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endlessthxxghts · 1 year ago

Text

Need You

Husband!Frankie Morales x wife!afab!reader || W/C: ��5k

Summary: Tío Santi comes to the rescue when Frankie confides in him about how the two of you have been way too busy for one another.

Warnings: Crazy events of Triple Frontier don't happen; let's just give these guys some happiness. Instead of coke, Frankie’s drug is you (LMAOOO). No “y/n.” No physical descriptions of reader (besides clothing choices), she looks like you😏 and big strong man Frankie can carry you <333. Reader knows a bit of Spanish. SMUT 18+ MDNI. Oral sex (f receiving). Unprotected P in V sex. Slow and sloppy😵‍💫. Breeding kink. Domestic kink (they get really spurred on calling each other husband and wife/esposo y esposa). Possessive kink. Daddy kink (but in the sense that reader just loves seeing Frankie as a Dad and wants to give more babies to parent!!!). Pussy slapping... Cum play/eating. Vaginal fingering/fucking. Squirting. Slight Dom!Frankie (he just really wants to hear his wife beg for his cum!!). Mentions of shower ✨activities✨. A lot of love basically — physically and emotionally. Extra warning for the parents who can’t leave their child with other people — Tío Santi takes their baby out to eat and get treats; she’s in good hands, I promise!!!

A/N: Husband Frankie is rotting my brain bad. Especially girl dad!Frankie. My ovaries are screaming. So here's this little 5k bad boy I whipped up. This is very much a porn with a bit of (yummy domestic) plot. Hope y’all enjoy. Thank you to my sweet sweet bae @javierpena-inatacvest for proof-reading this and hyping me up since it’s my first Frankie story to be posted! I love you so much 🥹🥹💚 (edit: someone had a comment about why Isa is amorcito instead of amorcita, so in case you had that question as well, read my explanation here!)

MASTERLIST || NOTIF BLOG

“Querida, I’m home!” Frankie called out.

“In Isa’s room, baby!” you responded.

Santi tagged along on his treck home today, offering to take Isa out for lunch and sweets after Frankie told him how both of you have been crazy busy lately. He helps himself to the kitchen while Frankie makes his way to you.

Frankie lightly knocks on the door before entering, gasping out in delight to earn a bubbly reaction from his three year old daughter. “Ay, mi esposa (my wife),” he exclaims, giving you a soft kiss to your lips. He looks to his daughter and grabs her from you, “y mi amorcito (and my little love),” he says, throwing her up in the air, coaxing a few more giggles out of her.

He sets her back down to play with her toys, and Frankie turns to you, pulling you in for a proper hello. Your lips slot against each other in a needy embrace, still as reserved as you two can be with your child in the room. He pulls away first, arms not leaving your waist. “Hi, mama,” he says with an adoring smile. “Hi, honey,” you respond, heart still skipping a few beats as if it’s your first time meeting him. He guides you to outside the doorway, closing Isa’s room ajar, so you both are out of her view.

“Santi’s here,” he tells you. “He offered to, uh, take Isa out to get food and some dessert,” he adds nonchalantly, trying to gauge your reaction. It’s been three years since your baby was born, and still you’re always reluctant to leave her with others. It’s not that you don’t trust the people you leave her with, it’s the fact that if anything were to happen — Gods forbid — you wouldn’t be able to be there, to comfort and protect her.

Your eyebrow raises in response. He squeezes you tighter into him, ducking closer to your ear. “And I was thinking,” he kisses the sweet spot near your pulse point, “we could take some time for ourselves?” He continues kissing and nipping at your neck, uttering a small please baby as he makes his way back to your lips.

Little did Frankie know, you didn’t need any convincing at all. You were just about ready to drop her off at your parents as soon as he got home from work today. You don’t tell him though. You like hearing him be a little desperate for you.

His hand skates lower to your ass, the other hand making its way to cup your front. “It’s been weeks, baby, I need to taste her,” he says, damn near a whine.

You grab both sides of his face and pull him into a searing kiss. “Go pack her bag,” you whisper as you pull away from his grasp, making your way to Santi to give him the rundown.

In record time, Frankie packs Isa’s go bag in under five minutes: diapers, extra change of clothes, baby wipes, baby Benadryl, and some of her comfort snacks just in case she’s extra picky today. He picks up his baby, assessing if she needs a diaper change — she’s dry — and heads to the kitchen. “Wanna hang with Tío Santi today, mi amor?”

Her face lights up, and she squeals, “yes, daddy, pleeeeaaase!”

He chuckles, his heart warming at how much she loves his best friend, his brother.

He and Isa enter the kitchen to you giving Santi the rundown on her allergies.

“We exposed her to all the major allergens already and no reactions, except for peanuts — she gets a little red, so just watch out for that. There’ll be Benadryl in her pack just in case.”

Santi gives you a salute, “Sir, yes, sir.”

You playfully roll your eyes at his antics. “One more thing,” you say as you go to kiss your baby goodbye. “Usually I’d ask if you could send pictures throughout the time you’re gone…” you look at Frankie.

Santi smirks, knowing where this is headed.

“But you don’t have to. At least for today,” your face remains composed, but the heat spreading across your cheeks exposes you.

“Got it. No peanuts,” Santi says, reaching for the bag off Frankie’s shoulder and the keys from his pocket, “and no interruptions,” he winks at you both. “Let me know when you guys are ready for us to come back,” he looks to his beautiful niece in her mother’s arms, peppering her with goodbye kisses.

“Vamanos (let’s go), mija!” Santi says, prying her out of your arms. Frankie reaches to give her one last kiss on her forehead, and they’re out the door.

As soon as the front door clicks shut, Frankie is on you in an instant, too riled up to wait until you’re in the bedroom. He needs you badly, and he needs you now. He’s caging you in between his body and the kitchen counter, lips on you like he’ll die tonight if he doesn’t touch you. Your lungs are burning for air, yet you don’t pull away. You can’t. He’s too addicting. Too much time has passed without the pleasure you two bring one another, so you’ll sacrifice one survival need for another.

Before you know it, his hands are at the base of your ass, lifting you to the kitchen counter, and his lips are dragging down your jaw, your neck, and into your cleavage, nipping every little exposed place your cropped tank allows him. His hands are at the waistband of your sweats, pulling them down as he brings himself to his knees.

“Oh, fuck, baby,” he takes a deep breath in. His eyes are impossibly darker, demeanor turning animalistic as he feels just your sweats alone and no underwear. He gets a view of your already glistening pussy, and he can’t help the growl that leaves his throat.

He settles his hands under the globe of your ass and scoots you to the edge, your thighs finding solace on his shoulders. You immediately lean back on your elbows, knowing the moment his mouth is on you, your body will go weak at his touch.

Without any warning, his tongue licks the entirety of your leaking seam, hands automatically gripping you tighter as the taste of you hits his tongue. The sound that leaves you sends shivers down his spine, his cock painfully hard and leaking in his jeans. He licks you a few more times, letting his drool drip down his tongue and spread all over you, making you a soaking mess of your arousal and his spit.

Once you’re drenched to his liking, he dives right in, face completely flushed against your sex, sloppily sucking and licking into you, hitting all the right buttons to make you see fucking stars. By his hands or his tongue, he still knows how to steer you in the direction of the most beautiful constellations, even if they are behind your eyelids.

“Frankie, fuck-!” you yell out, your inhibitions automatically down with the fact that the house is left to the two of you. Frankie’s hips involuntarily buck into nothing at your moans, missing the sounds you always made for him. Ever since Isa was born, both of you made a conscious effort to work on your noise levels — especially you. You were the most vocal he’s ever been with, and fuck if it didn’t make him all the more whipped. He almost forgot what your sounds do to him. Almost. But now that you’ve given him a taste again after so long, he needs more.

He circles your clit a few times and sucks it, hard. He pulls off with a lewd pop, his dominant hand leaving your ass and making its way to your entrance. You’re such a fucking mess that his two fingers slide right in, giving you the extra push Frankie needed to pull more heavenly moans and whimpers out of you. “Let me hear you, mama,” he says, tongue circling your clit as his fingers work you to the edge. “Sing for me, baby,” and with what little strength you have, you force your head forward to watch his ministrations, and the sight is what sends you falling first. Frankie’s mouth is wrapped around the entirety of you, eyes dark and on yours, his hooked nose rubbing against all the right places while his arm muscles ripple as he fucks his fingers in and out of you.

“Shit- oh, fuck-” you whine out, your head like a bobble head, too heavy to maintain upright. Frankie curls his fingers just right, and-

“Oh my God, Francisco, oh my God!” Your hips are bucking into his face, his own strength unable to keep your hips down with how hard your orgasm is hitting you. He lets you ride out your wave on his face, drinking every last drop coming out of you.

His fingers are out of you now, Frankie immediately cleaning them in his mouth, not wanting to Iet any of your sweet syrup go to waste. Your chest is heaving, eyes clamped shut, and your body is entirely limp. Frankie stands to his full height, and he’s pulling you up to sit up straight, his hands guiding your legs to wrap around his waist. He chuckles a little. “Still with me?”

Your torso loses its strength momentarily, and you almost fall back. His arms immediately wrap around you, supporting you to maintain your upright position. You laugh at yourself, a blissed out smile gracing your face. He feels his heart flutter, just as strong as when he first met you. “Yeah, yeah, I’m here, you monster,” you lightly laugh, resting your head on him. “God, I love you,” your voice slightly muffled from burrowing yourself into his chest.

His one hand leaves your back and wraps itself around your jaw, bringing your lips up to his. You can taste yourself on him, and you can already feel another fire being lit deep in your core, your arousal dripping onto the kitchen counter as your lips continue with his.

You pull away, breathless, ready for more. “Take me to bed, baby.”

“You sure you’re ready now?” He smirks.

“Keep teasing, and I won’t let you cum inside of me, big boy.”

His lips find yours again in a bruising manner, a growl leaves him as he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth. “Last I checked, you were the one begging for me to fuck my cum so deep inside you that it had no other option but to latch on. If that’s what you want again, baby, all you gotta do is ask.”

You whimper in response, your spurt of dominance dissipating immediately.

“That what you want, baby? Come on, tell me. I wanna hear it.”

Your eyes are glossing over, too pent up with a fertile need to get your brain to come up with any kind of response. His grasp on your jaw tightens, his lips ghosting yours as he talks. “Tell me you want my cum, baby. Tell me you want me to fill you up so fucking full of me.”

“Yes, baby, fuck, I need you. I need you inside of me, I need you to fill me. Please, you’re such a good daddy, I wanna give you more, please,” you ramble on. His mouth is on you again in a sloppy embrace as he picks you up and guides you two to your bedroom.

He sets you down at the edge of the bed. He guides your shirt off, then his. He pulls back for a second and shucks his bottoms off, giving you a complete view of his tanned and toned naked body, his little tummy a little soft around the edges. Your pussy is crying at the sight.

You don’t waste anymore time as you settle yourself to the center of your bed, your legs already falling open with muscle memory. Frankie licks his lips at the sight. Part of him just wants to go down on you again, but the way his cock is screaming at him for release and your pussy is clenching on nothing—yeah, his oral fixation can wait.

He settles himself in between your legs. His hands are grounded into the pillow beside your head as your legs automatically hook around his waist. He rubs his length across your wetness, you mewl for him as he lets his tip drag across your clit.

“Baby, please,” you whine.

“I’ve got you, baby.”

His tip breaches your entrance. God, you’ve missed him so much, and you tell him exactly that.

His lips are on yours, never really satiated with the amount of kisses he takes from you, “I fuckin’ missed you so much.” He pushes deeper in. “God, my beautiful wife, I love you so much,” he breathes out as his lips graze your temple.

His hips are flushed with yours, your hands secure themselves around his neck. “Please, baby, let’s never go this long again, I need you so bad,” he rasps. He’s pulling out again, his head kissing your core. “Need you always,” he says as he pushes back in, maintaining a slow but hard rhythm.

You pull him impossibly closer into you, your hands grasping and feeling him anywhere you can reach. You rock your hips to meet every push and pull of his own, lips ghosting each other with each movement, your eyes threatening to roll back at how entirely full you feel.

He’s taking his fucking time with you tonight, fucking you slowly into the mattress, harder with each thrust, reveling in sound of your pussy each time he pushes in, and he can’t help the way he smiles into the sloppy kisses and shared breaths.

You’re a complete mess, tears falling from your eyes at how addicting he feels mixed with the pure love you have for this man. You really don’t even register what you’re babbling about, but that doesn’t matter. Frankie’s in heaven listening to a mixture of your drawn out moans, the occasional Lord’s name in vain, and the repeated I love you, baby, I love you so much.

One of his hands drag down to your clit, rubbing clumsy yet perfect circles, forcing your dam to finally break. He’s completely soaked in you and so are your thighs and the bedsheets. Your fall is slow but all-consuming. Your back arches into him, your nipples rubbing deliciously against his chest, and the feeling is the final push that sends him painting your walls white.

His hand leaves your swollen clit and wraps itself around your lower back, helping you maintain your arch form as he continues rocking himself into you well into his softened state. He can feel your body start to tense out of overstimulation, so he finally pulls out of you, leaving you a leaking mess of both your and his cum. He sits back on his hunches, his fingers drawing circles on your inner thighs, just admiring the sight until his cock begins to stir again.

“Jesus, Morales,” you giggle breathily as you clocked the jump of his length.

He leans over you again, giving you a sweet, lengthy kiss as he begins to slide himself off the bed. “What can I say, baby? I’m insatiable with you,” he gives you a mischievous smirk.

He heads to the kitchen, returning to the bedroom with a chilled glass of water for you. “Drink up,” he says.

Before he makes it to the en suite bathroom, he adds, “I’m not done with you yet, mama.”

Despite the sensitivity down there, your pussy flutters at his words, craving him down there in any way shape or form.

He returns with a warm cloth, cleaning you up as best as he can with your second round of slick and his endless load of cum pouring from you. He sets the cloth down somewhere on the floor and situates himself up against the headboard. He wordlessly guides you to lay between his legs, your chest resting against his.

“Wanna check on Isa?” Frankie asks, albeit a little shy. You smirk a little, knowing you’re usually the one to cave first. You make grabby hands at your phone on the nightstand, nudging Frankie to grab it since his wingspan is much larger than yours. He hands it to you, and you immediately dial Santi, hitting the speaker button as it rings.

“Hey, Santi.”

“Hey, Mrs. Fish,” you can hear him laugh at his name for you. Frankie also gives a little laugh. He thought it was the funniest thing he’s ever said during your guys’ wedding reception. He calls you that more than your own name now.

“How’s it going?” you try to ask in an unconcerned fashion. Santi knows you both all too well to know that isn’t the case.

“You know you two didn’t have to quit just to check on her, right? Tío Santi knows how to distract! Also, tío Santi knows how to put her down for a nap!” He says proudly.

“I believe you, Santi, don’t worry. Just checking. Frankie just kept bugging-”

Before you could continue your sentence, Frankie’s hands immediately go to your sides, hitting all your ticklish spots. You scream out, a loud stream of giggles leaving you.

“Coño, por favor, not while I’m on the phone!” You hear Santi say. “Sorry, Sorry,” you say, still out of breath from Frankie’s merciless attack.

“Actually, Santi, can I ask another favor?”

Frankie looks at you confused. You smirk at him. “Is tío Santi prepared for his first sleepover?” His confusion fades and immediately his eyes are consumed with pure lust, his soft brown eyes turning black.

Santi is silent for a moment. “You two are downright feral, you know that, right?”

You stifle a laugh. “Ay Dios mío (oh my God),” Frankie mutters.

“As long as I get another niece — or nephew, I really have no preference — in nine months time…” Santi trails off in thought. “Then I’d dedicate every damn weekend to her,” he says.

You turn your head around and up to meet Frankie’s eyes, both of you in shock at Santi’s silent invitation, silence fills the air for a moment before you finally bring yourself to speak.

“Oh? Alright, then,” you softly say. “Thank you, Santi, you’re the best. We’ll text you, okay? Bye,” you hang up, not giving Santi any chances to return the call-ending formalities. You and Frankie are still looking at each other, eyes wild at the proposition before you.

“Every weekend, huh?” Frankie says, breaking the tension first. His head dips down to place a kiss where your neck and shoulder meet.

You suck in a breath, arousal forming faster than a strike of lightning. “Mhm,” you barely get out. His hands are roaming your body now, your phone thrown haphazardly somewhere in the room, long forgotten. He places his hands on the insides of your thighs, spreading you open and keeping them atop his own legs, so he can hold you open. His one hand is spread largely over your lower belly while his other hand is already teasing your core.

His finger circles directly on your clit, you yelp in response, your body twitching. “Every weekend, I’m gonna get to fuck my wife, huh?” Frankie says into your ear. “Gonna fill her full of me?” Your hips buck at the huskiness of his voice, of his possessiveness over you. Your response is incoherent, more of a moan than anything. Next thing you know, your room reverberates with the noise of a wet slap.

He spanked your pussy. The sound that escapes your throat is beyond arousing, Frankie’s cock back to life, dripping on your lower back. “Answer me properly, baby,” he says again, softly. His fingers are circling your clit again, forcing more of your wetness out of you, his cum from earlier still seeking its place on your bedsheets.

“Mmm, fuck-” you breathe, “Yes, yes, every weekend, baby,” you’re nodding your head frantically as you try to keep your eyes trained on his actions down below. “Every weekend you’re gonna make me so full,” you whimper, “Gonna fuck a baby into me, daddy, I need you so bad.”

He slides two of his fingers into you at your words, his hips grind into your back at the feel of your warmth, of his spend keeping you nice and wet. His fingers pump in and out of you at a languid pace, his fingers arching in a come-here motion to beckon more of his cum onto his fingers. He pulls out of you momentarily, analyzing the mess he’s made. “Open, querida,” he whispers, likely in a trance at the sight.

You open your mouth, tongue out and ready. He sticks his fingers into your mouth, and you lap up his salty spend greedily, as if it were the sweetest of syrups. You taste a distinct tanginess on his fingers, most likely the product of your own arousal. Your eyes fall shut at your taste, eyes feeling heavy and too blissed out to stay open. He pulls out of your mouth with a pop and grabs your chin, turning your face to his. He pulls you in for an open-mouthed kiss, wet and hot. His hand leaves your face and returns to your core. His fingers are back inside you, pushing in and out as his palm grinds perfectly into your clit. Your hips are moving in tandem, providing you with the perfect rhythm to soak him all over again. His lips never break from your own, tongues dancing in a way only you two get to know.

Your hand seeks purchase at the back of his neck, tugging at the base of his curls, taking away his opportunity to break away from you. He moans into your mouth at the sharp sensation, your lower back a sticky mess from how much he’s leaking onto you.

Finally, you break away, lips still connected by the thinnest of spit lines. “Baby, I- I’m gonna cum, shit-”

Frankie lets out a growl, desperate to have you fall apart on him. He maintains his same pace, adding a bit more pressure of his palm to your clit, his other hand pushing harder down into your belly, knowing how crazy the stimulation drives you. “Give it to me,” he mumbles in your ear, his heavy breathing fanning across your cheek. “Need it, baby. Need you,” he whines.

“Fuck-!” you yell out, head pushing harder into his shoulder, eyes clamping shut and forming white, blinding fireworks beneath your eyelids. He fucks his fingers in you as you ride out your high, tears letting loose as your pussy squirts into his hand and all over both your bottom halves.

The sight transforms him into a cumming mess, the only stimulation being the friction from your backside as he rutted into you. You don’t notice the warm wetness between your bodies until your body falls completely limp against him, breathing still heavy but slowly returning to normal. Frankie bejewels your face with sweet kisses — from your temples to the edge of your shoulder that he can reach — as you slowly come back to Earth.

You look up at him now, a soft smile spread across your face. His heart stutters at the sight. You shift your back a little. “Did you…?”

“Yes, I did,” Frankie admits way too quickly, embarrassment flooding his face.

You pull him into one more kiss before you start to get up. “Come on. Shower and then we eat,” you tell him. “You didn’t get to settle yourself down after work,” you add, slightly scolding him for his impatience yet also silently thanking him.

“I can always eat in the shower,” Frankie adds suggestively, his eyes giving your body a once over as you stand beside the bed, waiting for him to get a move on.

“Morales!” you gasp out. “Bad,” you say, shaking your head from side to side.

“You know it’s gonna happen, mi amor (my love),” he says as he stands, arms wrapping around your waist as he pulls you into him, seeking your warmth.

And it does happen. He makes you fall apart on his tongue twice, and you pay him back by reducing him down to jelly legs as you fuck his cum down your throat. By the time you two actually start your shower, the water is completely cold, not one drop of hot water available.

Post-shower, you two cook a fast, simple meal, too eager to be on each other again, but too aware of how important it is to give your body sustenance in order to continue with your feral behavior. You only get a few hours of sleep that night. Falling asleep after each round only to wake back up a horny, dripping mess just to fuck again. You don’t remember the last time you two did something like this, but damn were you two needing it. You made a mental note to thank Santi for his much needed offer.

The next morning you wake up at seven, the first sensation you feel for the day is your sore pussy, red and puffy as she begs you to give her a break. You look at the knocked out man beside you, give him a kiss on the forehead and break away from his hold, bringing yourself to the bathroom. You take your phone with you.

[07:13] Just woke up. Drop Isabela off whenever you’re ready.

[07:15] God, no wonder she’s up already. She’s got your early ass schedule.

You laugh to yourself, picturing Santi a half asleep man child as your daughter crawls all over him, forcing him to get up, too. What Santi didn’t know was that it was actually Isa’s schedule that you were on.

[07:16] Pobrecito (poor thing). :(

[07:16] She’ll probably be asking for Frankie soon. She always cuddles him in the morning.

[07:17] Yep, she just did. I’ll feed her some breakfast now, then we’ll be on our way. That good, Mrs. Fish?

[07:18] If it’s good with little Fish, then it’s good with me.

He sends you a thumbs up, and you set your phone down. You wash up and get ready for the day.

After you brush your teeth and wash your face, you head to Frankie’s side of the closet and grab one of his soft, cotton tees to throw on.

You head to the kitchen, your first course of action being to fire up the espresso machine. Espresso is the only form of coffee you drink, and soon enough, Frankie followed in your footsteps. Just as you suspected, as soon as the smell of the beans filled the air, Frankie appeared in the kitchen. His sleepy eyes and sexed out hair on display nearly cause your knees to buckle, your aching pussy betraying your want for a lazy morning.

He makes his way to you and kisses you, soft and slow, probably needing a lazy morning just as much as you. “Good morning, mi esposa (my wife),” he says, voice still raspy from sleep.

“Mmm, good morning, mi esposo (my husband),” you smile up at him. “Sleep well?”

“With the sleep that I did get, I’d say yeah,” he says. “You really tired me out, hermosa (beautiful),” he adds.

You pull him down for another kiss. You’ll never tire of the feeling. “Waffles?”

His eyes light up, a boyish grin on his face. “Yes, please.”

Around 8:30 as you and Frankie finish your waffles, the front door is unlocking. A little girl with crazy hair comes busting in, running straight for the both of you to pull you guys into a tight group hug.

“Mommy! Daddy!” she screams.

“Mi amorcito,” Frankie responds, matching her energy. “Mi niña loca (my crazy girl),” you squeal. “I missed you so much!” you add.

You and Frankie kiss each of her cheeks, sandwiching her little face.

“Did you have fun with tío Santi?” you ask.

“So much fun, mommy! We had ice cream for break-”

Before she could finish, Santi chimes in. “O-o-okayyyyy, Isa!” he claps his hand once. “Why don’t you bring this to your room,” he hands her a tiny gift bag — probably the product of some shopping they did — “while I talk to mommy and daddy?”

“Okay, tío Santi!” She takes the bag and makes her way to her room.

Your eyebrows are raised in mock scolding as you wait for Santi to explain himself. “Hey! In my defense, those puppy dog eyes are a killer. I couldn’t say no.”

The three of you break out into laughter, Frankie going in for a hug, clapping Santi on the back as he releases him.

“Waffles?” you offer Santi. He graciously accepts, making his way to the other side of the kitchen counter, helping himself.

“So-” you and Frankie say at the same time. Santi pauses his actions mid-bite.

Frankie nudges you to speak first. You clear your throat to ease the awkwardness in the room.

“So,” you start again. “Were you, uh… were you serious about watching Isa?” you ask?

“Every weekend?” Frankie adds.

You giggle, nodding an affirmative at your husband. “Yes, every weekend?”

Santi finishes the bite he paused on, and sets his waffle down. “You dirty dogs!” he says.

“Pope, come on,” Frankie’s palms go over his cheeks that are currently turning red at Santi’s teasing.

He lets out a laugh. “Sí, cabrón (yes, asshole),” Santi says, slapping Frankie’s shoulder. “Of course I’m serious. I’d do anything for both of you, and especially that demon of a little girl.”

Your heart warms at Santi’s sentiment. You’re beyond grateful Frankie has a best friend like him.

“On one condition,” Santi adds, his eyebrow quirked up.

“Anything,” you say eagerly. Frankie nods his head in agreement with you.

“I also wasn’t kidding when I said I’d need another sobrino (niece/nephew).”

You and Frankie look at each other, your stares saying everything they needed to. Yeah, Santi didn’t need to worry about that.

And you were right when the next Saturday morning, a month and four tío Santi sleepovers later, you and Frankie presented Santi with your pregnancy test displaying two pink lines.

End note: Thank you all so much for reading! Likes, comments, reblogs, etc, — all your support means the absolute world to me. I wouldn’t be able to do this without all of you. Thank you so so so much. There are genuinely not enough words to express my gratitude. As always feedback for my stories (at a technical sense) is also super super helpful whether it is constructive or positive! Anything helps me to be the best writer that I can be. All my love! Xo

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EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!

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robo-writing · 1 year ago

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NSFW Alphabet - Joshua Rosfield Edition

Pairing: Joshua Rosfield/Reader Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors DNI Author's Note: Good god this took me a hot minute, apologies for the delay! Enjoy reading about everyone's favorite blonde bird.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Out of all of the FFXVI boys, he is the KING of aftercare. Knows what you need before you even ask, meticulously kisses every bruise and mark on your body, wraps you in his hold like a cocoon and doesn’t let go.

Dedicated to your comfort, he gently wipes at your shaky legs, voice soft and soothing.

“I know my love, you did so well,” he coos, a hand rubbing comforting circles against your thighs. “Let me take care of you, just sit back and relax.”

Once he’s done he massages every ache, kisses every bruise. He pulls your hair back, smoothes it over and revels in how you melt into the sheets.

Eyes closed in bliss, you reply. “What have I done to deserve you?”

A soft chuckle escapes him. “I often wonder the same about you.” While sex with Joshua is amazing, you could argue that the pampering you get afterward is even better.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves your breasts. He loves how they look in a tunic, he loves how they look bare, he loves how they move when he thrusts into you, Joshua is simply a boob man.

Similarly to his brother, he loves watching your face, your cute reactions are the highlight of his day.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

The first time he made you squirt it was unexpected. You thought he would be angry, so when you looked up and saw him staring at the bedsheets you were ready to apologize, only to be interrupted instead.

“You can do that?” He asked, fascinated.

Nervously, you nod. “Rarely. I didn’t mean to do it but your fingers felt really nice and I couldn’t hold it back—”

“Wait, what do you mean ‘hold it back’?”

Silence, then his thumb gently rubs on your oversensitive clit. “My love, have you been hiding this from me?”

This time you can’t keep silent, his fingers drawing out soft whines from your lips. “I didn’t want you to get upset—”

There’s a determination in his eyes, as if a fire had been lit underneath him. Suddenly his fingers resume their vigorous pace, your pleas falling on deaf ears.

“If I had known…” He chuckles, watching your cunt squeeze against his fingers. “Well, I guess I’ll have to make up for lost time.” And make up for lost time he did. A new record was set for how many times you could come in one single night, and it was not an exaggeration to say that you could not walk in the morning. It was, however, an awkward conversation when Joshua had to ask Otto for new sheets.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Not much of a secret, but he is very, VERY submissive. Initially he was the dominant one but a slip up in the bedroom made you realize just how willing he was to let you take the lead, and ever since you’ve been the one who takes care of him.

Your thighs burn with exhaustion, holding onto his shoulders as you bounce on his cock. He looks so pretty underneath you, red and flushed while he holds your hips steady.

“My love, my love…” He’s lost himself in the feeling of your cunt, not truly aware of anything beyond how tight you feel around him. You’re no better off, a thick haze of lust clouding your senses.

“I’m yours, gods above—“ he whines against your collarbone, pulls you down against him and mouths desperately at your chest.

“Yeah? You treat me so well Joshua,” you moan, stroking his head as you grind into his lap. “So well behaved, aren’t you?”

Something changes in the air, you can practically feel him fall apart when you speak. You test your theory, bringing his head upwards to meet your eyes.

“Such a good boy for me, aren’t you Joshua?”

The noise he lets out is pornographic.

“Yes, yes, so good, please—“

You move faster against his length, pushing him into the sheets with a heavy hand. “That’s right, darling. You like it when I compliment you, don’t you?”

He cries, whimpers your name as you lean in to speak his praises in his ear. “My pretty boy, mine to use as I wish, isn’t that right?”

You feel it before you hear it, the warmth that spread throughout your body as he calls your name with a shout. His breathing is ragged, hips thrusting into you with abandon as his seed spills into you. Already he stutters between moans, apologies leaving his lips.

“‘M sorry, sorry—“ Another shudder renders him pliant. “Didn’t mean to, I’m sorry, let me—“

You cut him off with another rise and fall of your hips, watching in bliss as he falls against the sheets limp.

“It’s okay baby, don’t worry,” you gently caress his cheek, kiss sloppily at his lips and swallow his delicious pleas. “I know you can’t help it, so I’ll help train you, alright?”

You coo at him, fall back onto his cock with force and grin when his eyes roll back. “We’ll keep going until I’ve had my fill, my love.”

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Had no experience beforehand, so everything he knows is from experimentation with you. I have a headcanon that he may not be physically experienced, but he is a very learned man, and probably read some less-than-appropriate material in his adolescence.

It was actually a surprise when he told you he never had sex before, because he sure didn’t act like it.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Cowgirl, goes absolutely nuts for it. The sway of your breasts, the loud slap of your thighs against his, the lost expression on your face when he hits just the right spot—

Anyway, he really likes you being on top.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s fluid, he can switch it up at a moment's notice, it just depends on the mood. It’s not uncommon for him to crack a sly joke or two. However, when he really gets in the mood he goes total subspace, so you have to be very attentive to his wants and needs and take care of him.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Very groomed. A habit he learned growing up as the prince (and was also hammered into him by his mother).

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He shows his intimacy through action rather than words. Holds you close, kisses you anywhere he can, rubs your aches and pains and warms you with his body heat.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He doesn’t (unless you tell him to.)

He is a very patient man, and thrives off the wait. He will purposely hold off his own pleasure until he can pull you away.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Praise - He will never stop complimenting you, even over the littlest things. Pleasure Dom/Switch - If he doesn’t make you come at least three times you’re not leaving, period. Could be crying with overstimulation and will still hold off to watch you shake above him.

Intercrural - Sometimes he doesn’t need to slide into your cunt, your thighs do well enough.

Mutual Masturbation - Watches mesmerized when you touch yourself, just the thought of him watching makes you this horny? He’s on cloud nine.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

The bedroom, or anywhere where he’s certain you won’t be interrupted for at least a while and you’re allowed to be loud. He doesn’t enjoy the idea of someone walking in, and would rather take his time.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

When you subtly tease him throughout the day. The kind of touches that linger just too long, or the kind of looks that betray what you’re thinking of at the moment.

You’ve been teasing him all day, subtle in all the right ways. Of course it’s natural for couples to hug, but what the others don’t see is your hand creeping up to play with the strings of his tunic.

Of course you can kiss your boyfriend, but when you bite his lip softly as you leave he wonders if it’s simply the summer heat or if you’re the one who has made him sweat.

He might go insane if you keep this up.

There’s only so much he can take, he is only a man. He watches you from behind, admires your figure as you bend over, only to feel his cock throb when he notices your bare thighs underneath your dress.

Your thighs, and a lack of underwear.

This isn't fair. None of this is fair, and when you walk over to him with a coy smile there’s a sick little voice in his head that wants to grab you by the arm and bend you over—

“What are you thinking about Joshua?”

Your voice snaps him out of his thoughts.

You sway side to side, and his eyes can’t help to be glued to your dress, suddenly aware that anyone could have seen your little display.

“My love, are you busy?”

“Not at all,” you hum. “Why do you ask?”

“I think maybe we should have a very long chat,” he says, holding you by the hand before briskly dragging you away. “It would be best for us to continue this in our bed chambers.”

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that involves permanent damage to you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Guys, listen to me, and listen to me well. All of the FFXVI boys are munches, but Joshua is a DEVOURER. PUT THAT PRETTY BLOND BIRD ON HIS KNEES. HOLD HIM BY THE HAIR AND WATCH HIM GET PUSSY DRUNK, HE HAS A VERY REAL CHANCE OF SUFFOCATING BETWEEN YOUR LEGS.

Just hear me out for a second: You’re lying in bed, Joshua’s between your legs working magic against your pussy, you’ve come at least twice now but he’s not stopping. The third has you floating, pushing against him for a break but he just pulls you back with an unknown strength and doesn’t let his mouth stop moving for a second. From the little you can see his face is completely drenched, pupils fully dilated and you can barely see the blue in them anymore. Boy is talking MAGIC to your pussy as he grinds against the sheets, a small part of you wonders if he’s come yet but it doesn’t seem to matter, he just keeps fucking going and pressing you down each time you arch away from him.

Anyway Joshua Rosfield is the munch of munches don’t argue with me on this.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

When he’s domming he’s very relaxed, a very romantic and sensual lover. When he’s being dommed he gets so whiny and desperate it’s beyond adorable, will grab at you and beg and won’t shut up unless you give him a reason to or gag him.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He doesn’t have an appetite for it, maybe if the two of you were especially desperate he’d indulge, but Joshua would rather take his time with you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Yes, but you’d be the one to initiate.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He’s always been sickly at a young age, and the effects of that have carried over as he’s grown. However, unlike the other men, what he lacks in stamina he makes up for in detail. While he may only be able to go for two rounds, they are very long, drawn out sessions.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

If you’re comfortable with the idea, he’d be willing to try. He’s most interested in being tied up.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’s very fair, but 9/10 you’re going to be the dominant one in the relationship. Please tease him, he’ll be so well-behaved for you.

He breathes in deeply, holds you tight to him as your hand languidly strokes his length. Up, down, and back up again, you squeeze a bit and revel at the pathetic keen that rises from his throat.

You shush him gently, spreading the precum that drips from his tip with your thumb. “Gimme a color darling.”A sniffle, and then— “Green, please, keep going.”

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s LOUD, he wants you to have zero doubts about how good you make him feel, whines and whimpers and begs like a good boy.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Mommy kink. This counts as a dirty secret as well.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

5.9 inches on the skinny side, uncut and REALLY sensitive. His tip turns a pretty bright red when you overstimulate him and leaks like crazy.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

While more behaved than the other men it really doesn’t take him a lot to get going, if you pull him away to a secluded room and kiss him until his lips bruise he’ll do anything you say.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Makes sure all your needs are met, and then it’s lights out. Likes to press himself into your chest and spoon you as he does.

#final fantasy xvi #final fantasy xvi smut #joshua rosfield #joshua rosfield x reader #joshua rosfield smut #ff16 #big blond bird boy #Just look at him just tell me thats not a man who wouldn't rent a space between your legs #robo writes

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lyranova · 7 months ago

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Hiya Lyra! 3, 7, and 23 for the excerpt asks please? Thank you!! 💕

Hiya Acacia! Of course you may, and I answered all of these with Zerilliam since I know you love them so much 🥹! I hope you enjoy~!

3 that encompasses my style

Tbh I don’t really know what my style is, i’ve been writing for many years and yet I still don’t know what my style is ahwjwhsjw 😅. But I guess this little Zerilliam snippet from an upcoming chapter of “Mocha Dreams and Earl Grey Realities” encompasses my sillier style 😆!

“ WHAT ARE YOU THINKING VANGEANCE?!” He mentally shouted at himself as his cheeks burned even hotter at his inappropriate thoughts. “ ZERA IS INNOCENTLY TRYING TO TEACH YOU HOW TO APPLY EYELINER AND THIS IS WHERE YOUR MIND GOES?! HAVE YOU NO SHAME?!”

“ Penny for your thoughts, William?” Zera suddenly whispered warmly into his ear, her voice sounding a little more seductive than before. William felt his heart, and his body, jump in surprise.

“ I-It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.” William tried to tell her as he cleared his throat and looked away, Zera hummed, sat back a little, and tapped the eyeliner pencil against her cheek in thought.

“ Hmm, don’t tell me,” She began after a moment, a mischievous smile suddenly worked its way onto her face. “ Were you…having naughty thoughts about me?”

“ Absolutely not! I’m a gentleman.” He quickly and firmly denied, his face turning even redder (how that was possible, he wasn’t sure), and he quickly looked away from her.

“ Ooh a quick and firm denial…that means you totally were!” She teased with a chuckle, only making him clear his throat again.

“ I…was not.”

“ You were!” She squealed in delight, making him sigh and shake his head, but also cause a small smile to tug on his lips.

7 that i nursed in a daydream before finally writing

This scene from “Dandelion Wishes” chapter 6 is a little daydream I nursed after coming up with Zera, and I was going to make it a oneshot, but instead added it to Dandelions 😁!

‘That’s it. This is where and how I die. Rika always told me my mouth and bullheadedness was going to get me in trouble one day!’ Zera thought dramatically as she closed her eyes.

But instead of feeling a spell hit her, she felt the man let go of the front of her dress. She fell right onto the ground and opened her eyes as she heard the men shouting.

“ C-Captain Vangeance?!” She shouted as she watched the man use his World Tree magic to grab the men and tie them up.

“ Get your hands off of my wife.” He told the man in front of him calmly as he used his magic to hold him off the ground, but as Zera and others noticed, despite his calm demeanor, there was a fiery anger burning in his eyes.

“ ‘W-W-Wife’?!” Zera nearly squeaked as her face turned a bright shade of red and her heart skipped a beat.

Wait, her heart skipped a beat? Just because Captain Vangeance called her his wife? No…Zera’s face burned an even brighter shade of red. This couldn’t be happening!

She couldn’t be having feelings for the Captain of the Golden Dawn!

23 that was inspired by a work from another medium (music, visual art, dance, etc.)

This Zerilliam request from my 600 event was inspired by the song “By Your Side” by Jonas Blue and RAYE, and it’s what kicked off the Gods!AU brainrot 😆!

“ You…want me to come back to you? Even though I lied and hid my identity from you?” He asked, the surprise in his eyes going into his voice, and she nodded.

“ I’m not happy you lied and hid it from me, but deep down…I think I always knew there was something different about you,” Zera muttered with a small shrug. “ And it doesn’t matter, even though I still find it hard to believe, it doesn’t matter. Because…you’re still you, and I still love you.”

William blinked when she suddenly rushed towards him and wrapped her arms around his middle and buried her face into his chest, his body stiffened a bit in surprise before he relaxed and wrapped his arms around her as well.

“ So you can leave, and take care of what you need to, and I’ll still be here,” She told him, the tears in her eyes slowly seeping through his shirt, leaving a trail of wet spots. “ Just not tonight. I’m gonna hold your hand and keep you close, and I won’t let you go, not tonight. So please…keep me by your side.”

Williams heart beat rapidly in his chest as he heard Zera’s words, she wasn’t angry, she wasn’t pushing him away like he thought she would. Instead, she was holding him closer, silently asking for him to stay with her, by her side, for at least tonight. And for now he would take it, and just relish being with her tonight, since he wasn’t sure when, or if, they would ever get the chance to be together again.

#asks #acacia💜#my lovely mutuals #writing ask game #thanks for asking!#zerilliam #zera x william #william x zera #dandelion wishes #black clover

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ceilingfan5 · 2 years ago

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Rockband + werecreatures au👀?

Listen! Sometimes you’re so close to going fucking insane that you have to push the final button yourself. You know? Sometimes you’re the camel and you’re so goddamn tired of all the goddamn straw–oops! How did that Last Straw get on there? Too late! You know? You’re the bug and the boot and you’re the squish and the stain and the absence, you’re the noise and the noise and the noise and the noise.

Seems like Taako is always the noise, these days. It’s easy to be the noise. It’s easy to fill a room to the brim–to drop a flashbang and know people fucking saw something, they’ll remember something, but he got to pick what that something was. A lot harder to just… be in a space. Existing makes Taako itchy. Makes him feel like his skin’s about to peel off and his bones are gonna crack and warp and hideously reach for the gentle light of the moon, like he’s him and he’s a monster and the monster is him and he is the monster, always the monster–

It may or may not be that time of the month.

Which pisses him off, as he sits there noodling on the keyboard in their big hollow practice space. Whale fall of a band hall, the exposed ribs holding up the ceiling, the walls at a half-perceptible angle that no badge-wearing bitch ever could have signed off on, and when it’s full? When that parking lot is full, when all the bottom feeders have come to feast? Man, you can feel it in your bones.

There are two ways to feel alive, and neither one is good for Taako’s blood pressure.

He hammers on the keys, skin too fucking tight, heart beating too fucking fast, and his tempo is burning garbage, and those nasty neighbor kids left firecrackers in the trash again. He’s not even supposed to be here. He had a prior engagement. He had plans. He had hopes, once, dreams, even, but honestly, how embarrassing. He wants to rip and bite and tear and kill. He wants to riff so hard he forgets his name. He should get his guitar and plug it in instead, but he’s on the edge, and if something shoves him bodily over it, careening for a hard pause, he’ll fuck up the strings again and get in trouble. They aren’t famous enough yet to just break stuff. But oh, when that day comes…

Keyboard it is, until he can hold his claws back. D, D, B flat, C– no, no, no, fuck, it never sounds right. What the fuck was Magnus thinking? Idiot doesn’t have ears that perk at every passing car in the night. (Or…does he? He’ll have to google if bears have good hearing later.) He’s got his own problems, yeah, but Taako isn’t being understanding right now, he’s being an absolute bitch, and he can hardly stand himself. Break him open, he’ll be bright as super nova full of glow stick acid. How can anyone expect him to be calm and nice and good, not least himself? No wonder no one wants him. Easier to be the flashbang, to be the noise.

“Taako?”

D, D, B flat, C– it isn’t going to work, not with these lyrics. What were they thinking?

“Taako…”

“Fuck off,” Taako growls. Kravitz does not, in fact, fuck off. He’s incorrigible that way, always turning up like a bad penny. Maybe a counterfeit penny. This one is smiling. Makes you think, why shouldn’t the guy be pleased with himself once in a while?

Smug fucker.

“I’m not going to ask,” Kravitz says, being all understanding or some shit. “You don’t have to tell me.”

��Sweet, I won’t, thanks for the permission, guy.” Taako hammers on all the keys at once. Maybe if Kravitz opens his mouth again he’ll straight up sit on the stupid thing.

“But I could pick up drums or bass, if you want to jam?”

“I don’t want to jam. Unless we’re talking a fork in an electrical socket.”

Kravitz nods like this isn’t a middle-school ass answer. Taako’s hardly thinking- well, hardly thinking at all, let alone clearly. Kravitz knows he’s pissed. Maybe if he were like Taako, he’d smell it on him, but you could have no nose at all and pick up on it right now, honestly.

God, Taako wishes Kravitz could understand.

“He stood me up,” he says, still feeling mean, mean, mean, fury burning up his bloodstream. “And you know what? You know how stupid- I thought this time would be different. Fucking-” he doesn’t have any words to follow. He wants to spit acid. Kravitz doesn’t seem bothered enough for him, as he swings himself up onto the stage. Stupid bastard ignoring the stairs to look cool. He’s feeling something, but Taako can’t figure it out. All the senses in the world don’t add up if you can’t focus to do the math. It’s just noise.

“I’ll kill him and eat him for you, if you want,” Kravitz says, sitting heavily at the drumset. He starts tapping a countoff, setting the pace.

“Nah,” Taako says, oddly touched. “He’s probably poisonous. Lawyer.”

“Fuck,” Kravitz says. “What are you doing, fucking lawyers?” He starts in on the drum solo of one of their best songs, and not one to miss a beat, Taako joins him. He wishes he could trust himself on the guitar right now. He needs to slam that motherfucker into another dimension.

“I can fuck whoever I want.”

“You can, no judgment, just- Like you said. Poisonous.” Hard to hear him over the set. The noise beats in Taako’s chest, and he loves it.

“Yeah. Maybe I’ve got a taste for it.”

“Blegh,” Kravitz says, fully sticking his tongue out like a third grader. Taako’s surprised into laughing.

“Yeah, alright, maybe I’m sulking. Shut up.”

Kravitz snickers. The impending chorus looms.

“Seriously, fuck whatever you like.”

“You don’t care?”

“Do you want me to care?” Kravitz doesn’t miss a beat. Asshole.

What’s Taako supposed to say? He’s cornered.

“No,” he says, audibly delayed.

Kravitz shakes his head. They miss the first chorus.

“Cause if you want me to care, you know I will.”

“I do.” Taako’s skin writhes. He doesn’t want to talk. He just wanted to make noise. “I- I don’t know. Maybe I’m poisonous. I’ll bite you and you’ll die.”

“Venomous?”

“Nerd.”

Kravitz cocks his head, not denying it.

“I’m not afraid of your teeth.”

“Maybe you should be!”

“Nah.”

They both stop playing. The hall creaks, the silence echoes.

Taako looks at him.

“I know, Taako.” Kravitz fiddles with his sticks. “You want me to just say stuff? I’ll stop quipping. I know.”

Taako stares at him.

“What are you, some kind of were-chaser?”

Kravitz laughs, startled.

“I mean, it doesn’t turn me off-”

“Jesus!” Taako walks away from the keyboard, pacing. “You know? You know- and-”

“And I’d still kiss you.”

“Hard to kiss with all those teeth,” Taako grumbles.

“Tell me to fuck off, and I will. But you have to mean it.” Kravitz folds his arms. Taako looks at him. Kravitz stares right back.

There’s no way Taako isn’t giving him pathetic sad puppy eyes right now. His night has sucked too bad, and he got too mad, and now he just feels like a stuffed animal dropped in the bathtub.

“Can I make you dinner?” Kravitz asks, a little softer. Fucker. Knowing Taako’s too riled to go out right now. Damn him so hard.

“No chance in hell,” Taako says pleasantly, even though his voice cracks nasty. “Cause that is poisonous. Buy me steak.”

“Yeah,” Krav says, giving him the biggest, mooniest eyes. “Anything you like.”

#taz #taakitz #tazb #the adventure zone #the adventure zone balance #fan5fics #taz balance #taakitz fic #thank you!!

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apolyian-alluvial · 2 years ago

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n o c t u a r y {five}

n o c t u a r y {linked universe x demi-god reader}

Your target sat in a tree, unmoving, unknowing. By your side, Wind watches on anxiously, his mouth drawn down in his squiggly frown. You wait with bated breath. The smooth rock in your hand lost its coolness a while ago, warmed by the heat of your palm. Slowly, you stretch your arm back, eyes still trained on your target. You snap your arm forward and the rock goes flying through the air.

The projectile hits the tree branch right between two talons gripping the bark. The bird sitting right above the spot squawks loudly, wings flapping as it flies off in a frenzy. You grin to yourself. Hitting as close to the bird without hitting it was a baby challenge to you, quite literally. It’s one of the first exercises you went through before you could start shooting with a bow at camp.

Wild whistles appreciatively. “You’re a good shot.” He was the one who suggested to “throw rocks at animals without hitting them, and if we do, we get fresh dinner tonight”.

“There’s no way!” Wind cries. “You have to be cheating!”

“How can I cheat by throwing a rock?” you ask, smirking down at him.

Wind crosses his arm, his squiggly frown still prominent. “The rock is magic.”

“And pray tell, how did I get a magic rock?”

“You enchanted it, of course. This time, I’m going to choose the rock so you can’t enchant it.”

Twilight sighs, but it’s not exasperated in the way it should be. “Guys, please stop bothering the wildlife.”

“We’re not hurting the birds,” Wind defends. “We’re just having fun.”

You place a hand on the smaller boy’s shoulder. “Let’s resume our game later, okay? Then, you can check for sure that I’m not using any spells.” The short break Time called for is bound to be over soon, and you’d rather not get scolded for holding the group up for throwing rocks at trees.

Wind is slow to lose his frown, but reluctantly agrees. He goes to sulk beside Warriors who does nothing to soothe his disappointment, only adding fuel to the fire by ruffling the boy’s hair roughly.

Twilight takes Wind’s place beside you. “We should reach Castle Town by the end of the night at the current pace we’re going. There, Zelda might be able to help find a way to send you home.”

You smile slightly. “Thank you.”

Twilight rubs the back of his neck bashfully. “It’s what we do.” He gives you a charming half smile

Time claps his hands and announces for everyone to get ready to move once more. There’s a collective groan from Wind, Sky, and Four, but they all gather themselves obediently.

Four lags behind a little bit, more focused on rubbing his temples than keeping up with the front of the group.

“You good?” you ask the shorter boy.

“Fine,” Four answers quietly. “Just a headache. I think we’re gonna shift soon.”

“Shift?”

Four goes very still. “It’s nothing.” He hurries ahead, deciding to walk beside Sky instead. You raise an eyebrow at his backside. Best not to disturb him anymore then.

You walk alone for a few minutes, not minding the lose of your companion. It’s almost refreshing in a sense. Ever since you’ve arrived in this new universe, someone has been hanging out by your side. With Four and Wind, it’s not malicious, they seem genuinely curious nad you would be lying if you weren’t curious about them as well. The others though, Warriors’ sharp gaze, Legend’s distrusting glares, and Time’s stern watch makes the back of your neck itch and your shoulders hunch. You don’t blame them for their distrust, but you can’t say it’s something you exactly welcome.

Wind, seemingly tired of Warriors’ teasing, goes to join you by your elbow. “Are you excited to go home?”

“Of course,” you respond immediately. “I love Camp Half-Blood, I’ve been there ever since I was six. I’m- well, I was, one of the year-round campers. And this was supposed to be my last week there before I went off to university. I’ll be the first one of my siblings…” to survive past eighteen, “to go to university.”

You’re ready to go home. Twilight’s world may be full of beautiful, undisturbed nature, but it’s unfamiliar. You hate how the trees look similar to the ones at camp, but there are no dryads living inside. The sun rises in the east and sets in the west of course, but it doesn’t feel as warm. In each of the heroes you’re travelling with, you see glimpses of your friends, you see a weariness you understand far too well.

“Do you like it at camp?”

“I love it there. Outside of our daily schedules, the Apollo Cabin is responsible for volunteering in the infirmary, teaching archery, and singing at the Friday night campfire, but it never grows boring.” There’s always something new at camp, a new face, a new song to learn, a new injury to treat.

Hyrule slows his pace a little. He looks over his shoulder. “You know how to heal?”

You press your lips into a thin line, trying not to let a grimace show. “I can’t heal any injuries like my siblings can, but I can treat them.”

“Do you miss your siblings?” Wind asks, voice quiet.

You glance down at the young teen. His eyes are downcast on his boots. He should be at his island home with his younger sister, feeding the seagulls and playing in the waves like a normal child, not on another adventure to save the world. He should not be thinking of his home as something he yearns to return to in the deepest desires of his heart. “I’ll think of this as a nice vacation away from them. Half the time they act like their five and I’m the one forced to take care of them.”

“I’d imagine they’re still a better-behaved lot than this one,” Time calls out from the front, his one eye sparkling mischievously. Wild and Hyrule immediately begin to protest in unison, claiming they haven’t started any forest fires recently and they’re being quite good actually.

Heat spreads across your face. You didn’t know the others were listening in. It was only natural you suppose, that your voice could be heard by those in front of you, but you wagered on them having their own conversations and not paying attention to yours.

“You may not have started any forest fires Champion, but how many rocks did you put in your mouth since we’ve arrived in Twilight’s home?” Warriors prompts, grinning handsomely as though he knows he’s right.

Wild frowns lopsidedly. “Only four. And it was just because they looked tasty!”

“It was five,” Hyrule corrected, counting them on his figners. “Remember the small, orange one we found at the river?”

Wild eyes go round at the memory. “Oh yeah, that one tasted kinda sweet, like a hydromelon.”

You take it back, this is not a vacation. You’d rather deal with six over-dramatic, pubescent siblings that all own sharp weapons than deal with the biological hazard that is Wild. It’s a miracle beyond your comprehension that you haven’t gotten a disease just from being near him yet.

“You’re an absolute menace, Wild,” Legend says, but the edges of his lips are curling upward.

“A true threat to polite society,” Warriors agrees.

Twilight suddenly halts. “Stop.”

“Oh come on, rancher.” Legend places a hand on his hip. “We’re just having a bit of fun, there’s no need to be overprotective.”

“Mama bear will always defend his cub,” Warriors smirks, sharing amused expressions with Legend.

“No, stop and be quiet.” Twilight’s voice is hard and leaves no room for argument.

Everyone pauses. The woods have gone quiet. There are no more birds singing, leaves rustling with the wind, or animals creeping through the underbrush. Time places one hand on the hilt of his sword. “Twilight?”

“I think there’s monsters near,” the brown-haired boy whispers. His eyes are frantically darting around, searching for something hidden in the leaves.

Numerous hands dart for their weapons. You slid your laurel ring off of your finger and throw it into the air. You catch your bow and quiver, hastily knocking an arrow. From the foliage right behind Time, a flash of red catches your eye. You stand up straight, pulling your bowstring taut. The end of your arrow aims at a space just past Time’s shoulder.

“You witch,” Legend hisses. He draws his sword as he steps toward your direction. “Waiting until we’re far away from civilizations to try and attack us.”

Without warning, you let your arrow fly. At the same moment, a strange lizard creature jumps from the trees. The arrow passes by Time and lands in the creature’s throat. It makes a pitiful choking sound as it crumples to the ground. For good measure, you shoot another arrow that lands in the middle of its forehead. You would aim for the heart, but the lizard is wearing leather armor including a red, spiky pauldron.

“Black blood,” Time says, looking down at the body. “Be on your guard. There’s bound to be more.”

Hyrule’s shout pierces the silence. “There! To the left!” He points with the tip of his sword towards a rustling bush. Several more of the lizard creatures emerge from the treeline. With no hesitation, he and Wild rush forward, swords poised to attack.

“Those two,” Warriors mutters under his breath. He glances over at you. “Stay where you are and watch for any more incoming lizalfos. Sailor, stay with our guest.” He storms into battle, blue scarf billowing behind him and for a moment, you truly see a hero, someone passed down for generations through myths.

Wind scowls. He lets go of his defensive stance but holds his blade in front of him. “Of course, he would put me on defense duty.” After a beat, he addresses you, “No offense.”

“None taken,” you say faintly as you watch Time spin attack, mutilating three lizards at once. You’ve been taught swordsmanship for most of your life but nothing like that. Legend parries an attack and then stabs his sword through the bottom of a lizard’s jaw, the tip coming out the top of its snout.

The battle is a flurry of motion, but off to the distance is one stagnant figure. Another lizard, this one a little larger than the rest and with black skin stands amidst the trees, barely hidden by leaves and branches. Its red eyes are hauntingly familiar.

“Wind.” You nudge him, not taking your eyes off the black lizard. “What’s up with that one.”

The boy follows your gaze. He curses explicitly under his breath. “That’s the Shadow!”

You narrow your eyes. So the thing that dragged you into this new world, tore you away from your family and home, is now a lizard. Unfortunately for it, you’ve always been good at hunting. You nock an arrow and draw your bowstring back. An arrow between the eyes should do the trick.

“What are you doing?!” Wind tries to lower your arm. “We have to tell the others!”

You release your arrow. Confidence swells in you. The Shadow’s too distracted by the battle in front of it to pay attention to a lone arrow. At the last moment though, red eyes snap towards yours. It jumps out of the way and the arrow lands on a tree trunk. The Shadow takes off into the woods.

“It’s getting away!” You run after it, paying no mind to the battle that’s finishing up. Through the dense woods, you can see the tip of a black tail darting between trees. You hastily nock another arrow. It lands just a few centimeters shy of the tail. You’re pulling an arrow from your quiver when you see the tail stop.

A portal of dark purple light appears. The Shadow turns around, red eyes boring into your soul as it sinks into the darkness. You feel yourself flush angrily. It gets to run away so easily while you’re stuck relying on strangers. You shoot another arrow, but it just bounces off armor.

“You coward! I hope your tail gets chopped off and doesn’t regrow! Stupid ass lizard!”

The Shadow disappears silently into the purple light. Slowly, that begins to fade too. You snatch up a handful of rocks and dirt and throw it in the direction the monster escaped. You wish you had Wild with you so he could set the forest on fire. You could burn down thousands of forests but that still wouldn’t be enough to quell your anger.

The leaves behind you rustle loudly. You turn around to see the chain of Links burst forth. Warriors marches up to you. “What was that?” His tone is calm, but you can see how white his knuckles are around his sword hilt.

“I saw the Shadow.”

“And why didn’t you tell us?” he asks. Cold anger burns in his lapis blue eyes.

“I almost had it,” you say, avoiding the question. “It jumped into a portal at the last moment.”

Legend scoffs. He flicks black blood from his blade. “Convenient.”

“Easy, Veteran.” Time places a brief hand on the boy’s shoulder. He directs his one eye on you. “Next time you see the Shadow, you will tell us so we can deal with it.” It’s clear he’s leaving no room for argument.

You can count on one hand how many times you’ve been scolded by an adult in your life. Chiron, the camp activities director makes everything into a teaching opportunity, he doesn’t enjoy telling off the campers. Dionysus however, the head director, loves making fun of the campers but doesn’t care enough to actually engage with them most of the time. So naturally, you don’t handle it well. “Next time, I’ll shoot it dead.”

Time straightens up. The markings on his face, the scar over his eye, and polished armor make him look threatening. “It is our duty to rid the Shadow of our lands, not yours. He is our responsibility.”

“It became my problem the moment it dragged me away from my universe into this one,” you spit out, refusing to back down. The two of you stare each other down.

“...Guys,” Four hesitantly speaks up. He rubs the side of his head. “...I think we have more pressing matters to deal with.”

Warriors inhales deeply. He runs a hand through his blond curls, yet not a single one falls out of place. “And what might that be, dear Smithy?”

Four points off to the side. “That.” A new portal manifests itself. This one, a more rounded triangle of red and purple light.

“Already?” Sky sighs. “We just arrived in this world.”

Time steels you with one last look. “We’ll continue this later.” He goes to stand in front of the portal. “Is everyone ready?”

Swords are sheathed and shields are strapped to backs. Sky and Four line up behind Time, the latter looking miserable at the sight of the portal. Warriors stands off to the side, watching everyone with a critical eye.

Twilight grimaces apologetically. “Your help might be delayed.”

“What?” You don’t get an answer or any explanation.

Legend shoves you into line and you find yourself trapped between him and Twilight. Time steps through the portal first, vanishing into the light. Sky and Four follow and soon you find yourself next to step through. After a moment of hesitation, Legend gives you another push and you find yourself falling through.

The portal is cold. It steals the breath from your lungs, it squeezes your organs. Too many thoughts race through your mind yet you can’t think of a single thing, can’t concentrate on anything but the cold, biting pain. You close your eyes, wishing for it all to be over. For a few seconds, you feel as though you’ve dissolved into nothingness. Your feet land on a hard surface and you fall to a heap on the ground. Sensation slowly comes back to you. Familiar warmth spreads through your body. When you open your eyes, you recognize the site. You’re in the Apollo cabin at Camp-Half Blood. You’re home.

-----

thank you all so much for reading!!💖💖

#linked universe #linked universe x reader #linked universe imagine #lu twilight x reader #lu wild x reader #lu warriors x reader #lu time x reader #lu wind #lu hyrule x reader #lu legend x reader #lu four x reader #lu sky x reader

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milkiane · 3 years ago

Text

matters the most

pairings: rafe cameron x reader

warnings: profanities, mentions of alcoholic beverages, sexual comments

word count: 1996

request: give me rafe angst with prompt "god, i can't even look at you"

a/n: all the love to @s1ater as always, and thank you to @iwritesiriusly for being the best <3

love is such a concept that most people would often dream of, wanting the full experience of having butterflies in your stomach, fireworks erupting with every kiss, the messy and complicated rollercoaster ride. everything about love just sounds so beautiful.

love brings two people, from strangers, or enemies, or life-long friends, together and creates sheer happiness and adoration for each other, but love is never always about all that cliché domesticity. sometimes it’s all about the thrill and the danger that it brings along.

it was funny, really. how rafe, who wasn’t afraid to express his hatred for pogues, fell for one. love did work in mysterious ways, they said.

neither of you knew how you lasted for 8 months without getting caught, but both of you knew that the fun wouldn’t last for long before something would come in between.

he didn’t know that his dad and rose would be home earlier than they said. he thought he’d have the house to himself, that’s why he invited you to come. amidst a steamy make-out sesh did they walk in, followed by an argument between the two men. you awkwardly stood behind rafe, lips swollen and cheeks red as rose glared at you.

it didn’t end well, but when does it ever? forbidden love had its perks, but it also had its downfalls. ward demanded to break off whatever liaison his son had with you, whilst still raving about his disdain for the likes of you and how rafe turned out to be just like his disappointment of a sister. rafe decided that he’s had enough and stormed off with you.

that’s why rafe was in the cut at the dead of the night, standing in front of the chateau.

he shook his head, bringing out his phone to give you a call as he brought the large blanket closer to his chest.

incoming call: rafey <3

groaning, you reached out your hand and blindly patted around your bed for your ringing phone. the brightness of your phone glaring at you to the degree, making you hiss.

“rafe? it’s 2 in the morning, why the-” you grumbled, eyes fluttering close as sleep started to glaze over.

“come outside, babe. i’m on your front porch,” he said, taking in the sight of it before silently muttering, “if you could even call it a porch.”

“shut up, rafe,” you groaned, ending the call as you threw your blankets to the side and leaving your warm sanctuary to see your boyfriend. quietly making your way past john b’s room and jj, who was sleeping on the couch.

“what are you doing here?” you asked, wrapping your arms around his torso as he placed a kiss on your temple.

“wanted to come see you, we don’t know to what extent my dad’ll go to make us break up, so let’s make the most of our time,” he shrugged, reaching out for your hand, he intertwined your fingers together and dragged you towards an open space.

rafe unfolded the blanket and spread it out, laying down on it as he opened his arms to invite you in.

snuggling into his embrace, you smiled softly, “you know, i’m usually the one who sneaks out to see you,”

he chuckled, his chest vibrating as he did, “yeah, but we gotta have some change now, i guess,”

you sighed, nuzzling deeper into his arms, “imagine if the clash between the kooks and pogues never existed, if the odds were in our favor, we would have lived happily,”

“we’ll get married,” rafe started, then tilted his head to look down at you, “a beach wedding, d’you want a beach wedding?”

“yeah,” you grinned, playing with the rings on his fingers, “then we’ll have two kids and a dog, and a house in between figure 8 and the cut,”

silence surrounded the both of you, sad smiles on your faces as you looked up at the twinkling stars. the chirping of cicadas and the rustling of the trees serving as a piece of calming music.

after a while, rafe began to speak up again, “are you… are you sure that this is worth all the secrecy, y/n?”

you furrowed your eyebrows, removing yourself from his hold to you look at him, “what?”

he sighed, running a hand through his hair, “i just- we knew it would end one way or another, right?”

you paused, trying to let his words sink in before asking him, “what’re you trying to say, rafe?”

by now, he was already sitting up, “i’m just saying that we just got lucky that we lasted for nearly a year. i mean, it’s far-fetched, you’re a pogue, and i’m a kook. it would have been easier if you were like me,”

you scoffed pathetically, “oh, so it’s my fault now that i was born a pogue? well, i’m sorry that i couldn’t control how life works, that i have to work my ass off 24/7 to keep myself surviving,”

“you know that’s not what i meant, baby, it’s just that-“ rafe groaned, he didn’t know what else to say because that’s exactly what he meant.

“then what is it, rafe? you don’t know how hard it is to work multiple jobs just to keep yourself afloat, it’s unfair how we didn’t choose to live like this, yet you kooks torment us for trying to have food to serve on our tables,” you fumed, “so i’m sorry that we don’t have golden spoons sticking out of our mouths or that our daddies don’t give us whatever the hell we want,”

“i can’t believe you doubted us for even a second,” you sighed, rubbing your eyes to keep your tears from falling, “do you think this was all easy for me, rafe? because no, it wasn’t, but i still loved you with all that i am, with all that i have, because i knew that we’ll get through this.”

“y/n-”

“god, i can’t even look at you right now,” you stood up, grabbing your phone as you made your way back to the chateau, tears gathering in your eyes.

“y/n, wait, c’mon-”

rafe grabbed your arm, but you immediately removed it from his grasp as you whipped around, “you know, i may not have a lot to offer, but i knew that i made you happy and i loved you an awful lot, so i’m sorry if that wasn’t enough.”

you let the tears fall this time, looking at him one more time before going in and slamming the door shut, making jj jump up in surprise, “y/n?”

rafe stood there for a moment, trying to shake away the broken look on your face from his mind. he sauntered after you, knocking aggressively at the front door, “y/n, c’mon, i’m sorry, baby.”

john b rushed out of his room, jumbled and confused as he held the bat up, “wha-?”

you shoved him away and hurried back to your room. the two boys exchanged looks before opening the door. to say that they were shocked to see a disheveled rafe cameron on their doorstep was an understatement, “what the fuck are you doing in here, cameron?”

he ignored them and tried to push past them, “get outta the way, pogues,”

but they weren’t having it, they pushed him back with a glare. he scoffed, looking back once more before slowly backing off, grabbing the blanket before speeding away on his motorbike.

you wouldn’t choose to be here if you had a choice, but alas, if it means working at the midsummers and earning a decent salary with free champagne to drown your sorrows in, then you might just have to.

so, clad in a waitress’s apparel, too tight for your liking, and a tray of glasses of champagne in hand, you maneuvered your way towards the old uppity haughty kooks.

at a respectable distance, rafe was looking at you with a sad look on his face, wanting nothing more than to wrap you in his arms and tell you how sorry he is and how he loves you so much.

it was when topper’s voice snapped him out of his trance, “have you seen l/n’s ass in that uniform? i would’ve done her right then and there if she wasn’t a pogue,”

the sounds of his friends’ laughters fumed him, but instead of saying anything, he shot up out of his seat and approached you.

you momentarily glanced at him and swallowed, “champagne?”

he grabbed the glass that you shoved at his chest, fingers grazing over another, “y/n, please, i just want to talk,”

“i’m not here for you, cameron,” you caught a glimpse of his friends slowly approaching the both of you, sniggering from behind him, “i’m here to earn some money, so if you’ll excuse me,”

but before you could even make your way around them, topper and kelce harshly knocked on your shoulders, the tray of glasses breaking into pieces as it fell.

“watch it, pogue,”

gasps were heard across the room, as you staggered back from the force. you heard pope and jj run towards you, john b and kiara excusing themselves from the guests to follow.

you let out a shaky breath, crouching down to pick up the pieces as ward slowly walked over to scold you.

as they continued to laugh, they risked a glance to see a livid rafe glaring at them instead of laughing along with them, and with that, their laughter died down, a look of confusion replacing their amusement.

rafe looked around, catching the eye of his father who stopped in his tracks, a glint in his eye as if he was daring him to go help you, to ruin their family’s reputation.

without a single doubt, he took the broken shards from your hold and raised you up by your arms, earning another round of gasps from the crowd.

he looked at you, silently asking for permission. when a small smile tugged your lips, he leaned in slowly, closing in the proximity of your lips. your arms wrapped around his neck as his own wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer.

as you heard his father’s footsteps, rafe pulled away and grabbed your arm, sprinting into a run.

“rafe!”

the both of you burst into laughter as you dashed through the crowd, hands still intertwined as you looked for a quiet spot.

you stopped at their backyard, fairy lights hung from tree to tree, and the music from the platform softly echoing. trying to catch a breath, you let your head fall on his chest. rafe’s hand ran through your hair, “i’m sorry, y/n,”

“rafe-”

“no, no. i’m sorry, i didn’t mean what i said, okay? i love you too much,” he cupped your face in his hands, his thumb caressing the apple of your cheeks, “i’ll gladly give up the life i have right now if it means spending it with you. none of this luxury would compare to you, no amount of money would make me happy as you do.”

you pulled him into another kiss, running a hand through his hair. it was slow, sensual, something different from the type of intimacy you often did, as though if you rushed things, you’d open your eyes to see that everything was just a dream. rafe brought you closer than possible, a hand resting the other on the small of your back and on your hip, rubbing slow circles on the exposed skin.

pulling away slowly, you whispered a hoarse, “i love you, rafe cameron,”

he smiled softly, swaying slowly to the distant music. an aura of love and sovereignty enveloping the both of you in a bubble of your own. none of you cared about the rivalry anymore, or his father, or what other people would say. let them talk.

it wouldn’t bother you, because you had each other, and that’s what matters the most.

add yourself to my taglist!

general taglist: @tatesimper @bluvclouds @i-love-scott-mccall

obx taglist: @maybanksslut @spideyspixies @oldschoolkiddo @iwritesiriusly @iamninaannaisreading @nyxie75 @mendesyourmine

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron imagine #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #obx #outer banks #obx 2 #outer banks 2 #rafe cameron oneshot #rafe cameron blurb #useramourtentiaa #tuserliane

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todoroki-waifu · 3 years ago

Note

Can I ask for some fluff with Chifuyu~~Where girlfriend reader is use to being affectionate (she’s a naturally affectionate person) so when saying sweet things to him, hugging, cuddling, hand holding, etc. she’s not shy about it and doesn’t really blush compared to Chifuyu who is the opposite! Like he’s always blushing bad and nervous with her being so sweet or close like that. So what if one time Chifuyu decides to be confident and try and make her blush hard for him instead?!! What does he do and/or say💗?

Note: Thank you soooo much for the request! I’m so sorry that this is so late! Not sure if you saw my previous post, but I was out of town and got sick. Feeling much better now! Please don’t hate me!

Chifuyu x F! Reader

Warning: Some slight suggestive NSFW themes? Cursing (just ass and hell was used a couple times here). Female reader.

Genre: Fluff and comedy

Word Count: 1,193

----------

Note: This was the video I used for reference lolol. Chifuyu was desperate. He wanted to make you feel the way he did. He wanted to see if he could make you nervous or blush.

No.

He needed to know if he could also make your heart flutter the way you did to him.

But maybe going to Baji wasn't really the best idea. Chifuyu was hesitant at first, but he trusted his captain and hoped that he could provide him with some quality advice.

"Slap her ass." "Wha-what?" "You know, give her ass a little smack." Baji said as he tied his hair back to keep cool from the burning sun. The Toman gang and you were hanging out at the park, taking advantage of the clear weather and summer break. "I can't do that! That's disrespectful!" "Not unless she told you she likes and wants you to do it." Baji replies quickly. He'd never suggest touching anyone without permission. "I wouldn't know. I never tried it." You and Chifuyu have been dating for a few months, but your physical touches only consisted of kissing, holding hands, and hugging. He was too nervous to go any further. He really valued your and his relationship! "Okay, okay. I got it." Baji grins as he calls you over. "Wait, what's your idea?" He sees you slowly approaching him. "Tell her her ass looks juicy. It's a trend going around and apparently girls like it." "What?! I can't say that! Isn't that a little too much?" Chifuyu was trying to think of an alternative but it was too late. "Say what?" You smile at your boyfriend, tilting your head as Baji slaps his hand on his friend's back. "Yeah, buddy, you told me to call her over. What did you wanna say?" He encouraged his vice captain. "Oh, need some privacy? My bad. Let me give you some space." "Everything okay?" You asked, seeing how he looked a bit nervous once Baji left. "Ye-yeah. I just wanted to tell you that your b-butt looks. . . j-juicy." God he just wanted to punch himself until he passed out. This was such a bad idea! Why the hell did he even go with Baji's plan!? "Wait, really? You think so?" Chifuyu hears the excitement in your voice, taking a moment to process your reaction. He thought you'd slap him or think of him as a pervert! "Ye-yeah! It looks great!" He quickly responds. "I'm so happy!" You squealed as you did a little dance. "I've been training with Mikey and doing these new exercises to build my endurance. I have noticed that my muscles are a little bit tighter so I'm glad you noticed, too!" You've been learning how to fight so you wouldn't be a liability to the others. Your main goal was to keep up in a fight so you weren't really focused on building your bottom. But hey, you'll take the added bonus. "Really? Well, it's been paying off! You look amazing, babe! I mean, you always do." Chifuyu felt slightly guilty that he didn't notice until you twirled around a bit. He didn't want to be rude if you caught him staring, but he did steal enough glances to realize a difference. In all honesty, he didn't care much for physical looks. What was important to him was the inside and you had one beautiful soul. "Yay! Thank you!" You turned to the side to show more of your backside. "Did you wanna touch it?" Cue Chifuyu's face erupting into different shades of red. ----------- The first attempt was a failure for him. The only positive was that you were happy with your progress, but you didn't blush once! It was your date night today so he thought he'd try out his new approach this time. Without his captain's help. He got the idea from one of his shoujo mangas and prayed that it would be a success. Chifuyu arrived earlier than the designated meeting time, not wanting to be late. "Chifuyu-kun!" He heard you call his name as you rushed over to him. "Sorry, I hope you weren't waiting too long." "Not at all. I just got here as well." "That's good. I was afraid I wasn't gonna make it. There's a lot of people out today." You fixed your hair. "How do I look? It was super crowded at the train station." "Gorgeous as always." He smiles as he gently takes your hand and plants a soft kiss. "Ready to go, princess?" The only nickname he's ever used with you was 'babe' or 'baby' so he thought to switch it up a bit this time. "Princess?" Although his heart was pounding at his attempt to act smooth around you, he kept his gaze on you. Was that a blush? Was your heart finally fluttering? "That's new. I love it!" You giggle as you now wrap your arms around his neck. "Then if I'm your princess, that means you're my prince." He feels you lay a quick kiss on his lips as you stare lovingly at him. "O-of course!" Now he was faltering. "I hope that our story will have a 'happily ever after'." You buried your face in his chest and he's thankful that you couldn't see his flustered reaction. Chifuyu's heart is joyfully dancing in his chest while he couldn't believe that you'd want a happy ending with him, too!

----------- Note: This video was used for reference lolol. The vice captain's next effort was inspired by a video he saw while scrolling through his phone. This had to be it! He's never done this before so he was excited to see your reaction. You were hanging out in his room, trying to pick a movie to watch. While you browsed through the selection, he asked if you could stand up. "I wanna show you something." He tries his best to not stutter. "Sure! What is it?" "Hold your hands together." He interlocks his fingers and you do the same. You mimic his movements, watching him lift all his fingers from one hand. Once your fingers were up, he laced both your hands with his, raising your arms above your head. Chifuyu swifty and gently pins you against the wall while his free hand settles on your hip. "Chi-chifuyu-kun..!" Your __(e/c) eyes widen as a red hue decorated your cheeks. There it was! He did it! Gosh, you looked so cute! "A-ah, sorry! Was that too much?" He instantly releases you, Chifuyu's daring demeanor now replaced with his usual, bashful self. Your boyfriend looks away, trying not to seem like he was relishing in your embarrassment. He kind of was and he'll forever keep that image in his mental file, but he didn't want to make things awkward. Chifuyu then feels a slight tug on his sleeve and he directs his head towards the source. He sees his girlfriend, staring up at him with big and mesmerizing __(e/c) orbs while your cheeks continue to hold their red tint. "Can you..can you do that again?" You ask timidly, pulling him slightly closer to you. Heat suddenly rises to his entire face, his mind too frazzled to produce any coherent sentences. You were definitely going to be the death of him.

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nctsworld · 4 years ago

Text

the yuletide boyfriend

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ your one wish this year is to not be single during the holidays. yangyang, as your best friend, takes it upon himself to be your temporary boyfriend. soon enough, both parties begin to wish this new arrangement could last beyond the holidays. // part of the x-mas in ncity collection WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ implied ‌anxiety attack (during the first part of dec 24th – skip if need to), smut, mutual m*sturbation, couch s*x, angst, miscommunication, swearing RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ mature TAGLIST ⇾ @infnteen

AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ this is my longest fic to date and also... might be my worst b/c i feel like the angst plot points don’t really make sense... but i hope y’all still enjoy!!!

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t share or repost without credit!

NOVEMBER 30th

“So, anything special on your wishlist this year?”

Your best friend, Yangyang, asks you as you two sit next to each other on one of the many plush lounge couches in the Psychology building. It’s the usual lunch spot where you meet with him during your break between lectures.

The Psych building held much sentimental value for both of you because you met in Psych 101 during first year. Fast-forward three years later, neither of you expected to be the close friends that you are today.

Chewing your sandwich, you ponder on his question for a bit. Through the transparent glass walls leading to outside, you see the trickle of students heading towards the building since class is about to start for the noon round of lectures. A couple, you assume by the tight hand-holding and nose kissing, giggles as they enter the building, glued to one another by the hip.

“Not really.” You drop your head downward to your lunch container, smiling to yourself. “I’m honestly just happy to have Mark in my life, especially at this point in the year.”

Yangyang nods in accordance and smiles too, understanding the story behind your sentiment.

The boyfriends you’ve had since first year have always broken up with you before the holidays, right before the end of November. Since you only became close during second year, Yangyang’s been around for two out of three of your cursed holiday break-ups.

To have Mark, your latest boyfriend, be with you and it being already December tomorrow, it was truly a blessing for you and a silver lining that maybe this was the year to break the curse. Yangyang was grateful too, wanting you to have the utmost happiness.

You take another bite of your sandwich and tilt your chin toward the ramen eater.

“You?”

Yangyang slurps a few more noodles before he answers.

“I mean, the new Playstation would be nice,” he hums, mouth full.

Pointing the tip of your sandwich, you joke, “I’ll get it for you, but only if we share custody over it.”

“Mm-mm,” he shakes his head during a mid-slurp. “You know I can’t promise that.”

Both of you laugh in unison, living in the calm before the oncoming storm.

DECEMBER 5th

The E-Sports club for the university is hosting a party tonight and because Yangyang’s on one of the professional teams, he asked a few weeks ago if you and Mark wanted to attend. Of course you accepted; Mark also had some friends in the club.

However, when you text Yangyang in the afternoon, stating a change of mind, he knows something’s off.

Half an hour before the party starts, Yangyang decides to visit you. Thankfully you both lived on campus, but even if you lived across town, he’d still bus out to see how you were doing. He does it all the time to visit his family, anyway.

In the living room, the two sudden knocks at your door startle you. Peering through the peephole, you see the usual sight of your best friend, his lips curled upward and thumbs tucked in his pockets as he rocks on the balls of his feet.

It feels like an eternity for him when you unlock your door. The hinges squeal as you open it hesitatingly, your face barely appearing through the agape crack.

Immediately, his smile dissolves. Your face is drained and blood-shot eyes avoiding his own confront him.

Yangyang has only seen you cry twice in the three years he’s known you:

Once, when you were freaking the fuck out over potentially failing a course (but, on the upside, you ended up passing the final to save your grade).

The second time was at his house for a family dinner, when his mom accidentally added too much hot chili sauce to her homemade beef noodle soup (let’s just say you weren’t the only one crying that night).

Those were tears of dread and physical discomfort.

But this… this was crying he’s never seen from you before. His chest collapses inward, fearful of the reason behind your tears.

His voice shakes as he asks, “What happened? Are you okay?”

Neither of you are major huggers and only exchange them on the rare occasion.

However, this situation screams the necessity of it, so Yangyang lunges towards you, the collision swinging the door out of the way. His arms embrace you like a large, warm blanket. Comforting and safe.

Despite the affection, emptiness has taken over your body. Tonight, you’re a dead, empty shell of who you normally are.

You feel weak to the bone, but you muster up enough energy to scarcely raise your arms over his back to return the hug. Your eyes are dry from all the crying you’ve done all day, but apparently you have more tears left in you to spare.

Your eyelids snap shut and your jaw clenches.

“Mark broke up with me.”

Your words are muffled into his shoulder, but Yangyang hears it crystal clear.

You break down, sobbing out of control over the statement.

As aforementioned, Yangyang’s been around for your last two, now three, break-ups. Sure, he’s aware of how grumpy and distant you can get, but you never cried in front of him. You made an effort to never have him see you at your lowest point.

And yet, here you are, drowning him in your misery. Guilt washes over you for drenching his bomber jacket, but Yangyang couldn’t give two shits. His arms squeeze tighter while he rubs your back tenderly.

After several minutes pass and your waterworks abate, you peel away from him. You sniffle and rub your nose with the back of your hand.

“Sorry about cancelling last minute.”

“Hey, no need to apologize,” he whispers soothingly.

“I’m just… so fucking frustrated.”

With fatigued eyes, you drag yourself back inside your apartment. Yangyang discreetly closes the door behind him and hurriedly uses his feet to push off his shoes. As he does so, your mouth begins to run off while you slowly pace around aimlessly.

“Fucking done with boyfriends, especially when they think it’s so fucking awesome to keep breaking up with me right before the holidays.”

He kicks off his last stubborn shoe and catches you raking your hands through your hair, pulling it back firmly. Your lips are trembling, along with your entire frame.

“Like I get that I’m horrible and needy and emotional—”

His mouth opens, wanting to cut in to disagree with you with all his heart, but he clamps it back shut and swallows, allowing you to blow your steam off.

“—but can’t they wait until the fucking new year? I don’t know, or maybe just don’t date me in the first place! I don’t know, I don’t fucking know anymore. I’m just cursed, Yangyang...”

You flop down onto the couch and sink into the ocean of shiny pleather, shutting your eyes and trying to stop crying for the nth time. The deep sting behind your eyelids pain you, but it pains Yangyang more to watch the events unfolding ahead of him.

Unsure of what to say, Yangyang walks around the room. His gaze falls on your laptop screen and he frowns at the mostly bare Word document that stares back at him:

“WISHLIST: -KEEP ONE (1) FUCKING BOYFRIEND DURING THE CHRISTMAS SEASON!!!!!!!! GOD FUCKING SDKMFLDS”

There are a few more lines below it with more profanities and keyboard smashing. He quickly darts away, a pang of guilt striking for invading your privacy.

Then, he turns to you on the couch again. You’re now covering your eyes with your forearm, pressing your lips together. His chest twists and his throat is arid as a desert.

You’re in shambles and he’s dying to pick up the shattered pieces of you, wants to glue you back together. On a regular basis, Yangyang’s a talking machine and can talk your ear off for hours, but right now, he doesn’t know what to say to you in your current state. He second-guesses himself, wonders if he’s even that great of a friend if he can’t comfort you in your worst times.

Blowing out a long sigh and removing your arm, you speak aloud, “You should get going to the party.”

Like awakening from a deep slumber, you rise up sluggishly and sit up on the couch, slouched over. The other figure in the room steps closer to you.

“Sorry about your jacket, by the way,” you say. Your body is still, but your glazed eyes move to the dark spot on the middle of his shoulder. He glances at it and shrugs.

“It’s better like this anyway,” he says with a gentle smile, and the tight knot in his heart softens at the flicker of your own smile, albeit a small one. Unfortunately, it fades in a few seconds. “I don’t want to leave you like this, though.”

You stare at the used, crumpled balls of tissues scattered on the living room table. Some also ended up on the floor. Break-ups are shit and 98% inevitable, but you know you’ll eventually get over it. You always do.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

He raises an eyebrow, as if asking, “Are you sure?” The lack of a worded reply causes you to notice the question written on his face.

“Go,” you plead with a feeble laugh. “Have fun for me.”

Both of you head towards your front door again. Crossing your arms, you lean your head against the door frame and attempt a smile for your best friend.

“Thanks again for checking up on me.”

Yangyang nods with a half-smile, half-pout, “Of course.”

You give him a departing wave prior to sealing your door.

Usually, Yangyang would bus from your place to the student union building, where the party is being held. Instead, he zippers up his jacket and stuffs his fists into his pockets, opting to bear the early winter chill to walk his thoughts off. His blazing self-doubt burns at first, but he overcomes it by focusing on ideas to fix your accursed dating rut instead.

Halfway through the walk, a light bulb moment occurs. A plan begins to brew on the surface of his mind and he thinks on it for the rest of the week.

DECEMBER 11th

It’s been almost a week since you last saw Yangyang.

Finals started already, so classes were done for the semester and thus, your lunch meet-ups halted too. On top of that, since you were simultaneously moping and studying, you hadn’t really texted him much, nor had he, besides the occasional check-up text on how studying was going and random memes. Yangyang knew you preferred time alone to heal and he respected that.

He also thought six days was enough time to get yourself back on your feet.

Yangyang’s at your front door once again, but this time with two bowls of his mom’s beef noodle soup in tow.

“Long time, no see,” you greet. Your tone is chipper, but your eyes look heavy, which could be partially from studying, Yangyang thinks. His smile deepens, content that you seem a lot better than the last time he visited.

“Delivery for two,” he raises the bag in his hand.

“And if I told you I already ate dinner?” you playfully retort.

The boyish man shrugs defeatedly, “Then I’ll tell my mom you hate her cooking—”

“You didn’t say it was your mom’s, Yangyang. Oh, my God,” you gasp, half-mockingly. You rush to grab the bags out of his hand and stroll towards your tiny kitchen. “Start off with that next time.”

As you remove the containers from the bag and onto the granite countertop, Yangyang shuts the door and takes his shoes off.

“So, I’m gonna be upfront and say that I may have come here with a proposal.”

“Changed your mind about the shared custody of the Playstation?”

“I’m still considering that one.” Finally in his socks, he slings his backpack off his shoulder and plops it onto the couch along with his jacket. He stands next to you by the counter. “But it’s on the same page as that. Remember that day we were talking about wishlists?”

“Mm-hmm,” you hum as you rip off the lid of one of the bowls. Blatant wisps fly upward and you inhale the savoury aroma, followed by a heavenly sigh.

“Last time I was here… I might’ve seen what you wrote on your laptop.”

Your expression immediately changes into full-on cringe. You bring a palm over to your face.

“Oh, God. Let’s not talk about that. That was just weepy, lonely me talking.”

Yangyang pops off the lid for his bowl and steps into your kitchen, rummaging through your drawers for chopsticks. “So you’re telling me you don’t want a boyfriend for Christmas?”

Your hand flies off your face. Eyes widening, you spew, “Do you have a boyfriend in your pocket, ready for me to have?”

In your open hand, he places a pair of chopsticks into it. “Well, actually, I was thinking—”

Sternly, you point the chopsticks at him. “Don’t you dare set me up with your friends.”

He counters and points his at you, “Even better than that.”

With your interest piqued, you slide yourself onto the counter stool and mix the noodles around, anticipating to hear Yangyang’s fantastic plan. Your friend sits on the other stool, facing you. He pauses for a second, taking a deep breath.

“Why don’t I be your boyfriend for the holidays?”

You freeze, and the noodles’ drips above your bowl are deafening to both individuals. Laughing awkwardly, you break your frozen state to drop your chopsticks and turn your head to look at him.

Sputtering, you say, “What?”

Unnerved, his mouth pinches to one side, thinking maybe he shouldn’t have even said anything in the first place. This was stupid, so stupid, but it’s out in the open and Yangyang already dug his grave—he may as well lay in it.

“Well, for one, it’s something on your wishlist that I can easily get,” he pauses mid-sentence, glancing upward in thought. “Well, really, fill? Is that a better way to put it?”

He continues, eyes back on you, “And two, I’m not setting you up with a stranger or someone you wouldn’t be comfortable with. I assume you know me well enough that you’re comfortable around me?”

Yangyang lifts an upturned palm and raises an eyebrow, waiting for a response to his assumption. Petulantly, you shake your head playfully and stick out your tongue at him.

Rubbing the back of his neck, his gaze drops down to the floor for his last point. His voice lowers.

“And, I don’t know, we’d just hang out like we usually do during that time, except we’d do more couple-y things.”

Realizing the implication of his words, he widens his eyes. “I mean, we'll do whatever you’re comfortable with, obviously. We don’t have to do any of the physical stuff—”

You burst into a giggle at his rambling and hold a hand out, cutting him off. “Okay, Yang. I get it.”

Yangyang watches your next moves carefully. You’re peering off to one side and picking at the tips of your fingers. After a minute that feels like forever, you nod slowly.

“I guess you have a point. We are sorta like a couple already.”

Your best friend sighs in relief, grinning that you’re not outright rejecting the idea.

“So,” you meet his eyes and bunch a shoulder up towards your ear. “We’ll just be a couple until what, New Year’s?”

“Yeah, sure,” he shrugs indifferently. “Whatever you want. It’s your Christmas wish.”

You chuckle and shake your head in disbelief that you two are actually making an agreement for Yangyang to be your temporary, holiday boyfriend.

Honestly, it’s a little crazy... but maybe it’s the perfect thing to get your mind off of Mark and the handful of holiday exes hanging above your head.

“Okay, since my last final is on the 21st, let’s start ‘dating’ then and we’ll play everything by ear, see how it goes.”

Yangyang bobs his head eagerly. “Sounds good, soon-to-be girlfriend.”

He sticks a hand out for you to shake. You take it firmly, sealing the deal and flashing him a grin.

“Soon-to-be boyfriend.”

Although the night goes on like usual between the two of you, you couldn’t deny how ecstatic you are to finally have a boyfriend during the holidays, even if it was technically your best friend as a stand-in.

DECEMBER 21st

Tonight’s your first date with Yangyang.

That sounds weird to say, you admit to yourself, but it’s the truth.

After you stroll out of your last final of the semester, Yangyang’s waiting for you inside near the main exit of the building with several layers on, including his hoodie over his head and a knitted scarf underneath. His attention leaves his phone and he stuffs it into pocket as he notices you heading over.

“Hey, girlfriend,” he welcomes you, beaming.

You snicker at the unfamiliar label. You wonder if you’re going to get used to this, even if it’s only for two weeks.

“Hey, boyfriend,” you grin harder as the word falls from your lips, trying your best not to outright burst into laughter. “Where we heading off to?”

Although you said both of you could play the dating by ear, Yangyang’s been keen on scheduling plans for the upcoming days. You told him he didn’t have to, however, he insisted by saying that he wouldn’t only be a horrible boyfriend, but a horrible friend if he couldn’t make the next weeks fun for you.

Yangyang was anything but a horrible friend, and the fact that he was willing to be your holiday boyfriend to make you happy proved it further. Nevertheless, you gladly let him take the reins.

“I was thinking the movies tonight? See the latest Marvel film?”

Concurring to the idea, you scurry towards the bus stop and are movie-theatre bound to the nearest one off-campus. Arriving at the theatre, Yangyang and you buy your tickets and a popcorn to share, then head into the respective auditorium where the movie is playing. Since the movie’s been running for a couple of weeks, the auditorium is fairly empty, giving you two the chance to snag perfect middle seats with nobody else is in the row.

Up to this point, aside from the name-dropping of boyfriend and girlfriend, this feels less like a date and more like any other hang-out with him. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing awkward.

But that changes during a third of the movie.

You’re both so immersed by the screen that neither party notices the other’s hand when both of you reach for the popcorn in Yangyang’s lap at the same time.

A jolt runs through as your hands brush together. The duo’s eyes tear away from the screen and flit to the action happening in real-time. The touch lingers for several moments.

“Sorry,” you quickly mumble, drawing your hand back slightly, but still hovering over the popcorn.

“Uhm,” Yangyang licks his lips and visibly gulps under the screen’s bright glare.

He whispers, his voice almost cracking, “As your boyfriend, can I hold your hand?”

Okay, this is just your best friend, acting as your temporary boyfriend, asking to hold your hand. No big deal, no big deal at all.

Yet, the thunderous knocking in your ears, louder than the explosions blasting through the theatre’s speakers, suggests otherwise.

You don’t even register it, but you’re already nodding in response. Your breathing slows to the rate of Yangyang’s hand inching over. At the anticipated contact, you gasp softly. His smooth fingers clasp over yours. Since the arm rest in the middle of you is positioned upward, there’s no obtrusion and you relax, letting your hands mingle in between the empty space.

Without looking at one another, both of you smile bashfully to yourselves as you try to continue to focus on the screen.

After a while, because you aren’t exactly holding hands, you spread your fingers, hastily doing so because you don’t want him to think you’re breaking the interaction, and twist your palm to properly interlock hands with him. You give Yangyang’s hand a warm, gentle squeeze. He does the same and even strokes his thumb against your skin.

Talk about playing everything by ear. Who knew you’d be hand in hand on the first date?

You attempt to not think much on it, but Yangyang’s hand in yours feels... so right, like your hand was made for this, for his to hold. Like you should’ve done this way sooner.

And if Yangyang’s thoughts could be heard, he’s thinking the same.

Despite the mutual fear of sweaty palms, neither of you desire to let go, so much that you not only hold hands during the rest of the movie, but throughout the bus ride back to campus and all the way until he escorts you to your front door.

With a certain charge in the atmosphere, you exchange sweet good-byes. That night, after the culmination of stress from finals and your worries of your holiday exes, you finally have a peaceful sleep, looking forward to your date with Yangyang tomorrow.

DECEMBER 22nd

“Babe, how do I look?”

“Very pretty, honey.” A bundled up Yangyang winks at you from behind his phone.

The second date is an evening at a Christmas light festival at a botanical garden on the outskirts of town. The lights illuminate so strongly; there was a glowing dome-like hue over the location that seemed to reach the dark sky as you got off the bus.

When stepping foot into the garden, all the encompassing lights mesmerize you. Lights on the various greenery, lights as decorative art pieces, lights lining the pathways. Different shades of colours and shapes engulf the massive area.

Yangyang’s currently in the middle of taking your photo near an arch tangled with dark blue, gold, and white bulbs. All night long, you’ve been mockingly using endearing terms, but, despite the frigid air, your cheeks heat up over something else he just said.

“You think I’m pretty?” you genuinely ask, breaking your pose.

He lowers his phone a bit, his jaw dangling.

“Uh, I mean,” he giggles awkwardly, nodding softly. “Yeah.”

Yangyang never told you, but he initially sat near you in Psych 101 because he thought you were the most stunning girl in the class. And sure, he was a little disappointed at the time to find out you had a boyfriend, but that didn’t mean you two couldn’t still be friends. Other than the first few weeks he had a crush on you, he’s never thought of you as more than a friend.

But those feelings are resurfacing, hitting him in the chest like a bag of bricks, due to moments like this one—you’re batting your eyelids, gaze straying elsewhere, and adorably chewing on your lower lip.

“And you’re not just saying that as my holiday boyfriend?”

Pouting to one side, he shakes his head cutely. “Mm-mm.”

On the flipside, the beginning with Yangyang for you was strictly platonic. You were dating Haechan at the time you met him. When Haechan broke up with you later that fall, you kept a distance from dating for a while, heartbroken from the high school love gone sour. During that period, you never told him, but you did run through the possibility of dating Yangyang since you got along so well... until you met Jaemin earlier the next semester, who stole your heart. Ever since then, you’ve never seen Yangyang under that light again.

Despite that, you can’t deny how attractive he is, and now that you’re single and technically dating him, you embrace the fact with open arms.

Beaming as bright as the lights, you tug him by the end of his puffer jacket’s sleeve to bring him closer to you.

“C’mon, handsome, let’s take some pictures together.” Prickles rise under Yangyang’s cheeks from the off-hand compliment.

Holding your phone up in the air at about an arm’s length away, the side of your heads touch to prepare for a few selfies. When you finish capturing them, Yangyang’s hovering over your shoulder as you scroll through to glance through the photos.

“We look good together,” you comment. “Don’t you think?”

In sync, your heads turn to meet each other. Your eyes waver from the blatant clouds of your breaths and over to his lips. The clouds become rapid bursts as you begin to lean forward. So does Yangyang.

“Do you guys want a picture together?” someone suddenly asks. The abrupt voice drags you both apart instantly, crushing the moment into pieces.

“Sure,” you peep, fumbling to hand your phone over to the stranger.

Posing, Yangyang’s hand rests around the middle of your back, which is the norm when you take pictures with him, but he pulls you in snugly. You smile even wider, relishing in the new-level of intimacy and allow yourself to be truly content among his presence.

“You guys are such a cute couple,” the stranger gushes while they return your phone prior to walking away.

“I guess we are, huh, babe?” you jut your tongue out in jest at him. This time, you indulge in the endearing term without a sliver of mockery.

Yangyang copies you, jutting his tongue out further than yours, and seizes your hand to continue the tour around the gleaming garden.

The almost-kiss isn’t mentioned for the rest of the night, nor is it acted upon, but both individuals dwell on the near occurrence before sleep that evening, staring longingly at their bedroom ceiling.

DECEMBER 23rd

For the third date, you find yourselves at the campus’ dedicated ice rink arena to partake in ice skating.

You’ve skated a few times in the past, but you’re by no means a pro. On the other hand, this is apparently Yangyang’s first time, and he’s already skating circles around you.

“Show off,” you grumble as he does another lap past you. Your gloved hands are splayed out in front of you, careful not to fall flat on your face.

Turning on his blades, he rebounds over to you.

“Sorry,” he pants. His raised cheeks glow an adorable shade of pink. “This is really fun when you get the hang of it.”

Yangyang intertwines his fingers with yours before you can say anything. “C’mon, take my hand.”

At first, it was sweet to skate alongside your holiday boyfriend, notwithstanding the few times you almost trip. As the minutes pass, you think you’re getting the hang of it, but suddenly, Yangyang unleashes your hand and glides ahead of you, abandoning you to slide at a swift pace that is definitely out of your comfort zone.

“Yangyang, what the fuck?!” you screech, completely disregarding the handful of surrounding parents with their kids, the former sending daggers your direction. Your ankles struggle to make a T-shape to stop, but the struggling only somehow makes you move faster.

As he spins to face you, now skating backwards with ease, he says, “See, you got the hang of it-oomph—”

Air’s struck from his lungs when you crash into his body. Thankfully, Yangyang skids his blades harshly against the ice and is able to steady and support you within his arms.

“You little fucker,” you gripe, lightly punching him in the arm.

He chuckles blithely, “Sorry, but it was kinda funny, you gotta admit.”

You breathe a large huff, which makes you note how your hair is falling over your face after the catastrophe. You’re about to lift your hand to rearrange the strands, but Yangyang beats you to it and is in the midst of tucking them behind your ear.

The knocking in your ears reappears with a vengeance and the physical source of the knocking is thrashing violently against your chest.

Your scorching breaths fuse in the refrigerated rink as Yangyang eliminates the inches of space between, his plush mouth ultimately converging with yours.

You have to constantly remind yourself to breathe under Yangyang’s intensity, and remind yourself that you’re in a public space and shouldn’t be making out like this.

But everyone’s skating around the couple, daring to not disrupt the affectionate display.

God, you don’t know when was the last time you’ve been kissed like this. Have you ever even experienced a kiss that was a fraction of this? Yangyang daintily cups your cheeks like you’re glass, but his lips press ruggedly into yours, inflaming your entirety and melting any existence of your figurative fragility.

You ignore the echo in the back of your mind that reminds you he’s your temporary boyfriend.

The Talk will inevitably occur, but your future self could deal with it. Presently, you’re too caught up, drowning in Yangyang’s embrace.

DECEMBER 24th

On Christmas Eve, Yangyang decides to bring you to an outdoor Christmas market.

Understandably, since it’s the day before Christmas, the place is absolutely packed. For the first fifteen minutes or so, it’s joyous being immersed in the Christmas spirit with the assorted little shops and their respective products. You’re holding Yangyang’s hand tightly, pointing and half-shouting over the bustle about the items that catch your eye.

Unfortunately, someone accidentally bumps against your arms and your hand is gone from his.

Swivelling your head, searching through the crowd, it occurs to you that you officially lost Yangyang.

Your feet come to a halt as your hand attempts to dig into your jacket pocket to pluck your phone out, but the moving crowd forces you to constantly follow the stream.

You yell for him, but words can’t materialize. Your windpipe tightens. Your breath is becoming shallower and shallower. Blood pulses in your ears alarmingly, blocking out the clamour from around you. Your mind’s running everywhere without control.

Where is your boyfriend?

No, scratch that, he’s not your actual boyfriend—where is your best friend?

Did he leave you? He would never.

Right?

But what happens when all of this is over? Will you still have your best friend?

You’ve avoided The Talk long enough, but you didn’t expect to catch feelings for him. Not like this.

Maybe you’re just destined to be alone.

Is this how it feels to actually lose him?

Tears fight your vision. You hear a faint call of your name, but you can’t urge yourself to turn around, sinking only further into the sea of anonymity. You’re just a face in a crowd, all alone, with no one who cares—

Yangyang grasps you by the arm and maneuvers you aside to a less busy area behind one of the vendor stands.

“Oh, God, thought I lost you there—”

You cut him off, hugging him with all your might and stuff your face in his chest cushioned by the downy layers of his winter jacket. Yangyang immediately drapes his arms securely around you, reading your uneasiness.

“Hey, I got you. I got you,” he soothes, running a hand through your hair. “God, not my best idea. Sorry for bringing you here.”

You shake your head, wordlessly informing him that it’s okay. You’re just glad to be with him again.

“Wanna go home?”

You nod solemnly, and Yangyang zips you out of there in minutes with his arm tucked by your side, ensuring he doesn’t lose you in the crowd again.

Fortunately, the jitters mostly disappear when you arrive at your place in the late afternoon. You’re in the middle of rummaging through your keys to unlock your door.

“Sorry I didn’t have anything else planned for today,” he mumbles, leaning with folded arms against the wall.

“Did you...” You insert the correct key and turn the lock, clicking the door open. Your gaze lifts to match his. “Did you wanna maybe have dinner with me tonight? I was thinking of ordering pizza in.”

The grin that reaches his eyes is a sufficient answer for you.

“Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” He hangs his arm around your shoulder and plants a kiss atop your head.

After chomping down pizza and playing a few rounds of Super Smash Bros. on Yangyang’s Switch, you peer over to him on your living room couch while he’s figuring out which character he should play next.

The little mental voice in the back of your mind prods you, reminding that you should really, really have The Talk soon. The Talk that you swept under the rug at the start by saying you’d play everything by ear.

Four dates later, and the thought of this ending scares the living daylights out of you. This not only including the interim relationship, but the dire possibility of the friendship itself too. Is it possible to go back to how you were, flipping it off like a light switch?

But the internal voice is smothered as you’re drawn to his pouting lips in thought. His pouting, oh-so kissable lips. Following the ice skating kiss yesterday, you only shared a good-bye kiss when he dropped you off. Since then, you’ve been itching to have his lips on yours again.

Yangyang eventually detects your lack of focus and finds you gawking at his mouth. Your gaze dashes to his eyes, blinking innocently, but then his eyes flicker to your mouth.

The tension in the room snaps. You two carefully throw the Switch controllers off to one side and attach yourselves together. Unlike the crashing of your bodies at the ice rink, this one is purposeful. Deliberated, as his forehead presses into yours and his tender caress carries your cheek. Your body plummets backwards until Yangyang pins you completely into the couch.

Initially, the lip-locking is gentle and mild. Your fingers lay in the vicinity of his angular visage and sturdy upper frame, in contrast to his hand curling around your waist in a light squeeze.

Soon, hands traverse to other regions—his back, your thigh, his stomach, your ass. Each touch seeking, craving, whining. Tongues slinking and dancing with appetite. Your bodies buzz for more.

Open-mouthed kisses transition from the damp lips to each other’s necks. The touches dig deeper, thriving with hunger. Your back bows, body curving into his. Grinding ensues and his robust desire is blatant against your own pulsing passion.

“You don’t happen to have any condoms on you, do you?” you groan upwards to the ceiling.

He retracts from your neck to swing his head side to side, grumbling a “Sorry, we can stop...” yet you interrupt his apology by cupping his covered length. The guttural groan he exhales into your lips makes you shiver with pleasure.

“Doesn’t mean we still can’t have fun with our hands...” you say slyly.

“Fuck yeah,” he rasps, smirking, before diving in again to taste your mouth.

Clothes are stripped with the assistance of each other, leaving you with only your bra on while Yangyang opts to be completely bare. He tops your body in the same position once more.

On the couch arm rest, your head is perched with his hand clutching the space next to it for leverage. Both figures are too scatter-brained to delve into the exquisite nudity of one another, hands flying desperately to your respective arousals.

Your pretty fingers wrap around his possession almost exactly when he dips two digits into your warmth. In unison, two sharp, quiet gasps pierce the room.

“Shit, you’re so wet,” he hisses observantly. You’re so overwhelmed by the bliss that you can’t assemble any sort of response.

Your mouth’s parted to one side, chest soaring with each plunge. Through his clouded vision, he ambles over your curves and lines and yearns to see your breasts, but he respects your choice of keeping it on and opts to ambush the expanse with kisses. Your chest is launched further into his mouth and Yangyang assumes you’re enjoying this.

Fearing friction burn, you drop him from your grip momentarily, swiping a few licks over your palm. When your hand pumps him again, now drenched with saliva, grunts reverberate against your skin.

“Yangyang?” you whimper, causing his face to pull away from the temple of your body.

“Yeah, baby?”

“I’m-I’m close.” And he can attest to it; the contractions around him are increasing, harshly squeezing his fingers.

“Same,” he pants.

Your best friend flicks his wrist with ignition, securing your waves of elation. You attempt to do the same, but it’s difficult when he’s also sloppily thrusting himself into your fist, so you simply clench your grasp harder. His features pinch and choppy moans dribble as he yields to his climax, gushing himself over your stomach.

Still sucking in lungfuls of air, Yangyang kisses you tenderly before removing himself to clean up the mess he made.

Following the clean-up, while putting on your clothes, Yangyang expresses how he should get going since it’s getting late.

“Did you wanna stay the night?” you pipe up.

His mind races, debating on whether to leave or not, anxious to blur the lines of your relationship even further.

Sure, he’s your temporary boyfriend, thus staying over at your place shouldn’t mean anything. But this agreement is ending next week, and he’s questioning if you two can stay just friends after this, knowing that he’s going to want more. Yangyang has had a taste of the what if, and it’s now irrevocable.

He wants you all for himself. Selfishly, but deeply.

For the sake of keeping this a great thing for you, he shoves his thoughts aside. This is all about you and for your benefit, anyhow.

“Uh, sure, I can take the couch like I always—”

“Yangyang, you just put your fingers inside of me,” you snicker, snagging him by the hand to your bedroom. “C’mon.”

The rest of the night is relatively chaste with some kisses and touches here and there. Eventually, you fall asleep facing each other with your fingers interlocked, excited for the big day tomorrow.

DECEMBER 25th

Normally on Christmas, Yangyang and you spend it with your respective families, but coincidentally, both of your families, your parents being retired and all, ended up vacationing this year, leaving the two of you to spend it with each other.

After getting up around noon, Yangyang heads to his place to grab his gift. He takes longer than you expected because, as it turns out, he also went home to grab baking goods he bought beforehand since he wants to make butter cookies with you today.

The cookies end up fine, but the mess is another story. Besides the chaos on the counter, your faces and aprons are splotched with flour (you swear he started it, but he disagrees and stands his ground that you’re the perpetrator). With a damp cloth, Yangyang aids you to clean, but not forgetting to wipe your face and giving you pecks over your cheeks and nose.

The baking and aftermath occupies most of the afternoon, so dinner comes in the form of fancy, romantic instant ramen for two. Afterwards, you two sit in your living room and start to exchange gifts.

Yangyang hands his over to you first. From the size of the gift and the crumpled, oddly-shaped wrapping, you already can guess it’s a stuffed plushie of a cute animal to add to your never ending collection. You hug it tightly with a large smile.

“It’s so cute, thank you!” you squeal, but you change your expression in an instant to a serious pout. “But you can’t steal this one like you did with my Ice Bear plushie.”

“Hey, I didn’t steal Ice Bear, I just forgot to give him back.” You roll your eyes sarcastically and he laughs. “I’ll bring him over tomorrow, if it makes you feel better.”

Then, when it’s your turn, you head into your bedroom and come out with a large, white shopping bag. His eyebrows raise, unsure of what could warrant a gift this size.

“For being my holiday boyfriend,” you grin, placing the bag in front of his feet.

Despite the hugest smile on your face, his heart sinks at the label for a second, but he blinks and wills himself to look inside the bag.

His eyes shoot open, so much that you’re scared you might have to stuff them back into his sockets.

Yangyang slips the box out of the bag with precision and stares at it speechlessly.

It’s the new Playstation.

He shifts his eyes toward you. You’re swaying on the couch, pleased by his reaction.

“Your parents paid for most of it, so I can’t take all the credit.” Sticking a finger in the air, you add, “You just gotta promise to share custody with me though—”

A hand behind your head yanks you into a deep kiss. He’s not the only one left speechless on the couch. He places the top of his head against yours.

“You’re crazy, but I love—” He quickly catches himself from saying something he might regret. “—I love it so much, thank you. Now I feel bad for getting you only the stuffed animal...”

You shake your head softly, brushing your thumb against his cheekbone.

“Thank you for everything.” Your eyes twinkle. “I couldn’t have asked to spend the holidays with anyone else.”

Carefully, like a newborn baby, he safely situates the boxed Playstation to one side and nabs your lips with his again. The scene feels like repeat of last night as your bodies wrestle passionately on the couch.

“Not to be presumptuous,” he mutters between the kisses upon your neck. Your eyelids flutter at the sensation. “But I also grabbed condoms from my place when I stopped by.”

His words sends the two of you leaping towards your bedroom. Under the dim lighting, you fall into the bed as Yangyang pares your layers off, one by one. With each peel, his lips roam the revealing bare skin. You swear he has kissed you from your literal head to toe when you’re fully nude in front of him.

Your companion drags his shirt over his head, throws it off to your floor, and immediately targets in onto your nub with his mouth, finally satiating his craving from last night.

Fingers thread into his hair and over his flexed back. His tongue swirls and his teeth lightly tug on your perkiness, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. And he still isn’t even inside you yet.

After leaving love upon your other bosom, Yangyang fumbles with the condom, forgetting which way it should go on. Giggling, you perch yourself onto your elbows and assist him. Rolling it over his possession, you recline yourself back and spread your legs for him.

Pensively, he sticks his tongue out as he adjusts himself between your sex, easing himself into you, and upon the full impact, you meet his gaze head-on. His stare makes you feel vulnerable and exposed beyond the physical plane.

But, unlike the others you have been with, you trust him with everything, like you always have, and be free with him. Losing your inhibitions and submitting to your whims, you entangle and become one with Yangyang.

Behind his hazy vision, Yangyang’s simply thinking how beautiful you are, how he can’t imagine anyone else under his touch but you, how he is willing to give up anything to make you smile.

Well, in this case, he’s willing to give up anything to make you pleased.

However, it doesn’t seem like he needs to do much because you’re howling his name and clinging onto his skin and the sheets in a frenzy, like you’re about to die of exhaustion.

You perish a few times under him before he finally reaches his little death himself, convulsing into the sheath.

When air’s replenished into your bodies, you rest on his chest under your blanket. Glancing up at him, you move some of his tousled hair off his sleek forehead.

“Merry Christmas, Yangyang,” you whisper, snuggling him with a satisfied smile.

“Merry Christmas, babe,” he whispers back, giving you one last peck before you both drift into a deep slumber together.

DECEMBER 26th

Last night took so much out of the both of you, you don’t get out of bed until about the middle of the afternoon. Yangyang doesn’t have anything planned for today since it’s Boxing Day, since the crowds might be crazy wherever you go, so it’s officially a chill, rest day for you both.

When you step out of the shower in fresh clothes, from behind the couch, you watch Yangyang gaming on his Switch.

The little voice in your head looms, prompting that now is the time to have The Talk, and speaks up on your behalf.

“Do we have to end things next week?” you croak.

You see Yangyang’s shoulders stiffen, then he pauses the game and turns around to face you. His gaze follows you as you step closer to the couch, opting to stand.

“Uhm.” His Adam’s apple bobs and he shrugs. “It’s up to you, it’s your—”

“Yangyang, that’s not what I’m asking. I’m asking what you think, how do you feel?”

His lips press together and he’s staring at the floor. You can tell the gears are moving, but you can’t read his expression clearly.

“I’m down for whatever you want to do,” he says slowly, eyes still averting yours.

That’s a I’m-your-best-friend answer, you deduce. Not a I-want-to-be-your-actual-boyfriend answer.

He adds, stuttering, “I mean, I wouldn’t mind doing this a little longer if that’s what you want—”

Your face scrunches in annoyance. “Did you just sign up to be my short-term boyfriend so you can fill my empty heart?”

His eyebrows crease with confusion. “I mean, I never want to see you unhappy.”

“So it’s pity dating then?” you lash, raising your voice.

“No, I—” Yangyang bites down on his tongue, almost letting the one word slip out again. He blows out a lengthy sigh and runs a hand through his hair. “I care about you, so much. I’d do anything to make you happy.”

You’re defining his words as an affirmation of friendship and as an underlying rejection of your love.

You need to know for certain.

“Do you love me, Yangyang?” you blurt. “As more than a friend?”

This is it, Yangyang thinks. This is your chance to let her know how you feel.

But the distress written on your face makes him wonder if he should even go through with it, and it’s intensifying with every passing moment that he’s not speaking.

If only he knew your distress was deepening because you took his hesitance as absolute rejection.

Your heart is breaking because of him, and he technically wasn’t even yours to begin with.

You smack your lips together and gulp a few times, trying to make the huge knot in your throat disappear.

“You know what, maybe let’s just forget this arrangement and leave it all behind and forget about the sex and—”

“You wanna stop this?” he utters quietly.

The word “this” hangs heavy in the air. This, carrying the weight of not only being the temporary agreement, but also your friendship.

“Yeah,” you whisper, tears beginning to blur your eyes. “I think I do.”

DECEMBER 28th

Two days have passed since you last saw Yangyang.

That day before he left, Yangyang, feeling guilty for how events unfolded, wanted to give back the Playstation, but you insisted for him to keep it. In spite of everything, it was a Christmas gift to him from you and his parents.

But both of you weren’t sure if the shared custody promise was going to be held up.

In hopes that things would eventually get better and heal itself, Yangyang thought it’d be best to leave you alone for a while, like how he usually did.

And maybe he was right to do so, but this time is different.

Because he’s on the other end of the stick now; he’s the one who broke your heart.

Under regular circumstances, whenever you needed space, he was always ready to be there by your side.

But Yangyang’s uncertain if you’re going to let him comfort you this time.

And you’re uncertain if you even want him to.

DECEMBER 30th

Today, Yangyang finally makes the move to get in touch with you, texting you to call him, but you don’t, so he leaves a voicemail later in the evening.

“There’s a New Year’s party I’m going to tomorrow,” he starts off, then spews the specific details.

There’s a pause and you hear shuffling in the background. You assume he’s pacing around.

“I know you ended our agreement, but I wouldn’t mind fulfilling my end since New Year’s is the last day tomorrow. I’d be really glad if you came to the party with me, whether it be as my friend or my girlfriend.”

Another pause.

On the other end, Yangyang rubs his palm over his face, considering whether or not he should say it. If you picked up the phone call, he was going to do it anyway, but this just felt improper. He wants to say it when he knows you’re listening in real-time, so he ends off the message with:

“I miss you. So much.”

DECEMBER 31st

It’s 8:40PM. Before Yangyang buses out to the party, he’s back at your front door for one more shot. His fist taps at your door, cognizant that you wouldn’t be elsewhere since your other friends are out of town for the holidays. Despite that, you don’t come to the door. Nevertheless, he speaks to you through the wooden barrier.

“Hey, I know you want to be left alone, but I just wanted to see if you changed your mind about the party.”

Still no answer. He lets out a sigh and prays the following will incite a reaction from you.

“About the question that you asked me that night...”

He closes his eyes and allows his mouth to carry him.

“I do. I do love you. As both my best friend and more. I’m sorry if I hurt you that night by not saying anything, but I love you so much and I think we should give us a shot.”

Still no answer. Yangyang continues.

“Look, I know it’s scary and crazy to date your best friend. I’m scared too, but you know what? I’m okay with being scared. I’ve watched you gone through those assholes over the last few years and maybe you’re scared I’ll end up like one of them, but unlike them, I don’t think you’re horrible or needy or emotional—you’re beautiful, intelligent, and strong for putting up with all those fuckers.”

He leans his forehead gently against the door.

“And even if we ever do break up, and this is a big if because I’ll always try my hardest with you to make it work, I’ll still be your friend. I promise. You won’t lose me ‘cause I need you in my life. I gotta keep my end up for the custody of the Playstation, right?”

A smile breaks over his face from his joke, but still. Radio silence.

“Can you at least say something?” he begs.

After a few minutes, realizing he needs to probably give you more time to be left alone, he departs and heads to the party.

Originally, you actually were planning on attending the party to see Yangyang to make-up with him.

Unfortunately, out of all the days you had to take a late afternoon nap, it had to be today.

And you overslept. Big time.

At 10:55PM, you scramble awake, realizing you’re absolutely late to the event. Since the party’s downtown, you know calling an Uber or Lyft there would be fast, but tonight’s the worst night for any share riding service and there aren’t any available drivers. Thus, you have to manage with busing there.

It’s 11:40PM when you finally reach downtown, but the bus can’t take you all the way to the core centre where the party is; hordes of people are out on the streets and traffic is dreadful. God, you’re going to be cutting it close to midnight, but you make a run for it.

You’re grateful the party is on the second floor of a small building because you slide in right through the entrance at 11:58PM. You rush to call Yangyang’s phone, hoping he’ll pick up as you try to find him in the scattered groups of people.

You begin to holler for him in hopes he can hear you, but the countdown is happening, drowning out your voice. Thirty seconds left until the clock strikes for the new year.

When his number finally goes to voicemail, you redial his number. Suddenly, a hand grasps you by the wrist.

Yangyang looks at you, dumbfounded.

“When did you get here?”

The harmonious chanting around you floods your surroundings.

“Ten, nine, eight...”

Getting closer to him, you practically scream into Yangyang’s face, trusting he’ll hear what you’re about to say.

“I know Christmas is over, but I want to change my wish.”

“Seven, six, five...”

“I know you might not feel the same and I know things might not work out.”

“Four, three, two...”

”But I wish to date you past New Year’s until whenever, however long we last.”

“One...”

“I love you, Yangyang—”

The one you love snatches you by the waist and your cheek, stealing your lips at the last millisecond before midnight.

“Happy New Year!”

A wave of noisemakers, clappers, and hollering erupt around the room. After it dies down a bit, Yangyang shocks you with a scolding.

“Why didn’t you say anything when I came over?!”

Confusion rushes over you. You realize he probably came by when you were sleeping.

“You came over?!”

“Yeah, I confessed my love for you.”

“Wait,” you blink blankly, unsure if you heard him correctly. “Your love?”

“Yeah,” he nods, giving you his cheesy, adorable smile. “I love you.”

“As more than a friend?” you clarify.

“Babe,” Yangyang’s thumb caresses your cheek. “I don’t think I could ever go back to wanting less with you.”

Your lips tremble with relief as your gaze melts in his.

“And, anyway, who else am I going to share the Playstation with?”

“Well, I mean, you do have Hendery, Xiaojun, Winwin...” you start to count his infinite list of friends on your fingers.

“Yeah, but I need you so I can constantly beat your cute little butt at games.”

“You do not constantly beat my cute little butt at games, I’ll have you know that I beat you at—”

Yangyang shuts you up with another kiss, the one of many for the rest of the night.

JANUARY 2nd

It’s your second morning at Yangyang’s place. You’ve only done it a few times now, but you realize that waking up in his arms is one of the greatest feelings in the world, second only to his kisses.

In his bed, spooning you from behind, he grumbles into the nape of your neck, “Morning, girlfriend.”

Half-awake, you mumble back, “Morning, boyfriend,” and sink deeper into the curve of his body.

Content, you finally broke your string of cursed holiday break-ups for good.

And all it took was to be with the one who was in front of you all this time.

2K notes · View notes

hangovercurse · 4 years ago

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You work at the preschool next to Casie’s middle school. One day, you catch Colson’s eyes while working, and lucky for him you happen to know his daughter.

Request: “Hi!! Let me start out by saying that you are so so so talented!! I was wondering if you’d write something about colson falling for a preschool teacher? like he just sees her one day while he’s picking up casey from the middle school and he’s all soft seeing her interact with the kids and he makes up excuses to keep coming to see you!?”

Colson X Reader

Warnings: Cursing (maybe?)

A/N: I did that thing where I write too much… again.

Word Count: 2394

Colson tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, drumming softly to the beat of the music coming from his radio. He pulled into the school parking lot, the line already a million cars long it seemed. But he promised Casie he would pick her up whenever he wasn’t working so she didn’t have to take the bus. If that meant spending thirty minutes in a line of slow-moving cars, so be it.

As he was jamming, he glanced out the passenger window, finding a smaller building with a chain link fence outside, surrounding a child’s playground. The door happened to swing open while he was looking, and from there time seemed to move in slow motion.

Out of the door came a dozen or so toddlers, waddling their way outside, surrounding the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. The sun bounced off of your skin perfectly, making everything around you seem so much brighter.

Your skirt flowed with the slight breeze, making the scene more picturesque. He watched as you reached down, picking up one of the toddlers and holding him in your arms. The small boy seemed to be crying, over what Colson couldn’t tell.

You seemed to be speaking to the boy, bouncing him up and down in your arms to comfort him. Meanwhile, a little girl with pigtails made her way over to you. You spoke to her brightly, reaching the arm that wasn’t holding the boy to hold her hand.

Colson’s eyes followed you as you let her drag you over to the playground. You supported her as she climbed the small rock-climbing wall and reach the landing for the slide. You then smiled as she made her way down the slide, telling her good job when she made it to the bottom.

You then turned your attention back to the boy in your arms, making silly faces at him until he laughed.

All it took was those few moments for Colson to get hooked. If there was one thing he found attractive above all else, it was women who loved children. He refused to date anyone who wasn’t supportive of his relationship with Casie, so you were already ahead of everyone on his list. It also helped that you were breathtakingly beautiful.

Colson just got good vibes from you. From his brief observation of you, he could tell you were compassionate and kind, but also childlike and fun, much like himself.

The blonde man was pulled from his thoughts as the car in front of him started moving, signaling the line was moving.

The next day, Colson had a plan. Instead of driving into the school parking lot, he pulled into the pre-school. He checked himself out in the mirror, praying he would see you working. He stepped out of the car, putting on his best confused dad face, and walked into the building.

And by some miracle, you happened to be speaking with the woman at the front desk.

You were even prettier up close, eyes meeting his and stopping him dead in his tracks. You smiled kindly, voice ringing out, “can I help you, sir.”

He returned your smile, “I was looking for the middle school but I have a feeling I ended up in the wrong place.”

You giggled slightly, “just a little. The middle school is just next door.” You pointed to your right. “Are you picking up a sibling?” You asked.

Truthfully, the man had caught your eye the moment he stepped into the door. It was rare you saw someone your own age, and he was exponentially more attractive than most men. What would it hurt if you got to know him a little bit?

“My daughter, actually.” He spoke, fiddling with the key in his hand. You tilted your head, his face seeming vaguely familiar.

You hesitated before speaking, “who’s your daughter? I substitute over there sometimes and you look vaguely familiar.”

He bit his lip, hoping he hadn’t blown his cover. “Casie Baker.” But surely, he’d have remembered you if he’d met you.

Your eyes widened at the name, “Casie? She’s my absolute favorite!” You grinned at the man, realizing immediately that their similar features made him feel familiar. “She’s awesome.”

Colson smiled, letting out a nervous chuckle, “thank you. Yeah, she’s great.”

“She tells me about you. Whenever I sub in her classes, she talks about how cool you are.”

Colson blushed lightly, rubbing his neck. “I’m Colson.” He reached out an arm to shake your hand, mentally kicking himself as soon as he did it.

You found it endearing, shaking his hand “Y/N.”

A few days passed and Colson still couldn’t get over how soft your hands were, or how your touch sent electricity running through his body.

He felt ridiculous, leaving rehearsals and recording sessions to pick Casie up with the hope that he gets a glimpse of you.

After a few days of nothing, he almost loses that hope. Until he happens to arrive at the school a little bit early, windows rolled down to let the cool air in. He hears the sudden sound of children laughing, pulling his attention to the playground next door.

And there you are, in all your beautiful glory. Guiding the kids out, helping them into swings and onto the stairs.

Colson must’ve pleased some God because you looked over your shoulder and found him. Of all the cars in the line, you found his, eyes locking immediately. You smiled softly, reaching a hand over to him and waving. He waved back, trying to keep his cool. But really, he was freaking out.

He thought about saying something, or mouthing something, rather, as you were too far away to hear him, but he was stopped by the beautiful brown hair of his favorite girl in the world. Casie plopped herself down on the seat next to him, her backpack falling to the floor with a frown on her face.

She looked up to her dad, about to complain about her day when she saw his preoccupation. She followed his eyes, finding you in the playground. Immediately her mood was lifted, and she turned back to her dad with a grin on her face.

“Daaad?” She questioned, her voice lifting at the end of her question. The blond man looked down to her a soft smile in his face.

“Hey Case, how was school?”

“You think she’s pretty, right?” Casie ignored his question.

Colson scoffed, rolling his eyes, and shifting his car into gear. “She’s… pretty. I guess.” He mumbled, pressing lightly on the gas.

Casie continued smiling up at him, “that’s Ms. Y/N. She’s the coolest.”

“Put your seatbelt on.” He said, pulling out of the parking lot. “And I know, I met her the other day.”

Casie’s eyes lit up at the thought of her two favorite adults meeting. “Really? How? Did you like her?”

Colson chuckled at his daughter, “I went into the pre-school parking lot by accident and she showed me how to get here.” He blushed, knowing Casie would easily spot his lie.

And that she did, “I’ve been going here for almost two years, how did you accidentally go into the wrong parking lot? You pick me up all the time.”

Colson coughed nervously, “so, how was school?” He tried to change the subject.

Casie gasped, “did you go to the preschool just to see her? You like her!”

“I just met her Casie.”

“You like Ms. Y/N!” she sang, dancing in her seat.

“How was school, loser?” He asked, laughing at her.

She ignored him, again. “Does she know you’re my dad? Did she say anything about me?”

He rolled his eyes, chuckling to himself at her excitement. “Yes, she does, and yes, she did.”

“What did she say?” Casie practically yelled.

“She said you were the worst student she’s ever substituted for.” He smirked, flinching lightly as Casie slapped his arm.

“She did not say that!” The girl pouted, “Ms. Y/N is my favorite teacher in the whole world.”

He couldn’t help but smile at her affection for you. “She’s not even technically your teacher. But she did say that you were her favorite student.”

Her eyes twinkled, “really?”

Colson nodded, “she also told me that you talk about me in class.” He looked at the girl, raising an eyebrow, “any reason why?”

Casie sunk into her seat, a guilty expression on her face. “No.” Colson looked back to the road, but his eyebrow was still raised, “Okay, fine. I just think it’d be really cool if my favorite dad and my favorite teacher were… friends.”

Colson laughed, “I am your only dad, first of all, and second… don’t be weird.”

“But you said you liked her!” Casie pointed out, making the man’s ears turn red.

“I said she was pretty, that’s not the same thing.”

Casie sang again, “whatever you say.”

He rolled his eyes again, letting out a sigh and dropping the conversation, knowing he would lose. “Are you gonna tell me how school was or not?”

Casie sighed, hitting her back against the seat, “Mr. Clemmons was being mean today again. He said he’s not gonna curve our test even though only 2 people got an A on it.” She crossed her arms and huffed.

Colson pouted, bringing a hand to rub her shoulder, “what’d you get on it?”

She mumbled out, “a B.”

His eyes went wide, “dude, what? That’s awesome, that’s above average. You should be proud of that!” He always tried to encourage Casie, knowing the insane amount of pressure people put on their kids nowadays and not wanting her to feel that.

Casie shrugged, “yeah but my guidance counselor says if I want to get into a magnet program in high school, I have to get all A’s. And I have to get in a magnet program high school to get into a good college.”

His eyes went wide as he pulled into his driveway, “woah, woah, woah. You’re 11 years old! You don’t need to worry about that stuff and whoever is telling you that is wrong. Getting a B or even a C isn’t gonna stop you from getting into whatever program you want, I promise.”

Casie sighed, opening the door, and sliding out. “I don’t wanna talk about this anymore. Can we go back to talking about how you like Ms. Y/N?” She asked, her shoulders slumped.

Colson rolled his eyes, climbing out of the car and following her inside. “I don’t like Ms. Y/N.” He groaned.

“Whatever, but next time she substitutes my class, I’m texting you and you’re gonna bring me lunch and talk to her.” Casie said, going to her room and throwing her backpack onto her bed.

A week and a half later, Colson was sitting in his car in the school parking lot, staring at himself through his rearview mirror. He looked at the bag of chick-fil-a in the passenger side seat and sighed. His phone buzzed, a text from Casie coming through.

Lunch is starting, where are you???

He chuckled and texted back.

Going to the office now, calm down

He grabbed the bags and drinks, opening his door and stepping out. He made his way through the office, getting his visitor’s badge, and moving towards the cafeteria. He opened the door, searching through the sea of children for his daughter, only to find your eyes instead.

You smiled brightly, head tilting as if to ask why he’s here. He returned the smile, holding up the bags to answer your question. Casie appeared next to you, waving her hand. Colson made his way through the pre-teens, trying not to crush any of them.

Casie and you giggled at his struggle, joking with each other. Eventually he reached you two, setting the food on the table that Casie had reserved just for you three. The girl took her place across from him, motioning you to sit down next to him. You laughed but followed her directions.

Colson took the food out of the bag, passing Casie her sandwich and fries and pulling his food out of the bag. He turned to you, a smile on his face. “Woah, they must’ve given me an extra sandwich.” He held it out for you to take.

You obliged, giggling lightly. “How strange.” You commented, your smile never leaving.

“Oh, right. Ms. Y/N, this is my dad, Colson. Dad, this is Ms. Y/N, the best substitute ever.” Casie said, pointing between the two.

Colson chuckled, “yes, Casie. We’ve met.” He looked over to you, hiding his laugh behind his sandwich.

“Yep. Someone got lost and found me at the preschool.” You said, your voice exaggerating. Shit, Colson thought, you were onto him. “Speaking of, Casie. I know you’ve been talking about needing volunteer hours. If you want you can come by after school some days and help me with the aftercare program? I can take you home afterwards if your dad can’t pick you up.”

Casie smiled brightly, nodding her head. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes!”

Colson watched the interaction, fondness in his eyes. If he wasn’t sure before, he was now. He was falling hard.

You turned to him, kindness in your eyes, “if it’s okay with your dad.” You said and he nodded.

“Yeah, if you don’t mind having her around. I’m cool with it.” He tried to hide the blush on his cheeks as you continued to look at him, taking in his features.

Casie squealed, “thank you!”

You simply smiled and shrugged, “it’s not a big deal. I get some extra help and I get to spend some more time with my favorite 11-year-old. Maybe her dad can even stop by and help sometime.”

You turned to the man next to you, who was sure he’d turned very red. He was never this nervous around women, but something about you made him incredibly self-conscious, like he had to impress you.

He mumbled out a quick “huh?” before registering your question. “Uh, yeah, sure. If you want me to come help. I’d be cool with that.” He turned to meet your eyes.

You giggled, holding the eye contact, “I do want you to. I’d like it a lot if you did.”

Casie looked between you two, suddenly regretting what she’d done, “are you two done? I’m trying to eat my sandwich.”

#mgk #mgk imagine #mgk fluff #machine gun kelly #colson baker imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #Colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker fluff #colson imagine #colson baker x reader

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venusguks · 3 years ago

Text

Solace in Seoul

— Pairing : Jeon Jungkook x Fem!Reader (Reader x Kim Taehyung on the side)

— Summary : the falling apart of you and kim taehyung, and the coming together of you and jeon jungkook

— Genre/Warnings : plot driven, angst, smut, fluff, sugar daddy/baby relationship, student/teacher relationship w kth, bsfs2lvrs w jjk, unprotected sex, creampie, degredation, oral (f receiving), jk just wants to love you :(, jk is the absolute sweetest really, spit drinking?, praise ( TW : MENTIONS OF FAMILY ABUSE/BRUISES )

ACT 1. | 134340

The first time you talk to Jeon Jungkook again, your mind is elsewhere, absorbed in the lingering absence of Taehyung.

Spring's gentle breeze carried distant laughter and a faint melody from the music club two floors down. The sky carried drifting clouds, the ocean carried rising tides, and you — You carried the weight of the world on your shoulders.

Or at least it felt like it.

The piles of envelopes concerning last two months’ unpaid bills have been devouring your dinner table and heart alike. After receiving the countless of threatening voicemails from your landlord, you'd be naive not to expect a visit—but opening the door to Mrs. Joomi’s bitter scorn didn’t make you feel any less anxious. Juggling two part time jobs all the while maintaining A’s and B’s was nothing easy to accomplish. Hell, living wasn't even easy, and yet, it was like nothing you did was ever enough.

Grief was your composer and you were her violin—her cruel euphony reverberated through your tears when you sat on the cold kitchen floor last night, sifting between your savings that barely made up one month's rent. On top of your midnight breakdown, your dad decided to come home yesterday out of all days and, well, you know how that goes.

The door clicks open, interrupting you from your trance. You don’t need to turn around to know who it is.

Footsteps pad closer until Taehyung is right next to you. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and leans back against the metal railing, facing the opposite direction. It's quiet at first. You've noticed long ago that your relationship with him was one that was filled with silence. “Somethings bothering you,” He’s the first to break it. Neither of you take your gaze off the cerulean blue sky. “You could tell?”

“Of course I can, angel," his voice is cool, gentle, and it carries you away with the wind. "You dozed off through the whole lecture today."

Shame tinges your cheeks with the faintest pink, “oh... I’m sorry. I was paying attention, really, I was just—"

"Love," he saighs, "you have nothing to be sorry about. You could skip to sleep in the nurse's office for all I care. I'm just worried about you."

“What a good teacher you are,” you smile, a teasing one, but Taehyung chuckles dryly. “Trust me, if I was a good teacher, I wouldn’t be doing this," he sounds apathetic, but that doesn't stop you from frowning. You finally turn to look at him, his curls of deep brown swaying. “Taehyung... please don’t say that. You’re an amazing teacher, everyone knows it.”

You hoped he knew how genuine you were. God, you hoped to the moon he knew just how good he was. Taehyung may have already been admired for his captivating smile and his nonchalant energy, but everyone respected him for so much more. He was the type of teacher everyone wanted—the cause of counselor’s headaches every autumn for receiving heaps of transfer requests. Even parents and teachers fawned over him, baffled to see the passing rate in math tests accumulate over the years. It hurt that he didn't see that, and it hurt more knowing he didn't think he was respectable because of you.

The man tilts his head to look at you, smiling softly. “You know I’m only joking, doll.”

“Whether you're joking or not, I still... it just worries me when you talk like that,” you pause, "....do you really feel that way?" Do you really regret this?

Taehyung sighs, and the jeweled rings adorning his fingers are cold against your skin as he tucked loose strands of hair behind your ear. “Worrying is my job, angel, so tell me what's been on your mind instead."

If Taehyung noticed the hurt in your eyes, he chose to ignore it. He always did this. You got it, really, you did. There were boundaries for these sorts of relationships. One step closer would bring him one step back, which was why you never probed him any time he disregarded your questions. But a selfish part of you still felt it was a bit unfair, a bit painful to feel him slip away, to realize he was never there in the first place.

It was strange, how he made you feel. His thumb grazed your lips, his breath was light on your skin—if you concentrated hard enough, you swear you could hear his heart beat. He was only inches away.

So why did he feel so far?

Taehyung was your your lighthouse, your harbor, your shore. Through the snowy December nights where his fingers traced sensuous lines down your bare stomach, to the Spring showers of March where his cold lips brushed your inner thigh—Taehyung had always been your solace.

You knew tangling in sexual affairs with your teacher in return for sealed envelopes was wrong, but how could something so sinful feel so heavenly? The unspoken acts committed underneath draped curtains and moonlight's veil felt too dear to you to be called impure. By your sixth rendezvous, you started to wish the intimacy you shared with him could go beyond silk sheets and star speckled lust.

“I want you to confide in me too,” you said one night under the reluctant shadows of warmly lit candles. “I want to help you too, Taehyung. Please, let me help you.” You could tell he's been agitated the whole week, but you'd been too afraid to ask, afraid of him pushing you away. You didn't know where your courage came from then, all that you wished to be more than a distraction. “I don’t need you to help me," Taehyung growled, and you let out a muffled whimper when he rolled your clit with his tongue, your thighs trembling as you reached for his soft curls. "B-But I care a-about—ahn!" You arched your back as he inserted a finger inside of you, curling into your sweet spot with frightening accuracy. "Don’t need you any way else other than this, doll. Just be good and silent for me." That morning, you woke up to a bed void of the man you loved; a white envelope being the only remnant of that night.

You sighed as you recalled that memory, brushing your own fingers over his, tracing the metal bristles of his rings. “Its nothing."

“Don’t say that, angel. I know it’s not nothing."

“Really, Taehyung, i’m fine. Just stressed is all.”

“Stressed...as in financially?” Your sudden tenseness affirms his assumption, making him sigh. "You could've just told me earlier, angel. Tell me how much you need." A repulsing mixture of shame and self resentment brews in your chest, hardening like bitter dalgona. Dirty, despite money sparking your secret arrangement from the very beginning, that’s how you felt every time it was ever brought up. “Hey, look at me doll," as if reading your thoughts, Taehyung gently draws your face close to his with two hands cupping your cheeks, noses barely brushing. “Don’t ever feel guilty about this. Just treat it as an early birthday present, yeah?"

You couldn't help but frowning, your hands roaming the access of his collarbone. "You already do so much for me, Taehyung...I just...I-I feel bad." You failed to notice how rigid he became then, how his eyebrows dipped with evident frustration. "Y/n, you know that—"

Click!

Before you even realize it, you and Taehyung are off each other. When the blue, paint-scraped door opens, sleeked shoes and lively banter are welcomed by two students, diminishing with a glance at the both of you. "Ah, Mr. Kim, there you are! I was looking all over for you. What are you doing here?" A girl's eyes shift from you to the chestnut haired man. Taehyung easy recollects himself as he pats your shoulder, wearing a professional grin. "I stumbled into y/n here, was just giving her some advice but we’ve finished. What did you need me for?”

"Oh...well, about finals week..." You almost let out a sigh of relief as they continued their conversation, but your breath is instantly caught in your throat when your gaze flickers to the boy right next to her.

You were too startled by the sudden interruption that you haven’t completely processed his presence. You almost wish you hadn’t though, now that his doe, big brown eyes mirror your own.

Jungkook was unmoving, and you could've guessed he was conflicted—whether to say hi or to stay silent. Even if you were in the same grade, it was rare to see his face among the carbon copied uniforms. Class C—1 and C—4 were the furthest from each other, and with being the student council event coordinator, you were either neck deep in documents or tucked in the seclusions of the rooftop.

But due to the proud morning announcements and the hushed whispers of admiration, Jungkook never really strayed too far from your orbit. Referred to as the school's golden boy, Jungkook was loved by everyone. He was friends with members from the fashion department to the swim team to the gardening club—Hell, even the occult club. Teachers and students alike wore lenses of adoration for their school’s pride and joy while you tried your best to look away. He may have been in your orbit, but you were two different worlds, encapsulated by the universe but separated by light years of meteors and stars. Jungkook was a nameless planet to you, as you were to him. You never brought yourself to think about it—never had the time for anyway, so seeing him there, floating with the drifting clouds, even you felt a tad bit shaken.

“—kook...Jungkook, hey, Jungkook! I’m gonna go get my assignment with Mr. Kim. Come with?” He blinks profusely, averting his attention from you to the girl wearing raised brows. “Uh, no thank you. Breaks gonna end soon anyways, I think I’ll stay up here. See you after school though?”

“After school,” she clicks her tongue, waving before disappearing down the stairs. Taehyung lingers for a second longer, his eyes flickering to you. “Well I’ll see you next period, Jeon. Bye, y/n." With that, the door shuts behind them, welcoming an air of awkward silence.

Jungkook is the first to clear his throat, “hi, its been awhile," his earrings dangled with his every nervous movement, and you wondered when he'd gotten all his piercings. "Y-Yeah, its been awhile..." you repeat densely as you watch him take the spot Taehyung left, respecting a distance but not standing too far away. He rests his forearms on the metal railing, his elbow barely brushing yours. “Do you usually come up here?"

"Only during lunch."

He hums, "that explains why I never see you."

You frown, both in curiosity and confusion. "You look for me?"

“I-I don’t!” He sputters too quickly. “I just...its just an observation. We’re in the same year after all, and you’re never with the rest of the student council members.” Your brows raise in amusement, “that's surprising.”

“What is?”

“I didn’t think you remembered my name—honestly didn’t think you even remembered I existed.”

“Of course I remember,” he chuckles, “we’ve been friends for 17 years. How could I forget?”

“14 years,” you reminded softly, “we’ve been friends for 14 years.”

A star in Jungkook’s eyes must have died out when you smiled sadly at him. “Oh...right...” he rubs the nape of his neck, sighing. “This is strange, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you agree, “strange.” And there it is again. Spring’s momentary silence. You watch as the sun slowly disappears behind sailing clouds. Talking to Jungkook, being alone next to him, was maybe even a little bit uncomfortable. After all, you guys had so much history—where do those film rolls of sun seeped memories go? It was as if they floated all around you, tying your fingers together like the red string of fate. After all those years of suppressing them, it was intoxicating, adamant to be remembered.

“This reminds me of middle school,” Jungkook brings your head back from the sky. “In 5th grade, the highest we could go was at the top of the garden shed. We spent all our breaks there, staring at clouds, complaining about Mr. Lim being too grouchy, or wondering where we'd go after school—what ice cream flavor we’d get at the convenience store. Do you remember?”

"Of course I do," despite yourself, your heart softens to the recollection. It was your secret hiding spot, blocked by the slant of the roof and the trees barricading the other side. The sky, wind, and Jungkook had been your only escape from the problem solving in math and the problem solving you had to do on your own when you were 10, wondering what the budget for that week's grocery would be. “We thought we were so cool, that we were on top of the world.”

“Correction, you thought you were so cool. You even promised to show me your own space ship, remember?”

“God, please don’t,” you groan, covering your face with your palms. You knew exactly where this was going, and you guessed Jungkook still knew exactly how to embarrass you. “You told me you were a space—“

“—adventurer!” You beamed a toothy grin, two hands proudly on your hips. Jungkook looked up at you with sparkling eyes, pupils as large as beloved full moons. “You mean...an astronaut?”

Your smile immediately drops into a disappointed frown. You demanded upmost reverence, so you didn’t really appreciate it when he questioned you. “No, no. Not an astronaut. A space adventure. s-p-a-c-e a-d-v-e-n-c-h-u-r-r. Gosh, Kookie. If you want me to bring you along in my journeys, you have to keep up.” Jungkook only nodded, trying his best to stifle a chuckle. He won the 3rd grade spelling bee, so he was at least 85% confident the word adventurer didn't have a 'ch' in it.

He decided to let it go though. He knew—the same way he knew that you’d certainly cry if he corrected you—that you were afraid of heights. If it took weeks to encourage you to finally climb a roof, he was the certain you wouldn’t be able to handle the height of the galaxy. But then again, he always had a soft spot for you. “I’m building a space ship right now actually! Its called the Bon Voyage. When it's finished, I’m going to Pluto. You won’t believe how big space is. There are strawberries there!"

Jungkook’s eyes widened at your silly declaration, and even then, he felt sad. He knew that being a space adventurer—being able to maneuver gravity and time on your own whims—was only an innocent imagination of escapism, but still. Every single time you’d flinch when a hand was brought up near you, every time you’d pull on your jacket despite it being hot, he wished your imagination could be real. Wished he could make it real for you—keep you safe from earth and all your troubles.

“I’d like to see the strawberries.. with you,” Jungkook smiled softly. You grinned, and it was the most precious thing Jungkook saw as you stuck your pinky finger out. “Then it’s settled, I’m taking you with me.”

“To pluto?” He wrapped his small finger with yours, and you sealed it with your thumbs pressed against each other's. “To pluto!”

Jungkook was in a fit of laughter, and despite burying your face further into your hands, you couldn't help but smile. “I can’t believe you knew I was lying. God, I must’ve looked like a total idiot.” His elbows were pressed against yours now, sending a surge of warmth to your heart at the familiar skin ship. Jungkook must have not noticed, for he only kept giggling, and you certainly wouldn't bring it up. “It was cute, really. The strawberries and everything. It was really cute.”

"Whatever, Jungkook," you rolled your eyes, and uncovering your eyes, you looked at him. Truly looked at him this time. His smooth, unwrinkled uniform. His hair that grew over time, kissing past his eyelashes and swaying with the wind. The tiny mole peeking under his bottom lip, the familiar scrunch of his nose as he grinned widely. The speckled brown of his eyes were so warm, almost dreamlike against the golden sun. Under long years of an uncalled contact, of an untouched hand, of a voiceless wonder—‘how have you been?’ ‘what was on your mind today?’—you saw the Jungkook you once knew, your dearest friend. And with his smile, you found your heart aching and full at the same time.

ringggggg!

The alarm jolts the both of you, severing spring’s heartbeat as loud chatter and footsteps disrupt the moment from open windows.

You only stare at each other for a brief second before you give a half smile, “that's the bell, we should go.” Without waiting for an answer, you followed the pace of the rest of school, but before you could take a step down the staircase, Jungkook takes your hand. His grip isn’t tight or rough. Its gentle, reluctant. You turn around, and the sun is behind him, kissing the back of his head with its golden, stray flakes.

"What is it?" You furrowed your brows. “I...its just..." It takes a moment before Jungkook speaks, cheeks tinged with a faint red. "Y/n I, I miss—”

“Jungkook,” you interrupt in masked panic, averting your eyes as you pulled your hand back. In truth, you were scared. Finals week would be soon and you didn’t think you could handle any more mental strain than you already had, especially not with him. “I-I think we’re going to be late.” Jungkook eyes widen for a second, stricken with dejection. He mumbles, “right...”

You don’t dare to look at him, turning away, you say, “it was nice talking to you again. Bye, Jungkook.”

ACT 2. | DAYTIME SHOOTING STAR

The second time you see Jungkook again, the spring showers are sharp against your skin. You had just gotten off from your 6 hour shift, and where the sunset hues of timid pink and vibrant yellow were supposed to be, the overcast sky was instead. It's been about 30 minutes since you clocked off, but you knew your dad was home, so you decided to take the long way back.

It didn't matter that you were a blur of blue walking in grey tainted streets. Didn’t matter that the downpour soaked your clothes or that cars occasionally splashed you with murky road puddles. You could be anywhere, and anywhere would be better than where your dad was.

Droplets drooped down your eyelashes, dribbling down onto your phone. It’s screen illuminated your color drained face. You stared at Taehyung’s contact, biting your lip nervously.

YOU :

hey taehyung, can i come over? if that's possible of course|

hey taehyung, can i come over? i|

hey taehy/

.../

i need you|

Your thumb hovered over the tempting, blue send button. Press it, Y/n. Just press it. (But would he mind?) He said it was okay to ask for help. (But... what if he's busy right now?) It's okay to ask. (You'd just be bothering him. If you're too needy, he'll push you away, you know that.) Just press the damned—

“Y/n!” A hand reaches your back, and although it was a mere brush, you yelp in alarm, instantly stumbling back. When you're sure you're about to be submerged into a puddle, a hand firmly grasps your forearm, steadying you as the said person pulls you closer to them. The rain stops—or rather, patters against an umbrella now hovering over you. Your eyes flutter from the hand holding you to the hand holding the umbrella handle, and lastly, the holder.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Jungkook half laughs. When you don’t reply, your mouth only agape, he adds, “are you okay?” It takes you a moment before you nod. You were close, as close two people could be under a small umbrella (or was it because Jungkook has gotten really big?), so you take a step back. But before you could feel even one raindrop on your face again, Jungkook pulls you back into him, “I don’t want you getting sick, y/n.”

“I’m already soaked anyways,” you frown, but he only disregards you. “Where are you heading?”

“Nowhere.”

When his brows threatened to crease, you add, “Got off work a few minutes ago, I was just taking a stroll.” Jungkook opened his mouth, and you were sure he was going to say something in the lines of, “in the rain? have you gone mad?” But to your surprise, he doesn’t. Instead, his fingers intertwine with yours. “My homes not far. Come with me?”

"Your...home?” You repeat dumbly, disregarding how warm his hand was—how you missed it, how right it felt in yours. “Yeah, if thats okay with you. If not, then mind if I walked with you?” You pause, taking in Jungkook’s attire. What he was doing in a button down, black trousers, and sleek shoes, you didn’t know—but his dry state save for the few droplets on his clothes meant that he'd much rather prefer to be under a roof. You weren’t sure if he was going to take no for an answer, and being under shelter did sound pleasant. At least, more pleasant than being in wet socks. “Okay,” you say, “take me home.”

When you arrive, you're relieved to discover Mr. and Mrs. Jeon are on a business trip. You missed the Jeons, truly—they were the only family you’ve ever known, but you didn’t think you were ready to see them again.

You remembered Jungkook’s house being an absolute palace when you were a child—modernized with elegance adorned with a scenic garden and a clean landscape—but it still didn’t fail to leave your jaw agape. Expansive was always an understatement. “Here, get changed,” Jungkook hands a towel, an oversized sweater and sweatpants, and of course, fuzzy socks. You only nodded as he led you through the familiar halls to his room. “Just call for me when you’re done, kay?”

“Mm,” you mumbled, still in a daze even after he left. Bittersweet nostalgia filled your nostrils with the scent of vanilla and almonds, a soy candle he still apparently loves. It's only been three years since you’ve last set foot on his grey, hardwood floors, but you still noticed the subtle changes. Instead of pokemon action figures—burnished, golden trophies filled his glass shelves. They were only a few Jungkook was really proud of, otherwise his room would be brimmed with his accomplishments.

Picture perfect polaroids capturing euphoric memories and cheerful grins scattered Jungkook's walls. A refined stereo set replaced the bright blue boom box of your childhood, the one covered with doraemon stickers and scratches. Memories of 4th grades' January flooded your mind, when the blandness of the month was disrupted with color as the two of you jammed to Ego by JHOPE on repeat. Jungkook may have added and taken a few things out, but you found anchor in what stayed the same. His plants that hung from the ceiling were still there, ivies draped with growth over the past years. Kim Namjoon, Jungkook’s long time idol, smiled from a framed poster on his wall. Everything was still polished with his neatness, a habit you had always commended him for.

As you dried your damp hair, a photo frame catches your eye, sitting on the side of his bookshelf. Your breath catches in your throat. You slowly walk to the dainty item, painted white and blue to resemble noon skies. In the corner of the frame ignited a bright, pale limerence. Sparks of vivid blue and tangerine whipped through the wooden confines. You felt your heart thump against your chest. It was a—

"Daytime shooting star!" You gleamed, holding a paint brush into the sky, the handle rough from years of dried paint. It was a hot summer day, a few weeks after the end of seventh grade. Cicadas sung adamant songs through Jungkook's cracked open window as the two of you sat on his floor, blanketed with a fuzzy iron man carpet.

He looked at you quizzically, "a daytime shooting star?" As far as Jungkook knew, there was no such thing. "Yeah," you chirp. "That's you, Kook. You're my daytime shooting star." Jungkook nearly dropped his paint brush then, risking his favorite carpet as he looked at you, wide eyed with stun. You were wearing his t-shirt as per usual, your face smudged with blue paint and an innocent smile. Jungkook hated you for it.

It was always your choice of words—my Jungkook, my Kook, my Kookie, and now, my daytime shooting star—that he swore would be the death of him every single time. He didn't even know what you meant, but he didn't care, because being called yours was enough to kill him.

"Th-Thats stupid," he mumbled as he looked away, a futile attempt to hide his burning cheeks. "That doesn't even make sense." When the air shifted to silence, Jungkook immediately regretted his words. He quickly turned back around, fearing he accidentally hurt your feelings due to his own fluster. Maybe that was when Jungkook realized you really had grown up since the 6th grade, because this time, tears didn't drip down your cheeks. Instead, your eyes were curious and doe as you tilted your head to your side. "Does it matter?"

"What?

“A lot of things don’t make sense, but does it have to matter?” You frowned.

“I-I don’t—”

“I like you a lot, Kook,” and though you weren't at the least bit shy saying so, Jungkook’s emotions exploded everywhere. “I don’t think you need reasons to like someone, but you’re my daytime shooting star, Kook, and that's my reason. Can't I just like you? Does it...does it have to make sense?”

It felt like light years as Jungkook stared, red as he looked into the golden specks of your eyes, glinting from the blazing sun. “I-I don't know,” he gulped, his voice small. He was going to leave it at that at first. He didn't know what to say—what he could say. His mind was as clumsy and berserk as a deflating balloon to your previous words, but when he saw your sullen eyes and mopey pout, he felt an inadvertent panic in his gut.

His eyes shifted to his boom box. Etched on the side of the speaker was Doraemon, giving him a childish wink and thumbs up. Jungkook groaned in annoyance and you looked up, curious as he scratched the back of his head. "M-maybe we could...see it," he mumbled, barely grumbling, but your heart leapt with every syllable of his words. "Someday, together. The—"

“Daytime shooting star.”

You jumped, instantly whirling around to see Jungkook leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed over his torso. His eyes were soft, as if his gaze itself caressed you. “Y-You...” your thumb grazed the flimsy wood. “You still have this.”

“Yeah, and I still don’t have a photo,” he chuckled, making his way towards you. “14 years of friendship and you’d think we’d finally have a perfect picture to put in the frame.” It was pretty silly now that you thought about it. Despite spending a whole summer’s day decorating the item with childlike ambivalence, you never allowed Jungkook to slide a photo in it. No, it couldn’t just be any glossy photograph. You fussed over the concept of a perfect portrait, but nothing ever satisfied you enough, and with each passing year, it must've slipped your mind.

“I don’t get it... We haven’t talked for like, three years, and you still have this?”

"Does it have to make sense that I did?” Jungkook tilted his head, his eyelids lowering to look down at you. You open your mouth to reprimand him for using your words against you, but no words come out. Fuck. You swear it was his eyes—you’ve always said they were full of magic when you were children. It must’ve been that damned spellbinding luster that stole your voice. “What did you mean?” Jungkook takes a tentative step forward.

“Huh?” It came out like a breath.

Maybe it was the dim incandescence of the room, complementing the silhouette of his sculpted physique. Maybe it was the fact that the cloth he wore seemed too thin, too tense around his biceps and broad shoulders. Maybe it was because his first three buttons were left unclasped, teasing the faint outline of his chest. Or maybe it was the fact that you were so used to being in eye level with him—hell, looking down at him in the earlier points of your life. But you realized then, as Jungkook stared at you with a glint you couldn’t seem to quite recognize, how small you felt in front of him. Under him.

“When you said I was your daytime shooting star. You never explained it to me, what you meant,” Jungkook takes one final step forward, and the distance between you is insignificant. You don’t move—didn’t even think you could with your back pressed against his bookshelf. You could only return his gaze, doe eyes wavering beneath his. “What I meant to you...what I still mean to you.”

Your breath hitches, “Kook...”

“Fuck, I missed that,” his voice is low, breathless as his fingers brush your cheeks. “So fucking much, Y/n. I missed you calling my name, whatever you say. Kook, Kookie, Jungkook—I don’t care, just missed your voice, I still do. Don’t you know? Everyday, how much I long for you?”

Your eyes widen at his assertion. Wherever this was coming from, you didn't have the heart to stop it. "J-Jung—"

“—I miss you, Y/n. Any time I'm not around you it hurts and every time I am it hurts even worse.” His voice is so gentle, you fear he could hear the rhythm of your heart beat, palpitating with the heavy raindrops against his window.

“Why....why did you push me away?”

The waves were restless that cold, autumn night—you saw it through the fogged window of the train. Exhaustion tugged your eyes and your muscles screamed with every movement. As the train tracks rumbled beneath you, you wondered if you were even alive anymore, at least, it didn’t feel like it. All that was certain to you was the midnight stars outside, following you no matter where you went.

You didn’t know when the train entered the station, sighing to a stop as the doors slid open with a loud gush. It was probably 2am—Maybe 3, and the carts didn’t hold people this time around. At least you didn’t think it did, you honestly didn’t have the energy to even think about it. You only wondered how further you could go without knowing exactly how far you already went. Your neck ached from your head hanging low, and if it was cold, you didn’t feel it. All you felt was numb. An aching, dull pain eating away at your heart.

It was when you heard rushed heaves and loud footsteps that your eyes widened to see a familiar pair of green converse stop in front of you. You lift up your head to see Jungkook, cheeks red either from crying or the cold, maybe both. His brows were deeply furrowed as he crouched down, his hands gripping your shoulders.

“C-Can you hear me, Y/n? Are—are you okay?” You only nodded. He felt like a mirage, a dream.

You didn’t know what he saw in you that caused the droplets of sorrow to drip from his eye—whether it was the bruises covering your body, or the deep eye bags from restless nights at work—but it made you sad, how he looked at you. You wished he’d stopped. You wished you could be so far away that he didn’t have to look at you anymore.

“You’re, fuck, you’re freezing,” Jungkook quickly pulls his coat off and swathes it around you. “I’m sorry, y/n. I’m so sorry I didn’t get here earlier.” You shook your head, your dull headache being replaced with confusion. “Why are you even apologizing, Kook? H-How did you even find me? Why are you even here?” You had turned off your cell the whole day and gave no indication to where you’d be. You didn’t even tell Jungkook how you were feeling, it made no sense to see him there, holding you.

“We’re soulmates remember? Of course I’d know,” Jungkook tries his best to give a smile. “I’m here because you are. Just—look, lets get you out of here first okay?” Before you can tell him you can walk by yourself, he lifts you up, taking your hand as he leads you out. “The next train back to Seoul arrives in 8 minutes,” Even when Jungkook and you sit down on a bench, he doesn’t let go. He’s shaking, you realize, with his fingers intertwined with yours. It was as if he wanted to hold you tighter, but he was afraid. Afraid of what? Afraid of hurting you? Or afraid of you hurting him if you slip out of his grasp any further?

“How did you know?” You begin again. “I told you I was sick, I called the school too. A-and how did you even know where I was?”

“You called in sick for three days Y/n,” he frowns, “and you haven’t texted me once. I was so worried, fuck, I was so fucking worried when I went to your house to see that you weren't there. All my calls went straight to voice mail, and I saw...I-I saw the shattered beer bottles, the blood. I-I panicked, even thought of calling the police,” when your face goes rigid, he assures you, “of course I wouldn’t though, I would never do that you. But anyway, it took me awhile to guess, and I wasn’t even sure—just started running. I imagined you’d definitely be in a space ship to Pluto right about now, but I took a risky bet on the train station. You know, being much more accessible to us and all.” When Jungkook finishes light heartedly, you give a dry laugh, “you know me so well, Koo."

His small grin falls shortly as silence does, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb on your hand. When he speaks again, his voice is quiet, sad, “You always...you always said you’d bring me. We’re a team aren’t we? You and me, I-I thought...I would’ve been there, Y/n. You know I'd be there for you in a heartbeat. Don't you trust me?”

"Of course I trust you, Kook," you quickly assure him through your thin veil of tears. It hurt too much to know you were the reason for the crack in his voice, for the ache in his heart, for his glazed eyes. You couldn't stand his pity, but you couldn't stand being the source of his grief either. "Then why didn't you call me..? All I ever wanted was to be there for you, all I ever want is to be by your side, y/n. Why won't you just let me help you?”

“Because you don’t understand, Kook,” you croak. “You don't understand how hard it is for me—how hard it's always been. It'll only ever always be like this, and I-I can't just...fuck Kook, I can't just depend on you every time I get hurt. My problems are for me to sort out, I have no one but myself.”

“But you have me, y/n," the tears you fought so hard to hold back falls when Jungkook covers both your cheeks with his hands. The boy inhales sharply, trying to calm himself from crying any longer as he presses his forehead against yours. "It hurts me so much when you talk like that, y/n. You have me, you always have me. A-and it scares me because sometimes it just feels like I don't have you, that I never did and—"

"Jung—"

"You’ve been so distant lately," his breath is shaky and hot against your skin. "....It feels like you’re going to leave me. Please, don’t. Don't leave me behind like this, y/n.” You don't say anything else, too overwhelmed with his heartache beating with yours. In that cold autumn night, all you could do was cry in his arms.

The train arrives shortly.

“Lets go home," Jungkook murmurs sweetly against your skin. He kisses your forehead softly, and when he does, it feels like you already are home.

“Come here,” he grins, standing up with his hand out. You take it. “Have you eaten yet? I can make us food when we get back. What would you like?”

“Honestly? Just ramen.” Jungkook groans as you step inside the desolate train cart. “You know I could cook something way better for us."

"Nothing is better than ramen with eggs, Kook," you chide, giggling when Jungkook rolls his eyes. You take your hand away from him, and Jungkook tenses, only to relax when you cup his cheek once more. “But seriously, thank you, Jungkook. For everything. For worrying, being here for me, for finding me." He smiles, his eyes like crescent moons luminescent with love as he looks down at you, "always.”

"You said you'd do anything for me right?”

“Of course, anything, y/n.”

“Then please stop after this," you keep your small smile even as Jungkook's brows furrowed with confusion. You said it so simply, so plainly that he thought he might have heard you wrong. "What do you...?"

“Nothing will change after this. Nothing. I can't escape from my life, I can't escape from debt or my dad no matter how hard I try—and being the cause of your anxiety won't help me. I don't need a savior, and I don't think you need me holding you back either. We're burdening each other Kook.” With a heavy gush, the train doors start sliding shut and before Jungkook can even comprehend your words, you step out. “Don't have worry about me anymore, okay?”

“W-Wait— y/n—!” He’s quick to run, but it's too late. The doors slide shut, finally severing the thin red string of fate that held the two of you.

The rain falls with your tears as you cry into your hands, guilt washing over you like tidal waves. You remember his face the most, how heartbreak and betrayal etched with the dying fade of his smile. How you left him that day, how you left him everyday after that.

“I-I was just so tired, so tired of everything. I... I'm so sorry I pushed you away. I just didn't want you to worry about me anymore. You were always so good, everything about you, and I was scared I was holding you back and...and it hurt too much to stay knowing I was." Jungkook’s arm wrapped around your waist as his other hand gently pulled your head to his body. You're too stunned to move, but when you gather yourself, you decide you don't want to. You just cry, burying your face into his chest, your hands tightening around his shirt.

"I never once stopped thinking about you, y/n," he mumbled into your hair. "I never once not worried, never once not looked for you, and you—god, y/n—you never once held me back. Silly girl, don’t you know you were the only one who kept me together?” Jungkook lets out a noise, somewhere in between a sigh and a groan as he lowers his head onto your shoulder, "I did everything, anything to keep myself distracted from you. Competitions, sports, art, studies, friends.” His soft hair tickled your jaw as he nuzzled closer into the crook of your neck. “But I couldn’t, y/n, it was always you, it was never not you. Do you know how torn I was, watching you and not being able to talk to you? To hold you, be afraid of losing you even more than I already had?"

The pitter-pattering of the rain against the rooftop fills the voice you can’t seem to conjure. "Did you ever miss me?” Jungkook pulls away, and your eyes lock with his under the blue world. You realize then, by looking at him, just how scared he was. If you pushed him away again, he didn’t know what he’d do.

Reluctantly, you bring your hand to sweep Jungkook's tousled bangs away, brushing your fingers against the shell of his ear. "I did," you whisper, and more clearly, "I-I did, of course I did.” When Jungkook doesn't respond, your hand trails down his neck ... to his shoulders ... to his chest. "Do you hate me?"

Jungkook inhales sharply, "N-no." He could never.

"Your heart is beating so fast.... are you afraid?"

"I am."

"I am too," you lift his hand and place it against your own chest, laying it atop your own heartbeat. Thump, thump, thump, you don’t catch the pink of his cheeks when you’re too busy staring at the sad stars in his eyes. "I was too, back then. I know it's selfish, and i-i'm sorry I hurt you, but I hope you understand what kind of position I was in. I was so young, so scared—I just wanted to be alone, felt like it was a way to protect myself from anything else that could hurt me. I’m different now, I think, more stable—whatever that is," you chuckle dryly. "I can’t promise I won’t push you away, but I won’t leave anymore, really, s-so...."

Jungkook's eyes soften, his lids lowering when you say, "Can you trust me?"

"Of course," Jungkook breathes, “always.”

ACT III. | EPIPHANY

"Just go to sleep already, Jeon."

You've been repeating yourself for the past 3 hours, watching him restlessly saunter around his room. "...swear i’m missing something, I just don't know what..." Jungkook, like the countless of other times, dismissed you as he continued to tap his finger on his chin, mumbling to himself in intense focus. It was only when you’ve finally had enough, groaning and hurling a tissue box at him—which he instantly caught with ease—that he finally noticed your glare. "What was that for?"

"I said just go to sleep already!" You exhaled frustratedly, "you packed your whole room at this point, Kook. I swear you have, like, triple of everything you don't even need—so for the thousandth time, could you please just shut the lights?" It's been a few weeks since that one spring evening, and time started ticking again with Jungkook by your side. It took you awhile to adjust to his company, it was odd—but everything was odd at this point. Odd but comforting when Jungkook started visiting the rooftop every lunch, odd but reassuring when he'd pick you up after every shift, and odd but exciting to spend the night with him before the anticipated field trip to Jeju island. The four days were a granted escape before the tumultuous finals of the upcoming winter. Even you were a bit eager to go, having finally taken a justified leave off work.

"Fine, fine, but if I do end up forgetting something important, I blame you," Jungkook huffs, sauntering to the light switch. “Go ahead,” you roll your eyes, and with a small click!, a satisfied sigh escapes your lips. “Finally,” You snuggled into his pillows, but when the bed dips down right next to you, you realized you had forgotten to ask Jungkook to shut his mouth as well. "Will you sit next to me on the way there?" You squinted to the darkness, raising your brows at the silhouette of his figure. "Jungkook, you're literally my only friend, do you even need to ask?" He chuckled, "but will you? We don't have to sit with my friends if you don't want to."

You hummed, thinking as Jungkook carefully brushed loose strands of hair away from your face, the warmth of his fingers trailing down the side of your neck. You were reluctant about being seen with Jungkook at first, but the choice wasn't left to you when his friends spotted you and him at the library sometime ago. It honestly wasn't as bad as you expected, and more surprisingly, you even clicked with a few with them. Seokjin was one you gravitated to the most, being a truly funny and charming senior that you felt you could look up to. "No, it's fine. I like your friends." Jungkook’s head perked up, and the darkness captures the bright twinkle in his eyes. "Really, you do?" You smile, knowing how happy that must have made him. "Really, I do. Now can we please go to sleep? I'd like to be at least remotely awake for the first day."

“Okay, okay, grumpy head," a bunny like grin appears on his face as pinches your cheek, chuckling when you only grumble in return.

He strokes your hair down one last time before placing a kiss on your forehead. “Good night, y/n.”

"Good night, Kook," the reassuring warmth of his skin leaves yours, and you hear him shuffle in his own mattress on the floor. It's been awhile since you've felt like this, so safe. Though it didn't necessarily matter, being with Jungkook was different with Taehyung, you noticed. When it came to Taehyung, it was as if all your problems could dissipate with his touch. That for a moment, they could just disappear.

When it came to Jungkook, though, your problems were still there. They existed, they were real, and yet, when you with him, it felt like everything would be okay. He was like a breath fresh air, and you felt like you could get through anything—whatever it may be, as long as he was there. With that thought, you slowly, but surely, drifted to sleep.

ringgggg!! ringgg!!! ringggg!!

What happened afterwards came in fragments of fuzzy memories, distorted with exhaustion. It was the phone ringing first, then it was the shuffle of Jungkook rising from his mattress. The ringing, his heavy yawn, the ringing, groggy footsteps, the ringing, the clatter of the drawer—and finally, silence. "Y/n...?" His voice barely reached where your mind was, deep inside the depths of whatever dream dimension you were in. "Y/n," he said again. No reply. "Y/n... Y/n!"

"What?!" You groaned, lazily sitting up with a snarl and a bed head. The ringing starts again and you rub your eyes to where your phone screen illuminated Jungkook's face. "What is it?" You mumble, a little concerned to his expression. "God, is it Mrs. Joomi again? I just paid this month’s rent like a few d—"

"Mr. Kim."

You freeze. The two, single words are akin to iced buckets of water being splashed onto your face, instantly waking you up.

"Taehyung with a heart and moon emoji—but that's Mr. Kim, isn't it? In that photo? That's his first name." Your heart lurches forward. 태형☽<3, displaying a low quality photo of him that you secretly took while he was preparing breakfast. It was once a happy morning, and this was once a happy night—disrupted by its forbidden rays of joy.

When Jungkook finally looks at you through the stark darkness, you can only stare back, your heartbeats filling the silent stun of your dry throat. The bubbly melody stops, and when you don't say anything, Jungkook's voice grows louder, "Y/n what—what the hell is this? Why is Mr. Kim calling you at 3am? Why do you have a photo of him? Why is his contact—"

"J-Jungkook," You nervously moved to sit on the front edge of the bed, attempting to speak as calmly as you can. Jungkook would understand...right? He wouldn't tell, he couldn't. He knows you, your financial situation. It was okay. "Remember when you asked me not to push you away? Well, this is me letting you in. This is me trusting you Jungkook, so please just hear me out." Under the moonlight's glower, you see the bob of his adam's apple rise and fall. "Taehyung, he—"

"Taehyung?" You wince, the acidity of his voice like bitter poison. "I-I mean, Mr. Kim. M-Mr. Kim, he...helps me."

"Helps you?" Jungkook scoffs. "At 3am? How could he—" Suddenly, Jungkook's eyes go wide. "Y/n, you don't mean..."

You nod stiffly, "he gives me money in exchange for....i-its consensual! He helps me," your cheeks heat up, hating yourself for allowing this to happen, having to explain yourself. “A-anyway the point is, you won't tell anyone, right? You understand, don't you, Kook?"

"Understand?! Y/n—he’s a teacher! He's seven fucking years older than us—are you stupid, what were you thinking?!" The sting of his words ring in your ears like a harsh slap across your face. Throughout your years together, Jungkook had barely had the heart to scold you, so you were more than unprepared for his hurtful words. Your shock quickly subdues into anger though, and you stand up, “what I was thinking? What I was thinking?! I don't know Kook, maybe thinking about my fucking electric bill! Thinking about how to pay off debt—how to buy food for fuck's sake! I've looked after myself my whole life, and this is no different."

"Still—This is wrong, y/n! You know that! There are other ways like, like—"

"Like what Jungkook?!" You're in front of him now, pushing at his chest. "Working my ass off in nine to fives? Well I do that, Kook, every fucking day and yeah, a fucking disappointment for me too that it's not enough. You could never know how its like for me, but out of everyone, you're supposed to...! You’re supposed to understand,” you chuckle bitterly, shaking your head as a futile attempt to shake the hot tears away.

"Y/n...” Jungkook’s anger diminishes into a frustrated panic. He tries to reach for you, hold you, anything to keep you from crying because of him—but you turn away, and despite himself, he couldn’t help but feel guilty. He sighs harshly, his voice much softer now, “I just—out of all these years, you could've asked me. I was always there, y/n, and you never accepted me. I know we talked about this already, but the fact that...” He shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I do understand, but I was always here. I was your best friend, why did you have to go to him? Am I...am I that unreliable to you?"

Your own heart sinks for him this time, quickly shaking your head. “No, Kook. I-It's not like that. I'm sorry this has to be so complicated, that i've made you feel small. You are reliable, Jungkook. You're my safe place, my person—always have been. I appreciated you so much but you need to understand how terrible it felt for me back then. I hated being pitied by you. You’re my friend, not a fucking philanthropist."

Jungkook takes your hand this time, "I never wanted to help you because I pitied you, y/n. You were always so strong, I don't think you could ever be someone I could pity. I wanted to help because I cared for you, loved you, and it breaks my heart knowing that you went through such lengths when you could've turned to me."

You sigh, threading your hands over the back of his hair. "It was all just circumstantial, Kook. Taehyung found me at a really low point in my life. I didn't search for it, but he was there and i’m thankful for yim, so please Jungkook, please." Your eyes wavered beneath his sad stare, hoping, pleading. Jungkook bites on his lip, cursing, "look...I won't tell on you if that's what you're thinking. I would never do that to you, i'm just worried. He's calling you at nearly 4am, y/n—shit, h-has he hurt you? Did he ever make you do anything you didn't want to?" Jungkook looks frantic for a second, but you quickly shake your head. "N-no! No, god no, he's never hurt me! You know him Kook, Tae would never hurt me." You miss how you even said Tae or how Jungkook's jaw clenched to it.

"I won't say anything, y/n, at least...not yet. You have to end it."

"W-What?"

"He took advantage of you in a low position in your life, y/n."

"N-No Kook, you don't understand!"

"It's not your fault, y/n, it's completely his. He's the adult here, it was wrong. You have to end this."

"But I can't! The money, Kook, you know I can't."

"Then let me help you," he steps closer. Your hands slide to his chest now, shaking your head. "No, Jungkook, my answer has been no and its still no. I refuse to be your charity case," you scoff. "Then you're not going to be. I'll pay you to sleep with me too."

Your eyes instantly shoot open. What..?

"I'll pay you to sleep with me," he repeats calmly. "Anytime you need it, anytime I want it, and I'm certain I'll be able to give you more than whatever Mr. Kim could." Your mouth only hangs open, words dying in your dry throat.

"What's wrong?" Jungkook asks, taking a step closer. This time, you take a step back. "If you were fine with doing it with Mr. Kim, shouldn't it be fine with me?"

"N-No," your voice is barely a shaky whisper. More clearly, "No, Jungkook. I can't just—we just started talking again. You're my only friend, I won't ruin us just for—"

"I won't let anything happen to us, I promise y/n."

"B-but—"

"You don't have to worry about it, okay? Plus, isn't this situation more ideal? You'd get paid more and you wouldn't have to rely on—"

"I love him!"

Its Jungkook's turn to be silent. "What..?"

"I love him Kook," you croak, heat overwhelming your cheeks.

"Y/n..."

"I know it's wrong, I know he seems like an asshole but he's not. I know him, Kook, and i’m mature enough to know myself too. I made my decision back then, and I keep making it today because...I love him." You can’t help but feel your anguish trickle down your eyes, and you cry into your hands. That’s it then. It’s done. You’ve finally admitted it, yet despite the burden of the untold truth lifting—you felt heavier, worse. By now, Jungkook would’ve pulled you into a warm embrace. He’d hush you with soothing murmurs and delicate kisses on your forehead. He’d trail his fingers through your hair, tell you that he knew, that he gets it, that it was okay. But he doesn’t. He couldn’t. You were crying for another man, and all he could feel was ache.

Your phone rings once more, and from the night stand, you see Taehyung’s figure on the dimmed screen. You reluctantly look at Jungkook, but when he doesn’t say anything, his expression unreadable, you take it. "H-hello?"

"Hey, doll," Taehyung's voice is low. "I’m sorry I keep calling, I feel really shit for waking you up at this time. I know the Jeju trip is in a few hours, but I just needed to talk to you."

"No, no, its fine. I was already awake anyways, um...what is it?" You turned away from Jungkook, nervously biting on your lip. Despite everything that had unfolded between the two of you, it was strange. Taehyung never called you at this time after all—and him saying you guys needed to talk only heightened your nerves.

"It's better to talk in person. Where are you? I can pick you up." You shake your head, despite not him being able to see you. "N-No, i’ll come over...is that okay?"

"Yeah, of course, I'll see you soon." With that, the call ends. You can feel Jungkook’s eyes on your back—its overwhelming, and you’re scared to face the definite disgust and judgement in his them, so you don’t look at him when lift your bag across your shoulder. "I’m sorry, I...I need to go.”

ACT IV | LOVE IS NOT OVER

Jungkook hasn't seen you since last night. You never showed up at the meeting spot, never answered his calls or texts—never even once read the 68 of them.

He was certain you came, though—he checked in with Mrs. Yoon before boarding, but you were always good at hiding, and Jungkook was always an impatient seeker. The whole process of arriving, checking into the hotel, and splitting into groups was a whole blur that ended in him never finding you. After spending hours exploring the designated routes through antique shops, cute cafes, pretty sceneries, and meadows with his friends, he started to fear that you didn't come after all—that Mrs. Yoon had made a mistake.

Surely, he would've bumped into you at least once through the whole trip. And where the fuck was Mr. Kim? Jeju was supposed to be the pinnacle of his highschool experience. He’d be elated with the giddiness of being out with his friends, kissed with the gift of delicious freedom. But it was 7:46 PM now, and even when he overlooked the vast beach dipped with sunset's entrancing glow, he felt anything but. Not when Seokjin cracked his lame dad jokes, nor when Eunha got him to bike through scenic trails.

Jungkook sighed as the strawberry milk clattered to the bottom of the vending machine. He spotted it tucked away from the corner of the museum his group wandered into. He excused himself, relieved that their chaperone actually trusted him to be by himself. He needed the space.

He poked the straw through the carton, leaning against the cold metal as his eyes gazed over the glistening waves. He hated you. Always leaving him like this, always making him restless and unsure.

It was when he looked for the moon in the dusk sky that he noticed a familiar silhouette amidst the shore. It wavered with the wind, and Jungkook instantly felt his scorn. The man's jeweled hand was holding a cigarette between two fingers, overlooking the ocean with distant eyes.

Fuck the sand, fuck his expensive shoes, fuck everything. Jungkook doesn't know when he starts running, but he doesn't stop.

It all happened so past—the sun would have missed it if not for the perfect view she had just over the excited ripples of the ocean. When Taehyung noticed his presence, it was already too late. Jungkook had grabbed his collar, and without a second of hesitance, punched him across his face. Taehyung fell into the sand with a grunt, cursing loudly. “What the fuck?!” He turned to his perpetrator, his glare quickly diminishing into pure shock to see his own student right in front of him, eyes poisoned with resentment and hatred.

Taehyung's emotions came whirling at him all at once. The confusion, then the anger, the urge to scream at him and punch him until he was left bleeding on the shore—then the mediating side of him, understanding that he'd done more than enough to get his ass fired, why the fuck would he...?—then the realization. He sighs roughly, shaking his head as he stands. He isn't up for long though, as Jungkook takes another swing. Taehyung’s cheeks scream with stinging pain, but Jungkook’s on top of him, and he doesn’t stop.

"You fucking bitch!" Jungkook seethed, barely feeling his fist continuously bury into Taehyung’s face. He knew. He knew how much you loved him, he knew Taehyung helped you. He knew you'd get angry, maybe even hate him for the rest of his life for this—But maybe that's why he couldn't control himself. He didn't care if you thought Taehyung was some angel. To him, Taehyung was just a disgusting predator who took advantage of your situation, and deep down, maybe it was more for a selfish reason. Taehyung was a man who touched you, who had you—who wasn’t him. "You disgusting fuck. Don't ever fucking touch y/n again, you hear me?!" Another hit, but Jungkook is too blinded with anger to realize the scary amount of blood drooling down his nose and lips, from the cuts of his cheeks. "I know," Taehyung rasps.

"If you know then why did you do it?! You’re a fucking creep, you’re disgusting.”

"I know," another hit, and blood stains his shirt. Taehyung curses and grabs Jungkook's fist before he can throw another punch, pushing him into the sand. "You dick, I swear to god, I swear to fucking god I'll fucking kill you." Jungkook thrashes under Taehyung, but the teacher buries both his wrists into the ground, his weight holding the younger boy down.

“Sh-Shit, Look, I know how you must feel about me, and I know I deserve this, but I would much rather avoid being seen like this so I'm going to say this quick and you're going to listen."

"Fuck you," Jungkook growls, glaring at the man on top of him. His eyes were unreadable, almost enigmatic, and Jungkook hated every unwavering speckle of deep brown in it.

"I don't regret it," Taehyung disregards him. "I liked her—y/n—and no matter what you think of me, that stands true. You must like her too, she told me about you some nights. I have to admit, hearing about another boy when she's laying in my own bed wasn't very pleasant for me, but you made her happy. You mean a lot to her," Jungkook shut his eyes tightly, cursing as he tried to get the image of Taehyung holding you in his arms out of his mind. "I know you don't think I care about her, but I do, so just fucking listen for a second okay? I know i'm no good for her, but you aren't either. You're too immature, we both know y/n deserves way more. See where you are now? Right under me when you could be there for her? Have you even seen her today? Have you asked her how she's been?"

"What... what the fuck are you saying."

Taehyung sighs, and stumbles back to stand, wincing as the harsh winds slap his bloodied face. He nimbly looks for his cigarette, and before he lights it, Jungkook grabs his lighter. "I said what the fuck do you mean?!"

"I ended it with her," Taehyung glares at him, his voice firm, cold as he snatches the lighter back. Jungkook feels his heart drop. “You...what?"

There's silence, and when the man turns to look at the sun drowning into the ocean’s abyss, he lights the cigarette, "the fireworks are starting soon." Jungkook's eyes widens. Before he knows it, he's already running.

You’ve always loved the fireworks.

His footsteps that were submerged into sand were now padding against the concrete of the sidewalk, his heart pounding in his ears. A few cars must have honked at him here and there as he ran through the streets, unknowing of his surrounding because all he can think of his getting to his destination—you. He frantically reaches for his phone, panting.

You

JK : where are you?

my love : my room

my love : 613, 7th floor

JK : on my way.

ACT V. | HOLD ME TIGHT

At least the fireworks were pretty.

Your eyelids drooped, puffed with drowsy red as you watched the sparkling scene on the balcony of the hotel. Evening's cold breeze teased your bare legs, dancing with the delicate ends of your black, satin nightgown. You were hugging yourself yourself, leaning against the cold railings as sparks of vivid red shatter into memories tainted with heartbreak. The red silk sheets that you grasped tightly beneath you. The red lingerie that Taehyung slid off your skin. The red wine he poured into the pan when you told him you were hungry. You liked watching him the most, you thought as he stood in front of the stove, his eyes trained on the steak. You liked watching him unbutton his top, talk about his day, how he let out loud laughter whenever a funny story would come up. You loved when he unveiled himself for you, when he'd strip off his enigmatic persona bare and let you peer into his soul.

But that's all you ever did, you guessed, all you ever could do. You watched him when he smiled down at you, his cold fingertips brushing your waist, and you watched him as he left.

It must've been 4 minutes into the firework show when you heard the doorbell ring. Sighing, you leave the balcony as yellow ignites the night sky. You open the door to Jungkook, his chest heaving up and down, his hair tousled by wind, beads of sweat sticking to his neck.

When he doesn't say anything, and neither do you, you step aside to let him in. You wonder if he was still angry about last night, how he'd react when you tell him—but with the way he looked down at you, tender eyes dawned with sadness, you already understand you don’t have to. "I know," Jungkook steps closer, pulling you into a hug. His warmth embraces you as darkness does when the door clicks shut. "What happened, I know."

You sighed, closing your eyes. The fireworks sounded so distant compared to his heartbeat. Jungkook must've ran for you, you thought as your buried your face into his chest. Of course he would, he always has. Maybe that certainty is what intoxicates you to murmur, "I'll accept it."

"What?"

"What you proposed last night, I'll accept it," you say calmly, quietly. You looked up at him with wavering eyes, "please...I need you right now."

Jungkook's heart practically lurched out of his chest. He knew he should take a step back, tell you that you'd end up regretting it and to take it back before it was too late. He knew, but the devil on his shoulder was much more insistent than his angel, and maybe... maybe his angel wanted it too—so fuck it all.

Jungkook took your lips in a magnetic dance, drawing you closer into him with one hand on your lower back and the other behind your head.

God, you were so lovely. How your head lolled for him, soft, plush lips jarred open. Jungkook has always been good at controlling himself when it came to you, but when he heard the slightest whimper escape your trembling lips, he felt he couldn't hold himself back any longer.

He didn't seek for permission to suck your lower lip, didn’t even seek permission to slide his tongue inside your lovely little mouth when you gasped. He held your chin, deepening the kiss. More, more, more—he wanted more of you. He wanted to explore your body, wanted to make your breath tremble, wanted to find out what you liked and disliked under bedsheets. Jungkook wanted to know you better than anyone else had. He wanted you, needed you.

“Kook,” You whimper into him as he pushes you against the wall, holding your thigh up. He grinds his bulge against your clothed cunt, sending wild tremors along your nerves. “F-feels so good.”

“Yeah?” He takes your other thigh, and you yelp as he lifts you up. Your surprise quickly washes out with haze when he buries his thick tent further into you. You let out a moan, wrapping your legs around his torso. “I can make you feel even better.”

The explosions of the fireworks are blurred with the palpitations of your heart as Jungkook lays you on the bed, his lips immediately finding home in yours. "Love how you sound for me, love," Jungkook’s wet, needy kisses trail down your neck...to your collarbones...to your breast. “So pretty like this, always so pretty,” his fingers ghost your sensitive nipples, perked from evening's cold. He doesn't waste any time to take one nipple into his mouth, his fingers playing with the other.

His cold hand trails down your stomach, finally pressing it down your soaked underwear. He smirks, feeling the soaked outline of your pussy lips. “Already so wet for me baby? How cute."

His plush lips leave your nipple with a pop, instead latching onto the crook of your neck. Your eyes go wide when you realize what he's about to do. “Wait, d-don’t! Not th—ah.” He doesn't allow you to finish your sentence, swiftly sliding your underwear out of the way before pressing a hard thumb over your clit. “Don't deny me, y/n,” His voice is low over your whiny moans. He sucks on the supple of your skin as he slides one, slender finger into you, smoothly drawing it in and out while he rolls your little bud with his other. “Please, need to show everyone that you’re mine,” he murmurs, licking his work, perfectly tinged with a pretty pink . “Besides...” he trails, taking note of your arousal dripping down his wrists. “You love this, don’t you?”

“N-No..! I...ah, K-Kook, Kookie..!” Your voice fails you, moans escaping from your trembling lips. “Jungkook s-stop..!” Jungkook frowns against your skin, and he lifts his head up to meet your gaze. “Why not?” His eyes are dark. You try to fight the muddle of your mind as his slow, tentative fingers continue to work on your cunt. “B-Because...because student c-council. It's inappropriate, and your friends will ask, a-and... mm!—“

“Taehyung?” Jungkook says bitterly, but you’re too indulged with the knot in your stomach. You moan loudly, your hands finding anchor wrapped around his biceps. “I'm sure you don’t want Taehyung to see, do you?” Jungkook's pace is furious now, and you barely make out his words through the thick fog of your mind. You feel so close. “Don’t want him to know that you're with me, hm? That i’m finger fucking you into my dumb whore."

His indecent words paint a wild blush on your cheeks. You never knew Jungkook could be like this, could be so mean.

"You know what I think..."

Jungkook lowers himself down between your sweaty thighs, quivering with painful pleasure. "''Think my dumb babygirl wants me to clean her messy little pussy up. Would you like that, love?"

"Y-Yeah," you moan, desperately bucking your hips up, "p-please eat me out, Kook."

"Needy girl," Jungkook lets out a sigh, his pants tightening around his painful hard on. You were so pretty like this, Jungkook swore he could cum just by watching you.

You almost cry when he pulls his fingers away, instead squeezing around your squishy hips. You do cry, though, when he gives your pussy a tantalizing lick, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. "Knew my baby girl would taste so sweet," he groans. His tongue circles around your throbbing bud, sucking on it.

"Fuck! K-Kook, I-I can't," you wail, tears falling down your cheeks. Jungkook only flutters his eyes open, watching you with heated eyes as his tongue works on your wet cunt.

"Please, g-gonna cum, please!" Your back arches. Jungkook's hands the only thing anchoring you down.

"Then cum, baby, cum for me." Jungkok's voice is tender, coaxing like warm honey. With his encouragement, your dripping cunt spasms, unfurling your cream all over him. "That's my girl," His attentive tongue takes your sweet release, the embarrassing sound of slurping clouding your brain.

"You were so good for me, baby," He cooes, planting one final kiss on your quivering bud. Your cheeks tinge with a shy pink.

He lifts himself up, carefully laying over you so his forehead is pressed against yours. His eyes search yours under the veil of the moonlight. The fireworks must've stopped along the way, your heavy breaths filling the quiet room. "Tired, love?" Jungkook whispers, and you nod timidly, reaching your arms out to hug him.

Your skin is sticky with sweat like melting ice cream on hot summer days, but Jungkook adores his body pressed against yours. His fingers squeeze your smooth waist, placing gentle kisses on your neck, up your jaw, capturing your lips once more in a slow dance. A thin string line of saliva connects the two of you when he pulls back, and he breaks it off with a gentle graze across your wet lips.

"Think you can continue for me, baby?" Jungkook asks soothingly. "It's okay if you can't, of course. Must've been such a long day for you."

You shake your head, your hand lightly tracing the outline of the small scar on his cheek. You still remember the day he fell off his bicycle, somehow managing to tumble down the hill all the way to the train tracks. It must've been the first time you ever saw him cry.

"I want to."

"Are you sure?" His eyebrows perk up. "Because we really don't have to. I don't ever want you to feel like you have to please me. I know you took my offer, but if you aren't ready or comfortable, nothing has to happen. Believe it or not, pleasuring you already makes me feel euphoric." His words have you melt, gentle as a sweet night's lullaby.

"But I want us to feel good together," you say softly. "Please take me, Kookie. I want you." Jungkook's eyes widen, faint pink blooming on his cheeks, and you watch the stars in his eyes grow brighter with your shy gaze. He lets out a small chuckle, "god, you really don't know what you do to me, y/n."

He places a gentle peck on your lips one last time before rising to his knees, discarding his clothes. You're quick to slip off your nightdress and underwear, and you patiently admire Jungkook's toned physique as he worked to unbuckle his belt. Even the moon was enamored with him, tracing its luminous glow from his broad shoulders to his biceps, wrapping around his slim waist.

Your breath hitches when his dick springs out right in front of you, thick and swollen, oozing pre cum. Jungkook watches you with heated eyes, his hand grazing his dick. "Wow," you breathe, sitting up and replacing his hand with yours. Jungkook's hisses when you stroke his cock, doe eyed to his length that throbbed with neglect. "You're so pretty, Kookie. You're pretty everywhere..."

"I should be the one who's telling you that, darling," he lets out a shaky breath through his smile, his hand finding your cheek. "Now, i’d love for that lovely little mouth of yours to suck my cock, but I feel like i'm gonna explode any minute now, and i'd like to do so inside of you," he chuckles when a furious blush takes your cheeks. You let him push you down, positioning himself in between your legs. He takes his pulsating cock in his hands, sliding his glistening head over your cunt. "Would you like that baby? Want me to cum in this cute little pussy? Wanna take Kook's cum like a good girl?" You feel yourself shy from his words, whimpering, "y-yes please, Kookie."

"Tell me how much you want it, baby."

"S-So bad. Kookie p-please, want you to fill me up."

"Yeah?" Jungkook chuckled, a cocky smirk on his lips that made you tremble. "Think your tiny pussy can even take my cock?"

"Y-Yes, m'pussy wants your cock, p-please Kook!"

"Dirty girl, love it when you beg for me," he pushes the blunt head of his cock into your swelling entrance, already having you see stars by the time he fills you up whole. "You okay?" Jungkook breathes out, his forehead falling against yours. You nodded timidly, "j-just need a little time to adjust."

"Okay, baby, tell me when you're ready." He pecks your nose, letting out a shaky sigh as your walls clench around him. When you do, Jungkook takes your knees, pushing them on either side of you so your legs are spread out wide for him.

He pulls out his whole cock so he could see the flush tip of his cock before plunging back into you. You moan loudly to his even pace, bottoming you out with every thrust.

"F-fuck, been wishing for this forever. Just want to punish this pussy for making me wait for this long."

Harsh skin to skin contact and the squelch of your juices mixing together fills your fuzzy mind. You felt so full, you could practically feel him in your belly. "Shit, you're practically swallowing me. You like this, don't you?"

"Y-yeah, love your cock, Kookie," you moan, his pace growing faster and more unforgiving. "I'm never letting you go after this, fuck y/n. You're mine, you’re so fucking mine. Say it, say you're mine, p-please."

"Yours," you whimper, feeling the familiar tingling ecstasy overwhelm your stomach. "O-Only yours, Kookie."

"That's right, baby, open your mouth." You didn't know exactly why, but you didn't question him. He could tell you to do absolutely anything right now and you'd do it. Your wet lips jar open for him, and Jungkook spits in your mouth, sending a wave of tremor through your body. "Swallow."

You listen, obediently swallowing. "That's my girl."

"Kookie, kookie...m'gonna cum!"

"Again baby? You’re so easy, barely have to do anything and you're spilling." You moan to his words, thrusting in and out of you in a hypnotic pace. "Go on then, baby. Cum for me, make a mess over my balls."

Your whole body tenses, feeling the overwhelming wave wash over you. Eyes rolling to the back of your head, you release around him the second time. "Good girl, baby, so good for me, fuck," Jungkook hisses to your tightening walls squeezing around him, driving himself into your belly until he pours all his cum deep inside of you.

You practically drooled, his load coming out in spurts of thick cream. When he pulls out, your pussy twitches, his cum oozing out. He falls onto your chest, and your heavy pants fill the room.

After awhile, Jungkook lazily pulls you to lay over him. "Okay, baby?"

"Mm," you murmur into his sweaty chest, trying to recollect your breath. You open your mouth to thank him, but a loud explosion takes your voice. In a second, waves of yellow wash the room, then blue, then purple. Your tiredness subdues into drowsy awe. You sit up and Jungkook does too, positioning you on his lap. "I think this is the second show. Timing is fitting don't you think?"

You giggle, and Jungkook sees daylight in your eyes. "Too fitting. I'm starting to think that this was all part of some big plan."

Jungkook rolls his eyes, laughing as he tucks a hair behind your ear. "Silly girl, of course it is." You look at him quizzically. "We're soulmates aren't we? The universe is just celebrating us."

You smile, sighing as you lean into his chest. "Whatever you say, my soulmate." Jungkook's eyes widen. He felt twelve again, dumbstruck euphoria overwhelming his love for you any time you called him yours. His shock settles into a soft smile, holding you in his arms while you watch the fireworks. It takes him awhile to realize your eyes are closed though.

"Sleepy, love? Thought you loved the fireworks."

"I do," you giggle, pushing him down onto the soft mattress. You snuggle into his chest. "Just listening to your heartbeat."

Jungkook blushes. He was going to urge you to clean up, but with you looking so cozy on top of him, he knew you'd much rather rest. He sighs lovingly, stroking your hair. He hasn't felt this happy in awhile. "About your payment, I’ll wire $800 just for tomorrow, but we’ll officially talk about the—"

“Shhhh!” You grumble, burying your head further into him. “Don’t wanna talk about money right now, just let me be with you.”

Jungkook blinks, and you look up to him with a pout. Purple lights up the seoul's night sky, casting an soft glow on Jungkook’s face. He chuckles, thumb brushing your cheeks.

"Needy girl.”

a/n : wooooo this took the longest time to write. its pretty bulky so whoevers got to this point i love you sosososo and i hope you enjoyed my work ! feedback is welcome and super appreciated, reading comments really do make my day <3 i was thinking of making a sequel/continuation for this but im not so sure ,, we'll see. anyways, i hope you have a lovely day my loves ! stay hydrated and healthy, i hope you eat good food today. make sure to take care of yourself too !

#jungkook au #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #bangtan sonyeondan #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts jk #bangtan #bangtan boys #jungkook scenarios #jungkook friends to lovers #kim taehyung

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radiantroope · 4 years ago

Text

Do You Trust Me? || JJ Maybank

pairing: jj x reader

mentions: john b, kiara, pope

requested: yes, i don’t have the exact request because it’s over on @maybanksbitch

summary: jj finds out you’ve never had sex. being the loving best friend that he is, he offers to show you what you’ve been missing.

warnings: swearing, underage drinking, mentions of peer pressure, fluff, protected sex (no glove, no love), very detailed and graphic fluffy smut

wc: idfk but it’s LONG

a/n: well, here it is! the end’s kinda shitty but honestly, i needed to finish this instead of going back to it on and off for a week. this is unedited because it’s long as hell and i’m lazy.

masterlist | add yourself to my tag list

* not my gif. if it’s yours, please let me know so i can give you proper credit!

It was a lazy day at the Chateau for you and the Pogues. Everyone was debating on what to do for the day. John B suggesting surfing, Pope suggested fishing, Kiara desperately wanted to go swimming since it was blistering hot out. You and JJ were the only two who seemed keen on staying in. You’d rather sit around drinking and playing dumb games.

You sat with Kiara and John B in a half circle of old, stained lawn chairs. Pope and JJ were playing their favorite game that you called ‘Balance’. The one where you try and knock the other person off balance by pushing their shoulder. They were both holding strong, neither one leaning too far with each push.

Somehow you’d all gotten on the topic of hookups. JJ glanced your way and caught your eye for half a second. He’d been your best friend since you were in diapers, of course he knew you didn’t hookup with, well, anyone. The other Pogues didn’t know that though.

“Remember Fallon?” John B asked the group, sending JJ a sinister smile.

“Oh my God, she was obsessed with JJ!” Kiara shrieked through laughs.

You couldn’t help but laugh too, earning a glare from the blonde headed boy. Everyone remembered the crazy redhead who spent everyday at the Chateau looking for JJ.

“That was the first and only time we’ve ever had to lock the doors,” Pope recalled the memory, laughing when JJ shoved his shoulder harder.

“Oh, don’t think I don’t remember Crystal,” JJ teased, pointing a John B. “Or Brad,” he added and turned to Kiara with a raised eyebrow.

“God he still texts me,” Kiara muttered, shuddering at the memory of the Touron who practically fell in love with her last Summer.

“What about you, Y/N? We see the guys all over you at the parties. One ever stick?” Pope asked.

JJ’s jaw clenched at his question. He caught your eye yet again and almost fell over when Pope gave him a good push. You knew the blonde hated how guys treated you at parties. He was always there to get you out of those uncomfortable situations.

“Andrew,” you responded, feeling your chest tighten.

Your exboyfriend was a touchy subject. He dumped you after a year together when you still didn’t want to sleep with him. It never felt like the right time and at first he was okay with it, until he wasn’t. He tried to demand you sleep with him because that’s what couples do.

“He was your boyfriend, he doesn’t count,” John B said.

“I met him at a party though.”

“But he wasn’t just some hookup that became obsessed,” Kiara added.

“He was an asshole and friends with Rafe. Let’s leave it at that,” JJ intervened and gave up on the game with Pope.

The blonde walked over to you and instead of taking the empty chair between yourself and John B, he plopped himself right on your lap. You huffed and wrapped your arm around his middle when he leant back against you. You brought your bottle of Budweiser up your lips, giggling as some of the cold condensation dripped on JJ’s bare shoulder and he shivered.

The conversation changed quickly after that. JJ was protective of you and they all knew if they continued, they’d never hear the end of it. No one wanted to be on that end of JJ’s anger.

Eventually, it was decided that John B, Pope and Kiara would take the HMS Pogue our for a ride. Where they ended up was unknown, but they needed to get out of the house.

“Y’all coming?” John B asked as he stood up and stretched.

“Nah, I think we’re gonna hang back,” JJ answered for the both of you, though you weren’t complaining. You missed the days where it was just you and him. It would be nice to spend some quality alone time with your best friend for the first time in forever.

“Suit yourselves, you two have fun,” the brunette shrugged and went to follow your other two friends down the dock.

“But not too much fun!” Pope quickly called, pointing two fingers at his eyes then back at you.

JJ rolled his eyes and sent Pope his middle finger while you laughed. They all teased you two for being so close. They insisted that you were soulmates and just blind to it. You’d be lying if you didn’t feel some type of way towards the blonde, but you always pushed those feelings away. Soulmates could be best friends, right? They didn’t always have to be lovers.

“Okay, my legs are numb. Please get up,” you patted JJ’s stomach and let out a grunt as he stood.

JJ grabbed the chair John B had been sitting in and pulled it over so he could sit in front of you. He leaned forwards and rested his elbows on his knees, hands reaching out and grabbing your free one. He toyed with the bracelets on your wrist and tightened the ones that were coming loose.

You could tell his brain was at work with the way his crystal blue eyes glazed over. He wasn’t really even paying attention to what he was doing. You wanted to ask him what he was thinking about but also didn’t want to ruin the comforting moment. The rough pads of his thumbs started massaging gently into the top of your hand as his eyes flickered up to your face.

“I have a question. You don’t have to answer, obviously, but I’d like to know,” the blonde broke the silence with his soft voice.

You raised an eyebrow in response, giving him the indication to continue.

“I know you don’t hookup with people at parties, but I’ve also never heard you talk about Andrew in that way,” JJ started, causing your heart rate to increase. You knew where he was going with this. “Are you...have you-have you ever had sex?”

You mouth went dry at the blonde’s question. He may have been your best friend, but that wasn’t something you disclosed with him. Your friends may have been comfortable with expressing their sexual endeavors but not you. You let people think what they wanted and didn’t really care if it was true.

Your lack of response made JJ nervous. He didn’t want to pressure you into talking about something you didn’t want to. He couldn’t care less wether you had sex or not, he was just curious. “You can tell me anything, Y/N. You know I won’t judge you,” he added.

“I know, I know,” you told him, twisting your hand to hold the blonde’s. The tiniest smiled curled at the corner of his lips.

“I, um, yeah, no,” you stumbled over your words, cheeks heating up under JJ’s intense stare. “I’ve never had sex.”

“Not even with Andrew?”

You shook your head and let out a small laugh, avoiding his gaze and staring out at the water. “It never felt right with him. He dumped me because I wouldn’t,” you explained, feeling his grip tighten on your hand. “And I hate the idea of drunk, meaningless hookups too. It’s not like I don’t want to have sex, of course I do, just not like that.”

JJ’s bright eyes watched the way your index finger tapped against the neck of your beer bottle. His gaze trailed up your arm and stopped on your lips. He could see that you were chewing on the inside of your bottom lip. He watched your eyes flicker across the horizon, sparkling with the sun’s reflection. Your hair blew over your shoulder in the warm breeze.

“Do you trust me?” your blonde best friend caught your attention with his question.

You turned and met his stare, eyebrows furrowing a bit. You answered, “Of course I do. More than anyone in the world.”

“Would you let me make you feel good? Show you what you’ve been missing?” JJ was calm and collected on the outside, but on the inside his heart was hammering against his chest.

You didn’t know what to say at first. You’d be lying if you said you’d never thought about it. JJ was hands down, the most attractive guy on the island, in your opinion. And you knew him in a way other people didn’t. You didn’t know how you hadn’t already taken the dive and fallen in love with him sooner. With the way he was looking at you right now, it started to seem like a possibility.

The pads of JJ’s fingers started to ghost up and down your arm slowly, causing a shiver to run through you. He tilted his head and questioned you, “Y/N?”

You took a gulp of your beer to ease your nerves and set it in the cup holder of the chair. Breathing in deeply through your nose, your e/c eyes fell on his sapphire ones yet again. You head bobbed as you nodded and small smile spread across your lips, saying, “Yeah.. yeah, okay.”

JJ stood up and pulled you up as well with the hands holding yours. He interlocked you’re fingers and led you the short distance up to the Chateau. With each step your heart started to beat faster. You grasped the blonde’s hand tighter to try and keep yourself from shaking. He smiled over his shoulder at you as you crossed the threshold into the house.

The blonde’s hand left yours once you’d entered the spare bedroom. You turned and shut the door, flipping the lock into place just in case the Pogues came back during your escapades. You turned around and tried not to ogle at JJ who had shed his shirt in the few seconds you’d had your back to him.

A smirk curled on his lips as he sat down on the edge of the bed. You’d seen him shirtless thousands of times, but this was different. His eyes were a darker shade as he stared you down. A heat spread through your body as JJ used one finger to beckon you to him, a soft “C’mere” leaving his lips.

You took the few steps to the bed and stopped in front of him. His hands reached out and landed on your waist, pulling you in between his legs. He guided you down into his lap until you were straddling him. Your soft breaths mingled with his from the close proximity. Your hands found place on the warm skin of his bare shoulders.

“If it starts to be too much for you, just tell me to stop,” JJ’s voice was soft as he reached up and tucked your hair behind your right ear, “Okay?”

You nodded and gave him a small smile, whispering, “Okay.”

JJ’s pointer finger hooked under your chin and pulled your lips to his. He tasted like beer with a hint of mint and his lips were a bit chapped. He could taste your cherry chapstick and a soft hum left him. Your fingers slid their way around his neck and into the soft waves on the back of his head.

The blonde’s hands found your waist again as he pulled you closer. Your head tilted, deepening the kiss as you felt his tongue swipe your bottom lip. You obliged and allowed your lips to part, tongues dancing together. Your head was spinning. Never did you think you’d be kissing your best friend of sixteen years, nor that it would feel so good; so natural.

JJ’s fingers slipped under the material of your shirt, dancing against the soft skin of your hips. You pulled away from his lips, breathless. His eyes were soft as he gazed up at you and pushed his hands higher, your shirt moving with them. His hands sat on your ribs, thumbs stroking your skin.

“Can I take this off?” he whispered, eyes darting between both of yours, reading your expression to make sure you weren’t overwhelmed.

You bit down on your swollen bottom lip and nodded, holding your arms up as JJ removed the clothing. Your arms came back down, hands resting against his defined pecks as he took in your naked chest. It wasn’t unusual for you to not wear a bra. They were uncomfortable and itchy so you hardly ever wore one unless completely necessary.

“God, you’re fucking beautiful,” JJ breathed as his hands came up and cupped the mounds of flesh.

Your heart fluttered at the compliment, cheeks flushing and a smile spreading across your lips. JJ’s head dropped, nose nudging your jaw as you turned your head to the side. He pressed open mouthed kisses to your neck, sharp teeth gently nipping in certain spots. Your eyes slipped closed, breath hitching as he found your sweet spot and focused his mouth there.

His hands stayed on your chest, squeezing your breasts softly. He pinched one of your nipples between his thumb and pointer finger. On the other side his thumb brushed over the peaked nub with the lightest touch. A soft moan escaped your lips at the sensations he was bringing you. Your body was getting hotter, a tingling feeling intensifying between your legs.

JJ lifted his head when he was satisfied with the marks littering your skin. He brought his lips back to yours in a hard kiss, tongue immediately pressing it’s way into your mouth. His hands gripped your thighs as he turned the two of you abruptly.

Your back met the mattress and your lips seperated. He was settled between your legs, hands on both sides of your head. He took in the way your pupils were blown, parted lips puffy from the pressure of his own. Your hair was sprawled around you as short pants left your body. A smile tugged at his lips as he leant down to kiss you again. JJ was starting to think he didn’t care if you were the only girl underneath him for the rest of time.

His lips didn’t stay on your for long, wet kisses being pressed down your neck and chest. You watched him kiss his way down your stomach to the hem of your shorts. His eyes flickered up to yours in question as his fingers lingered around the button.

Your head moved in a single nod and that’s all it took for the boy to undo your shorts and pull them off, your underwear going with them. You felt shy under JJ’s hungry gaze as he dropped your clothing onto the floor. Your thighs went to clamp shut but he put his hands on your knees to stop you.

“Is it too much?” the blonde asked, staring up at you.

“No, no,” you responded quickly and smiled softly, putting a hand over the side of your burning face. “S’just no one’s ever seen me like this before.”

JJ smiled at you and glided his hands up your thighs, leaning down to kiss the inside of your knee. He started to trail his lips up the inside of your thigh slowly, eyes still locked on yours. “You’re beautiful,” he told you again against your skin.

You bit your lip to hide your grin and shifted as he pushed your legs open wider. JJ laid down flat on his stomach in between your legs, nearly moaning as his painfully hard cock brushed against the mattress through his board shorts. His eyes flickered up to your face and remained there as he leaned forward and tested the waters, tongue dragging through your folds slowly.

A soft gasp left your lips at the foreign feeling. The bottoms of your feet pressed further into mattress. JJ repeated the action a few more times, the drag of the velvety muscle against your clit sent jolts of electricty through your body. His middle finger came proding at your entrance, slipping in with ease.

He pumped the single digit and slid his ring finger in beside it after a minute. A soft noise of discomfort left your parted lips. JJ wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked softly to distract from the feeling. There was no stopping the smirk on his lips when a sharp moan left you as he curled his fingers. His tongue flicked at your sensitive bundle nerves and your fingers grasped onto the sheets tighter, another moan leaving your mouth.

“Ah, shit,” you hissed, face scrunching in discomfort as he added a third finger.

JJ looked up at you and then focused his mouth on your quivering inner thighs, trying to ease the pain. “I know, I know. But I’ve gotta make sure you’re good ‘n stretched so it’ll hurt less,” he cooed.

You nodded twice and breathed slowly as you willed your body to relax. JJ’s mouth came down and found your clit again. He swirled his tongue as he began pumping his fingers again. He was pleased to hear your whimpers turn back into moans.

The blonde pulled away when he figured you were stretched enough. He wanted nothing more than to have you cum around his fingers, then his cock, but he thought it might be too much for you. A soft whine came from the back of your throat when his fingers left you and he chuckled.

JJ came to a standing position beside the bed and undid the strings on his shorts. He pushed them down and kicked them off, dick standing hard and proud once it was free. He didn’t miss the way your eyes widened and you nervously swallowed as you eyed him.

“I know it looks intimidating,” JJ started, feeling proud that you were impressed. “But you’ll be okay.”

“JJ, you’re gonna rip me in half with that,” you stated, completely serious.

A loud laugh came from the blonde as he bent down and grabbed a condom from the box stored under the bed. He stood back up and crawled onto the bed, silver foil packet clutched between his fingers.

“That’s not gonna happen, baby, promise,” the nickname directed at you rolled off his tongue and your stomach flipped. You’d always teased each other with names like that but it was different in this sense.

You watched silently as JJ ripped open the condom package. His hands shook the slightest bit as he rolled it on and let out a puff of air from the little contact his erection received. He shuffled closer to you on his knees and hooked his hands under the backs of your thighs, pushing them towards your chest. You bit down on your bottom lip as you felt the head of his cock brush your entrance.

“Ready?” the blonde asked, bright eyes meeting yours. His thumb rubbed gently on the back of your thigh as if to tell you it’s okay to back out now.

You nodded in response and let out a deep breath through your nose. Your hand reached down and gripped onto JJ’s wrist that had your leg held back. He gave you a small smile then looked down between your bodies, free hand helping guide his length into your entrance.

Your mouth fell open, hand squeezing onto his wrist tighter as he pushed into you slowly, inch by inch. JJ’s jaw clenched as your pussy gripped him like a vice. He put the hand that was free on your hip and paused.

“Relax, Y/N, you gotta relax,” he groaned out, resisting the urge to plunge into you like he was used to.

“I’m trying,” you whimpered, tears stinging the corners of your eyes.

“Breathe,” JJ told you, “Breathe through it, baby.”

You sucked in a shaky breath through your nose and let it out your mouth, repeating the action until your muscles started unwinding. The muscular boy above you huffed when he felt you unclench around him. He pressed forward again until his thighs were pressed against the back of your own.

He stayed like that, letting you adjust, drawing soothing circles against your skin as he waited. He looked up to your face and saw you had your eyes clenched shut. His hand came up and caressed the side of your face, thumb brushing underneath your eye.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

You swallowed thickly and opened your eyes to look up at him. He was staring down at you in worry but his eyes were filled with nothing but adoration. The whole scenario was making your head spin.

You were laying there, stuffed full for the first time with your best friend’s cock. What?

“Y-Yeah,” you managed to respond, feeling breathless under his stare. “You can move.”

JJ put the hand that was on your face beside your head, leaning his weight on it as he hovered over you. He pulled out slowly then pressed back in. He pushed your leg back farther with the other hand and thrust his hips again.

It was an agonizingly slow pace, you knew that much, but he was taking his time with you and you’d never been so grateful. Anyone else probably wouldn’t have taken care of you the way JJ was. You couldn’t picture losing it to anyone else in that moment. He was the closest friend you had. He was your person.

JJ’s eyes moved between your face and down to where your bodies met repeatedly. He was entranced by seeing your tight walls grip him so deliciously, but also needed to make sure you were okay. He smirked slightly when he saw the crease inbetween your eyebrows disappear with each thrust and soft, pleasured noises started to leave your lips.

The blonde boy began thrusting faster, unable to contain the low groan that bubbled in his throat. Your hands moved up onto the back of his neck and wrapped around his bicep. Your blunt nails dug into his skin as you moaned louder, head tilting back and pressing into the mattress.

JJ readjusted his position, dropping to his elbows on both sides of you. You hiked your legs up on his hips, breath catching in your throat at the new angle. His cock made you feel so full, brushing against your g-spot with each stroke.

“Fuck, J,” you moaned out, fingers tangling in the hair on the back of his head.

The feeling JJ got when looked at you underneath him and you moaned for him was indescribable. A heat flooded his whole body. He wanted to be the one who made you feel good; the only one. The thought of anyone else seeing you like this infuriated him, but the feeling of your hand tugging on his hair brought him out of the trance.

“You’re doing so good,” he muttered, bending his head down to press kisses to your neck, “so good.”

JJ’s thrusts got harder, the head of his cock pressing up against that spot inside of you that made you see stars. You cried you, gripping onto him as he kept the pace, his mouth working more marks into your skin.

He didn’t think he could last much longer, not with how tight your pussy clenched around him every time he hit your spot, moaning his name in ear. He pushed his weight onto one arm and slid the other down between the two of you. He lifted his head and watched as your mouth fell open as soon as his fingers made contact with your clit. He rubbed in quick figure eights, working you up to your high.

“O-Oh shit,” you cursed, nails scratching against JJ’s shoulders as your back arched off the bed.

Your whole body was tingling, a tightening feeling coiling in the pit of your stomach. The rhythm of JJ’s thrusts never faltered. The sinful moan that tore through your throat as you came was music to the blonde’s ears.

“Fuck,” JJ gasped as you clenched around him, following you into euphoria with a moan of his own.

Your thighs shook, still hooked around his waist as you came down from your high. Your arms were still wrapped around his shoulders as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. The two of stayed like that for a few minutes, letting your heavy breaths return back to normal.

Eventually, JJ pulled out of you slowly, causing a small hiss to leave your lips. He climbed off the bed and went to dispose of the condom in the bathroom trash quickly. When he entered the room again, you were climbing under the covers, wrapping yourself in the blankets. You had a hazy look in your eyes and a dopey smile on your face.

“Was it everything you thought it would be?” JJ asked as he climbed under the covers beside you.

The two of you faced each other on the bed, heads nuzzled against the pillows. You hummed softly, eyes fluttering closed as exhaustion washed over you.

“Better,” you muttered in response, cracking your eyes open to peak at your best friend once again.

He was staring at you, soft smile adorning his lips as his eyes trailed over your face. He scooted closer to you and wound an arm around your waist. He pulled you against his chest and pressed a chaste kiss to the top of your head. His fingers trailed lazy patterns up and down your spine, lulling you into the best sleep you’d ever have.

“I love you,” JJ whispered, knowing you were deep in dreamland by now.

The blonde didn’t sleep, he just laid there and held you, replaying what just happened in his mind over and over again. He saw you in a different light; a light that he never wanted to burn out. Laying there holding you, butterflies fluttering happily in his stomach, all he could do was smile.

The two of you were definitely going to be having a long conversation on how to move forward when you woke up.

#jj maybank #jj obx #obx #outer banks #jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank obx #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x reader smut #jj x reader #jj x reader smut #jj outer banks #jj x y/n #jj maybank x y/n #jj smut #jj maybank smut #jj fluff #jj maybank fluff #do you trust me?#chyna writes

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

Note

Is there gonna be a part three of the body swap? I feel like Bucky should fuck them both. Like when y/n in Steve’s body and Steve in y/n’s body.

oh yes there is my dear anon, and you found my exact plan for it... read part 1 and part 2/the prequel first or this will make no sense! not that it ever will make any sense tbh...

“see how pretty you look riding my cock?” Bucky praised, but you weren’t sure if he meant you, since it was your body bouncing on his thighs, or if he meant Steve, since that was the mind behind the movement.

“you remember how it feels, don’t you?” he continued. “wish it was you in that pretty head so you could feel my cock stretching you out?”

“yes,” you answered tensely, desperate for relief, but Bucky had told you that you couldn’t come yet. you wanted so badly to stroke ‘your’ cock but feared Bucky’s retribution if you did.

Steve cried out when Bucky slammed in harder, making you smirk a little at the memory of how it felt to be in his situation.

“do I always sound like that?” you asked nervously, a little embarrassed at the way Steve sounded with your voice, your moans so much more dramatic and high-pitched than they sounded in your head.

“yep,” Bucky grinned. “but you’re a little better at keeping quiet than poor Stevie here. he’s not used to getting fucked... as far as I know.”

“n-no,” Steve mumbled, “never been... never been fucked before.”

“that’s a shame,” Bucky cooed, leaning in closer to whisper in your ear so Steve could hear him better. “cause I’m looking at your ass right now, and it deserves to be stuffed with cock.”

you felt self-conscious on behalf of Steve’s body, even though you’d ogled at him plenty of times yourself.

“wanna see how good you’d look getting fucked, Steve?”

“please don’t stop,” Steve answered.

“I won’t, baby, gonna come inside you first,” Bucky promised, “is that what you want?”

“yes, I’m so close,” Steve whimpered.

“I know, I can feel this pretty little cunt you’ve got squeezin’ me,” Bucky purred, shooting you a look as he said it. “keep doin’ that and I’ll fill you up real good.”

“please-- please, I’m gonna come,” Steve sighed.

“go ahead, baby,” Bucky groaned, and you saw the way his back arched and knew exactly what it meant. you could remember so clearly how it felt to come around Bucky’s cock, wishing it was you in your body like it should be. “yeah, there you go,” Bucky encouraged as Steve bit down on his lip-- your lip-- to suppress a scream.

Bucky only went harder on him, thrusting faster and deeper to chase his own release while suspending your body at the height of pleasure.

Steve’s eyes went wide as Bucky began to growl in that way he did when he was coming-- you were glad to be able to hear it for once without the distraction of your own afterglow (since he always made sure you came first).

“oh my god,” Steve gasped, “oh my god-- I can feel it, I can feel you c-coming in me...”

you laughed a little. “it’s weird right?” Steve nodded. “but good?”

“so good,” he agreed with a little groan, which turned into a yelp as Bucky yanked his head up by your hair.

“you like being full of my come?” he interrogated.

“yes,” Steve whined, “it’s... it’s strange. but I like it.”

“do you think it’s her body that likes it? or your brain?” Bucky asked, his cocky tone making it clear he already knew the answer.

“b-both,” Steve admitted, voice wavering with a hint of shame.

“well, we know her brain likes it,” Bucky smirked, “but let’s see how your body reacts, shall we?”

before you could even process that, he shot you a cold glare and instructed: “bend over.”

and you did.

“looks like my good girl’s still in there,” Bucky laughed as he pulled out of Steve and turned his attention to you.

he ran his hands over your back as he stepped behind you, your own face slack where Steve had collapsed onto the bed that you were now bent over.

Bucky felt your hesitance when his fingers started to circle your hole, but his other hand stroking your back helped soothe you slightly.

“Steve,” you whispered, “have you ever had anything inside you before?”

you groaned a little when he shook his head.

“fuck, this is gonna be a lot of work,” you pouted, but Bucky just chuckled gently and pushed one thing finger into you.

it did feel different with Steve’s body compared to yours, but at least you knew how to breathe and relax yourself to make it easier. he moved it slowly, thrusting and twisting gently with the pace of your breaths, before adding a second.

that one made your toes curl a little. “Bucky,” you whimpered, “there’s no way your cock’s gonna fit...”

“aw honey, it’s all in the mind and you’ve had me up your ass before, this’ll be a breeze for you,” he dismissed quickly. “plus, you’ve got this little extra bonus riiiiight here--”

he grinned and you gasped when his fingers curled into your prostate.

“fuck,” you groaned, “fuck!”

“never heard Steve swear so much,” Bucky grinned. “feels good?”

you nodded, but good didn’t nearly begin to describe it. you couldn’t describe it.

“f-fuck, Bucky,” you whimpered.

“ah ah,” he tutted with prideful disapproval, “no coming yet, baby. not until I’m inside you.”

two fingers were quickly joined by a third as you clutched at the sheets beneath you, feeling Steve’s cock flex each time Bucky brushed over that spot inside you.

Bucky had you stretched so well that his cock didn’t hurt until he was halfway in-- but then it was like he got thicker somehow, wider, filling you deeper than you were ready for.

“slow down... please...” you moaned breathlessly, and he did, though he didn’t stop entirely. instead you felt his strong hands massaging your ass which was calming and distracted you from the pain.

another distraction from the pain-- steve suddenly leaning forward and capturing your-- his?-- lips in a kiss, relaxed yet needy.

you kissed him back eagerly, feeling your own fingers sliding around the back of your neck and wishing they were thick and strong like his usual fingers.

“what was that for?” you asked when he pulled away.

“you just look pretty like this,” he explained.

“don’t you mean you look pretty?” Bucky corrected.

“no, I can tell it’s her,” Steve replied softly. you kissed him again, a little more desperate than before, and Bucky took the opportunity to slam the rest of his cock into you. it made you cry out into Steve’s mouth.

“doin’ so good for me,” Bucky praised. “I know it hurts, honey, but it feels good too, doesn’t it?”

“feels s-so good,” you answered, mumbling against Steve’s lips. your whole body shivered when he started to thrust into you slowly, each stroke of him perfectly rubbing against that swollen, delicate spot inside you.

“think you can come just from this? just from me fucking you?” he asked proudly.

“maybe? j-just touch my cock, please,” you sighed.

“nah, I think I’ll have Stevie do that for me,” Bucky decided. but it was technically your slenderer hand that reached under and wrapped around his cock, pumping the shaft which was already wet from your own precum leaking out of the reddened tip.

you were lucky it was Steve steering that hand-- of course he would know exactly what spots to rub and stroke on his own body. it was so good you started to buck into his touch, making Bucky chuckle a little.

“aw baby, can’t help yourself can you?” he taunted. “go ahead and fuck yourself back onto my cock, sweetheart, show me how bad you want it.”

and so there you were, on your knees pushing back against Bucky who stood behind you with a dark grin on his lips, while your own body laid beneath you, kissing you and stroking your cock languidly.

it was all pretty overwhelming, to say the least. it obviously didn’t take much of that to make the coil in your gut snap, your cock flexing and pumping as stripes of hot cum painted Steve’s hand and the bed beneath you. it was different from coming with... with your normal internal hardware. less intense, in a way, but instead of one big wave it was like little ones, and it left you breathless and whining and blinking wildly.

except, when you blinked, you weren’t looking down at your own face all of a sudden. you were looking up at Steve’s.

“Steve,” you whispered against his lips, cradling his face in your hands-- YOUR hands, fucking FINALLY.

he whispered your name back to you, and you smiled widely.

“everything back to normal?” Bucky asked as he realized what had happened.

“not everything,” Steve frowned, “your cock is still in my ass.”

“you’re not gonna make me stop when I haven’t come yet, are you? are you really that selfish?” Bucky pouted.

“I’m selfish alright,” Steve asked, “but don’t stop. I wanna come again.”

Bucky smiled devilishly. “that’s the spirit!”

#stucky x reader #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes

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shewrites02 · 3 years ago

Text

Wounded |Shikamaru x Reader|

Summary: The reader is wounded while on a mission, This leads to a rift in their relationship

Word count: 2.2k

A/N: I'm new to putting Naruto fanfics on my Account. If you have an suggestions or requests I'm open to all of them. Thank you so much.

fuck! This was your ass when you got home, and you knew it. You pleaded to Lady Tsunade to send you on this mission, short of getting on your hands and knees you said and did anything in hopes of persuading her to say yes. Eventually she caved. Knowing very few things got you this emotional she couldn't bring herself to say no even if she had felt you weren't ready. Plus she knew even if she declined you would devise a scheme to end up there anyway, and she wasn't wrong. You had a plan a, b, and c just incase she was adamant in her refusal.

What you didn't have a plan for was explaining to Shikamaru what you were about to do. Go on a S ranked mission despite just clearing your Chunin examinations. When word finally did get back to him, he was furious! that same morning he marched into the Hokage's office and demanded answers.

"I understand you are angry, but I will not explain myself to the likes of you! You want an explanation you speak to your girlfriend!" She snapped at him.

He knew better than to argue further, to expose himself and allow himself to be vulnerable and open with his concerns even just in front of the Hokage. He also knew she was right, it wasn't really her he was angry at.

When the door swung open and slammed against the wall of yall's shared living space you knew who it was, and what was coming.

"Do you want to get yourself killed?!" Shikamaru belted out down the corridor of the small two bedroom apartment. When you did not respond he barged into the master bedroom forcing your attention.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" He continued "You must be invincible, death must not be a concern of yours. No your just that fucking strong despite needing three attempts to pass your Chunin exams."

His words stung, even brought tears to your eyes. You tried to remind yourself that they didn't come from a place of malice, but of concern. That did not stop them from hurting, it did not stop them from making you feel small, and weak.

"I need to do this!" You croaked stifling tears that threatened to fall. Your voice trying it's hardest to be strong.

"EVEN IF IT KILLS YOU?!" Shikamaru quickly rebutted.

you took a deep breath before calmly responding, as if to accept the words as they fell out of your mouth.

"Even if it kills me."

The way Shikamaru's eyes fell you could've sworn you'd thrown a kunai straight through his heart. He was gutted, almost to the extent of feeling betrayed.

"Even if that means leaving me here alone."

You could hear the tears trembling in his throat but not a single one fell. He simply turned and walked out the apartment. This was two days before you were supposed to leave, and was the last direct conversation you had with him before you're departure.

While on the journey Kakashi told you two things. One that he had promised Shikamaru that you'd return to the village even if it meant he did not and secondly that Shikamaru had asked him to give you note.

Inside was a detailed apology for suggesting that you were weak or incompetent. Shikamaru said he didn't want you leaving the village believing he had no faith in you or your abilities. Instead he outlined his fears for you. That you weren't ready physically or emotionally to tackle a mission such as this one, that the cost of this mission may have a higher price than you bargained for. Most importantly that you would never come back. He emphasized how much he loved you but was sure to let it be known how angry he was at you. Your complete disregard for his feelings and concern hurt him. He wrote of how unsure it was that he would be there when you returned. He wasn't sure if his methodical mind could forgive such reckless behavior.

That's all you could think of as you laid motionless on the cold forest floor, how correct Shikamaru was. The mission was a success but now you weren't even sure you'd be around to celebrate the victory that seemed to be worth your life just a week ago. In this moment your were heartbroken, distraught, most of all guilty.

The last memory the love of your life would have of you is you telling him that completing some personal vendetta was worth giving up spending the rest of yall's lives together. This was a risk you didn't have to take, a mission you weren't assigned to but you looked Shikamaru in his eyes and told him it was more important than him. And look at you now, fulfilling the very prophecy he feared you would. He would never forgive you for this.

The warm sensation of your blood coating the back of your hands, drew you out of your thoughts. The voices of Sakura and Kakashi were a faint whisper to you, despite the fact they were shouting at each other. You could make out Kakashi telling her to hurry and patch your wounds. He knew it would be a while before the medical core could make it all the way out here, and he wasn't sure you had that much time. He was hoping if Sakura could just stop the bleeding, he could carry you to the village himself. If she could only stabilize you he could do the rest.

"Kashi." You grunted out, twitching your fingers till they meet his hands. His panicked eyes looked over at you and softened some. He was trying hard not to let on how worried he truly was, but the usually stoic ninja, could not handle the thought of breaking his promise.

"Please... tell Shikamaru I'm sorry. Tell him he was right, he'll like that." A pained laugh fumbled from your lips, along with a weak smile.

"Tell him yourself."

You went to protest but felt every bit of chakra drain for your body. Kakashi and Sakura slowly began to fade until everything went black.

When you awoke the agonizingly bright lights along with the low hums of all the equipment were a clear indication of where exactly you are, The Leaf Village hospital.

"And she lives." Kakashi announced. A copy of make out tactics in hand, although his masks was up you felt he had a small smile plastered on his face. As you observed his clean, tidy appearance it was clear you had been here longer than it seemed.

"How long have I been here?"

"A week!" Lady Tsunade scolded her arms folded against her chest as she stormed in Sakura trailing behind her. "Just as I said You nearly got yourself killed out there!"

"But I didn't." You rebutted offering a meek smile. Despite Kakashi and Sakura's giggles Lady Tsunade was not amused.

While you scanned the crowded room, you couldn't help but notice Shikamaru was nowhere to be found. You knew he would be angry with you, but so angry he wouldn't even check up on you. Had you really spent a week in the hospital without a single visit from him? was it true you had survive this mission but your relationship had not? The eerie feeling was too strong to ignore, you couldn't even focus on Lady Tsunade chastising you.

"He's come by everyday!" Sakura interrupted pointing over to a bouquet of Jasmines and Roses, Ino no doubt picked for him.

"He.. didn't want to be here when you woke up." Kakashi confessed.

Sakura elbowed him, right in the middle of his ribs causing him to wince in pain. He nurtured his side shuffling his feet slowly away from her. Clearly he wasn't supposed to share that part. But you appreciated Kakashi's honesty, even if it did break your heart.

"I'll be walking you home." he continued throwing the backpack that you carried everywhere with you over your shoulder.

"Remember, you're on bed rest as soon as you make it home. If I even hear that you've be training so help me God!" Lady Tsunade narrowed her eyes to further emphasize her point. Message received loud and clear.

As you and Kakashi strolled through the village neither of you spoke. You were far to focused on what you might find when you returned home, while he just enjoyed the silence. He feared you might request his input with the situation you and Shikamaru had going on. He was sure all he would do is make you feel worse. The copy ninja was a man of few words, and none of them were inherently comforting.

Once yall approached the front door, you noticed the house completely dark, not even the shine of a table lamp. This was peculiar, your home was usually fully lit at this hour. Shikamaru would usually be home to eat lunch or at the very least find some peace away from his comrades to work out a strategy for a new mission he was assigned. No matter what the reason... he was always here and the house was always vibrant. This dark ominous empty home was not one you knew.

You tried to tell Kakashi that you were more than capable of carrying your bookbag in, but he insisted. You think he's just afraid if word gets back to the Fifth Hokage you exerted any type of unnecessary energy the blame would fall on him. But when the two of you walked across the threshold yall immediately stopped.

Shikamaru was home, sitting completely in the dark staring at the ceiling. The sound of the door opening not even making him move an inch.

"I'll, just leave this here." Kakashi mumbled, placing your bag beside you and walking out closing the door behind him.

Shikamaru still didn't move, not a glance your way, not a word spoken. Absolutely still and absolutely silent. You wanted to jump on him, kiss him all over, tell him just how wrong you were. Tell him that with what you thoughts were your last breaths the only person you wanted to talk to was him. But you didn't, your guilt weighed so heavy on your chest it felt as if you couldn't speak.

You walked over sitting on the couch next to him, your hand meet his cheek and Shikamaru flinched making you quickly draw your hand back. It was as if he had just realized you were even there. Your eyes quickly examined every contour and mark on your boyfriends face. His flushed cheeks, the slightly puffy eyes that gleamed with a sutble red tinge. Could it be that your stoic aloof boyfriend had been sitting here crying all day? The sight shattered your heart into a million pieces. How could you do this to him? How could you be so selfish?

You reached out for his hand grasping it firmly almost as if you didn't grab him now he would be gone forever. In spite of not even being able to look at you Shikamaru held your hand just as tight.

"Shikam-"

"Do you know how mad I am at you?" he interrupted. "Lady Tsunade had to put you in a medically induced coma for a week... A FUCKING WEEK Y/N!"

"I'm sorry you were right. you were right, baby you were right." You cried tears streaming your face. "I'm sorry."

You didn't wanna argue, you had no fight left in you. For God's sake you just wanted the man you loved to look you in your eyes. Tell you how much he missed you, that he was worried about you, and he's still in love with you. That he'll always be in love with you. But he was as cold as ever, he refused to cast his gaze upon you. instead his eyes continue to linger at the ceiling.

Shikamaru wanted to stay angry, as glad as he was to have you alive here with him he still wanted to punish you. He wanted you to hurt just like he did when he had to watch Kakashi carry you unconscious through the front gates, or when Lady Tsunade told him your injuries were to extensive to wake you up after surgery. or maybe when you looked him in his eyes and proclaimed how little your life was worth in comparison to a mission you weren't even officially assigned. Shikamaru wanted you to feel a fraction of what he has the past two weeks.

"Shikamaru... baby. Please, look at me." You begged him reaching for his face again. This time you forced his eyes to meet yours.

As angry as he was, when Shikamaru looked into your tear filled eyes he melted. After a week of watching you lay basically lifeless in a hospital bed, seeing that glimmer of life in your eyes nothing seemed to matter anymore.

"Baby, I'm so sorr-"

Shikamaru didn't let you finish your sentence, he crashed his lips into yours for a sloppy passionate kiss. He pulled you onto his lap never breaking away from you. His hands held your waist tight, you were sure he would leave marks, but the thought of letting you go was almost traumatizing for him. In his arms, he knew you were safe that you wouldn't run off again.

"I was so worried about you." He mumbled against yours lips, light gasp for air in-between his words. "I love you so much y/n... you can't die on me."

#naruto #shikamaru nara #shikamaru x reader #shikamaru #shikamaru x you #shikamaru x y/n #shikamaru fanart #shikamaru imagine #kakashi hakate #naruto art #naruto shippuden #fanfic

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shslfanficreader · 4 years ago

Text

Submissive Rantaro x afab Reader

NS//FW Alphabet

Requests are open!

Word Count: 3000+

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Rantaro would want to take care of you so bad, but at the same time he’s a babey and would also love for you to take care of him.

If he’s taking care of you he’d clean you up, maybe even lick you clean before getting a washcloth and wiping you over, and then he’d get water for both of you.

If you’re taking care of him he’d be so out of it and relaxed, just letting you do what you need and watching while you did all of it. He might whine as you wipe him over if he’s really sensitive or overstimulated, and it would be adorable. He’d thank you for every little thing and just act so in love in general.

Either way, he will want cuddles and will be so happy and relaxed if you give them to him. He’d love to rest his head on your chest or be the little spoon.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves your thighs so much, loves to kiss and bite at them, but loves having them wrapped around his head even more.

He would be enthralled with your body so much, and he’d love it no matter what size or shape you are, and if you were insecure he’d make sure to show that he loves you and what you look like no matter what.

He likes his hands. They’ve always been useful to him on his adventures and he’s found that they’re even more useful at pleasuring you. The best thing about them is that he can feel you all over with them, he just glides his hands over your skin and grasps you and it’s all so amazing. You taking his hand and putting his fingers in your mouth makes him so turned on and he’d be in awe of you. Not to mention he can rub at your clit, feel how wet you are and feel you clench and your muscles spasm when he crooks them inside of you.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He 100% has a breeding kink. Not as in “you must be pregnant and have my children” type of kink, but he just. Loves the concept. There’s some risk in it but you’re always careful, and he loves coming in you, marking you as his from the inside out. And he can’t help but want to watch it leak out of you, maybe even eat it out of you. He loves when you ask him to come inside of you, and it’s not like he can say no to you anyway. That being said, you want him to use a condom? That’s not an issue at all!

He’d also love to cum on you. Anywhere. Your tummy, back, ass, boobs, face, even over your pussy. Anywhere you’ll let him. He just thinks it looks so pretty.

Oh, and if you're blowing him and you swallow? Holy fuccccck.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

If he’s going to be away from you for a long period of time, say on an adventure of something, he might steal a pair of your underwear to take with him so he can think about you even more when he’s having “alone time.”

He’d whine and moan so prettily as he holds them and jerks himself off, maybe even accidentally coming on them, and he feels so guilty about it, so dirty, but he just wants you so bad.

He’d wash them a couple of times and try to sneakily place them back in your drawer, hoping you didn’t notice.

He accidentally lost a pair once too. He never told you. He hoped you just thought they’d been misplaced.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Rantaro had experience, but not a massive amount. Like, he knew what he was doing, but he was also always learning and trying new things, and that was definitely not a bad thing in his book.

He looks much more like a playboy than he actually is.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Missionary and riding. Yes.

Missionary because he can look at you and put his face right next to yours, have his ear close to your lips and listen to you moan for him. Missionary is his favourite position if you’re pegging him too.

He likes riding because you can set the pace and take control, use him how you want to. The view is a nice added bonus.

He’s a fan of any position that gets your thighs wrapped around his head too.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

He’s very sweet in the moment, probably on the more serious side, but not against being goofy and having fun with you. When he’s feeling subby he usually just feels like being intimate with you and is a bit more romantic than normal. He’s just a needy boy.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

I’m not going to say whether I think it’s green or not, okay? (But probably, yeah.)

But!

He keeps things relatively natural. He doesn’t shave or anything like that, but he might trim a bit to keep things neat.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Oh, sub Rantaro is most definitely romantic. He likes to be sweet towards you and keep things nice and intimate. He definitely feels a lot more like you’re making love instead of fucking when he’s submitting to you sometimes.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Sometimes when you’re not around and he really needs you he’ll hump and rub against your pillow until he comes. He feels bad about it after. He always washes it before you need to use it again and usually pretends he spilled something on it. Hmmm, something…

He’s really sensitive on the underside of the head of his dick, so he pays special attention to that area when he jacks off, twisting his wrist as it reaches his tip with each stroke.

He also likes fucking himself, with his fingers and with toys, but he much prefers it when you do it. When he fingers himself he likes crooking his fingers and massaging his prostate. Pre-cum leach’s out of his cock almost the entire time he does it, it feels so good.

He likes fleshlights, dildos, butt plugs, vibrators, all that good stuff, but one toy he didn’t think he’d like as much as he does is wand vibrators. Like. Good god. That sensitive spot on the underside of his tip? Yeah, he just holds a wand vibrator there and it’s so good and makes him come so hard and so fast that it drives him crazy.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Bondage, praise, overstimulation, and edging, all the way.

He loves both tying you up and being tied up, but has a slight preference for being tied up when he’s feeling submissive. You being in control is so hot to him, and if he’s tied up you can do whatever you want. He’d never admit it but he loves it when you tease him when he’s bound. It just makes everything feel so much more intense. He loves being teased by having your fingers inside him, his cock in your mouth, a toy against or inside him, and especially by you fucking yourself onto him but just not giving him quite enough. He sometimes likes to be blindfolded too.

Does he like praising you or being praised himself more? The world may never know.

He wants to do everything he possibly can to make you feel good and loved, but tell him he’s doing good and he’s gone.

When it comes to you he much prefers overstimulation than edging. He wants to pleasure you over and over until you can’t take anymore, and then he’ll still keep going if you’ll let him.

He loves both overstim and edging when it comes to himself. He'll get so overwhelmed if you overstimulate him, sometimes he'd start crying, not because he wanted you to stop or it hurt, but because it was just so much, his face would be flushed red and wet with tears and sweat. He'd look like a wreck in the best way.

When you edge him he begs a lot. His pleas of "please, please, please, I need it," would be so pretty and he would buck his hips up trying to get any friction and stimulation. He loves being edged and teased but he'll get desperate and needy faster than he likes. He wants to hold out and be good for you but once he's been edged a few times he just feels like he needs to come, so he can't help but beg.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

The best place is always a bed. You have privacy, can lock the doors, feel safe, and have everything you could possibly need.

But Rantaro does love sex in a lot of places. He loves sex on the couch, especially when you ride him, and in the shower or up against a wall. Anywhere you need him, he'll be there.

He isn't the biggest fan of public sex, just because trying to hide can be a bit of an inconvenience. Not that the risk isn't hot. But there's also still like. The actual risk aspect, and he'd rather not get arrested. He's more inclined to want public sex if he's in a more neutral or dominant mood. There's something about being submissive that makes him want to be alone, in the privacy of his own home, secure.

He doesn't mind car sex, as long as it isn't like, on a freeway or anywhere crowded. He actually loves when you're together and suddenly you want to pull over because you want him and you just can't wait.

One place he's learned to love having sex is in tents. He has to stay in tents a lot when he's adventuring, so they've become a sort of second home to him. It gives the illusion of privacy being alone and intimate and still feels comfortable and homey but there's still a little bit of risk when it comes to getting caught because tents don't have locks or soundproofing. He loves having you alone with him in a tent.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Oh, the most mundane things turn him on. You could be reaching up and your shirt could ride up, or you could compliment him and it would go straight to his pants.

And you wearing his clothes? No matter how poorly they fit, you're wearing. His. Clothes. How was the poor boy expected to see that and go on unaffected?

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Rantaro would be down to try most things, but wouldn't be into hurting you or having you hurt him too much. Like, spanking? Fine! Biting? Yes, please! Scratches and bruises? God, they look so pretty. But he'd never want to do something too intense or violent. He wanted to turn pain to pleasure, not seriously injure you for the sake of sex.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Hoo, boy, Rantaro loves getting oral. He loves having your mouth on his cock or your tongue in his ass. You look so pretty and feel so good with your mouth around him, and when you eat him out he's putty in your hands. He loves that you feel safe enough with him to do something considered so dirty.

But what he loves even more is giving you oral.

This boy is a giver, especially when he feels submissive. He wants to make you feel as good as possible, and he has a wicked mouth that he knows how to use. He licks around and into you but makes sure to suck at and play with your clit more so, because that’s when your hips buck into his mouth and your hands find his hair.

He loves eating ass. This is a fact. He loves feeling your muscle contract around his tongue, and he loves being used in any dirty way you want.

What better way to submit to someone than to have them ride your face?

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Rantaro prefers being slow when he's subby and emotional, because in that case he wants to be intimate with you, and he likes being slow and sensual for that type of thing. Of course, the closer either of you get to coming the faster and harder he'll go.

But when he's feeling subby purely for the sake of submitting? Ride that boy fast and rough until he cries. Better yet, order him to fuck you hard until you come. If he comes before you? Oh well...

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He prefers sex, especially if he's subbing. It's hard for him to deal with being in that headspace for a quick fuck, for you to just go about your days after. No, he wants to take his time with you.

That being said, if you're both in the mood and don't have much time. A quickie's better than nothing. Hell, it's still a magical experience, he'd just like that magic to last a little longer.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Oh yeah, Rantaro is absolutely game to experiment and take risks. He’ll try most things, but most definitely has hard limits that he doesn’t want to cross.

Let’s just say road head sounds like a great idea until you come and almost crash into a pole with your pants down.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

It depends. If you’re overstimming him every round, then he can’t go for as many. It gets really overwhelming for him.

Oh, he can last, but not if you’re purposefully doing everything you can to make him come fast and over and over.

If he’s setting the pace and fucking you though, he can keep going for a long time. Of course, if you want him to go harder, faster, he will, but he might come a bit faster too, as anyone would.

But even if he’s overstimulated and can’t take any more that doesn’t mean his mouth and hands don’t still work, and that boy will do whatever you need until you’re satisfied. Say you have trouble coming from penetration, or coming in general. He will do everything in his power to get you there. If you can’t, he’ll be disappointed, but only because he thinks you deserve all the pleasure he can give you.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He most definitely owns toys, both for himself and for you.

He likes using them on himself when he’s all alone and when he’s with you. If you want him to put on a show, of course he will. If you’re the one to use the toys on him it always feels so much more intense for him, probably because he’s not expecting what you do and just because it’s you in general.

He likes watching you use toys on yourself too, or using them on you himself. One of his favourite things to do is to fuck you with a vibrator whilst he sucks on your clit.

He owns both the basics and a few other bits and pieces that don’t get used as often but are still a lot of fun.

A few of the things he has are vibrators and dildos and butt plugs of all different sizes and colours, even a fleshlight. He has some rope and handcuffs and a paddle too.

A couple of his favourites are a prostate massager and a remote control vibrator that was a lot of fun if not a little bit embarrassing.

He also just had. So much lube. It’s everywhere. In the bedroom, the bathroom, his car, his travel bags, your car, the living room, even the kitchen. Who keeps lube in the kitchen? It’s bound to lead to something disastrous some day.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

When he’s feeling submissive he doesn’t tease as much as usual. Hell, he doesn’t really tease at all, he wants to be a good boy and do everything you could possibly want. He’s a service sub.

He loves being teased himself though. Make him use that pretty voice to beg you to give him “just a little more please.”

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He’s not overly loud but he does whine and moan a lot. He whimpers and begs a lot too, especially when you edge him.

He talks a lot too, but not necessarily dirty talk. It’s more like he doesn’t even know he’s speaking and incoherent babbling starts coming out of his mouth, but you can always hear a lot of things like “you feel so good,” “please,” and “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Two words: morning sex. Just imagine it. Rantaro wakes up first. He cuddles into you and he’s already half hard from a dream he was having. He still feels sleep soft and he has an insane case of bed head. He’s snuggled up to your back and slowly starts to grind up against you, he knows you wouldn’t mind. Once you wake up he doesn’t stop. As he gets closer he asks if he can fuck you. If you let him he’ll gently slide inside of you and fuck you slow and deep until he’s moaning and groaning at your ear.

If you say no, he’ll ask if he can fuck your thighs. He’d thrust back and forth, loving the pressure and wrapping a hand around you and holding on to your tummy or rubbing your clit, until he comes in between your legs and you come too, if you’ll let him make you.

If you say no to that too, he’ll take care of himself, fucking up into his own hand until he comes over his tummy.

He also loves waking you up by eating you out. His head under the covers, mouth gliding over and sucking on you. He loves when you wake up and you finally put your hands in his hair.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

He’s about average girth and slightly above average in length. Honestly, he has such a nice cock, and he definitely knows how to use it. It isn’t massive, which he actually likes. He wouldn’t want to hurt you or intimidate you too much.

His cock always turns a pretty red when he’s close, and he doesn’t really like that, but the colour does look so pretty when it’s against your skin.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

His sex drive in general is a bit higher than average. When he’s submissive he always wants sex more because it’s a way for him to let go and feel intimate with you. You can tell he wants sex if he wants to cuddle and he puts his head in the crook of your neck to nuzzle there and moans fall from his lips. He also pushes his body against yours and just wants to be as close to you as possible.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He doesn’t always fall asleep, sometimes he’s content to just lay with you and maybe watch some tv. If he does fall asleep, it’s always after you’re both done with your aftercare and he knows you’ve been well taken care of.

Tags: @mius-imagination

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