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ahundredtimesover · 6 months ago

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Hold Me Closer | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader (ft. brother Jimin)

Genre/Tags: brother’s best friends au; slight angst, fluff, smut

Warnings: foul language, alcohol consumption; kitchen emergency; eldest child feels, adulting; explicit sexual content (making out, oral m & f receiving, unprotected sex but be safe please!); Seven JK (18+)

Word count: 19.2k

Read Part 1: Hold Me Close

Summary: When you're asked to look after your parents' house and meet them before they go on vacation, you, Jimin, and Jungkook take the trip to your hometown of Busan and relive memories of your youth. While your new relationship has you feeling like a lovesick teenager with all the affection that Jungkook shows you, you're still you - a professional trying to make it in the corporate world, and an eldest child trying not to disappoint her parents. And that turns out to be your undoing, as a little blunder causes a rift between you and Jungkook, resulting in a trip that you might as well have messed up... Not if your brother can help it, though.

Listen to 🎵: Hands Down by Dashboard Confessional

Playlist 🎶: High School Playlist

A/N 1: I know I said I’d be on a break but I reread Hold Me Close and found comfort in this Jungkook 🥹 so I went ahead and wrote this little piece! Whipped and comforting boyfriend JK is what I needed so I hope you enjoy this 💕

Six - the number of work calls you’ve already taken in the last hour, with each one of them lasting one whole song. Jungkook calculates that you’ve spent half of the entire drive since leaving Seoul talking with your boss about some report that he somehow can’t complete without you, which sucks because Jungkook was really looking forward to this road trip with you and his best friend.

You groan after you hang up and the clackity clack of the keyboard continues. He was hoping to hold your hand while he drove and maybe sing with you some of your favorite songs that he put on but it doesn’t seem like those will happen anytime soon. You’re immersed in your work but he guesses you have to be; the sooner this ends, the sooner your focus will be on him and this present moment.

He finds the positive side of it at least. He gets to listen to you explain things - why the numbers are what they are, what targets you reached, and what risks you managed. It’s quite silly but it’s kind of a turn on, hearing you talk about something you know like the back of your hand, pretty much proving to your crap of a boss how good you are at your job and why you’re an asset to the company. You know your shit, and you have a classy way of making sure they know that you do.

Six calls, and Jungkook already knows half of your project report. And perhaps he’ll know more, as the seventh one comes.

You let it ring for one, two, three times, as you hold your phone in one hand while you continue to type away with the other.

“I swear to god, ___. If you don’t pick that up, I’m gonna throw your phone out of this car,” Jimin, who’s comfortably seated in the backseat, growls.

The dramatics is understandable because one, it’s Jimin and two, the constant ringing is a little bit much.

“___, I’m not fucking kiddi—”

“Hello, sir,” you finally answer, then proceed to discuss this month’s analytics and projections for the succeeding quarter.

Jungkook predicts it’s gonna take you another whole song to finish, so he instead focuses on the road and appreciates the clear skies and familiar scenery of the drive to Busan. His thoughts go to how these next several days are gonna go. There’s visiting your favorite spots growing up, going to a resort, staying in to eat and play video games, and of course, cuddling with you in your room, as you and Jimin will have your parents’ house to yourselves once they leave for their anniversary trip in two days.

His musings are disrupted though, when he looks at the rear view mirror and sees Jimin’s annoyed face blocking his view. Jungkook can’t help but laugh, especially when he hears his best friend grumbling complaints just behind him.

“Leave her be, she’ll be done soon,” Jungkook dismisses him. “They sound like important stuff.”

“She’s talking so loudly!” Jimin groans. “I just want to reminisce and sing along to our teenage emo music, Kook.”

Jungkook turns the music off.

“There, I paused it. You can sing along once she’s done speaking on the phone,” he says.

Jimin pouts in response. “You always take her side. You weren’t like this when we were kids.”

“Well, if it means anything, I always took her side. I just never told you,” Jungkook laughs.

“Traitor.”

“I’m literally your most loyal friend.”

It’s a statement that Jimin can’t counter. Jungkook is his most loyal friend. And the most supportive. And the most dependable. And definitely the one who’s never left his side.

When Jimin casually told their group that he likes girls and boys, Jungkook was the only one who didn’t need time to “warm up to the idea.” Jungkook was also the only one who never disappeared whenever he had a girlfriend. He was also the one who never missed a single one of Jimin’s dance showcases in college and professional shows.

And of course, Jungkook was the one friend who took up his offer to drink that Friday afternoon, resulting in that infamous gutter incident - as you like to call it - and his subsequent unemployment and homelessness. While you, his beloved sister, were there to pick up the pieces, so was Jungkook, the way he promised he would after they became friends at 10 years old.

Those months when Jimin was heartbroken and unsure of what he was going to do with his life, his best friend was there to make sure that he wasn’t going to lose his drive and love for dancing. His best friend is also the one constantly cheering him up about this long-distance relationship that he decided to have with Taehyung while others continue to be a skeptic.

Jungkook is that friend, and Jimin supposes he can forgive the other man every time he sides with you.

Jimin is about to complain again when you put the phone down and make one of your restrained cries. He pities you, but it doesn’t change the fact that he wishes you wouldn’t be doing your work stuff while you’re on a trip of what’s supposed to be a mini-break.

“I don’t get why you don’t pick up after the first ring,” he huffs.

“It’s so Mr. Soo knows that I’m not easily available,” you say.

“But you are. You answer it anyway,” Jimin rolls his eyes.

“Exactly, I’m gonna answer it anyway. Might as well make him wait for it because he needs me,” you point out. “It’s bad enough that he’s calling while I’m taking the leave he approved, so I’m just pissing him off. He doesn’t know I changed the prompt to leave me a voice message to an annoying song so he’ll have to sit through it to get to me. I already know it’s getting on his nerves.”

“Ooh, petty. I like that,” Jimin hums.

“I know. I got that from you,” you proudly smile.

“But why are you even working?” He whines, your brother’s tone more of pity than annoyance. “It totally defeats the purpose of a leave. And you shouldn’t be indulging him!”

“Well, Mr. Soo approved this leave thinking that Chul would help him craft this report, which is based on the project that I proposed, only to realize that he doesn’t know shit about it because I wrote everything, and he just took the credit,” you explain. “I don’t want to be doing this, too, but I also just took the chance to show who’s driving the wheel, and it’s definitely me. Plus, I worked hard for that project. Working on the report at least gives me a chance to give myself credit for it.”

“Hmm, I guess you’re right,” Jimin concedes. “Your voice is just so loud.”

“I’m sorry. I just wanted to match his tone,” you say. “But he’ll be in a meeting for the next hour or so and he probably won’t need me again until then. You can turn the music back on.”

“Ugh, thank god,” Jimin groans again. “I missed my favorite song.”

He leans forward and squeezes himself in the small space between you and Jungkook. The proximity causes Jimin to smack his elbow on your face, which you know is intended, considering how much of a brat he is. So you do what you always do - flick the back of his head.

He yells but gets over it once he manages to press the rewind button and plays the song he’s been wanting to hear. You haven’t been paying attention throughout the drive and hadn’t even known what they were listening to, but once the music comes on, a wave of nostalgia hits you.

You take the CD case you see in the compartment and scan the song list.

“Dashboard Confessional?” You read out. “Mayday Parade? Something Corporate?”

You go through 2 other CDs and look at both men questioningly.

“These are literally plucked out of my high school playlist that I illegally downloaded,” you state, given that music streaming sites weren’t a thing over a decade ago. “Why do you have them in CDs? And did you even know these songs back then?”

“Yes, because we listened to your playlist when you weren’t around,” Jimin confesses, earning him a flick on the arm.

“You went through my computer? You were in my room?!” You yell.

“Don’t be dramatic,” Jimin rolls his eyes. “It was a boring room, there was nothing to see. We just wanted your music because they were cool, but I’d never admit it.”

“I’m sure,” you shake your head. “But it was my ex, remember? He was a new kid from the US and he got me into these emo rock bands and I thought they were cool, too. He downloaded them illegally for me and I just jammed to those songs all the time even after we broke up.”

“We know. Jungkook and I could hear it from my bedroom,” Jimin says, “which is why we used to sneak in and listen when you weren’t around.”

“Is that why you put them in a mixtape? So you could listen to them whenever you wanted?” You ask, turning to Jungkook because between the both of them, he’s definitely the one who’d know how to do this.

“Yeah, Kook. Why did you make these mixtapes when neither of us had a portable CD player… but my sister did?” Jimin presses, cocked eyebrow and smug face on display.

You’re looking at him now, and it’s a curious look that Jungkook can’t resist.

“I just thought to put your most played ones in CDs,” he shyly admits, “and uh, planned on giving them to you before you left for college. But I chickened out so I just left them in a box in my room that I brought to Seoul. I’d forgotten all about it until Jimin raided my studio and found them.”

“You… you made me mixtapes? When you were 15?” You ask.

“___, I think I’ve established enough that I had a huge crush on you when I was a teenager,” he turns to you and laughs.

It’s a little embarrassing even if he’s already dating you. It still feels surreal sometimes, as he thinks of his growing up years and how he always looked forward to sleeping over at Jimin’s place and then catching glimpses of you. There were the times when you’d watch movies with them in the living room, and then he’d help you clean up in the kitchen so he could spend more time with you.

That was over 10 years ago and so much has changed, but the admiration he felt for you never dwindled. There was always that image of you looking happy. He kept that version of you in his mind, even when you had your boyfriends. He just wanted to remember your smile, and now he gets to be the reason for it, like now.

“It’s just… it’s very sweet and thoughtful,” you say softly.

“I… Well… I took interest in the things you liked. I guess that happens when you like someone.”

“Told you he’s a romantic,” Jimin nudges you.

Between the fairy tattoo he designed and did on your shoulder, the dinner and picnic dates he takes you to despite both your busy schedules, and the way he holds you so close to him whenever and wherever he can, you can definitely say that Jungkook is a romantic.

It’s only been three months but it feels as if you’ve been dating him for longer, given the overflow of affection he’s been giving you. It’s in the way he always holds your hand and kisses you so passionately. It’s in his encouraging words and the way he spoils you with the littlest things.

It’s refreshing to be with him. He has boyish charms that have become even sexier with his slightly long hair and the lip ring that he recently got. And whatever he’s wearing, there’s just something so comfortably sexy about him that’s both warm and exciting, and you often find yourself swarmed in butterflies whenever he talks about you.

It’s only been three months but it’s a relationship you’re still slowly being open about. Your friends were definitely surprised. Hoseok fell off the couch with all his body movements; Jin spat out his drink; Yoongi gasped, then followed it up with a teasing smirk; So-Hee and Na-eun gushed over how Jungkook treats you, and took the chance to say how he’s gotten more handsome over the years.

You asked them if it was that shocking for you to be dating someone younger - and your brother’s best friend at that - and while they said it was a bit unexpected, what really got them was how different Jungkook is from your exes. He’s not some corporate man with ambitions, they pointed out. His life is less structured, too, given his freelancing career and gig at the tattoo parlor. He’s definitely a lot more laid-back and more casual than they’re used to.

They were short of remarking that Jungkook’s lifestyle isn’t as stable and secure as what you normally go for, and they wouldn’t be wrong. It’s a thought you’ve had before, and something even he brought up because he didn’t want you thinking that he can’t keep up with you. But you’d been the one to point out to your friends that stability can come in different forms. With how Jungkook has been so dependable and assuring, that’s given you more security than you ever thought.

But it’s not something that’s easy to explain. Maybe your friends could understand. They’ve made careers in different industries, after all, with short term jobs forming part of their resume. But your parents are of a different generation and mindset. Stability for them means one thing, and they raised you to want the same thing in the same way.

Which is why it’s already been three months, and you still haven’t told them about you and Jungkook.

“I started young,” he laughs, pulling you out of your thoughts as he takes your hand and interlocks his fingers with yours. “I used to just choose my moments of romance but with you, I’m romantic all the time.”

“Really? Does being a flirt count as being romantic?” You cock an eyebrow.

Because that’s what he is. He likes to tease and call you out when he affects you. He likes to charm and then edge you until you’re pleading for him to do more.

“Definitely! I mean, I’m out here living my teenage dream, you know?” He winks at you. “Not just anyone gets to say that they’re dating the person they had a crush on when they were 13.”

“Oh god, here we go again,” Jimin groans, earning him a laugh from you and Jungkook.

But even if your brother fake-gags at your not-so private displays of affection, you know deep down that he’s happy for you and his best friend. The two most important people in his life found comfort in each other, and he gets to witness and bask in that.

He also gets to brag that it all happened because of him.

You spend the next hour jamming to all your favorite emo rock songs because Jungkook wasn’t kidding - he really did include all of the ones you had on repeat from your playlist. It takes you back to over 10 years ago of playing the music so loud while you’re in your pajamas, jumping on your bed and singing your lungs out. They don’t really remind you of your ex-boyfriend. That was a short-lived relationship that only really had you appreciating the songs he shared and not much more.

Your boss doesn’t reach out to you until a half hour later. He’s taken to sending you messages instead, and when he does, you’re back to typing away on your laptop, to the displeasure of both men.

They don’t call you out this time and instead leave you be. Until, of course, it hinders you from enjoying yourself.

The car has stopped but you’re still on your laptop, double checking figures. Jimin has stepped out after telling you that he’ll throw your laptop in the ocean if you don’t stop, but Jungkook stays with you inside the car. He bops his head and hums to the music that neither of you could barely hear. He picks on his fingers and yelps at the hangnail he pulls out. He opens the window and shoos away a bug, then hangs out his head to feel the late morning sun.

“Kook, you can go out if you’re bored,” you say, your eyes still glued to your screen. “You don’t have to stay with me here.”

“But I want to,” he responds. “I’m not leaving until you do, not when you said we’re spending the week free from work and stress.”

“I just need to get this done,” you sigh, rechecking your stats for the third time and then aligning the table. “I’ll be finished soon.”

“You said that 15 minutes ago,” he points out, not wanting to sound like he’s complaining, although he might as well be.

“It’s just—”

“You’ve done your part, babe. You’ve encoded the figures and cross-checked the targets and objectives. Writing the rest of that report and formatting it isn’t your job anymore,” Jungkook says. “You weren’t even supposed to do those. You’re not on the clock. You’re on leave, and you deserve this break.”

“I hate that I have to work, too, but it’s not something I just can’t do, not when my boss is calling and expecting me to do all this,” you groan.

You see his eyebrows furrow and you get defensive.

“You know what, nevermind. You work solo, you answer to no one, you don’t have to prove yourself to corporate assholes. You won’t get it.”

You sigh once more and return to reviewing the conclusion, but the sudden silence is unnerving. You glance at Jungkook and see the look on his face - it’s not sadness but disappointment, and it’s one you don’t see very often on him.

You’re about to apologize when he speaks, his voice soft and low, as if speaking is difficult for him.

“I work with so many clients on a daily basis, with more than half of them setting deadlines that they don’t even follow and demanding so many things so yes, I get it,” he says. “But I put my foot down when I need to, because I learned a long time ago that I shouldn’t let people walk all over me. I know you’re up against a lot of things and you may feel like your hands are tied but they aren’t. A break won’t hurt you. And you know you deserve it. We deserve your attention, too.”

Your heart cracks at his words. Even more at the way he looks, as you see that all he wants is to spend time with you. He’s been busy, too. He’s spent the last few nights at his studio, buried deep in his projects because he said he wanted to focus on you this week. And you know that he’ll keep his word like he always does. Jungkook is dedicated to his work but he focuses on you when he says he will. You’re the one not loyal to what you say.

“Kook, I’m—”

“Just do what you have to do,” he interjects, his eyes downcast now. “I’ll be outside with Jimin. Come out when you’re done. You like it here, so don’t worry. We won’t leave until you’ve come down.”

Jungkook exits the car before you can say anything. You watch him walk down the stony path towards the ocean.

You hadn’t even realized you’re here.

You’re at Cheongsapo, with the pebble beach just meters away being one you all went to as kids. Jungkook’s older brother used to drive you here during summer, and you all enjoyed the calmness of the place. You used to bet on who would treat ice cream by playing rounds of stone skipping, with Jimin winning every single time. You remember how you and Jungkook taught each other how to do it, and then tag-teamed against your brother so he could finally treat you both that one time.

Whenever you’d visit Busan during your college breaks, you’d always come down here with your friends, with Jungkook and Jimin in tow. You’d visit at sunset and hold out your sparklers, then navigate the terrain at night and laugh about who tripped and slipped on the way back.

Jungkook’s right. You like this place. It holds so many memories of your youth, and you find yourself constantly reminiscing, as you try to recall his place in your life back then.

You mentally smack yourself. He didn’t deserve your dismissal. He didn’t deserve the way you spoke to him. He’s been trying to help, especially with how busy you’ve been these past several weeks. You were supposed to work from home while you housesat your parents’ house but Jimin convinced you to take your untouched leaves when Jungkook decided to come, and then they both called it a mini-break.

And maybe you need it, considering that all this preoccupation with work has caused you to snap at your boyfriend when all he wanted to do was ease your mind.

So you get out of the car and head to him.

There’s a small forest to pass through and a steep staircase to maneuver, but you manage. You look out to see Jimin already throwing stones and Jungkook standing by, reacting to every gliding pebble on the water. You spare a few seconds to admire him from the back, with his plain white shirt and light gray lounge pants, accentuating a figure that has you weak in the knees. His hands are in his pockets and his slightly long locks are in a half-bun, and he looks every bit of comfort in this place that holds so much of your years growing up.

You walk to where he is and wrap your arms around him from behind. He stills but he doesn’t say anything. You savor his natural scent and the way the tips of his hair tickle your face. You bask in the taut figure that somehow softens under your touch. Once you feel him relax a little, you tilt your head and whisper in his ear.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you. You didn’t deserve that.”

He remains quiet and unmoving. All you can hear are the sounds of the waves and Jimin’s cheering from some meters away.

“I just got caught up with work but I’m done with it. It wasn’t right of me to neglect you when I promised I was gonna take a break and spend time with you,” you continue.

Your voice is low and Jungkook could hear your pout. Just a little bit more and he’ll give in.

“You look so hot today and I just want to—”

“Yah!” He whines, finally returning your affection and caressing your arms that are now wrapped around him tightly. “Don’t tease me.”

“Hmm, that caught your attention, huh?” You giggle, lightly kissing his neck.

He shivers at the act, and he laughs at himself for how whipped he is for you, giving in so quickly.

“You know it would,” he huffs, turning around to face you now.

You still have that pout and he just wants to kiss it off you.

“How was walking down the steep staircase?” He asks, knowing that was your only non-favorite thing about this place.

“I tripped on a step but I’m fine,” you proudly smile now.

“You should’ve called me,” he frowns now.

“But you were upset with me!”

“So? Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t help you down the stairs and risk you tripping. You know how those steps are. And the pebbles can sometimes be slippery. You can trip here, too, and— what?”

“Nothing. You’re sexy when you’re worried about me,” you say nonchalantly.

“Ugh, come here,” he groans, pulling you in a hug, one that you fall into immediately. “I’ll always worry about you. And I’ll always help you, even if I’m upset.”

“I know,” you sigh. “I’m sorry again. But I’ve laid off the report now. I told Mr. Soo I shall not be disturbed anymore for the rest of my leave.”

“Good,” Jungkook hums, pulling away to face you now. “Because I really want to know what you wanted to do.”

“Ah, many things, Jeon Jungkook,” you smirk. “But I’ll maybe settle for this first.”

You lean in and kiss him - deep enough to have him moan against your lips, and you suddenly can’t wait until you can do more.

“Oh, my eyes!” Jimin squeals, prompting you to look at him with his arm covering his face.

Jungkook only laughs but you scowl at your brother.

“You’re so dramatic,” you roll your eyes. “You’ve seen worse.”

“And I’ve erased that image of my sister and my best friend swallowing each other’s faces from my mind. Please don’t remind me again,” he groans. “But anyway, are you tolerable again?”

“Yes,” you frown. “I think,” you mutter, turning to Jungkook.

“You’re alright,” he teases, before he wraps his arm around you and pulls you close. “Now Jimin here wants to reassert his dominance as the stone-skipping king. You game for a match?”

“Do I have a choice?” You cock your eyebrow.

“No. So okay, same rules,” your brother announces. “Loser treats everyone to coffee and pastry. We all know it won’t be me.”

“Brat,” you say under your breath.

But he’s not wrong. He dominates and Jungkook ends up losing. The wink he makes tells you he let you win. And though you like to play fair, you won’t lie and say his teasing smirk definitely turned you on.

You spend the rest of your morning enjoying iced coffee while overlooking the beach, then you head to your favorite seafood restaurant for lunch. You go to your usual market for ingredients for the week, including tonight’s dinner that your mother will be preparing. She wanted to cook for all of you before they flew out, she said, and that got you excited.

It’s refreshing to walk through the streets and spots of your childhood and reminisce with your brother and boyfriend. The memories take on different forms this time, as Jungkook tells you things from his perspective.

You remember that one time you scolded them for sneaking out on a school night and then picking them up at an alley with Jin driving you. Jungkook says he liked how caring and understanding you were then; you said you’d cover for them after flicking their foreheads.

There’s that summer when you got your friends to buy from Jimin and Jungkook’s ice pop stand so they could buy these skateboards that neither of your parents wanted to get for them. Jungkook recalls how you complimented his recipe and told everyone he made them so that they’d praise him, too.

There’s that winter when, after your brother’s begging, you had him and Jungkook join you and your friends’ bonfire night at one of your secret beach spots. Jungkook points out that you always made sure that as the youngest ones there, they were warm and well-fed.

And then there were their sleepovers when you’d join them play video games and watch horror movies in the living room. Jungkook gushes at how pretty you looked and how you’d always prepare them popcorn and drinks. He outs you as the one who puts the blanket over him and Jimin when they fall asleep on the couch.

“I tend to forget a lot of things but I remember when they’re about you,” he mumbles as he starts the drive to your house. “It’s just always stuck with me. Please don’t be weirded out.”

You giggle but assure him that you aren’t. You understand him - there are things and people and moments that naturally stick with you, and they’re the ones you hold dear, too.

He was a kid with a crush and his attention was often on you, and you suppose that given how you’d felt comfortable around him then, it was also maybe natural that you’d feel the same way now that you’re both older. It just so happened that he ended up looking as attractive as he did, and that’s just an added bonus.

Jungkook drops you and Jimin home before he drives three blocks away to his parents’ house. He’ll greet them first before heading to your place, he says, excited for your mom’s cooking that he always enjoyed.

It’s been some time since you last saw them. They don’t always drive out to Seoul, only doing so to watch Jimin’s shows, and you haven’t had time to go home, either. Plus, you had an injured brother to take care of, and he’s also really the topic of every conversation you’ve had with them these past months.

And there are no bad feelings there. He’s had injuries and illnesses that had them worried, and you’re pretty much as unproblematic and predictable as any eldest child could get. You think you’re that monotonous or unexciting, too, and you suppose that just meant they didn’t feel the need to check on you as much as they did with Jimin.

But you express your longing once they offer you their hugs. You say how you miss your mom’s cooking and your dad’s baking, which is code for saying that you’ve missed them, too.

You get your stuff to your room and sigh in relief at the comfort it still gives you. Not much has changed between your double bed, your desk, your beanbag, and the large cork board of photos on your wall. You pin the Polaroids from earlier, deciding to keep the ones of you and Jungkook for your place back in Seoul.

You huff this time, unsure how you’ll open the discussion of you dating your younger brother’s best friend to your parents. They’ve known him since he was a kid; they watched him get into all kinds of trouble with their son, and were there for his milestones, too.

Jungkook was always Jimin’s partner-in-crime; they were two peas in a pod who went through everything together. Now it’s you and him and you don’t really know how they’ll take it.

But you brush it off for now and think it’s a conversation for later, or maybe when they come back from their trip. You intended on telling them in person, which is why they’re still in the dark. It’s just a matter of how you’ll say it.

You head downstairs and take in the scent of seafood soft tofu stew. The two boys are already at the kitchen counter, munching on the rolled omelet that they shouldn’t even be having yet. But your mom lets them, as Jimin talks about his new agency and shows videos of him doing some choreographies.

You stand next to Jungkook, who sneakily feeds you. You don’t know why you get flustered at the act, even more when he whispers in your ear.

“So, I finally get to see your room with your permission,” he cheekily smiles. “I promised Jimin a few rounds of Overwatch before going to you.”

You merely laugh and tell him that your dad’s asking him something.

“So, Jungkook. How has work been? Jimin tells us you’ve been getting more projects recently,” your old man asks.

“Ah, yes, uncle,” he responds. “I’m getting more clients and exposure now. It took a while but it’s all going well.”

“That’s good. Although I always wondered why you never thought of joining a firm. Doesn’t that mean a more consistent client base? And better for you financially, too.”

“Well, I get to choose my clients and my projects as a freelancer,” Jungkook explains. “I control my time. And it allows me to take appointments at the tattoo parlor.”

“Oh, right, your hobby,” your dad nods. “I guess having multiple sources of income is the new trend these days.”

Jungkook just hums in agreement, already used to your dad’s frame of thought when it comes to a career. So are you, because it’s often the first thing he picks up on with your boyfriends. Each of your partners just happened to be working in corporate so there was never this line of questioning followed by an awkward silence.

But Jungkook is just your brother’s best friend, as far as they know. You wonder how they’d react once you finally tell them the truth.

You don’t completely fault your dad, though. It’s less about judgment and more about practicality. He and your mom came from the generation that believed survival and security mattered more than passion. They always thought the latter could come later on in life, which is why they opened their own cafe not long ago, at a time when they were already pretty secure. You suppose it’s his way of looking out for you, which is why he’s always been concerned about your partner’s occupation.

The conversation changes, as the focus now turns to your parents and what they’ve been up to. You assist your mom in the kitchen while the men hang around, helping when they’re called upon. Jungkook stands near you, asking if you need him and attempting to feed you with a dumpling this time, but you manage to feed yourself and he merely looks at you in understanding.

Dinner is finally ready and you all head to the dining table. You take the seat next to your mom, across from Jungkook, and he looks at you curiously but you offer him an apologetic smile. You only told him that you’ll tell your parents about your relationship in person, which you planned on doing.

That is, until your parents bring up your friends.

“Sweetie, Jin’s son is so adorable,” your mom chirps. “I saw the pictures on Facebook and the little one took after his father so much. I can imagine how happy he and his wife are.”

The topic of your dear friend and his family injects energy into you. You say how Jin’s been bragging about his mini-me but that the nursery you helped put together looks so beautiful. You were all there when his wife gave birth a few weeks ago and though you’re still unsure about having kids, you won’t deny how much it warmed your heart when Seo-yoon’s tiny fingers wrapped around your thumb. It’s not something you say though, as your mom eventually mentions Na-eun and her fiancé.

“I read that he’s been promoted as Director of their company,” she says.

Your dad pipes in that So-Hee’s new boyfriend is apparently the son of one of his former colleagues, and you’re quite frankly over the conversations about your friends’ partners. The insinuations aren’t lost on you.

“How do you even know these things?” You groan.

“Facebook,” your mom replies. “Of course I’m friends with all your friends. And it’s nice to know how well they’re doing since we don’t get to see them much anymore. You’ve reached that age of settling down, after all.”

“I guess,” you hum, no longer interested in the conversation. Jimin’s roll of his eyes tells you he feels the same. “Lots of good things are happening for them.”

You don’t mean to sound bitter and you aren’t. You adore your friends and genuinely love that things are looking out for them. You’re not the same person from months ago who felt lost and falling behind amongst them. Sure, things could be better career-wise, but you haven’t felt this much security in yourself and your relationship until Jungkook. Explaining why is a different thing altogether.

“What about you?” Your dad asks. “I know we’ve been calling every week to ask about your brother but we haven’t been checking in on you. I’m sorry, dear,” he continues, his eyes softening. “Is there anything new in your life?”

If the earlier conversations hadn’t happened, perhaps you’d willingly hint on the newest thing in your life, which is the relationship you have with the man currently looking at you with his doe-eyes in anticipation.

But they did, and you know mentioning your friends’ partners was their way of subtly pressuring you about being with someone of similar stature. And you’re not really in the mood for that right now.

So you end up doing the stupidest thing you possibly could, and that’s to lie.

“Not really,” you say, hating the prolonged silence that follows.

And as you look at Jungkook across from you, you see his face fall, and you hate even more that it’s because of you.

Your lack of a follow-up prompts your parents to move on. They know that when you’re in the mood to talk, you will and when you’re quite passive, it means you aren’t.

Your mom turns to Jungkook instead and asks him what else he’s up to other than his various jobs and looking after Jimin. He looks at you before his gaze shifts towards them.

“Not much else, auntie,” he replies.

The crack of your heart knows you completely messed up, because if it stings like this, then you know it hurt him even more.

“Oh, is there no one special in your life?” She asks, as she often does. Given that she treats Jungkook as part of the family, she’s lost all filter when it comes to him, too. “I recently met with my friend and her daughter. She’s such a lovely young woman, Kook, she’s brilliant and oh so charming. She’s in Busan for the week, too. Do you want to—”

“Is it time for dessert?” Jimin butts in, not wanting this conversation to continue.

He knows Jungkook wouldn’t know how to turn your mother down, and if he even slightly entertains the idea to appease her, you’d be the one upset, even if you technically put this upon yourself. Jimin already sees you a bit uncomfortable, and if there’s anything he can do to not make this worse for you and his best friend, it’s to be a brat.

“Oh, yes. Your father made an apple pie and some ice cream,” she says. “Let me—”

“I’ll get it,” you offer, standing up from your seat now.

You don’t want to know what your mom’s other propositions would be. You’re sure she’ll find some person’s son to match you with, given that she’s done that a few times after your breakup with Namjoon. You’re also not ready for Jungkook to agree with her about meeting someone, even if you know he won’t mean it.

Which is really stupid because if you’d just told them the truth, then you’ll be having a completely different conversation, although you’re unsure if you’re ready for that one, too. But at least Jungkook wouldn’t look as upset as he does right now, as he’s resorted to picking on his food instead of finishing it, which tells you that he’s lost his appetite and that’s never a good thing.

You go to the kitchen to slice the pie and scoop the ice cream. You do it so slowly to lengthen the time before you’re back there, only because you don’t want to know what else they’re talking about.

You’re in the middle of cursing yourself when you feel the sting of a tiny pinch on your arm, and you yelp in pain and smack your brother’s chest in reflex.

“Ow!” You yell, frowning at the man before you and ignoring your mother’s order to “behave,” even if they’re used to you two quarreling.

“You deserve that,” Jimin scowls at you. “Because what the fuck was that?!”

“I know,” you sigh, glancing at Jungkook who’s trying his best to be interested in what your parents are saying. “I… froze. You know what they wanted to hear, Chim. All those things about my friends’ boyfriends and what they do? I just didn’t want them to compare them to what Jungkook does if I tell them.”

“Why, what’s wrong with what he does?” Your brother raises an eyebrow.

“Nothing. It’s just… you know how focused they are on career stability and shit like that,” you try to explain. “You heard what dad was telling him earlier. I just didn’t want Jungkook to hear any underhanded comments from them and then feel bad about it.”

“And you think denying that you’re dating is any better?” He chides. “That’s literally worse!”

“I—”

“Jungkook knows how our parents are. And after you got together, he already anticipated that they’d question how he’ll be able to sustain your life together once you told them about your relationship,” Jimin explains. “He was ready for it. I doubt he anticipated this…”

You stand there, the crack in your heart getting deeper and bigger as the seconds pass. You hadn’t realized that Jungkook was already confiding in Jimin about any concerns he’d have about facing your parents. You suppose he would, given that you said you’d tell them when you saw them the one time that Jungkook asked if they knew, and you didn’t raise it again after. Living in your bubble together seemed more important, and you’d forgotten to mentally prepare yourself for this conversation.

“Chim, I fucked up,” you pout.

If it were about anything else, Jimin would push it. It’s how you always were, and you’ve reached that point in your relationship where you could call each other out and know it comes from a good place. But he doesn’t want to do this today, not when you’re already sad and guilty and he doesn’t want you to feel worse. He doesn’t want to take sides, even if he’ll admit that you were in the wrong, but he doesn’t want to antagonize you either.

“Hey,” he nudges your arm. “It’s not the end of the world. You’re both gonna figure it out. I don’t know how hard he’ll take this but he’s a really soft-hearted person, so just… keep that in mind, okay?”

You nod, wanting to believe that you’ll be able to fix it.

“And don’t hate yourself too much,” your brother adds. “He’s really, really into you. I just know he won’t be able to resist you.”

You nod again but you think that just makes it worse. You doubt he expected that out of all the people to disappoint him, it would be you. Yet here you are.

You and Jimin return to the table with the plated desserts. You hand one to Jungkook but he doesn’t acknowledge you. He doesn’t meet your eyes either when it’s all you try to do. He peacefully eats his apple pie while you feign interest at your parents talking about their recent weekend at a spa.

When everyone’s done, he helps Jimin clean up. It’s how you know that Jungkook’s considered part of the family, as your parents don’t stop him from doing so, unlike when it comes to other guests or your friends.

You watch helplessly as he washes the dishes, turning down your offer to help. You take the rest of the plates and walk towards him instead, standing close so you could place them in the sink. He just moves his arms to give you space then returns to his task, not sparing you a glance.

You stay with your parents in the dining area to talk about their trip. They leave you with important documents and give you instructions should anything bad happen to them while they’re away, as they always do whenever they go on a trip. Everything is your responsibility as the eldest, they remind you.

They finally go to their room to continue packing and you sit on the corner of the couch where Jimin and Jungkook have just finished watching some video of a guy reacting to other videos. You constantly glance at your boyfriend but he seems to be intent on not giving you attention because he’s not like this - he always wants to be close to you, needing his hand to be touching your arm or your thigh or even your hair, and his pretty eyes locked on you. But not tonight.

You recall how months ago, you avoided him because of what you started to feel. And perhaps this is how he felt then - helpless, unsure, and desperate for you to be next to him again.

You find the tiniest bit of courage and call out his name, hoping he’d at least turn to you this time.

“Kook, I’m—”

“Hey, we should probably play now so we finish early,” Jungkook nudges Jimin’s knee. “It’s been a long day; I don’t really want to stay up late.”

Your brother looks at you in apology as he responds to the man on his left in agreement. They both head up, leaving you rooted in your seat, wishing that Jungkook would turn around to tell you that he doesn’t mean creating this distance, but he doesn’t.

And you wouldn’t blame him. You’d stay away from you, too.

You end up watching Aliens on your own, crouched on your corner of the couch with the large blanket over you. You give up after an hour, once the movie starts getting intense and scary though. There’s no Jungkook to hold you during the jumpscares, or to tease you about your screaming, or to assure you that he’ll protect you from all types of monsters.

There’s no Jungkook next to you but you want him there, and it’s another half hour later when you decide that you’re not going to bed without speaking to him.

You hate sleeping sad and upset. You don’t like ending the day not being on good terms with him. There are so many things you want to tell him but more than anything, you just want to hold him close. He always said he liked that, because even during the times when there’s so much to say or feel, falling into each other’s arms is the easiest thing to do. It says enough. It shows enough. And you’ve both survived misunderstandings and stressful moments by holding each other, and then holding each other closer.

Walking up the stairs and towards Jimin’s room, the nerves kick in. Jungkook has been ignoring you the whole evening and you’re unsure if he’s willing to hear you out.

But you try, as you knock on the door, your heart beating fast when it slowly opens. Your brother’s downcast eyes meet you and you don’t need to say anything else.

He opens the door wider then turns to the man lying on a mattress on the floor.

“Kook, my sister’s looking for you.”

You glance at him, dressed in that black tank top that always made you breathless, but once again, he avoids your gaze. But he does stand up after a nudge on the foot from your brother and walks over to you.

“Can we, uh…” you gesture towards the room just across the hallway.

He doesn’t say anything but he doesn’t shut you out, which is a good thing. You take it as your cue to start walking and you hear his footsteps right behind you.

You let him in then close the door behind him. There’s so much you want to say, like you’re sorry and that you were stupid, that you didn’t mean to deny him but that you didn’t know how to tell your parents, or what you were even nervous about. You want to say that you just want to spend tonight wrapped up in his arms and apologizing in all the ways that you can.

But instead of uttering the words, your throat dries up. Seeing him standing there with that upset and disinterested look on his face breaks you a little. So you reach out, your hands pressing gently on his chest to try to feel him, to be close to him, hopefully to hold him and make your mistake go away.

“Kook, I…” you tremble, trying so hard to find the words.

Jungkook looks back at you, your face nervous and unsure, unlike his that’s probably still painted with disappointment.

He still doesn’t know what to make of your denial. He’s been trying to see things from your point of view all evening, but doing so only in his head because verbalizing them, especially to his best friend, makes it sting a bit more. Maybe Jimin can explain on your behalf but that would just confirm to Jungkook one of two things - that you don’t really intend on telling your parents about both of you for whatever reason he can’t comprehend, or you don’t think he measures up to their expectations and for that, you might just think he’s not good enough for you.

He doesn’t think he’s ready for that, so he shuts Jimin down when he asks. They watched videos earlier to have something to laugh about but he was faking it. He suggested playing a game just so he wouldn’t respond to you calling him earlier but all they’ve done since going to the room is lie in silence.

Jungkook doesn’t want to talk about it with his best friend. And he certainly doesn’t want to talk about it with you. He doesn’t want an explanation right now. It’s not what he wants to hear.

And it seems as if it’s something you’re even struggling to give him, as you stand there quivering, your hands slowly trying to pull him closer to you.

It’s what you usually do when you can’t find the words to express something - when you’re stressed and frustrated, when you want to patch things up after a small misunderstanding, when you want his comfort. And he always loved it when you did. He always willingly gave you that hug and that kiss and those whispers of “it’s okay” and “we’re okay” and “I’m just here.”

But not tonight, not when there’s this unnamed thing that’s eating him inside, and not even you can fix it.

“I don’t… I don’t really wanna do this right now,” he mutters, taking your hands to slowly slide them off him.

The look of hurt in your eyes is one that’ll probably haunt him for a while, but he’ll learn to deal with that. It’s better than talking with you about something that you don’t even know how to express.

This isn’t like him. It’s not like him to be upset at you like this, to not want to comfort you, to not want to be around you. This messes him up, too, and all he can do is step away and walk out.

He doesn’t really wanna be here, he thinks to himself as he enters the room just across, to the surprise of Jimin who half expected both of you to have made up. Jungkook would go home if he only brought his keys and it wasn’t too late to ask his parents to open the door for him.

But his best friend’s floor mattress will do for now. And so Jungkook puts on his earpods and plays whatever music is loud enough to shut out the thought of you until he falls asleep.

In the other room, you lay in your bed in complete silence. You don’t want to cry, only because he’s not there to wipe your tears away. And you don’t ever want to know what that’s like, so you don’t. You keep the tears at bay and force yourself to drift away.

You jerk awake the next morning to your mother knocking on your door. You promised to do errands with her today, so you get off the bed and yell out that you’ll just fix up.

“No rush, dear. I’m still having breakfast with your father. You can join us when you’re ready.”

You head down and eat the pastries that they brought from the cafe. You don’t have much appetite and these will suffice, but your mind goes to Jungkook and how he was craving kimchi fried rice and spam yesterday.

So that’s what you make for him and Jimin. You even prepare iced coffee the way they like it. You’re about to set the dish aside for them to heat up when you hear rushed footsteps down the stairs and you know they’ve woken up.

“Wahhh, it smells so good,” Jimin exclaims as he walks over to the counter while his best friend sits on the table. “Did you make something, dad?”

“Oh, your sister cooked for you and Jungkook,” your father hums. “It’s making me hungry now.”

“There’s still some in here if you want,” you call out, with him responding that he’ll get some later.

You serve the dish in two bowls. You hand one to Jimin and then place the other in front of Jungkook without sparing him a glance.

“Iced coffee is in the refrigerator,” you tell them.

You hear Jimin’s little squeal before he gets them. “Where you off to?” He asks.

“I’m running errands with mom.”

“Make sure you two make it in time for dinner, okay?” Your father says.

“Of course. I can’t miss your steak, dad,” you give him a small smile.

“Good. I prepared meat good enough for five Actually, six. I count Jungkook as two people,” he laughs.

The thought of this comfort and familiarity hurts you because you’re the one who made Jungkook think otherwise. You see him smile at your father’s remark but you turn away when he looks your way. You know he’s still upset and you don’t want to force it if he’s not yet ready to speak with you. You also haven’t gotten over the way he pulled away from you last night, and so looking at him today is a little difficult.

“You’re still joining us at the party, right?” Jimin asks.

Their friend, Hari, whom you know briefly dated Jungkook in high school, is celebrating her birthday tonight. Their group always looked to you as the cool sister so you’re always invited to whatever they’ve got going, and while the three of you talked about attending later, after what you did, you doubt Jungkook would want you to spoil his evening. You’re also not exactly in the partying mood for obvious reasons.

“I’ll pass, Chim,” you respond. “You guys should have a best friend night.”

You go back to your room to fix up before joining your mother to head out.

Back in the dining room, Jimin nudges Jungkook’s knee.

“She’s still playing favorites,” he playfully rolls his eyes as he gestures to the generous amount of spam in his best friend’s bowl compared to his decent serving.

Jungkook just hums, guilt forming that he didn’t even thank you for this because he really has been craving it. Before any of them could say anything more, your father speaks up.

“Your sister okay, son?”

“Uh, yeah? Why wouldn’t she be?” Jimin nervously answers.

“She just doesn’t seem like herself, that’s all,” your old man replies.

“Maybe it’s work. It’s been tough lately,” your brother reasons.

“But she’s more tired and frustrated when it comes to work but that’s not what she is. Maybe it’s a guy.”

At this, Jungkook chokes on his food, and he’s glad your father doesn’t react.

“What makes you think so?” Jimin asks, his eyes flitting to his best friend.

“Hmm, it just seems different,” your father insists. “Or maybe it’s just wishful thinking on my end. She hasn’t introduced anyone since Namjoon. And I wish she would, just so we know she’s moved on, you know? And that the breakup isn’t still hurting her.”

“She has, and it doesn’t affect her anymore,” Jimin confirms, certain of at least that bit.

“Then why hasn’t she introduced anyone yet?”

“Maybe it’s because you really liked Namjoon, and he seems to be your standard so ___ is just probably just taking her time.”

“Well it’s because he’s smart and stable and very self-assured and—”

“Also very much married. And a soon-to-be father,” Jimin interjects, already being protective of you.

He wonders now if this is how your parents talk about him to you, and that you’ve always just protected him from all of it.

“Oh,” your father sighs. “It could’ve been her.”

“But it isn’t and that’s totally fine,” Jimin exclaims. “She’s young and she’s got time. And who knows, maybe that’s not the life she wants, or at least not yet? If you could accept my version of happiness, you should be able to accept hers, too. And what does ‘stable’ even mean?”

“Someone with ambition, with a direction,” your old man explains. “Someone who’s secure and financially capable of sustaining this good life that your mom and I gave you both.”

“Those are all the things she is, too, you know?” Jimin frowns. “And also, I love you, dad, but you’re old. By that I mean your thinking is old. It’s outdated. You think stability is about prestige and money and I get that but… that’s not everything. There are other things that matter to her and if you lessened the pressure a bit, you’d see that. She’s your daughter, don’t you want her to be happy? To be loved?”

“Of course I do,” your father sighs.

“Well then don’t let your version of what a good partner is dictate her life,” Jimin advises. “She’s a grown up, she knows what she wants and how to get it. But she’s also your daughter who doesn’t want to worry or disappoint you. What if she’s found someone who makes her happy and treats her right but she’s nervous of what you’d think because of all these expectations you have of her?”

Jimin’s eyes flit to his best friend again who’s quietly munching on his food but is clearly taking in this exchange. While Jimin still thinks you were wrong to deny your relationship, he at least hopes that Jungkook could understand what was going through your mind and it was all this.

“Well if she has then I’d want to meet him,” your father insists.

“And maybe you will, once she stops feeling the pressure of what she’s supposed to be for you and who she’s supposed to date,” Jimin explains.

“I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right, dad,” Jimin groans. “I lived with her for months and she just… she worries about a lot of things. It would be nice if she doesn’t worry about this. So please, stop with all the projections and underhanded remarks, okay? She sees right through you. Just let her live her life.”

A smile forms on your father’s face. It was never his intention to put all that pressure on you but he supposes you just accepted that it comes with the territory. But he realizes it shouldn’t be. His son’s right - he’s old. He and your mother worked hard so that you and your brother could have a life where you didn’t have to worry about anything, but he supposes the intention got muddled along the way. At least you and Jimin have each other.

“I know you and your sister don’t like to admit it but it’s really touching to see how similar you both are,” your father says.

“Excuse me, I’m cooler and funnier and definitely more talented,” Jimin pouts.

“Maybe,” your old man laughs. “But she’s sat on that same chair, lecturing me and your mom about letting you live your life and now you’re doing the same. She’s your biggest advocate and your biggest protector. It’s just nice to see how you’re the same for her.”

Running errands with your mother has always been your responsibility, but it’s once you’ve hit your late-twenties mark that you’ve come to appreciate it.

You learn a lot about the practical stuff like insurance and emergency funds and inheritance when you accompany her to the bank. You’re also reminded that sometimes you have to spend more to make things last when she drops off her clothes at the laundry service and picks up the bag and shoes she had professionally cleaned. You also remember the important things like buying flowers and leaving them on your grandparents’ graves.

You’ve just left the shopping center after she bought your father an anniversary gift, and her excitement over the satchel and perfume she got him has you smiling. You wonder how differently she feels for him 30 years later, and if this life they have together is everything she imagined it to be.

“Was it hard at the beginning? Being married to dad?” You ask.

“Of course, dear,” she answers. “Because it’s how marriages typically go. Your father and I were together for two years before we got married and it was a big change. You just… learn to consider another person, and you get used to someone always being around you.”

“It’s a good thing you can stand each other then,” you chuckle.

“That’s true,” she laughs back. “You’d be surprised to know how many married couples can’t. But we just always managed. And we had to be on each other’s side, you know? It’s the reason why we’ve lasted as long as we have.”

She looks quite emotional as she says the words and it’s probably because of what they’ll be celebrating soon but she turns to you with a smile.

“Your father’s parents wanted me to become a housewife, a stay-at-home mom who just ran the household,” she continues. “But I wanted to work so I could help my parents, and your father stood by my decision. He saw how working gave him financial freedom and he wanted that for me, too. And we just… worked hard. We fought a lot at the start because we were building our careers and raising a family but we knew it would all be worth it, as long as we stood by each other.”

“Then I suppose that’s what’s important in a partner, isn’t it?” You say. “Being dependable, being supportive, not… not what kind of career they have.”

“Well, a stable career helps,” she points out. “I mean, it’s how your father and I got to afford sending you and your brother to good schools. It’s how we could afford trips as a family and how your father and I can be secure at this age without needing much help from our children.”

“But that’s also because you worked hard, plain and simple. And you and dad had each other and overcame whatever challenges you faced together. You can’t say the same for all married couples,” you push.

“That’s true. I mean, it wasn’t like this during our parents’ time. I guess people had less options then. The world’s changed so much, hasn’t it?”

“It has,” you hum. “Not everyone cares much about their partner’s upward mobility and stuff like that. They want to savor the good life their parents gave them. And because they work hard, too, they just want someone to enjoy it with them. You know, like me.”

There’s a beat of silence as your mother processes your words.

“Is that why it didn’t work out with Namjoon?” She asks, reminding you that you’d only given them a general reason as to why things ended.

“We spent too much time planning for our future that we kinda lost our way,” you explain. “I guess that’s when I realized that I wanted someone to enjoy the moments with, regardless of what they do for a living. And we’ll never know what life will throw our way and I need someone who’ll stand by me, the way I’ll stand by them. You know, cheesy things like that.”

You smile to yourself as you think about Jungkook and his shameless affection that he shows in so many ways. You enjoy the cheesiness but you’ll deny it first before admitting it. But then again, he probably knows already. He pays attention to you after all.

“Well, I suppose that’s why we wanted to give you and your brother a good and secure life, so that you can enjoy it,” your mother hums.

“Exactly. You raised us well, mom. We’re not gonna throw our lives away, however we choose to live it, and with whom,” you assure her.

She gives you a warm smile. She takes your hand at the stoplight and caresses it. Perhaps it’s the assurance you need, too.

You return home to your father preparing the meat for tonight’s dinner. There’s a platter of steak, vegetables, and sausages that he’s seasoning to grill, and you can imagine how happy this is gonna make Jungkook. He always liked it when your dad prepared dishes like this paired with your mom’s spicy chicken soup, and you wish you could enjoy it together.

But you’re giving him space to feel what he feels and you’re doing the same, even if all you want to do is apologize. You haven’t had an issue quite like this, so things are a little unfamiliar to you. You tried to talk to him last night but he wasn’t ready, and you’re unsure when he will be.

You head towards the counter and cut up the vegetables for the soup before slicing the fruits. You’re focused on your task, knowing how sharp the knives are, but it’s at the same time that your brother and Jungkook arrive. Seeing your boyfriend look as good as he does in that denim jacket-over tank top fit is so sinful; it’s a crime you’re not talking that it distracts you, and it’s what causes you to slice through your finger and yelp in pain.

“Did you hurt yourself, dear?” Your mom asks as she stirs the pot.

“Yeah,” you say, placing your hand under running water.

You’re about to ask Jimin to get the First Aid kit from the drawer but Jungkook gets to it first, knowing where it is.

He knows that your brother, who’s terrified of blood, won’t help you, and despite your situation, Jungkook can’t stand not helping. So he lathers an antiseptic once the bleeding has stopped, then he wraps a band-aid around it. Just like him, you focus your gaze on your finger. Or maybe you’re stuck on the way he tends to you. Or the fact that this is the most physical touch you’ve done this past day when you normally can’t take your hands off each other.

He sighs to himself. If he wasn’t so hung up on his hurt feelings, he’d be able to tend to you better. This might not even have happened if he’d just spoken to you last night.

But he shakes the thought away. He’s still upset. But he’ll always want to take care of you; that’s the one thing that won’t ever change.

“Thank you,” you mumble, still not meeting his eyes.

“I’ll do this,” he says, waiting for you to step aside before he takes your place.

“Jungkook dear, do you mind helping me with the glazed potatoes after you finish that?” She asks.

“Sure thing, auntie,” he replies.

You watch him work around the kitchen the way he’s done so many times before, and your heart stings at the sight because you want to be doing this with him, with your parents, in your family kitchen. But it’s not like you could talk to him right now, not when you don’t know how to say what you want to say. So you head outside to where your dad is grilling the meat and help him instead.

It’s not long after when dinner is ready, and you’re seated across Jungkook again. It’s a little tense when you look at him when he looks away, but Jimin thankfully finds a way to keep the conversation light and focused on him.

Your parents insist that both men don’t need to help clean up, and Jimin asks you if you’re really not going.

“Yeah I’ll just… stay home, make sure mom and dad are packed well and just get everything in order for tomorrow,” you say, half lying.

“Gee, you make me look like a useless child,” Jimin pouts.

“You’re alright,” you hum. “You can drive them to the airport tomorrow.”

“But mom asked Jungkook to do that.”

“Well then you could just… make them a card or something,” you shrug.

Your brother sticks his tongue at you and you do the same.

“Fine, we’ll head out,” he announces.

“You guys have fun,” you say softly, glancing at Jungkook before walking towards the sink to do your duty.

You turn to your brother. “Call me if you need me to pick you up. No driving drunk, okay?”

He salutes you in response then heads out after Jungkook.

It’s uneventful after that. You help your parents with last minute packing then have a long shower. You lie on your bed and mindlessly watch some movie on your laptop hoping that you’ll fall asleep soon, and that when you wake up, you’ll find the strength to go to Jungkook and tell him that you’re sorry and that you don’t want to go another day without him.

“Hey, Jungkook. Dance with me.”

Jungkook looks up to find Hari and gives the same answer he’s given the last two times.

“Sorry, I’m injured,” he says.

She raises her eyebrow as if she doesn’t believe him and he can’t blame her; he doesn’t exactly know how to act like it.

“Oh, Jimin. There you are,” she chirps as the said man approaches the table. “Dance with me.”

“Sorry, I'm injured.”

“Great. It’s my birthday and I spot two hot guys in this party without girls around them and they’re fake injured,” she scowls. “What’s up with you two?”

“I’m not in the mood,” Jungkook shrugs.

“I’m babysitting,” Jimin says, gesturing at his friend. “But Mingyu and Eunwoo are right there. Go tell them to dance with you.”

“Fine. I’ll get in line then,” she rolls her eyes then walks away.

“How come no one believes me when I say I’m injured?” Jungkook asks as he munches on the fried chicken wings his best friend got.

“Because you’re a terrible actor. People believe me because I’m believable,” Jimin hums.

“They believe you because you posted all over social media that you hurt your ankle,” Jungkook corrects.

“Yeah but that was like, half a year ago.”

“Why are you even pretending you’re injured? You don’t have to stay with me, you know? Go to the dance floor and have fun. That’s your thing.”

“Well, maybe I’m also not in the mood because my best friend’s sulking,” Jimin frowns.

“Gee, I wonder why.”

“You know my sister’s sorry, right?”

“She’s ashamed, that’s what she is. And I’m just supposed to live with that.”

Jimin sighs as he watches his best friend mindlessly stare out onto the dance floor. Jungkook’s probably trying to rid himself of the image of both of you dancing and kissing and having fun if you were here. He could be making sense of what he feels, or his mind could also just be completely blank right now.

But what Jimin knows is that another glass of whiskey is something that Jungkook shouldn’t be having, so he stops his best friend from ordering another one.

“You might get drunk and then you’ll call or go see her and then you’ll say things you’ll regret and then you’ll hurt her and you’ll get even more hurt and you’ll have a harder time fixing things and then it just won’t stop and you’ll feel stupid because you’re not talking over something you could easily fix,” Jimin heaves.

It’s a lot to process but Jungkook knows that Jimin’s right. He’ll just get too emotional and won’t be able to control himself and despite what he feels, hurting you is the last thing he wants.

So he orders water instead, finishes it, then heads for the door.

“I don’t wanna be here anymore,” he says. “I need to get some air.”

They end up at a park, the one that you used to hang at with your friends in high school. Jungkook knows because he always accompanied Jimin there when you’d tell him where to meet you. It’s peaceful at this time of night and much more beautiful, too. It’s no surprise he keeps thinking that you’re right next to him, with your head on his chest and laughing at his jokes.

“Why is this affecting me so much?” He wonders out loud. “Why am I so hurt and so stubborn?”

“Because she said something she shouldn’t have. But also because you put her on a pedestal,” Jimin answers. “She made a mistake, and you’re free to fault her for it. I mean, anytime someone we care about hurts us, it sucks like hell. But you also have to think that maybe it’s affecting you as much as it does because she’s always been faultless in your eyes and she isn’t.”

The reality is a slap on the face, but one that Jungkook thinks he needs to have. You were everything he ever wanted and these past three months have been a bliss. But now that reality hits and you have to face the pressure that’s part of your life, your humanness is showing. And that’s what he’s always liked about you, isn’t it? The imperfections and the flaws? Now that those are affecting him, it’s affecting him hard, and he’s having a hard time getting over it.

“Maybe once you accept that she’s human and not just the dream you’ve had since forever, then you’ll realize that things like that happen but she never means to hurt you,” Jimin adds. “You can’t think that she does. You learn to work it out by facing it, Kook. You have to talk about it. You have to tell her it hurts and you have to listen to what she says, and then you forgive. That’s kind of how grownup relationships go.”

“Guess I’ve never had one before, huh?”

“Maybe they just didn’t mean enough to hurt you.”

“This means everything, then,” Jungkook sighs, as things get clearer in his mind. “Because I think what hurts more now is not being next to her.”

“Great! Then can both of you patch things up now?” Jimin beams, feeling hopeful. “I hate seeing both of you sad and so stupid. Plus, my parents are leaving tomorrow and you won’t have a buffer anymore. So please just talk.”

Jungkook admits feeling touched. He knows at the end of the day, Jimin cares about him and you more than anyone, and he probably misses being around both of you at the same time. Jungkook does, too, but he misses you the most and it’s only been a day.

“Tomorrow,” he says. “I don’t know what to tell her and it’s late. She might be asleep and—”

“Now you’re just making excuses,” Jimin crosses his arms.

“Well, what if I expect her to be the one to talk to me?”

“She tried but you didn’t want to, remember?”

“That was last night. The wound was still fresh,” Jungkook pouts.

“Oh god. I feel like I’m dealing with children,” Jimin groans.

“Imagine how we felt taking care of you,” Jungkook answers back.

“At least I was just one person,” Jimin rolls his eyes.

“Your dramatics were equivalent to two people though.”

Both men bicker as they walk back to the car. It started to drizzle so they decided to go back to their respective homes. Jungkook could stay over at your place and maybe talk to you if he really wants to but he’s seriously just chickening out over it.

He’s never had to make up with you because none of your previous arguments ever led to you not talking to each other, or him pushing you away. He’s never had to spend a day ignoring you. And now, there’s so much to say and so much to feel but he doesn’t know how to approach it. He’ll need tonight to sort himself out and then he’ll speak to you, maybe after he drives your parents to the airport. Or maybe on the way back.

He drops Jimin off; 30 seconds later, he’s home, too. You’re so close but so far away just like you used to be. But at least this time he knows that when the next day comes, he’ll have a chance to just pull you close and tell you he doesn’t want to be like this ever again.

There’s an incessant knocking on your door, and as you’re about to yell out that you’re asleep, you realize it might be Jungkook. You sit up on your bed and when the door opens and you see your brother instead, your face falls.

“It’s just me, unfortunately,” he says. “Kook’s back at his place.”

“Oh,” you sigh. “Why are you home so early? It’s like, 11.”

“Because after the third girl, his fake injury excuse wore off and people just didn’t believe him. We looked like losers sitting on the table eating chicken,” Jimin chuckles. “So we left after an hour then went to a park and I knocked some sense into him and now he’s not so upset anymore. And I’m here to knock some sense into you, too.”

“I already know I made a mistake, Chim. I’m… I’m so fucking stupid. I just… don’t want him to think that I’m ashamed of him or that I don’t think he’s enough or any of that. I mean I’m—”

“Crazy about him, right?”

“I kinda am,” you smile softly.

“Good, because so is he and he’s hoping you’d go talk to him even if he says he’ll talk to you tomorrow. Don’t waste time anymore and—”

You’re bolting off your bed and putting on your hoodie before your brother could finish his sentence.

“If mom and dad look for me, tell them I—”

“Got attacked by a clown in the sewer.”

You look at him incredulously then realize you’re wearing yellow then you frown.

“Just make up some excuse. I’ll… hopefully be back in the morning,” you say.

“Alright. It’s drizzling though so—”

And just like that, you’re gone.

It takes all but 10 seconds for the rain to pour, and your hoodie and sweatpants are no match for it. You groan at your brother for underselling the weather but then again, you also should be thanking him for telling you what you needed to hear - that Jungkook’s not so upset anymore and that he’s hoping you’d speak to him.

Much as you think you would’ve taken any chance today to patch things up, you also would’ve frozen in front of him. You suppose you needed to know he was ready for you, and if he wouldn’t tell you, then of course, Jimin would. You just really wish he had the foresight to know it would rain this hard but you’re probably asking for too much.

But Jungkook’s place is just a few blocks from yours so you power through. When you get there, you realize that you forgot your phone, so you make the stupid decision of climbing over the short fence and then hitting your cut finger in the process.

You have no time to feel pain though, as the next order of business is getting Jungkook’s attention. But before you can execute your plan of throwing rocks on his window, the front door opens, and you telepathically thank your brother who probably called your boyfriend to alert him that you’ll be arriving at his place wet from the rain.

“___, what are you doing here?” Jungkook asks with worry painted on his face.

“I just… I needed to come and see you,” you manage to answer.

His face softens and you feel the hope bloom in your chest. He pulls you inside by the wrist and instructs you to quietly go up the stairs. You’re at least not drenched but you still got wet, so he leads you to the bathroom to wash up. He tells you to wait as he gets you something to change in, and he returns after half a minute with a towel and a large shirt.

“Cream and band-aid, for your wound,” he says, placing them on the counter. “My room’s the second door to the right, in case you forgot.”

You take him in, in his black tank top and shorts, his tongue playing with his lip ring the way he always does when he’s nervous. You manage to nod before he heads out, and you take a quick shower and then pull his oversized shirt over you.

You quietly walk to his room, knocking on the door first before opening it slowly. It’s a bit dim but seeing him is all you need. After placing your clothes on the nearby chair, you look at him again.

He looks tired and worried. He also looks like he has so much to say but he doesn’t know where to start. There’s a hint of sadness in his eyes but there’s longing, too, and you suppose he’s mirroring how you look. You feel a lot. You also want to say a lot, but you don’t know where or how to start.

So you do the one thing you know often works. You approach him then wrap your arms around his torso. You fall into his embrace as quickly as he falls into yours, as he seems to have the same idea. You hold him tighter and pull him closer. You flush your cheeks on his chest while he buries his face on your neck. You grip his top and he does the same with yours. Your heart beats fast in longing and you feel his own do the same, too.

There’s so much to feel and say but this is all you can do. And right now, it’s quite enough.

You loosen your grip, but only so you could nuzzle his neck while your arms wrap around them. He feels so warm and he smells so delicate and he’s all you need.

“You knew I was coming?” You ask, turning to him

“Jimin said you were on your way without an umbrella and your phone,” Jungkook chuckles. But his face softens as he wipes the lone tear that falls down your cheek. “You’re lucky it wasn’t a typhoon or anything.”

“I had to get to you,” you mumble.

“He also told me he wasn’t subtle in telling you to come here.”

“Well, he did say you wanted me to talk to you. And I wanted to. I just wasn’t sure if you were ready to hear me out and I was… giving you space.”

“Yeah well, I don’t know what to do with that space without you there,” he sighs, his eyes shy and absolutely adorable.

“Neither do I,” you smile. “So, uh. Will you invite me to your bed, maybe fill that space and more?”

“Of course,” he laughs, taking your hand and leading you there.

You get under the covers and once he lies next to you, you scoot closer, hugging him again until you’re laying on top of him. But he doesn’t complain. He just hugs you back tightly, pulling you closer until he’s able to bask in your scent and the warm feel of you.

But despite the relief, you know you actually have to do the talking. You pull away and lay on your side. You take in his beauty and his softness and the way they make you feel like all is right again in the world. Your fingers trace his face, from his nose to his cheek to his lips, and he does the boyfriend thing of kissing your hand - including your cut finger - before wrapping it around his waist. He looks like he’s anticipating your words, too, so you try and hope they’re enough.

“Kook, I’m so sorry,” you start. “I… I have no excuse. I was being selfish and cowardly because I didn’t know how to tell my parents. I didn’t want to deal with what they’ll say about your job, knowing how they are and what they value and I just…”

“That’s for me to deal with though,” he says. “Because I chose this. And I’ve always known how they are but I still chose you.”

“It’s for us to deal with, and I did it so terribly,” you shake your head. “I don’t want you to think that I’m ashamed of you and what you do. That freedom, the ability to create… they’re things they don’t really understand. And I thought I knew how to make them. I just ended up denying us and that was so wrong. I’m so sorry.”

“I… I get it,” he responds, caressing your cheek now. “They worked so hard to give you this life and of course they want to make sure you’re taken care of. And for them, they only know of one way that could happen. I’d be naive to think they’ll just accept that the man who’s crazy about their daughter isn’t some corporate dude with secure employment and upward mobility in his career.”

He doesn’t miss your shy smile and the way you nibble your lip and that just triggers the butterflies in his belly.

“But that’s for me to show them that I can take care of you, and not because you can’t do it yourself but because I want to,” he adds. “I… I wanna be that person who makes things better and easier for you and who makes you happy.”

And who makes you feel loved, he doesn’t say. That’s a conversation for another day, he thinks.

“You do,” you assure him. “And I feel it everyday. You’re good at that, and I don’t tell you enough.”

“I know now,” he smiles, leaning closer to kiss you softly.

You return it but pull away. “Do you forgive me?”

“Of course I do,” he says, falling into the kiss that he gives again.

“Okay. I don’t wanna hurt you like that ever again.”

Your pouty face tugs his heart and he wants to tell you that none of that matters now because you’re back in each other’s arms, and that’ll always be enough for him.

He just hums as he goes for another kiss that’s deeper this time. And when you let him push you to lay on your back as you moan against his lips, his heart soars even more. He’s missed you, and it’s definitely going to be a long night.

He hovers over you now, and he shivers when your fingers graze his neck and then his chest. You open your legs to meet his hips, and the feel of your clothed cunt against him has his brain short-circuiting. He gets in the rhythm of grinding against you while he kisses your lips then your jaw then your neck, his hand now sneaking under your shirt to fondle your breast.

It’s when he sucks on that sensitive part near your ear that you yelp in pleasure, and he immediately covers your mouth with his hand while he giggles.

“Gotta keep it down babe,” he whispers. “My parents are in the other room.”

But he doesn’t stop his kissing and you don’t really want him to.

“It’s not like you’re making it any easier,” you moan as he pinches your pert nipple.

“I’m not and I won’t, but you gotta try,” he smirks before his lips trail downward.

You’re unable to say anything once his tongue swirls around your buds. His hands wrap around your breasts that he praises, that he kisses and licks before slowly letting them go to hold onto your waist this time. He presses open-mouth kisses down your torso, his lips in tandem with your underwear that’s teasingly being removed off of you.

You hear him let out a breathy moan as he spreads your legs wider.

And while you know that this tender-hearted man has a cheeky streak in him, you didn’t expect for him to have his finger against his lips to shush you, knowing what he’s about to do. His smug face turns you on even more, and your breath is caught in your throat once you feel his tongue flat against your flesh, warming it up before the tip of his wet muscle swirls around your nub.

But you go along with his request, biting back your moan, even as your pussy chases his mouth for more.

And it’s what he gives, as he dives in and sucks and bites your clit while his two fingers explore your hole. The cold of his lip ring is a contrast to how hot you feel, and it’s a sensation you can never get enough of. You whimper in silence but you manage to look at him, his eyes closed as he buries his face in your cunt.

“Look at me,” you whisper and he follows, his gaze meeting yours. “Fuu-uuck, Kook. You feel so good,” your voice quivers.

His mouth’s full but yours is hanging open. You cover yours with your free hand while the other pulls on his long locks. He’s enjoying this so much, you can tell with the way he squeezes your thighs and moans against your skin. He follows a pace that has your body shaking, straining in intense pleasure until it gives in. You let out a low scream as your orgasm hits, and he’s right there, riding out your high with you.

He cleans you up with his tongue and then makes a show of licking your essence off his fingers before kissing you again.

“You did good,” he teases, as he caresses your cheek.

You’re about to say that so did he when bucks his hip against yours, and the feel of his hard cock against your still wet cunt ignites another fire in you. He repeats it, and it’s what has you moaning again.

“Fuck baby, I told you to keep it down,” he says, continuing his movements.

You know you can’t help it at this point, not when he’s back to licking your neck and kneading your breast.

“Whatever. Not like this isn’t new to your parents or anything,” you say.

It’s a guess but you doubt you’re wrong.

“What? Fucking a girl in my room?”

“Yeah?”

“But you’re the first girl I ever brought in here,” he cocks an eyebrow.

“That’s uh, that’s kinda sweet,” you reply, your breath steadying now.

“Yeah and well, who gets to say they fucked their childhod crush in their childhood bedroom?” He smirks again. “I can.”

He’s back to kissing you and much as you enjoy this, the itch to feel him in your mouth overtakes you, and you take the chance when he trails down your neck.

“So, can this childhood crush suck your dick?”

“Yes, she can,” he chuckles.

He removes himself from you and leans against his bed frame. You get on your knees and pull off his boxers, salivating at the sight before you. You get on top of him, your damp lips gliding against his hard cock and his mouth drops open, an invitation for you to do what you wish.

With your movements on his hips, you focus on his neck, licking up the smooth flesh and the protruding vein that has him biting back his moan. Then you kiss him, desperately and passionately, as you slowly remove his tank top and rest your hands on his chest.

It’s your turn to trail kisses down his torso now and you give every inch of him ample attention. But when you make it further down, there’s one part of him that deserves so much more. You tease him only a little, stroking his length and kitten-licking his slit, before swallowing him whole and swirling your tongue around and all over his cock. He’s hard and thick and everything you want inside of you.

You hold back a gag while he holds back his whimpers. You stroke him relentlessly so you could watch his mouth hang open and his strained body almost folding in pleasure as his thighs tighten in your hold.

“You like that, baby?” You hum.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good around me. Fuck,” he keens, his voice quivering now.

You let his sounds guide you on how hard and how deep to go, but he’s the one who stops you, as he leans close and captures your lips in a searing kiss. He pulls you back on top of him to slide down his cock and the stretch makes you moan in his mouth.

He’s propped up on his arms for support while you move up and down, loving how he drags inside you in an angle that has your mind going hazy. You wrap your arms around his neck while he pushes upward to meet you, and somehow doing this while trying to be quiet is making the pleasure more intense.

It gets too much for Jungkook and he wants more. He wants to hit your deepest spots. He wants to be as close to you as he possibly can. He wants to swallow your moans and touch every part of your body and pleasure you in every way that he’s able.

So he pulls you off and lays you on your side, sliding back in from behind, with your one leg raised. The angle has you keening, even more when his one hand finds your breast and the other does its work on your clit. He pushes gently then roughly, no longer caring about the odd sounds the bed is making against his wall. He wouldn’t mind making up a reason to his parents if they ask him about it. Right now, all he wants is to reach his peak with you.

Your body is shaking in pleasure and overstimulation but you urge him, wanting to feel his seed inside you as well.

You lick his mouth. “Baby please, I want to feel your cum inside me,” you beg. “I want you so bad, fuck fuck.”

He loves it when you plead to him like this. He loves hearing what he does to you. He revels in the way your body molds into his, the way it aches to be close and to be one with him. His movements continue, and with his unrhythmic pounding against your pussy, he comes. You come right after, caused by his intense fiddling of your clit, and you feel like floating, your body in the clouds of pure pleasure.

But like always, he’s there with you, making sure you safely fall into a bed of hugs and kisses and warmth. He stays inside you as he softens, but his arms wrap around you, his face in your neck as he mumbles words of praise.

“Fifteen-year-old me would never believe this,” he heaves as he turns you over to face him.

You giggle in response.

“You’re crazy, you know that?”

“I do. It’s how I am with you. In the best way, of course,” he smiles his boyish smile, an interesting mix of innocent and cheeky.

“It’s the same with me,” you whisper, kissing his nose. “And 18-year-old me would never believe this.”

You wake up the next morning to the alarm that you set on Jungkook’s phone. Your parents are leaving early in the afternoon and they wanted to prepare breakfast for all of you, and it’s a meal with them that you’re excited and a little nervous to have.

You kiss the chest that your face is flushed against, and this elicits a groan from the man next to you.

“Good morning, babe,” you greet, shifting up to kiss his nose this time.

“G’morning,” he grunts.

“So, uh, we’re supposed to meet my parents for breakfast. And uh, I’m going to tell them about us.”

It’s what prompts him to finally open his eyes, and the softness in them makes your heart burst.

“Okay,” he smiles. “I hope it won’t ruin their trip or anything.”

“It won’t,” you assure him. “I… I tried to get through to my mom yesterday. You know, just telling her the things I value and stuff.”

“Hmm. Jimin did the same with your dad. I guess I won’t be such a disappointment now, huh?”

“Shush, you’re not even that,” you pout. “I think they’ll understand.”

He mirrors your smile and there’s a giddy feeling at finally - hopefully - seeing your parents be happy for you. So you get off the bed and sneak out of Jungkook’s bedroom to go to the bathroom.

You wash up quickly, only to make it to the hallway and find his parents standing there, wide-eyed as they look at you in surprise. You realize you’re only wearing Jungkook’s shirt that falls just above your knees and you try to cover whatever you can with your hands.

“Hi, uncle. Hi, auntie,” you shyly smile. “This, uh, this isn’t how I wanted to meet you.”

“Well, we don’t really mind,” Jungkook’s mother smiles. “We’re just glad you’re here. It’s been a while since we’ve seen you.”

“I know. I, uh, I wasn’t dating your son yet the last time I was here.”

“And that calls for a celebration, doesn’t it?” She giggles. “That boy has had a crush on you since forever. It’s funny he never believed that we knew. He wasn’t exactly subtle.”

“It’s not the first time I’ve heard that,” you laugh back.

You hear a door open and before you know it, large arms are wrapping around your waist and a mop of hair tickles your cheek. Jungkook grunts against your neck as he says that he’s finally awake, and you cringe at his parents’ amused faces.

“Kook, your parents are in front of us. This is so embarrassing.”

“Nah, they don’t mind. They’re cool,” he says.

“Yeah, and my parents aren’t,” you sigh.

“So, I’m guessing your parents don’t know yet?” His father asks.

Your pout prompts him to explain. “Well, the day after you got together, our lovesick son here told our family about both of you. But he said that you haven't told your parents yet so we’ve kept it from them ever since. It’s hard since we see them all the time but we managed.”

“Kook also told us about what happened,” his mother asks. “He was grumpy all day yesterday and we got him to tell us why he was so upset.”

“I’m sorry,” you pout again. “That wasn’t my finest moment.”

You feel Jungkook’s hold on you tighten, his way of telling you it’s all okay.

“It’s alright, darling,” she smiles. “We know how your parents are, and their reasons come from a good place. We tried to make this boy here understand them and you as well. Firstborns carry immense pressure to meet expectations; he just doesn’t get it because he’s the youngest. But it seems that it’s worked out with both of you, and we’re glad it did.”

“He couldn’t resist me,” you shrug, to his parents’ amusement.

“Uh, you’re the one who walked through the rain to come see me,” he reminds you, his head popping out of your neck now.

“You wanted me to.”

He tickles you in response and you’re all laughing in no time. It’s a different dynamic with his parents, as Jungkook always had a very close relationship with them. You saw it as a teenager and now, you get to be part of it, too.

They finally let you go and ask you to have dinner with them tomorrow, and that’s one meal that you’re definitely excited to have.

You push Jungkook towards the bathroom and then return to his room to dress up. It’s shortly after when you’re both walking the few blocks to your house, fingers interlocked as you give each other comfort.

You make it home and once you unlock the door, you can already hear laughter and clanking pots from the kitchen. You head there, meet Jimin’s smug face, and clear your throat to announce your presence.

“Oh, there you are. We were wondering where you were,” your mother says. “And hi, Jungkook.”

He greets your parents and from behind you, you take his hand again.

“I went for a walk… with Jungkook.”

He clears his throat and you backtrack.

“I mean, I, uh, was at his place. That’s where I slept.”

“Oh?” Your parents say at the same time, their eyes looking at you in confusion.

“He’s kinda my boyfriend.”

“Kinda? Babe, I think I’m more than ‘kinda’ your boyfriend,” he exclaims.

Your parents look shocked and next to them, Jimin is laughing in his seat.

“I mean, he is my legit, actual boyfriend,” you correct. “The new thing in my life that I denied is actually him. And the person who stands by me, who makes me enjoy the moments? That’s him, too.”

Their faces soften, and somehow that’s the comfort you need. Perhaps all the talking that you and your brother have done has gotten into them. You wouldn’t be surprised if they talked about it, too.

“Why didn’t you tell us, then?” Your mother asks.

“Because he’s not what you expected,” you sigh. “And I didn’t know how you’d take it.”

“Well, he is your brother’s best friend,” she points out.

“Who’s had a crush on me since he was a teenager,” you explain.

“That’s… not surprising,” your father laughs. “We could tell.”

“Oh my god, Kook. You are not subtle,” you elbow him. You turn back at them. “But I… I didn’t know how to tell you because you expect me to have a partner who’s part of your world, you know? And Jungkook likes his freedom. He likes his art and… he really likes me. And I happen to really like him, too.”

“He treats you well? Makes you happy? He’s someone you can depend on when things get tough?” Your father asks.

He smiles tenderly at you and you feel like crying.

“Yes, very much,” you nod.

“Then I think he’s everything we need him to be. A good partner, I’d say.”

You let out a sigh of relief. This is all you needed to hear.

“We’re sorry if you felt like you couldn’t be honest with us,” your mother shakes her head. “I guess we just needed some reminding of what we want for you and your brother. And well, Jungkook’s shown us his heart all these years. He’s always been a part of the family and he’ll be even more.”

They’re words that Jungkook didn’t expect would get him emotional, and he hugs you from behind just to steady himself. But it’s what makes your mother walk towards him for a hug, and your father surprisingly does the same.

“Alright, I guess it’s fitting to have this family breakfast together,” your mother says.

You all take your seats at the dining table, with yours being next to Jungkook now.

Jimin cheekily smiles. “Well, if this whole dance thing doesn’t work out, I guess I can just be a counselor or family therapist or something.”

“Just don’t call your clients ‘stupid,’” you roll your eyes.

“I won’t. That’s only reserved for you.”

And just like that, everything is as it should be.

You get through breakfast with lots of laughter, as you and Jungkook tell your own versions of the story while Jimin butts in to tell his own. It’s heartwarming to see your parents this way, especially when they tease your boyfriend about his crush on you growing up.

But even they admit that they’ve depended on him all these years, too, and that they don’t doubt his loyalty and commitment to you.

You share a tense moment with him after you all drop your parents to the airport, though. Jungkook has just unloaded all their things and as they hug you goodbye, your father teases.

“Just don’t welcome us home and tell us we're grandparents already.”

Jungkook dry laughs and so do you. That’s another topic for another day, you suppose, and while you’re still unsure of having a family, you just know it’s something you’ll both talk about.

You all get home soon after to wash up. Jungkook’s excited about how you’ll spend the day now that you’re both talking again, and you suggest hanging by the beach and then going out for dinner.

Jimin says he’ll stay home to let you two make up for the past two days and so he could have that online date with Taehyung, and you agree.

You and Jungkook end up having a really good day.

You go to a mall and walk around. He gets you a pair of stud earrings to commemorate the day you went official to your parents and you buy him a silver chain necklace for the same silly reason, but also because he looks really good in one and you want him to have more. It pairs real nicely with the shirt and joggers casual outfit he’s been sporting these past days, and the teasing look he makes after he puts it on reminds you of that one time his necklace was dangling on your face when he was pounding into you on your couch.

You get fruit drinks and snacks at the stalls you both used to buy from as teenagers, then you head to the beach where you lounge until sunset. You wade in the water, splash each other, and then make out when there’s no one around.

You feel so free and light, so young and hopeful. These are the moments you love having with him, the ones you like to enjoy and savor and have more of. And you know you’ll have them for the rest of this trip and when you get back to Seoul.

Jimin joins you for dinner at a burger place, then you all buy cup noodles and beer and head to your favorite park. It’s just like how most of your nights together go, just in the outdoors. You and your brother bicker and Jungkook referees; there’s also the occasional “you’re so cheesy” comment from you to your boyfriend and Jimin’s gagging sound.

You confirm plans for the rest of the trip. Your parents will be enjoying Hawaii for close to two weeks, and you have all that time to rest and spend time with your two favorite people. You’ll be off work. Jungkook has some projects to finalize while you do your own thing, and Jimin will be watching dance shows to get him inspired.

But there are more beaches and parks and villages to visit. There’s also that two-night stay at a resort you’ll be having. There are other sites and restaurants to go to, and you’ll be reliving your teenage years together while making new memories.

You’re now back at home, snug in Jungkook’s arms as he leans against the bed frame in your room, with you in between his legs.

“Today was a really good day,” you say, turning to him after he kisses your cheek.

“Today was amazing,” he hums.

He smiles as he replays the scenes of you shopping for each other, frolicking on the beach, and walking around your favorite spots. They’re all so simple and things you’ve done before but today felt so much more. There was a look in your eyes that held such tenderness and care for him. You held his hand as if you didn’t want to ever let go, as if you didn’t want him to.

“I really like you, Kook,” you mumble, almost like a confession, as if it’s not known. “I don’t know how else to say it.”

His eyes soften, as does his smile that he’s had on pretty much the whole day. But he just looks at you, and though you know he feels the same way, you want to hear him verbalize it again.

“Hey, say it back,” you nudge him.

“I love you though,” he says after a beat of silence.

You’re now the one who looks at him, unable to say a word.

“Are you that surprised?” He looks back at you nervously, nibbling his lip ring. “I mean, I think it’s quite obvious, just like everything I feel about you is.”

“Kook, I…” you try, but you don’t exactly know how to respond.

You don’t doubt his feelings but somehow you can’t help but think that maybe right now, he loves the idea of you and not you, and there’s a difference.

“I think I always have but I guess I didn’t realize just how much until this whole thing happened,” he continues, wanting you to understand what he feels. “I asked Jimin why it was affecting me so much and he said it’s because I put you on a pedestal. You were this dream I’ve had for so long that I admired from a distance and now I get to be with you and you’re… human, not some flawless being who doesn’t make mistakes. So when you hurt me, I faltered. That’s on me, too. Because I… I expected too much. And I’m sorry.”

His focus is on his hands that are playing with yours before he turns to you again.

“I realized that I wanted so badly for you to want me, that’s why it hurt. I wanted to be that person you cared for and trusted and needed because you’re all that for me. And when I saw you at my door last night, nothing else mattered but you,” he continues.

“Whatever misunderstanding or mistake or disagreement, I learned to accept them and I just wanted you, in my arms, so I could show you that you’re all I need. I’ve dreamt of you for so long and this version of you is more than I could’ve imagined. And I just… I love you, okay? It doesn’t matter how you feel. I just need you to know that I do, and I don’t think I’ll stop.”

Your heart is about to burst, and all you could do is cup his face in your hands and kiss him, hard and deep until you run out of air. You kiss him eagerly because you’re desperate for his touch. You kiss him passionately because there are things you feel that you can’t put into words yet, and this is how you tell him.

He’s quick to follow your pace, wrapping his arms around your waist as he helps you sit on his lap. Your fingers comb through his hair and grip his top and pull him closer, all while you grind against him and moan in his mouth.

But when he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and caresses your cheek, you go tender.

“I love you so much,” he whispers against your lips, and all you feel is the warmth of his touch and how it’s all the comfort and security and stability that you need.

You slowly pull away and graze your nose against his. You don’t say anything else and he doesn’t expect you to. But you kiss his cheek and hug him, and you hear him sigh in relief.

He pulls away and cheekily smiles.

“You know, there’s a song for this.”

“A—what?” You laugh.

“A song.”

He pulls away from you then stands from the bed. “Let me get it from Jimin’s room.”

You stare at him questioningly because you really didn’t think he could surprise you even more. He returns with one of his burned CDs and you ask him if he has a sex playlist or something.

“I used to daydream about you to this,” he says, as he puts it in the CD player that your parents got you for your 17th birthday. “I listened to it after that very kiss we had and, well, we’re back home rehashing so many memories and I kinda just want to fulfill another fantasy of mine.”

He plays the song and the first notes get you all giddy and excited and nostalgic and very much turned on.

“This was my favorite song,” you say, as you signal him to come closer.

“I know. You played it all the time, I could hear it from the other room.”

You giggle, and it’s a sound he wants to listen to forever.

“So, what’s this fantasy of yours?” You ask, as you take your shirt off.

He licks his lips at the breathtaking sight of you, but he softens at the fairy tattoo on your shoulder, the one he customized and that you love showing off.

“Just… make love to you while this plays in the background,” he manages to say.

Your face softens, too, and it’s a sight he also wants to see everyday of his life.

“I’m all yours, Kook. Do whatever you please.”

It’s a week later when you tell him.

You’d just gotten back from that short trip to a resort that had you relaxed and stuffed with food. You video called with your parents during their sunset cruise and your father once again teased about not being grandparents yet and just like the first time, you brushed it off.

You’re lying on Jungkook’s chest as you laugh about Jimin’s terrible bowling skills. And in the silence, he asks, “does it bother you that your parents expect you to have kids?”

You knew he’d picked up on it the first time, but it’s just now that he’s bringing it up.

“A little. I try not to think about it though,” you sigh. “It’s another one of those expectations, you know? But I guess it’s a harder thing to talk to them about, that I don’t know if I want kids.”

He just hums and combs your hair with his fingers.

“Does it bother you?” You ask, suddenly feeling nervous. You know enough this is a make-or-break for many people.

“Not really,” he says. “It’s not easy to raise a child, much less carry one, and that’s something I can’t do for you. But I guess, it doesn’t matter. We can have kids. Or not. We can have a dog or a pet tortoise or a fish, really. When I think of a future, all I see is you. The rest is just a bonus.”

He speaks of your future with such certainty. He’s always talked about enjoying the moments but the one version of a future he wants is the one where you’re with him.

“I just want you to know that whatever you’re worried about, share it with me. I don’t want you to worry about me. We do this together. We figure it out together,” he adds.

And just like that, the fears and pressure you feel slowly dissipate. He’s the only version of the future you want. Everything else is just a bonus.

You turn to him with a kiss on his cheek.

“I love you, Kook. I don’t want anyone else to love me, and I don’t want to love anybody else,” you whisper like a plea, just like a promise.

“I’m not loving anybody else,” he kisses you.

And it’s his own promise he makes.

Permanent Taglist:

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#jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x oc #jungkook fanfiction #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook series #brothers best friend au

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sturnmeovr · 12 days ago

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♡‧₊˚ Babydaddy!Chris x Sweetheart!Reader - Delusional

Part Two

🎵 Spread Thin - Mariah the Scientist

The warm morning sun peered thru the bedroom curtains; you blink a few times in an attempt to adjust your eyes to the bright light. Knowing Chris usually sleeps in late with you, you roll to his side to fling an arm around him, only to realize he had already woken up and got out of bed. A small groan leaves your lips, not getting your morning cuddle session in with your babydaddy gave you a bad start to your day. Your son was already doing somersaults and backflips in your womb, letting you know he was awake and as active as he could be.

The cold hardwood floor sends shivers up your spine, your sleepy daze fogging your brain as you make your way out of the bedroom and down the hallway. You could see Chris lazily slumped across the couch with his back facing you, one hand stuffed in a bag of chips while the other held his phone. Being the sweet – yet naive – girl you were, you saw it as the perfect opportunity to pull a cute little jump scare prank on your boyfriend. You watch him like a hawk as his thumb dances across his phone screen, making sure you’re light on your feet as you tiptoe toward him.

Just as you’re about to close in on him like a lion with its prey, his phone chimes, indicating a text was sent. Your eyebrows crunch in confusion as he sits up, freeing his other hand to type a quick reply. Uncertainty buries itself deep in your gut and your intuition makes you take a few steps forward to get a clearer view at who Chris was texting.

You had no idea how you were pulling off being so quiet. You were nearly in your third trimester; pregnancy obviously came with weight gain, so you weren’t exactly light on your feet to say the least. Clumsiness was blessed upon you at a young age and your baby bump didn’t do you much justice these days. All you knew was – you were bound and determined to see who the hell your babydaddy was texting. No matter how hard you squinted, you couldn’t make out the name. A little voice in the back of your head kept telling you to take a step closer, finally being able to focus on the name written at the top of the screen, when the realization bestows itself upon you; he wasn’t texting anyone familiar. Before you found out you were pregnant, there were a few incidents where other females had slid in your direct messages on Instagram, coming to you as a ‘woman’ about your boyfriend's shitty behavior. Granted, he had been on his best behavior the last seven months – or so you thought.

Your heart falls to the pit of your stomach as you watch him sneakily type a reply into his phone, letting out an uneasy breath. It must’ve been a bit too loud because Chris lifts his head, turning around to face you. His mouth gapes open, astonishment spreads across his face as he realizes he’s caught in the act of texting another bitch that wasn’t the mother of his unborn. Chris stumbles on his words, “Hey — Hey, Babe?” his cheeks rosy red as he chews on his bottom lip out of nervousness.

“Who are you texting?” you ask, trying to be as nonchalant as possible while a frown pulls at your lips, a mixture of embarrassment and sadness hitting you like a bus. The look on Chris’ face gave you all of the confirmation you needed, there was no doubt he was texting another girl, nothing could convince you otherwise. You watch as he jumps up from his seat, pressing the lock button on his phone in a rush and stuffing it into his pants pocket. You position all your weight on your left side while rubbing a hand over your bump, sucking your teeth as if you were rushing an answer out of him, “nobody just someone asking for a collab. I’d have to talk to Matt and Nick about it first,” he stumbles over his own words, making it nearly impossible to believe the bullshit excuse he made up off the top of his head. It had always been clear he was a horrible liar, but this was an all-time low for him.

You furrow your brows together, letting him know you called bullshit before opening your mouth to speak, “yeah — and who was that?” The last year and a half you had been with Chris, you became accustomed to his sneaky ways. A lot of the time you felt like you were playing detective, constantly poking and prodding him with questions just to get the truth out of him. You watch him shake his head, “nobody important — probably won’t end up going thru with it anyways,” his eyes not meeting yours one time.

“Let me see,” you tell him, holding out your hand like an angry mother who was confiscating her middle schoolers phone. Chris’ face crunches in confusion, his brows knitting together much like yours were, “why?”

Going thru his phone was something you had only done a few times before and each it led to uncovered lies, days of crying, and treacherous heartbreak. You had been in this situation before, his reluctance to hand over his phone gave you all the confirmation, not that you didn’t have it already. If it was the other way around, he wouldn’t even have to ask to go thru your phone. Your password was your due date which he knew very well. Your heart thumps in your chest and you try to muster up a response, an argument was the last thing your emotions could handle but you knew deep down it needed to be addressed. You didn’t deserve this. You shrug your shoulders at him, “I’m not dumb Chris,” tears brim the waterlines of your eyes as you let out a staggered breath.

Chris stares at you from across the couch, not knowing if he should run to comfort you or stay frozen in his place, continuing to play dumb like he did last time he was caught red handed. He immediately regrets the next sentence that falls from his mouth, “Sweetheart, you’re being delusional,” his phone vibrates in his pocket, sounding off another notification alert. Your eyes drifting down to his pocket and back up to him, “I’m not texting any bitches — honest!” he lies thru his teeth, not daring to make eye contact with you.

“Chris, I’m due in twelve weeks” your voice thick with emotion as you blink back the tears fighting to be set free, “you think now is the right time to lie to me?” You don’t let him get out another word before you spin on your heels and march to his bedroom. His footsteps echo off the hardwood floor, letting you know he was quickly in tow behind you, “baby – wait!’ you hear him call after you before slamming the bedroom door, making sure to lock it behind you. Chris stands on the other side, his face pressed against the door as he knocks repetitively, trying desperately to plead his case as you shove random clothes into a duffel bag, "sweetheart — c'mon, please open the door," you ignore him, alternating between ordering an uber and texting your best friend to let her know you’d be staying at her house for a while. You weren’t letting Chris talk his way out of the trouble he caused this time — he had no excuses.

wc - 1262

♡‧₊˚ I put out a poll the other day asking if you guys wanted this or Brat and Neighbor!Matt's first interaction. They results were pretty close, but the angst won lol. I didn't want it to be too angsty because there's more to come, obviously. My heart aches for sweetheart but I'm glad she's standing her ground. Let me know what you guys think?!

Tags - @lvrsturniolo @ribread03 @strnsvhx @m11rx @sweetshuga @loveparqdise @frickin-bats @katie-tibo @leila-marie4 @delusional-4-fake-people @shadowthesim @immy08 @trevorsgodmother @watercolorskyy @thepubeburgler @courta13 @luvr4miya @chrislilcumslvt @strnilolover @sagesturns @slut4chris888 @watermelonstarzz @purpledragon222 @reidshearts @sophand4n4 @mattssslutbby @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @sturnslutz @sturniolo101 @sturniolos-manslut19 @stvrniolostan

Babydaddy!Chris Masterlist

Masterlist

Taglist (comment to be added)

Requests/Asks are always open - send me asks about Babydaddy!Chris x Sweetheart!Reader & Neighbor!Matt x Brat!Reader

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thevillainswhore · 10 months ago

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New Tricks: A Pure Love

Pairing: Virgin!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count: 11.5k

Summary: From first kisses to first dates, the two of you have come a long way from pining over the other in secret and innocent touches during an unplanned movie night. But now, what once was a forbidden fantasy for an unattainable crush becomes reality when you coach Bucky Barnes through losing his virginity.

Warnings: College AU, brother’s best friend!Bucky, fluff, swearing, teasing, smut, loss of virginity, unprotected p in v sex, nipple play, handjob, praise kink, size kink, big hints of subby Bucky, dorky Bucky, love confessions.

Author’s Note: Beta and dividers by @rookthorne, she’s been my rock through this whole AU. Words will never be enough to thank you my love ❤️ Here is part three and the final instalment to New Tricks’ main storyline 🥹

New Tricks Masterlist 🌼🐾

New Tricks Playlist 🎵

Your evening together has been magical, something pulled straight out of your dreams. The visuals of the bright, glowing stars and planets are nothing in comparison to the smile that pulls at Bucky’s mouth, even after the two of you left the museum.

During the walk back to your dorm with Bucky, he talks constantly and animatedly about the planetarium — recounting his joy for all the astronomical wonders he got to witness up close. And listening to your boyfriend’s contagious glee for a date you put together has you grinning from ear to ear.

In the late hour, you make a stop on your way back to the local twenty-four hour dessert parlour that is close to your dorm, opting for two single scoop ice cream cones. Bucky chose chocolate; you chose strawberry, and you stroll hand in hand down the Brooklyn cobblestones.

“I still can’t believe you don’t like chocolate ice cream, Bee,” Bucky accuses with his mouth full, shaking his head with a high sense of mock disapproval.

You roll your eyes playfully and scoff. He hasn’t stopped complaining about your dislike for chocolate flavoured treats since you revealed that snippet of information while you perused the options available to you at the parlour. “How many times are we going to go over this, Buck? Strawberry is superior,” you tell him with a proud smile.

“Absolutely not!” Bucky gasps, outraged. “I refuse to listen to this slander against chocolate.”

“Drama—” Your retort is cut short by him pressing you against the wall of the building next to you. The cone of ice cream in your hand almost topples precariously, interrupting you mid lick, and he ignores your surprised shout of, “Hey!”

“We are settling this right now, Buttercup.” He looks deep into your eyes with dire seriousness. “You’re gonna try mine and tell me that you like it.” The cone of chocolate ice cream appears in your peripheral vision.

“Bucky!” You laugh. “I haven’t tried chocolate ice cream in years!”

“All the more reason to try it now.” He holds his cone up to your mouth, a twinkle in his bright blue eyes and a pout on his plump lips. “For me?”

“Y’know, you can’t keep bribing me with those puppy eyes — No matter how handsome you are.”

With a cheeky smile, he whispers, “Is it working, though?”

Sighing in defeat, you can’t help the upturn of your lips at his charm. “You’re lucky you’re cute. Hit me with it.”

Like the cat who got the cream, Bucky closes the gap between you and the cold treat, letting it slightly touch your lips — the cold sensation makes you shiver, and you tentatively stick your tongue out, slowly laving it up the side of the scoop of ice cream.

The strong taste of cocoa and sugar doesn’t impress you, and you flick your gaze towards your boyfriend to say as such, only, he’s homed in on the motion of your tongue while you lick the last remnants of cream from your lips.

He shudders, the strong line of his shoulders shaking with the force of them, and he pants quietly. The rise and fall of his chest is uneven while his blue eyes darken to a stormy grey.

It's difficult to contain the satisfied smirk growing on your lips as you ask teasingly, “You good, baby?”

Bucky gulps, unsuspecting of such an innocent act to affect him so much. “I’m uh— I’m good.” His head bobs up and down, no real confidence in his answer, but his stare still pins you in place and he bites his bottom lip. “How’d you like it?”

“Hmm,” you hum, then you lick your lips again — just to make sure they are entirely clean, of course. Bucky’s eyes follow the movement with rapt attention. “I have to say…” The urge to use pretence to answer his question makes you want to burst into laughter, but you soldier on with the truth. “I’m sorry, honey. I still stand by my initial statement.”

The erratic movements of his chest abruptly cease, and his eyes never leave yours while you lean forward, closer to his lips. “But,” you whisper, the tips of your fingers dancing up his chest. Every touch builds the deepening tension swirling in his eyes. “It doesn’t hurt to try something new every so often, Puppy.”

You reach up to the corner of his mouth and swipe the smudge of chocolate ice cream left there with your thumb, then suck it into your mouth, releasing it with a wet pop — it feels like you well and truly break his resistance.

Bucky’s fingers twitch against the cone by your lips, and it crumbles. The forceful puffs of air from his parted lips blow against your mouth, the inevitability of him pouncing on you any second undeniable.

Rather than making it easier on him, you smirk and push him back by his shoulder. “Never hurts to experiment — Try new things. You never know.”

The dazed expression on his features is innocently sweet, and you try not to laugh as he reaches out for you to drag you back, but you dodge his hands and walk away, out of reach. You look at him over your shoulder and lick up the dribbling cream that almost reaches your hand.

Bucky stares after you, mouth agape. “I— What—” He shakes himself back to reality, and he licks his lips, brushing his long hair back with his fingers and he throws his crumbled ice cream cone into the nearest trash can — no longer interested in that sweet treat.

Bucky’s long strides work to catch up with you, a new kind of spark in his eyes you haven’t seen before. “Something new, huh?”

“Yeah, handsome,” you purr. The steps to your apartment come up, and you take the first few with your back to Bucky, a smirk playing on your lips. Just as you reach the entryway door, you look over your shoulder at your boyfriend, who returns your coy smile with a hesitant one of his own. “Sometimes you’ve got to just let go and give in.”

Bucky stands behind you while you unlock the door to your dorm. The material of his button up shirt scrapes against the bare skin of your arm, and you try to suppress the shiver that runs down your spine, but it's useless. The air is charged with a thick tension unfamiliar between the two of you, and you feel as though you're swimming in new territory, wading into the depths of the unknown.

“I had a great time tonight, Bee,” Bucky says quietly over your shoulder; the urge to kiss the skin there too tempting for him not to fall into.

A shiver ripples down your spine from the sensation of his lips tickling your skin, and you stop just as you’re about to open the door. They move carefully over the slope of your neck and up to the lobe of your ear.

Reining in your arousal, you turn around and agree with a broad smile. “Me too, handsome.”

His eyes flicker between you and the door to your dorm. You hold his hand while the other rests on the handle behind you. “Ready to go in?” you ask.

Bucky clears his throat. “Mhm,” he mumbles, and with his confirmation, you open the door. Immediately, the glow of orange lights grab his attention as they dance on the ceiling. Lit candles are placed on surfaces around the room, while your vinyl record turntable plays soft music.

The ambiance seems to both intrigue and calm Bucky, and you feel your own shoulders loosen. Thank you, Nat, you think inwardly.

“Come on,” you whisper, urging Bucky further into your dorm room. He walks forward wordlessly, and with him out of the way, you close and lock the door behind you both — it affords you a solitary second to process the secret desire that has been stored away for so long.

A guilty pleasure about your brother’s best friend that you revelled in at one point in time is becoming a reality.

There is no means to do that now, to stow it away in secrecy — he stood behind you, right there in reach of you, no longer a fantasy.

The door locks with a muffled click, and you turn around to see Bucky standing by the foot of your bed, head bowed and fiddling with the hair tie around his wrist. Slowly and steadily, you edge closer to him, careful not to make any sudden movements that will spook him. “Bucky?”

His body tenses slightly, his shoulders almost reaching his ears as you near him.

“Sweetheart?” you repeat, and you tuck back some of the hair that kept him hidden — a curtain he didn’t want to peer through. A dazzling pair of ocean blue eyes meet your own; swimming with anxiety and the desperate craving for direction.

“Hi, you.” Your voice soothes him, and he instantly melts into you — callused, trembling hands rush to seek contact, finding their home around your waist.

“Hi, Bee,” he whispers, resting his forehead against yours.

The soft instrumental of guitar chords pacifies the ambience. “How are we doing?” you ask gently.

Bucky swallows the lump in his throat, and there’s a shaky, tremulous quality to his voice when he answers with, “Nervous.”

You place a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose, hoping to calm him. “About what, baby?”

Leaning slightly backward to better look into his eyes, you notice there is a storm of emotions swirling through his irises. In an attempt to soothe the hurricane, you comfortingly rub your hands down his muscled arms.

“S— Sex.” His neck flushes with patchy red blotches; a staple of whenever he is flustered.

You hum soothingly and nod your head, acknowledging his worries. “You know, we don’t have to do it if you feel like you’ve changed your mind, sweetheart. I was nervous for my first time, too.” Your fingers wrap around his arm to squeeze gently, grounding him in the wallow of nerves. “It’s okay if you’re not ready.”

“No.” Bucky shakes his head, gulping. “I— I want this. I really want this.” There is such conviction and assurity in his voice that you cannot help but kiss him softly. He pulls back and his breath shudders.

“You’re completely sure about this?” you ask once more, making sure to give him the space to reject your advances if he feels the need to.

“Mm.” Bucky nuzzles into your neck, taking comfort in your embrace as he mumbles into your skin, “With everything I have.”

You grasp his face into your hands with the most care and love you can possibly manifest to bring him out of his safe retreat, and you connect your lips with his again.

The motion comes easy to Bucky now, natural. He has no fear and certainly no hesitation to kiss you the way he likes, with tenderness and an urge to claim you as his own — his mouth moves over yours in a synchronised dance, the steps familiar, but it still feels new, thrilling in nature.

Snaking your hands down from his cheeks, your fingers leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake over his neck. They stop over his collar, and you look into his eyes to gain permission to undress him. “Can I?”

“Yeah.” He’s relaxed enough in your hold to not allow nerves to hinder him just yet.

You begin to make your way down his covered chest, and with the utmost care, you unfasten each button effortlessly — tan skin, smooth as silk and dotted with a pattern of sun kissed freckles, is revealed with each undone button, and you have to tamper down your impatience to rip the shirt straight off of his shoulders.

“You’re so gorgeous, Bucky,” you breathe in disbelief, and your palms slither back up his body, sneaking over the ridges of his abs. “And all mine.”

“Ah–” Bucky gasps and jolts — your nails, longer than usual, brush over a responsive area of his stomach and you grin into his neck.

You skim the tips of your fingers over the planes of his pecs, and over his shoulders to finally slide off the material veiling the godly sight of his body to you. Of course, you have already seen your boyfriend without a shirt on before, but right now, in the glow of the candlelight and the orange hues dancing over his skin, he looks like he’s been sculpted from the angels themselves.

“Bee…” A dust of pink decorates his high cheekbones, still ever so shy with your compliments.

You open your mouth to reply, but Bucky thoroughly shocks you as he begins to unbuckle his belt, the muscles in his stomach tensing as his hands work to free the leather from his slacks.

You watch, breathless, while he pulls down the slacks to reveal a pair of tight black briefs that do nothing to hide the growing bulge. Bucky is fucking huge, that much you make out from the strain of the material, and you’re almost sure he isn’t even fully hard.

“Oh my god.” The sensation of your quiet divulgence against his ear elicits a sudden moan from his lips. You will never tire of being the cause of that sound.

The rush his vocalised pleasure evokes has you beginning to reach behind your back to unzip your dress. However, Bucky hesitantly stops your hands in their haste. “C— Can I do it?” he stutters, eyes wide and glossy. “Can I undress you — Please?”

It would be a crime to not allow him after a plea so sweet.

With your nod of approval, he takes a deep breath, calming his nerves before he makes his way behind you. You feel his fingers hover over your back, tentative and unsure and it takes him a moment until he sighs in finality.

He pinches the zipper, tiny in his long fingers, and he slowly descends the barrier downwards. The spaghetti straps slip off one by one — his knuckles gently skim over your shoulders until they trail down your arms, and with a quiet flutter, the entirety of your dress falls to the floor, leaving you in just your lingerie.

You wait patiently, letting Bucky take in every inch of your half naked form. Moments pass by and your combined breaths — one steady, the other erratic — ricochet through the room.

“Sweetheart?” You feel the strands of his long hair sweep across your skin as he looks up at the sound of your voice. “Would you like to get my bra?” It’s an offer, a choice for him to decide on his own terms without the pressure.

Stunning you with his growing confidence, he begins to unfasten the material — the straps fall down your arms with ease and you gently let it drop to the floor.

Bucky gulps harshly, then. The realisation that your breasts are on display for the first time to his eyes hitting him like a truck.

Stepping around your figure to come to your front, he keeps his eyes on your face, never once looking away as he kneels to the ground. His nimble fingers work to slip your heels off, taking care to help you place your bare feet down onto the carpet without letting you trip, and he kisses your lower thighs. Once he’s finished, the palms of his hands rub up the back of your calves and squeeze while he rises to stand.

His gaze still doesn’t stray.

“You can look, Bucky — It’s okay.”

Only with your go ahead do his eyes dart down, taking the entirety of your body in at once. A harsh inhale of breath catches in his throat, the rise and fall of his chest is rapid while his fingers twitch by his sides. His gaze locks onto your breasts — guilty as charged with his basic instincts.

“Puppy,” you call out to him, parsing through the growing fog of desperate need in his mind, visible by the glint of hunger across his irises. “Come here.”

His eyes shoot up, searching your expression for any sense of mocking, and he finds none. There is a desperate gleam in his cloudy, misted gaze — frantic for guidance and reassurance still. “Come here, baby,” you whisper, holding your hands out for him to grab hold of. “It’s alright.”

The steps Bucky takes are rigid, robotic — not allowing himself to lose what little control he has left. You vow to change that. He stops at a small distance in front of you, further away than you care for, and you take the bait to bring yourself closer until your nipples skim across the bare planes of his skin.

The sensation steals your breath away, and Bucky squeezes his eyes closed, clenching his fists at his sides — it takes you back to your movie night together all that time ago, when the voice in his mind told him to hold back, to not give in to the urge to reach out instead.

And that just wouldn’t do.

“None of that, sweetheart,” you coo, softly. “I’m gonna need you to open your eyes so I can see you.”

Like magic, he flickers his eyes open, and he swallows around the lump in his throat.

“There he is.” You smile reassuringly at him. “Deep breaths for me, baby. You’re doing so good.”

Bucky takes a small moment to do as you say, treating your word as gospel. His mouth works furiously over the words that won’t seem to come, until he settles on a breathless, “You’re so beautiful.”

The way he’s devouring you with his eyes says volumes of his true meaning, and you couldn’t find it in you to mind that he was speechless.

You gently tuck the hair that’s fallen into his eyes behind his ears. “Oh, baby,” you whisper back, holding his face in your hands while a torrent of emotions that vary from awe to trepidation threaten to sweep you away. “You’re something else. I’m so lucky.”

A small huff of laughter falls from his parted lips, and he begins to grin, a cheeky pull at the corner of his lips that spreads warmth from your core to the tips of your toes and fingers. “If only you knew how much the guys on the team make fun of me for saying the exact same thing.”

The two of you share a small bout of laughter — a wholesome moment to cut the charged air and be yourselves for a second.

You slide your hands down from his face down to his chest, feeling the steady pitter patter of his heart that’s calmed down from the fast thrum — the soft smile you give him forces a heavy exhale of breath from his lungs, and you revel in the one you’re given in return.

“Good to keep going?” You check in once more.

Bucky nods his head, certain. “Please.”

“Sit on the bed for me then, Puppy,” you softly direct him.

Following behind him, sure to stay close for both his benefit and yours, he climbs onto your mattress and sits against the headboard. He holds his hand out to you, routine embedded into him to guide you onto his lap.

It registers to him then, as your bare skin melts against his, that you have never been in this position with so little layers between you.

Carefully, you rest your crotch — covered by your thin layer of underwear — against his. A thrill of tension stiffens Bucky’s muscles, and you smile gently at him while you shuffle your knees comfortably on either side of his thighs — fully aware that the sensation is much more intense than usual.

“Bee…” His warm, callused hands hover over waist as you readjust yourself, and while you set yourself down on his lap, the lace of your panties swipe over his hardening cock. “Oh— Fuck.” He chokes out.

Immediately, you still. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“I wanna touch you,” Bucky forces out, breathing heavily. “So bad—”

“Remember to breathe, Buck,” you remind him gently, not wanting him to overwhelm himself — not this early. “You’re okay, I’m here.”

His chest shudders with a harsh breath, and he whimpers, “I don’t know what to do.”

The lack of experience and inadequacies that stem from it run rampant through his saddening expression, from the sheen of tears that start on his lash line, to the deep frown on his pouting lips. They lock him in place and render him frozen under you — the tense line of his thigh muscles taut beneath yours.

You realise with a shock that while he is so eager to please, a mingling sense of shame screams that he won’t be able to make this good for you.

“Hmm. Baby, listen,” you soothe, gathering his attention once more. His hands intertwine easily with your own and you kiss his knuckles. “How about we start off with something you do know?”

Bucky looks at you with all the innocence of someone completely out of their depth. “O— Okay,” he stutters. “Yeah, I can do that.”

You smile, placing a single, loving kiss to his lips. “I’ve got you, baby.”

Sitting back upright, you slowly test a gentle roll of your hips over his crotch and instantly, Bucky gasps loudly. You grin salaciously as you witness his eyes flutter closed. But you still take care to stop, to wait a second and look for any signs he doesn’t like it — there are none, much to your satisfaction.

Slowly, you rock back and forth over his bulge, drinking in the slight, hitched moans and whines that fall from his lips. “You’re doing so well — Proud of you.” You bring the tips of his fingers to your lips and kiss them gently. “It’s only you and me, okay?”

Bucky’s eyes flutter; heavy breaths escaping his mouth. “You and me,” he whispers.

“That’s right. Just us.”

“You don’t have to worry your pretty little head, Puppy,” you tease gently. Bucky bites his lip. “I need you to just relax — Sit back and let me do the thinking.”

“Buttercup–”

“Here.” You guide Bucky’s hands to your sides, smoothing them down the slopes of your hips, and you repeat the motion a few more times to better allow him to feel accustomed to the feel of your naked skin. “There you go.”

His hands, rough and calloused from his football training, stain your body for an eternity — caressing you with a ceaseless love and compassion.

“Touch me,” you say, unable to simmer the blooming heat within you.

Transfixed, Bucky’s thumbs brush back and forth. There’s still a sense of hesitation in his movements — the way his fingers twitch and tickle over your skin. But it lasts only a moment; a path of his own choice decorates your sides, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “Your skin is so soft,” he sighs in awe.

He rests his head back against the headboard with a soft sigh, and he tilts his chin down to watch you grind against his bulge. Leisurely, he tenderly brushes his fingers over your stomach, the touch of his hands beginning to drift upwards under the slope of your tits.

“Please, Bucky,” you plead with him, the tease of having him so close is too much to bear. “Touch me.”

“‘Kay,” he mumbles drunkenly.

The pad of his thumb swipes over the peak of your nipple softly, a barely there sensation that makes you keen. “Yes, just like that, Pup.”

It’s all the reaction he needs.

With a surge of confidence, Bucky begins to massage your tits, continuing to use his thumbs to rub circles over your sensitive nipples while you grind against his growing cock. “I— Is this okay, Buttercup?”

You almost scoff — the thought that his experimental touches are anything less than okay absurd to you.

“Yeah, yeah,” you whine, and the reassurance of your pleasure invigorates him to move faster, steadier and more firm with his touch. “Making me feel so good, baby, keep going.”

Lost in the feel of his touch and the insistent pressure of his clothed cock against your folds, you tilt your head back and close your eyes. The flutter of butterflies in your stomach crescendo into a frenzy the faster you move. All the while, you miss the way Bucky’s gaze is intently focusing on the way your breasts sway with the grind of your hips; how he licks his bottom lip with an urge to claim.

The sharp, intense sensation of his fingers pinching a peaked nipple between his thumb and forefinger forces a shout from your parted lips. “Fu–uck, Bucky — Ohmygod.” Your cunt pulses and aches when his fingers stay hovering, spooked at the sudden reaction. “More, more—”

“Fuck,” Bucky groans, and he bucks up into you, matching your rhythm and this time, it’s you who’s soaking the material of your panties. “Bubs, I— Holy shit — I need more.”

It’s an achievement you’re most excited for, that he’s freely telling you, unprompted, what he needs.

Though, the teasing nature you held could not be dissuaded — you meet his gaze with a mischievous grin. “Yeah, Puppy?” Your hands hover over his lower stomach, the tips of your fingers dancing over the twitching muscles, and you move your index finger beneath the fabric. “Wanna get rid of these?”

The elastic waistband of his underwear snaps back against his lower stomach, making him yelp in surprise. “Ah— Mhm,” he begs deliciously, eyes wide and completely surrendering to you. “Take ‘em off, Bee, please.”

Your bare skin brushes against his while you shuffle backwards, slowly crawling down his legs all while marking his skin with kisses and teasing nibbles, until you reach his briefs.

Looking up at Bucky under your eyelashes, you blink sweetly, eyeing the sweat that begins to build on the ridges of his abs. Your breath ghosts over the material of his underwear while you ask, “Can I have your cock?”

“Oh, god,” he chokes out while his dick twitches in uncontainable excitement.

“I need your consent, Bucky.” The statement brings him back to the present, grounding him to the sight of you between his thighs and softly reminding him that everything is on his terms.

“Yeah,” he gasps. A few deep breaths cause his chest to rise and fall, steadying the rabbiting pulse in his neck. “Yes.”

With his confirmation, you slowly, gently ease your fingers underneath the fabric that hid what you truly wanted — the waistband slides easily down his tense thighs. Your eyes are focusing on the new inches of skin revealed, the sculpted line of his Adonis belt that runs down to the one part of his body you’re desperate to see.

Bucky watches you with bated breath — you’re so close to his cock, and it’s still not enough for him.

The small whine of frustration makes you flit your gaze upwards. A sheen of moisture shines over his eyes, and the pout of his lips are shining slick with spit — he looks absolutely wrecked, and you hadn’t even taken his hard cock from the confines of his briefs.

Deciding to put him out of his misery, you finally pull his briefs down until his twitching length bursts free of the material, standing tall and thick, curved and almost purple from the strain of arousal. Your eyes follow the veins trailing up his length, and you lick your lips once you spot a pearl of precum already forming from the tip of his dick — a sweet temptation that’s teasingly begging you to have a taste.

You’re speechless, literally awe stricken while you salivate over the length and girth of his cock. “Oh.” The slow blinks of your eyelids leave them hooded, but you continue to stare, hypnotised at the sight of your boyfriend’s huge cock.

“B— Buttercup?” he whispers, voice tense with worry after the few seconds of silence that stretch while you stare, transfixed. “Is— Is everything okay?”

You swallow, trying to rid the sudden dryness in your mouth. “Bucky,” you say roughly, and you look up into his doe eyes. “If I weren’t a more patient woman, I’d have your cock in my mouth and down my throat already.”

He sputters, the blotchy redness beginning to creep up from his chest to his neck.

“You’re so fucking big, baby. Holy fuck— how do you have such a pretty cock?” you wonder aloud.

“Shit, you can’t say that,” Bucky groans, squeezing his eyes shut as his dick twitches. The far more rapid rise and fall of his chest makes his stomach muscles contract and flutter — the sight lends ideas for the future idea of working him over into the line that blurs pleasure and pain, all to see how he takes it.

But you lick your lips, promising yourself to revisit that thought later. Tonight was about him.

“Fine. I’ll behave,” you tell him, waiting until his eyes open and focus on you before you grin wolfishly. “For now.”

Bucky’s lips part to speak, but before he can work the words past his tongue, you sit up and grab his hands, directing them to your hips and over the fabric of your panties. The hold you have over the back of his hands leaves him unable to pull away — not that he desires to.

The fabric glides over your hips with your guidance, revealing the bare skin. “Oh— Fuck,” Bucky murmurs, watching the journey the fabric takes until it lands on the floor next to your bed.

“Buttercup,” he gasps in wonderment. “You— You’re perfect.”

It’s difficult to remain confident while your boyfriend looks at you as though you put the stars in the sky just for him — like he’s seeing an angel. “You’re a true gentleman, aren’t you?” you laugh, trying to hide the way his stare makes you flustered.

“Don’t do that.” He shakes his head, his eyes soaking you in with such a reverence that’s dizzying. “You— Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m taking about because — Fuck. Believe me, you’re fuckin’ unreal.”

The world seems like it stops on its axis right then and there. You know Bucky’s emotions are heightened and at an all-time high, but you also know that he means every word of what he says — his sobering eyes tell you the truth alone.

You’re the one who becomes a stuttering mess for a moment, and you stumble over your words before you manage to regain your composure, and you clear your throat. “T— Thank you, baby.” The pause in heated touches gives you an opportunity to check in. “How are you feeling?”

Still trying to gain some semblance of control, he audibly gulps. “I— I’m good, yeah.”

“Yeah?” You begin to steadily shuffle forwards on your knees, further up his legs to hover over his crotch, careful to not let your body graze him just yet. “You know you can back out whenever you’d like, okay? You say the word and we stop.”

The small distance between your most intimate parts is dangerously in the balance.

“No,” Bucky says finally, shaking his head as his hair sweeps over his face. A few strands settle over his cheeks. “Wanna keep goin’.”

You bite your lip and smile wickedly. “You got it, baby.”

His bottom lip is trapped between his teeth as he watches you begin to lower your body. “We’re just going to keep doing what we’ve been doing, okay, baby?” You reassure as his breathing picks up.

But his eyes stay focused and fixated on you.

When your cunt lowers against the base of his cock, the movement pushes his length down until the tip almost reaches his belly button, and even with the visual of you resting over his length as you always did in the past, Bucky isn’t prepared for the feel of his bare dick sitting snug between your folds. His eyes shoot open while he gasps loudly and balls up the bedsheets tightly in his fists. “Shit, shit — Fuck, oh my— God—”

The palms of your hands smooth over his tense stomach. “Easy there, big guy,” you coo softly. “It’s okay.”

His breathing becomes erratic as his back arches against the headboard. “Oh god, you’re— You’re fuckin’ soaked, Bee.”

You are. Nobody else ever had this kind of effect on you, and so you certainly aren’t ashamed for Bucky to know how much he turns you on. “That’s what you’re doing to me, baby — Can’t help it,” you keen.

His chest rumbles while he groans deeply, throwing his head back.

The urge to move is compelling, almost swallowing you whole — Bucky isn’t the only one struggling to keep calm, with his thick length brushing your entrance and putting constant pressure on your clit, it’s a challenge to not take him then and there.

“Do you remember when we first kissed?” you ask breathlessly before you begin to squirm. “And I asked you to think about how wet and tight I’d be for you?”

Bucky’s muscles strain as he frustratedly tangles his fingers in his hair. “Fuck, I haven’t stopped thinking about it since, baby.”

Your hips work a little quicker over his cock, the slide seamless from how aroused you are, and to your surprise, you feel his hips work against you, too. “How does it feel to know your inches away from slipping inside my pussy?”

The rocking movements of his hips falter as he jerks up and jostles you, making the butterflies in your stomach flutter in a crazed frenzy. “It feels— Please— You’re killin’ me—”

“My sweet boy,” you utter. “Don’t worry, you’ll have it soon.”

Each and every plea and whimper that falls from his red-bitten lips only serves to turn you on even more. He tries to flex his hips to push his cock into you, to feel the warmth of your cunt around him, but even he isn’t ready for the sensation that ripples down his spine once the tip catches on your hole.

“Fuck!” he curses.

Hurriedly, you move yourself away before he can slip in any further. “Nuh-uh, sweetheart, I need you to be calm for me, alright? You can have me when you're calm, not just yet. Breathe for me.”

“No — I, no no, Bee, please, don’t do this to me. I want—” Bucky vehemently shakes his head from side to side, the vein in his neck almost popping from his exertion to hold back. His hands grip your waist, digging into your skin as he drags you back down onto his cock desperately. “Please, I wanna feel—”

“Oh, Pup,” you sigh with an all too innocent smile. “You wanna be a good boy for me, huh?”

“I can, I can,” he whines. The feel of his hands pawing at your waist sends a thrill up your spine. “Fuck, I can!”

“Yeah,” you mumble, unsure if you can hold out much longer yourself. “You can, Pup — I know you can.”

“Bee—” Bucky is a pure wreck, his chest heaving with breath, and a film of perspiration builds on his temples. You know it’s impossible for him to garner any more control, and you grant him mercy as you slightly lift your hips up to line the hole of your pussy up with his cock.

“Bucky, baby,” you call to him, waiting patiently until his wild eyes lock onto you, and you forewarn him, “You're sure about this?”

His bright blues cloud over with a haze of lust, and you shiver when he cries, “Please.”

“Okay, okay,” you soothe. “Alright, baby — Wait, hang on, sweetheart.” The bed creaks as you shuffle backwards once more. “Let’s get you off the headboard, so you’re comfier.”

The two of you move in tandem so his head rests back against the pillows, and you settle back over his hips, reaching out to smooth your thumb over his cheek. “Better?”

Bucky smiles and nods once, turning his head to kiss your palm.

“Okay.” You brace yourself with a steady breath, and finally sink down onto Bucky’s cock, the tip easing into your cunt with a pop. The stretch from his head alone has you squeezing your eyes shut, but you revel in the way he freezes under you, then the sluttiest whine you’ve ever heard falls from his slack mouth.

The effort to work past the thickness of his head causes your hands to rest on his stomach, allowing him to hold your weight, and your mouth falls open with a silent scream as you drop down further, taking more of his length.

Glancing down at your boyfriend to check on him, you find only the whites of his eyes through his hooded lids, and his fists balling so tightly in the sheets of your bed that they begin to tear.

With a whimper, your walls clench around his cock. “A— Almost in, baby.” Another inch fills your cunt. “Doing— Doing so well, Bucky,” you pant.

Your nails create indents into his skin while you internally build up the courage to take the entirety of his length. It feels an impossible task, one you desperately underestimated, but you were no quitter. Your walls rhythmically squeeze around him, and your breath hitches when you feel him twitch against the stimulation.

“God, I want you,” you moan, hanging your head. An unintelligible mumbled string of words or sounds fall from his lips in reply. “Fuck it.”

With a deep breath and a prayer for mercy, or strength, you arch your back — the wrecked moan that Bucky rasps sends a thrill of hunger up your spine. The slide of his cock against your walls makes you cry out, and you quickly drop your hips until you're fully seated against his crotch.

“Oh shit!” Instantly, Bucky shoots up from the mattress and wraps his arms firmly around your middle, crushing you against his heaving chest. “Don’t move, don’t move, don’t move — Please — Don’t fuckin’ move.”

You sling your arms around his shoulders in reply, and the two of you cling to one another with only your heavy breaths disturbing the quiet music in the background. The bare skin of your bodies sticks to each other, glistening in the candlelit room while the silent moments pass.

Hot, heavy breaths fan over the skin of your neck while Bucky nuzzles his face against the juncture of your shoulder — the movement effectively burying him entirely into your form. There is no way for him to get any closer, or any way to hide his muffled sniffles and gasps for air.

The beat of your heart steadies and thumps evenly — you pray that it is enough to calm his overwhelmed senses. “Steady, Pup — You’re alright, I’ve got you.” Gently, slowly, you comb your fingers through the damp strands of hair by his temples. “Just stop and let it happen, feel it, don’t fight it. It’s okay, baby.”

“S’too much, too much, Bee— Please, please, I don’t—” He stumbles over his words, working himself up.

“Bucky,” you say, firm but gentle, trying to reason over his rambling. “Do you need to stop?”

“No!” He holds you even tighter. “Please no, no no, don’t go, don’t move, don’t take— Please stay.”

“Hey, hey— I’m here, I’m here. I’m staying — Breathe, baby.” You rub your free hand over his back, shushing his pleas and continuing scratching your fingers over his scalp.

As you pacify Bucky, he begins to calm down — his breathing softens, the heightened intensity of emotions flowing easily into a quiet, content peace between you. Cautiously, you slightly lean yourself back and ask, “Can you look at me, please, sweetheart?”

It's a gradual process as he plucks the courage to lift his head out of your neck and surrender to your request, and your heart tightens when his teary eyes bore straight into your soul. “Oh, baby,” you sigh, bringing your hands round to hold his cheeks. “Was that a lot?”

Bucky timidly nods, his arms still caging themselves around your waist to keep you close.

“It’s okay — You’re okay, sweet boy — Doing so good.” The deep-rooted need to reassure him takes hold, an instinct that’s embedded within you to make him feel as safe as you possibly can. “Take your time.”

“Mm.” Bucky rests his forehead against your chest and listens to the steady beat of your heart, tethering himself back down to earth.

The charged air that holds the weight of tension finally breaks when he blows a long breath onto your skin. “This is— This is so much better than I imagined. Fuck, this is— Bee, I think I’m seeing stars.”

“Oh my god, you fucking dork.” Your laughter fills the room, full of pure happiness and glee to be able to find such fun in sex.

He smirks lopsidedly at you until you sigh, the amusement turning to fondness, and you kiss his forehead — almost able to forget the position you’re in.

But you’re soon reminded as Bucky quietly rasps, “Squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight — Can barely breathe.” Goosebumps run down the naked skin of your arms at the same time your cunt pulses. He grunts deeply with a sharp hiss. “You really were right.”

“I did warn you,” you tease, giggling when he lifts his head up and playfully glares at you. Closing the distance, you kiss him deeply, sucking his bottom lip into your mouth as you whisper against his lips, “Ready for me to move now, baby?”

“Fuck yes,” he groans.

You don’t waste any more time. Tangling your fingers around the locks at the back of Bucky’s head, you pull and begin to smother his neck with wet kisses, the taste of salt delicious on your tongue.

Raising your hips, his cock slides out of your pussy, leaving behind a hollowness you crave to fill immediately. Without forewarning, you swiftly lower yourself, sobbing with pleasure at how perfectly he fits inside you. “Bucky.”

“I know,” he moans, long and low, sounding as wrecked as you feel. “Fuck, Bee — I feel it too.”

Words fail you, the delightful feeling you’ve waited so patiently for holding you hostage as you pant into his shoulder.

It becomes easier with each stroke to fuck yourself onto his cock, making sure to grind yourself deeper into his lap each time you come down.

“I— I can’t fuckin’ think straight.” Bucky’s palms slide over your ass and grip it firmly.

You laugh deliriously, high on the adrenaline coursing through your veins, and you barely notice the way you instinctively change the motion of your hips, beginning to grind into his lap in circular motions.

A strangled sounding moan causes your focus to snap towards Bucky. “Oh— Jesus fuck!” His fingernails dig into your ass as he hysterically pleads, “Like that, baby — Exactly like fuckin’ that.”

Huffing with a smirk, you breathe, “You like that, huh?”

“Yes,” he admits shamelessly. You start to speed your motion up, and the filter between his mind and lips completely crumbles. “Your— Your p—pussy feels good — So good. You have no idea — Shit — Keep goin’, please—”

The words tumbling from his lips are cut off when you push against his shoulders, sending him off balance to lay back down on the bed with a thump. Then, resting your palms on his chest, you lean forward to kiss him. You whisper against his lips, a sly smirk creeping onto your mouth, “Hold on tight, baby.”

Using Bucky as leverage to hold your weight, you begin to bounce on his cock. The position allows his length to sink all the way into you, his tip hitting your cervix at the right angle to make you whimper.

“Oh, it’s so— Fuck, I’m so deep— In you.” He struggles to breathe, the wind totally knocked out of him, but he’s mesmerised and completely drowning in the sensation.

“I know, baby — Stretching me out so much.” A fire simmers in your eyes. The muscles of your thighs burn with exertion, but you refuse to stop — especially not when your boyfriend is a fucked-out mess beneath you, trying to control the subtle flexes of his hips.

While you’re riding him, far too engrossed in making sure you keep the rhythm steady, you miss the feral glint in Bucky’s eyes. He’s possessed by the sight of your cunt sucking in his cock so deliciously; your slick dripping down onto him and coating his dick.

Licking his lips, his eyes lock onto your puffy clit, enlarged and throbbing in pleasure, and he inches his hand forward to experimentally swipe his thumb over your nub. His gaze snaps up to you with the unleashed moan you scream to the roof. “Fuck, Bucky!”

You're quickly pulled back forward as Bucky grabs you behind the neck, bringing you down to kiss him. His tongue slithers into your mouth, his muffled groans rumbling against your lips while he continues to buck up into you.

The need to catch your breath has you pulling away, gasping for air.

Bucky looks drunk — eyes hooded with a hunger blurring the blue of his irises and the black of his pupils. His pink swollen lips hang open, wet from clumsy kisses with too much tongue for his hazy mind to process.

You hang your head low between your shoulders and cry, “Why are you so damn big, baby?”

His hands slink down to your hips, and he gropes at the quivering muscles desperately. “Buttercup,” he tries to warn you — the cries over the size of his dick are sending him into a deeper pit of hunger.

Your head’s already too hazy to process anything other than the feel of his cock. “I’m aching, how the fuck am I taking you right now?”

The thrusts of Bucky’s hips speed up, and he bends his knees to plant his feet on the bed, his sole mission to fuck up into your cunt.

“Feel so fucking full, Bucky — Filling my pussy up so good.” The breathy moans fall like chants from your lips.

The steady, punishing rhythm you maintain falters, and your breath hitches when his cock slips from your cunt — the obscene, slick sound of it slapping against his stomach filling the room.

You pant and press your hands down on his chest while he groans to the ceiling. “Shit, I—” Bucky’s eyes glaze over when he looks down at his body, the twitch of his cock in time with the hammering of his heart under your palm. “I didn’t mean to—”

You can’t help but giggle, and the sound immediately calms his worries — the cinch between his brows smoothing over as he looks up at you. “Don’t worry, baby.”

The movement of your hand towards his cock has his entire focus — his tongue moves over his lips, and you watch the shine of spit; how it makes his lips an even deeper red. “Oh, fuckin’— Fuck.”

His exclamation makes you freeze. “What’s wr—”

It clicks.

Though you took him in your heat, felt the pleasure he can give you, the realisation hits you like a freight train that not once this night had you felt the weight of his fully erect cock in your palm; to wrap your fingers around the length and work him over.

“I can’t—”

“Shh, you’re alright,” you soothe, and carefully, you wrap your hand around his girth. Your eyes widen when you can only just connect your thumb and fingers together. “Fuck me—” you gasp, beginning to lift yourself up to line him up to slide back in. “God — You can barely fit in my hand, baby. Here we go.”

It’s unclear to you what exactly causes Bucky to snap.

The room whirls in your vision and you gasp with surprise as his body suddenly shoots up and with ease from the mattress, flipping you over in one smooth, fluid motion. “Oh, fuck!”

One second your back is resting against the mattress, over the rumpled covers, and the next, your boyfriend's hands are pushing your thighs as far up your chest as they can go.

“I’m so sorry, Bee,” Bucky groans, kneeling between your spread legs — one hand holds your legs in place, the other brushes featherlight over your soaked lips. The sharp gasps for air make his voice sound hoarse and raspy.

He stares down at your pussy, licking his lips. “I can’t—” The fingers that danced over your lips move to grab his cock, encircling it in his large palm before he rests the head of it against the fluttering entrance of your cunt. “I can’t hold back anymore, need this.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to reply — the tip of his thumb brushes against your clit and you keen upwards, just as his cockhead slips into you. The slide of him easing into you is smooth, and the drag of his length stretches you inch by pleasurable inch.

“Oh my fucking god, baby!” Bucky bites the inside of your calf while you whine loudly, your walls clenching down onto him — a tear rolls down your cheek, the size of him is almost too much. “Yes!”

“Fuck, s’deep. I gotta move, Bubs — Please, lemme move.” His weight shifts to cover you, pinning you against the bed while he leans close to pepper needy kisses and bites over the column of your neck.

“Do whatever the fuck you want, Bucky, please,” you beg, “I want it all.”

Raising your arms up to hold the headboard, you steady yourself for what is to come, and offer yourself to him on a platter, free for his taking.

Immediately, his eyes dart towards the movement of your tits, the natural bounce of them with every aborted thrust he makes. “Hnng— Yes,” he rasps. The slow thrusts turn rough, his skin slapping against the back of your sweat-slick thighs.

Your nipples, hard and pebbled, become his new target. “I want every fuckin’ inch of you, Bee,” he growls, swooping down and sucking your nipple into his mouth.

The room spins from the dizzying pleasure; the veins on his cock scrape your walls, his wet tongue playing with you, the hairs above his cock teasing your clit. It all begins to wind the knot tighter and tighter in your stomach.

“I need more,” you gasp while Bucky drags your nipple with his teeth and releases it with a wet pop. Your arms slither around his neck and bring him into your hold. “Fuck, Bucky, please.”

Corded muscles move you up the bed, and he forces his forearms under your back to hold you close. “Whatever you want, baby.” The fast thrusts slow to a deep, dirty grind — the length of him going deeper and deeper on each circle of his hips. “Gonna— Fuck, gonna give you anythin’ you want.”

The two of you crash your lips together and whimper into the other's mouth — heavy breaths and pants mingle while your combined sweat builds between your heated bodies.

“Wanna cum, Buck,” you plead desperately. “Want you to make me cum; feel s’good in me.”

A huff of breath fans over your lips, and a sly, lopsided grin pulls at the corner of Bucky’s mouth. The covers rustle and from the corner of your eyes, you see him planting a hand beside your head, next to your ear. “Don’t you worry,” he coos shakily through his grunts and moans. “I’ve got ya, Bee.”

His free hand drifts between your breasts and over your stomach, down to where you are connected. You gasp as the pad of his thumb settles over your clit, and he rubs in tight, fast circles, keeping pace with the thrusts of his hips into your pussy.

Your thighs begin to shake as you cry into his neck, “Please, keep going — Don’t stop!”

“Come on, baby,” Bucky coaxes gently. “You can do it. You can cum for me — C’mon.”

The tension in your stomach becomes unbearable — you slap the covers of the bed and ball them into your fist for something to ground you against the onslaught. “I— Ha, fuck!” You heave for breath, panting. “I’m gonna cum!”

“Let go — Can feel you, how tight you fuckin’ are. I’ll catch you, Bee.”

Your ears ring as your eyes roll to the back of your head, the pleasure insurmountable in its height, when it finally hits you. You convulse through the waves of it, letting it consume you whole while ragged pants for air and hoarse moans fall from your parted lips. “Baby, baby — I’m cumming!”

He still continues to fuck you through your orgasm until the last tendrils of electricity run their course, leaving you a twitching mess.

An overwhelming urge to be close to Bucky forces your hands to blindly reach out to grasp a part of him. The tips of your fingers graze the warm skin of his bicep, and he suddenly pulls away entirely — your cunt gaping and weeping at the loss of him.

“Pup?” You whimper. “Come back, what are you doing?”

“I’m h— Here, Buttercup,” he manages. Unknown to you, the feel of your walls fluttering against his dick almost had him finishing inside of you. His length glistens with your cum, and Bucky has to close his eyes tight and breathe to control himself.

Stubborn as you are, you intertwine your hands with his and pull him into you, smirking lazily at his shocked gasp when his cock grazes over your cunt.

Strands of his slick hair tickle your cheeks, and his cheeks are a deep hue of red. “Why did you stop, sweetheart?” you ask. The pupils of his eyes blow impossibly further. “You made me cum so fucking hard.”

You’re delighted to hear the whine he tries so hard to hide. “I— I panicked,” he admits. “You almost made me cum.”

Looking down, you see his cock twitching viscously, like he’s about to blow any second. “Aw, baby.”

You grab his length and start stroking him in your fist — the twist and pump of your fist making him choke and sputter. “Buttercup— What are you— What are you doin’?

“Go on,” you urge him, squeezing his thick cock at the base, and twisting on the pull upwards. “Cum on me.”

“I—” Bucky shakes his head rapidly. “No— I can’t do that — Fuck this feels too good — Can’t finish on you—”

“Bucky,” you gently interrupt him. “I’m telling you that you can.”

But he shakes his head again, trying to hold out. “Fuck, fuck — Oh, fuck — Baby I can’t please, I—”

You click your tongue and tighten your hand around his cock, pumping him harder faster, a spark in your veins and mischief on your mind. “Why not, hm? I need it — Don’t you want to give me what I need?”

“Bee—” he pleads. “Don’t do this to me.”

Though his words say one thing, the way Bucky thrusts into your fist tells you another — he’s dying to cum, the throb of his cock in time with his rabbiting pulse.

You refuse to have him holding back because the voice in his head is sabotaging his pleasure.

“Please, baby,” you beg of him, blinking your eyes and reeling him in on your invisible line. “I want it. Give it to me.”

Bucky bows his head, the curtain of his hair concealing his blown-out eyes. There’s a heavy sigh of defeat from his lips. “Fuck, Bee— What the hell are you doin’ to me?”

Biting your lip, you move the fingers of your free hand up the back of his sweaty neck to thread them through the hair at the base of his neck, and you pull him down to rest his forehead against yours. A wicked grin dances on your lips. “I’m gonna make you cum for me.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, you speed up the pace, taking care to focus the pressure of your grip around the head of his cock.

“Oh—” Bucky chokes on his own spit, his toes curling while his hips work in tandem with the pumps from your fist.

“That’s it, Pup,” you murmur delicately, scraping your fingers over his scalp. “There’s a good boy.”

“Feels like fuckin’ heaven,” he slurs, whining as he seeks out your lips. “S’close, baby.”

You direct him, pulling him impossibly closer to slot your lips over his; tongue and teeth caressing with little finesse. “Give me it, Bucky — Please.” The words fall against his parted mouth.

“Gonna—“ The excitement for his climax builds when you feel his cock swell in your hand, the violent twitches of his mounting release. “Gonna cum, B— Buttercup.”

Lighting a fire to the match begging to burn, you tug his hair back in your fist, the grip tight and unyielding to bare his neck in an arch. The skin of his throat is damp with sweat, and the thunder of his pulse can be seen next to the frantic bob of his Adam’s apple. “Let go — Let go for me.” You lap at the sensitive skin with your tongue. “Make a mess of me with your big cock.”

The long wait, the weeks leading up to this very moment are entirely worth it when Bucky collapses onto you, his moans unending and agonisingly pleasureful. His hips stutter and thrust with no real rhythm while his cum shoots from the swollen head of his cock, painting your bare skin all the way up to your tits.

His release seems to never end, it pools over your stomach with no signs of slowing down.

Bucky trembles with the waves of pleasure, and he buries his face into your neck, nuzzling you to try and retreat from the nonstop sensation of release. Against the sheets, you can feel the way they rustle as his toes curl — the taut line of his shoulders makes him feel bigger while he shivers and jerks over you.

“Buttercup.” His palms frantically feel over your skin. “It won’t— Fuck — It’s not s—stopping.”

“Shhh,” you instantly soothe him, running your fingers through his hair and holding him close to you while you continue to pump your fist gently, milking him for all he’s got. “Almost there, Puppy — let it all go.”

Bucky sobs into your neck as the last few drops leak from his tip, and the pretty sounds of his moans vibrate against your chest. “Oh my god.”

“So fuckin’ good for me — Did so well, my sweet boy.”

Finally, his cock stops pulsating and begins to slowly soften in your hand. As carefully as possible, you remove your hand and smooth it over the heated skin of his waist. “Take it easy for me, baby,” you whisper, pressing a gentle kiss against his tear-stained cheek. “Remember to breathe.”

Bucky’s limbs loosen with the lull of your voice, and he eases his body down onto yours, letting you take his weight.

The two of you lay peacefully connected together, only your shared breathing to fill the quiet of your room. The needle on your vinyl long since raised, the song finishing with a gentle lull while you were wholly focused on him — much like the simmering high that had been building since your first kiss.

You are loath to interrupt the peace, but his heavy breathing told you that you will lose him to sleep any second now. “Bucky baby?”

When the rumble of his muffled, “Mhm,” tells you he’s returned back to you, you smile contentedly. “Do you think you’re able to let me clean you up now, hm?”

It's difficult to not laugh at the way he clings to you, tightening his hold and groaning, “No leavin’ me.” You smother the growing smirk creeping up your face.

The palms of your hands rub up and down his back, and you kiss the top of his head. “I’ll be quick, sweetheart. I promise.”

He sighs, much like a tired puppy, and begrudgingly slackens his arms and carefully lifts up off of you, rolling onto the bed next to you. “Hurry back, please.” The slight whine to his voice melts your heart.

“Thank you, baby.” You quickly shuffle off the bed, placing your feet on the floor. “I’ll be right back.” The floor creaks under your feet, and you rise from the edge of the bed, only, you overcompensate your judgement to hold your own weight so soon — the tremble of your thighs and weakness of your knees almost has you toppling to the floor. “Oh, boy.”

A snort of laughter sounds from behind you, and you look over your shoulder to find a dazed, smirking Bucky. “I did that to you,” he gloats drunkenly.

Your eyes widen in shock before you giggle along with him. “The cheek of you.”

Taking slow steps, you manage to make your way into your bathroom to retrieve a washcloth. You take the time to clean yourself up while sitting on the edge of the bathtub, smiling like an idiot to yourself and rebuffing the urge to squeal.

Upon walking out of the bathroom, your keen eyes catch the subtle peek Bucky makes through the mess of his hair, the wandering of his gaze over your still naked body.

The blush that covers his cheeks and neck when he sees that you have caught him staring is endearing, when only moments ago he was inside of you, desperate and moaning for more.

To humour his shyness, you choose to pretend you didn’t see, and you make your way back to him. It is a true struggle to not give in to the twitching strain of the muscles in your thighs, or how your knees almost buckle from under you.

“Here we go, baby,” you sigh happily, both from seeing his soft smile and how you made it to the plush mattress without falling over.

The warm cloth in your hand goes ignored by Bucky in favour of wrapping his arms around your middle, and he pulls you backwards into the covers until you are propped up on one side of your bed.

You hum warmly while wiping the mess of Bucky’s lower stomach, though you pause when you hover, uncertain, over his softened cock. “Am I okay to clean you up, baby?”

Looking up at you with his puppy eyes, he nods sleepily. “You’re okay, Bee.”

Taking care to be gentle, you wipe his most sensitive area and once satisfied, you toss the cloth towards the hamper of your room in favour of sideling up to Bucky. In the process, you turn onto your side and frame his face with your hands, waiting for his eyes to focus on you before asking, “How are we doing, handsome?”

The sound of his small laugh couldn’t make you happier, and his pearly whites gleam with his bright smile. “You’re gonna be the death of me, Buttercup.”

You giggle, a little high from the comedown too. “I take it that’s a good thing?”

He groans deeply and licks his lips. “Absolutely.”

You shiver and swat his chest. “Don’t be looking at me like that, you menace.”

Bucky hums sweetly. “It was amazing— No, wait. It was better than that.” His eyebrows furrow in thought. “It was — Um— Can’t think of the word — Oh, I’ve got it! Astronomical.”

Exhaustion is beginning to kick in for him, the very last dregs of his energy is being used to be a comedic clown — you fall for him even more.

A sudden, hesitant doubt creeps into his eyes, the need for reassurance coming forth. “Was it—” He pauses, his eyes searching yours. “Was it okay for you?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” you coo. The sheets underneath your body rustle as you lay down more comfortably, and you guide his head to lay on your chest, over your heart. “It was perfect — you were perfect.” Kissing the top of his head, you drive his worries away. “Trust me when I say it was fucking incredible.”

The tenseness of his muscles begins to ease away. “Thank you…” Bucky hesitates, then moves even closer to you — once he is close enough for his liking, he angles his head up to blink at you dazedly. The emotion in his voice makes it waver when he says, “Thank you for taking care a’me.”

“Always, my sweet boy.” You look down, watching his eyes droop. “It’s all I ever want to do.”

“You’re so amazing, Buttercup,” he exhales blissfully. “So lucky to have you.”

Your heart beats out of your chest. “I feel the exact same way.” Unsure you could handle any more of his sweetness, you mumble, “Now get some sleep, Puppy.”

“Hmph — Fine.” He gives in, finally closing his eyes. “G’night, my Bee.”

Resting your head on your pillow, you brush your finger over his forehead, sweeping his hair out of his eyes while you sigh contentedly. “Goodnight, baby boy.”

Warmth floods your heart and a happiness like no other fills your bones, making you glow from the inside out. You’re not sure this night could be any better, and with that thought, you know you’ll rest easy tonight with the man of your dreams huddled in your arms.

On the verge of surrendering to sleep, the quiet of the night is disrupted by Bucky's sleepy mumble, “I loves you.”

Your eyes shoot back open, and you instantly look down, finding your boyfriend’s cheek squished against your breast with a little bit of drool gathering in the corner of his parted lips.

“Bucky?” you whisper, the quick thump of your heart stealing your breath. There isn’t a response, not even a twitch of acknowledgement. With more urgency, you whisper, “Bucky?”

This time you get a small, soft snore in reply.

You lay your head back down onto your pillow to stare up at the ceiling. The thoughts and doubts swirl viciously, the intensity of each and every one making you gulp, though one stands out among the rest: did he just confess his love for me?

There was the possibility of you hearing things — the comedown of the high you’ve been floating on messing with your head.

It’s not long before all of the day’s events catch up with you. The slowing blinks of your eyelids lasting longer and longer each time; the laxness of your muscles as they settle in for a much-needed sleep. But the question on your mind bears a heavy weight while you succumb to sleep.

Does Bucky love me?

The rays of the morning sun shining through the white drapes either side of your window are the first thing you become aware of as you wake up the next morning. With your eyes closed, you can see the yellow and amber glow of the sunrise.

A strong envelopment of warmth and comfort keeps you rooted in place, as well as the heavy weight of an arm across your middle. You don’t want to move from your spot, you don’t want to wake up yet; still basking in the afterglow of yesterday’s events.

But the second sensation, the mantra of light fingertips mapping over your face tips the balance of sleep overtaking you in favour of letting your consciousness creep to the surface.

Lastly, the final push, the soft, steady puffs of air tickling your nose persuades you to wave your white flag and flutter your eyes open.

The blurriness of sleep forces you to blink until the fog clears your vision — once you’re able to see the dancing, warm light of the sun, you’re given the gift of your handsome boyfriend, already awake, admiring you with his bright blue ocean eyes.

They’re the most clear they have ever been.

The lined skin besides his eyes crinkle when he smiles, the pull of it making his nose scrunch adorably. “Bee,” he whispers, his voice rough from sleep. “Good mornin’.”

It's a damn killer, the expression of his face — full of true elation and contentment, and it has you falling in love all over again.

That’s when it hits you — the memory of last night, and what you think you heard him say when he was half asleep.

Trepidation makes your nerves impossible to conceal, especially when Bucky is noticing every minute expression on your face. It's only a matter of time before the natural courage, granted to you with the haze of the morning, fades away.

With a heavy gulp, you open your mouth and lick your lips. “Did, uh— Did you—?” The words die on your tongue.

Bucky’s thumb gently presses against your lips, his head gently shaking from side to side — a secret he wishes to keep just between the two of you, not shared with the birds that sing outside your window or the rays of the hopeful morning sun.

Your eyes are wide, beginning to water with the anxiety coiling inside your chest.

The crippling worry, however, dissolves when Bucky runs the pad of his thumb over your lips, the motion of back and forth touch grounding you. His eyes find their home deep into yours, and he finally speaks, “I love you.”

And it’s with an ease, one that has you cursing your inner voice for ever doubting yourself, you say those three words that battled to be said so, so long ago. “I love you, too.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #new tricks masterlist #new tricks #sebstanwhore

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elllisaaa · 11 months ago

Text

LOST THE GAME - JAKE. S

SUMMARY : what was supposed to be the least interesting class of your semester turned out to be the most passionating one when you met jake sim and his tendency to tease. but two could play a game, right ?

-> pairing : college mate!jake x fem!reader

-> words count : 15k

-> genre : college au, smut

-> warnings : switch!jake x switch!reader, teasing, dirty talk, sexting, phone sex, mutual masturbation, praising, dry humping, marking, hair pulling, doggy, unprotected sex, creampie, body worship, use of 'good girl', 'good boy' and 'slut', oral (f. and m. receiving), deep throating, cum play, manhandling, quick mention of choking, fingering, begging, riding, panties sniffing, jake is down bad for yn (yes, that's a warning), nipple play, jake is asking consent a lot and it's sexy.

+ the way i'm depicting jake does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction.

-> 18+ content bellow, minors dni

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language

-> author's note : here we are, my not so little gift for you for valentine's day ! i hadn't planned something at first, but it turned out that i finished this not too long before so i decided to post it on this day. it's the first really long fic that i'm posting here, but i enjoy writing them so much ! shoot out to @xhdream that started it all by sending me a gif of jake during our christmas family gathering and messed with my mind 😭😔. this ended up being really self-indulgent but i hope you'll like it as much as i do !

-> masterlist | enha masterlist

PLAYLIST

🎵 lost the game by two feet

🎶 meddle about by chase atlantic

🎵 i'll make you love me by kat leon

🎶 more by i.m

🎵 it's not easy for you by misamo

🎶 more than friends by isabel la rosa

Leaving all your friends and family for college was not easy. Your freshman year was really hard, having to manage your classes and doing a part time job to be able to afford your rant, and being in a brand new city you didn’t know anything about, nor had any friends to help and support you. You felt on the edge of giving up just before your finals, but that was when you met your best friend, Yeji. She really was a gift, always smiley and willing to cheer you up. Without her, you really didn’t know if you could have continued university, or got your life back together at all.

But now, here you were, currently in your third year at college, happy and confident about your future. And you really didn’t want to mess it up, so you remained serious, and worked hard to have the grades you got. Even if for some people, psychology was not a “real” major, it was for you, and it was what you wanted to do for your whole life. And you sometimes wondered how they could say that when you had to take science classes. At first, you were not so excited to follow them, thinking that it would be just another thing you would have to study just for the exams and never remember again, but someone made you change your mind.

Jake was not in the same major as you, that was why you didn’t see him before the start of this semester but he immediately caught your eyes. Well, it would have been hard not to notice him, or you would’ve been blind, because he was really good looking. He was the cliché of the hot college fuckboy, the one so many rumors were spread about, the one who had supposedly hooked up with half of the campus.

Despite that, you were not one to have prejudices against people you didn’t know, so you gave him a chance, mainly because he was attractive and exactly your type, and also because he seemed to be the only other student to be invested in this class. Surprisingly, he was always participating, sometimes before you even had the chance to do so, and he was doing his work everytime. And so on, he became even more your type because smart people were automatically the most fuckable in your eyes.

However, you tried to not let your interest in him show. It seemed like he already had an ego, you were not here to fuel it even more. So you stuck to staring at him during your shared classes, under the excuse that you were only closely listening to his answers to your professor's questions. That was until he suddenly decided to sit down by your side on one random Thursday.

“- Is that seat taken, or can I ?”

You lifted your head, even if you had grown familiar to the sound of his voice by now, seeing Jake, waiting for your approval with a grin on his face. Well, he was asking kindly and really, you could not refuse to have your crush sit with you. You simply nobbed, taking off your bag from the chair so he could sit down.

“- Thanks !

- No problem.”

Regardless of the confidence you were trying to keep on, you were feeling incredibly nervous. It was the first time you and Jake were this close. Sure, you had talked to each other before, picking up on something one of you had said in class to add other information or to correct each other. But that was it, nothing more. So to suddenly have him so close to you was very strange, but at the same time, you were giddy, like a high-schooler confessing her love to her first crush.

“- Did you understand the paper we had to read for today ?”

Jake's voice straddled you as you were lost in your thoughts, but you quickly composed yourself again, doing your best to hold his intense gaze.

“- Yeah. Or at least, I think so, but I struggled a little bit at first. Why did you want to know ?

- Well, you’re the only one except me that seems to give a damn about this class, and you’re smart, so I thought that maybe you could help me, because I didn’t understand anything !”

You chuckled at the defeated tone he used for his last words, perfectly getting his disappointment of not assimilating a new thing immediately, it was frustrating. But at the same time, butterflies erupted in your stomach at the thought of Jake having noticed you. And he was saying you were smart on top of that ? What started as a not so good day was turning into a much better one.

“- Of course, no problem. We have some time left before Mr. Lee arrives, so maybe we could go over the paper and you stop me every time there’s something you didn’t get ?

- Works for me ! Thank you Y/N.”

The way he said your name had you fighting demons not to blush and try to concentrate on bacteria and immune system instead of his bright smile and beautiful face. But it was not easy to stay focused when he brought his chair closer to yours so he could have a better view of the drawings you were making to materialize what was explained in the paper. You could feel Jake’s warmth through your clothes and it was so hard to resist the urge to turn your head and just look at him. Thanks to some magical forces surely, you got to the end of it when your professor entered the classroom, greeting his students.

“- It’s so much easier when you explain everything to me, you’re very good at that, you know ?”

And he was at it again with the compliments, and you were trying to repress a stupid smile from eating up your face once again, whispering when you answered him in order not disturb Mr. Lee, who had already started today’s lesson.

“- I’m glad I could help.”

Jake's response came in the way of a smile before the two of you started to take notes of what your professor was saying, not having much time to discuss throughout the class. These lectures were always very intense but also very interesting, so you didn’t mind the fast rhythm with which you were approaching each subject. You thought about asking Jake his number at the end of the class, just in case he had another problem with something related to this class of course ! A few years back, you wouldn’t even have dared to consider something like that, but right now you were thinking “why not ?” If anything, he would say no and end of the story. So as you were packing up your things, you started to get your phone out when you were interrupted by Jake once again.

“- I have a class now, but if I could have your number it would be very helpful, because there’s still some things I can’t get a grasp of, if you don’t mind of course !”

You smiled back, taking his phone and typing your number in the new contact he had created before handing the device back to him.

“- Actually, I was going to give it to you anyway. You’re pretty smart too, and you’re funny so it’s not a waste of time.”

Jake chuckled as he put his phone in his back pocket after checking the time. He was going to be late to his next class, but who cared when he finally got to talk to the girl he had a crush on since the beginning of the year ? Certainly not him.

“- I’ll make it worth it, promise ! Huh, I really have to go but I’ll text you later pretty.”

With a wink, he was gone and left you behind with a beating heart and a stupidly big grin stretching out your lips.

From this day on, Jake sat next to you every time you shared your science classes. And even if the seat was empty last week because Yeji was sick that day, she happily let the guy take her place with a knowing look on her face, wiggling her eyebrows every time he walked in and greeted you. You acted annoyed every time, but really, it was funny how supportive she was - sometimes, you worried that she was more excited about the whole situation than yourself.

“- Is it Jakey again ?”

You rolled your eyes as you picked up your phone from the kitchen counter where Yeji and you had spread all your work sheets and textbooks to study. It was Sunday, and you often reserved it to work together and then relax with a movie, while doing each other's skincare and gossiping.

When you first came to the city for college, you had rented a small apartment with another girl you didn’t know. At the end of your freshman year, she left and since Yeji was searching for a new place to stay because her last roommate was insufferable, you had proposed to her that you live together. She really was the best friend you could ask for, and also the best roommate. But sometimes, just sometimes, you wished she didn’t know you so well as she fake gaged when you laughed at the last text Jake had, indeed, sent to you. You wrote a quick answer before going back to your cognitive psychology assignment.

“- And what if it is him ? You’re jealous ?

- Of a man ? Never !”

Both of you laughed at her remark, not able to hold back yourselves after being focused for such a long time and having spent the whole afternoon studying.

“- No but seriously, what do you think of him ?”

You were not one to let other people direct the way you acted or lead you on to choices you wouldn’t have made by yourself but you valued Yeji’s opinion, and she always had something to say about your crushes. Sensing that the subject was no longer meaningless, your best friend put her pen down, thinking for some time about your question.

“- Well, you know all the rumors about him right ?”

You nodded. Of course you knew, especially since you started to talk with Jake two months ago, you paid a lot more attention to the conversations of other students about him. They were all saying that he was a typical frat boy, going to parties, not caring about going to school, and fooling around with every girl he found attractive. But you already knew that a part of that was not true. He was often sending you some parts of texts or lessons he didn’t understand for you to explain, he was really invested in what he was doing, and he had even told you that he was not here to skip classes.

“- And you also know that Lia is friends with his roommate Jay ?”

Again, you nobbed. You knew Lia too, because she was one of Yeji’s childhood friends. You were a little less close to her but she really was a very sweet girl, and you loved to spend time with her.

“- She told me that Jake was not how everyone is depicting him. Apparently, it’s only because he’s spending time with Heeseung and his frat, and because he hooked up with a random girl at a party during our freshman year. And from there, people created him a reputation, and he never really tried to deny it because, well, everyone would assume that based on his looks and who he’s hanging out with.

- I guess, yeah. I thought that too when I first met him. And that doesn’t surprise me, he cares too much about his studies to be a frat boy.”

Yeji laughed again, detaching her long, ginger, hair from the hair clip that was holding them in place.

“- I agree, he’s too smart too, and too sweet with you. He genuinely seems like a good guy, and not every guy out there gets your humor so…”

You threw a random highlighter in her direction, pretending to be vexed by her comment.

“- And I didn’t see you smile so much since that dick left you this summer, so I sadly have to validate him.”

Yeji let out a defeated sigh while shaking her head, making you smile again. It was true that you had a hard time because of your “ex”, if you could really label him like that. He was just a guy you met at a party just after your finals were over, and from there, you started to be in some kind of situationship, that was becoming serious for you, but not for him apparently since he left you over a single text and not even an apology. But you were fully over it now, and ready to welcome someone in your life - and bed - again.

“- I’m glad you’re thinking the same.”

She simply gave you a smile before stretching her arms over her head, repressing a yawn as she did so.

“- I’m thinking about wrapping up this study session and getting on to the movie.

- Oh my god, yes, thank you ! My brain stopped working one hour ago !”

You both started to tidy up the counter, putting your sheets back in your binder and your pens back in your case.

“- You order while I’m hopping in the shower ?

- No problem ! Pizza and sushi ?

- You know me so well !”

You giggled as Yeji disappeared in her room, closing the door behind her and letting you finish with your mess. When your phone received another notification, you picked it up again, not holding back your smile when you saw Jake’s contact name popping up this time.

jakey : wow ! working on a sunday ? you have a stronger will than me ! you : ahah only because i’m not doing it alone ! otherwise, i would lie in my bed all day, not doing anything lmao what are you doing ? jakey : [attachement : 1 image] just relaxing while watching a movie it’s pretty boring tho…

You were not expecting this photo to be a shirtless one of Jake, sprawled out on his bed, and looking at the camera with a pout on his face. You had to pick up your jaw from the floor and mentally stop yourself from drooling over his abs, and his chest, and his arms, and the gray sweatpants hanging low on his waist. Was that flirting ? It was, for sure. Why would he send you that if it wasn’t ? But how could you respond to that ? Sending a picture of the same type seemed a little too provocative, and you didn’t want to interpret the signs wrong. If he was doing this after only two months, what would he be willing to do in a few weeks ? You were curious to see how far he would go to seduce you.

jake : why are you not answering pretty ? too busy checking me out ? 😉 you : in your dreams. jake : oh yeah, don’t worry about that, my dreams are already filled with your cute face.

You didn’t dare ask him what he meant by that, busying your mind by ordering your dinner and trying to get the image of Jake’s chest out of your mind.

The whole task of not getting your hopes up revealed to be a lot more difficult than you thought it would be when the universe seemed to team up against you. Or at least, you saw it like that as your professor was listing the groups for the new project of the semester.

“- Y/N and Jake, I want you two together for this. Usually, I’d put you in a weaker group to help but I’m very curious to see what you can do when working hand in hand. And that’s all for today everyone, I’ll see you next week and don’t forget to tell me the angle your presentation will address.”

You couldn’t believe that Mr. Lee really did this. It was not that you were horrified by the idea of having to work with Jake, it was the contrary, really, but it also meant spending a lot of time together, because you wanted your presentation to be perfect. You would have to go to the library together, or go work at his dorm, or invite him to your apartment, and all that will certainly not help you to stop your little - or rather big - crush on him, and neither will it help you to stay focused.

“- You don’t seem so delighted by the news, pretty.”

His voice interrupted your thoughts, and you lifted your head to meet his pouty face, the one he always had on when he was trying to get your attention. It was cute. And his puppy eyes were too. And there, you were feeling all fuzzy inside once again.

“- Who would be delighted to know that we have a presentation that counts for half of the final note to do before the end of the month ?

- When you put it this way… But I was not really talking about that.”

You sighed as you stood up, checking the time because you had to join Lia and Yeji at your favourite café soon.

“- I know Jake. I have to go but I’ll text you later to let you know when I am free so we can start to work on that. Bye.”

Jake stood there, mouth slightly open as if he wanted to add something but couldn’t with how fast you left. All this made him wonder if he read the signs wrong or not. He didn’t imagine the way you were often staring at him. He didn’t miss the few times your eyes flicked down to his lips when he was talking to you. He didn’t imagine the way you were shivering every time he touched you, intentionally or not. He didn’t miss how you were always smiling when he was teasing you, even if you tried to look annoyed.

Or was it only pretending ? Jake didn’t know anymore. But you were not the type of girl to do that, right ? He watched you from afar since he saw you for the first time in this science class, noticing how kind you were with everyone, how funny you were, how pretty you looked, and he also noted how many boys tried to hit on you, and how many of them you sent away.

That was why he approached you as a friend. Because at least, even if he didn’t succeed in charming you, you could be friends. And it worked until now, you were getting closer and he even saw you blush one or two times when he made a flirty joke. So he didn’t understand why you were like that today. Maybe it was only a bad day for you, you seemed off and didn’t participate as much as usual. It should be that, yeah. That, or Jake was a total fool.

“- You know the rules Y/N ! You’re late, you pay !”

You sighed but got your wallet out. You were rarely late anyway, so it was not often that you had to pay for the three of you. Your two friends had already ordered your favourite drink and you made your way to the counter to pay before returning to your table and finally relaxing for the first time since you woke up.

“- You seem exhausted today.”

You nodded at Lia’s word, taking a sip of your caramel latte before answering her indirect question.

“- I am. I’ve been running all day ! I was late to my first class because my bus times changed and I didn’t know, so I had to wait for the next one and you know Mr Kim, he hates it when we are late and he literally humiliated me in front of the whole class. Then, I realized that I had forgotten the assignment that I had to hand back for one of my lectures, so I had to rush home to get it on my lunch time and couldn’t eat. And the cherry on top is that Mr Lee paired me up with Jake Sim for our next presentation.

- Wow ! That’s a lot, my dear !”

You nodded again, leaning against Yeji’s shoulder to seek some affection and comfort.

“- Well, all that sucks, but I don’t see how having to spend more time with your crush can be a bad thing ?

- It’s not ! That’s the worst part, I think that he thinks that I don’t want to work with him because I was so dry when I talked to him today, and he looked like a kicked puppy and now I feel guilty.”

Lia reached over to stroke your arm and try to make you feel a little bit better. She knew that you could spiral about the smallest thing you were saying or doing sometimes, overthinking every interaction you had with other people.

“- Just apologize next time, and that should be good. This is nothing that you can’t fix.

- Why are you always right ?”

The blonde shrugged before taking a sip of her own drink, while Yeji led the conversation to how her own day went. But you couldn’t stop thinking about how Jake’s smile fell when he sensed that you were not as enthusiastic as him to work together. You took your phone out, opting to send him a text now, even if you knew that he would not answer right away because he still had some other classes.

you : i am free this weekend and wednesday afternoon to work on the project. and sorry if i was too harsh earlier, i just had a really bad day, it was nothing against you.

You shut off your phone, not expecting a notification to light up the screen just seconds after your last message, trying to hold back a smile from stretching your lips.

jakey : this weekend seems good, but i’m going back to my parents so we’ll have to facetime 😉 don’t worry about that pretty, i figured it was not me you were mad at i’m here if you need to talk. you : i’m good now, but thank you, you’re sweet i’m staying here so call me when you have a moment. and stop texting while you’re in class, idiot !

As he answered you again just to tease you, the weight on your chest flew away. Jake really was a sweet guy, you just couldn’t believe that he was interested in you. He was popular around the campus, whether because of all the rumors about him - mostly false, but they were spreading fast - or because he was incredibly handsome, and a lot of girls were after him, numerous of whom were prettier than you. That was why you had so much trouble understanding why he chose to text you so much. It was not like you to doubt yourself like that, but for some reason, Jake was making you really nervous. Maybe because it was the first time in a while you were really interested in somebody, past just physical attraction, and you didn’t want to fuck it up.

You read Jake's last text again, the one in which he was telling you that he was going to call you in five minutes, just the time for him to gather all the things he needed to work, and you couldn’t stop biting your nails. There was no logical reason for you to be so stressed out about facetiming with him, especially since it was only to talk about a school project, but you were. You checked your appearance in the little mirror above your desk one more time, but didn’t really get the time to fix your hair, your phone ringing straddling you as you picked up the call immediately, setting up the device against your laptop so it would stay in place without you needing to hold it.

“- Hi pretty !

- Hi Jake, how you doing ?”

You tried to ease your mind by making small talk with him, but you were distracted every now and then by how veiny his hands were, or by how comfortable his thigh looked to sit on, pressing your own together to stop the warmth spreading in your lower half. It was really not the moment to think about that, even if it was not the first time nor would it be the last.

“- Did you have an idea of how we could talk about this in an original way ? Because I’m warning you, I don’t want this to be only a boring, classical presentation.”

Jake's deep voice as he chuckled sent your mind to other places you shouldn’t go while working on a science group project.

“- I should have known you’ll be like this. I’ll send you the research I’ve done so far and you tell me if you see something interesting.”

This was enough to get you to concentrate back on what you had to do, and as soon as you chose your angle, you started to work properly, sometimes making comments that made the other laugh. However, Jake was not able to focus on the article in front of him, too immersed in the contemplation of your figure to get anything done.

Why did you have to wear this fucking top ? The straps wouldn’t stop falling off from your shoulders, showing a little more skin of your cleavage everytime it did, before you’ll put them in place again. And he could see that you were not wearing a bra, your nipples poking through the material of your top, allowing him to think about how much he wanted to see you naked, how much he wished he could touch them, lick them, suck on them. Your hair were put up in a messy ponytail, and with your glasses on and the serious look on your face, he couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel to fuck you from behind for some obscure reasons.

And well, it seemed like he got a little too entranced by his own thoughts because Jake could feel his cock twitch in his pants. Swearing under his breath, he turned around in his desk chair to grab a pillow from his bed and put it on his lap. He didn’t want you to notice that he was hard, the risk being that you would take him for a pervert, which he maybe was but he didn’t want you to think that of him. He was trying to be the perfect, sweet guy. He wanted to take you on proper dates, and offer you flowers before initiating anything sexual between the two of you, even if it was you he saw every time he was jerking off, even if he sometimes had to go to the bathroom after your shared classes because the vision of your thighs in a skirt was enough to make him pop a boner.

Sadly, the shuffling sounds he made while reaching for his pillow intrigued you enough for you to lift your head and look what Jake was doing, seeing him quickly put the cushion on his lap before going back to taking notes about the article. You weren’t thinking about something naughty for once, only up to tease him a little bit.

“- What’s with the pillow ? Are you hard or something ?”

Your smirk widened when you saw his ears grow red. It was the first time you were witnessing a blushing Jake, and well, the view was interesting and too funny to let it slide.

“- Don’t tell me you really are ?”

Jake didn’t dare to look at you anymore, his gaze lost in contemplating one of the posters on his walls, so much more interesting right ? How could he explain himself to you without saying anything disrespectful, because the thoughts he was having just before weren’t really ones a well-mannered and polite guy should have. All he wanted right now was to be swallowed by the floor and bury himself six feet under.

“- What were you thinking about ? Me ?”

At the way Jake lowered his head even more, you figured that it was, in fact, you that got him hard. And what was supposed to be a silly little joke turned into a whole lot more. The way your laugh died in your throat when you realized made Jake feel even more nervous that he had really made you uncomfortable and that you wouldn’t want to see his face ever again.

“- I-I am really sorry… Please, don’t think that I'm a creep Y/N ! It’s just… Fuck ! You’re just so hot with your glasses, and your top won’t stop showing your skin, and that’s so embarrassing but it turns me on how smart you are and you explain to me all these things like it’s the easiest thing you’ve ever come across.”

You couldn’t believe what you just heard, and it was apparently showing as Jake spared you a glance and turned away immediately, groaning about how stupid he was, and that you could insult him as much as you wanted if it made you feel better.

“- Jake, just stop and look at me.”

It took some seconds for him to do so. It was a good thing you didn’t decide to end the call and your friendship with him already, he was not going to talk again and push his luck. When his eyes finally landed on you, he gulped loudly, trying to stop himself from getting turned on even more by the intense look you gave him.

“- Show me.

- W-What !?

- Show me what I do to you. And maybe I’ll show you what you’re doing to me.”

It was Jake's turn to not believe his ears. He must have looked so dumb, with his mouth hanging open and blinking repeatedly without saying anything because you chuckled cutely at him, pushing your chair back a little. And this time, when you let the straps of your top fall down, it was done on purpose, encouraging Jake to throw away that damn pillow and allow you to take in the appealing view of his boner. He was wearing these grey sweatpants again, and you couldn’t help licking your lips when you imagined how big his dick would be.

“- I wanna see more, this is not enough for me to forgive you.”

Even if his heart was about to burst out of his chest, a little smirk started to spread on his face. He wasn’t in a position to negotiate, but he liked the game you were leading him into. And your wish was his command. Without a word, Jake got rid of his shirt, throwing the piece of clothing away before looking back at you, happy to find you biting your lips while checking him out.

“- Like what you see ?

- Don’t be so cocky, you still have to make it up to me.

- And what do you want, pretty ?”

You pretended to think about it, using it as an excuse to drool over his abs a little longer. Because yeah, Jake was insanely hot, and even if you didn’t want him to see how affected you were, your drenched panties should be enough of a clue.

“- I want to see you jerk off for me. And I want you to tell me all the things you’ve been thinking about doing to me.”

Jake immediately stood up from his desk chair, throwing his sweatpants and boxer away while a quiet “fuck” fell from his lips, bringing a smirk to your face. This was getting way more interesting than science. When he sat down again, you only needed to tilt your head to the side for him to start stroking his cock slowly, releasing a sigh that had you pressing your thighs together to try and relieve some of the pressure you felt building up. Your eyes couldn’t leave his hard dick, wondering about how good he would fill you up, how good he would feel inside of you.

“- So ? Aren’t you going to say anything ?”

The sound of his hand around his cock was starting to resonate in his room, spreading his pre-cum onto his shaft and going faster. He couldn’t help but feel embarrassed about you wanting to know his fantasies about yourself, sitting there so prettily but still fully clothed, while he was jerking off for your eyes only.

“- I-I thought a lot about… About fucking you, especially when you’re wearing these damn skirts.

- What about my skirts ? Don’t you like them ?”

If he wasn’t already blushing, he was definitely right now, not only because of his confession, but mostly because your pouty lips had him thinking about sliding his cock between them and he felt close to cumming already just because of this, just because you were playing with him and he loved it a little too much.

“- Fuck ! I do, I do, but they make me want to eat you out so bad, you have no idea how hard it is to sit next to you when you have them on.”

Jake closed his eyes for a few seconds, missing your proud smile as you watched his face scrunch up in pleasure. Since he did nothing but listen to you – and make you even more wet – you decided to reward him by removing your tank top, letting him finally see your breast.

“- You’re so hot Y/N… I wanna touch you…

- But you’ll just have to watch for now, okay ?”

For now ? Jake didn’t want to dig on what you meant, too entranced by the sight of your hands coming up to play with your nipples like he dreamt about doing, forcing another moan out of his mouth. How bad he wished he was the one massaging your boobs right now, how bad he wanted them in his mouth and your hands tugging on his hair.

“- I want to see more of you, pretty, please…”

Your eyes shifted from his dick to his face, your mouth watering at his fucked out look zeroing on your hands on your chest and fingers pinching your nipples. But hearing Jake beg for you was too pleasing, you needed more of his pleas, more of his airy moans. It was like a drug you were slowly becoming addicted to.

“- Beg some more, and I’ll think about it.

- Please Y/N, please, it’s not fair, I want to see your pussy, been dreaming about it, please.”

The fact that he didn’t even hesitate before doing it made your head spin with want, clouding your mind with lust as you got rid of your clothes too and sat down in front of the camera again.

“- Shit ! You’re so fucking hot pretty, making me want to fuck you so bad.

- I really wished you were here Jake, wished you could be the one touching me like that.”

As you were talking, you spread your legs for him, your feet sitting on your desk so he had a full view of your soaked pussy and your little fingers playing with your clit.

“- Is it enough for you ? Or do you want even more ?”

The way Jake’s tongue poked out of his mouth to lick his lips had you thinking back to him eating you out, and how good that would feel. A soft whimper escaped you when you slipped two fingers into your hole, too excited to wait for his answer. The way he was lazily stroking his cock was driving you insane, and you didn’t care if you looked desperate for him anymore, because you were and all you wanted was him right now.

“- Would feel so much better if it was your fingers…

- You don’t know how much I want that… You’re so wet, you’re dripping everywhere baby, fuck ! I want to lick your pretty cunt so bad….”

Another moan rolled off your tongue, closing your eyes for a second before opening them again because you didn’t want to miss the show Jake was putting on for you, his hand moving way faster now that he got to witness your naked body and the sinful vision you offered him. Your fingers couldn’t reach that spot you knew he could have, knew that his long hands would be perfect for you.

“- You want that pretty ? Want me to eat your pussy ?

- Oh god, yes ! Please Jake, I need it, I need you…”

The way you were saying his name, full of lust and desire, had him coming close to the edge already. He wished he was with you right now, wished he could hear you scream it again and again, wished you would beg him more and more.

“- I need you too, need you to sit on my cock and ride me.”

He was sitting in the perfect position for you to do just that, and the image wouldn’t leave your mind. You abandoned your nipple to play with your clit, your thighs shaking as you approached your climax.

“- I’m so close, feels so good…

- Me too… Cum for me Y/N.”

This was all you needed for your orgasm to wash over you, clenching so hard around your fingers you could barely move them anymore, circling your clit until it felt too much. Jake had to bite his lips and quickly remind himself that he was not home alone to hold himself back from releasing a litany of filthy moans as he spilled all over his abs, covering them in his release that you wanted to lick off from his body so badly.

During a moment, the only sound was the one of your heavy breathing, trying to get a hold of what just happened. As you were about to say something, a knock against your door interrupted your thoughts, eyes widening in surprise. You rushed to end the call with Jake, not even taking the time for a goodbye before dressing up quickly and trying to not look like you just had the best orgasm of your life as you opened the door of your bedroom.

“- Are you alright ? I thought I heard you scream…”

You smiled innocently at your Yeji, hoping that she would not interrogate you further because your legs were still weak and trembling and your face was obviously flushed.

“- Oh, yeah, I just hit my toes against the bed, that’s why.”

Luckily, she seemed to accept your excuse and you plopped down on your bed after closing the door behind you. What the fuck just happened ? Did you really have sex over a facetime with Jake ? It was usually something you dreamt about but that never occurred in real life. But with the way he was blowing up your phone, there was no way this was not true.

If you thought that this would ease the tension between the two of you, you were definitely wrong. Because when you saw each other for the first time after this one call, you felt ten times more attracted to him than before, almost getting wet just seeing him smirk at you as you entered the classroom. Sure, you had texted each other during the week, but neither one of you dared to address the subject directly, too embarrassed and afraid that it would ruin everything.

But you couldn’t lie : you wore the shortest skirt you owned today on purpose, only because you wanted a reaction out of him. And a reaction you got. As soon as Jake took in your entire outfit, his gaze darkened, mouth opening just enough for his tongue to dart out and lick his lips as if he wanted to devour you. If you weren’t wet already, now, your panties were definitely soaked with the way he was eying you up and down.

“- Hi Jake ! How was your weekend ? Must have been great to see your parents.”

He didn’t expect you to strike up such a casual conversation with him, but his mind was already far away, staring at the way your skirt rode up your thighs when you sat down, revealing even more of your skin. Jake had to turn his gaze away from you for a few moments to focus back on how to form sentences and answer you.

“- It was cool, yeah. And how was yours ? Did you have fun ?

- Actually, it was very fun. Something interesting happened.”

The grin stretching out your lips didn’t go unnoticed, Jake’s eyes zeroing on them and wishing he could kiss you right now, wishing he could have you grinding down on his lap and making out with him. He was snapped out of his daydreaming when Mr.Lee entered the classroom loudly, as usual.

“- Hello everyone ! Today you’re gonna work on your projects, and I’ll come see where all of you are so I can help you if you need it.”

Working together turned out to be way more complicated than you thought it would. Jake wouldn’t stop subtly caressing your arms or your hands, coming way more closer to you than necessary when you had something to show him, his thigh pressed against yours underneath the table. But two could play a game, right ? Too bad you dropped your pen on the floor and had to get up to pick it up. Too bad your skirt was so short that when you bent over, Jake could catch a glimpse of your panties. Too bad the hand you landed on his thigh to get his attention was so close to his crotch.

By the end of the class, you were just dying to come back home and relieve the unbearable heat you were feeling, almost squirming in your chair. If he had you wrecked with only that, you didn’t dare to think of how good he would actually be able to ruin you. But what was infuriating was how he didn’t even seem to be affected by the whole situation, despite his leg bouncing up and down, and his lips swollen from biting them. Still, you wanted to get back at him. After all, it was his fault if your call took another turn, and it was his fault your panties were ruined right now.

With how fast you escaped the classroom, Jake didn’t expect you to ask him to meet up, especially in an area he knew was unknown by most students. His body was tingling in anticipation, wondering what you were going to do next. Maybe he loved this little game too much, and maybe it was risky because he almost popped a boner in class, but it was worth it if it was for you.

“- What do you want pretty ?

- Give me your hand.”

You could see that he was confused, but he did what you asked nevertheless, so you could place something in his palm, closing his fingers around what seemed to be a piece of fabric, which was a little damp.

“- You feel how wet you made me ? This is what you do to me Jake. Now, enjoy your next classes.”

He watched you go away, definitely hard this time when he realized you really gave him your panties, and that the material was, in fact, soaked in your juices. Behind you, you heard him swear loudly and rush to his class to not be late, a smirk spreading on your lips. It was his turn to suffer a little.

Jake didn’t even take the time to greet his roommate when he came home, tracing a beeline to his room and locking the door before he dropped his bag on the floor. He got out your panties that were stuffed in his pocket, the fabric still a little wet. You were the reason he didn’t pay attention to his last class of the day, not able to understand a single thing his professor was saying. He couldn’t stop thinking about how much he wanted to jerk off with them, couldn’t stop thinking of you going home with nothing underneath your skirt.

That was enough to make him hard all over again. Quickly, Jake got rid of his jeans and underwear, laying down on his bed with a hand already wrapped around his painfully hard dick. Without an ounce of shame, he lifted your panties to his nose, inhaling your scent and immediately moaning. He was already addicted to this, to you, to the way you were playing with him.

Jake could already feel his tip leaking pre-cum, and he knew that he was not going to last long, especially after you had edged him all day. It was as if he could still feel your hand on his thigh, too close to his crotch for his sanity. And every time you touched his arm to have his attention, it was like your fingers were leaving a trail of fire behind them, a shiver running down his spine every time your warmth left him.

The smell of your juices was driving him insane, sticking his tongue out to lick it off the material. He sped up his movements unconsciously, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, incapable of holding back his moans anymore. He didn’t care if Jay could hear him or not, he didn’t care if what he was doing was disgusting, if he was a creep for loving it all. You already tasted like heaven like this, and he knew that as soon as you’d let him go down on you for real, he would never want to pull out from your pussy ever again.

Once he could taste nothing but his own saliva that had completely drenched your panties, he wrapped it around his cock, the friction feeling so much better than his own hands, but not coming close to what yours would feel, he knew it. His mind couldn’t stop drifting away to a sick scenario in which you were watching him do all that, in which you were telling him how disgusting he was, in which he was begging for you to touch him. The thought was enough to push him over the edge, moaning your name loudly as he came all over this stomach and your panties.

“- Fuck…”

Without a second thought, he reached for his pants on the floor, getting his phone out to take a picture of the mess he had made. The material was still wrapped around his cock, making sure you had a great view of his abs covered in his cum and his tip still leaking. As soon as he hit “send”, Jake plopped down on the sheets again, closing his eyes for a while. He knew he had to get up, take a shower and do his homework, but the only thing plaguing his mind was you. Only you.

Of course, the teasing didn’t stop there, neither of you being able to stop. You had sexted each other during classes, not paying any attention to the actual lesson, too busy telling the other the dirtiest things. It felt even better when Jake did it during your science class, blowing up your phone with messages filled with praises of how gorgeous you looked today, of how your outfit was suiting you perfectly, of how much he wished he could fuck you on your desk right now, of how much he just wanted to get out of here and show you how good he could make you feel.

You had not given up on your skirts and dresses, which were getting shorter and tighter as time went on. And Jake had not given up on putting his hand on your thigh, which was getting closer and closer to your core everytime you were sitting side by side. The flirting comments he whispered in your ears got more and more unhinged, and the pictures you sent to him got more and more revealing. Jake had started to save them in a locked file, but always making sure to send something back so it was fair - and not at all because he loved the idea of you drooling over his body, or touching yourself while looking at his nudes.

And even if Jake loved the game, he couldn’t wait for the moment he would finally have you. Because he was so close to breaking down the act when you sent him an audio message of you moaning his name, going on and on about how much you wished he was with you right now, about how much you needed him. It was late at night, and Jake was ready to go to sleep, but he was quick to slip his hand in his underwear, jerking off to the sound of your whines and begs that he listened to on repeat from this moment on. And he was seeing so clearly the sinful image of you fingering yourself that hadn’t left his mind since this video call, the same image that was imprinted in his memories.

He was almost ready to go out at 1am and come to your apartment, but he was too tired and mostly, he wanted to win, even if it was pointless because he knew that you wanted him as much as he wanted you. So he settled on sending you a video just when he was coming, while telling you how bad he wished you could be riding him right now, how bad he wished he could fill you up with his cum. And you replied with a close up of your wet pussy that ended up in his locked file.

It was also very fun to talk casually in front of everyone else, as if Jake wasn’t fucking you with his eyes, as if you hadn’t sent him another filthy text last night where you were calling him your good boy. The sexual tension between you and Jake was so high that neither Yeji or Jay could even bear to look your way without being disgusted - their words, not yours. And the way you were both always smiling, giggling and blushing everytime the other sent you something had your two friends desesperate for you to finally fuck each other and stop flirting in front of them - again, their exact words. You knew Yeji was happy for you and just liked to tease, but you were just as eager as her to get laid.

But you will not be the one to give up. You wanted Jake to surrender before you did. Why ? Just because it was much more fun that way. Hence why you were standing so close to Jungwon. And Jake was clearly not having it, watching the two of you from his seat in the classroom, jaw clenched and gaze burning a hole in your friend’s back. The way you were touching his arm and laughing at his jokes shouldn’t have made him jealous. After all, you were not his, you were not his girlfriend, and he didn’t even kiss you yet. But still, it didn’t stop him from wanting to swat Jungwon away from you when he hugged you.

Your innocent smile as you sat next to him and asked him how his day went so far did not help. He could see right through you, could see that you did that on purpose. And this time, it worked. Jake didn’t want to admit it, he didn’t want this to stop, but he had to do it or he would go insane. While you were cautiously taking notes, he took his phone out, accustomed to texting you during class by now. During a little break, you looked at your phone and grinned seeing a new message from Jake, asking you to join him in the same corridor you gave him your panties a few weeks before. You had to bite your lips to not let a big smile invade your whole face, because you knew very well what it meant, your body tingling with excitement.

At this point, Jake had no self control anymore. All he wanted was you. All he needed was you. And he was not going to survive if he didn’t actually have you in the next few minutes. However, a small part of him was anxious, overwhelming him with the doubt that maybe, just maybe, you really only wanted the game, and not him. He should have heard your footsteps resonating in the empty hallway, but he was into his thoughts and only did acknowledge your presence when you came into his view, not letting him utter a word before you grabbed him by his jacket and kissed him. His brain stopped working, wide eyed and not moving until you let him go.

“- Are you okay ?”

Jake shook his head at you, before reaching to grab your waist, pushing you against the nearest wall, lips only inches away from yours.

“- No… You’ve been driving me crazy since the first day Y/N, I want you.

- Then take me.”

That was all he needed to lean in and kiss you again, harder, messier as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. You moaned against his lips, tugging him closer to you by his jacket and he took the hint, pushing his body impossibly close to yours. The way he was kissing you, as if he had an insatiable hunger for you, had you wet in seconds, and you could feel his boner pressing against your thigh, an obvious proof that you were just as desperate for this to happen.

Neither one of you was thinking about the fact that you were in a hallway, and that anyone could walk in on you, heavily making out. It didn’t matter to Jake, too lost in the taste of your lips and tongue against his to care about anything else. He finally had you all for himself, finally had you where he wanted, finally had a taste of you. And he already knew that he was going to get addicted, that he wouldn’t want anyone after you because it was like you were made for him. Eventually, you needed to breathe and had to detach yourself from his lips, Jake chasing yours and letting a quiet whine escape him when you started to grind your hips against his.

“- Fuck… Do you feel how bad I need you pretty ?”

You nodded, not trusting yourself with making sentences, not when he was holding your gaze and all you could see in his eyes was lust and desire. This look alone made you want to drop on your knees for him right now, and the way he started to pepper your neck with his kisses didn’t help either, taking a hold of his hair and moving faster against him.

“- I need you too Jake… Need you to use me…

- Don’t say that if you don’t want to get fucked for everyone to see.”

His voice had dropped lower, his hot breath fanning against the skin of your neck where you knew for sure he had already left some hickeys. And he didn’t feel guilty at all. He wanted everyone to know you were his, even if you technically weren’t. Jake knew that if he didn’t leave now, he would never have the strength to do so.

“- I have to go pretty…

- I know…”

You knew but you kissed him again anyway, hoping that the taste of his lips against yours would linger for as long as possible. When Jake finally had the courage to stop you, he was already ten minutes late for his next class and cock hard as a rock in his pants, but who cared if he got to have you all needy and desperate for him - as if he wasn’t just as needy and desperate for you.

“- Come over at mine tonight, okay ? I’ll kick Jay out, and I’ll be all yours pretty.

- Okay, text me later ?

- I will.”

Jake pressed one last kiss on your forehead before he started to run for his class, praying that it would be enough for him to calm down and stop thinking about all the things he was going to do to you.

Jake was probably more nervous right now than he had ever been in his entire life, and he had had many situations to be anxious about. However, the fact that you were going to come over in less than five minutes made his palms sweat and his heart beat faster. He didn’t really know why he was feeling so panicked, because you obviously showed him on numerous occasions how much you were yearning for him too, there was no way you would stand him. But if he did something wrong ? If it was not what you had expected and you decided that you didn’t want to see him again after that ?

This last idea in particular was running in his head. Because he didn’t want to have you just for one night, he didn’t want to fuck you and then let you walk away as if he wasn’t crazy over you, as if you didn’t make him feel shy everytime you smiled at him. But the more he was thinking about it, the more his heart ached at the scenario. So he stuck to trying to distract himself on his phone until you arrived.

He didn’t really do anything in particular, didn’t litter the whole place with rose petals and candles, but everything was cleaned perfectly and he even cooked so you had something to eat if you happened to be hungry. It was strange to be suddenly so anxious about meeting up with you. Because he was not nervous when he texted you all his fantasies about you, he was not nervous when he sent you pics and videos of his dick, he was not even nervous when he made out with you in this corridor later. But now, he could feel his hands shaking as he tried his best to open the door for you without looking like a complete idiot. But how was he supposed to stay calm and collected when you were standing at his door, wearing a little black dress that took his breath away.

“- Are you going to let me in or not ?”

Jake finally snapped out of his haze hearing your teasing tone, and he had to mentally restrain himself from letting his eyes wander all around your silhouette. And immediately, he forgot all about being anxious, grabbing you by your wrist and pulling you inside, closing the door and pushing you against it quickly. Your whole body felt on fire from his hands on your waist alone.

“- I’ve waited so long for this, pretty, wanted you since the first day.”

Your own hands came to play with his hair, bringing his face closer to yours, grinning as he tried to focus on your eyes and lips at the same time.

“- Yeah ? Wanna show me how much ?

- I’m going to make you feel so good, make you scream my name for all the neighbors to hear.”

You licked your lips, your gaze locking with each other. Slowly, Jake’s face got closer to yours, one of his hands leaving your waist to rest on your cheek, tilting your head up so he could kiss you. He wanted all this to be perfect, wanted to take his time with you, wanted to hold you close to him and satisfy every one of your needs. But as soon as he got another taste of you, he couldn’t stop himself from wanting more, all the teasing from these past months reaching its climax as he devoured you, his tongue passionately dancing with yours.

You couldn’t hide anymore the effect he had on you, the slightest brush of his thigh against yours having you sighing in his mouth. But you needed more, needed to feel more of him, more of his skin against yours. That was why you let your hands drop from his neck to the hem of his shirt, sliding your fingers underneath the material, finally able to touch the beautiful abs you could only see in pictures and videos.

Jake’s eyes landed on the hickeys he left earlier, smirking at the fact that your dress didn’t hide them at all. And he made it his mission to cover the other side of your neck as well, his kisses trailing from the corner of your mouth, along your jawline and finally landing on the sensitive skin that he immediately started licking and nipping at. He was used to hearing your little whimpers of pleasure, but it was even more addicting to hear them when he was the one provoking them, even better when he could feel your hands tugging on his hair, even better when he could grip your ass at the same time.

“- Jake… I need you…

- Mh ? But you have me pretty…”

You could feel his grin against the skin of your neck as he kept sucking on it, his hand slipping underneath your dress to feel your bare skin. He could be as cocky as he wanted, in the end he was getting even more hard just by kneading at the plush flesh of your thighs. And you knew that, and you wouldn’t let his arrogance be. One of your hands came up to grab his jaw, forcing him to look you in the eyes while the other slid down to his crotch, squeezing his hard on enough for Jake to let out a gasp of both surprise and pleasure.

“- Don’t get so confident baby, you know how good I am at edging you and you don’t want that now, do you ?

- No…”

His voice was barely above a whisper, lips parted, breathing heavily and eyes wide open. You were sometimes getting more assertive in your texts, but to really experience it was different. He loved when you were begging him, but if you wanted him to play in your fantasy and dominate him, you could bet that he would be the best sub ever.

“- Good boy. Take me to your room.”

That was all Jake needed to carry you through his apartment, managing to get to his bed while kissing you again, and again, and again. He laid you down on his sheets, unaware of how hot you thought he was for being able to do that so effortlessly. You wanted to get on top of him and worship him all night. But for now, you simply watched him discarding his shirt and sweatpants on the floor, biting your lips at the sight.

“- Come here.”

And he did it, caging you in with his arms before going back to kissing you while you let your hands roam around his body, touching up every inch of skin you could reach - his back, his arms, his abs, everything. You needed to have his skin against yours, to really feel him. His own fingers were sliding underneath your dress, caressing your thighs, your ass, your lower back. But all these clothes were getting annoying, he wanted to see you, have your whole body in display for his gaze only. He needed to see in person what you had shown him so many times in pictures and videos.

“- Can I take these off ?”

You simply nodded, a sigh of relief coming out of your mouth when Jake helped you get rid of everything you were wearing, starting from your jacket that you didn’t even have the time to discard because he immediately jumped on you. Then, he threw away your little boots and your socks, and finally your dress, revealing the black, laced lingerie set you had on. Another smirk played on your lips when you saw shock as well as lust play in his eyes.

“- You like it ?”

His hands were almost shaking as he put them back on your body, grazing the skin with his fingers slowly. If he liked it ? He could feel his cock twitching at the view alone. You were like a sinful goddess, and you were here for him only, sprawled out on his bed, waiting for him to make you feel good.

“- Fuck, yes, you’re so hot pretty… Can I touch you ?”

You smiled at him, finding his carefulness even more attractive. As an answer, you took his hands in your own, guiding them to your breast, letting him massage it over your bra as he looked at you like you casted a spell on him. And truth be told, you might have done just that because he soon found himself unable to keep his hands for himself. In the span of a few seconds, Jake had pushed your boobs out of the coffin of your bra, his lips coming down to play with one of your nipples while his fingers were giving attention to the other.

Your hands quickly came back down to grab his hair, whines leaving your mouth every time his own closed around your nipple. Your mind was already clouded with pleasure and desire, having waited for too long for exactly that to happen, and you didn’t have any patience left : you wanted his cock, and you wanted it now. In one swift movement - and because Jake didn’t expect you to do that - you managed to get him on his back where you were laying seconds before, straddling his lap. Immediately, he found your waist again, his big hands tugging you closer to his cock, where he needed you.

“- If you wanted to be on top, you could’ve just said that, princess.”

You wanted to kiss that stupid, proud grin out of his face, but instead you decided to strip him from his underwear, finally getting to see his cock for real. And it was even more pretty, even more bigger, even more perfect for you.

“- I just need your cock, I don’t care how, I just need it.”

How eager you were to touch him too had Jake groaning and releasing a moan as soon as you started to stroke his cock. He loved the fact that you simply took what you wanted from him, and he was ready to let you use him in any way you wished if that made you happy. However, all the times he imagined how your hand would feel around his dick couldn’t compare to how it really was, to how good it really was.

“- Do whatever you want to me.”

You didn’t need to be told twice to lower your head and be at the same level as his cock, sticking out your tongue immediately and coming to lick his flushed tip. The sight was unholy, tempting him to push the rest of his shaft in between your lips right now. Jake couldn’t even recall all the times he closed his eyes and thought about your mouth closing around his dick instead of his hands. And now you were really there, spitting on it and spreading your saliva before taking him in your mouth.

He couldn’t help but throw his head back, his hands coming down to take a hold of your hair, following the movement of your head. The feeling of having you suck his dick couldn’t compare to anything he had fantasized about before. And if you weren’t so busy trying to fit his big cock in your throat, you would have teased him because he looked so fucked out already and you hadn’t done anything yet. Little by little, you managed to fit all of him down your throat, and the moan he let out at you hollowing your cheeks, making you even more wet if possible.

“- Fuck ! Your mouth feels so warm, so good…”

Even when you started to bob your head up and down, he didn’t look down at your face, but you wanted his full attention, wanted to see him lose all his composure. Your hands were resting against his thighs, and you started to graze his skin with your nails, effectively getting him to open his eyes and focus on you again. Another moan left his lips just from seeing you like this.

“- Please, don’t stop…”

And you didn’t, feeling his grip on your hair tightening as you took him all the way down once more. If Jake wasn’t trying to not lose his mind over how well you were taking him, he would have loved to wipe the smug expression out of your face. But for now, all he could do was moan and whine and look at you through hooded eyes, loving how much of a mess you were, with a mix of saliva and pre-cum dribbling from the corner of your lips. He couldn’t resist anymore the urge to thrust his cock up in your mouth, closing his eyes again at the feeling of your tight throat around him.

“- Wanna cum in your mouth so bad pretty, can I ? Please, please, let me…”

You hummed in agreement, far too fucked out yourself to do anything else than taking what he was giving to you. At this point, he was simply using you for his own pleasure but you just let him because you loved it, loved how he claimed you by ruining your throat.

“- Shit Y/N ! Gonna fill you up, yeah ?”

A moan escaped you, the vibration sending Jake over the edge, his hips halting their movement, buried deep inside of your warm mouth and spilling his load right there, your eyes watering as you tried to swallow it all. Jake felt on cloud nine, and he knew that he would not need anyone else for the rest of his life because you were definitely made for him, perfect for him. You got one second to breathe when Jake pulled on your hair, taking you away from his cock and bringing you up to his lips, kissing you deeply and tasting himself on your tongue, loving the nasty mix of both your saliva and his cum. When he finally let you go, you couldn’t help but zeroing again on his red, swollen lips that he was biting while looking intently at you.

“- You did so well for me, pretty, such a good girl.”

His forehead was pressed against yours, cupping your face, thumbs whipping away the tears who had rolled down your cheeks. You felt even more turned on by how thoughtful he was, by his praises, by his sweet gestures despite being so rough with you.

“- Need you Jake…

- Want me to return the favor ?

- Yes, please…”

You felt so desperate for any kind of touch, your body tingling with anticipation as Jake switched position and laid you down on the bed again. He’ll get you to sit on his face another time, when his mind will be clear enough, when he’ll have the patience and self control to make you cum at least two times. He quickly got rid of your bra, even if you looked heavenly in them. But the sight of your naked body was even more appealing. Soon, his hands were all over you again, roaming around your skin and making you shiver. His lips found purchase on your neck again, littering it with more of his kisses and marks.

“- Don’t tease, please, I want you so bad…”

A single swear escaped Jake’s lips as he helped you out of your panties, bringing them to his nose and making a show out of sniffing them and groaning at the intoxicating scent, allowing you to picture how he looked when he had jerked off with your ruined underwear. Then, he threw them away somewhere in his room, not caring where it landed and grabbing you by your thighs to bring you close to his face, holding them wide open for him. The view of your bare and wet pussy had him getting hard all over again.

“- Such a pretty cunt baby, bet you taste just as sweet.”

His praises had you shying away from his dark gaze, but you were not able to hold back your little whimpers. Jake chuckled lightly before diving straight into your wet folds, having had enough of teasing you when he was just as desperate to taste you as you were to feel him. The second he licked up your wetness, it was over for him. He could be as cocky as he wanted but not when he felt his cock throbbing only at the taste of your pussy, not when you were invading all his senses as he buried his face between your plush thighs, sucking harshly on your clit.

Every moan that came out of your lips only spurred him on to continue, to go harder. When he felt you squirming around, he made sure to grip your thighs and keep them in place for him to have better access to your cunt. The way his skillful tongue was taking turns between playing with your clit, licking up your folds and going inside had you losing your mind already, both hands coming down to tug on his hair as if you wanted to keep him there forever.

“- Fuck ! Jake…”

He opened his eyes again at hearing your cries of his name, diving in your lustful gaze. Your parted lips allowed you to whine out everytime his mouth was on you, your cheeks were dusted pink because of the unbearable heat of your body and your hair was a tangled mess, thanks to Jake’s hands earlier. But to him, you never looked better, an heavenly sight for only him to witness.

“- Feels good pretty ?”

You nodded along, a quiet whimper echoing through the room at the loss of contact with his wet muscle.

“- Yes ! Yes, so good…”

Jake knew that, but to hear you say it had a smirk playing on his lips, and you couldn’t even be mad about it because he was looking insanely hot doing it. You could feel the pad of his fingers creeping up the skin between your knees and hips, so slowly it made shivers come alive on your whole body. And when he was almost touching your wet folds, he started all over again with your other leg, this time going as far as debuting at your ankle, and coming up even more lazily.

“- Please…

- Please what, pretty ?

- You know what I’m talking about !”

Your pouting face was too cute for Jake to not want to tease you more. He loved it when you made him go crazy, loved when you were getting him hard in the most inappropriate situations because you sent him a picture of your boobs. But it was also enjoyable to have you in the palm of his hand, dying for him to touch you. He rested his hands on the insides of your thighs, so close to where you needed him and yet so far away.

“- Hum, I don’t think so baby, you need to use your words if you want something.”

The grin on his face got even wider when he witnessed the way your hole clenched around nothing at his demanding tone, at his deep, low voice. He suspected that you had a thing for it since you were always biting your lips when he facetimed you early in the morning or late at night with his hoarse voice.

“- Come on, don’t get shy on me now, you told me a lot more worse before.”

You did. You definitely did with all the filthy texts you exchanged, and all the photos, videos and audios you sent, and your panties which were still sitting in one of his drawers like the ultimate proof of how naughty you were.

“- Want your fingers…

- Here we go. That wasn't so difficult, princess, was it ?”

You shook your head no as Jake dived back into your cunt, his lips finding their spot back on your clit, while his hand finally reached your wet folds. His touch was as light as a feather, but still enough to tear a noise out of you, still enough to make you crave more. All it took was a slight tug on the strands of hair you were still gripping and suddenly, you could feel one of his fingers entering you slowly, so as to not hurt you.

“- Good ?”

You nodded energetically, releasing a sigh of relief to have something filling your empty pussy, and you didn’t even need to tell Jake for him to understand that you wanted more, inserting another finger while still playing with your clit with his tongue. And when he started to pump his fingers in and out, you knew that you wouldn’t last long, especially not when he seemed to have figured out exactly how to make you lose your mind. You couldn't stop the noises from coming out of your mouth anymore, pushing Jake's head even closer to your core if that was even possible, grinding on his face as pleasure coursed through your veins and the knot in your stomach snapped.

Your breath was knocked out of your lungs, and you almost didn't feel his gentle kisses on your inner thighs to help you come down off your high. What you did feel though was him pulling out his fingers and bringing them to your lips. He smiled sweetly at your obedience, watching you through his lashes as you opened your mouth and let him bury them inside, even moaning around his fingers just like you did around his dick.

“- So good for me, fuck, you're so pretty…”

He wanted to lick off your lips the string of saliva connecting them to his fingers, wanted to make out with you and your pussy for the rest of his life. Silence came back in his room, only broken by your heavy breathings, looking into each other's eyes as if you could read your minds.

“- You’re gonna fuck me or not ?”

Your teasing smirk and the challenging tone of your voice brought a grin on his face, which widened at the strangled moan you let out when he grabbed your hips and forced you to turn around, getting you on your knees, ass up and pushing your head down his pillow. He was doing with his hands everything he did with his words : ordering you around, telling you how to place the camera so he had the best view of your dripping cunt, not letting you cum before he did. Without letting you have any more time to think, Jake was pushing the tip of his cock between your folds, sliding right in with how wet you were. You couldn’t see him from your position, but you could hear his deep groan as you clenched around him.

“- All you need is a little bit of dick to shut your big mouth uh ?”

You wanted to protest, to say no, to answer something that would have made him shut up, but all that came out of your lips was a cry of his name as he thrusted all the way in. If he wasn’t holding your hips up, you would’ve collapsed, overwhelmed by the rush of pleasure in your body at feeling so full suddenly.

“- Yeah, that’s it, just a slut who needs to be fucked.”

As much as Jake wanted to sound composed, his voice was shaking, and the moan that left him just after was really far from composed. The feeling of your tight, warm, velvety walls had him wondering why he waited so long before fucking you because it had to be what heaven felt like. Slowly, he pulled his cock out, only to thrust back inside roughly, the sound of your whimpers mingling with his deep groans.

“- Fuck ! You’re perfect for my cock, pretty little pussy.”

At this point, you could only whine in his pillow, mumbling on and on about how good he felt, about how you had wanted this for so long. And Jake wanted to be cocky about it, wanted to tease you for being so desperate for his cock, but he wasn’t doing any better, barely resisting the urge of painting your walls white on the spot. You had told him so many times over text and even during your calls how much you wanted him to fuck you raw, how much you needed him to fill you up to the brim, it was the only thing he could think about right now.

“- You want me to fill you up with my cum ? Is that what you want ?”

You moaned in response, your brain too mushy to think about anything else than the way the tip of his cock was hitting your sweet spot over and over. But that didn’t seem to satisfy him as he pulled on your hair, yanking your head back. Another noise fell out of your lips at his rough actions and you could feel the smirk on his lips when they brushed against your ear while he was talking.

“- Words pretty.

- Yes, fuck ! I want your cum Jake, want it all, please !”

- Such a good little slut, shit !”

You felt your eyes watering again with the increasing speed of Jake’s thrusts, the rush of pleasure through your body too good to resist anymore. Your orgasm washed over you before you could even register it, leaving you a moaning and incoherent mess in his hold. The feeling of your cunt getting even more tight was enough for Jake to cum too, spilling his load inside of you with a throaty groan.

You were tired, but still, the tingling sensation in your core was there. You wanted more of his cock, more of his moans, more of his hands on you, more of him. A quiet whine fell from your lips when Jake started kissing your back up and down, his hands caressing your hips to soothe the skin he had marked. And you knew all of this was supposed to be sweet and caring, but all it did was turn you on even more, your cunt squeezing his cock that was still buried inside. You felt some of his cum spilling out and sliding down your thighs, followed closely by a swear from Jake.

“- You’re getting me hard again pretty…”

You turned your head to look at him, cheeks flushed and eyes glossy, lips swollen and red from his kisses, and hair a mess because of his hands. And Jake could swear it was the most divine you’ve ever looked - when he had just ruined you.

“- Let me ride you then.

- Fuck, yes.”

You chuckled at his eagerness when he pulled out from your leaking cunt, trying not to drool at the sight as he plopped down on his bed, grabbing your thighs and bringing you on his lap. But you couldn’t really make fun of him when you had dreamt about this for just as long. You traced along the marks that already started to blossom on his skin, grinning proudly at your work and loving how sensitive Jake was, taking a deep breath as you took his cock in your hand, brushing the tip against your entrance.

“- Y/N… Please…”

The way the word came so easily to him paired with his whine of your name convinced you to not make him wait any longer and to sink on his dick instead, both of you moaning at the feeling. It felt so much deeper this way, and you knew only from the photos that he was big, but you were only acknowledging just how much now.

“- Feels so good Jake, love your big cock…”

He desperately wanted to answer something, wanted to tell you how delicious you were, but you took his breath away when you started rocking your hips back and forth. And suddenly, the only thing he was able to think about was you. His hands were on your waist, but he didn’t have enough consciousness left to even help you bounce up and down, simply staring at you, mesmerized.

A flood of dirty words was coming out of your mouth, praising him and his dick, telling him how good he felt, how handsome he was. And Jake loved the attention, loved to feel your hands dangerously close to his neck, close enough for him to want your fingers wrapped around his throat, close enough for you to purposely restrict his breathing a little without really choking him. Only the squelching of your mixed juices and the ones of your cries of pleasure could be heard in the room, both of you too fucked out to care about anything else than your release.

“- Can I cum inside again, pretty, please ? Please, let me…

- Yes, want it so bad !”

Jake closed his eyes as he felt his orgasm approaching, lifting his hips to meet your thrusts. He was only able to do it a few times before his cock twitched, cumming deep inside. He kept you down on his lap until he felt on the verge of passing out. The erotic moans and whimpers he let out triggered your own climax, and everything was even more intense because of the slight overstimulation. You grinned your hips against him a few more times before your arms and legs gave out and you collapsed on top of him, his arms immediately wrapping around your sweaty body.

You closed your eyes for a moment, and you were almost ready to fall asleep when Jake moved you off of him and stood up. You whined and grabbed him by his wrist, trying to pull him back to the bed with you.

“- I’m just going to take something to clean us up pretty, I’ll be quick, promise.”

Jake smiled fondly at your pouty lips before kissing them and running to the bathroom to find a towel. He rapidly cleaned your skin, delicately whipping it down and handed you one of his shirts to cover up when he saw you shiver. He discarded the towel on the floor, not having the energy to do anything else than going to sleep with you in his arms right now. He slipped under the covers after having put on some shorts.

You directly snuggled up to him, hiding your face in his neck and breathing his scent in. And Jake couldn’t help the big smile stretching out his lips when he tightened his hold around your waist and distinctly heard you hum against his skin.

“- Y/N ?”

You lifted your head when he broke the comfortable silence that had settled between the two of you, taking in his soft smile, his shiny eyes and his disheveled hairs. Maybe he had looked more put together before, but to you, he was the most beautiful like this.

“- Will you be my girlfriend ?”

And you couldn’t help but reciprocate his smile and shake your head. Sometimes, he was very silly. Sometimes, he could be considered childish. But he was able to bring back sunshine when your days were filled with gray clouds, and he could make you laugh anytime you felt down. Your hands came up to cup his face, delicately brushing your thumbs against his cheekbones.

“- You know, you’re very charming Jake Sim, it’s hard to resist you.”

This time, it was him who hid in your neck, holding you even tighter if it was possible. And you giggled heartedly, a sound that Jake would never get sick of hearing. And maybe he had lost your game, but he had won something even more precious.

BONUS :

You picked up your phone when getting out of the store, holding a little plastic bag with everything you needed to cook a delicious breakfast for you and Jake. Speaking of whom, you had a bunch of messages from him, asking where you were, and if you had ran away. Texts saying how sorry he was if he was too pushy last night, that he would let you as much time as you wanted if it was what you needed. And endless apologies, over and over. You only answered with a quick message letting him know that you would be back quickly.

Meanwhile, Jake was really panicking. When he woke up and felt the space beside him empty and that your clothes weren’t littering the floor of his bedroom anymore, all remnants of sleepiness left his body, immediately looking around the apartment to see if you were anywhere. It was stupid, he knew it, if you had left, it was certainly for a good reason, but he couldn’t help asking himself if maybe you had come to the conclusion that you didn’t want to be with him. He sat down on one of the kitchen stools, biting his nails while waiting for you to say something else but you didn’t, and stress took over him again.

When you pushed the door open, you were only met with Jake's worried look waiting for you in the kitchen. He was only wearing the same pair of gray sweatpants as last night and you couldn’t stop your mind from going back to how good it all felt, but the object of your fantasies stopped your thoughts from going too far.

“- Where were you !?

- I was at the store down the street, to buy us breakfast.”

You lifted your bag and dropped it on the kitchen counter before making your way over to Jake until you could run your fingers through his hair. The hands of the boy came up to rest on your waist, only noticing now that you were wearing his clothes, his heart beating faster at the view.

“- Didn’t you see my note ?”

You looked around and saw that it was still where you had left it, immediately showing it to Jake who was getting more and more embarrassed for getting so worked up over something so stupid.

“- I’m sorry, I just thought that maybe you didn’t mean what you said last night and that you realized that this morning and decided to leave…”

Jake hesitantly looked up at your face to find you smiling fondly at him. You leaned down to place a kiss on his lips, and another one, and another one, until you had peppered his whole face with kisses and made him giggle shyly.

“- You’re an idiot if you think you’re going to get away from me so easily, I’m not letting you go.

- Good, because I don’t want you to.”

-> i don't allow any copies, translations or reposts of my post.

-> moon dividers by @samspenandsword

enha masterlist (fill in this to be added) :

@bbgnyx @hann1bee @iraisswiftie

#enhypen #enhypen fics #enhypen x reader #enhypen smut #enha #enha fics #enha x reader #enha smut #jake sim #jake smut #jake sim x reader #jake x reader #college au #eli: lost the game

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ellecdc · 2 months ago

Note

Hey! Congrats on 5k elle!! <3

Can I ask a baby it's cold outside with the prompt "did you really put a blanket over me while i was sleeping." with Regulus? Maybe he fell asleep talking with Reader and she put the blanket so he isn't cold?

— 🎵

thank you love! also, for some reason this became an academic rivals fic, but it felt right for our Reggie! hahaha thanks for the prompt <3

Regulus Black x fem!reader who did not stupefy him [539 words]

CW: could be considered gn!reader - the only gendered marker for reader is the term 'witch', rivals, haters to....?, open ended, banter and fluff

Regulus woke with a start, which wasn’t unusual.

What was unusual was that he woke up in the library, or, rather, that he fell asleep in the library. Perhaps even more unusual was the throw blanket carefully draped over his shoulders.

“Merlin, you’re wound tight; who wakes up like that?” Your voice sounded from somewhere to his right; Regulus was sitting up board straight already, and he had no time to be concerned with whether or not he had crease lines criss crossing on the side of his face that had been resting on his jumper clad arm, nor whether his curls had taken on a mind of their own when he turned his attention to you.

“What did you do?” Regulus hissed. Your eyebrows furrowed near comically where they were pointed down at your textbook before your curious eyes moved up to consider him.

“Are you quite alright, Black?”

“You…you stupefied me or something. I’m sure of it.” He insisted as primly as he could muster, only having to pause once to clear the sound of sleep from his voice.

“I did not stupefy you, you git.” You hissed right back.

He realised then that it was a little peculiar; the two of you had the entire library to yourselves, seeing as most students went home for the the holidays, and those who remained at the school over the holidays didn’t exactly spend their time haunting the library of all places, yet the two of you were somehow sitting at the same group of tables.

Peculiar, still, because the two of you didn’t much care for each other.

It’s not that Regulus particularly disliked you or what not, but rather that you were an annoying pain in his arse and constantly trying to best him in your shared classes.

He had hoped to get a chance to get ahead of his course work over the break - put a little space between the two of you in terms of grades - but it appeared that you had shared the same idea.

Meddlesome witch.

“Then you must have put a sleeping potion in my tea.” He deduced as he vanished what remained in his cup with a flippant flick of his wrist. You rolled your eyes.

“You’re impossible. Why would I have done that?”

“You’re trying to best me in classes.”

You let out a rather inelegant snort as the corner of your lips turned upwards into a smirk. “I don’t have to try to best you, Black, I am the best.”

Regulus let out a derisive laugh. “Right, so, what? You just put a blanket over my shoulders out of the kindness of your heart?”

If Regulus wasn’t mistaken, he thought perhaps he noticed a look of bashfulness cross your features as you started to pack up your things.

“You were shaking like a jar of billywigs, Black; it was impossible to get any work done with the thunk, thunk, thunking of your chair legs. Besides, it’s not like I was going to waste my magic casting a warming charm over you.”

And, if Regulus wasn’t mistaken, he thought he felt the telltale tingling of a warming charm fading as the door to the library closed behind you.

How peculiar.

#elle's cold #marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #regulus black #regulus black x reader #regulus black x you #marauders fandom #regulus black fluff #regulus black fic #regulus black ficlet #regulus black blurb #regulus black drabble #regulus black imagine #academic rivals #ellecdc fics

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daisymbin · 19 days ago

Note

Ok so this might be very suggestive but imagine getting on the bus with hansol after a casual coffee date and the bus is crowded so you're standing in the standing area and he's standing facing u, kinda Like shielding u frm the crowd or smth & u r sharing earpods (🎵: double take ~ dhruv) & he's staring out of the window & you're staring at him and you randomly say 15. "you’re my favorite person, you know that?" Cuz u just realise u might still hv a crush on ur long term boyfriend

(This is my 5th ask pls bear with me i just love u too much)

Also I can get this look of his out of my mind

!!!! thank you for coming back!!!! i chose another song as requested!!! 🥲🤍

full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // hansol's m.list

the bus was packed, the kind of crowded where personal space became a luxury, and you found yourself standing shoulder to shoulder with strangers. it wasn’t unusual, but today it felt different. maybe it was the warmth of the coffee date still lingering between you and hansol, or maybe it was the way he looked so effortlessly himself, casual and calm, as if the chaos of the world couldn’t touch him.

he stood beside you, one hand gripping the railing above while the other tugged at his earphones. he handed you one without a word, the gesture so familiar it made your heart ache in the best way.

“thanks,” you mumbled, slipping the earbud in.

“you don’t even know what song it is yet,” he teased, his lips twitching into a small smile.

“doesn’t matter. your playlists are always good.”

the faint intro of be your everything by boys like girls filled your ears. you bit back a smile at the song choice, wondering if he’d put it on for you or if it was just a coincidence. hansol didn’t say anything else, just turned to look out the window, his profile bathed in the soft, golden light of late afternoon.

you shifted slightly as the bus jolted forward, trying to steady yourself against the sway of the vehicle. the standing area was cramped, people pressed too close for comfort. and then it happened—a sharp stop at a red light sent someone stumbling into you, their shoulder colliding with yours.

you stumbled forward, a soft gasp escaping your lips as you tried to regain your balance. hansol’s arm shot out instinctively, his hand catching your elbow and steadying you before you could fall.

“you okay?” he asked, his voice low, filled with concern.

“yeah,” you breathed, your heart pounding for reasons that had nothing to do with the near fall.

he frowned slightly, his hand lingering on your arm for a moment longer before he shifted, stepping in front of you. “here, stand like this,” he said, positioning himself between you and the crowd. his arm stretched out to hold the railing above your head, shielding you from the jostling around you.

you blinked up at him, surprised by the sudden closeness. “hansol, you don’t have to—”

“just in case,” he interrupted, his gaze flickering to yours briefly before returning to the window. “i don’t want you getting bumped into again.”

the way he said it, so matter-of-fact and protective, made your chest tighten.

the song played on, and you found yourself more focused on him than the music. his eyes were distant, watching the buildings pass by, his expression soft and almost thoughtful. you’d known him for so long, but moments like this still caught you off guard—the quiet way he cared, the little things he did without needing to be asked.

as the chorus swelled, you caught a lyric that made your breath hitch: “i’ll be your shelter, i’ll be your storm. i’ll make you shiver, i’ll keep you warm.”

something about those words hit you differently. they reminded you of everything hansol had been to you, everything he still was. he wasn’t just your boyfriend—he was your safe place, your calm in the chaos. and in that moment, staring at him as the music played on, you realized something.

you still had a crush on him. after all this time, after all the little moments and big ones, after he’d already become yours, the feeling hadn’t faded. it had only grown, deeper and stronger, filling every corner of your heart.

the words were out before you could think. “you’re my favorite person, you know that?”

hansol froze, his eyes flicking to yours, wide and disbelieving. “what?”

you felt the heat rise to your cheeks, but there was no taking it back now. “i said you’re my favorite person.”

his lips parted slightly, and for a moment, he just stared at you. then, slowly, a shy smile spread across his face, the kind that made your heart do flips. “me?”

you rolled your eyes, trying to play it off despite the fluttering in your chest. “obviously.”

he blinked a few times, his cheeks flushing a soft pink as he turned back to the window, suddenly unable to meet your gaze. “oh.”

you laughed softly at his reaction. “that’s all you have to say? ‘oh’?”

he rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. “you caught me off guard. i don’t really know what to say.”

“you don’t have to say anything,” you said, your voice quieter now, more sincere. “i just… wanted you to know.”

hansol finally looked at you, his eyes warm and filled with something you couldn’t quite name. “well, for the record,” he said softly, “you’re my favorite person too.”

the bus jolted again, but this time, you barely noticed. your hand brushed against his where it rested on the railing, and instead of pulling away, he let his pinky hook around yours, the small gesture sending a wave of warmth through you.

and as hansol glanced at you again, his lips twitching into a smile that was just for you, you knew one thing for sure—you’d never stop having a crush on him. not now, not ever.

the song faded into the next, but neither of you moved to change it. the bus ride continued, but the world outside felt like it had fallen away, leaving just the two of you in this small, crowded space.

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zepskies · 4 months ago

Text

Lost on You - Part 7

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader

Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.

AN: Consequences of the game.

Word Count: 5.2K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! More smut, show level debauchery, implied threesome, drug use, some light, some dark, violence and angst. (We're diving into some canon S3 content.)

🎵 YouTube Playlist || Spotify Playlist

🎙️ Series Masterlist

Part 7: Welcome to the Jungle

“Yes, well, Countess and I decided to end our relationship shortly after we wrapped on Red Thunder,” Ben explained to Jason Carver.

A little damage control could go a long way, coming from Soldier Boy himself. Vought News was one of the most convenient outlets for it.

“I know there’s been a lot of talk, but it was a mutual decision,” Ben said. “We still have a lot of love for each other. It just wasn’t working out.”

“Well, it sounds like it ended on good terms then,” said Jason.

“Yeah, so anyone who wants to run their mouth about it can come straight to me,” Ben said, with a stern set to his brows as he looked into the camera.

Jason uttered a slightly nervous laugh. “Well, I don’t think there’s anyone that brave.”

Ben shot him a smile. “Let’s hope not.”

“But are the rumors true? There seem to be some sparks between you and Sirena.”

Ben relaxed his posture a little, all while calm and controlled in his seat.

“She’s a special woman,” he admitted, with an incline of his head. “I can’t deny, we have…a connection.”

“Wow. You two have really hit it off since she joined the team,” Jason observed.

“Well, you know how it is, Jason,” Ben said. He glanced over and found you in the dark, standing next to a PA. You smiled.

“I’ve always been a man who knows what he wants,” he said.

“Shit,” Ben gritted out, his eyes rolling shut.

His gloved hand was fisted in your hair as you showed your gratefulness—on your knees, sucking him off from base to tip. He had to brace himself against the wall of one the makeup trailer. You two hadn’t even left the studio of Vought News when you took his hand and led him in here with a sensuous smile and an unspoken promise.

“You sure do have a talented fucking mouth,” he said with a smirk.

You hummed around his cock in response while your lips and tongue continued to work him over. The sensation nearly made his eyes cross. His blunt fingers bit into the wall, creating divots there and stirring up paint and plaster dust.

But if he could still talk, you weren’t satisfied. You squeezed his ass through his uniform pants, pulling him even closer. His hips rocked forward, forcing you to take him deeper until his cock hit the back of your throat.

You gagged for a moment, but you took a breath through your nose to steady yourself, blinking through the sting of involuntary tears in your eyes. Then you slid your lips back down him again. This time you relaxed the back of your throat and managed to take him fully without gagging as much.

His grip was getting tighter in your hair as muttered curses fell from his lips. You winced, but you kept going. You could feel him getting close; his thighs locked with strain, and his cock throbbed a warning in your mouth.

A cross between a grunt and a shout escaped him along with his release. You swallowed up as much of his spend as you could, but it still dribbled from the corners of your mouth and down your neck. You eventually released him with a soft pop, panting heavily.

He had to catch his breath as well while he leaned against the wall. His fingers untightened from your hair, petting your head instead.

“Good girl. Jesus,” he said shallowly.

You smiled and helped yourself off the floor. You grabbed a hand towel from one of the makeup artist stations and wiped your face and neck, ruined lipstick and all. Ben was trying to play off his recovery when you turned back to him.

His gaze on you was satisfied, and yet, still simmering with heat. He grabbed your arm and guided you against the wall. He caged you there with his hands molded to the curve of your waist. His touch was warm even through your leather suit.

“Countess may have some fireballs for me in my future,” you remarked.

Ben snorted dismissively. “Don’t worry about her.”

You weren’t so sure. She probably hadn’t done anything publicly to you yet because she was afraid of Ben. At this point, having him in your corner was protection—both for your career and for yourself.

You tipped your face up at him with a more playful smile.

“You really think I’m special?” you teased.

Ben chuckled through his nose. “You’re fucking something, all right.”

His tone was laced with amusement, but you saw the edge of it in his eyes, and you felt it with your abilities. You sensed the sincerity in him, tinged with…fondness, maybe? Even for you, it was hard to parse out.

It was definitely something beyond lust. Was he even capable of something more?

And is that what you want?

He gave you one last kiss, distracting you from that troubling thought. His lips moved slowly against yours for a change. It was affectionate, as he cupped your cheek.

“Come see me tonight,” he said when he finally pulled away. He gave you a slap on the ass to punctuate his request. Your hand wrapped around his forearm before he could turn away.

“How about a change of scenery? You could come to my place,” you suggested. He didn’t look enthused.

“Come on, I’ll even cook for you,” you added.

Ben raised a brow. “You cook?”

“Well, I’m no Martha Stewart, but I can whip up something good.”

Your smile was a tease as you slipped by him. You stopped in front of the mirror to fix your hair and lipstick. You briefly met Ben’s gaze in the mirror’s reflection. His brow was quirked. Was he waiting for you or something?

“What? I can’t go out looking like this,” you said.

At that, Ben smirked. He came up behind you and grasped your hips where you were bent over slightly. He pressed into your ass from behind, prompting you to straighten up and lean back against his chest. You couldn’t help a smile of amusement. Did this man ever get tired of fucking?

To your surprise though, he just pressed a tantalizing kiss into your neck. His eyes once again met yours in the mirror.

“I think you’re a fucking sight,” he said, picking a bit of his spend out of your hair.

You bit your lip out of embarrassment, but you couldn’t help the snort of laughter that escaped you.

It made him smile.

It was another facet of your evolving plan. Now that you had Ben in hand, you needed to keep his attention. A man like him appreciated certain values, and you had a feeling a woman who could cook was one of them.

It took some trial and error and a lot of praying, but you managed to make a decent roasted chicken. Ben seemed impressed enough. He ate half of the entire bird by himself, along with two helpings of mashed potatoes with gravy, even the parmesan broccoli. But as always, you two couldn’t seem to get through dessert.

Or rather, he took the cheesecake you bought into your bed and licked the accompanying raspberry syrup off your body. By the end, you were a sticky, sated mess (as usual). The bedsheets were a disaster, but you knew what you’d been getting into when you invited this man over. You had an extra set of clean sheets waiting in your dresser.

Ben smoked a large blunt afterwards, his eyes half-lidded as he drifted towards dozing off. When you noticed his eyes closing, a small alarm went off in your mind. You leaned over and stroked his arm.

“My bed doesn’t really compare with yours, does it?” you said. Which was true. His was even more plush and soft than yours. Not to mention, his bed was a California King. Yours was a modest queen-sized.

He shrugged and blew out smoke. “‘S not so bad.”

He dabbed his blunt in the ashtray and put it out for now. He raised his arms and folded them behind his head. He groaned and settled in against your pillows. You hid your wary frown.

Shit, maybe you’d miscalculated by inviting him over. You hadn’t thought he’d actually want to stay the night.

“Nooo, don’t fall asleep,” you playfully whined. You rolled over onto his chest and laid kisses along his jaw. “Why don’t we go take a walk or something? Go on a little adventure.”

Ben cracked an eye open at you, but he soon closed it again. “Nah, I’m good.”

“Come on, super-man. Don’t tell me you’re tired already,” you goaded.

At that, Ben’s eyes opened, and he frowned at you.

“You just stuffed me full of food like it’s Thanksgiving—”

“You’re the one who went for seconds. And thirds, mind you.”

“Gave me a fucking workout—”

“Which you started.”

“I may be the strongest man on Earth, but I still need to recharge every now and then,” he said gruffly. “Keep sassing me though. When I wake up, you might just find yourself bent over my knee.”

You tried not to smile. Sometimes his grumpiness was just too amusing. It didn’t seem like he was going to get out of your bed though.

Sighing in defeat, you got up and tugged at the ruined sheets he was resting on.

“Come on, at least let me change these.”

With an annoyed huff, Ben got up just long enough for you to remake the bed. He hunkered back down before you were done, making it harder for you to lay down the last one correctly, but you rolled your eyes and gave up, tossing the sheet half-made over his bare legs.

You went into the bathroom to clean yourself up. Hopefully by the time you came back, he’d be asleep. You’d make your way to the couch with a spare comforter and sleep there.

It might’ve seemed strange, but you had never actually slept with him in the same bed. It wasn’t personal. You’d made it a habit to always sleep alone.

So after a quick shower, brushing your teeth, and slipping on an old shirt to sleep in, you padded quietly back into your bedroom. Sure enough, Ben looked to be fast asleep. He laid on his back with an arm curled over his stomach. Like this, he looked peaceful. Even docile.

The thought made you smirk as you went to grab a spare blanket from your closet. You draped it over your arm and went to your nightstand next. You just wanted to grab the book you’d been reading from the top drawer. You did so very carefully, knowing Ben’s hearing was sharp.

Once you’d successfully retrieved the book and slowly shut the drawer, you turned to head for the door. A hand shot out and grabbed your elbow. You gasped and jolted slightly, but of course it was just Ben. His fingers wrapped around your arm. His eyes were open, barely.

“Where’re you going?” he rumbled.

“Um, just to go to the couch and read for a bit,” you lied on the fly. “I didn’t want to disturb you.”

With a dismissive huff, he tugged you back and hauled you effortlessly back into the bed. You yelped in surprise. The book went tumbling off the side of the bed while the extra blanket got coiled between your legs. That strong arm curled around your waist. Possessive.

You turned your head across Ben’s shoulder and stared at his face. He shot you a smirk, then closed his eyes. His chest moved with his deeper breath, as it evened out in sleep.

You frowned. The man could be demanding, sure, but you never expected him to act this way. It did cause a flutter of something to rise in your belly. Something warm, and equally unexpected.

You sighed and allowed yourself to relax against him. You rested your eyes. Just for a little while, you told yourself. Then you’d try to extricate yourself.

Somehow, you never got around to it.

You woke in the morning to something warm and firm under your cheek. Your eyes slid open, and you were met with the bare chest of your lover. He was awake, sitting up against the headboard as he sipped at a mug of coffee. He glanced at you with a subtle smile pulling at his lips.

“Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty,” he said.

You smiled sleepily. Yawning, you turned and curled yourself into him without really thinking about it. But then it hit you, how intimate this was…and how much that conflicted you inside.

You eased away from him with a faked yawn, stretching your limbs, and gaining at least a few inches between you. Ben watched you do it with a certain glint of knowing in his eyes.

“You moan in your sleep,” he remarked idly.

You shot him a look of surprise. “I do not.”

“Yeah, you do. I fucking heard you,” he said. His lips pulled at a smirk. He set his coffee down and rolled over, trapping you underneath him. He thumbed at your chin. “Here I am thinking, ‘This dirty little girl. Didn’t get enough last night, did she?’”

You bit the inside of your lip against a smile. Your face warmed with a blush.

“Is that why you don’t want me in your bed?” he asked. “You embarrassed, sweetheart?”

At that, you frowned. “No, it’s not…”

“Because believe me, I’ve seen weirder shit,” he said. “There was one girl who sleepwalked into my fucking closet. That one was a headscratcher… Aw hell, one girl even took a shit in my bed.”

You gaped. “Seriously?”

He grimaced at the memory. “And tried to blame her Pomeranian. Think I don’t know a human shit when I see one?”

You blinked in bewilderment and disgust. “Dear Lord.”

Ben stroked your side.

“So you got nothing to worry about,” he said, a slow grin curving his lips. “Some little sex noises don’t bother me.”

You laughed a little, but then you chewed on your lower lip, looking up at him. You didn’t know what compelled you to be honest in that moment.

“It’s not that, it’s just…ever since I got my powers, I’ve felt safest sleeping alone,” you said.

Ben’s amusement faded. “Why’s that?”

“I’m not like you,” you admitted, touching his chin with your fingertip. “When I’m asleep, I’m vulnerable, just like everybody else.”

He seemed to consider what you were saying with furrowed brows. You itched to sweep his hair away from his eyes, but you kept your hands to yourself.

“Well, you’re safe with me,” he said eventually.

You tilt your head at him. You wondered if he really meant that, or if it was just part of the façade of “charm” he was trying to portray. Even with your skin touching his, you couldn’t quite read his heart to parse that one out.

You had to pull back on the connection before he realized that you were trying…

But then again, maybe it was you who didn’t want to know for sure.

Christmas came around sooner than you expected. This time of year was heavy on your heart, after your mom’s death.

“I’ll be back before New Year’s,” you said, leaning up to give Ben a kiss. You were in his apartment saying goodbye. His personal chef was in the kitchen cooking up something that smelled amazing, but you had to leave. You had to pick up your father in Brooklyn and drive both of you over to your brother’s house in Queens.

“What’s the winter like in Indiana?” Ben asked in curiosity.

You blinked. Fuck if you knew, but he still thought you were a smalltown girl from the boonies and the cornfields.

“Um…cold. Snowy. Same as here, basically, but the wind isn’t going to cut through your bones when you turn a corner around a skyscraper,” you said.

Ben gave a mild shrug in response. Like he was ever going to go to Indiana.

“Well, gotta go catch my flight,” you fibbed, but you grew curious about something as you peered up at him. “What’re you doing for the holidays? Seeing family, or…”

Again, he shrugged. “Nah, I’ll be here. I don’t get into that corny festive bullshit.”

You frowned. Something told you it wasn’t just that he didn’t do Christmas. He didn’t seem to have any family, or friends outside of Vought, for that matter. If you can count any of those people friends.

Was he really just going to be here all alone until New Year’s Eve?

Perhaps for the first time, you felt a bit bad for him. You knew you couldn’t invite him over for your holiday plans, however.

So you gave him another kiss goodbye, and you left.

You returned in time for Vought’s annual New Year’s Eve bash. According to Tommy and Tessa, it was legendary. First, there was a huge banquet held for all the big wigs and the investors and the press. That was just to load up on good food and champagne.

The real party was the afterparty, made up almost exclusively by supes employed by Vought—from all across the country. Of course, Payback were the guests of honor, with Soldier Boy leading the pack on free booze and lines of drugs smoked or snorted across most available surfaces.

You felt overwhelmed by all of it at first. In fact, you almost left the party. But then you saw a very drunk Countess in a little red cocktail dress, offering Ben to take a shot of tequila out of her mouth. It stirred irritation in your gut.

You grabbed the nearest bottle of alcohol, went over to them, and subtly touched Countess’s bare shoulder.

Give that shot to Tommy, you compelled her.

With that small trill of your power, Countess stood straighter and beelined straight for Tommy. She grabbed him by the back of his head and surprised him with a deep tequila kiss.

Gross.

You grimaced at the sight, but when you looked back at Ben, he was smirking in amusement. He slid an arm around your waist and spoke closely in your ear.

“Let’s have some fun.”

The next morning, you sat up in bed with a groan. Your head pounded with a horrible hangover of at least three different substances. You wiped the remnants of powder from your itchy nose. And you were naked.

You drew the sheets to cover up to your breasts, which accidentally pulled the covers off another warm body beside you—a mystery woman. Someone you vaguely recognized as another supe from the party. She woke with a wince.

“Ooh, fuck, where’s the bathroom?” she asked. You were bleary-eyed, but you managed to point over to the left. She nodded and slowly got out of bed.

You wiped at your face and realized that Ben was there as well. It was his bed, after all.

He was slowly waking up too, looking more than a little fucked up himself. You groaned and slid under his arm, resting your head against his chest. Mistakes had been made, but you couldn’t bring yourself to give a shit.

Way to ring in 1984.

There was a reason you didn’t like group training sessions. You watched with a grimace from your corner of the matt, along with the TNT Twins. For sure, they did not want to be next in the ring with Ben. His idea of training wasn’t very…constructive.

“Lighten up, Gunpowder. I’m just playing around,” Ben said, as Countess helped the younger man off the floor in concern. His eye was already swelling up, along with his bloody lip. He was too exhausted to even get off the mat. You’d tried stopping Ben fifteen minutes ago, but he hadn’t budged.

He now rolled his eyes and walked away from Gunpowder, waving a dismissive hand. “You fucking pussy.”

Your brows furrowed with your frown. You were cautious as you approached him again and lightly touched his arm.

“Was that really necessary?” you asked. “Ben, he’s only eighteen.”

He shot you a stern look.

“Don’t fucking start with me.”

He was definitely tougher on the men than he was on you or Countess, but still, it wasn’t easy to watch. This was the side of him you didn’t often see when you were alone with him. With you, he was still crass and arrogant, but sometimes, his harder edges softened the slightest bit.

In front of the team, he was Soldier Boy. He could be callous, and even cruel. It reminded you of every mission you went on together; every brutal, fatal move against the “bad guys,” and every innocent life that got caught in the crossfire.

The double doors to the gym opened, and in came Black Noir. You grew concerned, as you sensed anger coming off of him in waves.

“You’re late,” Ben said, crossing his arms. “We started at 3.”

“I really wanted that movie,” said Noir.

“The hell are you talking about?”

“I just got off the phone with my manager,” Noir continued. “It’s a no-go on Beverly Hills Cop.”

“Oh, that,” Ben said, with a roll of his eyes. Your own widened a fraction.

Noir stepped forward, his hands balling into fists. “I was born to play Axel Foley. Why would you say all those horrible things about me to Don Simpson?”

Your mouth fell open in shock. Don Simpson was a big deal. He’d produced Flashdance just last year.

“Jesus, Ben. Really?” you said.

“Zip it, Sirena,” Ben snapped. Your mouth fell shut, even as you glared at him. He rarely called you by your supe name behind Vought’s closed doors.

“The guy’s supposed to be funny,” said Ben. He pointed back at Noir. “You’re. Not. Funny.”

“Well, I…could’ve been,” Noir said, a little weakly.

If there was one thing Ben couldn’t stand, it was a weak spine.

“You’re not good enough!” he barked. “Now shut your cockhole, and get to work.”

“But—” The moment Noir grabbed the other man’s shoulder, you knew it was going to be bad.

Ben turned and threw a swift punch that would’ve rattled any supe’s spine, even if they did have super strength. It wasn’t even a contest. He beat Noir down bloody on the mats, no matter what you or the others shouted out.

You were horrified, and you couldn’t stand by and watch anymore. You hurried over and tried to touch Ben’s arm. Maybe you could calm him down.

“Ben, stop! He’s had enough—”

He meant to just rip his arm out of your grasp. Maybe he’d shove you out of the way, out of his way. But the momentum of it sent you to the floor, with the wind knocked out of you.

It managed to briefly cut through his anger. He paused, seeing the shock and the stricken look on your face. You were looking at him like he was some kind of animal.

Deep down, he felt like one too. He just couldn’t allow himself to show it.

“That’s what happens when you don’t stay the fuck out of the way,” he growled.

You blinked wide as wet tears gathered in your lashes. It struck a cacophonous chord inside him, down to his bones.

He turned away from you to glare down at Black Noir. This was his fucking fault.

“You think you can be me?” Ben sneered. “You’re not a movie star. You’re not shit. I see you getting outta line again, trying to ‘move on up,’ I will put you in the fucking ground. Understood?”

Noir, fucking pussy that he was, stayed there on the ground covered in his own blood. By the time Ben turned back to where you’d fallen, you were no longer there.

You were gone.

You left the gym in tears. You pulled a staff member aside and let her know that Black Noir and Gunpowder were going to need medical attention.

“Are you okay?” she asked in concern. “Do you need—”

“I’m fine!” you snapped, even though you were still crying. It was more embarrassment at this point. You knew what Ben was from the very beginning. You’d just never thought he would…

Sucking in one deep breath, you steeled yourself. You wiped your face dry and forced your expression to ease into nothing. Blankness.

Show them what you want them to see.

He tried to come see you that night, but you wouldn’t let him into your apartment.

He sent flowers—some bullshit roses, with an apology written on the card.

I'm sorry.

You threw them in the trash.

You were done playing this game. It wasn’t worth it.

He wasn’t worth it…

Or so you felt, for the first few days. You began to wonder just how much shit Countess had to put up with for the years that she was with him. You wondered if he’d ever hit her.

You replayed that moment over and over in your mind. You knew if you hadn’t intervened, Ben wouldn’t have shoved you. He hadn’t truly meant to, you thought. With his strength, you were lucky it hadn’t been worse.

He didn’t mean it, you tried to rationalize. Even as you tried not to think about Gunpowder, or Noir, bloody on the floor.

Because at the end of the day, being with Ben was still good for your career, and if you kept denying him like this, he’d likely just go back to Countess.

So, even though it took a huge chunk out of your pride, you ventured to the elevators and up to the penthouse suite. By now, your feet knew this path by heart, even if your stomach churned with unease.

You stood in front of Ben’s door for a minute, just thinking. You knew this was the lowest you’d ever been. Was your career really worth debasing yourself like this?

Well, your question was soon answered when the door swung open. You hastily stepped back as a trio of smiling, giggling women came out from the apartment, all of them high-heeled and scantily dressed. Behind them was Ben in a black silk robe. His hair was a mess, and he had that post-nut look on his face, along with a layer of drying sweat. They all stunk like weed and sex.

Ben paused in the doorway when he saw you. His amusement faded. You let the girls slip past you without comment. Then you crossed your arms and looked up at him flatly.

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. At least, nothing good.

“Hey,” he said.

You nodded. “Right.”

You turned from him and started walking down the hall the way you came, but Ben reached out fast and grabbed your wrist.

“All right, look—”

He turned you around, only stopping short when you gasped, your eyes glowing with thinly veiled power on reflex.

“Let go of me,” you demanded. Your tone was firm, but you both heard the fear in your voice. His jaw clenched.

It seemed Ben did have a sliver of a heart somewhere inside his chest, because he let you go. You continued on your way, scrubbing furiously at the sting in your eyes.

“Dad, I just…I don’t think I can do this anymore,” you confessed. You were sitting on the edge of your bed with your head in your hands. You didn’t want to burden your brother, who had his own family, his own problems. So you called your dad first. Tears slipped down your cheeks and bled into your jeans.

“I think I need to come home,” you sniffed.

“Aw, honey. I’m sorry to hear you’re having such a hard time,” he said. “But you knew it was going to be difficult. You’ve been doing so well too.”

“I know, but—”

“And your mom’s medical bills might be taken care of, but I’ve still got the house to pay off. If it wasn’t for my back, I’d be out there working two and three jobs like I used to, but you know, I just can’t do it anymore.”

You rubbed at your tired, bleary eyes and sighed.

“Yeah. Okay, I know,” you said. “I’m going to help you, don’t worry.”

“So you’re gonna stay right? You’re going to work it out with Soldier Boy? You two do look good together, I’ve gotta say. What happened exactly? You didn’t uh, really explain that part.”

Your lower lip trembled. “Actually, Dad, I’m getting a page. Let me call you back later, okay?”

“Oh. Well, okay, sweetheart. I’m here for you. You know that.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Your next conversation was in Arthur Cohen’s office. You’d marched in while he was on the phone and said:

“I’m quitting the team.”

Arthur, professional that he was, gave you one look before he told whoever was on the other line that he’d call them back in a minute. Then he turned to you with his full attention, folding his hands on his desk. His many gold and silver rings shone in the lamplight.

“What can I do for you, sweetheart?” he asked. As if to say, Did I just hear you correctly?

You remained firm. “I want out of my contract. I’m quitting Payback.”

Arthur needed a beat on that one. “…Ah. I see.”

He held out a hand to one of the chairs in front of his desk.

“Please,” he gestured. You reluctantly obliged.

“Okay, I understand you’ve been going through some hard times—”

“Do you?” you intoned, tilting your head.

He nodded. “Believe me, I do. The problem is, you’re under a two-year minimum contract. You’re only about a year in. If you want out, no problem. I can do that for you.”

“Good,” you said. “Let’s make it happen.”

He held up a hand. “However. If you back out of this deal, remember that we invested in you. You’ll have to give back the advance we gave you, plus everything we’ve spent on your marketing, your new suit, your training, not to mention that little incident we smoothed over a couple months ago. A lot of lawyers and red tape. It’ll drive ya nuts…but it all adds up, unfortunately.”

Fuck. It hit you almost like a physical blow, a deep churning in your stomach. What kind of soul-sucking contract had you signed? Had you even read the fine print on that one?

For a long moment, you stared at Arthur’s desk in silence, to a point where he began to fidget slightly. You raised your head.

“All right,” you said, with a perfect smile. “I understand.”

Then you got up and left.

Arthur heaved a breath of relief. Fucking supes.

His door opened again, but to Stan Edgar. Arthur still didn’t know what to make of this guy. There was something about his calm, unfazed demeanor that Arthur didn’t trust.

“Sure, screw my lunch break. What can I do for ya?” he drawled.

Stan raised a brow and handed a thick file to him.

“I just got off the phone with Director Kasey from the CIA,” he said. “We’re approved for Nicaragua.”

AN: 🫣 Ooh, don't hate me loll. It's gonna get worse before it gets better. I did warn about morally charcoal characters in this series, especially Ben himself. (He's got a lot to learn, and so does Sirena, for that matter.)

And now, we hit another pivotal moment...

Next Time:

“We’re all playing a game, Irving. Just at different levels,” you said. “For example, what were you talking to Stan about?”

You’d seen them a couple of hours ago, hidden behind a fortified stone wall. Noir stopped walking. You were curious enough to follow suit.

“Something that could change everything for all of us,” he said. “You included.”

Your brows knitted together. “What’re you—”

Shots rang out in the clearing.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 8

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musicalislife · 4 months ago

Text

They played BLUZA on the radio. In other words WE HAVE THE STUDIO VERSION OF BLUZA!!!!

🎵 Val202 online radio 2024.09.25.

#joker out #bluza #bojan cvjetićanin #nace jordan #jan peteh #jure maček #kris guštin

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animeyanderelover · 6 months ago

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Can I get yandere sakamaki and mukami (I think that's their name) with a male reader who once were their friends, (during that time, they hide their feelings) but they accidentally kill him and one day they met him. After he was reincarnated and the moment they met is the same how they once first met

Example : reader met Shu in the garden, Shu will met reader when he is in the garden as well!

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, paranoia, stalking, clinginess, violence, sadism, delusional mindset, isolation, abduction, manipulation, clinginess, hallucination, mentions of self-harm in Azusa's part, male reader

We meet once more...

Sakamaki Shu

🎵Just why had you been so adamant on leaving him that day in favor of pursuing your dreams? Yes, you had promised him to return to him in a few years time yet your words had sounded shallow in his ears. The argument that followed is something his mind forces him to replay even decades later. Normally the both of you had never been the type to let your emotions get the better of you but something about your words had irked him and his words had agitated you. As the emotions had risen higher both of you had gotten physical with each other as the argument escalated. It's when you had turned around with barely suppressed anger and concluded this conversation to be over that Shu had snapped. He had underestimated his own strength in that moment as he had pushed you, his ears ringing with wrath he had been feeling in the moment. Your body, only human and unable to handle his unexpected outburst of strength, flew down the stairs before you hit your head with a sickening crack on the ground, laying there motionlessly all whilst the blood created a bloody hallow around your head.

🎵Everything that even remotely reminds him of you has been removed from his life since then as he's unable to bear the emotions he's feeling whenever he lays eyes on something that triggers past memories. Shu completely withdraws himself from the memories of you in an attempt to cope with the pain yet there is no relief for him. He sees you in his sleep, sees you every time he closes his eyes. In one moment you are smiling, in the next he sees your limp body as his mind reminds him that it is his fault that you are dead. It's his loss of control that ended your life and it is from that day on that Shu decides to completely suppress all of his emotions as he deems feelings as something that will only lead to bad decisions. With the complete isolation from feeling comes the loss of any interest and motivation as Shu grows indifferent to anything that is happening around him. He blends out the world around him as he lives seclusively in his own world where the only loyal companions he has are music and the haunting memories of you.

🎵It starts raining on that night as he is lying on a bench in a park yet he doesn't care as cold raindrops hit his equally cold skin. Blue eyes lazily stare at the grey sky before he closes them, blending the sound of the rain out by listening to some music as he closes his eyes. Instantly his inner vision is filled with memories of you, a familiar bittersweet ache grasping his dead heart. He doesn't notice when the raindrops stop hitting him, he only notices when someone grasps his shoulders and shakes him carefully. His heightened senses, previously submerged in a world only he knows, return to him as he hears over the music he is blasting into his ears a voice calling out to him, his nostrils flaring up as he picks up another scent next to the smell of fresh water pouring out of the sky. A hauntingly familiar smell. He cracks open his eyes yet his vision remains filled with the sight of your face looking down on him worried, an umbrella shielding him and you from the onslaught of rain. His heart starts quivering as blue eyes gaze upon you as emotions he swore to burrow reanimate. A hand instinctively shoots out to grab you by the shoulder and keep you in place, his grip slightly shaky. You... How are you...?

Sakamaki Reiji

☕You've always been impressed with him. Reiji is a walking library personified and you have always sought out his help when you were struggling with your own research. Reiji had taken it up on himself for that very same reason to take you under his wing and teach you about everything as he helped you with your own studies, needing you to be on the same level as him to be a worthy partner. Deep down he just loved the praise and attention you gave him for his impressive knowledge, something he had never gotten from his own mother. One day he took you to the mansion, to his own room as he had been working on a science project and had wanted you to see the final results. A few minutes. He had only left you alone for a few minutes to fetch some documents when he had heard an explosion which had rang louder in his ears due to his heightened senses. The sound had come from his room. An acidic smell had filled his room when he had arrived, the aroma stinging his eyes with water. Maybe, just maybe, the sight of your lifeless body on the ground had been another reason, your face deformed as you had been standing right above the test tubes when the chemical reaction had occured.

☕Over the years Reiji has done all that he could to downplay his own emotions. After all all had been your fault for getting too curious and playing around with his set. He had warned you to not touch anything unless he was there with you so your death had merely been a result of your own stupidity. Yet the occasional snicker of people like Ayato or Laito has always gotten more under his skin than it should have as they sometimes joke about the scientific accident on that day. After all their older brother who has always portrayed himself as the smartest person of them all had been careless enough to let such an accident happen. Perhaps it is the perfectioniest housing inside of him that starts considering their words more and more. Could he have done more on that day to prevent this from happening? He starts considering this question more in quieter moments and painful realisation hits him when he does come up with ideas that could have prevented you from dying on that day. Why didn't he think of those ideas earlier? He's never able to live this failure down and deep down it shakes up his core beliefs.

☕He's in the library that day to borrow a new staple of books that have just recently been published. Normally he doesn't like going under humans that much and this library is an especially sore spot for him. Even if it has gone through some major changes over the decades, this is the place where he met you so long ago for the first time. He despises the feelings that always threaten to pour out of him when he is in this place so he hurries up to get all those books. Just as he is about to walk away with all of them in his arms though, a familiar scent invades his nostrils, one that has his brain short-circuiting for a brief moment. Then a pouty voice fills his ears, complaining how you wanted to borrow these books as well for your upcoming studies in college. His head wipes around, pink eyes narrowing in disbelief and shock as he sees a spitting image of you standing behind him, the same sulky expression on your face that you used to always give him. You're startled when he drops the pile of books and swiftly walks over to you, his glare antagonising you as gloved hands suddenly grab your face and pull you closer to scrutinise your features better. How is this possible?

Sakamaki Ayato

🥇Ayato always wanted and needed to have it his way. That is something you were familiar with with passing time. Here and there the two of you did get into arguments but it never really escalated as you were somewhat forced to take on the role of the calmer person due to Ayato's aggressive behavior at times. He liked having you with him all the time, showing you off as if you were a priced possession of his. In a way you were as Ayato deeply loved you and he couldn't have cared less about the fact that the both of you were the same gender. As long as he kept on being the best he could have whatever he wanted after all in his mind. It was his forceful and aggressive temper that ultimately led to your death though as you had started making friends with new people, something he couldn't have despised more. A shouting match between the two of you where he demanded from you to drop those pathetic friends of yours, a violent hit to your head as you dared to stand up properly against him for the first time since your friendship had started and a dull thud as your body fell to the ground, eyes glossy with the unmistakable haze of death. Why do you humans have to be so fragile?

🥇None of this is his fault! He didn't do anything wrong! Those are words he constantly yells at his brothers as soon as he even thinks that they're trying to bring the incident up to him. It's all your fault for being so stupid to go against him! You-you should have known better than going against his demands... No matter how often he repeats those accusations, no matter how loud he yells them at someone, they never get through to him as his heart remains unconvinced. Unconsciously he is probably aware that he is at least partially responsible for your death as he should have been better at controlling his own strength yet it is his own arrogance and pride that doesn't allow his mind this realisation. The following decades he tries desperately to feed into his own ego by picking up hobby after hobby, especially ones involving physical activity to master them and convince himself that it wasn't his own lack of control over his own body that was to blame on your death. Yet still he finds himself constantly turning around, green eyes searching for you when he scores a goal or masters a sport only to be reminded that you are dead as his mood instantly worsens.

🥇Sometimes Ayato finds himself still approaching a certain place that remains special in his heart. An abandoned building at the edge of town that has decayed over the years only more. It's a place where he met you for the first time many years ago and both of you used to play around here though he would always win against you and puff out his chest whilst proclaiming himself to be the best. He's been avoiding the ruined building ever since your death but in the last few years he has occasionally found himself walking down the streets to stare at it from outside the rusty fences. It is the sound of a ball being kicked against the walls that peaks his curiosity and his eyes suddenly narrow. This is his special place even though he hasn't entered in decades... Who dares to tread on it? He effortlessly climbs up the fences though he initially hesitates to step on the property again. His eyes are able to pick up the sight of the intruder from this high though, someone who looks very familiar. You on the other hand nearly jump out of your skin when he storms over to you and grabs you by the hem of your shirt. Is this a fucking joke?? If it is, he is everything but amused!

Sakamaki Kanato

🧸Kanato has attached himself to you from the moment you gained his obsessive interest. After all besides Teddy he had no one else in his life so he was ecstatic and giddy to have finally found someone who could care for him and spend time with him. It has never been easy to deal with Kanato and his explosive and highly sensitive emotions. The worst thing that came out of it was the isolation that came with being Kanato's victim of obsession. A situation that had always been very dangerous turned into pure peril when he threatened to kill the person you had recently gotten close too, clutching his plushie tightly against his chest as he did so. Why would you betray him like this in the first place? He thought that you were happy with him... Isn't he more than enough for you? You're so greedy and selfish!! Your mistake on that day was trying to reason with him even though no logic would have worked on Kanato on that moment as the accusations piled up. You didn't love him! You wanted to leave him! He didn't want that... He didn't want to be left alone... That's why he killed you on that day in a frenzy as his hysteria got the better of him and stabbed you to death.

🧸He kept your corpse and pretended that you were still alive until the scent of rotting flesh threatened to shatter his sanity and he had to burn you. Unable to live without you though he instantly created a life-sized doll of yours and dressed it up with the clothes he still had of you so that it would even smell like you. Everything continued as if you were still there as his brain couldn't accept the reality that you had died and that he had been the one who had done it. Yes, in death they couldn't take you away from him but he hadn't considered in the moment of hysteria that he couldn't have you anymore either. As if to brush over this moment as if it had never happened he acted like you were still alive as he held tea parties and wheeled the puppet around the mansion, even taking you to meals where he tried to feed you. None of his other brothers spoke up and mentioned his deteriorating mental health as Kanato's mind created the delusion that you were still there as he even hallucinated that the puppet was speaking to him and answering his question. It was all a delicate delusion though that needed not to be shattered under any circumstances or else he would snap and turn into a maniac.

🧸Nothing has happened. You were never gone. A protective shield for his mind to not completely shut down. He's currently outside in a field of flowers as the moon shines in the sky, collecting some bouquets for the next tea party he plans to hold at midnight with you again. When he looks up though, he lets out a strangled sound when his eyes land on your form walking relaxed around outside, a cookie in your mouth as you hold a packet filled with sweets you just bought in town. For a short moment there is a crushing dread of realisation threatening to shatter him yet his mind pulls up its walls in the last moment. Cold hands grasp your own and you nearly get a heart attack as you turn around only to see a pale and sick-looking man standing right behind you, asking you with a trembling voice what you are doing outside. Both of you are about to have a tea party and you were supposed to wait for him. Then his eyes land on the packet of sweets which you dropped on the ground. If you wanted new sweets you could have just told him instead of leaving without his permission... Well, he'll punish you later. For now the both of you should return to the mansion.

Sakamaki Laito

🎹Laito saw the fact that the both of you are of the same gender not as a hurdle and more like a new and exciting adventure waiting to be uncovered by him. After all he truly couldn't care less about what gender you are. He's just taking it for what it is and goes for what he desires without any hesitation. Though he does understand that the time period the both of you are living in wasn't very accepting of couples of the same sex at the time. He didn't need their approval though as all he would have really needed to do was whisk you away and keep you in the mansion where hw ould have been able to do whatever he desired to do with you. Jealousy had already led him to kill people his mother had taken as temporary lovers and it was jealousy that fueled the crime of him murdering your secret lover and by accident you as well when he found out that you had kept the relationship a secret from him though the way you had reeked of someone else had given it away. He hadn't intended to stab you but when you had tried to fight against him to defend your already half-dead lover, he accidentally drove the knife right through your heart.

🎹To this day he still blames your lover for your death. He didn't let them touch you when you bled out on the ground as he stomped on their hand and broke all their bones in it, didn't listen to their pleas as he had twirled the knife around in his hand with a new icy ire burning in his green eyes and he didn't even stop torturing them long after their heart had stopped beating. Initially Laito simply tried to dismiss his feelings for you now that you were gone and tried to move on. He whored around with other people from women to men to everything else as if to convince himself that perhaps his feelings for you hadn't been anything special to begin with as it might have been simply a fleeting moment of excitement and ecstasy yet his mind always drifts to you whenever his tongue is in the mouth of someone else. There is a sick feeling in his stomach whenever he undresses someone or his current companion touches him suggestively and he gets no pleasure and relief whenever he fucks someone for as soon as the moment of ecstasy passes by his mind is overcome with a disgust he didn't know he could feel. Temporary freedom only lasts for a few seconds before he's back where he started.

🎹On that night he finds himself going once again through all pubs in town in search for those few seconds of blissful forgetfullness, a dangerous addiction he has developed to escape from the clutches of disgust and guilt. The smell of alcohol is especially bitter when he hits up the bar where he met you nearly half a century ago, green eyes darting around in search of his next victim. That's when his eyes are drawn to a figure sitting alone on the counter and from behind their silhoutte reminds him painfully much of you. His feet move on their own as he steps closer to the counter and the closer he gets, the more a sweet fragrance of blood invades his nose and mind. Green eyes narrow as he lays a hand on the shoulder of the person who turns around surprised when feeling his palm. For the first time in his life Laito is unable to come up with a witty reply as he stares into your face, in disbelief at who he is looking at. His grip subconsciously tightens on your shoulder as if not wanting to let you go and it is only when you let out an uncomfortable wince that he snaps out of it. A smooth grin covers up his shock as he slides down the sit next to you, green eyes gleaming with a predatory glint as he offers to order you a few more drinks.

Sakamaki Subaru

⬜Subaru has always considered himself to be an unwanted monster that would only hurt the people he cares about which is why he has closed his heart so that he may never get attached to anyone only to be reminded of how unwanted he really is. It's painful for him to see how you slowly peel him out of his shell as emotions he has troubles to properly grasp bloom inside of him. It is all so agonising, confusing and somewhere in between that it is even a bit beautiful yet he is wavering, unsure whether to trust you with his heart. He should have never trusted you to begin with. Of course you wouldn't want him. The pain and heartbreak that assaults him the moment he finds out that you have already a lover and plan to propose to them tear his heart out of his chest and the sheer agony that comes with it has him entering a screaming rage he cannot control. His vision is simmering red as his wrath takes over and has him lashing out. His hands are coated with blood, your blood, when he comes to his senses only to be plunged into his next despair as he realises that he lost complete control and killed not only your lover but also you.

⬜The stench of blood never leaves his hands nor does the sickening warm and sticky feeling of it. He swears that it's still there, reeking and reminding him that he truly is a monster destined to kill anyone important to him. Sometimes he spends an hour washing and rubbing his hands until they are raw to clean himself of that cursed smell and feeling yet it is a mark that stays with him to remind him of his grave sin. Subaru withdraws himself completely from the outside for a while and hides in his room, locks himself away as if thinking that he is a beast that has to be put behind bars. He most likely thinks that he is. The agony and the grief comes in periods. Sometimes he manages to push it all down so that only his heart is aching and sometimes the walls break into pieces and the flood of emotions bursts out of him. Hot and salty tears cascade down his cheeks as a scream of anguish escapes his lips as furniture is shattered and walls receive cracks as he violently punches around him until he calms down and sits in the destruction his anger has caused with dull eyes.

⬜Sometimes he even neglects taking care of the roses in the garden, his confidence to care for things weaker than him utterly shattered as he thinks of himself as incapable of even nurturing the flowers. It takes him time until he slowly starts picking up this hobby of his again though he remains distant and cold to everyone else around him, his roses the only thing he seems to care about anymore. Sometimes he visits a florist in town to buy some new buds to plant into the garden of the mansion, although he always hurries with his shopping as this shop brings back too many memories. It is there though that his heart blossoms once again because as soon as he walks in he spots you arranging flowers into bouquets, your eyes meeting his as you greet him cheerfully. He stops right there, his body no moving a muscle as if subconsciously afraid that as soon as he moves, he'll do something terrible. His emotions leave him trembling as he can't help the stinging tears threatening to escape his eyes all whilst you give him a concerned look as he feels his control slowly slipping away from him. Shit! Why after all of this time?

Mukami Ruki

📘Ruki has always liked to give you more trust due to the fact that you were also a man as he had lost faith in the loyalty of women after his own mother left his father and him for another man, leading inevitably to the downfall of his life. You were supposed to be better than this... You weren't supposed to also leave him behind... Yet his world is shaken when it is revealed to him that you have accepted an apprenticeship far away from the town he is residing in with his other brothers, oblivious to his own horror as you deliver him the news whilst looking so excited. Are you really so selfish that you would prioritise your own dreams over him? All Ruki wanted was to prevent you from leaving, all he intended to do was to weaken your body with drugs so that you wouldn't be able to take the long journey to the new town. A twinge of paranoid fear caused him to put in too much of the drugs into your food though as he wanted to be sure that they'd do their job which led him to give you an overdose that ultimately led to your death.

📘Responsibilities have always rested on his shoulders as he is essentially the leader of the Mukami brothers and so he intends to focus on his duties instead of taking the time to mourn. He tells himself that he shouldn't mourn a person who wanted to abandon him in the first place and that you probably never loved him to begin with yet even to the eyes of his brothers it is obvious that Ruki is suffering. As soon as they attempt to console them though he shuts them up as he insists with a slightly clenched jaw that he is completely fine and that they are worried over nothing. On the inside he feels like he is rotting away though and as much as he tries to push that thought away, the emptiness that is crying out inside of him becomes harder to blend out until one day Ruki breaks down for a moment, leaving the rest of his brothers to care for him on that day as he just spends his time being a mess before he shakily puts himself together the next day, making all of his brothers swear that they never mention your name again nor his outburst.

📘For decades no one in the mansion mentions your name and Ruki continuously tells himself that this is for the best as he wants to bury you in the past. There is no remedy for the bittersweet memories though that have been haunting him ever since your death nor for the slimy dread that clings to him whenever he realises that it is his own fault that you died. He's on the other side of the street when he happens to glance over to the other side, staring through the windows of a pharmacy that has been there since nearly 200 years. He remembers the place very well since he met you there for the first time and he remembers the place well because he purchased the ingredients for the drug that ultimately killed you in the same store. In there everything began and also ended. Truly poetic, isn't it? It's not his memories that cause him to stop though as he stares at the pharmacy. It's the sight of a familiar figure that has his body pausing and his throat tightening. He's rushing over to the store in the next second, almost experiencing a tunnel vision as he can only focus on you. He slams the package of pills you've purchased right out of your hands, visions of your dead body haunting him.

Mukami Kou

🎤Kou has never really given much of a care that both of you were of the same gender. He's been sexually explored by other people as a young child and for that knows firsthand of the evil that others carry in their hearts, regardless of their sex. It's his ability to see through the true heart of people that has him enamored with you as he realises that you have a pure heart which allows him to give you his full trust. One day though you confess to him that your parents have become aware of your friendship with him, precisely of Kou's feelings for you which you remain oblivious to at the moment and have threatened to disinherit you if you do not distance yourself from him. That is when Kou makes a plot to get rid of your parents as he won't tolerate anyone to get in the way of him and you. All was carefully planned out. He'd lure you away before setting your parents house on fire at night so that they'd die in there yet you figure his plan out. The words you yell at him that night before rushing into the burning house will haunt him forever as you admit that you wish you'd never met him before you try to save your parents only to die together with them.

🎤He could have stopped you. He should have stopped you. You were only a human after all whilst he is a vampire. It's your words that completely froze him though and disabled him to work properly as his mind went into numbing shock after having heard your words. He wanted you to take those words back yet you died in the fire and left those words that told him that he was unwanted by you as an eternal curse that has been sticking with him ever since. Those words echo inside his head and for the first years following your death they drag him down into a hysteric depression. He cannot go to sleep at all as your disappointed and angered face haunts his vision, your voice telling him that he is someone you never wished to have met over and over again so that he wakes up not even half an hour after he has gone to bed, in tears and babbling incoherent words. He writes a lot of songs about you but never finishes them as he either draws a blank and starts breaking down in tears or rips them apart as his emotions get the better of him. Not even his brothers can help to piece his broken self together.

🎤He's sitting outside on that day, dull eyes observing a lake where the both of you used to hang out often back when you were still alive. He's on his own, something he hasn't been in decades as he hasn't left the mansion since your death and was too broken to be on his own which left his brothers no choice but look out more for him. There is nothing in particular on his mind as he gazes at the lake until a melody catches his ears. Normally he would have just blended it out like he has done music a lot in those years since your death yet there is something very familiar as he listens as someone plays the strings of the guitar. That's a melody you always used to play... Suddenly it's like someone lit a fire under him as he jumps up, eyes flying over the field surrounding the lake until he covers a small figure also sitting here, playing on a guitar they brought with them. Initially he wants to demand from where they know that melody as this is something that only belonged to you and for that shouldn't be played by anyone else but poisonous words die down when he catches a better sight of them and realises that it is you. He stands there motionlessly, listening to the song as tears start to escape his eyes.

Mukami Yuma

🌱Yuma has been sceptical about the whole situation from the moment he found out that he had feelings for you. Not necessarily because the both of you were men as he had always been an outcast and would have been considered that all the more if the humans would have figured out that he was now also a vampire. It was more the aspect of being in love that made him somewhat doubtful as he had quite an iffy mindset about it all. You didn't know at that time that he was a vampire and he knew what the rest of the village you lived in thought of creatures of the night. Who was to tell that you wouldn't try to cast him out in the name of god as well if you were to discover his true nature? Unfortunately that was exactly what happened and your reaction was as fearful as expected as you instantly tried to get away from him. He tried to explain it to you, tried to get you to listen but you had been indoctrinated with the same nonsense all other villagers believed in. Shut up... He just wanted you to shut up for a moment as he pressed his hands over your mouth, applying too much pressure and accidentally breaking more than just a few bones that were the reason for your death.

🌱It was on that day that he became aware just how much stronger he had gotten since he had been turned into a vampire as he held your limp body in his arms. He doesn't want to be consoled by any of his brothers though as he turns around or growls at them to shut up as soon as he senses that they want to talk with him about the accident. Yuma doesn't try to blame anyone else for this though as he acknowledges that this is solely his fault. Your reaction was to be expected and he should have known best just how much strength he possessed. There is no chance he wants to give himself to grieve though. He has never openly bemoaned anyone before and for that he doesn't quite know how to do so. Instead he spends a lot of time in his garden and tends to his vegetables and plants, though he can't help but always be reminded that those fragile things could be even easier ripped apart by his hands than you were. Yuma needs a long time until finally he starts cracking as he has just tried to bear the sorrow up until that point and even he is startled by the silent tears that drip down his face without any warning.

🌱There are some pretty cherry blossom trees in a forest near the city and they have been there even longer than the village built nearby. Yuma visits them once a year when the pink and delicate flowers are in full bloom, a little tradition he has been carrying on even if you have been gone for over a century now. Some of the pink petals rain down on him on that night as he walks through the little valley of the trees, the fresh scent of the blossoming flowers an aroma that surrounds the entire place. At this late at night it is rather rare for people tos visit this place which is why he is mildly annoyed when he catches sight of someone sneaking around, his mood instantly ruined as he wanted to have a peaceful stroll for himself. Until a breeze passes through the forest, carrying next to the scent of cherry blossoms another aroma with it. His previously worsened mood is instantly replaced with shocked disbelief as he instantly recognises that smell. It only takes him a few large strides to close the distance between him and the other person. He suddenly appears behind you like a large and looming shadow, his eyes narrowed as he grabs one of your arms to prevent you from running.

Mukami Azusa

🔪Azusa has never had the courage to tell you about his growing feelings for you. Yes, he has always been very clingy and attached to you but he has been like this even when his feelings for you were still largely platonic. His behavior did increase though when a different kind of love started blossoming inside of him. Truly, he doesn't care about who his darling is as long as he feels comforted and safe in their presence which is precisely what you give him. Perhaps if he would have found the courage to confess to you things would have turned out differently as he instead has to bear witness how someone else confesses their love to you before he does. He wants to plead you to not accept but his tongue feels like it has turned to led as he instead has to watch how you accept their confession and start a relationship with them. All he intended to do was to threaten your partner a bit yet they had to start acting so rudely and hurt his own feelings whilst flaunting that you only loved them before he started attacking them. You had heard the noises inside the house, tried to stop him and ended up taking the fatal blow.

🔪His brothers find him sitting in the bloody mess of two corpses, his own body clinging to yours as he keeps on begging you to wake up again, whispering you that your now cold skin terrifies him just as much as the vacant expression in your eyes. They have to tear him carefully away from your body, something Azusa can only object weakly to as he begs his brothers to not separate you from him. He loses all will to live for a while as he asks his brothers shakily if they could stab him in the same place where he stabbed you, tears in his eyes as he admits that he was the one who killed you and even if his brothers do try to console him and tell him that it was a terrible accident, Azusa is inconsolable. He's closely monitored for a long time as his older brothers all fear that he might try to harm himself somehow. Azusa himself withdraws himself from reality as he spends most of the time hidden under his blanket, rarely getting up and not speaking for months. The only sounds he makes are those of silent sobs, the tears never seeming to dry off no matter how much and how long he cries quietly.

🔪It takes him years before he gathers the strength to leave the mansion again and whilst he avoids the place where he took your life vehemently, he finds himself often returning to the location where he met you for the first time in an attempt to think of the happy memories. It's a random alleyway where you found him for the first place and offered ro bandage his wounds he had inflicted on himself on that day. As if hoping that you'll return if he does it again, Azusa often cuts himself in the same alleyway before sitting down and waiting there, looking like a wet cat with no place to return to. Some people do approach him but he ignores them since none of them are you and if they bother him too much normally all it takes is a rather dangerous look in his eyes and the flash of his knife for them to disappear. Then one day you do appear though, 80 years after your death and Azusa can barely believe what he is looking at as you ask him worriedly if he needs some band-aids for his cuts. In the next moment he is suddenly clinging to your legs, tears dropping down his eyes as he sobs out apologies for an accident you do not know of.

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cillianmesoftlyyy · 10 months ago

Text

How About It, Agent Miller? | Lenny Miller x fem!reader

Summary: The year is 1988. The Cold War is well underway and tensions are slowly rising between the US and the Soviets. CIA Agent Miller isn’t threatened by the new young agent from the Soviet Union but she has a plan to get his attention, and to get even.

Warnings: Misogyny, violence, gun, kidnapping, restraints, dubious consent, noncon, smut, unprotected sex, edging, drugging.

word count: 4661k

Sympathy for the Devil- The Rolling Stones 🎶

Devils Haircut- Beck 🎵

You Know I’m No Good- Amy Winehouse 🎶

Movie: Anna (2019)

Please read warnings before continuing, thanks!

He thought this job was going to be simple, almost easy. She was working for East Germany, young, and new to her position; surely she wouldn’t be that difficult to eliminate. He’d been working for the CIA for nearly fifteen years at that point. He was one of the top agents and had orchestrated the downfall of many notable German and Soviet spies. To be fair, there had been that minor detail of receiving several severed heads from the KGB back in 1985 but that was all behind him now. They didn’t scare him now, and certainly, that twenty-something agent he’d heard so much about wasn’t about to make him lose sleep. In fact, he was looking forward to meeting her.

The girl in question was twenty-two and one of the deadliest spies to ever work for East Germany (the communist side). Y/N Y/L/N managed to slip past the CIA on multiple occasions, stealing out the backdoor or using false passports to get out of the country undetected. She’d made one mistake, however, and Agent Miller was quick to catch it. He rued the way she’d avoided detection for so long when it felt like it was all due simply to good luck. She didn’t seem especially smart or conniving, just pretty. It pissed him off. The mistake that Y/N had made was small, easy to look over, but Agent Miller was looking, and he found it.

Y/N tricked men around her to get information on the US. Once she’d get them alone, she drugged them, shot them, etc; anything to get them out of her way while she downloaded classified files from their computers. She had managed to steal these files before without leaving traces of her crime but low and behold, the last time she had removed the flash drive without ejecting it from the computer’s system. The computer held onto the flash drive's information and told Agent Miller exactly what the young woman was planning next. She’d been collecting information on nuclear weapons and international trade deals that the US was trying to keep hush hush. And for that reason, Agent Miller knew who she was going after next.

He straightened his striped blue tie and cleared his throat as he and his team crowded into the elevator. The men behind him carried larger guns and thick bulletproof vests, ready for whatever the girl threw at them. They’d followed her into a hotel in New York City, a place that felt too normal for the situation at hand. When the elevator doors opened with a soft whooshing noise, Agent Miller nodded his agents on, directing them to either side of the corridor. Quickly, they raided the hotel room belonging to the man they believed she had gone after that evening, but did not find her there. She was nowhere in the hotel. Agent Miller cursed beneath his breath and gritted his teeth. He knew his impatience was his worst quality and it only hurt him in these situations, but then again, the American government isn’t known for being very patient with communists…

Clenching and relaxing his jaw, Agent Miller went back down in the elevator with his men. They separated into groups in the lobby, each climbing back into the armored car sent by the CIA. Agent Miller waited behind, his cold eyes trained on the curb in front of the hotel. His car was separate from the others and would take him directly back to his office. A sharp wind ruffled his dark brown hair, displacing one strand into his face as his car pulled up to the curb. Agent Miller climbed into the dark backseat, the car door slamming closed beside him and a lock clicking into place. He looked up. The barrel of a pistol was pointed at his forehead. He froze.

“Hello, Agent Miller. Wie geht es Ihnen? I’m so glad we finally got a moment alone. I apologize for the circumstances but you know how the politics are these days… it’s so… toxic. Ja? Now, be a good boy and hand me the glock you have at your hip,” a young woman smiled on the seat beside him. She was wearing all black and blended in against the dark leather seats and tinted windows. Agent Miller frowned, his hands unmoving.

“That doesn’t seem fair, does it? You’re putting me at a disadvantage here.”

“Don’t underestimate yourself like that, Agent Miller. You and I both know what you’re capable of,” she chuckled mockingly but her sunglasses hid her true meaning. “Give me your gun, now.” Her voice was hard and cool like a porcelain plate, one of the perfect edges with a chip. Agent Miller raised his hand slowly and moved his jacket to the side, showing his holster. As soon as she had his gun in her hand she tapped the glass partition between them and the driver, signaling him to drive.

“Where are we going?” Agent Miller sighed calmly, leaning back against the seat. Y/N smiled, pleased at his temperament. It made things easier.

“One of my favorite places in New York City,” she answered with a smirk, a gun still trained at the man beside her though it had been lowered.

“And what kind of place could that be, god forbid?” Agent Miller asked rhetorically and looked over at the window beside him.

“The Plaza Hotel,” she answered slowly and shifted in her seat. Her pleated leather skirt shifted across her black stockings, showing more of her thigh, fleshy and round. Agent Miller noticed it and smirked, the comedy of the situation being too much for him to take seriously. The car stopped at the back of the hotel by the service entrance. Men exited out of the building and held a door open, waiting as Y/N escorted the CIA agent inside. Agent Miller followed her calmly as he searched for someone who could help him.

“No one’s here. It’s off-season,” she sighed lightly and pushed him into an elevator.

“It’s never off-season in New York,” Agent Miller raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“Surprise, surprise.”

They took the elevator up to the top floor. Agent Miller’s hands began to sweat as he was led out of the elevator and around the corridor to a suite, separated from the others.

“You must get a good salary,” Agent Miller cracked as the woman jerked the gun towards the door of the suite. He kept his hands visible as he entered the room and looked around. The room was large and was actually made up of multiple rooms. In the center of the living room area, a chair had been left out.

“Sit down and make yourself comfortable. Bitte.” She had a way of talking that sounded like a purr but it was clear to Agent Miller that her words were more threatening than they sounded. Still, it was hard to take her seriously. It was hard to believe that this woman was the deadliest spy in East Germany.

“Danke schön,” Agent Miller muttered, his American accent muddling the German.

"Kannst du Deutsch sprechen, Herr Miller?” Y/N pretended to sound surprised as she closed and bolted the lock. “I’m flattered, really,” she smiled and removed her long black coat. Slowly she placed the coat on a couch’s arm and pulled off the blonde wig on her head, revealing her dark hair beneath which fell into a messy bob around her shoulders, over her dark mauve blouse. Last she removed her sunglasses and folded them neatly on her coat. Then she met his eyes.

“Nein? Well, then it's good I’m so fluent in English. You would never tell by my accent. At least, you didn’t the last time we met.”

“We’ve met before?” Agent Miller asked and shifted in his chair.

“Oh yes.” She smiled and dimples deepened on her cheeks.

An image came back to him, one of a young woman dropping a stack of manuscripts in the lobby of a hotel where they had been investigating the last crime scene. She’d been wearing a long brown wig and tortoiseshell glasses. She even had brown contacts in her eyes to hide her true eye color. He’d stopped to help her collect the manuscripts.

Oh gosh, thank you so much. So sorry about that. My boss is going to kill me. Thank you! She’d blushed as he handed her the papers. He’d met her before. She’d shown herself to him just to play with him. He scowled.

“Now I feel even more at a disadvantage.”

“How? After all, you’re the big-shot CIA agent, due for a promotion any day now… and I’m just a little girl. I don’t need any real smarts, not when I can just use my good looks to get what I want. Right, Agent Miller?” Her voice darkened as she finished, flashing with resentment. “You could fight me right now. It’s just the two of us. I’m surprised you didn’t. You’ve had ample opportunities to but you blindly follow my orders. It’s not that you’re scared to hurt me, you aren’t that sexist.”

“I don’t see the point of fighting when you’ve put so much work into getting me alone. I assume you have something to say.” Agent Miller swallowed, his cool facade slipping slightly as the woman approached him slowly.

“Aw how chivalrous of you! Oh, but what if I told you that I was only interested in getting you alone so that I could finally get even with you.” Y/N twirled the gun around her pointer finger and shifted it to his chest. He stiffened.

“Get even?”

“Settle the score,” she offered with a shrug.

“I don’t think I follow,” Agent Miller frowned warily.

“Then let me explain,” Y/N purred and with quick movements, she removed a pair of handcuffs from the back of her skirt and closed them tightly around both of his wrists, tying his hands around the back of the heavy chair. His eyes widened slightly when he realized what she had done.

“The fuck…” he started but she cut him off quickly.

“You didn’t think I could outsmart you or get the upper hand… you thought you could so easily catch me. And what a good job you’ve done!” She crossed her arms across her chest and set the gun down, smiling. Agent Miller averted his gaze, staring at the upper corner of the room. He clenched his jaw and struggled against the handcuffs for a brief moment.

“Haven’t you figured it out yet, Agent Miller?”

“Figured what out?” He snapped impatiently.

“I've been planning this for months. Do you really think I accidentally removed my flashdrive wrong, coincidentally leaving you all of the information that i’ve gathered since starting my mission? You’ve really underestimated me,” she clucked her tongue and kicked off her high heels, standing barefoot in her pantyhose on the dark pink shag carpet.

“I knew you’d find the mistake, I wanted you to. You did everything you were supposed to do, good boy,” she carded her fingers through his dark hair. The soft warm lighting in the room brought out the freckles across his pale face. Just as he started to turn his eyes to hers, she yanked his hair back so that he was looking up at her. “But how did this special agent who graduated from MIT of all places, end up in this position?”

“Did you do all of this just to show me how smart you are?” Agent Miller growled as she continued to pull at his roots.

“Something like that,” she smiled again, “I get off when men think they’re smarter than I am. I like proving them wrong… and then killing them.”

“Is that your plan for tonight?” He tried to keep a level voice as the smell of her perfume wafted down to his nose. She shook her head slightly and chuckled.

“You’ve been trained to resist torture, so there won’t be much that I can get out of you that way. And anyway, there isn’t much that I don’t already know.” She released her grip on his hair and stepped back. Y/N moved to the bar cart, stocked with crystal jars of whiskey and bourbon.

“So what are you going to do to me?” Agent Miller raised an eyebrow as he watched her pour a small glass of whiskey. She turned slowly and approached him again, swirling the whiskey in her glass. She raised the glass to his lips and poured it gently into his mouth. He parted his lips for her, his eyes trained on her face.

“Whatever I want,” she whispered and pulled the glass from his lips. Agent Miller raised his eyebrow, swallowing.

“Won’t your government disapprove?” He scoffed and shifted in the seat, calming himself down. His body was starting to get hot and his collar got tighter.

“Shhh,” she shushed him, a finger pressed against her own lips. Y/N approached him again and trailed one manicured finger from his arm to his hand. He shivered beneath her touch and his heart began to race. He felt his pulse in his stomach as she carded her fingers through his hair again, softer this time. She placed one knee on the chair between his thighs, pressing against his crotch. She tipped his head back with the edge of her nail beneath his jaw and leaned in close, exhaling beside his jaw. Seeing an opportunity, Agent Miller tried to kick her, jutting his knee up because it wasn’t restrained. She stopped him quickly, forcing him back into the chair, not missing a beat. His breath caught in his throat and he nearly choked on it. Her hand wrapped around his throat and squeezed but not harshly. His skin was warm beneath her hand and she smiled, her white teeth flashing.

She pressed her knee sharply into his thigh, holding his leg down, and slid it closer to the top of his crotch. She chuckled softly when she felt the outline of his cock inside his pants with the side of her thigh. Agent Miller’s body tensed below her, his hands folding into fists as he exhaled sharply.

“Aw does this hurt?” She cooed as she dug her knee further into the flesh of his thigh. His jaw tightened as she teased him. Moving closer, she rested both knees between his thighs, forcing them against the arms and pinning them in place. Suddenly she was so close and her thighs were pressing against his stomach…

How was it that he was getting an erection from this shit-show? How could she get this reaction out of him so fucking quickly? He tried to even out his breath as she shifted in the seat, her hands trailing up his chest to the knot of his tie.

“What did you drug me with?” Agent Miller muttered. Strands of her hair brushed against his cheeks.

“You don’t have to resist it, Agent Miller.” She ran her hands down his sides beneath his dark blue suit jacket. His body was full and firm, and warm. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” she whispered against his forehead.

“What did you put in my drink…” he repeated, his voice wavering in strength as her hand moved down his stomach to the front of his pants. His erection was pronounced and visible, pushing against the fly of his trousers. She must have given him something, something to get this response. He wasn’t even that turned on. He sighed, frustrated and mad. He turned his head to the side, avoiding her soft lips.

“You think I have to drug you to get this kind of response? Silly boy,” she slid off of his lap and sat on the edge of the couch in front of him. She crossed her legs at first and allowed her eyes to trail up his body like a man would to a woman. Agent Miller stared back, his blue eyes hard. She giggled and reached up her skirt, hooking her hands under her pantyhose and pulled it down her thighs. She rolled the pantyhose slowly down her calves and slipped it off her feet. Despite his best efforts, Agent Miller watched her closely, studying the way she pushed the pantyhose to the side with her foot.

“I prefer genuine responses, it helps with my ego,” she broke the silence and watched with a sly smile as Agent Miller swallowed. With a sigh she stood and leaned over the CIA agent, her hands gripped around the arm rests. “Are you embarrassed? The high and mighty CIA agent succumbing so quickly to someone like me?” She teased him sharply, a glint of malice behind her bright eyes. “Tell me, Agent Miller. You’re thinking about me… you want me to touch you more. You want to see what I could do to you.”

Agent Miller cocked his head slightly and sighed, pretending to be disinterested. Y/N grabbed his face, her fingers digging into either side of his jaw. When she kissed him, he exhaled, almost relieved. He kissed her back, forgetting himself and liking the way she tasted, the way her lips felt in his mouth. She pulled his face closer to hers, still hovering above him. She kissed him feverishly and he followed blindly, distracted by the pleasure found in each movement her lips made against his. Then as quickly as it had started, she pulled away and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Some of her lipstick was smudged across his mouth but he couldn’t tell. He was breathing heavily, his lips pulled apart so that he could catch his breath. She took a few steps back and grabbed a file from a nearby table. She flipped it open and turned the pages until she landed on the right one. She held the folder open in one hand and with the other she began to unbutton her blouse from the top down.

Agent Miller felt his cock throb as he watched her shrug off the silky blouse and drape it over the arm of the couch. When she turned he could see her black t-shirt bra fitted perfectly against her breasts. Her collarbones rose and fell as she breathed and Agent Miller nearly groaned. She read aloud from the file as she moved back to the chair.

“My records tell me that the last number of confirmed nuclear weapons in the American arsenal was 27,000. It’s been half a decade since that information was released to the Soviet Union. What is that number now?” She straddled his lap slowly, smoothing out her skirt over their legs. Agent Miller moved his eyes from her breasts to her face, trying to keep his face straight as he felt the woman’s hand unbuckle his belt.

“I can’t tell you that,” he managed as she played with the zipper of his fly, her fingers dancing over the hard bulge.

“Has the number grown?” She offered and slid her hand below his waistband. Her hand grazed the patch of his pubic hair before she reached his cock. He shivered and looked up at the ceiling of the hotel room. “More?” She asked softly as she wrapped her fingers around his erection, it was hot and wet in her hand. He was so sensitive already that he groaned softly when she touched him. She squeezed him softly and freed the hard length from his pants. She rubbed her hand up and down. Agent Miller panted softly as she masturbated him. His eyes snapped open and he watched her, their eyes locked.

“Has the number changed?” She asked again softly as the agent clenched his jaw.

“I can’t tell you that,” He fought the words out as her hand sped up.

“Are there less? Has the US been involved in a trade agreement for its nuclear weapons?” She pushed, her hand moving faster.

“Fuck…” Agent Miller panted as her grip tightened around him. His cheeks deepened with color and his chest shook as his climax built. Just as he felt like he was about to cum, Y/N pulled her hand away and clucked her tongue.

“You’re going to make this very hard on yourself,” she observed and smiled as she watched him pant. He was completely erect beneath her skirt, resting against her bare thigh. They stared at each other as he caught his breath. She snapped the folder closed and tossed it to the side, sighing impatiently.

“Who has the US traded with in the past year?” She asked, her hands holding his thighs down.

“That is public information. You don’t need me to tell you that.”

“I want you to tell me about the trade deals you haven’t made public,” she loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top two buttons. “Which countries have illegal trade agreements with the US?” She added before kissing his neck, sucking on the soft flesh until she started to make hickeys. With her freehand she held his cock still as she lowered herself onto his head. She moved her hips slowly up and down and pulled away to look at his face. His adam's apple quivered in his throat as she moved on top of him.

“I-I can’t-fuck,” he gasped softly as she started to shift her hips over his lap, taking him deeper, “I can’t tell you that.”

“Come on, Agent Miller,” she whispered against his ear, “be a good boy for me,” she smirked. “Does it feel good? Is this harder than torture?” She teased him as her hips sped up, rocking back and forth. Agent Miller moaned softly as she held his face to face her. His mouth was agape in pleasure as she began to bounce slightly, falling hard on his cock. He grunted as she went faster, moaning theatrically against his lips which she refused to kiss.

“Do you want to cum, Agent Miller?” She whispered against his lips, her tongue touching his bottom lip with a flourish.

“Fuck…” he panted again.

“Can you cum for me?” She purred and Agent Miller nodded weakly, his eyes now closed. She smiled and pretended to pant, coaxing another deep moan from the man’s throat. “Has the US been sending nuclear weapons to West Germany?” She asked, raising herself up and holding him inside her. He weakly tried to thrust but she held him down.

“Y/N…” he whispered, his brows furrowed in frustration.

She snapped her hips down, taking him in again and hugging his cock. He gasped as his stomach tightened. He was going to cum.

“Has the US been sending nuclear weapons to West Germany?” She repeated sternly, not moving on his cock as the wave of climax started to dissipate again.

“I can’t fucking tell you that-fuck,” he growled when she moved her hips very slowly.

“But you can tell me, Agent Miller, and if you do, I’ll let you cum,” she stroked his cheek and kissed his jaw feverishly. “I want you to cum. Fuck, I want you to cum inside me too.” She whispered against his neck. When he resisted saying anything she pulled herself off and backed away towards the bed in the room beside them. Agent Miller watched her, his chest rising and falling quickly. Still watching him, she slid her leather skirt off, showing that she had no underwear on underneath. He felt like he might explode just by the sight of her.

“Jesus…” he groaned and let his head fall back against the back of the chair. He couldn’t help himself but look back as she undid her bra and dropped it to the floor. Standing completely naked, she laid back on the bed and propped herself up on her elbows.

“If you won’t cum, I’ll just have to finish myself off,” she sighed and trailed her fingers up her thigh to her cunt, wet from sex. “It just never feels as good.” She rubbed her fingers over her clit over and over again until she felt an orgasm grow. She curled her toes and bit her lip, grinding against her own hand. Agent Miller knew that he could look away but the scene was just too much to ignore. He watched as she arched her back and twisted her hips, reacting to the sensitivity of her clit. Her eyes danced below her eyelids as she thought up fantasies to fuel her climax. Rubbing harder, she started to moan softly and quivered. Agent Miller pulled at the handcuffs, struggling to remain calm as he watched her touch herself. As her orgasm finally arrived, she collapsed back onto the mattress and caught her breath.

“Enough,” Agent Miller sneered from the chair, still erect and horny. “At least get me out of these so I can fuck you the right way.”

Y/N smiled and hopped off of the bed, her tits bouncing slightly as she did.

“You want to fuck me, Agent Miller?” She leaned close to his face again. He stared back at her, his jaw set.

“Let’s get it over with,” he answered nonchalantly and she tilted his jaw up but didn’t kiss him. She undid the handcuffs around his wrists and he sprang to his feet, grabbing at her body. He kissed her feverishly, lapping at her mouth with his tongue hungrily. She pushed off his suit jacket and unbuttoned his shirt as he slipped off his shoes and pants. They didn’t have time to remove his shirt before he entered her. He took hold of her hips to pull her closer and wrapped his arms around her back, pulling her close to his chest. She clawed her hands down his dress shirt, her knees high on either side of his waist. She moaned loudly and he studied the way she opened her mouth to do it, mesmerized by the way she reacted to him inside of her.

“Good boy,” she praised him when he sped up, hitting her G-spot. She reached her hand down between their bodies and rubbed at her clit, coaxing a stronger orgasm.

“Don’t touch yourself,” Agent Miller ordered, short of breath, “let me do it.” He massaged her clit himself, his large hands covering the front of her cunt. Her mouth fell open into a loud gasp as he synchronized his thrusts to the way he rubbed her clit.

“Fuck,” he exhaled tightly as he felt her flex around him.

“Keep going,” she wrapped her fingers around his neck and pulled him closer to her face, their mouths exchanging exhales, “fuck me right.”

He kissed her deeply as he moaned, the muscles in his back tightening beneath her nails. She was so tight and wet, he nearly came just thinking about it as he moved. She carded her fingers through his hair and pulled as he chased their peaking climax. He was grunting now as she began to finish around him, shaking without much control. He moved his hands back to her hips and rocked himself deep inside of her as he brought on his orgasm. He came inside of her with loud grunts, thrusting until he’d finished completely. Only when he was done did he pull out and collapse beside her on the elegant duvet. He panted loudly, exhausted. They remained in silence until Y/N rolled over, putting her lips close to his ear.

“You know, I didn’t have to ask you all those questions. I already know the answers.” Her voice was serious and cold, Agent Miller eyed her.

“Then why did you ask?”

“I wanted to see you tied down,” she answered calmly. He raised his eyebrow and scoffed just before the sting of a cold, sterilized needle pinched his neck. Then he quickly went to sleep.

When he awoke, he found himself alone in the hotel room. Everything had been returned to normal and the place scrubbed for fingerprints. And she was gone. She’d gotten away again.

#lenny miller #cillian murphy #cillian x fem!reader #fanfiction #cillian murphy x reader #cillian fanfic #cillian x y/n #cillian x reader #smut #Anna #agent miller #long reads #1980s #fem!reader

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wlntrsldler · 5 months ago

Text

poisoned mercury | smau: one year!

lukecastell4n posted a story!

one year with my five ⭐️

tagged yn_yln.

yn_yln replied to this story:

yn_yln: i love you so much

yn_yln: i miss you so much

lukecastell4n: im literally in the kitchen making u breakfast

lukecastell4n: i love you more btw

yn_yln: idc about the food come back to bed

lukecastell4n: dont tempt me i will burn the pancakes

yn_yln: i need a kiss

lukecastell4n: 🏃🏻🏃🏻🏃🏻🏃🏻 coming

yn_yln: san francisco, new york, boston, and anywhere else you might end up, i’ll be right there by your side. happy one year to us. you’re my favorite person.

im not good with words the way that you are, my poet, but i’ll give you a hundred kisses and a million more to show you how i feel about you.

i love you, pretty boy. here’s to one year and a hundred more.

tagged lukecastell4n.

lukecastell4n: you’re never getting rid of me 🙂‍↕️

yn_yln: i know 😕

travisstoll: LMFAOOOOO

connorstoll: simp 🫵🏼

lukecastell4n: the emoji????? HELLOOOOO????

lukecastell4n: i love you five star. ♾️

yn_yln: i love you more 🩷

chrisr0driguez: imagine JUST BARELY celebrating ur one year 🥱 clarisselarue couldn’t be us!

clarisselarue: tell em baby

yn_yln: OK SORRY I WAS SCARED OF MY FEELINGS FOR HIM

lukecastell4n: yn_yln awww you have feelings for me fr??? 🥹

yn_yln: lukecastell4n i want to break up.

pois0nedmercuryf4n: LOL HER COMMENTS??? i love yn.

iluveluk3: no literally the perfect balance of love and bullying LOLLLLLL

liked by yn_yln.

lukecastell4n: u guys are supposed to be on my side 😀

pois0nedmercuryf4n: lukecastell4n sorry we’re yn stans first!

liked by yn_yln and lukecastell4n.

🎵: glue song by beabadoobee

lukecastell4n: not to be annoying on the main but today is my one year with my favorite person in the world and i need to share it with everyone.

my muse, my love, my forever five star. we’ve been apart more than we’ve been together in person this year but i wouldn’t choose anyone or anything else over you, over us.

the distance is fine for now because we have the rest of forever to be with each other. i love you, five star.

p.s stop looking over my shoulder while i type this.

tagged yn_yln.

yn_yln: how dare you make me cry on our anniversary

yn_yln: you’re evil

yn_yln: fuck i love you so much

lukecastell4n: i love you more you dork stop crying

yn_yln: i just want to make it known that he’s also crying rn

chrisr0driguez: everyone point and laugh at lukecastell4n 🤣🫵🏼

travisstoll: lukecastell4n 🤣🫵🏼

connorstoll: lukecastell4n 🤣🤣🤣🫵🏼

travisstoll: mama y papa

p0isonedmercuryluvr: real

chrisr0driguez: rs, so happy for you bro 🩷 don’t let her go

chrisr0driguez: clar will kill u i think

lukecastell4n: clarisselarue dont worry clar i wouldn’t even dream of it

clarisselarue: good 🥰🔪

p0isonedmercuryfans: happy 1 year to lukecastell4n and yn_yln! thank you yn for giving us bf!luke 🙏🏽

tagged lukecastell4n and yn_yln.

yn_yln: thank u guys!!!! 🩷🩷🩷

liked by p0isonedmercuryfans.

lukeluvr: husband! luke when????

lukecastell4n: soon 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

yn_yln: lukecastell4n 🤨🤨

lukecastell4n: gods can’t a guy plan a proposal in peace???

yn_yln: THE TABLOIDS ARE GONNA GO CRAZY WITH THIS ONE

iluvpm: the way luke and yn are probably giggling writing these comments while they’re next to each other rn omg

chrisr0dfan: GOD WHEN IS IT MY TUUUURRRNNNN

pm4ever: no ur so right… sleeping on the highway tn

lukecastell4n: iluvpm u would be correct.

iluvpm: lukecastell4n ARIANA WHAT ARE U DOING HERE

#poisoned mercury #poisoned mercury chats #luke castellan fic #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan smau #luke castellan one shot #luke castellan series #percy jackson smau #pjo #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson #frances writes

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604to647 · 30 days ago

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Tiny Tim

A The Rockford Portfolio Christmas Special

5.2K/ Detective Tim Rockford x fem!reader

Summary: Tim takes you to the precinct Christmas party.

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI pls). Established relationship, soft!Tim, nicknames as usual (Shutterbug, baby, gorgeous). Semi public sex, fingering, unprotected PiV, thrill of being caught, alcohol consumption (reader is tipsy, but this is a devoted relationship with deep trust, not dubcon). Reader wears a dress. Bad 'A Christmas Carol' jokes.

A/N: This is a holiday love letter to all you lovelies who read The Rockford Portfolio 🥹🥹 Thank you thank you for all the love you’ve shown these two - they are one of my favourites to write, I'm always so encouraged by the sweet response I receive on their stories 🥹 This instalment is probably the only one I’ve written that makes more sense if you’ve read some of the others - there are a few callbacks, little winks for those of you who enjoy their stories 🤭 Thank you thank you again and happy holidays! 🎄

Now available: Fic companion Christmas carol 🎵 Detective, It’s Cold Outside 🎵

Dividers by @saradika-graphics / Series Masterlist

Tim watches the scene from across the bar.

It’s like a Renaissance fresco come to life, a modern-day depiction of royal court with you as the monarch at its centre - sitting up high, you’re perched on a barstool looking radiant and gorgeous in a pretty holiday dress that drapes off your curves and cascades over your legs; your feet dangle off the ground, swinging to and fro without a care. You’re surrounded by a crowd of cops who have arranged themselves in a semi-circle with you at their epicentre - those on your left and right stand or sit on their own stools, while the officers in front of you fan across a stretch of tables. Every person is angled towards you like a moth trying to fly closer to their flame, all eyes are trained, adoring and fawning, on your pretty face as you laugh and finish up what you were saying. They hang on your every word, and when you make eye contact or touch your hand to an arm in order to emphasize a point in your story, Tim swears the lucky recipient literally lights up a little.

Tim wonders if he should have told you that you’re kind of a celebrity at the precinct. No, not because he’s yours. Yes, it tickled his colleagues to no end that the gruff grizzly bear detective that was Timothy Rockford had been tamed by your gentle hand; they had seen evidence of his previously thought nonexistent softness and docility whenever you would visit. But he could never claim credit for the esteem in which you were beheld – your renown was all your own.

Even before tonight’s party, there had been a tittering among the various law enforcement departments that you would be in attendance. Those who had only seen you in passing or heard tales of how Detective Rockford’s lady love had provided much direct or indirect assistance to their cases, were eager to meet you. No sooner had the two of you entered the bar where tonight’s party was being held than you were swept out of Tim’s arms to make the acquaintance of what seemed like a never-ending queue of his colleagues. It’s been a while now since Tim lost track of you, sulking solitarily until his partner, Detective Arnold Calloway, came over with a conciliatory beer and pointed to where you’re currently holding court.

The team from Cipher, who had used your Graffiti Alley photos to decrypt the Pie Distribution playbook, are at your feet - ignoring the now lukewarm drinks on their tabletops in favour of trading quippy witticisms with you in between their rounds of raucous laughter at your jokes.

O’Brien and his team who had made up Surveillance Teams Alpha and Bravo the night you obtained information from Buchanan’s girlfriend in the restaurant bathroom that would lead to the apprehension of The Accountant, flank your left. Whenever you tilt your radiant face towards them, they take full advantage - commanding your attention so they can regale you with more detailed stories about the busts and raids that resulted from your intel.

Tech guys that used the meta data from your aquarium photos to track the movements of Grandma Ursula’s henchman, resulting in the retrieval of the missing briefcase that broke open the case, gather to your right – keeping a watchful eye on the cocktail glass you hold in your hand, prepared to replace it with a ready refill at a moment’s notice should you desire.

The head of Financial Crimes and a few of her analysts who run what has affectionately been named “Operation Spring Roll” (per your request), an intricate and far-reaching money laundering investigation kicked off by your keen observations at The Midnight Palace, slip in to occupy the empty seats next to their colleagues in Cipher, bringing appetizers and bowls of bar snacks as offerings.

Every single one of your admirers appears entranced by your charm and the warmth of your bright aura; convinced that you’re the wittiest, most intriguing person in this bar, they loathe to be torn away from your sweet face and the way it’s alight with genuine joy and holiday mirth. Tim is all too familiar with how they feel. He starts to make his way across the bar – individually or collectively, his coworkers have bogarted your attention all night and he’s had enough. He misses you.

Tim barely makes his presence known, arriving and stopping at the periphery of your audience where your eyes find him immediately, as if drawn to him.

Almost impossibly, your entire face lights up even more and you hold your arm out in his direction; with a hypnotic dance of your hand that’s part flirty wave, part sprinkling of fairy dust over your devotees, you beckon him, “Timmy!!!”

He sees a few cops mouth, smirking, “Timmy?!” and Chen from Cipher actually puts her hands together in prayer and says Thank You to a deity above for this gift with which Tim is sure he will be mercilessly teased later. But Tim doesn’t care. No matter how you call, he will always come.

Threading through the maze of chairs and bodies, he reaches you just as you step off the bottom rung of your stool – catching you easily right before you throw your arms around his neck.

“Hi Detective,” you coo, melodic voice a whisper against his lips.

“Hi Shutterbug,” Tim radiates a happiness that you feel as much as you can see - you’re finally back in his arms.

“Timmy. They all want to talk to me about police stuff, and I’m running out of things I know,” your silly tipsy face conveys some unwarranted trepidation, as if there was any chance in hell you could ever disappoint this group of smitten cops.

“You want to know how to make a bunch of cops scatter?” the twinkle of mischief in Tim’s eyes is mirrored back to him in yours as you nod, nuzzling your nose against his in conspiratorial agreement.

He kisses you.

And not in a tempered and chaste way one might expect at a work event, where superiors are in attendance and professionalism might be monitored even while off the clock.

But a full out, no holds barred, deep and passionate kiss that leaves Tim’s colleagues slack-jawed in shock, some even avert their gaze, embarrassed – as if they know they will have to staunchly deny having witnessed this side of their co-worker should they ever be interrogated about its existence. Tim’s mouth opens and wordlessly demands entry – you happily obey your detective’s directive. It’s truly beyond your understanding how anyone (you, these cops, anyone breathing) could ever deny Tim anything - his very being so commanding and reassuring that it only feels natural for you to surrender to him every time. Smoothing your tongue over Tim’s, you let him chase you to the furthest corners of your mouth; sighing when he catches you and licks behind your teeth in victory.

Though most of the onlookers have now left the two of you to your reunion, a few of Tim’s cheekier squad members remain. “Woooooooooooo!” the cheers from the surronding crowd are playful and jovial; there are a couple of whoop, whoops and arm pumps from some of the older detectives who were clearly Arsenio Hall fans.

“Alright, break it up, break it up,” Tim gruffs as you bury yourself into his chest, giggling. The remaining cops swiftly do as Tim says, going off in different directions – to order more drinks, out for a smoke, all eager to spread the lore about Detective Rockford’s kryptonite to their fellow jolly drunks, leaving you and Tim to stare dreamily into each other’s eyes in the middle of the bar.

Now that the two of you have a moment to yourselves, you can once again hear the bar’s music system that’s been blasting Christmas carols all night. Bing Crosby’s White Christmas comes over the speakers and you and Tim, still lost in one another, begin to slow dance – Tim presses his forehead to yours as he holds you close, finally letting himself relax now that his broad frame can once again melt and mold to the softness of your body.

Sighing in contentment, you lift your hands to run your gentle fingers through Tim’s rough facial scruff – a gesture that’s as soothing for him as it for you; it’s been great getting to know Tim’s colleagues and super entertaining listening to their stories and jokes, but this is where you’ll choose to be every time, “This has been so fun, Detective. I don’t know why you don’t like the precinct holiday parties.”

Tim closes his eyes and gives a little snort, “You try being named Tim at Christmas time around a bunch of drunk cops. The ‘Tiny Tim’ references usually start after the third round.”

You giggle, face now impish and eyes dancing with merriment, “Well, they just don’t know what Tiny Tim is capable of.”

Tim growls, grasp tightening around your waist, “…not that tiny.” Squealing, you crash your lips to Tim’s, delighting in your detective’s playful touch that’s now amorously roaming your backside. The two of you, lips never parting, sway over to a darker, less populated area of the bar – leaving Tim’s colleagues to their reveries.

“Ah, well, Detective Rockford, here’s the thing: I know for a fact that there is absolutely nothing tiny about Tiny Tim,” your hand trails down your boyfriend’s hard chest, smoothing over the front of his fancy dress pants to cup his bulge.

Tim jerks sharply to the sensation of your delicate fingers massaging his balls through the fabric; his voice lowers to a rumbled warning, “Shutterbug…”

“Mhhmmm?” you hum cheekily against Detective Rockford’s plush mouth.

“If you keep this up, I’m going to have to arrest myself for public indecency.”

Still drinking in the harmonious ring of your resulting laugh, Tim doesn’t see you subtly look around to see if there are any prying eyes trained on the two of you. When you find none, you hurriedly tug Tim down the hallway that leads to the restrooms; the bar has individual bathrooms instead of gendered ones, and you quickly find one that’s vacant, dragging Tim inside.

Tim looks surprised to find himself in the relatively well-lit bathroom, “Baby, what are…?”

His adorably naïve question is cut off when you push him up against the wall with surprising force from your soft hands. The party has been fun, but you were away from Tim for entirely too much of it.

Though you’re sure it wasn’t by design, nearly every captivating story you heard tonight has heralded your Tim as brave, clever, tough – never backing down in the face of particularly dangerous or puzzling elements of his cases; intimidating scumbag perps that deserved to get a little decency scared into them; displaying incredible feats of intelligence that left his colleagues amazed. Most of these stories you’ve actually heard before, but you learned tonight that Tim’s version often downplayed his own contributions and prowess – seeing your detective through the lens of his fellow law enforcement officers, hearing their accolades and seeing just how clearly they admire and respect your brilliant boyfriend has made you beam with pride.

And warm with arousal. Tim’s competency and humbleness are a one-two punch combination that never fails to turn you on, and by this point of the evening, you’ve heard a lot of stories evidencing both. You can’t wait any longer to have him.

“There, Detective. We’re not in public anymore,” you purr, scraping your kitten claws over the black cashmere of the sweater you gifted him, your hands meet in the middle of Tim’s expansive chest to give his smart, silk tie a sharp and quick tug; your cheeky move has absolutely no effect on the mountainous stance of man before you, and instead tips you into his space. Detective Rockford catches you with little effort, and when you see the smirk he throws your way, you drunkenly chuckle and allow to Tim descend on your lips once more. Sighing, completely enamoured with the handsome man before you, you throw your arms around his thick neck and give yourself over to Tim’s hungry kisses, matching his tongue stroke for stroke - whimpering as he nibbles and tugs on your plush bottom lip.

“Feeling needy, gorgeous?” Tim murmurs against your pout, hands gripping your ass in his heavy palms through the luxurious fabric of the dress that he’s been admiring on you all evening. You lean back and nod, giving him a coquettish, doe-eyed look, “Needed you all night, Timmy. Felt like I haven’t seen you at all, but I love how everyone’s been telling me stories about how brilliant and vital you are. All I’ve wanted to do is show you that I feel the same way.”

“Oh, baby, I’ve missed you too,” groans Tim as you claw your nails down his sweater, pressing hard through to the crisp dress shirt underneath – the way both garments stretched taut across his broad frame has you licking your lips; you start lowering to your knees, eyes already trailing to where Tim’s impressive cock is straining valiantly against his dress pants.

To your surprise, Tim’s hands slip under your arms and lift you back up – you whine at being denied his cock in your mouth, but the sweetness of his expression makes it impossible to be mad, “Don’t want you to get that pretty dress dirty on the floor, gorgeous.” Tim’s thoughtfulness combined with the firm way he maneuvers your body towards the bathroom sink has you positively gushing, any disappointment disappearing.

Standing behind you so that you’re both watching Tim’s bear paw hands snake up your chest, your detective gropes your breasts over the front of your dress and listens as you sigh and whinny; you slump back against your tank of a man, perfectly content to let him have his way with your body.

Still palming full fistfuls of your boobs, Tim’s long fingers reach up to pull down the neckline of your dress so that your tits come spilling out, eager to greet his hands. His mouth finds the sweet spot of your neck that he claimed as his long ago, and you watch him continue to paw and knead your breasts, finding your already peaked nipples with ease. Rolling, pinching, teasing your hardened buds between the rough pads of his fingers, Tim murmurs against your skin, “We gotta be quick and quiet - can you do that for me, Shutterbug?”

You meet the dark gaze of your boyfriend in the mirror and nod feebly; the reminder that you’re at a party full of cops, cops that work day in and day out with the fromidable man behind you who looks like he wants nothing more than to devour you, has you clenching pathetically around nothing.

Nothing escapes the eagle eyes of your detective – he responds to your desperation with a final squeeze of your tits before raking his monster hands, hard and gripping, down your willing body; frantically rucking up the skirt of your dress and bunching the festive fabric above your ass.

The sound of Tim’s belt buckle clicking open has you arching your back, ass wiggling and eyes closing in giddy anticipation.

Smack.

You yelp in delight at the bright sting blooming on your ass cheek from Tim’s open palm. He chuckles as he pulls your lace panties to the side, “Keep your eyes on the mirror, baby.”

The goofily grinning and sassy-eyed you in the mirror chirps, “Yes, Detective!” about to give him a cheeky salute when you’re rendered witless, dissolving into a puddle of lust at the feel of Tim’s thick fingers gliding through your folds.

He doesn’t tease you for long - finding you already wet and willing, Tim easily slides two of his fingers into your sopping hole; he bites down at the base of your neck and you keen as your boyfriend’s long reaching touch grazes your softest, most intimate parts.

Your reflection unravels and whimpers, “Pl-, please, Tim!”

Detective Rockford’s obsidian gaze meets yours in the glass and he acquiesces to the request you can’t quite vocalize with a quickening of his thrusts; the slap, slap, slap of his palm meeting your desire drenched pussy echoes off the walls of the small bar bathroom like the beat of a naughty Christmas carol.

Spurred on by the buzz of tonight’s alcohol and the titillating knowledge that Tim’s colleagues are only a short hallway away on the other side of the bathroom door, and that any or all of them could hear you or even come knocking the next moment, you start to crest shamefully quick. His knowledge of your body’s pleasure so familiar and intimate, Tim recognizes the fluttering of your walls and swiftly adds a third finger. You cry out, one hand flying up to muffle the sound as you press back against your detective’s hard chest; the other Tim cradles in his free paw and slips up your skirt and down the front of your panties, big hand over yours - using your lithe fingers like a quill to scrawl his command to your clit.

“Come for me.” Tim’s baritone growl is the last thing you hear before the air in the room rushes past your ears and you shudder at the silence that seemingly rings; biting down on your own hand, tears spring to your eyes at the sting of pain and the force of the orgasm that hits you.

You barely register as Tim’s fingers slow through your come down, withdrawing and finding their way to his mouth. The you in the mirror hazily watches as he sucks his fingers clean with a wicked grin, winking at you before nibbling playfully at your earlobe, “Taste so sweet, Shutterbug.”

Giggling, you pull your detective’s face down to yours for a tender but desperate kiss, your cunt already feeling empty and needy. Tim returns your affections ten-fold, hands frantically pushing down his pants and boxers, releasing his hard and thrumming cock with a slap against the smooth dip of your lower back. You whine pitifully, shimmying in Tim’s tight hold and pushing back to try and angle his dick down to where you need him; he chuckles darkly in your ear and grumbles, “Brace yourself, baby.” You place both hands firmly on the ledge of the sink counter and exhale shakily when you feel Tim wick the head of his cock through your slick, gripping hard as he firmly pushes in.

Tim’s eyes never leave your lust blown ones in the mirror. He sets a purposeful and delicious rhythm - pulling out nearly all the way so that you pout, letting you yearn for the loss of his stretch for a moment too long before slamming back in with a heavy drive of his hips and bottoming out each time with an aggressive snarl. He does this over and over and over, his punishing pace never wavering; your eyes start to roll and your bottom lip starts to smart from how hard you’re biting down to keep from screaming.

“Maybe we should let them hear, baby.”

“Let everyone in this bar know who you belong to.”

“They kept you all to themselves tonight – need to remind them that you’re mine.”

Tim punctuates each of his possessive words with a particularly harsh thrust, jolting you hard against the counter.

“Tim!” Your arms fly up to wrap behind his neck, and the reflected vision of you being bounced on Detective Tim Rockford’s hard cock with your supple tits tumbling whorishly out of your party dress, sends the both of you rocketing towards a dual high.

“You’re fucking perfect, Shutterbug.”

“No wonder they all want a piece of you.”

“But they can’t have you.”

“You’re mine, baby.”

“Mine.”

“Yours, yours, yours,” your breathy declaration sung to the chorus of your orgasm, Tim comes shortly after to the tight squeeze of your warm walls claiming him as yours.

“I love you, Detective.”

“I love you more, Shutterbug.”

The two of you stay at the party for just one more round of drinks; Tim’s arm never leaves your waist, tucking your body securely against his. As far as he’s concerned, his colleagues have monopolized enough of your time this evening, you’re all his now; you can’t help but enjoy Tim’s harmless display of possessiveness when his fellow officers swarm and try to engage you as they did before.

Perhaps in retaliation, the Tiny Tim jokes start coming in rapid succession:

“Tim, are you feeling tired? Is it hard to stand? Do we to find you a wittle crutch?”

“Isn’t it past Tiny Tim’s bedtime? He’s just a little guy.”

“Leaving already? Bah humbug!”

“Should we be calling Bob Cratchit? Does Tiny Tim need a lift?”

“No, don’t go, Rockford! Who’s going have god bless us, every one??!”

You can’t help but laugh at that last one as you and Tim sweep out of the bar; Tim raising his hand and flipping the bird to his friends without ever looking back.

The December air outside feels crisp and pleasant against your skin, still warm from tonight’s drinks and the crowded party. By some coincidence, the bar is in the same neighbourhood as the restaurant where Tim took you on your third first date, and much like that night, you and Tim opt to take the twenty-or-so minute walk home. Though the fresh air sobers you, you remain cheerful and giddy from tonight’s festivities and a general sense of seasonal merriment – his hand never leaving yours, an amused Tim lets you happily swing your arms as you walk, occasionally giving you a twirl on the sidewalk and smiling widely as you duck under his beefy arm and spin so that the skirt of your dress fans out with a dancer like grace. Chirping cheerfully, you fill Tim in on all the courageous and funny stories his colleagues shared with you tonight and delight in the way his face reddens in embarrassment.

“I’m so lucky, Tim! I get to call the biggest, baddest, smartest detective on the squad as my own. And I also know him to be so sweet, and kind, and funny. I’m truly the luckiest girl in the world,” your words and eyes are genuine, all adoring.

Tim can’t help but grin dopily back. He takes off his tan trench coat to drape over your shoulders and accepts your quick, sweet peck of gratitude before countering, “I’m the lucky one, Shutterbug. It was clear to every single person in the bar tonight that you’re a star, everyone’s dream – and you choose me. I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

Your chest swells with affection for your tender-hearted boyfriend – Tim never fails to make you feel cherished, supported and loved, and of course, always so very safe and protected. You’re sure that if the people of the city knew even half of what you know about how deeply Tim cares and takes seriously his charge of their protection, they would all be as in love with him as you are. It’s no wonder that you had felt that initial spark with him when he was just diligently doing his duty all those many moons ago at the aquarium – he had been so earnest and dedicated to the job, you’re convinced you fell in love with him on the spot, “We’re both so lucky that you’re who I ended up interviewing with at the aquarium during the Grandma Ursula case.”

“It wasn’t all luck, Shutterbug,” Tim flashes a shit eating grin.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, that day at the aquarium, MacMillan and I were both interviewing potential witnesses. And when we got down to the final few interviews, I bribed him to let me question you.”

You’re absolutely shocked and delighted by this revelation, “Detective Rockford!! You’re diabolical! What did the favour of my company cost you?”

“I had to transcribe all of MacMillan’s interview notes from that day… and for the following month. Plus, he made me drive all the way to a deli across town to pick up his favourite sandwich.”

“Omigod,” you giggle, “And?”

“Hmmm?”

“Was it worth it?”

“The sandwich? I did get myself one - it was pretty delicious.”

You swat playfully at Tim’s chest, “No, silly. Not the sandwich – what you transcribed all those notes for.”

“Absolutely. Changed my life for the better. You're priceless, baby.”

“Oh Tim,” you sigh at your detective’s romantic words. The truth is you’re absolutely gobsmacked that Tim went through all that effort for you when he didn’t even know you; knowing what you do now about Tim’s instinct and how often the success of his cases rest on its sharp edge, it makes your heart sing that he had had a feeling, saw something in you worth pursuing. You tell him as much.

“I’ve been grateful for you since the moment I saw you, Shutterbug,” says Tim sincerely, “When you were in that waiting area, patiently letting the families and field trips go ahead of you, I knew I was in the presence of genuine grace and kindness. I- I don’t run across that very often in my line of work – you’re so special, baby. I was having such a shit day and you were an unexpected beacon of light. I think, selfishly, I couldn’t let you go without basking a little longer in your warmth.”

Tears spring to your eyes so quickly that you have to turn away from Tim to hide how emotional his confession has made you. You had felt such a strong connection to him that day as well – Tim had been so sweet and patient, encouraging in his words for your photography when he had no reason to be; your gratitude had only been compounded when you bore witness to the enthusiasm and commitment Tim held for his policework. And since the day of the Grandma Ursula case verdict, your feelings of admiration and awe for this strong, honourable man have only grown.

You tug Tim along the twinkle lights illuminated path, still unable to look at him while admitting these sentiments, “When we didn’t talk at all during those seven months of the Grandma Ursula case, I thought maybe I had made you up – it didn’t seem possible to have properly gauged the measure of a man so smart, kind, and honourable from just the few times we interacted. But Tim, you exceed even my wildest fantasies with how steadfast, loving, respectful, caring you are to me everyday. You’re the man of my dreams.”

If you were hoping to avoid getting overwhelmed by your feelings, thinking about how much you love your detective and all the reasons you can’t live without him has certainly not been the way to do it. Swimming in your own happiness, you brush away your tears with the sleeve of Tim’s jacket and quicken your pace, your footsteps timed to the thundering beat of your very full heart.

You walk so quickly that your hand slips from Tim’s and in your surprise at the loss of his warm, comforting grip, you turn around – the sight that greets you leaves you stunned. Both hands flying up to cover your mouth, now dropped opened in a placid ‘o’ shape, you’re unable to contain the loud gasp that escapes.

Tim is still where he was when you inadvertently let go of his hand, but now down on one knee – in his upturned palm he holds an open ring box, his rich brown eyes swirling with a storm of deep emotion, love.

You walk the few steps back to Tim in silence, teary eyes crinkling from a smile that you can’t quite hide behind your hands. Your barely concealed joy makes Tim’s heart soar and calms his nerves somewhat.

When you finally stand before him, Timothy Rockford, first line attack dog of the LAPD Detective Squad, scourge of the city’s hardened criminals, and certified grump who hates all holidays and holiday parties, melts in front of the woman he loves. He looks up into the eyes of his personal goddess, the one who makes it safe for him to reveal his soft underbelly, nourishes him and has his back in every way that matters on this mortal plane he had long resigned to walking alone before meeting her, and asks the most important question he’s ever had to pose, inside or outside of an interrogation room.

“Shutterbug, when we met, I couldn’t have fathomed how much better my life was going to get with you in it. You’re the embodiment of all the goodness that for a very long time I was convinced existed in too short supply in this world. But not with you, baby – you’re generous and open, and the sweetness and compassion you extend to me and everyone around you feels never-ending. You give me so much, but the most important is something I didn’t even know I was missing: a home. You’re my home, Shutterbug. A home full of love and softness. I- I never knew that could be in the cards for me, or that anyone like you existed, never mind that you would choose me. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you, but if you allow me, I want to spend the rest of our lives coming home and loving you.”

You’re nodding now, happy tears overflowing.

Tears now rolling down his own face, Tim chokes out, “Will you marry me?”

“Yes, yes, Tim! I’ll marry you!!” You cry, launching yourself into Detective Rockford’s arms, practically knocking him and the ring box to the ground.

Wrapping his arms tight around his little slice of heaven, Tim helps you both stand; pulling back only so he can slip the diamond ring that he had so long ago bought and hid in the back of his sock drawer, waiting for the right time (a time that wouldn’t be too soon), on your ring finger. You admire the beauty of this bright flawless thing, an actual physical embodiment of Tim’s love – still in shock that something, someone, could be so exquisite and yours. Thankful and humbled before its, his, grace, you place your hands on both sides of your fiancé’s handsome face as he brings his careful paws up to yours and you meet for a long, perfect kiss.

Still feeling like you’re in a dream, you start heading home - alternating between walking while holding out your left hand and admiring it in a daze, and looking back at Tim’s blinding smile, stopping to kiss him again when you see the look of devotion and awe that he radiates back at you. This continues for several blocks until, giddy and blissful, you suddenly notice the slow licking flames of want that have been keeping you warm on this chilly December walk – immediately, you start pulling Tim towards your shared destination with renewed urgency.

“What’s the hurry, Shutterbug?” laughs Tim.

“Want to get home, Detective,” you giggle, “so I can ride my new fiancé until we both come so loud the neighbours complain."

At this, Tim quickens his pace, long legs taking strong purposeful strides - one for every two of yours; his eagerness and boyish grin making you laugh, “Then tomorrow, after we celebrate some more on every surface of the apartment, I want you to take me to that deli across town and I’m going to buy MacMillan a ‘thank you’ sandwich myself.”

You squeal in laughter as Detective Tim Rockford breaks into a full out jog, practically carrying you, his Shutterbug, love of his life, raison d’etre – fiancé, wife-to-be, the future Mrs. Rockford (Oh, he likes the sound of that!), all the way home.

A/N 2: We time hop a lot in this series, a lot of the stories not necessarily happening in the order they're written/posted and I don't think it matters much - but for those that are wondering, a little note on timing. This story can be considered the most recent in the timeline of Timmy and Shutterbug's relationship; I consider it to take place a good while after Sniffles (when they move in together). Sniffles I imagine to take place 3-4 months after Husband Material, and before the Sleepy Trilogy. I'm not terribly committed to when the others slot in, but I always think of Dance for Me as also taking place when they're already living together.

Thank you again for reading and happy holidays - god (nondenominational) bless you, every one 🥹🥹😘

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