#I can tell how much she hates the alcohol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eggyrocks · 2 days

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rot: h. iwaizumi

chapter four -> an incident

word count: 4k

(masterlist ; written content ; taglist)

now playing: B.n.F. by ragana

warnings! this chapter contains mentions of: death of a family member, drug use/overdoses, parental abuse, slight/implied violence, misogynistic language, iwaizumi being a bit possessive if you squint, the hurt/comfort really comes into play this chapter

She’s become an on-call nurse.

It’s never anything worse than the stabbing (which she’s grateful for, because she’s started having reoccurring nightmares where every towel she owns becomes oversaturated with blood, but the flow never slows).

If there’s any sort of silver lining, it’s that her skills have improved. No longer are the wounds she stitches up angry, crooked red lines of over-agitation slathered in too much Neosporin to compensate for it. Her precision and steadiness have both improved; she figures she’s just gotten used to threading through skin.

She would go to nursing school, if she had any semblance of drive or determination. But she doesn’t, so she doesn’t. She just sits on her couch and waits for the call to come so she can go complete some of her back-alley medical procedures.

Iwaizumi’s her favorite patient. Kunimi complains the least and Kyotani has the best pain tolerance. But Iwaizumi’s still her favorite.

He’s sitting on one of the kitchen stools in his apartment, one of his hands lazily grazing against the back of her thigh as she stands in between his legs, focused intensely on the gash that decorates his cheek. He’s had plenty of these, she can see the faint markings of them underneath her fingers as she works. Most of them were never deep enough to become anything other than a faint mark you can only see if you squint. Some of them are pale and in stark contrast to his tanned skin.

You see him and you see them.

There’s no sound but the overworked rotating fan that spits and gurgles and begs to be put out of its misery. Iwaizumi watches her as she works to close his wound. “You know you always do that when you concentrate,” he says, tired voice rough and low. He draws circles just above the back of her knee with his thumb.

“Do what?” she asks, reaching for a pair of old kitchen scissors on the counter. She resolves to disinfect them later. But it’s not like Iwaizumi has actually ever cooked anything in his life. At least nothing edible. She snips the end of the suture.

“You stick out the end of your tongue,” he tells her, grinning. And she abandons her task of tearing into her alcohol wipes in favor of narrowing her eyes at him. “Like this,” he says, and pokes the very tip of his tongue out between his two lips, brow furrowed in a bit of mock concentration. “It’s cute.”

He winces slightly as she cleans off his wound with the alcohol wipe. He tries to play it off like he doesn’t, but she notices, and smiles, just a bit. “You think everything I do is cute,” she tells him, as if he needs reminding.

And it’s true. Iwaizumi’s liberal with the word. Everything about her gets the label. When she wakes up in the morning and her hair is a mess and there’s still sleep in her eyes. When he drives her home from work and she tugs at the collar of her uniform, complaining loudly about how much she hates it. The way she eats. How she texts. Everything.

“Cause you’re cute,” he asserts. And she deposits the now rusty alcohol wipe onto the counter with the remainder of the discarded medical equipment she’s used on him.

He doesn’t say anything else as she places a bandage over the stitched-up slice on his cheek and she doesn’t go anywhere when it’s done. Even though there’s nothing left for her to do. Even those there’s no reason for her to be standing in between his legs still, she doesn’t want to leave.

Iwaizumi doesn’t ask her to, so she doesn’t. She stays, and his hand slowly creeps up the back of her thigh. “Thanks,” he tells her, grinning. “I’ll pay you.”

“Fuck off,” she rolls her eyes. “You and me both know you don’t have money to pay me with.”

His hand squeezes slightly. “I’ll get some.”

“Don’t do anything that’ll get you hurt again,” she chastises lightly, and raises a hand to cup his cheek, and she brushes her thumb just under the bandage, careful to dodge any bruises that have blossomed. “Swear to fucking god, you’re gonna give me a heart attack.”

“Aww,” he coos, and uses the grip he has on her thigh to pull her forward. She stumbles, just a bit, and a hand automatically goes to his shoulder to steady herself. “You’re worried about me.”

There’s no part of her that is inclined to take her hand off of him. She slips it behind his neck and lifts her other hand to meet it, fingers twining together. “Course I’m worried about you,” she tells him, unashamed. “You dickhead. How could I not be?”

Iwaizumi studies her. His eyes are bright and green and as they scan over the details of her face they’re all she can focus on. He has pretty eyes. They might be one of the prettiest things about him. Iwaizumi blinks at her, and then swallows. “Can I tell you something?”

She nods, still thinking of his eyes. “Yeah.”

“I think I might be in love with you.”

“I know.”

He uses his free hand grip the tip of her chin, softly, but in a way that gives him control. She can’t look away from his eyes, and she doesn’t have to say it.

When Iwaizumi kisses her, it doesn’t feel like it’s the first time. It feels familiar, like she’s returning to something she didn’t know she had. It’s chaste for only a second. Like Iwaizumi got a taste of her and then could not hold back for even a second longer. The hand on her chin tangles in the roots of her hair, the one on her thigh shoots up to her back, inching up under her shirt.

Iwaizumi’s something special to her, she thinks, as he nibbles on her bottom lip. Something she doesn’t quiet understand. All of her life has been rot and decay. It has been death and violence and blood and those are all things that are tacked right alongside Iwaizumi’s name. They come with him just as they come with her.

But he doesn’t make her feel like the wooden boards that hold her home up are soft and wet and termite ridden. He doesn’t make her feel like the flesh of every fruit she touches is squishy and leaking and smelling of something foul. For the first time in her life, she feels like she’s tasting something fresh.

He lifts her, and carries her to the bedroom. The persistent summer heat melts them both, sweat sticking to their skin. The fan still sputters. A small cut on Iwaizumi’s lip makes him taste of rust and iron. The integrity of the walls around them are soiled, and one day, maybe someday soon, they will fall in on themselves.

But still, in his sheets, she feels fresh.

★⋆. ࿐࿔

They locked the doors of the sports shop for their fifteen-minute break. She leans against the wall on the back of the building and smokes a cigarette. Kiyoko sits on a pile of palettes and watches.

“Did he call you his girlfriend?” Kiyoko asks, twisting and untwisting the cap on her water, just for something to do with her hands. “Or did you just hook up?”

“I dunno,” she answers with a mouthful of smoke. The sun beams down on her, and for the first time in a while, she actually enjoys it. It’s cooled down today, with a healthy amount of fluffy white clouds in that picturesque blue sky. “It’s not like he asked or anything, but it felt like more than a hook up. He said he thinks he’s in love with me.”

“He thinks?” Kiyoko repeats back to her, sounding like she’s trying not to sound incredulous, and doing a very bad job.

She thinks that maybe she’s had a bit of a bad influence over Kiyoko, who was, when she first met her, a perfectly nice girl with a good work ethic and no apparent flaws. And just after a few weeks, she’s become the type of person to indulge in a bit of healthy shit-talking and let breaks run just a few minutes extra.

It’s almost scary to imagine what a few more weeks with her would do. She’s just a corrupting force, not much she can do about it.

Her foot taps. “I’ve known,” she admits. “He’s not subtle about it.”

Kiyoko tilts her head. “Do you love him?”

“Of course I do,” she answers at once, and puts her cigarette out on the wall behind her. “But I’m not very good at loving people.”

Their fifteen-minute break ends at twenty-two minutes. Kiyoko expresses guilt over this and compensates by putting a little extra effort into cleaning and restocking and organizing while she sits behind the counter and doodles in her stolen fuzzy pink journal.

She knows that maybe a part of her should feel bad for sitting back while Kiyoko does all of the work, because she knows it’s a piece of shit move. But Kiyoko tells her repeatedly that honestly, she doesn’t mind doing the work, and as long as she takes care of the customers, it’s fine.

So she tells herself that it’s fine, and that really, she’s doing what Kiyoko wants, anyways. And plus it’s not like she’s any good at the majority of her job. The page of her journal meant for children is covered in dozens of Marvin the Martian’s. It’s the only thing she knows how to draw. She starts adding another one, and thinks about Iwaizumi.

He was in her apartment early this morning, before she woke up. He left a note that briefly explained that he’s out on business for the day (like she doesn’t know what that mean, but she appreciates the ambiguity), but he would be back in time to pick her up from work. He also left a wad of cash of dubious origin; the note explaining that it’s for the stitches, not the sex (three underlines on the ‘not,’ he wanted that very clear). His daily gift of coffee was left beside the money, the condensation soaking into the paper bills.

And it’s sort of pathetic on her part, because the entire day before, he was with her, and most of the night, he was with her. Really, it’s only been a few hours, so there’s really no excuse for her to miss him this much. It’s all she can think about. She adds little hearts to the eyes of Marvin.

Her fingers tug under the collar of her work uniform. If it’s not good for anything else, it’s good for covering the dark purple marks left by Iwaizumi, at least.

Thinking of him passes the time. It’s so dead that even Kiyoko has given up on her busying tasks in favor of slumping behind the counter. She’s quick to flip to a new page, and she does a sloppy sketch of Kiyoko that does little to capture her real life beauty. The pen lines overlap and her eyes are uneven. Kiyoko declares that it’s the best drawing she’s ever seen.

She’s grateful for Kiyoko. It’s nice to have a friend. Someone that’s not the person you’re sleeping with or his friends. Kiyoko leans her head against her shoulder, and says, “I’m glad we hired you.”

And it’s strange, but for the first time, she sort of feels like she has a reason to try.

★⋆. ࿐࿔

It’s too hot to lie on the couch or the bed. She and Iwaizumi lie side by side on his hardwood floor. She’s lifting up one of his hands, cradling it carefully, studying the lines of it. “Can I ask you something?” she asks, lips and voice dry.

“Of course.”

“Are we like, in a relationship?” she asks, and it earns a hearty chuckle from Iwaizumi. She’s quick to lightly pinch in the inside of his hand. “Don’t laugh. I just wanna know what your endgame with me is.”

Since the initial incident, there have been about six more incidents, all involving proclamations of love and no further discussion of status. Not that she particularly cares what the response is. There are two facts that she knows are true: Iwaizumi is in love with her, and he’s not fucking anyone else. So yes or no, it doesn’t make too much of a difference, as long as those two facts don’t change.

“I’m gonna marry you,” is Iwaizumi’s proud and confident answer.

She turns her head towards him so he can see the eyebrow she raises. “You are?”

“Yeah,” he breathes out.

“You seem really certain.”

“I am.”

She hums, and then turns her head to look back up at the ceiling. There are stains she doesn’t recognize. ”You might change your mind. I’m a really fucked up person.”

“That’s okay. I am too.”

“My dad’s a cop,” she says, and doesn’t know why.

Iwaizumi hesitates, and when he does respond, it’s a soft, unsure, “Oh,” and it gives off the impression that she fucked up, just now.

“We don’t talk,” she rushes to explain, desperate for him not to hold it against her. It’d be a fucked-up thing to hold against her, she thinks. There’s no one who hates her father and the things he does more than her. There’s no one impacted by it more than her. “Well, he tries to, but I ignore him. He’s a piece of shit.”

“Did he like, send you here to entrap me, or something?” Iwaizumi asks. She can’t tell if he’s serious or not.

“No,” she scoffs. “If he had known I was planning on leaving he would’ve locked me in a shed somewhere.”

“Then he can get fucked,” Iwaizumi says with a shrug. “I don’t care if he’s a cop or not.”

She nods, the declaration lifting at least some of the weight off of her shoulders. She wiggles slightly against the floor, like she’s trying to settle against it, make herself more comfortable.

Iwaizumi’s head turns towards her. “Is your brother still with him?”

“My brother’s dead,” is her swift and immediate response, said so succinctly it makes Iwaizumi flinch. “It’s because of my dad.”

“What happened?”

“Overdosed,” she answers, tongue feeling so dry she’s afraid it might crumble away. It’s hard to swallow. “He had problems. My dad caused them, and then made them worse.”

Iwaizumi sits up and looks down at her. She doesn’t move to follow. She lies there on the floor and stares back up at him, expectantly. “Then I’m glad you’re here with me, and not him. You can always be here with me.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

It feels strangely like a vow.

★⋆. ࿐࿔

Iwaizumi’s gone. She’s not working and Iwaizumi’s gone. The store’s closed and she has nothing to do but rot away on her bed, eating freezer-burnt popsicles and staring at her phone while her television plays shitty reruns in the background.

She’s contemplating texting Kiyoko. She’s never texted her outside of work, and isn’t one-hundred percent sure if she should. But she cares more about Kiyoko than her actual job, and thinks it might be worth the risk. Maybe they could go shopping or get lunch or do something that friends actually do.

She’s holding the phone and the popsicle in both hands above her head, staring at it as if she’s waiting for some kind of sign to send the text or not. The popsicle is starting to melt in her hand. It drips down her wrist, and falls straight down her arm. She doesn’t care, she has to shower anyways.

And it’s just when she’s about to send the text that her phone rings. Unknown number. Her eyes narrow. Usually the only calls she gets are from her dad (declined) or Iwaizumi (answered). An unknown number is uncharted territory.

She then has a vision of Iwaizumi stabbed and bleeding out, and an unknown number trying to reach her over it.

She answers at once with an aggressive, “Who’s this?”

The answer is not of the urgent nature you’d expect from a stabbing. It’s a calm and chilling, “You know you’re a really hard person to get in touch with.”

“Yeah,” she agrees slowly. “Who is this?”

“You might remember me from the CD shop. You sold me PCD. I’m Kageyama Tobio.”

Her brow furrows. “I didn’t really do much selling, but sure. Why are you calling me and how’d you get my number?”

“I’m an officer with-“

“Officer?” she cuts him off.

“Yeah.”

“Fuck off.”

She hangs up, and goes to block the number. Her fingers hover over the keys of her phone, hesitating. She dials a number she knows by heart, and asks Iwaizumi how to block numbers.

★⋆. ࿐࿔

She overhears on accident. The walls are thin and they think she’s asleep in Iwaizumi’s bed. And she was, until about twenty-seconds ago when their heated conversation woke her up. She’d get up to tell them off about it if she wasn’t so fascinated by their conversation.

“I’m gonna kill him.”

“You can’t kill him. Do not kill him. Just think with your head for a second.”

“It’s not good if he’s calling her. He visited her at old job. He’s gotta go, I don’t care. We should’ve killed him when he fucking quit to be a cop. Or when he narced and got Kindaichi arrested.”

“Just let me talk to him, alright?”

“Yeah, that’ll go well.”

“At least give me a chance.”

“Fine. You get a chance. But if he fucks with her, he’s dead. I don’t care what you say.”

She blinks, and swallows, rolling over in his bed. She tries to conjure up some sort of feeling about the matter but comes up short. She closes her eyes, and reasons that this is what she signed up for.

★⋆. ࿐࿔

Her guard’s gone down since Iwaizumi’s become a part of her life. She’s not careful enough anymore. When there’s a knock on the door, she throws open her locks without thinking about it, and flings the door wide open, just to see her father on the other side.

It only takes a second to register that it’s him, and she’s slamming the door shut once more. He gets to it before it can close all the way, and leans in heavy. Her panic is immediate, and she leans her whole body up against that door trying to get it closed again.

The door rattles, and it rattles her with it. She presses her should hard into it, and reaches for the chain lock, struggling to hook it with the way her father slams into the wooden door. She doesn’t realize that she’s started sobbing until the lock’s secure in place.

Still, he rages against it. “I taught you better than that,” he screams from the other side. The sound of his fists is familiar; it reminds her of home. “You’re asking for it, opening up your door like that, for anyone to break in!”

Her breathing is unsteady and her hands are shaking. She slides down to sit on the floor, back pressed against the door, and she fishes for the phone out of her pocket.

“Do you know how long it took me to find you?” her father yells, and the dogs in the apartment below her bark so loud she can almost hear it over the sound of his voice. “Do you know how hard I had to work to track you down? And you just slam the door in my face?”

She messes up Iwaizumi’s number the first time she tries to dial it. Then again a second time. “Fuck!” she whispers out in frustration as her trembling thumbs mess it up a third time. She gets it right on the fourth.

“You’re an ungrateful little bitch, you know that right?” he yells, his foot now jamming into the door. She can feel it against her back. It almost throws her. “You left your family! Your brother died and you left!”

She’s afraid the door’s going to break. The call goes to voicemail. She calls back immediately.

“I don’t care what it takes! I don’t care if I have to beat it into you! You’re coming home with me and I am going to teach you to respect your father.”

There’s a click on the other line, and then she hears his voice. “Hey, love, now’s not a good time-“

“You have to get rid of him,” she hiccups out, and there is another fierce slam of fists against the door. “He’s here. He showed up and he’s gonna hurt me and I-“

“Who are you talking to in there? Huh? Answer me, bitch!”

Something cool runs through her spine. The door might break. She thinks she might die.

“Is that your dad?”

She nods, and then remembers he can’t see her. “Yes.”

“I’ll be there in five.”

Another click, and Iwaizumi’s gone. Her breathing is out of control. Five minutes. She can last another five minutes. She squeezes her eyes shut. He’s still yelling, her father. Yelling the way he always has. Ferociously, with a kind of hated that’s so potent and acidic she’s almost in awe of it.

But she’s known him for long enough to know how to block it out, well enough. She raises her shaking hands to cover her ears, and she curls into herself, wanting to disappear, and willing these five minutes to pass as quickly as possible.

She forces the world around her to go black.

The knocking on her door pulls her from it. It’s different. Gentler this time. Softer. The phone she abandoned buzzes against the hardwood floor beside her. Once it stops, it starts again. Slowly, she realizes herself, takes stock of her body. She looks at her phone. It’s been seven minutes.

The knocking on the other side of the door continues. He calls her name. “It’s me. Just me, he’s gone. Please let me know you’re in there.” The phone stops ringing. “Fuck,” he exclaims, quieter, harder to hear. The phone starts ringing again.

She stands. Her legs are shaking, and it takes her a minute to get steady on her feet. But once she gets there, she undoes the chain lock, and opens the door.

Iwaizumi looks worse for wear; his eyes are bloodshot and the widen at the sight of her. “Sorry,” she says. Her voice is hoarse. “I think I blacked out.”

He doesn’t waste time. Iwaizumi launches forward, and wraps his arms around her middle, holding her so tightly her feet are off the ground. “I was so worried,” he admits against her hair. “He was gone when I got here,” Iwaizumi tells her. “I have people working on it.”

She returns the embrace, arms going around his shoulders and once more, her eyes start to prick with tears. She holds her breath for ten seconds before she speaks. “Don’t kill him, please,” she says, words muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

Iwaizumi’s hold on her waist gets tighter. “You know I’d do anything to protect you, right? Anything to make sure you’re safe?”

It’s not the type of reassurance she’s looking for. Her heart is starting to beat faster once more. She buries her face in the crook of his shoulder. “I know he’s a piece of shit, but he’s stilly my dad,” she says, trying not to cry. “Do whatever you want, just don’t kill him.”

Iwaizumi stays still and silent, doing nothing but continuing to hold her. She thinks he’s not breathing. She can’t feel it, any intake of exhale of breath. Just his furious, persistent heartbeat. She bites down on her bottom lip. “Please,” she tacks on, his extended silence causing a feral sort of desperation to grow in her chest.

That seems to do it for him. His the tension in his shoulders lessens, and he relents. “Okay,” Iwaizumi agrees. “Alright. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.”

It’s open-ended. It’s unclear. But it’s not her father dying at his hands. So she’ll take it. She lets herself sink into his hold, and she takes it.

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callisto-a-fontaine · 2 days

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Yes Or No | jeon jungkook (+18)

Genre: One-Shot, Smut, Non-Idol!AU, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers

Word count: 8.6k

Summary: You don’t even hang out with Jungkook that often, he’s just one of many acquaintances of your best friend. Yet your heart flatters whenever you see him. Not that it matters, because he doesn’t even acknowledge your existence… Or does he?

Warning/Themes: jk is a fuck boy and y/n is a hopeless romantic 🥲; miss girl doesn’t like parties but goes to them anyway 💀; they’re not that close but very attracted to each other; both are pathetic in their own ways (y/n low-key delusional and jk can’t communicate like a normal human being); sudden trauma dumping; fingering; ripping up clothes; oral sex (f receiving); spanking; protected sex; fucking on the table (missionary and doggy style); angry sex for him, basically fucking y/n dumb; sad ending; open ending (jk is just a bit confused, believe in him).

Author’s note: I’m planning to do other 6 one-shots for each BTS member and then start a fanfiction series (always with BTS of course 🤭). Tell me what you think 🫶🏽

You don’t like going to parties, but you can’t really do much when your best friend Sera looks at you with puppy eyes, begging you to come with her like it’s a life or death situation.

You wish you could be more assertive in these scenarios, but you prefer not to make a scene and just go on with whatever your bestie has in mind, as long as it doesn’t harm you mentally or physically.

“It’s going to be the usual kind of party babe” she reassures you by putting on a friendly and comforting smile “Just lots of people you’ll have to avoid for the whole night, a lot of alcoholic drinks you’re going to drink with me and a comfortable bed just for you when you’re tired”

“Have you ever thought of not complicating your life with such unnecessarily exhausting activities?” you refrain yourself from rolling your eyes, but she can still hear your annoyance through your tone of voice.

“Not everyone’s introverted like you Y/N. Some people let off some steam by getting fucked up through the night. What’s wrong with that?”

“What’s wrong is that you always have to drag me into that kind of bullshit. You know I’d rather spend my night binge watching stuff or sleeping”

“I’m aware too babe, but you gotta let go sometimes… And who’s gonna be there for me when I need it the most, huh?” you sigh hearing her say these words.

Although it doesn’t look like it, you are a people’s pleaser at heart. But the hate you feel towards any type of social gathering is so strong that even if you not attending could displease someone, you wouldn’t really give a flying fuck about what they think.

However, it’s Sera we’re talking about: your childhood best friend who’s like a sister to you and has always been by your side, through your highs and lows; and also a social butterfly who loves to stay up late, drinking and talking to various people, especially strangers. So, for you, it almost feels like a responsibility being with her during these type of events.

“Well then…” you take a deep breath, accepting that you won’t be spending the night watching your favourite Netflix series like you planned to “… When is this party? And where”

“At 9, Ilsung’s place” Fuck. Il-Sung’s place.

Ilsung, Sera’s temporary hook-up turned crush: she met him five years ago through multiple acquaintances and then started fucking him as a sport whenever they saw each other at parties. At first, you thought she was wasting her time with that questionable individual, but, turns out, the guy is pretty sweet. He knows how to make her happy, both as a friend and as a fuck buddy.

Ilsung, the guy who introduced you and your main group of friends to the dark haired, “bobba-eyed” man you so crave to have, for some reason, whose name is Jeon “damn him” Jungkook. All it took was one look and you were already feeling butterflies inside your stomach and, for the first time, you haven’t regretted going at a party. Until he started to show his main interests…

… It all started at midnight: she was brunette, blue eyes and a dark purple tight dress paired with black high heels, pinned to the wall, making out passionately. It’s the girlfriend, you thought. He immediately proved you wrong when you caught him on the dance floor with Juni, grinding against her ass, holding her hips and pecking her neck. Then it was Hana, Chrissy, a slim girl with red hair, an American tourist who somehow ended up there, and a girl named Sol, who had the privilege to be brought upstairs by him, doing god-knows-what with that charming man.

You hate how observant you become when it comes to him and you hate that out of all people in your life you fell in love with a guy who definitely isn’t interested in commitment. He didn’t even make a move on you or spare you a single glance in your direction. Yet you come back to him, often checking his Instagram stories, seeing what he’s been up to or discovering stuff he likes and other hobbies he has. You wish it would’ve stayed like that forever. Watching him from afar, knowing that you might not have a chance with him whatsoever. But now you’ll have to face him again, face him charms, face his allure…

“Babe, you good?…” Sera’s voice takes you out of your trance, making you instantly nod as a response to her question.

“Yeah… I’m just worried for you, that’s all” you lie.

It’s almost pathetic how you dive into your closet to pick the most provocative tight dress you have and tell yourself that “he ain’t getting any” after. Which is true. He won’t get anything from you tonight exactly like other guys you’ll stumble upon at Ilsung’s. But you can’t negate the fact that you’re dressing up for him, planning to gain at least a drop of satisfaction from a few minutes of his attention.

The clothing you pick is a strapless tight dress and it’s pretty small at that. Very easy to hike up. Can leave men wondering what’s underneath it. Once you come out of your room all dolled up, Sera looks at you in disbelief, mouth agape and her body not moving even an inch.

“Babe… What the fuck is that?” she says frustratedly slow, almost sounding like something is wrong with you. Which is kind of the case.

“Uh… Don’t I look good?”

“Look good?... If I had a dick, I’d put you down on all fours and fuck you right there and then” she gets closer, putting her arms on your waist to admire you closely.

“Girl, you gay?” you try to laugh off the embarrassment away, but you end up sounding even more timid than before.

“I wish… I’d have more options” she scoffs “But still… Why the fuck are you dressed up like this?”

Good question. With a humiliating answer: it’s all Jungkook’s doing. Controlling your behaviour from afar, without even ordering you or touching you. It’s the most tragic oxymoron of your life. Yet it all makes sense. Why is he effecting you this way? You’re not even close to him.

“I really like this dress, so it’s a pity that I had ignored this dress for so long” the second lie of the day “I’m doing this for myself, trust me”

She makes the usual buzzing sound with her throat whenever she’s unconvinced. You don’t blame her because telling her that you’re doing this for yourself upfront is exactly what a person who’s doing something for someone else would say. You lightly gulp at the realisation.

“Babe, just tell me you found someone you’d like to fuck” she puts her hand on your shoulders, giving you a playful grin “You know I know everyone there, so no need to awkwardly search for the guy. I’ll call him and tell him your interested”

Fucking hell. The proposition is so inviting. Not that it matters ‘cause you already are acquainted with Jungkook, but having Sera by your side would make you feel more comfortable talking to him… But then you shake away the thought and, instead reply with a disgusted frown.

“Sera, you know hook-ups give me the ick” you sigh, which Sera doesn’t appreciate.

“And you know what gives me the ick the most?” she pauses for a few seconds, savouring her response before saying it, already aware she’s going to successfully shut you up with it “People who lie to themselves and aren’t even capable of hiding it”

Ouch. That stings.

They’re all looking at you. You’re a completely different person tonight. You’re not the grumpy, bad-dressed, perpetually-annoyed looking girl who used to follow Sera around like a guard dog anymore, you’re a femme fatale who’s looking for her next male victim to break into two.

You enjoy people’s reactions: some look appalled, others are simply weirded out by the way you. And then there are guys who are just eating you with their gaze, some of them even challenging each other through glares as they telepathically tell each other that “you are theirs tonight”.

However, in spite of how amusing the situation feels to you, you’re not completely satisfied because the target you dressed up for isn’t even here to admire you.

You looked around when you stepped in the house. Not there. You look around in the kitchen, pretending to look for water. Not there. You look around when you greet Sera’s friends as you all sit on the massive couch in the living room. Again, not there. You sigh. You try your hardest not to let it get you down, and you start to engage with the others in an attempt to distract yourself.

As the group you’re with keeps on with their chatter, you look around another time to see if he’s hidden in some corner or already all over a woman. But no matter how much you squint your eyes or turn your head, you don’t see him around.

You mentally slap yourself. Out of all the nights he could’ve missed, he decided to miss this one. When you groomed yourself without missing any detail: completely waxed, perfectly moisturised and the best make-up look you’ve ever done in your life. His loss, you think to yourself, but in reality you feel defeated.

“Sera, I’m exhausted… Let’s go upstairs now” you say as you get up.

“Babe nooo, don’t ruin my night like this…” she quietly protests as she holds onto your wrists.

“You know I’m not good with alcohol. I feel like I’m ‘bout to pass out” which is true actually. You’re pretty drunk.

“I can keep you company if you want” Mark says out of no where, looking directly into your eyes as he stands up.

He’s the guy who’s been staring at you the most, his bulge being very visible to everyone’s eyes.

“No, sit your ass down Mark” he obeys immediately, embarrassed by the laughs and giggles of his friends.

“Y/N, don’t worry” Sera puts a hand on your shoulder “I’ll stay here with Ilsung and you rest. ‘Key?”

“Absolutely not, I can’t leave you alone like this!”

“Hey, Y/N” Ilsung suddenly intervenes “Don’t worry about us. I’ve been drinking water since the party started. I’ll take care of her”

You look at the cup he’s holding suspiciously and snatch it from his hand. It’s a clear liquid. You gulp it down like a shot and… To your surprise, it’s actually water.

“When I saw you all dressed up I thought you were going to have some fun too. Just want to make sure both of you are safe tonight” he says as he takes back his cup “You go rest Y/N. The room is at the second floor, at the end of the hallway to your right”

You nod as you give him a warm smile. Although he’s a fuck boy like most guys he hangs out with, he’s actually a good guy who treats every girl, including one-night-stands and fuck buddies, like human beings. And you know he’s got a very soft spot for Sera, so you’re sure to leave her with him for the time being.

You make your way up towards the guest room you “reserved”, your steps slow and heavy not because of your heels, but because of the weight of your frustration. You look at the door and then a the doorknob with a “do not disturb” sign. You imagine Jungkook by your side, giving you a knowing smirk before opening the door for you. That’s how delusional you are.

As you step inside, you’re met with the red led lights decorating the corners of the room, the only source of light in there, although you can’t really see anything. As soon as you see the king sized bed you throw your purse on the night stand and lay your back on the bouncy mattress.

“Hey” upon hearing a stranger’s voice, you immediately sit up and look around. It’s dark and you’re short-sighted. Shit.

“Get the fuck out, I reserved this room” you shout annoyed, covering your slight anxiety.

“What? Ilsung’s house is now a hotel or something?” now he sounds sarcastic, almost mocking you.

“He put the sign for me, fuck off!” you scream in a whisper.

“Aren’t you scared?”

“These walls are paper thin” you threaten him “Do anything funny and I’ll scream”

He doesn’t reply. You just hear footsteps. You see a tall, dark figure coming out of the corner. You haven’t expected a scene out of a horror movie happening right in front of your eyes. You’re shitting yourself and about to yell for help… Until he’s close enough for you to see the outlines of his piercings and his tattooed hand.

He’s standing tall in front of you as you’re seated on the edge of the bed, your black doe eyes looking up to his. Of course, he has to be here, in a dark room lit by red lights. Of course, he has to be here, when you’re on a big bed and looking at him like you’re hungry for his touch. Which you are.

“I’d like to hear you scream, if you don’t mind” you gulp upon hearing Jungkook’s deep voice.

You don’t mind.

“Oh, hey…” you’ve never felt hornier in your life until now “What’re you doin’ here?”

“Don’t know… You?”

You cough, not knowing what to tell him. The silence becomes endless, both of you looking around saying nothing for a good couple of minutes. It’s just after he sighs and sits beside you that you look at him.

“You know, at this point girls are usually naked under me and moaning in my mouth as I kiss them” you look at him disgusted ‘cause you don’t really care what he does with other girls “Impressive you managed to stay so distant for this long”

“First time interacting with someone uninterested in you?” you mentally pat yourself in the back, thinking you actually owned him.

“Actually, I know a lot of girls who don’t care about my existence. Obviously I leave them alone because I don’t see the reason in following girls who don’t want me”

“Then why don’t you leave me alone?” he just laughs. Fuck. He laughs.

“You think I don’t know? You think I didn’t notice how much you were looking at me when we first met that night?” you look away, embarrassed that a man you barely know is reading you so accurately, but he gets closer, his face inches away from yours “You think I didn’t see you viewed every single story I posted on Instagram?”

You straighten yourself, ready to make up some excuses.

“By the way, I stare at everyone accidentally” you clear your throat, trying to sound believable “And I also happen to look at other people’s IG stories… Like a lot… 24/7”

He restrains his laughter to give you a playful smirk you can’t resist. His eyes look down to your chest and shoulders, noticing your heavy, inconsistent breaths.

“You look daring tonight” he pulls you gently against him, but you don’t stop him “When I saw you earlier, as you stepped inside the house, I wondered if you usually dress so beautifully”

No. You fucking hate tight dresses. You have them just in case you need them. Like tonight.

“… Then Ilsung showed me a few photos and it saddens me you were plain in all of them” he smirks, sensing your skin getting goosebumps “But then I asked myself: what’s so special about tonight? Mh”

You clench your thighs together, feeling yourself getting wetter by the second as he teases you with his hot breaths on your neck. You want him so bad. But not tonight. Not like this.

“Get. Out” you don’t even look at him as you order him without an ounce of hesitation in your voice.

“I know that look… You can have me now“

“I said what I said” you tell him coldly before.

A single peck behind your ear is what he gives you before he stands up to leave.

“Feel free to slide in my DMs” he says as he slightly opens the door “I’m always available”

The door closes and you sigh, finally resting your head on the pillow. Rewind all that has happened in the past few minutes.

But you don’t whine, you don’t cry yourself to sleep, regretting to have let him go so easily. You’ve never been happier than today.

All it took was one look. And now you know that you managed to intrigue him more than you anticipated. And now he wants to text with you.

It’s been a week since you last saw him in person and all you can do is giggle at the latest IG story he has posted a few minutes ago.

“With my girl” it says. The photo has him and some faceless girl sitting on his lap as he holds a glass of whiskey on his right hand and his left hand on her thigh.

With his girl, you scoff. He has posted similar photos with other girls for the past few days, sporting that smug smile of his like he’s winning or something. You have a feeling that you somehow got on his nerves.

You still remember the type of stories he used to post before the party at Ilsung’s: in Monday’s story, he posted a photo of a croissant with pistachios where it said “Going to devour this”; in Wednesday’s story, he posted a bunch of photos of him and his Doberman at some dog event; in Thursday’s story, he posted a clip of him singing, showing off his huge ass karaoke machine, and then a picture of a bucket of fried chicken with written “best fried chicken brand”; and both in Saturday’s and Sunday’s stories, he posted a few shirtless photos after working out to show his progress. Now, it’s all girls. Like he suddenly just fucks girls in his life.

Sera sneaks up on you and peaks at the photo you’ve been staring at for a good couple of minutes.

“Oh, so it was Jungkook” you jump at the sudden feeling of your best friend whispering in your ear “Yeah, the stuff he’s posting right now is a bit unusual. I mean, don’t get me wrong, that guy loves to fuck, but he’s not someone who takes pride in showing off girls”

“Well, seems like it now” you laugh “I might be the reason he’s acting up this way”

Sera looks at you confused before laughing at your face.

“Main character syndrome alert” she jokes as she gently hits your forehead with her index fingers.

“Girl, I’m serious” you slap away her fingers away from your face “We were together… You know, at the party”

Now Sera is intrigued, her unserious face changing into a surprised one in a blink of an eye. She sits beside you with her arms intertwined with your right arm. You don’t need to wait for her to ask you to start narrating your ten minutes interactions with him.

“No fucking way…” her jaw drops at the finale “You didn’t just reject the advances of the Jeon Fucking Jungkook”

“I guess I did…” you shrug, grinning at Sera “Not gonna lie though, I liked his attention”

“Get off your high horse babe” she takes your chin to make you look directly into her “I know you wanna get laid so bad… And with none other than the golden boy himself”

You roll your eyes, lightly pushing her away from you.

“It’s the other way around. Look at the shit he started to post after that party”

“Don’t act like you didn’t just spend two whole weeks looking at his stories” she scoffs as she harshly pushes you down the couch “I know you want him, you’re just playing hard to get in hopes you can conquer him and make him committed somehow”

You shake your head in disapproval, throwing a cushion in her direction.

“Babe, I’m warning you” she says as she easily catches the cushion “Jungkook doesn’t do love. He just loves fucking. He might be all excited now because he found a challenge, but either you continue to play hard to get and he’ll eventually get tired of you, or he gets into your pants and forget about your existence the day after”

Now your plan doesn’t sound as fun as it did before. No matter how much you like getting attention from other boys, you can’t deny that you can get pretty emotional if you get close enough. You’re very aware that you like Jungkook and your romance-filled mind wishes you can “fix him”. But Sera is right…

“Don’t worry Sera” you close Instagram, letting out a deep sigh “You know this is my way of having fun with men…”

“Bull-“ as she’s about to tell you off on your unconventional crush even further, the door bell ringing repeatedly interrupts your best friend.

She wonders whether she should ignore it or check the persons outside, at first choosing to leave it alone and keep her attention on you, but the bell keeps ringing and ringing nonstop. She immediately gets up, going to the door to see who’s in such a hurry to see you.

To your surprise, Ilsung rushes inside, removing his shoes and putting the slippers on in a rush. It’s not the first time he visits you, but it’s definitely the first time seeing him so preoccupied. Sera looks at him confused before giving him a death glare because of his sudden intrusion… Unfortunately he isn’t alone.

Jungkook is just behind him, also removing his shoes and putting the slippers, but in a very calm manner. He looks almost annoyed, like whatever happened before ruined his whole day.

“Sera, I fucked up…” he walks back and forth rapidly with his hands on his waist “I didn’t know she’s crazy”

“Ilsung, look at me… Calm down. Just tell me what the fuck happened”

Long story short: a girl he met at the party thought they became a thing after their one night stand and started to follow him around. Literally. At the grocery store. At the park. Even at work. She was everywhere. Then he confronted her and told her to back off, which she obviously didn’t like and only encouraged her to harass him even more.

“We must report this to the police immediately!” Sera says in disbelief after he finished to tell the whole story.

“I already did…” he says defeated “They didn’t take me seriously. They laughed at me”

“Ilsung, let me beat her up” Jungkook says coldly “She’s violent and delusional, and the fucking cops won’t listen”

You look at him, surprised by his aggressive intervention.

“Violence won’t solve anything Jungkook” you calmly reply “It’ll only become a tool for her to use”

“So what the fuck is he supposed to do, uh? Hide ‘til she forgets about him?”

“The police just needs to understand that his situation is serious and that people might end up hurt”

“Well actually, I did come here for a reason…” Ilsung adds as he stands beside Sera “She’s mad because I was intimate with her that night, only her. She told me that there’s no other girl beside her, so to her she’s supposedly my girlfriend”

Sera raises her eyebrows, trying to understand the point he’s making.

“Can you pretend to be my real girlfriend for the time being?” What in the motherfuck- “Pretty please”

“Bro, your plan sucks ass… Ain’t no fucking way she’s gonna believe you after you fucked her brains out during the party” Jungkook says aloud as Sera looks at Ilsung with eyes wide open.

“Just to put in that thick skull of hers that she’s nothing more than a quickie”

“I’m sorry buddy, but I’m not letting you use her like this… Are you aware she might get hurt?” Jungkook nods in approval, looking at you with his arms crossed.

“Look, this shit’s beyond crazy… This is the only solution I can think of, okay?” Ilsung sighs frustratedly, his thumb and index finger pinching the side of his nose “I promise I will report this, I just need a defence tactic right now”

You look at Sera. Although a frown is hardening her sweet-looking face, you can’t help to notice the subtle hint of worry in her eyes. She just takes a deep breath in and out before embracing the desperate man who asked for her help.

“All right… Just promise me you’ll get that bitch arrested”

“Promise”

They’re not together. And many times they’ve told others that they’re not romantically interested in each other. But you genuinely feel like you’re intruding in a very intimate moment, so you divert your eyes elsewhere.

That elsewhere being Jungkook, who has been staring at you long before you noticed. It’s like the romantic atmosphere clouded both of your brains, Jungkook not looking at you coldly like he has done previously, but giving you a faint smile, his eyes slightly squinting, protruding his eye fat even further.

They’ve been on three fake dates already. Or at least that’s what they call it, because they look too suspiciously believable to be faking anything. You and Jungkook have been on the look out on every date to make sure that both of them are safe and sound, but fortunately all you witness is the girl looking at them with an actual pained look.

If you didn’t know any better, you would actually feel bad for her. But you know she’s just a girl filled with delusions who can’t leave the poor guy even after being told no. She deserves to suffer like this. And it’s satisfying seeing her being helpless because she can’t cause a scene out in public.

“Fuck- she’s at the verge of tears” Jungkook laughs quietly not to accidentally get her attention.

“For real, she’s so pathetic” you laugh in return.

“You think she got the best dickdown of her life?”

“Probably… Sera would obviously know about that”

You both are chatting so comfortably, that Jungkook ignores the fact he tried to fuck you and you rejected him in return, or that Jungkook posted all those “couple photos” on his stories out of pettiness and you just ignored him. Maybe it’s the way you look so “fuck-able” whilst also cock-blocking yourself with every dude who show interest in you, or maybe the way you looked so good that night, seated in front of him, on the bed, as you looked up at him with those seemingly innocent eyes. But one thing for him is for sure: your teasing is amazingly irritating to him. And he can’t hold his tension any longer…

“What’s so appealing about making men horny for you, just to reject them after?” he nonchalantly asks, as if the question is normal.

You just look at him confused, letting out a very quiet “huh?” out of your lips as he looks at you right into your eyes with a cocky smirk you’re already familiar with.

“Don’t act like you don’t know” he says as he scoots closer to you “At both parties, when we first met and the night I tried to make love to you. Guys have ogled you like you’re the juiciest meal they’ve ever seen, and you don’t ignore them. You pull them towards you and encourage their advances… Just to push them away when they almost take a bite out of you”

“Am I food or something?” you laugh in disbelief.

“Just answer the question” now he demands it with a more serious tone “Why do you do that? What do you gain from it?”

You sigh. You keep the act up for a while, staying silent like you still don’t get what he’s trying to ask. But you know exactly what he’s saying. Why is he trying to get emotionally intimate with you? Doesn’t seem like the type of guy to try and open up with others, especially with girls he’s just sexually interested in.

But, for once, you just let go.

“I just detest casual sex, or one night stand, or the concept of fuck buddies…” you say before letting out a deep breath “I’m not just cut out for it. Talking from experience”

He raises his eyebrows, obviously because he doesn’t know your backstory.

“Basically, I stepped a foot into hook-up culture because, you know, I was very young back then, I wanted to explore things and everyone seemed to be doing it. So I gave it a try: I did a fuck loud of foreplay before actually doing anything serious. It was fun at first, getting pretty attached to the guys I was involved with, but not too much… Until Anthony, who was that guy. You know, the classic jock who peaked in high school. He’s a former classmate, whom I met again when I turned 21. From then on, pretty much everything changed. I gave myself to him, all of me, for a whole week. And then I didn’t hear from him again. He even blocked me when I asked him what’s up. It was all so sudden”

You pause, taking good look at him. He looks genuinely hurt hearing you share your story, giving you a comforting smile, almost like he understands the feeling.

“And that’s when I understood that I can’t be like Sera. You know, not giving a fuck and shit… I’m a fucking pathetic romantic with attachment issues who daydreams of living the rest of my life with my soulmate. I just can’t give myself like that to someone. Some people fuck without feelings. I just can’t”

The silence is incredibly awkward. Did you just over-share? Did you just trauma dump the shit out of him you made him speechless? But before you can apologise for your embarrassing sob story, he holds your hand in his and starts clearing his throat.

“Don’t be ashamed” he reassures you with that beautiful smile of his “Seem like we’re not so different from each other after all”

“The fuck you mean?” you suppress your laugh with a bitter scoff.

“I love fucking” he says dryly, which immediately shuts your mouth because of how confusing that answer is “I love fucking because it gives the illusion of being in love, of having a girl be completely mine; having me be completely hers for one night. Without ending up hurt when it all ends”

You gasp at the confession. He genuinely opened up to you. Which is weird for a guy to do.

“Last time I gave my heart to someone, I became completely helpless” he looks down at your hand, caressing the back of it with his thumb “There was a time I couldn’t last a day without alcohol. All because I saw my ex cheating on me. On our bed. Using the toys we used to use. And I just looked at them. And he looked at me as he kept fucking her”

You cough lightly to suppress your tears as he goes on with the story, his eyes getting shinier as he tells you every single detail.

“I saw the state I was in after the break up and I just couldn’t understand… They were just fucking. That’s all. Obviously, I couldn’t stay with her after she betrayed me, but I couldn’t understand why it hurt so much” he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, tightening his grip on your hand before looking at you again “… I realised that just as she was just fucking that guy, she also just fucked me. And when she just looked at me indifferently every time we passed by each other, she proved my point”

You say nothing because there’s really not much to say to help his pain. You just lift your left hand to cup his cheek gently, looking at him with almost teary eyes.

Although what you’re doing is pretty sudden, he doesn’t look shocked or taken aback, he locks his gaze to yours like there’s nothing else around you. Just the two of you.

“We just want to be loved, don’t we?” he simply states, and you just nod.

You’re all curled up on your bed after taking a long, calming shower. For the first time ever in your friendship, you told her upfront you don’t want to go out with her. She hasn’t expected it at all from you, but she has felt somewhat happy nonetheless as it meant more alone time with Ilsung. But as much as you wish you could think about that tonight, not being by her side is less of a concern for you now…

… You still feel Jungkook’s thumb caressing your hands as your fingers are occupied in refreshing your Instagram feed over and over again, hoping that the familiar circle will pop up eventually.

And it does…

Before clicking it, you let out a deep breath and try to guess what he has posted for a moment. Not unusual for you really. But what’s unusual is the fact you’re not giggling like you usually do with him. You’re just anxious right now.

He has probably gone to the party with Ilsung and Sera, and now he’s definitely catching his prey for the night. Or maybe his fucking, considering it’s already 11 PM.

But to your surprise, you don’t see the umpteenth story with a girl he’s going to hook with. All he shares is a song: “I wanna be yours” by Arctic Monkeys.

You know you’re mad for thinking this way, but you genuinely wish he’d share something more vulgar, so that your doubts going through your head about him can finally stop. And then ghost him for good.

But now he just confused you even more. Didn’t he just say he doesn’t want anything serious a few days ago?

Yet you find your fingers inches away from the message box under his story, trembling and hesitant to type.

“Fuck it” you tell yourself.

Your response to that story is simple: “You already are”

Sent.

You throw your cellphone on the other side of the bed, cringing and silently screaming at yourself. You fucked it all up, the voices say. You don’t know what has gotten to your head all of a sudden. You just feel the urge to have him all to yourself, although you know you can’t have him like that. Or that’s what he has told you before.

Then the notification from your phone immediately gets you up to grab it back: “I’ll be there in 10 min” he wrote.

Panicking, you freeze in front of the screen, looking baffled at the message. That’s not what you expected from him. Coming to your apartment. When you’re all alone. And it’s very late.

You take a deep breath, then look down to see the state you’re in. You’re wearing grey sweat pants and a white tank top that’s translucent enough for your nipples to peek through the fabric.

Usually, you’d wear a sweatshirt to cover yourself up when a guest comes over, but something’s stopping you. You aren’t indecisive, but this time you genuinely are debating whether you should care or not. But that’s just a silly excuse.

Even telling yourself that it’d be rude to text him not to come over is another silly excuse of yours. You had all the time in the world, yet you don’t write him anything. You just stand there.

And after wasting your time for ten whole minutes or more, you hear the doorbell ring. He’s here. So many years spent protecting yourself from situations like these thrown down the drain.

“Open up, I’m here” he texts.

Slowly making your way to the door, you hesitate for a moment, contemplating whether you should shout at him to go away or leave him outside in complete silence. You open the door anyway, your eyes directed to his black combat boots because you’re way too conscious of how he might look at you.

The moment is spent in a few seconds of quiet, although to you it feels like hours are passing by. And before you could muster up the courage to look up at him, you feel his fingers brushing your chin, gently lifting your face.

“Not so brave anymore, huh?” he tries to make you smile with his usual cocky remarks, but all you give him is a tense expression, looking like a scared cat in his eyes “Can I come in?”

You gently nod before moving aside to let him in and you use this as an opportunity to calm yourself down. You don’t even wait for him or close the door for him and immediately walk towards the living room as he removes his shoes.

You’re too busy biting your bottom lip and quietly stomping your feet on the floor, that you don’t feel him slowly making his way to you.

Feeling goosebumps when you feel his fingers softly brushing against your arm, you turn around to face him. You expect some kind of smirk from him, but to your surprise he’s very serious. But not an “are-you-okay-type” of serious. More like an “angry-type” of serious.

“Don’t play with me” he says with a cold and indifferent expression you usually don’t see from him.

Your face slightly contorts in confusion. So now you’re the one who’s playing? Says the guy who probably fucked every girl in town.

“Play with you?” you laugh “Aren’t you the one doing that with every girl you meet?”

He scoffs at that, looking away in disbelief.

“My sex life is none of your business” he closes the gap between your bodies, his chest just inches away from your face “… You desperately want to look like you don’t care, huh?”

“I don’t, for your information” now he’s the one who’s laughing incredulously.

“Stop fucking around with me, Y/N!” his tone is louder, but he isn’t screaming at you, just clearly frustrated “You send me a message like that and expect me to act cool when you’re being a bitch all of a sudden”

“I didn’t ask you to come over-“

“Stop with the bullshit, Y/N! You know very well it takes seconds to tell me you don’t want me here…” he backs up, the sexual tension fading away as quickly as he’s getting furious “You know what… It was a mistake coming here”

Your mind takes a sigh of relief. You’re safe now, you think. Now he’s angry and he definitely wouldn’t want to see you ever again.

Yet you slightly jump at his reaction, and you find your hands clinging into his arms. You stopped him. You wish he’ll snap and snatch your hands away. But he doesn’t protest, he just stays still, waiting for you to tell him anything.

“Just wait a second” you hear Jungkook sighing and murmuring something before he turns around, always with the same indifferent face.

“I just wanna know your intentions with me. Simple” you want to sound sure of yourself, like this argument isn’t effecting you at all, but your voice cracks are hard to ignore when you speak.

“My intentions?” he lets out a chuckle before regaining composure “I think it’s pretty clear what I want from you”

You blush at such a direct response, but you quickly snap out of it. That’s not a good enough response because you’ve known for days that he wants to fuck you.

“I get it. You want to fuck me” you laugh as you close the gap between you two again “And you remember I don’t do casual sex, right?”

“Well then, what the fuck do you want from me?” he’s supposed to say it with more anger and conviction, but he just whispers it to you.

“No, what do you want from me… Nothing more, right?” you quietly say, trying to hide how hurt you feel “Just another one of your conquest to mend your broken heart”

Jungkook’s eyes widen in shock and he opens his mouth trying to say something. But he’s speechless. For the first time in his life, he doesn’t have an answer. “Yes, you’re just that” he wants to say. Because it’s be easier that way. However, he just looks at you as he replays all the moments you’ve spent together for the past few days.

He can’t remember the last time he hung out with a girl without the intention of eventually getting her in his bed. The situation feels so weird because he knows how bad he wants to take you right now, but seeing the clear desperation in your eyes affects him in a way he can’t yet explain. He cares more than he imagined.

“Jungkook, do you have feelings for me?” but he says nothing “Just say yes or no”

He knows the answer. That’s the last straw for him. But it scares him. He doesn’t wanna do it. And at the same time he does. You’re literally driving him crazy and you don’t even notice it.

“For fuck sake, say something!”

“Okay, fuck…” he closes his eyes, scared of the words that are about to come out of his mouth “It’s difficult Y/N, I just… Like talking to you and having you around. I might think of you from time to time, but I don’t know really”

Your eyes soften at his confession. Obviously, you’d feel a lot better if he was more honest with himself, but now you’re sure that what you’re feeling isn’t one sided.

“Well, you know what that means-“

“Y/N, don’t” he places his hand behind your neck, his face getting dangerously close to yours “I’m not ready… And I don’t want to hurt you”

“Hurt me?” you know exactly what he means but you don’t want him to bring up your sob story right now.

“I just wanna have a good time and you want commitment… And we’ve both have our reasons-“

“Fuck her and fuck him” you emphasise every word as you look directly into his eyes “I want you”

You’re going to have your heart broken now. You’re sure of it. And what hurts is that you don’t even care although you’re aware of the consequences.

“I want you” he repeats.

And with a sudden pull, his lips are on yours. Licking, biting, moaning in each other’s mouths like you’ve both been waiting for this moment to happen. Which you did.

He pushes you towards the wall, kissing and biting on your jaw and neck as you back up. You can’t help but groan and look at ceiling as he’s coating your skin with his saliva.

You’re so entranced by his sloppy kisses that you don’t notice his fingers tracing your chest, then your abdomen, stopping at your pelvic bone.

He stops everything just to look at you, already sweating and out of breath. You already look like that and he has just given you hickeys. He wonders how you’re going to look once he finally fucks you and the thought has made him more eager to know your limits.

“Don’t you dare fucking close those eyes. Fucking look at me” he says as he starts to rub his ring and middle fingers on your clothed core.

You have forgotten how fantastic it feels to be fingered by someone else. You let out the neediest whimper he’s ever heard and the fact your genuinely trying your hardest not to close your eyes makes it even harder for him not to bend you over and fuck you dumb right there and then.

“Look at you… And I’m just rubbing two fingers on you” you move your hips to get more friction, his teasing words making your pants and underwear soaked in your arousal.

Without any warning, he tears up your tank top, making you gasp for a second, before he violently pulls down your sweat pants along side your panties as he sucks on both your hardened nipples.

You reach out for the hem of his shirt, wanting to see and feel more of him, but before you have the chance to do anything, he goes down on you, lifting you up and making you sit on his shoulders as he’s kneeling right in front of your pussy. Your position is weird but comfortable enough for you, as your back is leaned on the wall and his strong hands are holding you just above your ass.

“Jungkook, shouldn’t you-“ he could care less about what you have to say, ‘cause all he has in mind is eating you out and making you a moaning mess.

He opens his mouth wide before sucking on your folds and your clit at the same time. You look down and see how erotic all of it is: his lips are literally devouring you, making wet and sloppy noises that are rarely heard even in porn videos; your juices are coating him from nose to chin, moaning and humming to make you feel the vibrations coming out of his mouth; and on top of that, he doesn’t stop, not even a second to take a deep breath or to give you some time to relax. He’s gone all in, continuously sucking and licking every inch of your pussy.

You’re totally fucked and have no other thoughts than the pleasure that Jungkook is giving you. And can you be blamed when no one has ever given you head before? And this is already too good for your first head ever.

You gently take a fist full of his hair, slowly grinding yourself on his face, as you feel your high getting closer. He looks at you, immediately understanding that you are about to come.

You’d imagine guys would stop at some point because they want their girls to come on their cock or something. But he doesn’t. No matter how much you’re trembling, or trying to push his head away, or how much you’re telling him that you don’t want to come yet, he doesn’t comply.

The more you shake, the more his mouth moves around your wet core, until you can’t contain yourself anymore and you reach your high with a high pitched whine you have tried to hush.

“Jungkook…” you call for his attention, still out of breath from the orgasm “Why’d you end it like this? What about you?”

He chuckles at your question.

“You thought we were done, right? We’re not done” he just says.

He gets you off of his shoulders while you’re still looking at him confused and then makes his way towards the living room table, tapping on it and moving it around just a bit.

Standing up, you try to walk straight but you’re still sensitive and tense from his tongue. You almost fall, but luckily you catch his wide shoulders for support.

You caress his back, kiss his shoulder, hug him, but nothing… All he does is taking a little square packet out of his pocket and then started undressing himself, his back still facing you, ignoring your presence.

“Jungkook…” you gulp, worried that you’ve done something that has pissed him off and thinking he isn’t in the mood anymore “I don’t understand-“

“I said I’m not done, understand?” he says as he suddenly turns around looking down on you, his large hard dick poking at your bellybutton “Sit on the table”

He smacks your ass once and then twice. He’s mad for some reason. You know a guy like him is rough, but he isn’t as playful and cocky like the usual Jungkook he sees.

Sitting there, you look at him opening the condom carefully and then sliding it on his dick with one swift motion. His hand then wraps immediately around your neck, making you lay down on the cold surface.

“It’s been a while for you, I’ll be gentle…” he reassures “… For now”

He teases your entrance with the tip, looking at you as you sigh from the feeling. A few more swipes and he gently enters you, while he tightens his grip on your neck, making you squint your eyes from the slight pain.

He makes sure that the first thrusts are gentle and sweet, not putting his whole length in you yet to make you more used to his size.

“Fuck… So good” you whisper as you clench around his length.

“Don’t feel pain anymore?” he quietly asks and you shake your head to tell him it doesn’t hurt.

You see him smirk, the hold on your neck more secure than before, and without a warning he pushes his whole cock inside of you. He groans as you whimper, making sure you can feel the power he puts in with each thrust.

In fact, he’s not going fast at all. All he cares about is to see the faces you’re making and enjoying how fucked up you look right now. Your light hands are nothing compared to his, but to his eyes your fingers wrapped around his wrist and forearm are just perfect.

“Please…” you menage to say loud enough “Fuck me harder”

You’re already being fucked hard, but Jungkook knew exactly what you’re hinting at. His pace is still slow, basically showing you less than 10% of what he can actually do to you.

But he wastes no time any further and he pulls out of you, turning you around, bending you over on the table. You gasp when he suddenly grabs your arms and lifts you up as he slams himself inside of you with more force and even more speed.

The sound of your bodies colliding, your pathetic little moans and Jungkook’s low groans echo through the room, with no worries of being heard by the neighbours or other people passing by.

“Jungkook… Too much” it’s music to his ears as this is his sign to go even harder, lowering himself a bit to pound your pussy more directly.

Tonight, you have made new experiences, and coming a second time is one of them. You come undone, bringing your thighs together to stop yourself from shaking too much, and even with your second high he doesn’t stop thrusting into you.

However, you do feel that he’s very near to coming as he starts moaning louder than earlier, his grip on your arms tightening. And just when he starts to grunt, his thrusts become slower. He lets go of you, letting you down gently on the table.

“Fuck, that was fucking amazing” he breathes out before laughing.

You’re so lost in the moment that you’ve forgotten how to use your body correctly and after Jungkook makes fun of your current state, he helps you up, letting you hug him.

And there you go. Now you’re looking at his face, having fallen completely for him. Exactly what you know would happen. You say nothing, too scared to ruin the moment, and all you do is kiss him and saying “Thank you” over and over again.

You don’t know what exactly is going on in his mind. All you see is him staring at you in awe and before you know it he gives you the warmest smile you’ve ever seen.

“Yes, by the way…” you tilt your head to the side like a confused puppy, but you still listen closely “Seems like you are dear to me”

You almost cry at the very late answer. You genuinely thought you’ve let your guard down and let this fuel your nightmare a second time, but not this time.

You’ve finally found someone who wants you, who cares about you, who cherishes you, as much as you do.

But that hasn’t stopped him from leaving you in the middle of the night, waking up alone the next morning with no traces of Jungkook left behind…

#bts fanfic #bts jungkook #bts smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook smut #jeon jeongguk #jeon jungguk #jeon jk #kpop smut #smut #mutual pining #one shot #non idol au #slow burn #fuckboi #fuckboys #spotify

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saintodo · 1 day

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thots: clubbing with maki

♡ note: wrote this with my meat in my hand ... this isn't even that ns/fw tho

♡ pairing: zenin maki x gn reader

♡ word count: .6k

♡ tags: alcohol consumption, unclear relationship between maki and the reader (could be friends, could be something more) but they're not exclusive, maki and reader both like girls, build up / lead up to sex, lmk if i should tag anything else

oh now im thinking of going to the club with maki…

first thing you guys like to do when you get to the club is make a beeline for the bar. you both like to pregame a good amount beforehand, but it’s nice to sip on something throughout the night to keep the buzz going. maki likes something that actually tastes like liquor while you prefer something a little more on the sweeter side so it masks the taste of the alcohol. she pulls a face when you playfully offer her taste of your drink, full well knowing she hates how sweet your drinks typically are. you shrug, telling her to “suit herself” before taking a quick sip and dragging her towards the dance floor with your free hand.

maki follows you easily as you pull her to the outskirts of the crowd, bumping to the beat as you go. once you’re satisfied with where you are, you turn towards her, wrapping an arm around her neck as she places a hand on your hip. you make small comments here and there about the club between sips of your drink. it’s a struggle to make yourself heard over the loud music, but maki cranes her neck, nearly pressing her ear against your lips to listen to whatever you’re saying. she can’t hear much, but she nods along anyways.

when you mention that there’s a cute girl in your line of sight, maki perks up, skillfully turning you two so she can get a look at the person you’re talking about. her eyes scan the crowd, trying to pinpoint the person you’ve described for her. maki finally finds the girl you’re talking about - she’s dancing in the thick of the crowd with what looks like a group of her friends. maki leans in to murmur her agreement that “she is cute,” eyes appraising the girl in the crowd.

you pull back a bit, and maki easily recognizes the familiar gleam in your eyes - terribly excited and almost bordering on predatory. your smile is a little sharp around the edges when you suggest that you should move closer. maki shrugs and says “sure,” but she knows that your expression is probably reflected on her own.

you move your arm from the back of her neck to take her hand in yours as you begin to weave through the throng of people in the club. maki presses herself close to you, tossing glares at people who bump into you a little too roughly for her liking. it goes unnoticed by you, who offers apologies as you make your way closer to the pretty little thing you spotted earlier.

you turn towards maki again, slinging your arm around the back of her neck and pressing yourself closer to her than before. you start swaying your hips along to the music, in a way that even maki finds captivating. she knows this routine well enough to know that you want to put on a show, and she follows along. maki slips her hand into your back pocket, enjoying your little yelp when she gives your ass a quick squeeze, and draws you even nearer, to the point where you can feel the outline of harness she has on. the dildo that attaches itself to it sits snug in your shoulder bag, just waiting to be used.

when maki glances over your shoulder to look out at the crowd, she grins to herself. it looks like the little show you both put on worked because the cute girl you spotted earlier has her eyes glued to the point where your and maki’s lower halves are rubbing against each other. the girl finally lifts her head to meet maki’s gaze, looking startled and totally taken aback at being caught red-handed.

maki simply motions the girl over with a tilt of her head, and when the girl shyly makes her way over, maki knows that you both have trapped your prey for this evening.

#holy.hymns #shrine.jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #maki zenin x reader #zenin maki x reader #maki x reader #maki smut #maki zenin smut #hmm not sure what else to tag but #just know i wanna fuck girls with maki heheeh

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theevilqueenreincarnated · 7 months

Text

Nah tommrowo I’ll stop but that means I need to finish this shot

And the rest of my drink

Cuz I don’t wNt to be like her

I’m stronger

I won’t turn to drinking like she did

#fuck I was vibing so hard until I passed out for 2 hours #I sobered up so much #after just 2 hours and a meal #like fuck #but now if I can finish this drink and shot #I’ll be vibing again #and hit what’s left of my 2 gram cart that i demolished in 4 days jfc #but my tummy is angy #I can tell how much she hates the alcohol #but I want to vibe and finish this shit so I’m not tempted tomorrow

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joelscurls · 8 months

Text

I wanna show you off

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

words: 4.1k

summary: The women who live in your building aren't subtle in their hatred for you — or their affection for your boyfriend, Joel. You decide to set them straight.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, porn with plot, no outbreak, established relationship, implied age gap, horrible neighbors, general cattiness, all the ladies want Joel, alcohol consumption, fluff, explicit smut, possessive!reader, exhibitionism, dirty talk, oral (m receiving), facefucking, unprotected piv, creampie, one (1) spank, use of pet names (baby, angel, darlin', etc.), I think that's all? lmk if I missed anything!

a/n: idk what happened. I saw one too many tiktok edits set to the song agora hills by doja cat and blacked out. anyway, enjoy!

If it weren’t for your rent-controlled apartment with a perfect view of the downtown skyline, you would’ve moved out of your building by now.

Your neighbors don’t like you. You’re certain of it. You can tell by the way the ladies stick their noses up at you in the elevator and whisper to each other the second they think you’re out of earshot.

It had started, you suspect, because of your age. You’re a lot younger than all of the other residents here, your apartment left to you by your grandmother after she passed away.

The building is prime real estate, situated in the heart of one of the city’s most desirable neighborhoods. Most of the people who live here have done so for ten, twenty, even thirty years. And it seems that time has festered a sort of social hierarchy: one which places you at the very bottom.

You shouldn’t care. And you hadn’t, for a while. But their eyes have started to feel like daggers, pointed directly at you at all times, and you feel as if you can’t even enter the building without judgment.

You’re not a bad neighbor. You’re not. You’d learned through living in a dormitory in college how thin shared walls can be, and, as a result, the proper volume at which to keep your music; how you should always be cautious to not let your door slam closed on the way in; that you should never vacuum after eight pm or before eight am.

You never leave trash in the hallway, and you park your car only in your allotted spot, despite the fact that it’s the farthest away from the building.

Even so, the lack of weathering in your face makes them look at you like you’re less, like you’re a greedy little thing who has taken something she isn’t worthy of.

It’s the same way they look at you when they see you with your boyfriend, Joel, for the first time.

They leer when you walk into the foyer, hand-in-hand with an older man. He’s handsome, rugged, something out of Nicholas Sparks novel. And you’re you.

Joel thinks you’re being paranoid at first, says they couldn’t possibly hate such a sweet, friendly girl. The girl he loves so damn much. But it doesn’t take long for him to notice it too: the glares, the scoffs, the misplaced judgment — never set in his direction, only ever yours.

One Sunday afternoon, as he sits on your couch watching the Cowboys game with a sweating bottle of beer in his hand, you step out to grab your mail. You’re close to tears when you return, flinging the door open, envelopes slipping from your trembling fingers.

He leaps up as soon as he catches sight of your face. Your expression is stuck somewhere between sadness and rage, bottom lip tucked between your teeth so firmly he worries you’ll draw blood.

“I hate them,” you sob as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you against his broad chest. You’re wetting his shirt, the one he just bought the other day. But he won’t let you lift your head. If anything, he holds you tighter.

“Wanna tell me what happened, darlin?” he asks, leading you toward the couch. You sit down together, your body still wrapped in his, and you groan.

“It’s stupid.” Your voice is muffled by cotton. He loosens his grip on you only enough to let you turn your face. “I was getting my mail, and they were down in the lobby,” you sniff. “The woman who lives right next door – the one with the outdated perm, and the one across the hall with the yippy little dog.”

“Mhm,” Joel soothes, running his thumb gently along the tense line of your jaw. “Did they say somethin’ to you?”

You huff. “No, not to me. They didn’t see me there.”

Their hushed voices still ring in your head like a fire alarm in need of new batteries: relentless, infuriating.

Don’t know what in the world a handsome gentleman like that is doing with a little girl like her. You’re tellin’ me. What a shame. Such a young thing – she can’t possibly know how to handle a man like that. He needs a woman his own age!

“They said I’m not good for you,” you weep. “That I’m too young. That I — I c-can’t be what you need.”

“Darlin,” Joel drawls. He fishes the tv remote off of the coffee table and flicks the screen off. Drops it somewhere next to him on the cushion. The apartment is noticeably quiet now, apart from your shaky breaths and the dull drone of an idling truck engine from the street below.

“You know I love you, right?”

You sniff again. Nod.

“I don’t give a shit if people think you’re too young for me,” he huffs. “You’re a grown woman. You give me everything I could possibly need and then some.”

“Yeah?” you squeak. You know deep down that Joel wouldn’t stay with you if he had any reservations about any aspect of your relationship. But after months of no reprieve from stinging glares and brash insults, you feel as if you’ve been broken down, reduced to an anxious, overwrought version of yourself.

Joel repositions himself, sprawling back on the couch and pulling you with him so that you’re laying against him. “Yeah,” he repeats, stroking your hair. He tucks a loose strand behind your ear, away from your glassy eyes. “Those ladies can get their asses in line.”

You laugh, then — a real, genuine laugh — the kind that Joel can somehow always pull out of you, even in the most inopportune of times.

You’re so grateful for him, for his innate ability to calm you down when it feels like the world is crumbling below your feet. Grateful that he’s yours.

You lift your head. Prop yourself up by the elbow on Joel’s thigh. Wipe away the lingering wet on your cheeks with a deep, settling breath.

“Does it stroke your ego, having a fan club of women who wanna fuck you?”

He smirks. Pulls you closer to him with a hand cradling your face.

“Maybe a little,” he whispers, his lips ghosting yours. “Does it stroke your ego, bein’ the only one who gets to fuck me?”

And in truth, it does. You’re the only one who knows where he likes to be kissed, how he likes his cock stroked, how to make him cum embarrassingly quick with just your mouth.

You’ve learned him intimately, every inch of him. Ruined him for any other woman.

So in a fucked up kind of way — it does.

“Yeah,” you admit. You suck his bottom lip into your mouth, silently reveling in the way he immediately moans, the way he bends to you.

“These all mine?” You bring a finger to his lips, sputter on a shaky exhale when he unexpectedly parts them and sucks the digit into his mouth.

“Mhm,” he hums around you, takes your free hand in his and guides it down his body, across the expanse of his torso, the plush of his belly, pausing when you reach his crotch.

Your pulse quickens, then, a dull throb forming at the base of your neck. You extricate your finger from his mouth with a gentle pop.

“This too,” he whispers, canting his hips up toward the flat of your palm.

He’s half-hard, his clothed bulge pleading for attention. But he pulls your hand away quickly, not letting himself get carried away at the feeling of your fingers grazing him through denim.

Instead, he re-situates it against his chest so that you can feel his heartbeat where it hammers under skin, against flesh and bone. “This is all yours too,” he says, voice so low it reverberates in your skull.

“All of it — all of me. Don’t gotta worry your pretty little head with anythin’ anyone else has to say about the matter. Got it?”

His words are spoken with so much conviction that you have no choice but to believe them, to let them stick in your brain like anchors in sand: deep and immovable.

Yours, yours, yours.

And nobody else’s.

“Yeah,” you smile into the column of his neck, inhaling his scent: mostly him, but with notes of you.

“Got it.”

It’s two weeks later when she makes a move on him: the woman with the perm. Joel is taken aback by her boldness, with you just a few feet away, digging your key into the lock of your mailbox.

“You must work with your hands,” she purrs, grabbing one of his wrists and examining his calloused fingers with such little integrity, his mouth actually slips open at the unabashedness of it all.

“Uh-”

“I’m Sheila,” she hums, raking her fingers through tight, blonde curls. “And you are?”

“Joel,” he grunts noncommittally. Wrenches his arm back. He doesn’t miss the way her eyebrows twitch in offense.

But she’s insatiable, this woman. She bounces back like a rubber band, not-so-subtly pushing her breasts together, the zip of her sweatshirt slipping down an inch and her mouth curving into a salacious grin.

You just about stop dead in your tracks when you round the corner to the lobby, junk mail in hand, and see her, her body turned towards Joel’s, chest pushed out and hip popped. She has a bedazzled tote bag full of groceries slung over her shoulder, a head of leafy greens poking out the top.

“Hi neighbor!” she smiles mockingly at you, all lipstick-stained teeth, when you sidle up to Joel. “I was just telling your friend here what nice, strong arms he has.” She’s not looking at you, eyes locked firmly on Joel’s biceps, nearly drooling at the sight of him.

Heat spools behind your ears, red-hot.

“Not her friend,” Joel corrects before you can. “‘M her boyfriend.”

“Oh,” she says. “Boyfriend.” Her lips wrap loosely around the word, like it’s some fanciful thing. “You’re too old to be someone’s boyfriend.”

Joel takes a step away from her, closer to you, and splays a steadying hand across your back. “Man-friend, then.”

You laugh, not because it’s funny, but because this entire conversation is fucking awkward.

Sheila pays you no attention.

“Well,” she sighs, overtly staring at the exposed skin of Joel’s chest, where the top two buttons of his flannel are undone, “Joel, if you’re ever lookin’ for a good meal, I’m just next door.” She flits her eyes up to his and smirks. “Know a big man like you has gotta eat.”

Your vision blurs scarlet.

Joel is equally as infuriated. The disrespect of this woman, to so openly flirt with him in front of you. His fists ball tightly at his sides.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” he gruffs. “Anyway, nice to meet ya ma’am-“

“Sheila,” she reminds him.

“Sheila,” he repeats, only to appease her. He turns to you, squeezing your waist affectionately. “We should probably get goin’, right sweetheart?”

You’re still fuming, barely able to register Joel’s voice next to you through the thick haze of pure fury clouding your mind, but you manage to nod, spit out a hurried yeah.

And with that, Joel is turning on his heels, pulling you with him toward the elevators. You don’t dare look back at her, but you can feel her eyes boring a hole in the back of your head.

Her footfall fades into the mailroom and you breathe a minuscule sigh of relief. At least she’s out of your sight.

“Please just move in with me,” Joel begs when you’re finally behind closed metal doors, the inspection plaque situated above the buttons suddenly extremely interesting as you try to focus on not thinking about setting this woman’s apartment on fire.

You’ve talked about living together a few times. It’s just — you’ve never considered it so seriously until right now.

“I can’t let them win,” you mutter, agitated.

You hate how they’ve made you feel, like you’re some helpless animal tucked in the corner, hiding from them. Just waiting for the next ambush.

With the passing of each floor, your anger simmers, bubbles into a silent rage in your stomach, one which threatens to boil over at the next underestimation of Joel’s devotion to you. You need to make it known, once and for all, that he’s yours.

Words from your grandmother play on a loop in your head, ones she repeated to you often when you were a child: if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.

And then you have a thought — a devious thought — maybe you don’t have to say anything to get your point across. Not to them, anyway.

Your mouth is on Joel the second you’re back inside the four walls of your own apartment, slotting against his pulse point and sucking a desperate bruise there.

He’s not expecting it — why would he be? You’ve just been seething the entire elevator ride up to your floor, the entire walk down the long, winding hallway to your unit. He’d practically been able to see the steam billowing from your ears.

So the switch-up is more than a bit dizzying, to say the least.

“Whoa, darlin’,” he pants, his large hands draping over your shoulders. “What are you-”

“Joel.” Your voice is stern; it demands his attention. “Do you trust me?”

Your hand trails down his body languidly, in a straight line to the waistband of his jeans. And fuck, of course he trusts you — more than anyone. But this is wrong, fucked up, for you to make him feel good when you’ve been made to feel so small these past few minutes.

Still, his cock doesn’t get the memo, twitching in his jeans as you place another open-mouthed kiss on the underside of his jaw, your fingers beginning to fiddle with his belt buckle.

You give him no choice with the way you’re touching him, the way you’re looking at him when you pull back, all pleading eyes and parted mouth, but to resign all protest. He’ll give you the world, and if right now you want to use his body to blow off some steam, who is he to complain about it?

“Yeah baby, of course,” he breathes. “What do you need?”

You smirk at him audaciously, tongue smoothing over your teeth. “Need you to be loud,” you purr. Your voice is so innocent in juxtaposition to the words you spew. It sends a chill down the column of his spine. “Let them know who makes you feel good.”

He nearly cums in his pants untouched, grasps at the fabric of your shirt with clumsy hands and nods. “Fuck, okay.”

His belt falls to the floor with a clang.

He lets you take control, then. Lets you mark him with your tongue and your teeth, lets you back him to the door with deft fingers working his shirt buttons open before sinking to your knees in front of him, freeing his hardening cock from the confines of his jeans and boxers.

It’s already weeping for you when you pull it out, precum beading at the tip. He’s so big, growing heavier in your hand with each passing second, and you lose yourself for a moment, hypnotized by him.

“Always so eager to please me, aren’t you, pretty girl?” Joel’s voice pulls you back to earth, soft and adoring.

“Louder,” you remind him. Plant a kiss right over top of his leaking slit.

“Fuck,” he hisses through his teeth. One of his hands flies to the crown of your head, anchoring himself with fingers in your hair. “Dirty fucking girl.”

His voice fills the entranceway, confident and filthy.

“Mmm,” you hum approvingly.

“Yeah? You want me to tell ‘em? Tell ‘em you’re making my cock drool for you? That nobody — shit-” You enclose your lips around his tip, suckling on it as your fingers wrap around the base of his length and you begin to stroke him lazily. “-that nobody has ever made me feel this good?”

Footsteps echo down the hallway and the sound makes you reflexively pause, your hand stiling on Joel’s cock. It’s followed by the jingling of metal, the click of a key in a lock, the opening and closing of a door — all close enough that you can pinpoint the source, can tell where exactly it’s coming from.

Sheila is home.

Perfect.

It’s probably worrying how excited it makes you, the prospect of her hearing, of her sitting alone in her apartment, at her empty dining table, and listening to Joel fall apart at your hands. Maybe they’ve driven you to and over the edge of sanity with their words, her most of all. Regardless, you can’t help the way it makes your cunt flutter around nothing.

You lick a slow stripe up the underside of Joel’s cock, starting just above his balls and dragging the flat of your tongue up, up, up to his tip. His breath shudders, his grip on your hair tightening, and the subtle sting at the center of your scalp gives you another idea.

“Do you wanna fuck my face, Joel?”

“Do I wanna — fuck — you’re gonna kill me, angel.”

“Go ahead,” you encourage, unhinging your jaw as wide as it can go, letting your tongue droop over your bottom lip.

Saliva pools in your waiting mouth and Joel groans at the sight of you, so malleable for him, begging to be used.

“You sure?”

It’s not that he doesn’t think you can handle it. He knows you can. You’ve taken him down your throat more times than he can count. Always so fucking eager to please him, you are — just one of the many reasons he feels so goddamn lucky, so infuriated that anyone would think otherwise.

But still, he can’t help but worry that he’ll hurt you.

You nod, eyes locked on him, confirming beyond a shadow of a doubt that you want this. He nods back, beginning to feed his cock into your mouth, easing it in slowly and halting when his head hits the back of your throat, causing you to gag.

You don’t pull away, don’t show any indication of displeasure. In fact, you dig your fingers into the meat of his thighs, bearing down on him as you push forward. Mascara tears stain your cheeks as you choke on him, laser-focused on relaxing your throat so that you can accommodate more of his length.

Joel pulls back, retreating entirely before pushing in again. He slowly increases his pace, your eyes hooded, so doelike and innocent, as his cockhead bruises your larynx.

The sounds he’s pulling from your mouth are absurdly lewd: muffled gags and frantic inhales of breath. And then there’s him, moaning wildly, not sure if he’d be able to shut up even if he needed to be quiet. Your mouth is good, too fucking good and he’s going to — fuck, he’s going to cum if you don’t stop.

He pulls out abruptly, a string of drool and precum tethering the tip of his cock to your swollen bottom lip. You’re panting, coughing, still bracing yourself against his legs when you fucking smile up at him.

“Christ,” he says. “Fuckin’ angel, you are. Mouth feels like goddamn heaven.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. But I need to cum in that perfect little cunt,” he breathes, pulling a strangled moan from the back of your rawed throat.

He helps you up, spins you around to face the door. You brace both hands on the wood, humming as he pulls your pants down to your knees. His breath is on the back of your neck, trailing up to the shell of your ear with one whisper just for you, because he can’t help it.

“So fuckin’ beautiful, you know that?”

You shiver, responding with a tilt of your head, inviting him in with a needy little mewl. He cradles your face in one of his large hands, the other rubbing over the curve of your ass as he kisses you passionately, tasting himself on your tongue.

The hand on your ass trails lower as he deepens the kiss, two fingers pressing against your clothed seam. You’ve all but soaked through the fabric, wet cotton molding to his knuckles as he caresses them along your pussy before pulling your panties down in one swift motion.

You whine into the kiss, desperate and dripping for him. “Please,” you breathe against his lips. “I’ll make you feel so good, I promise.”

“Know you will,” he coos, mouth parting from yours as he straightens out and lines himself up with your entrance. You arch your back, rocking onto the balls of your feet as he teases you with the tip.

His cock is so thick when it finally notches into you. It’s always so devastatingly thick, no matter how wet you are for him. The stretch stings, a jolt of warm pain coursing through your walls as he stills halfway in.

“You okay?” he asks, one hand resting at the small of your back, the other on your hip, fingers gripping to you only tight enough to hold you in place.

“Yes, fuck — yes,” you whine. “Need you to fuck me, Joel.”

“I’m goin’ to baby, don’t worry,” 'he promises, pushing in another splitting inch. “Pussy’s so goddamn tight, ‘ts suckin’ me right in.”

It feels like hours pass with Joel’s cock motionless inside your aching cunt, his warm breath fanning across your back as he focuses on not cumming. You’re whimpering, begging under the weight of his body, to please just fucking move.

When he finally obliges you, pulling all the way out and then bottoming out in one deep thrust, it nearly punches the air out of your chest. You scrabble for purchase on the door, fingernails scraping against chipped paint. “F-uucckk,” you moan, eyes rolling back in your head as he sets a dizzying pace.

The sound of his balls slapping against the back of your thighs is enough to attract attention on its own, the loud smacksmacksmack going straight to your cunt. Joel growls behind you, driving into you even harder, the tip of his cock brushing against your g-spot.

“Oh, shit,” you cry. Your pussy inadvertently squeezes him and he curses at your back, low and deep.

“Not going to last if you keep doin’ that,” he warns. “Cunt is too fuckin’ good. Best I’ve ever — uuuhh — had.”

He’s not just saying it for show. It’s true. You know it is, too. He’s told you before, both under the influence of your pussy and not. Waited too many goddamn years to feel like this, he’d said once.

“It’s — fuck, it’s fine Joel,” you mutter. “I’m close too, just keep going, right there.”

A door across the hall creaks open. A pair of footsteps patter across tile.

Do you hear that? Yeah; what is that noise?

Joel laughs darkly behind you, snaps his hips up, forcing a guttural moan out of you.

“Think they caught us, darlin’,” he says. “Caught you takin’ my cock like you’re fuckin’ made to.”

Oh my word!

Joel is unrelenting, pounding into you despite the voices right outside your apartment, and you fear for a moment that you’ve created a monster. One of his hands leaves its place on your waist, cracks down on the center of your asscheek with a slap, the flesh recoiling under his palm and you gasp.

The feeling travels between your legs, straight to your neglected clit. It pulsates under the hood with every pass of Joel’s cock over your g-spot, and you feel yourself hurtling toward the edge dangerously fast.

If these people don’t leave, they’re going to hear you cum. Do you want them to hear you cum? Yeah, you think, clit jumping again at the thought, I think I fucking do.

“Joel, fuck-”

“You gonna cum?” he goads. “Yeah, can feel you squeezin’ me — you’re gonna cum, aren’t ya?”

This is vulgar! We should file a noise complaint. C’mon.

His hand snakes around your front then, finds your throbbing bud, and with a few passes of his calloused fingertips, you’re gone, vision whiting out and all noise around you muted.

Joel keeps you upright between him and the door, his grip on you tightening as your muscles slacken. He follows closely behind, cumming inside you with a carnal noise from the back of his throat, rope after rope of his spend filling your cunt.

He pulls out with a grunt, immediately collapsing on the floor. Without his support, you topple over too, falling onto his lap with a satiated giggle.

A banging comes from the other side of the wall then, shaking your kitchen cabinets a few feet away, the clanging of glassware jolting you.

Keep it down next time! I don’t need to hear that!

And then you’re laughing like teenagers, Joel pulling you in for a sloppy kiss, all tongues and teeth.

“Think they’re really gonna make a noise complaint?” Joel asks when you finally come up for air.

“I dunno,” you smile. “Does your offer still stand — for me to move in with you?”

“Always,” he vows, forehead resting against yours.

end notes: ty for reading! pls consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed <3

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic #tlou fic #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal as joel miller #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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buckyalpine · 22 days

Text

I was thinking about Bucky. A beefy Bucky. A beefy mob Bucky. Who is such a simp. I think now is the perfect time to talk about it cause I need some fluff and look at that, it's also my favorite @wifeofbarnes birthday!

Happy birthday sweet angel, I hope you have one filled with so much love ❤️️❤️️

Imagine a brooding beefy mob Bucky pining after his rivals sweet, shy daughter. He has no business liking her, her father was always teetering on the edge of putting a bullet between Bucky's eyebrows but Bucky couldn't help it. She's too cute. Too sweet. Everyone knows there's something between you both between the fleeting glances and the number of times Bucky's left with a blush on his cheeks whenever your around.

For someone who hates meetings, he's more than fond of going to your estate to talk over business with a man he hates so much. He's going to go to every single one of those meeting if it means he gets to see you. He never gets more than a few moments, no more than a few words before he's dragged away by Steve who isn't trying to get stabbed by one of your bodyguards.

Bucky swirls his crystal glass, the ice in clinking against each other as he takes a sip of amber liquid, seated at a private booth at the back of the club. The alcohol that's already warming his body heats him up even more when he sees you laughing and giggling with your friends, a cute little birthday girl tiara on top of your head.

Fuck, you were so perfect.

"You're staring again, you creep" Steve snorts but Bucky pays him no mind. He's too busy looking at you in your pretty dress, your hips swaying to the music. Tipsy, maybe even a little drunk, love sick Bucky wants nothing more than to get a moment alone with you but he's smart enough to wait.

Well, sort of.

"Go distract her bodyguards"

"You're going to get us killed"

"Then you'll die knowing it was for a good cause"

Sam and Steve shake their head as they wander off to find your security team, quietly instigating a small scuffle to keep them occupied. You step outside waiting for your car to pull up, frowning when a large black truck stops in front of you instead. The door opens and-

"Bucky, what are you doing!" you squeak as he pulls you into the back of his SUV, setting you on his lap before telling his driver to park in a secluded area and to leave for a "smoke break".

"I wanted to say hi" Bucky shrugs innocently as if its the most obvious thing in the world.

"And this is how you decided to say hi?" You giggle, feeling butterflies bustle around your tummy being so close to him. You could smell his cologne and the warm scent of whiskey clinging onto his lips; you wanted nothing more than to bury yourself into him. The pink on his cheeks deepened at you caught him in his little act, pretending he wasn't admiring you from afar the whole time.

"I didn't know it was your birthday" He shrugs again while you try to wiggle off his lap, worried someone might see you but he huffs and holds you tighter. "The windows are tinted" he reads your mind without you saying anything, feeling your body relax slightly.

"Wish you'd said hi to me earlier" You say with a sigh and Bucky doesn't like the way you look sad now. You would've loved to spend more time with him instead of hiding away like this.

"I can drop you home" He offers with a boyish smile and you shake your head because it's far too risky and there's no way you'd be able to get away with it and sneak it past your father.

"Not unless you plan on posing as the cleaning lady-

"I can do that"

"Bucky-

"I can pull off a maids dress"

"James"

"Then how about a birthday kiss" He cocked his head to the side playfully and you swear your cheeks couldn't get any hotter.

"Bucky-

"Just one birthday kiss?" He pouts and you can't believe this mass of tattoos and muscle is giving you puppy eyes with his pink bottom lip jutting out.

"I-

"Please, sugar?" He whispers, his fingers tracing nimble little shapes on your hips while you chew your lip nervously, giving him a nod because you can no longer formulate words. He leans down to press his lips softly against yours and you sigh at the little whimper he lets out, his hands pawing at you to hold you closer. He feels all warm and fuzzy on the inside, letting his arms hug your body extra tight.

"Another?" He whispers, lips brushing against yours with a plea in his voice and you giggle, kissing him again.

"One more?"

"Bucky"

"Please?" He smiles when you kiss him until you're both breathless, only pulling away when you need air.

Imagine how cute he'd be trying to spend more time with you as discreetly as possible. You're usually at home so that's his best bet so he'll work with what he can.

"Why is this large fuck around my house so often" Your father rubbed his temples seeing another message for a meeting to go over shipments and territories. "Seriously, he's here almost every week"

Bucky is able to pull it off for a bit but honestly not for long. He's sitting across your father and it's gotten to the point his guards don't bother waiting by the door because Bucky isn't even a threat. He always comes and goes like it's his own house and they're not blind, silently betting over if this will end in a war or wedding.

"For fucks sake are you here to see me or my daughter" your father finally huffs, no longer able to take Bucky's blushing and shifting after you left his office to give him a coffee. "You're here to see her, aren't you"

Bucky nods like a school child who got caught cause knows he hasn't been discreet with his crush. Your father contemplates tossing Bucky into the lake with rocks tied to his ankles but he's also seen the way you look at him and there's no doubt the feelings are mutual.

"God damnit"

Imagine wedding and 2 babies later, Bucky is still just as in love with you. The cutest part is he's still trying to be sneaky.

"You're married now, why the hell are you still trying to hide" Your father berates the mob boss while bouncing his grandson in his lap seeing Bucky tug you into the kitchen so he could kiss you. "You're 6 feet tall and built like a line backer, you can't exactly hide, son"

Bucky pouts at you while you giggle hearing your father snort from the living room.

"He's right, y'know" you nuzzle into your husband while he engulphs you in his arms. You squeal when he hoists you up instead and makes a beeline towards the bedroom. You still stir something in him to this day and since your dad was there to babysit anyway...

"Bucky, where are we going"

"To go make baby #3"

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samandcolbyownme · 8 months

Text

Summary: anon request - "Can u make a colby one where him y/n Kat and Sam are live and y/n and Colby are drunk it can be fluff or smut Idc"

Warnings: strong language, alcohol consumption, heavy flirting, sexual innuendos, sexual tension between reader and Colby, drunk actions, fluff with a dash of filth containing fingering, handjob, sensual stuff but hottt

Word count: 4.9k | somewhat edited I don’t really know if I like this one all that much… I might rewrite it after I get more requests out.

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

"I can't believe you talked me into doing this." You look at Kat in your mirror as you rummage through your clothes.

She laughs, "Oh come on. There will be alcohol so you can just relax, drink and hang out."

"You had me at alcohol." You laugh and hold your a top, "Hows this?" She tilts her head and purses her lips, "mm. It's cute, but I think you need something different."

"Is that what you're wearing?" You point to her outfit and she nods, "Yes." You hold your hand up, "Hang on."

You walk out to your living room, grabbing a box of clothes that you got sent, "There might be something.." you dump the box, ".. in here."

"Oh yeah. Most definitely." Kat nods with a laugh as she goes through the clothes, "Ooh, this. Definitely this."

Your eyes move over the black, lacey tank top that's in her hands, "A cute skirt or a pair of jeans will make this so much better." She adds and tosses it to you.

You catch it and nod, "I'll try it on."

"Well hurry up, we have to be at Sam and Colby's in the next hour." She lays back, scrolling on her phone as you change.

"Did you say Colby?" You walk out slowly and she smiles up at you, "I did.."

"He's doing this livestream with us?" You fix the tank top so it sits right, "Is this some sort of set up by you and Sam?"

She sits up with a sigh, "You got us." She raises her hands, "I think it'll be fun. Plus we'll be live, so it's not like anything crazy can happen.

You drop your hands and they slam on your thighs, "have you seen your livestreams?"

She holds her hands up, "it wasn't my idea. It was Sam's." You scoff, trying not to laugh, "But you went with it."

"If it makes you feel any better, it'll be just you and me at first. Sam offered for him and Colby to join us once they got back from meeting someone about a place they're going next week. Also. Speaking of. We're going with them."

You groan and turn to look in the mirror, "Fine." You smirk at her in the mirror, "But only because you're going."

"Whatever you say, y/n." She rolls her eyes and laughs, "Now come on. We gotta get going. I tweeted that we'll be on by six and it's almost five thirty."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"Ready?" Kat looks over at you and you fix yourself in the screen of the computer, "Okay, yes now I'm ready."

You lean back in your chair and watch as she starts, waiting for people to join, "Hi guys! How are you?"

"Hey!" You smile and hold up your hand, reading the comments that are starting to flow in, "Oh thanks. Kat actually dressed me tonight. So tell her."

You laugh and look over at her. She smiles, "Yeah, I'll take credit for that because you look.." she licks the tip of her finger and lays it on your arm, "Tsss."

You laugh as she makes a sizzling sound, "I do. I do."

"Alright. So Sam and Colby will be joining us a little later, but for right now. I figured y/n and I could start off with a little game."

"Oh god." You mumble and watch as she puts a bottle of alcohol and two shot glasses on the stand in front of you two, "Oh no." You laugh and look over at her, "What game do you have planned?"

"Just a little.. do or drink." She smirks, "Nothing bad I promise." She pulls out a small box containing cards and opens it, "Alright. You want to go first?"

You sigh, "You know what? I will." You laugh and pull out a card, "Hmm. Okay." You turn to her in your chair and look up at her, "what is one thing.. you dislike about me?"

"Oh gosh." She blinks as she thinks for a moment, "Honestly, I hate the way that you can just roll out of bed and look good."

You smile and bat the air, "Stop it."

She laughs, "I'm serious. You're just that pretty."

"Well thank you." You laugh slightly and motion towards the box, "Pick your poison."

She reaches up, picking one of the cards, "Ooh my god." She giggles and lays the card over her lips. You lean forward, "Oh no. What is it?"

She smirks, "Send 'can't wait to see you' to the last person you texted or drink."

You pull your phone out, and go to your messages, looking at the threads, "The last person I texted was.." you laugh slightly, "Katrina."

"Who is it?" She wheels herself over and leans around to look at your phone, "Oh. You have to. You freaking have to, y/n."

You bite your lip as you tap on Colby's name, Can't wait to see you.

You lean forward after locking your phone and read the comments on the screen, "Sorry guys. That's a secret." You laugh and lean back, looking up at Kat when your phone goes off.

She motions for you to read it and you can't help but laugh, "They said, are you and Kat playing that stupid drinking game?" You shake your head as you type back, maybe, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm excited to see you.

"Y/n. Damn. You're not even drunk yet." Kat looks at you shocked and you shrug, "Oops." You smile and reach up to pull a card, "Name a couple that you think should break up."

Without any hesitation she pours a shot, "I cant pick just one.." she laughs and takes the shot, instantly chasing it with her water, "Oh gross."

She grabs another card and smirks, "Y/n."

You tilt your head, "Kat."

"Out of.. let's say, me, Sam, and Colby, who is your favorite?" She smirks and you sigh, "I know I'm going to hurt feelings with this one.." you pause and look into the camera then back to Kat, "..pour me a shot."

"Are you not going to answer?" She laughs and you shake your head, "No because it'll hurt their feelings when I say you." You laugh and she throws her head back laughing, "Oh my god. That's great."

You read the comments and see that people are debating on whether it's Colby, even from the previous question.

"Oh god." You groan and take your shot, cringing at the taste, "That's so gross."

She leans in, whispering quietly, "We're you going to say Colby?" You smirk and lean back, looking at her as you nod.

"Ha. I know who her favorite is." She says in a sing song-y tone before she laughs, "It's still me."

You laugh and grab a card, "Katrina. Who was the last person that seen you cry?"

"Like, a sad cry or happy cry?" She asks and you shrug, "Just in general I think." She hums, "Probably... Sam, I think. Or you. I'm with you both so much."

"We might as well just live together at this point." You laugh and she nods, "Honestly. Okay.." she grabs a card and clears her throat, "Have you ever been to a strip club?"

"Like working or visiting?" You try to not smile but fail, "I'm joking you guys. Relax. No I haven't ever been to a strip club."

"I can see it." Kat laughs and you gasp, "Hey." She lays a hand on your knee, "If it makes you feel any better you'd definitely have a big client list, and I know who number one would be." She winks and tries not to laugh so she covers her mouth, "I'm sorry."

You laugh, "oh my god. I need more alcohol for this." You get up, "I'm going to get a white claw, do you-"

"Yes." She cuts you off and points, "Please."

You give her a thumbs up, "I'll be right back." You quickly make your way down the steps and into the kitchen. You open the fridge and grab as many white claws as you can carry.

Colby's voice makes you jump, "Thirsty or something?"

"Goddam it, Colby. I didn't hear you guys come in." You laugh slightly and he walks over, offering to help, "I'm heading up there now, I can take some of these for you."

"Okay." You hand him a couple and look up at him, "Thank you." He smirks, "So.. did you mean to text me earl-"

"I have to get back to Kat." You cut him off, "We can talk about this later." You smirk slightly as you walk away and Colby follows you, "Oh we definitely will be talking about a lot later I can guarantee that."

His words make your cheeks red and warm as you walk into the room Sam and Kat are in, "Out of my chair, Golbach."

You kick it and he spins around, "Excuse me?"

You smirk and hand him a drink, "Now move." He laughs and gets up, moving to sit behind Kat in the beanbag chair. Colby next to him, behind you.

You hand Kat her drink and you both crack one open, cheersing before you each take a sip.

"What the hell. You guys are like.. that was so in sync." Sam shakes his head looking between you and Kat.

You laugh, "That's what happens when you're best friends for this long." Kat tilts her drink towards you, "Correct. Okay. Now where were we?"

"My turn to ask you or one of the boys a question." You smirk as you pick up the card, "Ooh. Colby." You spin your chair towards him, hiding the card so he can't see it, "what's the last thing you googled?"

"Oh snap. Um. Can I look?" He asks pulling his phone out and you nod, "Yes, but you have to show us."

His mouth drops slightly before he sighs, "Fine, I have no shame around you guys anyway." He unlocks his phone and laughs, "oh my god. I totally forgot that I even searched this.." he turns his phone around, showing you and Kat, "I googled if dogs can understand me."

Sam laughs loudly, "Are you serious?" He grabs the phone and starts laughing again, "Oh my god, Colby!"

You and Kat are laughing in your chairs and Colby sighs, "It's a valid question, damn." He reaches up between you and Kat, kinda close to you.

You chew on the inside of your lip as you smell his cologne. It's the same one you got him for Christmas a few months ago.

He moves back and sighs, "Alright. Sam. This one is for you." He turns towards Sam, "What is the most embarrassing things you have ever done?"

Sam sighs, "twerking on that cruise."

You and Kat look at each other and laugh, "Oh my god." You look at Sam, "I forgot about that."

Sam chugs some of his drunk, "Yeah, I haven't." He laughs and leans forward, giving Kat a kiss on the cheek as he reaches for a card.

You glance up at the screen, looking at Colby through the camera, and he smiles at you, looking away, "who's it for?"

Sam laughs slightly, "y/n. What's the dirtiest text you ever sent to someone?"

Colby clears his throat, "Yeah, y/n. What's the dirtiest text you've ever sent to someone." He shrugs as he smirks and you lean up, pouring yourself a shot and taking it.

You wash it down with your drink and sigh, "That's for me to know and no one else to find out."

You grab a card, laughing slightly as you look at Kat, "Katrina. If you had to kiss someone who isn't your boyfriend, who would it be?"

She shrugs and laughs slightly, "That's easy."

Sam leans forward, "Oh is it?"

She looks at Sam, laughing as she points to you, "Y/n."

He raises his eyebrows, "Huh. Not where I thought that was going."

"Prove it. Prove it. Prove it." Colby chants quietly behind you guys and you look at him, "Maybe when I'm a little bit more drunk."

He chuckles, "Mhm."

Kat picks up a card, glancing at Sam before taking a deep breath, "y/n. What's your biggest turn off?"

You suck air between your teeth, "Probably insecurity. Like..for example.." you shift around in your seat, "..if I wanted to wear this out to a bar or something, who ever I'm with shouldn't get mad at me for it you know?"

Kat nods, "Oh hell yeah, girl. Like who ever you're with.." she glances to Colby and smirks, "They should know that you're only looking good for them. Not fight with you about it."

"Exactly. Yes." You can feel the alcohol settling in, along with Kat because you're both super giggly.

You pick up a card and read it. You can tell Colby is staring at you, you can feel it.

So you turn to him with a smile, "Colby."

"Y/n." He smiles and tilts his head as he brings his drink up to his lips.

"This is actually an easy one. Take three shots or quit playing." You watch as he nods, "Give me three shots."

One by one, you pour him shots into your shot glass and hand them to him.

"Still got it." He laughs and points, "Hand me a card please." You reach up, grabbing a card and handing it to him.

He leans back, "Kat. What is the biggest secret you kept from your parents growing up?"

She sighs, "oh no." You lean forward, "Oh Katrina. Do tell." You rest your elbow on your knee, chin in your palm and she sighs, "I was somewhere I wasn't supposed to be. I was to be at my friend Lauren's house but we were at a party in some persons basement.. drinking."

You bat the air, "Oh we've all done that."

"Really? You partied when you weren't supposed to?" Colby laughs, "I don't believe that." You roll your eyes and stand up, "Pause. I have to pee."

Kat laughs, "Enjoy your pee."

"You guys are drunk." Sam says, and you can tell he's moving to your chair.

You go to the bathroom, looking at yourself in the mirror. You take a deep breath, but you can't help but giggle as you think about Colby.

His hand around his drink when it really should be around your neck.

His rings pressing against your skin in all the right ways.

His lips, dragging up and down the skin or your neck.

You bite your lip, laughing slightly as you shake your head, pushing the thoughts out to do your business.

Once you're done, you make your way back to the room and take Sam's spot. You sit down, and they all look at you.

"What?" You ask pointing to your drink. Kat hands it to you and she shakes her head, "Nothing. We were just waiting for you." She laughs and hands you a card.

You read your card to yourself, smirking as you look at Colby, "What is your least favorite thing about me?"

Sam gives a low, "Oooh shit."

"Bold." Kat whispers and you can tell she's secretly cheering you on. She crosses her leg over the other, staring intently between you and Colby, "Well? Colby. Are you going to answer or.."

He smirks and shakes his head, "I'll say it. But I'm not saying it for everyone to hear."

Your heart rate picks up as you perk up, unsure if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

"Where's the fun in that?" Sam groans, "Say it. Say it. Say it."

Colby reaches over, grabbing your arm to pull you over to him. You lean into him naturally and he rests his cheek against yours, whispering as quiet as possible, "The only thing I don't like about you, is the fact that you're not mine."

He slowly leans away, smirking at you as you look at him, "Really?"

He nods, "Yeah, it's real annoying, actually."

You look down as you try not to smile, but you fail so you cover it with taking a sip of your drink.

"What did he say?" Kat leans forward, almost falling off her chair but your laughing distracts everyone until Sam yells, "Colby!" He hands him a card, "your turn, brother."

Colby takes it, nodding as he laughs slightly, "this one is for both of the girls."

You and Kat look at each other, "Oh no."

"The girls must take three shots in a row, or quit playing." Colby tosses the card down and looks between you and Kat.

"Give me the glass." You hold your hand out and Colby gently places it in your hand, he still had it from when he took his three.

Sam pours both, you and Kat's shots and you clink the small glasses each time before taking the shots, laughing as you finish the third.

"They're about to be fucked up." Sam laughs and Colby shakes his head, "Yeah, yeah they are." He looks to you, winking as you lean back in the chair, "Kat, you can go."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

At this point, you all are feeling pretty damn good. If you stood up, you feel like you could fall over, but you had no issue moving closer to Colby.

The drunker you got, the more you wanted to be with him. Next to him. Anything.

Kat and Sam are talking, reading the comments and laughing together as you and Colby have a quiet conversation behind them.

"Did you mean what you texted me earlier?" He whispers leaning in and you nod, "yeah..yeah. I did actually." You look up at him with a smile, "if I'm be-"

"Y/n!" Kat yells your name and you look over at her, "What?!"

She laughs, "Tell them.. tell them about when we went to the mall and that lady who walked into us."

Your eyes go wide, "Oh my god." You start to laugh, "We were walking out of the one store and this lady ran into us, started bitching that we needed to watch where we were going and not even ten seconds later, fucking walks right into the one sign." You laugh with Kat, "Fucking smacks her face and spills her coffee all over her white dress. Ah. It was hilarious."

Colby stares at you, smiling as he admires how pretty you are when you laugh, "She sounds like she deserved it."

You look at him, leaning over as you nod, "Oh yeah. Totally deserved it."

Colby leans in, whispering in your ear, "You know you're so pretty when you laugh." He leans back and smiles at you.

You roll your eyes and lean over, laying a hand on his knee as you support your weight to put your lips next to his ear, "I'd look even prettier under you."

You were way past feeling bold.

He laughs slightly, taken aback by what you said, "Really?"

He spoke loud enough to catch Sam and Kat's attention and he looks up at them. You look up at them and start laughing, "Oh my god."

"Wanna share with the rest of the class?" Sam laughs and you shake your head, "No not really."

Colby leans over, resting his head on your shoulder, "We're just having our own little convo back here so mind ya biz." He laughs and you laugh, resting a hand on his head as you lean into him more.

Colby moves his head up to kiss your neck and you giggle, laying a hand on his shoulder.

"Whoooaaaa colbyyyyy!" Sam drags out his yell, "Whoa whoa whoa."

Kat's mouth is open, staring as Colby leans up, "Oh stop it. How can you not look at her."

"Colby." You lean over, "You're drunk."

He leans in, close to your face, "So are you."

"So are we." Kat laughs as she leans forward, resting her head on Sam's leg, "This is so much fun though." She sits up, "We should play a game. Just one more game."

"Ooh, I'm down for another game." You bite your lip and nod, "Whatcha got in mind?"

"Most likely? The person that everyone votes. Drinks." Kat smirks, "Please."

"Only because you're so pretty." Sam reaches over squeezing her chin and she smiles, "Alright. Sam you start."

He chuckles, "Alright.. uhh.. let's see.." he snaps, "who's most likely to accidentally find a portal to another dimension?"

Instantly everyone points to Sam, laughing.

"Wh- oh come on." He groans, "Why me?"

"Because you're always going off on your own when we're doing investigations, Sam." Colby laughs and Sam sighs, taking the shot from Kat, "I walked into that one."

"Yeah, just like you will a portal." You mumble and fall over onto Colby's lap as you laugh.

Sam glares at you and Kat pats his leg, "She said what we're all thinking." She sighs, "Okay. I'll go." She leans back in her chair, "Who's most likely to get a random tattoo on a night out?"

Colby points to you while the rest of you point to him and he scoffs, "What the hell?"

"I honestly think I would, so I'll take a shot with you." You smile and take the glass, holding it up for Kat to pour you and Colby a shot.

He smiles, "Aw how sweet of you."

"You have no idea." You mumble as you cheers him, taking the shot like nothing, "Alright. I'll go." You set your glass down, biting your lip as you think.

You laugh slightly as you sigh, "Who's most likely to have handcuffs in the bedroom." You raise your eyebrows and smirk, "one.. two.. three."

You and Sam point to Colby and Kat and Colby point to Sam.

Sam and Colby look at each other and start laughing. Kat turns to you, "They have matching ones." You look at Colby, "Do you?"

He shrugs, "Maybe." His eyes move to you as his bottom lip pulls between his teeth. You raise an eyebrow, "Mm."

Colby leans back, "Who's most likely to lose their clothes on a night out?" His eyes move to you and everyone is pointing to you.

"Huh!? Why me?" You point to yourself, "I don't lo-"

"Yes you do. Last weekend you lost your coat and one of your shoes." Kat laughs, "I'm not judging but it would be you."

You laugh, "Okay. Okay. That- it was a coat and a shoe." You argue, "But fine. I'll take it."

"When you lose it here at least you'll know where to find it." Sam mumbles and you about spit out your shot, "Shut it, Golbach."

He laughs and shrugs, nodding to Colby, "I'm just saying."

Kat looks at the screen and taps Sam, "They want to know what you said."

"No." You say quickly, "It's fine." You laugh and rest your head back, "who's most likely to have a new ghost up their ass each week." You lift your head and look at Sam, "Hmm?"

"That is so.. that's so not true." He huffs, trying not to laugh. You tilt your head, "Oh yeah? Then why does everyone you do an investigation with say you're the one they'll go for?"

"You know what?" Sam sets his drink down on the desk and turns, staring at you while Colby and Kat are dying with laughter over you and Sam arguing, "Who's most likely to.." he pauses, trying to think of something, but just sighs, "I got nothing."

"Ha! Suck it." You laugh and sigh, "I need to lay down. Those shots are kicking my ass." You stand up, holding onto the back of Kat's chair, "Goodnight party people, y/n is tapping out."

"Night!" Kat yells before yawning, "Yeah I might.. I might be done too."

You walk out, hoping Colby follows you, but you can still hear him talking to Sam and Kat.

You bite your lip, making your way into his room, shutting the door quickly behind you. You turn, eyes scanning over his room as you walk over to his bed, unbuttoning your jeans.

You walk over to his dresser, grabbing one of his shirts and walking over to the bed. You toss it down, stripping down to just your panties before sliding his shirt over your head.

You move the blankets, sitting down and swinging your legs onto the bed before covering up. You move around, getting comfy before you take a selfie and send it to Colby.

You lay your phone down, turning away from the door as you hear footsteps coming closer. His door opens quietly and you bite your lip, not moving.

You feel the bed dip down next to you and you feel a hand lay on your waist, "Whatcha doin' in here, pretty girl?"

You slowly roll over onto your back, "Your bed is comfier than the one in the guest room."

"Is that so?" He brushes hair from your face, "You can sleep here anytime you want."

"I plan on it." You smile as you giggle and he tilts his head, "Yeah?"

You nod, "Oh yeah." You lay a hand on his, slowly dragging it up and down his arm, "So you really weren't the last person I texted.."

He furrows his brows, "Huh?"

"Kat was the last person I texted, but I wanted to text you so I just said you were." You look up at him and he smirks, "you're so pretty."

His thumb brushes against your cheek, "What made you change your mind?"

You let out a sigh, "I'm happy when I think about you. When I'm with you. Talking about you." You shrug, "You make me happy. I was just too stu-"

He cuts you off with his lips on yours.

He leans back slightly, "You're not stupid."

You laugh slightly, "If I wasn't we would have been to-"

"Don't. You had your reasons and now we're here." He turns your head to look at him, "Drunk in my bed.." he kisses your cheek, "Speaking those sober thoughts."

You laugh slightly, laying a hand on his cheek, "Mhm."

He turns his head, kissing the palm of your hand, "You have no idea how many times I've wanted to just come pick you up and bring you to my bed."

You bite your lip, "really?"

"Not even for sex or anything.. I mean, yeah.." he laughs slightly, "I've thought about you in so many ways, but mainly just to be with you. Holding you." His hand slides down your body, slipping under the covers, "Tell me to stop and I will."

"Don't." You say quickly and spread your legs, "Please don't."

He leans in, kissing down your neck, "Tell me what you want, babe."

"You." You whisper and look up at him, "I want you."

He slips his hand into the band of your panties, "I've dreamed of hearing those words."

You whimper slightly as his fingers press down to your clit, "Colby.." you moan quietly as he draws small circles.

"You're all I think about." He gently bites down on your jaw, "I swear, you've taken over my life but in the best way."

You turn your head, crashing your lips onto his, making out slow as he slowly slides his fingers down, dipping them inside of you

You dig your nails into his arm, arching your back as you pull yourself closer to him. You slip your hand down and slip them into his sweats.

He groans lowly as you stroke him, “That feel good?” His voice is low against your lips, “Tell me.”

“So, so good, Colby.” You squeeze his fingers, whimpering as you feel yourself growing closer to the edge, “Fuck..”

“Your sounds are so beautiful.” He leans back, moaning as you swipe your thumb over the head of his cock, watching as your face scrunches and your eyes flutter shut.

“I-I need you..” you whimper, squeezing your hand around his cock, “Please.”

“Let’s just take it slow, babe. We’ll get to that.” He kisses your lips, “I promise.”

You nod, tilting your head back as you moan, “Fuck, fuck.”

“Cum for me, pretty girl.” Colby rests his forehead against your temple, “You’re so close.”

You turn your head, looking over at him. He presses his lips to yours, moaning against them as you continue to slowly stroke his cock, “C-Colby.”

“All about you baby. I’m okay.” He speeds the thrusts of his fingers up, watching as you squirm under him, “Come on, pretty girl. You can do it.”

His words egged you to cum more, “Fuck.” You whimper and the knot that’s been working in your belly snaps.

You gasp, arching your back as your thighs squeeze his arm, “Shit, shit, shit.”

“That’s it, baby girl. That’s it.” Colby whispers as he peppers your face with kisses, slowly pulling his fingers out.

He brings them up to his lips, licking them off with a groan while you watch in awe. He reaches down, slipping your hand from his sweats and lays next to you, pulling you into him.

Your body fit perfectly into his, like you were made for him.

“I just want to lay with you.” He whispers as he twirls your hair, “We can get to that other stuff later.”

You weren’t going to argue with him. You’re just glad you’re there.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Hi hello sorry for the late update. I’ve been super sick lately. I hope you enjoy this!

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

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obsessedwrhys · 3 months

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ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ The Seven x Deadpool!Reader

t/w: loooots of dark humour/jokes, reader is insensitive and an asshole since they're also a supe working at vought, your powers are the exact same as Deadpool (even the skin condition), mention about killing, death, gore, r-pe, n@zis?!?!, alcohol, some intimacy (?). Also reader is gn!!

ᯓ★ here's a version with the boys <3

HOMELANDER

This man hates you so fking much

Has tried to kill you multiple times, he tried lasering you, tearing you in half and even throwing you into the sky but you just always manage to come back like the damn plague

Eventually he gives up trying to kill you and just had to deal with the fact you'll be kept alive... just temporarily though... he's still looking for ways to kill you

However, your powers gave you dozens of advantages when around Homelander.

He can be having a meeting about something serious and everyone would be listening to him due to their fear towards him, then there's you who'd be doing your own thing and just shout out unrelated things like "Donald Trump just blocked me on Twitter!! HAH!! SUCK IT CORNFLACKS!!"

Everyone turning to you with startled expressions while Homelander simply rolls his eyes before continuing his presentation.

You are a complete nightmare to the PR team, that's why for interviews or any events, you'll always be paired up with Homelander so he can keep you under control and stop you from saying weird shit that could ruin the company's image.

"So Deadpool, how does it feel being in the Seven working alongside Homelander? You've been working together for almost 3 years now" A reporter would ask as you two are surrounded by screaming fans.

"Like I'm in the twilight series, not because of the fantasy but because I'm still waiting for the part where he impregnates me—"

"O-kay! That's enough, just silly ol' Deadpool with those inside jokes"

"You can tell in this eyes that he wants to fuck me right now. HE'S GONNA FUCK ME!!" You shouted as you're being dragged away by him.

Obviously when you had found out about his relationship with Stormfront, especially her background, you had to say some shit about it. Not giving the slightest care about the fact he could be grieving over her death.

He'll be in his room standing in front of the window and you'd just storm in, being as loud as possible.

"I can't believe you dated a N@zi!! Is it because I'm Jewish?!" Which may or may not be true, nobody knows your origin.

He may hate your guts but if he ever needs someone to help him do some dirty work, you're the person for the job, you never ask why or how, which could be the only thing he likes about you.

"Y'know, maybe if you didn't have such a big mouth, you'd be tolerable"

"All the people I've slept with have said otherwise"

Compatibility? 50%

STARLIGHT

Before she joined the Seven, she had an image of what kind of person you were, she just didn't know it was this worse.

When you found out she used to work at this Sunday School Church, you just haaaaad to say something about it.

"So like, you say that prayer always works, but every night I pray for my hair to grow and it never does. Do you think God has me blocked? How do I get unblock?"

"Uh..."

You two surprisingly get along without one wanting to slice the other's throat, except sometimes the things you say can really piss her off. Which is why when the company assigned her a new costume, she was trying her hardest to avoid you, but you found out anyways.

"Holy shit Starlight! Nice costume, is this your Miley Cyrus breakthrough? Girl power!"

Insert her groaning out of annoyance.

Again, the second you discovered she was dating a guy behind the death of Translucent, you were heartbroken :(

"Of course this happens right when my therapist gives up on me!"

Despite your behaviour, you pitied her when it was revealed that she was taken advantage of by The Deep, so like any good friend, you took revenge by cooking his friend octopus and eating it happily in front of him.

"Revenge does taste sweet" You'd say happily while Starlight just watches by the side, both grateful and horrified at your actions.

In my opinion, you would definitely be the person she goes to once she starts working with the boys, you'll always be providing whatever information that happens in the company for her to use.

It helps her worry less about getting anyone killed 'cause you literally can't die.

Compatibility? 60%

QUEEN MAEVE

You're half the reason why she rethinks about her life choices when she wakes up in the morning

Not because you're a handful (which you are) but because you're always paired together on missions

"Deadpool! The hostages!"

"OKAY! God... you act just like my drunk uncle"

Which is a joke/nickname you like to address her by because of her alcoholism (yikes)

Whenever the company needs you for something, half of the time she's the one assigned to search for you.

There was this one time she caught you trying to have Anika track down Kanye West's location, nobody knows what shenanigans you were up to.

Another thing to mention was that you two were chosen by the company to sing a Christmas song for the year's Christmas ceremony.

Just imagine during the bridge of the song, she's singing normally while you're completely going off, your high note so high you were sure you had Mariah Carey a run for her money.

Even though she finds you a lot to deal with, you're actually her buddy to train with.

Since you're very skilled with Katanas, she likes to practice her swordsmanship with you.

You like to tease or make fun of her everytime she fails to strike you which is good motivation for her to get better. Maybe you guys bring out the best of each other?

Last thing I'd like to add is when she was found out by the public that she was a lesbian (She's bi but you get the running joke), you had gifted her a t-shirt that says, 'Biggest Dick in Town'

Compatibility? 80%

THE DEEP

Your human punching bag

If Vought was a high school instead of a company, you'd be the bully and he'd be the nerd getting stuffed inside the locker room.

For example, Homelander could be confronting Starlight about her relationship with Hughie and everyone would just start raising their voices til you come in yelling "SHUT UP!" to the Deep who had not said a single thing during the entire time.

Just imagine him staring at you like 😐

To be honest you also ate his friend octopus so you guys are actually never getting the chance to make up.

"Look dude, I don't appreciate your tone"

"I don't appreciate your haircut either but we can't all get what we want"

You may be a crazy person but you weren't going to be okay with the fact he violates every woman he sees, so not only did you cook the octopus but you also called in a male stripper disguised as a woman just for him to celebrate on his birthday.

Just imagine him all happy when you tell him the news and later that night he'll run inside your room, completely pissed off at your act after finding out but you just laughed and said.

"Happy April Fools 😚!"

"That's next month dipshit!"

Also, you never understood his weird fantasies. He has a thing for sea animals??You've caught him multiple times either flirting or getting off to one. It was concerning even for you.

"From how many animals you've fucked, you might just turn from the ocean's 'Seaman' to 'Semen'." You joked which he did not find funny.

Maybe you messing with him could just be your way of getting along with him since you're the same with everybody else, it's just he has more flaws to poke fun of and he's sensitive about them.

Compatibility? 5%

A-Train

He thinks you're fucked up in the head.

Half of the shit that comes out of your mouth just has him reacting like in the GIF

Buuuuuut you're the one he always brings to the club because you always know ways to give the party life.

You've somehow even got on the wall of fame, a lovely portrait of you with your hands making out a heart.

Also, you know about his business with Compound V waaaaay before anyone else did. He's still grateful you didn't tell anyone.

Just like everyone else, you also enjoy messing with him except he's fast and constantly avoiding you.

"Hey A-Train, how much do you wanna bet that I can die faster than you?"

"Dude... seriously?"

You guys rarely get sent on missions together because you're always slowing him down, not basing off the fact he's fast but because you get easily sidetracked with other things.

"Alright, we're here now, how much C4 do we use?"

"Fuck math! Let's use all of 'em!"

You ended up detonating all of the C4 on you before he could object the idea, he was able to run out in time, your action nearly getting him killed while you ended up dead.

But it's fine you'll just grow back.

You know that race he has against Shockwave? You'd be at the VIP section standing near where Homelander and Queen Maeve is, waving your huge banner that has a picture of A-Train's face and yours pasted over a figure carrying the other in bridal style.

Compatibility? 55%

TRANSLUCENT

He makes people paranoid but you make him disgusted.

There was this one time he was bored so he snuck in your room to see what you were doing.

At first he was confused why you had so many cute plushies but then the more he explored your room, he realised your room is basically every collector's dream.

You even had a huge teddy bear in the corner of your dressing room.

The reason why he doesn't like to spy on you is because the last time he did, he saw you putting your hand in the blender, then proceeding to put your private part into it.

Never again, he thought, never again.

He doesn't need to witness you carry out your intrusive thoughts.

Surprising enough, you're close with his son, I'd like to think that after his death, you practically became the kid's godparent. Though you can be sort of a bad influence, leading up to how he is in Gen V.

You always tell him you hate kids but he thinks otherwise.

After all, he can read people well.

You guys like to pull pranks on each other since you guys like competing on who's more sneaky

There was this one time, you woke up to find your suit gone so you ended up walking around the building, completely naked and unfazed by people's stares.

It was when you walked around the corner that you found your suit worn by someone else, turns out it was Translucent under it.

"Why is it so fucking tight dude? How do you stay in this shit all day?"

"You get used to it"

Compatibility? 85%

BLACK NOIR

Lovers.

He doesn't mind your attitude because he actually can't say anything about it.

No seriously... he can't talk.

But hey he's got a good shoulder to cry on.

"I just... hffgh... I can't believe my album didn't surpass lady gaga's... She doesn't even know how to use Katanas like I do!" You'd let out a loud sob while he just stares at you for a while before placing a hand on your shoulder, patting you gently.

You know the scene where he's playing the piano for one of the company's party? You'll be laying down on top of it and singing in your usual overdramatic high pitched voice.

He finds your humour amusing so he always does this little head tilt like in the GIF when you say some weird shit while waiting for his response.

Since both of you are the only members of the Seven that wears a full body suit, obviously you had to try on his but since it was impossible to achieve that, you just had the company make a copy for you.

He'll be walking down the hallway doing his normal routine until he notises another person in his suit, the moment you speak and he realises its just you is when he let's his guard down.

"I just got some transplants done to my ass, that's why I look different"

You both are never sent on missions together 'cause you guys don't work well, pretty much nobody works well with him since he's the silent type.

Example, you two were hiding behind some crates ready to jump on the bad guys who were snucking in illegal drugs. He gestured for you to wait as he went to check again, only to turn back to see you gone.

"Marry Christmas motherfuckers!"

He heard your voice shout and he found you standing on top of the stacked crates, machine gun in hand and began shooting aimlessly.

He didn't even do anything but just watch until you ran out of bullets. However, multiple survived and began shooting at you so you ended running towards where he's hiding at.

"Yankee yankee!" You yelped.

You know the video of the two girls taking off their wigs to reveal that they're bald and they start bonding over it? I'd like to imagine that's you and Black Noir with the skin condition under the suits.

One more scenario I wanna add, you guys could be having a meeting but since you were bored and you always hated meetings, you'd draw a big heart on a piece of paper and show it to Black Noir from across the table. Surprisingly he'd draw a heart back to you.

You were overjoyed so you began to draw you and him doing it, doggy style. He stares at your doodle for a while before choosing to just focus on the meeting instead.

Compatibility? 90%

(This took a while cause I was on vacation)

2K notes · View notes

13lov · 8 months

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tethered pt. 2 | jjk

✰ pairing. — emo!jk x reader

✰ genre. — early 2000s au, best friend's older brother, childhood friends to lovers, smut, light angst.

✰ word count. — 10k+

✰ warnings. — swearing, family issues, friendship betrayal, mention of drugs/alcohol, smut [ cunnilingus, rough sex, ...idk how else to describe it ] reader and jk are both 18+, minors dni.

✰ a/n. long awaited part 2! the amount of love i received from part one was overwhelming and it means to world to meet that so many people instantly fell in love with this couple. another part is already in the works!

✰ taglist. @ahgasegotarmy116 @hellbornsworld @kissyfacekoo @littlestarstinyseven @skzthinker @cuntessaiii @nikkiordonez12 @ilikekpop-c @busanbby-jjk @xjjk187 @aloverga @kookcobain @mzeji @bxcndd @hoseokteardrop @canyon-lwt @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @jksteponme @parkinglot-nights @chromekingkong @jk97bam [ if i didn't tag u it's because tumblr didn't allow me to! ]

part one | masterlist | ao3 | buy me a coffee?

“Did you seriously think I wouldn’t find out?” Somi is glaring daggers at you upon opening the front door, arms crossed across her chest as she eyes you. Her lips are twisted into a disgusted snarl, you’ve never seen her this upset before.

You swallow the lump in your throat, “Find out about what?”

She cocks her head to the side, squinting her eyes at you. “Don’t act like you don’t know.”

Fuck, you’re screwed. If there were a list of all the reasons why you shouldn’t have had sex with Jeon Jungkook, the simple fact of him being your best friend’s brother would be number one.

With closed eyes, you let out a relieved sigh. As much as you wanted to wait to tell Somi about hooking up with Jungkook, it’d be an enormous weight off your shoulders not having to hide it any longer. It’d only been a few days since it happened, but you really hate keeping secrets from her.

“How’d you find out?” You question, chewing on your bottom lip.

“My parents told me, duh.”

Holy crap, Jungkook told his parents the two of you had sex? Why the fuck would he do that?

“They did?” You ask, completely bewildered.

“Well, yeah!” Somi finally uncrosses her arms, demeanor completely changing as her gaze softens, “Why didn’t you tell me your sister got engaged?”

Thank God you didn’t elaborate any further.

“Oh! Because they probably aren’t gonna last.” You respond, stepping into the Jeon household once Somi allows you to enter. It’s been a few days since you’ve been here, mostly due to the fact that you were completely avoiding Jungkook.

The empty condom in his trash bin had been plaguing your mind nonstop, you could barely even sleep from how embarrassed you were. Why did he fake his orgasm? What if he didn't fake an orgasm and just shot a blank? Did you do something wrong? Was he not attracted to you? Why was the condom empty?

Seeing him in person would’ve only intensified the thoughts roaming in your head, so you avoided him at all costs up until now. You’d promised the Jeon siblings that you’d finally see Twilight with them and their friends despite not being able to function correctly around either of them.

Somi snickers, following you into the living room. “Ooh, that’s not nice.”

“It’s true, though,” you explain, “she’s still so young, only a few years older than your brother. I mean, can you picture Jungkook getting married in a few years?”

The regret from that question fills you almost immediately.

“Sure,” Somi responds, pausing to greet the eager doberman charging at her. “As long as he finds the right person. He’d get married in a heartbeat.”

You want to ask what Somi’s definition of “the perfect person” would be for Jungkook or the type of girl she’d be willing to set him up with. It’d probably be the unnamed, mysterious redhead you recently dreamed about curb stomping (yikes!).

You don’t respond to this, taking a seat on the sofa when the sudden shout of your name has you flinching. It’s Somi’s parents, excitedly greeting you with open arms as you politely stand to properly hug them. “I feel like it’s been so long since we’ve seen you! How’s your family? We just heard the news about your sister!” Mrs. Jeon ambushes you with questions, all while cradling your face.

“About how she’s making the biggest mistake of her life?” You half-joke.

Mrs. Jeon playfully waves a hand in your direction as she steps into the kitchen, her husband only a few feet behind. “Oh, don’t say that. I’m sure the two of them will be very happy together.” She turns to her husband, grabbing his hand, “I just can’t believe Imogen is getting married. I still remember when she first started high school.”

Mr. Jeon sighs in disbelief. “I know,” he mumbles, nodding at you. “You’re up next soon, huh?”

“Maybe she can marry Jungkook,” Mrs. Jeon comments, opening her fridge, “set him straight.”

“Gross, Mom. Don’t wish that on her.” Somi groans in disgust as she plops down next to you.

Well, that answers your previous question.

“We should probably get going, right? To make it in time for the trailers?” You ask.

“Yeah, we should.” Somi responds, tilting her head up towards the staircase, “Jungkook! Hurry up and come downstairs! We’re ready to go!”

“Gimmie a minute!” He shouts back, and a chill runs down your spine. It’s been too long since you’ve heard his voice. The last time you saw him, he was lying naked in his bed; you’re not sure how you’ll survive being around him all night knowing what your last encounter was like.

As promised, Jungkook is sliding down the staircase a minute later and nails the landing. He’s wearing a black Twilight shirt featuring the leading couple, black cargo pants, and, of course, black sneakers. He looks like his usual self until you take a closer look and notice the reddish-black eyeshadow that decorated his eyes. It wasn’t much, just enough to make his eyes pop, and it complimented him perfectly. A second later, you see the black nail polish neatly coated on his nails. You have to blink a few times to ensure this is real life and you’re not trapped in a wet dream.

He strolls into the kitchen, ignoring the stares from his parents before digging through the fridge. His mom clears her throat, crossing her arms at him.

“What?” He asks, retrieving a two-liter Mountain Dew bottle.

“Seriously, Jungkook? The makeup? The nail polish?” She questions, clearly frustrated.

Jungkook cocks his head, unscrewing the soda bottle’s lid. “What’s wrong with it? Somi’s wearing the same thing.”

“Son, you know that’s different.” His father interjects.

Jungkook takes a swig of the soda before responding. “Why? Because she’s a girl?”

“It’s not like that, hon. It’s just…we didn’t make a big deal of it when you first started the piercings, and the tattoos, and the hair dye, but this…it’s a little much. Don’t you think?” His mother asks.

You want to step in and remind his parents that Jungkook is old enough to make his own decisions and express himself as he pleases, but it’s not your place. Instead, you cheer silently when Somi surprisingly interrupts the discussion. “Did you guys seriously force him to come back home just to criticize how he presents himself, or would you rather have a peaceful summer?”

“We aren’t trying to criticize him, Somi. We’re just looking out for our child.” Mr. Jeon responds.

“It’s a special occasion, Dad. Is it bad that I wanted to look nice for—” Jungkook abruptly cuts himself short, quickly glancing in your direction before returning his attention to his parents. “...to go see Twilight with my friends?”

What was that about?

Silence passes, and the three stare at each other until Mrs. Jeon sighs defeatedly and says, “No, there’s nothing wrong with that, sweetheart. I hope you guys enjoy the movie.”

“We will,” Jungkook responds, closing the soda bottle lid and placing it back in the fridge. He heads for the front door, beckoning you and Somi to follow behind. He’s eager to leave the house, quickly swinging the front door open and jogging towards his car.

You and Somi say goodbye to her parents with a promise to be home by eleven before following in Jungkook’s footsteps, who already has the car running. As you wait for Somi to finish locking the front door, Jungkook rolls down his window and shouts, “Hurry up! Let’s go!”

“Will you calm down?!” Somi throws back, rolling her eyes as she finally removes the house key from the lock.

You follow her towards Jungkook’s car, sliding into the backseat as you pretend not to notice Jungkook watching you through the rearview mirror. He wants you to look at him, but you refuse, busying yourself by buckling your seatbelt and convincing Somi to do the same. Once Jungkook is convinced you’re not going to do so much as glance at him, he puts the car in drive and pulls into the road.

Somi talks your ear off in the backseat about whatever comes to mind while you keep your eyes on the window. It’s hard to not notice Jungkook glancing back at you through the mirror at every red light or stop sign, but you don’t dare meet his gaze.

The movie theater’s parking lot is crowded when you arrive; it takes Jungkook a few minutes to eventually locate a spot. A smile is plastered on his face as he parks the car, eager to see some of his closest friends after being separated for months. He informs you and Somi to disregard anything foolish he friends may say, claiming they arrived early to smoke behind the movie theater, so they’re more than likely too high to function properly.

Jungkook shrugs when Somi asks why people do that, shoving his hands into his pockets as the three of you approach the theater entrance. "Some people say it makes the movie experience better."

You want to ask Jungkook if he's ever been high, but you can barely even bring yourself to look in his direction, let alone ask him a question. So you're silent as the three of you enter the movie theater, instantly spotting Jungkook's bandmates in the far corner.

Well… Jungkook's bandmates and one other guest.

The bubbly redhead greets you guys first, running up to Jungkook with open arms as if they haven't seen each other in a million years. It makes you want to vomit.

You look away as they hug, directing your attention to the concession stand employee who had already been watching you. His name tag reads 'Beomgyu,' and he resembles a younger version of Jungkook, with the same dark hair and similar lip piercings. His eyes stay on you until a customer blocks your path, and you're back to watching Jungkook reunite with his friends.

"Hey, you were the one at that party, right? With Somi?" The redhead asks, squinting her eyes at you.

"Yeah." Is all you respond with, because why in God's name is this girl talking to you right now?

"It's nice to meet you. I'm Scar," she introduces herself, extending a hand for you to shake.

Somi interjects, grabbing ahold of your wrist while glaring at Scar. "Your name is Scarlett."

She drags you along to the ticket booth, mumbling about how she doesn't like nor trust Scar. When you ask for her reasoning, she responds with, "I don't need one. I just don't like her."

At least you're on the same page about that.

Still, you can't help but wonder why Somi has a distaste for Scar. You have your petty reasoning for disliking her, but Somi (more than likely) has better knowledge of Scar's personality, so whatever reasons she dislikes her could be legitimate.

You're thinking of this as Jungkook orders the tickets for everyone, asking the employee to give him a minute when the friend you recognize as Yugyeom starts tapping his shoulder. "We should go see Saw instead; it just came out."

Jungkook looks genuinely confused at the suggestion. "What? No, we came here to see Twilight."

"So?!" Jaebeom chimes in, eyes red as the devil, "Come on, dude, you've already seen Twilight. Don't you wanna see something new?"

"Fuck no, we're literally in the middle of buying the tickets." Jungkook reminds everyone.

"I kinda wanna see Saw, too."

"Same."

"Yeah, me too."

"I do, too."

Jungkook whips his head around at his sister, "What? Even you?"

Somi scoffs, "Well, yeah! Twilight just seems boring in comparison."

"Come on, guys," the employee interrupts, "you're holding up the line."

Jungkook turns towards you. "Do you still wanna see Twilight?"

Truthfully, you want to go home; but seeing how excited Jungkook was for the movie made you feel something, so you nod. He lets out a relieved sigh.

He moves out of the way to allow his friends to buy their tickets first, slipping his sister cash to pay for hers, which she initially rejects. "I don't need your money," she claims.

"Just take it, Somi. I brought it for you."

From what you can make out, it's enough to cover her ticket and grab something from the concession stand. The pair of siblings may bicker a lot, but it's nice to know Jungkook still looks out for his younger sister whenever he can.

Somi reluctantly accepts the money and purchases her ticket; you watch as Jungkook follows suit, ordering two tickets for Twilight and stopping you from opening your purse. "Don't worry about it."

"Oh, it's fine. I have enough." You reassure him.

Jungkook laughs to himself, "Why are the two of you like this?" He questions, fishing out crumpled dollar bills from his pocket and handing them to the cashier, who sighs in annoyance, straightening and inspecting each bill before placing it in his register.

You don't know why Jungkook insists on being so nice to you despite your persistence in not speaking to him. A part of you wonders if he thinks this is some kind of date now that the two of you will be separated from the group. It doesn't matter. You don't know why you're overthinking it.

Once all the tickets have been purchased, the seven of you head towards the concession stand. Somi debates pushing herself to the front of the long line, claiming that the theater should make accommodations for those whose movie is starting sooner. Or something like that, you can't really focus with the way Beomgyu is staring at you. You're used to guys always staring, but they tend to shyly look away upon making eye contact.

Beomgyu is quite the opposite, staring you down every chance he gets. Your skin feels hot, and you're suddenly anxious under his gaze.

When the group ahead of you has finished ordering and is heading off into their theater, you're sure to stick close to Jungkook as you approach the counter. Beomgyu eyes him over once before returning his gaze to you. "What can I get for you guys?"

Jungkook takes the liberty of ordering a large popcorn for the two of you to share and doesn't even get mad when you request a slushie instead of a fountain drink. He doesn't let you pay, swatting your hand away when you absentmindedly reach for your purse. "You seriously have to stop doing that." He mumbles, handing Beomgyu the cash.

Beomgyu quickly prepares the popcorn and Jungkook's drink but takes his time making your slushie. He's sure to fill it to the brim, and you're worried it may accidentally overflow and leave a sticky mess. "You didn't want candy or anything?" He questions, handing you your drink.

You shrug, "Maybe Twizzlers, but—"

Before you can finish, Beomgyu is reaching under the counter and sliding you a pack of Twizzlers. "On me."

"Oh, are you sure?" You ask, hesitant to accept the free candy.

Beomgyu sends Jungkook a cocky smirk before he responds, "Yeah, enjoy the movie."

You thank Beomgyu and pretend to not notice the death glares the two boys are sending one another before walking with Jungkook to your theater. "That guy was weird." He comments.

"Yeah." You agree, but it's definitely not true. Beomgyu was friendly and clearly interested in you, unlike Jungkook, who sent you nonstop, draining mixed signals. If his definition of weird is someone straightforward, then you should start going after weirdos.

Once you're settled in your seats in the back of the theater — per Jungkook's request — he clears his throat and says, "So, I tried messaging you on Facebook. Didn't get anything back."

"Oh, sorry. I haven't been using Facebook that much." You reply, hoping your lame excuse is believable enough.

He nods, eyes bouncing between you and the movie trailers playing in the background. "Yeah, I figured." He says. When you don't respond, he continues, "I would've asked Somi for your number, but I didn't want her to get suspicious or anything."

"That's smart." You admit, nodding in agreement.

"Are you okay?" Jungkook asks suddenly, his full attention to you.

You finally make eye contact, and the expression on his face makes your heart sink. He looks genuinely concerned and confused by your sudden coldness. You hate being so mean to him, but you're too embarrassed to explain the real reason why you've been avoiding him. So you nod and say, "Just a little tired."

It's clear he doesn't believe this; the same expression is still on his face as he refocuses on the movie trailers.

You hate how awkward it feels to be around him now. Never in a million years would you have guessed the two of you would end up like this. A week ago, you would've been overjoyed at the idea of being on a movie date with Jungkook, and now you're considering leaving early and catching a taxi home.

The two of you remain silent as the rest of the trailers play on, and Jungkook immediately sits up in his seat when the lights finally dim and the curtains are pulled back further. He's reticent throughout the movie, aside from a muffled chuckle occasionally; he even side-eyes anyone making too much noise.

You enjoy Twilight nonetheless, agreeing with Jungkook that you do, in fact, dress like Bella Swan from time to time. When he asks if you liked it as you're exiting the theater, you tell him it was very nice and that you hope there'll be another movie.

Jungkook smiles at this, tossing his empty cup in a nearby trash bin. "I'm sure there will be. Maybe they'll even cast you as Bella's stunt double since you already have the clothes."

"Shut up." You tease, and it feels nice to joke with him as usual. You may finally have the courage to tell Jungkook why you've been so distant these past few days.

Saw doesn't get out for another few minutes, so you're stuck waiting in the lobby for Somi and everyone else. Jungkook gestures towards the nearly empty slushie cup clutched in your hands, "You get free refills on that, I think."

You take his word, strolling over to the concession stand. Beomgyu spots you immediately and gestures for you to skip around the line. You shake your head, but he still beckons for you to come over. You feel bad, but the line has gotten longer since you were first here, and you really don't want to wait in a long line just for a refill.

"What flavor?" He asks once you've slid him your cup.

You tell him anything is fine and he gets to work, combining the cherry and blue raspberry flavors. "How was the movie?"

"It was good. The vampire stuff was cool."

"Have you seen Saw yet? It just came out."

"No, I haven't."

"It's so good; if you wanna give me your number, maybe we can see it together sometime."

What is it with guys offering to take you out to a movie they've already seen? You're not complaining; it's just odd.

Beomgyu is clearly interested in you and has offered to take you out. You'd be silly to pass up on this guy just because your current relationship with your longtime crush is at a standstill. So you accept, scribbling your phone number down on a napkin with your name underneath. He promises to call you once his shift ends and that he looks forward to seeing you.

When you turn to meet up with Jungkook, he's gone. You catch him storming out of the theater, hauling ass to his car.

You run to catch up to him, calling out his name and begging him to slow down.

When he finally does stop, there's a look on his face that you've never seen before. He gets angry all the time, but this was something completely different. "So you were just using me, huh?"

What? What is he talking about?

"Using you for what?"

"To lose your virginity. You just wanted to get it over with, right?" His voice is slightly hushed now but still loud enough for you to feel embarrassed about anyone passing through the parking lot.

"Jungkook, what are you talking about?"

"You used me to lose your virginity, so when you date other guys you can tell them you've had sex before. Is that what this is?"

This accusation hurts, considering that Jungkook was the only guy you've ever been interested in romantically and sexually. You don't know where this theory originated, but you don't like it.

Jungkook continues before you respond, "I tried reaching out and talking to you, and you just blew me off! And yet, here you are, giving your number to random guys! Am I not good enough for you?!"

"It's not like that, Jungkook!" You don't mean to raise your voice at him, but you can't help it. Both of your emotions were at an all-time high.

"Then what is it like?!"

Here goes nothing.

There are already tears forming as you go to explain yourself. "I didn't reach out to you because…because I was embarrassed."

"You were embarrassed to have sex with me?"

"No!" You yell in reassurance, "No, no, no. Of course not. I was embarrassed because I know you didn't finish. I just thought maybe I did something wrong or didn't do enough."

Jungkook quirks a brow at you, "What makes you think I didn't finish?"

You really hate that he's making you explain this. "I saw the condom afterwards; it was empty."

"You went digging in my trash can to find the condom?" Now he looks more disgusted than confused; this is going so horribly.

"No! I saw it when I went to get my phone off the charger."

Jungkook takes a minute to process everything, scratching his chin in deep thought. You can't tell what he's feeling, but he does look hurt. It makes you regret avoiding him in the first place.

"So, you were prepared to never talk to me again over an empty condom?" Despite his stern demeanor, he's clearly shaking as he questions you.

You want to say no, that it wasn't a case, but you can't bring yourself to lie to him again. So you say nothing. Jungkook nods at your lack of response before turning around and walking towards his car. You remain still, frozen in place, watching as he sits on the hood of his car and smokes a cigarette.

If it weren't for Somi finishing her movie within the next few minutes, you would've walked the entire way home.

This bitch is driving you crazy.

Your older sister, Imogen, is home for a few days to start her wedding preparations. The fake bridezilla persona she's putting on bothers you the most, bursting out in tears at the most inconvenient times or having a breakdown about selecting a theme. Deep down, she doesn't care about any of this bullshit; she's like you about parties or big events.

"This is literally the biggest day of my life, and you're being so fucking difficult." Imogen snarls at you, pouring herself a cup of coffee. You're sitting a few feet away on the kitchen counter, staring out the kitchen window. Despite Imogen's occasional yelling and snarky comments, all you can think of is Jungkook.

It's been an entire week since the movie theater incident. You haven't stopped by the Jeon household not once, telling Somi you fell ill and don't want to get her sick. It's another lame excuse, but she buys it, opting to talk to you on the phone daily until you recover.

You have yet to speak to Jungkook; it's not like you've tried. The idea of messaging him on Facebook and not receiving a response makes you anxious. It's hard to believe you subjected him to the same torture not long ago. It doesn't help that Scarlett is suddenly all over his page, commenting on nearly every one of his posts, writing on his wall, or tagging him in pictures. Your recurring dream of curb-stomping her is back in full force.

You sigh at your sister, "Whatever you say, Imogen."

She waves dismissively at you, "Please, don't even talk to me right now."

You hop off the counter in annoyance and stomp off towards the staircase, mumbling, "Fucking drama queen."

"Language." Your mom warns you, flipping through one of the several bridal magazines your sister has stacked on the coffee table.

Imogen scoffs, setting her mug on the counter. "I'm the drama queen? Whenever I talk about my wedding, you throw a fucking fit!"

"Why are you pretending to care about this stupid wedding and that stupid boy you barely even know?!" You shout back from the staircase.

"If my wedding is so stupid, then don't come!"

"I don't even want to go to your stupid wedding, with your stupid fiancé and your stupid red velvet cake that no one's going to fucking eat!"

This is probably the dumbest fight you've ever had.

Imogen doesn't respond to this, advised by your mother not to and to let you stomp up the stairs in a furious rage. You make a beeline straight to your desktop, waking up the computer with a mouse shake and entering your password.

Facebook is already open once you've signed in, Jungkook's page staring right back at you. You're ashamed to admit you'd been cyberstalking him, but you had no choice. Seeing him in person would've been too much, but you still want to ensure he's doing okay.

There's a new post up when you refresh the page; you chew on your bottom lip as you anxiously wait for it to finish loading.

It's a picture of his dirty Chuck Taylor's perched upon a wooden stool. You recognize the background immediately; he's in the treehouse in his backyard. You and Somi would spend hours up there as kids, giving each other manicures and exchanging secrets; now, you can barely look her in the eye without bursting out in tears. You hate how complicated things have become.

A light tap against your door has you swiveling around in your chair. It's Imogen, leaning against your doorframe with her arms crossed. "Who's that?"

"Somi's brother." You respond, scrolling to a photo that actually shows his face.

Imogen steps further into your bedroom, squinting her eyes at the computer screen. "Oh, yeah. Hasn't changed much, has he?" When you remain silent, she asks, "Would it be wrong of me to assume he's the real reason why you're so upset?"

You sigh, letting your shoulders drop. "You'd be very correct, actually."

She nods in understanding, sitting on the edge of your bed. "So, what's going on? You like him?"

"We kind of like each other, I guess." You mumble. Honestly, you're not quite sure how Jungkook feels about you at the moment.

"And Somi doesn't approve of it?"

You snort, "Somi doesn't know. There was nothing to tell her at first, but things have changed."

"Are you guys dating?"

"No. We actually haven't talked in a week. I may have hurt his feelings."

Imogen nods towards your desktop, “Where is he now?”

You shrug, “Home, I guess.”

She stands, stretching out her limbs. She glances around your room, locates a jacket dangling lifelessly from your doorknob, and tosses it to you. “Let’s go.”

Taking an impromptu trip to the Jeon household had you sweating. What if Jungkook doesn’t even want to see you? What if Somi catches you talking and asks what’s going on?

Each concern you raise is instantly shot down by Imogen, claiming you’re creating excuses to avoid seeing him, how you’re only imagining the worst possible scenarios. You appreciate her overwhelming support but can’t help the nervousness creeping through your body as her car approaches the Jeon household.

“Remember, be apologetic but not desperate,” Imogen informs you, putting her car in park in front of the house.

“I am desperate.” You remind her.

“Well, don’t let him see it. You got this.”

You thank your sister one last time for the advice before stepping out of her car. You’re careful to avoid being seen from windows as you make your way into the backyard; not entirely sure what you’d say if Somi were to catch you.

You scale the tree quickly, silently praying the old wooden steps are stable enough to hold your weight.

You sigh in relief once you’ve reached the top, only to groan at the sight of Scarlett sitting across from you. She looks up from her iPod with a bright smile, quickly pulling out her earbuds as you enter the treehouse. “Hey, stranger! Watcha doing here?”

Her enthusiasm really makes you sick. “Came to see Jungkook,” you pause to glance around the tiny, wooden deathtrap, “but he’s nowhere to be found.”

“He’ll be back soon; went to use the bathroom,” Scarlett informs you, running her hands through her hair. “So, you guys really like each other, huh?”

What? She knows about that?

“Jungkook told you?” You question, trying your best to appear unbothered. You’re unsure where she’s going with this, but you have no reason to trust her.

Scarlett nods, “We tell each other everything. So when he told me you guys weren’t talking, I may have devised a plan to help you come around. You do use Facebook, right?” She smirks

Holy shit, all the posts of them together were to make you feel jealous enough to have a conversation with him; and your sworn enemy was the mastermind behind it. It was all a ploy to get under your skin, and you fell right into the trap.

“You’re a stubborn little thing, though. Didn’t think it’d take you so long.” She comments, slipping her jacket on.

You shrug, “I didn’t think he’d want to talk to me.”

“Jungkook always wants to talk to you. I don’t mind it, though. You seem good for him.”

Aside from Somi, Scarlett is probably the last person you would’ve expected to be supportive of your relationship with Jungkook. So, to hear she’d been secretly rooting for you behind the scenes nearly gives you whiplash. You almost feel wrong about your dreams of shoving her face into the pavement.

You tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “So, nothing is going on between you guys?”

Scarlett grimaces as if you deeply offended her, “Of course not! Don’t get me wrong, he’s cute, but not my type. His sister is cute, though.”

Woah.

“Somi? Jeon Somi? You’re into her?” You ask, completely stunned.

“Hell, yes. Hey, do you think you could set us up? Jungkook would never.”

“You do know that Somi can’t stand you, right?”

Scarlett excitedly nods, “I know, it’s kind of a turn-on.”

You hold your hands out to stop her from elaborating any further. Scarlett has surprised you in more ways than one in less than five minutes. You’re sure any new information would’ve made your head explode.

“I’ll…try my best.” You promise; not quite sure how Somi would feel about the idea of Scarlett liking her.

“For what?” A voice interrupts, causing you and Scarlett to direct your attention to the treehouse’s entrance. And there he is, in all his gothic glory.

“Girl talk, none of your business,” Scarlett responds, making room for Jungkook to crawl in.

“Fine. You keep your secrets; I’ll keep mine.” Jungkook groans, sitting between the two of you.

“Will do. I’m outta here. Got a hot date with a box of hair dye. See you suckers later.” Scarlett waves goodbye as she exits the treehouse, reminding you of your promise before disappearing down the steps.

Jungkook clears his throat, sweeping his hair away from his eyes. "So—"

"I'm sorry," you cut him off, "I should've reached out and talked to you, but I was just too embarrassed and didn't know how to approach you about it. I really like you, and I wasn't using you to lose my virginity. I mean, you're the only person I've ever been interested in. So, again, I'm sorry."

He sighs, "I understand why you were embarrassed, but I promise it had nothing to do with you."

"Then what was it?"

Jungkook anxiously scratches the back of his head before he responds. "It's just that…sometimes…it takes me a little bit longer to, uh…to finish."

Oh.

"Is it because of your…size?" You can't help but wonder.

Jungkook snorts, "What, you think I'm big?"

"I'm out of here." You joke, faking as if you're about to leave.

"Wait, wait, wait." He stops you, "I was only kidding. I never really thought size played a factor in it, but every guy is different. But, still, that doesn't mean I didn't enjoy us having sex. I mean, you had already finished, and I didn't want to tire you out just for my sake."

Knowing he had a perfectly reasonable explanation makes you feel even worse about spending all that time avoiding him. You want to tell him you wouldn't mind him tiring you out, that the idea excites you, but you refrain.

A beat of silence passes, and you ask, "But, I'm sure if there's something that you're really into, then it wouldn't take as long for you to finish. Right?"

Jungkook nods, "I guess."

"Then, what is it? What are you into?"

He coughs, tips of his ears turning a light shade of pink. "Um…I guess I'm into…roughness?"

Ah.

"That's not a big deal. A lot of people are probably into that."

"I mean, it's fine either way, but I mostly prefer when girls are kinda rough with me. Fuck, this is embarrassing."

"It's not!" You reassure him, placing a gentle hand on his knee, "It's nothing to be embarrassed about. I appreciate you trusting me enough to tell me."

Jungkook stares at your hand on his knee before placing his own on top. You twist yours upwards and interlock your fingers, not missing the smile that forms on his face. His bangs have swept into his eyes again, and you use your free hand to move them out of the way. "It was my first time, too, by the way."

You snort, "You don't need to say that just to make me feel better."

"I'm serious," he continues, "I mean, I've gotten pretty handsy in the past, but nothing like what we did."

You shake your head, "I don't buy it. You seemed so experienced like you knew what you were doing."

Jungkook shrugs, "I mean, I'm not completely innocent. I may occasionally watch certain videos and read certain stories from time to time."

Porn and smut. Beautiful combination.

He shakes his head, "You still don't believe me; how come?"

You sigh, memories of the night before he left for college flashing in your mind. How you ran home in tears, how he only responded to Scar's comment on Somi's Facebook post. It almost hurts to think about. "The night before you left for school, there was an opened condom wrapper on your floor. I just figured…you know."

Jungkook nods at the memory. "I wasn't gonna go to the dorms the next day. I was planning on running away, that's why I gave you that bandana. After my parents helped bring my stuff to the dorms, I was gonna put everything in my car then take off."

You're having a hard time processing this information. Why would Jungkook plan on running away? What does this story have to do with the empty condom?

He continues, clutching your hand even tighter. "I only told a few people I was leaving, and there was this one girl who came over to say goodbye. She'd been really into me for a while and was heartbroken that I was leaving. We were about to hook up, hence the condom wrapper, but I couldn't do it."

"Why?" You question.

"Didn't feel right. I wasn't into her the same way she was into me. Just couldn't do it." He explains, eyes staring deep into yours. You believe him; you know he's being truthful.

"What made you decide to stay?" You ask.

"For Somi," he answers, "I couldn't just leave her like that. And for you, too."

Though you've felt it for many years, telling Jungkook you love him is too soon. But you want to, so very badly.

"I'm glad you decided to stay." Your voice is barely a whisper now as you try to stop yourself from tearing up.

He nods, "Me too."

You sit in comfortable silence for a minute, clutching each other's hands. You wish you could stay like this forever.

"I just realized you never told me if there's anything you're into." He points out.

You shrug, "Just you." And it's true: Jungkook is the only person you've ever been interested in. Everything he says and does is genuinely attractive to you.

He drops your hand gently, using it to tilt your head towards him, and he kisses you.

You're quick to cradle the back of his head as his hands snake around your waist, deepening the kiss. You move to straddle his lap, slowly pushing him onto his back. He grunts in surprise, breaking away from the kiss. "You—"

"Stop talking." You demand before your lips intertwine with his once again. With one hand on his chest, you reach to grab a fistful of his hair and tug lightly, earning a satisfied moan from him. You're not used to being rough with guys, but you're sure Jungkook enjoys it with the way his erection is already pressing up against your thigh.

Reluctantly, you pull away from him and sit up, staring at him sprawled underneath you in complete awe. "Alright, I'll message you my number so we can text. See you later."

"No! No, no, no. Please don't go." He pleads, holding you in place when you go to stand, "Just stay a little longer, please."

You smile down at him, fighting the urge to stay in the treehouse. "I can't. Imogen is waiting out front. We'll see each other soon, okay?" You promise, planting a kiss on his forehead.

Jungkook nods, fingers drumming against the floor as he watches you crawl out of the treehouse. "Don't be too surprised if I seem extra excited to see you next time." He calls after you.

"Trust me, I won't."

Jungkook is the first boy to ever sneak in through your bedroom window.

He carelessly tosses his backpack in first, cringing when it lands on your carpeted floor with a loud thud. Though you’ve assured him your parents are heavy sleepers, he’s still worried you’ll get in trouble if he makes too much noise and accidentally reveals himself. “Sorry,” he apologizes, wrist gripping your forearm as you help pull him in.

“It’s fine,” you whisper back, “they’re not gonna wake up.”

“Still,” he grunts, using his upper body strength to pull him further into your room. “Don’t want you getting in trouble.”

It’s a day after the treehouse incident; as promised, you sent Jungkook your number and spent all day texting back and forth. Despite not being big on texting, you admire how Jungkook likes to keep you updated on what he’s doing and how he checks up on you to ensure you’re okay.

“We’ll be fine, but just in case, I did make room for you in my closet in case you have to hide.” You inform him.

Jungkook stifles a laugh, “Good to know.” He settles himself on the edge of your bed, moving over once he realizes he’d sat on a pile of clothing. “Oh, were you about to shower?”

“I was,” you answer, moving the clothing over to your nightstand, “but I’ll wait until after you leave.”

He has to stop himself from making a joke about joining you in the shower. He nods, leaning down to drag his backpack towards him, “Guess what I got today.”

“What?” You question, legs folded underneath you as you sit beside him.

Jungkook slowly unzips his backpack, careful not to make too much noise before rummaging through it and clutching something in his hand. He momentarily turns his back towards you, clips something to his shirt, then turns back around.

There’s a name tag on his chest now with his name scribbled in black ink and a little star next to it. “A job?”

He nods, “At that music store, Spin City. Need to start saving up before classes start. Plus, I wanna take you out somewhere nice before summer’s over.”

You gulp, “Like, a date?”

“Yeah. I mean, unless… I don’t know. I just kinda figured…” He trails off, suddenly worried he may be scaring you off.

You grab ahold of his hand, “I know, and trust me, you’re perfect, and I want us to be together. But, the night we saw you at that party, I did ask Somi if she would be upset if I was into you. Surprisingly, she said she wouldn’t mind as long as I talked to her before making a move on you. And, well…”

“We made a move on each other without telling her,” Jungkook finishes for you.

You nod, “Exactly.”

He sighs, “So, I’m guessing that means you wanna wait before we make things official.”

“Yeah. No matter what, I still want to be with you. But it’d be best for all of us to get her on board with this first. Show her how much we truly care for each other, and make sure she’s okay with it. So she knows my relationship with you won’t affect our friendship, and vice versa.” You explain. Jungkook’s eyes never stray from yours, listening intently and nodding at everything you say.

“That’s fair,” he agrees, “It’s a good idea. Do you want me to talk to her? Or for us to talk to her together?”

You shake your head, “She’ll definitely freak out on you; it’s best if I do it alone first, then you talk to her afterward.”

Jungkook leans back against your bed, resting his head on your pillow. It’s funny how different your aesthetics are; he looks perfectly out of place, sprawled on your baby pink pillow surrounded by teddy bears. “When?”

“I dunno,” you respond, lowering yourself until your head rests comfortably on his bicep. “Doesn’t have to be right away. As long as it’s before we move into the dorms.”

“We shouldn’t wait too long, though. It’ll only make things worse.” Jungkook mumbles, pulling you closer to him.

“I know. I’ll have a talk with her soon, I promise.”

You interlock pinkies to solidify your promise and ease his nerves. You hadn’t realized how anxiety-inducing this was for Jungkook as well. The idea of Somi not approving of your relationship had him genuinely worried.

“But, you should know that no matter what—” he starts.

You cut him off, “I know.”

The hands that once purposely dumped slime in your hair are now tugging your panties down your legs.

“Can we try something?” Jungkook asks with a mumble against your lips, your soft blue underwear now clutched in the palm of his hand.

“Like what? I actually make you come for once?” You joke, earning a laugh from Jungkook.

“Don’t worry about me.” He presses another kiss against your lips, “You trust me?”

“Of course.” You respond, sitting up in Jungkook’s bed as he moves backward, never breaking eye contact with you. He pushes your skirt up slightly but pats your hand away when you go to remove it altogether.

“Leave it on.” He commands, bringing himself at face level with your cunt.

You’ve never felt this shy in your life, grateful your bunched-up skirt created the tiniest barrier between having Jungkook see you all flustered. Never had you been this intimate with a guy, especially not a guy you technically weren’t even dating.

His thumb is circling your clit before you have the time to protest, to tell him he doesn’t have to do this just for your sake, but the feeling of his fingers pressed against you has you at a loss for words.

“This okay?” He asks.

“Yeah.” You respond, tilting your head upwards to stare at the ceiling.

Before you know it, his middle and index fingers are pressed against your opening, eliciting a gasp from your lips. At your reaction, Jungkook slips his finger into your entrance, thumb still playing with your clit. He insists on being teasingly slow today, wanting to draw out every moment and observe your reaction.

He pumps his fingers in and out of you in a slow, consistent motion, an amused smirk on his lips when he hears your breathing become ragged. Abruptly, he slips his fingers out of you, moving your thighs to rest them atop his shoulders.

“Wait, you don’t have to—oh fuck.” You’re cut off by Jungkook pushing himself forward, placing a sudden kiss on your clit that has your hips jolting in the air. His hand grabs your waist and licks at your slit, keeping you in place as he gently returns your body to his mattress.

His growing erection is the last of his worries, all too focused on dragging his tongue across your cunt. He flattens his tongue, pulling the wetness upward until he’s circling your clit again. In search of something to grab onto, your hands grip the bed sheets until Jungkook reaches forward, moving your hand over to grip his hair.

His eyes are closed when you look down at him, and you swear you can hear him moan as he eats you out. You try your best to keep the noise down out of fear someone will hear, but you can’t help but yell out when he’s back to fingering you, all while circling your clit with his tongue.

Your grip on his hair tightens, pushing his face further into your pussy, and he lets out a satisfied groan. It’s embarrassing how quickly your orgasm approaches; everything with Jungkook is so intense. He knows this, eyes fluttering open to watch your expressions. Black eyeshadow is smeared across his eyelids as his eyes focus on your own, hands gripping your thighs as he tongue circles your clit.

His fingers are relentlessly pumping into your cunt now, contrasting against how teasingly slow his tongue is moving. He pulls his mouth away, lips glistening with your arousal, and asks, “You close?”

You don’t respond directly, but the grip you have on his hair gives him all the answers he needs before he’s diving back in. It doesn’t take much for you to come after that, a final kiss pressed on your clit, sending you over the edge and coating Jungkook’s fingers.

Jungkook doesn’t stop there, still continuing to lick and suck your clit until you’re begging him to stop from the overstimulation.

“Sorry.” He apologizes, planting a kiss on your inner thigh, “Was that good?”

“That was literally the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” You respond. Jungkook lets out a laugh as he crawls up next to you. “I should be upset with you, though.”

“What?” He questions, peppering your face with kisses, “Why’s that?”

“I came over to talk to your sister about us, and you distracted me.”

“How’d I do that?”

“Because! You came downstairs in your eyeshadow. Then you were all like, ‘Oh, hey. I cleaned my room; wanna check it out?’” You mimic a deep voice that sounds nothing like his.

“I apologize for putting on eyeshadow, bringing you to my room, and eating you out. Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?”

“I guess.”

You both laugh at this as you move to pull your skirt down. “Hey, how’d you realize you like it when girls are rough with you?”

Jungkook shakes his head as the memory returns to him, a shy smile on his face as he glances over at you. “A couple years ago, I was picking on Somi for something. I don’t even remember why, but it got to the point where my parents were telling me to stop, and I wouldn’t. Then, you just started yelling at me out of nowhere, and I don’t know why, but it was the hottest thing ever. I was in awe. I really thought you were gonna slap me. Since then, it’s just been a turn-on of mine.”

“Wow. That’s actually kind of pathetic.” You tease.

He groans, “Please don’t say that. You’re gonna make me hard again.”

Laughter is shared between you once again before you lean your head down to rest on his chest, the sound of his steady heartbeat making you feel calm. A comfortable minute of silence passes before you have to address the unfortunate inevitable, “Somi should be here soon, right?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook mumbles, “within the next ten minutes.”

You sigh, “Next time I come over, I’ll have to tell her about us.”

The next time you stop by the Jeon household, Jungkook has you bent over in the backseat of his car.

His finger digs into your waist as his cock is plunging into you at full force, emptying all the thoughts from your brain. You still haven’t fully adjusted to his size, but you don’t care; the pain of being split open makes you come faster. It feels better.

Jungkook insisted on taking things slow, telling you that you’d need to adjust to his size, but the moment you sunk your dripping cunt onto him, he was under your spell.

Your body lunges forward with every rough stroke Jungkook gives you, hands buried in your hair as he pulls you up against his chest. His hand moves from your hair down to your neck, tilting your head back while applying the slightest bit of pressure against your throat. Your eyes close out of instinct as tears form in the corner of your eyes before trickling down your cheeks. He kisses them away one by one before settling his lips on your neck. You make a mental note to check yourself for hickeys afterward.

You’re coming around him before you realize it, body spasming as you grip the driver’s seat headrest. Jungkook shows no signs of stopping or slowing down; in fact, he’s sped up even faster since fucking you through your orgasm. He lets go of your neck to push down on your back, left hand gripping your waist while the right intertwines your fingers with his.

A few strokes later, he’s finally coming and jokes about showing you the used condom as confirmation.

You shake your head, gesturing for him to pass you the shorts he’d tossed in the front seat. “I can’t believe I let you trick me again.”

“What?!” He exclaims in utter shock, reaching in the front seat to grab your discarded clothing, “How exactly did I trick you?”

“I came over to talk to Somi, but then you were all like, ‘Hey, come look at my car; I just got it washed.’” You playfully roll your eyes, searching around the backseat for your underwear.

“Can I keep these?” He asks suddenly, the most nonchalant expression on his face as your panties dangle from his middle finger.

You scoff, reaching to snatch them from him, confused when he retracts his hand. “I think I will keep them until you talk to Somi. Since it was you who wanted to talk to her first.”

“Then, I guess I’ll get them back tomorrow because I’m definitely talking to her today.”

Except you don’t.

You spent the entire summer sneaking around with Jungkook and procrastinating about having that talk with Somi. It was anxiety-inducing, to say the least, and you had no idea how she’d react. You tell yourself she won’t be upset as long as you assure her your friendship won’t be affected by you dating her brother.

You’re scheduled to move into the dorms within a few weeks, so it’s best to sort things out now before you all live under the same roof, unable to avoid one another. Jungkook doesn’t seem nervous at all. In fact, he’d given you a pep-talk the day before you showed up at their home.

“She can’t stay mad forever.” He pointed out, eyes sealed shut as you do his eyeliner.

“I know,” you mumbled, adjusting yourself on his lap, “but that girl can hold a grudge.”

“Right, but this is you we’re talking about. You mean a lot to her, to both of us, actually.”

His words play in your mind as you enter the Jeon household, following Somi into the kitchen. “Baking something?” You ask, a sweet, decadent scent hitting your nose.

“Brownies for some stupid bake sale my parents are having. Help me clean up?” She asks, pouting her lips at you.

“Sure.” You agree, under the assumption that there wouldn’t be much to even clean up.

Boy, you were wrong. It’s like Somi used every dish in the house to make one sheet of brownies. There’s no backing out now; you already agreed to help, and it’d be best to stay on her good side for now.

She gets to work rinsing each dish before handing them to you to load the dishwasher, moving quickly to get everything done faster.

“What a beautiful friendship.” A familiar voice comments; you fight back a smile as Somi groans at her brother.

“You wouldn’t know; you don’t have any friends,” Somi responds, laughing at her words.

“Neither will you, soon,” Jungkook whispers back, groaning when you swat him in the chest. “Any brownie batter left?”

“None for you. Shouldn’t you be at work?” Somi asks, handing you another dish.

Somi takes a break from rinsing off the dishes to bicker with Jungkook for a minute. You tune out from the conversation, dipping your fingers into the leftover batter bowl and gathering the chocolate on your fingers.

“I’m leaving, I’m leaving,” Jungkook says. When Somi finally directs her attention elsewhere, Jungkook takes the opportunity to grab your wrist, bringing your fingers up to his lips before sucking the chocolate off them.

Your eyes practically bulged out of your head, nervously glancing behind you to ensure Somi hadn’t seen anything. You swat at Jungkook’s chest for the second time, and he laughs as if you’re being overly dramatic. It’s odd how surprisingly calm he is about everything. His demeanor would have worried you if you didn’t trust him so much.

Jungkook wipes the renaming bit of chocolate around his lips before mouthing ‘Good luck.’ You give him a nervous smile, watching as he slips past Somi and leaves out the front door. You get back to work, making small talk with Somi as you help her load the dishwasher.

It’s now or never.

“So,” you start, “we’re gonna be living together soon.”

Somi smiles, “Finally! God, I can’t wait to have some freedom. My stupid curfew is a major cock-block. Right when things are finally getting good on a date, I have to go back home. So fucking frustrating. There’s literally cobwebs in my vagina.”

You snort, loading the final dish into the washer. “Well, you won’t have that problem anymore.”

“I know. And maybe you’ll even find someone worthy even to date you.” Somi jokes, hopping on the kitchen counter.

“Uh, what if I already have found someone…worthy enough?” You question, pressing a few buttons to get the dishwasher going.

“As if.”

“Somi, I’m serious.”

She sighs, still not buying your confession. “Alright then, who is it?”

“...Your brother.”

A beat of silence passes, and then Somi doubles over in laughter, nearly slipping off the counter several times in seconds. It takes her a minute to catch her breath, clutching her collar for support as she regulates her breathing; even tears are forming in her eyes. “Holy fuck, can you imagine? You and my brother? Jesus Christ.”

“Look, there really isn’t an easy way to say this, but we really do like each other. We’ve been…together this whole summer. Well, not officially; I didn’t want to put a label on anything without talking to you about it first.” You finally confess. The weight on your shoulders doesn’t immediately drop as you expected; it’s like the load has gotten heavier.

Somi has a blank expression as she stares at you, eyes darting around the kitchen as she processes the information. “You’re serious?”

You nod.

She shakes her head, “What kind of friend are you?”

Fuck.

“Somi, please, let me—”

She cuts you off, hopping off the counter and inching towards you. “So, what? All this time, you were using me to get close to Jungkook? Out of every fucking guy on the planet?!”

“No! Of course not! Somi, I never even imagined myself in a relationship with him until this summer, I swear!” Your voice trembles as Somi approaches you. The two of you have never been in a physical fight before, but the expression on her face tells you there’s a first time for everything.

“Oh, really? You expect me to believe that, huh? So it’s just a coincidence that you guys suddenly got together right before we’re all gonna be living in the same building?”

“I know it doesn’t sound great, but—”

“I think you should go.” Somi cuts you off calmly, her sudden change in demeanor shocking you. A moment ago, she looked angry enough to hit you, but now, she seems a few seconds away from breaking down in tears.

You nod understandably, telling Somi to take all the time she needs and to call you when she’s ready to talk.

She doesn’t say a word as you exit her house, and you wonder if you’ve just lost the best friend you’ve ever had.

“I’ve never seen her this angry, Jungkook. I thought she was gonna hit me or something.” You groan, ear pressed up against your phone as you rant to Jungkook.

It’d been a few hours since you left Somi’s house; Jungkook had promised to call you during his break to hear how the conversation went. You’re still shaking as the memories flood you, how your best friend in the world accused you of using her. What a fucking joke.

“She’ll get over it, trust me. Y’know, before I called you, she spent five minutes yelling at me over the phone. Five fucking minutes, and I just took it. She’ll be fine.” He says, following up with a loud slurping noise that suggests Jungkook has chosen to have ramen for lunch.

It’s astonishing how calm he’s managed to stay this entire time.

You flip over on the couch, head resting on the armrest as you stare at the ceiling. “I just don’t wanna lose her. She’s a fireball, for sure, but she’s my fireball. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

“I just told you you’re not gonna be without her, okay?”

“...Okay.”

There’s a knock at your front door, most likely from the pizza delivery Jungkook had sent to your house.

“I gotta go. The food is here. Are you still stopping by after your shift?”

“Of course. You gonna be alright?”

“Yeah,” you stand, making your way to the front door. “I’ll save you some pizza.”

He chuckles at that, “You better. I’ll see you later, okay? I love you.”

He what?

“You what?” You pause, hand on the doorknob.

“I love you, and I’ll see you later.” He hangs up.

You don’t have time to process his words; the knocking at your front door happens again.

Twisting the knob, you’re met with Somi staring back at you. “Somi? What’re you—”

“I don’t care if you date Jungkook.” She claims, storming through your front door, “If you guys want to be together, then I’m not standing in the way. But I will not be your friend if you date him, so it’s either him or me.”

You follow Somi into your living room, your pulse quickening upon hearing her ultimatum. “Somi, that’s not—”

“Before you choose…as a girl, and as your friend, I have to be completely honest with you.” She sighs, fingers nervously raking through her hair as she sits on your couch. “I called Jungkook after you left, and he talked to me about you guys.”

You nod, taking a seat next to her. “Okay, and…?”

She sighs again, taking your hand in her own. “Everything he’s ever told you was a lie.”

#bts imagine #bts smut #bts scenario #jeon jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook smut #jungkook scenario #jungkook x reader #kpop imagine #kpop smut #kpop scenario #agust d #kim taehyung #13lov

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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 3 months

Note

You asked for Spencer Reid and Reader requests, particularly plus size, and I am so down bad for that man! Especially later seasons him.

Could I have one where he and the reader are intellectual peers but also enemies? Like she's on the team and just as wicked smart as him and into old literature and languages but they constantly butt heads? And the team knows they really just have feelings for each other, but they'll never admit it. Maybe the reader admits it to Penelope or someone one night drinking that he's hot but she never thought he'd actually sleep with her bc she's fat, but she'll take his attention any way she can get it. Maybe Spencer overhears and proceeds to show her just how hot he finds her arguing with him? 👀 Thank you in advance, girlie!

༉‧₊˚. 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 || 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

— pairing: spencer reid x plus size!reader

— summary: you and spencer hate each other, that much is obvious... right?

— warnings: very surprisingly crude language in this, self-doubt, implied insecurities, misunderstandings, e2l, they're in love and everyone else knows besides them, i made them dorks i don't apologize, mentions of wet dreams, mentions of male masturbation, dirty thoughts, kissing, stripping, vaginal fingering, spencer's dirty mouth, lots of reassurance 'cause i'm a sap, spencer reid #1 consent king, missionary, unprotected sex, sex god spencer?!?! (he does his research), pleasure dom!spencer, switch r & spencer, heavy praise, and a fluffy ending to tie this all up in a nice little bow!

— wc: 3136

⋆ a/n: okay i do admit that this is RIDICULOUSLY long, but i knew exactly what i was getting into writing this and honestly i had so much fun! i don't think i've ever created such characters that have so much chemistry with each other, so cheers to that! (unedited unfortunately :[)

masterlist | AO3

As soon as you hear Spencer’s voice, you make a point to groan obnoxiously loud.

“And just to think I would be able to go home without a headache today.”

You could feel the glare from said man burning a hole in the back of your head, so you swivel your chair around in order to face the music – in a pleasurable masochist kind of way. His annoyingly handsome face was twisted up in irritation – much to your glee – his eyebrows turned down, and his perfect, plush lips pulled into a deep frown.

You could tell you had interrupted him saying something that he deemed important, most likely a fact that you and him would go back and forth on, and you couldn’t be more pleased with yourself.

“Funny you mention that seeing as though your voice is the cause of mine.” He bit back, his eyes narrowed into slits. “Aw, you think of my voice?” You tease. “Only in my nightmares.” You wink at him. “You still think about me.”.

“You know what this reminds me of?” Luke piped up from his own desk, drawing the attention from your other intrigued co-workers in the bullpen. “Oh here we go.” Tara said in amusement at Luke’s rambling.

“Back when I was a kid there was this girl that I went to school with, and I would always tug on her hair or try to trip her,” His voice was almost reminiscent. “Everyone thought I hated her, when in reality I was just trying to get her attention.”

“Ah,” Matt said with a smile, “The classic ‘boy bullying the girl he likes,’ or in this case, it’s the girl this time.” Your cheeks began to heat and your eyes went wide, Spencer’s own face and the tips of his ears turning an admirable pink hue.

“Absolutely not -”

“What? No -”

Both Spencer and you stumbled over each other to try and defend yourself, but you didn’t have a chance because Emily’s voice cut through whatever was about to be said next, the woman making haste from her office and into the room with the round table.

“Alright you guys, enough. We’ve got a case.”

“To a job well done!” Penelope cheered as she held up her citrusy alcoholic beverage in the air, signaling she wanted to toast.

You smiled indulgently at the woman sitting next to you, clinking your glass with hers noisily and flickering your eyes over to where a disheveled Spencer Reid sat. You didn’t say anything to him though, because you’re a big ol’ softie and like to let the boy wonder rest before you have him back on his toes.

His eyes met yours the same time your glasses collided. You wish you could say that the vibrations from the clinking was the cause of the shiver that forced its way down your spine, but you knew better.

It was like the rest of the bar disappeared, the sound of the others joining in on your rejoicing fell on deaf ears. You could have sworn his dark brown puppy-dog eyes drank you in before he looked away and cleared his throat, taking a rather comically large gulp of his water.

Your eyelashes fluttered like a thousand butterflies wings as you rushed to drink your own beverage.

“Okay, what was that!?” You felt Penelope’s finger poke at your ribs before you actually heard her.

“Ow - fuck! What was what?” You yelped quietly, your hand reaching down to bat away her stabbing digits. “The - the -” She fought to portray her words before her face lit up when she found the correct ones, “The eyefucking!”

Your stomach erupted in butterflies, “Eyefucking? What eyefucking?” You asked with a scoff, hiding your blush behind the rim of your mug.

“Oh, please, don’t give me that.” It was Penelope’s turn to scoff at you. “Everybody knows that you and Spencer like each other.” She said it almost like it was a fact, leaning forward to take a smug sip of her drink through the miniature black straw.

Spencer knew listening in on Penelope and your conversation was inappropriate; but in his defense, you guys weren’t really quiet about what you were talking about.

“I -” He heard you begin, “It’s one-sided.” Was all you said before draining your beer. “So you admit it!” Penelope exclaimed with a gasp.

Spencer felt his eyes go wide at her words, but there was this desperate feeling that spread throughout his body; one that caused his fingers to twitch and the hair stand up on the back of his neck.

“When you put it like that it sounds childish!” You complained slightly, biting at the meat of your lip. “I… I’m just not his type you know? Like - you know better than anyone that guys don’t pay attention to girls like us, so you have to learn to improvise.” You were cringing at your own words, but the liquid in your cup was enough to loosen your tongue and lower your inhibitions.

“Was me choosing to constantly argue with him the smartest way to try and peak his interest? No, but I knew he liked a challenge and well… it definitely wasn’t the proudest conclusion I ever came to, but what was I supposed to do? It isn’t like Spencer would date me let alone actually want to sleep with me.”

Spencer wanted to argue with you about how wrong you were, to tell you about every thought he’d ever had about you.

He wanted to tell you about how much you frustrate him, how at first, he thought he hated you and it took him an embarrassingly long time to realize he hated how badly he wanted you; hated how many dirty dreams he had included you and that plush body of yours. He’d wondered how soft you were, how you smelled and tasted.

Did your moans and whines sound as enchanting as your laugh? Did your eyes twinkle the same way when you were about to cum?

Those thoughts kept him up at night and his hands in his pants, stroking himself to his unlimited imagination all revolved around you. Those were the days that he was more prone to pick fights with you, mostly because he was embarrassed, ashamed, and quite frankly plain ol’ horny.

Spencer thought you were just so sexy, especially when he had managed to light that fire under your ass that really got you going. He wasn’t a sadist or a masochist by any means, but he loved when you yelled at him. So, for you to think so lowly of yourself it almost drove him mad because you didn’t know.

But you were going to.

You were going to kill whoever was bothering you on your day off.

The knocking was unexpected, but so was who was responsible for the noise.

“Spencer?” You asked in surprise.

Usually you were prepared for your exchanges with the man, but if your pajamas were anything to go by, you were anything but. Spencer felt his mouth go dry at the sight of your tits sitting braless in a thin undershirt, your soft tummy slightly straining against the cotton material and a pair of shorts that look like they were practically strangling your thighs.

The only thing he could really say was… “Do you know how infuriating you are?”

Your eyebrows furrowed and you crossed your arms over your chest, and little did you know the action pressed the tops of your breasts over the hemline. “Excuse me?” You almost scoffed, “Please don’t tell me you came all the way here just to argue with me.”

“No I - fuck just let me finish.” This was not how he wanted this to go. You looked like you wanted to say something but your curiosity made you choose to stay silent.

“Do you know why you’re so infuriating?” He asked, taking a tentative but careful step towards you. “Because you haunt my every living thought. I see you when I’m awake, I see you when I’m asleep. I can’t… I can’t escape you! I can’t escape how I feel about you.”

Your eyes were wide and your brows were furrowed; it looked like you almost couldn’t breathe.

“But you want to know the worst part?” His hand lands on your cheek and his thumb gently caresses the skin there. “You have the audacity to think that I wouldn’t want you.”

“You want me?” You asked in disbelief. “But I… but I thought you hated me? I mean - I haven’t been all that nice to you.” You attempt to joke weakly, but your body is on fire; your stomach is tangled up in knots. You were trembling in excitement at his words but in disbelief too.

“Do you have any idea how much I love arguing with you?”

You laughed at his words, your lips slipping into a small smirk as you threw your arms around his neck in an act of boldness. “Oh yeah?” You hummed seductively. “You wanna show me how much?”

“Yeah,” He replied breathlessly. “I do.”

And just like that his mouth was on yours and a long leg shot out behind him to shut your front door. The slam made you yelp, but it quickly melted into a giggle against his lips when he reconnected them.

Spencer tugged you closer to him, and God the feeling of your body was so much better than anything his subconscious could have conjured up. You felt so soft and the front part of your torso pressed against his chest in a way that if he didn’t have you naked under him soon he was going to go crazy.

“Where’s your bedroom?” He didn’t want to pull away from you, but he wanted to do this right.

“I didn’t know you were a gentleman, Reid.” You teased with a dazed smile on your face. “There’s a lot of things that you don’t know about me.” You quirked a brow. “Oh really? How about you tell me?”

“Later,” He said with a lazy shake of his head, “Later.”

His hand reached down to cup your ass, your crotch rubbing on the large boner restrained by his pants. You moaned quietly at the feeling, and found yourself saying, “Down the hall and to the left.”

When you arrived, he couldn’t keep his hands off you; they grabbed at your back, ass, waist, hips. There was so much of you that he had no idea where to start. All he knew is that he wanted all of you right now.

“Can I take your shirt off, please?” His words almost came out as a whine and it welcomed a fresh wave of arousal in your panties. “Take off whatever you want, I’m yours.” A reassuring confession that Spencer had no idea he needed to hear.

His lithe, veiny hands tugged at your top first, dragging it over your head and throwing it somewhere random. Your pants and panties were next to go and you couldn’t help but shiver at Spencer's intense stare.

“I’m uh- feeling a little vulnerable here, could you lose a layer or two?”

The man blinked rapidly, his fingers shooting to undo the buttons on his cardigan. “Yes, yeah of course, sorry I -'' You grabbed the shaky digits. “Calm down, take it slow. I’m not going anywhere.” It was a light jab meant to ease his nerves. For a moment he looked unsure but you gave an encouraging smile.

After his clothes disappeared he held you by your waist, walking you backwards until your calves hit the bed. You quickly hurried to scale the mattress until your head hit the pillows.

“God,” Spencer gulped. “This is so much better than what I imagined.” You giggled slightly. “As much as I appreciate your flattery, I want you to fuck me. Now.” You said it with such simplicity that his eyes nearly bulged out of his sockets at your crudeness.

He swallowed his shock. “Whatever the lady wants.”

He hurried to crawl over your leaning body; you cup his cheek in an act of haste, dragging him down to lay on top of you. His own hands didn’t stop their determined trail, tracing the soft planes of your plush body until he reached your wet cunt.

You whine loudly at the feeling of Spencer’s fingers stroking your damp slit.

“So responsive.” He murmured with delighted smirk. You go to say something snarky but you’re quickly cut off when he begins to rub tight circles on your clit. “‘M sensitive.” You gasp against his lips, your back arching and pressing further into him.

His body falls to the side, laying next to your naked one with a cheek balanced on his fist. “I’m gonna make you cum on my fingers first,” Spencer whispers into your ear. His ring finger entered your warmth slowly and he felt himself choke on his words. You mewled, a hand shooting up to tangle in his long, curly hair, the other grabbed at his wrist.

“Then, I’m gonna make you cum on my cock.” After a few experimental twists of his wrist, his middle finger joins the first. Your breathing speeds up with every movement of his digits.

“Afterwards, ‘m gonna clean you up and take you out to eat.” Your brain could barely process what he was saying, but every word that left his mouth added to the swarming butterflies in your gut – which felt so juvenile seeing as though he was already knuckle deep inside you.

“And when we get home, I’m gonna eat this sweet pussy for dessert.”

Your eyelashes were fluttering rapidly, your hips moving frantically on his fingers in an attempt to try and get him deeper. Spencer must have sensed what you needed, because with a few firm swipes on your sensitive clit sent you spiraling over the edge.

“Spencer, Spencer, Spencer… I - I -” Your gummy walls squeezed his digits, and the only thing keeping you grounded was the heat coming from his body.

“Wow.” You laughed breathlessly. “Wow indeed.” He mimics with the same amount of amusement.

“Are you okay to keep going?” He asks.

“Are you kidding?” The look on his face was almost laughable, and you gave his naked chest an encouraging pat. “Hell yeah I’m good, how about you?”

“If I told you I could cum just from watching you, would you believe me?” You roll your eyes and snort. “We’ll find out later, loverboy. Get up here.”

He scrambles to get on top of you, but then stops. “Wait, wait,” He reaches behind your head and grabs a pillow. “Lift your hips up for me.” Your eyes go wide, because who in the fuck taught him that? Though you move a bit slowly through your surprise, he manages to get the soft thing under you, your lower back now elevated.

But all excitement dies out when he realizes there might be no protection, he looks like he could almost cry.

“It’s cool, Spence. I’m on the pill and I… I haven’t had sex with anyone in an embarrassingly long time.” You admit shyly, your eyes casting to the side nervously. “I’m clean too. I don’t really remember the last time I’ve had sex either.”

You guys make eye contact and erupt into a fit of giggles, “To relearning the art of sexual intercourse then.” Spencer scrunches his nose up at your wording, but you don’t give him any time to retort because you’ve already placed two hands on his face, tugging his head down to kiss your smile-split lips.

He takes the time to kiss you for a moment before reaching down to line his dick up to your entrance. You both shiver at the sensation. You guys disconnect your lips to watch him enter you, your foreheads pressed together and breaths mingled in anticipation.

You moaned in unison when he slowly but surely seethed himself in you fully, and your body tensed at the long awaited intrusion. “Gimme a sec.” You gulped. “Yeah, yeah, of course.” He panted.

You allowed yourself a moment to relax, brushing your fingers through his curls as a way to comfort Spencer as well. After taking a few more seconds to enjoy the raw, intimate moment between the two of you, you said, “Okay. Okay, I’m good.”

Spencer licked his lips and rolled his hips tentatively, and your breath hitched. A string of whimpers were soon to follow with every drag of his cock against your sensitive inner walls, the leftovers of your previous orgasm leaving your body feeling electric.

Your mouth drops open into an ‘o’ shape when his tip brushes your g-spot.

“Right - right there Spence…good boy - fuck - good fucking boy.”

The term of endearment was an accidental slip of the tongue, but it had frayed some nerve in his body, because the groan that left him was guttural and hungry.

“Say -” He huffs. “Say it again, please.” The pace of his thrusts speed up as he begs, and your nails drag down his back. “You’re my good boy, Spencie.” His eyes flutter shut at the praise and he doesn’t bother to be gentle anymore.

“Mphm! More - I need more.”

“Okay, okay.” He rushed to balance on his elbow so that his other arm could slip between the two of your bodies to rub at your clit. Your back arched, and Spencer all but throbbed inside of you, his balls tightening and threatening to cum right then and there; but ever the gentleman, he waited, his stomach sucked in tightly and his body jolting quivering.

“I - I’m gonna cum.”

It didn’t take much to pull you into a kiss. It was sloppy, and messy, and lewd and all of those other wonderful synonyms. Spit dribbled down your chins and with one last hard thrust that almost sent you up the bed, you gripped onto the older man for dear life.

Everything went white as you came; your hearing, your vision, every single cognitive thought you had pretty much flew out the window.

It was Spencer gently wiping the sweat off of your brow that brought you back down to reality, your lungs finally opening up and expanding for that much needed air.

“Hey,” He cooed. “There you are.”

“Hi,” You sighed with a ditzy smile on your face.

There was a moment of silence before you said, “How about we save the oral for breakfast?” Spencer laughed, but nonetheless nodded in agreement. “That sounds perfect.”

“So, what’s for dessert then?” He couldn’t help but ask. “Hm…” You pondered for a moment.

“How about ice cream?”

“I like ice cream.” But then he added, “But I like you more.”

“Ugh, you’re the worst.” You groaned, covering your eyes, but your grin gave you away. “I like you too, I guess.”

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rogueddie · 10 months

Text

A gay bar is the last place Steve ever thought he'd be, yet here he sits.

He keeps looking over to Robin- not too much, just enough to keep an eye on her. Make sure she's still having fun. Although, he's sure he doesn't need to be worrying.

The girl who'd caught Robins eye is small, feminine. She looks like a sweetheart and she keeps getting Robin flustered. They're cute together, clearly into eachother, and Steve couldn't be happier.

Even sat alone, feeling completely out of place and a little uncomfortable, seeing Robin able to flirt with someone so openly is… he just feels relieved.

He should have thought to bring her here sooner.

"Hey there." The man smiles when Steve flinches. It's a soft smile, kind. "You wanna dance?"

"Oh, uh, I don't- I mean, uh-"

"Woah, don't panic. It's just a dance, right? You look uncomfortable is all and seeing you sat alone with your big fucking puppy dog eyes is just sad." He gently nudges Steves chin up when he tries to look down, feeling awkward. His finger lingers a little, brushing along his jaw. "You don't wanna have a fun night out? I won't be offended if you say no."

And, ok, Steve's a little tipsy. He's sure he'd never agree if he were sober- it wouldn't have felt fair. The guy is clearly attracted to him, not even trying to hide the way he's eyeing him.

But Steve's buzz is more annoying than pleasant and dancing does sound fun. So he agrees, accepts the hand offered and lets the guy pull him into the crowd.

The guy keeps his distance. Anytime the crowd jolts Steve toward him, he steps back the same amount, keeping a solid foot between them. But he's grinning, yelling jokes over the music, unabashedly dancing like an idiot.

It's great, it's fun. Steve can't stop grinning, stomach starting to ache with how much he's been laughing.

Eventually, a slower song comes on, stronger sexual undertones. The guy (Eddie, he'd leant in to tell Steve when asked, explaining that he knew Steve because they used to be in the same year as in Hawkins) shrugs, pulling an exaggerated face that screams 'what-can-you-do'. He's turning away.

But Steve grabs his wrist, Eddie looking back with raised eyebrows.

"This alright then, pretty boy?" He asks after stepping in close. His hands rest low on his hips.

Steve nods, flushing. He automatically puts his hands on his shoulders, letting Eddie lead him through a weirdly intimate sort of slow dance. And Steve is suprised to find himself… into it? He's not sure.

He feels less tipsy, so he can't blame the easy blushes or the way his stomach flips on the alcohol. There's no excuse for how he's started looking at Eddie either, paying a little too much attention to the way he moves, how his hands feel when they slowly start to wonder.

He gently brushes Eddies hair out the way without thinking, tucking it behind his ear so he can see the tattoo on his neck. Eddie tilts his head slightly, baring his neck a little more. When he glances up, Eddie is watching him, curiously.

"Hate to sound pressumptious," he drawls, taking a small step forward so their chests are pressed together, "but it feels like you're making moves on me, big boy."

"What if I am? What happens then?"

"Maybe I'd ask if you're sober enough to drive or if we need to call a cab." He leans back a little when Steve moves to kiss him. He hums, smirking. "Or maybe I'd ask for your number. I'm a classy lady, Harrington; what if I don't put out on the first date?"

"I've never said no to a challange."

Eddie barks out a laugh, loud enough to startle some of the people swaying beside them. "As if."

"What? You're like... pretty."

"Pretty," he repeats, rolling his eyes. "People know I'm a fag, Steve. Even being seen with me like we're 'just friends' would fucking ruin you."

"Your point?"

"You wouldn't dare."

"Wanna put money on that?"

Eddie eyes him for a second, his derision melting into curiosity. "You want to make a bet on whether you'll date me or not?"

"Why not? One of us wins money in a bet, we both score a date, and-"

"I thought you were straight."

"Yeah, me too. But I don't think straight guys think about you like I am, right now."

Eddie steps back, considering. It's a long, tense, moment before he finally sticks his hand out. Steve quickly shakes his hand, grinning.

"You've got yourself a deal."

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #ficlet #alittlelaughtime

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spencerscoven · 2 months

Text

the alternate … art donaldson

Art has a proclivity for giving attention to his enemy. He hates her— but particularly hates how she has Patrick wrapped around her finger even more.

warnings ; smut .. slutty drunk freshman art x Patrick's gf, infidelity .. unedited for now! oops!

It didn’t take much time for Art to settle into Cornell— it wasn’t just the tennis or the girls, of which he quickly learned were rather women, or even the academics. His hesitation on his attendance was especially foolish, especially in moments like these as he rolled over, crushing the red solo up beneath him. The buzzing in his jean pocket persisted, just like it had for the last five minutes before, causing him to utter another affirmation to ignore it into her mouth.

Maybe the women had one or two things to do with it.

"Maybe just get it?"

"Why?"

"So you... can tell them you're busy."

He hummed into her mouth as the girl above him detached herself, moving to grab the stitch of her top to remove it as he tilted his hips to reach for his phone.

Patrick.

His calloused hands came up to push her thighs over his hips, sitting up to read the rapid series of text Patrick had sent. And Art soon saw— was still sending. All of them ranged from different ways of him asking Art to check up on you, letting your attendance be known. Patrick's texts detailed the simple request of him checking to see if you were taking your alcohol well. Another saying he hoped you wouldn't get roofed. And one that blatantly asked that he didn't let any of "those Ivy League assholes" fuck his girlfriend.

Art rolled his eyes, resentment laced in his actions as he muttered condolences and pledged to "be right back", his large hands taking the knob of the door and peering out into the dark hallway to find you. When a look wasn't enough, he left the room door slightly ajar, stepping completely into the hallway filled with red cups, colored lights, almost sidetracked by his team that pulled him by the neck and fought to put a drink in his hand. With a light smile still gracing his face and beer in a can, his eyes wondered up to your face, watching as your lips wrapped around a bottle of Corona, some leaking out the side of which you swiped away with the back of your hand. He felt the same kind of resentment he usually felt when he saw you when Patrick visited fill him from his chest out. He watched as you leaned against the wall talking to someone. He took in your skimpy skirt and top with less resentment, though.

He especially didn't like it when the next time he looked for your face, you were staring at him, eyes hooded and smile nasty and condescending.

"He told me to look for you."

"I know." You raised your eyebrow dismissively, almost wanting to laugh at Patrick's good intentions. He knew what you'd say about Art. Just like you assumed what Art said about you, yet he asked him anyway.

"And by that, he means look after you." Art leans in, lips close to your ear as the music sounded. You roll your eyes as he lingers there a moment too long and you expect him to say something more, but he never does.

"We both know I look fine."

It takes a beat before he responds. "We both do."

"And we both know you don't want to babysit."

"But I'm a good friend."

"I've known corrupt politicians that are better friends than you, Art."

He sways away from you, facing the rest of the party as he rolls his eyes with the kind of insularity he only reserved for you, tipping his head back to finish the rest of his beer and tossing it towards the trashcan, only to miss.

He turns to you, irritation flaring as he stabilizes himself on the sticky wall behind him by holding your hips. It's something you're willing to let go of, your breath clicking as he whispers: "You smell like pot."

"It's a free country."

"Okay," he challenges, pursing his lips as he leans closer. "What's in your cup?"

"What? Yours and Chelsea's not good enough for you?"

His upper lip raises, in a look of both disgust and toleration as he grasps your wrist, forcing you to bring your own bottle to his mouth. The contents of it are mostly able to be swallowed but the rest flow from the corners of his lips, down his chin, to his throat where his Adams apple bobs as he swallows. You wipe it instinctively, causing you to both freeze for only a moment. He shutters before he opens his mouth again to slur,

"Chelsea?"

You look at him quizzically, your mouth opening once, twice, three times, only to say nothing but erupt in laughter that rocks your head backwards and your body closer to his. Art looks around frantically, his mouth tilting downwards as he looks around, grasping your hips forward and gritting his teeth as he repeats himself.

"Chelsea? What's the fucking joke I'm not getting?"

"The girl that you just— my fucking god, Art. I know you look the way you do, but you couldn't even remember her name?" You tilt your head towards the doorway, insinuating the room you're sure his cologne still lingered in. He groans, his head falling forward in a laugh as his right hand on your hip runs up the side of your torso, his head spinning.

"I'm not a very good date, am I?" You can nearly taste the alcohol on his tongue and you're out of laughs, humor gone as a consequence of being so close to him. And maybe he's too drunk to realize it's happening, but you're too cross to care when his thumbs rub circles on your hipbone, of which he had to invade underneath your waistband to do.

"I almost finished my night like this." It's so quiet that you're unsure if it was for you to hear. But it doesn't matter, as your hand runs up his arm and shoulders, eyes following over the ripples.

"This is not the same."

Your other hand trickles down to his waistband, guiltily skating over his bulge as you feel his pocket for his phone.

"Arthur, Patrick told you to check on me. So, tell him I'm okay."

"I told him that I'd check on you. I also told him you were a bad idea, like I always do," He saws it lowly, as if it's not supposed to slip out and has only found it's way because of his level of intoxication. You scoff, pushing him backwards as you're suddenly slightly more sober. You rock back and forth, eyes rolling back, but the distance is not created before you can hear him finish: "but I never said he didn't have good taste."

You don't like that it's still said in the way only drunk and resentful Art could deliver it. "You're not a very good fucking friend."

"To who, you?" He makes it his personal duty to invade your space, his face in somewhat of a snarl. You know that some would see this as uncharacterized for Art, but it's most familiar to you. It feels somewhat like home. Albeit, a house fire, but home.

Your first encounter with him was glancing behind yourself at move in, and seeing his blonde locks brushed back by calloused hands as he looked at you, then to your racket.

Your second encounter was only minutes later, when he stood next to his raven haired friend who asked for your number as he rolled his eyes with a knot in his jaw, as if he didn't find you worthy. He tugged on the shirt of his friend, telling him there were better things to do. Better, he had said.

And that never made much sense to you. Because in your relationship with Patrick, there had always been the inconsequential three.

"You're not my friend," You begin, mind calculating how many rooms and doors of Cornell's largest final club you'd have to go before finding somewhere, anywhere, that would fit just you. "Never was."

Art's only silent for a moment, nose flaring and eyes squinting. his shoulders are tense, and if you were to look down you'd see his hand balled in a fist.

"What? What now, Art?"

"You never gave me your number."

He watches as your eyes furrow in confusion, the heat in your eyes rising rather than deflating. Without your bottle, your hands search for something to do. They resort to touching yourself in the same places he just had, your fingers running down your torso quickly, your hip bone. When you touch your shoulder is when the two of your gazes meet once again. Art watches through blue as you nod your head slowly in both horror and understanding.

You're quick on your feet. He's watched countless of your matches, even when he had no business doing so. But he is too. So when a short string of curses land out of your mouth and you march down the hallway, he's on your heels.

And all you can think is that you know his gaze better than any other. It wasn't something you intended but through these sporadic games, your body and soul had bargained to be familiar with Art more than any other. If he leaned against the net or lunch table, it became the kind of resourcefulness of movement that was so particularly him. It was rare you called on him, yet necessary when it was a matter of Patrick. He was always there, steadfast and urgent. It'd be days before you learned of the lecture he missed because of it. And while your boyfriend was off being a pro, he never was slow to tell you how good his female counterparts around him were, while you were "only barely whopping college ass".

But somehow he was always there. You found his gels and handle tape in your tennis bag. You had more than half your dining points still because you were just "a casualty of being present” when he was buying his own lunch. And it all made you feel as if he was just very...

"You're a fucking con artist," You shoved him against the door of which he only narrowly made it "A fucking wolf in sheep's clothing."

It made you even angrier that he was stronger than you but willing to let his body fall back, lips pierced in a thin obedient line as his back hit the door repeatedly under your assault until he grasped both your forearms, holding them closely together. A wince escaped your mouth, his strength relenting and becoming lighter but still he held you. He leaned down, attempting to meet your face that now focused on the hardwood below.

"I know I'm the bad guy. Still, what's it gonna be?"

You didn't look up at that. But you did at the vibration that sounded in his pocket just seconds later. There were always three.

Art doesn't waste a moment to release your arms, wrapping his own in an enclosure around your head to reach your lips, tugging you impossibly close to him. You can't help but not move-- letting him twist your head and invade your lips. It's only until you release a small moan you latch back.

After Art's kiss, your night was haunted. It was distorted beyond your eyes' power of correction. So when a pair of lips landed on yours again, you came back home. You gave in.

His hands ran down your body, invading each and every corner of you. Your hips, your waist, the small of your back, the back of your thighs which he used to hoist your body upwards and against the doorframe, caging you. As the wet kisses sound on your neck, you look past his head to the room you two now occupied, no bed. Just various pieces of miscellaneous covered in cream sheets. When you look towards the window, releasing another whimper as you feel his middle and index finger prod at your cotton panties, you can see dust aligning with the moonlight.

Like everything else he does, he's good at the way he touches you. No, nearly instinctual. Art's fingers curve and level themselves out inside of you, yet he leaves his palms frigid, rubbing your clit back and forth with the surface of it. It makes you all so weak, Art murmuring your name as the two of you lower to the floor, you're suddenly reminded of the urgency of the matter.

"Art, I need--"

"I know,"

I know,

I know.

He repeats the sentiment into your skin and it almost makes your eyes brim with tears as you feel his bulge covered by denim slot against your soaked underwear. The feeling is delicious, so you excuse your decorum when you buck your hips against his. You watch as he detaches himself from you, the depth of his blonde hair twinkling in the moonlight. His lips and chin are swollen and wet from your messy kisses that appeared to be more tongue than anything. He lifts your hips to remove your skirt on his own once he catches the way your eyes watch him, still. He looks at you, sick with the same fever, but now you're not quite sure what this illness even is.

His hands move to tug your shirt up, yet you push his hands away, making them double up on his belt as both of you scramble to slide his jeans below his ass. You also help him when he leans to grab your right leg, sliding it up and against his hip as he sways above you. You watch as he thinks, only for a moment, places a feather right kiss on your knee, whispers something you can't hear, and promptly shoves his dick inside of you.

The force of it slams your head against the door, the hinges rattling but the surprise of his size makes it so you hardly notice. You close your eyes immediately until you're struck with the realization that you hope this never happens again. You hope you're never drunk enough, or lucky enough to have your boyfriend's best friend's dick rocking you back and forth ever again. You near your eyes open, willing to at least let yourself savor what little you have now, gazing in the middle of you two where you can see him disappear inside of you repeatedly.

Art huffs above you as your name escape his lips repeatedly as if it hadn't been the first time. You find yourself unable to cope, grabbing the hardwood until you realize there's not much give. So you resort to firmly biting his shoulder between your gasps and yelps. which only surges him on to drive into you faster, his hips snapping and the sounds of both your flesh filling the room.

You feel his clammy hand reach for the hair at the nape of your neck and you allow yourself to submissively follow regardless of your confusion. Art's breath mingles with yours as he asks:

"Is it good?"

You don't answer.

"Does it feel good?"

Your brows furrow together as you nod your head up and down as if you’ve been doped, chest heaving uncontrollably. He meets your lips and it feels as if he's kissing you solely for himself as he drags his hand on your cheeks and forehead, ridding your face of your sweat and hair. His other hand circulates your clit with a firm hold and you feel the familiar sensation approaching. Your skin felt both as cold and hot as it ever had, your teeth penetrating your bottom lip, biting Art in the process.

"I don't think we should do this.." You spit out quietly in intervals, because it feels like the right thing to say right before you come all over his cock and he leans down to look at the mess you've made in bliss. The results that it gives are fruitful, as you feel his fingers' relentlessness on your clit still. But you can tell he's struggling to stay where he is, trying to milk every moment he can inside of you.

You use your feet to push his hips back, arms reaching above your head as you untangle your limbs. Your legs remain sprawled out on his thighs, of which lay on his calves. The silence between you two is like molasses, and he stares at your core as you brush your socked toes against his abdomen, then cock.

You see a frown form on his face, but you're also met with the needy repeated rise of his hips that meet your foot and help you grind against him. You watch in awe as his eyes don't leave yours, confusion filling the air. You bring your feet faster, rubbing against his tip and watch as Art's whimper fills the air and his cum shoots to his lower stomach and your sock, his eyes closing, throat repeatedly bobbing as he rides his high. You watch as the thrusts into you become increasingly slower until they stop completely and the two of you are left still once again. You marvel in the way it seems almost as if he always gets what he wants. And Art isn't quite sure of what to make of you at all anymore, with his ears ringing and chest warm.

On his knees, he cascades towards your body that slumps against the door frame. He moves towards you slowly at first, hesitating if you wanted any of this at all. But you don't decline the warmth of his chest as he pulls you in, wordlessly. You let him bury his nose to your scalp as he takes you in.

And you both agree that if this may be a story of tonight alone, you both might as well melt indistinguishably into it once again.

#art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson smut #art donaldson x you #art donaldson /reader #art donaldson /you #challengers movie #challengers 2024 #art donaldson fic #art donaldson imagine

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scoonsalicious · 4 months

Text

Like A Fairy Tale

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Dating Bucky Barnes had been like living a fairy tale, but as he distances himself from you and your relationship, you come to the realization that maybe fairy tales aren't meant to come true.

Warnings: Language to make Steve blush, mentions of alcohol use, implied sex, angst with a happy ending.

Word Count: 3.4k This is my very first posted fic, and I am very nervous but I hope you like it! If I've missed any warnings, please tell me so I can add them. Much love and thanks to my bestie @jmeelee for indulging my obsession and dropping everything to read this when I sent it to her <3 Please pardon any spelling/grammar errors.

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3 I write for 18+, so minors DNI. _____________________________________________________________

Once upon a time, being Bucky Barnes’ girl had felt like living in a fairy tale. He was everything your younger self had ever dared to dream of in a Prince Charming– attentive, affectionate, kind, and oh, how he made you laugh! You were the envy of all of your friends, the very definition of #couplegoals, and you thanked your lucky stars every night that the two of you had found one another, despite all the odds.

But fairy tales aren’t real.

You weren’t sure exactly when it started, but somewhere in the third year of your relationship, after you’d moved into a handsome brownstone in Brooklyn together, after you’d adopted a fluffy white kitten, Bucky started pulling away from you. The steps that took him from you were small at first– he was taking on more and more missions, opting to stay gone for longer periods of time. Days would go by, and they’d turn into weeks, then a month or two at a time would go by where you wouldn’t see him.

At first, it hadn’t been terrible– Bucky had always made sure to contact you each and every day. A video call whenever he could, a phone call or text when he couldn’t, but slowly, so slowly you barely noticed, the calls stopped coming all together. Sure, he’d answer when you called him… when he could, which wasn’t always possible on a mission, and you hated acting needy and taking him away from his work, so eventually, you stopped reaching out, too.

When he was home, you were like ships passing in the night. You always offered to take time off of work so you could spend some time with him before he was set to head out again, but he never wanted you to jeopardize your career on his account. Your reunions would always be passionate, but short-lived, a few hot and heavy nights before he took off once more to save the world.

You tried not to let it bother you. You really, really did. His job was so important. People’s lives relied on him. Where did you get off getting upset over that? So, you kept it to yourself. Until you couldn’t. Not any more.

“Y/N,” your best friend, Lainy, cornered you at her annual New Year’s Eve party, “where’s Barnes? He’s been leaving you to go solo for months now. I don’t think I’ve seen you with him since Mark’s St. Patrick’s Day Party.”

Ouch. “He’s working, Lainy,” you told her, not wanting to admit that March had been the last time the two of you had gone out together, let alone spent more than three days in a row in each other’s company.

“Yeah, he was ‘working’ over the Memorial Day trip, and the 4th of July BBQ, and Jack and Alice’s wedding, and your aunt’s funeral.” You cringed internally as she applied air quotes to ‘working.’ “And he was ‘working’ on your birthday, and Christmas. Babe, he’s been leaving you alone for almost an entire year. What’s going on? Are you sure there isn’t someone else?”

The worst part was, you knew there wasn’t, or at least, no one individual. When he’d first started distancing himself, of course another woman was the first thing that came to your mind, and you weren’t proud of yourself, but you’d gone through his phone to search for evidence of an affair… multiple times, and repeatedly came up with nothing. And bless Bucky’s heart, but he didn’t have the technological know-how to hide an infidelity from you. Granted, that didn’t negate the possibility that he was randomly hooking up with people while he was away. You’d have to be stupid to not consider the possibility.

You could have asked Steve. You didn’t think Captain America had it in him to lie to you about something like that, but you didn’t want him reporting on your suspicions back to Bucky, nor did you think you could stand to see the look of pity in his eye if he had to tell you that yes, Bucky was cheating on you while you anxiously awaited his return every night. So, you kept the suspicions to yourself.

Your conversation with Lainy had left you deflated. Here it was New Year’s Eve, and you were alone, the man you loved god knew where– just not with you. How many more holidays and milestones and everyday nights were you going to spend by yourself, waiting for a man who never seemed to want to be home with you anymore? This wasn’t the kind of life you wanted, the kind of life you deserved.

You made your way to the kitchen to refill your glass of wine. You’d probably already had too many, but you needed to drown the despair that was slowly filling you up. As you poured an exceptionally generous glass, a man entered the kitchen. You recognized him– Harris, a cousin of Lainy’s who had flirted with you relentlessly for years before you had started seeing Bucky.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up upon seeing you, “it’s been awhile.” He enveloped you in a friendly hug. “How’ve you been?”

You smiled and exchanged pleasantries, catching up on the overall brushstrokes of your life.

“I’m sorry about your breakup,” he offered gently, after you’d exhausted the usual small talk.

“My breakup?” you asked, brow piqued.

“Last few events I’ve seen you at, you’ve been alone. I assumed you and Barnes…” he left the thought floating, the implication hanging in the air: Barnes has left you alone, I assumed you broke up.

You huffed out a laugh. God. Was your relationship actually over and you were the only one dumb enough to not see it?

“If you aren’t seeing anyone,” Harris continued, “I would really love to take you out. You’ve gotta know I’ve been into you for ages, and I figure if I don’t shoot my shot now, who knows when I’ll have another chance.”

You cocked your head and looked at him, taking in his earnest demeanor. Here was a man who genuinely wanted to spend time with you. Why were you waiting on someone who no longer wanted to be around?

“Um, I might have to get back to you on that, Harris,” you told him before excusing yourself. You needed air.

You found yourself on Lainy’s balcony, the air deceptively mild for the end of December in Manhattan. Alone with your thoughts, you pulled out your phone and dialed Bucky’s number. It went straight to voicemail.

“Someone asked me out on a date tonight,” you said into the recording, your voice choked with tears you didn’t want to shed. “And I think I might say yes, because, honestly Buck, what are we even doing anymore? You’re never here, and I’m always alone. I tried. I tried so fucking hard to not let it get to me, because your work’s important. I know that. I do, and I’m not begrudging you for your job. But… but I can’t keep on like this. I can’t even remember the last time we spent more than three days together. Isn’t that crazy? Three days. Everyone thinks you’re cheating on me. Did you know that? You’re away so much that everyone I know is convinced you’re fucking someone else. Maybe you are, or maybe you already left me, but I’ve been too stupid to notice; if that’s the case, you could have just told me.”

You kept your composure as you left the message. You weren’t angry at him; you never could be. You were just tired. So tired, and so lonely.

“All I know is that it’s another night where I’m all by myself, wishing you were here, wanting to talk to you, to feel you, and you’re just… not. You’re off doing something, or someone, more important than me, and I used to be okay with that, but I can’t be anymore. I deserve more than waiting on you, Buck. I deserve to be someone’s priority. I really wish I could have been yours, the way you were mine.

“So, let’s just call it, okay? Your heart’s obviously not in it anymore, and mine is too tired of being hurt and alone. We’ll have to figure out what to do about the house. I’m keeping Alpine, though. You haven’t been here for her, either, and it wouldn’t be fair of you to take her if you’re never going to be around.”

Inside, you could hear the rest of the party as they counted down to midnight. When they reached zero, the night erupted in fireworks, and you could hear cheers and cars honking their horns throughout the city below you.

“Huh,” you said into your phone, “it’s midnight. Happy New Year, Buck. I hope it ends up being a good one for you, and I’m sorry for whatever I did that made you decide you didn’t want to spend this last one with me.”

You hung up the phone and the tears finally fell as you slid down the balcony railing until you were crouched on the floor. You weren’t sure how long you sat there crying, but eventually Lainy found you, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders and ushering you into her spare room. She helped you change out of your cocktail dress and into a spare pair of pajamas, and helped you wash your face before tucking you into bed. She left you with a glass of water and a kiss on the forehead, promising that tomorrow would be better, that the next best chapter of your life was about to begin, but as you drifted into a fitful sleep, you couldn’t find the will to believe her.

You woke the next morning with a throbbing headache, the alcohol and the tears doing nothing but dehydrating you into agony. You grabbed your phone to check the time, but the battery had died in the night. From the slant of the sun coming in from the guest room window, it looked to be late morning or early afternoon.

You changed back into your dress, thanking Lainy for her help and making a small joke about doing the walk of shame in your clothes from the night before. You avoided her questions about what had happened, promising to go over it at length at the weekend after you’d had some time to process. You weren’t in the best headspace to get into at the moment.

Fortunately, your best friend knew you well enough not to pry, and you said your goodbyes, plans for brunch on Sunday having been made. You weren’t eager to get back home, to be surrounded by reminders of Bucky, when all you wanted was the man, himself. But he was your ex-boyfriend now, you supposed. You were going to have to come to terms with that sooner than later. Besides, Alpine needed to be fed, and you weren’t going to abandon her.

Your keys clicked in the lock as you opened your front door. “Al, baby,” you called, kicking off your heels and closing the door behind you, “Mommy’s home. You hungry, sweetie?”

You began making your way back toward the kitchen when a loud crash from upstairs got your attention. You rolled your eyes; what had the cat knocked over now?

But then there was the roar of a body barreling down the upstairs hall and toward the stairs, leaving you frozen where you stood. You cast a glance to where you’d left your phone in your purse by the door. Too far away to reach in time to call for help as the intruder came pounding down the stairs.

A massive figure rounded the corner, nearly knocking you over.

“Bucky?” You blinked, sure your eyes were playing tricks on you, but no– there he stood, and he looked like shit. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, and his eyes were swollen and red-rimmed. He’d obviously been wearing the same clothing for at least a day, if not more.

“Y/N,” he breathed, throwing his arms around you and wrapping you in an almost bone-crushing embrace. “Sweetheart, I was so worried.”

“What are you doing here, Buck?” you asked him, pulling away from him. God, you wanted to let him hold you, but you just couldn’t. Not anymore.

Bucky cupped your face in his hands, blue eyes desperately searching yours. “I got your message. Doll, it fucking broke my heart. I came straight home, but you weren’t here, and I was terrified that you were gone; that you’d left me for good.”

You scoffed. “I’m not the one who leaves, Bucky.”

He flinched at your words. “I know, Baby. I know, and ’m so sorry. I had no idea. I shoulda known what leavin’ you so much was doin’ to you, ‘cause it was doin’ it to me, too. When I heard you say that people– that you– thought I was cheating on you, that I had neglected you so much you thought I found someone else, that I could ever love anyone else, ever want anyone else– I’ve never hated myself more, doll. I can’t stand that you even had those thoughts in your head for one second, because it’s always been you. There’s never been anyone else. You’re it.”

“Then why have you been gone?” you asked him in a whisper. “If there’s no one else, and I’m it, why don’t you ever want to be with me? Why do you keep leaving?”

Bucky ran both his hands along his face. “God, it feels so stupid now,” he said with a sigh. “But I was trying to save–”

“Trying to save the world, yeah, I know,” you interrupted him, annoyed. “Trust me, I’m well aware that I can’t compete with that. But I needed to know you thought we were worth saving, too, and you never did.”

Bucky started laughing then, and you scoffed. “Wow, you don’t have to rub it in, Bucky.”

“No, no– Sweetheart, no!” he shook his head. “That’s not it, at all. Hold on.” He went to the foyer and grabbed his go-bag; you had missed it when you walked in. Coming back to the kitchen, he put it on the table, opening it up and extracting a folded piece of paper and handing it to you.

It was a real estate listing for a farmhouse Upstate, with acreage on the Hudson. You and Bucky had talked about what kind of house you would buy if the situation had ever presented itself, and it was almost as if you’d dreamed it up.

You looked from the paper back to Bucky. “I don’t understand,” you told him.

“It needs pretty extensive renovations,” he told you. “I wanted to take on enough overtime to have the money for them and make a good dent on the mortgage, but it needed more work than I originally thought. And, I have to come clean– I haven’t been one hundred percent honest with you about where I’ve been spending all my time.” He looked up at you through his lashes, head bent down in shame.

“But… but, you said there wasn’t anyone else,” you stammered, heart ready to beat out of your chest.

“Oh god! No, and I mean that! There isn’t, I swear! God, I’ve fucked this up so bad!” Bucky tugged at his hair in frustration. “I’ve been going on extra missions, but sometimes, Sam, Steve, and I go Upstate to do some work on the house, to cut down the costs so I could still make my timeline.”

“You already bought it?” you asked, your voice flat. You were in shock. “You want to move out? Away from me?”

Bucky moaned in distress and drew you to him again. “No! God, I’m doing this all wrong. I want us to move there, together. To make it the perfect house. The perfect home for me, my wife and our stupid fur baby.”

You stilled at his words. “I’m sorry, your what?”

Bucky smiled at you sheepishly as he reached back into his go-bag. “I’ll have you know that I had an entire plan. Was gonna have the house ready by Valentine’s Day. Take you up there as a surprise, ask you properly, but I fucked that up, so…” He brought his hand back out, holding a small burgundy velvet box. He opened it to reveal a vintage engagement ring, a sapphire instead of a diamond. Your favorite stone.

Bucky got down on one knee. “Y/N,” he began as his voice choked up a bit with emotion, “I know I fucked up for the last eight months. I would completely understand if you can’t forgive me, but I need you to know that I love you. I have only ever loved you, and if you let me, I will spend the rest of my life making up for the fact that, even for a moment, I let you think that you weren’t the most important thing in my life, my number one priority. Will you marry me?”

“Buck…” you began, not sure how to phrase what you were about to say. “What about your job? I can’t keep coming in second to the rest of the world, and I get that it’s selfish of me, but–”

“I quit,” he said simply.

“What?” Your eyes were wide with shock at his statement.

“The second I heard your voicemail, where you said you wanted to call it because I was never there, I told Steve I was done, that I needed to start putting you first. It wasn’t even a question. I’m officially retired.”

Your mouth hung open. You had hoped he would cut down on his missions, but for him to have quit completely… You gently tugged him to his feet, taking the ring box and running a finger across it.

“It’s lovely,” you told him softly. “Absolutely perfect; exactly what I would have picked for myself.” Bucky beamed at you, pleased. “But I can’t accept it.” His face fell as you gently placed the ring back in his hands.

“Oh,” he whispered, eyes growing glassy. “I… um, I understand. I fucked up, hurt you. I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore.”

“I still want to be with you, you idiot,” you admonished him. “But you did hurt me, and we’ve been apart for a long time. We need time to find our way back to each other again, okay? Ask me again on Valentine’s Day, just like you originally planned. Don’t do it now just because you fucked up.” You leaned up on your tip toes and kissed him. “And if it helps make you feel better, I’m probably going to say ‘yes,’ anyway.”

Bucky grinned at you. “Really?” he asked. When you nodded, he picked you up and spun you in a circle before pressing his lips to yours as if he hadn’t touched you in months. “I promise you, Sweetheart, I’ll do anything I can to make this up to you, I swear it.”

“Anything?” you asked with a smile. “I think I know where you can start.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked you. “And where’s that?”

“Take me to bed, Bucky Barnes,” you said, kissing him again.

Without a word, Bucky swung you over his shoulder and ran with you up the stairs, your squeals and giggles echoing behind him.

Much, much later, when you lay sated together tangled in limbs and sheets with Alpine snuggled next to your heads, Bucky played with your fingers as you rested your head on his bare chest.

“So, Doll,” he said, kissing the pads of each of your fingers, “you gonna tell me who had the nerve to ask my girl out on a date?”

You laughed. “Lainy’s cousin, Harris. I suppose I’ll have to text him now and tell him I’m not interested.”

“Hell no, you’re not interested,” Bucky chuffed. “Gonna have to remind that punk you’ve already got a boyfriend. The position has been filled.”

“That’s the thing, though,” you said, planting a kiss on his nose. “I don’t have a boyfriend anymore, do I?”

Bucky’s face fell. “But I thought you said–”

“I’ve got myself a fiance.”

Bucky tightened his grip around you, drawing you even closer to his warmth. “Yeah, okay. I gotta admit I like the sound of that a lot better.”

Your entire relationship with Bucky Barnes might not have played out like a fairy tale, but in that moment, you were more sure than ever that you two would get your happily ever after.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #james bucky buchanan barnes #winter soldier #marvel mcu #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n

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frantic-fiction · 5 months

Text

Payback 18+

(Pic: northernolddragon) I cropped it

Astarion x f!reader, Astarion x f!Tav

Summary: Astarion goes too far and embarrasses Tav in front of the party. She decides she wants a bit of revenge.

Warning: Smut, MDNI, slight Dom!reader, slight Sub!Astarion, Dom/Sub switch (kinda?), delayed orgasm, Oral sex m and f receiving, PnV sex,

Word Count: 3.8k (I'm a gremlin who just can't help myself)

Masterlist

That fucking asshole. How dare he? You slammed open the door, the handle hitting the wall with a resounding smack. Locking it behind you, you kick off your shoes, stumble over your feet, and rip off your dress. You begin throwing off every other accessory and remaining article of clothing until you are completely bare and breathing heavily. You sigh, frustrated, and pull on a pair of trousers and an old, tattered shirt. Anger pulses through your veins, and embarrassment burns deep in your chest. Falling onto the bed, you drop your face into your hands and pull at the ends of your hair.

Astarion went too far this time. Usually, you loved his sassy comments and sarcastic humor. You were typically the first to laugh when he jests and pokes fun at you and the other party members. But how can you laugh when his lighthearted jokes turn to dirty secrets? When he's telling your friends out in a crowded pub intimate details from your sex life.

You should have known it was a bad idea to have Astarion feed from you while there was liquor coursing through your veins. But he was curious and very convincing. It didn't take long before you were offering him your wrist. Neither of you really thought the alcohol would affect Astarion, and you didn't expect Astarion to be such a fucking ass when intoxicated.

He teased you and shared private moments all night, and you wanted to hate him. Moreover, you wanted him to be sorry. Beg for forgiveness and mean it. But Astarion is a prideful man and has a stupidly hard time giving out apologies. He's improved, especially with you, but you don't want a simple sorry. You want payback, a little revenge, or as close to it as possible.

A sudden, devilish thought crosses your mind, and you know how you're going to get just that. Quickly, you jump up and move to set your plan in motion. You clean up the room, erasing your angry tantrum from before, and strip down naked once more. You dig around Astarion's pack and pull out his white-laced shirt. And then you wait for him.

It takes just under an hour of waiting. You filled the time with one of the books you picked up the other day. But just as you go to flip another page, the door handle twists, catching on the lock. You’re on your feet and at the door before Astarion can attempt to unlock it. The palm of your hand hits the door hard, and you're holding it close.

"Why should I let you in?" Your tone lace with venom.

"Darling," Astarion sighs, a tinge of exhaustion undertoned in his words, his voice no longer holding that annoying drunken slur. "Must we do this?"

"You weren't very nice to me tonight." You lean your back against the door, crossing your arms. “I have half a mind to make you bunk with someone else.”

His head falls against the wood, pushing lightly against your back. "If you let me in, I promise I'll make it up to you." It felt like he was breathing these words sinfully into your ear.

You flip the lock and open the door. "Say you're sorry."

"Is that really what you want?" He purrs, his eyes darkening and pressing into your space. "I much prefer physical apologies."

Astarion pulls you into a lustful kiss, his hand snaking up your shirt and massaging your breast. He bites your lip, and when you gasp, he licks into your mouth. He traces his fingers over your hip bone and pulls you close.

"Wearing my shirt with no underwear?” He nips your bottom lip, and you shudder. “I don't think you're as mad as you say, my sweet."

You smile sharply and pull him further into the room. Reclaiming his lips, you start pulling at his shirt, exposing Astarion's pale skin. He's kissing down your neck, tugging your shirt aside to lather his tongue over your shoulder. His fangs tease your skin, and you moan. Trailing your fingertips down his stomach, you undo his pants, tugging it down. Astarion steps out, leaving him in a pair of tight briefs, an outline of his swelling cock evident against the straining fabric. He pushes the trousers to the side, and the two of you fall onto the bed in a heap.

"Who says this is for you?" you say coyly, forcing his head to the side and biting hard at his throat.

"Hells,"

"Maybe I was going to take care of myself tonight." You kiss his cheek "Take a bath, have some wine," you bring your lips to his ear. "Touch myself." You tease his ear between your teeth. His grip tightens on you. "I don't need you to please myself, Astarion."

Astarion groans deep in his chest and runs his hands up your thighs to the swell of your ass. He grinds you down onto his half-hard cock. "But here we are."

"But here we are." You mimic, smiling smugly, relishing how Astarion so confidently believes he holds all the cards.

He kisses you again, and you let him. You could easily get lost in the wet dance of lips and the delicious silent promises of more to come. Give in and just let Astarion consume you. But no, you are far more excited with what's to come.

"I want to taste you." You moan needily- dragging your teeth down his chest. Maybe you were playing it up, but it seemed to work. You circle his nipple with your tongue, and Astarion lets out a deep groan, nails digging into the plush flesh of your ass.

"Don't let me stop you, my love,"

You tug his cock out and squeeze him softly; he's stiff and aching and instinctually bucks up into your palm. Licking over his nipple, you begin to suck. A trickle of precum starts to fall, and you collect it, beginning to stroke slowly. Kissing down his stomach, you reach his pelvic bone. You look up, meeting Astarion's intense gaze. His mouth is agape, his chest moving in harsh breaths. One hand is reaching up, gripping the headboard in an ironclad grip. You softly press a kiss to the tip of his cock before taking him into your mouth.

"Fuck," He hissed through clenched teeth, "Gods, I love your mouth."

Urged on by his response, you take more of him in his mouth and begin to move at a slow pace sucking and bobbing your head. Astarion's hands grabbed your shoulder and softly stroked up your neck to the back of your head. He didn't force the pace, just gently held your head, rubbing his thumb softly behind your ear.

"That's it, Darling. So good to me."

Heat rushes through your body, the praise going straight to your core. You hum and begin to bob your head faster. Sucking hard, hollowing your cheeks, you trail your hand down his tensed thigh and cup his balls. You roll him in your hands, and Astarion moans, thrusting into your mouth. You gag and grab his hips, holding him down with your weight.

He's close. His eyes are unfocused, trying desperately to stay on you; he's letting out breathless gasps and attempting to buck up into your mouth, seeking more for you to give. That's when you pull off of him entirely and squeeze his cock tightly.

Astarion lets out a needy whine, sits up, and instantly meets your eyes. He opens his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it.

"Apologize!"

"What?" Astarion says, dazed and still lost in the loss of stimulation. Then it dawns on him, and he realizes what's happening. "Naughty little-"

You give him one stroke, and Astarion chokes. "Apologize for embarrassing me tonight."

"My sweet, I was intoxicated; it's not really my fault." He's trying to give off an air of indifference, but you know him better. Astarion was moments away from crumbling.

"I was just as drunk, and I wasn't telling everyone about our sex life." You lick over the tip and begin to stoke him slowly. "Apologize, and I might just let you fuck me."

He moans deeply, thrusting up into your fist. "I-ng shit, I'm sorry, you were upset with my words tonight."

"Nope, try again." You stop completely and meet his eyes. "You have to mean it."

"Please! My love, I'm sorry." His voice cracks. He's practically whimpering; he brings his fist to his mouth and bites down to keep a semblance of control.

"That's closer, but what you said still hurts, so I want you to make it up to me." You move up his body and kiss him. "Do you want to make it up to me?"

"Yes! Anything!" He sounds so desperate. You don't think you've ever felt so aroused. You clench instinctually against nothing, seeking friction that's not there.

"I want you to beg. I want you to beg to fuck me, handsome" You scratch your nails teasingly down the broad of Astarion's chest. "I want everyone to hear how - how did you put it, love? 'desperate and needy' you are for me."

He looks at you like you’ve grown a second head, eyes blackened from arousal, and a smile stretches his lips."I like this side of you, Darling."

Astarion captures your lips, and you're on your back before you can comprehend what's happening. "My sweet, please, I need to touch you." His voice is louder than it needs to be.

"Do you?" You purr, hooking your leg over his hip.

"Yes!" He moans out, rutting against your dripping cunt. "Please, I need you!"

You brush your hand through Astarions hair and pull him down for a kiss. "Then be a good boy and touch me."

Astarion doesn't need to be told twice to tug up your shirt. You let him pull it off and throw it across the room. He starts to trail sloppy, wet kisses down the column of your neck. A rough hand grabs your breast, and nimble fingers pinch your nipple. You sigh and thrust your hips up when Astarions mouth finds your other nipple and rolls the peak softly between his teeth before sucking hard.

"Astarion," you moan, caressing any available skin of his you can reach. "So good to me."

He grunts at the praise and moves down your stomach, leaving kitten licks and sharp nips in his wake. His hands are trailing down your sides and stop to grip your hips in a firm hold. He pulls you down the bed, and you let out a little yelp. Astarion meets your half-lidded gaze and bites at the fat of your thigh, lapping up the droplets of blood that bead up to the surface.

"The sweetest treat," Astarion moans, throwing your leg over his shoulder, trailing his nose down your thigh to the spot you want him most. But I'm still famished. I need more, please."

"Don't let me stop you, handsome." You smirked, mimicking his previous words. Your breath was catching, and you felt just as desperate as Astarion.

You let out a gargled mewl when Astarion trails one long agonizing lick up the length of your cunt. He never breaks eye contact; you bite your lip and grip one of your breasts, fisting the other into the bedsheet.

Astarion consumes you like he'll never be able to again. Desperate, messy, and with no care for the thinness of the walls. You gasp and instinctually try to clamp your legs close. His cold hands hold your hips apart, only allowing pathetic gyrates of your hips. The room is filled with filthy wet slurps and needy moans as Astarion tears you apart.

"Faster, Star. Don't you dare stop," you demand, grinding against his face, shivering when his pointed nose teases your clit. "Such a good boy."

His moan quakes through your cunt, and you throw your head back into the pillow, arching your back slightly. Astarion's fingers push into you and match the ragged pace of his mouth. Your hand finds his soft curls again and holds him in place, pulling gently at the roots. Astarion could break away anytime, but he seems to like it because you feel him grind down against the bed.

"No, no, pretty boy." You tsk, pulling his hair harsher. He grunts against you, sucking harder at your clit. "You don't get to come until you’re forgiven."

Astarion pulls away from your clit, chin glistening with your juices. His fingers are still pumping into you. "You cruel women." He practically whines breathlessly.

"You're- shit- you're making up for your naughty behavior, remember?" The coil is tightening in your stomach, your body hot, and your breath shaky. "Now be good and make me come."

He smiles wickedly and resumes his ministrations. He curls his fingers up and presses against the spot that has you gasping in silent cries. His mouth finds your clit again and laps his tongue against it. He's relentless, and your legs are trembling. The pleasure is building, the flame licking through your veins.

"m close, Star,"

He doesn't stop or voice any cheeky comments he would typically make. He just pumps his fingers faster and sucks and lavishes his tongue harder against your cunt. You feel your body tightening, and you grab for anything to hold on to; one hand is still in Astarion's hair, but your other hand grabs his shoulder, digging your nails into his flesh. Astarion scrapes his fangs playfully against your clit, and that's all you need to fall apart.

You're moaning and screaming his name and mumbling incoherent praises into the air. Black spots seem to cloud over your vision, and all your muscles tighten at once. Astarion drags you through your orgasm, slowing his fingers and moving to soft kitten licks. It takes you a moment to return to yourself, and you are out of breath and covered in sweat. Looking down, you see Astarion. He's staring at you, licking his lips, collecting every drop of you. His face is full of affection and untenable arousal.

"Am I forgiven?"

You surge forward and tackle him into an uncoordinated kiss. You maneuver him around until his back is against the headboard, and you are seated comfortably in his lap. Your tongue tangled with his, the tangy sweetness of your release mingling in the dance. Pulling back, you catch his lip tugging playfully.

"Hmm… I don't know," You smirk, grabbing his neglected cock and giving it a few languid strokes.

"Darling, please!" He begs, head falling back, exposing his neck to your greedy mouth.

You press your mouth to the hollow of his throat and suck until you're sure there will be a noticeable mark tomorrow. "I guess you have been such a good boy." Circling your thumb over his tip, you swipe his cock through your folds, coating him in your arousal.

"Yes, I've been so good." His voice chokes, and he clenches his jaw, desperately trying to seek more friction. Hells, he was so incredibly sexy like this.

"And I think a good boy deserves a reward. Wouldn't you agree, Star?" The rush you feel at his desperation, his neediness for you and only you, has your confidence surging.

"Yes! Please!"

You line him up with your hole and sit down painfully slow. Two groans of pleasure join together in the room as you seat yourself to the hilt. Astarion grabs your hips in a death grip, releasing an almost painful hiss through his teeth. For a moment, you don't move; feel the stretch and the completeness he gives you. Meeting his eyes, you place your hands on his shoulders and raise on your haunches. You pull up almost off him completely before lowering at the same brutally slow pace.

"Gods, you're so tight." Astarion groans, head falling against your arm.

He uses the grip on your hips to help set a steady pace that has both of you dissolve into a moaning, blubbering mess. You clench around him and run your hand up his neck to the back of his head, pulling him to your chest. Astarion is quick to resume lavishing your breast with messy kisses, surely littering you with bites and bruises that will linger for days to come.

You would have loved to drag this out. Punish Astarion for hours until he was nothing but a mumbling, blushing pussy-drunk mess. But you were growing impatient, and the delicious feeling of Astarion's cock filling you was clouding your more devious thoughts. Grinding your hips down hard onto his cock had Astarion gasping into your chest.

You cupped his jaw and captured his mouth before whispering seductively into his ear. "You've been forgiven. Now I want you to fuck me hard."

A deep groan rumbled through Astarion's chest, and he did just that. You're suddenly on your back, and his tongue is in your mouth. The slow pace was thrown out the window to a brutal pounding that tore the breath from your lungs.

"A-astarion, fuck” You roll your hips to match his pace.

You're not going to last much longer; you don't think you've ever been more aroused, and seeing how pent-up Astarion is, having been teased along for too long. You know he's just as close. You grab his hand and pull it down your body to where you want it most. He grunts huskily in your ear and rubs harshly at your bundle of nerves. Throwing one of your legs over Astarion's hip, you adjust your body, and his thrusts find a new angle that presses against that beautiful spot inside of you.

Astarion’s other hand, can’t seem to stay still, moving up and down your body, trying to pay equal attention to all of your soft skin. He’s squeezing your hip, tickling your side, cupping your breast, and moving back down to repeat all over again. He’s peppering kisses over your forehead and cheeks, biting your kiss-swollen lips, running his nose along yours. It’s overwhelming and not enough, but it is always with him. Astarion moves to your neck and sucks at his favorite spot, the place he feeds most frequently from, silently begging for a taste.

"Mhm," you nod, words no longer forming on your tongue.

Astarion's fangs pierce your skin, and the familiar icy cold floods your veins. You cry out as he greedily drinks from your body. Your blood seems to turn Astarion feral. He grabs your other leg to join the other in a link behind his back. Astarion grinds you into the mattress, brutally pumping in and out of you. All your body can do is wrap your arms around his neck, smoothing your hands over his body, and hold on. The only sounds that echo in the darkroom are the slick, obscene sounds of skin sliding against skin and needy moans and desperate whimpers.

You can't tell if you're lightheaded because of the pleasure Astarion is giving you or the blood that he's consuming from your neck. It's probably both, but right now, you only care that he keeps going because that lovely burning heat is returning and boiling in your stomach.

"I'm so close," you whimper.

This has Astarion finally pulling away from your neck. He looks deeply into your eyes, his pace never faltering. There's a trickle of your blood running down his chin, and you reach up to catch it. You push your thumb into his mouth, and without breaking your gaze, Astarion licks it clean. He grabs your hand and laces his fingers with yours above your head. His hand somehow seems to move faster against your clit, and you are moments away from coming undone. On the ledge but seemingly hanging by your fingertips.

"S-so am I, darling." He manages to stutter out, and you pull him down for a kiss. It is desperate and needy, and the taste of your blood, sharp and metallic, mingles with his spit. "Come for me, love; let me feel you."

Those words, always commanded with such affection, had an immediate effect. You clench around him like a vice, mouth falling open in a silent gasp. You sigh his name into his mouth and cup his face with your spare hand as if the moment you come down from this high Astarion might no longer be real.

Astarion's pace falters, and he clumsily thrusts. Once, twice, three more times before burying deep into your cunt and coming hard with a deep groan. While you're still amid your ecstasy, you are still mesmerized by Astarion coming undone before you. The way his jaw clicks shut and he squeezes his eyes closed. The tightening of his hand on your body, gripping hard enough to bruise, not that you minded. The stuttering minute juts of his hips as he rides out the last of his orgasm. And finally, watching Astarion's body turn to jelly, bones and muscles collapsing under his weight as he falls onto you, head finding your chest.

You run your hand through his curls, scratching his scalp. Astarion purrs softly and kisses your chest, running delicate fingers up your side. He catches your hand and brings it to his lips to kiss the inside of your wrist.

Astarion rolls off of you and moves from the bed. You whine at the loss of fullness but make no other protest. A tiredness has settled deep in your bones; you don't think you could move if you wanted to.

Thankfully, Astarion was quick to return. In his hands was a cup of water and a wet cloth. Smiling softly, you take the glass from him and take a long gulp. Handing it back, he places it on the nightstand and rejoins you in bed. Astarion delicately cleans you off, kissing your neck when you wince from oversensitivity. After that was taken care of, he discards the used cloth and pulls you to his chest, kissing the crown of your head and tightening his hold on you. You hum softly and nuzzle into his chest.

"I am sorry," he says, fingertips drawing nonsense patterns on your back. You glance up to meet his gaze, and he pushes some of your hair out of your eyes. "I'm truly sorry I hurt you, my love. I didn't mean to."

You give him a tender smile, "Thank you, Star," you kiss the chest just above his heart and whisper, lips brushing against his skin. "I love you."

"And I love you."

Next Day: You giggle over your glass of juice, watching a very disgruntled Astarion from across the room. His shoulders were tense, and his eyes were sharp. His bare forearms crossed over his chest. He was slouched down in his chair, looking like he would rather be anywhere else than in his current situation.

Gale was sitting in front of the vampire, a dusty tome placed on the table between him. You could barely hear the wizard's words as he vainly tried to teach Astarion a simple silencing spell. Gale was trying to help, given the very vocal display Astarion gave last night. And you couldn’t be more pleased at Astarion’s predicament.

Astarion's ears twitch and his head snap in your direction to give you a pointed glare. He's only given more of your laughter in response.

Fine I'll admit it, I like a needy Astarion, sue me. But you got to agree that drunk Astarion would be a fucking menace.

Anyways let me know what ya thought. Talking with you guys is a highlight of my day.

Taglist: @heartfully10 @ayselluna @marina-and-the-memes @anixson @canonicalchaoticneutral @toadsbitch @meulinkitten-blog @ambr4armr

Want to be added? DM me.

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion smut #reader insert #astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion imagine #bg3 #fanfic #writing #frantic fiction

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rinhaler · 9 months

Text

Baby I Know How To Use a Gun (𝒢𝓊𝓃.. 𝔊𝔲𝔫)

✧˖*°࿐ : 18+ only, no minors. ✧. ┊ ⁭toxic!megumi fushiguro x f!reader

Genre: smut Notes: this concept has been making me insane for WEEKS I just had to get it down, it's icky as usual = bon apetit ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ p.s. i dont know anything abt guns uwu Warnings: 18+, dubcon, vaginal sex, alcohol consumption, cheating, toxic!relationship (they are both toxic af), gaslighting, manipulation, coercion, co-dependency, gun inaccuracies (probably), gunplay ♡ physical abuse?, pussy drunk!megumi, choking, dacryphilia, daddy!kink, bruising ♡, spanking, masochism, minor dildo use, fingering, dumbifcation, pussy spanks, scratching, breeding kink, calls your pussy ‘she’. Words: 8k (I'm so sorry)

part of my toxic lovers collab

Nothing bothers you when you’re with Megumi. It’s impossible to feel any emotion besides pure, unadulterated lust whenever he’s with you. You were always such a prude before him. Absolutely disgusted whenever you’d see a couple hold hands or peck each other on the cheek.

It made your skin crawl when you saw couples kiss with tongue.

But he’s turned you into something you hate. You don’t care if you’re sitting with a group of friends, you couldn’t stop yourself from straddling him and basically dry fucking his thigh while making out with him. And it was worse when you drank.

So here you are now, in the back of a taxi on the way home from a mutual friend’s party. You haven’t seen Megumi in two days after a particularly vicious fight. You’d think an invisible force was driving the taxi, the way you’re kissing and wriggling around for him. You’ve rolled your hips so much that the uncomfortable driver can see a tease of white cotton between your legs under your little cocktail dress.

Megumi’s mouth is wet. A combination of sticky lip gloss and a mixture of saliva’s. He pulls away from kissing you every so often just to hear you whisper desperately for the feeling to return. He pulls little moans from you as he teases between your sodden folds.

“Knew you’d miss this dick too much to say no.” he grins before kissing you more. You laugh into it, not an ounce of remorse or regret behind it as you feel him against you. “Say you missed me. Tell daddy you missed ‘im.” he demands, grunting against you.

You ignore him, trying to shut him up with a kiss. A perfectly manicured hand traverses from his shoulder to his thigh, a subtle tease to distract him. A noble attempt results in failure when he stops playing with you and grabs your wandering wrist.

“Tell me.”

You avert your eyes, deciding to look out of the window while wiping the spit and gloss from your chin. He watches you, carefully, eye twitching as he tries to deduce what you’re keeping from him. A finger presses into that soft flesh of your cheek bending quickly and forcing you to face him yet again.

“What are you hiding?” he asks, the friendly lilt behind his voice being betrayed by the unamused sneering smile on his face. “Who did you fuck?”

“None of your—”

“Just tell me, you know you’re going to fucking spill so just do it now.” he instructs. You hear an amused scoff from him as you cross your arms petulantly and pout like a child who isn’t allowed a toy from the store. His face gets closer to yours, but you’ve already had enough of him. It’s been two days and you thought you were gonna die if you didn’t see him. But a few minutes in a taxi has reminded you why you didn’t want to see him in the first place. “Did he at least make you cum?” he whispers into your ear.

A soft breath leaves you as his hand slithers down your stomach and under the hem of your dress. You want to protest as you feel him prodding over the damp spot of your panties, but your mouth turns dry. Words turn to ash as he repeatedly tortures you with featherlight touches against your clit.

“Hm? Did your new little boyfriend make this pussy cum?” he wonders, voice a lecherous buzz that vibrates from your ear to your cunt. You fucking hate him. You can’t stand how difficult it is to stay true to your morals and self-respect when he knows every single square inch of your body and exactly which titillating button to press. “Mmm, bet he didn’t. Bet he couldn’t. ‘cause she only listens to me.”

“Megs…” you groan. Your hips involuntarily rolling up into his touch. The teasing barely there presses making your mind hazy, your body instinctively chases for more as the touch feels less and less the harder you buck. “D-Don’t stop, Megu—”

He softly kisses your lips to silence you, still refusing to continue touching you properly. You moan, a chaste sound as his lips stray from yours to kiss along your jaw like he loves you. He sucks at your neck like a fucking vampire before alternating to those sweet kisses again. You hate him, you hate that he’s trying to be something he’s not to get you to tell him your secret.

These kisses are so fucking sickly, like a stranger is forcing himself inside of your skin with each delicate press against your neck. And it’s making your teeth rot. You’re a stupid girl. His stupid girl because you’re falling for it. Your candy-coated tongue is loosening and preparing to bare your entire fucking soul to him so long as he keeps touching you and giving you your sugar fix.

His hand holds your waist, a weight for himself more than you. Two whole days away from your perfect cunt has been hell for him, and not being able to touch you is a fate worse than death. He wants to tease your pressure points until you’re dying for him. He wants your every breath to be agonising without him.

Without seeing him.

Without feeling him.

Without breathing him.

He needs your every thought and whim to be aching for him and him alone. So, he needs to control himself. By showing restraint and fighting his primal urge to make your pussy fucking purr for him, he’s keeping his hand on your waist.

You smirk as he decorates your neck in bruises, you feel the sickening smile sprawling across his fucking face. And again, you want to protest, you want to tell him what you think of him and how much you can’t stand him. But when his hand begins another journey, you can’t. You can’t as your body jolts into his touch as his fingertips tickle your ribs. They don’t stop, teasing traces of his finger cover your body despite being clothed.

How can such a light touch feel so powerful?

You try to stifle yourself as he cups your breast, the flesh and swollen nipple are exposed thanks to your decision to forgo a bra. You still have your dignity, Megumi isn’t that perverse to allow this random old driver the honour of seeing your tits.

You’re just that weak.

They’re covered, entirely, and still his rubbing and tweaking are too much for you. Your attempt to bite your lip is just that. An attempt. A feeble attempt to withhold your pleasure from him which only ends in you mewling harder for him. Your heavy, lust-filled breaths fill the cab as he rubs his thumb slowly back and forth over your nipple. His teeth bite and kiss at your jawline once more, albeit he is barely present either. He’s almost as fucked out as you are, he can’t silence his pleasure. His breathing heavier than you know it to be. His eyes lidded heavier than they’ve ever been.

“Yuuji—” you pant, your body is limp in the back seat as he feels you up. His fingers dig into the supple flesh of your thigh as he kisses your neck and sinks his head until he reaches the top of your breast. “Did you hear m— ow! Megumi!”

“Shut up.” he chides. He sank his teeth into your tit before speaking.

You stare into his emerald eyes as you contemplate his next move. That’s the one bad thing about being with Megumi.

That’s a lie, there’s a lot of bad things, you just choose to ignore them.

But you know you’ll never be as clever as he is. You’ll never be able to fully read him like he does you. He knows every move you’re going to make before you’ve made it. He can read you like a book and it fucking scares you.

“Yuuji couldn’t make you cum… you wanna know why?” he asks, his thumb strokes your earlobe between gentle pulls. It’s too sweet again, you think. There’s no way he’s this calm after finding out you fucked his best friend. He’s always been jealous. You think he’s just possessive but deep down you should know the truth. He’s scared you’ll leave him. He’s insecure and that is why he makes such a show of making it known that you are his.

“Why…” is all you can think to say. And he smiles at that. His fingers no longer toying with your ear. The way his fingers draw along your skin makes your hair stand on end. He feels no sympathy as he sees your arm breakout in goosebumps despite knowing he is the cause. And he feels even less as he wraps his hand around your pretty little throat.

He squeezes tight.

Tighter.

“Because you don’t belong to Yuuji. You belong to me.” he tells you, his grip is bruising. His teeth are bared as he feels your pathetic pawing, desperately trying to pull his fingers from your neck.

He’s going to kill you, you think. His voice full of vitriol and malice as he effortlessly wrings the life out of you with one hand. And the taxi driver doesn’t care. He doesn’t want to intervene because it isn’t his place.

A lovers quarrel.

That’s what he must think. You were all over each other a moment ago after all, maybe you’re just a slut who likes it a little rough.

You are, but that’s besides the point.

He probably doesn’t want to risk sticking his nose in and getting more involved than he needs to be. You know yourself that Megumi doesn’t care. He’d only tell him to mind his own fucking business.

“You think I didn’t know?” he whispers, his breath warming the shell of your ear as he doesn’t let up. “You reek like him… you smell like a fucking whore.” his words, his tone, his breath all dripped with virulence. He lets go of you, practically throwing you to the other side of the taxi as tears spill over your cheeks.

You wipe them, quickly, but the damage is done. The way you’re sniffling and trying to do damage control to your perfectly done makeup is nauseating to him. Silence fills the taxi and the air is thick. You roll down a window, the cold air lashes against your face and dries your tears as you wait to reach your destination.

The car pulls up outside of your apartment. You barely wait for him to come to a stop before you open the door and rush out to open the security door. The bite in the winter air has you trembling as you fiddle with your keys. The little dress and lack of coat certainly wasn’t a wise choice, but you’ll always place looking hot ahead of being practical.

But in truth, the weather isn’t the sole culprit. It’s barely bothering you, honestly. Megumi’s casual callousness and unyielding grip around your throat are what has you shaken up. It’s not the first time he’s choked you and you doubt it’ll be the last. But it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him do it with that look in his eye. A look that told you how little you mean to him. How unfazed he would be if you died by his hand.

You’re wrong, though. While you’re fiddling with your keys Megumi pays the driver. He tips him a fair amount and then follows you out, approaching slowly as he waits for you to open the door. His eyes weren’t cold because you mean nothing to him, it’s the opposite. You are everything to him. Why do you think he’s being so cruel to you? To get it through that pretty little skull.

“You didn’t answer me, princess.” he tells you, and by now you don’t even know what he’s talking about. “Did you think you could fuck anybody and I wouldn’t find out? I always do.”

“Shut up.” you tell him, though it’s quiet and meek. Your usual bravado and confidence lodged in your dry throat. You finally slot the key in the hole and turn it, allowing him to enter with you. “You said it yourself… I was always going to tell you I fucked him.”

He scoffs, watching you climb the stairs. Even now he has no shame. He’s unable to stop himself peaking up your dress to see your panties riding up your ass as you walk. You can be as mad at him as you like, you both know you’re too weak to say no to him.

He follows, eventually, catching up with ease. You allow him to take the key from you and walk ahead, unlocking the door like it’s his apartment. It may as well be, he spends so much time here after all. Most of his things are here, you’re here. Though he’s been banished for the last few days to stay at his dad’s house after your latest fight.

The door opens and he makes himself at home. He collapses onto the couch, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table and crosses one ankle over the other. You go inside, slowly, locking the door behind you and looking at him suspiciously.

“… What are you doing? I know you aren’t here for a fucking movie night, Megs, are we going to bed or not?”

“No. We’ve gotta talk first.” he tells you. You roll your eyes and leave him alone to walk to your bedroom. He sighs, annoyed, following you. “Back to being a brat? You only fuckin’ behave yourself when I make you cum.”

“Fuck you.” you sigh. “What is there to talk about?”

“You cheating on me with my best friend springs to mind, baby. We should probably clear that up, shouldn’t we?” he’s talking like it was a silly misunderstanding. Like you almost walked away with his suitcase at the airport that just so happens to be identical to yours. But nothing you do will ever match up to what he does. You can go low; but there’s no sight to the depths he’ll stoop to.

“Fuck! You!” you tell him, pointing your finger in his face like you always do when you’ve had too much vodka. “You are the reason I don’t have any friends anymore because you fucked them all! I broke up with you when I fucked Yuuji so whoever I fuck in that time is none of your business. I—”

“Baby—”

“No, shut up. I forgave you every single time you fucking cheated on me because I’m an idiot and I love you. So, stop talking about Yuuji, it doesn’t matter. We weren’t together. In fact, we still aren’t! You should count yourself fucking lucky that I’m even giving you the chance to fuck me tonight.”

He walks to you, slowly, and you don’t have the energy to be a brat anymore. You let him get closer and closer until you’re looking up into his eyes while his hand rests on your hip and the other cups your cheek. His head tilts, and your eyes instinctively flutter closed as his lips press against yours.

“I know ‘m lucky, princess. Missed you so much baby.” he tells you before deepening the kiss.

You’re too weak to be with a man like him and expect to be anything but a plaything. The hand lingering on your hip wraps around your back before down to your ass. The pudgy softness of your ass swells between his fingers, the white material of your dress warming his hands as he grips you roughly. He smirks against your lips before landing a harsh smack against your supple flesh. The yelp he extracts from you is fucking delectable. He could quite happily gorge himself on the sound and make it his life essence until the end of time.

“Daddy missed his perfect girl ‘n her perfect pussy… didn’t even fuck anyone else. No one compares to you, y’know?” he tells you quietly, almost like it’s a secret only meant for you to hear. He hikes up your leg so it’s settled around his waist, your other instinctively follows so that you’re completely in his hold. He walks you to the bed, his mouth suffocating yours and you can’t think of a single coherent thought as your brain feels starved of oxygen.

You giggle as you fall onto the bed, your shoulder blades against the mattress while he presses his weight fully on top of yours. He keeps a thigh between both of yours, and he revels in how pathetically you’re rutting your hips against it just to satiate the slightest bit of tension formulating at your core because of him.

Your arms wrap around his neck and you slip your tongue into his mouth. The moaning sounds trapped in your throat break free and he devours them as he feels you up in every way he can to make your mind dizzy and drunker than vodka could ever make you.

“Do you believe me?” he asks, breaking the kiss to see how needy you are. Your eyes give you away in an instant, filling with water the minute he pulls away. You feel so in love with him when you have your arms around him like this. When he’s caging you in like you’re his property.

You are.

That’s how he sees you, and that’s how he makes you feel.

No matter how dehumanising or fucked up, you just don’t care. You wouldn’t want to belong to anyone but him, anyone. And isn’t this what the main goal in life is? To find your person? To fall in love and be adored so wholly it makes you insane?

You feel that with him.

He feels that with you.

“N-No…” you confess. You aren’t scared of him; you never really have been. You’re scared of what he can do to you. You’re terrified of how strong he is and how unyielding he is in his pursuit of having all that he wants in the world with a cherry on top for presentation. But he doesn’t scare you, not really. Not enough to hide how you really feel. “Why would I believe you when you’ve cheated so much?” you ask.

He’s a little surprised by your brazenness and resolve. Usually with a little kissing and humping you stop caring about what kind of a person he is and what he’s done to you in the past. You aren’t scared; but you’re making him feel fear.

“Mmm, baby. You really need to cum, hah? Is that why you’re bein’ so dumb f’me? Can’t think because you need to cream for daddy…” he insults you with ease, and your brows knot into a bemused frown. “Awe… you’re s’cute when you’re confused, baby. Jus’ let me touch you, don’t think too hard. I forgive ya.”

“W-Wha?” you hum, the determination to continue questioning him falls silent as he pushes your panties into the crease of your thigh. The breeze rolling through the open window causing a shiver to roll through you and truly feel the difference between your freezing body and the sopping warmth betwixt your thighs.

“You said you didn’t cheat when you fucked Yuuji. So how can I cheat if I fucked other girls at the same time?” he asks. “I didn’t, though,” he spreads your pussy lips open and collects the ever-dampening slick on his fingers. He buries his head beside yours, kissing and breathing against your ear as he swipes softly over your throbbing clit.

“But you—”

“I fucked my fist ‘n thought of you.” he whispers, his fingers not stopping the lackadaisical stroking. “Whenever I got hard… jus’ thought of your pretty cunt swallowin’ me and made myself cum so fast. Looked through your Insta feed ‘n your selfies, imagined cumming all over your face.”

“Fuck.” you keen, hips bucking wildly in search of more pleasure than his modest touches. You fully wrap your arms around him, kissing him passionately and he begins to pick up the pace. “I love you.” you mumble, like the pathetic person you are. He grins and bites your lower lip before kissing you deeply.

He’s got you right where he wants you.

“I love you, baby.” he confesses, though you’ll never know if he really means it. Maybe he loves fucking you and loves having a pretty little trophy on his arm to call his and show off to his friends. Maybe he loves the idea of you and what you can do for him in terms of looks and status.

But is he in love with you?

You can only hope.

All you can do is hope he never lies to you. He never hides his cheating from you, you think he’s always honest with you so is it possible he can actually love you when he says he does? It’s enough to make you cry. Knowing that you’ll never really know makes you feel sick with an excruciating desire to make him.

You have to be his perfect girl.

You have to take all of the negatives that come with loving Megumi Fushiguro.

He stands above you on his knees, reaching over you to grab some pillows to place under your hips. You wriggle and squirm in his absence, awaiting his return to you. But you forgot about the pillows. Your head snaps in the direction he’s reaching as he picks up the two nearest pillows to him. Any attempt to object would be fruitless now that you’re too late.

Your body fills with heat and shame as he lifts the pillows to see a purple, silicone dildo beneath where they once were. The laugh that escapes him is boisterous as he looks between you and the toy. You shield your face with your hands, almost ready to cry, and his laughing doesn’t cease.

“This is pathetic, princess. Did you even fuck Yuuji? Or did you just spend the last two days riding this stupid thing?”

“I fucked him!” you protest. You reach to grab the purple dildo from his hand but he’s too fast for you, still far too amused by this discovery to let up on teasing you. “He did make me cum, by the way—”

“You are a fucking liar.” he snorts. “Bet ya hurried him out of here so fast so that you could stuff this purple cock up yourself and pretend it was daddy fuckin’ you. Bet you were tryin’ so hard to cum and you couldn’t.”

“I hate you.” you sniff, attempting to grab the toy once more to no avail.

“You just told me you love me. So again, you’re fuckin’ lying to me, princess.” he continues.

You feel his body press against yours once more as he cages you in. You just watch him and prepare for whatever he’s about to do. There’s no point in trying to fight him when you know you’ll always lose. You cringe, slightly, as he starts to trace the tip of the cock over your swollen lips. His own mouth widens, a silent action, he’s coaxing you to mirror. And perfectly, you do.

You’re almost certain you see a heart-shaped twinkle in his eye as he softly pokes it in and out of your mouth, enamoured by the way your tongue instinctively swirls around it. You see more of his sharp canines the further he pushes it in. And it’s a full-blown snarl as he shoves it down your throat until you’re sputtering.

“I fucking hate you!” you yell and grab the toy quicker than he’d anticipated, snatching it from his grasp. “Get off me, now.” you command, pushing him off you. You know he let you when he moves away effortlessly. If he wanted to keep you trapped, he would.

“You’re so easy to tease.” he smiles.

You ignore him completely as you stand up. He watches you intently as you pull open the second drawer of your nightstand so hard the entire cabinet shakes. He tries to steal a peak of whatever other treasures you might be hiding in there, but you kick it closed before he can torment you any further.

“Awe, you’re no fun. Not gonna let daddy see what other toys aren’t good enough? Can show you how to use ‘em when you’re missing me.” he grins, he gets closer to you. Close enough to smooth his hands over your sides as you glare down furiously at him. You grab his hands, basically throwing them back at him.

“You are such a dick all of the time. I actually can’t stand you; I hate you.” you tell him, knowing yourself it’s a weak response even for you.

“You’re always such a good fuck when you’re pissed off.” he smirks, he takes off his shirt and throws it aside. You do your best to keep eye contact with him, not wanting to let your eyes wander and rake over his chiselled body. He sees you steal a few glances; he knew you wouldn’t be able to resist. “Stop bein’ such a brat. Don’t be embarrassed, daddy thinks it’s cute that you touch yourself.”

A black silhouette in the drawer is stuck in your mind. Despite your cunt growing wetter and your thoughts becoming cloudy, you can think of nothing else. He is a dick. And part of you does fucking hate him. So, you open the drawer again. He doesn’t watch you, this time, he’s more focused on reading your body language now. What are you thinking? What’s on your mind?

“’m really pissed off, daddy.” you tell him with confidence. His body stiffens like a corpse as you pull a gun from the cabinet. A Glock 40. He does all he can to maintain his composure, to remain control of the situation and of you. But it’s clear he’s worried. He’s never seen you like this before, ever.

But he knows you. He knows what you’re thinking before you even do. He can read every little muscle pulling on your face. It doesn’t matter if you’re trying to look angry, he knows what you look like when you’re really angry. You’re pissed, sure, but you certainly aren’t capable of doing any real damage with that thing. Not on purpose, anyway. And definitely not with the way your hands are fucking trembling.

“You gonna kill me, baby?” he asks.

“I might.” you tell him, you can feel the way your hands are shaking while gripping onto the gun. There’s no question he’s noticed, too. You’ve made a declaration by standing here like this, willing to toy with his life as well as your own. You can’t just put it away and pretend nothing happened, you need to make some kind of statement or you’ll never here the end of it.

He’ll ridicule you ‘til his dying breath.

“How?” he asks, getting closer to you. You back away, but you’re against the wall before you know it. He sits on the edge of the bed, his feet planted firmly against the ground so you know he can lunge at any moment.

“I’ll shoot you…” you speak, he hears an unintentional warble in your voice, and you can see the fucking smirk stretching across his face at the sound. You fucked up, he knows you don’t have it in you. But he’s probably known the whole time.

He grabs your wrist, and you yelp. Your eyes widen in horror as he moves your hands so that the gun is aimed at his chest.

His heart.

“Here?” he asks, and it’s so casual, you think you might throw up. You want to protest, to snatch your hands away and tell him to stop being so stupid. But you can’t, you can’t give into his mind games now. You can’t. Your hands are tremoring as he moves the gun again, resting it right between his eyes. “Hm… here? Probably the quickest. Won’t leave much mess if it gets stuck in my brain.” he explains.

“Stop it.” you mutter, he can feel the way your hands are trying to get free from his hold but he’s much too strong. “I’m s-sorry, stop it, please.”

“Could make me swallow a bullet too, but I don’t think you’re gonna shoot me anywhere.” he smiles, forcing you to aim at his perfect, gleaming teeth. “Where the fuck did you get this anyway? You really are stupid.”

“My dad gave it to me!” you inform him, and you’re aiming at him with new courage and will. “I know how to use it; I have a license.”

“Your pussyof a dad got you this?” he laughs.

You shove the gun against his teeth, not taking kindly to him insulting your father unprovoked. He looks up at you with a heavy-lidded gaze, he’s never been so attracted to you, really. Seeing you do all you can to stand up to him but both of you ultimately knowing you will never truly be a match for him, it’s quite interesting. Arousing, even.

He widens his mouth, allowing you to slot the black chamber between rows of white. The blinding contrast is almost enough to make you consider what you’re doing. Are you sure you want to do this? You are dangling his life in your quivering hands, after all.

“I should make you choke on this.” you whimper a little, a tear finally rolling down your cheek and giving your true cowardice away. You aren’t going to hide it this time. There’s no point in trying to clear away what he’s already seen. And you have no intention of holding a gun with just one hand when you’re already so shaken up.

He grabs your wrist, shocking you, but you don’t falter. You watch him carefully as he sinks his mouth down the chamber until it hits the back of his throat.

You hate him.

You hate how easily he can take any ounce of power you feel over him and turn it to nothing but a grandiose idea. A fleeting thought that you could make him tremble and weep before you. Maybe even apologise and promise to change because he’s the one scared of you for a change. But you should have known he’d never let you have that over him.

Hell, he won’t even let you embarrass him.

“I should fucking kill you.” you start to cry, thinking back to how he’s treated you tonight alone. He hasn’t even broken a fucking sweat. You thought you might be able to humiliate him like this. Making him choke and sputter around the gun like he’d made you with the dildo, just to see heat sear through you and add to the already burning shame you felt having been caught.

But instead, you watch him as he takes the gun as far as he possibly can. His stare is still lidded and hazy with lust and adoration for you. He does it a few times, repeatedly, and somehow still with a fucking smirk on his face.

He holds your hands still, pulling away from the gun as an obscene amount of drool pours from his mouth and down his chin. And then, he finally does begin to hack up choking breaths. Despite it being almost entirely on his terms, the feeling of cold, hard polymer clogging up his airways proved to be too much for even him to withstand for too long.

“Did you really think you could embarrass me like that?” he asks, sincerely. “You really are pathetic.”

“Megumi I—”

“Good thing you’re daddy’s stupid little girl, my pretty li’l airhead.” he grins, snatching the gun away from you. Your back slides down against the wall as you watch him fiddle with the gun, pulling out the magazine with a sadistic fucking snarl on his face. “The safety was on the whole time. And there aren’t even any bullets in here. You’re s’fucking stupid. It’s adorable.”

“I can’t do this anymore.” you sob into your hands. He watches you for a moment, not an inkling of remorse lingering in his body as he sees you crying inconsolably. You feel his fingers dig into your arms and pull you towards him.

Quiet protests die the instant he throws you down onto the bed. You’re underneath him once again, but you feel even more trapped as he shows no intention of letting go of the gun. He aims it between your eyes and you can’t stop crying.

His choking was unrelenting in the taxi.

And now he has a weapon that could end your life in an instant.

But would he? Is he capable?

“I’m sorry… I love you, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” you weep, you don’t think you’ve ever cried so loudly or so hard in your life. You wouldn’t be surprised if a vein was bulging in your forehead, and you can without a doubt feeling a migraine bursting through your brain. But you can’t stop, you can’t stop crying. “Megumi I love you, I’m sorry.”

You know it’s empty and you know the safety is on because he told you so. And Megumi is always honest with you, isn’t he? And still, you’re panicking. You’re worried that he’ll pull the trigger and somehow wills a bullet into existence simply because he often gets what he wants in life.

He keeps the gun aimed at you until your head is resting on the pillows still remaining against your headboard. He’s donning a facial expression you’ve never seen from him before. A stoic yet somehow manic stare as he watches you cry and plead for your life beneath him like he’s some sort of God.

His expression doesn’t falter as he turns the gun and aims it at his temple. You’re screaming now. You dread to think what your neighbours think. It’s not like they’ve never heard you two fighting and fucking before, but it must be concerning for them to hear.

“Megumi I’m sorry! Please!” you wail, fear stabbing through you as you see him begin to shake. You close your eyes, expecting the worst yet still begging with him to see sense and stop this.

He lowers the gun again, his eyes wander to follow it as he drags the cold weapon between your clothed tits and down your body. You shudder as you feel him use it to move up your dress and exposes your still bare cunt, having not moved your panties back into place.

You feel the chilled polymer dip between your folds.

“P-Please…” you beg, hoping he won’t put it in you. Your eyes screw shut as he moves it, sliding it through your soaking flesh again and again as butterflies soar through your stomach. He pulls the trigger, the vibration almost assaults your clit, despite the empty clacking filling the room. “Hnnff—”

“You’re so wet f’me… or is it just the gun? Is it turnin’ you on, princess?”

“N-No, please. I don’t wanna play with it anymore, d-daddy.” you tell him, each hitched breath you take scratching your throat. Your cries still evident as you gasp and plead with him to finally stop. You should never have pulled it on him, you should have known he’d do this.

He moves from you, opening the drawer you’d taken it from and puts it back inside. Even though it’s gone, out of his reach, you end up crying tears of relief as he places gentle kisses against your forehead and cheeks.

“You’re such a good girl, y’know? Did so well… proud of you, baby.” he whispers, and you hate yourself. You hate yourself because you’re brimming with confidence after he tells you he’s proud. Your heart crescendos to a place you know there’s no going back from now. Even after almost threatening to end your life; you’re still in love with Megumi Fushiguro.

You’re too tired.

Emotionally exhausted and physically defeated. There’s no fight left in you anymore as you feel him carefully peel away your dress from your body. He rolls the top down to your midsection, exposing your breasts to him and your still hardened nipples. He does the same with the skirt, fully revealing your glittering cunt and what a drippy mess he’s turned you into.

No one makes you wetter than he does.

He pushes your thighs apart, and lightly spanks your pussy to steal a quiet whimper from you. It’s not a punishment by any means, he just wants to make sure you’re still here with him. Still relishing this moment. Still honoured by the fact he’s even giving you the time of day to play with you like this. To satiate the burning need to be toyed with until your mind goes blank. He’ll do it for you, and it’ll take no time at all.

He kisses down from your left knee towards the apex of your thighs. He’s admiring his handiwork on your body as he does. Purple bruises he left you before your last fight have begun to turn greenish yellow as they heal.

You love his little reminders of who owns your body.

He hurts you so good. And you wouldn’t feel conquered without the bruises that his tenacious touch bestow upon you. You sink into the mattress as his tongue laves over the doughy skin of your thigh, reminding you where every single bruise is.

You gasp, back arching off the bed as you feel him insert a thick long digit into your sopping entrance. He’s slow, prodding and twisting deeper and deeper. He can make you cum like this, and you think you might gush as he teases the sweet spot buried within.

“What are you—?” you start, watching him push your legs further apart as he suckles at your clit. You feel the fingers on his free hand trace along your skin, the sensitive bruises almost pulsating beneath his touch. The way your head throws itself back seems like an out of body experience. An involuntary response to the way his finger pokes harshly into a particularly nasty looking bruise. “Hnng— fuck, daddy!”

He spanks your clit before swiping over it rapidly with the tip of his tongue. Your fingers lace between black tendrils of hair and pull as you deliquesce into the empyrean feeling that only his tongue has ever offered you.

Your mind is stripped bare as he continues his assault. Manipulative fingers push carelessly yet purposefully into your ageing bruises to extract those ethereal moans from your weak little throat.

“’m gonna c-um, daddy.” you groan, eyes fluttering white as he presses harder into your marked body.

“Show me.” he whispers, breath fanning across your sex as he speaks. “Show daddy how a slut cums.”

Every inch of your body feels tarnished and stained by him. With him. A cloying film embedded to your skin that is purely the work of Megumi Fushiguro. His insults as well as his loving touch. The fear as well as the adoration. Even his eyes ravishing you with nothing but a salacious stare leave their mark on you.

His tongue doesn’t stop as your cunt begins to spasm. He feels how your pretty pussy pulsates against his greedy face. You cum hard and coat the lower half of his face in a shimmering gleam. He’s loud, unable to hide his pleasure as he begins to hump into the mattress at the sight of you coming undone for him. It extends your own pleasure, hearing how fucking noisy he is purely from giving you head.

You hate him.

He’s so vile.

But you can’t help wanting to make him proud.

You can’t stop feeling proud when you’re a good girl for him.

And seeing him like this makes you think that he might actually love you. His eyes are definitely dotted with hearts, now, as he savours the taste from devouring your essence. There are two words lodged in your throat. Two stupid little words that you would do anything to choke down and forget right now. Maybe he won’t care, not when he’s like this. Not when he’s pussy drunk and utterly enamoured by your mere existence.

“Kiss me…” you almost suffocate as you speak, tears spilling down your cheek as your cheeks burn with heat and shame. Your eyes scrunch closed, preparing for a barrage of insults from him. You know he’s going to call you stupid, pathetic. Maybe even an airhead again.

But it doesn’t come.

He finds his strength, holding his body up on his knuckles as he drags his body up yours like a wild beast. He lowers himself, his lips locking perfectly against yours before he cups your cheek. Why isn’t he always so soft and gentle with you? You feel yourself cry more as he swipes his thumb softly across your cheek as he kisses you. His tongue teases yours, licking it and smiling when you can’t quite keep up.

You know he loves you.

Why else would he do this?

Why else would you allow this?

He pulls away, familiar green eyes staring into yours as he studies you. They’re intimidating, clinquant. The most beautiful eyes you’ve ever seen. He wonders if you know he thinks the same about yours.

“You want me to put it in, don’t you?” he asks. He chuckles softly as he notices you nodding before he’s even finished his sentence. Your eyes are pleading and desperate, and he’s never been one to deny you of him when you’re so needy and polite. He stands on his knees again, unbuckling his belt slowly while he examines you. The way your hips roll in anticipation, the way you’re biting your lip and forcing yourself to not allow your fingers to dip between your thighs to toy with your clit. It’s too much. It’s too long to wait as he undoes the button and pulls down the zipper. You’re almost salivating when he finally frees his cock. “Missed me that bad, hm? Missed daddy’s cock, didn’t you?” he asks, ignoring the fact he knows the answer is obvious.

“Y-Yeah…” you struggle to speak. To think as your mind runs rampant with so many sex flashbacks you have; courtesy of the very cock you’re ogling. It’s thick with gorgeous veins and flushed with the prettiest shade of pink you’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing. “Need it— need your daddy cock.” you tell him, your chest jittering with hitching breaths as you try and maintain some semblance of composure.

You’re far from composed.

You’re nothing more than a mammal, burning with a white-hot intensity from trying to control your basic instincts. The primal urge and need to fuck. He’ll help you, though. You never need to worry about those needs being neglected while Megumi has nothing but you on his mind.

The pleasure is blinding as he presses his tip against your entrance. He pushes and pushes until he’s fully sheathed in your welcoming cunt. His cockhead rests at your sweet spot, and you know he’ll waste no time in forcing your vision to white out as he fucks you.

His fingers wrap around your throat, the prettiest necklace you own, and he squeezes tight. It’s not without reason. It isn’t just to give you more bruises or to cut off your air supply. He wants to keep you focused. Focused on him. He dips his head down to slot his tongue inside of your mouth once more. It’s a sloppy, drool induced kiss that shows no signs of stopping as he rocks his hips against you. His cock slamming deep and hard against your g-spot.

You can’t talk.

The only words that swirl around your brain are expletives anyway.

His kiss is suffocating and so is his grip on your neck. He releases you, slightly, giving you the chance to breathe once more. You can barely sense where you are, you don’t know if your eyes are open or closed as the only thing occupying your mind is his cock slamming into you and bringing you to your second release of the evening.

You’re brought back to reality, though, as he lightly taps your cheek a few times before slapping you hard.

“L-Love you, daddy.” you pant, you moan for him again and again until drool leaks from the corner of your mouth. You don’t care, you don’t even notice. And the sight is making him feral as he realises how there’s truly no one for you but him.

There’s no one for him but you, either.

“Fuck.” he grunts, knowing he’s going to cum sooner than he’d anticipated. He could stop fucking you, of course, but he can’t think of a worse fate. He wants to cum. He needs to cum inside of you and flood your pretty insides with his seed. He needs to make his mark on you and remind you who you fucking belong to. “’m cumming, baby, auh—”

“D-Don’t stop!” you warn him, desperate to reach your peak with him. You try to keep him in place, your legs wrap around his back and your fingers claw into his porcelain skin. He groans, quietly, hissing as you drag your fingers across his back deep enough to draw blood. He doesn’t mind, how could he when he leaves you covered in bruises at any given opportunity? If he marks you, he owns you. If you mark him, you own him.

And he wouldn’t want to belong to anyone but you.

“S’perfect… so fuckin’ perfect f’me. Unnff— oh, oh fuuuuuck.” he finishes, still pistoning his hips to fuck his sperm deeper inside. He’d knock you up in a heartbeat if you let him. Not because he wants to be a dad. Not because he wants to have a family with you. But he wants everyone to know you’re his. He continues to moan as he imagines you with a big swelling bump and everyone knowing that he is the cause.

You can’t ever leave him.

He’ll go mad without you.

“Such a good girl… look so pretty when you cum on daddy’s cock.” he tells you. He dips a hand between where you’re joined and rubs torturous circles into your throbbing clit. Your body jolts relentlessly from the aftershocks, unable to withstand the teasing.

His touches slow, and he pulls out as you begin to catch your breath. Your breathing deepens as you feel him part your pussy with two fingers so that he can watch his seed drip out of you and onto the mattress below. He smiles, brimming with pride that he did this to you. That no matter how much you claim to hate him, he’ll always be able to do this to you.

He collapses by your side. He’s staring up at the ceiling as your bodies shine with sweat and sex. He’s panting, loudly, with the biggest smile on his face you’ve ever seen. You’re staring at him. Trying to understand what actually goes on in that fucked up head of his.

But you never will.

So, you stare up at the same ceiling as he is and keep your thoughts to yourself. Where does this leave you, now? You never said you were back together, but you think he might have already decided.

But it was always going to end up like this.

You kick up a fuss and banish him to his dads house. But he always comes back. Always. And it’s because you want him back. Because you are too weak willed to stay away from him and do what you know is right. You could move on. You could fall in love with someone that doesn’t play mind games and make your life miserable.

But you love him.

You’re so stupid, because you love him.

“I love you, Megumi.” you whisper.

He’s quiet, he’s thinking.

“I know.”

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