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highpony-betty · 2 years ago

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Finals: Noah and Betty

Shared Class: Switch

@noah-andrews

Noah was nervous. There was no doubt about it, but it had to be done and he really did trust Betty. He just had to remember his breathing and his visualization. He was cleaning her place as a way to show his appreciation not as a submission. That was the visualization, but in real life he had to make it seem like he was and it already had his stomach in knots. He kept thinking he was going to have to actually repay her for all of this including dealing with his messed up self.

Betty wasn’t sure if she hoped Noah would kneel at the door when he got there like everyone else would. It would be nice, but at the same time it would put him on the defensive right from the get go. “Thanks for coming. Im not good at cleaning without getting obsessive. Hopefully I can learn from you.”

As Noah followed after Betty too late realizing that people knelt when they were submitting. It was like the friggin' bat signal or something. The starting position everyone used. So he'd already messed up. "Ummm yeah, yeah this is way cleaner than my place, but I definitely learned a lot of cool tricks in class." He hoped that in the end he could actually offer her something of real substance. He was about to just jump right in, but remembered if he was doing the submissive thing he wasn't supposed to jump into anything. Wait, Noah. Wait for instructions, he told himself. Instructions aren't bad. They're not D/s. They're just instructions. Instructions don't necessarily have to be orders.

Betty waited quietly until it looked like Noah’s gears in his mind were slowing up or had at least settled on one thought. “Let’s start with just dusting like..” She looked around quickly. “Everything!”

Noah looked around and noticed that there was definitely some serious dust going on. He grinned. "Yeah, umm, the home ec teacher talked about a process for dealing with dust. Some of it is like useful and shit, but some of it doesn't work for me. I like keeping the windows open and these places all of carpeting so there's not much we can do about that." He looked around. "But one of the biggest tricks that I never knew is that you gotta damp mop and dust. If you don't you just move the dust around. So ahhh... where's your cleaning stuff."

“That..sounds like something I should know,” Betty admitted. She’d probably zoned out in class. Dusting was a hard subject to pay attention to. “Under the sink, you can grab them.”

"Not sure 'should' is the right word," he said with a laugh, considering she had information and skills that were definitely should kind of things... life-saving kind of things. He headed to the kitchen before suddenly stopping in his tracks. At first his breathing kicked up, knowing what he was supposed to do, but he did the diaphragm trick and turned and added one more word to his sentence. "Miss." He turned so quickly he practically did a pirouette and raced to grab the cleaning things.

Betty hadn’t exactly expected to be titled, but she was hoping to hear it and was happy it came here at the beginning. She gave a hint of a smile, which she knew he didn’t see. “Thank you!” She went and sat down on tje couch for a few minutes, doing the hardest crossword puzzle in the newspaper- purposely, so she knew she’d hit a break. When she die hit two that she didn’t know, she went to check on Noah.

It was easy enough to just focus on the dusting and cleaning as long as he thought of it as a job that needed to be done because it just needed to be done, not because he was being ordered to and was submitting. He could lose himself in the 'work' of it. This was the first time he was trying that damp mop and dust thing he'd learned in class and it really did work better. Instead of things flying around and settling back down where he'd just dusted they stuck to the cloth. "Fuck yeah," he muttered to himself when he looked around the whole bedroom seeing it was dust free. He saw Betty out of the corner of his eye and tensed. Was he supposed to kneel or something like that?

“Sounds like it’s going well,” Betty chuckled when she came up behind him. If this weren’t an exam, she would push him to kneel, to see if he could do it. But here, if she didn’t make a big deal, it wouldn’t be seen as a big deal. She looked at his work and was pleased with what he’d done. She didn’t look too closely so as not to obsess about it, but it looked good. “Now if we could please teach me a quick way to do dishes, that would be appreciated.”

He could feel a moment where there was something he was supposed to do. Probably that kneeling thing. But even if that was it, he'd already taken too long and even thinking about it had his heart racing. "Umm... ahhh, yeah, yeah... I know some tricks about that too. Did you know that you're not actually supposed to rinse the dishes too much before you put it in the dishwasher. If they are too clean the dishwasher soap and the water shoots out, you can scratch and fuck up your dishes and stuff." He looked in the sink and kind of wanted to laugh. There were barely any dishes to wash. "Or do you want me to wash by hand. There ain't much. I got some water saving tips for that."

“The washer is dirty,” she explained. “I haven’t run it because it’s not full. I was working for a week straight on top of classes and things got piled up so I had to tidy things yesterday.” The place could be messy beyond belief during bouts of hard work and she wouldn’t notice; but the second she would have down time, she’d see the mess and had to immediately fix it. “So I guess you can show me tricks for both.”

"Oh yeah. Cool. I never used to really use the dishwasher." He laughed. That might have been because I was an animal who hardly ever like cooked or did anything like that at home. Cup o' noodles don't need no dishes, am I right?" He was still eating way more cup o' noodles than could possibly be healthy. It was cheap though and he wasn't going to be getting a job until he got to level three so dollar store food was the way to go. "But I'm trying to use it more because it's more environmental and shit." He started going through everything that he'd learned in class from how to scrub dishes in groups and then rinse altogether to save water to the most efficient way to load a dishwasher. If he avoided the way the teacher had told them being a good housekeeper was the duty of every submissive so that they could serve their dominant and all that, it was actually kind of fun. But as soon as he was done he looked over at her and kind of lost the plot. Was he supposed to kneel or wait to be ordered to something or fucking what. His heart rate jumped up. He didn't want to kneel and he didn't want to be ordered around, but he was supposed to want that or fuck at least not freak out at the thought of it. He wasn't aware that he was standing there hyperventilating and squeezing a sponge in his hand and letting it drip all over the floor.

Betty was proud of Noah for being so focused and vigilant in the scene, telling her everything there was to know about dishes. She hadn’t realized there was so much. She was drying a plate when she heard the water being squeezed onto the floor. “Noah,” she said cautiously. “Get out of your head, please.” Her voice was even, not pleading him or yelling at him- just being steady and firm. “We’re just washing dishes. You’re not in danger.”

You're not in danger. The words rang in his head. He wasn't there wasn't anything dangerous here. Of course there wasn't. They were just washing dishes. But why was he breathing like this than. There must be something wrong because he couldn't breath right. He didn't move, but he blinked and nodded his head anyway though, trying to play along. "I... I don't know what I'm supposed to do now."

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” Betty made clear. “We finished one thing. We’ll move to another. I really need my place clean now that I won’t be too busy to notice; and I’d just rather not do alone.”

Noah nodded, trying to do that breathing thing she'd taught him. "Yeah, yeah.. sorry. Don't know why I'm freaking out." He looked around. "You know I don't mind coming over and straightening up a little. I really owe you for everything you've ummm helped me with." He felt a little more in control though he knew deep down that there were a lot of 'submissive' things he was supposed to be doing and a lot of 'dominant' things she probably wanted to be doing. But she wasn't forcing anything. He owed her for that if nothing else. "What's next?"

“How about you vacuum while I make the bed and then straighten up my desks?” She had three small desks in her spare room, and all of them were atrocious. She wished the serial killers would be made to come and clean up their own chaos. “Let me know if you start feeling..whatever again. What kind of music do you like?”

"Should you be doing any of this? Like isn't that kind of against the rules or something?" He nodded though and got to work. "Yeah, yeah. I will. Sorry. I won't let it happen again." Jazz is good. Ahmad Jamal, Charlie Parker, Thelonious Monk... but honestly pretty much anything. All music is good music in my head." He vacuumed the carpet in the cross over pattern they'd learned in class though he still didn't buy that it was any different than any other way. He knew he wasn't doing the submitting part of this even close to right though so he ought to at least do the cleaning part right. Speaking of... he hadn't used a title in a really long time. He probably should do that right? He swallowed and stopped the vacuum to call out. "Thanks ahhhh Miss." He distracted himself from the squirming in his stomach by winding up the vacuum cord and putting it away. He went to start on the desks and pulled up short seeing some rather graphic photographs out on one of them. "Woah."

“I can pretty much do whatever I want as long Im not irresponsible, so yes, I can.” She didn’t say it in so many words, but she was in charge of the scene. She knew it could go wrong, but she was pretty determined not to let that happen. Hopefully. “That’s why I said I’d tidy up the desks,” she pointed out, placing the photos into a folder. “This stuff is copies of evidence, so you can’t see it. And killing you during an exam would get me expelled which isn’t a scenario I care for,” she joked with a grin.

"S...sorry. I thought you wanted me to do it. Sorry. Shit... Sorry you have to look at that stuff." He gulped buy drew his eyes up to hers. "Ummm yeah killing would be totally bad so maybe let's not do that."

“I don’t look at those much. I just had to for a minute to get a detail right for my write-up. I mostly look at psych profiles and codes these days.” She looked around and found a paper that had a grid of small squares on it, some of them white, otheres seemingly random splashings of other colors. “That’s not classified,” she said, handing it to him. “Took me three hours to figure out. Luckily I got better at it.” She nodded to a stack of papers just like it, but all in different patterns. Or..really different lack of obvious patterns. “Each had it’s own decoder to figure out.” She put them all into a folder which she dropped into a large shipping envelope to send back to the FBI so she wouldn’t be responsible for it any longer.

He looked at the chart, but honestly he couldn't make any sense of it at all. He was definitely sure that her brain was on a completely different level than his. Probably than almost anyone's. It was cool though. "Well, that's some big brain shit for sure. Did figuring that stuff out save lives?"

“Saved mine,” she chuckled. “And saving mine saved others, so technically it saved six lives.” The first desk was easy to clear off: it was all photos and official documents. The second was easy too: all codes. The third was..well chaotic. Coffee stains, random papers, about 30 crumpled up papers, magazines, magnifying tools, an old-fashioned decoder ring that hadn’t actually helped her, and plenty more random things. “Okay this one’s gonna be annoying.”

"Cool," Noah said with the kind of awe that only a teenager could muster. As cynical as a teenager could be, they were also capable of genuine awe. "What can I do? Is there anything here that can just get trashed or cleaned. Like I could go get stuff to wipe up the coffee stains?"

“Thank you,” Betty laughed. She often got used to her work and would forget how cool it was. “Yeah, that’d be good. And the magazines can be thrown out. And the crumpled papers can be thrown out.”

Noah nodded and gathered up the magazines and the crumbled papers. His arms were pretty full by the time he'd gotten everything off of the desk. Luckily he didn't drop everything on the floor before he got to the garbage can, but it was a close thing. He found some disinfecting wipes under the sink and figured that might be a good choice for the coffee stains. He had no idea how long they'd been there.

“Only like three days,” Betty said, reading his mind. “Actually..okay maybe a week. Or two. Not more than three. I think.” She wasn’t exactly sure how far into her work hustle the coffees on her desk had finally gotten too numerous and two had spilled. She managed to get the other things put away, or at least out of the open. “Fuck yeah,” she mumbled as she sealed the big envelope and labeled it, glad to be done with it. The case had been personal- with an old rival of hers- and even now he was behind bars waiting for his trial, plotting his next four chess moves.

Noah narrowed his eyes at her. "How did you know what I was thinking?" He also looked at the coffee stains with a little bit more alarm. Eventually he shrugged and just scrubbed them up off the desk. It already looked so much better. As he worked he looked over at Betty as she stuffed a few more things into the big envelope and laughed as she declared victory in a way he would have. "Fuck yeah," he agreed. "Fuck them bad guys."

“Order of tasks. The desk was clear, so the coffee stains are next. And they look pretty old,” she explained her thinking. She was trying to stay up to task with his thinking, so she could prevent anything bad from coming up. “Bad guys suck,” she agreed. Hopefully this particular one never got fucked again for the rest of his life. Sex was too good for him to get to take part in it. “Alright, what do you think we should do next?”

"Oh.. umm yeah, that makes sense. It's like psychology and shit." Noah looked around. "Well, how do you feel about me cleaning your bathroom?" He knew that for some people the bathroom was a private place.

“Yeah, that works,” she nodded, about to go find something to do herself when her cell phone rang. She looked at the call screen and answered it while rolling her eyes. “No and no some more,” was her greeting which she quickly amended. “Guess that was rude. What I meant to say was no and no some more, Sir” She pulled the phone away from her mouth, but made sure the person on the other end could hear her as she spoke to Noah. “This loser wants me to take on another case while I’m a student and unable to come and shoot people. I’m not a fan of the cases where I have no chance of shooting the bad guy.” She didn’t shoot people often; but not getting to lie at night for a bit thinking about the possibility of shooting the damn bastards didn’t help her sanity.

He nodded and grabbed what he'd need for the bathroom. He was just rounding the corner when he heard her talking into the phone, but directing her words partially to him too. He bust out laughing. "Doesn't seem fair," he agreed.

“Doesn’t seem fair, Ryan,” she repeated his words into the phone. “I have a hard time believing other people can’t figure out the psychopaths. Give me a drug dealer or-“ He cut her off to tell her what she already knew: she wasn’t available to work undercover, so drug busts couldn’t happen. “Fine but I have a rule that only three psychos who want me dead can be alive at a time so no assigning me more until one of the current ones dies.” She rolled her eyes again, and took her call into the other room, wanting to get out of earshot of Noah before telling her boss that she was doing an exam. There was no need to remind Noah of that fact.

It was weird to listen to her. Not because she was being so dang badass. Not because she was talking about psychopaths and drug dealers. It was just weird that she was here. She was bigger than all of this. He knew that she was here for her sister though and that did make sense. She was a hero. He watched her head to the other room and figured she was about to talk about super secret stuff. He focused on cleaning the bathroom and not the reason why he was cleaning the bathroom. Betty had been a superstar. She had made the whole thing as far from a scene as it could be. He started to feel tight in his chest, but really didn't want to fuck up again.

“Just text me the info and I’ll tell you no later,” she told her team leader before hanging up. They both knew she wouldn’t actually say no. Well, she knew that anyway. But her team knee not to put anything past her. She was wondering now if she should push Noah more or not. She wanted to make sure they’d get credit for the scene. He’d titled her a couple times, but they both knew there was something else: kneeling. Hopefully she could get around the formality of it. While he was on his knees on the floor cleaning anyway, she walked into the bathroom and spoke to him from her position standing up. “How’s it going?”

Noah looked up at her. "Ummm... I'm done I think." He rocked on the outside of his heels and chewed on his lip. "This... Umm all of this," He gestured around himself indicating the cleaning or the scene, who knows. “Isn't like enough to pass the final is it?"

“It depends how technical they want to get,” she sighed. “If what’s going on right now is considered kneeling, it should meet bare minimum. I checked the class’s syllabus. But it’s not 101, so if we could think of some way to show dynamics, it would help because we picked a mark class.” She shrugged as she thought for a while. “Any chance you like denial? Cuz that would show sexual submission which could work.”

Noah felt panic bubbling up. But fuck he needed to do this shit. He needed to not be a dumb freak. "Ummm, sure, maybe...." It might have been a bit more convincing if he wasn't shaking his head no while speaking.

“Okay, so no to that,” she bit her lip. “I think we’ve maybe done enough,” she said thinking out loud. “You did cleaning, you titled me, you’re on hour knees..” she shrugged. “Im not sure that there’s anything else we have to do. So..I guess it’s aftercare time. Can I treat you to a coffee or something?”

He felt foolish as his lip began to tremble like some dumb little kid. He was glad it was over, but he knew he'd fucked up. What if they failed or worse. What if he got her in trouble or something because he'd fucked it up. He ducked his head hoping he couldn't see him crying.

“What kind of movies do you like?” There really wasn’t any use in pretending to be blind, but she didn’t have to call it out or make it a big deal. He wasn’t in current distress- he just felt bad. Probably.

He wiped at his eyes and nose, knowing there was no way she hadn't already seen. "Umm, anything. Old movie maybe? Singing in the Rain?" It was an old comfort movie. You could lose yourself in it and forget your troubles. "I'm sorry." He truly was. She had been nothing but understanding and helpful and he'd repaid her by being a total basket case. As if she didn't get enough of that in her work.

“Oh that has the dancer guy, right?” She hadn’t seen the movie, but she had heard of it. “We both did our best,” she told him. “And Im not disappointed, by the way. This coulda gone really wrong, so Im glad it didn’t.”

He sniffled and nodded. "Gene Kelly, yeah." He nodded again. "I really did try." Hearing that she wasn't disappointed was a freakin' relief. She'd gone to a lot of trouble for this and he didn't want this to all be a waste of time. He didn't dare ask her if she thought they'd pass though.

#finals #exams #events #para: finals noah #para: noah #paras

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simpforrooster · 2 years ago

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the princess and the hangman pt. 2

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x f!reader

part two of the princess and the hangman! catch part 1 here.

you and hangman have a plan to keep your true feelings from the gang, but will it work?

“So we obviously can't tell the guys about this, right?” Jake asks, pulling you against his chest. His hand rests against your hip, igniting your skin.

You can't believe just 12 hours ago, the two of you were at each other's throats, and now you're laying next to the man.

He definitely rocked your world. Not that you are going to admit it to him.

“No, we can’t,” you agree. “Can you imagine all the inflated egos, and ‘I told you so’s’?”

You roll over in his arms, taking in those green eyes. Jake stares down his nose at you. Leaning down, he places a sweet kiss on your lips.

“What are we going to do?” you ask him between kisses.

Jake shrugs, rolling you over. As he holds his weight over you, he attacks your neck with those intoxicating kisses.

“I’d like to do you,” he whispers your ear.

“Come on, Hangman, we need a plan.” Ignoring the way the innuendo makes your stomach flip.

Jake gives in, rolling back to his side of the bed. “I don't know what I like more, you calling me Hangman, or Jake.” He props his head up on his hand and grins at you.

“Jake, we need a plan. Now. Rooster knows I came over here last night.”

Sighing, he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. “Princess, it’s simple. We just dial up the hatred and act like nothing happened.”

Princess.

There was no trace of snark this time. Just pure tenderness. The change is so sudden, you can't stop yourself from attacking the handsome man with kisses.

Why the fuck is your car in the parking lot?

The text from Rooster comes right as you get into the elevator. Rather than responding, you hit your friend’s floor number to explain everything. There is no way you can lie to him, you are just going to have to let him in on the plan.

Rooster's apartment door swings open after your first knock, as if he knew you were going to be making a pit stop.

He meets you with a shit-eating grin. “I thought for sure you were the only woman alive immune to Hangman’s ego, but you're a sucker just like the rest of them.”

You push past him and rush to his coffee pot. Expertly navigating his kitchen, you have a fresh cup of dark roast with the perfect amount of peppermint creamer in minutes.

Rooster leans against his counter, and crosses his arms. The look he gives you says, “Start talking.”

You spill your guts to the mustached-fighter-pilot, keeping most things G rated. “And now we are going to pretend we still hate each other.”

Rooster gives you an incredulous look. “Why?”

“Come on, Bradley. If everyone knew that Hangman was into me, I am sure there are bet pools. I’m not giving everyone the satisfaction.” You cross your arms across your chest.

You've been around this crowd, and many others throughout your life. Fighter pilots all carry this air about them.

For good reason, of course. You’re not about to go climb in an F-18.

They would eat this up for years.

Rooster leads you into the Hard Deck later that night. His eyes roam the crowd, looking for the blonde he was talking up the night before. He didn’t get her number, and wouldn't shut up about it after he was satisfied with all the Hangman information.

Speaking of...

You spot him at the pool table. He managed to talk Bob into playing a round with him, and it looked like Bob was loosing. Big time.

Bob sees you coming over to them, and starts shaking his head vehemently. He motions to Jake behind his back, but you can't make out what he’s trying to tell you.

“Hangman is on one tonight,” Phoenix says, lowly behind her beer. “He’s trying to warn you.”

“Too bad I’m in the mood for some fun,” you tell her.

“Taking him to the cleaners, Bob?” You say, making your presence known. You notice the subtle changes in the way Jake grips the pool cue when he hears you.

Jake slowly brings his eyes up to meet yours, and the mischief in them makes your knees week. “He wishes.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot your soooo good at pool.”

“I’m good at other things too, Princess.” Those green eyes sparkle under the bar lights, challenging you. The way he says your nickname is full of disdain again. “Too good to be true, even.”

You don't know how you're going to be able to keep up the facade after last night. Silly you thought this was going to be easy. Easy to fall back into that same cat and mouse routine.

Now, all you want him to do is pull you outside and make out with you in his old as dirt truck.

“Does that work on the other girls?” you ask.

Jake lines up the cue ball with the eight ball, not taking his eyes off yours. “Left pocket, Bob.” He effortlessly hits the cue into the eight and it falls right where Jake wanted it too. “You tell me.”

Jake stands to his full six feet and towers over you.

“Here we go,” Coyote murmurs.

“Why don't you go get me a beer, Princess, then you can take me in a round.” The wink he gives you is almost enough to throw this whole plan out the window and just the gang know you slept together.

“Last time I checked, Princesses don't get peasants drinks.” You give Jake your best smirk, raising your brows in a challenge. Bob, Coyote, and Phoenix are watching the showdown like it's Wimbledon. You take the cue from Jake.

“Rack ‘em, Bagman.”

“It’s Hangman, Princess.”

“Like it matters.”

Jake grabs his heart. “You’re killing me tonight.”

Rooster appears out of nowhere, handing you a martini. He flashes you his phone, telling you he found the blonde and got her number.

You take a sip of the drink, and the harsh liquid makes its way down your throat. “Thank you, Roos.”

“If you win, I’ll buy you your beer,” you say, distancing yourself from the heat radiating off of him.

Jake cocks an eyebrow. “Oh, sweetheart, I want more than that if I win.”

Your stomach flips at the way he's looking at you. He is taking you in like you’re a cup a water and he’s been walking the desert for days. You took care in choosing your outfit tonight. You knew a tight olive green dress would drive him insane.

Jake leans over the pool table to break the balls. Before he can make contact, you place your martini glass in front of the cue, Sweet Home Alabama style.

“Where are your manners? Don't you southern boys let the ladies go first?”

“Pardon me, Princess. Let’s see what you got.”

You were able to hold your own with him for a little bit, but Jake’s competitiveness shined bright. He couldn't let you win. It wasn't his style. He let you knock a few of your solids in, but he sunk all of his in one go.

“One more left.”

“You never told me what you wanted if you win.”

“Middle pocket.” He lines up his shot. Everyone leans in to get a better view, even though they all knew he was going to sink it. His green eyes meet yours. “You.”

In one swift motion, he pulls the cue back and knocks the black ball in as easily as he did in his game against Bob.

Nothing you can do will hide the blush on your face. Jake comes around the table and pulls your face to his. He covers your mouth in the most delicious kiss.

“I fucking knew it!!” Coyote shouted. “I told y’all something happened!”

“So much for the plan,” you murmur against Jake’s mouth.

“I threw that plan out as soon as I saw you in this dress. I’m sick of all these guys’ eyes on you. They need to know you’re mine.” Jake brushes your mouth with another kiss.

a/n: I hope y’all enjoy part 2 as much as part 1! school started back up for me, so I've been preoccupied getting my class ready, and lessons planned! leave me some requests in the comments, or in my ask. I think I have that set up correctly!

#top gun #top gun maverick fic #top gun maverick #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x oc #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x you #jake seresin imagine #hangman imagine #hangman x reader #hangman fic #hangman x oc #hangman x you

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elodieballard · 2 years ago

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hey!! could u do a femreader x platonicconrad possibly where the fem reader and conrad grew up at cousins like the rest of the group and everyone thought they’d end up together until she came out and now has a crush on a girl and they go to conrad for

STOP THIS IS SUCH A CUTE IDEA

thank u so much for requesting, i’m happy to write for tsitp!

i hope this does u justice ! <3

———————————————————————

i love you to unite.

platonic! conrad fisher x fem! reader

warnings: underage drinking, light fighting and shoving, cursing, homophobic aspects, etc.

summary: being belly and steven’s older sister meant you could easily tag along with the boys, unlike belly. conrad always stuck out to you in a way, but not in the way u forced yourself to believe. you hadn’t any clue of what it what’s until a very special summer.

there was mom and belly in the back seat, slowly bumping over each pothole in the road as steven drove lazily. i’d put my feet out the window, stuck my head out of it, i’d— i’d done it all.

anything to make the time pass. anything to make the drive to cousins faster. i needed it more than anything. school was becoming overwhelming. the summer had come already, but my friends had been bitches all summer.

but at cousins, there were no bitches. not conrad, not jeremiah, not susannah. in the summer house, there were angels.

i put my sunglasses on the top of my head, checking steven’s phone to look at the gps. a minute left.

though i’d been on this drive, this road to cousins many times before, there was no point of it where i memorized i was close enough. in fact, no where was close enough. not even in the driveway.

on the ride there, i was always overwhelmed with excitement that i didn’t even have time to look around. there was susannah, my second mother. and there were connie and jere.

“hey, y/n, are you excited to obsess over conrad with belly even more?” steven teased as he turned the wheel.

i grit my teeth. i liked conrad, right? so why did it make me so mad when someone reminded me i was supposed to like him?

“yeah, sure, whatever.” i whispered, finally starting to see the neighborhood.

“i wonder if clay will throw any big bangers this summer,” steven wondered aloud. i looked in the mirror and saw mom cringe.

“clay’s creepy to belly, steven. and he’s a bad influence. you won’t be hanging out with him this summer, i’ll make sure of it.” she said.

belly had been quiet the entire ride. after we’d stopped at the gas station, she’d kept to herself. she wasn’t sad or anything, just thinking.

my heart must’ve leaped about a hundred times when we finally pulled into the driveway. the house looked the same. freshly power washed.

when i thought about this, i giggled. a few years back, belly and i found susannah talking to a cleaner on the phone. we’d figured out she hired them after we left and before we came. she’d told us not to tell mom, though.

“he’s not creepy to me, so me and y/n could go with jere and conrad. maybe there we can find another boy that would take her eyes off of conrad.” steven parked the car.

“steven, stop.” i didn’t know why i got mad, but something inside me hated when steven—or anybody talked about me liking boys.

“well, i still believe connie and y/n are meant for each other. i’m still patiently waiting for the wedding.” mom said, opening her car door.

and once we were out, i wanted to send the car off a bridge. i never wanted to need it again. i never wanted to leave this house. and that’s how every summer has been.

jere was there first. he man-hugged steven and immediately started talking about his career in football, and then his eyes fell on me.

“oh, my big sister,” jere exclaimed as he came running to me, extending his arms and pulling me into a hug. “holy shit, is that real?”

he’d pointed to the snake tattoo on my wrist. i took my apple watch off so he could see it more. “yessir. got it for my eighteenth birthday.”

he smiled. “that’s sick. you should take me to get my hand tattooed when i’m eighteen.”

i smiled back at him. “when you’re eighteen.”

he hugged belly then, and i heard them talking about her contacts and her hair, and her mascara and her shorts.

i never before realized how much belly changed. it made a string on my heart twinge. my little sister was growing up.

and then there was conrad. he had come from the side of the house, smiling as his eyes locked with mine.

i ran up to him, pulling him into a hug. normally, people are shy with their crushes, so why wasn’t i shy with mine?

if i was being completely honest, conrad was like my brother.

———————————————————————

belly had snuck out. i was sitting with conrad and his girlfriend—well, the person he was making out with— nicole, when i’d found out.

belly had stalked into the bonfire, uninvited and in a short dress. a switch flipped in me. a protective big sister switch.

“belly!” me and steven screamed at the same time. i stood up and walked over to her, followed by steven.

“WHAT are you doing here?” i asked.

belly was self conscious, and it was pretty obvious. the way she pulled her dress down, the way she pulled the straps up. the dress must have been taylor’s. “i was invited.”

steven scoffed. “by who?”

“the guy at the gas station.” she muttered, fiddling with the hem of her skirt.

“you’re not here for the guy at the gas station, belly. you shouldn’t be here at all. period,” i sighed. “that’s it.”

conrad finally looked back and saw her. he stood up too, and nicole followed him.

belly looked nicole up and down, then faced conrad. “i thought you hated the red sox.”

conrad parted his lips, getting ready to say something, but nothing came out. he closed them. “fuck you, belly.”

“ENOUGH, you two,” jere said, coming over. “ignore what they say, belly. i’m happy you’re here.”

“ ‘ignore what they say’? really, jere? we’re her older siblings, we are basically in charge of her.” steven snapped.

“so?” jere asked, and that’s when i looked down and saw the beer can in his hand. i swallowed. jere’s only seventeen. “let her have fun. she doesn’t have to be ‘good ol’ belly’ all the time. if she doesn’t risk anything, she won’t learn anything.”

i ignored him. “belly, we’re getting you home now. steven? i’m gonna take your car since you parked it closer.”

“yes ma’am.”

“no,” belly said. “i’m not leaving. you guys try to leave me out of everything, but not tonight.”

“nice try, belly. we have to go now. say your goodbyes.” i said and grabbed her arm. then, she shoved me.

i staggered back, surprised. i stares down at my chest where she’d pushed me. “you bitch!”

i pushed her. she staggered back as well, and then grabbed my arm. she threw me to the ground.

i landed in the sand harshly, my head immediately getting a head ache. everyone started to walk out of the circle they formed (i didn’t notice.)

my little sister won a five second fight against me, and now my head was throbbing.

even jeremiah, steven and conrad had left the circle. i was all alone until,

her.

she’d come over almost immediately when i fell. “are you okay, sweetie?”

i looked up at her. she was beautiful. it was one of the only times that i realized that when i look at pretty girls, i wasn’t jealous. i didn’t want to look like them. i wanted to be with them in some way.

she looked like she belonged in a museum. her black curly hair was pulled up into a bun, two strands hanging out in the front. she was wearing denim cut offs and a blouse which was slightly low cut. almost her entire arm was decked out in bracelets and around her neck was a cross necklace and a rectangular green one, like a birthstone.

“here,” she reached out her hand. “i’m cadence.”

i blinked. “uh, i’m—i’m- y/n…”

“nice to meet you, y/n. are you okay?”

she meant my head. i nodded awkwardly. “yeah, sure. my sister can be a dick sometimes.”

i glanced off for a second, catching a glimpse of belly and a boy sitting in the sand together, away from the fire. i turned back.

“it’s cool. here, let’s sit.” she sat on a lawn chair, gesturing to the one beside it. i took a seat. “i’m so glad i have someone to talk to now. this whole bonfire was awkward.”

“i’ve been going to this bonfire since i was sixteen. i love it here, no matter if there’s someone to talk to or not.” i responded. i found it easy to talk to her. she was like that.

“how old are you now?” she asked.

“uh, i just turned eighteen a few months ago.” i was so nervous that i was biting my nails.

“cool, i just turned eighteen last week.” she said, and i nodded. i couldn’t help but be relieved she was of age. it wouldn’t be illegal. but then i stopped myself. what wouldn’t be illegal?

“do you live here year-round or do you come for summers?” i asked.

“i live here year round. what about you?”

“i’m from philadelphia,” i explained. she stated at me blankly. “pennsylvania.”

“oh,” cadence gigged and i cringed at how much i loved the sound of it. “i’ve really only heard of pittsburgh.”

“my favorite place to visit, you know. the city is no new york, but it makes you feel like home, even if it isn’t home.”

“makes sense.”

——————————————————————

i woke up the next morning with burning eyes. i’d cried the night before.

everything in my life changed after last night. everything. i wouldn’t ever be able to look at conrad the same.

i sat straight up in bed. i should tell him about it. that would make everything easier. yes! it was the perfect idea.

i got dressed, brushed my hair and my teeth, and went downstairs. conrad was up early. it was actually only eight o’clock.

“connie,” i said finally as i made it to the kitchen. “i really need to talk to you about something.”

he looked up from his cereal. “yeah?”

a deep breath. “don’t hate me.”

he nodded. “okay?”

a deep breath. “i’m… you have to accept me. you don’t have to accept it, but accept me.”

he nodded. i was wasting his time.

“look. i love you. i love you so much, my whole heart. but not the way i want to. i love you the way i love my mother, my sister. my brother. i love you the way i love my father. the way i love jere and susannah. i love you like a love song but not romantically.”

conrad’s face stood unreadable. “go on.”

i let out a deep breath. “ i don’t love you the way susannah and mom and steven and jere and belly think i do. i don’t love you to get married. i love you for me to get married and for you to get married, and i love you to unite the way our mothers do when we’re older. i couldn’t ever bring myself to love you like anything else. but cadence, i can.”

conrad smiled, amused. “who names their son ‘cadence’?”

my heart stopped. i had to keep going. it’s too late to stop. “connie. cadence was the girl i was with last night.”

he stared blankly. “the girl that helped you?” i nodded. “shes… so you’re—”

“yes,” i interrupted. “i am.”

conrad leaned back in his chair. “makes sense.”

“makes sense what?”

“i don’t know. you never seemed interested in the topic of boys or gossiping about the girls at your school like belly did.” he sighed.

“you’re not bothered?”

“no? why?” conrad asked. he was so calm with it, i could tell he was already getting used to it.

i sighed of relief. “i love you, connie.”

“i love you, too, y/n.”

you grinned, then hugged him. once you pulled away, you leaned on the counter. “now give me girl advice.

#tags are so annoying #conrad fisher #platonic conrad fisher #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher x you #jeremiah fisher #jeremiah fisher x reader

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noteguk · 4 years ago

Text

bad behavior | jjk | m

This is in the same universe as “bad influence.” It can, however, be read as a stand-alone.

— summary; in which staying late to volunteer at a self-help meeting was the best decision you made in a while.

— contents and warnings; smut, the endless adventures of badboy!jk x goodgirl!reader, public sex (in a church…), dirty talk, fingering, degradation (name calling) but also praise, unprotected sex, clothed sex, creampie, cum play, there is a window and also reflections, rough sex, cockwarming, jk being a lil shit because that’s his main personality trait, jk smokes (only mentioned), enemies to fuckbuddies: dawn of the first day

— words; 8.2k

— author’s note; for the anon that asked how their first time was like ;) join me as we explore the lore of this godforsaken couple

It was your mother’s idea for you to find a new place to volunteer. According to her, it had been a long time since you experienced “the invigorating energy of community work” — last time was when you were trying to level up your college application — and it could really “soothe your anxious soul” during the trying times of college finals. Apparently one tutoring program and two research projects weren’t enough to distract you, but you could see where she was coming from.

In the end, you accepted. The old places you used to volunteer in had either shut off their programs or were just too far away from college for you to consider. At first, you decided to follow your mother’s suggestion and tried to work with children — “small miracles”, as she called them — in a local daycare. Which ended up being a terrible idea.

You liked giving back to the community, you really did, but it wasn’t long until you realized that working with infants hasn’t been your wisest decision, and that children weren’t miracles at all. You got tired of going home covered in paint and with pieces of playdough entangled in your hair, and that was when you weren’t unlucky enough to get hit with other, less clean fluids.

So you eventually gave up — both on the daycare and on the faint idea of one day going into pediatrics — and searched for a new place. After having to yell your way through retirement homes, and getting fed up with washing people’s sidewalks, you finally settled in a program that was flexible and light enough for your intense college hours: preparing (and then later cleaning up) a room that was reserved in a local church for weekly meetings.

The entire ordeal took about two to three hours off your day, and more than half of it was spent as free time: waiting for the meeting to end, cramming piles of information in a small room next door. You didn’t really know what the meetings were about since they changed practically every month — they were, at first, a support group for teenage mothers, then it became an AA meeting, then a group for drug users trying to quit. Lately, you were starting to think that the church just gave away the room for whoever had the money to rent it, so it wasn’t a surprise when it was reserved for a motivational speaker to give confidence lessons.

You had researched the guy, some old dude with an unpronounceable name and a sketchy background, and found exactly the type of person you had expected. Yes, you were in the house of Christ, but you were still being heavily judgmental of the fact that he was giving those talks when he had no qualifications whatsoever, and was probably making bank off all the self-help books he regurgitated at least twice a year to prey on vulnerable people. You did share your worries with the administrative office of the church, but they ultimately fell on deaf ears, and you gave up on the idea of kicking his ass out of the holy grounds anytime soon.

It was after one of those pseudo-motivational talks that you walked into the empty room, ready to clean everything up before rushing back to your place, where your roommate had promised to greet you with some wonderful takeout. The chairs were still placed in a circle on the center of the room, where they had been since forever, and you made sure to align them perfectly before you moved on to the litter that had been thrown around the place.

One good thing about those self-help meetings was that they were a lot cleaner than a lot of other attendees, so the “picking up the trash until your back started to hurt” part passed by surprisingly fast. You had just moved on to the snack table, analyzing what you could still save, when your soul almost left your body.

“Hey, you,” you heard a known voice behind you. “What are you doing in here?”

You swiftly turned around, heart thumping violently against your ribcage. You didn’t know how you hadn’t let out the biggest, most blood-curdling scream ever, but that was just the first of many miracles of the night. “Jesus Christ,” you wheezed out, taking one hand to your chest. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people like this.” You swallowed dry, some part of your brain recalling that he had asked you a question. “And I’m volunteering here.”

“I didn’t sneak up on you, you’re just jumpy.” Jungkook scoffed, leaning against the doorframe with that stupid playful smirk curling up on his lips. You didn’t know they allowed demons inside the church. “And of course you are.” He rolled his eyes.

Maybe a few months back, his mocking tone would’ve stung a bit more. However, you had been tutoring Jungkook for about three months then, suffering through endless sessions of his whining and complaining, and you’ve grown used to his passive-aggressive antics already. You learned that Jungkook was a shark seeking for blood, waiting for any crack that would allow him to jump into a perverse little joke — about how you behaved, your priorities, or even the color of your highlighter. You, of course, always stood your ground and threw his comments right back at him — which was his initial plan, as you’ve come to realize. Jungkook enjoyed playfully arguing with you, and you thought that it was another level of strangeness and masochism you simply didn’t have time to dissect.

Still, Jungkook (shockingly) wasn’t the terrible person you once thought he was. Every once in a while — when he was trying to talk you out of teaching him — the conversations you two would have were actually mostly pleasant, and he wasn’t awful to hang around when he dropped the whole badass persona to act like a real human being. You would even dare to say that Jungkook could be actually funny at times, and not in the bitter, sarcastic way he usually was. Sometimes, you dared to think, he could actually be reasonably nice. And also kind of cute. Even hot.

But you would never actually admit any of that out loud. Or even to yourself, really.

“And you?” You asked, turning back around to face the table full of half-eaten food. That looked like a battlefield, and you could already tell that there were only a few survivors left standing. “What are you doing here? Repenting?”

Jungkook chuckled dryly. “You wish. My parents want me to quit smoking,” he said. You could not see him, but you could hear him walking closer to you as you fumbled with the large Tupperware. “We settled on this crap instead of a forced intervention.”

You scoffed. Most of the food before you was unsalvageable — some of the cupcakes had been bitten once and then placed back, and you wondered how someone like that could function in society. “You don’t seem very motivated to quit,” you mumbled.

Jungkook clicked his tongue. “I don’t really care.”

His voice was much closer to you, and you felt the air leaving your lungs for a pitiful instant. You convinced yourself you had only gotten scared again. “You should care about the growing possibility of lung cancer.”

He shrugged. “Maybe. But it’s not really on the top of my list of priorities at the moment.”

“And what is?” You asked.

“Amongst other things…” he trailed off and, suddenly, he was standing besides you, pointing at the chaotic pile of sweets. “I actually came back to grab another one of those cupcakes. The chocolate ones are great.”

You didn’t know why, but his comment broke the odd tension that you didn’t even know that was there, clicking you back into your previous mentality — the one that you just wanted to finish cleaning up so you could leave soon. “All yours,” you told him, “grab as many as you want.”

Jungkook hummed in satisfaction, reaching out to grab one special brown cupcake — an untouched one, thankfully. “I love when you talk dirty.” He almost moaned before shoving the cupcake inside his mouth, taking a huge bite off it. Dramatically, Jungkook rolled his eyes and sighed in delight. “These are fucking great.”

You chuckled, glancing at his direction. Jungkook was dressed in all black, like he usually was, and you were starting to recognize a newfound admiration towards his constant use of leather jackets. What? He looked good. “I’m glad the self-help sessions are paying off,” you commented, swiftly placing the cupcakes inside the transparent container.

Jungkook was paying attention to your actions now, like he noticed you were there working for the first time. “What are you doing with the rest?”

“The church will probably donate it, give it to the homeless or something.” You shrugged. “Or they’ll eat it, I don’t know. I just clean up the place and leave.”

Jungkook laughed at that, taking another monstrous bite from his cupcake and throwing himself on one of the nearby chairs. Your eye twitched a little at the thought that he had ruined your perfect circle, but you’d have to fix that on your way out. “Sounds absurdly boring,” he sang. “And they’re not even paying you.”

You sighed. “After all the places I’ve volunteered in, boring is a blessing,” you told him. You had just placed five hot dogs in the container, and you were starting to wonder if it would be a good idea to feed people in need with those suspicious sausages. “But, yeah, you probably don’t care about any of that.”

“You don’t know what I care about,” Jungkook said matter-of-factly. You didn’t know if he was trying to tease you, but his voice came out so soft and monotone that you couldn’t really be mad about it. It was true, after all: you didn’t actually know what he cared about. Sometimes you thought that he could read you better than you could read him. “Want me to stay here with you? This place is probably empty already.”

You could not hold back your laugh at that, turning around so you could look at him. “Are you offering to be my bodyguard? In a church?”

Jungkook pouted. There was a thin line of chocolate on the side of his lips, which he quickly licked clean. “I’m trying to be nice.”

You giggled, turning back towards the disgusting food. The rest was mostly trash, but you were happy enough with the amount you had managed to find in a good state. “That’s new.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked. “I’m always nice.”

“Always is a strong word.” You smiled, closing the lid of the Tupperware. You had managed to fill three small containers with the leftovers and, honestly, that was a big victory. “But you can stay or you can leave, I don’t mind. I’m almost done anyways.”

He frowned. “Is that your answer?”

You turned around. “What? You want me to beg for your company?” You smiled. “You’re mistaken if you think I’d ever do that.”

“I’m staying.” Jungkook crumpled up the piece of cupcake wrapping and threw it in the trash can besides your body. He watched you for a moment as you started to throw the leftovers away, your back turned to him and a distracted look on your face. When he broke the silence again, you were throwing the last piece of bread in the bin. “Why are you volunteering?”

“Because I like giving back to the community.”

Jungkook sneered at your words. “Seriously now. Don’t lie, we’re in a church.”

“I do, actually,” you stood your ground. There was a vague sound of crickets coming from the half-open window and the low buzzing of the fluorescent lights above you, but, other than that, the city was covered in absolute silence. Perhaps that was why you felt so at peace. “But my mom told me it would be a good thing to keep myself relaxed. You know, take my mind off college stuff.”

He hummed, and you heard him getting up from the chair. “You always do what your mom tells you?”

You met his gaze. “Didn’t your parents make you come here?”

He smiled. “Not the point.”

Before you could hold yourself back, your lips were curling up. Again: Jungkook wasn’t absolutely awful to be around when he actually acted like a human being. “When she says something I agree with, yes,” you told him. “My ego isn’t bruised when it comes to following someone’s idea.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You’re saying that mine is?”

“I didn’t say that.” You smirked and turned back to the table. You started piling up the used plastic cups, already eyeing all the used plates, forks and knives that you’d have to throw away. The daycare had better eating manners than that. “Thought we were talking about me.”

“We were,” Jungkook agreed. One of his inked hands moved to the table, and you were about to tell him that he could eat more of the cupcakes when you realized that he had started to reach for the discardable plates, throwing them away. You really didn’t think he’d help you. “Finals are coming up, though, and you care about that shit. Shouldn’t you be using this time to study or something?”

“I study while you’re out here listening to becoming your real self or, I don’t know... waking up the giant within,” you said. “I’m fine, don’t worry about it.”

He hummed, his nose cringing up at the disgusting remains of food that stuck to the plastic forks. Jungkook seriously didn’t know how you could do that for fun. “You know there are better ways to relax than cleaning up a dusty room, right?”

“Probably,” you agreed. The cups were already in the trash, alongside with the plates, and there were only a few crumpled up napkins to get rid of before you tasted the sweet nectar of freedom. “But here I am. That’s what I chose for myself.”

“Literally any other option would’ve been better,” Jungkook pressed on. “Isn’t that obnoxious friend of yours in cheer or something?”

“Who? Jisoo?” You smiled at him. No one had ever called her obnoxious, but you couldn’t say that the title didn’t fit. Jisoo could be really… intense when it came to standing up for what she believed in. “She is. She invited me to join her already, if that’s what you’re gonna ask, but it’s not really my thing.”

“It’s a shame,” he mumbled, leaning against the table. It was a beautiful miracle how clean that room had become just by getting rid of the piles of gross food, and you had proudly thrown the last piece of paper inside the trash bin when Jungkook spoke up again. “You’d look really hot in that outfit.”

You stopped in your tracks, taking a second to digest the claim he had so mindlessly thrown your way. Just like all-things-Jungkook, a pleasant conversation could not last long, so you weren’t even surprised that he managed to ruin that talk with such a fuckboy-esque comment.

Also like all-things-Jungkook, he managed to awaken a reaction out of you that you didn’t even know could be there. With a faint heat in your cheeks and a frown blossoming amongst your features, you actually felt a little bit of... satisfaction with the fact that he thought that you’d look hot in that skimpy outfit. At the same time, you wanted to slap yourself for falling into his charms so easily.

In that conflicting turmoil of emotions, all you could say was a monotone, “You cannot be serious right now.”

Even if you kind of wanted him to be serious.

“I’m being dead serious,” Jungkook didn’t back down, much to the elation of your ego. You felt like a schoolgirl being recognized by her crush, and the idea alone made your stomach curl onto itself. What the hell were you even thinking about? Yeah, Jungkook was pretty hot, but he was also kind of a douche and you didn’t want to get involved with that mess of a person. Or at least that was what you were trying to convince yourself of. “I mean…” he continued, “you’re even rocking this knee-level dress right now, can’t even imagine how you’d look if—“

“You can shut up now, Jungkook, thanks,” you interrupted him. Because you didn’t know how to act when he was so blatantly flirting with you, you switched back to the same passive-aggressive behavior that you had given him for the past three months. Call it self-preservation, call it panic, but your mind simply didn’t know where to go from there. “And I’m also done here, so you can skidaddle back to whatever swamp you came out of.”

“Awn, don’t be mean, princess.” He pouted. Jungkook was a master at getting you worked up, and you had just given that to him on a silver platter. Maybe if you had mock-flirted back, he would’ve baked away. You would never know. “I was just fucking with you, you’re too easy to tease.”

You pressed your lips together, hip touching the corner of the now empty table. “You were pretty much harassing me,” you said playfully.

“I was not.” Jungkook smirked, shoving his hands inside the pockets of his pants. When had the two of you gotten so close? There was barely any space between your chests. “But it’s okay, I’m not gonna compliment you anymore, don’t worry. You don’t have to be so defensive.”

“I’m not being defensive,” you said, defensive.

“What, is it the church setting?” He raised his eyebrows, taking a look around. “Is it making you uncomfortable?”

“No,” you answered, crossing your arms before your chest. Jungkook followed the movement and his gaze got stuck on the shape of your breasts for a second too long, making a newfound wave of heat rise up to your cheeks. “Not as much as you’re trying to make me uncomfortable right now.”

He chuckled. “You do look cute when you’re shy,” Jungkook teased, taking a step towards you, and you took another one back, pretending you were just going to lean against the table. You sat on it in a weird diagonal position, with one leg still on the ground and the other dangling over the edge. Jungkook was so close that, when he spoke again, voice just above a whisper, you could feel his breath on your skin. “If you don’t want me here, just ask me to go and I’ll go.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. The atmosphere was filled with electricity, your body drowning in the warmth of his presence, the sharp seriousness in his dark eyes, and you could not bring yourself to say anything. Did you want him to leave?

No, you realized in a rush of adrenaline, you didn’t want him to leave at all.

Jungkook raised one of his eyebrows. “Hm? Nothing?” He smirked, placing himself between your legs. Every nerve of your body was screaming for you to touch him, to just wrap his mouth with yours, and you simply could not respond to any of its commands. “You’re full of surprises.”

You found your voice at that comment, heart hammering against your chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re a smart girl, you can figure it out.” Jungkook placed one strand of your hair behind your ear, his gaze flickering down to your chest. From where he stood, he could see the beautiful mounds of your breasts peeking under the fabric, licking his lips at the sight. “Can I at least say that I like your dress?”

Jungkook’s palm slithered up your knee before you could even react, moving towards your inner thigh and raising your dress along with it. His touch was electrifying, and you found yourself craving more of it, a sigh caught on your throat at the tenderness of his hot skin.

“Something tells me that your compliment isn’t so innocent,” you told him, leaning your head back slightly so you could hold his gaze. “Aren’t you gonna complete that and say that I would look better without it?”

Jungkook chuckled. “The idea is compelling, I’ll admit it,” he said, rubbing soft circles on your skin. His other hand slithered around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “But don’t need to take it off to fuck you.”

Your eyes grew wide at that, brain short-circuiting. You frankly couldn’t believe that was happening — the fact that Jungkook was so shamelessly trying (and honestly succeeding) to initiate sex with you. In a fucking church too, of all places. “What- what did you say?”

“You heard what I said.” His stare didn’t falter. Jungkook was looking at you like he could eat you whole, and you seriously wouldn’t mind if he tried to. You'd deal with the social and psychological implications of that another time. “Just tell me to stop and I’ll do it, princess. No hard feelings, promise.”

This time, you spoke out and the firmness and certainty in your voice surprised even yourself. “I don’t want you to stop.”

“No?” His voice sounded like honey, so deep and melodic even through the thick layers of his sarcasm. You had never heard him get so serious, so focused, and the thought that it was all for you was igniting a fire inside your guts. “You wanna get fucked in a church?”

You bit your lip, blinking up at him. The point was: you wanted Jungkook, of all people, to fuck you. The fact that it was in a church was just the cherry on top, and you didn’t care about it as much as you should — your mom would be weeping blood if she knew what was going on, but you weren’t planning on telling anything to anybody. “And what if I do?” You asked back teasingly.

Jungkook smiled, knocking the breath right out of you. You could only hope that you didn’t look as horny as you felt, because your pride was still on the line. “Told you that you were full of surprises.” He pushed one of your legs open, making you lose your support on the floor. Now, both of your feet were dangling off the edge, body trapped between his strong arms and thighs on either side of him. “Are you a virgin, baby?”

You shook your head, and your voice reached you a bit later. “No.”

“Naughty,” Jungkook said, leaning in. He stared at you like a lion stalking its prey, his gaze lingering on your parted lips before, at last, he tilted his head to the side, deciding to move towards your neck instead. “But if you have the taste I think you do, you probably had some lame missionary sex with some goodie-two shoes.”

When he started kissing your neck, you almost forgot to give him a response. You had to bite your lip to suppress a moan, instead producing a low, shaky sigh. “And if I did? What’s the problem with some lame missionary sex?”

“No need to get mad, I’m on your side here,” Jungkook said, one of his hands navigating up your waist, between the valley of your breasts, before grabbing your boob. That time, you couldn’t hold back the whimper that escaped you. “Did he make you cum?”

“Sometimes,” you said, slightly flustered. You didn’t think you’d be discussing your sexual history with Jungkook, but, well, there you were. “He was alright.”

“Only sometimes?” Jungkook chuckled, the vibrations of his deep timbre vibrating through the sensitive skin of your neck, his thumb grazing your nipple. The heat between your legs only grew, your entire body practically begging to feel more of him. “That’s a shame, I could do better.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t start getting cocky.”

“I never stopped being cocky,” he responded without hesitation. Well, he was right. “And I do have a good track record.”

“Doubt it,” you said, the ghost of a smile lingering on your lips. You knew that you were playing a dangerous game, pressing right at the weak spots of his inflated ego to see how he would react. Perhaps you’d be luckier trying to poke a bear with a short stick. “You wouldn’t know the difference between a real and fake orgasm even if it hit you in the face.”

Jungkook leaned back and looked at you for an instant. You knew he had caught onto your challenge straight away. He liked it as much as you did, there was no doubt about that. “Let’s see, shall we?” he asked. There was no denying the devilish aura that was all around him now, suffocating you with its tempting heat. “How long do we have?”

“I’m locking up the room tonight,” you said, watching as his eyes sparked with an emotion you could not decipher. “But I wanna get home before ten. Have homework.”

You could see him fighting against the natural urge to ridicule you for saying something like that at such an odd time, but, at the end, he managed to avoid it. “More than enough time.” Jungkook placed one hand on the back of your neck, gaze darting hungrily toward your lips. “Come here.”

And then his mouth was on yours, and everything else was white noise. Jungkook kissed you much slower than you had anticipated, taking his sweet time caressing your mouth with his; hands exploring the curves of your body and teasing their way underneath your dress. He sighed heavily against your mouth when you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss, his soft tongue poking out and entering your mouth perfectly. Jungkook was a good kisser, you had to admit it, and he got your knees weak sooner than you’d like.

His body was hot and firm against yours and you could feel the outline of his abs underneath your fingers as you trailed your hands down his torso; his quick heartbeat drumming on your palms. Jungkook’s breathing got heavier as you hooked your fingers on the hem of his pants and tugged him toward you. Instantly you noticed the outline of his hard cock against your inner thigh.

Then, something switched. Just as you had reached out to touch his hardness, squeezing it lightly underneath your fingers, Jungkook groaned against your mouth and bit down on your lip. You had barely any time to react before he was pulling away from the kiss, gaze darkening.

“Such a tease,” he mumbled hoarsely, his breath hitting your mouth in soft waves. His hand was hovering over your heat, his middle finger pressing down on your sensitive nub, making you whimper. “You don’t know what you do to me.”

Jungkook was much quicker than your thoughts and, within a second, the motion of your panties being pushed aside made you fumble closer to him; your hands holding tightly onto his shoulders when he finally decided to touch you.

“Fuck,” he groaned next to your ear, making your mind go blank for a split second. The teasing motions of his digits brushing your entrance were enough to make you whimper, hips thrusting forward in a failed attempt to make him move further. “Look at this, you’re soaking my fingers. Wanna get fucked that bad?”

But he didn’t let you respond. The sudden intrusion of two fingers inside your pussy made your back arch, nails digging in the leather of his jacket as Jungkook opened you up. “I—” you tried to speak, but it was hard to think when he started pumping his fingers in and out of you. The sounds of your wetness were a filthy symphony filling the quiet atmosphere. “Jungkook, what—”

“God, that’s so tight,” he groaned, speaking through clenched teeth. His voice was enough to shut you up at the spot, a frail moan dripping from your lips. “Relax, baby, you’re too tense. Let me take care of you, alright?”

You nodded, eyes drifting shut as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you. You hated to admit it, but Jungkook was already winning against your ex by a long shot: the way his digits brushed inside you, gradually moving apart to stretch you, got you searching — begging — for more. You were sure you could cum around his fingers and, when he curled them up and they dragged against your sweet spot, the idea became a lot more palpable.

“Jungkook, you’re taking too long, I’m gonna cum like this,” you complained, chest rising and falling under the waves of your upcoming orgasm. You could feel it building up in your stomach, ready to snap, and you didn’t want it to happen around his fingers. “I wanna feel you.”

Jungkook breathed out at your needy request, placing a kiss against your jaw. “I’m just getting you ready for my cock, baby,” he said. A loud moan dripped from you when he unceremoniously added a third finger, your legs trembling on either side of his body. “I don’t know if you can take it.”

You scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself,” you said, only half aware of the fact that your voice sounded more like a whimper than a serious comment. “I can.”

He smirked wickedly. You really were pushing his buttons. “We’ll see about that,” Jungkook responded.

Within a second, right as your orgasm was about to wash over you, he removed his fingers from your pussy. The frustrated moan you let out was quickly swollen by him, his mouth rogue against yours and the sweetness of his tongue intoxicating you — probably those stupid cupcakes, you thought.

“Turn around for me,” he asked.

You quickly did as he requested, putting your feet on the ground before turning your back to him, hands leaning on the table. Jungkook placed one hand on the curve of your spine, pushing you down until you had your chest against the surface, ass perked up and pussy in full display for him. There was a gush of cold air against your flesh when he pulled up the fabric of your dress and tossed it over your waist, exposing your lower body for him.

The boy hummed at the sight, one of his legs kicking your feet apart so he could position himself in the middle of your thighs. “You’re pretty all around,” Jungkook commented, one of his palms grazing your asscheek before grabbing it. His motion was harsh, needy; earning a whimper from you. “Knew you would be.”

Through the dense clouds of your desire, there was still some part of you that managed to make fun of that situation. “You spend your free time thinking about my ass?”

“Won’t answer until I have a lawyer present,” he joked.

You felt his fingers hooking around the fabric of your panties, pushing it further to the side so you had your cunt fully exposed for him to see. The drumming of your heartbeat almost drowned out the low groan he produced at the sight of your flushed heat.

“Princess, your pussy is dripping so much…” Jungkook trailed off, one of his fingers tracing a line between your lips. He felt the urge to eat you out, to lick you completely clean and make you cum on his tongue, but he decided that would have to wait for a different time. “Is this all for me?”

“Yeah, all for you,” you said, weak. There was a thundering exasperation building up inside you, motivated from your denied orgasm and from the way that Jungkook was taking his sweet time.

“Good girl,” he mumbled and your chest was filled with pride. “Can’t wait to fuck it.”

“Then don’t wait,” you practically begged. “Just rush.”

He removed his finger from your heat. “Shh… be patient,” Jungkook told you and you swore you could practically hear the smile in his voice. You could hear him shuffling behind you, the sound of his zipper opening echoing around that still room. “I’m gonna give you whatever you want.”

You whined at the abrupt feeling of his warm cock rubbing between your folds, its tip hitting your clit after every languid thrust. “Fuck,” you cried out, shaky. Jungkook wasn’t lying when he said that he was big, his length was so thick that you were starting to get second thoughts whether you could take it or not. Not that you would ever admit it out loud. “Just put it in, Jungkook.”

But Jungkook was having way more fun just teasing you. “Pussy’s so wet for me.” He breathed out, his hands tightening around your hips. You felt him throb between your folds, and the sensation got you searching for air. “You’re soaking my cock, baby. You want it that much?”

“Y-Yeah.”

Jungkook hummed, leaning in so he could place a kiss on your shoulder. “I’m gonna fuck you like you deserve to be fucked, princess,” he promised, his length still rubbing between your folds. He was so hard and heavy that your mind was spinning, your lungs drowning in expectation. “Gonna fuck you so well that you’re never going to forget it. Do you want that?”

“Yes,” your voice was a pathetic moan, and you hated your body for betraying you so easily. “Yes, please.”

After another pec on your shoulder, Jungkook leaned back. “Be loud for me, alright?” He asked. “Can you do that for me?”

You swallowed hard — what were the chances that someone would hear you? You had no idea. “Yeah, whatever you want, just fuck me.”

“Whatever I want? That’s a dangerous thing to say.” He moved around behind you, making you flinch when you felt his cock align with your dripping entrance. The anticipation was driving you insane. “Might have to see if you’re up for it another time.”

There was an answer somewhere in your mind — you could swear there was — but it was quickly forgotten the second that Jungkook pushed himself inside you. The drag of his cock was a delicious torture, streching you out and filling you up to the brim until you were shaking under his touch, both of you moaning at the sensation.

“Oh my god.” You breathed out, hands turning into fists on the table. Your cheek was pressed against the polished wood, hot breath creating small white clouds on the surface.

Jungkook released a shaky sigh when he felt you clenching around him, your body desperately trying to move closer to him. “Fuck, baby,” he hissed, his hands holding onto your hips for dear life. Gradually, he moved himself away from your pussy just so he could slam back inside, marveling on the way you trembled at the feeling, crying out his name in the prettiest of whimpers. “Your pussy is so fucking tight. Squeezing my cock so well.”

Took you only an instant to realize that you were absolutely addicted to the feeling of his cock inside you, the heavenly push of his hardness in and out of you as he slowly started to set a pace. “Oh my god, I’m—” a pitiful hiccup interrupted you, turning your voice into a sharp cry. “That’s so good, Jungkook.”

Jungkook chuckled behind you, his thrusts starting to pick up speed. Your eyes closed in endless bliss, every part of your brain focused on the sensation of his fat length stretching you up. “Told you I’d be, not my fault you didn’t believe me,” he said, but you could tell that his confidence had started to wear itself thin — he, too, seemed to be much more focused on the way that your bodies met. “Do you touch yourself, princess?”

You almost didn’t know how to answer him, a deep heat rushing up to your cheeks. “W-What?”

“When you’re alone, baby,” he practically hissed. You were bouncing on the table then, your body jerking up and down as he fully pistoned his cock inside your heat. “Do you play with your little pussy?”

“Y-yes,” you stammered, embarrassed. “S-Sometimes.”

“Show me how you do it,” he requested in-between huffs, lust dripping from every syllable. Jungkook spoke to you like a siren, effortlessly inducting you to comply with everything he wanted. “Come on. Don’t be shy, I wanna see you play with yourself for me.”

You didn’t even know if what you were feeling was shyness, but there was a veil of hesitation that covered your actions. As your hands moved downwards, one of them clenching around the fabric of your dress and pulling it up while the other trailed over your mound, you felt strangely vulnerable, exposed. At the same time, you wanted to do what he asked you to, wanted him to wash you over with compliments until your mind was going blank.

So you closed your eyes and focused on the sensation of two of your fingers coating themselves in your wetness, then their pressure on your clit. You whined at the feeling, pleasure exploding in your veins as you started to rub yourself, tracing small circles on your sensitive spot. There was no way you could ever reach that sensation again, the sweet motions of your fingers combining perfectly with the thrusts of his hard, fat cock inside you. You were doomed.

“That’s it… just like that, baby,” Jungkook whispered, obsessed with the sensation of your walls fluttering around him. You had gotten so tight that he thought he would see heaven at any second now. “Feels good?”

“Y-Yeah, so good...” you struggled to get out, “feels amazing, Jungkook.”

“So perfect for me,” his praise shot straight up to your core, making you mewl under him. God, the way that you were tightening around him was going to drive him insane. “You feel so fucking good, I can’t stop fucking you.”

Jungkook took one of his hands to your neck, using it to guide your body upwards until you had your back pressed against his chest; his hot lips assaulting your neck. The new position made it so much easier for his cock to drill inside you, reaching even deeper and hitting sweet spots you didn’t even know you had. It wasn’t long before you were moaning out, eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure overtook you.

“Just take a look at that, baby,” his voice broke you out of your hypnotized state. “Look at you. Such a good slut, just taking everything I’m giving you, touching yourself for my cock… fuck. Could watch you like this forever.”

You had to take a moment to understand what he was talking about, and then you saw it: the window. It stood silently across the room from you, half open, and the glass combined with the darkness of the night gave a perfect reflection of the two of you. You could see yourself, the mess you had become, as Jungkook pounded in and out of you and your fingers worked on your clit; the darkness of his hungry gaze as he followed the motions of your body against his.

Even if you cried out at the sight, your body freezed up a little at the thought of someone walking by and seeing that private spectacle. The possibility itself was minimal — the window gave way to the side of the land, where a big, thick fence separated it from the nearby houses; most of the ground covered by large trees and bushes — but it wasn’t zero. You couldn’t even begin to imagine the humiliation that would come from being seen like that.

He, of course, noticed your change of demeanor right away, and you could see in the faint reflection that he had smirked at that realization. “What is it? Are you worried someone is going to walk by?” Jungkook almost groaned against your ear. His cock continued to pump ferociously in and out of you, and you couldn’t even understand your own thoughts for a moment. “That someone is gonna see you get fucked like a good slut?”

“It’s not—” a moan cut your sentence short. Not like you knew where you were heading, anyways.

“No one is gonna see you like this, know why?” Jungkook was grunting, his fingers tightening around your throat. You cried out at the feeling, your cunt clenching around him in a way that got him fucking you even harder. “Cause this is all for me. Just for me.”

Then he was pushing you back on the table, your chest crashing against the wooden surface and his hands yanking you by the waist. Jungkook was fucking you so hard that your worries left you as soon as they arrived, your mind a turmoil of desires and broken exclamations that didn’t give space to anything else but him.

“You look fucking gorgeous like this, stuffed with cock,” he marveled at the sight. There was a known wave of pleasure hovering over you, ready to crash at any given moment, and you stopped rubbing yourself just so you could prolong its arrival. “Wanna see you cum for me, make a mess for me, baby.”

The words left you in a confusing, broken order, “Jungkook, I can’t… too much… can’t...”

“Shhh, you can,” he was slowly easing you into your orgasm, his cock drilling in and out of your pussy. Jungkook fucked like a machine, fast and precise, and you didn’t think you’d be able to forget that anytime soon. “You told me you could take it, so now you’re gonna take it. Don’t you wanna be good for me?”

“I- I want to… I’m so close,” you cried out, pressing your forehead against the table. You didn’t know how it hadn’t broken yet, with the way that Jungkook was fucking you so mercilessly hard. “I’m so, so close.”

“Cream my cock, baby, come on,” he urged you on, his member throbbing inside you at the thought. Your legs were so weak that you knew you’d fall facedown on the floor if he wasn’t supporting your weight with his strong arms. “Be a good girl and cream my cock for me.”

And that was it. That was all that you needed to push yourself over the edge, submerging you in ecstasy and making you squeeze him so deliciously. “J-Jungkook!” You moaned out his name again and again, unsure of how loud you were being, but also not caring as much as you should. Jungkook realized he loved hearing you call his name more than anything else. “Fuck! Oh my god!”

“That’s it, baby,” he moaned back, his thrusts a sloppy, uncoordinated mess. He was hypnotized by the view of your cunt hugging him, your wetness dripping down your thighs as you rode out the last seconds of your orgasm. “Pussy’s so fucking tight, so fucking perfect— gonna cum too.”

You gasped out at the sensitivity that was starting to spread, every movement shaky as you tried to push yourself against him. “Yes, please.” You looked over your shoulder, meeting his hooded gaze. Jungkook looked like a god, his dark hair sweaty and messy and his lip trapped between his teeth. That image would plague you forever. “Cum inside me, please.”

He groaned loudly, eyes closing for a second. “Fuck, that’s so fucking hot,” he hissed, chest heaving with anticipation. You knew he was close, everything pointed to that, and all that you wanted was to see him reach his high, using your body like it was just a doll for him to fuck. “Didn’t know you’d want to be filled up with cum, princess.”

“I’m full of surprises.” You smiled — a pretty, fucked-out smile that got Jungkook grunting like a madman. “I want your cum inside me, Jungkook, please.”

“Gonna fuck you full of my cum, don’t worry— Shit.” The sounds he was making were heavily: those breathy, high-pitched moans that echoed all around you; broken by deep grunts that had your thighs shaking. Jungkook fucked himself in you like he was meant for it, throwing his head back and closing his eyes as he finally found his orgasm. “Fuck! That’s it, fuck—”

Jungkook called out your name and mixed it with praises and curses when he came, spilling himself inside your pussy. You sighed at the feeling, taking in the blissful sensation of having his hot cum spilling out of you, dripping down your legs as he continued to thrust inside you, milking out his orgasm.

At last, he started to wince from sensitivity. His body collided against your back, his heavy breathing fanning your neck as he tried to collect himself. “Fuck, baby,” he mumbled, “you’re amazing.”

“You’re not so terrible yourself.” You could not help the smile that appeared on your lips, nor the way that you melted against the surface of the table, drowning in his heat.

Still, you couldn’t stay there for much longer: it was already a miracle that no one heard the chaos going on in that room, and you weren’t trying to push your luck for the night. Especially since you had a pile of homework (and possibly — now cold — takeout) waiting for you at home.

You raised your body, leaning against your elbows. “I have to leave,” you told him, taking one of your hands to lay on top of his tattooed one, trying to ease his grip from your waist. “Now if you could just…”

“Shhh, shhh,” Jungkook hushed, unrelenting. He was much stronger than you, and your muscles were too weak for you to try and do much, so you eventually gave up. “Stop moving. Let me feel you around me for just a bit more.”

You frowned. “Why?”

“I like it,” he said simply. His breath was a faint caress against the skin of your neck, and you didn’t have much fight left in you. “We all have our tastes.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re so weird.”

“Don’t kinkshame.” Jungkook pouted, then pressed a kiss against your shoulder. “You just begged me to fuck you in a church, remember?”

“Yeah, I guess I don’t have much place to judge.” You laughed dryly, then looked over your shoulder. “Why is your cock still hard? How long is this gonna take?”

Jungkook groaned, clearly annoyed. “Shut up and enjoy the moment.”

The so-called moment lasted about two more minutes (which was kind of impressive, you thought) before Jungkook softened and slipped out of you. You hated to admit but you kind of liked the feeling of having him still inside you, completing you as his lips danced around your neck; fingers tenderly playing with your hair. You never thought Jungkook would be so gentle after fucking you like that, but you guessed that you weren’t the only one that was full of surprises.

Jungkook, apparently, also liked to admire his work. After he had slipped out of you, he made you sit back on the table just so he could stare at his own cum dripping out of you, a glimmer of satisfaction in his dark gaze. He had pushed his white release back inside you and smirked up at you, asking, ever so kindly, for you to go home like that, filled with his cum.

You, of course, promptly accepted it.

“By the way,” he called when you two had already stepped out of the church, enveloped by the coldness of the night. There was only one solitary light pole illuminating his features, making him look like one of the saints in the chapel — nothing but fake advertisement, in your opinion. “Wanna know how much I got in that immunology test?”

“How much?” You asked.

“Eighty two.” Jungkook smiled brightly then, and you found yourself joining him. “Never saw a grade so high in my life. And that counts all the times I’ve cheated too.”

“Seems like the tutoring sessions are paying off.” You crossed your arms before your chest, the hem of your dress swirling around your knees. The night was weirdly peaceful after everything that had taken place.

“They are.” He nodded. “I’m looking forward to the next one. Helps that my tutor is kind of a hottie too.”

You scoffed. “So I’ve heard.”

“And, by the way?”

“Yeah?”

“You would look better without it.” He pointed at your dress, a sly smile already sprouting on his lips. “Hope to see it next time.”

“Good night, Jungkook.” You rolled your eyes, already turning around — yeah, like there would ever be a next time.

BAD INFLUENCE COLLECTION

TAGLIST:

@taehyungieskith @fan-ati--c @btstrasht @crazy4myself @sashimi-mochi @ft-multi @kooafraid @dianaaviny @ggukkieland @cryinginmypromdress @kissestothesky

#bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook #bts #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook #bad boy au #smut #reader insert #bts x you #bts x reader #bad boy jungkook #bts au #jungkook au #series #pwp #fluff

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thesolferino · 4 years ago

Text

Favor

⤷ dream x f!reader.

⤷ genre: angst, fluff

⤷ word count: 8.4k

⤷ requested: yes, by this lovely anon!

— summary: dream asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for a day. things only seem to go downhill from there.

It started as a favor.

On a quiet night in your apartment when you stared at your phone for way longer than your eyes could physically take and rolled around on the bed, talking to one of your best internet friends, Dream, he asked you for a favor. His voice was muffled through the mic on his phone, the one connected to his computer way cleaner, but neither of you could bother getting off FaceTime and call on Discord instead - yet you still heard him loud and clear, because you burst out laughing right after.

“What the hell did you just say?” you laughed, turning on your stomach and opening the call, now entirely focused on the timer that counted every second you spent talking to him instead of your Twitter timeline.

“It’s embarrassing, don’t make me repeat it!” And for that sole reason, you wanted him to repeat it, loud and clear.

“Is this why you were so insistent on me coming down to Florida? So I could pretend to be your girlfriend at your cousin’s wedding so your family doesn’t think you’re a loser?” you laughed, finding the situation entirely absurd as he sputtered, words mashing together, trying to defend himself.

“No! No, I wanted you to come here because we’re friends and I-I wanna meet you, this is just a… benefit, of sorts.” he replied, and you couldn’t help but laugh even harder at his poor attempt of trying to save face.

“Alright, I’ll bite.” you chuckle. “What’s in it for me?”

“Whatever you want.” he responded, much too quick. Your eyebrows raised.

“Whatever I want?” you parroted.

“Yes.” he confirmed. “I’ll buy you something, if you want; I’ll even pay you-”

“Pay me?! I’m not a whore, Dream!”

“That is not AT ALL what I was saying!” he cut in, yelling as you burst into a new fit of laughter. “It’s just… I sort of already told them I have a girlfriend and I was just hoping you’d say yes ‘cause it’s gonna be very awkward if I show up without the girlfriend in question.”

You put your head in your hands and he sort of dryly laughed at himself when he heard your palm hit your forehead. “What is wrong with you, man?”

“Listen, it’s not gonna be so bad! Just stay by my side for a bit, look pretty, we’ll get some drinks, and then dip. That’s it, I promise.” he reasoned.

“And here I thought we were gonna make out in front of everyone. What’s a fake relationship if we don’t make a show out of it?” you sarcastically snickered, and could practically see his eyeroll from miles away.

“If that’s what you want, then we’ll do it, by all means.” he replied and you laughed, shaking your head in mild disbelief.

“Alright, well, if you already told them, I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” you huffed, pretending to be way more bummed out about it than you really were. “I’ll do it.”

“Thank you so much, oh my God.” he replied and you chuckled at the sheer relief in his voice.

A few seconds of silence pass. “What’s the catch?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“How do you want me to publicly embarrass myself in exchange for this favor?”

“Personally, I think that forcing you to tweet that tweet about pissing yourself in bed again and also tweeting that everyone should subscribe to me isn’t “publicly embarrassing” at all.”

“Maybe I should’ve picked a different fake girlfriend.”

“Sucks to suck, pissbaby.”

The weeks leading up to your meetup felt like years, with every treacherous minute of you two talking over muffled mics and shitty webcams feeling longer than it should, your empty apartment feeling emptier and emptier by the day. Was it even possible to miss a person you hadn’t even met yet?

It turns out that it very much was, because as soon as the painfully long weeks were up and you were finally metres away from him, you jumped in his arms like a woman finally seeing her soldier husband after the war, standing on your tiptoes while he bent down the best he could to hug you back. His chest rumbled with a warm laugh when you turned your head ever so slightly towards his ear.

“Hello, boyfriend.” And just like that, the warm turned into a groan of faux annoyance while you burst into laughter and he pulled away, scanning your face with an equally annoyed look.

“I should’ve never asked you for that. You’re never letting it go, are you?” Yeah, you were kind of annoying with the amount of corny boyfriend jokes you threw his way - you had to give him that. But then again, he crafted his own fate and now he must accept the consequences.

“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t realise your majesty wasn’t appreciating the work I’m doing! I just won’t show up at that wedding, how about that?” you bit back, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“You’re such an idiot.” he laughed. “Give me those bags.”

A blissful week had passed, and he hadn’t pissed you off in real life nearly as much as you thought he would. It took a bit of getting used to to his family calling him Clay instead of his beloved internet username, and you did get a couple of suggestive looks from his mother the first few times she visited - you had a couple of “eye conversations” in which she never exactly asked if you were his girlfriend, and you never exactly denied it, but you knew both of you felt the weight of the unspoken words yet you had to keep everything secret and ambiguous. Or at least you thought you did, before he revealed to you that he told his mom the two of you were dating already. Seems like the glances were knowing and not questioning. Maybe you weren’t as good at eye conversation as previously thought.

Living with him was fine, mostly because he had godly air conditioning and a house that was probably way too big for him, and also a very cute cat that followed you everywhere and made living with a man for a full two weeks way more bearable. Finding out that he can’t cook was one of the most bizarre revelations about him that you’d had in the years of your friendship, and you demanded he watched as you made chicken wraps. You complained about how he was 21 and couldn’t cook for himself, he complained about how it’s 2021 and he can just order from Chipotle or something, dude.

A week of goofing around and trying to hide the fact the two of you temporarily lived together from the internet had passed quicker than it should’ve, and for the first time in seven days, Netflix was turned off and the two of you were dressing up for the wedding, ready to set off with his parents and younger sister. He spent ages trying to convince you to match with him, which was quite literally impossible because he wore a black suit and you brought a red dress, which resulted in the two of you roaming around a local mall at 10 am, half asleep, looking for a reasonably formal black dress, because of course Dream always got his way.

An hour of arguing and your fashion tastes clashing later, you picked an off shoulder black dress with a high slit, along with a pair of pumps, both of which you forced him to pay for, and went back home, ready to glam both of you up as much as humanly possible because you were not ready to let him show up in some horrendous pair of shoes and claim to be your boyfriend.

“Is this okay?” you questioned, turning from the mirror to face him and let him be the judge of your shimmery black and white eyelids, spending way too much time on a makeup look for a wedding of someone whose name you didn’t even know. He blinked at you as his judging gaze washed over you like a wave, scanning you up and down while you nervously cocked your head, leg tapping in faux impatient annoyance to cover up the fact that you felt like prey under his eyes.

“It’s… yeah, it is. You look good.” Dream confirmed, nodding his head at you in a movement that was way too quick and snappy and you turn back to the mirror with a huff, watching him stare right back at you.

“Too much, right? I should try something else.” You say, grabbing your makeup remover wipes, but he cuts in before you can even wipe a single smudge.

“No, no, it looks good, I promise. Really good. Don’t touch it.” Something way too sincere in his voice makes the air tense, more tense than usual, but you drop it, deciding to just take the compliment with a tight lipped smile.

“Okay. You ready?” you ask, and he nods, nervously straightening out his suit before looking back at you with an anxious grin.

“Yeah, I think so. Do I look fine?”

He did. He looked more than fine. You’d never seen him actually dress up for something and put proper care into his looks - he was practically forced into doing it by you this time as well - so seeing him in an actual black suit, all formal and expensive looking, messy dirty blond hair properly combed for the first time in ages, made you gulp and look away. You sort of never understood the argument that women and men can’t be friends because you were never attracted to one of your male friends, ever. Dream was born to be an exception to every rule, it seemed.

Realising that you abruptly looked away, you attempted to awkwardly clear your throat and smile at him.

“Yeah, you do. Let’s go.”

During the ride there, his mother seemed to finally explode and the words that have clearly wanted to pour out of her mouth for ages finally came out. You supposed it was better for the poor woman, and did your best to suppress a laugh when Dream dramatically sighed and leaned against the window when she nosily spoke up.

“So… since when have you and Clay been together? He’s told us absolutely nothing!” She spoke up from the passenger seat, shifting to look at you, excited smile plastered on her face and you politely smiled back, mentally noting that you’d have to bully the shit out of him for acting like his mom is embarrassing him in front of his 8th grade crush.

“Ah, we’ve been friends for a long while, but we only started dating a month or so ago, because it’s hard doing long distance and all that.” you said, hoping it would sound believable enough because the two of you rehearsed this a few days ago, writing out a whole backstory from how you started dating to what exact words he used when he asked you out. There were a couple of arguments here and there, such as the fact you refused to say you confessed you’ve been in love with him for years and he refused to say he admitted he’s been your “bottom bitch” for 3 years but in the end, you somehow managed to agree on a cohesive timeline of events.

“Oh, does that mean you’re going to move here?” she questioned, and that one didn’t surprise you either, Dream having prepared a full list of answers to questions that people might ask in your notes app. He was a perfectionist to the point it got on your nerves, but that had its own perks.

“No, but I’ll definitely visit more often, and if it goes well, I might as well move here.” you smiled back at her and she nodded, going back to staring through the windshield. You and Dream exchange a relieved glance that you hope his younger sister doesn’t notice.

“Let me tell you, I was waiting for you two to get together! He always talked about you, I was getting tired of him, you know that?” she giggled and you widened your eyes at Dream who, snapping out of somewhat of a daze, immediately jumped to protest, light blush adorning his pale cheeks.

“No, I didn’t! I did not, mom, don’t lie to her.” he argued while all she did was laugh.

“Oh come on, it’s not embarrassing now that you’re together!” she kept going, and his younger sister joined in, to make it even worse.

“Yeah, you do talk about her a lot, not gonna lie.” she spoke up and his cold glare directed her way told you everything you needed to know, hanging on by a thread not to burst out laughing. He refused to even look your way, turning back to the window as his cheeks started heating up. You couldn’t help but let out at least a bit of a giggle, placing your hand on his arm in fake comfort.

“It’s okay, you can admit it now.” your tone borderlined on mocking and he knew you’d make fun of him for days to come so he stayed silent while the rest of the car burst into laughter.

The wedding was truly beautifully set up, set in a hotel wedding venue, walls painted in pure innocent white with hints of gold here and there, and you nudged Dream as the two of you observed in awe, asking what sort of money the groom had to be able to afford this sort of expensive venue. Nudging him proved to be way easier now, because you linked arms - you originally made fun of him for suggesting to walk like that instead of holding hands like normal people, telling him you’d look like you were at your high school prom, but he persisted, and you didn’t end up looking as goofy as you thought.

“He’s a doctor or something, pretty sure.” he replied, quick feet trudging down the long hallways, your own struggling to keep up with him, especially in your heels. He seemed to be in a rush to sit and get it over with as soon as possible so he could avoid any nosy family members, but bad luck followed him everywhere, it seems, because as soon as you two entered the place where the bride and groom would unite, at least three different pairs of eyes locked on you, and you immediately saw a fairly elderly woman get up with open arms, staring at Dream with a grin on her face. You saw him immediately tense up, and almost laughed right then and there.

“There’s my boy! Oh, you’ve grown so much, come here!” The woman looked to be in her fifties and Dream let go of your arm to nervously laugh and fall into her hug, the two rocking from side to side as she kept going on about how it seemed that he grew taller and taller every time she saw him.

When the two pulled away, her eyes fixed on you, judgingly scanning from head to toe and you suddenly realised why Dream tensed up the way he did - old white women sure had a way to make you anxious. Thankfully, he stepped in.

“Aunt Bessie, this is Y/N, my girlfriend. Y/N, this is aunt Bessie, my mom’s older sister.” he generously offered the explanation you were so obviously lacking and you grinned, as if that information helped you in any way, and stuck out your hand in an offer of a handshake. However, she seemed to have different plans, because as soon as she heard the words “my girlfriend” her face lit up as if she won the lottery and her lips stretched into a smile, opening her arms for you the same way she did for him.

“Oh my God, you finally got a girlfriend? Come here!” she said, shaking her head at your outstretched hand and gesturing you to return the hug which you quite hesitantly did, politely laughing as she hugged you tighter than you’d deem appropriate. Dream came from a family of huggers - that much was apparent from him, you guess, but you weren’t exactly prepared for this.

Aunt Bessie seemed to be way louder and screechier than expected, because the word “girlfriend” boomed through the room and off the snowy walls, and at least five other family members of his turned around to check who the lucky fellow that finally got a girlfriend was. Another one of his aunts seemed to notice the commotion and suddenly, another older woman with shoulder length, dyed blonde hair, along with her two younger kids, was hurling at you as well.

“I always complained to him that it was about time he got a girlfriend! He’s a fine young man, no wonder you picked him, honey.” Aunt Bessie shot you a knowing look and you closed your mouth in a tight lipped smile in a feverish attempt to keep down the laugh that threatened to escape you.

“Oh yeah, he definitely is.” you giggled, looking up at Dream again who looked like he wanted the earth below his feet to open and swallow him whole. Before you could nudge him in the ribs and tease him for hours to come, the other aunt suddenly spoke up.

“Clay! Oh my gosh, is that you?” she exclaimed, shocked grin on her face, and you briefly wondered if Dream ever even visited his family. He nervously smiled, obviously not really sure who this woman even is, but he hugged her back anyway, clearly walking the line between ‘happy to see his family’ and ‘insanely uncomfortable’.

“I haven’t seen you in so long, your dad hasn’t visited since we moved to Toronto! Look at how tall you are, you’re taller than my husband now! You used to be so tiny, whatever happened to you?” Upon hearing the word Toronto he seemed to realise who he was talking to as his eyes softened, and you wondered if he really was so expressive or you could just read him that well.

“I grew up, I guess.” He awkwardly laughed and she laughed harder than she should’ve before turning to you.

“Oh, and who is this?” She said, gaze periodically switching between him and you, a knowing smile on her face which told you she definitely knew who you were.

“Ah, this is my girlfriend, Y/N. Y/N, this is… my dad’s cousin, Mabel.” He introduced, large hand landing on your back, and you felt like you were experiencing déjà vu at the way her face lit up at the mention of a girlfriend.

“Wow, it’s so nice to meet you, Y/N!” She said, energetically shaking your hand, before turning back to Dream. “You never told us you got a girlfriend! You’re finally planning on settling down, huh?”

Your head snapped in his direction at the speed of light when she mentioned settling down, and you could see him tense up as well as he nervously laughed.

“Yeah, we haven’t visited in a while, so nobody from the family really knew. And, uh… we haven’t really thought of that yet, we’re taking it slow and everything.” He said and you were almost in awe at how good he was at bullshitting. The woman did nothing but laugh.

“Ah, don’t lie to me, I see the way you two look at each other! It’s your wedding we’ll be attending next!” She winked, and just as Dream got ready to fake laugh once again, her family called her over and she excused herself, walking off.

The two of you hurried to your seats as well, sitting down next to his younger sister.

“Your family is insane, man, holy shit.” You laughed in disbelief, staring at him as he shook his head, clearly as distressed as you were.

“Literally nobody in this family gives a single fuck if I’m single or not except the old aunties. And I seem to have a shit ton of those.” He muttered under his breath. “The way you look at each other - I literally didn’t even look at you properly that whole time!”

You cackled at that one, hitting his arm. “She’s right, Clay. You’re one fine young man, eh?” You nudged him as he groaned in embarrassment, only turning your way to glare at you.

You didn’t get to tease him for much longer, though, because the organ started playing and the bridesmaids and groomsmen lined up, the groom standing at his designated place. The bride walked in, arms locked with her father, thin white veil covering her face as she walked down the aisle, looking angelic in her puffy wedding gown. Silky brown hair fell down her shoulders, curled towards the ends, and you could see the hint of blood red lipstick beneath the veil. She looked beautiful - the groom seemed to think so as well, because you could see him tapping the corner of his eye lightly, wiping any stray tears.

She finally made it to the end and stepped to face her soon-to-be husband as her father moved away, sitting back in his chair. The wedding officiant stepped up, and held a speech much longer than it should be, which just led you to zone out.

One day you’d be beneath that veil, wouldn’t you? One day, you’ll face your fiancé the same way she is, and you’ll let your hearts link with a string that nobody but the two of you could snap. Who would that be, though? Who could you even trust with your heart in their hands? And you’re not aware of how and why and when, but your eyes shot up at Dream, whose eyes also glinted in that way where you knew he wasn’t paying attention, and maybe he was thinking about the same thing as you. Maybe one day, you’ll be attending his wedding, forcing one of your friends to play a fake boyfriend as he wipes his tears, waiting for his bride to get to him.

It was disheartening, the thought of being a bystander while he locks lips with somebody else. You supposed you just liked being the center of attention, so you let yourself pretend you were his bride in your daydreams. Separating daydreams from rational thoughts was mandatory, because you weren’t sure how you’d explain to yourself that you can’t stand seeing Dream marry someone else.

Dream, the infamous hopeless romantic, still seemed out of it, maybe even a little emotional, despite not being that close with either of the two. He was probably thinking about his own wedding as well, thinking about his future, the face he’d see when he pulled back the veil.

Just then, his eyes darted to yours, and you realised you were caught staring, snapping your head back to the couple that started reading their vows by now. You started going red from the neck up, cheeks on fire as you could feel his gaze burning into you. He turned back after a few seconds, though, probably assuming you stared at him because you were bored, and neither of you spoke, even though you kind of wish you did. What even is there to say, though?

By the time you snapped back, the “I do”s were already being said, and her veil was getting lifted, showing her beauty to everyone present, and as they kissed the whole room bursted into cheers and applause in support of the newlyweds. The two exit, teary eyed, their parents follow close behind, and that’s when Dream’s family rushes both of you to your feet, following the two into the reception hall where the actual party would take place.

From then on, the wedding is the same as any other. The two have their first dance, they give a welcoming speech, and Dream lets you stuff your face with cake and repeatedly refills your wine glass as repayment for dragging you into this whole thing. At some point, he stretches his hand out to you and asks for a dance like a rom-com main character, and you’re not sure exactly why he did that because he’s mostly terrible at dancing, but you had fun letting him twirl you until you got dizzy anyway.

You also realised just how much he did actually need a fake girlfriend, because it seemed like every twenty minutes some sort of relative of his would walk up to the two of you and congratulate him on “finally getting a girlfriend”. You ended up bullying him for that as well, wondering just how long he’s been single for if they’re all this surprised that he’s got a girlfriend, to which he just downed the glass of water he’d been sipping for half an hour and asked you about the weather.

His family took a few pictures with the new couple - you even got to speak to the bride at some point, congratulating her and wishing the two of them well, but in the span of a few hours, the wedding was over and the newlyweds made a great exit, signifying the end of the party. The two of you were driven home by his parents, and you waved them goodbye as you stumbled to the front door, your heels insanely uncomfortable and the red wine in your stomach weighing down on you; you just wanted to get out of this dress and into a pair of pajamas and pass out on his couch in the living room.

That’s sort of exactly what you did - you half-assed taking your makeup off, wiping down your face a couple of times, deciding that was enough before changing into some worn pajamas and plopping down on the couch next to Dream who already claimed his place and sunk into the cushion while a random movie played on the TV. The two of you basked in the comfortable silence that surrounded you, the exhausted, tired type. You both appreciated the quiet and fell asleep sitting next to each other, wedding already forgotten.

That night, he went from Dream to Clay.

The departure was bittersweet. You left two days after that, your hug at the airport tight, warm, filled with a sugary sweet feeling you couldn’t quite place and sour acid that ate away at you because you didn’t want to leave in the slightest. His arms were warm, inviting, whispering for you to stay but you left anyway, waving him goodbye, setting off to home.

It seemed like all your problems came and went with him, because a week later, at 3 in the morning while you were up editing a video, you got an all caps message on your Discord from Sapnap.

“YOU’RE DATING DREAM?”

You blinked at your computer screen, white letters blinding you in the dark, brain trying to keep up with why he even thought that. Within 10 seconds, another message, this time from Dream.

“so i told george and sapnap that we’re dating”

“don’t kill me pls”

Yeah, you weren’t going to kill him, per se, but he definitely made your life a lot harder than it should be. You opened Discord, Premiere Pro and the unedited video abandoned, typing back to Clay quickly.

“WHY”

He responded immediately, as one panicked man does.

“they’ve been making fun of me for being single for ages now :(“

“we already did this fake dating thing before and it went perfectly fine”

“just play along for a month or so”

“pls”

You audibly sighed. And as if he could hear you, he started typing again.

“i’ll promote you on my channel more”

“just pls do it”

“you love me, right”

Another sigh fell from your lips before you could stop it. Of course you did, because if you didn’t, there’s no way you would be playing into this. You typed back.

“fine”

He messaged back immediately.

“THANK YOU”

“LOVE YOU <333”

With a shake of your head, you mumbled “idiot” with the ghost of a smile flashing on your face, switching back to your video, opting to ignore Sapnap for a little bit. He could wait.

Fake dating seemed pretty damn easy during the first week - you thought you were killing it by sending corny tweets and staged selfies so he could screenshot them and send them to the groupchat, giggling on call about how oblivious they are and how you’re fooling them so good, both of you opting to ignore the parts where they claimed they knew the two of you were gonna get together eventually. It was fun, lighthearted, and an excuse to flirt with someone you had nothing official with.

As much as all your problems came and went with Clay, though, they came and went with his friends as well, especially that hopeless man Clay called his best friend.

Because yeah, of course Sapnap was the one to accidentally spill to the public that the two of you were “dating”.

George was streaming at what was apparently a normal time in the UK, not so much for Florida, and Clay was sleeping while you were watching his stream while making some food for yourself. It was going fine, a bit of a chill stream, and you leaned against the fridge as your oven preheated, tired eyes following his Minecraft skin.

“Sophie, thank you for the dono! ‘Hey George, I love your videos, just wanted to ask if you were speedrunning with Dream today?’” he read out, and you could faintly hear Sapnap join the stream through your headphones.

“No I’m not, Dream’s… I don’t know what Dream’s doing right now, actually. He’s not responding to me, though. Probably talking to his girlfriend still.” he continued, exaggerating the last part mockingly, still playing into the whiny role of being upset that Clay was ditching the two of them for you. That majorly woke you up, though, as you stood straight on your feet immediately, because oh no, nobody was supposed to know.

You exited out of the Twitch app quickly, letting the stream play in the background as you tried to fish for Sapnap’s profile on Discord and text him as quick as possible, trying to warn him to not let anybody know, but before you could do it, you heard his laughter clear in the stream.

“Yeah, Y/N, his sweetie poo.” Sapnap said, causing George to laugh even louder, before moving onto the next topic, and your heartbeat picked up an insane amount, nails loud and probably damaging your phone screen as you typed as quickly as humanly possible to yell at him because this was not planned, at all.

You heard him go quiet after you shot him a couple of messages over Discord (“SAPNAP” “ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID” “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU” “NOBODY KNOWS YET” “IM GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU”), type something to George who then fell quiet as well for a few seconds, pure horror on his face, and then went back to streaming as if nothing happened while Sapnap profusely apologised to you on his and George’s behalf.

No apology could fix what had already been done, though, and you were left alone with the warzone that was Twitter who had already speculated the two of you were dating long before while Clay peacefully slept somewhere in his house at 4 am in Florida. You bombarded him with messages and waited until he woke up ‘cause what were you even supposed to do?!

You chose to spend your time finishing the pizza you were originally supposed to make and almost burnt your whole apartment down because you forgot the oven was on for a whole hour while yelling at Clay’s idiotic best friends. You yelled at Sapnap, who kept apologising to you, you yelled at George, who yelled back that it’s not that big of a deal because people were bound to find out anyways, and you yelled at Clay, because he was the guilty one somehow for not being awake during your breakdown.

He did eventually wake up though, to the shitshow that were his notifications with at least thirty messages from each of you, messages from his other YouTube friends who were fairly surprised, and his entire fanbase going ham on Twitter. He was surprisingly calm about it - calmer than you were, anyways, and sheepishly said over the phone that the fake dating thing may have to go on for a little longer since you couldn’t just date for a month and then break up, and you were sort of okay with that.

And of course, the business side of him awoke at that moment, and he giddily told you about the amount of views the two of you could pull if you did the same shit you do with George and Sapnap anyway, but on livestream.

You rolled your eyes.

And then agreed anyway.

And so, the charade began.

His Twitter statement was up shortly, telling the people that you’d been dating for a couple of weeks and weren’t planning to tell anybody yet until a certain someone spilled their guts live, and the fact Dream was dating someone, let alone another popular streamer, took the internet by storm. You expected hate, and you got quite a bit of that, but the people that had shipped the two of you before were certainly more than delighted and a lot of Clay’s fans were supportive.

Now, both of you had excuses to do chill streams together and just hang out and you took the opportunity and ran with it.

You’d sit and play Geoguessr or just try and speedrun Minecraft a bunch of times for hours on end, doing stupid bits and things you’d be doing offline anyways, with a little more flirting than usual, because that’s what made it interesting.

“Oh this is France, for sure.” you claimed one night, two or three weeks after the secret was officially out, chewing on the fries you bought for this specific occasion, streaming on his alt to a few thousand people.

“You think so? It could be Belgium, too.” he responded, humming in thought as he looked around.

“I know so.” you responded.

“How?”

“I just do. Gamer intuition, babe.” you said, and he wheezed at your response, repeating the words gamer intuition under his breath.

“No, seriously. It is France, I know it is, I’ve seen so many pictures of that place I know it like the back of my hand now. That’s Lyon, or something.” you continued, plopping another french fry into your mouth.

“You have? Why do you know so much about France, that’s so random.” he responded, opening the map and pointing to France, although he keeps looking around, unsure of his decision.

“I dunno, I like it there. I wish I could move there.” you replied.

“Why, though?”

“It’s pretty and heavily romanticised! Just like me!” you joked and he laughed, before letting you continue. “I dunno, it’s the city of love. Be a little romantic.”

“The… the city of love is whatever city the two of us are in.” he said, and it took a few seconds for you to process the joke before letting out a fake disappointed sigh.

“I can’t believe I’m dating someone as corny as you.”

At that, he bursts into wheezes, and you follow along, enjoying the sound of his laughter coursing through your headphones more than you used to a few weeks back. It feels nice, feels right, acting like this. You like calling him your boyfriend more than you think you should.

A few weeks go by, and it feels all too natural. It feels too natural, talking to him first thing in the morning when you’ve barely even had your coffee, calling him pet names, throwing sweet words at each other publicly like they mean nothing. It feels all too natural, and nice, and all too right, and you don’t even notice when the two of you cross the line between public and private, and you’re stuck making stupid jokes about making out when you first see each other when there’s nobody to witness them except the walls of your rooms, but you don’t like thinking about that, because you know it’ll bring nothing but confusion. The current this that the two of you have is perfect to you, perfectly lighthearted and funny and fun, and you intend on keeping it that way, refusing to think about it in any way past jokes.

That is, until you can’t anymore.

It’s late, again, and you’re staring at his contact name on your phone screen, lazily lying on the bed. It reminds you of a night from roughly 3 months ago, when your whole friendship seemed to change in the few seconds it took you to process what he’d asked of you, and it feels weird, but nice.

“My mom really likes you, you know?” Clay breaks the quiet that you’ve learned to appreciate in his presence, and you exhale through your nose, the noise just short of a chuckle.

“Yeah?” You laugh, and he does as well.

“Yeah.” He reaffirms. “She thinks you’re a great girlfriend. Apparently I seem brighter ever since we got together.”

You laugh again. “I am a great girlfriend, to be fair. She’s totally right.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know that. If you’re as good of a girlfriend as you pretend to be, though, then you’re amazing.” He says, and words fly out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“Yeah? You wanna find out?” The flirty nature is nothing strange to the two of you, but this time it feels kinda different, it feels like you’re stepping into dangerous territory that there’s no coming back from. You feel like you’ve ruined everything, for some reason.

He laughs, like normal, though. He laughs like nothing happened at all, and you’re so, so grateful for that.

“Sure, let’s do it. You’re about to unpack the full Clay boyfriend experience.” He snickers and you laugh as well.

“That means I just unlock the dick as well as the personality.” you respond, quick as always, and the wheeze that escapes him is so loud that it makes you laugh too.

“...Unlock the dick…” he repeats through another wheeze and you nod, laughing.

“Yeah! I mean I’m literally experiencing the boyfriend experience without actually having a boyfriend, it’s fuckin’ great.” you say and he hums.

“You could have one, though.”

The implications are crazy, his words are crazy, he’s crazy and everything that he could mean and couldn’t mean by that is driving you crazy too, brain faltering and heart seeming way too big for your chest to contain it. It’s silent.

“I could, I guess.”

You choose to say, and he switches the topic naturally, like he never said anything.

Things are never the same again.

It’s not in a bad way. Sure, it is kind of a bad way for the feelings you’re trying to push down inside you, a bad way for hot nights when the unbearable heat forces you to stay up even when you don’t want to and you have no choice but to think about why you feel the way you feel as you melt into the burning sheets below you, a bad way for when he jokes about finding somebody else and you feel your stomach churning. A bad way for realising that this fake dating thing is really getting to you, but not a bad way in general.

Maybe it’s in a good way. Maybe the underlying implications whenever he makes jokes about making the relationship real are good, maybe the way he calls you in the middle of the night when he’s anxious and freaking out and defends himself by saying: “You’re my girlfriend, you’re always there for me, I just figured I could call you.” and you end up wondering if it’s possible to say jokes in such a vulnerable state or if he’s serious is good, maybe the way it’s been a few months and he won’t tell his own best friends that it was a joke the whole time is good, maybe the way you confronted him about it and he said he likes having you as his girlfriend is good.

Maybe the way the two of you are always walking the line between joking and being serious, between being friends and something more, between lies and pranks and emotional investment and fear of committing, and the way you’re always trying to push the other off, is good.

The fans love it. The fanart is incredible (serves especially well for those hot nights when you can’t fall asleep and you scroll, watching yourself fall in love with Clay in every universe, tales told by people who observe your story and find it worthy enough to retell in their own words, to take the love you pretend to have and turn it into something real), people love to gush over the compliments he sprinkles in at random times during conversation and the general flirty dynamic is loved by many, pulling in more views and attraction for you.

And you suppose that’s good too, but at some point, the good warps into bad, bad warps into terrible, and you wonder if this is all even worth the sleepless nights, wondering if he feels the same way.

Those thoughts haunt you more and more often every day. When you wake up, and text him first thing in the morning, your brain acknowledges that the camera is off - nobody’s around, people aren’t listening, so why are you still playing the role of a girlfriend and starting up a conversation with him when you haven’t even brushed your teeth properly? When you’re editing in the middle of the day and he calls to keep you company, making more stupid boyfriend jokes, your stomach flips in a weird way that makes you hate him, hate the way he can joke about these things so freely, like it doesn’t hurt him. Like it doesn’t affect him like it affects you.

But, as much as you wish you could hate him, you couldn’t bring yourself to, and that was the worst part. Because, in reality, whenever he laughed you’d smile without realising you did, whenever anything exciting happened to you he was the first one you went to, whenever you wanted to laugh or cry or sit in silence for hours or complain you always went to him, the one person who you know would listen. In reality, whenever he made a joke about giving up on the fake dating and making it real, you wished so bad that he was serious this time, that this was what it took and he’d crack and all of your suffering would end.

It eventually happens.

It’s a pretty chilly morning, birds chirp outside and the sun that slowly rises is covering the kitchen floor in a golden hue as you pour milk into your cereal with one hand and hold your phone in the other, letting Clay ramble about whatever it was this time, when he brought it up.

“So, when do you wanna come down to Florida again?” he asks casually, and you almost drop the gallon of milk in your hand.

“What?”

“I said, when are you coming down to Florida again? Last time you came was pretty fun.” he says, and an empty silence follows. There’s an unsaid “I miss you” that you don’t hear, and he’s too afraid of saying it.

“Florida wasn’t exactly on my schedule this month, man.” you say, placing your phone on the counter for a second. Clay sure knew how to surprise a person.

“Well put it down, then.” he jokes, and you hum.

“What, you got another wedding coming up?” you giggle and he groans - you never really stopped making fun of him for that wedding.

“No, I don’t. Can’t a man just miss seeing his beloved girlfriend?” It’s unbelievable how quickly dread can wash over you as soon as he makes one of those jokes. You were convinced the mix of anxiety and butterflies that appears in your stomach was gonna kill you sometime soon.

“He can, he’s just being weirdly insistent.” you argue nonetheless. “But sure, I’ll consider it.”

You do more than consider it - in a few weeks, you’re back at the airport, and falling into his arms has never given you such an adrenaline rush in your whole life. Something about having him wrapped around you, close to you, the warmth of his body radiating into yours sent you spiraling, head clouded with nothing but love and the fact that you wish you could stay there forever. You wished you could press pause and cherish the moment, let yourself bask in that feeling of pure love, pure adoration that you helplessly drowned in. But you couldn’t, and you left his arms feeling oddly empty.

Hiding the fact that you were unapologetically head over heels for him proved to be a hundred times more difficult when you were right there, next to him, talking to him, when you could just kiss him any second, feel his lips on yours and nobody would stop you - the opportunity was right there, looming over you, the devil on your shoulder taunting you, telling you to do it.

You got to wake up in the same house as him, watch his hair stick out in different directions and his raspy morning voice as he complained about the smell of your coffee, watch his eyes glint whenever he talked about something he liked and observe as he carried around Patches like a little baby. You got to experience every bit of domestic without the consequences of committing, and you wondered just how far this would go. For how much longer would the two of you blatantly ignore the fact that you were a couple that slapped the title “fake” on it because you were cowards who refused to admit what this truly was.

Not for long, apparently, because you grew tired, and decided to put an end to everything on one random Thursday night - and if he hated you forever for it, then so be it.

You were sitting on his couch, watching a random movie together, drowning in one of his Dream hoodies while you chewed the popcorn he made. It was dark outside, just past midnight, and you could see the branches of a tree swaying calmly through one of the nearby windows - the silence while he scrolled through his phone lazily was comforting too, everything was lazy and serene and it would’ve been perfect if it wasn’t for the constant anxiety that gripped you by the throat whenever you were in his close proximity, the nervousness that killed you, the upset feeling of wanting to cuddle up with him but knowing you can’t because you guys are just friends, and nothing more.

The couple on the screen kiss while a violin plays in the background - how fitting. Maybe that’s what pushes you to the edge, or maybe you were just that sick and tired.

You were exhausted, beyond exhausted. Your eyes were tired, the anxiety was morphing into annoyance and anger and you were ready to give up on it all. If this ended the friendship, at least you two had a good run. Your heart couldn’t take it anymore.

“You know, you still owe me a favor in return for pretending to be your girlfriend.” you say, and you sound gone, zoned out, more than you wish you were. You hear his phone turn off with a click.

“Yeah? What do you want?” Clay asks, and you blankly stare at the TV for a few seconds before turning to face him, eyes burning.

“Kiss me.”

It’s silent. The characters on screen are arguing. You hear the wind through one of his open windows.

“What?” he asks, voice cracking, and his expression falls. You’ve fucked it. Oh well.

“I want you to kiss me. Kiss me like you mean it. Kiss me like someone’s watching and you wanna make it believable.” you say, eyes boring into his, your words having nowhere near as much of an effect on yourself as they do on him. Your eyes sting like they’re being lit on fire, and your throat is sort of closing up, but it’s fine. “Let me have this before I go, because once I leave, I don’t wanna do this anymore, Clay. I can’t pretend like I don’t want you to introduce me as your girlfriend and fully mean it. I can’t lie to your face anymore.”

Silence. Deafening silence, once again.

“I love you.” he blurts out, and you don’t even register it at first. “I don’t want this shit to be fake either. God, I really don’t. It hasn’t been fake for a while now, at least not on my part. I’m sorry, it’s just- it was easier to keep this bit going than it was to actually admit that I’m… into you.”

And once again, the room falls into silence, much like it always does whenever the two of you share moments like these.

And then, you burst into laughter.

“So… so you mean to tell me, that both of us have liked each other this whooooole fucking time, and just refused to admit it and ‘pretended to date’ instead?” you burst into giggles, and he looks sort of hesitant to laugh, but he does anyway.

“I mean… yeah? I was waiting for you to call me out for doing all that when nobody was watching! Why did you never call me out?! Don’t blame me, I made it so damn obvious that I wanted you!” he protests, and you almost can’t believe what you’re hearing.

“Excuse me? You should’ve just fucking told me instead of making a million and one jokes about how I’m your girlfriend! We’re not in middle school, Clay!” you argue.

“Yeah, but I thought you’d catch on and talk to me about it at some point! You never called me out for anything!”

“So what, I’m supposed to just read your mind now? You’re fucking unbelievable.” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest and turning away in annoyance. As soon as a warm hand lands on your shoulder, though, the annoyance melts like wax under fire, leaving nothing behind.

“I still haven’t returned that favor, you know?” he whispers in your ear, breath fanning your neck, closer than he should be. The hairs on your neck stand up as you turn back to Clay, who wore a mischievous grin and a glint in his eyes that suggested no good.

You suppose bad can be good, sometimes.

As his lips press onto yours, that theory is proven true, because he sends a flicker of fire burning down your spine, spreading into your limbs, making your fingertips electric as you pulled him in closer, hand snaking up to grip at his hair - the everlasting grin against your own proves, once again, to be no good as his hands slip under your hoodie and grip your sides, but you think you enjoy this sort of bad.

They sneak up further, and you hear him chuckle into the kiss as your insides melt at his touch. The two of you silently agree that maybe he should ask for favors more often.

#dreamwastaken x reader #dreamwastaken imagine #dreamwastaken fluff #dreamwastaken fanfic #dreamwastaken angst #dream x reader #dream x you #dreamwastaken x y/n

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jaehyunfirstlove · 3 years ago

Note

Can you write smut for jaehyun where the reader is also an idol and jaehyun has had the biggest crush on her for a long time? He finally asks for her number backstage at inkigayo and they finally meet up at his dorm after texting for the longest time and things go from there 🤠

Pairing: idol!jaehyun x idol!f.reader

Genre: a bit of fluff?, smut (18+ only)

Warnings: nipple sucking, fingering, protected sex

Word count: 2k

A/N: haha i got carried away with this one :) hope you like it, anon, and thanks for sending it in!

“Don’t look, but it’s Y/N,” Jungwoo whispered, trying to appear casual. Despite Jungwoo’s fair warning, Jaehyun couldn’t help but turn his head in your direction. Whereupon he blushed to the tips of his ears when you caught him looking and smiled.

“Smooth, Jaehyun, real smooth,” Johnny laughed, while Jungwoo just sighed.

“I told you not to look!” Jungwoo elbowed Jaehyun, who just shook his head, scratching the back of his neck in frustration.

“I can’t help it, she’s like a magnet,” Jaehyun admitted, “I can’t help but look at her.”

“And think about her, and talk about her, and bore us all to death about how much you like her,” Haechan complained, while Mark laughed and scolded him playfully.

“You should just ask for her number,” Yuta commented matter-of-factly, and everyone just nodded in agreement.

“No harm in asking,” Taeil shrugged, grinning at Jaehyun.

“Of course there is!” Doyoung suddenly piped up, “she could say no, and then Jaehyun can never show his face at Inkigayo ever again!”

Everyone groaned, Haechan even rolling his eyes at Doyoung.

“Don’t listen to him,” Taeyong finally came over and wrapped an arm around Jaehyun’s shoulder, “I’m sure she’ll say yes. Just ask, yeah?”

Jaehyun nodded, rubbing his hands together nervously. He left the room, making his way over to your waiting room while the members cheered him on loudly.

---

“So what are you going to wear?” Dahyun asked you, trying to find a space on your bed to sit amongst the pile of clothes you were throwing onto it.

“Ugh! I don’t know!” you lamented, discarding every article of clothing you owned. Nothing seemed to work for you, and you were about to give up and tell Jaehyun you couldn’t meet up with him because your wardrobe was a disgusting mess, when you got a text.

JJ: hey we’re still on for today?

You groaned, while Dahyun started to meticulously go through your pile.

Me: yes of course!

JJ: great! change of plans though

JJ: can we meet at my dorm instead of the park?

JJ: my manager doesn’t want dispatch getting any pictures :(

Me: that’s fine

JJ: awesome! can’t wait to see you :)

Me: me too

Me: see you then

You tore at your hair in frustration, but Dahyun just looked at you triumphantly. “Ta-da!” she said dramatically, holding up an outfit that she had picked out from your pile. You had to admit, it looked good. “What do you think?”

“It’ll have to do,” you said quickly, grabbing the clothes from her hands and hastily getting dressed, “I’m already running late!”

---

“Where is everyone?” you asked, when you finally entered the tenth floor dorm. Jaehyun shrugged sheepishly as he led you through the hallway.

“They, uh, went to practice.”

“Don’t you have to practice too, then?” you questioned, noticing that the dorm was cleaner than you imagined it would be, and smelled nicer than you imagined too.

“Uh, unofficial practice,” he swallowed nervously, opening the door to his room and motioning for you to go in, “here’s my room.”

You walked in, noticing his bed and Jungwoo’s made up neatly. The furnishings were sparse, and any belongings and knick knacks were arranged neatly in their spaces. You wondered if he was really this tidy or if he did it just for you. You had to smile if it was the latter.

“This is nice,” you said, sitting on his bed and getting a whiff of fresh laundry detergent.

He threw his head back and laughed. “Don’t lie, it’s awful.”

You couldn’t help but laugh with him, knowing these dorms, even in the biggest companies, certainly weren’t five star lodgings.

“You’re right,” you agreed, and found yourself smiling from ear to ear at the endearing look on his face, the way his eyes seemed to dance in the light, and the way his dimples dented his beautifully bread-like cheeks. “Come sit with me,” you said, because you noticed he was still standing by the door.

Almost hesitantly he came over, sitting on the bed beside you but keeping a respectable distance. You could tell he was nervous, and that made him even more endearing to you. To further break the ice, you commented on the bracelet he was wearing.

“I like that bracelet,” you said, pointing to his wrist.

He fingered it, smiling. “This? It was something all of us in the ninety-seven line got together.”

“That’s sweet,” you commented, bending your head towards it to get a closer look. He brought it up closer to your face so you could see it better.

“See how it shines in the light if I turn it like this…” he moved his wrist and you had to admit it was beautiful, and you couldn’t help but touch it lightly with your fingers. At the contact he inhaled sharply, and you looked up at him, not even realizing that your faces were so close together.

“Y/N, I want to kiss you,” he said, his eyes roving to your lips. Unconsciously you bit your bottom lip, and that certainly made his heart beat faster, but still he waited for your consent.

“Yes, please,” you said softly, and he leaned in, capturing your bottom lip. His lips were soft and warm, and he kissed you gently, tentatively. You sighed into his mouth but still he went slowly, as if he were relishing every moment. You felt his hands move to your waist, then around to your back, and the way he was holding you and kissing you made the heat rise in your body. Your hands went up to his chest, feeling the hard lines of his pecs, and that made you feel even hotter, and you moaned softly into his mouth.

He kissed you harder, your reaction to his actions making him bolder, his hands now pulling you closer to him. You could feel the pressure he was applying to your back to press your body closer to his, and it made your core clench around nothing.

“Y/N,” he groaned softly, when you pulled away from his mouth for air, “I’ve wanted you for so long.” His hands roamed all over your body as he tucked his face into your neck, kissing softly until you inhaled sharply, gripping his arms when he found your sweet spot. His kisses became more urgent then, sucking the skin ever so lightly, careful not to leave marks.

“Jaehyun,” you whispered, already losing yourself to his touch, “I want you too, I want you right now.”

He groaned, deep in his chest, then laid you back down onto the bed. The feeling of his body on top of you, the weight of him, the heat of him, the hardness between his legs, made you so wet you knew your panties were probably soaked with your arousal.

“Are you sure?” he still asked, even as he started to peel your clothes off of you, “I just want to be inside you so bad.”

You stifled a whimper, he was making you so hot with his words, with the deep rumble of his voice, with the way he was stripping you leaving you naked underneath him.

“So beautiful,” he whispered, eyes drinking in your nude form. Before you could even be embarrassed with the way he was looking at you, he leaned in and sucked a nipple into his mouth, making your back arch off the bed.

“Jaehyun!” you cried out, fingers threading through his hair as he pleasured you, sucking on each nipple in turn, pressing his still clothed bulge against your core.

“Do you want me, Y/N,” he asked, his voice raspy against your chest, fingers slipping between your legs. “Do you want me here…”

A high-pitched cry escaped your lips when he slid his fingers into your sopping pussy, two fingers stretching you, scissoring inside you as he watched your face with hooded eyes.

“Oh Jae, oh fuck,” you moaned, your stomach tightening as he fucked you with his fingers, hitting you so deep you were seeing stars. You came without warning, just your body convulsing when he stimulated your clit with his other hand.

“That was sexy,” he said with a low whistle, licking his fingers, and finally pulling his shirt off over his head. You’d seen the pictures, seen the video of his bare chest, but nothing compared to the real thing. You reached up to touch it, running your palm over the hard planes of his chest, down to his abs.

“You’re sexy,” you said, with a low whistle of your own, which elicited that cute blush that spread to the tips of his ears. You pulled him down, kissing him deeply, your tongue in his mouth, your hands going to his pants and tugging the rest of his clothes off of him. When you felt his bare cock against the inside of your thigh you groaned into his mouth. He pulled away reluctantly, fumbling around on his headboard for a condom. You watched, mouth watering, as he slid it down his impressive length.

“You want it, baby?” he asked cockily, catching you staring.

You nodded, licking your lips and giving him your sultriest stare. He answered with a smirk, spreading your legs even further apart and teasing the tip at your entrance.

You threw your head back, he hadn’t even entered you and you were already losing it. He started to push in slowly, and you couldn’t help the whimpers that were tumbling out of your mouth.

“Oh fuck, oh shit, so good,” he moaned, “so fucking tight.” He was almost rambling, losing himself in the feeling of your pussy spreading to accommodate him. Suddenly he stopped, dropping his head to your chest.

“Jae?” you asked, when he didn’t move, “are you okay?”

“Sorry, I gotta stop for a moment,” you could hear him breathing heavily, “I’m gonna come too fast, you feel too good.” You clenched involuntarily at his words and he hissed. “Y/N,” he groaned, “that’s not helping.”

“Sorry,” you smiled, rubbing his back soothingly until he felt ready to continue. He made one slow thrust, and when you moaned at the feeling of it he kept going, starting a slow pace of fucking into you.

“Jaehyun,” you moaned, the way his cock was filling you up, the way it was dragging in and out of you, was building up your orgasm slowly but surely. “You feel so good inside me.”

He groaned at your words, picking up his pace, his muscles flexing as he started to pound you into the mattress. You were glad no one was home, because the headboard started to bang loudly against the wall, and you couldn’t help the loud moans coming out of your mouth.

“Fuck yeah,” he growled, “your pussy feels so good, so tight.” Sweat started to form on his face as he railed you, his features tense, hair falling into his eyes but he couldn’t spare a moment to do anything about it, his focus only on fucking you.

“Jaehyun!” you cried out, your orgasm washing over you. You had your hands wrapped around his biceps and you squeezed as you came, making him flex, which made your pussy clench around his cock even harder.

“Fuck, Y/N, you’re gonna make me come,” he pulled you flush against him as his orgasm hit, pressing your body against his as his hips stutttered, a loud groan escaping his throat as he came. He was breathing so hard, you could feel his chest heave, the thrum of his heart beating against yours.

You could only smile to yourself as he continued to hold you tightly to him, not caring how sweaty you both were, just wanting to hold you. When his breathing slowed down, he started to kiss along your collarbone and neck, just soft kisses on your skin, his lips warm.

“You feel so good, Y/N,” he murmured between kisses, “I hope that was good for you, because it was damn good for me.”

You smiled wider, holding him tightly to you. “Yes, Jae, that was really good for me.”

---

Thanks for 1.3k :)

#jaehyun imagines #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun smut #nct imagines #nct smut

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brelione · 3 years ago

Text

good 4 u (JJ Maybank X Reader)

Warnings: heavy drinking, swearing, could be upsetting.

Well, good for you, I guess you moved on really easily

You found a new girl and it only took a couple weeks

You stared at the boy that you had once called your boyfriend, deep red hickies covering his neck. He was grinning at something on his phone, probably texts from the same girl that made him look like he had been attacked by giant mosquitoes. Kiara put her hand on her knee, gaining your attention. She just shook her head, silently telling you just to leave it alone.

Although you had agreed to stay friends with JJ so that you wouldnt tear apart the friend group you were beyond angry with him. You didnt exactly have the right to be angry with him, you were broken up after all. He was free to anyone who wanted him. But still, it had only been three weeks since that sad night on the beach.

He let out a small chuckle, showing his phone to Pope. The dark haired boy looked unamused, glancing at you for a second. The tension in the van was so thick it could be cut with a knife, no one starting a conversation. You let out a sigh as you took out your phone, texting Kiara.

You: Fucking Christ look at his goddamn neck

Read

Kie: he looks like he got attacked by vampires

You covered your mouth, muffling your laughter. JJ’s head shot up, watching you. You cleared your throat, typing.

You: Literally. Say what you will about me but at least I was discreet about mine

Kie: Jokes on him cause he has work tomorrow

The rest of the day was just awkward, the four of you sitting on one of the hidden beaches of the outer banks, JJ and John.B trying to catch fish but only catching giant clumps of sea weed while you and Kiara sat in the sun and talked shit about the boys that were standing five feet away.

Remember when you said that you wanted to give me the world?

The two of you sat on your bed, wrapped up with eachother and not even bothering to pay attention to the Netflix Original Movie playing on your tv. “I love you.”He muttered, pressing a kiss to your hairline. You hummed, too tired for a real response. “You deserve better than this shitty island, you know that?”He asked, kissing your nose lightly.

“Yeah?”You asked, your voice slightly raspy from not talking in a while. “Yeah, you deserve the goddamn world.”He grinned, his face now resting in the crook of your neck. “Is that your way of telling me you wanna take over the world together?”You laughed. You could feel him smile, his arms tightening. “If you’re down, im down.”He replied. “Trust me, im so down. My first order will to make all the expensive clothes cheap and all the cheap clothes expensive.”You answered. “The way all the kooks would have heart attacks.”He laughed, sighing. “Topper would start bragging about shopping at walmart.”He held back another laugh.

And good for you, I guess that you've been workin' on yourself

I guess that therapist I found for you, she really helped

Now you can be a better man for your brand new girl

Over the course of a few weeks he carried himself differently. His hair was shinier and his clothes were cleaner, he smiled a lot more and made an effort to drink more water than beer. You didnt know how to feel. He had never looked this happy when he was with you. So what were you doing wrong? The others noticed a change in his behavior too, noticing how he’d step away every couple of hours to answer his phone and by the time he came back he was a blushing mess.

“You know what, (Y/N)?”He asked, making you roll your eyes. This could go two ways. He could either say something really nice or turn into a complete asshole in a matter of secons. “What?”You asked, keeping your voice flat. “Maxine has really made me feel some type of way these days, when I was in therapy last week I made a turtle painting. Isnt that fucking sick?”He asked.

You nodded, a small smile coming on your face. “That’s great, J.”You replied, going back to waxing your board. You wondered if he had talked to her about the break up. Or maybe he talked to her about his new girlfriend. But it didnt really matter. As long as he was happy, you could deal with him. And you didnt mind paying his therapy bill if it meant he could be so happy everyday.

Well, good for you, you look happy and healthy

Not me, if you ever cared to ask

He was not even close to the version of JJ that you knew. Every night when you all went inside you could hear the shower turn on and his heavy footsteps as he grabbed a towel for himself. He had developed an actual nighttime routine, washing his hair and body in the shower, put on a face scrub before he brushed his teeth and once he was done brushing his teeth he’d rinse off the face scrub and comb his hair.

He changed his clothes nearly everyday, always wearing socks with his sneakers. He was just fantastic these days. It seemed like the better that he got the worse you became. It wasnt his fault, it had nothing to do with him. But here you were, watching as the boy who broke your heart completely changed for the good while you changed for the worse.

You would wear the same oversized clothes for a week and a half, getting two or three hours of sleep a week, barely even talking to the group anymore. You just drowned yourself in beer and shitty music. And the worst part was that nobody even actually noticed. It felt like you asked JJ everyday how he was doing, how he felt, how therapy was. He never asked you how you were doing, it seemed like he didnt even care anymore.

Good for you, you're doin' great out there without me, baby

God, I wish that I could do that

It seemed like everytime he came around he had a new shirt or a new ring that his new girlfriend had bought for him. The others were a bit uneasy with the sudden changes, not used to seeing this part of him. He had moved on so easily, you wished you could do the same. You had no idea why you were so stuck on him. He was clearly over you and yet here you were clinging onto that tiny chance of getting back with him. It was pathetic, really.

I've lost my mind, I've spent the night

Cryin' on the floor of my bathroom

You couldnt keep track of the amount of times that you had to call Kiara in the middle of the night because you had drank so much that you couldnt even get yourself off the bathroom floor. This is what it felt like to go mad, watching as the world spun around you and tears ran down your face. “(Y/N), you cant get him back.”She would tell you, holding you in her arms. “BUT I WANT HIM BACK!”You’d shout.

“No, you want the feeling of being with him. Maybe it would be best for you to just stay away from him for a while, yeah?”She asked. “I miss him.”You sobbed. “I know, hun. I know.”She replied. “Who is he even dating?”You asked, realising you didnt even know who was causing you this pain. “Some kook named Lia.”She replied. You rolled your eyes.

“Goddammit, I hate him so much. He fucking hates kooks and now hes dating one? What the hell!”You cried. “I know, I know. But its not like hes ever been smart either, I mean come on, he broke up with you. He’s a goddamn idiot!’She tried to cheer you up. “Yeah, hes an idiot.”You agreed. “Hey, you wanna shrink his new shirt in the dryer?”She asked, relieved when you smiled. “Lets shrink his undies.”You suggested.

“Yeah, or we could sprinkle turmeric in his hat.”She thought out loud. “Or laxatives in his protein powder.”You laughed. “See, now you’re thinking.”She grinned. Its not like you’d actually do any of this but it still helped to talik about it. The two of you went on. Shit in his shoes, food coloring on his toothbrush, cream cheese in his deodorant.

But you're so unaffected, I really don't get it

But I guess good for you

“Can I borrow your phone charger?”He asked one day. You handed it over, not saying anything. “Are you good?”He asked, raising an eyebrow. You nodded, scrolling on instagram. “Okay.”He replied, not pushing any further. Back when he still cared he wouldve asked you what was wrong until you got mad at him, and then he’d tickle you until you werent bitchy anymore. You were so tempted to ask him when he had stopped loving you and what you had done wrong, holding yourself back from saying anything. Your heart thumped as you contemplated whether or not to ask, deciding against it.

Well, good for you, I guess you're gettin' everything you want (ah)

You bought a new car and your career's really takin' off (ah)

It's like we never even happened

Baby, what the fuck is up with that?

Everytime he showed up to the Chateau he was wearing something new. A new watch that he had once dreamed of stealing, a chain that he had seen through the window of a jewelry store while the two of you were on a date on the mainland. And eventually he had a car of his own. It was a dark blue convertible that had come from god knows where. HYou wondered if maybe he was just yusing Lia for her wealth. That’s what it had seemed like.

None of you were even introduced to her yet. Maybe it was because he didnt want his worlds to collide or maybe he didnt want to hurt your feelings. But you highly doubted the second one. The only way you found out who she was was on his instagram. It was something that he rarely posted on and when he did he put an ugly, grainy filter over his photos.

The one that he posted of Lia was of the two of them in his convertible with her kissing his cheek. She was beautiful. Long dark braids, glowing skin and a perfect smile. You had tapped on the photo, finding her account. 347k followers. She was an instagram model and she volunteered at animal shelters. Such bullshit.

Nobody could actually be that perfect, right? She hadnt posted anything about JJ, something that stood out as a red flag to you. The sad part was that JJ had never once posted you on his instagram. There was no evidence to the world outside of your friend group that the two of you ever knew eachother. It was ridiculous.

And good for you, it's like you never even met me

Remember when you swore to God I was the only

Person who ever got you?

The longer he and Lia were together the less he hung out with the pogues. He would see you guys maybe twice or three times a week at most, always on figure eight and running around the large neighborhoods. You wondered if Lia thought you were a crazy ex, if she would be jealous of you and JJ hanging out and maybe thats why he wasnt around you guys as much.

He didnt talk to you anymore, didnt open your snapchats or read your texts. You remembered back when he would talk to you for hours with his arms around your waist and tell you every little detail of his day. “I swear to fucking god, nobody gets me like you do.”He had smiled. “Really?”You had asked, kissing his forehead. He hummed, pulling you closer to him.

Well, screw that and screw you

You will never have to hurt the way you know that I do

JJ hadnt come around all week until a thursday evening while the others were out at the store grabbing snacks. He had shouted a quick hello when he walked in the door, confused when the others werent there. “Get out, JJ.”You told him, almost surprised by your own words. “Someones angry.”He commented, pushing your feet aside so that he could sit down on the couch only for you to kick him in the leg.

“Im serious, get out.”You repeated. “Christ, (Y/N). What the fuck is your problem?”He asked, still not taking you seriously. “You’re the fucking problem JJ.”You raised your voice. “Oh come on, (Y/N). You’re not still angry about that, are you?”He asked. You stared at him for a moment, taking a deep breath. “Yes, JJ. I am still angry about that. Did you ever think about how I feel? You havent even asked me how im doing or- or what my plans are. You’ve barely even looked my direction in weeks! And you’re asking me if im still angry!’You screamed at him.

“(Y/N), im sorry but I dont know what you want me to do. I’ve moved on.” He replied. His voice was flat, no sympathy or anything. “I want you to leave.”You told him, watching as he stood up. “Fine, asshat. I’ll leave.”He glared at you before heading for the door.

The next time he walked through the door was two weeks after you had screamed at him. You and the others were in the living room watching Starstruck and sitting in your bathing suits and wet hair as you sipped supermarket brand sodas. But this time he had Lia behind him, a grin on his face. “Hey guys.”He had announced, the four of you looking over.

@nas-marie-loves-u @28cnn @sexytholland @yuxsh06 @ifilwtmfc @cherryobx @poguestarkey @n1ghtsh4d3-67 @poguestyleskye @judayyyw @sunwardsss @meaganjm @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @jj-fic-recs @homophobicclownmoviestan @jj-iz-bae @natalie-kate-98 @negativity4you @nxsmss @ofmaybankheart @broken-jj @joshy-obx @curroptbunnie @outerbnx-stiles @angelreyesgirl100 @hannahhh-marie @sadnessrehab @purple-vodka-99 @annmariek8 @harryswigss @imagines-07 @pink-meringues @lostaurorax @cheshirecat107 @outerbongs @copper-boom @httpstarkey @teenwaywardasgardian @deionswannabegirl@simonsbluee @jiaraendgame @khiaraaa-in-spacee @on-socks-off @abbiesthings @kindahavefeelingskindaheartless @lostaurorax @batcat46

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#JJ Imagine #jj x reader #JJ smut #jj headcanon #jj maybank x you #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank headcanon #rudy pankow #outer banks fanfiction #jj outer banks

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saltyhyunjae · 3 years ago

Text

THE STEALER CHAPTER ONE: PULL THE TRIGGER

genre/warnings: angst, fluff, slow burn, enemies to lovers (?), kidnapping, criminal!tbz, mentions of guns & knives, quick mention of suicide

word count: 2,5k

summary: As y/n is leaved to close the store on her own, the last thing that she expects, happens to her

pairing: tbz x fem reader

“Y/n! You’re closing the store tonight, I have an emergency at home and I need to get going.” You hear your boss, Jiyoo yell from the back of the store as you put some new clothing items up on the racks. You sigh. “Okay!” You yell back at her and look at the time. 8:30PM. The store closes at 9 so you won’t be alone for a long time.

“The store is super quiet right now so I'm sure you can handle the last 30 minutes on your own.” Jiyoo smiles as she walks towards the entrance of the store. ‘I hope so.” You smile back.

She tells you to put the money in the safe and clean the store a bit and then quickly leaves the store, leaving you alone with 2 customers and the loud music of the speakers playing Bad Guy by Billie Eilish.

After the last customers leave, you look at the time again, 9:58. You make your way to the entrance to close the door and turn off the lights so nobody starts knocking, begging you to let them in, then you tidy some stuff up as you make your way back to the counter. As you reach the counter the radio switches to the news.

“The infamous criminal group ‘The Boyz’ have gotten away with yet another robbery just yesterday making it their 12th theft of the month. The police still have not been able to catch them due to the group's large number of members.”

You sigh. Instead of partying with your friends on this friday night you have been put in charge to close the store. “I don’t get paid enough for this.’ you murmur as you grab the money they earned today and start counting them. The sound of something falling shakes you out of your thoughts.

“What the- oh it’s just the broom that fell.” Just as you are about to go back to counting you hear a faint thud in the storage room. “Ok, I'm getting really scared now.” You whisper to yourself.

You decide to shake it off and go back to counting when you suddenly feel cold metal against the back of your head.

Oh fuck.

“Put the money down,''

You hear a male voice say. You do what he says as you start praying internally. You then feel a sharp object pressed against your lower back.

“Listen up, as long you’re doing as we say, you’re not gonna get hurt.”

‘That’s what they always say.’ You think but would never dare to say out loud. You’re on the verge of tears thinking this is your last day when you hear another thud.

“OW!” You hear another voice yell.

“Dumbass.” You hear another voice say.

‘How many of these motherfuckers are there.’ You think

“Grab some stuff over there.” You hear the one holding a gun against your head say as you see another figure grabbing the money you just dropped on the counter.

“I can’t see shit in here.” One of the voices further away from you says.

“Turn the lights on hyung!” The other one says.

You flinch as the lights turn on. Not daring to look at thieves. No Y/n u need to remember their faces just in case they actually don’t kill you. As you look up you make eye contact with the one that took the money. Your eyes widen at how handsome he is. “Bring us to the safe.” The one holding the knife against your lower back says. You slowly turn around making eye contact with the one holding the gun.

Shit, he’s handsome too.

You slowly start walking to the storage room.

“Changmin! Eric! We’ll be right back, grab everything you can!” Gun guy says.

When you arrive at the storage room, you walk to the safe and kneel in front of it, the three guys still behind. As you type in the code you hear a walkie talkie go off followed by another voice.

“What is taking so long.”

“Shut up, we just got to the safe. Anybody nearby?” The one without a weapon, as far as you know then, asks.

“No, it’s dead, everyone is going out a few blocks away.”

“Give us 10 minutes.”

“Fine.”

You take the money out and hand it to knife guy, who puts it in a bag.

“Please don’t kill me.” You plead.

“We won’t.” Gun guy says.

“Hyunjae, come with me. Juyeon, keep an eye on her.” Gun guy commands as he walks away with Hyunjae.

You took the opportunity to look at knife guy, Juyeon.

Fuck, he’s beautiful too.

You guys just stay there in silence till the two guys come back into the storage room. But this time they came back with the two other guys.

“Plan changed, we’re taking you with us.” Hyunjae says. Your eyes widen and you try to get up and escape. Just as you get up, Juyeon grabs your left arm, pulls you back and holds the knife against your neck.

“Do as we say and you will not get hurt.” Gun guy says. Your hands get tied behind your back and you decide to give in and follow the guys outside.

“Took you long enough.” You see three other guys waiting outside. One shows a bored expression, the other is very tall and the last is...very cute? They’re all handsome too. You mentally cry.

“Who’s that?” The ‘cute’ one says with a softer voice. “Our new friend.” Hyunjae smirks. You internally scoff as they walk you to the bus. When they open the bus you see three more guys.

How many of them can there be?!

“Hi, ooohh who’s that.” One of them behind a huge computer screen says.

“They brought a souvenir.” The tall guy that was waiting outside laughs.

They put you in the car and start driving. Tears are threatening to leave your eyes as you think about your friends and family. What if you get killed? Or they never let you go? or even worse… you get Stockholm syndrome?!?!

“What’s your name?” The ‘cute’ one with a soft voice asks you. You still look down refusing to talk.

“Cat caught your tongue.” Hyunjae scoffs.

“I’m jacob.” The one with a soft voice says, you look up to see him give you a soft smile.

“Y/n.” You murmur and the boys start introducing themselves to you. You nod at them and for the rest of the car ride you stay quiet.

After maybe 45 minutes the car stops and they open the door and help you get out. You look up to see a huge villa remote from the city. You guys make your way to the villa and once you're inside they guide you to the couch. They all sit across from you while Sangyeon stands.

“Y/n, do you happen to know who we are?” He asks

You slowly shake your head looking at the 11 boys. Wait. 11 boys? NO WAY! You suddenly remember the new reports for the last two months. You've been kidnapped by…

The Boyz.

You hear the boys laugh at your shocked expression.

“Listen up.” Sangyeon speaks up “It wasn’t in our plan to keep you hostage, but now that you’re here we’ve got to make the best of it haha. As you can see our house is very messy and we’re desperately in need of a cleaner. So we’ll point out your room for you to get some rest, you start tomorrow. Any questions.”

“I don't have any clothes to wear besides these.”

“Well thank God we robbed a clothing store.” Kevin laughs.

“We’ll make sure to buy all the necessities you need.”Sangyeon assures you. He tells you what time they’ll come and wake you up and commands Jacob and Kevin to bring you to your room while Changmin grabs some bed sheets and pillows.

As they open the door to your new room, you see that it’s huge and empty with only curtains and an empty bed in the middle of it.

“You can decorate as time goes by.” Kevin tells you and you nod. Changmin comes in with the pillows and bed sheet and the 3 boys help u set up the bed.

Once your bed is all made up, Younghoon comes in with two pairs of pajamas and some normal clothes for you to wear. All hail one size fits all clothes. Once you put on your pajamas, you lie in bed and think about everything that has just happened until you fall asleep.

—————————————————

The sun shining through your curtains wakes you up. You groan in annoyance, put a pillow over your head and close your eyes again. Right as you begin to doze off again, your door opens. “It’s time to get up.” You hear someone say. You turn around to see Chanhee standing at your door. “Be downstairs in 30 minutes” He says, closing the door again. As you get up, you get a moment of realization.

You’ve been kidnapped…… YOU’VE BEEN KIDNAPPED! YOU NEED GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE.

But how.

While you get dressed you think of all the ways you could escape. Jump out of the window? Suicide. Grab a knife and kill them? You would already have been killed before you stabbed one of them. Sneak out of the house while they’re sleeping? PERFECT. But you needed to stay a bit to figure out the plan in detail. You need to know your way out and their sleeping schedule, you also need to gain their trust. You needed to be super nice to them for them to trust you.

You take a deep breath and step out of your room. When you arrive downstairs you see that all of the boys are awake. “Good Morning!” Haknyeon jumps up from the couch. “Good morning.” You respond back.

“Ah, you’re awake.” Sangyeon walks into the living room. “Sit down, I'll explain what you need to do.” He starts talking about you making their meals and doing their laundry followed by cleaning the whole house. You mentally sigh. This isn’t going to be easy.

Kevin introduces you to the kitchen and offers to help with making breakfast.

“Haknyeon, stop it!” Kevin grabs the spoon that Haknyeon is about to dip in the soup.

For the third time.

“I’m just tasting it for you guys.”

“You’ve tasted enough, get out!” Haknyeon pouts as he walks out of the kitchen, making you giggle.

“So, Kevin, how many times a week do you guys go out to steal?” “Hmm, maybe five to six times a week. Why?” He looks up at you. “Oh just wondering.” You lie. “Must be tiring.”

You continue to make the soup while wondering if it was possible to escape while they’re out stealing. You decide to ask Kevin for more information and he tells you that it usually takes 30 minutes to an hour for them to finish a small mission and that bigger missions sometimes take up to three hours.

He also tells you that he, Haknyeon and sunwoo are in charge of hacking, Younghoon, Jacob and Chanhee are always on the watch and Sangyeon, Hyunjae, Juyeon, Eric, and Changmin are the ones in action.

—————————————————

“Wow this is good!” Eric says, stuffing his mouth with the soup you and Kevin made.

I should’ve put poison in it, you think to yourself.

“So Y/n, tonight we have another mission and since we can’t trust you alone in this house we have to take you with us from now on.” Sangyeon speaks up.

Fuck.

“Sure” You simply say. “So what’s tonight’s mission about, hyung?” Changmin asks. “Tonight we’re robbing the new shoe store in town.”

And they all go crazy

“Finally! I needed new Jordan's.” Eric jumps up from his seat. “We should rob a Balenciaga store next.” Sunwoo sighs. After the boys finally calm down and finish their breakfast, you go wash the dishes while they prepare for tonight’s robbery.

Finally the time has broken for tonight’s mission. While in the car, Sangyeon instructs you to stay in the car with the hackers while the rest of them go to their usual position. When it’s time for the rest to leave the car, you lean back and sigh.

You have no phone, no nothing, all you can do is pray you get out of this situation soon.

“I see you’re enjoying yourself.” Sunwoo chuckles. “Leave her alone Sunwoo. Why don’t you come and look at how we work?” Kevin motions for you to sit next to him.

You sit in between him and Haknyeon and look up at the huge screen. Kevin clicks on a couple of things and all of a sudden a bunch of security camera screens pop up. In one of them you see Jacob, Younghoon and Chanhee on the lookout while the rest make their way around the back of the building.

“If I click on this, all the footage of tonight will be deleted, but I'll do that after the guys come back.” He points at a key on his keyboard. “Now we have to crack the password. Haknyeon?”

You look at your right to see Haknyeon click on a bunch of keys to reveal the password.

“1206” He says, and Sunwoo repeats it into the walkie talkie.

After 30 minutes the rest rushes back in the car with a bunch of bags full of shoes and money.

“We almost got caught.” Eric pants out of breath.

“I saw no one in the store though?” Kevin asks, while deleting the camera footage.

“There was this old lady walking in the alley and Eric started freaking out” Hyunjae huffs.

“So an old lady walking in a dark alley in the middle of the night isn’t sus?!” Eric yells, making the others laugh.

When you guys arrive ‘home’, you decide to go to sleep first because you're exhausted. When you lie in your bed, you fall asleep almost immediately.

—————————————————

“I’m kinda getting bored of robbing, I need more thrill.” Changmin lay’s down on the couch.

“Yeah me too, I want some adrenaline.” Eric plops down next to him. “Try jumping off a cliff.” “Not funny, Sunwoo.”

“Oh! I have an idea!” Haknyeon jumps up. “Y/n is our maid now, right?” “Maid.” Younghoon snorts. “She’s cute, right? And we steal stuff, right?”

“Get to the point.” Sangyeon sighs.

“Let’s steal her heart.”

Hyunjae burst out laughing. “Are you insane? Why would we do that? That sounds so dumb.”

“You guys said you were bored and this sounds like a fun mission to me.”

“I agree, this could be fun.” Eric jumps up from the couch.

“So you wanna make her fall in love with one of us?” Jacob sits up. “Why would she do that, we’re holding her hostage.” Sunwoo laughs.

“That’s what makes it hard and more of a fun mission!”

“And when does the winner get?” Sangyeon speaks up.

“We have to do anything for that person for two whole years.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Hyunjae scoffs.

“I like the idea, I'm with Haknyeon.” Juyeon sides with the younger one.

“Fine it’s a good distraction, we need to get off the radar for a week, the police are still on our heels.” Sangyeon gives in while Haknyeon and Eric cheer.

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griffintail · 4 years ago

Note

I had this idea, I dunno if it’s dumb or not, but I figured if anyone knew it would be you! Y’know, cause you seem like you know way more than me about all these mcyt guys and gals? Anyways, I saw that a lot of people headcanon that Shlatt was Tubbo’s dad, and seeing all those dad!Shlatt AUs gave me an idea:

What if after Shlatt’s dead, after things have settled, after Tubbo becomes president and spends most of his time cleaning up the messes and mistakes Shlatt left behind- he discovers he wasn’t Shlatt’s only child. He finds handwritten letters in Shlatt’s files from a distant village, all of them fairly recent, asking him for child support money, or asking him to take “his mistake” with him. But the last letter Tubbo finds is a typed one informing Shlatt that the woman who sent all the previous letters has died, and that he has 1 month to come collect his child, or they’ll become a ward of the state; it’s been roughly 2 and a half weeks since that letter arrived. How would Tubbo react to all of this, and more importantly, would he take on the responsibility of becoming his new sibling’s guardian?

I don’t know how I became the person to come to for this lol. I hope you enjoy!

The Girl with the Horns

Pairings: Brother! Tubbo x Child! F! Reader

Warnings: Mentions of emotional abuse, Implied Buillying, Swearing

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

Tubbo looked up the old White House building, taking a deep breath before going in. Inside, he immediately scrunched up his nose at the familiar smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke.

“Damn it, dad.” He muttered under his breath before starting to clean up the building.

He said he’d clean the building out himself as his father was the one who trashed it and now was that day. A lot of his presidency was cleaning up Schlatt’s mistakes before he even ran the rest of his new country. He sighed as he put another empty bottle in a trash bag. Schlatt had really lost it running things.

Slowly but surely, Tubbo was able to get the White House to a much cleaner state. He was now in the main office and was searching the drawers for his father's inevitable “secret” booze stashes when he found some handwritten letters tucked in the very back of the drawer. Frowning, Tubbo took them out and saw them all addressed to Schlatt.

Sitting down, Tubbo read the letter on top and his eyes went wide, back going straight as he reread the words before him.

I want money for this child you helped bring into this world!

A child?

The rest of the letter was talking about asking for child support and Tubbo was floored. Quickly, he read the next letter and it was much of the same, demanding Schlatt to take responsibility.

“Holy shit…” Tubbo muttered. “I got…I got a sibling?”

He made his way through the rest of the letters, his heart clenching when the woman writing the letters called his poor sibling a mistake or made stabs at Schlatt.

Then the last letter was a lot more formal. It was stamped with an official seal and dated. Schlatt had opened it as told by the broken seal but had obviously also put the letter back without a care after reading. Tubbo’s breath hitched as he read the letter though.

Dear Mr. Jschlatt:

We are sorry to inform you Miss Trentha has passed in an accident.

Behind, she has left a five-year-old (Y/N), of which in our records has your name on her birth papers. We will give you a month’s time to make a decision; after, we will have no choice but to send (Y/N) to become a ward of the state.

Tubbo quickly looked at the date of when the letter was sent.

“Two and a half weeks!” Tubbo exclaimed as he jumped up. “Shit! What should I do?”

He looked around the office he had spent time cleaning trying to process everything at once, words failing him. In a few short moments, he had found out he wasn’t an only child, that Schlatt hadn’t even looked back at this girl or her horrible mother, and that the sibling he just found out about was going to become a ward of the state! Schlatt had at least been kind enough to Tubbo to let Philza raise him but this child going into the adoption system…

“I-I got to run L’Manberg. There’s so much to do.” Tubbo ran a hand through his hair as he panicked.

But then Tommy’s words echoed in his head.

You can’t become the next Schlatt.

Schlatt was obviously going to let this child fend for themselves, Tubbo couldn’t be his father. He had to at least meet them. With a new will, he gathered around his friends, and with reassurances that they had L’Manberg covered, Tubbo set off on a horse to the village. It was a good three-day journey, so he’d only have roughly a week left to make his decision of what he was going to do.

Coming to the village, Tubbo took a deep breath as he stared at it. What was she going to be like? She probably didn’t have the best raising based on the letters that the mother sent. Tying up the horse outside the main hall, Tubbo went in, going through the various processes to prove that he was indeed Jschlatt’s child and proving that his father was dead.

After, they took Tubbo to a home where a bunch of children were outside playing but there was one that stood out among them and it wasn’t because she was sitting alone. It was because she had tiny horns on top of her head that were just starting to come in. Tubbo put a hand on his horns that were just starting to curl without thinking.

“That’s (Y/N).” The man that led him here nodded to the little girl.

“She’s five, right?” Tubbo asked.

“Yes. She’s not very talkative, but you can introduce yourself to her.”

Tubbo had few guesses why she didn’t want to talk. He went over, a few of the other kids were pointing at him. (Y/N) was using a stick to push images in the dirt, looking up when a shadow got in the way of the sun. Tubbo smiled when he saw her surprise when she looked up at him, he sitting next to her, wearing his casual wear rather than his suit.

“Hi. I’m Tubbo.” He introduced himself to her.

(Y/N) was silent as she stared obviously at his horns. “You have horns…”

“Yeah, I do. I’m a ram just like you.”

“Really?” She met his eyes now.

“Mhm. I, uh, I actually knew your dad because he was my dad.”

She shifted as she looked back at the ground. “Daddy was a bad man.”

Tubbo winced, putting a hand on his neck. “Why do you say that?”

“Mommy use to say that.”

“Ah. Well…dad wasn’t the greatest, I agree. It wasn’t nice for him to leave you alone.”

The little girl was silent and Tubbo tried to think of a subject change.

“Do you like drawing?”

She nodded. “Mommy wouldn’t let me use paper but I like drawing in the dirt.”

“Oh…do you…have any friends?”

She put a hand on one of her little horns and he immediately understood.

“I get it.” He smiled gently, putting a hand on his horn. “I didn’t have a lot of friends until I met my best friend Tommy. I’m sure you will find some friends.”

His heart melted as she gave him her first small smile. “I hope so.”

He sat with her just talking away, the time passing so fast without either of them knowing as they talked. He felt like he learned so much but so little about her; yet, he loved every moment sitting with her. She had to go back with the other children of the orphanage but within a few hours, Tubbo made up his mind. He couldn’t leave this little girl with everyone else; he’d take her back to L’Manberg.

So, in the morning, Tubbo put on his suit to be professional and he did the paperwork before waiting for them to bring (Y/N). (Y/N) came in timidly and Tubbo smiled gently as he crouched in front of her.

“Hey, so, I don’t want to leave without you, would you like to come with me? I can introduce you to a few of my good friends.”

“…They’re all nice like you, right?”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, a few of them are pretty nice.”

She looked around but nodded. “Ok.”

He grinned as he stood up. “Then I’m going to take you back to my home.”

They got the few things that she owned and Tubbo put them on the horse. After, Tubbo changed into more appropriate riding clothes before getting on with (Y/N).

“Alright, here we go.” He muttered before getting the horse to go.

Off they went to L’Manberg, Tubbo making sure they had shelter each night. It was a bit stressful for Tubbo on these few days. He had gotten used to not eating every day but he had to remember now to make sure (Y/N) ate. He also had to remember this was boring as hell for her so he tried his best to make little games as they galloped along. There was a point he went off on a bee tangent for half an hour after spotting one and pouted to himself when he saw (Y/N) had fallen asleep against him but he kept an arm wrapped around her so she didn’t fall off.

As he got back to L’Manberg, he huffed as he saw Tommy and Fundy arguing as Quackity was laughing, Ranboo standing to the side awkwardly. Yeah, that’s how he expected his cabinet to act with him gone. He tied up his horse, grabbing (Y/N)’s things before taking her hand as he walked over to them. As the pair went over, (Y/N) hide behind him shyly.

“Guys!” Tubbo called.

“Tubbo! Tell this furry bitch—” Tommy started.

“Oh, fuck off Tommy!” Fundy shouted back.

They started having another go.

“GUYS!” Tubbo shouted, making (Y/N) jump with the rest of the group. “I have someone for you to meet, so can you shut it?”

Tommy spotted the little girl peeking out from behind Tubbo, noticing the horns first.

“Holy shit, she has horns like yours.” Tommy went around Tubbo.

“Yeah, this is (Y/N), she’s my little sister.”

“A sister?!” Tommy looked at Tubbo surprised.

Tubbo nodded. “I adopted her.”

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s a long story but I’m back and I’m got to bring her to my house,” Tubbo told them before walking off, feeling the little girl squeeze his hand tighter, probably getting overwhelmed.

They got to Tubbo’s house and he looked around.

“Er…You can have my room. I’ll need to make you a room.” He smiled at her.

“Ok…thank you.”

He patted her head between her horns. “I couldn’t leave you behind sis. Let’s get you settled in and I can make us some steak. Sound good?”

She nodded.

Tubbo knew it would be stressful learning to take care of another human while he had to run a nation but he had his friends to help him. He hoped he could do all this right.

#mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #mcyt fanfiction #tubbo x reader #dreamsmp #dreamsmp x reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years ago

Text

let me be your ruler.5

Warnings: guns, dubcon, noncon, fingering, treats.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Pairing: (dark!mob!) Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: You find more to worry about than just Peter.

Note: We get the long awaited update for mob Peter and I hope you like this twisted little chapter! Tomorrow Zemo and Wednesday the finale of Birch!Loki. I’ll try to keep up with Zemo and go back to an old series and try to pick away more at finish WIPs.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Masterlist

Peter’s intensity did not let up. If anything, he grew more insistent and more suffocating. After the pool, there was the bed, then the shower, then another romp that kept you from logging into your work email. You were sore and drained by the time you laid down, too exhausted to try to wriggle away from him as he joined you and kept his arm over you as you drifted off.

You woke to him drinking coffee and looking out at the lush property. He wore only a pair of short boxers, his muscles lined perfectly along his bent arm and firm stomach. You let out a soft breath and rolled onto your back.

Your thighs brushed together and made you squirm. You thought once he had his fun, he might let up. You could not predict this man in anything.

“You want a coffee?” he asked as he turned away from the windows, “I’ll send for one. Latte? Mocha?”

“Mmmph,” you grumbled and sat up carefully.

Those cocktails went down too easy and added to the weight in your head and limbs. The alcohol made him bearable, made your new reality palatable. You were naked still. You held the sheet to your chest and he went to the dresser and pulled out the drawer with his free hand. He dangled the long camisole gown before you as he neared.

“I hate to cover such a pretty woman up but I think we’ve exposed my staff to enough of our fun,” he held the thin straps over a single finger.

You reached for it and he drew it just away from your grasp. He bent and his dark eyes clung to yours, “not a good morning kiss?” he taunted.

You leaned forward and pecked his lips. He purred and stood, draping the silk over your lap.

“So, coffee?” he asked again.

“With just a little milk,” you answered as you pulled on the nightgown and turned your legs over the edge of the bed. Every part of you was stiff, “thank you.”

“You’re learning, princess,” he praised, “such sweet manners.”

You stood and crossed your arms. He chuckled and nudged your chin with his knuckle playfully. He pulled on a robe and knotted it loosely around his body. He went to the door and hit the button right beside the frame. A knock came shortly and he handed over his empty mug and requested one for you.

“I was thinking, we’d extend our stay a while,” he said as he turned back to the room, “I need a break from the city… but if you’re good, I’ll let you invite your friends. They’re nice girls.”

“Is that a suggestion or an order?” you asked dully.

“Both,” he smirked at you as he came closer and wrapped his arms around you, “you’re starting to get it, princess.”

You searched his face and held back a sigh. His brown eyes were smokey as his hands slipped down to your ass.

“I’ll need them around to distract my guests,” he purred.

“Guests?” you turned your arms and planted them firmly against his chest as he bent to kiss your neck. He ignored you easily as he swayed you with him.

“I was woken up early by a call,” he spoke against your skin, his lips sending shivers through you, “we got today and tomorrow, then those two goons will be joining us. I can get away but…” he raised his head and ran his hands up your sides and along your arms, pulled them over his shoulders, “business is business… we can still fit in a little play.”

You stiffened and swallowed. Your brows furrowed and you slanted your lips as you looked past him.

“You mean Bucky?”

“And Steve,” he filled in, “you don’t get one without the other.”

“I thought you guys were all… sorted out,” you said quietly.

“Ah, princess, you don’t know the half of it,” he cooed, “let’s keep it that way. Better for everyone.”

You nodded. He was right, you knew whatever he did was unsavoury and you didn’t need the details. You knew what he was capable of. A flash of fear went through you as you recalled the barrel of his gun pointed at you.

“I don’t wanna do that again, princess,” he uttered as if he could read your mind, “so… let’s not. Give the girls a call.”

A tap came at the door and he parted. He opened it and took the mug from the servant and brought it to you. You took it as the scent promised to fend off the ache behind your eye. You sat in one of the upholstered chairs and took a cautious sip. He watched you with a grin and bit his lip.

“Better finish that fast,” he warned, “coffee stains don’t come easy.”

You eyed him as he pushed open his robe and you saw the bulge twitch in his boxers. You kept your face placid, not wanting to provoke him. What exactly were you holding onto? He already had your whole life in the palm of his hand.

✨

Halle was more than overjoyed to accept your invitation but Molly passed as she wanted to hang out with Charlie. Desiree said it would be good for her as her co-worker turned out to be a total waste of time.

You hated that you were doing this to your own friends; using them as bait. Peter made it clear that they were welcome only on the condition that they could be an ends to his means. ‘Tell them to bring bikinis’, he insisted before you made the call.

Your second morning at the beach house was just as heavy as the first. The day before was filled with Peter’s incessant touching and another dip in the pool that ended in his delight. The staff was set to cleaning the pool once more in preparation of the guests. You were embarrassed as the servers, cleaners, and chef were all too aware of your activities.

Peter left you after a quick shower and you were thankful for the chance to wash on your own. He pecked your lips as he held his phone to his ear and squeezed your ass before he went.

You stood beneath the steamy stream of the faucet and melted beneath it. You came out slightly refreshed and wrapped yourself in a plush towel.

You went into the bedroom and sorted through the second drawer as you searched for something more comfortable than showy. There wasn’t much you could categorize as practical. You heard the door creak and didn’t look up as droplets cooled on your arms and you pulled a yellow sun dress out of the closet instead.

“That’s a good colour for you,” the voice made you freeze and you glanced over at the open door.

You assumed it was Peter or the wind, but the man who filled the doorframe with his thick shoulders, made your chest tight. Bucky stood with his arm against the wood as he leaned nonchalantly and leered at you.

“Wh-when did you get here?” you stuttered as you held your towel tight and shielded yourself with the dress.

“Just a couple minutes ago,” he smiled, “I was just looking for the bathroom but…” he tilted his head as his voice trailed off and his eyes ventured down your body, “...think I found something better.”

“Get out,” you hissed, “or I’ll shout.”

“Why? I’m not doing anything… just watching,” his lips curled lasciviously, “and you are fun to watch.”

“What-- I said, get out, Bucky,” you snarled as you stomped over to him.

You pushed on his thick arm, the muscle firm as it peeked out from beneath his short-sleeve button-up. He didn’t budge as he loomed over you.

“Your man likes to treat me like some errand boy. Sent me off to keep an eye on you. Boring, at first, all those months following you around to cafes and grocery stores,” he reached out and cradled your chin. You tried to pull away but he gripped your jaw firmly and held you in place, “but those things you do when you think you’re all alone… I was tempted to lend a hand but… business.”

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you grabbed his wrist and wrenched it away, “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about--”

“That little pink dildo, well, not very little is it?” he licked his bottom lip, “I thought he would’ve told you. He’s a careful man. He plans ahead. I respect that, at least.”

“Go!” you shoved him in mortification, “or I’ll scream right now and you know Peter won’t be happy--”

“Calm down, little girl,” he scoffed, “don’t get so worked up. I’m not that stupid…” he squared his jaw and raised a brow wryly, “but he will get careless and I’ll still be watching.”

He winked and turned away slowly. You quickly closed the door as he retreated down the hallway and you locked it with a shaky hand. You staggered back blindly and sat heavily on the cushioned bench at the foot of the bed.

How long had Bucky been hounding you? How long had Peter had his eye on you? Your heart raced at the realisation of how deep in you truly were. You could deal with one, but two? You were well and truly fucked.

✨

You tried to hide in the bedroom until your friend arrived but Peter dragged you out to welcome his guests over breakfast by the pool. You sat quietly and picked at the fruit plate until they excused themselves for more business. You were grateful as you didn’t miss Bucky’s fleeting looks.

Halle and Desiree arrived just after noon. The men were locked away in the parlor so you greeted them as they approached the walk, beach bags on their arms and rolling suitcases bouncing up the stones.

“Oh my god, girl,” Halle chirped, “he sent a car and everything.”

“Thank god, my old piece of shit wouldn’t have made it this far,” Desiree added, “oh, you look so good. I love that dress.”

“Thanks,” you sniffed, “um, I hope you guys don’t mind staying on the second floor. Peter’s staff just got the rooms ready--”

“Staff?” Halle swooned, “you hooked in a real sugar daddy.”

“No, I-- Halle,” you sneered, “it’s not--”

“I’m teasing,” she giggled, “but come on, look at this place.”

“Mm, well there is another hitch,” you said as you led them inside.

Two staff members approached and offered to take their bags. They gave you silent looks of amazement as they handed over their luggage and you rolled your eyes.

“So, what’s the hitch? Don’t tell me the pools out of order,” Desiree whined.

“No, pool’s just been cleaned, but… we have company,” you said tritely, “couple of Peter’s… friends. I’m sure they won’t bother you but--”

“Are they hot?” Halle asked.

“Are you serious?” you blinked.

“I’m so serious. I need to get laid. Bad.”

“And a stranger is the best choice for that?” you scoffed.

“If he’s cute,” she shrugged.

“It’s an important question,” Desiree seconded, “I can’t keep dating boys. You won’t believe what this asshole did.”

“I dunno,” you waved off the question, “how about I show you around first and then we can get to all that later.”

“Ooo, yes,” Halle clapped, “this place is huge.”

“Alright, well, we can’t go in the parlour right now but you won’t really be in there anyway,” you ushered them forward, “the pool’s just through here…”

✨

When at last the girls were settled in, you waited by the pool as they went to change into their suits. You requested some drinks from the staff and thanked them profusely as you felt entirely out of place asking anything of them. The fruity margaritas were left on the round table as you sat in the middle of a lounger.

“Uh, this place is gorgeous,” Halle declared as she came through the sliding doors, “oh my god, are those for us?”

You nodded as she swiped up a drink and sipped noisily from the straw. Desiree took her own but side-eyed Halle, “It’s barely one o’clock, slow down,” she chirped.

“It’s a vacation! Sort of. I had to use sick time for this so no Insta please,” Halle sang, “I can’t wait to get in.”

She set down her glass and strode over to the pool. She slid out of her sandals and dipped her toes in. She surprised you as suddenly she dove in and sent up a splash of water. Desiree giggled as she swallowed her mouthful and placed her drink beside Halle’s and raced over to join her.

You dragged yourself to your feet and sat at the side of the pool with only your legs in the water.

“Come on, don’t be such a party pooper,” Desiree splashed you.

“I’m not, I’m just… all pooled out right now,” you shrugged, “you guys have fun, I’m just happy to have you here.”

It wasn’t a lie. In those last two days when it was just you and Peter, you felt so completely isolated. Even if they were there to act as diversions, you were reassured to have a glimpse of your former life.

“You ladies look like you’re having fun,” Peter’s voice startled you and you looked over your shoulder as he emerged from the house, “drinking already?” He was dressed in his trunks already, “I hope you don’t mind, the guys were hoping to hop in too.”

“The guys,” Halle giggled.

“I told them we had company,” you assured Peter, “and uh, you know Halle, but this is Desiree.”

“A pleasure,” he said as he neared and sat beside you, “why aren’t you in there with them?”

“I will get in, I’m just… enjoying the sun.”

He hummed and put his hand over yours on the rim of the pool, “you okay?” he lowered his voice.

You squinted at him and nodded. He didn’t really care if you weren’t okay. He was only telling you to start acting like it.

You heard the others before they appeared. Peter introduced them as they came out and the girls were all too happy to have them sink into the pool with them. Peter nudged you and you slipped over the edge and he quickly followed. He caught you as you broke the surface and held you to him.

“They’re getting along,” he intoned.

“I still don’t get it,” you pressed against his chest as he waded you over to the other side of the pool, “why do you need them?”

“Part of the deal,” he said, “they want some fun too.”

“What? You mean--”

“The girls seem willing. They’re pretty enough and I wouldn’t say Bucky or Steve are hideous,” Peter chuckled, “it works for everyone.”

“You’re whoring out my friends for a deal?” you spat.

“Now, princess, watch it,” he curled his lip, “I’ve been patient, haven’t I?” he leaned into you and squished you between him and the wall of the pool, “if I was a worse man, I’d just let them have a taste of you… but you’re mine,” he kissed you roughly and drew back, “and so long as you are, you will only be mine. Understood?”

You swallowed and nodded. He relaxed and kept his arm around you as he came parallel to the pool wall and floated beside you. Steve and Desiree were chattering as she came back to the pool with her drink and Halle gabbed on at Bucky but his eyes weren’t on her. He smirked as he watched you and slowly dropped his gaze to your roommate.

“Maybe Bucky will chill out a little,” Peter grumbled as he pushed himself away from the side of the pool.

“Mm, maybe,” you let him pull you with him as he waded around the middle of the pool.

“Don’t worry so much,” he chided.

“How can I not? I hardly know these men and these are my friends, Peter,” you hissed, “I should’ve known.”

“And if you had, you still would have done what I said, princess,” he snipped, “why are you doing this? Everyone’s having fun so join the party.”

You thinned your lips and forced a smile. His eyes narrowed and he latched onto your arm. He pulled you with him to the large round steps along the far corner and you tried not to slip as you climbed out of the water. The others were too distracted to notice and as you glanced back, you found Desiree with her tongue down Steve’s throat.

“You don’t wanna have fun with them,” Peter dragged you into the house, “then we can have some of our own.”

“Not right now, Peter, please--”

“Listen, princess,” he spun and pulled you to him, “you’re not getting this. I’ve been nice. I bring you to my nice house, I send a car for your friends, I get you off… you need to start using that head instead of your mouth…” he eyed your lips, “well, the mouth is good for some things.”

You quivered in disgust and he turned as he forced you further down the hallway. He flung you through the bedroom door and you barely caught yourself on a chair. The door slammed as your damp feet slipped on the floor and you stood to face him.

“I’ve done you all these favours so you can do me one,” he hooked his thumbs in his shorts and pulled them down over the protrusion of his arousal.

You glanced away and he closed the distance between you. He grabbed your chin and made you look at him. He kissed you roughly and shoved you away. He stormed over to the bed and flopped down, his cock bobbing as he moved to recline against the pillows and exhaled loudly.

“Well…” he said.

You stared at him and the bitterness laced your muscles. You huffed and walked to the bed slowly. He stroked himself tauntingly as he smirked at you. You put a knee on the bed and braced yourself. There was a moment you were ready to run and not look back, but your friends were in his pool and the vision of his pistol pulsed in your head.

You climbed up and crawled to him. You sat back on your heels, just between his legs and he tutted, “now, princess, don’t give me that look.”

You wiped the anger from your face and closed your eyes. You grasped his dick and his hand fell away. You moved your hand up then down and tamped down your reservations. You bent over him and your lashes fluttered as your lips pressed to his tip. He gasped at the soft sensation and you stretched your lips around him.

He groaned and put his hand on your shoulder as he urged you down. He met the back of your throat and you eased back, wetting his length to ease the tension in your jaw. He gripped the back of your head impatiently and you strained to let him further as he invaded your throat. You gagged and he let you back only for a moment before he forced you back down.

You followed his motion, fast and deep, until the spit dripped down him and across your face. You clung to his thigh as you breathed with each retreat only to be smothered again. Your throat burned as your jaw ached as you kept your tongue firm to his length. The sloppy sucking mingled with his lusty moans and he held your head between both hands as he thrust from below.

He stopped you suddenly. Your head spun as he lifted you off of him and sat up to kiss you messily. He pushed you over as he got to his knees. You fell back and bounced on the bed as he parted your legs, bending on over his as he moved to straddle the other. You laid at an angle as his hand slid up your stomach to your neck.

He squeezed lightly as he pulled aside the crotch of your suit and angled his dick against your cunt. You moaned as he filled you and pressed his thumb to your clit. He kept his hand at your throat as he held you down and jerked his hips sharply. He jolted your body with each decisive thrust as he watched your face.

“You like sucking my dick, princess? Makes you so wet, huh?” he growled.

You grabbed his hand but he only gripped your throat more firmly. He bit down as he sped up, the mattress shaking beneath you with each tilt of his hips. He rammed into you hard and harder, your leg stretched up his torso as he kept astride your other.

He teased and toyed with your clit as he fucked you. You choked out raspy moans as the coil wound tight inside of you and your muscles knotted around him. Your eyes rolled back as you slapped at his bicep and clawed deep into his flesh as you came. You squirmed in your orgasm and he sped up.

He pulled his hand from your throat to hold your leg to his body. He kept playing with your bud as you groped your chest senselessly and your voice rose unrestrained around you. His deep grunt punctuated each airy cry from your lips and the entire bed rocked beneath your bodies.

“That’s it, that’s it,” he snarled, “oh, princess, that’s it.”

He sank deep and pulled his hips back in a series of cruel thrusts that made your hips throb painfully. Your walls squeezed him as you came again and you milked him as he spent himself inside of you. He slowed and stopped as he hung his head and the muscles in his chest and arms tautened.

“Shit,” he breathed and slipped out of you, flinching as his tip brushed against you.

You stayed as you were as he let your leg fall to the bed and he sat between your legs and pushed his hair away from his face. He sighed and shook out his arms as if to free himself of the tension.

“You’re so good, princess,” he felt along your cunt and played with his cum as it seeped from you, “aren’t you?”

✨

Shamefully, you left the room in a new swimsuit. The former was stained from Peter’s punishment and after cleaning up, he forced you out with a fake smile. You emptied your margarita and ordered another with less reticence than before. Steve and Desiree had disappeared as Bucky humoured Halle’s flirting on one of the loungers.

Dinner was awkward enough as you weren’t foolish enough to think that no one noticed or heard your absence. You emptied three more glasses and Peter excused the two of you as he kept you from a fourth. You wobbled back to the room ahead of him and fell onto the bed without changing out of your shorts and shirt.

“You’re mad again?” you bubbled drunkenly.

“You’re drunk,” he said as removed his watch and unbuttoned his shirt, “I don’t like that.”

“You don’t, ha?” you rolled onto your back, “that first night you had no problem feeling me up while I was--”

“Princess,” he snapped, “you can only blame the drink for so much.”

“You’re an ass,” you slurred and turned your back to him.

He huffed and the light went out. You felt the mattress dip behind you as he lowered himself next to you. He was stiff and didn’t try to touch you.

“I should spank you for that,” he muttered, “but you’re so fucking lit you wouldn’t remember it.”

“I feel good,” you murmured, “for once.”

He pinched you and the bed jostled as he rolled onto his side.

“Go to sleep,” he ordered.

He didn’t need to tell you twice as the alcohol weighted your eyelids and you were soon snoring carelessly into the pillow.

✨

You woke with a start as your stomach churned. It was still late as you clamoured out of the bed and ran for the bathroom. You hugged the bowl as you retched into it. Your body revolted and the alcohol came up with your dinner.

You shuddered as you caught your breath and flushed. You rinsed your mouth and steady yourself as you veins were thick from excess.

You stumbled back into the bedroom. Peter was asleep. His even breath rasped up into the dark. It was a rare moment of peace unsettled only by the memory of the day. You recalled his reproach before you fell asleep, you knew that wouldn’t be the end of it.

You groaned and crept to the door and let yourself out quietly into the hall. You went to the kitchen, tiptoeing through the dark, and filled a glass with water. You sipped but a noise pricked your ears. You listened as you kept your lips on the rim and drank to ease the fire in your stomach.

You followed the sound until it was too late to retreat. The whimpers and groans mixed and sent a tingle through you as you realised what was happening. You stopped in shock, frozen as you found Bucky and Halle in the immense front room. He had her bent over a round ottoman, her fingers curled at the seam as he rutted into her from behind.

She squealed each thrust as her head hung over the other side of the cushion. “Slow down,” she wisped, “please, I told you-- ugh, I never done it like this be--”

She cried out and bit into the cushion as he slapped her ass and fucked her harder, his other hand stretched between her shoulder blades. You took a step back and the movement caught his eye. He looked up and held your gaze as his face contorted into a sinister grin.

He sped up as he reached to smother her wails and held your gaze. You gripped the glass tightly and trembled as you backed away from the doorway. You spun and raced back to your room and tripped through the door.

You crashed to the floor and the glass shattered as water splashed around you. Peter sat up with a snort and reached to flip on the lamp at the bedside.

“What’s going on?” he asked sleepily.

“Just getting water,” you croaked as you sat back on your heels in the midst of the broken glass.

“Shit, did you cut yourself?” he asked as he saw you.

“No, no, I’m okay but-- stay there, you’ll get hurt. I’m close enough, I can… I’ll clean it up… I’m sorry.”

He stared at you and slowly nodded. The anger crinkled in his forehead and you stood carefully.

“So, now we know not to drink like that, huh?” he girded.

“I said, I’m sorry.”

“Mmhmm,” he leaned back against the headboard, “go on, princess, clean up your mess.”

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