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faster-faster-aster · 1 day

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Gold and Gravel ~2k words, marcnaia immediately post-Aragon 2024

Pecco has been watching the patch of sunlight on the wall of his motorhome change shade and shape for the last several hours. White fades to gold; the rectangle slants into a diamond as the sun slants towards the horizon. Good, he thinks. The sooner it sets, the sooner he can set this wretched weekend behind him.

If he closes his eyes, strains his ears to listen, he can still hear the cheers and chants of Marc’s fans. It’s not so loud, anymore— the roar giving way to a low and distant rumble, like thunder on the horizon. Going out like the tide, washing into the streets of Alcañiz. It will go on all night, he is sure of it. And maybe if things were different he’d be celebrating too— if he’d taken Acosta’s place, or better, Martin’s— if he had shared the podium with Marc again. Alex could have joined them too, but that possibility is gone now. Buried in the gravel, crushed somewhere in the mess of metal and limbs.

Pecco shudders. Shifts the ice pack on his shoulder that has long since melted. It’s not his fault, he knows. The stewards said it wasn’t, laid the blame evenly between them— but the guilt creeps in all the same. At very least he was too harsh on Alex after the race. He’d meant it then— hurting and angry and embarrassed— he wouldn’t say it now.

Because if he were better, he would have known not to take the risk. If he were better, he’d deserve the title he may as well have handed to Martin. If he were better, he wouldn’t have been battling Alex at all— would have been running at the front. Fighting with Marc, maybe, like they had three years ago.

He sighs. Maybe if he were better he would be able to rein in his thoughts, wouldn’t be sitting here spinning his wheels and going nowhere. He’ll be up all night, at this rate, unless Carola comes and drags him to bed.

There’s a knock at the door. Pecco winces as he pushes himself up onto his elbows. It’s probably Bez, he usually likes to stop by after a bad race, so he heaves himself the rest of the way up, walks stiffly to the door and opens it.

And stands there, blinking in surprise, because— it’s Marc, on the other side of the door, one hand fiddling with his watch.

It takes at least a minute for Pecco’s brain to reboot. When it does, all he’s able to say is a quiet, questioning, “Uh, hi?” because— this is the last place Marc should be, today.

“Hi,” Marc says. “Can… can I come in?” he asks, a moment later, and Pecco realizes he’s been blocking the doorway.

“Yeah, of course,” he says, stepping aside.

He follows Marc in, goes to the counter and sits on it. Marc leans on the table opposite him— Pecco watches as he glances over, as he frowns at the ice packs on the shelf by the couch, the half-empty packet of ibuprofen.

The guilt washes over him like a wave again, pools cold and heavy in his chest. The only reason why Marc would come here, when he should be off celebrating somewhere with his team, is because of the crash. Because of what Pecco had done to his brother, what he’d said about Alex afterwards. Marc must be here to bite back. Harder, Vale had said, now that he’s seen Pecco bleeding. And Pecco doesn’t want that— can’t stomach any cutting words from Marc when he’s heard them enough in his own head.

Marc opens his mouth but Pecco speaks first, ducking his head as he does. “If you’re here about Alex, I’m sorry,” he says, and it feels too much like baring his neck for slaughter, but he continues. “I was upset, hurting; the interview, what I said, I meant it then— but not anymore. I know he didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Pecco,” Marc starts, but he just shakes his head.

“And I— it was a stupid move. Too risky. Another lap and I could’ve caught him anyways, it was my mistake.”

“Pecco, I—” Marc starts to say again, but Pecco presses on. The longer he’s talking, the longer Marc isn’t— the longer he can delay the inevitable.

“I’ll apologize. Next chance I get, I will— I will walk it back. I don’t want to make trouble for him.” And that’s all he has to say— all his cards laid on the table. He clenches his jaw, grips the counter with white knuckles. Braces for the bite.

But Marc’s voice is soft as he says, “Pecco, look at me,” and it’s so unexpected— what can he do but lift his head?

Across from him, Marc is standing in the patch of sunlight he was watching earlier. It paints gold over the planes of him, his face, pools warm and honey-rich in the dark of his eyes. Catches in his hair like a glowing halo. Winning looks good on him— there is a weightlessness, an ease to him now that Pecco has never seen before, only marred by the concerned slant of his brow.

“I appreciate it— you should apologize to Alex,” Marc says, slow and measured, “but that is not why I am here.”

“Then why?” Pecco asks before he can stop himself. “You should be celebrating, no?”

“No, actually. We are leaving for Madrid in an hour— no time.”

Pecco must look confused because Marc waves his hand in a vague gesture and says, “Eh, I’m too old for all of that now. Maybe in a few years you’ll understand.”

Pecco just shakes his head. Doesn’t want to think about being Marc’s age, having to endure the same things he has. “You look— you looked fantastic all weekend,” he says instead. “On the bike,” he clarifies. “Even if it were just a few drinks, you would deserve it.”

He watches Marc’s reaction closely, half-hoping the praise will catch him off-balance like it does to Pecco. But Marc just smiles at him, all relaxed lines and incandescent teeth, and Pecco is the one knocked unsteady.

“Eh, maybe,” Marc says. “But look at you, distracting me again.”

Pecco just blinks at him. If he’s not here about Alex, or to fish for congratulations, then why the fuck is he here?

He must be making a face, because Marc laughs, shakes his head, and says, “Pecco, I came here to check on you.”

“What?” Pecco breathes, feeling like he’s suffocating under the bike again. Because that— that doesn’t make any sense. That’s not who Marc is, not ruthless or cunning like Pecco has come to expect. Surely it’s just another mind game.

But Marc sounds entirely genuine as he says, “The crash— I saw on the replay. It was bad for Alex but it looked worse for you.” He winces as his eyes flick down to the collar of Pecco’s shirt, where the bruising edges its way up his neck. “I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

Pecco shrugs. “It could have been worse— my helmet did not catch on the tyre,” he says, slow and measured, trying not to give too much away. “Both of us walked away from it. No broken bones.”

“That’s always good,” Marc says with a knowing look.

There’s a beat of silence between them. Marc seems unsatisfied, somehow, waiting for more— and maybe that’s the game, Pecco realizes. Offer a bit of vulnerability, see who flinches first. He hasn’t made a good counter to Marc yet, but he can.

“Still fucking hurts, though— I am very bruised,” he says. “Do you want to see?”

Marc perks up at that. “Sure,” he says casually, but the way he leans forward belies his interest.

So Pecco hops down from the counter, turns his back to Marc, and shucks his shirt off over his head, wincing as the movement strains his sore muscles.

He doesn’t dare look at Marc, but he hears his sharp intake of breath, how the table shifts as he stands. “Shit, Pecco,” he hisses as he steps closer and then—

Marc’s hand brushes the curve of Pecco’s shoulder blade, feather-light, testing. The sensation sings up his spine, sets him alight— he only just suppresses the urge to shiver. Because he knows what Marc must see, the pale skin of his back mottled purple from neck to tailbone; he’d caught a glimpse of it in the mirror and had to look away immediately, feeling ill. He’d hoped Marc would do the same.

But he seems to have no such reservations. He splays his hand out over the bruise, gently probing with his fingers. It feels— it feels good, Pecco thinks, the warmth and pressure like a soothing balm over the ache. He had tensed up, when Marc had touched him, but he relaxes into it as Marc rubs little circles down his spine. Then he reaches the small of Pecco’s back, where the skin is flushed pink, raw and irritated. It stings when Marc touches it, little jolts of pain, but then he presses down—

“Ah, fuck,” Pecco hisses, flinching away. “Gentle, please…”

“Sorry,” Marc says, and Pecco looks over at him, needs to know if that was intentional or not. But Marc does look genuinely contrite, brow furrowed in concern as he studies Pecco’s face. “I’m sorry,” he repeats, reaching out to rest his hand on Pecco’s shoulder. “That is— that is not a bruise, is it.”

“No, it’s not,” Pecco says. “It is a burn, from the exhaust— got me through the leathers.”

Marc makes a small sound, low in his chest, eyes flicking back up to Pecco’s face. Before he can react, Marc is sliding his hand up to the nape of his neck, pulling him down into a hug.

And he’s caught completely off-balance, again, stands there for a moment before it occurs to him that he should reciprocate. So he winds his arms around Marc’s back, feels him stroke a hand down his spine. Marc is so warm, pressed to him front-to-front like this— what can Pecco do but tuck his head into Marc’s shoulder, melt into him like honey, golden and sweet?

He doesn’t want the moment to end, but all too soon Marc is stepping away, trailing his hands to rest on Pecco’s arms. “I am glad you are okay,” he says, looking up at Pecco wide-eyed and earnest, and he— he believes him, Pecco realizes, rocking him like a punch to the gut.

But just as quickly Marc’s face relaxes again, into that easy, winning smile, as he says, “Rest well for Misano, yeah? When I said I wanted to share a garage with the world champion next year, I meant it.”

Pecco can feel his face flushing, shakes his head and says, “Okay. If only so I can beat you next weekend.”

Marc laughs and lets go of Pecco, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t push it,” he says, mock-scolding. He heads for the door— Pecco has half a mind to offer him a drink or something, get him to stay a little longer, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he just says, “Congratulations, Marc. You were incredible.”

Marc opens the door, looks back and smiles at Pecco one last time. “See you on Thursday,” he says, and then the door is swinging shut behind him.

The latch clicks, and it’s like a spell has broken, leaving Pecco standing there blinking in confusion. Because— he buries his face in his hands and groans, loud and long— what the fuck possessed him, to make him act like that? Marc must have laid the trap, somehow, and Pecco blundered directly into it. There’s no way he’ll be able to rest— he’ll be up all night thinking about warm hands grazing his shoulder, about deep brown eyes looking up at him with open, genuine concern.

But it wasn’t genuine, Pecco knows, it wasn’t anything real. Just another mind game— so why, he thinks, does he wish it wasn’t?

#the inherent homoeroticism of examining your rival's wounds am I right?#motogp fic #motogp rpf #marcnaia #pecco/marc #aster writes

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supernovafics · 11 hours

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series masterlist | last part — next part

pairing: modern!college!steve harrington x fem!reader, bestfriend!eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 3.8k words

warnings: explicit language, mentions of drinking and being hungover, a bit of angst

summary: a delayed flight back home leads to an abrupt realization that ultimately feels stupid because everything between you and steve is supposed to be over

CHAPTER FOURTEEN | ❝𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝒊𝒕’𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖❞

Fall Semester 2016

The music was loud and the bar was crowded but you didn’t mind it all that much.

Robin cupped a hand around her mouth and leaned toward your ear so you could hear her. “Do you think there’s any chance that he’ll make it back here before the show starts, or at all?”

You pushed up on your toes to see if you could spot Eddie anywhere, specifically his mop of curly hair, but you couldn’t. He’d been tasked with grabbing drinks almost thirty minutes ago at this point. You looked back at Robin and leaned in toward her. “I’m starting to doubt it.”

“Well,” She started. “RIP, I guess. He will be missed.”

“Truly,” You joked back, placing a solemn hand over your heart.

As if on cue, Eddie’s voice broke through the noise. “Finally!”

He was balancing two drinks in one hand and holding the other as he joined you both back at the small table that you were surrounding.

“Just in time, Edward,” Robin said. “I think the band’s about to finally go on.”

“You guys are welcome for the drinks that I almost died trying to get. The bar’s a shit show because some new guy just started.”

“We’d already mourned you, though, so you being back now is a little awkward,” You told him teasingly and Robin laughed.

“I guess I’ll just take this back then,” Eddie responded, reaching over to grab your glass.

You playfully swatted his hand away. “Hey, hey! What I meant to say was you’re the best for getting these for us. You’re so awesome.”

Robin nodded. “I agree.”

He smiled then. “Thank you. That’s what I like to hear.”

The three of you waited for the band to come out— this small group that Robin really liked. She had found out about the show at the last second and, of course, asked you and Eddie to come along too.

She and Eddie had been friends for the past month; they were in the same advanced music theory class, even though she was only a freshman. And you and her had only been friends for a little over a week, but it felt like longer. The long overdue introduction came in the form of Eddie inviting her along to the midnight showing of an Indie movie you and he were seeing. Aside from Eddie, there was no one that you’d been able to hit it off with so easily.

It was a little after eleven when the show ended, and you all were still somewhat tipsy as you walked back to your dorm— you had done the second drink run in the middle of the show and made it back in record time. Since you lived alone, it was unspokenly decided that they’d stay with you for the night, it always just made the most sense. Robin had a roommate that she didn’t like (it reminded you of your own situation freshman year), and Eddie had two now that were actually present most of the time.

The twenty-minute walk didn’t feel too long or unbearable. There was a cool breeze that was completely comfortable and made sense for the end of September. You lingered just a few steps behind Robin and Eddie, humming a specific part of a song from the show that had gotten stuck in your head and not at all focusing on the conversation happening between them. But then, a certain part of it stood out to you.

“I still don’t understand how you’re dating someone whose music taste is so different from yours,” Robin said to Eddie. You weren’t sure how the conversation got to that, but you had to admit, you did agree with Robin’s statement because it had never fully made sense to you either.

Eddie and Chrissy were great together, you could see that clearly, but the how of it all was what confused you at first because they really did seem quite different. You eventually just accepted the fact that not all things were meant to make a whole lot of sense.

“Our love runs deeper than her bad taste in music,” Eddie answered. “Opposites attract and all that cliche shit.”

Maybe it was the slight inebriation, but you weren’t even fazed by how happy and completely content he sounded right then. Your feelings for him were gone— well, maybe not exactly gone, but at least far, far, far away.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Spring Semester 2018

Delayed flights were already one of the worst things ever. But delayed flights with a hangover felt like an entirely new version of hell.

A version that you were currently living in.

In hindsight, it probably would’ve been for the best if you stopped at your third glass of champagne last night, but you didn’t, and neither did Steve. Instead, you both had more than you should’ve at the wedding reception, and then when you returned to your shared room, you two raided the minifridge for every tiny bottle of alcohol it had.

From what you remembered about the majority of the night— the smiles and laughs shared between you and Steve and the drunken storytimes about the most random topics— you honestly didn’t regret most of it; even though you were now sitting in a chair that was too hard to get comfortable in and stuck with a four-hour flight delay. The bright fluorescent lighting in the airport only made your headache worse and you promptly stole Steve’s sunglasses, and he thankfully didn’t protest.

“Robin thinks that you’re kidnapping me,” You told him as he sat back down next to you and handed over the water he got for you at one of the shops. You two were only one hour into the long delay.

“I hope you’re endlessly defending me,” He said, giving you a smile. It was almost annoying how fine he seemed, barely any after effects from last night.

“Of course I am,” You said, eyes back on your phone as you sent her a picture that you’d taken of a lizard from when you and Steve were at the beach on Sunday. The random picture felt like the perfect response to her ridiculous text of “He’s trying to kidnap you!” when you told her about the flight delay. “I feel like I especially have to defend you now because I owe you for last night.”

You didn’t look at him, not even when your phone was pocketed back in the front pocket of the hoodie you were wearing. It had been around one in the morning when the night came to somewhat of an abrupt end, and it was one of the two parts of the night that you did regret. When you and he were on the couch in your room— sharing a plate of room service french fries and watching an old kid’s movie because it was the only channel that had English subtitles— and you suddenly felt sick. Steve saw you puke (luckily you managed to make it to the bathroom) and he’d been way too nice about it, in your opinion; rubbing your back as the fries and everything else from that night came back up and grabbing a water for you— the only drink that was left in the minifridge aside from two bottles of soda.

“You actually don’t owe me anything because you finally gave me a song last night,” He told you, and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

You closed your eyes as you sighed. “I hate that you just brought that up.”

You had tried your hardest to forget about the moment he was talking about when you woke up. But, you remembered it way too vividly, and it quickly became the other part of the night that you regretted. It felt worse than the puke moment, even though it happened before that, and it was the one thing that you wished you had blacked out on— you drunkenly pulling up the instrumental version of Don’t Stop Me Now by Queen, and using your phone as a microphone to sing it for him in your room. The memory of you jumping around on the couch as you did your very lively performance was almost too crystal clear in your head. The only thing that you were glad for when you woke up and sadly remembered that that happened was that there was no video proof of any of it since Steve’s phone had been dead.

“That moment was supposed to be never spoken about and only taken to our respective graves,” You told him. “I’m gonna tell Robin that you are kidnapping me now. I hope you enjoyed twenty years of living because your days are now numbered, Harrington.”

“I’m sorry for bringing it up,” You could still hear the smile in his voice, which only made you roll your eyes.

“Don’t forget that you also sang to me,” You reminded him, your own smile tugging at your lips as you remembered pulling up a song for him on your phone when you were done with yours and forcing him to sing. “And I truly loved the way you sang Since U Been Gone.”

“I only did the first minute of it because I forgot how high it gets,” He said. “You gave me the entirety of Don’t Stop Me Now.”

You groaned and pulled the hood of your hoodie over your head. “Don’t remind me.”

You heard his soft laugh in response and ignored it, knowing that things would feel a lot less embarrassing if you let the conversation shift to anything that wasn’t this. The sounds of everything else happening in the airport right then, couples and friends and parents with their kids moving around, filled in the silence as Steve took a sip from his own water bottle.

“You hungry?” He asked.

You shook your head. “Just tired.”

You leaned your head against his shoulder then because all you really wanted to do at that moment was sleep. The way he was sitting made it a little awkward, your head resting more so on the point of his shoulder rather than in the curve of it. It definitely wasn’t the most comfortable position, but it wasn’t the worst.

As if sensing your slight discomfort, Steve shifted a little, scooting a bit lower in the chair so that your head could rest a lot more comfortably on his shoulder. “That better?”

Your eyes were shut as you spoke. “So much. Thank you.”

He hummed in response. “Yeah, no problem.”

Somehow even with all of the romantic couple stuff that you two had to do these past few days, it was this moment that actually managed to completely change things for you. This was the moment where your stomach did a weird fluttery thing that made you see things differently. This was the moment that made you want to kiss him for real. This was the moment that made you wish that this relationship wasn’t entirely fake and that there wasn’t an expiration date to this ruse that was quite literally tonight. This was the moment that made you realize that you were in way too deep.

Although, maybe that feeling had been lingering and begging to be noticed the entire trip— during that moment in the pool, during that kiss at the wedding reception, during that slow dance.

But still, it was right here in this stupidly bright airport that it all hit you like a freight train. And it only made your headache a thousand times worse.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

You had three more hours of a flight delay and another handful of hours on a plane to reevaluate your feelings; to accept them for what they were or convince yourself otherwise. But, you didn’t do any of that. Instead, you pushed it away entirely. You let yourself fall asleep on Steve’s shoulder for an hour and a half, and then took him up on his offer for food because you figured it would probably help ease away your headache.

You had tried your hardest not to look at him any differently as you two sat across from each other at a restaurant that had really good burgers. You talked about the most unimportant things, spending what was probably too much time ranking TV shows you used to love as a kid and letting Steve go on random tangents about history topics. You’d never been a fan of History, but the way he talked about it actually made it sound interesting for the first time probably ever in your life, and it also helped you not think about anything else. And then you two were finally getting on your flight back home and you slept the entire time of that too.

Now you sat in his car that was parked outside of your apartment building, and your maybe feelings for him were thankfully still the last thing on your mind.

Both of you knew what was coming— the inevitable “break up”— but it seemed as if neither of you were ready to pull the trigger. So instead, you both were saying anything to prolong the conversation and keep the night going; you had even brought up the weather of all things just to give yourself another few minutes in his car. And almost an hour later you were still there, sitting in his passenger seat and waiting for the worried text from Robin that felt inevitable given how long it’d been.

You were in the middle of trying to think of something to say, a question to ask, but Steve was speaking before you could. “Remember when you talked about maybe wanting to teach?”

You kind of forgot that you mentioned that to him before, and you silently wondered what brought up that question, but you nodded anyway. “Mhm, yeah.”

“Sometimes I think about doing that too,” He told you. “Teaching History. But, I know my parents would absolutely hate that.”

The first part of his words made a lot of sense to you because you could actually see that for him, and the rest of his statement made you frown.

“Yeah, but it’s your life at the end of the day, though,” You said. “You’re the one that has to live it, so you should do what you want.” Your mind was then reminding you of who his parents were, and how intense they were, before Steve got the chance to. “And I know that’s definitely easier said than done, and I’m probably making it all sound much simpler than it actually is, but it doesn’t make it any less true, y’know?”

It was quiet for a second and then he was nodding. “Yeah, you’re right.”

You looked away from him then and focused your gaze out the window for a bit. You could’ve kept the conversation going and let a random question fall from your lips, but there was only one thing left to do, and you knew that you had to finally do it.

“Okay, and on that serious note, I think it’s time for me to make things even more serious,” You said, even though you were actually about to do the opposite. You reached over, looking down to find his hand in the semi-darkness and then meeting his eyes. “Steve, this last month has been amazing and I have truly felt honored to be your girlfriend. But, I think that we need to break up.” You took a brief pause; to make things more dramatic and also to think of what else to say to make this as cheesy as possible. “It’s not you, it’s me. I’m just not ready for a relationship. We’re getting too serious. I think we both want different things. Our lives are moving in such different directions…” You trailed off, trying to see if there were any cliches you were missing. “Yeah, I think those are all of the reasons that I have. Anyway, I’m sorry, but it’s over.”

He smiled at you, and you could tell that he was trying to hold back his laughter at how sincere your unserious words sounded. “It’s okay. I understand.”

“Thank you for understanding,” You said with a nod and a small smile on your face. “That was really hard to do.”

It wasn’t until your joking words came out that you realized that they weren’t that much of a joke at all. You were smiling and holding back your own laugh, but you actually felt sad about this entire moment.

You told yourself that it was the friendship that you were already mourning right then rather than anything else; this friendship that you’d accidentally but so easily developed with him. And you knew that it was over— "separate ways" and all that, just like it was written in the rules.

You didn’t really like Steve in any other way. You couldn’t. You refused to, actually, because you could sense that it would lead you down an all too familiar path of pining and unrequited feelings for obvious reasons— he didn’t want anything real or serious with anyone, and you were the opposite.

You decided then that it was the act of fake dating that made you think that you liked him. The lines of it all abruptly became a little blurry because, of course, acting like you’re dating someone and pretending to be in love would lead to thinking that you actually had feelings for them. You quickly convinced yourself that there was no way there was anything real between you and him, and the only reason why it had suddenly felt that way was because you two had been acting like it for the past month and these extra two weeks.

Steve was the one who initiated the hug when you two were standing outside of his car. It was a quick thing, nothing too dramatic or drawn out, which you were glad for because it made things less confusing.

“And you’re sure there’s nothing you want me to do for you about Eddie?” He asked when you both pulled back from the brief embrace and your hand found the handle of your suitcase.

With everything else running through your mind at that moment— all of the conclusions you were coming to and the things you were convincing yourself of— you’d completely forgotten about the Eddie part of this. The complete truth still felt too hard to tell Steve, so you only gave half of it.

“I’m positive. It’s okay,” You said and gave him a small smile. “I’ll be fine. Me and Eddie are just supposed to be friends. I get that now.”

“Okay,” He responded, and you could tell that he was attempting to read you, see how much you actually meant your words. Inwardly, you knew just how true they were, and saying them right then finally didn’t even make you feel sad anymore. “Then, I guess we’re about to fulfill the final rule of the agreement right now.”

Hearing him saying that pretty much confirmed everything that you had just been thinking. The timer was up and you two had to go your separate ways; even if the rule was scrapped it would be pretty impossible to be friends now anyway. There was no way you could be friends without telling the whole truth to everyone, so this was just much easier.

And with what he just said, you knew that he didn’t see you two as actual friends or anything else, anyway. At the end of the day, you two were essentially just business partners. You thought back to that group project analogy that you came up with what felt like forever ago. The “project” was finally completed and now you two could go back to how your lives were before you’d been paired up.

“Yeah. It was nice doing business with you,” You said and held out your hand for him to shake before realizing how dumb that probably was.

Steve laughed, though. A genuine sound that managed to make you smile and not feel like a complete idiot as his hand took hold of your outstretched one. “You too.”

You walked away once his hand dropped from yours and when the final goodbyes were said, rolling your suitcase with you toward the entrance of your building and deliberately not looking back as you stepped inside because you didn’t know what you would feel if you turned around.

Talia was the only one awake and in the living room when you walked into the apartment.

“Hey, glad to see you weren’t kidnapped like Robin thought,” She smiled at you. “How was the trip?”

“Good,” You said, smiling back. “But, it feels even better to be home right now and not stuck in an airport. I missed my bed.”

It didn’t feel like the right moment to drop the “break up” news, and plus, you weren’t in the mood to make up answers to the slew of questions that the news would bring about.

“There’s some cookies on the counter if you want them,” She told you and you immediately took a look over at the counter and noticed the clear container. “I tried out this new chocolate chip recipe that turned out really good, and everyone went crazy for them, but I managed to save you three.”

“God, that sounds amazing. I’ll be right back,” You said, heading to your room to drop off your suitcase and then take a quick shower.

You joined her on the couch after grabbing your cookies from the kitchen and didn’t even mind the unsettling true crime documentary she had playing on the TV. It was a moment that was so normal and familiar and just for a second it made you feel entirely at ease. Until you realized that this was how things were going to go now.

Solely back to moments that resembled this one— reality TV nights, game nights, enjoying Talia’s cooking with everyone, moments where none of you could sleep so you stayed up and talked about anything. What your life was before Steve. Back to normal.

That should’ve felt completely okay, but it didn’t, and that really confused you.

Steve was someone who wasn’t in your life a month and a half ago so what would be the big deal about him not being in it now?

None of what happened this past month was real, you understood that, but for some insane reason, you already missed it. It had been a bad idea, but you missed it. It had been a waste of time for you, but you missed it. You’d felt like an idiot because of it all, but still, you found yourself missing it.

It was so contradictory but also so true. And right then, it was hard to decide or even figure out what exactly that meant.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

next part!

taglist (lmk if you want to be added or taken off<333); @eddiernunson , @loulouloueh , @the-aster , @blckburd , @totally-bogus-timelady , @yujyujj , @irhdifartzamfyaa , @mochminnie , @munsonssweets , @blckbrrybasket , @xprloki , @definitionwanderlust , @dwcode , @sun-fiower-seed , @keerysfolklore , @damon-loves-pie , @lodeddiperrodrick , @bisexual-and-intellectual , @munsonburn3r , @negomi123 , @khena , @facexthexsunshine , @seatbacksandtraytables , @suckerfordylansstuff

(if your user is crossed out it means i can’t tag you</3)

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #eddie munson x reader #bestfriend!eddie munson #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington series #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things imagine #stranger things fluff

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noonaishere · 3 days

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Online/Offline [C.S] - eighty-eight | born to run

“You’re hurting me…”

“Explain yourself.”

You looked into his eyes. Whatever soft dewey-ness that was there because of his lovey-dovey feelings for you a moment ago was completely gone. You were scared at the change and how fast it had happened, but you couldn’t admit that out loud.

“You’re hurting my arm.”

He stared into your eyes and you thought of the microphone for a moment before pushing it away. Something about the way he stared almost made you wonder if he was trying to read your mind, and you - as irrational as it sounded - didn’t want to think about it because he might know you were wearing it. You didn’t want to imagine what he’d do then.

“What do you mean? ‘A man who would do such things’ to you?”

You stared at him hard, trying to steel your resolve. His grip got tighter.

“I meant to say…” Fuck him. You were done pretending. “How could anyone love someone who would delve into their past without asking, who would follow them around for months, and who would think that they’re owed something?”

He glared at you, his nostrils flared like a bull getting ready to charge. His grip tightened again.

You gritted your teeth. Why the fuck was he so strong? “Ow.”

“Good. I’m glad I could hurt you the way you’ve hurt me.”

“I never squeezed your arm so hard it might break.”

“No, but you broke my heart.”

“How?”

“First with Keeho. Your ‘best friend’ from school? Give me a fucking break. Men and women can’t be friends, it’s so obvious you were fucking--”

“Fuck you. Just because you’ve never had a woman for a friend doesn’t mean the rest of us are-- ah!”

You thought you could feel the pressure of his grip start to bend the bones, but you could have imagined it. Regardless, his grip was crazy strong and you were waiting to hear the sound of bone snapping at this point. You tried to push his hand away with your free hand.

“But I let it slide because I saw him in an old picture of yours. I could allow you one male friend. But now with this simp, MorningStar, or should I say: San?”

Your eyes snapped up to meet his. “Keep his name out of your mouth.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really, you fucking creep. You could never be what either of them are to me.”

“And why not?”

“Because you’re like this.” You tried harder to push his hand off you, clawing at his, to no avail.

His eyes widened. “Get up.”

He stood and practically pulled your arm out of your shoulder as he yanked you up off the bench.

“Ow, you’re hurting me.”

“Get up. Quietly.”

You had no choice but to stand. It was that or fall to the floor and be dragged.

“You’re coming with me.”

“No. I’m not.”

“Yes you are.”

He pulled on your arm.

“Ow!”

You could see people beginning to turn towards the two of you at that outburst.

He leaned in towards you. “Don’t make a scene.”

“Get your hand off of me!”

He pulled you forward.

The most base part of your brain registered that your ears heard footsteps moving quickly, running towards you, getting closer. Your conscious mind was too preoccupied with the terrifying prospect that you were about to be kidnapped to pay any attention to it.

You pulled your arm back, trying to free yourself. “No!”

He raised his free hand to hit you. In a flurry, San slammed into him like a hockey player and Byungchul’s grip on you released as he stumbled back a few feet. San was in front of you with his hands on your face, frantically checking you.

“Are you okay?”

You blinked back tears. How did he even know where you were? “I’m fine.”

Satisfied, San turned back around to face Byungchul and put himself in between the two of you. Everyone in the square was watching you now.

Byungchul dusted himself off as he stood. “Look who it is, y/n, your fake boyfriend.”

“What the hell is your problem?” San asked.

“Nothing, just that your fake girlfriend lured me out here to tell me she loved me. Jealous?”

“I somehow doubt that.”

Byungchul frowned. He lunged at San and San evaded, pushing you away from the both of them. You stumbled back and into the body of Yunho, who caught you, Wooyoung running up behind him.

“Why is San here?” He asked.

“Didn’t you tell him?”

Yunho and Wooyoung both shook their heads. Wooyoung paused and listened to his earpiece.

“Quack said she messaged him.”

Mystery solved. You sighed, “Thank you, Quack.”

“She said ‘you’re welcome.’”

San and Byungchul grappled for a few moments - Byungchul having the upper hand at first because of his size and weight, and then San gaining the upper hand because of his experience - until the cops showed up and ran over to the two of them.

“She also said she called the cops.”

As the cops cuffed both of them, you ran over to San. “Wait, wait, he’s with me!”

Wooyoung and Yunho ran after you.

previous | main cast | masterlist | next

a/n: San running in to save y/n… thoughts?

Send an ask or leave a comment if you want to be added to the tag list! 🧋 Any comments, reblogs, or asks are appreciated! I love talking with you guys and seeing what you’re saying about the chapters, it keeps me going 🥰

@rachs-words • @stayatinykatsy • @dinossaurz • @conwunder • @tinyelfperson • @anythingrelatingtojinyoung •

#San #Choi San #Ateez #Ateez smau #Ateez fic #Ateez au #cafe au #streamer au #fake dating #reader fic #ᴏɴʟɪɴᴇ/ᴏғғʟɪɴᴇ

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whumpy-wyrms · 8 months

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every time i see my aunt she always asks me if there’s anything new going on with Aspen and Silas and then i infodump about them for an hour it’s really funny

like YES ask me about my gay cannibalistic vampire mortician who eats corpses and his equally deranged and weird immortal werewolf bloodbag at the family function! this is a totally normal and family-friendly thing to talk about in front of all my little cousins

#(they didn’t hear any of it because it’s so LOUD in here)#anyway #none of what i described concerned anyone and that’s a bit concerning #i’ve been practicing drawing wolves today cuz im bad at it but i think im getting better!!#it’s super fucking loud here tho there’s like 30 people in this house and my tism is not happy about that #gonna attempt to draw gore but i’ve never drawn anything like that before #anyway i love my ocs sm #wyrms says stuff #wyrms lore

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salaciousdoll · 11 months

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· · Just in: Kento Nanami isn’t tolerating his young hot neighbor party habits, here’s what he has to say · ·

･˳ . ⋆ Reporting Live from Kento Nanami and Next door neighbor!Fem!reader ･˳ . ⋆

୨⍣୧ ⁺⁎˚ ⋆━━ Warnings : smut, Nanami is a hard!dom, hair pulling, creampie, fucked through orgasm, pet names( stupid bunny, slut, etc.), degradation is big time here, bed breaking( not just the head board), breeding kink, Nanami talks about getting you pregnant, hardcore, reader is mind fucked, Nanami is pussy drunk, reader is dick drunk, fluids( cream, squirting, drool), if I’m missing anything let me know WC: 1,081

MDNI, 18+

ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ ̟ ̇ ┈•ﾟNote from salaciousdoll: Please do note this was just to poke and have fun, it’s not gonna be perfect so don’t expect it. Anyways, hope you all enjoy my 35 min writing and yes I know this troupe and idea been used a thousands times, act like it hasn’t 😭 Nanami ass may be ooc here, idk.

Nanami always kept his eyes out for the new neighbor who threw parties with mountains of people coming in and out. He was pretty tired of the parties you throw even if you never introduced yourself to any one of your neighbors. You were young and everyone in this neighborhood was either stepping into their 30s or older than that. Only reason he knew you were young was because of how often he’ll see you leave and come in with different boys and girls.

The parties you threw were rowdy and full on project x type beat except without trashing your house. Nanami would be sleep and all he would hear is screams, music, and even the sound of fucking near his window. It’s like you didn’t care about anything or anyone, not even the complaints or calls from the police the other neighbors sent.

So Nanami didn’t care about the way you were clawing at his chest with your long, pretty acrylics as he gripped your hair in a tight ponytail— pounding into your pussy from beneath you with no mercy. The squelching sounds weren't enough to make him stop, in fact, that’s the sole reason he kept going. He ignored your cries and scrambling to get away from him because of how good he stretched your little hole out.

“ you’re not lasting like I thought you would… I mean sluts last long, so why aren’t you?”, Nanami grunts into your ear, his hips thrusting up into your weeping pussy, angrily. He didn’t care about the bed hitting the wall as he fucked you like the whore you’re mother wouldn’t be proud of.

You coughed and tried to make eye contact with him, but his grip on your hair was too much for you to see his face under you. So you cried out your frustration through crystallized vision, “ M’not a slut. Please slow down, Mr. Nanami.” Your sweet little moans and whimpers were beautiful.

Nanami let out a loud growl like moan and wrapped one arm around your body while he now had some of your ponytail tangled and wrapped into his hands, he was making your hair messy just like he was making your pussy messy. You partially regretted coming on because of the dare, but in the same breath, you were happy because now you’re living two of your fantasies.

“ You are. You are. Nnnhh, you’re a little slut that’s been disturbing this neighborhood since you stepped foot in here. Shame on you, did your mother and father teach you anything or are you too dumb of a bunny to understand. Fuck!”, Nanami grunts out his words because of how tight your fluttering walls wrapped around his dick.

Nothing but cries and little chokes escaped out of your mouth. You couldn’t form basic words, how dumb can you be? Nanami balls were slapping on your puckered hole from how fast and rough he was going. You gave up on digging your nails into his chest because you were so fucked out and tired from the pounding he’s giving you. So now your bare chest was pressed onto his bare chest, sweat glands producing from both of you.

“ Please! Please! Please! M’gonna m’gonna— uhhnnn.”, your moans were suppressed by his smooth lips. You were screaming into his mouth as you squirted over his pelvis, his balls, and legs. Some of it was getting on his sheets and he didn’t care one bit. He was too angry at you to see how messy you’ve gotten his covers.

You tried to scramble off him because you were squirting too much and the pressure of it all was too much especially for your already beaten up pussy. It’s like Nanami has superhuman speed and stamina. He sped up even more faster as he fucked up into you, you and your pussy screamed and cried.

Nanami grunts were beginning to become broken, “ Sh-ittt, s’good, pussy is so good squirting like that. I guess all those boys coming in and out of your house taught you how to milk cock, perfectly.” Your eyes widened and then they rolled back into your head at the rolling of his hips hitting the inner thighs repeatedly.

As soon as he did one more snap of his hips, the bed frame broke underneath you two causing a loud noise to erupt from how hard it hit the floor. The poles attached to his bed fell in the opposite direction of you two. If someone were to walk in right now, they’ll see that it looks like a tornado hit his room with how broken the bed was. Yet that still didn’t stop him. He now had a great angle as he pounded your tired, wet cunt over and over with one knee propped up, so you were now fucking rapidly and properly. He felt your velvet walls sucking him in with your liquid coming out at the same time. You were perfect for his cock. Nanami’s cock was big, way too big for your pussy. He loved your pussy so much. He was too drunk on your pussy to understand that his bed broke.

“ My fucking slut, such an devilish little temptation you are, gonna breed this tight little pussy. Nghh! Hopefully that’ll get you to stop having these parties and fucking with those boy toys of yours…. Settle down and grow round and big with our child, how does that sound? Hmm.”, Nanami moaned as you were now creaming on his cock from how overstimulated you were.

Your brain was fogged and your words were slurred with drool hangin out your mouth as you answered him, well tried. Luckily he understood every word you said. “ Yesh—yess, I wan’ your babies. Ahnnn. Want to be full and bloated with your children, mmm mr. Nanami”

Nanami smirked in victory because now there were no more parties, boys, or loud music. Gotta love corrupting and breaking his pretty little neighbor.

ෆ ̟ ̇ ┈•ﾟ Tagging: @chosoist @simpingfor-wakasa @honeybleed and anyone else who wants to be tagged

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yanderenightmare · 4 months

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TW: angst, toxic traits, somewhat bullying, breakup

fem reader

You’re his first girlfriend. He’d never bothered with anything serious before—it seemed too messy to trifle with. He doesn’t know why he suddenly decided. Suppose he’d been feeling a little bored, and something within him saw you as a fool-proof opportunity.

It wasn’t because you were anything special. Actually, it was more the opposite. You didn’t seem like too big of a risk. You were just a normal, honest, nice person—a bit of a loser, too, if he was being honest. He could do a lot better and pick someone of the same caliber as him, someone with a cooler style and presence, but then he’d only get caught up in the competition.

You were more to his appetite—a dorky, blushy lil’ nerd who giggled nervously at everything he said. In other words, no competition at all. You’d never dare break his heart because you frankly couldn’t afford it. And he found solace in that imbalance—knowing he held all the cards and that you could only be grateful he’d chosen you.

At least, that had been what he’d thought. But then, here you are, holding his hands from across the table in a cute little sundae café, telling him how this just can’t work anymore.

He’s confused for a whole minute before it sinks in.

You’re breaking up with him.

He’s confused afterward, too.

You’re breaking up with him?

That can’t be right. You must be joking. He almost laughs, almost cackles, but ends up staying completely silent. Something about that pitiful look in your eye makes his throat tight, and he almost thinks he’s going to cry instead.

You’re breaking up with him. You, with him. His foot starts to tap. Have you hit your head or something? You’re dressed in a hoodie, for crying out loud, with not an ounce of make-up on—effortless, as if his perception of you wasn’t any of your concern while you’re fucking breaking up with him.

No way. There’s just no way. You must be confused about something, is all. There’s absolutely no way you’re doing this.

“What are you talking about?” It comes angry. Louder than he’d intended, enough to make you jolt in your seat. A couple of heads even turn your way. You wait for them to turn back before answering.

“I just think we’re a bit too different. And… I don’t know…” You were trying to find ways of telling him you weren’t in love with him but ended up deciding it was unnecessary—it wasn’t exactly something he needed to hear even though you had a lot you could say.

You’re rude and arrogant and treat me like some rescue pet you’ve nurtured back to health. You act like you’re embarrassed to be with me even though you’re the one without any friends. You’re selfish and spoiled and—

“If you don’t know, then there’s nothing to talk about. Quit being silly.” He has a furrow between his brows as he picks up the pink menu between the two of you, scanning the different types of milkshakes you could share and forget all about it. After all, you weren’t breaking up with him—that would just be absurd. “Let’s get strawberry.”

“No—”

“Guess we could get mango if you want that instead—”

“I’m not sharing drinks with you—”

“What? You tryna lose weight or something? Not like anyone but me is gonna see you when all you wear are those baggy hoodies all the time. Speaking of which, you should wear mine instead, they’d suit you better—”

“Listen.” You stop his rambling. “I’m not sharing drinks, and I’m not wearing your clothes. I’m not being silly, either. I’m being serious. It’s over—”

“No, it’s not.” His fist bangs against the table—the look in his eye on edge and twitchy. “I asked you why, and you had no good reason—so it’s not, not until you convince me.”

You had wanted to avoid it, but it seems he wouldn’t allow you the grace to spare him. That being said, you hadn’t meant to be so brutally honest…

“You’re a narcissist. You don’t treat me like a girlfriend. I’m more like a charity case or some type of experiment to you. Half the time, it feels as though you’re just playing a game with everyone in your life like pawns for you to shuffle around the board as you see fit.” You’re the one with the furrowed brows now, unable to bite your tongue as you’d kept it in all this time. “I think you should seek help and get your controlling tendencies straightened out before having any type of relationship. Or don’t. In any case, I don’t think I’m the right girl for you.”

There’s a silence. The chatter of the café seems distant. You feel half inclined to apologize as you look at him and stare down the glassy tabletop as if trying to find his reflection for comfort—but then he beats you to the punch.

“You’re right…” he starts softly, mustering the words, and you’re almost proud to see him take it so well, but then there’s a viscousness to his next words. “You’re not the right girl for me.”

When he looks up again, his face is warped—callous and seemingly disgusted by the sight of you. Something about it even seems to lash out at you, seeking revenge.

“I can’t believe I thought I saw something in you,” he sighs. “Turns out you’re exactly what everyone warned me you would be—just a plane-boring old Jane. What a joke—wasting so much time on something so worthless. Forget breaking up with me, I should have broken up with you a long time ago.”

He gets up in a rush and bears over the table, both palms laid flat upon the surface.

“Charity case?” he seethes, then conjures a fake laugh and an even faker grin. “I couldn’t have put it better myself. Enjoy sitting here alone like the loser you are.”

And even though you’re the one watching him walk away while ordering a chocolate sundae for yourself, you can’t help but feel sorry for the poor guy…

That had been the most emotion you’d ever witnessed come from him.

Obviously, he doesn’t take it very well, stumbling through the café before bursting out the door, but even he’s surprised by how disheveled it had made him. He’s hyperventilating when the fresh air hits him, almost sprinting to his car so that he can lock himself inside it.

But the car only makes it worse as he’s far from alone in there. You’re everywhere. On the hood, waiting for him with a smile. In the rearview mirror, waving at him. In the seat next to him with a pout, asking if you can stay over. In the backseat, naked with a coy twinkle in your eye.

He knows! He has some of your underwear at home—he’ll threaten to pass them around campus unless you beg him to take you back. No, what’s he thinking!? You’ll never come back to him that way. Fuck, what can he do, what’s he supposed to do!? He just called you worthless—what that fuck was he thinking?!

The tears startle him as they drip down and splash upon his whitening knuckles, where he grips the wheel for dear life even as the car stays completely still—safe and sound in the same plot.

There’s a light pink lip balm on the dash. Yours. You must have left it there—maybe on purpose? No… you don’t play games like that. You’d been honest in the café. The fact terrifies him—his heart seems to want to reject it at all costs, the way it tears in his chest.

He picks the slim pink stick up and rolls it around in his hand, which can’t seem to stop shaking. You’d sat on his lap in this very seat, laughing at something dumb he’d said while applying the very same balm on his lip—kissing his forehead while saying something sweet. He knows it wasn’t, but he imagines you’d whispered that you loved him.

When he smears the balm around his lips this time, he imagines kissing you and your soft lips and that everpresent smile he never bothered telling you was pretty.

He’s such an idiot. The birds in the parking lot take flight at the jostling of his car, but no one hears the roar.

And as he sits there in the following silence, wallowing in his own self-pity and regret, he can’t help but feel like the lead of some angsty teen romance.

And like the lead in an angsty teen romance, he swears… whatever it takes… he will win you back.

You will be his again.

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi, Hawks ♡ JJK – Gojo, Naoya, some young type of Sukuna, or Toji ♡ HQ – Tsukishima, Oikawa, Sakusa, Miya twins ♡ BLLK – Reo ♡ AOT – Eren

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

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uzurakis · 4 months

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NEARLY C★UGHT IN THE ACT!

featuring: fushiguro megumi. itadori yuuji. gojo satoru. geto suguru. (characters are all aged up)

NSFW MDNI. fuck! ya almost got caught screwing . .

n. been in the drafts for way too long.. cz i needa clear my reqs but idc! i’ve been wanting to write this for the longest time. enjoy my lovelies <3

GOJO SATORU. “s-shit, how much i’ve missed this view,” gojo was sitting in his office desk, slighty pulling your hair to guide you to the rhythm he wanted. you felt yourself melting into him with his warm shaft in your mouth, ever soo big and too much for you, bobbing your head up and down.

just then, a sharp knock echoed through the room, startling you both. your heart raced as you instinctively tried to pull back from gojo. “s-satoru, we—“ his hand gripped your scalp more firmly than before, making you swallow his shaft until it hit the back of your throat. in other words, he didn’t fucking care. “just do your job, darling. and relax, they won’t come in.”

“even if they do come in, we’ll just say we were having a very hands-on discussion.”

GETO SUGURU. “i’m sorry, princess,” he whispered beside your ear as he hit you raw from behind, both pressed against each other in the dim light of a public restroom. his hands gently putting your hair to the side, “i just, ngh, need you so badly,” whilst his lips found yours again, silencing any further protest.

the sound of footsteps outside the door made you freeze, heart pounding in your chest as the door handle rattled. “someone’s out t-there,” you tried to say as you held back the moans. yet not only your heart was pounding like crazy, it seemed your boyfriend was also still pounding your walls despite the chance you two will get caught screwing in public.

“j-just a little longer,” he pleaded as the groans left his lips again. “i can’t get enough of you.”

ITADORI YUUJI. watching movies together was the original plan, until itadori’s cock twitched because you were sitting on his lap. your ass brushed against his bulge and that’s it. he couldn’t hold it any longer.

a split second later his boxers are on the floor, your panties pushed aside as he rocked your waist front and back. better than the movies, he thought, “i’m havin’ a nice view, baby.” you circled your hands on his shoulders when suddenly you heard a knock on the door. “shit,” itadori murmured as he panicked, slowing down the pace a bit. “i’ll handle this.”

“uh, 10 minutes! don’t come in!” he shouted deafeningly, you were certain that if the person still opened the door, they must have hearing problems to miss that loud shout. “see? problem solved. now, where were we?”

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. with a frustrated groan, he hovered above you, laying your leg on one of his shoulders and pumping two digits in and out of your hole while he ran a hand through his hair. “why did you have to sneak in here? tsk,” a groan fell from his mouth, “you’re going to get us caught one of these days,” he grumbled, but his fingers playing around your pussy said otherwise.

“because i—ah,” you were the one squirming under his touch, “i-i wanted to be with you—“

“fushiguroo, are you there?” came the voice from the other side of the door. megumi sighed, his expression quickly shifting to one of annoyance. “busy!” he called out, forcing his other fingers over your throat to stop you from making any noise, and tried to keep his voice steady while fucking your insides. “idiot, just keep quiet, okay?”

@uzurakis

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honeykaes · 1 year

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louder and louder

getting you to get loud hc’s feat. lyney, neuvillette, alhaitham and cyno

warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact, afab!reader with no set pronouns, fingering (lyney), praise (lyney +neuvillette), exhibitionism (neuvillette), creampie (neuvillette), dacryphilia (neuvillette, cyno), face-sitting (alhaitham), cunnilingus (alhaitham), toys (cyno), masturbation (cyno), overstimulation (cyno),

High on the adrenaline of completing a performance at the Opera Epiclese, as soon as he comes home to you a grin is plastered on the magician's face. Humming, his hands take your own twirling you throughout the room slowly guiding you to the bedroom as he kicks the door close with a soft thud.

His lips captured yours in a passionate kiss, hands resting on your cheek nibbling your bottom lip with fervor.

“Someone’s happy,” you hummed, letting Lyney’s skillful hands lift off the layers of your nightgown until you were bare for him. He chuckled, capturing your lips once more and leans his weight against your own—bottoms tumbling gently on the plush bed.

“What can I say, ma souris? I can’t end a night such as this without a grand enforce,” he cooed back. He laid above you, hand trailing up the curves along your leg before resting on your inner thigh. As he cups your cunt, a soft breath is emitted from your lips causing his grin to widen. He feels you grinding against his palm, your arousal beginning to smear against it.

“Eager, are we?” he cooed once more, pressing his lips against your neck, nibbling down at the sensitive skin. “I guess I have been neglecting you recently, hm?”

His thumb brushed against your clit, causing your hips to involuntary buck—trying to get any bit of friction you could from Lyney. He blew his warm breath into your ear, causing you to shiver toying with the nub as he felt his appendage begin to coat in your slick. Two fingers slowly sank themselves into you, pumping at a slow pace while Lyney’s peppered his lips against your neck.

Lyney needed to hear your voice louder, he needed those soft whines of his name to stretch louder as if it was a roar of joyful noise at one of his shows. His cock strained against his tight pants, grinding itself against your leg.

“More..more…let me see you reach the heavens, mon cœur!” Lyney groaned out, pumping deeper inside of you. His fingers continuously brushed against your gummy walls, your high climbing further and further as your mouth finally opened, voice calling out your lover’s name. You squirmed underneath him as he tried to hold down your waist—his pace still relentlessly as the sinful squelching noise echoed in the melody with your voice.

“You have such a lovely voice. I hope to hear it even more tonight…!”

It’s been a long time since Neuvillette seemed puzzled by humans. It seemed this day in age, their nature seemed odd and contradictory in nature and this aspect leaned over towards his lover as well. He had always read stories of couples yelling their names in absolute pleasure when joining as one, yet whenever Neuvillette seemed to bed you—you seemed not to act like that.

He didn’t think he was bad at sex by any means, he had experience before after all and valued your pleasure over it. But because of that, he feared you weren’t being all that pleasured at all by him. He’d have to change that.

So here you were, in the ungodly hours at night bend over Neuvillette’s desk. You bit you shaky lips, feeling his heavy cock drag against your sensitive walls as his strokes reached deeper and deeper inside of you. The desk rattled to the pace of his thrust, his nails covered in leather, digging into the globe of your ass to spread you out wider.

Slick dribbled down on the marble ground, as he began to grunt loudly—brow furrowed as his frustrations grew.

“Why do you not want to moan for me? All I want to have is your voice echoing throughout these halls,” he grunted, pressing his lips deep in your ear. You bit you lip further before gasping, feelings Neuvillette softly clutch your groan. He could feel your pulse rapidly beat against his hand.

“I-It’s too embarrassing,” you choked out, feeling him grunt against and lay his upper half down on the desk allowing his cock to plunge even deeper inside of you. A mix of pleasure and pain swirled throughout your core as his tips nudged against your cervix.

“Please..mon amour…let me hear you say my name,” he begged in a low voice causing you to shiver. You hesitantly stopped biting your lips as your nails dug into the desk, rising in pitch as you called out the chief justice’s name repeatedly.

“That’s it…that’s it. You’re doing so well for me,” he grunted. Your walls fluttered against his cock as he began to get to Neuvillette, cock pulsating and desperate to release. His grip on your ass lifted, snaking it around to rub tight circles on your clit. Your whines rang out as you finally reached your peak, warming Neuvillette’s heart to the fullest as tears pricked your eyes.

His lips soaked up your salty tears as his hips soon faltered, thick ropes of cum spurting itself inside of you. Globs soon leaked out, joining your arousal on the once pristine floors as Neuvillette tried to catch his breath.

“...I hope to hear more of this side of you in the future.”

Alhaitham was also fairly quiet in bed. Besides his grunts and an occasional low moan of your name, he didn’t find himself being loud in showing you his love in the bedroom. This seemed to irk you so when you brought it up with him, he replied back you were no different—thus, a silent challenge between which one was right was soon immense, who could get the other to moan the loudest.

Your hips covered against his tanned face, eyes teal and orange eyes flickered up in amusement.

“You can back out now before you embarrass yourself,” he stated. You scoffed in response as he shrugged. You need to learn to give him a little more credit when knowing just how to make your body tick.

His large hands rested on your waist, before pushing you down so your cunt was against his mouth. You grinded your lips and bit your lip to prevent any noises from leaking out but that became harder feeling Alhaitham dart out his tongue, flattening it against your clit. Your legs shook as his tongue swiped against your slick, nudging firmly against the nub as one of his hands crept up and squeezed your ass.

His lower mouth was completely coated in your arousal, dripping down his chin and lower cheeks, but his fervor lapping you up did not stop once. He popped the bundle of nerves between his lips, sucking roughly at the nub as pleasure shot throughout your body, a low moan escaping your lips.

His lips curled up in a slight smirk before opening his mouth to let your clit go once more, before flickering it back and forth before sucking it once more. Your nails dug into your thighs, hips grinding themselves against his face.

“Al-Al-Alhaitham,” you sputtered out, walls clamping down on nothing as you frail on top of him, reaching your peak. His cheeks were read as he took big breaths, swiping his tongue against the slick that clung onto his lips.

“It would seem my hypothesis was correct. Now, what exactly should be my reward?”

Cyno was a bit more insecure than he liked to let on, especially when it came to his relationship with you. He often needed some reassurance, whether he asked for it directly or not. So, often times when he bedded you, he needed to hear your voice loud and echoing throughout the large deserts of Sumeru —to signal he was doing a good job pleasuring you.

But when times you didn’t seem to be loud enough for his taste, a bit of a sadistic streak would come out of him.

His scarlet eyes narrowed at the toys vibrating themselves inside of you, hardened cock throbbing in his tight grip. A new mechanism had just gone on the market from Fontaine, and with his savings he managed to buy it to try it out on an occasion he saw fit. Tears pricked your eyes as your body squirmed, hips lifting up trying to reach your high before the toy would stop moving—edging you in a maddening cycle.

You cursed and whined, shifting your hips desperate for the feeling to return again until it finally did, at a much slower ministration this time. Cyno pumped his cock lazily, pressing down against the prominent veins that lined it.

“When I finally cum…I’ll let you as well. I see that as only fair right?” Cyno murmured, pressing a chaste kiss against your sweaty forehead. You give him a soft glare before the toy’s vibration raises once more, causing a loud moan to escape your lips.

Cyno smiled, bucking his hips at the excitement of finally hearing your voice.

“Perhaps if you sounded like that last time when I pleaded with you, you wouldn’t be punished like this,” Cyno chuckled, pressing another kiss on their lips. Your voice raised octaves as the general grunted, shutting his eyes as his cock throbbed in pleasure.

“Cyno! Cyno!” you croaked out, as he bit his lips in responses. He didn’t know why your voice had such a spell on him, but here he was unraveling, cums of cum shooting out and resting on your stomach and chest.

He sighed, slightly ashamed of himself for giving in so quickly as he finally let the toy give you the high you’ve been so desperate for.

Cyno wrapped his arms around you, staring down at your tired form.

“You're a dick, you know that,” you muttered. Cyno chuckled before resting his head against yours.

“I’m just a man hopelessly in love with the way you call out your name. I’m not ashamed of that.”

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin smut #lyney x reader #lyney smut #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette smut #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham smut #cyno x reader #cyno smut

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jkslipppiercing · 4 months

Text

Horny For My Bestie | Jeon JK | Oneshot

☆ Synopsis: Your best friend, jungkook, is dared to take a Viagra pill at a party. He's horny for his bestie...in this case, you.

☆ Genre: Smut, angst, EXPLICIT CONTENT!!, JK'S POV

☆ Pairing: Bsf!oc, horny!jk.

☆ Warnings: honestly just a loooot of smut, Jungkook is horny out of his damn mind, horny thoughts, angst, dirty talk, oc cries during sex, oral (f receiving), spanking, a lot of kissing (duh), penetrative sex, unsafe sex (be safe out there x), he cums inside her, bitch idk what else just read it and find out 😜 oh yeah dry humping, animalistic fucking, shit like that

☆ WC: 8.5K

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taglist

a/n: AHHHHHH it's finally here!! this is my longest fic yet so.i hope you enjoy it. im so so so excited everyone support and show love!! i love you all ♡

-UNEDITED

Her lips move, but i'm not listening.

She looks at me expectantly, like though she's waiting for a response.

Had she just spoken to me right now?

Because, not to be one of rude mannerisms, I couldn’t give a shit if I wanted to.

My body's on fire. Heat pulses through ny veins and my cock visibly throbs, and her bare thigh peeking out from the slit of her tiny dress isnt helping.

it's a given rule, not to be sexually drawn to your best friend.

I shouldn't see her this way.

I shouldn’t picture her lips sloppily sucking around me just because theyre swollen and inviting. Red and fucking attracting the hell out of my attention.

I shouldn’t picture her under me.

Above me.

On me.

Fucking hell.

Im aware of the sweat trickling down my temple.

Im highly aware of how uncomfortable I’d make her feel if I tried to adjust my seating position.

The raging hard-on would be hard to conceal if I tried to move a sliver of an inch.

Fuck, im horny.

Horny for her.

Thanks to fucking Viagra falls and Kim Fucking Taehyung.

Damn him.

the party music’s bass still rings in my ears, a reminder of how loud and chaotic taehyung’s parties always are. It breaches the peaceful silence one would usually experience sitting in a car half past midnight.

I’d picked my best friend up earlier this evening so we could go there together.

It was a weekly taehyung frat party. The usual.

The dress she chose to wear hugs her curves nicely, her makeup simple, but complimenting her features. High heels adorn her feet and that fucking dress adorns my conscience.

The tiny slit.

Tiny, tiny, little, slit.

She shifts her feet, and the dress hikes up higher.

The viagra I'd been dared to take just a little over half an hour ago had taken effect pretty harshly on my body.

My poor, poor body.

Stray strands of my hair are sticking to my forehead, my cock is growing harder by the second, and my heartbeat is beating faster than I could fucking breathe.

I cant even breathe properly.

And the damn sex appeal goddess sitting across from me in my car’s passenger seat is not making it any easier.

We’ve been sitting in this car for I don’t know how long, after I'd called out for her and asked her to leave, and drove us both to my apartment.

She didn’t look at me long enough then to notice all the distress literally draping over my body and ambushing it like a blanket, so she just obliged by my request, following me away and to my car.

Should I tell her? About the viagra?

Would it be weird?

Of course it’d be weird, you dumbass.

She’d probably be uncomfortable.

Fuck, since when was she so damn irresistible?

Fuck, just make out with me already.

Fuck, wanna fuck?

FUCK.

I’d love to fuck.

“kook.” she moans.

No she does NOT.

She didn’t moan. She just asked. But I’d love to hear her moan. When I ease into her and start fucking her with slow, languid strokes…I'd fucking love to hear that voice moan for me. For my cock.

Is she the loud type? Would she scream? Whimper? Cry?

My cock twitches, hardening by the second. It’s almost painful at this point, the viagra pumping in my veins and throwing my head in a frenzy.

Fuck, I literally want to fuck the shit outta her.

My eyes snap back to her eyes, cheeks growing red when I notice I’ve been staring at her thighs.

Great.

Now I look like a perverted asshole.

“sorry,” took me too long to respond.

Dammit.

I try to adjust my position, throwing an arm over my crotch to cover the raging hard-on. Casually.

Almost too casually, apparently, because that catches her attention.

She bats her eyelashes once at me, in what seems to me a mix of perplexity and frustration.

Same. Im also frustrated out of my mind.

But apart from that, im disappointed.

Almost angry, even.

I love y/n. as a fucking friend. Not literally. I mean, at the moment, I’d love to fuck her-

Ive said that too many times, havent i?

Anyway, she’s a friend. A really good friend. A best friend.

I always had a deep care towards her, always felt the need to be there for her just as she was for me.

So that proves the point as to why im damn disappointed in myself.

When I took that viagra pill, I hadn’t expected to be so drawn to her. I never saw myself thinking- more accurately, fantasizing- about her this way.

She’s comfortable. Platonic.

I thought it wasn’t a big deal. Thought I'd get myself a one night stand and satiate the horniness I'd feel when I took the damn pill. Call y/n a cab and go back home with a hooker on my dick.

I almost cringe.

But instead of doing just that? I panicked and looked for her. Searched the crowds for her. Called out for her and asked her to come with me.

I thought it was a good idea to take her to my car. Drive her to my apartment. Where I live alone. At half-passed midnight.

My thoughts were driven by her, seeming to believe that I’d calm down if I set my eyes on her.

I was the biggest dumbass.

Here I fucking am, horny out of my mind, for my best friend of all people.

I want her as a friend. No…need. I need her as my friend.

And lord help me, I'm horny for my bestie.

“was distracted.” I clear my throat, scratching at my nape awkwardly.

“why are you blushing?” there's the slightest hint of amusement in her tone, curiosity clouding her soft irises.

“me? Blushing?” I snort. I don’t blush. What a stupid question to ask.

Instead of verbally replying to me, she shifts her eyes rapidly towards the rear view mirror then flicks them back to me, as if telling me to ‘see for myself’.

I do just that, and all earlier amusement is replaced with embarrassment when I realize that, fuck, I am blushing.

Im fucking blushing.

My cock hurts.

Im sweating.

Discomfort swirls in my mind.

Horniness clouds my vision.

She laughs at me expression, which only deepens my frustration.

Only when I remain stoic, does her laugh die down. She looks to be confused once again, probably because she’s not used to me being so serious.

Usually, we’d laugh it off. We make fun of anything and everything, even sometimes each other.

So for her to burst out laughing and me not to join her?

that’s weird for us.

Honestly, she has a right to be confused.

Never once since I had met y/n had I seen her in the light im seeing her in right now.

Naked.

Choked.

Ruined.

Fucked.

My eyes glue to her lips and I can’t seem to tear my gaze away.

I cant help it.

Im not even aware im doing it.

How would they feel? Soft?

Would she kiss slow, soft, and passionate?

Or rough, hard, and hungry?

When I remain silent and tense, she speaks with even more evident amusement.

“if you wanna kiss me, you could just ask…” she trails off into another light laugh.

Okay, she’s trying to lighten up the mood.

Except, my eyes cant help but flutter shut at the image of her lips on my own with her on my lap. Grinding on my lap. Moaning into my mouth. Smiling against my lips.

My cock fucking hurts.

This time, when I pull my eyebrows together and pinch my nose bridge in exasperation, she doesn’t let it slide.

Her brows pull in their own adorable frown as she eyes me weird.

She’s trying to read me, I realize.

She opens her mouth, but I beat her to it.

“don’t say things like that.” Just above a hard whisper. my cock throbs and I have to lean my head against the headrest. I face forward, not wanting to torture my poor dick any longer by looking at her. “not to me, y/n.”

I cant fucking breathe.

My eyes hooded and on the dark, moonlit sidewalk facing the forefront of my apartment, I try to calm my breathing.

In…out…in…out…

Nope.

Not working.

“relax.” She's growing irritated.

Good.

Maybe then she'd leave so I can stop myself from doing something I'd regret.

Except im parked in front of my building in my car.

And it’s way too late for her to go back to her place alone.

I almost scoff at how ridiculous that sounds.

y/n? alone? On the streets? Wearing that?

Fuck no.

I cant relax.

“you went quiet again.” Huh?

I turn my neck to her, head still on the headrest.

She reads the question in my eyes, “you wandered off. Again. You’ve done it multiple times by now.” She mumbles.

Shit.

Well, I cant just tell her Im horny out of my mind for her.

Instead, I say, “just got something on my mind. A little distracted.”

“but you’re never distracted like this, jungkook.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“it means you're giving me excuses.” She speaks louder now, more clearly. “you chew on your bottom lip when you're distracted. Your eyes grow doe and wide, giving you a ‘deer in the headlights’ type of look. You run your hands through your hair too many times, as well.”

Ignoring the flutter in my chest because ‘damn, she noticed all those things about me?’, I stare at her in question. “so?”

“so, you’re not distracted. Something's obviously wrong and you’re not telling me.” She lets a hint of frustration slip through. “you seem angry. Irritated. Your hand's clenching around the wheel so hard, your knuckles are white.”

I loosen my hold, now realizing I am.

“your eyes arent round and thoughtful. Theyre hard and hooded. You havent ran your hands through your hair once- and you even scratched your neck.”

“look-“

“you’ve been doing that tongue thing with your cheek for the last twenty minutes!”

Throwing her hands around the cramped space of the car in exasperation, her voice raises.

My mouth opens only to close again.

She’s left me speechless, and fuck, I want her even more badly than ever before.

I panic.

It’s between picking her up and taking her up to my bedroom, or finding a way to get her out of here…fast.

“take my keys.” I remove my car key from the ignition, opening her palm and closing it around it. “drive to your apartment.”

She gapes at me.

“I’ll take a taxi to yours and get the car back tomorrow morning. Or you can come pick me up and we'll figure something out. Call if anything happens.”

I grab my jacket from the backseat, discreetly concealing my crotch with it as I hop out of the car.

The cold night's breeze smacks my cheeks harshly, giving me a weird type of relief.

I relish the distraction from my thoughts for as long as possible as I walk to the building without looking back.

If I turn around and find her staring at me, she’ll be sore and begging by tomorrow morning.

Limping to the bathroom to wash my cum off.

I shake my head at my immaturity.

Get a godforsaken grip.

Except when im just about taking the first steps toward the apartment building, I hear my passenger car's door open and close, with the clanking of high heels against asphalt reaching my ears.

y/n halts in front of me when I remain frozen in place, and all I can do is curse under my breath at the absurdity of the situation.

“what you're doing is unfair.” With her head held high, she cranes her neck back to stare at me.

She’s hella irritated.

And frustrated.

Again, bestie, same.

“go home, y/n.” or else I'll do something that we’ll both regret.

“or what?”

Or I’ll ruin our friendship.

But I don’t say that.

“why am I expected to just listen?” her voice hardens with distaste. “you’ve ruined my night.”

“ruined your night?” I can’t help the dry tone that bleeds into the rasp of my voice into the cold night air.

“I met this guy, you know.” She laughs, but it’s humorless. Sad. I use her tone to distract myself, knowing that if I dwelled on what she had just said too much, I was gonna bury that “guy” six feet under by tomorrow. “it was going well. Thought I had a chance with him.” Like hell she did.

A muscle in my jaw ticks.

She averts her gaze to look at the concrete beneath us, only to stare up at me with resignation.

“but then you came. You happened. You grabbed my wrist and told me to come with you. I didn’t ask, and here we are.”

My eyes soften.

“tell me what’s wrong, please.”

“okay.”

Her eyes brim with hope.

“yeah?”

Fuck. Me.

“yeah. Let’s go up first. I cant have you freezing under my watch.”

She nods before a rough shiver racks her body, as if she’d just now realized how cold the night air kissing her cheeks really is.

Considering my still rock-hard cock and painful arousal, I can’t put my jacket on her. I cant give it to her, because then she’d see. Im already burning the hell up and am profusely sweating, which im sure she notices.

She’s been eying me with curiosity for a while now, trying to figure out what actually is wrong with me.

I don’t blame her.

Shivers relentlessly rack her body as her hair blows with the wind.

So I sling an arm over her shoulders and rub her arm with my hand, desperate for some sort of friction to warm her up, leading us both into and up the building to my apartment.

Unlocking the door and pushing it open, y/n walks in quietly behind me.

It’s unnerving.

She hasn’t said a thing.

Yet.

Oh, boy. Here we go.

“Y/n-“

As soon as I turn around, her lips are moving in the softest rhythm imaginable.

She speaks and those bright pink pillows move, and the horny haze blocking my sight highlights her lips’ movements.

My cock pulses when she bites her lip.

What the fuck.

My eyes remain focused on her lips- and yes, im aware of how uncomfortable that must make her feel- even as she sways with a half-step.

She rubs her palms together, and when she looks up at me with innocent eyes and a sheepish smile?

I want to ruin her.

If she lets me…nothing about this night is going to end up “innocent”.

My eyes darken when I realize what she had just said.

“I noticed your boner, like, twenty minutes ago.”

I open my mouth to speak, but I close it right back when I don’t find anything to say.

Im at a loss for words.

Fuck, her lips are so soft. And swollen. And soft.

So fucking soft.

Focus, asshole.

Her lips tip up in an attempt of making me smile along with her, but all she gets in return is a grumpy scowl.

Not gonna lie, if I wasn’t such a horny prick right now? I wouldve laughed with her.

But now, all I could do is scowl in response.

Which makes her almost-smile fall.

I didn’t scowl at her. I scowled at the boner.

But she doesn’t know that, asshole.

Kill me now.

She clears her throat. “I also…um…” well that’s unlike her. “I saw you take that viagra thing. You know…the thing that made you so horny you’re scowling at me.”

Now that makes me snort. Loudly.

She laughs with me.

I almost forget my aching cock at the sight of her smile.

“so what happens now?”

“let me kiss you.”

We both speak at the same time, and my eyes widen in sync with hers.

Her mouth hangs open, and I look away in embarrassment.

Why the fuck is she eying me like that?!

What did she expect?

I’m horny.

She's here.

Doesn’t need a genius to piece it together.

Or maybe im an idiot who shouldn’t have thought about it that way.

But im also an idiot who took a viagra pill for a dare.

Im so horny I'd fuck a wall, for fuck’s sake!

I rake a hand through my hair in frustration…and something that achingly resembles resignation.

My cock hurts, man.

I’m sick of this shit.

“what?” I bite out.

She continues to gape at me.

My eyes droop low and slowly go over her dress.

My patience simmers on high heat as my anger almost boils over.

It’s either she gets the fuck out of my sight or she puts me out of my misery.

She's a goddess I’d be on my knees to worship in a heartbeat.

I can think of a lot of ways I can worship the effort she put into this goddamn dress.

I’m willing to fucking beg.

I am.

“you want to kiss me?”

Well, no shit, Sherlock. Didn’t she hear me zay exactly that?

“yes, y/n, I want to kiss you.” I snap impatiently.

Maybe if I wasn't in physical pain I wouldn't be such a prick.

When her eyes gloss over and she avoids eye-contact, there’s this prickly feeling that something’s on her mind.

“what is it?” I ask, making sure to soften my tone.

She shakes her head.

Fuck no.

I step closer to her, forgetting about my cock for the sake of communication, and swipe the hair barricading the frame of her face to tuck behind her ear.

Her neck remains craned down in an awkward situation, and im incredibly aware of how clear of an image she has of my boner.

She doesn't make fun of it, though.

She just stares at it, which kind of makes me uncomfortable.

So to get her to stare at my eyes, instead, I hook my index finger under her chin and lift her face up.

Her eyebrows pinch in a confused frown and her lips push forward in an adorable question.

I stroke her chin with my thumb.

What? It just feels right.

“ask.”

“what?”

“I know you want to ask me something. You always go quiet when you do.”

She tries to avoid my gaze again, but I pinch her chin firmly, keeping her right where I want her to be.

She looks up at me, and fuck.

Those eyes.

“I know im being kind of an asshole.” She hums and I chuckle. “but don’t let that get to your head. Im also your best friend.”

She smiles.

“your very horny best friend.”

She breathes out a soft laugh.

“so, as your best friend, please tell me what is it?” I reason with her. she's always been this stubborn. Wont ever tell me what’s on her mind unless I pry. “Tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours.”

It’s like I can feel her resolve melt right in front of my eyes.

My pretty little y/n. all she needs is pretty words and empty promises to give in.

The reminder of the guy she met tonight sneaks back into my conscience, along with the tiny slit of the dress she was wearing.

High heels and high ponytails.

Sex, money, feelings.

I cant help but physically weaken at the thought of someone else touching her like this.

Their hand on her chin tilting her face up. The way she simply obliges by the movement and shows no intention of rebellion against it.

Fuck…what if she had refused to come with me tonight?

Would she have fucked him?

Should I even care?

“do you want to fuck me because im the only available option?”

The words are out of her mouth one second, and by the next, my lips are on hers’.

I kiss her with feverish dreams.

I kiss her with a hard cock.

I kiss her with a passion I had no idea of possessing.

Fuck, I kiss her.

I slip my tongue in her mouth with a moan.

I revel in the way her breath stops when I slide it against hers’.

I smile when she bites my lip for a stance of dominance.

Except I know for a fact that if I wanted to, I could have her punished and writhing for my cock in a minute.

I kiss her.

And she kisses me back.

When she scratches against my scalp and pulls at the strands of my hair, arching her back against me, I'm hit with the sudden realization of her earlier question.

She wants me to be attracted to her.

Desperately.

She’s kissing me- devouring my lips, even- pushing and pulling and arching her body against mine because she wants me to want her.

Dare I even say, she wants me to want her as much as she does me.

She wants me.

y/n desperately wants me.

The best friend I’ve known for years has been yearning for my touch, and I’ve been oblivious to it.

Stupid motherfucker.

My cock restrains when I slide my hands over her body, holding everything I can reach, but staying respectful. I inch toward the curve of her ass, but stop.

My hands barely graze the round of her breast, but I don’t go further.

Because I don’t know that she wants me. It’s a deducted conclusion, yet not a fully proven one.

Im giving her a chance to back down.

I rest my hands on her waist, and push her body closer to mine, craning my neck and giving in to the kiss deeper.

She bites my lip again, pulling it with her teeth and my eyes almost roll back at the feeling.

I'm torturing myself.

My cock aches for release and my body calls for her.

Yet, I just cant get enough of her damn lips.

She pulls away- reluctantly- with wide eyes and a crazed expression.

All swollen lips and smudged lipstick.

I almost whimper.

“wait.” She blinks away and I can almost feel her mind drift off.

She disentangles her body from mine and runs her hands through her hair, as if trying to regain a semblance of control over herself.

“hey.” Calling out softly, I reach out for her, for some of her.

I want her so fucking badly.

She doesn’t reply, only taking a step back and shaking her head.

My hand falls.

I push away my horny thoughts for a second.

Is that…regret I see on her face?

“y/n.” I call out again, mind swirling harder and only growing more drowsy by the second.

“you just kissed me.”

“I did.”

“why?”

What's that supposed to mean?

“because I wanted to?” my confusion is palpable.

“you didn’t answer my earlier question.” She doesn’t look at me.

She doesn’t look at me and my heart near sinks.

What question?

“do you want to fuck me because im the only available option?”

Oh. That.

“what?” is all I can say.

I don’t know what to say.

“you want to fuck me, right?” she doesn’t fucking look at me.

Why wont she look at me?

My shoulders tense and my eyebrows knot.

Would that be such a crime? Us fucking?

Apparently so, to miss y/n.

I thought she wanted me?

Guess I was wrong.

“yes.” I do.

“why?”

“what the fuck do you mean, y/n?” I cant help the rough edge that bleeds into my tone.

I thought we were getting somewhere.

She let me kiss her.

“why do you want to fuck me?”

“because I want to?”

I take a step closer, and she takes one back.

What the fuck?

“you’ve taken a sex pill, jungkook.” And?

I stay silent.

“that pill makes you horny.”

I hum impatiently, urging her on.

“we’ve been best friends for seven years, and you just now want to fuck me and do things to me?”

A sadistic chuckle rips out of my chest. I feel my heart bleed, but I try to shift the feeling to ice in my veins.

Except white hot lust is literally pumping through my system, and it’s with great effort that im able to contain my impulse.

Oh, and, by the way?

Pretty eyes still won't look at me, and it makes my blood boil.

Fucking boil, I tell you.

Would I pull her close and tell her to voice her insecurities if I didn’t want her?

If I didn’t care for her?

Would I kiss her?

“you’re not answering me, jungkook.”

Her eyes are not on mine and im panicking.

Does she think im using her?

“you wanna know why I want to fuck you?”

At my ice cold tone, she finally looks up.

And when I begin my stride toward her slowly cowering frame, she goes on with taking retreating steps.

“why I want to ruin you?”

Another step closer, met with another step back.

“why I want to hear your scream my name?”

I can see her clench her legs together, and when she bumps against the wall with a shiver, all I can do is laugh bitterly.

The predator and prey trance ceases when I halt in front of her with both hands against the wall on either side of her head.

Im caging her in, and she's shivering underneath my scrutiny.

It does little to satiate the inhumane sadistic urges containing me.

“tell me why.”

My hand slides down, down, down, until I find the curve of her hip and firmly hold my hand there.

“you don’t get to call the shots.” A squeeze at her hip. “not here,” my neck drops until my breath is met with the curve of her ear. I let my voice deepen into a rasp when I come dangerously close to the lobe of her ear. “not now.”

Her breath hitches, and when I step between her legs and pull her body flush against mine, all she's able to do is gasp.

My hand’s on her waist, arching her back as she’s pressed against me. The feeling of my thigh against her heat is driving me farther than insane.

I can feel the slick between her thighs on mine, wetness seeping through her panties and onto my jeans. I’m sure she can feel my rigid outline through my slacks, because she has the audacity to shift her thigh so that it connects with my arousal.

A little harsher contact than usual.

I cant help but hiss.

Everything she does now is ten times more heightened, but im not sure she knows that.

When I move my thigh toward her core in return, she grinds back onto it.

A small whimper graces my ears.

“now who’s being needy?” a humorless chuckle.

Belittling.

Humiliating.

But she couldn’t care less as she breathlessly moans in return and starts to ride my thigh.

Pathetic.

Turns me on.

I press my thigh even farther up her core as confirmation.

She moans louder this time, the sound like music to my ears.

“still wanna know the answer to your stupid question?” I smirk against her ear with a slight lilt of tease in my voice, knowing if she wasn’t riding high on a wave of pleasure, she would’ve- without a doubt- smacked me or poked my rib playfully.

But the thing is, she can’t.

She closes her eyes, frantically growing more needy with every bump and grind of her pussy against my clothed thigh.

She’s close when she gasps and clutches my bicep for support.

“not so easy.” I take her moment of vulnerability as payback for what she’s had me go through tonight.

Im in physical pain.

And im damn willing to make her suffer.

She audibly whines when I completely pull myself away from her, taking a victorious step back.

I just robbed her of her orgasm.

Ha.

“what the fuck?” she grows defensive now, coming nose-to-nose with me as she gets all in my face.

Cute.

My smile’s wolfish.

That only irritates her more, and I honest-to-god expect her to punch me right here and now…

But she doesn’t.

Instead, she lets out a huff- a fucking adorable one- and stalks off.

She hastily grabs her purse and shoves a hand in it, seemingly searching for her phone.

My smile instantly drops.

“what are you doing?” distaste.

She doesn’t answer me.

In an instant, she’s shoving the door open and the next, im walking over to her, pushing the door closed and turning her around.

Calmly.

I have no fleeting idea how the fuck I managed to keep myself controlled.

I pin her against the wooden door with a hand on the side of her neck and another on her middle.

“when I ask you a question,” my head dips down and I gently graze my nose against her jaw. “you answer it.”

She shoves me, clutching my shirt and crumpling it when she tries to push me away.

But her body does otherwise.

She arches against me and her breathing grows ragged.

She’s almost as turned on as I am, her nipples pebbled and hard through the sheer material of the dress.

So when she pushes me away, I remain rooted in place with a mocking smile on my lips.

“no.”

“no?” she echoes, infuriated and almost resigned.

A low hum reverberates as my confirmation.

“why?” she asks so quietly I strain to hear her, even through our very close proximity.

I can hear her heartbeat racing.

But it’s not even close to the rate of mine.

“because I want you.” A rough whisper.

A vulnerable confession.

“then kiss me.”

She wont have to ask me twice.

When my lips finally reconnect with hers’ in a dreamy haze, she kisses me back with insane need.

Im afraid once I start, I wont be able to stop.

Im not even sure I would want to.

Her purse falls to the floor as she circles her arms around my neck, pulling me down and further into the poison that is her.

She’s a drug.

And count me fucking addicted.

She bites my lower lip and tugs, shamelessly drawing blood and fuck if this girl will be able to walk tomorrow.

“I want you.”

I pull away as much as she allows me to, but my lips are barely off of hers’ and on her throat before she grabs my face and makes out with me again.

All I can do is moan into the dream that is her mouth in return.

She tries to take her heels off- failing miserably with her growing more preoccupied with my mouth by the second.

I groan impatiently and bite her lip, tasting her with my tongue and never getting enough it.

Her whimpers and my grunts get lost somewhere along our undying need for each other.

“up.” She jumps at the command, legs latching onto my middle which I catch and hold on to.

Our mouths remain one as I carry us both to my bedroom.

Fuck me if I aint taking this seriously.

Ive been wanting this girl for I don’t know how long, been in denial for even longer.

How could anyone not want her?

Her hair, her lips, her body, her eyes, her nose, her damn lips.

Those fucking lips.

My end, my demise.

She detangles them from our very sloppy make-out to lazily drag them along the column of my throat.

Slowly,

Boldly,

Teasingly.

I cant help but grind up into her in response.

I guess the low approving growl that reaches her ears turns her on, because she grinds back even wilder.

Feeling like I will most definitely combust, I set her on her feet in the middle of the hallway.

Her eyes round in confusion as to why I stopped just barely two steps away from my bedroom.

I could take her there.

On her knees, ass up.

On her back, knees apart.

On me, back arched.

But my cock aches and im two minutes away from begging if she doesn’t let me be inside her for another second.

This is torture.

She is torture.

So I give her mouth one last sloppy kiss before turning her around and-gently- pushing her against the wall. She winds up with her cheek pressing against it as well as her tits restrained in the tight confinement between her body and the solid concrete wall.

Pressing the palms of her hands on it for balance, she yelps when I grab her hips and pull them towards me.

She’s like a doll I can throw around however I like.

And im bewildered how easy she’s letting me off.

Under other circumstances, I would’ve gotten a huff or a whine in protest, but now?

She pushes her ass farther against my crotch and grinds.

She grinds her fucking ass on my dick and I think I might cry from the pain of wanting to be inside her.

Enough waiting.

I roughly pull the hem of her dress above the arch of her ass and fuck if it isnt the prettiest sight.

She lets out a sigh which turns into a moan when I land a light-careful- spank on her ass.

It’s careful because I don’t know what she likes.

Rough and hungry?

Sweet and slow?

The former would be more convenient, considering the circumstances of us being horny out of our minds.

But the latter would be more pleasant, especially since her body is way more delicate than I could ever imagine.

I wouldn’t force anything on her, of course.

Goddamn it, im gagged.

She spreads her legs wider for me as she grinds, moaning “more” in the most pornographic voice ive ever heard.

A pained groan and a harder slap is what she gets for that.

That torment.

The thong she’s wearing almost bares her pussy to me, and at that particular sight, I am a mad man.

I pull her thong down down down, and pull her ass up up up.

She glistens with the evidence of her arousal, and a low groan of pleasure shamelessly escapes me.

“You’re unbelievable.” Shock.

“In a good way?” Confused.

Getting on my knees as fast as I can, I latch my mouth onto her opening and do what I shouldve done a long time ago.

I worship the incredible goddess that’s been right in front of my eyes for ages.

I nibble, lick, and suck, moaning into her pretty pretty pussy.

She’s so fucking pretty.

I hope she knows it.

At least after this, I’ll make damn sure she gets that fact straight.

Unbelievable.

She is.

She moans and moans and moans, and all I need is a little friction to cum in my restraining boxers.

So I do what I need to; palm my dick through my jeans while I bury my face into her pussy.

So fucking beautiful.

Just like I imagined.

I suck her clit into my mouth and suck, in which she bucks her hips into my face in a moaning plea for more.

Toying with her clit and nibbling on her sinful taste has me on my knees. Literally.

I wouldn’t hesitate to fucking beg this woman.

If she asked me to? There’s probably nothing that would make me say no to her.

Nothing.

Im afraid im already obsessed.

She grinds once onto my mouth, gasping once she’s realized what she'd done.

“it feels good?” I press an open-mouthed kiss on her opening, using my tongue to tease into it.

She whimpers loudly, her legs opening wider for me.

“such a needy slut.”

She whines at that, and with no warning I push two fingers into her aching heat.

Her very, very, wet and soaking heat.

A barely audible gasp is out of her mouth when I push another finger in and take her clit back into my mouth, squeezing her ass-cheek with my free hand.

“what do you want?” and I start fucking her with my fingers.

“please…” her breath hitches right when I curl them, reaching a spot that made her clench around me and buck her hips wildly against my face.

“you wanna cum? Huh? All up against my mouth?”

She’s fucking dripping all over me, and it's just about the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

I continue my ruthless finger-fucking until I feel her moans build up so high I have to spank her ass.

“shhh, baby. You’re doing so well.” I massage the red hand-print gently, slightly guilty at the rough spank I delivered. “let’s not give the neighbors a show they didn't ask for.”

But fuck, I love hearing her moan for me.

My movements don’t stop as they even heighten in intensity, but all I hear is her harsh breathing in return.

She chose to be obedient.

“Good girl.”

She whines quietly, and she clenches around my moving fingers again as she inches closer to her orgasm.

“yeah?” im waiting for her confirmation.

“yeah.” She says breathlessly, her hips arching further as she shamelessly offers her dripping pussy to me.

Goddamn the effect this woman has on me.

My cock twitches with the reminder of my horniness, and my breath grows ragged along with hers.

My fingers remain unrelenting as I pick the pace up further and curl them, sucking her clit into my mouth and toying with it using my tongue.

Breathing seems to be a far possibility for me when she clenches her pussy so tight it's almost hard for me to move.

Like she’s holding me there.

“Cum for me, baby.”

A high moan barely escapes her as she muffles the sound with her hand. Biting on her hand to quiet down, she reaches her orgasm and I moan when her legs shake.

She’s trembling, fucked out as she grinds back on my mouth with her hand covering hers.

I rub my cock through my jeans only once, and that’s all it takes for me to cum with her.

I tongue-fuck her through her orgasm, my hand on my clothed cock persistent, even as it gets a little uncomfortable.

She quietly begs me when I’ve overstimulated her, so I press one last kiss to her pussy and get on my feet.

Y/n holds onto the wall for support before straightening her back and leaning her weight against me.

She breathes heavily and her eyes are closed when she wobbles around to look at me.

Is she too spent already?

Too bad.

We’re nowhere near done.

“take me to bed.”

“we’re not done yet.”

“I didn’t say we were.”

She gets on her toes, pressing a sloppy kiss to my mouth as she fondles with my shirt.

I suck on her tongue when she opens a button and slips a hand into my shirt, feeling me up with her nails. She scratches me on my chest, on my abs, and wherever her hands can reach.

My cock goes back to its aching state, at that.

“mm, baby.” I pull back and exhale a sigh when she successfully unbuttons my shirt and throws it on the ground.

She guides a single finger over my abs- which flex as an approving reflex- and plays with the waistband of my boxers peeking out of my pants.

I’m reminded with the sticky material pressing against me right then and there, and she noticed the damp spot over my crotch when she pulls my pants down.

She looks up in surprise, apparently shocked that I’m so horny I came in my damn boxers.

Not gonna lie, a first for me, too.

I smirk. “surprised?”

“very.” She laughs.

I like this. Her. I can be who I am with this woman.

I can laugh with her during foreplay, for example.

On her knees, she looks up at me through innocent eyes and dark lashes as she pulls the barrier of my boxers down.

She stares at my length, appearing impressed- and scared- at the sheer size of it.

“fuck. You drive me insane.” A low grumble of bewilderment.

“I know.” A giggle of satisfaction. “you wanna fuck my throat?”

Judging off the fact that she goes to take me in her mouth, probably thinking I’ll say ‘yes’, she presses a kiss to the tip of my cock before sucking it into her mouth.

Such a fucking tease.

But we’re not doing this.

Not now.

I struggle to suppress a moan, pulling her up by her hand as I shake my head.

“Maybe another time.”

She stares at me with a scrunch of confusion in her brows before nodding in understanding.

I take her hand in mine and wrap it around my cock, stroking it once

Her eyes droop low in a shadow of wanting need as she watches the movement with her bottom lip between her teeth.

As I guide her through the hand job, I pull her to me by the neck, her hand in mine stuck between our bodies as I kiss her with feverish need.

Her rhythm accelerates and she squeezes me, making my orgasm almost tip over the edge.

I hold back with all my might as I loudly release a pornographic moan in her mouth, as to which she smiles into the kiss in return.

She bites my lips and pulls it to her before releasing it, sucking on my tongue right after. Stroking me even faster as she presses her mouth to me farther.

I can barely keep up, bur I’m not complaining.

It’s been a while since I’ve had sex this hungry.

She’s impatient and I’m testing her limits.

But I’m afraid my limits were crossed over in the process.

Apparently in the mood to torture myself now more than ever, I pull both of our hands away from my cock right as I’m about to cum.

“what’s wrong-“

“I need to be inside you.” She closes her mouth shut.

“need to feel you around me.” I kiss her.

“need to cum inside of you.” She moans.

“who's stopping you?”

Well damn.

Right to the point.

“shut up.” As I carry her to my bedroom.

Neither of us have time to contemplate anything as I set her gently on the bed.

She slightly bounces, at which she giggles at as I get rid of the bunched up dress at her waist.

Pulling it over her head, her tits bounce as she plops back onto the mattress and takes me down to her by her grip on my neck.

“easy, baby.” I smirk before her lips are on mine. “I’m not going anywhere.”

We're both naked.

Skin to skin.

Me and my best friend.

My cock glides easily along her pussy, a result of her being so wet.

For me.

Pretty baby’s as horny for me as I am for her.

“gonna let me fuck you good?” I pant as my hips accelerate in rhythm, bumping and grinding against her. “huh?”

She moans when my tip nudges her clit, and I do it again and again as we both grow needier.

Hungrier.

More and more desperate for the feel of each other.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to go back once I’ve gotten a taste of her.

So I take my damn time.

Her hot, wet pussy glides smoothly along my length as I grind on her frantically.

We’re like horny bunnies in heat, eager for release.

Unable to wait any longer, I stroke my cock once before nudging it along her entrance.

She moans at that, and looks down as she watches me jerk myself off with the tip inside her.

I stroke myself only once more, and she says, “do that again.”

She likes watching me jerk-off?

Well, fuck.

“you like that?”

She moans and clenches around my tip when I stroke myself again. Writhing underneath me makes her look borderline desperate as she pants.

Her tits go up and down in rhythm with her rushed breathing, and her peaked nipples beg for attention.

I take a nipple in my mouth, entering y/n one inch further.

A little sigh of contentment is all I get before she clenches around me so hard my breath is cut off.

I groan around her nipple, slightly biting on it as I release it with a pop.

I go slow the rest of the way it takes me to fully nestle inside y/n’s pussy.

She feels heavenly, so warm and wet and- heavenly.

My eyes are hard on the spot where my pelvis meets hers in an incredible show of intimacy, and my jaw clenches from how fucking tight she is.

y/n catches my attention by digging her nails into my forearm, silently pleading me to look at her.

So I do.

And, fuck. I might bust a nut right here and now.

y/n’s crying.

A tear runs down her face and she sniffles. Once.

I smooth a palm down her cheek, pushing stray strands away from her pretty face.

“what’s wrong?”

My cock is so deep in her that I’m 100% sure, if I press down on her stomach, I'll feel it there.

She struggles to answer me, her voice barely above a whisper when she whispers to me.

“it hurts.” Her voice breaks. “it hurts s-so good.”

The way her voice trembles and shakes is making it hard for me to breath.

Okay…

She’s an emotional fuck.

Such a pretty emotional fuck.

“You’re too big.”

I lock eyes with her when I slightly nudge my hips forward, her eyes snapping shut right when I do so.

Silently, I press a reassuring kiss to her lips which makes her open those pretty dreamy eyes for me.

“we’ll make it work.” With a deep sigh, I pull out of her only to slowly thrust my way back inside. “I’ll make it fit…” I snake a hand down her body to circle her clit gently. She whimpers. “…and it’ll feel good.”

She hums when I repeat my movements with slow reassurance, letting her adjust and take her time.

“look at you. Doing such a good job for me.”

She pulls me in deeper with her legs as they circle around my hips, caging me in as her nails graze my back.

She moans in my ears and I’m barely able to contain my damn hunger when she bites her lip while maintaining eye contact.

What on earth is happening to me.

Love?

Must be an insane amount of lust injected into my veins.

Does viagra have this long of an effect?

I’ve swam deep into this pool of desire, so lost in her eyes and breathy moans that I don’t notice how fast my thrusts have grown.

On a particularly harsh thrust, my hips brutally snap into hers as I pull out and do it again and again until she’s breathlessly moaning my name with tears in her eyes.

“yeah?” I dip my head into the damp crook of her neck.

She smells so damn sweet.

Like cherries, and….strawberries?

Maybe even a hint of vanilla.

Jesus christ.

Get a damn grip.

“it feels so good.” As she chokes on a sob.

“mhm?” I groan into her neck, the sound a low grumble of approval. “you wanna say that again?”

My hips are moving an animalistic speed at this point as she claws at my back and cries my name.

“jungkook!” a sob.

“you gonna cum for me? Huh?” I circle her clit again, and when I feel her clench so tight around me I can barely move, I know she’s cumming.

Without removing my face from her neck, I cover her mouth with my hand and snap my hips into hers again and again. Relentlessly.

“cum for me.”

She screams into my hand and bites it to muffle the sound, her body shaking under my own trembling body.

She whimpers as she comes down from her high, kissing my hand as a way of asking me to remove it.

My rhythm grows sloppy and lazy as my thrusts slow down, and with one last hard thrust into her, I’m biting into her neck with a rough “holy fuck” as I cum the hardest I've ever have in my whole 26 years of living.

I still inside her, unmoving as I kiss her neck lazily- apparently unable of giving up the sweet scent of her- as she runs her hands over my back and into my hair.

We stay like that for a while, both silent and content, the post-orgasm glow evident on both of our high faces.

Humming into the sweet taste of her throat, she giggles as the gesture seems to tickle her. One last kiss to her neck.

I roll off of her, careful not to crush her with my weight. We both grimace when I pull out of her, equally overstimulated.

We were horny best friends, frustrated and bothered just a little while ago.

Now?

We’re still best friends…I think.

Best friends who fucked like animals in heat.

But, unlike how I expected it to be, it’s not awkward at all.

When I turn my head to look at the beauty lying next to me, she has her eyes already closed as she seems to be dozing off to sleep.

I get up, making quick work to grab a glass of water and some damp towels, sitting back down next to her.

Cleaning her up only takes me a couple minutes to do the task as gently as I could, careful not to hurt her. I almost feel bad from how swollen and sore she’s going to be tomorrow.

I bend down and press a peck on her clit, the intention one of pure apology.

Maybe I went too hard.

“what’s that look for?” her voice speaks up from next to me.

“hm?”

“you’re frowning. Why?”

“I just- I'm sorry if I hurt you.” A small smile. “I got a bit carried away.”

“mm, you did.” She agrees.

Wait…did I actually hurt her?

She cackles at the hint of alarm in my eyes as she swats my arm.

“you’re okay, big guy. You didn’t hurt me…much.” She smiles a cheeky smile as she tries to stand up, wobbling as I grab her arm.

“you cried.” My voice is hoarse when I tell her that. It’s true. She cried, and it was the second hottest thing I’ve ever witnessed, first being her pretty pussy. “it was hot.”

She shyly smiles at me, bending down to kiss me softly. She waddles to the bathroom- naked- as she stops at the entryway to look back at me over her shoulder.

“come shower with me.”

Should I?

Don’t mind if I do.

“okay.” The soft look in my eyes disappears to make way to mischief. She cathces onto that too quick. “round two?”

She snorts at that. “I’m afraid I’d pass out.”

“I mean…”

She gasps, as if in betrayal.

“you’re not seriously considering it, are you?!”

I step closer to her, my hand on her neck before I claim her lips. “and what if I am?”

how's may treating everyone so far?

@hoseokteardrop @nochuel @kaitieskidmore97 @nays2112 @jksoftii @yu-justme @meadow-in-spring @bunnykoos @looneybleus @fushigurosdarling @alpha-mommy69 @junecat18 @xjiminsthighsx @tanniesdolls @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @whoa-jo @ahgasegotarmy116 @jksusawife @frgetmenotes @baechugff @partyparty-yah @army130613210521 @drugerlime @allisonstonex @hopekive @llallaaa @tarahardcore @hopetookmysoul @betysotelo18 @harmonic55 @ecrvea @awesomebabyyoda @peterstarkchrishiddleston @pinkrockstar19 @sweetestseoul @luv--youu @mochminnie @coletaehyung @whitelies2248-blog @ash07128 @bangtans-momma

@yourbobaeyestell @laylasbunbunny @btsnpniff @olimpiiaa @caro134340lina @ohsweetmimosa @lovingkoalaface @httpjeonlicious @t-alyssa2006 @aloverga @sexytholland

@skzthinker @whoa-jo @Noonabts36 @misshale21 @iammeandmeisiam @piyuna

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook ff #bts fanfiction #bts jungkook #jungkook smut #smut #jungkook fanfic smut #jk oneshot #jk oneshot smut #jungkook oneshot smut #jungkook oneshot #bsf!jk #angst #jungkook angst

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livwritesstuff · 29 days

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i went on a deep dive of the Steve & Hopper ao3 tag yesterday and and it got me thinking about what would happen if Chief of Police Hopper ran into Steve and Eddie while he was on patrol after pseudo-adopting Steve, and it’s been long enough that Hopper is sort of a safe-person for Steve so Steve goes into full-fledged bitch mode when Hopper tries to pull cop stuff on them, and Eddie (who knew about none of this because Steve is a chronic under-sharer) is so totally baffled.

He’d spent years watching Steve sweet-talk his way out of trouble. Even before they started hooking up it used to drive Eddie goddamn insane, because if (when) Eddie pulled any of this shit Steve gets away with, he’d be totally screwed, but all Steve has to do is flash a sheepish grin and run a hand through his hair once or twice and say, all baleful, “I really didn’t mean any trouble,” and he’s home free.

It has its perks though, or so he's learned during his last few months of hanging around with Steve, so when Steve and Eddie’s make-out session is interrupted by the tell-tale red and blue lights of a cop car pulling up behind where Steve parked the Beemer a few hundred yards down a maintenance road, Eddie’s not all that worried. In fact, he’s got a pretty good amount of faith in Steve’s ability to spin up some story to keep them out of any real trouble, and as Chief Hopper ambles over to them, Eddie prepares himself for a whole show of, “Yes Chief, sorry Chief, it won’t happen again Chief.”

So imagine Eddie's complete and utter surprise when Hopper barks, “Hey, morons! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” and Steve only rolls his eyes and says, “What’s it to you?”

Eddie feels his jaw drop.

“Steve,” he mutters through gritted teeth. He tries to elbow Steve into shutting the hell up, but he misses because Steve has already taken several steps forward to meet Hopper, his face turned up in a kind of defiance Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever seen on him before.

“What’s it to me?” Hopper repeats, glowering at Steve, “It’s midnight. I’m on patrol. You’ve got one of the most recognizable cars in this entire damn town parked in a restricted-access zone with this idiot–” Hopper gestures at Eddie (Eddie didn’t think the pointing or the idiot were necessary, but clearly, clearly, he’s missing something here), “–who’s been dragged into my station more times than I could count.”

“The town line, Hop, is over there,” Steve says, pointing at an indiscriminate spot over Hop’s shoulder that may or may not be part of the Hawkins town line, “We’re not even in Hawkins anymore. You’re totally out of your jurisdiction.”

“You wanna know something about jurisdiction, smart-ass?” Hopper asks, “If my report says shit happened in my jurisdiction, it happened in my jurisdiction.”

“Wow,” Steve deadpans, “Way to not sound totally corrupt. Nice work, Chief.”

Hopper’s jaw twitches for a second, and he’s clearly debating if he wants to keep arguing with Steve who, to Steve’s credit, looks like he’s got debate in him for days. Ultimately though, Hopper decides against it and stalks back over to his squad car.

“If you’re not home by one there’s gonna be hell to pay. You hear me, Harrington?” Hopper yells, “One AM. Hell to pay.”

“Oh, sure,” Steve rolls his eyes, “Totally hear you. One AM. Loud and clear or whatever.”

Steve flips the cruiser both birds as it peels away, which Hopper only flashes his high beams at a couple times before he’s gone, kicking up a bunch of dirt and mulch and leaves in his wake, and Steve is wearing an exasperated expression as he turns to face Eddie again.

“God, he’s so annoying. Let’s just go to my house.”

Eddie gapes at him.

“What the fuck was that?”

“Huh?”

“What the fuck was that?” Eddie repeated, gesturing wildly towards where Hopper’s car had just been.

“Wha– you mean with Hop?”

“Uh, yeah?!?”

Steve just brushed him off, “Whatever, just ignore him. He’s basically my dad.”

“What?”

#idk maybe this is pre-season 3. maybe it’s a no-upside down au. who knows #might expand this and post on ao3 later if i’m feeling it #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #jim hopper #steve jim father-son relationship my beloved

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pholla-jm · 6 months

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My Wife is Real

IMAGINE: MY WIFE IS REAL~ GOJO X WIFE!READER GENRE: FLUFF cw: not proof read. use of y/n. use of she/her. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Who do you think he’s texting?” Nobara whispers to her two classmates, Yuji and Megumi.

Their teacher, Gojo Satoru, sat at his desk. Legs kicked up onto the desk while he was on his phone, giggling here and there.

It was questionable if Gojo even knew that class had started.

Megumi didn’t even bother to pay attention. He also sat on his phone, scrolling through social media.

“I don’t know…” Yuji ponders. “Ugh, he has to be harassing a poor soul.” Yuji gasps at Nobara’s response, “no.”

Nobara sits up in her seat, “Gojo-sensei,” she calls out. Gojo peeks up, “oh. I didn’t know you were here.” “Maybe if you stopped bothering people, you would notice.”

Gojo places his hand on his chest and gasps dramatically. “I am not bothering anyone.” “Then who are you texting?” “My wife, duh.”

Nobara bursts out laughing, “hahaha, yeah… yeah right.” She wheezes. Tears left the corner of her eyes as she tried to take him seriously, but she really couldn’t.

Yuji just stares at him in confusion, “you’ve never told me about his wife. I don’t believe you.”

Gojo gasps in shock and disbelief at his student’s words. “Huh?! I do too have a wife. That hurts my feelings that you don’t believe me!”

Gojo’s full focus was on his students now. Trying to convince them that his wife is indeed real. “She’s literally the best person in the whole world, and the prettiest.”

Nobara scoffs and rolls her eyes, “stop making things up Gojo-sensei. It’s getting sad at this point.”

Gojo pouts at her words. He then grabs his phone, typing something in his phone. He puts his phone down with a triumphant smile on his face. “You’ll see.”

“Yeah… we’ll see.” Nobara says to Megumi and Yuji.

Megumi on the other hand was not paying attention to a single thing that was going on. He assumed something stupid was going on, so why even bother to pay attention? Yuji just has a thoughtful look on his face, trying to remember any mention of a wife. But there is no mention of one.

“Yeah… I think you’re making this up… sorry Gojo-sensei.” “This is just getting sad…” Nobara whispers while shaking her head.

“I can’t believe my student’s have little faith in me.”

Only five minutes passed of slight bickering between until a knock was heard at the door. The bickering died down and all heads turned towards the door.

Nobara’s and Yuji’s eyes widen seeing a woman at the door.

“Who is that?” Yuji whispers to Nobara. She shrugs her shoulders, “has to be someone he hired.”

Gojo jumps from his chair, a huge smile on his face. “Wifey!”

He runs over to you, pulling you into a tight hold.

You let out a strangled gasp from the impact. “Gojo,” you start, “this is the second time you forgot your lunch… and it’s only Tuesday.”

Gojo pulls back, a faux pout on his lips, “I’m sorry.” You narrow your eyes at him, “I bet you’re just using this as an excuse to see me.” “Whoops, you caught me. Well, while you’re here. Let me introduce you to my students.”

“Wait wait-” You didn’t get a chance to stop him because he dragged you into the front of the classroom.

You eye the three students. Megumi had finally put down the phone, giving you an apologetic look. Nobara and Yuji were looking at you in shock.

“Students, this is my wife, (y/n).” Gojo basically shows you off with a bright smile on his face. Hands in a jazz hand formation. You nervously smiled at the students.

“Hello.”

“Hello Gojo-san.” Megumi quietly said, but it was still loud enough for everyone to hear. You gave the boy a sweet smile, nodding at him.

“What?! Do you know her?” Nobara and Yuji ask him. “Yes…”

“Yes, they’ve known each other for quite awhile now…. Sorry guys. She’s a bit shy.” Gojo says while you continue to smile at them.

“They didn’t believe Gojo-sensi had a wife..” Megumi tells you.

You hum before turning to Gojo, “I see… I don’t blame them.”

“Huh?! What is that supposed to mean?” You roll your eyes. “Ever so dramatic.” “...so mean.. How can my wife be so cruel?”

“Ugh, no one cares,” Nobara sighs, “come sit down with us (y/n)-sensei. I have so much to ask you.”

You just smile at the girl and move over to the desks.

Gojo looks at you with a shocked look. Not believing that you were leaving his side.

“What are you doing?” He asks you. You look back at him, “well, you wanted me to meet your students. So I’m getting to know them.”

You give him a little smirk and Gojo knows that type of smirk. The one where he’s going to regret his actions later.

Maybe not now, but he knows that this decision will come to bite him.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #oneshot #gojo fluff #gojou satoru x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n

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yandere-writer-momo · 8 months

Text

Not quite Yandere yet but here is a snippet of the Yandere single dad short story. And a kindergartener obsessed with you being his mom

Yandere Short Stories: Mommy (Prequel)

Eventual Yandere Single Father x Teacher Afab Reader

A pale hand shakily held the drawing his son, Jesse, made in horror. Who on earth could the smiling woman beside little Jesse be? Had another snake tried ti sink their fangs into the Isbert family once more?

Liam Isbert was the heir to the Isbert family. A man of extreme power and wealth who many women (and men) tried to woo. Only one had successfully baby trapped him which resulted in Jesse’s birth.

“Who is this woman?” Liam glared at the elderly nanny who frowned at Liam’s anger. “What kind of wench had been filling my child’s head with lies? She is not his mommy.”

“I assure you Miss (last name) is just his teacher. Your son is extremely attached to her.” The nanny told Liam which only made him angrier.

Impossible. She had to be after their family’s money and that’s why she sunk her fangs into a child. How cowardly!

“Notify the school that I wish to have a private meeting with his teacher.” Liam told the nanny as he ran a hand through his dark, wavy locks. Liam was so frustrated with these gold diggers. They were all the same…

He might have to homeschool Jesse now…

Liam sat in the back of his limousine as he watched Jesse excitedly run into the kindergarten. Liam has never seen his son so excited for anything in his life.

The brunette took a long drag from his cigar when he saw a beautiful young woman head towards Jesse. A smile as warm as a ray of sunshine on her face when she saw Liam’s son.

The little boy hurdled his small body into his pretty teacher. Jesse’s arms wrapped around her legs, while his blue eyes stared up at her with so much love it made Liam want to puke. How on earth did this woman charm his antisocial son?

Liam reeled down the window and was about to scream at her when he heard her laugh.

“Goodness, Jesse. It’s only been a day. Are you that excited to learn?” (Your name) smiled down at the dark haired boy who nodded his head.

“I just wanted to be with mom-“

“Jesse, it’s Miss (last name).” (Your name) ruffled Jesse’s dark brown hair which made the little boy pout. “I’m your teacher.”

“Why can’t you be my mommy? You’re so nice to me…”

(Your name) laughed as she bent down to pick Jesse up. “Because I would have to date your dad and I don’t really have any interest in men.”

Jesse thought for a minute and then he scrunched his face. “Daddy is kind of mean and he’s smelly.”

“You’re not supposed to say your daddy is mean or smelly!” (Your name) loudly giggled as she carried Jesse into her class.

Liam sat frozen in his limousine in shock. She didn’t want to date him? And… what did Jesse mean by him being mean and smelly?

“Sir, your meeting with the teacher will be at three in the afternoon. Do you want me to take you to the office.”

Liam shook his head and reeled up the limo’s window. “Yes. That would be nice, Allen.”

For the first time in many years, Liam felt his heart flutter.

“You must be Jesse’s dad. It’s nice to finally meet you.” (Your name) warmly smiled at Liam who remained silent. Liam couldn’t hear a word she said due to how loud his heart beat in his ear drums. His beating muscle would bring a snare drum to shame.

“Mister Isbert?” Liam was brought back down to reality when his teacher addressed him. His green eyes focused on her concerned expression. “About your reason no for a meeting… Jesse seems to be quite attached to me due to his lack of a mother. I try to correct him but he seems adamant about it. I am so sorry to inconvenience you-“

“What is your motive?” Liam narrowed his eyes at the young woman who seemed shocked. Motive? Whatever did he mean?

“What do you mean-“

“How much money do you want? I’m willing to pay you if you leave my son alone-“ Liam was shocked when (your name) slammed her hands on her desk when she stood up.

“How dare you… I’m sorry that other people have wanted such things from you but I do not. I care about Jesse. He desperately wants a parent that loves him and he’s not getting that from anyone in his house.” (Your name) scoffed at Liam’s shell shocked expression. The young woman shook her head. “This is extremely unprofessional of me, but you never spend any time with your son so I’m not surprised you don’t notice his concerning behavior of wanting to be loved.”

Liam gasped when she slapped a file in front of him that was full of letters from Jesse. Dozens of notes asking her to adopt him. Why did his son want this woman so badly?

“Be a better parent before you point fingers. Now get out of my classroom.”

Liam felt his cheeks heat up and his heart pound in his chest. She didn’t want his money… she just wanted Jesse to be cared for…

Liam was shocked to see Jesse outside the door. Jesse’s little hands clutched his lunch pail so tightly, his knuckles were white.

“Jesse-“ Jesse shoved past Liam to stand beside his teacher.

“Mommy, I want to eat lunch together! Can you cut the crust off my sandwich? I don’t like the crust.”

(Your name) smiled down at Jesse and took the lunchbox from him.

“It’s Miss (last name), Jesse… but of course I can take off the crust.”

And that’s when Liam noticed the pink blush on Jesse’s cheeks. Jesse loved his teacher… and who was he to separate them?

Liam shoved his hands in his suit jacket pockets and left the school in a hurry. His fingers itched for a cigar to try to calm down the rush of emotions he felt.

Perhaps he’d apologize to Miss (last name)? He wondered if she liked roses?

Liam blushed at the thought of her accepting roses from him. She’d be so pretty in red…

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nocturnalcharm · 1 month

Text

Faking It (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

𐙚 prompt: charles forces you and logan to do a mission together in order to help you bond. 𐙚 cw: enemies to lovers, one bed trope, if this does well i’ll do a part 2 w smut ;) cussing, 𐙚 a/n: thanks to everyone who's sent me req's! this wasnt a req but id already started it haha if youve sent a req ill try to get to it asap.... also so many ppl wanted to be added to a taglist but for the nsfw alphabet post i dont think it tagged like half the ppl?? so im sorry if u dont get tagged, im trying to fix it :)

18+ blog!! you are responsible for your own media consumption. if any of the above makes you uncomfortable, do not proceed.

“Professor, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“(Y/N), it’s not me you should be apologizing to. It’s your team. That’s who you both let down.” He eyes flick between you and Logan.

“I’ll go apologize to them now.” You turn to leave.

“You too Logan.” Charles says.

On this latest mission, you needed to sneak into a factory and take down all of the enemies— But you and Logan were arguing so loudly, you alerted all of the rivals, turning a few quick sneak attacks into full blown fights. No one was badly injured but you still felt horrible about it.

“This is all your fault.” You mumbled, just loud enough for Logan to hear.

“My fault? You’re kidding.” He huffs.

“Shut up.” You walk ahead of him, on the way to the common room to see your team.

Everyone was sitting there, talking amongst themselves. Once you and Logan entered, they all stopped their conversations and looked at you.

“Guys. I am so sorry about this mission.”

“I’m sorry, extremely sorry, and I apologize for my behavior.” Logan mocked your expression of regret.

“You are such a child, Logan! I’m trying to apologize!” You raised your voice.

“I am too!”

“Can you two just stop?” Hank stood up, silencing you both. “Your attitudes have been getting in the way of every mission. If you guys can’t get along then maybe you shouldn’t be here.”

“Oh..” You didn’t know how to respond. You couldn’t believe you let your dislike for Logan get in the way of your job, so much that they thought you shouldn’t be an X-Man anymore.

They all left the room, leaving just you and Logan to culminate in your thoughts.

“I think it’s pretty obvious we’re not going to get along any time soon.” He broke the silence.

“We’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah, whatever you say.” He walked out, as you sat in the empty room.

The next day, Xavier called you and Logan into his office yet again. You were concerned, worried he might be kicking you off the team. But instead, he said he had a mission for you two.

“I need you to pose as a couple. You’ll be going to an upscale hotel in Manhattan. It’s a cover for a drug smuggling ring. You two will stay as guests in order to collect information. I need everyone that is there, guests and workers alike, to think you two are madly in love. We don’t know who could be involved, so we can’t have them think anything suspicious.”

“Professor, is that the best idea? We just blew the last mission because we couldn’t stop arguing.”

“If you two fail this mission, I will have no choice but to replace both of you. You are amazing at what you do, but your arguing affects everyone. Not just yourselves.”

“Okay. We won’t let you down.” Logan speaks up.

***

The trip to the hotel was long and frustrating. You two couldn’t agree on anything the entire time. You criticized his driving, he criticized what you put on the radio, and how loud it was. You called him an old man, which just resulted in the radio being turned off and continuing the last hour drive there in silence.

When you arrived, it was late afternoon. Logan, pretending to be your fiance, grabbed all the bags by himself and walked inside. The hotel was huge. It was upscale, classy. So fancy you were afraid to touch anything, in fear it might break.

“Hi! Checking in for Anderson.” He greeted the front desk clerk, giving his forged name. He dropped the bags on the floor and you wrapped yourself around his now-free arm, squeezing it.

“Hello, Mr. Anderson.” She smiled back, “Let’s see. You had the penthouse, correct?”

“That’s right.”

“We’re celebrating our engagement!” You beamed, holding out your hand, showing off your fake engagement ring.

“That’s lovely. Congratulations! We’ll have a bottle of champagne in your room for celebration.”

“Thank you so much!” You squeaked.

He finished the check-in process, then you headed to the top floor.

The penthouse was absolutely gorgeous. It was huge, the size of a decent apartment. Just like the lobby, you were afraid to break something.

“Wow.. This is amazing. Only time I’ll ever get to stay in a penthouse and it’s with you.” You said, as he shut the door.

“I was just thinking the same thing. Now, c’mon we gotta go to the pool. Get changed.” He handed you your bag.

You opened it, pulling out your bikini. It was the only one you had, admittedly from a few years ago. You didn’t have time anymore to relax by a pool or go swimming in the ocean, so this swimsuit had to do. It was a simple black string bikini.

You went inside the bathroom to change. Once you had your swimsuit on, you felt a little self conscious at the amount of skin showing, but figured it’d help with the whole ‘can’t keep your hands off your new fiance’ vibe you and Logan needed to exude for this mission.

You walked out of the bathroom, faking confidence you didn’t have. Logan had taken the opportunity to just change in the living space since he was alone. He was wearing black swim trunks. It was funny, it looked like you two had matched on purpose.

“Wow.” He said quietly, clearing his throat.

“What? You like what you see?” You joked at his clear uncomfortableness with seeing you in such little clothing.

“Whatever, let’s just go.” He spat, grabbing two towels, the key, and exiting the room.

The second you were out the door, you both had big smiles on your face. His arm was around you, holding your side as you headed to the pool.

It wasn’t too busy, just a few kids with their parents, and a bartender at the outdoor bar. You told him you wanted a drink, so that’s where you headed first.

“Hey, can I get two Mojitos?” Logan asked, handing him the room key “And can you just charge it to our room?”

“Of course,” He started working on the drinks immediately, while you two sat and people-watched. He finished the drinks, and gave you them and the room key back.

You said thank you as you walked off, hoping Logan would just follow. There was a small hot tub that was empty, so that’s where you went. You stepped in carefully, afraid of slipping, and sat down in the warm water.

“Really?” Logan whispered, a fake smile still adorned on his face.

“This is what couples do, Logan. And we’re a couple for this weekend. So sit down and act like you love me, sweetie.” Your grin was starting to hurt your cheeks.

He sat down across from you, and you mentally rolled your eyes. You got up, and repositioned yourself, sitting in his lap, “What part of ‘act like you love me’ are you not getting?”

He was frozen for a moment, caught off guard but quickly acted like he was happy to have you there, to not draw suspicion. You both took sips of your drink, as you continued to nonchalantly looked around.

You two stayed at the pool for awhile, taking mental notes of the guests and employees you saw. Honestly, this hotel didn’t seem too strange. But Xavier said it was a front so you guessed that’s why it seemed so normal, for their cover.

Once your drinks were empty, and the sun had started to go down, you both decided to head back up to the room. He got out drying himself off before wrapping you up in your towel. He picked you up and carried you bridal-style to the penthouse.

“Logan!”

“What? Just acting like I love you.” He smirked.

Once inside the room, he set you down. “I’m gonna go shower.” You stated, not really knowing what to do.

He just nodded, walking off to the kitchenette. You grabbed your bag and headed to the bathroom.

***

You mentally cursed yourself as you scrambled through your bag, searching for a pair of pajama shorts you thought you packed, but they were nowhere to be found.

“This cannot be real.” You whispered. The only other clothes you brought were jean shorts, and you sure as hell weren’t going to sleep in those.

You pulled out your oversized sleepshirt, putting it on. The hem landed right above the middle of your thigh. It was a little shorter than the length of a nightgown, so you just hoped he wouldn’t notice. You slipped on a pair of panties, snatched up your things, and exited the bathroom.

You immediately bumped into Logan, who was standing right outside the door.

“What the fuck?” You raised your voice, annoyed. “Why are you right outside the door?”

“I was about to knock. You’ve been in there for over an hour.”

“It’s all yours!” You sassed.

You walked over to the small kitchen, and see he had already opened up the champagne. You had a glass as you sat on a barstool, writing down some notes about the people you’d observed earlier. Pouring yourself another glass, you headed over to the bed.

Just as you made yourself comfortable, Logan came out of the washroom, in just a towel. You stared at his wet torso for a moment, hypnotized.

“My eyes are up here.” He laughed.

You looked up, embarrassed.

“Forgot my clothes. Hey, wait, why are you in the bed?”

“…Because I’m the girl?”

“You're also the short one. I can’t fit on that couch.”

“Oh, c’mon. It’s a big bed. We can both fit just fine. Unless you’re nervous. Never slept with a girl before, Lo?”

He sighed, clearly not wanting to argue, before taking his clothes and escaping back to the bathroom. You silently celebrated your victory.

He came out a few moments later, turning off the lights, sliding under the blankets and getting comfortable. You both ended up facing the same direction. If he was any closer, he’d be the big spoon, but there was a few inches separating you.

You adjusted your body, and accidentally felt your ass rub against him. You went rigid from humiliation, before scooting away slightly, ignoring it since he didn’t say anything.

You tried to fall asleep, but it was difficult, for many reasons. One, you’re not used to having someone else in your bed. Two, he was breathing heavily. Three, you couldn’t stop thinking about how sexy he was.

Of course, you knew Logan was attractive, you’d thought that since the moment you first saw him. But today, probably because of the faux-gagement, the touching, the flirting, you saw him differently. He was still getting on your nerves, but the flames between you two… His body… It was unlike before.

You exhaled a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You twiddled your feet, moving around your body nervously, before unintentionally grazing your ass against his crotch again.

“Y’know, if you keep rubbing your ass against my dick, I’m gonna do something about it.” His words sounded gruff in your ear, but they gave you butterflies.

“Maybe that’s what I want.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Taglist:

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#wolverine x reader #xmen #xmen wolverine #x men #wolverine smut #wolverine fanfic #wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #logan fluff #logan fanfic #logan fanfiction #logan smut #logan howlett #logan howlett fluff #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #logan howlett fanfiction

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sparklingchim · 8 days

Text

game on | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 2.2k

genre: footballer!jungkook, fake dating, f2l

rating: pg

warnings: koo gets scolded for sleeping around 🥺, playboy jk <3, hints of a threesome 🫢, oc fights w a laundry machine

summary: jungkook is in desperate need to polish up his playboy image, and naturally, he turns to you for help.

a/n: hii my pretty besties!!!! it's my bday😋 so i wanted to share this silly piece i've been having so much fun writing!!! love uuu n treat urself to smth nice for me today <3 mwah😙

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Jeon Jungkook is a charming man – and he is well aware of the fact. He plays that card effortlessly.

Most of the time, it works in his favour.

But sometimes, it backfires spectacularly and gets him into trouble.

Which is why he stands in front of his fuming manage, who is radiating enough anger to fill the entire office.

The sight isn’t foreign to Jungkook. He wouldn’t say he is used to it, but he has found himself often enough in this situation to recognise the signs of deep trouble.

Not only is Jungkook’s charm complicating things, but the fact that he is famous too.

Sometimes, he uses that as an advantage. Not in an obvious way — never by flaunting his own achievements or demanding special treatment.

That’s not his style.

His name alone carries weight, and he knows how to let it work for him, quietly bending the world to his will... until the world pushes back.

And right now, it’s pushing back hard.

One thing Jeon Jungkook does enjoy about being a pro footballer, though, is the way women obsess over him.

He knows they love him – sees it in the comments they leave on his ig posts, sees it in the DMs flooding his inbox daily, and experiences it firsthand at public events, where hordes of fans scream his name. Jungkook thrives on that attention.

However, something he doesn’t love, and what he was never prepared for, is the media. The way they scrutinise his every move, how his face ends up on every headline anytime he does something remotely noteworthy.

And now, thanks to his latest shenanigan getting caught by the press, here he is. Standing in front of his manager, Taesung, and his PR agent, Jiwoo, eyes downcast, bracing himself for the scolding that’s already begun.

“You’ve gone too far this time, Jungkook.”

His manager speaks in a flat, monotonous voice, void of even the slightest hint of disappointment, as if he’d long since given up expecting anything different.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to clean up the mess you leave behind?”

A sense of guilt creeping up on Jungkook, even though he knows if he were just a regular guy, none of this would matter at all. And he finds it a bit unfair.

But to survive in this business, you can’t complain about unfairness.

“Have you completely lost your mind?” Taesung barks.

Jungkook remains silent. He forces himself to.

“If there was more involved than just alcohol-”

“No! Nothing like that,” he denies, his response firm and immediate. “It was just alcohol – and, well, just good vibes because we won the last match, and with the World Cup being next, everyone was just really excited.”

If he had known what kind of trouble a simple, innocent celebration of his team’s win at a club would bring, he would’ve gone straight home yesterday. He would’ve skipped the rounds of drinks, the flashing lights, the loud music, and definitely the attention. But hindsight was useless now.

“Good,” his manager says. “I’m glad you were happy.” Mock sympathy drips from his voice. “Perhaps the last time you are going to be happy this year.”

Jungkook nods, accepting the gravity of the situation. No more clubs, no more parties, no more girls.

At least, not for a while. His reputation had taken a few hits recently, and this latest mess wasn’t helping. He could almost hear the whispers: reckless, irresponsible, unprofessional. The kind of things that could ruin him if he didn’t get a handle on it.

He clenched his jaw. No more distractions. From now on, it was all about the game. He needed to remind everyone why he was Jeon Jungkook — the best on the field, not just the headlines.

“You’re no longer in for the World Cup. You’re out.”

His head snaps up at that. Did he hear that right?

“What?! What do you mean?”

“Myungbo doesn’t want you on the team anymore.” Taesung’s words sound heavy and final.

Jungkook’s heart pounds in his ears.

His world tilts. The room seems to spin, the edges of his vision darkening. This wasn’t just a setback — it was a disaster. The World Cup was everything to him, and now it felt like it was slipping through his fingers. The crushing weight of the news settles on his chest, making it hard to breathe. One silly night is all that happened.

He can’t believe that a single photo of him leaving the club with two girls clinging to each arm has cost him his spot on the national football team. He went home with two girls – so what?

But he doesn’t voice his frustration. He knows better than to add fuel to the fire. Speaking his mind now would only escalate the situation and make things worse. Jungkook knows from experience.

He swallows hard, forcing himself to stay calm. His pulse is still racing, but he takes a deep breath, focusing on controlling his emotions. He has to keep a level head if he’s going to find a way to fix this.

“There has to be a way to fix this.” His eyes move to Jiwoo, his PR agent. “Right?”

His manager fixes him with a stern glare. “Jungkook, remember the promise you gave everyone a few months ago?” Taesung reminds him.

Jungkook cringes. When he made a promise to avoid actions that might damage his reputation, he didn’t think it’d be that serious. He cut back on going out, made the effort to play the role of the “good boy” but really – come on. He can’t maintain that facade for an eternity. Especially after a triumphant victory like yesterday’s.

Taking away his spot on the national football team? He didn’t think that was possible.

“How many more times do we have to fix your problems, because you don’t care enough? How many times do we have to repeat this scenario?”

“I promise I’ll better myself,” he pleads desperately, looking back and forth between his manager and his PR agent. Someone has to believe him, help him.

“Do you genuinely believe this country wants to be represented by a 20-year-old boy, who can’t keep his personal life under control?” Taesung asks, eyebrows deeply pinched together. “This isn’t just about you, Jungkook. It’s about the team, the fans, and the nation. They need a role model, not a scandal waiting to happen.”

“I know. I know.” Jungkook scrambles for something convincing to say, desperate to sway their decision. This can’t be it. He won’t let his career take a hit because of something like this. “But – but this isn’t too bad. This is fixable. I can fix this.” His voice quivers with a desperation he barely recognises as his own. “Jiwoo.” Jungkook turns to her with pleading eyes. “You always know what to do. Please, help me”

“I did propose an idea but-”

“We’re not doing that,” Taesung cuts in. “It’s off the table.”

“What is it?” Jungkook’s eyes bounce back and forth between them. “I’ll do anything. This is – this is everything to me. You have to give me a chance.”

Taesung scoffs. “A chance? As far as I know, you have been given countless chances.”

Sweat coats the back of Jungkook’s neck.

Taesung understands just how much Jungkook has fought to secure his place on the national team. He’s well aware that it’s one of Jungkook’s greatest dreams, a pinnacle of his career that he’s poured countless hours of hard work and sacrifice into. That’s why, each morning, when he wakes up to the latest news of Jungkook’s escapades, he feels a deep sense of disappointment, texting Jungkook with a dejected shake of his head to visit his office first thing in the morning.

When it’s all he wants, like Jungkook claims, why doesn’t he act like it?

“If the head coach won’t give me a chance now, he’ll never do. This is my last opportunity to change his mind, make him rethink. I need to at least try.”

Jiwoo looks at the manager, waiting for his approval. He nods.

“Very simply put: you need a girlfriend,” she says.

For a second, Jungkook is at loss for words.

“A girlfriend? How’s that going to help?” Jungkook tilts his head in confusion. This is not how he thought Jiwoo was going to save him.

“You need a girlfriend to help polish up your image as a player. It’ll make you appear more like a gentleman, softer and nicer. We need to completely shift public perception and counter the negative image they’ve formed about you. It’s all about changing the narrative,” she explains.

“And that is not something we can easily achieve,” Taesung interjects. “Rebranding your entire persona is not feasible at this stage. You’ve been projecting what kind of boy you are to the media for the past two years. It’s going to be incredibly difficult to make a sudden shift look genuine.”

“No! We — I can make it seem real. This is my only chance,” Jungkook insists, his voice gaining a hint of determination. For a moment, breathing feels a bit easier again. “The World Cup is just a month away. That’s enough time to shift public opinion and prove I’m worthy of representing the country on the team.” There’s a hopeful lilt in his voice as he speaks, clinging to the belief that he might not have to bid farewell to his biggest dream after all.

But his manager doesn’t look as hopeful as Jungkook feels.

“How are we going to find a girl who will agree to this? Someone who isn’t an obsessive fan, understands this is purely professional, and can keep quiet? You won’t be able to pull this off.”

“I was actually thinking-” Jiwoo starts, but she’s cut off.

Jungkook hesitates, glancing between them before speaking. “Actually... I think I already have someone in mind.” His voice is more measured now. “That’s not the issue.” Jungkook doesn’t need to think twice.

Taesung sighs while Jiwoo looks at Jungkook apologetically.

“You can’t rebrand your entire persona from a playboy to a lover boy within a month, Jungkook. This is over.” His manager shakes his head, a sense of finality glimmering in his eyes.

One thing that Jungkook forgot to mention is that he is an extremely competitive man, too.

“This is ridiculous.”

You kick the laundry machine in frustration, but all you end up doing is yelping and clutching your aching foot.

“That’s the third time this month,” you mutter under your breath. “What did I even spend all that money on if it’s just going to break down whenever it feels like it?”

You shoot a death glare at the machine, teetering on the edge of losing your mind.

“Guess I’ll have to use the public laundromat again,” you sigh, grabbing the overflowing laundry basket filled with your and your roommate's clothes, and heading out of the bathroom with a huff.

On your way to the front door, the doorbell rings.

Please, you think. You were hoping for some quiet, uninterrupted time to deep-clean your dorm on this peaceful Sunday with no one around.

But when you peek through the peephole and see Jungkook standing there, your frustration melts away. You swing the door open, the laundry basket tumbling to the floor beside you in your haste.

“Jungkook!” you exclaim. “You’re timing is perfect! Can you please fix my laundry machine again? It’s been acting up, and I’m getting frustrated.” You groan annoyed.

Jungkook doesn’t share the same excitement upon seeing you.

You grow smaller and take an indecisive step back.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, noticing the tension in his features. “Did you lose the match yesterday? I couldn’t keep up because I had too much cramming to do last night.”

While studying medicine had always been your dream, the reality is less exciting. Right now, it means sleepless nights and relentless pressure. You know that pursuing this path will offer you many privileges later in life, but you have to suffer first.

“I need your help.”

His dark eyes, usually bright and full of energy, seem clouded with worry, and his hair falls messily over his forehead, like he’s run his hands through it a hundred times in frustration.

“Are you okay?” You study him closely, scanning his face for any signs of injury. Physically, he seems fine — still tall, muscular, and as fit as ever. But something is clearly off.

“You need to do something for me.”

“I can help,” you reply, your voice soft with concern. ‘But what is it…?”

“Can you be my girlfriend?”

You blink, repeatedly.

“Huh?”

You start giggling when he doesn’t add more. You expect him to clarify or laugh along, but Jungkook stays serious, stepping closer and gently taking your hands in his. You look down at them, then back up at his face, utterly bewildered.

“You’re silly, Jungkook. If someone on the team made you do this, tell them you did the punishment and quit acting so weird.”

It’s too early in the morning for Jungkook’s nonsense.

“No, ___, you don’t understand.” He squeezes your hands when he feels you trying to pull them back. “I actually need you to do it.”

“Do what?”

“Fake date me.”

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