#Ice is type 1 obviously | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

glossysoap · 11 months ago

Text

unknown number ; keegan. 1 of 3.

warnings/tags: stalker keegan, retired keegan, stalking, perv keegan, fantasies, fem! reader, afab reader, choking, degradation, blowjob, possessive, marking kink, free use, mating press, panty sniffing, hidden cameras, photographing w/o consent, lemme know if i missed anything.

PLEASE READ. regular italics are flashbacks. bolded italics are fantasies that take place during flashbacks.

warnings are marked above. it is your responsibility, and your responsibility alone, to judge whether you want to read this or not. if you click the read more link, you’re responsible for any consequences of reading this dark material. do not try to make yourself the victim when you chose to read it.

this may be ooc in the sense that keegan wouldn’t be a stalker. he’s a fictional character, it’s not the end of the world for him to be ‘mischaracterized’, especially when this is an au. again, by clicking on read more you are making the choice to consume the content. again, do not try to make yourself the victim when you chose to read it.

playlist: runrunrun - dutch melrose

word count: at least 8k

🏷️: @divine--serenity @blissful-bunny @damnirina @wrathofcats @claymorexpunisher @krakenbabe @ghastlybirdie @luvecarson @mandalover2023 @undeadsthings @kiroshang @vgilantee @itzzjxlyn @msdevil333 (if ur name is struck out, tumblr won’t let me tag)

You never thought a simple ding from your phone would make your stomach drop, let alone send you into an anxious spiral. Feeling your heart threaten to pound out of your rib cage, and hearing the thump thump of blood rushing in your ears.

And yet, here you were. Practically jumping out of your skin from it.

All because you knew what it meant; another cryptic text from yet another unknown number.

No matter how many times you blocked one number, in its place would appear another number texting you the next day. Rinse and repeat.

Every text made your eyes widen as you stared at your phone screen, then gulping as you took a peek at your surroundings. The texts always included some type of detail that no one could know unless they were watching you at that exact moment you receive the texts.

The texts would reference your clothes or the way you were wearing your hair. Sometimes the texts would reference what you were eating or drinking — naming the exact latte that was in your left hand while your phone was being held in your shaky right hand.

You never answered them, obviously. You had that much sense.

No matter how easily you could just block and swipe the messages away, you couldn’t forget them that easily. The sinking feeling stayed with you the entire day, weighing heavy in your stomach like lead.

Even when you weren’t getting texts, that feeling remained. That feeling of being frozen with fear, looking over your shoulder with every step.

Your whole body felt like you were doused with ice water, shivering as if you were in the freezing cold but not actually feeling that temperature. The shakiness in your hands, your fingers quivering. Your teeth would chatter, no matter how much you tried to clench your jaw. Your legs felt unstable, like they were made of jello and might collapse under you at any moment.

That feeling would start the very second you hear that ding, and it wouldn’t end until you were in a deep sleep that night. Sometimes it wouldn’t even end then.

It all started about three months ago, in the peak of Autumn. When the weather was biting cold and you shivered from the harsh temperatures, instead of anxiety or paranoia.

The first time you received a text was on a Friday evening, right after you had gotten off work.

The cold air of the parking garage made you wrap your coat tighter, pulling the wool fabric flush against your stomach. You huffed as a shiver ran through your body, your breath visible in the air in front of you. Teeth chattering as you reached a mitten clad hand to press the elevator button labeled for the first floor, where you had parked your car in the morning.

Once you pressed that button, the elevator doors slid shut. You leaned against the elevator wall and gripped the metal rail — instinctually preparing for the brief dizziness that always comes with the sudden drop of the elevator.

You cringe and squeeze your eyes shut as you feel the elevator drop for a few moments, before slowing at the last few seconds and coming to a stop. You open your eyes with a sigh before pushing away from the wall, pocketing your hands in your coat as you waited for the elevator doors to open.

Once the doors opened, you fished your car keys out of your pocket and started walking in the direction of your car. It wasn’t parked very far from the elevator, as you kept this situation in mind when you parked this morning.

The parking garage was empty except for you, as far as you could see. Your steps echoed against the concrete walls. White strip lights flickered on the ceiling, the yellow tinged light poorly illuminating the parking structure as you made your way through the dark of night.

Your shoes scraped against the concrete as you walked, passing many cars but keeping an eye on your car. You could just feel the stress of the hard work day melting away by looking at your car, because it meant you were one step closer to being home — where you could shed your scrubs and take a nice bath, before curling up with a hot bowl of soup.

As you approach your car, your lips curl up in a grin at the thought. After a long day of dealing with an onslaught of complaining customers, ones who had a nasty habit of demanding a name brand prescription instead of a generic prescription, your head was pounding. All you wanted right now was some peace and quiet. You yearned to bundle up in blankets and warm yourself up with soup and hot chocolate.

With a press of a button on your car keys, you unlocked your car. The headlights blinked twice before staying on, the bright light hitting the concrete ahead of it. You reached for your car door handle and pulled it open, ducking down before sitting in the drivers seat.

Your teeth chatter as you sit in the cold drivers seat, pulling your coat closer to you again.

You took a moment to tilt your head back against the head rest, closing your eyes and bringing your hands up to massage your face. Groaning as you rub your eyelids, trying to rid the fatigue from your heavy eyes.

You were yanked from your thoughts when you heard a ding from your phone that was sitting in your lap. Your phone screen lit up with a notification, the bright light illuminating the dark of your car. Your brows furrowed as you look down at your phone, seeing that the notification was from a text message. You picked it up from your lap before swiping up to unlock it, and pressing the green message bar.

You wait a moment for the text to appear. Only for your brows to knit together once more as you stare down at your phone. Your brows furrow at the cryptic message sent from an unknown number.

You really shouldn’t sit in your car with the doors unlocked.

You felt your blood run cold and chills prick down your spine as your eyes skimmed the text over and over. You read it over and over, convinced that the letters would disappear from your phone altogether.

But the ominous text remained, no matter how many times you blinked or rubbed your eyes furiously. The words were almost burned into your brain, seared into your eyelids.

Your body moved on autopilot from that point forward.

You couldn’t lock your car doors fast enough before shoving the phone in the cup holder next to you. Then you practically punched the ‘start engine’ button as you stepped hard on the break, hearing the engine roar to life.

You could still hear your heart pound in your ears over the running engine as you sped out of the parking garage.

You went to bed without eating that night. You weren’t hungry anymore.

That number was the first among many of unknown numbers blocked.

After that, you tried to brush it off. You tried to forget it ever happened, forget that someone was there watching you in that parking garage, seeing you sit in your car. But you couldn’t shake it. You couldn’t shake that damn text message or that string of numbers that it was sent from.

The text was still burned into your brain, even as days passed.

You thought about it any time you picked up your car keys, feeling a chill run down your spine as you thought about that night.

You thought about it whenever you got into your car, especially when you were about to drive to and from work. A sense of dread would fill your stomach as you thought about what happened the last time you got in your car.

Finally, you thought about it whenever you got a notification on your phone. The second you heard a ding or a chime, your mind would be sent right back to that cold night in the parking garage.

The second text you got was three days after the parking garage.

It was the following Monday. You were wearing the same coat you wore in the parking garage, cursing yourself for not owning multiple coats, as it served as another reminder for that night. The noise of holiday music and chattering customers flooded your ears as you stood in line at your usual coffee spot.

‘Come on, come on…,’ You thought to yourself, practically crawling out of your skin with nerves. Ever since that night in the parking garage, something about being stuck in one place always made you very jittery. You felt like a doe stuck in a forest, about to be ensnared in a predators trap.

You felt so on edge ever since then. Always keeping an eye on your phone as if at any minute another text would pop up on your phone screen, labeled ‘unknown number’. You were afraid that you would get yet another text reciting some personal detail about you, one that they would only know if they were watching you at that exact moment.

Even as you were bundled up inside the coffee shop with your scrub shirt and thick sweater, you found yourself shivering at the memory of someone watching you as you sat in your car that night.

You tapped your foot as you waited for the line to move, listening to the woman in front of you drone on and on about her order being done wrong. It wasn’t lost on you that she was the one who ordered it wrong, and yet it was still somehow the baristas fault for not being able to read her mind and know what she actually meant.

You rolled your eyes because if that was her biggest problem, she had it pretty good. She didn’t have that itch in the back of her mind, telling her to look over her shoulder every five seconds. She didn’t have to worry about someone watching her every move, texting her things that they couldn’t possibly know.

“I did ask for a bigger size!” She barked, making you heave a sigh in annoyance — because she definitely did not ask for the bigger size of whatever coffee she wanted.

But of course, to shut the lady up and move the line along, the barista would be stuck with nodding, apologizing and ‘fixing’ her coffee. All for free.

It’s exactly what you would have to do at your own job. You would be stuck with placating customers who couldn’t admit when they made a mistake, putting up with their attitude and getting burnt out in the process.

Though after the incident in the parking garage, the antics of annoying customers started becoming the least of your worries. You would gladly take being yelled at by some high strung customers instead of jumping out of your skin when you heard a ringtone.

You sighed when the customer was finally done, knowing that your lunch break was dwindling by the minute.

You told them your coffee order and fished out your credit card before swiping it on the card reader.

When you caught a glimpse at the time on your watch, a glaring reminder that your break was ending soon, you waved away the baristas offer for a receipt with a polite smile.

Then you wasted no time in leaving the line and waiting for your name to be called at the end of the counter.

The minute you were waiting at the counter felt like five, with how much you kept glancing at your watch and looking over your shoulder. Your foot tapped away as you waited for the barista to finish brewing your coffee, your eyes skimming the crowd of customers around you.

You weren’t looking for anything specific, or more aptly, anyone specific. But something just felt… off.

When you heard your name being called by the barista, you pulled yourself out of your funk and turned back to see them holding out your order with a polite smile.

“Thanks, have a good one.” You took your coffee from their outstretched hand with a grin before turning to leave the coffee shop.

Your legs moved on autopilot as you almost jogged to the exit, desperate to be away from the crowd of customers. The screaming kids and chattering couples was all so overstimulating for you, especially when you needed to be aware of your surroundings.

You pushed open the door to the coffee shop, wincing at the gust of cold Autumn wind that hit your face as you walked outside.

Your shoes scuffed against the pavement as you walked on the sidewalk, glancing at your watch again to see how much longer you had in your lunch break.

You had a good ten minutes left before you had to clock back in.

You nodded with a sigh — it helped that your go-to coffee shop was only a short five minute commute back, even quicker on bus.

With a quick glance over your shoulder, you headed towards the bus stop on the street corner. Feeling that familiar itch in the back of your mind, your legs couldn’t move fast enough.

A few minutes passed before you were taking your seat on the bus, shivering as your scrubs came in contact with the cold plastic underneath you.

You savored the warmth of your coffee as you took a sip, enjoying the taste of sweet vanilla mixed with the slight bitter notes of espresso.

You shrugged your bag off your shoulder before placing it in your lap. Then you glanced at your watch again, counting down the minutes before you had to clock back in.

Your eyes wandered around the bus as it moved along the bumpy road, scanning the rest of the passengers. It was almost instinctual, the way your eyes surveyed the people around you and studied their behavior.

Some were parents, bouncing their crying infants on their thigh in an effort to shush them. Overwhelmed mothers carrying their baby in one arm and juggling a bottle in the other. The high pitched whining made you cringe inwardly, almost tempting you to dig through your bag for your earbuds to drown the noise out.

Others were just random people. Scrolling on their phones, unaware of their surroundings as their thumbs moved on their screens, typing and texting away.

All of them seemed blissfully ignorant as they were too buried in their own lives. Their own problems occupying all of their attention — no matter how trivial.

You could overhear other riders complaining about stupid things, things you would love to be complaining about.

You would love to be complaining about missed meetings and forgotten anniversaries, or petty arguments that held no substance.

You would love to be occupied with the most mundane problems, instead of worrying about being watched every minute of the day. Instead of looking over your shoulder with every other step.

Then suddenly, a shiver racks through your body as your phone dings in your purse.

That same ding that you heard that night in the parking garage.

You immediately felt your heart rate pick up at that noise, the pounding in your ears making your head ache. Your blood ran cold in your veins as you reached a shaky hand into your purse, digging through your bag and fishing out your phone.

It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t.

But it was.

Enjoying your latte? You take it with oat milk, right?

You almost started hyperventilating.

It only went downhill from there. Even more so.

The creepy messages got even worse and more frequent as days passed, soon turning into weeks.

They weren’t even just text messages anymore. They were private messages on social media, all from throwaway accounts with no profile picture or anything in the bios.

Your account is always the only name in their following list.

You should wear that perfume more often.

One message was sent, referring to a new perfume you had bought. One that you never posted about. One that never left the privacy of your bedroom nightstand.

That dress is gonna look great on you.

Another message would come a different day, referring to a flowy sundress you had bought from a department store. A dress that you never took a selfie in or posted about in any way. A dress that you never even took off of the hanger in your closet.

Ever since the texts grew more and more invasive and personal, delving into details that the stranger couldn’t possibly know, your mental health deteriorated even further.

You couldn’t go a single day without a panic attack, all crumpled up in a sniveling ball and hyperventilating.

You booked an appointment with your doctor for an anxiety medication, practically begging for the highest dosage you could get. You never missed a dose.

The medicine worked well enough, quelling your racing heart rate and preventing you from devolving into an immobile mess.

Besides the paralyzing fear that ran through your body whenever you heard that ding from your phone.

It worked decent enough — at least, until things started disappearing from your home.

It started with smaller things.

You would be looking for your favorite necklace when it’s nowhere to be found. You know it should be on top of your dresser, sitting in the little jewelry case — but it’s not there. The little jewelry case is empty. You even yank open your drawers and dig through your clothes to see if maybe it fell in your dresser somehow, but to no avail.

You write it up as just a simple misplacement. You probably just took it off during your shift and left it at work. Or maybe you left it in your scrub pants pocket, before tossing your clothes in the wash.

You couldn’t bring yourself to think about it too much. That anxiety medicine could only help so much.

Then you couldn’t find your favorite lip gloss. It was a small tube with a silver cap, intricate black lettering scrawled along the glass of the tube.

You rummaged through your makeup bag, maybe it had fallen to the bottom and was buried everything else. Then when you came up empty, you looked in your car. Maybe you set it down in the console when you were in a rush?

But no matter where you looked, just like your necklace, it was nowhere to be found.

Then bigger things started disappearing.

Like a matching set of lingerie.

The black lace bra you loved wearing, with the soft fabric that never chafed your skin, was nowhere to be found. No matter how much you rummaged through your drawers or your closet, you could never find that damn black bra. You looked through all of your dirty clothes and anything that was in the washer or dryer, and you would always come up empty.

The corresponding black lace panties were missing too.

No matter how much you painstakingly rummaged through your laundry, the panties were never to be found.

(….)

Keegan saw everything, from the very beginning.

The first time he saw you in person was in that parking garage. Though that’s not when his interest began.

He wore all black, complete with a black compression shirt and tactical pants, and combat boots. He also sported a black surgical mask and a black beanie. He blended in perfectly with the darkness of the parking garage. He watched you step off the elevator, wrapping yourself in your coat as you shivered. He could see your breath come out in puffs from the cold air. He drank in your vulnerable form as you walked next to a row of cars, completely unaware of him standing behind a concrete pillar near your car.

Completely unaware of him hiding a mere forty feet away from you. Phone burning a whole in his pants pocket and binoculars hung around his neck.

Anticipation built in his chest as he admired you from afar, squinting as he scanned your form for any detail he could make out at this distance. Then he raised his binoculars up to his eyes before adjusting the lenses accordingly, until your frame was perfectly focused.

His icy gaze burned into you as you walked away from the elevator, drinking in every detail he could get his eyes on. The way your hips swayed with each step. The way your scrubs were cinched at the waist, accentuating your figure. The way your hair was pulled up out of your face, revealing your bare neck for him to see.

He saw you wearing a delicate necklace, though he was too far away to see much else about it. What he did notice though, was that the charm on it was hanging low — nestled in between your breasts. Your cleavage was barely exposed because of your scrub top, but the dangling charm disappearing beneath the neckline of your shirt just made his cock throb in his jeans.

Only a few moments of looking at you sent his mind spiraling into conjured up images, images that made his heart race.

He wanted to lick stripes up and down the valley of your breasts, catching the cold chain of your necklace between his teeth. He wanted to nip and kiss at the sensitive skin of your tits, squeezing whatever breast he wasn’t worshipping with his mouth. He wanted to take a nipple in his mouth and suck, making whines fall from your lips before he bit down gently.

“Fuckin’ love these tits. Can’t get enough of them.”

He couldn’t wait to hear how your whines sounded, or how your skin tasted on his tongue.

All he could think of as he saw your neck on display was how he would mark it up, littering your neck with bites and saliva. He could just imagine himself gripping your jaw with his big gloved hand, tilting your head to the side to give him more room. More room to dive into the crook of your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses and bites into the sensitive skin.

Then he thought of wrapping a muscular arm around you and gripping your throat with a rough hand as he pounded into you from behind. He could imagine your heartbeat thrumming under his fingers. He imagines your hands clutching onto his arm as he squeezes just enough to make you dizzy, all while thrusting his hips into you. He imagines your juices and his precum mixing, making little wet sounds with each thrust. He imagines you letting out little whines of pleasure as he fills you up with his cock, stretching you out just for him. He imagines your cry as he angles his hips to thrust further, hitting that sensitive spot inside your soaking cunt. Your breath would hitch.

“Oh, you like that, huh? So fucking tight.” He all but growls into your ear, husky and full of gravel. Lips hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine as you clench around his cock.

“Such a needy fuckin’ pussy.” He grounds out into your ear, his voice rough and unbridled with lust. “So fucking soaked, doll. Knew you wanted me.”

He imagines your pretty face contorted in ecstasy as you howl out his name, just like you should be. He imagines your tight pussy clenching and squeezing around his throbbing cock, milking him for all he was worth as you squirt around him.

“Atta’ girl,” he would croon in your ear as you cried out, your cunt spasming around his cock. “You just needed to get filled, huh? Needed me to fuck you stupid?”

Finally, he imagined rutting into dripping cunt and emptying his warm load into you. He imagines the pearlescent liquid dribbling down your thighs.

“Feel that? All stuffed full of my cum, just dripping out of that cunt?”

His erection throbbed in his pants at the thought, but he just kept looking at you walking across the parking garage.

Patience was a virtue, one he barely had. ‘Barely,’ he thought as he snapped a photo of your walking form.

He saw your lips curl up into a grin as you approached your car, and his eyes narrowed. When he catches a glimpse of your glossy lips, his mouth quirked into a similar grin, teetering on the edge of a smirk, under his mask. The sheer wash of cherry that tinted your plump lips only made his yearning grow.

He wanted to cup the back of your neck with his gloved hand and pull you to him, smashing his lips to yours. He wanted to devour you, slotting his mouth against yours and tasting the hint of fruit from the lip gloss. He wanted to nip your bottom lip between his teeth and force you to open your mouth with a gasp, letting him slip his tongue inside. He wanted to taste you wholly and completely — savoring every last trace of flavor. Toothpaste, mouthwash, tea, coffee. Anything.

The more he stares at your shiny pout, the more he slips into the fantasies that clouded his mind.

He could just imagine you on your knees, settled in between his legs as you looked up at him with your pretty eyes. All glossed over, just like your lips, as tears brimmed along your lower lash line. He imagines your glossy lips wrapped around his cock, completely enveloping him in your warm, wet mouth. He imagines the gags and whines you let out as you force yourself to take him to the base, feeling the scratch of his hair against your nose. He imagines his calloused hand gripping your hair and using it to hold your mouth down on his cock.

“That too much for ya’, doll? Hmm?” He imagines himself crooning down at you with a sickly sweet voice, mimicking a show of concern. “You chokin’ on it?”

He imagines the whimper you let out around his cock as you struggle to accommodate his girth, trying to breathe through your nose and relax your throat. Then he would see the tears trailing down your cheeks and he would laugh.

Keegan would be yanked from his filthy thoughts when your car’s headlights flash a few times. You were walking up to your car, only a few feet away from the hood of your car. Which put you only fifteen feet away from the concrete pillar that he was hiding behind.

His heart pounded in his ears. He’s never been this close to you before.

It took every fiber of his being to not just dart out from the shadows and snatch you up; wrapping his strong arms around your exhausted form and drag you away. No matter if you were kicking or screaming.

He put the binoculars down and let it hang around his neck once more. He didn’t need it now that you were this close to him.

His eyes followed you as you opened your car door, burning into you as you ducked your head to sit in the drivers seat.

His hand moved almost on autopilot as he dug in his pocket, fishing out his phone.

Click. One shot of you right as you sat in the drivers seat, but before you shut your door.

Click. Another shot of you sitting in the drivers seat, but this time through the glass as you had shut your door.

Click. A shot of you with your head tilted back against the head rest, your eyes fluttered shut.

A perfect example of how you would look splayed across his bed, your head thrown back against his pillow and your eyes clenched shut in pleasure.

Click. A shot taken a split second after the previous one, with your hands rubbing your face in exhaustion.

Then he noticed something that made his brow furrow.

You never locked your car doors.

All he could think about as he swiped away from the camera on his phone, was how irresponsible and reckless that was. Didn’t you know that locking your car was one of the first things you should do after you get in your car? Someone like him could just yank your door open and drag you away, stuffing you in their car.

So he couldn’t help himself when he clicked on your number in his contacts. It was already long saved in his phone, ready to be used and abused.

You really shouldn’t sit in your car with the doors unlocked.

He watched as your phone screen illuminated your face, indicating that you had just received his text. He watched as your hands come down from your face and your eyes dart down to your lap, presumably where your phone lay.

His lips stretched into a self indulgent, almost hungry, smirk as he watches your expression shift from tired confusion to that of a frightened doe. All wide eyes and shaky gasps.

He couldn’t help but snap one last photo, perfectly capturing your fragile and scared state.

He watched you speed out of the parking garage, leaving black skid marks on the grey concrete.

He was in no hurry to follow you, though.

He only had to look down at his phone to see where you were going. On his phone was a map with a moving green dot, indicating the tracker he planted on your car.

Later that night, he couldn’t help but chuckle as he sees that your contact was no longer available. You had blocked him. On that number, at least.

The next time he saw you was a few days later, during your lunch break.

He tailed you right from the very moment you stepped out of the lobby of your work. Always keeping his distance, letting a few civilians act as a barrier between him and yourself. Always keeping his eyes trained on your white beanie, making sure you don’t stray too far.

He always needed his eyes on you.

He studied you as you walked the short commute to your favorite small coffee shop. You were all bundled up in the same coat from that night. You were still wearing the same mittens, too. Just one look at the thick wool fabric made his lips curve into a grin, serving as a reminder of that unforgettable night — the first night he ever saw you in person.

He saw you look over your shoulder every minute or so, wearing that same frightened expression you wore in the parking garage. All wide eyed and panicked. A sick part of him enjoyed it.

He reveled in it.

He reveled in every wide eyed peek over your shoulder until you had arrived at the coffee shop. It was cute how you scurried inside the door, almost like you knew you were being followed.

A few more civilians filed in behind you, still providing that safety net that kept you from spotting him.

He didn’t miss a beat in stepping inside behind you.

He sauntered over to the dim corner of the shop, sinking into one of the wooden chairs. He pretended to scroll on his phone to avoid rousing suspicion, eyes darting up to look at you every few seconds.

With every glance he snuck at your figure, he savored any details he could get his eyes on. He easily tuned out the noise of chattering customers and screaming children as he looked at you, drinking you in.

As his eyes burned into your face from afar, he felt endlessly grateful for the daylight illuminating your features properly. Especially as you stood underneath the light fixtures in the cafe, the light hitting the high points of your face just right. The shadows accentuated your bone structure and your lips.

He notices how your hair is tied up and out of your face, revealing your neck — just like it was that night. Realistically, he knows you tie it up out of convenience. But some desperate part of him doesn’t care why, he just knows that he wants to mark your neck all up and claim you as his own.

Then he studies your body language. You unconsciously biting your lip. Your foot tapping on the wooden floor, a clear sign of nerves and impatience. He’s sure that you’re itching to get out of there and get back to work, away from his prying eyes.

His eyes remained glued onto you as the line moved, committing every little expression you made into his memory. Every eye roll brought forth by the annoying customer in front of you. Every exasperated sigh that fell from your pretty lips.

His lips spread into a full blown grin when you fish your phone out of your pocket, sparing it a quick glance to check for notifications. Your eyes would always be a bit wide when you glance down at your phone, as if you were expecting a text from him any moment now.

You reminded him of a wounded doe, with its ears pinned back and tail tucked between its legs.

He loved how he affected you. How even now, he could see a shiver rack through your body, when you were bundled up with layers of clothing. He had a sneaking suspicion that you weren’t shivering from the weather, though. He knew you were shaking from nerves.

When he sees that there were only two customers in front of you, Keegan’s legs moved on their own. He felt himself get up from his seat in the dim corner and step into the line. Right behind you.

He could hear his heart pounding in his ears. You were so close. So close.

He could smell the slightest of traces of your perfume, notes of vanilla and fruits hitting his nose with every inhale.

His hands twitched at his sides, desperate to just reach out and touch you. He was itching to just reach forward and feel you, to get his hands on any part of your body he could touch.

He wanted to finally feel your soft skin under his calloused touch, gripping it in his hold after admiring it for so long. He wanted to finally grab your face in his hands and capture your lips in his, slotting his mouth against yours. He wanted to finally feel your plush lips all wet and slippery from his ministrations, swallowing every whine and moan that fell from your pretty lips.

“Love these lips. Dreamt of kissing them for so long.” He would murmur against your mouth, only giving you a moment of reprieve before diving back in. He would nip and bite at your lip, savoring every yelp and whimper that tumbled from your mouth. He would smirk against your mouth.

He couldn’t help but imagine how your mouth would taste. He could imagine the sweet notes of your vanilla latte mixed with the sweet flavor of your lip gloss.

He knew every part of you would taste just as good.

Then he was pulled, yanked out of his thoughts as he heard your voice, for the very first time. It was the perfect pitch, no matter how high or low it was. It made his chest fill with warmth all the same.

“Can I have a large hot dirty chai latte?” He heard you ask the barista, in that perfect, cute voice of yours. He committed every single syllable to his brain, every lilt and cadence.

He overheard the barista’s chipper reply as he slipped out of the line.

Only a few minutes would pass before he was boarding the bus, taking his seat in the middle. Sitting next to a chunk of unassuming passengers, letting him blend right in as you stepped on the bus.

All shivering and on edge, your bag hanging from your shoulder while one hand grasps at the metal railing and your other hand is holding your hot latte.

His eyes followed you as you walked, crinkling at the edges as you just so happened to choose a seat right in his line of vision.

Just like that night in the parking garage, his lips quirked into a sick grin as he brought his phone out of his pocket. Keeping his phone hidden in his lap, only barely tilted up enough for the lense to catch a glimpse of you. It wouldn’t be the best shot, but it would do.

Click. He snapped a photo of you sitting there, your cold hands cupping your warm beverage as you took a sip.

Click. Another photo of your eyes fluttering shut for a split second as you savored the warmth from your latte.

The more he stared at your expression, the more he wanted to be the source of it. The more he needed to see your face etched with fear and paranoia. Brows all furrowed and eyes widened, pulse thrumming on your neck in a panic.

So he pocketed his phone before fishing in his other pocket to retrieve a burner.

What other choice did he have when you blocked him?

Enjoying your latte? You take it with oat milk, right?

He heard the ding from your purse just like you did.

Your expression sure didn’t disappoint. Your eyes widen and your breathing picks up, coming out in little gasps as your shaky hand reaches into your bag.

He can’t help but laugh when you reread the text, your eyes skimming the screen over and over as if it would make the text disappear if you read it enough. As if it would make him disappear.

You couldn’t be more wrong.

A few hours had passed by the time he was driving into your apartment complex. The sun was already setting. You were still at work, picking up your usual overtime shift.

Leaving your apartment empty for him.

It had a piss poor level of security, which disappointed him for your safety but worked out just fine for him.

There was no code to gain access to the apartment complex. Just some gate that used a motion detector and let anyone in. Then the entrance to your apartment was on the outside, instead of the inside of a big building.

No doorman, no elevators, no security systems.

He couldn’t believe his luck.

The corners of his lips quirked up under his mask as he walked up to your front door, backpack slung over his shoulder. Dressed in all black, just like that night in the parking garage. Latex surgical gloves slipped on his hands.

He knelt in front of your front door, his knees resting against the hard concrete. The small metal rods felt cold in his gloved hands as he began to pick the lock, sliding the rods inside and angling them around. He pressed his head against the door, right next to the lock so he could hear the telltale click of the door unlocking.

Just a few more twists and turns and then.. click.

A pleased rumble came deep from his chest as he rose from his knees. He took a brief look around the hallway to make sure no one could see before he took the long awaited first step into your home.

He was immediately hit with that comforting, sweet smell the moment he stepped inside. Your smell.

It was dark when he walked in, you had turned off all of the lights when you left that morning. He pulled out his phone that was burning a hole in his pocket, tapping the screen to use as a flashlight.

He patted along the wall, feeling around for a light switch.

When he found one, he flicked it on and watched as light flooded the entrance of your apartment. He reached behind him to lock your front door.

The entrance led directly into the kitchen, the small island scattered with a few empty coffee cups and a wilted potted plant. It wasn’t terribly dirty by any means, just a bit of clutter as a result of rushing to work. The dying plant was a result of being too busy to take care of something else.

His icy eyes moved to survey the rest of your home. He was eager to drink in every detail he could, especially after waiting so long.

He walked into your living room that was connected to your kitchen. It was small, but good enough for one person. Soon it would be good enough for two.

His eyes landed on your couch. It looked comfortable enough. The cushions were large and fluffy, perfect for you to be nestled against while his fingers or cock were buried inside your cunt.

Which is exactly what he imagined at that very moment.

He imagined your naked and vulnerable form caged underneath him as he straddles you. His big, calloused hands rested on your stomach, thumbs tracing small circles in your hot skin. Your head laid on the armrest as you stare up at him with glossed over eyes. Pupils blown wide with lust. Little gasps leaving your pretty bite-swollen lips as your breasts heave with each pant. That same necklace you always wore resting against your tits.

His tongue darts out to wet his lip, hungrily eyeing your breasts. His hands move to cup your tits, not caring to be gentle as he squeezed and groped at the sensitive flesh.

“Love these fuckin’ tits, bunny.” He mutters as he dips his head down to take one nipple in his mouth, sucking it with a growl that vibrated against your skin. You whine quietly, bucking your hips against his clothed thigh. He could feel wetness soaking through his jeans as your wet cunt grinded against his thigh. He nips at the swollen bud, tugging the nipple between his teeth and pulling just a bit before letting go with a pop.

“Could suck ‘em all day.” He bites the skin around your nipples, leaving indentations in your flesh. “And you’d like that, wouldn’t you? You’d like it if I marked you all up, huh? Ruined you for anyone else.”

He could feel your hips buck against his thigh again, all needy and sensitive and desperate to be filled. So fucking soaked.

“Any other man.” He pinches your other nipple.

“What? Gonna pretend you wouldn’t like me ruining you for anyone else?” He would press, eyes staring up at you as you bit your lip. Simultaneously trying to silence your moans and your answer to his condescending question.

“Oh, not talking? That’s alright.” His eyes crinkle at the edges, before he moves down your wriggling body. All the way until he reaches between your legs. He wrestles your legs so they’re resting over his shoulders, his strong arms snaked around your thighs. Keeping you locked in place.

“I’ll let your pussy do the talking for you. She’s always honest for me.” He’s cruel and teasing with his touch, almost like revenge for your show of silence. For your stubbornness.

Your cunt squeezed around nothing as his breath hit your sensitive skin.

His thick finger works to spread your slick along your slit, feeling your juices coat his digit. You couldn’t hold back your gasp. Gathering your wetness on that finger, then rubbing it against his thumb. Watching with an almost fascinated look as a string of juices connected between his finger and his thumb.

“Wow. She’s so wet for me.” He murmured casually as he dips his finger just inside your slit again, only pushing in one inch. Just enough to observe your reaction as you got the slightest bit of penetration. Then he pulls his finger out.

“Look. Look at that, pup. Look at how wet she is for me.” He shows you his soaked finger, all slick and slippery with your juices. Still referring to your pussy like she’s her own person, and not something that belongs to you.

He didn’t miss how your cunt pulsed at his words.

“She soaked my finger. Barely even touched her and she soaked it.” Was all he crooned before he was shoving his wet finger in your slack jawed mouth, forcing you to taste your own juices. You whimper around his finger as you suck it clean, your brows furrowed and your eyes glossy. “Oh, good girl. Don’t even have to tell you what to do and you’re already suckin’ it clean.”

He pulls it out of your mouth with a pop.

“But now I think I wanna taste her for myself.”

His mouth came down hard on your waiting cunt, his tongue making quick work to devour your juices. Licking a flat stripe up and down your slit, savoring the flavor of your wetness.

He’s messy and sloppy in the way he eats your pussy. Making obscene noises as he groans against your cunt, tongue dipping inside and lips sucking on your clit. Hands digging into the skin of your thighs as he pries your legs apart impossibly further.

You feel him smirk against your cunt as he hears you whine and moan in unbidden pleasure.

“Mm? You like that?”

You couldn’t help but nod over and over, just wanting him to keep licking you. Keep touching you. But of course, he couldn’t make it that easy.

“No, no, no. I need to hear you say it.” His fingers trace around your slit as his breath fans against your entrance. Your hips buck desperately against his face.

“Look at how fuckin’ loud she is for me. Hmm?” He dips two thick fingers into your slit, rubbing your pussy just enough to make wet sounds but not enough to actually penetrate.

“Why can’t you be that loud, huh?” He asks against your thigh.

You swallow.

“Please, please! Keegan, plea—,” Your pleas would be cut off by your own moans as his tongue dives back in, his fingers accompanying his mouth.

You throw your head back against the armrest with a cry as his arms pull your pussy impossibly closer to his mouth.

“Love this fuckin’ pussy.” He moans into you, suckling on your swollen clit and pumping two fingers into you. His tongue kept moving along your pussy, licking along your lips before kissing and sucking the sensitive skin.

His fingers never stopped moving. His thick fingers kept feeling around inside your soaking cunt, exploring every bit of warmth and wetness.

He drinks in every moan and whimper and cry that fall from your lips as he eats you whole, feeling you draw closer and closer to the edge with each lick and pump.

“What if I just.. curl my fingers like this?” He asks, mouth still flush against your pussy as he curls his two fingers at just the right angle. The perfect angle to hit that spongey spot over and over.

He laughs against your pussy as you wail his name, feeling your orgasm rock through you. You squirm and writhe in his snake like hold as you squirt on his tongue and fingers. Your juices absolutely soaking his chin and palm.

He forces himself to shake off those thoughts in favor of surveying other parts of your home.

Feeling his cock throb in his pants, he moves on to the most anticipated part of your home. Your bedroom.

A smile stretches across his face as he takes a moment to study your most sacred place.

You had decorated your room the best you could afford, with what little time you had too. You had hung some decorative lights along the ceiling that glowed a warm white, and you had hung some paintings along the walls.

Your dresser had some trinkets scattered along the top, some unlit candles and a fake succulent plant. One thing caught his eye, though. Your jewelry case that was sitting there, filled with a few rings and earrings. But what really caught his eye was that your favorite necklace was sitting there too. That same necklace he saw you wearing in the parking garage.

His hand moved on autopilot. Before he knew it, he was snatching the necklace up and pocketing it.

Then his eyes caught onto a lip gloss that was perched on your drawer. He just knew it was the one you wore in the parking garage.

He slipped that into his pocket, right along side your necklace.

Then his eyes landed on your bed. It looked so comfortable and sturdy, perfect for him to fuck you into the mattress on.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You cry out as he pounds into you. Your legs pressed against your chest and his arms caging you in, keeping you locked in a mating press. Your breasts bounced with each thrust, making him dip his head down to take a nipple into his mouth. His eyes are staring up at you, grinning at your fucked out state. All glossy eyes and bite-swollen lips.

“Yeah, you like that?” He croons against your breast.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah—,” You nod, babbling mindlessly as you feel that knot in your stomach tightening.

He smirks against your skin, before biting it.

“Aw, yeah. I know, bunny.” He coos, hips never faltering as he felt your cunt squeeze so perfectly around his cock. “Especially right… here. Hmm?” He angles his hips to be able to pound into you even sharper, reaching that sensitive spot with every thrust.

“Oh!” You wail, clutching at his back as he reaches down to rub at your swollen clit.

He shakes his head, forcing himself to move on from that image.

Then his eyes caught onto your perfume that was sitting on your nightstand.

Vanilla and fruity, all sweet and comforting.

He couldn’t help himself as he sprayed a few mists of the perfume in front of him.

He inhaled, and he only felt the throbbing in his pants grow.

He moved on to your closet.

He took his time in flipping through your hung up clothes, squeezing the soft fabric in his gloved hands. Imagining you in every outfit that he saw in front of him, imagining your tits peeking out in every dipping neckline or bikini that he saw.

Until he came across a sundress. All flowy and lightweight. Pastel blue with white silk straps and a little white bow in the front, right where the neckline plunged.

The skirt of the dress didn’t leave much to the imagination.

He could tell if you were wearing it now, it would end right at mid thigh. If the wind was blowing, the dress would fly up and give a clear view of your skimpy little thong or bikini or whatever other panties you wore.

That kind of dress would give someone him easy access to do whatever they pleased.

He could just imagine you standing in your kitchen, washing dishes as you wore that damn dress. Your hands all wet and covered with suds as you scrub at a plate. He cages you in from behind by planting his hands on the counter on either side of your body. He brushes himself up against your ass, rubbing his throbbing cock against you.

“Feel what you do to me, dolly?”

You drop the plate into the sink and you quietly gasp, heart pounding in your ears as you feel him grinding against you. His mouth comes down to the crook of your neck to leave open mouthed kisses, stubble scraping your skin.

“Don’t stop on my account, doll.” He murmurs against your ear, before sucking a rough bite into the crook of your neck.

You pick up the plate and go back to scrubbing, all while feeling his mouth move along your skin. Down your neck, to your shoulder blades. His hands move from their place on the counter and cup your tits, squeezing them in his big hands. He can feel your nipples hardening under the thin fabric of the dress.

“Fit so damn perfect in my hands.”

You gasp as he tweaks your nipples over the fabric. His hips rock against your ass again, making you whimper. Then his hands trail down your stomach and all the way to the skirt of your little dress. His big hands splay under your dress, his hot skin burning against your cold flesh. He gropes and squeezes at your hips, loving how soft it is under his hands. Then he gives that same treatment to your godsent thighs. So fucking strong and soft all at once.

“Love these hips. These fuckin’ thighs, fuck. ” Speaking of thighs, you can’t stop rubbing your thighs together. Your stomach was filled with heat the more he grinded his cock against your clothed ass.

That heat only grew and grew as he unzipped his pants and freed his cock from his boxers. It was already throbbing and swollen, the tip an angry shade of red.

“Got me so hard already, bun.”

He uses one hand to lift your dress and pull your panties to the side, revealing your soaking wet cunt. Then he uses his other hand to guide the head of his cock and rub it against your slit.

Your breath hitches as the tip of his cock breaches your folds, your hands coming to a screeching halt.

You hear him groan against your neck as he pushes further in, fraction by fraction until he was buried to the hilt. You throw your head back involuntarily, mouth gaping open as he filled you so fucking good.

You just wanted him to move. You needed him to move.

“C’mon, love. Keep workin’ or I’m not moving.”

You whimper, forcing your hands to keep moving and scrubbing, despite the pleasure flooding your nerves.

“Atta girl.” Was all he murmured in your ear before he started thrusting into your tight cunt.

He pulled himself out of his own fantasy for what felt like the millionth time, knowing you would be getting off work soon.

He was just about to turn and leave your room when he spotted your laundry hamper sitting in the corner. His legs moved on their own accord as he walked to your bin of dirty laundry.

There was only a few articles of clothing sitting in the hamper, but only one caught his eye.

A pair of teal panties. Used panties.

Before he knew it, he was reaching down into the hamper and picking up the panties. He noticed a wet spot right on the crotch, one that must have come from your wet cunt earlier that morning.

His cock twitched as it sat painfully hard in his pants as he imagines your wet pussy nestled right against the very fabric he was blessed enough to be holding right now.

He couldn’t help himself as he pulled his mask off and lifted the fabric up to his face, taking a whiff of the wet spot.

He just couldn’t believe that he was smelling your fucking essence.

While he was holding your panties up to his face, his other hand was hard at work unzipping his pants and fishing his cock out of his boxers.

It sprung up against his stomach right away, he was so fucking hard. Especially after all of the fantasies that have been trapped in his fucked up head.

“Fuck, smell so fucking good.”

He groaned as he inhaled again, your scent filling his nose perfectly. He immediately started stroking his hard cock, wrapping his hand around his shaft and squeezing with each stroke. Up and down, up and down.

He would take a huge inhale of your scent with every breath he took. As he sniffed the wet fabric, he went back to those fantasies in his head. All of those images of him pounding you from behind. Images of you on your knees. Staring up at him with glossed over eyes, tears running down your cheeks as he came down your throat. You moaning his name as he finger fucked your needy pussy. The sounds of your wet cunt and your juices mixing with his precum.

He felt that knot in his stomach build up unbelievably quick as all of those images run through your head.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

The more he imagined your sweet fucking voice moaning his name as you squirt around his cock, the closer he got to shooting his load on your bedroom floor.

His fist moved faster around his cock, twisting at the head and rubbing at the tip. Hissing at the sensitivity and bucking his hips as he felt himself growing dangerously close to cumming.

To push himself over the edge, he brought the panties down to his throbbing cock and used them to finish stroking.

“God, fuck!” He would all but shout as he shot rope after rope of his hot cum onto your bedroom floor.

He panted as he stroked himself through his orgasm, letting the aftershocks ebb away.

Once he caught his breath, he adjusted himself back in his boxers and zipped his pants back up.

Then he couldn’t help himself as he shoved those pair of panties into his backpack that was still on his shoulder.

After making sure everything looked the same, all he had left to do was plant the cameras.

He planted the first one in your bedroom, right above the window. It would be too high for you to see it but high enough for him to get a good view of everything in your room.

He planted the second one in your living room, right underneath your television. It was black so it would blend in with your television perfectly.

He planted the last one in your kitchen, right on top of your high cabinets. It would be way too high for you to notice, let alone remove, but it would be a perfect view for him.

Within five minutes he was out of your apartment, using the same lock pick equipment to lock it behind him.

All he had to do was look down at his phone to see the video feed of the cameras he planted.

Now he could watch his bunny you any time he wanted.

©️ glossysoap 2024. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission.

#SoundCloud #modern warfare x reader #call of duty x reader #call of duty ghosts #keegan russ x reader #keegan x reader #keegan p russ #cod keegan #keegan p russ x reader #tw stalking

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jkbabiey · 2 years ago

Text

a lot more

Pairing: fwb!jkxreader(f)

Genre: fluf; smut; slight angst; college!AU: fwb2lovers!AU

Warnings: dom!jk, sub!reader (they try to switch it up but it’s just not in them), athlete!jk, medstudent!reader, rough sex, praise kink, spit kink, slight overstimulation, worried kook, anxiety :(

Jungkook knew, when you texted him a 'come over' at 11:56PM on a Sunday, that college was kicking your ass. It was finals period so the real question was who's ass wasn't being kicked, but he knew it took a lot for you to admit your ass was being kicked, yet you did text him a straight-up invite to fuck - instead of calling him and beating around the bush to see who'd cave first like you always did.

Obviously, being Jeon Jungkook, he didn't even think of complaining or refusing your invite but you both knew there would be a snarky little teasing remark about your urgency to be with him. He had thought of a million ways to tease you on the way to your dorm. Still, as soon as you opened the door to your room all of the witticisms that had come to his mind throughout the ride vanished, leaving him with furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips, while his eyes analyzed your freshly washed hair, your deep dark circles, and your chapped lips. You didn't greet him, opting to just turn around, walk to the kitchen to get a bottle of cold water, and leave him to close the door on his way in.

Jungkook found this - not being greeted with a smile and a kiss on the cheek, like always - weird, to say the least. Among every single soul he had gotten to know in his two years as a college student, you had to be the kindest, sweetest, and warmest person he had ever met, which contrasted a lot with the rest of the people he knew. Most people in college, at least in the environment he was in being an athlete and belonging to a frat, got a little consumed by the freedom of being in college and away from parents and further responsibilities, and most often than not got a little presumptuous and a tiny bit too extroverted, surrendering to bad habits.

You weren't like that tho. You were still in your first year of college and hadn't experienced the tumultuous life of college parties and alcohol because (1) you didn't exactly get along with the popular people that got invited to parties and (2) even if you did get invited to parties, you didn't really like them - too many people and way too loud music. Jungkook had met you in the coffee shop you worked in. It was near college and had the best iced coffee ever. You were a pretty girl and had a cute smile so you immediately caught his attention but he didn't even try to get your number because you just emanated that quirky nerdy energy to you and that was exactly what he wasn't looking for in a girl. Basically you were far from anything close to his type. Actually, he wasn't even looking for a girl - his life was busy already and the last thing he needed was another distraction.

Still, there was no denying you when a month of stolen glances and shy smiles passed and you handed Jungkook his cup of iced coffee with your number written under his name on the name tag. He remembers panicking and not taking any advances toward you the week after you gave him your number. He didn't even go to get coffee through that week. You genuinely thought you had scarred the man away. But after he saw you in a denim skirt and a black crop top walking through uni, he couldn't help but send you a little text.

Since then you two had been casually hanging out - which was a way of saying you had been having casual sex, with absolutely no strings attached and no expectations from either side. Jungkook did consider you a friend and he thought your playful banter and fun conversations meant you also saw him as a close friend. And you two had gotten closer than a lot of Jungkook's other friends because, in his eyes, you were without a doubt the most genuine person he had ever met and you always brought a feeling of freshness with you whenever you two got together. He liked you.

He came inside your room to see what seemed like anatomy sketches and notes sprawled everywhere on your bedroom floor. "Is everything ok?" he asked once you came into your room with your water bottle. "Yeah, I've just been having a hard time focusing and decided to take a break and go take a cold shower," you said, your voice sweet as ever. You set the water bottle on top of your wooded desk and walked towards him in your tank top and tight pajama shorts. "Thought you could help me focus a little better too," you whispered, enveloping his neck with both your arms. His hands were automatically placed on your hips while his head reached down to gently kiss you on the lips.

You guided him to seat on the edge of your bed while still kissing him and straddled his lap with your legs on each side of his hips, feeling his big hands groping the flesh of your thighs. You griped the thin dark hairs on the bottom of his head and pulled them a little, smiling against Jungkook's lips when he gasped against you at the little pull.

Jungkook wasn't exactly convinced that everything was okay and that you were just having trouble focusing. He knew you struggled with anxiety and could get a little too lost in your studies, even forgetting to take care of yourself.

You felt Jungkook's hand land on your right arm to pull you back a little "W-wait y/n, is everything okay? Have you eaten today?" he asked, watching your brows furrow and your legs starting to get off of his lap. You stood up, the annoyance was obvious on your expression and Jungkook had never even seen an ounce of that on you.

"Why do you care?" you asked, angry but still wearing the same quiet and sweet as honey tone of voice. "Listen, I really have to study. I called you here for a reason but if you're not in the mood, you should go. I have things to do and I don't want to waste my tim-"

"Ok, ok," Jungkook muttered seeing as your face started getting red and your behavior became more and more erratic and restless. "Come back here," he reached for your hand, pulling you into him once again and forcing you to sit back on his lap. And you did, looking down at your hands while Jungkook placed his hands on your hips and stayed quiet, just looking at you with a soft look in his eyes.

"I'm fine, I just need to relieve some tension," you quietly explained, fidgeting with your fingers like a little kid on Jungkook's lap.

"I get it," he whispered as his lips started puckering little kisses all the way from your cheek to the skin of your neck. You rested your arms on his shoulders, pulling him closer and letting him suckle on your neck. "I'll make you feel good."

In a second his hands were under your tank top, fondling your braless chest while you rolled your hips down into his, moaning into his hair as you felt his hardening length poking your leg. You reached down his back grabbed his sweatshirt and tugged it up to try and get it on your floor. Sensing your struggle with his clothes, Jungkook maneuvered to free himself of his sweatshirt and rid you of your tank top too. Almost automatically Jungkook's mouth was on your right nipple, his tongue massaging it and teasing you with little bites, while his hand fondled your other breast. You tilted your head back in pleasure, letting out breathy moans of Jungkook's name to which he buckled his hips up.

Soon both your sleeping shorts and his jeans were next to the rest of your clothing and Jungkook's fingers were cupping your heat. "God, you're so wet," Jungkook whimpered feeling the wetness already sipping through your panties, immediately pulling them to the side and running two of his fingers through your slit. “Bet you spent the whole day thinking of my cock, haven’t you?”

You nodded and hissed at the feeling of Jungkook inserting two of his fingers inside you abruptly, and pumping them in and out in a fast motion, not even giving you the time to adjust. Everything about Jungkook was big - his height, his cock, his fingers. Two of his fingers were thicker that three of yours, which was all you could handle when you played with yourself, but whenever you and Jungkook got together you knew you needed the preparation.

"I need you," you whined and he chuckled, husky and teasing, with his plump lips just beside your ear. You reached for the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down to reveal his hard shaft, that hit his abdomen. So close to you you could feel its heat. You humped your hips against his thighs, trying to get some friction after he removed his fingers from your pussy, and heard Jungkook groan, feeling the urgency in your hasty movements, watching the desire in your eyes, and earing the neediness in your high-pitched moans.

“You think you can take me already?” he asked, half serious, half teasing, and you nodded quickly, watching the smug grin on Jungkook’s face grow.

You always got so lost whenever Jungkook was near. His presence alone was intoxicating. He was able to overpower the habitual struggle of always reaching for something, always aiming to be someone. He allowed you to be whoever you were. He allowed you to be no one if that's what you wanted - he always managed to make you feel hyperaware of every single sensation that sparked through your body and that was enough. With Jungkook, you could fall apart. He'd be the death of you and you'd let him.

He reached down, grabbing your hips and lifting you a little so his dick would align with your entrance. He let you fall suddenly so his entire length would penetrate you and you hissed, shutting your eyes closed at the sudden intrusion. No matter how many times you two did this, you'd never get used to Jungkook's size. He reached his hand in between your sweaty bodies and quickly found your clit, rubbing quick circles against the hard nub.

"C'mon baby, move," he groaned before thrusting his hips up harshly. You cried out and he moved forward to envelop your waist in his arms, pressing light feathery kisses against your temple. "Be a good girl and fuck yourself on my dick."

You settled your knees on the space next to his hips, on each side, finding support to move on top of him, and placed your tiny hands on Jungkook's strong shoulders. You moved your body all the way up slowly until only his tip was inside of you. And then started moving back down at the same slow pace, defeatedly crying out at the size of him. "That's it, slow and steady baby," his voice guttural as his lips ghosted on yours, barely touching.

You repeated the motion, starting to fasten your pace when the burn of his size subsided and all that was left was the pleasure of feeling completely full of his cock. "You fill me up so good, Kook,” you whimpered and heard the deep groan Jungkook left out. He was losing patience. Jungkook wasn't a patient man and you knew that the pace at which you could comfortably ride him wasn't the pace he could reach when he was in control. Jungkook was an animalistic lover, going fucking feral whenever he got to be inside your pussy. You could see the self-control in his expression, the clenched jaw, shut eyes, and furrowed brows said it all for you.

It didn't take long until his self-control went out the window. All it took was a loud cry of his name out your mouth when you rolled your hips in a certain way so that your clit would rub against his pelvis. He thrust his hips up roughly, his abs clenching and let out a high-pitched whimper at the feeling of your walls clenching around him. He then planted his feet firmly against the floor of your bedroom and leaned back, laying himself down on the matters and bringing your forwards with him. He placed both his hands on your ass cheeks, grabbing them hard and spreading them to start to fuck up into you, setting the pace that he wanted, rough and fast. You leaned forward, clinging to every single portion of skin you could touch, screaming out moans of pleasure.

"Fuck, love this pussy so much, always so warm and tight," he groaned into your hair and grabbed your waist so he could lay you down on the mattress, now on your back. He settled between your legs, grabbing your thighs and opening them as wide as they could possibly go, aligning himself with your hole, and going back to fucking you mercilessly. His eyes fluttered and the drag of your velvety walls against the sensitive skin of his dick, and his lips brushing against yours.

Jungkook groaned at the sound of your wet pussy sucking his cock in, reaching his hand up to roughly grab your face, forcefully pressing his fingers against your jaw. Your teary eyes locked with his lustful ones just for him to messily press an open-mouthed kiss to your lips. You couldn't keep up with his pace. You never could and you loved it that way. You loved just how messy he always made you. You loved how he used your body like you were a lifeless fuck doll, with little to no care about how you felt. You loved it just the way he did it. You loved to be fucked hard and fast.

Jungkook got on his knees, grabbing both your legs to support them on his shoulders, chasing his own pleasure. He reached so deep inside of you in the new position you felt your eyes roll back. His eyes opened and he took your fucked out figure in - teary eyes, heavy breaths, plump red lips wet with drool, wild messy hair, sweaty shiny skin, his dick poking your tummy every time he went in deep. You're so tiny compared to him, sometimes he wonders how you could take his huge cock like you always do.

"You're perfect, so fucking beautiful," he whispered reaching forward to bring his lips to yours. He pressed a messy kiss to your lips, his hips still pistoning against yours. "Such a pretty, pretty girl," he whined against your lips before pressing another kiss to them, this one softer and lighter. You brought your hands up his back, scratching him in the process and he let out a breathy moan, whiny and needy.

"Fuck Kook, I'm almost there," you cried out and Jungkook reached between your bodies to rub your clit. Gasps and moans flew out your mouth as he fastened his pace.

"Come for me, princess," and you do, going over the edge quickly after you feel his fingers pinching your clit, your pussy squelching every time he bottoms out while his fingers continued circling your sensitive nub. You feel his pace slowing down and his cock throbs from the feeling of your pussy tightening around his dick. He pulled back to watch the point where your bodies connected, the way his shiny cock went all the way in and out until only his tip was left, and then back to the warmth of your pussy, and the way your juices coated the whole length of his dick and pooled on your ass too to the point where your sheets were soaked.

Jungkook grabbed your hips, lifting them slightly and going back to the furious pace he'd set earlier, chasing an orgasm of his own, not caring at all about how overstimulated you were. You gasped and clenched the sheets under you in your fists, biting your bottom lip.

"Open your mouth," Jungkook groaned, leaning forward closer to your face. You did as told and soon after he spit in your mouth,, a bit of drool hitting your cheek instead of your mouth and he instantly feels your walls tightening once again around his cock. You instantly swallow it and he's caught off guard when you gather the spit on your cheek onto your finger and suck it clean. "Such a fucking slut," he moaned and felt his cock throb inside you. His brain was heady with lust and he could think of nothing except for your pussy. He couldn't control the volume of his moans when you reached down to rub your clit, warning him of a second orgasm. He loses it, rutting into you like a desperate beast until ribbons of white cum are spewing out of his dick and stuffing you full. The feeling of his cum inside you sent you over the edge once again and you're gasping and crying out along with him, as the tightening of your walls prolongs his high.

Jungkook fell heavy on top of you and your hands were quickly directed to his dark locks of hair, now partially drenched in sweat. You felt his heavy breaths against the skin of your neck and his panting chest against yours.

"Was I too rough?" he asked after a few minutes of just laying there and recomposing his breathing paces.

"No, it was just what I needed," you answered and he chuckled, pressing a quick peck against your neck, tickling you.

"Can I stay the night? Don't feel like driving back home," he asked, finally getting off you to lay on his back, next to you instead.

"I don't think I'm gonna sleep tonight," you answered nuzzling your face against Jungkook's chest. "You can sleep here though, no problem."

"What do you mean you're not gonna sleep tonight?" he asked, his voice sounding a lot more worried already. "Don't you have class tomorrow?"

"Yeah, but I have an exam on friday and I couldn't study properly the whole day, so I'll study now."

"Y/n, you need to rest. You spent the whole weekend studying. You're coming to sleep with me now," he argued, standing up from your bed and trying to grab your hand to take you to take a bath.

"Kook, I already said I have to study. You're not entitled to just tell me what to do. I already decided I will spend the night studying and you can't tell me not to!" you snapped and Jungkook raised his hands in defeat. He moved and started to grab his clothes and get dressed, while you sat up on your bed. "What are you doing?"

"Going home. If you already decided you're gonna spend the night studying like a fucking maniac I might as well go sleep in my own bed," he grumbled and you just watched him getting dressed, trying to figure out if this was your fault or if he was being an actual asshole for not respecting your schedules.

"Are you seriously getting mad at me because I need to study?"

"I'm not mad y/n," he sighed. "I just think that you can't take care of yourself for shit. I'm sure all you've eaten since Friday was a fucking apple and two protein bars and you're probably running on two hours of sleep. And now I try to help and you lash out at me?" he expresses his anger in the calmest way possible and his eyes don't express anything other than worrisome. "I'm going home, now. Do whatever you want," he said, coming closer to you, that were still seating down on your bed, and leaning down to press a kiss against your forehead. He was angry but he wouldn’t just leave without a kiss because that would just give you something else to overthink about. He always kissed your forehead on his way out.

He was driving towards his house but you still persisted in his mind. Had you slept at all throughout the whole weekend? And what exactly had you eaten in the last two days? Also, tomorrow was Monday and your first class was at 9AM from what he remembered from the timetable you had stuck on your bedroom door. So how were you planning on not sleeping?

He doesn't remember making any rational decision to stop in front of a convenience store to buy two boxes of instant chicken noodles and a pack of tea bags. He didn't exactly think it through. It was just a random thought that popped out and he just did it, like it was second nature to take care of you.

Suddenly, he was back at your door, knocking on the door, to find you already washed up, and brushing your teeth. "Wha- are yo-doin- here?" you asked, words muffled from the toothbrush in your mouth.

"I brought noodles because you actually have to eat something and you're having a cup of tea after to calm your nerves, so you can come to bed with me. Does that sound good?"

"Kook-"

"I don't even care, you have no choice. You are going to sleep tonight. I'm not letting you fuck up your body and your health over an exam," he interrupted you, already angry and the furrowed brows were back to tell you that he wasn't taking no for an answer anytime soon. And then he turned his back to you, walking towards your tiny kitchen to start cooking the noodles, apparently still angry.

You finished brushing your teeth and then walked up to Jungkook, a huge smile on your face that he didn't see because his broad back was turned to you. You enveloped his waist with your arms.

"Thank you for taking care of me," you whispered and he turned back to you, picking you up to take you in his arms as if you were a total baby as your legs circled his torso.

"Well, someone has to," he answered with a teasing smile on his lips, and you quickly leaned forward to kiss it away. "Now, you're staying up here. I don't know to which extent you won't just faint from how long you haven't eaten if I put you down."

Eventually, he did let you down and you two finished cooking together. After you ate together in comfortable silence he made you tea, which you drank in the warmth of your bed and then you laid down as he wrapped your body in his arms.

"Oh I forgot to tell you," you exclaimed from the space between Jungkook's shoulder and neck, where your face was nuzzled. "You're a great stress relief, I'll start calling you every time I'm having a nervous breakdown," you laughed and Jungkook's arms got tighter around you.

"You know you can, right? Call me if you are having a nervous breakdown, I mean," he whispered against your hair.

When you and Jungkook started hanging out, it wasn’t suposed to unvolve any kind of commitment. You were studying medicine and he was an athlete. You both had busy lives and a relationship was the last thing you needed. Everyone needed good sex from time to time tho, so that’s what you agreed on.

But you meant a lot more that just sex to Jungkook. And Jungkook’s meant a lot more than sex to you.

“I will, from now on.” you whispered, looking him in the eye and sending him a gentle smile.

It was in the way Jungkook’s arms were the most comfortable place you could think of even if you thought of your own home. There was no other place you’d rather be, when you’re in his arms. Nothing felt more like home than his arms. And it’s in the way the smell of your hair and the tone of your voice lifted the weight Jungkook was used to carry on his shoulders throughout the whole week. He could relax completely around you. He knew that when he was with you there was no pressure. You accepted him just the way he was. It’s in the way you loved when Jungkook’s eyes shone brighter when he talked about his passions or in the way he loved to take you to new restaurants because he couldn’t get enough of you childishly humming and dancing to random songs when you tasted food you liked.

It was in the way you just laid down that night and stared at each other for minutes on end, not saying a word. And in the way he moved his hand to run his fingers through your hair. And in the way you roamed your eyes throught his face, just to end up kissing his lips gently. And in the way you just closed your eyes, going to sleep with your arms around each other.

It all meant a lot more, and you both knew it.

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook reaction #jungkook smut #jungkook scenario #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #jungkook doctor au #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook college au #college!au jungkook #fwb #jungkook fwb #fwb!au #fwb to lovers #fwb au

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yangfleurs · 2 years ago

Text

stray kids reaction: they call you clingy

maknae line

pt.2

(hyung line pt.1 is here)

jisung

what you liked most about being with jisung was that it was never complicated with him. you two seemed to always be in tune with each other, knowing when to keep your distance and when to show your affectionate sides. but you knew jisung was an introvert, through and through, and there was nothing he loved more than his time alone. and so you left him to himself when he needed you to; you and him both knew it was good for couples to have their own lives and interests outside of each other.

it was one of those days with jisung, where he needed to spend some time with himself to recharge so he could be his best self at work the next day. you didn’t mind, obviously; you were a busy person yourself, and between school and work, there really wasn’t any time for you to let loose with jisung today anyway.

you spent practically the entire morning after breakfast sat on the living room floor and glued to your laptop, fervently typing away on a paper you definitely should’ve started earlier. but if you pushed through it the whole day and only took a few short breaks, you were sure you’d be done by midnight. you were ready to take your first one of those planned breaks to make lunch and eat, but a wave of laziness washed over you. you didn’t feel like cooking at all, not after pouring your brain’s contents into your work for so long. you started convincing yourself you could work through your designated lunch break and just eat a big dinner when jisung came out of the bedroom, bundled up in his puffer jacket.

“I’m going to the convenience store.” he grumbled out, shuffling towards the door.

why didn’t you think of that? you could grab some cheap, prepared food to eat there, while also getting some fresh air on your skin and a little bit of time to spend with jisung. “let’s go together! I need to grab something to eat, too.” you said, rushing to your bedroom to grab your own jacket. you quickly scrambled through your closet, finding your own puffer, before heading back into the living room. when you came back out though, jisung was nowhere in sight. you figured he was just downstairs and hurried to throw on your shoes so he wouldn’t grow impatient waiting for you. if there was one thing jisung hated, it was waiting, you thought to yourself as you skittered down the stairs.

when you got out of your building, jisung was already walking towards the direction of the convenience store, clearly not waiting for you. you ran to catch up with him, a little embarrassed at how he left you behind.

“hey, why didn’t you wait? I literally only took two minutes.” you mumbled, a little bummed out by his attitude.

“I wanna get back to my show, y/n.” he said with an over-exaggerated sigh which made you roll your eyes.

“you’re always so serious about your shows, it’s cute.” you giggled a little, leaning towards him and reaching for his hand. just as you were about to hold it, he briskly tucked his hand into his jacket pocket, keeping his eyes straight ahead and away from you. you coughed a little and turned your face the other direction to hide the humiliating red crawling up your neck and onto your face.

you arrived at the convenience store in complete silence, immediately going your separate ways to grab your food. you grabbed a triangle kimbap for lunch and then a ramen you could make quickly later in the night for dinner. you made yourself an iced coffee too, hoping some caffeine would help you focus in on your work and ignore the tension between you and your boyfriend. you found him already at the counter, putting his things down. you put your things down to the side of the counter so you could search for your wallet. you pat around your pants and then your jacket, but you don’t feel it anywhere on you.

“shit, shit, I forgot my wallet.” you groaned.

"we’re together.” he muttered, pushing your things with his and handing the employee his card. you thanked him quietly, hiding your smile by looking down. there was your jisung, considerate and always looking out for you.

“you forgot your wallet on purpose, didn’t you? y/n, I know you’re on the clingier side, but don’t you think that’s too much?” he huffed as he waited for his card to go through, “I asked for literally one day on my own and you just had to follow me to the convenience store and then you just conveniently didn’t remember your wallet? seriously?” he rolled his eyes.

you were stunned, to say the least. the employee looked at you both awkwardly, coughing a little and turning away so she didn’t embarrass you. but it was too late for that; as he started to put the food in his bag, you yanked him by the arm to turn him to face you. he looked at you, completely bewildered at your aggression. you didn’t care, though---if he got to give you an earful, you should return the favor.

“who do you take me for, jisung? god forbid I forget my wallet while rushing out to catch up with my boyfriend who’s running away from me like I’m some sort of fucking plague,” you seethed, “I haven’t eaten in hours, jisung. I’ve been working my ass off, not once even trying to talk to you. I am not as obsessed with you as you’ve deluded yourself into thinking.” you spat, shoving your food into his arms. “and since you’re so concerned about the what, ten dollars, you had to spend on me? take the food. I just lost my appetite.”

you walked out of the convenience store and away from him in the opposite direction, so you could both hide the tears that you were bound to spill as well as to go anywhere but back to your shared apartment.

you headed to your school, figuring you could finish your paper at the library there. you had already wasted so much time, and an all-nighter was soon going to be inevitable. you also knew you had a limited amount of energy left in you on an empty stomach, hearing it growl as you thought of your situation. you quietly groaned, sniffling as you trudged along. you’d kill to just have your boyfriend comfort you and support you through this grueling assignment, but instead, you were burning with humiliation at being berated by him in front of a complete stranger.

you walked slowly, counting your steps and hoping you’d hear jisung’s heavy footsteps running to catch up with you any moment now. but that moment never came, not even after you’d barely walked half a block in fifteen minutes. you had both, literally, parted ways. and it made you wonder if it symbolized something more than just a small argument.

felix

you were walking backstage to meet your boyfriend, felix, and his members to cheer them on for their final music bank performance of the season. this was a tradition for you; at the end of all of their final comeback performances, you would bring them as well as their staff a well-deserved, expensive meal to end the comeback strongly. it wasn’t burdensome for you; if anything, you were always thankful to them for taking care of felix and you wanted to express your gratitude through feeding them some delicious food.

you walked in clumsily, stumbling a little as the boys’s manager let you past security. you greeted him politely, handing him the food that was meant for him and the staff. you greeted the staff as well, bowing deeply at all of them like you always did; you knew they were practically family to your boyfriend, so you treated them with as much respect as you would his actual family. you turned to their manager again to speak.

“I’ll take the food for the boys in myself.” you let their manager know with a smile. he nodded, thanking you for the food for the millionth time before freeing up the hallway for you to go down. you bowed one last time before heading to the waiting room. as you turned the corner, you saw changbin coming from another direction .

“oh, hey y/n!” changbin waved, immediately grabbing the heavy bags out of your hands. “I just got out of the restroom, let’s head to the waiting room together.” he said, smiling. you nodded, thanking him for his help. you both chatted as you walked down the hallway, catching up on each other’s lives and listening to him explain how excited they were about upcoming plans for the group. you listened with a smile, making a note to bring it up to felix later when you got some time to talk to him in the waiting room.

you made it to the door of their waiting room first, and noticed the door was left slightly ajar. you overheard a familiar voice, chan’s, addressing your boyfriend.

“so how are things with y/n?” you heard chan ask felix. “she should be coming with the food any time now. she’s so sweet.” you smiled at his compliment. you shushed changbin as he caught up with you; you needed to hear what felix would say.

“well...she’s clingy for sure.” he chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve ever dated someone who needed this much attention, hyung.”

you were taken aback. is that what he thought of you? were you just some needy, clingy person pestering him for his attention all the time? you were a little embarrassed, but not nearly as much as you were hurt. you and felix both loved each other’s attention, you couldn’t believe he would say something like that. you gulped, grabbing changbin’s arm and heading backwards to the corner you had just turned.

“y/n, I’ll talk to him.” he said, distressed. you knew changbin, and you knew he would try to fix the situation like the good friend he was.

“no, you won’t. you’re going to tell him I was busy today and only had time to drop the food off. I’ll figure it out later, okay?” you said in a rush, wanting to get out of the building. the whole place suddenly felt suffocating, you couldn’t stand being there, somewhere you clearly weren’t wanted. you didn’t want felix to think you were any more needy than he already thought you were. your insecurities were slowly creeping in on you, and it was distressing.

changbin hesitated but finally relented when you promised you would talk to felix about it when he came home tonight. you practically ran out of the corridor, giving nothing more than a cursory bow and goodbye to the staff and manager, shabbily covering most of your face with your hand to hide that fact that you were on the verge of crying.

you got into your car and let yourself let go. the tears flowed freely, and you had no intention of stifling them. your relationship with felix was the closest thing to perfect you’d ever experienced. you adored how attentive he was to you---he never, not once, missed a birthday or anniversary. he was the first person to congratulate you when you passed your exams, and the first one to comfort you when you didn’t. there was never a moment when you were both home that he wasn’t following you around, trailing you even to the bathroom sometimes just so he wouldn’t be apart from you. you loved it and you thought he loved it, too. and the attention wasn’t one-sided, either---otherwise, you wouldn’t have even come here, arms overflowing with expensive food for practically everyone that interacted with him.

you sighed, satisfied with the release of emotions, and wiped your eyes carelessly. you drove yourself home, not even bothering to listen to the radio or try to calm down from your rush of feelings. you got home, unlocking the door and plodding into your apartment, feet feeling weighed down by how heavy your mood had become. you chugged a whole glass of water; all that crying had made you thirsty---and exhausted. you slid your jacket off and onto the ground before plopping down right there on the couch, not even bothering to change or wipe your makeup off. you didn’t want to do anything except stop thinking about the words your boyfriend had said about you to his friend earlier. you drifted off to sleep just like that, with mascara tears and a broken heart.

seungmin

there were a lot of things that went unspoken between you and seungmin. that was one of the best parts about dating him---you could both show your love for each other in the way you were most comfortable with. for both of you, that happened to be doing things to make the other’s day a little easier.

seungmin took the trash out early in the morning so you wouldn’t have to do the heavy lifting on your own. you made him his coffee before he left. you would order lunch to where he was, whether it be the company building or at the dorm with the boys, in advance so he wouldn’t have to bother with cooking anything. he would stop by during your lunch break at work with your coffee order and a small bite to eat in case you didn’t pack food that day. he has your favorite show ready to play as soon as you’ve washed up after work and you’re always ready to greet him with open arms after a long and tiring day at practice.

you both anticipated what the other needed, and that made you guys always in tune with each other. you’d never even had a serious fight, the worst one being a five-minute quarrel about seungmin buying the wrong shampoo on your grocery list, which was easily resolved by him driving to the store after work and exchanging it for the right one.

tonight, you knew seungmin would come home exhausted. he had practice from sunrise to sunset, with only a short break here and there to eat or use the bathroom. the choreographer for the comeback they were preparing for was one of the best, but she was known for being incredibly detail-oriented (which was, of course, what made her the best), and according to your friend and seungmin’s, hyunjin, she was especially keen on ironing out all the tiny mistakes seungmin was making. she was the reason your boyfriend was exhausting himself for endless hours and the reason he was going to come home tonight like a walking corpse.

you stuck a gatorade in the freezer to chill it quickly, knowing he would need the reminder to replenish himself. you warmed up the food on the stove, laid out his sleep clothes on the bed, and started cleaning up your home so the both of you could head to bed right after you both ate dinner and he showered.

you started putting your hair up and walking back to the living room after washing up yourself when you heard the jingling of keys outside of your front door. seungmin was home.

the door creaked open and seungmin came in, looking pale and drained of life. he didn’t greet you, which you didn’t blame him for---you knew he just wanted to get his rest as soon as possible.

“hey seung, rough day?” you asked gently, earning a passing grumble as he walked straight past you to the bathroom. you sighed, walking to the kitchen to fix him a plate and pulled out the gatorade so he could eat quickly. he could be as moody as he wanted, you weren’t about to let your boyfriend go to sleep without dinner, especially after the hours of choreography he had just gone through.

the water droplets of the shower softly padded against the walls of your apartment for a couple of minutes before it was quickly shut off. seungmin stepped out right after, lazily drying his hair with a towel as he walked straight into the bedroom. you hummed, waiting for him to come back after changing into his sleep clothes. but a couple minutes soon became ten, which soon became fifteen. you got up from the sofa and walked into the bedroom, worried as to what was taking him so long. you found him lying in bed, scrolling through his phone.

“coming to bed?” he mumbled, not looking up from the screen.

“I made dinner and put out some gatorade for you, come eat.” you said, tugging his leg a little as a sign for him to get up.

“not hungry.” he sighed, turning a little in bed.

“come on, seung. I know you and you definitely skipped lunch to practice more. you need to eat well if you want to do your best tomorrow.” you told him firmly but gently so he knew you were serious.

“why are you so pushy, y/n,” he rolled his eyes, “you’re not my mom. I’ll eat whenever I want.”

you cringed a little at his rudeness but persisted. “seungmin, just eat something. and then we’ll go to bed, it’s not that hard. just do it for me?” you asked.

“oh my god, you are so pushy and clingy. please just leave me alone, you don’t need to always be on my ass.” he groaned, turning off his phone, and turning his face into the pillow.

you were bewildered. seungmin knew you were the type to look out for him; if anything, he should be sympathizing with you, considering he would’ve done the same for you after a rough day. his words felt like being slapped, the hurt fresh and confusing. you turned around and left the room.

“where are you going? can we please just sleep.” he whined.

“I’m sleeping on the couch, I do not want to be next to you right now.” you muttered, heading to the living room.

“seriously? dramatic much?” he groaned, “whatever, suit yourself.” he mumbled turning off the bedside lamp to sleep. you sighed, closing the door behind you.

you covered the food you had ready for seungmin before plopping down onto the couch. you pulled the living room throw blanket on top of you and tried to fall asleep. your legs were cramped together on the too-small couch and your neck was in an awkward position that you knew would hurt in the morning but all you could do was accept your fate and sigh. you shuffled a little, closing your eyes tightly. but with seungmin’s words still reeling in your mind, you knew there was no way you would be getting any sleep tonight.

jeongin

jeongin was your best friend as much as he was your boyfriend; teasing and poking fun at each other was a natural part of your relationship. it wasn’t uncommon for you to take light jabs at each other; you both knew not to take it too seriously---or to take it too far.

it was an unusually quiet evening at the dorms. a bunch of the guys had gone out for a drink and dinner, save for jeongin, who stayed back to spend time with you. you guys were sitting on the couch, stuffed to the brim with a bunch of takeout---you had gotten a promotion at work and jeongin was keen on celebrating. jeongin laid down in your lap with a whiny groan.

“remind me to never order food on an empty stomach ever again.” he mumbled into your lap, making you giggle.

“thank you for treating me, baby.” you hummed, running your fingers through his hair.

he shot up to look you in the eyes and smiled sweetly, pulling your face closer to his and kissing you gently.

“ew, jeongin!” you heard felix yell from the door.

“in the living room? our innie’s an adult!” lino laughed.

jeongin practically flew to the other side of the couch. neither one of you had heard the door unlock and open, nor had you seen all the members pile into the room.

“he has a way of surprising people,” you chuckled a little, patting him on the cheek, “I’m gonna go to the bathroom, be right back.” you winked at him as the red on his cheeks only grew brighter from your teasing.

you headed to the bathroom at the end of the hallway, laughing to yourself thinking about the hell the members were probably giving jeongin right now. you quickly used the bathroom and cleaned up your appearance a bit before you headed back. you straightened out your clothes as you walked back. before you turned the corner, you heard jeongin’s voice loudly defending himself to the boys.

“and besides, y/n’s super clingy and needy for attention. she wouldn’t have left me alone until I gave her a damn kiss! leave me alone, you guys are the worst.” he huffed angrily.

“so you’re just going to make shit up about me and blame me for a kiss you initiated? what, so your friends won’t tease you a little? grow the fuck up.” you rolled your eyes, feeling the irritation start to make your skin burn.

he sat there silently, not even bothering to correct himself or apologize. the boys dispersed immediately, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire of your (albeit justified) explosive temper. you scoffed at his immaturity, turning for the door and angrily shoving your feet into your shoes and grabbing your coat off of its hanger.

“call me when you decide to stop acting like a dumb kid who can’t handle his friends seeing him act like a boyfriend to his girlfriend.” you spat. you slammed the front door behind you, still coming down from the adrenaline rush your confrontation with jeongin gave you. it hurt you; how could jeongin of all people make you into a needy, annoying girlfriend? all of that, for what? to save face in front of his friends? you sighed, deciding to just head home to your apartment and call it a night.

#skz angst #skz fanfic #skz fluff #skz headcanons #skz imagines #skz reactions #stray kids #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #stray kids reactions #skz han #skz felix #skz jisung #skz seungmin #skz jeongin #skz i.n #skz scenarios #skz #stray kids headcanons

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sykestarot · 1 year ago

Text

what attracts people to you?

1-2-3 (left to right)

I do not own any of these images

Hi guys I'm back for this weeks reading! Thanks so much for all the love on the other post it really means a lot! I hope these messages resonate as well. Thanks for stopping by yet again! :)

Pile 1

"Just wondering when you said I'm beautiful, was I being lied to?"

(2 of swords (rx); ace of cups; 5 of swords; 4 of swords (rx); queen of pentacles; 2 of cups (rx)) I’m feeling for you pile one that you don’t believe that you’re attractive at all, energetically or physically. Like people would always prefer someone else other than you. Quite literally how the song title is opposite, you believe people are only attracted to the types of people who are opposite of you. Which is so obviously not true because so many people are attracted to you. I don’t know if you think more people value stability over spontaneity. But your cards imply that you are a free spirit and people love that about you. Not only are you a free spirit but you also are hard working. You aren’t one of those people that says they're a free spirit as an excuse to do nothing. I’m feeling that you carry this abundant energy of like “I want it, I got it”. And people just want to stay in that energy. You also have a resilience that people see and it makes them admire you but also want to learn from you. Your energy is truly so beautiful. I see that you might have long hair with beautiful waves to it. Perhaps you’re tan or have a darker complexion. You’re the type of person who loves doing hikes and smelling the fresh air outside. I also see beaches and a boho style to you. Lots of whites and vibrant blues as well. Perhaps you’re Greek or some type of southern European. I see that you also have doe eyes and people find them to be mesmerizing. As well as your smile. I don't know why you don’t think you’re attractive because the vibes I'm getting are that you’re a stunner!! I hope one day you can learn to appreciate the qualities in yourself that others see! Signs : Athens, Greece, kitties, pasta, the smell of pine orange and vanilla, woven hats, big sunglasses, kites, hang gliders?, laughs, melted ice cream, strawberry scents, lip gloss, glitter, flamingos, Sagittarius

Pile 2

"She's got a halo around her finger around you" (The world; 5 of swords (rx); the high priestess; knight of pentacles (rx); 9 of wands (rx); the hierophant) Pile two you are my pile that knows people are attracted to you and use it to your advantage. Which is so real of you but also so slay. And this is not to say that you use your beauty to gain things in a negative way. It’s more like you know the cards that you were dealt and you’d be damned if you didn't use them. I feel like this is my Scorpio pile. Something about you is mysterious and that entices people to want to get to know you better. I feel like you are like a real life siren. The way you speak or the tone of your voice ensares people and draws them right to you. You also have a fated energy or destiny really plays a role in your life. To the point where people want to be in your life because they think they might be able to get some of whatever you have. You might also be witchy and cast spells or work with guides to make things go your way in life. You co create with spirit for sure. I feel like you guys have a contrasting appearance, like pale skin dark hair, or darker skin and lighter hair. I feel like your eyes are piercing like they are hunting prey and people love feeling like they are hunted by you. I see you being very chiseled whether that’s in the body or the face. You have a striking appearance for sure. The kind that people do double takes on the street. You might get a lot of losers who want to talk to you because your energy and appearance are so intoxicating. I also feel like you’re overall just very bold. Perhaps Aries as well? I also feel like anything said in this reading you already know about yourself lol. Signs : Osprey; Seahawks (football); Megan Fox; vampires; red lisp; metal; silver; motorcycles; the twilight saga?; Jennifer’s Body; clubbing; latex; Washington State; black hair; blue eyes

Pile 3

"I know she's gonna break my heart"

(8 of cups; 7 of wands (rx); page of pentacles; the moon; the hanged man (rx); the lovers) You, my pile three, are the heartbreaker, soul stealer, sad girl pile. People are attracted to you because people want to fix you, not necessarily that you need to be fixed to be honest. It’s more in the sense that you don’t care about them more than you care about yourself. It’s like they want to teach how to love or be the one that changes you. Which to me is so funny because it’s not that you don’t know how to love it’s that you don’t love them lmfao. You don’t entertain many suitors or people in general and so when you do give people your energy it’s special. However with how selective you are it makes people want to know more about your inner world. But you come off so nonchalant that people want to get a reaction out of you. You have the potential to feed people’s hero/savior complex if you actually like them back. I also feel like your sense of style is alternative or goth and that’s also what brings people to you. I’m getting retired emo’s or lil peep/suicide boy fans. Perhaps your taste in music also attracts people. I feel like you’re social media and the way you present yourself really gets people wanting to know you more. You’re very mysterious but I'm getting in more of an Aquarius or Pisces way. I feel like you like having dramatic makeup on or you have a very out there style. I keep seeing, like cyber goth or emo. I’m not super well versed in those genres of style so I hope you get it lol. Maybe you have lip rings or eyebrow piercings. Anyways you’re very unique and that’s what attracts people to you. I also feel like you’re always doing cool and new stuff and people are attracted to you because you’re a trendsetter in a lot of ways. Maybe you have a following on a social media platform? Idk I feel like people watch you via the internet. Signs: anime; jjk; tik tok; silver metals; lip biting; rilakuma; pastel pinks; black; stripes; oversized sweaters; skirts and thigh highs; leg warmers; big chunky shoes; platform boots; johnny guilbert?; music holds importance here

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pitchsidestories · 6 months ago

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part of me wants forever II Sara Doorsoun x Barça!Reader

masterlist I word count: 1672

a/n: hi, it's inspired by this request here, we hope the time jumps aren't too confusing. Let us know what you thought of the oneshot.

This was how it all begun. You didn’t expect your love story to start on an ice-cold evening in November after your team has played a Champions League group stage game against Eintracht Frankfurt, but it did.

“Sara, this is y/n. Y/n, this is Sara.”, Ingrid introduced you to each other, her eyes were shining as the stars above you in the night sky. Maybe it was written somewhere up there, what would be happening in the following days, weeks and months.

You knew the person you fell for would say that it was fate which brought you two together. But for you it was Ingrid who did.

“Hi, Sara, nice to meet you.”, you greeted her smiling.

“Nice to meet you too.”, the older defender replied. The brown eyes who wee looking back at you were so beautiful like the person to whom they belonged too, they were something you could get lost into if this wasn’t an away game and you’d have to leave soon to the hotel you were staying at.

“You guys played really well.”, you complimented Sara in an honest tone. It was true, especially in the first half they had a stellar performance, in which Laura Freigang scored the opening goal, but in the second half your team turned it around and you won fairly comfortably with a 3:1.

“Thank you. So did you.. obviously.”, the german player answered with an amused grin on her lips.

“Y/n, we got to hurry up!”, Mapi reminded you impatiently.

“Don’t worry, Mapi. I’m coming.”, you reassured her, trying to shake off her fingers on the hood of your jacket.

“See you soon.”, Sara waved at you.

“I literally can’t wait.”, you told her. Even though you only shared some polite words with each other you had a feeling that this wasn’t the end of your script together.

On the next day your team was on the way home, the bus taking you from the Barcelona airport to the place where your cars have been parked.

“Y/n?”, Ingrid looked up from her phone to turn her attention towards you who was sitting on the seats opposite of Mapi and her.

“Yes?”, you responded, lifting your gaze from the book you were currently reading.

“Sara messaged me.”, the Norwegian informed you, wearing a mischievous smile on her face.

“You mean Sara as in the cute Frankfurt defender.”, you replied innocently.

“Who else, genius!”, Fridolina laughed, sitting right behind you, she and Ingrid had to play with the player during their times in Wolfsburg.

“Do you know how many Sara’s there are?!”, you asked the Swedish player.

“Yes, but none of them looked at you the way she did. So, what was in Sara’s message, Ingrid?”, Fridolina stated.

Ingrids face split into a wide grin as she read the message on her phone screen: “She asked for her number.“

“You know what? You can give her my number.“, you said in a burst of courage that made Ingrid only smile brighter.

“I’ll.“

“Thank you.“

You watched the Norwegian type on her phone. “You’re welcome.“

Sara had immediately texted you that night. And as the months had passed, texting her became a daily habit for you. From good morning to good night, you shared your free-time with her. You haven’t felt that connected with someone for a long time.

One day you decided to jokingly text her about your shared taste in music, not expecting anything from it.

“Fletcher has a concert in Barcelona. You should come with us, Sara.“

“To a Fletcher concert?“, she wrote back, seemingly unimpressed.

“Yes, Jana got tickets.“, you answered.

You waited impatiently, the three dots appearing as she typed.

“I can’t say no to that.“, appeared on your phone screen.

You smiled happily: “Perfect.“

A few weeks after your text conversation, you found yourself at the concert, singing along while Sara had her arms wrapped around you. It was a casual gesture as you swayed from side to side with the rhythm.

Jana rolled her eyes: “Ugh, stop, you two lovebirds!“

“We’re doing nothing!“, you laughed, full of innocence.

“Literally.“, Sara agreed, continuing to move you with her.

Jana pulled out her phone: “Wait, let me at least take a picture of how annoying you two are.“

She snapped a few photos, a fond smirk on her face. You turned your attention back to the singer. This night was perfect and you wanted to enjoy every moment of it.

The Fletcher concert was something you liked to think back to during your busy football season.

The same was true for the biggest game of the season, the Champions League final. As expected, it was a tight game, Lyon made it hard to get through their defense. Only Aitana and Alexia found a way. So when the final whistle sounded, you were overcome with a mix of relief and happiness.

You hugged your teammates tightly, still processing what you had just achieved when Ingrid tapped you on the shoulder and pointed towards the stands. “Y/n, look who came.“

You only blinked at her for a moment before your gaze finally followed the direction of her hand gesture.

Saras face grinned at you from the stands. The sight of her was enough to make your heart pound in your chest.

You left Ingrid standing and ran over to Sara, stopping right in front of the Frankfurt defender: “Sara, I thought you couldn’t be here?!“

She only flashed you a wry smile: “Change of plans.“

“That’s amazing.”, you muttered, exchanging a short, but soft kiss with your girlfriend.

“You’re welcome.”, Sara smirked at you, as she wrapped her arms around you into a hug.

Mirroring the happiness Laura Feiersinger appeared next to her former Frankfurt teammate:” I almost lost her at the place when they sold the cake.”

“Very typical.”, you giggled, it was no secret that your lover has a sweet tooth.

Nervously Sara put a loose string of hair behind her ear:” That’s not true.”

“Sure.”, the Austrian midfielder smiled amusedly.

“It just looked so delicious.”, the German player defended herself, while a blush crept onto her high cheekbones.

“To be fair it did.”, Laura admitted.

“See?”, Sara responded satisfied.

“Well, I do.”, you tuned into their conversation, before your girlfriend kissed you, to celebrate the Champions League win properly.

Having Sara with you during all the chaos which was going on in the night was very special to you. In the morning you two chose to go on a walk to see a bit of the city. It amazed you to watch your girlfriend being so in peace with herself.

The defender was a warm person and over the weeks you’ve been together she started to share some pieces of herself and her history which you found admirable. Her late coming out, a father who wasn’t saying anything against that, but also didn’t like to talk about it anymore.

The heartbreak Sara felt when the first woman she fell for broke up with her. It impacted her so much that during an important game she scored an own goal. And her questioning if she could ever fall in love like that again? The German player knew the answer now, she was capable of loving again, you showed her how.

Fast forward and it was time to be with your national teams again, you both couldn’t wait for the upcoming free days afterwards which you planned to spend together.

“Sara, we got to talk.”, Lena Oberdorf yelled at the older woman who just sat down with Felicitas Rauch in the dining room of the hotel they were staying at.

“About what?”, Sara frowned who didn’t know her best friend in the team knew what the young midfielder was thinking about.

“I was suspecting you fell in love again, but now Obi found proof of it multiple ones.”, the fellow defender who played in the USA explained with a cheeky smile on her lips.

“What are you talking about?”, the Frankfurt player asked her teammates innocently.

“You and y/n, who football wise is so out of your league.”, Lena replied grinning.

“Beauty wise too.”, Felicitas added in a teasingly tone.

“Excuse me? That’s not what friends are supposed to say.”, Sara protested, her mouth formed to a little pout.

Felicitas smiled apologetically: “Just kidding… but playing wise not. She’s at the best football club in Europe!“

“And she and her team won against you this season. Twice.“, Lena added, rubbing salt into the wound.

“I’m aware of that.“, Sara shrugged unimpressed.

“Just a friendly reminder.“, Lena said.

Sara rolled her eyes: “That doesn’t mean we can’t go out.“

“True. I guess she’s the reason you can’t visit me in the US in your free time?“, Felicitas asked, casually changing the subject.

“That’s not true! You’re always busy!“, Sara protested.

Her best friend raised her eyebrows: “So are you apparently!“

“It’s not because of her. I’m still a football player.“, Sara explained, cringing at the thought of how packed both of their schedules were.

“I know that. So when will you introduce me to her?“, Felicitas continued.

Sara only groaned in response.

In the evening, you were on the phone with Sara as she recounted the details of the talk she had with her teammates.

“So they know about us now?“, you concluded, a smile on your lips.

“Yes, apparently we’re on Ingrids photo dump.“, Sara replied with a laugh.

You shook your head about your Norwegian teammate: “Ingrid might have done that on purpose. Sorry for that.“

“Typical.“, Sara sighed, slight fondness for her former teammate sneaking into her voice.

“She said she had a feeling when she introduced us and I believe her.“

“There’s no way!“

You sucked in your breath in feigned shock: “And I thought you were the romantic!“

“Oh, I am. I just like to think that it was fate.“, Sara replied. You could almost hear the wink through the phone.

Lowering your voice, you whispered: “Me too. I want this to be forever.“

pictures are from pinterest.

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insomniactic-daydream · 4 months ago

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Magma- Bakugo x Reader

Bakugo x Support Course Shoto's Twin Sister Reader (Pt.2)

<- (Previous Pt.1)

Bakugo x Support Course Shoto's Twin Sister Reader

Summary: After taking on the responsibility of fixing Bakugo gauntlets, Y/n Todoroki now has to deal with Bakugo nosy ass questions and remarks.

For Background Info: This is before any major events like the usj or sports festival. I don't think anybody know about Shoto's fire quirk til then. Correct me if I'm wrong but idk

Also for story purposes Y/n has black hair and as well as the infamous blue todoroki eyes.

"So your quirk is Nitroglycerin? Are you constantly sweating, or can you control the output? " Y/n questions Bakugo as they are seated away from their classmates at lunch. Bakugo agitated from so many questions. Why couldn't you just fix his shit.

"Tch. Yes, and I can control it, you idiot. But sometimes, the stupid weather makes it harder to produce sweat." He says, grumbling eating his food.

Y/n nods as she writes down a few words in her notebook.

"Do you know what kind of metal was used to make your gauntlets?" Y/n asks.

"HAH? HOW THE HELL WOULD I KNOW!? You're the damn epxert you tell me!" Bakugo yells but is lost through the volume of the cafeteria. Gauntlets are now thrown out to you on the table.

"Jeez, relax. You'd think you would be more cooperative if you wanted them done quickly." Y/n sighs as she examines the shatter gauntlets.

"I'm tired of your damn questions. Maybe you should've gotten your brother's quirk and become a hero. That way, you'd talk less and actually do more!" Bakugo yell. His words were almost comical to you. Assuming you didn't have an impressive quick cause you're a support student.

Y/n not looking away from gauntlets. "You're totally right, but then I'd still have to deal with you constant yelling. At least I don't have to deal with you longer than I have to." She says as she grabs her notebook again.

" WHY YOU LITTLE-"

"It's the metal." Y/n cuts him off nonchalantly. As if she's dealt with his yelps for a millennia. Surprisingly, stopping Bakugo. After all, he's a man of knowledge. The more he knows about his gauntlets, the less he has to deal with coming to you to fix them.

"Continue Nerd." He says with gritted teeth

"The metal they used, although used for most fire type and explosive quirks, isn't compatible with your quirk chemicals. That's why they broke the second you used too much of your sweat." She says taking a bite of her food out of accomplishment.

"So what then huh?! How are you going to fix it."

"Well, obviously need new material which is good considering this metal is known to be heavier than most. Not that you'd noticed cause you're a 'so strong' hero student." Y/n says sarcastically. Bakugo glares at her, but before he can chew her out she speaks again.

"I can look into a different material to make entirely new gauntlets, but that's going to take a while to make. The best I can do for you right now is fix these for training, but you can't blast another nuclear bomb at someone again." She finishes as she fiddles with her pencil

"That shit sound it's going to take ages!?" He says angrily out of the thought of not receiving new gear for the next few months at least.

"Well, luckily, a lava quirk and ice quirk do pretty well with speeding the progress of mending metal then, huh?" Y/n says with a smirk.

"Relax. If I'm getting a grade for this, then I'll make sure you're first priority." Y/n says with a wave of a hand before taking another spoonful of food.

"You have a fucking lava quirk?" Bakugo asks. Although he isn't much as a nerd as his childhood rival he can't help but be curious.

"Yup. It was my grandmother's quirk before the quirk de-evolved into flames." Y/n says

"What a waste. You can easily be better than your brother's ice quirk." Bakugo states almost if he's complimenting you. That sure is a first, but again, Bakugo can't ignore potential people who can be better heroes than him.

"I'm flattered but I don't really care for heroics. I help the world by helping you all. It's more humble that most of the show boat heroes today." She grumbles out.

"So you think you're dad is some show boat?" Bakugo pushes almost trying to gain information (more like drama) on the number 2 hero. Y/n, catching his trick, glares at him.

Bakugo catches a glimpse of red streaks of lava, appearing in your hair. He smirks as he realizes he has striked a nerve.

"I never said that." She says annoyedly. As if she was going to open up about her family dynamic to him.

"Easy there, magma, or your hair is gonna blow a gasket." He says with his signature smirk. His red eyes meeting Y/n piercing blue glare.

His word hit Y/n as fast as her hair turns back. "Shut up," Y/n mutters. She then touches her hair out of habit

This surprisingly lets out a chuckle from the blonde. "Tch. At least I'm not the one who is a walking volcano. Do you always have to cool that shit down?" He asks, earning an eye roll from Y/n.

"Not that's it's any of your business, but yes." She mumbles.

"Hah. I bet you struggle using product on that rat's nest you call hair." Bakugo jokingly lies.

He thinks your hair is fine. Flawless even. Not one out of place hair. But he won't admit that to you. If anything, he's curious to see how long it would take him to see you're hair completely turned into lava. Red suited you.

However, you didn't take that remark lightly and threw a piece of his broken gauntlets at him. Causing him to snap back to reality and hold his head in pain (and also anger obvi)

"As if I'd listen to you, pomeranian!"

(Next Part 3) ->

What can I say, I love a good harmless enemies to lovers trope. 🤷‍♀️

#mha bakugo #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #bhna bakugo #bakugo katsuki

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cakesunflower · 2 months ago

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lovelorn (and nobody knows) [rafe cameron au fic] chapter 7

Summary: Isla Carrera had planned for the summer before college to be focused on three things: helping out at her family’s restaurant (the helpful daughter), preparing for college (the good student), and having fun with the Pogues (the loyal friend). But one fateful night, where her car breaks down and her rescuer is none other than Rafe Cameron, seems to send her summer down a path she didn’t see coming–one teeming with a secret, illicit romance with the last person she expected. And if her friends and sister found out, Isla isn’t sure they’ll be so understanding, no matter what her feelings are.

It was only supposed to be dinner, and Isla had every intention of sticking to that when she agreed to a date with Rafe. But even after a heavy meal, Isla discovered that Rafe has as big of a sweet tooth as she does, which is how they ended up in the kitchen making an ice cream sundae—to share—before bringing it to eat outside. Except instead of returning to their table, they sit on the edge of the pool, bare feet dangling into the inviting water as the boat-shaped dish sits between them.

And Isla, God, she’s having fun.

The conversation with Rafe never falls flat or tapers off into awkward silence. The two of them talk constantly, flowing from one topic to the next seamlessly as they eat the sundae. Isla kicks her feet back and forth lightly in the pool, the view of her yellow painted toenails distorted under the lapping water as she scoops up some more ice cream, drenched in chocolate syrup, and asks, “So you like the campus?”

Rafe nods, the gentle breeze dancing through his hair. They are talking about college, since Rafe is a year ahead of her, and already done with his first year at the same university Isla is starting at in the fall. “Yeah, it’s nice,” he nods, looking down as he scoops some ice cream as well. “There are some great spots to hang out, and some hole-in-the-wall type of places to grab food between classes.”

“Hole-in-the-wall?” Isla repeats with a raised eyebrow and teasing smile. “Didn’t really picture you as someone who’d like those kinds of places.”

As soon as the words are out, Isla feels a stab of guilt for obviously judging him blatantly, but Rafe doesn’t look the least bit insulted by her comment. Instead, he lets out a laugh around the spoon in his mouth, the light in his eyes dancing. “Hey, no one was more surprised than me,” he admits. “But I very quickly learned that those places have the best food.”

Isla laughs, nodding. “Fair enough. What’s your favorite one?”

“Sutton’s Drug Store,” Rafe answers immediately. Her eyebrows flick up, grinning at the lack of hesitation on his part. “They’ve got the best burgers I’ve ever had. It’s also pretty popular with the college students but, yeah, if you like burgers and sandwiches, I highly suggest going there.”

“Maybe you can show me.” She shocks them both by saying this, her smile turning a little shy when Rafe’s slightly surprised eyes meet hers. “Since you’re so familiar with the place.”

“You sure you wanna be seen with me?”

He doesn’t sound accusatory or upset about it, just simply curious, but it makes her chest tighten all the same. Truthfully, the thought of her friends seeing her with Rafe is a little daunting, mostly because Isla knows how they can be. Especially because it’s Rafe, of all people. The history between them is too deep and not all that pleasant for her friends to readily accept. . . Whatever it is that’s happening between her and Rafe.

Licking her lips and tasting the ice cream, Isla drops her gaze to the dish between them, scooping up some melting ice cream onto her spoon as she tells him quietly, “Maybe we take it one step at a time?”

“Hey.” Isla lifts her gaze and bites the inside of her cheek at the softened look in his eyes as he gazes at her, the light of the pool dancing in his blue eyes, somehow making them lighter. “You run the show here, Isla. Whatever you’re most comfortable with, I’m game. I just—” He hesitates and Isla is endeared by the flash of uncertainty as he gazes down at her, reminding her that she’s not the only one that’s probably nervous about this. About them and this whole situation they have found themselves in. “I just wanna see you again.”

Her heart thumps wildly, warmth unfurling in her chest. “You do?”

“Yeah,” he nods, the corner of his mouth curving upwards. “I’d say this was a successful first date, wouldn’t you?”

She did have fun tonight—more than she thought she would. Rafe went through the effort of making their dinner, and he and Isla chatted and laughed together in ways she hadn’t seen coming. As the night went on, Isla felt more and more comfortable in his presence, for once putting the whole Pogues versus Kooks ideals out of her mind and just letting herself enjoy the moment.

Rafe is funny and knows how to carry a conversation, and it’s never one-sided; with every question she asks of him, he returns them to her, looking genuinely interested in wanting to get to know her more. The fact of the matter is, Isla had a lot of fun tonight, and she wouldn’t mind doing this again with him.

“I would,” she answers with a nod and slow growing grin, one that he mirrors and knocks the air out of her lungs. The way he looks at her dries her throat, a hundred thoughts running behind those blue eyes, all of which Isla wants to know desperately. With a breathless chuckle, she raises the spoon and quips, “You’re quite the charmer, Rafe Cameron,” before popping the spoon in her mouth for her last bit of ice cream, legs gently kicking in the water.

She lets it sit in her mouth for a moment, grinning around it as Rafe lets out a laugh. “As long as it gets me a second date,” he muses, which makes her cheeks flush.

Isla giggles; it’s light and a little breathless, but it’s a giggle nonetheless, and when was the last time a guy made her laugh like that? Ducking her head and feeling a little overwhelmed, she puts her spoon down and clears her throat. “It’s getting late, I should head home.”

“Yeah, okay,” Rafe says coolly, and Isla avoids his gaze because then he’d be able to make out the pink in her cheeks as she pulls her feet out of the water and stands up. When she goes to pick up the ice cream dish, Rafe says, “Leave it, I’ll take care of it.”

She hums in acknowledgement and slips her sandals back on, grabbing her purse. She can sense Rafe following after her as they walk back into the house and cross over to the front door. Isla bites her lip when Rafe reaches around her and opens the door, and Isla finally turns to face him, her eyes meeting his pretty blue. “This was fun,” she tells him honestly with a smile. “I. . . We should do it again,” she adds with a new warmth pooling in her cheeks.

Rafe smiles, an excited flash of his eyes accompanying the relief that seems to relax his shoulders. His gaze dips, then, to her mouth, and just when Isla begins to think something is going to happen, he says, “You’ve got a little—”

He gestures to the corner of his own mouth, and the warmth in Isla’s face intensifies with an embarrassed heat when she realizes she’s got something on her face. “Oh, God,” she groans, using the back of her hand to wipe at the corner of her mouth. When she glances at her hand, she doesn’t see anything, but asks Rafe anyway, “Did I get it?”

Amusement dances in his eyes, which somehow manages to lessen her embarrassment. “No,” he says, a smile playing on his lips as his hand lifts. Rafe blinks, pausing, and Isla’s gaze flickers from his hand back to him as he clears his throat and asks, “Uh, can I?”

Isla freezes for a moment, pulse quickening. Despite her surprise, she finds herself nodding, Rafe’s gaze locked with hers and not straying for a second, even as his hand reaches out. The air hitches in her throat when she feels his fingers gently grasp the underside of her left jaw, the briefest of touches eliciting sparks of electricity to shoot throughout the rest of her body and threatening to knock her off her feet. The band of his signet ring is cool against her skin. She notes, in that moment, his blue eyes darkening a bit when his thumb gently rubs the skin next to her lips, not quite at the corner of them but close enough.

It’s oddly, stunningly, intimate. Isla doesn’t even dare to breathe as she peers up at him, his height easily overtaking hers and it shouldn’t be as attractive as it is. His touch is warm, electrifying, and she isn’t quite sure if she’s imagining the space between them lessening while the tension stirs and grows thicker with every passing second.

So slowly, Rafe lowers his hand, her skin already missing the contact, but the lack of space between them remains the same. Isla knows she should go, turn and walk to her car and that will be the end of the date. Yet she still lingers, still hopes a little, maybe. She wonders if he will close the distance, if she will be brave enough to do it herself, and realizes that she really wants Rafe to kiss her. A thrill of anticipation runs through Isla, goosebumps pickling her skin with a thunderous pulse thrumming through her.

She picks up the split second where his gaze dips to her mouth, hope and excitement rising—only for it all to shatter when the shrill ring of a phone cuts through the air.

Isla immediately steps back, heart leaping into her throat and cheeks warming as Rafe’s jaw tightens in annoyance. Disappointment sits heavily on Isla’s chest as Rafe digs his phone out of the pockets of his pants and runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, it’s my dad.”

“No, it’s okay,” Isla rushes, her words slurring together in a hurry as she takes a backwards step out of the house. Rafe’s gaze meets her and Isla tries hard not to notice the longing in his eyes—for her, for the moment they lost. She knows it’s reflected in her own eyes, too, as she flashes him a quick smile. “I should head out, anyway. I’ll, um, see you later.” She steps into the night, the phone still ringing in Rafe’s hand as he watches her, and her smile softens. Despite the disappointment of the lack of kiss, Isla tells him, “Thank you for tonight. It was. . .” She trails off, cheeks pinkening, and she sees Rafe ease a bit at her sudden shyness. “It was wonderful.”

The heat in her face grows, wanting to cringe at her breathless choice of words, but Rafe grins, triumph and a boyish kind of giddiness brightening his features. “Thank you for coming. I—” He glances at his phone before asking her, “Let me know when you get home?”

Isla bites her lower lip, smiling with a nod. “I will. Goodnight, Rafe.”

He leans against the doorway. He still hasn’t answered the call. “Goodnight, Isla.”

When she walks to her car, she can feel Rafe’s gaze on her back, and she’s surprised by the fact that she has to resist the urge to turn back around and kiss him. He stays in the doorway, phone to his ear now, and watches her get into her car, and she grins to herself when she realizes that he doesn’t shut the front door until she’s all the way backed out of his driveway.

On her drive home, Isla blasts the air conditioner to cool her heated skin down, music playing through the speakers and the bass of the song amplifying the thumping of her heart. She drives home in a daze, mostly, as she replays the entire night in her mind once again. The smiles they shared, the conversations that seemed never ending. She’s surprised to find out that she and Rafe have a lot in common; their love for reading—even if it’s different genres—music taste, a healthy fear of snakes, both preferring Nutella over peanut butter. . .

It goes on and on, the things they both like and dislike, and with each revelation, Isla felt like she was discovering a whole new Rafe Cameron that she didn’t know existed before. And she likes him. A lot.

Isla huffs out a quiet laugh, entering her room and shutting the door behind her. She collapses on her bed, staring at the ceiling for three seconds before grabbing a pillow and presses it to her face, before letting out the loudest muffled squeal she can.

*****

“Hey, did you leave the restaurant yet?” Kie asks when Isla answers her phone call.

“Walking out right now,” she says, walking down the path towards the parking lot, hiking up her tote bag that’s stuffed with her work clothes. She had changed into her bathing suit, crop top and shorts in the bathroom before clocking out of her shift. “Why?”

“Can you pick JJ up from work?” Kie asks. “He caught a ride this morning from one of his neighbors, I think. Something about his bike not starting.”

“Are you already at John B’s?” Isla asks as she unlocks her car.

Kie blows out a breath. “Yeah, I didn’t know he’d need a ride or I would’ve waited before leaving.”

Isla grins as she starts the car. “Aw, you’re such a nice girlfriend.”

“Shut up,” her sister hisses, making Isla burst into laughter. She loves teasing Kie, especially when it comes to her feelings for JJ. It’s Isla’s duty as her sister, really, to tease and tease until Kiara and JJ do themselves a favor and get together. “I’ll see you later.”

The drive to the country club is only ten minutes, and as Isla is pulling into the parking lot, she passes by two parked motorcycles—one of which is very familiar. Her pulse quickens when she recognizes Rafe’s bike, tongue pressing to her cheek as she parks her car a few spaces down. She sits in the car for a few seconds, gripping the steering wheel tightly as she debates her next decision, staring out of the windshield and right at the white building ahead.

“Fuck it,” Isla mutters to herself with a skipping heart beat, killing the engine and jumping out of her car.

The afternoon sun is warm but not too harsh, perfect for a boat and swimming day, which is why Isla is here to pick up JJ. She and the Pogues are taking out the HMS Pogue around the water, and Isla is itching to jump into the cool water. But right now, she crosses the parking lot and heads inside the club, shivering slightly under the cool blast of the air conditioner once she steps through the door.

There’s a muted hum of chatter as she walks down the wide hall, heading towards the outdoor patio area of the restaurant and bar that she knows JJ is working. As Isla walks, her gaze casually wanders, trying—hoping—to catch a glimpse of the guy she hasn’t been able to stop thinking about since their date two days ago.

It hasn’t been radio silent since then between them, either. They had been messaging on Instagram, just random conversations that never felt forced, until Isla finally sent him her phone number, and then they went from private messaging to texts. Funnily enough, it felt like a step forward in the right direction, bringing a new sense of excitement in this new development.

When she steps out onto the patio, shooting a friendly smile to Ariana, the hostess, Isla’s gaze travels around in search of JJ—but it too easily snags on another blonde boy sitting at a table towards the railing that overlooks the water. Isla takes in a quiet breath at the sight of Rafe, sitting at a square table with Topper and Kelce sitting opposite of him, but her attention is solely on him.

Sunglasses cover those blue eyes, the breeze making the longer strands of his hair framing his temples dance gently. He’s in a simple black and gray striped shirt and black pants, leaning back in his chair like he doesn’t have a care in the world as he talks with his friends. Before, Isla had the same mindset as her friends, where when she’d see Rafe, she only saw an air of arrogance around him in the way he carried himself. As though he thinks he is above everyone else, which is easy to believe given that he’s a part of the richest family in the Outer Banks—possibly in all of North Carolina.

But maybe Isla was wrong to think that. Maybe it’s his confidence and charm that is often misconstrued as arrogance. The conversations Isla has had with him so far don’t particularly give her the vibe that he’s the arrogant asshole her friends believe him to be.

Isla wants to dive headfirst into the idea that she had just misunderstood him, but despite their fun date and her desire to kiss him, touch him, she still hesitates. What if it’s a facade? What if he’s just pretending?

Then again, what does he get out of that? What does he get out of pretending to like her and want to be with her? Some kind of prank to humiliate her? Could he be that cruel and callous?

She’s not sure. Her stomach knots up, the feeling far too unpleasant. And it’s that moment when Rafe’s head turns just so, and despite him wearing sunglasses, her body tingles with sudden awareness, and she knows that he’s looking right at her. Isla swears the corner of his mouth lifts in a smile, her skin warming in immediate response as she bites back a foolish smile, though her lips still tug upwards of their own accord. It’s like the two of them are sharing a secret from either side of the patio, one that is just theirs to keep.

Just then, movement catches her eyes, and her gaze slides from Rafe to JJ cleaning up a table a few away from Rafe’s, and when her friend’s head lifts, the smile is immediately wiped off of Isla’s face. All thoughts slip from Isla’s mind, stomach dropping when she notes the black eye that JJ is sporting. “JJ,” she breathes out, hurrying around the tables to approach him. He senses her, eyes meeting hers, and she sees the way his lips purse when he takes in the worried look widening her eyes. “JJ, what happened?” Isla asks once she gets to him.

Her first concern is if her friend is okay and, selfishly, her second concern is hoping that Rafe isn’t the one who hurt JJ. Her friends and Rafe have gotten into quite a few physical fights over the years, and Isla knows it’s self-centered to hope that Rafe wasn’t the one who gave JJ that black eye. She also knows that she isn’t really giving Rafe the benefit of the doubt by even connecting him to JJ’s injury, especially after their date. But her worry has her jumping to the worst case scenario as JJ sighs, gripping the rectangular bucket he’s loading the dirty dishes into.

“I’m fine, Isla,” he assures her, a hint of resignation leaking into his voice. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” she repeats, eyes wide as she tries to keep her voice low. The patio isn’t too busy, but there are still some guests around, and for JJ’s sake, Isla doesn’t want to create a scene at his place of work. But his left eye has a purpling ring around it, the skin under the eye slightly swollen as pinkish-red discoloration taints his temple by the eye. More quietly yet no less intensely, she demands, “What the hell happened?”

Isla braces herself for his answer, tongue pressing to the back of her teeth as she watches him intently. She sees JJ struggle to answer, the muscle in his jaw jumping repetitively as the conflict wars in his bright blue eyes. The one that’s bruised is slightly bloodshot and the sight of it has Isla’s chest tightening painfully, her concern drying her throat out. JJ is her best friend—she’s probably closer with him than the rest—and seeing him in this state is like a punch to the gut.

And maybe he sees that there’s no easing her worry by just dismissing the topic, so he lets out another breath, gaze cutting away from hers as he tells her, “My dad happened.”

Isla’s eyebrows furrow together, eyes still wide as bewilderment has her shaking her head. “Wait, your dad? I thought he was in jail?” Hadn’t Kie said he’d be locked up for six months?

A sardonic smile tugs at JJ’s mouth, just barely hinting at a dimple. “There was a riot, he used it to his advantage and escaped.” Isla’s eyes widen even more, if possible, as disbelief and fear for JJ stiffens her muscles.

“And the first place he went to was your house?” Isla asks. “Weren’t the cops looking for him?”

“They were too busy getting shit under control,” JJ says, picking up a glass from the table and putting it in the bin he’s holding, the glasses clinking together. “But he left after. . . After,” he shrugs. “Don’t know where he went, but didn’t leave without a parting gift.”

Isla shakes her head, her eyes looking over him. “Jesus, JJ,” she whispers. She hates that he has to deal with this, that he has to have a dad as shitty as Luke Maybank. All that guy does is waste money he doesn’t have, get drunk, and beat on JJ. There's a damn good reason JJ is never home, and has a semi-permanent room at John B’s place.

Her hand reaches out, fingers gently grasping his chin and turning his head. He lets her, as this is nothing new between them, and she lets out a heavy breath. “Does it hurt? Did you ice it?”

“Yeah, I did,” he mutters, a hand grasping her wrist and putting her hand down. “Stop fussing. I’m fine.”

She shoots him a flat look. “Do the others know?” When he stays stubbornly silent, Isla shakes her head again. “You know they’re gonna wanna know.”

“I don’t need them worryin’ about this shit,” JJ says with a roll of his eyes. With a one shouldered shrug, he says, “I’ll just say one of those shitheads did it. They’ll believe it and leave it alone.”

He nods towards his left and Isla doesn’t even have to look over to know who he gestured to. But she does, anyway, and her gaze lands on Rafe. He still has his sunglasses on, but Isla feels that same prickle of awareness that tells her he is watching her—and has been, probably for the entire length of her conversation with JJ. Rafe’s lips are in a thin line and Isla has been around Rafe long enough throughout the years to know that he doesn’t look happy behind those sunglasses.

But she can’t focus on that right now, not when JJ’s words ring in her head. There’s an urge to come to Rafe’s defense, not wanting JJ to stir the pot when things have been relatively peaceful between her friends and Rafe. Isla’s stomach tightens, getting the dreaded sense of being a traitor—the only problem is, she’s not sure who she’s betraying with the conflicting feelings that are bubbling up inside of her. She knows Rafe couldn’t have heard her and JJ’s conversation, yet guilt still threatens to bloom.

“Come on, JJ,” she says, half laughing and half huffing in exasperation. “You don’t think news about Luke is gonna spread and they won’t find out? They’ll connect the dots and you know it.” She arches an eyebrow when JJ presses his lips together. “Just tell them.”

He’s silent for a few seconds and Isla tries to prepare another argument in case he doesn’t want to listen to her. But then JJ surprises her by exhaling heavily and saying defeatedly, “No secrets among Pogues, right?”

Isla feels beyond hypocritical as she forces a smile at JJ’s words. “Yeah, exactly,” she agrees with a nod, nervously hiking the strap of her bag higher up on her shoulder. Swallowing through the discomfort tightening her throat, she says, “Come on. The others are waiting at the Chateau.”

JJ nods. “Let me drop this off at the kitchen and change.” He walks around her but doesn’t leave before asking, “Why’d you walk in? You could’ve texted me.”

“Um,” Isla says, eyes widening because he’s behind her now as she scrambles her brain for an excuse. “My mom thought she forgot her Apple watch in her locker,” she lies, turning to shoot JJ a smile. “I went to check but no dice.”

He clicks his tongue. “Bummer. Alright, I’ll be back in ten,” he says before heading inside.

Isla watches him go, chewing on her bottom lip as he disappears inside. Once he’s gone, her shoulders slump, fingers running through her hair as she shuts her eyes and blows out a breath. She hadn’t realized how tense her body got throughout her conversation with JJ—particularly when he had brought up Rafe. It’s not lost on Isla how quickly she jumped in to defend Rafe without JJ knowing about it, even if Isla had wrongfully assumed and dreaded that Rafe had been the one to give JJ a black eye.

“Everything okay?”

Isla jumps at the sound of Rafe’s voice, as if she conjured him from her thoughts, spinning to face him. “Whoa,” he says, chuckling slightly as he takes a step back. He raises his eyebrows, though Isla sees the concern in his eyes. “You okay?”

Isla glances behind him, seeing Topper and Kelce watching them from their table. Isla’s not sure if she likes that, but she looks back at Rafe, and something inside of her softens at the worry in his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, all good,” she reassures with a nod. “Just, uh, worried about JJ.”

“Yeah,” Rafe says, his gaze flickering over her head in the direction JJ had gone. “That looked like a nasty black eye.”

Isla nods, lips rolling into her mouth as she hums. “Mhm.” Her gaze drops, looking down at her sneaker clad feet, a little too pointedly avoiding Rafe’s gaze.

She grips the strap of her bag tightly, feeling the weight of Rafe’s eyes on her, silent until he starts, “Wait. . .” Isla reluctantly lifts her gaze and sees Rafe frowning, a calculating look churning in his blue eyes that has her pulse quickening. He once again glances over her head before looking back at her and asks, “Did you think I did that to him?”

Isla’s eyes widen, stunned that he seems to have figured out her shameful thoughts so easily. She wants to laugh it off and dismiss it, but the air knocks out of her lungs when she sees a confused frown on his face turn into one of hurt, pulling back from her, and that subtle act has her stomach knotting up in total discomfort.

Her expression is answer enough to Rafe’s question, and she watches as his lips curve up and a sardonic laugh escapes him, hand coming up to cover his mouth, gaze darting away. The hurt is obvious in the sound of his empty laugh, and it in turns makes Isla hurt, knowing that she’s the reason for it. “Come on, Isla,” Rafe mutters, huffing out a breath.

“I’m sorry, I—” she hastily speaks, voice a whisper. “Can you blame me? It’s not like this hasn’t happened in the past—”

“Yeah, in the past,” he cuts her off, his own voice low but sharp. She presses her lips together at the way he looks at her, eyebrows pulled together but not quite a glare. Just disappointment and hurt that he’s struggling to hide, and Isla’s throat bobs, already regretting her words. “After this weekend, do you really think I’d turn around and do that to him? I haven’t gotten into it with your friends in a while, Isla. Are you serious?”

Isla takes in a sharp breath, pulse quickening as she tries to de-escalate this situation as it gets away from her. She wants to tell him that she talked JJ out of blaming Rafe anyway for the black eye, but the words don’t come out—not in the face of the look he’s giving her. When she can’t come up with anything to say that could possibly make this better, Rafe shakes his head.

“Alright,” is all he says, gaze cutting away from her as he turns and walks back to his table, hand rubbing the back of his neck as he goes.

She watches him go, a lump in her throat borne of guilt, ignoring the curious and confused looks from Topper and Kelce. Isla hesitates, wanting to smooth things over with Rafe right away because, honestly, her skin prickles with the idea of making him upset. A month ago, Isla wouldn’t have cared, not really. But right now, it worsens the knots in her stomach, overwhelmed with the urge to talk to him and smooth things over, except JJ suddenly calls her name, and she tears her gaze away from Rafe, who returns to his seat, and looks over at JJ waiting for her. Isla takes a step towards him, but her gaze slides back to Rafe, who is pointedly ignoring her. She lets out a heavy sigh, knowing this is her own doing, yet still lamenting how she went from thinking about their date to this.

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