#I’m a big guy enjoyer
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Been thinking about Tozer and his friendship with heather a lot……..
#listen#I’m a big guy enjoyer#so everytime I draw Sol I need to hold myself back#my brain says ‘these men are starving in the artic they should look mangled by the time the mutiny happens’#the worms in my brain say ‘give him double D’s a little belly and a fat ass’#the terror#the terror amc#solomon tozer#froggerart
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I honestly sweat a little when people come over from my not shippy Eddsworld art, just to see I’m a basic bitch guy who likes when the blue one kisses the red one, and also likes TO kiss the eyebrows guy
#neil talky#My homies dont know I fw with this#except one homie but they’ve been here since the start that bro knows I’m Like This#Do you know how hard it is maintaining my irl persona???#People see me on the streets like oh yeah that guy’s A Guy#My siblings’ big bro in the eyes of their friends#Some crashed out dude buying soba at 1 am to convenience store employees#That one artist dude who seems to never sleep to my bosses#AND INSIDE IM AN EDDSWORLD YAOI ENJOYER DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT IS TO KEEP A STRAIGHT FACE#KNOWING THATS WHATS GOING ON IN MY HEAD#IM COOKED#AND IT HAD TO BE FUCKING EDDSWORLD??#I COULDNT HAVE BEEN A NORMAL FREAK AND LIKED ANIME YAOI AND YURI MORE???#I COULD HAVE BEEN A FUDANSHI/HIMEDANSHI??#BUT ITS A FUCKING SERIES FROM NG IM COOKED
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He could FOR SURE beat me up
#Yeah fellas like i said i’m a bioshock enjoyer now!!!#and i very much subscribe to the ‘jack has a southern accent’ philosophy#yeehaw big guy….yeehaw#also will probably be posting more bioshock content for those after it!!#been crafting up an au with a pal… oh boy…#ANYWAYS normal tags now#jack wynand#bioshock#jack bioshock
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HOLY SHIT FRAUD OF THE DEAD WAS SO GOOD
#sorry for no art recently i’m still super into the show i’ve just been busy w uni#and. splatoon big run i may have not left my flat the past weekend.#good news is i have a lot of ideas now ESPECIALLY since it’s been a while since i drew a good scene (no promises tho i’m flaky)#love the amazing rudy as much as the next guy but this might be my new fav of the season#i’m SORRY i’m a film production enjoyer i can’t help it this whole episode was just so well done#same writer as the spider house rules and loft in bedslation i’m not surprised it’s so good#rambles
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Been messing about trying to make an ordered discworld list based off of which books I liked best and it’s So Difficult,,
#I have way too many favourites#….#discworld#also I get the impression some of my opinions might differ from the general consensus??#I’m a big rincewind enjoyer#love to see that guy in situations#and then a lot of the city watch books take up some of my top spots#but then I didn’t really enjoy soul music moving pictures or mort very much#interestingly enough#who knows#maybe I’ll make some in depth opinion post sometime#rambles
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A lot of younger people have no idea what aging actually looks and feels like, and the reasons behind it. That ignorance is so dangerous. If you don’t want to “be old,” you aren’t talking about a number of years. I have patients in their late 80s who could still handily beat me in a race—one couple still runs marathons together, in their late 80s—and I lost someone who was in her early 60s to COPD last year. What you want is not youth, it is health.
If you want to still be able to enjoy doing things in your 60s and 70s and 80s and even 90s, what you want to do, right now, is quit smoking, get some activity on a regular basis (a couple of walks a week is WAY better for you than nothing; increasing from 1 hour a day of cardio to 1.5 will buy you very little), and eat some plants. That’s it. No magic to it. No secret weird tricks. Don’t poison yourself, move around so your body doesn’t forget how, and eat plants.
If you have trouble moving around now because of mobility limitations, bad news: you still need to move around, not because it’s immoral not to, but because that’s still the best advice we have. I highly recommend looking up the Sit and Be Fit series; it is freely available and has exercises that can be done in a chair, which are suitable for people with limited mobility or poor balance. POTS sufferers, I’m looking at you.
If you have trouble eating plants because of dietary issues (they cause gas, etc.) or just because they’re bitter (super taster with texture issues here!), bad news. You still want to find a way to get some plants into your body on a regular basis. I know. It sucks. The only way I can do it is restaurants—they can make salads taste like food. I can also tolerate some bagged salads. On bad weeks, the OCD with contamination focus gets so bad I just can’t. However, canned beans always seem “safe,” and they taste a bit like candy, so they’re a good fallback.
If you smoke and you have tried quitting a million times and you’re just not ready to, bad news. You still need to quit. Your body needs you to try and keep trying. Your brain needs it, too. Damaging small blood vessels racks up cumulative damage over time that your body can start trying to reverse as soon as you quit. I know it’s insanely, absurdly addictive. You still need to.
You cannot rules lawyer your way past your body’s basic needs. It needs food, sleep, activity, and the absence of poison. Those are both small things and big asks. You cannot sustain a routine based on punishment, so don’t punish your body. Find ways to include these things that are enjoyable and rewarding instead. Experiment. There is no reason not to experiment—you don’t have to know instantly what’s going to work for you and what won’t, you just need to be willing to try things and make changes when things aren’t working for you.
You will still age. Your body will stop making collagen and elastin. Tissues you can see and tissues you can’t see will both sag. Cushioning tissues under your skin will get thinner. You’ll bruise more easily. Skin will tear more easily. Accumulated sun damage will start to show more and more. Joints will begin to show arthritis. Tendons and ligaments will get weaker and get injured more easily, as will muscles. Bones will lose mass and get easier to break. You’ll get tired more easily.
But you know what makes the difference between being dead, or as good as, in your 60s vs your 90s? Activity, plants, and quitting smoking. And don’t do meth. Saw a 58-year-old guy this week who is going to have a heart attack if he doesn’t quit whatever stimulant he’s on. I pretended to believe it was just the cigarettes, and maybe it is, but meth and cocaine will kill you quicker. Stop poisoning yourself.
Baby steps; take it one step at a time; you don’t need to have everything figured out right now. But you do need to be working on figuring things out.
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learning the size of megazooplankton was so shocking until I remembered that it includes jellies💀
#spicy speaks#whoops!#I was out here imagining the tiny planktons being 200 cm#they’re jellies!!!#I forgot jellies are plankton!!!!!#silly old me#personally I’m a benthos enjoyer#very fun and slay little guys#but plankton are also fun and slay#as are nekton#I love everyone#I love all marine organisms big and small
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Chasing Cars | ch 8 (jjk)
☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?
☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)
☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff
☆warnings: peach, curses, luxury, impostor syndrome, alcohol, jungkook's family, they are so gone for each other my dude, explicit content: hickeys, dom!Jungkook, big dick!Jungkook, jerking off, oral sex (male receiving), exhibitionism (sort of but not really), protected sex, Jungkook is a teasing hoe, marking, ass slapping, praising, clit play
☆word count: 13.5k
☆a/n: NEW YOOOORK!!! My second favourite chapter of this series bc it's just so asjgsrjgsabfgo but I'll let you guys be the judge of that haha enjoy reading <3 and thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing, you're the best <3
☆series masterpost
☆add yourself to the taglist here!
☆☆☆☆☆
If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?
Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol
☆☆☆☆☆
Friday, March 8th
The sun is high in the sky, the snow melting on the side of the road, and Jungkook’s car is eating the miles towards New York, the music you’ve been listening to since you’ve left loud yet enjoyable.
Or maybe what’s truly enjoyable is the smile on Jungkook’s face whenever you meet his gaze while you’re bolting a duet, singing over the music.
Scratch that, you’ve been enjoying yourself because you’re with Jungkook. It doesn’t matter what you’d be doing - as long as it’s with Jungkook, you know you’d have fun. Even as his car slows down almost to a halt as you near the city and face its traffic, it doesn’t deter you.
No, Jungkook’s wide grin and his hand on your thigh keeps your mind far too occupied to be able to produce anything other than serotonin, and you think you deserve it. Especially after the uncertainty of the last few weeks, you deserve this moment with Jungkook.
This moment, away from reminders of Taehyung and of how you know this relationship is bound to explode in your face one day.
You shove that thought away as Jungkook’s giggle fills the car, and you glance at him, smiling brightly.
“You’re not really going to put some Taylor Swift on,” Jungkook complains, yet it’s at odds with the amused light in his eyes.
“I sure am,” you reply, and the song Welcome to New York starts playing.
You know it by heart, and Jungkook watches you in awe as you sing. If you weren’t rational, you’d assume he’s looking at you with heart-shaped eyes, but you know better than that.
You’re just his fake girlfriend for the weekend. Nothing more.
Nothing more than the fact that you will meet his entire family, including his extended family, tomorrow. He doesn’t seem like he cares, and you’ve been trying to pretend that you don’t care either, but it is making you feel anxious.
You’ve never had a boyfriend that you’ve met the family of before. Or actually, you’ve never had a boyfriend whatsoever.
Jungkook knows his way in the city. You’re not surprised - he grew up here, and he told you he usually spends his summers back home as well to work and make enough money for the year. What you’re surprised about is that the streets down which he starts driving once you’re passed the traffic and into the city proper look expensive, exuding wealth that you could only ever wish to know.
It only increases when he parks his car in the underground parking garage of a huge skyscraper which apparently holds condos and the like.
At least that’s what he says.
“Leave your bag in the car,” Jungkook tells you as you’re about to fetch your duffel bag from the backseat.
You cock an eyebrow in question. “Aren’t we here?”
He smiles mischievously, eyes shining in the white neon light of the underground garage. “I’m taking you shopping.”
“Why?” you burst out, looking down at yourself. “Are my clothes not good enough?”
He walks around the car, pulling you away from the car door by the hand before he shuts it behind you, leaning against it.
“Trust me, peach, your clothes are perfect for me,” he says. “But I much prefer you without the clothes on.”
He winks, and you punch him in the shoulder, cheeks flaming.
“You’re insufferable,” you grumble.
“You like it.”
“I don’t.”
He smiles as you fake-glare at him, until you both start laughing. He extends a hand for you to take, and you let him engulf your small hand with his large one as he pulls you towards the elevator.
“Seriously though, I’ll get you a nice dress for tomorrow night,” Jungkook says as you reach the elevator, and he presses the call button. “Not that I don’t trust what you’ve brought,” he quickly adds before you could say anything. “More as a thank you for doing this for me.”
You narrow your eyes at him, yet you nod your head. Because who would say no to free clothes?
Certainly not you.
Jungkook pulls you behind him in the elevator when the doors slide open, and then presses on the ground floor. Once you get off, he’s quick to guide you down a hallway that looks straight out of a fancy hotel - marble floors reflecting the light of the sconces on the walls, abstract paintings at regular intervals on the wall to the left, over dark oak tables with white flowers in crystal vases.
The hallway even smells expensive, and you throw a curious glance to Jungkook.
“Where are we?” you ask, unable to help yourself.
He glances at you over his shoulder, winking at you. “Home.”
“This is what you call home?” you ask, thinking about the small apartment you grew up in on the poor side of the city you hail from.
He shrugs. “I feel more at home back in college, but yeah, I grew up here.”
“Jungkook,” you say, tugging on his hand to stop him, but he’s determined, his steps unfaltering.
You grumble under your breath, yet you follow him out into the early evening setting sun, the doors of the building golden. You don’t ask the questions that are burning in your mind - what do his parents do for a living? Why didn’t he mention he was rich?
Why does he live in that small, old apartment with you and Taehyung if he can afford so much more?
The questions spin in your head like they are a tornado of thoughts, and they only increase in speed as he pulls you to an Yves Saint Laurent store, pushing the door open as if he owns the place.
Could he…?
“Jeon Jungkook!” a middle-aged lady greets him, her face lighting up as you come into view. “We haven’t seen you in ages.”
“Hey, Mrs Smith,” Jungkook answers. “Meet my girlfriend.”
He tugs on your hand, forcing you to step out from behind him, and you blush as the lady appears. She’s tall, though you believe it might be because she’s wearing stilettos, and her skirt and blazer combo makes her look like a businesswoman.
The nametag on the blazer is a clear indication that she isn’t, though. No, she visibly works here.
“Hello,” you awkwardly say, not knowing what else to say as she looks you up and down.
“Are you here for a new wardrobe?” she asks, the question directed towards Jungkook as if what you’re wearing is the ugliest outfit anyone has ever come up with before.
You try to not take offense, yet you find yourself momentarily clenching your jaw as Jungkook replies, “No, just for a dress for Junghyun’s engagement party.”
Mrs Smith nods, and she motions towards what looks like a small scene in front of multiple mirrors. It’s the kind of thing you’ve seen before in period pieces, where the seamstresses take the ladies’ measurement. So you’re not entirely surprised when Mrs Smith pulls out a measuring tape from a hidden pocket in her blazer, and you let her do her work, your eyes on Jungkook as he watches with an amused smile on his lips.
“You could have warned me,” you say, and Mrs Smith looks up towards you, the frown on her features convincing you to shut up until she’s done.
Jungkook only laughs, saying, “I’ve got a lot to tell you.”
He does. He certainly does, and though it’s pissing you off, there’s something endearing about the way he’s watching from that couch, the small smile on his lips softening his features.
You fall silent as Mrs Smith keeps working, and soon she’s sauntering off, the sound of her stilettos click-clacking slowly fading. You immediately climb off from the little scene, storming towards Jungkook.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were rich?” you ask.
He shrugs. “Does it change anything?”
“It doesn’t.” You look around, not quite believing that you’re standing in a designer store. “But then it does.”
He pouts, the expression so adorable you feel like leaning in and kissing him. It’s startling, and before you can do anything, Mrs Smith comes back with a light blue dress she wants you to try on. You follow the lady to the dressing room, and Jungkook offers you a wink as you glance at him over your shoulder.
Mrs Smith leads you into the room, and it’s way too large for just a dressing room. She leaves the dress on a hook against a wall, in front of a tall standing mirror, and you thank her as she gets out, gently shutting the door behind her.
Which leaves you alone with your thoughts, and with the fact that Jungkook wants to buy you a designer dress.
You take a look at the dress. It’s beautiful, the colour eerily similar to that of a summer sky, yet maybe somewhat a little paler. You step towards it, searching for a tag, but you can’t find any. The softness of the fabric is a clear indication that it is probably worth more than everything you own combined together, and you anxiously take off your clothes to put it on.
One look in the mirror makes you feel like a princess. Like you’re the one someone might write a story about, or sing a song to. Even though your hair is a mess and you’re not wearing any makeup, you feel more beautiful than you’ve ever felt before.
The dress hugs your curves perfectly, enhancing them in all the right places. It looks like it was tailor-made for you, and for a moment you believe you’re in love.
You really do think you’re in love when you shyly step out of the dressing room for Mrs Smith to finish zipping the dress up, and Jungkook looks up from his phone to look at you.
The smirk on his lips slowly dies down, and his gaze doesn’t move from you as you step closer. You don’t think he’s blinking, or even breathing, and you truly feel like the most beautiful woman in the world right now.
“Do you like the dress?” a female voice to your left says, but you can’t look away from Jungkook.
You’re entranced, and it seems that he is too. Like you’re the center of the universe, or maybe that’s him - it’s hard to tell.
“We’ll take it,” Jungkook says after a moment, and he gets up.
Towering over you, he tilts your head back with a finger on your chin, and you gulp as your gazes connect.
“On the family tab?” Mrs Smith asks.
“Yes.”
“How much is the dress?” you can’t help but query, turning your head towards Mrs Smith.
She regards you with an eyebrow cocked, before glancing at Jungkook. “10,350 dollars, miss.”
Your mouth falls open as she walks away, and you immediately look back towards Jungkook.
“No,” is all that you say.
He flicks your nose. “Don’t cause a scene, peach.”
“I’m not causing a scene,” you say through gritted teeth. “This dress is worth more than a year of my share of the rent.”
“And? Your point?”
You roll your eyes, folding your arms on your chest. “I’m not letting you buy this.”
“Well too bad for you, it’s already paid for.”
He winks at you again, and then plops back down on the couch, his smirk widening into a grin that makes butterflies come to life in your stomach.
It’s a feeling you don’t like, so you turn your back on him, heading back to the dressing room. With new respect for the dress, you slowly take it off, treating it reverently. Once it’s safely back on the hanger, you put your clothes back on, hands shaking a little at the enormity of what Jungkook just did.
Though, to him, it doesn’t seem like it was a lot. Indeed, when you get out of the dressing room, leaving the dress behind because you don’t dare touch it again, Jungkook springs up from the couch, offering you his hand.
And even though you feel like maybe you don’t really know anything about him, you take his hand. His fingers close around yours, gently, and he offers you a smile that makes you warm like spring days, when the world is coming back to life.
And as you walk behind him, you think maybe, maybe this weekend is a great opportunity to get to know him better. To get to know the man that hides behind the cocky behaviour, the one you’ve seen on multiple occasions already.
Though it should scare you, the thought only makes you hold onto Jungkook’s fingers a little tighter. He reciprocates, and it’s with a heart beating wildly that he waits with you for Mrs Smith to bring the dress over, safely hidden in a dress bag. Jungkook takes it for you, and then he pulls you behind him.
You’re soon swallowed by the New York city bustling crowd, though Jungkook is a lighthouse in the storm and you feel safe.
You feel safe with him, and that, more than anything, scares you.
*****
“You’re shitting me,” is all you say when Jungkook leads you into his room, once you’re back at the condominium in which he grew up.
You’d gathered enough information to know that he was rich. But you didn’t think he was rich rich - the condo he grew up in is on the two highest levels of the skyscraper, with an unparalleled view of Central Park that’s making you feel like you’re a bird soaring in the sky.
Jungkook laughs behind you as he shuts the door, dropping your duffel bag and his next to it. You’ve been carrying the dress up, treating it like the treasure that it is, and Jungkook gently takes it from your hand as he walks away, disappearing in what you can only assume is his walk-in wardrobe.
He pops back out a few seconds later, minus the dress bag, and he offers you a smile that’s even more blinding than the city view. “No, I’m not,” he says.
You chuckle, cheeks burning for a reason you don’t quite understand, and then you scan his room. It’s cold, empty, void of the quality that makes his room back at the apartment feel like his. This room is impersonal, the kind of room you’d see in interior design magazines, with the black bed covers and equally as dark walls. Light comes from behind the bed frame, yet the true beauty of the room is that of the city, and you take it in as you step closer to the floor-to-ceiling window that is the wall at the foot of the bed.
“I can’t believe it,” you murmur. “This is so beautiful.”
“It is, isn’t it?”
You slowly nod, glancing towards Jungkook. “I can’t believe you chose to live in that shitty apartment with Tae when this is what you were accustomed to.”
He shrugs, not answering anything, as he instead heads to where he left the duffel bags so that he can carry them into the walk-in. You follow him then, curious to see what the rest of his bedroom looks like.
The walk-in is empty, save for a corner that holds a couple of suits you imagine to be from different designer brands. You notice a few dress shirts over there too, but your gaze focuses on the PC setup that’s in between two walls of shelves.
Finally, something that feels like Jungkook.
You walk towards it, rolling the chair back so that you can sit in it. Jungkook drops your duffel bag on the shelf behind you, and you turn your chair so that you can face him.
“You want to play?” he asks.
“What games do you have?”
He leans towards you, and you catch a whiff of his cologne as he turns the PC on.
“Honestly I don’t remember what’s downloaded on the PC,” he truthfully replies. “Just check out my Steam account.”
And then he’s walking towards the other side of the walk-in, heading towards what you can only assume is the bathroom. You spring up from the chair, and it rolls behind you from the sudden motion as you jog to the bathroom.
You’re not surprised to see just how expensive the bathroom looks. Black tiles cover the floor, and they climb the walls of the walk-in shower next to which a wide-standing cabinet with glass doors is. A proper look at the shower shows that it’s one with multiple shower heads, and you already know the shower you’ll take later will be heavenly, clearly the best you’ll ever take in your life. Jungkook leans on the counter, folding his arm on his chest as he watches you taking everything in, your gaze wide from awe.
“You don’t even have a bath,” you comment, and Jungkook bursts out laughing.
“I never needed one. But if you want to take a bath, there’s one in the bigger bathroom on this level.”
“Isn’t it connected to like… your parents’ room or something?” you ask.
He shrugs. “Yeah, but my parents haven’t stayed here since I was five,” he reveals. “They prefer staying at hotels.”
You furrow your brow. “They have such a nice condo and they don’t even enjoy it?”
Another shrug of Jungkook tells you that he, too, doesn’t understand his parents.
“If you want, I can give you a tour of the whole place,” Jungkook suggests after a beat of silence.
Your eyes light up, and you nod forcefully. “Yes. Please, I’d love to.”
He laughs at your enthusiasm, before motioning towards the toilet. “I do have to go to the bathroom first, if you’ll excuse me.”
Cheeks burning, you mumble an apology that makes him laugh as you step out of the bathroom, and he gently closes the door behind you. Embarrassed, you make your way back to the gaming setup, and you watch the landscape picture of the welcome screen. Pressing on enter reveals that Jungkook doesn’t have a password for the computer, and a moment later his Steam library appears in front of your eyes.
Obviously he’s got every game you can imagine, and you don’t have time to go through the whole library before he’s out, ready to give you the tour. And the rest of the condo is just as impressive as Jungkook’s bedroom is, though the whole thing feels… empty. Void of life. Which, you assume it is considering his parents don’t live here most of the time, and his brother owns a city house with his fiancée.
Your favourite part ends up being the kitchen, even though you don’t cook. But who wouldn’t like the beauty of the marble counters, of the white cupboards and of the impressive glass chandelier that hangs over the long dinner table?
You end up sitting on a stool at the island, watching Jungkook as he moves through the kitchen. He finds instant noodles in the pantry, and he comes out of it with a wide grin on his lips.
“Found dinner,” he says.
You laugh. “You’ve got such a nice kitchen and all you’ll cook are some instant noodles?”
He narrows his gaze at you. “You have a problem against instant noodles?”
You snort, shrugging your shoulders. “No.”
He doesn’t seem convinced, but he drops it, focusing on making food for the two of you. It takes a few minutes, but he’s soon sitting next to you, two bowls of noodles wafting steam in front of you. It smells good, if not a bit spicy, and you grab the chopsticks he put out for you.
“Thanks for the food,” you tell him, flashing a grin to him that makes his features soften in a far too dangerous way for you.
So you look away, cheeks dusting in pink, and you start eating. Though the noodles are indeed spicy, you endure the burn, finding that you actually enjoy it a little bit. Maybe because it’s distracting you from the thought that you’re with your brother’s best friend - you ought to stop thinking about it anyway.
Here, Jungkook isn’t Taehyung’s best friend. Here, he’s just Jungkook, and you’re just you.
Saturday March 9th
You feel like an impostor.
The venue for the engagement party is luxurious, nestled on the top floors of one of the many skyscrapers of Manhattan. The people in attendance are all dressed to the nines, as if trying to impress.
Or you’re just impressed because you’ve never seen so many designer clothes in such a place before.
The floor is made of shiny marble, the ceiling high. A huge, glass chandelier hangs from it, and multiple columns are decorated with shiny golden garlands. In one corner, in front of tall windows overlooking New York City, a photobooth is set up, but you’ve remained clear of it so far.
You and Jungkook are both aware that you can’t risk having pictures of you taken. Not when they could easily be found by Taehyung, or by other people from back at college.
Like Ria, who questioned you for hours when you said you were going to spend the weekend in New York…
You know you’ll be grilled when you get home, but you push that thought aside, much like you’ve been putting all thoughts of your regular life aside. Jungkook has been making it easy - his smile and laughter, ever so constant yesterday evening, has been grounding, and though he does seem anxious right now, he’s remained by your side, making sure to put you at ease.
You haven’t met his parents or brother yet, but he’s introduced to some cousins that approached you, some of them surprisingly only speaking Korean. Jungkook bridged the gap between you and them, translating when needed, and they have now moved to the refreshment table, adorned with a pyramid of champagne glasses you’ve imagined toppling over at least fifteen times since you’ve arrived.
You really do feel like an impostor at the sight of all the easy luxury. Of the Louboutin high heels, the Louis Vuitton purses, the expensive suits and dresses everyone is wearing. The vast room smells rich, and it truly isn’t your crowd.
“Smile, peach,” Jungkook says, nudging you with his elbow.
Your gaze slides to him, and as it’s been doing since you finished getting ready earlier, your breath catches in your throat. There’s just something about the pale pants and the light blue dress shirt he’s wearing that makes him seem even more attractive than you’ve always found him. Maybe it’s the way the fabric stretches on his chest, revealing his hard-earned muscles. Or maybe it’s the vulnerability in his gaze.
He doesn’t seem more comfortable than you in this crowd.
“You smile,” you throw back at him, and he immediately does, a low laugh shaking through him.
“Do you want something to drink?”
You look down at yourself, wincing. “I’m afraid I’ll ruin the dress.”
“So you’re just going to stand still the whole evening because you’re afraid to ruin your clothes?” he teases.
You clench your jaw, rolling your eyes. “Precisely.”
“Loosen up, peach,” Jungkook insists, and there’s something in the way he says it that makes you think maybe he needs you to.
Maybe he truly does need your support at this fancy party. So you find yourself accepting to get drinks, and you’re almost done with the first glass when Jungkook tenses next to you, freezing like a deer in headlights.
His doe eyes are on the doors, and you look in the direction to see an older woman and man walking in, the woman’s hand on her husband’s arm. You see a little bit of Jungkook in them - the woman’s eyes are Jungkook’s, and the man has the same nose and lips - so you immediately know that they are Jungkook’s parents.
The woman scans the room, and her eyes stop on you. In the distance it’s hard to tell if she looks happy to see her son - she barely even reacts, though she tugs her husband in your direction. You glance to Jungkook, but he really does seem frozen.
“Are you okay?” you ask, resting a hand on his arm.
He startles, toying with his piercings with his tongue before nodding curtly. “All good.”
You look towards his parents, and they’ve already crossed half of the room.
“Is that…” you trail off, knowing how rhetorical the question is.
“Yep.”
“What should I do?” you ask, tugging on his arm.
His eyes snap to you, and they’re void of the warmth you usually recognize in them. They’re like chips of ice - empty, cold, and something aches in your chest.
“Just be yourself.”
You offer him a small smile. His gaze is quick to drop to it, and you see the moment it warms. You see the moment he realizes he’s not alone, not right now, even though this is all but a subterfuge.
You’re not his girlfriend, but you’ll sure as hell try to be the best friend you can be for him right now.
“Jungkook,” his mother says as she stops in front of you, and your gaze slides to her.
She looks regal, standing ramrod straight with a steely look on her face. She spares you a quick glance, cocking an eyebrow before resuming her attention on Jungkook.
“Mother,” Jungkook replies in the same cold, formal tone.
“Glad to see you came around and decided to come.”
Jungkook doesn’t reply, but he wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer. “I wanted to introduce Y/n to the family.”
Heart beating out of your chest, you look up to Jungkook, observing the firm set of his jaw. He seems determined, like a man going into battle, and you wonder if that is what it is.
If Jungkook brought you here to rile his family up.
His mother finally truly takes you in, her eyes skimming over you. “I don’t think we know each other,” she says, and there is so much contempt in her voice you furrow your brow.
“I don’t think so,” you answer, trying to sound as polite as you possibly can. You bow your head, meeting her gaze when you straighten. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Jungkook’s father pats his wife’s hand. She lets him go, almost reluctantly, and he walks away, heading to a group of men that seem far too happy to see him.
You wonder if you should take offence to him walking away when you just tried to introduce yourself, though the way Jungkook is staring at his mother lets you know that the true opponent of this battle is the woman in front of you, and not the man that just left.
“Likewise,” she replies, and this time she doesn’t hide the contempt from her voice at all. It drips to her features, and she scrunches up her nose in disgust, looking down at the high heels you’re wearing.
A simple pair of high heels you’ve bought for your high school prom, that you’ve been reusing whenever you have the occasion.
“Nice shoes,” Jungkook’s mother says, and you can tell that she means it as an insult.
You clench your jaw, cocking an eyebrow as you get ready to reply, but Jungkook intervenes with a stern, “Mother.”
“You thought dressing her up in a nice dress would make us forget that she’s not from our class?”
The insult is stark, and you widen your gaze as your heart rate spikes, your blood heating up in your veins.
“Excuse me?” you let out, unable to resist.
Jungkook’s mother meets your gaze. “At least she’s got a tongue on her.”
“And I’ll ask you to make a fucking effort for once,” Jungkook spits.
She frowns. “Do not curse, boy. It doesn’t suit you.”
He laughs, a short, dry sound that makes the hair dress on your arms. She clenches her jaw, a muscle feathering under the skin, and you wonder where Jungkook learned to be warm. Where he learned to smile like he’s lighter than a feather, like he’s never known any atrocities. Because standing here, you realize just how cold his upbringing must have been like.
And it’s strange. The little boy in the picture on his bedside table was all smiles, eyes crinkling with joy. You’d assumed the picture had been taken by his parents, but now that you’ve met his mother, you highly doubt she’s ever been the source of a smile on Jungkook’s lips.
While you’ve been thinking, Jungkook and his mother were stuck in a staring contest, a battle of will that Jungkook wins. Indeed, his mother sighs deeply and then turns towards you again.
“Where do you come from?” she asks.
You gulp under the scrutiny of her gaze, yet give her the answer.
“What do your parents do for a living?”
You tense, for that is an answer that even Jungkook doesn’t know.
“My mother is a nurse,” you reply. You feel Jungkook’s curious gaze on your profile, but you resist glancing at him. “And I do not know my father.”
Jungkook’s mother blinks once, and then she focuses on her son. “Junghyun will be happy you came.”
She leaves without saying another word, and you’re left staring at her retreating form, wondering if it’s just you or if she’s the rudest person you’ve ever met.
“I apologize for this,” Jungkook says, and his arm drops from your shoulder.
You immediately miss it.
“I think I’m starting to get why you wanted me to come with you,” you say, and you finally meet his gaze.
He’s slightly pouting, lips barely jutting out, yet there’s something endearing about the expression on his features. “I honestly didn’t think she would be flat-out rude like that.” He downs what’s left of the champagne in his flute and then puts it down on the tray of a server as she walks past. “I promise we can go home as soon as Junghyun shows up and sees that I came.”
“We can stay longer too,” you reassure him. “I can handle the aristocracy.”
The frown on his features melts, and he lets out a small laugh. “The aristocracy?”
You nod. “Yeah. Because obviously we aren’t from the same class.”
“Fuck, peach,” he grumbles, shaking his head, yet there’s an amused sparkle in his gaze that makes you feel warm all of a sudden.
It’s like you forget all about his mother, and about his avoidant father. It soon becomes clear that he is avoiding Jungkook, not you, and you feel bad for the man beside you.
He deserves a family that treats him better than the one he has, or so you believe. And it’s not like you know them at all - the dynamic is just off, and it’s unlike what you’ve personally known growing up.
If you forget about the fact that you don’t have a father and that your mother worked so much while you were growing up that you barely saw her.
Junghyun and his fiancée show up an hour later, fashionably late. You and Jungkook have been drinking more, and you feel buzzed from the alcohol, warmth swimming through your body. It’s only amplified every time you meet Jungkook’s gaze, every time he tugs you a little closer, and you think you’ll be drunk by the end of the evening, just because of him.
He’s inebriating after all.
Junghyun notices his brother across the space, and unlike his parents, his face breaks into a large grin, one that resembles that of Jungkook, and he immediately makes his way towards you. He’s much more relaxed than his parents, with an easy going vibe to him, and the way Jungkook relaxes makes you think that Junghyun, contrary to his parents, is not an asshole.
“You didn’t tell me you were coming,” Junghyun says as he stops in front of you, immediately pulling Jungkook into a tight embrace.
Jungkook beams under the attention of his older brother. “I thought it’d be a good surprise.”
“It sure is,” Junghyun agrees as he pulls away. His eyes slide to you, and you offer him a tentative smile that he easily reciprocates. “And you are?”
“My girlfriend,” Jungkook says before you have time to say your name. “From college.”
Junghyun nods, meeting your gaze again. “Nice to meet you.”
You echo the sentiment as his fiancée - Nara - stops next to Junghyun, politely greeting Jungkook.
You end up speaking with the pair for a little while. They both are a lot more welcoming than Jungkook’s parents, and Jungkook seems to be vibrating with happiness by the time they have to move away, needing to greet the other guests in the room. Meanwhile the sun has set outside, and you take a moment to admire the view as Jungkook goes to grab a refill for you both.
“I must admit he has a lot of nerves to bring you here,” a voice says next to you, and you turn to notice his mother, her arms folded on her chest.
Though your heart skips a painful, anxious beat in your chest, you only face the world outside again. “And why is that?”
She scoffs. “He’s technically engaged to someone.”
The world stops turning, and you glance at his mother. She sports a small, wicked smile, like she knows Jungkook didn’t tell you.
“What do you mean?” you can’t help but ask, your hands turning clammy.
She shrugs. “His father and I have discussed it with another family. We’ve deemed it better if they marry.”
“Does he even know her?” you spit.
She chuckles condescendingly. “Look at you. You really think you fit in our world? Your mother clearly hasn’t raised you for it.”
You fully face Jungkook’s mother, nails digging in your palms as you clench your fists. “I’ll have you know that my mother raised me well, and raised me to know privilege where it is. Just because you happened to be born rich doesn’t make you any better.”
Her gaze widens, and you see Jungkook walking back towards you, two glasses of champagne in hands. He notices his mother, a muscle feathering under the skin of his jaw, and you don’t care to stay next to her before you start heading his way.
You meet in the middle of the room, and you wonder if your vision has grown blurry. You only understand your eyes have filled with tears when Jungkook curses under his breath, glaring at his mother over your head.
“What did she tell you?” he asks, voice gentle.
You shrug. “Nothing,” you lie, blinking the tears away.
But she didn’t tell you nothing, did she?
“I’m really sorry,” he apologizes. “She’s…”
“It’s whatever,” you insist, interrupting him. “I just want to spend time with you.”
You just want to spend time with him because you’ve learned he’s technically engaged, if his mother wasn’t lying.
Does he even know it?
You successfully blink your tears away as Jungkook hands you a champagne glass, which you down in one long gulp.
“I’m flattered, peach,” he teases.
The champagne bubbles down your throat, and you swallow with a scrunch of your nose. When you’ve finished the glass, you hand it back to Jungkook, who takes it with one eyebrow cocked. He looks like he wants to say something, but then his brother starts to speak with a mic. The room ushers to silence, forcing everyone to listen to the speech. Jungkook’s frowning, eyes still on you, but after a few seconds he turns to look at his brother.
You wish you’d be able to listen to the speech, to focus on it, but all you can do is keep on blinking back the tears from snapping at Jungkook’s mother.
Here’s to making bad first impressions.
And it’s not like it truly matters - you’re not even Jungkook’s real girlfriend. You’re just a friend, someone he brought along as a shield from his family.
Or so you’re starting to realize. You can’t even blame him. If your mother was remotely similar to his, you’d always make sure to go home with someone to support you.
The least you can do is be that for Jungkook.
When Junghyun finishes his speech, his fiancée moves closer to him, and they share a sweet embrace that looks a little too practiced for it to be genuine. Or it might just be you - if it had been you in their position, you’re pretty sure you would have wanted to kiss your fiancé stupid. But then again, you reckon it might be improper in this social class.
Jungkook’s mother might have a point - you really weren’t raised to know how to act around rich people.
Except Jungkook, that is, but that’s because you didn’t know he was rich before yesterday, and you doubt he cares anyway.
“Are you hungry?” Jungkook asks as servers start walking around with different appetizers, all of them looking far fancier than anything you’ve eaten in your life.
“Huh,” you let out as one of the servers stops next to you. “What’s this?”
“Crab cakes,” the server answers, flashing you a quick, polite smile.
You glance at Jungkook. “I’m allergic to seafood.”
He snorts, and then wraps an arm around your shoulder. “Let’s go find something that doesn’t have seafood in it.”
You end up finding small vegetarian burgers, and though they are barely bite-size, you enjoy a couple of them despite their dryness. It’s not enough to satiate your hunger, and especially not enough for Jungkook, so when he suggests going out to a restaurant nearby, you jump on the occasion to say yes.
“Then wait for me here,” Jungkook indicates, and to your surprise he kisses your forehead before slipping away, heading towards where you can see his brother and father conversing. While he speaks to them, probably explaining that you’re going to go eat somewhere else, you admire the view again. Cars zoom down in the streets below, each and every one of them carrying a different person with their own little life.
You feel small so high over the city. It’s sobering, and you feel like your mind is clearing from the buzz of the alcohol, from the remnants of the guilt you had for snapping at Jungkook’s mother.
You glance over your shoulder, eyeing Jungkook as he stands as if frozen, his brother speaking in his ear. Junghyun slides his gaze to you, and you offer him a tentative smile that the man ignores. You’d even think that his eyes harden, but it’s hard to tell in the distance. Especially as he pulls away from Jungkook, claps his shoulder once and then walks away, his father in tow.
Jungkook doesn’t move for a few seconds, and you wonder what it is that Junghyun said. Because the moment Jungkook turns and you see the look on his face, you know it must have been something harsh.
Jungkook looks like he wants to cry. It’s so vulnerable, so different from his usual cocky persona that you immediately make your way towards him.
“Are you okay?” you ask.
Jungkook just blinks looking at you, his eyes shining from unshed tears. You grab his hand, squeezing once, forgetting all about his mother being an asshole to you. No, all there is right now is Jungkook, and you want to make sure he finishes this evening with a smile on his face.
He deserves it after all.
“Hey, so where’s that restaurant you mentioned?” you query, switching tactics.
Jungkook keeps looking at you for a few seconds, but he soon blinks a couple of times more, taking a deep breath. “Let’s go.”
He pulls you behind him in the crowd, and you don’t know what look he has on his face, but people literally jump out of the way. He’s walking quickly, and you struggle to follow him, but you know he needs to leave.
You’ve seen the sorrow in his gaze, and you don’t blame him for wanting to get away. Indeed, you just want to flee in the night too, and you’re thankful the moment the elevator doors slide to a close after you’ve retrieved your coats, and you’re finally left in a quiet silence of just you and him.
Jungkook looks at you, gaze heavy, and a second later he’s on you, hands cupping your cheeks as he backs you into the wall. You startle, yet you’re quick to melt in his touch, to kiss him back with the same intensity he offers you.
His tongue swipes at your bottom lip, and you let him in, moaning softly as he drives his knee between your legs.
You didn’t expect him to kiss you. Especially not when nothing happened last night, some sort of awkwardness lingering in the air from being in his childhood room. But he kisses you languidly, all tongue and lips, his piercings pressing indents in your lower lip, and warmth pools at your core as the elevator goes down and down.
Anyone could walk in and catch you kissing, yet it doesn’t deter Jungkook, and neither does it deter you. Indeed, it only spurs you more, and your hands drop to his waist so that you can pull him closer.
The moment ends when the door slides open to reveal the ground floor, and Jungkook steps away from you, eyes dark with lust and shadows you don’t want to interpret. He smooths his shirt, offers you a tight-lipped smile that makes your heart clench in your chest, and then he’s walking out.
You’re quick to follow him, cheeks burning as someone at the reception eyes the two of you. You ignore them, hoping they can’t see how your lips are swollen from the kiss, and you all but have to jog to catch up with Jungkook by the time he reaches the doors.
He holds it open for you, yet you can’t meet his gaze as you step outside. Not when the engagement party was such a shitshow, not after he kissed you like that only to leave without saying anything.
The bustle of the New York City life engulfs you as you step out on the street, Jungkook in tow. To your surprise, his large hands close around yours, and you glance up to meet his gaze.
“I’m sorry about…” he trails off, motioning over his shoulder.
You purse your lips. “About kissing me?”
The shadows partially lift in his gaze, warmth replacing them. “I’m not sorry about that at all,” he teases. “But I meant, about my family.”
“Don’t worry about it,” you reassure him, squeezing his hand. “I’m happy I could be there with you.”
He remains silent for a few seconds of you holding each other’s gaze on the sidewalk, and then he cracks a smile, though it doesn’t entirely reach his eyes. “What would I do without you, mmh?”
You laugh, and it sounds truer than it feels. “What would you do indeed?” you tease.
He chuckles, pulling you closer so that he can hug you. You wonder who needs it the most - him, or you? Because the second his arms wrap around you, you snake yours around his waist, hiding your face in his chest. He smells good - like Dior Sauvage, you think - and for a moment you just want to stay right here, in his arms.
Until his stomach grumbles, a low rumble against your cheek that makes you burst out laughing.
“Someone’s hungry,” you tease, looking up at him.
He meets your gaze, nodding once. “Peach, I’m fucking starving.”
That makes you laugh even more, lifting the heaviness of the atmosphere somehow, and it’s with a smile tickling your lips that you make your way to the restaurant - a kebab place on the first floor of another skyscraper. You eat your fill, laughing around with Jungkook, doing your best to keep the shadows out of his gaze.
But they never fully lift, and you’re not close enough to him to ask what his brother told him that upset him so much.
Mostly, you’re not close enough to ask him if he’s truly supposed to marry someone, or if his mother just said that to scare you off. It’s like walking a tightrope, and you’re one wrong move from falling to your death.
Yesterday, you would have said that Jungkook would catch you but today, the haunted look that creeps up on his gaze once in a while makes you think that perhaps he wouldn’t catch you at all. And though it saddens you, you don’t say anything.
You’ll have a better occasion later.
At least that’s what you tell yourself as Jungkook loosely holds your hand after the restaurant, while you walk around aimlessly. He’s telling you stories about growing up, and if it wasn’t for the fact that he occasionally falls eerily silent, you’d think that he’s happy right now. He looks the part, beaming at you whenever your gazes connect, and it’s too easy to reciprocate.
You think it’s a good thing - you’re comfortable with Jungkook, even if the whole engagement party was weird. It only gets better when you near a club, and Jungkook stops with a mischievous look in his eyes that finally looks a lot more like the Jungkook that you know from college.
“Do you want to go clubbing?” he says.
You snort. “It’s not even nine pm.”
“And?” he presses.
“You want to go clubbing this early?”
He shrugs, grabbing your hand again to pull you towards the doorman. “We can sit and chat before the party starts.”
As a matter of fact, the party is already started inside the club. Indeed, it’s like you step in an alternate universe the moment you walk in, the crowd thick as they sway to the beat. You only understand that it’s a concert of some famous DJ when you’re stopped at the coat check because you don’t have any tickets.
To your luck, the girl informs you that there are a few tickets left, and you insist on paying since Jungkook bought you the overpriced dress you’re wearing.
The one you’ll likely ruin while partying.
The thought sobers you a little, up until Jungkook, buzzing with excitement, pulls you towards the bar after you’ve left your coats at the coat check.
“This is going to be fun,” he says over the loud music.
You nod, though your mind is lingering somewhere back at the engagement party. “Are you okay?” you can’t help but ask.
Jungkook falls serious, clenching his jaw once. “It’s about my family, isn’t it?”
“Yes and no,” you say, worrying at some dry skin on your bottom lip. “I just want to make sure you’re okay. Tonight has been… weird.”
It’s unfortunately your turn to order, as the barman stops in front of you, and Jungkook quickly orders two gin and tonic for you both before resuming his attention on you.
“I know,” he agrees. “Family events are always weird around here.” He winces, shrugging his shoulders. “And if you want to speak about it, we can tomorrow. But right now I really just want to have a nice evening with you.”
He looks hopeful, lips jutting out in the trace of a pout, and his doe eyes hold so much softness you find yourself folding immediately.
He’s right - you want to have a nice evening with him too, and forget the shitshow that the engagement party was.
“Well then,” you say, offering him a corner smile that hints at mischief. “I hope you’re ready to party.”
He brightens, like the stars shining when there’s no light pollution. “Damn right, peach.”
The barman puts your drinks on the bar, and Jungkook hands you your glass. You grab the lime on the rim of the glass, squeezing it in the drink properly before dropping it amongst the ice cubes. Jungkook watches you, mirroring you after a few seconds.
“To partying,” you say, raising your glass.
Jungkook echoes, clinking his glass with yours and you both drink, the alcohol fresh and cold on your tongue.
You linger by the bar long enough to finish your first drinks, talking about everything and nothing. By the time you’re taking your last sip, Jungkook is reminiscing about a party last semester, where Taehyung had tried hitting on a girl only to get rejected.
“He complained about it for weeks,” you remember. “Even though he was sleeping with…” You frown, unable to remember the girl’s name. “Honestly, I don’t know.”
Jungkook laughs. “Tae fucks around too much to remember everyone, I know.”
“As if you’re any better,” you tease, pushing him playfully.
He pouts, eyebrows bunching together as his doe eyes narrow. “I’m better now.”
“Are you?”
He moves closer to you, and your heart trips on itself in your chest as he rests his large hand on your waist, pulling you closer. “I definitely am.”
You don’t know who makes the move first. You just know that a second later, you’re cupping Jungkook’s cheeks, and his lips are on yours again. This time, he tastes of gin and lime, and a swipe of his tongue on your lower lip makes you sigh, your hands sliding to the back of his head to get lost in his soft hair. His hand rests flat on your back, as if to keep you from stepping away.
Like you would.
You don’t ever want to step away from Jungkook. Tonight, you think it doesn’t matter that he’s Taehyung’s best friend. It doesn’t matter that he is supposedly engaged to someone else. Right now, it feels like he’s yours - you’re foolish enough to believe that he is.
“Let’s dance,” Jungkook murmurs against your lips when he pulls away, his forehead resting against yours.
“Let’s grab something else to drink first.”
You grab Jungkook’s hand, pulling him closer to the bar again. He follows, his thumb soothingly rubbing circles on the back of your hand, and he doesn’t let go when you lean against the bar, attracting the barman’s attention.
“Are you up for some Jager bombs?” you suggest.
He smirks, looking downright devilish with the mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “I’d never say no to Jager Bombs.”
That’s how you find yourself downing two shots each, and you’re getting pretty tipsy by the time the show starts, and Jungkook pulls you onto the dancefloor. You dance and dance, the atmosphere electric, Jungkook’s laugh so contagious you think you might have caught a happy disease. Because you can’t stop smiling, you can’t stop laughing.
It’s like the engagement party never happened and frankly, it’s what you needed.
Jungkook pulls you closer in the middle of the crowd, kissing you languidly. You’re quick to kiss him back, to push your tongue in his mouth the moment his lips part to allow entry. He grunts in the kiss, in the intensity that takes on the two of you even though you’re in public.
You want him so bad. You’ve always wanted him badly, but right now it’s making your blood sing in your veins.
But the evening is young still, and so you return to dancing, your back pressed against Jungkook. You sway your hips to the beat of the music, and he guides your motions, head hanging low. He occasionally presses soft kisses on the side of your face, and your eyes flutter shut in contentment.
If you’d die right now, you think you’d die happy.
“Peach,” Jungkook whispers.
Your eyes flutter open as you glance at him. The intensity in his gaze makes you feel smaller than a speck of dust. “What?”
“Should we go home?” he asks.
You glance towards the scene, where the DJ is clearly in the middle of his set. “The show’s not over yet.”
“I know.” He nips at your jaw, and you tilt your head to the side to allow him access to your neck. He’s quick to press an open-mouthed kiss there.
You turn in his hold, finding his lips again. This kiss is hotter, like fire blazing bright, and you, too, want to head home. You want to get lost in him, in this moment of him being yours out in public like this.
“Fuck, JK,” you whisper when you pull away, breathing raggedly.
“What?”
“Kissing you like this, where anyone can see…” you trail off, glancing at the crowd.
Nobody is paying you any attention, yet you feel like you’re the center of the universe right now. Or maybe that’s Jungkook - he’s the center of your universe.
“It’s turning me on,” you finish in a breathy sentence meant just for him.
“Peach,” he says, voice low and husky. It ignites even more warmth inside of you, and you think you’re about to melt in his touch. “Then I’ll bring you here more often. I’ll show everyone that you’re mine, mmh?”
That you’re mine. You like the sound of those words in his mouth far too much, even though part of you wants to reply that you’re your own self, and don’t belong to anyone.
Perhaps you want to belong to him, and that in and of itself is a far too dangerous thought. But New York shines tonight, and you feel infinite.
You are infinite, as long as he’s by your side.
You stay for the rest of the DJ’s set, despite you both wanting to go home. Jungkook is touchy, yet respectfully so as you dance, never really touching you where you want him, but his hands lingering near every fiery spot in your body. The Uber ride home is spent in tense silence, as is the walk up to the elevators of his building.
He holds your hand through it all, refusing to let go, and you like it.
You like everything about this moment, right now. Like you’ve stepped into an alternate universe where you really are his, and you pray you’ll never have to leave.
The elevator doors slide open, and Jungkook pulls you in. You’re disappointed when you notice a middle-aged woman already riding the elevator from the underground parking lot, and Jungkook politely nods to her as he presses the button for the highest floor.
Fortunately, the woman gets off on the eighth floor, and you’re left alone with Jungkook. He’s quick to spring into action, pushing you back against the wall so that he can steal a languid kiss of tongues and lips, of getting lost in him until you fully lose touch with reality.
“Fuck,” you breathe as Jungkook leaves a trail of hot kisses from your jaw to your neck.
He sucks a hickey below your ear, and you can’t help but moan lightly as you drag your hands through his hair, leaving it dishevelled.
The doors of the elevator slide open, and Jungkook startles, taking a step back from you. One glance down reveals the proof of his attraction for you, and you really are aflame, burning from the inside out.
“I need to take a shower,” you say.
A cold, cold shower, before you combust irreparably.
“Okay,” Jungkook lets out, and he grabs your hand again to pull you to the door.
You don’t know how he does it, but he refrains from kissing you when you’re in. You’d expected him to jump on you - you practically wanted him to - but Jungkook, ever so the gentleman, only leads you inside and to his room.
You take in the city skyline, the beauty of being so high you feel like you’re flying. The city sparkles, lights shining on and on, and you glance at Jungkook.
His eyes shine with undiluted lust and another emotion you can’t quite put your finger on. You just know it’s ten thousand times better than the shadows that had lingered in his gaze after the engagement party, and you want to cling to it.
“Do you want to take a shower with me?” you suggest as he helps you out of your coat.
“Want me to wash your hair?” he teases, flicking your nose.
He’s your Jungkook again, and an excited thrill goes through you.
“Yes,” you say, smirking. “Maybe if you’re nice I’ll wash your back.”
He narrows his gaze, though his lips curve upwards. “I’m always nice.” He puts your coat away in the walk-in wardrobe, emerging without his own coat, too.
“Are you?”
You let out a yelp as he bends to pick you up bridal style. “Always,” he says, pecking your cheek once as you wrap your arms around his neck.
“You scared the shit out of me,” you grumble as he carries you to the bathroom, putting you down on the counter.
“I’d say I’m sorry but I’m not even a little bit sorry,” he teases, and he steals a quick kiss on your lips before stepping away from you to turn on the shower.
You watch him as he does so - he’s beautiful, with his dishevelled hair and big doe eyes he casts on you as he glances over his shoulder. He’s still smiling, his features so soft you can’t help but smile back, your heart fluttering in your chest.
“How hot do you want the shower to be?” he asks.
You smirk. “What kind of hot are you talking about?”
He rolls his eyes, though his light laugh fills the air. “Water temperature, dummy.”
“Doesn’t matter,” you say, shrugging your shoulders. “Just put it how you like it.”
He nods, and he does so, adjusting the settings until the multiple shower heads are on, and steam soon starts to waft out of the shower.
Jungkook walks back to you, toying with his piercings. You scan his features, lingering on his eyebrow piercing, and then spread your thighs so that he can step between your legs. He does so, wrapping his arms around your middle, and you rest your head on his shoulder.
“What are you doing?” you ask.
He picks you up, putting you down on the floor. “Gotta get you out of your dress, mmh?”
Your heart once again hitches in your chest, and goosebumps rise on your arms as Jungkook lightly brushes his fingers up your skin.
“Turn around, peach,” he tells you.
You obey, and you watch yourself in the mirror as Jungkook unzips your dress. There’s something so intimate about the moment that your pulse skyrockets, butterflies making a mess of your stomach.
Jungkook finishes unzipping the dress, and he pushes it off your shoulders, pressing a kiss on the naked skin he’s revealed on the back of your shoulder. You feel apprehensive, like he hasn’t seen you naked before, and you gulp as he lets go of the dress, and it falls to the floor to pool around your ankles.
“You know,” Jungkook breathes as you shiver, the air colder than you expect. Your nipples perk on your chest, and Jungkook is quick to wrap his arms around you so that he can tease the sensitive buds with his fingers. “Every time I see you, you get more beautiful.”
“Jk…” you breathe out, cheeks burning under the intensity of his gaze.
“It’s true,” he insists. He turns you around, his eyes lost in yours. “There’s something about you…” he trails off.
He never finishes the sentence as you stand on your tiptoe, pulling him down by the collar of his shirt. Your mouths collide, and you sigh against the plump softness of him, kissing him softly, tenderly. He kisses you back just as softly, his hands holding you by the waist.
“Peach…” he sighs.
Your eyes flutter open to find him already looking at you, and you do feel like the most beautiful woman in the world when he looks at you like that.
“I think you’re supposed to undress too,” you whisper.
He chuckles softly, taking a step back from you. “Wanna help?”
You gulp again, your throat feeling dry, yet you raise trembling hands in the space between you so that you can reach for the buttons of his shirt. You focus on the task at hand, on every inch of honey skin revealed by the buttons coming undone. Jungkook’s intense gaze doesn’t leave your face as you undress him, and soon you’re pushing his shirt off him, resting your hands flat on his chest.
His heart is racing under your palms, the only indication that this is affecting him just as badly as it’s affecting you.
You meet his gaze as he takes charge of taking off his pants, and soon they’re on the floor with your dress and his shirt, and you both stand in your underwear, gazes embracing.
“I’m so going to take my time with you tonight,” he breathes, cupping your cheek. His thumb gently swipes at your skin, and you instinctively lean your head into his palm.
“Yeah?” you let out.
He tilts your head back with a finger under your chin, and then he’s kissing you again, as if to prove it to you with actions rather than words. “Definitely,” he says the second he pulls away. And then his hands go down your body, slowly, finding the hem of your panties. “Can I take this off?”
You nod, and he drops to his knees. Your eyes widen, yet he only busies himself with taking your underwear off, helping you step out of it once it’s around your ankles. He gets up again after, and he pushes his boxers down.
You’ve been avoiding looking at the obvious bulge in his underwear, but his dick stands proud and tall the second you glance down, already leaking precum.
He’s been wanting you badly, and it shows.
“Shit, Jungkook,” you breathe.
“I know,” he lets out. “I’m fucking hard for you.” He chuckles, and grabs your face to force you to meet his gaze again. “From the mess I saw in your panties, I know you’re already soaked for me too.” He pecks your lips, and then your forehead. “But shower first, right?”
You kiss again, and this time he sucks your lower lip into his mouth, teasing it with his teeth.
“Shower first,” you repeat the second you pull away.
He smirks, winking at you, and then he walks over to the shower, leaving you there with your heart beating out of your chest. You take a deep breath, trying to tame the wild beats, and soon enough you follow Jungkook, right when he steps in the shower. He holds the glass door open for you, closing it behind you once you’re in, hot water splashing you.
You face Jungkook, and he looks at you with his head tilted to the side, a smirk playing on the corners of his lips.
“What?” you ask.
“Nothing,” he answers. “Pass me the soap?”
You nod, gulping, and you look away from him to find the soap. You grab it, handing it to Jungkook, and he gently takes it out of your hands.
“Turn around,” he tells you for the second time tonight. “I’ll wash your back.”
“Shouldn’t you start with my hair?” you ask.
He chuckles. “So bossy. Wet your hair then.”
You obey, and soon enough Jungkook is rubbing shampoo on your scalp, and your eyes flutter shut as you relax into the touch. He rinses your hair when he’s done, and then takes care of the conditioner.
“You like being pampered, don’t you?” he teases.
“Only if you’re the one pampering me,” you fire back.
He laughs, and he presses a soft kiss on your forehead again. “Then I guess I need to pamper you more.”
You’re falling. You know exactly what’s happening, and you wonder if he feels it too.
“Let me take care of you,” you say once Jungkook is done with washing your hair.
He smiles down at you, nodding once. “Okay.”
And so you wash him, cleaning his back first. You teasingly rub his ass, and Jungkook throws you a glare over his shoulder that makes you burst out laughing. Once you’re done he turns around, and you gently rub his chest, a smile still curving your lips upwards as you fall in comfortable silence.
He isn’t so hard anymore. Yet, when your hands get lower on his abdomen, his dick twitches, and he’s quick to get hard again. You cock an eyebrow, looking up at him.
“I barely touch you and this is how you react?” you tease.
He grabs your jaw, his grip firm. “And now you’ll clean my dick too, won’t you?”
You blush, nodding once as he lets go of your jaw to cup your cheek instead. You wrap a hand around the base of his dick, and then you stroke him once. His lips part, and he pulls on his piercings before looking down at himself.
“Let me…” he trails off, and you nod, stepping away from him to let him clean himself. You quickly wash yourself as he does so, cheeks burning so much you wouldn’t be surprised if you were purple.
Once you’re both cleaned, you face Jungkook again, and he offers you a soft smile. Unable to resist, you look down at his dick, reaching for him again.
“Now that you’re clean…” you let out, and you smirk. “Maybe I can actually take care of you?”
You don’t know where the courage comes from, but you’re not going to waste it. Indeed, you immediately drop to your knees, and Jungkook redirects the shower heads away from your face.
“Yeah?” he lets out. “You want to suck me?”
You nod, biting your bottom lip, and then you jerk him off once, eyes moving to his dick. It’s pretty, though not as hard as he was earlier, and you tentatively swirl your tongue around his tip, before sucking on it lightly.
Jungkook curses under his breath, leaning a hand against the wall as if looking for support. “Don’t be shy,” he says.
You smirk again, and this time you drag your tongue on the side of his dick, from base to top, before wrapping your lips around him again. You hollow your cheeks as you take most of him in your mouth, and Jungkook moans softly when he hits the back of your throat.
“Shit…” he lets out.
You suck harder as you pull almost all the way off, and then you truly get to work, eyes fluttering shut as you suck him, jerking him off in time with the motions of your head. Jungkook holds your head, letting you set the rhythm you feel comfortable with, and soon you’re moaning on his dick, the vibrations making him curse.
You take him all the way in, looking up at him despite the tears blinding your gaze. He’s got his head thrown back, lips parted as he breathes heavily, chest moving rapidly. You wonder if you’d be able to make him come like this, and you suck harder, holding in the gag reflex that’s threatening to interrupt your ministrations on him.
“Peach,” he moans, and then he pulls out of your mouth.
A string of spit connects his tip to your lips, and you’re quick to lick at it, to taste the precum that’s dripping from his slit.
“That feels good?” you ask.
He nods. “Way too much,” he replies, chuckling breathlessly. “I’m going to fall in love with your mouth if you keep sucking me like that.”
You don’t need more to spur you into action, and you go back to sucking him, pouring everything you have in the action. His dick gets harder and harder in your mouth, and you know he has to be close. So you tentatively tease his balls with your free hand, and he moans as you squeeze lightly.
“Peach,” he lets out, and it sounds whiny. “Stop. I want to fuck you now.”
You pull out, offering him an innocent pout as you keep jerking him off quickly. “You don’t think you’d be able to go for round two?”
He chuckles, slightly shaking his head. “Not when I drank. And I really just want to make you feel good too.”
Only for that reason do you let him pull you up to your feet, and you reluctantly let go of his dick as he pushes you against the tile wall, mouth immediately finding yours in a ravaging kiss. You moan as he pushes his tongue in your mouth, and you go back to jerking him off, unable to keep your hands off him.
He hisses as he pulls away from the kiss, and then he glances towards his discarded pants on the floor beyond the glass door of the shower. “I have condoms in there,” he reveals, and then he meets your gaze again. “But you deserve better than to be fucked in a shower, mmh?”
You gulp, nodding once as he steals another quick kiss on your lips, and then he turns off the shower. You stand in the steam for a few seconds, holding each other’s gaze, and then Jungkook pulls you out of the shower, wrapping a towel around you.
You’re quick to dry yourself, lust and desire clouding your mind, and you don’t hesitate when Jungkook grabs your hand, pulling you towards his bedroom. The walk-in is cold as you step out of the bathroom, but you busy yourself with watching the strong muscles of his back, and the tattoos on his arm. It’s distracting enough, and soon Jungkook turns to face you again, kissing you deeply before pulling away.
“Do you want me to close the curtains?” he asks as he steps away from you, enough so that your eyes fall to his erection.
“You think people can see us?” you let out, casting a quick glance towards the tall windows, and the city beyond.
“Maybe, if they’re looking up here,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s never bothered me, but I’ve never been with anyone in this bed, so…”
Your gaze widens. “You’ve never fucked here?”
You think it’s blush creeping on his cheeks as he scratches the back of his neck. “I’ve never brought a girl here at all.”
You let out a nervous laugh. “I’m sorry what?”
He winks at you, eyes going down your frame. They stop on your perked nipples, and he toys with his piercings.
“You’re the first girl who’s ever come here,” he says. “The first one I’ll fuck in this bed. And maybe I do want the city to see me fucking you. I want them to see how beautiful you are when you come.”
You’re speechless as he strolls towards you, and his mouth collides with yours, his lips moving like he’s a starved man against yours. He pushes you towards the bed, and you fall on it the second the back of your legs hit it. He looks at you, wetting his lips, and then winks.
“I’ll be right back.”
He disappears back into the walk-in, and you prop yourself up on your elbows to watch him as he retrieves a condom from his wallet. He inspects the tinfoil package on the way back, making sure that the condom is safe to use, and then he rips it open, pulling the condom out.
He puts it on, rolling it down his dick as you watch with your heart beating wildly again as it knows what’s to come.
No one has ever fucked you as good as Jungkook, and you can tell he won’t disappoint tonight either. No, the intensity in his gaze can’t be mistaken, and the second he kneels between your legs you spread your thighs wide open, offering yourself on a silver platter.
“Already?” he teases, and he strokes himself slowly. “I thought you’d need a little bit of foreplay before.”
“Trust me,” you let out. “I’m already wet enough for you to rearrange my guts.”
He smirks, and he moves closer, close enough to rub his dick on your folds. “You are.” He says it like he’s surprised, but the second he starts rubbing his dick on your clit you’re gone, unable to form logical thoughts. “So you want me to fuck you? To rearrange your guts?”
“Jungkook,” is all you can reply.
He teases your folds again, pushes in just enough for his tip to part them. “Tell me what you want, peach.”
“I want you,” you say, and you don’t care how whiny you sound.
You feel like you’ll die if he doesn’t fuck you into oblivion.
“Where?” he asks, and he pulls away to rub his dick on your clit again.
You clench your jaw, reaching for his dick, but Jungkook is quick to grab your hand with his free one, pinning your wrist over your head.
“Be nice, mmh?” he says in your ear, and then he straightens.
“I want you inside of me, Jungkook.”
“Yeah?” He pushes in, though he stops when just his tip is in. “Like this?”
“Fuck, stop teasing,” you grumble.
Jungkook laughs, and a second later he slams home, his dick splitting you open as he pushes almost all of himself inside of you. You moan, your eyes fluttering shut, and he barely gives you time to adjust before he grabs your waist, and he starts pounding you, setting an unforgiving pace.
His thrusts are quick and hard, and you see stars almost immediately, your walls clenching around him. It doesn’t slow him down, only makes him readjust himself until he hits a better angle, and you moan loudly as he drags against the sweetest spot inside of you.
“Jungkook,” you moan.
He bends down, slowing just long enough to lean on his elbow, and then he holds your shoulders as he jackhammers into you again, so hard his bed bangs into the wall repeatedly.
There’s no one to hear you fucking here. And he knows it - it’s like he’s keen on rearranging your guts, and you’re a whining, moaning mess as he fucks you hard. You hold onto his back, nails digging in his skin and Jungkook grunts in your ears as his pace never falters.
You know he’s got good stamina, but tonight feels different, like he’ll fuck you until the sun rises.
“Shit, peach,” Jungkook lets out, and he pulls out of you so suddenly you’re left gasping for air.
“Wh-” you start, but he flips you over, repositioning himself so that he can push inside of you again.
He doesn’t move right away, instead massaging your ass cheeks as your walls clench around his dick, begging for more. He slaps your ass, not hard enough to hurt but enough to sting, and you clutch the bed sheets, pushing your hips back into him.
“You want some control, mmh?” he asks, and he pulls back just enough to allow you more movement.
It doesn’t take you long before you take advantage of it, fucking yourself back on him, rolling your hips when he hits your cervix.
“You’re so big,” you let out on a whine. “So deep.”
“And you take me so well, peach.” He slaps your ass again, massaging the sting away. “Like your pussy was made for me.”
“It was,” you reply right away.
Jungkook thrusts once, and you rock forward on the bed from the intensity of his motion. Luckily for you, he was holding your waist, and so his dick doesn’t leave you empty.
“Good girl,” he says, so low it sounds like a growl, and then he’s back to pounding inside of you, and you’re a mess, trying to hold yourself together as you clutch the sheets.
Jungkook leans on one hand, snapping his hips into you again and again, and he wraps his free hand under you, blindly searching for your clit. The second he touches the sensitive bundle of nerves you moan loudly again, and he doesn’t need more to start rubbing figures on you, quick circles that send you into orbit so fast you barely realize your orgasm has hit you until you come down from the high, legs shaking as your vision keeps going in and out of focus.
Jungkook stops moving for a few seconds, bending down to press a feathersoft kiss on the side of your face. “You came hard,” he states.
“Holy fuck,” is all you can reply.
“One day, I want to feel you come on my dick without a condom on,” he says, and then he’s fucking you again, though this time he’s clearly chasing his own high.
Yet it feels good, far too good, and you come again - did you actually stop coming in the first place - as he rams his hips into yours. Jungkook milks it out of you, whispering filthy praises to you all along, and once he’s sure you’ve calmed down, he pulls out, flipping you on your back again.
He steals a kiss on your lips as he pushes in again, and this time he fucks you slower, deeper, lips never leaving yours. You lose trembling hands in his hair, run them along his back, and you wrap your legs around his waist for him to fuck you deeper. He doesn’t disappoint, and you take all of him in you as he pushes in, and then pulls almost all the way out.
“I’ll fall in love with your pussy,” Jungkook whispers against you.
He rests his forehead against yours, and your heart fills with far too many emotions - none you can voice.
“JK…”
“Peach,” he answers in the same tone, and then he kisses you again. The second he breaks from the kiss he straightens, going back to kneeling between your legs. “Now be nice and let me come, mmh?”
“Come for me.”
“On it.”
You don’t know when he comes. All you know is that you’re swimming in far too much bliss when he starts fucking you hard again, and you lose touch with your body. It’s like you’re floating somewhere close to the ceiling, or maybe amongst the stars up above. You’re floating, and Jungkook grunts and curses as he fucks you, his motions growing sloppier, and soon he stills deep inside of you, hands holding your waist as he releases loads and loads of cum in the condom.
You wish he’d come inside of you so you’d feel it drip out of you when he pulls out. It’s a dirty thought to have, yet you can’t help it - not when you’re literally swimming in ecstasy, feeling like you’re buzzing.
Jungkook lies down next to you, resting a hand on your stomach as you try to regain your breath. It takes you a while - long enough for him to kiss the side of your face and promise he’ll be back as he disappears in the bathroom - but you do come down from the high, the bedroom and the city beyond the windows finally coming back into focus.
It’s raining. You didn’t realize it before, but raindrops are racing each other on the window, and you get lost admiring the view as Jungkook cleans himself in the bathroom.
He comes back with a wet washcloth for you to clean yourself, and you thank him as he offers it to you. You know you have to go pee before you sleep though, so you brave the walk to the bathroom, legs feeling like jelly under you. You manage to make it to the bathroom and back, and Jungkook welcomes you back into bed with a tired smile on his lips.
“Come here,” he says, and he opens his arms for you to nestle in his embrace.
You do so, pushing one leg between his as you wrap one arm around his waist.
“Feeling okay?” Jungkook asks.
“I think I’ll need weeks to recover,” you tease, and Jungkook’s answering laugh makes you feel like you’re the luckiest girl in the universe.
“Does that mean I can’t fuck you for a few weeks?” he asks, and you hear the pout in his voice.
It makes you smile against him.
“Mmmh,” you let out. “Nah, I want you to fuck me like this again tomorrow.”
He laughs again, and his arms tighten around you. “Then we better get a good night of sleep. We need to drive back home tomorrow.”
Back home. Together. Because, even if he’s Taehyung’s best friend, which you’ve conveniently forgotten all weekend, he’s also your roommate.
You share a home, and you think there’s beauty in that thought.
You yawn, nuzzling your face in his chest. “I don’t know about you but I’ll sleep like a rock.”
“And snore?”
“I don’t snore,” you answer, frowning slightly.
Jungkook chuckles and then kisses the top of your head. “You snore a little. Not as much as me though.”
“Tell me about it,” you complain, even though his soft snores had acted like white noise yesterday, helping you fall asleep despite the unfamiliar environment.
He yawns, pulling even closer. “Peach?”
You hum in answer.
“Thank you for this weekend,” he whispers. “I don’t know how I would have done it without you.”
“Jungkook…” you trail off, wanting to argue.
“I’m serious,” he insists. “You’re…”
He doesn’t finish his sentence, and you pull away just enough so that you can look up at his face. “I’m what?”
“You’re you,” he answers, as if that explains anything.
And when you see the softness clinging to his gaze, you think maybe it does.
Prev | Chapter 8.5 | Next
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#chasing cars ch 8#jungkook smut#jungkook angst#jungkook fluff#jungkook x you#jungkook x reader#jungkook fic#jungkook#jjk smut#jjk angst#jjk fluff#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk fic#jjk#jeon jungkook#btswritersclub#chasing cars#chasing cars series
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sleepy !
katsuki wants to go to bed, but you're kinda hungry
katsuki’s extra clingy when he’s sleepy. you know he’s sleepy because he hasn’t left you alone since he came back from his sparring session with kirishima.
it’s almost funny how The katsuki bakugou who’s so scary, who’s all sharp glares and huffs and pinched eyebrows, is hanging off your shoulders like a big fat baby.
“katsuki.” you start, softly rubbing one of his arms tightly wrapped around your shoulder. he grunts. “you can go to bed if you’re tired, handsome. i’ll come up later.” you look back at him as much as you can since he’s barely letting you breathe with how tightly he’s holding you. he huffs, droopy red eyes glaring down at the sandwich you were making for yourself like it was at fault for keeping you out of bed with him.
“ m’not tired.” he slurs, his hold tightens on you and he shoves his head into your shoulder. his hair tickles and you shuffle to the side a little. he follows.
you giggle to yourself. usually, katsuki would have some qualms about being so touchy where someone could walk in at anytime. it’s not like he was ashamed of being with you (not even close) but he has a reputation to uphold, y’know?
as if on cue, he yawns into your shoulder. you let out a light laugh and he nips at your shoulder in retaliation. “ i thought you said you weren’t tired ? what happened to that ?” you question teasingly, a sly little smile forming on your face. he mumbles something into your shoulder you can’t make out. “ i can’t hear you, love.” he groans, lifting his head up slightly but his eyes are still closed. “ s’cus yer takin’ forever. by the time you’re done i’ll be fuckin’ dead, dumbass.” he says before dropping his head back down on your shoulder like a load of bricks and you snort.
“ i’m done. i just want to go eat this sitting down but i can’t because someone won’t let me move.” you shoulder him lightly, he doesn’t budge, but grunts nonetheless.
“ jus’ eat it here.”
“ i’m not eating my sandwich standing up, katsuki.”
“ why the fuck not ?”
“ because !” you laugh “ i wanna enjoy my food !”
“ can enjoy it just fine with me here. why’re ya trying to get away from me ? s’your food less enjoyable when i’m around or somethin’ ?”
you roll your eyes but the smile on your face grows wider. “you’re such a baby.” you let out a light squeal when he pokes your side and lightly smack his arm, he huffs out a little laugh into your shoulder.
“katsuki !”
“fuck you, m’not a baby.”
“ could’ve fooled m—ow ! oh my god !” you yelp as he bites you and the fucker laughs. you huff, grabbing his arms to try to free yourself of the clutches of this absolute demon. he stops laughing then, grunting and groaning at you like you were the one inconveniencing him, while still keeping his head secure in your shoulder. the nerve of this guy.
“ katsuki.” you groan and he growls at you again, like a wild animal, like he’s daring you to try to escape him again. you sigh “ okay, okay, fine. you win, okay?” you say, admitting defeat while you can lest you have a sleepy, pissed off bakugou hanging off you.
“m’not a baby.”
“you’re not a baby.” you confirm. he squeezes you a little tighter and you sigh again. “can i at least go sit down ? i’ll even hold your hand on the way there, is that good ?” you say sarcastically. you snort when he lets out a grumble and pokes at your side and you can feel the unmistakable frown he has on his face.
“ told you m’not a baby.” he complains but he (begrudgingly) lets you go to let you move around. you turn around and he follows immediately. you have to hold back a laugh at the thought of a big buff bad boy like katsuki following you around like a lost puppy. you hold back your laughter but you’ve still got a dorky smile on your face when you sit down. katsuki’s not too far behind you, he never is. he pushes his chair way closer than it needs to be next to you and your knee is pressed against his when he sits down.
“what’re you grinning about, huh ?” you turn to look at him, dorky smile still very much on your face as you gaze at him. he’s still got that horrible frown on his face but his eyebrows aren’t scrunched up anymore, one of his perfect eyebrows is lifted up questioningly and he’s sitting so close to you you’re sure you can count the exact number of lashes he has.
“nothin’.” you sing, taking a bite of your sandwich. he huffs but doesn’t pry further. instead, he leans closer to you. you make eye contact and he looks at you expectantly. you know what he wants after a second, but you’re not gonna give it to him so easily. “ did you need something?” you ask innocently. his eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he’s glaring at you, he’s figured you out. he huffs for the umpteenth time today and he squints at you harder when you giggle lightly.
“ gimme some.” he says gruffly, already opening his mouth slightly like he knows you’ll share with him. and he’s right, because you do. you bring your sandwich closer to his face and he takes a bite, humming contentedly before leaning back into a more comfortable position, never too far though.
“you always take huge bites out of my food, my sandwich’s basically gone.” you tease, playfully pouting dejectedly at your sandwich, holding back a snort when he scoffs at you, offended.
“ fuck off.” he spits, but there’s no animosity in his words. he resorts to pinching your thigh to make up for it,“ didn’t even eat much, you big baby.” he says. usually he’d have something smarter to say but he’s tired now, and you originally intended to take full advantage of the situation, but you’re feeling nice today. he’s tired and you’ve made him wait long enough, in his eyes at least.
you roll your eyes, deciding to ignore his comment and take another bite of your sandwich. you eat in silence and he doesn’t say anything else after that. when you finish he practically jumps up from his seat despite his lack of energy, looking at you expectantly as if to say ‘let’s go already.” you giggle.
“ i hear you, handsome.” you coo, going over to place your plate in the sink, you could wash your plate later when he falls asleep, probably (if he somehow decides to let you go).
you feel like being a little mean to him as you stay where you’re standing by the sink and sigh. katsuki, who had already turned around to go upstairs, turns to you, eyebrow raised in question.
you hum, placing a finger on your chin “ i dunno, i still don’t feel full, maybe i should make another-"
you’re dragged by your arm towards him before you can even fully comprehend what’s happening or even finish your sentence. you let out a big belly laugh when he grumbles. he suddenly has you lifted over his shoulder and you yelp, wondering where the hell this herculean strength came from despite him being so tired.
“ m’tired of your shit, quit fuckin’ around so i can go to bed.” he slaps the back of your thigh lightly and you gasp, but you’re still giggling a little. “you know, you could’ve just went ahead with out me, i would’ve come eventually.” he scoffs like you had just told him something utterly foolish, like the concept of sleeping without you was unfathomable to him, you smile harder at the thought.
“ don’t be stupid,” he mumbles “as if i could do that.” he adds the last part quietly but you catch it either way, there’s blood rushing to your cheeks and you don’t know if it’s because you’re slightly embarrassed by his honesty or if its because he’s been holding you upside down this whole time.
when you get to the elevator, he places you back down. grabs you by the shoulders and squeezes like he’s trying to weld you to the floor and make sure you won’t move. “ we’re going to bed, now.” his tone is decided, clear. you’re not fighting him on this and you honestly don’t want to.
instead you smile, grabbing his hand and squeeze “okay, let’s.” you beam.
he squeezes back.
#jus a lil domesticity w katsu#i didnt know how to end this#im just rambling please do not perceive me#i wanted to write something for him again#dm the fact thats all ive been doing lol#this is kind of a mess#i love my boyfriend#bakugou katsuki#bakugou imagine#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugo fluff#katsuki bakugou x reader#katsuki x reader#bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#IVE TALKED TM AGAIN!!!
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It really does blow balancing spirituality as someone who isn’t experienced in it when you have mental health things, specifically delusions. It puts a damper on the fun, or makes things a little TOO fun. I know I went off the deep end believing 100% I was physically going to be a monster, forgot what triggered it, but legit was planning for it and absolutely would have hurt myself if I believed it would get me what I want. I have decided that doing this in dreams and maybe in meditation will probably make me just as happy, but it is very hard to completely write it off. At the same time if someone agreed with me it would make me upset at them for feeding into my delusion.
The dream entities are 100% real though, and I have been told that’s crazy talk……by someone who says she sees spirits. And she is super familiar with witchy shit. And the other people in the room believed her. But me? I was LITERALLY forced to make an appointment with my psychiatrist after talking about this, while she LITERALLY got to talk to a paranormal investigator immediately after.
#personal post#witchblr#beginner witch#mental health#most of my life I wanted to be not-me and it is very appealing to be something non human#but uhhhh#that’s asking for a lot#still despite me knowing this I have very big feelings about having to be me#buuuut I’m trying to make the ride more enjoyable and be kinder to myself#if I have to be me then why make it harder?#I still have daydreaming available#my therapist said it’s a coping mechanism and is ok for me#he does know about the monster thing#though I have only briefly mentioned how deep that goes and kinda hurried the conversation along#as it is VERY embarrassing#also the paranormal guy is in the next room to us so it’s not as big a deal as it sounds
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You’re gonna have to get Soap really drunk before he’ll admit this— but he loves it when he undresses you and you’re wearing comfy, mismatched underwear. Some little cotton panties you bought in a multipack, and some random sports bra. He likes a matching, lace set, sure— but he loves you casual. Same way with clothes. You’ll always turn him on by being in a big, faded sleep t-shirt with a cracking design on the front.
Johnny loves being an agent of chaos in your life. You’re so tightly wound— he loves uncoiling you. Wearing your comfy stuff means a couple of things to him. First, that you didn’t even plan on fucking him, it just happened, getting fucked wasn’t a part of your carefully laid itinerary but of course, you don’t say no to him when he starts feeling you up.
Second, Johnny loves to see your guard completely down. He has no idea what your body count is, and doesn’t really care. But he’ll bet that not many men have seen you comfortably lay around, rolling around in bed, hugging a pillow and drooling on it, acting like he isn’t even watching you. Way fewer than the amount that have seen you in matching underwear. Fuck, he might be the only one— he’ll probably ask and he isn’t going to try to hide how hard he is from the thought.
And you know what. I’m brave. I’ll say it. He loves it if you have a bush. He’s a carpet enjoyer. Makes you seem so much more real to him. And he thinks about how many guys you’ve been with that made you feel like you had to shave, even if they didn’t say anything about it— you were worried about them finding it unattractive. When you asked him if he’d mind if you stopped shaving, he almost howls he wants it so bad.
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Can’t get the new tumblr update cause my phone’s too old
#it’s fine#I’m fine#it’s not like I want to see the insanity#average sanity enjoyer#stupitersays#this iPhone 6 is a personality trait at this point I can’t get rid of it :(#also I already drop my phone enough if it were as big as smartphone are now I’d need a new one every 2 months#also I need the headphone jack#I go thru / loose headphones so fast I can’t afford new Bluetooths every couple months#guys at Best Buy will tell u it’s for water proofing#my brother in Christ it is for corporate greed#the headphone jack is not the reason iPhones aren’t waterproof
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An Innocent Question
Day 27 of Kinktober: Visions of Temptation hosted by @xxsycamore found here Featuring: Love and Deepspace | Caleb x f!reader Tags: mdni, smut, pwp, alternate universe - college, friends with benefits, cunnilingus, fingering, finger fucking, making out, p in v sex, caleb being a sexy little shit Prompts: Casual Sex/FWB | “Come here. I'll make it all better.” A/N: Yeee~ Finally wrote one for Caleb :) ao3 link here.
It started with an innocent question.
You were in Caleb’s dorm room, perched on his bed after you raced over the moment you finished moving in.
“Hey, Caleb, is it true that the average penis is between five and six inches long?”
You’d read that somewhere on the internet, and who better than Caleb, a man with a penis himself, to answer the question?
Caleb choked on his drink, spraying soda on his dorm room carpet that had definitely seen better days. “Pipsqueak, did ya just ask me about penises?”
“Yeah, I read it somewhere on the internet, and I was wondering if it was true.” You nonchalantly shrugged, confused as to why he was making such a big deal out of your question. “I mean, you have a penis, you should know, right?”
Caleb looked at you like you’d lost your goddamn mind. It was unnerving… how he was just staring at you without uttering a single word.
“You don’t have to be so weird about it,” you huffed.
“I’m not being– Pipsqueak, why’re ya asking me about penises?” Caleb asked, still eyeing you strangely.
“Six inches just seems like a lot, that’s all,” you said annoyed. “Whatever, forget I said anything.”
Caleb was still eyeing you with that strange look in his eyes when his expression shifted, a sudden thought dawning on him. “Pipsqueak, are ya a virgin?” he asked incredulously.
Of course he made it sound like it was this horrible thing to be one.
“N–no!” you blurted out, your cheeks burning.
Technically, you weren’t. A virgin, that is. You had a high school boyfriend who was your first and only experience in that realm, but the two of you had been inexperienced teenagers fumbling your way through the mechanics of sex, and well… it had been underwhelming to put it nicely. You’d always heard how fun sex could be, but you’d never experienced it yourself, and you were curious about how it might feel with someone different… someone more experienced… maybe even someone like Caleb…
Caleb smirked, and you felt your blood freeze in your veins because you knew that smirk. You knew it all too well. It was the shit-eating grin he’d get when he was about to ruthlessly tease you… and he loved teasing you.
“Pipsqueak’s still a virgin, eh?”
“I am not a virgin, thank you very much. Not that I have to prove anything to you, asshole.”
“Mmhmm.”
Your blood pressure skyrocketed. Caleb had this way of just burrowing under your skin, and you knew… you knew you were playing into his hands, but the skepticism in his gaze had you steaming, and you wanted nothing more than to scratch the disbelief off his face.
“I had a boyfriend in high school, jerk face,” you snapped, “and not that it’s any of your business, but we had sex, okay?”
Caleb mockingly nodded, that stupid impish glint in his eye glittering at you dangerously. “And lemme guess, it was just the one time and ya never orgasmed?”
You snapped your mouth shut, pressing your lips into a thin, tight line, the retort you wanted to throw at him dying in your throat because he was right. You had nothing to say to that.
“So I’m right,” Caleb sniggered, and you bristled at the infuriating sound.
You hated when he was able to see right through you and used it for his own sick enjoyment.
“Well, I dunno what to tell ya, Pipsqueak.” Caleb shrugged. “I dunno about other guys, but I’m definitely bigger than six inches.”
Your mouth dropped open. Six inches already seemed like a lot of dick, and you couldn’t imagine anyone being bigger than your ex-boyfriend who had been roughly around five, and that had seemed massive to you at the time.
Your curiosity got the better of you, and you cringed when you couldn’t stop the next question tumbling out of your mouth.
“Can I see?”
Caleb’s eyes widened, shocked by your outrageous question. Hell, you shocked yourself asking something so ridiculous, but the next thing you knew, you found yourself splayed on top of Caleb’s extra-long twin size bed trembling violently while he obscenely licked away between your legs doing things with his tongue you never would’ve thought a tongue could do… never would’ve guessed he knew how to do.
Thrilling tingles were running up and down your back building into something you’d never felt before, a dizzying pressure of pleasure tightening in your stomach until you burst, and you shook uncontrollably against Caleb’s mouth suctioned to your bits, ecstasy rolling through you in torrid waves.
“Thatta girl,” Caleb snickered. “Congrats on your first orgasm, Pipsqueak.”
You wanted to smack him. Or ask him to do that again. Or both. But you just laid there instead, flushed and spent, thinking about how much you’d been missing out in the sex department.
You and Caleb never spoke about what happened after you left. Not once.
But you thought about that night often, how explosive your climax had been from just his mouth, and if a mouth could make you feel so sinfully good, how much better would it be with an actual dick?
As the year progressed, you started dating, which wasn’t hard considering how desperate college boys were for female companionship, and while you didn’t go all the way with them, none of them came close to being able to pleasure you with their clumsy mouths the way Caleb did. They were too rough or too tentative. They used too much tongue or too much of their teeth. They ignored your sweet aching clit or stroked it with too broad of a touch.
Each tryst left you feeling more disappointed. Unsatisfied. Unfulfilled. And no matter how much you tried to relieve yourself of the pent-up frustration building between your legs using your own unpracticed fingers, you couldn’t. It just wasn’t the same.
Which was how you found yourself back in his room, a textbook in your hands, under the false pretenses of wanting his assistance with Biochemistry, one innuendo leading to another until your study session devolved into him shirtless, pinning you down on his narrow bed with his strong, muscular body.
The muscles on his back delightfully rippled under your palms, a stark reminder of how much he’d grown since he left for college. Caleb had always been athletic and toned, but this…?
His hungry lips crushed yours with deep, bruising kisses, his hot breath mingling with yours, sweeping you away in a cloud of his irresistible cologne. You were light headed and woozy, drowning in a sea of everything Caleb, and you wondered how it was possible for you to come undone so quickly from his kisses alone.
“Fuck, Pipsqueak, the things ya do to me,” he huskily groaned, and just the sound of the thready throb in his voice had electricity jolting down your spine and buzzing in your sex.
One large, calloused hand slipped under your shirt, roughly groping your soft breasts and tweaking your firm nipples, and the other trailed up your quivering thigh and under your skirt, deft fingers sliding into your slick opening and curling against a part of you that had you moaning shamelessly and seeing stars.
He was kneading and pulling and pinching, and as you rocked your hips and arched your back, you thought it couldn’t just be Caleb who could make you feel this heavenly, surely there had to be someone out there who could make your body sing the way Caleb could?
The thought lingered in your mind afterwards for some time.
The next boy you dated felt promising. You weren’t his first girlfriend or his second or even his third. He was older than even Caleb, a senior mere months away from graduating with more experience in four years of college than you’d had in your entire life. He seemed kind and sweet, and he was… He was very sweet, but when you eagerly jumped into bed with him, desperate to feel what Caleb made you feel, you quickly realized he wasn’t very sweet at all.
He didn’t quite know what to do with his hands or his tongue or his dick, often skipping the foreplay and jackhammering away until he finished without any regard to whether you had cum at all, and as he moaned away, you found yourself squinting at the ceiling wondering if it truly was just Caleb who could make you cum.
You ached. Your body craved release, and no one, not even yourself, was able to give it to you the way Caleb did with just his hands and his mouth. It was like you were addicted, and no matter who you sought out, it seemed as though they would never be good enough compared to his honeyed touch.
You squirmed sitting in his room, despondent at how disappointing your dating life had been.
“So, how’s the boytoy?” Caleb asked, wiggling his eyebrows like the dumbass he was.
“Awful. We broke up.”
“Aww… why? He seemed nice.”
You sighed, dejectedly twisting your hair around your fingers, relishing the sting of pain on your scalp when you twisted too hard. “The sex sucked.”
“Ew, Pipsqueak. I don’t need to hear about your sex life.”
“Caleb, you’ve eaten me out and fingered me twice already. I think that ship has sailed,” you stated, finding his response immature and silly.
“Just doesn’t feel right.”
“That… that doesn’t make any sense.”
And it didn’t. It didn’t make any sense because this man had given you the most divine orgasms of your life and was grimacing at the thought of you having a sex life when the two of you had done practically everything, but actually fuck.
“Yea, I know.” He looked at you pointedly, something you couldn’t read flickering in his eyes. “I just don’t wanna hear about ya with other guys is all.”
You didn’t say anything. You weren’t sure how to interpret what he just said, but you didn’t dwell on it too deeply. You were occupied with the thoughts of yet another failed quest in finding someone other than Caleb to make you feel rapturous joy and whether perhaps… you were the problem.
You chewed on the inside of your cheek, twisting your hands together in your lap. “Hey, Caleb?”
“Yeah?”
“Why can’t anyone I date make me cum?”
Caleb observed you silently, the gears slowly turning in his head. “Is that why the sex sucked? Cause ya didn’t have an orgasm?”
“Yeah. The only person who’s been able to give me an orgasm is…” You swallowed thickly. “...is you.”
You whispered the last two words, your confession both humiliating and vulnerable because you didn’t know how Caleb would react. Would he mercilessly tease you like he always did? Or comfort you in a strange turn of events? Or would he… touch you again?
The silence was deafening.
You peeked at Caleb. He looked startled, frozen in place with his magical, immoral mouth hanging open. The tension hung in the air, heavy and palpable, and you waited with bated breath for him to react, to say or do something… anything…
Caleb broke into laughter, wild tremors shaking his stupid, sexy body, and you scowled, the irritation only Caleb could wrench from you bubbling to the surface. You opened your mouth to scathingly retaliate when Caleb wiped the tears from his eyes and cooed, “Aww… is my poor Pipsqueak frustrated? Come here. I’ll make it all better for ya.”
You wanted to vehemently refuse, but your body had a mind of its own, and you melted into Caleb’s embrace when he wrapped you in his arms because… well, who were you kidding really.
“I’m warning ya, though, Pipsqueak. Like I said, I’m bigger than six inches,” he whispered in your ear, his warm breath tickling your earlobe.
You gulped, your heart beating madly in your chest, the anticipation of what was to come flooding you with a blistering heat…
And before you could even process what was happening, you were naked, bracing yourself against the wall, and he was bullying his fat cock into your dripping cunt – and you were dripping because his scent alone drove you insane – stretching you deliciously open, and you gasped because… because, fuck, his cock was just simply godlike.
He wasn’t joking when he said he was bigger than six inches. He was the biggest you’d ever had, and every time his tip kissed your cervix, you keened, your fingernails digging into the standard, white paint of the dorms.
He rutted into you brutally, his broad palm shoving your head into the wall, and your hips bucked back to slam into his because you needed him deeper… harder…
“Shit, Pipsqueak, taking me so… well,” Caleb grunted, speaking erratically from the exertion. “Ya really… really aren’t a virgin… are ya?”
“That’s what I’ve… fuck… been saying… you… hah… you asshole!”
Tears stung your eyes because this… this was what you had been searching for… what you craved… what you had been missing in your life.
You were on fire, searing flames blazing into an uncontrollable inferno, ravaging your poor body until there was nothing left and you were shuddering… spasming… pathetically mewling Caleb’s name in strangled sobs.
“Ah, fuck, I can’t— I–” Caleb sputtered, and for the first time, you saw him lose control, and he shouted, “Fuck!” before spilling ribbon after ribbon of his cum into your drooling, convulsing cunt.
It was the first time you’d let someone finish inside of you, and you felt his essence filling you to the brim, creeping out from around his dick and down your quavering inner thighs. Fucking Caleb had been like having a taste of the forbidden fruit, and you smoldered with desire for more… more of the succulent rapture he’d shown you.
Caleb planted his lips on your shoulder, grazing the skin lightly with his teeth, electric sparks radiating from every part of you he touched, and in the depths of your hazy, post-bliss muddled mind, you heard him tauntingly say…
“Geez, Pipsqueak, if ya think that felt good, wait till ya see what I do next.”
#missaengg writes#kinktober#kinktober 2024#visions of temptation 2024#xia yizhou#lnds caleb#lads caleb#love and deepspace caleb#caleb#love and deepspace smut#lads smut#lnds smut#caleb x you#caleb x reader#love and deepspace#lads#lnds#lads fanfic#lnds fanfic#love and deepspace fanfic
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Be Sure Of It
Here we are with Eunha. In the end, I kept it as only her because I had this idea. Honestly, though, I may use the building mentioned for some other smuts. It would be pretty easy to insert other idols there and just have a universe around it. Also, it was a little tricky to write this because I had to think about whether to refer to Eunha using the stage name versus her real name.
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Eunha X Mreader
You waited nervously at the restaurant, tapping your fingers on the table as you waited for your date's arrival. You peered out the large windows, hoping to spot her; her profile was on your phone, so you didn’t mistake someone else for her. Then, you saw her across the street, her bag slung over her shoulder as she hurried towards you. Relief washed over you as you recognized her, and she noticed you, too, waving with a bright smile. She walked around the corner, stepped inside, and headed straight toward you. “Hi! I’m Eunbi; sorry for keeping you waiting!” She exclaimed, slightly out of breath, as she sat down and reached over the table to shake your hand.
“It’s nice to meet you too. I was a little worried you wouldn’t show up,” you admit, feeling a mix of relief and nervousness. Your heart was pounding, and you couldn't help but wonder if she felt the same way.
“I’d never no-show a date. It’s hard enough to get one with my job.”
You nod your head, trying to remember what her job was. “It was as a-”
“A health girl,” Eunbi interrupts, “I’m glad you remember,”
“Yeah, I tried to remember everything you had on your profile. I must have gone over it a hundred times before today.” You feel immediate embarrassment as those words leave your mouth, and you hang your head, feeling like you just made a big mistake.
Eunbi laughs, though, “Really? Were you that interested in me?” Looking up, you see Eunbi resting her head on her hand, her cheek squished.
“Um, yes,” You say quietly, feeling a warm flush spread across your cheeks as Eunbi's laughter fills the air. You could feel your cheeks turning red, and you were sure she could see it, too.
“Don’t be shy; that makes me pretty happy. I don’t get many matches because of my profession. Those that I do get usually only want one thing. So, what made you interested in me?
“I thought you were cute and saw all the pictures of you cosplaying. I thought it was cool.” You say shyly.
“Ah! You looked at them?!” The excitement in her voice was evident, “Which one was your favorite?”
“I liked you as Haruko from Slam Dunk,” you reply, pulling up the picture. “I liked your smile; you looked really happy in it.”
Eunbi purses her lips, trying to hide her smile. “Thanks,” she giggles. “No one really likes those old shows anymore, but I think they’re pretty fun.” You and Eunbi spent the date discussing old shows and sharing that interest. It was enjoyable; the two of you enjoyed sharing your thoughts about which shows should be remade and which should remain classics. As your time together came to a close, you ordered an ice cream and headed out the door together. You walked around, continuing your chat until you found yourselves in the city’s central park.
Eunbi came to a stop, sitting on a nearby bench and waiting for you to sit next to her. “Tonight has been really fun, and I want to go on another date.” She says quietly, her happy energy from earlier fading as she becomes serious. “But are you sure you are okay with dating someone like me? It’s just- I mean, a lot of guys say they’re okay with it, but they really aren’t. They try to get me to quit as soon as we’re together.” It’s clear to you this was something Eunbi had gone through multiple times; the anxiety in her voice and the fact she was staring at the ground the entire time she spoke was enough. “I-I just…”
“Eunbi, I’m okay with it.” You say, placing your hand on hers. Eunbi raises her head, turning to face you. “It must be hard on you, looking for someone, but I’m okay with you having that sort of job. I’ll never make you quit; that’s your decision.” You take a deep breath, “I’d like to take you on another date, Eunbi.”
Eunbi sniffles, and a small smile appears on her face. “Thanks for saying that, but,” she pulls her hand away and reaches into her bag, pulling out a small business card. “I think you should see me at work before you decide if you want to go on another date with me.” Eunbi pushes herself off the bench and stands up. “Anyway, thanks for tonight. I had a lot of fun. You know where to find me, " she says softly.
You rise slowly and walk over to Eunbi with the business card still in hand. “Yes, I do. Thanks for tonight, Eunbi.” You wrap your arms around her and hug her, feeling her arms hesitantly wrap around you before cinching in. After a moment, the two of you break apart and head separate ways for the night.
That night, you looked at the card before going to bed, feeling excited about the next step. You wanted to go on another date with Eunbi, so you had to visit her first. You notice the name change on it; she didn’t use her real name. She used Eunha.
A few nights passed when you decided to visit Eunbi at her workplace. While the place was open all day, Eunbi worked in the evenings and nights, so that’s when you had to go. It was in the red-light district. You weren’t familiar with it and wandered around, trying to find the place. Neon lights glowed from every building, painting the street with various colors. You continued past the barkers, trying to get you to walk into their establishment. You turn your head, viewing both sides so you won’t have to do another lap. Then you spotted it; it was a large building that took up an entire block. Much like the other buildings in the area, it bathed the street in bright pink neon lights. You cross the street, getting closer, when you notice the women dancing inside, inviting men to enter. They wore revealing outfits, from bunny suits and sexy maids to wedding dresses, with some just in lingerie. The ground level had them separated into their own rooms. You come to a stop, though, as you pass by a crowd; glancing at the window, you see one of the women having sex, fucking like a rabbit in heat with her breasts pressed against the glance. You pry your eyes away and look ahead, noticing she isn’t the only one. Other women in the rooms ahead were also having sex.
You refocused yourself and continued toward the entrance, heading inside and finding a similar situation, with women in rooms, some dancing and others having sex. On occasion, there would be room blacked out, giving you the hint that some people wanted to be watched. Once down the hall, you found a board of faces—a picture of a woman and their face on it. Some were greyed out, signifying they were with a client. “You have to put money in first, sir.” You hear from behind you. Turning around, you find a staff member sharply dressed in a suit behind the counter. The man repeats himself, pointing to the bottom left of the giant screen. You notice a smaller pad was there to take payment. “If you’d like any information about the ladies before choosing, please feel free to ask me.”
“Is Eunha here?” You ask nervously.
The staff member looked down at something before meeting your gaze and responding matter-of-factly, “Yes, she is. She is on the top left-hand side of the board.” You nod and pay for an hour's session before returning to the larger screen and looking for Eunha. You spot her picture at the top and press it, confirming your choice after.
“Good choice, sir. Here is your room key, " the staff member says, pulling out a keycard. “She is on the second floor; once up the stairs, go to the right side at the end of the hall, turn to the left, and she will be at the end of that hall.” The man extends his arm, showing you the staircase. You take the keycard and give the man a nod before heading up the spiral staircase, finding a large lounge with a couple of men sitting idly. You glance at the other two hallways before heading to the right. You feel your heart beat faster as you make the final turn and head to the end of the hall. You stand outside the door and take a deep breath before tapping the keycard and opening it. You step inside and find Eunha waiting on the other side. She’s in a school uniform that’s been cropped and is wrinkled. The skirt, if you could call it that at this point, ended a few inches from the waist. Eunha had on a pair of crotchless panties, and you could see how slick her thighs were with her; there was cum running down her legs. On the top half of her body was an open button-up shirt that she had tied together in a loose knot, her nipples poking through the thin fabric.
“Oh! It’s you!” Eunha says with a smile on her face. “You actually came.”
You nod, “I said I would.”
Eunha chuckles, “I guess you did.” You both stand there awkwardly, unable to continue. “Please have a seat.” Eunha moved back to the kingsized bed. She throws herself on it and pats the spot next to her. After sitting beside her, Eunha places her hand on your thigh. “I guess you can see what my last customer did to me,” Eunha says, looking between her legs. “I barely had time to get the room ready again.” She sighs, looking down at the floor and kicking her feet softly. “This is what I meant; I understand if you don’t want to date me. Who would want to have a girlfriend that’s constantly getting fucked by others.” You feel the sadness begin to seep through into her voice.
You shake your head, “Eunbi, I told you I don’t care. I knew that going into this, I’d have to be okay with you having this job. Look, I know we’ve just been on a single date, but I like you, and I want to see where this goes.”
“You mean that?” Eunha asks, her voice wavering. You nod at Eunha and place your other hand on hers. Though small, your action was enough to give Eunha some confidence in you. She sniffles before giving you a bright smile. “I guess we should get started then, right?”
“I guess so.” Eunha presses her lips against yours, pushing you onto the bed and straddling you. You feel the passion behind the kiss, the corners of her mouth pulled into a smile. She lifts your shirt past your arms and over your head. Eunha was confident in every action. She moved down slowly, raising her ass in the air as she worked at getting your pants down, unbuckling your belt, and unbuttoning your pants. She stares you down as she bites down on the zipper tab and pulls it down. You can see a growing hunger in her eyes as she crawls over you and steals another kiss from you. You feel her hands move down your side as she tries to pull your pants off you.
You help her get them off, along with your underwear. Eunha’s hand grasps your shaft, moving up and down slowly as she meets your gaze. “You’re already nice and hard for me.” She whispers, her grip growing tighter. You see her smile grow as you moan her name. Eunha moves her other hand down, cupping your balls. “These are so big and heavy. I haven’t eaten all day. You have a lot of cum for me, right?” She gives you a pout before moving down your body and pressing her face against your cock, letting the tip rest against her forehead. She kisses the shaft and takes in your scent before wrapping her hand around it again. Eunha shuts her eyes and presses her lips against the base of your cock, inching upward toward the tip. She was moving toward more sensitive areas, and with each kiss, precum leaks from the tip of your cock.
Finally reaching the tip, Eunha opens her eyes again. She smiles at you before pushing the tip against her lips, slowly spreading them and allowing you inside her warm mouth. You feel her tongue run up and down your shaft as she rubs the head against the inside of your cheek. Her hand strokes the base of your cock, ensuring you’re getting the most out of it. She pulls back slowly, letting her saliva drip onto your cock, her tongue sticking out.
Running her hand up and down your shaft, Eunha spreads her saliva across your cock. “This is going to be good,” she mutters, leaning down and wrapping her lips around your cock. You groan, enjoying as Eunha bobs her head, her tongue running along the underside of your shaft. You rest on your elbows, watching Eunha, noticing as she moves one hand down and fingers herself, occasionally pulling out to rub her clit. You place your hand on her head, earning you a glance from Eunha. She continued, slowly down and taking more of you in. You lean back and groan loudly as you feel yourself hit the back of her throat.
Eunha pulls back slowly, slobber running down her chin and onto your cock. She slaps herself with it, dirtying herself further. She strokes your cock quickly as she speaks, “You’re so close; I felt your cock twitch. You can cum whenever you want; you don’t even have to warn me. I’ll be able to drink it all up.” Eunha smiles at you before making your cock disappear again.
You struggle to hold on as her tongue lashes at the tip of your cock. Eventually, you’re forced to cum; you buck your hips upward into Eunha’s mouth and cum inside. She presses her hand against your pelvis, pushing you down as her lips form a seal around your cock, and she drinks every drop. She bobs her head slightly as you cool down from your climax. Eunha slowly comes to a halt and leaves your cock with a pop, “Ahh, that was so good,” She moans, licking her lips.
Eunha places her hand on your cock, stroking it to get you hard again. “That must’ve felt really good for you; you came a lot.”
“It was amazing,” you groan, her grip tightening as you get hard again.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it. Now it’s time for the best part.” Eunha straddles you, rubbing your cock between her folds as she aligns you to her entrance. She reaches forward, grabbing your hands and interlacing her fingers with yours as she lowers herself onto your cock. You slip in easily, her warm and slippery walls snuggly wrapping around your cock as she rests against your pelvis. Eunha’s soft moan fills the room, and you move up her body until you meet Eunha’s gaze. She gives you a soft smile that you can’t help but return. She keeps her hands with yours as she begins to bounce on your cock, soft moans flowing from her lips. Eunha leans against you, your hand holding becoming the only thing keeping her up. You lowered your eyes, noticing the knot that kept her shirt together come loose. Your eyes became glued to Eunha’s chest, watching her tits bounce as she rode you. “Ah, hold on,” she moaned, letting you off your hands to throw off her shirt. Eunha placed her hands on your chest and began moving again, her slow movements picking up speed with time. You placed your hands on her waist, holding her as she rode you. Eunha kept her eyes shut and threw her head back, groaning as she felt your cock go deep inside her. “You’re…going to… make me cum,” Eunha said, struggling to get her words out.
“I’m going to cum too.” You grunted, your cock throbbing against her tightening walls. You begin thrusting into Eunha, going deeper as your bodies collide. “I want us to cum together,” Eunha nods her head, biting her bottom lip as she nears her climax. You both cry out as you reach your peak; Eunha slams herself down on you, impaling herself on your cock and cumming with you. You pull Eunha into a kiss as she collapses on top of you, her chest heaving as you both slowly come down.
“That was amazing,” she says, still out of breath. Eunha unmounts you and places herself on your bicep, taking a few deep breaths before looking into your eyes as you lay there together.
“I’ve seen you at your work now. So I can ask you out on another date, right?” After a few minutes of staring into your eyes, her face turns red. She covers it with her hands and turns her back to you. “Eunbi? What’s wrong?” You ask, trying to turn her back around.
“It’s embarrassing!” She shouts into her hands.
“What?”
“Ahh! I said all those things in front of you!” Eunbi buries her face into the mattress and kicks her feet.
“Those things?” You ask curiously.
“Those things about your cock and balls. It’s so dirty!” You laugh at her answer, making her raise her head. “Don’t laugh! I only say those things here because people like to hear that!” She explains, her tiny fists knocking on your chest. “You’re never going to hear me repeat those things! They’re too embarrassing to say to someone I’m dating!”
You laugh again, enjoying how embarrassed she was. “So, does that mean we’re going on another date?” Eunbi pauses her tantrum, realizing what she said. She peers up at you, and you ask again, “Eunbi, would you like to go out on another date?”
Eunbi feels a warmth in her heart as she hears your question being asked so sincerely and nods. “I’d like that; yeah, let’s go on another date,” she says softly before embracing you. You spend the rest of your time lying together. When your time runs out, and you're forced to separate, Eunbi kisses you on the cheek. “I’ll text you, okay?”
“Yeah, of course.” You respond before kissing Eunbi one more time before you go. “Have a good day at work.” She smiles and waves as you shut the door behind you. You get home sometime past midnight and lay in bed. You couldn’t sleep, though; your body was filled with energy after your night with Eunbi. You thought you would feel tired, but that wasn't the case, and just as your mind began to drift, you got a single-word message from Eunbi.
“Breakfast?” It made you chuckle, and you agreed to meet her for breakfast in the morning. The two of you met for breakfast, chatting about old cartoons like you had on your first date. Eunbi felt content, happy to have found you, and hoping the relationship continues. The wariness of a new relationship was still on her mind, but seeing that you went further than many others had dared to, she felt a sense of comfort with you.
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hello i was reading your works and are really good may i request zeke x reader smut hc? Or warriors smut hc? thanks you
Warriors and how they fuck you
Zeke is a real beast. He plays dirty, teases you until you beg on your knees for him to touch you and fucks you until you nearly pass out from pleasure and exhaustion. This man does not show you any mercy when he pounds into you from behind. Real nipples play enjoyer and addict with your chest, Zeke is sucking on it like a leech until your breasts are covered in purple, red and blue marks. His favorite position is the doggy cause he likes to mate like an animal in heat. Bonus fact: Zeke often falls asleep with his head on your boobs, using them as a comfy pillow. Sometimes he even sleeps with one of your titties in his mouth, like a baby.
“What do you want? Sorry, did not hear you speaking.” “You like it when I touch you here, right? Yeah, that’s my good girl.” “Eh, you are already wet and I only touched your breasts? Needy brat.” “I said, I want to hear you beg for it…”
Reiner is a secret softie when it comes to making love. He’s pretty shy about the subject but all the embarrassment disappears once in the bedroom. This guy is a big cum eater and there is nothing better for him than you riding his face. He needs to feel your weight on his face and your wet cunt on his lips. Gets really whiny if you tease him because he’s such a needy man for you. He prefers traditional positions like the missionary when it comes to penetrative sex as he knows how to do them well. Also, a LOUD man. Whimpers and moans escape his lips non-stop, and he does not even hold them back. Bonus fact: he absolutely despites wearing condoms. Reiner says that they are uncomfortable and reduce his sensitiveness.
“You taste so fucking good. Could eat you out all day, baby.” “Hey, keep them spread for me, alright?” “Stop teasing and put it in already or I’m going to put it myself.” “God, you drive me crazy… pussy feels so tight and warm.”
Bertholdt the most lovey-dovey of the Warriors. He makes love to you like it’s described in a romantic book: slow and passionate. His thrusts are precise and gentle so you could feel every inch of his cock going in and out of your pussy. He often puts you legs on his shoulders and pulls your hips forward to hit the deepest parts of you. Bertholdt is a silent one, the only noise you can hear coming out of his is a gasping sound when he cums. He likes when you ride him, the view of your face twisting at the pleasure while you lower yourself on his dick drives him nuts. Bonus fact: foreplays can be very long with him because he takes the time to kiss all you sweet spots and caress every inch of your exposed skin.
“Does it feel good here? Need me to hit that spot again, uh?” “Can I move? Alright, I’m going slowly in.” “I’m gonna show you how much I love you tonight.” “Take a deep breath… yeah that’s my darling.”
Annie is not often in the mood for sex but when she is, she is giving her 110%. You are this woman’s dearest thing and that’s why she can’t help but praise you every time you do something good. Her cold hands run up and down your curves until her fingers reach your moist spot. Annie is gentle and soft with you, like if she is scared to hurt you by accident. Her hand works quickly but carefully on your genitals before she leans in to suck on it. Annie does not have a favorite position, but she prefers when she can see your face because it reassures her to see the pleasure of it. Bonus fact: She also likes to receive oral, soft sounds escaping her lips while your tongue works on her wet pussy.
“Yes, right here please. Feeling so good-” “You are so good for me. Fuck, I’m going to cum if you continue like this.” “Someone’s excited? Don’t lie, I can see the wet spot on your underwear.” “You are so needy, aren’t you?”
Porco is more of the mean and arrogant type. He’s always bragging out to his friends about how good he is at sex and how much you love it and it’s true. Porco is fucking you better than anybody could have. His thrusts are quick and harsh, hitting your cervix every time he moves into you. This man spanks your ass when you start to give him attitude or when you try to hold back your moans because there is nothing he loves more but hearing your voice. He enjoys making love to you against a wall, your legs and arms wrapped around his hips and shoulders while he lowers you into his cock. Bonus fact: Porco likes to spoil you by buying you sexy outfits to wear in the bedroom. He loves the way your cheeks turn red when you are standing in front of him in that red lacy lingerie he just bought you.
“So pretty for me sweetheart. Come closer.” “You like when I fuck you like that? Answer me, slut.” “Keep that pretty mouth of yours open, let me hear how much you like my cock.” “You need it so bad, it’s almost pathetic.”
#zeke x reader smut#zeke yeager smut#reiner x reader smut#reiner braun smut#bertholdt x reader smut#bertholdt hoover smut#annie x reader smut#annie leonhart smut#porco x reader smut#porco galliard smut#aot smut#aot#attack on titan smut#attack on titan#warriors#zeke smut#reiner smut#bertholdt smut#annie smut#porco smut
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𝓕OR THE 𝓕IRST 𝓣IME …
pairing : dean winchester x female!reader warnings : crying, friends to lovers, fluff, really light angst (squint and you’ll miss it), hunts, food mentions, reader has implied insomnia (self indulgent sorry) wc : 6.1k😈
the gravel crunched under the impala’s tires as dean pulled into the parking lot of yet another roadside diner. the neon sign buzzed faintly overhead, casting flickering hues of blue and pink over the impala’s sleek frame.
“another diner?” you teased, sliding out of the passenger seat. your boots hit the ground with a soft thud. “you know, there are other food groups besides pie.”
dean smirked, locking the car with a flick of his wrist. “and i’m sure you’ll tell me all about them, kid. but i don’t need food advice from someone who orders salad at a steakhouse.”
“first of all, that was only one time,” you shot back, walking alongside him toward the door. “and second, that salad was really really good.”
dean snorted, holding the door open for you. “whatever helps you sleep at night, darlin’.”
the diner was exactly what you expected: vinyl booths, laminate tables, and the comforting hum of an old jukebox in the corner. dean led the way to a booth by the window, sliding in across from you.
“so,” you started, picking up a menu. “are you gonna do that thing where you order half of what’s on the menu? or just pie and coffee?”
“both,” dean said without hesitation, his eyes skimming the options. “you know me. go big or go home.”
the waitress appeared moments later, all smiles and a notepad in hand. dean ordered two burgers and, of course, pie. you went with something lighter, which earned you a raised brow.
“you sure that’s enough?” he asked once the waitress left. “you’re gonna get hungry and start eyeing my fries. i can feel it.”
“i am perfectly capable of ordering my own food, thanks.”
“we’ll see.”
the food arrived faster than expected, and you fell into easy conversation, catching up on the day’s events. the current hunt had been straightforward so far - just a basic salt-and-burn. still, you weren’t exactly looking forward to it. you never where when it came to hunts, they were more dean’s speciality. the looming anxiety and sense of impending doom wasn’t ever remotely enjoyable for you.
“so, what’s the plan for tomorrow?” you asked, grabbing a fry from your plate. “wrap this one up and hit the road?”
“probably,” dean replied between bites. “unless we get more intel on that death omen case. sam thinks there’s a connection between the two.”
“of course he does,” you said with a laugh. “guy can’t take a win without overthinking it.”
“hey, that overthinking saves our asses sometimes,” dean pointed out, though his tone was more fond than annoyed.
“true. but it also gets him hexed.” you grinned. “remember that time with the chickens?”
dean barked out a laugh, nearly choking on his drink. “oh man, that was gold. i think we have a picture of him running from that rooster somewhere.”
“we should frame it,” you said, smirking. “hang it in the bunker’s library for motivation.”
“you’re evil, you know that?” he remarked, his smug grin widening further.
“takes one to know one,” you shot back, plucking the cherry off of his slice of pie and popping it into your mouth.
your conversations were effortless, the kind of back-and-forth that felt like second nature at this point. it wasn’t until dean reached over and grabbed one of your fries that you gave him a look.
“you’ve got two whole plates,” you said, swatting his hand away.
“what can i say?” he replied, popping the fry into his mouth with zero shame. “yours taste better.”
before you could respond, the waitress returned to drop off the check. she hesitated for a second, then smiled warmly.
“you two are such a cute couple,” she said, her voice casual but sincere.
you froze, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.
“we are not a couple,” you blurted out, at the exact same time dean said, “yeah, never.”
the waitress blinked, clearly taken aback by your synchronized response. “oh, uh, sorry! my mistake.”
she hurried off, and you stared after her, still processing what just happened.
“well, that wasn’t awkward at all,” dean muttered, reaching for his coffee.
“why does this keep happening?” you asked, more to yourself than to him.
“beats me,” dean said with a shrug, though you caught the flicker of something in his expression - amusement, maybe? “guess we just give off the vibe.”
“the vibe?” you echoed.
“you know.” he waved a hand between the two of you. “like… a vibe.”
“that explains nothing.”
“then i guess it can just be one of life’s great mysteries, sweetheart.”
you tried to let it go, but the waitress’s comment lingered in the back of your mind. it wasn’t the first time someone had assumed you and dean were a couple, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. still, it felt… different this time.
you glanced across the table at dean. he was back to his usual self, leaning against the booth with a lazy grin and a smart remark on the tip of his tongue.
he caught you staring and raised an eyebrow. “what?”
“nothing,” you said quickly, looking away. “just thinking.”
“about what?”
“the hunt,” you lied.
he didn’t press, but you could feel his gaze lingering for a moment longer before he turned his attention back to the check.
“you ready to hit the road?” he asked, sliding out of the booth.
“yeah,” you said, grabbing your jacket. “let’s go.”
the drive back to the motel was quiet, the hum of the impala’s engine filling the silence. dean had turned on the radio, and metallica’s prince charming filtered through the speakers. you leaned your head against the window, watching the dark countryside blur past.
“why are you being so damn quiet?” dean said after a while. “i know i’m always complaining about it but it really doesn’t feel right when you’re not yapping my ear off.”
“‘m just tired,” you replied, though that wasn’t entirely true. your mind was still replaying the waitress’s words and the way dean had brushed them off so easily.
“well, get some rest,” he said, his voice softer now. “we’ve got a long day tomorrow.”
“okay, dean.” you nodded, letting your eyes drift shut as baby rumbled on.
the next morning, you were back on the road, this time heading toward a small, rundown cemetery. the salt-and-burn had gone smoothly, but the death omen case was proving to be trickier than expected.
“so what are we looking for?” you asked as dean parked the car near the edge of the cemetery, trying to rub your eyes subtly so he wouldn’t notice your fatigue.
“old journal entries mentioned a spirit tied to a cursed locket,” he said, grabbing his duffel bag. “we find the locket, we find the spirit.”
“sounds easy enough,” you said, though you both knew it rarely was.
the two of you spent the next hour combing through the overgrown graves, your flashlights cutting through the dark.
“anything?” dean called out from a few rows over.
“not yet,” you replied, brushing aside some vines. “but this place gives me the creeps.”
“aww, don’t tell me you’re scared, sweetheart,” dean teased, his grin audible even from a distance.
“you wish,” you shot back, though you couldn’t deny the way your nerves prickled.
as you moved to another section of the cemetery, you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone - or something - was watching you.
“dean,” you called out, your voice quieter now.
“yeah? you okay, sweetheart?” his voice softer now, a hint of panic sneaking through.
“i think we’ve got company.”
he was at your side in an instant, his flashlight sweeping the area. “stay close,” he said, his tone serious now.
you nodded, your heart pounding as the shadows seemed to close in around you. whatever was out there, you had a feeling this hunt was about to get a whole lot messier.
the night was heavy with an unnatural stillness, the kind that made your skin crawl. somewhere deep in the shadows of the cemetery, you just knew something was watching you.
you stayed close to dean as the two of you scanned the overgrown headstones, flashlights cutting through the darkness.
“you hear that?” you whispered, your voice barely carrying over the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze.
“hear what?” dean replied, his gaze darting around.
then it came again - a low, guttural moan, echoing through the cemetery like a warning.
“that,” you said, gripping the iron crowbar in your hand a little tighter.
dean’s jaw tensed. “stay behind me,” he muttered, pulling out his gun.
“you know i’m not great at staying behind,” you quipped, though your attempt at humor fell flat against the weight of the moment.
“yeah, i noticed,” he said, flashing you a wry grin despite the tension. “but humor me, darlin’. just this once.”
the two of you moved cautiously toward the source of the sound, your flashlights dancing over moss-covered graves and weathered stone angels. the air grew colder the closer you got, your breath puffing out in visible clouds.
then you saw it - a faint, ghostly figure hovering near an old, crumbling mausoleum. its features were obscured, but its presence was anything but subtle.
“that’s gotta be our spirit,” dean said, his voice low.
“looks like it’s guarding something,” you observed, nodding toward the mausoleum door.
“the locket,” dean guessed.
“how do we get past that thing without getting our faces ripped off?”
“i distract it, you grab the locket,” he said simply, like it was the most obvious plan in the world.
“oh, sure,” you said, rolling your eyes. “because splitting up always works so well for us.” when you looked up at, him he finally noticed the twinge of fear in your tired gaze.
“trust me, sweetheart,” dean said, flashing you a soft smile he hoped appeared reassuring. “i’ve got this.”
against your better judgment, you let dean take the lead. he stepped into the spirit’s line of sight, his gun raised.
“hey, casper!” he called out. “over here!”
the ghost turned toward him, its hollow eyes locking onto his figure. it let out an unearthly wail that sent chills down your spine, then began moving toward him with an unnatural speed.
“anytime now!” dean shouted, firing a round of rock salt to slow it down.
you darted toward the mausoleum, shoving the heavy door open with all your strength. inside, the air was damp and musty, the faint smell of decay clinging to the walls.
your flashlight landed on an old wooden box sitting atop a stone altar. you didn’t have time to think - you grabbed the box and pried it open, revealing the cursed locket inside.
“got it!” you called out, stuffing the locket into your pocket and running back toward dean.
the ghost was still focused on him, though it was clearly losing its patience. dean fired another shot of rock salt, sending it reeling.
“move it, kid!” he yelled, glancing back at you.
“i’m coming!” you shouted, skidding to a halt beside him.
together, you pulled out matches and a small jar of accelerant. you didn’t waste a second, dousing the locket and striking a match.
the moment the flames touched the cursed object, the ghost let out a piercing scream, its form disintegrating into a shower of sparks before disappearing entirely.
“well, that was fun,” dean said, lowering his gun.
“yeah, a real blast,” you replied, still catching your breath.
he turned to you, his expression softening slightly. “you okay?”
“yeah,” you said, nodding. “thanks for the save.”
“always,” he said with a small smile, clapping you on the shoulder. “come on, let’s get out of here before something else decides to show up.”
the drive back to the motel was quieter than usual. the adrenaline from the hunt had worn off, leaving you both exhausted.
“you’re really bad at staying behind,” dean said suddenly, breaking the silence.
“and you’re really bad at not playing the hero,” you shot back.
he glanced at you, his expression somewhere between exasperation and fondness. “you’re gonna get yourself killed one day, you know that?”
“not if you’re around to save me,” you said lightly, though there was an edge of truth to your words.
he didn’t reply, but the way his grip on the steering wheel tightened said enough.
back at the motel, you both collapsed onto your respective beds, the exhaustion from the hunt settling into your bones. the cheap, scratchy sheets were far from comfortable, but you barely noticed, too tired to care.
“you want first shower?” dean asked, already kicking off his boots and wincing at the creak of the bed frame beneath him.
“you take it,” you mumbled, waving him off and stifling a yawn. “i’ll just... lie here for a sec.”
he paused, giving you a look. “you good? you’ve been dragging all day.”
“just tired,” you said quickly, forcing a small smile. “nothing a shower and some sleep won’t fix.”
dean didn’t seem convinced. “you sure? you’ve been looking... kinda rough.” his voice was softer now, almost hesitant. “when’s the last time you actually got a decent night’s sleep?”
“i sleep,” you said, avoiding his gaze by focusing on the ceiling.
“yeah, but do you sleep?” he pressed, gesturing vaguely with one hand. “like, real sleep. out cold. no tossing and turning. none of that zombie stuff.”
“i’m fine, dean,” you said firmly, though your voice lacked any real bite.
he lingered for a moment longer, clearly unconvinced but unsure what else to say. eventually, he grabbed a towel and disappeared into the bathroom with a quiet, “if you say so.”
the sound of the shower running filled the silence, but your mind was louder. it wasn’t that you didn’t want to sleep - it was just that you couldn’t. not really. the hunts, the adrenaline, the nightmares - they all tangled together into a mess you couldn’t quite escape.
you stared at the water-stained ceiling, your thoughts drifting back to the hunt and, inevitably, to dean. the way he’d thrown himself between you and that ghost without hesitation, his instincts sharper than anyone you’d ever met. it wasn’t just about the hunt; it was about him.
you sighed, shaking your head at yourself. this wasn’t the time to overthink things.
when dean emerged from the bathroom, steam trailing after him, his hair damp and sticking up at odd angles, you were still lying in the same spot.
“your turn,” he said, tossing a towel onto your bed.
you groaned, forcing yourself to sit up. “if i fall asleep in there, it’s your fault.”
he smirked, stretching out on his bed and crossing his arms behind his head. “just don’t drown, sweetheart.”
rolling your eyes, you dragged yourself into the bathroom, the hot water doing wonders for your sore muscles and the lingering chill from the hunt. by the time you came out, the room was dark, and dean was already passed out, one arm draped over his face.
you stood there for a moment, watching the rise and fall of his chest, his face relaxed in a way you rarely got to see.
“goodnight, dean,” you murmured softly, pulling a blanket over yourself as you sank onto your bed.
as you lay there, the quiet hum of the motel settling around you, you tried to let the exhaustion take over. but your thoughts wouldn’t quiet, your body still on edge despite how tired you were.
at some point, dean shifted, his voice groggy but unmistakable. “you okay?”
“yeah,” you lied, turning onto your side to face the wall.
“you sure?” his voice was softer now, thick with sleep.
“get some rest, dean,” you mumbled, not trusting yourself to say more.
“right back at you,” he muttered, the faintest hint of concern lingering in his tone before his breathing evened out again.
you closed your eyes, willing yourself to follow his lead, even as your thoughts refused to let you.
a storm rolled in by the time you and dean reached the next job. thick, gray clouds churned overhead as rain hammered against the impala's windshield, the wipers working overtime. the cabin in question - a decrepit thing that looked more haunted than it probably was - loomed at the end of a dirt road.
"of course it's in the middle of nowhere," you muttered, peering at it through the rain.
"yeah, because monsters love suburban neighborhoods," dean said, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he parked the car.
you snorted, unbuckling your seatbelt. "remind me again why we couldn’t tackle this in daylight?"
"because the kid who called us swears the thing only shows up at night," he replied, grabbing his shotgun and tossing you a flashlight. "come on, sweetheart. we’ve got work to do."
the inside of the cabin was worse than the outside. peeling wallpaper, creaky floors, and an unsettling number of broken mirrors made up the interior.
"i'm guessing the shattered mirrors aren't just bad decorating choices," you said, shining your flashlight across the room.
"nope," dean said. "sounds like we're dealing with a vengeful spirit. probably tied to one of these." he gestured to the shards of glass littering the floor.
"great," you muttered. "so, we find the mirror, salt it, and burn it. easy enough."
"you say that now," dean said, smirking as he headed toward the stairs. "but nothing's ever that easy, is it?"
you split up to cover more ground - though not without a bit of grumbling on your part. it was horrible hunting without dean, the anxiety looming over you multiplying by a thousand. the cabin had two floors, plus a creepy basement you were hoping to avoid.
"why do i always get stuck with the creepy basements?" you whined after him as he ascended the stairs.
"because you're the rookie," dean shot back, his grin audible even from a distance.
"oh, real mature," you muttered, making your way toward the basement door, sucking in as many deep breaths as you could manage.
the basement was every bit as awful as you’d imagined. damp, dark, and filled with cobwebs. your flashlight flickered as you descended the creaking stairs, and you swore under your breath.
"if this thing jumps out at me, i’m leaving dean to deal with it solo," you muttered to yourself, sweeping the light across the room.
you spotted an old, ornate mirror leaning against the far wall. it was cracked but still intact - a likely candidate for the spirit's anchor.
"dean, i found something," you said into the walkie-talkie dean had insisted you carry.
"copy that," came his reply. "on my way down. don't touch it."
"wasn't planning on it, boss," you said, rolling your eyes even though he couldn’t see you.
dean joined you a minute later, shotgun in hand. he gave the mirror a once-over, his expression hardening.
"yep, that's the one," he said. "you got the salt?"
you nodded, pulling the bag from your backpack.
"good. i'll cover you," he said, positioning himself between you and the dark corners of the basement.
"you know, for someone who calls me a rookie, you sure don’t trust me to handle things on my own," you teased, pouring the salt over the mirror.
"nah, i trust you," he said, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "just don’t want you getting yourself killed. i'd miss you too much."
the comment caught you off guard, and you glanced at him, trying to gauge if he was serious. but before you could say anything, the temperature in the room plummeted.
a figure materialized behind dean - a translucent woman with hollow eyes and a twisted expression of rage.
"dean!" you shouted, and he spun around just in time to fire a round of rock salt at her. the spirit screeched, vanishing into thin air.
"you okay?" he asked, turning back to you.
"yeah," you said, your heart pounding. "but she’s definitely not gone for good."
"not until we burn this thing," dean said, nodding toward the mirror.
you struck a match, lighting the accelerant you’d poured over the salt. the mirror went up in flames, and another anguished wail echoed through the basement before fading into silence.
back upstairs, you and dean collapsed onto the dusty couch, both of you breathing heavily.
"you know," you said, leaning your head back, "for a rookie, i think i did pretty well tonight."
dean chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "yeah, you didn’t screw up too bad."
"high praise," you said, feeling fatigue spread over you once more.
he glanced at you, his expression softening in that way that always caught you off guard. "i mean it," he said. "you did good, sweetheart."
you couldn’t tell if it was the exhaustion or the way he said it, but something about the moment felt different. heavier.
"thanks," you said softly, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze.
before either of you could say anything else, the walkie-talkie crackled to life.
"hey, uh, guys?" sam’s voice came through, tinged with static. "you alive down there?"
"barely," dean replied, grabbing the device. "but the spirit's toast. we'll meet you back at the motel."
"got it," sam said.
the drive back was quiet again, but this time, it wasn’t just the exhaustion. something unspoken lingered between you, making the silence feel heavier than usual.
"so," you said finally, breaking the tension. "you think sam's gonna be mad we didn’t wait for him?"
"nah," dean said, though his smirk suggested otherwise. "he’s used to it by now."
you laughed, shaking your head. "poor guy."
"hey, he knew what he was signing up for," dean said. "besides, he’s probably just glad you didn’t burn the whole cabin down."
"oh, so now i’m a fire hazard?"
"just saying, i’ve seen you with matches," he teased, and you couldn’t help but laugh again.
back at the motel, sam was already poring over research for the next hunt.
"how’d it go?" he asked, barely looking up.
"spirit's gone," dean said, flopping onto one of the beds. "but the place was a real fixer-upper."
"great," sam said, clearly not listening.
"you know, you’re a terrible audience," you said, plopping down beside dean.
sam hummed distractedly, still scrolling through his laptop.
"don’t take it personally, sweetheart," dean said, grinning at you. "he’s just jealous he missed all the action."
you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. despite the exhaustion, there was a strange warmth settling in your chest, one you weren’t quite ready to examine too closely.
later that night, after sam had gone to bed, you and dean found yourselves sitting outside the motel, the night air cool and refreshing after the storm.
“you still can’t sleep, huh? we really gotta get that checked out.” dean uttered, breaking the silence. “c’mon kid, what’s got your mind going so crazy?”
"you ever think about, you know, taking a break?" you asked, staring up at the stars, surprised with how he could always clock you so quickly.
"from hunting?" dean asked, raising an eyebrow.
"yeah," you said. "just... doing something normal for once."
he snorted. "normal’s overrated."
"come on," you said, nudging him with your elbow. "you’ve never thought about it? not even a little?"
he was quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "maybe," he admitted finally. "but normal’s not in the cards for people like us."
"i guess not," you said softly, though you couldn’t help but wish it were different.
the conversation faded into a comfortable silence, the kind that didn’t need to be filled.
"you know," dean said after a while, "you’re not half bad at this whole hunting thing."
"high praise," you said, smiling faintly.
"i mean it," he said, his tone more serious than you expected. "you’ve got guts. most people wouldn’t last a week in this life, but you - "
he stopped, shaking his head like he wasn’t sure how to finish the thought.
"but me?" you prompted, your heart pounding for reasons you didn’t quite understand.
"but you’re different," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.
you didn’t know what to say to that, so you didn’t say anything. instead, you let the moment hang between you, heavy and unspoken but somehow perfect in its own way.
the next hunt came quicker than expected - barely two days after the cabin job. a string of disappearances in a sleepy town near a dense forest had drawn your attention. while sam was still digging through lore, you and dean decided to scout the area.
"we’ll take the impala and check out the woods," dean had said, tossing you your jacket.
"because that worked so well last time," you quipped, zipping up your coat.
"what can i say?" he said with a smirk. "i like to live dangerously."
the forest was eerily quiet as the two of you trudged along a narrow dirt path. the afternoon sunlight barely filtered through the thick canopy of leaves above, casting the area in a dim, golden haze.
"you know," you said, stepping over a fallen branch, "i don’t think i’ve ever seen you willingly go for a hike. kind of nice to see you in your natural habitat."
dean shot you a look. "i’ll have you know i’m very outdoorsy."
"oh, sure," you said, grinning. "nothing says 'man of the wilderness' like a guy who packs cheeseburgers for every meal."
"hey, those cheeseburgers keep me alive," he said, pretending to be offended. "besides, you’re one to talk. what’s in your backpack right now? candy bars?"
"no comment," you said, giggling as he shook his head.
you reached a clearing after about an hour of walking. the ground was covered in strange markings - symbols carved into the dirt, arranged in an ominous circle.
"well, that’s not creepy at all," you muttered, crouching to get a closer look.
dean knelt beside you, his brow furrowed. "witchcraft, maybe?"
"maybe," you said. "but why the forest? wouldn’t a house or barn make more sense?"
"maybe they like the fresh air," he said, scanning the area with his flashlight. "either way, we need to be careful. whoever’s behind this probably doesn’t want us poking around."
"yeah, no kidding," you said, standing up and brushing dirt off your hands.
the rest of the day was spent investigating the clearing, but the markings didn’t offer many clues. frustrated, you and dean decided to head back to the motel.
"we’ll regroup with sam, see if he’s found anything," dean said as you walked back to the car.
"do you think this one’s human?" you asked, wide eyed with expectation.
he glanced at you, his jaw tight. "maybe. but something about it feels... off. i don’t like it."
you nodded, falling silent. his instincts were rarely wrong, and if dean was uneasy, you knew better than to dismiss it.
back at the motel, sam had made some progress.
"the symbols in the clearing - they’re part of a summoning ritual," he explained, showing you a dusty old book.
"great," dean said, flopping onto the bed. "so, what are we dealing with? demons? spirits? something worse?"
sam hesitated, glancing between the two of you. "it’s a summoning ritual for a wendigo."
your stomach dropped.
"a wendigo?" you repeated. "seriously?"
"yeah," sam said grimly. "and if the markings in that clearing are any indication, they’re close to finishing the ritual."
"perfect," dean muttered, rubbing a hand over his face.
the plan was simple: return to the forest, disrupt the ritual, and kill the wendigo if it had already been summoned.
"simple," you said, your tone dry as you loaded your shotgun.
"hey, it’s worked before," dean said, smirking as he handed you a flare gun.
"yeah, and almost got us killed before," you shot back, though you couldn’t help the fearful expression that broke out on your face.
"what can i say?" he said, shrugging. "we’re good at not dying."
the forest felt different this time - heavier, like the air itself was charged with something dark and unnatural.
"stay close," dean said, his voice low.
"i definitely wasn’t planning on wandering off," you replied, gripping your shotgun tightly.
he shot you a quick glance, his expression softer than you expected. "just... stay close, okay?"
"okay," you said quietly, feeling your heart skip a beat.
the clearing was empty when you arrived, but the symbols on the ground glowed faintly, pulsing with an eerie red light.
"that’s new," dean said, his jaw tightening.
"you think the ritual’s already started?" you asked.
"probably," he said, scanning the area. "we need to move fast."
you started disrupting the symbols, kicking dirt over them while dean poured salt and lighter fluid around the edges.
"almost done," you said, glancing over at him.
but before he could respond, a bloodcurdling roar echoed through the forest.
"guess that answers that," dean muttered, raising his shotgun.
the wendigo burst into the clearing, its pale, emaciated form moving with unnatural speed.
"stay back!" dean shouted, firing a shot that barely slowed it down.
you raised your flare gun, aiming for its chest, but the creature was too fast. before you could fire, it lunged at dean, knocking him to the ground.
"dean!" you screamed, panic surging through you.
he rolled out of the way just in time, his shotgun skidding across the ground.
"shoot it!" he shouted, and you didn’t hesitate.
the flare hit the wendigo square in the chest, igniting it in a burst of flames. it screeched, thrashing wildly before collapsing into a smoldering heap.
dean scrambled to his feet, his breathing ragged.
"you okay?" you asked, rushing to his side.
"yeah," he said, wincing as he rolled his shoulder. "you?"
"fine," you said, though your hands were still trembling.
he gave you a once-over, his eyes lingering on yours. "you did good, sweetheart."
the drive back was quiet, the adrenaline slowly fading. when you finally reached the motel, sam was waiting anxiously.
"did you - "
"it’s dead," dean said, cutting him off.
sam sighed in relief, but his attention quickly shifted to the way dean’s hand lingered protectively on your waist as you headed inside.
later that night, as you sat outside the motel again, dean joined you, a beer in hand.
"that was really scary. are you sure you’re okay?” you admitted, breaking the silence.
"‘m fine, sweetheart,” he said, his tone soft.
"i know," you said, glancing at him. "but still."
he met your gaze, something unspoken passing between you. "you know, you’ve got guts," he said, echoing his words from before.
"so you’ve said," you replied, smiling faintly.
he shook his head, his expression turning serious. "i mean it. you’re different. special."
your breath caught, and for a moment, you couldn’t speak.
"dean - "
"just let me say it," he said, cutting you off.
you nodded, your heart pounding.
"i’ve been doing this job a long time," dean said, his voice low, almost like he was thinking out loud. "and i’m not exactly the kind of guy who’s good at this stuff, but… i like you. more than i probably should."
your heart skipped a beat, your breath catching in your throat, but you stayed quiet, letting him keep going.
"it’s not just because you’re super fucking cool or because you can keep up with me," he added, a small smirk tugging at his lips before fading. "it’s because you’re the one person who makes all this crap we deal with feel… worth it."
his gaze locked on yours, steady and serious. "i don’t know what that says about me, but i know i don’t want to screw this up."
tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you bit your lip, refusing to let them fall.
"i… i don’t know what to say," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding in your chest.
"you don’t have to say anything," he replied, his lips twitching into a small, nervous smile.
but you did anyway. "i feel the same way, dean," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
his lips quirked into a small smile. "yeah, baby?"
"yeah," you said, and before you could overthink it, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his.
the first kiss had barely ended, and you still felt breathless, the taste of him lingering like honey. you pulled back just enough to meet dean’s eyes, your hands still clutching the front of his jacket as if letting go wasn’t an option. he looked at you with a softness that felt rare, his usual bravado replaced by something raw, unguarded.
"so," you began, trying to find words that didn’t feel ridiculous in a moment like this, "i - "
but dean leaned in again, cutting you off with another kiss, this one slower but somehow even more consuming.
"dean," you mumbled against his lips, trying to catch a breath, but his hands cupped your jaw, tilting your face up toward him as if the conversation could wait - like anything else in the world could matter right now.
"mm-hmm?" he hummed, not pulling back. his mouth moved to the corner of your lips, then your cheek, trailing down to your jaw.
"i’m trying to - " you started again, only to dissolve into laughter as he pressed a kiss to the spot just below your ear, his stubble grazing your skin in a way that sent a shiver down your spine.
"nah, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice low and teasing. "you’re not trying to do anything but stay right here."
you laughed harder, the sound bright and almost giddy, your chest shaking against his. you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this light, this happy.
"dean," you said again, still giggling, "let me talk!"
"nope," he said, his grin audible even as he kissed the side of your neck. "’m way too busy."
"dean!" you squealed, trying to push him back, but he was relentless, his arms wrapping around your waist to keep you close.
"what could possibly be more important than this?" he asked, finally pulling back just enough to look at you. his smile was cocky, but his eyes were warm, filled with a tenderness that made your stomach flip.
you opened your mouth to respond, but instead, a strange mix of a laugh and a sob came out, and suddenly you were crying - just a little, just enough that he noticed.
his face changed immediately, his smile dropping as he cupped your face with both hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had escaped.
"hey," he said softly, his brows knitting together. "what’s wrong? fuck… ‘m sorry baby, i - "
you shook your head quickly, the absurdity of the question making you laugh again, even as more tears fell. "no, no, it’s not that. i’m not upset, i swear."
"you’re crying, sweetheart," he said, his voice low and concerned. "that usually means something’s wrong."
"i’m happy, you idiot," you said, laughing through the tears.
he blinked, his hands still holding your face, as if trying to process the words. "happy?"
"yes, happy," you said, your voice cracking a little as he wiped at your cheeks. "like... stupidly, ridiculously happy. i just - i didn’t think this would ever happen."
his expression softened in a way that made your heart ache. "you really thought i wouldn’t want this?"
"i didn’t know," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "i mean, it’s not like you’re exactly forthcoming with your feelings, dean."
he let out a breathy laugh, his forehead pressing gently against yours. "yeah, well, you’re not wrong there."
his hands slid down to your waist, holding you close as he looked at you, his green eyes searching your face like he was trying to commit every detail to memory.
"but for the record," he said, his voice serious now, "this? you? it’s all i’ve wanted for a long time."
your breath caught, and before you could respond, he was kissing you again, his lips soft but insistent, as if he was making up for lost time.
this time, you didn’t try to pull back or say anything. you just let yourself fall into it, your fingers tangling in his hair as his hands slid up your back, holding you like you might disappear if he let go.
when he finally broke the kiss, his lips barely left yours, and he stayed close enough that you could feel his breath against your skin.
"still happy?" he asked, a teasing edge creeping back into his voice.
you laughed, your forehead resting against his. "stupidly, ridiculously happy."
"good," he said, his hands slipping under the hem of your shirt to rest against your waist, his touch warm and grounding. "because i’m not letting you go now, sweetheart."
"bold of you to assume i’d want you to," you teased, smiling up at him.
"damn right," he said, his grin returning as he leaned in for another kiss, and this time, you didn’t even try to stop him.
ᰔ dean winchester : @person-005
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