#also they were dressed in store i think all three of them

[thecherrygod]

I think i dreamt something that was happening in a place that we partially a mall, farm, and motel, and with three killers (one guy two girls) that all worked at the same place bit that both just thought of each others as friends and also wanted to kill each other, do every time one went on a rampage the others had to join forces to survive, but usually all three of them ended up alive. The fights were very anime and very bloody, with knives and anything that had a sharp edge, and every time their fights ended they needed to send some sort of cleaning crew but also they were a bit dismissive like "yeah yeah this is a med de it'll be clean later" and would either sit down and eat or go have some smokes. By the end one of the girls actually killed the guy (after fighting in the hotel and mall parts of the building), the other one was sorta sad bit not really bc she also wanted to kill him even if they were all so tied together and actually cared for the others, so they also took a break later on and then i woke up

[submattsmxmmy]

Dead dove: do not eat 💖 Hiii, it's @ariestrxsh and this is my secondary account. Here is my contribution to kinktober. I know the Ghostface trope has been done so many times, but I figured it would still be a fun little smut to write in honor of Halloween.

👻🎀 content warning: smut, degradation, predator/prey dynamic, restraints, knife play, blood play, ghostface!matt, ghostface!chris, slutty!reader

👻🎀 author's note: idk if this would be considered a dead dove: do not eat fic, but it certainly contains some rather dark material, so i'd rather label it that way to be safe. also, my reader's slutty nun outfit may offend you if you're religious, so please scroll and don't read if it's going to upset you.

👻🎀 summary: you're throwing a halloween party at your house in a remote area. the night becomes like a thrilling, real-life horror movie after your friends, matt and chris both show up dressed as the infamous ghostface.

masquerade

"What are you guys going as tonight?" You asked Nick, Matt, and Chris as the four of you aimlessly wandered around the Halloween store that was littered with all the decor you could dream of for the party you were throwing later. You'd done most of your holiday shopping a few weeks prior, but you just needed a few final touches to complete the vibe you were going for.

"I'm going as Stu Macher," Nick responded, fiddling with some tacky Halloween decoration. "I'm going as Ghostface," Chris confidently replied, and your gaze softened as you pictured him in one of those sexy masks.

"Hey, what the fuck, Chris? I'm going as Ghostface," Matt slugged Chris in the arm. Your breath caught in your throat, and your lips fell open as you pictured them both in the Ghostface costume. "Relax. That'll make it more fun. Then no one will know who's who," Chris smirked. "People already have a hard time telling us apart," Matt rolled his eyes.

"What are you going as?" Nick asked you, ignoring his brothers. "Well, I'm going to be the only one out of the four of us who isn't going as a Scream character. But it's going to be a surprise," you told them, wandering over towards a giant cauldron that caught your eye.

"What are you going to use that for?" Matt asked. "Punch bowl! Isn't it perfect?" You asked, picking it up and cradling it in your arms as the four of you continued through the store. "Can you at least give us a hint about what you're going to dress up as?" Chris playfully poked you in the side.

"All I can tell you is, it's gonna be sexy, and you're gonna thank God when you see me in it. I'm trying to get laid tonight," you proudly stated as the four of you headed over to the checkout counter to pay.

Nick, Matt, and Chris dropped you back off at your place, which was out in the middle of nowhere, so you could finish setting up, and so they could change into their costumes. You thought it was fitting you lived in a secluded part of your town's national forest and didn't have any neighbors for miles.

You'd just finished putting out the last of the decorum when people started trickling in. You had fake spiderwebs strewn in every corner, a smoke machine, and a black light.

You were just thinking about how excited you were for the boys to see you in your glowing slutty nun outfit when the doorbell rang, and as you pulled open your creaky front door, you saw Nick covered in fake blood accompanied by a pair of Ghostfaces, the whites of their masks lit up by the black light. "Look at you!" Nick gasped as you gave them a twirl. Chris and Matt's eyes were immediately drawn to your exposed chest and your bare thighs.

"Please, Mr. Ghostface, don't kill me!" You jokingly shrieked, placing your hands on your cheeks and making a fake surprised face. "You look really good," one of them said to you. "So do you guys," you seductively replied, nibbling on your lower lip and looking at the three of them, but especially Matt and Chris. You had a bit of a thing for masked men.

They shuffled into your house, admiring the way you had decorated. More guests started arriving, and the party started to really take off. Nick started hitting it off with a guy you worked with who was dressed as a skeleton, which left you, Matt, and Chris alone.

"You guys wanna scare Nick tonight?" Matt asked menacingly, tilting his head in his ghostface mask, which had no business being as hot as it was. You bit your lip at him.

Chris could tell you were entranced by the costume. "Like the mask, sweetheart?" Chris asked in a deep, menacingly voice that was strikingly familiar to that of the original Ghostface, taking his 'prop' weapon and running the edge along your cheek, but the metal was sharp and cold. "Shut the fuck up. Oh my god, is that a real knife?" You asked him, staring wide-eyed at it.

"Yeah, why does that scare you? Or do you like it?" Chris said in a spooky voice. You narrowed your eyes at him. "Neither. You guys are so immature. Have fun scaring Nick. I'm gonna go enjoy my party and try to find someone to hook up with. Try not to cut anyone with that thing."

You rolled your eyes at them and pushed past them, trying to hide the effect they were having on you. Both sets of eyes traveled to your ass as you walked away. "Why don't we play a prank on her instead?" Matt inquired. "Yeah, she could use a little loosening up," Chris responded.

You couldn't deny that the way Chris had put that blade up to your cheek while he was dressed like that was having a rather strong effect on you, an effect so strong that you desperately wanted to turn back around, grab them by their solid black robes, and beg them both to rail you while they wore their Ghostface attire.

You'd always found them both attractive, but they were your good friends, and most nights that the sexual thoughts about them creeped into your psyche, you were able to will it away, or something you'd never admit out loud to - sometimes you'd just take care of the aching between your legs really quickly, and the thoughts would usually dissipate on their own, but tonight was different.

You could feel a damp warmth between your thighs as you sauntered off in another direction to greet some of your other friends, but even as you asked them how the party was and tried to get your mind off of the Sturniolo boys, you found yourself peeking over your shoulder, stealing glances at them, and losing your inner battle with yourself to fight off your urges.

It had been so long, and you were so horny.

"I think that guy over there is checking you out," your friend who had animals ears on nudged you and glanced off in the direction of the punch bowl you'd bought earlier. Your eye caught a tall man with zombie makeup on that you didn't recognize grabbing himself a cup of spiked punch, his gaze flicking up at you every few seconds. You thought he was kind of cute.

"Go talk to him," your friend urged you, lovingly squeezing your arm. You took one more glance in the direction of where Matt and Chris had been standing just moments ago, seriously considering trying to pursue one of them instead, but when your eyes scanned over the crowd, you didn't see either one of them. You'd missed your chance.

"Okay, fine," you whispered to your friend, rolling your eyes and working up the courage to approach him. You took a deep breath and headed in his direction.

"Hey, do I know you?" You asked, grabbing yourself a red solo cup and serving yourself some alcoholic punch. "You know, some would say your costume is offensive," he said, ignoring your question and motioning towards your exposed breasts in your very ungodly outfit.

"Then why don't you rip it off of me?" You flirtatiously shot back. He looked unamused with you.

"Hey, so, what's the deal with your friend?" He asked, taking a sip of his drink and his gaze looking past you to where you were previously standing. "Oh, my friend," you said in a slightly disappointed tone, realizing you'd just approached and been very forward with a man who had been interested in the girl standing next to you the whole time.

You started back off in the direction you came from, and your friend glanced over at the embarrassment in your expression. "What happened? Was he a dick to you?" She asked, concern in her eyes while she cradled your face. You could understand why he was looking at her instead of you.

"No, nothing like that. If you think he's cute, you should go talk to him. I'll be right back," you responded, feeling your face get hot. You pushed past a crowd of people to get to the bottom of your staircase, and you hurried up the steps before your tears could fall.

It wasn't so much that you were upset about not getting the guy. You weren't even that interested in him. It was a combination of a few things, really.

It was the humiliation of misreading the situation, the insecurity you felt about not being as pretty as your friends, and the constant self-doubt you had about whether you really were a slut like everyone called you and if any guy would ever want you again because of it.

Through your teary vision, your bedroom door caught your eye. You stopped dead in your tracks, sniffling and wiping away your tears as alarm bells went off in your nervous system.

Your bedroom door was wide open, and you swore you'd shut it before the first few guests had arrived. You walked through the door frame cautiously, overwhelmed by a sensation of having eyes on you, studying your surroundings to see if anything else was out of place.

You shrugged off the feeling of being watched, chalking it up to the fact that it was Halloween, and you had been watching a lot of thriller and horror movies in the couple weeks leading up to your party.

You made your way over to the bathroom sink, setting down your red solo cup on the cold countertop and peering at your reflection in the mirror. You didn't want to spend Halloween night sulking in your bathroom while your two hot best friends were downstairs, strutting around in their sexy Ghostface attire and probably finding other girls to sleep with.

You cleaned off the eyeliner that was smudging on your bottom eyelid, glued the corner of your eyelash back down, and readjusted your breasts in your costume.

After fixing the imperfections with your wardrobe, you decided you weren't going to let the night end without taking a stab at trying to have sex with whichever one of the Sturniolo brothers you saw first, excluding Nick of course. You were done pretending like you weren't completely taken with them.

Your gaze flickered over to the reflection of your partially open closet door in the mirror. Again, you could have sworn you'd left it closed. Filled with dread, you slowly tiptoed out of the bathroom, past your bed, and over to your closet. You rested your hand on the round, metal door knob and slowly pushed it shut.

You realized how ridiculous you were being, rolling your eyes at yourself and letting out a sigh at how jumpy you'd been lately. You turned back around and started to head out of your bedroom when all of a sudden, you heard the sound of the closet door creaking open again.

Before you could spin yourself around and identify the threat, you felt a gloved hand cover your mouth and a cold, sharp blade resting against your neck. "What's your favorite scary movie?" The way his voice came through sounding just like Ghostface had you both scared and turned on.

Your eyes rolled back in your head, and you let out an audible moan against his palm, causing him to pull his hand back. "What was that?" Chris accusingly asked, speaking like himself again. "What the fuck? How do you make your voice sound like that?" You asked in a shaky voice.

He chuckled in your ear, avoiding your inquiry. "Answer me first. What was that sound you just made?" Chris posed the question again. "Nothing. Real funny, Chris. Let me go," you responded.

Another figure appeared in the corner of your eye as Matt walked around in his Ghostface costume, shutting your bedroom door closed. Your heart dropped as you watched him lock it and make his way back over to you. "Let you go? Are you sure you want that?" Matt cooed, running the back of his gloved hand along your cheek and tilting his head down at you. You gulped.

"Is this turning you on?" Chris whispered into your ear. "Gross," you rolled your eyes. "Only one way to find out," Matt menacingly replied. "Why don't you check her, Matt?" Chris smirked under his mask.

Your mouth fell open, and a strangled whimper came through as Matt reached between your legs, lifting up your skirt and slipping his fingers into the waistband of your panties. Immediately, he felt the wetness leak through his glove.

"Oh, she's soaked. Her clit practically has its own heartbeat," Matt relayed to his brother, drawing circles on it with his fingers and talking about you as if you weren't in the room with them. "I bet she'd like it if we took care of that. Don't you think?" Chris wondered, dragging the blade across your collar bone and between your partially exposed breasts.

You couldn't hold back your delighted sounds as they both put their hands on you. It was like a dream come true. Your prayers had been answered. You'd fantasized about them each separately, but the idea of having them both take you on at the same time didn't even seem like an option until now.

"What's turning you on so much? The mask? The knife? The fact that it's me and Matt?" Chris cooed at you, pulling your top down to reveal your tits. He took the knife and started running the sharp edge against your nipples that stiffened at the touch. You immediately shuddered and let out a whimper.

"All of it?" Matt wondered, continuing to play with your pussy that was becoming wetter by the second. "Answer him, slut. What's got you all wet, hmm?" Chris growled into your ear. Of course, it hurt your feelings to be called that, but there was something about the way Chris said it so endearingly that it didn't seem like he was trying to do anything other than turn you on, and it was working.

"Nothing, it's completely unrelated," you lied, biting your lip to hold back another moan, but your attempts failed, and your head fell back against Chris' chest. You felt his hard cock against your backside, and it twitched at the way you struggled to keep yourself composed. "Yeah, mine's unrelated, too," Chris replied sarcastically, staring down at your tits as he continued to tease them with his knife.

You felt Matt's fingers slip into your hole as he started to fuck you with them. "You want us to stop?" Matt asked. You nibbled on your lip and softly shook your head no. "That's what I thought. She's such a little slut," Chris said to his brother. "Don't you know it's always the slut who dies first?" Chris rasped into your ear.

"Oh, she likes that," Matt cooed, feeling your pussy start to throb around his fingers. You tried to hide your reactions, but your body language couldn't keep your secret from the two pairs of Ghostfaces who manhandled you.

"You still never told us your favorite scary movie," Chris pointed out. "Blair Witch Project," you hesitantly answered. "Mmm. That's a scary one. Especially when you live out here," Matt replied. Chris leaned over to Matt and whispered something in his ear that you couldn't quite make out.

"Lay on the fucking bed, slut," Chris responded as they both let you go. "We're gonna go have a little chat in the other room, and you're gonna lay right here and behave," Matt ordered you. "And if you try to run, you're gonna be really sorry," Chris said, waving the knife in your direction.

They both disappeared behind your bathroom door. You heard the sound of Chris and Matt arguing behind the wooden barrier about who was going to have their way with you first, but you had another idea.

When they both emerged from the bathroom, you were gone, and on your nightstand was a note that read: "come find me in the woods, mr. ghostface. xoxo, your prey" with a heart drawn below the lettering.

"Oh, that sneaky bitch thinks she can be in charge of her own fate. We're gonna have fun with her tonight," Chris told Matt as he picked up the note.

They both disappeared out of the room, down the stairs, and out the backdoor towards the dense treeline behind your house with a flashlight Matt had snagged off your kitchen counter.

All they had to do was listen quietly for a few minutes beneath the blanket of stars and clouds, and then they heard you, crushing twigs and leaves under your weight as you tried to stealthily make your way through the forest.

All of a sudden, you were lit up by the flashlight Matt held in hands. "Gotcha," he said in a menacing voice. You froze and stared at them both, unable to move a muscle. "Think you're so slick, huh?" Chris asked in a low, sexy rasp.

"You know what would make this so much more fun? If she had to guess who's who while we take turns fucking her," Matt suggested, taking a few steps towards you. "And if she guesses wrong, we'll make her bleed," Chris laughed, closing in on you as well.

You'd never seen this side of the two brothers, but it excited you more than you were willing to admit.

You started slowly walking backward until you backed into a tree, and you swallowed hard as you felt its rough trunk under your palms, realizing you didn't have anywhere to go.

"Please, Mr. Ghostface. Spare me!" You whined, but you couldn't hold back your smirk as Matt pulled the knife out of his robe and cut your costume from your body. You gasped as the fabric fell the floor in front of your feet. You'd never imagined your night would go like this. In fact, this was hotter than anything you could have ever dreamt up.

"We told you that you'd regret running." It was that same ominous, threatening, and sexy voice that Chris had used earlier in the night, so that must have been him. "I thought we told you to behave," said the other, sounding just like the first one. Fuck, you thought.

You watched as the boy with the knife started to cut a hole in his robe, and your eyes widened, and your jaw fell open as you realized what he was doing. You watched as his dick poked through the black fabric, staring you down. He handed off the knife to his brother.

"Since you like to run, one of us is going to have to hold you still," the second one said pinning your wrists above your head with one hand with the other, he held the blade up in front of your face. You saw yourself in the reflection of the sharp metal accompanied by the man in the Ghostface mask beside you, and it sent goosebumps across your flesh.

He closed the distance between the weapon and your breasts, and he started tracing your nipples again with the knife's edge. Your chest rose and fell as your breath quickened. You peered at the boy who was settling between your legs, grabbing ahold of his big, veiny cock with his gloved hand as he started pumping it back and forth a few times, making sure it had reached its full potential.

He hiked up your leg, wrapped your thigh around his waist, and pulled your panties to the side before sinking it into your heat and stretching you out. "So tight," he groaned deeply, feeling the way you gripped his dick. You let out a few loud moans as you adjusted to his size, taking every inch of him.

"That's it. Take it like the slut you are," he gruffed, picking up the pace and wrapping his gloved fingers around your neck. "Like that?" The boy who was holding your wrists cooed as he dragged the sharp object across to your other peak.

You loved the way both Ghostface masks reflected your fear back at you as well as your pleasure, their empty eyes, and their contorted mouths, taunting you. You glanced back at the brother who was between your legs, focusing on his thrusts. His fast and powerful thrusts.

Every time he bottomed out in you, a desperate mewl escaped your lips, filling the atmosphere. The masked man started to mimick the sounds that poured from your mouth while his brother fucked you, and you adored every second of it.

You loved the way they were feeding your sick fantasies, holding you at knife point, wearing their sexy costumes, and fucking you dumb while they degraded you. Your sounds became louder, more urgent, and less inhibited. You could feel the intensity building.

"Scream for me, bitch," the man between your legs chuckled. His mean words, his hand around your throat, the movement of his hips, and the cold, sharp metal dancing across your skin were enough to cause you to snap.

You hit the point of no return, clenching around the mystery man's rod, sending him to the same fate shortly after. You could feel his twitching cock filling you up as your orgasm took its course, the two of you moaning in unison while you finished together. Your legs grew weak as you came.

"Oh my god, Chris. Matt. Whoever you are," you breathlessly panted. You thought for sure you'd be able to tell them apart by now, but you had no idea, and you found it all the more enticing.

"Such a good girl for me," he cooed, slowing down his thrusts, pulling out, and watching his seed flow out of you. He stared down in awe at the mess he made, taking in the sight and savoring it while his breathing pattern returned to normal.

"I've been waiting for this," the boy to your left said as he switched places with his brother. He took the knife, hooking it into your panties and slicing the delicate material, watching the fabric fall to the ground and revealing your pretty pussy to him.

Then he cut a hole in his robe like his brother had done, and you peered down at his gorgeous cock poking through the tear in the material.

He roughly pried open your legs, guiding them open with the blade. He dug into the inside of your right thigh with his gloved hand and rested the knife on your lower stomach. You couldn't keep yourself from admiring his big, throbbing dick, and you sharply inhaled as you felt him slip his tip into your entrance.

"Oh, fuck," he moaned as he bucked his hips forward, his entire length vanisihing into your tight hole. Your eyes flicked back up to his Ghostface attire, taking in the incredible view of being fucked by a man in such a sexy mask.

The man beside you restrained your wrists, pinning them above your head again. "Alright. Time to guess. Who am I?" The boy beside you asked in his creepy Ghostface voice, tilting his head at you as he tightened his grip. You innocently peered up at his mask, searching for some kind of hint in his demeanor.

"Chris, is that you?" You asked uncertaintly. "Wrong. Remember what happens when you guess wrong?" Matt cooed, running his gloved finger along the underside of your chin. Your eyes were glazing over, your lips fell open, and your cheeks were flushed.

Chris applied more pressure to the knife, running the blade along your lower stomach and drawing blood. You let out a satisfied whine as you felt the release of the knife cutting you. The warm, sticky red fluid glistened in the moonlight as it slowly dripped down your abdomen.

"So pretty," Matt whispered, brushing your messy hair out of your face and his eyes dancing between your desperate expression and the way the blood looked so beautiful on your skin. Moans began pouring from you again as Chris fucked you senseless up against the tree.

"Please, Mr. Ghostface. Harder," you begged, your eyes lazily rolling back into your head as your breasts bounced to the cadence of his thrusts. "Cock dumb little slut," Chris menacingly chuckled at your pathetic pleading, but he still gave you what you so enthusiastically craved, relishing in your desperation for him.

You loved feeling helpless and giving yourself over so willingly to both brothers as they used you for their own pleasure. Your whimpers became louder and fuller as you neared your tipping point again.

"Harder," you cried out again before your orgasm took over. Your gaze danced between both of their masks, and your pussy started rhythmically throbbing around Chris' cock as he delivered a few more monumental strokes. You felt a wonderful, relieved feeling in the pit of your stomach as you came unraveled under the control of both boys.

Your brows pinched together, your knees weakened, and your stare began to lose its focus until you couldn't concentrate on anything except for the pure pleasure and ecstasy coursing through you. You were pumped full of Chris' cum as his cock twitched inside of you, and as you came down from your intense adrenaline rush, you felt all your muscles relax.

Both men chuckled, removing their masks and revealing their identities to you. Sure enough, you had guessed wrong. Chris leaned in and chuckled into your ear.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. You may have guessed wrong, but we're going to spare you. You're worth way more to us alive than dead."

[lacroixwh0r3]

Blow My Load

DBF!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: For the last two year, you and Joel have been secretly hooking up behind your fathers back. One night when your dad goes out on a date, you and Joel spend the night together and Joel gets carried away.

Warnings: SMUT!! DUB CON, petnames (pretty tame ones), doggystyle, oral sex (f recieving), PiV, creampie, crying, pregnancy mention, abortion mentioned at the end, overstimulation, Joel is a little bit of an asshole in this (I am so sorry), age gap (Joel is 40 and reader is around 25), (aged up) Sarah mentioned, no outbreak

Song inspo (Feel free to listen if you want): Blow my load by Tyler, The Creator

A/N: Enjoy! Please reblog, share, like, and comment if you want. <333

"Oh, baby," Joel moans as he breaks the kiss between you two. You look down at his lips, which are now bright red and slightly plumped. His tongue quickly licks off the mix of both of your spits from his bottom lip. His hands were still holding your head in place as he looked at you. "I wanna cum in that tight little pussy so bad, darlin."

Normally, the two of you would have to be quiet, but because your dad had decided last minute to go on a date, it was just you and Joel in the house. Or you might even go over to Joel's house, which was five minutes away, if Sarah wasn't home, but tonight the young girl was at the house with three of her friends having a sleepover doing, lord knows, what. Joel was adamant about staying over to watch the four girls, but you quickly reminded him that they're 18 years old and could easily take care of themselves. You were also going to be home alone, and you wanted him all to yourself.

As soon as your dad pulled out of the driveway, you and Joel ran to your bedroom and stripped out of your clothing.

You couldn't help but let out a whimper. "Joel, you know you can't do that." You tell him as you bring your hands up to grip his wrist. You weren't on birth control, and Joel wasn't a big fan of condoms. When the two of you did have sex together, Joel would usually pull out at the very last second, which would lead to you giving him a lecture as you both came down from the intense orgasm you both had.

Sure, it was hot when Joel did it, but you would rather not have to tell your dad that you were pregnant with his best friend's baby, and you didn't want Joel to tell Sarah that he had gotten the girl she looked up to the most pregnant.

"I know, darlin', I know, but imagine how fuckin' good it must feel." Joel whispered to you as he groans out. He brings his head close to yours again. You could feel his lips ghosting over yours.

"I'm fucking you until you can't think straight, begging me to dump my warm load deep into your pussy." Joel says before he sticks his tongue out again, only this time his tongue strokes against my top lip. You felt a strong pull in your stomach as your pussy clenched around nothing, causing you to push your hips into Joel's. "Maybe even put a baby in there." He says it lightly. It was almost as if he was saying it to himself, but somehow you still heard it but didn't comment on it.

You couldn't help but think about earlier, when Joel had lifted your dress up and ate you out on your family's couch in the living room while your dad ran to the store to restock on beer and some food for dinner. The way he sat down on the floor as he wrapped his large hands around your ankles to keep your legs from closing or falling off the couch Or the way he slurped, licked, and sucked on your clit to the point you almost wanted to scream at the top of your lungs.

You parted your lips to allow Joel's tongue to invade your mouth. Joel cocks his head to the side a bit and sucks on your tongue before letting it go and French kissing you. You can feel it as the drool slides down your chin, getting onto his beard. You feel Joel's hands release your face and move down your neck, stopping at your breast. He fondles them and thumbs your nipples. They were painfully hard now.

You wanted nothing more than for Joel to fuck you senselessly until you couldn't think of anything but him. Joel always turned you on when he talked to you like this, but you were ovulating right now, and his words weren't helping.

You pull away from the kiss. "Fuck me, Joel," You mutter against his lips. "I want you to fuck me hard, daddy."

"Yeah, you want me to fuck you nice and hard? Get on the bed so Daddy can fuck you," He says sternly. "I want you face down, ass up, darlin'." You immediately get to the edge of the bed, just as Joel told you to, with your feet hanging off.

You can feel Joel close behind you in between your legs as he reaches over your naked body and grabs the pillow near your head. "Get on your hands for me real quick," He tells you. Again, you do what he says, and he stuffs the pillow underneath your stomach. "Good girl, now lay back down on your chest." He tells you once more. You lay back down and realized that your hips were now elevated, allowing Joel to easily access your pussy.

"Oh, look at you, so fuckin' sexy with your ass in the air, just ready for me to fuck you," He teases you. "You want me to fuck that pretty pussy, doll?" Joel asked. You felt your pussy clenching around nothing. Begging for your hole to be fucked

"Mmmhm." You whimper at Joel as you nuzzle your face into the soft sheets beneath you. However, your response did not satisfy him because he spanked your ass with his large hand. Your head pops off the bed, causing you to look back at him over your shoulder.

"Say it." Joel demanded it from you. "Tell me how much you want me to fuck you."

"I've wanted you since you got here, baby. I've been so fucking wet for that big cock." You whimpered as you wiggled your ass in the air, causing him to strike your ass again.

"Oh, I know you want my cock, honey. You want me to fuck my cum into you? Hmm?" He spanked you multiple times. You let out soft whines as you shook my head.

"Hmm? What's that, baby? You want me to cum in you?" He not-so-jokingly asked:

"I mean it, Joel. You can't cum inside of me or I'm gonna kill you, old man." You give him a pointed look over your shoulder, causing him to raise his hand in defense with his eyebrows raised. You meant it jokingly, but also not jokingly.

"I promise I won't, baby." He tells you.

"Mmhm, now I want you to fuck me, Joel." You demand him. His left hand grips your waist as the other wraps around his cock as he strokes it, getting ready to slide it into you. You feel him rub his cock against your clit as he gathers the arousal that seeps out of your hole. You moan out his name as he hisses.

Joel then points the head of his cock at your pussy and slowly slides inside. Letting out a deep groan as he does so. "Oh f-fuck, baby," He shudders. Your toes had curled up in pleasure as you dropped your head onto the sheets. "Pussy so fucking tight and warm... I might just have to cum in this pussy and make you a momma, huh?" He questions you as he slowly begins to push in and out of you. Joel felt the flutter after he said that.

"Oh, you liked that, baby?" Joel teases you. His slow strokes began to form a hard, fast pounding. "Tell me."

"I am going to fu-Oh fuck me-I'm gonna fuckin' kill you, Joel!" You moan out to him as he continues his furious strokes. His balls slapped against your clit as he pushed your waist into the pillow beneath you. "Y-you have to fucking pull out," You plead with Joel. You knew that he wasn't listening as he continued to pound his cock in and out of you.

"You promised me!" You squeal out. Joel only grunted in reply and spanked your ass with full force as his left hand gripped your hips.

Somehow, Joel's thrust had only gotten faster. You could hear your headboard hitting against your wall and the sound of my ass slapping against Joel's hips. It was all too much. Your knees began to burn from the friction, your hips began to grow sore as he tightened his grip on them, and with each hit to your ass, there was a sharp sting that lingered. That's when you knew that both you and Joel were close to orgasming.

"Oh, J-Joel, baby, please!" Suddenly, it hit you. You were cumming so hard that you didn't know what to do with yourself. The combined feeling of Joel's heavy balls slapping against your clit and his cock rubbing the spot deep within you was overpowering, causing tears to form.

You grabbed the pillow that sat near your head and brought it close to your face. You bite down on the pillow as your eyes roll to the back of your head, letting out loud moans into it.

"Oh my fucking god, baby..." Joel strains out his sexy, deep voice. He spanks you again as you cum around his cock and rub your ass cheek to soothe the pain. "Come on, sweet girl, tell me who's making you feel good." His strokes had begun to slow down now.

You release the pillow from between your teeth. You were so far gone from your ongoing orgasm that you couldn't even form words. Goosebumps had formed around your whole body as you shaked and quivered.

You feel him bring his hand up and smack your ass hard again, causing your body to jerk in response. "Tell me, girl! Who's makin' you cum this hard?" Joel grits his teeth as he slowly thrusts into you.

"It's you, Daddy!" You moan out to him as you reach your arm around you to grab onto his fingers on your waist. Joel moans and slowly picks up the pace of his thrust. You could feel his balls tighten against your clit, letting you know that he was nearly cumming. You look over your shoulder at him.

"That's fuckin' right, daddy is fucking you." He fucks himself into you. "O-Oh fuck, I'm gonna fuckin' cum soon, my sweet girl." Joel continues to hold onto your hand while his other hand lazily spanks your ass some more. You watch as his head falls back and his eyes close. You feel yourself close to another orgasm as well, but you can't help but worry that Joel isn't going to pull out on time.

"J-Joel," You moan to him as you grip the sheets on the bed. "You have to pull out; I'm ovulating, and you're gonna get me pregnant if you don't." You tried to tell him so that he could pull out. However, this only seemed to turn him on more. His cock strained in you all while he continued to stroke against the spot inside of you. You released his hand, slipped it between the pillow, and onto your clit. You rubbed your clit fast as he fucked you.

Joel looked like he had been transported to heaven. He looked down at you with both hands on your hips, gripping them hard. It hurt, but you didn't care.

"Oh, baby, I love you so fuckin' much," he whimpered as he looked into your eyes. "I'm so sorry," He says, looking down at his cock going in and out of your pussy. The sight of your juices covering his cock made his body go stiff. That's when you knew he wasn't going to pull out.

"I can't stop; I need to fuckin' cum in this tight pussy right now."

"Joel! No, pull out now." You told him as you tried to move your body away from his, but his grip was too tight around you. "You promised me, Joel!" You moaned loudly.

You weren't sure how many times you had orgasmed today, but you knew that you were cumming again. Joel moans as he feels you tighten around him. His cock begins to spurt his warm cum into your womb. You were so overstimulated that your eyes leaked tears and your ears rang loudly as your cunt welcomed Joel's cum and fluttered around his cock. Over the ringing in your ears, you can hear Joel whimpering out soft appologies as he continued to cum.

With his cock still inside you as you leaked out cum from your pussy, he laid his warm body on top of your back. His chest was damp with sweat from pounding into you. You could feel his warm breath by your ear as he took a minute to gather himself together. He still felt your walls fluttering around him. "It's okay, babydoll. I got you," He whispered gently as he stroked your bare side. You couldn't speak or think; all you could do was shiver underneath his body, even though you were far from cold.

Moments later, Joel pushes up from the bed and slowly pulls his cock from you with a slight hiss and groan. Joel bends down to get a look at your cum-filled pussy with his hands resting on your ass. "Oh doll, look at that pretty pussy," He whispers as he strokes his thumb against your sore ass. "I'll be back, okay, baby?" You let out a soft hum, letting him know he heard you.

When he went to the bathroom to clean you off and get something to clean you off, he didn't hear you burst into tears. When he came back, you were now sitting in the middle of the bed, crying with your head in your hands.

He rushes into the room, places the water bottle and towel on the bed, and embraces you. You couldn't help but cry harder as you cried into his neck. "Oh, baby, I'm so sorry." He apologized as he kissed and rubbed your head. "I'm so fuckin' sorry, I don't even know what I was thinking."

You continued to cry for a few more moments before speaking up. "Joel, what if you did get me pregnant? What are we going to tell my dad and Sarah?" You look up at him with worry. He could tell you were stressed over this and couldn't help but feel his heart pull in his chest. Joel honestly didn't know what came over him during sex.

"Doll," He grabs your hand from your lap and gives it a quick kiss. "If you do get pregnant and you decide that you want to get rid of it, I will be there along the way, but if you want to keep it, then I will be sure to take care of you and the baby no matter what." Joel says it truthfully.

You stroked his hand with your thumb. "Joel, I'm not getting rid of it, but we're gonna be so fucked when my dad finds out his best friend of four years has been boning his daughter for the last two years and got her pregnant..." You say this to him as you look down at his hand in yours. "He'll fucking probably end up kicking me out and then kicking your ass."

"Don't you worry your pretty little head 'bout that darlin'; you're always welcomed at my house." With his other hand, he holds your head and kisses the crown of your head. "As for him kicking my ass, that ain't happening, sweetheart," He says sternly, as if he is sure. You let out a snort as you laughed.

"Oh really?" You back away from him to get a look at the cocky look on his face. He just looks down at your face with admiration.

"I'm certain, darlin'," He tells you, causing you to let out a loud giggle. That beautiful giggle overwhelmed Joel with love. He knew he loved you before, and he always made sure that you knew he loved you, but he knew right there that there would be another compared to you. You were it for him.

After your giggles had died down, you noticed that he was looking at you with a sparkling look in his eyes. "What?" You asked him softly as you played with his fingers.

"You know I love you, right?" He asked you. You felt yourself beginning to get shy. The both of you always told each other how much you loved each other, but something about this was different.

"Of course I know, Joel. Do you know I love you more, though?" You lean over and plant a soft kiss on his cheek. You then pull back to take a look at his face. The way his hard eyes softened when he looked at you made you weak in the knees. "So fuckin' handsome!" Joel's cheeks turned a soft pink color.

"And you're the most beautiful thing on earth," He whispers to you. "You're mine forever; don't ever forget it, darlin'." You wish this moment could last forever.

You released his hands from yours and brought them to your stomach. "I can't believe we might be having a baby, Joel," You whispered as you stroked your stomach. You could see you and Joel sharing a child together and even getting married whenever the time is right. He puts his hand over yours as well and rubs his thumb against your hand.

"You want me to cum in you again so we know we're successful, baby?" He suggested it with a smug tone. The soft look on your face immediately dropped and was replaced with a blank one instead.

"You're such a dirty old man," You tell him. "But yes, I do." You give him a quick peck on the lips before laying back down on the bed.

================================================

A/N: I kinda hate this, but its been on my mind and I wanted to write.

[alastwhorez]

Alastor with a mommy kink

♡ Pairing: Human!Alastor x MILF!Reader

♡ Summary: Alastor can't help but want his new neighbor

♡ warnings: 18+, MDNI, breeding kink, mommy kink, pet names, oral, p in v, unprotected sex, Alastor is 23, reading is in late 20s early 30s, Alastor calls reader Ma. Age gap, I think that's it. If I missed anything, please let me know.

♡an: not proofread, probably spelling errors, if you don't like mommy kinks or Al calling reader Ma, or Age gap please do not read.

Thinking about early 20s human Alastor with a mommy kink..

You just moved next door with your kids right beside Alastor and his mama.

Alastor helped you move in observing that there was no man with you, he offered to help which you graciously accepted. His mama invited you and the kids over for dinner that evening saying “it's so nice to have children around again now that Al is all grown up” as she pinches the taller male's cheek. Alastor rolled his eyes at his mom's actions trying to cover up the blush rising to his cheeks. He may be “all grown up” as she says but he is still a mama's boy and always will be.

After dinner you help clear the table and do dishes with Alastor as his mama plays with the children in the living room. You fall into a comfortable silence before Al breaks it “so where's your husband?” You look at him and smile before telling him you don't have one. Al hides his smirk from you. in all honesty he didn't offer to help you trying to be neighborly or a gentleman. He offered because of the heat he felt seeing you mother your kids.

Over the next few weeks Al is always there. He is there when you need help putting something together, someone to go to the grocery store with and even when you need someone to kill the pesky little bugs when you are too scared. His mama started babysitting for you as you wanted to find a job. Living Off of you savings wasn't going to last forever. And Al was there for all of it.

Over the weeks Al noticed the heat he would feel intensifies everytime he sees you mothering your kids but what really got him was when he was over for lunch and you wiped his mouth with your thumb to clean a crumb off his lip. He couldn't deny the tightening in his pants at you doing such motherly things for him. It didn't help that you also wore some frisky outfits for your time and that you weren't that much older than him, in your late twenties to early thirties at most.

The twenty three year old quickly became very obsessive and possessive over you. Scaring away suitors. Always telling you, you don't need a boyfriend, you have him and he is right across the lawn. All you have to do is open a window or stand on your porch and yell and he will be there.

Over the weeks of Alastor being around you couldn't deny your attraction to him. He was a very attractive man, one several women in town are always throwing themselves at but you never see him with a woman. He tells you he has his eyes on someone he just doesn't know how they feel yet. That brings a ting of pain to your heart but you smile at the younger male and tell him anyone would be lucky to have him pinning over them.

looking back you wonder how you got in the situation you are in now. Bent over your kitchen table, dress flipped up over your plush ass, and panties down around your ankles as Alastor is on his knees licking and sucking on any flesh his mouth can find. He parts your folds with his tongue as he licks up you. His hands on your ass spreading you open for him. You try to hold back moans forgetting you don't have to be quiet. His mama has the kids. He was only supposed to be over here for a quick visit. He was dropping off leftovers his mama made. But they were quickly forgotten. Left on the counter.

“Fuck ma, you taste so good” He moans against your cunt. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan at the vibration of his voice. Oh god his voice is another thing about him that attracted you to the younger man. His deep raspy voice with his cute little accent. It could make you wet just hearing him talk, and it has.

you yelp as Alastor lands a slap on your ass then squeeze and massage the red spot. His tongue dips in your entrance As his thumb finds your bundle of nerves and starts to rub. Your legs are shaking, thank fuck your on the table. You Turn around trying to see him. Wanting to see him between your legs. He chuckles and smirks against you, feeling you wiggle. Trying to maneuver your body just try so his mouth stays attached to you.

You scream out his name as he speeds up his thumb and quickens his thrust with his tongue. He's moaning against you as he bites, licks, and sucks everywhere he can reach. You're a moaning mess on your table. You can feel that familiar tingle before it snaps and your jerking,moaning, and screaming “Oh Al, baby” eyes rolling back and back arching. He moans as your juices coat his tongue, swallowing it down like it's his last meal.

You're laying on the table trying to catch your breath when he pulls away and stands to his full height. You hear him undo his belt and unzip his pants. You bite your lip in anticipation. “g-gotta feel you around me ma”

Ma, he started calling you that a week after you met.

You feel him slide himself between your folds, wetting himself in your juices before he slowly slides on, stretching you perfectly. You both moan out at the feeling. He starts slow and shallow before getting confidence and speeding up. He's gripping your hips so hard you know they'll bruise but fuck does it feel good to finally have his hands on you. He fucks you from behind until your about to finish when he pulls out. “No nononono!” You whine right before he flips you onto your back and pulls the dress off the rest of the way.

“You little minx” He says when he sees you weren't wearing a bra. You bite your lip looking up at him. His hands find your thighs and push them apart as he stands between your legs pushing himself back into you.

You grip his shoulders then let your hands slide down to his back when he speeds up, giving you an extra hard thrust. “Feels so good,ma” He whines into your shoulder. “Wanted you for so long”

“M-me too Ala-STOR” you moan when he hits that spot that makes your toes curl. He pulls away from your shoulder and slams his lips onto your, the kiss is hungry, feral. It's all teeth and tongue. You can taste yourself on his lips pulling a moan from you.

He pushed your back onto the table as he lays over you and his thumbs finds your clip. Only a couple of thrust later and your cumming all over his cock, begging him your not exactly sure what your begging for pleas fall from your lips

“Fuck, fuck ,FUCK” He says as he puts his face in your shoulder biting and licking your neck.

“Gotta-gotta cum in you ma, make you a mommy again”

“Yes! Yes Al” you beg as you feel another orgasm approaching.

Alastor grabs your tits, “gotta see these Full and round” He says before sucking on into his mouth. Three more thrust is all it takes before he is shooting Ropes of cum into your heat, hips stuttering, his eyes rolling back, and moans falling from his lips. You cum for the nth time seeing Alastor so blissed out,tightening around his cock, milking him for everything he is worth.

You both lay there for several minutes catching your breath. He pulls out a few seconds later but replaces his cock with his fingers pulling a moan from you. “Gotta make sure nothing goes to waste” He says right before fixing his glasses that are now all fogged up. He smiles down at you, helping you up before picking you up bridal style and carrying you to your bathroom.

He runs you a bath, both of you sitting in It, your back against his chest. He is peppering kisses all over your shoulder. He stays with you till nightfall when his mama yells for him to come home and that your kids are on their way back over.

He kisses your lips one more time after your kids run through the door.

“Same time tomorrow, ma?” He says, smirking down at you and then winking before heading back to his mama.

[thef1diary]

congrats on 1k!!! so so happy for you 🫶🏻🫶🏻

for the song request 🎧 could you write a lil fluff piece for lando? song: look after you by the fray <3

Be My Baby | L. Norris

Summary: You and Lando slowly but surely realize that you’re falling in love with each other.

Warnings: none just fluff

pairing: lando x fem!reader

wc: 1.7k

Note: I listened to this song three times and wrote this while listening. I honestly don’t know if it relates to the song at all but I’m satisfied with the plot.

Lando was holding all the bags for you while you shopped, and it was getting hard to hold them all in one hand. But he wanted—no, needed to keep his other hand free so he would be able to hold yours as you walked side by side.

Then, you spotted the next store you wanted to walk into, dropping Lando’s hand and while he followed you, his hand felt a tad too empty.

If I don't say this now, I will surely break

Lately, Lando has been looking at you a little too long for it to be considered anything less than a relationship, but every time he looked away, his heart ached, needing to search for a glimpse of you again.

You were picking out a few clothes, holding it up in front of you as you decided whether or not you wanted to buy it. Turning to Lando to ask for his opinion, you let out a laugh, confusing him.

As I'm leaving the one I want to take

You stepped closer, poking his nose before breaking out into a smile, “oh Lan, do you want me to take any bags?”

You reached for them but he pulled away, shaking his head, “no, I���m good. Also, don’t get that dress.” He commented, nodding his head towards the dress you were currently holding.

“No? It wouldn’t look good on me?” You asked as you held it against your body but he still shook his head. “You would look good in anything, but it has buttons on the back instead of a zipper and I know how much you hate those.”

Forgive the urgency, but hurry up and wait

You flipped the dress and as he stated, there were buttons instead of a zipper like you thought. Your mouth parted slightly in surprise, at both the facts that Lando not only noticed the buttons before you did, but also knew that you preferred zippers. You had no idea that Lando remembered the small piece of information.

Without another word uttered, you placed the dress back on the rack and continued shopping. If you had said something, it would’ve been a little more than what is considered friendly.

My heart has started to separate

During the remainder of your shopping spree, Lando tried to keep up with your pace but he fell behind. However he didn’t mind because he could look at you as much as he wanted without getting caught.

Oh, oh, oh, oh, be my baby

The next time Lando called you, it was way too early in the morning for you. But the words he spoke as soon as you picked up worried you, “I think I might accidentally burn my apartment down if you don’t come and help me.”

You noted the time, 8 am, and groaned, “why would you burn your house this early? Can’t it wait?”

I'll look after you

“Are you coming or do you want to see my body burnt to a crisp?” Laughing, you told him that you would be there in ten minutes.

You reached in nine minutes, knocking incessantly in case Lando did actually fuck something up, but then again it wasn’t unusual for him to do so.

As soon as he opened the door, you walked right past him then once you assessed the damage—or well the lack of—you turned around to greet him, “what did you do?”

There now, steady love, so few come and don't go

“Good morning to you too,” he responded with a sheepish smile on his face. “Lando no middle name Norris, you did not ask me to come over for no reason.”

“I do have a reason, but don’t act like you wouldn’t come over for no reason either.” He walked closer to you, and you shrugged, “fair, I would.”

Will you won't you, be the one I always know?

“Come with me,” he stated, walking towards the kitchen and that’s where the mess was made. There were an unusual amount of empty pots and pans scattered everywhere.

You raised your eyebrow in amusement then looked at him. “Don’t laugh, I wanted spring rolls, but I don’t think I can fry them without either burning myself or the apartment.”

You laughed, something you were doing a lot more in his presence. When he looked at you with a stern glare, you slapped your hand over your mouth to contain your giggles.

When I'm losing my control, the city spins around

Once you stopped laughing, you had only one question, “why do you want to fry spring rolls this early?”

He shrugged, “I’m hungry,”

Shaking your head with a smile on your face, you began decluttering the space so you could work efficiently. Setting the frypan to heat up with oil, you looked at Lando again, noticing that he was already looking at you.

You're the only one who knows, you slow it down

“The things I do for you, Lan, no one else will put up with this you know?” He hummed, “what makes you think I want anyone else but you?”

He watched you cook, surprised at your little to no fear while handling hot oil but he chose not to comment in case it distracts you.

On the other hand, Lando was very much distracted by your choice of clothing. He noticed that you were wearing a black hoodie with his name and driver number on the back. He couldn’t look away from it for the remainder of the time your back was facing him. Then, he realized with a stupid smile on his face, that he liked it a lot.

Oh, oh, oh, oh, be my baby

Lando was walking you home and your hand was wrapped around his bicep as if it always belonged there. The restaurant was nearby so there no reason to drive, plus that meant you two were able to order some wine with your meal.

Although it wasn’t a date, it didn’t feel like anything less than one. The only difference was, both of you were in comfortable clothes, nothing too fancy, and it wasn’t openly stated that it was a date. But god, did you wish it was.

And I'll look after you

Lando walked on the outer edge of the sidewalk that was closer to the road. The sun had set a few hours ago, letting the moon illuminate the night sky. The time always passed by so quickly whenever you were with Lando.

His presence was so inviting that you never wanted to leave. When you finally admitted the thought instead of ignoring it, you realized how much you didn’t want Lando to just be your friend. You wanted so much more.

“What are you thinking about?” Lando spoke, interrupting the silence of the night but his voice was like music to your ears. “The wine,” you lied, knowing that the voices of your inner thoughts could not be said out loud. Not yet.

If ever there was a doubt

“That good?” He followed up, making you nod, “could compete with Daniel’s,” you responded, feeling his body move as he chuckled before you heard him.

“Don’t tell him that, he’s already got too big of a head.” Lando commented about his former teammate although there was no ill intent behind his words. You playfully slapped his arm with your free hand, only because you didn’t want to let go of his arm. “And what about you Mr. Norris, wouldn’t you say you’ve got a big ego as well?”

My love she leans into me

“The only reason I’ve got a big ego is because of you, sweetheart, always complimenting me.” Based on his tone, you knew he was just teasing but you couldn’t help but think more of the nickname he gave you. It wasn’t the first time he used it, but it definitely stirred feelings in your stomach the more he said it.

“Then my ego should be through the roof with the way you compliment me,” you noted, remembering all the times he said something that would leave you a blushing mess.

“And everything I said is true,” He remarked, and only because you didn’t want him to see your face which was undoubtedly red, you leaned your head onto his arm. Surely, that was the only reason, you told yourself. You totally didn’t want to just soak up all his personal space and make it yours.

This most assuredly counts

Reaching the doorstep to your home, both of you stopped walking but neither made a move to part away. In fact, while you were walking, Lando’s hand covered yours that was resting on his arm.

“I guess the night ends here,” Lando commented once you found the strength to move away from him. You looked towards the door then back at him, “it doesn’t have to, you can come in.”

Lando closed his eyes and thought for a moment before shaking his head, “I don’t think I should.”

She says most assuredly

Even though you weren’t holding his arm anymore, you stepped closer to see if he would move back, but he didn’t. “Why not?” You asked, even though you had an idea of what his answer could be.

“I don’t think I would be able to leave.” He looked at you with such intensity that if you weren’t slowly becoming accustomed to it, you would’ve melted into a puddle.

“Lando,” you whispered as there wasn’t a need to speak any louder with the little distance between you. His hand rested against your cheek, and he tilted his face an inch closer.

Oh, oh, oh, oh, be my baby

“This could change everything,” he commented, letting you find a reason to back out now. “I know,” you muttered, leaning closer until your lips were barely just brushing together.

“Kiss me,” you spoke against his lips and he didn’t waste a single moment before closing the distance entirely, claiming you as his and him as yours.

I'll look after you

[evilgwrl]

TF 141 x Reader (Apocalypse!AU)

Immune: Three

WARNING: This is a 18+ Poly!141 series (MDNI)

CW: Suggestive themes (smut is coming I promise)

I literally wrote a whole chapter and it deleted </3

Masterlist

You woke up, body slumped against the door as you groaned. The soft strum of pain vibrated through your lower back, the dull ache sending a small zap through you as you stood up.

Groggy eyes drifted to the stained window, the barely visible streak of sun peaking over the forest as you sighed, feet padding against the floors as soft creaks spoke back to you.

You stared in the mirror, dull eyes staring back. You rubbed your face, small streaks of sticky sleep dragging across your palms as you picked them off.

Mortification is all you could feel. Not only are four men in your house, but you touched yourself to one, and another walked in on you. MID ORGASM. You silently prayed they had packed up their stuff and left. Or maybe it never happened and Ghost hadn’t seen anything. Or maybe- fuck it. There wasn’t much use denying.

The chill of the water woke you up as you scrubbed vigorously, almost as if you could wash away the embarrassment you felt.

You dressed yourself before heading to the barn, the acreage becoming more and more visible by the minute as you fed the animals, collecting any eggs in your makeshift apron, before letting the horses roam in the paddock

You took note of the overcast, thick smog of clouds littering across the barely visible sky. You needed the rain, but you also knew it would make it harder for them to leave if it did.

Conjuring that it would make things easier if they woke up and you were gone, you cooked yourself breakfast before heading out, planning to target a small set of shops you were yet to raid, tucked away on a more secluded part of the area. In fear of waking them up, you rolled out the rusting bike from the garage, a small woven basket adorned with half broken flowers as you rolled the worn wheels onto the gravel road.

You didn’t take much with you. Only a bottle of water, a pistol (incase you magically needed it) and two apples as well the large backpack stitched on your back.

The trail was mostly flat, a few rocks causing you to wobble from time to time, but for the most part it was an enjoyable ride. The soft flicker of the sun stretched through the adorned trees, the heaviness of the clouds beginning to weigh on you as you peddled faster.

It was an hour or two trek, you believed, the roaring ache of your thighs begging for the needed break as you pulled into the abandoned town. Sometimes you expect people to run out, waving you down in celebration, but it never came.

You could hear the soft groans of nearby dead, wobbling their rotting limbs towards the bike before turning around. The tinkle of the rusted bell greeted you as you ducked through the aisles. It was a small store, only supplying anything for a couple hundred, most items expired now anyway, but it was worth a look.

You held your bag open, dumping a few cans of tinned vegetables in as well as a bag of sugar, a pack of razors and some long-life cartons of skim milk. With achy thighs, you jumped over the counter, mess everywhere, register half open with nothing inside. It was funny, even during an apocalypse people found the time for money.

You rattled at the metal knob on the staff door, growing frustrated when it wouldn’t budge before you began to kick, slamming your boots against it repeatedly before it eventually swung open. It might have taken you 15 minutes, but it was sure worth it as you snatched up the golden sweetness many would refer to as whiskey.

You headed off with a few other things, half open stock boxes tipped everywhere as your hands grabbed for anything that hadn’t expire, or was about to. With a heavier bag, and a smug smile on your face, you peddled your way home.

“Y’ think she got scared and buggered off?” Soap quipped, mouth half full with an apple, juices spurting across the room as Ghost glared back.

“If it wasn’t for him,” Gaz interjected, thumb pointing towards the masked-man, “she probably would have let us stay.”

Ghost rolled his eyes, replaying the scene in his head for the hundredth time. Sure, he should’ve knocked but he’s glad he didn’t. Half of him wanted her to ask him to stay, to fully satisfy her, to fully satisfy him.

“She wouldn’t have just packed up and left- put far too much effort into all this place to leave,” Price said, voice deeper than usual as he took a swig of water. Time ticked slowly as they waited around, searching every crevice of the house before they landed on a bow and arrow.

Soap snatched it, veiny hands clawing at the weapon as if it was gold. “What’dya say, LT? Fancy hunting some deer?”

“I ain’t hunting for anybody if I ain’t staying-“

“Go hunt a f’cking deer,” Price huffed.

The two me disappeared into the forest as Gaz stepped outside, bottom plonked in the barely comfortable porch chair. The Captain knew you would probably bitch them out, but a sick part of him wanted you to let them stay, wanted you to realise they were what you needed, that they magically landed on your farm for some Godforsaken purpose.

He would make you realise. He knew he would.

You felt like vomiting now, your bones burning as if they had clawed through your flesh, attempting to escape the treacherous journey that you forced yourself to endure.

You almost felt lost. Why did it feel so much longer on the way back?

You smiled to yourself softly as you passed the tree you marked a few months ago, the unmistakable smiley face almost greeting you. Your smile quickly faded when you felt a spit land on your cheek. And then another. And another. Until you were peddling faster as wet pellets hit the ground.

Slippery hands clutched the leather handles as you neared the entrance of the farm. You were drenched now, hair matted to your neck and face as you flicked it behind you, annoyed that you neglected your clip.

Your boots squelched against the ground as you slammed the garage door shut, weak arms clutching your bag as you swung it around your shoulder, weaving in and out of trees as you stumbled up the front steps.

Tumbling inside, you took note of the cleaner house, a small wrapped bowl of vegetables and a bowl of tomato soup (that was probably cold now) greeting you as you kicked off your boots. You stood over the sink as you scrunched your hair out, the trickle of water tapping as you shrugged off your coat, fumbling outside to hang it on the underground clothes line.

For a minute you thought they had left, no manly faces greeting you until you heard the soft clearing of a throat. “Made you some lunch,” he said.

“Thank you… Gaz, isn’t it?” Clammy hands gripped the bowls as you sat down on the couch, the lukewarm mixture sliding down your oesophagus.

“That’s right,” he replied, gentle smile adorning his face as he watched you, trying to observe you, almost as if you were a war criminal he wanted to break in. Military men, you thought.

You sat in silence, yet didn’t find it to be uncomfortable. Though Gaz was incredibly handsome, and well built, you almost felt comfortable in his presence and you couldn’t quite place why.

“Where did you go?” He asked, almost as if he was hesitant to speak. Your eyes flickered to his lap, hands gently rubbing together before rubbing against his denim-covered thighs. He has nice thighs.

“Uh, I went into a town.. bout two hours from here. Got a few things and I also just wanted to.. get out, I guess.”

He nodded.

Once you finished up, you braced yourself as you ran outside, yet found no horses frolicking frightened in the paddock. Fear ran through you as you sprinted to the barn, heavy footsteps slapping against the mud as you took in the closed door.

You let out a shaky sigh, relieved, when you saw two large, longer heads staring at you from inside, the gentle squawks of hens sounding across the room.

“I hope you don’t mind that I put them inside, figured you would hav’ done that anyway when you got back.” You jumped at the voice, body jolting as you snapped your head.

Price stood there, rough hands clutching a wooden broom as he swept, a beanie now plonked on his head instead of the hat he greeted you with.

“Uh- thanks. Yeah, they’re afraid of the rain.”

“Y’r a good owner, picking up the slack after they were abandoned.”

“I guess so,” you conceded. You looked at him, taking in the way his eyes flickered down your drenched frame, a cerulean blue darkening into a navy.

“Y’r wet.” His tone was sharp, even while stating the obvious, a visible clench of his jaw causing you to tense as you wobbled, suddenly nervous under his gaze.

“Well, I was out in the rain,” you said, almost like it wasn’t the most obvious thing in the world. You looked away but could feel him walking closer to you.

“Y’r gonna catch a cold if you don’t change.”

“I’ll survive,” you replied, your voice now dropping to a low whisper. You looked at him, his stare heavy, almost like it was weighting you down. He smiled at you, a hand reaching out before it landed on the flesh of your waist, squeezing as you felt the familiar heat you encountered last night, prickling through you again.

Your breathing was shallow, an occasional hick passing through you as his hand lingered. “Pretty thing, hm?” He gestured, nodding towards your chest as you noticed the faint outline of the rose-coloured brassiere you chose today. You blushed and you were sure you looked silly, a red hue across your face as you barely stuttered a reply.

You turned, almost feeling like you were about to choke. Feeling betrayed by your own body, you pressed your thighs together and you were sure he noticed.

“Y’n need any help staying warm,” he began, “just tell me, sweetheart.”

[saturnznct]

how he acts when you're pregnant | enhypen x reader

➸ request from anon; heyy, I’m so happy you’re back! You’re fics were always my go-to if I wanted to read anything dad/pregnancy related, loved them all! can you please write about how enhypen would treat you during pregnancy, like their protectiveness, taking care of the reader, or when she’s having complications etc. 🤍

➸ note; hehe me too thank you so much!! that makes me so happy!! i don't love some of these but I hope they're what you wanted <3

➸ word count; 2335 words

➸ sangyoon, sam, ella, eunhye, yeeun, seren; in the womb lol

➸ warning(s); mentions of vomiting, implied sexy time, gestational diabetes, preeclampsia, mentions of possible birth complications

enhypen masterlist

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

heeseung

Heeseung can’t take his hands off you.

You don’t know if it’s because you’re newlyweds, or if it’s because you’re pregnant, but he can’t stay away.

At least one hand is always somewhere on you, on your shoulder, around your waist, on your thigh or knee. 

At night, it doesn’t matter if it’s in the dead of summer, his arm is snaked around you and his head is buried in the back of your neck.

Once you reach your second trimester, and your bump becomes noticeable, Heeseung is always touching your bump, tapping it absentmindedly with his fingers, beaming from ear to ear when eventually he can feel your baby boy squirming underneath his touch.

Sometimes he wakes up in the middle of the night to the push of feet against his palms, it made him smile every time.

Heeseung is also completely whipped for you, he’ll do anything you ask. 

Your cravings get intense, and he doesn’t complain when you wake him at three in the morning whining about salted popcorn with cheese on. And he goes to the store for you, every time.

Heeseung isn’t usually very sappy, but as soon as your bump pops up he’s the most sentimental soppy man in the world.

Every morning and night he talks to your bump about anything and everything. Even during the day he will randomly address the bump asking it questions.

‘Okay, little one,’ Heeseung sinks to his knees one morning, resting a hand on either side of your bump, ‘kick once for cornflakes. Kick twice for the chocolate cereal.’

You giggle, ‘you’re an idiot.’

‘I’m indecisive. This boy needs to pull his weight and help me. He’s already living here rent free for the next however long.’

You roll your eyes, going back to your own breakfast.

‘What do you think baby boy?’ Heeseung gently pokes at your bump attempting to illicit a response.

Eventually your son delivers a single kick, causing you to choke on your coffee. 

‘Unlucky,’ you laugh at his disappointed face, ‘cornflakes it is.’

‘I will evict him as soon as physically possible. How can he disrespect me like this in my own house.’

‘Can’t wait until he’s actually here,’ you murmur.

‘Me too,’ Heeseung kisses your bump before getting up to kiss your head and reach for the cornflakes.

jay

Jay isn’t too overbearing during your pregnancy. He’s not the type to constantly ask if you need anything, he will wait for you to ask him.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t anticipate your needs, you’ll come home from a late shift to find your pregnancy pillow already set up, your cravings are always fully stocked and there’s always plenty of bubble bath.

Where he does get somewhat intense is in public.

Jay constantly worries about harm coming to either of you. When you go shopping, he’s careful not to be recognised, wearing hats and glasses as to not to draw attention to you. In airports, his arm is always around you, guiding you around. 

So, when he’s on tour during your pregnancy and you come to visit, he’s on high alert.

‘Jay, I can walk around the venue by myself,’ you’re escorted into the dressing room by a security guard.

Jay pulls you into a hug, kissing the top of your head, ‘there’s lots of equipment around baby, what if you hurt yourself?’

You roll your eyes, ‘have I ever hurt myself backstage before?’

‘Let me look after you,’ he pecks your lips, ‘anyway, it’s soundcheck soon. There’s a nice chair set up for you beside the stage for the actual show as well-‘

‘Wait, I’m going to watch from backstage?’

‘Yeah, of course,’ Jay says, ‘going out there can’t be good for you, or the baby-‘

‘But you know I love being in the audience,’ you pout, ‘Jay, I want to be out there singing along with my lightstick just like everyone else.’

Jay tilts his head, ‘I don’t know, sweetheart, you’re so far along and the fans can be so intense…’

‘I’ll be in the stands with your managers, I’ll have so much space!’

‘I just have visions of you falling over or someone bumping into you..’

‘Please, baby,’ you pull out the puppy eyes, wrapping your arms around his waist, and you quickly see him crumble.

‘Fine, but minimal dancing,’ he taps your nose, ‘and a security guard.’

Just then, a stage runner knocks on the door, letting Jay know he’s needed for soundcheck.

‘Come on, I’ll take you to your seat.’ 

‘Jay!’

jake

When you first found out you were pregnant, Jake sort of panics a little bit.

You’re hunched over the toilet and throwing up he doesn’t really know what to do. This is completely new territory for him. Your early symptoms often have him incredibly flustered, you’re emotional, your boobs hurt and you’re constantly dizzy.

One night, Jake comes home from practice, and it’s like his instincts awaken when he sees you in the bathroom, on the floor sobbing.

‘Jake,’ you cry when you see him, and he’s instantly at your side on the tiles, ‘I can’t do this anymore.’

Jake takes you into his arms, letting you cry into his shoulder.

‘I know I haven’t been the most.. helpful,’ he murmurs, ‘but I know you, and you are so strong, and you can do this. And I will do everything and anything you need from me, okay?’

From then on, Jake is the most attentive boyfriend, and is very touchy. You don’t even have to ask, and he’s giving you a foot massage. You come home from work, and there’s already a bath run for you at the perfect temperature.

Once you’re four months in, your bump becomes noticeable, and Jake’s level of affection is just exacerbated. 

Every night he rubs your lotion on your bump, tells the bump about his day, and sleeping with his hand on it.

When you’re hormonal, he holds you.

‘Everything hurts, Jake,’ you sob, ‘all day. She’s been sitting on my spine all day, and I’ve been having braxtons, and my boobs hurt and they’re leaking, I tried to nap but I just couldn’t-‘

Jake from month one in your pregnancy would’ve freaked out at your outburst, but this Jake, in month seven, is calm and collected.

He runs you a bath, filling it with lavender bubbles. On your insistence, he gets in behind you, rubbing your back, shoulders and achy breasts.

’Is that better?’ Jake murmurs, the timbre of his voice sending a shiver down your spine and stirring up your hormones.

‘Much,’ you roll your head back against his shoulder, ‘you’re the best.’

He kisses your head, ‘how about we get out and go lay down?’

‘We can get out,’ you nod, ‘but can we do more than lay down?’

Jake grins cheekily, ‘incredible idea.’

sunghoon

For your whole pregnancy, Sunghoon is just filled with pride. He shows ultrasound photos to everyone and talks nonstop about your incoming baby girl to anyone that will listen.

Sunghoon becomes a bit of a pregnancy expert. Every book he can get his hands on, he reads cover to cover. He knows what to expect, what was abnormal and everything in-between. 

So Sunghoon did notice just how much you were needing to go to the bathroom. 

It was relentless. He would wake up several times a night to you wriggling out of his arms and padding into your ensuite. During the day, you’re constantly up and down needing to pee, when you’re driving you have Sunghoon pull into service stations constantly. 

He brings it up to your doctor at the next scan. Your doctor agrees that the rate of your bathroom trips are a little out of the ordinary, so he refers you for blood tests. 

‘Gestational diabetes,’ you read the words on the leaflet, slumped in the passenger seat of your car.

‘Y/N..’

‘This is my fault.’

‘Y/N, you heard the doctor. Sometimes these things just happen,’ Sunghoon rests a hand on your arm.

‘What if something happens to her because of this? I know he said that the risks were small, but what if?’ you begin to tear up.

’She was perfect on the scan the other day, remember? I’m going to help you through this. We’re going to get through this.’

Sunghoon stayed up all night that night reading article after article about gestational diabetes. You woke up the next morning to find a full google doc with meal plans, exercise routines and a schedule to check your blood sugars.

He happily did everything with you, eating the same meals and cutting down on sugar. 

On an evening, the two of you would go down to the pool in your apartment complex for a swim. You would slowly swim around while chatting, usually about the baby or work. 

‘You’ve made this so much easier for me,’ you stand over your daughter’s empty crib, damp hair occasionally dripping onto your bump, ‘thank you.’

‘It’s what I’m supposed to do,’ Sunghoon gently turns you around by your waist and kisses your nose, ‘as your husband and her father.’

‘We love you, Hoon.’

‘I love you too.’

sunoo

Sunoo feels totally out of his depth. 

Suddenly his fiancee is pregnant, something you never expected. He doesn’t know the first thing about pregnancy, and doesn’t know how to respond to your symptoms. He sort of just treats you as if you’re sick, bringing you soup and tea but keeping his distance. At the same time, you’re hormonal, and can’t understand why he’s staying away.

You worry he doesn’t want the baby, that he’s having second thoughts, or you’re bothering him too much with your requests. In reality, Sunoo is just so worried that he’s not being helpful, or that somehow he might hurt or upset you.

One night you’re laying in bed together watching TV in silence, you essentially lose it.

’Sunoo,’ you’re tearing up, ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Why?’ he whips his head around to look at you, ‘for what?’

‘You’re just distant, and you keep away from me, I barely see you. If it’s me or the baby I would rather you just tell me-’

’No- no, that’s not it at all. I want you and the baby more than anything in the world.’

Sunoo is quiet for a few moments, ‘I’m sorry. I guess I’m just scared. I’ve been retreating into my head and haven’t been there for you like I should be.’

‘Sunoo, we need to talk to each other. I need to know how you feel. If we’re going to be parents, we need to be a team, we need to be in sync.’

‘I know, you’re right. I promise going forward I’ll be more open with you about how I feel.’

From then on, he’s obsessed with all things pregnancy and baby.

Every few days you’ll come home to a package addressed to you that you didn’t order, containing a weird pregnancy product that he saw on TikTok.

You and Sunoo talk constantly. You chat late at night in bed, in the morning on your balcony as the sun comes up, in the car on an evening, all about your excitement and fears surrounding the baby. 

Sunoo also becomes somewhat clingy, especially at night or when you’re in crowds. While before you were pregnant he would usually just throw an arm around you, now he sleeps completely pressed against you, his chest to your back.

‘I love you,’ he mumbles into your neck one night, ‘thank you for giving me my dream.’

jungwon

Your pregnancy with Serin is very turbulent. 

For the first half, everything is fairly smooth.

You get sick, and Jungwon holds your hair back. You have mood swings, he tries his best to be empathetic. 

Jungwon knows enough to understand that these things are par for the course, so he’s supportive but not too concerned about your symptoms. 

You were around halfway through your pregnancy when the less than normal symptoms began.

Jungwon would come home from practice to you sitting in a completely dark room. 

‘Why are you sitting in the dark?’

Your head was in your hands, unable to be lifted.

‘I have the worst migraine I think I have ever had,’ you whine, ‘I have taken as much paracetamol as I am allowed. I had a bath in the dark, put a cold cloth on my forehead. Wonnie it’s so bad, I can barely see..’

Jungwon holds you, massaging your head until you fall asleep hours later. 

When the headaches and vision problems persist, you make an emergency appointment. 

‘Bed,’ Jungwon practically pushes you up the stairs when you get home, supervising and making sure you were changing into comfortable clothes and getting under the covers. 

Your intense headaches turn out to be preeclampsia. Although at the moment Serin was measuring well, the doctor had warned you of the potential complications, including preterm labour or low birth weight. 

You’d been ordered to take strict bed rest. 

For the remainder of your pregnancy, Jungwon waits on you hand and foot. 

He’s suddenly fussing over you, messing with your pillows and cushions. He brings up your food on trays, eating every meal beside you. The two of you tear through countless shows on a plethora of streaming services. He holds you when you cry in frustration. He holds your hand when the doctor visits every week.  

‘Baby, it’s ready,’ Jungwon enters your bedroom, approaching the bed.

‘Really?’ you warm with excitement at the prospect of getting out of bed, ‘can I see?’

Jungwon helps you get up, wrapping an arm around your waist to help you walk. 

He leads you down the corridor and into your daughters nursery, which he, Jay and Heeseung had spent all day decorating.

‘Oh, it’s beautiful,’ hot tears spring to your eyes, ‘you guys.. It’s exactly how I imagined.’

‘She’ll be in there so soon,’ Jungwon lays a hand on the rail of the crib, ‘and no matter what happens, she’ll be fine.’

[latetaektalk]

love to hate you | jjk [viii]

“when obnoxiously rich and spoiled frat boy jeon jungkook comes up to you one day and asks you to fake date him for money, you definitely should have said no. because before you knew it, you were going on insta dates with him and having lunch with his equally obnoxiously rich and spoiled friends.”

— genre: sexual themes, angst, fluff, fratboy! AU, fake dating! AU, college! AU, rich kid! AU, enemies to lovers! AU

— pairing: jungkook x female reader

— word count: 18.351

— warnings: swearing/cursing, communication skills nowhere to be found, chronic overthinking, emotional rollercoaster, confusingly set during christmas <3

— a/n: and just like that we've crossed 100k !! its here, the big one. by far one of my favourite chapters that ive written so far!! hope you guys enjoy it!! praying yall wont hate me for this one haha once again, this is inspired by To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before by Jenny Han!

You didn’t miss the look Chaeyoung and Jisoo exchanged, or the way Hoseok longingly looked after Jimin as he quickly walked away to get everyone some food after you sat down, or how Jimin muttered something about how someone clearly needed something to eat. The comment didn’t bother you because he was right and you could admit as much.

The mall had never been your favourite place to go, and even less so today. The Christmas decoration put up around you seemed overly tacky and in bad taste, and you could have ripped off your ears, sick of listening to the same three Christmas songs over and over again. You closed your eyes that ached from the bright colourful lights, and scrunched your nose when your arm bumped into one of your shopping bags. Your patience hung by a string, the fibers breaking with every passing second. Everything hurt, from your head to your arms and your feet.

Nothing was right, and there seemed to be no end to it.

“Fries?” 

Jimin specifially offered them to you, placing two medium plates of golden fries in the middle of the table. You took him up on it, taking two and throwing them into your mouth. The fries were bland and not salty enough but you took three more pieces, shoving your face full. As if the grease and carbs would fix anything. 

“Do you wanna try the thrift store that Ji suggested?” Chaeyoung asked, choosing her words carefully, and you cringed, shaking your head. 

“No.”

The silence continued, and you didn’t miss the looks your friends exchanged. There was clearly a conversation going on over your head, but you didn’t care, reaching for one fry after the other.

“Y/N, it’s gonna be fine,” Jimin said in the end, putting his arm around your shoulder. Bold, but when was he not. “Don’t be so down. That one dress- the beige one looked great on you!”

“Yeah, but also, they don’t care about what you wear,” Jisoo continued, not allowing you to even begin to disagree.

“And you still have time to find the perfect thing, right? If you do decide that the dress isn’t up to standard. Didn’t you get some stuff online too?” Hoseok asked, trying to get you to look at him, but you just closed your eyes and pulled your lips into a line.

They didn’t get it. But telling them that would be of no use, just like how their words didn’t encourage you the slightest bit. 

“I promise you Kook’s parents are really the sweetest people I’ve-”

“Yeah, maybe, I don’t know,” you mumbled, cutting off Jimin. You rubbed your eyes until you saw black spots. With a sigh, you leaned back. “I’ll figure it out, I think.”

There was no confidence in your words. To you, it seemed like your life was about to end, all over a stupid outfit you couldn’t put together. The thought almost made you laugh and cry at the same time. This was as ridiculous as it could get. 

“What did Kook say?” Chaeyoung asked, and you frowned.

“About what?”

She blinked at you, her brows creasing together. “Well, have you talked to Kook about any of this? How you’re worried about meeting his parents?”

You pressed your mouth into a line, and you didn’t even know where to begin. It seemed futile to you to explain that you possibly couldn’t tell Jungkook about all of the thoughts suffocating your mind. You would look stupid, like an absolute fool. You would look like you cared, and really, you didn’t. It would weird him out—how much you stressed about it, how much it was on your mind. But then again, really, actually, you didn’t care at all. You just were… especially irritable these days. Hormones were raging—your period, of course, greeting you just a day prior.

“No,” you exhaled, shaking your head. You didn’t know what exactly you were denying—you being stressed about meeting his parents, or you not talking about it to him. Probably both. “He’s busy with his stuff. He’s got a paper to finish- it’s fine.”

And even though you closed your eyes, you knew your friends were looking at each other. There was a carefulness with which they spoke to you, and you did feel bad. Just nothing seemed to lift your spirits.

“I’m sorry. I haven’t been in… a good mood these days,” you told them, getting more annoyed at yourself for being the way you were. You hid your face in your hands. “I don’t know what’s up with me.”

“It’s fine,” Jimin assured you. “We know you’re stressed.”

Jisoo placed an arm around you, leaning her shoulder against yours. She opened her mouth before closing again, ultimately she decided to speak. 

“What if… you don’t go?” 

“Ji,” Jimin whispered, looking at her as if she had just suggested something criminal.

“I’m just saying— it’s stressing her out so much, maybe she shouldn’t go.” Jisoo shrugged, believing her suggestion to be rather harmless. “She can meet his parents another time, right?”

You looked at her. She grimaced, apologetic, about to backpedal, taking your expression as offence. But you waved her off. Her suggestion was meant well, you knew that. It would also be more than a lie to say you hadn’t thought about it too. Of course, you had. But you couldn’t do it. Not when the image of Narae popped into your mind every time you did consider it. 

“Okay, fine,” Jisoo sighed, relenting. “But I’m just saying he’ll understand if you don’t want to go. It’s not like you guys are getting married.”

Chaeyoung mumbled something to her, but you couldn’t hear it. If you had to guess she told her to lay it off, which you were admittedly thankful for.

“I don’t even have gifts,” you groaned, remembering that your outfit wasn’t the only issue plagueing your mind. “Do I bring an actual gifts? Or just wine? Flowers? Something more personal? I don’t fucking know.”

“Do you have to bring them anything?” Hoseok asked, frowning. “I mean yeah, I guess it’s Christmas and you’re meeting them for the first time, but I don’t know, I’m not sure if you have to bring them anything.”

“I don’t think you do. They’re just happy to meet you, I promise,” Jimin said, squeezing your shoulder, but somehow, his answer annoyed you even more. Because what if he was wrong? And they use it as a reason as to why they didn’t like you because you showed up empty handed? Poor and rude? You wouldn’t even take a single step in their home. And even if Jimin was right, that they were just happy to meet you—it seemed even worse. Because all you had to show for yourself to Jungkook’s parents then would be…. yourself. 

And what if that wasn’t enough?

You groaned, leaning back again. Everything was making your situation only worse, giving you an even bigger headache, feeding the heavy pit in your stomach. And as you spiraled, you didn’t notice the rather obvious text Chaeyoung send, or the even more obvious way Jimin’s phone lit up on the table to display it, just for him to quickly grab it and start typing. Jisoo leaned over to look, and Chaeyoung quickly mumbled something into Hoseok’s ear. You wouldn’t even notice the way Chaeyoung jumped when you spoke suddenly again,

“Let’s just finish eating and go home. I wanna go home.” 

No one protested.

By the end, the fries were gone and the grease had eaten through the recycled brown paper plates, and your mood wasn’t much better, still the same level of annoyance always buzzing in the back of your mind. Grabbing the bags from the various shops you had walked in and out of with your friends today, you made your way out of the mall. Stepping outside, you hugged yourself, the wind harsher than the past few days. 

“What way is your car again?” you asked, teeth gritting. Your question was aimed at Chaeyoung, but you didn’t have the nerve to look at her. With the tip of your boot, you scraped against the concret, enjoying the way it rolled back and forth. You lifted your head when no one would answer, confused by the silence.

“Oh, uh,” Chaeyoung began, glancing at Jimin who was typing away on his phone. “Give us… a minute.”

She said it as if it was a question, gesturing for you to wait. You looked over to Jisoo and Hoseok for some sort of explanation, but they both kept their mouths shut.

“Where’s your girlfriend’s car?”

Hoseok blushed, and you knew he still wasn’t used to the development of his and Chaeyoung’s relationship. It was cute, and it did make you smile a little.

“Just tell me.” 

You tried nice. Nice didn’t work.

“I-I don’t know.” 

You sighed, your hands on your hips, shopping bags knocking on your legs. The cold wavered your voice.

“Ji?”

But rather than even say anything, or make an attempt to stall you, she waved you off, flicking her wrist back and forth. At least, Hoseok and Chaeyoung tried to dismiss you subtly.

“Oh my God, what are you guys looking at? Can we just go home, I’m really cold here and I just wanna-”

“Ah, yes, he’s here!” Jimin exclaimed before slapping his hand over his mouth, eyes wide. “Oops.”

You stopped, not needing a second to understand. Jisoo punched his arm. 

“You texted Jeon?”

If you were upset and annoyed before, you were even more so now. You leaned forward, as if the reality weighed down on you and physically pushed you. Your eyes darted back and forth between your friends before ultimately landing on Jimin, who was shrinking in on himself.

“Are you guys for real?” you hissed, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. You could have ripped out your hair. “But why?”

Everyone looked to Chaeyoung. “We- we think it’d be good if you talk to him. You’re clearly stressed about meeting his parents, so why not talk about it?”

She added on a smile, and you closed your eyes, groaning. 

“Guys, I’m fine.” You dug your hands through your hair, looking over your shoulder, relieved to see that he was nowhere. “Where is he? Is he here already? Tell him to go home. He has a paper to-”

An arm wrapped around your shoulder, and you didn’t need to look to know who it was.

“Go home.”

“Damn, hi, it’s nice to see you too, cabbage,” Jungkook laughed, grinning at you even as you frowned at him. He pinched your nose, and you didn’t even have it in you to swat his hand aside, closing your eyes instead. 

“You guys weren’t kidding. She’s in a bad mood.”

Your frown deepened, mouth setting into a thin line. Jungkook squeezed your shoulder, quietly apologising to you for his comment, but his smile remained on his lips. 

“Alright, I think—” Chaeyoung hooked her arm into Hoseok’s. “—it’s time to go.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, I’ll take her home,” Jungkook said, nodding to confirm his own words. “Get home safe.”

“Great, text us when you get home,” Jisoo said, waving at you. “We love you, Y/N! And oh, nice scarf!”

Jungkook laughed, thanking her.

“Yeah, good luck, Kook! Also love ya, Y/N!” Jimin laughed before taking off, sprinting ahead, scared you might just throw one of your bags after him. (Which you were strongly considering) The others waved you goodbye, and even though you were more than ticked off, you did the same, mumbling a goodbye their way. God knows they had put up with your attitude with enough grace today already. You sighed once they left your sight, shrugging off Jungkook.

You looked at him and your gaze softened, if only a little. Even more so when you saw it, wrapped around his neck so prettily. There was something very messy about him today—his hair not done in its usual way, hanging into his eyes, getting longer each time you saw him, the collar of his coat not folded down properly. If you had to guess, he had walked out the moment he got the text from Jimin. But he had thought of your scarf, looped it around his neck carefully. Looking at him now, out in the cold, you were glad you had invested the time into learning how to knit. The scarf suited him, the red matching him well. You were almost tempted to knit another one, one in every colour.

“You’re wearing the scarf.”

“Of course,” he returned, smiling at you, and you wondered if his cheeks hurt, red from the cold. 

The thought embarrassed you. You looked down, returning to rolling the tip of your boot on the conrete, back and forth, back and forth.

“Go home.”

“Okay, yeah, let’s go home together.”

He reached to take the bags from you, but you pulled away, lifting your head. “No, Jeon, go home. I’m fine.”

Jungkook shoved his hands into his pockets, shaking his head. This wasn’t going to be easy, he realised. “And how will you get home?”

His question made you frown, as if that was the issue at hand right now. You almost scoffed.

“I’ll walk-”

“Right, because walking in the cold is such a good idea, hm?

“Fine, I’ll take the bus.”

“Do you even know where the next bus station is?” 

“I can look it up.”

“Or you can just, you know,“ he leaned towards you, and you couldn’t back off, “not be so stubborn and let me just give you a ride home.”

You pursed your lips, shaking your head. Why was he being oh so frustrating? Why couldn’t he make this easy for you? Why wasn’t he at all discouraged by your behaviour? It didn’t make any sense to you. He should be annoyed with you and your attitude, infuriated because you were being difficult for no real reason. And yet, he smiled and laughed at you, showed you patience. It was strange to you, unexpected.

“I never asked you to pick me up.” 

It was like you were a goddamn teenager, fighting with her parents, trying your very best to tick them off. It was like you wanted him to be mad at you, and in some ways, in some real ways, maybe you did. You felt sorry for your friends about your attitude, but not with Jungkook somehow. For some reason, you couldn’t extend the same empathy to him. At least not in this moment.

He didn’t say anything, hesitated, his brows creasing together. His eyes darted to the ground before ultimately finding you again, tongue in his cheek, nodding. For a moment, you thought you won, did it. 

“Yeah, you didn’t,” Jungkook said, taking one two three steps in your direction, slowly prying the shopping bags from you. “But I’m still here to pick you up.”

And when he met you with a smile, you knew there wasn’t anything you could do. You let your head hang, as tears shot into your eyes. It had never happened before, you were never one quick to cry, but right now you felt like it. You blinked them away, not allowing Jungkook to know.

He took your silence as a sign of defeat, which it was. Very much so. He had won, and you had to admit that you were actually relieved. That he had proven you wrong, that he hadn’t just left after you had repeatedly insisted he should, or gotten annoyed and sick with you. 

Jungkook shifted all of the shopping bags into one hand, using his free one to grab yours. Like he would, of course he would, he placed a kiss on the back of your hand before putting your hands into his coat pocket to keep warm, together. You could have begun crying again.

“Be a good girlfriend, alright?” he told you, leading you to his car, and you scoffed, hoping your voice didn’t sound as unstable and shaky as you felt.

“Be a good girlfriend?” you repeated, raising a brow. Jungkook was quick to see his mistake and correct himself,

“I mean, let me be a good boyfriend to my girlfriend and pick her up after a—” He hesitated, squinting as if he was searching for the right word. “—fun, right?”

There was something inherently cheeky and smug about Jungkook. But you couldn’t quite take offence to any of it, nodding, even if you knew that today wasn’t the funnest day. (And you were to blame.)

“Fun day at the mall with her friends.”

You pressed your lips together. “But what about your paper?”

He paused and looked at you before shaking his head and laughing. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m almost done. I’ll finish it at your place.”

His hand squeezed yours, and you hated how warm he made you feel. How the warmth spread from your chest to the the tips of your ears and feet. How even if you tried, he remained patient with you. You hated it because it made it so much harder, for you not to fall for him again and again. You hated it because you almost believed him that you could be one of those stupidly in love couples that held hands in their pockets and made each other scarfs.

Jungkook opened the car door for you, and you climbed inside, thankful for the few seconds you had to yourself as he loaded your shopping bag into the trunk. Without a word, he gave you his phone, and by now, you knew the drill. 

You unlocked his phone in second before quickly typing in your current location into Google maps. Your address popped up at the top, bookmarked, when you tapped to enter the destination. Handing him his phone back, you wondered what Jungkook’s password meant, 09052020. It seemed so oddly specific, but you didn’t bother asking.

“You should show me what you got.”

The water remained in your mouth a second longer before you swallowed it, slowly screwing the top back on the bottle, eyes set on Jungkook. You shook your head and leaned against your kitchen counter. He was just a few steps away from you, sitting on your couch, taking up all the space, arms spread left and right. 

“Yeah, I don’t think so.”

He gave you a look, as if to say oh please! His head rolled back for a second.

“I think you should.”

You didn’t respond, pulling your phone out of your pocket instead. Deeming your silence as enough of an answer, you scrolled through your phone, opening the group chat between your friends and you, your feet crossing at your ankle. But before you could even read one text-

“But isn’t that why you were in a bad mood?”

It seemed brave of Jungkook to address it so openly. Or maybe just incredibly honest. You couldn’t do it. He didn’t seem afraid at all that you might just dip back into your bad mood at the mention of it and come out bats swinging. It was admirable in some ways. You didn’t rememeber him to be this confrontative a few months ago when you started this, him and you. He seemed to have found a confidence with you now, convinced he knew the ins and outs of you. Maybe he did. He probably did, in some ways. You couldn’t say if you liked it all that much.

You snorted, an attempt to make light of the situation. “Yeah, so why bring it up again?”

Jungkook reached his hands out to you, a gesture for you to come his way. You thought about it for a moment before abandoning both your phone and the water bottle on the kitchen counter and moving over. He scooted to the edge of your couch to allow you to step between his legs. His hands held yours, thumbs brushing the inner part of your wrist, back and forth.

“My parents don’t care,” he told you, staring up at you with his big eyes, squeezing your hands as he spoke, physically stressing his words. “They really don’t care, I promise you. They’re just excited to meet you. And so am I, excited.”

He paused, allowing his words to sink in with you and take effect. 

“But I know you care and you’re stressed about it,” Jungkook mumbled, and you couldn’t look at him, eyes finding the floor instead, right where your carpet curled up because sometimes your couch would dig into it and flip it up. It was so very embarrassing that he knew how much you cared. It felt like you were ripping out your heart and letting him inspect it. You wanted to correct him, set the record straight that really, you didn’t care at all whatsoever! but it felt like a cheap attempt, even more humiliating.

“So why don’t you show me?” he asked, shaking your hands to get you to look at him. You didn’t want to but did anyway. His gaze was soft, just like his smile, and his hair fell into his eyes. You brushed it away. It made his smile widen, so much so he brought your hand to his lips and kissed it.

It was sealed for you then.

“Alright, fine,” you sighed, defeated, moving away from him to dig through your shopping bags. “Look away.”

“What? Why?”

“What do you mean?” you frowned. “I’m changing.”

Jungkook’s features morphed from a frown to a smile in a second before he ultimately began laughing. “Are you really gonna be too embarrassed to change in front of me?” He gave you a moment to deny it. “I’ve seen and touched-”

“Oh my God, just turn around,” you hissed, and for some reason, your cheeks were as hot as the sun. “Either that, or I won’t try on anything.”

He exhaled the most dramatic sigh he could, making a point to show you that he even pressed his hands to his eyes. Just for that, you wanted to kick him. But you should have known that Jungkook wasn’t quite done, needing to squeeze in one more comment, purely to annoy you and nothing more. There wasn’t anything serious about it at all, no deeper meaning.

“Are you gonna be like this when we’re married with kids?”

You froze, arms up and your face mushed together by your sweater and half of your body exposed to the naked air with only your bra to show for. He wasn’t serious, you knew. There was lightness and an obvious teasing embedded with his words. You doubted Jungkook even expected a response from you, probably just enjoyed knowing he made you flustered even if he couldn’t see it. And yet, your heart began pounding and your hands sweating and your cheeks burning and your mind reeling for any possible retort you could offer. Before you could stutter something, he spoke again,

“Sorry.”

The smile was evident in his voice, and when you finally peeled off your sweater, you turned out to be right. You shook your head, throwing your sweater at him before you could think better of it. It hit him in the face.

“Ow, cabbage! That’s not fair, I have my eyes-” 

“I’m so close to kicking you out, you know?” you mumbled, keeping your voice quiet as if raising it by any means was dangerous. You pulled off your pants and your stockings you had layered underneath for some extra warmth.

“I said I’m sorry, cabbage.” 

But Jungkook sounded far from sincere. You didn’t bother responding, grabbing one of the shopping bags and slipping on the sweater you had thrifted. It was off the shoulders and this warm midnight blue colour, rich and beautiful and cozy. You moved to your old dresser and pulled out the black maxi skirt you had thought to combine it with. The outfit was simple, but with the right accesoires (ones you would still have to buy which the thought of it already gave you a headache), it could work. At least, it could in theory because when you looked at yourself in your full body mirror (which you had thrifted when you had first moved in), you frowned.

“Can I look?”

You gave a grunt in response, still looking at your reflection as if you had put together the most hideous outfit possible. It wasn’t much of a yes or no, so for a few seconds Jungkook hesitated, but he slowly peeled his eyes open.

“Oh, cabbage! You look so amazing-”

“No.”

It was as simple as that for you, shaking your head.

“What? But you look-”

“I don’t like it,” you said, already moving to take off the skirt. “Close your eyes.”

You expected some sort of protest from Jungkook, but he actually did as you said. Just as quick as you had decided that the outfit wouldn’t work, you peeled it off of you. You rummaged through your next shopping bags, looking at the pieces you had gotten—a cream knit sweater and white maxi skirt. But all of a sudden, you hated it. You clearly remembered loving the clothes in the store, giving the outfit a couple spins and scrutiniscing it from head to toe until it was deemed worthy of your money. But right now as you looked at it, you felt quite the opposite.

With a sigh, you pulled the last shopping bag towards you. It had the dress your friends had mentioned you should wear. This time, you didn’t inspect it any further, not having the nerve for it. So you just bunched up the fabric and slipped it on. But you didn’t tell Jungkook you were finished changing. Instead you turned and looked at yourself in the mirror first.

Jisoo had found it for you—a maxi slip dress. It was in a beautiful and rich wine red colour, oozing warmth, and soft to the touch. The satin flowed down your body, hugging your curves, and reflecting your dim living room lights like water. Lace was stitched along the neckline, which otherwise probably would have been a little too low given the occasion. The straps securing the dress were tied up into small ribbons around your shoulders, giving it a more dainty and playful look. The slit on the left side reached up until your knee, allowing the fabric to move along with your body in harmony. It was a beautiful dress, made for any occasion with the correct accessoires and styling. 

You were objectively and undeniably beautiful in it. 

And yet, you stared at yourself as if it wasn’t, brows knitted together and lips pursed in a pout, eyes wandering up and down. It wasn’t insecurity—you felt great and comfortable in the dress. But something about it just wasn’t right. You tried imaging yourself all dolled up in it, hair and makeup done to your liking, but the frown remained. It wasn’t perfect enough.

You shook your head, moving to take it off. When you turned on your heel, you looked straight at Jungkook, and Jungkook looked straight at you. His eyes were big and wide and set on you, his mouth agape and curling up into a smile. You gasped, both in surprise and upset.

“W-why are you looking?” you hissed, feeling the heat crawl up your neck, and you threw your arms around yourself.

“I’m sorry. You- you just took so long, cabbage. And so I looked and…” Jungkook finished his sentence with a simple shrug and smile. You frowned at his answer, shaking your head.

“Close your eyes,” you spat through gritted teeth, turning around to change out of the dress. “I’m changing-”

“What? Why?” Jungkook sounded genuinely confused, jumping up from his seat and moving your way, shaking his head. “You look amazing! Please don’t change. I love this dress on you!”

He stopped short in front of you, turning you around and taking your hands into his. 

“This dress suits you so well,” he whispered as if it was some sort of secret. You looked to the mirror behind you, inspected yourself, eyes shooting up and down. Jungkook stepped behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, his fingers interlacing in front of the soft of your belly. He pushed you to lean fully against him, his eyes scanning every inch of you.

“You’re so pretty. So very pretty.” 

His words tasted like Christmas chocolate, were thick with honey and sugar, stuck to your teeth. They were bad. Horrible. For you and your heart. Because they sounded so very believable. 

“You look incredible.”

He finished with a kiss to the back of your head, and you didn’t know where to look. You placed your hands on his, tentatively, and he was quick to take them into his, scoop them up and hold them tight. He had to know, you thought to yourself, how hard your heart was beating.

“Don’t you like it?”

You met his gaze in the mirror, mouth settled into a line. 

“I like the dress,” you said, tilting your head. 

“But?”

“I don’t like it for…”

“Meeting my parents?” Jungkook supplied when you wouldn’t finish your sentence, and you didn’t answer, averting your gaze instead. “What do you not like about it?”

You closed your eyes, feeling so very silly. Because you couldn’t say. You didn’t know. There shouldn’t be anything to dislike about the dress, nothing about it was wrong—you loved every little detail, and even more how you felt in it.

“What do you think?” 

“I don’t think my opinion really matters here,” Jungkook laughed, and you peeled your eyes open, a smile tugging on the corners of your lips. He was annoying. Just couldn’t provide you with a simple answer when he even has already voiced his thoughts. “But I think you look really pretty in this dress.”

You scrunched your nose. “How pretty?”

“So pretty I wouldn’t mind going blind now.”

You smiled, no, grinned. He was so stupid.

“So pretty I can’t believe you don’t like it.” 

You tilted your head to the side.

“So pretty I don’t want you to ever take it off again.” 

He pressed kisses to your neck and shoulder, nose burying into your hair, words mumbled into your skin, and hands beginning to wander further south, scrunching the fabric. You let him.

”So pretty I want to take a picture of you and print it out and hang it up above my bed and also keep another one in my wallet and change my background picture to-”

“O-okay, enough!” you said, pushing him away from you because your limbs were beginning to tingle and burn, and his touch was sending shocks through your entire body. Even more so, his hands were beginning to go to places he shouldn’t, not right now at least. You made sure to keep him at an arm’s length, palm pressing into his chest, in fear he’d simply close the distance if you didn’t physically stop him.

“You’re so ridiculous, Jeon,” you said, shaking your head, laughing a little. “You can never be serious, can you?”

“But I am! I’m very serious! Looking at you makes me wanna-”

You were quick to shake your head, hands pressing to your ears because no no no, you didn’t want to know! All while you were smiling, grinning almost. Without realising it, Jungkook had done the impossible—lifted your mood, made you laugh when you felt irritated and annoyed by everything before. 

“Fine, I won’t tell you!” Jungkook sighed, dramatically rolling his eyes. You looked at him, lowering your hands, your smile cemented on your lips.

“You’re so stupid, Jeon,” you mumbled, scrunching your nose, and he gasped in faux upset.

“That’s so mean, cabbage!”

“Oh, just shut up.”

Jungkook slung his arms around your middle, doing so before you could even think to stop him. His chin dropped to your shoulder, hands scopping up yours again and eyes meeting in the mirror.

“So, what do we think?”

You raised a brow. “Now, it’s we? I thought your thoughts didn’t matter-”

He sighed, closing his eyes for a second. “Fine, what do you think?”

And you inspected yourself again, gaze wandering up and down. You didn’t know what it was, but the dress seemed different now. It was still the same fabric, same cut, nothing had changed, but you remembered why you had bought the dress, why you had taken Jisoo up on her offer to try it on when she had shown it to you. Because it was beautiful, even more so with you in it.

“Is this the dress?” Jungkook whispered into your ear, and you knew he was hoping for a yes. 

You tilted your head to the side, heart beating faster when you opened your mouth. Because yes, it was. The dress, choosing it, it was another step closer to meeting Jungkook’s parents, another hurdle out of the way. Your eyes met his in the mirror, his face so close to yours. The two of you standing there together, you almost could convince yourself you were an actual couple.

“Yeah, it is.”

He beamed, tightening his arms around you, letting out a small sigh of relief. “Okay, good, I’m glad.”

You lowered your gaze, and you wondered if he maybe feared you wouldn’t go because you couldn’t find anything to wear. If maybe that was the reason for why he came so quickly because he didn’t want you to use that excuse. Because otherwise he would have to explain to his precious and perfect parents why his girlfriend refused to meet them-

“How does the 22nd sound to you by the way?” Jungkook asked, pulling you out of your trains of thoughts, almost as if he knew. He mumbled the words into your skin, and you felt every move of his lips. “To meet my parents, I mean.”

Just eight days.

“Y-yeah, that… should work,” you returned, breathless and high pitched, eyes finding the floor. He stared at you in the reflection, nudging you to do the same. You hesitated, but did as he said, breath hitching in your throat when you saw the way he was looking at you, oh so sincere and genuine.

“It’s gonna be fine.”

There was something assuring about the way he said it. If anyone elses told you these words, it would do you no good, bring you no relief. But when he did, it did. It was silly really.

“I promise you.”

“Yeah, really, Jeon?” you laughed shallowly, tucking a strand behind your ear and swallowing. “You promise me?”

And as if looking at your mere reflection just wasn’t enough for him, Jungkook turned you around by your hips, forcing your eyes to meet his. 

“I promises you, cabbage. I won’t leave you for one second, alright? Hell, I will drive you there and home again, okay? I’ll be there with you for every second of the day, from the moment you wake up to the moment you go back to bed, glued to your side, so much so you’ll be so annoyed by me that you’ll want me gone. You won’t even go the bathroom on your own, okay?” He paused for a second, scrunching his nose. “I’ll make sure you will have the most non awkward but perfect and fun evening possible.”

His phrasing made you laugh, ebbed the waves of anxiety crashing onto your mind over and over again when you thought a little too much about the next week. His parents, him and you, in one room. 

“It’s gonna be great.”

Jungkook smiled at you, a little too bright and too wide. You returned it to the best of your abilities, letting him pull you back into a hug, eyes falling shut.

“Okay, I believe you,” you told him, hearing his heart beating in his chest. “For once.”

He tightened his arms around you.

(“Do you think it will have snowed by then?” he asked you when the intro to the new episode of Avatar began playing on his laptop. You looked up, eyes catching his, your head rested against his chest and his arms around you.

“What?”

“By the 22nd I mean. Do you think it will have snowed by then?”

You frowned, thinking of the last few winters. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

He thought about your answer for a few more seconds, looking off to the side before returning your gaze. “I hope. I’d like to spend a proper white Christmas with you.”

“Pray to the Gods then,” you said. “Chances aren’t so good.”

The past few years it had always only snowed in January.

“Oh, I do, every day,” Jungkook laughed, and you hummed, focusing back on the episode and missing the way his gaze softened at your sight.)

“Okay, so I’ll be back right before New Year,” Chaeyoung said, giving her calendar one last look before snapping it close again. “Who of us is gonna be here?”

Hoseok and you both let out affirmative noises, and Jimin raised his hand in a yes as well, mouth stuffed with his sandwich. You scooted closer to the table to let a guy squeeze through as he made his way to the lunch table with his friends, a tray full of bland and dry cafeteria food.

“I’m not sure yet,” Jisoo said, taking a handful of grapes from her purple grape shaped lunch box and plopping each one into her mouth. “My sister asked if I wanted to celebrate New Year’s with her. But maybe she’ll go over to her girlfriend’s. She isn’t sure yet. I’ll text you guys?”

“I’ll be here the entire holidays,” Namjoon sighed. “I still have finals.”

“Ah, I’m sorry,” you said, offering him a smile. He waved you off, mumbling something about how at least he was almost finished up with it all. 

“Well, at least we will be spending New Year’s together, right?” Jimin said with a smile.

You took a sip from your green tea, needing warmth because your University never turned on the heaters, preferring their students to freeze. Where did your tuition money go? 

“Okay, but how about Christmas eve for everyone else? When are you guys heading back home again?” Hoseok asked, shovelling his protein oatmeal into his mouth. “You’re going tonight, right, Ji? With Jennie?”

“Yeah, our train’s booked for 8 pm.”

“I’ll go on the 23rd,” Jimin said, and Chaeyoung echoed the same. 

“You’re going tomorrow, right?” she asked Hoseok, and he nodded. “When are you meeting Kook’s parents again, Y/N? The 22nd?”

“Yeah.” You played with the lip of your paper cup, feeling the warmth of your tea. Your heart grew a little heavier, scared one of them would ask when you’d go meet your parents. Because you weren’t, at least not on Christmas eve. Both of them had to work, unable to take a day off. It was an irrational fear, you were aware. Because your friends knew that very well. They’d never ask, but your heart didn’t understand.

“That’s- oh my God, that’s in four days, huh?” Jisoo gasped, and the horror and terror gripping you must have reflected on your face because she was quick to interject. “Oh, sorry. No, it’s gonna be great, Y/N. I don’t know why I said that. That was stupid.”

“You’re still anxious about it, huh?” Hoseok mumbled, and though he worded it like a question, all of you knew the answer.

“Hard not to be,” you said, voice a little short and curt. “It comes in… waves.”

Namjoon patted your shoulder. “It’s gonna be fine.”

Chaeyoung reached for your hand, squeezing it. “Yeah, I’m sure. We’re all gonna be there for you if it does somehow go wrong—which I highly, highly doubt might I add.”

“Well, not Jisoo. She’s gonna be home, busy showing off her Jennie,” you joked, trying to make light of the situation but it sounded just slightly off.

“What? I can’t be there for you from home?” Jisoo gasped, and before you could question how she’d do that, she continued. “I’m there for you too, telepathically! Jennie too! In your heart! Always! Over the phone! Don’t doubt us!”

You laughed a little, mouthing an apology.

“But you definitely won’t need us,” Jimin said. “Because it’s gonna be fine. Especially because Kook’s gonna make sure of it, okay?”

Before you could return something, your eyes were drawn to the doors.

Oh.

Your friends followed your gaze.

Jungkook had his backpack strapped to his shoulder and the red scarf wrapped around his neck. It shouldn’t be possible. You were technically too far for you to properly see, but you saw it—the tension in his shoulders, the strain in his nape, the deep knit between his brows. He was…. annoyed. It was new to you. For a moment, you almost expected to find Narae walking behind him, bugging him, hot on his trail. It would explain it to you, and you would just simply walk over there and pull him to your table. Just like that, you would ease the knit between your brows, take the tension out of his shoulders and neck-

But it wasn’t Narae. 

It was Taehyung. 

He said something to Jungkook that made him roll his eyes. Jungkook didn’t seem to want to respond, shaking his head and waving his hand around, an attempt to end the conversation. But Taehyung wasn’t so kind, going on, even taking hold of his shoulder.

“Someone is in a mood,” Namjoon mumbled, cringing.

“What are they talking about, Y/N?” Jimin asked, looking at you, and you stared right back at him, frowning.

“How would I know?”

“You’re his girlfriend.”

“So?”

“Go find out.”

“What? I just walk up to them and say,” you raised your voice a few pitches, “‘Oh my God, hi, you guys are clearly fighting. Care to share?’ Is that what you want?”

Jimin blinked, shrugging. “Sure, that would work.”

“You’re so ridiculous, Jimin,” you hissed, touching a hand to your forehead. “That wouldn’t work.”

“Of course, it would. Kook’s absolutely obsessed-”

“Oh my God, shut up,” Chaeyoung hissed, slapping Jimin. “They’re looking!”

“You guys are always so loud,” Hoseok sighed, and you sent him a glare because no, you don’t! It’s just Jimin!

But they were right. Taehyung and Jungkook were both looking at you, their conversation having come to an end. When you met his gaze, Jungkook’s face contorted into something else, features twitching. You couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but it wasn’t the usual. He didn’t soften in the way you were used to when he would see you. And when you tried a smile, Jungkook struggled to return it. You felt shot, and your smile faltered.

But Jimin didn’t sense it at all, wildly waving his hand around, gesturing for the two to come this way. And as if it wasn’t more obvious, he yelled it too, “Hey, Tae and Kook! Come join us!”

Jisoo sighed, “He’s such an idiot.”

Chaeyoung and Hoseok shrugged, as if to say well, it’s Jimin. They were right, it was just Jimin being himself, unaware and impulsive. Namjoon didn’t have any words, shaking his head. 

Jungkook and Taehyung looked at each other, exchanging a few words before the latter glanced at his watch and shook his head. He had to go. Taehyung placed his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, whispering something into his ear. You must have imagined it but it looked like he glanced in your direction. But before you could think about it, Taehyung headed in the same direction he had previously come from, and Jungkook slowly made his way over, not meeting your eyes once.

“What were you arguing about?” Jimin asked when Jungkook stood in front of you, and you watched him grip the strap of his backpack, the skin over his knuckles stretching thin.

“Jimin!” Jisoo hissed, punching him. 

“Ow!”

“Right, yeah, of course, you’d ask,” he smiled. “It’s fine.”

Jungkook said it with a laugh, but it was all wrong. 

“We weren’t arguing.” 

And as if it wasn’t enough, Jungkook put on his brightest and biggest smile. He showed it to everyone. Like a stone plunged into the deep sea, your heart sank. You had seen it before, that smile. It had decorated his lips during the Halloween party when you first walked in, or when you had first hurt his feelings while you had gone costume shopping. 

Namjoon and you looked at each other shortly, both of you sensing it. 

“Is everything-”

“Well, it looked like you were,” Jimin mumbled, accidentally interrupting Namjoon. He waited for Jungkook to budge and cave under his gaze, but when he wouldn’t, he shrugged. “Come sit.”

Maybe he could feel your burning gaze on him, but Jungkook finally glanced in your direction. If only for a second, so very brief. But it dug into your heart and split it open, gutted you and left you utterly empty. You had seen him just yesterday, picked out your dress together, parted ways this morning a few hours ago, and now he seemed like another person. He looked so sad, sad in a way you hadn’t seen before. You didn’t think that any emotion close to that had ever crossed his features, not in your presence at least. It was so new and surprising to you—because somehow in your mind, you had forgotten he had the ability to feel… upset—you froze.

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” Jungkook said, nailing that same smile back onto his lips as before. “But I’ll see you guys around.”

And before any of you could protest, he was gone, back turned to your table and heading into the crowd. 

“Well, that was… weird,” Chaeyoung said, pointing out the elephant in the room. And as if she had said your name, everyone turned to you for some kind of answer.

You blinked back at them. “Yeah, I-I don’t know.”

There was another beat of silence before ultimately your friends shrugged.

“Maybe it’s just not a good day?” Hoseok proposed, and they were all quick to agree, moving on. And though you didn’t voice it, you knew it wasn’t that. It couldn’t just be that. 

You knew it was about you. It had to be. Taehyung had glanced at your direction. You hadn’t imagined it, that much you were sure of. And the fact Jungkook hadn’t been able to look at you cemented it for you. Your heart quickened, a certain question coming to the front of your mind.

What if Jungkook didn’t want you to meet his parents anymore?

Maybe it had finally clicked with him—what it meant if you met his parents. How ridiculous it was. Because you weren’t his girlfriend. It was his parents after all. How stupid all of it was actually. Not just you meeting his parents, but the entire contract you had. How far it had gone, too far.

You pressed your lips together, a knot forming in your throat. Maybe he didn’t know how to tell you now. Maybe you should be prepared for the very worst. Maybe this was it. Impact incoming! The fall was nearing its end, your end.

Your hands began shaking, curling around the edge of the table for stability. Panic built up within you, panic that really shouldn’t build up at all, you knew. Your friends blurred into an incohesive mess in front of you.

Oh God.

You didn’t see Jungkook for the rest of the day, or the one after that. In fact, you didn’t hear from him at all, until almost two days later. Maybe you should have reached out first—you did think about it. But you simply couldn’t, your hands shaking whenever you’d open your chat with him, your old messages staring back at you almost mockingly. Because what if he told you he wanted to end it? What if this was how it would end because you couldn’t wait and recklessly send a message?

There was a few seconds of silence, the sound of his breathing coming in through unsteadily. You gripped your phone tighter.

“Hey.”

Jungkook still sounded the same, and for some reason, you were surprised. Why you expected him to sound different, you didn’t know. 

“Hi,” you returned, swallowing because it was your voice, in fact, that sounded odd. At least it did to you. You cleared your throat.

Usually, he’d make some joke, ask you about your day, how you were doing, where you were, if you had watched the videos he’d sent you yet, eaten already. Usually, your conversation would be much lighter, easier. Right now, you felt the air hanging between you, pulling your legs closer to your chest as you waited and waited. He had called you, he would have to speak first.

“I’m sorry I didn’t join you guys for lunch the other day,” Jungkook mumbled, and you closed your eyes.

“It’s alright,” you said, a waver to your voice and you couldn’t decide if it was because you felt cold, even though you were tucked into your bed, or because you felt uncertain of it all, like you were standing at the edge of a cliff, the deep sea awaiting you on the other side, waves crashing up on you. 

Neither of you said anything. 

Your throat grew dry, the questions coming back up again within you. Was he going to tell you over the phone? That he didn’t want you to meet his parents anymore. Maybe even that he wanted to call this entire thing off. That he’d realised this wasn’t worth it anymore, doing all of this to win a stupid bet he’d made with Taehyung months ago. It had gotten too exhausting, you had gotten too exhausting for him. Let’s just end it here, tell everyone you’d just fallen out of love. Hell maybe he’d be even willing to tell everyone the truth, how they’d been fooled. It had all been an act! How fun! How could you all think he was in love with-

“Everything’s alright.”

You paused. “What?”

“I-” Jungkook faltered, letting out a laugh. It came through oh so light and clear. Just not quite genuine. Or maybe you were imagining it, your mind dissecting every of his words. “I’m just trying to say- things are alright. It’s gonna be okay.”

And for some reason, you knew the words weren’t meant to reassure you. But him. He needed it right now, more than you. You blinked, nodded as if he could see.

“Yeah, everything’s alright,” you repeated, quietly. “It’s gonna be okay.”

What exactly he referred to, you weren’t sure. And you weren’t going to ask. He’d tell you when he wanted you to know, when he was ready. Truth be told, you weren’t even entirely sure if you were ready for it, couldn’t say either where your confidence that it’d be alright came from. 

“It will, right?” he laughed again, that same laugh. It came through now, the tinge of uncertainty swinging with his voice. 

You added a small smile, reassurance. “Of course, it will. Always has.”

Jungkook waited a beat, thought about it for a second. “Yeah, no, yeah you’re right.”

And then, you both went back to silence again. You were the one to break it, doing so before you could think better of it and retreat. The question slipped so quickly past your lips, came out of you with the answer to it packaged within already. For once, you dared something, held out your heart.

“Do you want to come over?”

The question seemed alright at first. He’d tell you he was already on his way, in fact. Had you not heard the engine this entire time? Actually, look outside! How silly of you, he had gotten you again. You’d laugh, buzz him up while telling him how annoying he was. He’d fall into your arms, coat and scarf and shoes still on. There’d be no time for you to tell him to at least take off his shoes because he’d knock you over with his entire weight. But you’d hold him up, if not barely and struggling heavily. You’d do it, and you’d do it with a smile. He’d press a kiss to your lips and ask you again if things would just be fine. And you’d do the same as you did on the phone, like a good girlfriend does, you’d reassure him over and over again until you’d be too tired and fall asleep together. Things would truly be alright, you’d meet his parents and maybe resolve it all. Maybe he and you could be something, more. Maybe he meant it, all of it, the gestures and words and kisses. He and you, together, it could be possible-

“I’m sorry—” You wanted him to stop then. He didn’t need to elaborate. It was enough. You bit down on your tongue, hard. “I’m… just really tired today.”

Jungkook hesitated, spoke slowly, and you wanted to laugh it off, tell him it was alright and to go to sleep, but your throat knotted into a terrible mess. 

He didn’t want you to meet his parents.

“Hm.”

It was the only response you could offer. Because if you spoke, he would know, and he couldn’t know—the tears that shot into your eyes.

You pressed your hand to your mouth, and wondered if your reassurance had done anything at all. If not actually you had needed it, even more than he did. 

“I think- classes was exhausting, so yeah. You know, right? So I’m gonna go to bed now,” Jungkook said, and you nodded, as if he could see you, and if you checked, you’d realise it was just eight. You bit your tongue harder.

He never liked you.

“Okay,” you squeaked out, your voice a few pitches too high. He had to know, you were sure of it. Anyone would know, even a drunk Jimin could figure it out. It was blatantly obvious, and you pressed your hand harder against your mouth, scared as you awaited what he’d say. You wouldn’t know how to answer his questions if he asked you why you cried. It would be utterly humiliating to admit why—that you knew you never meant anything to him beyond what you’d agreed upon, but that he did to you. So much, in fact. 

“Goodnight-”

You ended the call, your phone displayed his name for a few more seconds before you tossed it aside, uncaring that it bounced off your bed and you’d have to look for it later on the floor. A part of you wanted to laugh, outright laugh out loud, laugh so loud because maybe it would drown it out. Because were you not just silly? Stupid? Even more so for the tears that rolled down your face and stained your duvet three shades darker. Clear evidence of your silliness, your delusion, your unwavering and foolish hope. 

It embarrassed and humiliated you, how quickly the tears came, how his words had crashed onto you, ship-wrecked you, buried you under. His words hurt, and his dismissal even more. Two words had been enough, had pierced your heart and left you tiptoeing a cliff. Jungkook had more power than you thought he did, power he shouldn’t be holding over your head and heart to begin with. Power he shouldn’t have because you didn’t have it over him.

A text awaited you one morning, just a day before the 22nd.

[Jeon - 07:01 AM] : can i come over later tonight?

And a text was all it took.

Jungkook was not even a second late. Someone was in a hurry to get this over with, it almost made you laugh. Your doorbell rang the moment the clock turned seven. Still, you shrieked, hesitated, stared at your front door like you hadn’t known he’d come, like you hadn’t expected him to come.

You busied yourself with your phone, swiping back and forth, as he climbed up the stairs, your back turned to the door. You just couldn’t watch as he stepped inside. This was it. He’d tell you that he’d realised this had gotten too far, out of hand. You wouldn’t have to meet his parents tomorrow, you had done your part. He’d thank you, assure you he’d break the news to your friends and take the blame. It’d be alright, you wouldn’t have to do anything. And just like before you had ever talked to Jungkook at the vending machine, you’d go your own ways. 

His steps grew louder, echoed less and less until he was inside. A draft pulled through your small flat as he shut the door behind you, quiet but final. You shivered and turned off your phone, heart heavy in your chest as you prepared yourself to turn around and face him. You had thought about it all day, agonised how it’d be like to see him again the past week, how you’d handle this, how you could retain just a bit of your pride at the end of this. The scenario played over and over again in your mind—you’d look at him with a smile, tell him you understood perfectly and he didn’t need to explain. It had been stupid anyway, fun but stupid. Both of you knew this wasn’t anything really, it would come to an end. You didn’t mind it at all. 

“You know, it’s alright, Jeon. I know what you wanna-”

Jungkook wrapped his arms around you with his coat and scarf and shoes on. He pressed you to his chest, held you even tighter when you hesitated to return his hug, as if he needed to physically feel you, be sure you were there.

You hadn’t seen him all week, and all of a sudden, you didn’t know what to do around him anymore.

“Jeon?” 

“Can you hug me?” he asked you, voice barely above a whisper, and though you had been so sure about what would happen just seconds ago, pictured how your conversation would go, you realised you knew nothing at all. You did as he said, putting your arms around his middle and squeezing as tightly as you could, holding your breath even.

You didn’t know how long you stayed like this, but when you pulled away, Jungkook looked at you in a way you had never seen. He took your hands into his.

“I’m sorry, cabbage,” he began, and in the dim light, you could see his eyes glaze over. “I don’t know what’s been going on with me for the past week.”

He paused, breathed in deeply, looked to the side before returning his gaze to you. 

“I think- there’s just been a lot on my mind, and I had to figure it out first, I think,” he continued. “I-I don’t think I fully have, but I will, soon.”

You looked at him, silent for a few seconds before you nodded, brushing your thumbs over the inside of his wrists.

“That’s okay,” you told him, giving him a smile. “It’s fine. I understand.”

Truth be told, you didn’t know where you took your words from, where you dug up that reassurance again. Because you’d felt the opposite for the past week. It’d been a horrible week for you, sleepless and anxious. 

You’d been tiptoeing a thin line, wondering every second when exactly this would blow over, just how close you were to impact, when your fall would end. Would it be a text? A call? Would he just show up to your doorstep unannounced one evening after you had come back from exhausting classes and do it then? Or would it be Jimin who’d relayed the messages? Would he not tell you at all, deeming not worth the effort even? So, it had been nice to be told the truth—that things had been confusing for Jungkook and he hadn’t figured out how to navigate it all—and yet you weren’t sure if it was enough for you, if it qualmed your worries.

“I’m really sorry, cabbage,” Jungkook repeated, and you wondered what he was so sorry for that he needed to apologise twice. If maybe you were right. Why else would he feel so apologetic? Was the ending coming and he just needed some more time to figure out the order of his words, unable to bring it over his heart? 

You should ask him if the things plaguing his mind was how to end this. You should, really. Regardless of the answer, it would free you, however painful it might just be. You’d find peace. Maybe you feared the pain too much, the tears that would run down your face, the embarrassment that would rip you into pieces, or maybe you didn’t care enough for yourself to find out the truth, but you didn’t ask. 

Your smile grew bigger, and you didn’t know who you were fooling, him or you. “Don’t be. It’s okay, Jeon.”

Jungkook took your face into his hands, staring into your eyes, looking so intensely at you like he’d never before. He was searching something, and you weren’t sure if he found it, if you held whatever he looked for at all.

“It’ll be fine,” you said, and this was for you, not him. 

“It’ll be fine,” he repeated, nodding, and as he leaned closer to you, you wondered if the same would apply tomorrow. When you’d meet his parents, stand in front of them. When they’d scrutinise every little detail about you and come to their conclusion on who you were before you could even open your mouth and utter your name. 

You let Jungkook pull you into a kiss, returned it with the same intensity. Both of you needed it right now. What exactly you offered each other, you couldn’t pinpoint. But it was enough to silence your mind and his too. 

When his hands wandered, so did yours. He pushed you to your bed, and you let your mattress catch your fall. Your sweater landed on your floor, and soon the rest of your clothes followed. His coat and the scarf you had made him found its place at the foot of your bed. He struggled for a bit to kick off his boots before ultimately stumbling out of them.

Jungkook pressed kisses from your lips to your ear down to your neck and collarbone. Slowly, they wandered further down and down, stopping as he paid extra attention to the places he learned you liked, made your back arch in his favourite way and your breath hitch so beautifully in your throat. Soon, you were pleading with the Gods above, curling your hands around your duvet as Jungkook familiarised himself with you again. His hands pried you open, splitting you into two again and again, bringing you high above. You returned the favour, listened as he found religion through you, drawing out his relief until he needed your lips on his instead. By now, you knew him blindly, your hands finding the sensitive parts of him even as he carved his way back to yours.

“I’ve missed you,” Jungkook mumbled into your ear when he began moving, and you smiled, wrapped your arms around him. So had you. 

“Me too,” you returned, your hips finding a steady rhythm together. He pressed kisses to your skin, hands holding you oh so tightly like he usually would. But he hadn’t said it, hadn’t told you for the entire week, not even now when he would on any other day—that he loved you—and so maybe that was why you fell asleep with an uneasy heart. 

Had he not promised? That he’d be there for every second of the day, from the moment you woke up to the moment you went back to bed, glued to your side until you were sick of him? Was that not what he had said, the words he assured you with? So how was it that you awoke alone, like you had been for the entire past week, without him?

Jungkook wasn’t here, and yet you looked around your home like he could be hidden in some corner. He didn’t like you anymore, you were sure. Why would he? He never did to begin with. Probably regretted this more than anything else, realised just how exhausting it was to be with you. It wouldn’t be worth it. His parents wouldn’t like you, tell him that he could do better. He’d agree- actually he knew that already. Yesterday night had been a mistake, just like all the other times had been. He and you weren’t the same, never could be. Just like two mismatching puzzle pieces, you’d never make a whole picture together. You’d been right, of course. Jungkook could never like you, never saw you as anything more than a paw in this stupid cruel game between Taehyung and you. And you had been played, over and over again. How stupid of you. Foolish! This-

The blaring of your alarm brought you back to reality, the sound filling your ears. You had forgotten to turn it off. You reached for your phone, shutting it off but before you could toss it aside, you saw it. It made you pause, his name atop of your notifications. A voice memo, just over two minutes. Like it had been all you had been looking for, you hurriedly unlocked your phone. You were about to hit start, when you paused, your thumb hovering just above it. Because it could be anything—a simple breakfast run, or a goodbye. A pit grew in your stomach, and you wished he had just left you a clue about what he’d be saying in it. Your chest webbed tightly with anxiety, a rollercoaster in your throat.

You took in a deep breath, bracing yourself, eyes closed as you hit play. Whatever it might be, you’d be fine, somehow, you hoped.

“Hey, I’m so sorry—” Your chest felt so hollow, his voice unsteady. He was running, the wind blowing up the audio. He sounded far away, you had to strain to hear him properly, your phone on maximum volume. “—I know I promised to be there when you’d wake up, but—”

But I just couldn’t do this any longer. I wanted to tell you yesterday, but I just didn’t know how to. I’m sorry.

“—my mom called me. She’s having an emergency with her car, and now she’s stuck in- actually, I don’t know where, but I’m on my way there to jumpstart her car. And I thought about waking you up for it, but that felt mean and you looked so peaceful, I just couldn’t. But- it’s so cold, oh my God. Listen, I don’t know when I’ll be back, but I’m gonna hurry, okay? So just wait for me, alright? I’ll be there, I promise.”

You heard the door of his car open and close. The wind cut out, and all of a sudden it was quiet. There was ruffling, Jungkook took his phone closer to his face. He sighed, and you could see him right in front of your eyes—sitting there in his car, hair a mess on his head, as he closed his eyes to find his words, a knit between his brows.

“I’m really sorry, cabbage,” he began again. “Both for leaving now because I know I had promised I’d be there, and… again for the past week. I know I’ve been shit, and I know you’ve been confused and- I’m sorry. I haven’t been fair at all-”

Neither had you however, you realised as you listened to him talk. Of course, Jungkook had only left because his mother needed his help. How could you assume the worst of him after everything? When he was so good and kind? Had been all this time to you?

“But we will figure this out, okay?”

Jungkook paused again. You pulled your legs to your chest, burying your face into your knees, teeth sinking into your tongue.

“Let’s talk about this after today. But it’s gonna be fine. Like you said it would.”

You had lied.

“What am I talking about?” He let out a small laugh, and you knew he was shaking his head at himself. “It’s already fine.” 

You felt like a traitor. You were terrible.

“I’ll be back to pick you up, okay? So just wait for me. I hope I can get to you by two the latest. I hope it won’t take too long to figure it all out. You know, I actually don’t know how to jumpstart a car, so I really don’t know why my mom called me.”

He laughed again, and you didn’t think you could ever get the sound out of your mind. It was so pretty and melodic, so good and precious. 

“Well, anyway, I gotta get going, but I can’t wait for tonight already. I miss you.”

You missed him too, loved him even. Did he? Could he? Could you?

It was cowardly of you, hypocritical actually. But you couldn’t do it differently, didn’t have the courage to look at Jungkook and say it. The words wouldn’t leave you, you were certain, if you stood in front of him. He deserved more than a text, but more than that he deserved the truth. And the truth was you couldn’t do this, any of it in fact, not anymore. Couldn’t meet his parents, or even pretend to be his girlfriend any longer, not in good conscience. It had to end.

Your thumbs shook as you slowly found the right letters, strung together the words and sentences. You hit delete every other word, barely getting a paragraph together in almost an hour. Because worst of all, even as you tried to offer some honesty, you knew you couldn’t offer it entirely to him, couldn’t let Jungkook know just how exactly you felt, how deeply you had plunged into love with him. 

I’m sorry, Jeon, but I don’t think I can keep this going any longer. I know I said I’d meet your parents, but I think we’re just going a little too far by doing that. I hope you understand. I know I’m not fulfilling our contract and you’ll lose your bet with Taehyung and I’m really sorry, so I’ll just wire back all the money. I never touched it anyway. 

You were about to finish off the paragraph, deciding that any wishes for your future relationship as friends would be too much to ask for, thumb sliding over the glass, when your phone lit up, buzzing and ringing. And right just then, you accepted the call, your heart dropping in your chest. Your stomach twisted terribly because you couldn’t do this. How could you? Hear his voice, talk to him as if you weren’t just about to call this entire thing off over text? How could you pretend it was all fine when you’d felt gutted for the entire week?

“Hey,” Jungkook greeted you, oh so unaware. You could hear the harsh wind coming through the speaker. “I’m sorry—”

You wished he’d stop apologising. If he just knew what you’d been thinking of him for the past few days, all the assumptions you had made about him and his character, his parents too. 

“—but looks like I won’t make it by two.”

There was a sigh, and you let the silence usher Jungkook to keep on speaking, knowing your voice would merely betray you.

“I tried to jumpstart the car, but yeah, it didn’t work out. We called some people now and seems like we’re gonna have to have the car towed and fixed at the shop.”

The frustration bled through in Jungkook’s voice. It was obvious. He had spent all morning trying desperately to fix his mom’s car in the freezing cold, and now it had come to this.

“We called my dad. He’s on his way here because I still need to go back to my parents and take a shower. It’s gonna take some time—the drive to my parents, the shower and then the drive to your place—so I definitely won’t make it by two. But I should be at your place by three the latest though, I hope that’s fine?”

You closed your eyes, wondered just what exactly you were supposed to say. And so, for a while you didn’t as you gathered yourself.

“Cabbage? Are you there? Can you hear-”

“Y-yeah.” You chewed on your lip, took a few more seconds before speaking. “You… don’t have to come-”

“What? No, I promised you I’d drive you. Let me at least do that,” Jungkook insisted, and you hoped he’d just understand. How direct did you have to be? 

“It’s fine, you don’t have to,” you tried, but to no avail.

He snorted. “Cabbage, I’m driving you. No matter what. My dad’s almost here. You won’t have to wait long. I’ll probably be at your place before three actually. I shower quickly!”

You pressed your hands to your eyes until dark spots appeared, shaking your head. Why couldn’t he just understand? 

A lump knotted your throat shut, your voice wavering as you began speaking, “I-I think we should just-”

“Ah, my dad’s here! I gotta go, cabbage. But please just wait, I’ll be there soon, okay? Can’t wait to see you! It’s gonna be great. You’re gonna charm their asses off, okay?”

And before you could even protest, confess to Jungkook that you couldn’t do any of this, he had hung up. You stared as your phone displayed your lockscreen before ultimately turning black, leaving you with your reflection.

You caught yourself in your mirror, realising how puffy your eyes were. It was blatantly obvious you had cried. You were a mess, in no state to meet anyone’s parents, no less Jungkook’s perfect parents. But now you couldn’t even get yourself out of this anymore, not when you had heard his excitement again. How could you disappoint him? 

Just one more day. You’d do it for one more day, him and you. You’d just get today over with, that much you owed him, and then you’d sit him down to break it all off.

The dress was still oh so beautiful on you, harmonised perfectly with the white cropped cardigan you had picked out for today because it was, indeed, cold like Jungkook had said it was, and you really didn’t want to freeze. Your hair remained the same as always. You had thought about changing it, but decided in the end that at least your hair should be the way you were used to. Same with your jewellery, the same few pieces you wore every day adorning you today too. You kept the makeup minimal, and still it took you ages to get it done, hands shaky as you carefully drew on eyeliner and curled your lashes. 

Looking at yourself you wondered if it was enough to fool everyone, yourself possibly even that you were perfectly fine, that you fit to Jungkook, that he and you could be something more, that your background was the same as theirs, that you were just another Narae, well-off and well-travelled.

But your doubts and worries had no time to brew, your doorbell announcing Jungkook. Shrugging on your coat and slipping into the pair of black kitten heels you had borrowed from Chaeyoung, you gave yourself one more look in the mirror. You looked beautiful, you knew that. Everything about you looked so close to perfect, and yet, you felt the opposite. Today was the last time for Jungkook and you, and just the thought made you want to cry.

You shook your head, not wanting to keep Jungkook waiting any longer. It was truly cold, and you regretted your choice of shoes the moment you stepped outside, cursing yourself. The wind snaked up your legs. Maybe if you knew that this wasn’t going to be your last day together as a pretend couple, you would have run up and changed. But more than ever before, you wanted to look your best today. Because at the very least, however today might end (badly), you looked good.

Jungkook agreed, face lighting up the moment he laid his eyes on you. You tried your very best to return your smile. He looked oh so good too, wondering if he matched you on purpose. His sweater was the same deep rich red as yours, a white turtleneck layered underneath. He paired it off with some black slacks and black boots, your scarf wrapped tightly around his neck. You couldn’t look at him too long, vision beginning to swim when you did, so you focused on the ground, one step after the other.

“You’re so beautiful,” Jungkook gasped, clutching his chest and pretending to have a heart attack. 

“Thank you,” you said, speaking quietly, afraid your voice was going to betray you. “You too.”

Your compliment made his smile turn into a grin. “Well, you’re prettier.”

Usually, you’d make some snarky comment, fall into the same old banter you’d established with him long ago. Today, you could barely bring yourself to look at him. 

“Let’s-”

Jungkook cupped your face, lifting your eyes to him, forcing you to face him. His gaze turned your insides soft and puddy, hands beginning to shake by your side.

“I’m so happy, cabbage,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your lips. It almost made you cry. You screwed your eyes shut. Before the kiss could go on longer, devastate you more, crush you further, you pulled away.

“I-I’ve got lipgloss on,” you mumbled, giving Jungkook a short smile before stepping aside to walk to his car. He laughed behind you, telling you how he didn’t mind at all, but still, he followed you.

Just as you were about to reach for the car door, he did it for you. Always the gentleman. You paused for a second, surprised (why were you?), before climbing inside, heart heavy as you waited for him to just close the car door. Jungkook didn’t though, drawing your eyes back to him.

“Are you sure about the shoes?” he asked you, brows furrowed together. “It’s cold. You’re not even wearing stockings.”

You felt even more self-conscious all of a sudden, tucking your feet underneath the seat, cheeks warming and heart thrumming. These shoes were the only ones that fit with your outfit. You didn’t have an extensive shoe collection, anything you could change into now wouldn’t match. It’d be a waste not to wear them, especially after you had asked Chaeyoung to borrow them.

“Y-yeah, it’s fine.”

Jungkook seemed to disagree, still standing there with the car door in his hand, and when he opened his mouth, you knew he was going to argue with you.

“I really-”

“It’s fine,” you repeated, reaching for the door handle. “Let’s just go. We’re gonna be late.”

The frown didn’t disappear from his face, but he conceded, albeit with a sigh. His hand squeezed yours, and you flinched, pulling it away as if he burned you. Jungkook stopped, eyes shooting to yours.

Your heart dropped in your chest. Oh no. 

You put on your brightest and biggest smile. “Sorry, your hand’s just super cold,” you laughed. 

Jungkook blinked before smiling, “Ah, sorry.”

With that he shut the car door, and you pulled the seat belt across your body, readying your words on your tongue that you had thought of this entire time.

I’m super tired. Do you mind if I sleep during the ride?

It was a blatant lie. Every nerve and fibre of your body was lit up, wired tightly. You couldn’t find sleep even if you laid in your bed now. The thought of having to talk to Jungkook for the entirety of the car ride, however, turned your stomach upside down. 

You decided to wait for him to put on the seat belt first before saying it, needing a few more seconds to rid the knot from your throat. From the corner of your eye, you watched as he climbed inside, putting his key into the ignition, rubbing his hands together. But rather than reach for the seat belt, Jungkook fumbled with the console, turning on the heat, carefully turning the knob back and forth. Warm air started blasting from the heaters immediately, wrapping you up from every direction.

“Do you want the seat warmer too?”

He looked at you so sincerely. You crumbled almost.

“I-It’s okay.”

“Just say a word and I’ll change it, okay? Don’t want you freezing,” he said before strapping the seat belt across his chest. You turned to the window. 

Your voice wavered slightly. “Uh, I’m super tired. Do you mind if I sleep during the ride?”

“Oh, yeah, no, totally. Get some sleep. I’ll wake you up when we’re there. Gonna take a while anyway.”

You hummed in response, frowning when you saw Jungkook rub his hands together, blowing into them, even holding them up to the heaters for a few seconds. Before you could wonder for too long, he took your hand into his, thumb brushing back and forth.

“Warm enough?”

He said it with such a beautiful smile. It shattered you. You merely nodded before turning away, eyes closing shut, a lump stuck in your throat. The gesture, however small, dug into your heart like a knife. He was so nice, so kind, so good. And for the past week, you had thought the worst of him. 

You knew you had arrived even before Jungkook parked the car. The engine slowly shut off, keys jangling when he pulled them out. You heard the click of his seat belt, some shuffling, and your heart beat faster as you waited for him to wake you up. Truth be told, you hadn’t thought this through. How were you going to convince him that you had slept this entire time when you hadn’t even for a single second? The last time you had pretended to sleep in the car was when you were seven and didn’t want to go to school. And even then, it hadn’t worked, your mother seeing right through you.

Jungkook had held your hand the entire ride. You had so gotten used to the feeling of his warmth that when he slowly pried his hand out of yours, you felt oddly cold. For a second, you thought you had to have imagined it when you heard the car door open. But when the sound of it softly closing followed, you knew you hadn’t. Maybe he wanted to come around and then wake you up?

You waited a few more seconds but when your car door remained shut, you slowly peeled your eyes open. Once again, Jungkook wasn’t there. But your attention turned to the house across the street instead. Jisoo and Chaeyoung had, of course, asked for Jungkook’s address—Just in case. He had happily sent it to them, and you too if you wanted to forward it to anyone else too. (The fact that Jisoo was over an hour's train ride away didn’t matter by the way.) You couldn’t recall the address, but you did remember the house number, and you were definitely staring at the right house right now.

It was bigger than you could have imagined it to be. It was so absurdly big, almost cartoonishly so. Even more so because it was decked out with all kinds of Christmas lights and stockings. You doubted no second the inside rivalled Chaeyoung’s and Jisoo’s home. But however ridiculous it was to you, this was Jungkook’s childhood home, the house where he grew up in. Where he spent his childhood and teenage years. This particular house. A house. Whilst you grew up in a flat, just with enough space to cram in your little family.

You saw him then, standing next to the expensive car parked in the driveway. Jungkook opened the car door to the passenger seat, and a second later, his mother stepped out. He offered her his hand, earning himself a big smile from her. From inside the car, you couldn’t hear what she said, but you could imagine it. She was right, he was a great son. 

Jungkook looked a lot like his mother, you realised. She had gifted him with her kind eyes and soft big smile. No wonder, her son was so beautiful. She was an elegant woman. It was obvious. The kind of woman that wore cashmere sweaters, baked fresh bread every Sunday, made sure to do her skincare routine every morning and night, expensive creams and serums lining her bathroom cupboard. Not a single hair on her head was grey. She was the perfect wife and mother.

From the driver's seat, a man emerged, Jungkook’s dad. There was a hint of grey colouring his hair, but he pulled it off well. He was shorter than Jungkook by a bit, but you could see right away where Jungkook got his confidence from. For a moment, you wondered if that was how Jungkook would look like when he was older. Would he resemble his father? His dad quickly rounded the car, greeting his son with a hug before taking his wife’s hand into his. He had a kind smile too, you noticed. Of course, he did.

Jungkook had to have said something particularly funny because both his parents erupted into laughter. You looked away, closing your eyes. 

What were you doing here?

The question blared louder than ever before. Could you really do this? Fool everyone? Yourself too? The answer was obvious to you as you looked ahead. A part of you wished you had come to that conclusion before you had gotten into the car. You didn’t know your way around this neighbourhood (of course, not), but you knew you had to get away from here either way.

You stepped out of the car, quietly shutting the door. He couldn’t see, couldn’t know. You had to get away, now.

“Where’s your girlfriend, Kook?” 

His father’s voice made you pause. Jungkook sounded so much like him.

“In the car. She’s sleeping.”

“Are you not gonna wake her up? At least, let her come inside and sleep inside. It’s so cold.”

“No, I was gonna, but then I saw you and dad pull up,” Jungkook explained, his voice carried to you through the wind. His car offered you enough coverage to hide and at the same time allowed a clear view of Jungkook and his parents. “Also, I was gonna get her another pair of shoes. She’s wearing heels.”

His mother gasped. “In this weather? Does she at least have stockings on?” When he shook his head, she gasped again. “No, that’s not good. You better get her another pair of shoes. She’s gonna freeze!”

“I know- ah, I turned off the heat!” Jungkook touched his forehead as if to say how stupid of him. 

You pressed your lips together, teeth sinking into your tongue. The guilt clawed up your throat, raw and red. It hurt, so much so that you didn’t even feel the cold wind on your feet and up your legs, or the way they ached from the unnatural arch the heels forced them into. 

“Go get your girlfriend some shoes,” Jungkook’s father told him. “I’ll get the groceries-”

“What? No, let me, dad. I can do both. I’ll be quick.”

“It’s fine, Kook. We don’t want your girlfriend freezing.” His mother placed her hand on his shoulder. But like the good son he was, he wasn’t having it, already moving to open the trunk.

“It’s okay. I turned off the car just now, and she’s been sleeping peacefully this entire time. I’ll be quick,” Jungkook insisted. “You guys get inside.”

His parents looked at him with a sigh, realising defeat. Jungkook’s father handed him the car keys.

“Well, you better be quick. You know we can’t wait to meet Y/N.”

And with that, they walked inside, hand in hand. Your heart shattered, your name rolling so easily off their lips. It was so odd to hear them say it, hear with how much kindness they did. 

You should just go now, take this opportunity to run, but your feet remained cemented, your eyes following Jungkook as he brought the first two bags up to the front door before grabbing the last two out of the car. Moving his foot underneath the sensor, the trunk closed automatically. You knew nothing about cars but you knew that such a feature didn’t come with most, and was definitely not cheap either.

Right now, looking ahead of you, you could see for the first time clearly just how different Jungkook and you were. There were two different worlds between you, a distance that no one could cross, no less a relationship that wasn’t genuine to begin with. It had been nice and fun, foolishly nice and fun, to pretend all this time, but in the end it had been foolish more than anything. 

Why you didn’t move still remained a mystery to you. Maybe your feet had really frozen to the sidewalk, the heels one of your worst ideas yet, or maybe you simply couldn’t do it, bring it over your heart to just walk away. Maybe you just needed a little more, of him and you. You knew these few seconds would be the last ones of peace before it would all crumble. The illusion would shatter. He and you would be done, forever. There would be no more hangouts together with all your friends, no more cookies and Avatar marathons, no more kisses and hugs. 

Jungkook and you would dissolve, just as quickly as it had all begun in that library with a notebook and pen. 

Jungkook was about to turn around and close the door and he’d see you, standing there on the sidewalk with your eyes set straight on him. He’d see you and he’d smile and put down the bags and walk over to you and ask you why you were standing there and why did you get out of the car and how cold it was. How stupid and silly of you! 

He’d come over and bring you into a hug and his lips would ghost over the crown of your head and you’d cave and melt and you’d go in and meet his family and it’d hurt so much to tell Jungkook’s parents what your parents did when they’d inevitably ask you because of course they would and you’d have to see as they realised that your parents didn’t get to enjoy higher education. They’d be silent for a few seconds before nodding and smiling. They’d quickly change the topic because it was better to talk about something else and oh I heard something so interesting on the news recently, did you hear?

But you didn’t move, even as Jungkook turned, arms heavy with grocery bags, and lifted his head, eyes meeting yours as you predicted he would. His lips lifted up into a smile, a smile bigger than you’d expected. He didn’t move though. Instead he blurred into a heap of colours.

You could no longer do this.

The image of him cleared as the first tears fell, and you watched as his face crumbled while he watched your chest heave up and down, sobs pushing out from your throat. 

Jungkook let go of the grocery bags, the contents spilling out. When he took his step towards you, you did too, away from him. He stilled, frozen. Why, you could see it on his face. Why were you crying? Why were you moving away from him? He deserved answers, an explanation, but the most you could muster up right now was the shake of your head.

No.

And then you took off. 

“Y/N!” 

You pressed your hand to your lips, scared of filling the street with your gut wrenching sobs. Tears kept streaming down your face, hot and heavy. 

You did feel sorry for doing this to Jungkook. But you had to. Because he wasn’t going to. It had to be you. You who finally saw the truth in the eye that this was ridiculous, that this had gone off the rails, that Jungkook and you should have never gotten to this point, to where you found comfort in his arms and he knew your favourite cookies and you showed him your home and he knew more than he should about you. To the point where you had shared the bed together and knew the softness of the other’s lips. To the point where you had irrevocably and undeniably and unfortunately fallen for Jungkook.

You were in love with Jeon Jungkook, and it was the worst thing you could have done to yourself-

“Y/N!”

And it was affirmed when he seized your elbow and turned you around. You didn’t make it very far. Your eyes locked with his, and you could see it in them. How this was going to end. How this had to end, now. 

You were reminded of when you ran out on Jaehwa after seeing him for the first time again. It was what you always did, you realised. Run. 

You just never expected you’d have to run out on Jungkook too.

His eyes, wide and big, searched your face, for something to give him a clue as to what was going on in the head of yours, anything. He didn’t understand. 

You pulled away from him as if his touch burned you, pushed him away.

“Why? What’s wrong?” he asked, frantic, reaching out for you again, but you couldn’t let him touch you, tumbling backwards. Hurt flashed across his features, but this was for the best. Why did you have to be this dramatic? How stupid of you!

“I-I can’t,” you stuttered, shaking your head, dragging your coat sleeve frantically on your cheeks. “I-I just can’t.”

Jungkook stared at you, face twisting and morphing into emotions you couldn’t decipher. You had never really understood him anyway.

“O-okay, hey, that’s fine.”

Who would have thought this would hurt so much to hear?

“That’s alright.”

He should be furious, absolutely and utterly mad with you. You had just run away. If he hadn’t caught you, he would have had to somehow explain to his parents why his so-called perfect girlfriend was suddenly gone. And yet, he met you with empathy and kindness. Jungkook was so good, so precious. He was so much better than you, deserved more. 

“I’ll give you a ride home-”

“No!” you screamed, lungs heaving for air, chest rising and falling dramatically. You shook your head, repeated it again, quieter this time. “No, you don’t understand.”

Jungkook stared at you, mouth opening and closing. “Okay, then explain. But let’s do this in the car-”

“Why are you like this?” You threw the question at his head, venomous and bitter. The anger wasn’t fair, shouldn’t be aimed at him at all. What had he done to deserve it? And yet, you couldn’t find it in you to shift the target. “What are we doing?”

His brows knitted together, the knit deepening. “I-I don’t know what you mean.” You looked at him as if he should. “Can we get to the car first, cabbage-”

You flinched. How could he still call you that? 

“This is so stupid,” you scoffed, shaking your head, eyes looking at everything but him. The cold wind blew your tears away, and your cheeks felt raw from all of the rubbing and dragging. “I- this is so wrong on so many levels. Why am I even here? What are we even doing? Why are you like this?”

“You don’t want to meet my parents, that’s fine. I really think we should get to the car-”

“Why? Because you don’t want your neighbours and parents to see what crazy person you’ve brought home?”

“What? No! Who said that? I wanna get to the car because it’s freezing cold and you only have a coat and heels on-”

“Oh, please, Jeon!” The laugh slipping from your lips made Jungkook flinch. It was so mean, filled with so much spite. “Don’t pretend to be good. What a cheap and pathetic act!”

None of the words you spoke were truthful. You didn’t know where you pulled them from, you didn’t believe any of them. All of them were hollow and mean. But maybe they’d be enough though to bring out anger within Jungkook, make him come to the same realisation as you had—that he and you had to end. But knowing him, he’d meet you with empathy and kindness over and over again. 

He had to hate you. 

You had to make him hate you. Otherwise, this would never find an end. Otherwise, he’d convince you of the opposite, and you’d never be able to let go of him. Otherwise, you’d lose yourself completely to him.

And when you looked at Jungkook, you knew you were right. Because there was no no fire in his eyes, nothing. He still stared at you the same way he used to. Even after you had called him names. Hating you was the only option.

“I really think we should just talk this out another time.”

Defeat, you realised, contorted his features. Not anger. Not spite. None of it. Just defeat. You closed your eyes, shaking your head.

“You’re clearly not in the best of moods and saying stuff that you don’t mean. I don't know what’s going on, but let me just give you a ride home and we’ll figure this out another-”

“Figure out what?” You leaned forward, gestured wildly around yourself. “We? Oh, please, Jeon, there’s no fucking ‘we’. Don’t make me laugh!”

He shook his head, hands running through his hair. 

“I really don’t think you mean any of this, Y/N. I know this entire situation must be bringing up bad memories for you- I know Jaehwa hurt you-”

“What? This has nothing to do with him,” you scoffed, narrowing your eyes, the words pushing through your clenched teeth like a bullet out of a gun. “What do you know, Jeon? What do you really know, huh? Actually, how can you know anything? You with your perfect stupid fucking family with a house oh so big because you just had to show everybody how you were better and richer and greater. What do you know about anything, really?”

You weren’t making sense, but you could see a change in Jungkook’s face, the flicker in his eyes as you mentioned his family. Bullseye.

“Miss me with that bullshit. You’re the kind of people I hate. It’s all so fake and condescending- fuck, you’re so stupidly loaded you’re paying me to pretend to date you so you can win a stupid shitty bet with Taehyung. Your parents must be so proud of their great great son.”

He closed his eyes, screwed them so tightly shut in hopes that maybe if he did so long enough, this would turn out to be a bad dream. This wasn’t happening. Things weren’t falling apart like that. They couldn’t. His hands curled into fists.

“Now you can’t even look at me, Jeon?” you sneered, voice and words growing more and more vicious. “Can’t face the truth, right? You pretend to be so good, so kind. But for fuck’s sake, look at the house you grew up in! Look at where I live! You’re the same as Jaehwa- actually, no because at the very least, he didn’t pretend like he and I weren’t different. You should have some shame, but I guess with parents-”

“Y/N!”

Your name cut through the air, and for once, you stopped and breathed. Jungkook had peeled his eyes open again, teeth gritted, jaw pulled taunt, hands curled into tight fists. 

“I really think it’d be better if you stopped talking now.”

And yet, it wasn’t the response you wanted.

You could have cried then, bawled, fallen to your knees and just admitted to it all. How much you did love him and how much you wanted him, but couldn’t have him because this just wasn’t going to work because he never really did love you and neither would his parents. He and you were doomed, like the moon and the sun. He just would never see it, too idealistic for his own good. Your blatant and devastating flaws. You weren’t good or kind. You had to be the one to pull the plug, to call this what it was—wrong.

“Yeah, of course, you’d say that,” you mumbled, the tip of your shoes digging into the concrete, rolling back and forth. The scratching sound it produced soothed you oddly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You know what I mean. You rich people just can’t ever face the truth-”

“No, you idiot!” 

His voice echoed through the empty street, loud and clear. Anger and disdain coloured his words, features twisting and knits deepening. There it was, finally. The anger and upset you had waited and waited for, the blow of the bomb, the finale. 

“I think you should stop talking because I love you and I don’t want my heart broken any further!”

Jungkook was so loud. You had never heard him so loud before, yell like that, tell you so abundantly clear that he loved you. It was the declaration of declarations, blaring and grand. You had wanted to hear it, needed to hear it all this time, all this week—that he loved you—and now when you finally did, it was truly the worst thing anyone had ever told you ever. Because it was everything you wished for, but you couldn’t have it, none of it. It wasn’t real, and even if it was, even if he meant it and he loved you, you couldn’t be with him. The truth didn’t matter. You were too damaged, too broken, too fucked up to never not doubt Jungkook, not to fear that he’d leave at any point. 

You’d never trust him.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you!” He pointed at you, face scrunched and eyes red, tears welling. “I thought we had gotten past this- isn’t it obvious that I do really love-”

“Oh, please. You goddamn liar!” Your voice shook, broke in your throat and mouth, head spinning. You were losing Jungkook, spectacularly so. “What do you know about love? This is an act, Jeon! You’re not in love with me! You’re in love with an act! You’re in love with the idea of winning your stupid bet with-”

“No, no-”

“Yes, Jeon, you don’t know shit. You pretend like you do- think you do when in reality, you don’t know anything about me. Who am I if not just a pawn in your game? Someone you paid, so you could boast and brag that you didn’t get rejected, huh?”

Jungkook licked his lips, veins bulging in his neck as he tried his very best to not go too far, implode on you, hands digging into the roots of his hair. “No, that’s not true. The bet between Tae and me—”

“Actually, you know what? I don’t even care. Because all of it is wrong. It’s not what we agreed upon-”

“Okay, yeah, so we weren’t supposed to kiss and spend time together privately, or sleep with each other and talk on the phone for hours. But look at us now!” He pointed between him and you, as if there was something between you. “We did it all, okay? And? Was it so bad?”

His eyes fixed yours, so deeply. He took a step towards you, and you didn’t back away, couldn’t.

“You call me a liar when I tell you I love you—” His voice shook, trembled terribly, and you could see Jungkook fight to find the right words, struggle to speak. It pained you to know it was all because of you. How easy would it be to take it all back? Admit fault and go back? But would it be right? “—but tell me then, why are you looking at me like that?”

You tried a laugh. A laugh that was meant to dismiss it all, deny the truth, but it sounded hollow and wrong. You couldn’t even look him in the eyes, beginning to crumble. And Jungkook saw right through you.

“Look at me and tell me you don’t feel something!” 

You closed your eyes, crossing your arms in front of your stomach. The world began to spin faster and faster, and you felt like you were losing the ground underneath yourself.

“You’re not being fair,” you whispered, shaking your head. You were speaking much quieter now, your voice having lost all of its bite and edge. This had been harder than you expected. “You’re breaking the contract-”

“Oh my God, will you forget about that? Both of us broke it a long time ago, willingly! Can you please just forget about all of it—the contract, the bet—and look at the facts?”

Jungkook was begging at this point. Would you come to your senses?

“Do you really genuinely think that the past weeks- months didn’t mean anything to me? That it was really all just pretend? That I lied about all of it? That I’m really such a big asshole that I’d pretend to be in love with you this entire time, call you daily, buy you your favourite cookies, hold your hand and kiss you and tell you—” This seemed to drain Jungkook of everything, voice trembling as he presented the worst version of himself to you. “—over and over again that I love you?”

He leaned forward, searched for your eyes. 

It was right in front of you—a white flag up in the air, for you to grab and hiss. You could do it now, he’d forgive you, you were certain of that. Jungkook was still kind enough to do so, his heart ready to let you back in. You wouldn’t even need to say anything, just falling into his arms would suffice. It’d be so easy. Simple, in fact. He’d let you do it, take your silent defeat as an apology. You’d never have to talk about it ever again. It was tempting, slip back into what you were before as if you weren’t aware that he and you were two parallel lines never meant to cross. Jungkook would never be tempted to take this way out, he’d stand straight for what he’d said, repent. The thought to take the easy way out would never cross his mind. It did yours.

“Y-yeah, I do.”

Jungkook shook his head, mouth set in a line.

“You don’t mean that-”

“Yes, I do-”

“Y/N, no, no, you-”

“Stop,” you laughed, shaking your head. “Stop insisting that I don’t mean it. I do. I-”

It was so ironic. It felt like the entire universe was mocking you, laughing at the two of you. This was what  Jungkook had wished for him and you, imagined how beautiful it would be, how you’d sit together in front of the window and watch before he’d suggest to go outside and you’d follow happily. You’d dance and play until neither of you could feel your hands and your cheeks were rough and raw from the cold wind. You’d yearn for the warm, shiver as you stepped inside, but you’d be happy. So very happy. But now it felt like a stab to your hearts instead. 

The first few snowflakes softly landed on your sleeve. It was so beautiful. The entire street would be white in a few hours, kids would come out to play soon.

“I’ll pay you back.” You took a step back, rubbed away the tears that wanted to spill. “See it as compensation for… not meeting your parents.”

Jungkook couldn’t respond, teeth sinking into his tongue, biting on the muscle until it hurt too much. 

“That’s not- that’s not the point. I don’t care for the money, I just-” He deflated. “Just-just meet them, Y/N. Give them a chance, please. You’ll realise- they’re gonna love-”

He stopped when you shrunk in on yourself, vehemently shaking your head. Neither of you said anything, just allowing the snow to fall around you and cover you in white. You’d be shivering in just a few minutes, hair and skin wet, feet shaky on the cold ground. 

Jungkook looked down, hands in his pockets, shoulders slumped. 

“Okay.”

You stood there as you waited for him to turn his back to you and walk away, waited and waited to be finally alone. He’d do it and you’d be alone and you’d be proven right, vindicated. Relief would flood you, knowing you had seen it coming, had always known correctly, protected you, at least, this time of hurt and-

The keys looked cold to the touch.

“Take them. Wait in the car. Call Chae or whoever to come pick you up. You can leave the keys in the car. I’ll get them later.”

Jungkook was ordering you, telling you what to do. And though he spoke with finality, allowing no room for you to disagree, his voice trembled and shook. You didn’t have to look to know the tears staining his cheeks, to know how much you had hurt him, realise that in your quest to do the best for both him and you because he deserved better and not be hurt and left in the end, you had done just that to Jungkook, plunged the knife into his heart and pushed it further even as he spat out blood. 

“It’s fine, I can-”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence before Jungkook grabbed your hand and placed the keys into your palm, forcing your fingers shut around them with his own. His touch sent sparks through your body. It’d be the last time he’d ever touch you, you realised, and before you could stop it, the tears spilt. But you didn’t let out a noise, kept your head low and eyes even lower. 

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

Jungkook hesitated before letting go, his feet dragging as he walked away.

Maybe it was you holding the gun, not Jungkook.

→ thanks for reading !! if you have any thoughts, id love to hear it!

[ciciyup]

Yandere! Apollo X fem! Human reader headcanons.

cw: Little nsfw, obsession, possessiveness, dark themes, cheating? (I don't know how I should categorize it, but it's not a direct hoax), angst, kidnapping, forced marriage.

🏹 a/n: This is the first yandere! What do I do, I hope I did well. I was feeling quite inspired so I think a little story formed as well.

━━━━━━✧ 🦢 ✧━━━━━━

Apollo has never been one to worry, he is the epitome of beauty, no other God in the pantheon was as beautiful as he was. Being surrounded by women and men who are not only there beside him, but also queue for his attention, is something Apollo enjoys, attention and all eyes on him was something he loved.

He doesn't need to lower himself and have less, he must have all the best, that includes the most beautiful people, which was not a problem. Nymphs, goddesses and even mortals, rained down on him in droves, although the latter could not matter less to him.

Sometimes, among the millions of mortals that inhabited the earth, Apollo chose those who could stand out the most and had a unique beauty to take them with him. Sure they had always been adventures, he had fun with them, but that was all.

On one of his many trips around the earth he found you. He saw you picking oranges from a large tree, carefully storing them in your basket that was almost full. You were... Perfect. Your hair moved in time with the pleasant breeze of the day, your eyes were brighter than the stars, your smile could heal sore eyes, your voice was like hearing the singing of angels. You were so beautiful.

He didn't care much about you at first if he had to admit it. You seemed very common, very normal, just another mortal woman, however, something made him go to you. He didn't need to do much, just introduce himself and talk nonsense. You were nothing but nice and kind, you offered to help him find his way if he was lost, you asked him if he was hungry and offered him an orange.

He just looked for silly excuses to make more time and get to know you better, he lamented when you told him that your family was waiting for you and you couldn't stay. He watched your form as you left his vision until you were lost, your beautiful floral dress disappearing into the crowd and being replaced by sad shades of colors from people walking on their own path.

What made you so special? Was it the way you were so kind and modest with everyone else? Was it the way you saw things? Apollo, not having enough, kept seeing you regularly on different occasions, strangely always appearing out of nowhere when you were alone in some places or doing your own tasks. At first, it didn't seem strange to you, you thought it was just a coincidence, which made Apollo take advantage of your naivety even more.

Apollo thought you would fall at his feet as soon as he saw you, he wouldn't even need three days to leave you enchanted, but then it happens and he hits reality. He discovers that you are not interested in him in the slightest, at least not in the way he wants. You don't even worship the gods, you're not interested in them, you don't bring offerings or pray to them like other mortals. You don't lose yourself in him, you don't beg for attention, you don't adore him, you just see him as if he were just another man and that made Apollo's blood boil.

So when Apollo proposes to you and to go with him, you politely decline, feeling flattered, but refusing because you don't love him and you don't feel the same way. Apollo's face contorts, his brow furrows quickly and he tries to hide his inner side as best he can. His ego felt hurt, was he rejected by a mere mortal?

You move on with your life, Apollo seemed to have taken it well and wasn't upset, that's what you believed after he left. When you think everything is fine, he arrives silently to take what is his, what belonged to him from the beginning. No more games, there would be no more facades of the just and understanding God, he lets the true face of the coin come to light, then you don't have time to react.

He takes you, sees you walking towards your house and surprises you there. Your basket falls with a thud and the fruit falls scattered all over the floor, but no one else was there anymore.

Upon arriving at his kingdom, Apollo introduces you to it as your new home, showing you all the places keeping you close, holding your wrist so you wouldn't run away, even though there was nowhere to run, you were too far from earth and you wouldn't be coming back, he would make sure of that.

You resist for a long time, you don't want to talk to him or look at him or kiss him or touch him, you don't want his presence. Apollo doesn't want to be mean to you, he really doesn't, but your impertinence pissed him off, and when you didn't learn things there were consequences.

He pushes you into a room after you refused to sleep with him in what would be your shared room, the room was cold and almost empty, it had a mirror and a small couch, it didn't seem to be very frequented by anyone, since you could even see cracks in the walls. He dared to leave you there for almost four days, without seeing you even once, without leaving you food or water or any other basic resources, and when he decided to see you, believing that you had learned your lesson, he found you on the floor of the room almost dying.

You were pale, your lips dry, you could barely move, your stomach hurt from the lack of food and your throat was crying out for some water.

As he carried you to his shared room and laid you there, as he watched you eat the food voraciously and drink more than six glasses of water, as he watched you rest covered by the finest and warmest blankets on his bed, yes, now you would learn that things would be his way, you had no say in any decision, you would only focus on him.

And even after you became his beloved, faithful and devoted wife with the finest jewelry and the most beautiful dresses, he would remain the same, not even for you would he change. As you sat on a rock in front of the beautiful landscape of the place thinking about everything he had taken from you, Apollo was no less than a meter away from you in the hot springs with the nymphs at his side, each one laughing and talking to him, hugging and tracing his chest with their thumbs at the slightest opportunity. He relaxed with each one, every now and then, ignoring your presence, ignoring your pain.

Still, he refused to let you go. He didn’t care about silly nymphs, they were just for hanging out and feeling adored, if he didn’t have you he had nothing. He wanted you by his side, in the hot springs, on another throne next to him, in meetings with other gods, he wanted you.

It was only a matter of time, he would fuck you so hard you would carry his child and then he would finally have you with no chance of escape. He would take you every night in his marital bed and fill your belly until it was full and swollen, he would bury himself deep inside you to fill you again and again with his seed and he would claim you. You were his. You were from the first moment he saw you.

━━━━━━✧ 🦢 ✧━━━━━━

🏹 a/n: I didn't think I would like it so much but in the end I really liked the result. I wrote it in less than two hours, although it is revised I am sorry if there are any errors. I was thinking of doing more yandere! For other characters, I like the theme. I have ideas for the next one so wait for it (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡

—cici🏹

[tasiawrites]

Slashers and their black partner getting their hair and nails done

ft. Brahms Heelshire, Micheal Myers, Jason Voorhes, Thomas Hewitt, Vincent Sinclair and Billy Loomis + Stu Matcher

contains: general fluff, poly Ghostface (i think that's it idk let me know)

Brahms Heelshire

you had to sneak out at 3 am even to be able to leave to get them done in the first place.

did three days worth of food prep only to be back in under 26 hours

Brahms was NOT happy and wanted to hurt you but then his brain clicked

loves the feeling of your nails on his scalp, might forgive you (if you give him some extra kisses)

likes playing with your hair, even if you say no you owe him

will allow you to get them done every two months ONLY because he likes the feeling of you playing in his hair with your nails done.

"kiss?" Brahms asked in his childlike voice as he stood at the foot of your bed later that night. you rolled your eyes at his voice decision after his behavior earlier but allowed him into your bed for late-night cuddles. you placed a few kisses on his porcelain mask. "I'm sorry for leaving without telling you Brahmsy," you coaxed running your fingers through his hair as he settled in next to you. 

Micheal Myers

didn't even notice you were gone until he did the math, trips to the store DO NOT take 10 hours

hoe where is you at?

He kinda sulking when you get back

likes the hair didn't notice the nails AT ALL

pulls a single braid every chance he gets and he pulls it HARD

he learns that 10+ hours out means a new hairstyle to fuck with, sometimes he follows you

"oh come on Michael," you rolled your eyes at the sulking man on your couch. he doesn't even look at you until you stand directly in front of him. he ignores you and you eventually give up and continue about your evening. that is until you felt a tug on a braid that slipped out of your bonnet. a hard tug. you turn to find a smug-looking Micheal with the end in his hand. well, at least he's not mad. it took him until the third day to realize your nails were done.

Billy Loomis and Stu Matcher

you did tell them, they just forgot 

you come back and they acting like you went missing for nine years

Stu loves the hair while Billy loves the nails

you spend the next few hours giving kisses and being showered with praise

every other time you go at least one of them goes with you

you walked into Stu's house slightly confused at the silence. you were just about to call one of them when Billy came barreling down the stairs half dressed in his Ghostface costume. "um.. hi?" you tried as he quickly began searching you for injuries as Stu came down the stairs asking too many questions in quick succession.  after calming them down, you sat between them as they played with your hair and nails respectively. 

Thomas Hewitt

The Texas heat was making your hair hard to maintain so you asked Luda Mae if you could get a few days off so you could fix that

you had to go three towns over to get it done

to thank her you got Hoyt to drop Luda Mae off so you both could manicures and pedicures

Thomas was too excited to see you after three days to realize your hair was done

when he did he spent an unnatural amount of time just, looking at you??

he's so in love

also loves it when your nails massage his head, especially after a long day at work

misses you every time you leave but he gets to see a new hairstyle so it balances out, he does miss playing with your natural hair tho

"hi Tommy," you whisper as he crawls into bed next to you. he gathers you up into his arms and you give him a soft smile. he connects his lips to yours and you run your fingers through his hair and rub on his scalp. he shudders and a low sound of approval climbs out of his throat.

Vincent Sinclair

I mean he doesn't stop you from going anywhere, he's just pouty about it

spends the night you spent in the other town making wax figurines of you

he's so happy when you get back

you get your nails the color of his eye, a lovely brown with a pretty white design to accompany it.

absolutely obsessed with your hair. 

like he likes the nails but by god does he love your hair

the next time you go hes vibrating with excitement, he can't wait to see what you do next

"Vinny?" you call as you walk down into the basement. it did not take long for Vincent to come around the corner looking as excited as someone with a mask on his face could look. with hasty footsteps, he approached you hands fidgeting in excitement. it only took a small nod from you to have the lanky man all over you. he took your hand in his and watched the nails closely before his fingers played with your hair. the next morning you found a small wax figurine of yourself on your bedroom side table.

Jason Voorhees

poor baby, you almost gave him a heart attack

he thought you left him

sulky large man

when you come back he's like O-O 

very happy, thinks you're so pretty

puts flowers in your hair and is very gentle with it

likes to see your nails when you hold his hands

please give him a heads-up next time

he waits with wildflowers for you to return

Jason's fingers clumsily placed another flower in your hair. it dislodged another one that you quickly caught and handed back to him. it took a few more flowers for him to be satisfied and when he was he gave a grunt and lifted you to your feet. "ready to go home?" you asked the large man as he intertwined his finger with yours happily rubbing his thumb over the smoothness of your nails.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

this has nothing to do with the poll, it has been stewing in my drafts for a minute

POLY GHOSTFACE IS THE ONLY CORRECT OPTION good night

n e way lemme go study for my exams

[nats-firefly]

the bet

sorority!wandanat x reader

summary: tri delta and delta nu have a bet, you get caught in the cross fire

warnings: power bottom!wandanat, choking, smut 18+ only

a/n: repost! they're back

🚩 warnings are clearly stated please do not report/flag :) 🚩

words: 2.7 k | feedback is always welcome | masterlist

divider source | gif source

Delta Nu and Tri Delta were known as the rival sororities on campus. Always the two every girl wanted to get into, the two to raise the most funds for whatever cause and the two who were always at each other’s throats. One week, the heads of the two sororities met and made a bet. Celibacy week. The house that broke first would have to give up their summer funding for parties, only relying on future fundraisers for party budget.

Usually, these bets wouldn’t affect you all that much. You even liked them sometimes, Natasha would get especially frustrated when things didn’t go her way and she would always come to her trusty roommate for some… stress relief.

But this bet, this bet sucked. 

Not only was Natasha extremely sexually frustrated and on edge, but you had also found yourself becoming dependant on both Natasha and Wanda for your own stress relief. And now neither of them could come to your aid.

You tried though. And you were persistent. But Natasha is a more determined when she’s pissed off. And there was nothing that pissed her off more than having to share you. She noticed how much you would be on your phone and how you spent more and more time out of the apartment, and how your dirty laundry would have the faint smell Natasha recognized from meetings with Delta Nu.

You snaked your hands onto Natasha’s hips, pressing her between your body and the counter, making sure the outline of the silicone toy between your legs was clearly felt through your sweatpants. Natasha whimpered, her hips subconsciously pressing back against you. She turned around in your hold, her hand coming up to grip your throat and pull you towards her.

You turned her towards the kitchen island, hooking your hands under her thighs and propping her up. Her fingers pressed the sides of your throat and you moaned into her mouth, your lips moving perfectly against each other. She bucked her hips closer to the edge, feeling your cool fingertips sliding up her thigh. 

All of a sudden, Natasha clenched her thighs shut, trapping your hand between her thighs as she pushed you away from her with clenched eyes. Her hand loosened its grip on your throat as your other hand slid down her leg. 

“I can’t let her win this too,” You tilted your head, about to ask her what she meant when she hopped down from the counter, giving you a peck on the cheek before walking into her room. 

You frustratedly closed the door to your room, plopping down on your bed and pulling out your phone, starting to text the only other woman who could tend to your needs at the moment.

it’s just a stupid bet, what’s the big deal? nobody has to know, wanda

You rolled your eyes, waiting patiently for the three little dots to appear.

did you forget you live with one of them 

she has a name you know

whatever it is, no. I can’t.

I’ll get rid of her, please?

Wanda tapped her fingertips against her table, biting her lip in concentration. She huffed out a sigh, typing out a half-assed excuse, part of her already thinking of what she’d wear to your place. 

if this fucks up my chances as delta nu president next year i’m holding you personally responsible get rid of her

You got up from your bed, grabbing your wallet and pulling out a twenty dollar bill. You walked to Natasha’s bedroom, knocking on the door before you heard her voice telling you to come in.

“Do you wanna do me a favor?” You asked, scratching the back of your neck as you sat on her bed. She scrolled further down the online store’s website, clicking on a bodycon dress. She hummed, encouraging you to keep talking. “Can you go to the store and grab ice cream?”

“Why do I have to go?”

“Well, you’ve got all this pent up energy you can’t release right? Jog to the store.”

She hummed and stopped scrolling, turning her chair to your direction. You offered her the twenty dollar bill and she snatched it away from your hands. “Fine.”

“Thanks,” You smiled, getting up from her bed and making your way back to your room. Natasha found it odd but didn’t think about it too much. She put on her running shoes and slung a fanny pack over her shoulder before heading out the door, leaving your twenty dollar bill on the counter. 

You heard the front door click shut and quickly texted Wanda.

she’s jogging to the store, you have like twenty minutes to get here

Wanda stood up out of her desk, sliding off her sweatpants and stepping into tight yoga pants. She packed her laptop and notebooks into her bag and walked out the door, grabbing a baseball cap before she left the house. She walked to your apartment and was there ten minute later, trying to ignore the smug smirk on your face as you ushered her into your bedroom.

You closed the door and pushed Wanda against the wooden surface, bringing her lips onto yours. She closed her eyes, getting lost in the feeling of your lips against hers while her bag slid down her arm to rest gently on the floor. She caught herself when your hands started drifting up her sweater, making her push you back onto your bed. You fell backwards, propping yourself up on your elbows as she straddled your lap. 

“You don’t get to call the shots today,” She gripped your hair and brought your lips back onto hers, her tongue moving against yours in a heated kiss. Your hands came to rest on her ass, making her buck hips into you and fuck, this was a bad idea. 

“Doesn’t seem like you want me to stop,” You smirked up at her, making her grip your chin and push you into the bed, rolling her eyes as she got off your lap. 

“I do,” She groaned, standing up again and moving to her back on the floor bringing it to the bed. “I even brought work to do.”

“You never stop, do you?” You asked, as she sat against the headboard, looking at you while she type on her computer and you pulled out your video game controller. 

“If I did, I wouldn’t become president of Delta Nu next year,” She said, the sound her her nails clicking on the keys echoing in your ears.

“Easy there, champ, don’t your sisters have to elect you?” You joked as you clicked away on your controller, eyes glued to the screen on the wall.

“Yeah, but I’m not worried about that,” She said, her eyes drifting to the way your bottom lip was caught between your teeth and your fingers flexed so easily around the controller. It all sent a wave of arousal straight to her core.

Wanda pushed her laptop off her lap, the crawled over to you, pushing your controller aside and straddling your hips once again. 

“Ready to break the rules, Madam President?”

“The rule is I can’t have sex,” She said, bringing her lips onto yours. “Nobody said anything about touching.”

She gripped your wrists and led them under her shirt, making you smirk against her mouth. Her soft moans filled your ears and vibrated through your body, your fingertips pressing harder against the soft skin of her chest. Your lips trailed down her neck, her hands gripping onto your hair as she arched into you. You flipped her over onto the bed, kneeling between her thighs and continuing to kiss down her body.

Wanda moaned as she felt the shape of your strap press against her. Her fingernails dug into your scalp as you sucked on her skin, not hard enough to leave a mark but just enough to leave Wanda wanting more. 

Wanda felt her desperation heighten, feeling like maybe, just maybe she would break the bet. Just as she was about to start tugging your shirt up your body, your head picked up, hearing Natasha open the door to the apartment. You looked at Wanda, a smirk tugging on your lips as you kissed up to her ear, softly shushing her.

“We have to be quiet now, angel,” You said, bringing her lips back onto yours. She continued kissing you, her eyes bursting open when the idea popped into her head. If she wanted anything with you tonight, she was gonna have to share you with Natasha. 

But Wanda couldn’t just bring this up, and she wouldn’t be able to wait another day, celibacy week was almost over. She had to act now. And it had to be Natasha’s idea. Wanda started whining against your lips, at first softly, but getting increasingly louder.

Natasha walked through the door, stopping at the fridge to grab a water bottle as she caught her breath. She removed her earphones and moved closer to you door, hearing shuffling and muffled whining from the other side of the door. 

“I’m back from the store,” She called through the door, making you pull away from Wanda and place your hand over the brunette’s mouth.

“Uhmm, you can put the ice cream in the freezer, I’ll get it late-OUCH!” You hissed at the sharp pain on your fingers, turning your gaze back to Wanda who had a grin on her face and she gripped your forearm over her shirt.

“Is everything okay?” Natasha said, walking into your room. She froze at the sight in front if her: Wanda pinned underneath you, one of your hands under her shirt while the other hovered above her mouth. The redhead’s eyebrows raised and a smug grin graced her features. “What do we have here.”

You pulled yourself off Wanda and walked over to Natasha gripping her hips and turning her around, pushing her towards the door. “We didn’t do anything, she didn’t lose the bet.”

Natasha stopped in her movements, all the pent up frustration she jogged off immediately returning. If anyone was gonna tiptoe around the grey area of the bet with you, it was gonna be her. There was no way in hell she would let Wanda have you all to herself. She turned around to face you before her gaze drifted to Wanda, who was still laying on the bed, her gaze completely locked onto Natasha. 

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” She simply said. Natasha’s lips turned upwards, her hands immediately pushing you back into your room. 

“Now we just gotta make sure you keep your mouth shut,” Natasha’s eyes locked onto yours, the back of your legs finally reaching the bed, making you fall back on it. Wanda kneeled next to you, standing over you next to Natasha as you propped yourself up on your elbows. 

“You guys make it seem like you both weren’t practically begging me to fuck you earlier today,” You rolled your eyes, watching the two girls look over you like you were the last meal on Earth. Wanda rolled her eyes, leaning over and gripping your chin.

“Let’s put that mouth to better use,” Wanda shuffled off the bed, sliding her pants down her legs along with her underwear, Natasha quickly following her movements. Wanda was about to climb back onto the bed, but Natasha held her back, making the brunette look at her with a frown.

“I live here, I get to call dibs on her face,” The redhead said, moving her body up to your face. Wanda rolled her eyes, grabbing the hem of your sweatpants and pulling them down your body, revealing her favorite red strap. 

“You tell another living soul about this and you’re moving out,” Natasha lowered her pussy onto your mouth before you had a chance to answer, her hips rolling onto your face as you stuck your tongue out. Natasha’s fingers gripped onto your hair, angling your head back as she bucked her hips onto you. Wanda groaned as she sunk down onto the toy between your legs, you could feel her weight shift on your hips as she bounced on your strap, your hands gripping the back of her knees and pulling her closer.

Wanda moaned, her nails digging into the skin of your stomach as she steadied herself. The stinging sensation made you moan into Natasha, the vibrations moving through her body and making her thighs squeeze around your head. They started off with a terrible pace, the two bucking their hips at the worst moments together. Your hands gripped Natasha’s hips as you pushed your strap deeper into Wanda, briefly halting her movements. Wanda screamed out in pleasure, the tip of the strap pressing against the perfect spot while you rolled Natasha’s hips onto your face, keeping your eyes on her as she contorted her face in pleasure.

Wanda and Natasha settled into the perfect pace, working off each other and making you groan in pleasure every now and then. Natasha pressed down onto your face, her arousal already dripping down your chin. Wanda whined, desperately bucking her hips, trying to reach her high, but not quite getting there. 

“Do you need a little help, sweetheart?” Natasha cooed condescendingly at the brunette, making Wanda more frustrated than she already was. You lifted you chin up, sucking Nat’s clit into your mouth, making her body shudder. Natasha lifted herself off you, before turning around and straddling your face once again. You circled your thumbs onto Wanda’s legs, as she continued moving against you. Natasha gripped her chin and brought their lips together, her hands moving town to Wanda’s chest, tweaking her nipples as you pumped the toy deeper into Wanda.

One of Natasha’s hands moved up to Wanda’s throat, lightly squeezing the sides as she pulled away from the brunette. She moaned, bucking her hips faster against your face as you reached up to her hips and pressed her hips down onto you as you sucked on her clit. “Cum with me, Wanda.”

You felt Wanda’s arousal soak the strap just as Natasha’s hips stilled and her body shook over you, her orgasm washing over her like waves. Wanda brought their lips together once again, both girls using your body to ride out their orgasms, hair clinging to their skin as the caught their breath. 

You licked Natasha clean before she pulled away from your face, letting you sit up and lift Wanda off you. Natasha moved off the bed to look for her underwear, ready to leave like she usually did after the two of you had your time. You leaned Wanda against the headboard, bringing your lips to hers then kissing down her body, the brunette’s hands entangling in your hair as your buried your head between her thighs, carefully running your tongue through her sensitive folds. 

Natasha watched as you cared for Wanda the same way you would care for her, feeling a pang of jealousy course through her at Wanda’s soft laughter as you came up and kissed her cheek. Wanda moved to the side, allowing you to settle agains the headboard before she settled next to you, curling to your side. 

“Uhm,” Natasha felt embarrassed watching, a prominent shade of pink gracing her cheeks as she avoided your gaze. “I’ll uh-”

“You can stay if you want,” Wanda said, pulling the blanket on the other side of you down, as you focused you attention on the tv. 

“She’s right,” You said, secretly hoping neither woman noticed how much you desperately hoped she would. 

“Okay,” Natasha leaned against the headboard, arms crossed over her chest as she focused her attention at the tv. You nudged her shoulder, the motioned for her to inch closer, making her roll her eyes but moved closer nonetheless. 

The three of your comfortably watched cartoons and talked for another few hours, not able to keep your hands to each other for most of the time. It was around 2 am when you finally closed your eyes, Natasha laying unconscious curled to your side. Wanda drew patters on your skin with her fingertips, the reflection of the tv glimmer bouncing off your phone catching her attention. She waited another few episodes to make sure you were both asleep before reaching over and snapping a picture before sending it to herself and deleting it off your phone. 

She fell asleep with a smug smirk on her features, thinking she had the upper hand. What she didn’t know was that the following morning Natasha would do the same thing, snapping a picture of Wanda laying naked with you before tiptoeing her way out of your room to get ready for class.

And yeah, they both were still at each other’s throats, but maybe this bet wasn’t so bad after all.

[milla-frenchy]

His favorite game

2k1 | Javier Peña x fem reader | ao3 | Masterlist

Summary: you meet a corrupt security guard. (Un)fortunately, he's hot Warnings: 18+ mdni. Javi's pov, age gap (reader is 22, Javi in his 40s), darkish, dubcon, coercion, power imbalance, degradation, oral (m), piv, creampie

a/n: this is written for @toomanystoriessolittletime 's follower celebration. I got this prompt/plot (darkish Javi P) Congrats on your milestone 🥳🥳

Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta-ing 💕 dividers @saradika-graphics

“I can suck your cock, if you want.”

Javi scoffed, until he realized she was dead serious. His dark eyes were on her, as he was leaning against his desk and she was sitting in front of him in a chair. He could see the worry in the shoplifter’s eyes. Concern that he'd call the cops. 

So she told him the first thing that came to her mind. She thought he was handsome, anyway, with his brown hair, his slim waist, and his broad shoulders. His uniform, which would look ridiculous on anyone else, suited him well. She was sure he’d be devastating, in a bar, wearing some jeans and a t-shirt. She was also pretty sure she’d try to seduce him, that man in his forties, the perfect dilf. And hopefully ending up with him in his car or in his apartment. 

“You wanna suck my cock?” he mocked. “And asking me to forget about the police, right? That's what you're telling me?”

“Yeah.”

He checked her ID, to be sure she wasn't under age.

Then he pointed at his crotch with his chin and lit a cigarette as she got on her knees and pulled his cock out. She sucked his tip, his cock, his balls, and he shot his cum deep into her throat, even before he finished his cig.

That's how it started. A week after his first day at the job. 

After he had returned from Columbia, it helped him to forget his past life. 

To forget that he didn’t get along with his father anymore, after he had told him that he wouldn’t take over the ranch. 

To forget that he had lost himself in every woman he fucked, creating an endless circle. 

To forget that he had never drunk and smoked so much in his life. 

To forget that in the past some people considered him a hero. It was as if he wanted to prove them all that they were wrong. 

To forget that he had given too much to the agency for his life to end up like that.

So since that first time, he took the habit of spotting women he could easily convince. The easy targets. Either too shy, or on the contrary those who weren’t shy at all. He really liked shutting up brats with his fat cock.

He loved the hunt, he loved spotting those who wouldn't say ’no’ to him. Either because they wouldn’t dare, or because they would easily take the challenge, the thrill, the chance of blowing him off in his office.

Javi sees a group of women passing in front of his security office. Twenty-somethings. He can notice these types of groups from miles away now. Young women who think they deserve everything because they’re pretty. Or rich. 

He watches them laugh as they walk past him. Look at him. They must think it sucks, being a security guard at a mall.

He leaves his office and follows them inside, at a decent distance. He watches them laugh, loudly exchange comments, barely hiding the way they are making fun of people who don't fit their standards. It only makes him smirk. He's seen so many of these brats pass by. 

His steps are soft, light. No one would think he was following anyone. 

He's dressed in his black uniform with the word "security" on his shoulder and his back. He pauses at the same time as them. Swirls his toothpick between his teeth, watching them.

The group finally splits up. Three of the young women head to a clothing store. The fourth, you, waves goodbye to them and goes to a record store.

He’s watching you, as you look at the vinyl record covers, then the posters on the wall. And finally, some walkmans. You don't know it yet, but you’re his target. Separated from your friends.

You leave the store, your big purse slung over your shoulder, open. 

He thinks that he really wants to wipe the smile off your face. So he steals a Walkman from the store, grateful that the mall management still hasn’t installed the anti-theft devices there. 

This isn't the first time he places an object in a woman's bag, just to get her in his office. To see how she reacts. See if she offers to suck him off, too.

He slips the Walkman into your bag, then lets you head for the exit, letting the detectors beep loudly when you’re about to leave. He quickly runs towards you, as you’re looking confused. He asks you to open your bag and you do it, sure of yourself, but then you see the Walkman.

“Come with me, miss. You'll explain yourself in my office.”

You object the whole time walking there, saying you didn't do anything. 

He’s already hard. 

He closes the office door behind you and leans against his desk. Finding yourself alone with him in this office makes you a little uncomfortable, and you shift on your feet. He takes his time, letting your anxiety build, his gaze fixed on you. Cold. Frowning. Like an adult who’s about to lecture a child.

“So, miss. I have to call the police, you know.”

“I didn’t do anything!” you reply. 

“Well, is that your purse, miss?”

“Yes, it’s my purse. But I didn’t steal this. I can buy one if I want, I can afford it.”

“Have you never heard of kleptomania?”

“No, what is it?”

“What, you don’t have enough money to pay for college?”

You roll your eyes, deeply offended.

“Anyway, like I said, I have to call the police,” he says, reaching for his phone.

“Wait!” He pauses and turns back to you, raising an eyebrow. “Mmm?”

“Can’t we… can we work it out?”

“Work it out? How do you want to work it out?”

“You take the Walkman and bring it back to the store. We forget all of this,” you say, sweeping the air with your hand, as if it was just a nuisance, something insignificant.

“So you can steal again in a few days? I don’t think so.”

“I told you…,” you start to say. Then stop. “Can I offer you some money then?”

“I don’t need your money, miss. And I’m not sure you understand how serious this is.”

You bite your lip, and he sees your gaze fall to his crotch and he tries not to smirk. It's almost too easy. 

“Wait! I can… do something for you, if you want.”

“Like what?” he says, keeping his tone neutral. He sees you hesitate. Sees the way you swallow. He leans toward the phone again, forcing you to break.

“Wait! I could do something.”

He raises his hands, as if he doesn’t understand what you're talking about at all.

"I could...." you start to say, motioning at his crotch with your chin.

“What? I got a stain or something?” he asks, looking at the spot you pointed to.

“Suck your cock,” you whisper.

“Excuse me, what?” He sees you roll your eyes and adds, “I didn’t hear you, miss.”

“I could… suck your cock.” Your eyes set downward as heat reaches your cheeks.

He doesn’t answer, he makes you wait for his reaction.

“If you want,” you add.

“You’re telling me you’ll blow me, and in exchange I won’t call the police?” he asks, as he has done dozens of times before.

“Yeah,” you breathe out.  

“How old are you?”

“Twenty two.”

“It’s the first time I come across not only a thief, but also a slut, that wants to suck my dick to get away with shoplifting,” he lies to you.

“And this is the first time I’ve come across a security guard so corrupt that he’s willing to accept it.”

“Watch that mouth.”

“Or what?”

“Or I will fuck it.”

The way you squeeze your thighs together doesn't go unnoticed.

“Say it.”

“Say what?”

“That you wanna suck my cock to leave this office free.”

“I… wanna suck your cock, so you won’t call the police.”

“Good girl,” he praises in a tone you haven’t heard from him before. Directive. Dark.

“Now come here. Get on your knees and beg for it.”

You turn to the door, worried that someone might come in.

“Don’t worry. Nobody will interrupt us.”

You walk over to him, as he’s leaning against his desk, and kneel down.

“I said, beg for it.”

“Pl…please?”

“Oh you can do better than that. Your father ever taught you good manners?”

No one has ever spoken to you like that, and the tingling between your legs makes you stop breathing for a few seconds.

“Please, can I suck your cock, sir?”

“Much better. Maybe you’re a quick learner.”

“Fuck,” you whimper. 

“You like that, huh?” 

You don’t answer, eyes fixed on the ground. He grabs your chin between his thumb and index finger and makes you look up at him. 

“No need to be shy or deny it. You’ve squeezed your thighs together twice in the last 2 minutes. Take out my cock, miss,” he orders.

You comply and unzip his pants, before sliding them down his thighs. He’s hard. You pull it out of his boxers and stare at it. Holding your breath again.

“Think you can handle it?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Well, you’ll have to. Come on.”

You wrap your hand around the base of his shaft and lick up the precum that oozes out. Giving it a few licks.

“Don’t tease. I saw you, with your friends. Thinking you're better than everyone else. I hope you can do better than that with your mouth, now.”

His degradation turns you on. You take him in your mouth, struggling to wrap your lips around his tip. You feel your panties soaking wet. You apply yourself, sucking the head, licking his shaft and his balls, which are resting heavily against his thighs.

“Keep looking at me when I’m letting you suck my cock.”

God, you think. You're so turned on that you’d let him fuck you right now. You lick his shaft, tongue flat, eyes fixed on him. Tears well up in your eyes when he forces his way down your throat.

“You wet?” he asks, his cock in the back of your throat, his hands holding your head against him. You try keeping yourself back from gagging, and nod.

“Get up,” he says, releasing you. “Take off your clothes. Show me.”

You undress mechanically, then he grabs your hips and presses you against his desk, forcing you to spread your thighs, as he slides his body between them. He presses his hand against your pussy and hisses.

“You're dripping, baby. You need it bad, huh?”

You nod. 

“Say it.”

“I need it, fuck! That's what you wanna hear?”

He smirks then grabs his cock in his hand and thrusts into you in one go, and you can't help but scream.

“Quiet,” he says, jaw clenched, covering your mouth with his hand, and starts fucking you hard.

“Watch it. Watch how I'm splitting you in two,” he says, finally removing his hand.

“Fuck, fuck,” you mumble as you look down and watch his cock plunge into you, soaked by your wetness.

“Pussy’s squeezing me so hard, fuck. Turn around,” he says, as he grabs your arm and bends you over the desk. He thrusts in again and grips your hips, slamming into you.

“Worth it?”

“Wh… what?” You can barely breathe, let alone speak.

“Whoring yourself for a Walkman?”

“Shit… I didn’t fuckin’ steal it.”

“I know,” he growls.

“What?!” you exclaim, trying to stand up, but he grabs your shoulder and presses you roughly against the desk, the weight of his body on your back, as he keeps pounding into you fast and hard.

“I wanted to wipe that smirk off your face. Make you beg for my cock. I know a slut when I see one,” he says in the hollow of your ear. He slides his hand down to your pussy and brushes your clit with his finger. Slows down the pace. Fucks you gently, trying to get what he wants.

“Now you’re gonna come on this cock. You’re gonna give it to me, like a good whore, baby. ‘cause that’s what you’re good at.”

“You’re… a fucking freak,” you pant. But you don’t fight, don’t resist. A part of you thinks it’s hot, the way he got you. And you want to come, need to come, he’s fucking you too well. You let your orgasm rush over your body, your pussy clenching on his shaft. He freezes deep inside you and comes, covering your walls in white ropes.

He stays pressed against your back, his hands tight around your wrists.

“I knew I picked a good one, today,” he smiles against your ear.

Javi p masterlist

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[talekinesis]

Random Gravity Falls Headcanons

Stan

This guy smokes to help deal with the stress of everything. He picked up the habit after he was kicked out by his father and hasn't quit since. He used to be a chainsmoker but after getting to look after the kids for the summer, he drastically cut back and is actually thinking of quitting altogether because he wants to be around long enough to watch Mabel and Dipper grow up

Actually a pretty decent cook, it's just baking he sucks at. With cooking you can sort of eyeball the ingredients and add more or less depending on your own personal taste, but with how strict baking is with its ingredients, he never really picked it up. He's only baked a cake twice in his life, once for his mom when he was a kid, with the help of Ford, and once for the kids' birthday (it was lopsided and runny and they decided to just go out for pancakes instead)

He can play the guitar really well. He had to teach himself how to play when he was young and homeless, playing for tips. He still has his original guitar and occasionally, on a good day, will get it out and play it. He played it once for Mabel, who, for once in her life, actually sat still and listened

Part of his daily routine is kicking gnomes out of the trash because they keep trying to eat leftovers. He just bats them off with a broom like they're raccoons

He grew up a huge mama's boy since she was the only supportive parent he had. After he got kicked out of the house, he called her from a pay phone a couple times to ask to come back home and to wish her a happy birthday. To this day he still makes it a point to get a cupcake on her birthday since he can't celebrate it with her, and sometimes he'll tell the kids stories about her, like how she would have loved Mabel since Mabel has all these different unique sweaters, and his ma used to collect different, big, unique earrings

Stan coaches Mabel in boxing, and actually helped her discover a passion for it, he attends all of her matches. He even taught her a couple illegal moves that she can't use in the ring but can use in real self defense

Even in his early 60s, he still thinks it's funny to bother Ford as if they were still kids. He'll randomly snatch his glasses off his face (forgetting that he also wears glasses and Ford can retaliate), he'll just start copying Ford and repeat what he says, he once even dressed up as Ford, but it didn't last very long because Ford wears a much smaller size of pants, and Stan has a bit of a gut on him. He changed after about five or ten minutes.

He's a die-hard fan of Chappell Roan

He's actually the more responsible of the Stan-Twins. He breaks laws sure, but he always makes sure everyone is fed and safe. He's like this close 🤏 to putting Ford and Mabel on leashes when they go out because they have a tendency to run off

"I'd like to make an announcement to the store, I lost someone." "Oh, did your kid run off?" "My 60 year old brother, yeah. No he doesn't have a cellphone."

Has a biological kid out there somewhere but the mom cut him off. I just think the scene where he said, "Scary movies are great, the girl cuddles up next to ya... next thing you know you gotta raise a kid.. And your life falls apart.." sounded too much like he was speaking from experience and not as a hypothetical. He wants so badly to be a dad though and regrets not keeping contact. (let me know if I should make an oc for this :] )

Ford

He can't eat doritos or any triangle shaped chip because one time Bill hid inside a chip bag just to startle him

It took him a while to adjust to this dimension's laws of physics. He was frustrated for a while that he couldn't just leave his coffee floating in the air. He broke three mugs and one of them was Stan's.

Despises pickles as if he held a personal grudge against them. He hates them an irrational amount, and even gets irritated with Stan for just having them in the house. He acts like a child about it too, arms crossed and everything. "Here, Poindexter, you want me to take the pickles off your sandwich? Like a child?" "Don't bother, the meal's ruined >:( "

He gets sucked into those soap operas that Stan watches, and will sometimes watch from the doorway or over his shoulder. He won't admit it, but Stan knows.

He lights his face on fire because he saw someone else do it in a different dimension where that was normal

Unlike Stan, he's actually amazing at baking (he likes to follow precise measurements and instructions) But sucks at cooking. Caught a pot of water on fire.

When he first discovered the shape shifter, he kept it as a pet because he found it cute, but ended up letting it go when he found out it had a human-like sentience and could speak. But for a while he raised it the same way Mabel raises Waddles, putting it in little shirts, hats, and just absolutely adoring it

Used to play 'Dungeons, Dungeons, and more Dungeons' with a group in college as the DM, and it was the first time he actually had a friend group. The other players loved the way he set things up

Doesn't like alchohol. At least from this dimension, he got used to alternate dimension alchohols that tasted way better, so when he came back to Earth everything tasted way too strong and almost like dirt to him so he just quit

Used to know a little banjo since Fiddleford taught him but forgot it while in other dimensions

Used to babysit Tate on occasion and sucked at it

He also used to babysit Shermie and *also* sucked at it. He'd have to pass him off to Stan if he got fussy or started crying since only Stan and their mom could calm him down

• Used to play David Bowie in his lab and would occasionally lip sync or dance to it. Even when traveling dimensions, he'd introduce David Bowie music to the people, creatures, and beings he met, until he lost the cassette tape and was devastated

Mabel

Allergic to chocolate and makes up for it by eating way too much of other candies. She still tries to eat it though because "Maybe I'm not allergic anymore," but Dipper has to stop her. Stan even makes it a point not to keep chocolate in the Shack when they visit because he knows Mabel is a heathen with little self preservation. It's not epi-pen bad, but it will burn and itch her throat and get her coughing (Ford will use chocolate substitutes when baking for her and Dipper)

She likes to tell people that she and Dipper were originally two of three, and that she ate their triplet in the womb to become stronger. This is not true.

She wants to be a big sister really bad and sometimes that comes out onto Dipper despite him only being 5 minutes younger, much to his dismay and protest

She found a passion for boxing after Stan taught her how, and even asked her parents to let her start doing it as a sport, which she got really into. Coincidentally, after she picked up boxing, Gideon suddenly left her alone completely. Future Headcanon: She grows up to box professionally and one day even faces Grenda in the ring, but there's obviously a mutual respect between them. They agreed ahead of time that if they ever had to face each other, neither of them would hold back and it would be a fair match. Even after there's a winner, they meet up afterward and go out for dinner with Candy, who posts their matches to social media. Waddles is her mascot.

Mabel makes even more friends when she returns home from Gravity Falls because she takes Waddles for walks on a leash and it's a pretty good conversation starter

She is convinced that if she eats all the ingredients for a cake, she'll have successfully made a cake in her stomach. Once again, Dipper has to physically stop her from doing this. Ford does too, the first time he heard her say this (through a mouthful of flour) he went, "That certainly is an interesting theory, Mabel, but no-"

Dipper

Let's get it out of the way, I really like the 'Trans Dipper' headcanon. It just fits really well and I, as a trans person, can relate to him a lot

I think he knows how to dance a little because his mom taught him and used to take him to 'Mother-Son' events

He secretly keeps a tally of how many times Mabel rolls herself out of bed because it always wakes him up but he also kind of thinks it's funny because she just sleeps through it. Even if they don't share rooms back at home, he can always here the distance "thunk" of his sister hitting the floor. The tally isn't a sheet of paper, it's a small notebook with multiple pages filled in

He sometimes gets the courage to try and roughhouse with Stan, who is always on board but purposely takes it easy on the kid because he's like "baby bird" fragile

Dipper was the one to break the news to his Grandpa Shermie that Stanley was still alive and Stanford was actually missing for 30 years with Stan taking his place, almost giving the poor man a heart attack. (Shermie ended up booking a flight to Gravity Falls to yell at his brothers in person because that's not a conversation you can have over the phone)

Dipper was the one to introduce Stan to Chappell Roan by accident, but now they listen to her if they're in the car together

his DD&MD character is a female orc fighter named Yotula and he got very excited to info-dump about her to Ford (who was equally as excited to listen)

Has an odd addiction to chocolate milk. He makes a glass of chocolate milk at least once a day. Twice if it's been a rough day. He actually gets a little upset if he misses his daily cup of chocolate milk, its just routine. Stan one time made an offhand joke that since Mabel's allergic, Dipper has to consume twice as much for the both of them, but Mabel took that seriously and now to her its just the truth.

[grandeoatmilklatte]

Kinktober Day 1 🎃

Ominis Gaunt x Jealous Sex (770 words)

A/N: I've always wanted to write a darker Ominis than how I usually write him, so hopefully this is a good starting point.

Warnings: NSFW || MDNI || +18 plus characters || p in v || fingering || spanking || dirty talk ||

Ominis would never admit it to anyone who pointed it out, but he was absolutely the jealous type. He had no choice but to be; having been denied so many things in his life because of his condition and his name. How could anyone blame him for being a tad bit possessive over what belonged to him, and thus, a tad bit jealous when someone or something threatened to take that which belonged to him.

Ominis didn’t need his eyesight to know that boy was standing too close to you. He could smell the desperation on him when he approached you. He could also hear it in his voice when he complimented your work in class and asked if you could tutor him. The nerve of him, and the nerve of you for saying yes!

“Relax, darling. It’s just one tutoring session.” You said with a giggle the moment the boy walked away.

One was far too many, but Ominis would teach you both a lesson in messing with a Gaunt.

The boy’s lesson came in the form of a snake waiting for him in his bed. You learned about it at your tutoring session. The boy was terrified, but laughed it off as a cruel prank from a dorm mate, but you knew better, sighing at the realization of what was in store for you later.

You made your way to The Undercroft, deciding it’d be better to just go than to wait for him to come get you. You were met with exactly what you expected - an unhappy Ominis pushing you onto the mattress as soon as you approached him. You were lying on your stomach as he straddled you. His hand pinned yours above your head as he leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“How many times must we go over this? You’re mine. Only mine.”

You tried to mumble a response, which was met with a hard slap on your ass and a tug of your hair, bringing your head slightly off the mattress.

“Save it darling. I’ve heard enough of your excuses. Since you seem to have forgotten who you belong to, I think you deserve a reminder.”

Ominis’ reminder came in the form of you naked in the same spot on the bed, on all fours this time, crying out Ominis’ name as three of his fingers rapidly pumped in and out of your wet cunt.

“Is there something you wish to say, darling?” He growled through gritted teeth as his unoccupied hand gave you another hard slap on your ass.

“I…I’m yours. All yours!” You were breathless, still coming down from the high of the orgasm he had just given you this way.

He pulled his fingers out of you, replacing them with his cock in one quick motion. His pace was rough and unforgiving as one hand dug into your hip, his nails sure to leave indentations on your skin, while the other worked its way into your hair, grabbing a fistfull of it and pulling it back.

“Say it again! Louder!”

You repeated yourself over and over. “I’m yours. I’m yours. I’m yours.” The words fell from your lips like a prayer, tears beginning to form in your eyes from the pleasure. Ominis was being anything but gentle with you, but every snap of his hips felt like heaven, and every snap sent you hurtling closer to another orgasm.

“That’s right you filthy whore! You. Are. Mine!” A string of loud hisses followed Ominis’ words, and you knew this to be Parseltongue, something he only ever used when he was both extremely angry with you and extremely close to orgasm. But you got there first, orgasming again with another cry of Ominis’s name, your walls violently contracting around him.

Ominis followed you shortly after, demanding that you take every last drop of him as he emptied himself into you. —

“You did that on purpose didn’t you?” Ominis inquired as you both got dressed. You moved much slower than he did, the pain of Ominis’ roughness just starting to hit your body.

“Of course I did. You’re so hot when you’re jealous!”

“I AM NOT JEALOUS. I just take my relationships very seriously. That boy had ulterior motives. I just know it.”

You giggled and planted a soft kiss on his lips. You knew it wasn’t exactly the most ethical of behaviors, but there was something so sexy about Ominis reminding you who you belonged to, and you knew he secretly enjoyed reminding you as well. Ominis was absolutely the jealous type, and you wouldn’t have him any other way.

[sanakimohara]

[ YOU ] PT. 2 B. C.

pairing: chan x fem! reader

summary: Stalker AU

playlist:

warnings: MDNI + NSFW + ANGST + SMUT + KIDNAPPING + STALKING + STOCKHOLM SYNDROME + CNC + MENTIONS OF MURDER + TRAUMA + CHOKING + SLIGHT EXHIBITIONISM

type: full fic / angst / smut / horror

a/n: thinking of putting this one on AO3…also did you guys watch their AMAs performance last night?

“Here, baby. It’s your favorite, just like you wanted.”

Chan’s smile stretched wider as he set the items on the table, his eyes full of obsessive warmth as he watched your every move….

Every expression you made.

Every ghost of a shiver that ran up your spine.

Three weeks into being safe and sound with him, you still hadn’t learned to trust him completely:

To completely twist yourself free from the gut-wrenching fear of him.

What would a man like Christopher Chan Bahng do if you made one wrong move, said one nasty word, or refused one of his heartfelt offerings?

You hadn't the courage to get an answer to the question.

Not yet, anyway.

Sitting there in a kitchen you’d only just learned existed down the hall from the room he’d kept you for the first week and a half felt oddly freeing.

It was one of the few places Chan let you roam around in his part-time abode -and only if he was present when you did so.

“There are rules,” he’d told you the first night, having coaxed you to listen to what he had to say if he agreed to unbind you from the bed and against your better judgment and the prying instinct to make a run for the unlocked door behind him…

You sat idly as he eased into a one-sided conversation.

“You have rules…here…with me,” Chan clarified, smiling small, but his voice still holding twinges of directness. “There’s not a lot, and I know you’ll be able to remember them. Responsible as you are…”

He trailed off, eyes softening on you as admiration clouded them.

That singular stare numbed your nerves in the moment. A blatant indication to you of how long and thoroughly he’d been watching you.

He'd been cataloging your life and all its highs and lows.

Chan knew you were responsible because he’d seen it from afar, observing how dedicated you were to keeping the shop in order when your boss wouldn’t. How you made it a point to check your surroundings every time you ventured from your apartment alone.

Now you realize you hadn't been as vigilant or responsible as you thought.

Chan intended to fix that.

Your heartbeat dropped its pace, slowing to a lowered thrum in your ears as you watched him watch you.

Expectations and boundaries spilled from his lips like all those fleeting compliments he’d given you in the record store.

“You have a beautiful smile. Adorable even…”

“Never leave this room without my permission. Everything you’ll ever need is already here, and if you don’t have it, I’ll get it for you. Just ask…”

“I like your taste in music. It’s refreshing to get someone else’s opinions…”

“Look at me when I’m speaking to you. Always. So I know you’re listening and understand what I’m telling you.”

“Sorry, this may be a little forward of me, but would you like to hang out sometime?”

“You will take care of yourself. Shower, get ready, get dressed, and eat every meal I give you. No exceptions. No excuses, princess..”

“It was nice to meet you, pretty girl. I’ll give you a call later! Oh, and thanks for the help..”

“I’m doing this for your good, Y/n. All you have to do is listen…don’t think… listen to me.”

Rules.

Sweet nothings.

They mixed when Chan spoke, blending as you swallowed the urge to sob aloud while he eyed you from the edge of the bed. “Tell me you understand what I’ve said, sweetheart.” The blonde tilted his head, voice warm but expression void of lenient compassion for the pain etched across yours.

Your tongue felt drier at the moment, your head spinning, and your blood cold as you refused to speak to him.

Chan’s eyes narrowed an inch; his slight change in expression made you withdraw.

“I said tell me you understand.”

Your lips parted before you could pull your subconsciousness from the grips of instinctual survival. “Y-yes I under…under..stand…” you croaked quietly, curling in on yourself when he let his lips settle into a minuscule smirk.

“Good girl… learning so fast already…”

A knot of pure hatred mixed with an unfamiliar emotion twisted in your chest upon hearing him casually utter such a demeaning phrase.

It still rang in your head every time he was near you. That same unnamed gut feeling rooted itself in your core with each day you remained entangled in his version of contentment.

Trapping you in his sick and twisted version of a happy home.

A happy life with him and only him.

Chan sat next to you at the kitchen island, twisting his barstool to face yours. He pushed the familiar brown bag and plastic cup to you, inching closer.

“…. Just for you, like I promised.”

You didn’t move, frozen in place by practiced stubbornness and conflicted with your thoughts as you stared at the treat you’d been craving for what felt like half a lifetime…

But if you were doing your math right, counted the hours he was away, and constructed them into the time he spent with you, then that meant…

It’d been three Sundays since he’d taken you from that brick alleyway.

Three…long…tense…suffocating, and confusing …weeks.

The air under your nose wafted with the crisp tinge of warm pastry puff and strawberry filling. Your eyes settled on a dollop of whipped cream melting into the drink.

Your mouth watered, having been stripped of anything overly sweet for weeks, all thanks to Chan’s intentional and well-balanced meals for you.

What he ate, you ate.

The same went for almost anything else you’d experienced in his care.

What he laid out for you to wear, you wore.

What he watched, you watched.

What he said, you obeyed.

Weeks of falling into a nearly sunless state of compliance, unsure of how to feel about it, and even more affairs of becoming entirely comfortable with it sent your mind into a leveled frenzy.

You were beginning to feel odd…

Longing to hear Chan’s keys jingle from down the hall, and his footsteps echoing closer to the locked door of your room, rather than fearing the sounds.

You looked forward to seeing him after hours of being kept alone in a room with only a stack of books to read, a pad of paper and pen, and a strange amount of various stuffed animals to keep you company. Once or twice, you caught yourself beginning to smile when you saw him slip into your room after unlocking it. He greeted you every time, inviting you out of the room for two hours until dinner -which promptly occurred at 10 PM every night.

A twisted sense of security wrestled itself into your psyche. Your heart switched between racing in fear and slowing from unconscious infatuation. Your breaths came easier, and your body relaxed a tad more in his presence.

It was…

Alarming.

So much so that the moment Chan stopped mid-step on his way out of your room for the night before to ask you a question, your sensible train of thought nearly reignited.

Unfortunately, that trickle of sense fizzled back into a fog of conscious paralysis, hearing his voice envelop the room.

“Anything in particular you want tomorrow?”

You swallow hard, slipping underneath the heavy duvet before answering him quietly.

“What..? What do you mean?..”

That is a fair question.

Chan didn't blame you for asking it and was unsure whether to proceed with his offer.

But the pure, unguarded curiosity in your eyes and expression made him continue. “Is there anything special you’d like to have?..” he clarified.

You still said nothing.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair before showing a tender smile as if he’d become embarrassed of having to explain his sudden thoughtfulness.

“Think of it like a gift from me to you, princess. Something special since you’ve been so …”

He paused, eyes lowering from your face for a moment, momentarily distant as they settled on the cover pulled over your knees and to your chest.

The straps of the cream-colored chiffon night dress he’d picked out for you that night lowered from your shoulder as you shifted, waiting to hear the rest of his reasoning, and Chan reluctantly drew his gaze back up to your face.

“Good for me…” he clarified under a heavy breath, glad the door partially hid the hardening in his crotch from your wandering eyes.

“I can have..anything?” You pried for options, having narrowed the most apparent forms of escape or attempt at communication with the outside world out of the realm of possibilities.

Chan was an intelligent man.

A highly intuitive one at that.

A man who paid attention to the most minor details. Obvious or not.

Getting anything past him felt like running into a cement wall and hoping it’d eventually vanish and let you pass.

It wouldn’t.

He wouldn’t.

When you caught his slow nod of approval at your question, you decided that asking a small, harmless question would be a safe decision.

“I want something from the cafe….please…the one I used to. “

“Yeah, no. I remember which one it is, sweetheart….” Chan cut into your response, mind wandering to dangerous places, watching you sink further into the corners and set your doe eyes on him as you did.

It’s sickened him to some degree how hot his blood ran seeing you vulnerable and comfortable all at once in his presence.

There wasn’t a chance in the world he’d be able to keep his hands off you for another week if you kept affecting him this way. Chan purposefully attempted to avoid the feeling, but there was only so much he could do before everything you did affected him.

Called to him…

Begged for him…

God, he wanted to hear you beg for him…

Scream for him…

Chan sucked in a quick breath, head leaning on the doorframe as he shut his eyes and mumbled back to you, “I’ll bring you something from there in the morning. Night, princess..”

And then he was gone again.

You slept a little easier last night, hoping his gesture of intentional goodwill was a sign he was starting to regret his actions. Still, now that hope died in your chest, seeing the pure content on his face as he observed you tentatively reaching for the pastry and latte he'd brought back just for you.

Chan was never going to feel guilty.

Not when everything was perfect between you, especially for him.

The pastry melted on your tongue, warm and sweet but barely easing the weight in your chest, sensing Chan’s gaze on you. Every bite you took was less and less soothing, hardly washed down any more accessible with the few sips of cold caffeine you took between each one, but you refused to give him any more signs of your distress.

If you did, it always seemed to go straight to his head.

Chan fed off of it.

You’d learned that much about him in less than a week.

Despite his constant attempts at heartfelt kindness, your fear of him was his fix.

What a sick bastard…

You swallowed the last bite of the pastry as the thought crossed your mind, crumpling up the parchment it was wrapped in before dropping it into the bag but leaving the half-full cup alone.

“Thank you,” you forced a smile, hints of genuine gratitude coaxing the pleasant expression onto your face, but it was short-lived as Chan shook his head. “Finish all of it,” he instructed, nudging the cup closer to you without glancing at it. “Don’t waste what I give you…”

You stiffen in your seat, “I’m fine. I've had enough, really-“

Your lips immediately pressed shut when he stood, closing in on you until your head lulled back to keep him in your sight. Chan stared down at you, right hand raised to brush across your cheek, and the left picking the latte up from the counter. Every nerve you had spanned to life, chills rising on your skin as he invaded your space and fixed you in place with a void glare.

Chan exhaled slowly, reducing the anger he felt when you refused his demand and replacing it with a controlled ease. “I took time out of my day to get you something special, and I expect you to appreciate it. Open up…” his hand falls to cup your chin, grip tight and promising. You swallow hard, eyes dilating with anxiety as he applies more pressure, progressing until you utter a whine of pain and let your mouth fall slack. “Atta girl…” Chan praises under his breath, caging you in the seat and easing the drink to your parted lips.

Your stomach drops, feeling helpless as he forces you to gulp down the remaining half of the cold caffeinated drink. Your legs twitch and shift between his, nails clawing at the sheer stockings covering your thighs underneath the sweater you wore, and your breaths struggle to remain constant as the liquid pours down your throat and from the corner of your lips.

His hold on your jaw is painful but not as tortuous as the thoughts racing through your mind as you peer up at him through teary eyes.

It hurts, but it feels so…

Why won’t he stop…? Do I want him to…stop?…

You choked as the last drops of the latte drizzled onto your tongue, gasping for air quietly as he released your jaw and tapped your cheek gently. A phantom of pain blooms on your skin, disappearing seconds after the tender slap occurs but snapping you back to reality to hear him speak.

“I need you wide awake for me today. Can’t have you looking too tired when Bin comes over for a visit.”

You stare at him, half dizzy and confused, hearing him mention another’s name.

He hadn’t mentioned his friends, family, or acquaintances before…

Though your throat still burned and your eyes had yet to un-blur completely, you asked, “W-who’s Bin?”…”

Chan smiled, gently kissing your nose since you weren’t in any shape to reel away from him like you had before. Your face warmed from the gesture, your heart fluttering a bit as the distinct feeling of his lips brushing your skin was mildly delightful.

“He's a good friend of mine. Someone I work with often, too. I think you’ll like him a lot.”

Your lips twitched into a timid smile, a mix of relief and desire hanging over your head. “I…I can't wait to meet him. " You shifted around, swiping the back of your right hand across your damp lips to wipe away the coffee left on them and swiftly cover the vague happiness that begged to show itself.

Maybe this ‘Bin’ could be your way out of all of this - a saving grace from the hell you were beginning to settle into.

“Good. Now, get cleaned up. He’ll be here soon.” Chan lifts you from the chair, steadying your drowsy weight against him for a moment before you give him a solemn nod and carefully step past him. An array of ideas starts to cloud your head, gathering traction and precedence over any other thought you have, but they're shattered to pieces when Chan calls out to you from the kitchen.

“Y/n..”

You freeze, hand pressed to the corner of the hallway for support as you peer at him over your shoulder.” Yes?...” you breathe out, uneased by the pleasant smile he flashes you before leaning against the center island. " Don't try anything cute when he's here. Asking for his help won't change a thing.”

“I won’t…”

God fucking damn it-

The sound of another’s voice from down the hall catches your attention, melting into laughter and warm words toward your captor a moment later.

‘Bin’ must be here…

You sniffle at the realization, dabbing the damp white cloth over your mouth several times before rinsing and wringing it out into the bathroom sink. Droplets of caramel coffee swirled down the drain, disappearing like your will to escape began to. Chan’s warning to you was a simple threat—a nicely put one but still a promise of consequences to your preemptive attempts for escape.

A lump settled in your throat as you stared in the mirror above the sink, silently trying to convince your reflection that everything was fine.

That you’d find a way out of this soon.

You wanted to believe the determination written across your features would remain, but it consciously vanished when you quietly stepped out of the bathroom and down the dim hallway. You came to a stop at the hall's edge, peeking from behind it to glimpse at the man Chan seemed to be enjoying a conversation with.

He had black hair, and he was around Chan’s height, too, but a bit more muscled than him. And he sounded pleasant, but by now, you’d learned that assuming a stranger's length of kindness by their words was never a good idea.

With pursed lips and a soft gulp, you shifted to hide behind the corner again, unnerved by the prospect of meeting anyone who took to Chan’s company and afraid of having to endure meeting them yourself without the chance to beg for their help to get away from him.

“Shff..*

Your stockings brush along the floor, catching Chan’s attention and bringing his conversation with Changbin to a sudden halt. He glanced at the corner you hid behind, watching Changbin do the same before saying anything. “Baby, come here. Could you introduce yourself to my friend? Don’t be shy..”

You swallow a groan, peeking around the corner again as if he hadn’t caught your presence already, “H-Hi…” you greet the man sitting across from him in the living room.

Chan shakes his head, eyeing you intently. “Don’t be rude, princess. Come out here and meet him.” Changbin laughs, smiling warmly as he shifts in his seat to see your hidden form better. “I swear I don’t bite:” he joked.

Oh…

He seems harmless, but still...

Your heart jumps with a sense of joy you thought had been snuffed out weeks ago. Warmth floods your cheeks, and seeing him stretch out a hand for you to shake is an added sign of goodwill from him.

“Okay…” you mumble, slipping from the hallway to tentatively shake his hand before repeating your greeting upfront. “Hi.”

Changbin chuckled, his brows raising a bit. “I’m Changbin, and you are? " He seemed genuinely intrigued, glancing between you and Chan before the latter cleared his throat.

“Bin, this is Y/n, the girl I told you about…”

“Oh,” Changbin grinned, holding your hand longer than needed as he stared up at you. “She is cute. No wonder you talk about her so much. " He met your lowered eyes, offering a warm smile you barely returned before retracting his hand from yours. “Wait, how long did you say you’ve been together?”

Chan sighed, shrugging at the question despite knowing its exact answer.

Three weeks, sixteen hours, and forty-three minutes is how long you’d been trapped in his sick fantasy.

He’d been counting every second, and now you were, too.

“Six months next week, Bin.”

“And you've already moved in with him? Must be love at first sight…” Changbin looked between you both, ignoring your aversion to looking at Chan directly or oblivious to the tension between you two.

You didn't answer him, lips pressed shut, and your hands nervously twiddling behind your back. Chan answered for you, rising from his spot on the couch to pat Changbin’s stout shoulder as he came to stand by your side. “Must be. Right, sweetheart?” The skin of your lower back gathers goosebumps, feeling his hand firmly plant itself there, thumb tracing the trial of your spine as he eases you closer to him. Your tongue falls flat in your mouth, your body weak and tense all at once from the weight of his touch. Afraid to use your voice without letting out an unseemly sound, you give a gentle no, eyes fluttering between Changbin and Chan, who smile at your silent agreement.

“Are you always this quiet around strangers?” Changbin chuckles, and you embarrassingly shake your head, pressing against Chan’s side as he speaks for you. “Or maybe you're just really loud,” he retorts, inwardly brimming with pride, feeling your body shift towards his for comfort.

Finally.

You were learning to trust him.

To depend on him.

Changbin rolls his eyes, his mouth ticking into an unaffected smirk. “I'm the right amount loud. Otherwise, your tracks would only get so far.” Chan’s body goes rigid at the teasing jab, startling you when his grip on your lower back shifts to your hip to knead the soft skin. You whine quietly as his fingertips bare down on the muscle. The hold grounds him but unnerved you.

He was upset.

That much you could tell, but Chan didn't let anger cloud his features, shrugging off Changbin’s usual innocent jabs at him, “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Bin. “

Said man huffs, staring at Chan for a few seconds before returning to you. “Want to join us for a little bit? I know Chan says you like to spend your free time alone doing your own thing, but since you're here-”

“I’d love to!” Your mouth moves before your mind computes a careful response, growing into a sheepish smile as Changbin laughs at your impulsive reaction. Conversely, Chan seems stiffer by the second, not angered but vaguely displeased.

You ignored it, forcing your nerves to settle despite feeling the air around him thicken with masked tension. “So, what were two talking about earlier? From what I heard, it sounded like a fun conversation.” You smile at Changbin, hoping he'll see the desperation hidden in your eyes as you slip away from Chan and hurry to sit beside him on the sofa.

You're too close to him.

He's too close to you.

That's your first strike, and you don't even realize it.

Chan makes no move to point out your blatant mistake, either. His expression slips into a hardened glare as the two of you converse without him. His eyes burn into the side of your head, fixated on every fluctuating reaction you have to Changbin.

The spark of yearning that returns to your pretty eyes as they focus on him.

The gentle nods you give while he speaks.

How you are a bit closer to him when an intriguing topic extends itself.

Every little thing begins to irritate Chan.

You'd been huddled close to him only a minute ago like a trapped mouse, scared of a stranger and seeking his protection...

And now, here you are, eating up anything and everything his Changbin did or said.

Ungrateful.

Disrespectful.

A little liar is what you were.

Chan couldn't look past it, even as the hours ticked by. He joined in the pleasant conversations that dwindled into laughter over several shared take-out dishes, but he refused to give you the benefit of the doubt any longer. Barely tempering his envy of the attention and comfort you shared with Changbin when he'd done everything for you to earn such things for himself.

So ungrateful.

So fucking needy for another man's attention…

Chan counted down the seconds until Changbin’s phone rang half past one in the morning, vibrating on the glass coffee table you sat in front of with him.

“Hold on. Let me get this real quick,” Changbin said, snatching his phone from the table. He offered you a kind and apologetic smile to make up for shortening your moving conversation. “It's okay,” you mouthed, hands raised to wave off his unneeded reasoning as you watched him stand up to take the call in the hallway. Changbin ruffled his free hand through your hair, giving a silent ‘thank you’ on his way out of the room, flashing Chan a cheeky grin as he disappeared around the corner.

You stared at the empty spot next to you, still reeling through ideas of how to gain Changhins help or at least convince him to let you use his phone without Chan knowing…

But the blonde hadn't left you alone or taken his eyes off you and Changbin for a second the entire time he was there. If anything, Chan watched you painfully closer, looming like a shadow in every interaction and a little too good at insulating you had a healthy, willing, and established relationship with him.

Even if that was the furthest thing from the truth.

Nonetheless, Changbin hadn't shown any signs of recognizing the reality of your unwanted arrangement. You had no chance to subtly hint at it to him, aware of Chan’s vigilance even when he wasn't directly involved in the friendly exchanges.

You'd more than once caught him staring you down, arms folded over his chest, and his jaw set into a tight angle. A shiver ran up your spine every time you caught the look in his eyes.

How cold those brown irises turned, filling with deepening jealousy.

If you hadn't felt trapped and endangered before…

You felt that way now.

Your gaze refused to shift from the carport you sat on, hands twiddling in your lap as your heart raced a little faster second by second.

“You think I'm stupid, baby girl?”

You immediately shake your head ‘no’ as he speaks under the distant sound of Changbin’s ongoing phone call.

Chan scoffs, his head ticking once, and bites back with a wry smile. “Hm. So, she's a fucking liar too…”

It's a statement—an observation he's made, and you cannot deny it.

Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach, lodged there as you shake your head again and finally set your eyes on his.

“Chan, please...I’m not-“

“Shut up.”

Silence.

The moment his command hits your burning ears, a cold, heavy, and suffocating silence blankets the room. He lets it settle, holding your doe-eyed stare with a sharp glare. “Come here.”

Your hands freeze, tears welling in your eyes, but you blink them away.

Crying never works on Chan.

Never.

Your head lowers as you shift onto your knees and grip the coffee table's edge to stand up, a tremble catching your fingers as the cold glass amplifies the heat of anxiety taking over you.

“No,” Chan seethes out, leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees, head resting against his left hand as the right beckons you toward him, familiar veins contracting through them from the subtle gestures he makes.“Crawl.”

You swallow like he's shoved a lead pill down your throat by voicing the command, frozen in thinly veiled hesitancy as he waits for you to follow it.

The last remnants of pride and brimming hope melt away from you, drained out of your body as it shifts back from the edge of the table and onto the floor again. Chan watches you lower down to be on your hands and knees, your soft cheeks dampening with a few stray tears as you crawl towards him with timid caution in every move you make. The heat you feel rises to your face, painting it a solemn red when you settle between his legs. Chan plants his feet, making room for you and quickly locking you in his range.

“Turn around,” he whispers, left index finger making a small circle to emphasize the instruction. Slowly, you shift to face away from him, pleading with an invisible force to ease your panic, unable to see what he will do and anticipate when he’ll do so.

Chan hadn’t raised a hand to you. Not once.

He could be rough, drag, and move you with pointed strength when he felt you needed a firmer guide, but hitting you?

Never.

Him showing any sign of brute physicality towards you?

Never.

You’d begun to realize Chan didn’t need to exert force, always expressing it in his words, expressions, and acts of service rather than using violence.

So, your fear -that swirling and dizzying uncertainty you’d felt for weeks- stemmed from a much deeper and deranged concept your mind had conjured up.

You weren’t afraid of Chan.

No…

You were terrified of just how far and how many demented things you’d be willing to let him do to you…

Even if he’d cornered you into them.

Forced you.

You wanted him to do that on a certain level of consciousness. To give up fighting his insistence on loving you his way and bask in it for as long as he’d let you.

You’d begun dreaming about it day and night. Constantly fantasizing about him when you should hate him with every breath you take.

God, you wanted to hate him, claw at him, make him feel the pain you felt sitting alone in the room he kept you locked away in.

But the moment Chan’s breath spanned the nape of your neck, warm and slow as he breathed you in from behind, your head was empty of malicious intent towards him. All you could focus on was him: the smell of his cologne, the heat from his body, and the quiet hum of his satisfaction that seeped straight through your reddened ears down to the space between your legs.

His voice alone made you ache in a way you refused to acknowledge.

You pressed your thighs together, praying the steady pulse in your core would vanish if you tried hard enough to hide it.

You should’ve known better than to hope for any small triumph of self-control being near Chan because the second he saw you tense up and circle your hips, he tugged you back into him.

His left hand grasps the tousled hair at the back of your head, pulling and twisting, while the right grips your throat. A soft gasp of pain and moderate shock left your lips as he reared your head backward with a rough force on your hair, muffling the surprised sighs you let out by pressing the pads of his fingers directly against the nerves of your neck. Chan left you no choice but to inhale sharply through your nose, eyes trained on the twists and turns of your expression while his own remained inches wholly and away stoic.

You clawed at his right hand on intuition, longing for the burning need for air to settle into your lungs. Helpless abs, afraid of your excitement, you struggled against his hold on you, eyes shut tight when he choked you harder and grazed his nose along your cheek until he reached your ear. His lips pressed into a smile, lingering over the sensitive skin as he spoke to you. “I don’t want to hurt you…but,” he exhales, something kin to a groan falling from his mouth before he continues, “…I can’t keep letting you get away with this, baby girl.”

You shudder, stifling a frustrated whimper as Chan places a chaste kiss on the tip of your ear, nuzzling your head with his own as his proper slips under your ankle and forces it apart from your left one—immediate defiance courses through you being put into a new, compromising position.

Held tight against him, barely able to breathe, and legs now spread for him to see what you’d been trying to hide for nearly two weeks.

Clear evidence of how badly you wanted him.

How far you’d fallen into craving him.

Your heart stopped dead in its tracks as cool air enveloped the forming wet patch on your sheer rose pink underwear, barely hidden under the hem of your skirt. Chan whistled lowly at the sight, staring down at the evident mess you were making of yourself.

“Get a look at that, Princess…” he taunted you in a daze, watching your hips twist and buck as you tried to close your legs again and break away from him, but Chan held you steady the more you fought him.

The tears you fought so hard to hold back began to slip past your flutter lashes, dampening your burning cheeks and drizzling down to coat the veiny hand, practically suffocating you. “No…stop…I-it’s not…“ you stumbled to find an excuse, something to say that’d convince him and yourself that your arousal wasn’t natural.

But it was.

And it was thriving by the minute.

Chan bit into his lower lip, glancing over at the corner Changbin had yet to come walking around.

You could faintly hear the other man still speaking to whoever had called him but instantly pushed his princes to the back of your mind, hearing Chan’s voice melt through the air around you. “What am I going to do with you, pretty girl?” He muses, formulating answers to his question while you shiver at its implications. “You’ve been so good, too..” his praise warms your core, numbing your mind as he builds upon it.

“Doing whatever I tell you…” Chan smiles, gaze trained between the hallway entry and your vulnerable position. “Treating yourself better..”

You whine at that, feeling picked apart and full of yourself all at once by him.

“Being the good girl I knew you could be for me,” Chan mutters, his voice warm as new honey and his hand slowly shifting downward in your hair.

Past the nape of your neck, over your shoulder, down to your chest. You tense under his traveling touch, unconsciously arching up against the palm of his heavy hand as it gently kneads your left breast before attending to the right in the same manner.

Your head leers into his shoulder relaxed against the tight muscle he keeps hidden by a black shirt. A soft moan escaped your lips as they parted to attempt to catch a new breath, muffled by the crook of his neck as you inched closer to him the longer he shamelessly groped your chest.

Chan tongued his cheek, feeling your breathy moans fan over his skin, sending rivers of heat down his back, urging him to slip his hand under the hem of the lacey white camisole you wore. “I was so proud of you, baby girl…” he chuckled, eyes cutting towards the hall again before he pushed the half excuse for a shirt up above your perked breasts. You flinched, startled by his intent to fully expose you when his friend was just down the hall, but Chan wasn’t the slightest remorseful or cautious as he palmed your chest. He took his time, thumb rolling over around each of your nipples, slipping to knead your stomach when you arched for more.

“So…so proud,” he mumbles, studying the quick rise and fall of your chest as you try to breathe normally, hands moving to grip your forearm and wrist for a sense of support as he tortures your resolve. “Chan…Chan…please… sorry…I..” you give up speaking, too all over the place mentally to get a coherent sentence out, and ready to accept your fate in any way he gave it to you.

“But I guess even the best of girls need a little reminder, yeah?” Chan peers into your eyes, smiling softly and vaguely playful, but his tone is the furthest thing from it. You shake your head, brows knitting together in desperation. “No!” Chan, please…please, I promise…I’ll be good… I-I promise..”

Your pleading sinks into the room in hushed whispers, scarcely heard by anyone but him, and you watch his expression soften hearing it.

Was that…

Pity…?

Guilt?..

You couldn’t quite place the look on his face as he stared at you, but seconds later, it vanished, replaced with a smile you knew meant nothing good for you.

“I wish I could believe you, baby. I do, but you’ve earned exactly what’s coming to you.”

Chan exhales slowly, letting the hand he has splayed across your stomach inch further down to firmly cup your covered cunt and press his palm against the patch of cum spreading in the thin fabric covering it. You gasped loudly at the contact, hoping Changbin didn’t hear the lewd sound as it dwindled into a low whine.

Chan soaks in your visceral reaction to being touched indirectly, pressing his middle and ring finger into your underwear until he can feel the warmth of your cunt cover then and leak with pent-up arousal. You bit back a strangled scream at the intrusion, reveling in it and greedily rolling your hips forward against his hand for more. The tips of your toes curled through the thigh-high socks you wore because he seemed to like seeing you in them.

Your legs fell further apart, trembling with pleasure as he pumped his thick fingers into your fluttering cunt, soaking them and your ultimately useless panties in cum, and only stopping when the sound of Changbin’s footsteps came from down the hall.

Chan huffed, openly disappointed by the oncoming disruption but content with the state he’d put you in.

“The minute he leaves, you’re mine.” He groans into your ear, releasing you from his hold and readjusting your skirt and shirt before he helps you sit up straight. You blush, rightfully speechless, while he runs a hand through your hair to fix it just as Changbin rounds the corner.

a/n: I have such an intense migraine and it’s killing meeee

other links: n/a yet…

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

Sluttiest thing this man has ever done is that dammed teaser skit with that obnoxious ass stare and deep voice combo. He looked way too fine with that mask on and he knew it!!! 🖤 credits to creator!

[raven-cincaide]

Pirates, Kimono and a Compromise  

Summary: No one said picking a group Halloween costume for a Halloween party would be easy, even on a large-ish budget. However, no one warned you how much of a pride-wounder it would be when Megumi took over the task from right under your nose. 

Pairing: fem!Reader x Megumi  Sweetober prompt 7: Compromise  WC: 2.3 K Warnings: Cursing, Suggestive and hint at of frat party and inappropriate/vulgar behaviour, Fluff,  

“This is stupid.” 

“I have to agree with Fushiguro on this one; this costume is tacky and has no taste.” 

“ I have no idea why you guys are complaining this is-” Whack “-You’re right. It's tight, itchy, I can’t feel my balls and my- hey!”

You shook your hand after having slapped the back of Yuji’s head before he could say another lewd, obnoxious thing, which would be the final straw in the overworked-underpaid Halloween store assistant repertoire and ultimately result in the four of you being kicked out of another Halloween store. Although, if you had to be perfectly honest, it was unclear who suffered more pain from the slap, your hand or the pink-haired idiot who was already gawking at massive pair of fake boobs. Thankfully, before he could ogle those, Nobara caught sight of him and grabbed the back of his shirt before forcing him to stand like a little kid between herself and more-than-usually-annoyed Megumi. 

You sent an apologetic look to the store assistant and took a deep breath to gather the last of your maturity before you turned to face the trio. Hands-on your hips, frown on your lips, and an eye roll accompanying every complaint from the three idiots in front of you, all dressed in polyester knockoff versions of Captain Jack Sparrow. 

The eyepatch suited Nobara perfectly; the fake sword was the type Yuji would amuse himself with at the Halloween party. If not to look cool, then at least to join Todo and the other jokes in a ‘sword’ fighting contest which would somehow always end up in dick measuring contest. Megumi was the only one out of place, but you figured he’d be dissatisfied with the option no matter what you picked. 

Also, the fact that he put it on felt like a win in your book. 

“I don’t know what you three are complaining about” You sighed and ran a hand through your hair. “I won last week's event, suggested a group costume, and got Gojo’s credit card and green light to buy whatever. So, from the sounds of it, what I say goes?”

The trio groaned, not necessarily in protest but more in frustration that you didn’t let them cut into your little speech. 

“And besides, I’m the most competent of you three; Yuji would pick some dirt or gore, Nobara, your get-up would be complicated and economically ruin even Gojo and Megumi, dear…” You ran your eyes up and down him before delivering a below-the-belt blow to your beloved boyfriend: “.. if it were up to you, we’d be barricaded down in the soundproof cellar reading history books and doing tasks that ‘might be homework’; You’re the last one who’d know how to get ready for a party.” 

Yuji and Nobara protested; Megumi, however, snorted, eyes narrowed, pride not just wounded- but annihilated by your words. This wasn’t just embarrassment at his lack of social adequacy or his distaste for parties, Halloween and overall slacking culture. Your comment went beyond that, raising an unmistakable challenge in his eyes. 

“Wanna bet?”

You didn’t expect that reaction from him. Flustered? Yes. Blushing, huffing or walking away in frustration? Absolutely. But not such unmistakable cockiness as if you didn’t know one thing about him. Maybe you misjudged him. But you’d be damned if you were going to surrender like that. “You think you can do better than pirate suits for matching group costumes without exceeding our budget?” 

“ Half a budget. And it won’t just match; it will be a set.” Megumi stated, stretching his hand out for Gojo’s card. You curled your fingers over it protectively before you sighed and surrendered it. 

“If you fail though-” “- I won’t”, Megumi cut you off. “And if I do, I’ll never utter another word about your poor choice of costumes.” 

You gaped, mouth opened and closed as Megumi turned on his heel and grabbed Yuji by the back of his costume, dragging the pink-haired man after himself back into the changing room stalls. You and Nobara exchanged a look, half tense and half worried, but went to change out of your costumes as well. 

Half an hour later, you left the Halloween store. Megumi was in the lead, Yuji was yapping about all sorts of things they could have as the group costume, and Nobara was throwing in her own two cents. You stayed quiet, half hurt that your friends and boyfriend rejected the pirate idea so vehemently and half determined that Megumi wouldn’t be as good at finding something suitable for a party in the short period you three had. A bitter part of you felt almost sure you would hate his idea. 

That sentiment only increased as Megumi led the way further and further from the central shopping district and towards the train station. The confusion increased further as you took a train to the city's outskirts. 

You got out near the last station and walked towards a calm, if not on the poorer side, neighbourhood and the seamstress shop smack-dab between the residential area and what looked like an old industrial landscape. 

“It’s a shop that works with fabric waste”, Megumi stated as he pushed open the door to the seamstress shop and motioned for you all to go in into the store filled with cloth, clothes and even examples of how an old, worn-out kimono was transformed into a brand new jacket and pant set. “Old kimonos are turned modern, suits relined and fixed up instead of thrown, that kind of thing. The boss had time today to see us.” 

As if on cue, two plump women entered the central area, ready to greet you with dresses and suits all over their arms. It didn’t take long for Nobara to be swept up in pearls and gems and for Yuji to gawk at the idea of a tailored suit for himself.  Not even moments later he was arms deep in a restored Hugo Boss jacket while Nobara desperately tried to pick between a golden Chanel dress and a Dior blouse. 

On the other hand, you felt less impressed, not necessarily by the concept but rather by the fact that Megumi had checked this place out in advance and contacted the seamstresses about their availability. He was waiting for the right opportunity to spring this on you. Obviously, he did not trust your choices even before you had a chance to try to pick a costume for you four.  Rather than ruin their mood, you moved to the opposite side of the store and began aimlessly looking through the rolls of material that lined the shelves. Your hands fidgeted with the edges of your sleeves, your lips pulled down into a pout. 

“ You’re displeased.” Megumi’s voice came from slightly behind you. A moment later, he stood beside you. You could feel his eyes on you, but you didn’t look at him. “If we’re getting a free pass at Gojo’s card, we should get something we can use outside a one-time Halloween party.” 

You shoved your hands in your pockets, stubbornly refusing to look at him. A moment of tense silence passed, and you saw out of the corner of your eye how he shifted from one foot to the other, the way his hand twitched then clenched at his side, somewhere between wanting to reach out and touch you and leave you to sulking. 

“But then it’s not dress-up”, You muttered finally. You sighed, bit back the disappointment and the unmistakable whiny tone for something at least a little more mature “Then the whole point of Halloween is to get a chance to be what you’re not. This is a cool concept, but suits and dresses can be worn any day of the week. To be a pirate, nun, or devil is ridiculous; that’s the whole point. This is the only time in a year we can poke fun at old childhood dreams and silly fears with no repercussions. Fun without meaning or purpose.” 

You saw the unmistakable drop of Megumi’s head, his bangs coming forward to cover his eyes. The tension in his shoulders, the way his body grew rigid at the all too familiar critique, the things that were a point of friction between you, the things you heard Gojo scold Megumi for time and time again: Fun for the sake of fun. Not to consider practicality. Not to plan ten steps. Live in the moment instead of focusing on frugality and meaning. 

Be greedy. Be selfish. Be immature, 

Megumi shoved his hands back into his pockets. His jaw clenched, his lips set in a firm line so hard they lost their colour. You knew it meant he heard you, and acknowledged your point but didn’t want to back down from his decision. He didn't need your opinion because he had taken Gojo’s card off of you. He could just go and buy whatever he thought was best. 

But Megumi didn’t want to fight with you.

He didn’t want to do it in public, and he especially didn’t like the stubborn tension to settle between you two that would last until after Halloween. Maybe even longer, depending on how long you held the grudge: the unmistakable coldness, the less engaged conversations, and the overall hurt feelings from both sides. Megumi didn’t want to rock the boat in an already rocky relationship. 

You didn’t want to fight with him either. 

But you also didn’t want to feel like an idiot who turned up to a Halloween party where everyone took their time to dress up and look pretty and sexy and scary, and you got there wearing a freakin suit or a prom-looking dress. You wanted to feel childish, fun, maybe sexy, maybe stupid. But responsibility was the last thing you wanted to be on this night. 

“I’ll just get my costume,” You said finally, just like him refusing to back down from your standpoint but growing tired of the unmistakable standstill between you two. “You three go together, and I’ll go by myself; if it’s too awkward for you, I’ll just go to another Halloween Party. There are plenty of them this time of year.” 

There was an unmistakable shift in Megumi’s demeanour. “No, that’s-” 

“- Why don’t we compromise!” You spun around to see Yuji leaning towards you two right over the pile of cloth on the table, clearly having listened in on the conversation between you and Megumi. “Get a fancy suit and dress here and the Pirate costume- Gojo won’t notice!” 

“You dimwit, there’s a budget. Both will fly right over!” Nobara huffed, coming closer. “I say we just go elsewhere, a middle ground where we can get a decent suit and a Halloween costume.” 

You heard Megumi sigh. “Both ideas suck”, He answered, cutting himself off long enough for Yuji to ask ‘who’s the dimwit now’ Nobara and her violent retaliation, “We should compromise-” 

-” Then how is it different from our suggestion?!” Nobara and Yuji yelled, but Megumi turned to you, ignoring the pair completely.-“-How would you feel if we modified your idea a little? A Pirate is a little outdated, but what about a yakuza? ” 

You tilted your head to the side, finally looking at him as he motioned towards one of the repurposed Kimono. You must admit that the black material, the inner silk, and the golden thread embroidery were pretty and much more excellent than the pirate suit you all tried on earlier. 

“ We can pick the suits with embellishments, forgo a shirt and stick on some temporary tattoos. Maybe add some jewellery as well?” Megumi offered, running a hand through his hair in a desperate attempt to appear calmer than he felt. 

You realised he was stretching an olive branch by combining his idea and need for practicality with your desire to dress up and have fun. Letting out a sigh, you nodded slowly, finally approaching the repurposed Kimono into a suit jacket and holding it up towards Megumi. “On three conditions,” You said. 

“One, I get to pick your suit” You saw him quirk an eyebrow. Still, he bit his tongue from speaking “, and two, Me and Nobara go as ‘customers’ or wives or whatever” Now it was his lips that quirked up into a hint of a smile as Nobara screamed out a content ‘YES’ at the prospect of getting into one of those fancier looking night-out dresses and ran towards those. Yuji gave you two a thumbs up before he was dragged away to be Nobara’s little ‘pack horse’, aka human hanger, as she picked out the styles she wanted to try. 

You found the sight a little amusing, the two idiots and two seamstresses trying to satisfy Nobara’s never satiable demands while also finding something fitting the theme for the oddly-shaped man that was Yuji. 

“And the third?” Megumi asked as you began to browse the different suits available, his hand on your arm halting your movements. 

“ A kiss” 

He blinked at you, his face turning a shade of pink at the thought of a public display of affection, even if no one was looking at you two. “Will I be forgiven then? Oh, fuck it.” Megumi leaned closer; his lips pressed to yours in a not-so-shy kiss that was a far cry from the shy peck you expected. 

Maybe Yuji and Nobara were right when they suggested a compromise. You could get used to your disagreements if this was how quickly and sweetly they ended. 

Author note: Sometime ago we mentioned in class different companies that repurposed all clothes into something new. I thought of them while writing this fic so.. well.. I guess it just became a responsible-fashion with the trio fic <3 hope you enjoyed it!

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