#and it wasn’t the end of the world and my friend wasn’t surprised
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chaosduckies · 3 days ago
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Friends in Small Places (6)
Long story short: hit a writing block, had trouble editing, school, but we're so back and I'm excited to write all of the ideas that I've been thinking about for forever! (and thank you to the people who gave me so many ideas for future chapters and scenes) Oh man I love writing size shifter stories. So anyways I hope you enjoy this very short chapter!
Word count: 2.5k
CW: None!
It was safe to say that things were slowly getting back to normal. Things weren’t as chaotic anymore. I was allowed to keep on seeing Cas, and I did every day after my classes. He seemed to like the company even if we never really did anything. 
I was still working on getting permission to at least let him see his parents. It wasn’t exactly going so well if I were being honest. Anytime I mentioned it they said that the idea was absurd. I tried asking several of the nurses what it would take to get his parents or someone he knows down here... They said that as long as he was still unstable then he wasn’t allowed to see anyone. But I didn’t understand. Cas seemed perfectly fine. That entire situation two weeks ago was a big thing but he’s doing so much better now! If anything he’s somehow even more cautious about his movements. I don’t understand why they don’t just let him have one nice thing. 
Even if Cas wasn’t able to have any other visitors besides me and a few nurses and doctors, I managed to get them to agree to another therapist coming in for a few days. Ryan had asked me tons of questions about what was going on, and I had to answer all of them. Of course, being the great friend that he is, he offered to help out by trying to get Cas either out of there or get his brother to come. Either one would be great, and since he’s older and more experienced they might listen to him more than me. 
After classes, Ryan said he had to go check up on his partner before we left.  I asked why he didn’t have to stay with her all the time, and he just explained that she was doing so much better under his care that they were already about to get him a new “patient”. If I were being honest I envied him. He was so much better at this than I was, and he gets along with pretty much everyone. I wondered why I couldn’t, but that was an obvious answer.
I hadn’t expected any of this to happen while watching over Cas. I mean I thought I was doing a good job up until the incident, but to be fair there wasn’t much I could do in that situation other than just try and calm him down after they lied to him. I would be upset if I wasn’t allowed to see my parents anymore and they kept me pretty much isolated for the entirety of my life. Who wouldn’t be? Cas has apologized more times than I count for “making things harder” for me. One it wasn’t his fault, and two, he’s so careful and gentle there was no way he’d make things harder for me. Of course, initially, I had thought it would be impossible to even do something like this, but I’m learning a lot about this broken world we live in.
Ryan came back a few minutes later, ecstatic as always. Of course he wasn’t scared. Why would he be? He was a shifter too. Hopefully the two will get along, I already told Cas that I might be bringing a friend sometime this week, so there weren’t any huge surprises. I just had to hang onto hope that nothing bad would happen. 
“You said he’s really anxious a lot of the time right?” He asked me as we walked along the sidewalk to the huge hospital building. 
“Yeah, it’s mostly him worrying about hurting me, or really anyone in the room with him.” He nodded his head, seemingly excited about this. It was almost like he had a plan. Maybe the same thing he did with his partner? Well.. maybe a little different since his partner shrinks. Meanwhile, mine is a literal skyscraper. 
  The awkward silence stretched on between us, but that was quickly put an end to, “Hey Liam, about that incident, you said that no one tried helping him at first? Just straight lockdown?” Ryan looked a little uneasy, but I had to nod my head. I had wondered why he asked the question, but I wasn’t going to question him. But it was a little strange why he was so troubled. For as long as I’ve known him he was the kind of person that hasn’t been afraid, so it was making me worry a little. What was he scared of? 
“Ah well, I’m glad to at least help! I can’t wait to meet him either.” The nervous look on his face disappeared almost as fast as it came. Another reason why I was jealous of him. It’s like he could just brush off any inconvenience, any tiny little negative thought he’s ever had in just an instant. Though, I guess that’s what makes him such an amazing friend. 
“Yeah, he’s extremely nice. Fun to be around.” I smiled. I wasn’t lying either. He was the nicest person I’ve met, and that’s saying something. After a while, you get used to being around someone who’s much bigger than you, and then you realize they’re more scared of themselves than you are of them… I took a deep breath, finally making it onto the ground of the hospital. 
Ryan has never been here before, so I had to help him get through checking in, and of course any new people that aren’t related to or working with Cas have to do a deep and thorough search for whatever reason. Ryan kept on joking about all of the safety measures he had to go through, even making him take off his hoodie. Seriously, what were they even looking for? I didn’t have to go through as many of the checks since I come every day and actually have a connection with Cas. 
After about ten minutes of finally getting Ryan to be able to come in the room with me, we were finally walking down the huge hallway as the nurse led us. We reached the door, the nurse opened it and gave us both a smile. Well, here's to hoping Cas isn’t too spooked by Ryan. I mean I did warn him. 
I walked in front of Ryan, slowly walking in, and seeing Cas finish one of the books that were on the bookshelf. When the door slammed behind us, he looked up and lightly smiled, eyes trailing behind me and I could tell that his nerves shot up almost immediately. Especially when he fumbled while trying to place his book on the ground, instead landing with a loud thud. It made my anxiousness get the better of me before I brushed it off and stopped in front of them. 
“Uh, remember when I told you that I’d be bringing a friend here? Well, this is Ryan.” I introduced them, watching Ryan confidently walk a little ahead of me. 
“Hi! It’s nice to meet you. Casper, right?” Cas stared, almost like he was shocked at how confident they were. 
“H-hi. You can c-call me Cas.” His eyes darted to me, as if asking what he should do, but not even I had an idea. If I were being honest I was just going to let Ryan figure these things out. Usually Cas and I just played a few board games even when the pieces were as big as I was, or watched whatever movies he was allowed, which weren’t that many. I know it doesn’t sound like much but if I were being honest it seemed to be helping a lot with his confidence. It helps me get used to it too. He still seemed a little scared to move sometimes though, even if he doesn’t admit it. 
“Well Cas, we’re gonna get you out of here once and for all!” Ryan claimed. Cas looked at me, a little shocked at the outburst but gave his best nervous smile he could manage. I didn’t know what Ryan had planned but I trusted that he would make the smart decisions. I know Cas gets a little scared of new things, especially with these new pills they have him on. Paroxetine? I could tell that it was a strong one. I guess they added whatever makes him hurt so much in it because every time he takes it I notice how he cringes at any movement he makes or how shaky his hands get. I want his pain tolerance, but I don’t want to get it like how he did. It was inhumane and didn’t even seem to be helping him control his height. 
“Uh hey, you won’t be doing anything too much right?” I whispered. 
“Yeah don’t worry I’m not gonna do much. You know me.” He smiled. I did know how he worked, and it always seemed to work no matter the person. It was kind of pathetic of me that I needed so much help, but I was doing this so Cas could have a real life instead of being cooped up in a house without being able to see his parents. I felt so bad, and if this was the one time I could do something worthwhile well then I’d do what I could. 
I walked over to Cas, sitting by him to let Ryan do his thing. I just had to watch as Ryan sat and played 20 questions, asking questions about each other. It really kind of seemed like they were getting along a lot faster than Cas and I did. Maybe that was because they could both kind of relate, and Ryan was a lot more of a people person than I was. This was a good thing though. Things would move along faster and we could get Cas out of here and able to see his family again. Now I just had to figure out how I was going to repay Ryan for helping me out. I wasn’t so confident that I would’ve been able to do this on my own, even if Cas and I were getting really close. 
At some point I think I fell asleep, and when I woke up it was getting late. I groaned, sitting up and yawning. One look around and I realized that I was still in Cas’s room, even in the same place. 
“Mmm… Cas?” I rubbed my eyes before catching his hand in the corner of my vision. I whipped my head around, seeing that he had a book in hand as usual. 
“You’re up?” He quietly whispered, his attention focused on me now. 
“Yeah. Where’d Ryan go?” I lazily stood up, searching around and not seeing him anywhere. 
“Oh uh, he left a while ago. He didn’t want to wake you up.” He laughed softly, wincing when he thought he was speaking too loudly. Guess I’d have to talk to Ryan tomorrow or something. Just to see what he thinks I should do. I trusted his judgment more than I trusted mine. 
“How’d it go? Sorry I fell asleep.” I asked, stretching a little bit and packing a few things up. I knew that the nurses would come in eventually and force me out, but I’d just like to use whatever time I had left to check up on him. 
“N-no. You’re all good,” He started, nervously smiling, “Um, he was nice. I liked him. I’m glad you’re trying to help me get out of here, but I don’t think that they’ll let me.” He sighed sadly, eyeing the cast around my leg and cringing. I looked down, sucking in a deep breath. 
“Could you help me up, please?” His eyes widened, hesitantly lowering his hand by me. I struggled to get on without moving my cast around too much but managed before holding me above his knees. I could tell he was nervous, maybe even a little scared but this wasn’t the first time I’ve been in his hands and I trusted that he wouldn’t drop me. 
“Well, I think they’ll let you out of here. They’re just being stubborn.” I shrugged my shoulders. I think it was ignorant that they wouldn’t let him out of here already. To me, he’s doing a lot better than when I first met him. 
“¿De verdad lo crees? You really think so?” His tone was sad like he was just losing hope of getting out of here at all. Well, if I just left him here alone I would’ve never lived with myself. That would just be too harsh. Plus, I like to think that we were friends. I mean, we hang out pretty much every day unless I had schoolwork to catch up on. Why would I want to leave him here alone in the first place? 
“Why wouldn’t I? Someone as nice and nervous as you shouldn’t have to be watched over.” We both laughed. 
“Nervous? What? I’m not nervous.” 
“I can literally feel your hand shaking right now.” I joked, getting a soft laugh out of him. He looked away for a moment, the silence stretching between us. 
“Liam, tha-” 
Cas went quiet whenever we heard the door slam open, a nurse walking in. For some odd reason, they just looked a little troubled with something but motioned for me to go. I sighed as Cas lowered me back down, watching carefully as I climbed down and walked towards the door, the nurse eyeing my crutches the entire way.
“See you tomorrow!” I waved bye to him, getting a tiny wave in return before the nurse closed the door behind me. She escorted me out, but instead of towards the exit, it was towards another room I’d never been to before. I was about to question her before she walked into the room, grabbing a piece of paper and sighing, a nervous look on her face. 
“I have no idea if I’m making the right decision, but don’t make me regret it.” She sighed, signing what looked to be a ton of important information, but what caught my eye was the bold print at the top. Allowance of family members. My eyes widened in shock, my heartbeat growing faster from excitement. I… did it? Was she letting him see his family? 
“This paper allows Casper to see one family member for one day. The professionals cannot know about this, but… I do believe that after hearing from you two earlier that he should be allowed this. So, here you go.” She handed me the paper and pen, with only one more place to sign to officiate that we were allowing this. I quickly grabbed the pen and signed, not even hesitating for one moment, “Thank you! I don’t know what to say!” I smiled, hugging the nurse. She sighed, hugging me back and telling me that I could go back to tell Cas. 
I was surprised that I didn’t trip on my way there out of excitement, and when I opened the door I couldn’t hold in my excitement for him. 
“Cas! How would you like to see your brother tomorrow?” I smiled, seeing the shock and surprise in his eyes, and it was priceless.  ——————
TAKE THAT WRITING BLOCK!!! Oh man I can’t wait to continue writing this. And so sorry for it being like five months since I’ve actually updated this but WE’RE BACK!!! Thanks for reading! :D
Taglist: @da3dm @smolboiremy @box-beanz
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iwasntsatiated · 2 months ago
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tonight I was reminded that I am known and still loved regardless.
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borathae · 4 months ago
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↳ Index [Day 31 - Werewolves]
Pairing: Alpha Dom!Jungkook x f. Omega sub!Reader
Genre: childhood best friends to enemies to lovers!AU, werewolf!AU
Warnings: Kook is kinda cold at first, it is implied that OC gets sold into a forced marriage where she will be tortured and assaulted (not to Kook but a villain character hahaha), yeah...her future is not looking good, or is it?, Koo might have a plan :----)
Kinks: the trope of "just the tip" and "we shouldn't be doing this", yeah besties i went there, sex in a shed in the forest, sex by the bonfire, nudity, naked cuddling for warmth *wink wink*, he is bigger and stronger than her, size & muscle & strength kink, he pins her down, fuck i'm literally so small when it comes to him like bro please i have so many thots, hahah sorry i'm really into him haahah, he pins her wrists & puts his hand over her mouth to silence her, huge werwolf dick, knotting, multiple orgasms for both, "just the tip" in spooning position, clit massages, rough penetrative sex in pronebone & doggy style, he has her in a headlock at one point, breeding for the sake of scent marking her, so much fucking cum oh lord, dirty talk, he has fangs, he bites her shoulder, he growls, what if i was weak?? what then??, tears, eye contact, this is emotional & has plot and i wanna write more about them, cuddly & safe aftercare, the plot in this is so good omfg
Wordcount: 11.5k
a/n: Click here if you wanna see his dick. I have zero (0) Z E R O knowledge of the workings of the omegaverse. i know that there’s alphas and betas and omegas but that’s it. and that there is heat and knots and slick and scenting(?) but how the dynamics work or what ABO each means? no clue. so if this is inaccurate, bear with me and let's see it as my interpretation of werwolves instead. Okay? Okay. Jjssjjs i also added this idea to the mix ps: i actually don't wanna talk about this, i need to recover first BRO GOODBYE this was kinktober 2024 besties FJJDF what a way to end it tbfh
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The storm caught you by surprise. You wouldn’t particularly mind it if it wasn’t for the company you have to keep. 
Jeon Jungkook. A stubborn, self-centred peacock of a man who thinks he is something just because he is the son of the alpha. 
Now, to perhaps understand the situation a little better, one might need what the literary world calls backstory. 
You lived in a small mountain town far away from any big human city. The town was surrounded by high walls and visitors rarely found their way to it. It was wanted by the townspeople because you weren’t particularly human. Most humans would call you demons, but you like to call yourselves werewolves. You lived in a pack and the town was your lair.
You can be human but also turn into a wolf by choice. Some choose to keep some of their wolfish features such as their golden eyes or sharp fangs, while others looked entirely human when they walked on two legs. 
Jeon Jungkook was the son of the pack alpha and therefore heir of the title. His mother was an alpha as well, which naturally gave him the alpha gen. He was stronger and faster than the other wolves in the pack and he had control over his body during the full moon. He never hid his fangs and showed his golden eyes whenever he was provoked. He earned his pack tattoos when he was twelve after killing three enemy wolves and when he turned eighteen, he earned the pack piercings after fulfilling the maturity rituals within a day. Something only his father managed to do before him.
Ever since that day, Jungkook became even more obnoxious and unlikable than he already was.
You weren’t so lucky. Born as an omega into a normal family with normal siblings in a normal house, your life has been pretty…normal. You are the same age as Jungkook, which naturally made you go to the same classes from elementary to high school. And throughout your academic career, you never learned to like him. 
He was an alpha while you were an omega. You were the only one like this from your family, but they never treated you differently. You were a beloved and cherished family member and therefore lived a normal life until your older brother made a mistake and you had to carry the consequences.
He killed the promised omega wife of the enemy’s alpha’s son. The warring alpha wanted to slaughter the entire town at first, but Jungkook’s father persuaded him to take revenge another way. Take one of the village’s omegas and marry her to his son. “She will be complacent and quiet. Once she is married, she will be your property. You can take out your anger on her.” So Jungkook’s father told him and the enemy alpha agreed happily. One night later, you were dragged from your home with no way to escape your future. You were born this way, it wasn’t your fault and now it would be your death sentence. You cursed your brother that night who begged to be taken in your stead. You told him to choke on it. It was the last thing you said to him and probably will ever say to him. You already started to regret it. 
Jungkook was ordered to make sure that you would arrive at the enemy village safe and sound. It has been three days ever since that night and all your hatred for anyone and anything has been directed solely at him. 
“The rain’s annoying me. Let’s take shelter”, Jungkook says dryly. 
“No.” 
Jungkook glares at you.
“Yes”, he hisses, grabbing your arm by your elbow to drag you to a shed nearby. “I’m not gonna walk in the rain. Besides, it’s late. We need to rest.” 
“Let go of me”, you protest, stumbling after him. There isn’t much that you can do. He is stronger and bigger and because of his status, he naturally has almost instinctive control over your actions. You could fight against these instincts, but it’s a lot easier not to. 
“Would you rather get sick in the rain?” 
“Maybe, yes. Maybe I’ll get sick enough to die. At least like this, I won’t be sold into torture”, you spit, ripping yourself free from his grasp. Again, all your hatred and anger is directed towards him, so it is easy to fight your instincts right now. 
Jungkook gawks at you in surprise. 
“I mean it”, you insist.
He frowns. He steps close and lifts you off the ground, throwing you over his shoulder.
“Hey! Let me down, you fuck!” you yell, flashing your fangs and kicking around you. 
Jungkook merely shoulders you better and walks, frowning deeply. 
“You brought this onto yourself.” 
“I hate you. I fucking hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do. You big, smelling piece of shit.” 
Jungkook kicks the shed open and drops you. You stumble in surprise, but catch yourself pretty quickly. You and he are mere inches away, sharing air. The constant lighting cutting the sky illuminates your angry faces. You and Jungkook have your golden eyes out and show off your fangs. Your bodies are steaming as your increased body heats dry the water. 
“I’m gonna let it slip because we were classmates, but insult me again and I will make you be quiet. Understood?” he gnarls. 
You step closer, making him taste your words. 
“Go kiss my ass.” 
You turn your back to him and stomp further into the shed.
The shed wasn’t much bigger than ten square meters. There were tools on each wall and some tools scattered around the ground. Clearly it was meant as storage for woodworkers. One corner had neat stacks of wood and on a table, some blankets were stacked in case some of the workers needed to stay the night.
“Great. That’s luxury,  isn’t it?” you grumble.
The door slams closed behind you, making you flinch. You don’t look however, wanting to appear stronger than you feel. In truth, you are scared and alone and heartbroken. You are frightened. You are sad. You are afraid. You are helpless and hopeless. And you are only a little bit angry. As you walked, you couldn’t stop crying. You were happy for the rain because it masked the constant tears running down your face and you were happy for the loud thunder masking your sobs.
You are being sold like property to a man who will torture you for sports. All you want is to be home and to be held and to have someone pay for your fucking therapy because, goddamn, you are going to need a hell lot of therapy if you should survive this. 
Jungkook is the last person you want to be with right now. He lacks empathy and kindness and has a tendency to impulsive anger. You are waiting for him to hurt you after slamming the door, frozen on the spot. 
But it doesn’t come. Instead, he swerves past you to get firewood. You can only watch him, frozen like a scared little girl despite having long moved past your second decade on this cruel earth. 
Jungkook uses his claws to ignite the fire by scratching them over a stone. He blows into the amber until it forms flames, then he stands up. He hooks his fingers in his shirt and takes it off. 
You gasp and look away. You don’t know what he is going to do but it scares you. Is he going to test you out now? Make sure that the alpha is going to get a good delivery?
“Relax. I need to dry my clothes and I can’t do that on my body. I’ll catch a cold otherwise.”
“Oh.” 
Jungkook scoffs and starts unbuckling his belt. You watch his tattooed fingers work. He is wearing heavy silver rings on them. Yep, your people can handle silver without pain. It’s only a myth that it hurts you. Just as garlic being lethal for vampires is a myth. Humans like to tell these tales to sleep better at night.
Jungkook begins taking off his pants, meeting your gawking eyes.
“Stop staring and bring the blankets instead.”
“Oh, uhm. Sorry.” 
You instinctively obey. 
“Make a bed by the fire. Away from the door.” 
You obey again. 
Afterwards you lift your head, having to gasp and stare. What? Stare? Why can’t you look away? 
He is completely naked, currently hanging up his clothes on a chair. You should want to look away but you can’t. His body is sculpted, his muscles well defined. He currently has his back turned to you. It is so big and broad, contrasting against his small waist. Shit, his legs and butt are so big and sculpted in comparison to it. His back is covered scars. Slashes, bite marks, cuts. Some seem to have dug very deep when fresh.
“Just spit it out”, Jungkook hisses, rolling his shoulders which makes his back muscles shift and flex.
“What?” 
“I can feel you staring. Just say what you wanna say.” 
“Your back. It’s covered in scars.” 
Jungkook touches his own back, tracing the scars he can reach.
“I guess it is.”
“Who did this to you?” 
“Too many people to count.”
“What happened to them?” 
“The fact that I’m still here and they’re not, should be answer enough. Shouldn’t it?” 
You gulp. 
Jungkook turns.
You gulp even harder. Look away! You know that no matter how hard you beg your eyes, they won’t look away. It is like they are enchanted.
His pecs are big, clearly sculpted and strong. His stomach is defined, carrying scars as well. But what truly catches your eyes is his cock. Sitting under a dark, masculine bush of pubes, it glistens in the shine of the fire. It is big, even soft, a little tanner than the rest of his skin and sitting against a pair of big, plumb balls made for breeding. So this is what the cock of an alpha looks like. The effect it has on you is embarrassing. You feel slick build up in your holes and saliva collect in your mouth. 
“Quit your staring. It’s like you’ve never seen a dick before.” 
You shake out of your trance, looking away in embarrassment. Your face feels on fire. Holy fuck, what is wrong with you? 
“You have seen dick before, right? Weren’t you and Tae a thing in high school?” he talks as he gets under the blanket. 
“Uh, yeah, uh. We were.” 
“And knowing Tae, he fucked you. Didn’t he?” 
You turn away in embarrassment, rubbing the side of your neck. Of course he did, but Jungkook doesn’t need to know that. 
He figures it out instantly however, glancing at your middle when you aren’t looking. Just for a second, nothing more.
“So stop being weird about it”, he says and lies down. 
You shrink. Jungkook studies you. You are trembling in your wet, cold clothes. He pities you.
“Get naked and hang your clothes up to dry”, he orders.
You want to move in obedience at first, but then stop. You are too scared to obey instinctively.
“No. Close your eyes.”
Jungkook groans and closes his eyes.
“You’re so stuck up. You should practice being naked in front of other people. I heard that Alpha Urquard likes for his pack to watch wedding nights.”
You bite down tears. Great. Not only will you be assaulted, it will happen in front of god knows how many people. What if you just throw yourself onto one of the sharp tools? It would be a bitch way to go, but it’s better than what will happen to you. 
You ogle the pitchfork. Maybe you could do it. Maybe.
“Hey!”
You snap out of it. You whip around, meeting Jungkook’s eyes.
“Hurry up and come here.”
“What?”
“Come here. It’s better than over there.”
You ogle the pitchfork then his darkened face. Did he figure you out?
“I’m not gonna repeat myself. Get out of your wet clothes and come to me.”
“Ple-please close your eyes.”
Jungkook sighs in defeat and obeys. With shaking fingers, you get naked. With trembling knees, you walk to his side. With weak muscles, you get under the blanket next to him. There is only one blanket and you try your fucking hardest not to touch his body in any kind of way. He left you the spot closer by the fire so you were warmer and he could oversee the door.
Jungkook, who senses your presence, opens his eyes. He studies your face, then your body. You have the blanket pulled up to your neck, shivering uncontrollably. Even now, you seem plagued by the cold.
He furrows his brows in distaste and closes the distance. He manages to put his arm around you before your quiet beg freezes him.
“Please don’t hurt me.” 
He moves away, studying you in shock. Your eyes are squeezed shut, your fingers are trembling as you grasp the blanket.
“Why would I hurt you?”
The honest confusion in his voice forces you to open your eyes.
The fire casts deep shadows into his face as much as it illuminates other parts of it. His wet hair is drying slowly, sticking to his wrinkled forehead. He is furrowing his brows which explains the wrinkles.
“Why would I hurt you?” he repeats his question with more urgency. 
“I don’t know.”
“I was ordered to make sure that you arrive unharmed to Urquard. The last thing I’ll do is hurt you.”
“Please don’t.”
“Please don’t?” 
“Don’t make sure that I arrive safely.” 
Jungkook blinks in surprise. Such vulnerability isn’t what he expected from the once feisty, rude woman of before. You are tiny in fear, trembling uncontrollably and begging him with greyed, hopeless eyes. 
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re gonna be an alpha’s wife. That’s every omega’s dream”, he snarls, sounding weirdly jealous. 
You burst into tears instantly, turning your back to him as you curl into a small ball. You wail loudly, unable to pretend any longer. You don’t want to be married off. You don’t want it.
“No, uh… stop crying. I, I’m ordering you to stop crying”, he panics, hissing his words which only makes you cry harder. 
He stares for a while, fumbling with his words. In the end he doesn’t know what to say, turning off his brain to speak from his heart instead.
“Don’t cry, it’s gonna be okay”, he says softly, rubbing your shoulder.
His touch is tender and soothing. You sob despite it or perhaps because of it. It feels so weird to receive because it is nice. 
“Hey, it’s okay”, he tells you, draping his arm over you. Like this, your bodies are touching under the blanket. He feels so warm against your skin. “It’s gonna be okay.”
“It’s not gonna be okay. I’m being sold like a pig to a man who likes to watch his daughters in law get raped in front of the entire pack and who will use every second of his life to torture me.” You shrink into yourself. “I just wanna die. I’m so scared.” 
“Hey no, don’t say that. Don’t be scared, I’m here.” 
“I heard that Urquard killed his first wife by ramming a medal hook into her stomach and hanging her like this. All because she couldn’t give him a child with the alpha gen. Please just kill me, please.” 
“I’m not gonna kill you, ___.”
The last time Jungkook said your name, you and he were both eleven and played adventurers in the forest. He celebrated his twelfth birthday two weeks later and another two weeks later, he killed those three wolves and got his tattoos. He stopped playing with you and stopped saying your name. Quite frankly, he stopped playing with any children since that day, saying stuff like “a man wouldn’t play stupid stuff” or “my father says that it’s weak to play” and he became quiet and distant. Maybe he became sadder as well and lonelier. 
Your name from his tongue after almost fifteen years forces you to turn in his arms. For just a second, the same innocent and playful boy looks back at you before you blink and come back to reality. His features and eyes are still the same shape and colour but he seemed to have grown into them. His left cheek carries a scar these days and his brows are furrowed more than they are relaxed. 
“I’m not gonna kill you, ___. And I’m not gonna let you kill yourself either.”
“So you would rather see me sold to a monster?” You squeeze out tears of anger and frustration. “I hate you so much. You sadistic, heartless piece of shit.”
Jungkook frowns deeper.
“You alphas are all the same. You think just because you are stronger than the rest of us, you can push us around like cattle. We aren’t cattle. We are people, we live normal and good lives. We are nothing special but that’s good. We’re boring and mundane but we love deeply. Unlike you disgusting, selfish alphas who see us as nothing but merchandise.”
“Are you done now?”
“I’ve only started. You are heartless, selfish, self-absorbed, apathetic and a snob. At the spot where your heart once was, a rotten piece of coal is sitting and when you talk, plants die out of spite.” 
“Anything else you like to add?” 
“You are the worst person to ever exist. You are elitist and stubborn and way too obsessed with status. And you…” Your eyes fill with tears. “...you broke my heart before I even knew what heartbreak was.” 
Jungkook’s eyes darken in an unfamiliar emotion. Guilt? Regret? More anger?
“We did everything together until one day, you decided that I wasn’t good enough anymore. For fuck’s sake, we were twelve and you acted like I was embarrassing for doing stuff kids our age were allowed to do.”
“You think that I had a choice?” He finally speaks up and you get a feeling that it was your turn to listen. “I stopped being a kid in my father’s eyes the day I killed those wolves. I didn’t wanna push you away, but father made me.”
“What?”
“I became his heir that day, I sealed my fucking fate. I had to stop playing a-and doing kid’s stuff. He forced me to train day in and out. I had to be the perfect man. I was twelve, for fuck’s sake. I was a fucking kid who wanted to play adventurers in the forest with, with his….with his best friend.” 
The silence which follows after his confession is deafening. Fifteen years of hating him. Fifteen years of thinking that he hated you. And all this time, he only acted like this because his father made him. You meet his emotional eyes, feeling emotional yourself.
“I was your best friend?” you whisper.
He nods his head, biting down on his lower lip to stop it from trembling. 
“I miss you, ___”, he presses out. 
You feel lost for words. You are so shaken in fact that you can’t even find it in you to cry. Fifteen years. Fifteen years of hating him for what he did and wishing for an apology you thought would never come and here it is. His confession. His apology. 
“It’s been fifteen years and I still do. I miss you and I’m sorry.” He cups your face, wiping away the remnants of tears. “I’m so sorry.”
You stare. And stare. And stare. 
“Please say something”, he whispers.
“I don’t know what to say.” 
“Just anything, please.” 
“You’re the most selfish piece of shit I have ever seen.”
Jungkook’s face falls in shock. His eyes show how much your words hurt him.
“Why tell me your stupid apology now? Why confess to me now? Knowing that I will be sold into a life of sex slavery and torture?” You hit his chest. “Why tell me now when you literally deliver me to my fucking death? You piece of shit, you’re selfish and cruel and I want you dead.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do. You and your entire family and the rest of the pack. Die. All of you just die.” 
You hit him with more vigour. More and more and more. 
“Enough”, he stops you, pinning your wrists into the ground and with it, rendering you helpless, “stop hitting me, please.”
You spit at his face. 
Jungkook flinches back. He sits up and wipes it away.
“What the fuck? You spat at me. Why would you do that?”
“Go to hell and shove your sappy confession up your sadistic ass”, you hiss. You feel no ounce of remorse for what you did. 
Jungkook wipes your spit into the blanket and moves quickly. He puts your wrists together and pins them above your head. Before you can spit again, he puts his other hand over your mouth, rending your legs useless as well by slinging one of his muscular legs over yours. 
There is no fabric between your bodies. You are skin against skin. Raw and naked and hot. You can feel his dick against you and you know that he can feel your tits against his arm. You are rendered useless, vulnerable to whatever he plans to do to you now that spat at him. You are scared, but you are also droopy. It is that same droopiness you felt when you looked at his naked body. Except stronger and more unbearable. You are hotter and there is slick gathering in your holes. You can barely breathe, but maybe this is because of his hand over your mouth. 
“Stop fighting me and listen”, Jungkook talks with his lips close to your face. You can’t stop staring at them. You fight him while your mind goes droopy at the sight of his lips moving. “You can either go to your new life or listen. Are you gonna listen?”
You nod your head.
“Good. I’m gonna pull my hand away now and you won’t spit at my face again. Promise?”
You nod hesitantly.
“Good. I trust your word.”
He pulls his hand away, keeping his arm around you. It lies exactly over your tits, rubbing against your nipples. You know for a fact that he is able to feel it. You curl your fingers, trying so hard not to get affected by his closeness. Or to make a sound for that matter.
“I said this stuff to you because I wanna make it right between us. Your brother fucked up, but what Urquard did in retaliation is crazy and what father allowed is insane. If you want me to, I won’t bring you to him.” 
“What? But…your father promised.”
“I don’t care. It’s barbaric that omega trading is still a thing. You are right, you are people not cattle.” 
“If he finds out that you refuse, he will disown you.”
“I have a plan for that.”
“Urquard will kill you.”
“That’s why I have a plan.”
“What plan?” 
“It’s gonna sound insane.”
“Just tell me please. I don’t wanna be sold.” 
“The only way I can free you of this pact is if you get marked by another alpha. You’re unclaimed right now, but if you were to be marked by an alpha other than Urquard’s son, then the pact would be invalid.”
“What do you mean with marked?”
He hesitates.
“Tell me.” 
“An alpha would have to put his dick into you.”
“So assault? I would have to be assaulted?”
“Not if you wanted it.”
“Huh?”
“Not if it’s with someone you trust. Someone who’s gonna be careful and gentle and who’s gonna make it nice for you.”
“And who should that be? Last time I checked, I’m not really friends with many…”
Your eyes meet Jungkook’s. He seems shy all of a sudden.
“Oh.” 
You gasp for air. 
“Oh.”
“I know it’s crazy. I thought of other ways. I’ve been plotting ever since we left town. That’s why I volunteered. To give us time, to give me time to think of something. I thought of lots of stuff, but they all ended in hypothetical death or enslavement of our pack. The only peaceful option was this.”
“You volunteered to bring me?” 
He nods his head, “anyone else would have been too scared of or too loyal to my dad. I know you’re scared, but I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.” 
“And you thought of this?” 
“It’s the only way. We kill Urquard and his sons? Their pack comes after us. We run away? Their pack is gonna punish our pack. We kill everyone? Impossible we’d die and destine our pack to agony. It’s only death and pain u-unless you get marked by an alpha.”
“But I would have to be with you afterwards.”
“Only if you want to. We can pretend, make everyone think that it’s real. You wouldn’t have to be with me ever again.” 
“Oh my god, this is insane.”
“I know. I’m sorry. The choice is yours. I promise.”
You study his face. You are still trapped under him, sharing heat. Skin against skin. arm against chest and cock against hip. He is semi hard by now, smearing slick on your skin. The fact that he is affected by this - by you - doesn’t make it easier to stay calm. You are glad for his leg over yours because it forces your legs to be closed and therefore hide the masses of slick having accumulated by now. His hair is still damp, hanging into his face messily. His fingers feel so strong and protective around your wrists. You swear that each time he breathes out and you inhale it, you feel high. You are so attracted to him right now. 
Truth be told, you always thought that he was handsome beyond comparison. He has a mesmerizing aura and a captivating smile. His physique is your dream physique and his face often caught your attention in a crowd. You were utterly and insanely attracted to him which made your hatred for him grow deeper. He betrayed you, but he is still haunting your thoughts. It was unbearable until right now. 
“I’m scared. I never did it with an alpha before”, you confess, suddenly feeling so vulnerable.
And Jungkook takes that vulnerability, cradling it in his safe palm just as he cradles your cheek the same way. His eyes softened, his voice did too.
“Don’t be scared. I’ll be gentle. I promise”, he almost whispers the words, tracing your brow and temple between cradling your cheek. 
“I don’t know you like that.”
“Neither do I you. It’s gonna be a one time thing.” 
“I’m scared. I’ve been scared ever since all of this started.”
“Don’t be. I’m here. I won’t let them touch you.”
“But you’ll touch me?” you ask in a whisper, lifting the inner corners of your brows.
Jungkook has a hard time staying calm when you look at him with such puppy eyes. 
“If you let me, I will.” 
You exhale shakily, squirming under him. 
“I’m scared.” 
He lets go of your wrists to cradle your other cheek. You lean into the touch, barely wanting to keep your eyes open. Your arms stay in their submissive position naturally. 
“Just the tip. That’s all it takes. Just the tip for a few seconds so you take on my scent and then it’ll be over”, he says.
“Just the tip?” 
“Yes, just the tip. Nothing more. I promise.”
You are going to do something which you thought never to do. But if it saves your life, you would do anything. Even something as crazy as allow Jungkook to stick his tip into you.
“Okay. Just the tip.” 
Jungkook exhales shakily, moving closer for a kiss like it was instinct before he stops himself. You shudder, craving nothing more than what he denies both of you. 
“We shouldn’t be doing this”, he breathes.
“What?” 
“Kiss.” He lets the word dance over your lips, running his thumb under your lips as his eyes stare. “We shouldn’t.” 
“No, we shouldn’t”, you whimper, chasing him. 
Moments of craving and yearning where both of you try so hard to kiss the other. But you shouldn’t. Just the tip, nothing more.
“Roll to your side, please”, Jungkook breaks the electric silence, guiding you with his hand on your shoulder until your back faces his chest. 
You can see the fire and the rest of the shed like this, but not Jungkook.
“Why like this?” 
“If I look at your face, I’ll stick it in completely. I can’t do this to you.” 
“Oh.”
Jungkook closes the distance, connecting his hand with your hip. He guides it up your body, travelling along your waist and arm. His touch leaves goosebumps where it goes. His palm is slightly calloused from fighting but incredibly tender in how it touches you. You feel yourself breathe heavier and heavier the longer he touches you.
He reaches your shoulder, closing the last of the distance by lowering his lips to your back.
“Ah”, you let out quietly, tensing up. Your eyes are widened comically big, staring into the bright flames. He is kissing your naked skin. What the fuck. 
Jungkook’s eyes are closed in contrast. His head is foggy, but he tries to fight these feelings. You smell so good that it is very difficult to do so. 
His hand is still on your shoulder at first but moves to your waist when he guides his kisses to said shoulder. 
“Oh god”, you whisper, sighing afterwards. 
Jungkook feels droopy from the sound, digging his fingers into the softness of your side. He shouldn’t be doing this. Just the tip. That’s what he said. And yet here he is, kissing your soft skin as if it was his right to do so. He shouldn’t be doing this, but he can’t stop. He traces and holds your side and stomach, telling himself that he only does it to relax you. He kisses every inch of your exposed back and shoulder, telling himself that he only does it to calm you down. When in truth he does all of this because he wants to make it nice for you. And maybe he wants to be a source of tenderness after what you had to go through. 
Lies. These are still lies. He fucking does this because he wants to. He fucking does it because he wants to know how it is to touch you. Taehyung talked when you and he were high school sweethearts. Oh, Taehyung talked and Jungkook had to listen and secretly seethe with jealousy. It should be him, he thought back then, he would know how to treat you right.
You had no idea of these thoughts. You still haven’t as you lie here next to the warm fire while Jungkook touches you oh so carefully. You don’t know if you’re allowed to close your eyes. Just the tip, you agreed on. Can you close your eyes for that? 
But it feels so good. His lips are soft, while his piercings are hard in contrast. His touch is currently dancing up the middle of your torso slowly. You fight the shivers wanting to run through you. 
You lose the fight a moment later when he pulls you against his strong chest and kisses your neck. 
You whimper, trembling like crazy. You arch into him, craning your neck to give him more of it. Your heart skips beats under his lips. Jungkook grips the blanket to stop his hand from cradling your tits. 
“Fuck, I shouldn’t be doing this”, he presses out under his breath, mouthing at your neck hungrily. “I shouldn’t….do…this.” 
He drags his lips to your jawline and sucks. Your eyes close.
You mewl, rolling your hips back into him. His cock slides between your legs, rubbing between your puffy folds. He trembles in shock, gripping your hip to stop your wiggles. 
“Don’t do this. Don’t act like this when it is supposed to mean nothing.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t help it.”
“Mhhm I know. You can’t, but I can. I won’t do it again, I’m sorry.” 
You swallow your begs, not wanting to appear weak or desperate. It is so difficult not to beg when you have his cock between your legs. Hugged by your folds and exchanging slick. He feels hot and his veins are pulsing desperately. You have never before felt so stupidly horny than you do right now. Quite frankly, he might be forcing you to go into impromptu heat if he keeps being like this. 
“Just the tip, yeah? Just the tip”, he whispers as he puts his arm under your head so you have something comfortable to rest on. You practically melt into him, biting back tears. You are being held and it feels so good. So safe and warm. 
He kisses your neck and cheek, whispering his words.
“Are you comfortable? Are you ready?”
“Yeah”, you sigh, pushing your hips back. 
Jungkook slides his other hand between your bodies, using it to align his cock with your dripping entrance. Just the tip, he reminds himself, nothing more. Don’t be greedy, keep calm. This doesn’t mean anything. 
“Last chance”, he says, wanting to stall time so he can calm down. 
“I trust you.”
Jungkook bites back his moan, having to take a deep breath before he can act. You are messing him up without knowing. With a racing pulse, he applies pressure on your puffy cunt and slips inside. 
You squeak, shaking against your will. You convulse around him, gasping repeatedly. He went in so easily, despite his size. 
Jungkook growls, “fuck, holy fuck”, he gets out and bruises your hip as he grips it for support. It takes everything inside him not to push it all the way in. Jungkook genuinely has a hard time not to moan. You are so wet.
Judging from your tremors and the way you fight for air, it is just as difficult for you.
“Only a few more second”, he forces his voice to sound as normal as possible. He wants to fuck you, but knows that he shouldn’t.
“Mh-hm”, you squeak out, nodding your head. You want him to fuck you. 
Jungkook closes his hand to a fist, growing his claws to dig them into his own palm. The pain keeps him from acting up. He wouldn’t be able to handle it otherwise. 
Jungkook always hoped that he would marry you one day. There it is. It’s out there. Jungkook had feelings for you for decades. In his dreams, you marry him and he can spend the rest of his days spoiling you rotten. He would be your protector against any danger, your best friend to laugh with, your remedy for your heats and the lover you can be yourself with. 
Being with you like this is everything he ever wished for. You are so soft and warm around him, your slick is so wet. He knows that, deeper inside, it would be so much more. You'd be so warm, so soft. Jungkook gulps down his desire for more, otherwise he would do things he would regret.
“I think it should be good”, he presses out. He can’t do it anymore. One more second and he would push in all the way. He can’t do this to you. You trust him and he can’t abuse this trust. 
“Really?”
You turn your head, looking up at him in droopy devotion. Jungkook whimpers, instantly cradling your cheek. He furrows his brows, throbbing inside you. He fights the urge to kiss you, to rest his forehead against yours, to bury himself deep inside you.
“Please don’t look at me.”
“Jungkook.” 
His name hasn’t rolled off your tongue ever since he left you at the playground. It almost brings tears to his eyes, forcing his arm around you tighter.
“I can’t do this”, he drops his forehead against yours “I think I remembered that I need to put in all of it. It’s not gonna work otherwise.” 
He is lying, because he can’t accept the truth yet. That he is selfish and totally addicted to you. 
“Please do.” 
“No. No we shouldn’t be doing this”, he fights it still, shaking his head which makes his nose rub against yours. 
“Please”, your words tickle his lips, “save me. Whatever it takes, save me.”
“Urgh”, he growls through gritted teeth. 
“Please.” 
Jungkook lifts his head. He wants to look into your eyes as he does it. He wants to see the utter bliss in your eyes as he turns your relationship status from ex childhood best friends to two adults reunited.  
He rolls his hips, feeding your warmth his length inch by inch. Your brows furrow and lift, your lids flutter, your mouth falls open. 
“A-ah”, you squeak out.
“Shhh, it’s okay. I’m here. I’m all here”, he whispers. He closes his arm around you, cradling you in a gentle headlock. 
You close your fingers around his lower arm, spilling tears from your eyes. 
“Does it hurt?” 
You shake your head. 
“But?” 
“So…filled out. So big.”
“I know. I’m big, but you’re taking me so well.”
You whimper. Jungkook feels so insanely protective over you right now. 
“Yes, you are. Taking me so well”, he insists, brushing the back of his hand down your cheek. 
Jungkook continues until he bottoms out. He shudders, choking down a whimper. You feel so good. He never ever felt like this before. It feels like coming home which is insane because he was never with you like this. 
“___”, your name comes out of him against his will. 
“Jungkook”, you answer him, clenching around him.  
“Stay still, please.” 
“Okay”, you whimper, looking at his lips. 
The pull is magnetic. Jungkook draws closer with parted lips, you meet him with parted lips. Once you kiss, it will be over for you and him. There will be no coming back from this. 
“No”, he croaks, putting his hand over your mouth. The headlock tightens like this, giving you such a sense of being protected that your walls clench against your will. 
“We shouldn’t kiss. Never”, he rasps weakly, mouthing at his own hand right where your lips lie beneath. You close your eyes, trying to move your lips under his hand. It is starting to feel cruel to be denied his kiss. Especially when memories of your past come back to you. 
You remember that it was a group of eight kids and you were doing “dares” to see who is the coolest. Taehyung was dared to prank call his mom and he actually did. He pretended to be a grown up insurance clerk and once he hung up, you really thought that he managed to prank his mom (he didn’t hide his phone number and had a childlike voice). Jimin, another friend, was dared to climb a tree. Which he did and he was sooo cool for it. They were silly, childish dares who did no harm but made you feel so cool. Then it came to you and you were dared to kiss Jungkook. Which you did. In a childlike, innocent way but which made you and him feel so grown up for a moment.
The memory is haunting you right now, making you want to redo it in a grown up, mature way. You open your eyes, meeting Jungkook’s gaze. Judging from the foggy desperation in them, he is haunted by the same memory. 
“Please get out of my head”, he gets out.
You whimper his name behind his hand. Jungkook furrows his brows, grinding his teeth.
“No please. Stop it”, he croaks, squeezing his eyes shut.
You want to fight it as well, of course you do. You swore to hate him forever and now you want nothing else than his kiss. You want to fight it, but your hands move against your will. They rest themselves over Jungkook’s hand and try to dig between your face and his palm.
He growls, huffing out air. The only thing keeping your hips from joining the impossible fight is his hand on it. Shit, now he is concentrating on down below. Your puffy walls around him, so soft and warm. Being inside you, Jungkook swears he will never be cold again. Or maybe he will be, maybe he will never find warmth again once this stops, once he has to slip out and pretend that it meant nothing.
What will happen afterwards? He is so needy and he knows that you are too. What will happen? Are you going to lie next to each other, wet and needy and force your bodies to calm down? Or maybe he will need to excuse himself to outside, fuck his own fist as the loud thunder masks his desperate moans while inside the shed you most definitely would touch yourself as well?
Jungkook was so lost in his haunted thoughts that he realises too late that you managed to tug his hand away. Your lips brush his’. 
Jungkook moans from the bottom of his heart, going in for more at first. He even rolls his hips into you. Like instinct. Like it is meant to happen. 
“No”, he pushes you away, slips out, breaks the moment. “We shouldn’t be doing this. Not that far.”
You sob, shrinking into yourself. 
“Please”, you whimper your words, staring at him with desperate, sad eyes. You lift your hips, begging him silently.
“I won’t be able to stop if I do it again. I can’t do this to you.” 
“Please”, you beg.
“Do you even know what an alpha does when he fucks? I won’t be able to stop until I bred you. I-I’ll knot you and, and you won’t be able to get me out until I’m soft again.” 
“I know.” 
“This could take hours. You will feel out of control and vulnerable.” 
“You said that you will protect me. That I-I’m safe with you.” 
“___”, he chokes out and crawls to you. He picks you up in his strong arms, holding you against his chest. His heart is racing like crazy against your back. “Stop me. I beg you. I can’t pretend any longer that this means nothing to me. You have to stop this.”
You reach up and twist his hair, pulling him down to you. 
“We shouldn’t-” 
You silence him with a kiss. 
Jungkook trembles, resting his weight against you as the kiss renders his body useless for a moment. You are kissing him. You stopped this stupid farce for you and him. You sealed your fates. Jungkook knows that it won’t be the same after tonight. He will never fucking give you up. 
He breaks the kiss, but stay close.
“You shouldn’t have done this.”
“Please. More.”
“Are you even hearing me?” he hisses.
“Yes. Please, more.” 
“Fuck, we really shouldn’t, but maybe I…I have to move it a few times? To really mark you?” 
“Yes, sounds good, mark me please. I don’t wanna be sold.” 
“I-I’ll do it just for that. To make sure.” 
“Yes. Okay”, you sigh and melt into him, lifting your leg. 
Jungkook slides his hand under it instantly.
“Let me do it. Relax.” 
You let your muscles relax, allowing him to carry your leg’s weight. He does it so easily, tracing your hairline with his fingertips as he looks down at you. He moves his hips so his cock would slip between your folds, working you up to what was coming by grinding back and forth. He really drags out the movements, sending trembles through your legs each time his thick tip rubs your swollen clit. 
He exhales shakily, whispering his thoughts.
“You’re so wet. I have never felt slick so warm and, and wet before.” 
You look up at him with shy, nervous puppy eyes, making him want to protect you forever. 
“Is it bad?” 
“No, fuck no”, he puts his arm around your chest, pulling you up to him until he can rest his forehead against yours. “It’s perfect, baby.” 
“Baby?” 
“I…” he drops you, hips stilling in shock. He doesn’t know what to say. Anything he could say feels like too little of an apology. 
You however increase the lethalness of your puppy eyes, reaching down to try and move his hips again. 
“Please. More.” 
“We’re only doing this to save you, right?” He asks, picking up a rhythm again. It is the same as before but way more arousing because he purposefully makes sure that his tip slips into you every now and then. He starts off with just a little poke, increasing the inches more and more. But it stays just the tip, for now, don’t be mistaken. If he slips inside it should happen accidentally. He likes to tell himself if it happens like this, it will mean that it wasn’t his fault. 
“Yes, only to save me” you lull your words, getting droopier and droopier. Each time he has his tip inside you, it feels so good. Before he slips out and you feel sad, until of course he drags his cock over your clit instead.  
You can’t do this for long anymore and Jungkook seems to share your feelings. The tip he buries in you starts to go way past your entrance and it seems to stay longer inside. His golden eyes never break contact, his fingers rub your arm as he holds you so close. 
He slips into you again. So deep. 
“Mhhhhm” he lets out in a rumble, furrowing his brows. 
You whimper, lifting your brows. 
Deeper. Deeper. Deeper. He won’t be able to escape like this. 
Deeper.
He bottoms out. 
You moan, eyelids fluttering and lips chasing his kiss. 
He shakes his head, talking as he falls into the kiss.
“We really shouldn’t be doing this.”
You kiss and Jungkook’s cock doesn’t leave you again. It stays buried deep inside you, reshaping your walls as his hips move. Slowly for now, daring not to be too rough with you. Because being rough makes it real. Maybe if he keeps his movements tiny enough, it will still count as being nothing of importance. 
Because that’s what this is, right? Something that doesn’t mean anything, something that won’t change who you and he are. This is what those needy, hungry tongue kisses mean, this is what the desperate touches mean, this is what the exchanging of warm slick means. Nothing. Because if those things meant something, it would force Jungkook to admit that he is doing This for himself. Of course he does it to save you, but if it meant something, he would have to admit that he is also doing this for himself. 
But it doesn’t mean anything, right? Right?
You break the kiss for air, looking up at him submissively and droopy.
“It feels so good”, you whisper.
“Close your eyes, please.” 
You obey and Jungkook has to come to the realisation that it makes no difference. This fucking means something. Holy fuck, he is done for. 
“Maybe I have to make you cum?”
“What?” you ask, eyes still closed. 
“I think I need to make you cum once. Then you’ll be marked.”
“Please do. I trust you.” 
Trust. He thought that he would never earn it again and yet here he is. With your weakened, trembling body in his hold as you trust him to take good care of you. 
“Mhhm shit”, he presses out, biting down on his own tongue to calm himself. Be tender with her, he thinks, you swore to be a gentle alpha so fucking get it together.
He moves you into another position, draping your leg over his hip so you wouldn’t have to use your muscles. You are so open and spread like this, allowing his big cock entrance. He slides his hand to your clit and takes it between his thumb and middle finger to massage it. 
“A-ha”, you let out, arching your back and lifting your hips.
“Ssssh, relax. I’m here.”
“Please, deeper.” 
Jungkook buries his cock deep inside you and stays there, circling his hips. He is so big and long that he stimulates both your g-spot and your cervix. He is so gentle that it doesn’t hurt. It just feels so good that your fangs grow against your will and you leak masses of new slick.
“Like this? Am I making it nice for you?”
“So nice”, you mewl, nodding your head vigorously. 
Jungkook is gazing at you as it happens. He watches every change of expression on your face, fighting the urge to call you beautiful. Because that’s what you are. Beautiful. You would deserve to know but he is scared of the consequences. It would mean the fluttering of his heart is real.
“Is so nice”, you sigh, writhing happily. It breaks him.
“You’re beautiful”, he says, moaning softly when you tighten and arch your back. So you liked it. His cock throbs inside you, leaking into you needily. “Yeah that’s right, you’re beautiful. So fucking beautiful. Taking me so well, feeling so good on my cock.”
“Ah, aaaah”, your moans are so loud, your pussy so fucking wet and your clit so swollen. 
Jungkook fucks you gently, massaging your spot of pleasure with his long, skilled fingers. He can feel your heartbeat in your back, as much as he can feel you rub against his nipples. 
The blanket over your bodies is so hot, making you and him sweat wherever you are touching. He can’t deny it anymore that this is real, that this means something. This means fucking everything to him.
“You’re such a good omega, taking me so well.”
“You’re making me cum”, you croak, grasping his arm for support, “please, can I cum?” 
“Yes, baby. You can. Cum for me.” 
“Jungkook”, you gasp, ripping your eyes open to stare in shock as his gentle touches bring you over the edge.
Your eyes flicker golden, you moan silently with an open mouth. 
“That’s it, cum for your alpha. Let me mark you, that’s it.” 
He has a hard time saying these words to you. His thoughts are running wild. This is the face you make when you have an orgasm. Never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined this to be a face he gets to see. And it’s so beautiful that he treads the moment your high stops and he has to pull out. He doesn’t want to pull out. He needs more of you. He needs you like fucking crazy.
“More please”, and then your beg releases him. You are down from your high, yet still so hungry for more. You feel so fulfilled with him that you don’t want this to stop. 
“What?” he croaks.
“More please, more.”
“If I do this, I won’t stop until I cum too.” 
“I know.” 
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe I have to cum inside you to mark you?” 
“Yeah, maybe.” 
The pretend continues. The fucking charades that this is only to save you from your fate, that you and he aren’t doing this because it feels so good to both of you. 
“Please Jungkook, fuck me properly.”
“Are you sure?” he almost squeaks the words because he has such a hard time controlling his urges. 
“Yes. Please.”
“Holy fuck. ___ urgh.”
Your needy beg does the rest. His animalistic instincts take over.
Jungkook growls, grabbing you roughly to flip you onto your stomach and therefore pin you down. He straddles you from behind. His right hand slips to the back of your head, his left hand has a possessive grip on your hip. His legs cage in your legs, keeping them squeezed together as he drills his thick cock into your pussy. You are so tight like this, jerking him off in such a maddening way. 
You scream up as you didn’t expect him to take on such a punishing pace instantly, but you aren’t complaining. It feels so good to take him. He fucks you so well. His cock is so filling, making you feel whole. 
“I’m not holding back now. For you, just for you. Is this good for you? Do you like this?”, he growls through gritted fangs, shifting his eyes between your face and his cock.
“Yeaa”, you sob, clawing at the ground helplessly. You were aware that Jungkook has been an adult for years, but this is still changing how you see him. Whenever you thought of him, you saw that twelve year old boy calling you immature for playing. That boy is gone as if he never existed. Jungkook is a fucking adult and he is rewriting the image in your mind one heavy stroke at a time.
“You should have never seen me like this. Fuck, this shouldn’t happen”, Jungkook spits, high on your body. He is embarrassed by his actions, but can’t stop them. “But I can’t stop. Holy fuck, I need you so fucking bad.” He needs to fuck you. You are so small and weak right now, so goddamn vulnerable. Once so unclaimed until he took you.
You are his. 
Jungkook growls, pinning you harder into the ground. 
You are his. 
You reach behind yourself because his hand on your head hurts. He grabs your wrist instantly, using it to pin your arm against your back. You wail up, kicking the ground as best as possible as you writhe in your imprisonment. 
“I’m sorry. You shouldn’t see me like this. Not you. I’m sorry.” 
He apologises, knowing that he won’t be able to stop until you are claimed. The thought makes him crazy. He is claiming you. The girl who was his first kiss, his best friend who always came to him when she needed help, the woman who counts on him to protect her from her fate and the wife he always hoped to have one day. And he is claiming her. He is marking her, making you his for anyone to smell.
Jungkook drills you harder. He pulls out all the way to his tip just to thrust into you sloppily. He does it over and over again, reminding your dripping pussy of his size with each possessive thrust. 
And you take it with grateful sobs, existing only for him right now. You would never recover if he stopped right now. You need him to finish what he started even if it ruins you in the process. 
“We really shouldn’t be doing this, fuck, this shouldn’t happen”, Jungkook gets out, gawking at where he buries himself in you. 
Your slick is slowly taking on a milky colour from the intense friction. It sticks to his veiny shaft and his dark pubes, smearing all over your ass and his thighs as well.
If this shouldn’t happen, why does it feel so good? If this shouldn’t happen, why does it look so hot? If this shouldn’t happen, why does he not want to stop? 
Jungkook scrunches his face in anger. He lets go of your arm so he can grip your hips with both hands. He pulls them up until you are kneeling. Your face is still buried in the ground, your back is arched.
You shake and convulse instantly, sobbing in embarrassment because the open position of your legs forces your slick to run out of you. 
“Holy fuck”, he gets out, staring at it with blown out pupils, “holy fuck, ___.” 
“I’m sorry, please don’t judge me”, you beg, trying so hard to keep it inside with clenches around his cock.
“Never. Holy fuck, I could never.”
“I’m so embarrassed.”
“Don’t be. Relax, baby. Don’t fight it”, he says, knowing that you and he shouldn’t be doing this. 
You obey instinctively. You relax around him, releasing the slick you so desperately wanted to hide from him. It begins squirting out of you messily and audibly, marking him yours.
“Yes”, he growls and begins pulling your hips onto his cock possessively, thrusting into you at the same time. He does it with one hand because the other he slips between your legs to pinch your clit. Gently of course, keeping her between two fingers to massage her in circular motions.
“Let me help you.” 
You wail and shake, releasing more and more of your pretty slick. It runs down your thighs, covers his legs, smears all over your ass and his stomach.  
“Relax, that’s it. My pretty omega shouldn’t keep it inside. It’s not good for you.” 
“Jungkook, I can’t do this”, you sob.
“I know. We can’t do this, we never should have.”
“No”, you wail, “no. I have to cum again.”
“Whenever you want to. Your alpha’s right here, baby.” 
“Jungkook!” you scream, breaking apart as if you never orgasmed before. It feels so good.
“Holy fuck baby, ah!” Jungkook yelps, hips stuttering in shock, “you feel so good, what the fuck ah! Ah! I can’t control myself. Baby!” 
Jungkook growls and lays himself over you. He holds you up with one hand around you, biting down on your shoulder as his body breaks. You sob from the pain of the bite, loving every second of it. 
And then it hits you. 
His seed.
His thick, hot seed.
It shoots out of him with such strength that you feel punched in the gut. The effect is instant. You lose control over yourself. Quite literally, you lose control. You can still talk, using it to scream his name as you orgasm in a way you have never experienced before. 
The first one was intense but familiar. This right now? You didn’t even know that your body could feel this way. It is truly, seriously, religious. It is as if you finally found your purpose in life. And in a sense you did. You found your alpha. He finally claimed you properly. You are his’. You aren’t unclaimed anymore. Nobody ever educated on this, so you have no idea that these religious, soul fulfilling feelings mean that you changed forever, but you don’t mind right now. You are just riding on these feelings, screaming his name and milking him dry. 
Jungkook whimpers. He truly, honestly whimpers from the bottom of his heart, collapsing on top of you. He knocks you into the ground like that, burying you under his weight but he couldn’t stop it from happening. 
He never experienced this feeling either. He had sex with people, but it never felt like This before. He orgasmed in them but it never felt like this. It feels as if his seed finally has purpose. That’s how it feels. Like his efforts and all the rutting he is doing has fucking purpose. 
And then it happens. Something that he was only told could happen to him, finally happens to him. His knot swells. He actually fucking grows a knot and has to writhe on top of you, burying his nose deep in your hair as he sobs your name. 
You sob as well, insides suddenly feeling like bursting. His knot is so big and thick that it should feel like an intruder but it doesn’t. It feels like the best drug ever. You didn’t even know that you could stretch this far. The amount of stimulation it gives you as it rubs against your walls is otherworldly, making you chase one orgasm after the other.
“I don’t know what’s happening to me. Ah! ___!” Jungkook yelps, having to orgasm again as your tight walls stimulate his knot. The amount of sensitivity he feels on it is insane. 
His hands slide together with yours, holding them tightly as he pins them into the ground. His tears fall into your hair, your own tears soak the blanket. 
“I can’t stop”, you get out, shaking in fear, “I can’t stop cumming!”
“Me neither.”
“I’m scared. I’m so scared”, you sob, riding on the unfamiliar, scary sensations.
“Don’t be scared, I’m here. I’m here”, he talks you through it, shaking beyond saving.
You aren’t even moving much. There are no thrusts, no sloppy wiggles. Just and you and him, actually stuck together because of his knot while he pumps one cumshot after the other into you. There is no movement and yet it feels better than the most passionate rutting session you each had. No movement and yet you are fulfilled beyond comparison. Is this how it feels to find your mate? Is this what it is? 
Did “we shouldn’t be doing this” turn into the finding of your other half? Was “we shouldn’t be doing this” fate’s way of protecting you from what will happen once you gave in? Or was there ever a “we shouldn’t be doing this” strong enough that could have prevented you from doing this?
Whatever it might be, it is too late to think about the what ifs now. The reality is that you and he can’t stop climaxing, lost in the most addicting and intense pleasure you and he ever found yourselves in. It is never ending. When he climaxes, you have to too which sets him off again, triggering your need to as well. It is a vicious, never ending, orgasmic cycle.
“This feels so good”, he croaks out, writhing on top of you, “does it feel-” 
“Yes! Yes! Oh god please Kook not again. Kook!”
“Kook”, Jungkook repeats the nickname in a whimper, curling his toes as another orgasm hits him as well. He never thought to hear this name from you again. He can’t handle it any other way than filling you with more of him. 
There is so much of him inside you by now, having no way to escape because of his knot that your body reacts in the only way it knows how to survive. It opens up for his seed to go deeper. It trickles into the deepest parts of your sex organs, warming you from the inside out. It is like he is alive inside you, feeding you with the strongest drug you ever took. You think that you black out for a moment. You are still aware of what is happening to you, but it is hidden behind a thick layer of blurriness. 
“Eh”, you let out, falling into the darkness gladly. It feels so good to do. There is something because you are aware of your orgasm, but there is also nothing. It is as if you are standing next to your body, watching it shake and tremble as he makes a home inside you.
And then there is nothing. Truly nothing. No more orgasmic pleasure, no more watching yourself. Just darkness.
“___? Hey, ___? Holy fuck, what’s wrong with you? ___, open your eyes please”, Jungkook’s distraught voice comes closer and closer, his hand on your face becomes clearer and clearer, “please ___, open your eyes, please. Oh god, what have I done? I should never have done this. I- Oh god ___ please, I’m sorry. Wake up, please.”
He shakes your head gently. It brings you back to reality. Your body regains the ability to feel. 
“Jungkook”, you whimper, opening your eyes. You writhe instantly, throbbing around his knot happily.
“___ hey. Holy fuck, thank god. Hey”, he says, dropping his forehead against your temple and kissing the side of your face desperately, “I’m so glad that you’re back. I thought that I killed you.”
“No, just made me black out.” 
“Why? Does it hurt? Are you in lots of pain?” 
“No, just haven’t felt so good before. Ever. Kook, I”, you suddenly have to whimper your words, “I feel your cum inside my uterus. It’s so warm and alive and….right.”
“It is?” He whimpers as well, feeling weakened in emotion.
You nod your head. Jungkook sobs quietly, using the hold he has on your hand to guide your arm under your body and against your chest. Like this, he rolls your bodies to their sides, instantly cradling you against his chest while his trembling lips kiss any part of you that he can reach.
Your face, your neck, your shoulder, your arm, your back and the bite mark he left, your face again. Over and over he kisses each inch of you, whispering your name every now and then as if he is trying to make sure that he remembers who made him feel like this. As if he is trying to make his brain memorise who it was who made him experience his first knot.
He is still swollen, keeping everything inside you safely. It is still so intense, but suddenly it feels more emotionally intense than physically. Enough time must have passed for the fire to reduce the logs by lot. And all of a sudden you and he don’t feel the uncontrollable need to orgasm anymore. You still want to be close, moving your hips in emotionally needy wiggles in hopes of keeping his knot alive for as long as possible, but it is not to chase another orgasm. You want this to last because it feels so safe. 
“I don’t know what’s happening to me. I don’t want this to end”, Jungkook confesses, holding you protectively.
“Me neither. I feel so safe like this.”
“Holy fuck, ___. What did we do?” he presses out, kissing your cheek over and over again.
“I don’t know.”
“I never knotted before. I never felt like this. Holy fuck, ___.” 
“What is gonna happen to us now?”
“I don’t know. All I know is that I can’t let you go again. Ever. I don’t wanna fucking share you. Never. I’m trying so hard not to tell you that you’re mine ‘cause I promised you that this would never happen again.”
“Please don’t.”
“What?”
You turn your head, leaning deeper into his embrace. Like this, you feel his racing heart against your shoulder and you are entirely protected in his arms. His knotted cock throbs inside you as your eyes meet. The same playful, gentle boy of the past looks back at you, except that his once boyish features are mature and aged up. A gentle, adoring man stares back at you and you can’t seem to find your way out of his galaxy eyes. 
“Please don’t promise me that this won’t happen again.” You cradle his cheek. “Don’t hold back on telling me that I’m yours.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying. You’re high from my cum, these aren’t your real feelings.”
“Why shouldn’t they be?” 
“___, we-”
You put your thumb on his lips. 
“We shouldn’t have done this, I know. You kept telling me as we kept doing this.” 
Jungkook gives up in a sigh, having to chuckle afterwards. You giggle, cupping his cheek again.
“Just the tip. That’s what we agreed on. Just the tip”, he says.
You clench around his knot, touching your bloated stomach. You instantly guide his hand to it, wanting him to feel what he did to you. He purrs deeply, biting down on his lower lip. You grin goofily.
“Just the tip indeed.”
He laughs softly. You snicker and stub his nose with your own. 
“This is the messiest and deepest tip I have ever given”, he jokes, making you laugh. 
“Oh god, this was funny.”
“Mhm, I’m pretty funny”, he says and nuzzles his nose into your neck to tickle you gently.
You squeak and giggle, feeling happy beyond comparison. Jungkook ends his loving attack with kisses to your ear. 
You sigh, melting into the affection. You and he lace fingers, using the position to melt closer. 
Your droopy eyes stare into the flames while Jungkook relaxes you with soft kisses all over your neck, shoulder and back. 
The thunderstorm stopped outside. It is already a little brighter. Fuck, so you were really trapped in this orgasmic state for a few hours. It felt as if so little time passed as it was happening. 
“What is gonna happen now?” you whisper.
“Now? We’re gonna cuddle and I’ll be kissing you until you’re asleep.”
“I mean after that. Do we have to show Urquard that I’m claimed?”
“I guess. I haven’t thought that far into the future yet. But yes, he will probably want proof that you’re marked.”
“I’m scared. Do I have to get naked in front of him? And his pack? Will he put something in me to get a scent?”
“He can try if he wants to die.” Jungkook pulls you closer possessively. “You’re under my protection now. Okay? You won’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with and I’ll hunt down anyone who dares to overstep your boundaries. Even Urquard and his pack.” 
“Really?” 
“Yes, really. I promise you.”
You close your eyes, spilling tears.
“Thank you.” 
You never thought it possible to have your dreams fulfilled by Jungkook and yet here you are. You are being held and comforted by Jungkook and it feels like home. 
“Don’t thank me. You’re mine. My darling ___ to keep safe. You have my body to protect you and my heart to find a home in.” 
There is deep rooted honesty in his words, but you are suddenly too sleepy to ask him what he meant by them. There will still be another time. This wasn’t just a one time thing after all.
3K notes · View notes
psychoticfemmm · 2 months ago
Text
between two worlds
pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!reader
summary: Rafe steps out of his comfort zone to join the Pogues for a beach night.
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The beach was alive with the usual chaos that defined the Pogues. JJ was digging through a cooler for beer, Kie was setting up a makeshift bonfire, and Pope was arguing with John B over whose turn it was to collect firewood. You sat on a blanket, watching the sunset over the ocean, your heart racing as Rafe Cameron’s figure loomed in the distance.
“I can’t believe you invited him,” JJ said, shooting you a pointed look as he cracked open a beer. “This is sacred Pogue territory, Y/N.”
“He’s my boyfriend,” you said simply, brushing sand off your legs.
“Yeah, unfortunately,” JJ muttered under his breath.
Sarah shot him a look. “Give him a chance, JJ. If Y/N can handle his crazy ass, we can for one night.”
You turned to see Rafe walking toward you, his shoulders slightly tense, his hands shoved in his pockets. The evening light softened his features, but you could tell he was uneasy. He wasn’t exactly a welcome presence among the Pogues, and he knew it.
“You didn’t tell me it’d be this many people,” he murmured when he reached you, leaning down to kiss your temple.
“Rafe, it’s literally just them,” you teased, gesturing toward the group. “You’ll survive.”
He rolled his eyes but sat down next to you, his hand instinctively resting on your knee. The gesture didn’t go unnoticed.
JJ snorted. “Look at him. Acting like he belongs here.”
“JJ,” you warned.
Rafe tensed but didn’t rise to the bait, his thumb rubbing slow circles against your skin. “Nice to see you too, Maybank.”
“Alright, everybody chill,” Sarah interjected, sitting cross-legged on the blanket. She gave Rafe a small smile. “Thanks for coming, Rafe. Even though I know you’re out of your element.”
Rafe raised an eyebrow. “You could say that.”
“Just don’t kill the vibe,” JJ added, plopping down on the other side of you.
The tension was thick at first. Rafe sat quietly, his usual cocky demeanor dimmed in the face of the Pogues’ scrutiny. You felt the weight of his discomfort, and it made you squeeze his hand reassuringly. He looked at you, his blue eyes softening as if to say, I’m doing this for you.
As the night wore on, the tension began to ease. JJ’s antics and John B’s storytelling had everyone laughing, even Rafe cracking a smile here and there.
“Alright, I have to ask,” Kie said, looking directly at Rafe. “How does a Kook prince like you end up with a Pogue queen?”
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Kie—”
“No, it’s fine,” Rafe said, surprising you. He leaned back on his hands, glancing at you with a small smirk. “I guess I just like a challenge.”
JJ scoffed, but Kie rolled her eyes. “Seriously, though.”
Rafe’s expression softened as he looked at you. “She’s different. She doesn’t care about any of the crap I used to think mattered. She calls me out when I’m being an idiot, but she also makes me want to be better.”
The Pogues fell silent, exchanging surprised looks. Even JJ looked slightly less annoyed.
“She’s good at that,” Sarah said, smiling at you.
You felt your cheeks heat up, but before you could respond, JJ pointed at Rafe with his beer bottle. “Alright, Cameron, you’re scoring some points. But don’t think I’m not watching you.”
“Duly noted,” Rafe replied dryly, earning a laugh from John B.
As the night wound down, you and Rafe wandered a little farther down the beach, away from the firelight and the laughter of your friends. The ocean waves crashed gently against the shore, and the cool breeze tugged at your hair.
“See? That wasn’t so bad,” you said, bumping his shoulder playfully.
He huffed a laugh, wrapping an arm around your waist. “They hate me.”
“They don’t hate you,” you assured him. “They’re just…protective.”
He stopped walking, turning to face you. “And you’re worth protecting.”
You rolled your eyes, but the sincerity in his gaze made your heart skip. He stepped closer, brushing a strand of hair from your face.
“I mean it,” he said softly. “I know I don’t always fit into your world, but I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure I do. For you.”
Your breath hitched as his thumb traced your cheek, his touch warm and familiar. “Rafe…”
“I love you,” he murmured, his voice barely audible over the waves.
Before you could respond, he leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, as if he was trying to pour every unspoken word into it. His hands settled on your waist, pulling you closer, and you melted against him, the rest of the world fading away.
When you finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, a small smile playing on his lips.
“Alright,” you said, your voice teasing but soft. “You’re forgiven for being awkward.”
“Awkward?” he repeated, feigning offense. “I was charming.”
“You were stiff,” you corrected with a laugh.
He grinned, kissing you again, this time quicker but no less sweet. “You bring me around them enough, and I’ll charm them too.”
“Let’s not push it,” you teased, lacing your fingers with his as you started walking back toward the fire.
In the distance, you could hear JJ yelling, “Hey! No PDA where we can see it!”
Rafe groaned, but you just laughed, pulling him closer. He might not be a Pogue, but tonight, he’d proven he was yours—and that was more than enough.
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
2K notes · View notes
carnalcrows · 2 months ago
Text
BABYSITTER - THE SALESMAN
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pairing: the salesman x male reader
synopsis: When a broke college student takes a babysitting gig, he signs up for snack time and bedtime stories—but ends up with bloodstains, cryptic employers, and an unsettling crush on the kid’s disturbingly hot dad.
content warnings: 18+, bottom male reader, blackmailing, blood, anal, breeding, creampie, missionary, mating press, dubcon, mentions of kidnapping, too much plot
word count: 5.2k (good lord)
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It was a typical Wednesday afternoon when you found yourself perched in the corner of the campus café, a half-empty cup of cold coffee sweating onto the table beside your laptop. Bills, tuition, and the general weight of adulthood had a way of pressing down on your shoulders, leaving you in a constant state of mild panic. You scrolled through job listings with the desperation of someone clinging to a lifeboat.  
Barista? You had already been rejected twice due to your “lack of experience.”  
Retail? They wanted you available on weekends, which wasn’t feasible with your study schedule.  
Dog walker? Allergic to fur.  
The list grew more depressing as the minutes ticked by, until one particular post caught your attention:  
"Babysitter needed. Flexible hours. Payment upon services rendered. Serious applicants only."  
There was no company name, no attached image of a smiling family, not even a hint about the age of the child you’d be babysitting. The simplicity of it screamed sketchy, but the promise of payment dangled in front of you like a carrot on a stick. 
“Desperate times,” you muttered, clicking on the post.  
The application form was equally bare-bones, asking only for your name, availability, and a short paragraph about why you wanted the job. You quickly typed something generic about being responsible and good with kids, then hit send without much hope.  
To your surprise, you received a reply almost immediately.  
"You’re hired. Start tomorrow at 3 PM. Address: [Redacted]."  
You stared at the screen, bewildered. No interview? No background check? Either this was the world’s most desperate parent, or you were walking into a scam. A friend texted you moments later, asking if you’d found a job yet, and you decided to leave out the details when you replied, 
"Yep, starting tomorrow."  
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The afternoon sun was scorching as you made your way up the steps of the quaint suburban house. The place had a sort of storybook charm—a neat lawn, pastel shutters, and a small porch swing swaying lazily in the breeze. If it weren’t for the suspiciously vague job listing you’d answered, you might have thought you were walking into a feel-good rom-com instead of a potentially shady situation.  
You knocked on the door and waited. Seconds ticked by. You shifted awkwardly, glancing over your shoulder as if expecting hidden cameras. But just as you were about to knock again, the door flew open with surprising force, revealing a little girl standing barely taller than the doorknob.  
“Hi!” she exclaimed, her voice so cheerful it nearly gave you whiplash. “Are you the babysitter?”  
“Uh… yeah,” you replied, startled by the sheer intensity of her enthusiasm. “That’s me.”  
“I’m Su-an,” she said proudly, puffing out her chest. “Come in! I was just having a meeting with my council!”  
Before you could even ask what she meant, she grabbed your hand and tugged you inside. The house was warm and cozy, if a little cluttered, with toys scattered across the floor and crayon drawings taped haphazardly on the walls.  
---
“This is Mr. Snuggles,” Su-an announced, holding up a ragged teddy bear with one ear chewed off. “He’s the president of my council.”  
“Uh-huh,” you said, nodding solemnly. “And what does the council do?”  
“Important stuff,” she said, narrowing her eyes like she was letting you in on a state secret. “Like deciding who gets cookies after dinner. Also, they voted to make you the assistant.”  
You blinked. “I don’t remember running for office.”  
“Well, you didn’t,” she said matter-of-factly. “But Mr. Snuggles said you looked like you’d be good at it.”  
Before you could protest, she shoved the bear into your hands and pointed to a tiny table covered in a chaotic mix of crayons, plastic teacups, and a single half-eaten cookie.  
“Sit,” she ordered. “The council meeting is starting!”  
---
The rest of the afternoon unfolded in a whirlwind of nonsensical games and increasingly bizarre “council decisions.” At one point, you were ordered to wear a paper crown (which barely fit) and were dubbed the “Official Snack Prince.” Your royal duties included distributing Goldfish crackers and ensuring everyone—stuffed animals included—got an equal share.  
“You’re actually pretty good at this,” Su-an said, eyeing you critically as you handed Sir Fluffington his crackers. “Better than my last babysitter.”  
“Oh?” you asked, curious. “What happened to them?”  
“They couldn’t handle the council,” she said gravely.  
---
After the meeting adjourned, Su-an decided it was time to “train” you in the art of hide-and-seek. You played along, even though she kept hiding in the same spot: under the dining table, her giggles giving her away every single time.  
“Found you again!” you said, crouching down to peer under the table.  
She gasped, genuinely shocked. “How are you so good at this?!”  
“It’s a gift,” you deadpanned, earning another round of giggles.  
---
When hide-and-seek got old, she declared it was “dance party time.” She dragged you to the living room, where she plugged in her favorite playlist on an ancient speaker. The first song was a pop hit you vaguely recognized, and before you could even protest, she was already twirling around like a whirlwind.  
“Come on!” she yelled over the music.  
“I don’t dance,” you started, but she shot you a look so devastatingly adorable that you had no choice but to join in.  
What followed was ten minutes of the most ridiculous dancing of your life. Su-an moved like she was powered by pure chaos, flailing her arms and jumping around, while you attempted something resembling the robot. She laughed so hard she tripped over her own feet, and you had to catch her before she face-planted into the couch.  
---
As the day wore on, you found yourself genuinely enjoying her company. She was smart, funny, and had the kind of boundless energy that made you wonder if kids ran on caffeine instead of juice boxes.  
By the time bedtime rolled around, you were exhausted. Getting her into pajamas was an ordeal—she insisted she couldn’t sleep without her “lucky socks,” which turned out to be mismatched and buried at the bottom of her toy chest. When you finally tucked her in, she stared up at you with wide, sleepy eyes.  
“Will you come back tomorrow?” she asked, clutching Mr. Snuggles to her chest.  
“Yeah,” you said, smiling. “I’ll be here.”  
“Promise?”  
“Promise.”  
---
As you made your way back downstairs, you felt a surprising sense of accomplishment. Babysitting wasn’t what you’d imagined yourself doing, but something about Su-an’s infectious energy and genuine joy made it worth it.  
You tidied up the living room, stepping over plastic dinosaurs and rogue crayons, and couldn’t help but laugh to yourself. If every day was going to be like this, maybe this job wouldn’t be so bad after all.  
---
And so, your days with Su-an became a routine. Every afternoon, she greeted you at the door like an excited puppy, launching into a new scheme or game. One day, she decided you were a dragon and she was a brave knight. The next, you were her art teacher, helping her draw increasingly absurd animals like “dog-o-sauruses” and “cat-icorns.”  
One particularly memorable day, she tried to teach you how to braid her hair. It did not go well.  
“Why are there so many strands?!” you groaned, your fingers tangled in her hair.  
“It’s easy!” she said, giggling. “You just go over, under, over, under!”  
“You sound like a cryptic math teacher,” you muttered, earning another round of giggles.  
---
The days passed in a blur of laughter and chaos, and soon, you found yourself looking forward to your afternoons with Su-an. She made you forget about your stress, your bills, and your endless to-do list.  
Still, a question lingered in the back of your mind: where was her dad during all of this? But for now, you were content to let the mystery be. After all, it was hard to worry about much when you had a six-year-old demanding you be her “Royal Snack Advisor.”
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It was one of those rare evenings when the air felt just right—not too cold, not too warm, with a soft breeze that carried the faint smell of grass and distant barbecues. Su-an had begged to go to the park after dinner, and you’d caved, eager to get some fresh air and give her a chance to burn off her endless energy.
“Push me higher!” Su-an squealed as she swung back and forth, her legs pumping excitedly. You stood behind her, laughing as you gave the swing a gentle push.
“Higher, huh? What are you trying to do, touch the clouds?”
“Maybe!” she shouted, giggling as the swing reached its peak.
The park wasn’t crowded—just a few other families and joggers scattered around. It was peaceful, the kind of evening where you could almost forget the strange tension that sometimes hung around the house, the questions you tried not to ask about her father’s late-night comings and goings.
But the peace didn’t last.
As you helped Su-an off the swing and she dragged you toward the monkey bars, a commotion near the edge of the park caught your attention. At first, you thought it was just a group of people arguing—a not-uncommon sight in the city. But then you saw him.
Your heart stopped.
There, in the dim light of a flickering street lamp, was a man—the man. His tall frame was unmistakable, even in the shadows. He stood over a small group of disheveled, huddled figures, who you quickly realized were homeless people. A plastic bag lay torn at his feet, loaves of bread spilled across the ground.
He wasn’t just standing there. He was stepping on the bread.
Your breath caught as you watched him stomp down with deliberate, almost mechanical force, grinding the food into the dirt. The homeless group stared in silence, some in shock, others looking away as if too defeated to protest.
“Isn’t that Daddy?”
The innocent question cut through the haze of disbelief like a knife. You snapped your head down to look at Su-an, her wide eyes fixed on the scene with a mix of curiosity and confusion.
“No,” you said quickly, your voice sharper than you intended. “It’s not.”
“But—”
Before she could finish, you crouched down and gently placed your hands over her eyes. “Let’s go, Su-an. We’re leaving.”
“Why can’t I look? What’s wrong?” she whined, squirming in your grasp.
“Because it’s not safe,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady as you picked her up and started walking away, her protests muffled against your shoulder.
Your mind raced as you carried her toward the car. What had you just witnessed? That couldn’t have been him—could it? But the silhouette, the way he carried himself—it was all too familiar.
You buckled Su-an into her car seat, doing your best to distract her with promises of ice cream and cartoons when you got home. But even as she babbled happily about her favorite flavors, your hands trembled on the steering wheel.
By the time you got back to the house and put Su-an to bed, your heart was still pounding. You paced the living room, replaying the scene over and over in your head. The way he’d crushed the bread underfoot—there had been no hesitation, no anger, just cold, calculated precision.
Who does that?
And more importantly, why?
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The house was silent, save for the faint hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of the floorboards as you shifted on the couch. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but between your classes, assignments, and Su-an’s boundless energy, exhaustion had taken its toll.
It was the sound of the front door slamming that jolted you awake. Disoriented, you blinked into the darkness, the faint glow of the kitchen light casting long shadows across the room. Footsteps echoed through the hallway—heavy, deliberate, and nothing like the hurried, near-silent ones you were used to from the man of the house.
You sat up, your heart beginning to race. Something wasn’t right.
When he appeared in the doorway, your stomach twisted into a knot. His usually pristine white shirt was drenched in blood, the vivid crimson staining the fabric and dripping in thick, uneven streaks. His face was ashen, his dark eyes wild and unfocused, like a man teetering on the edge of something you couldn’t name.
“Wh-what happened?” you stammered, instinctively backing away as the metallic tang of blood reached your nose.
“It’s not my blood,” he said curtly, his voice gravelly and sharp.
As if that was supposed to make you feel better.
“That doesn’t answer my question!” you said, your voice trembling despite your attempt to sound firm.
He staggered toward the kitchen, his movements unsteady but purposeful. Against every ounce of self-preservation screaming at you to stay put, you got up and followed him.
“Are you hurt?” you asked, your tone softer this time.
He didn’t respond, instead gripping the edge of the counter as if to steady himself. The dim light overhead cast harsh shadows across his sharp features, making him look even more unapproachable than usual.
“Sit down,” you said, surprised by the steadiness of your own voice.
He turned his head, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your chest tighten. For a moment, you thought he’d ignore you, but then he surprised you by obeying. He sank into one of the kitchen chairs, his movements slow and deliberate, as if every step cost him.
You grabbed a damp cloth from the sink, your hands trembling slightly as you wrung it out. You weren’t sure why you were doing this—why you weren’t running out the door or calling the police. Maybe it was the way he looked, like a man who had seen too much, or maybe it was the faint vulnerability hiding behind his hard exterior.
“This... isn’t normal,” you muttered, more to yourself than him, as you began wiping the blood from his face. The cloth came away dark and sticky, and your stomach churned.
“You shouldn’t concern yourself with things you don’t understand,” he said quietly, his voice carrying a warning edge.
You paused, meeting his gaze. His eyes were darker than you’d ever seen them, filled with something unreadable—a mix of exhaustion, anger, and something else that sent a shiver down your spine.
“I’m here,” you said, almost defiantly, as you moved to clean his hands. “So I’m already concerned.”
He didn’t respond, but the tension in his shoulders seemed to ease ever so slightly.
The silence between you grew even heavier, the only sound now being the soft movement of the cloth against his skin. Your hands were shaking slightly as you worked, wiping the blood from his face, his hands, but his eyes never left you. They were intense—piercing, almost as though he were searching for something in your expression.
You couldn’t look away for long. The tension in the air thickened with every passing second, your heartbeat picking up, each thud echoing loudly in your ears. It was like being drawn into a web you didn’t fully understand but couldn’t escape from, no matter how hard you tried.
When you finally stepped back, giving him space, you thought you’d be able to breathe again. But then, his hand shot out, quick as lightning, wrapping around your wrist. The touch was firm, deliberate, sending an involuntary jolt of electricity through your veins. You tried to pull away, but his grip was unyielding. His fingers were cold against your skin, but the intensity in his eyes made your heart race.
"Why are you helping me?" His voice was low, gravelly, and for a moment, you wondered if he was testing you—seeing if you’d reveal the truth, or maybe if you’d run.
You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breath, but your pulse was hammering, and you couldn’t ignore the way your body reacted to his proximity. The heat between you both felt suffocating. His touch was grounding, yet it stirred something dangerous inside you. “Because someone has to,” you replied, your voice steady, though you could feel the words slipping off your tongue more as a defense than truth.
His gaze deepened, darkening in a way that sent a chill down your spine. The air between you was thick, electric, as if there were an unspoken promise between you both—a promise you knew you were too afraid to fully acknowledge. Then, before you could even react, he pulled you in close. His other hand slid to the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair with a force that made your breath catch in your throat.
And then his lips were on yours.
It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t slow. It was a collision, desperate and overwhelming, like a dam that had been holding back too much for too long and was finally breaking free. His kiss was messy—almost violent—as if he needed to consume you, to claim you in a way that made your knees weak and your thoughts scatter. His lips were demanding, his teeth grazing your bottom lip in a way that made your body tremble.
You should’ve pushed him away, told him to stop, told him that this was wrong. Your mind screamed at you to break free, but your body betrayed you, leaning into him instead, matching the fervor of his kiss. His hand slid to your waist, pulling you even closer, his grip tightening. Your breath was ragged between kisses, and your pulse pounded in your ears as the world outside of the two of you seemed to vanish.
When he pulled away, just far enough to catch his breath, your lips were swollen, your chest heaving. You couldn’t think. All you could feel was the lingering heat of his touch, the undeniable thrum of desire that still buzzed beneath your skin. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, there was something in them—something dark, dangerous, but...hungry.
His lips curved into a smirk, and it sent a jolt of unease running down your spine, mingled with something else, something deeper.
“You’re in over your head, kid,” he said, his voice a low murmur that sent a shiver down your back.
The words should’ve been a warning. They should’ve sent you running. But instead, they only lingered in the air between you, wrapping themselves around you like a noose. You should’ve known then, but you didn’t want to listen.
And for the first time, you realized: you were already tangled up in his web, and maybe—just maybe—you didn’t want to escape.
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The obsession grew in subtle ways. You’d arrive to find unexpected gifts waiting for you on the kitchen counter: a sleek leather wallet, a watch so expensive you didn’t dare wear it, a bottle of cologne that smelled like a storm breaking over the ocean.
When you tried to protest—“This is too much” or “I can’t accept this”—his expression would shift. His jaw would tighten, his eyes darkening with something that made your chest tighten.
“Take it,” he’d say, his tone brooking no argument. And you’d always comply, your words catching in your throat as he gave you a look that said refusing wasn’t an option.
Your feelings about him became a tangled mess of contradictions. Every instinct screamed that something about him was wrong. The blood, the cryptic way he spoke, the chilling bread incident in the park—they all painted a picture of a man you should stay far away from.
But then there were the moments that left you reeling. A lingering glance, a brush of his hand against yours, the way he could soften—just slightly—when he saw you with Su-an.
The first time he kissed you, you felt like your world had been turned inside out. It was sudden, overwhelming, and left you breathless. His lips were rough but urgent, like he was staking a claim rather than asking permission. And when it happened again—and again—you didn’t push him away. Instead, you found yourself leaning into him, craving the heat of his touch despite every rational thought telling you to run.
But his obsession wasn’t content to simmer beneath the surface. It began to consume him, bleeding into the delicate balance of your day-to-day life.
He started showing up during your babysitting hours, a presence that was impossible to ignore. At first, he’d just watch from the doorway as you played with Su-an, his dark eyes following your every move with a possessiveness that sent shivers down your spine.
Then, his involvement escalated. He’d dismiss you early—always with some excuse about needing to talk to you. But the moment Su-an was out of earshot, his demeanor would shift. He’d pull you into his room, his hands firm but not rough as he guided you inside.
“You’re spending so much time with her,” he’d say, his voice low and rough, tinged with something you couldn’t quite place. “Don’t forget who’s paying you.”
His lips would crash against yours before you could respond, his kisses urgent and messy, as though he couldn’t stand the thought of you being anywhere else but with him.
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The final straw came on a night like any other—or so you thought. Su-an had already gone to bed, and you were tidying up the living room when your gaze drifted toward the slightly ajar door of the man’s study. It was a room he rarely used in your presence, a space he kept locked most of the time.
You hadn’t intended to snoop. But the door was open, and your curiosity, already inflamed by the strange events surrounding him, got the better of you.
Inside, the air was thick with the scent of leather and faintly bitter cologne. The dim lighting cast long shadows over the mahogany desk and the shelves lined with books and files. One particular folder caught your attention—it was open, papers spilling out as if hastily shoved aside.
Your heart sank as you picked up the first page. It was your class schedule, neatly printed and highlighted. Beneath it were receipts from your favorite coffee shop, notes about your usual order scribbled in the margins.
And then there were the photos.
They weren’t candid shots taken on the street or at the park. They were intimate, the kind of photos someone would take if they were watching closely—too closely. You recognized the outfits, the moments. One was of you laughing as you pushed Su-an on the swings. Another showed you sitting on a park bench, earbuds in, entirely unaware of the camera.
The air in the room felt too thick, like it was choking you. Your fingers trembled as you shoved the papers back into the folder, heart hammering in your chest.
“What the hell is this?”
The words left your mouth before you even realized he was standing in the doorway, his tall frame silhouetted against the light from the hall. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes burned with something intense.
The folder in your hands felt heavier than it should have, its contents seared into your memory. Photos of you, notes about your life, details no one should know unless they’d been watching you for far too long. Your heart pounded in your chest as you stared at him, standing so calmly in the doorway as if this was all perfectly normal.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” you demanded, your voice shaking.
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stepped further into the room, his movements slow, deliberate. The door clicked shut behind him, sealing you in with the man you were starting to realize you knew far less about than you’d thought.
“I warned you,” he said, his voice low, almost soothing. “I told you not to go looking where you shouldn’t.”
“This—this is insane,” you stammered, backing up until the edge of the desk pressed against your hips. “Why do you have these? Why are you—”
“You don’t get it, do you?” he interrupted, his tone softening as he drew closer. His gaze was unrelenting, pinning you in place. “I’ve been watching over you. Protecting you. You’re... important to me.”
“Protecting me?” you shot back, your voice breaking. “This is stalking. This is obsessive. This—this isn’t normal!”
He stopped just a breath away from you, his height and presence overwhelming. His eyes, dark and piercing, searched yours for something, though you couldn’t tell what. Slowly, he reached out, his hand brushing against your cheek.
“I can’t lose you,” he murmured, his voice almost breaking. “Do you have any idea what you mean to me–and to my daughter? You’ve become... everything.”
The warmth of his touch sent an involuntary shiver down your spine. Your body tensed, torn between the instinct to pull away and the undeniable pull of his closeness.
“Stop,” you whispered, though your voice lacked the strength it should have had. “This isn’t—this can’t—”
But he didn’t stop. His other hand moved to your waist, firm but not forceful, as he leaned closer.
“You keep saying it’s wrong,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, his breath warm against your lips. “But you don’t push me away.”
His lips brushed against yours, testing, as though giving you one last chance to stop him. But when you didn’t move, when your breath hitched and your hands gripped the edge of the desk behind you, he took it as permission.
The kiss was slow at first, deliberate and searching, as though he was memorizing every inch of your mouth. But it didn’t stay that way for long. His hand slid up to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss.
You gasped against him, your hands instinctively gripping his shirt. The heat of him, the sheer intensity of his presence, was dizzying. When his teeth grazed your bottom lip, you couldn’t suppress the small sound that escaped you—a sound that seemed to ignite something in him.
His movements grew more desperate, more consuming. He pressed you back against the desk, his body caging you in as his lips moved from your mouth to your jaw, then down to the sensitive skin of your neck. The scrape of his stubble sent sparks of sensation racing down your spine, and you couldn’t help the way your head tilted to give him better access.
“You drive me insane,” he murmured against your skin, his voice rough, almost guttural. “Do you even realize what you do to me?”
You swallowed hard, your mind racing even as your body betrayed you, leaning into him. His hands gripped your waist, his thumbs brushing just under the hem of your shirt, and you shivered at the contact.
“This... this isn’t okay,” you managed, though the words came out weak, shaky.
“No,” he agreed, pulling back just enough to look at you. His gaze was dark, filled with something you didn’t dare name. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t want it.”
The words hung between you, heavy and charged, as he leaned in again, his lips claiming yours with a hunger that left no room for argument. And though your mind screamed at you to stop, to push him away, your body betrayed you, pulling him closer instead.
His hand slowly trailed to the hem of your sweatpants, lightly tugging on the strap, you flinched when his cold hand suddenly went under your boxers. 
“We shouldn’t be doing this– Su-an might-” you were interrupted with his other hand covering your mouth.
“Hush now, this room is soundproof,” he merely stated before harshly pulling your pants and boxers down with one tug. He then picked you up and placed you on the desk, pushing aside all the files and paper, which now seemed so insignificant.
“You’re hard. Are you still telling me you don’t want this?” He questions, his warm breath fanning your ear. You shuddered at the feeling, not knowing what to say, or what to do.
Before you could form words, he wraps his hand around your aching cock which was standing erect, partly due to the cool air, and partly due to what was happening.
His movements were minimal, slowly moving his hand along your shaft, while his other hand fetched a packet of lube from his back pocket. Where he managed to get that, you couldn’t tell.
He ripped the packet with his teeth, and spread the substance all over his fingers, before swiftly flipping you over, so that your ass was facing him.
Before you could utter a word of process, he had slipped a lubed finger in you. A wanton moan left your mouth at the sudden intrusion. 
“Fuck–don’t stop, please,” the man only smirked at this, slowly sliding in another finger, and then another. Three of his fingers slowly pumped in and out of you, and oh, it felt heavenly. His other hand held you up just a bit, to keep you from falling off the study desk.
Your hands gripped onto the desk, frantically trying to keep yourself upright, but to no avail. You kept slumping off, the pleasure being too overwhelming.
“Stay still for me pet, that’s it–good boy,” the praise went straight to your dick, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
Soon, the man determined that you had been prepped enough, and removed his fingers. You whined at the sudden emptiness, wanting to feel full once more.
He stared at your twitching hole, clenching around nothing. The sight did nothing but turn him on even more.
He removed his belt and cast it aside, while tugging down his pants and boxers with a sense of urgency. He easily flipped you over with his strong arms, now getting a clear view of your already fucked-out face.
He merely grinned, and before you could respond, he slid into your awaiting hole. You gasped at the intrusion, the head of his cock bullying its way into your hole. He groaned feeling the way you clenched around his length.
Without waiting for you to adjust, he fucked into you like an animal in heat, holding your legs in such a way that your knees where at your shoulders.
The new angle made his length hit your prostate with every thrust, making your head fall back on the table, a loud moan leaving your lips.
 The man was savouring every single reaction, every little noise you made. “Such a sweet little thing,” he cooed. “Can’t even keep a straight head while getting fucked, hm?”
The only thing that left your mouth was a string of garbled noises. Your brain had quite literally turned to mush with how well he was fucking you.
Soon, you felt your orgasm wash over you like a waterfall, but the man didn’t stop. Instead, he fucked into you harder, a bulge forming in your stomach with every thrust.
He lightly pressed on the bulge, which made you squeal– the overstimulation doing too much to your head.
He kept rutting into you until he felt his climax. When it came, his thrusts slowly started to stutter. Without warning he emptied his load in you, painting your gummy walls white.
He kept you on the desk, without pulling out as you whimpered, feeling so, so full.
With your mind in such a disarrayed state, you didn’t notice him slip a small ring onto your finger.
“Now you can’t leave me–or Su-an, ever. Poor thing needs a mother after all.”
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© carnalcrows on tumblr. Please do not steal my works as I spend time and and I take genuine effort to do them.
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dreamersparacosm · 19 days ago
Text
jeon jungkook - the boy is mine
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warnings ; this is porn. that’s all there is to it. reader is PINING, reader’s bff is a cunt, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (f recieving), dirty talk, spit play kinda, jk worshipping you, someone walks in on yall..
prompt ; in which your best friend needs to be taught a lesson on who your crush belongs to.
a/n ; i mean, this is absolute whore behavior on my end and i have no words. beware this is long AS A MOTHERFUCKER. and so much plot. enjoy. also this is college!jk and reader so WOO (also loosely based on the boy is mine - arianaaaa)
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Some people were just meant to be in the background.
Or, at least that’s what you’ve been telling yourself for quite some time now.
You were the kind of person who blended into the background, voice barely rising above a whisper when spoken to, presence often slipping unnoticed into corners of rooms. Some days were spent in Yonsei University’s prestigious library, buried in books, worlds that didn’t require attention, where the characters spoke louder than you dare would. It wasn’t that you minded, though—you were content to remain in the quiet… well, as long as your best friend, Seo-yeon, shone like a star in the midst of it all.
Nevertheless, there were times when her shine cast a shadow, and that light felt a little too harsh. You didn’t mind when Seo-yeon needed a shoulder to lean on, but lately it seemed like all she did was lean—never giving anything in return. And you tried to brush it off, scolding your brain it’s just the pressure of her rich father but deep down, you could not shake the feeling that Seo-yeon’s warmth was only reserved for someone else.
And that someone was your best friend since you were 10, Jeon Jungkook.
You get it. Who wouldn’t? Hottest guy at school, richest parents, biggest heart… and from the rumor mill, his heart wasn’t the only thing that’s big.
It’s always just been you and him. Jungkook and [Y/N], [Y/N] and Jungkook. Best friends since grade school, partners in crime on the playground. Really, they were setting you up for failure by having your best friend be someone who had a revolving door of women in his life. Even back in your young age, he somehow garnered more attention than an average adult. It was just who he was. You accepted that.
But then, somewhere along the timeline of convoluted wreckage your life, you two grew up. Grew closer, somehow. The lines of your life intertwined, never straying too far apart.
So, it was really no surprise to you when you woke up one day and realized you were madly, deeply, irrevocably, disgustingly, head over heels in love with him.
You had convinced yourself, over and over, that Jungkook knew. How could he not?
It was like this: you had seen a kiss in a television show when you were 11. Pondered what it felt like to do such a thing. It had been a fleeting moment, so innocent—just a brush of lips under the old oak tree in the park when you were 12, surrounded by the laughter of friends and the warmth of summer. But in that brief, stolen instant, something shifted inside you, a chemical reaction. The memory of that first kiss, so pure and untainted, lingered in the air, like a secret only you two shared.
You caught the glint in his eyes afterward, the way he looked at you as if seeing you for the first time, and ever since… well, ever since then, you’ve been his.
When Seo-yeon casually mentioned over drinks one night that Jungkook was sooooo cute and she was thinking of going for it, well, you should’ve been shocked, but how could you be?
She knew exactly what she wanted, and she wasn’t afraid to take it, even if it meant stepping on the quiet spaces you had carved out for yourself. It stung, of course, the idea that she could waltz in and claim something you had quietly held onto for years. But deep down, you knew the truth. You knew you would never go for it, not really—not with the unspoken barrier between you two, that kiss from ages ago still lingering in the air, in your blood.
And yet, Seo-yeon’s confidence in taking what she wanted, without hesitation or doubt, only reminded you of how much you were willing to give up, just to keep the peace. That’s who she was. And you? Well, you were the one who always let her take.
And all this to say, this is why you were standing with your spine pressed into the cold wall, eyes burning holes into Seo-yeon’s back, fingers digging into your red solo cup, heart thumping, as you watched her flirt with Jungkook.
It was supposed to be a fun night. Key word: supposed. Jungkook’s best friend, Jimin, had invited everyone to his house for a ‘get-together.’ You should’ve known when you got the invite it would be a party, another chance for you to be a wallflower.
And there you were, assuming your post, drinking whatever concoction Jimin’s roommate had created.
It was a tragedy.
The music swirled around you, yet you were caught in the gravity of Seo-yeon and Jungkook’s orbit. Every glance, every word that passed between them felt like a blade to your chest. Her laughter rang out, effortless and bright, and you watched as she leaned in closer to Jungkook, her fingers grazing his arm in a way that made the air between them shimmer with something unspoken. It was too much—too intimate, too easy.
You could feel the tension coiling inside you, a painful knot you didn’t know how to undo.
And before you do anything rash (or well, not that you will, but the thought of it) you hear a familiar voice that calms you down in the slightest.
“Boo.”
You instantly know it’s Taehyung, Jungkook’s other close friend who you’ve somehow managed to also become buddy-buddy with. You kinda had to, just to prove to Jungkook you can make other friends beside Seo-yeon. Tsk.
You lightly smile at him, but you refuse to take your eyes off Jungkook and Seo-yeon, as if you turn away for a second, they may leave you in the dust.
“You know… You’ve been staring at them like you’re waiting for them to start a new Netflix series or something.” He whispers near your ear, as if it’s some massive secret that no one could possibly guess.
You blinked, startled, “I’m not staring,” you mumbled, but Taehyung only raised an eyebrow.
“Sure you’re not. You're practically giving them a live commentary in your head, huh?
You scoff. “I don’t care if they talk. Honestly, I want them to get together. I mean, why not? It’s what she wants.”
His elbow lightly digs into your side, making you slap him away with ease, “Oh, really? Is that what you want? You’re not fooling anyone. You’re practically trying to will them together while simultaneously wanting to rip your hair out.”
“Why would you think I don’t want them to get together?” You roll your eyes.
You know exactly why. And.. may also have to do with the fact that besides your diary, Seo-yeon and yourself, Taehyung also knows about your little infatuation (which, and you remind yourself, only happened because you got quite drunk with him at the bar and admitted it two months ago.)
You don’t see it, but he rolls his eyes his again. “You are the worst liar I know.”
“I’m not lying,” you insisted.
He raises his arms up in defeat, “Fine, if lying is the route we’re taking, at least just tell Seo-Yeon to go home. Seriously, who even invited her?"
You finally remove your eyes off Jungkook and Seo-yeon to face Taehyung, who definitely looks drunker than you thought he sounded. “I’m not doing that. And plus, she’s my best friend.”
He snorts, “Really? The same best friend who’s currently talking to the boy she knows you’re in love with?”
Taehyung continues, probably, and you can only assume, because he got you to tear your eyes away from them and their incessant giggles. Really, what is so damn funny? “You’re practically turning into an accessory to the decor. Please go take him away from her. He already adores you.”
Jungkook did adore you—there was no doubt about that. When you both got accepted into the same university, he immediately integrated you into every friend group, every hangout.
But that was part of the problem, wasn’t it?
The temptation to rip Seo-yeon away, to somehow be the one he turned to, was enough as it is—but the fear of being seen, of finally stepping off the wall and making yourself known, kept you frozen.
Taehyung threw his hands up in mock defeat, still grinning. "Alright, alright, I give up. Do whatever you want, missy. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
You looked up at him, frowning, swirling your drink that’s been boiled down to just ice. “Warn me about what?”
“Don’t let this be one of those things you look back on and regret, thinking you should've acted before it was too late.”
You knew Taehyung was right, though admitting it felt like admitting defeat. You thought back to those moments with Jungkook—the way his high fives always lasted a beat longer than they should, or how his fingers would brush against your shoulder in the most casual way, as if it wasn’t just a touch, but something that had meaning beneath it. There were those quiet moments, too, when his gaze would linger, his eyes soft and unreadable, as though he was on the edge of something he couldn't quite grasp.
Deep down, there was that small, quiet part of you that wondered if he ever felt the same—if he ever wondered, like you did, whether you two could be more than just friends.
"Wow, when did you get so deep? You sound like one of those motivational speakers who talks about following your dreams and embracing the moment,” It’s your turn to roll your eyes, playfully pushing his shoulder.
He shot you a knowing look. "Hey, I’m just trying to save you from becoming the wise old lady at the bar telling stories about how you ‘almost’ told Jungkook you liked him when you were young and full of hope."
“Well, thank you for the life lesson.” You looked down at your cup, a heinous purple color now that the ice has completely melted. “I’ll stick to my alcohol for now.”
And he saunters off, weaseling his way through the hoard of people to bully his next victim, you suppose. You were a little tipsy, you won’t lie. With a sigh, you turned your head back to Seo-yeon and Jungkook.
…Where the fuck are they?
Now, it’s time to panic.
You pushed through a few random guys and girls, silently saying excuse me basically to no one but yourself. Vision gets hazy, but you can’t tell if it’s tears or the punch.
Heart flutters, skips a beat. There he is, pouring himself a cup at the drink table that’s been set up in the dining room. No Seo-yeon in sight. You assume you have 5 seconds before she comes back from wherever she is to trap him once more.
You waltzed up to the drink table, trying to act casual, but your heart skipped when you saw Jungkook standing there, grinning like he knew exactly what was going on in your head. He waved you over with that signature carefree smile, his bunny teeth poking out. “Well, well, look who finally decided to show up. Were you hiding from me or just avoiding everyone?”
You blinked, hands suddenly unsure of where to go as you fiddled with your cup. “I wasn’t hiding! Just… you know, blending in with the background. Like I do.”
Jungkook raised an eyebrow, his smirk turning into something a little more teasing. “Blending in? You? You’re like, the least subtle person here. You stand out more than the punch bowl.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You joked as you lean over him to pour yourself another cup of punch.
He laughed, leaning closer like he was about to share a secret. “Okay, but seriously, where have you been? Where’s your head at? I know, I know I said get-together… but it’s definitely a party.”
“Tsk, tsk. You little player,” You sipped your drink, looking up into his doe eyes. God, he’s just so…
Your curiosity got the better of you. “So, uh... what’s the deal with Seo-yeon? You two talking about something important, or is she just... I don’t know, using you for your impeccable taste in drinks?” The jealousy tugging at your chest made it harder than you expected to sound casual.
A small chuckle escaped him. “Seo-yeon? Nah, she’s just, uh, talking my ear off about some random stuff. Nothing exciting.” He shrugged like it was nothing, his tone so nonchalant it almost made you second-guess why it bothered you. “Honestly, I don’t even know half of what she’s saying. I’m just nodding and pretending to be interested.”
You blinked, surprised that anyone could be bored at anything she had to say. “Wait, really? You’re just... pretending?”
“Yep,” Jungkook grinned, his eyes glinting with amusement. “It’s a skill I’ve perfected over the years. Maybe you should teach me how to do it with more people, though. I’m still not great at pretending to listen to people who don’t bring snacks.”
You laughed, a bit of the tension in your chest easing. “I’ll take that as a compliment. But seriously, you’re not fooling anyone. You’re way too nice to actually ignore people."
He shrugged his broad shoulders, something you’ve come to notice as he’s grown older. “Possibly, but-“
Your breath hitched when Seo-yeon reappeared, her presence as loud and effortless as a storm breaking the quiet. With a smile that was all too practiced, she glided over, her eyes immediately locking with Jungkook’s, as if the space between them had always been empty, waiting for her to fill it. “Hey, Jungkook,” she purred, her fingers brushing against his arm as she leaned in a little too close, a familiar, flirtatious glint dancing in her eyes. “Still owe me that drink, remember?”
Jungkook’s smile widened, completely unfazed by her proximity. His fingers wrapped around the cup and handed it to her, their hands brushing lightly, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Of course,” he said, his voice soft, full of that gentle affection that made you want to stick a fork in your eye.
You felt the familiar nerves rise in your chest, the uncertainty pressing down on you like a weight you couldn’t shake. The scene before you felt too much, too close, and you found yourself backing away instinctively, your eyes flickering toward the exit. You just needed to escape, even for a second. But before you could take another step, Jungkook’s voice cut through the hum of the room, warm and easy. “Hey, do you wanna go play darts? Jimin has not shut up about it and I want to test out my skills.”
And he does it again. Digs you deeper and deeper into that dream of yours.
You took another sip out of your cup, locking eyes with Seo-yeon, who, for once in her life, looked nervous. See, if you weren’t 3 drinks deep, and you weren’t so desperate to remove her away from him, you would’ve went back to your post on the wall.
But Taehyung’s words linger in your brain like a broken record.
“You know, actually, I need to steal Seo-yeon away for a quick minute,” You reach out, grip onto her arm like it’s your lifeline. You’re almost certain you draw your fingernails in a little too deep to her skin.
“Huh?” Her eyes widened, blinking a few times.
You dragged her through the crowd, pulling her to the opposite side of the room with a swiftness that leaves Jungkook utterly baffled. He has stopped questioning yours and Seo-yeon’s friendship.
Your nerves buzzed with the alcohol in your system, and before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out. "Why are you flirting with Jungkook?"
There it was, out in the open. Lingering in the air like a cloud of smoke.
Seo-yeon blinked in surprise, her eyebrows rising as if you had just grown another head. “What are you talking about?” she replied with that same airy sweetness, but the underlying edge was unmistakable. “I’m just being friendly.”
“Friendly?” You scoffed, feeling the alcohol’s warmth pushing your boldness forward. “It’s like you’re auditioning for a role in Jungkook’s life or something. You're so obvious.”
Seo-yeon laughed, a soft, dismissive sound. “I didn’t realize you cared so much, [Y/N]. Wow, look at you. Finally standing up for yourself. Guess it only took a little bit of liquid courage, huh?”
She tilted her head, her voice teasing. “Didn’t know you had it in you.”
All you see is red, and you’re kinda imagining what her head would look like ripped out of its socket.
She keeps pushing, keeps pressure testing, keeps dragging the knife through you. “Whatever. If you want to make this a thing, go ahead. But don’t act like I’ve been the one playing games.”
“You know what?” It’s a rhetorical question, turning back to you with a slight tilt of her head. “If you’re not going to make a move, I’m all in on Jungkook. You’ve had your chance. It’s not my fault you can’t get out of your own head.”
Your breath caught in your throat, and something in you snaps. The rage bubbled up from deep inside you—something you’d never shown Seo-yeon before. She wasn’t allowed to take this from you too.
"Is that it, then?" You shot back, your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and disbelief. "You think you can just take everything from me because I'm not bold enough for you? You think you can just waltz in and claim him like he's some kind of prize because you know I won’t fight you for him? That’s not how this works, Seo-yeon."
Seo-yeon opened her mouth to respond, but you weren’t finished. “No. I’m done letting you walk all over me. I care, Seo-Yeon. I care about him."
And now you can’t stop it, this word vomit that has plagued you, it keeps tumbling out, slurred but filled with an undeniable intensity. You didn’t care anymore; the alcohol had loosened every restraint, every last thread of caution. "You’ve known. You’ve known I loved him this whole damn time. You’ve always known, and you’ve always taken from me—always—like you could just have whatever you wanted. I’m done pretending I’m okay with it.”
The silence between you two felt like a storm was brewing, the air thick with tension, and you, a tad too drunk to fully grasp what you were saying, but not so drunk that you didn’t know it was the truth.
Seo-yeon’s lips curled into a sly smile, her eyes flicking to the side before meeting yours again. "Well, you know what they say…the best girl always wins, right?"
You’ve already ruined the friendship, put the nail in the coffin and sent her floating down the river. You gripped your red solo cup so roughly you think it might break, “You think you're the best girl? Maybe it's time someone showed you that I’m done being second place. I’m done being the girl who just watches. I’m going to fight for him. You’ve had your turn, Seo-yeon.”
Seo-yeon’s eyes widened just a fraction, but she quickly regained her composure, laughing lightly. “Oh, really? You’re going to fight for him now? How cute.”
Your jaw tightened, but she didn’t back down. “Yeah. I am.”
And, you are certain if only Taehyung could hear you now, he would throw another party just for you having this conversation. You storm away, leave her in the dust to settle on its own. A part of your resolve breaks a little realizing that your own college best friend since day one of freshman year, was not the person you thought she was. But, that’s not what really matters to you.
The night dragged on, clusters of people fading in and out of the party. You don’t necessarily pay attention, you’re too busy feeling like a World War III hero after your triumph. You laughed with Taehyung in the corner, even flirted with a few people. Anything to take your mind off Seo-yeon desperately throwing herself at Jungkook, but you knew better than to look.
The lights felt dimmer, the music quieter. Jimin, ever the instigator, stood up with a grin that spread across his face like a mischievous secret. "Alright," he said, his voice warm but teasing as he looked around at the gathered circle of about 20 leftover wranglers. "Truth or dare, anyone?"
You broke your conversation with Taehyung, hesitated for a brief moment, heart thudding louder than the music. Normally, you would’ve stayed out of it—content to sit on the edge and observe. But tonight, something inside you whispered that this was the moment to stop being the quiet one.
A laugh rang out from someone in the group. “Really, Jimin? Truth or dare? We’re in our twenties, not twelve.”
Jimin just shrugged, unfazed, the playful gleam in his eyes still dancing. “Don’t care. It’s fun.” As if daring was the only thing that could make the night memorable.
As the silly little game began, you couldn’t help but notice the way Seo-yeon scrambled to sit next to Jungkook, her movements almost too eager, too forced. She slid onto the floor beside him, laughing a little too loudly, her hand brushing his casually, but it didn’t escape your notice.
It didn’t help that Jungkook, who had been laughing and talking with the others, now seemed to catch sight of the silence that stretched between you and your friend. His gaze flickered toward you for a split second, brow furrowed slightly. There was concern in his eyes, like he could sense the shift, the distance between you two, the fact that you hadn’t exchanged a word since the heated conversation. And for a moment, you could’ve sworn he looked... worried. It was only a glance, but it sent a ripple of uncertainty through you.
The game kicked off with such chaotic energy that there was immediate regret of your decision to join, Shirts came off, beers chugged, some over-the-clothes fondling. Laughter and teasing echoed around the room, but you couldn’t seem to join in. Your nerves twisted inside you, coiling tighter with every round. Every time your eyes flicked toward Jungkook, your heart skipped, and you could feel your emotions swirling—confusion, desire, hurt—but the fear of being exposed kept you frozen.
Seo-yeon, on the other hand, was all confidence, sitting smugly in her chair with a knowing smile, like she already knew she’d be the center of attention. Like she knew, deep down, you wouldn’t stand a chance.
Then, Jimin’s voice broke through your fog of thoughts, full of mischief and a glint of amusement. "Alright," he said, eyes dancing as he turned toward Seo-yeon and Jungkook. "I dare you two to kiss for five seconds."
You may as well have just shot yourself right in the face. Your breath caught in your throat. Your pulse thundered in your ears as you watched your (ex) best friend’s eyes light up with the thrill of the challenge. It was as if it was too easy for her—too perfect an opportunity to pass up. Without hesitation, she leaned toward Jungkook, her lips finding his almost effortlessly. The room seemed to quiet for a moment, and then it was the silence that felt louder than anything.
But what made your stomach twist wasn’t just the kiss itself—it was the way Seo-yeon’s gaze flicked toward you just before their lips met. A slow, deliberate look that lingered in the air. The seconds stretched, and you could barely breathe, and your heart was feeling as if it might break right then and there.
The kiss was over before you could even process the feeling of it, but the knot in you chest remained, heavy and tight, long after Seo-yeon pulled away. Jungkook glanced over at you, so briefly you almost didn’t catch it.
Your mind raced, but you struggled to push the images from her head, the lingering feeling of Seo-yeon’s smug gaze before the kiss. You took another sip, the burn of it helping to cloud the pain you didn’t want to face. The weight of it sat like a stone in your chest.
Taehyung’s voice cut through your spiraling thoughts. “[Y/N], truth or dare?” he asked, his grin teasing as he leaned towards you.
Jimin shot him a playful glare, almost about to protest, but Taehyung was quick, silencing him with a dramatic “Shh.” The room quieted slightly, all eyes on you as you hesitated for a fraction of a second. You were still reeling, but the alcohol buzz had emboldened you—made you feel more confident than you had all night.
"Dare.” You didn’t know where this sudden boldness was coming from, but you couldn’t back down now.
Taehyung’s grin widened, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Alright then,” he said, tapping his fingers against his drink. “I dare you to go into the closet with Jungkook for five minutes.”
The room went quiet for a moment. You felt the weight of the dare pressing in on your chest, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from Jungkook’s pointed gaze. Was this a joke? Was it real? Seo-yeon was first to break the ice, who snorted in disbelief. “Are we in fifth grade or something?”
Jungkook, who had been sitting quietly, his drink in hand, suddenly took a casual sip. To your surprise, he looked completely unfazed, almost... eager? “Who cares?” he said with a shrug, as if the whole situation was nothing more than a harmless, impulsive decision.
You froze for a moment. You didn’t know whether to laugh, cry or throw up. But there was not much protesting to be done because before you had a chance to speak, Taehyung is up on his feet pushing the two of you in the direction of the musty little closet.
The door clicked shut behind you, and the world outside the closet faded into nothing. Inside, the air was thick with unspoken words, the kind of tension that clung to the walls like the silence between them. You stood frozen, the room suddenly too small, too close. You could feel the heat of his presence even without touching him, the rhythm of his breath matching your own, as if your hearts beat in sync, caught in the same web of uncertainty. The dim light from the party barely reached, leaving you in a space of shadows and soft, anxious breaths.
For what felt like an eternity, neither of you spoke. The awkwardness hummed between you like a steady pulse, the weight of it heavy. You’ve known him forever but… you could feel your nerves twisting tighter and tighter, but the alcohol buzz made it hard to think clearly, each thought slipping away just as quickly as it came.
Jungkook finally broke the silence, a nervous chuckle escaping him, his top teeth playing with his lip ring. "This is… um, definitely not how I expected this to go.”
You tried to force a laugh, but it came out shaky, and you immediately regretted it. “Yeah, not exactly the closet of my dreams,” you said, though your voice trembled in a way you hoped he wouldn’t notice.
And then, just like that, Jungkook’s gaze met yours again, but this time, there was something different in his eyes—something softer, more vulnerable. It was like someone ripped your best friend away from you and replaced with someone who might actually.. never mind. He was pressed into you, your height difference showing as his head tilted down to look at you. His lips parted, like he was debating saying something.
Then, with a surprising gentleness, he spoke. “This is going to be so random but… do you remember our kiss?” he asked, his voice low and almost reverent, as if the question itself carried a weight he wasn’t sure how to handle.
You froze. The memories came rushing back, unbidden—a flash of two twelve-year-olds, awkward and innocent, caught in a moment that now seemed so impossibly far away. The brush of lips, quick and uncertain, a first kiss that neither of you truly understood.
But the way he looked at you now, like the past and present were colliding in that quiet, intimate space, made everything feel much more real. You could feel the heat rise in your cheeks, pulse quickening. He remembers.
“O-Of course I remember,” you whispered, the words tumbling out before you could stop them, your heart fluttering in your chest as the memory of that kiss resurfaced in vivid detail.
Jungkook held your gaze, his eyes dark, searching, as if he, too, was standing on the precipice of something he wasn’t sure he could face. There was a pause, a beat of silence that stretched between, thick with everything unsaid. And then, almost in a breath, he spoke again, his voice softer, but his words filled with an unexpected weight. “My mom brought it up the other day. Didn’t know she watched my kissing virginity get swept away.”
“Oh,” you laugh.
“I’ve thought about it a lot,” he confessed, his gaze never leaving yours. The words hung in the air like a fragile thread.
The confession hit you like a sudden gust of wind, unexpected and sharp. He’s thought about it? Like the way you have, maybe, possibly? Like writing in your diary about him everyday since then? Like dreaming about kissing him again every time you are even remotely close to him?
“So…” he started, breaking the silence, his voice light but with an underlying curiosity. “The last time you kissed someone... was it anything like that?"
There’s those stupid two bunny teeth that poke out in a cheeky smile as he teased you about something that should be so trivial, yet so was not.
Your eyes widened at the sudden question. You didn’t know whether to laugh or squirm. You could feel the warmth creep into your cheeks, and you quickly looked away, focusing on the clutter in the corner of the closet to avoid meeting his gaze.
“I… What?” You stammered, a little too flustered. "What kind of question is that?"
Jungkook chuckled softly, leaning casually against the wall, his eyes never leaving your face. "Well, I’m just curious. You know, if it was anything like the kiss we shared all those years ago," he teased, his voice deliberately casual.
You rolled her eyes, trying to deflect the attention. “It wasn’t like that.”
“I haven’t kissed anyone in forever. In fact…” You trailed off, not knowing how to finish the sentence without sounding ridiculous. “You know that. Last time was that random dude at that party last month.”
Jungkook’s smile returned, but it was gentler now, as if he was trying to make you feel better. “So.. What was the last kiss that actually meant something?” he asked, leaning in just slightly, the playful glint back in his eyes.
You knew damn well you couldn’t answer that without revealing too much. The truth was, there hadn’t been a kiss that meant anything—not since you were 12. But you couldn’t say that to him. Not yet.
“Long, long time,” You teased.
For a moment, you swear there’s a glimmer of hope behind his welcoming eyes.
“Maybe I just haven’t found the right guy,” you said, keeping your voice steady as you try to joke your way out of it.
Jungkook chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Must be hard to find someone who’s good enough to even compare to the 'best kiss ever' from when you were twelve.”
You froze, heart thudding in your chest as you realized what the weight of what he'd said. "Damn, you really remember that kiss, huh?"
Jungkook just smirked, his eyes glimmering. "Of course I do. How could I forget?"
And, there’s something that switches in the air, something that makes you realize you’re not as delusional as you think. You’re thinking back to every single time he’s given you that hope to hold onto, every time he has kept the dream alive. You met his eyes, looked into them, felt like you were peering into his soul.
He stepped a little closer, lowering his voice, a sudden seriousness in his tone. “And now… I kind of wish I could kiss you again. See if it feels the same.”
Either you are incredibly drunk, or he has lost his mind. Your thoughts swirled in a haze of alcohol and overwhelming emotions. You blinked, breath caught in your throat, trying to process the weight of his words. He wanted to kiss you again? You could feel the tension between them now, thick and suffocating, like the very air around them was holding its breath. But what was this? What was happening?
Your voice came out shaky, betraying the fear that had lodged itself in your chest. “Where is this coming from, Jungkook?”
Jungkook’s expression faltered for a brief moment, as if he hadn’t expected you to be so open, so raw. He took a step closer, his gaze softening, searching yours with an intensity that made your knees feel like jell-o. His voice was quieter now, more sincere, as if trying to reassure you, or maybe even himself. “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.. I mean we’ve been best friends for years.”
“I-I, maybe, who cares?” You repeated his words from earlier. “You’re drunk, Kook. We’ve been drinking for hours.”
“I’m not joking,” he said softly, his voice low and full of something you couldn’t quite name. "I wouldn’t joke about something like that."
Your breath hitched as he reached out, his hand gently brushing against yours, as if waiting for you to decide. You could feel the pulse of his touch, and with it, all the years of longing, all the secret emotions you’d kept hidden, pressing down on your chest.
It was almost too much. Too much to process, too much to understand. But the truth was clear now, sitting heavy in the silence between you. You were in love with him. And maybe, just maybe, he felt it too.
Just as the words hung in the air, just as you could’ve sworn that he was about to lean in and finally press his lips against yours, thick with longing and uncertainty, the quiet, intimate space you’d created shattered in an instant. The closet door suddenly flung open with a loud crash, and for a heartbeat, your world spun.
The sudden burst of light flooded the small room, blinding you for a second before you recognized the faces of your friends, all grinning mischievously. Taehyung, ever the troublemaker, leaned against the doorframe with a smug smirk on his face. Jimin, with his usual playful grin, stood next to him, his eyes glinting with amusement. And then there was Seo-yeon, leaning casually against the wall, her lips curled in a knowing smile.
You quickly stepped back, face burning as your eyes flicked between them all, still trying to process what had just happened. Jungkook stood frozen beside you, face flushed as he ran a hand through his hair, clearly embarrassed.
“Well, well,” Taehyung said with a mock pout, raising an eyebrow. “Look at that. The closet was really the place to be, huh?”
“Didn’t take you two long,” Jimin added with a chuckle, crossing his arms over his chest. “I knew this was going to be good.”
You felt the blood rush to your face, and you could barely look at Jungkook. Your heart was still hammering, a mixture of humiliation and confusion swirling in your chest. You opened her mouth to say something—anything—but words caught in your throat.
Jungkook cleared his throat, taking a small step forward. “It’s not like that. We were just talking.”
“Oh, talking, huh?” Taehyung grinned wider, obviously not buying it.
Your head was spinning. The echoes of the teasing, the laughter, and the flirtation were still reverberating in your mind. You could feel the alcohol mixing with the tension that had built up all night, and it was almost too much to handle. Your thoughts were a jumble—your best friend, Jungkook, the kiss that almost happened, everything was falling apart in a whirlwind of emotions.
The game seemed to fizzle out after a few more rounds, yet you were still sat there, hoping to make sense of it all. The clock slowly ticked by, bodies still trickling in and out of the house despite how late it was. And you probably should’ve made an effort to take to Jungkook, to fight for him, to stand up on your words to Seo-yeon.
And so there you stood, attached to the wall yet again.
Except this time, Jungkook was peeling you off of it. He had enough juice at this point to know better, to care less if he made a fool of himself.
He made his way toward you, his expression tight with something unreadable. “Can we talk?” he asked urgently. You opened her mouth to protest, but before you could say anything, he was already guiding you through the crowd, clutching your hand in his.
As you walked up the stairs, you looked down at the people left over from the night, and you caught a second of a glance from Seo-yeon. Maybe, just maybe, you were going to win this once and for all.
The loud music and chatter from downstairs faded as you made your way up to the quiet of the second floor. When you reached an empty bedroom, he closed the door behind you softly. You both stood there for a moment, a beat of silence hanging between you, thick with anticipation. You twiddled with your thumbs, setting your cup down.
Jungkook turned to face you, his expression full of something you couldn’t quite place—nervousness, uncertainty, and longing. He took a step forward, his breath shaky. "[Y/N].. Am I crazy?”
“What do you mean?” You gulped, pressing your back into the nearby bedside table.
“Is there something here I’m missing with us, are we good? Like, I haven’t spoken to you all night, Seo-yeon is shoving herself down my throat, and you know I hate her. And then… that stupid fucking closet has my head spinning. So, talk to me.”
You couldn’t believe this was happening—couldn’t believe he was saying this out loud.
Without thinking, you whispered, almost inaudibly, "You don’t know?"
Jungkook’s brow furrowed, and he took another small step closer, “What?”
Your heart pounded harder now, hands trembling slightly at your sides. You took a breath, then let it out slowly. Your voice was barely a whisper, but the words felt like they had been stuck in your throat for years. “You had to have known I’ve been in love with you.”
There it was. Out in the open, hanging, lingering. The words dissipated into the air. You started to wonder what magic potion was in this drink that had you ending many friendship tonight.
Jungkook froze, his eyes widening. He stared at you for a long moment, disbelief flooding his features. “I didn’t… I didn’t know. If I had known...”
“If I knew…” he began again, his voice strained, almost as if he were fighting to keep his composure. His gaze never wavered from yours, a storm of emotions swirling behind his eyes.
“I would have...” He swallowed hard, stepping closer to you until he was only inches away, his breath warm against your skin. “... I would have kissed you. A long time ago.”
You felt your chest tighten, the intensity of his gaze locking you in place. You could feel the electric pull between you, every inch of your body screaming to close the distance. But you didn’t move. Neither of you did. The air was thick, heavy with everything you hadn’t said, with everything that had been building between you, allegedly, for years.
Jungkook’s hand twitched at his side, as if he were fighting himself, unsure of whether to make the move or not. His gaze flickered between your lips and your eyes, a tortured look on his face. “Was it not obvious when I let you kiss me when we were 12?” he whispered, almost as if the words had slipped out before he could stop them.
Everything inside you screamed for him to close the distance, for him to finally kiss you when you were older. But the fear, the uncertainty, still lingered. “Jungkook...” you whispered, voice trembling.
Somehow, he always knew just what you wanted to say.
“I know,” he said softly, his face just inches from yours now. "I know."
“It wasn’t obvious, you know,” You began. The fire from earlier that raged when you snapped on Seo-yeon began to reignite, to push itself to the forefront and grow as bright and red as could be. How could he expect you to know? He had dated so many girls, so many people that weren’t you, that you had just started to normalize the fade you did into the background. It was insulting for him to think otherwise. “You dated like 10 girls after that kiss when we were younger.”
“You dated someone too,” He pointed out. True, but.. you only did it because he did. Which is surprising to no one.
“Yeah, but I was always there. I was always by your side, every breakup, every tear shed, hoping and praying you’d finally pick me. But there’s not a good way to say, hey I know we’ve been best friends for years but I’m in love with you. I didn’t, I don’t want to lose you,” You wanted to break his eye contact, look away and start crying into your shirt. But you didn’t. You held your ground.
His face softened, another cautious step taken towards you. “You’re not going to lose me.”
He’s so close now you can feel the nerves, the heat radiating off his body. You can smell that stupid cologne he got last Christmas from his parents. You can see his silver chain glisten under the light bedroom lamp. “Well, if you don’t feel the exact same, then yeah, I will lose you. And for the record, Seo-yeon knows I’ve been in love with you. God, she is such a little bitch. You know I finally ended it with her tonight. She’s insane. But whatever, my point is that if you’re not also in love with me, I’m done, I’m going to move to the US and become a monk. This is humiliating-“
You nor him got to hear the ending of that sentence, because before you know it, his warm hands are cupping your cheeks and pulling you into him, and he’s kissing you. It feels like this: you’re 12 again, under that white oak tree on the playground, your mothers watching a few feet away with a knowing smile on their face. Your heart quickens up its pace, tries to catch up to what is happening. But there’s no use. You’re a goner.
The moment Jungkook’s lips met yours, the world seemed to fall away. There was no party inside, no city stretching beyond the university—just him. Just this.
His kiss was slow at first, testing, as if savoring the feeling of finally closing the space that had been pulling you together for so long. His fingers, warm against your cool skin, tilted your face up to him, deepening the kiss in a way that made your breath catch.
You responded instinctively, pressing closer, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt like an anchor. The tension, the longing that had built between you for months—maybe even years—unraveled all at once, spilling into the way he kissed you, like he had been holding back for too long.
You had always wondered what it would be like to kiss him when you were older (especially after he got that stupid little lip ring that had you using your vibrator more often than you liked to admit.)
Jungkook exhaled against your lips, his hand sliding from your jaw to the nape of your neck, fingers threading into your hair. His other hand found your waist, pulling you flush against him. The heat of his body, the steady rhythm of his breathing, the way his thumb brushed circles against your skin—it all left you dizzy.
Your heartbeat pounded in your ears, each passing second making it harder to think, to focus on anything but the way his lips moved against yours. He tasted faintly of liquor, of something intoxicating yet familiar, something that made you want to drown in him completely.
“I shouldn’t have waited this long," he murmured, his voice rough, almost regretful. “It’s better than it was when we were 12.”
You let out a breathy laugh, your hands still fisting his shirt. "Then don’t wait anymore."
A slow smile tugged at the corner of his lips before he leaned in again, this time softer, slower, as if committing every second to memory. His lips brushed yours once, twice—just enough to make your knees weak—before he kissed you fully again. His tongue poked through, and a soft whimper left your mouth at the contact.
Jungkook’s second kiss was different—deeper, more certain. The hesitation that had lingered before was gone, replaced by something more urgent, more consuming. His fingers tightened at your waist as he pulled you closer, his lips parting against yours, letting the kiss deepen in a way that sent a shiver down your spine.
You met him eagerly, your hands sliding up his chest, fingers tangling in the collar of his shirt. He groaned softly against your mouth, a sound that sent warmth pooling in your stomach. His tongue brushed against yours, slow at first, coaxing, teasing, before he pressed in more insistently, his hand cradling your jaw as if he couldn’t bear to let go, moving down to wrap a gentle hand around your neck.
Your breath hitched as his grip on you tightened, his body pressing against yours as he held you firm to the bedside table.
"Tell me to stop," he murmured against your lips, but his hands never left your body, his fingers skimming the curve of your waist, the warmth of his palms making your skin tingle.
You shook your head, breathless. "I don’t want you to."
That was all he needed.
In one swift motion, his hands slid to your thighs, lifting you with ease. A surprised gasp left your lips, but you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, clinging to him as he carried you across the room. His lips never left yours, each kiss deeper, more desperate, as if making up for lost time.
He reached the edge of the bed, lowering you onto the plush mattress without breaking contact. His body hovered over yours, propped up on his forearms, his dark eyes searching yours as he caught his breath.
"You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this," he admitted, his voice husky, edged with impatience.
You let out a soft laugh, running your fingers through his hair, your own breath coming just as fast. "Then why did we wait?"
Jungkook exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Because I knew, once I had you like this… I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it."
His words sent a thrill through you, but before you could respond, he kissed you again—slower this time, savoring every second. His hands traced gentle patterns against your skin, grounding you, making you feel every ounce of emotion behind his touch.
His fingers moved deftly, swiftly, but there’s a bit of anxiety behind his touch. He kissed down your neck, slowly, agonizingly, to your collarbone… pushing aside your shirt to your shoulder. His knee dug into your thigh, and felt fuzzy from how much he was touching you, everywhere. You let out small whimpers, eager for him to continue, to know what it feels like to be one of his girls.
He looked up at you, eyes dark with something you don’t recognize from him. If he wasn’t your best friend, you would’ve been scared. His fingers ghosted down your chest, to your stomach, playing with the hem of your shirt, almost asking for permission. He doesn’t have to, because you’re propping yourself up and taking it off for him, just leaving your bra out on display. He pauses, takes a moment for himself, realizes he isn’t in a dream when he reaches out and touches one of your tits. It’s like he’s a prepubescent little boy again who has never seen these before.
“God, you’re perfect,” He mumbled, voice shaky, feeling you through your bra. He moved the bra aside a little, sees the hard nipple poking through and removes your entire bra, one hand. He peeled off his shirt, revealing his toned abdomen underneath and that tattoo sleeve he started working on two years ago.
You don’t know when you became such a withering mess underneath his touch but you’re glued down to the bed, imprinted on the mattress. Jimin will have to come peel you off tomorrow morning. “Touch me again,” you whispered out, low enough for him to hear and for his cock to twitch in his pants.
He looked back up at you, taking his attention away from your chest. There was a shift, a change of massive proportions in the air. You know he’s experienced. Everyone knows it. He’s had countless girlfriends, hookups with other friends… you’ve heard the rumors spread like wildfire.
When he speaks, his voice sounds almost pensive. “Has anybody ever made you come?”
The sound you make is much too close to a whimper for your own comfort. Involuntarily, you feel a flutter down there, and you realize faintly just how wet you really are, all of some stupid kisses.
You don’t need to look at him to know that he’s noticed your reaction.
“I- uh,” You’re utterly and totally speechless. The answer is no. None of your boyfriends ever figured it out truly. It’s not like they were studs in the bedroom. So, you would fake it, kiss them goodnight, and go finger yourself in the bathroom to get off. You somehow have a very strong intuition you won’t need to do that with Jungkook. “No, not really.”
His gaze becomes darker, pauses and thinks of his next move. He pushed you back onto the mattress, making room for himself to painstakingly slow move in between your legs. Jungkook lifts your skirt up, revealing your lacy pink panties that have a wet spot engrained right in the middle. “Fucking hell, you’re soaked,” he whispers, mostly to himself.
He looked back up at you. “Do you want me to make you come?”
He can’t be serious. The blood rushed from your face down to your toes.
“P-please,” You whimpered, tugging your bottom lip underneath your top lip. “Please, Kook.”
“I can’t believe no one’s ever appreciated this pussy,” You can’t tell if he’s speaking mostly to himself as he took off your skirt fully, letting it fall on the floor with a soft thump. “You are so beautiful, [Y/N]. I’ve been dreaming about this for months, years.”
You just nod in response, since that’s all you can muster as he drags the pink underwear off your thighs, down your ankles, off your being. You want him to make you come, want him to be the reason you feel immense pleasure.
He’s still babbling to himself, something about how he’s going to wreck you tonight and all that, and then you feel his tongue flatten out on you, making a circular motion on your clit. Your pornographic moan could probably be heard across the entire campus. Your whole body jolts alive, eyes squeezed so, so tight as he worked his tongue repeatedly over your clit, lapping up every ounce of your wetness he can.
Your hand reaches out to grasp at something, anything, clutching his hair and holding his head as his tongue rolls around in between your clit and your entrance. His nose bumped against your clit as your hips began to rock up and down, your body aching for more, anything he could provide you would take it.
“Jungkook,” You breathed out, followed by a string of profanities and moans. He seemed to be pleased by your reaction, his arms wrapping around your thighs and pulling your legs around his head, practically suffocating himself with you.
“F-fuck, how are y-you so good at this?” Your back arched off the mattresss, vision blurry as he continued his assault on your clit. He was so lost in it, so deep in it, he could barely respond.
He pulled away for a second, looking up at you with his big eyes, lips glossy and covered in your slick. You watched as he gathered some saliva in his mouth, spitting it onto your clit and letting his fingers rub your bundle of nerves. “Oh my god,” That elicited another expressive string of words, your chest heaving as you teetered closer and closer to that edge.
You still couldn’t believe this was happening; your best friend of over a decade, eating you out like you were a five-course meal.
He enveloped his lips around your delicate bud and pulled, and you can hardly contain yourself, fingers darting to his locks, the sheets, your abdomen. You can't sit still, can't halt the convulsions, losing all sense of self over your own body. Every which way, on him and off him, thoughts in turmoil and emotions in chaos and sensations askew, and you can't fathom how nobody's ever subjected you to this before, and how have you managed to live without the sensation of Jungkook's lips on your pussy.
His fingers replaced his mouth again, this time, splitting you open with two fingers that glide right in with how overly soaked you are. “Gonna make you cum so good, princess,” He said. “Gonna make you forget any of those lames before me.”
He has to realize that won’t take much convincing. You’ve already forgotten what any other man looks like.
As his lips reconnected with your burning core, all inhibitions vanish. He darted his tongue in and out, in and out, in and… your eyes rolling back in ecstasy, your legs straining to offer him greater access, even to the point of discomfort when your muscles protest, but you crave him closer, deeper, harder, and you're drowning in longing, aching with it. The only anchors keeping you grounded are his hands, the one hand that has wandered from your clit to fondle your tit, the other that is now relentlessly pumping in and out of you.
He's cautious, nearly tender, but it's futile, you're soaked, allowing him continuous entry of his fingers without any struggle, devoid of any tension in your muscles. You're incapable of tightening up even if you wanted to.
“I-I, fuck, Kook, I’m gonna cum,” You whined out in a tone that was half begging, half delirium. You weren’t even sure your body was in control of itself anymore, you just wriggled and thrashed around as he worked you to finish.
“Yeah?” He said against your clit, his breath fanning against you. His fingers continued to pump in and out of you, his other hand rubbing incessantly circles on your clit. It was all too much, far, far, too much. “Fuck, I want you to cum for me. Want to taste you, taste what I’ve been missing all these years.”
It engulfed you completely, resonating within your core, your toes, and your fingertips. It propels you off the bed, leaning forward, fingers clutching his hair, legs quivering uncontrollably, screaming his name over and over like a prayer.
It seemed to go on for hours, his fingers penetrating you through it, his tongue caressing you through it, and all thoughts dissipate under the onslaught of that blinding, electrifying pleasure.
Jungkook persisted, relentless, until you thrusted his head away with vigor, overwhelmed by the sensation to the point of pain erupting like tiny needles. You have absolutely no idea how any girl ever let him get away, but you make a mental note that he will never leave your sight. He leaned over you, hovering over your shaking body.
His head bowed down, pressing a kiss on your lips, and you taste yourself for the first time. It’s a mix of him and you, salty and sweet and warm and dirty. You want it, again and again and again..
But you want him to feel good too. Want to do right by him, make him yours officially, have him scream out your name. You pulled away from his kiss, wiggling yourself out from under him. With a surprising amount of strength you mustered, you flipped the two of you; you’re straddling him, thighs locked on either side of his toned abs. His eyebrows raised, lips still slick and swollen with your juices and saliva and you’re pretty certain you’ll have a stroke if you keep looking at him.
You’re still dripping onto his bare chest, abs now covered in you as well. Probably the second hottest thing you’ve seen so far. You leaned down, kissing him, fighting for some sort of reprieve. You kissed down his jaw, his neck, and his little whimpers send you to a different planet.
He’s just so vocal, and now you can’t get enough.
“Let me ride you,” You said.
He blinked. Was he hearing that right?
“Please,” You pleaded. “I just… I want to make you feel good, Kookie. Like you did for me. Wanna make you happy.”
He smirked, rubbing his warm hands against your thighs, “I’m already happy just like this.” And he’s right, his cock is rock-hard and honestly, he hasn’t ever been like this before with any of his past girls. It’s because it’s you, the girl he called his best friend who used to be the quiet, shy one, is asking him to let her ride his cock.
“Pleaseeee..” You moaned, shuffling your body downwards so your clit was directly above his Calvin Klein boxers, grinding on him slowly like this was a middle school party. You didn’t even know when he had taken off his jeans from earlier, you assumed it was during the time his face was buried in your cunt.
He played around with his lip ring, his nervous tic. “Fuck, yeah, baby just go for it. Show me how you ride your best friend.”
You pulled back to finally get rid of his boxers, to finally see what’s underneath, if the rumors rang rang true. You looked down at his cock, splayed across his lower abdomen, open your mouth to speak and… pause.
“Jungkook,” you began, eyes widened, half horror and half excitement, “I-you’re so… big.”
And the moment you’ve said the words, you regret them. His ego was about to inflate to the size of Jimin’s entire house. He looked up at you through hooded eyes, licking his lips, “Yeah? You gonna take it, baby?”
The pet name made you shudder. “I-I can try,” You stuttered. “I’ve never been with someone this big before.”
He chuckled, his hands coming around to rest on your hips, rubbing circles with the pads of his thumb. You knew damn well he knew how many guys you’ve been with, how many people you’ve fucked, but never their dick size. Didn’t really come up. But, this… well, this was going to be a challenge.
“It’s okay, baby,” He coaxed, “How about you be a good girl for me and start off slow?”
You wanted to be his good girl more than anything in the entire world in that moment.
You can’t even answer, can’t do anything, because he began to align his cock to your sopping entrance, pushing inside of you. It’s excruciating, it’s slow it’s almost impossible to understand how he’s splitting you in half. Jungkook’s head fell back on the mattress, face scrunched up in pleasure, jaw hanging open.
The slide felt almost endless, like you would never reach the hilt of his cock. There’s an endless cycle of Jungkook’s voice spilling endless praise for you taking him so well, that he’s almost all inside, that you already look so full, that he’s never letting you go.
And then finally, when you’re about to tap out and let him get on top, you feel your clit pressed his pubic bone and your body has never felt so entirely filled.
You both let out a simultaneous moan that you’re certain everyone downstairs heard and is getting ready to come upstairs and bang pots and pans at the door.
“I…” Your body gave out a little, and you lean backwards on your palms, giving him a better view of how irresistible you look with his cock so deep inside of you.
“Fuck, baby.” His hand traveled to your clit, rubbing circles, “So damn tight, huh? No one’s fucked you like this in a while.”
All you can do is nod.
The sounds are obscene. His cock plunging into your wetness with each bounce of your knees, the headboard slamming against the walls, your own whimpers, Jungkook’s groans. You know they can hear you. And you don’t care. Not one bit. In fact, you want it.
You fell forward a little, gripped onto his chest and dug your fingernails into him. You can’t even think, breathe, can’t remember the last time something has ever felt this ethereal. Your head lulled backwards, fingernails so deep in his skin you’re leaving bruises. Jungkook gripped onto your hips, pads of his thumbs imprinting themselves on your skin. You’re certain he must be pussy drunk or something, because the only things leaving his mouth are blabbers, “… fuck, you are so tight and wet.. fucking beautiful, my best girl so good, need you so bad, always..”
Your hips continued to undulate wildly, and you don’t even know where the confidence is coming from but you felt like some fucking goddess riding this man into oblivion. And you recognized it, he’s so close, his face is contorted, chest heaving, eyes squeezed so tight, committing the feeling of you riding him to memory..
And you never get to see that orgasm (yet) because you hear the door swing open. Jungkook sat up, eyes widened, looking between you and your intruder. But you’re too in deep, too into it to stop, too close, too needy… who gives a fuck if Taehyung or even Jimin sees?
He looked back at you, face flushed with an expression you can’t recognize. You tossed your head back, and you understand why he looks like that. You caught a sight of Seo-yeon’s black hair, and when you turned your body, you saw her figure standing there in the doorway, watching, observing, a tiny (and you have to look hard) smirk on her face.
“Are you going t-to get the fuck out or what?” Jungkook tried to sound tough, but he’s coming undone closer and closer by the second.
And you don’t know what it is, maybe it’s the fact you’re fucking your best friend, maybe it’s the fact you’re still a little drunk off the punch, maybe you’re just a different person than 3 hours ago, but you turned back to Jungkook and go, “Let her stay and watch. Let her see how good I fuck you. Let her know you’re fucking mine.”
You can’t see it, but she blinks at the doorway, jaw unhinged and a gulp of saliva slithering like molasses down her throat. “Fuck, baby, you’re going to make me cum,” Jungkook whined out.
“Yeah, you want to cum?” You leaned back, giving him full access to your pussy and the way his cock is coated with your juices, dripping onto his abdomen, making a mess everywhere. “Tell her you’re mine. Now.”
You don’t even know if she’s still there, you just want him to say it. Even if it’s just for you.
But, he looked back at her, looks back at her petite frame in the doorway, then back at you. “I’m yours. I’m fucking yours, baby. Forever.”
“Good boy,” You leaned your body back into him, press a kiss into his sweaty cheek. You then turn back around to handle her, and it almost makes you want to laugh how she’s now frozen to the wall like you once were. “Now, close the fucking door behind you while I finish him off.”
The door slammed behind her, but you barely noticed or cared. He’s an absolute wreck, singing praises to you and you’re all yeah yeah yeah please please please I’m so close, and he came undone so fiercely he’s struggling to keep it together, to not collapse. He coated your walls, and you clenched around him as you barreled through what might be the most insane orgasm of your life.
There’s a moment where black washed over your vision, jaw ripping open trying to scream his name, or anything remotely in the dictionary, and you’re just putty on top of him as your body shakes and convulses trying to come down.
You fell into him, on top of him rather, hearts struggling to get back to its normal rhythm. He doesn’t want to move, can’t imagine going anywhere in that moment. You finally moved over to his side, nestling into him and you’re certain there’ll be a mold of your body on him tomorrow. He wrapped his arm around you, tugging in as close as he possibly could.
For a while, you just lay there like that. You welcomed the silence, no longer letting it scare you.
“You know, your mom and my mom were plotting on us.”
He’s the first to break through your thoughts. You giggled, tracing circles on his chest, listening to his heart thump thump thump against his ribcage. “I’ve always loved you. I know that. Well, ever since you gave me that Spider Man plushie when we were 11.”
You can’t deny the shit-eating grin that appeared in your face. You weren’t about to tell him you fell into love with him before that, probably when he gave you a Hello Kitty bandaid for one of your ouchies. “Is that so?” You teased.
Into your hair, Jungkook whispered, “Always been mine.”
There’s a wave of something that crashes over you, something you feel deep within you. He’s mine, you thought to yourself. And it makes you blink tears away because of it.
You laid there, peacefully, silently, in absolutely bliss…
“Ugh, Jungkook! Right there! So fucking good!”
“[Y/N], keep going! Your pussy feels so good! Ahhhh!”
“Jimin! Taehyung!” Jungkook roared, reaching up one arm for the pillow on the bed and flinging it at the wooden door, other arm still wrapped loosely around your shoulders.
“Hey, man! You can’t get mad at me! You just had sex in my fucking bed. You’re doing my laundry for six months!” Jimin’s voice cracked at the realization of you two… in his bed… with god knows what juices splattered. He shuddered even imagining it.
“He’s got a point,” Jungkook sighed, running his hand over his face.
You laughed a little, then he did too, and you felt the vibration against your body. There was only him, only now. And as Jungkook pulled you closer, tucking you into the warmth of his arms, you realized— it was supposed to be this easy. And for the first time, it didn’t feel like a risk. It didn’t feel scary. It felt like home.
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
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fastandcarlos · 5 months ago
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"Uncle Charles?" : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc
summary: for the first time charles feels as if he's part of your family, all thanks to your car obsessed niece
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Your hand waved into the air as you noticed Charles appear in your parents’ garden, dressed still in bright red Ferrari after finishing for the day. There were children running around everywhere as you celebrated your niece’s birthday, with Charles appearing at the end of the day. 
Despite you assuring Charles that he didn’t need to worry about attending, he was adamant he was going to make the time. When he appeared, your family were more than surprised, knowing just how busy Charles had been as the start of the new season loomed. 
As Charles made his way over to you though, he was intercepted by a voice calling out his name, a figure running across and leaping up into his arms. Charles stumbled back as your niece leapt up and gave him a hug, her arms going tightly around his neck as Charles held onto her waist, carrying her over to where you sat. 
“Happy birthday cherie,” Charles grinned, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You look like you’re having a good time,” he added, taking a look around the garden. 
“I was waiting for you to arrive,” she excitedly told him. 
As Charles sat down beside you, he placed your niece back onto the ground, but she refused to let him go. With her still holding on, he leant across and pressed a kiss to your cheek to try and greet you, but your niece was having none of it. 
“Did training go well?” You asked, unable to hold back your laughter as your niece invited herself to sit up in Charles’ lap, ignoring her friends who were calling for her to play with them. 
The bond that Charles had with your niece had always been close ever since they first met. He was beyond amazing with her, which your sister was particularly a big fan of, finding herself getting giddy whenever Charles was around, never quite being able to leave him alone for too long. 
“Yeah, for once, it actually went pretty well,” Charles smiled, his voice filled with relief after what could only be described as a tricky build into the preseason preparations. 
As he sat with your family though, he was reminded about what was important. As much as he wanted the car to do well, what mattered the most was the people around him, particularly the little one in his lap who was over the moon to be able to spend her birthday with him. 
“I’m happy that you managed to make it here though,” you told him, keeping your eyes on your niece, “and I think I know someone else who is pretty happy to have you here too.” 
If he was honest, Charles wouldn’t have missed it for the world, although your niece wasn’t on his side of the family, he still absolutely adored her. He wasn’t blind to how close they were too, knowing that she was counting on him to show up for her. 
“What’s been the highlight of your day princess?” Charles asked as your niece shifted to look up at him, her hands cupping against his cheeks. “There’s got to be one present that you can’t wait to show me later on tonight.” 
Her head nodded, turning round to face Charles properly again. “My favourite present is your present that you bought me,” she proudly told him, recalling the Ferrari car that you’d bought her, well, a child sized one at least. 
Charles’ smile turned up as she spoke, “I had a feeling that you’d like it. Maybe I can try and get some Ferrari clothes for you so that you can look the part too.” 
Your niece nodded instantly, “I want to be just like Uncle Charles, that would be awesome.” 
Your eyes flickered across to Charles, making sure that he was listening to. A gasp came from him, his eyes lighting up as he took a moment to make sure that he wasn’t just dreaming what he had heard. 
“Want to be like who?” Charles asked her, wanting to hear it one more time to make sure that he was correct. “Who is it that you want to be the same as?” 
“Uncle Charles,” she giggled, “I want to be able to drive really fast when I’m older and drive all of the cool cars.” 
“Uncle Charles,” Charles whispered to himself, “well, that’s pretty cool.” 
You reached across and pressed your hand against Charles’ shoulder to try and keep him together, sensing that he was feeling slightly overwhelmed. Your niece was unaware of what she had done, but hearing her finally call him uncle meant more to Charles then he could ever express. 
“I’m going to go and ask mummy if I can play with the car soon,” your niece told you both, climbing out of Charles’ lap. “I want you to show me how to do it before you go home so I can be as fast as you.” 
Charles helped her down before shifting his body to look around at you, letting go of a chuckle of disbelief. You smiled widely across at him, nudging against Charles’ arm gently. 
“You must be pretty important for her to call you uncle,” you told him, brushing your hand through his hair. “She absolutely adores you Charles, apparently you’ve got your own mini me in the future already too.” 
“She’s a good kid,” Charles hummed, still slightly in disbelief. “I’m trying to be chill about this, but inside my heart is absolutely racing right now.” 
You could tell from the look in his eyes that it meant the world to Charles, your family were all special to him, but the children in your family were a little more. He loved being around them, entertaining them and making them smile, which he seemed to do perfectly. 
“It sounds like I’ve got to find a pretty good present for next year too,” he chuckled, “do you think your sister might hate me for buying her a Ferrari?” 
“I dread to think the state her house will be in soon,” you sniggered. 
As guilty as Charles wanted to feel, seeing how excited your niece was about her gift made it all worth it for him. “I might have to go and apologise otherwise she’ll never speak to me again.” 
“Well, you’ve definitely won the competition for best present this year,” you joked, slipping your hand into his. “She won’t be mad at you for too long anyway, she adores you, my whole family do to be honest.” 
“They’re awesome,” Charles encouraged, “I’ve never known a group of people to make me feel so welcome in my life, I feel like I’ve always been here with you guys.” 
“Now you’ve got no choice but to be stuck with us too.” 
“I’m not complaining,” Charles noted, pulling you up from where you sat, twirling you around and letting you fall into his lap. Charles’ arms wrapped around your frame, allowing you to replace your niece in his hold. 
“Seems you’ve got a future as a driver coach too.” 
Charles’ head shook, unable to hide his excitement, knowing that over the next few days whilst he was home he’d be out playing with your niece, showing her the ropes of the new car that he’d bought her. 
“How does it feel to officially be an uncle?” You grinned, pressing a kiss against Charles’ cheek. 
“It feels pretty special indeed.” 
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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oceantornadoo · 7 months ago
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persephone (simon riley x f!reader) age gap, a bit coercive, dark
it started with fruit.
you were simon riley’s secretary, working for a man clouded in darkness and gold. you’d hear whispers on the street, see pitying faces when you mentioned who you worked for to strangers. to them, he was a cold, hard beast. to you, he was a king.
he started by bringing you fruit, pomegranate seeds and ghost-white pears. small quips about eating healthy now while you were still young enough. ms twenty something meets mr not-yet middle aged, the lines of his face just starting to crease but the beer belly nowhere to be found. he mined diamonds, you heard. he owned cemeteries, said another secretary. they call him ghost, whispered a personal assistant. you didn’t care, didn’t need to when that wasn’t your job.
he had scarred hands, craggly things winding into the cuff of his midnight black suits. didn’t wear a mask but always seemed to be covered in darkness, his face unrecognizable in half lit rooms and empty offices. he always stayed late so you did too, indulging in the extra car he ordered for you, his driver called charon. simon never held long conversations but simply beckoned you, some string in your belly pulling tight at his recognition. at least a third of his day spent with you, murmuring soft nothings, inquiring about your mother and the upcoming winter, the beauty in the death of the trees. “y’ smell like spring, love.” he’d said one morning, and you resolved to wear that same pomegranate spritz indefinitely.
and then it moved to jewels. congratulations on your one year preceded by a tennis bracelet. a trinket of a three headed dog, something small to keep on your desk. the hours draw on later and later, canceled plans with your mother and nymph-like friends piling up like leaves. his touch starts lingering, hard calluses on soft skin.
a hand on your back, guiding you into a conference room. your hair brushing against his torso, the intimacy of it jarring. you twisted your ankle one day, the height of your heels overindulgent. ended up on the couch in his private office, his hands massaging your foot. “like a delicate flower.” he’d murmured, rewarding you with an anklet of diamonds once the pain wore off.
three years in, an invite to his private island. no service, leave your phone at home. sign an nda, we’ll work remote, gone for a month maybe more. pack some nice clothes, maybe a white dress if you’ve got one. take my card if you don’t.
stepping off the helicopter, charon at the helm. you weren’t there against your will but the hairy arm around your waist was heavy, a reminder of the cost you’d paid to visit the underworld. two weeks in and you couldn’t even act surprised when he proposed, on one knee with a glint in his eyes. “you and me, love, against th’ world.”
and if you said yes to the fruit, the diamonds, the care, the attention - saying yes to this was just the next step. an elopement, he’d already drawn up the license - “why wait, dove? y’r so fragile already.” you’re not, have a hidden strength under you, but ghost doesn’t care, ghost takes what he wants, and you, legs spread and eyes soft, are it.
when he fucks you, that’s when it’s settled. cunt dripping on his fingers, his face, his cock. he mutters something about a vasectomy and you’re taking him bare, making eye contact with a ghostlike gardener who walks past the window. your jaw unhinged, drool at the corner of your mouth as he fucks you from behind, one hand on your throat.
“such a good secretary, hm?” and you nod ferociously like the three-headed puppy on your desk. you’ll never work again, too busy with his cock in your mouth or his remote vibrator in your cunt at dinner. the jewels drip into a roar - diamond encrusted toys you’re not sure are entirely safe, bejeweled handcuffs, glittery collars. he’s pluto, the riches of the earth following his orders when he chases you in his private woods. simon’s presence is otherworldly, taking you with the strength of a god as you squirm against his grip. his oldness disgusts you but makes you gush all the same. “gonna be good for daddy?” and you agree vehemently at the king before you, on his knees.
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lqveharrington · 5 months ago
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Buried in a Book | R.L.
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summary: While you were part of the biggest friend group in Hogwarts, you’re often in your own world to even register the plans they make.
pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader
includes: remus being the best boyfriend in the entire world, reader feeling a little insecure, reader’s last name is rawlings (no, i didn’t realize how close it was to rowling until later 😞)
a/n: someone spam message me to finish my coryo series please 😭🙏
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One of the best things about being in Gryffindor were the people you made friends with. From rule-breakers — such as James and Sirius — to heavy rule followers — Lily Evans herself — it was so diverse. You could throw pranks with the marauders while being a prefect. By the end of sixth year, the group was tight knit and it seemed as if nothing could ever ruin it.
But there was one thing they would typically forget about with their rambunctious nature. They always forgot about you in their plans. It wasn’t as if they did it intentionally. No, it was because you were always off in your own world, and when they made plans you didn’t hear them. Usually one of the girls would tell you, or your loving boyfriend, but you felt awful every time.
Today was no exception.
Sirius and Marlene made plans to Hogsmeade during breakfast for the weekend. And of course the rest of the group seconded that call and hurriedly ate their food to prepare for the trip. Being oblivious to everything that was happening, you continued to read your novel until Remus cleared his throat as a small warning.
Hearing this, you put a finger to your last sentence and looked up at him, eyebrows knitting up in confusion at the lack of noise coming from around you. “Where did they all go?”
“They made plans for Hogsmeade about…” He looked down at his watch, tapping it softly. “… Five minutes ago.”
He stacked the plates surrounding their area, your eyes watching his movements in silence. You thought you were listening to them this morning, but the last thing you heard before you got fully immersed was the next prank Sirius wanted to pull on Severus Snape.
Frowning, you carefully put your bookmark into your book and leaned your head on Remus’ shoulder, voice coming out quiet. “I didn’t realize.”
Remus wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pressed a kiss to your temple for assurance. “It’s okay, dovey. You were so invested in your book that I didn’t want to bother you.” He gently helped you up from the bench and pulled your closer to him, his slender fingers tracing patterns on your shoulder. “Besides, I get to have quality time with my best girl.”
A soft smile graced your lips at his comment, but a small part of your mind was eating at you. What if they were talking about something important and Remus wasn’t there to tell you about it? You guessed the girls would, but you would bet they would forget to tell you before you realized they left you.
“Is there anyway specific they asked us to meet then?” You murmured as you entered the Gryffindor common room where only a young first year was sitting by the fire and reading a muggle book.
“I think we both know the answer to that.” He played with the ends on your hair as he pulled around to face you properly. He twisted the ends and watched them unfurl until meeting your eyes.
You looked up and shook your head in amusement as you both said “The Three Broomsticks” at the same time. You scrunched your nose and smiled again when he kissed your forehead as a short parting gesture.
By the time you left the common rooms and made it to The Three Broomsticks, they were just leaving, causing another wave of guilt pass through you.
“There you two are! We were wondering when the both of you would make it.” Sirius pushed in between the both of you to wrap his arms around yours and Remus’ shoulders. “You guys missed out on Evans chugging down her butterbeer because Dorcas dared her.”
You blinked and looked over to Lily in surprise, but the wave of guild began to crash again. “Oh, that must’ve been interesting.”
“Very.” He nudged your side softly before noticing how weary you looked. “You okay there, Rawlings?” His voice got quiet and leaned closer to you. “You and Moony didn’t… You know?”
“Godric, what is wrong with you?” You push him away and dust the invisible dirt off your side. “No, I didn’t realize you guys left us so we went back to the common room before coming here.” You roll your eyes and trudge into Honeydukes with a frown on your face.
“Just a question!” Sirius called after you and look toward Remus instead. He gave him an unimpressed look and peeled Sirius’ arm off of him, raising a brow at the man. “She knows I was joking, right?”
“She does, but she’s not in the mood.” Remus rolled his eyes at Sirius as well before following your steps into the candy-filled store. “And for your information, the time span between leaving us and coming here wouldn’t give us enough time to make it satisfactory.”
Sirius creased his brows in confusion before gaping at his best friend. He looked back at James in shock before watching Remus enter the store with a smirk on his face. “Never in my entire life have I heard Remus John Lupin talk about his game like that.”
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You watched young wizards and witches mess with the candy from the corner of Honeydukes, fiddling with your own sweater. Well, technically it was Remus’ but he gave it to you sometime last year. But as you played with the loose thread, the same guilt came back to gnaw on your feelings.
It was fine when it was only you missing out on the unplanned fun, but when Remus misses out on fun that he could’ve seen made you upset beyond belief. You didn’t think your own behavior could affect Remus this badly. And it’s not like Sirius helped when he asked about you and Remus.
“Dove?” Remus rounded the corner and found you biting the end of your thumbnail, making him sigh. He gently pulled your hand away and met your eyes. “What’s wrong, dovey?”
“Nothing.” You mumbled, wiping your hand on your sweater. You grimaced at the feeling but looked at Remus with solemn eyes. “Where’s the rest of them?”
He laced his hand with yours, squeezing it softly. “They went to Tomes and Scrolls. I think they’re buying gifts? I’m not to sure.”
You frowned, “When did they say that?”
“They didn’t. They were just heading in that direction when I left them.” He brought your hand up and kissed your knuckles. He watched your glazed eyes blink to get rid of the wet. “Talk to me, my love.”
You raised both brows at the name and felt your face warm. It was rare for him to call you his love, so everytime it made you feel like a child in a candy store, which was technically half true given the setting.
“Don’t you think it’s kind of annoying I zone in and out of our conversations with that whole group?” You finally spoke after a good second, fiddling with his fingers in anticipation for his answer. “We never get to do anything fun or on time because of me, and I’m not too sure why you still bother with me because of it—“
“Dovey,” Remus gave you a small smile, tilting his head down fully to speak only loud enough for you. “Do you really think I care what we miss with them? As long as I have you with me, I couldn’t care less.”
You gently squeeze his hand, “Don’t you want to hate me just a little bit?”
“Never.” He kissed your head. “Why would I ever hate you for your quirk? I think it’s cute that you get to immersed in your own world when reading. And you know why I love it so much?”
“Why?” You smile and tilt your head up to perfectly meet his own tilted head.
“Because then I get to hear all about what happens from your beautiful voice.” Remus grinned his wolfish grin, adjusting the sweater you have on. “So don’t worry too much about me missing out on those pricks because they don’t talk about anything worthwhile.”
You roll your eyes and let out a noise of surprise when he softly connects his waiting lips to yours. Instantly, you melt and return the kiss with equal passion before breaking apart, smiling giddily at him.
“What was that for?” You lay your cheek on his shoulder as shyness took over your body, especially with so many people around you both.
“Just love you.” He thumbed your waist now, nudging his chin onto your head softly. “And I wouldn’t want you any other way.”
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©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms
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lxvsiick · 5 months ago
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YOU CAME TO ME, MY ANGEL | PARK SUNGHOON X READER
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SECOND PART TO CALLING ON MY ANGEL (read part one first!)
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PAIRING: troublemaker! park sunghoon x good girl! fem! reader
SUMMARY: When the attention on Sunghoon starts to shift because of his smile, Y/n develops a weird feeling in her stomach.
GENRE: imagine, good girl x bad boy, fluff, a little bit of angst if you squint
WORDCOUNT: 4.6k
WARNING: a kissing scene at the end! sunghoon calls y/n "angel"
A/N: ngl, when i was writing this and rereading it over, the want to sleep on a highway was so tempting :D i'm glad you all like CALLING ON MY ANGEL! i was actually surprised by how many people liked it ,, i hope you like the second part! enjoy!
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˙ ✩°˖🫐 ⋆。˚꩜
The afternoon sun streamed through the tall windows of the school hallways, casting soft, golden light on Y/n as she walked with a noticeable bounce in her step. A bright smile lit up her face, and in her hand was a small cone of ice cream, which she licked contentedly. She looked like a sweet angel, her joyful energy spreading around her like sunshine.
Beside her, Sunghoon walked with his hands stuffed in his pockets, his eyes fixed forward, face blank, like he couldn’t care less about anything happening around him. His usual cold, intimidating presence stood in sharp contrast to the warm light she brought with her. The other students in the hall were wary of him, their eyes lowering as they passed, whispers swirling in the air.
“Isn’t that Sunghoon?”
“He looks so scary...”
“What’s Y/n still doing with him?”
The whispers weren’t lost on Y/n. She could hear the murmurs, feel the stares. Her steps faltered slightly, but then she leaned closer to him, nudging him lightly with her shoulder. Her voice was soft, like a secret meant just for him.
"Just ignore them, Hoonie" she said, her smile unwavering despite the growing tension around them. "They don’t know anything about you."
He glanced at her, expression still unreadable, but there was a flicker of something softer in his eyes. A small sigh left his lips as his gaze flicked back to the students.
"I don’t care what they think," he said, his voice low and casual, as if none of it mattered. His eyes briefly caught hers, a quiet warmth under the tough exterior. "As long as you’re next to me, Angel."
At that moment, her heart skipped a beat, the corners of her lips lifting in a shy smile. She always melted a little when he called her that. Angel—his pet name for her—was something so sweet and personal, it never failed to make her feel special.
But the effect of that single word was much bigger than she realized. The students in the hallway, already whispering, suddenly let out audible gasps. Heads turned, and the once-muted whispers escalated.
"He called her Angel?"
"Did you hear that?"
"What is even happening right now?"
The tension in the air was thick, but Y/n wasn’t fazed. She kept her head high, finishing her ice cream with a bright smile, completely unfazed by the reactions of those around them. Beside her, Sunghoon maintained his calm, unfazed by the stir his simple term of endearment had caused.
In that moment, it didn’t matter to either of them what anyone else thought. It was just them, walking together, as if the rest of the world didn’t exist.
˙ ✩°˖🫐 ⋆。˚꩜
The sun hung high over the quad as Y/n walked with a couple of her friends, laughter and light conversation filling the space between them. They were chatting about random things—weekend plans, a funny moment from class—when her attention shifted to the other side of the quad.
In the distance, she spotted Sunghoon, his familiar, tall figure walking with his group of friends. As usual, students around them kept their distance, their heads low as they moved out of the way. His group, known for their intimidating presence, had that effect on everyone. The air around them felt thicker, quieter—until she broke it.
Without hesitation, she raised her arm and called out, "Hoonie!" Her voice rang out across the open space, bright and cheerful. She waved at him with a big smile, completely oblivious to the attention she had just drawn.
Her shout cut through the noise of the quad. Heads turned, curious eyes following the direction of her gaze. Sunghoon, hearing her voice, paused mid-conversation. His eyes scanned the crowd before locking onto her. For a moment, his usual cool expression lingered, but then, unexpectedly, his lips curved into a small smile. He raised his hand, giving her a soft wave back.
That single smile—the rare, fleeting expression—seemed to shift the very atmosphere around him. The students, who were accustomed to seeing his stoic, unreadable face, were stunned.
"Did he just… smile?"
"I’ve never seen him smile before…"
"Wait, that’s what he looks like when he smiles?"
Whispers erupted among the crowd as they began to murmur in disbelief. The quad buzzed with low, shocked conversations as people exchanged glances. Some students stood frozen, processing what they'd just seen. For the first time, Sunghoon, the one they'd always viewed as cold and unapproachable, looked human.
"He’s… kind of handsome, isn’t he?" one girl whispered, nudging her friend.
"Yeah, I never noticed before, but with that smile…"
It wasn’t just the smile—it was the way he looked at Y/n, the way his expression softened, just for her. There was something so genuine in that moment, and for many of the students watching, it completely shattered the tough, distant image they had built of him.
The shift in perception was palpable. As Y/n continued walking, her friends giggling beside her, she had no idea that the simple wave and smile had sparked a quiet change. The students who had once feared or misunderstood him were now seeing a different side—a warmer, more human side—thanks to her.
˙ ✩°˖🫐 ⋆。˚꩜
The next day, the atmosphere around Sunghoon had noticeably changed. Walking side by side, Y/n chattered away about random things as he escorted her to her class. Though her words bounced around with lively energy, his focus never wavered from her, watching her intently, soaking in every detail of her presence.
As they moved through the hallway, something was different. The students, who used to avoid eye contact or shy away when he passed, were behaving… differently. No longer did they lower their heads or shuffle nervously to the side. Instead, some even made brief eye contact and gave short, polite nods of acknowledgment.
"Hey, Sunghoon," a student greeted as they walked by.
He didn’t respond verbally but gave a subtle nod back, his attention still centered on Y/n.
What really caught him off guard was when a couple of girls from another class shyly waved at him as they passed. "Good morning, Sunghoon!" one of them chirped.
Again, he acknowledged them with a small nod but didn't waver from his focus. His priority was always her. The smile he had shared the day before had sparked a shift in how people saw him, but he barely noticed. All he cared about was the angel walking beside him.
Unbothered by the newfound attention, he listened as Y/n talked animatedly about her latest interest. To him, the hallways might as well have been empty, because the only thing that mattered was hearing her voice, seeing her smile.
When they finally reached her classroom, they came to a stop in front of the door. She turned to face him, her eyes bright as she smiled up at him. "Thanks for walking me to class," she said, her tone warm and filled with gratitude.
His lips curled into a rare, soft smile reserved just for her. He raised his hand, gently patting her head in a gesture that had become second nature by now. "No problem, Angel," he said in that low, calm voice of his. "I'll come get you after class so we can go to lunch together."
Her cheeks flushed slightly at the pet name, but she nodded happily. "Sounds good!" she replied with a grin before turning toward the classroom.
As she disappeared through the door, he lingered for a moment, watching her go with a fondness that was impossible to miss. Then, with his usual composed demeanor, he turned and made his way back down the hall, the whispers and greetings of his classmates now background noise to his thoughts of her.
˙ ✩°˖🫐 ⋆。˚꩜
After Sunghoon left her at the door, Y/n walked to her desk and sat down, pulling out her notebook and pens, preparing for the class ahead. She hummed a little under her breath, replaying the moment he'd patted her head. It was always sweet, the way he had his reserved moments only for her.
The quiet of the classroom was soon interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching her desk. She looked up and saw a group of three girls standing in front of her. Their expressions were friendly, but there was a hint of curiosity glimmering in their eyes. One of them, a girl with short, dark hair, Hana, spoke first.
"Hey, Y/n, right?" she asked, her tone friendly but direct.
She nodded, smiling politely. "Yeah, that's me. What’s up?"
The three exchanged a quick glance before the girl continued, "We were wondering… about Sunghoon. He’s always walking with you. What’s he like?"
Caught off guard by the sudden interest, Y/n blinked, her pen hovering over her notebook. She wasn't used to people asking her about him—most students were too afraid to even mention him in passing. But after yesterday’s smile in the quad, she supposed it was natural for some curiosity to grow.
"Um, he’s…" She hesitated, thinking of how to describe him. "He’s actually really nice once you get to know him. He’s just... quiet around others."
The second girl, with blonde hair tied in a ponytail, Jihye, leaned in a bit closer. "You mean he's not as scary as he looks? I mean, without all the bruises and cuts, he's actually really handsome."
Y/n felt her heart do a little flip at the comment. Handsome? She supposed she’d always known that, but hearing it from someone else felt... strange. "Yeah," she answered, smiling softly. "He’s definitely different when you get to know him."
The third girl, the quietest of the group, Sola, suddenly asked, "So, is he talking to anyone? Or, like... dating someone?" Her eyes widened with curiosity as she leaned forward, clearly eager for the answer.
Y/n froze for a moment, unsure of what to say. She wasn’t dating him, not officially, but the two of them were undeniably close. She could feel the weird sensation bubbling in her chest—a feeling she couldn't quite name. Was it jealousy? But why would she be jealous?
Trying to stay composed, she gave a gentle shrug. "I’m not really sure. We don’t talk about that much."
Jihye sighed in relief. "That’s good. I was hoping he wasn’t seeing anyone because..." She paused and exchanged another glance with her friends. "Would you mind introducing me to him? I’ve been wanting to talk to him, but he’s, well... hard to approach. You seem to know him really well."
The strange feeling in Y/n's stomach tightened into something more distinct—an uneasy knot. She wasn't sure why, but the thought of introducing someone to him, especially a girl who clearly found him attractive, made her chest tighten. Still, she kept her smile soft, trying to hide her discomfort.
"I can try," she said, her voice gentle. "He’s... a bit reserved with new people, but I’ll see what I can do."
The three girls beamed, clearly thrilled by her answer. "Thanks, Y/n! You’re the best," Hana said, before the group finally walked back to their seats.
As they left, Y/n stared down at her notebook, her pen resting idly in her hand. That weird feeling wouldn’t go away, and she didn’t know why. Was she... jealous? She shook her head slightly, trying to push the thought away. It didn’t make sense. But as she sat there, thinking about introducing someone else to him, she couldn’t shake the unease that now lingered in her chest.
˙ ✩°˖🫐 ⋆。˚꩜
The lunch bell rang, signaling a break in the day. Y/n was still sitting at her desk, lost in thought. The conversation from earlier with the three girls had left her feeling unsettled. She was mulling over their questions about Sunghoon, when a familiar voice broke through her reverie.
"Hey, Angel," Sunghoon called softly from the doorway of her classroom, hands casually in his pockets, his usual blank expression on his face. "You ready for lunch?"
Snapped out of her thoughts, she blinked and smiled up at him, gathering her things before walking over. "Yeah, let’s go."
They walked side by side through the hallways, a familiar rhythm to their steps. But Sunghoon quickly noticed something was off. Y/n wasn’t her usual bubbly self, and her expression was distant, as if she was caught up in her thoughts again.
He glanced down at her, frowning slightly. "What are you thinking about?"
His voice pulled her out of her thoughts, and she looked up at him, blinking. "Huh?"
"You’re quiet today. What’s on your mind?" he asked, his tone soft but curious.
She hesitated for a moment before speaking. "I was just wondering... what do you think about making new friends?"
Sunghoon let out a small, amused snort, his lips quirking into a brief smile. "Don’t care. I’ve got my boys and you. That’s all I need."
Her heart skipped a beat, and she felt her cheeks flush. She wasn’t sure why, but his simple words—so direct and clear—made her feel warm inside. "Oh," she murmured, feeling slightly flustered. "That’s... sweet."
They continued walking, but the knot in her stomach, the one that had been brewing since this morning, tightened as they approached the cafeteria.
After they grabbed their lunches, they made their way to their usual table, where Sunghoon's friends were already gathered. The atmosphere was comfortable, familiar, but the tension inside her didn’t ease.
As they sat down, though, a voice interrupted the peaceful moment.
"Y/n!" came a call, cheerful and bright.
Jihye, from this morning, the one who had asked her about Sunghoon, appeared beside the table with her lunch tray in hand. She smiled widely, as if they were old friends, and without waiting for an invitation, asked, "Mind if I sit with you guys?"
True to her sweet, angelic nature, Y/n couldn’t bring herself to refuse, even though she felt a surge of that strange emotion bubble up inside her. "Uh, sure," she said, offering a polite smile.
The girl didn’t hesitate and took the empty seat—right next to Sunghoon. His friends exchanged knowing glances, but no one said anything.
As they began to eat, Sunghoon's attention was solely on his lunch, but the girl seemed determined to pull him into conversation.
"So, Sunghoon, do you like any sports?" she asked, her eyes bright with interest.
He barely looked up, responding with a curt, "No."
Unfazed, she tried again. "Do you hang out with your friends often after school?"
"Sometimes," he said, his tone flat.
The girl wasn’t deterred by his short answers. She continued asking him question after question, her tone almost flirty, though Sunghoon didn’t seem the least bit interested. His answers grew shorter, and eventually, he stopped answering altogether, merely shrugging or nodding when necessary.
All the while, Y/n sat quietly in her seat, picking at her lunch. Her usual bright energy was dulled, replaced by that growing, unfamiliar feeling in her chest. She wasn’t sure what to call it—jealousy? Frustration? Whatever it was, it made her stomach twist uncomfortably as she listened to the girl chatter away at Sunghoon.
His friends exchanged amused looks, clearly sensing the awkwardness in the air. Jake nudged Jay with a smirk, and he raised an eyebrow.
Finally, the lunch period was almost over, and Y/n couldn’t help but feel a small sense of relief. As the bell rang, she quickly stood up, grabbing her tray. "We should head to class," she said softly.
Sunghoon stood as well, ignoring the girl’s lingering presence and focusing solely on Y/n. "Let’s go, Angel," he said, his voice low and calm.
The girl’s face fell slightly, but Y/n hardly noticed. Her mind was too focused on the odd, swirling emotion that had taken root inside her. She couldn’t help but feel like something had changed—and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it.
˙ ✩°˖🫐 ⋆。˚꩜
The hum of the engine filled the comfortable silence inside Sunghoon's car. Normally, the drive home from school was filled with the sound of Y/n chatting away about her day, excitedly sharing the details of her classes, her small victories, or even her frustrations. But today was different.
She was quiet—too quiet.
Glancing over at her in the passenger seat, Sunghoon noticed the way she was staring out the window, her eyes distant and lost in thought. Her hands, usually expressive as she spoke, were still in her lap, fingers fidgeting slightly.
His brow furrowed in concern. Something was bothering her, and he could tell.
Instead of driving straight to her house, he took a detour, turning the wheel in the direction of the small park near her home. The moment he pulled into the parking lot and cut the engine, the sudden stillness seemed to snap her out of her thoughts. She blinked and looked around, realizing they weren’t at her house.
"Why are we here?" she asked, her voice soft, almost distant.
Sunghoon turned in his seat to face her, his gaze steady and gentle. "Angel," he began, his tone low and soothing, "what's wrong? You’ve been quiet all day. I know something’s bothering you."
Her lips parted as if to say something, but she hesitated, her eyes dropping to her hands. For a moment, she fidgeted in her seat, unsure of how to put her feelings into words. But Sunghoon waited patiently, his gaze never wavering.
Finally, she sighed and looked back up at him. "It’s... it’s nothing, really. It’s just..." She trailed off again, struggling.
"Angel, you can talk to me," he encouraged, his voice soft.
She bit her lip, then took a deep breath. "Okay. Yesterday, after you walked me to class, some girls came up to me and... they asked me about you."
He raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue.
"They asked me about what you’re like," she explained, her fingers twisting together in her lap. "And then one of them—she asked me if I could... introduce her to you."
At that, Sunghoon frowned, his eyes narrowing slightly in confusion. "And?"
"I didn’t know what to say," she admitted. "I couldn’t refuse because, well, I didn’t want to be rude. But... I wanted to refuse. I wanted to say no. And ever since then, I’ve had this weird feeling in my stomach, like..." She trailed off, searching for the right words.
"Like what?" he asked gently, his voice calm and soothing.
She sighed, shaking her head. "I don’t know... like I don’t want anyone else to get close to you. It’s stupid, I know, but it just... bothered me."
For a moment, the car was quiet as her words hung in the air. Then, Sunghoon let out a small, playful chuckle. "Angel," he said, a teasing grin spreading across his face, "are you jealous?"
Y/n’s eyes widened, and her cheeks flushed a deep red. "What? No!" she protested, lightly smacking his arm in embarrassment. But her blush betrayed her.
He laughed softly, shaking his head. "You don’t have to lie. It’s okay if you’re jealous. It’s kind of cute, actually."
She groaned and covered her face with her hands, her blush growing deeper. "I don’t know what I’m feeling," she mumbled through her fingers. "Maybe I am jealous. I just... I don’t like the idea of other people wanting to get close to you like that."
His playful grin softened into a tender smile as he reached out and gently took her hand in his. The warmth of his touch calmed her slightly, and she peeked out from behind her hands.
"Angel," he said softly, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand, "no one could ever replace you. I don’t want anyone else but you. I’m yours. Okay?"
Her heart swelled at his words, and she finally dropped her hands from her face, meeting his gaze. His eyes were warm and sincere, full of affection. A small, shy smile tugged at her lips.
"Okay," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
For a moment, they simply sat there, hands intertwined, the weight of her worries slowly lifting. She felt silly for being jealous, but his reassurance made her feel better—like everything was going to be okay.
With a soft squeeze of her hand, Sunghoon smiled again. "Now, are you ready to go home? Or should we stay here a little longer so you can keep being jealous over me?"
She laughed softly, rolling her eyes. "Let’s go home, Hoonie."
With one last squeeze of her hand, he started the car and pulled out of the park, the tension between them melting away as they drove in comfortable silence.
˙ ✩°˖🫐 ⋆。˚꩜
The hallways were bustling with students as Sunghoon walked alongside his six friends, his hands tucked casually into his pockets. They surrounded him, their voices a mix of laughter and banter as they discussed their morning classes and plans for later. Though he was in the center, Sunghoon wasn’t really engaging, just listening with a relaxed, blank expression.
Suddenly, Jihye stepped into their path, her bright smile directed solely at him. His friends quieted down, their attention shifting to her as she confidently strode up and stopped in front of him.
He came to a halt, the rest of his friends following suit, and looked down at her with an uninterested stare. His posture didn’t change, still nonchalant, but his eyes gave nothing away.
“Hi,” she greeted, her voice sweet and almost too eager. "You know, you’re not as scary as everyone says you are." She grinned wider. "Actually, I think you’re really handsome."
His friends exchanged amused glances, some of them snickering at the bold compliment. Jake elbowed Jay lightly, trying not to laugh out loud, but Sunghoon remained stone-faced, unmoved by her words.
“Thanks," he said flatly, the word carrying no emotion whatsoever.
Encouraged by what she perceived as an opening, the girl stepped a little closer, her confidence growing. "So, I was thinking... maybe we could hang out sometime? Go on a date?"
The air shifted. His friends went quiet, waiting for his response, some of them already stifling laughter, knowing exactly how this was going to go.
Without missing a beat, Sunghoon looked her dead in the eyes, his voice cold and blunt. "I’m not interested," he said simply, his words like a slap in the face. He didn’t even soften the blow. "And I never will be."
His rejection was firm and absolute, and her face fell slightly, the confident smile wavering.
Before she could even recover, he continued, his tone sharp now. "Stop bothering Y/n about me. Leave her alone."
Jihye's expression soured at the mention of Y/n, and her posture stiffened. Clearly offended, she crossed her arms and glared up at him. "Her?" she sneered. "You’d rather be with someone like her? She’s nothing special."
That was it.
The air around Sunghoon changed in an instant, his relaxed stance becoming tense. He took a step closer to her, his towering figure casting a shadow over her. His jaw clenched, and his gaze hardened into a menacing glare.
“Say that again,” he challenged, his voice low and threatening.
Her eyes widened, clearly taken aback by the sudden shift in his demeanor. She swallowed hard but held her ground. “I-I’m just saying—”
He cut her off, his voice ice-cold. "Don’t insult her. Not ever again."
The threat was clear, and she realized quickly that she’d crossed a line. His friends stood silently behind him, watching the scene unfold but not interfering, their faces reflecting the same unreadable expressions.
“You think you can just walk up to me and insult someone I care about? You’re not worth my time, and you’re definitely not worth hers." His eyes narrowed, and he leaned down slightly, his words sharp as a knife. "So, get lost."
Stunned and clearly humiliated, the girl stumbled back, her face flushed with anger and embarrassment. She glanced around at his friends, who were watching her with barely concealed amusement, and then back at him. She opened her mouth to say something but thought better of it and turned on her heel, storming away in a huff.
As she disappeared down the hallway, Heeseung broke the silence with a low whistle. "Man, she didn’t stand a chance, did she?"
Jay laughed, shaking his head. "I almost feel bad for her. Almost."
But Sunghoon wasn’t interested in the jokes. His expression was still hardened as he stared after her retreating figure, but after a moment, he let out a long breath, shoving his hands back into his pockets.
Jake nudged him playfully. "Guess she knows now not to mess with Y/n."
"She better," he muttered, his gaze softening only slightly as he turned away and resumed walking.
˙ ✩°˖🫐 ⋆。˚꩜
The sun was starting to set as Sunghoon drove through the familiar streets, the hum of the engine a calming presence. Beside him, in the passenger seat, Y/n was happily chatting away, her voice light as she recounted the events of her day. Her words were full of the small details—her classes, something funny one of her friends said, and the little things she noticed on her walk to school.
She was radiant when she spoke, her face lighting up with every new story, and Sunghoon couldn’t help but watch her as he drove, a soft smile tugging at his lips. The world outside seemed to blur into the background; all that mattered was the sound of her voice and the way her eyes sparkled.
As they approached the park, he turned the steering wheel and pulled into the parking lot, the car coming to a gentle stop under the shade of a large tree. They’d been here before, a quiet place where they could steal a few moments together away from everything else.
“Let’s hang out here for a bit,” he said as he turned off the car.
She looked over at him with a smile, nodding as she continued talking, this time about something one of her classmates did during lunch. He leaned back in his seat, one arm resting on the wheel, the other draped casually across his lap as he listened intently to every word she said.
But after a while, Y/n noticed the way he was staring at her—his eyes warm, focused entirely on her, as if she was the only thing that mattered. Her words faltered for a second, a light blush creeping onto her cheeks as she realized he wasn’t just listening; he was captivated.
“What?” she asked, her voice soft and a little shy.
He didn’t say anything at first, just kept staring, the intensity of his gaze making her heart race. Then, slowly, he leaned in closer, his face mere inches from hers. The quiet rustle of the park’s leaves surrounded them, but in that moment, it felt like the world had stilled.
His voice was soft, almost a whisper. “Can I kiss you?”
Her breath hitched, her blush deepening as her eyes flicked from his lips to his eyes. She swallowed, feeling the warmth of his closeness, and after a second, she gave a small, shy nod.
That was all the confirmation Sunghoon needed.
In one smooth, gentle motion, he closed the remaining distance between them, his lips capturing hers in a soft, tender kiss. It was sweet, unhurried, like they had all the time in the world. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she felt her heart swell, her hands coming up to lightly rest on his arm as they shared the moment, lost in the quiet intimacy of the park.
˙ ✩°˖🫐 ⋆。˚꩜
PART ONE | CALLING ON MY ANGEL
MASTERLIST
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© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, lxvsiick, 2024
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taeyongdoyoung · 6 months ago
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wolf and bunny
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summary: you ask your best friend to fuck you in your sleep but your bottled up feelings come out to the surface... pairing: chan x reader genre: smut, best friends to lovers warnings: cnc/somnophilia, discussion of boundaries, eating out, touching, groping, unprotected sex, spanking, stranger+wolf/bunny roleplay, little red riding hood references, face-slapping (once), size kink, cockwarming, multiple rounds, feelings (ew), pet names, discussion of future scenario 👀 (i know i said this is the end but...we'll see) author's note: hii everyone, this is the third and final part of my wolf and bunny series, thank you so much for going on this nasty journey with me 🤍 part one & part two word count: 2k
You and Chan are having a bit of a disagreement in connection with the circumstances surrounding your next game.
“But I want to know exactly which night you’ll do it.”
“If you know, you won’t be able to fall asleep,” Chan reasons with you. “Kinda like Santa Claus. Kids stay up all night waiting for him and then he never comes.”
“Please, even if the kids were asleep, he’d still never come ‘cause the parents are putting the presents under the tree!”
“It was just a metaphor.”
“A bad one. You’re gonna have to work harder to convince me.”
“Hey, wasn’t this your idea in the first place?” Chan reminds you teasingly. “You’re the one who wants me to fuck her in her sleep.”
“Ey, don’t pretend you won’t be into it,” you shake your head.
You are both so stubborn you don’t see this ending unless one of you retreats. Then, after a brief consideration, you speak again.
“Fine. You can keep the secret of the exact night you’ll do this. On one condition.”
“Sure, bunny, let’s hear it,” Chan listens eagerly.
“If I wake up, you won’t stop. I’ll just pretend I’m still sleepy and we keep going.”
“Is that even possible? I mean, for you to not wake up?”
“It is if you drug me or something,” you shrug.
“Ugh, don’t give me such evil ideas. You never know when I might take advantage of you.”
“Oh, I’m counting on it, wolfie.”
“But are you sure the sleep thing is a great idea? I mean, you wouldn't be able to say a safeword...” Chan can't help but worry, always putting your needs first and planning every scenario in great detail to make sure you're alright. Damnit, could he get any more perfect? He's so sweet and considerate you wish you could just tell him how you feel. But what if that scares him away? What if you lose not only your wicked game buddy but your best friend in the entire world? You wouldn't be able to live with yourself.
“Yes, I'm positive, Chris,” you place your hand on top of his. “I trust you 100% and know that you'll look after me. The question is, do you trust my judgement?”
“I mean, I do trust you. It's just that last time you didn't communicate your discomfort clearly and I wouldn't want to risk messing up to the point of accidentally hurting you,” Chan verbalizes his anxieties.
“I get what you're saying but it's not like I'm open to doing this with a stranger. It's you we're talking about. You've always been great at taking care of people so I know you wouldn't go too far. But at the same time, I wouldn't mind if you went loose. If anyone can take it and accept you fully, it would be me.”
“Yeah, I know. You're right. But just in case, I want you to know beforehand that I care about you and respect you like a lot. So, even if I get carried away, I still want you to feel safe.”
“Aww, Chris, ya old softie! I always feel safe with you, it goes without saying!” you insist.
“Well, I like hearing you say it.”
You gulp nervously. His voice is so commanding and yet so reassuring that your words have never rung truer. He's more to you than a safety net and you hope he knows it. He's incredibly thoughtful and infinitely kinder than the first impression. He's a riddle in the way he keeps surprising you and yet you wanna keep learning more about him. He's hundreds of the loveliest words in the dictionary multiplied. He's more comforting than your favourite blanket. He's warmth personified and you would be an idiot to let him go.
“I'll try to say it more often, then,” you promise. “When I'm with you, I know no harm will come my way. But here's the thing...you're the only one I'd willingly let hurt me.”
“I don't want to hurt you, though.”
“You don't?” you pout, suddenly feeling guilty. Then, what have you been doing? Was he forcing himself to act out these fantasies for your sake alone? You genuinely thought he was enjoying them as much as you were.
“Sorry, that came out wrong,” Chan is quick to explain. “I like our games. I meant that I don't want to hurt you emotionally. Ever.”
“Ah, yeah, that makes sense,” you chuckle, feeling a little stupid. “Well, you don't need to worry about that. Glad we had this talk.”
“Me too,” Chan gazes at you fondly.
“So, which night are you fucking me while I'm asleep?” you attempt to find out while he has this dazed look in his eye.
“Next- Hey, nice try! I'm not telling you, you impatient devil.”
“Aw, man, I was so close,” you bemoan the uncertainty of your future.
“You wish.”
The long-awaited night finally arrives. Chan has a key to your place so entering it is too easy. He makes sure he picks a night when you’ve complained about being exhausted and sleepy all day long. And he is certain that you’re passed out in your room, not suspecting a thing. Well, a part of you is always anticipating what could happen, but still.
He’s beyond glad to find you sound asleep. You’re wearing nothing but a t-shirt and some flimsy panties. Chan admires your sleeping form for a couple of brief moments before he gets down to business.
He wonders where to start. Should he tear them up? Or maybe push them to the side? Should he grope your boobs through your shirt? Or perhaps slide his hands beneath it, stroking your nipples directly? So many opportunities. He wants to do everything, he decides.
Chan starts by moving your panties to the side and licking your tiny pussy. He touches you with his fingers, gently prodding your entrance but not exactly sticking them inside yet. Then, he sneaks his hand underneath your shirt, teasing your nipples. Fuck, you’re so soft.
He marvels at the knowledge that you’d trust him with something like that. Though the previous scenarios were hot and intense as fuck, this one hits different for him. Maybe because last time you were awake, you were still in control because you could say the safeword whenever. Maybe because you want him at your most vulnerable even in your sleep. Or maybe because he’s slowly falling for you, but he doesn’t know how to say it.
It’s okay. Chan’ll show you, instead. He pinches your nipples lightly and continues to make out with your pussy. You are so wet already it’s adorable. He wonders if you’re dreaming of him, as you shift slightly in your sleep. He wants to drag this out. But how?
He uses his nails to trace circles on your skin, which causes goosebumps to appear. Are you cold? He wants to keep you warm and full at all times. Chan can’t take it any longer and takes his cock out, sliding in so perfectly. As if you were made for him. Made to take his cock and let him do crazy things to you. His sweet little bunny…
You moan desperately and the spell is broken. You’re awake. He wanders if you’ll speak or he’ll have to make you. Both options sound quite appealing. But he wants to hear your voice more than anything.
“Shhh, go back to sleep, sweetheart,” Chan whispers gently.
“W-who are you?” you cry out.
Aw, you’re gonna pretend not to know him? That hurts. But it can be fun, he thinks.
“Just the big bad wolf,” he chuckles at the irony of it.
“Please, don't do this,” you fake not wanting it, even though you've never wanted anything so badly in your life.
“Oh, bunny, but I already am,” Chan replies, spanking your ass a couple of times in the meantime.
“G-gonna split me in h-half,” you mumble, voice muffled against your pillow.
“Yeah? G'na ruin my sweet girl?” he speaks to you so softly you want to melt right there and then.
“Feel so full 'n so s'eepy,” you slur helplessly.
“Aw, tiny, go back to sleep, then,” Chan pats your head soothingly.
“Can't. What a deep voice you have!” you play along too well.
“All the better to degrade you with, my slutty bun,” Chan laughs, while still continuing to fuck you.
“What big hands you have!” you keep saying.
“All the better to grab your tits with,” Chan chuckles and makes good on his promise by playing with your boobs.
“And slap me with!” you remind him playfully.
“As you wish, princess,” Chan growls and slaps you across the face harshly but not harsh enough to actually leave a mark.
“What big eyes you have,” you sigh wistfully.
“All the better to stare at you fall apart,” Chan responds cleverly.
“And what big cock you have!” you scream, barely resisting the urge to laugh. Are you a silly little bunny or Little Red Riding Hood? At this point, you don't care, but it feels too good regardless.
“All the better to fuck you with,” he grunts loudly, spilling inside of you.
You follow rightaway and urge him to stay like this for a while. Maybe round two is in order?
“You know what else is big?” Chan teases you.
“Oh, shut up, Bigfoot!” you reply and are no longer able to hold it in, breaking into laughter. Chan also finds the interaction hilarious and buries his head in the nook of your shoulder. You stroke his hair without realizing. Shit, he's so adorable you almost say the three words. Is it too risky? Too soon? You need a distraction. You need... “Fuck me again.”
“Already? Aren't you tired?” Chan wants to make sure.
“Fuck me till I fall asleep again,” you ask him.
“Um, okay, sure,” Chan looks a bit confused but does as you ask.
This time there is less talking and more fucking but no matter how many rounds you go, sleep doesn't come again. You both orgasm more times than you could count, but somehow, it isn't nearly enough to distract you from the inevitable. You love him. Your heart knows it, your pussy knows it, even your brain knows it but is stubborny telling you not to confess for fear of somehow ruining things.
Once Chan decides he's completely spent for the night, he pulls out of you and rips off the bandaid.
“Are you alright? Something suddenly shifted but I can't quite place it,” he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and nudges you softly with his shoulder.
“Do you want the truth that might mess up everything or do you want me to lie to you and say I'm fine?” you ask, even though you're already on the verge to tell the truth.
“With you? Always the truth, please,” Chan clearly states his preference.
You sigh deeply and tilt to the side so you're facing him properly.
“I think...no, I know I love you.”
“I love you, too, babybun,” Chan responds fondly and kisses you on the nose.
“In a non-friendly way. And I don't mean just sexually, either. I mean, the friendly way and the sexual way haven't diminished, of course. But I also love you in a...I want to be yours, your girlfriend, your lover, your romantic partner, your everything.”
Chan is taken aback by your words. You...feel the same?
“You already are,” he confesses genuinely.
“Huh?” you blink in shock.
“I mean...you are already my everything. But, if you'd like me to officially ask you, then...will you be my girlfriend, angel?”
“You...you'll have me?” you are still in disbelief.
“I thought I already had ya,” Chan pinches your cheeks lightly.
“Damn right you do, Mr. Wolf,” you giggle and pull him into a kiss.
He smells like autumn, his embrace exudes warmth and his lips taste like home.
“You have no idea how badly I've wanted to tell you about my feelings,” Chan confesses. “When I found that story of yours in your drafts, I just couldn't resist the opportunity. I hoped that if I turned your fantasies into reality that you'd eventually fall for me.”
“Oh, Channie...I've been falling for you for longer than you realize,” you admit shyly. “How could I not? You're everything I've ever wanted.”
So, this is what it feels like to have the world in your hands. Huh. You could get used to it.
Bonus:
“No, I'm not kidnapping you!” Chan is adamant as you two sit in a nice restaurant.
“But Chriiiis,” you whine. “You said you'd do anything for my birthday.”
“Anything but that!” Chan shakes his head in amusement.
“Why not? It can be fun!”
“Fun? What if something goes wrong, what if someone sees us and thinks I'm actually kidnapping you, what if...hear me out, here, I go to prison for it?”
“Well, duh, then I'd bail you out!”
“As if you could afford it,” Chan rolls his eyes.
“Hey! But seriously, I'll just tell the cops that I asked you to kidnap me.”
“What if they don't believe you and think you have a Stockholm syndrome?”
“I'll...think of something. Come on, we're going too far with the what-ifs.”
“You gotta be prepared for any situation. You'd know that if you carried the heavy burden of being a dom,” Chan tsks at you.
“I'd know that if you let me,” you give him a wink.
“That will only happen the day I agree to fake-kidnap you.”
“So, tomorrow? It's a date!” you grin excitedly.
“Keep dreaming, darling.”
“Oh, I will.”
The End
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smut-anarchy · 3 months ago
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Crybaby
Soft!Mattheo Riddle x Hufflepuff!Fem!Reader
Warnings: Some mild swears, nothing spicy... for now.
Summary: Every time Mattheo sees you cry and falls in love with you for it.
A/N: This is my first fic EVER! I was too excited to get it proof read by my bestie so all mistakes are my own. Check the tags at the end for a funny surprise.
Word Count: 7,300+ (Sorry, I went crazy)
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Mattheo had never been one of those who could be influenced by tears. With who his father was he learned very quickly as a child that tears equated to weakness, and weakness was never allowed. 
Even at times where previous flings had sobbed after being tossed aside or cried for cuddles after sex, it didn’t move him. After all, he’d always made it clear that he wasn’t a romantic. He’d have his fun and move on, he never gave any indication that it would be more meaningful than that. Because of this he’d been called a “cold hearted bastard” more times than he could count. 
Which is why the first time he saw you cry he swore something was wrong with him. Seeing your puffy, red cheeks, your quivering, plump bottom limp and wide, watery eyes he felt like someone sent a stinging hex right to his gut. Your eyes were trained right on a laughing Enzo. 
Now it wasn’t completely uncommon for Enzo to make a girl cry. After all, he too would flirt his way into one of their classmates beds from time to time. Though Enzo prided himself on having a kind, prince-like persona publicly, so he kept all of his trysts and crying ex-lovers deeply hidden from public view. So it was unusual for Enzo to be seen with a crying girl in public, right in the middle of the hallway near the potions classroom. 
The closer Mattheo got the clearer he could see that you had not actually cried yet. Your eyes were full of unshed tears, and by the look of your puffed up cheeks and bitten bottom lip you were clearly attempting not to cry. Oddly to him, this didn’t lessen the weird sensation in his stomach. It only made him slightly angry at his friend for a reason he couldn’t even name. 
Your eyes flickered to him for a brief moment before settling back on a smiling Enzo. 
“Fine,” you said in a defeated tone, “You win. You can borrow my notes for Transfiguration. But this is the last time Enzo!”
Enzo’s smile widened as he picked you up in an embrace and spun you around. Immediately your face brightened and your giggles echoed in the empty hallway.
“That’s my favorite Hufflepuff!” Enzo teased, ruffling your hair, “Next time just agree before you lose another bet and turn into a little crybaby.” 
Your giggles turned into a playful pout, “Hey! You cheated! You have longer legs than I do! And the staircase moved on my way down! You’d cry too if you ran as much as I did and still lost.” 
Enzo let out a chuckle and shook his head, “Well maybe don’t propose a race next time. It was your idea after all. I play quidditch love, there isn’t a world in which you win against me.”  
“Whatever, I’ll win the next bet, you’ll see!” 
You stuck your tongue out at Enzo and turned around, walking away from Enzo much more cheerfully than Mattheo expected for a girl whose eyes were bursting with tears when he walked into this hallway. 
“In your dreams love!” Enzo called after you, earning a swift middle finger from behind your back. Mattheo stopped behind Enzo, pure confusion over witnessing the entire interaction between you two. The assumption that you were one of Enzo’s fangirls or jilted ex-lovers was clearly off the table, but he still couldn’t make sense of the welled up tears in your eyes.
“Girl trouble Enz?” Mattheo hummed, curiosity thoroughly peaked by you and the strange feelings you brought on. 
Enzo, now aware that Mattheo had witnessed the entire exchange smirked, “Nah, nothing like that. She’s just fun to tease, is all.” And with that Enzo ducked into the Potions classroom, leaving Mattheo not entirely satisfied with the answer. Nonetheless, he brushed off his gut feelings and whatever thoughts swirled in his head. He likely wouldn’t have an opportunity to interact with you again, he and his friends never kept one girl around too long, even if she was entertaining. 
Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he followed after Enzo to their table in class. 
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When Mattheo entered the Slytherin common room after smoking in the Astronomy Tower he was not prepared to find you on the couch with Enzo, this time actually crying. Though you were also laughing hysterically because Enzo happened to be tickling your feet. 
“How dare you! How dare you say I’m not your favorite Slytherin!” Enzo chided, gleeful smile on his face as he tickled the sock covered soles of your feet. He slowed to a stop, holding your ankles in his lap to keep you from escaping. 
“I didn’t say you weren’t!” You giggled, voice breathless because of your laughter, “I said I don’t know the other Slytherins so I can’t pick a favorite!” 
Enzo smirked, “Not good enough!”, and with that he resumed tickling your feet. Your laughter and squeals bouncing around the common room. 
Mattheo couldn’t help but stare, he and the guys never brought girls to the dorms, and certainly never sat together in the common room. Your yellow skirt and robe were a beacon in the dark and cold that was the Slytherin common room, Salazar Slytherin himself would have a conniption if he saw a giggling Hufflepuff on the couch. And yet, there you were with Enzo, both laughing as if this was not peculiar at all. 
“Say it! Say I’m your favorite!” Enzo demanded, his fingers still torturing the pads of your feet. 
“Okay!” You laughed, “Enzo is my favorite Slytherin!” You were attempting to wiggle your ankles free from Enzo’s grasp and escape the tickling torture but Enzo kept an iron grip, not satisfied with your answer. 
“And?” 
“And I’ll always share my notes with him!” You squealed, completely out of breath from all the laughter. Enzo, seemingly satisfied with your answer finally released your feet, which you immediately tucked under your lap, still wheezing from laughter. 
“Enzo,” you huffed, “You’re a spoiled brat, you know that?” 
“You love it, crybaby.” Enzo winked. His head turned and noticed Mattheo staring at them, still trying to make sense of the scene before him. “Mattheo! Come here, meet my little Hufflepuff!” 
Mattheo strode over and sat on the chair opposite to them, eyes flickering between the two of them. The addition of his presence made you seem more shy now, as if you were embarrassed to be caught with Enzo like this, you refused to make eye contact with him and your cheeks were a little blushed. 
“Y/N this is Mattheo, Mattheo this is Y/N. She’s my transfiguration partner and the cutest girl in Hogwarts.” 
Your blush seemed to bloom even redder from the compliment. But your eyes shyly made contact with him and a soft smile graced your face. 
“Hi, ignore Enzo, he’s just trying to get into my good graces after tickle torturing me and making me tutor him for two hours.” 
Mattheo muttered a low ‘hello’ and quietly trudged to his room, door slamming with much more force than he intended. His heart was pounding and he felt surge of envy towards Enzo. 
Enzo was right, you were cute, and even though your face was streaked with laughter induced tears and wild hair from wiggling on the couch, Mattheo thought you looked adorable. He’d never thought that tears could be cute before, but there you were with a soft smile and bubbling laughter. These thoughts and feelings were all new to him, it made him feel suffocated and embarrassed, but he was Mattheo Riddle for Salazar’s Sake! Mattheo Riddle doesn’t run from anything, let alone cute girls. Yet he knew he couldn’t just sit there under your pretty gaze and risk making a fool of himself. Enzo would never let him live it down.
Outside in the common room he could hear you ask Enzo if you said something wrong. Now he felt like an asshole, of course you were too sweet to think he was the problem. Mattheo closed his eyes and flopped onto his bed. He could hear Enzo comfort you, saying ‘Mattheo’s just an ass’ and offering to walk you back to your dorm. 
For whatever reason, hearing that made him sort of agitated. He wanted to walk you to your dorm, and he’d be his usual charming self and make you laugh and blush, then you’d direct your smile at him and maybe that’d make him feel better. Maybe he’d even kiss you, and that thought warmed him in a different way. Mattheo groaned, just thinking of kissing you burned his mind with other ideas, less innocent things with you, where your sweet, shy smile turned into something sultry and pleading, he could feel his dick harden and more thoughts bloomed, each one more tantalizing than the last. 
Mattheo’s door opened and Enzo walked in with Theo following behind. Theo just looked at him, nodding casually before turning to his side of the room, but Enzo’s eyes were dancing with mischief, a Cheshire grin already etched into his face. 
“Very smooth, Matty-boy.” Enzo teased. 
Mattheo fixed him with a glare, he hated when anyone called him Matty. “Don’t call me that, and I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 
Enzo’s smile widened, eyes alight, “Oh no? You don’t want to talk about how cute, little Y/N said one sentence to you and you ran off?” 
Theo’s head shot up at that, looking between his two dorm mates with mild interest. Theo always had an uncanny way of reading Mattheo, which right now really irked him since Enzo was stirring the pot. 
“I didn’t run off, I’m tired.” Mattheo grumbled, “Why did you even bring her here? We don’t bring flings here.” He had a feeling there was no such relationship between you and Enzo, but he couldn’t help but try and fish for more information.
“You brought a girl here?” Theo asked incredulously, his interest now fully invested.
Enzo rolled his eyes, “She’s not a fling, we’re friends. We were doing homework together after we got kicked out of the library.” 
“Didn’t seem like homework when you were tickling her.” Mattheo grumbled, the memory flashing in his mind with a new wave of annoyance. 
“You were tickling a girl here?” Theo echoed. 
“Jealous?” Enzo directed at Mattheo before he turned to Theo, “Theo, she’s a Hufflepuff and so much fun to mess with. It’s not like that.”
“So, you wouldn’t mind if I flirted with her?” Theo drawled. Mattheo’s head snapped to Theo, he could feel acid in his throat thinking of Theo flirting with you. Theo’s eyes were already on him, eyebrow quirked, his expression knowing. Mattheo glared back at him and turned away, he knew he shouldn’t care what Theo or Enzo did with you, but he did, and that pissed him off more.
Enzo laughed wholeheartedly, “Sure, but if you’re not serious she’ll sniff out your bullshit. When I first met her I flirted with her for her notes and she stepped on my foot so hard I had to go to Madam Pomfrey!” 
Theo chuckled, “Alright, so she’s off limits then.”  
“You’re fucking right she is. I actually do want to be friends with her, I don’t need you assholes scarring her for life with your flirting. It’s already going to be an uphill battle with how hellish Draco and Pansy can be.”
“So we’ll be seeing more of her?” Theo questioned, and for once Mattheo was glad for Theo’s inquisitive nature, the same question burning in his mind. He wanted to see more of Y/N, his mind flickering back to those not so innocent thoughts. 
“Yeah, probably.” And with that, the conversation seemed to be over, Mattheo’s lack of talking not going unnoticed by his two friends. They shared a look, coming to the exact same seemingly impossible conclusion: Mattheo had a crush. 
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Enzo’s casual affirmation was an understatement, as the next day he invited his Hufflepuff to sit with them in the Great Hall at breakfast. She was smiling up at Enzo when he brought her over, then turning her smile to all of them at the table. She shot Mattheo a shy smile and wave before settling between Enzo and Blaise. 
Pansy and Draco both offering indifferent greetings before turning to each other and continuing their conversation. Theo, Blaise and you began an intense discussion about potions, Enzo offering a comment here and there while he ate breakfast. Mattheo could only look around at his friends in confusion, his group not known to be friendly with people outside of Slytherin, or even with others in Slytherin for that matter. Draco and Pansy being the worst of two but they barely even acknowledged you and continued what they were doing. Blaise and Theo were known to be standoffish and yet here they were joking with you about potions. 
“They know her, dumbass.” 
Mattheo’s eyes shot to Enzo across from him, his face looking smug. Everyone else was so wrapped up in their conversations they didn’t hear what Enzo had whispered. 
“What?” Mattheo asked.
“You look confused,” Enzo clarified, stopping to take a bite of his Apple, “They all know her, she’s been in all of our classes since second year.”
Mattheo nodded in understanding, eyes flickering back to the sweet Hufflepuff, who had now drawn Pansy and Draco into the conversation, the five of them debating whether or not Professor Snape used shampoo. Her face was glowing with happiness, every time she laughed he could see the flutter of her full lashes. His mind echoed the strange desire to count each lash. 
He liked her laughing. The two times he’d seen her teary he thought she’d been cute, the frustration tears from chasing Enzo and the tears from laughing too hard, it was easy to find her adorable, but seeing her carefree and laughing filled his chest with yearning, he wanted her light to shine on him, even just for a moment. Yes, he much preferred her like this, hopefully he wouldn’t have to see her cry for a long while. 
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Mattheo didn’t know how many different ways someone could cry until he met you. 
Now fully adopted into his friend group he’s seen you cry over something with each of his friends and it confused him. He always assumed crying meant a person felt sad, that there were no other reasons to cry. The first time he saw tears in your eyes he added exhaustion as an acceptable reason to cry. Then he added laughter after the common room tickle incident. He figured that’d be it.
Until he found you and Pansy swaddled in blankets in her room listening to a muggle artist named Olivia Rodrigo and eating ice cream. He’d only stopped by to return a book he borrowed from Pansy the week before, he knocked and the door cracked open and he saw your tear streaked face and Pansy huddled on the floor, her face was turned away from him but he heard her sniffles. 
He fumbled out an explanation about the book and you accepted it from him with a small smile. After the door had closed he heard the music blast to full volume. 
He’d never thought Pansy would ever cry, she’d always felt like such expressions were beneath her. He was also very much confused on why you were crying, which made him worried something had happened to both of you. It wasn’t until later that Theo and Enzo told him that Pansy and Luna had broken up and you had decided some girl time was much needed to “feel your feelings” and listen to sad songs.
He’d never considered sympathy crying, but there you were with Pansy, sharing her pain. He admired you for it, your kindness knowing no limits.
The next day Pansy threatened to cut off his dick if he ever told anyone he’d seen her cry, though he was honest and said he actually hadn’t seen anything, and she seemed comforted by that fact. After Pansy seemed to be lighter almost, and she became as protective of you as Enzo, which became clear after Adrian Pucey cornered you in the hallway to harass you for a date. Enzo broke his nose and Pansy sent a hex that had Adrian vomiting hair clumps for a week. Mattheo would deny it but he also paid Adrian a visit after the hex had worn off and threatened a whole lot worse than a broken nose and a gross hex if Adrian so much as breathed in your direction.
The lust Mattheo felt for you still burned but there was something else, something new to him. Something that made him want to comfort you and protect you, to have you look for him for safety. Now, he didn’t just want your body, he wanted your undivided attention. 
Mattheo tried to brush off these thoughts. He was no romantic, you were too sweet and nice to get wrapped up in something with him. As soon as it ended, you’d be crushed and Pansy and Enzo would likely make him suffer for hurting you. He told himself he just felt this way because you were friends, and friends is what you’d have to stay to be safe from him. 
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Quidditch hardly interested you, Mattheo found out. Occasionally you volunteered with Madam Pomfrey and you’d seen enough quidditch injures to give you too much anxiety to watch the game. So whenever he and the boys played you’d skip up to them with boxes of baked goods to wish them luck and left on your merry way to watch the infirmary so Madam Pomfrey could supervise the game.
Surprisingly, Draco had been won over through his stomach. His indifference morphed into a kind of bland acknowledgement until he’d gotten the first good luck treats of the season, then he became outright friendly towards you. But when he’d caught the snitch the first time that year you’d made the whole team a whole fleet of chocolate lava cakes and candied fruit. Draco had sworn all of it was for him but after that he had taken on a kind of pseudo-brother relationship with you.
Conversely, you and Blaise bonded over your distinguished and varied adoration of books, often times swapping between yourselves. Blaise alleged that you were the only one he could read around because you weren’t “a distracting idiot” like Enzo and Draco or “an eternal gossip” like Pansy, but Mattheo could see that Blaise just had a soft spot for you like everyone in the group. Every time they went to Hogsmeade together you and Blaise would peel off to Flourish and Blotts, always coming back with more books. Of course, Blaise being chivalrous meant you never carried your own books despite your protests. The more time they spent in Hogsmeade the longer your books would get passed around to be carried until they always landed in Mattheo’s hands. Though he didn’t mind because you would smile sweetly at him when they returned to Hogwarts and thanked him for carrying your books. 
Yes, Draco and Blaise had become like brothers to you. So when Madam Pomfrey rushed them to the infirmary both bruised with multiple broken bones Mattheo had seen all the color drain from your face.
None of the team was allowed to be in the infirmary so the last thing he could see was your crushed expression and tears welling up in your eyes. Theo, Pansy, Enzo and him had paced outside the hallway until Madam Pomfrey had shooed them away to go rest, telling them they could visit in the morning. 
Mattheo had hardly slept the entire night. His two friends unconscious and battered and your crestfallen face had haunted him. As soon as he could reasonably leave the dorm he rushed to the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips upon seeing him, knowing he had not rested but allowed him to visit anyway, despite it still being too early. 
Draco and Blaise laid in their beds, looking much better than when they’d arrived. Whatever Madam Pomfrey had given them was slowly repairing the bones and easing the bruising on their bodies, their sleeping faces looked peaceful so it was clear they weren’t in pain. In between the two of their beds was you, huddled into yourself on a chair. 
Hearing Mattheo approach had made you lift your head from the floor. Your eyes were puffy from exhaustion, your usual bright smile gone and replaced by a mournful frown. You were wearing the same clothes from yesterday so he knew you’d stayed by their side all night and likely not slept. 
He stood in front of you, not sure what to say and as he looked at you he saw fresh tears gather in your eyes and your lip was trembling. Before he could say anything you’d lept from the chair and wrapped your arms around him, holding him tightly as silent sobs wracked your body. 
Mattheo had never been hugged like this. He was fairly certain he’d never been hugged ever. But here you were, clinging to him and crying into his chest. His heart ached feeling your tears soak into his shirt, you couldn’t keep your sobs silent anymore, now fully weeping on him. He wrapped his arms around you and rested his head on top of yours. 
He just held you as you bawled. Though this situation was less than ideal it felt good that he could be here for you, comforting you. Your body was enveloped in his and he was reminded how small you were, so fragile but so strong at the same time. He wondered how long you’d held yourself together before he got here. That thought made him embrace you tighter, at least he could be here for you now. He told himself he’d keep holding you until you were ready to let go.
Your sobs had turned into little whimpers and sniffles, but you didn’t let go of him. Your head stirred underneath him and he looked down at you, seeing you staring up at him. Your wide eyes glassy and cheeks red, dried tear tracks on your face. The word beautiful flashed through his mind, somehow no matter what you did you always managed to look perfect to him. 
“T-thanks Matty,” you voice quivered, “Er, I mean Mattheo.” Your cheeks were already red from crying, though Mattheo desperately wanted to believe they got a little bit pinker.
“You can call me Matty.” His voice was somewhat hoarse and raspy from fatigue. Her lips quirked up slightly and then she sighed and closed her eyes. 
She slowly unwrapped her arms from him and dropped them to her side, looking back at Draco and Blaise. His body felt empty and cold after you let go, he felt the urge to pull you back but stifled it, as exhaustion was currently winning over his body.
Mattheo looked around and saw a spare blanket and two pillows. He quickly grabbed them, dropping them on the floor between the two beds with his friends. He sat on the floor, with one pillow behind his head against the wall. He pat the spot next to him and down you came, sitting next to him with the other pillow behind your head. He spread the blanket over the two of you and your head came to rest against his shoulder. His eyes closed and then sleep claimed the both of you.
He woke up to a flick on his forehead. He was still propped up against the wall with you ully leaned against his body, still dozing. Draco stood in front of him, the obvious perpetrator of the flick against his head, he was changed out of the hospital clothing but had various bandages and wraps on his body. Blaise was next to him leaning against the hospital bed he’d been spent the night in in, displaying a similar number of bandages. Both of them wearing smirks on their faces aimed at Mattheo and the Hufflepuff curled against him.
“Cozy?” Draco teased. 
Mattheo rolled his eyes with a smile, clearly his friends were alright if they were feeling up to making fun of him. 
“She stayed here all night for you dopes and we were tired,” Mattheo grunted, “Clearly you’re both feeling better though.” 
His friend’s teasing smirks fell and they looked guiltily at the sleeping girl. 
“Y’know she’s going to fuss over us when she wakes up.” Blaise admitted, Draco nodded with a sigh.
“She’ll probably cry.” Draco sighed. Not one of the three boys were looking forward to seeing their friend cry.
“I’ve gotta start carrying around some tissues for her,” Mattheo blurted. Blaise and Draco laughed at that, nodding in agreement and joking the whole group should start carrying some.  
The boys’ laughter stirred the Hufflepuff and she blinked her tired eyes open. At seeing Blaise and Draco awake and standing in front of her she shot right up, discarding the blanket on the floor.
“Blaise! Draco! Oh thank Merlin! How are you feeling? Are you supposed to be standing up? Do you need water? I’ll go get Madam Pomfrey to clean your bandages!” You rattled off, mind clearly spinning off with things to help the two injured Quidditch players. Luckily Blaise grabbed your hand, pulling you from your thoughts.
“We’re fine. Madam Pomfrey is letting us go today. We’re coming back everyday for the next week for the medicine and check ups.” Blaise seemed to sooth you with this, you nodded absentmindedly. Without your brain taking over you really looked at Draco and Blaise and, just as the boys predicted, you started shedding tears. You grabbed both boys and pulled them towards you, both giving you a half hug as you cried. Through your sobs you started babbling your relief about how they were both okay and making them promise to never have to come here half comatose they way they did. 
In the span of a couple of hours your waterworks had turned from fear to relief and Mattheo was glad to see his friends being fussed over by someone so sweet and caring. Your tears were short lived, as Blaise and Draco did their best to make you smile. Your sniffling turned to giggles when Draco’s stomach made a loud gurgle and he moaned about being starving, in typical dramatic Malfoy fashion. 
You had stepped away to thank Madam Pomfrey for allowing you to stay and taking care of your friends. Though the older woman swore it was her job to care for all students and softly chided you for sleeping on the floor even she seemed to fall victim to your charm, hurrying you out the infirmary and promising to see you next time you volunteered. 
“Mr. Riddle, a word please.” Madam Pomfrey said before he could follow you, Draco and Blaise out the door. He nodded to his friends that he’d catch up with them, trying not to think too hard about your worried look.
“I do try not to meddle in my student’s affairs,” Madam Pomfrey started, “But my dear apprentice has been here since midday yesterday and hasn’t eaten anything or slept, aside from your two hour nap on the floor,” the older woman gave a quick glare, “so if you’d please make sure your girlfriend eats and goes straight to bed, I would greatly appreciate it.”
Mattheo nodded dumbstruck, a satisfied Madam Pomfrey led him out the door. 
Girlfriend. Madam Pomfrey thought you and Mattheo were dating. Mattheo once found dating any one repulsive, but he thought about your sweet smiles and angelic laughter and suddenly the idea of dating was inviting, so long as he was dating you. And that was terrifying thought, Mattheo didn’t think himself boyfriend material, but the idea of seeing you date anyone else, or Merlin forbid one of his friends, made him nauseous. He conceded that maybe these feelings would fade after some time, after all, you didn’t give him any indication that you wanted to be more.
Taking Madam Pomfrey’s words seriously he met up with you, Blaise and Draco. After all four of you were fed he suggested they all get rest, Draco and Blaise didn’t argue, their exhaustion kicking in from their injuries, but you pouted, not wanting to go back to your own dorm alone. Mattheo wasn’t immune to your puppy dog eyes so he offered his own bed so you could be with everyone. Draco and Blaise shared a knowing look, but you beamed up at him and happily trotted along with them to their dorms. 
Enzo and Theo were still sleeping, likely to be out until afternoon so as quietly as they could Blaise and Draco went to their own beds, passing out shortly after pulling their blankets around their bodies. 
You shed your large yellow knit sweater and yawned, smiling sleepily at Mattheo. He smiled and tilted his head to his bed, offering it to the kindly Hufflepuff. After removing her shoes she slipped under the covers, he could tell she was struggling to stay awake. 
“Are you coming to bed too?”
Her question made his neck feel hot, she looked at his innocently, eyes fluttering. If he got in that bed with her, he knew he’d never let go of whatever feelings were developing for her. He slowly shook his head, ready to lie to her and say he wasn’t tired, that he was going to go shower or study or literally anything other than get into his bed with her.
“Please Matty?” You pouted. Merlin, he was a goner. He sighed softly and slipped under the covers with you, trying to keep a respectful distance. This whole situation had his body burning and mind in overdrive. You smiled happily and let out a small giggle, wishing him goodnight and then allowing sleep to take you.
Truthfully, he didn’t think he’d be able to sleep. His mind and body kicked into chaos at the proximity of the beautiful Hufflepuff. But he was actually tired, and your soft snores helped him relax and he was able to fall asleep as well. 
That sleep was short-lived, as he only slept for about two hours. When he woke up you were completely tucked into his body, still snoring, with his arms wrapped around you. Luckily, everyone else was still completely knocked out. Against his urges he detached himself from your cuddling, thanking whatever higher power that no one witnessed the intimate moment, and slipped into the bathroom for a cold shower to cool his fevered skin. 
The next day, he went to Hogsmeade and picked up a single green handkerchief with a snake and his initials embroidered into the fabric. He’d never tell anyone but he always kept it in his pocket, just in case.
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Mattheo knew Theo didn’t care for his birthday, after his mother had passed his father became cruel and he never had another birthday. When Enzo had mentioned it in passing at dinner, Theo had told you himself he didn’t celebrate it. 
Mattheo, now attuned to your expressions, saw a glimmer of sadness flickering behind your eyes, followed by a flash of determination. You hadn’t said much after that, but he saw the gears in your head turning. 
A week later on Theo’s birthday Enzo had dashed into the common room, asking all of them to follow him to the Room of Requirement. The whole walk there was tense, Mattheo could tell by Theo’s expression that if it was a big party he was going to be pissed. You were mysteriously missing most of the week, or dashing away quickly so he assumed you had planned something, with Enzo’s help of course.
When they pushed into the room there was no party. Instead there were soft string lights hanging from the ceiling, a fire going in an intricate stone fireplace and a swirling emerald green carpet guiding them further into the room. Just a few steps further and there you were, covered in flour and wearing an apron with splashes of food stains. In front of you was a table with only seven seats set, a cacophony of steaming food on top.
Mattheo and his friends had their mouths agape, trying to take in the extravagance around them. They knew you loved to cook, having been on the receiving end of endless, delicious desserts. But never before had you cooked an actual feast for them. He looked to Theo, who was not looking at the lights or the fireplace or even the food, his deep gaze on you. 
Mattheo saw a nervous smile take hold of your face and watched your hands tug on each other, clearly nervous about Theo’s reaction.
“Um… I made it,” you pushed out, “I remembered you said once you missed your Mom’s cooking so I made a bunch of Italian dishes. Y-your Mom probably made them better but I did my best. I even made Mostaccioli! I remember you said it was your favorite…” Your nervousness getting the better of you. No one said anything, all looking at Theo for his reaction. 
Theo strode up to you, his face not showing anything, and he pulled you into a hug. Theo, who hated unnecessary touching, was hugging you. Mattheo even swore he heard Theo mumble “I love it.”
When your arms came around Theo’s broad back Mattheo got a glimpse of your face. Your eyes were closed, tears leaking out of the corners and a soft, peaceful smile on your face. 
Mattheo didn’t know what to call these types of tears. It felt bigger than the other ones he’d seen. These tears felt sweet and sad at the same time, like you and Theo had a secret understanding. Looking at you and Theo embrace felt like a private, raw moment, but he couldn’t look away. He decided to deem these: bittersweet tears. 
Theo let you go and you chuckled and wiped the sides of your eyes. You beamed at everyone and invited them to sit down and eat. 
And as Mattheo sat down next to you, with a messy apron, covered in flour and a cheery grin on your face, Mattheo couldn’t help but think you more radiant than he’s ever seen you. 
And even though Theo refused to share the Mostaccioli with any of them, it was easily the best meal of Mattheo’s life, love and attention baked into everything you made. His friends more carefree and happy than he’d ever seen them, laughing and joking. 
When you left to get the cake you made that was cooling by the room’s kitchen area Theo leaned over to him and whispered, “If you don’t make a move soon, I’m going to marry that girl.” Mattheo froze like a deer in headlights, but Theo just grinned at him and sipped his champagne. 
Mattheo tried to ignore Theo’s words but they sat heavy in his mind. Ever since he started carrying around a handkerchief for you, he barely even noticed other girls. He can’t even remember the last time he accepted a girl’s invite to her dorm. He only ever thought about you, and instead of fear and uncertainty now he only felt warmth and longing when he imagined you and him together. It surprised him how much he wanted all of it. He wanted to kiss you, to hold you, to have you laugh at his jokes, to smile at him, to worship you in any and every way you’d let him. The realization that he was completely smitten with you pierced through his whole body. Theo was right, you had to be his.
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Finding you alone was damn near impossible, Mattheo found out. If it wasn’t his own friends it was literally everyone else in the entire castle. Apparently your light touched everyone at Hogwarts, as every time he tried to get a moment to ask you on a date someone would appear and ruined the moment. 
At first he didn’t mind. When the Weasley twins approached you with a new invention, something they called the Zinger Wing Giggle Ball you had been too excited to test it for them. Even Mattheo would admit a ball that flies around making teasing, sarcastic remarks and giggling was funny. Even more so when it scared the daylights out of Mrs. Norris and chased her all through the halls calling her “a dirty flobberworm with legs and a tail”. You, of course, had felt bad for Filch and his tattle-cat but even so, you couldn’t help but laugh along too.
Then there were the professors, Mattheo didn’t realize how much volunteering you did for everyone. Professor Sprout requesting your assistance with the odd plant in the greenhouse or Hagrid wanting you to come witness whatever mysterious beast he’d found that week and log their abilities. Even Snape, who never seemed to like any of his students, would approach you for helping him stock his precious ingredients closet. How you made time for anyone was beyond Mattheo, but he was determined still.
His friends seemed to be the worst of all, they seemed almost determined to not let him have a moment alone with you. No matter where he was with you at least one of them would appear. When he’d finally gotten tired of it he gathered them all and told them he was trying to ask you on a date, a real ’not Mattheo being a fuckboi’ date, by Pansy’s words, not his. Of course with who his friends were and how fiercely protective they were over you, they grilled him for over an hour about his intentions. When they were finally satisfied galleons passed around into Theo and Enzo’s hands. Those fuckers had placed bets amongst themselves on whether or not Mattheo would ever figure out his feelings and ask you out. If Mattheo wasn’t so annoyed he’d be a little touched that his two best friends had faith in him. 
And now, here he was. There were no classes today, and almost everyone in the castle was at Hogsmeade. He knew you were somewhere, his friends confirming you weren’t coming that day and had chosen to stay behind. He’d looked for you everywhere, he had even bribed a younger year Hufflepuff with chocolate frogs to check if you were in your room. It felt like another day of failure for him. It was two hours before everyone would come back, he knew that it would be impossible to get you alone after that. He dragged his feet up to the astronomy tower, hoping to take a quick smoke to clear his head. 
But he heard a familiar sniffle from the stairs. As quietly as he could he peaked out from the staircase and there he spotted your familiar tuft of hair and bright yellow knit sweater. He approached you, nerves bursting in his body until he felt his stomach drop. You were crying.
“What happened?” Mattheo questioned. His voice made you jump and when you looked at him, he saw your familiar puffy, red cheeks and watery wide eyes. 
“Hi Matty,” you said softly, “Its nothing. Just something stupid.” You sniffled, trying to wipe your tears with the sleeve of your sweater. He pulled out his handkerchief from his pocket and passed it to you. You looked at him gratefully and accepted it, wiping your face with the soft, expensive fabric.
“You’d never cry for something stupid.” He corrected. He could remember every instance he’d seen you cry, nothing had ever been stupid about them. He sat next to you on the floor. You sighed, twisting your fingers nervously.
“Someone called me a Slytherin whore.” 
Mattheo could have gotten whiplash with how fast his head snapped to you. Mattheo tried not to let his fury show. He really tried, knowing that his anger could potentially scare you. 
“Who?”
“…Does it matter?”
“Who?”
“It’s not worth it.”
“Who?”
He didn’t mean to take a tone with you, but he was trying to figure out what asshole he was going to beat the shit out of. Then he’d let his friends have their turn.
“Adrian Pucey.”
That son of a bitch. That idiot couldn’t learn the first time. Screw the quidditch team, they’d find another chaser. When Mattheo was finished with him Pucey wouldn’t be able to go near a broom for at least six months. 
“Is that what people think of me?” 
Mattheo was so focused on his rage he didn’t even see you deflating at his side. As he looked at you he realized you weren’t just hurt by Pucey’s words, you believed them.
“No, no one believes that. No one with a brain anyway.” Mattheo assured you. He would cast his anger aside for now, you needed him more.
“I just-“ you groaned, holding your face in your hands, “I know I can be… clingy and a crybaby and maybe I do spend too much time with you guys, but I feel like you guys are my best friends and I like being around you guys and I feel like you guys like me around or maybe you just tolerate me but I feel like that shouldn’t make me a whore and I-“ Mattheo had let you babble long enough. He held your face in his hands and turned your head so you could look at him head on. 
“Listen to me,” He demanded, “You are not a whore. Nothing you do or say could make you that. Understand?”
You nodded in his hands. 
“We do like you being around because we like you. You aren’t clingy or a crybaby. Do you cry? Yes. Is it a perfectly normal reaction? Yes. You’ve made all of our lives better. Pansy has someone she actually likes to do girl stuff with. Draco knows someone outside of our fucked up group and his Mom cares about him. Theo had one of the best fucking birthdays of his life since his Mom died. All because of you! Don’t let some asshole that I’m going to punch in the teeth make you feel like you’re anything less than a ray of sunshine of every single life you touch.”
Mattheo hadn’t realized your hands were cupping his own. You were smiling at him, eyes watery, he wiped a stray tear off your cheek. Your glassy orbs flashed with vulnerability.
“What about you, Matty? Have I made your life better?”
“Better doesn’t even begin to describe what you’ve done to my life.”
More tears were flowing from your eyes but before Mattheo could wipe them away with his hands you threw yourself into his arms, toppling him over and kissed him. 
Any thoughts in Mattheo’s head flew out the window as soon as your lips touched his. Your delicate fingers holding his face lovingly and your soft lips pressed against his own. He brought his hands up to your waist, lightly caressing the skin there that was exposed by your shirt and sweater riding up. The a flurry of peace flooded Mattheo’s body, it was as if his entire being was releasing a sigh of relief, a single thought echoed throughout his body: finally.
Unfortunately, youpulled away, your cheeks flushed. Mattheo was laying on the floor underneath you so you ended up right in his lap, which, looking from his point of view, was so fucking tempting. 
“I’m going to marry the fuck out of you.”
Mattheo meant it but blurting it out had not been his intention, his brain still reeling from the kiss. Nonetheless, you giggled, airy and light like a tinkling bell.
“How about a date first, Matty?” You teased. 
“It’s a start.” Mattheo sat up, pulling your legs tighter around his waist so he could pull you even closer to him. Your fingers started to entangle in his hair and he looked up at you, pure adoration in your eyes, “Do I get to call you mine now?”
“I’ve been yours Matty.”
He hummed happily, pulling your face down to kiss you again. 
842 notes · View notes
heartsbyani · 24 days ago
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“nerds don't date , right?”
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[ 정인 ] ✷ ‎. . flirting with the chic nerd turns into something else ?
۫ 𖨂 𓈒 𝑛erdy!jeongin ₊ ‎ ‎ 𝑓em!reader ˙ . ꒷ g. fluff , humour , crack , forced proximity , classmates to lovers , uni au , fake dating , skz ensemble . 32OOw. ⎯⎯⎯ LiBRARY ⟢ cw. suggestive , as of now . ┆ 📹 ⋮ a y.ji mini series .ᐟ ֹ ₊
yani's note 𑁍ܓ happy jeongin day! <3 thought this fic will end up too long (no surprise there..) so instead i'm turning into another series. ik i update all my series very slowly BUT listen, i will post freq. for this since it's a mini series !! this is pretty fast-paced, for the first chapter though. the upcoming ones may be slow-paced and not rush tho hehe. comments, likes, req./asks and reblogs are always appreciated !! send in a reply or an ask if you want to be in my mastertag, or my individual series' taglists. happy reading, love <3
next chapter.
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the autumn air was crisp, golden leaves swirling across the university courtyard as students hurried to their morning classes. the faint scent of coffee and fallen leaves lingered in the air, mixing with the distant hum of chatter and footsteps against cobblestone paths. it was the kind of morning that made people pause for a second, taking in the poetry of the season—well, people who weren’t already running late.
you weren't late, but you sure weren’t in a rush either. the café near the library had just handed over your classic hot cocoa, still warm against your palms, and the world felt like it was moving at a slow, dreamy pace.
that was, until a familiar figure cut through the crowd like a scene straight out of a high-fashion editorial.
yang jeongin.
jeongin, the so-called nerd, of at least your year. the one with the perfect grades, the sharp jawline, and the ever-present black glasses perched on his nose. the one people assumed spent all his time buried in textbooks, immune to the chaos of university life. except, he wasn’t just a nerd—he was a walking contradiction.
because if jeongin was just a nerd, why was he stepping onto campus dressed like he belonged on a runway?
today, it was a black oversized blazer with a fitted turtleneck, silver rings glinting against his slender fingers as he adjusted the leather strap of his bag. his glasses sat perfectly on the bridge of his nose, giving him an air of quiet arrogance, like he knew he looked good but didn’t care enough to acknowledge it.
his dark hair was slightly tousled, as if he’d just stepped out of bed looking effortlessly perfect. and the way he walked—like the world was just a backdrop, and he was the main character—made people stare without even realizing they were doing it.
jeongin definitely had an idgaf attitude, you had thought when you first shared a class. not towards his studies—no, he was practically married to academic excellence—but towards people.
he didn’t care for the unnecessary drama, the loud parties, or the fleeting conversations about nothing. he had a small, trusted circle and didn’t entertain anyone outside of it.
which was exactly why you found it so fun to mess with him.
“morning, topper,” you called out, stepping in line with him as he made his way toward the lecture hall. “where’s the rest of your nerd squad?”
jeongin barely spared you a glance. “not a nerd,” he replied smoothly.
“yeah?” you sipped your cocoa, unfazed. “you literally corrected our professor’s math last week.”
“he was wrong,” the guy shrugged.
“yeah, but who does that?”
“a person who values accuracy,” he deadpanned, his lips twitching slightly.
you simply grinned, as you walked alongside him. your friend group always teased you for hanging around jeongin, saying you were probably the only person brave enough to bother the university’s golden boy.
he wasn’t mean, exactly, but he had a way of making people feel like they weren’t worth his time.
which was true regardless.
still, you had made it your personal mission to crack his icy exterior.
“so,” you continued, “you ever been on a date, topper?”
he slowed his pace. it was so brief that most people wouldn’t have noticed, but you caught the slight hesitation before he turned to you, raising a perfectly shaped brow.
“what?”
“a date. you know—dressing up, awkward small talk, trying to impress someone so they don’t ghost you after?” you clarified, voice laced with amusement.
jeongin adjusted his glasses, looking unimpressed. “i know what a date is.”
“great! so, have you been on one?”
for a second, he just stared at you, dark eyes unreadable behind his lenses. then, in a tone so nonchalant it almost sounded careless, he said, “no.”
you almost choked on your drink. “wait, seriously?”
he continued walking, unfazed. “yeah. why? is that surprising?”
“duh?” you huffed, catching up. “you’re, like, weirdly hot for a nerd. i thought people would be throwing themselves at you.”
he scoffed. “that’s the problem. i don’t care about people throwing themselves at me.”
you tilted your head. “then what do you care about?”
he continued walking, completely nonchalant as he gazed up. the morning sun caught the silver of his rings as he slipped his hands into his pockets, tilting his head slightly.
“why?” he mused, voice smooth as ever. “you wanna change that?”
you blinked. for the first time, you were the one caught off guard.
because jeongin wasn’t looking at you with his usual passive expression. no, there was something in his gaze—something sharp, something challenging, something that almost looked like interest.
and you, for the first time in your life, had no idea what to say.
flirting with a nerd shouldn’t be this hard.
the crisp morning air suddenly felt warmer.
you were not the type to get flustered easily, but the way jeongin had just looked at you—head tilted, hands in his pockets, voice smooth as hell—all the while walking straight ahead as if he hadn't just lowkey flirted with you—wasn’t fair.
it wasn’t nerdy. it wasn’t normal. it wasn’t jeongin.
since when did nerds flirt back?
you narrowed your eyes, stepping closer to mask your sudden loss of composure. “that sounded like a challenge.”
“maybe it is.”
you blinked. okay. this was new territory. you were used to jeongin rolling his eyes at you, shutting down your playful jabs with a bored look. not this. not him flipping the script so effortlessly.
but two could play that game.
“well, topper,” you hummed, leaning in slightly, “if you want me to take you on a date, you should just say so.”
his smirk didn’t waver, but you caught the quick flicker of his eyes—the way they darted to your lips before meeting your gaze again. he adjusted his glasses, his fingers briefly brushing against the silver rings.
“i don’t recall saying that,” he mused.
you grinned. “you didn’t deny it, though.”
jeongin exhaled through his nose, amused, before turning back toward the lecture hall. “come on. we’re already late.”
you watched him walk ahead, your heartbeat a little too loud in your ears.
what the hell just happened?
— inside the lecture hall
the class was already half-full when you and jeongin entered, the air buzzing with lazy morning energy. some students were half-asleep, slumped over their desks, while others were whispering about weekend plans.
the professor hadn’t arrived yet, but the massive whiteboard was already filled with equations from an earlier class—long, intimidating numbers that you barely had the mental energy to comprehend.
you spotted your some of your friends near the middle rows. felix, ryujin, and yeji were sitting together, with an empty seat next to the blonde. across the hall, the nerd's own 'gang'—jisung, hyunjin, seungmin, aeri and yunah—was all huddled near the front.
as you slid into the seat next to felix, he raised an eyebrow. “you were talking to jeongin again?”
“yeah?”
he leaned in, lowering his voice. “bae. people actually think he hates, like, everyone.”
you scoffed, unbothered. “well, i’m built different.”
ryujin, who was casually scrolling on her phone, smirked. “or maybe you just like hot twi— nerds.”
“he's not tw—”
yeji cut you off, nudging the other two. “what’s the bet again?”
felix only grinned. “y/n would either break jeongin’s cold exterior or completely embarrass herself trying.”
“so far, it’s leaning toward the second one.”
you groaned, shoving felix’s arm. “so i'm as valuable as a bet now?”
meanwhile, across the room, jeongin was already in his seat, casually flipping through his notes. jisung nudged him with an exaggerated smirk.
“was y/n hitting on you again?”
jeongin adjusted his glasses. “probably.”
seungmin, looking unimpressed, leaned back in his chair. “and you just let her?”
jeongin shrugged. “she's entertaining.”
aeri cackled. “you so have a crush.”
“i don’t.”
“right, right.” jisung rolled his eyes. “that’s why you’re smirking to yourself like a roblox character right now?”
jeongin’s smirk immediately disappeared. “shut up.”
— after class, the campus café
after suffering through an hour of math (or thriving through it, if you were jeongin), you found yourself at the campus café, sipping on some watermelon juice you had gotten. the café was a cozy little spot near the library, filled with the soft hum of conversations and the clinking of coffee cups. the warm lighting made the wooden interior glow, and the air smelled like cinnamon and espresso.
you were sitting with felix and ryujin when jeongin entered.
of course, he looked annoyingly good again.
and of course, he had changed his attire after class.
noon's outfit: a fitted cream turtleneck under a tailored charcoal gray coat, paired with black trousers and sleek leather boots. his silver rings caught the light as he pushed his glasses up, scanning the menu like he wasn’t aware half the café was stealing glances at him.
you sighed dramatically. “does he ever look bad?”
felix smirked. “that’s what you’re worried about?”
“no, i’m worried about myself, because apparently, i’m developing a thing for well-dressed nerds.”
ryujin raised an eyebrow. “oh? so you admit it?”
at that moment, jeongin’s gaze flickered over to you. your eyes met. and instead of just nodding or ignoring you like usual, he did something that nearly made you drop your drink.
he smiled.
not a smirk. not a teasing glance. a smile. dimples and all.
you blinked, stunned.
felix leaned in, whispering, “oh. you’re so done for.”
and for the second time today, you really had nothing to say.
the art of losing (to a nerd).
jeongin had smiled at you.
not a smirk, not an i’m-better-than-you glance, but an actual smile. dimples, soft eyes, the whole deal.
you were losing your mind.
“i—what—he—” you sputtered, gripping your juice like it held the answers to the universe. “did he just smile at me?”
felix sipped his iced coffee with an amused look. “yup.”
ryujin smirked, barely glancing up from her phone. “congratulations. you’re officially the first person outside of his nerd cult to get that privilege.”
“oh lord.”
across the café, jeongin had already turned back to the counter, unfazed. he ordered his usual—black coffee, no sugar—before casually making his way to a corner booth. he moved so effortlessly, extremely nonchalant.
you, however, were still stuck on that smile.
what did it mean? was he just being polite? was he messing with you? did he—
felix snapped his fingers in front of your face. “hello? earth to y/n? you’re staring.”
you blinked. “i am not.”
ryujin raised an eyebrow. “you totally are.”
felix leaned in, grinning. “wait. wait. are you blushing?”
“no.”
“you’re so done for,”
“first stage of denial: over.”
“i hate the both of you.”
. . .
a few days later, you were at the campus library, attempting to study. spoiler: it wasn’t going well.
the problem?
a nerd sitting across from you.
it wasn’t planned. you had been minding your own business, laptop open, notes spread out, when jeongin had materialized in front of you, dropping his books onto the table with an air of casual dominance.
“reserved seats don’t exist,” he had said when you had gaped at him.
so now, here you were. stuck at the same table, trying (and failing) to ignore each other.
you tapped your pen against your notebook, sneaking a glance at him. he was focused, dark eyes scanning the textbook like it was the most interesting thing in the world. his glasses slid down slightly, and he absentmindedly pushed them back up with a knuckle.
how was it possible for a nerd to look so effortlessly cool?
“you’re staring.”
you flinched. “observing.”
jeongin didn’t even look up. “creeping.”
you huffed, crossing your arms. “you are so full of yourself.”
a smirk. “you’re the one staring, not me.”
you scowled, ready to retort, when an idea hit them. a terrible, wonderful idea.
you leaned in slightly, lowering your voice. “you know,” you mused, “if you ever need a break from all that.. nerding, i can take you on a date.”
jeongin finally looked up, raising a brow. “are you seriously flirting with me in the library?”
“why? is it working?”
a pause. then—
jeongin leaned in too.
too close. close enough that you caught the faint scent of his cologne—something woody, expensive, unfairly attractive.
“you tell me,” he murmured.
your brain short-circuited.
felix was right. you were so done for.
. . .
you had two rules in life.
1. never get involved in unnecessary drama. 2. never—ever—fall for a nerd.
unfortunately, han jisung existed solely to ruin both of those.
the set-up (aka jisung's dumb idea)
"so, uh… i kind of need a favor."
jisung plopped down beside you in the campus café, grinning like he hadn’t just uttered the most dangerous words in existence.
you, munching on a cookie, didn’t bother looking up from the textbook you were pretending to read simultaneously. "no."
"you don’t even know what i’m asking."
"i know it’s stupid."
jisung pouted. "wow. no faith in me at all?"
you finally sighed, setting the cookie down. "fine. what’s the favor?"
jisung clapped his hands together, practically vibrating with excitement. "so, jeongin has this family thing coming up, right?"
"okay… and?"
jisung leaned in, lowering his voice like he was about to reveal a government secret. "his parents keep nagging him about dating."
"and why is that my problem?"
jisung grinned. "because you’re fake-dating him now!"
silence.
you stared. "i’m what?"
"you heard me."
at that exact moment, jeongin—who had just arrived at the café (wow magic) —froze mid-step. he turned to jisung with a glare sharp enough to cut glass.
"what are you doing? no!"
jisung pouted. "come on, dude. your mom keeps asking about your nonexistent girlfriend, and y/n is perfect for this!"
you smirked, propping your chin on your hand. "perfect, hm?"
jeongin shot you a flat look. "don’t."
jisung, ignoring him, continued excitedly, "think about it! y/n’s hot, pretty, you two already bicker like an old married couple, and—"
jeongin cut him off. "i’d rather die."
"well, damn," you muttered, feigning offense. "you could at least pretend to be a little enthusiastic about fake-dating me."
jeongin turned to you, unimpressed. "i’d rather explain quantum mechanics to a toddler than date you."
you grinned. "you know quantum mechanics?"
"that’s not the point."
jisung threw his hands up. "guys! focus! jeongin, do you want your mom setting you up with random girls?"
jeongin clenched his jaw. he hated when his mom did that. every family event ended with some aunt introducing him to their neighbor’s niece, followed by exhausting small talk and forced compliments.
his eyes flickered to you, watching him with that stupidly smug smile. you probably weren’t taking this seriously, right?
good.
because he wasn’t doing it.
"no," he finally said. "not happening."
jisung groaned. "dude. it’s one dinner."
"still no."
you leaned in, resting your elbow on the table. "you’re really against the idea of dating me?"
jeongin exhaled, looking you dead in the eye. "fake or not, i wouldn’t date you if you were the last person on earth."
you grinned. "good. that means i can flirt all i want, and you totally won’t get attached, right?"
"oh yeah? wanna bet on it?"
"oh you're on, yang. i'll flirt with you as much as i want for-"
he cuts you off, "-one month. a whole week of me buying you snacks and lunch on the line. if you win."
"hmm, scared much? why not make it three months and i'll actually leave you alone after it all?"
"oh this is fun." jisung only stared between the two.
"bet."
jisung clapped his hands together. "so it's settled! you two are fake-dating!"
"i never agreed to this," jeongin muttered.
you simply took another bite of your cookie. "too late, topper. we have a date to plan."
jeongin swore under his breath.
this was going to be a disaster.
. . .
the night of the dinner came faster than jeongin would’ve liked.
you, unfortunately, were thriving.
"so, babe," you teased, nudging him as you walked toward the fancy restaurant where his family was waiting. "are we holding hands or what?"
jeongin shot you a glare. "no."
you pouted dramatically. "you’re so bad at this."
"i don’t want to be good at this."
you sighed. "fine. but i am calling you ‘babe’ in front of your parents."
jeongin stopped walking. "don’t."
you smirked. "babe."
jeongin groaned, rubbing his temples.
this was hell.
so, the second you stepped in, jeongin’s mom beamed.
"iyennie! you made it!"
you nearly choked. iyennie?
jeongin shot you a look that screamed, say a word and you die.
you, of course, took mental notes for future bullying.
his mother, looking as happy as ever, turned to you, eyes lighting up. "and this must be your girlfriend!"
you smiled sweetly, reaching for jeongin’s arm. "yes, ma’am! i’ve heard so much about you."
jeongin stiffened. his actual nightmare was happening.
his mom clapped her hands together. "oh, she’s adorable! and so polite!"
jeongin shot you a glare.
y/n, in response, squeezed his arm.
. . .
the dinner had barely started, and jeongin already wanted to disappear.
his mom was in full hosting mode, greeting everyone at the long, beautifully decorated table like she was running a royal banquet. his dad, more relaxed but equally nosy, sat at the head of the table, eyeing jeongin and you like you two were the most interesting thing in the world.
and then, of course, there were the relatives.
the visiting relatives.
which jeongin had not been informed about.
"aunt nae is here?" he whispered to his mom in horror as they took their seats.
"of course! she and minji wanted to see you, and they had to meet your girlfriend," his mom whispered back, beaming.
jeongin shot a look at you, who was way too comfortable in this situation, greeting his relatives like you'd been part of the family for years.
he exhaled sharply. this is fine. one dinner.
you turned to him, grinning. "jeonginnie, babe, scoot closer."
jeongin flinched. "what the hell did you just call me?"
"jeonginnie," you repeated, full of amusement, before turning to his mom. "it’s my nickname for him. cute, right?"
his mom melted. "oh, that’s adorable!"
jeongin clenched his jaw, gripping his fork like it was his last lifeline.
you were having the time of your life.
"so, y/n," jeongin’s dad started, leaning back in his chair. "tell us about yourself. what are you studying?"
you smiled, setting your chopsticks down. "music and literature."
jeongin’s mom clasped her hands together. "oh! a creative soul!"
jeongin muttered under his breath, "more like a chaotic soul."
you kicked him under the table. he barely held in a grunt.
one of jeongin’s aunts, a well-dressed woman in her late fifties, eyed you curiously. "and how did you two meet?"
before jeongin could stop you, you smoothly responded, "in the library. he was too shy to talk to me at first, so i had to make the first move. such a baby, right?"
jeongin nearly choked on his water. "that’s not—"
"oh, my," one of the older relatives gushed. "that’s so cute!"
"it really was," you continued, ignoring jeongin’s silent death glare. "he kept glancing at me over his books. adorable. my little nerd."
jeongin took a slow, deep breath. "lying is a sin, you know."
you turned to him with a sickeningly sweet smile. "so is being grumpy at your loving girlfriend, babe."
jeongin gritted his teeth. "i hate you."
"no, you don’t."
the rest of the table ate this up.
minji, his cousin, sighed dreamily. "you two are so cute together."
jeongin gave you a sharp look that screamed, look what you’ve done.
you only smirked.
and so, the dinner continued, filled with stories, laughter, and jeongin’s silent suffering.
until his father, casually sipping his drink, said, "we should invite y/n to the family trip next month."
silence.
jeongin’s brain short-circuited.
"excuse me?"
his dad smiled. "the family trip! your mom and i were just talking about it the other day. since y/n is part of the family now, she should come!"
jeongin nearly passed out.
you, on the other hand, simply blinked. "family trip?"
"oh, yes!" his mom clapped her hands together. "a whole week at the beach! we go every year, but this time, you’ll be joining us!"
jeongin stared at them in horror. "no, she won’t."
"of course, she will," his dad said firmly.
"we’ve only been dating for a few months!" jeongin protested.
his mom tilted her head. "so?"
"so?! that’s too soon for a family trip!"
you, who had been silent, leaned in slightly. "i mean, i do like the beach."
jeongin whipped his head toward them. "are you kidding me?"
you smirked. "what? i think it could be fun, babe."
jeongin clenched his fists. "i hate you." (keep counting guys !!)
"no, you don’t."
the table broke into excited chatter about the trip, completely ignoring jeongin’s very obvious distress.
this wasn’t happening.
this couldn’t be happening.
but it was.
and you were enjoying every second of it.
. . .
the evening air was crisp, a sharp contrast to the warmth inside the restaurant. the soft glow of the streetlights cast elongated shadows on the pavement, flickering with the occasional movement of people walking past. somewhere down the street, a car honked, followed by the muffled laughter of a group of university students spilling out of a nearby café.
none of that mattered to jeongin.
because he was currently standing outside the restaurant, rubbing his face aggressively while you stood beside him, grinning like you had just won the lottery.
as soon as you had left the restaurant, he had dragged you to the side, glaring.
"you just had to play along?"
you shrugged. "what was i supposed to do? say no and make it obvious?"
"yes!"
you smirked, tapping your chin. "hmm… too boring."
jeongin groaned, rubbing his temples. "this was supposed to be one night."
"well," you said cheerfully, "looks like we’re fake-dating for a month now. hope you’re ready, iyennie. oh, and this doesn't mean our bet is off the line now."
jeongin groaned louder.
this was hell.
"you're enjoying this," he accused, voice flat, eyes burning into them.
you smoothed the skirt of your blue, satin dress, pretending to think. "maybe a bit."
jeongin shot you a glare.
okay, a full-blown murderous glare.
you, still entirely unbothered, placed a hand on your hip. "i don’t see why you’re mad. i mean, a free vacation? beachside views? quality time with your loving girlfriend?" you batted your lashes. "i’d say that’s a win."
jeongin exhaled through his nose. "a win would be me never having to fake-date you in the first place."
you gasped dramatically. "that hurts, iyennie."
jeongin physically recoiled. "don’t call me that."
"aww, but it’s cute." you tilted your head, smirking. "just like you."
jeongin’s entire body tensed. "i hate you." (what did i tell you?)
"no, you don’t."
"besides, you could've asked any other girl for this whole.. fake dating agenda, you know. but you didn't, so i think that's very contradictory to your complains right now."
"you think i had a choice when jisung practically threatened me there in the first place?"
"please, you could reject it if you really wanted to. that man would forget about it if minho appeared randomly."
jeongin groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "this was supposed to be one night. one dinner. one stupid meal, and then i could go back to my normal, peaceful life."
"peaceful? dude, you have two research papers due, a physics exam next week, and you literally stress-buy sweaters. what part of that is peaceful?"
"shut up," he muttered.
"aww, did i strike a nerve?"
jeongin clenched his jaw. "let’s just go."
"go where?"
jeongin pointed to his car. "i drove you here, remember? which means, unfortunately, i have to drop you home, too."
"aww, you care about my safety, now? such a great boyfriend."
"no, darling, i just don’t want my mom thinking i abandoned you on the side of the road."
you gasped, pressing a hand to your heart. "cold, iyennie. cold."
jeongin ignored her and walked to his car.
jeongin’s car was clean. of course it was.
dark leather seats, faint traces of cologne and fresh laundry lingering in the air, a neatly placed water bottle in the cup holder, and absolutely no mess in sight. it was exactly what you had expected from someone like jeongin—controlled, neat, meticulous.
you, on the other hand, sprawled in the passenger seat like you had all the time in the world, kicking off your heels with a sigh.
"ugh, finally," you said, stretching your legs. "i swear, those things were invented by a man."
jeongin side-eyed them as he started the car. "you chose to wear them."
"yeah, because i actually put effort into my appearance, especially because i was meeting my boyfriend's family, you know. not to mention, i also had to match someone's peak of fashion sense."
you looked him up and down, eyes dragging over his outfit. "speaking of, i gotta admit, you looked kind of good tonight, nerd."
jeongin, dressed in a perfectly fitted black button-up (with the sleeves slightly rolled, because of course), navy slacks, and a silver watch that sat just right on his wrist, kept his eyes on the road. "kind of?"
"mhm. but don’t let it go to your head."
jeongin clicked his tongue. "too late."
you laughed, leaning against the window. "so, when were you going to tell me you had a whole extended family coming to dinner?"
jeongin let out a deep sigh. "i didn’t know."
"mm-hmm."
"i didn’t. if i had known, i would’ve never agreed to this in the first place."
"bet your mom planned it on purpose,"
jeongin’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. "oh, she definitely did."
silence filled the car, the quiet hum of the engine the only sound between them. the city lights flickered past, casting patterns of gold and silver against the windshield. the streets, alive with late-night chatter and the occasional honk, blurred into the background.
you shifted, turning to face him. "so, what’s the plan?"
jeongin frowned. "what plan?"
"you know, the fake-dating plan? we need a strategy."
jeongin blinked. "we don’t need a strategy. we just—" he exhaled. "we just survive the trip, act normal, and then break up after."
you gasped. "break up? so soon?"
jeongin shot you a look. "we are not actually dating, idiot."
"but think of the drama!" you grinned. "we could stage a messy breakup—throw some fake tears in, maybe have a whole 'it’s not you, it’s me' moment—"
"no."
you pouted. "boring."
jeongin rolled his eyes. "you are the most insufferable person i’ve ever met."
"and yet, here you are, fake dating me. out of every girl in town."
jeongin groaned. "i hate my life."
you smirked, playing with the edge of your dress. "no, you don’t."
. . .
when you finally pulled up in front of the women's uni dorm building, jeongin parked and rested his head against the seat, exhausted.
"alright, we’re here. get out."
you gasped. "no goodnight kiss?"
"out."
you laughed, wearing your heels back and stepping out. before closing the door, you leaned down slightly, peering inside. "sweet dreams, iyennie. don’t miss me too much."
jeongin glared. "i will actually block your number."
you winked. "you wish you could."
and with that, you shut the door and disappeared into the building, leaving jeongin staring after you, questioning every life choice that had led to this moment.
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mastertag ୨୧ @cosmicalily @hyunjiiza @modesttiger @woozarts @katsukis1wife @bddaramjis @reignessance @peskybirdysya @honeyybbuubblleess @ellemir2404 @4ng3l-ch1ld @urlocalmultigroupfan
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bueckers · 7 months ago
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UNFINISHED BUSINESS ━━━ paige bueckers
i don’t wanna fight, but you got the wrong vibes. let me get you right, it’s how i apologize. ✶
synopsis: she broke it off, but has since had a hard time leaving her alone… especially when having to see her in person.
pairing: paige bueckers x fem oc
warnings: smut with plot, p eating ( p is literally EATING ), fingering, thigh riding, and slight angst.
notes: this is ridiculously long. in honor of her fit here, enjoy.. i loved writing this almost as much as i love the song lol. lmk if i should make a part two or maybe a series!
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Nervous, excited, and borderline bald from tugging at my hair—these were all the things I had felt the moment I stepped into the WNBA 2024 All-Star Game.
I would be seeing Paige tonight. Paige would be seeing me tonight. Paige knew I knew she would be seeing me tonight, and I knew Paige knew she would be seeing me tonight.
When Paige and I first started hooking up, it was never supposed to be anything serious. She was sidelined with a torn ACL, and I knew she was in a dark place, struggling with everything that came with being forced off the court. I think that’s why it started, honestly. She needed an escape, something to make her forget for a little while, and I was there.
Paige and I have known of each other for years, though. We both came up in the basketball world at the same time, our names being tossed around in the same circles since high school. We’d cross paths at AAU tournaments and national showcases, always on different teams but always aware of each other.
Back then, our support for each other was more from a distance, and it wasn’t until college that things started to shift. We crossed paths more often, whether it was at games, media events. The rivalry between our schools added a new layer to our interactions, but by then, we had leveled up from distant competitors to something more like casual friends.
Those moments were what led us to where we eventually ended up. The more we talked, the more we realized how much we actually had in common—our experiences, our struggles, the pressure to perform, and the constant scrutiny. It felt natural, easy, to let our guard down with each other, which is why when her injury happened and everything else in her life felt like it was falling apart, I wasn’t surprised when we fell into it.
We had an agreement. Not one that was ever talked about soberly, but the way it happened just fell into place so perfectly that we didn’t need to. We’d meet up when it was needed, no commitments, no expectations. Just two people finding comfort in each other, filling a void that we couldn’t fill on our own. It was convenient, effortless, and most importantly, it worked for the both of us. I guess I figured if I kept things casual, I wouldn’t get caught up in something messy. I didn’t want to be the one to complicate her life even more.
We’d cross paths after games, during off-season, or whenever our schedules aligned, slipping into each other’s lives for a few hours at a time. She knew how to keep me at arm’s length, just close enough to keep me coming back but far enough to never let me in too deep. She knew exactly how to make me feel needed without ever giving too much of herself away. It was maddening, really—how she could be so vulnerable one minute, showing me sides of herself that no one else got to see, and then switch off just as quickly.
The more we hooked up, the more I started to realize I was getting too close. I could see it in the way she’d look at me sometimes, like she knew I was starting to care too much. And the worst part was, she didn’t seem to mind pushing me right to that edge. She’d say something that made my heart race, or she’d touch me in a way that felt like it meant something, only to pull back and remind me of our status. She was always in control, always the one with the upper hand, and I hated how easily I let her have it.
And then it was all done. She cut things off with a cold finality that I still can’t even believe. No explanation, no soft letdown—just a sudden, brutal end. It was like she knew exactly when I’d reached that point and she didn’t hesitate to remind me that it was never supposed to mean anything at all.
“I’m gonna go grab some snacks, alright? Try to look a little more happy for the jumbotron,” JuJu teases, getting up from her seat. I gasped, barely having any time to process her insult as she scooted between me to get to the stadium stairs.
“Very funny,” I muttered, watching her walk away.
Alone now, I focused on the game, doing an extremely good job at hiding the gnawing in my chest. I’d say I have a good poker face, but Paige would agree to disagree. My phone buzzed, jolting me from my thoughts. It was her and she’d finally found you. She was on the other side of the arena, clearly getting a kick out of having you in her view.
you mad at me or just deep in thought?
I rolled my eyes back to the deep depths of hell. Another text from her.
you look good tonight
you too. how’s the game?
As soon as I hit send, I regret it. I should have ignored her. I should have said something snarky.
Her reply comes almost immediately.
could be better. thought about coming over
what stopped you?
You watched her text bubble practically stutter, making you quirk an eyebrow.
juju. i didn’t wanna make it awkward.
lol. okay.
actually, scratch that. leave w me.
I shifted in my seat, my hands suddenly clutching my phone a little tighter.
paige, no.
why not?
I shut off my phone just in time for JuJu’s return, watching as she squeezed through mounds of people to get back to me. She handed me a cherry slurpee, which would however be gone in ten minutes.
“Thanks, sugar,” you teased her, wrapping your lips around the straw and taking a nice, long sip. She shook her head at me as she focused on the game again, nachos in hand. Ping.
Tell her don’t get too comfortable 😂
I could even feel her eyes boring into me from the other side. I could picture the stupid smirk or gummy smile she’d have. I turned my ringer off and silenced Paige’s notifications before slipping my phone into my back pocket and reverting my attention back to the game. It’s almost over.
Fast forward to the final buzzer, and Juju and I made our way down to the court, weaving through the crowd of fans and players. I always loved the energy in a room of women’s basketball players and fans— there were always a million things going on at once. As we reached the court, we spotted Caitlin, who was already deep in conversation with a couple of other players.
“Great game, Cait,” I said, pulling her into a light hug. “Guess nobody busts your butt as good as SC, huh?” I pulled back first, resting my hands on my hips. I could say I’ve known Caitlin as long as I have Paige, but Cait doesn’t know me the way Paige does.
Caitlin laughed, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. “Yeah, yeah, Miss Championship. but don’t get too cocky now.”
Juju laughed alongside me, adding a quick comment about how USC would give her a run for her money next time. The conversation flowed easily, a mix of post-game analysis and friendly banter. I scanned the court for a brief moment, knowing exactly who I was looking for.
Sure enough, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Flau’jae and Paige making their way over. I braced myself, knowing the cameras would be all over this reunion, and the media would have a field day with it. Paige looked as confident as ever, her stride always one that grabbed attention.
“Hey, y’all,” Paige said, her voice smooth, effortless. She exchanged hugs and high-fives with everyone, her presence commanding attention as always. When she reached me, she didn’t hesitate to pull me into a hug, her hand resting on my hip before snaking around to my lower back.
And then I felt it—her hand slipping lower, fingers grazing the fabric of my mini skirt. I could hear the smirk in her voice as she leaned in, her breath warm against my ear. “Good to see you.” Just close enough to keep me coming back.
I pulled back slightly, meeting her eyes. There was that smirk. My heart was pounding, a mix of frustration and something else I didn’t want to acknowledge. “You too,” I managed, keeping my tone as neutral as possible, pulling back with a tight-lipped grin that looked friendly enough to anyone who didn’t know what was going on. Which was everyone.
The group continued chatting, oblivious, obviously. You’d found out the one thing you hated about being around Paige was the overwhelming current of being the only ones in the room who knew how each other was feeling. Paige, ever the actor, kept up her usual easygoing demeanor, but I could feel her gaze on me, like she was waiting for something. I tried to focus on the conversation, but it was impossible with her so close, the warmth of her hand still lingering on my skin.
When the small talk finally wound down, and the others started drifting away, Paige moved closer, her eyes locked on mine. She leaned in again, her voice low, almost a whisper. “C’mon. Meet me,” she coaxed, her breath warm against my ear. Her fingers brushed lightly against my side, tracing a path.
I hesitated, the resolve I’d built up over the past hour crumbling under the weight of her presence. She was testing me, pushing every button she knew she could. And damn it, it was working.
I finally nodded, barely audible. “Okay.”
It was all she needed. A single, one-word confirmation that I wanted her as bad as she does. She took my phone out of my pocket for me, placing it my hand as she said her goodbyes to everyone else, leaving me there. I suppose it was smarter for her to do that anyway.
Shortly after Paige’s departure, I made my way out as well. JuJu wasn’t a tough barrier to get past. I told her to finish up her conversations, and that I’d see her back at the hotel. I wasn’t quite show how long my excuse would suffice, but I hoped she’d find her way to the bar or something after.
I don’t know why I listened. Watched my fingers click on her contact and give the driver her hotel’s address. It was like I was compelled from the moment she’d touched me, and to be honest, I don’t think I’d be surprised if that was the case.
The Uber ride felt interminable, each passing moment only heightening the anticipation and anxiety. I could barely focus on the city lights flashing by outside, my mind consumed with the impending confrontation and whatever would follow.
Finally, I was able to make my way to her room, feeling the cool air of the hallway against my skin as I knocked on the door. When Paige answered, her smile was as infuriatingly charming as ever, and she pulled me inside with a warm, yet testing glint in her eye.
The moment the door clicked shut behind us, Paige’s demeanor shifted. Before I could voice any protest, her lips were on mine, kissing me with an urgency that made my heart race. I barely had time to process the sudden change before she deepened the kiss, her hands roaming possessively over my back.
I tried to pull away, my mind still reeling from the fact that I was even here, but her grip tightened, pulling me closer. “Paige,” I murmured against her lips, trying to catch my breath. “We need to talk—” but as much as I tried to voice it, I knew that isn’t what we both really planned to do.
She silenced me with another intense kiss, her fingers tangling in my hair, guiding my head to tilt for better access. Her touch was relentless, her body pressing against mine with all the need in her body. “I don’t wanna fight,” she whispered between kisses, her breath hot and heavy against my skin. “Jus’ wanna be close to you.” She breathed in my scent, and I melted.
The words were almost lost in the heated moment, but I could feel the sincerity. She pulled back just enough to look into my eyes, her gaze smoldering with an intensity that made me rethink actually standing on business. She waited, trying to see if I was really against this. I licked my lips, glancing at hers.
I didn’t stand a chance.
Her lips found mine again, and the world narrowed to the press of our bodies. Our kisses were feverish and desperate, each touch holding some type of meaning. Paige’s hands roamed over my skin like there were so many options in a candy store and she couldn’t pick just one. In this case, one spot to focus on. Her mouth trailed down my collarbone, leaving a path of pinkish marks.
Our bodies were pressed together and refusing to let go. Paige guided me towards the bed, her hands never leaving my body, her lips continuing their assault on my skin. When she finally lowered me onto the bed, I was needy and breathless and finally feeling a little more realistic.
“P, I’m still mad,” I tried to insist, though my voice wavered as I watched her begin to undress. She unzipped her Nike vest slowly, the sound of the fabric sliding down her body making my pulse quicken. It fell to the floor, and she ripped off her shirt with a sudden, breathless intensity, revealing her sports bra. The sight of her, partially unclothed and vulnerable in front of me again left me speechless.
“I know,” she murmurs, her head slightly tilted as she looked at me all-knowingly. “And ima’ make it up to you, I promise. Just let me get you right.” Her fingers trailed up my bare legs, eliciting a small gasp from my lips. She tugged at the hem of my skirt, pulling the fabric down and grabbing my panties in the process. I watched her do it, in utter disbelief that this was how I was spending my night.
Her fingers graze teasingly against my kneecaps, sending shivers through my body, before she gently but firmly peels my legs apart. I look down at her. “You’re just trying to distract me,” I say, but there’s no heat behind the words.
Paige smirks, a knowing look in her eyes as she falls to her knees, her hands sliding over my thighs. “Maybe,” she admits, her voice dropping into a low, sultry tone as she tucks her lip between her teeth. “But you can’t say you don’t want this too.”
She’s right, and we both know it. The way she’s touching me, the way her eyes are locked onto mine with that look. The same one that knows she’s getting her way tonight. My worries seem so distant now, nothing more than a whisper of irritation in the back of my mind, easily drowned out by the way Paige’s hands are moving.
I begin to say something, but she easily cuts me off by diving into me with no warning, immediately humming against my cunt in satisfaction. Her eyebrows were furrowed as her tongue made some deliberate strokes, seemingly in disbelief of the way I tasted. She looks up at me as she delves in, a sight beautiful enough for the Louvre but way too sinful.
She says something I can’t hear, but I do catch a, “Can’t leave you alone, ever. Fuck.”
“Yeah?” I muster out, my breath a careless whisper.
Paige smiles against me, loving the cocky tone in my voice as she responds with a fast nod, the movement making me gasp. “Yeah.”
From there, every moan and gasp from me seems to fuel her desire, making her work even harder to drive me wild. Her hands grip my hips firmly, keeping me in place as her mouth and tongue continue their relentless assault. In the haze of ecstasy, all I can focus on is the feeling of her between my legs, making good on her promise to get me right, leaving me utterly consumed by the pleasure she’s giving.
I come, loud enough that the neighbors might know Paige’s name, but she keeps going. It becomes too much, enough for me to whine and pull away, scooting a little bit higher on the bed. She isn’t going for it, though, and immediately brings me back to her mouth, wrapping my legs in her thick arms.
“Where you tryna’ go, princess?” she teases. The sensation of her mouth and fingers on me is so intoxicating that I can barely respond before she pulls back entirely, rising to her feet. She begins to peel off her pants, her movements slow, leaving me breathless and frustrated.
“Seriously?” I complain.
“Chill,” she responds with a husky chuckle, towering over me in the sexiest way explainable. It’s like she contemplates something in her head for a moment, leaving me dripping wet and needy before her.
Finally, Paige steps closer, her hands sliding down to her sports bra. With a teasing glance, she pulls it off, revealing her bare chest. My eyes widen as I take in her form, unable to tear my gaze away. She then sits back down, positioning herself comfortably on the edge of the bed. “Want you to get on my thigh, baby, m’kay?” And there was no room for argument.
I crawl toward her, a mixture of urgency and anticipation in my movements. Once I’m seated on her thigh, I start to ride it slowly, the friction sending waves of pleasure through me. I truly can’t believe we haven’t done this before. The way she flexes, the way I can feel her muscle.. it’s all too much.
I roll my head back, needing more. My hands find Paige’s boxers, slipping into them with ease as she watches, her eyes moving more than her actual head. My fingers find their way to her core, exploring.
Paige’s breath hitches, her fingers gripping my hip as she watches me intently. “You like that, don’t you?” she breathes, her voice filled with a mixture of desire and all things Paige. “You’ve got me exactly where you want me.”
I stare at her. My body and arm moving repeatedly, my hair a bit puffy at this rate, and a panting mess. Paige raises her thumb to my plump and parted lips, slipping it in. I moan out, forced to suck around it as I squeeze my eyes shut.
Paige is in a trance, completely focused on the warmth around her thumb and how your small fingers disappear into her. “So, so, so good. Love seeing you above me, baby. So pretty.” I couldn’t understand how she could say things like these, and happen to not mean them, but it was the last thing on my mind.
“Mfmfmm, I’m gonna come. Again.”
Paige’s response is a series of breathy moans, her hands gripping my hips tightly as she keeps me pressed down, every thrust and touch pushing us both closer to the edge.
As she finally shudders, her release crashes over her like a tidal wave, her body trembling violently. The sensation of her coming around my fingers makes my own climax come shortly after. I cry out, my own pleasure peaking as I grind against her, my fingers thrusting in and out.
Our combined releases feel explosive, a storm of heat and passion that has us both gasping and moaning. I feel her tremors against my fingers as I continue to move, riding out the last waves of ecstasy before finally collapsing against her, both of us spent and tangled together in a sated, sweaty mess.
I think I’ll regret this in the morning. But right now? I’ve never been happier.
1K notes · View notes
rcvcgers · 19 days ago
Text
Rotten Apples
masterlist , series masterlist , ao3 link
part two , part three , part four , part five , part six
18+ MINORS DNI
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pairing: caleb x non!mc reader
synopsis: you've always hated her. you live your life free from her and caleb. a stranger helps save you from a date gone wrong.
word count: 5.1k words
warnings: extreme loathing, kinda funny, kinda sad, a good mix of everything! mentions of death. not proofread!
author's note: hi! this is my first lads fic! it's lowkey a mess and is all over the place, but that's okay! i hope you all enjoy! <33 please feel free to comment! i love any & all feedback! <33
edit: part 2 will be coming soon! thank you for all the love on this! i love & appreciate every single one of you!
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You never thought yourself to be a hateful person, but whenever you saw Caleb with her, your heart boiled. His smile was always the brightest with her. He always handed her the first water bottle after a run around the neighborhood. His eyes were always on her and not you during study hall. They shared giggles with one another and you were the last to know the joke as you filled out blank homework pages. Whenever she walked into a room, he jumped to her side and aided her with whatever it is she needed.
And she always needed something.
Your friendship with Caleb and the girl you deemed a she-devil blossomed from a young age, having been next-door neighbors with Josephine. You are older than her yet still a few months younger than Caleb, which meant that the two of you had to look out for her.
She was naive in many ways. She always trusts people too easily and is quick to help, not knowing that the world is cruel and is out to hurt her. It’s something you and Caleb bonded over; taking care of her was something you had in common with him alongside planes, absolutely loving apple pie, and always wanting to be the last one tagged during recess.
However, those childhood days have long passed and you’ve settled into a draining routine where you played a background character in someone else’s life.
When you and Caleb reached freshman year of high school, you were sure that he was going to ask you to be his date to the homecoming dance. Instead, you were surprised with the revelation that he was going to stay home and have a movie night with her since she wasn’t in high school yet.
Despite his compliments about your dress, he snuck back inside his house when you asked him if he needed a ride to the dance. She was waving him back inside in the background and he couldn’t have been happier to watch My Little Pony or whatever bullshit she had lined up.
You basked in his frequent compliments when he met you outside your home, when she wasn’t around. Caleb always knew what to say when you had a saddened frown on your face.
“Did James turn you down? I thought he liked you! You’re a catch!” Caleb’s warm words reached your ears and made the butterflies in your stomach flutter. At least he knew then that you were worthwhile. If only he wasn’t so blind to what you had to offer to him.
At least you had a year of high school alone with him. You two even shared a few classes together and had planned study nights to prepare for final exams! Huddled at the desk in his room, you could smell the sweet apple scent of his shampoo and were able to hear through raspiness of his chuckle right next to your ear.
It was fun until she came inside his room, claiming that she wanted to help you two study. That plan lasted for about ten minutes before she whined and complained that she wanted to watch her and Caleb’s favorite show. That night ended up with her snuggled into his side while he stroked her hair. You held the chip bowl, not by choice, and watched as your crush on the boy next door began to deteriorate.
When she finally joined your and Caleb’s high school, you bit your tongue and held back the deplorable comments that shuffled through your mind about his so called beloved. You even held back comments to your new friends about his relationship with her. You knew that if you ever said anything bad about her, he’d come to her defense and shun you for what you’ve said.
It never mattered how you felt. It didn’t matter if you were having a bad day or had just embarrassed yourself in front of your entire gym class when Becky threw a ball right at your face. His attention will forever be owned by her. You’ll never get to know how it feels to always be under his cautious gaze nor will you ever be a recipient of his charming smile.
Truth is, you used to be friends with them. The perpetual third wheel to all of their escapades and adventures. You used to be close to them but as time moved on, they grew closer together and you, well, just didn’t fit into their equation anymore. The funny thing is that they have no clue of their wrongdoing towards you nor did they realize that you had left their group entirely after months of sitting in your room, filled with nothing but discontent as you scrolled through their posted selfies together.
You thought you set yourself free from them. It’s better to watch from afar instead of up close, no? It spares you more heartbreak and it, very selfishly, keeps you away from her.
You can stay away from her smiles. Her laughter. The way her dark hair falls into the perfect messy bun while yours just looks plain erratic. Not to mention the way her hands always lingered on him while you watched, helpless from the other side of the lunch table.
And you can finally break free from that stupid nickname he has for her.
“Hey!” You hear a friend’s voice from over your shoulder. You turn and smile at them, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “Are you ready for the game against the Rams tonight? I heard you’re starting!”
Before you can reply, you hear a thud behind you. Glancing over your shoulder, you notice that Caleb leans against the metal lockers. His arms are crossed over his chest and he wears that stupidly charming  grin on his face.
“You have a game tonight? Why didn’t you tell us?” He asks. Her smile falters.
Us. That damned word.
“It’s not a big deal,” you shrug, placing your leftover books inside the locker. “You two are usually busy anyways doing…whatever…so it wouldn’t have mattered if you knew or not.”
Okay, maybe there is some venom in your tone and malice in the way you throw your books into your locker. To be fair, you’re so fed up with them ghosting you and never showing up to your games that you can’t help but let some of your anger out.
“Woah!” Caleb pushes off the locker and holds his hands in the air. You roll your eyes and slam the locker shut, walking away. He quickly follows and matches your hellish pace. “What’s wrong? You’ve been so distant lately. Me and—”
“Don’t,” you bark. The two of you pause in the middle of the hallway, your eyes locked on his in a heated glare. “How long do you think it’s been since I’ve hung out with you two?”
A look of confusion flashes across his face. You have to stop yourself from looking at the way his face scrunches up, the way his tongue pokes about between his lips while he thinks.
“Hm…like a month?” Caleb’s words are genuine, you know that, but it shatters your heart to know that he doesn’t even realize it’s almost been a year since you two hung out, let alone were in a room together.
“A month?!” You scoff and look away. A laugh filled with disdain and shock escapes your lips. Your hands drop to your side, tightly balled into fists, as anger washes throughout your body. “Caleb, be real with me right now. Do you truly think it’s been a month?”
You want to give him a chance to redeem himself, for him to own up to the mistake he’s made. Everyone deserves a second chance, right?
“I do, yes…” he wearily says. Your nostrils flare, cheeks heating with irritation.
“Hey guys!” Her cheerful tone scratches the inside of your brain. You sharply inhale and close your eyes just to open them to the side of her attaching herself to his side. “Are you okay? You look angry,” she remarks and gently places her hand on your shoulder. You immediately slap it away. The tips of your fingers tingle from the smack.
“Hey! What was that for?” Caleb steps in front of her, pushing the teen girl behind him.
You cross your arms over your chest, eyes narrowing up at Caleb, who guards her from you.
“Just fuck off and leave me alone!” You snap, pushing past them, your shoulder bumping into Caleb’s bicep. 
“Wait!” Caleb’s voice rings in your ears. A flash of hope makes your heart flutter.
Is he going to chase after you? Will he finally ditch her and see how you’re feeling for a change? Will the old Caleb come back, the one that actually cared about you and your feelings?
Your feet hesitate, pace drastically slowly, still in earshot of the other two’s conversation. You can hear his footsteps coming after you, going from slow to quick, but they suddenly stop.
“She isn’t worth it, Caleb,” her voice shoots any semblance of hope you felt, ripping your heart into shreds. “She’s so mean…she doesn’t deserve your care.”
The hallway in front of you turns glossy. You use the back of your hand to wipe away the tears that brew in your eyes. Your once reluctant pace hastens and you disappear down the hallway, becoming just another face in the crowd.
The year passed and you graduated with a new group of friends; friends that welcomed and invited you with open arms. Your camera roll was no longer sad, filled with empty selfies with her and Caleb not paying attention in the background, shifting to group photos and friends completing the other side of your hand heart. It filled your heart with the joy and happiness that your previous friendships lacked.
And most importantly of all: you were completely over Caleb and didn’t have to spend any more time around her. It’s a relief for you, really, and you’re able to go to the college of your dreams and pursue the career you wanted. 
The saddened memories no longer pained you. They no longer dug into your skin. Instead, you planted them into the soil of your mind, using the special fertilizer (the special ingredient being resent), and grew from them.
So what if they wronged you? You were now free and didn’t owe either of them a damn thing! That is, until Caleb died.
The news nearly broke you. Your mother informed you of the news when you came home for a visit. You were on a much needed break from work and were looking for a chance to relax. Your time of relaxation was quickly turned inside out.
You became a shell of yourself, the last memory of Caleb haunting your mind as you holed up in bed, covers covering the entirety of your body with a small hole for clean and cool breathing air. Your cheeks became perpetually stained with tears, becoming sticky in your sleep before the cycle started all over again.
The day of his funeral was unnecessarily rough. Your mother had to drag you out of bed and help you into the shower, the hot water turning cold from the amount of time you stood there. Once you stepped out, body trembling from the cold air, you stared at the black dress that was laid out across your bed.
It was simple. It stopped mid-thigh and the sleeves ran long down your arms. You paired it nicely with tights from high school, a pair that Caleb complimented you on, and a pair of simple booties.
She was the center of attention, of course, there was no doubt about that. The ache in your chest left you feeling conflicted. She sat alone, head hung low, as people walked by, chuckling as if they weren’t at a funeral reception.
You almost felt bad for her and the way her mascara streaked down her cheeks. She clung to a piece of metal in her hand, occasionally bringing it up to her lips to kiss it.
The distance between the two of you felt like a game of cat and mouse. She took one step forward, you took one back. She entered the hallway you found recluse in, you made sure that there was room in the closet for you to hide in.
You thought that you were able to slip out unnoticed until she called out your name.
“Hi…” your voice falls off. Her fists are balled at her sides, knuckles white.
“What are you doing here?” Her words are sharp, effortlessly slicing into you. “I thought you hated him.”
“I could never hate him…” the words barely come out, just above a meek whisper. She doesn’t say anything else. All she does is stare at you with her heartbroken expression, eyes strained and red from the sobs she let out earlier.
A part of your heart broke for her. The other part remained emotionless, knowing how she tormented you in your younger years by dangling Caleb in front of your face. It tormented you to know that you could still hold a sliver of resentment in your heart for something that happened so long ago. You quietly left, leaving her alone in the hallway, disappearing behind a familiar turn.
A year passes. The hatred you held in your heart has dissipated. You’ve watered the flowers you planted in your mind and the petals read off messages of forgiveness and second chances, even though you made sure to never run into her ever again.
Some people can forgive and forget, but you’ll be sure to forgive and keep a distance.
Skyhaven isn’t too bad of a home. Sure, there’s barely any trace of organic life throughout the city, except for the token tree the mayor decided to add about two months ago, but it’s a nice place to live. You’ve made yourself comfortable. The nightlife is great and the rain is even better. You even made some friends at your job and have gone out on a date or two with a guy who is very attentive.
But none of them are Caleb.
You stare at yourself in the cafe mirror, shaking your head. You fix your disheveled hair, wondering how you managed to spend the last ten minutes digging up the past when you’re on a date with a very cute guy. You bite your lip and tweak the last details of your outfit, flattening out a wrinkle in your skirt.
Pushing the bathroom door open, you glide down the hallway, smiling at the other customers who pass by. You can finally go back to…what’s his name again?
Jared? Clyde? Marc, who always emphasizes that there’s a ‘C’ at the end of his name instead of a ‘K’?
You clap your hands together when the name comes back to you. He jumps in his seat, his eyes closing in on you when you sit down. His smile is a little too goofy, missing out on any kind of charm that he can capitalize on, and you can’t help but watch out of the lower half of your vision as he itches his crotch.
“Thanks for waiting for me, George,” a warm smile spreads across your lips. He matches it and leans forward, pushing a colorful mug in your direction. You watch it closely before drawing it closer to you. You don’t take a sip, though, instead letting the whipped cream on top of the coffee melt. You sigh.
You don’t even liked whipped cream on your coffee. You know who would have remembered that?
“It was no problem at all!” George proudly proclaims. His chair scraps across the wooden floor. He inches closer and closer towards you in an attempt to close the distance but you scoot away from him, keeping a pleased smile on your face.
“So, what were you saying you do for a job?” Your question goes straight to his head. Gnawing at the inside of your cheek, you refrain from interrupting him about his long ramble about how he works as a “video game consultant” at a local game store.
The conversation is so painful to sit through. You glance between his beady gaze and the clock on the wall behind him. The ticking hands somehow move slower when he dives into his day to day routine. Maybe the whipped cream isn’t as bad as you previously thought.
An hour goes by and you have barely been able to get a word in. Mugs form into a half-circle in front of you. Your leg bounces up and down, hands jittery. Even your blinking is rapid as you solely stare at the clock.
“That’s enough about me. Tell me about yourself,” George grabs his glass. He ordered a cream soda at the beginning of the date but the cream separated from the colorful soda water, forming into chunky clouds.
“You know what,” you breathe out in a laugh, signaling over your shoulder to the door, “it’s getting late. I have an early start tomorrow so I should get going.” You stand from the chair and snatch your tiny purse from the seat beside you.
The cafe is practically empty now and the sun has set hours ago. You rush towards the exit, the route to the door feeling like it never ends as Greg — oh shit, George! — chases after you. 
The Skyhaven night is nice and crisp. The rain isn’t as hard tonight, just a mere sprinkle, and you rush out into the open, taking a deep breath. The chilled air fills your burning lungs and you’re able to breathe again, that is, until George grabs your hand. You gasp and snatch it back from him.
The raindrops lightly kiss your face but George’s sickening smile makes you want to hurl. He creeps towards you, the moon shining just bright enough for you to see the darkness form in his eyes.
“I have to get home, George!” You nervously chuckle, turning away. You rush towards the nearest bus stop, knowing that there will be other people there to take refuge with. George doesn’t let up though and his movements become more primal and animalistic as the seconds tick by.
“Come on, sweetheart,” George beckons from behind. You can hear his ragged breath from behind you grow close. You brace your body for impact…but nothing comes. Instead, you hear a struggle from behind. You swirl on your heels and stare at the scene behind you.
A tall man pushes George away from you. The moonlight reflects off of the shine of his coat, the top of his hat deflecting the light raindrops. You stagger backward, heart racing inside your chest, as George crumbles to the ground, a blur of red, grey, and blue pushing down on the man.
“She said she’s going home,” the voice growls. It itches the back of your mind, calling to you like a faint memory. “Leave. Or I’ll crush you right here and now.”
The voice beckons to you from the back of your mind, putting it at ease. The voice calls out your name followed by a throaty chuckle. It asks you how you’re doing, if you need help with that week’s math homework. You can also hear his voice apologize to you for forgetting about your plans to go to the movies with your group of friends, making some excuse that she got locked in the attic and needed rescuing.
The moonlight turns dark, the floating rock covered by a cloud, as the figure slowly approaches you. The once soft droplets of rain evolve into hardened projectiles, the wind picking up from all around you. With the weather matching your quickly escalating mood, you march through the rain, the phantom chasing after you.
“Hey! You’re getting soaked!” His voice calls from behind. You pay no attention to it.
The voice sounds exactly like a dead man! A person who is resting in peace six feet under and couldn’t possibly be here in Skyhaven.
You reach the bus stop and hide under the small covering, the rain pounding against the top, rolling off the sides. You hold your arms to yourself and your teeth clatter on the inside of your mouth. You have to tell yourself to not look at the man beside you.
Stranger danger, after all.
“Why are you ignoring me?” The man asks. It’s just the two of you at the bus stop. The stop’s light flickers, adding to the already ominous feeling that forms deep inside your chest. You hug your arms to your body, providing the only warmth in this cold night. “Oh, I get it. You’re mad at me.”
“I don’t even know who you are!” You retort rather quickly, finally looking up at the man.
You gasp and stumble backward. He quickly reaches for you, his large, warm hands gripping your waist, stabilizing you.
He looks down at you with an irresistible and charming smile. His purple eyes seem to glow under the dim lighting. He wears a black and orange rain jacket, black baseball cap sitting on his head. He cocks his head to the side, gaze drifting to memorize your face.
Nausea sweeps over your body. You tear your gaze off of the phantom before you. The cold air pricks the inside of your lungs, rapidly moving in and out of your system.
This can’t be real, right? He cannot possibly be standing in front of you, alive and well, with that damn smile on his face. A single tear rolls down your cheek, your lips parted. Your breath flows out of your mouth in gentle plumes of steam.
“Caleb?” Your voice falters. He chuckles, smoothing down your frizzy hair.
“The one and only! C’mon, you can say it: you missed me!”
You reach out, grabbing his arms, squeezing him. His brows furrow, eyes training themselves on your hands as you poke and prod various parts of his body. You grab his cheeks, pulling on them before squishing his face. He gently takes your hands into his, moving your hands away from his face.
“You done yet?”
“You’re alive!”
“I am well aware of that, yes.” His laugh fills your ears and your heart swells.
Even after all these years of forgetting Caleb, you still end up swooning for him the moment he saves you from Landon.
Or was it David? Eh. It doesn’t really matter.
“How…what…” you stammer, unable to form a cohesive and coherent sentence. Caleb sighs and takes your hand. He flattens your palm against his chest.
How heartbeat is slow and steady…it’s there. You gasp, bottom lip trembling, legs slowly becoming jelly.
Tears freely flow down your face as the realization of his existence sets in.
He’s alive.
He’s here.
He’s breathing.
His last memory of you isn’t you ending your friendship and avoiding him for the rest of your senior year of high school.
You collapse to your knees, hand digging into your chest. A sharp pain slices into your chest as your fingernails dig into your skin in an attempt to grab your heart and to scream at it to calm down. The pounds from your heart makes your ears ring, drowning out the endless pitter patter of rain. Even your lungs feel as if they are on fire, unable to suck in and inhale the oxygen that you need to survive.
Your eyes open and Caleb’s face is right in front of yours. You can hear him speak but cannot make out a single word that he says. He gently helps you back to your feet.
“Take it easy,” his words seep through the sound of your heartbeat, “breathe.”
His hand slides to the back of your neck, warming your body, and his thumb gently grazes the side of your neck. You inhale through your nose, holding it for a few seconds before slowly exhaling until all of the air is out of your lungs.
“Does she know?” the question pops out of your mouth before you can stop it.
How could you even ask that at a time like this? You should be seeing if he’s okay! If he’s in any sort of trouble that you can help get him out of.
Did he fake his death? Has he been alive this whole time? When was he going to come see you?
Caleb sharply inhales through gritted teeth, pulling away from your face. You watch him closely, bottom lip trembling.
You know. You know the answer.
Of course she knew before you! She is his beloved, the one person he will spend the rest of his life with. It’s laughable to even think that you stood a chance against her.
“Actually,” you interrupt him, covering his mouth, “don’t answer that. I really don’t want to know.” Even though every fiber of your being screamed blood murder at you to figure it out.
Is he dating her? Has he ditched her for good? HAs Caleb finally come to the realization that she isn’t some angel that came down from the heavens.
His purple eyes blink at you, perplexed by your actions. Caleb speaks into your hand but his voice is a mere muffle. You sigh and look out at the pouring rain.
You need to get home.
You need to get home and get away from him.
You need to relieve yourself of any memory, item, or scent that can remind you of him because, well, he clearly isn’t yours to have.
If you stay any longer, you’re going to end up crying in the rain, unloading all of your emotions onto him. And Caleb, who has risen from dead, doesn’t deserve to hear any of it. He’s innocent in all of this and no matter how angry and resentful you can feel towards him, you’ll never be able to hold it against him.
“Get home safe, Caleb,” you breathe the words out, slowly releasing your hand from his mouth.
You push away from him and bare the thundering rain on your own, hugging your jacket to your body. You sprint across the street, desperately needing to get away from him.
Caleb watches you with wide eyes, captivated by the woman you’ve become.
You’ve lost all the baby fat in your cheeks. Your hair is longer and is styled to perfection.
You’re bolder. Funnier, even, whether it’s intentional or not. Caleb laughed at your jokes in the cafe, particularly the ones that George didn’t find funny.
Whatever. He’s an idiot.
He heard your laugh from inside the cafe and got drunk off of it. He found himself smiling wider than he has before in the past year.
You took his mind off of his stressful job, which he just came back from, and relaxed his body. He didn’t think about how ling he stayed in that damned tunnel nor did he think about his connections with Ever.
Your laugh turned off the fight or flight switch that perpetually stayed on inside his head. It did pain him, though, to know that you were out with other guys. This George fellow is not your match. He’s a Sul-indulgent prick who only talks about himself.
And what the fuck is a video game consultant anyways?
His job is nothing compared to being a Colonel in the Farspace Fleet. You’ll surely be impressed with that.
You did always say you loved a man in a uniform.
His purple eyes flicker with excitement. He steps out into the rain and follows in your exact footsteps. Once he’s across the street, he turns around and stares at the cafe you two once sat in.
She walks out with her friends, umbrellas covering their heads. They smile and laugh with one another, teasing as thunder booms in the background. He chuckles at their umbrellas but his smile quickly fades when he realizes that you didn’t have one.
Silly girl. Now he has to check in on you and make for sure that you don’t catch a cold.
His gaze drifts to her but the spark he once felt isn’t there anymore. She’s…boring now. Caleb tilts his head back and laughs.
How could he have been so blind?
His focus has been on her all along but you…you are something else.
Captivating. Intoxicating. Enchanting. Hilarious. Fascinating.
Your fruity perfume formed a tent in his pants. Have you always smelled like apples and cinnamon? You encapsulate an autumn evening. Suddenly, he loves it when the leaves change colors and fall from the trees. He’ll never let you fall ever again.
Caleb doesn’t know how he let you slip through his fingers so many times. You live in Skyhaven, too, right under his nose. He should have found you sooner.
He should have gone with you to the homecoming dance. He regrets not watching you during the countless games you’ve invited him to. He should have closed the door in her face when she petered you two when you needed to study for the math exam. It was never your best subject. Lucky, he excelled in it.
And he should have fucking gone after you when you told him to fuck off all those years ago.
But now?
Now Caleb’s going to take back the time he missed out on. Surely, you’d feel the same way when he comes back? After all, he does know where you live now.
Six floors up. The fourth room from the left. You have a stained glass butterfly hanging in your window. He’ll see it up close soon enough.
He stands outside your apartment building with a bright smile on his face, staring up at your bedroom. He can see you move throughout the living room, your shadow painted against the far wall. His eyes follow as you slip into your bedroom. You look out the window.
What are you looking at? I’m here. Show me anything. Give me the signal I need to come and save you.
You turn on a lamp. The light points up to the butterfly, illuminating the blue and orange colors from the glass.
You’re so thoughtful.
How did you know those are his favorite colors?
Caleb chuckles to himself, shaking his head. His feet carry him to the entrance of your apartment building, just barely sneaking in as a couple leaves. He thanks them and sneaks to an elevator, stepping inside as he presses the button to your floor.
Thank you for the signal, he thinks to himself, I’ll be there soon.
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slasherbvnnie · 9 months ago
Text
Bewitched
Mattheo Riddle has a secret girlfriend, it's even secret to her
Bewitched Pt II
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Reader isn't in a particular house, implies they're not in Slytherin. Reader and all characters mentioned are 18+ and in college! Hogwarts. Probably will be a spicy part 2 ;)
Modern!Harry Potter AU, College!Mattheo Riddle, College!Hogwarts AU
Questions first began to arise before one of Slytherin’s quidditch matches last month, particularly when Mattheo was changing into his uniform and Draco noticed the scratches down his back. The boys teased him over it, questioning him on who was the lucky girl who made them. Mattheo just smiled on and let them try to decipher who it was from his giggles at each attempt they gave.
On the other end, questions circled around you when your friends first began to notice the hickeys that littered your neck, blushed cheeks and meek responses when your friends pressed on knowing who mauled their friend.
It’s not that you were purposely hiding who they were from, you just didn’t want to say who it was from until both of you knew what you were to each other. Mattheo had been there during a party hosted by Gryffindor, things moved pretty quickly that night when you set your eyes on him. He was pleasantly surprised the new transfer student had her gaze set on him, so much so that he didn’t reject her whispers about going back to his secluded prefect dorm. There were some more nights after the first, some more innocent than others, but there was never one important question asked from either side.
You didn’t know if the Mattheo Riddle was open to a relationship, Mattheo Riddle had simply thought you two were already together in his own world. He just simply didn’t kiss and tell.
While you sat in the stands waiting for the quidditch match to start, you were brought to attention when Cormac McLaggen sat next to you. “Excited for the game?” You questioned him as he chuckled, “if its not my own, not much,” he joked as you smiled. “Why aren’t you with the others? I’m sure the rest of your team are betting against Zacharias,” you hummed.
He grinned, “my bets are always against whoever Malfoy is against, doesn’t play fair,” he said before continuing on. “I wanted to spend some time with you for the game, if that’s okay,” he said as your eyes widened in surprise.
“Me?”
“That’s not a problem, is it?” He asked as you shook your head no. “Of course not, I just, well I noticed you talking with Hannah Abbot recently and I assumed…” your voiced trailed off as you looked away for a moment.
“She…ah, we’ve been comparing notes recently. She wants to get in good standing with Slughorn, she says the club seems like fun,” he admitted as you nodded.
“So there's-“
“Nothing between us two, I assure you,” he said with a smile.
Before you turned back to look at Cormac, you noticed the familiar head of curls staring directly at you two. Even from all the way out in the field, you could feel the death glare Mattheo was giving to Cormac. It surprised you, as Mattheo had never shown interest in any others talking to you before, but he now seemed distracted as they were beginning to set up for the match.
You hadn’t waited to talk after the match was over, Cormac walked you back to your dorm after, saying goodbye to you after telling him how you needed to study for your potions exam. He promised to send a letter later that night, to plan an outing in Hogsmeade on the weekend but when the hours passed and no letter was slipped under your door you grew curious.
It wasn’t until one of your roommates came in, going over to your desk. “Be glad we aren’t in slytherin, lost a hundred points earlier,” she said as you looked up from your notebook. “How come?” You asked as you set down your pen.
“Riddle sent McLaggen to Madam Pomfrey,” she said as you stared at her, quickly getting up from your seat.
“Did you hear why?” You asked her as you grabbed your cardigan, put it on quickly, and went to put on your shoes.
“No, but I did hear he spent the afternoon with you. Is Mattheo the one who gave you all those hickeys?” She asked as you rolled your eyes.
“I am not the reason they fought,” you said as you went to the door. “Where’s Riddle now?” You questioned as she took a seat on her bed. “Back in the Slytherin common room, I heard Dumbledore is questioning taking him off the team,” she said as you huffed, opening the door and heading to the dungeons.
When you made it past the password ridden door, you looked around before you saw Pansy taking care of Mattheo’s knuckles as she was scolding him. “Pomfrey said I was ok, Pans,” he grumbled. You made your way over to the couch he was sat on, his eyes on you when he noticed you were near.
“Why are you here?” He asked, “we have an exam tomorrow, you’re always busy the night before,” he said as Pansy looked between you two, dropping Mattheo’s hand as you looked him over.
“I heard what you did, I wanted to know why McLaggen is nearly in a coma from you,” you said, knowing you were exaggerating it a little. Mattheo only laughed as he stood from the couch, heading to his dorm. “It should be obvious as to why,” he said, anger laced in his words. “Obvious?” You questioned as you followed him.
“Yes, I thought it was very clear why. Why else would I risk being kicked off the team?” He stated as he walked faster.
“You are at risk with every fight you’re in. This isn’t even your first fight this month!” You reasoned as he let out a bitter chuckle. “Why did you fight with him, Mattheo? You won today’s game! So why are you so angry?” you questioned him as he stopped and turned to you.
His eyes were watery despite the angered look on his face, “I am angry because my girlfriend is entertaining other guys wanting to go on dates with her when she doesn’t even go with me,” he said as he stared down at you.
“Girlfriend?” You asked, a bit taken back and hurt by his words. You weren’t aware he had a girlfriend. “You never told me you had a girlfriend,” you said, backing away from him.
He blinked, eyebrows burrowed in confusion as he looked down at you. “you’re- you’re the girlfriend. You know that…right?”
You gave him a bewildered look, “me?” you questioned, just as confused as him.
“Yes. I wouldn’t- merlin, I wouldn’t cheat.” He groaned, bringing a hand up to his face, pinching the space between his eyebrows.
“You’ve never asked me to be your girlfriend,” you said, trying to remember if there was a time that he forgot about.
“You have been the only girl I’ve seen for the past month,” he explained. “I thought, I thought when you kept coming back that it meant you were mine.” He said as you shook your head.
“I just thought it was a mutual understanding,”
“An understanding?”
“You know, like, friends with benefits. You never said otherwise. We’ve never been on dates! Even Cormac at least wanted to go on a date,” you said, Mattheo’s face twitching at the mention of another.
“I was going to take you for our anniversary,”
“What anniversary Mattheo? We are not dating!” You explained as he frowned, turning away from you now.
“We aren’t dating,” he said, nodding as he continued to his dorm. “You can have your date at the infirmary with McLaggen then,” he huffed out.
“Mattheo! Mattheo!” You called out, following behind him. You reached for his arm before he quickly shook your hand off.
“Mattheo, I don’t understand,”
The dark haired boy turned around, getting close to your face now. “You seek me out just for fun, come to my dorm nearly every night that you aren’t studying and you think I did not develop feelings for you? On the nights we don’t spend in my dorm, I spend all night in the astronomy tower, in the common room, at the Black Lake, anywhere you want to go for the night. I’ve shared with you about my father and his expectations and you’ve told me about your life and interests and how school was before your transfer and you just think I see you as some girl I only use for sex?” He asked, looking deep into your eyes, his own angered and burning with tears.
“You think I would risk losing my spot on the team over some girl I don’t care about?”
A lump formed in your throat, tears filling your eyes as you stared into his. “Mattheo..” you croaked out, your voice barely above a whisper.
“You haven’t known me for long but I never thought you would take me for someone like that,” He said as he scoffed, almost turned around before you reached for his arm, looking up to him.
“I never, I just thought… I- I don’t know what I thought,” you said slowly.
His face softened, looking away from you for a moment.
“I’m sorry, Mattheo. I just figured, maybe you didn’t want a girlfriend, or that… I don’t know. I truly thought you just wanted to be friends with benefits,” you admitted to him as he nodded.
“I never asked because I was afraid you’d reject me,” he said softly, looking down. “You’re smart and sweet, I thought once you knew about my family, my father…you’d run away,”
“You are not your father,” you said as you looked up at him. “I wouldn’t have said no,” you hummed, catching his attention.
“Really?”
“I wouldn’t have a potions partner if I did,” you teased as he chuckled.
“You really needed to study tonight,” he mumbled before he moved your hand from his hand, lacing his fingers between yours. “I’m sorry for making assumptions,”
“I’m sorry for never asking how you felt,” you said in return, making him shake his head.
“Well….since we’re already here…I do know a way we can make it up to each other,” he said with a smirk, you rolled your eyes.
“You just told me I needed to study,” you said as he grinned, “you do, you still can. I can quiz you,” he said as he leaned in closer.
“You also need to study,” you reminded him as he chuckled. “You’ve been hanging with Granger too much,” he teased as he walked with you, opening the door to his room. “We can study tonight, but tomorrow if you pass, I know a special reward I can give you,” he said as he kissed your neck.
“A reward for me? Sounds like it’s a reward for you,” you mused as he gently bit your neck.
“Are you saying I don’t treat you well? I’ll have to remind you,” he hummed against your skin, making you shiver.
“Down boy, time to study,” you said as you walked over to his desk. He smirked, looking at you before grabbing his books and placing them in front of you. “Go ahead, study,” he hummed sinking onto his knees in front of you. “I’ll be enjoying myself, perks of the top potions student,” he grinned.
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