Bucky: Why are you still here?
Y/N: Because I care about you, you asshole.
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Request: Yes or No
I don't know what Val has having Yelena do so we're going to pretend she joined some good ppl aight?
Also trying a different writing style
Yelenas' gaze swept over the crowd, the sound of the piano giving everything a much calmer vibe. Yelena never did undercover missions. She preferred to be watching from a distance, waiting for the target. This time was different. Her target wasn't some multibillionaire or evil genius. It was another assassin.
"You've got eyes on anyone, Belova?" Her teammate was outside, ready to intervene and help if needed.
"Not yet." Yelena answered quietly, trying not to draw attention to herself. It was easy to spot someone who didn't belong. Their body language was different. They watched and stayed in a spot where they could survey everything.
Yelena took a champagne glass offered by one of the workers, giving them a small nod. She took the smallest of sips, tugging at her dress. She wasn't used to wearing them. She preferred pants over dresses.
"You think they might've been tipped off?" Yelena frowned. She hoped not. She had gotten dolled up for nothing.
"We'll have to wait and see." She took another look around. She noticed someone on the second level. They went out of view as quickly as she had noticed them.
"Hold on." Yelena placed her cup down, walking towards the stairs. She stepped around people and dodged offers to dance. Yelena quickly made her way to the first floor, cursing her heels when she almost tripped.
"Stay in your spot." Yelena muttered, heading down the hall nearest to where she had spotted the person. The mansion was huge. The party had been hosted by a billionaire.
Yelena lifted her dress, taking her gun out of the holster. She tried to keep the back of her feet up in an attempt to keep the heels from clicking on the floor. The hallway was much darker than the main area.
"Fuck it." Yelena whispered, slowly and gently taking her heels off and leaving them against the wall. She walked more comfortably. She listened for any noise that indicated a person was around. Yelena perked up at the sound of something falling on the floor, picking up the pace and rounding the corner.
"Shit, Morris, do you have eyes on the exterior?" Yelena stared at the open window, huffing softly. She blinked when she heard fireworks begin to go off, lips parting as she watched the lights. She slowly stepped towards the window, humming softly. It had been a while since she had gotten a moment to watch fireworks.
Yelena looked down when she stepped on something cold, taking a step back and noticing a penny on the ground. She shut her eyes when she felt a cold muzzle press to the back of her head. Yelena exhaled deeply, stilling for a moment.
Yelena spun around on her heels, grabbing the persons wrist and pushing their hand to the side as a gunshot rang out, concealed by a firework.
"Well, aren't you clever? Using the fireworks as a shield." Yelena breathed out. She raised her own gun, though it was quickly knocked out of her hands. The person spun her around, the arm she was gripping wrapping around her neck.
The blonde quickly shifted, elbowing the person's side. It was hard enough to get them to loosen their grip. Yelena slipped out of their grasp, inhaling sharply as she faced them, strands of hair falling over her face.
"Let's dance, asshole." She muttered, turning and grabbed the vase that sat on the stand by the window. She threw it at the person, using it as a distract so she could pick up her gun.
Yelena shrieked as her hair was grabbed and pulled, accidentally firing the trigger. She was effortlessly tossed back against the wall like a ragdoll. Her gun was picked up and quickly tossed out the window.
Heavy pants left the Russian, gaze landing on the broken vase shards. She spotted a large piece with a sharp end and quickly reached for it, picking it up and using it to stab the person in the leg.
"Shit!" The person cursed, taking some steps back.
"Yeah, fucking hurts, right?" Yelena stood up, letting her hair fall out of its bun. She tied it up into a ponytail as quickly as she could while the assassin pulled shard out. Yelena turned and went back into the hallway, hearing things behind her. She picked up her heels, spinning back around. The assassin had used part of the curtain as a bandage.
Yelena instinctively raised one of the heels and they suddenly threw something at her, lowering the heel to see a throwing knife in the shoe. Yelena pulled it out, humming. "Thanks for this!"
The person stalked towards Yelena, lunging forward once close enough. Yelena dodged their punch, swiftly jumping onto their back and stabbing their shoulder. She was suddenly rammed against the wall, a cry leaving both of them. Yelena let them go, stumbling onto the ground.
"Fuck, you crazy bitch." The person breathed out, grunting when they pulled the knife out. Yelena chuckled, rubbing her slowly bruising shoulder.
"Oops my ass." They growled, moving so they were straddling her before they raised the knife. Yelena reached up, ripping the mask off and scratching their face, leaving deep enough marks to draw blood. The person turned their face, a soft hiss leaving them before they looked back at her.
Yelenas' breath caught in her throat, eyes widening and she stared up at the person she had been fighting, her enemy.
Her childhood friend.
"(Y/N)?" She asked softly. (Y/N) frowned, brows furrowing as he stared back down at her. His gaze flickered over her features, his own features hardened and furious.
"Yelena. Yelena Belova. I-I'm the girl from Ohio!" It seemed to click for (Y/N).
"Shit." He whispered, quickly standing up. Yelena grunted as she sat up.
"God, this was supposed to be easy." He whispered, reaching into his pocket. Yelenas brows furrowed as she watched him take out a lighter.
"What are you-"
"Don't follow me." He muttered, flicking it on and dropping it in the space between them. The rug quickly catching on fire. Yelena got up, backing up as she watched the fire spread.
When she looked up, he was gone.
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Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader
Angst || Foul Language || Depression || Heartbreak || Time Jump
Dancing With your Ghost by Sasha Alex Sloan and Chris Evans
“Sam. Is. . . Y/N still standing with Bruce?” Steve asked with a hard expression that became severe variations of what Sam could read as worried and almost angry.
Sam gulped as he studied Steve’s features waiting for him to drop his hand and look out on the water with another stoic expression. Sam licked his lips and nodded as he looked to where you were standing last. He let his shoulder fall and Steve cleared his throat as he stood up from the bench.
“I best be on my way. My ride should be pulling around to the house by the time I get to the front door.” He patted Sam on the shoulder with a chuckle as he gave Bucky a bright smile and waved him over.
“Help me around to the front. We have some catching up to do.” Bucky couldn’t help but laugh and Sam smirked at the interaction.
Sam took a deep breath and looked towards the house and could see you slamming the back door shut. He let his head fall and couldn’t help but chuckle at Bruce who yelped at the sound of the door.
You were shaking. Uncontrollably at this point. Your eyes not staying pointed at one thing for too long as your body just knew where to lead your unfocused vision.
“What. Why’d. He. He. I.” tears started streaming down your cheeks as you stopped in the hallway and began hyperventilating. You wanted to scream but the tears and the gasping was what felt right. You wanted to rub the tears away, but there were steadily flowing.
“What the actual fuck ju..ust hAPPENED!?” you finally let out and laughed at how ridiculous you must have looked.
You leaned against the wall and allowed yourself to slow your breathing so you could close your jaw. The pain you felt throughout your body from how you were reacting was so much. Your tears started again and cool trails started down your burning cheeks. Calming your muscles and heart just enough to wipe your jaw and sniffle. You closed your eyes lightly and allowed yourself to take a full breath. Sniffling you turned back towards the backdoor and opened your eyes. Bruce and Sam had just made their way into the house to look for you when you were leaning into the hallway wall. They stood silent and looked away to one another as you processed what just happened.
You met Sam’s eyes first then forced yourself to meet Bruce’s eyes and as you looked back to Sam you all could hear Bucky laughing followed by a much older yet distinctive chuckle from Steve. You clenched your jaw and fists as more tears fell.
You exhaled a heavy breath as you focused your attention back on the picture frame in your hands. You and Steve were at the top of Lady Liberty and Steve had given your phone to someone so they could take a picture of him holding you close and giving you a passionate kiss. The photo had been taken a few months before the blip and sometime after Bucky was settled in Wakanda.
“Hey! Y/N! Are you going to need all of these papers in the office that’s filed under MEMES” you shook your head and giggled at Peter who came rushing in with the folder.
“No you keep them kid. Go tape some around the city. It’ll be a fun thing that Spider-Man can do. Selfie with Spidey. Like make it a whole scavenger hunt on social media! Oh that’d be dope as hell” you laughed as you met Peter’s eyes and he raised a brow in an expression that could only be read as ‘yeah sure.’
“Take them Peter. I don’t care what you do with the shit in that room. Most of it isn’t mine anyways.” you gulped as you admitted that Peter was going through Steve’s office.
Peter stood taller and looked down the hall then back at you.
“You’re having me go through Steve’s office! That’s why you paid me $40! Oh! not cool! I had no idea! Now I have to restart the packing!” before Peter could run off like you knew he would.
“PETER! Donate and trash. Unless it is an electronic. Then it needs to be kept. As far as the sentimental things. . . I’ve already gone through that room.”
“Are you sure because it didn’t look like you checked behind the hidden door.”
“HIDDEN DOOR!?” you screamed and started towards Peter.
He yelped and followed you into the office where he had the bookcase door open and you were staring into the other side of his office that you’d never seen before.
“Peter. how’d you know about this?”
“Spidey Senses. Also he kind of told me about it a few weeks ago. . . he wanted some things. . .and told me you would pay me because you’d feel guilty asking his friends for help. . .” Peter looked down at the ground with guilt written all over his face and you rubbed your hands into your mouth.
“Well okay then. Guess I have some deep cleaning to do in here now. Also have to mention it in the listing. Fuck. Ugh. Damn you Steve. Damn you and your fucking secrets.” you grumbled as you walked in and instantly regretted it.
Now this space was Steve’s office. You pursed your lips as it all came crashing into you like a waterfall. Peter watched with sadness in his eyes as you slowly approached the desk to admire the framed photo.
“I can. . . come back. . . “ Peter said meakly and you shook your head.
“No. I. . . I can’t be left alone with all this. So. Let’s make it quick you have training with Happy in an hour.” you smiled and laid the photo face up on the desk as Peter came in.
He glanced at the photo and saw that it was the one of you and Steve the week he came out of the ice. He was confused my technology and was watching you in amazement as you posed for the photo assuming he was doing the same.
It was a photo that Steve loved and despite your objections he kept it and had it printed for his office. Peter let out a breath because he knew that was what Steve had asked him to retrieve. But the way you held it and set it down. he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to go through with taking it from you.
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Hi there! Could I possibly get some YB headcanons for a small darling who's scared out of her mind of everything and everyone and gets really anxious and cries a lot? Basically she's very skittish and jumpy and since she's obviously terrified of peter, how would he try and get her to trust him? sfw and nsfw hcs :) Thank u!
How he would react to a small scared s/o
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
【 ❝ ⚘ ✧ ❞ 】
ᴳᴱᴺᴿᴱ: Fluff, slight angst
ᶜᴴᴬᴿᴬᶜᵀᴱᴿˢ: Your boyfriend
ᵂᴬᴿᴺᴵᴺᴳˢ: Mentions of stalking, yandere tendencies, delusions, and scared reader.
ᵂᴼᴿᴰ ᶜᴼᵁᴺᵀ: 369 words
【 ❝ ⚘ ✧ ❞ 】
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
• Yb is a bit delusional, but he isn't completely unaware of his actions.
• He knows his darling is incredibly afraid of him, with the way you shook in his sight and he tries to step forward to help you again but freezes when he spotted the tears that welled up in your eyes.
• You'd always scramble to your feet, and escape from his sight, which incredibly worrying to him. He just wants his small cute little darling to love him :(
• He loves the feeling of his rough calloused hands against your soft, supple skin, you can expect him randomly to hug you in an attempt to make you trust him more.
• his arms sneak around his smaller frame while his hands grasp the fabric between your shoulder blades as you tremble. It’s comforting, he thinks, but he can't exactly ignore the immense tremors from your body.
• As he tries to give you a comforting hug, your eyes filled with something he recognized from the many times he had seen it from you, the shakiness of your pupils as they dilated slightly, and the way your chest tightened and restricted you from showing too much motion as you breathed, tears welling up in your fragile eyes.
• Hugs was definitely a no-go, so he attempted another way. Buying your favorite things and foods.
• As he would stalk you, he'd pay close attention to what kind of things you were interested in, shows you watch, foods you frequently ate and the expressions you showed when doing these things.
• 'Out of the blue', he'd frequently gift you the food you currently loved the most at the moment, and gift you merch of your favorite shows/games/fandoms.
• Your soft (e/c) eyes wavering slightly as you stared off into the distance, entire stories would dance through your eyes in the silence as you stared up at him.
• Thee colors of your emotions would swirl across your eyes and your stares could tell your entire life story, and if you trusted anyone, they could see your very soul reflected in that beautiful (e/c) hue. That's what he craved the most.
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˜”*°•.˜”*°• How they respond to a “Hi Daddy/Mommy~” text •°*”˜.•°*”˜
˜”*°•.˜”*°• Eren •°*”˜.•°*”˜
˜”*°•.˜”*°• Armin •°*”˜.•°*”˜
˜”*°•.˜”*°• Mikasa •°*”˜.•°*”˜
“…that was hot-“
˜”*°•.˜”*°• Jean •°*”˜.•°*”˜
“Hey baby girl/boy/baby”
˜”*°•.˜”*°• Sasha •°*”˜.•°*”˜
“I just choked on my bread wtf-“
˜”*°•.˜”*°• Connie •°*”˜.•°*”˜
˜”*°•.˜”*°• Hange •°*”˜.•°*”˜
“Oh, getting into something new I see, are you sure you want to do this?”
˜”*°•.˜”*°• Levi •°*”˜.•°*”˜
“Why? What’s wrong daddy?”
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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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I made a thing...
(also plz don't repost, but rebloggings a-okay!)
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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
–– Best Interest
+ eren / fem!reader.
tags: college au, erens in love I promise but I just don’t dabble into that aspect a whole lot, lowkey just pwp I’M SORRY. innocent reader (to some extent), virginity loss, corruption kink, creampie, mating press, size kink hehe, breeding kink, degradation, oral sex (f receiving), spitting, pussy job + slapping, really fat fuckin’ balls😔
word count: 5.4k
summary: the room then falls into silence, once more. you can’t believe you’d been missing out on this for so long –– and you know you could get used to it. you think you already have. you think you’re in love.
(please read) edited notes: this used to be a toxic eren fic. so if some of it doesn’t make sense, that’s why. I wrote this back when toxic eren was kinda popular, even though I didn’t like the idea of toxic eren. I did it out of curiosity and to try a new personality for him, even though it’s definitely not my fav
despite that, this is my fic with the most notes. disappointment of that aside, I removed the property of toxic eren from this fic lol. I hope you’ll still like it
“Wanna show me?” He says, eyeing you through heavy eyelashes, and dark bangs.
It’s a jerk of your neck. It’s a jerk of your neck that leaves you pressing a palm to your stomach. Something swirls in there, something familiar.
It lays heavy –– heavier now. It mixes with anxiety, but you start to shuffle towards your bed before it grows any further. The plush of your mattress is compelling, the rough fingers of Eren, even more.
Heat rises between your legs. Uncomfortably, you shift on your bed. Clearing your throat, you angle your hips in such a way that the comforter digs up to rub against your slit. You’re not as subtle as you think.
Eren calls your name, pretending not to notice the shallow rising of your hips, “Show me. Teach me. Teach me what you did.”
You gulp. Sweat trails down your spine. You stutter out an answer, legs raising to dig heels into the mattress below.
The skirt rifts itself down your thighs, bunching at your hips when you lean back on your hands.
“You’re so pretty.” Eren’s voice is the breakage between want, and need –– you can have this right here, right now, you know. The decision is up to you.
His shoulders rise and fall with a sigh, resting his weight on the desk behind him.
It’s a keen move of sorts, in the way he crosses flexed biceps across his chest. He cocks his head to the side –– it’s as if he’s studying you, eyeing the patch of gloss that paints your intimates.
The air is thick once your hand begins to jerk in place –– it’s a perverse shift of an arm, how you preliminarily single a finger out to trail the slit of your clothed cunt.
It’s clear that this isn’t how you move solo. This isn’t how you touch yourself when you’re alone in the early hours of the morning.
The way you slide your panties down your thighs is the tick of a clock. It twists lower, rubbing against skin when it trails down legs. Once at your ankles, you kick it off, sitting forgotten on the floor.
So pretty –– it’s so pretty. You’re so pretty.
Your puffy cunt leaks juice, sloppy when it rubs off to the inner part of your thighs. Your thighs. Eren wants them wrapped around his head, but he knows patience. He stays standing, trying his best to ignore the tightened strain of his fat cock against jeans.
Fingers of yours dance on and around your slit, brushing over your clit to then tease at your hole. You tumble and stumble over your own fingers, trying best to bring yourself pleasure under the watchful green eyes that set heat rooting through veins.
Eren furrows his brows. You act as if your pussy had burned you –– like it’s hot to the touch, like it’s some intangible brume of sorts. Like it’s some veiled trial, and you’ve been put to the test, no prior knowledge having been brought onto you beforehand.
“What are you doing?”
The comfort in his voice confuses you, more than Eren. He makes no move to backtrack, to correct his voice to one with gruff ends.
You glance up, looking dumbly at the way he shifts on feet.
He walks closer, and you resist the urge to snap your legs closed. The bed dips once Eren takes place next to you, eyeing your glistening folds, and your twitching hand next to it.
He inhales, he’s so fucking hard, exhales.
“Do you know how to touch yourself?”
You trip over words, back straight once you bite back, “Of course I do!”
He eyes the skin of your thighs, and when you notice, you nudge them in his direction.
Eren places a large hand on your thigh –– it’s too high for the action to be deemed normal, but too low to ease the burning in your stomach. Higher, you need it higher, shivering under rough hands when he squeezes at the supple skin.
He kisses his teeth, kneading it within clenched fingers, “Then why’re you acting like this is your first time?”
It’s silent for an empty five seconds –– only because you’re waiting for Eren to shift his hand higher. He doesn’t.
“I-It’s not, it’s just... the guys I’ve been with before... they... weren’t good.”
“Ah, I see.” He smiles, once again squeezing at your thigh for comfort.
“I... I wanna do this, though.” You curl your back, chest hitting the side of Eren’s arm as you do so.
“I... when I do it myself,” you curl into yourself, shoulders hunched, pussy still exposed, “I don’t... know if I... finish...” you trail off, voice going gentle as you do so.
Eren pauses, “You... don’t know?”
“Uh, other girls always say it feels so good, but not for me, I... I used to think something was wrong with me. It just never felt as good as when other girls explained it, I- I don’t know. I don’t know if I... orgasm. I can’t tell.”
Eren blinks, he then squeezes at your leg.
“Oh... you poor baby- I’ll do it, okay? ‘ll make you feel so good, alright? I promise.” You nod along with his words, full promises swirling around your head when he finally dips his hand lower.
Fingers stuck together, Eren then brushes the entirety of your cunt with large fingers. You shiver, and your quivering state can only spur Eren on. He makes a move to cup your pussy, wetness rubbing off on his rough hand as he begins to trail it back and forth, palm teasing the rise of your clit, fingers sliding between sticky folds as he does so.
You bite back moans, hide them behind teeth –– eyes of yours then flutter shut, a ringing behind ears when he begins to tease your sloppy hole.
“Good?” He rasps, grounding you once more.
“I- yeah.” You pant, hips just slightly bucking up into the palm of his hand, jolt of electricity jerking through you when he paints circles on your clit, “It’s- it’s better when you do it.”
Eren can’t hide his smile –– hard cock, crooked smile, and all, he chuckles, still eyeing the sweet juice that trickles down to the comforters of your bed, “I know.”
Breaths are laboured, lips parted, eyes bleary. It’s so easy –– and you’re so cute. A bigger stain seeps it, one that overrides the disgust that stirs in your stomach. Pleasure takes over your heat and core, thick fingers of Eren spreading apart lips and rubbing themselves over your clit.
There’s a jolt, and whines come tumbling out quicker than you can stop them.
His hand is hot, cupping your cunt, dripping wet onto his palm that’s flat against it. He trails it in and between folds, dancing around your clit to pause at your moans.
“Do you want my fingers?”
Arching your back, you clutch at your top to frustratedly tug and pull at it.
“Wh- no, I- I want you to stretch me out, Eren. Please.”
He stills at that, a block in his throat that has his eyes slightly widening. He’ll have you at your tightest. You’ll let him have you at your tightest, tiny hole stretched for nobody but him. Open to accept the full stretch of his cock –– Eren will make sure of it –– but tight enough to leave gritted teeth, a clamp of walls on his dick making it harder to fuck into you.
“Okay.” How could he ever deny you? “I wanna taste you. Let me taste you first?”
He doesn’t miss the clench of your pussy at that. The quiver of your lips –– albeit a slight one. Face scrunched, you nod meekly, shoulders rounded like you’re embarrassed.
You can’t help the twinge of bashfulness that flows to your cheeks, for Eren to hold a conversation so habitually, as if his fingers aren’t pressed hotly against your cunt, thick fingers rubbing and pinching at your clit.
You’re unable to see the smirk that lines his lips, eyes still fixed where his palm meets your pussy. You flinch when he slaps at it, slightly chasing after the sudden loss of contact once he pulls back. You have half the mind to whine out, to paw at Eren’s sleeve and to pull him to stuff his fingers knuckle deep into the warmth of you –– but when he gently rests an arm on your shoulder, to push you back into the plush of your comforter, it’s a different excitement that stirs in the pit of your stomach.
Palms gliding the skin of your thighs, he hooks your knees over his shoulders, chest sinking into the plush of your mattress to get comfortable. Eren eyes the pulsing of your tiny opening, a greedy one that leaks juices with every clench around air it flaunts.
It presents itself a challenge, but Eren knows he’ll mould the meat of his cock to fit perfectly within that pliant cunt of yours. It taunts him on, folds glossy and wet when you’re left writhing above his eyes, and he’s barely even touching you. Hands graze the skin of your legs, to land on the skin of your stomach. Exhaling, his breath hits the warmth of your cunt, sensitivity akin to cold water and mint.
He grits his teeth, trying hardest to replicate and imagine the feeling of walls instead clamping down on his cock. A thick dick throbs in his jeans.
He trails his thumb between your folds, gliding further to graze your clit. You arch your back, heat caught and swirling around the space of your head. More more more more.
Eren eyes the flutter of your folds around him, the pulsing of them around a dexterous thumb, and you squirm when he just slightly pushes onto your bud.
Somewhere in the fog and stutter of words, you find what you need, “I want... I- hngh, your mouth, Eren. Please.”
Simply, he hums. Something tickles at your wrists, and when you look down, you see fingers just brazenly grazing the flesh of your own. Faint confusion dabbles into your brain, just a fleeting moment where you’re grounded, when Eren laces his fingers with yours. Eyebrows of yours move to furrow, but they don’t get the chance to meet, not when a pair of lips gently place themselves to catch the sensitivity of your clit.
With surprise, you jerk back, gasp flying through your lips before you get the chance to sink teeth into the swollen flesh. A tongue chases after the ghost lips left, tongue flat and hot against your cunt, running up slowly –– so, very slowly –– to dance around the edges of your bud.
Back rising along with it, curling into the pleasure, you serve yourself on a platter, buck your hips to stuff Eren’s mouth further onto your cunt. He makes out with your pussy, lips sloppy against his own, mess of slick rubbing off his nose and down his chin. He hums, which sends a reverie of vibrations stinging straight to your guts.
Cracked mewls claw at your throat, stinging the space behind gritted teeth and begging to be let out. Only a few fly through parted lips, moans of pleasure ones that shoot straight to Eren’s cock, as he rocks his hips avidly into the mattress below.
It’s a feeling nobody could have ever braced you for. Nothing desperate like the embarrassing nights you’ve spent before. With a wet tissue paper nudging at your clit, frustrated, yet curious. Spit covered fingers, or a damp pillow cushion. Old thoughts rust over, mind instead foggy with the real feeling of a hot tongue mixing in with your folds.
Eren rides the sloppy mound of your pussy with his nose, tongue lapping over your cunt, leaving lingering smooches to your clit.
It’s a messy exchange of spit and your own juices –– you know, you feel it trailing down the rift of your ass to pool at the sheets, and rubbing off on flailing thighs. Said thighs stay perched on either one of Eren’s shoulders, twitching and vibrating with each second he sucks at your bud, with each simple brush of nimble fingers tangled with yours.
Eren pulls back –– albeit slightly –– but to you, it feels as if he’d retreated back something of a sierra’s width.
You snivel out a broken whine, eyes wider as you use your hands for leverage to raise yourself up, elbows digging into the pillow beneath you.
You make a move to reach out one arm, to sink your fingers into his hair and pull his face back to be stuffed in your cunt. It’s a move that acts on its own, no decision made on your part. Because you know, and have decided, that you need it.
The meeting of your nails to the curls of his hair is only fleeting, as Eren is now too far back for you to do so. You sniffle, a meagre attempt to garner just an inkling of sympathy from him to return to your cunt. To once again have him lick a fat stripe up the slit of your pussy.
Your aims had not been in vain. The letters of the name die from your lips once Eren’s tongue comes to round the inside of his cheek, brows furrowed, it’s a strange sound that rises from him, before you feel a foreign sensation landing on your pussy.
It takes you a second to register it –– it’s hot against your clit, and thick, and slowly trails down the lips of your wet cunt. It’s a glob of saliva, one that’d hit your bud at the perfect angle, having sent a jolt up the middle of your spine, resulting in throbs and sizzling both on and around your thighs.
The thick substance runs down at its own pace, mixing in with your arousal, and the previous spit of Eren’s. He eyes it, taking time out of the moment to revel in the very sight of your naked pussy. He groans –– can’t help himself –– and is soon stuffing his face between your legs once more.
“Urgh- haaaaaaaaa––!” You choke on spit, head thrown back into the material of your pillow, back raising itself from your bed.
Fingers of yours tangle themselves in Eren’s hair, hips bucking up as you fuck yourself on his tongue.
He lets you –– you don’t notice it, but he lets you. His hands stay limp on your stomach once more, eyeing the swell of your chest from your clothing.
You buck your hips up, mess of the both of you rubbing off and glistening onto Eren’s chin. You let a high whine break free, eyes squeezed shut when you clench strands of brown hair between nimble fingers.
“Eren, Eren, I-” vowels move to strained air on your tongue, lips parted, brows furrowed as you do so, “Eren, I think I’m gonna––!”
Quickly, does he pull away. Before you get to clench your thighs shut, before you’re able to reach your high.
Your eyes shoot open, watching Eren with both confusion and frustration as he stands himself up. Once again do you make your move to sit up, to claw at the material of his top, to pull him back down between your legs.
Thoughts –– that were muddled to begin with –– halt, when your eyes blink down to the protruding shift of Eren’s bottoms. You inhale, almost choke on your spit, before exhaling into the hot air of your room.
His voice, gravely when he speaks, is loud to your ears, “I want you to cum on my dick.”
Words simply go in one ear and out the other. You only make out what your pussy wants to make out –– cum, dick.
You’re then nodding with zeal, cunt clamping down around empty air, a feat that Eren does not leave unnoticed. He can’t even smirk at the action, can’t have a shadow of smugness blow into his ego, at the way you dart your tongue out to wet your lips, or the look of need that’s left seeping into your irises.
How momentous this is –– no, really, Eren should be feeling special –– for the poster girl of non-existent fly-aways and morning yoga, the paragon of good deeds lays in front of him, in this moment. That hole of yours begs for cock, it begs to be stretched open. It eggs him on, with the way your legs twitch impatiently, in the way your cunt pulses into itself, the way it pushes out even more slick to trail your ass, with each passing second.
Eren inhales, and exhales. It’s steady –– slightly sets you on edge, but it’s steady.
You eye the movements of his fingers as he dips them under the hem of his bottoms, eyes of his own trained on you as he does so. He shoves them down swiftly, along with his boxers. His cock springs up, red, angry, and big. Your lips curl into each other when you study it, breathing shallow as you do so.
You voice his name through spread apart moans, lips pouty as Eren climbs over you.
He speaks through the now empty space –– save from your heavy breathing –– as the video on your desk had long time ended.
From the legs that’ve stayed flat against the bed, Eren slides his palms under them once more, to raise them up to land on his shoulders again. He relaxes on his knees, towering high above you as he eyes his dick that stands erect.
You cry out a whine, pawing at the arms of him as he rests his hands on either side of your hips. You’re blubbering foreign words –– words you’ve only heard in the videos you watch late into the night, words you never knew you could say. Much less within the presence of Eren.
“Fuck me, Eren. Please.”
Eren’s eyes never leave yours. Not when he digs his fingers into your supple skin, not when he begins to ride the length of his dick between sloppy folds.
His fat cock head rubs at your clit, eliciting a gasp from the depths of your throat. Your nails dig into the skin of his arms, all while he continues to slide his dick between your puffy cunt.
With every glide of his cock to your clit, you’re unable to bite back the moan that stings the tip of your tongue. Huffing out a whine, mind slush when you sough out a squeaking moan for him to please just fuck you.
Alas, with the thick dick of his coated with your slick, he just fleetingly nudges your tiny entrance with his head.
It’s quick –– as you can barely feel it. He swiftly pulls back, just the slightest shift of movements, before he does it again. Your pussy catches the slit of his, retracting just slightly, as if sensing it’s unable to swallow something so thick and foreign.
Eren gathers his bearings, inhaling deeply as one hand stays digging into the soft skin of your thigh, other running up and down the length of his dick.
The fat head of his cock slides against your entrance, teasing at it, preparing it, before finally pushing in.
Your hole catches the weight of his thick head, sucking it in with a pained stretch. He’s no more than one inch in, and he’s already knocked the wind out of you.
He groans into the space in front of him –– a guttural escape of air, one that’d stemmed from the depths of his throat.
Sinking teeth into your bottom lip, you bite back curses. Eren continues to slide in, the heat of your tight cunt clamping onto the skin of his dick, which fills you up perfectly. He rubs on every ridge there is in you, stuffed hotly against your walls that simply suck him deeper.
It runs, milling around laps in his head –– greedy, greedy girl.
Eren first fucks you with the tip of his cock, tentative in the way he sinks in deeper, all to pull out again. You choke out a whine, tears gathering on your waterline, swollen lips blubbering out words wholly unintelligible to Eren. He pays that no mind, only notes the curve of your back, the shaking of your legs on either side of your face –– your face, that pretty pretty face. You already look so fucked out, like your brain is simple fog, nothing clouding your mind besides the feel of Eren’s cock inside of you.
Large hands –– surely to leave bruises on the curves of your hips –– pin you to the bed, all as he smooths his dick into your walls, and back out, until only the tip is present.
Said tip soon then retracts completely, leaving you to sniffle at the loss of pleasure once more. You cry when Eren uses his cock to land a slap at your clit. You hear a groan, followed by a call of your name through heavy desperation.
He slaps at it again with his dick, slick sticking to your puffy cunt as he does so, slit throbbing and clit swollen from his cock.
When Eren sinks back into the heat of you, you cry out loud. Legs of yours flail by your sides, Eren leaning down for his breath the brush at your lips. You grapple at his muscular back, fingers digging moons into the thew to pull him down into a heated meeting of lips.
It’s sudden –– with the way Eren suddenly slams the entirety of him into you. It rumbles jittery in your stomach, a sudden feeling that crawls up your neck to settle on your ears and suck the air from your chest.
You choke, his lips on yours, with the full length and thickness of his meaty cock kissing your stomach. Your brain reels back, frozen and babbling all sorts of nonsense once Eren’s kept hair kisses your own.
You share spit within the perfervid air between you, heavy breathing a mix with saliva. He swallows your squeals of pleasure, landing tangy on his tongue as he fucks you rough –– fat balls beating and slapping the hole of your ass with every snap of his hips he drives up and into your cunt.
Folded in half, you’re partially worried he’s about to snap you in two. His shoulders do the job of holding your legs in their position, squirming in place with every bounce of your tits, with the sinking of Eren’s teeth into your tongue, with every ram of his cock that batters your insides.
Limp, welcoming, pliant for his girth, you are. Taking the full of his cock like the good girl you are. Useful for equations on paper, and last-minute exams, sure, but this? This is what you were truly made for.
You teeter the edge of a spiral, mind mush when Eren’s tongue trails the column of your throat. You fist at his top, headboard slamming into the wall behind you, bedsprings creaking as he drills you further into the mattress.
Your hole leaks wetness –– the hole that’s stretched wide, around Eren’s dick –– it trails down your ass to once again pool over your duvet, and to tickle the skin of Eren’s balls.
Face pinched, he eyes the meeting of you to him –– the sight leading him to let out a groan, face hidden within the warmth of your neck.
A hand sinks down, thumb then just brushing the sensitive clit that peeks from your parted folds. You babble out yet another cry, clothed chest meeting Eren’s in the middle when you ruffle the pillow, mouth open wide to let mewls run free.
Eren acts before he’s aware. He folds you over even more, knees of yours now digging into the mattress that creaks with every thrust he meets you with, ramming your delicate body into the mess of sheets –– that were perfect no more than an hour ago –– below you.
“Ohhhhh my go––!”
You give way mid-sentence, cave of your lungs too deep to produce anything more than a cracked whine with any form of coordination.
Eyes of your are squeezed shut as he plows into with an unforgiving pace. Eren makes a mess of your insides. Of the bed, and of the skin of your thighs all in one.
You writhe from beneath him, tightness of your sloppy cunt rippling around the thickness of his cock. The only thing that keeps you in place is the pinch of his hands to your waist, and the burly stature that eyes you from above.
In the midst of a cloudy mind, you think back to conversations you’d had with yourself in the past –– to keep yourself out of relationships for college, to avoid all possible distractions, that guys will serve you nothing but trouble.
Perhaps you’d been right –– as you’re currently trapped under the flexed biceps of Eren. But you’re too far gone, no longer can you dote on college speeches, preparing for education solely.
Semblance washed away, you’re nothing like the girl Eren once knew. You’re not the girl you once knew. All traces of dignity has been plucked away from ribs, you realize. All with the drag of Eren’s fat cock filling up your tiny hole.
To keep dignity –– no such thing. It’s a myth, because who would want to miss out on this? Lungs vacant, eyes tired, there’s a tight coil that curls itself into the pits of your stomach. It churns, brows furrowed when you stumble out mumbled warnings that trip over your swollen lips.
Each time Eren pulls back, it feels as if your guts are pulled along with him. It’s a feeling you can’t put into words, mind a muddle and only stuck on what you now desire the most –– dick dick dick dick dick dick dick –– it screams at you, with every bite of Eren’s teeth into the space of your neck, between every groan that’s loud from Eren’s throat.
Eren’s balls grow heavy. They constrict when against your ass, body covered with a layer of sweat when he watches your cunt suck him deeper.
He knows what needs to be done –– he needs to breed you. He’s just gotta.
He’s got to fuck you full. Eren has to fuck his cum into you, messy and sticky when clinging to the both of your thighs and his heavy balls. He’ll watch it trail out of that tiny slit of yours, all to lick it back up again.
So, he works up to it. Asks you through laboured breaths if you’re close, and his only response is a stiff jerk of your neck, bleary eyes and a chin tilted north. He hooks his finger under it, thumb riding the skin of your lip as he does so.
He tells you –– no, whispers into your ear to let go –– that you’re okay, that you’ll get what you’re needy little cunt has been craving for. He’ll put it to rest, he promises, he’ll pump you full, empty the ache in his fat balls into the warmth of your tight fuckin’ pussy.
Dreamily, you nod. A woozy smile stretching across that pretty little face of yours. You clamp down tighter, as if that was even possible.
Eren reciprocates –– fang tooth digging into the buds of his tongue, a wicked smile plastered lazily on his face.
He nods along with the song of your drawn out moans, feign concern laced between the crease of his brows.
“Haaaa- I got you, fuck- I love you.”
His words set the tension in your stomach to a new level, mockery that hides under his eyes making you want to curl into yourself.
“God, you make me sick. So damn filthy.” He groans your name through gritted teeth, circles at your clit growing rougher, thrusts going sloppier as he does so.
“‘m gonna come, Eren.”
Through thick lashes, he glances up to your face. Jaw set tight and eyes dark, his nostrils flare as he huffs through them.
You manage a nod through your cloudy thoughts, a slow roll of your neck that shows off the darkened patches of skin that line the area of your throat.
“Yeah,” Eren stuffs himself inside your cunt, balls deep, thrusts hurried, desperate for release, “yeah, yeah yeah yeah yeah.” He huffs between words as he pounds into you, now with nothing but a careless rhythm.
It builds up tighter in your stomach, tension over a coil as to how Eren fits so perfectly in your pliant little cunt. You must be quite the sight –– bleary eyes, swollen lips, and all.
“Yes,” you reply, back arching at the fastened traces of Eren’s thumb to your clit, “yes yes yeah yeah- haaaaaaaaaa- oh––!”
Eren fucks you through your heightened senses, and cracked moans. They bounce off the four walls of your room, eyes squeezed shut as you cry out whines, pawing at his top from over you, all as his heavy balls continue to slap against the meat of your ass.
It rolls out from the very pits of your stomach, and all the air is sucked out of your lungs. It’s only then do you realize the train of tears that trails the rise of your cheeks.
Eren continues to fuck you through it, no matter how raw and sensitive you feel. The skin of his cock is a new spark with every movement he makes ––his balls tighten, soon emptying themselves into your cunt.
Eren paints your insides white, and taints your soul with sin.
You’re there, at his disposal –– greedy pussy of yours swallowing at every last drop, chasing after his cum, clamping down on the veins that paint the expanse of his meaty dick.
You’re the silk around wood –– sloppy when your pleasure mixes with each other, to spill and rub off onto the space around you.
It’s all heavy breathing and the slight ruffle of sheets.
After empty moments of silence between the two of you, Eren pulls out. Out comes spilling the both of you, as Eren studies the way it trails down the meat of your ass to settle on the cover beneath you.
It’s thick, sticky. Eren wants it all in his mouth.
Maybe another time, he tells himself.
“When you said you touched yourself... to me,” Eren starts, prompting you to glance up at him, through heavy eyelids, “did you mean it?”
Your answer surprises Eren. The swiftness of it, too.
Your answer is distant, partially faded away. Perhaps you’re still drunk off his cock. Perhaps Eren had fucked you stupid.
“Did you ever... touch yourself... to me?” Then comes a question of your own, knuckles curled around your arms, thighs now clenched together, toes dug into your mattress. Your voice, soft when you speak, rifts through the thick air.
The room then falls into silence, once more. You can’t believe you’d been missing out on this for so long –– and you know you could get used to it. You think you already have. You think you’re in love.
Sighing, you turn over to face Eren, who lays with an arm stretched under his head.
“We should... um,” your voice is hoarse, bottom half of you still exposed to the air conditioning when you rub your legs together, “get back to the lesson. Y’know?”
Eren hums inattentively, shuffling to his knees as he takes place directly in front of you.
“I just think- I think... we should probably take care of this, first... don’t you think?”
At that, you clench. And out comes pouring more of your pleasure, the one that Eren had stuffed deep inside of you no more than ten minutes ago.
He uses his knees to nudge your legs open, eyeing the trickle of come that leaks from your gaping hole.
He groans, teeth sinking into the flesh of his fist, before lowering himself to his chest. Steady breathing fans your puffy cunt, soft mewls dancing from the parting of your lips.
The two of you prepare yourselves for another round of pleasure, lessons forgotten and now abandoned on your desk from across the room.
Eren first leaves a kiss to it, relishes in the sweet taste of you that lingers on his lips.
Really, honestly, truthfully –– Eren supposes he could get used to this.
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Summary: Bucky gets a call from his good friend, reader, during a therapy session. I’m sorry for such a shit summary, but you know, it’s cute. (part two)
Warning(s): Fluff, underlying feelings but no we cover that with ‘we’re friends lololol’, therapy is important lads, tfatws!bucky, domestic vibes
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Characters: Bucky Barnes, Dr. Christina Raynor, Sam Wilson (mentioned)
Word count: 1.2k
"So, how are things?"
Bucky looked up from his fidgeting hands, a finger trailing over his gloved palm. Christina sat in her seat, waiting as her pen tapped against the notebook patiently.
"Things are fine. No nightmares, no freak-outs, no Hydra," Bucky replied reluctantly.
She nodded. "And your, uh, personal relationships? That is an important part about returning to civilisation, James," She mentioned. "What about Sam Wilson? Returned his calls?"
Bucky sighed, hesitating to answer considering it was clear she seemed to already know the answer. "My personal relationships are fine. And I'm not interested in Sam's calls. They're the same questions every time,"
"Well, he worries about you," She pointed out. "Good reason, I guess. He did become a global fugitive for you, alongside Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff,"
"Thanks for the reminder, doc, but two out of three of them are gone," He said coldly.
Christina raised her brows, surprised by his bluntness as she took down a few notes.
"Oh, come on, you know I hate that thing," Bucky protested, rolling his eyes.
She ignored him and continued to write. He clenched his jaw, shaking his head. Suddenly, his phone started to ring in his pocket.
"I thought I told you to turn that thing off before you came in, James," She reminded, motioning her pen to the vibrating device in his jacket.
"And I told you, I don't know how," Bucky grumbled, taking out his phone, expecting to see Sam's contact.
"Who is it? Is it Sam?" She wondered.
Bucky paused for a moment. "No, it's uh... it's a friend,"
"You have other friends?" She said sarcastically. "Alright. Answer it, come on, put him on speaker,"
"Seriously? I'll just send her a text-" Bucky began.
"-Her?" She interrupted with a curious smile. "I don't know a 'her'. Who is this 'her'?"
Bucky glared at the woman who either gave two shits about him or was more invested in his life than a midwife watching reality shows. "A friend."
The phone was still ringing, your contact bright on his screen, an image of you appearing beside your name as his thumb hovered over the green button.
"Speakerphone now, Barnes," She directed.
"Whatever you say, doc," He muttered and did as she said, answering it and pressing the speaker button.
Right away, a crackly and rustling noise was coming from the other end as Bucky set his phone on the coffee table in front of him, volume loud as the two of them listened.
"...Hello?" Bucky said, confused by the sound.
A few seconds of the strange noise continued. "Hey, Buck," You responded.
His lips tugged a little at the sound of your voice, threatening a smile. He missed Christina's prying eyes, flickering from the phone to Bucky. "Hi,"
"What are you doing?" You questioned.
Bucky licked his lips, hesitating. "Uh, nothing. You?"
"Nothing. I just got off the subway and I'm heading home, so..." You replied, sighing.
He heard the sound of trains and people chattering nearby. "Why'd you call, doll?"
"I uh, I wanted to..." You trailed off, wavering with nerves.
"I'm glad you called," Bucky stated, leaning forward on the couch to get closer to the receiver.
Christina subtly wrote down a few entries at the interaction.
"Yeah?" You spoke up over the crowds.
"Yeah," He assured, hearing the smile on your face.
"And why's that?"
Bucky clicked his tongue and sighed, glancing up to the therapist sitting across from him. "Because maybe you can explain what this crazy woman is talking about and tell her to just let me go home,"
Christina rolled her eyes at that, unamused.
"Ah, the therapist," You recalled, chuckling a little.
"Mhm," He hummed. "This is your fault and you will pay. You're the only reason I still go this crap," He stated.
"I promise - commit to it one more time," You encouraged. "And if it is still awful for you, I'll make it up to you,"
"Yep," You chirped.
Bucky nodded, smirking at that. "Alright. Okay, I'm gonna hold you to that, Y/N,"
"I wouldn't expect anything else, Sergeant Barnes," You said, your tone joking. "How are you feeling?"
"Other than pissed off that you're walking home alone, I'm okay," He answered.
"I can take care of myself just fine. You know me, I kick ass and take names," You claimed. "Well, alright, if you consider pepper spray kicking ass and taking names,"
Bucky chuckled. "I thought you told me you were gonna start taking something stronger than an aerosol container, doll,"
"But it's so cute, Buck, it's got kittens on it. Kittens. What am I supposed to do? And it glows in the dark. Practical and cute," You argued. "You could teach me how to do that cool knife-flip thing if you really wanted,"
"Fair enough," He conceded. "How about you? You feeling alright today?"
"Yeah. Just... thinking about you," You admitted.
"What a coincidence. I was just thinking about you too... so you can save me from this hell," He said.
You laughed a little at that, making him feel familiar butterflies at the sound. "Come on, it can't be that bad,"
Bucky glanced to Christina who was observing with a small grin, quite entertained by the sight, despite being insulted. "It's bad,"
"Come by tonight, we'll order some take-out like usual and watch Golden Girls," You suggested.
"Sound like a plan,"
"Great. Awesome. Uh, could you also do me a favour? Just while you're in the neighbourhood," You asked.
"Anything," He answered without hesitation.
"Just pick up a carton of milk, if that's okay. Sorry, usually I'd do my own shopping but I'm-"
"-Don't worry about it. Let me know if you need anything else,"
"You're the greatest neighbour a girl could ask for, you know," You remarked.
Bucky smiled. "I could say the same for you, doll,"
There was more rustling on the other end, a moment of quiet passed, Christina's pen against the paper filling the silence. "Um, I'll-I'll let you go. Believe it or not, therapy is important. So just give it a chance,"
"I know, I will. For you," He comforted.
"You're such a softie," You giggled. "Alright. Bye, Bucky,"
"Bye. I'll see you soon,"
Bucky heard you hang up, his phone reverting to his lock screen as he looked up at Christina who was nodding.
"Y/N. That's her name? Tell me about her," She wondered curiously. "You've never mentioned a neighbour you eat dinner with. And I'm assuming she knows your past too, that's a big step, Barnes,"
His face immediately dropped at how she would use this to dig deeper into Bucky's wellbeing. "She's my friend,"
"Friend. How do you define that? Buying groceries, pet names, teasing,"
"I define it by friendly banter and healthy connection," He excused. "Shouldn't you be congratulating me, or something?"
"You want praise for one of the most essential human things?" She reiterated. "We need relationships, we need attachments. But I got to say, good job. She sounds like a great girl,"
"She is. She's great," He said.
"And it's just friends, then? Nothing more, perhaps?" She wondered, her tone suggestive. "I don't think we've ever talked about romance. Or your sexual activity-"
"-Alright, you know, that isn't your business, frankly," Bucky quickly interrupted, shaking his head. "No, just- It's not like that. We're neighbours, we're friends, we're... good friends and that's it. Can we get back to the usual routine?"
She eyed him skeptically before nodding. "Alright, fine. But I will be bringing her up again in future sessions, which I know you'll be present for because she seems to really care about your mental health. Unlike you,"
Bucky rolled his eyes at that.
PART TWO (both can be read as a stand alone!)
A/N: Inspired by Gilmore Girls, ten points to anybody who can recognise it lmao okay, um, this isn’t anything special. I thought it was a cute little thing because I haven’t written a lot of fluff for Bucky which is crazy because I love this man so much <3 Also, this is based a little before TFATWS if that wasn’t obvious idk that’s how I pictured it. And... I think that’s it. Send requests, leave feedback, let me know if you’d want a little more to this, maybe a friends-to-lovers kind of thing? :) x
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𖥻 ،⠀‹ FUTURE CHILD TRAVELS BACK IN TIME ↷
▾ ꭛ ˖ ︴SUMMARY : where your and xiao's future son went back in time to when you and xiao were still not together.
▾ ꭛ ˖ ︴CHARACTERS : xiao x fem!reader
▾ ꭛ ˖ ︴WARNINGS : slight cursing, mentions of death, fluff, ooc xiao?
▾ ꭛ ˖ ︴NOTE : thank you for 100 followers :') i hope xiao isn't too out of character hahahajsjsjs. this will have a part two where it's reader who gets transported to the future OR future xiao gets transported to the past — which is where current you and xiao are. as usual, english is not my first language so please proof read!
if there was something that made the conqueror of demons anxious, it would be your safety — which he puts first and foremost no matter how much he denies it.
so imagine the anxiety he got when your nonstop yapping got replaced by a thud followed by a painful groan from your mouth.
xiao was quick to summon his spear, though forgetting to don his mask in fear of your own safety. with quick movements but never losing his gracefulness, xiao pinned whoever was stupid enough to attack you while he's around.
he froze at your voice, the tip of his spear placed near the intruder's neck.
looking closer, the boy's resemblance to xiao was uncanny. with eyes that matched your hue and teal tints at the tip of his hair long hair that reminded you of the adeptus. the boy — you guessed was around eight — had tears brimming at the corners of his eyes. his lips jutted out in a pout like he just cried, lips that resembled yours — was what xiao thought.
"that's a kid xiao," you deadpanned, having no idea of what to say as your mind shut down. the boy pinned underneath is literally xiao's clone, how were you supposed to take that in?
just when you thought it was just a coincidence, the boy squirmed out of xiao's grasp and ran to you with tears welling in his eyes. he yelled one thing you would never expect from a stranger who just slammed himself into you.
stunned, you looked at xiao to ask for help but panic settled in as he looked at you with hints of doubt and betrayal. you had to remind yourself that you and xiao are not together, but the way he refused to meet your gaze filled you with a sense of dread.
"wait! i swear i have no recollection of who this kid is!"
"no! you are!" the boy insisted and archons you wanted to smack the kid so bad. subtly glaring at him, words to scold the boy died down your throat the moment you got a good look of him again. he was so like xiao, minus the grumpiness of course.
you wished the kid kept his mouth close but he was far from done yet. letting his arms around your torso slacken, he turned to xiao. "and you, dad!"
to think there would be a day you'd see the mighty yaksha baffled enough to freeze on his spot. you swore he stopped breathing and the only indication he was still alive was the slight trembling of his hand that gripped his spear.
you all took a moment to let everything sink. now that you are calmer, you realized the boy materialized out of nowhere and slammed into you, considering how you and xiao were up the balcony in wangshu inn.
he claimed his name was yue, a boy from the far future. after the war against celestia broke out, teyvat was once again thrown into chaos, worse than the previous archon war. many lives were lost, including yours.
as yue told his story, the arms that clung to you tightened. the tears that he tried so hard to contain fell freely as he sobbed into you, repeatedly calling you mom and whispering you're alive like a mantra. it felt like someone was squeezing your heart as you watched the boy cry his heart out.
wars only bring losses, not wins. xiao knows this very well, and to think he'd lose you too. rather than the sun, you were the moon that gives light to his world during his darkest times. at first he called it bullshit, but yue's resemblance to both him and you was too great to ignore.
the boy refused to let not only you go, but his father as well. he held onto xiao's stiff hand, something that would've angered the yaksha if yue wasn't his son—even calling the boy that sounded ridiculous in his head.
still, you warmed up easily to the boy and accepted him openly. cradling his face on your hands, you drank in his features. this boy is a life you created with xiao. even with the premise of war and death, you couldn't help but smile tenderly.
to ease his pain, even for just a little, you kissed his forehead, softly and full of love a mother would to her children. to think such a young child saw such horrors—of blood spilled and bodies crumpled, you can't help but feel protective.
it was hard for xiao to accept everything readily, your impending death was the only thing he could think about. only when your hand brushed his did he snap out of such dark thoughts that threatened to swallow him. for once, the yaksha welcomed your warmth eagerly.
for how long will you keep giving him warmth, he wonders.
slowly, he got used to yue's small hand in his. carefully, he gripped the child's hand, careful not to apply too much strength. although you reminded him with a giggle that yue is probably an adeptus like him.
a family with you, a thought that had crossed xiao's mind but was never entertained, all now seemed possible with the appearance of the boy who called you both his family.
although awkward, xiao did his best to humor the child's sudden curiosity. "are you both still not together? archons, dad! are you going to make mom be the man in the relationship?!" to say that xiao choked on air a couple of times was an understatement and you couldn't help the fits of laughter that escaped your throat. pink dusted xiao's cheeks and it made him all the more less intimidating and instead, cuter.
yue practically became cupid to get you both together and it was adorable.
you both took him to liyue harbor, surprised that the mighty adeptus was willing to even go.
"it's for the child," he muttered, albeit awkwardly and if you weren't in love with him before, you are now.
"nothing has changed!" the boy mused as he roamed the harbor excitedly. a new geo archon took morax' place in his time and the boy pleaded he meet the said archon of your time. though zhongli had stepped down, he still carries with him the aura of a prime adeptus.
"so my yaksha does settle down," the wangsheng funeral consultant chuckled in amusement. happiness twinkled in zhongli's eyes as he watched over the boy gush about him. yue couldn't help it, after all, this was the archon his father served for so long.
as you walked across other sights, you held yue's hand on the right and xiao's on the other, hoping that this will ease the yaksha's discomfort. it was adorable how xiao was trying his best to be with the two of you.
to the eyes of onlookers, you three looked like a family—which wasn't far from the truth.
as you checked out souvenirs for yue to bring, the father and son hung back not too far from you. yue stared hard at xiao, trapping the conqueror of demons in his gaze. "dad," he began and xiao held his breath. "me and mom firmly believe that going against celestia was the correct thing to do. still, change mom's future, protect her and don't let her die."
xiao knew this was coming and for once, he smiled at the child—his son. "you didn't need to tell me." i'll protect you both.
as the moon began to peek out in place of the sun, yue found himself starting to slowly disappear. smiling sadly, the boy gripped onto your hand. "i'm glad i could see you again, i really miss you and dad too, he misses you so bad."
you bit your lip to distract yourself from the tears that threatened to fall. not bearing to say goodbye, you wordlessly held onto the child's hand, wishing to the moon to end his misery.
finally, yue was no more, no doubt back to his own timeline.
xiao watched as you become melancholic and his mind wandered to the oath he made with yue.
"hurry and make your move!" he remembered yue scolding him after, and maybe he was right.
gently, slowly, you find xiao's hand intertwining with yours. a silent question; will you stay by my side until death do us apart?
the moon witnessed many proclamations of love that night, a sight more beautiful than the world it guides with its light.
▾ ꭛ ˖ ︴END NOTE : should i do this for other genshin characters? i wanted to write this for kazuha and zhongli though. my kazuha brainriot haven't subsided yet.
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Bucky: *holds onto Y/N’s hand* Go away.
Y/N: You’re holding me, idiot.
Bucky: So mean.
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summary: referring to them as your husband even though you're still dating.
characters: katsuki bakugo, eijiorou kirishima, shoto todoroki, izuku midoriya, dabi, GN!reader
tags: pro hero!au, fluff, domestic prank, marriage talk, hospital talk(for izuku🙄)
💖reblogs > likes💖
bakugo: "I'll have the chicken fingers with the side of fries, yeah, and the honey mustard please," you paused as the employee on the other end of the phone repeated your order before asking if there was anything else. "Uh, yeah, my husband will have the shrimp alfredo, with an extra side of bread sticks." You finished giving the order, oblivious to the confused look Katsuki was giving you. When you looked over at him you just raised an eyebrow, "what's up?" He nearly scoffed, half offended, "what's up? what's up? how long have you been calling me your husband?" he looked like he was practically pouting as he waited for your answer. "I guess a couple months now..." Katsuki huffed, cheeks tinted pink, "does that mean I can call you my [wife/husband/life partner]?" now it was your turn to look at him blankly before you shut your mouth and nodded, "Y-Yeah! I'd like that..."
kirishima: it was just supposed to be a simple trip to the grocery store in your hometown, but of course, nothing is ever that simple. Not even five minutes into the store and someone from high school stopped to 'chat'. The person you barely talked to all those years ago suddenly wanted to do nothing but talk with you. "Oh, yeah, this is my husband, Eijiorou!" you cheerily introduced Eijiorou who looked at you shocked before smiling at your old classmate. As you were walking away to continue shopping he leaned a bit closer to you and excitedly asked you, "Husband? Really? Would you really marry me???" his eyes twinkled when you laughed and told him "yes, i would marry you." the rest of the shopping trip was filled with Eijiorou asking you questions about the potential wedding, head off in dreamland as you inspected the apples. "Big or small? What color theme? Roses or lilies? Church or beach?"
todoroki: Shoto was innocently playing on your phone while you were in the shower, all with your permission of course, when you received a text message. "(Y/N), (Friend) just texted you!" he called out to you from the bedroom. "Oh, just go ahead and answer it for me!" Shoto nodded and opened your messages app. He read through the conversation to gain enough context, seeing you responded to your friend >Can't hang today, spending it with the husband!<, explaining their most recent text of >Awh, you two are so cute! How about tomorrow?< Shoto paused, rereading your text over a couple times, his cheeks blushing as he read you referring to him as your husband. After a minute of internally screaming he realized he still needed to respond for you. >Tomorrow the husband has something big planned for us, how about next week? I'll have something to show you then.< After he sent it he smiled to himself, knowing if you read it you'd be slightly confused. But the small black box Shoto kept in his shirt drawer would explain it all tomorrow.
midoriya: izuku groaned as he came out of the anesthesia, the commotion outside of the door breaking him from his rest. "that's my husband in there, you have to let me see him!" your voice was desperate and rushed as you talked to whoever was keeping you from entering. Whoever it was must have relented because soon after the door burst open with the sight of you rushing over to his bed. "darling! Are you alright? Well, clearly you're not alright, heavens, look at you..." Izuku smiled weakly at you as the nurse trailed in behind. "Please make sure not to stress him out. And only ten minutes." You scoffed and looked over your shoulder to them, "I won't stress him out and that's up to my husband, not you!" Izuku tilted his head slightly, wondering who your husband was. His slower thought process then came to the realization that it was him and then he spent ten minutes wondering when he proposed to you and another twenty trying to remember your wedding anniversary.
dabi: "Oh please, my husband could kick your ass with his eyes closed, now get lost you pervert." Dabi overheard you sass some man in the bar as he returned with your drinks. Mildly confused at the way his chest tightened when he heard you talk about him. And the whole husband title...shit, maybe it affected him more than he wanted it to. Regardless, his chest puffed out, more than willing to play that role of protective husband for you. "We got a problem here, dearest?" he questioned lowly, eyes locked with the man who was bothering you, Dabi relishing in the fear that flickered through the man's eyes. Maybe he could get used to that husband title after all...
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Loki x Fem!reader
Fluff || Foul Language || Romance || College AU
I GUESS I’M IN LOVE by Clinton Kane and a softer side of Loki that we don’t always get to see. Also I’ve always wanted to write a College AU and now is my time!
“Okay so we know the plan?” Loki looked around curious who would answer first.
“It’s go time boys! Don’t over think it. It’s a party. Just get your drink then find someone to talk to.” Tony announced the game plan and Loki shrugged in agreement as they all acknowledged the plan.
“I’m still in my uniform.”
“So is Clint. Who cares? We’re here to pick someone up for the night. Let that be your hook. Get your ass inside.” Thor told his brother as Clint threw a finger gun in their direction as he walked by to enter the sorority house.
You had just taken you third shot with Gamora who let out a battle cry and you howled with her with laugher. She hugged you and the two of you laughed as you held onto one another as you made your way back to the sofa where others were gathering for the game of Cards Against Humanity that was starting to peak everyone’s interest.
The front door opened and you gasped as you jumped up and walked around people to greet the new guests. You saw Tony but heard Thor as he let out a howl of his presence. Carol ran by you and jumped onto Thor laughing with him as he walked her back to the crowd. You laughed as she held onto him like a koala.
“TONY! YOU BOYS MADE IT!” You greeted him with a warm hug that he took advantage of.
He wrapped his arms tight around your middle and picked you up before setting you down and kissing your cheek.
“Hello Hello! We did make it! how’s this party going? It’s blowing. Everyone is playing cards!”
“Hey! It’s fun! You go check it out before you change shit!” you laughed as he went off and Clint gave you a high five on his way around you.
“Loki! Hey! You made it.” you smirked as the two of you were left alone in the foyer.
“I did. Would you say I cleaned up nice enough this time?”
“Well this time you have clothes on. So. It’s an improvement.” you winked and he couldn’t help but look away with a smirk.
You giggled and beckoned him to come forward with your index finger. He raised a brow as he moved in closer and looked down at you with a smirk. You turned to look over your shoulder at the crowd as his hands made their way around your waist and his breath hot on your cheek. you grinned and as you turned back your lips met and his fingers squeezed you before he let go completely and straightened his jacket.
“When will we get to sneak away?” he teased as he brushed his nose against your hairline and traced circles into your forearms.
You shuttered and stood taller as you grasped his forearms and pulled him into another kiss. He blinked a few times then melted into the kiss as he moved his hands back around you and further down your lower back. Smiling into his lips you moved his hand to your ass and nibbled on his lip.
“AAAOOOOO AOOOOOOOOO” Bucky howled from the top of the stairs to your left.
You and Loki froze as the others stopped and turned to see you staring up at Bucky and Loki pulling his hands off you.
“LOKI LOKI LKOI!” the others started chanting with Bucky as he came down the stairs and took Loki by the shoulders and shoved him into the main room.
You laughed and ran up to Loki’s side taking his hand in yours as he shrugged and stared at you while they all cheered the two of you on for a moment before going back to their games.
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Can I ask for more am thoughts with Wilbur plsssss
*Y/n with Wilbur at 4am*
Y/n: "Does a straw have two holes or one?"
Wilbur: "If you get scared half to death twice, do you die?"
Y/n: "If a poison expires, is it even more poisonous or no longer poisonous?"
Tubbo to Tommy: "Are they always like this?"
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Me waiting for the Shang Chi fanfics once it comes out because I am already simping for this man:
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bad habit | jjk | m
[ ! ] this is part of the bad influence collection. This part cannot be read as a stand-alone.
— summary; in which your little secret starts to get out of hand.
— contents and warnings; smut, sprinkles of fluff and angst, mutual pining, the endless adventures of badboy!jk x goodgirl!reader, enemies with benefits/enemies to lovers, smoking, mentions of alcohol, mention of vomit, jk and Jisoo are mortal enemies, Taehyung gets his eureka moment, and for the smut warnings: dirty talk, spit kink, dom!jk x sub!reader, breast play, rough sex, mild possessiveness, grinding, so much kissing, oral (fem receiving), cum eating, spanking, manhandling, bondage (using a belt… anyways so-), unprotected sex (don’t be dumb!!! this is fiction), very vague corruption kink, creampie, cockwarming (no one is surprised), praise, degradation makes a comeback (+ use of the word “slut”), the long awaited return of jk being mean, orgasm control/denial, oc kinda cries out of frustration but she’s having a good time, they are in love but are too dumb to realize
— words; 16,7k
— author’s notes; did y’all think you’d get rid of mean jk like that? Ha! Think again. As promised, this specific chunk of the story ended up being very relevant for the following parts, so this is why I decided to post this first. Probably all big parts will be in chronological order from now on, with only the drabbles going back and forth in time. Also, this one focuses a lot on a few side characters as well, so allow me to dump a lot of lore into this series at once lmao. This happens mid-semester, after bad reputation/bad attitude.
Jungkook hated your friends sometimes.
Now, he tried not to be a complete douchebag about it: you obviously cared about them a lot, and they made you happy. Jungkook liked when you were happy; he wasn’t planning on dragging you away from them or anything insane like that. No: the fact that he hated your friends was more of a reaction than an action, most likely catalyzed by the fact that your friends really fucking hated him too.
It didn’t use to bother him so much, but, as things between the two of you continued to progress at a dangerous pace, he saw the shadows of your friends expanding behind you more and more. You, bless your heart, still cared too much about what some of them thought and, as much as you had grown quite fond of Jungkook, their venomous comments still held you back. It seemed as if everyone around you already had a clear-cut plan of who should or shouldn’t enter your life and, well, old habits are tough to break. He understood one or two things about that.
It was a chilly night in an overcrowded party when Jungkook’s cigarette break was utterly ruined by your best friend, Jisoo, stumbling out into the backyard. He could only follow, with an expression of disgust plastered all over his face, as she fell to her knees and decided to ruin Hoseok’s pristine grass with the remnants of her dinner.
Still, he couldn’t care too much about her well-being when she almost fell facedown in a puddle of her own puke, because the fact that Jisoo, Miss Perfection Herself, was there (in a party, of all places) only meant one thing: you probably were too. And it also meant that she and her poor reflux control had just ruined his chances at being with you for the night.
And, sure enough, you quickly showed up on the doorway, sighing as you saw her catastrophic state. “Oh god, Jisoo,” you called out, graciously stepping into his field of vision, “not again.”
Hoseok’s house was near campus, courtesy of having two renowned college professors as parents, and his parties were well-known amongst students. Jungkook was somewhat close to Hoseok, especially considering that the boy helped him cheat a few too many times, and had grown dangerously familiar with the parties that he used to throw every time his parents went on a trip. It was almost a semestral occasion, considering that his parents seemed to be complete addicts to the scientific congresses in their fields, and didn’t miss a single one.
Those parties were often tricky situations for everyone involved, because there were the people who just wanted to have a good time, and there were the ones who took it upon themselves to get revenge on the fact that his parents might have fucked them over during their classes. Jungkook started attending them because Hoseok needed someone else to help him take care of the place and, since he considered Jungkook to be someone that looked “scary enough”, he became his makeshift security for the night. In turn, of course, of catching a glimpse at the future test of his choosing. It was a good enough balance.
Point was: Jungkook had witnessed a lot coming from those parties. And, still, seeing you must’ve been the strangest thing of all.
Not because you didn’t look good — in fact, his heart almost jumped out of his chest the second that you appeared into frame — but because that entire context was just so… unlike you. He had seen you frequent bars in the past (well, only once, but it was something), and you had briefly mentioned that you had been invited to a frat party once, but you said that you didn’t go. Apparently, you didn’t like the environment, which he thought was fair: it was you. He didn’t think the day would come that he’d see you in a place like that.
But, well, it was you. Even if he was sure that you were thrown into that dress as a happy accident and that something grave must’ve happened to drag you to that place, you were right there, in arm’s reach, and yet so far away. Jungkook had the momentaneous pleasure of seeing you simply existing outside of his own bubble, of witnessing your worried expression and hear your soft words as you tried to help your friend. Just like that, he was sure it would be a strange night.
He had his back against the asperous wall, standing a few steps away from the door that led to the backyard. Most people didn’t notice him there as they walked out, directly at their blind spot, and you didn’t seem to be any different. Jungkook wanted to reach out, though, to insert himself into that nightmare you were living through, try to make that sad face of yours better. But Jisoo was also right there, ready to snap at him — drunk or not.
Frankly, Jungkook only kind of hated your friends, but it was a better crutch to think that than to actually face his obstacles head-first.
Truth was: he was starting to have issues when it came to approaching you. Things were slightly different now, shifted and off-balance, and Jungkook couldn’t tell which rhythm to follow. It was much easier when the two of you would just bicker at each other and then move away, allowing for those ephemeral encounters to dissipate from your minds until, at last, you’d cross paths again. Now that was mostly gone, instead replaced by a layer of intimacy that hadn’t been there before — rather, that he had never been faced with before.
It was difficult to think when he was around you, mostly because he’d get lost in you — and, when he tried to pull away, he’d fall back into his own cyclical thoughts.
And it was that exact situation that he found himself in. As he watched your delicate fingers brushing Jisoo’s hair away from her face, Jungkook noticed himself fumble around for the right thing to say, but there was nothing. So, completely out of options, but still wanting to talk to you, he limited himself to one dumb question at a time. “Is it her first time drinking or something?”
You furrowed your brows, turning around. An expression that he could not classify— relief? Preoccupation? — crossed your face as you recognized him. “Something like that,” was all that you said before you turned back to your friend. “Jisoo, honey, are you okay? Yongsun is already calling you an Uber, alright?”
Jungkook scoffed — honey? That girl was anything but sweet. She was probably the enraged bear that destroyed the hive. “Damn.” He chuckled, taking his cigarette to his mouth. You followed as the faint cloud of smoke curled out of his nostrils like tentacles, vanishing into the cool atmosphere. “Did she fail a test or something? Why is she like that?”
The glare you gave him was so cold that Jungkook was ready to backtrack when you spoke up again. “None of your business, Jungkook,” you said, just as emotionless. He was somewhat used to you treating him like a stranger around other people, but you were never rude to him. “If you could stop talking now, I’d greatly appreciate it.”
“I’m just asking,” he murmured, his voice muted by the disgusting sound of Jisoo returning her food to the land. Jungkook turned his face away so he wouldn’t have to look at that mess anymore. “No need to get all pissy.”
You scoffed. “I’m not pissy,” you told him. Jungkook wanted to laugh because you were for sure angry, but he didn’t want to make the situation worse. Lucky for him, your attention was dragged elsewhere as your other friend — the roommate, if he recalled correctly — stepped into view. “You were right about it. She puked again.”
Yongsun looked and sounded like she had just been dragged out of a hurricane — during moments like those, she really went complete mom-mode. “The Uber is here. I asked him to wait a bit,” she told you as she approached the two of you, watching as you struggled to get Jisoo back on her feet. It seemed as if she wasn’t even trying to keep her body stable at that point. “Also got a plastic bag from the kitchen in case she needs to… you know.”
“Yeah.” You signaled towards your drunk friend with a short movement of your head. “Help me out here, please.”
Yongsun agreed, going on the other side and wrapping one hand around Jisoo’s waist. Jungkook was starting to feel a bit bad now — not because of them, but because you seriously looked like you needed a break from all that.
And that was the sole reason why he decided to insert himself in that situation one more time. “Need some help?” He asked nonchalantly, a thick cloud of smoke leaving his lips.
Yongsun’s eyes snapped in his direction, apparently noticing Jungkook for the first time. She glared at him for a second before saying, “No. We’re good,” and looking away.
He found your gaze, waiting to see if you were going to say anything. You simply shook your head and broke eye contact, shattering something inside his soul.
Yongsun sighed in relief when the two of you finally managed to place Jisoo on her feet. “That’s it, Jisoo. Take it slow.” You two gave an experimental step towards the house, which she thankfully followed. Apparently, the hardest part was to get her up, because the rest was completely based on inertia. If she was moving, she’d keep on moving. “Let’s go to the car, okay? So we can get home.”
And it wasn't a surprise that Jisoo’s first words ever since she started to feel sick were, “God, this is so embarrassing,” she whined, pulling down her skirt. It hadn’t moved up, but you guessed she probably felt exposed in more ways than one. “I don’t wanna go through the party.”
“There’s no way around the house. Only through it,” Yongsun spoke softly, as if she was scared of saying the wrong things. You could understand her reluctance, Jisoo was extremely hard to deal with when she was in that headspace. “Come on, baby, it’s not that bad.”
She paused her uneasy steps. “I don’t wanna be seen like this.”
Maybe an angel had its hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, maybe he was seriously feeling bad about what you were having to deal with, but he decided to be the bigger person and help your friends. “You should go through the kitchen,” Jungkook interjected. Both you and Yongsun looked at him in confusion — hers was probably more genuine than yours. “There’s another way to the front door and practically no one is there by this point of the party. Everyone’s either upstairs or in the living room.”
You nodded, alleviation washing over your face. “Okay, sounds good,” you breathed out, looking at Jisoo to get her permission. “We can do that, right?”
Jisso agreed with a nod, and you three finally managed to get her inside the house after a few extra missed steps. As you did, Youngsun looked at Jungkook and uttered a simple, “Thanks, by the way.”
He nodded, not making eye contact. “No problem.”
You could never quite tell what Yongsun thought about Jungkook, and you weren’t planning on asking her anytime soon. You knew that she wasn’t especially fond of him — or the smoking, really, since she ranted about that almost weekly — but she wasn’t even close to the level of disapproval that you encountered when you talked to Jisoo. If you had to guess, you’d say that Yongsun probably feared him a little, taken aback by the brooding stares and sarcastic remarks he always had ready to share.
Also, there were the rumors about him. You had heard a few already, but, the more you came to know Jungkook, the less you believed them. From where you stood, privileged enough to see both sides of the situation, it looked like the classic case of things being blown out of proportion as they circulated. Jungkook spray painting somewhere on campus? More likely than you think. Jungkook being an arsonist? Absolutely not.
It was strange how simultaneously everyone and no one knew him. Jungkook had gathered a bit of fame for himself — or infamy, depending on your perspective — and you weren’t ignorant as to why. He seemed and acted cool, he looked as smoking hot as they come, and he glared at people like he was ready to break hearts (or faces) left and right. The overall male-attracted population of campus came flocking around him in no time.
Rather, people knew of Jungkook. They just didn’t know him. And you were slowly finding out who he was beneath all that.
The sound of Yongsun’s shoe sliding against the wet concrete caught your attention and you braced yourself for a catastrophe that, thankfully, never arrived. She managed to regain her balance, cursing under her breath as you two gave your final steps towards the parked car.
“Come on, sweetie, let’s go to your place. Just a bit more.” Yongsun was far more delicate than you when it came to situations like that. You often didn’t know how to deal with people when they were shitfaced (or with yourself, frankly). Lack of practice. “You have your apartment keys, right?”
Jisoo nodded, but she still looked out of it. Half because of the booze, the other half because of shame.
“You sure you don’t wanna take her to our place?” You asked Yongsun, opening the car door. The driver gave a quick glimpse at Jisoo and widened his eyes, probably praying to all the gods above that she wouldn’t ruin his precious leather seats. “I can help too.”
“No, it’s fine. She’ll be more comfortable at home anyways.” Yongsun struggled to place the girl on the backseat, with Jisoo’s nails digging to her forearm in a terrible attempt at grounding herself. “Besides — fuck, girl, relax — besides the fact that she’s gonna kick me out the second that she sobers out. It’s better if she’s already in her own place when she tries to do that.”
“Fair,” you commented, unsure of what to do with your hands — or with yourself in general. “Sure you don’t want me to go?”
“Yeah, it’s better if it’s just me. I’m pretty used to it.” After finally managing to buckle Jisoo up, Yongsun shut the door, already moving towards the other side of the vehicle. “See you tomorrow, alright? Text me when you get home.”
You nodded, and your friend got in the car. “You too.” Swiftly, you lowered your upper body so you could lean on the window, looking at the two of them. “Jisoo, I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Take a shower and go to sleep, alright?”
“___, wait.” She grabbed your hand and pulled you in, almost making you hit your forehead against the roof of the car. You decided to give it a pass, since she was clearly out of it. “Did someone see me like this?” Her words were slurried together and you needed a few seconds to pull those syllables apart. When it all clicked, her terrified gaze was all that you could focus on. “Please tell me that no one saw me. This is a nightmare.”
You sighed, removing your hand from her own. It was better to lie in a situation like that. “Just Yongsun and I, it’s fine. No one saw you,” you told her. Jisoo simply nodded, face melting with relief. You leaned back, taking a step away from the car. “Be safe, okay? You two.”
As the vehicle sped away, you still caught a few fragments of Yongsun’s speech as she tried to convince the driver that she had a plastic bag, so it was all under control. It was such an odd situation to be placed in, you realized, such an unreal moment that developed from your best friend being completely unable to deal with any sort of societal disapproval. It almost felt like a joke.
Jisso was kind of a strange character, you thought. There was something inside her that ached to be accepted — to be the very best at everything, to have the biggest amount of friends, to be liked by everyone. You were used to it and, frankly, you could see a lot of that toxic trait in yourself as well. You just didn’t know it could get to that level, in which she’d drink beyond the point of reasoning just to blend in.
It wasn’t exactly a surprise when Jisoo asked you to go to a party with her, but it was a bad sign. Jisoo had only gone to a handful of parties in her life (still more than you, if you had to guess) and, every single one, it was because of peer pressure. Because of a guy that she liked that was going; because a friend at the time manipulated her into keeping her company; because everyone else was, so she had to go too, so she wouldn’t be let out. As much as you accepted the fact that you spent a good chunk of your life seeking approval, it didn’t get close to what Jisoo went through. It was a much more distorted, intense mirror of yourself, one that didn’t allow her much self reflection.
Jisoo hated Jungkook for a lot of different reasons, some more personal than others, but they were all covered by a thick layer of disgust for the fact that he, unlike her, didn’t care about anything — and he still ended up in the same place as her. Jisoo spent her entire high school studying like a madwoman, only to be in the same college as someone who took the “high” in “high school” way too personally. She cared about her social life, cared about making friends; stretched herself thin to make everyone happy — only to see Jungkook doing it effortlessly, all kinds of people flocking around him like vultures to a carcass. She could not comprehend how someone so different could end up with the same general outcome; thought that it was unfair that she had to work so hard for so much when Jungkook simply sat around, waiting for a miracle to fulfill his shallow wishes, and it often happened.
She had constructed her own black and white narrative in her head, because that was far easier than to be faced with the fact that people are made of several shades of grey. Again: you kind of understood that. You had been there once, and were still fighting against a few flashes of that entitled mindset on the daily — most of which applied to Jungkook himself.
Speaking of the devil, you found Jungkook in the same spot, stepping on what was left of his cigarette. “Sorry about that,” you told him, leaning your back on the wall next to him. There weren’t so many people in the backyard (most of the party was concentrated inside the house), and the few present ones seemed to be too distracted to bat an eye at either one of you. “Problems at home. Long story.”
“It’s fine,” Jungkook guaranteed, even if he wasn’t so sure about it for a second. There was something bitter burning its way up his esophagus, and he didn’t like that one bit. “Didn’t know you’d be here tonight.”
“I didn’t plan to, really.” You shrugged. “It just kind of happened. Jisoo is having a rough time, one of our friends gave the idea and well… you saw how that turned out.” You signaled towards the dirty grass. “I wasn’t planning on sticking around, though.”
He raised one eyebrow, glimpsing at you. “Past tense?”
“Yeah. Past tense.” You smiled, looking down at yourself. The dress that you had borrowed from Yongsun wasn’t too revealing, and yet it made you feel like you were naked. You didn’t know if it was the way the fabric held to your waist and breasts, or if it was the way that the hem was far higher up than you were used to, but you felt strange. Not bad, necessarily, just strange. “What about you?” You looked back up at him.
“Taehyung dragged me over here,” Jungkook said, focused on the strangers that danced around the pool. It was just a matter of time before one of them lost balance, and he didn’t want to be there to see it — he had better ideas brewing amongst his thoughts. “He pretty much vanished in three minutes, though. He always does that.”
You pouted. “Aw, poor thing. Your friend left you alone?”
He scoffed. “Look who’s talking.”
“Fair enough.” You crossed your arms, trying to shield yourself from the coolness of the night. “Sorry if I was rude to you earlier, by the way. I was pretty mad at that entire situation. I also didn’t have the best week, but that’s a completely different story.”
“It’s fine, shit happens,” Jungkook said, sounding as if he was only half-present in the conversation. “You don’t look like you wanna talk about it.”
“Yep. Not at all.”
And that was when he decided to strike. “Do you have plans for the rest of the night, by the way?”
You turned to look at him, a knowing smile already curling up on your lips. Good to know that some things didn’t change so easily, and that Jungkook still was direct when it came to getting you alone. “Something in your mind?”
“Maybe,” he spoke slowly, testing the waters. You had that malicious glint in the depths of your irises, but he also knew that things were often not that easy. Just because you were interested, didn’t mean that it would happen. “What are the chances I’ll get you alone around here?”
Much to his inner despair, you didn’t respond to that question right away, instead hitting back with a, “Why would you want that?”
“You know why.” Once again, Jungkook didn’t allow any room for interpretation. Apparently, he wasn’t in the mood to skirt around the subject either. “Wanna get a room upstairs?”
You took a deep breath, uncrossing your arms. “Not sure, do I?” By that point, you were buying yourself some time. At the same time that you wanted to, all those people around you were more than enough to make you reconsider. “Seems kinda risky.”
He scoffed. “We’ve done worse things in worse places.”
“None as crowded as this one though,” you threw back, signaling with your head towards the backyard. Not to mention the inside of the house, which probably constituted a fire hazard at that point. “Anyone can see us together.”
Jungkook didn’t care at that point. Some part of him almost wished that someone would, so you didn’t have an excuse to continue with that suffocating secret any further. Instead, what he said was, “We’ll lock the door.” But you didn’t seem convinced. “Seriously, everyone in Hoseok’s parties is far too drunk or too high to care. No one’s gonna notice, and the ones that will won’t give a fuck.”
You paused. “You know Hoseok? His mom was one of my teachers last semester.”
Jungkook nodded. “Yeah, we’re… friends, I guess.” He didn’t know how to classify his situation with Hoseok: they were more than acquaintances, but not even close to actually being friends. Probably partners in crime. “Long story.”
“How mysterious,” you teased, the ghost of a smile crossing over your features. Jungkook melted slightly under your gaze, so he rushed to find solace somewhere else, choosing to look at the intoxicated, loud-talking guests near the pool. You apparently took that as a silent admission of guilt. “It’s okay, I know he steals tests. You can tell me that.”
Jungkook laughed at that, taken a bit off guard. He had no idea that people like you — as in, people who studied for tests — knew that kind of information. It was even more amazing that you didn’t snitch. “I never said a word,” he said playfully. “And you have no way to prove it.”
You giggled. “Wouldn’t dream about it,” you told him. Jungkook was staring at you now, expectation glinting inside his eyes. You raised one eyebrow. “What?”
The light brush of the back of his hand against yours was almost imperceptible, fingers bumping against each other before they fell back into place. “Come on, let’s go somewhere else,” he tried again, much softer this time. “I miss you.”
You smiled at that, heat building up on your cheeks. Truth was: you missed him too. “I’m here right now,” was what you told him instead.
He sighed. “You know what I mean.”
Yeah, you did. Things were a bit rough when it came to seeing each other now. A few weeks after your post-winter break fiasco, Jungkook had unceremoniously decided that he wouldn’t take another semester of immunology (technically, he had already started it, but he felt no guilt when he decided to drop it). It was already a heaven-sent miracle that he managed to pass with the exact required grade the first time, and he wasn’t pushing his luck: if the basics were that horrible, he couldn’t even imagine the advanced subjects. And so your tutoring sessions with him went down the drain.
So it was clear to see how your situation was getting a bit trickier, since you had lost your primal excuse for, well, basically everything. Before, you could blame anything on the fact that you were tutoring him. Caught sneaking somewhere strange? Just a shortcut to the library. Your friends couldn’t reach you for hours? Last minute help, with no distraction. Why did you talk to Jungkook (and why did he talk to you)? The tutoring, obviously. Nothing more.
Of course, you two still saw one another, but it was under different, more dangerous circumstances. Perhaps that was why you were so swiftly swept away by his pleading puppy eyes, even if you didn’t believe that was the best decision.
“Fine,” you accepted with a sigh, “I’ll go upstairs and text you where to find me. Wait a few minutes, though. Don’t make it super obvious.”
“Have a little faith in me, princess.” Jungkook smirked, placing his hands inside the pockets of his jacket. “I’m a master when it comes to sneaking around.”
You rolled your eyes. “You better be.”
One amazing fact about Hoseok’s parties was that a good chunk of his guests were far too worried about his parents’ status to dare to do something in their room, and that fear spread out just enough to keep his own bedroom empty as well. Every once in a while, someone would adventure inside one of those places and, lucky you, you were the chosen one for the night. Jungkook almost laughed out loud when he got your text — you were blessed enough to choose Hoseok’s room, at least. That one he could deal with, if necessary.
Like you had told him to, he waited a little before following you upstairs. In those moments of expectancy, however, his thoughts once again got the best of him. Jungkook was never someone to overthink — if anything, it was the opposite, merely letting life follow its course — but, when it came to you, it was different. That scared him deeply, and so did the contents of his poderations: he always felt so much lighter after he talked to you, even if it was something so simple, so ephemeral, as the conversation the two of you had shared that night... but there was something off.
He couldn’t pinpoint what it was at first, so it grew and grew inside his heart, clawing at his soul, burning its way up his stomach. There was sadness in it, he noticed, a bizarre melancholy that walked side by side his other thoughts — you were so pretty, he said to himself, so bittersweet; he wanted to hug and kiss you until he was out of breath, until there was nothing else in the world but the two of you.
Unfortunately, though, the world was still so crowded. There was nothing he could do about it.
Jungkook walked inside the house, diving into the overwhelming heat and the loud beating of the song. He was lost in his own world, trying to figure out what the demon on his shoulder was whispering to him, but being unable to do so. Out of options, he let it go. For now.
He entered the bedroom about ten minutes after you — the sound of the party growing into a thunderous roar as the door opened, then morphing into an indiscernible humming as it closed. Jungkook stood there for a moment, looking at you for a couple seconds, before his eyes darted around the dark ambient.
The moonlight was dripping past the thin curtains, accumulating in silver puddles on the floor. You had decided to leave the lights off so as not to receive any unnecessary attention from anyone else, but it was having the opposite effect when it came to Jungkook. If he thought that, if stared at you for long enough, he might lose his composure completely.
“Haven’t been in this place in so long.” He placed his hands inside the pockets of his black jacket, following the details of Hoseok’s band posters all over the walls. His room was tidy, filled with trophies and honorary mentions that almost made Jungkook burst out laughing. Instead, just as he was about to do so, he met your inquisitive gaze. He instantly folded. “Okay, okay, I paid to get a stolen test from him. Happy? Go ahead and call the cops.”
You smiled. “I’m not saying anything.”
Jungkook rolled his eyes. “Like you need to do that,” he replied, walking towards the bed. You looked so beautiful under those pale lights that he could no longer avoid it, succumbing into the magnetic pull you had on him. “You’re judging silently, you’re like a pro at that.”
“Fair,” you acknowledged, body bouncing up a little as he sat down next to you. There was a thickness permeating the atmosphere now, a cloud of heat that surrounded you, booming inside your chest. It had been some time since you two were that close and it showed. “I’m full of talents.”
He smirked, leaning back on one hand. The other one found its way to the nape of your neck, thumb caressing your skin. “I know you are,” Jungkook mumbled, stare flickering towards your lips. “Come here.”
No need to tell you twice. You met him halfway, a sigh of relief leaving your lungs as his lips found yours. One second later and your hands were finding support on his broad shoulders, fingers gripping on the fabric of his jacket as Jungkook held you up, guiding you towards his lap. A long time ago, he had told you that having you straddling him was the best position to kiss you in, and you had to agree.
The new angle allowed him to deepen the kiss with ease, a grunt vibrating inside his throat as his tongue played with yours. It was all so fast-paced, so needy — merely a byproduct of your accumulated sex drive, which wasn’t even held back for that long. More and more, however, you realized that the issue came directly from him, and the ghostly touches Jungkook left behind. It was easy to miss him when he kissed you like his life depended on it, hands exploring your body as he moaned against your tongue; it was easy to want more when he was always eager to provide; when you gave him everything and he still wanted more.
And Jungkook didn’t know what worried him the most: if he continued to ask for more and it pushed you away, or if you actually gave him what he asked for. Because, in the end, there was still an annoying fly of insecurity buzzing around him, telling him that he’d never be enough for you; never would make the cut to be part of your life. Every time he made out with you, he felt like he was playing the world’s most dangerous game and that he was just too deep to back out now. It could be the last time he kissed you, the last taste of your tongue before you realized you deserve someone better than him. And he would be left behind to pick up the pieces of his shattered heart off the floor.
Still, every time that you proved to him that it wouldn’t be the last time, he felt equally desperate. That made him realize what his previous anguish was about, made him see that there was a shadow being casted over him for some time now, and he simply didn’t know when he’d hit a brick wall, but he was positive that he would. What would change if, against all odds, the two of you continued together? What would change if people knew? Would the thrill be gone, or would your connection be better, more genuine? Could he actually handle being that close to someone?
All those thoughts crashed into each other inside his brain, flowing like tempestuous waves as his hands gripped onto the flesh of your hips. You felt so soft above him, with your breasts pressed against his chest and your nails scratching on his scalp, that he never wanted to let you go.
He groaned when you slowly moved your hips against his, searching for friction. You wished that he would continue making out with you like that until the stars burned out, but Jungkook had other plans in mind. “Fuck, I missed kissing you,” he cursed as he pulled away, his lips meeting your jaw straight away. He smooched and licked his way down your skin, his breath heavy and warm against the small wet spots he left behind. His hands were on your ass, squeezing as you pressed yourself down against his growing erection. “Whose dress is this, by the way?”
“Yongsun’s,” you told him, fingers digging amongst the strands of his dark hair. He only hummed in return. “I didn’t have anything to wear to a party, so she let me borrow this.”
He chuckled against your skin. Your neck seemed to be terribly sensitive that night, because it didn’t take long until you were gasping at the feeling of his lips and tongue against it, “Shocker,” he mumbled. Jungkook’s hands slithered under the hem of said dress, groping your ass beneath the fabric. Your back arched, center rolling against his covered cock once more. “I like it.”
“Yeah?” You breathed out.
“Yeah,” Jungkook agreed, moving down to your clavicles. “Is driving me crazy. I should thank her next time I see her.”
“You should not.” You giggled. “Just don’t ruin it, since it’s not mine.”
He hummed, one hand flying up to the zipper. “Don’t worry, baby, it’s not gonna stay on for long.”
Jungkook, of course, was a man of his word. It took him a few failed attempts to successfully pull the zipper down, allowing for the soft fabric to slide away from your body, and another couple seconds of fumbling and shifting around until the piece of clothing was fully removed. He was especially eager that night — his mouth attacking your neck every time you pulled away from his kisses, sucking and biting on the flesh until you were whimpering.
With that out of the way, he held you tightly by the waist and turned you around, his figure closely following your own as your back crashed against the bed. You tried to move upwards, closer to the pillows, but Jungkook tugged you back into place by the hips.
“No, no,” he teased, positioning himself between your legs, “you stay here.”
You rolled your eyes, but didn’t protest when he pushed your thighs apart. “You’re so rude sometimes.”
Jungkook nodded, fingers hooking around the hem of your panties and pulling it down, throwing it somewhere behind him. “You love it,” he said.
When it came to that, your body betrayed you straight away. It only took one glimpse at your pussy to know that you were already wet, and the uneasiness in which your hands grasped the sheets didn’t help you disguise your anticipation at all. Jungkook, of course, already knew that, and he was ready to give you whatever you asked for.
Air got trapped in your lungs as he started placing wet, sloppy kisses on the inner side of your thigh. You gasped at the tingling feeling, goosebumps spreading through your body as Jungkook’s lips gradually approached your mound. “D-Did you lock the door?” You asked.
“Yes,” he answered, his voice muffled against your skin.
But your paranoia was getting the best of you, so another question soon filled the stuffy atmosphere. “And what if someone hears us?”
“They won’t.” He breathed out, mildly irritated. Jungkook didn’t know why you were thinking so much about other people when he was right there, his mouth so close to where you needed him the most. “Music’s too loud.”
It was loud, you just didn’t know if it was loud enough. Your attention was called towards the closed door, somewhat expecting that someone would burst it open at any given second. “And you don’t think your friend is going to be pissed that we’re doing it in his bedroom?” You tried again.
Jungkook raised his head just slightly, staring you down. He was impatient, that was clear, and your constant doubting was starting to get on his nerves as well. The door was locked, the music was ridiculously loud, and no one would see the two of you. You had let him fuck you in far worse places, he didn’t know why you were suddenly so self conscious about being in a private room. “Seriously couldn’t give less of a fuck about what he’s gonna think about this,” he groaned. Much to your dismay, Jungkook moved straight past your pussy, kissing his way up your lower abdomen. “I can fix that later.”
“That’s a terrible life motto.” You smiled, but there was an anxious edge to your voice that he didn’t miss. His hands squeezed your waist as he pulled your body forwards, mouth hovering over your covered breasts. You got the cue, and raised your torso just enough so his hand could unclasp your bra. “Can get you in a lot of trouble.”
Jungkook scoffed, mindlessly throwing your underwear away. You were completely exposed now, while he hadn’t even removed his jacket. “I have the basic common sense to know when to use it,” he responded, his mouth clinging to your breasts straight away. Jungkook could probably die with his face between your tits and he’d be a happy man, just sucking on your nipples and listening to those whiny, soft sighs you produced for him.
However, even that you managed to ruin. “I have my doubts about that.” You chuckled.
Jungkook groaned, finally putting an end to his ministrations. “Can you be quiet for a second?”
You smirked. It was always fun to get under his skin. “Thought you like it when I get loud,” you teased.
He didn’t miss a beat. “Not like this.”
You raised your eyebrows. “Like what?”
“___,” Jungkook breathed out, shutting his eyes for an instant. Oh he was pissed pissed. Got it. “I’m not in the mood for this shit tonight.”
Every new question coming from you was another shot in the dark, not knowing what you would hit. “For what?” You pressed further.
“You being bratty,” he growled, his hands sinking to your hips as he pulled your body closer to his. You could feel his erection straining against his pants, poking your inner thigh as he pressed his weight down on you. “Seriously not in the fucking mood.”
“That’s too bad.” You pouted — in all honesty, though, you were already starting to second guess that demeanor of yours. Just because it was fun to play with fire, it didn’t mean that you should. You should’ve learned your lesson by that point. “What has gotten into you?”
Jungkook hesitated, wondering if he should say it or not — if it would actually solve anything, or only make it more complicated. It wasn’t only one thing: it was the fact that he hadn’t seen in you in some time, the fact that he missed you, the fact that he couldn’t even show you that he cared without being afraid of pushing you away. Also, the manner in which you had acted earlier around your friends probably didn’t help his case at all.
That was why you were so insecure, he realized: because, yeah, you were fine with public spaces as long as they were mostly empty, as long as no one you knew could find out about the two of you. And now, even with a locked door and basically no way to be discovered amongst a sea of intoxicated strangers, you were anxious, thinking that it would all go up in flames.
However, he realized that he didn’t want to discuss any of that. Especially knowing it would lead him nowhere, considering he was still battling against his own incoherent thoughts, trying to make sense of the emotions dancing inside his soul.
“Doesn't matter right now.” His large hand held your face in place, fingers pressing down on your cheeks as he made you stare back at him. Your eyes were wide and expectant, flickering all over his face in a way to try and understand what was happening inside his brain. “All that matters is if you can behave for me tonight.”
You blinked a few times, digesting his words. “I always behave,” you said softly, testing the waters. It had been a long time since he acted like that with you — kind of mean and rough in more ways than one — and it instantly threw gasoline into that bratty flame inside you. “Why do you say that?”
He clicked his tongue. “Not always,” he corrected, apparently not falling for the faux-innocence in your tone. “And I don’t want you talking back.”
You pouted. “Not even a little bit?”
Jungkook pressed a bit harder on your cheeks — it didn’t hurt, but it sent a clear message: you needed to shut the fuck up. “Not even a little bit.”
And, well, you know what they say: if you can't beat them, join them. “Okay,” you agreed. “I can do that, if that’s what you want.”
“Good.” Jungkook got closer, but the grip on your face didn’t subside. His lips were two petals brushing against yours as he spoke up again. “Can I be rough with you, princess?”
Now that was an agenda you could get behind. “Yeah,” you promptly replied. “Want that.”
“That’s my girl,” his tone softened, but his eyes were still malicious, watching the oscillation of your own as he finally let go of your face. His gaze burned on your skin, following the dainty movement of your tongue as you wetted your lips. “So perfect for me.”
Before you could respond, his lips were on yours once more, swallowing your moans when he eagerly pressed himself down on you, rolling his hips against your center. Even through the fabric of his pants, you could feel how hard his cock was, brushing between your folds as his tongue explored your mouth. He was kissing you fast, thoughtlessly; leaving you gasping for air as he grunted, before moving away like nothing had happened.
Jungkook looked down at you as if he was reading every line in your face, watching closely for any reaction that would displease him. In some strange, masochist way, you liked when he got like that — it always left you tipping around the edge of nervousness and anticipation, unaware of what he would do next. More often than not, you couldn’t really predict it.
That time, it wasn’t any different. His hand rapidly returned to your jaw, thumb caressing your lips. “Open.” He commanded. You did as he told you to, heartbeat quickening when you realized what he was about to do. Jungkook leaned forward and allowed for a glob of saliva to drip down your mouth, a satisfied hum leaving his throat as you closed your mouth. The whole situation left you just as confused as aroused. “Swallow.” He told you. Once again, you followed his orders. “That’s it. What do we say?”
You blinked up at him, rummaging around your head for the answer that he wanted. “Thank you?” you tried, unsure.
Jungkook smirked down at you, leaning in to trap your lips in his. He inserted his tongue inside your mouth straight away, drowning out your whimpers. It was a messy kiss, one that left you struggling as you tried to follow his pace, just barely managing before he was deepening it, sucking the air away from your lungs. By the time that he moved back, your heart was drumming, beating like a caged bird against your ribs. “You’re lucky you’re a fast learner,” he said. “Want you to do something else for me.”
You didn’t hesitate. “Anything.”
“Dangerous thing to say,” he teased, but didn’t seem to dwell in those endless possibilities much further. He had already outlined his plans for the night. “Hands and knees for me, baby.”
He got out of the way so you could get in position, his heat leaving you behind. Eager to please him, you turned your body around and crawled a bit closer to the headboard — which he finally allowed you to do.
Jungkook clicked his tongue, one hand coming down to press onto your upper back. “Lower. Ass up, princess.” He guided you until you had your cheek pressed against the soft white pillows, breasts resting on the mattress. He moved back so he could take a better look at you, the hand that was on your back now sliding up the curve of your spine and resting on your ass. “Perfect. Hold just like that.”
Jungkook started to unbuckle his belt, his tattooed fingers working fast to remove the black leather. Instead of moving on to his pants, though, he slid the object off, measuring it for a second before looking back at you.
“What are you doing?” You asked.
He ignored your question. “Hands behind your back.”
And because the nervousness of being unable to predict his actions got the best of you, you let a stupid joke slip. “Are you going to arrest me, officer?” You smiled.
But your smile didn’t last long. Jungkook’s hand was hitting your ass the next second, earning a soft whine from you. It wasn’t too painful, but it was enough of a warning shot to shut you up straight away. “I said no talking back,” he reminded you, serious as ever. “Hands behind your back.”
It was a very uncomfortable position to have your face pressed down against the pillows, with nothing else to support your upper body, but you followed his command regardless, placing your hands together. You had to bite back a gasp when Jungkook circled your wrists with his belt, moving it around until he was buckling it tightly. He gave it a last pull to make sure it would stay in place, smirking in content as your body followed it, bouncing back a little.
“Too tight?” Jungkook asked carefully. “Tell me if it hurts.”
The thin sides of the harsh leather stung your skin a little, but it wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle. “No, it’s okay,” you told him.
“Good.” He exhaled, stepping out of the bed. “Eyes on me. And don’t move.”
Obedient, you nodded, watching as he removed his jacket, soon followed by his shirt. Your attention instantly fell to the rise and fall of his toned chest; the beautiful outlines of his muscles standing out against the pale luminescence. When it came to Jungkook, you were a bit perverted: all that you wanted to do was to kiss and bite your way down his body; to lick his abs and tease him until he was gasping under your touches. However, all that you could do was to pathetically fight against the restraints as he continued to strip.
You swallowed dry as his pants were thrown somewhere on the ground, your focus instantly shifting towards the outline of his big, hard cock against his light grey underwear. Jungkook’s hand caressed its way down his abdomen, the ink of his skin contrasting perfectly against the clear shade of his boxers, before his fingers were squeezing his shaft. He sighed at the sensation, thumb started to circle his tip through the fabric, staining it just lightly with his precum. For a second you were hypnotized by his actions, but then he was pulling his underwear down and you snapped back to reality.
The need to ask for him to rush was all-consuming, scorching your insides as Jungkook took his sweet time. You couldn’t bring yourself to do it, though, since he appeared to be deadset on making you drop that spoiled, bratty attitude of yours. Basically, you knew he’d only punish you further by going even slower.
What was left for you to do was to watch as Jungkook started pumping his length, his wrist turning a bit every time he reached the tip. Under the frail light coming from outside, you could see his cock leaking for you, throbbing every time he teased his slit for a second too long. It was torture waiting as he made his way back to the bed, the mattress shifting under his weight as he kneeled behind you.
You flinched when two of his fingers entered you unannounced, but quickly eased into his touch as he started separating them, more worried about stretching you than properly fingering you. Without a single complaint, you waited, quietly crying out his name when he randomly hit a sensitive spot inside your pussy.
“Good girl,” Jungkook praised, apparently at nothing in particular. You liked to believe that it was because he knew how much you were holding back, though, and it filled you up with pride. “Think you’re ready. What do you say?”
You nodded, cheek brushing against the pillow. You could only hope that your makeup wasn’t starting to smear all over it. “Yes, please.”
In return you only received a nonchalant hum, Jungkook’s hand leaving your heat soon after. He had a dangerous expression of focus and tranquility plastered all over his face, his messy dark hair falling over his hooded eyes as he gripped your hips, pulling you towards him. Apparently, though, he wasn’t ready to give you what you wanted just yet.
Your mouth fell open in a silent exclamation when you felt his cock sliding between your folds — so heavy and swollen against your pussy. Behind you, Jungkook’s cool demeanor cracked just slightly, a deep grunt vibrating inside his body. “Shit, look at you, baby. So fucking wet for me, soaking my cock,” he spoke, tentatively rutting his hips. You gasped at the feeling, mindlessly pushing yourself back. “Fuck, what got you so worked up?”
Of course he wanted you to fuel that small ego trip of his, and you were happy to comply. “You did.”
Jungkook was lost in thought, barely catching your response. “Mhm… You don’t always get like this, though,” he said, slowly rolling his center against yours, his length sliding easily between your folds. “Is it the belt?” He asked out of nowhere, a manic look on his face as one hand gripped the strap of leather. “Want me to use it to fuck my cock inside your pussy?”
“Please,” you whimpered, desperate.
“How dirty.” Jungkook chuckled — it was a deep, evil chuckle that left you on edge. He was clearly in a strange mood, that much you could tell, but apparently that was also a sadistic one. “Want me to use your cunt like that, baby? Like it’s a toy for me to fuck?”
“Yes, please,” you whined, a small cry breaking upon your lips as his tip bumped against your clit. You arched your back, trying to push your body towards him, but it was a fruitless endeavor. Jungkook was holding you in place with an iron grip, forcing you to keep his own, sluggish pace. It was what you told him you’d do, though, you said you’d behave for him. “Please just fuck me.”
“Always so impatient,” Jungkook commented, touches of bitterness decorating his tone. Every slow slide of his cock between your folds was a brand new level of hell, your entire body just pleading for more. “Is that all that you’re good for? For taking my cock?”
“Yes,” you were just saying whatever you thought he wanted to hear, your mind hyper-focused on the desire that pumped inside your veins. There was a strong pull on the belt then, a random movement that got you jumping backwards, your eyes fluttering shut as his cock hit hard against your clit. “F-fuck— Only yours.”
A sharp pain spreaded throughout your ass, the result of Jungkook’s palm crashing against the flesh. You whined at the feeling, yet found pleasure within the stinging sensation. “I said eyes on me, ___,” Jungkook reprimanded, a frown decorating his features when you opened them back up. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”
“Sorry,” you keened.
“It’s okay, you’ll learn.” He breathed out, the hand that had just hit you now holding your body down. “Stay still.”
The tip of his cock prodded against your entrance — bumping against it once, twice, before Jungkook finally decided to enter you. He did so extremely slowly, exhaling loudly as his crown slipped inside you, dragging deeper inside your pussy as you moaned and shifted beneath him.
“I said stay still,” he hissed, leaning forwards and pressing his weight down on you.
You nodded, a few chaotic strands of your hair falling over your forehead as he continued to move inside you. Jungkook was so big, long and thick, opening you up and filling you to the brim. “F-Fuck,” you hiccuped, brain almost short-circuting at the feeling. You’d never get used to his size, that you could be certain of. “So deep.”
He only ignored your comment, giving a last, tentative tug on your hips to make sure that he couldn’t go any deeper than that. “You know,” he started, his voice a rough, breathless whisper against your ear, “you make me so fucking confused sometimes.”
Well, that you weren’t expecting. “W-What?”
Jungkook's sigh was shaky as it left him, his fingers digging into your skin. He was holding you in place, soaking his cock in your pussy the way he loved so much, and he was struggling to find the right things to say. “When I have you like this, you get me so confused,” he repeated, “every single time. Just makes me fucking crazy.”
But that didn’t help you at all. “I… I still don’t understand.”
Jungkook smirked and placed a kiss against your shoulder. It was a gentle, controlled action that didn’t match his demeanor. “It’s okay, baby.” He moved away from you, one hand wrapping around the belt. You swallowed hard at the expectation that came from his actions. “I’ll explain it to you.”
Often, he would wait for a bit longer — stay completely still inside you until you were crying, pleading for him to do something — but, that night, it seemed that his patience was running thin. Regardless of his own impatience, however, the first few thrusts that Jungkook gave you were so shallow and slow that he might as well have remained immobile.
Perhaps in a different time he would read the way you tried to push yourself back against his cock and he would be nice enough to give you more. Nevertheless, he was trapped inside his own meditations at that moment, letting his thoughts spill out like venom from his lips. “It’s hilarious, don’t you think? How you got everyone fooled,” there were traces of playfulness in his tone that didn’t match the seriousness of his dark eyes, nor the way his hand tightened around the belt. He wasn’t using it yet, but it was just a matter of time. “Do you think there’s anyone in this place that thinks you’re getting fucked right now? Such a sweet, pure girl, aren’t you? You’d never do that.”
Ah, you recognized that pattern. It hadn’t presented itself for quite some time, but you knew it was just a matter of when those tendencies would leave their hibernation phase and come back to attack you. “Kook, I—“
“Shut up, I'm talking,” he sliced your sentence short. “And you got me fooled too, you know? Got me thinking you were such an angel. Turns out you’re just a slut for my cock. That’s why you make me so fucking confused.” His breathing was getting a bit harsher now, staining his speech with his pleasure as he plunged his cock inside your tight pussy. “You volunteered in a church and let me fuck you while you were in it.” Jungkook chuckled — if at those memories or at your distress, you didn’t know — for sure getting a sick kick out of that power trip. “And how many times did you beg me to let you ride me in my car, hm? Because you’re dirty just like that.”
It had been some time since he acted like that, taking his time to tease you in more ways than one. There was something inherent to his ego that loved doing that to you, loved watching your face unravel into that delicious, lustful mixture of shame and pleasure as he poked that fake good girl act of yours until it was deflating, showing him your real self. Jungkook was swimming in dopamine by the time that you choked out his name, those pretty moans and whines of yours reverberating like a melody inside his skull.
“But I like it like this,” he continued, lost in thought. His thrusts were getting a bit faster now, but not even close to what you needed. “Like when you let me fuck you the way I want; when I use you just like this,” he moaned under his breath. “Like when you choke on my cock. When you beg for me to let you cum, shit,” he cursed. “Makes me wanna fuck you ‘til you’re crying, baby.”
Jungkook adored the lustful mist that covered your eyes, your brain scrambling to say something in return, to beg him to give you more. “K-Kook…”
“Don’t ask, I’m not going faster now,” he interrupted you, his voice a firm and merciless attack. There was no way he didn’t know what he was doing to you, not when you were practically shaking under his body. “But you get what I mean? When I say that you make me so confused.” He breathed out. “Because you’re so sweet, but you’re such a fucking slut too.”
You blinked back the tears, but they still came. “I’m not…”
“No?” Once again, he didn’t let you finish. There was something wicked reverberating in the back of his tone as he leaned in closer to you, his hand pulling on the belt to pull your back towards his front. “Then why did you rush up here when I told you I wanted to fuck you?” He mumbled against your ear, punctuating his sentence with another lethargic roll of his hips. His cock was hitting deep inside you, not letting any spots pass by untouched. But it was so, so slow. You just needed more. “Why are you dripping down my cock like this? You’re so fucking wet, baby, shit.”
“I… I don’t k-know,” you stuttered. It was hard to think in a position like that.
“I think you do,” he corrected. Jungkook pushed you down against the mattress as he moved back; the absence of his warmth stabbing you right in the heart. “What do you think they’d say? All these people in the party; all those friends you care so much about.” He was rough as he yanked on the belt, making your body tilt back, cock sinking inside your pussy. You sobbed at the feeling, every thought departing from your mind as he started to quicken his pace, using his makeshift bondage to pull you back against him. “If they knew you were being fucked like this? So fucking tight and warm around my cock.”
You shook your head, eyes burning as the tears ran down your cheeks, soaking the pillow. You couldn’t handle being edged and, as much as he was giving you something to work with, it simply wasn’t enough. “Please, I don’t know.“
“Think about it, then. And get back to me later.” He smiled at your despair, the neediness of your tone egging him on. Jungkook was talking to you like he was giving you homework, and not like his cock was buried inside your cunt. “You’re gonna make me cum now, okay?”
And maybe there is a heaven above, because your prayers had just been answered. “O-Okay,” you accepted, bracing yourself for what was about to happen.
Jungkook didn’t disappoint. All that he needed were a few instants to set his pace, drilling into you as your body turned into jello beneath him. He was everything you could feel — his hand pulling you back by the belt on your wrists, the grip he had on your waist, the crash of his hips against your ass over and over. It seemed that Jungkook had accumulated all his stamina to surpass that breaking point, and now he was letting it all go as he fucked you hard, fast, just the way he liked it.
The sounds that were coming from him were a lewd symphony, airy moans and rough curses falling on top of each other as his cock continued to split you open. “God, princess. Wanna fuck you forever,” he breathed out, lost in his own thoughts. “Feels so fucking good, baby.”
You sobbed at the feeling, turning your face so you could muffle your loud moans against the pillow. Jungkook didn’t appreciate that one bit, since he was pulling on your hair right after, making you turn your mouth away from the soft fabric.
“No, you’re gonna let me hear you,” he growled. Jungkook was getting lost in the way you felt around him, wrapping around his cock so perfectly that he felt as if he couldn’t even breathe. “God, you feel so fucking tight,” he told you, voice almost silenced by the loud sound of his hips meeting yours. You could only thank the DJ for putting the music so loud, otherwise the noise of the bed hitting the wall would be painfully obvious. “Just sucking me right in, fuck. Gonna make me cum like this.”
Amongst your catastrophic thoughts, you found what you were looking for. “Inside, p-please,” was all that you could ask before another string of whimpers fell from your lips.
His cock throbbed inside you at your request. You knew that he was close and, yet, he wanted to push your limits a bit further. “Ask again and I’ll think about it.” He smiled.
Why he was such a little shit would forever remain a mystery — one that you weren’t trying to crack, at least not at such a critical point of the night. “P-Please, Kook, fill me up,” you stuttered.
“Fuck. That’s my girl,” he moaned, breathless. Jungkook looked down to see the way his cock sunk inside your pussy, your walls sucking him right in, so tight and slippery that he felt as if he couldn’t hold it for much longer. “Gonna give you everything, baby. So fucking good for me.”
It was those pretty sounds you were making — it always were — that pushed him over the edge, his cock throbbing inside you with every new wave of cum that left him. He cursed and grunted at the feeling, fucking you hard as he prolonged his high. Soon enough, though, Jungkook reached his limit, letting go of your wrists so he could lean closer to you. His cock was starting to soften, but it slipped even deeper inside you at the new angle, making you wince.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” he whispered. He knew that you hadn’t cum, but he was more than ready to deal with that. “Baby,” Jungkook called, his voice sounding so spent against your ear. He placed a small kiss on your neck, relishing in the way your pussy clenched around him. You were so sensitive, so responsive. It was so sweet. “Turn around for me.”
You nodded, still overwhelmed. Jungkook moved back and removed his cock from your heat, helping you into that new position.
It took a bit of maneuvering, but soon enough you were laying down on your back, legs spread out and pushed up. “Kook,” you called softly. Jungkook found your teary eyes straight away. “My hands are hurting like this.”
He reached out for one pillow, placing it underneath your ass. The new angle relieved the pressure on your wrists instantly. “Better, baby?”
“Yeah,” you agreed, following his movements as he placed himself between your thighs once more. Apparently you two would end the same way you started — how poetic. “What are you gonna do?”
“What do you think? Gonna clean you up,” Jungkook said, his previous attitude nowhere to be found. His expression was much more tender as he leaned closer to your heat, one hand tentatively brushing up your thigh, and towards your center. “You made such a mess, princess.”
“Me?” You echoed. You wanted to look at him, but the new angle of your hips didn’t allow you to see more than his black hair between your legs. “Your fault.”
He chuckled at that — apparently he didn’t mind your bratty demeanor now. “My fault? How evil of you,” Jungkook teased. Two of his fingers separated your folds, a deep groan resounding inside his chest as he noticed the white liquid dripping out of you. “God, love seeing your pussy filled with my cum.”
You gasped as you felt his digits brushing on your entrance. You were already so sensitive, basically dangling on the edge of your pleasure, and you couldn’t endure any more of his provocations. “Jungkook,” you called,” “please…”
Instead of answering you right away, he tilted his head to the side and pressed a kiss against your skin. He hummed against your thigh, tongue coming out to lick it. He was sucking hickeys onto your flesh, marking his way up towards your pussy as you trembled underneath his touches. “I’m right here.” His fingers sunk inside you, pushing his cum back in and feeling as your walls fluttered around them. Jungkook knew your body like the back of his hand, wasting no time before curling them up in the way he knew you loved it. “That’s it,” he said as you moaned. “Be loud for me.”
“I want your mouth, please,” you cried out.
“Anything you want, baby,” he agreed, moving towards your center. His fingers were still pumping in and out of you when he leaned in and licked your clit, earning a broken sob from your part. “Be a good girl and cum on my tongue for me. Make me proud.”
You nodded eagerly, even if you weren’t completely sure he had seen it. Jungkook was now completely zeroed-in on the sight of your pussy, his pouty lips wrapping around your clit and sucking on it slightly. A sharp, loud moan left you as his tongue prodded out against the sensitive nub, his saliva mixing with your arousal as he played with your clit.
“Oh— Oh my god,” you whined, hands struggling against the belt. You wanted to run your hands through his messy hair, and wanted to pull on it as he ate you out — you knew he liked it just as much when you did that, always moaning after you did so. But there was nothing you could do but be at Jungkook's mercy, following his lethargic pace as his muscle swirled around your bundle of nerves again and again, threatening to unleash the pleasure accumulating inside you. “I’m c-close.”
He moaned against your pussy, removing his fingers from your heat and moving downwards. He had his mouth toying with your entrance soon after, tongue entering you and licking you clean, just like he promised. The sounds you were making were incredibly loud and extremely shameful, making your face heat up as your orgasm floated just beyond your reach.
“J-Jungkook,” you stuttered, hips raising upwards faithlessly. Still, his hand came to keep them in place, pushing your legs up so he could eat you out better. He licked you as if you were his favorite meal, groaning against you as your pussy dripped down his face. All that it took you was one glimpse down at him, combined with the light pressure of his thumb against your clit, to get you unraveling on his tongue, a final wave of arousal gushing out of you. “Fuck, Jungkook— fuck, fuck…”
During times like those, Jungkook was patient, letting you ride out your high for as long as you needed, humping his face as you called out his name, until you were spent. He groaned when you started wincing away from his touches, sinking into your taste and giving you a few final licks before stopping.
He raised his head. “Back to me, baby,” he requested.
You were trembling a little, body still on edge as he swirled you around to untie you. You sighed in relief as he removed the belt from your wrists, watching as thin lines appeared on your skin. Luckily, it wasn’t noticeable. “Was I good?" You asked, turning around so you could lay on your back once again.
Jungkook smiled at the dazed, fucked-out look you presented him; the airiness of your tone. “Perfect,” he answered, one hand cupping your cheek, “my girl’s always perfect.”
He pulled you into another kiss — a much more gentle one this time, much slower. You sighed, soaking in the way his tongue caressed yours; his nose just slightly bumping into yours as he leaned his head to the side. Jungkook’s fingers were tender against your skin, brushing your hair back as he laid down next to you, mouths still connected.
It was only after a few more seconds that he pulled away, looking you deep in the eyes. “You okay?”
You nodded, your nose brushing on his from the close proximity. “I’m a bit sore, but I’ll be fine,” you replied. “I can’t believe we’ve done it on someone else’s bed.”
Jungkook scoffed. “Again: we’ve done it in worse places.”
“I know,” you whined, closing your eyes at the memory. Or rather, memories. Plural. You were totally going to hell at that point. “I don’t know if I should be relieved about that or not.”
“Don’t think too much about it,” he said, stealing another small kiss from your lips before placing his face on the curve of your neck. He basked in your warmth, arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you in. “Just enjoy the moment.”
Jungkook was called by you like a bee by the most beautiful flower in the garden, his muscles relaxing as your fingers played with the soft curls of his hair. You sighed, eyeing the gentle movements of your hand on his scalp. “Wanna tell me what got you so mad now?” You tried.
He took some time to clean out his mind, pulling back so he could look at you better. “I wasn’t mad, I was just…” he hesitated for a second. It was one of those moments that he wasn’t sure that you’d like to hear the complete truth, so he settled for asking back something that had been corroding his insides for a while now. “Can you tell me something? And be honest about it.”
You agreed, taking the hand that was playing with his hair to brush his cheek. “Sure, what is it?”
If he thought that approaching you was difficult, it simply could not compare to the Herculean task that was to speak his worries out loud. It was as if part of him didn’t want to know the answer, as if that could unlock too many possibilities for him to deal with. Yet, against the heaviness that expanded inside his chest, Jungkook managed to ask you, “Have you been seeing anyone else?”
His question came out as a low mumble, words slurred together. There was a second of silence before you found your voice. “No… I only went out on a few dates with Jimin, but it was just, like, a week-long thing. And that was some time ago,” you said.
Jungkook nodded. “Yeah, I remember that.”
“And you?” you asked back.
“Have you been seeing anyone else?”
“Ah.” He paused. “No, haven’t been with anyone else in some time.”
It was your turn to fight through the hesitation, against all the demons inside your head begging you to let that subject evaporate, to turn into nothing before it held the power to hurt you. “Why… Why do you ask?”
There was no change in his expression, so you had absolutely no clue what was going on behind his solemn stare. “I was just thinking about it,” he responded. “No particular reason.”
“Jungkook,” you reprimanded, “don’t bullshit me.”
He sighed, allowing for his gaze to navigate around the room — anywhere but you. “Okay, if that’s what you want,” he accepted. His focus had now shifted to the way his hand was caressing your waist, a thoughtless, automatic action he had grown so used to. “This might sound stupid, but I don’t want you see you with anyone else.”
It took you one long, nightmarish moment to find your voice, one in which Jungkook was sure he had fucked up big time. He couldn’t even look you in the eyes, but he felt the way your body grew tense underneath his fingertips. “Jeon Jungkook,” you spoke slowly, but there was a blissful sound to your voice that relaxed him instantly. “Are you jealous?”
He shrugged, speaking under his breath. “Maybe I am.”
Against all odds, you pinched his cheek. That got him looking at you with sheer confusion — you guessed that had never happened before, considering that he looked as docile as a starving wolf. “Aw, you can be cute when you want to, who would’ve guessed?” You teased. “Guess we’ve been kind of going exclusive for a while, though. So there’s nothing to worry about.”
Jungkook nodded. He liked the sound of that. “Guess we have.”
You smiled. “Sounds kinda weird, doesn’t it? How we’ve gotten to this point.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “But it’s a nice weird.”
“I think so too,” you told him.
Jungkook sighed and leaned in, putting his face between your chin and your breasts. When he spoke up again, his voice came out muffled on your skin, vibrating against your clavicles. “Wish I could see you more, though,” he admitted.
“Yeah, that sucks. I wish so too.” You exhaled heavily, searching around your skull for any miraculous way to solve that situation. There was nothing, sadly. “We’ll figure something out, we always do. Sure you don’t wanna get back into immuno?”
“Do you hate me that much?” He laughed. “No, one semester was more than enough. I’ve paid for all my sins at this point.”
“I seriously doubt that.” You sensed his body relax against yours as your fingers continued to play with his hair. “You had already started a second one, though.”
He scoffed. “Yeah, that’s because my tutor is kind of a hottie and I needed an excuse to be around her,” Jungkook told you, his inked hand still tracing soft circles on your skin. There was a faint booming of the party beyond those walls, mixed with the ebullient chatter of a hundred strangers, but he was all that you could focus on. “But don’t tell her I said that.”
“Your secret is safe with me,” you agreed. After a second of silence, you spoke up again. “I think we should probably get going, by the way. It’s late and Yongsun will start to worry.”
Jungkook nodded even if, when he pulled back, he appeared to be extremely disappointed at the idea. “Yep, gotta pay her back for giving you that dress,” he said. “You want a ride home? I haven’t been drinking.”
You raised your eyebrows. “That’s news.”
“You arrived before I got the chance to,” he explained.
“Now that makes more sense,” you recognized. Jungkook in a social situation not drinking? You should call someone to investigate that. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea, though. Haven’t we done enough risky business for the night?”
Luckily, Jungkook had already predicted that exact argument. “It’s not gonna be suspicious, and I don’t want you getting an Uber alone so late.”
“Aw. Look at you being all worried about me,” you joked, reaching out to pinch his cheek again. This time, however, Jungkook was faster, holding your wrist in place.
“Don’t,” he warned, letting your hand go. “You’re gonna make me change my mind if you keep that sappy shit up.”
“Doubt it,” you teased, leaning in to place a kiss against his lips. Jungkook tried to follow your touch, but you had already pulled back so you could speak. “You’re right, though. I’ll accept your offer.”
“What an honor,” he said, monotone.
“I know it is,” you told him. Jungkook took his chance and nuzzled his face closer, his nose hitting yours just slightly. “We should get dressed now.”
“Hmmm… yeah, we probably should…” he trailed off, one hand resting on the nape of your neck. His dark eyes were zeroed in on your lips, a hazy cloud of desire over them. “Just one more kiss.”
You laughed. “Fine. One more.”
If you were (un)lucky enough, there was a lot that could happen in one single night. And, apparently, that was precisely what the universe had in store for you.
After definitely more than one kiss, the two of you agreed to meet each other downstairs, following the same plan as before — you’d leave first, and Jungkook would wait a few minutes before going to the living room. Everything seemed to be working fine — as promised, no one was even acknowledging your presence, much more interested in the absurd story that Hoseok was yelling about — and the two of you were almost out the front door when it happened.
“Fucking finally!” Taehyung raised his arms aggressively, scaring a girl that was walking nearby and almost knocking her cup over. Still, he seemed to be completely ignorant to it as he cheerfully walked towards you two, his attention stuck on Jungkook. “I’ve been searching for you everywhere, man! What did you get yourself into?”
Jungkook held out one hand, not allowing his friend to come any closer to the two of you. “Dude, you stink,” he complained, nose scrunching up. In fact, Taehyung looked and smelled as if he had decided to dumpster dive for the night. You had no idea what happened at Hoseok’s parties and, at that point, you were afraid to find out. “Back the fuck off.”
Taehyung pointed at him, narrowing his eyes. He was so clearly (and comically) drunk that for a second you thought he was acting. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the case. “You should be more polite, Jeon, I pay for the roof over your head,” he threatened. Jungkook was about to say something in return when Taehyung noticed your presence, a ditzy, uneven smile stretching over his features. “___! Hey! What’s good? What are you doing at a party?”
You limited yourself to a polite smile in return. “How are you, Taehyung?” you asked. “I’m just leaving, actually.”
“I’m giving her a ride,” Jungkook started, “It’s too late and—“
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He waved one hand in front of him, disregarding his explanation. “I’m riding shotgun. Called it.”
You let Jungkook and Taehyung lead the way towards the car, feeling strangely small underneath the enormous expanse of the night sky. The world outside Hoseok’s house was a quiet and desolate one, barely allowing for the sounds of your steps to be heard past the cool nocturnal breeze. If there was something you knew about Jungkook was that there were no moments of peace when you were with him, so the fact that you had such a tranquil instant for yourself probably wasn’t a good thing.
As the car doors were shut and the three of you were inside the moving vehicle, you couldn’t help but feel like you had a grenade in your lap, just waiting to explode. Jungkook had mentioned that Taehyung not only had his suspicions as he was actively searching for answers — unlike your friends, that limited themselves to small and fruitless sessions of interrogation, Taehyung had taken upon himself to solve that mystery. By some divine miracle, he apparently hadn’t asked any of your friends, since you were pretty sure that Yongsun would be quick to connect the dots.
But now that you were trapped in a car with him, drunk or not, the stakes seemed to be dangerously high.
“Soooo, ____.” He slapped Jungkook’s shoulder twice, ignoring the string of curses that left him. “How has it been teaching good old JK here?”
“Not as bad as most people would think.” You smiled, hoping that there were no nervous edges in your voice. It was funny to see Taehyung so drunk: he was always so serious during your ethics classes, it was an odd contrast. “He’s not terrible.”
Taehyung laughed and lightly punched him on the shoulder. Jungkook barely reacted, instead focusing on the road that expanded before him. “Look at that, that’s a first,” he teased. “Did someone finally manage to tame you?”
“Shut up, dude. You don’t pay for my gas and I won’t hesitate to kick you out of this car,” Jungkook warned.
Taehyung looked back at you. “Are you sure he isn’t that bad?”
“He has his moments, but I can deal with it.” You stood your ground, but quickly switched the subject. “But what’s going on with you, Taehyung? Haven’t talked to you in some time.”
You two never really talked, if you were to be honest, but even your shallow, small talk before class had melted away. You’d blame that on yourself, since you were taking that extra time to review for your upcoming exams, and there were just other people in class that you were closer to (and would rather talk to). Also, well, since you found out that he lived with Jungkook, you thought it would be wiser to keep your distance.
“Oh, yeah, lots of tests, lots of projects.” He waved, clearly disregarding those things. “Drinking to forget most of them.”
You nodded. “Makes sense, my friend was in the same situation and—“
“By the way!” Taehyung interrupted you with a high-pitched scream, almost choking himself with his seatbelt when he turned back to look at you. Your mouth hung open for a second, unsure of what to do. “You can help me with something.”
It took you an instant of silence to recover from that. “With... what?” You hesitated.
He smiled widely, turning back around. You found Jungkook’s gaze in the mirror, and the frown on his face didn’t let you relax. “You see, I’ve been… investigating something, you could say.” Taehyung cleared his throat. You had no idea what happened inside his mind when he was drunk, but you’d guess that he was living his CSI fantasy a bit too hard. “I’m a pre-law student, love crimes, you know the deal. So I wanted to use my knowledge for good.”
“Okay…? But I don’t know how I’d be able to help you investigate anything,” you told him, measuring your words. You felt as if there was electricity buzzing inside the car, sending small shocks of anticipation throughout your skin. Part of you thought that it was better to ask — it would be more suspicious not to. “What is it, by the way?”
Taehyung turned back around, locking eyes with you. “I’m trying to figure out who Jungkook has been sleeping with.”
You almost choked on your own saliva — you didn’t expect him to be that direct. But that was your own innocence getting in your way, considering Taehyung’s track record of being completely shameless. “I’m sorry?” You asked.
Thankfully, Taehyung didn’t notice anything strange about your shock. “Right? He has this secret date or whatever that completely fucks him up.” He laughed, reaching out one hand to touch Jungkook’s shoulder. The driver shifted on his seat, clearly uncomfortable. “The guy here is all smiles and fluffy shit when he comes back and—“
He groaned. “Taehyung, shut the fuck up, I swear to god I’ll knock you out.”
“—And I just need to know who’s doing that to him, you know?” He completed, face completely serene as if he wasn’t just threatened with physical violence.
You blinked once, twice, trying to figure out what to say. Moments like those made you wish you were playing a game and that dialogue options would simply appear in front of you. “And you want my help with what?” Was what you chose to go for.
Taehyung looked at you like you were an idiot. “That’s obvious. Do you know who it could be? I asked like everyone on campus and no one has a clue.”
“Everyone?” You echoed, heartbeat quickening.
“Practically everyone.” He shrugged. “By the way, your friend Jisoo is very rude.”
Jungkook scoffed. “You’re telling me.”
“You asked Jisoo?” you asked before you could hold back, a blanket of panic softly falling over you. That couldn’t be good. If she didn’t notice a pattern already, it was just a matter of time before she did. You could only pray that her denial was stronger. “So do you, like, have any leads?”
“I might be onto something.” Taehyung looked out of the window, following the movement of the light poles next to the car. Thankfully you had already entered your neighborhood, because you didn’t think you’d be able to handle much more of that before letting something slip. It wasn’t even as if Taehyung was some interrogation mastermind, you were just under pressure and he was being far too intense about it. “Maybe you could help.”
“I don’t know anything, sorry,” you told him, firm. You met Jungkook’s eyes in the rearview mirror again, and you didn’t understand the emotion you saw in them. You looked away. “Jungkook and I don’t really discuss these kinds of things. I’m just tutoring him — or, rather, was. We don’t talk that much anymore.”
Jungkook decided to step in and help you. “Yeah, Taehyung, give it a break. You’re drunk.”
“Moderately tipsy.” He raised one finger, staring Jungkook down for a second before turning around. You had reached the very obvious conclusion that Taehyung was a complete nuisance when it came to alcohol. “Will you tell me if you find something out?”
“I don’t think it’s very healthy to be this obsessed with your friend’s sex life,” you deflected.
He cocked his head to the side. “It’s more than his sex life, obviously,” he told you, stealing a glimpse at his friend. The yellow lights of the street melted over Jungkook’s features, deepening his frown even further. “Some things are just so crazy that we can’t let it pass. I would never guess that I’d live long enough to see Jungkook here being so wh—“
“We’re here,” Jungkook said. The car abruptly slowed down, with him pressing down on the breaks a little too suddenly — mostly because he had been distracted and almost drove past your apartment building. Your body leaned forwards, the seatbelt pressing on your chest as the vehicle finally stopped.
“I almost hit my head, dude, fuck,” Taehyung complained.
Jungkook didn’t hesitate. “I wished you would, I’ll try harder next time,” he told him before turning around to meet your gaze. “You good?”
You could see it in his expression that he wasn’t just asking about the sudden break, but also about the strange conversation you had been thrown in. “I’m fine, thanks for the ride.” You removed your seatbelt, rushing to open the door. The cold breeze of the night swiftly expanded inside the vehicle, the vague scent of petrichor filling your nose. “It was nice seeing you guys.”
“Likewise.” Taehyung nodded, following you with his eyes as you stepped out of the car. “See you! Let me know if you find something.”
“Sure,” you could only agree, because you couldn’t take any more of his insistence. “Bye, Taehyung.” You leaned down so you could look past his window. “Bye, Jungkook.”
Jungkook raised his hand. “Bye.”
Taehyung waited until you were too far away from the car to be able to listen, turning around with a silly smile on his face. “She’s nice, I get why you liked tutoring so much.”
Which might have been the last drop that made Jungkook’s cup overflow. “Man, you’re such a fucking dumbass,” he cursed, staring his roomate down. “How fucking bored so you have to be to keep asking this shit to everyone? Can’t you see that you’re making everyone uncomfortable as fuck?”
His friend, however, remained completely unaffected. “This could be avoided if you just told me who it is. It’s all your fault, honestly.”
Jungkook shook his head. “Why do you gaslight people when you’re drunk, dude? Go to therapy.”
Taehyung crossed his arms. “Don’t change the subject.”
But Jungkook wasn’t planning on discussing any subject at all, instead letting his focus gravitate towards you.
It seemed as if Jisoo was right about one thing: what Jungkook wanted to happen, would happen. The good, the bad, and the ugly — and, like some Monkey’s Paw situation, he got his wish granted. Someone was about to find out about your little secret.
Taehyung shifted around on his seat, annoyed that the car hadn’t continued to move. He glanced at Jungkook, who was leaning over the wheel and looking at you through the passenger’s window. Taehyung traced after his stare and then returned to his friend. “So, what are you waiting for?” He asked. “I wanna get home already, I’m super hungry.”
“Yeah, yeah, chill,” Jungkook disregarded. When the door to the building closed behind you, he leaned back and found Taehyung’s inquisitive gaze dancing around his features. “Just checking if she’s getting in safe.”
Taehyung scoffed. “Since when do you worry about something like that?” He crossed his arms. A shadow of doubt crossed his face as the car pulled away from the sidewalk. “And how do you know where she lives?”
Jungkook shrugged. “She told me back at the party.”
“I never heard her say that,” he said.
He didn’t bat an eye. “It was before we even found you.”
But Taehyung wasn’t relenting. “Yeah, but you never asked for directions during the time you were driving, like you already knew the way.” He turned around on his seat and looked past the window, as if there was some secret message written in the night sky. Something was close to clicking inside his head — he was too intoxicated to know what exactly, but he knew there was something. “Have you been here before?”
“No, dude, I already said that ___ told me where she lives and how to get here.” Jungkook rolled his eyes. The way he was gripping tightly to the wheel betrayed his faux-nonchalance, but Taehyung wasn’t paying attention to any of that. “Can you let that go? Jesus.”
And probably if Taehyung was sober, he would have done just that. But the fact that he was intoxicated out of his mind probably helped the opening of his third eye — and, suddenly, he saw the truth: the dark clouds dissipating and shedding a deep, incontestable light onto that entire situation.
His first words came out at a low volume, whispered and measured as if he couldn’t understand them for a moment, “No... No fucking way.” Taehyung took one hand to his mouth as the puzzle pieces fell into place inside his brain. When he spoke up again, he was practically yelling. “No! What the fuck?! No! Oh my fucking god?”
Jungkook groaned, trying to understand what his friend was even going on about. Part of him already grasped it, he was just in denial. “Shut up, dude, you’re so loud,” he complained.
However, his roommate wasn’t in the right mindspace to listen to the voice of reason. Taehyung continued to shift around for a bit, his widened eyes roaming over the street that stretched before the two of them; his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. He was trying to make sense of his eureka moment, which wasn’t half as glamorous as the TV shows made it out to be. “That’s the girl?” He finally got that question out, and it hit him like a frying pan directly to the face. Taehyung was so deep in his own spiral that he didn’t even notice the way Jungkook’s jaw clenched, his fingers loosening their grip on the wheel. “That’s the— Open the window, I’m gonna puke.”
“You’re the most exaggerated person I know,” Jungkook mumbled, but still slid down the window. Just to be sure. “Shut up. That’s not her.”
Taehyung gasped at that, inhaling the gelid nocturnal air. Not even that seemed to calm him down, though. “It is! You’re a terrible liar! What the fuck?!” He pointed at Jungkook as the car slowed down, pausing at a stop light. “Since when?”
The breaks screeched a little before the vehicle stopped moving, and even that sound left Jungkook on edge. The traffic lights above him were mocking him, the bright red dot showing him that he was just as trapped as he felt. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he told him.
Problem was: Jungkook really wasn’t that good of a liar, especially when it involved Taehyung. After so many years of friendship, the other saw right through him.
All that Taehyung needed was to narrow his eyes and repeat himself — this time in a much calmer, lower volume. “Since when?”
And Jungkook folded. “I… don’t know the exact time. It’s been over six months.”
The volume of his voice shot back up instantly. “Over six— You have to be kidding me!” Taehyung’s synapses were working as if he had just injected fifteen liters of caffeine directly inside his veins; a crazy look plastered all over his face and a minor twitch on one of his eyelids. He wasn’t sober enough to control himself, so his thoughts just came falling off his mouth with no coherency. “___?! How the— How the fuck? Why? What the—“
“You can’t tell anyone about it,” Jungkook interrupted. He couldn’t even look at him, he was feeling awful — not because he cared about it, but because he knew you did. And if you found out that he had shared your secret with someone, well… that could be a big issue.
“How can I not?” Taehyung asked, bewildered. “I’m losing my mind over here, I have to share it with the world.”
“Taehyung. Not. A. Word,” Jungkook stressed, finally meeting his stare. Even drunk, Taehyung could interpret him better than anyone else in the world. “Do you fucking hear me? This isn’t funny, shithead.”
The other man paused for a second, his eyes stuck on his. “Shit, man.” Taehyung breathed out, practically whispering. If he thought his previous eureka moment was hard to deal with, the second one was so unrealistic that he almost started to laugh. “You’re fucking whipped.”
Jungkook turned away. “I’m not.”
“You are!” He insisted, pitch rising back up. As if that entire dialogue wasn’t a roller coaster on itself, his voice was following the same pattern. “And, oh my god, that actually makes so much sense? You would never study so much in your life. I was so stupid not to see the obvious clues before my eyes!” He laughed at that, thinking that he was both the smartest and dumbest man in the world. “That’s so cool. I’m happy that you’re in lo—“
“Shut up.” This time, his voice came out much firmer, frigid as the winds that howled around the neighborhood. The light turned green, and Jungkook didn’t even have the reflex to move straight away. “That’s enough, Taehyung, seriously. I’m not fucking around.”
His serious and controlled tone worked like a tranquilizing dart being shot straight at his roommate — Taehyung knew better than to keep provoking Jungkook when he was showing that cold type of anger. “Sorry, man.” His shoulders fell, all that pump of adrenaline leaving his body as quickly as it had arrived. “I’m just… surprised.”
“Well, yeah.” He pursed his lips, slowly pressing down on the gas pedal. “Can’t say I saw that coming either.”
“Fuck.” Taehyung shook his head as if it would be enough to wake him up from that bizarre dream he was having. “I never thought I’d see you all lovey-dovey and worried like this. It’s kind of adorable, really. You’re down bad, dude.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m not down bad.”
“Jungkook,” Taehyung spoke slowly, as if he was talking to a child. It seemed that the booze shot his superiority complex as high as the moon. “I’ve known you for, what, thirteen years? I know you better than your own mom at this point. Hate to break it to you, man, but you’re as whipped as they come.”
And it hurt to hear that, because Jungkook knew it was true. Perhaps it was time to come to terms with the fact that maybe, just maybe, Jungkook was head over heels for you. He just needed to be sure that you felt the same before he fucked everything up — more than he already did, at that. “Yeah, whatever.” He breathed out. That couldn’t be good. “Just don’t tell anyone or I’ll break your face.”
“I won’t. Promise.” His friend raised his palm in a silent oath, another hand to his heart. Still, Jungkook wasn’t buying it and, if that started to spread, he knew he’d be in deep shit with you. As if Taehyung was reading his thoughts, he said, “But you know you can’t hide this forever, right? Eventually people are going to find out, even if I don’t say a word.”
“Yeah.” Jungkook sighed, unsure if he was talking about the situation, or about that warm, hesitant emotion blossoming like a flower just behind his sternum — which was getting harder and harder to ignore. “Yeah, I know I can’t.”
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teacher! c!technoblade x female! reader
summary; you go to your brother’s conference when your father ‘can’t’. when you meet his teacher, you realize how anxious and awkward he is around you. you find it charming.
content/warnings: mentions of alcohol abuse, teacher! au, schlatt is your father, reader is tubbo’s older sister, reader is also the same age as techno, talk of self-hatred, mentions of arguments, reader has daddy issues, and some swearing. tubbo and tommy are about 7 or 8 in this! badboyhalo and wilbur are here too lol
a/n: if the cc is uncomfortable with me writing and posting this, i will take it down with no question. thank you!
trouvaille; (noun) something lovely discovered by chance.
this wasn’t planned.
you weren’t expecting to go to your little brother’s conference.
your dad was supposed to go, of course, but he reeked of booze and sweat.
it was about 2:00 AM when your dad came home last night (well, morning). he walked into your room, and the smell of hard alcohol woke you. you could tell it was your dad.
you remember a time like this, when tubbo was a baby and you were 13. he’d come home late, as always, after he got drunk at a nearby bar. your uncle, as you and tubbo call him, quackity, watched you both as your father busied himself. quackity would always play games with you, make sure tubbo was fed, and even bought you ice cream after dinner.
your dad sucked at being a dad.
before tubbo came along, you never saw your dad most of the time. he was always there for tubbo. not for you. your aunt, as you like to call her, puffy, took care of you. she didn’t like your father, but she loved you. one night, you were crying in her arms, about your dad. you clung onto her red jacket as you sobbed, saying “dad doesn’t love me! he hates me! he wants me to leave!” puffy held you tightly, shushing you as you wept. you remember what she said to you;
“even though you think your dad hates you, he doesn’t. he adores you. he always talks about you. he always thinks about you. he just,” puffy pauses, thinking about what she wants to say. “he just- doesn’t know how to show his emotions. just remember, y/n, he loves you so so much.” she pokes your nose, making you giggle.
sucks that she doesn’t come around anymore.
you squinted at him, since he left the hallway light on and kept your door wide open. he was sitting at the edge of your bed, wiping his hands on his slacks.
“dad?” you whispered, and in response all you got was a grunt. you sat up, looking at him now fully awake.
he was gross. he looked gross.
you could see sweat stains around his armpits and neck, his hair looked greasy, his tie he wore to work the day before was untied around his neck, and his jacket was gone. also to mention, he was still holding a half empty bottle of beer.
“jesus, dad, go take a shower.” you said dryly, laying back down on your bed and closing your eyes. you heard him laugh. “i will later.” he slurred. “but, y/n,” he started, which caught your attention, since he never used your first name. it was always gross baby nicknames. “can you go to tubbo’s conference tomorrow? tiny favor, for your pops? i have to stay at the office late.” he said, looking at you. you narrowed your eyebrows at him.
“um, i have work tomorrow, too, yknow. so i can’t, make quackity do it or something.” you stated. you thought that was that. you thought that was the conversation.
but, alas, it wasn’t.
your dad’s mood changed quite quickly. to a dorky father, to a mad one. you didn’t really pay attention to the yelling, since you were so used to it. plus, it only happened when he was drunk.
but here you are, holding your little brother’s hand, standing outside his elementary school. tubbo looked quite happy, since his school was his happy place. his oversized sweater you gave him made him have sweater paws, which was super cute. he was wearing short khakis, his legs covered in bruises and hello kitty band-aids.
he picked out the band-aids.
“you ready, tubs?” you asked the kid, who was basically bouncing up and down. “yeah! but can we go to the book fair first? i’m supposed to meet tommy there!” the 3rd grader said. you laughed as you nodded, which caused the boy to run into the school. “tubbo, slow down!”
he didn’t. which caused him to fall down the stairs to the school library, but got right back up again, like nothing happened. you gasped loudly, “tubbo! are you okay?”
“oh, tubbo, no running, please! you’ll run into something!” a soft voice said, which calmed your heart a bit. you entered the small library, which was filled with cases and cases of books. there was a little stand to the side, which had bookmarks, pencils, pens, and cute erasers. your eyes were caught onto a cute pink i-phone eraser, which brought you back when you had one.
“hello, miss! are you tubbo’s mother?” the soft voice spoke.
you looked over your shoulder to see a man behind a plastic fold-up table. on top of the table was what seemed to be a make-shift wallet to put money in, and a tiny notebook. you looked up at the soft british voice, and saw a tall man who was wearing a dull yellow sweater, a burgundy beanie, and pretty circle glasses. some of his curly hair was sticking out of the side of his beanie, folding over his forehead and into his brown eyes.
you laughed nervously, “no, i’m, uh, his sister.”
you could hear him gasp, which made you giggle slightly. “i’m so sorry! i just thought- there’s usually a man who brings him to these book fairs, he reeks of alcohol all the time,” he blurts. “is he your dad? the- the alcohol smelling man.”
you noticed how much he used his hands while he talked, which was very intriguing. before you could answer, he yells at someone behind you.
“tommy! if you want to buy something, buy it! i gave you money!” the beanie wearing man sighs, “my brother and your brother are best friends, did you know? he talks about tubbo so much, it’s annoying.” he smiles up at you, “anyways, i’m wilbur. i’m the librarian here!”
you felt like you were being blinded by his smile; he reminded you of a big ball of sunshine. fitting for a librarian, you thought. he also is very distracted by everything, which does not fit a librarian.
“hi, wilbur, i’m y/n. and yes, the alcohol smelling man is my father, sadly.” you chuckle anxiously, looking into wilbur’s shining brown eyes.
“it’s nice to meet you, y/n!” he says, raising one of his hands to wave at you. “oh yeah! is tubbo here for a conference?” he asks, his head tilted slightly.
“yeah, i just don’t know where his teachers classroom is.” you look behind your shoulder, trying to find your brother. after looking across the library a bit, you finally find him. he was sitting at one of the small tables, across from who you assume is tommy. you watch as tubbo laughs, and you hear tommy laugh along with him.
“um, y/n? when is tubbos conference?” wilbur asked, which made you stop looking at the adorable pair across the library. “um, my dad said around 7:30. i think.” you said, looking at wilbur.
“y/n- it’s- its 7:20.” wilbur laughed nervously.
“oh sh-” you stopped mid sentence as wilbur gave you a look a mother would give to her teenage son, and continued on a family friendly route. “-shooot! tubbo, say goodbye to tommy. we gotta go!” you yelled, which caused wilbur to shush you. “sorry wil, in a hurry here!”
tubbo whined as you gave him a look, and ran right over to you. “sorry, y/n.” he whispered. tubbo looked over at tommy, waving bye, and ran up the stairs.
you ran after him.
“tubbos teachers room is b142! be careful running you two!” he laughs, “well they sure are siblings.”
as you ran in the halls, trying to catch up to your brother, a teacher stopped you and tubbo. tubbo stopped in front of a very tall man, who had a red and black cloak on, and a checkered bandana around his neck. speaking of neck, he looked like a ghost, his skin looked translucent. it wasn’t a white color like traditional ghosts, it was a dark grey, black almost. his eyes were bright white, though, and you could see his sharp teeth through his thin lips. by what you could tell, he didn’t have any hair.
“hi mr. halo! we’re just trying to go to mr. blade’s room!” he said excitedly.
this mr. halo fella, had a hand on his hip. he looked stern. he also looked like a ghost who was homeless. “tubbo, i told you earlier during school, no running the halls!” halo shook his finger at tubbo, who murmured a ‘sorry mr. halo.’ mr. halo then looked at you, “you should know better, you’re what? 20?” his bored look turned into an amused one, a bright smile sat on his face.
jesus, is everyone in this school a big ball of sunshine?
“i’m just joking!” his hand moved forward, making it seem like he was going for a hand shake. “i’m mr. halo, like tubbo said, but you could call be bad if you want.” he says, his hand still in between the two of you, waiting for you to accept the friendly handshake. which, you did. “i’m y/n, uh, tubbo’s sister.” you shook his hand twice, and pulled away. his eyes widened when you said that, which made you suddenly anxious.
“i thought you were his mom! jeez, that is so rude of me,” he smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand softly as he chuckled.
did you really look older than you are?
“anyways, i’m tubbo’s gym teacher.” bad says, ruffling your brother’s hair. “he’s a very good kid, very nice. he’s just so energetic. he tires me out after every class i have with him.” he smiles down at tubbo, looks up at you, then back to tubbo. “you remember where mr. blade’s room is, bud?” bad asks, and tubbo nods in reply.
“c’mon sis! we might be late!” your brother almost yells. you nod towards him, then look back up to mr. halo. “it was nice meeting you, bad. thank you for teaching him well.” you smile, and he smiles back. “it was nice meeting you too, miss y/n. thank you for being such a good sister.” he chuckles as he waves, then walking down the hall away from you and tubbo.
“alright, bubs, let’s go to your homeroom.” you walk up to the smaller boy, grasping his hand. you both walk the rest of the way as tubbo points out some of his artwork near his teacher’s room. it was messy, but really cute. you could easily tell it was tubbo’s without looking at the signature in the bottom right corner.
“well, here it is!” tubbo stands in front of a brown wooden door, which had scratches here and there. the rest of the doors in the building were polished and clean, this one seemed old and cracked. hopefully his teacher wasn’t an old rude man, like your 3rd grade teacher was. you watched as your little brother opened the squeaky sounding door and silently as he could. you held it open for him as he walked in, and then closed it once you got inside.
right away, you noticed how cold it was. maybe this guy was too warm during the spring, you thought. then, you noticed the décor. it looked like this guy was very interested in inspirational quotes, since they were plastered everywhere around the classroom. big white letters in front of a orange sunset, or a calming waterfall. there was also a poorly drawn family portrait near his desk, which had four people on it. you barely noticed the little note on the bottom, which read; “my family!!!!!!!!” with a big heart next to it. you thought it was very cute, a man having his kid’s or little brother’s drawing near him at all times.
you saw tubbo sit on one of the chairs in front of his teacher’s desk, bouncing in place.
his teacher looked up from a paper he was writing on, glancing at the boy.
“oh, hello, tubbo.”
damn, your brother’s teacher’s voice is nice. he also looked nice. you saw on the top of his hair was a bright pink color, even though the rest of his hair was a dark brown. is his natural hair color pink?
speaking of hair, it was unbelievably long, even though it was in a bun. his eyes are a nice shade of brown, though they look fake. did this guy just change his appearance just to be a 3rd grade teacher? you had so many questions. there were a set of black rectangle glasses sitting on his nose. you felt like a creep when you looked at his mouth, noticing a set of tusks sitting on his upper lip. he was wearing a nice white button up, under a tan vest. the sleeves of the shirt were pushed up by his elbows, revealing the scars on his forearms. you could see a gold necklace around his neck, traveling under his shirt.
he sure was different. but, hey, he was extremely attractive.
tubbo’s teacher then glanced at you, raising an eyebrow slightly.
“and, uh, hi lady.”
damn, he’s also awkward.
it’s like a women's presence made him anxious.
which, it did. you were gorgeous. his normal attitude changed to an anxious one. he could hear the voices in his head start up already; feeding him ridiculous names and not so nice words. sure, he’s calm, but he doesn’t feel calm. not at all.
“hi, i’m y/n, i’m tubbo’s sister.” you announce, sitting down next your brother. his teacher nods at you as a greeting, which you found odd, since he was a teacher after all. you never saw that from a teacher. especially from the other teachers you met earlier.
“i’m mr. blade, uh, hm,” he starts, “i don’t have much to say about tubbo. he’s a nice kid, just a little crazy at times.” he chuckles. “he does well on tests, does well payin’ attention in class, yknow, just a good kid. a good student.” it was a good thing to mention he wasn’t looking at the two of you, he was just writing down notes. you looked at his hand that was writing, which had gold rings clinging onto his thumb, ring finger and pointer finger. on his other hand, was a single ring placed on his thumb. it had a shining ruby gem on top, gleaming in the light. his nails were painted pink and black, but really messily. nail polish was on the sides of his fingertips, and on the bottom of his cuticle.
you then looked over at your brother, who was just looking around the room, swinging his little legs. tubbo seemed used to this.
“i- i don’t know how the whole conference thing works, sorry. it’s my first year here.” mr. blade explains. when you looked over at him, he was looking at you. his hands were folded onto the ink filled paper in front of him. you heard the rings clack against each other as he did so. you could see sweat glisten on his forehead, and how his adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed.
“oh no, t-that’s okay, it’s just...” you try and look for the word you’re trying to say, “different. i just, have never seen a conference like this.” you smile shyly, fiddling with your fingers. you watch the teacher nod slowly, pushing strands of hair back behind his ear. “that’s understandable. i just don’t have much to say about sir tubbo, he’s just a great boy, to say the least.” when blade said tubbo’s name made the little boy smile brightly, even though he was fiddling with the pockets on his shorts.
he knew how to multi-task.
the way he spoke about your little brother made your heart fill with warmth. you knew he was a good kid, a good student. you were just forced to come here. you were just a replacement for your drunken father who was probably sleeping on his desk right now.
“thank you, mr. blade. for teaching him,” you murmur, but you knew the teacher in front of you could hear you. you looked down at your lap, feeling suddenly embarrassed as you talked. “tubbo talks about his day after school to me, every single day. i feel, i feel so happy that he finally has a happy place.” you look up to see mr. blade looking down at his folded hands. it almost seemed like he was figuring out a way to talk to you, to speak his mind.
“you can call me techno, if you want.” blade whispered.
“i-i’m sorry, could you repeat that?” you ask, feeling rather sorry that you had to make him repeat what he said.
he blinked at his hands. he blinked again. when he finally came to his senses, he shook his head, looking up at your face.
“ah, nothin’, it was nothin’.” he starts to smile, which turns back into a thin line. right now, you were confused. lost.
“um, yeah, okay. anyways, should we leave? is that all you wanted to say?” you ask. blade shook his head as he turned to grab a small stack of papers. he proceeds to turn towards you again; handing you the stack.
as you look down, you see the amount of fabulous work tubbo did during mr. blade’s class. it brought a smile to your face. it even brought a tear to your eye, almost, though.
“here tubs, could you hold these?” you hand over the papers to tubbo, and tubbo happily accepted them. you saw a look in his eyes, then watched him bounce in place. “can i see tommy again? before we leave? please, y/n!” he begs, which you reply by sighing. “go ahead, just meet me in the front of the school in 20 minutes. and only 20 minutes.” you say sternly while you ruffle his hair. he gives you a thumbs up as he runs out of the room.
he dropped his papers on the chair he was sitting on.
“hmm, hey teach, who made this?” you pointed at the drawing you noticed earlier. mr. blade chuckles at the question.
“my little brother, tommy. uh, tubbo’s best friend, he- he made it years ago, but i still love it, y’know? good memories.” he nods slowly, twisting his ruby gem ring.
“it’s cute.” you say quickly. blade nods again.
it’s like your mood completely changed to awkward, to dorkish.
just like your dad.
it was quiet for a moment. mr. blade wipes the sweat off his forehead, then continues onto his notes. a few more seconds went by, the silence being filled up by the sound of a pen writing, then you finally spoke.
“should i leave?” you say, getting up slowly. blade snaps his head up quickly, clearing his throat. “if you want. but before you go, i would like to ask a question.” he says, standing up.
christ, he’s tall.
he wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans and walks to your side. you noticed how his shirt & vest was tucked into his jeans, which was held in place by a thick black belt.
“um, okay, go ahead, shoot!” you looked up at him, wearing a curious look on your face.
on the outside, he was calm. on the inside, the voices were going crazy. calling him ‘whipped’ and ‘a simp’. some were even laughing at him.
“i don’t- i don’t,” mr. blade clears his throat. “will you give me- shoot.” he starts over again.
“can- can you give me your number?” he says, his voice monotone as ever. his arms were slightly in the air, shaking. you looked down at them, smiling. you took his large hands into your small ones, making his hands calm down.
your gaze was still on his hands, but you heard him choke on air and profusely cough in another direction that wasn’t towards you. you giggled as you calmly stroked his knuckles, trying to soothe his nervousness.
you looked up into his eyes, “of course.” you smiled softly, which made the teacher in front of you almost crumble in your hands.
you let go of his large hands. “could you give me a paper and pencil, teach?” you joke.
‘smile at her, idiot.’
“techno,” he blurts, which you reply by tilting your head. “my name- it’s techno. call me techno.”
a small ‘oh’ came out of your mouth, followed by a small chuckle.
techno nods, grabbing a post-it note and ball point pen off his desk. “um- here.” he says as he hands you the items. you smile at him as a thanks, grabbing the pen and quickly writing down your number.
“hey tech- no..”
blade spins around fast, spotting his twin brother in the doorway. wilbur smirks at him and wiggled his eyebrows, mocking kissy faces at him while pointing at you. techno almost runs over to him, but before he could, he feels a small poke on his arm. you had stuck the post-it on him.
“here you are teach!” you giggle, patting the note. he looks down at you, almost adoringly, smiling at how you giggled at him. techno felt his heart almost burst inside of his chest, seeing the way you smiled up at him. he really hoped you hadn’t seen the way his cheeks flare up in red.
when he looked back to the doorway, wilbur was gone. he could hear himself almost snarl. “nerd...”
“um, so i have to leave sir techno. 20 minutes is up!” you were looking at the clock on your phone, clicking your tongue. techno’s eyes widen; he doesn’t want you to leave. not yet.
so, he did what he thought was best.
to walk you to your car, with your brother there. you weren’t opposed to it, so you accepted his offer. he explained to you that your guys’ meeting was his last of the night, so he might as well. you thought tubbo’s home room teacher was nice; very awkward and sweaty looking, but nice.
on your left was tubbo, holding your hand. on the other was his teacher, silently looking around at the school ground’s scenery. there were nice tulips and other flowers scattered near the entrance, which gave a kind welcoming to someone who was new. tubbo was also currently chatting up a storm, asking different and might you say, personal questions.
“hey, mr. blade?” tubbo says out of the blue, his gaze on the ground below him.
“uh- yeah? what do you need, tubbo?” techno says, his hands stuffed into his jean pockets. he felt and looked cold; the tip of his nose red, you heard him sniffle every few minutes, and his body scrunched over.
you wanted to hold his hand, but you felt too shy about it. you didn’t want to make techno feel uncomfortable, you didn’t want to over step his personal boundaries. so when you felt the urge, you squeezed tubbo’s tiny hand.
you three reached your destination. but, tubbo wasn’t ready to leave yet. he looked up at his teacher, smiling.
“do you have a girlfriend? or a wife?” tubbo asked.
you heard the man to your right choke on his spit, coughing uncontrollably. you snickered at this, seeing a fully grown man flabbergasted at a 8-year-old’s innocent question. it also made you nervous. butterflies filled your stomach, as well as a odd warmth flooding throughout your body. it made you warm, even though it was 20 degrees outside.
as techno was coughing up a lung, tubbo continued. he was confused at his reaction of the question. “i was just thinking about how many rings you have, you married a lot of girls!” he exclaimed excitedly.
you laughed loudly, letting go of your brother’s hand and crouching down to his height.
“tubs, he doesn’t wear rings because he’s married. he wears them because he likes the way they look on him, and i agree. they’re very pretty rings.” you say, looking into the boy’s eyes, then look up to the man behind you, who stopped his coughing session.
the look on him was hilarious; his eyes were wide, showing his brown eyes.
“right, mr. blade? they’re pretty?” you asked, smiling. he clears his throat as he nods quickly, “yeah, uh, ver- very pretty.”
he wasn’t talking about the rings, though.
“and to answer your question, tubbo, i don’t have a-a, girlfriend, or a wife,” techno says as he scratches the back of his neck. you look back to tubbo, who had a mischievous glint in his eyes.
oh, so he planned this, you thought.
“oh! well y/n doesn’t have a boyfriend!”
there it is.
you flicked tubbo’s forehead softly, then whisper, “shush it, schemer.” you stood up from crouching, leaning back to crack your back. “anyways, it was nice meeting you, techno!” you say quickly, trying to get out of the situation as fast as you could.
“yeah, it was nice meeting you too, miss y/n.” techno says, nodding at you.
tubbo frowns at the encounter, opening one of the back car doors and climbing in. a loud slam was heard, which made you jump.
an eery silence came between the two of you again.
techno felt himself gain some confidence by the voices telling him silly things he’d rather not like to repeat outloud. it did help him, though. that’s for sure.
“you don’t have a boyfriend?”
you chuckled nervously, shaking your head. “don’t listen to tubbo, he’s just being a silly kid.” you shake your hand at the man in front of you.
“oh, so you do have a boyfriend?” his lips stuttered upwards into a smirk.
his whole demeanor changed in a snap, making the butterflies in your stomach flutter around. “shucks, i wanted to maybe, just maybe ask you out.” techno says, placing a hand on his hip.
you felt yourself sweat. you felt flustered. his new attitude intimidated you furiously.
tubbo, what did you do?
“um, jeez, what if i maybe said-said yeah? to-to that offer. that you just said.” you squeak out.
you watch technos head nod up and down. “i’ll text you, then?”
you felt your lips turn up into a smile, “y-yeah! uh, it was nice meeting you, really.” you say, walking up to the driver’s side of the car, opening the door.
you hear techno hum, “thank you for coming, y/n.” you nod, but don’t face him. his gaze was so flustering, he’s just too pretty. you climb into your car, and then close the door.
techno watches as you two leave, waving at tubbo.
he sighs while smiling.
while in the car, tubbo smirks in victory. tommy’s plan worked.
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#𝐆𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐑, 𝐎𝐎𝐏𝐒
⤷ pairings : mattsun issei, ushijima wakatoshi, akaashi keiji, oikawa tooru, kuroo tetsurou
⤷ warnings : nsfw 18+. characters are post time skip, suggestive themes but nothing too explicit, some public stuff with ushi and kuroo
⤷ author’s note : here’s part 2 sluts ;) [UNEDITED]
𝐓.𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐎 — you rushed into the elevator, worried and anxious that you were going to be late for work. you wedged yourself in between the packed space and found yourself standing in front of a good looking man. you could feel him looking at you and you caught his eye. you wouldn’t deny that he was goddamn sexy and you may or may not be feeling something right now. as more people tried to squeeze themselves into the vehicle, you eventually got so close to him that you were pressed against his chest. he cleared his throat as pink dusted his cheeks. you glanced down to see a slight bulge in his pants. blinking a few times at his growing erection, you looked up at him and tilted your head in a way of asking if he needed help. he caught on and only gave an embarrassed nod. placing a hand on his nicely ironed pants, you smiled when you saw his adam’s apple bob. you caressed his clothed dick until he had a visible bulge and he was biting his lip. by then, the amount of people were gone and you decided that it was time to take your leave. so you left him, rock hard and chasing after you, a blushing and stuttering mess.
𝐈.𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐍 — friday date night. a must in your relationship. it was a casual night, netflix on in the background and the smell of pizza filled the room. taking a glance at your boyfriend, you thought of something that will liven up his tired expression. picking up your glass of water, you “grabbed it too fast” and spilled it all over his sweats. he didn’t even flinch. turning his head and giving you a pointed look, you blinked your eyes, in an attempt to apologize. he raised a brow and gestured towards his dick. you took the hint and dropped to your knees, grabbing a handful of tissues. dabbing a little too hard, you could feel him grow hard and it took some effort to hide your grin. you could feel a rough tug on the top of your head. he grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled your face, nose touching his erection. “why don’t your put that pretty mouth to use?”
𝐖.𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐀 — you two were attending one of tendou’s spontaneous get-togethers, bundled up in a blanket and listening to tendou babble to semi about the new manga he found. you don’t usually try anything crazy, but today you were feeling mischievous. slowly shifting your foot, making sure neither of the friends noticed, into your boyfriend’s lap. feeling your toes pressed against his thigh made him give you a confused side glance, to which you feigned innocence and returned an equally confused stare. you continued to rub your foot against his cock, him occasionally giving you a warning look, but you ignoring it and pretending you can’t feel his stare drilling into the side of your head. you were starting to feel bad when he didn’t stop you and was already painfully hard. beginning to pull away with a snicker, he stopped you. grabbing your ankle, he pulled you closer and without looking at you, made sure you continued.
𝐊.𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈 — akaashi doesn’t usually get distracted or bored during his meetings but today he just wasn’t feeling it. taking a moment to check his phone, he noticed that you sent him some pictures. curious, he checked the messages, and was glad that he did. you had sent him some pictures of you posing in nothing but a pretty laced top. biting the inside of his cheek, he scrolled through the 14 images you sent, posing to show off your body, and slightly smiled when he read the “oops” at the end of the pictures. you’ve done your job and he couldn’t wait to get home. he gripped his thigh and bounced his leg all trying to hide his growing erection.
𝐓.𝐎𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐖𝐀 — he’s had a long day and he couldn’t wait to get home and just run his hands over your body. he a freak. sighing in relief when he entered your shared apartment, he was quick to look for your figure. he caught you in the kitchen, reaching for something on the top shelf, but he wasn’t paying attention to your struggle. his eyes were glued to what you were wearing. you had nothing but one of his t-shirts on. with you stretching up, the shirt rode up and it revealed your lower body. he wasn’t expecting that as soon as he came home, but he wasn’t complaining. placing his hands on your sides and pulling you flushed against his chest, you could feel his dick pressed upon you. gasping you swallowed when you felt his lips attached to your neck.
© riintarro 2021. do not repost/copy, alter, or share any of my works onto any other platforms.
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Peter : * Sneezes*
Y/N : Hail Satan.
Peter : ...
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