#“Haha. Maybe. You shouldn’t say that.”
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i-may-be-an-emu · 1 month ago
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con: straight person said the f slur
pro: they also accidentally said maggot first so that was funny at least
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lesbiansanemi · 10 months ago
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I hate when I’ll be complaining about some stupid bullshit a coworker does to other coworkers and half the time their response is to lower their voice and go “well…. You know…. I’m pretty sure they’re… on the spectrum, you know?” And every time I have a split second when I have to consider saying ���you know I’m autistic, right?” just to make them vaguely uncomfortable for a few minutes and actually think about what they’re implying but of course I do not do that because the gratification is not worth a large sect of shitty coworkers knowing that about me and then talking about me like that every time I do something vaguely annoying or dumb but man…. It does get tempting sometimes
#like idk!!! sometimes the coworkers in question DO display some common autistic traits#but that is NEVER what is being complained about (at least not by me) so WHY are we bringing it up like that el oh el#like when I say ‘yeah I don’t like this coworker because of the shitty fucking things she did to my friend’#the response should not be ‘well I think she’s autistic isn’t that so funny she’s so obsessive about stuffed animals it’s annoying’#shut up shut up SHUT UP AND DIE#I don’t CARE that they talk too loud I don’t CARE that they’re bad a social cues I don’t CARE that they do ‘weird things’#and it’s so. HFDJSJKSKSKS AAAGGHHHHH#whether they’re autistic or not MAYBE that’s not what should be getting brought up during a conversation like that when it has NOTHING to do#with it#also maybe we shouldn’t be doing shit like whispering ‘on the spectrum’ like its some awful terrible thing#just thoughts idk#and the thing is too is that even if I told these ppl I was autistic#they would 100% be the types that are like ‘oh? but you don’t ACT autistic I don’t think you are’#like actually I got very good at masking for these reasons thnx#also you think autism = Sheldon from the Big Bang theory and nothing else#but I already learned my lesson cuz I told a coworker that I wasn’t sure about exactly twice#one of them went ‘oh THATS why you’re so dumb and don’t realize when other ppl don’t like you and take advantage of you’#and then the other one went on a mansplaining spiel about how me being autistic was why adhd meds didnt work on me??????#so yeah. never doing that again. haha. hahahaha. hahahaha……#this actually happened a few days ago but it’s been Bothering me so much#I hate my fucking job….#kaz rambles
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nazumichi · 1 year ago
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i put the mad in penguins of madagascar the way i’m just smiling and waving boys
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persephoneflouwers · 1 year ago
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ectoplasmer · 11 months ago
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ryou should. um. marry me. maybe
#only a maybe though because do i reeaally like him that much or#(yes. i do.)#head in hands stuff came up personal and familial wise so i’m just. bleh#additionally i am so exhausted agsjdhd i keep passing out for like three hours whenever i get home…#literally no drive to do anything after school#it’s horrible#anyway. just thinking of him. i totally just think he’s neat it’s nothing more than that. totally#rgrhrhg you ever think about your f/o saying their theoretical vows at your guys’ theoretical wedding.#crying into my hands adbshfkg#i shouldn’t be crying over something as simple as this but i am lol#i sometimes just think about how he’d look during it or how he’d look at me and how he’d say them#do you think his voice would get softer when he says them. do you think he’d smile while saying them#he writes his own campaigns and stories and letters so i think i’d die on the spot hearing whatever vows he’d say#he’s good at writing and i just know whatever he’d have to say at such an important moment for us would probably Kill me haha#it’s just a silly little thing for me to think about but. god. one day i swear#i want to spend the rest of my life with him and i already know this#it’s so silly that i can feel this much for hecking. mr side character over here#agh i love him though. so much. a dumb amount. must i go on#him and his weirdness and his dorkiness and everything else#but i have to live through this first!! and then probably a couple more things!! and then we can have that#only a maybe though. because again do i reeeaaally like him that much or#lol anyway#spooky ghosts
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inupibaldspot · 7 months ago
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Back off, kid.
Pairing: gojo satoru x reader
Note ₊˚⊹♡ : this is a part 2 but you don’t really ly need much context haha.
·:*¨༺ Part 1 ༻¨*:·
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“You know you guys don’t really look alike.” You say as you bring your hands up and rearrange the tuft of hair to your liking, you hum when the other wise spiky persistent hair bends obediently.
While in-front of you there was a younger dark haired boy, face completely pink but doesn’t dare let any part of his body move from your touch. “We aren’t related so we shouldn’t look alike.” Fushiguro tries to act as normal as ever.
“You know he has been introducing himself as your dad in your PTAs.” you pull away with a smile. “Satoru says they get so shocked and think he is a teen-dad.” You laugh as you trail back to the memory, Gojo’s snarky comment on ‘If I’m Megumi’s dad then you’re his mom; Which makes you my wife~’ remains unsaid.
When you pull away, Fushiguro finally feels his body release tension and finally he lets out a sigh. He hopes Tsumiki comes back finishing her club meeting soon.
“Why are you sighing like a old man, Megumi?” You get up from cushion floor as you then proceed to sit on the nearby sofa and cross you legs, giving him a teasing smile.
Fushiguro looks away from you with a huff. “Just a small headache.” and maybe even a chest pain. Both caused by you.
You hum as you then let out a ‘ah—!’ as you then proceeded to smile and pat on you nap. “Come here.” You smile proudly.
Poor Fushiguro Megumi’s face burst into steam from the heat radiating off his face. “Like hell I can!”
“Megumi…” you said in a soft tone which make the younger boy flatter. “I’m not teasing, I’ll just give you a massage.”
The boy huffs and sits infront of his feet as he felt your gentle soft hands guide his head to you lap. His frown dissipates as he then lets out a sigh of relief upon the movement of your hands near his temple.
You let out a giggle to how Fushiguro was acting like an old man, maybe this is what happens to people who deal with Gojo on a daily basis. “How’s school? from next year you’re going to be a middle school student,megumi.”
It’s been a while since you visited, already finished with highschool and now acting as an active jujutsu sorcerer has kept you busy but still then you would always visit once a week, make them a good meal while also bringing in some groceries. You didn’t have to but you’ve always done it, your soul was so unwavering it warmed Fushiguro to his very core.
“I’ve been using the notes you’ve prepared for me so school is pretty smooth for now…” Fushiguro finally replied as he still doesn’t move his head from your lap, his eyes closed and arms crossed infront of him, cheeks with a rosey color.
“Thank god.” You beam, Fushiguro watches from the crack of his eyes. “It was actually my notes from back in the days. I always kept them with me.”
Fushiguro closes his eyes, the more he watches you the more he feels his heart constrict as if it ran a marathon. “y/n, I want to say… thank you—ugh!” The poor boy’s was pushed off your lap with a sudden but controlled push. “What the hell?”
“I’m so tiredddddd, y/n.” The voice almost purrs as there is a tuft of white hair on the plush of your thighs. You blink at Gojo who seemed to be looking at you from behind his bandages with a wide smiles plastered on his face. “Gimme a massage too~”
Fushiguro knows this scene too well.
Perhaps he wasn’t as subtle as he thought but any time he was too close to you, Gojo who is in his early 20s and almost a decade older than him always manages to throw him away. And now he watches you frowning and reprimanded Gojo for acting like that.
He sighs. “I’m leaving.”
You and Gojo quickly turn to his direction. You had a confused look to your face then it contours to something of worry. Was he mad at Gojo? Fushiguro could almost hear your thoughts.
Where as Gojo who currently has his head on his lap and one of his hand playing with your finger, give him a confused look before it turns into a full blown egotistical. ‘I won!’ smirk.
“Got homework.” Fushiguro turns and leaves.
“Satoru, you’re always acting like that to Megumi.” You say as you tear your hands away from his and then give his head a light ‘chop’.
“Then he shouldn’t touch what’s mine.” He huffs , as he closed his eyes and forms a sassy pout.
“What’s mine?” You question. “Did Megumi take something of yours?“
“No…Right now, it’s still with me.” Gojo opens his eyes, which makes your breath hitch. his eyes ever so beautiful as the evening glow assist its glimmer. “You know what I mean right?”
Your breath hitches and suddenly the room is much hotter,your heart races as it blooms in warmth.
Gojo’s face softens as he looks at your flustered face. “What I mean is… I’m in lo—UGH!”
“Sorry”
Suddenly a new enters the room, the same dark haired boy who left moments earlier. “My pencil slipped from my hand.”
“Megumi, you brat!” Gojo stands up, with currently a pencil stabbed on his forehead. Megumi threw it because he knew Gojo wouldn’t even think of letting his infinity be active when he was near you after all.
Gojo watches as Fushiguro gives him his usual deadpanned look before it turns into a full blown egotistical. ‘Hah! As if I’ll let you confess on my watch’ smile.
Taglist ˙✧˖° 🫧 ⋆。— @lysaray @thirtykiwis @sillysillygoofygoose @hotvinimon @olivianyx @anan-baban @shirabaee @genticcs
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nocturnalcharm · 3 months ago
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Faking It (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)
𐙚 prompt: charles forces you and logan to do a mission together in order to help you bond. 𐙚 cw: enemies to lovers, one bed trope, if this does well i’ll do a part 2 w smut ;) cussing, 𐙚 a/n:  thanks to everyone who's sent me req's! this wasnt a req but id already started it haha if youve sent a req ill try to get to it asap.... also so many ppl wanted to be added to a taglist but for the nsfw alphabet post i dont think it tagged like half the ppl?? so im sorry if u dont get tagged, im trying to fix it :)
18+ blog!! you are responsible for your own media consumption. if any of the above makes you uncomfortable, do not proceed.
“Professor, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“(Y/N), it’s not me you should be apologizing to. It’s your team. That’s who you both let down.” He eyes flick between you and Logan.
“I’ll go apologize to them now.” You turn to leave.
“You too Logan.” Charles says.
On this latest mission, you needed to sneak into a factory and take down all of the enemies— But you and Logan were arguing so loudly, you alerted all of the rivals, turning a few quick sneak attacks into full blown fights. No one was badly injured but you still felt horrible about it.
“This is all your fault.” You mumbled, just loud enough for Logan to hear.
“My fault? You’re kidding.” He huffs.
“Shut up.” You walk ahead of him, on the way to the common room to see your team.
Everyone was sitting there, talking amongst themselves. Once you and Logan entered, they all stopped their conversations and looked at you.
“Guys. I am so sorry about this mission.”
“I’m sorry, extremely sorry, and I apologize for my behavior.” Logan mocked your expression of regret.
“You are such a child, Logan! I’m trying to apologize!” You raised your voice.
“I am too!”
“Can you two just stop?” Hank stood up, silencing you both. “Your attitudes have been getting in the way of every mission. If you guys can’t get along then maybe you shouldn’t be here.”
“Oh..” You didn’t know how to respond. You couldn’t believe you let your dislike for Logan get in the way of your job, so much that they thought you shouldn’t be an X-Man anymore.
They all left the room, leaving just you and Logan to culminate in your thoughts.
“I think it’s pretty obvious we’re not going to get along any time soon.” He broke the silence.
“We’ll figure it out.”
“Yeah, whatever you say.” He walked out, as you sat in the empty room.
The next day, Xavier called you and Logan into his office yet again. You were concerned, worried he might be kicking you off the team. But instead, he said he had a mission for you two.
“I need you to pose as a couple. You’ll be going to an upscale hotel in Manhattan. It’s a cover for a drug smuggling ring. You two will stay as guests in order to collect information. I need everyone that is there, guests and workers alike, to think you two are madly in love. We don’t know who could be involved, so we can’t have them think anything suspicious.”
“Professor, is that the best idea? We just blew the last mission because we couldn’t stop arguing.”
“If you two fail this mission, I will have no choice but to replace both of you. You are amazing at what you do, but your arguing affects everyone. Not just yourselves.”
“Okay. We won’t let you down.” Logan speaks up.
***
The trip to the hotel was long and frustrating. You two couldn’t agree on anything the entire time. You criticized his driving, he criticized what you put on the radio, and how loud it was. You called him an old man, which just resulted in the radio being turned off and continuing the last hour drive there in silence.
When you arrived, it was late afternoon. Logan, pretending to be your fiance, grabbed all the bags by himself and walked inside. The hotel was huge. It was upscale, classy. So fancy you were afraid to touch anything, in fear it might break.
“Hi! Checking in for Anderson.” He greeted the front desk clerk, giving his forged name. He dropped the bags on the floor and you wrapped yourself around his now-free arm, squeezing it.
“Hello, Mr. Anderson.” She smiled back, “Let’s see. You had the penthouse, correct?”
“That’s right.”
“We’re celebrating our engagement!” You beamed, holding out your hand, showing off your fake engagement ring.
“That’s lovely. Congratulations! We’ll have a bottle of champagne in your room for celebration.”
“Thank you so much!” You squeaked.
He finished the check-in process, then you headed to the top floor.
The penthouse was absolutely gorgeous. It was huge, the size of a decent apartment. Just like the lobby, you were afraid to break something.
“Wow.. This is amazing. Only time I’ll ever get to stay in a penthouse and it’s with you.” You said, as he shut the door.
“I was just thinking the same thing. Now, c’mon we gotta go to the pool. Get changed.” He handed you your bag.
You opened it, pulling out your bikini. It was the only one you had, admittedly from a few years ago. You didn’t have time anymore to relax by a pool or go swimming in the ocean, so this swimsuit had to do. It was a simple black string bikini.
You went inside the bathroom to change. Once you had your swimsuit on, you felt a little self conscious at the amount of skin showing, but figured it’d help with the whole ‘can’t keep your hands off your new fiance’ vibe you and Logan needed to exude for this mission.
You walked out of the bathroom, faking confidence you didn’t have. Logan had taken the opportunity to just change in the living space since he was alone. He was wearing black swim trunks. It was funny, it looked like you two had matched on purpose.
“Wow.” He said quietly, clearing his throat.
“What? You like what you see?” You joked at his clear uncomfortableness with seeing you in such little clothing.
“Whatever, let’s just go.” He spat, grabbing two towels, the key, and exiting the room.
The second you were out the door, you both had big smiles on your face. His arm was around you, holding your side as you headed to the pool.
It wasn’t too busy, just a few kids with their parents, and a bartender at the outdoor bar. You told him you wanted a drink, so that’s where you headed first.
“Hey, can I get two Mojitos?” Logan asked, handing him the room key “And can you just charge it to our room?”
“Of course,” He started working on the drinks immediately, while you two sat and people-watched. He finished the drinks, and gave you them and the room key back.
You said thank you as you walked off, hoping Logan would just follow. There was a small hot tub that was empty, so that’s where you went. You stepped in carefully, afraid of slipping, and sat down in the warm water.
“Really?” Logan whispered, a fake smile still adorned on his face.
“This is what couples do, Logan. And we’re a couple for this weekend. So sit down and act like you love me, sweetie.” Your grin was starting to hurt your cheeks.
He sat down across from you, and you mentally rolled your eyes. You got up, and repositioned yourself, sitting in his lap, “What part of ‘act like you love me’ are you not getting?” 
He was frozen for a moment, caught off guard but quickly acted like he was happy to have you there, to not draw suspicion. You both took sips of your drink, as you continued to nonchalantly looked around.
You two stayed at the pool for awhile, taking mental notes of the guests and employees you saw. Honestly, this hotel didn’t seem too strange. But Xavier said it was a front so you guessed that’s why it seemed so normal, for their cover.
Once your drinks were empty, and the sun had started to go down, you both decided to head back up to the room. He got out drying himself off before wrapping you up in your towel. He picked you up and carried you bridal-style to the penthouse.
“Logan!”
“What? Just acting like I love you.” He smirked.
Once inside the room, he set you down. “I’m gonna go shower.” You stated, not really knowing what to do. 
He just nodded, walking off to the kitchenette. You grabbed your bag and headed to the bathroom.
***
You mentally cursed yourself as you scrambled through your bag, searching for a pair of pajama shorts you thought you packed, but they were nowhere to be found. 
“This cannot be real.” You whispered. The only other clothes you brought were jean shorts, and you sure as hell weren’t going to sleep in those.
You pulled out your oversized sleepshirt, putting it on. The hem landed right above the middle of your thigh. It was a little shorter than the length of a nightgown, so you just hoped he wouldn’t notice. You slipped on a pair of panties, snatched up your things, and exited the bathroom.
You immediately bumped into Logan, who was standing right outside the door.
“What the fuck?” You raised your voice, annoyed. “Why are you right outside the door?”
“I was about to knock. You’ve been in there for over an hour.”
“It’s all yours!” You sassed.
You walked over to the small kitchen, and see he had already opened up the champagne. You had a glass as you sat on a barstool, writing down some notes about the people you’d observed earlier. Pouring yourself another glass, you headed over to the bed.
Just as you made yourself comfortable, Logan came out of the washroom, in just a towel. You stared at his wet torso for a moment, hypnotized.
“My eyes are up here.” He laughed.
You looked up, embarrassed.
“Forgot my clothes. Hey, wait, why are you in the bed?”
“…Because I’m the girl?”
“You're also the short one. I can’t fit on that couch.”
“Oh, c’mon. It’s a big bed. We can both fit just fine. Unless you’re nervous. Never slept with a girl before, Lo?”
He sighed, clearly not wanting to argue, before taking his clothes and escaping back to the bathroom. You silently celebrated your victory.
He came out a few moments later, turning off the lights, sliding under the blankets and getting comfortable. You both ended up facing the same direction. If he was any closer, he’d be the big spoon, but there was a few inches separating you.
You adjusted your body, and accidentally felt your ass rub against him. You went rigid from humiliation, before scooting away slightly, ignoring it since he didn’t say anything.
You tried to fall asleep, but it was difficult, for many reasons. One, you’re not used to having someone else in your bed. Two, he was breathing heavily. Three, you couldn’t stop thinking about how sexy he was.
Of course, you knew Logan was attractive, you’d thought that since the moment you first saw him. But today, probably because of the faux-gagement, the touching, the flirting, you saw him differently. He was still getting on your nerves, but the flames between you two… His body… It was unlike before.
You exhaled a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You twiddled your feet, moving around your body nervously, before unintentionally grazing your ass against his crotch again.
“Y’know, if you keep rubbing your ass against my dick, I’m gonna do something about it.” His words sounded gruff in your ear, but they gave you butterflies.
“Maybe that’s what I want.” 
. ݁₊ �� . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
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gloomwitchwrites · 2 months ago
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Hello, hope you're a having a good day
Could you write something about 141 x reader where the sparring session turns a little too not your usual sparring (if you know what I mean). The reader and them being all sweaty and shit and like the sexual tension that's been there for a while. This idea has been plaguing my mind since forever. Thank youuuu
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Haha! Yes! Omg, I love it. Okay, for this, I didn't go full smut. When someone mentions sexual tension, I tend to hyperfocus on that and want to bathe in it. Give me naughty thoughts and flirting-maybe even some actual physical contact that borders on dangerous territory. Give me the yearning! I want to giggle and kick my feet and think about what might happen later.
So, I indulged in that regard! I had lots of fun with this. Thank you so much for sending it in!!!
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Task Force 141 x TF141!Female Reader
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, suggestive themes, knife play, grinding, rough kissing, caught in the act, training, naughty thoughts, mutual yearning
Word Count: 2.4k
ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
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John "Soap" MacTavish
“Come on. Come at me.”
Soap rolls his shoulders and then brings his fists up in a fighting stance. He makes a “go on” gestured with his hands.
Every muscle in your body is sore. Tired doesn’t even begin to describe how you’re feeling. But you want to best Soap. He’s been on your ass for weeks now—insisting that the two of you should spar together. It’s not the sparring that makes you warm and tingly but the way he suggests it.
Always leaning in. Standing far too close. Bumping your shoulder with his.
Soap waits, but you’re not sure how to proceed. So far, you’ve been completely unsuccessful. As if knowing all your moves, Soap has dodged each blow and kick, effortlessly taking you down to the mat every time you thinking you’ve ensnared him.
Stealth is more your thing. Creeping around in the shadows. Taking out opponents from afar. A sniper scope is your friend. Hand-to-hand isn’t.
You lunge for him and Soap steps back. Fist missing him, you sidestep and go for a jab in the stomach. Soap slaps your hand away, and you want to yell in frustration.
“Sloppy today,” chides Soap, grinning like this amuses him.
It probably does. He’s one for a good laugh.
This time you feign, and Soap takes it, moving in. You’re ready for him, turning out of his swing to duck beneath and then aim for the face. Soap rises to block, and opens a clear line to his groin.
Fucking beautiful.
Lifting your foot, you don’t tap him hard, just enough for his cheeks to go pink. Soap grunts, and you chuckle.
“Shouldn’t have left yourself—”
With an oof, your back smacks against the tumble mat beneath you. Soaps snags your wrists and pins them above your head. You go to kick out at him, but Soap’s knees are between your legs. He shoves them wider.
You’re completely trapped beneath him.
And in a completely inappropriate position.
From where you’re pinned, you notice the small beads of sweat on his brow and how a few pieces of hair stick to his skin. Though his chest is covered by a shirt, it’s snug, with every muscle on display. Those powerful thighs of his press against yours in such a way that you’re imagining nothing between your bodies.
Would he feel this powerful over you if the two of you were elsewhere? Perhaps, somewhere more private. Somewhere without a tumble mat. Somewhere with a bed.
“Can’t harm the goods, love,” says Soap, his voice husky. You’re not sure if it’s from the close contact or from the tap you gave his crotch.
“Then don’t leave them vulnerable,” you reply, almost not recognizing the sound of your own voice. It too is husky as if dipped in desire.
The middle of Soap’s brow scrunches slightly. His gaze travels downward to linger on your lips and then further still until you sense him admiring more than he is observing.
“Soap—”
His gaze snaps upward. “Johnny,” he corrects. “Think we’re on closer terms.”
“Are we?” you ask, as his hips start to relax.
The press of him against you is apparent, and the hardness there is poking at you. Insistent. And you don’t want to ignore it.
Instead, you press upward, grinding against him.
Soap—no—Johnny, makes a sound in his throat.
One moment you’re under him and then you’re in his lap, the two of you sitting up, staring into each other’s eyes. Your heart hammers in your chest, and your hands fists the front of his shirt.
“You—”
“Are we interrupting something?”
You and Johnny turn just as Ghost and Gaz enter the gym. Gaz has a towel draped over his shoulder. The water bottle he holds it half-way towards his mouth before he freezes, gaze locked on you and Johnny.
Ghost cocks his head, arms crossed over his chest.
You’re speechless. Lost. Your mind hasn’t caught up.
But Johnny’s has.
With a twist, Johnny rolls and then lightly tosses you off him as if the two of you were simply practicing and not staring into each other’s eyes.
“You want a go, Lt?” asks Johnny.
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
“You up for another round?” asks Kyle.
The man is grinning like he could do this all day. You’re sore everywhere—ready to collapse from exhaustion. Hand-to-hand combat is not your thing which is why you’re here in the training room with Kyle.
Yes, you need practice, but you’ve also had your eye on him, admiring him when you think no one is looking. It’s an excuse for some alone time.
“I’d rather eat glass,” you mutter, snatching up your water bottle and drinking the last of it.
“Hate me that much?” he teases.
“So much so that I wanted to spend the afternoon beating your ass.”
Kyle bursts out laughing. He snatches the water bottle out of your hand and aims it at you, squeezing. There’s nothing in it. A few measly drops hit your face and then you lunge for him. Kyle jumps back and extends his arms outward.
“One more round.” He winks. “Come on, love.”
He’s being cheeky, and your blood is pumping.
Kyle tosses your water bottle to the side as you stride forward. His arms go up, and then the two of you are nothing but flying fists and feet. He’s faster, blocking every blow you send his way.
Sweat accumulates on your brow and on the back of your neck, dripping down your spine. You lick your lips, taste the salt from the sweat.
You duck. Swing. Kyle snatches your wrist and twists, pinning your arm behind you. With a sharp jab of your elbow, you nail Kyle in the stomach, freeing yourself.
As you spin to lash out, Kyle is right there, in your space, blocking all movement. You try to step back, to allow space in your next strike, but Kyle rushes in. The two of you are twisted up. Falling. Slamming into the mat on the floor.
You shove and Kyle resists, his strength outmatching yours. With cheek pressed into the mat, you have nowhere to go. You’re completely on your stomach, and all of Kyle’s weight is on you. He breathes heavily, chest heaving. You feel his breath against your skin, and the contact only sends your skin into a shiver.
Your mind drifts, lingering in places it shouldn’t. Worse—Kyle is aroused. His hardness pokes at your ass. But whether he notices or not is unclear.
“You’re improving,” he says.
“I have a good teacher.”
Kyle makes a noise that sounds like agreement. Every muscle is tense, and even Kyle’s hold on you seems laced with something harsh. But then it eases. Softens. His grip loosens enough that you roll onto your side, glancing up at him.
He is so goddamn close. Just a gentle tilt of the head and your lips would meet his. It wouldn’t be that hard. He’s right there.
Kyle blinks, and then his gaze trails downward, lingering on your lips.
“We,” he begins. “We shouldn’t.”
“Why?”
His thumb traces along the side of your throat, and your eyelids flutter with contentment. A little moan escapes you, and you hear Kyle’s sharp inhale.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “Fuck it.”
His thumb becomes his whole hand. Holding you in place, Kyle goes all in, claiming your lips with his. It is dominating, and you happily give in to him.
John Price
Your back hits the tumble mat with a sharp slap. The exposed portions of your shoulders and back sting from the contact.
"Again."
Groaning, you push up to a seated position. "We've been at this for hours."
"And you need practice," counters Price.
He's hatless. And shirtless. Only in cargo pants and boots, Captain Price's bare skin glistens with sweat. You won't pretend that the sight of him like this doesn't intrigue you. For months now you've been observing Captain Price in more than just a professional manner. It's hard not to, and the sweat-drenched man before you isn't helping things.
Captain Price runs his fingers through his hair, taking a step back. The casualness to the movement causes your stomach to twist with desire. Your body betrays you, and you have no idea if these feelings are entirely one-sided. Sometimes you think you might gleam a notion of his thoughts, but it always manages to slip through your grasp.
Price offers his hand, and an idea forms.
You extend yours, but don't close the distance. Price is the one that leans forward to do so. It's the perfect opportunity. When your fingers close around his, you tug back, throwing him off balance.
Price tips forward, and you turn to the side as he crashes down to the mat. In one fluid movement, you roll Price onto his back and straddle his stomach.
"Never let your guard down. That's what you always say."
Price's eyes widen slightly before softening. The corner of his mouth twitches into a hint of amusement. It immediately sends heat flaring through you.
"I do," he replies, and it's nearly a coo.
That smirk of his widens into an actual smile, and then it's you on your back and Price straddling. You strike out with an elbow but Price catches your swing, trapping your arms above your head. He bends forward a bit, and it is then that you feel the stiffness against your stomach.
Price makes no move to hide it, and you don’t dare glance downward.
"You need to do better-"
"Captain."
Price immediately recoils, sitting up and releasing your arms. You twist to look behind you, only to find Ghost and Soap standing nearby. Ghost is ever the silent observer, but Soap's head is slightly tilted to the side, the middle of his brow pinched like he's not sure what's happening.
"Meeting starts in five,” says Soap. “Came to find you."
Price coughs and then he's off you, kneeling and offering you a hand again. You don't try to knock him down.
"Just going over some pointers,” replies Price.
"Pointers?" deadpans Ghost and you shoot him a look. He shrugs at you, gaze lingering before moving to his captain.
"Give me ten minutes. Shower. Then I'll be there."
Captain Price gives you a quick glance before walking off with Soap. Ghost crosses his arms over his chest and just stares.
“What?" you snap
"Pointers," he repeats.
"Oh, fuck off, Simon."
He chuckles and turns to follow the two out of the training room.
Simon "Ghost" Riley
"Your posture is terrible."
"That's very helpful, Lieutenant,” you deadpan.
"Are you sassing me?"
"No."
Simon shakes his head and sighs. “Can’t throw a knife accurately if you’re hunched like a goblin.”
“Goblin,” you mutter under your breath. “Asshole.”
“What was that?”
You clear your throat. “Seems easy, Lieutenant. You just throw the pointy end at the enemy.”
Simon grunts and then grabs your raised arm. "You won't hit anything standing like that."
You resist his pull but you're outmatch when it comes to strength. With one hand on your arm and one on your waist, Simon shifts you into position.
"Like this," he instructs, bringing your arm back. "Firm grip. Feet pointed forward." Simon releases your arm but his hand on your waist remains. "Throw. At the target."
You let the knife fly. It strikes just right of the bullseye.
"Again,” nods Simon.
"Really?"
Simon slowly drops his hand from your waist, the tips of fingers lingering a second longer than necessary.
Removing a knife from his boot, Simon flips it end over end. "We could hone your skills a different way."
"What way?"
“Grab your knife and find out.”
Stalking toward the bullseyes, you yank out the knife, joining Simon in the sparring ring. He bends at the knee, crouching into a fight stance. You mimic the movement.
Simon lunges first and you sidestep. But he's quick for such a large man. He moves around and behind you so fast he's almost a blur.
Grabbing your wrist, Simon lightly twists and pins you against his front, the knife tip pointed at your throat.
"Again,” he growls.
Simon lightly shoves you away. You spin. Striking out. He slaps your arm down and raises his own, the knife tip pointed at your throat for a second time.
"Again."
Showing your teeth, you charge at him, barreling into him at the middle. Simon staggers but doesn't faulter. He attempts to toss you off him, but you remain firm, grabbing hold.
This unloads him, his weight toppling with you. The two of you go down. Simon rolls you onto your back, his body pressed to yours, knife at your throat again.
"Better,” he says. “Still needs improvement."
You go to shove him off, but Simon doesn't budge. He remains where he is, and every point of contact is like an electrical spark. Even his face is close, balaclava nearly scratching against your skin. There is not part of him you’re not touching.
Awareness settles in.
Simon is all hardness over you.
"Have any tips you can give me?" you reply.
His gaze slowly lowers to your lips. His hips shift slightly, something stiff poking against your inner thigh.
“I have one,” he murmurs.
Bet I can guess.
“How do you want it?” he continues.
"You're the expert," you reply softly, hooking your leg over the back of his.
It's an invitation, one you aren't sure he'll take.
There’s a brief pause, and then Simon hums in agreement. It’s a pleased sound, one that instantly makes you shiver. Without taking the knife from your throat, he closes the distance, lips pressing against yours through the balaclava.
Heat erupts, the knife in your hand forgotten on the floor as you grab at him, fingers digging in.
It's only a tease. You want the real thing.
"What's the tip?" you ask once he breaks the connection.
Simon answers by grinding his hips against yours.
That one. Got it.
“We should—”
A door slams from somewhere down the hall. Simon’s head snaps up. The knife disappears, and then Simon is pushing himself away, kneeling beside you. His head is turned toward the main doors, but no one enters.
“It’s late,” you say. No one should be coming this way.
He turns back to you. “Your knife skills are shit.”
You groan. “I know. Goblin hunch. Got it.”
Simon snorts, and offers his hand. You take it, and he pulls you into a seated position. “Just a few more rounds,” he says, and then with a husky twinge to his tone, “and then I’ll go make sure the locker room is clear.”
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luveline · 7 months ago
Note
would you be in the mood to write something for peter parker x reader?? it’s been a while since i’ve read anything new for him and i’m missing my boy :( maybe something about things getting heated while making out with peter but he knows reader isn’t ready to go any farther so he has to stop them, and then maybe reader feels guilty for not being ready bc they feel like they’re stringing him along? a good mix of (semi)smut & fluff & angst haha. thank u angel i love u <3
ty for requesting, love u <3 fem!reader, 1k
cw suggestive content
“Is that okay?” he whispers. 
You’re nearly too busy trying to kiss him to whisper back. “Yeah, Peter, just–” Fully too busy. 
Peter enjoys being on top of you for two reasons; the first, the most imperative in the moment, is because it flicks a switch in your mind that has you all flustered and breathless under his touch, your chest heaving something sorry and your hands a frenetic back-and-forth between roaming and limp on his back; and the second, his guilty pleasure, is that he’s in an optimal position to slide his knee between your thighs and listen for your breathless sigh. 
He says your name between kisses to catch your attention, finds he can’t quite get it as your mouth closes up on his and your spit wets his lips. Your hand wanders under his shirt. 
Peter has been worse than shirtless around you, a consequence of his strange after-classes hobby, but he’s not so sure you’re ready to peel him out of it. Your fingers ride up his spine. 
He fishes your hand from behind him to hold it above your head. 
“Hey,” he says, pulling back, your eyes lit and aligned with one another, the brightest light in the room. It feels wrong to speak into the dark like this, disrupting your whispers and your quick breathing. “You don’t wanna do that.” 
“I do,” you say. He’s no genius, but he sees the wobble of your lashes for what it is, sudden regret. 
“It’s okay, bub. We got too heavy too fast,” he laughs. 
You bite the inside of your lip as he sits up. It’s his fault, he shouldn’t have kissed you like that, definitely shouldn’t have let his leg slide up against you, what was he thinking? He’s kissed you so hard your lips are swollen. 
You use the flats of your palms to clamber up against the headboard. Your heart is a thudding he can’t ignore, triply loud, and his own pulse is rocketing too. 
“I’m sorry,” you say. 
“No, that’s okay,” —he reaches for the hem of your sweatpants to tug them back over your hip and stomach— “I was bearing down on you, I shouldn’t have– I–” Peter Parker levels of stuttering occur, to which he can’t subject himself, hiding his face in his hands. 
There’s a small silence. Peter attempts to calm down. Your heart rate slowly drops. 
“I really am sorry, Pete.” 
His neck cricks as he lifts his head. “What?” He lets his legs fall to the side of the bed and shuffles up to the top to see you clearly, squishing the back of your thigh where your legs are up to his hip. “Come on, what do you have to be sorry for?” 
“I’m leading you on and stuff. Not cool.” 
“What? What are you talking about? I started it.” 
“I was giving it just as good as I was getting it,” you say with a regretful smile. “You’re just such a great kisser–”
“Don’t try and distract me, it’s working,” he teases. More seriously, he puts his hand on your knee, thumb pressing to the soft crease underneath it. 
“I shouldn’t kiss you like that if I’m not ready for it.” 
“Why not? You can kiss me whatever way you like, it doesn’t have to lead to anything.” 
“I’m winding you up. Boys don’t like that.” 
“I love it,” he says, dropping his chin to his hand to speak to you from just below your eye line. “I love everything you do, I love kissing you, it doesn’t mean you have to be ready for something else.” 
You don’t accept his reassurances as quickly as he’d like, leaning back, the rising valley of your chest and tummy two pretty not to look at even as something serious transpires. He adores you, your every hill and curve and rigid line, all of it, and he’d love to fuck you but there’s no rush. What do you need to rush for? Peter’s sure it’ll be just as much fun a few months down the line as it would’ve been tonight, but it’ll be perfect then, because you’ll be ready then. 
“Who cares what boys like anyways?” he mumbles, kissing your kneecap appreciatively. 
“I just don’t wanna mess it up, Pete. I really like you.” 
“You can’t mess it up, it’s not like that, we’re not like that. You mean a whole lot more to me than that,” he says, giving your thigh a squeeze. You meet his eyes with less shyness now, the beginnings of a smile like twitches at the corners of your mouth. “I like you more than you like me, anyways. You can string me along. String me up, if you want.” 
“String you up where?” you ask with a laugh. 
“From that statue on ESU?” 
“What? How would I do that?” 
“Get Spider-Man to help you.” 
You pull the leg he isn’t leaning on up toward your stomach, knee rubbing along the inside of your opposite thigh, the last trace of regret. “You’re sure you don’t care?” 
“Don’t care, don’t mind, just want you to be happy.” He kisses your knee. “I thought you’d know that by now.” 
You brace your face in both hands, letting out a long sigh. “I don’t know what I know when you do that thing to me. How about you keep your legs away from my legs for a little while?” 
Peter smiles like an idiot, hiding his eyes in your knee and his mouth behind your calf. He doesn’t mind being honest, but you’re making him nervous flirting like that and he isn’t allowed to kiss you again tonight. “I– I can do that. No leg stuff.” He leans away from you suddenly. “God, no leg stuff. You’re beautiful, I wish you didn’t worry about me.” 
“I’ll try not to, Pete.”  
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hellofears · 2 years ago
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[ ♫ ] + [transcript]
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wakeup01 · 5 months ago
Text
Theft Of A Bro
Uffh. Yeah, that’s good. Just like I thought…tight. We’ll see how long that lasts. No need to talk bro, I know what you want to say. You’re sorry for reacting that way, that me being gay shouldn’t have changed anything. That you shouldn’t have used that slur, or called me a bitch.
Hindsight is 20/20 though, especially when you’re getting fucked by a bro who’s stealing your muscles. Dude, don’t look away. Look me in the eyes, I want you to watch your legs dangle hopelessly above you as I take your masculinity. Take the body you worked so hard for. And I want to see your expression when you begin to love it.
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I can already see your arms deflating down there, becoming dainty twigs. You won’t be able to lift a thing with those. That’s okay bro, you can give that bulk to me. I’ll put it to good use. Fuck. See them balloon, so fucking good man. Rrrrww! My biceps feel so much stronger, check out these guns. Check out YOUR guns on my body. Haha. What? Come on bro, you can forgive me for a bit of flexing. Okay maybe a lot of flexing, but I can’t help it. You were always such a egocentric showoff - puffing out your chest like a territorial beast. A textbook, self obsessed fuckboy, now I understand why.
And just look at my expanding pecs. So fucking thick and juicy. Bouncing in time with my th—thrusts! Those used to be yours. You always hated how guys used to eye them up, but now you’ll be the one salivating at them. No need to try and deny it my dude, soon enough your body will have new…needs. Wow bro, you’re already looking real flat down there. Those endless hours spent at the gym to boost your fragile ego, only for me to steal it within seconds. All that definition just fading into your tiny, slimming stomach. Those grab-able hips. Fuck, me on the other hand, I’ve never felt stronger. You could break rocks on here! I’ll take good care of these abs, they look better on me anyway.
Aww, your square jaw is rounding out to a cute little pouty face. Squirm all you want. You look so adorable when trying to seem angry bro. Hard to take you seriously when you’re blushing so intensely. You did always tease my boyish features and now my head is like chiselled marble. And you? That button nose and those freckles, guys are just gonna love you. Say goodbye to being a manly jock. Hello twinky boitoi! I think your waist is now thinner than your girlfriend… or is that ex girlfriend now? That’s a body designed to be fucked brah. So just let me fuck it. Take it like a BITCH! Like the BITCH you thought I was.
Uff. I can feel my cock expanding inside you. The veins pulsing, flowing with blood. Can you feel it too bitch? Yeah, by your expression I know you can. Stretching your hole wide, filling you to the limit. Feels good, doesn’t it. Don’t look now but your dick is shrinking. I’m stealing all that length, all that girth; pushing mine deeper and deeper inside you. Pounding that prostate. There you go. A tiny nub. My churning balls are dropping lower and swelling as yours shrivel up. Mmmff. Fuck that’s sick bro.
Yeah, it’s okay to moan. Your breathy voice getting higher and higher, as mine gets deeper. Don’t be embarrassed. It’s normal for slutty bitches in heat like you. It’s in your nature. Especially when in the presence of an alpha god like me. Whew, my pits are sweating like mad, just smell that intense musk. Smells just like you used to, bet that fact makes you real hard. Smelling your scent dripping from another man as it’s stolen from you.. Sniff and moan. Sniff, moan and give everything to me.
Holy shit, even your skinny legs are hairless now bro. Just like the rest of your smooth, svelte physique. How does it feel? How does it feel to be the ideal gay bottom slut, the very thing you abhorred.
Why so quiet broski? Oh that’s right, we’re trading that pigheaded ego for an eagerness to please. You had enough confidence to share, so I’m taking it. Taking all of it. Fuck. Yes. Your outspoken nature is draining into me, leaving a timid little mouse in it’s place. A stark difference from that rude, puffed-up dick you prided yourself on being. Even now I bet part of you wants to talk back, be a brat. Hm, but that shy smile betrays what you really are. A well behaved boy who knows his manners. Isn’t that fucking right? Heh, good boy.
Look at me and see what you used to be. Marvel at me, marvel at what you’ve lost. Starstruck at your own well deserved comeuppance. Feel your nub twitch at the sight of the perfect man fucking your jock-hood into nothingness. That strength being sapped away. It makes you feel so small and weak. But you can’t tear your eyes away.
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Your head? Sorry bro, I got bored of being the dumb one, so yeah, I’m taking your smarts too. Even if you did waste it and let your cock make most of the decisions. Maybe if you hadn’t held it over me, looked down at me. Well…who’s looking down now? Don’t worry, being air-headed has it’s benefits. That empty look in your eyes, the open drooling mouth. Blissful ignorance. The cute way you’ll get confused at the simplest of things. The ‘ummms’ and ‘huhs’ as you bite your lip and push out your rear. Talking like the complete basic bitch gay you once hated. The constant state of mind melting hornyiness. Dumb as a rock. A complete ditz. You’ll get by doing ‘favours’.
I’m not a jackass though. Not like you were. It’s only fair you get something of mine bro, you can have what’s left of my body fat. Unf. Straight to your rear. Let it plump up your butt to a perfect round bubble. A wobbly shelf. A big bouncy booty. Woof. Yeah just like that. The perfect entrance to your endlessly usable fuck hole. Damn, it’s tight. Let’s conquer it.
Bruh, your masculinity is truly delicious, surrender the rest up to me. To my new hulking, godlike form. Purge every trace of manliness from your puny effeminate body with abject glee. Lisp, smile and giggle like a silly little girl. Like the Femboy you were destined to become.
Like a BITCH.
Say again? Bthweed? Oh, you want me to BREED you. Way ahead of you bro. When I cum with my monster cock, your pretty little head will become stuffed with thick, cummy cotton candy. And bro, it’s never gonna clear up again. I have a new adorable outfit already picked out for you. Thigh high socks, booty shorts, a tiny thong and a nice thick collar with your name on the tag. BITCH.
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I’m gonna enjoy parading you out in front of all our fraternity bros. You’ll pretend to be all timid and ashamed but I’ll know you’re actually loving the sense of humiliation. Loving your new place as my emasculated gay fucktoy. If you beg enough I might even let the rest of the frat borrow you. I’ll be sure to let ‘your’ girl know that you were a good hole after being passed around. Maybe she’ll even give you tips, you’ll be besties in no time.
Hm? That’s ‘thank you sir’ to you. That’s better. Let’s be clear, we’re not ‘bros’ anymore. I’m a fuckmachine and you’re a glorified fleshlight. We need to make sure you don’t forget your role. A simple tag will suffice. I’ll even let you choose where your ‘BITCH’ tattoo goes. Forehead or rear, it’s up to you. Yeah boi, I think it’ll look good there too.
Now open wide BITCH and be ready to swallow. I’m about to fucking blow.
———-
Whew! That was a good fuck. Clean up boy, the other bros will be here soon and I…woah. Damn, I feel lightheaded. It’s like my brain is overstuffed. With…stuff. And my cock, uughhh. It won’t soften. Maybe I took a bit too much from you, but fuck, I couldn’t help myself. You deserved it after all. But bruh, I need to lift! Huhuh! Oh shit. I don’t want to be exactly like you were! But dude. Like bruh! My head! Gotta lift! Gotta flex! Gotta get to the gym and be the blockheaded fuckboy muscle jock this body deserves!
Pass me your old jockstrap, yerhh, my huge cock gonna do the thinking for the both of us brooo!
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buckys-wintersoldier · 7 months ago
Text
Like an animal | Bucky Barnes
Pairing -> Avengers!Bucky Barnes x Avengers!Fem!Reader
Summary -> When you don’t want to hear when Bucky says something and you get hit by sex pollen he makes sure you know that you should listen to Bucky when he says something.
Wordcount -> 2.371
Warnings -> (E) 18+, Minors DNI, smut, sex pollen, slight thigh riding, oral (fem!receiving), unprotected p in v, rough sex, hate sex, using of the word slut
Request -> Heyyy. I saw your Bucky smut menu and I couldn’t resist lol. Could you do 1. Either enemies to lover or sex pollen (maybe both idk im not picky) 2. Protective Bucky (I wouldn’t oppose to him being slightly jealous too lmao) 3. Oral f receiving and hate sex. And for the petnames I cannot stand anything like pet, kitten, bunny, puppy. No shame to ppl who like them, im just more simple. I'm fine with stuff like babe/baby, doll, honey, sweetheart. I hope this wasn’t too picky lol😭❤️🤞🏾 @blckbarbiedoll
A/N -> Thank you so much for the request. I hope you like it. I tried to include everything you asked for so yeah just read and decide if you like it or not I guess haha. Divider made by @firefly-graphics.
Events -> Bucky Barnes Smut Menu
Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist
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Bucky groans when you just hit the Hydra Agent before he runs away and you follow him. The brown-haired man told your brother he would take care of you, but you’re always so stubborn around him and need to prove that you can do things on your own. Of course he knows, but being the protective man he usually is, he is even stronger when he is with you. Not only because of your brother, who is also his best friend, but also because he likes you. Way more than he admits, he really likes you since the day you started to work together, and the two are always around each other. But a part of him hates you for being so stubborn; at least he hates you in a way that he wants to fuck your attitude out of you and teach you some manners.
He tried to convince you to help, but you were just shaking your head and pushed him away before you punched the other agent. Bucky was standing there, rolling his eyes, but he knows he shouldn’t make you angry; otherwise, he would get some punches as well.
When you run after the agent, he follows you with a groan. Looking around the corner to be sure there is no other agent. When Bucky walks around the corner, the floor is empty, and he can only hear some shouts and some noises, which tell him that you’re beating the guy up.
Meanwhile, you’re in a room with the agent; he just ran into it, and in your headspace of wanting to punch him, you follow him. You don’t really look around you; you’re not noticing the suspicious things around you. The only thing you’re focused on is the Hydra agent opposite you.
“You’re such a naive little girl, aren’t you?”
“Shut up. You don’t know me, and a little girl couldn’t punch you like that,” you shout and walk closer while you lift your hand.
He laughs darkly, waiting until you’re just a few steps away. Then he pushes a button, and a loud noise echoes through the room. You immediately cover your ears with your hands, trying to make the noise quieter. The agent pushes you to the side; you fall and crash against a table before you fall to the ground and make yourself smaller. You press your legs to your chest, your head resting on your knees, while you see the man pushing another button. Then he leaves the room, the noise gets quieter, and you inhale loudly, relaxing your body while there is a complete silence in the room.
You slowly sit up, looking around, but the Hydra agent isn’t in the room anymore. The doors are closed, and you inspect the things around you. There are a lot of containers, big containers. They are filled with some kind of colorful gas, and you wonder what kind of experiments they are doing there.
“Y/N? Are you there?” Bucky shouts from outside the room, trying to open the door.
“Bucky, did you catch him?”
“No?”
“Then do it!” you shout annoyedly back and roll your eyes.
“No! We need to get you out of that lab; there are chemicals.”
You sigh, annoyed. Bucky crashes with his shoulder against the door. While you hear him groaning, you stand up and walk over to one of the containers.
“BUCKY!”
“What? I try to open the door, oke!”
“Yeah, hurry up. It-It’s cooking,” you shout back, taking a step back when the liquid connects itself with the gas.
“What?”
Before you can answer, it bangs, and a big cloud of liquid and gas is over the container, slowly getting bigger like the fog during a rainy and cold morning.
“What the fuck are you doing there?” Bucky asks, and you laugh sarcastically.
“I didn’t do anything. Here are some liquids and gases, and it just- I don’t know. It’s green! Is that normal? Is it supposed to be green?”
“I don’t know. I’m not Bruce.”
“Bucky! James! When he is green, it’s not good, so get me out of that room.”
The fog coats the room, and even when you try not to inhale it, you feel it slowly rushing through your veins, and everything starts to tingle. You feel like you get needy in a way you never were before, and you feel your pants dripping, soaking your panties immediately. You moan softly, your hand slides between your legs, and you shiver at the touch of your fingers. You rub the fabric of your panties and pants against your wet folds, feeling a bit of relief when you move faster against your fingers. A moment later, the door crashes, and you remove your hand. With wide eyes, you look at Bucky, who just broke the door and is looking around.
“Get out of there, doll,” he demands, holding his hand out for you to grab it.
“B-Bucky. I-“
He makes you shut up when he holds your hand and pulls you against him. His firm, muscular chest presses against you, and you groan softly. His leg is pressed against your cunt, and you start to grind yourself against it, making Bucky look at you with furrowed eyebrows.
“What do you think you’re doing there?”
“Please, those- Bucky- Sex pollen,” you mumble, your head falling against his chest while you move your hips slowly against his thigh.
He gasps, his hands immediately around your waist to push you back slightly. Your head falls back, and your eyes are filled with pure desire and lust when you look at him. You bit onto your lip, trying to push your hips against him, feeling the friction you had when you moved against his leg, but he holds you still.
“Please, Bucky.”
“You should learn some manners, shouldn’t you? Running after a Hydra agent and being in one room with him. He could have done filthy things to you. Do you like that? Do you like being used by a man?” Bucky groans; his eyes darken when he feels his dick harden in his pants.
As much as he hates the thought of you being used as a fuck toy by someone else, he loves the thought of using you as his own little doll. Where he can let out his jealousy and his frustration that you just can’t listen during missions and that you always talk back.
“Answer me!" his tone is rough, his fingers digging into your waist, and you moan softly.
“Yes.”
Bucky groans and leans closer to you. Then he presses his lips onto yours and pulls you closer, his hard dick pressing against your stomach, and you whimper. His hands roam over your body, finding their way up your sides, squeezing your breasts through the fabric of your shirt and bra before he slides them back down and lifts you up. You wrap your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck, and your lips never leave his while he carries you to the next counter he can find.
With one movement, he shoves everything off the surface and places you on top of it. He takes a step back, still spreading your legs apart while his hands glide along your thighs. Bucky grips the waistband of your pants, tugging at them. You move your body up to help him so he can take off your pants and panties. And he does; he shoves both down your legs and smirks when he sees your already dripping pussy. You moan; the cold air hitting your wetness makes you even more desperate, and you want to move a hand between your folds, but Bucky stops you, gripping your hand and pushing it away.
“Don’t dare to touch yourself. You need to learn manners, and I will teach you them.”
Bucky gets on his knees in front of you, his hands sliding along your thighs before he grips them and holds them apart. Then he kisses a trail along your stomach until he reaches your pussy. His tongue slides through your folds softly, and the warmth of it lets you shiver. Bucky lets go, smiling when he sees your hands gripping the surface to ground yourself.
“Good girl,” he praises.
With a short kiss on your stomach, he guides his tongue back to your folds, sucking softly at your clit and circling it with his tongue before he lowers his movements to your entrance. Your moans and whimpers encourage him to continue to give you the pleasure you want him to give you with his tongue.
“Don’t cum before I allow you to cum.”
You nod, and he raises an eyebrow, looking at you. His hot breath against your wet pussy, coated in your arousal and his saliva. Bucky works his tongue slowly inside of you, taking his time while you push yourself more against him, trying to get more of his tongue. More of him inside of you.
“Bucky-“
“I teach you manners. So we go by my pace,” he explains, kissing your clit.
“You’re a tease, aren’t you, Barnes?”
“Such a big mouth for such a little girl, huh?”
He nibbles softly at your clit, sliding his tongue through your folds again before he kisses every inch of your private part. Bucky loves the way you whimper to get more of the pleasure he gives you. He brings you close to your orgasm, but whenever you want to cum, he just kisses your skin softly. He just needs to push his tongue inside of you, and you are almost over the edge, your walls clenching around him, and he imagines his dick inside your wet, warm hole. The way you’re going to squeeze it when you cum and the way you will moan his name when he thrusts his dick deep inside of you.
Bucky gets up, making you whine. He smirks, his hands still sliding over your thighs before he removes them. You want to protest, but you don’t when you hear him unbuckling his belt before he pushes his pants and boxers down. His hard cock springs free, the tip leaking with pre-cum. He is huge, and you smirk softly when you see the veins running along his shaft. Bucky grabs his cock, stroking it a few times while he rubs his thumb over his tip and smears the pre-cum all over his dick. Then he slaps his dick against your clit, making you gasp.
“You’re so needy,” he says, his cock resting between your wet folds.
Then he likes his dick up with his entrance and pushes himself inch by inch inside of you. He stretches you open like no one ever did before, and your walls are already squeezing his dick. Bucky tries his best not to cum immediately; the warmth and tightness of your pussy make him go crazy. He pushes himself inside of you completely. You moan loudly, your hands find their way to his shoulder, and you grip them. Then you pull him closer, and Bucky breaks the distance between your lips, kissing you roughly while he gives you a moment to adjust to his dick.
Bucky pulls out of you, thrusting inside of you even harder. He is rough, fucking your attitude out of you and the way you talk back. He slams his dick inside of you, forcing it completely between your tight walls. You almost scream at the harshness of his thrusts, his balls slapping against your ass while he fucks you like a wild animal. But the two of you need it - the roughness, the slight pain inside of you, which turns slowly into pleasure. A kind of pleasure you never felt before, one only he can give you while he fucks you like a slut, a toy that just wants to be used by Bucky.
“I hate your fucking attitude,” he says, pulling out to slam his dick harder inside of you.
You scream, your fingers digging into the skin of his back. Your back arches, and you move against him, wanting him deeper.
“I hate the way you always need to talk back.”
He uses his metal hand to grip your throat. Bucky just holds his hand there; he doesn’t squeeze your neck.
“Fucking. Little. Slut,” he groans between his thrusts.
“Bucky- I’m-“
“Shhh. But even when you annoy me with that, I love you, doll,” he admits while he fucks you like an animal.
You throw your head back, overwhelmed by the pleasure he gives you. You feel every vein of his cock; he hits your sweet spot whenever he thrusts inside of you.
“I wanna cum, please. I- Bucky, I love you too. Can I cum? Please?”
He chuckles, bringing his other hand to your clit and rubbing circles on it. At the same harsh pace, he pushes his high lengths inside of you.
“Cum, doll. All over my dick.”
And you do as he tells you. While you scream his name in pleasure, you feel the know in your stomach snapping, and you cum all over his dick. Bucky watches in awe at you while you cum, then he looks down where his dick is connected with you. His cock is covered in your cum, and he groans. When you squeeze him even more, he doesn’t need long until he cums inside of you, painting your walls with his seeds while he slows his movements. You both breathe heavily, your bodies covered in sweat, and Bucky lets himself fall down on top of you. Your hands slide from his shoulders into his soft brown hair, and you play with them.
“Do you mean that, doll?”
“What?”
“That you love me too.”
“Yeah, I love you, Buck.”
He smiles, leaning closer to kiss you softly. His plumb lips perfectly fit against yours.
“Let’s clean us, and then we go back to the compound. I will make sweet love to you there. How does it sound? And then a movie night.”
“But I decide the movie,” you say.
The two of you laugh before he kisses you again and slowly pulls out of you. Bucky helps you to clean yourself before he cleans himself between a lot more kisses.
┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓
𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨
𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬
┗━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┛
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Taglist: @sergeantbarnessdoll @kandis-mom @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry
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saerins · 5 months ago
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ᯓ ᝰ RIGHT HERE .ᐟ — touya todoroki
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touya x female reader. content tags modern au, childhood sweetheart!touya, both are working adults, making out, mentions of infidelity/murder, he’s a tease. word count 1.7k
ᯓ notes .ᐟ haha can you tell i love touya too much rn ? just getting back into writing so have some of my touya :) thanks to any of you who read this <3
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“touya, you’re gonna make me late for work tomorrow,” you whine, pouting as he wins you in yet another round of super smash bros. (and hence you’d have to stay up and continue playing at his behest.)
beside you, touya smirks, rows of pearly white visible while he clearly enjoys tormenting you. “weren’t you the one who said you needed a distraction?”
you grumble as you take the couch pillow and hold it over your face, groaning in frustration. touya’s right; you’d called him right after dinner, practically forced him to come after you figured out that you’re actually not as strong you thought and you’re actually still really upset that your ex cheated on you.
it’s only pathetic because it’s already been a couple of months and you’re still wallowing over it somehow.
“you know, i bet all that frustration will go away if you just let me kill that fucker,” touya tells you, flicking your forehead as leans forward, yanking the cushion off your face.
unamused, you deadpan at him. “yeah? then what am i gonna do when you’re in jail, huh?”
touya snickers, “aww, what? can’t handle being without me?”
in a strange way, your honest answer is definitely not. you’ve known touya forever. ever since you were five and your families connected at a preschool event. ever since your friend fuyumi introduced you to her brother. ever since touya confided in you how much he hated his father.
fast forward more than a decade later and you’re both sitting in your apartment, in a different state than either of your families, still as close as you were when you were kids.
you glare at touya, rolling your eyes before scrunching your nose and smirking at him. “actually, go ahead, i’ll go find myself a better guy while you rot in the cell.”
your best friend scoffs, cocking a brow and looking like he’s offended. “i off someone for you and you don’t marry me immediately? the fuck is wrong with you?”
the shit-eating grin that dawns on his face immediately after makes your heart skip a beat. yeah, you’ve always found him attractive, maybe even had a crush on him back in high school, but he’d always had girls after girls, and somewhere along the way you learned to stuff those flimsy emotions back down.
until you remember that he’s been single for a while now, and the fact that you’re both working adults with all the freedom in the world.
fuck, you really shouldn’t go back there.
“haha, funny,” you try to wave it off sarcastically. “says the one who told his ex that he just sees me as a little sister.”
he laughs, leaning back against the couch, a hand behind his head, abs sticking out from the edge of his shirt. it takes you a second to rein yourself in, not wanting to get teased relentlessly by him if you get caught staring.
“hey, she was getting jealous of me spending so much time with you! what was i supposed to say?”
yes, you’re aware. most of them were. most of the time you never told touya about any of that; of how his girlfriends were coming up to you, all insecure about your friendship and asking if you could back off. that was the most common thing among all his relationships: the girls’ pleas for you to keep a distance.
you did… the first few times.
and after his fifth relationship, you realised that touya would always pull you back close. would always end up breaking up with them if your friendship is causing them too much worry.
“you didn’t have to say anything, maybe you should’ve just kept your distance, you know? since most of them seemed to have a problem with it,” you comment, trying to act as nonchalant as possible, though even you don’t believe yourself.
a life without touya is unimaginable for you. even if you can’t really say the same for him.
touya sighs, shifting in his position before ultimately putting an arm around you, pulling you close. he smells like your soap and his hair against your face tickles.
he’s always like this; always touchy, always close. recently he’s been more than usual, coming over and sleeping the night (you never did anything physical!), chasing other guys away at the club because they’re not good enough for you.
and when he’s like that, you think maybe there’s no harm in letting those long-lost feelings flow back.
it’s dangerous.
he’s always like this. always way too much for you to handle. and yet you can’t live without him.
and then he does something he’s never done before.
you feel his lips on your temple, and you hear the chuckle reverberating from his throat. his left arm around you holds you tight, not that you’re running anywhere—you’re pretty sure you’re frozen stiff from the shock.
did that really happen?
“how can i do that when you’re the only one i want?”
you’re sure that’s his voice. it can’t be anyone else’s. but you’re not sure if you believe him. is he really saying what you think he’s saying?
slowly, you turn to face him, expecting him to wear that smug grin and tease you for being so gullible but it never comes. instead, you’re greeted with his half-lidded eyes, blue pupils staring at your lips like he’s hypnotised, his thumb caressing your lower lip from left to right like he’s trying to memorise all the grooves.
it’s so soft that you barely recognise your own voice when it comes, “touya, kiss me.”
and maybe he’s always wanted to, because he doesn’t miss a beat. the second you open your mouth, he’s giving you what you asked for, his tongue prying your lips open and he tastes just like the warm in winter mornings, like the comfort people always dream about.
mint. you can taste the sweet from when he ate it right before he beat you in the game. you can feel the cold on the tip of your nose from when you brush against the piercings on his nostrils. you can feel him carry you onto his lap, feel his hands wrapping around your waist. you can feel his heartbeat under his chest, under your palm, almost as erratic as your own.
were you really just upset over someone else?
every relationship you’d been sad over suddenly didn’t seem to make sense anymore. not when touya’s right here, lips locked with yours and telling you more with his kiss than you’ve ever heard from his words.
by the time you pull away, both of you are breathless, his hand on your cheek, lips softly brushing over your own like he can’t bear to be away even for just a second. you can’t bring yourself to open your eyes, half overwhelmed and half confused.
“fuck, did we really just—”
“shh,” you hush him, putting a finger on his lips, suddenly embarrassed. your foreheads are still pressed together, and you can’t see it but he’s admiring your face, holding himself back from just kissing you even more.
touya moves your finger away. he whispers your name in the most gentle tone you’ve ever heard, “does that mean you feel the same?”
you swallow the lump in your throat, tongue-tied and still straddling your best friend on the couch. you’re just a single impulsive action away from going all the way.
dangerous.
pulling back even further, you’re about to make a break for your bedroom when touya pulls you back, making sure you face him.
“no running this time,” he tells you, voice raspy and his eyes flicking from your eyes to your nose and your lips but mostly your lips. “i want you,” he whispers, and the minute you lock gazes, the answer has never been more clear to you.
“i want you too, touya,” you answer, both excited and afraid but he never lets you harp on things too much because he’s already kissing you silly, barely letting you breathe—you don’t have to guess with him; he wants you so desperately you can feel it in his actions.
“touya, we should stop,” you whine, knowing that this might be going way too quick yet you want it all the same.
touya shakes his head, big hands slipping under your shirt and squeezing your waist. “no, don’t wanna stop,” he whispers into your mouth.
he’s about to pull your shirt over your head when the loud shrill of his phone interrupts. he would’ve tossed it to the side if you hadn’t taken it and insisted he should take it. it’s from shoto, after all. (he doesn’t call often, it’s a complicated relationship.)
grumbling, touya leans back, keeping your thighs in place so you can’t move away. he’s smirking at you as he answers, “shoto, what is it?”
you can’t hear his brother over the phone. you can only guess snippets of the conversation from touya’s end.
“huh.”
“what for?”
“you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”
“yeah, yeah, whatever.”
when he finally puts it down, he pulls you close by the chin, a glint of mischief in his grin. “get ready, doll.”
“huh? for what?”
touya gives you a peck on the lips. “family’s visiting, a surprise or whatever. they’re already in the city.”
you blink, praying he’s not being serious and wishing it’s not what you’re thinking. “okay, have fun!”
“and where do you think you’re going?” touya laughs, pulling you back down after you barely got back up.
“go spend some time with them, it’ll be fun.”
“oh i’m sure it’ll be fun,” he smirks, typing something into his phone and sending the message before you can sneak a peek.
you’re almost too scared to ask. but you do. “and why’s that?”
touya chuckles, thinking you’re way too stubborn, playing dumb even if it’ll kill you. but he guesses it’s fine if he has to spell it out for you. “because i wanna re-introduce you.”
“wait, what do you mean?”
with a gentle smile and a poke on your forehead, he looks you in the eyes. “i’m gonna introduce them to my future wife.”
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occamstfs · 8 months ago
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Diet Diaries
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Hi all! Thank you so much for 500 followers! Here's a little style switch up to celebrate, got a lotta refs in this one and I quite leaned into the diary entries so I hope it's not too much! Hope y'all enjoy this stereotype reversal and as always, best! -Occam
Monday March 21st-
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Andy:
I am beyond sick of Steve. Moving in together was a mistake, I don’t care how cheap the rent is, he is a narcissistic slob and I am eager to never see him again. Well no, I shouldn’t get ahead of myself. Our R.A. had this idea to try and walk in each other's shoes, which I don’t know? It might not be the worst thing? My big idea was switching diets actually- honestly I’m just hoping if he ate more like me he’ll stop stinking up the dorm. I can dream at least. Literally though he just can’t go to the gym as often if he eats like me. If I'm lucky at the very least his deodorant will last longer, I cannot take another day of his b.o. seeping through the walls, ugh! Anyway, wish me luck! I’m sure this will be a breeze for me, he usually just eats junk anyway, hope he enjoys my salads~
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Steve:
Andy that little fucker. He was being such a little bitch to James and now I’ve gotta eat his rabbit food for a week or lose this bet or whatever. Steve don’t lose tho. Lil twink’s gotta eat whatever I make him too and you can bet your ass I’m gonna make him match my macros if I’ve gotta starve myself like he wants. Fuck! This shit is going to absolutely tank my routine! I’ve gotta make Andy give up. I’m gonna go so hard on him he’ll have to hit weights if he doesn't want to blow up like a pig. Maybe then he’ll stop bitching any time I don’t fucking shower every time I get back home. 
Tuesday March 22nd-
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Andy:
My Lord! He is trying to kill me! I don’t know how anyone could consistently eat as much as he’s telling me to. I’m so bloated from all this food.. He looks so smug every time he tells me to keep eating, I’m sure he doesn’t eat like this. He’s just trying to break me but I’m not going to let him win this easy.
Ugh, I feel so bloated my pants are so tight on my waist. I didn’t think meat sweats were a thing but man I am needing to put on deodorant like twice a day now and I’m not even exercising. I will say that now that I’m eating so much, I don’t hate the idea of going to the gym. It’s been a while since I went but I should probably at least hit up the treadmill lest I get even more of a gut- maybe I’ll see if he wants to go tomorrow. This is all just an exercise to understand each other more after all, no need to make it a stupid competition like he wants eh~
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Steve:
Fuck! I am so tired of Andy’s pussy-ass diet. I had absolutely no energy at the gym today, I told all my bros that I was just gonna take it easy but fuck! I really was working my ass off and I struggled to even meet a PR I set last week. It was supposed to be a push day and I didn’t even get a chest pump! Why the fuck am I still going. I’m abso-fucking-lutely not getting gains on his fuckin’ bitch-ass salads and oats.
Eatin’ like a fucking twink and the fucker has the nerve to ask to go to the gym with me tomorrow. I’ll make sure he regrets that >:) Gonna work him like a horse so he’ll throw in the towel! After feeling how sore actually working on yourself makes ya, he might actually learn something. I’ll turn in early so I can go all out and show him what a real man looks like.
Wednesday March 23rd-
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Andrew:
Man! I totally get why Steven eats so much now~ I am absolutely raring to go and get this; He said I could go to the gym with him today! He even seemed like he wanted me to go with him! I feel like I have more energy than I’ve ever had before, I might even try some weights!! I don’t know but I’m so excited! It’s like I can feel my chest and biceps begging me to go and hit some iron haha! Or whatever those “bros” say~ I hope he’s got something good planned for lunch because I fuck Sorry! I just want to show him that I can do all this dude stuff too! I’m a man right? I guess all this protein is making me feel more like a man than usual idk. Either way though I’m ready to go! Hope we have some fun!
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Steven:
That bitch’s fuckin’ fru fru salads are ruining my PR’s for sure! I bet he knew that when he begged me to take him to the gym today, knew it was the only time he could show off to me was when I’m so out of it. And he didn't! Just to be clear I could still wipe the floor with  him even if I’m not at my A-game. Ugh, I do gotta hand it to the little fucker though. I KNOW he hasn’t even really set foot in a gym before but man. Beginners luck my ass, as soon as I showed him a technique he lifted like he’s been doing it his whole life! It’s like I could see his pecs and tris swelling up with each lift. Not that I was staring at the bitch or anything but he’s just I just need this fuckin’ diet thing to end so I can get back to my grind, I guess I wouldn’t hate taking him to the gym more often, would be hot to make a bitch into a bro Fuck! What am I writing, I just need to lift again.
Thursday March 24th-
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Andrew: 
Bro! Weird? Whatever, I am absolutely on fire! Steven’s diet is absolutely killer! I don’t know how it’s working so well but man I couldn’t care less, I felt like a pro in there! My coaches in school would always shit on me for not trying but man! I was barely trying yesterday but I could tell from the look on Steven’s face that I was acing it! I guess I’ll have to admit to him that he is definitely onto something with his macros but man, not until he gives up haha! Man, I need to chill haha, it’s not like I’m any stronger than I was Monday but man, looking at myself in the mirror it just seems like my clothes are just fitting better. Catching on my chest rather than my stomach y’know? I’ve never noticed that there is muscle on my arms before but man the way my sleeves are kinda hugging my biceps mm. I need to chill haha! Can’t use all my energy before hitting the gym again today!
OH! Also totally weird, I’ve had to shave twice this week! Once last night and then again this morning which is so weird! I’m not complaining though, it’s not like I wouldnt look hot with a beard right? Although my face is a little itchy already, my chest too? Whatever though haha! Time to head back to the grind lol!
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Steven:
God!! Andy Andrew is being such an asshole! He’s clogging the sink shaving which I know he would so be on my ass if I had done that. Wait, he did get on my ass for shaving! But it hasn’t been a problem this week, it’s like I’m not even growing stubble for some reason? Probably from not working so hard at the gym, is that how that works? Whatever it’ll be over as soon as this stupid diet thing is. We’re halfway through now. Thank God! Because that fucking twink is starting to stink up the dorm which again!! He was such a little bitch all the time to me about that! It’s like he’s literally stopped using deodorant as soon as he started needing it! He’s never exerted himself in his life and now that his pits are sweating at all he’s suddenly allergic to hygiene, ugh! I saw last night too the fucker fell asleep with his head in his pit too so it’s not like he doesn’t know it. 
It was a little surprising actually, cause I would’ve sworn he was hairless like one of those freak cats but man his pit was as thick as my pubes! Thicker maybe, uh? Man I wish I could get that image out of my head, it’s like the tuft was pushing out further each time he inhaled, man that’s kinda hot? Fuck! I swear this twink-ass diet is making me think like him too. I need to sneak to the gym later, without him. I cannot have him getting ahead even while I’m still on his chickenshit diet.
Friday March 25th-
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Steven:
Ah!! That Little bitch! He was already at the gym when I got there! Ugh! It makes me want to punch a wall, or fight him. Or something I dont know! It’s just, he was lifting my body weight on the bench when he saw me, it was so ho ugh! It doesn’t matter what it was, I can’t stop thinking of that smug look on his face- what I would give to wipe it off… That absolute prick knew what he was doing. Ugh, speaking of pricks! He may as well have not been wearing shorts at all by how much his cock was showing through them.
I knew my meal prepping was fucking tight but man, I can’t believe hot its made him. It just really fucking turns me on, or no its such a turn on for chicks. Yeah. Whatever. I need this bet to end already. Clearly he’s totally obsessed with my lifestyle so he should just admit it already! Also, hate to say it, but to Andrew’s credit his diet ain't too bad either. I’d never tell him this, and it is all a little emasculating but my skin has never looked this good. I’m not even doing skincare or anything but it’s like I’ve been on a routine for years, it’s crazy! It’s still ruining my upper gains but man, my ass looks so good it's crazy..
Oh also re: facial hair, I woke up this morning and could’ve sworn I used to have chest hair but now it looks like I’ve got just a little left around my nipples and leading up from my pubes? I might go ahead and shave those too, might as well be totally smooth like a chick right haha, I wonder what Andrew would think? I need to chill haha, maybe I’ll go see if he’s still at the gym~
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Andrew:
Fuuuuck dude lol. I should’ve started hitting up the gym ages ago. Don’t know what I was even wasting time on before I started doing twice-a-days? Studying I guess but I can figure that shit stuff out hm. Fuck it is so much better to be strong than a dweeb. Every set it feels like I’m just busting out new PR’s! Gonna need to buy new clothes though cause I am absolutely tearing up my crop tops, my twinky little wardrobe just isn’t cutting it anymore. Maybe Steven’d be down for a clothes swap, I’ve seen him eying up my fits all week, god knows he’ll fit them better lol. Oh haha, and speaking of him eying things up >:) You should’ve seen his little face blush when he walked into the gym this morning! He looked so pissed at me lol, but I’m not gonna grab him to come along every time I need to get some sets in right? It was pretty embarrassing for him yesterday anyway, the way I showed him up lol. I’m not just gonna sit around and watch him not lift weights when I can figure this shit out myself, thought it was supposed to be his thing though lol.
Mm, saying that though, I def didn’t hate having a little audience from his treadmill. God, his blushing face as he stared directly at my work-out chub. Fuck, it really got me going. It really helped my sets too haha. Maybe I should hit him up lol, I can tell how bad he wants me >:)
Saturday March 26th-
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Stevie:
Ugh! That douche is walking around the dorm completely shirtless! Do you know what it’s like to have an oaf flexing away across the room from you 24/7! He knows what he’s doing, and thank god my dick isn’t showing through my shorts like I thought it usually does because he might literally pounce on me then-
Ugh! I didn’t even mention this morning. I literally woke up to him jacking off his morning wood! Do you know what a bitch-fit he would have thrown if I did that! He would’ve filed a police report, probably the dweeb, or. I guess I could too?? But it was just so fucking hot. I tried to pretend I was asleep, but he totally caught me. He literally smirked and made eye contact as he finished too- thank god he didn’t see my boner as he asked if I wanted to clean up his mess. He’s such an ass! 
I still have a boner now actually, it’s his B.O. driving me actually crazy! It’s like I can’t think near him if he’s going to stink this bad god.. Oh, he’s doing pullups on the door frame fuck. He’s supposed to be hairless but I see sweat dripping from his pits god I can't. God with each pull up his chest looks even more powerful. His cock is bobbing up and down in his pants and I can not look away. Fuck it’s getting even bigger. I’m supposed to be the strong one right? It’s not, fuck. This isn’t right. He just so fucking, god that body, I need him-
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And Drew:
Heh. I knew that fucking twink couldn’t resist me. Every little thing I do wraps him even tighter around my finger. Every flex and smirk turns him on even more I bet he can’t even think straight the way his little dick is losing it in his briefs- I took all his jocks since I’m sure he would need them anymore. Bet the little bitch didn’t even remember they were his.  
Might as well have been drooling when he saw me jacking my cock this morning lol, surprised he didn’t take me up on the offer to lick up the mess. I know he wanted to lol. He’ll get the chance soon enough though >:) God it’s a two-way street though. That fucking twink is so fuckable now, thank god he doesn’t need to shave anymore, don’t want his peachfuzz scratching my cock cause god that mouth is so fuckable now.. To say nothing of his fucking juicy ass, god! I’ve been working out in the room all morning waiting for him to give in and ask me to fuck him, idk if I can hold it in much longer. I might need to jack it again, my balls are bluer than I ever thought they could be, fuck. It’s like they're sore. Ugh I feel them getting heavier, heh, that little fucker cant resist though. God I feel precum starting to pool in my jock. If I put my pit within a foot of his face I give him five before he can’t help but shove his face in. I need to fuck him, but as if I’m going to let him see how desperate I am. Stevie that little fucker. He’ll be riding my cock any second now.
Sunday March 27th-
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Stevie:
Fuck <3 !! He finally fucked me!! God, it was like nothing I’ve experienced before~ His cock was like a beer can and goddd the scratch of his beard as we were making out.. Hehe if I keep thinking about him I might just cum again right now! He can fully toss my body like a ragdoll and I’d thank him ugh! He’s just so hot, and to think he wants to fuck me!! Ah~ I’ll need to keep myself pretty so he won’t get tired of me hehe! Not that it’ll be a problem, I just need to keep on his diet, God who knew it would be this good! I don’t even remember whatever problems we had before all this and I can’t imagine anything better than getting fucked by him <3 Ah! He he~ He’s staring at my ass right now so I guess it’s time for another round! Can’t thank our R.A. enough for this idea, well he he I’ve got an idea for how to thank him, oh! Drew’s ripped off his jock! Wish me luck he he~
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Drew:
My little bitch is so tight, fuck. I’m surprised he can even take my cock but god can he ride it. Gonna have a hard time taking a break from fucking him to even hit the gym. Need to make sure the twink keeps up the diet tho or we’ll have an issue. Be sure to make him come to the gym whenever I do, if not to tighten up then to watch me heh. Won’t hate fucking him in the locker room too. Mm, God his fucking tiny body makes me feel so powerful. And I fucking am. God my bis are the size of his thick thighs, fuck his ass. My cock is straining my jock just thinking about it. His tiny waist ugh, I need my sweaty body over him now. Not like he’ll mind, the horny fucker. Mmm hope he’s ready to take my cock, bet his mouth is already watering heh. Pop my pecs at him and he’ll struggle not to cum on the spot, he better keep it together until I let him though. Can’t be having my bitch blow his load that fast. Thank fuck he’s chilled out finally, though I guess my cock’ll work wonders on anyone >:) speaking of it’s about that time again. Hope he’s ready for some more action, hate to have to find another hole.
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moonstruckme · 2 months ago
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hellooow i love your writing and characterization is so good 🤌🤌🤌 could you write something about james and r talking about their future together and james is like "yess and we'll live in a nice house with two or three little us running around!!" and reader is like "haha thats so cute love but i don't want kids... ._."
Thanks for requesting!
modern au
James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 1k words
You tsk, adding a picture to your pinterest board. “It’s decided. Someday, when we move out of this apartment, I simply can’t live without a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf.” 
“Mm.” James’ hum vibrates on your chest. He’s been lying there for some time, in and out of dozing while you’re on your phone. “I think that can be arranged. I want a fireplace.” 
“You just want to chop up wood.” 
You feel his smile spread against your skin. “And so what if I do?” 
“It wasn’t a criticism. So long as I can come watch.” 
His laugh is a warm puff of air, followed by a soft kiss just below your collarbone. This commences a fascination that involves his lips making a slow, idle perusal of your skin. “Do you think you want a big house?” 
“Not really.” Your attention has been pulled from your screen, the sight below you too adorable to ignore. You thread your fingers into James’ hair. “Too much cleaning. Honestly, if you have any questions you should just look at my pinterest. I’ve got it all laid out. We can make room for whatever TV you want, though, I suppose. Plus a secret tunnel to Sirius’ and Remus’.” 
“Obviously,” he agrees. “Yeah, I’m the same. All I need is my fireplace, you, and maybe a nice backyard for the kids.” 
Your hand stills on James’ head as a heavy weight drops into your chest. 
You’ve managed to evade this conversation, you’re not sure how. You’re not sure why either. Maybe just to make a good thing last, for as long as you could. But you know how much James loves kids. And if you’re honest with yourself, this, the proof that he does expect them one day, has always felt inevitable. You feel like a liar for not bringing it up with him sooner. 
Maybe it worsens your deception, but you keep your tone light as you ask, “Would you settle for a backyard for a couple of dogs instead?”
James gives a little laugh, tinged with bemusement. It makes you feel worse. 
“Or cats,” you say, voice growing smaller. “Or no pets, up to you.” 
It’s probably your obvious unease that tips him off. James looks up at you. You straighten his glasses for him automatically. 
“What do you mean?” he asks, and there’s no accusation in his tone, only curiosity. 
A low buzzing burrows into your ears, not unlike how you imagine it’d sound if you were drowning. 
“I don’t really want kids.” 
James’ face falls, and your heart splinters. 
“You don’t?” It’s like he thinks he might’ve misheard you. 
You shake your head. “I’m sorry,” you say, immediately angry with yourself for apologizing but not angry enough to overshadow your guilt. “I’ve thought about it a lot, and I just don’t. It’s not that I hate kids or anything, I just, I don’t want to have any of my own.” 
“Oh.” The word seems to leave James on a breath, faint and hollow. “Okay.” 
Your eyes burn, and you cannot cry right now but you can’t seem to shut up either. “If I ever did want to, it would be with you. But I just—” your voice fractures “—I don’t want to bring kids into a home that doesn’t want them, even if—if it’s only me that doesn’t. It’s not fair.” 
“No, you’re right.” James’ voice sounds a bit more like him now. He’s nodding, slowly, like he’s still wrapping his head around things. “You shouldn’t have kids if you don’t want them. For you and for them.” 
You nod. Hot tears trudge down your cheeks. 
Wordlessly, he sits up and wraps his arms around your shoulders. James is a really good hugger. Tight and warm, like he’s given and received plenty in his life. You know he’d be a great dad. Any kid would be lucky to have him, someone who comes from a love passed down and strengthened through generations. You’re just not meant to be a mom. 
You hold onto each other tightly, and you wonder if it’s the last time you will. You know in your heart that you’re doing the right thing for yourself, that you should never make such a life-altering choice based on someone else, but right now you’re desperate enough to consider it. You think you might do anything to keep him. 
“I’m sorry,” you whisper. 
James pushes his face into your neck. You think, to your horror, that he might be crying too. 
“It’s okay,” he says. “I don’t want you to be sorry, sweetheart. It’s not your fault.” 
“I wish that I wanted to.” 
“You don’t. It’s okay.” 
You sit there like that for long minutes. When James pulls back, he sets his hands to your face, smiling ruefully as he thumbs away your tears. You choke out a little laugh and do the same for him. You have the urge to kiss his cheek, warm and beloved, but you don’t know if you should. 
“We can have pets,” he says in a quiet, rough voice. “And if Sirius and Rem or Lily or anyone has kids, I can just be their favorite uncle.” 
“You would be,” you say. “Being their aunt would be fun, too.” You study him anxiously. “Are you sure?” 
James’ lies down beside you, seemingly exhausted. “Sure about what?” 
You chew the inside of your cheek. “I don’t know, I guess that you’re okay with this.” 
He doesn’t answer right away, which you appreciate. You want him to think about it. A sigh leaves him, long and heavy. “It’s going to take me a while to get used to the idea,” he says finally. 
“But…for right now, you don’t want to break up?” 
“What?” James turns to look at you. Whatever he sees makes his face soften. “Oh—no, honey, I don’t want that. That wasn’t even…I wasn’t thinking like that.”
“Are you sure?” you ask again, though it threatens to bring another wave of tears. “I know you pictured things differently. I’d get it.” 
“I always wanted all of that with you,” he says, soft and yet somehow firm. “It’s going to take me some time to change how I picture the rest, but you’re not going anywhere. Not if I can help it.” His mouth curves slightly as he holds out his hand in invitation. You place yours in it. He brings your palm to his lips, kissing your heart line. “It’s you and me, yeah?” 
A pleasant feeling skitters up your arm to sit in your chest. “Yeah.”
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oddinary4bts · 5 months ago
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Chasing Cars | ch 6 (jjk)
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☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?
☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters have mature content)
☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff
☆warnings: date anxiety, Sam Hwang, OC had a pothead phase in high school, cursing, probably the worst date of OC's life, alcohol, peach, jungkook is a drunk mess, mentions of throwing up, explicit content: mentions of jungkook and oc having sex
☆word count: 9.6k
☆a/n: in this one, jungkook and OC proceed to be frustrating again :') hope you enjoy haha <3 and thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing, you're the best <3
☆series masterpost
☆add yourself to the taglist here!
☆☆☆☆☆
If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?
Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol
☆☆☆☆☆
Friday, March 1st 
You count the water drops on the vitrine of the restaurant.
One, two, three, though the third joins the second to merge into a single, bigger one. 
It’s all you can do to quell your nerves as you’re surrounded by the low chatter of the other patrons in the restaurant. You’re sitting next to the window, looking at the world outside. It’s unusually warm today, and the snow turned into rain earlier, though you know it will ice as soon as the temperature drops again. It feels like déjà-vu, like you’re stepping back to Valentine’s Day, though the company will be different tonight.
You’ve been avoiding Jungkook, and he’s been avoiding you. In truth, you don’t even think you’ve seen him once since last Sunday. He’d come home while you were eating dinner in the kitchen, and he’d walked in, patted your head, and grabbed a glass of water. When he’d stayed, leaning against the counter and looking at you, you’d asked him what he wanted.
He’d only frowned and said you were weird, and that had been that. 
To be fair, you know what he wanted. Or at least what he deserved. Apologies, that is, for the way you spoke to him at the bar. But you haven’t been able to give him any. Maybe because it pushed him away, rebuilt the true distance between the two of you as if nothing ever happened. It’s safer that way, especially considering how involved you’d already gotten after just a few days.
Then again, you get why feelings would grow so easily with him. It’s the risk that comes with him, the thrill of doing something you shouldn’t do. As a kid, that same thrill had always made you fall more on the bad side, though you’d always been good in school. But did you have a pothead phase in your last two years of high school? Yes, you did.
Looking at yourself today, you think you made it out of it pretty well after all.
You sigh, glancing at the time on your phone. He’s late. You don’t know why you’re surprised he’s late – Sam Hwang has shown time and time again that he cannot be trusted. And frankly, you don’t know why you’re here.
Why after last week’s shit show and what happened last summer, you still agreed to meet up at a restaurant that’s definitely over your budget. 
Another sigh escapes your chest, and you tap your feet under the chair, anxiety spiking through you. You feel foolish and dumb and everything in between, and you’re starting to want to head home when he finally appears outside, heading for the door.
Your heart stops in your chest. As a matter of fact, you think it’s dropped to your ass before Sam makes it to your table, apologizing profusely. He’s dripping water, and you realize he’s walked all the way here.
You do find it in yourself to feel bad for him, just a little bit. Because you’re careful around him, afraid he’ll just hurt you again. 
“Sup,” Sam says as he finally sits in front of you, pushing his long hair back. “Shit, it’s cold.”
You grab your scarf, handing it to him. “Put this on, it’ll help.”
He hesitates for a few seconds, holding your gaze as if to make sure this is not a trick, and then he finally takes the scarf. He sighs in contentment as he wraps it around himself, before saying, “Your perfume smells really good.”
You know. You know because Hoseok once told you the same, and so did Jungkook. 
“Thanks,” you say, looking down at your glass of water.
There’s an awkward silence, as if Sam is expecting you to say anything else, but you can’t find for the life of yourself anything to say. So you busy yourself with looking through the menu, reining in your wince as you notice just how much out of your budget this restaurant is.
“Long week?” Sam asks as he starts leafing through his own menu, though he keeps a careful eye on you the whole time.
You nod. “Had some lab reports for two classes due tonight,” you tell him. “Managed to get them done but they drained me.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t too bad,” he says, laughing lightly. “You’ve always been a smart ass.”
You purse your lips, cheeks dusting with pink. “Thanks.” You clear your throat, meeting his gaze just long enough to ask, “What about you? How was your week?”
Then your eyes fall back to the comfort of the menu, and you try to figure out if ordering an appetizer for dinner would look bad.
“It was great,” he says. “I didn’t have much to do for classes, so I just chilled. Spent some time with Jake and Soobin.”
You remember them. Jake is the redhead you saw at the bar last week, and Soobin is the third male who completed the friend group last summer. There were three other girls, though you haven’t heard of them since you moved to the city.
“Nice,” you let out, offering him a small smile.
The awkwardness expands tenfold after that, and you choose to order the cheapest meal on the menu. It’s pasta, and you figure you can never go wrong with pasta. After you’ve chosen, you still pretend you’re looking though, trying to escape having to face the heavy silence.
A waitress saves you from it by stopping by the table, asking if you want anything to drink. Sam, with his easy smile and nonchalant attitude, immediately attracts her gaze.
“I’ll have a Guinness,” he says. “And the lady will just have water.”
You freeze. You freeze with your eyes shooting at his pretty features. He looks back at you once the waitress nods, scribbling the order on her pad even though you’d assume it’s something easy to remember.
“What do you mean I’ll only have water?” you say.
Sam laughs. He laughs, as if his choosing for you isn’t paternalistic and so out of date. “I’m sure you wouldn’t drink a beer,” he answers, and it’s almost condescending. 
You make an effort of looking around the restaurant, pointedly stopping at a table near you, where the couple is sharing a bottle of wine. “I’m sure we could order wine?” you let out questioningly.
“I don’t like wine,” Sam replies, matter-of-factly.
You widen your gaze, tilting your head to the side. “And that means I can’t order any?”
“Damn, why are you so pressed about this?” 
Because this is not Sam. Or if it is, you do not recognize him. He’d charmed you last summer, whisked you off your feet and made you believe in love at first sight. It seems you were blinded, and it’s really hard to find any charm in the man sitting in front of you.
“Never mind,” you say, choosing peace over war.
But in that instant you already make the decision that you will never see him again. You’ll stay for dinner, though, if only because you don’t want to have spent twenty dollars on an Uber for nothing.
When the server comes back with the beer and to take your order, you realize maybe you should have left. Indeed, Sam orders for you again – a salad this time around – while he orders a steak for himself. You have to do everything in yourself not to cringe as he does so, and you keep an empty, plastic smile on your lips as he starts speaking to you about what he’s been up to since last summer.
And he speaks and speaks. That’s something you recognize in him – the way he can speak so much without you having to say anything. It’s like he’s doing a monologue – back then, you’d loved listening to his voice, if only because you liked the musicality of it. Right now, it’s grating on your nerves, and you keep diverting your eyes to the window, hoping there’s some salvation for you on the other side.
Obviously there isn’t any, and if Sam realizes your disinterest, he doesn’t let it show.
You think he’s on his month of December when the food finally arrives, and you’d thank God if you were religious for the respite in Sam’s spiel. Indeed, the silence is most welcomed, and you eat your salad, trying not to think about the pasta you wanted to order.
At least it’s a decent salad, but you’ll know you’ll have to eat something else when you get home.
“And the funniest part,” Sam is saying when you tune back into the conversation, “is that the girl wasn’t even pretty!”
You widen your gaze. “Oh!” is all you’re able to say. 
You think you see the couple at the table next to yours sliding their gazes to you, and the girl leans in closer to her partner, saying something. You can only assume that she’s laughing at your expense, and you get it.
You would too, if you were seated next to someone having the worst date of their life.
And it’s strange. So fucking strange, because once you would have given everything to be right here, with Sam Hwang. Now you feel like he’s a stranger, like he didn’t kiss you at the end of the night on that first party as if he’d been waiting for you his whole life.
“But her friend was,” Sam adds, and his fork makes a grating sound as he moves it on his plate. “Sorry,” he mindlessly apologizes. 
“No worries,” you let out, with no ounce of emotion in your tone.
Indeed, your social battery ran out while he was on October, and you think now he’s almost caught up to the present. Not that you care – you know you’ll never want to hear about Sam Hwang again as soon as you’re out of this restaurant.
“And you?” he asks, surprising you.
Surprising everyone in the restaurant, you reckon.
“Me?” you say.
“What’s new?”
You let out a small laugh. You can’t help it – it bubbles out of your mouth by itself, and you think it almost sounds a little crazed.
“Nothing much,” you answer. “My classes have been chill, can’t wait to be in med school, and I am starting to have a headache.”
Sam frowns, lips slightly curling in disdain. “Am I boring you?”
You blink once, twice, plastering a fake smile on your lips. “Of course not! I’m happy to know everything that’s happened in your life since you left me alone on the docks last summer.”
You say that at the exact same time the waitress stops next to the table. She gasps, or at least you think she does, and then she clears her throat.
“Would you guys like some dessert?” she asks as she eyes the empty plates in front of you.
“No thank you,” you quickly say before Sam could once more decide for you. “We’ll take the bill.”
He’s shocked. You see it the moment your eyes meet his again. You hope he sees all the ire in your gaze, all the hatred for what he did months ago and for this revelation that he isn’t shit anyway.
“I wanted dessert,” he says once the server is out of sight.
“Well, you can go home and get yourself some,” you drawl. “I’m tired of this.”
“Excuse me?” Sam lets out. “I’m stooping so low for you, and you’re just tired?”
“Seriously?” You scoff, shaking your head. “I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking last summer but you are an asshole, Sam Hwang.”
“And you’re so much better?” he says, laughing bitterly. “You’ve been looking outside this whole time as if you’d rather be anywhere but here. You’re the one that was begging me to hang out.”
You snort. “Oh, did I now?” you say. “I think I remember you asking for a date.”
“Whatever,” he grumbles. “I’m done here.”
You watch him get up, not surprised in the slightest as he throws your scarf at you, and then you watch him leave. He knocks his chair down when he grabs his coat from the back of it, and every pair of eyes in the restaurant turns towards you at the commotion. You just remain seated, trying to not explode, lips stretched into a thin line.
When Sam is out of the restaurant, the girl at the table next to yours leans closer to you. “I was about to tell him to fuck off for you, girl,” she says, and it makes you laugh.
“Man, to think I once had feelings for that douche?” you reply.
She chuckles. “He’s just red flags, run while you still can.”
You look at his chair on the floor, wincing. “Highly doubt he’ll ever approach me again.”
“And I say good riddance.”
You laugh along with her and her partner, and then you get up to right the chair, if only to busy yourself. Because your hands are trembling – you’re not good with public scenes like the one that just unfolded, no matter how friendly the people around you are. So you’re relieved when the waitress comes back, though the price on the bill seems to be laughing at you.
You still pay, cringing at the hole it’ll make in your budget, and then you wish a good evening to the girl and her partner, before heading towards the door, putting your coat on on the way. You stay in the lobby as you order your Uber, and you go through the Instagram stories as you wait.
Jungkook’s story is fourth, and you wince as you notice he posted it less than a minute ago. It’s nothing much though, just a picture of a table filled with beers, and you’re about to skip when something catches your eyes.
It is indeed a table filled with beers. A very familiar table, and you think you’ll murder Jungkook.
You slide in his dms as you slowly feel anger rising in you.
[08:57 pm] You: when were u going to tell me ure hosting smthg at the apt tonight?
Jungkook doesn’t reply. As a matter of fact, you don’t even know if he’ll see, and all you can think is that you need to go home and go fast, just to make sure no one breaks anything. 
It’s not that you’re against having get-togethers at your apartment. As a matter of fact, you’re hosting something with your friends tomorrow, though you’d planned to tell Jungkook tomorrow morning.
Maybe this is payback for not telling him before. For not apologizing, for pretending that he’s just a stranger even though two weeks ago you were moaning under him. 
You push the thoughts away, but they’re like a door you were supposed to pull – they remain unmoving, taking up the whole scene of your mind. They haunt and taunt you all the way home, and you reckon it’s better than to think about Sam Hwang, about the shit-show of the date you just had.
So you cling to the anger rising in you, to the regrets and to the disappointment. Maybe because Jungkook is part of your present, and not your past. Maybe because no matter how much you avoid each other, your paths will always cross. 
The Uber drops you right outside the door of your building, and you thank the driver before stepping out into the cold. The rain has relented now, but it’s already started to turn to ice, so you carefully maneuver to the bottom of the stairs leading to your apartment, doing your best not to fall. You’re successful – not like a similar, freezing rain day, and you climb the stairs to the door properly.
You’re not surprised to find the door unlocked. 
But you’re definitely surprised when you open the door to the sight of five grown men sitting in your living room, with two pretty girls hanging with them. Though music is playing loud enough to burst your eardrums, everyone’s gaze turns to you, and you stand in the open door with a slightly frightened look on your features.
“Peach!” Jungkook bellows.
If he realizes he’s called you by that pet name in front of everyone he doesn’t let it show. Instead, he jumps to his feet, heading to where you’re standing.
“It’s freezing,” he comments as he stops next to you, pushing the door close. 
You immediately smell the alcohol on him, and you cock an eyebrow.
“You’re drunk,” you state.
He flicks your nose. “Astute.”
You don’t know how he manages to use vocabulary like that when he’s drunk. What you do know is that everyone is still staring at you, as if they’re watching the scene unfolding in a movie theatre.
“You didn’t tell me you were hosting something,” you hiss through your teeth, turning away from everyone to focus on Jungkook who’s leaning against the door now.
“Oh, peach,” he lets out. “Sorry. I thought we weren’t on speaking terms.”
Bewildered, you watch as he flashes you one of his iconic grins, the one that makes him look like a bunny, and then he heads back to where he was sprawled on the floor. Right next to one of the girls.
The other girl you know, and she’s currently leaning against her boyfriend. She offers you a bright smile when your gazes meet, waving hi.
“Hey,” you reply as you take off your boots and coat. You put the latter in the closet, before turning towards the living room again. 
The group seems to have moved on to something else, and you watch as Jungkook laughs, eyes crinkling with happiness. You don’t think you’re ready for what it does to your lungs – it sucks the breath right out of them, and you quickly leave to head to your room.
You pitstop by the kitchen first, trying to see if there’s anything to eat in the fridge. You fall on some leftover noodles that are undoubtedly Jungkook’s. You snatch them from where they are, thinking it’s a good revenge for him hosting people over without telling you. They’re almost done reheating when Sera walks into the kitchen, and she beams once more at the sight of you.
“Y/n!” she says. “Haven’t seen you in a long time.”
You offer her a tight-lipped smile. “Yeah, since Tae left, you guys don’t usually come over.”
And it’s true. Except for Jimin, you haven’t seen the rest of Taehyung’s friend group since he left at the beginning of January. 
“It was Jimin’s idea,” she says as she heads to the fridge. She fishes a lemonade from the top shelf, before carefully closing the door again. “We facetimed Tae earlier.”
You nod. “Awesome. How is he?”
“You guys don’t speak?” she asks, and she genuinely sounds concerned.
You shrug your shoulders because you do speak. But ever since what happened with Jungkook, you’ve found it hard to truly speak to Taehyung, to pretend that you didn’t fuck his best friend, so you’ve been trying to avoid him as much as possible. 
Though it might be slightly suspicious, Taehyung hasn’t caught up to it yet.
“We do,” you say, chuckling. “Just not that often.”
She hums. “Oh well. Do you want to join us?” she asks, motioning over her shoulder. “JK said you make for a good Kim substitute.”
You snort, unsure of what you just heard. “What?”
She smiles secretively. “You know what I mean.”
Your gaze widens, and the microwave beeps, startling you. You pull your noodles out of it, wincing at how warm the bowl is. You drop it on the counter, before turning towards Sera again. “As a matter of fact, I actually have no clue what you mean.”
She bursts out laughing, that clear crystalline laugh you have no doubt ensnared Jimin when they met years ago.
“Jungkook just said that you guys hung out during the power outage and that you were chill.”
You wonder if you’ll have to murder him. You reckon you might, and your heart squeezes in your chest as you hope no one actually understood what he meant by that.
“He’s right,” Sera adds. “Each time you’ve hung out with us I’ve always found you fun.”
“Oh,” you let out, and you try to smile, try to act as if you didn’t turn entirely white at her words. 
“So come eat with us!”
And then she’s waltzing out of the kitchen, and you wonder if you should just jump out of the window. Avoiding Jungkook seems like the only viable option, especially when you step out of the kitchen, noodles in hand, to the sight of him with his head in the lap of the other girl. She’s running her hands through his hair while he plays on the Switch, and your heart squeezes uncomfortably.
Unfortunately, Jungkook catches sight of you, and he awkwardly sits up.
“Come here!” he tells you, and everyone’s head once again turns to you. “Wait, are those my noodles?”
You glance down at the bowl in your hands. “Maybe.”
“Stop stealing my food,” he complains, and he gets up, handing his controller to the girl. 
You’re keenly aware of the way her gaze slightly narrows on you as Jungkook makes his way to you. He makes to grab the bowl from your hands, and you turn away from him.
“Nu-uh,” you say. “They’re mine now.”
Jungkook groans. “No.”
And then he wraps an arm around your waist, skillfully stealing the bowl from your hands and raising it over your head. He lets out a victorious cry, and his arm tightens around your waist when you try to reach up.
“If you like my food so bad, just ask me to cook some for you,” Jungkook says, looking down at you.
He’s close. Dangerously close, especially under the eyes of his friends. Of that girl he was all cuddled up with just a few seconds ago.
“What are you doing?” you say through your teeth.
He dumbly smiles, before winking at you. “Making sure you don’t eat the noodles I know I’ll need tomorrow morning for the hangover.”
“Just don’t drink too much.”
His eyes trail to the coffee table. “I think it’s a little too late for that.”
And you know it is. He smells like it, like he’s had too many beers. You wonder how he can look sober even though he drank so much – if you were him, you’d be making a fool out of yourself by now.
“Please, Jungkook,” you say after a few seconds of tense silence, of your eyes getting lost in the enormity of his gaze.
He frowns, and his arm lowers from where he’s holding the noodles up. “What’s wrong?”
You gulp. “I just had a shit date, and I’m still hungry. I just want to eat something.”
He takes a step away from you, handing you the bowl as his frown deepens. He cocks his head to the side, questioningly, and then folds his arms on his chest.
You do your best not to avert your gaze to the muscles on his arms, instead letting your eyes fall to the bowl of noodles.
“Who did you go on a date with?” he asks.
“It’s none of your business.”
“Please tell me it’s not the guy from last week.”
You shut your eyes, sighing deeply. “Jungkook, it’s none of your business.”
“He’s an asshole,” he lets out, a little louder than necessary. “Why would you go out with him?”
You grit your teeth, before meeting Jungkook’s gaze again. “Because we have history. But I promise you that after the shit date we just had, I’ll never see him again. Happy?”
He looks anything but happy, yet he still says, “Yeah.”
“Now, can I go eat in my room while you guys do whatever it is that you’ve been doing?”
You make the mistake of looking at the group in the living room, and you hate that they all quickly look away, pretending that they weren’t watching.
“Why don’t you stay with us?” Jungkook suggests. “To cheer you up.”
You settle your gaze back on him, and he really looks like he wants to cheer you up. He’s pouting slightly, a small crease between his brows as he looks at you intently. There’s a light in his eyes that you don’t want to interpret, not when you hear the echoes of him telling you that you would just pretend nothing ever happened.
Are you weak for being unable to tell him no? Maybe. But you’ll have plenty of time for regrets later.
“Okay,” you let out. “But you should chill on the alcohol, you reek of it.”
He narrows his gaze at you. “Here’s to trying to be nice to you, huh?”
You chuckle, mimicking his expression. “Poor you.”
“You steal my food and then sass me?” he says, tongue pushing on the inside of his cheek. It attracts your gaze to his mouth, and your heart once again squeezes, though this time it doesn’t hurt.
No, this time it makes blush spread on your cheeks, and you feel like you’re starting to burn under his gaze.
“You deserve it,” you declare, and then you’re walking around him to head to the living room. 
He jogs to catch up to you, and once more grabs the bowl from your hands. It almost falls to the floor, but he effortlessly saves the noodles, and then motions with his elbow to the coffee table.
“Jae, clear the table please,” Jungkook says.
The guy – Jaehyun, you think? – obeys, though he grumbles the whole time. The unknown girl ends up helping him, and a few seconds later you’re seated in front of the coffee table, with Jungkook next to you. He sits so close you feel his thigh against yours, though he leans back into the couch, attention shifting to the TV, where Jimin and Eunwoo are playing a riveting game of Smash.
Everyone seems to forget that you’re there, and so you eat the noodles, trying your best not to think about Jungkook next to you. About the way you could easily cuddle in his side with a slight shift towards him…
Treacherous little thoughts. You don’t let them live in your head for longer than a few seconds, perhaps because the spice from the noodles overtakes everything. You wince, glancing at Jungkook, who catches your gaze, light dancing behind his pupils.
“You okay?” he asks as your cheeks burn.
“I forgot how spicy you like your food.”
He grins as you fan yourself. “You’ll get used to it. We just have to build up your tolerance.”
Then he does something incredibly stupid. You think his friends will notice, but they all erupt in cheers as they watch the TV, and Jimin slams Eunwoo’s character off the platform.
Jungkook’s large hand lands on your upper thigh. You’d say it’s possessive if you could produce any thoughts, but your brain zeroes in on the spot where he touches you, and you look down. He seems to realize it at the same time as you, and he quickly moves his hand away, frowning slightly.
He’s cute like this. Lips jutting out in a pout, a crease between his brows, confusion swirling in his gaze. Like he didn’t mean to touch you like that, the act done out of instinct. 
We just pretend nothing happened, no?
His words clang through your mind, and you turn away from him. Eyes falling on the noodles, and you take a shuddering breath in. Your memories provide you with images of you and Jungkook, alone in this living room. Of an attraction that was inevitable, yet now it tastes bitter. 
You’d like to be angry with him. For being so casual about everything, for wanting this over whatever secretive relationship you could have shared with him before Taehyung comes back. Maybe you’re stupid for wanting anything – the longer it would last, the more it would hurt. But as you force yourself to eat the food he cooked, you think the spice on your tongue isn’t really what’s hurting.
No, it’s your heart in your chest. It beats achingly, even more so as Jungkook ends up moving away from you, as if realizing through his drunken haze that he shouldn’t sit so close to you. That even if you tried to be friends, just friends, he’s already fucked you like there was no tomorrow. And during the power outage, it truly felt like there wasn’t any. Like you could just stay in that bubble outside of time.
When Jungkook ends up lying back with his head in that girl’s lap – Lisa, you now know – you pretend like you don’t wish it was you, running your fingers through his hair. You pretend like he’s not there, yet you see him in the periphery of your vision. You hear his laugh, know he smiles, and you wonder, is he just pretending?
Or is he attracted to that girl? You wouldn’t blame him. She matches his doe eyes, pretty features always hinting at a smile. She’s attractive, and you quickly understand that she is Sera’s best friend. Or at least it seems so, because she’s comfortable with the boys, and even more so with Jungkook.
You wouldn’t be surprised if they have history. Or if Jungkook is planning to get with her – hell, if you were a guy, you reckon she’d be the type of girl you’d want to get with.
Yet it hurts. It burns, and you find it hard to focus on the television. Even more so to participate in the conversation, and if someone notices, no one says anything. Perhaps because these are not your friends – no matter how friendly they might get, you’ll always be Taehyung’s little sister to them.
You’ll always be Taehyung’s little sister to Jungkook.
“Hey, do you want something to drink?” Jaehyun says, shaking you out of your thoughts. 
You’re done eating by now, and you just turn to look at him, a startled look on your features. He chuckles at the sight, and you feel your cheeks burning.
“No, all good,” you tell him.
“Careful,” Jungkook says from behind you. “Tae’ll kill you if you speak to her.”
Now, Jungkook’s speech is definitely slurred. He’s drunk – you were aware of it before, but you hadn’t realized just how much. Indeed, when you turn to look at him, you know the bitter expression on his features is one he usually hides behind a mask. 
Just like that you know that he indeed does care, in the weird, twisted way that Jeon Jungkook can care. It reassures you somehow, but also breaks your heart. 
He was there, during the power outage. Did he, too, use it as a way to escape reality? Is he, too, regretting having to go back to normal? 
You like to tell yourself that he does.
“Bruh,” Jaehyun lets out, and Jungkook quickly composes his features, offering a bland smile to his friend.
The others just keep speaking about whatever it is that they’re speaking of now, but you can tell Jungkook is upset. You don’t think it’s jealousy because of Jaehyun – he’s haunted, just like you. 
He stays upset for a while. Drinking in silence, sitting up when Lisa says something to him and him only. She looks disappointed, and her eyes dart to you for a millisecond before she looks away. If she wants to blame you for Jungkook not wanting to cuddle with her anymore, then so be it.
Because you like that she’s not running her fingers through his hair anymore. Like that he sits between the two of you, and you imagine he’s just a little closer to you than he is to her. You’d want him to be – it’s a dangerous thought, much like all of your thoughts when it comes to Jeon Jungkook.
When Eunwoo suggests doing shots, Jungkook plasters a smile on his lips. You see it for the mask that it is, yet you don’t mention it. You long to reach between you and him, to smooth the lines on his brow away, but you don’t do anything. You accept the shot that’s handed to you, and a few minutes later, you let it burn down your throat.
After that, you decide to grab something to drink, only so that Jungkook won’t have to feel alone. Though you highly doubt he’ll realize the silent support that you offer him. 
While you’re still in the kitchen, Lisa walks in, a pretty smile lighting up her equally pretty features. You freeze by the fridge, and she moves closer to you, casually saying, “Hey, how are you?”
You offer her a tight-lipped smile. “I’m okay. You… want anything to drink?”
She looks down at the lemonade you’ve gotten for yourself, nodding once. You hand it to her, and it takes her a few seconds before she grabs it, awkwardness lingering in the air. You take another one for yourself, and then you face her again, hoping she’ll be gone.
She hasn’t moved an inch. As a matter of fact, she’s looking at you pensively, nose slightly scrunched.
“You’re Taehyung’s sister?”
The question takes you aback. You widen your gaze, struck like lightning just hit, and your mouth falls open. You think you must look stupid, so you clear your throat, trying to escape the awkwardness.
“I am,” you reply. “You are?”
“Lisa! Sera’s friend,” she supplies, and she offers you a nice smile. “Something happened between you and Jungkook?”
Straight to the point, then. You’d expected her to circle around the pot, never really fully digging in, but she’s straightforward. You can only admire her for it, even though your heart starts hammering in your chest.
“What do you mean?”
She purses her lips, before chuckling. “Sorry, you probably think I’m crazy.”
You don’t know what to say, so you just remain silent, trying to figure out how to escape the situation. She notices your unease, and she winces.
“Yeah, sorry, I definitely made things awkward,” she says. “It’s just…”
“Peaaaach,” Jungkook yells from the door to the kitchen, and both you and Lisa startle. You meet his gaze over her shoulder, and he frowns, leaning against the doorframe. “What are you guys doing?”
Lisa turns towards him. “Just talking.”
Jungkook cocks an eyebrow. “Well then, why don’t you come just talk with everyone else?”
You stifle a laugh, right as Lisa glances at you over her shoulder. You offer her a tight-lipped smile, and then she shrugs, before walking away.
Jungkook moves out of the way to let her pass, and then he walks in, heading towards where you’re still standing next to the fridge.
“I’m…” he trails off, and he stumbles a little when he stops next to you. “I’m fucking drunk.”
You hear it in his speech. “You want water?”
“Water?” He narrows his eyes, shaking his head slowly. “No, I want beer.”
“Jungkook,” you scold. “You don’t look like you should be drinking more.”
He snorts, and steps closer to you, towering over you. You tilt your head back, though you don’t budge from where you’re standing, effectively blocking the fridge’s door. 
“Move,” he tells you.
“Drink water first.”
He lands a gentle hand on your waist, pulling you flush against him. The sudden motion makes you shriek, and you push on his chest. 
“Let me get a beer,” he tells you. He drops his head next to your ear, and his warm breath tickles the side of your face. “Before I do something we’ll both regret.”
“Listen,” you whisper, and you gulp as his lips ghost on the shell of your ear. “I’m not drunk enough for this.”
Yet when he does it again, your eyes flutter close, and you angle your head to the side to give him better access to your neck.
“It’s hard to pretend when you look so damn good,” he murmurs. “Always.”
“Jungkook…”
He shakes out of it, taking a step away from you. The sudden absence of contact feels like a cold shower, and you gulp again, this time to swallow the lump that was threatening to form in your throat.
“Sorry,” he apologizes. “Wow. You’re right. I need water.”
You watch him as he moves to the cupboard, grabbing a glass for himself. He fills it at the sink, and he drinks it all in one go, as if that simple gesture will be enough to sober him up. You highly doubt so, but you’re relieved as he pours himself another glass, this time leaning against the counter to drink it.
“What was that?” you ask him.
He sighs heavily, pulling at his piercings. “I don’t know.”
“You can’t do that,” you tell him. “Especially not when there are people around.”
That second sentence is uttered in a low secretive tone, but evidently he still hears. He shrugs, tongue pushing against his cheek.
“Sorry,” he repeats. 
He does look apologetic, if not troubled. Like maybe he lost control of himself for a few seconds, and you see it for what it is – you left your mark on Jeon Jungkook. Because there was desire, in his voice, as he held you close to him. Want, in his half-lidded eyes, like you could just step back into that outer world the power outage consisted of. 
But you can’t, and as the sober one, you realize you’ll have to be the one to maintain a safe boundary. No matter how much you hate it.
“It’s okay,” you reassure him, and you clear your throat as you open your can. “You just caught me off-guard.”
He smirks lazily. “Liked it?”
The conversation is taking so many 180-degree turns that you feel dizzy, and you shut your eyes, before taking a long swig of the lemonade. It fizzles in your throat, and though it burns you force yourself to drink and swallow.
You only open your eyes to meet Jungkook’s gaze again when half of the can is gone. And you glance towards the door, knowing you’re betraying yourself when you say, “So what if I did?”
“Pretend, peach,” Jungkook says, and it’s almost condescending. “What would your brother say?”
You hate the reminder of Taehyung, but it does the trick. It douses you, and you escape Jungkook’s gaze by focusing on the tiles on the floor.
What would Taehyung say indeed. You wonder if he’d jump into a plane and come back right away. You wouldn’t be surprised if he did, and some part of you believes it might be the only way to keep Jeon Jungkook away from you for the time being. Because without a chaperone around, it’s only bound to happen again.
Especially when he lets his mask of unbothered coolness go. Like he did just a second ago, making your bodily temperature spike. It’s yet to come down, and you take another drink of the lemonade, hoping that it will cool yourself.
“He’d probably say that he’d kill you, right?” you say, reminiscing about what he said to Jaehyun earlier. 
“Oh,” Jungkook lets out, and he chuckles. “Definitely. As a matter of fact, I think I’m living on borrowed time now.”
You purse your lips. “So let’s pretend, right? Safer that way.”
He nods. “I really am sorry for that,” he says. “I don’t know where it came from.”
“Don’t worry about it,” you reassure him once more. “Just don’t ever do it again.”
“Ever?”
The question is accompanied by a pout, and you hate the way it makes your gut twist. Like butterflies catching flight, treacherous bugs to make you sick to your stomach.
“Stop,” you say, rolling your eyes. “Why are you such a shameless flirt?”
He’s grinning, yet he doesn’t say anything, only shrugging his shoulders and taking a sip of his water.
“What’s up?” Jimin says as he walks into the kitchen. He eyes you and Jungkook, and the safe distance between the two of you, before heading closer. “Is this like a lame roommate-only party the others can’t join?” he jokes, and you step aside to let him access the fridge.
“No,” you answer at the same time as Jungkook.
Jimin snorts. “What’s up with you two?”
“Nothing,” you quickly say, though your cheeks burn.
“Right.” He clearly doesn’t buy it, and he says, “Peach?”
You gulp. “Don’t ask me, he started calling me that last semester because of Mario Kart.”
“She always chooses Princess Peach!” Jungkook quickly adds, and you think perhaps you’re only digging the grave further.
“Last semester?” Jimin asks, and he’s got a knowing smile on his lips. He’s toying with you two, and he’s enjoying every second of it.
“Yeah.”
Your gaze slides to Jungkook as if he has any support to offer, but you think it’s too late. Strangely, Jimin retreats, shrugging his shoulders.
“Whatever,” he lets out. “Why are you drinking water?”
Jungkook motions to you. “She suggested it. ‘Cause I’m pretty drunk.”
Jimin cocks an eyebrow, sending you a disbelieved look. “He’s been drunker than this, he can handle himself.”
“Why are you trying to get so plastered?” you ask, unable to help yourself.
Jimin purses his lips. “Why not?”
Why not indeed. It seems Jungkook only needed that encouragement to return to drinking, and you watch in horrified awe as he drinks and drinks, downing shots with his friends as soon as you return to the living room. 
You’re not surprised he’s struggling to stand on his feet by the time his friends leave. Jimin and Sera linger for longer, Jimin offering you an apology when he realizes the monster he unleashed. 
“I told you,” you say, sighing. “Now I’ll sleep to the sounds of him throwing up.”
Jungkook hiccups, raising a finger. “I’ll have you know.” He pauses, shutting his eyes as he sways. “I don’t throw up.”
“Yeah yeah, Jungkook,” Sera answers, and you stifle a laugh as he glares at her.
“Let’s just get you in bed before we leave,” Jimin says.
“And tell Lisa to stop looking at me like that,” Jungkook tells Sera, speech so slurred you’re not quite sure what he said.
It seems his friends also aren’t sure, because Sera says, “What?”
Jungkook looks at you, frowning. “I don’t know.”
“You’re fucked up,” Jimin says, and he starts laughing.
He’s not faring all that better, and he sways on his feet as he clasps Jungkook’s shoulder. Jungkook loses his balance, but he luckily just falls against the wall, slowly tilting to the side.
“Oh shit.”
All you can do is look at him as he eventually collapses, though he’s laughing the whole time. Jimin follows soon after, and Sera and you just look at them, eyes wide.
“You guys always drink so much?” you ask, directing the question to Sera.
“They do,” she replies, pointing to them. “Believe it or not but Taehyung’s the one that usually gets them not to drink too much.”
You cock an eyebrow in disbelief. “Yeah yeah.”
“I swear!” she insists, laughing that easy laugh of hers. “He only got too drunk that one time last semester.”
“And he threw up in the car,” you reminisce, while the guys do God knows what on the floor. “Hardly see that as a good influence.”
“He’s not,” Jungkook says from the floor, and you look down to see him sprawled on his back, Jimin giggling next to him. “Your brother is an asshole.” He looks serious for a few seconds, and then he bursts out laughing. You just remain silent, and he’s the one to speak next. “Can you help me?”
He does grabby hand motions at you, and you scrunch up your nose as if in disgust. “You can crawl to your room yourself, JK.”
He forces himself to sit up, leaning against the wall, as Jimin does the same next to him. Though Sera folds and helps Jimin after he’s offered her puppy eyes even you wouldn’t have been able to resist either.
“I’ll crawl to your room if you don’t help,” Jungkook threatens.
“Alright, let’s see you try.” The challenge hangs in the air between the two of you, as Sera and Jimin watch the scene unfolding.
Jungkook turns his head in the direction of your room, but then resumes his attention on you. “Too far.”
“Then sleep on the floor.”
“Are you for real?” he asks, and he sounds exasperated.
You groan, rolling your eyes, though you finally step closer to him. “We should have asked your friends…” you trail off looking at Jimin. “Your sober friends to help bring you to your room before they left.”
“Peach, I much prefer if it’s you tucking me in,” Jungkook teases as your hands close around his.
His are clammy, warm, but you ignore it, instead pulling him up. It’s a struggle, Jungkook a dead weight, but soon enough you manage to help him stand. He wobbles on his feet, and you hold onto his arm, trying to steady him.
“I won’t tuck you in,” you say through gritted teeth when he’s finally standing on his own.
You’re about to slide your gaze towards Jimin and Sera when Jungkook cups your cheek, and you think the Earth has stopped revolving around the sound. It stops abruptly, and you’re propelled forward, in those big eyes looking down at you like you’re the only thing in the universe.
You want to hate him. Right now, you want to hate him so bad for telling you to pretend nothing ever happened. Because it’s too natural to lean into his palm, too natural to get lost in his eyes.
How many girls has he ensnared with that sparkly gaze? How many of them have fallen for the trap, only to be abandoned when he’s done playing?
“What are you doing?” you ask him.
He blinks once, slowly, and then turns his head towards Jimin and Sera. Jimin’s mouth is agape, and Sera looks like she’s about to burst out laughing, that knowing glint in her eyes so bright it almost puts Jungkook’s gaze to shame.
“Shit, you’re still here?” Jungkook lets out.
“Not anymore!” Jimin quickly replies, and he tugs Sera towards the door. “We’re leaving. You guys do… whatever it is that you’re doing. We didn’t see anything.”
You move away from Jungkook, and his hand hangs in the air between the two of you for a few seconds before it falls aimlessly at his side. You take a step towards Jimin, calling his name.
He looks at you when he has an arm in the sleeve of his coat, the other one yet to be put on. “Yeah?”
“It’s nothing,” you say, trying to put as much conviction in your tone as you possibly can. “He’s just drunk.”
“Oh.” Jimin laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Sure. I won’t say shit to Taehyung. I like Jungkook’s head on his shoulders.”
You gulp, your throat feeling so dry you wouldn’t be surprised if you’d die. “Who said anything about Taehyung?”
“Isn’t that what you were going to say?” he enquires.
You shoot a look towards Jungkook, who looks like a kid who’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t do. He’s pouting, eyes angled to the floor, and his hands are hidden in his pockets, as if he doesn’t trust them to not touch you right now.
“No?” you let out once you turn back towards Jimin and Sera.
Both of them finally have their coats on, but you think it’s too late. It’s too late – no matter what he says, Jimin will tell Taehyung. He’s a busybody, through and through, and you just know Taehyung’s ought to know by the time the sun rises tomorrow.
You can only hope you’ll be able to weather the storm when it’ll hit.
“I was just going to say…” you start, not really knowing where to head. “Honestly, nothing more than that – he’s just drunk. If you want to tell Taehyung that Jungkook’s handsy when he’s drunk, I don’t think that’ll surprise him.”
Jimin throws you a no-bullshit look, as if he was there during the power outage. As if he saw the way Jungkook held you, and the way he fucked you like it was the end of the world. 
“To be fair, Jungkook is handsy all the time,” Sera cuts in. “Did you see how he was sprawled on Lisa earlier?”
You don’t know why she’s throwing you a lifeline. But you remain silent, not wanting to dig the grave deeper, and you just offer a nod and a tight-lipped smile to Jimin. He does look confused for a few seconds until he shakes his head as if trying to clear his thoughts.
“Whatever,” he eventually says. “I’m way too drunk for this shit anyway.”
And then he’s turning around, opening the door to step outside. Sera watches him go fondly, before turning towards you again. 
“Sorry about that,” she apologizes on behalf of her boyfriend. “He really is drunk.”
“Don’t worry about it,” you reassure her as you walk to the door. You hug her goodbye, before holding the door open for her. “I’ll see you guys around.”
“See you!” Jimin yells from the bottom of the stairs, and you wince hoping you won’t get a noise complaint. 
“Shut up,” Sera hisses through her teeth, and Jimin throws an apologetic look in your direction before his girlfriend grabs his arm, forcing him to follow her as she walks away.
You look at them for a few seconds before shutting the door behind you, and it takes you a moment to gather the courage to face Jungkook again. A moment of you looking at some chipped paint on the door, wondering how it is that the stars aligned to put you in such a compromising position with your brother’s best friend. 
How is it that he had to seduce you, only to walk away like nothing happened after? It makes your blood boil in your veins, and you turn around with ire in your gaze, directed at the man leaning against the wall.
He’s still staring at the floor, his features blank. You wonder what’s going on in that thick head of his. Is he regretting this? Is he realizing that no amount of pretending will ever be enough to cover the fact that you did the irreparable, together?
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you ask him, venom dripping from your voice.
He looks startled, big eyes going wide as saucers as he meets your gaze. “What?”
“Now Jimin’s going to be onto us!” You vaguely motion behind you, before folding your arms on your chest. “I know you’re drunk, but you’ve got to fucking control yourself.”
“Hey, fucking chill out, will you?”
You see red. You see blood red, like a bull and its red flag, and you cross the distance between you and him. He waits for you, lips spreading in a lazy smirk as he leans his head against the wall, only so that he can look down his nose at you. You stop right in front of him, finger pointed towards his features.
“Don’t tell me to fucking chill.”
“Or what?” He tilts his head to the side, the perfect picture of arrogance.
“Or I don’t know, Jungkook,” you drawl, shutting your eyes in annoyance. “Don’t you care that Taehyung might be onto us because of Jimin?”
He huffs a breath, and you open your eyes to glare at him. His tongue toys with his piercing, before pushing on the inside of his cheek. 
“He won’t be,” Jungkook affirms like it’s the truth to the universe. “Why would he? Because we’re hanging out? Nah, we did that even before he left.”
You raise your eyebrows. “Not like that.”
“Like what?” he pushes.
You sigh, fists clenched so hard they’re leaving moon-crescent indents in your palms. “Like we’re friends. You touching me. All that shit.”
“I thought you like when I’m touching you,” Jungkook says, voice dropping an octave.
You stare at him in disbelief, quite at the same time as your heart starts racing in your chest.
“Shut up.”
He raises his hand in defence. “Sorry. It’s hard to help myself when you’re looking at me like that, peach.”
You try to school your features into neutrality, but you don’t know if it works. Don’t know if he can tell that your blood is rushing to your cheeks, threatening to have the effects of his words show on your face.
“Like what?”
“Like you want me,” he murmurs, and a finger of his finds your clenched fist, tapping gently on it. He doesn’t stop there – his digit slowly moves up your arm, and all you can do is stand, frozen in place. “Like you’re mad I suggested pretending that nothing happened.”
You hate him. You really do. You don’t understand how he’s able to say this shit when he’s drunk, but then again, maybe he’s wanted to say it sober, but his inhibitions were keeping him in check. Now, nothing forms a barrier between his mind and his mouth, and the words come forth to taunt you, tease you.
To make your heart race in your chest as you look up at those big doe eyes.
“I’m not mad,” you insist, swatting his hand away. “I agree with the statement. He’s your friend, he’s my brother. We shouldn’t have fucked at all.”
He nods. “See? I knew you saw the wisdom of it.”
Now, it hurts. It almost hurts enough to cut through the blinding anger in your blood, though you cling to the anger like it’s a buoy. You cling to it like it’s the path to safety, and maybe it is. 
Maybe it is, because Jeon Jungkook is danger personified.
So, you roll your eyes, gently patting his chest. “Then stop. Fucking. Touching. Me,” you say, tapping on his chest with every word uttered.
He sucks on his piercing, and you think his gaze has gone darker. It’s clouded with lust, all directed at you. When he looks at you like that, you feel like the rest of the world goes out of focus, like all there is is him.
Which is quite frankly the reason why you need to stay away from him. To never let him approach you again, to never lower your guard with him again. For Taehyung, yes, but also for your heart that’s barely recovered from Sam Hwang.
It’s strange, to think that you started the evening with Sam, only to finish it so close to Jungkook. To finish with so little distance between you and Jeon Jungkook that you fear you might crash in his orbit once more. 
“You’re the one touching me right now, peach,” he says, voice so low it almost sounds like a growl. 
And you are. You’ve laid your hand flat on his chest, and you can feel the racing of his heart under your palm. You make to move your hand away, but he quickly puts his hand over yours, clammy fingers keeping you close.
“Let me go,” you breathe out.
“I really want to kiss you right now.”
His sentence makes you insane. Makes the red spark to life again, and you quickly step away. It’s like you were in a trance – you blink once, twice, and Jungkook appears in all his drunk glory again. He looks at you carefully, the lust fading as he beholds the emotions on your face, the mask you’ve let slip. 
“Don’t ever tell me that again,” you warn him.
“Why?”
“Just don’t,” you insist, scoffing. “You can’t kiss me, I can’t kiss you, we-“
Jungkook interrupts you by grabbing your face and crashing his lips on yours. You’d expected it – you’re the mere comet, and he the star. Though you might have come from Kuiper’s belt, Jungkook has been pulling you in, and there’s no escaping his gravity.
So even though you shouldn’t, you kiss him back. You kiss him back, pushing him back towards the wall. He hits hard, and he huffs out a breath that you swallow as your tongue darts in his mouth. You taste the alcohol on his breath, but more than that you taste him – the inebriating taste of Jeon Jungkook makes your mind spin in no time, and you’re forced to take a step back.
To take a step back and look at his pink lips, now swollen from the kiss. His eyes remain closed, and his breathing is ragged, chest going up and down quickly, much like yours is, too.
“Don’t kiss me again,” you say.
And you walk away. You don’t look at him once before slamming the door to your room shut, hands shaking so hard you think you’ll break. The shaking threatens to take over your whole body, and you almost expect Jungkook to follow you. 
He doesn’t. He doesn’t, and the sound of his door softly shutting is like a flatline, haunting you terminally. Like there will be nothing more after that than the memories of his lips on yours, of his hands tracing the curves of your body.
Though it might be sad, though every inch of your body is craving for his touch, you need to be sane. You need to stop before you both get in too deep. Because, even though you could have him now, even though he’s just on the other side of the wall, the moment Taehyung is back, it would have to be over.
You don’t want to get involved with someone that you’re only bound to lose anyway.
You don’t sleep after that, sleep evading you in favour of your spiraling thoughts. You let them carry you like the tornado that they are – you’re in too deep already. 
What will be left of you when the tornado spits you out?
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