#anyway i could go on and on and on forever about this topic
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sunset thoughts 🎸
A little thing I wrote, that's mostly, like, Klara thinking about life and music and stuff. It's also her birthday. Her first birthday when she's actually able to celebrate with her friend, that is. Because everyone's too busy on Valentine's Day. Anyway, she's just chilling <3
content warnings: suggestive topic mention
Relaxing bath, check. Nothing better than laying in warm water with all the bubbles and some snacks after a long work week and deadlines.
Klara stepped out of the bathroom and took a few steps, stopping by the new vinyl player. She carefully took out the vinyl from its sleeve and placed it down on the turntable, carefully brushing the dust off it with a brush before moving the head of tonearm to the edge of the vinyl and lowering it, letting it do its job. After watching the vinyl for a moment, she took a few more steps and half-sat, half-jumped on the couch bed, then slightly moving to the spot the golden sunlight was shining at.
Tobias peeked from behind the bookshelf. She smiled at the light blue kitchen apron of its, worn over a cream-colored shirt with a fun pattern, and a granola bar sticking out of the apron's pocket. "Hey. Had a nice bath?"
"Mmhmm."
"Good. You look very relaxed. Um, anyway," it quickly turned its head in the kitchen's direction, probably heard something Klara didn't, "What kind of drink do you want for dinner?"
She thought for a moment, thinking of all the possible drinks she'd love to have right now. "What are you cooking?" She still couldn't figure it out based on all the scents coming from the kitchen.
"It's a surprise. But also, something you really like."
"Hm. Are you looking for an already made drink choice or wouldn't mind making something?"
"Both? Whatever you want, honey, it's your birthday."
Would she ever stop smiling at that petname, she wondered. "Uh, um. Do we still have that red wine Leon brought? The non-alcoholic one."
"I think we finished it at the last table-top night. Almost choked on it when Darya asked if her character could fuck the guard to get into that building... But I can check if you want, or go to the st-"
"No, no, don't worry about it. Uh, we still have sparkling water, right? Maybe something like a mix of that and whatever juice we currently have?"
"Of course! The food's going to take a little more time, I'll let you know when it's ready," it said, smiling, and disappeared behind the bookshelf again.
Klara leaned back, smiling at the softness of couch pillows, grateful it had decided not to make the bed today. Something about the soft blankets made her feel safe and sound, laying on them in her bathrobe with still slightly wet hair. Wishing she could just stay here forever, leave all the troubles behind and enjoy the soft, cozy feeling of the couch.
She took a deep breath, enjoying the scent of freshly made coffee and scents of food being made mixing together, floating around the apartment. Listened to the song that was currently playing, thinking of the vintage vinyl player playing her current favorite album.
Both being birthday gifts from today, and the food being a birthday dinner. She had been looking at the exact model for a while now, and seeing it at home when she came from work was not something she could've foreseen. The player was light blue, exactly the color she'd really wanted. Now she only needed to find her paint bottles - the idea of painting sea and clouds on its sides hadn't left her head ever since she saw its photo.
She wondered if Tobias had seen her stare at the store website on her laptop when they were working on their papers together - or at least tried to work on them, and failing miserably at it and instead spending most of the time talking about completely different things - as it was getting them more coffee. Or if she had mentioned it at some point. It's not like it was the first time someone bought her something she wanted, but this player was quite expensive.
Her back feeling a little uncomfortable, she sat up and stretched her arms, then her neck, slightly feeling the tension in her shoulders lessen. She clearly needed that, if not more. It's been a while since she's done that, and the idea of a massage really didn't sound like something she'd want to do. Requires too much trust for an unknown person, especialy when you're slightly paranoid.
Maybe I should just join Tobias next time it was doing its everyday stretches, she thought, laying back down. She could see it - looking through the shelves of their bookshelf - standing by the kitchen counter, slowly stirring something while tapping its foot to the rhythm of the song. It wasn't really what it usually listened to, preferring jazz and synth-pop, but seemed to really enjoy the album. Something about it trying out things she was into made her feel warm inside.
She had talked about the album a lot lately, getting excited at the songs playing on the radio, or seeing merch of it. Thought about buying it as an album, then realizing that she'd probably need a player for it, and getting stuck in a 'should I, shouldn't I' situation about buying it. A problem for later, she thought, when she'd save some more money.
That is, until she came home and saw it wrapped with a pretty, dark green bow. Specifically, a deluxe edition of the album, with a poster and small postcards. Klara looked at the wall and wondered where to stick the poster. Well, now that's a problem for later, she thought and closed her eyes to enjoy the music.
She somehow ended up thinking about last year's birthday, barely knowing anyone in the city she had just moved to, ending up 'celebrating' it at night with Mabel and some of her corporate friends, people she actually bareny knew, if at all. And being on a video call with Måns, him telling her how he sent something to her but the mail is being late.
Or the birthday from two years ago, which she spent most of driving alone outside of the city - with a quick stop in a diner and a cup of coffee by her side - thinking about the mess of a job-studying combo and all the other problems she was going through, spending a few hours sitting in some park, then coming to her and her ex's flat late at night and learning that her ex still hadn't returned from a bar, only acknowledging her existence with a text. At least her friends texted her some birthday wishes.
Spending a birthday with someone she cared about and who cared about her? Not something she was used to.
Tobias didn't seem to care about the day... like it did with most popular festivals. It seemed to prefer celebrating things with its friends instead of celebrating just for the sake of traditions, which Klara related to a lot. She did enjoy some big ones, like New Year's Eve or Purim, but didn't really care much about smaller ones, especially if it's Valentine's day. The emphasis on romantic love the day had always made her annoyed, or how they were forced to make cards for each other at school for the sake of friendships. Not a good day to be born, if you'd ask her. Worst part is, were she born 34 minutes later, she wouldn't have a problem like that.
Every birthday had some kind of compromises like accepting Valentine's Day cards as birthday ones or having to enjoy all the pink, heart-pattern stuff - which she wouldn't mind if it were any other day - or having to hear someone can't meet her on the specific day because they were on a date, or that they were invited to some friends' parties. She felt completely fine with it, everyone has their lives and the selection at the stores is what it is at this time of year. But it did hurt that the day seemed to take a part of her birthday, never really allowing her to fully celebrate her and her birthday only - driving her to not really caring about the day itself anymore and being fine with celebrating it on some other day, if at all.
Hearing her best friend-slash-partner say they could spend it together, and without any overly romantic, Valentine's Day-ish aspects added to it, was not something she could've thought of.
What it meant was a cute, hand-drawn birthday card with a gull on it, the vinyl player and the album, and a fun day overall. A breakfast in bed - a surprise on its own, considering how Tobias's not a morning person - and the post-work relaxing bath, followed by chilling in bed and listening to music as it was finishing the dinner, Klara really loved the idea of just laying down after the hellish day at work. And a nice surprise dinner, which she was now waiting for, as it really wanted to keep it a surprise. Then, after the dinner, they were thinking of an evening spent with board games and mocktails.
She glanced at the moving box the vinyl player was standing on. And maybe we could do some more unpacking. They had moved in two weeks ago, yet haven't really made that much progress, other than building the bookshelf, dining table and setting up the couch. Everything else was still in the boxes due to busy work schedules and the typical grad school fuckery.
Oh, how excited she was for the upcoming two-week vacation she managed to get.
Klara recognized the current song, or at least its end, and slowly sat up, reaching for her bass guitar. She's not the biggest fan of the next song, but the bass solo in this one was just too good - and of course she had to learn it. She slightly swept some dust off the instrument, careful not to rip off the sticker she still hadn't managed to fix yet, and waited for the good part.
She didn't really get to play it that often for last two years - always busy with work or university or whatever was going on, or her ex saying her playing it at home was distracting and annoying. Or not being able to play some of the songs she liked at her previous apartment simply because it was corporate and she was afraid of possible surveillance - a stupid thing to worry about, she always thought, yet never let go. Was afraid to let go? Whatever.
She used to play in a band back when she was in high school, and doing the first two years of her bachelor's degree back in Berkeley. They didn't really make any effort to get noticed, mostly playing on their friends' gigs or at fun events. She couldn't even remember any of the songs they used to play, unless it was something popular or was requested a lot.
But it felt nice to get back into the hobby, even if she was just playing along with some music in the background.
The fingers on her right hand moved on the cold-ish strings, pressing them down at the right chords. Her left hand's thumb pulled the strings - she never really cared about starting to use the index finger instead. She missed the slightly metallic scent on the fingertips the strings tend to leave.
As the song ended, she placed the bass guitar back on its little stand, straightening the belt so it wouldn't stick out. Wouldn't want anyone to get up at night to drink some water and accidentally trip on it.
She looked up and noticed Tobias leaning on the bookshelf again, apron gone this time, the artificial ivy leaves hanging from the bookshelf blocking out part of its face, while the other part was highlighted by the setting sun. "The song sounds better when you're playing along."
"You're just trying to be nice. I haven't played properly for years..."
"No, no, I'm serious. Pretty sure it's because yours is half-acoustic and what they use in the song is electric," it said, walking closer to the bed, hesitating for a moment before deciding to sit down, "It sounds really nice."
"Hmm, maybe, maybe..." she smirked, "You should've seen me with the old contrabass at my parents' house. Now that is a sound."
"We should get one once we manage to move into a bigger apartment."
Klara laughed at the idea, kinda liking it but mostly she just tried to figure out how to place and instrument like that into a rented apartment.
Before she could answer, it added, "Hey, at least it's not a piano. Won't have to bother the people who would end up helping us out with a giant, accident-prone-when-moving instrument."
"God, yeah, that would be a nightmare. Good thing neither of us plays it," she imagined herself annoyingly stopping on every floor of stairs and just banging the frustration out on a piano's keys. "I should teach you how to play a guitar someday. Or bass."
"Oh! Hah, um. You do know I have, like, the worst sense of rhythm, right?"
"I don't believe in sense of rhythm. Practice makes it perfect. It will be fun!"
"Hm. Maybe someday, maybe."
"Of course! And, well, only if you want to."
It looked at her, a wide smile on its face. Klara couldn't tell if it seemed grateful or just didn't know what to say and thus chose to just sit quietly and smile. Once it turned away to get up, it said, "Anyway! The dinner's ready," it stood there for a moment, clearly thinking of something, "That was actually the reason I got up, but then I noticed you beginning to play. Didn't want to bother you and then I forgot about it...."
"Wow, I'm finally going to see your surprise meal now," she said and stood up next to it.
"Yep! And think about it, you didn't even lose to your impatience which you were worried about two days ago."
Klara remembered the conversation they had, her complaining about her impatience and worrying how it will somehow lead to problems, something she always worried about but never really mentioned it before. And how it said that she has nothing to worry about, and her debating that it's wrong. She didn't realize it would actually keep thinking about it. "Aren't you funny," she murmured and gently hugged it, "And sweet."
"Anything for you, Klara," it murmured, "Happy birthday."
#my writing#oc writing#original writing#writeblr#writing blog#writing community#oc story#🔍 ch: klara#🔍 ch: tobias#💡 (kinda) cynosure
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i feel like i type so much more than is reasonable when i do talk to people but i also don't get to socialize a ton so i just have soooo many words in me and if i'm like, tired or short on time, it is so much harder to restrain to the already-pushing-it point i can sometimes manage ;-;
#txt#i am used to posting long things that are essentially a conversation with myself because i either don't#want to bother others with certain topics or i just am used to anything i have to say really being... worth saying...#so i will sometimes go back and add more tags because i'm still thinking about it after the fact and the gap in time where someone#would have said something to prompt further thought is just. me continuing it with myself. bc i'm still thinking about it.#and then that translates into how i talk to other people where i sometimes feel like i either have too much to say without only#keeping what's of utmost relevant importance#(which is also due to me knowing if i don't say it Right Now Immediately i will forget if it does become relevant again)#so i am expecting people to read too much#and/or i then am not... listening to people? or i come off like im not listening to people?#even though i rly do try to be attentive i just forget sometimes to leave space for other people to talk because i am#used to only talking to myself so much lmaoo so i think i come off like i only want to Talk At people due to how Much i share#and sometimes i probably am not as attentive in convos as i would like to be but i try to be! i just dont know if the balance is there#but i also don't rly know how to be more concise bc of that mix of not wanting to forget and also not wanting to be misunderstood#and being so excited to get contribute etc#anyway there are also a lot of social things i HAVE been neglecting by accident i am so sorry if youve sent me an ask etc#and you've gotten silence i am getting to things slowly ;-;#i just mean moreover in active conversations the way that i act is like. i always worry i am doing something wrong all the time forever#and maybe i would worry less if i could put more of my thought dump energy into observing others more attentively#to get a better read on things lol#me coming back to this post as an example bc i had another thought:#i also type rly fast and my brain goes rly fast so while i do clean up what i say typically#others might find it more convenient to be more concise due to typing slower#whereas i don't think before i type i just type as i think one to one#i lose thoughts otherwise but Thinking Before I Speak is a lost art to me rip#but then if i am talking to people irl or on voice i am so much more reserved. i ramble a lot!!#but it's easier for me to fall back
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So do you ever think about Jon embracing being non human and becoming a worse but much much happier version of himself or are you normal
I am thinking about Jonathan Sims having a fraying connection with humanity All Of The Time. Jon who is drawn to the Eye not just because he needs to know but because being an Avatar just feels Right. Jon who has always struggled to connect with the people around him. Jon who feels he was never human in some fundamental way to begin with, always reaching for all the things humans are supposed to be that he has never been. Jon eternally caught between the knowledge that if he ever stops trying he can only hurt the people around him but if he never stops trying he will always be crushed under the weight of his own stifling humanity. Jon shedding his false skin and feeling nothing but relief even though he knows he is going to hurt people now, and more than ever before, and he is not ever going to stop because the chains are gone and they can’t be put back. This is because I am extremely normal and have no problems at all.
(I think there’d probably be some good Jon/Jonah parallels here if we had ever gotten to see Jonah as he was just starting out. Like genuinely do you see the Vision?)
(I do believe this post is like. Maybe the most articulate I have ever been on the subject. Do you fucking know how much “a tragic loss of life, etc. etc.” fucking Haunts me? I don’t have the words to explain it now and I don’t think I did before either but it changed my brain chemistry please I don’t know what to say but I desperately need to say it.)
(I think this was maybe more. Adjacent to what you meant maybe? Unfortunately I got caught on This Concept and I’m trapped in it now. I hope this is alright)
#anyway guess who struggles with Emotions and also discovered it was aro like 6 months ago after years of questioning#and feels Extremely Normal about jonathan sims#tbh aromantic and autistic jon both go SO hard as headcanons#also maybe it/its jon#i think jon fundamentally relates to it/its pronouns in a way he can’t ever explain or articulate#that is made so much more complicated and painful by S4’s. everything.#i need him to Not Use Them but remain agonizingly aware it’s an option at all times#tbh i think i’m more into. like. the transitional period. jon teetering on the edge between terrifying freedom and agonizing constraints#anyway sparky and the one throwaway line in s1 that exploded my brain forever#the problem with this particular topic is i can’t offer a coherant analysis because after two minutes thinking about it i start#just going completely feral over the. Everything.#and my thoughts get reduced to incoherent screaming noises and thrashing#but anyway thank you for the ask my brain is Churning over this ALL THE TIME#aro jon real. and adhd jon real. and trans jon real honestly#like i think jon truly could work as any flavor of trans but ESPECIALLY nonbinary#and this is. part of it.#(part of it is also Projection but shhhhh we don’t talk about that)#asks#it’s not really about aro jon? but i’m putting this in my#aro jon#tag for safekeeping
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sometimes i hate everyone and my life and sometimes i think it would be better if i just died at this point
#except for my puppy i love him i always will#i would probably let him gnaw on and mess up my dead body anyway#but either way sometimes i feel like people dont actually care for me and that im just a stupid loser#i could never be like them i could never get as much attention and love and praise as them ever#it hurts because they get it from someone i know too and i just dont know what to do#even if me and them dont talk anymore i know its my fault but i could never talk to them again now#i just dont know whats wrong with me and what im doing wrong and i dont know why im so unlovable#i dont know why im not interesting and i dont know why i dont deserve attention am i really that needy#sorry this is impulsive and im probably going to crash out and go through an episode but i think im sick and its making everything worse#i just want to be known and i want to be somebody or something i could go on and on#im not going to do anything i think but at this point i feel like im so close to doing something for attention#i want people to tell them how much they love me and how much they worry about me i want their praise#i have my puppy for that but hes different because he understands i love him so much you dont understand#im so tired of putting in the effort when nobody has interest in me and wants to know me#im so sick and tired of being needy when i have something perfect already right in front of me i feel so guilty#because he is enough he will always be enough my puppy is always going to be enough he deserves so much better#but then i cant bear the thought of him actually going out to find better i want to spend the rest of my life with him#i want to marry him and i want to work on myself so i can feel the type of love he makes me feel consistently#i want to carve his name into my arm and carve my name into his thigh so we are bonded#i want to be with him forever and even in my death i want him to stay with me and be by me#i want to be buried with him and i would want him to dig up my grave and throw me back when im all rotted#i love him so much you dont understand i know this got off topic but i think somethings wrong with me right now
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#currently crying because I'm alone with my husband's 94 year old grandma and I'm the only one who ever lets her talk about certain topics#so she just talked about her childhood and youth for one and a half hours#which means. the war#I'm not gonna go into it but it makes me cry every time even though I've already heard it all before#how can you not cry about a child who lost two of her teenaged brothers and had to watch the third one very nearly die too#the stories about how careful they had to be because the police constantly went to every house and checked everything#how they had to hide some of the milk from their cows so they could make butter because they couldn't afford to buy it#and how dangerous that was.#idk I'm so tired of people dying over senseless and unnecessary shit forever and ever and nothing ever changes and no one ever seems#to learn from it#or at least the ones in power don't#as long as there's disposable people (men) to send to war it doesn't matter. and now that's not even necessary anymore you can just kill#people from far away and. I'm just tired#and I'll shut up now and not talk about these things again as usual. it's not because I don't care it's because it (literally) drives me#insane to think about it and I know it's weak and pathetic but I have to choose to stay just barely sane enough to stay alive#can't stop crying. 🙃#anyway. shouldn't talk about it so. bye
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how and why is there discourse about whether or not certain queer identities exist/if people should be allowed(???) to use them. why is "people know their own identity better than you ever could, and they're the only one who get a say on what they are" such a tough concept to grasp
i think if you find yourself offended by the label someone uses (especially if they're a stranger) or think it invalidates your own, it's a good idea to look inside yourself and question why that may be. more often than not, it's a result of insecurity or uncertainty of your own identity (or many other things, but i won't make a whole list here). whatever reason it is, until you resolve it, you shouldn't take it out on people for having an identity you don't understand
many have said it before but it's worth saying over and over. infighting only helps our oppressors. conservatives don't care if you're a cis gay or a xenogender aegosexual aplatonic lesbian, they hate all of us either way. trying to fit in by going for people who are easier targets for them isn't gonna help you, it'll just alienate you from your own community, and you're never gonna please them. the momentary rush you get from hearing you're not like "one of /those/ gay people" is not worth it and is gonna do more harm in the long run, i assure you
also, it is important to me to say this, but having some less than nice kneejerk reaction caused by confusion about an identity you don't understand doesn't mean you're a bad person or anything. as long as you aren't mean to that person, and you take a second to think smth along the lines of "wait a minute, this isn't any of my business" after having said reaction, you're good 👍 a lot of reflexive reactions we have to things are ingrained into us simply by. well. living in a society 🤡 and you're not terrible for having those thoughts. it's your actions that matter, and your second thought (the "wait, why did i just think that?") is more defining of your actual character and morals than your reflex. i know that having thoughts like this, even tho they're unwanted, can very easily make one spiral, so it's important to me that whoever needs to hear this knows this doesn't make you a bad person 🙏 you're good, keep taking actions to be good, accept other people even if you don't understand them, and you're on the right track :)
#i considered adding that last part in the tags but i figured it'll be too long for that 😭#i noticed i'm posting a lot of rants lately. sorry. but i do wanna make sure no one's actually feeling bad over them#if i complain about something that you do or call it mean and such. that doesn't make you a bad person#you can always work to change and grow 👍 it's not easy but it starts with smaller steps than you'd expect#and now i just switched to a whole other topic from my original point. oops#i do firmly believe that any discourse about someone's identity is dumb as fuck#seeing it in poll blogs always makes me 😐😬 like how is it any business for any of us. why is this up for debate#if a person says they're queer then they are. they don't need to pass some test or go through initiation to be accepted#if they feel comfortable with a certain word that's awesome. why does it matter to *you* which word they use#'they're only using this microlabel to feel special' so? is there anything wrong with that?#'this label contradicts [insert other identity that falls under the same umbrella]' ok. but does that hurt anyone in any way#a lot of identities can even be self contradictory. does it matter tho? does it affect anyone in any way?#'they might realize that label is wrong later' again. what's the harm in that.#i don't blame anyone for these thoughts bc like. this is how cishets view a lot of the even more common labels#so you're basically taught to think this way from day one. that doesn't mean you need to stick to that thought process#you might have these reflexes forever no matter how hard you try. but you'll get quicker about moving on from them#but you do have to try. you do have to realize that other people's identities aren't about you#anyway. this post feels like batting at a hornets nest. really hope i don't get some bad faith readers here lol#(i noticed a lot of places one could apply bad faith but like it's 3:30 am i'm too tired to add this many disclaimer.#so i'm gonna trust you to not jump to conclusions and to approach this in good faith okay? mwah 🖤)#also my whole ramble abt morality (in the tags too) is relevant to. any topic really#i may just make a separate post about it really. .....tomorrow tho.
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Hey so Snap this is going to be so fucking weird, but honestly don’t care. So I was watching a clip of Drag Race Philippines and it was the make over episode and I think they were making over family members and this father was all about getting into drag. So, I just wanted to tell you never forget how much of a lovely loving kind and caring father you have, who loves you and protects you and makes you feel heard. That’s all.
i'd have to die before i forget how great my dad is thank you for the opportunity to brag about him again anon
#snap chats#no smarmy one-sentence response i fear i never play about my dad's character and its been. A Month so i gotta be earnest#Comically And Topically tho i still wonder wtf my dad meant when he said 'i always thought of being a girl' when i opened up to him#part of me thinks he was just joking and thats probably it but also ....... //audible confusion + vine boom + eyebrow quirking//#its so funny you brought up my dad though i was thinking of visiting him this weekend#last week my Bitch Ass Mom wanted to watch a movie with me and since speak no evil was coming out i proposed we see that#since starting therapy shes been 'trying' to be closer with us but she still doesnt like me on a fundamental level so get bent ig#but she hates horror movies and made a whole show of not wanting to go and how american movies are so brutal and blah blah#this was right after she took me ice skating with her .. cause shes obsessed with ice skating now ... like maam please#i like skating so thank you but ... idk ... she never wants to do things i wanna do#then again we're pretty different i think so. LOL sorry i like horror movies and nothing you like apparently#im glad she didnt come cause i just went with my bro and since the theater was Virtually Empty we just cracked jokes the whole time vjlaekv#plus i just know my mom wouldve been annoying and i wanted to enjoy the movie !!!! which i did ty !!!!!!!#but yk who LOVES horror movies and who i used to watch horror movies with all the time growin up !!!!!!!!!!#i havent seen a movie with my dad in forever.... the last one we saw was so long ago but it was some weird owen wilson movie i think#wait now that ive dragged my mom into this she started therapy Did I Share That. Im Reminding You Anyway#but the most vile thing i ever heard her say was that she admitted to me she never loved my dad 'emotionally'#like wow ..... a thousand life times in hell for you i think i cant even begin to describe the rage chat i could write a novel#but i only have 30 tags so i wont. i should call my dad tho.. this is inspiring me to call my dad thank you anon#if youre still reading Double Thank You. i havent complained about my mom in a while and this was just funny timing overall vjRLKJAEVK#ok im gonna go talk with my dad now. my college friend's coming oevr in like three hours and we're gonna watch glass#cause that came up in convo yesterday Long Story so that should be funny vjlekjlakj
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dreams, fairytales, fantasies
pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd
word count - 7.9k
c/w - language, drinking, fluff, and ofc smut (sub p, sub a, strap, eating, fingering…it’s a lot) (also heavy usage of pet names bc i am a sucker for them)
a/n - this is just a real depiction of what happens when lesbians go two weeks without sex 😔. no but fr, i hope yall enjoy!!! (feedback much appreciated) (also, im majorly crediting the smut queen @basketball-lesbians bc ease and stiff changed the way i write smut forever).
The much anticipated make-up sex doesn’t happen until a week later, which is about six days after they’ve actually made up—which they manage without the involvement of sex. And that’s a great thing for them, considering they have a history of resolving arguments via orgasm, but they also can’t give themselves the credit because the no-sex thing wasn’t really their decision. (If it had been up to them, Azzi would have jumped Paige’s bones that very night they made up).
That day, though, was spent talking, reliving their breakup and the horrible year afterward for the sole purpose of truly processing it. They had continued talking during that time, of course, claiming to be ‘best friends’, but they meticulously danced around the topic of their high school relationship and the fact they were both miserable once it ended, grieving it in their own ways. They talked for hours, and both of them quickly came to realize that there was so much they hadn’t told each other. Azzi was shocked to hear that Paige spent her entire freshman year moping around, never getting out and having fun like Azzi wanted her to do. (“Seriously? I thought you hoed around?” she said when Paige gave her this information. Paige shrugged and said, “I told you I did, so I didn’t seem lame. But yeah, no. I smoked a lot and looked at our pictures and that’s—well, yeah, that’s pretty much it.”)
Paige was just as shocked when Azzi told her she tried going on a date with someone else, just to get the breakup off her mind, and they kissed at the end of the night and she went inside and cried for a long time. (“I didn’t know you went out with anyone,” Paige said, not particularly jealous, just a little hurt because even though they were exes that year, they were still best friends, and they usually told each other everything. Azzi picked her thumbnail, eyebrows drawn at the memory. “It hurt too much. I didn’t even tell my mom.” That, if possible, made Paige feel even worse).
Anyway, by the time they talked everything through (with some crying involved, and maybe a little kissing, too), it was late at night and they were both emotionally exhausted from the day. They’d gotten ready to sleep and laid in Azzi’s bed and murmured about how much they’d missed each other for about two minutes before they promptly assed out.
And then it was the week, their time consumed with classes, homework, practice, and even grownup things like grocery shopping. They spent as much time together as they could, practically magnetized to each other, attached at that hip when they were in the same vicinity. But they were both swamped with homework and while they tried to do it together that Monday, they quickly realized that it was impossible to focus around each other. Or at least, Azzi did. (“C’mon, we’re doing okay,” Paige said, at approximately 1 A.M., when they had been at it for four hours and had gotten absolutely nothing done. “I wouldn’t say that, P,” Azzi mumbled, slinging her bag over her shoulder and pecking a sulking Paige on the lips. “No more school around each other, ‘kay?” She couldn’t help but be amused at Paige’s exaggerated pouting. “I think we’ll be okay. See you tomorrow, baby.”
That night, her phone had blown up with messages from Paige, most of them silly selfies of her pouting at the camera as she sat at her desk with schoolwork laid out in front of her. Even that was enough to distract Azzi from her work).
So, no, it’s not until Saturday���the night of their second-first date—that the make-up sex (that can’t really be considered make-up sex anymore) happens. But, as the saying goes, good things come to those who wait. And that must be true because that night turns out to be very good indeed.
It all starts before the two of them are even together, with Azzi picking her outfit for their date. She’s never been good with decisions, and this is a big one in her book. She needs to wear the perfect outfit—something sexy and cute and romantic and alluring all at once. An hour into choosing the outfit, Caroline is beginning to regret offering to help.
“Okay, you’re just overthinking it now,” she says, exasperated, watching as Azzi frowns at herself in the mirror.
“If I don’t overthink it I’ll end up looking ugly,” Azzi says, turning this way and that in the mirror, making sure the outfit looks good from every angle. But when she takes a step back, leans her head to the side just so, and turns to the left, the shirt suddenly makes her look atrocious. With a frustrated sigh, Azzi takes it off, tossing it onto the ground.
Caroline groans, flopping onto Azzi’s bed. “What was wrong with that one?”
“Everything,” Azzi replies, going back to her closet to try again. “Has my wardrobe always been this bad?” she mutters to herself.
“You look good in everything, Az,” Caroline says. “And your clothes are cute. Paige is going to love you in whatever you decide to wear.”
Which is true—Azzi could be wearing jorts and a flannel and Paige would still swear up and down she’s the prettiest girl in the world. But love and want are two different things. After two weeks of no sex Azzi needs to be wanted.
“You know what your problem is?” Caroline asks as Azzi rummages through her clothes.
“What?” Azzi asks, sort of desperately.
“Your bra,” Caroline says simply.
Azzi looks down at her bra, then turns to Caroline, a little confused. “It’s a cute bra, though?”
“Yeah, it’s cute,” Caroline concedes, leaning back on her hands and giving Azzi an up-and-down look. “But I thought you were trying to get laid tonight?”
Azzi nods, because duh she’s trying to get laid tonight. It’s all she’s been talking about all week.
Caroline wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. “Then, this isn’t really about your outfit. It’s about what’s underneath.”
As she stares at her genius best friend, Azzi nods slowly, starting to get it. “I need lingerie.”
“Yup.” Caroline smiles, satisfied. “As soon as you put some sexy panties on, I promise you, girl, you’re gonna feel better about yourself.”
Azzi is already reaching back into her closet, opening her special drawer and rifling through it. “Should I wear one she hasn’t seen before?”
“Yeah, for sure,” Caroline agrees, standing up and walking over to Azzi, peering over her shoulder at her array of underwear. “And don’t tell her you’re wearing it, either. It has to be a surprise.”
Azzi pulls a few sets out, but none of them particularly catch her eye, and it isn’t until they’ve been searching for a few minutes that Caroline reaches into the closet and grabs a still-sealed box, the logo of a designer lingerie brand on the lid. “What about this?” she asks.
It takes a moment for her to remember what the box contains. She’d bought it just a month ago, on a whim, and while it had cost her a fortune she also couldn’t not buy it. She’d, of course, had Paige in mind when she’d bought it, but they haven’t exactly had lingerie sex in awhile—with their busy schedules, they’ve only had time for spur-of-the-moment quickies and lazy mouths and fingers in the mornings before practice.
But this—this is going to be post-date, make-up sex. The absolute perfect occasion to wear insanely expensive lingerie catered specifically for Paige.
With an excited smile, Azzi (with the help of Caroline) gets all laced into the set. And once it’s on, it becomes surprisingly easy to choose the perfect outfit. Because Azzi knows, by the end of the night, Paige will forget all about what she’s wearing, the memory replaced by what she’s not.
———————————————
Paige, of course, tries to fuck her multiple times before they even get to the restaurant. It starts immediately, when she comes to pick her up and they share a chaste hug and kiss, and Azzi takes the flowers from her hands and turns to find a vase to put them in—Paige’s eyes trail down to her ass and stay there for longer than she’d like to admit. And then Azzi is carefully arranging the flowers, talking about how excited she is for their date, when Paige comes up behind her and holds her tight. It’s a gesture that Azzi thinks is innocent until Paige kisses her neck and murmurs, “You look good, Az. Makes me wanna make us late for our reservation.”
Azzi’s entire body heats at that, but she playfully shoves Paige away, not about to let their hormones get in the way of this date.
But then, it happens again, in the car on the way over. Paige’s hand rests on Azzi’s thigh while she drives, which isn’t unusual, and Azzi doesn’t question it—that is, until her fingers trace a slow but sure path between her legs. Azzi lets it go farther than she probably should, only pulling Paige’s hand away once she’s fully touching her clothed center. Laughing, Azzi returns Paige’s hand onto her side of the car. “Your thigh-touching privileges are revoked for that.”
Paige groans. “I didn’t even do nothing, don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Just keep your hands to yourself, weirdo.”
And when they get to the restaurant, Paige opens her door for her, guides her in by the small of her back, pulls out her chair. It reminds Azzi of a more mature, experienced version of the Paige she dated in high school, and it reminds her exactly why their relationship was so perfect back then. It also reminds her of the aching need between her legs, the one that’s been there for two long weeks and that now practically burns in anticipation. But, she forces herself to ignore it, to just focus on the romance of it all. Paige decides to make that difficult by running a foot up and down her calf, and when she hisses at her to stop, Paige laughs and says, “You’re imagining things.”
It’s not five minutes later that Paige picks up her phone and begins typing. A flash of annoyance comes from the side of Azzi that thrives off attention, more particularly Paige’s attention, and that’s so used to constantly having it it’s a little off-putting when she doesn’t. But then, a moment later, her own phone buzzes, and Paige sets her’s down with a satisfied little smirk.
Azzi rolls her eyes. “You’re stupid.”
“Look at your phone.”
“That’s rude,” Azzi teases. “We’re on our first date.”
“We’ve been on a million dates before,” Paige says, which is technically true. “Look at it.”
Amidst the usual lighthearted, joking tone of Paige’s words, Azzi also catches a hint of something demanding, something that leaves no room for argument—at least, not without repercussion—and it makes it impossible to focus on the setting they’re in without also thinking of the events that will occur when they get home.
She picks up her phone, and there’s a text from one ‘P Boogs 💗’. When she opens it, she finds a stupid, horny text, nothing short of what she expected: can we go fuck in the bathroom or??
Rolling her eyes, and a little relieved that Paige didn’t actually write anything sexy (because if she had, Azzi’s not sure she would’ve been able to resist), she kicks her under the table and sets her phone down. “No, Paige. What’d I say about no more public restrooms?”
Reminiscent of a small child, Paige crosses her arms and slumps back in her seat. “I rebuke that.”
“You don’t know what that word means,” Azzi waves her off, before motioning to their plates. “Now eat before your food gets cold.”
Azzi has only two glasses of wine, so by the time they’re driving home she’s the perfect amount of tipsy. Wine also tends to make her horny, which doesn’t hurt the situation.
“You’re really okay?” Paige asks for what seems like the millionth time. “Because if you’re even, like, a little drunk, we don’t have to—“
“Paige,” Azzi says before she can finish that god-awful sentence. “I’m mostly sober. We’re all good.”
Paige glances over at her, and when she sees the firm look in her eyes she nods, relaxing into a sly smile. As she focuses back on the road, she says, “Good. Because I have an empty apartment tonight.”
The thought of it—the thought that Paige asked her roommates to clear out for the night, knowing what was to come—makes Azzi shift in her seat. The ache between her legs is crossing into painful territory at this point.
By the time they get inside Paige’s apartment, every instinct in Azzi’s body tells her to jump Paige’s bones as soon as the door is locked behind them. But Paige doesn’t really give her a chance—first kicking off her shoes and then immediately heading towards the kitchen. Azzi trails behind her as she opens the fridge.
“Hungry?” Azzi asks, a little confused considering they just had a fairly large meal at dinner. But Paige shakes her head, reaching into the side drawer of the fridge and pulling out a seltzer.
She waves it at Azzi with a smile, though it’s a little unusual—almost wavering? Not the familiar one Azzi’s used to. “Wanted a little drink.”
“Okay,” Azzi says slowly, leaning against the counter, watching as Paige cracks the can open. She shouldn’t be surprised—she herself is tipsy and it’s only fair that Paige would want to catch up after she had to drive. But Azzi has been a little blinded by the filthy thoughts that have been playing through her head all night, and was under the impression they’d fuck against the front door the minute they got home.
She’s already waited two weeks, she reminds herself. Paige only needs a drink or two—they don’t want to be drunk, not tonight—so what’s a couple more minutes?
“It’s kinda hot in here,” Paige says abruptly, and when Azzi looks at her, her cheeks flush. “Isn’t it?”
Azzi’s a little warm, but it’s mostly a mix of the alcohol and pure horniness, so she shakes her head. “Feels okay to me.”
“Oh,” Paige says, and then takes a long swig of her seltzer. She offers up that strange, wavering smile again.
Azzi studies her. This is her best friend, the girl she knows better than she knows herself. Paige is practically an extension of her at this point, it’s that easy for them to read each other. But right now, Paige is acting strange in a way Azzi can’t quite place. She’s been flirting like normal all night, but now that they’re alone she’s putting space between them. And that’s not to mention the blushing, the weird smiling, and the need for a drink.
As Paige takes an extra-long gulp of seltzer, it finally clicks where Azzi has seen this behavior from her: Back in high school, not long into their relationship, the first time they had sex.
She’s nervous.
But, no, that can’t be it, can it? They’ve slept together countless times in the four years since then. Paige knows Azzi’s body like the back of her hand. There’s no reason to be nervous.
Sure that she’s got it all wrong, Azzi crosses over to Paige, watching the way Paige’s gaze falters as she sidles up to her. “Hey,” she says, wrapping her arms around Paige’s neck, “you good?”
Paige blinks, then swallows thickly. “Me? Yeah, I’m all good.” She takes a sip from her drink. “Why you asking?”
Azzi hums, bringing a hand down to guide Paige’s free one to her waist—something she usually never has to do, as Paige tends to be pretty handsy. “You’re acting…weird, all of a sudden.”
Paige gives her a long, hard look, and Azzi thinks she’s about to deny it again but then Paige is sighing and setting her drink on the counter behind her, wrapping both arms around Azzi’s waist. “I guess I feel a little…nervous, for some reason?” she shakes her head, locks her hands behind Azzi’s back as if to steady them. “I’on know, bro. It’s stupid.”
Azzi shakes her head, playing with the baby hairs at the nape of Paige’s neck. “It’s not stupid.”
“Kinda is,” Paige says, chuckling at herself but it’s a shaky, breathy sound.
“Hey,” Azzi says gently, bringing a hand up to brush a stray strand of hair from Paige’s face, “if you’re not up to it, we don’t have to.” (Even though she spent the entire night suffering through a thong up her ass. The things we do for love.)
But Paige firmly shakes her head, gripping Azzi’s waist more tightly just to show how much she means it. “No, I don’t—you have no idea how much—“
“Yes, I do,” Azzi says incredulously. “I really fucking do.”
Paige’s breath hitches, and her gaze flicks down to Azzi’s lips. Azzi does the same, allured by the shiny gloss there, knowing it’s vanilla flavored from their previous chaste kisses tonight. She wants to taste more of it. Wonders if Paige’s lotion is vanilla, too.
“P,” she murmurs. Paige’s eyes don’t waver away when she hums, “Yeah?”
“Don’t be nervous,” she says quietly, bringing a hand down to cup her cheek, which gets Paige to look at her. “You know me,” she almost whispers.
Slowly, Paige nods, and when she leans down to connect their lips, Azzi nearly groans at the slight contact. It’s chaste to the point of innocent but it’s something, and they’re alone, and god does Paige look so good in this outfit. Paige readjusts, shifting so their legs are slotted together as she deepens the kiss just slightly, and Azzi reminisces on how she’s been waiting for this all night. Since that fateful night at Ted’s, really.
With Paige’s leg between her thighs, Azzi takes the opportunity to bare down, just slightly, only enough to increase the tension between her legs more than relieve it. But Paige groans into her mouth at the feeling and it lights her senses on fire.
They found a good dynamic years ago, and it’s one in which Paige often leads, allowing Azzi to follow without giving her the responsibility of being the first to move, to make decisions—something she’s always been more hesitant with. The past six months they’ve experimented some, stepping out of the comfort zone they had in high school and trying new things. But they still found that, for the most part, Paige prefers to lead, and Azzi prefers to be led—it just works.
But, even now, as Azzi dips her tongue into Paige’s mouth and brushes it against her’s, Paige still seems a little withheld. It’s obvious that she’s overthinking this, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out why—this is big for them. They’ve talked about their feelings and gone on their first date and this feels a little like the last step in a routine that will throw them back into that all-consuming, intense relationship they had in high school. Which is exciting, and it feels natural, like it’s only the right thing to do—but it’s a little scary, too. And, knowing she’s being expected to lead, Paige is worried about getting it wrong. Messing up, somehow.
So when Azzi pushes against the fabric of Paige’s blazer, letting it slip off her shoulders, it’s not really a conscious thought that she’s taking over this time. It’s just—something she needs to do. And, if the absolute fire in her belly says anything, it’s something she wants to do, too.
Opening her mouth a little wider, Azzi sucks Paige’s tongue gently between her lips, drawing it out slightly, and when she pulls off it she opens her eyes to find Paige with her mouth wide open, tongue out, barely five minutes into kissing and already looking so desperate for her.
The sight makes Azzi groan a little, her eyes trailing from Paige’s lips, to the curve of her jaw, to her slender neck, and without thinking about it she slides her hands around Paige’s throat, squeezing experimentally. It elicits the right reaction, Paige’s eyes widening, hands sliding down to Azzi’s ass.
Pulling her close again, Azzi ducks down, moving a hand to the side to kiss sloppily at the skin revealed there. Paige sighs, always having liked being kissed on the neck, and Azzi mutters, “Marks?”
There’s a slight pause, Azzi’s lips hovering just shy of kissing the skin of Paige’s neck, and as soon as Paige hums out a noise of affirmation, she’s basically attacking her, tongue soothing over skin as she sucks hungrily. Her hips grind instinctively down on Paige’s knee as her hands slide lower, down her chest to squeeze her tits through her thin tank. Paige gasps, using her leverage on Azzi’s ass to pull her down harder on her leg. At this point, she’s sure she’s soaking through her fancy lingerie just listening to the little noises Paige is making, and suddenly, Azzi feels hungry. The kind of hungry that tends to be insatiable.
As soon as the thought comes to her, her hands fly to the button of Paige’s jeans, staring down to watch her hands work it open. Paige watches, too, then brings a hand up to Azzi’s cheek. Azzi halts her movements, looking up at her, searching her face for any sign to stop and finding a little hesitancy there. “Hey,” she says, “you good?”
Paige nods, then glances furtively down at Azzi’s hands. “I don’t think I’m ready for—your fingers.”
Soothing her hands across Paige’s hips, Azzi nods, pressing a tender kiss to her cheek. “I know, baby,” she says—Paige has always needed a good amount of buildup before any actual intrusion. “Wasn’t gonna use my fingers.”
Paige blinks, thoughts obviously a little sluggish as it takes a moment for the words to register, but once she does, she nods eagerly. “Shit. Okay.”
With one last peck on the lips, Azzi’s fingers get back to work, and as she slides the jeans down her legs she goes down with them, dropping slowly to her knees. She helps Paige step out of the pants and then tosses them to the side, looping her arms around her thighs and urging her to widen her stance. She presses a few comforting kisses to Paige’s pelvic bone and across her hips, breathing in the familiar scent of her as her kisses stray lower. As she licks up the inside of a thigh, her eyes open, glancing at the girl’s boxers and the wet patch growing on them. Feeling quite proud of herself, she smirks, biting at her thigh and relishing in the way Paige hisses.
“Stop messin’ with me,” Paige breathes, bringing a hand to Azzi’s head and trying to move her closer to her cunt.
“Uh-uh,” Azzi says, using a hand of her own to move Paige’s firmly away. When she looks up at her, Paige looks wrecked, which does amazing things to Azzi’s ego considering she hasn’t even touched her yet. Loving the expression on Paige’s face—lips slightly parted, eyes fluttering, the picture of submission—she decides to try and coax more out of her. “No touching,” she adds, something Paige likes to do whenever she’s being particularly needy. When Paige starts to protest, she moves her hand to her clothed clit and rubs harshly, cutting her off. “You heard me, baby.”
Paige’s eyebrows furrow, either from pleasure or annoyance or, more likely, both. “Azzi, please—“
“Shh,” Azzi soothes, removing her thumb and licking a stripe up her boxers—the faintest taste of her already addictive. “Be patient.”
She expects more resistance—the few times they’ve switched roles like this, it takes at least an orgasm for Paige to take her commands. But today must be different—is different—and Paige dutifully shuts up, using her hands to brace herself against the counter as she tilts her head down to watch.
Pleased, Azzi removes her boxers, salivating at the pretty pink peeking out from between her legs, and it’s all she can do when she uses her thumbs to spread her open, groaning when she gets a good look at the familiar, dripping folds. “So pretty,” she can’t help but mumble, leaning forward to press a kiss against her, licking her lips to taste the arousal left there. Paige’s hips buck, and Azzi gives her a sharp slap to the thigh. Paige nearly whines, which is kinda new—they’ll have to experiment with it later. “What’d I say, hm?” she asks, unable to keep herself from pressing her tongue between her cunt lips and licking upward, eyes nearly rolling into the back of her head at the taste. “Be patient.”
“Fuck,” Paige gasps above her.
It takes every ounce of self-restraint in Azzi’s body to not just dive in and devour her like a woman starved. It’s been far too long since she went down on Paige, even before their two weeks of celibacy, and she wants nothing more than to push her tongue inside and draw out as much slick as she can. But she also knows all too well that Paige likes to be ate slow. So, slow it is, as she licks up around her folds, tongue dragging delicately over her clit.
Her eyes fall shut, focusing on how wet Paige is against her tongue, dipping just slightly into her hole where the taste is the strongest and reveling at how good it is.
When Paige makes a high-pitched noise in the back of her throat, Azzi looks up at her, watching her reaction as she gently sucks her clit into her mouth. Paige is leaning back against the counter, cunt pressed into Azzi’s face desperately, and it’s obvious she’s trying to keep still. But when Azzi’s tongue flicks against her clit as she sucks, Paige can’t help but gasp, hips bucking just slightly.
With painted nails, Azzi squeezes her thigh just enough to get her attention. When Paige looks down at her, she pulls off her clit with a wet noise and says, “Hold your shirt up, babe.”
It’s amazing how quickly Paige obeys, rucking her tank up to reveal her bare chest, nipples pink and hard. Azzi doesn’t even try to stop herself from reaching up to play with one of them as she dives back into her pussy.
Her clit is already puffy, sensitive to her every touch based off the way Paige moans when she flicks her tongue against it. She licks little shapes, taking note of which ones draw the most sound out of the older girl. It’s mostly for her own benefit when she traces the letters of her own name on her pussy, but Paige whines high-pitched and needy like she knows.
Azzi pulls away just enough to see that her clit is an angrier pink now, twitching almost imperceptibly, and she gives it a break, moving lower to suck around her hole, drinking the copious juices she’s teased out. When she presses her tongue inside, she finds much less resistance than last time, and her fingers itch to be inside her.
This time, when she pulls away, Paige whines again—the sound a mix of frustration and desperation—and Azzi soothes a hand up the inside of her thigh. Paige’s eyes are hooded now as they lock with Azzi’s, and Azzi smiles up at her. “Hey,” she mutters.
“Uh-huh,” Paige breathes, nearly panting at this point.
“Think you’re ready?” Azzi asks. Paige gives her a quizzical look and she holds up her right hand in explanation. “Wanna finger you.”
As if on their own accord, Paige’s hips jerk forward. When she says, “Yes,” it’s nothing more than a breathy little sigh, but it’s enough.
Nodding, her eyes go back to Paige’s cunt, gaze immediately going to her hole, clenching around nothing. She brings two fingers up and dips inside, then drags them through her pretty folds, making sure they’re plenty wet. And then, without another warning, she plunges into her pussy, moaning as she’s immediately swallowed by wet heat.
Paige’s reaction is visceral, hips pressing down to meet her halfway, hands falling to her head, previous no-touching rules forgotten. Azzi decides to let it go, though, as she watches Paige’s features contort beautifully, pleasure etched into every sound she makes.
Azzi pulls out, presses deeper. Does it again, and then stays inside long enough to push up against her walls.
It’s then that Paige starts talking.
“Oh, fuck, Azzi,” she breathes, still generally pretty quiet, something Azzi plans to have changed once she’s done with her. “You feel so—good, Az, fingers feel so fucking good.”
“Yeah?” Azzi coos. She loves it when Paige gets to the babbling stage of fucking, and is quick to egg her on. “You like that, huh?”
“Mm-hmm, missed it—needed it—I don’t—“ she chokes on her sentence when Azzi plunges particularly deep. “Oh, baby, right there. So fucking good at that.”
“I know,” she murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to Paige’s clit. “You missed me, right? Missed this?”
“Of course I—“ she gasps, arches forward, “did.”
Suddenly, Azzi speeds up, filthy squelching sounds filling the room as her fingers move relentlessly inside Paige, palm coming to meet her clit again and again. Paige mewls, shifting a little, and Azzi uses her free hand to hoist her leg over her shoulder, allowing for a better angle.
“Oh!” Paige cries out, hands gripping Azzi’s head for leverage. “Oh, oh fuck. Baby, baby—mm, so deep—Azzi, more.”
“More?” Azzi asks, pulling her eyes away from where she’s wrecking Paige’s cunt to double-check. Paige usually can’t take more than two.
“Uh-huh,” Paige nods fervently.
Azzi doesn’t slow down, concern about hurting the other girl cutting through her own haze of pleasure. “You sure?”
“Yes,” Paige says, exasperation filling her voice.
“I just don’t want to hurt y—“
“Azzi, if you don’t give me another finger right now I swear to God—“
That’s all it takes for Azzi to pause her movements, pulling out enough to add another finger, and finding it surprisingly easy when she slides back in again. It’s not long before she builds up to her earlier rhythm, Paige’s hips moving against her hand, and then wet sounds are filling the room again, slick trailing down Azzi’s wrist.
Somewhere between Paige’s high-pitched moans and desperate little whines, she calls Azzi’s name. Azzi presses a kiss to her belly and says, “Yeah?”
“Can you—?” there’s hesitance in her tone that gives Azzi pause, movements slowing once again to look up at her.
“What’s up?” she prompts, gently as possibly through the arousal scraping rough against her vocal chords.
“Just, come here,” Paige finally says, hands moving from Azzi’s head to her shoulders, urging her up.
Azzi softens, mind becoming a little less cloudy at the request. Carefully, she eases Paige’s leg off her shoulder, then works up to her feet, keeping her fingers firmly inside Paige all the while. As soon as she’s up, Paige’s arms go around her shoulders, pulling her in, and Azzi smiles softly at the absolutely fucked-out, but undeniably lovesick, look on the other girl’s face.
Pressing a kiss to Paige’s cheek, she starts moving again, staying close so that Paige’s lips are right by her ear, hearing every sound she makes.
“I love you,” Paige mutters, forehead dropping onto Azzi’s shoulder.
Azzi presses a smile into Paige’s hairline, the gesture so innocent compared to the hand between her legs. “Love you, too, P.”
At that, Paige chokes on a moan, only just managing a feeble, “I’m close.”
Azzi nods, doubling her efforts. “Take your time, baby.”
“Mm-hmm,” Paige hums, but then she’s reiterating, “oh, fuck, Azzi, I’m really fuckin’ close.”
To be honest, Azzi is, too. It wouldn’t be the first time she’s come untouched, deriving pleasure from the simple act of giving it to Paige. But she holds back, forces herself to focus on the girl in her arms, running her free hand up and down Paige’s waist. “Yeah? About to come?”
Paige grasps her tighter, too fucked out to respond, but her following whines are answer enough.
“Give it to me, P,” she urges, knowing words are always the last thing Paige needs to tip her over the edge. “Wanna feel you coming all over my fingers, okay? Need you to show me how good I make you feel.”
Paige nods, and Azzi coos a, “Good, girl,” into her ear, and that’s all it takes for Paige’s hips to stutter, abs tightening as she spasms around Azzi’s fingers, crying out her name like it’s the only word she remembers. And at this point, it might be.
It takes awhile for her to come down, letting Azzi continue to thrust slowly for another minute or so before finally pushing her away. “Too much,” she breathes.
“Okay, baby,” Azzi says, pulling out slowly, bringing her hand up to Paige’s lips once she’s done. Paige doesn’t hesitate to take them into her mouth and suck, and it’s as she runs her tongue between her fingers that Azzi is reminded of just how magical her mouth is. Trying to sound casual, Azzi takes her hand back and says, “Hey, you all done?”
Paige is panting, hands going down to hold Azzi by the waist, looking as if she can barely hold herself up—but still, she shakes her head. “Nah, I can go for more.”
“Good,” Azzi says, stepping out of Paige’s grasp with a sly smile. Paige opens her mouth to protest but then Azzi swiftly pulls her shirt over her head, revealing her lavender lacy bra which leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination. Whatever Paige was about to say dies in her throat. “I may have planned for this when I was getting ready.”
Her pants are still on—Paige hasn’t even had the pleasure of seeing the garter yet—but already her jaw is practically on the floor. “Oh, shit.”
“Uh-huh.” Reaching out, she takes Paige’s hand in her own, leading her down the familiar path to Paige’s room. “You can thank Caroline, by the way. Was her idea.”
“For real?” Paige asks as they enter the bedroom. She plops down on the edge of the bed, watching as Azzi locks the door behind them. Her eyes rake not-so-subtly over her frame as she watches her. “I’ll send her a card and flowers for this shit.”
Azzi laughs breathily, leaning against the doorframe.
Paige raises her eyebrows and then reaches behind her head, pulling her own shirt off and discarding it on the floor. “Aight, I think I can feel my legs again. Lay down, mama.” She smiles deviously. “I’m bouta get you right.”
—————————————
Paige has never been a good liar—which is clear, considering twenty minutes later she has her head between Azzi’s thighs, making her legs shake as she eats her relentlessly.
She’s already put on the strap, and this is her way of getting Azzi ready—alternating between eating her slow and then absolutely devouring her, pulling away every time she gets close to the edge, overstimulating her without even making her come.
“Paige, please,” she basically cries out for the nth time since they started. “I need you.”
Paige only smirks from between her legs, quite cocky considering she just got fucked into oblivion less than an hour ago. “What was it you said to me earlier? About being patient?”
Azzi rolls her eyes (though it may be more from the way Paige sucks on her folds than how annoying she is). “Mm—shut up, you liked it.”
Paige sure as hell isn’t about to admit that. Of course, though, she had enjoyed it, had reveled in the pleasure she took from giving up control, letting herself be told what to do. But now it’s Azzi’s turn, and she needs to regain control of the situation-hence, the edging. “Do you want me to fuck you?” she asks, muffled in Azzi’s pussy. “Or not?”
Azzi can’t say no to that, obviously, but still sounds a little ashamed when she lets out a meek little, “Yes.”
Paige quirks an eyebrow up at her. “Yeah? You done bossing me around?”
Azzi doesn’t respond to that, lips forming into a cute little pout that’s also reminiscent of the face she makes when she gets bratty. Chuckling, Paige shakes her head, pressing a lingering kiss to her clit. “I’on think so, baby. You had your fun.” Slowly, she crawls her way back up the bed, Azzi scooching up with her. “Now you’re gonna tell me watchu want. And you’re gonna be polite about it.”
The demanding tone in Paige’s voice is usually enough to set Azzi right, but she must’ve gotten too big a head after her little stunt earlier because now she doesn’t say anything, just looks at Paige a little defiantly.
Admittedly, she looks adorable, and Paige wants to kiss that look off her face. But she can’t let Azzi think that this is how it’s gonna be now. “Alright, pretty girl. If that’s how you’re gonna be, I’ma get right back down there and make you come on my tongue. You won’t get no strap tonight.”
At that threat (which is baseless, considering Paige is absolutely going to strap Azzi down one way or another tonight) Azzi’s eyes widen, and she shakes her head. “Okay, okay, no, I’m sorry, I don’t—I need you inside, Paige. Please?”
Grinning, Paige leans down and kisses her forehead. “That’s what I thought.”
Taking the silicon in her hand, Paige balances on one elbow as she drags it slowly through Azzi’s folds, taking extra care to bump the head against her swollen clit. When Azzi gasps, her eyes flit to her face, checking that she’s okay. “You ready, baby girl?”
Azzi hesitates, looking down at the toy between them. “It’s bigger than the last one.”
It’s true—this is a new strap, one Azzi herself actually suggested, claiming she wanted to try something bigger. They still have their last one, just in case this doesn’t work out, and Paige is about to remind her of that when Azzi shakes her head to herself and says, “It’s okay, I’m good.”
“You sure?” Paige asks suspiciously. “Because if it’s too big…”
“Nope. I’m sure.”
“Babe, we don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna.”
Azzi’s eyes move down to follow the cock, watching as Paige moves it methodically through her soaking folds, and her eyes grow a little wider. “Yeah, okay, I’m definitely sure.”
Amused, Paige watches as the younger girl stares, incredibly hungrily, at the toy. “Okay, princess. You gotta tell me if it hurts, though, okay?”
“I will,” Azzi promises. With that, Paige guides the tip down to her entrance, pushing her hips forward and against the resistance she finds there, studying Azzi’s face carefully.
After a moment, the head slides in, and Azzi gasps, wincing a little. “You good?” Paige asks, taking her hand off the cock to stroke Azzi’s cheek.
“Good,” Azzi confirms, swallowing thickly as her eyes meet Paige’s. “Just—go slow.”
“‘Course,” Paige says, leaning forward to press their foreheads together as she pushes in further. “Sweet girl,” she murmurs, mostly to distract her, “y’look so pretty like this, mama.”
She’s about halfway in at this point and Azzi gasps again, breathing out a word that sounds enough like a stop for Paige to halt. “Too much?”
Azzi’s knees are bent, feet flat against the mattress as Paige lays between them, but now she readjusts, wrapping them around Paige’s back for better leverage. “Okay,” she says once she’s done, giving Paige a little nod. “I’m good, keep going.”
Not loving the bossy tone of her voice, Paige makes a face at her. “Manners, princess.”
Azzi frowns but still lets out a little, “Please,” anyway.
With that, Paige jerks her hips, burying the dildo inside to the hilt. Azzi cries out, surprised and left breathless from the sheer stretch of it. “Shit,” she breathes, “so much for going slow.”
“Mm,” Paige hums, ducking down to kiss into Azzi’s neck. “‘S what you get for being bratty.”
“Yeah, okay,” Azzi sighs—Paige can’t tell if she’s being sarcastic or actually conceding—and her head falls to the side, allowing more access to her neck, which Paige already marked up earlier.
“I good to move?” Paige asks.
“I think so,” Azzi replies, breath still caught from the sudden fullness.
Paige rocks her hips back, eyes flitting from Azzi’s face to her pussy, unable to keep from watching as she slides back in, eyes widening as she watches her cunt swallow it whole, basically sucking her in.
When she does it again, a little more smoothly this time, Azzi fists the bedsheets so hard her knuckles turn white. “Mmph—so deep, P.”
“Yeah? Feel good?” she asks lowly, rutting her hips flush into her when Azzi nods, building a steady rhythm. Her eyes land on Azzi’s face, contorted with pleasure, then rove down over her body—her neck, her tits, her stomach—until she lands back on the strap. The sight has her leaning down on her elbows, heart racing as she breathes deep to steady herself.
Picking up the pace just a little, Paige lifts herself up, watching as Azzi’s eyebrows furrow, her fists tight in the sheets. The bed is starting to squeak now, which just turns her on even more if that’s possible, and she nuzzles her nose into the crook of Azzi’s neck, muttering, “Hold on to me, baby, it’s okay.”
Azzi’s arms come up to loop around her neck before she’s even done with the sentence, and Paige smirks, pressing a few kisses into her cheek. “How’s it feel, hm? How deep am I?”
“So fucking deep,” Azzi breathes, and it shouldn’t come as a surprise how close she sounds considering Paige has been working her towards the edge for awhile now.
Paige brings a hand down between their bodies, using it to rub a few tight circles against Azzi’s clit, stopping when she starts whining. And Azzi makes a sound of protest but it’s quickly cut off by a moan when Paige’s hand moves instead to press against her lower abdomen, pushing down hard enough to feel the strap moving inside her.
“Baby, baby, please,” Azzi slurs, crying out in time with Paige’s thrusts, “right there—keep doing that, fuck.”
Who would Paige be to tell her no? There’s that whiny edge to her tone, all desperate and needy, a telltale sign she’s getting close. Pressing down a little harder on her stomach, Paige speeds up significantly, angling her hips up in an attempt to hit that spot deep inside.
Based off the high-pitched moan Azzi let’s put, it works.
“Shit, look at that,” Paige says when she looks between them again. The strap is soaking now, and so are the bedsheets, a mix of Paige and Azzi’s arousal leaking down onto them. Angling her hand down, Paige uses her fingers to spread her lips open, groaning as she gets a better view of Azzi’s cunt swallowing the entire dick. “Taking it so good, mama. Fuck, that pussy crying for my dick, huh?”
“Paige, fuck, yes,” Azzi gasps, clawing almost desperately at Paige’s shoulders.
“Close?” Paige asks, trying to gauge where she’s at based off the way her legs are beginning to shake, noises becoming less breathy, more insistent.
Azzi nods, maybe all she can manage at this point, and Paige rocks forward deep, pleased with the way Azzi’s mouth falls open, tits bouncing with each thrust.
They’re silent for a few moments, nothing but the sound of the bedframe fighting for its life and Azzi’s pussy squelching around her cock filling the room. “Hear that?” she asks, using her fingers to rub harshly against her clit, only adding to the filthy sounds in the room. “Best pussy in the world, baby. And it’s mine, huh?”
Azzi only manages a pathetic “uh-huh”, and that’s just not good enough for Paige. “Nah, you gotta tell me, princess. Tell me whose pussy this is and I’ll let you come, okay?”
It takes Azzi a moment, probably trying to gather her scattered thoughts, before she whines out a needy little, “Yours, fuck, my pussy’s all fucking yours.”
Nodding, Paige presses a kiss to Azzi’s parted lips. “That’s right, mama. You wanna come?”
Tears are gathering at the corners of Azzi’s eyes when she nods, and it only spurs Paige on further. “Go ahead, pretty girl. Come all fuckin’ over my dick. Lemme feel it, baby.”
And that’s all Azzi needs, her back arching off the bed, moaning all high-pitched as she comes, pussy clenching around the dildo, nails scratching down Paige’s back, leaving her shuddering. She doesn’t stop, though, rolling her hips deep into Azzi’s through every tremor, only stilling when Azzi shakes her head, tapping against Paige’s hip.
She gives her a moment to catch her breath before saying, “Can I pull out?”
“Uh-huh,” Azzi sighs, throwing an arm across her face as Paige slowly eases out of her. She manages to get the strap off and tosses it onto the floor, a problem for future them to deal with, before laying next to Azzi, pulling her into her chest. She chuckles at Azzi’s blissed-out expression, and Azzi’s eyes open at the sound, peering at her a little sleepily.
“You laughing?” she asks, no real accusation in her tone.
“At you? Never,” Paige jokes. Azzi slaps her chest, collapsing back onto it, sighing as she wraps a leg around Paige’s waist. She’s not the touchiest person in general, and Paige finds it endearing how snuggly she gets after sex.
Her hands begin to run up and down Azzi’s bare back, and when she hears Azzi sigh, she’s quick to speak, trying to catch the younger girl before she inevitably falls asleep. “Hey,” she says, “you okay?”
“Mm,” Azzi hums.
“Was it good?” Paige asks, even though she already knows the answer.
“Very,” Azzi replies, cuddling closer into Paige’s neck. “Missed you.”
“Two weeks is too long,” Paige agrees. Azzi chuckles softly, and Paige angles her head to look at her, only to find that her eyes are closed and her lips are slightly parted.
“Why are you tryna sleep,” Paige very nearly whines.
Azzi lifts her head lazily, resting her chin on Paige’s chest to raise an eyebrow at her. “Because you just fucked the shit outta me. I’m tired.”
“I did, didn’t I?” Paige sighs dreamily.
Rolling her eyes, Azzi lays her head back down, settling back into her. “Lemme sleep, okay? I need some energy for the morning sex tomorrow.”
“F’real?” Paige can’t keep the excitement out of her tone at this.
Azzi shrugs coyly, yawns. “If you’re good.”
Internally, Paige vows to be the absolute best. Even if it means no yapping.
Her silence only lasts a few moments but, surprisingly, it’s Azzi who speaks. “And, babe?”
“Yeah?”
“You’d better ask me to be your girlfriend tomorrow.”
(Paige does, in fact, ask Azzi to be her girlfriend ‘again’, as she puts it. Azzi, of course, says yes.)
(Oh, also, Caroline does receive a thank you letter and a bouquet of flowers in the mail a few days later. Confused, she opens the letter, to find it reads, “Thx for helping azzi pick that fit for our date. you’re a g mama carol. p.s. the sex was ridiculously good.” Caroline sends a photo of it to Azzi, wondering why she needed to know about the sex. Azzi replies with a shrugging emoji and a, “She’s not lying though”.)
#pazzi#azzi fudd#paige bueckers#pazzi fics#uconn wbb#wcbb#wbb#paige bueckers smut#azzi fudd smut#pazzi smut#lilah’s works#that’s so true pt 2
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End Of Time
They were dancing under the rain, knowing it wouldn't last forever. Memories were collected and hearts were stolen. Maybe it was never about the rain.
Summary: What if an exchange student changes your whole life, and you're scared of the day he needs to turn back? +18
exchange student jungkook x fem!reader
warnings/content: violence (slap), mention of blood, sexual content (loss of virginity, unprotected sex - don't be stupid!), family issues, alcohol, angst, fluffy love TT
wc: 17,3k
˚₊✩‧₊2024˚₊✩‧₊
"We are really happy to have you guys here. The atmosphere in the team is also awesome!"
The interviewer has a soft smile while saying so. They have been sitting here for only ten minutes, and more than half of the time is already over. Her eyes turn to the more introverted person in the room.
"Jungkook, you are one of the best players this season. We talked about your career a lot, but you're the only one who isn't sharing his personal life. Like a relationship, for example. Or your first love!"
"Firstly, thank you for the compliment. And yeah, first love and all that-" he says with a polite smile. His mind is going back to a time when he met you for the first time. "I like to keep things in my own little world. That's why I'm not sharing a lot about it."
Jungkook is praying that the interviewer wouldn't ask any further questions. Today he is lucky, and the topic changes; all the attention goes to someone else. He is safe, and for a moment he is thinking back to the old times.
˚₊✩‧₊2014˚₊✩‧₊
It was a Monday, and you hate the first day of the week. Today should be a little better than the other days because some of the new exchange students were coming. The teacher gave you the job to assist them on the first day. Her reasoning: You were the class representative. You don't know how you managed to be one, but you liked your job.
"Yn"
You turn around to see which of your annoying friends was calling for you, only to be met with Tae. "What do you want?! It's not even 9 a.m. Let me live!" You say annoyed that he caught you that early.
"Calm down, dude. I saw some of the exchange students already. Some of the ladies said one of them is hot. We're lucky to be with them on the first day. Do you have a plan for the day?" He informs you while walking to the class. You don't know how he managed to get all this information. He is always the last one to come to school. It looks like he is excited about the whole situation. You don't want to lie; you are also curious about the newbies. They will be in your class for only 6 months, but maybe you will have a chance to make new friends. The exchange students from last year were two girls who just came to bully others, so it was no fun. But this time it sounds like some of them are also good-looking? You need to check on that.
"Hmm, it would be a lie when I say I planned something. Isn't it too strict anyway? Let's just show them the school and eat together. That should be enough for the first day," you say while thinking of other options just in case he isn't agreeing with you. You turn to Tae to see if he has anything to say, but he just nods. "And did you really come here that early to get all the information?"
"Nah, I forgot my book and needed to do the homework. So I came a little earlier today. I can already feel the missing 2 hours of sleep," he makes a crying face. You roll your eyes and laugh. "Did you see Jiho or Jia?". "Nope."
—
"It's getting awkward standing here and waiting for them," Jia says with an annoyed noise. The whole class was waiting for the home teacher to come and introduce the new students. But the whole process was taking longer than expected.
After fifteen minutes, you could hear the teacher coming while talking to the students. She didn't introduce them but started talking about important things and the school. Your eyes wander to the two boys standing next to her. And yes, you do know who the girls were calling hot. You could feel his charm, and now the whole situation is more fun for you.
—
Jungkook is happy to be with you and your friend group. At first he was scared if he could make new friends, and if not, he would be depressed for six months. You guys were hanging out during the school day and sometimes after that. He is also happy that Eun could find friends. For him, Eun is also a nice friend, but he knows that they're opposite personalities. Anyway, the first four weeks were comfortable for him, so he hopes that the rest of the time will be like that too.
It was early in the morning, and he was walking to school. Looking around, he notices that you're walking to the subway station. He runs towards you. "Good morning. Caught you!". You jump a little, holding your chest. "Why are you coming like that?!" you point a finger at him. He only laughs at your cute attitude. "Oh, come on, why are you acting like you saw a monster or something? That breaks my heart," he says dramatically. You roll your eyes. "We are getting late, so hurry up!". You can see his pout when you make faster steps.
He is fast getting into the tram, and he is holding a seat for you too. You sit between him and the window—the seat he was reserving for you. He smiles and looks around. "Are you coming today? Tae asked to hang out near the beach and grab some beer in the group chat. I didn't see your reply."
"Oh, I saw the messages in the morning, so I couldn't reply. But yes, I am in."
"Okay, that's nice to hear!" he says while smiling. No, he doesn't know why he gets so giddy when you're around. He is throwing away all the complicated thoughts. He only knows you for like four weeks. He needs to calm down.
—
The school day was kind of stressful. You got your test results, way lower than expected. You did learn weeks before, and you were confident that you could make it. Okay, it would be a lie to say you would nail it because math is not your strongest subject. Knowing nothing will ever help you understand it makes you feel down. Now you're walking with your friends and Jungkook to the convenience store to grab some snacks and drinks. It feels suffocating; you would rather go home and, you don't know, learn more?
Jungkook can see the little cloud above your head, so he walks a little faster to get to you. You are in your own little bubble, not seeing him looking at you. He taps your head to gain your attention. "We are going to chill and not to a funeral." You stick out your tongue. "I thought it was your funeral. How lame". He tries not to laugh, but it just works for two seconds. "No, seriously, what's the matter?". You shrug. "Just math. I really am too stupid to understand that shit."
"Come on, man, you act like you need to be perfect! It's okay to fail one subject, and I can also help you a little. Tae asked me too, so we could make a learning group." He suggests kindly. You think about it a little, and then you simply nod. Now his smile goes even wider; you watch him for a while.
"Oh my God, finally we're here! I thought we would never make it!" says Tae while breathing like he did six marathons. You break the short eye contact with Jungkook and turn to your friends. "You are so dramatic. And don't get thousands of snacks like last time; we need to walk a little to the beach. I will let you carry them!" You just watch him run into the store without listening. Jungkook laughs about that and follows the others. Sometimes you can't believe how they are older than you. Okay, 1 year is not a big gap, but anyway.
After a little shopping tour and two more arguments with Tae, you are walking to the beach. The sun is slowly going down, and you like the vibe. You are lucky that no one had the energy to go that far on the beach, so it is quite enjoyable. Sitting down, you open up the beer, thinking about life. Everyone else looked also deep in thought. Maybe sometimes this is the best way to sort out your mind. When the sunset is almost over, Jiho sighed. "It's getting depressing. Let's go swim." Yeah, funny you thought, never ever. Of course, all the boys jump for the idea and are running towards the water. Your eyes linger a little longer on Jungkook's body. He is giving a show for real, the way he takes off his shirt and flexes his muscles.
Jungkook is aware of your gaze. For him, it's just a confirmation that you also do find him a little attractive. No? Is he delulu? Maybe! He enjoys the time playing in the water, but the wet jeans are giving him a hard time. After a quick check with the others, they come back to the spot where you and Jia were lying. Jungkook watches your figure, and he is wondering if you were asleep. He can't stop thinking about your emotions and the fact that a school subject is bothering you that much. Are you a perfectionist? You definitely don't look like one.
You could hear the movements next to you, so you open one eye to see what was happening. "Did you have fun?" you ask with a little smile on your face. "The water was a little cold, but besides that, it was fun. Do you want to go into the water too?" he asks while wiggling his eyebrows. You laugh at him, "No, it's too cold for that." His relaxed posture turns a little worried. "Are you cold?". You make a quick 'x' with your fingers.
"The boys and I are going to play basketball tomorrow in the late afternoon; do you want to come watch? Maybe we could go grab some lunch after," he suggests. Deep inside, he wants you to come, but you were taking a long time to answer. "Sure, why not? But I need to do some school stuff beforehand, so if I don't reach my goal, I will stay home." He rolls his eyes. "You need to go easier on yourself." You hum, and then you just watch the night sky. After a little hesitation, Jungkook lies next to you and watches the stars. It was comfortable.
You guys are sitting there for one more hour, and then you call it a night. Tae is the one who couldn't understand his limits with the alcohol, but it's nothing new. Jiho takes him home, and you bid goodbye to your friend Jia, who is living on the way to your house. Now you are alone, walking with Jungkook. There is a comfortable silence between you two. He is staying alone in a small apartment, but you know that there was a shorter route for him to go home. Anyway, it feels safer to have someone next to you, so you don't even ask him about it. When you reach your house, you turn fully to Jungkook. "Thank you for walking with me," you say. Jungkook acts surprised, "Naah, it's nothing. It's on my way home, so no big deal." You smile at that and wave him goodbye. He watches as you were walking the stairs. When he hears you entering the code and the closing door, he starts walking away.
The house is quiet. It looked like everyone was sleeping. And you are happy to finally get out of your shoes. Just in the moment where you open the shoe rack, you see your dad's shoes. You sigh. Yup, this will be a suffocating weekend; it is the only thing that you could think of. Walking to your room, you just pray that no one from your family, especially your dad, would bother you.
–
You are learning for like 5 hours, and you can feel the headache coming. Standing up, you walk to your bed and kneel down. A little box underneath is smiling at you, and you grab it. Going back to your desk, you open it to see all the sketches and drawings that you made. To free your mind, you used to paint something, and every time you're drawing, it feels like a dream. You wish you could become a famous artist who has done a lot of art. But deep down, you know the opinion of your parents. They were strict about your future. For them, you needed to become a doctor or a lawyer. Everything under that must be powerful as well, or you failed your whole life. Last time you had a conversation about going to an art school, you ended up with house arrest. That's also the reason why you need to hide everything related to that. With the knowledge that nobody is home, you start sketching.
You flinch with the phone ringing. The first reaction is hiding everything on your desk. You put everything in your box. After closing it, you put it back under your bed. The person who calls you cut the line. Getting your phone, you see that Jungkook was calling you. There is no way to explain the relief that you were feeling. Dropping on your knees, you almost cried. Why would you feel that way? How unfair it is that you have parents who are not supportive of you. The next thing you hear is something on your window. Turning your head, you scream in fear. Only to see Jungkook screaming too. You throw your phone on the bed and walk to the window, opening it. "What are you doing?!" you say while pulling him inside by his sleeve.
"Oh, hi pretty," he says with a grin. He can't be serious, right? You roll your eyes. "You scared me. Also, I have a door." He scoffs at you, "But it's not that dramatic! I'm here to go to the basketball game with you. You can't say no; I climbed up the window!". You look at him unimpressed. "I would also come with you when you just knocked on my door." He has a stupid smile on his face while saying, "So you would go everywhere with me without a doubt?"
You ignore his cheesy question and walk to your wardrobe. Opening it, you are thinking of what to wear. A black hoodie and some black jeans are a safe option. Jungkook is busy looking around your room. It was his first time being here. You had a minimalistic room with the colors of white, beige, and blue. Walking to the wall next to your desk, he looked at the pictures with your friends. "We never took a picture together. Let's do it today," he says. There was an old picture of you, and he takes a quick picture of it. 'Cute,' he thinks. Turning towards you, he sees that you are getting changed. He looks away; he didn't want to be a creep.
After changing, you both walk out of the house. The basketball court was not that far, so you agreed on walking. "Do you think I will win?" he asks. "I never saw you play, so it's hard to say. Tae is actually really good," you say. Jungkook laughs at you, "He lost all the games when we were playing. I'm just telling you so that you don't lose your bet." You think about it for a while: "Okay, I will trust you, but if I lose my money today, you owe me!". He just smiles. Is it normal for him to feel shy all of a sudden? He needs to win; there is no other option.
The match was almost over. Jungkook played with Jiho, and Tae asked a random dude to play with him, so it's fair. Unfortunately, it didn't change the results; they lost. Jia was the one taking a bet for him, so she cursed the shit out of him. While you run to Jungkook to celebrate his win. You both are holding each other's hands and spinning in circles. Yeah, you know you looked like two kids, but it was fun. "Omg, let's stop. I think I need to throw up," you scream at him. He stops immediately and laughs at you trying to balance. "I told you I would win!" he says. You smile at him. Wow, what is this feeling inside you?
All of you are sitting on the grass next to the court. The boys sipping water and Jia handing you the money she lost. You wave it a little in the air. The guy playing with Tae, Damien, stands up. "It was nice to meet you, but I need to go home. Maybe we could play someday again," he says while looking at everyone. "Yeah, sure, it was fun! Thank you for joining us," Tae says. Damien smiles at that and turns to you, "I would like to grab a coffee with you." You look up at him in confusion. He didn't expect an answer from you, so he gives you a piece of paper with his phone number on it. You take it with a little thank you. He walks away afterwards. Turning to your friends, you see Jungkook's eyes boring into your sides. The whole situation is forgotten as Jiho stands up and says, "Let's go eat. I will die".
Walking to the next ramen place, you notice how quiet Jungkook is. You poke his side. "What's wrong? You won a game, bro." Jungkook pouts at you and asks, "Why did you accept his number?". "I accept it from every guy because I'm too scared of their reaction when I don't accept it. Maybe they would curse me out or follow me home? So creepy," you say with a sincere tone. He looks into your eyes. "I'm sorry that you feel that way. So are you interested in meeting him?". He is playing with his lip piercing; why is he getting so nervous? "Nope, he was not my type," you say with a grin. "But why are you asking and sulking about it anyway? Wait, are you jealous?" you ask while laughing. Yup, he feels a burn on his face. You pinch his cheeks, "So cute." Jungkook wants to fall on his knees and cry. But he acts annoyed, saying, "Fuck off," and wishing you would never do that.
–
2 months later...
Your head is on the table. Jungkook, Tae, and you were learning at the cafe for over 6 hours. You understand more than before, but your head was seconds away from exploding. Tae is in better condition. "I told you to drink more soju. Look at me; I feel like a newborn," he says. You whine at that, "Shut up, please." Jungkook comes back to the table with a tray in his hand. He ordered some ramen and vegetables. Sitting next to you, he strokes your hair. "Come on, eat your food, and you will feel better," he says softly. You sit up looking at the food; you don't feel like eating. Until something is next to your mouth, you turn to Jungkook, who is holding broccoli in his chopsticks for you to eat. You pout and eat it. "Hmm, yummy, right?" he says in awe. You really liked it, so you nod while starting to eat. Turning to him, you see him eat with the same chopsticks that you ate from. That makes you smile. And of course he caught that.
Jungkook is happy that you finished your bowl. Now they are waiting for you to come back from the bathroom. He carefully packs some of your belongings into your bag. Tae is watching him the whole time. "I am worried about you," he says. Jungkook looks at him confused. "You know what I mean. Your feelings with Yn," says Tae while looking into his eyes. If there was a chance for Jungkook to flee, he would. But Tae didn't expect an answer or explanation. "I don't want you to get hurt. If you need to talk about it, I will listen," he simply says. Jungkook is shocked but also thankful that he gave him the option to open up or not. He returns Tae's smile.
"Why are you flirting?" you say, looking at both of them. Tae acts like putting a strand of hair behind his ear. "Oh my God, we will go on a date tomorrow!". You laugh, but the fact that Jungkook is too stunned to speak made it even funnier. Jungkook shakes his head and gives you your bag. "Come on, let's go." "Wait, why are you blushing?" you ask. That is the last straw for you and Tae to laugh like fools. Jungkook makes a quick 'tsk' before leaving. You are in tears.
Tae is the first one to get off the tram, bidding both of you a good night. You wave at him. Some minutes later, it is yours and Jungkook's turn to get off. While walking home, you intentionally bump into Jungkook's side. "Are you mad at my comment?" you ask. Jungkook chuckled at that. "No, all good. I know you were jealous," he says. "Woah, you're really delulu," you say dramatically. "Thank you for today, by the way. I did understand a lot. You're really good at explaining!" you add. He smiles and pokes your cheek. "No need to thank me. We can do it more often, but not that intensely. I thought you would die." You stick out your tongue.
"Omg, Jungkook! Look," you say, kneeling down. You start petting the black cat. It is fluffy and super soft. Jungkook takes a picture of you where you are petting the cat. "I want two cats when I move out!" you say, excited. He wants to cuddle with you and the cat. "So you're a cat person. How cute," he says, smiling. "Thank God this one has a home. Look, it has a collar," you say while turning to him. "Maybe it is on his way home," he thinks out loud. You stand up and watch the cat go. "It was so cute, I want to cry," you say, head hanging. He wants to remember this moment forever. Your interaction with the cat, your pout, and your small voice. If he were to die right now, he would be happy.
Walking up the stairs, you see Jungkook standing at the same spot. "Why aren't you going home?" you ask, looking down. "I will wait until you're inside," he says, shrugging. You wave at him for the last time before your door closes behind you. Jungkook walks in the direction of his house but changes his mind. Turning around, he is walking to the next supermarket.
It is suspiciously quiet in your house. After hanging your jacket and putting on your slippers, you walk towards your room. The TV is turned on, but nobody is sitting in front of it. You feel your heart beating faster when you see your open door. Trying to think positively about it, you walk in. Your room looks like a mess. Everything is shattered, and your mother is in a panic. "What is going on here?" you ask quietly. Only when your father turns around do you see your drawings in his hands. Your bag choosing his own fate by rolling down your arm. There are no words to say. Looking into his eyes, you can see the anger.
"What's all of this?" he asks while shouting. "I told you that I'm interested in art. I just sketch or paint when I need to relax," you try to reason. It will not help; they will never understand you. You don't know which part of your answer made him explode, but in seconds he starts ripping all of the papers. "How stupid of me to think that you grew up! Doing this shit instead of studying! Where are the other things? Tell me!" he screams and walks around the room. Your knees give up, and sitting on the floor, you start crying. Taking some pieces of your art while he is destroying everything in your room. Your eyes wander to the open door, your sister standing in the hall with a bowl full of cherries. She is enjoying this. "Look at your sister! She is working hard to get somewhere, and you! How can you be that stupid?" says your mother. Just as angry as your dad. You want to scream, to throw a tantrum, but everything cut off your air. How could this happen? Your dad comes up to you, forcing you to stand up. "You will tell me where all of your stuff is," he yells in your face. "I did nothing wrong," you sob. It's unfair, you want to say. But your head is like under water. Too many thoughts, but no voice. "How dare you talk back to me?" he asks. The next thing you could feel is a burn and pain in your cheek. He slapped you. You could feel the metallic taste in your mouth. For a second, everyone is shocked. But who would he be when he apologized? Instead, he grabs your arm and walks towards the door. "If you don't want to live with our rules, then you can go live elsewhere," he screams. The door shuts in front of your face.
You stand there for a while. Your mother or sister would open the door for you, right? But after minutes that felt like hours, you turn around. They will not open the door. Walking down the stairs, you feel empty. By the time it started raining, you looked down. You are wearing some slippers and have no jacket. In your hands are some pieces of paper that you called art. There is nothing in your mind; you just start walking. The rain is fast in soaking you wet. Near a park, you see a bench. No time to think about it more; you sit down. You look down at the pieces of paper and at the bloodstains caused by the rain that is rinsing your face. Empty was the definition of what you are feeling. The cold air makes it worse than it is. You pull your knees to your chest and bury your face on top of them. Crying felt more painful than before. Also, you are scared that some creep would come near, but you have no energy to move.
Jungkook hates his decision to go grab some things from the supermarket. He was at the supermarket, but not only there; he also made a stop at the bookstore. He bought two new books and was ready to gift you one. Walking back home, he curses at himself for not getting an umbrella. Near the park, he sees a girl sitting on a bench. He looks at her and wonders why she would be sitting in the rain with only a shirt and slippers. At the same time, you look up at the noise of footsteps. The last person you both expected to see was each other. Jungkook looks at your face; the first thing he notices is the cut in your lip. That was enough for him to run towards you. Kneeling down on the ground, he holds your face with both hands.
"What happened?" he asks while being consumed by angst. Your small hands hold his wrists. You couldn't answer his question; you are sobbing and shaking from the cold. He starts taking off his jacket and helps you put it on. "Do you want to go home?" he asks while stroking your hair. Jungkook never experienced something like that. He wants to kill everyone who was the reason for your situation. Also, he doesn't want to hurt you more, but he is scared. Scared of the reason you were in this situation. "I can't go home," you say, trying to wipe away your tears. "Let's go to my house," he asks. Unsure if he would scare you away. But you only nod. He turns around. "Piggyback," he says, and waits. You position yourself, and he stands up to walk to his house.
After a quick walk, he gets into the house. Letting you down carefully, he walks to his room to get you some dry clothes. When he comes back, you already start changing. You smile at his oversized black shirt and sleeping shorts. Getting the white socks, you start laughing. Jungkook turned to you while making tea. "You really wear toe socks?" you ask cutely. He smiled, "They're really comfortable!". It was weird wearing those, but you felt comfortable. He comes back with two cups, giving you one. "Thank you," you say, taking a sip. "I will go change quickly, okay?" he asks. You nod, drinking from your tea. You feel warmed up, but you know that you will have a cold tomorrow. Jungkook comes back wearing similar clothes as you. He smiles at you and gives you a blanket. Leaving once again to get the first aid kit.
Hugging the blanket, you turn to him. "I had an argument with my family," you say. He sits next to you, listening carefully. "You know, I wanted to go to an art school. I love drawing and everything about art. My family was against it. They want me to become something high. Don't ask me why they think being an artist is low or bad. Anyway, the first time we had that argument, like two years ago, I had house arrest. And yes, I am stubborn, and I didn't stop drawing. Today they found my box with all the sketches. My father turned red. He ripped them into pieces, and when I told him that I hadn't made a mistake, he slapped me. Oh, and he threw me out. " You could feel a tear escaping from your eye. Jungkook is quick; he pads the tear away with a broken smile. "I mean, they are my family. Why can't they accept me with my interests and opinions? Is it that wrong to have dreams? I don't get it; I just want to be loved. Is that too much to ask for?" Your voice sounds whiny. You lean your head against the armrest and cry. "You don't need to question yourself. Of course, it is normal to have expectations of your parents. It's their fault if they're not supporting you. And I know maybe it's easier to say than to do, but you shouldn't give up on your dreams because of them. You're a person who can decide what to do with your own life," he says while playing with your hair. You turn your head to look at him. "Thank you for being with me. I really appreciate it." He smiles at that. "No need to thank me. I will always support you." You sigh and say, "Jungkook, you're leaving in three months. It makes me more sad." Jungkook doesn't want to think about it. "Come here. Let's clean your wound first and then blow-dry your hair," he just says. He is gentle while cleaning your wound, and he also helps you blow-dry your hair.
"Do you feel a little better?" he asks, watching the way you look around. You hum, "I like your home! You put a lot of effort into it." Jungkook smiles at your voice. "Thank you," he says. You come back to him, sitting next to him. Awfully cute, he thinks. You know it will make everything more complicated, but you cuddled up to him and closed your eyes. He welcomes you into his arms. Playing with your hair to make you fall asleep. He couldn't help thinking about your family. It makes him so angry to know that they were treating you like that. He wished he could protect you from everyone.
–
The next morning feels worse than the last night. A headache is bothering you, and you are freezing. You get up from your lying position, looking around. Last night you fell asleep on the couch, and now you're lying on the bed. Jungkook is nowhere to be seen. Standing up, you walk to the living room, which also has the kitchen built in. Opening the door, you can smell some delicious food. Jungkook is cooking something and looks really serious in the process.
"Good morning," you say, pouting at your own voice. Jungkook smiles at you, "Good morning. You did catch a cold, right? Poor baby, come here; I cooked some soup." You walk to the table and sit down. "It's so cold," you say while holding the bowl he was giving you. He sits in front of you. "I hope the soup will warm you up a bit," he adds. For the record, the soup looks delicious and smells like a dream. Without a doubt, you eat it up.
"They asked about us in the group chat, and I told them that you're sick," he says after eating up as well. Only now do you realize that your phone is in your bag at home. Also, it was Monday. Monday is a school day. Your mouth hangs open now. "Oh my god, I totally forgot about school. Why are you here? You should go," you say, frowning. He simply looks at you disgustingly. "You really thought I would leave like this?". You shrug. Jungkook stands up to clean the table and starts to hum a song. That is a good moment for you to go to the bathroom and wash up. Peeking out of the bathroom, you ask him, "Is it okay for you when I take a quick shower?". He turns to look at you. "Yes, of course. In the closet, you can find some fresh towels."
After a quick shower, you come out to find him lying on the couch. You lay down, your head next to his stomach. Thinking about what you want to do. You can't stay here forever; your family will look for you. "I will go home later," you say quietly. He is watching you the whole time. "Are you sure? You can stay here as long as you want," he says, stopping his hand to find your hair. "Thank you for letting me stay. But I need to talk to them someday. Maybe I can move out?" You look up in his direction. "Yeah, maybe that's the best for you and your family. Maybe you need some time alone without them. But are you really going to change your dreams?" he asks hesitantly. "I don't know. I want to become an artist so bad," you say, feeling the urge to cry. "Look, my parents want me to become something important too. But I want to be a basketball player. I will do everything to make it," he says, smiling. "You sit up and show your pinky finger. "Let's make a promise. I will become an artist, and you will be a professional basketball player." He shows his pinky finger too and says, "Promise." So you make a pinky promise. He wants to hold your hand forever.
The knocking on the door made both of your heads look in the direction. Your fingers are no longer in a hug. "Aaah, I forgot to tell you that the others wanted to come over. After hearing that you're sick," Jungkook says while smiling with his teeth, He stands up to open the door, and the first one running in is Tae. "Yn, I missed you so much! Are you feeling better?" he asks you right away. You laugh at his words. "I missed you too! And yes, I feel a lot better." Jia puts some snacks on the table, and Jiho's eyes are going between you and Jungkook. "Jiho, no need to look like that. It's not just me having a cold. I had an argument with my parents," you say, knowing he would state some stupid shit. All of them sit down to listen to you.
After telling them the whole story without the part when your father slapped you because you're too embarrassed, they looked sad and angry at the same time. "Girl, you're really talented, and I don't think you should give up because of them," Jia says. Jiho and Tae quickly agree. "You can talk to them, and if they don't listen, their loss. We can organize a small apartment to live in." Tae suggests. "I don't know about that. I want to move out, but no money, dude," you say, trying to be realistic. "We can be roommates if you want. Those dorms will let us in, right?" Jia says hopefully. You nod. "You're right; we could try that. But don't feel like you need to do that. I can move in with some random girl." Jia rolls her eyes. "Come on, you know I hate living with my brothers. I was thinking about moving out too." You give her a flying kiss. "You know we can send your dad sketches as a letter," Tae says, like he had the best idea in the world. All of you started laughing. "He would kill us," you say while laughing. "Thank you for being my friends," you say after a while. Is it normal that Jungkook is hearing the word 'friends' echoed?
–
Jungkook is walking you home. He wished you could stay a little longer, but he knows that you need to talk to them. Back at Jungkook's place, you guys did some research about a dorm and the chances of a room in the middle of the school year. Luck was never on your side. The next free room was at the end of the year. So you wanted to talk to your parents about it and spend the rest of the school year at home until you can move to the dorm. In front of your house, Jungkook turns to you and says, "If anything happens, you just need to look out of your window. I will wait here a bit." You don't know what to say. He is caring a lot for you, and you don't know what to think about the meaning behind it. It's just that you feel special when he talks to you. "Thank you. I will inform you about everything. Don't worry!" you say while walking up the stairs. Jungkook walks over to stand under your window. He would burn the house down if your father tried to hurt you again.
You knock on the door, already hearing some steps. The door is opened by your sister. "So you came back," she says, trying to provoke you. The funniest girl, you thought. You walk in, knowing your parents would sit in the living room. Your mother is the first one to notice your presence. "There you are! I know you would come and apologize to your father," she says, a little too happy. You can't control your laughter. "No, I'm not here to apologize, mother. I just came back because I live here. And I don't want to live like you want me to. If you don't like my decisions and dreams, it's your problem. I can live with the fact that you will never support me. If you want, you can act like I died and whatever. I will move out at the end of the school year anyway and will live for my dreams."
The room is silent for a while. Your father turns to you and says, "I knew you would never become someone big. It was my fault for not seeing how stupid you are. Do whatever you want! At the end, you will come and beg me to help you out. And on that day I will laugh in your face. Just wait for it. Oh, and I will count the days until you're out of this house. You can go find a husband or a dorm; I don't care anymore," he says, venom in his voice. He really thinks he won? It is a win for you.
Turning back to your room, you look out of your window. Jungkook is standing there with a straight face. You quickly grab your phone from your bag and take a picture.
YN: Someone is watching me -.-
You see him looking around.
Kook: There is no one?
YN: [picture send] Looook :(
Jungkook looks up.
Kook: Omg, he is so good-looking 😍
You laugh at that.
YN: Jokes aside, I'm good. You can go home🙂↕️
Kook: Want to talk about it?
YN: Let's Facetime while u walk home
You quickly call him on FaceTime. Letting him stay on your desk while you try to fix your room. You tell him everything you and your father said. "I'm proud of you that you told him right away," he says while watching you move around. "Thanks. Can you see my room? It's such a mess. What was his intention, man?" you ask him while standing in the middle of it. Not knowing where to start. He is actually sad seeing your room in that condition. The last time he came, it was calming. "Yeah, I can help you tomorrow if you want," he suggests. "Nah, no need; I will throw away the stuff," you say. He watches you throw a lot of stuff into a plastic bag the same size as you.
Jungkook is already home, but you are in the flow of cleaning up, so he starts to clean up too. When both of you are done, it is already 2 am. You lay down on your bed with your phone. It didn't last long until you fell asleep. Jungkook comes back to his phone after realizing that you're not answering. He sees you sleeping and smiles. Okay, he takes a screenshot. Wishing you a good night, he hung up.
–
2 months later...
The time passed quickly. Now there are only four weeks left until Jungkook is returning home. You spent all day together, sometimes just the two of you, other times with your friends. Not only Tae, but all of your friends could see that Jungkook had obvious feelings for you. You were good at hiding what you felt.
It is almost 11 p.m., and you are working on your sketch. To be honest, you have been working on this one for weeks. You want to give it to Jungkook as a gift. It was a portrait of him wearing his favorite basketball team's jersey. The number '97' on the front side. The cozy mood in your room shifted when you heard your phone ringing. You sigh and pick up. "What do you want, Tae?". "Yn, could you come and pick us up? We are soooo full of drinks that it is cra-," he says while burping at the end. "Who are we?" you ask. You could hear the music in the back.
"Me and Jungkook silly," he says, laughing. Did you hear him right? Jungkook never told you about going out tonight. "Send me your location," you say, not waiting for a response. You hang up. You change into a pair of jeans and a tight black top. Getting your purse, you walk out of the house. Walking to the next taxi point, you check out the location. Fortunately, it was not that far away.
You step out of the car and walk into the location. It is a really crowded bar. You should wear something else and dance a little. Walking through the people with a small 'excuse me,' you give your best looking for them. In one corner, you see both of them with pretty girls around. Oh, okay, someone has fun; you thought watching Jungkook. He feels a burning stare on his face and immediately turns in your direction. You never saw him that drunk. He is waving at you with puppy eyes and a big smile. For a minute, you feel like a sky full of stars. You walk to them to stand in front of the table. Tapping your feet on the floor, you say, "What is going on here?" Tae gets scared and stops talking to the girl next to him. "It was so boring without you," Jungkook says, trying to reach your hand. Cute, you thought. The girls are not that happy about your arrival. You turn to one of them. "Sorry to interrupt, but I need to take them home." Surprisingly, she is kind and left with the other girls. "And you both! Follow me," you say, trying to look dangerous. You walk to the door, and after looking over your shoulder, you see that they are following you with their heads down. Oh, you totally feel like their mother.
Outside, you look at both of them. "Let's wait here for a taxi," you say. Then you decide to bring both of them to a wall on which they could lean. They are drunk as fuck. And of course there are no taxis around. You sigh in annoyance. "Can you both walk? There is no taxi; all are full. Maybe we could grab a coffee somewhere and go with a bus?" you suggest. "I'm fine; let's go," Jungkook says with a smirk. You want to rip that out of his face because you're melting. You stand in the middle of both, Tae holding one of your arms and Jungkook acting like he is totally fine. You guys start to walk down the street.
After ten minutes, you see an open cafe. You turn to Jungkook, "I will grab some coffee. Stay here with Tae, okay? You guys can also sit down on the sidewalk," you say. He nods his head, watching you walk in. "Look at those; they are laughing at us," Tae says while looking at a group of men. Jungkook looks in their direction. The group of men stopped talking and turned fully to them. "What are you looking at?" one of them says. "You're laughing at us!" Tae says. All of the men start laughing. "Come on, stupid boy, turn around. Your ugly face is giving me a hard time," another man says. "Who are you calling ugly?" Jungkook says, walking in the direction. At this moment, you walk out with two coffee cups in your hand. You are shocked to see that some of the men are walking towards Jungkook and that Jungkook and Tae are walking to the men. "You little shit, I will fuck you up," the man says. That is a clear signal for you to cut in.
"I'm so sorry, please stop this," you say while walking to Tae. Jungkook gives you a side eye. Not liking the fact that you apologized. "Go to the side, lady, if you don't want to get hurt," the shorter man says. "Who are you to talk to her like that?" Tae says. Jungkook was ready to throw a punch. You watch all the men standing there. There are five people, and you would count Jungkook and Tae as one person due to the fact that they were drunk. Without thinking much, you throw both of the coffee cups in the direction of the men. A loud gasp is heard from them. The coffee was hot. You turn to Jungkook and Tae and scream, "Run!".
You never ran away like this. The group of men is hot on your tracks. You feel like passing out at any moment. The energy is leaving your body. Jungkook notices that and holds your hand to pull you with him. After a run into small alleys, you stop. They lost you. Jungkook leans on the wall. Tae is sitting on the floor, and you are holding your knees. All of you needed a moment to catch your breath. When you look at both of them, you start laughing. It is so loud that an old woman opened her window to yell at you. With that, you walk away.
On your way, you finally found a taxi. Firstly, you made a stop at Tae's house. You help him get inside. Returning to the taxi, you give Jungkook's address. He is leaning against the window with a big smile. You look at him in question. "Are you mad at me?" he asks. He stopped smiling and looked like he was seconds away from crying. "Why should I?" you ask back. "I didn't know that he wanted to go to a bar. I would tell you. You know that, right?" He reaches for your hand. Now he is playing with your fingers. "Don't worry, I know you would tell me. I was just a little shocked," you say while smiling at him.
The car stops in front of his house, so you head out and help him get into the house. He sits down on the couch, and you help him get out of his shoes. "Next time when you go to a bar, you shouldn't drink that much. You both did! What would you do if nobody could get you?" you scold him. "I swear I said just one glass, and then he said, don't be a pussycat; drink more," Jungkook says. You look at him annoyed, "Wow, so smart of you." After helping him take off his shirt, you ask, "What were you guys talking about with the girls?". He scrunches his nose and replies, "Nothing; they were bubbling. Why are you asking?". You hum and toss the clean shirt in his face. "Ouch!" he says, still catching it. "Oh, sorry, I thought you saw me throwing it," you say. "Noooo, you're jealous!" he says after putting the shirt on. He quickly changes his jeans into black jogging pants. "I'm not jealous," you say. "I don't believe you! Don't worry, baby, you will be my number one forever," he says while wiggling his eyebrows. "Oh, shut up. Come on, go do your nightly routine, and then go sleep," you say after tossing the clothes that he took off into the laundry basket. "But you will stay here, right?" he asks with puppy eyes. You nod and smile at him.
After his nightly routine, Jungkook went to bed and fell asleep in the same second his head touched the pillow. You watch him from the doorframe. A little sad about the fact that he is leaving soon. You wish he would stay forever. Also, you do know that you two had a different bond than with the others. But nothing precious like this lasts forever, right?
–
It was early in the morning, and you were standing in Jungkook's kitchen. You were never good at cooking, but today you want to top your own skills. Tasting the soup, you scrunch your face. Yeah, you should do a favor for everyone and never cook again. You add some seasoning to make it more tasty. It is weird to feel that much like it's your own home. The thought of this ending soon makes you sad.
You are in your thoughts when Jungkook comes out of his room, his feet sweeping the whole floor. You turn around and watch his tired face until he looks up to meet you. He immediately starts smiling, "I thought you left." You gasp, "I was cooking for you! Come eat some, and then you can take some painkillers," you add. Jungkook rushes to his chair and starts eating. "You don't want to eat?" he asks you. You just shook your head. "Nope, I will meet Jia later. We have a girls date." He nods. Watching him eat was enough for you to light up your mood.
"Why did Tae want to go to a bar?" you ask while cleaning the space you used for cooking. He is done with eating. "I don't know; he told me he felt like it," he answers. It would be a lie if he said that he is not scared of your opinion about him now. The last thing he wants is for you to get a false impression of him. You walk towards him and hand him the painkillers with a glass of water. He gives you a flying kiss and swallows. "I need to go now. You can rest a bit," you suggest. Jungkook looks at you with puppy eyes. "Have fun," he says. You waved at him and left the apartment.
After doing his morning routine, Jungkook sits down with a paper and a pen. If anyone were to tell him that he was going to write a letter, he would definitely laugh at that. But no, it was the truth. He was shy to say the thoughts he had in his head, and he was a better writer. So why not write a letter about his feelings? He starts writing, and it got longer than he expected. After some hours, he finishes writing and looks around. Of course he needed to rewrite the letter over and over again. So he stands up and throws the scattered papers away. On his way back, he gets an envelope to put his letter in. Will he ever be able to give it to you?
–
11:30 PM
Jungkook wakes up from his sleep. His phone is vibrating the whole time. He doesn't know when he fell asleep. Sitting up, he gets his phone and sees missed calls and messages from you. He feels nervous scrolling through the messages.
Yn: I think I'm in trouble?!?!?!
Yn: Could you maybe pick us up?
Yn: I guess you're asleep. Sorry for disturbing.
He didn't waste more time reading all of your messages; instead, he called you right away. It took you longer to answer, and he didn't even realize that he was holding his breath. "Omg, Jungkook?!" you ask, out of breath. "What happened? Are you okay? I fell asleep, so I didn't see your messages," he asks. You sigh and add, "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you worry. We got in trouble with some guys. We're at the hospital right now. But we're okay! Jiho is on the way." Jungkook stands up and walks to the door. "I'm coming," he says while rushing down the stairs. You could hear him running.
"Thank you for coming, Jiho," Jia says. You could see that she was tired. "Jiho, could you bring her home? I will walk; it's not that far," you ask him. "Is Jungkook coming?" he asks back. "Yes, he was on his way. I will walk with him; don't worry," you say and wave at them. At the same time, you see Jungkook rushing towards you. You try to smile because you know he would scold you a little.
"Omg, what happened?" he asks right away. "Good night to you too," you say, half joking. You pull him with you while walking home. "We just had an argument with some dudes. They were bullying a young boy, so we tried to help him. But they were a little drunk and started to push us. Then the police came out of nowhere, and we escaped without realizing that we didn't do anything wrong. That's it," you say nonchalantly. He looks at you in shock. "Did you get hurt? Why would you run away?!" he asks while checking up on you. "I just scratched my arm because I felt down. But it doesn't hurt anymore," you say, holding his wrist. "Yn! It's so dangerous to get into an argument with strangers. Why would you do that?!". "Oh, come on, Jungkook! I just wanted to help that poor boy!" you say, scoffing. He looks at you like, 'Oh, really?' "You could call the police," he says. Yes, you could, but in that moment everything happened so fast that you forgot to think about it.
"Stop scolding me! I will never call you again," you say, getting mad at him. "Oh, come on! You know that I'm right. I'm just thinking about you. Show me your injury," he says a little softer. "I don't want to," you say, pouting at him. He starts stroking your hair. "Come on. I'm just worried about you, and I don't want you to get hurt." You give him a side eye. "Next time call me and I'll show them what it is to argue with you," he says, wiggling his eyebrows. It's his way of making you laugh by saying random things. You just want him to go on and see his limits. "I'm getting sad. Are you ignoring me for real? Did I say something wrong? That wasn't my intention. I just got scared, and also I don't want to come to the hospital and see you in other conditions," he says, looking at his shoes. "I'm not mad! I just wanted to give you the silent treatment. I know that it was stupid to get into a fight with them. That was the last time. We were a little stupid, I promise," you say, patting his head. He immediately smiles up. It was nice to know someone cared for you.
–
School days are always boring and tiring. Today is exactly the same way. You and your friends are sitting in the school cafeteria because of the one lesson where the teacher was sick and you guys had study time for your own. You are drinking mango juice while taking notes for the next lesson. "Did you look for some colleges to go to after finals?" Jia asks. Tae scoffs at the question, "Why is everyone asking that? My parents also started talking about it, and I really feel nervous." You pat his back with a sad smile. "I'm interested in laws, maybe in that area something," Jiho says. To be honest, you are thinking about this question a lot because you know you have to deal with your parents. You had a lot of discussions with them, and you know their opinions will never change, but it felt like a big stone in front of your dreams. It's hard to go on a lonely journey without them, and you're scared that things will turn out differently than expected. Jungkook notices that you were deep in thought, so he slightly taps your arm. Turning towards him, you smile softly. "What about you? Art, is it right?" he asks and tilts his head, remembering the pinky promise. "I'm not sure about it," you answer honestly. The other three are deep in conversation, so it feels a little easier to open up. "What's that supposed to mean? I thought it was a big dream of yours," he says, looking a little confused. "Yeah, it is. But I'm not ready to deal with my family, I guess.".
"You know it's your life, and nobody should dig into it. Why would you give up your dream for them? I know they're family, but at the end of the day, you can try what you dream of." He is looking into your eyes with hope. "It's easy for you to say so, Jungkook. I've been dealing with them for over five years about this topic. It was not allowed to own things based on art. Do you really think they will be okay with it? I know I told them that I would move out and live my dream. But I don't know what if I'm the only one thinking it is worth it? Sometimes I overthink about it. At the end, my decision is my dream, but I'm also confused." you say with a straight face. "Look, I know what you mean, but if you go to that college, they will accept it at the end of the day, and you're thinking too much about it," he says. "No, they will not. They will wait for a moment to see me fall so that they can say we told you. And you know they would never offer me a helping hand. If I go for my dreams, I will lose them. And this doesn't even sound scary. I would be okay with that now, but will I be in the future?" you say while shaking your head. "Ah, come on, that's too dramatic. You need to take a risk sometimes. I also have the feeling that you're scared. Why don't you trust your skills?
Don't be a chicken and be scared of a new way!". He is scolding you for your words.
It is strange to feel hurt by that because he was trying to give you some courage. You also don't know why the next words come out like that. "Sorry that I'm scared to be alone and confused about my future. I wish my parents would be like yours, sending me to other cities and countries for my dreams. We are not on the same boat, Jungkook." His words feel like salt over a wound. How pathetic! You need to give up all your dreams for your parents, and other parents would give up everything to fulfill their children's dreams. Jungkook is stunned to say anything; it totally took him off. You gather your things and thoughts. "I need some books at the library; see you in class" are your last words before leaving. Jungkook watches you and turns to his friends, who are looking at him questioningly. "What happened?" Tae asks. "I think I crossed a line without realizing." He could feel a sting in his chest. It never was his intention to hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable.
Jungkook wanted to talk to you again, but you were busy doing other stuff. Ignoring him till the end of the school day and also disappearing on the way home. For him, it feels like weight.
–
"Oh, come on, man, slow down," Tae says while trying to get the bottle in Jungkook's hand. "I texted her, and she didn't even respond to me. She will never talk to me again? Fuck, I never thought I would make her feel hurt," he responds. The boys met for a drinking session, and he was already tipsy.
"Bro, maybe she wanted to think it over before talking with you. She does that a lot. You know we had a lot of arguments, and she never ghosted me," Jiho says with a little smile. Jungkook finishes his glass full of soju. "I don't know," he says. He will try every chance to talk to you again, but he feels like shit knowing that he hurt you. "You can buy something really big for her birthday! It's on the weekend, remember?" Tae suggests. Jungkook freezes on his spot. "Her birthday?" he asks. "Yeah, on Saturday," Jiho answers. "She will not invite me to her birthday, right?" he cries out. Both men are shocked and watch his little tantrum. "I will go and talk to her," Jungkook says while getting up. Tae tries to stop him, but it isn't working. He is already on his way to you.
You are brushing your hair after a shower and also think about the conversation with Jungkook. Yeah, you totally overreacted because he never wanted to make you feel bad or anything like that. You decide to talk to him tomorrow and tell him that you're a little sensitive and that you are sorry for the reaction. After finishing your nightly routine, you walk to your bed. At that moment, someone familiar opens the window and crawls in. You are so shocked that nothing comes out of your mouth, and you grab a pillow to throw it at him. Jungkook looks up to meet your eyes.
"Oh my god, are you crazy?!" you whisper at him. "Hi," he says with a lazy grin. "You are not answering my messages, so I needed to reach out," he adds. "I wanted to talk to you in person tomorrow, dummy," you answer. You walk to the door and lock it. Turning back, you sit down in front of him. "Look, I know I hurt you, but that was never my intention. I just wanted to help you make a decision. But I know it's not okay to say you're a chick. You're not! I should empathize more. I can understand if you don't want to talk to me, but give me a chance. Hmm, I will do everything you want! Maybe I could buy you so-" He starts talking, but you cut him off with your hand on his mouth. "I'm sorry I overreacted a little bit. You know I'm really sensitive with this topic because everything seems like a burden to me. But I never forget our pinky promise. Don't worry," you say and reach for his hand. He watches the way you are holding his hand and moving your thumb up and down. "No, I'm sorry. I wanted to make you feel better and feel supported, but it was the wrong way. I know how hard it is for you. How you're struggling with them. You feel little with them, right?" He is looking straight into your eyes. You could feel the tears threatening. "I feel lonely," you confess, and a little tear escapes your eye. He is quick enough to catch your tear with his fingers. "I will be here for you," he says. "You're leaving soon," you reply. "I love you," he says with a smile. "You're drunk" is the only thing you could say. "Maybe! But my feelings will not change because of alcohol," he whispers. Maybe it was like a promise. It wasn't easy to hold onto that because knowing that all of this will end soon made you feel sick.
For a moment you want to hold the time and forget everything else. You lean forward to kiss him. He caught that quick and also leaned in. Kissing him felt like a new wave of hope. He is holding your cheek to deepen. After some seconds, you pull away to catch your breath. Jungkook smiles at you and kisses your cheek. "Come on, drink first, and after that, we can sleep on my bed," you say while standing up. Jungkook sits down on the bed waiting for you. On your desk is a cup of water that you hand him. He drinks all of it while looking at you. It makes you nervous, and you couldn't hold your laugh. "You're cute when you're drunk," you say. He pouts at you, "Just when I'm drunk?". You help him lay down and take your own spot. Jungkook pulls you into his arms and starts stroking your hair. Tonight, after a long time, is the first time that you fell asleep right away. And your sleep was actually good.
–
The next morning came fast. You are the first one to open your eyes, watching him in his peaceful sleep. You start playing with his soft hair. If there was a chance of a wish for you, you would wish for him to stay with you. But you're not selfish enough to ask him to stay. Would he consider that anyway? You watch him open his eyes and look around before finding yours. He smiles at you lazily and brushes one strand of hair behind your ear. His movements are soft, and you want more.
"Did you sleep well?" you ask him while sitting up. He is holding your hand and nods. "I would like to offer you breakfast, but if my parents see you, we are both dead," you say. Jungkook finally sits up and pats your head. "All good. I will wait for you on the bench so we can go to school." You nod and stand up to go to the bathroom. He didn't want to let go of your hand, but he gave up soon. After finishing your routine, it was Jungkook's turn. You start to change your clothes when Jungkook finishes his job. He froze on his spot when he caught you without your sleeping shorts. It didn't take him long to turn around and quickly say, "Sorry." You laugh at that and try to hide your red cheeks that you got. When you're done, Jungkook escapes from the window, and you prepare two sandwiches for the way.
As promised, he is waiting on the bench with a big smile. "Here, I made you a sandwich," you say while offering. He takes a bite without taking it from you. You watch his face getting angry. Yep, that is a good sign. Then he takes it from your hand and starts eating.
–
It was Thursday, and Jungkook was five seconds away from getting on his knees to cry. Tae is holding his arm because he knows what will happen when Jungkook stops you. For the record, it was after school, and everyone wanted to go on a shopping trip, but without you. The reason was obvious: your birthday presents. And of course you asked them if they wanted to grab a boba with you. They needed to make some weird excuses, and your face changed into a sad expression. As you walked away while saying, "Okay, I will go alone and see you tomorrow," Jungkook was ready to call you back. Jia turns to the men standing next to her and says, "I will go with her. I bought my present a long time ago." She is rushing to get to you. "Calm down, dude. She will understand," Tae says to Jungkook. So the men club walks to the nearest shopping mall. Tae and Jiho are deep in thought about the perfect gift. Jungkook knows what he wants to buy.
"Where were you, man?" Tae asks after Jungkook came. "I bought the present," he answers. "Dude, I thought we were going to look together. That's unfair," Jiho says while pouting. "I knew what I wanted to buy, so it was easy. Now I can help you guys," he says. Tae waves with the bag in his hand and says, "We already bought something." The three of them went to the food court and ate. Jungkook is sitting with his phone in his hand, waiting for your response.
Kook: What are you doing??
sent
Tae and Jiho shared a knowing look. Both want to say something, but it is easier while they were practicing than now. "Are you feeling something towards yn?" Jiho asks. The question so heavy that also Tae choked on his drink. Jungkook looks up in confusion. "What do you mean?" he asks. "Come on, don't act stupid. You know what I mean. Just answer the question". All of them are quiet for a moment.
"I never felt something like this towards someone," he says after a while. Tae smiles at his words, "We can tell." Jungkook shrugs his shoulders. "I know it's unrealistic. I will leave soon. I don't know how I will turn back to my usual life and pretend like nothing happened here. I can't ask her to come with me, and I can't stay because I don't know if she is feeling the same way. Thinking about it makes me feel like dying slowly". Both men are listening to him with a sad expression. "Every end can be a part of a start. Just because you're leaving doesn't mean it will end. You can go to a college in the same city or nearby. Meet up every other day. It's all about communication, Jungkook. If both of you want a future together, then it will work out. You both just need to make some efforts. You should find the answer to her feelings first," Tae says while tapping on Jungkook's shoulder.
Jungkook nods. "You think we could work?" he asks with teary eyes. "Of course. Love shouldn't be about a perfect plan. It will make it more passionate when you need to fight for it. Time will show you at the end if it's working. And if not, you will at least not regret anything," Tae answers. "Thank you, Tae. That was a big help for me," Jungkook says and wipes off his tears. A small sob is heard. Both of them are confused and turn to Jiho, who was crying. "I'm all whiny when it comes to love struggles," he says, struggling to speak. "I never saw Jiho like this," Tae says and starts laughing. Jungkook joined him and thanked God that he met friends like them.
–
You are sitting with Jia, sipping from your boba. Your mind was on someone else, yes, of course Jungkook. Why would he go without you? Now some scenarios going inside your head. How ridiculous to think about the worst cases; he is seeing someone. Jia senses that you were deep in thought. At the same time, she is checking the birthday group for pictures of the gifts that the boys are sending. Your phone vibrates, and that is a good thing for stopping your weird thoughts and a help to come back to this moment. Jungkook's message makes you smile; he was thinking about you. But who would you be if you answered right away? With a lighter heart, you start talking with your best friend and forget to reply.
–
Kook: Are you alive?!
sent
Kook: Are you ignoring me? TT
sent
He is seconds away from walking to your house and climbing up the window. It is enough for him to fuck up the plan and tell you everything about the present shopping just to clarify that he would love to go to the mall with you, and he would never say no to a boba date. He randomly stands up from his bed and picks up his jacket. If you're not answering, then he will get the answer face to face.
Yn: Why would I ignore you? o.o
Jungkook heard his phone vibrating and threw away the jacket in his hands. Jumping on the bed to lie back and answer quickly.
Kook: Idk... you didn't reply
Yn: Sorry, my battery died:(
Kook: nah it's okay now I know that everything is fine
Yn: yes! Good night 🫶🏼
Kook: good night <3
He needs to see you tomorrow to check if you're sulky at all.
–
You are walking to the classroom with a big smile on your face. This morning you decided to cook for yourself and Jungkook. Okay, you're not the best cook, but it tasted really good. Halfway through the hallway, you stop in your tracks. Is that Jungkook with the pretty girl from the other class? They are talking and laughing. You never saw them talk before, so it's hard to understand from where the closeness came. You watch them a little, and seeing her touching him the whole time makes you sick. The feeling is new in your heart, but you don't want to overthink it. Could it be that your weird scenarios from yesterday were true? Are they more than strangers? Bitter, you feel bitter.
Jungkook talks with Yuna about a school club. Explaining that he was gone next week, so he couldn't extend any of the clubs. He is talking to her for the first time, but he can feel that the girl in front of him wants to know more about him. The conversation is smooth, and he has fun. Until his eyes wander off to the back, and there you are standing. You look a little confused. His eyes meet yours, and that is a signal for you to walk away. Jungkook's face drops quickly, and he cuts the conversation off gently. Wishing her goodbye, he walks to the class.
By the time you are sitting at your desk and looking at something on your phone. The weather is perfect. Jungkook sits in front of you. "Good morning," he says. You didn't look up but answered quickly with a good morning. From the corner of your eyes, you could see him sulking. "Are you mad at me because of yesterday? Come on, I will tell you about it tomorrow!" he says. This is a big hint because tomorrow he wants to count down your birthday. "I'm not mad at you because of yesterday. I just thought we were close enough that you would tell me about the girls you're seeing," you say while putting your phone away. He opens his mouth to say something, but he is stunned. "I'm not seeing anyone. Why would you think that?" he asks. You start looking at him in disbelief. "The girl from earlier wants you. It was so clear," you say. He laughs at that and adds, "I don't care about that; I want someone else." Why is he wiggling with his eyebrows right now?!
"Anyway, I don't care. I cooked lunch for both of us, but now I don't want to share," you say with a pouting face. "Aw, don't lie. You care! And how cute of you to cook for me as well. Can we please share? I want to taste it," he says. You start glaring at him, but his cute face is no help. He starts playing with your fingers. "You know the day I came to your room a little drunk after our first fight?" he asks, not looking up. You nod. "I remember what I said. And I was honest about it". He looks into your eyes. You never answered, but that also never was his intention. He wanted to talk about his feelings, and he will wait until you can talk about yours. His words are enough to make you smile. "I like serious men," you say. "So you like me?" he asks. You look around the room; everyone was inside their own bubble. You come closer to kiss him on the cheek. "Answer your own question," you whisper. It feels like a dream.
At lunchtime you take out two lunch boxes. One in front of Jungkook and one in front of yourself. He opens it with sparkling eyes. "It looks so good, omg," he says. You also cut the vegetables in star shapes. He laughs at that and starts eating. You watch his expression, and seeing him angry was a good sign. Eating happily together is peace for both of you. "Do you have plans for tomorrow night?" he asks after finishing his food. "Hmm, no. Why?" you look at him. "Let's do something together and count down. On Saturday we could celebrate with the rest of the group," he suggests. "Okay, I'm in. What are we going to do? you ask. "It's a surprise," he answers, smiling.
–
It is Friday night, and you are getting ready to meet Jungkook. You decide to wear a black skirt and a cropped brown turtleneck. In front of the door, you wear your leather jacket, scarf, and black Converse. Of course you told your parents that you are going to Jia.
Walking down the street, you see Jungkook waiting. He looks hot with his hair done and an outfit that is matching yours. He sees you coming and waves. Only then did you see the red roses in his hand. That makes your heart skip a beat. "Hi," you say with a shy smile. "Hi, you look beautiful," he says and hands you the roses. "Thank you! They're so pretty, like you," you say while smiling like an idiot. "Come on, let's go. We only have 30 minutes. We will count down at home," he tells you the plan for the night.
After a quick walk, you could see the sea shining. The stars are beautiful, and you feel happy after a long time. "Actually, I wanted to eat the cake here with you, but then I decided to only watch the stars with you instead," he says. "You know that I love the night and the sea," you say. Now you were walking beside the water. It is calming to walk while listening to the water. "I think you were right. That girl from yesterday found me on Instagram and texted me," he suddenly shares. You look at him confused and ask, "What did she say?". "If I want to meet her," he replies. You frown at that. It is selfish to want him only for yourself because, yeah, he is hot, and every girl would want him. "Don't worry; I blocked her right away," he says after the pause. "Why would I worry?" you say, trying to hide the relief. "So you would be okay if I went out on a date with her?" he asks, surprised. "Slow down," you say faster than expected. Jungkook couldn't control his laugh. "Don't worry, baby, I'm all yours," he says, holding up both of his hands. You turn to him with an annoyed expression. "Stop teasing me." "Me? I would never. But you're pretty when you're jealous," he says and continues to laugh.
"You wish for a tragic death," you say while putting the roses behind you. Then you push him into the water. It is so sudden that he loses his balance and falls into the water. You start laughing at him. But you didn't expect him to pull you. It is not deep enough, but your clothes are wet anyway. Both of your laughs ringing in the air. Jungkook places his hands on your waist and starts to dance. Both of you lost in each other's eyes. When was the last time you felt this happy? He starts to sing a love song you never heard before, but you love it. After he finishes, it is a sign for you to move closer. His lips so dangerously close to yours. You start kissing him while your fingers make their way up to his hair on the back. He quickly matches your lip movements. Slipping his tongue inside your mouth. The moment is like an old romantic story. You break the kiss to catch a breath. Both of you are smiling happily. Until you splash water into his face. A second of silence before you grab your roses and start running in panic. He is so fast, "Yah! Don't run away!" he screams behind you. Now you know what to wish for when you blow out the candles.
You are getting inside Jungkook's apartment. He tells you to wait in the living room. You use the time to take off your jacket and put the flowers on the table. Because of your wet clothes, you sit down on the floor. Five minutes later, Jungkook comes back with a birthday cake. Your favorite, strawberry cheesecake. The lights of the candles a beautiful contrast on his skin. He starts singing happy birthday, and you couldn't resist hiding your face with your hands. He sits down in front of you, placing the cake on the table. "Come on, blow it off," he says. You close your eyes for a moment. Thinking of the perfect wish, him. Opening them, you blow out. He claps his hands and starts cutting the cake. You don't know why you want to cry right now. Feeling emotional about the whole situation. Tears pour down your face, and you hate yourself for ruining the moment. Jungkook looks up to give you the slice. "A big slice for the birthday prince—" he stops mid-sentence. You could see the worry in his face. "What happened?" he asks. "I don't want you to leave me," you say with a sob. Saying it out loud made it more painful. He would be gone next week. Jungkook swallows the lump in his throat. "I don't want to leave too," he says, reaching for your hand. You couldn't stop crying, and he comes next to you. Hugging you tight, you lean on his shoulder. "I'm sorry for ruining this now," you told him. "Yah come on. For me it's important what you feel. Never hide it from me, okay?" he says. You nod your head. His gentle fingers are wandering on your back.
Pulling away, you look into his eyes. He brushes your hair away. This time it is him who leans closer to kiss. It feels more intimate than at the beach. He pulls you into his lap while holding your waist. The kiss deepens, and you start to move on his lap a little. Feeling a heat between your legs. His hands sliding inside your cropped turtleneck. You break the kiss and look at him with lust. "Do you want to go on?" he asks with a low voice. Nodding your head, he stands up with you on his arms. He places you on the bed and gets off his shirt. You watch his body while he gets onto the bed and starts kissing your neck. "You're so pretty," he whispers. "Can I take this off?" he asks while his fingers pull at the turtleneck. "Yes," you say a little nervous. You help him get it off. His hands start discovering your body quickly. And the next, your skirt was gone. Lying between his legs, he starts placing kisses around your boobs and stomach. Playing with the hem of your panties, he looks into your eyes for confirmation. You nod quickly and brush his hair with your hand. He takes them off, and they find a place on the floor. "Fuck," he says and starts playing with your sensitive folds. Your moans fill the room. Jungkook is quick to start with his tongue. "You taste amazing, baby," he says. You start fisting his hair. It felt better than imagined. After some time you moan his name, "Oh my god. I think I- I'm coming," you say. "Come pretty girl," he says softly. It is enough for you to shake underneath him. He swallows you happily.
After coming down from your high, you open your eyes. He is watching you like you are the prettiest night sky. The next thing gone is your bra. His fingers and tongue playing with your boobs gently. You had enough courage now to start wandering your fingers on his chest. They quickly find his belt, which you open right away. He helps you take off his pants. Only in his boxers, he watches your body. In his eyes you were the most beautiful he ever saw. His fingers find your folds again. This time pushing in. You moaned at the sudden stretch. He adds one more finger and gently pushes and pulls out of your hole. When he thought it was enough, he pulled out and licked his fingers with a smile. You smile back at him and play with the hem of his boxers. He takes them off, and your eyes wander to his dick. Yeah, he definitely is big. "I need to tell you something," you say. He caresses your face and says, "Tell me, baby." "I never did this before. It's my first time," you whisper a little embarrassed. He smiles at that. "We can stop here if you want." You pout, "No, I want this." "Okay, we will do this together. It will hurt a little, but then you will feel amazing. Trust me?" he says, planting a kiss on your jaw. "I always trust you." "It's also the first time for me," Jungkook says. Now feeling more emotional. You smile at him. "Shit, I have no condom. I can go and buy some," he says, frustrated trying to get off. You stop him. "It's okay for me. I'm on the pill". He nods at that.
"Are you ready?" he asks while starting to stroke his dick. "Yes," you answer. One hand is holding yours, and the other one is guiding his dick to your entrance. He slowly pushes his tip in. "Relax, baby." Pain shoots up through your body as he pushes his length into you inch by inch. You moan his name, and he is kissing your neck while his free hand caresses your hips. With a final thrust, he is all nestled in. He waits for you to adjust to his size. You close your eyes, feeling tears filling. It feels stretched, and it burns a little. But feeling Jungkook's lips on your body makes it all better. "You can move," you say. That is a sign for him, so he starts to slowly pull back and push in. He moans at the sensation. Quickly finding a pace that is okay for both of you. It is more than fucking; it is making love. Your bodies and hearts were one. His room is filled with the sound of bodies and moans. The night is long until you shook underneath him, reaching your high. He soon after spilled his thick ropes of cum into you. Feeling it makes you moan into his lips. After controlling his breath, he slowly pulls out and watches his cum spilling out.
Jungkook helps you clean up, and you took a shower together. You are in his arms like a koala when you turn back to his room. Wearing one of his shirts. He sits you down on his desk with a kiss on top of your hair. Then he turns to the bed and starts changing his sheets. You see the little bloodstain on it. After unfolding the fresh sheets, you lay down. He hugs you tight. "I love you." You kiss his cheek as an answer to his words. Sleep was pulling you, and Jungkook was happy to watch you.
–
Jungkook is the first one to wake up. He enjoys the view and starts playing with your hair. His head full of questions, are you going to regret everything? Your eyes flutter open and meet his. You smile at him and move closer to warm up. He smiles at that and hugs you even more. "Good morning, baby," he says. You place a kiss on his neck. "Good morning. Do you want to know what I dreamed about?" you ask. He nods his head. "About the cake. I forgot to taste it," you say, pulling away. You jut out your lip while watching his movements. "You can eat all of it if you want. Come on," he says and stands up. Holding his hand, you walk to the living room. You sit down on the floor and start to eat. "Whoa, so tasty." Jungkook carefully watches you with a smile.
He suddenly stands up and walks back to the bedroom. Soon coming back with a box in his hand. "I forgot to give you your present," he says. Sliding the little box on the table towards you as a signal to open it. You look at him confused. Opening the box, you see matching silver rings with little diamonds around them. You start laughing, "Are you going to propose?". He rolls his eyes. "Marrying you is on my list, but it's too soon," he adds. "So romantic," you say while getting shy. You take out one of the rings and try it on your middle finger. With joy you show him it. "Now showing me a middle finger? Tsk," he says. You take out the other one, which is a little bit bigger than yours. "Which finger?" you ask. "Index," he answers. You slide it on his finger. He touches your hand. "It looks so cute." You take out your phone and take a picture of your hands. "I love it," you say with a big smile. "Thank you, Jungkook," you add after a little pause. "But I want you to wear it forever until I buy you a new one," he says. You nod at him, "Of course. But you too!". "I promise," he says.
After eating more cake, you started getting ready for the celebration with your friends. All of you rented a party room with karaoke and music. Dancing to party hits and singing your lungs out. Of course, alcohol wasn't missing. Tae forced you to play a drinking game. Both of you are already tipsy. Jungkook watched you the whole day, drinking fewer. When you called it a day, everyone started getting home.
You knew that your family wasn't home, so Jungkook helps you to get into your room. "I need to do my routine," you say and walk to the bathroom. He helps you get your makeup off and brush your teeth. Sitting on the bed, you wait for him to give you your pajamas. He helps you change and tucks you into bed. Patiently waiting for you to fall asleep. "Happy birthday," he whispers before leaving.
–
1 week later...
If you could stop the time, you would do it right now. It was one day before Jungkook returns home, and you felt more than sad. You talked a lot about this topic, but none of you had the courage to ask to stay or come. But you decided to stay in contact and go to a college that is near to meet. Why is it feeling like it will never happen and everything will end in this city?
When you arrive at the restaurant for the last dinner, you fight not to cry. It's your fault to have such a relationship with him while you knew he would be gone soon. You try to not think about it tonight. Walking inside, you can already see everyone sitting at the table. "I'm so sorry for being late," you say. "Nah, all good. I also came seconds before," Tae says. You sit down next to Jungkook (it was the only free chair). He smiles at you and you return it. Everyone starts to order food and drinks. After some time the table is full and you start eating.
"I can't believe that the time flew by so fast," Jiho says in disbelief. "Time is so crazy," Jia adds. You silently eat your pasta. Jungkook is worried about you. He can imagine what is happening inside your head. But he knows you will try to play it off tonight. Finishing your food, you start to sip from your wine. Tae gives Jungkook a little side eye, and you catch that. Perfect, your plan wasn't going anywhere. Everyone knows about my feelings, you think. It feels uncomfortable that every one of them looked at you from time to time. Oh, they want you to cry. The waiter quickly took the empty plates. You start eating the fruits and think of their story. The silence is killing you.
Tae waves a bag in front of Jungkook's face while he is busy looking at you. He turns to the bag in surprise. "That is a little gift from us all. I know we will see each other again, but I want you to remember us in this memory," Tae says. "Thank you so much. I really appreciate it," Jungkook says. He pulls out a box and opens it to see the black watch. "It's so pretty," he says and starts wearing it right away. Why is it so warm in here? You can feel your eyes getting watery. And at this second you start scolding yourself. It was the last dinner together, and you don't want him to remember it like a funeral.
"I remember the first day when we were waiting for the exchange students. You were standing next to the teacher like a proud little kid," you suddenly say and start to laugh. "Oh my god, yes! They acted like it's a big mystery," Jia adds, also laughing at the memory. Jungkook is happy to see you laughing. "I was nervous, okay? New city and new people. It's not that easy," he says to defend himself. "Ah, come on. There were already rumors that you are hot," Tae says. "Everybody wanted to see you," Jiho says with a grin. You could see his ears getting red. "Are you shy?" you ask him with a smile. "It's a little embarrassing," he answers with a pout. You laugh at that and poke his cheek. "Come on, I would feel like an idol if I were you," you say. He sticks his tongue out. The night goes on like that. Everyone telling a funny story and you feel the bonding.
Getting out of the restaurant, you start walking to the nearest station. Because of the sea, it was a lot windier, but it felt good. "Let's leave a memory of us behind," Jia says and kneels down. All of you walk towards her. She takes out a black pen that is thick enough to write on the ground. It was a little place on the floor full of names. She started writing the names. You smile at the heart she drew next to them. "We need to meet here in ten years," she says. You think about it; in ten years, where are you? What happened in your life? Are you in touch with Jungkook?
Like always, you bid goodbye to your friends. Now only you and Jungkook are walking together. "I will miss you," he says suddenly. It cuts through the silence and your heart. "I will miss you too," you say. "I never expected you to return my words, but do you have feelings for me?" he asks with soft eyes. You turn to him. "Do you think I would be like that without having feelings for you?". He nods, but you know that this is not what he is asking for. "I know that you want to hear the magic three words," you say and pause for a moment. "I will not say it to you," you add. He looks confused and asks, "Why?". "I'm scared that it will be the end of us. So I'm giving you something to wait for us," you say. His head now hanging low. When he decides to look up, you see tears streaming down his face. It is the last straw for your own tears. "This will never be the end of us, right?" he asks with a sparkle of hope. You shrug your shoulders and step closer to him. Hugging him tightly, you kiss his neck. His hands find their place on your waist. The time should stop now.
–
In the morning, all of you stand in front of Jungkook's house. It was time to go for him. He started saying goodbye to everyone. Standing in front of you, he hands you an envelope. "This is for you," he adds. You take it and smile at him. "If this is the end, will you come to my first gallery event?" you ask him. He smiles at that and answers, "I will. And will you come to my first match?". "I will," you say while wiping off your tear. He kisses you on the lips a little longer than planned. Turning around, he waves goodbye to all of you. "I will miss you," Tae says with teary eyes. "I will miss you too. Thank you for everything," Jungkook says before getting into the taxi. You watch the car drive away. Without saying anything, you walk back home. You realize that you never walked back alone from his house. This was reason enough to start crying.
Walking into your room, you lock the door. You sit down on the floor and look at the window. Can he crawl in? You look at the envelope. Why does it feel so suffocating? Opening it, you start reading the letter he left:
Dear Yn,
It's my second time writing a letter. And I needed a lot of tries to finish this one. My first letter was a confession about my feelings towards you, but I managed to say I love you. I wished I could tell you all of this, but I know that I will break down. If you're reading this, it means I'm on my way home. First of all, I want to thank you for everything. For every moment that you shared with me. I wish I could stay a little longer or promise you that this is a beginning. Maybe we will never see each other again, but never forget that these moments will always remain special to me. I will hold my promises, so please do it too. Live for your dreams and never give up, okay? If this is our end, I wish you a lovely future. A true love, someone who would stay with you no matter what. I hope you're not mad at me for leaving. I just know that it's unrealistic to say, Fuck everything; I will stay, or I will take you with me. Why are we so young? Anyway, I will always be there for you no matter what. Please call me if you need to. Never forget that I love you. I will wait for the day that you will say it back.
Your (I will always be yours)
Jungkook
Note: Please listen to the CD. I wrote the song and sang it for you.
You can't control your tears. It hurts so much that you want to cry until there are no more tears left. "I love you so much," you whisper. He was the only one who wanted your happiness. Not your family; it was him who supported your dreams. Of course your friends were also there for you. But he was special. Your first with a lot. With shaking hands, you take out the CD and put it in your CD player. Jungkook's soft voice starts playing. The song familiar to your ears. He sang it at the beach on your birthday. You cried yourself to sleep. Hoping he would be in your dreams.
–
˚₊✩‧₊2024˚₊✩‧₊
You are standing with a little group of people talking about your last works. It was your first gallery event, and you feel excited about it. More and more people come to look at your work. At the end you're happy about every single piece. You could see Tae, Jia, and Jiho standing at the table. Excusing yourself, you walk towards them. "Hiii! Thanks for coming," you say. "Everything looks so good," Tae says. You smile at him, "Thank you." "At the end it was worth it," Jia says with a smile. "Yeah, you're right," you answer. After talking a bit, you walk away to look at your own pieces and answer some questions. You stand longer at one piece, which is your favorite. You gave it the title 'end of time.' A beach at night, with two people dancing and a bucket of roses on the sand. It reminds you of your 19th birthday.
"This looks familiar," a voice says. You turn to him in disbelief. "You came," you say with a low voice. Jungkook smiles at you. "I promised." You return the smile and play with your ring that he gifted you ten years ago.
–
┊͙Epilogue - 2014┊͙
Jungkook is sitting on the train wiping his tears. He decides to listen to some music for distraction. Opening his travel bag, he finds a small bag. He doesn't remember putting this in his travel bag. He takes out the frame and starts smiling. It is a drawing of him with his favorite jersey on. Your signature on the right side. His tears start to flow again. He grabs the piece of paper and starts reading:
I hope you like it! Sorry for sneaking this in, but I wanted to surprise you. I know you're sad about the whole situation, but stop being so. I know that this will not be the end. How ridiculous it would be for two people who love each other to break contact just because they're not living next door! Right? I love you, but despite it, wait to hear it from me, okay? Now stop sulking and enjoy your ride back. <3
Today he is smiling for the first time thanks to you. You make him feel sad and happy at once. He is happy that he had the chance to get to know you and love you. And also being loved by you. He played all of his luck on this, and he regrets not a bit.
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Thank you for reading! This is my first work, so I hope you enjoyed it. Also, English is not my first language, so excuse me for mistakes.
I love and hate open endings. Do you think they met at the gallery for the first time after ten years? Maybe I will write a part 2 about all the things that were left open. Depends on how many people are interested in reading this.
I would be happy if you could leave a review. Feel free to ask me questions or talk about anything (press the button in my bio)! Feel loved ♡
#kookochan#jungkook#jeon jungkook#jungkook drabble#jungkook imagine#jungkook scenarios#jungkook oneshot#jungkook au#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#jungkook fic#jungkook fanfic#bts#bts x reader#bts au
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GB Patch Games: Response About Sensitivity Reader
[Some of you might not have heard of this happening, but I wanted to address it across the board]
Hey everyone,
I want to make a post about the screenshots of comments from one of our sensitivity readers. The situation is that neither me or Rose want people to feel uncomfortable with Our Life: Now & Forever, but Rose hasn’t done anything terribly wrong and isn’t going to be punished.
The comment about OL MCs wasn’t meant to be genuine hatred towards all male players/MCs of OL. Rose wrote a reply about it-
"Hi everyone! This is Rose, I want to address the male MC comment since it was taken wildly out of context and without the lengthy discussion that was after it. I don't hate male MCs, in fact far from it, male MCs are integral to the story in OL:NF as female and trans MCs are. I think the relationship they could potentially have with Qiu could be a great asset in my opinion as they figure out their gender alongside the MC. The discussion itself was about how I noticed players were sticking to heteronormative norms by shipping Tamarack with a man purely out of societal norms than it was genuine thought into the characters and how I personally wished there was more sapphic relationships with Tamarack or just Tamarack with trans characters as a sapphic trans person myself. I didn't mean to offend anyone by it as no one but my friends who understood what I legitimately meant behind my message and it definitely wasn't meant to be seen seriously. I am sorry regardless to anyone I have offended and I love your male MCs regardless."
And most of the comments were about me. I’ve seen screenshots of the full conversations and they’re not as harsh as the cropped snippets made them out to be. It was longer discussions about not including Derek in any base game Moments for no good reason and not having any plus-sized love interests in OL1 because I was afraid players wouldn’t accept it. That’s not a lie, it’s what I decided for the game I created, and it is ridiculous of me. I’m the one who should be feeling embarrassed over how OL1 will forever be that way, not the people who remember that I did that. I’m not perfect and Rose actually cares more about the players than making me feel like I am flawless.
I also don’t want to tone police an employee venting about their boss in private, on their own time. Both the OL games deal with personal, important topics. This is sensitive work, and it can bring up frustrations. Sometimes people do use harsh words among friends, but they wouldn’t ever say it to a person seriously and directly.
I understand if you wouldn’t want to see anyone speak badly of a dev you like, but I promise it’s not a point of contention between me and Rose. I don’t feel mistreated in anyway. Rose genuinely cares about the Our Life series, and that’s why they get fed up with me over certain parts of the game.
Rose has never been unkind or unreasonable to me when working on the project, and their advice is detailed and well-explained. They do care about the game and want it to avoid having content that upsets people because of my own ignorance/shortcomings.
This being shared publicly from a private server is targeting Rose and seems to be a continuation of things that have happened before this. I don’t want this to continue happening. If you do still have concerns over the one comment about the community, you can let me know. But again, I don’t want people being mistrustful of Rose on my behalf for comments about me in conversations with missing context.
Do not send angry messages to Rose about any of this. We’ll do our best so that OL2 will be better than I was before. Thank you to everyone who reads this and participates in the community!
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♱ ࣪˖ date night — chris sturniolo
. . . you're caught up in a terrible date, and a rescue from chris turns into something more than just a friendly favor.
˖ warnings. smut (fingering, no actual p in v, implied sex), confessing feelings kinda(?)
˖ soph's note. first one shot, and whoever requested this im so sorry it took forever 😭
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the restaurant was a cozy italian place, tucked in a quiet corner of the city. candlelit tables, soft music playing in the background, and a warm basket of breadsticks in front of you—it was exactly what came to your mind when you thought of a perfect date. tonight was anything but that. it would’ve been perfect, if only the person sitting across from you wasn’t so insufferable. you felt like you were being held hostage, forced to listen to him talk about himself and nothing else. your friend was a horrible match maker.
within five minutes of sitting down, he’d managed to interrupt you twice. you sat across from him, trying to force a polite smile as he launched into yet another story about himself. here we go again….
“oh, and i’m super into traveling,” he continued, leaning back in his chair with a smug grin. “but only first-class, you know? i work too hard to settle for anything less.” how had we even gotten to the topic of traveling?
“oh…” you nod absentmindedly. gosh, this guy was a jerk. you glanced around the restaurant as he spoke, hoping the waiter would interrupt with the check.
he obviously didn’t notice your lack of enthusiasm as he dove into yet another story, leaning forward in his chair enthusiastically. how many stories was this guy pulling out of his ass? you fought the urge to roll your eyes. you’d been here for over an hour and he’s barely asked you a single question all night.
“anyway,” he said, waving a hand, “enough about me. what do you think about my watch?”
you blinked, staring at the obnoxiously large gold watch on his wrist. “it’s… nice?”
“right?” he grinned, clearly fishing for compliments. “cost me a fortune, but hey, i deserve it. gotta treat yourself, right?”
you tried to stay optimistic, but as the evening dragged on, you could feel yourself mentally checking out. when he started boasting about how many instagram followers he had, you knew you were done. you needed an escape.
forcing another smile, you reached for your phone under the table, sending a text to chris, hoping he could save you from this nightmare of a date. you: can u please pick me up? this date is a total disaster
you press send, fingers anxiously tapping on the table as you await chris’ response, the man in front of you too caught up in his life story to notice your anxious glances around the restaurant. finally, your phone buzzed.
chris: wya?
you sent him the address, feeling a rush of relief knowing you were gonna be out of here soon. there was so much precious time wasted on this stupid date, and you mentally cursed yourself for even giving this guy a chance.
ten minutes later, you spotted chris’ car through the window. you began to speak, cutting the guy off mid-sentence as you stood abruptly, grabbing your purse. “im really sorry, i’ve got to go,”
“what? why?” he looked genuinely confused, furrowing his brows as he saw you getting ready to leave so sudden.
“something came up,” you lied, giving him a sympathetic look, already heading for the door before he could say another word. chris was leaning against his car, arms crossed, his expression one of amusement as you both got in the car.
“rough night?” he asked as you approached.
“you have no idea,” you groaned, slipping into the passenger seat. chris climbed in after you, pulling away from the curb. almost immediately, you launched into a rant, frustration bubbling over as you spoke about everything that went wrong. chris listened, feeding into your frustration as he let out a sarcastic remark every now and then.
eventually, your complaints died down, and with nowhere else to head, chris pulled into an vacant parking lot as the car was engulfed with a comfortable silence.
“thanks for coming to get me,” you say, glancing over at him. “i couldn’t handle another second there. he was driving me insane.”
chris chuckled, his fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel. “‘s no big deal, really.”
you give him a soft smile, glancing around the empty parking lot. the only light came from the dim glow of a nearby streetlamp. for a moment, neither of you spoke. you shifted in your seat, looking over to chris as his fingers stilled against the wheel. you couldn’t help but notice the way the light hit his face, accentuating his cheekbones and jawline. you stared for a second longer before your voice broke the silence.
“but seriously,” you begin, “you’re always there for me. i really appreciate that, chris.”
chris turns to you fully, his expression softening at your words. “of course,” he says, his voice quiet, “i’ll always be there for you. ‘s cause i care about you. you know that, right?” he looks over at you, and the sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten.
“i know,” you nod, looking away from his gaze, “i care about you, too.” you feel a rush of heat rise up to your cheeks as you speak. why were you getting so flustered?
something shifted in his expression as you said that, his playful demeanor no where to be found as your eyes met his again. “you’re not just saying that?” he asked, leaning in slightly, his hand resting on the steering wheel.
“no,” you murmured, the word catching in your throat. you watch as his gaze dropped to your lips for a split second before darting back up to your eyes, and you found your pulse beginning to quicken.
“okay, cause i mean it. i care do about you—a lot." his voice lingered on the last word, and the way he said it made you feel a way you couldn’t quite explain.
you swallowed hard, unsure of what to say. his eyes were locked on yours, and you felt unable to look away. it felt like he could see straight through you, past all your nervousness and hesitation, and straight to the way your heart was pounding.
“chris…" you started, but his name barely left your lips as he leaned in, his hand slipped from the wheel. you felt his fingertips brush lightly against your arm, sending a shiver down your spine.
"tell me to stop," he murmured, his voice low and his breath warm against your cheek. his eyes flickered to your lips again, lingering this time. but you didn’t tell him to stop.
his lips met yours, tentative at first, like he wanted to make sure this was real. but when you responded, your hand moving to cup the side of his face, his hesitation disappeared. the kiss deepened, and you soon felt yourself being pulled onto his lap, now straddling him. warmth flooded through you as he gripped your waist, fingers digging into your hips. you felt the kiss becoming needier, his hands moving to pull you closer, deepening the kiss. your hands find their way to his hair, softly tugging at the strands as he lets out a quiet groan into your mouth. his hands moved to your thighs, rubbing up and down before they slipped under your jean skirt to tease around the soft lace of your underwear. chris pulls away, beginning to pepper kisses down your jawline and to your neck as his fingers inched closer to your clothed core.
his middle finger delicately brushed over your cunt, feeling the wetness seep through your panties as you let out a gasp, your hold on him tightening.
“you want me to stop?” he murmurs into your neck, beginning to add more pressure with his fingers. you quickly shake your head, mumbling out a desperate ‘no’ before you feel him slip two of his fingers into your panties, groaning at the feeling of your wetness. you let out a moan as he teases your entrance, slipping his two fingers inside you effortlessly.
“fuck,” you breathe out, and chris begins to pump his fingers into and out of you, curling his fingers as he elicits another moan from you, your grip on his hair tightening.
chris leaves hot and opened mouth kisses on your neck—the pace of his fingers quickening. he continued to bite and suck at your neck in response to your whimpers, his free hand coming up to squeeze at your tits as you bucked your hips into his hand, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap.
“i’m gonna cum, chris,” you whine, your head falling against his shoulder before you felt him remove his fingers, bringing them to his mouth as he tasted your arousal, leaving you whiney and needy for more.
chris patted your hip, urging you to get up as he spoke, “backseat, now.”
© ch6rm
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#© ch6rm#writings. 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ#࣪˖ ִ ࣪ requests#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo x reader#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo x you#matthew sturniolo#chris sturniolo oneshot#sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#nick sturniolo#the sturniolo triplets#sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo fluff
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Mr. Rager, Can I Tag Along?
Part I
Synopsis: Mr. Rager finally joins the birds in the skies. Dedicated to the song Mr. Rager by Kid Cudi.
tags: 8k, smut, so much romance, fluff, addiction, recovery, virgin Ryujin
Ryujin x Male OC
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CHAPTER I:
You might hear the birds singing flying around,
You never see them too long on the ground,
You wanna be one of them, yeah.
Cocaine toxicity. Solipsism finally vindicated. He was going to die—truly. That cloudy feeling of mind and body separation, as if the ribbons of heaven had finally let him grasp their reins, swaying him toward some version of forever happiness.
Mmmm.
He thought he’d care about dying right there in the nightclub. The shame of weakness, of collapsing with foam at the corners of his mouth—he’d truly thought he’d care more about it. But now, one worry gone, he was worriless. Life had its charm, but it wasn’t for him; he’d been walking on sticks until the very end. Now, the floor felt so right. His body sank into it, slipping slowly, as if turning to slime and merging back into the earth.
Each second, his grip over his fingers weakened, a constant slackening with every passing moment. His eyelids grew heavy, and the outline of the nightclub around him blurred. He couldn’t control his fingers anymore; he was truly sinking. When would heaven begin? When would this fantasy end? Mind-death, a complete and utter submission to the lifeless realm - he’d never recover.
The faint tingling of powder lingered at the rim of his nostrils. At least, he’d had a good high - a nice ecstasy haze along the fine columbian - before dying. Finally, his eyes closed, nerves shutting down, and he felt free, unchained from his body like a ghost.
"Stay with me!" A voice, deep and feminine.
Hm?
"Don’t close your eyes!" Again, that voice.
What?
Whatever. It was too late anyway.
"How many fingers am I holding up!?" Still images flashed through his fading consciousness, fingers held up just before his face, barely visible, though he couldn’t tell how many anyway.
"What’s your name?" He couldn't place a face on the voice, but it was distinctly feminine - separate from his inner voices.
They were trying so hard. If they’d responded any faster, he might’ve been forced to go back - to life.
Go back…
Did he want to go back?
Hell.
Mr. Rager - that’d be a good name, he thought. If he were reborn, given another chance, that’s who he’d be.
"Mr. Rager!"
What? Could the paramedic hear him?
"Mr. Rager! Come back! Fight back! Don’t go off on an adventure!"
—
Flash. Eyes open. He was alive - he was… alive.
"Mr. Rager. You’re okay; don’t make any sudden movements." A soft, padded palm rubbed his forehead with a gentle, compassionate touch. He looked up. A young woman, petite yet strikingly beautiful, looked back at him.
"What’s your name?" he asked, despite himself. Still a bachelor, after all. "My name is Ryujin." She was dressed in a way he couldn’t quite place, something different from what he expected. "I’m part-time, by the way," she said, noticing his confused look. "That’s why my clothes are different." He rubbed his forehead; it was pounding, but with a distant sort of ache, incongruous with a proper headache. “What the hell happened?” he asked, properly confused. “You went into shock, someone already administered naloxone to your body, thankfully; otherwise, you would’ve-” she abruptly bit her tongue, preventing herself from talking about a potentially sensitive topic that Mr. Rager was subjected to.
“And, by the way, this was my first call ever.” A subtle transition, a conversation starter.
He blinks, trying to relieve the soreness in his eyes, “God, I’m sorry, this is such a fucking shitty situation.” And the way he said it, that emotional self-deprecation.
She might’ve realized something, “Were you trying to commit suicide?” She asked, very bluntly.
“It’s none of your business. Thank you for the hospitality, I’ll be taking my leave now.” When he tried to take the IV fastened to his vein, Ryujin softly, with the firmest grip and tone, said, “You’re going nowhere.”
All Mr. Rager could think of were cuss words, cusses against the world, against destiny to be alive for the foreseeable future.
A resolve to suicide is the moment the mind, at the cusp of mind-death, truly enters a dead mind. The inescapable rock-bottom, a self-fulfilling prophecy where one feels truly and utterly fastened to the floor - inhibited of all its freedoms, its happiness.
–
Mr. Rager, or better known as Min amongst his peers - not friends. At the hands of his peers, Mr. Rager sustained a traumatic head injury that tormented him with chronic migraines right from the start of it all - the drunk brawl, that he decisively lost in, at just the age of 17.
See, Mr. Rager had not a single family member except his aunt who embezzled all the funds Rager’s parents left for him. And the last time he tried to talk with his aunt was when he sustained a knife wound on his forearm from her - a deeply tormented individual, she was locked in a home-made cage for most of her adolescence.
And, unfortunately, there’s not a single time where his life is measurably better than the year before - only getting worse until the overdose.
–
Ryujin didn’t inquire further, she was hoping somewhat that her presence might help Mr. Rager. She sat next to Mr. Rager, her hand still on the side of the hospital bed, feeling its soft fabric. Mr. Rager, still irritated, asked, “Why are you still here?”
“Cause I want to be here.” A joking undertone, perfectly acted out. In truth, Ryujin pitied him so much, her first patient, a successful businessman who tried to kill himself at the age of 29 - now that’s fucking rare, usually the cases accelerate at the age of 50 or so.
“Why’d you take this job?”
She replied, “Artistic inspiration.”
“Hm, fantastic idea by the way.” He was sincere about it.
“Thanks.”
“Do you have enough material now?”
“Oh. Plenty. Plenty enough.” She giggled.
“What if I don’t consent to my likeness being represented in your art - medium, whatever?”
“Mr. Rager, don’t you worry, I’ll refurbish it so much that it'll be closer to the likeness of… let’s say… me.”
“Quit the teasing,” he stated, straight to the point.
“I don’t want to.” She replied back, he was one of the few people where teasing seemed to genuinely improve their immediate well-being, and for someone like Mr. Rager - it’s huge. And, he was finally laying, no longer trying to plan an escape, on the flatbed, staring at the ceiling, observing the music player. “By the way, is this music player provided to everyone recovering?” He’s not one to mix words.
“You’re pretty smart.” She replies, a confirmation, fiddling with her torn skirt, presumably from rushing into her para-medic role.
“That’s what I owe you for?”
“Mhm.” Still fiddling, a pouty sort of face formed on her face, it was her favorite skirt.
“How do you want the debt paid?” He inquired, he’s one to never ignore the nascent attachment to his favorite items - thus, he understands: the exorbitant value placed on favoritisms. “I dunno. You’ll still owe me. Big Time.” She stared back, this time, their eyes entwined with a sort of friendliness that is almost, just almost, ethically wrong in hospital circumstances.
“Very well then.” His tired eyes kept pulling on his eyelids. Genuine sleep had seemed to completely take over his body, and yeah, that’s all the meds he’s under: naloxone, antibiotics, withdrawal medicine, and a lovely dose of morphine. “I feel new.” His voice was dozing as his intra-reflection began. As he nodded off, he felt the faint grasp of her hand, so small, yet filled with so much conviction. He’s tripping balls, but she’ll never tell him - presence was what was required of her.
And that was all the validation he needed: for sleep.
As Mr. Rager finally slept; Ryujin stayed for a bit, or about 4 hours. And, still, she’s sitting beside him - making sure that he sleeps and recovers. Just from the chance encounter of a paramedic call, she felt the compulsion to guard Mr. Rager. Poor girl, if she’d seen a dead body for her first call then she’d vomit a week’s worth onto the ground.
After another hour, Ryujin finally decided it was time to leave. She wrote a thoughtful letter, of things that needn’t be said - obviously. But she also left a partition, finagling a creative way to demand what she’s owed. After, she let her boss know that she quit on the spot, that she’d also come back to the same room - a reservation of some sort. She left, leaving the stale, minty air of the hospital with a melancholy that wouldn’t be fixed until she saw him again. Because, when she was writing the note, she wished she asked more questions - Mr. Rager just seemed to lead on the conversation to a charming degree, that other circumstances were of lesser importance.
Ryujin, outside, breathing in the fresh air of the summer, caught the last bus of the route. This route, passing by the road that she was taken on inside the paramedic van, also led to her apartment. Unfortunately, it’s an old, decrepit apartment where only the rudest sort of parties happen. Half the time, the floor above is vibrating thump, thump, thump from the heavy jumps, or the lower floor blasts some of the most needlessly, eardrum-breaking music.
At least she has solitude. Finally free from the dictates of those she didn’t get along with, finally separated from her friends who’d get too boring if she hung along for too long. Now, her family is charming - easy to get along with; now, her friends are always interesting - fascinating to be around. Distance is a marinating technique, or whatever.
Ryujin, the charming shut-in, finally arrived at her place, and began on her art piece. Unfortunately, there’s nothing to list that’s positive about her obsession with art. It’s the time where she vents her frustrations of being a failed trainee - rather, a placement that was restricted from becoming an idol; wallows in the misery of the color tone she loves the most: dark; and, to top it off, she gets bored of visual arts when she tries to make money off of it. Some dastardly sign from the man above, “Your hobby will stay a hobby.”
All that displeasure would be the paint upon the canvas: checkmate, mental turmoil turns to art, she thought. Swipe and swipe, the dirty colored watercolor painting had nearly no form worth thinking - almost entirely brown from the intermixing of the wet, damp color. Then the second layer, an apparition of segmentation, a deeper color, colors that entice and bite back. Then the specificity of the lines, things left unspecified were on purpose. But, this recurring thought, this pounding idea, that she left a man that fell in the depths of the void alone - really began digging into her soul. This thought unto Ad Nauseam brought her nausea that really can’t be eliminated with the will of her conscience. “I should’ve stayed, I should’ve stayed” - the recurrent thoughts that never seemed to leave her. With a sad howl, she fell to the side, crying deep, ruining all her pretty into the sheets - a room so small that her chair was the bed.
–
“I’m still alive”, Mr. Rager repeated this to himself over and over after waking up - not sure whether to feel some sort of rendered triumph. For a moment, he was truly tip-toed in the void, almost encased into the endless hope, of unrendered reality and a horrible sadness; now, he’s alive, breathing, with a full control of his body.
Nothing had caught his attention, the environment, whether there were people around him or not, only life as he knew it - coursing through his veins. The feeble thumps of his chest - his heart, still persevering.
–
Several days of this sort of morning locomotion went on, it was also the time that Ryujin came over. Poor girl brought over new confectionaries - mostly of her favorites; brought lunch boxes she herself fully funded; found ways to amuse herself and Mr. Rager during the listless hours.
“What’s the interest rate of this debt? Surely, a person like me, fastened to the bed with belts (a pure exaggeration), wouldn’t be extorted with dubious rates?”
“Mr. Rager, you’ll have to declare bankruptcy by the end of it, seriously. You owe me. Big time.” She joked back, of course, she didn’t really expect much. By her own goodwill, Ryujin was looking after Mr. Rager, an exchange of her goodwill would almost sour all her community service - again, a flash of her trait, a blithely weak trait in modern society, a subtle revulsion to being paid for her services.
Mr. Rager, however, was the opposite. Rogue-man, Rager man, Mr. Rager, a name that fits him so closely, from the early onset of consciousness, an unruly rebelliousness coursing through his veins at all times, with flourish - with the crimonest red. He’s done it all, disowning his billionaire politician parents, who still relish the thought of meeting Mr. Rager one day; losing all his wealth, gaining it back the next; then, enjoying it all on a single roulette wheel, then forgiving the casino when they couldn’t pay his winnings; and then dying for a few seconds, under the angelic influence of the so-called hellish “nose candy”. But for his closure, his preference—he’s pastless, futureless.
That’s the dilemma, Ryujin hadn’t learned a single thing about Mr. Rager that was worth pulling a strand on. Contradictory statements only confounded her further, and a reply to her joke - of bankruptcy and debt - he’d say, “I’d have to find it buried somewhere.” And she’d think, “What? What the hell? What’s buried? What’s ‘it’ ?”
Often the thought was interrupted, never fully leaving its conception—Mr. Rager wanted to keep it that way. Ryujin, often on her phone, never leaving her eyes off Mr. Rager, spent her delicate hours in the breezy, spacious hospital room.
Mr. Rager, of course alarmed, would ask - every day - “why do you visit so often?”
Then, Ryujin, really not knowing an answer, would default to a bland answer of so and so - real political talk. This procession, of nothing happening, stretching on for days was repetitive. It also made them happy. She’d put on her makeup, with her artsy hands - quick and fast. The rapidity with which she approached this situation, so contrary to all the aspects of her life - seemingly, Mr. Rager had brought vitality to Ryujin.
And in comes the day of withdrawal, the hospital withdrawal - where Ryujin and Mr. Rager resided comfortably. The door clicked softly as the nurse entered; simultaneously, Ryujin and Mr. Rager’s hairs stood up - what are they alarmed for? It was not, the nurse, no, absolutely not, the nurse was jovial, happy, thinking that she was delivering happy news.
She didn’t know that both of them found their only sources of joy inside this hospital. The nurse thought that she was relieving them of a most ludicrous bill, by ending it as soon as possible - as this hospital in particular, charges in hours, yeah, real dystopian shit. And so, it was a surprise when both the people had an almost disdainful stare towards her - it’s just my imagination, the nurse thought.
–
“Are you sure? You know overdraft schedules cost significantly more?” The nurse asked, confused, concerned.
“Yeah, yeah, I just want to stay here for one more day.” Mr. Rager replied.
“But, but - do you have any ailment? That’ll bring down the price.”
“None at all, I just want to stay here for another day more.”
Rich people are nuts, the nurse, still, complied, letting him stay, leaving him for another day.
–
As the day progressed, Ryujin came back, again, in the evening. “Your schedule, how do you do that?” Mr. Rager was genuinely impressed with how Ryujin utilized her time, imagine his surprise when she just says, “I just skipped some stuff.”
“Alright, well, thanks for coming.” And that got Ryujin thinking, was this his first time thanking me? Which, in fact, did make her day. And, she wouldn’t dare challenge this once in a lifetime behavior - that’d be a quick way for that behavior to be stashed away, forever. Again, as soon as she entered, the atmosphere changed.
It’s about damn time they understand the euphoric peacefulness they rouse for each other. And, today was one of the moments where Mr. Rager gives a slight glimpse of his life - the confounding ones that really led to nowhere. “I think my aversion to alcohol comes from the fact that I had kids with this chick, married this chick, bought a mansion for us to live in - and, only too late, realized that it was really the alcohol that talked.”
Ryujin’s heart sank, “what? You have kids?”
“Not anymore, don’t have custody over them anymore.” He was so unbothered, utterly unbothered.
“I’m sorry for asking, just curious—what happened to them?”
He chuckled, “No more personal questions after this, alright?”
She nodded, her beady eyes on full alert. The pillow that she borrowed from the hospital bed, on her lap. She was intently listening from the comfortable armchair.
“I let her take the kids, she didn’t ask for alimony or anything like that—just that, on the condition that I don’t contact them ever again.” He stared at the ceiling, sorting some of it out, not sure if it was some traumatic experience. Nevertheless, he continued, “she found me unbearable after a while, and I found her unbearable as well. I was never there too: too busy with money. She probably didn’t chase after alimony because she already had a sweetheart - with money - to get back to.” With so much ease, as if he’d been through too many lifetimes - too many he can remember.
“Oh,” that’s it, that’s all the reaction she can give.
“Oh, what’s with that reaction?” He chuckled.
“I-I’msorryIdon’treallyknow-” she paused, “Hey! You’re being so annoying today.”
“Sometimes, a flipped script - like teaser gets teased - leads to masterpieces.”
“Any examples?”
“Nah, I just made it up.”
From then on, the conversations continued; the deep introspective pauses continued, listlessly; and both began to feel the drowsy effect of the combination of warm light and black-out curtains.
And a tired Mr. Rager loves beauty.
“Ryujin.”
“Hm?” She looked back, staring at him with her doe eyes.
“You’re like marijuana.” One can say he has a way with words.
“What?” Her brows stitched in confusion.
“You’re fucking amazing to have around. But, I swore to never, nev-” He fell into a deep sleep, so contrary to his habits: he’s never fallen asleep with his own mind’s permission.
Her doe-like eyes opened farther open. Her heart began beating listlessly, skipping beats. I’ve got to leave, before I-. Yet she magneted closer to the bed, where Mr. Rager slept so peacefully. Did I do that? He’s always complaining about sleeping, yet- yet he slept so easily. She was making up all sorts of situations, scenarios, theories - none of them healthy for the mind.
And, before she knew it, under the bright moonlight radiating into the room, gentle shadows across his face, she leaned closer, letting her soft lips touch the peak of his cheekbone, causing shivers across her spine, and she thought fuck, fuck, I’m really doing it - and when that wasn’t enough - then his forehead, feeling the warmth radiating from his forehead on her lips. But no more, that’d be too much, too much.
Under her own shame, her bright flush cheeks, her dilated pupils, twin pools of dark moons: she quickly left the room, carrying all her stuff such that it’d be guaranteed to fall in the middle of the hallway, a real mess she made of herself.
CHAPTER II:
Keep movin' forward, keep movin' forward
I'm so-I'm so reborn, I'm movin' forward
Along the way home, the realization washed over her like a molotov flame - its gentle but fiery shimmer covering the entirety of her body. And the way her heart pumped, any performative act she could do to stop it was useless - ultimately doing nothing, nada, zilch. The sound of his roaring laughter from her jokes, the curve of his smile, the messy stubble, god, she was really losing it inside the bus. Her every thought, motion, every constriction of her body - pulse and all - was consumed by him. Her legs rubbed together desperately, and the slightest, faintest moan left her quivering lips as she let her imagination go wild.
And the fact that… that an elderly lady was behind her, judging her provocative movements, just nudged her on further - full on deviant shit.
As soon as she’d be home, she’d have a towel under her.
–
Fortunately, past the hospital departure, they wanted to see each other again - platonically. However, it’s been days, and though that may seem quite short, they’ve never been separated for more than 12 hours.
And these days, these listlessly long days, let Ryujin know of her sympathetic entanglement, and, seemingly intensifying it. Ryujin, with her sore body, stared at Mr. Rager’s phone number on her phone - the curves of the numbers kept reminding her of everything she thought about days before (the curves of the numbers some dubious correlation with Mr. Rager). She’s about to do it again, two fingers, knuckle-deep, into her folds until she’s a drooling mess on the bed. She was already a mess to begin with, a crook in her neck, half her bed unmade, sleep-deprived.
That isn’t to say that Mr. Rager wasn’t just as affected. He never succumbed to the pleasure of the hand, but the dreams, the wistful dreams. Imagining her close smile against him, moaning soft and goading phrases right into his ear - melodiously erotic. Her soft palms against his broad back, pressing deep - trying her best to not scratch up his back. You’re fucking me so good, mm- she’s whimpering, right on your ear, fuck, shivers throughout. Then, halt. It’s the fucking alarm.
Both awake, going through their groggy morning routines to finally meet again. Would it be as magical as it was in the hospital? Would it ever be so calm?
–
The time to meet was approaching quickly. Ryujin got ready, her perfect face, judiciously given with all her perfect talents, was colored with minimal effort, any more and she’d show off her inexperience with makeup - Mr. Rager would’ve lost it all regardless. Because, she was dressed in this tight dress, the type of dress that a girl like her deserves, expensive, ornate, sexy; but, she was a special case, she’d never worn something so ornate and so revealing, and the mirror would reflect a little doe desperately pulling on the hems that revealed her taut thick thighs, the cusp of her petite bosom, and any effort to cover was an ultimately futile effort, this was something she had come to terms with, before leaving her small studio.
And, as if she were in a Wong-Kar Wai movie, she entered the bus: all glammed out in a shitty environment. And the nervous eyes in the bus quickly looked away, intimidated heavily; still, some passengers hoped that they could get a glimpse with the spasm of their pupils to her direction - that’s how good she looked.
She sat down mindfully, crossing her legs - alarmingly aware of the stares. Her face adopted a natural blush - a face too beautiful to hide. Her eyes, set beneath her delicately arched eyebrows, stared at the reflection of herself from the wide glass. She’d never be able to understand her own beauty, too often enveloped in imposter syndrome, and the only person, Mr. Rager, would be the one, who could tell her the beauty of her cascading black hair; her large eyes, accentuated by a deep-set gaze; the beauty with which she carried herself, awkward, yet enigmatically, always, the most beautiful person in the room.
Mr. Rager, gaunt from the opioids, still looked herculean, a fitful combination that fit any clothing piece. With an androgynous face that was covered with sharp eyebrows, dark under eyes, high cheek-bones, and a sort of asymmetrical face that was almost better than the conventional symmetry: in summary, he was someone you couldn’t miss. This inherited comeliness comes with its risks, from the ease of life to the women, things that Mr. Rager succumbed to in violent fashion. Other than that, his preparation was pretty rapid, hopping into his entirely dark-tinted - for obvious reasons - car and set off into the gentle night.
Ryujin landed at the closest bus point to the meeting point. Her dress was unsuited for the weather, and her body began going frigid under a chilly summer day. That’s until a black car, a mercedes s-class, stopped ahead of her. It was nothing to be worried about, she’d just pass by it, acting as if she didn’t see it. However, the figure that exited the car was all too familiar: Mr. Rager.
“Ryujin.” Mr. Rager took a look, scanning her body - making it all too obvious with his pupils - instantly realized why he’s been thinking constantly about her - she’s just the most beautiful person.
And Ryujin, the way her knees slightly folded from seeing Mr. Rager, a slight spasm in her joints - she really missed him. And her hands crossed together between her loins, her eyes opened slightly larger.
“Don’t be so nervous.” He chuckled, that chuckle, that deep chuckle - Ryujin could feel the heat in her core. “Come in, you still have a long way to go,” she gladly accepted, entering into the car: feeling the soft seats, the fragrance of the unusual smell of vanilla and sandalwood (in a car?), and the overwhelming luxury around her surroundings.
“Be sure to dial the temperature or dial whatever you need, I’m sure you were pretty cold outside.” Mr. Rager said, aware of how Ryujin is not one to engage in something without permission - only if he knew what she’d done, the moment before she left, that day. However as he talked, all Ryujin could respond with was a chuckle, she was too focused on how the sentence sounded, how his eyes placed on her face, and occasionally, how it landed on her chest. And that was just the pinnacle for her.
He couldn't stop his gaze, this fermentation of a pending calamity was bounding closer and closer, and thrilled both parties to no end - they couldn’t even hide their own temptations behind the screen of a platonic hang out. By the seconds, the passing seconds, they got bolder, he got bolder. He let his eyes wander far down, her creamy white legs, her meticulous maintenance of it all. And Ryujin was wallowing in it all, his sharp gaze made her feel warmer, wetter - enticing her to dial down the temperature, a contrast from when she was so cold outside.
Still, they’d say nothing, despite it all. The silent hum of the tire scraping against the asphalt was all the credence, the distraction, they were allowed. The rest was this endorphin-filled, endorphin-crazed environment where both of them knew that they were pushing too quickly, given the fact that this companionship began from a suicide attempt.
Still, there’s this slip of time, where they could, possibly, love each other. Though, before these exponential entropic forces caused all sorts of calamity, they arrived at the spot. This run-down complex, that hid a quaint restaurant with private rooms, was a source of nostalgia for Mr. Rager. Ryujin followed, climbing the stairs, ascending just behind him, pulling down on her dress, sticking her thighs together as she climbed (a natural precaution). The restaurant was exactly that, quaint. They entered one of the tight-fitting cubicles, where they sat across from each other, a small sitting-table separated their bodies - unfortunately.
“Don’t be too worried about this restaurant, it may be run down, but it’s a great experience.”
“Oh, no, no, I’m not worried about that, I frequent far more run down establishments than this.” As the words left her tongue, Ryujin cringed, frequent? What am I? A prostitute? Her eyebrows knitted.
“Relax Ryujin,” he chuckled, “enjoy yourself, I’ll pay for it all.”
“That’s the first step to the debt?” Ryujin grinned, loosening, gaining her natural confidence.
“Perhaps. Come on, go crazy.” There it is, that nice toothy grin, her cheeks ripple into some sort of whiskers - god, he’d do anything for that, again and again.
The dishes came, oily dishes full of food, and Ryujin’s eyes glazed in excitement. After a brief, too quick, moment of eating, both of them leaned back - absolutely full.
“You got a bird’s stomach for your ambition, Ryujin.”
“And you’re a head taller than me, but you’re leaning as well!”
“Good point.” He chuckled, fighting indigestion through it.
“I don’t even like oily food.”
“Me too.”
This time, a collaborative laugh.
Mr. Rager paid the meager bill, leaving all the food to rot on the table - the plight of abundance.
–
“Anything you want to do today?” Mr. Rager asked, putting on his seatbelt.
“It’s really late, I really wanted to punish your wallet, you played your cards right going out so late..” Ryujin relaxed into the seat, fully comfortable, in-tune.
“Well, if you don’t have any plans. Mind if I go the reservation for us?”
“What reservation?”
“That’d ruin the surprise, Ryujin.” The ambient sound of the tires against the ground in combination with the dark night - the darkest night before morning - was an even more intense atmosphere.
This peaceful atmosphere, intense, yet peaceful, again, just like the hospital visits. This interesting continuation of happiness, so foreign to his life, was something that he could get used to. His forearm pressed against the storage compartment, letting his hand spill over; his other arm was loosely steering, as loose as the gentle dark night.
As he trailed the road, occasional peeks at Ryujin showed her transition to sleep: drowsy eyelids that infrequently close for periods of time, then, longer periods, then, sleep.
Who was this angel? This angel that wrought Mr. Rager all manners of hope, of happiness, of reflection. If he hadn’t been so stubborn about his affliction towards personal information, maybe, just maybe he’d understand her more, this girl - so beautifully clad in a flowery dress.
Is this love, this elusive feeling? How could it be so cruel? So cruel as to bring it to me at a time so random, and so heavily…
Again, he forgot his bad habit: speaking his thoughts out loud.
He realized too late, and he could feel her large eyes staring at him, confused.
Yet, and yet, he felt the gentle warmth of another palm on his forearm - a reassuring grip.
“Min, I love you too.”
CHAPTER III: No Longer Mr. Rager
I want to kiss you on your space below your navalette
The place you keep so neat, so moist like a towelette
Ryujin, her beautifully beady eyes looked at you, as she lifted your forearm, planting little kisses all over it.
“Oh Ryujin.”
“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for that, Min.” A statement that left her lips as she continued worshiping his forearm.
Jesus, this woman.
He pulls into the closest parking spot, giving not a single fuck that there were a few cars there - all likely empty, anyway.
And, with all pretenses and courtesy removed, the forearm that was so judiciously worshiped, wrapped around her nape, pulling her into a searing kiss. That deep moan, that accepting moan as his mouth opened against hers. He almost forgot the most essential question - suddenly, slightly pulling away from the kiss.
“How’d you find out about my name, Ryujin?” Min asked.
“A woman doesn’t disclose her secrets, besides, how could my love not have a name?” Cheesy, feisty, what a woman.
“Good point.” Another searing kiss, dynamic, evolving, every step more depravedly romantic than the previous.
He was pretty sure that he’d break something, in the middle compartment, that separated you from total body connection. Again, you pull away, this time, it brought out a desperate whine out of her, her arms that wrapped desperately around you kept pulling you in - like a vortex.
She understood the memo as soon as he exited the car - love connection. This time, with a wider space, still constricted, was the best they could do, and they’d relish this extra space. Min, naturally assumed dominance over Ryujin, her body acclimated against his aggressive pulls and pushes - all for the pleasure of Ryujin, and she didn’t take it lightly, each breath heavy with the densest pleasure. Oh, oh, oh, keep manhandling me. She’d whisper. And he’d obey.
As Ryujin, with her tight dress, splayed against the seats on her back, took initiative to take off Min’s clothes, button-by-button. “Oh I’ll fuck you so good, Ryujin, so fucking good.” He’d repeat, over and over, and Ryujin would get more aroused by each iteration: “Yes, yes! Please.” Occasional soft bites were felt all over his collarbone, his neck, his earlobe. “Possessive little bird, I’m not going anywhere.” He caressed her head, making sure that he’d also mark her, a heavy hickey on her neck.
And Ryujin fucking loves it, she softly caresses him, soft grasps against his back, locking her taut legs around him, begging for continuations. And, Min would obey, in his own rebellious way, tightly grabbing her breasts - hidden behind the dress - then pressing kisses all over her neck, nearly all of them hickeys.
“Fuck the reservation,” he grunted, it was an expensive reservation, but he doesn’t give a fuck: Ryujin’s right under him, begging for him to ravage her taut body. And she replies, “That’s right, that’s right, mister, master!” The end of her sentence was capitalized by Min’s heavy grasp on her breasts.
“That’s right, little bird.” Low grunts against her ears, his thick shaft, covered, grinded against her body, while his mouth assaulted hers.
And she cums, her head turns up, looking wherever - straining her neck - to release her pleasure. “Ngghhh!!!” A heavy whine, so enthusiastically human, straining against the seats that held her back. “Holy shit! That was so amazin-” enough talking, he’d motion, locking mouths together.
Silent moans, “mmmf..” hummed against his tongue, Ryujin was so turned on, and he’d love to fulfill all her wishes. Each rotation of his hip against hers were accentuated by Ryujin’s deep moan, squeaky moans, the moans that she couldn’t hide by covering her mouth. His hand, fixed onto her breasts, finally ventured below, feeling her lithe abdomen - the slightest abs - then letting his hand rest on her pelvis, just above her pussy.
He finally released himself from the hypnotizing kiss, staring at her body - mostly still covered by the dress: now, that, won’t do. He pulled on the bottom hem of her dress, revealing her wet core, an embarrassed squeak along with it all. “You’re so fucking hot, Jesus,” he had a taste of what her body looked like, and he just can’t get enough. All precaution thrown out the window, the expensive dress was about to be ruined, and Ryujin - ever resourceful - seemed to allow it. He pulled the upper hem of the dress down, breaking the straps that could’ve been removed easily - this is a statement, I own you - Ryujin seemed to get the memo - all beady and begging.
Her soft breasts, creamy, smooth, with pink nubs spilled out from the tight dress. He pressed both his hands, all over her body, exploring the transitions from her taut skin to the scrunched dress, making sure to remember every facet of it all. “How badly do you want it?” He whispered, wholly focused on her body, subtly noticing her wet core, the outline of her pussy growing clearer by the second. And Ryujin didn’t even have to answer the question, locking her legs around his waist, frantically trying to get her hips on his covered shaft - yeah, she’s fiending for it.
And Min, ever the indulgent, gently moved and hovered his hand over her neck, waiting for that confirmation, that wink, that nod - and, Ryujin, calming down from the intense pleasure, nodded. That first grasp, tight, measuring her tolerance, measuring just the moment when the eyes go back to her eyes - and he seemed to completely pinpoint it, that slight spasm of her body, and her inner thighs are just soaked.
Finally, Min decided it’s time to give her sopping cunt some attention. Peeling the layer to the side, wet with the highest arousal, hid her bright pink core - and it, her core, was begging to be sated, pulsing, glistening, beautifully fragrant.
Firstly, he let a single finger prod, then entered. And Ryujin was already shaking, her eyes went straight to the back of her head, and her neck vascularized - all veiny - from the soft choke. It would’ve been too cruel to give her too much pleasure, so he took his hand off her throat, instead, patting her head - letting her know that she's doing so good, so good.
In and out, motion of the ocean, slick covering his finger the deeper he went, earning the most virile moans out of her cute mouth. “You like that, huh?” He dug deeper, until his knuckle - a loud moan. She had never felt anything like this, her two fingers could never compare, and she’s a virgin after all, and she’s about to get deflowered in the backseat of a car - and, she loves it.
In a swift motion, where Min continued his manhandling of Ryujin, he pulled his finger out - in a hook motion to agitate her g-spot, earning a girlish yelp - then, let Ryujin taste her own juices on his finger.
“You’re doing so good.” Min whispered, so overly joyed by Ryujin, how her petite body convulsed in pleasures beyond what he could ever imagine.
“I know.” Ryujin replied, defiant to the end. She knew exactly how this inspired him to be rougher - and she loves it. He gripped her waist, gripping harder, letting her firm abdomen mold against his grip, dug deeper into her cunt, placing his thumb over her engorged clit. One. Two. Three motions around her clit, three motions of his finger into her cunt - before she squirted onto the side window, far more girlish yelps, and desperate panting. This time, Min with his wet hand, spread it all over Ryujin’s face - the essence of her arousal, via his hand, spread on her face, where makeup was placed so thoughtfully, only to be ruined by her own squirt. She’s panting amidst all this, unable to process anymore than her overwhelming second orgasm.
“You’re a fucking mess, Ryujin, cumming this quickly?”
“You made me this way…” She huffed, “you fucking brute.”
This time, all Min does is press against her pelvis - specifically, the pelvic bone, where just below is her g-spot, and the slight pressure, was absolutely deadly. All the while, he declared, “That’s right, little bird. I’ll press you against the seat, face-down, slam into your ass with all the force I can muster - then, when I’m deep, too deep, cervix-level deep, I’ll release all my cum into your precious little womb.”
“Nghhh~~!” And another squirt, where her legs closed together, toes curled, and her head hung back. While Ryujin was trying to recover, Min placed a quick and wet kiss on her lips, but that'd be the only romanticism that Min allowed her. Quickly, he let her sit up, pulling her by her thin wrists. Then, he pulled down his own pants - letting his shaft free from the restraints of his tight clothing, the painful onset of an early blue balls in its conception, that was only fuel to the fire to fuck Ryujin good, and hard.
“Sit on my lap facing me, Ryujin.” He demanded. And no matter how much Ryujin came, squirted, panted, and yelped - she’d always oblige in Min’s demands. She quickly hooked her other leg over him, in a hovered position rather than sitting. This time, he passed his fingers through her wet hair, letting it pass behind her ear, “safe word is Mimetic,” and he earned a soft nod from Ryujin, and consent to batter her sopping, wet, sticky, engorged pussy.
He slithered a hand around her waist, holding her in place; then, placed his other hand around her neck, just on the nape. He pulled her in for one last kiss. The last bit of eye contact before penetration, and all that could be seen in Ryujin’s eyes - beady and all wet from pleasure - was a fiending desire to be fucked silly.
Slowly, he let her descend, right up until his tip kissed her wet folds. She winced from her sensitivity, just from the touch. And that’s when it flashed in her eyes, she wasn’t sure if she was ready, given the fact that she hadn’t told him about her virginity. Before she could realize her thoughts through speech, she felt the intense heat of something foreign entering - something so thick and large - and it wrought every emergency signal in her brain - all of them, positive. “Oh–OH, fuck…” is all that Ryujin squeaked out before he pushed in deeper, feeling her gentle pussy wrap around his shaft - all wet and moist. A constant sizzling whisper could be heard from Ryujin as he buried his cock deeper, until, halfway in, where she let out a deep moan. “Holy fuck,” she moaned again, deeper. Holy fuck is right, her body was so resistant, tight right at the start to the end, yet, the way it also sucked his shaft into its wet folds - Min was already addicted.
“Ryujin, you’re so tight.” He said as he kept nudging Ryujin to move farther down, waiting for her glistening pussy to completely wrap around his shaft - then, eventually, completely devour her in the backseats of his own car. Yet, as he went through it with her, he began clueing in on the note - Ryujin is very.. Too sensitive. Why Ryujin focused on getting herself down, skewering herself on his length - desperately breathing, her chest dilating in and out. Through it all, as Ryujin tried to, adorably, hide her inexperience, Min pressed a compassionate kiss right into her mouth.
“I love that. The fact that you’re so horny for a virgin.” He whispered against her mouth, breathing hotly, immeasurably hard.
And Ryujin needn’t respond at all, all she needed to do - well, did - was reach out with her tongue for his mouth, with those prey eyes, begging to be taken, testing her fickle fate - a sign that he needed to kiss her, devour her, again and again until hell freezes over. And finally, during the desperate haze of a reunification of mouths, he finally buried himself straight to the hilt, in her pink, glistening, sopping, beautiful core. And slowly, the wet sounds of sex, so blatantly loud in this claustrophobic environment, reverberated inside the car; the wet sounds of her moans covered this hazy atmosphere, coming from her lips that detached from his mouth, streaks of saliva still connecting them both; and that feeling, this mutual feeling of utter bliss, how her back bent - contorted - into every pump.
They couldn’t stop staring at each other, two perverts, two soulmates who couldn’t go for a second without looking at each other. Even when Min pushed up harder, letting his full length pass through her virginal hole, they still maintained that sensual eye contact - that essential eye contact.
“You fuck me so good, Min.” Ryujin said as her two small breasts jolted from every pump, every contraction of his length leaving her one step closer to ruin - until her eyes went back to that dangerous place, that orgasm line. And the resulting pressure, that heavenly pressure, pressed against his shaft so strongly, that his tight-lipped mouth let out a few growls of pleasure, a sign that he’s close to painting her womb in baby batter.
Ryujin, ever the caretaker, felt the convulsions, and began pressing desperate kisses over his face - anywhere she could reach, whilst patting him on the back. And Min would never admit he liked it, that he loved it, and he didn’t need to admit it, Ryujin already knew.
And she knew exactly, that this was the final straw that she needed to break before she was filled with his essence, the catalyst of that final convulsion. Min immediately seized, grabbing Ryujin in a bearhug - one that could’ve bruised her - and pumped hard, that final wet sound of sex, before, rope after rope of release entered deep inside her, splashing against her cervix, filling her womb.
“FUCKKK!!” He growled, he hadn’t felt this good since ever. And the same for Ryujin, who cried a leaky yelp, where her last bits of squirt flowed down the slightest nook from their love connection. They were static for a moment, relishing in the deviant copulation they engaged in, where, almost, the condensation of their lovemaking was visible in the air of the car.
“I love you.” She kissed him again, staring all lovey-dovey, as if her pupils had gone and turned into hearts.
“I love you.” He stared at her, happy, smiling.
“I love you more.” She added, exaggerating her laugh, trying to tease.
“I concede.” He replied.
“Heyyy! You’re supposed to say it back!” “I’m more for physical demonstrations. Wanna see?”
“Uh no. Please. It feels like it's about to fall off.” She was mentioning her pussy, all swollen and gummy to the eye.
“I love it, it’s so beautiful.” He replied, fully serious, digging his mouth into her neck, he was absolutely crazy about her.
“Min, I gotta take a shower, you’re being gross-” that’s when Min pressed a finger onto her - still engorged - clit, and proceeded to say, “I’m fucking crazy about you.”
“Ngh! Stop! Seriously, it’s about to fall off.” Unfortunately, the collected accumulation of their love juices swiftly dripped down as Ryujin jolted back from him touching her clit.
“Isn’t this gonna stain your car until the end of time?” She stared at the significant puddle of who knows what.
“Let it. A commemoration of our intense copulation.”
Ryujin blushed, quickly grabbing the tissues that Min offered her, and wiping off all that she released, her entire lower half, essentially, was wet. And Min got aroused from watching Ryujin cleaning herself - her little winces when she slightly grazed her cunt only adding fuel to the fire. “Clean my cock.” Min demanded, but when Ryujin grabbed the tissues - ready to oblige - he replied, “with your mouth.”
To be continued...
Ahhh, I love cliffhangers. Enjoy waiting for 10 months! (just kidding!)
Honestly, I wanted to take months with this project, but I just can't seem to stop myself (from writing mid stuff).
#ryujin smut#ryujin#itzy smut#smut#kpop smut#fluff#m!reader#male reader#idol!submissive#fanfic#itzy#kpop#so much fluff#recovery#love#romance
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Reading the book I couldn't help but notice how weirdly touchy Bill is when it comes to his previous romantic relationships. He stops himself from talking about his exes and loses his cool whenever the topic is brought up. What's up with that?
Bill is a toxic, controlling person who's perfectly charming and likable (albeit manipulative as the devil) when he's getting his way, but the moment he isn't getting his way, he gets abusive—emotionally, verbally, physically, psychically...
Look at his relationship with Ford: regardless of whether you interpret that as romantic or platonic, Ford is somebody he liked enough that he went on a bender that ended with grossly sobbing in a fast food restaurant when their partnership fell apart; and yet, as much as Bill liked Ford, when Ford refused to do what he asked, Bill had no trouble mangling him, publicly humiliating him, getting him in legal trouble, attempting to emotionally torment his brother, and threatening worse. That's what he does to a person he likes.
Do you think he was any kinder when he didn't like what his lovers did?
I think every one of his relationships ended not just badly, but SPECTACULARLY horribly. "Hours long screaming match" horribly, "break all the furniture" horribly, "quickly and secretly moving out while Bill's distracted" horribly, "looking up how to file a restraining order from the hospital bed" horribly. Bloody Mary ghosting him is probably one of the softest breakups he's had (and I suspect it's because she saw the red flags and ran before Bill could show his worst side).
NONE of those breakups were amicable. All Bill's exes hate his guts—the ones that survived him, anyway.
And I'd bet you anything that how abusive he got correlated with how much he loved them. (And let's not have any "but that isn't REALLY love" nonsense—performing love as an action and feeling love as an emotion are two different things, and abusers are capable of feeling love for someone they think they've got the right to hurt.)
The more he likes this person, the more it matters to him that they stay forever in the little box he's put them in and the farther he's willing to go to ensure they don't defy or leave him. The more he loved them, the more he hurt them, and the more devastating the breakup.
But if he liked them that much, then the fact that it's OBVIOUSLY his fault wouldn't make getting dumped hurt less. Getting dumped is the thing he was trying to prevent by making them too scared to leave!
All Bill's memories of his exes are memories of people he loved telling him how much they detest him and cutting him out of their lives. Of course he doesn't want to talk about it.
Bill says himself, "love is just the pupa stage for hate." In his experience, that's how it always ends.
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I am clean from sh for about 6 months now (yay me) and lately, idk why, I’ve just kinda been struggling with accepting my scars and the fact that I’ll have them probably forever and your writing is really comforting and actually helps, so I wanted to ask if u could maybe write something with Spencer helping reader feel ok with having them on reader‘s thighs?
totally understand that that’s a touchy topic and if u don’t wanna write it, I also completely get it, thanks anyway for even reading this xxx
Ahh yay you!!! Congrats baby, and thank you for requesting <3
cw: past self harm, some nudity that's really not sexual but they joke about it a bit
Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words
You’re sweltering. D.C. doesn’t usually get very warm, but for the last week you’ve been on a streak of record-breaking temperatures that’s made your clothes stick to your skin and has caused even your perpetually chilled boyfriend to refrain from putting on his cardigan until he gets inside his work each morning. Just walking between your car and various air conditioned buildings is enough to make you consider moving to the Arctic.
“Oh my god,” you groan, flopping inelegantly down on the bed to peel your jeans off. “Can we turn the A/C down to sixty, please?”
“Let’s start with seventy,” Spencer negotiates. You hear his footsteps stop halfway down the hall as he adjusts the monitor. “I think we still have some lemonade left, if you want some.”
“Ugh, yes.” You tear your jeans off your ankles with enough force to nearly send them flying across the room and sigh blissfully as the A/C kicks on.
You change out of your sweaty shirt too, going for your pajamas despite it being hours from darkness falling. You have no plans to go out into that hellscape again until tomorrow. You hesitate over a pair of pajama shorts before slipping on loose pants instead, not quite as cool but still light enough to allow some air flow.
“I love you,” you tell Spencer when he passes you your lemonade as you come into the living room, sitting beside him on the couch. Ice clinks inside your glass, which is already forming little beads of condensation. You have the urge to rub it on your face. “I mean, unconditionally, but especially right now.”
“I’ll take it,” he jokes back, tilting his head back so his face is in the path of the A/C vent. When he looks up, he finds you pinching up the fabric of your pants around your knees, trying to create a pathway for the air to move up your legs. “Why are you wearing those?”
You know what he’s asking you, and you intentionally misunderstand. “I felt like it was pajama time. No way am I going outside again today.”
“Right, but aren’t you warm?” Spencer tilts his head. He looks like a particularly cunning puppy, brown eyes soft and inquisitive.
“A little,” you admit.
“Then why not wear something shorter?”
“That’s awfully forward of you.” You do your best to give him a smile. It doesn’t stick around long in the face of your boyfriend’s serious expression, increasingly worried. “Maybe I don’t feel like parading my legs around for you.”
You can see the cogs turning in Spencer’s brain, and the usually fascinating process is suddenly almost painful to watch. You know he’s thinking of what you refusing to wear shorts used to mean, how nobody ever thought anything of it because, again, D.C. doesn’t tend to get very warm. How evasive you were about it then, too. An uncomfortable weight settles in your stomach.
“Is there a reason you don’t want them out?” he asks, and his voice is gentle but his gaze is unflinching.
You try to hold it as you shake your head. “I’m still clean.” The words seem to take more air than they should. Your guilt and embarrassment are enough to choke on. “I promise.”
Spencer nods. “I believe you.”
His eyes don’t so much as twitch down to your covered thighs. Relief like a cool breeze passes through you. It’s no small thing, his trust in you. Not after you’d gone so far out of your way to hide the evidence of your hurt from him before.
“But it’s still related to that, isn’t it?” He lifts his glass, taking a sip before wiping the corner of his mouth. You almost smile, picturing your boyfriend in an interrogation room asking questions with this same gentle tone and wide open, curious expression. You don’t think Spencer could ever be harsh.
“Yeah,” you say. What felt like something private and humiliating a minute before you suddenly want to share with him. Spencer tends to have that effect on you; he makes divulging your most gut-twisting secrets feel natural and easy. “My scars just haven’t gone away. I don’t really want to see them.”
Spencer’s mouth pinches. “You know they won’t ever fully go away, right?”
“Yeah.” You sigh, but it doesn’t feel like letting anything out. “I know.”
“They will probably fade, though.” His fingers circle your ankle loosely, calluses skimming softly over your achilles tendon. “Is it that you don’t want to see them, or you don’t want me to?”
You rub your lips together. Shrug. “Both, I guess.”
He tilts his head. Like your answer is expected, but nonetheless perplexing. “I don’t care if I see them,” he says. His hand coasts up your leg, over the fabric of your pants, until he grasps it by your knee. “Can I?”
You nod. You know he’d let it go if you said no, but it’s not worth begrudging him. “Sure.”
Spencer brings both hands to the fabric at your hips, and you lift your bum up off the couch as he pulls downwards. Your legs are happy to breathe, the cool air coming out of the vent even nicer than you’d thought it would be. Spencer keeps going until your pajama pants are balled up underneath your feet.
“You really were hot,” he says. It’s neither teasing nor gloating, a simple statement of fact. His fingers come to rest at your ankle again, and it’s the only kind of warmth you’ll allow. “Is it actually worth it?”
You look down at your thighs. Your skin feels better than it had covered up, but it’s also a physical reminder of things you’d rather forget. “I don’t know,” you reply.
“I understand why you don’t like them,” Spencer says. When you look up, you expect him to be as stuck on your scars as you are, but he’s looking at your face. His stare is calm and unmoving, like they don’t command his attention the way they do yours. “But I think they may be with you for a while. It might help to start trying to get used to them.”
You blow out a breath. “I want to.”
“I know,” he says. Easily, the way he’d said I believe you. And you think that he probably does know. Spencer has things from his past he can’t fully leave behind, too.
His forefinger moves slowly up and down the back of your ankle, an absentminded gesture for him and a comfort for you. Slowly, his eyes dip down to your legs. You fight the urge to squirm and hide.
“You know,” he muses, “there’s actually one thing I sort of like about seeing them.”
Your top lip starts to curl automatically, your brows pulling together. “What?”
“Just, that they’re old.” Spencer seems not to have noticed your reaction. His gaze is contemplative. “I mean, it’s not that I’m looking for them all the time or anything, but it’s nice to see them and know there aren’t going to be any new ones. These ones will fade, and then that will be it.”
Something new clogs your throat. It’s just as heavy as before, but far kinder.
Spencer looks up at you. He looks sheepish, the corner of his mouth uptilted self-consciously. “Sorry, it’s a weird line of thinking. I don’t want you to think I’m always checking on them.”
“No,” you swallow, “I get it. That’s nice, Spence.”
He shrugs. “It’s the truth.”
You could almost laugh. He makes things so simple. “I’ll change into shorts.”
“You don’t have to,” he says. “If you’re already cooling off.”
“Oh, yeah?” You keep your voice light, grinning at him as you shuffle over to straddle his lap. His fingers brush over a couple of the lines on your thigh as he brings them around your back, and the sensation doesn’t make you feel as shuddery as usual. You hug him with your arms around his neck. “You’re cool with me just staying like this then? No pants?”
“Not if you don’t want to wear them,” he says agreeably.
You laugh and hug him harder. “Thanks,” you tell him sincerely.
Spencer only makes a soft dismissive sound as he hugs you back.
#spencer reid#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid hurt/comfort#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid blurb#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid one shot#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fandom#criminal minds x reader#tw past sh#cw past sh
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CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT TELLING BOYFRIEND JAY YOU HAVE NO PANTIES ON AMD CONTINUING CONVERSING LIKE NOTHING HAPPENED PLEASE
warnings: they're in church lmfao, jay malfunctions, finger fucking, car stuff, jay is a needy dominate motherfucker fr
wc: 1.1k
note: ive decided anything over 1.5k will be posted separately from the ask. i still consider this a drabble lol
The words resonate in his brain, bouncing off every image and thought he had previously to you saying that to him. It's like he malfunctions before reacting, his entire body excited by the mere suggestion. "I'm not wearing panties." You had whispered right up against him through an innocent hug. So casually, with a voice so calm and balanced to him. Your tone was no different than when you'd tell him "I missed you" in a hug when you go to his house. Then again, it's not like the tone really matters. It's the words, the suggestion behind them. Given the fact that the two of you are in a place where it's considered highly inappropriate for his body to be acting this way. You manage to make it more inappropriate that you didn't wear panties in the first place.
The two of you are rarely ever found at church but on the rare occasion, your parents ask for you to be there. In turn, you always drag your boyfriend with you to save you from the long and boring few hours needing to be spent there. So, yeah, it's safe to say that the way Jay reacts is expected considering he can't actually react the way he wants or needs to right now. You did it to tease, to be cheeky and make him suffer even more. He can tell by the way you smirk, acting as if that hug you just gave him was nothing more and absolutely didn't involve dirty talk. He watches how you ignore his hungry gaze now, continuing a conversation with your parents and great aunt. He's supposed to be involved in this topic but instead he's too busy knowing that if he simply slips his hand up your dress, he could slide right in.
You’re so…defiant, and all of it reminds him why he loves being with you. Always sweet, always beautiful, always fucking loving it when he’s suffering not only because of you, but for you.
And you continue to tease him through the event. You’re well aware that he’s in his head about it, considering he’s always ready to please and always unintentionally horny around you. You enjoy that about him though, because it lets you fuck with him in a place like this.
Watching him suffer is funny, usually, because you know at some point he’s gonna break and absolutely break you along with him. But right now? You’ve never done this to him in a space where he couldn’t escape or lose his composure.
It’s not funny now. It’s hot.
Even the slightest grip of your hand on his bicep makes him release a small, frustrated sigh. Anyone else would think that sound is just him catching his breath, or perhaps pondering what heaven would be like for him. But you know what that sound is. You hear it most often against your neck or between your legs.
A frustrated sound that tells you clearly how frustrated Jay becomes knowing he can’t devour you whole and keep you forever. A needy sound that somehow comes from the dominance within him to worship and praise every inch of your body with his mouth, hands, cock–
“Jay–” You whisper again, noting his stiffened body as he pushes through various hugs from people definitely wearing underwear. “What’re you gonna do to me?”
The way the remaining blood in his head rushes to his cock right then and there, snapping his eyes to you just as you pull away from him to give a half-assed hug to the pastor’s wife. The event is coming to a close and he can fucking see how excited you are to find out.
He stares at you knowingly, looking you up and down, with the way you wore a dress far too short for this event anyway. Your mother commented on when she saw you, she even apologized to him for your blatant disrespect or something.
Your mother may be against you flaunting your body, but Jay knew from the moment he saw you that you did it for him. To occupy him. To apologize for dragging him here with you.
Only to fuck him up by telling him your pussy is literally out for him too, and now?! You want to know what he’s going to do to you?
Oh, baby. Just you wait.
The final five minutes of the event feel like they lasted twice as long as the services, but eventually you find yourself in Jay’s car again. You knew he wouldn’t make it out of the parking lot, truly.
The moment he gets into his car, his hand shoots straight between your legs as if he needed proof. Somehow, the force of his hand shocks you. He’s not gentle, he’s needy, forceful. You can tell by the way he lets out a breathy groan finding you not only naked under this dress, but dripping too.
Jay can’t help himself. He slips two fingers in automatically, moaning at the pleasure he knows he intends to give to you.
“You wanna know what I’m gonna do to you?” He finally asks, tucking his fingers deep in you before using the other hand to maneuver out of the parking lot.
You note the speed of which he backs out and drives away, yet the stillness and pressure of his fingers still show the same eager need.
“Mhm–” You nod, blinking at him innocently all while spreading your legs like the whore you know you want to be for him.
Jay side eyes you at that, keeping his eyes on the road but feeling the clench of your needy pussy. He doesn’t need to look at you to know what sort of sly expression you’re throwing at him. You know what you did, and you know what you’re gonna get for it too.
“I think you know exactly what I’m going to do.”
And while the two of you do make it back to Jay’s house, you don’t quite make it out of the garage and into the living room at the very least. His bedroom is out of the question, just a couple of feet too far, and a couple of seconds too long to wait by now.
You’re not shocked to find yourself fucked open and making a mess from his fingers alone after a mere three minutes of him turning his car off, and he’s not shocked that you’re dripping all over him when he pulls his cock out and plants you directly on it without so much as opening his car door.
He leans his seat back with ease, knowing you’ll have the control in this instance but he doesn’t mind. He’s not going to be done with you quite yet anyway.
You both know it.
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sunghoon.
= 𝓙𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮, 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 ── P.SH 💬
in which your long distance bf craves your contact...
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/aad1276d6f2c5388e7451e11e1b42269/2377fc0e03f28f63-68/s540x810/6d5279c07e11e4497131f1cd431f607f22253bab.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/c091d88a31089a54d7cbcb090e98fd37/2377fc0e03f28f63-c1/s540x810/ff50b39e4f0e93dc5785c4b50fedd1314e2b0488.jpg)
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pairing. ⌂ needy boyfriend sunghoon x f. reader ⌂ contains. mostly suggestive content but with tons of explicit implications, flirting, a bit of fluff, somewhat perv!hoon, long distance relationship au (sawie) ⌂ word count. 1160 🖱 ⑅ path to bookshelf ◍
❝ Incoming Call from Sunghoon ❄️ ❞
Your laptop screen read spontaneously.
Ahh, yes… the love of my life among many other luxuries, you smiled within yourself, just as you pressed the green ‘answer’ icon.
Though, it had been roughly thirty minutes since then, with the clock on your computer screen now displaying an oddly habitual series of digits...
2:57am
You and your boyfriend's conversation started off strong with wholesome pleasantries and heartwarming exchanges as usual…
But as the hour grew wearier, the topics on the table became more and more raunchy by the minute… not that you were complaining, that is…
And neither was he…
It had literally been over a week since Sunghoon last saw you in the flesh… since he last got to feel you in his arms or taste you on his tongue…
And so, FaceTiming had become a great method for you two to stay in touch on a more personal level whenever he was away for work.
Click.
You got up from your bed to make sure that your bedroom door was locked, but also to make sure that Sunghoon knew you were wearing his favorite pair of plaid pajama pants...
The one's he had sent as an “X-mas in July” gift...
“Your ass looks good in those,” he started from behind the screen, folding his toned pale arms over the pillow he laid on.
“Just wait til you see what's hiding underneath,” you returned seductively, adding the word “tomorrow” at the end to which Sunghoon sighed.
“Right, because I've already been waiting forever and a day to relieve my sexual tension this week… another day to the prison sentence wouldn’t hurt…”
“Awww,” you pouted facetiously at him, “I thought you liked it whenever I teased you.…”
“In-person, sure. That’s when I can handle it, but online? Pfft,” he says, running an impatient hand through his hair.
“Fine… let’s play a game to take your mind off of things—”
“I bet I can guess what color panties you’re wearing right now…”
“Sunghoon!?” You exclaimed with shock, making your boyfriend smirk shamelessly at your adorable reaction, “and do you expect some sort of reward if you guess correctly?”
“After three tries, yes,” he nodded, clearing his throat slightly before proceeding with his series of guesses.
“Hmm,” he began, “are they that one lacy black pair you have with the bows on the side?”
“No,” you answered while laughing, “and just guess a color, not a specific pair…”
“Alright alright… hmm,” he hummed in thought, looking above as if an answer would fall from the sky.
“White?”
“Guess again,” your voice sang playfully this time, “you have one chance left now…”
“Shit, okay… I have a suggestion then…”
“Uh oh, plot twist,” you said, making him chuckle slightly, “go on…”
“How about you just show me your panties and then I’ll tell you what color they are?”
“Gosh, you really know a way to a woman’s heart, don’t you Hoon?” You asked rhetorically, ‘tsking’ at his fraudulent suggestion.
“Of course I do… taking a guess here, but you’re supposed to start between her legs, right?”
You shook your head at your boyfriends words, letting an exaggerated sigh escape your lips… “Even if that were true, it’s not like it’d benefit you right now, anyways…”
“Oh? And why’s that?”
“Because you’re behind a screen,” you began matter-of-factly, “miles and miles away with only your right hand and some amateur porn to keep you company…”
“But I have you, too, princess,” he smiled, adjusting himself on the mattress so he could get closer to the camera, “unless you’re thinking about leaving me already…”
“Please, I would never,” you say in an almost offended tone, “that would be child neglect…”
“Oh, so you’re my mommy now?”
You gave him the best side-eye you could muster, making him chuckle at how you cute you looked in your oversized glasses…
“If you’re into that, sure,” you finally answered.
“Well then your baby wants to see his mommy’s tits,” he replied almost instantly, innocently nuzzling his chin into his pillow, “and without the bra this time, thanks…”
“I’m not showing your sick ass shit,” you returned while laughing, throwing up a few ‘L signs’ with your fingers as he chuckled at your rejection, showcasing his pearly fangs.
Letting himself calm down from laughing, he cleared his throat before speaking again, “My next guess is white, then…”
“But you already guessed white earlier?”
“And I’m guessing it again,” he repeated, making you quirk a suspicious brow at him.
“If you’re trying to imply that I creamed my pants, you’re wrong.”
“Oh my God, ____,” he sighs dramatically, adjusting his laying position on his bed once more, “can you just tell me that I’m right so we can fuck already?”
“Oh, so you waited all this time to tell me that sex was supposed to be the reward?!”
“Well, yea, I figured it was obvious,” he shrugged nonchalantly.
“Damn, Hoon… when you put it like that, it makes me think my body’s all you want…”
“You know that’s not all I want, baby,” he corrected, licking his lips while stretching out the tiredness in his back, “I just don’t like being in the position to beg for it, y’know?”
“Welcome to my world…” you said.
“Thanks for having me,” he smiled back, rubbing his eyes as a frustrated groan left his mouth.
“What’s the problem now, you big baby?”
He hid his face in his pillow before speaking, “I’m horny and youuuu are not helping…”
You rolled your eyes at your boyfriend’s attempt to fault you for his frustration, “I wouldn’t be much help to you anyways given the distance…”
He abruptly lifted his head from the pillow to flash you a dumbfounded look, “Babe… why’re you acting like e-sex doesn’t exist?”
“Because it’s literally 3 am and I trust that you can be patient til I can see you properly,” you clarified, adding yet another “tomorrow” at the end of your sentence.
And all Sunghoon could bring himself to do at this point was pout, hiding his face in the pillow once again which made you giggle at his sulking.
“Babyyyy…. C’monnn, you can wait for me, can’t you?” You asked in a sickeningly sweet tone, tilting your head at him in a cooing manner.
“I’m literally two seconds from slapping my dick against the screen because of your face right now,” he confessed shamelessly, making you burst into a fit of laughter.
“You’re so out of pocket for saying that,” you giggle, covering your face slightly to hide how flustered you appeared.
“You didn’t let me finish,” he said, a giggle still present in your throat as you tried regathering your emotions.
“Continue, continue…” you whisper with a warm smile on your face now, looking like a split image of the crying emoji in this moment.
“Thank you,” he scoffed with feigned offense, “but yes… I can wait til tomorrow… just for you, angel…”
tysm for reading this quick lil fic ✗⚬メ𝟶 a/n ℓօⓥe always ⋆⋆⋆
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