#I keep changing my mind about it ten times a day | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mercy-burning · 3 months ago

Text

…I Wonder

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Reader becomes a full-time nanny to three-year-old Benjamin, but what she doesn’t realize is just how hard the job will be— not because of the child, but rather her growing attraction to his father. Category: Mature (18+) Content: adults with age gap, drinking, dry humping, oral sex (both receiving), fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, “little girl” nickname, cum play, praise Word Count: 11k (idk how this keeps happening lol)

MASTERLIST

NOTE: This fic is titled after and loosely inspired by "Pony" by Ashley Monroe. It's not required listening, but obviously I recommend the song. It's been a favorite of mine since I was a teenager obsessed with Dean Winchester, so... that probably explains a lot about why I am the way I am... LMAO anyway, enjoy <3 I had a blast writing this one!!

———

ACT I: If I Had A Baby...

The first job I ever had also happened to be the best job I ever had. I was twenty years old, and I found an ad in the paper searching for a full-time nanny to a little boy. I didn't think anything of it, other than I desperately needed the money and I didn't mind babysitting. A few years out of school with no plans to attend college and no solid idea of what I wanted to do with my life, I wasn't sure if I'd even get hired. I was almost certain that no one would want a college-aged kid with no stable ambitions or previous job experience, but I was desperate. And CPR-certified.

It was a start. A shot in the dark.

By some miracle, Spencer Reid apparently was also desperate enough to be willing to take a chance on me.

He explained over the phone that he was away more than he'd like to be, and even if he tried to work from home, doing FBI work and raising a toddler alone at the same time was nearly impossible. I agreed to an interview, absolutely elated that I had a foot in the door and the bright beacon of hope for some sort of routine. Something to occupy my time and something to care about, to care for.

I was expecting the work to be... not hard, necessarily, but I wasn't naive enough to believe that taking care of a child was a walk in the park. There would surely be tantrums or bouts of "I miss Daddy!" or refusal to eat what I made him for lunch... I knew going into these interviews that I would be signing up for a major responsibility that meant a lot, not only to Spencer but also to his child. I had to prove that I could do my job and do it well. That alone was a challenge, but one I was willing to work with. I was ready for it.

What I wasn't ready for, however, was the betrayal I felt when my brain failed to warn me of the possibility that he was not only a single father, but a hot one.

The second I showed up at his door and he opened the barrier between us, I swear it felt like the sun swallowed me whole and burnt me to a crisp. He smiled brightly and introduced himself, and I was done for.

"You must be Y/N! Hi, I'm Doctor Spencer Reid."

Doctor? So he was smart, then, too. Perfect. The Trifecta of Peak Hotness had been achieved. That instantly made this new job ten-times harder than I anticipated, and I hadn't even started yet.

I wasn't sure I could go through with it at first, but the more we talked, the more I relaxed, and I felt sympathy for him. He was a genuinely kind and loving parent who wanted the best for his son, a three-year-old named Benjamin who loved dinosaurs and airplanes and Cheeto Puffs. I didn't get to meet him that day, since he was with his Aunt JJ (who, the way Spencer told it, was most likely feeding his Cheeto Puff addiction as we spoke), but if the interview went well, I'd get to meet him in the next week.

I mulled over my options and almost decided not to show up for the next interview; to call and tell him I'd changed my mind or something, but it pained me to even imagine the disappointment in his voice had he asked me why. For whatever reason, the vivid image of a toddler pouting and crying to his father because he had to leave, and that no one wanted to care for him burned itself into my soul until I relented and just took the job anyway.

It was fair to at least meet the kid first, right?

Benny was insanely talkative— but not really conversational. Most of the time I tried to keep up, but his mouth was moving a mile a minute, and the conversation always ended up falling flat on my end, so I pretty quickly decided to give up and enthusiastically let him carry it.

He had his father's brains as well. For hours that first meeting, he sat there and read me passages of aircraft encyclopedias, and in between two random sections I politely requested that we move on to dinosaurs (which were infinitely cooler). And then, in that adorable toddler voice that made it impossible to be irritated, he looked up at me with wide eyes and said, "I read all my dinosaur books last week. This week is for airplanes."

Spencer looked like he was going to divert the conversation entirely, perhaps suggest that Benny do something else while we talked some more, but who was I to interrupt the kid's routine and crush his dreams? If I was going to be his nanny, then I was going to have to make him like me. Right?

So, I nodded like I'd never considered it and encouraged him to keep going. To which he did, very happily.

Spencer seemed happy, too. He was always delighted to see Benny when he came home from work, but there was something about the way he relaxed and perked up all the same at my first interactions with his son that twisted my gut. What that man was filled with at the sight of me wasn't just joy, but hope, too, and regardless of where that joy and hope came from, it was an incredibly dangerous thing to notice as a young woman.

It was way too easy to fall into daydream territory. I was alert and attentive when watching Benny, of course, but the second Spencer walked in and completely knocked the wind out of me with that joy and relief radiating from his perfect smile, it was like a screw came loose in my brain and turned me into a feral, horny beast. And then I would return home, alone with my thoughts, and I couldn't divert them from the wild direction they took.

At first it was just your standard wet dream, a girl lusting over the older man she nannied for. It was purely pornographic and provided nothing but short-term relief until I saw him in person again, which frustrated me.

I almost thought about quitting, or saying I was looking into schooling so I could cut down on my hours, but...

That wasn't fair to Benny. He and I had actually formed a pretty stellar routine, if I do say so myself.

And every time I thought about leaving, I couldn't help but think about what I would tell him. Would I even tell him anything at all, or would Spencer just omit me from his life completely and give him an explanation in my place? Who would watch over him after I left? Someone old and mean who made him eat vegetables instead of Cheeto Puffs, and demanded he read to them about dinosaurs instead of airplanes, not giving him the option to develop his curiosity in whatever way he chose? Who would tuck him into bed on the nights his father was late or out of town, and would they sleep on the couch soundly and happily like I did?

I hated even thinking about it.

And then there was the first paycheck.

Truth be told, I hadn't even thought about the money, not after I met the boys and introduced them into my daily routine. I remembered Spencer telling me after my first day alone with Benny that he wouldn't get a paycheck to me until the start of the next month, and I was okay with it. Really, I was just focusing on trying not to drool for the entire conversation, but I digress.

Payment completely slipped my mind.

And then I showed up to do my job, and Benny was nowhere in sight.

"Where's the little guy?" I inquired, looking around and hearing nothing either. "He's usually waiting at the door for me like a dog."

Spencer laughed and concealed something behind his back. "He does really enjoy his nights with you... He's actually staying with JJ and her kids tonight, though. Our schedules opened up and she offered to take him for the night. I was going to call and tell you, but I wanted to give you this, anyway."

He handed me an envelope, folded over but not sealed. I took it with an, "Oh," unsure of what it was until I saw the corner of the check. It felt rude somehow to open it in front of him, but his presence was so overwhelming anyway, especially being alone with him, that I needed something to occupy my hands and my thoughts and just about everything else I had in my possession.

At first, I thought it was a joke. A prank. It was too good to be true; He was just messing with me and would hand me a fifty-dollar bill on my way out for my trouble. Surely, if not that, then it was a mistake.

I didn't know how long I'd stood there, staring at the paper with whatever expression was all over my face, but it must have been too long and too concerning because Spencer sounded worried when he asked, "Is there something wrong?"

I blinked for a moment, then finally had the courage to look him in the eye, my mouth completely dry. "You are not giving me five-thousand dollars right now."

"Well... No, technically, I'm giving you a check for five-thousand dollars. What you do with it and when is completely up to you, but... You deserve it. Y/N, you've been a Godsend, and Benny and I are lucky to have you around. Thank you. Very much."

I didn't even think about it. It was an insanely kind gesture, and I was in such a state of shock and gratitude and mind-numbing attraction to him in that moment that I leapt forward and flung my arms around his neck, tears stinging my eyes.

He hugged me back tightly and laughed, allowing me to cry my thanks into his shoulder as we nearly tumbled into the coffee table.

ACT II: If I Was A Lady...

The months flew by, and before I knew it, it was Benny's fourth birthday.

Spencer and his friends heavily involved me in the planning process, a gesture that surprised me, but that I obviously would never be thankful enough for. It's not like I hadn't ever known a loving family or anything, but they were all so warm and welcoming; it was like I'd been friends with them my whole life. My chest bloomed brightly with every laugh and every hug, and I don't think I could have been any happier. I felt like I belonged there.

It was a day, and night, I would never forget.

Everyone had left, and Benny was fast asleep in his bed. Spencer and I looked down at him with smiles so bright, if they'd actually radiated any light the poor boy would have woken up.

"Ah, the cake coma," I laughed quietly, Spencer guiding me out of the bedroom. I couldn't stop giggling even as we walked—Admittedly, I was a little buzzed on champagne. Still, Spencer laughed with me, and we sat down on the couch. I could tell he was exhausted, but happy.

"I still have to clean all of this up..." It was more of an amused I'll-do-it-tomorrow statement, but I had this drunken simmering need to please him so badly that I shook my head and hit his arm.

"No. That's my job. I'll take care of it, you just take your beautiful ass right to bed, you hear me?"

He raised an eyebrow but laughed at me anyway, clearly amused by my banter. "Maybe I shouldn't have allowed the underage drinking after all..."

"Oh, please. I'm not even drunk, just a little loose. Besides, I'll be twenty-one in a couple of months anyway."

"Mmmm."

I hadn't realized how much closer we'd gotten until just then, when he hummed and looked me over. I could feel his breath on my face, and our limbs were just barely touching. Suddenly it was like my entire body was numb, sizzling everywhere we touched, and the champagne had become a part of my bloodstream. The fizz was all I knew, all I was.

Spencer's eyes found mine, and they didn't look away. They pulled me in slowly. I was powerless to stop it, not that I'd ever want to...

In fact, I very eagerly melted into him the second our lips found each other. My head swam, my fingers started tingling, and I was very aware of every movement we made. I straddled his lap, and he welcomed me with open arms, pulling me flush against him as his tongue darted out swiftly to taste mine.

I couldn't believe it was actually happening. Every few seconds I kept thinking to myself, this feels like a dream... It has to be a dream... Between the pent-up attraction I'd been accumulating for him over the last few months and the alcohol that loosened me up and dissolved any ounce of common sense I possessed, I felt like I was in a different world entirely.

He hardened underneath me and my nerves went nuclear, instinctively forcing my body to roll over his. I ground my hips, aching to feel that sweet friction that I'd only felt once before with another man— so long ago and so unbelievably dull in comparison to the sensations I was feeling in Spencer's lap. I was only barely experienced with sex, but I was experienced enough to know that I didn't have anything to be nervous about; This man would take good care of me. I felt it in my bones.

The thought alone sent my body into overdrive. I whined and rolled my hips relentlessly, wishing I was completely bare and feeling him so deep inside me that his absence would leave me haunted. I wanted to feel him forever. I wanted him to ruin my life and claim me as his own, until there was absolutely nothing left of me.

His hands cradled my head reverently as he continued to kiss me deep and slow, raising his hips up to meet mine and aid in getting me off. The gentle tugs of his fingers through my hair and the warm hums of encouragement he offered to my mouth as I climbed higher and higher towards that precipice of pleasure made me weak. I felt so fragile in his arms, like I was meant to be right there, allowing him to guide me wherever. I would have done anything for him, anything so long as he kept holding me and making me sigh—making me glow.

"Fuck—I'm gonna come," I exclaimed in a broken whisper, breaking apart from his mouth to bury my face in his hair. He brought his hands down to my hips then, groaning as quietly as he could into my neck as he helped me rock back and forth across his lap.

It wasn't an earth-shattering intense orgasm by any means; there wasn't nearly enough stimulation for that. But I was so wet and aroused that even the low, quick and burning pleasure that shot through my core for a few seconds was enough to satisfy me. I wasn't in any position to complain.

That was, of course, until I reached down to touch Spencer's belt, and he pushed me away. Not aggressively, but his hands—which had been so gentle and welcoming just moments before—had gone rigid. Frozen and firm, like he'd just been scared half to death.

He scrambled out from my reach and put so much distance between us that I went cold. My name tumbled from his lips in a regretful sigh, and it stung.

"We can't ever do that again."

"Okay," was all I could manage to say. I was still tingling all over, like my whole body had fallen numb and was now just warming up to the idea of having senses again.

"That was irresponsible. And I'm too old for you."

"M-hm," I agreed absentmindedly.

"You should go home."

"Okay."

"I'll call you a cab."

"Thank you."

I went home that night with a deep twist in my gut that wouldn't go away. The rejection hurt. It scared me, too, wondering if I'd still have a job when I woke up in the morning. Was that the last time I would ever see Spencer? And Benny? Had I really just screwed up the best thing that ever happened to me?

I barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I was back on Spencer's couch, getting myself off in his lap and reveling in his embrace. I woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, hating myself for being so reckless, and even more so for not regretting it a single bit.

After I was finally able to get a solid couple of hours of sleep, I had a text message from Spencer waiting for me when I woke up.

I sincerely apologize for last night. The job is still yours, but I also understand if you don't want it anymore. Take a few days, whatever time you need, and let me know.

I was relieved, of course, but also deeply curious to know how we would keep things professional after something like that. I guess I was just mostly surprised that he was willing to, considering he seemed pretty rattled by it.

Still, If he was willing to try, then so was I.

I'm sorry, too. I wouldn't give up you and Benjamin for the world. All is well?

He texted back almost immediately; All is well.

It only clicked into place a few months later, once the initial shock of our "escapade" had faded away and we could return to business as normal. Because, really, the truth was we couldn't return to business as normal. We tried, but he never looked me in the eye for longer than a second at a time, he refused to touch me in any way, careful not to even brush my hand as he handed me my monthly check, and his small talk was even more painful than it had been previously.

Still, I continued to be Benny's nanny—and best friend, according to Auntie Penelope, much to her dismay. I still loved that kid more than anything in the world, and I still, unfortunately, wanted his father to kiss me again.

I was willing to let it all go, though, to admit that it was a silly stupid crush that could never come to anything and just deal with it like an adult, and then I had to overhear the motherfucker when he came home one night. I was resting on the couch, about to open my eyes when I heard the door open, but then I heard a voice that wasn't Spencer's. It was his friend, Luke.

Spencer cut him off then. "Quiet, please."

There was shuffling, keys being set down, and then a small laugh as they got closer to me. I didn't move a muscle, focusing only on my breathing. "Right. Don't wake the hot nanny, got it."

"She's right there," Spencer hissed, and I tried not to laugh. My insides flared to life as he added, "And I asked you not to bring that up..."

"Oh, come on, Reid. You have the hots for her; big deal. It's normal."

"So? I'm... I'm technically her boss, and she's far too young for me. It's not right, and you know that."

"Whatever. You do what you think is right, man, but I'm telling you; Ignoring it is only going to make you more stressed."

Spencer mumbled something incoherent, and the two shuffled off into the kitchen for God-knows-what. All I could think about was that he wanted me. It was probably killing him just as badly as it was killing me not to give into each other again. My mind was racing, my heart beat violently in my chest, and I knew then that I had to pretend to wake up or else I'd sit there and burst into flames.

I had to leave. I had to do something; What, I didn't know, but this revelation had me reeling and feeling a myriad of things, and I needed to sit with them, preferably alone so I wasn't tempted to just jump him on the spot.

"Did we wake you? I'm sorry." Spencer's kind voice warmed me from the inside out as I shuffled into the kitchen to say goodbye.

I quickly gathered my things and avoided his gaze. "Oh. No, you didn't. If you're back for the night though, I'm gonna go home. I'm exhausted."

"Little guy was that rambunctious, huh?" Luke joked.

I smiled and gave him a wink. "Oh, no. He was an absolute angel, as always. His daddy raised him well. Goodnight. See you tomorrow, Doctor Reid?"

He cleared his throat, rasping out, "Yes, tomorrow. Goodnight."

"Night."

I tried not to run mischievously out the door, willing my legs to be normal. But the second there was a tangible barrier between us, I bolted to my car, high on adrenaline and unable to wipe the smile from my face; I was wide awake.

Eventually, though, I realized it would be absolutely stupid to do anything about it. Did it boost my ego and my mood? Absolutely. It also softened the blow of his avoidance and his initial rejection that night; All of his behavior made much more sense. Sure, I was a little disappointed that he wouldn't entertain our mutual desire, but as long as it was there... It couldn't be that bad, right?

Wrong.

I'd gotten a text from him earlier in the day, asking if I could come over last minute to watch Benny. I wasn't going to say no, obviously, but when I got there to see him dressed up, I shot up an eyebrow.

"A little fancy for work, yeah?" I told him, hanging my keys up and listening for Benny.

"Oh, I'm... not going to work, actually. I, uh... I have a date."

I froze. I panicked. I didn't know what to do, what to think, or how to react. Naturally my thoughts immediately jumped to the worst-case scenario—visions of Spencer sleeping with another woman, someone older and not a nanny. Someone who was distinguished and well-read and smart, someone like himself. Someone who was more inherently right for him. It... made me sad.

Admittedly, I felt stupid even thinking that way. It wasn't my right to dictate his dating life, no matter how badly I wanted him; I knew what he tasted like, knew how it felt to come undone in his embrace, and yet I wasn't entitled to him solely based on that.

Still. It doesn't mean I had to like it.

"Oh... Um... Good for you," I told him, nodding and turning away in case he tried to profile me. "Have fun."

He said goodbye to Benny a few minutes later, and then gave me a polite, transactional wave on his way out the door. It shut, and it felt like my chest was collapsing.

But I was only able to wallow for a few seconds. Benny tugged on my sleeve and looked up at me quizzically.

"Auntie Y/N, are you sad?"

His sweet face lifted my spirits like it always did, and I didn't have the energy to think about the other emotions that were swimming around in my chest anyway. So I smiled at him and picked him up, shaking my head. "Not anymore, kiddo; I get to hang out with my favorite person!"

We spent all night munching on Cheeto Puffs and building Lego sets, and it was unsurprising to me that by the time I'd finished one, Benny had finished three. Still, our sets combined to make a larger one, and then we were able to give the people names and backstories and adventures.

Either time passed very quickly, or Spencer didn't last very long on his date, because the front door opened and I was surprised he was home before I could put Benny to bed.

"Daddy!" he exclaimed, running and dropping his half-eaten Cheeto Puff in my lap. I laughed and tossed it in the trash can on my way to the door, greeting Spencer, who was hugging his son tightly and making him giggle profusely.

"You're home early," I observed as he set him down.

"Had to make it home before curfew, of course." A joke. He was deflecting. I kind of hated that I felt relief at the insinuation.

"Of course," I agreed.

"So, what did you guys do while I was gone?"

Benny jumped and grabbed his father's hand. "Auntie Y/N and I made a whole Lego village! It has a library!"

"It does?" Spencer asked bending down to his level and positively beaming. The sight made my chest tighten.

"It really does! Do you want to come see?"

"Oh, absolutely. I just have to talk to Auntie Y/N first, and I'll be right in, is that okay?" He nodded and Spencer ruffled his hair. "Okay. Say goodnight."

Benny turned and ran to me then, and I squatted down to hug him. "Goodnight, Auntie Y/N. Thank you for building with me."

"Oh, you're welcome, kiddo. You're an excellent building partner; The best in the business."

He laughed and scampered off to his bedroom, and as I stood up, I felt Spencer's eyes on me. I couldn't decipher what the feeling was on his end, but regardless, it burned a hole through me and made my heart pound in my ears.

"How'd it go?" I asked casually, dusting Cheeto off my jeans. Did you do it just to forget about how much you want me? Did it work?

He shrugged and leaned against the counter with a lazy smile. He almost looked exhausted. "I'd have much rather liked to be at home with my boy and his best friend to tell you the truth."

My heart was racing, and I couldn't help but wonder what he was getting at. Was he fucking with me? Or was he simply telling the honest, innocent truth, while I was letting my lust take the drivers' seat and go searching for some insane imaginary intention to help along my hot-single-father/nanny fantasy?

Suddenly, I was the one who felt exhausted, and Spencer could tell. He shifted and continued talking. "Thank you again for staying with him on such short notice."

"Oh, anytime. It's what I'm here for. In fact, feel free to go on all the bad dates you want."

I don't know why it came out of my mouth, but I was glad that Spencer laughed. Still, I scrambled to get my keys and walked past him to leave, kind of embarrassed by the verbalized impulsive thought regardless.

His hand grabbed my arm gently before I could leave, and my heart caught in my throat. I dared to look up at him and immediately felt that familiar heat return to my core, suddenly very fragile under the weight of his gaze.

He studied me for a moment before he let go of my arm and cleared his throat. "Goodnight."

I couldn't help the feeling that he wanted to tell me something else. He did say he wanted to talk to me before putting Benny to bed, after all... So, what? That was it?

It was stupid, and I should have just told him, "Goodnight," back, but those damned impulsive thoughts kept dancing on my tongue with reckless abandon, and I couldn't stop them from escaping. So, without another thought, I tilted my head and asked him instead, "Was she my age?"

Spencer stared at me, something darkening in his eyes when he responded, "No."

I threw back one of his considering hums, glancing down at his lips before looking him directly in the eye and giving him a firm, "Oh." There were plenty more things I could have told him, none of them appropriate. But I figured I'd already had enough pushing my luck for the night, and reached for the doorknob instead of dragging it out. The night would end like it always did, with a formal, professional farewell.

I was about to finally tell him, "Goodnight," but his hand came down very gently over mine and rendered me silent. Our eyes met once more, and a shiver ran down my spine.

"Even if she had been, she wouldn't have been you."

And then he opened the door for me, and I walked out without another word, my head spinning and my heart threatening to give out on me. He hadn't even kissed me, but he might as well have; I was just as breathless.

ACT III: He Is Nice, But He Looks So Mean.

I was actually littered with nerves walking in the door the next time I came over to watch Benny.

I hadn't heard anything from Spencer for a week, until he called and asked me to come over for the night to watch him while he went to work. I was going to do it with no questions asked, obviously, but because that insane confession was echoing in my mind on a continuous loop since it happened, I couldn't even bring myself to think about seeing him again and knowing... I had no idea what reaction my body was going to have to being in his presence again.

It scared me, but also deeply excited me.

Once my body had enough courage to step through the doorway, my heart rate sped up exponentially, and then upon seeing what was in front of me, it stuttered with a terrifying halt.

Warmth flooded my veins and brought a smile to my face when the four-year-old boy I nannied for and loved more than anything threw his hands in the air and yelled at the top of his lungs.

"Happy Birthday!"

He ran up to me and nearly toppled me to the ground, and on instinct, my arms reached out to pick him up as he hugged my neck and listed off the things he did to celebrate.

"Daddy said your birthday was yesterday, but we wanted to give you a party just like you did for my birthday! So we went to the store and got you ingredients for your cake, and we made it just for you!"

"You did?" I exclaimed, setting him down and letting him lead me to the kitchen where the cake was sitting out on the table, clearly homemade by two boys who didn't know the first thing about baking or decorating anything. Spencer was standing across the kitchen table with a proud, albeit I-know-it's-not-much-to-look-at smile, but I barely had time to thank him before Benny told me about the process, step-by-step.

As he went on, I nodded and admired the cake, complimenting the purple and green swirls of frosting (his favorite color and mine, he explained), and the trail of assorted candies in the shape of a stegosaurus in the middle (my favorite dinosaur).

"Do you love it, Auntie Y/N?"

I hugged him again with tears in my eyes. I tried not to actually cry, but the tugging at the back of my throat and the blurring of my eyes was extremely difficult to push away. I realized then, as Spencer watched me with his son and looked like he might have been ready to cry himself, that it wasn't worth trying to hide. I was extremely moved and even happier in that moment than I think I'd ever been. I loved that man and his child more than anything I'd ever known.

So, I blinked hard and let the tears silently descend down my cheeks, kissing the side of Benny's head as I told him, "I love it so much. And I love you so much. Thank you."

I looked up at Spencer and said it again. "Thank you."

He nodded, reaching for the star-shaped candle next to the cake. "You're very welcome. Benny, do you want to help Auntie Y/N light the birthday candle?"

The boy squirmed in my arms and I let him down with a laugh as he excitedly reminded us, "That's my favorite part of birthdays!"

"I apologize if you find an eggshell," Spencer warned a few minutes later, slicing the cake after the song had been sung and the candle had been blown out. He slid my plate over and handed me a fork. "Benny and I did our best to fish them all out, but it's... surprisingly harder than it looks."

As Benny nodded in agreement, I looked down at him and took a forkful of cake. "Oh, I don't have anything to worry about. I'm sure you two are excellent eggshell fishermen."

The four-year-old giggled, but his father sighed as if to say, Don't say I didn't warn you...

To no one's surprise but Spencer's, the cake was delicious. I may have played it up for dramatic effect, putting on a whole show as I chewed and considered every bite, playing as if I was unsure and really critiquing the dessert. I set my fork down and looked at Spencer with squinted eyes, then slowly to his son. The suspense was obviously killing him, his small limbs bouncing with anticipation and a smile that suggested he was going to urge the verdict out of me if I didn't announce it very soon.

I decided to spare him the wait.

"Benjamin Reid... That might just be the best cake I've ever had."

"Really? No eggshells?"

I laughed, reaching to give him a high-five as he beamed up at me with sparkling eyes and a wide-open smile. "Not a single one. You should be very proud of yourself. You and your dad, both."

Benny hugged me again, and I glanced over to Spencer, who was slicing another piece of cake and staring at me with that intense look in his eyes, a satisfied half-smile adorning his face. A rush of heat came surging through my bloodstream like a tidal wave, and I had to look away from him or I was afraid I'd collapse on the spot.

Benny didn't know it, but he was saving my life in that very moment, as the three of us ate cake together. I refused to look at his father. I needed literally anything else to keep me from even glancing his way, and my four-year-old best friend's rambling habits were the perfect focus.

He told me more about his process for decorating the cake, and while I was genuinely a little surprised at how much thought there really could have been with the task, with an ever-moving mind like Benny's, it was actually quite clear by the end of it. It charmed me to no end and filled me with pride to know that I'd had enough of an impact on him to trigger this level of detail and consideration. Again, it's not like I'd never had people who cared about me before, but when it came to the Reids, my heart sang a tune I'd never heard, and it was the most beautiful, brightly vivid sound I'd ever had the pleasure to hear—to feel.

I was thinking too much about it, letting the song swallow me whole as tears stung in the back of my eyes and threatened to fall again, when Spencer's phone buzzed on the table. The sound grounded and intrigued me, even more so when he glanced up at me for a moment, right before directing his words to his son.

"Benny, Uncle Will is outside. Is your bag ready?"

He jumped from his seat and nodded. "In my room."

"Okay. Before you grab it, say goodnight to Auntie Y/N."

I felt the toddler's arms hugging my legs, and turned all my attention to him, refusing once again to look at the man whose eyes I could feel burning me alive with something deeply ravenous, begging to be unfettered. I had a feeling, creeping over my senses like a thick blanket of ivy, that I wasn't making it up and letting my desire for him take the wheel, either; Just as the loving, family-friendly song in my heart had been—bright and vivid—this feeling was just as much the same in its intensity, only echoed with a sound that felt very much like those dark, low hums Spencer always emitted alone in my presence. I felt it all around me and hoped to God that I wasn't about to leave this place feeling like a hopeful, stupid idiot.

"Goodnight, Auntie Y/N. Did you like your birthday?"

"I did, Benny," I answered in earnest, ruffling his hair. "You're very thoughtful and kind. Thank you so much."

"I love you, Auntie Y/N."

I squeezed him tight and made sure he understood every word as truth when I told him, "I love you, too."

ACT IV: When I Grow Up, I Wanna Be Your Girl.

The apartment was quiet when Spencer took Benny outside to meet with Will. I did my best to keep myself busy, cleaning up forks and plates, and wiping down the counter tops while simultaneously ignoring the hammering of my heart against my chest. The organ wouldn't calm down, even as I hummed to myself. It's like those nerves that I had walking through the front door that night never actually went away— only subsided for a little while in favor of wholesome celebration.

Part of me wanted to flee, but I knew it wasn't an option. Not really. I had to at least talk to Spencer and thank him for the effort. Perhaps I was good enough of an actress that I could pretend to have been ignorant of his glances all night, or at least that they didn't affect me like he maybe wanted them to.

Catching myself in the act of overthinking again, I grunted and slammed a glass of water, willing the fresh liquid to wash away any insanity. There was no use going through all the possible scenarios in my head, not when there wasn't much time before Spencer returned. No matter what happened, I wasn't going to be prepared for it.

I certainly wasn't prepared for the way my heart practically leapt out of my chest when he returned, softly opening and closing the door. It took everything I had not to turn around and allow him to see how nervous I was. I kept my back turned, hoping and praying I wasn't visibly shaking as heavily as I felt. I was warm all over.

His presence behind me was dense and ever-present― almost suffocating. I took my time drying off the plates and forks I'd washed while he was away, hearing him rustle around without a word or acknowledgement of me, and then he finally spoke. I almost dropped a fork.

"Why are you doing my dishes, Birthday Girl?"

"My birthday was yesterday..."

He laughed and came up behind me, a gentle hand on my lower back as the other reached around and took the silverware from my grip. I relented, feeling myself numb at his touch and trying to steady my breathing.

"Yes, but we're celebrating today. In my household at least, that means you're not allowed to do any work."

I turned around to face him as he set the fork down on the counter, his other hand still hovering over my back. It returned to his side, disappearing into the pocket of his pants as I crossed my arms and looked up at him. Thankfully, despite the constant whirring of nerves and desire coursing through my entire being, I was able to hold a conversation without hesitation.

"You're not my dad."

Another amused grin. "No, I'm not. But I am your boss. And as your boss, I'm asking you to take the night off and enjoy yourself."

The way he was staring down at me seemingly punctuated his words with a gentle seduction that made me ache with need. I was getting stronger and bolder by the second, leaning forward just enough to be toe-to-toe with him.

"Okay, then, Boss... Tell me, are there any restrictions to enjoying myself in your household? Because..."

The second I heard that familiar hum rumble from his chest, I knew I was in danger― glorious, beautiful danger. His eyes glanced down at my mouth for a second before returning to my own, his body leaning into mine and his free hand reaching out to trap me against the counter.

I tilted my head and brought my fingers up to toy with the tie hanging from his neck. "I am all grown up now, after all..."

"And I suppose you know exactly what you want..."

"Mm-hmm," I drawled, pulling him in closer by the tie. Our lips were barely touching by that point, and I felt my head start to pulse with anticipation as he urged me to go on.

"Well?"

"I want to be yours."

He hummed again, pushing his body to mine and bringing the pocketed hand up to hold the side of my head. "Mmm, Darling, you always have been."

And then he kissed me.

He tasted like sugar, but his intentions were anything but sweet. His mouth devoured mine with a fire that threatened to turn me to ash. Every sense I had was alight, engulfing me in a heat so intense that it was all I was sure to know for the rest of my life. It's all I wanted and all I needed.

I met his intensity with eager hands, exploring the planes of his body as his tongue did wicked things to my own. This time I didn't even need the champagne; I was dizzy on Spencer alone. The fizz boiled me from the inside out and urged my limbs to cling to him like it was my life's purpose. Hell, for all I knew, it was my life's purpose― to burn for him and let him consume me. To revel in his dancing flame and allow it to become my life force. I wanted it more than I'd ever wanted anything.

And I was sure to let him know that, too, refusing to hold back the string of whines and moans that escaped me every now and again. The hand that had been resting on the counter behind me came down to grip and hike up my thigh, our hips colliding just as beautifully this time as they had the last. The memory caused another wanton sound to tumble from my mouth, and Spencer caught it greedily, pulling back for air long enough to squeeze my thigh and sing me a praise of his own.

"God, I love the sounds you make..."

His lips were on mine again before I could respond, but I didn't even need to. Not verbally, anyway; I guided his hand down the side of my face and over my chest, pushing my body into him and feeling his fingers tighten. His kisses grew hungrier, and suddenly I was starving.

I was finally able to break away from his mouth in favor of tasting the skin and stubble along his jaw. Then, I buried my face in his neck and reached for his belt, praying he wouldn't jump away like last time.

Thankfully, he didn't. His grip on both my breast and my thigh tightened again, but he didn't pull away from me. His breath didn't even hitch.

I took that as a good sign and slowly undid his belt. The sound alone was enough to send a jolt of excitement between my thighs, though the visions dancing behind my eyelids of what I planned to do in just a few moments helped my pleasure immensely. I dragged my tongue softly along Spencer's neck before freeing the belt and sinking to the ground alongside it. His hands fell away from my body and chose to root in my hair instead. The gentle tugging at my scalp admittedly made me stumble, but not out of discomfort; I was actually quite surprised at how much I liked the feeling.

Spencer noticed, humming again with amusement as I went back to tugging down his pants. Still, he said nothing, instead watching me intently as I continued my journey.

I didn't hide the desire I felt as I palmed the length of him through his underwear. In fact, I couldn't decide if I wanted to keep my sight leveled or to angle it up at him, because it was a damn good sight either way; The sensual nature of my fingers gently caressing him, knowing what was resting beyond that thin layer of fabric and imagining how it probably felt to him, or the thick and domineering air between his face and mine, his gaze committing every movement I made to wicked memory...

With a sigh, I opted to lean forward, ignoring the sharp bruising on my knees and putting all my focus into the task at large.

Spencer seemed to tell I was thinking too much, gently massaging my scalp and cooing, "Have you ever done this before?"

Yes, but... "Not with anyone I've actually wanted this badly..."

"Mmm, that does make a difference..." he observed. "Whatever it is that you need to be comfortable, Y/N― tell me. Okay? Promise me you won't hurt yourself in any way just to please me."

A surge of heat exploded through me at the intensity of it all. He was sincere, and by the sound of things, sympathetic to my overthinking. It was another show of just how much I wanted him to guide me, to hold me in his comforting, knowing embrace and show me exactly how life should be lived. Every life experience there was to know, I wanted to know it with him.

"I promise," I told him firmly, not breaking eye contact as I tugged at the cotton between us.

His eyes struggled to stay open when I finally gripped his cock, feeling the weight of it in my hand and bringing it to my mouth. I glanced down then, taking in every ridge as it disappeared slowly down the length of my tongue. I reveled in the taste, in the fullness I felt the deeper it went, and once it hit the back of my throat and caused me to choke and pull back, I angled my eyes back up at his face to find the most heavenly sight I'd ever seen.

Spencer watched me all the time. I was no stranger to his intense gazes. But when I looked up at him that time, his mouth open and eyes so deeply darkened with need that they could have drowned me, I truly thought I might have died and entered the afterlife. Perhaps that was dramatic, but there was no other possible way for me to describe the feeling that coursed through me in that moment. Suddenly I was chasing it, longing to be in that state of euphoria forever, and my mouth eagerly went to work in pursuit of it.

I took my time, exploring the ways he could fit in my mouth and the ways my tongue could cover the length of him. I went in search of any pleasure point I could find, occasionally looking up to gauge his reaction and finding nothing but those beautiful, salacious pools of liquid gold.

Eventually, I was brave enough to take him to the back of the throat again, holding him there and seeing how long it would take before I felt the air leave my lungs. I repeated the process a few times, stroking him with my hand in between gasps of air and shivering at the way he tugged my hair. My vision was starting to blur, but I persisted, aching to know what he tasted like as he came undone.

Unfortunately, it wasn't in the cards for me to find out that night.

I whined as he held my head away from him, praying he wasn't backing out.

"Stand up, please," he asked softly. It sounded like he'd been breathless, and maybe he had. The thought that I had that effect on him calmed my nerves and made me dizzy as I stood, and his hands cradled my head once again.

"You are so good," he whispered, kissing me deeply. I melted into him, only for him to pull back and continue his praises. "So beautiful..." Another toe-curling kiss, and then, "So perfect."

My eyes fluttered shut as his mouth moved over my jaw and to my pulse-point. "My good, sweet girl," he murmured, and the words caused me to clench around nothing.

"Please."

The word fell out of me with a whimper and at its urgency, Spencer's mouth attacked my neck with a gentle, hungry bite that sent a shiver down my spine.

"Follow me."

And I did. I always would.

As much as I would have loved the opportunity to look around his bedroom and make banter about what I discovered on any normal day, my brain was so overwhelmed and numb with desire that the thought hadn't even crossed my mind.

Not that I would have had the time to think about it anyway; He was on me the moment my legs touched the edge of the bed, devouring my mouth once more and pulling me into his atmosphere with fervor. Willing myself to get even closer to him, I brought my fingers up to thread through his hair and was rewarded with another gentle tug of my own.

Suddenly I was extremely hot, squirmy and anxious to break free from the confines of clothing, and Spencer could tell.

He broke apart with a laugh, bringing a hand down to trace the collar of my shirt. "Have you no patience?"

"You're the one sucking my face like it's the end of the fucking world," I breathed when he shifted the collar and exposed more of my skin to the air, earning me another low grumble of a laugh.

"You're not complaining are you?"

"God, no."

"Mmm, good," he hummed into my cheek, reaching down and tugging my shirt over my head. The fabric caught on his nose for a second, bringing a laugh to the surface of my tongue before he swallowed it with another kiss and tossed the shirt to the ground.

Warm, nimble fingers spanned my bare stomach and thoroughly explored the surface area of me, up and up until they slipped under the backside of my bra.

"Is this okay?"

I pushed myself into him and nipped at his bottom lip. "Yes, Doctor."

Goosebumps littered my arms as he deftly unhooked the bra and slid it off my body, and I barely had time to take a breath before he was kissing me again, pawing at my chest and slipping me his eager tongue. My senses were on overload, that hot pang of need pulsating between my legs as I then fell backwards, letting him lay me down and settle himself between them. His kisses traveled lower, tongue darting out to flick over my peaked nipple, and I involuntarily arched up into him.

No one had ever paid this much careful attention to my body before—It was always a quick pleasantry to get out of the way before the main course. But the way Spencer held and touched and tasted me felt like a crash course in intimacy. He was still hungry for me, obviously, but he made it feel like it wasn't just about the destination. He savored each and every second of the moment in all its pent-up, beautiful glory.

Which is why, when he finally slipped a hand down the front of my pants, he seemed delighted to find that I was practically soaked through my panties already.

His middle finger pressed firmly at my clothed heat, and I sighed into his mouth.

"Look at what I've done to you... Poor thing. You're just aching to be filled, aren't you?"

My head had no choice but to arch backwards as I moaned into the open air at his words, my legs clamping around his hand. "God, Spencer, please..."

"So I'm not wrong, then?" he mused, teasing me some more and just barely pushing the fabric aside. I squirmed and lifted my hips, trying to guide him in the right place, but he pulled away from me then, leaving me cold.

Only a second later did the heat return; Spencer stood at the foot of the bed and gently helped me scoot to the edge. He removed the rest of my clothes and stared down at my bare figure as he unbuttoned his shirt, debauchery settling in his eyes as they raked over me. With careful consideration, once his shirt was on the floor with the rest of my clothes, he came down and caressed my inner thigh, slowly spreading my legs apart.

"You're so wet and needy, I'm willing to bet you don't even need me to prep you..."

All it took was one lithe finger to prove his theory correct. It slid into me with ease, and I whined out at the contact. One finger swiftly became two, and after a few slow pumps with no resistance, he seemed satisfied. "Mmm, that's what I thought... You've been ready for me for a long time, haven't you?"

"Uh-huh," was all I could manage under the circumstances. Every word and every touch was rendering me incapable of anything more complex.

He removed his fingers from me then, and leaned down to nudge my nose with his own. "How are you feeling?" he asked me in a whisper, fluttering a gentle kiss over my lips as his cock barely teased my entrance. It was such a simple question, but it only deepened the desire I felt for him— It was gentle and attentive and intimate...

"Never better," I responded earnestly.

"Yeah?" he cooed. He pushed into me slowly then, and I gasped at the pressure. "Are you ready to take it?"

"Uh-huh," I stuttered once more, crying out silently when he finally bottomed out and ground his hips in a slow circle against my own.

"Tell me what you want, little girl," he begged sweetly against my lips. "Please, I need to hear you say it."

I gripped his shoulders and pulled back a little to hold his gaze, almost gasping out again at the way his hips pinned me down. It was difficult to form the perfect sentence, but I figured I didn't really need to say much at all― only the whimper-y, pathetic truth, which was, "I want you so bad..."

"As you wish."

The words barely left his lips before he began to move, hooking my legs around his forearms and spreading me apart further. He fucked me deeply, and with a steady pace that knocked the wind from my lungs and already had me seeing stars. That had never happened before.

Spencer could tell, a grin forming on his face as he freed one of his hands and softly traced my jaw. "Better than you thought?"

Absolutely. But there was something about that cocky grin on his face and the lilt in his voice that made me want to be difficult. I struggled to talk through heavy breathing, but I managed to choke out, "Don't... flatter yourself."

I don't quite know what I expected, but it was a bit of a shock to me when he hooked his thumb into my mouth and pressed down gently on my tongue, quickening his pace inside me and making me gasp out again.

"Aw... Are you not enjoying yourself?" he pouted without a single hint of sincerity; He knew I was.

I cried out and involuntarily closed my mouth around his thumb, my insides burning alive at all the sensations coursing through me. My cunt clenched around him, and he cried out himself, laughing softly as he did so. "That's what I thought..."

I wanted to watch him the way he watched me, to study his features and his movements and take it all in with reverence, but he was too fucking good at this. He was so skilled in the art of rendering me senseless, all I could do was lay there and take it. He gave himself to me in the most intimate, soul-crushing way, and I wanted to bask in it forever.

His other hand snaked along the inside of my thigh and held me open for him as he looked down, watching himself fuck me. I barely caught glimpses of his wandering gaze, wondering how he could be so focused when it was taking everything I had to stay cognizant. I blamed it on my lack of experience with good sex, and silently vowed to myself that one day I would return the favor.

Until then, I would lay at Spencer's mercy and take pleasure in the simple fact that he was willing to give me this― to give me a piece of himself that would no doubt ruin any other partner. He was setting the standard and exceeding it simultaneously. He was kind and caring and considerate. He was thorough and thoughtful.

And he was making me come. Hard.

The orgasm hit me out of nowhere, my body stuttering in quick, pulsing flashes of pleasure that got stronger and stronger each second. Spencer fucked me through it with ease, never missing a beat. His thumb slid out from my mouth and down my chin, allowing me to cry out for him all I wanted, which, seemingly was his goal.

"That's my good girl," he breathed, his voice tight. Perhaps he wasn't as put together as I thought. "Let it all out for me... Please..."

Please... God, that word sounded so good falling from his lips. It echoed in my mind as I gave him what he wanted, though not from choice. It was like his movements and his words were designed specifically to draw the sounds from my body. I would have given them to him anyway, but I didn't have to try, and that was the magic of it all. He knew exactly what would keep me mewling through the most intense pleasure of my life, and I was more than happy to allow him the pleasantry.

His orgasm came at the tail-end of mine, and though I was steadily growing tired at the exertion, I found the strength to clench around him again, recalling how he'd reacted before. I reached for his hand and allowed him to lace our fingers together as he came with a loud shuddering sigh.

Finally, I was able to focus, another chill running its course through my nervous system as Spencer pulsated inside me. His movements faltered as he spilled over, filling me so deep that I had no choice but to gasp again. My name sounded heavenly on his tongue as it danced in the air behind curses and sighs, and suddenly I understood why he enjoyed hearing my sounds so much. The warmth that bloomed in my chest as I watched and felt and heard him come undone above me delivered me to the most prideful of feelings.

I watched as his face relaxed, felt as his body eased and fell away from mine, and before I had time to even think of what to say, he was moving, kneeling at the end of the bed and spreading my legs again.

Oh, my God...

I couldn't even tell if I said the expression out loud, but I certainly felt its gravity in my bones, low and reverberating as Spencer inspected his work.

His fingers barely caught what had leaked out, and then his tongue followed suit, licking a gentle hot stripe up the seam of me. My fingers clutched at the comforter underneath me, searching for any sign of stability as my senses started to lose control once more.

"Darling," he praised, kissing the inside of my thigh, "you took me so well..."

I was halfway through telling him, "Thank you," when he started licking at my clit, making me stutter. He took his time, tasting me thoroughly while filling me with his fingers. Between drowning in the residual pleasure of my previous orgasm and also in the sounds he was making below me, it wasn't long before another one approached. It was sharp and quick, making my back arch up off the mattress as Spencer sucked my clit into oblivion.

Rather than incoherent cries of pleasure, the only thing that dared to leave my mouth at the sensation was a very loud, very appropriate, "Fuck!" to the evening air.

The curse tumbled out over and over again as the orgasm rocked through me, and he pulled himself away from me at the end of it with a shit-eating grin. "Such a dirty mouth..."

It took me a few seconds to catch my breath, shivering as he climbed back up on the bed and laid beside me. "You're one to talk, Doctor."

"I guess I'm a poor influence. Sorry."

It was mostly a joke, but I could tell that he believed there was some truth to his words. I did my best to reassure him, not only because he was my boss and I needed to reinstate the idea that we both made the decision to sleep together, not just him, but also because I secretly hoped he wouldn't regret the decision at all— regret me. Selfishly, I wanted to know if he'd consider keeping me around as more than just a nanny. I wanted to know if there was even a slight chance that this wouldn't end in total emotional disaster.

"You have nothing to be sorry for... Nothing..."

Spencer studied me for a moment, something settling in his eyes that I couldn't quite place, but it felt... warm. It was a different warmth than the searing heat that his gazes had radiated before. Perhaps it was wishful, foolish thinking, but I almost imagined it feeling akin to the realization that you were falling in love— the type of warmth that terrified yet excited you all the same, that triggered your nerves and also gave you hope.

It reminded me of that dangerous, beautiful hope that lingered in his smile every time he'd come home from a long day at work to see me and Benny safe and sound in the comfort of his home.

His hand gently brushed mine, I laced our fingers together, and that's when he finally responded.

"Neither do you, you know... I meant what I said. Every word." His fingers tightened in mine, and I felt myself become breathless again. "You're perfect. And I'm lucky to have you."

"You're just saying that because it's my birthday," I joked, trying to keep myself from crying in front of him. I didn't know why that was so important to me, especially considering just a few hours ago I'd decided not to hide the truth from him, no matter how emotional and teary of a truth it was.

Spencer pressed his forehead to mine, sighing my name through a smile. "You are... the best thing that has happened to me since Benny. I was afraid to admit it at the start, but... You're so good to him, and so good to me... I genuinely don't ever want to know what life would be like without you."

I couldn't help it then. My vision was suddenly obscured by tears, and I was blinking them away, letting him capture my lips in a tender kiss that rivaled any other.

I prayed in that very moment that there would be more like them in the future.

CODA: All My Rings Will Be Made of Gold.

Turns out, there had been plenty more, and then some.

It's hard to choose a favorite, though obviously I'm quite biased when it comes to my boys. So, I suppose it's easy for me to recall the night I got engaged as my favorite.

I wasn't nannying for Benny anymore; He was in school during the day (Kindergarten! I cried dropping him off on his first day, and Spencer had to console me with kisses and ice cream), and by that point I'd been moved into the apartment for almost a year.

I was out grocery shopping, and when I came home, there were flowers all over the floor, bright colors scattered in an obvious trail that led to the bedrooms. I didn't quite understand what was happening, but my heart still hammered in my chest, unable to shake that feeling of warmth and hope.

"Boys? What are you up to?" I called, dropping the bags off in the kitchen and following the flowers.

They were both kneeling on the floor of Benny's bedroom, Spencer with an open ring box in his hand, and Benny with a piece of paper in his.

"Will you be my mom?"

Really, how could I have said no? There isn't a world in which I ever would have, but even still. Benny was unable to sit still, waiting for me to answer him, and I remembered the night they presented me with that first birthday cake of many for years to come. He was the same way then, happier than ever to surprise me, and meanwhile all I wanted to do was burst into tears over how much love I was feeling.

Unlike that night, however, I was simply unable to tease him with the anticipation of an answer. I couldn't even pretend to consider it, not for a moment. It was the easiest answer I'd ever given. To this day, it still is.

Benny ran up and hugged me the tightest he ever had before, and Spencer got up from the ground to meet us, slipping a thin gold band on my finger as I repeated the word to him through the tenderest of kisses.

"Yes."

THE END.

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader smut #mercy after hours

2K notes · View notes

lemonlover1110 · 5 months ago

Text

𝐀 𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

Zayne

Pairing: Zayne x f!Reader

Summary: The rain ruining his plans might have been the best possible luck.

Warnings: MDNI, Fluff, Smut, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Creampie

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“It’s raining.” You point out, face nearly pressing on the window as you stare outside. It was going to happen sooner or later, the dark clouds had been adorning the sky the entire day, yet the day went dry.

“Raining?” Zayne sounds surprised, as if he hadn’t been staring at the same dark sky a couple of hours earlier. He stands up, walking over to look out the window as if he didn’t trust your word. You swear you hear him sigh when he confirms that it’s indeed raining.

“Is everything okay? Is our date still on?” You look at him, worried about his reaction. He wants to say that the rain will be over in ten minutes and the plans are still on… But it doesn’t look like it’ll stop any time soon.

“The rain is going to make things more… Difficult.” Zayne answers, not wanting to give up on the date idea just yet. There is no hope though, you can’t go stargazing when it’s storming out. You stare at him, trying to study the look on his face– A task that’s difficult since the man does a great job at suppressing any trace of emotion. “Maybe we have to change a couple of things.”

From now on he will leave the dates to you and only you, because the one time he plans something it’s ruined before it even begins. It’s what he gets for trying to be romantic, there’s a reason you’re the one that usually takes on the role.

“Like?” You ask, and he isn’t sure how to answer. He already had everything planned out, and he put his all to the specific date so now his brain is empty. The lack of answer makes you chuckle. “So we’re staying in?”

“Unless I get a reservation in time.” Zayne reaches for his phone to look up restaurants nearby, trying to salvage the night but you snatch the device from his hands. He raises his brows, wondering what you have in mind.

“Let’s stay in. We can cook something, play a couple of games… Other stuff.” You respond, and Zayne fights back a smile. It’s great to have someone pick up his slack. “I found this new recipe that I’ve been dying to try.”

“Tell me what you need, and I’m on it.” He says, and you can’t help but smile. He’s willing to do anything when you have his attention.

“I think we have everything, I just need you to chop up some stuff.” You tell him, and he nods in response. He’s not a great cook since he barely has the time or energy to make his own meals, but at the very least he’s great at chopping up stuff. “You can be my sous chef.”

“Yes, ma’am.” There’s a subtle smile on his lips, and it overflows your heart with joy when you notice it. You wonder why he smiles but it’s never unwelcome. Especially from him.

You kiss his cheek before telling him, “Let’s get to work.”

After nearly burning the house down trying the new recipe, you surprisingly end up with a delicious meal on your table. You’re enjoying your meal, too busy stuffing your face to keep up a proper conversation. You don’t need to talk either way, each other’s presence is enough to satisfy any need for interaction. Though Zayne can’t help but comment,

“Surprisingly it doesn’t taste burnt.” Which makes you roll your eyes. He can’t help but bring it up when you told him a million times that you had it under wraps.

“I told you I had it handled.” You respond. “Or do you not have faith in me, Dr. Zayne?”

“Dr. Zayne?” He raises a brow, and you hum in response. He lets out a low laugh before answering, “I do have faith in you… But I am allowed to draw some conclusions when I see a flame coming from the pan.”

“That wasn’t a flame.” You argue, and he slightly shakes his head.

“Then why did the fire alarm go off?” He points out, and you puff out a breath. You cross your arms, your appetite gone because your boyfriend won’t allow you to have the last word. He never does, and it might be his only defect. He couldn’t be perfect.

“Next time I’m leaving the cooking to you then.” You pout. He doesn’t want you to feel bad for the light fire, it could happen to anyone plus you were cooking a new recipe.

“You’re a far better cook than I am.” He responds, hoping that it’ll make you feel better. He’s staring at you, trying to decipher what you feel based on the expression on your face. You only stick out your bottom lip, clearly not happy with what he’s said.

What did he say wrong? He said all the right words, you should be gleaming not… Looking disappointed.

“Only because you don’t have time to pick up the skill, if you did then you would be saying something far much different.” You end up telling him, and he takes a moment to look at your face. He’s not sure how to answer. He ends up by telling the truth,

“Probably.” And the moment the word leaves his lips, he realizes he couldn’t have picked a worse answer. You look absolutely mortified, and he doesn’t know how to deal with it.

“Probably? You’re not supposed to say that.” You say, and he gives you a subtle nod. He’s not supposed to tell you the truth then.

“What am I supposed to say then?” He sounds ever so serious, and one swift look at his face makes you think that he is, indeed, serious.

“No, I doubt it. You’re the best cook ever, dear.” You end up answering, almost laughing at your own response. You see a twinge of a smirk on his face, and you feel like you’ve accomplished something. He lets himself loose around you, and often laughs at any stupid joke that you make, but it still feels rare when you actually see him smile.

“Alright then, so not the truth. Simple.” He answers, and the smirk that comes to his lips doesn’t fill you with pride like it usually does. You puff out a breath and he says, “Repeat the statement.”

“No.” Your answer is firm, therefore he won’t bug you to do it. He’ll drop the subject.

You two continue eating, and for once he’s the one that makes most of the conversation. He should apologize, he should’ve chosen better words.

“If it makes you feel better, the one time I plan a date… It starts to rain.” Zayne hopes that by admitting his own failures, he’ll make you feel better. You can’t help but chuckle.

“That doesn’t mean that you suck, it just means that the weather isn’t on your side.” You reassure him, face turning to look out the window. The rain still falls, much harder than before. “Plus I’m enjoying the date. Well, I was before you–”

“In my defense, I was initially complimenting the dish.” He argues, and you can’t help but laugh. A petty argument from a compliment. Though you’d argue that it was backhanded, Zayne isn’t all that great with words– Unless it’s with him coming up with a witty comeback, or of course, explaining medical terminology.

“How about you start cleaning up while I look for a game we can play?” You change the topic as you finish up your meal. Zayne immediately nods, more than willing to fulfill the task that you’ve assigned. He begins to clear the table, and you stand up to look for the games that are hidden away. Games that you’ve gotten to play with him but you’ve never had the time to actually sit down together and figure out.

You look for something that’ll make the night more fun, and also something that you have yet to play… But you still land on an old game. Something that gets both of you competitive. You end up pulling an old game that you’ve played a dozen times with him. A game that makes you want to break up with him, but when you make up it’s a memorable night.

You set up the table with the game, and wait for Zayne to finish up in the kitchen. You’d offer to help if he was doing any other task, but you aren’t going out of your way to clean up, even if it is to help your amazing boyfriend. Maybe you can take a peek at the cards as you wait for him to come back to the table.

“Okay, I’m ready.” Zayne walks back to the table, grabbing the cards that you definitely didn’t take a quick look at, and shuffling them. “Who’s going first?”

“I am. I don’t trust you while playing kitty cards.” You respond, and he hands out two cards. You frown as you look at them, knowing that you’re starting off on a bad foot. Your assist cards can help you make a comeback, so you’re only praying you get lucky with that.

“I should be the one saying that, I saw you look at the cards.” He lets out a low laugh as he gives himself three cards. He takes a seat across from you before commenting, “Given by the look on your face, you didn’t get all that lucky.”

“I’m going to win. Mark my words.”

Though you’re as competitive as you can be, luck simply isn’t on your side. Zayne doesn’t help your case, using every card that he has, against your favor. You glare at him with every move he takes, and he smirks, proud of his every move.

“Can you leave me alone? I barely have any points, there’s no point for you to null my card.” You complain, and Zayne shakes his head.

“I have to take every possible precaution.” He answers, putting down a card that takes away your turn– And if that isn’t horrible enough, he takes away one of the kitty cards that you’ve put down. “Last time you won, I heard about it for weeks.”

“Last time I lost, you also heard about it for weeks. Matter of fact, we almost broke up.” You point out, and you watch as the corner of his lips turn. He’s trying his best to fight back a smile, and you have to roll your eyes. “And if you keep up with your act, we might actually break up.”

“It’s just a game of kitty cards.” Zayne says, which makes you glare at him. You cross your arms, a scoff leaving your lips. Just a game of kitty cards? The game becomes a very serious matter when you’re as competitive as you are.

“If you don’t take it seriously, then you should let me win.” You claim, and Zayne knows that unless he stops playing, your date will completely go sour. He just fixed matters after his unnecessary comment, he can’t let himself nearly ruin the date once again. He could try to let you win, but at this point there’s no way you can make a comeback. Plus, it’s not satisfactory for him.

“How about we stop.” He suggests, and you know you can’t win.

“Fine.” You answer, a hint of attitude in your voice just so he notes that you’re not happy with him.

“What were we going to do today?” You ask him, beginning to clear the table. The sight of the unfair game is keeping you mad, so it’s best to clean up. Zayne joins you.

“Stargazing.” He responds, which perks up your eyebrows. Where exactly? “It’s a place not too far from here that gives a perfect view of the city, and I thought it’d be a nice date. I bought a couple of snacks to have a late picnic, but the universe isn’t on my side.”

“That is such a cute date!” You comment, eyes looking out the window to see that the rain has calmed down. “We can still do it.”

Zayne looks in the same direction. It’s not what he pictured, but it’s not a bad idea.

“Just for a minute.” He grabs your hand, fingers intertwining with yours before he guides you outside. Your anger is long forgotten when you feel his large hand lightly squeezing your own. There’s still some light rain when you exit the place, but you aren’t staying outside for too long so it’s not an issue.

“Look, there’s a full moon.” You immediately point to the sky. The clouds had been hiding the moon all night, and now you finally get a chance to glance at it. “Just look at it, it’s so beautiful.”

“It really is beautiful.” He answers, though his eyes aren’t looking at the moon. His thumb traces lazy circles on the back of your hand, as he finally looks up at the sky. Stargazing is a dumb date if you aren’t going to the countryside. In a way, he’s glad his plans were ruined.

You look back at Zayne, a foolish smile coming to your lips. Stargazing would’ve been nice, even if you don’t get a great sight, laying next to him for a whole night is the type of date that you need. You don’t even need to talk, each other’s presence is more than enough for you to be satisfied.

“Why are you smiling?” He finally looks back at you. It’s not a complaint, he’s overjoyed to find you smiling. He just wonders what’s going on in your mind. Two fingers come up to his face, brushing away the hair that’s on his forehead before you get on your tip-toes to press a kiss on it.

“You are so cute.” You tell him, and he chuckles. Out of all words that you could’ve picked, cute is the one that he least expected.

“Cute?” He responds, and you hum in response. Nevertheless, it’s a compliment so he’ll accept it. He smiles back at you, gaze getting lost into your eyes. You have the most beautiful eyes he’s ever seen, maybe that’s the reason he’s so desperately in love with you. “Cute. I’ll take it.”

“Let’s go inside before you get sick.” There’s a mischievous smile on your lips as you say the words. He’s the one that usually says the phrase, but the tables have turned. Zayne lets go of your hand, hands falling on your waist before pulling you closer.

“Let’s enjoy the moment a little longer, I don’t mind getting sick.” His nose brushes against yours, his eyes looking into yours ever so lovingly. His supple lips land on yours, pulling away within seconds. “It’s barely even raining.”

“Just a minute then.” You tell him, and he nods in response. However, Zayne doesn’t care to look at the sky. Apart from the full moon, there’s nothing that’s worth noting.

He loves the feeling of the rain on his skin, every droplet is a subtle reminder that this is real. He’s living in the moment. What’s happening right now is not a fragment of his imagination. The way you look at him, the way you laugh, the way your hands wrap behind his neck– It’s all real.

“Okay, we should go now. I don’t want you to get sick… And I also don’t want to get sick.” You say, and he smiles. He lets go of you, allowing you to go inside without an issue. You’re not going inside without him though. You grab Zayne’s hand and drag him inside, knowing that if he gets sick, you’ll end up getting sick as well.

“I’m going to get changed.” You tell him, and he mindlessly follows. He’s seen you naked many times, there’s no need to be shy… Except he is the one that gets shy at the mere thought of seeing you naked. He’s already flustered at the idea of you getting changed; but he still follows.

“What do you want to do now? Watch a movie?” You ask him, getting to the room. There’s a sudden increase in temperature– Or is it just Zayne? Why does he feel hot?

“A movie… Sounds fun.” He swallows thickly, watching as you begin to lift up your shirt. His cheeks turn pink at the sight of some skin, but you never take off your shirt. You notice he’s staring, and you fight back on smirking.

“Do you have something else in mind?” You watch him step towards you, ever so slowly. He’s hesitating. Should he? He doesn’t want to turn the sweet night into something… More. But he does.

He wants to feel every inch of you, and frankly, the shirt that you have on outlines everything which doesn’t really help. Maybe he’s a pervert for the thoughts that creep into his head, but it’s hard to think differently when you look like this right before him.

Before you know it, Zayne’s lips land on yours, tongue exploring your mouth before it finds your own. His tongue presses against yours while his hands desperately try to take off the damp clothes that cover your body. Very skilled hands struggle, nerves overtaking him at the thought of feeling your body. An action he’s done many times before, but he turns into putty each and every time.

You’re not as nervous though, hands going to his belt and unbuckling it without an issue. Your hands go into his boxers, feeling him up which makes the man pathetically whimper into your kiss. He can come undone from a single move. And even when your hands are wrapped around his cock, he’s too nervous to touch under your shirt.

You pull away, a string of saliva connecting your lips until you pull far enough that the bond breaks. You take off your shirt, and Zayne is watching you as if he were a teenager all over again. Cheeks burn red at the sight of some skin, it’s truly pathetic. It’s not just some skin though, you’re getting completely undressed in front of him.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He’s dumbfounded, it’s as if he’s never seen this before. This is nothing new to him, but it always feels like the first time… That’s a good thing, right?

His lips land on yours again, though he takes more risks this time as his hand fondles your breast. His lips don’t last long on your mouth, choosing to kiss down your neck, before his lips land on your breasts. His lips kiss every inch of your skin before his tongue circles around your nipple.

It’s nice, but you need more. Your body is begging to feel every inch of him. Luckily for you, it’s as if Zayne can read your mind.

“I need to taste more of you. Please.” There’s desperation behind his eyes, it’s as if he needs it. You get on the bed for him, legs spreading without a shame in the world.He stares down at you and he licks his lips. Maybe this is how he should’ve led the date in the first place.

“You’re so gorgeous.” He says as he gets on his knees. He kisses your inner thigh, working his way up. So gentle and shy, but he doesn’t want to get ahead of himself. Doing things slowly is what makes this more exciting.

“Smells so sweet.” He finally gets to your pussy, the tip of his nose pressing against your clit before he kisses it. His lips feel so soft on you. He kisses your clit again before his tongue begins to flick it. Tastes even better than he remembered.

Sweeter than he could ever imagine.

Low moans escape your lips as you feel his tongue work on you. The sound of your voice is perfect, all the motivation he needs to do this. It’s his reward for the night, and he couldn’t be happier. It’s perfect. You’re perfect.

He kisses your clit, two long fingers running through your folds to gather your slick. Once his fingers are lubricated enough, he slowly pushes them in. He begins to suck on your clit and your eyes roll to the back of your head. You moan his name, pleasure already consuming you.

He curves his fingers so they hit just the right spot. You bite down your lip, feeling embarrassed at the thought of being too loud. He’s looking up at you, and the look on your face is something he wants to have ingrained in his memory.

His fingers pick up speed, and your hands grip the bed sheets. Pleasure consumes you, your climax slowly overtaking your body. You’re moaning his name again, unable to contain yourself as sex clouds your mind.

“That’s it, baby! That’s so good.” You can’t help yourself as your boyfriend hits all the right spots. It’s music to his ears. Even when he’s been congratulated for his many achievements, this is the best thing he’s ever heard.

Your breath gets caught up in your chest, your body quivering as you finally reach your climax. Zayne pulls out his fingers, tongue continuing to lap at your cunt until he’s finally satisfied. He presses a kiss on your clit when he’s finished.

“I need you, baby. Please.” You say, and Zayne can’t afford to waste another moment. It hurts to even think with the uncomfortable feeling that’s in his pants. He walks to the nightstand to get the bottle of lube before giving all his attention to you. He gets undressed before getting on top of you.

“Are you sure you want this?” Zayne asks as he pours the lube all over his dick. Maybe he should consider some sort of protection, but he needs to fully feel you. He needs to feel every inch of your body.

“I need you, please. Give it to me.” Your voice is enough to drive him wild. He runs the tip of his cock through your folds before slowly pushing himself into you. He bites his lip, not wanting the pathetic noise that leaves his throat to be audible. You feel so nice and warm around his cock, so fucking perfect in every single way.

“It’s so good.” He mutters, eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head as he feels you around him. He bottoms out, stopping to give you time to adjust.

“Move.” You tell him, and Zayne begins to move with slow thrusts. His eyes focus on your face, watching as it contorts with pleasure. It’s hard for him to not get nervous when you look like this, so fucking perfect.

“You’re so tight.” He says, hands gripping the bed sheets. Your legs wrap around his waist, hands going to the back of your neck to push him down. Your lips meet his in a messy but passionate kiss.

You drive him insane.

“You’re doing so good, baby.” You praise him, and you hear a groan come from his throat. His thrusts pick up speed, slowly losing himself inside of you. All composure comes undone when it comes to you.

He watches your hand move down your torso, and before you can even finish your thought, his hand takes over. His fingers play with your clit, doing everything just right. Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, moaning his name over and over again.

“Fuck.” He curses, a word that rarely leaves his lips. But what else can he say when you’re squeezing around him? He shuts his eyes, too overwhelmed by everything that goes on. Your hands go to his back, nails digging into his soft flesh which makes him moan– The slight pain heightens the pleasure.

“Zayne, I’m gonna–” You begin, pleasure overtaking your body as another climax approaches. Zayne hits all the right spots, he simply knows your body too well.

“I know, dear. I know.” He’s out of breath. He’s close too. It’s just too much for him to handle. But you’re one step ahead of him. Your nails drag along the skin of his back as pleasure gets the best of you. You see white, finally reaching your high.

“Good job.” He praises you, knowing that he’s not going to last much. You’re just too much for him, which in the context, is a wonderful thing. His thrusts get sloppy, getting more vocal by the second.

“Can I finish inside?” He asks, and you frantically nod your head, not even having the words to say yes. You pull him into a kiss, and he groans into it as he releases his warm cum into you. A dragged out sigh leaves his lips when he pulls away from the kiss.

He stays buried inside of you, not wanting to leave your warmth just yet. He stares into your eyes for a bit, getting lost in them once again. There’s a certain spark in them, one that he’s noticed only appears when you look at him. The same spark that appears in his eyes.

“Can we cuddle?” You ask him as he pulls out of you. He lays down beside you, turning his head to look at your sweaty face.

“Clean up first.” He says, though you don’t listen and nuzzle up next to him. He rolls his eyes, but he still wraps his arms around you. “I admit, this is much better than stargazing.”

“We could’ve done that there too.” You respond without missing a beat, and his face gets completely red. He definitely wasn’t imagining that. He supposes that you could’ve, but it wouldn’t be as special– It would be even more special, it just would be indecent.

“I like it better here.” He tells you, pressing a kiss on the top of your head. “It’s warm, and there’s no bugs around.”

“You’re right.” You chuckle. “Could you imagine if a mosquito bit you–”

“How about I run you a bath?” Zayne cuts you off, knowing that the question that’s about to leave your lips is absurd. He doesn’t want to hear it.

“Will you join me?” You question, getting off him. He takes a moment to look at you before nodding in response.

A bath sounds nice.

1K notes · View notes

prettyboykatsuki · 5 months ago

Text

call it quits or call it destiny | h. umemiya.

✮ tags ; afab + fem!reader(she/her pronouns, referred to as a girl, gets dressed up by tsubaki and kotoha), reader gets their hair braided (no desc of texture) and puts on makeup, lore heavy reader backstory + personality, deliquent!reader, gap moe, best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, themes of insecurity, mutual pining,the use of she/her for tsubaki, jealousy, confessions, loss of virginity, creampies / unprotected sex, oral (f!recieving), fingering, 18+

✮ wc ; 13.9k (dont. don't say anything)

✮ a/n ; me when i completely lose my mind because i have a weekend off. whats wrong with me.

anyways. there's no major triggers for this but be forewarned reader is meant to be very rag-tag deliquent type. she has a strong personality and generally is not feminine. she is like a mangy street cat a bit. also if u want u should listen to easily by bruno major while reading.

✮ synopsis ; you've been quietly pining for umemiya for a little over ten years with no plans of confessing.

you did not have a plan for what you would do if umemiya confessed to you first.

Once a day, everyday - Umemiya will come into your store, pause, smile, and confess his love to you before going off on his own.

And once a day, everyday, you reject this confession with a soft huff telling him to quit being stupid before shooing him away.

It's become a ritual. A fixture in your daily routine that you're not allowed to ignore despite how hard you're trying.

He's been doing it for three months, more or less.

His reason for confessing everyday? Because he’s waiting on the day you confess back, of course. Which you've refused to do for the last few months and will continue to refuse for as long as you’ve got.

It's not because you don't like him, alright?

You've known Umemiya since middle school and you've liked him for about the same time. One of the core memories of your childhood is the day you met him, crying while sitting on a swing-set, after what felt like the worst day of your life.

( On the day you run away from home, you seriously consider not going back.

You don’t really know how long you sit there. People walk by but most of them move on quickly. It’s mid-day before anyone bothers to stop and ask you something.

"I've never seen you around before.” A strange looking boy approaches, friendly and unassuming but not entirely cheerful “Did you just move here?"

You keep quiet, closing your eyes and hoping your lack of response is enough to push him away. Your hope fizzles out when you hear the swing creak as he sits besides you.

"I'm Umemiya Hajime. I live close by." His voice is airy and causal. "I'm sorry you're having a bad day.”

"Fuck off," You reply bluntly, frowning. “I don’t need sympathy. Leave me the hell alone.”

He pauses before pushing himself slightly forward to barely swing.

“I couldn’t leave you alone while you’re sad,” He voices willfully. "It might make you feel better to talk about it."

In disbelief at his response, you finally look up and asses him properly. It doesn’t do much to change your initial unfavorable impression. White hair, blue eyes and a little taller than you. You’re definitely about the same age. All of that to say, there’s something weird about him that you can’t quite place.

Despite his manner and way of speaking though, you don’t actually think he’s that weak which makes his whole aura even more unnerving to you. His attempt at being non-threatening doesn’t work for him. He’s being a real try-hard about trying to make you comfortable…

Either way, he’s got an air about him that puts you on the defensive.

Talking to someone about it had never been much of any option, and somehow it pisses you off that he’s being so brazen about it.

Maybe if you tell him about, he’ll stop prying into your business. Or maybe you’re just looking for excuses to let off steam.

You don't care anymore. You wipe your nose with the back of your sleeve.

"I don't live here and I didn’t move. I ran away." You reply.

He keeps looking at you, curious, inquisitive and sympathetic.

"Why?"

"I broke a girls nose." You scowl. The words rise up in your throat like bile. Make you feel cornered. The wounds too fresh. "It—she bullied me for years for one. And I never fought back, it was all petty bullshit anyway and I didn't like getting calls home. I didn't care about that but she—it wasn't for nothing. She was causing trouble for Sensei."

Umemiya keeps to himself, humming in response to your troubles. Your voice breaks on your next sentence, chest tightening.

"It doesn't matter what she does to me but—" Your hands ball up at your first. Your throat feels thick, eyes suddenly watering as your chest throbs . "Anyway, I couldn’t let it go like normal."

He hums. "So you hit her?"

You shake your head, sniffling. "Not at first. Just told her to shut up. Said that she didn't know what she was talking about. She hit me first..." You screw your eyes shut, sighing. "...said she was gonna spread rumors about him just trying to get under my skin and be malicious,” You lean back slightly and look up towards the gray sky. “I punched her after that."

You realize he's looking at your bloodied knuckles, but he isn't making an expression that you can read easily. You don’t remember the last time you spoke to someone like this who wasn’t Tsukimori-sensei.

"Are you crying because you got in trouble?"

“Who cares about that?” You sigh “Sensei had to put his job on the line and take responsibility for me,” Your brow furrows in frustration. “He’s the one person I don’t want to cause trouble for,” You grip the iron chains of the swing set with a closed fist and finally admit what you’ve been avoiding to say out loud. “I don’t want him to hate me…”

The kid besides you smiles absently at your words. Half-way between listening and recalling something else, it seems like. You can’t help but wonder what the hell his deal is. You barely know him but you’re spilling your guts.

He speaks after a long while. "I don't think he sees it that way. I think you should try to talk to him about it."

You make a face, rejecting the idea. "What? No way."

Umemiya shrugs, smiling - though it doesn't quite meet his eyes.

"He sounds like he cares about you. If he knew your reasons, there's no way he would hold it against you. And it’s important to share your burdens with people who care for you." You look over and see him smiling somberly at the mulch beneath his shoes before returning back to what you’ve grown to know as his usual self. "Anyways, I think we should be friends. Tell me your name."

You sniffle again. What a weird guy. Well you say that but

You still give him your name.

"What a pretty name,"

When you tell him to shut up again, your new friend Umemiya just laughs.

And you find you feel just a little bit lighter.)

That night, Umemiya walked with you to take the last train and told you to come see him again with good news.

You aren't sure what compelled you to follow his advice. Maybe because he was the first person who sat down and listened to you about it other than Sensei himself.

Tsukimori-sensei was your school counselor and the only adult in your entire life that seemed to worry about. You didn't have any friends in middle school and you were a scary looking delinquent girl without a mother and a mostly absent father.

But Sensei was always incredible gentle to you and incredibly kind. And despite what rumors that girl tried to spread - he was never anything more than an important mentor.

It was fucking embarrassing crying in front of him but because you were honest - you got to keep in touch with him. He attended your middle school and high school graduation - supporting you as you started to sort your life out. Became the closest thing you ever really got to a parental figure.

Over time, you got close with Umemiya and developed strong loyalty to him. You attended an all-girls middle and high school the next town over - totaling one other friend in all six years of your remaining education. Lack of socialization meant that Umemiya somewhat became the very center of your existence.

It was easy to visit him thanks to parental neglect. You sort of melted into his life. Tsubaki once called you his guard dog as a half-joke, but there's some truth to the sentiment. Quick to defend, quick to heel, and always happy to see him.

You, like many people, owe Umemiya a lot. His meddling over the course of ten years gave you reason to push forward. He even encouraged you to try and attend school and not give up on living a half-decent life.

You've got a never-ending list of short-comings but being with him didn't make you hate yourself. It made you want to be better because you knew Umemiya would accept you for whoever you decided to be.

So despite your delinquency, you managed to graduate high school. Post-graduation, you attended a vocational culinary school and became a patisserie before moving to Furin for permanent residency. You opened a bakery and supply bread to Kotoha-chans diner.

You made something of your life mostly 'cause of Umemiya. He's not your only friend anymore but he's still your best. Even though you never really pictured things like dating or romance - in some way it only makes sense that it'd be that meddling, kind-hearted idiot that you end up falling for it.

Lovesickness aside, you respect Umemiya more than anyone in your personal life.

He’s stuck around with someone like you this long after all. That means a lot to you.

Somehow the two of you mesh well despite being totally opposite.

You decided as soon as you realized it sometime in high school that you'd keep your feelings a secret for the rest of your life. You had a strong resolve in your beliefs about the whole thing which made it easy. You hid 'em so well even Sakura's stupid accurate romance detector didn't uncover them.

When you picture Umemiya's future - it was easy to picture the kind of woman he would end up with. Another kind-hearted idiot like him, a social butterfly. Someone a little softer.

In any case it definitely was not you. You didn't need it to be. You've received so much from him already, you never entertained the idea. Plus, Umemiya has dated other people over the years, so in your head there was never any hope to cling onto.

For all reasons listed above, a requited romance is at the very bottom of your expectations.

That's why you've been in this fucking conundrum.

To say it was a complete shock to you when Umemiya openly confessed to you many months ago would be understatement of the goddamn century.

He confessed right on the last day of Spring, totally out of the blue.

(It’s a little unusual for Umemiya to call you at this hour. If it were anyone else, you’d be a little upset since you’ve gotta be up around four-am to get prepared for the day.

It’s him though so you’re particularly tolerant, yawning as you find Umemiya on a familiar swing-set, still wearing your PJ’s.

"Why am I out here in the middle of the night with you?"

Your words lack any real malice as you sit down. Umemiya remains totally quiet. It's unusual for him to not immediately go on a tangent upon seeing you.

"Oi. Earth to Hajime." You frown at him. "Did ya get beat up before coming here and scramble your brain? Give me the popsicle before it melts."

He looks over at you and chuckles as he hands you the bag from the convenience store. You ignore his odd behavior and open up said popsicle before it melts - carefully splitting it down the middle and giving him the bigger side before going to town on your own. He takes it from you but doesn't even bring it up to his mouth.

Weird.

"Did something... happen? Like seriously happen?" You take a long lick of your iced treat. It's melon flavored, your favorite. "Seeing you frown doesn't feel right. Gives me the heebie-jeebies."

He cracks a little smile at that. It makes you feel better. He shakes his head.

"Mm, nothing happened. I just have something I want to tell you."

You nod in understanding. "'kay. Take your time."

He blinks, surprised.

"Hm? Aren't you gonna scold me for wasting your time?"

"Nah. Whatever it is must be serious if it's making you all introspective or whatever. 's fine. Bring me coffee tomorrow and I'll forgive ya."

His lip twitches up. "I l really like that about you."

You feel yourself flush and wave a hand at him. "Ahh, shut up."

He pauses for a second then shakes his head. "Mm. It's more like I like everything about you, actually."

You twist your face in confusion. "What are you on about now?"

"That's what I came here to tell you." Umemiya says after a deep breath. He says it so casually you wonder if you're mishearing him - leaning back to look up at the stars. "I really, really like you. I just felt like I had to tell you that"

You stare at him in disbelief.

"Wha—huh?"

He doesn't even flinch as he repeats it.

"I like you."

"No the hell you don't."

He furrows his brow with a light laugh. "I just told you that I do, silly."

"But that's—" You don't say the word impossible. You really want too, but you know exactly how he would react if you did. You simply shake your head. "No, you don't."

"I thought you might respond like this so don't worry but how about you?" He shrugs then looks at you intently. "I thought you might like me too."

Your eyes go wide. Oh fuck.

You feel like a deer caught in headlights. You know you should be happy about this, deep down. That'd be the normal response.

But you just feel complicated as shit instead. Fuck does he mean? Umemiya.... likes you? There's just no way that's true. Not after all of this time. And how the fuck does he know you like him back when you've been keeping it in?

You can't bring yourself to look him in the face and lie. Your heart rises to your throat as you shakily stand to your feet.

"Stop...thinking whatever you've been thinking. I'm going home." You reply in complete panic.

The minute you say it, you turn on your heel so you don't have to look at his face. You don’t even want to know.

And before Umemiya can catch you and try to talk it out, you bolt.

What the fuck was that?)

For the last few months, you've been avoiding the topic of conversation as much as you humanly can.

The possibility of Umemiya even just accepting your feelings was already far beyond your imagination, but him returning them? Confessing first? That wasn't even in your realm of possibility.

Ever since then, you've been losing your mind trying to force your life and train of thought to go back to normal. You’ve done all of the math on it.

Realistically, you can't ignore him. Your lives are so mixed together it'd be impossible unless you went under protection and changed your name which you briefly considered. You thought of turning him down but you’re pretty sure you wouldn’t be able to actually do it despite how good you are at keeping it in. Either way, your best option logistically is feigning ignorance and trying to keep the whole thing out of your mind entirely which should've been easy.

Tricking yourself into believing the whole thing was a dream? Lightwork.

Except. Except.

Umemiya just won't give up.

He confesses to you again every single day. Worse, he doesn't care whose around to hear him. No one in your friend group seems even the tiniest bit shocked by it which doesn't help the situation. You can't get used to it, can't get used to him being so fucking cheeky as he stops you midway through normal conversation to tell you he loves you.

He's persistent to a fault and while you've done well feigning immunity - you can't survive like this.

You've graduated to tell him to go away and treating the whole thing like some big joke.

But honestly?

You're avoiding having a proper conversation about it. Umemiya is especially keen in not letting you forget that. And determined to make you confess.

But you're not going to to let him sway you.

You've got principles, after all.

After you close up shop on Friday, you get dressed to attend a kickback with all of your friends.

It's a barbecue technically - commemorating the end of summer. Togame is really into grilling and in their weird domestic partnership, Chouji really enjoys hosting. They've done this once or twice a year ever since they started living together.

Once you've finished cleaning up the store, you take the train to Kotoha's place - mistakenly assuming you'd leave as soon as you got there. However you failed to realize that Tsubaki and Kotoha would be getting ready together.

You got jumped as soon as you walked through the door - so now you're wearing a different pair of clothes that Tsuabki got for you and waiting for them to finish getting you dressed up so you can leave.

Tsuabkino is inches from your face while Kotoha braids your hair. You feel itchy and exposed but with both of them here there's no way you're going to get out of wearing it.

"Can we just go?" You grumble, not enjoying the feeling of being poked and prodded.

"No," Tsubaki insists, frown making her expression pinch. "You have half an eyelash on. Sit still."

"He'll be happy to see you dressed up," Kotoha adds, trying to encourage you. You frown and look down.

"Whatever. I don't care about makin' him happy."

The both of them pause and stare at you until you fold under the pressure - screwing your eyes shut and making you flush.

“Such a blatant lie.”

Tsubaki giggles. “Right?”

Your face feels hot. "Ahhh, alright already. Shut up."

"Honest girls are much cuter," Tsubaki coos. You give her a half-assed glare.

"Don't you like Hajime? Why're you trying to set me up with him still?" You mumble. You always think they’d make a perfect pair.

"Of course I like him. He's my prince." She smiles at you. “But it’s a little different to how a certain someone loves him. And well, if you knew the way he looked at you…"

You frown, feeling hot all the way up to your ears as you ball your fists up and look down at your lap. "Whatever."

"You should stop trying to worm your way out of it," Kotoha adds, much less sweetly. "You know how he is. He couldn't give up on you for ten years like some idiot."

You blink. "Huh? But ten years would mean -"

Kotoha braids your hair even tighter making you wince. "I know. You're both stupid like that."

"Don't be mean, Kotoha-chan. And you, be a little more honest, okay?"

You sigh deeply.

"Ain't like anything is gonna happen either way. I already told you both I'm not accepting his confession,"

"Cause you're a huge wuss, yeah we know."

You elbow Kotoha lightly.

"Maybe nothing will," Tsubaki hums mischievously. "But it feels nice to dress up for him, right?"

You pretend the thought doesn't make your hear flutter.

Tsubaki does you the kindness of laughing lightly before moving on.

You arrive to the function an hour later than planned and stick mostly with Kotoha and Tsubaki until half way through the evening.

Loosening up with a few drinks, the three of you part ways to catch-up with different people. It's not rare you see them, but it's not often everyones schedules allow them to be in the same place.

Lucky for you, Umemiya does you the courtesy of not confessing during the first half of the night before food comes out.

(Though you do spit beer in his face after he calls you pretty, which he takes on the chin after cleaning up.)

After dinner, the function simmers down significantly. People quietly break off into groups and chat to each other into the late night. About that time people split whatever desserts they brought among guests.

You brought cookies and something specifically for Chouji and Togame as thanks for hosting.

Towards the end of the night, you find yourself sticking sort of close to Umemiya. Though he's having his own one-on-one conversation with Hiragi while sitting next to you , turned the other way.

You busy yourself catching up to Suo, Sakura and Nirei - all of whom you consider yourself close to.

Of them, you're the closest to Nirei which always surprises people.

The kids a total wimp but he helped you years ago study to graduate so you're a little closer to him than everyone else. He's a great guy though and you hang out alone sometimes too.

The conversations gone far left at this point in the evening.

Suo leans back against his chair and looks toward Sakura besides him with a lazy smile.

"Sakura-chan would make a great wife."

You snort listening to them bicker. Sakura grows beet red, throwing an empty beer can at Suo's head that he catches gracefully.

"Go die."

"What? You're good at domestic work and you have a cute side, Isn't that all you need?"

"Shut up. I'll kill you."

As Suo breaks out into laughs, Sugishita comes down from the kitchen just in time to catch the argument. He crinkles his nose up.

"Oh, Sugishita-kun. 'Sup."

He nods to your greeting as he leans against the wood railing of the outdoor deck.

"What the hell are you two talking about?"

'What? You mean about Sakura being a good wife?" Suo asks. Sugishita crinkles his nose.

"Don't phrase it so repugnantly but yeah I guess."

"We were talking about marriage 'cause I was complaining at work."

"What's happening at work?"

Nirei sighs as he lays it out again to Sugishita after having given the spiel to the three of you once.

"One of my superiors at work is a lot older than me and keeps bringing up marriage," Nirei explains woefully. "It's all he talks about. He thinks I'm seeing someone."

Sugishita frowns. "Eh? What gave him that impression?"

A good question you hadn't considered asking.

You raise your brow at Nirei who laughs awkwardly while he holds your gaze.

"You know that picture of us from highschool? When he came to the cafe at your school festival?"

You smile spitefully, crinkling your nose in faux distaste. "The one wear we wearing those stupid maid costumes?"

"Yup. That's the one. It's a good picture of us so I keep it on my desk and he saw it so..."

"You keep a picture of just the two of you on your desk? No wonder he got that impression.” Suo adds.

You sense Umemiya suddenly tense which you find weird. He's still talking to Hiragi though when you glance from the corner of your eye. You brush it off.

Nirei blushes, elbowing him.

"Shut up. I've got group pictures and stuff too. But he just singled out that one cause you know,"

You nod in understanding before it dawns on you. Your eyes widen. "Oh, shit? Does that old man think you're dating me?"

Nirei closes his eyes and sighs. "He won't even let me correct him."

You pause before breaking out into genuine laughter.

"Pfft, that's terrible." You reply sympathetically, taking a sip of your beer before giving a mischievous grin. "Maybe you can make it work for you though, eh? Tell 'em we got hitched forreal and then I'll call you on the phone and nag you to get home for dinner so you can leave earlier."

Nirei acts like he's touched making you laugh even harder. "You'd do that for me?"

You give him another toothy grin. "I'll even help you fake some wedding photos. We'll be accomplices." You lean back with a shrug. "You gotta wear the dress though."

Sugishita laughs at that. "You being a blushing bride is a little..."

You snort, shooting him a dirty look "Shut up."

"Deal. Not a bad plan honestly." Nirei says with a sigh. "Whatever gets me out of the office early."

"Even if that means being married to me?" You joke.

He smiles at you. "Aw, what do you mean? That's the best part."

You chuckle at him good-natuedly and the conversation quickly moves on.

The alcohol is starting to make you dizzy so you eventually tune out as the four of them talk, glancing at Umemiya from the corner of your eye.

You swear you catch a glimpse of his jaw ticking.

For the rest of the night, Umemiya is off.

No one else can tell. You know that because the atmosphere remains light until everyone leaves around two-am. There's no blips or tension, no awkward pauses.

But you know Umemiya. He's been real weird all night and it's bugging the shit out of you.

It's a well past two now, and you've just left the late night cab you took with him. Umemiya lives close so he's walking you home.

He's usually energetic after a get-together like that so his dead silence is weirding you out. You're pretty good at figuring his feelings out but for once you feel totally clueless.

It feels as if even the cicadas and crickets have gone to sleep. There's nothing bu the streetlights overhead and soft glow of the moon, coupled with the soft click of your shoes on the pavement. Occasionally, a car will pass by.

At one point, it becomes too much. There's still a few minutes until you're home.

You stop in the middle of the sidewalk and turn around to look at him. Umemiya pauses, startled as he stops with you, and doesn't smile which only makes your concern worsen.

"Oi. What's up with you?"

"Hm?"

You cross your arms over your chest.

"Don't 'hm' me. You've been in a bad mood few for the last few hours. It's gonna bug me all night if I don't ask, so what's up?"

He stares at you.

"You noticed?"

"How could I not notice?"

"I was hiding it pretty well, I thought." He states more than asks, half-smile on his face.

"Yeah. But well," You shrug. "I'm always looking at you for better or for worse. So. What's wrong?"

He stares at you a long time before sighing, running his fingers through his hair. You've never seen him like this. You've seen him pissed off before, seen him mildly irritated - but never this... pouty? It's not like he's pissed.

He's quiet, taking a deep breath of cool night air before sliding his hands into his pockets and taking a good look at your face.

"Do you know that I like you?"

Your eyes widen as you blink wildly.

This is what he wants to talk about?

He pins you down with his stare, hands in his pockets and intense as ever.

"Don't even think about bolting this time, okay? I'm asking you seriously. Do you?"

Your eyes flicker down the concrete - feeling extremely uncomfortable and suddenly sweaty. You shrug, unsure of what else you could say or do.

"Hard not to know." You mumble. "You tell me everyday."

"But do you get it?"

Your frown deepens.

"Of course not. How could I possibly get something like that, stupid?"

He takes a deep breath. "But you like me, don't you?"

Panic sets in. If you could sink straight into the Earth you would.

"...Never said that."

He calls your name quietly. "Look at me, at least. Stop running away from me and just look."

You know you're being stubborn but you can't help it. You've kept it a secret for ten years and all of a sudden he wants you to tell him you like him? You've held it in for so long already and he's telling you not to run away.What other choice is there?

One wrong move move and everything will come crashing down inside of you. You can't even lie about it either.

Damn it.

"I won't look." Your voice is warbly and it makes you feel so pathetic you could die, tucking your chin petulantly "Don't wanna,"

Umemiya frowns at you.

"If you say you don't like me I'll let it go."

You remain very quiet and close your eyes tighter. He sighs softly, making your chest hurt.

After a minute, you muster up the courage to be dishonest - determined to drop it at all costs. You're slow as you pick your head up.

"I don't like you," You repeat slowly, carefully - trying not to stumble the words. "So quit it, alright?"

He laughs humorlessly and holds your gaze.

"That's the first time you've ever actually lied to me. You're terrible at it,"

"I'm not lying." You snap. Umemiya smiles somberly when he sees tears on the corners of your eyes. He steps closer to you. You freeze. When his hand reaches cups your cheek, you feel your legs lose all their strength and close your eyes. You're terrified to even look at him, not wanting him to see what you know is obvious on your face.

He wipes them as he tilts your face towards him slowly.

"Tell me, at least. If you're going to refuse me, don't I deserve to know why? Do you hate the idea of dating me that much?"

You shake your head. "Stupid. How would anyone hate that?"

"So I deserve to know why you're turning me down."

A long moment of silence draws you out of your feelings. You guess that's fair enough. Maybe this way he'll leave you alone - as long you're clear about your reasons. He’s the earnest type after all.

You manage to suck up all your tears and clear your throat enough to give him an explanation.

You step back a little from him, putting some distance between you as you stare down at the sidewalk.

"You know... I respect ya more than anyone else. You've always been someone I admire. And I uh, owe you a lot. So I only want the very best for you and all." You scratch your neck, taking a deep sigh. "For me... regardless of my feelings, I want you to be with someone who really fits, you know? Well put-together and everything. Someone that suits you better"

He pauses before frowning.

"Regardless of your feelings? Does that mean you were willingly pushing them aside?" He says distraught. "For how long?"

You shrug, trying to lighten the conversation. It’s too devastating otherwise. "About ten years, give or take."

The sheer distress in his face makes you want to keep talking, just he doesn’t look so disheartened. Like some explanation will clear things up.

"It ain't a bad thing, Hajime. You've given me a lot and I'm serious when I say I want the best for you. I love you, if that's what you wanna hear. I'm content just being besides you as your friend." You say with a shrug. "I can be kinda selfish but there's a limit to my greed,yknow."

He looks like he's in shock.

"Wanting someone to love you back isn't greedy or selfish."

You find you don't have anything to say with that, but hope he drops it for the time being.

Umemiya stares at you seriously. It makes your breath hitch meeting his eyes, blue with all the depth in the world. You feel like you can't pull yourself from his gaze.

"And there was never a possibility? Not once that I could've liked you? That I wanted to be with you?"

"It doesn't matter." You say. "And no, it never crossed my mind.."

"Stop saying it doesn't matter. Of course it matters. Your feelings matter the most so don't toss them aside so easily. Do you really believe that you're not right for me?"

You aren’t sure how to answer him.

"You think you're not good enough for me." He says with some realization more than asks.

It's the first time you see his face change. When you look up, he looks well and truly angry. The whole thing is confusing.

"I'm sorry," You say. It’s such a timid thing to say but you don’t know how else to fix.

"It's not—I just don't like hearing you talk about yourself like that. I don't like hearing someone I love get spoken about like that.”

You ignore the sentiment again and wait in the quiet. You always thought this would be an easier conversation to have but it hurts.

He sighs a bit, getting closer to you again. He’s less upset than before but there’s something else in his expression.

"You wanted to know why I was upset earlier right? It's because of you and Nirei-kun." He admits.

"What about him?"

"You talked about marrying him so casually. I overheard and it bothered me all night."

Your eyes go wide.

"I—it wasn't serious."

"I know that. I never thought I was that childish either but you being married to someone else as a joke." He laughs humorlessly. "I really hated it. That’s why I asked if you know how much I like you."

You feel frozen in place by his admission.

Umemiya steps towards you faster than you can muster up a counter for why he shouldn’t bother.

His arms around you feel sudden. His grip on you is so tight, like you could slip through his arms all at once if he loosens it. He smells like cologne and beer and summer but it's not unpleasant. He rests his chin on your head and lets out a deep breath.

Your chest is throbbing for different reasons now. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

"If you won't be greedy, then you should at least let me be." He lets out a long, tense breath "At least let me have what I want."

You're stuck. Your mouth moves faster than your brain.

"Why me? And why now?"

Umemiya pulls away to stare down at you. You can't bring yourself to turn away from him.

"It was always you. I felt guilty... for wanting to you that way when you were a precious friend. Wanting to treat you delicately when you were strong and proud." He admits. Hearing him say that out loud embarrasses you to no end, “But it was those things that made me love you. Strong yet clumsy. Prideful yet honest. Awkward yet trying to be gentle. Loyal. And always considerate of everyone. Of me, when I was taking care of everyone else."

Your stomach feels like it's going to erupt. You're losing your resolve faster than you know how to mend it.

"Stop saying stuff like that."

Umemiya holds you tighter and shakes his head. "No. How else will I get you to change your mind?"

"I won't change my mind." You say stubbornly.

"I love you." He repeats.

You squirm.

"Stop it,"

"I want to be with you. I want to kiss you. I want to hold you. I want to stay by your side forever. I want to do things with you and make you feel good. I want to make you smile. I want to grow old with you."

Your hearts fluttering. Fuck.

"Idiot. What are you saying? Let me go."

"It has to be you for me. I won't have anyone else no matter what you think. The person I love is you. I love you."

"Hajime." Your voice is shaking.

His drops down to a whisper.

“I can’t change how you think of yourself overnight but I can tell you that there’s no point in trying to push me away. Whether or not you accept me, we’ll never stop being side by side - so please stop fighting it.”

You put your hands on his chest, trying to push him away. “Stop it,”

"Please tell me it's okay to love you how I want too," He says, soft and doting while he crushes you in his arms. "And please love me in return."

You put your hands up to your misty eyes wanting to wipe them away as he melts through the rest of your resolve like it's nothing. It's hard not to be moved. You've been pretending for ten long years that you don't love him at all and he's declaring his love for you like it's the easiest, most sensible and sane thing in the world.

A kind-hearted, willful, meddling idiot. How you are you supposed to push him away when he's holding you this tight?

"Shit," You voice, huffing as your voice shakes. "Don’t be stupid, alright? If you’re so insistent, I wont let you back out if you meet someone else."

He laughs wetly.

"I already tried meeting other people, but it's still you. Always was."

He smiles above you. 6'2 with watery eyes with the look of pure relief like it's the best news he's ever heard in his life. It's too much for you. Your heart is racing so fast you wonder if you're gonna die.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks.

Your eyes go wide as you look away, not wanting to look too eager. "That's..."

He makes another puppy-dog kinda face. "Please?"

You're embarrassed by how easy it makes you give in. "...Do whatever you want."

He laughs bright and warm as his hands slide up to cup your cheeks and kiss you with all the passion he can muster. It's intense, almost suffocating the way he slots his lips against yours and breathes you in. He doesn't let you up from it, doesn't part from you for a second even when he pulls away - noses brushing and stealing the air from your lungs.

It's your stupid first kiss and it's perfect - so perfect you wonder if you're going to wake up in a dream. He kisses you hard and makes you stand on your toes to chase his lips when he pulls back. Elated. Ecstatic when you grasp the front of his shirt and keep kissing him when he stops.

He pauses before littering your whole face with pecks even as you weakly protest, unable to stop frowning but feeling the happiest you've ever been.

There's so much longing in between you, you feel like you could die. You feel helpless.

"Can I come home with you?" He asks, once he stops - only holding your hand a short distance away. "I want more time together."

You feel your skin burn hot as you nod, all while trying not to read too much into it.

"Yeah."

You barely get to lock your door behind you before Umemiya crowds you in the door way.

His arms circle around your waist, chin resting against your shoulder.. Broad chest against your back, you try not to flounder as his warm voice caresses your ear.

You're going to die young if he keeps this up.

"I love you,"

You flush. "Enough already. And let me go so I can wash up."

"Do you need to sleep early? Thought you were closed tomorrow. Wanted to talk a little longer."

You pause.

"...Sleep?"

"Hm?"

You both freeze as the miscommunication dawns at the same time. You try to pull away from him as soon as you realize, skin burning hot. You're quick but Umemiya is quicker.

"Hajime." You say gravely. "If you don't let me go, I'm gonna kill you."

"No way," He laughs as you attempt to wriggle out of his grasp. "Is that why you let me in? Were you expecting something?"

"Shut up! Don't say anything, I swear I'll —"

"Don't be like that, baby. I'm not making fun of you. Hey, turn around. Look at me."

You're upset but you think the reason is more embarrassing then the feeling.

"Don't wanna,"

Umemiya laughs as he gently turns you around to face him. In your utter mortification, you can barely bring yourself to meet his gaze.

"Stop staring."

He doesn't.

"Do you normally invite guys in just 'cause they ask?"

"Wha—no! It's because it's you, stupid!"

He smiles in satisfaction.

"You shouldn't say yes so easily even if it is me. What if I took advantage of you?"

You think he's just being smug for the sake of it, which is pissing you off. You grab him by the front of his shirt.

"Fuck off. Maybe there's a reason I said yes."

He pauses before his eyes widen. You push your hand against his mouth before he blurt anything else out but he's quick to pry your hand away.

"Don't say it." You hiss.

"I was planning on taking my time. I cherish you and I want to make sure you know that. I'm just a little surprised you’re moving so quick when you were telling me not too long ago."

You can feel the tips of your ears growing hot, feeling even more self-conscious. "Whatever. If we're just going to sleep I still need to wash up."

He keeps his arms behind your back so you can’t move.

"Hey. Didn't say that. It's not like I don't want to do it with you. Just don't want you to regret anything."

You give him an flat look. "I was prepared to give you my virginity and you're worrying about that. Unless you're planning on backing out, there's no way I would."

"Your—" His jaw drops a little.

You drop your voice down just a little close as you grab his collar.

"If you get it, then hurry up and fuck me. Stupid Hajime."

He gives you the dopiest smile you've ever seen while your face grows increasingly hot, leaning to in to press a kiss to your lips. He brushes his nose with yours. Laughter from deep in his chest.

"Yes, ma'am."

Once you give Umemiya permission to have you, you get the feeling that there really is no going back from here.

You both know it. The tension in your bedroom is so thick you can barely breathe around it.

Umemiya lands gently onto your bed - sitting up as he holds you by your waist and pulls you over to him. You're so aware of his touch it makes your nerves feel they're on fire. You're not a total virgin - at least not enough to be feeling this worked up over someones hands lingering on your waist.

But they're Umemiya's hands—Hajime's hands, so you can't rationalize your thoughts of out it. His hands are strong and big, a little calloused and rough from the gardening and fighting. You can feel how much he adores you in a gesture so small it makes you concerned for your own heart thinking about how the rest of the night will go.

He invites you into his lap gently, so pleased by the way you go to him so willingly. You spread yourself over him with your knees on either side of his thighs. He's big - wide and broad.

Your barely hovering over his bulge as you lean your weight onto him. His hand barely brushes underneath your top, just barely touching the skin.

You shiver.

"Are you really sure this is what you want?" He asks. "I don't mind waiting as long as you need,"

You give him an bored look. "Not very convincing when you're makin' a face like that,"

He chuckles nervously. "That bad?"

You nod before adding a little bashfully. "Dunno if I mind, though."

He buries his fact against your chest all of a sudden making you jump.

"The hell?"

"You're so cute when you're honest like that," He mumbles into your chest, cheek pressed against your tits.

"Jeez, shut up. What're you talking about?"

Umemiya pulls back and leans forward - enough to breach the inches of space between you. Nose to nose, your eyes meet. A bated breath, you put your hand on his shoulders and work up the nerve to kiss him.

It's chaste. Mostly for you to break the ice otherwise you're sure you're gonna pussy out.

He smiles at you when you pull away.

"See what I mean? So cute," He hums, and leans in again. "Come on. Kiss me again."

Something about him is different when he tells you to kiss him. It's not smug or cheeky. But it's not casual either. Softness tinges his words, his touch - his whole demeanor screams like he loves you absolutely. It makes your heart rate pick up again, hands shaky as you try not to lose your nerve.

He's restraining himself though. How he intense he could be vs how soft and calm he is being. You know Umemiya like the back of your hand so you want him to do what he wants. It's hard to find your voice.

"You don't have to.." You cast your eyes down in embarrassment. "…hold back with me, either. I'm not some maiden."

He smiles at you a little. "You really do know me better than anyone, huh? I was keeping it together pretty well."

"Look I know I’m kinda difficult…I'm not real good with stuff like this either," You fidget with the collar of his shirt with your free hand. "But once I say yes I don’t back out. So don't worry about scaring me off or putting too much pressure on me or whatever. ...'s fine to just do what you feel like. I’m scared out of my mind but I wouldn’t do that to you,"

“Don’t know how long it’ll take but I’ll do my best to make you feel secure. Might take some time but we’ve got our whole lives.” You flush at the implication. He smiles a little. "Whatever I want seems like a lot to give, though."

"Well...depending on what, I'm might not be good at it,"

He shakes his head. "I don't want anything like that."

"What do you want then?"

"You." He says easily. Your stomach flips. "All of you. I just want to make you feel so good you can't stand it. Want to worship you top to bottom. There's not a single part of you I don't want."

You flush. "The hell... I meant like a blowjob or some shit."

He laughs. "I know. And I want that too, another time." He hums, taking a deep breath. "Right now I just want you to feel so good for me. Is that okay?"

You can't look at him. You can barely stand how bashful you're being, but you can't even play coy. Something in you is bursting at the seams.

You love him so much you don't recognize yourself, or your voice, or how you're acting. It makes you sick but you can’t do anything but go with it. "Yeah. 's okay, if it's what you want."

"It is," He says, leaning in. "All I've ever wanted."

You ignore the latter half of his comment as he finally goes to kiss you again.

He pulls your body close to him as you do. Until your chest to chest, arms wrapped around the span of his shoulders as you press your lips together soft and slow.

He slides a hand underneath your top, undoing the clasp of your bra. He lets his palm stay on the center of your back while you keep kissing - straps of your bra falling down your shoulder as he splays his fingers to feel more of your skin and hold you. Hugging you close to him, his other arm wraps around your torso. His forearms feels especially strong they way they hold you by the waist.

You're so close to him. Kissing him so deep, his tongue sliding against your lips. Something about the kiss is languid but the touch is so hot it makes your skin burn. You feel wrapped up in him, can't even tell whose heartbeat you're hearing.

More of your weight ends up in his lap as you feel your knees go weak. Something hard presses against your clothed cunt and you gasp a little into his mouth.

"Oh, shit." You mumble in surprise. Umemiya laughs.

"You're making me feel good." He hums.

Your face heats up. "I barely did anything."

"You just being on my lap is more than enough."

You make a face at him before rubbing yourself over the zipper of his jeans, slow and deliberate trying to get a feel for it. You hear him moan, nearly jumping out of your skin in surprise.

The way Umemiya moans is a lot for you to process. Breathy and a little low. It resonates through your whole body like a caress.

You make a few more tentative passes over his bulge, just to hear him do it again. Driven by your instinct more than anything, you lean into kiss at his jaw - making use of the limited experience you do have to try and draw more sounds from him.

"What're you thinking about?" He asks, still breathless. Maybe amused.

"Like the way you sound." You mumble in reply.

"I thought I told you I wanted to take care of you, hm?"

You frown. "So what? I can't touch you at all?"

He thinks on it. "You can touch me everywhere else and you can have your way with me later, if you want it. I don't wanna cum too fast."

"I'm just..."

He shakes his head. "You're underestimating me. I'm still a guy, you know? With a woman I love at that. There's no way I would make it through our first time if I didn't focus on you. Don't pout,"

Hearing him describe you in such an embarrassing way makes you flush. You roll your eyes half-heartedly. "Fine, whatever."

He smiles.

"Good girl. C'mere. Lay down."

You decide not to think about how effected the praise makes you as you comply.

Umemiya lays you down carefully, making sure you're comfortable before hovering over you. He looks a lot more imposing from this view - the dim lights of your room making his face seem more well-defined. Your nipples harden in arousal, peeking from underneath your shirt as he stares long and hard.

"You're so beautiful to me."

He leans down and presses a hot kiss to your jaw, just underneath your ear before slowly kissing down your neck. Open-mouthed kisses along delicate skin, tongue sliding over every patch he scrapes lightly with his teeth. You fidget underneath him, a dull throbbing between your legs. You try to figure out what to do with your hands but you’re too nervous.

He kisses your throat where it's extra sensitive and you bite back and involuntary noise.

"Don't hold your voice, please?"

"It's embarrassing,"

"It's not," He assures, bumping his forehead to your shoulder lightly. "I want to know what makes you feel good. Let me pay attention to you."

You frown but nod ultimately.

Umemiya isn't the first sexual encounter you've had in your life. You've done other things, but you've never really gone all the way with anyone. All of your other partners were mostly strangers - people mutually interested in using someone else to try and get off.

This is the first time anyone has taken this much time with you. A little kissing and groping, sometimes touching your chest.

No one's ever touched you like this, though.

His hands feel like they're all over your body no matter where they actually end up being. Makes your heartbeat rain drumming on a tin roof. Makes your stomach tingle, a heat in your calves and a prickly feeling on your back. Your whole being drowning with pure anticipation.

"Take this off for me." Umemiya mumbles. You nod, feeling absent as you wiggle yourself out of your tight little tee and toss it somewhere.

The air shifts again when you're naked. His eyes drink you in, tracing the soft lines and edges of your body. Looking over scars and stretchmarks with pure, blown out wanting that shoots lust straight into your veins.

You want him to fuck you so bad it's killing you but the very thought makes you feel so shy you could die.

"You're beautiful," Sounds dirty the way he says, makes it spill from his lips like wine tipping over a glasses edge. "Perfect. Every inch of you is so perfect."

He proves this to you by kissing you again. Running his hands over your skin. Up against curved sides and down against your arms, brushing the back of your biceps and forearms.

Infatuation in his touch ruins you. Makes your voice let out. You can't think of anyone whose treated you so preciously in your entire life and you find you don't resent it as much as you should.

(You find it feels so good to let someone touch you so kindly. A touch like you're being loved.)

Nonetheless it's embarrassing. Of course it is.

But it's so hard not to feel pulled in when you feel the way he kisses you. Draws a trail with his lips and tongue from jaw to shoulder blade - kissing down your biceps with his hands on your body, taking gentle inhales of your scent.

Anticipation makes your stomach tie in knots but finally he relents. Both hands squeeze the soft weight of your chest, palms brushing your hardened nipples.

"Fuck."

He laughs a little, heavy with want. "Yeah? Do you like being touched here?"

"Mm." Is the best reply you can get out.

He brushes against the tips with his fingers in a feather-light gesture, testing the waters before rubbing with a little more pressure. Your body jolts from the stimulation, wetness pooling and dampening your underwear. He leans in and takes one of your nipples into his mouth making another dull wave of lust wash through you.

And he makes sure to pay attention to both. It's just like him to be so attentive to some shit like that. Your spine arches as he sucks on your sensitive nipples, letting his tongue flick across them and giving into a sweet friction. You buck your hips up against instinctively, gripping onto the sheets as your sense of restlessness grows.

Your voice is whiny to your own ears but you can't calm down to save your life.

"You're taking too long," You huff. He laughs lightly, looking up at you from underneath his lashes.

"Don't be impatient." He tsks.

"It's enough already,"

He shakes his head. "Nope. Still got a long ways to go. Promise you'll have me when you're ready for it, so just try and focus on feeling good."

You make a frustrated sound. "It's embarrassing being the only one feeling good,"

He pauses before standing up on his knees. He takes his black t-shirt off in one swift go until his torso is bare, and undoes the top button of his pants. He gives you a little glance. "Better?"

There are too many layers of that to process in the moment it happens. You mumble. "A little,"

He beams. "Good. Now let me take good care of you,"

Sliding down lower, he kisses you from sternum to navel. Hands gripping at the softness of your sides, smoothing over the bare skin as he his thumb finds the waistband of your skirt. He glances up at you, silently seeking your permission. You nod back at him, watching him slide the short skirt away from your waist.

The sudden air feels cool against your skin. He presses his cheek against your belly, both hands on your hips..

"You're gorgeous. Even more gorgeous than I thought. I feel so lucky being able to touch you when you're this perfect.” He praises endlessly.

You cover your face with your arm.

"Ugh. Quit it. You're sayin' too much."

"Seeing you get so shy when I praise you a little is so cute." He trails his lips down further and further - just above your sex before stopping. "You're so cute."

He sits back, standing up and bending your legs slightly at the knee. You hold the position as you feel him massage your calve. Thumb drawing hard circles in the muscle, slowly working his way up to your knee. He kisses you afterwards trailing the same spot his hands were touching seconds ago before moving onto the other side.

There's nothing you can call it short of worship. The nagging feeling that it's undeserved is washed away each time Umemiya holds your gaze.

Devotion colors every touch no matter how small. And it’s so obvious, so prominent - it feels outright wrong to deny the fact it’s there.

You think the closest thing you can compare it too is the way Umemiya gardens. A patience as his fingers root through earth and soil, a kindness towards delicate things that makes even hours of work under the sun look beautiful and easy. His expression is what's most uncanny - what makes you you feel so hot.

An expression that says he loves doing it from the very bottom of his heart - not even a hint of apathy or complaint.

A face that says he loves every long, drawn out motion and actions of repetition all fro the very core of him.

Having it directed at making love to you so blatantly makes you more aroused than you know what to do with. You don't know how to let yourself be treated like the most cherished flower in Umemiya's garden - and you aren't so sure how you're meant to get used to it no matter how much it makes you feel...nice. You don’t have any other experience.

Which is why you're trying to be patient. Trying to be at least temporarily secure in whatever he sees in you that makes him worship every inch of you, memorizing all your ins and outs.

Umemiya places hot, wet kisses on your inner thigh before laying himself between your spread legs - breath barely hovering over your sex.

By the time he gets there, you feel utterly melted into your sheets. Your mind is hazy, impatient and wanting as strong hands secure your thighs. He's so close.

"I wanna eat you out. Is that okay?"

"If you don't do something soon I'm gonna kill you."

He laughs warmly. "I'll take that as a yes."

You pause. Umemiya waits.

"I didn't uh," You clear your throat. "Wasn't planning on getting laid so y'know. Haven't shaved in a while."

"Were you worried that I'd change my mind? I like it for the record. Feels natural." Umemiya says. "It's your body so there's nothing I would dislike about it."

"You're too much." You reply back in earnest. You cover your face with your arms. "So cheesy."

"I'm being serious." He says suddenly solemn with how sincere he is.

The sudden change is amusing. You pause before breaking into genuine giggles, unable to help yourself.

"You're really somethin', yknow that?"

He's quiet for a long time. Long enough for it to catch your attention, turning your gaze more clearly towards his face. Swiftly, he pushes himself up to catch your mouth in another kiss. It stuns you a bit, very different to all the rest. More teeth and tongue than lip.

"I like you," He murmurs, forehead to yours. "How can someone be so cute?"

"Would you quit embarrassing me and get on with it?"

He smiles. "As you wish,"

Umemiya settles back down between your legs after easing your panties off and putting your feet flat on the bed to give himself more access. You can barely look down at him doing it. His fingers brush the slick hairs back gentle as he uses his thumbs to spread your pussy apart and look at you more intimately.

You can feel him. Feel his every breath and movement. He stares at you awestruck. "How is all of you so pretty? Even here it's such a beautiful color."

"Stop looking so much,"

He takes a breath, taking in your scent one more time before pressing a kiss to your clit. You make an attempt to squirm away from his grip as his finger dig into your thighs and hold you down. The strength of it knocks the wind out of you, forcing you into place. Umemiya pushes his tongue and gives you a long, tentative lick through the seam of your cunt.

Your whole body breaks out into shivers at the sensation. The warm weight of his tongue on your sex makes feels like an electric current through water - your toes curling as he makes the same few passes over and over. He collects your pooling arousal on the tip as he drags upwards and flicks your clit tentatively. You grind against his face instinctually, hips chasing the pleasure. Amused laughter vibrates against your core as you do, mumbling at you to be patient while he's still face deep in it.

You let out another pitchy whine before he finally stops teasing. He lays his tongue flat against your clit, cupping it lightly before drawing it around experimentally. He watches carefully as he plays around with pressure and angles - trying to see what makes you react the most. You can feel how closely he's watching you.

You cover your mouth with your hand when he does find it, your voice breaking off as he licks carefully right where you need. He smiles into your cunt as he toys with your with the sensitive bundle of nerves, pleased by the change in your reactions. The obvious pleasure he's making you feel.

Something blooms into your chest. You've never—

"You're—" You close your eyes, hands tangling in the sheets as you break out into a fever. "Ngh, never had someone l-lick me,"

He must've heard you because he seems to laser in his focus the minute you say it. He's lapping at your clit so deep, licking precisely and holding you with nose against your bush.

You reach down tentatively, pushing back the hair falling in his face and he gives you a look so lovesick you want to run away. The pressure changes gradually, more intensely.

It feels better somehow. Makes you feel restless. Your whole body curls in tight with want at the sensation of it, the lower expanse of your belly tensed. You're shaking as you drift closer to the edge, arousal upped by the wet sound of him sucking your clit.

"Hajime," You warn, spine starting to arch as you helplessly try to pull away from the intense sensation. It's not familiar to your body, so much so your mind can barely make sense of what's happening to it, "Cumming—c-cumming!"

Something in you goes undone as Umemiya keeps pace during your orgasm. All the tension inside of you suddenly comes loose - specks of white matter behind closed lids as you screw your eyes shut. Your back curves up into arch, your hips trembling, your insides pulsing. It comes running into you, crashing into your body as waves of pleasure drown out the noise in your head. He eats you out until you feel borderline hysterical.

You feel melted and reshaped by him - yanking him off when he continues to be insistent after you're too oversensitive. He laughs when you pull him away, resting against your thigh as you take worn out heaving breaths.

He kisses the inside of your knee as you calm down, bright smile on his features - painted pink with a slight flush. "You came. I'm so happy."

You look at him in shock. "You're a scary guy."

He pushes up to kiss your temple, voice soft. "Did I scare you?"

Your stomach flutters, tucking your chin. "You were intense, but I didn't... hate it or anything."

"Yeah?" He grins, pressing a few kisses to your cheek and face before whispering against your ear. "Then, is it okay to go farther?"

You nod silently. Umemiya smiles.

He stands up on his knees, pushing his hair back as your eyes are drawn to his pants. You reach out for the waistband of his pants unthinkingly, hooking your finger into it. "Isn't it stuffy?"

He blinks, frozen before rubbing a hand across his face. "Ah a bit, but it's fine."

"Take 'em off. Please?"

Umemiya looks unusually distressed by the request, but follows through without another word. You watch him undress - revealing the tight black fabric of his boxer briefs snug against his waist. Your eyes go wide as you see the outline of his cock - head still half hazy. You voice your unfiltered reaction.

"Your dick is so big,"

He laughs breathlessly. "Are you trying to stir me up? What's with you?" He pauses to lay down besides you. You turn to lay on your side and face him a little better. "You're being cute. I'm not used to seeing you so docile."

"Shaddup," You reply half-heartedly. Your body is still on fire but it knocked the wind of you to cum once already. "Your fault."

He grins, a hint of smugness as he laughs. "That's true."

"You gonna fuck me?"

"Mm, yeah. Gotta open you up first or it'll hurt."

"I've put stuff in before. Toys. Should be fine."

"Still wanna play it safe. It's your precious first time after all."

You make a face before pulling him into you, hugging him tight as your whole body breaks out in a shameful flush. "Then hurry up and do it already."

His arms slide underneath where your laying, holding you to him as he hikes one of your legs up. He slides his free hand in over your leg - his forearm holding your thigh. You press your face to his neck and shoulder - hiding your expression. "Guess I should huh? You were always impatient,"

You can barely tell him to shut up, the way your body waits for it. A warbled little noise leaves your mouth as he slides his middle finger through the sticky folds of your cunt - careful as it catches on your hole. Wet and so aroused, the first finger he puts in goes in completely smoothly with no real effort

Umemiya speaks low and soft as he holds you. "I don't know if I can get used to seeing you like this. I'm glad no one else but me ever wil You’re really all I think about lately," He catches the lobe of your ear between his teeth gently. Your head spins. "People misunderstand you because you're prickly, you know? For a long time, only I knew what it felt like to be liked by you. I liked that,"

"Why are you—mmgh,"

He slides another finger in carefully after the first one slides inside of you with no resistance. His voice is so hot against your skin, the low bass of it in your skull as he speaks so close to your ear.

"Don't get me wrong I'm happy seeing you with so many people surrounding you. But I was a little sad too. And it kept getting worse over the years until I couldn’t ignore it. I couldn’t figure out why for a long time and then it clicked,” Umemiya explains. You realize half way delirious this is his real confession. God, you’re gonna kill him. “Suddenly it was all I thought about. I wanted to be special to you. I wanted to monopolize you. It was my first time having thoughts like that,”

Another finger slides into you easily. Umemiyas fingers are so much bigger than yours. Thicker than they are long. The stretch is enough to make you gasp.

“Hajime—“

He curls them up, careful until he finds the spot he’s looking for. Your body reacts, another sensation of pressure as his middle finger rubs tenderly against your gspot. You weakly try to wiggle away as he holds you firm.

“I felt a little guilty, too. You’re my very best friend. You’re independent and diligent. Tough. But you know, when I saw you for those few months - all I could think about was how much I wanted to spoil you,” He whispers. Something in your body shifts the way touches you. Pushes in further and further - stretching until it’s easy for him to be inside. “Somehow everything I liked about you became so cute I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t help but want to dote on you over every little thing even though I knew better than anyone you didn’t need something like that.”

Your eyes well up but not necessarily from emotion. Totally overwhelmed. You don’t feel like you’re gonna cum but there’s something else that’s waiting and each time he thrusts his fingers into you it comes a little closer. Your voice is shaking.

“It—fuck, quit talking. Somethings gonna—“

His smile grows a little. It’s the first time it looks so hungry.

“I was happy in general when I realized you liked me too. Even when you were being stubborn, I liked the way you couldn’t turn me away. I liked how happy you looked talking to me as usual as if that alone was something so precious,” He hums, so focused and precise as he stretches you open on a third finger but never once losing his train of thought. Like saying all of these comes to him so easily it doesn’t matter. “I didn’t want to corner you. But it felt like I couldn’t rest until you were mine completely. Which is why I’m being so unfair to you. Why I’m so persistent. ”

Your voice breaks on a whine. “It’s gonna come out—“

“You make a pretty face when your heads filled with nothing but me. I don’t think it’s bad to wanna stay that way,” He hums, almost conversational as he presses a kiss to your skin. “Go on. Let go,”

Something hot sprays between your legs as Umemiya fucks you open on all three of his fingers.

A rush of warm liquid squirts onto your sheets as your legs shake wearily. Umemiya marvels at the mess. Your hands curl into fists, nails digging in your palms as he finally pulls them out - leaving you stretched, almost gaping.

You lay limp in soaked sheets as you pull away from Umemiya with a very weak glare.

He’s smiling at you, dopey and lovesick.

“Too much?”

Angrily, you smack at his bare chest over and over, trying to recover your pride.

“You’re insane. What’s,” You swallow thickly. “What’s with you.”

He shrugs. Wordless, he flips you onto your back again before hovering over top of you. Pressing his forehead to yours, he brushes your noses together and plants a tentative peck on your lips as if trying to gauge whether or not you’re upset. He melts when you kiss him back, smiling happily.

“Were you like this with your other girlfriends? No wonder they broke up with you,”

He laughs. “Mm, no? I was more of a gentleman.”

You break out into another exhausted fit of laughter.

“Pfft, yeah? Guess I’m pretty special,”

“Yeah. You are.” He kisses you again. “Wanna keep going or are you too tired? I don’t mind if we sleep.”

“Stupid. I said it already didn’t I? Hurry up and fuck me.”

“Okay, okay. Let me go get the condom from my wallet,”

You wrap your legs around his waist and stare up at him plainly as he tries to move, keeping him pinned in place. You’re frowning, brows furrowed with a hard glare. He stares at you.

“Did you want something else? Water?”

“Want you to fuck me,” You restate, arms reaching up to circle around his neck. “Just do it already.”

He pulls back to look at you seriously.

“Do you know what you’re asking?”

You flush. “Of course I do. Stupid. Are you trying to get me to say it out loud?”

“I might think I’m deluding myself otherwise.”

You sigh, looking at him flatly as you try to tamp down the part of you that’s screaming to be more tactful.

“Don’t bother with the condom, a-alright? Or pulling out,”

He looks like he’s experiencing the shock of his life. “But…”

“Stop being dumb or I’m never gonna have sex with you again.”

He nods suddenly solemn. “Fine. But,”

You give him another look that silences him. He sighs again, getting the message before kissing your cheek and pull back to sit up on his knees between your legs. Pulling his briefs down, his cock springs free. It looks a lot bigger than you saw underneath the fabric, weighed down from it’s own weight even though it stands up stiff. He opened you up with three but you wonder if it’ll be enough not to stretch you open.

You reach your hand out to touch it tentatively, feeling it’s weight and heft. He clears his throat but seems content to let you. The palms of your hands cup the shaft, feeling all the veins pulse. The tip is sticky with precum. You pull your hand away, another sudden wave of self consciousness overwhelming you.

Umemiya hovers over you again, placing he length of his cock against your pussy. You shift a little feeling it slide against you, hard and hot.

“Gonna put it in now, okay?”

Nodding, you put your legs up. You take a deep breath when the head pushes in, letting out an involuntary noise. You feel well-stretched but the thickness of his cock is still enough to make you feel it in your legs. Umemiya is focused above you, barely sliding the tip through your folds as you open up around him. The air feels punched out of your lungs on just the first inch.

His face is strained is he holds his hips steady, leaning down to tap your foreheads together. “Feeling okay?”

“Mm,” You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Fine. Feels different.”

“Different?”

“Yours is bigger than all the stuff I own,” You explain. “Feels hotter. Harder, too.”

You feel his cock twitch inside of you suddenly, shocking you. He smiles sheepishly.

“Gonna push in a little more, okay?”

You nod, watching as Umemiya so slowly presses his cock into you further. Enough that it doesn’t hurt when you take him, as much as it just feels like something is inside of you. You feel a warm sense of satisfaction at how full you feel. You feel like him like he’s in your stomach, taking up so much space. After a while of pushing, stopping, and going again - he finally bottoms out.

“You feel incredible,” He murmurs, half-smile on his face. Your stomach flutters. “It’s hard not to cum right away. Feels so good inside of you. I love you.”

You feel yourself twitch, frowning at the expression of delight Umemiya has. You put your hand against his fact to keep him away but he kisses your palm and moves it. Bottomed out, he grasps both hands and holds them - pinning them to the bed as you watch him wide-eyed.

“Think you’re used to it?” He hums, clasping your fingers together. “Is it okay if I move?”

You feel so damn bashful. “It’s okay.”

He kisses your forehead. “I’ll go slow.”

As promised, Umemiya pulls out carefully before pushing back into you. You’re so wet that it slides in without any real friction. It takes a few thrusts of him going slowly for your body to get adjusted to the sensation. After a few motions, though - it starts to feel different.

Starts to feel good. Really, really good.

“Oh,” Your eyes flutter open. “Shit. You c-can go faster.”

“Yeah?”

You nod, trying not to seem too eager.

When Umemiya picks up pace, you feel your the whole lower half of your body weaken all over again. Something in your legs, your spine go soft against the bed underneath, a sudden unusual arousal swelling. Somewhere in deeper as he cocks thrusts against your gspot, knocking against it with more force than before. The change in pace coupled with the visual of Umemiya over you, face drawn together in focus as he fucks you is too much. Split open on his cock, you can hear how wet you are each time he moves.

“Feels…” Your words come up empty. “’s so much.”

“Yeah? Is it too much for you, baby?”

You shake your head as your thoughts get increasingly cloudy. It’s like there’s nothing else your body can focus on. The way his cock drags against your sensitive, silken walls. The feeling of being full to empty and then full all over again. The way your pussy gets so much wetter each time he moves, sloppy and sucking him in so tight. You can feel your body want for him.

Umemiya lets go of your hands, sliding one between your bodies. Palm resting on your sex, he lets his brush against your clit. The difference it makes is significant, makes your eyes go wide. He smiles a little, hair falling in his face as he pushes it up with his free hand.

“That’s it,” He hums, contented to keep at it like this. “Feels good, right? Your holding onto me so tightly it’s hard for me to pull out even though you’re so wet.”

You make a whiny noise and wonder if other peoples first times feel this good or if you’re just outrageously lucky. You decide on the latter he fucks you faster and matches his thrusts with the movement of his fingers. You’re warm all over - skin scorching as your hands find his biceps and shoulders to cling onto.

Your voice is so whiny when you call out for him “You’re so deep, ngh.”

He laughs, deep and raspy. “Yeah? Tell me what you’re feeling,”

“It feels good when you’re in me.” You reply drunkenly. “Want it faster. Please,”

He complies with your request almost immediately. You cry out loud, physically incapable of holding the sound in as he gets to fucking you faster and harder. Your pussy is throbbing. Senselessly horny, you pull Umemiya closer to you as he fucks you and smash your lips together. You feel so good, so thoroughly fucked and completely out of it. He’s in you but you want him even closer, want the scent of his skin to mark you.

A second time your body builds up to that familiar feeling but it’s so much farther inside. An orgasm pulled right from your core. Stomach tied in knots as Umemiya fucks you hard, you wrap your legs around his waist and take him.

“That’s it. You’re so good. Cum on my cock, sweet girl. Let me feel it” He murmurs against your skin, holding you close. “You’re making me feel so good. So cute. Go ahead, it’s okay. Let me see how good I’m making you feel.”

Pliant to his request, you hold onto Umemiya for dear life as your body gives into second orgasm. Your nails dig into his biceps as the built up arousal gives way pleasure - and you cum hard with his cock sheathed all the way inside of you. All the wind gets stolen from your lungs as you press forward with another kiss, your whole body trembling violently as you let go.

Umemiya sweet talks you through without letting go once, only stopping to take a pause when you’ve fully ridden out your high.

You stare up at him in a daze as he takes a breather to kiss you, still hard as he’s bottomed out inside of you.

“You gonna cum soon?”

“Mm,” He nods. “Yeah I’m close. If I move, I will.”

“’s okay to cum in me,”

Umemiya laughs warmly. “I’m already about too. You’re not helping,”

You smile a bit as you hug him close to you and tell him again that it’s fine. Before long, he holds you too, whispering the same three words into your neck as he finally lets it out. It’s a weird feeling, thick white ropes of seed spilling into the deepest parts of you.

You don’t really hate it, though.

“I love you,” Umemiya repeats. Tired you don’t try to fight yourself.

“Love you too,”

The next morning, you’re stirred away by the sound of your front door unlocking and the sound of Kotoha’s voice echoing through your apartment.

You’re still half-way asleep, so it barely dawns on you that anything is off. Not cognizant enough to think twice, your body tries to go back to sleep.

Or it does until you hear a very loud shout coming from your kitchen that wakes you up with a start.

“No fucking way,”

You sit up suddenly, hearing faint conversation before the sound of steps barreling towards your door. You just barely manage to pull the sheets up over your chest before she comes storming through the door of your bedroom.

You watch her eyes scan your entire room, mentally collecting data before she finally lands on you. As your brain starts to load back in, your eyes go wide with horror at the look of pure scandal on her face.

Fuck. You were supposed to be having dinner with her and Tsubaki tonight. Usually you confirm with them in the mornings since your up. It’s not uncommon for her to drop in when you don’t reply to check in since you live close by.

Fuck.

“You—Oh, I have to text Tsubaki-chan, I can’t believe—“

Before she gets to finish her sentence, Umemiya appears behind her in your door way. The sight of him only adds fuel to the flame of your embarrassment. You went another round or two before bed last night and it looks like it too. Shirtless in sweats he left over a while ago, his biceps are covered in scratch and with a few hickies, he’s wearing his hair down with a cup of tea and a very apologetic smile.

You cover your face with your hands unsure of how to deal with the feeling of pure mortification.

Kotoha snaps a picture of your room that causes even more distress.

“If you don’t delete that right now, I’m gonna kill us both.”

“In your dreams.”

Umemiya laughs warmly. “Please don’t kill each other.”

He slides past Kotoha coming over to you. Bending down to kiss your forehead, he pulls the blanket up over you so you’re more well-covered. You give him an incredulous but Umemiya is unfazed - smiling as bright as ever.

“Good morning,”

“I can’t believe my eyes,” Kotoha says. She points at Umemiya. “You, go put on a shirt.”

“Fine, fine. Stay for breakfast,” Umemiya says with a smile. “It’ll be nice having it with my two favorite people.”

You make another face as Umemiya gives you a long, affectionate look before disappearing. She sighs as she looks at you, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“I would ask if you’re gonna meet us for dinner but you don’t have a choice anymore so show up at seven. I’m gonna leave before that tactless idiot comes back. We’ll talk later.”

You nod in understanding. She turns to leave but then turns back with a genuine smile.

“And, well - congrats. He’s a tactless idiot but he does love you or whatever. Cherish each other,”

You flush, nodding your head. “Yeah…thanks.”

With that Kotoha leaves quickly. Umemiya returns still shirtless, pouting a little when he notices she’s gone.

“She left already?”

“Of course she did. I can’t believe you would invite her for breakfast.”

Umemiya shrugs. “No point being coy about it. I thought it’d be nice. I was looking for a shirt but I guess I don’t need one now,” He sits besides you on the bed, turning to face with a goofy smile. “Anyways, good morning.”

“You already said that.”

“You didn’t say it back,”

You frown. “G’morning,”

He smiles suddenly before grabbing you from underneath the blankets and sheets - pulling your naked body ontop of him as he grins. Sunlight pours through the window as he holds you to his chest, kissing the crown of your head before pressing his cheek into your hair.

“Mm, yeah. It’s a really good morning after all.”

“You’re stupid.”

“And you love me,”

You fail trying not to smile. Damn him. You're so happy it hurts. You roll your eyes.

“I guess so.”

#windbreaker x reader #umemiya x reader #windbreaker smut #umemiya smut #writing tag #umemiya hajime x reader #umemiya hajime smut #bro #im sorry if there are still typos i edited this so much

1K notes · View notes

koibitogata · 1 year ago

Text

frustration and anger.

creepypasta/mh x reader in which they get frustrated or angry, or, in BEN's case, are frustrating themselves. word count: 2.1k cw: abuse, descriptions of anger, arguments/quarrelling.

EJ doesn’t often get angry.

in fact, it’s hard to even frustrate him. Even when faced with particularly difficult patients to suture up—ahem, Jeff— he shows no sign of being fazed.

well, perhaps that’s because he’s used to living with Jeff and his reckless, barbaric antics.

but when he does get frustrated, it’s like a gradual intensification.

you like to split his frustration into three phases.

phase 1: EJ starts to seem a little off. Quieter than usual, less responsive, and more distant. Almost as if he’s in his own world, deceptively peaceful.

phase 2: EJ starts to show actual signs of being frustrated. You notice that it is at this point he may start to snap lightly at others, but with you, he tries his best to keep it to a minimum.

phase 3 is the climax before the drop. On occasion, he may raise his voice slightly and openly express irritation. But he always drops, hard and fast.

“I am so sorry, Y/N, I am so sorry,” he whispers, rubbing circles gently on your back. Though he has to bend over quite a bit (he’s a gentle giant at a height of 6’6 or about 2 meters), you find it to be very soothing that his frame envelops the entirety of yours.

oh, but that doesn’t mean he’s incapable of getting angry.

no, the anger you heard in his voice was undeniable as he roared at another member of the household to stay the fuck away from you.

you’d startled at the sheer sound of it, and quickly those trembles descended into violent shaking as you cried—his roar was simply not…human.

you flinched as he picked you up, just as gently as was the anger intense in that dreaded noise he made, a stark contrast in behavior, a jarring change in your body, mind and soul.

but other than that, you knew your darling EJ was back.

he plopped you onto his bed, surrounded by his sweet yet musky scent, nuzzling your neck and your face.

“I’m sorry”s were whispered countless times in your ear that night as you dozed off in the safety of his arms.

jeff

gotta put a trigger warning on this one. you know what to expect, but just in case you don’t, TW: Jeff is literally a murderer with abusive tendencies and anger issues.

at the start of your relationship, Jeff had been…well, to say the least, not the best partner.

he often got mad at you, whether it be keeping him waiting or spilling a cup of water.

yeah. spilling a cup of water.

but you understood why he was the way he was. he just couldn’t help it. but that didn’t mean you were going to stick around for it, no matter how much you loved him.

one day after a particularly huge argument, you found him crying in his room. his sniffles were unmistakable, but you knew you’d have to pretend you hadn’t heard from ten feet away.

turns out, angsty little Jeff here wasn’t completely unaware of himself.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he had sobbed as quietly as he could. “I know I’m a bad boyfriend, I know, I keep lashing out at you and I’m so sorry.”

your relationship could have very well ended that day if you hadn’t found Jeff crying on the floor.

but even though he’d hurt you so many times, you took him back into your arms.

and so you taught him to manage his anger, though it took you immense effort, energy and bravery.

he’d always help, though, by reminding you it was okay to yell back at him. you chided him lightly for it, saying that it’d just cause a back and forth.

“oh, right. my bad. sorry, doll,” he had said with a sheepish grin.

today, you are proud to boast that you trained your bloodhound boyfriend to be a tame dog. hell, he even does whatever you tell him to now, albeit sometimes reluctantly.

but he understands that if he loves you, he must make sacrifices upon sacrifices. you did that for him.

now it is his turn to sacrifice himself for you.

masky - tim

it’s not really uncommon that Tim gets angry.

but his anger is almost always the quiet kind.

he will “hmph” and huff lightly, a mild kind of anger you both can still joke about, though his face will redden at it.

you can’t help it though, the sass he gives you when he’s lightly frustrated is too good to let slip past.

oh, but when his anger gets loud—

it’s no longer a harmless little nip.

it’s been directed everywhere. everywhere, his teammates, the table, the card game he’s losing a bit too embarrassingly to Toby who’s being an unbearable little ass about it.

but never you.

okay, it was one time.

but Tim decided it was one time too many. (as he should)

he’d raised his voice at you, more so out of frustration rather than anger.

and you flinched.

and oh, how that little flinch broke his heart.

he shut up immediately, gathering you into his arms, whispering “oh, I’m so sorry, darling”, and “you’re okay, you’re okay”.

he never did it again. ever.

now, when you both get angry at each other, it always devolves into stupid little giggles and kicking.

hoodie - brian

Brian doesn’t really get angry, nor does he get frustrated.

normally, at least.

something shines in his eyes when he is defied, a shadow of a grin, a curl of the lip—

you spend a couple days investigating this, defying him little by little.

“Y/N, could you pass me the water?” “No.” and you’d say it with a cheeky smile on your face to match this strange expression on his.

it evolved into much greater things, “Y/N, come over here for a bit.” “Nope!”

“Y/N, help me up.” “Nope!”

your gleeful defiance doesn’t have a complete zero effect, either. with each silly little “nope”, the glint in his eyes grows brighter. and you know that the cup you’ve slowly been filling the past few days is about to overflow.

it’s one fateful day that you happily defy him once again, and—

oh. something’s grabbing at your jaw, and your lover’s face is so close to yours.

he smiles so gently at you, so purely. but his grip on your jaw says otherwise.

firm like iron, reprimanding, but not harmful or venomous. you know he isn’t going to hurt you, but oh, he isn’t letting you go either.

“Y/N,” he says calmly. “You’ve been a little more uncooperative than usual.”

the shiver it sends down your spine isn’t one of fear. excitement, rather.

he lets you go, but guides you to the bed. “Sit,” he commands.

so you do. what else are you to do when your lover commands you so well?

“Good girl.”

so you never say no to him again, not when it comes to harmless favors.

Brian does not get angry or frustrated…at least, not like the normal person does.

toby

Toby becomes a very bitter cynic when upset, spitting sarcasm wherever he goes.

his BPD only makes it worse. his relationship with Tim is already strained as it is, with the latter trying his best (as much as a man with anger issues can), and his relationship with Brian being almost entirely carried by the older man.

and his relationship with you, oh his sweet vogel, his darling dove— he doesn’t know what to think of it. some days he lets loose around you, tickling you and blowing raspberries against your cheeks, and others he’s withdrawn, curled up into a ball in his bed, and so you dive in with him, nuzzling him against his sheets long overdue for a change.

but if it’s neither of those, he’s lashing out. sometimes you can’t even look at him when he walks into the room bringing dark clouds over the atmosphere. that’s when you know you can’t look up at him.

and when you make the mistake of looking up, your smile meets a scowl.

“what are you looking at.” he’ll spit, and then storm off, as if he can’t stand your eyes on him.

and it’s true, your eyes gaze at him with such gentleness, he can’t bring himself to stare back sometimes. especially when he’s in a bad mood, because he breaks inside as he sees his own eyes burn the love in your eyes, reducing them to ashes of fear.

“vogel,” he’d whisper at night, lying next to you in your bed. “i’m sorry.”

he apologizes so much and so often you no longer make a big deal out of it, but this time, his soft whisper is laced with such heavy guilt, your arms move before your mind thinks, pulling him into a soft embrace.

oh, but this bad mood is nothing compared to his jealousy.

Jeff gets close to you? Jeff is suddenly on the ground, blood leaking from his head and EJ hurriedly dragging the former away, admonishing him about not messing with Toby’s precious human.

Tim comforts you about Toby’s outbursts? suddenly he’s against the wall, Toby growling and spitting in his face. if he can’t be there for you, then no one else gets to be there for you either. though, he knows this is selfish.

if he could help it, he’d let you go to whomever you wanted for comfort. but oh, his heart aches so.

and his jealousy is nothing compared to how angry he gets at himself, bashing the walls of the manor, crying out at night, because he can’t be there for you like a normal boyfriend.

he doesn’t know this, but you’re in a corner too, muffled sobs, tears, nose dripping and all.

so at night, you crawl back into bed before he notices you, and lie awake till he comes back.

as his breathing settles and his snoring begins, you hug him just a little bit tighter, your sweet vogel with broken wings.

ben

you have to admit, BEN is really, really freaky.

in the way he plays his games, the way he treats his archnemesis Jeff, in bed—oops.

but particularly, in the way he seems to have an endless tolerance for things that would usually upset someone.

he just. fucking giggles.

“aww, my sweet Y/N is so cute when she’s mad~”

context: he pissed you off and you’re currently in the middle of admonishing him with your whole heart and soul.

conversely, you’re the one who gets mad right back at him.

within the hour, he presents you with a tiktok with two cats that says: me when i’m venting and all my bf does is make jokes

he cackles to the ends of the earth and proceeds to make even more jokes

frankly, when the topic of frustration comes up with BEN’s name in the same sentence, you pretty much just think of him being the frustrating asshole in the relationship.

“BEN, give me my fucking phone back.”

he’s dangling it over your head, using the fact that he’s a floating apparition that can somehow interact with physical objects to his advantage.

once, you got so frustrated at him that you cried.

thankfully, he had the decency to pause, panic, and reflect on his actions.

“oh.” five seconds passed and your crying didn’t get better (what did he expect?). he repeated himself. “oh.”

“actually say something, you idiot!” you sobbed. and this is what snapped BEN into action. (you can’t believe you actually had to tell him to comfort you.)

“oh.” then he realized he’d just been saying “oh” like a broken record. “um.”

so he wraps you up in a blanket like a burrito, and holds you close to his chest.

“i’m sorry.”

“promise not to do it again?” you look up at him with your best puppy eyes.

“…i can’t promise.” you can tell he’s holding back a cheeky grin.

you whine and hit him lightly.

but you know very well that he loves you; this frustration merely comes with him as a package.

3K notes · View notes

ficsilike-reblogged · 7 days ago

Text

Shelter - 1

Summary: You save Soap's life. It might have ruined yours. But now you're stuck with the 141 and the man named Ghost won't stop looking at you. Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley/F!Reader (No Y/N) Warnings For This Chapter: Canon typical violence, my attempt at writing Soap's accent, soft Simon, military inaccuracies, canon divergence right off the bat.

A/N: My first COD fic! I hope you guys like it. It will be a slow burn because Reader needs a hug and therapy and Simon is awkward but also needs a hug. Enjoy!

This had been your first vacation in ten years. Ten. You had wanted to wander around London, see the sites, eat pub food, try to see how much the city had changed since you had last visited, ages ago when you had a summer internship at the British Museum. And now you were bleeding out on this shitty, dirty floor. There was shouting somewhere to your left as you hazily stared up at the dark ceiling.

You had made it three days before some guy pulled you off the sidewalk and shoved you into the back of a van. There had been a sharp pain in your neck before the dark came. When you came to, your hands had been tied and you were in the belly of an abandoned tube station, if you were guessing. Your captors were speaking Russian—rapidfire and stilted, but you did recognize some of it. Most of it. Maybe. If your undergraduate studies were still holding up. But you did know something for sure: you were curled up and hiding near a bomb. To keep your mind from wandering about when you were going to be the next hostage shot or when the bomb would explode, you started repeating whatever you heard to yourself, quiet and low. Cities, people’s names, shipments, shipments, shipments. You hadn’t done this in years, your therapist would have a field day, but this was better than the waiting. This was better than the pleading your fellow hostages were doing, begging for their lives.

You kept repeating what you learned. More shipments. More cities.

An immeasurable amount of time dragged on; how many days and nights passed, you couldn’t tell, but you knew exactly how many other hostages your kidnappers had killed before you were the only one left. And you weren’t entirely sure if it was because they had other plans for you or if they had actually forgotten you were there, huddled near the bomb. Perhaps you had taken the saying, “the closer we are to danger, the further we are from harm,” too seriously.

But it mattered little when the fighting started and a too warm hand clapped on your arm. And then the brightest pair of blue eyes were staring at you. The man had the most ridiculous mohawk you’d ever seen but you couldn’t really tell him that, not when he was pressing a finger to his lips. A quick glance down showed his UK flag patch on his vest and you felt the smallest bit of tension slip from your shoulders.

“I’ma get ye outta here, lass,” he said, Scottish brogue winding through your ears.

You only nodded and let him move you into a crouched position. He and another man in a ridiculous hat worked on defusing the bomb, working in tandem on either side as your eyes swept toward the door. You were nearly there. Nearly free.

You were going to get out of here. You were going to live. You were going to see your sister and her baby. You-

-Came to a hard stop when the shooting started.

You curled into a ball behind the bomb as the shouting started but then you heard that ridiculous Scottish accent again. And yes, it was stupid. But you had always been a little stupid. You were on your feet again, hands still tied in front of you, before you could think of anything else to do and ran, shoulder down into the man tussling with the Scot and another man in the dumbest hat you’d ever seen. The man with the gun let out a wet ‘oof’ when your shoulder connected with his side and you both fell to the dirtied floor. You hadn’t even heard the gun go off.

Hadn’t felt anything but a heat blooming across your shoulder.

And then your knees buckled. “Oh.”

A quick glance to the left saw your once white shirt now a dark crimson. Pity. You’d liked this top. Your blood was roaring in your ears but you did remember someone saying the bomb was defused…that was good. Great. Wonderful.

A choked gasp was torn from your throat when large hands clamped over your shoulder and you saw those blue eyes again. “Now, why’d ye go and do that? Made a mess, ye did.”

“Next time,” you ground out between clenched teeth, “I’ll let you get shot.” Dark dots were starting to cloud your vision even as the grip on your shoulder grew tighter. You vaguely heard him shouting for someone to throw him something before he turned back to you. He was bleeding, too, crimson streaked across his face and neck. More of it slithered down his arm.

“We’ll get this cleaned up. Cannae have a bonnie lass bleedin’ out in a place like this.”

And you had to smile. You did, even if you looked absolutely insane, because this was probably the first time in over a decade that someone was nice to you and you had been shot.

And then the Grim Reaper loomed over you, skull bright as he blotted out the light above him.

“Fuck.” The word slurred on your heavy tongue. “Guess I’m dead, then.” The ridiculousness of the situation was not lost on you, even as the light faded and you were out cold.

Your eyes opened slowly, weighed down and scratchy. It took a moment for you to realize you were in a hospital room, small, stuffy, and a worn shade of off-white. Uncoordinated fingers plucked at the thin, bleach-stiff sheets across your hips before you tugged at the neckline of the light blue hospital gown and frowned at the large dressing taped over your shoulder. A single wiggle against the flat pillow let you know you had a matching one on your back. Wonderful.

Well, at least you weren’t dead?

The door opened and a bespectacled man popped his head in. His bright eyes connected with yours for just a moment before the door snapped shut again.

What just happened?

You got your answer a handful of minutes later when your tiny room was filled with several more people, doctors and nurses checking you over and a woman—Laswell, you think she said her name was—staring at you from her place in the corner. She was biding her time, you knew that. Her American drawl had thrown you for just a moment, a stark contrast to the English accents coming at you from all directions. You tried to keep up with all the information they tossed at you, about your stitches, the physical therapy you’d need, how to keep movement to a minimum before helping you into a sling to keep your arm immobilized. It went on and on. The pain meds were keeping you from scratching at your shoulder but it did feel a little like your brain was swimming through your skull.

And three of them said the same thing: “You’re lucky you’re alive. It nearly nicked your subclavian artery and you would have bled out.”

Comforting.

And through it all, Laswell was quiet but when she pushed off the wall, the group of medical professionals dispersed.

“You’ve been through a lot.”

You said nothing as she stepped closer and set a manilla envelope on your bedside.

Her eyes darted to the envelope for a moment, obviously expecting you to take it but she continued on, unperturbed for now, when you did not. “From what I understand, you saved a man’s life and gave them an opening to be able to diffuse the bomb. I would actually say that all of London owes you their gratitude.”

“I doubt I’ll get it though, right?”

Laswell smiled. “Good. You’re smart.” But she still tapped at the folder again.

Fine. You picked up the folder and undid the thin rope closure as best you could with one hand and tipped it open across your lap, spilling paper and pictures across the blanket. One was of the man with the mohawk. And then… “Wait. He’s real?” You plucked one of the pictures up and waved it around like a flag. “I thought he was the Grim Reaper.” A man in a skull mask was staring back at you, large and hulking, and draped entirely in black aside from the SAS patch in the middle of his vest.

“You wouldn’t be the first to think that. But probably the only one to see him like that and live to tell anyone about it.”

Again, so comforting.

You flipped the picture over to see Ghost written in neat, small letters across the bottom. What kind of name was Ghost? He wasn’t a ghost. You flipped over a handful of the other pictures and learned the mohawk belonged to “Soap.” “Gaz” and “Price” soon followed—ah, he was the one with the ridiculous hat. But it was the last picture that had your heart stalling.

Vladimir Makarov was written in that same, small script.

“He’s dead, right?” Your voice shook as you stared down at the picture. “Tell me he’s dead.”

Laswell’s measured silence was all you needed before you hurriedly stuffed the photos and paper back into the folder.

“My flight back to Chicago is leaving on the tenth. What day is it?” You asked, tossing the folder to the foot of the bed. The simple motion had your other shoulder protesting, heat rippling across your chest and down your spine.

“It’s the ninth.”

Relief flooded through you. This would be over soon and you were never going to take another vacation, no matter what your sister told you. “Great. I’ll be out of the country in a couple of hours. Do I need to sign something or-”

Laswell frowned and took a few steps toward you and tension once again wound itself through your spine with each of them. “I don’t think you understand. Makarov’s plan didn’t work because of you-”

“Debatable.”

“-and you saved one of the men who Makarov has a personal vendetta against.”

The heart rate monitor was now leaping all over the place, beeping a sharp staccato into the tense air. You didn’t like this. You didn’t like this at all. “So? Makarov doesn’t know who I am. One of his lackeys grabbed me. He barely saw me.” You had been one of many, another faceless victim to his whims.

But Laswell shook her head. “I guarantee it; he will not forget you.”

Funny. You’d been forgotten by almost everyone else and you were apparently unmissable to a psychopath. “I am supposed to be going home. I want to go home.”

She took another step. “I’m afraid that until Makarov is in custody, it is safer for you to stay-”

“Am I being arrested?” You bit out.

“No.”

“Then I’m free to go.”

Laswell’s lips rolled into her mouth for a moment. “No.”

Traitorous tears stung at your ears. Stupid, so stupid. You hadn’t cried in front of someone else in decades. Tears didn’t help with anything and here you were, crying in a hospital bed in front of a stranger. “I need to go home.”

Another step and she looked down at you, eyes just shy of pitying. “You’ll be dead before you get off the plane.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.” She took the folder and opened it again, pulling out one of the papers you hadn’t read and another picture. She set both on your leg with a sigh. “You were taken out of London when you were stable enough to move.”

The next breath stalled in your lungs. “What?”

“Makarov has a long reach. You were wrapped up in it the moment you saved Soap. The hospital room in London that simply had your name on the door was raided. They killed a nurse.” Every new bit of information was a punch to the stomach, leaving you wheezing for breath and throat aching. “Makarov doesn’t do half measures. And he’s in the wind right now and staying quiet since his plan for London failed.”

Something you hadn’t touched in years started to bubble beneath your skin. A rage you hated. The rage that had kept you alive as a kid. “Then do your fucking job and get him. I’m going home.”

“Any word? Movement?” Gaz asked as Simon looked over the print outs of intel and loops of camera footage from the tunnels where Makarov could have fled.

“Nothing.”

Nothing.

He hated it. He hated not knowing.

There were leads, of course. Strings to be pulled on to see where they could go.

But Makarov was in the wind. And every night, he heard the woman on the other side of the thin wall cry whenever she thought no one would hear.

You did not go home. Instead, you were bustled out of the makeshift hospital room and into yet another infuriatingly beige room, your shoulder smarting with the movement even with the sling. At least the baggy sweats they’d let you wear were comfortable. You recognized Soap as Laswell had you sit in a cold metal chair on one side of the table.

“Good ta see ye up and about, lass,” Soap said. The stitches across his face were mostly covered by butterfly bandages that crinkled when he smiled at you. He then pointed at his own sling, barely holding his bulky arm up. “We match.”

You almost returned the smile. Almost. “Glad you’re not dead, too, I guess.”

“I wanted to get a look at ye,” Soap said. “Properly thank ye fer saving my life.”

Your mouth twitched into a small smile. “I think it was a mutual saving. You defuse a bomb, I keep you from getting your brains blown out. We can call it even.”

He laughed, hearty and jovial. “Ye’re tough. That’s good. Ye’ll need it.”

He was trying to be nice to you, you knew that. He seemed nice. Really! But you still felt the snark and sarcasm trying to climb its way out of your throat. You bit it back, probably grimacing the entire time. “I’m not the one shipping off to Kastovia.”

The smile slipped from Soap’s face. “What?”

You stared at him for a moment, trying to read his expression. “I assumed that was where you were going? The guys in the tunnels mentioned it a couple of times.”

“You speak Russian?” Laswell cut in.

What was this line of questioning? You turned as best you could to look at her. “Yeah, sorta. I took a few classes in undergrad.”

“And you didn’t think to mention you overheard anything while you were held captive?”

“You’re CIA. He’s SAS,” you said, hooking a thumb over your shoulder to point at Soap. Your stitches protested immediately, knocking the wind from your lungs for a moment. “I kinda figured you guys had all the information you could get from that shitshow.”

Soap rose from his seat and left the room without a look back as Laswell rounded the table to stare down at you. “You had information and didn’t share it. You know how that looks.”

“I was shot. Did you forget that?” You bit back. “Then you tell me I can’t go home. What was I supposed to do? When was I supposed to offer up any of this? When I was unconscious?”

Laswell’s eyes narrowed a fraction. “You don’t trust me.”

The scoff tore itself out of your throat before you could even try to stop it. Scoffing at a CIA agent probably wasn’t your smartest move, but, again, you knew you were kinda stupid. “Wow. Look at you. That scary CIA training is paying off, huh? Love to see my tax dollars hard at work.”

The door opened again and Ghost walked in, shoulders nearly brushing each edge of the frame.

Your entire body tensed as he quietly neared the table and took the seat Soap had vacated. Laswell nodded at him and he tipped the point of his cloth-covered chin. And then she was gone with a snap of the door behind her. You pulled your gaze back to the man…the behemoth…in front of you. His mask was no less unnerving than it had been in the tunnel when you thought he was the Grim Reaper coming to usher your soul into the ether.

But this close you could see the dark honey of his eyes and that turned something else in the dark shadows of your chest.

And you knew you couldn’t be afraid. Not now.

“Ask me anything,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant. But what if they didn’t believe you? What if he really would be the last face you saw, like you had believed in the tunnel? “I’ve nothing to hide.”

He huffed. If it were anyone else, you might have guessed it was a laugh. His eyes, hooded and dark, dragged over you. “We’ll see, bird.” In one swift movement, he placed a handgun on the table and then reached across to grab your uninjured arm. He pulled it toward him before you could even think of pulling back. He twisted his grip on your wrist to have your palm up and only then did he release you.

You knew better than to retreat. You needed them to believe you—you were the victim in all of this. You. Not them. You. If you had to sit here with the Grim Reaper to prove it, you would. But it was when he tugged the glove from one of his hands that you felt your next breath stutter behind your teeth. And you were sure he felt it when he pressed the tips of his fingers against the delicate skin of your wrist’s underbelly.

He was warm. Solid. And oh god were you really this touch starved? That the man tasked with interrogating you—to make sure you weren’t a terrorist—was making you burn all over like a schoolgirl? It didn’t help that you felt his broad legs on either side of yours beneath the table.

Get it together.

He asks you questions and you answer. Truthfully. You listed all the places you’d heard, names you could decipher, cargo, shipments, everything. Anything.

Ghost listened to it all with that same hooded stare anchored on your face. Someone else probably would have squirmed under his gaze but you didn’t. If anything, his immovable presence was weirdly comforting. What was wrong with you?

And when you were done, when you had exhausted any and every bit of information you thought you had squirreled away from your time in the tunnel, the man in front of you simply drummed his fingers against your pulse and stood, putting his gun back in its holster and pulling his glove back on.

Funny, you hadn’t realized there were more bones stitched on them, too. At least he was consistent.

He strode toward the door and then turned back to stare at you again, unblinking. “Stay put.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly allowed to leave.”

His dark eyes narrowed for a moment and he huffed. Was it a laugh? You didn’t know, but you wanted it to be. But he left the room before you could ask.

It had been a risk, he knew, and had done it anyway. She could have been a spy, a trained one, good at deception and emitting pity. But he had felt her heartbeat skitter beneath his fingers, an impromptu lie detector. Simon knew she was being truthful. An open book.

A rare thing in times like these.

Well, open enough for him to believe her answers and her muttered instance that she wasn’t “some sort of Russian plant” because she wasn’t “dumb enough to be a criminal.” She was…something else. Simon wasn’t quite sure what that something was, but he knew that he thought of the curve of her bottom lip when he left the room and reported what he learned to Laswell and Price.

The pair looked at each other, matching looks of knowing on their faces. Her knowing about Kastovia hadn’t been expected but it didn’t seem like she knew that they (Gaz and Price) had already gone and had been led on an infuriating game of hide-and-seek with the transport of the Sarin gas. If the bird had been awake (or more willing to share what she’d heard before), they would have been back on base days earlier because it had been exactly where she’d said they would be.

“We need to keep this quiet. Makarov already knows she’s alive and at least suspects that she heard something. He wouldn’t’ve sent his men to the hospital if he didn’t.” Laswell scratched at her chin. “If any more of her intel pays off, this could be invaluable.”

The two continued, looking over the points Simon had written down after leaving that tiny room. And there had been shipments and their locations, names of people who probably would receive them, and then targets. Possibly. It was so much more than what they’d had when Makarov had vanished into the belly of the tunnel.

“She’s given us gold.”

“Or an unpinned grenade.” Laswell sighed and flipped through the pages again, handing one to Price and they spoke again in low tones. Simon listened, as he always did. They would still be sent out, following those breadcrumbs, with glowing red letters.

Something twisted in Simon’s chest, behind the crooked and dark ribs, and he thought of that curve of her bottom lip. “What happens to ‘er?”

You didn’t mind paperwork. Not really. Was it your favorite thing? No. But it was a fact of life that paperwork was inevitable. You almost liked that most of it was the same: sign here, date here, birthdate here. Easy. Simple. Unchanging.

But you weren’t entirely in love with how you knew you were basically signing your life away as Soap stood sentinel in the corner, his matching sling still around his bulging arm. They’d already “handled” your job, telling your supervisor that you had been injured and would be taking a leave of absence from work.

They promptly fired you.

Laswell winced at that and then said that “they” would take care of it. Who “they” were, you didn’t know and didn’t have the wherewithal to ask at the moment. But she inferred that your bills would be paid by someone else so you didn’t really care. Whatever. You’d been an archivist at one of the many museums in Chicago, cataloging anything and everything that came in. It had been good work, to be fair. You were actually using your degrees and the fact that they had you working overnight was almost a perk. It was nice to not have to worry about coworkers’ feelings or them microwaving fish in the communal microwave when you were trying to work.

But…whatever. It was fine. This was…fine.

You were given three meals a day and sometimes a snack. Tea in the early afternoon, much to your delight. You had a warm bed. Things could be worse.

Whenever the doctors or nurses would come in and check on your stitches and your range of movement, he—Ghost—would just be there. In the background. Waiting. Silent and unmoving.

And the painkillers you were given must’ve been some good stuff because you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Or maybe his unhurried gaze was weirdly comforting. Knowing he was there, was always going to be there, was nice. A weird constant in the upheaval of your life. (And maybe you should call up your therapist after you finally get home.)

You signed your name on the last paper and then managed to stack everything neatly with one arm before handing it to Soap who took it with a small smile. “Ye’re handling this well.”

“Yeah.” Been through worse, is what you could have said. But worse was debatable. At least in some regard. You could handle being fired. You had savings. You could find another job. Your sister always said you had the uncanny ability to land on your feet. You’d let her keep that assumption. It wouldn’t be the first one she’d made about you. “Can I make a phone call now?”

Soap tapped a finger against the papers and his blue eyes were full of pity. You almost hated it. “I’ll ask Laswell.”

Well, that wasn’t a firm no, at least.

It had been a few days since your interrogation with Ghost. You had deduced that you were on a military base of some sort, with the people walking by in uniform and the staccato of gun shots at exactly eight o’clock in the morning, every morning. Probably a firing range. While you weren’t allowed out of your beige hospital room, they were kind enough to bring you a few very well worn novels to help pass the time. Again…it was fine.

The door opened a few minutes later and Ghost and Laswell walked in, a large black brick looking contraption tucked beneath Laswell’s arm. Your heart stuttered for just a moment. A satellite phone?

“You need to understand that anyone you call could be in danger. Used against you.”

The next breath rattled behind your teeth. You had expected that. You knew that. But your sister deserved at least something. “Did you see her in my file?”

“Who?”

“My sister.”

Laswell’s answering quiet was all you needed. Good.

“I’ll keep it quick,” you said, stretching out your good arm toward the phone. “Promise.”

“Any funny business-”

“I’ll expect a bullet between the eyes. Yeah, sure. Can I please have the phone?”

Ghost made that huffing sound again and you felt the corners of your mouth push into a twitching smile for just a heartbeat to two. The phone was weighty in your palm as you plugged in the number and held it up to your ear. It rang twice before… “Hello?”

“Hey, Kirby.”

There was an answering giggle and it shifted a weight on your shoulders. “Hey stranger! I thought you were living it up in London for a few days more? Thought you were gonna call me when you were home.”

“Oh, um. So there’s been a change of plans. I’m gonna stay for a little longer. I’ve been asked to consult at one of the archives here.”

Kirby hummed, crackling the line. “Consult. You’re so important. That mean you left-”

“They fired me, actually.”

She gasped. You imagined her clutching her phone tighter, placing another hand over her heart. She was always so delicate. Outraged on your behalf, too. “No!”

“Yeah. But it’s okay. You said I needed a new job anyway.” You shut your eyes, feeling them burn with tears. Lying to her didn’t feel right. She was the only person in the world you trusted.

“They were awful to you. But, you always land on your feet, don’t you?”

You smiled despite it all, wobbly and crooked. God, you missed her. “I try. But I didn’t want you to worry if you didn’t hear from me for a bit as I get settled here.”

Kirby laughed. “You’re the worrier, not me.”

“That’s true.” You were. And even know, with a bullet wound and a supposed bounty on your head, you worried about your little sister. You might worry about her forever, actually.

“You’ll still be able to make it to the delivery, right?” The smallest bit of trepidation dipped into the syllables. Kirby wasn’t scared often and it twisted at your marrow. “I need you to hold my hand.”

You opened your eyes and looked at Laswell and Ghost, lifting your chin a bit. You were going to be there. Come hell or high water. Or more terrorists. “Wouldn’t miss it, Kirbs. You know that.” You eventually said your goodbyes and “I love you” and “I love you, too” before ending the call with a quiet, “give the little one a hello for me, okay?”

The phone clicked in your hand and you let it slip back into Laswell’s grip when she reached for it. “Any other family you need to call that weren’t in any of your files?” The question was tinged with exhaustion.

You didn’t feel bad. “No. It’s just her.”

Laswell frowned but said nothing else as she strode from the room.

You expected Ghost to follow. He seemed fond of doing that. But he didn’t. His unmoving stare was anchored on you. “Why wouldn’t your file show your sister?”

Well, he certainly cuts to the chase. “It’s a long story.”

His large arms crossed over his broad chest (you ignored how your heart hiccuped. God he was so big.) “We’ve got time.”

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you think!

#simon riley x reader #Simon Ghost Riley x reader #Ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #cod fanfic #cod x reader #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #female reader

901 notes · View notes

oceantornadoo · 13 days ago

Text

ch7 something borrowed something blue (mafia!price x simon's sister!reader)

tw: oral sex both ways

masterlist | next

John Price thrives on routine. His days are filled with meetings and bloodshed, negotiations and betrayal. Routine keeps him sane.

Unfortunately, that resolution crumbled the moment he gained a wife. It’s getting harder and harder to leave in the morning, to ignore the fluttering of your eyelashes as you feign sleep. That’s what he blames for this break in routine.

The morning after, he stays for ten minutes instead of five. Counts the ticks of the old clock in the corner of his room as he memorizes the scent of your skin. You always end up with your head in the crook of his neck, legs tangled around his torso. He’s never been much of a back sleeper, but now it’s the last thing he cares about. It’s the sound of your breathing, the plushness of your skin, the brush of your chest against his. When he eventually gets up, he doesn’t look at the bed until he’s ready. If he glanced back at your eyes in half-slits, shifting closer to his pillow to soak up the remaining warmth he left in the bed, he would never leave the room.

At night, though, he succumbs to his weakness. He creates a new routine.

It’s the start of a new week after the getting-off confession. John had business in Glasgow over the weekend, lonely and cold in his hotel bed, but now he’s back.

“So Laswell sent me the contract. I definitely have enough to pay in full, but I’m thinking of paying half and then doing installments for the rest so I can have enough for immediate repairs. What do you-John?” John’s nodding along to your rant, disappearing under the covers to the place he’s been thinking about all weekend. The blanket’s a bit heavy, limiting his breathing, but it’s worth it for the sight of your clothed cunt, waiting for him.

“Keep talkin’, sweetheart.” Instead of following his orders, you peel back the cover until his head peeks out. “What are you doing?” He rubs circles into your thighs, reveling in their softness. John moves upwards, teasing the fabric of your pajama shorts. “You miss me this weekend?” He murmurs, not sure if he’s talking to his wife or her cunt. Both seem happy to see him, if that’s any consolation.

“No, I actually got the best sleep of my- hey!” He shoves his face into the triangle of your lap, sniffing with wonder. “Fuck, I missed ya.” You’re silent at his admission, but your hand finds a hold in his hair. “You did?” It’s soft and unsure, forcing him to rip his focus away from your pussy. “I did.” You bite your lip adorably. You tug him forward, gripping his scalp hard, until his face is in front of yours.

“Maybe next time, you take me with you.” Absolutely not. He was meeting with a new prospective manufacturer, shady and dangerous. He was not putting you in any sort of danger. John shakes his head, heart clenching as your face falls. “Not the kind of place fer you, baby. Gonna let me eat you out now?” You nod, but your face is still hard with repressed emotion. He kisses your forehead, trailing down to your cheek, then nose. “Give us a kiss then.” It’s the first time you’ve ever kissed him first, the notion sending blood straight to his cock. The kiss is short and sweet. Can’t believe how quickly you’ve gotten him under your spell. Two bloody weeks. He pulls away, a final kiss laid to your jaw. “Keep talkin’. Don’t mind me.”

The new routine continues for weeks. He gets you off a different way every night, from fingers to tongue to plain old grinding. And then he goes to sleep with you tucked to his side, taking care of himself in the morning. John needs you to be the one to ask to fuck, to reciprocate. The alternative leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. Plus, every time he gets you off, you fall asleep immediately, like it’s the only way you’ll go to bed. It’s terribly endearing.

A month in, he starts noticing changes. The furniture in the sitting room, for one. They used to be 18th century relics, designed to make sure a guest didn’t overstay their welcome. Except now they’re eclectic, blue and green against the cream walls. The couches look comfortable, like you could spend a whole day there. The paintings change as well, from Rembrandt to Monet and Picasso. The impressionist works, blues and greens and yellows, work well with the new furniture, making his flat seem like a home. When he asks you, all you do is shrug and say something smart about updating his old man apartment. He leaves bite marks on your thighs that night.

It’s a beautiful Friday night when John gets home early, around 9. He usually gets text updates from Terrance, your commandeered security guard that Price assigned to you full time, about your movements. You’ll usually get home at 7, but nothing yet. Two hours late. He calls Terrance and gets his voicemail. Highly unusual. Calmly, he presses on your contact's name, and it goes to voicemail. Three times.

Fingers shaking, he calls Kyle.

“Sir?”

“Where is she?”

“Who?”

“My fuckin’ wife, Garrick.”

“Isn’t she with Terrance?” “No one’s answerin’ their goddamn phone.” Gaz sighs on the other end, like this is an inconvenience and not his wife they’re talking about. Keys click, then a mouse, before Gaz answers. “They’re at the bookstore. Been there since this mornin’, sir.” John drags a hand down his face, then grabs the keys to the car he barely uses.

“Garrick, this is the last time you take more than three seconds t’ know where she is. I want a full team on ‘er at all times. I won’t hesitate t’ assign someone else as my Head of Security, someone who isn’t lettin’ their judgement take over their goddamn job. Copy?” He hasn’t dressed down one of his men, especially Kyle, but he’s tired of the man’s judgement on this marriage. What’s done is done. “Yessir.” John hangs up, too miffed to say goodbye. He’s got a wife to find.

Your bookstore is coming along well. It’s been over a month since you’ve been married, a month of John’s fingers and tongue loosening you in more ways than one. You swear you’ve developed stronger thigh muscles, simply from the orgasms he coaxes from you night after night. And then he just goes to sleep. You’ve felt his cock in fleeting touches, brushing against your thigh or hard in his lap as you grind on him. He never takes it out, never drags your hand in that grueling way men do with shady eyes and slimy smirks. Every night, he asks you if you hate him, and every night, your lie convinces him less and less.

And every night, you think of how adamant he was against you joining him. His insistence that it “wasn’t the kind of place for you.” Your old problem with him has faded, a mess of childhood fears rolled into new ones. In its place are your insecurities, the word bastard floating through your head every time you think of his rejection. The clause in the marriage contract. It rolls together into a simple thought: he doesn’t trust you. That’s why he’s barely let you in on his business, content to stick with late night chats and orgasms. It should be fine, it should be what you wanted, but instead you feel a hollow hole in your heart where the word ‘friends’ lives. Even friends should share their secrets.

But back to the bookstore. Your new baby. This first month was full of cleaning, dusting out odd corners and greasing creaky door hinges. You listed a hiring notice on online job boards, looking for an assistant to help with the grunt work. Which landed you Phil, a wonderful addition to the team. He was around your age, an American with sandy blond hair. Handsome in a basic way, something you noted and never thought of again. Terrance ran a background check on him, something you gladly consented to, and insisted on helping you interview him. It took a week of recon, but he was officially your new assistant as of two weeks ago. An amazing help around the store, handy with tools. You’d told Phil that you were the daughter of a lord, a minor lie to explain the bodyguard. He shrugged it off, the ex-pat seemingly used to the oddities of London.

Now that the space had been cleared, it was finally time to paint. Terrance insisted that he couldn’t help too much, his main duty too important, but with the help of Phil, you convinced him to paint the walls with you. You all left your phones in the half-fixed office, donning plastic sheets to protect from paint splatter. Your business plan, formed from your downtime during the day and shaped by your late-night conversations with John, was to have a store section and a community section. The community section would be at the front, with a beautiful light blue accent wall, perfect for book influencers. It would be surrounded by comfy couches and warm lighting, complete with a cafe space you intended to build out. Your idea reminded you of the library waiting hours away, with its own fireplace and furniture. You decided to recreate that cozy feeling and bring it to the public.

Farther into the building there would be bigger shelves for rows and rows of books, organized by type. The color scheme was influenced by the one in your home, as you decided to hand paint metal shelves light blues, greens, and yellows. Most would be bought, but you were planning a book drive far out for people to donate old books and get discounts on new ones. It’s an idea you had wanted to do in Manchester but never got around to.

Now that the front of the store was cleared out and bare, it was time to paint. The hours fly by as you paint the light blue wall while Phil and Terrance work on a cream wall on the other side. When you blink, the sun is already down, and your watch is flashing 10PM at you.

“Guys it’s almost ten! I think we ought to lay down the brushes for tonight.” Phil opened his mouth to respond but is cut off by a harsh pounding at the locked front door. It was supposed to be clear, but there was newspaper on all of your windows to prevent the glass from getting paint on it. Frowning, you moved to open the door, but Terrance stopped you with his arm out, his other hand reaching for his gun. “Go into the office, ma’am.” You followed his command reluctantly, Phil following on your heels as you went into the back office. It didn’t have any windows, so it was a space you did not want to be in for a while. Phil looked nervous, running his hand through his hair and tapping his foot on the ground.

“I’m sure it’s fine, Phil. Probably one of the neighbors complaining about our music.” You insisted on a jam session as you painted, blasting music from a speaker you stole from the Castle. “Shady things happen in London no matter what time, boss.” You shrug, picking up your phone to quell your nerves. A glance at your notifications explains everything.

Oh no.

You burst from the office, phone already returning one of your many missed calls. That’s when you ran into your husband, face hitting his hard chest with a harsh oof. “Christ, sweetheart, gave me a near heart attack.” John steadied your shoulders with his large hands, anchoring you in his grip. His brow was furrowed, eyes crinkling in worry as he scanned you up and down like he was looking for injuries. “You didn’t answer-” “Everything good out here?” Fuck. Phil.

“Who are you?” It was a tone you’d never heard come out of John’s mouth. You imagined it was his mafia man voice, gruff and short like he had a better place to be. John shoves you behind him, reaching for his gun. You rolled your eyes, hand covering his to stop a potential shoot-out.

“John, he’s my-” “Assistant, sir. Good to put a name to the face, I’ve heard a lot about you.” You could practically hear Phil winking, laying on the Southern charm. You wrestled out of John’s grip, stepping out from behind his back. Phil’s hand was out for a handshake, but John hadn’t taken it, scanning the man up and down with suspicious eyes. “Funny, ‘cause I’ve never heard about you.” John tore his gaze away to catch yours, eyes slanted in anger. “I don’t have to tell you everything, John. I’ve got my own life, you know.” He looked almost hurt at your words, which couldn’t be true. Sure, you were fucking, but it’s not like this was a normal marriage. You knew he wouldn’t have wanted Phil working with you, just on the basis of him being a man. You didn’t want to be micromanaged by your own husband, so you simply hadn’t got around to telling him.

“C’mere.” John tugged you towards the office, his grip hard. You could hear Terrance telling Phil to go home and wait for an update. Probably for the best. You imagined Terrance following him out, then debriefing with John’s driver about how much of an asshole their boss was.

“Why didn’t ya tell me?” John asked, arms crossed and face red. He’d shut the office door but remained standing since there wasn’t any furniture yet. “Because I knew you’d get like this.” You spit out, crossing your arms to mirror his. “Fuckin’ concerned fer the security of my wife? Tha’s a bad reaction?” You took a step back from him, crossing your arms tighter so you could pinch your waist, a reminder to stay strong.

“Controlling and caveman. This is my place of work, John, and you’ve embarrassed me in front of my coworker.” He doesn’t meet your eye, staring at the door so hard it might burst into flames. He looks like a predator ready to pounce, muscles trembling from restraint. “Ya don’t realize how many enemies I have. Every person needs t’ be checked.” Did he think you were stupid? “I had Terrance check him out. I know you don’t want me around your work, but I’m not an idiot, John.”

His rejection of your offer to travel with him weeks ago had stung more than you cared to admit. He clearly didn’t trust you, only seeing you as someone to fuck around with. You didn’t realize how far that lack of trust went.

“He should’ve reported it to Gaz.” John mutters. “He did. I know that for a fact.” John ran a hand through his hair, then dipped down to tug at his tie. “He didn’t fuckin’ tell me. Christ, he’s worse than I thought.” You wanted to ask what that meant, but you bit your lip instead. He obviously didn’t want to tell you.

“Look, I know I’m a bastard and you had that goddamn clause in the contract, but you can trust me. I’m not running around behind your back.” That got John’s gaze to snap back to you, eyebrows raised in disbelief. “Tha’s wha’ ya think this is about?” You nod, suddenly unsure. “Sweetheart, that was Gaz’s idea. T’ see if you’d argue. I intended for you to ask fer another cheatin’ clause fer me, but ya didn’t so I let it go. ‘S nothin’ like tha’. Plus, I didn’t know ya then. I know ya now.” Oh.

“So you trust me?” What about the trip? You wanted to ask, but you figure that would show your hand too much. John nods slowly, uncrossing his hands to put them on his hips. “Don’t care tha’ yer a bastard. ‘M not fuckin’ anyone else, either. I’m just concerned fer yer safety.” He takes a few steps towards you, gauging your reaction to see if you step back. You don’t, uncrossing your arms and praying they don’t shake. He grabs your hands in his own, blue eyes swimming with openness. There are so many things you want to ask him about: your childhood, his father, the future. They all fall to the wayside when he leans down to kiss you, a gentle brush of his lips against yours. “If I didn’t trust ya, ya wouldn’t sleep in my bed.” He kisses your forehead, then cheek, before pulling back. “I need ya t’ believe me.” He demands it seriously. A sudden rush of affection hits your heart. He looks so truthful, so concerned, and you want to show him that same care back.

You lower to your knees. John steps back, unsure. “Sweetheart, ya don’t have to.” You shake your head, beckoning him to come near. “I want to.”

John tugs off the blazer he’s wearing, folding it into a light pillow. He squats down on his haunches, eyes on yours. A warm hand brushes your knees, urging you up so he can slip the blazer under them. He then stands; blue eyes dark as he brushes your cheek with his thumb. “Go’on, baby. Take whatever you want.”

You reach for his black belt, unfastening it with trembling hands. It unclips with ease, and John’s hands, hairy and veiny and strong, cloud your vision as he unfurls it from his belt loops. You continue downwards, undoing the midnight black of his button. You unzip slowly, licking your lips in anticipation. His fingers brush back the creases on your forehead, trailing down to brush the shell of your ear. “Feel ok?” You nod at his question, cupping him through his boxers. John releases a sharp exhale, a heady sense of power coming over you. You work the pants down fully to give you room, petting him this way and that.

Finally, you peel down the dark fabric of his boxers. He’s hairy but well-maintained, similar to his fuzzy torso you’ve felt in bed. His cock is thick and heavy, wet with precum as it slaps against his upper thigh. You tuck his boxers down to give you room, then start exploring. Kitten licks to the base of him, his hair tickling your nose. Your hand joins you to squeeze his balls, eliciting a sharp groan. John tugs on your hair, more out of instinct than control. “You feel ok?” You throw his words back at him, a cheshire smile growing as he moans again.

“Christ, those fuckin’ hands.” He responds. You move to start stroking, licking him from base to tip. He tastes like salt and musk, but clean with the scent of pine. It’s the most addicting scent on earth. After he’s wet and leaking, you steady yourself with a hand on his upper thigh and the other on your husband’s cock.

You finally take him in your mouth, tongue swirling around his tip. You hum and his grip on your hair tightens. “‘M gonna fuck yer mouth sometime.” You let go of him with a pop, leaning backwards. “Not tonight?” He shakes his head, reaching down to pump his cock in your absence. “I’m a few strokes from cummin’, sweetheart. You look too goddamn good on yer knees.” That earns a grin from you and a renewed sense of vigor.

You suck him hard this time, your hand making up the length you can’t cover. You work yourself into an easy rhythm, up and down as he cradles your face. It’s much softer than you’ve ever experienced from a man, careful and protective. He wasn’t kidding about how close he is, harsh pants emitting faster and faster from his chest. “Where d’ya want me, baby?” You don’t respond, keeping him in your mouth. All you do is blink sweetly, willing your eyes to look bigger than usual. “Fuckin’ perfect, my wife.” That sends a jolt to your heart, and you have to stop yourself from accidentally biting down. Instead of responding, you stroke faster and faster. His abs tense, and you pull back just slightly, letting him coat your tongue and lips. It’s salty but not bitter, a marker of how fucking healthy he is. You lick your lips, swallowing thickly. His thumb brushes off a bit from your nose, pushing his thumb into your mouth. You suck hard, like you did the night he first fingered you. He continues cleaning you up, careful and quiet in his movements. John tucks himself back into his pants and offers you a hand to help you off the floor.

“Your knees sore?” He whispers. You shake your head, suddenly feeling exposed despite not having taken your clothes off. “C’mere.” He tugs you into his arms, tucking you under his chin. “We good?” He asks. You want to say no, want to ask him all the questions swirling around in your head, but all you do is nod and hold him closer.

In the car, John’s hand on your thigh, your phone vibrates. It’s Phil.

Everything ok?

Yep! Marital problems, all good.

Your husband is intense.

He’s a sweetheart for me, all that matters 🙂

Good to know. See you tomorrow.

His tone is odd, but you shove that thought from your mind. John squeezes your hand, and you tuck your phone away, content to focus on your husband. Phil is the farthest thought from your mind.

um. smut. now they're like friends with problems? idk enemies got boring.

@heretoreadanddrinktea

@peachyxrosie

@joufrance

@galactict3a

@exactlyyoungchaos

@trulovekay

@alleycc

@abox-of-rocks

@orangehibiscus

@mismatchsposts

@nova-willow-541

@throwing-up-butterflies

@grossitsluca

@evans-dejong

@popcornlauncher

@earthcole

@backfromthedeadhehehe

@baduzzxy

@thegreyjoyed

@cutelibrariangf

@dearghostling

@mrsmalfoy1005

@all-by-myself98

@snburntandsad

@baklovers

@rmikaelson01

@leon-thot-kennedy

@the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned

@barcelonaaababe

@brokenandemptyhearts

@sleep101

@ontopofthefridge

@lilynotdilly

@teenagellamaangel

@harperdoodle

@ii-angelsrolltheireyes-ii

@violetisheresworld

@lolwey

@polyfandom-blogs

@burrowedinnature77

@sharkerino

@ashy-kit

@aikojwhpa

@thriving-n-jiving

@krispymagazinepizza-blog

@grayskel

@rpgsandstuff

@hisuccubus

@lumi-kalyke

@gimmeabreak1

687 notes · View notes

woso-dreamzzz · 2 months ago

Text

If You Were My Little Girl II

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader

Summary: Things are looking up

Alexia watches from the stands.

They're mostly empty, like almost all Barcelona B matches.

Women's football has only really started picking up steam recently but only at the top flight. The lower level leagues are still having a bit of a popularity issue.

But Alexia, for once, finds that she doesn't mind.

Because it means she can sit practically alone in the stands as she watches the home match.

A notepad sits on her lap, a pen tapping against the pages thoughtfully as she watches.

Barcelona B are good and Alexia has never expected anything different. She's seen the system at work many times as La Masia churns out players like Aitana and Pina and Jana, and more recently Vicky and Martina.

There's a reason so many clubs wants La Masia products.

They're all good players but even now, Alexia can tell a great player when she sees one.

You rise up among the crowd in the box and slam the ball into the goal, the net rippling with the force of the shot.

The best part, Alexia thinks, is that you didn't even need a moment to control the ball, hitting it in on the volley and grinning as your teammates practically dogpile you.

A hattrick in ten minutes is impressive in any league and Alexia makes another note in her notebook, humming softly to herself.

She rises out of her seat at the end of the match, disappearing into the building and out the doors.

It takes another half an hour for you to appear again, hair damp and an old crew neck sweater that Alexia's pretty sure is Alba's being tugged over your head.

You slip into the passenger seat, throwing your bag into the backseat and Alexia pulls your head down to press a kiss against the side of it.

You smile shyly at her as she offers up the fries she'd bought for a job well done.

"You did good, kid," She says," Very impressive."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. But I think we're going to work on evading slide tackles next," Alexia says as she drives off," We're trying to keep those ankles of yours intact, alright? I'm going to need them this season."

You roll your eyes and Alexia clicks her tongue.

"Don't roll your eyes at me," She says," I've got a good feeling about that meeting later in the week. A great feeling, actually. You should have one too."

"I'm managing expectations."

Alexia looks at you fondly. "Well, we'll see which one of us is right in a few days."

She lets you choose the music in the car, like she always does when you've scored a goal and you pull up to the apartment a lot quicker than you want to seeing as you're in the middle of singing along to your favourite song but, still, you drag yourself out of the car and up the stairs.

"How was the match?" Olga asks as she greets Alexia with a kiss on the lips.

"She did very well," Alexia brags," A hattrick within the first ten minutes and another goal in injury time."

"Exciting," Olga says indulgently as Alexia grins, already giving her running commentary of everything that happened during the match.

You escape though, hurrying to raid the cupboards before Alexia finally comes to her senses and tries to stop you 'spoiling' your dinner.

You don't know if there's any way to thank Alexia for what she's done for you.

Just three months ago, you were convinced that you were going to quit. You had no passion for the game, no hope of what your future was going to be but now all of that had changed.

You had direction. You had a manager. You had new boots and a place to live that wasn't a group home and support and love and everything seemed to be coming together for you.

A toe pokes you in the leg.

"Move."

"Alexia says that if you're trying to nap on her sofa again then I don't have to move," You tell Alba, who huffs and pokes you with her toe again," She also says that you have your own apartment and should stop mooching of us."

"But Olga's a better cook than me," Alba complains and you roll your eyes.

"Aren't you an adult? Even I can cook."

"Yeah but it's not like you could mooch off your sist-"

Alba falls silent quickly and you pretend to not notice what she was going to say for both hers and your own sakes.

The topic of your sister is kind of off limits when you're in the room. It's not completely banned because Alexia's still Jenni's national teammate but she's not really spoken about if you're in the room.

Alba's face flashes with terror for a moment so you pretend you don't notice her slip up ever though it sends a bolt of lightning into your stomach, a deep pit forming there.

It works for the most part, everyone in the house pretending Jenni isn't who she is to you, pretending that she's just Alexia's teammate and not her friend and ex, pretending that Alexia fostering you isn't her walking on a tight rope because Jenni doesn't know.

All Jenni knows is that you didn't quit when she told you to.

Jenni doesn't know that you live with Alexia. Jenni doesn't know anything. You doubt she even thinks about you when she's got a life far away in Mexico.

She lives there, far away from you and your life here in Barcelona.

She lives there and her presence is hardly ever mentioned around you.

Life is good at Alexia and Olga's house. Life is even good at training, though you could do without the smug little smirk Alexia has on her face when she picks you up.

"You already knew!" You accuse her, waving a finger in her face.

"Knew?" She asks, lips curl up in what can only be described as pure smugness," Knew what?"

"Right, who told you? Go on. Who was it?"

Alexia grins. "You do realise I am the captain? Any time they're looking to bring someone in, they ask me my opinion."

You roll your eyes. "Yeah and I'm sure you gave it."

"You're a good player. A great player," Alexia says," All I did was tell them what they already know."

You look down at your lap, fidgeting with your fingers. You want to be mad at her, to yell at her for keeping this from you. Maybe even yell at her for promising to the staff something you're not but you know she hasn't done that.

If she thought you weren't ready, she would have told them that.

But Alexia didn't. She didn't tell them to let you have a bit more time with the B team. She didn't tell them that you don't quite have what it takes.

"Thanks."

Alexia smiles at you as she drives home, a comfortable silence enveloping you both until your hand is on the door handle.

You stop.

"When I open this door, there's going to be a party, isn't there?"

"I may have told Olga...who told Mami...who told Alba...who told the rest of the family..."

"Is that a yes?"

"Possibly..."

"And there's no getting out of this?"

Alexia ruffles your hair, a soft kiss being pressed to the side of your head. "They're here to celebrate you."

You suck in a breath, just ready to turn the handle when the sound of the lift doors opening chimes down the corridor.

Both you and Alexia turn your heads towards.

It's just a fleeting second.

Just a moment.

But your good mood plummets as the door opens.

Alexia's hand tightens on your shoulder, pushing you slightly behind her and putting herself between you and the elevator.

Between you and Jenni.

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

810 notes · View notes

gelus-ugs · 2 years ago

Note

Can you do all hashiras when they accidently touch reader's breast?

The Hashira when they accidentally touch your breast

———————————————————————

This was definitely a fun one to write! Thanks for the request ☺️🙏🏾

———————————————————————

Gyomei Himejima

Since he can’t see, Gyomei has no idea what he touched

He assumed it was your shoulder or something, but the more he thought about it, the more it didn’t seem to add up

Shoulders aren’t soft and squishy…right?

As he’s thinking, he doesn’t realize that his hand is still there

“Um, Gyomei..do you mind getting your hand off my chest?”

“Oh, of course. Sorry, [Y/n]”

Wait..did you say chest?

Gyomei froze and his face quickly turned red

He quickly bows in your direction

“I’m so sorry for touching you in such a private area”

“It’s okay, Gyomei. It’s not like you meant to”

He still feels terrible about it 😭

Sanemi Shinazugawa

You two were sparring when you moved to the side to dodge a punch to your chest

But you didn’t move in time and he ended up bumping his hand into your breast

He retracts his hand so fast

He mutters a ‘sorry’ before just…walking away 💀

He doesn’t look at you to hide his face, which is beet red

He avoids eye contact with you for a while because he feels really bad and embarrassed

Obanai Iguro

He meant to grab Kaburamaru from around your neck, but the snake moved at the last minute and it resulted in Obanai touching your chest

He freezes for a split second before quickly snatching Kaburamaru and walking away

He felt embarrassed and really bad since he violated you

He sends you some sort of gift with a note apologizing

He’s too embarrassed to talk to you for a while

Mitsuri Kanroji

She was helping you into your new slayer uniform, buttoning your top while making small talk with you

You had decided to change your uniform due to it being uncomfortable and difficult for you to fight in

Mid-sentence, Mitsuri’s hand accidentally slipped from the button and knocked into your chest

She immediately retracted her hands and began to bow over and over again while profusely apologizing

You found the situation pretty funny and assured her it was okay between laughs

She felt really guilty, but was glad that you weren’t offended or mad at her

You both just laughed it off and agreed to let you do the rest of the buttoning

Kyōjurō Rengoku

You were listening to Rengoku tell a story as you took a walk together

I feel like he’s the type of person to use his hands when he talks

So he was just talking with his hands when he accidentally swung his hand into your chest

He immediately stops talking and gets on all fours to bow and apologize

You reassure him that it’s okay and that it was just an accident, but he keeps going on about how he violated and disrespected you

You will literally have to peel him off the ground and continuously assure him that you didn’t mind since it was just an accident

You two eventually just laugh it off before Rengoku continues his story - this time without using his hands

Muichiro Tokito

He was trying to point to something beside him, but he didn’t realize how close you were and accidentally knocked his hand into your chest

It takes him ten business days to react 💀

He just pauses and stares at his hand before letting it just fall to his side

He doesn’t even say anything

He just walks away as if nothing happened

He’ll remember a week later and find you just to apologize - not even specifying for what

Shinobu Kocho

She was treating a wound on your abdomen and accidentally bumped her hand into your chest

She apologized, but continued to tend to your wound nonetheless

You were probably in too much pain to notice/care 😂🤷🏾‍♂️

Tengen Uzui

You two were at some sort of festival when Tengen saw a necklace and picked it up

“[Y/n], I think this would go well with-”

Necklace in hand, he began to turn to face you as he spoke

He didn’t realize that you were literally right beside him, so he ended up knocking his hands into your chest

“Oh, I didn’t realize how close you were to me, I’m sorry. That wasn’t very flashy, I hope the girls are okay”

He attempts to joke about it to make the situation less awkward

You both just laugh it off and continue having fun at the festival

Giyu Tomioka

Him and Shinobu were in some petty fist fight

You stepped in between them to break up the fight, catching Giyu mid-punch

You moved back to dodge the punch, but Giyu managed to brush his hand against your chest

He quickly retracted his hand, looking at it as if it were some sort of foreign object

“Well, that wasn’t very nice, Tomioka”

Shinobu commented, attempting to tick him off

“Sorry, [Y/n]”

He apologized before walking off, still weirdly looking at his hand 💀

#x reader #demon slayer #demon slayer headcanons #demon slayer x reader #gyomei headcanons #gyomei himejima #sanemi shinaguzawa #obanai iguro #mitsuri kanjori #rengoku kyojuro #muichiro tokito #shinobu kocho #tengen uzui #giyu tomioka

7K notes · View notes

authorbriannarae13 · 1 month ago

Text

Mind of Mine // i just want to watch you take it off - joel miller

Joel Miller x female! reader

read on AO3 here.

summary; "You got 'nother one, sugar?"

Joel knows exactly how to get you wetter than ever. or this is the work you get when the author listens to the song 'TiO' off of the album 'Mind Of Mine' on repeat. for five hours.

warnings; smut (MDNI); unprotected p in v; oral (f receiving); mostly soft!joel; actually all soft!joel, so much praise

word count; 1.3k (it's my first joel fic, ok?)

You’re swaying to the music while Joel’s behind you, cooking as always.

He usually ignores you – not because you’re necessarily a distraction – but instead, because giving you the attention you crave doesn’t end well. For either of you. Last time he gave you attention, your wrists were secured to the headboard as he fucked your brains out, giving you too many orgasms to count and forgetting about the food.

Oops.

You live to be a tease, though.

It excites you too much to stop.

Mainly because it lets him plan how he’s going to punish you. Or praise you.

Whichever he’s in the mood for.

Based on his current mood – which is subject to change – he’s most definitely going to praise you.

And after the day you’ve had, it’s definitely what you need. Working for a publishing house can be stressful. And today was one of those days.

Good thing Joel loves to make you feel light – weightless, actually.

Not to mention how safe you feel. And when you feel safe, the softer side comes out.

Like all relationships, you just need to feel safe to show it.

“Darlin’,” his rough, Southern drawl interrupts your music, and you turn it off.

“Yes?” you ask, teasingly. Trying to rile him up.

But you never succeed. He knows you too well for that.

Turning away and holding a hand out, he murmurs a simple, “C’mere.”

So, you take it, letting him drag you and lift you up – right into his arms. Bridal style, of course.

You groan as your thighs clench, trying to hide your soaked cunt.

“Poor baby,” he murmurs, kissing your forehead.

“Fuck off,” you mutter while he carries you to the bedroom. Since he insists, he needs his fill of you before he can think about anything else – or dessert, as he likes to call it.

He kicks the door open and lays you down, playing with the hem of your skirt.

Your hips buck into his touch. He’s teasing you – you realize.

“Joel,” you moan as he hooks his fingers into your waistband, pulling your skirt down, and revealing the soaked black lace covering your cunt.

He pulls the lace aside, running his fingers against your swollen pussy, and he groans deep in his throat. “You’re fuckin’ soaked, pretty girl.”

Your brain goes blank as his index and middle finger both sink inside you, curling towards your g-spot.

“Fuck, sir.”

“N’ne of that sir shit tonight, baby.” He grabs your ankles, placing them on his shoulders as he sinks to his knees and licks a stripe up to your swollen - and aching - clit.

Your head falls back as your eyes roll into the back out your head. “Fuckk.”

You’re so close. If he would just curl his fingers against your g-spot just one more time, you’d be there.

He lets out a gruff chuckle that reverberates though your body as his other hand finds you shirt, pushing it up to find your nipple, pinching it.

That sends you over the edge. “Fuck, Joel,” you moan as the orgasm hits, crashing you into waves with each one more intense than the one before it.

His tongue doesn’t stop lapping at your clit even as you try to buck him off. “I can’t. I can’t- “

He cuts you off before you can repeat it again, “You can and will give me ‘nother one, sweetheart.”

“Fuck,” you groan as he pulls his fingers out, thrusting them back in while your back arches.

In. Out. In. Out. Your fingers curl into the sheets.

His fingers thrust faster as your thighs start to wrap around his head, trying to keep him there.

The second orgasm is faster than the first. You let out a silent scream as the waves rush into you for the second time in less than ten minutes.

“Good – fuck – good fuckin’ girl,” he groans, his tongue still swirling around your clit as the waves subside.

The strength from earlier leaves you almost immediately, making your legs fall. You’re boneless, but you also know he fucks you regardless of just how boneless you feel.

“You got ‘nother one for me, sugar?”

He slowly pulls his fingers out of you and brings them up to your mouth, “Taste yourself.”

You happily oblige, opening your mouth to take his fingers and tasting your cum mixed with his skin in a fucked up symphony.

His groan reverberates off the walls as you suck on his fingers – the same way you always have his cock. That’s when he starts to pull your panties down your legs, giving him better access.

Since that’s what this is all about, of course. And better access usually means better orgasms.

Speak of the devil – that shit must hurt. He looks painfully hard.

He interrupts your staring. “You like what you see?”

You slowly start to nod, but he slowly pulls his hand away, fingers leaving with a pop.

He leans down towards you, as you lean up and play with the hem of his shirt before you decide to pull it off.

Next is his belt as you hurry and rip it off, trying to get to his jeans.

“Woah,” he lets out a low chuckle, “’u’re a feisty one tonight, aren’t ya, beautiful?”

“No,” you whine as he starts to stop your frantic hands. “Just need you,”

“Where ya need me?”

“You know where,” you sass with everything you can muster.

“Need to hear ya say it, baby.”

“Fuck,” you moan as his jeans lightly graze your cunt. “Need you in me – fuck – now.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” he mutters, pulling his jeans and boxers down – as fast as he can. “’U’re g’nna be the death of me, pretty girl.”

“I – fuck –“ His thrust cuts you off as he bottoms out. “I live to please.”

“So I can tell,” is the hiss you get back while he waits for you to adjust.

“Move already,” you whine before you can stop yourself. “Break me for all I – fuck –care.”

He slowly finds the pace you’re accustomed to – hard and fast.

“Look at ‘cha. You’re takin’ me so well.”

Your cunt clenches around him as he continues. “Aw, does my good girl need to be reminded of how good she feels?”

“You-“ you start, “you keep doing that and I’ll finish faster than I ever have.”

“Good girl,” he purrs. “Is that a promise?”

“B-better be,” you stutter as his thumb finds your clit. Again.

“Fuck.” Your head falls back again. Everything is sensitive.

You’re not even expecting the orgasm when it washes over you.

“Good – fuck. You’re such a good girl f’r me, sugar,” he praises, not taking his thumb away.

“Fuck.” It’s somewhere between a moan and groan. “Fuck, everything’s so sensitive.” Now that’s definitely a groan.

He ignores you, continuing his praise. “Fuck. Good girl. God, Good fuckin’ girl.”

You softly whine as he slowly speeds his pace up, trying to find his own orgasm.

After more futile moans, whimpers, and whatever else he can pull out of you.

“Fuck, you’re g’nna make me cum so fuckin’ fast, pretty girl. Goddamn-“ And that’s when you feel his orgasm crash into him – violent and unforgiving.

The orgasm lasts so long that neither one of you can keep up with how much time has passed. It isn’t until he flips you two over, so you’re on top and he’s not crushing you, that you know it’s done.

“Fuck,” you softly laugh, pressing your ear to his chest and listening to his heartbeat as he holds you tightly. You kiss his chest while he hums.

“Poor baby,” he murmurs kissing your forehead, “u’re all fucked out, aren’t ya?”

“Maybe,” you tease while he gives you a look.

“Don’t lie to me, sweetheart.”

Eventually, after Joel made sure you were okay in every aspect, you two make your way back into the kitchen, attempting to get your appetite back after all that.

You’re standing behind him with your head laying on his back when you murmur, “I love you forever and always, baby.”

You can hear the soft smile in his voice when he says, “I love you more than anything else, darlin’.”

#joel miller smut #joel miller #ao3 fanfic #smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x f!reader #dom!joel miller #praise k!nk #reader insert #soft!joel miller #inspired by a song

580 notes · View notes

kookochan · 1 month ago

Text

End Of Time

They were dancing under the rain, knowing it wouldn't last forever. Memories were collected and hearts were stolen. Maybe it was never about the rain.

Summary: What if an exchange student changes your whole life, and you're scared of the day he needs to turn back? +18

exchange student jungkook x fem!reader

warnings/content: violence (slap), mention of blood, sexual content (loss of virginity, unprotected sex - don't be stupid!), family issues, alcohol, angst, fluffy love TT

wc: 17,3k

˚₊✩‧₊2024˚₊✩‧₊

"We are really happy to have you guys here. The atmosphere in the team is also awesome!"

The interviewer has a soft smile while saying so. They have been sitting here for only ten minutes, and more than half of the time is already over. Her eyes turn to the more introverted person in the room.

"Jungkook, you are one of the best players this season. We talked about your career a lot, but you're the only one who isn't sharing his personal life. Like a relationship, for example. Or your first love!"

"Firstly, thank you for the compliment. And yeah, first love and all that-" he says with a polite smile. His mind is going back to a time when he met you for the first time. "I like to keep things in my own little world. That's why I'm not sharing a lot about it."

Jungkook is praying that the interviewer wouldn't ask any further questions. Today he is lucky, and the topic changes; all the attention goes to someone else. He is safe, and for a moment he is thinking back to the old times.

˚₊✩‧₊2014˚₊✩‧₊

It was a Monday, and you hate the first day of the week. Today should be a little better than the other days because some of the new exchange students were coming. The teacher gave you the job to assist them on the first day. Her reasoning: You were the class representative. You don't know how you managed to be one, but you liked your job.

"Yn"

You turn around to see which of your annoying friends was calling for you, only to be met with Tae. "What do you want?! It's not even 9 a.m. Let me live!" You say annoyed that he caught you that early.

"Calm down, dude. I saw some of the exchange students already. Some of the ladies said one of them is hot. We're lucky to be with them on the first day. Do you have a plan for the day?" He informs you while walking to the class. You don't know how he managed to get all this information. He is always the last one to come to school. It looks like he is excited about the whole situation. You don't want to lie; you are also curious about the newbies. They will be in your class for only 6 months, but maybe you will have a chance to make new friends. The exchange students from last year were two girls who just came to bully others, so it was no fun. But this time it sounds like some of them are also good-looking? You need to check on that.

"Hmm, it would be a lie when I say I planned something. Isn't it too strict anyway? Let's just show them the school and eat together. That should be enough for the first day," you say while thinking of other options just in case he isn't agreeing with you. You turn to Tae to see if he has anything to say, but he just nods. "And did you really come here that early to get all the information?"

"Nah, I forgot my book and needed to do the homework. So I came a little earlier today. I can already feel the missing 2 hours of sleep," he makes a crying face. You roll your eyes and laugh. "Did you see Jiho or Jia?". "Nope."

—

"It's getting awkward standing here and waiting for them," Jia says with an annoyed noise. The whole class was waiting for the home teacher to come and introduce the new students. But the whole process was taking longer than expected.

After fifteen minutes, you could hear the teacher coming while talking to the students. She didn't introduce them but started talking about important things and the school. Your eyes wander to the two boys standing next to her. And yes, you do know who the girls were calling hot. You could feel his charm, and now the whole situation is more fun for you.

—

Jungkook is happy to be with you and your friend group. At first he was scared if he could make new friends, and if not, he would be depressed for six months. You guys were hanging out during the school day and sometimes after that. He is also happy that Eun could find friends. For him, Eun is also a nice friend, but he knows that they're opposite personalities. Anyway, the first four weeks were comfortable for him, so he hopes that the rest of the time will be like that too.

It was early in the morning, and he was walking to school. Looking around, he notices that you're walking to the subway station. He runs towards you. "Good morning. Caught you!". You jump a little, holding your chest. "Why are you coming like that?!" you point a finger at him. He only laughs at your cute attitude. "Oh, come on, why are you acting like you saw a monster or something? That breaks my heart," he says dramatically. You roll your eyes. "We are getting late, so hurry up!". You can see his pout when you make faster steps.

He is fast getting into the tram, and he is holding a seat for you too. You sit between him and the window—the seat he was reserving for you. He smiles and looks around. "Are you coming today? Tae asked to hang out near the beach and grab some beer in the group chat. I didn't see your reply."

"Oh, I saw the messages in the morning, so I couldn't reply. But yes, I am in."

"Okay, that's nice to hear!" he says while smiling. No, he doesn't know why he gets so giddy when you're around. He is throwing away all the complicated thoughts. He only knows you for like four weeks. He needs to calm down.

—

The school day was kind of stressful. You got your test results, way lower than expected. You did learn weeks before, and you were confident that you could make it. Okay, it would be a lie to say you would nail it because math is not your strongest subject. Knowing nothing will ever help you understand it makes you feel down. Now you're walking with your friends and Jungkook to the convenience store to grab some snacks and drinks. It feels suffocating; you would rather go home and, you don't know, learn more?

Jungkook can see the little cloud above your head, so he walks a little faster to get to you. You are in your own little bubble, not seeing him looking at you. He taps your head to gain your attention. "We are going to chill and not to a funeral." You stick out your tongue. "I thought it was your funeral. How lame". He tries not to laugh, but it just works for two seconds. "No, seriously, what's the matter?". You shrug. "Just math. I really am too stupid to understand that shit."

"Come on, man, you act like you need to be perfect! It's okay to fail one subject, and I can also help you a little. Tae asked me too, so we could make a learning group." He suggests kindly. You think about it a little, and then you simply nod. Now his smile goes even wider; you watch him for a while.

"Oh my God, finally we're here! I thought we would never make it!" says Tae while breathing like he did six marathons. You break the short eye contact with Jungkook and turn to your friends. "You are so dramatic. And don't get thousands of snacks like last time; we need to walk a little to the beach. I will let you carry them!" You just watch him run into the store without listening. Jungkook laughs about that and follows the others. Sometimes you can't believe how they are older than you. Okay, 1 year is not a big gap, but anyway.

After a little shopping tour and two more arguments with Tae, you are walking to the beach. The sun is slowly going down, and you like the vibe. You are lucky that no one had the energy to go that far on the beach, so it is quite enjoyable. Sitting down, you open up the beer, thinking about life. Everyone else looked also deep in thought. Maybe sometimes this is the best way to sort out your mind. When the sunset is almost over, Jiho sighed. "It's getting depressing. Let's go swim." Yeah, funny you thought, never ever. Of course, all the boys jump for the idea and are running towards the water. Your eyes linger a little longer on Jungkook's body. He is giving a show for real, the way he takes off his shirt and flexes his muscles.

Jungkook is aware of your gaze. For him, it's just a confirmation that you also do find him a little attractive. No? Is he delulu? Maybe! He enjoys the time playing in the water, but the wet jeans are giving him a hard time. After a quick check with the others, they come back to the spot where you and Jia were lying. Jungkook watches your figure, and he is wondering if you were asleep. He can't stop thinking about your emotions and the fact that a school subject is bothering you that much. Are you a perfectionist? You definitely don't look like one.

You could hear the movements next to you, so you open one eye to see what was happening. "Did you have fun?" you ask with a little smile on your face. "The water was a little cold, but besides that, it was fun. Do you want to go into the water too?" he asks while wiggling his eyebrows. You laugh at him, "No, it's too cold for that." His relaxed posture turns a little worried. "Are you cold?". You make a quick 'x' with your fingers.

"The boys and I are going to play basketball tomorrow in the late afternoon; do you want to come watch? Maybe we could go grab some lunch after," he suggests. Deep inside, he wants you to come, but you were taking a long time to answer. "Sure, why not? But I need to do some school stuff beforehand, so if I don't reach my goal, I will stay home." He rolls his eyes. "You need to go easier on yourself." You hum, and then you just watch the night sky. After a little hesitation, Jungkook lies next to you and watches the stars. It was comfortable.

You guys are sitting there for one more hour, and then you call it a night. Tae is the one who couldn't understand his limits with the alcohol, but it's nothing new. Jiho takes him home, and you bid goodbye to your friend Jia, who is living on the way to your house. Now you are alone, walking with Jungkook. There is a comfortable silence between you two. He is staying alone in a small apartment, but you know that there was a shorter route for him to go home. Anyway, it feels safer to have someone next to you, so you don't even ask him about it. When you reach your house, you turn fully to Jungkook. "Thank you for walking with me," you say. Jungkook acts surprised, "Naah, it's nothing. It's on my way home, so no big deal." You smile at that and wave him goodbye. He watches as you were walking the stairs. When he hears you entering the code and the closing door, he starts walking away.

The house is quiet. It looked like everyone was sleeping. And you are happy to finally get out of your shoes. Just in the moment where you open the shoe rack, you see your dad's shoes. You sigh. Yup, this will be a suffocating weekend; it is the only thing that you could think of. Walking to your room, you just pray that no one from your family, especially your dad, would bother you.

–

You are learning for like 5 hours, and you can feel the headache coming. Standing up, you walk to your bed and kneel down. A little box underneath is smiling at you, and you grab it. Going back to your desk, you open it to see all the sketches and drawings that you made. To free your mind, you used to paint something, and every time you're drawing, it feels like a dream. You wish you could become a famous artist who has done a lot of art. But deep down, you know the opinion of your parents. They were strict about your future. For them, you needed to become a doctor or a lawyer. Everything under that must be powerful as well, or you failed your whole life. Last time you had a conversation about going to an art school, you ended up with house arrest. That's also the reason why you need to hide everything related to that. With the knowledge that nobody is home, you start sketching.

You flinch with the phone ringing. The first reaction is hiding everything on your desk. You put everything in your box. After closing it, you put it back under your bed. The person who calls you cut the line. Getting your phone, you see that Jungkook was calling you. There is no way to explain the relief that you were feeling. Dropping on your knees, you almost cried. Why would you feel that way? How unfair it is that you have parents who are not supportive of you. The next thing you hear is something on your window. Turning your head, you scream in fear. Only to see Jungkook screaming too. You throw your phone on the bed and walk to the window, opening it. "What are you doing?!" you say while pulling him inside by his sleeve.

"Oh, hi pretty," he says with a grin. He can't be serious, right? You roll your eyes. "You scared me. Also, I have a door." He scoffs at you, "But it's not that dramatic! I'm here to go to the basketball game with you. You can't say no; I climbed up the window!". You look at him unimpressed. "I would also come with you when you just knocked on my door." He has a stupid smile on his face while saying, "So you would go everywhere with me without a doubt?"

You ignore his cheesy question and walk to your wardrobe. Opening it, you are thinking of what to wear. A black hoodie and some black jeans are a safe option. Jungkook is busy looking around your room. It was his first time being here. You had a minimalistic room with the colors of white, beige, and blue. Walking to the wall next to your desk, he looked at the pictures with your friends. "We never took a picture together. Let's do it today," he says. There was an old picture of you, and he takes a quick picture of it. 'Cute,' he thinks. Turning towards you, he sees that you are getting changed. He looks away; he didn't want to be a creep.

After changing, you both walk out of the house. The basketball court was not that far, so you agreed on walking. "Do you think I will win?" he asks. "I never saw you play, so it's hard to say. Tae is actually really good," you say. Jungkook laughs at you, "He lost all the games when we were playing. I'm just telling you so that you don't lose your bet." You think about it for a while: "Okay, I will trust you, but if I lose my money today, you owe me!". He just smiles. Is it normal for him to feel shy all of a sudden? He needs to win; there is no other option.

The match was almost over. Jungkook played with Jiho, and Tae asked a random dude to play with him, so it's fair. Unfortunately, it didn't change the results; they lost. Jia was the one taking a bet for him, so she cursed the shit out of him. While you run to Jungkook to celebrate his win. You both are holding each other's hands and spinning in circles. Yeah, you know you looked like two kids, but it was fun. "Omg, let's stop. I think I need to throw up," you scream at him. He stops immediately and laughs at you trying to balance. "I told you I would win!" he says. You smile at him. Wow, what is this feeling inside you?

All of you are sitting on the grass next to the court. The boys sipping water and Jia handing you the money she lost. You wave it a little in the air. The guy playing with Tae, Damien, stands up. "It was nice to meet you, but I need to go home. Maybe we could play someday again," he says while looking at everyone. "Yeah, sure, it was fun! Thank you for joining us," Tae says. Damien smiles at that and turns to you, "I would like to grab a coffee with you." You look up at him in confusion. He didn't expect an answer from you, so he gives you a piece of paper with his phone number on it. You take it with a little thank you. He walks away afterwards. Turning to your friends, you see Jungkook's eyes boring into your sides. The whole situation is forgotten as Jiho stands up and says, "Let's go eat. I will die".

Walking to the next ramen place, you notice how quiet Jungkook is. You poke his side. "What's wrong? You won a game, bro." Jungkook pouts at you and asks, "Why did you accept his number?". "I accept it from every guy because I'm too scared of their reaction when I don't accept it. Maybe they would curse me out or follow me home? So creepy," you say with a sincere tone. He looks into your eyes. "I'm sorry that you feel that way. So are you interested in meeting him?". He is playing with his lip piercing; why is he getting so nervous? "Nope, he was not my type," you say with a grin. "But why are you asking and sulking about it anyway? Wait, are you jealous?" you ask while laughing. Yup, he feels a burn on his face. You pinch his cheeks, "So cute." Jungkook wants to fall on his knees and cry. But he acts annoyed, saying, "Fuck off," and wishing you would never do that.

–

2 months later...

Your head is on the table. Jungkook, Tae, and you were learning at the cafe for over 6 hours. You understand more than before, but your head was seconds away from exploding. Tae is in better condition. "I told you to drink more soju. Look at me; I feel like a newborn," he says. You whine at that, "Shut up, please." Jungkook comes back to the table with a tray in his hand. He ordered some ramen and vegetables. Sitting next to you, he strokes your hair. "Come on, eat your food, and you will feel better," he says softly. You sit up looking at the food; you don't feel like eating. Until something is next to your mouth, you turn to Jungkook, who is holding broccoli in his chopsticks for you to eat. You pout and eat it. "Hmm, yummy, right?" he says in awe. You really liked it, so you nod while starting to eat. Turning to him, you see him eat with the same chopsticks that you ate from. That makes you smile. And of course he caught that.

Jungkook is happy that you finished your bowl. Now they are waiting for you to come back from the bathroom. He carefully packs some of your belongings into your bag. Tae is watching him the whole time. "I am worried about you," he says. Jungkook looks at him confused. "You know what I mean. Your feelings with Yn," says Tae while looking into his eyes. If there was a chance for Jungkook to flee, he would. But Tae didn't expect an answer or explanation. "I don't want you to get hurt. If you need to talk about it, I will listen," he simply says. Jungkook is shocked but also thankful that he gave him the option to open up or not. He returns Tae's smile.

"Why are you flirting?" you say, looking at both of them. Tae acts like putting a strand of hair behind his ear. "Oh my God, we will go on a date tomorrow!". You laugh, but the fact that Jungkook is too stunned to speak made it even funnier. Jungkook shakes his head and gives you your bag. "Come on, let's go." "Wait, why are you blushing?" you ask. That is the last straw for you and Tae to laugh like fools. Jungkook makes a quick 'tsk' before leaving. You are in tears.

Tae is the first one to get off the tram, bidding both of you a good night. You wave at him. Some minutes later, it is yours and Jungkook's turn to get off. While walking home, you intentionally bump into Jungkook's side. "Are you mad at my comment?" you ask. Jungkook chuckled at that. "No, all good. I know you were jealous," he says. "Woah, you're really delulu," you say dramatically. "Thank you for today, by the way. I did understand a lot. You're really good at explaining!" you add. He smiles and pokes your cheek. "No need to thank me. We can do it more often, but not that intensely. I thought you would die." You stick out your tongue.

"Omg, Jungkook! Look," you say, kneeling down. You start petting the black cat. It is fluffy and super soft. Jungkook takes a picture of you where you are petting the cat. "I want two cats when I move out!" you say, excited. He wants to cuddle with you and the cat. "So you're a cat person. How cute," he says, smiling. "Thank God this one has a home. Look, it has a collar," you say while turning to him. "Maybe it is on his way home," he thinks out loud. You stand up and watch the cat go. "It was so cute, I want to cry," you say, head hanging. He wants to remember this moment forever. Your interaction with the cat, your pout, and your small voice. If he were to die right now, he would be happy.

Walking up the stairs, you see Jungkook standing at the same spot. "Why aren't you going home?" you ask, looking down. "I will wait until you're inside," he says, shrugging. You wave at him for the last time before your door closes behind you. Jungkook walks in the direction of his house but changes his mind. Turning around, he is walking to the next supermarket.

It is suspiciously quiet in your house. After hanging your jacket and putting on your slippers, you walk towards your room. The TV is turned on, but nobody is sitting in front of it. You feel your heart beating faster when you see your open door. Trying to think positively about it, you walk in. Your room looks like a mess. Everything is shattered, and your mother is in a panic. "What is going on here?" you ask quietly. Only when your father turns around do you see your drawings in his hands. Your bag choosing his own fate by rolling down your arm. There are no words to say. Looking into his eyes, you can see the anger.

"What's all of this?" he asks while shouting. "I told you that I'm interested in art. I just sketch or paint when I need to relax," you try to reason. It will not help; they will never understand you. You don't know which part of your answer made him explode, but in seconds he starts ripping all of the papers. "How stupid of me to think that you grew up! Doing this shit instead of studying! Where are the other things? Tell me!" he screams and walks around the room. Your knees give up, and sitting on the floor, you start crying. Taking some pieces of your art while he is destroying everything in your room. Your eyes wander to the open door, your sister standing in the hall with a bowl full of cherries. She is enjoying this. "Look at your sister! She is working hard to get somewhere, and you! How can you be that stupid?" says your mother. Just as angry as your dad. You want to scream, to throw a tantrum, but everything cut off your air. How could this happen? Your dad comes up to you, forcing you to stand up. "You will tell me where all of your stuff is," he yells in your face. "I did nothing wrong," you sob. It's unfair, you want to say. But your head is like under water. Too many thoughts, but no voice. "How dare you talk back to me?" he asks. The next thing you could feel is a burn and pain in your cheek. He slapped you. You could feel the metallic taste in your mouth. For a second, everyone is shocked. But who would he be when he apologized? Instead, he grabs your arm and walks towards the door. "If you don't want to live with our rules, then you can go live elsewhere," he screams. The door shuts in front of your face.

You stand there for a while. Your mother or sister would open the door for you, right? But after minutes that felt like hours, you turn around. They will not open the door. Walking down the stairs, you feel empty. By the time it started raining, you looked down. You are wearing some slippers and have no jacket. In your hands are some pieces of paper that you called art. There is nothing in your mind; you just start walking. The rain is fast in soaking you wet. Near a park, you see a bench. No time to think about it more; you sit down. You look down at the pieces of paper and at the bloodstains caused by the rain that is rinsing your face. Empty was the definition of what you are feeling. The cold air makes it worse than it is. You pull your knees to your chest and bury your face on top of them. Crying felt more painful than before. Also, you are scared that some creep would come near, but you have no energy to move.

Jungkook hates his decision to go grab some things from the supermarket. He was at the supermarket, but not only there; he also made a stop at the bookstore. He bought two new books and was ready to gift you one. Walking back home, he curses at himself for not getting an umbrella. Near the park, he sees a girl sitting on a bench. He looks at her and wonders why she would be sitting in the rain with only a shirt and slippers. At the same time, you look up at the noise of footsteps. The last person you both expected to see was each other. Jungkook looks at your face; the first thing he notices is the cut in your lip. That was enough for him to run towards you. Kneeling down on the ground, he holds your face with both hands.

"What happened?" he asks while being consumed by angst. Your small hands hold his wrists. You couldn't answer his question; you are sobbing and shaking from the cold. He starts taking off his jacket and helps you put it on. "Do you want to go home?" he asks while stroking your hair. Jungkook never experienced something like that. He wants to kill everyone who was the reason for your situation. Also, he doesn't want to hurt you more, but he is scared. Scared of the reason you were in this situation. "I can't go home," you say, trying to wipe away your tears. "Let's go to my house," he asks. Unsure if he would scare you away. But you only nod. He turns around. "Piggyback," he says, and waits. You position yourself, and he stands up to walk to his house.

After a quick walk, he gets into the house. Letting you down carefully, he walks to his room to get you some dry clothes. When he comes back, you already start changing. You smile at his oversized black shirt and sleeping shorts. Getting the white socks, you start laughing. Jungkook turned to you while making tea. "You really wear toe socks?" you ask cutely. He smiled, "They're really comfortable!". It was weird wearing those, but you felt comfortable. He comes back with two cups, giving you one. "Thank you," you say, taking a sip. "I will go change quickly, okay?" he asks. You nod, drinking from your tea. You feel warmed up, but you know that you will have a cold tomorrow. Jungkook comes back wearing similar clothes as you. He smiles at you and gives you a blanket. Leaving once again to get the first aid kit.

Hugging the blanket, you turn to him. "I had an argument with my family," you say. He sits next to you, listening carefully. "You know, I wanted to go to an art school. I love drawing and everything about art. My family was against it. They want me to become something high. Don't ask me why they think being an artist is low or bad. Anyway, the first time we had that argument, like two years ago, I had house arrest. And yes, I am stubborn, and I didn't stop drawing. Today they found my box with all the sketches. My father turned red. He ripped them into pieces, and when I told him that I hadn't made a mistake, he slapped me. Oh, and he threw me out. " You could feel a tear escaping from your eye. Jungkook is quick; he pads the tear away with a broken smile. "I mean, they are my family. Why can't they accept me with my interests and opinions? Is it that wrong to have dreams? I don't get it; I just want to be loved. Is that too much to ask for?" Your voice sounds whiny. You lean your head against the armrest and cry. "You don't need to question yourself. Of course, it is normal to have expectations of your parents. It's their fault if they're not supporting you. And I know maybe it's easier to say than to do, but you shouldn't give up on your dreams because of them. You're a person who can decide what to do with your own life," he says while playing with your hair. You turn your head to look at him. "Thank you for being with me. I really appreciate it." He smiles at that. "No need to thank me. I will always support you." You sigh and say, "Jungkook, you're leaving in three months. It makes me more sad." Jungkook doesn't want to think about it. "Come here. Let's clean your wound first and then blow-dry your hair," he just says. He is gentle while cleaning your wound, and he also helps you blow-dry your hair.

"Do you feel a little better?" he asks, watching the way you look around. You hum, "I like your home! You put a lot of effort into it." Jungkook smiles at your voice. "Thank you," he says. You come back to him, sitting next to him. Awfully cute, he thinks. You know it will make everything more complicated, but you cuddled up to him and closed your eyes. He welcomes you into his arms. Playing with your hair to make you fall asleep. He couldn't help thinking about your family. It makes him so angry to know that they were treating you like that. He wished he could protect you from everyone.

–

The next morning feels worse than the last night. A headache is bothering you, and you are freezing. You get up from your lying position, looking around. Last night you fell asleep on the couch, and now you're lying on the bed. Jungkook is nowhere to be seen. Standing up, you walk to the living room, which also has the kitchen built in. Opening the door, you can smell some delicious food. Jungkook is cooking something and looks really serious in the process.

"Good morning," you say, pouting at your own voice. Jungkook smiles at you, "Good morning. You did catch a cold, right? Poor baby, come here; I cooked some soup." You walk to the table and sit down. "It's so cold," you say while holding the bowl he was giving you. He sits in front of you. "I hope the soup will warm you up a bit," he adds. For the record, the soup looks delicious and smells like a dream. Without a doubt, you eat it up.

"They asked about us in the group chat, and I told them that you're sick," he says after eating up as well. Only now do you realize that your phone is in your bag at home. Also, it was Monday. Monday is a school day. Your mouth hangs open now. "Oh my god, I totally forgot about school. Why are you here? You should go," you say, frowning. He simply looks at you disgustingly. "You really thought I would leave like this?". You shrug. Jungkook stands up to clean the table and starts to hum a song. That is a good moment for you to go to the bathroom and wash up. Peeking out of the bathroom, you ask him, "Is it okay for you when I take a quick shower?". He turns to look at you. "Yes, of course. In the closet, you can find some fresh towels."

After a quick shower, you come out to find him lying on the couch. You lay down, your head next to his stomach. Thinking about what you want to do. You can't stay here forever; your family will look for you. "I will go home later," you say quietly. He is watching you the whole time. "Are you sure? You can stay here as long as you want," he says, stopping his hand to find your hair. "Thank you for letting me stay. But I need to talk to them someday. Maybe I can move out?" You look up in his direction. "Yeah, maybe that's the best for you and your family. Maybe you need some time alone without them. But are you really going to change your dreams?" he asks hesitantly. "I don't know. I want to become an artist so bad," you say, feeling the urge to cry. "Look, my parents want me to become something important too. But I want to be a basketball player. I will do everything to make it," he says, smiling. "You sit up and show your pinky finger. "Let's make a promise. I will become an artist, and you will be a professional basketball player." He shows his pinky finger too and says, "Promise." So you make a pinky promise. He wants to hold your hand forever.

The knocking on the door made both of your heads look in the direction. Your fingers are no longer in a hug. "Aaah, I forgot to tell you that the others wanted to come over. After hearing that you're sick," Jungkook says while smiling with his teeth, He stands up to open the door, and the first one running in is Tae. "Yn, I missed you so much! Are you feeling better?" he asks you right away. You laugh at his words. "I missed you too! And yes, I feel a lot better." Jia puts some snacks on the table, and Jiho's eyes are going between you and Jungkook. "Jiho, no need to look like that. It's not just me having a cold. I had an argument with my parents," you say, knowing he would state some stupid shit. All of them sit down to listen to you.

After telling them the whole story without the part when your father slapped you because you're too embarrassed, they looked sad and angry at the same time. "Girl, you're really talented, and I don't think you should give up because of them," Jia says. Jiho and Tae quickly agree. "You can talk to them, and if they don't listen, their loss. We can organize a small apartment to live in." Tae suggests. "I don't know about that. I want to move out, but no money, dude," you say, trying to be realistic. "We can be roommates if you want. Those dorms will let us in, right?" Jia says hopefully. You nod. "You're right; we could try that. But don't feel like you need to do that. I can move in with some random girl." Jia rolls her eyes. "Come on, you know I hate living with my brothers. I was thinking about moving out too." You give her a flying kiss. "You know we can send your dad sketches as a letter," Tae says, like he had the best idea in the world. All of you started laughing. "He would kill us," you say while laughing. "Thank you for being my friends," you say after a while. Is it normal that Jungkook is hearing the word 'friends' echoed?

–

Jungkook is walking you home. He wished you could stay a little longer, but he knows that you need to talk to them. Back at Jungkook's place, you guys did some research about a dorm and the chances of a room in the middle of the school year. Luck was never on your side. The next free room was at the end of the year. So you wanted to talk to your parents about it and spend the rest of the school year at home until you can move to the dorm. In front of your house, Jungkook turns to you and says, "If anything happens, you just need to look out of your window. I will wait here a bit." You don't know what to say. He is caring a lot for you, and you don't know what to think about the meaning behind it. It's just that you feel special when he talks to you. "Thank you. I will inform you about everything. Don't worry!" you say while walking up the stairs. Jungkook walks over to stand under your window. He would burn the house down if your father tried to hurt you again.

You knock on the door, already hearing some steps. The door is opened by your sister. "So you came back," she says, trying to provoke you. The funniest girl, you thought. You walk in, knowing your parents would sit in the living room. Your mother is the first one to notice your presence. "There you are! I know you would come and apologize to your father," she says, a little too happy. You can't control your laughter. "No, I'm not here to apologize, mother. I just came back because I live here. And I don't want to live like you want me to. If you don't like my decisions and dreams, it's your problem. I can live with the fact that you will never support me. If you want, you can act like I died and whatever. I will move out at the end of the school year anyway and will live for my dreams."

The room is silent for a while. Your father turns to you and says, "I knew you would never become someone big. It was my fault for not seeing how stupid you are. Do whatever you want! At the end, you will come and beg me to help you out. And on that day I will laugh in your face. Just wait for it. Oh, and I will count the days until you're out of this house. You can go find a husband or a dorm; I don't care anymore," he says, venom in his voice. He really thinks he won? It is a win for you.

Turning back to your room, you look out of your window. Jungkook is standing there with a straight face. You quickly grab your phone from your bag and take a picture.

YN: Someone is watching me -.-

You see him looking around.

Kook: There is no one?

YN: [picture send] Looook :(

Jungkook looks up.

Kook: Omg, he is so good-looking 😍

You laugh at that.

YN: Jokes aside, I'm good. You can go home🙂‍↕️

Kook: Want to talk about it?

YN: Let's Facetime while u walk home

You quickly call him on FaceTime. Letting him stay on your desk while you try to fix your room. You tell him everything you and your father said. "I'm proud of you that you told him right away," he says while watching you move around. "Thanks. Can you see my room? It's such a mess. What was his intention, man?" you ask him while standing in the middle of it. Not knowing where to start. He is actually sad seeing your room in that condition. The last time he came, it was calming. "Yeah, I can help you tomorrow if you want," he suggests. "Nah, no need; I will throw away the stuff," you say. He watches you throw a lot of stuff into a plastic bag the same size as you.

Jungkook is already home, but you are in the flow of cleaning up, so he starts to clean up too. When both of you are done, it is already 2 am. You lay down on your bed with your phone. It didn't last long until you fell asleep. Jungkook comes back to his phone after realizing that you're not answering. He sees you sleeping and smiles. Okay, he takes a screenshot. Wishing you a good night, he hung up.

–

2 months later...

The time passed quickly. Now there are only four weeks left until Jungkook is returning home. You spent all day together, sometimes just the two of you, other times with your friends. Not only Tae, but all of your friends could see that Jungkook had obvious feelings for you. You were good at hiding what you felt.

It is almost 11 p.m., and you are working on your sketch. To be honest, you have been working on this one for weeks. You want to give it to Jungkook as a gift. It was a portrait of him wearing his favorite basketball team's jersey. The number '97' on the front side. The cozy mood in your room shifted when you heard your phone ringing. You sigh and pick up. "What do you want, Tae?". "Yn, could you come and pick us up? We are soooo full of drinks that it is cra-," he says while burping at the end. "Who are we?" you ask. You could hear the music in the back.

"Me and Jungkook silly," he says, laughing. Did you hear him right? Jungkook never told you about going out tonight. "Send me your location," you say, not waiting for a response. You hang up. You change into a pair of jeans and a tight black top. Getting your purse, you walk out of the house. Walking to the next taxi point, you check out the location. Fortunately, it was not that far away.

You step out of the car and walk into the location. It is a really crowded bar. You should wear something else and dance a little. Walking through the people with a small 'excuse me,' you give your best looking for them. In one corner, you see both of them with pretty girls around. Oh, okay, someone has fun; you thought watching Jungkook. He feels a burning stare on his face and immediately turns in your direction. You never saw him that drunk. He is waving at you with puppy eyes and a big smile. For a minute, you feel like a sky full of stars. You walk to them to stand in front of the table. Tapping your feet on the floor, you say, "What is going on here?" Tae gets scared and stops talking to the girl next to him. "It was so boring without you," Jungkook says, trying to reach your hand. Cute, you thought. The girls are not that happy about your arrival. You turn to one of them. "Sorry to interrupt, but I need to take them home." Surprisingly, she is kind and left with the other girls. "And you both! Follow me," you say, trying to look dangerous. You walk to the door, and after looking over your shoulder, you see that they are following you with their heads down. Oh, you totally feel like their mother.

Outside, you look at both of them. "Let's wait here for a taxi," you say. Then you decide to bring both of them to a wall on which they could lean. They are drunk as fuck. And of course there are no taxis around. You sigh in annoyance. "Can you both walk? There is no taxi; all are full. Maybe we could grab a coffee somewhere and go with a bus?" you suggest. "I'm fine; let's go," Jungkook says with a smirk. You want to rip that out of his face because you're melting. You stand in the middle of both, Tae holding one of your arms and Jungkook acting like he is totally fine. You guys start to walk down the street.

After ten minutes, you see an open cafe. You turn to Jungkook, "I will grab some coffee. Stay here with Tae, okay? You guys can also sit down on the sidewalk," you say. He nods his head, watching you walk in. "Look at those; they are laughing at us," Tae says while looking at a group of men. Jungkook looks in their direction. The group of men stopped talking and turned fully to them. "What are you looking at?" one of them says. "You're laughing at us!" Tae says. All of the men start laughing. "Come on, stupid boy, turn around. Your ugly face is giving me a hard time," another man says. "Who are you calling ugly?" Jungkook says, walking in the direction. At this moment, you walk out with two coffee cups in your hand. You are shocked to see that some of the men are walking towards Jungkook and that Jungkook and Tae are walking to the men. "You little shit, I will fuck you up," the man says. That is a clear signal for you to cut in.

"I'm so sorry, please stop this," you say while walking to Tae. Jungkook gives you a side eye. Not liking the fact that you apologized. "Go to the side, lady, if you don't want to get hurt," the shorter man says. "Who are you to talk to her like that?" Tae says. Jungkook was ready to throw a punch. You watch all the men standing there. There are five people, and you would count Jungkook and Tae as one person due to the fact that they were drunk. Without thinking much, you throw both of the coffee cups in the direction of the men. A loud gasp is heard from them. The coffee was hot. You turn to Jungkook and Tae and scream, "Run!".

You never ran away like this. The group of men is hot on your tracks. You feel like passing out at any moment. The energy is leaving your body. Jungkook notices that and holds your hand to pull you with him. After a run into small alleys, you stop. They lost you. Jungkook leans on the wall. Tae is sitting on the floor, and you are holding your knees. All of you needed a moment to catch your breath. When you look at both of them, you start laughing. It is so loud that an old woman opened her window to yell at you. With that, you walk away.

On your way, you finally found a taxi. Firstly, you made a stop at Tae's house. You help him get inside. Returning to the taxi, you give Jungkook's address. He is leaning against the window with a big smile. You look at him in question. "Are you mad at me?" he asks. He stopped smiling and looked like he was seconds away from crying. "Why should I?" you ask back. "I didn't know that he wanted to go to a bar. I would tell you. You know that, right?" He reaches for your hand. Now he is playing with your fingers. "Don't worry, I know you would tell me. I was just a little shocked," you say while smiling at him.

The car stops in front of his house, so you head out and help him get into the house. He sits down on the couch, and you help him get out of his shoes. "Next time when you go to a bar, you shouldn't drink that much. You both did! What would you do if nobody could get you?" you scold him. "I swear I said just one glass, and then he said, don't be a pussycat; drink more," Jungkook says. You look at him annoyed, "Wow, so smart of you." After helping him take off his shirt, you ask, "What were you guys talking about with the girls?". He scrunches his nose and replies, "Nothing; they were bubbling. Why are you asking?". You hum and toss the clean shirt in his face. "Ouch!" he says, still catching it. "Oh, sorry, I thought you saw me throwing it," you say. "Noooo, you're jealous!" he says after putting the shirt on. He quickly changes his jeans into black jogging pants. "I'm not jealous," you say. "I don't believe you! Don't worry, baby, you will be my number one forever," he says while wiggling his eyebrows. "Oh, shut up. Come on, go do your nightly routine, and then go sleep," you say after tossing the clothes that he took off into the laundry basket. "But you will stay here, right?" he asks with puppy eyes. You nod and smile at him.

After his nightly routine, Jungkook went to bed and fell asleep in the same second his head touched the pillow. You watch him from the doorframe. A little sad about the fact that he is leaving soon. You wish he would stay forever. Also, you do know that you two had a different bond than with the others. But nothing precious like this lasts forever, right?

–

It was early in the morning, and you were standing in Jungkook's kitchen. You were never good at cooking, but today you want to top your own skills. Tasting the soup, you scrunch your face. Yeah, you should do a favor for everyone and never cook again. You add some seasoning to make it more tasty. It is weird to feel that much like it's your own home. The thought of this ending soon makes you sad.

You are in your thoughts when Jungkook comes out of his room, his feet sweeping the whole floor. You turn around and watch his tired face until he looks up to meet you. He immediately starts smiling, "I thought you left." You gasp, "I was cooking for you! Come eat some, and then you can take some painkillers," you add. Jungkook rushes to his chair and starts eating. "You don't want to eat?" he asks you. You just shook your head. "Nope, I will meet Jia later. We have a girls date." He nods. Watching him eat was enough for you to light up your mood.

"Why did Tae want to go to a bar?" you ask while cleaning the space you used for cooking. He is done with eating. "I don't know; he told me he felt like it," he answers. It would be a lie if he said that he is not scared of your opinion about him now. The last thing he wants is for you to get a false impression of him. You walk towards him and hand him the painkillers with a glass of water. He gives you a flying kiss and swallows. "I need to go now. You can rest a bit," you suggest. Jungkook looks at you with puppy eyes. "Have fun," he says. You waved at him and left the apartment.

After doing his morning routine, Jungkook sits down with a paper and a pen. If anyone were to tell him that he was going to write a letter, he would definitely laugh at that. But no, it was the truth. He was shy to say the thoughts he had in his head, and he was a better writer. So why not write a letter about his feelings? He starts writing, and it got longer than he expected. After some hours, he finishes writing and looks around. Of course he needed to rewrite the letter over and over again. So he stands up and throws the scattered papers away. On his way back, he gets an envelope to put his letter in. Will he ever be able to give it to you?

–

11:30 PM

Jungkook wakes up from his sleep. His phone is vibrating the whole time. He doesn't know when he fell asleep. Sitting up, he gets his phone and sees missed calls and messages from you. He feels nervous scrolling through the messages.

Yn: I think I'm in trouble?!?!?!

Yn: Could you maybe pick us up?

Yn: I guess you're asleep. Sorry for disturbing.

He didn't waste more time reading all of your messages; instead, he called you right away. It took you longer to answer, and he didn't even realize that he was holding his breath. "Omg, Jungkook?!" you ask, out of breath. "What happened? Are you okay? I fell asleep, so I didn't see your messages," he asks. You sigh and add, "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you worry. We got in trouble with some guys. We're at the hospital right now. But we're okay! Jiho is on the way." Jungkook stands up and walks to the door. "I'm coming," he says while rushing down the stairs. You could hear him running.

"Thank you for coming, Jiho," Jia says. You could see that she was tired. "Jiho, could you bring her home? I will walk; it's not that far," you ask him. "Is Jungkook coming?" he asks back. "Yes, he was on his way. I will walk with him; don't worry," you say and wave at them. At the same time, you see Jungkook rushing towards you. You try to smile because you know he would scold you a little.

"Omg, what happened?" he asks right away. "Good night to you too," you say, half joking. You pull him with you while walking home. "We just had an argument with some dudes. They were bullying a young boy, so we tried to help him. But they were a little drunk and started to push us. Then the police came out of nowhere, and we escaped without realizing that we didn't do anything wrong. That's it," you say nonchalantly. He looks at you in shock. "Did you get hurt? Why would you run away?!" he asks while checking up on you. "I just scratched my arm because I felt down. But it doesn't hurt anymore," you say, holding his wrist. "Yn! It's so dangerous to get into an argument with strangers. Why would you do that?!". "Oh, come on, Jungkook! I just wanted to help that poor boy!" you say, scoffing. He looks at you like, 'Oh, really?' "You could call the police," he says. Yes, you could, but in that moment everything happened so fast that you forgot to think about it.

"Stop scolding me! I will never call you again," you say, getting mad at him. "Oh, come on! You know that I'm right. I'm just thinking about you. Show me your injury," he says a little softer. "I don't want to," you say, pouting at him. He starts stroking your hair. "Come on. I'm just worried about you, and I don't want you to get hurt." You give him a side eye. "Next time call me and I'll show them what it is to argue with you," he says, wiggling his eyebrows. It's his way of making you laugh by saying random things. You just want him to go on and see his limits. "I'm getting sad. Are you ignoring me for real? Did I say something wrong? That wasn't my intention. I just got scared, and also I don't want to come to the hospital and see you in other conditions," he says, looking at his shoes. "I'm not mad! I just wanted to give you the silent treatment. I know that it was stupid to get into a fight with them. That was the last time. We were a little stupid, I promise," you say, patting his head. He immediately smiles up. It was nice to know someone cared for you.

–

School days are always boring and tiring. Today is exactly the same way. You and your friends are sitting in the school cafeteria because of the one lesson where the teacher was sick and you guys had study time for your own. You are drinking mango juice while taking notes for the next lesson. "Did you look for some colleges to go to after finals?" Jia asks. Tae scoffs at the question, "Why is everyone asking that? My parents also started talking about it, and I really feel nervous." You pat his back with a sad smile. "I'm interested in laws, maybe in that area something," Jiho says. To be honest, you are thinking about this question a lot because you know you have to deal with your parents. You had a lot of discussions with them, and you know their opinions will never change, but it felt like a big stone in front of your dreams. It's hard to go on a lonely journey without them, and you're scared that things will turn out differently than expected. Jungkook notices that you were deep in thought, so he slightly taps your arm. Turning towards him, you smile softly. "What about you? Art, is it right?" he asks and tilts his head, remembering the pinky promise. "I'm not sure about it," you answer honestly. The other three are deep in conversation, so it feels a little easier to open up. "What's that supposed to mean? I thought it was a big dream of yours," he says, looking a little confused. "Yeah, it is. But I'm not ready to deal with my family, I guess.".

"You know it's your life, and nobody should dig into it. Why would you give up your dream for them? I know they're family, but at the end of the day, you can try what you dream of." He is looking into your eyes with hope. "It's easy for you to say so, Jungkook. I've been dealing with them for over five years about this topic. It was not allowed to own things based on art. Do you really think they will be okay with it? I know I told them that I would move out and live my dream. But I don't know what if I'm the only one thinking it is worth it? Sometimes I overthink about it. At the end, my decision is my dream, but I'm also confused." you say with a straight face. "Look, I know what you mean, but if you go to that college, they will accept it at the end of the day, and you're thinking too much about it," he says. "No, they will not. They will wait for a moment to see me fall so that they can say we told you. And you know they would never offer me a helping hand. If I go for my dreams, I will lose them. And this doesn't even sound scary. I would be okay with that now, but will I be in the future?" you say while shaking your head. "Ah, come on, that's too dramatic. You need to take a risk sometimes. I also have the feeling that you're scared. Why don't you trust your skills?

Don't be a chicken and be scared of a new way!". He is scolding you for your words.

It is strange to feel hurt by that because he was trying to give you some courage. You also don't know why the next words come out like that. "Sorry that I'm scared to be alone and confused about my future. I wish my parents would be like yours, sending me to other cities and countries for my dreams. We are not on the same boat, Jungkook." His words feel like salt over a wound. How pathetic! You need to give up all your dreams for your parents, and other parents would give up everything to fulfill their children's dreams. Jungkook is stunned to say anything; it totally took him off. You gather your things and thoughts. "I need some books at the library; see you in class" are your last words before leaving. Jungkook watches you and turns to his friends, who are looking at him questioningly. "What happened?" Tae asks. "I think I crossed a line without realizing." He could feel a sting in his chest. It never was his intention to hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable.

Jungkook wanted to talk to you again, but you were busy doing other stuff. Ignoring him till the end of the school day and also disappearing on the way home. For him, it feels like weight.

–

"Oh, come on, man, slow down," Tae says while trying to get the bottle in Jungkook's hand. "I texted her, and she didn't even respond to me. She will never talk to me again? Fuck, I never thought I would make her feel hurt," he responds. The boys met for a drinking session, and he was already tipsy.

"Bro, maybe she wanted to think it over before talking with you. She does that a lot. You know we had a lot of arguments, and she never ghosted me," Jiho says with a little smile. Jungkook finishes his glass full of soju. "I don't know," he says. He will try every chance to talk to you again, but he feels like shit knowing that he hurt you. "You can buy something really big for her birthday! It's on the weekend, remember?" Tae suggests. Jungkook freezes on his spot. "Her birthday?" he asks. "Yeah, on Saturday," Jiho answers. "She will not invite me to her birthday, right?" he cries out. Both men are shocked and watch his little tantrum. "I will go and talk to her," Jungkook says while getting up. Tae tries to stop him, but it isn't working. He is already on his way to you.

You are brushing your hair after a shower and also think about the conversation with Jungkook. Yeah, you totally overreacted because he never wanted to make you feel bad or anything like that. You decide to talk to him tomorrow and tell him that you're a little sensitive and that you are sorry for the reaction. After finishing your nightly routine, you walk to your bed. At that moment, someone familiar opens the window and crawls in. You are so shocked that nothing comes out of your mouth, and you grab a pillow to throw it at him. Jungkook looks up to meet your eyes.

"Oh my god, are you crazy?!" you whisper at him. "Hi," he says with a lazy grin. "You are not answering my messages, so I needed to reach out," he adds. "I wanted to talk to you in person tomorrow, dummy," you answer. You walk to the door and lock it. Turning back, you sit down in front of him. "Look, I know I hurt you, but that was never my intention. I just wanted to help you make a decision. But I know it's not okay to say you're a chick. You're not! I should empathize more. I can understand if you don't want to talk to me, but give me a chance. Hmm, I will do everything you want! Maybe I could buy you so-" He starts talking, but you cut him off with your hand on his mouth. "I'm sorry I overreacted a little bit. You know I'm really sensitive with this topic because everything seems like a burden to me. But I never forget our pinky promise. Don't worry," you say and reach for his hand. He watches the way you are holding his hand and moving your thumb up and down. "No, I'm sorry. I wanted to make you feel better and feel supported, but it was the wrong way. I know how hard it is for you. How you're struggling with them. You feel little with them, right?" He is looking straight into your eyes. You could feel the tears threatening. "I feel lonely," you confess, and a little tear escapes your eye. He is quick enough to catch your tear with his fingers. "I will be here for you," he says. "You're leaving soon," you reply. "I love you," he says with a smile. "You're drunk" is the only thing you could say. "Maybe! But my feelings will not change because of alcohol," he whispers. Maybe it was like a promise. It wasn't easy to hold onto that because knowing that all of this will end soon made you feel sick.

For a moment you want to hold the time and forget everything else. You lean forward to kiss him. He caught that quick and also leaned in. Kissing him felt like a new wave of hope. He is holding your cheek to deepen. After some seconds, you pull away to catch your breath. Jungkook smiles at you and kisses your cheek. "Come on, drink first, and after that, we can sleep on my bed," you say while standing up. Jungkook sits down on the bed waiting for you. On your desk is a cup of water that you hand him. He drinks all of it while looking at you. It makes you nervous, and you couldn't hold your laugh. "You're cute when you're drunk," you say. He pouts at you, "Just when I'm drunk?". You help him lay down and take your own spot. Jungkook pulls you into his arms and starts stroking your hair. Tonight, after a long time, is the first time that you fell asleep right away. And your sleep was actually good.

–

The next morning came fast. You are the first one to open your eyes, watching him in his peaceful sleep. You start playing with his soft hair. If there was a chance of a wish for you, you would wish for him to stay with you. But you're not selfish enough to ask him to stay. Would he consider that anyway? You watch him open his eyes and look around before finding yours. He smiles at you lazily and brushes one strand of hair behind your ear. His movements are soft, and you want more.

"Did you sleep well?" you ask him while sitting up. He is holding your hand and nods. "I would like to offer you breakfast, but if my parents see you, we are both dead," you say. Jungkook finally sits up and pats your head. "All good. I will wait for you on the bench so we can go to school." You nod and stand up to go to the bathroom. He didn't want to let go of your hand, but he gave up soon. After finishing your routine, it was Jungkook's turn. You start to change your clothes when Jungkook finishes his job. He froze on his spot when he caught you without your sleeping shorts. It didn't take him long to turn around and quickly say, "Sorry." You laugh at that and try to hide your red cheeks that you got. When you're done, Jungkook escapes from the window, and you prepare two sandwiches for the way.

As promised, he is waiting on the bench with a big smile. "Here, I made you a sandwich," you say while offering. He takes a bite without taking it from you. You watch his face getting angry. Yep, that is a good sign. Then he takes it from your hand and starts eating.

–

It was Thursday, and Jungkook was five seconds away from getting on his knees to cry. Tae is holding his arm because he knows what will happen when Jungkook stops you. For the record, it was after school, and everyone wanted to go on a shopping trip, but without you. The reason was obvious: your birthday presents. And of course you asked them if they wanted to grab a boba with you. They needed to make some weird excuses, and your face changed into a sad expression. As you walked away while saying, "Okay, I will go alone and see you tomorrow," Jungkook was ready to call you back. Jia turns to the men standing next to her and says, "I will go with her. I bought my present a long time ago." She is rushing to get to you. "Calm down, dude. She will understand," Tae says to Jungkook. So the men club walks to the nearest shopping mall. Tae and Jiho are deep in thought about the perfect gift. Jungkook knows what he wants to buy.

"Where were you, man?" Tae asks after Jungkook came. "I bought the present," he answers. "Dude, I thought we were going to look together. That's unfair," Jiho says while pouting. "I knew what I wanted to buy, so it was easy. Now I can help you guys," he says. Tae waves with the bag in his hand and says, "We already bought something." The three of them went to the food court and ate. Jungkook is sitting with his phone in his hand, waiting for your response.

Kook: What are you doing??

sent

Tae and Jiho shared a knowing look. Both want to say something, but it is easier while they were practicing than now. "Are you feeling something towards yn?" Jiho asks. The question so heavy that also Tae choked on his drink. Jungkook looks up in confusion. "What do you mean?" he asks. "Come on, don't act stupid. You know what I mean. Just answer the question". All of them are quiet for a moment.

"I never felt something like this towards someone," he says after a while. Tae smiles at his words, "We can tell." Jungkook shrugs his shoulders. "I know it's unrealistic. I will leave soon. I don't know how I will turn back to my usual life and pretend like nothing happened here. I can't ask her to come with me, and I can't stay because I don't know if she is feeling the same way. Thinking about it makes me feel like dying slowly". Both men are listening to him with a sad expression. "Every end can be a part of a start. Just because you're leaving doesn't mean it will end. You can go to a college in the same city or nearby. Meet up every other day. It's all about communication, Jungkook. If both of you want a future together, then it will work out. You both just need to make some efforts. You should find the answer to her feelings first," Tae says while tapping on Jungkook's shoulder.

Jungkook nods. "You think we could work?" he asks with teary eyes. "Of course. Love shouldn't be about a perfect plan. It will make it more passionate when you need to fight for it. Time will show you at the end if it's working. And if not, you will at least not regret anything," Tae answers. "Thank you, Tae. That was a big help for me," Jungkook says and wipes off his tears. A small sob is heard. Both of them are confused and turn to Jiho, who was crying. "I'm all whiny when it comes to love struggles," he says, struggling to speak. "I never saw Jiho like this," Tae says and starts laughing. Jungkook joined him and thanked God that he met friends like them.

–

You are sitting with Jia, sipping from your boba. Your mind was on someone else, yes, of course Jungkook. Why would he go without you? Now some scenarios going inside your head. How ridiculous to think about the worst cases; he is seeing someone. Jia senses that you were deep in thought. At the same time, she is checking the birthday group for pictures of the gifts that the boys are sending. Your phone vibrates, and that is a good thing for stopping your weird thoughts and a help to come back to this moment. Jungkook's message makes you smile; he was thinking about you. But who would you be if you answered right away? With a lighter heart, you start talking with your best friend and forget to reply.

–

Kook: Are you alive?!

sent

Kook: Are you ignoring me? TT

sent

He is seconds away from walking to your house and climbing up the window. It is enough for him to fuck up the plan and tell you everything about the present shopping just to clarify that he would love to go to the mall with you, and he would never say no to a boba date. He randomly stands up from his bed and picks up his jacket. If you're not answering, then he will get the answer face to face.

Yn: Why would I ignore you? o.o

Jungkook heard his phone vibrating and threw away the jacket in his hands. Jumping on the bed to lie back and answer quickly.

Kook: Idk... you didn't reply

Yn: Sorry, my battery died:(

Kook: nah it's okay now I know that everything is fine

Yn: yes! Good night 🫶🏼

Kook: good night <3

He needs to see you tomorrow to check if you're sulky at all.

–

You are walking to the classroom with a big smile on your face. This morning you decided to cook for yourself and Jungkook. Okay, you're not the best cook, but it tasted really good. Halfway through the hallway, you stop in your tracks. Is that Jungkook with the pretty girl from the other class? They are talking and laughing. You never saw them talk before, so it's hard to understand from where the closeness came. You watch them a little, and seeing her touching him the whole time makes you sick. The feeling is new in your heart, but you don't want to overthink it. Could it be that your weird scenarios from yesterday were true? Are they more than strangers? Bitter, you feel bitter.

Jungkook talks with Yuna about a school club. Explaining that he was gone next week, so he couldn't extend any of the clubs. He is talking to her for the first time, but he can feel that the girl in front of him wants to know more about him. The conversation is smooth, and he has fun. Until his eyes wander off to the back, and there you are standing. You look a little confused. His eyes meet yours, and that is a signal for you to walk away. Jungkook's face drops quickly, and he cuts the conversation off gently. Wishing her goodbye, he walks to the class.

By the time you are sitting at your desk and looking at something on your phone. The weather is perfect. Jungkook sits in front of you. "Good morning," he says. You didn't look up but answered quickly with a good morning. From the corner of your eyes, you could see him sulking. "Are you mad at me because of yesterday? Come on, I will tell you about it tomorrow!" he says. This is a big hint because tomorrow he wants to count down your birthday. "I'm not mad at you because of yesterday. I just thought we were close enough that you would tell me about the girls you're seeing," you say while putting your phone away. He opens his mouth to say something, but he is stunned. "I'm not seeing anyone. Why would you think that?" he asks. You start looking at him in disbelief. "The girl from earlier wants you. It was so clear," you say. He laughs at that and adds, "I don't care about that; I want someone else." Why is he wiggling with his eyebrows right now?!

"Anyway, I don't care. I cooked lunch for both of us, but now I don't want to share," you say with a pouting face. "Aw, don't lie. You care! And how cute of you to cook for me as well. Can we please share? I want to taste it," he says. You start glaring at him, but his cute face is no help. He starts playing with your fingers. "You know the day I came to your room a little drunk after our first fight?" he asks, not looking up. You nod. "I remember what I said. And I was honest about it". He looks into your eyes. You never answered, but that also never was his intention. He wanted to talk about his feelings, and he will wait until you can talk about yours. His words are enough to make you smile. "I like serious men," you say. "So you like me?" he asks. You look around the room; everyone was inside their own bubble. You come closer to kiss him on the cheek. "Answer your own question," you whisper. It feels like a dream.

At lunchtime you take out two lunch boxes. One in front of Jungkook and one in front of yourself. He opens it with sparkling eyes. "It looks so good, omg," he says. You also cut the vegetables in star shapes. He laughs at that and starts eating. You watch his expression, and seeing him angry was a good sign. Eating happily together is peace for both of you. "Do you have plans for tomorrow night?" he asks after finishing his food. "Hmm, no. Why?" you look at him. "Let's do something together and count down. On Saturday we could celebrate with the rest of the group," he suggests. "Okay, I'm in. What are we going to do? you ask. "It's a surprise," he answers, smiling.

–

It is Friday night, and you are getting ready to meet Jungkook. You decide to wear a black skirt and a cropped brown turtleneck. In front of the door, you wear your leather jacket, scarf, and black Converse. Of course you told your parents that you are going to Jia.

Walking down the street, you see Jungkook waiting. He looks hot with his hair done and an outfit that is matching yours. He sees you coming and waves. Only then did you see the red roses in his hand. That makes your heart skip a beat. "Hi," you say with a shy smile. "Hi, you look beautiful," he says and hands you the roses. "Thank you! They're so pretty, like you," you say while smiling like an idiot. "Come on, let's go. We only have 30 minutes. We will count down at home," he tells you the plan for the night.

After a quick walk, you could see the sea shining. The stars are beautiful, and you feel happy after a long time. "Actually, I wanted to eat the cake here with you, but then I decided to only watch the stars with you instead," he says. "You know that I love the night and the sea," you say. Now you were walking beside the water. It is calming to walk while listening to the water. "I think you were right. That girl from yesterday found me on Instagram and texted me," he suddenly shares. You look at him confused and ask, "What did she say?". "If I want to meet her," he replies. You frown at that. It is selfish to want him only for yourself because, yeah, he is hot, and every girl would want him. "Don't worry; I blocked her right away," he says after the pause. "Why would I worry?" you say, trying to hide the relief. "So you would be okay if I went out on a date with her?" he asks, surprised. "Slow down," you say faster than expected. Jungkook couldn't control his laugh. "Don't worry, baby, I'm all yours," he says, holding up both of his hands. You turn to him with an annoyed expression. "Stop teasing me." "Me? I would never. But you're pretty when you're jealous," he says and continues to laugh.

"You wish for a tragic death," you say while putting the roses behind you. Then you push him into the water. It is so sudden that he loses his balance and falls into the water. You start laughing at him. But you didn't expect him to pull you. It is not deep enough, but your clothes are wet anyway. Both of your laughs ringing in the air. Jungkook places his hands on your waist and starts to dance. Both of you lost in each other's eyes. When was the last time you felt this happy? He starts to sing a love song you never heard before, but you love it. After he finishes, it is a sign for you to move closer. His lips so dangerously close to yours. You start kissing him while your fingers make their way up to his hair on the back. He quickly matches your lip movements. Slipping his tongue inside your mouth. The moment is like an old romantic story. You break the kiss to catch a breath. Both of you are smiling happily. Until you splash water into his face. A second of silence before you grab your roses and start running in panic. He is so fast, "Yah! Don't run away!" he screams behind you. Now you know what to wish for when you blow out the candles.

You are getting inside Jungkook's apartment. He tells you to wait in the living room. You use the time to take off your jacket and put the flowers on the table. Because of your wet clothes, you sit down on the floor. Five minutes later, Jungkook comes back with a birthday cake. Your favorite, strawberry cheesecake. The lights of the candles a beautiful contrast on his skin. He starts singing happy birthday, and you couldn't resist hiding your face with your hands. He sits down in front of you, placing the cake on the table. "Come on, blow it off," he says. You close your eyes for a moment. Thinking of the perfect wish, him. Opening them, you blow out. He claps his hands and starts cutting the cake. You don't know why you want to cry right now. Feeling emotional about the whole situation. Tears pour down your face, and you hate yourself for ruining the moment. Jungkook looks up to give you the slice. "A big slice for the birthday prince—" he stops mid-sentence. You could see the worry in his face. "What happened?" he asks. "I don't want you to leave me," you say with a sob. Saying it out loud made it more painful. He would be gone next week. Jungkook swallows the lump in his throat. "I don't want to leave too," he says, reaching for your hand. You couldn't stop crying, and he comes next to you. Hugging you tight, you lean on his shoulder. "I'm sorry for ruining this now," you told him. "Yah come on. For me it's important what you feel. Never hide it from me, okay?" he says. You nod your head. His gentle fingers are wandering on your back.

Pulling away, you look into his eyes. He brushes your hair away. This time it is him who leans closer to kiss. It feels more intimate than at the beach. He pulls you into his lap while holding your waist. The kiss deepens, and you start to move on his lap a little. Feeling a heat between your legs. His hands sliding inside your cropped turtleneck. You break the kiss and look at him with lust. "Do you want to go on?" he asks with a low voice. Nodding your head, he stands up with you on his arms. He places you on the bed and gets off his shirt. You watch his body while he gets onto the bed and starts kissing your neck. "You're so pretty," he whispers. "Can I take this off?" he asks while his fingers pull at the turtleneck. "Yes," you say a little nervous. You help him get it off. His hands start discovering your body quickly. And the next, your skirt was gone. Lying between his legs, he starts placing kisses around your boobs and stomach. Playing with the hem of your panties, he looks into your eyes for confirmation. You nod quickly and brush his hair with your hand. He takes them off, and they find a place on the floor. "Fuck," he says and starts playing with your sensitive folds. Your moans fill the room. Jungkook is quick to start with his tongue. "You taste amazing, baby," he says. You start fisting his hair. It felt better than imagined. After some time you moan his name, "Oh my god. I think I- I'm coming," you say. "Come pretty girl," he says softly. It is enough for you to shake underneath him. He swallows you happily.

After coming down from your high, you open your eyes. He is watching you like you are the prettiest night sky. The next thing gone is your bra. His fingers and tongue playing with your boobs gently. You had enough courage now to start wandering your fingers on his chest. They quickly find his belt, which you open right away. He helps you take off his pants. Only in his boxers, he watches your body. In his eyes you were the most beautiful he ever saw. His fingers find your folds again. This time pushing in. You moaned at the sudden stretch. He adds one more finger and gently pushes and pulls out of your hole. When he thought it was enough, he pulled out and licked his fingers with a smile. You smile back at him and play with the hem of his boxers. He takes them off, and your eyes wander to his dick. Yeah, he definitely is big. "I need to tell you something," you say. He caresses your face and says, "Tell me, baby." "I never did this before. It's my first time," you whisper a little embarrassed. He smiles at that. "We can stop here if you want." You pout, "No, I want this." "Okay, we will do this together. It will hurt a little, but then you will feel amazing. Trust me?" he says, planting a kiss on your jaw. "I always trust you." "It's also the first time for me," Jungkook says. Now feeling more emotional. You smile at him. "Shit, I have no condom. I can go and buy some," he says, frustrated trying to get off. You stop him. "It's okay for me. I'm on the pill". He nods at that.

"Are you ready?" he asks while starting to stroke his dick. "Yes," you answer. One hand is holding yours, and the other one is guiding his dick to your entrance. He slowly pushes his tip in. "Relax, baby." Pain shoots up through your body as he pushes his length into you inch by inch. You moan his name, and he is kissing your neck while his free hand caresses your hips. With a final thrust, he is all nestled in. He waits for you to adjust to his size. You close your eyes, feeling tears filling. It feels stretched, and it burns a little. But feeling Jungkook's lips on your body makes it all better. "You can move," you say. That is a sign for him, so he starts to slowly pull back and push in. He moans at the sensation. Quickly finding a pace that is okay for both of you. It is more than fucking; it is making love. Your bodies and hearts were one. His room is filled with the sound of bodies and moans. The night is long until you shook underneath him, reaching your high. He soon after spilled his thick ropes of cum into you. Feeling it makes you moan into his lips. After controlling his breath, he slowly pulls out and watches his cum spilling out.

Jungkook helps you clean up, and you took a shower together. You are in his arms like a koala when you turn back to his room. Wearing one of his shirts. He sits you down on his desk with a kiss on top of your hair. Then he turns to the bed and starts changing his sheets. You see the little bloodstain on it. After unfolding the fresh sheets, you lay down. He hugs you tight. "I love you." You kiss his cheek as an answer to his words. Sleep was pulling you, and Jungkook was happy to watch you.

–

Jungkook is the first one to wake up. He enjoys the view and starts playing with your hair. His head full of questions, are you going to regret everything? Your eyes flutter open and meet his. You smile at him and move closer to warm up. He smiles at that and hugs you even more. "Good morning, baby," he says. You place a kiss on his neck. "Good morning. Do you want to know what I dreamed about?" you ask. He nods his head. "About the cake. I forgot to taste it," you say, pulling away. You jut out your lip while watching his movements. "You can eat all of it if you want. Come on," he says and stands up. Holding his hand, you walk to the living room. You sit down on the floor and start to eat. "Whoa, so tasty." Jungkook carefully watches you with a smile.

He suddenly stands up and walks back to the bedroom. Soon coming back with a box in his hand. "I forgot to give you your present," he says. Sliding the little box on the table towards you as a signal to open it. You look at him confused. Opening the box, you see matching silver rings with little diamonds around them. You start laughing, "Are you going to propose?". He rolls his eyes. "Marrying you is on my list, but it's too soon," he adds. "So romantic," you say while getting shy. You take out one of the rings and try it on your middle finger. With joy you show him it. "Now showing me a middle finger? Tsk," he says. You take out the other one, which is a little bit bigger than yours. "Which finger?" you ask. "Index," he answers. You slide it on his finger. He touches your hand. "It looks so cute." You take out your phone and take a picture of your hands. "I love it," you say with a big smile. "Thank you, Jungkook," you add after a little pause. "But I want you to wear it forever until I buy you a new one," he says. You nod at him, "Of course. But you too!". "I promise," he says.

After eating more cake, you started getting ready for the celebration with your friends. All of you rented a party room with karaoke and music. Dancing to party hits and singing your lungs out. Of course, alcohol wasn't missing. Tae forced you to play a drinking game. Both of you are already tipsy. Jungkook watched you the whole day, drinking fewer. When you called it a day, everyone started getting home.

You knew that your family wasn't home, so Jungkook helps you to get into your room. "I need to do my routine," you say and walk to the bathroom. He helps you get your makeup off and brush your teeth. Sitting on the bed, you wait for him to give you your pajamas. He helps you change and tucks you into bed. Patiently waiting for you to fall asleep. "Happy birthday," he whispers before leaving.

–

1 week later...

If you could stop the time, you would do it right now. It was one day before Jungkook returns home, and you felt more than sad. You talked a lot about this topic, but none of you had the courage to ask to stay or come. But you decided to stay in contact and go to a college that is near to meet. Why is it feeling like it will never happen and everything will end in this city?

When you arrive at the restaurant for the last dinner, you fight not to cry. It's your fault to have such a relationship with him while you knew he would be gone soon. You try to not think about it tonight. Walking inside, you can already see everyone sitting at the table. "I'm so sorry for being late," you say. "Nah, all good. I also came seconds before," Tae says. You sit down next to Jungkook (it was the only free chair). He smiles at you and you return it. Everyone starts to order food and drinks. After some time the table is full and you start eating.

"I can't believe that the time flew by so fast," Jiho says in disbelief. "Time is so crazy," Jia adds. You silently eat your pasta. Jungkook is worried about you. He can imagine what is happening inside your head. But he knows you will try to play it off tonight. Finishing your food, you start to sip from your wine. Tae gives Jungkook a little side eye, and you catch that. Perfect, your plan wasn't going anywhere. Everyone knows about my feelings, you think. It feels uncomfortable that every one of them looked at you from time to time. Oh, they want you to cry. The waiter quickly took the empty plates. You start eating the fruits and think of their story. The silence is killing you.

Tae waves a bag in front of Jungkook's face while he is busy looking at you. He turns to the bag in surprise. "That is a little gift from us all. I know we will see each other again, but I want you to remember us in this memory," Tae says. "Thank you so much. I really appreciate it," Jungkook says. He pulls out a box and opens it to see the black watch. "It's so pretty," he says and starts wearing it right away. Why is it so warm in here? You can feel your eyes getting watery. And at this second you start scolding yourself. It was the last dinner together, and you don't want him to remember it like a funeral.

"I remember the first day when we were waiting for the exchange students. You were standing next to the teacher like a proud little kid," you suddenly say and start to laugh. "Oh my god, yes! They acted like it's a big mystery," Jia adds, also laughing at the memory. Jungkook is happy to see you laughing. "I was nervous, okay? New city and new people. It's not that easy," he says to defend himself. "Ah, come on. There were already rumors that you are hot," Tae says. "Everybody wanted to see you," Jiho says with a grin. You could see his ears getting red. "Are you shy?" you ask him with a smile. "It's a little embarrassing," he answers with a pout. You laugh at that and poke his cheek. "Come on, I would feel like an idol if I were you," you say. He sticks his tongue out. The night goes on like that. Everyone telling a funny story and you feel the bonding.

Getting out of the restaurant, you start walking to the nearest station. Because of the sea, it was a lot windier, but it felt good. "Let's leave a memory of us behind," Jia says and kneels down. All of you walk towards her. She takes out a black pen that is thick enough to write on the ground. It was a little place on the floor full of names. She started writing the names. You smile at the heart she drew next to them. "We need to meet here in ten years," she says. You think about it; in ten years, where are you? What happened in your life? Are you in touch with Jungkook?

Like always, you bid goodbye to your friends. Now only you and Jungkook are walking together. "I will miss you," he says suddenly. It cuts through the silence and your heart. "I will miss you too," you say. "I never expected you to return my words, but do you have feelings for me?" he asks with soft eyes. You turn to him. "Do you think I would be like that without having feelings for you?". He nods, but you know that this is not what he is asking for. "I know that you want to hear the magic three words," you say and pause for a moment. "I will not say it to you," you add. He looks confused and asks, "Why?". "I'm scared that it will be the end of us. So I'm giving you something to wait for us," you say. His head now hanging low. When he decides to look up, you see tears streaming down his face. It is the last straw for your own tears. "This will never be the end of us, right?" he asks with a sparkle of hope. You shrug your shoulders and step closer to him. Hugging him tightly, you kiss his neck. His hands find their place on your waist. The time should stop now.

–

In the morning, all of you stand in front of Jungkook's house. It was time to go for him. He started saying goodbye to everyone. Standing in front of you, he hands you an envelope. "This is for you," he adds. You take it and smile at him. "If this is the end, will you come to my first gallery event?" you ask him. He smiles at that and answers, "I will. And will you come to my first match?". "I will," you say while wiping off your tear. He kisses you on the lips a little longer than planned. Turning around, he waves goodbye to all of you. "I will miss you," Tae says with teary eyes. "I will miss you too. Thank you for everything," Jungkook says before getting into the taxi. You watch the car drive away. Without saying anything, you walk back home. You realize that you never walked back alone from his house. This was reason enough to start crying.

Walking into your room, you lock the door. You sit down on the floor and look at the window. Can he crawl in? You look at the envelope. Why does it feel so suffocating? Opening it, you start reading the letter he left:

Dear Yn,

It's my second time writing a letter. And I needed a lot of tries to finish this one. My first letter was a confession about my feelings towards you, but I managed to say I love you. I wished I could tell you all of this, but I know that I will break down. If you're reading this, it means I'm on my way home. First of all, I want to thank you for everything. For every moment that you shared with me. I wish I could stay a little longer or promise you that this is a beginning. Maybe we will never see each other again, but never forget that these moments will always remain special to me. I will hold my promises, so please do it too. Live for your dreams and never give up, okay? If this is our end, I wish you a lovely future. A true love, someone who would stay with you no matter what. I hope you're not mad at me for leaving. I just know that it's unrealistic to say, Fuck everything; I will stay, or I will take you with me. Why are we so young? Anyway, I will always be there for you no matter what. Please call me if you need to. Never forget that I love you. I will wait for the day that you will say it back.

Your (I will always be yours)

Jungkook

Note: Please listen to the CD. I wrote the song and sang it for you.

You can't control your tears. It hurts so much that you want to cry until there are no more tears left. "I love you so much," you whisper. He was the only one who wanted your happiness. Not your family; it was him who supported your dreams. Of course your friends were also there for you. But he was special. Your first with a lot. With shaking hands, you take out the CD and put it in your CD player. Jungkook's soft voice starts playing. The song familiar to your ears. He sang it at the beach on your birthday. You cried yourself to sleep. Hoping he would be in your dreams.

–

˚₊✩‧₊2024˚₊✩‧₊

You are standing with a little group of people talking about your last works. It was your first gallery event, and you feel excited about it. More and more people come to look at your work. At the end you're happy about every single piece. You could see Tae, Jia, and Jiho standing at the table. Excusing yourself, you walk towards them. "Hiii! Thanks for coming," you say. "Everything looks so good," Tae says. You smile at him, "Thank you." "At the end it was worth it," Jia says with a smile. "Yeah, you're right," you answer. After talking a bit, you walk away to look at your own pieces and answer some questions. You stand longer at one piece, which is your favorite. You gave it the title 'end of time.' A beach at night, with two people dancing and a bucket of roses on the sand. It reminds you of your 19th birthday.

"This looks familiar," a voice says. You turn to him in disbelief. "You came," you say with a low voice. Jungkook smiles at you. "I promised." You return the smile and play with your ring that he gifted you ten years ago.

–

┊͙Epilogue - 2014┊͙

Jungkook is sitting on the train wiping his tears. He decides to listen to some music for distraction. Opening his travel bag, he finds a small bag. He doesn't remember putting this in his travel bag. He takes out the frame and starts smiling. It is a drawing of him with his favorite jersey on. Your signature on the right side. His tears start to flow again. He grabs the piece of paper and starts reading:

I hope you like it! Sorry for sneaking this in, but I wanted to surprise you. I know you're sad about the whole situation, but stop being so. I know that this will not be the end. How ridiculous it would be for two people who love each other to break contact just because they're not living next door! Right? I love you, but despite it, wait to hear it from me, okay? Now stop sulking and enjoy your ride back. <3

Today he is smiling for the first time thanks to you. You make him feel sad and happy at once. He is happy that he had the chance to get to know you and love you. And also being loved by you. He played all of his luck on this, and he regrets not a bit.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Thank you for reading! This is my first work, so I hope you enjoyed it. Also, English is not my first language, so excuse me for mistakes.

I love and hate open endings. Do you think they met at the gallery for the first time after ten years? Maybe I will write a part 2 about all the things that were left open. Depends on how many people are interested in reading this.

I would be happy if you could leave a review. Feel free to ask me questions or talk about anything (press the button in my bio)! Feel loved ♡

#kookochan #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook drabble #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenarios #jungkook oneshot #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #bts #bts x reader #bts au

532 notes · View notes