#apartment and I’m just left sitting here like how. how is that fucking fair how does that make fucking sense I have to trust that she doesnt

[lesbiansanemi]

Currently trying not to vomit over the fact that I essentially just lost almost a thousand dollars brb

[ireverie]

girls goon too

pairing ↠ stepbro!sunghoon x (f) reader x stepbro!heeseung

genre .. warnings ↠ smut, stepcest, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving) / face fucking, virgin! reader, dubcon

summary ↠ sunghoon can't take it anymore. you just won't stop gooning in your bedroom for all the world to hear, and he's tired of it. he's pretty sure all you do with your spare time is watch porn. heeseung suggests that he just jerks off, but his morals won't let him; until he decides that he can't hold back anymore. he has to shut you up.

wc ↠ 5.3k

a/n ↠ nohyuck version of this fic originally posted on my blog revehae. i am not plagiarizing myself. this is my apology for missing my friday night drabble post. as always, feedback is appreciated!

don’t like it, don’t read.

“she’s doing it again,” sunghoon grumbled, walking into heeseung’s bedroom. only because the door was ajar, though. he knew the sight he’d walk in on if it was completely closed would be worse than what you were surely doing.

heeseung snickered, eyes fixed on his computer. “what’s the occasion? sixth-month gooning anniversary?”

sunghoon scoffed. he didn’t know why you did it. he thought jake was bad, but you were next level. “i thought surely she would give us a break for november.”

“and she did,” heeseung quipped, moving his mouse. “for all of three days.”

that was true. for the very first three days of november, the house had been relatively quiet apart from heeseung’s shouting when he was losing. then, on the fourth day, it was back to hearing your annoyingly perfect fucking moans in the afternoon.

and god forbid your parents would be coming home late. you were relentless on those days, touching yourself to no end. sunghoon couldn’t stand it. he hated minding his business, trying to rest or work or do anything that didn’t require thinking about the sounds you were making as you persistently edged yourself.

but he couldn’t help himself. sometimes, he could hear your moans even when you weren’t there, and that was when he knew he was finally losing what little bit was left of his goddamn mind. 

heeseung, on the other hand, didn’t seem as miffed. sunghoon was certain his brother could hear the noises you were making down the hall, but he was sitting here without a care in the world, typing an email to his professor of all things. which made no sense to sunghoon, considering he knew how much heeseung liked noisy sex.

“okay, i’ll bite,” sunghoon said, crossing his arms. “how in the hell are you okay with this?”

heeseung shrugged, trying and failing to suppress a smirk. he was well aware of the fact that sunghoon always got worked up when it came to you, which was fair. you were the biggest minx this world had ever known. “well, first of all,” heeseung started, snickering again. “there’s a thing called jerking off. i’m sure you’ve heard of it. it’s really popular amongst guys we know.”

sunghoon looked almost scandalized. “i’m not jerking off to my stepsister.”

“then, you’re an idiot,” heeseung retorted. “she’s given us enough material until new years. of the year after next.”

“it’s wrong.”

heeseung rolled his eyes. “you’ve got such a stick up your ass, like a proper princess or something.”

“i’ll beat your ass, hee,” sunghoon warned. 

heeseung threw his hands up. “i’m just saying. i’m not telling you to stick her in a washing machine, bro. but the answer’s obvious. just jerk off. you know you want to.”

sunghoon sighed. had he thought about it? obviously. but he couldn’t shake how wrong it felt, even if you made him perpetually horny. “i want to smack the shit out of you right now, but i haven’t done it yet.”

rather than recoil, heeseung laughed. that asswipe finds humor in everything, sunghoon thought to himself, irritated. “and i commend your patience, man,” heeseung replied. “but it’s only making you more frustrated when you could just bust a nut and be happy.”

sunghoon was thinking about it now. well, he had thought about it countless times, but he had never allowed himself to stoop that low. you were his younger stepsister and it was his responsibility to take care of you. not picture your face as you moaned and imagine how you would feel, tight and sticky and creamy as you wrapped around his…

heeseung broke the silence, musing more so to himself, “maybe we should put her in the washing machine.”

sunghoon’s eyes flickered. “what the hell, man?”

“my bad,” heeseung replied, although he didn’t look very apologetic. “i was just thinking out loud.”

fuck, now sunghoon was picturing that too. your house had one of those washing machines that opened from the top, not the front. too many times had sunghoon seen you struggle to take your clothes out, dangling over the washing machine and nearly falling inside. he would offer to help, every now and then, but he liked watching you climb the washing machine just to get your clothes from the very bottom.

it was much more realistic for you to get stuck in it then the kinds of washing machines in porn. 

heeseung broke the silence again, still thinking. it was his greatest skill and simultaneously his worst habit. “if you’re so against it, why haven’t you just asked her to shut the fuck up then?”

that was a good question. sunghoon wasn’t the kind of guy to shy away from an altercation, not with friends and not with family. he had certainly never shown heeseung any mercy. he loved his brother, but he was annoying as all fuck.

“i see,” heeseung said, smirking. see, annoying. “it’s because you don’t really want her to stop.”

sunghoon sighed. “yeah, fine. i don’t want her to stop. happy?”

heeseung burst out laughing. always laughing, always scheming. he was going to get a stocking full of coal for christmas. “i have an idea.”

“oh, god,” sunghoon groaned.

heeseung finally pressed send on his email and turned around in his desk chair. “hear me out. we should fuck her.”

sunghoon gawked in disbelief. then again, none of heeseung’s ideas were ever truly brilliant. “you’re insane,” he murmured.

“thanks,” heeseung chirped, the insult rolling off his shoulders. “just sleep on it.”

“you know what? sure,” sunghoon replied, walking out of his brother’s room and shutting the door. he didn’t want to hear another word.

he went about his day like everything was normal, going on a walk so that he didn’t have to hear you, eating dinner and watching netflix in the living room to ignore the fact that you existed altogether. and then he went to bed.

sunghoon couldn’t fucking sleep. on it, over it, under it. he couldn’t sleep whatsoever. 

it wasn’t like you were just loudly moaning all day long, that would be absurd. but every now and then, there would be a whimper you’d let slip. sunghoon could tell that you were actually trying to be quiet. but this was one of those nights where your parents wouldn’t be back and you were taking advantage of that. again.

sunghoon decided that he was at his breaking point. the need for you was too goddamn strong and he was tired of pretending that he was better. he couldn’t ignore it anymore. he couldn’t fight it, suppress it.

he threw the blankets off his bed and went to heeseung’s room, the door closed this time. he knocked on the door and called out, “stop jerking off and get your ass out here.”

sunghoon heard a groan, one of the disgruntled sort. a few seconds later, heeseung opened the door, a scowl on his face. “what the hell, man? your voice ruined my nut.”

it was sunghoon’s turn to laugh. he clasped a hand on heeseung’s shoulder. “don’t worry. you’ll be in the mood again in no time.”

heeseung lifted a brow. “are you saying what i think you’re saying?”

sunghoon nodded. 

“we’re gonna teach her a lesson.”

“we’re gonna put her in the washing machine?”

sunghoon’s smile instantly dropped and his hand fell from heeseung’s shoulder. “why the fuck are you both so addicted to porn?” he asked.

the excited shimmer in heeseung’s eyes died a little. “no, i was… i was just kidding. let’s go.”

sunghoon sighed and started down the hall to your bedroom, deciding not to argue heeseung on that. it would be a waste of valuable time.

sunghoon knocked on the door and called out your name. “can we come in?”

there was audible shuffling as you called back, “just a moment!”

heeseung glanced over at sunghoon. “so, how we doing this?”

sunghoon looked calm, collected. as if fucking his stepsister was something he did on the regular. “just follow my lead.”

you opened the door, a towel thrown around you. but your skin looked damp with sweat, not water. your face was a little flushed. it was obvious that you were naked. “um, can i help you guys?” you asked, somewhat breathless. 

sunghoon looked you up and down subtly. heeseung, on the other hand, was damn near ogling you. the former repeated, “can we come in?”

“um, i guess,” you murmured, stepping out of the way so that they could enter your bedroom.

heeseung closed the door behind himself, not that there was anyone to worry about. it was only the three of you in the house at the moment. 

sunghoon glanced away, looking for traces of what you had been doing. he found them very quickly; your laptop shut on your bed, the blankets messily thrown on top to conceal the damp spots in your sheets, and your shirt and shorts on the floor by your bed, implying you were only in your underwear.

“is there something you guys need?” you asked, a bit annoyed at having been interrupted. 

sunghoon walked towards your desk where your laptop probably should have been, though he saw something fearful flash in your eyes. his brows furrowed, but he didn’t inquire about it. he would figure it out on his own. “do we have to need something to want to visit you?” sunghoon asked, a small smile on his face. “i haven’t seen you all day long. we just wanted to make sure you’re still alive.”

“oh, that’s… very sweet of you,” you murmured. “as you can see, i’m perfectly alive and breathing.”

“yeah, you’re breathing a lot,” heeseung commented. 

sunghoon chuckled. he moved away from your desk and instead towards your nightstand, noticing your eyes still watching him like a hawk. “relax. what’s got you so worked up?”

“i’m not worked up,” you lied, eyes darting between him and your bed. 

that was when it clicked in sunghoon’s brain. the bed. you didn’t want him to see the bed. he chuckled again, sitting down on top of it. “are you okay? you look a little… flushed.”

“yeah,” heeseung chimed in, moving your hair out of your face. you jolted. you had been paying so much attention to sunghoon that you failed to notice heeseung had creeped up behind you. “and sweaty.”

you released a shaky breath. you were nervous, but you couldn’t tell them that. because then they would start asking questions. “i’m okay, guys. you can go.”

“why are you trying to get rid of us?” heeseung asked, leaning in a little too close. “it’s almost like you’re hiding something.”

“what are you watching?” sunghoon asked, grabbing your laptop. 

your eyes widened in horror. “no, wait!” you exclaimed. you tried to stop him, but heeseung was quick to pull you back against his chest. 

sunghoon opened your laptop, being met with a twitter porn browser. he feigned surprise. “oh, wow,” he said, merely blinking. “wow.”

“what is it?” heeseung called from the other side of the room. 

sunghoon turned the laptop to face you and heeseung. “guess she’s really into… creampies, sucking dick, and doggy style.”

your face was hot with embarrassment and you thrashed in heeseung’s arms. “this is an invasion of privacy! you guys jerk off, don’t you?”

“jerk off? sure. watch porn for hours on end? no, i don’t,” sunghoon answered, setting your laptop down. he moved your blankets out of the way, revealing a few damp spots on your bed. “how long did you have to sit here for this to happen?”

you felt very exposed at the moment. like your deepest, darkest secret was steadily reaching its way around the whole world. “i’m not that bad,” you murmured, shy. 

heeseung laughed. he tugged at the towel and brought his hand to your chest, pinching your nipple. “not that bad? you almost gave poor sunghoon over there an aneurysm with how enticing you’ve been.”

your whined when heeseung squeezed your chest, tearing your gaze away from sunghoon to look up at him with wide eyes. “what are you doing?”

“fuck. yeah, that’s what i’m talking about, princess,” heeseung groaned, pressing himself against your ass. “those sweet sounds have been driving him mad.”

any other moment, sunghoon would have narrowed his eyes at heeseung and called him disgusting. but this was different. sunghoon didn’t care about what was right or wrong anymore. maybe he never truly had. what was certain right now was that any desire to behave in a morally acceptable manner was outweighed by the desire to fuck you brainless.

“bring her over here,” sunghoon said, shoving your laptop of the way to make room. 

heeseung grabbed your waist and led you towards the bed, pushing you towards his brother. sunghoon grabbed your chin, smoothing his thumb over your cheek. “gooning isn’t healthy,” he told you straightforwardly. “you know what you need?”

you glanced at him, fretful. the towel had completely fallen at this point, leaving you solely in your water, just as sunghoon had pieced together. “what?” you whispered.

“a fuck,” sunghoon replied unabashedly. “you’re so damn touch-starved. always complaining about how you want a boyfriend, but you never go out, because you’re too busy playing with your clit.”

your face was hot. honestly, they hadn’t given you the opportunity to cool down. but you had to admit that he was right. compared to how much you touched yourself, you didn’t go out enough.

“have you ever even had sex?” heeseung asked, running his hands up your thighs. 

you wanted to hide so fucking bad, but that clearly wasn’t an option. “no,” you replied, ashamed.

sunghoon snickered, because apparently that was funny. “obviously,” he said, moving his thumb to your bottom lip. “this pretty body has gone untouched for too many years, that’s all. once you get fucked, you’ll be as good as new. worked for jake. didn’t it, hee?”

“yep,” heeseung chirped, nodding. “he was the biggest gooner i’ve ever seen. jay had so many roommate horror stories. then, we got him some pussy, and he’s all better now. actually goes outside and gets light that isn’t from his laptop.”

“so, what do you say?” sunghoon asked, turning your head back to him. “want something other than your fingers inside you?”

your heart racing. were you really about to agree to getting fucked by your stepbrothers? when it was over, you could blame it on the fact that you genuinely were touch-starved and desperate for a release for all this pent-up frustration.

and because you really, really needed to come after having avoided it for hours, you nodded your head.

“words, princess,” heeseung said, his hands still gripping your thighs as he thought about how soft they were. “say it. say, ‘i want you to fuck me, heeseung.’”

you swallowed, but you weren’t going to disobey. “i… i want you to fuck me, heeseung.”

“jeez, you don’t have to beg. i’ll do it,” heeseung replied, playful as ever. “and because it’s your first time, i think we should do missionary. is that okay, princess?”

“that’s… fine,” you murmured timidly. it didn’t really matter to you how he fucked you. you just wanted someone inside you. 

heeseung was beaming, like he had prayed for this day and it was finally happening. “good. and if you ever want me to fuck you on all fours, you know the way to my room.”

the way heeseung was looking at you was entirely overwhelming, so you glanced over at sunghoon instead, though he was also watching you intently. “what about… you?” you asked. 

sunghoon chuckled, thumb sweeping over your lips. “i don’t need to fuck your pussy. i’ll leave that to heeseung. i just want to fuck this pretty little mouth that’s been keeping me up at night.”

heeseung, growing impatient, tugged at your panties. you lifted your hips, watching him drag them down your legs. “jesus,” he murmured. “they’re fucking drenched.”

“they better be,” sunghoon replied with a chuckle, stepping out of his pants. “long as she’s probably been wearing them.”

heeseung spread your legs, wanting to get a good look at the treasure hidden between them. he moaned at the mere sight of your pussy, dripping with arousal. “fuck, you don’t even need prep,” he mused.

as if you couldn’t get any more embarrassed than you already were. they knew exactly what to say to make you want to hide your face beneath a pillow and hopefully suffocate to death.

despite his declaration about you not needing prep, heeseung couldn’t help but drag his tongue along your folds, which made you gasp in surprise. it wasn’t a tentative lick, either; he was confident and unreluctant. you were clearly sensitive, but he didn’t seem to care, eager to suck and lick at you.

“heeseung,” you whimpered, involuntarily trying to close your legs. he swore his dick twitched when you said his name like that. 

all the while, sunghoon was stroking himself beside you, half hard. for the first time thinking about you at the same time that he touched his dick, and god, he really should have done it sooner. just the thought of you made his blood pump harder. 

heeseung pulled back after a moment or two when he was finally sated. “sorry,” he apologized, completely inauthentic. “just wanted a taste.”

sunghoon tapped your cheek. “open up, baby.”

you slowly opened your mouth, wide enough for him to push inside. which sunghoon seized the opportunity to do as soon as it presented itself. he was impatient now, tired of waiting. you had tortured him long enough with those pretty noises; it was time you paid him back for tolerating your horniness.

“fuck,” sunghoon cursed upon feeling the warmth of your mouth around his cock.

heeseung snickered. it was amusing to him that only a few hours ago, sunghoon said he was insane for suggesting that they fuck you. and now here he was with his cock down your throat. a few hours could truly change a man, for worse and for better. “how’s it going?” heeseung asked.

sunghoon closed his eyes, trying to go slow before he started fucking your throat with a purpose. he didn’t necessarily want to hurt you, but damn, he was getting pretty damn close. “how do you think?” he retorted.

you watched sunghoon as he slowly moved inside your mouth, though his patience was obviously dwindling by the second. part of you wanted to see what it would look like when he lost it all, but the other dreaded it, uncertain whether or not you could handle it.

you were still a virgin, after all. in the important and unimportant ways. you had never been fucked. you had most certainly never had your throat fucked until this very moment. the furthest you’d ever gone with a boy was a little bit of groping while kissing and even that was awkward.

heeseung licked his lips, appreciating that they were coated in your arousal. “taste so good, princess,” he said, dropping his hands down to his shorts.

you would have gawked when you glanced down and noticed the dent in them, even if it weren’t for the fact that your mouth was preoccupied. when did he get so hard? 

heeseung started to undress himself, pleased now that he had gotten a taste of you and eager to be inside you. he was quick to shed his shorts and the layer underneath, unafraid to show just how desperate he was. for him, it was easy to accept his attraction to you and even easier to act on it now that he had your consent.

he climbed onto the bed, grabbing your thighs again and spreading them apart. he gave them a few affectionate, departing kisses and sat up to grab his cock, bringing it between them. “say ���goofer gooner’ if you’re ready,” heeseung joked, knowing you couldn’t speak.

you furrowed your brows, but you couldn’t even focus on his nonsense because sunghoon was noticeably forgoing all restraint. could you blame him? your mouth was warm, alive, and everything about you seemed to drive him straight through the brink of insanity. 

“you know, sunghoon,” heeseung started, gazing down at the little distance between your bodies. “you were right. i’m already in the mood again.”

you had that effect on him, on them. heeseung knew he probably should have fought it better, but he truly saw no point. it was easier to fold and surrender to the fact that he found you infuriatingly sexy, despite your tendencies. and with nothing more to say, he slowly but surely pressed himself inside you.

heeseung tipped his head back, already moaning like a bitch and he wasn’t even fully sheathed inside you yet. “holy fuck,” he said, his grip on your thighs tightening.

you whimpered, the sound muffled by sunghoon’s cock as his balls slapped against your chin. you immediately pulsed around heeseung’s cock, clinging to him like now that he was there, you would never let him go.

“holy fuck,” heeseung moaned again, stopping for a moment as if the breath had been completely sucked out of him. “so fucking wet, my dick just slides in.”

he was damn near flabbergasted. maybe there was benefit to you gooning for hours on end, a benefit that he got to reap. he had never seen anyone this wet before, much less felt anything this wet, and it was taking a toll on him. his head was already reeling.

“okay,” heeseung said, more so to himself. he was adjusting. “okay. fuck. i’m gonna move.”

and he did, growing more and more mesmerized with every thrust of his hips. his mouth hung open, moans of your name and explicit curses dangling from his lips with a shrill touch to them that only made you even more aroused.

to say nothing of the sounds sunghoon was making, almost directly in your ear. he was so close to your face that you could explode. he was finally moving comfortably, fucking your throat with a rhythm that almost made it hard to breathe. 

though you had no intention of making him stop. you had fantasized about making yourself available for this purpose many, many times. not necessarily to your stepbrother, but well, it wasn’t like you were discriminating. especially not when he sounded so goddamn sexy and his face was tensing the way it was in pleasure.

it was strange, but you found yourself going from solely craving the experience to wanting to pleasure them. and it would appear that you were doing a fantastic job without hardly even trying, all things considered.

heeseung was gripping on your thighs for dear life as if without the support, he would get blown away into the eighth dimension. or maybe drown in how wet you were, gushing around his cock, if not for him using your soft thighs as an anchor to keep him afloat.

“this sweet fucking pussy,” he sighed, losing himself in the vice of you. he had set a pace too, fucking you without intention of stopping. with every fiber of his being, deep and hard. “i could fuck you forever.”

you could sit here and take it forever. you had never felt so full in your life. your fingers hardly did the job, always reaching just shy of where you needed them instead of completely offering you the satisfaction you’d long craved. and here heeseung was handing it to you on a silver platter.

the only problem was that you felt slightly overwhelmed with so much happening at one time in two different holes. you didn’t know who to pay attention to; sunghoon fucking your throat with a vengeance, eager to gain something out of your mouth for once, or heeseung railing you to kingdom come, making you feel hot everywhere.

you found yourself trying to juggle both, eyes flitting between them, moaning around sunghoon’s dick at heeseung’s angled thrusts and throbbing around heeseung at every guttural groan that slipped from sunghoon’s mouth. you couldn’t help yourself; it was too goddamn arousing.

sunghoon noticed how fucked out you looked, eyes rolling back to another timeline, and it was doing unimaginable things to his cock. you looked better than he could have ever imagined and he knew that he wouldn’t be satisfied until he left you hoarse and rasping.

with that thought, he grabbed your hair to push you down and started to fuck your head against the mattress rather roughly, which caught you by surprise. you tried to take it, you really did, but it was overwhelming. you could barely breathe.

“take it,” he hissed, holding your head in place. you looked pretty like this, struggling to keep up with his hectic movements.

your eyes were watering as his cock went too deep for you to handle, and you started gagging. sunghoon moaned, but pulled your head off him to let you relax for a second, a string of saliva connecting your mouth and the head of his cock.

“breathe,” he said, letting one hand run through your hair almost tenderly.

you nodded, willing yourself to relax. all the while, sunghoon marveled at how pretty you looked with saliva on your face and tears strolling down your cheeks.

“you guys okay up there?” heeseung asked from between your legs, having noticed the action. 

“we’re fine,” sunghoon answered on your behalf. he moved his hand from your hair to your cheek. “you ready?”

you nodded your head. you couldn’t shake the urge to really make him proud, to satisfy all his inappropriate cravings. it was the least you could do when you had been tantalizing him for months on end.

“good girl,” sunghoon whispered, guiding his cock back to your mouth and this time using your hair to push your head onto his cock as he fucked your throat.

you moaned at the pet name, because something about the way it sounded coming from him made your head spin. maybe you were just horny and in dire need of a fuck like he’d said. maybe after you came, all of these feelings would wear off, and you would feel somewhat sane again. 

but you couldn’t deny that you were somewhat indulging in your fantasies here. you didn’t necessarily hate the the way sunghoon was treating you, even if it was a little beyond your limits and more than a little rough. but limits were just boundaries you’d yet explored.

heeseung was a different situation altogether. your pussy was still sensitive from the hours of playing with it and you were already about to come much before him. there was a familiar heat in your stomach and festering throb of energy in your core, only more intense than you had ever experienced.

but heeseung recognized it, even without being able to hear your sweet moans of his name. he could see it in your body language and it flattered him in a way; he always felt proud when he lasted longer than the person he was fucking, especially without necessarily even trying to finish them quicker.

“she’s gonna come,” heeseung pointed out, grinning. “come for me, princess. come on this dick. you know you want to.”

it was like he your voodoo doll or something, because merely seconds after those words parted from his mouth, you were shuddering and tightening around his cock with climax, your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your toes clenching.

heeseung let out the pitchiest moan ever when you throbbed around him repeatedly. words could not describe how good it felt, but sounds could. and the sounds he was making were sensational, only contributing to the mind-numbing pleasure wrecking you from within.

“goddamn,” heeseung said, mesmerized by how hard you came. it was probably warranted after hours of resisting.

but the other thing on heeseung’s mind was how much wetter your pussy sounded, sticky with your release. he whined, literally going mad. he knew that his own orgasm wasn’t far out and just the squelch of your cunt could easily finish him off.

sunghoon was facing a similar predicament, fucking your mouth without restraint and not letting you escape his thrusts. “fuck, i’m gonna come,” he groaned. “swallow it. or don’t. it’s your sheets.”

the last thing you of all people cared about was having your sheets ruined. at the moment, you were more burdened with how sore your throat felt and how overstimulated your pussy was being fucked despite having already orgasmed. it literally felt like you’d had the soul fucked out of you.

you didn’t even know it was possible at this point, but sunghoon’s hips went faster. it was a brutal but steady pace, which was somewhat admirable. he was trying to get himself there, right over the edge, knowing release was only seconds away.

with a few more smacks, sunghoon released down your throat with the sexiest groan you’d heard, one that claimed every award. when you’d milked him of every drop, his hands tight on the sides of your face, his grip on your head slacked and he slowly pulled your mouth off him.

you swallowed what you could, but he had came so goddamn much at once, it was borderline ridiculous. what you couldn’t take dripped down your chin, blending with the saliva from the messy fucking.

heeseung glanced up at you and the sight of your cum-stained face triggered something so primal in him that he knew he wasn’t going to last another minute. “princess, where do you want me to come?” he asked breathlessly.

“inside,” you replied with maybe half your voice, if even. it hurt to speak. the sound pleased sunghoon.

the thought of coming inside your pussy had heeseung levitating and was the last push he needed to bring himself past the cusp of ecstasy. his hips stuttered as he came inside you, crying out half of your name, leaning on top of you as he buried his load inside your warm, wet, gushing, sticky hole.

a satisfied hum escaped you when you felt his cum seeping inside your pussy. why did it feel so good?

“d-don’t move yet,” you whispered, because it was all you could muster.

heeseung glanced up at you, recognizing the look of pleasure on your face. if he had the energy, he would tease you about how you wanted to feel him cum inside you, but he needed to catch his breath. so he answered with a nod.

sunghoon whistled. this had gone better than he’d hoped. “well goddamn. you’re just a virgin slut aren’t you?”

heeseung chuckled breathlessly. “she took that shit like a champ. i’m impressed.”

sunghoon kissed your forehead. “you did so good,” he whispered, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “i’ll get you some water in a second.”

you nodded, appreciating the tender side after all that had just happened. your heart felt a little lighter than usual, despite its racing. you had so many questions, but you didn’t want to strain your voice. was it normal to feel like a different person after having sex for the first time?

heeseung was going to pull out, but seeing the look on your face, he decided to stay nestled inside you for a little longer. “you okay?”

you bobbed your head. “i’m good.”

heeseung snickered and teased, “whoa there, batman. what have you done with my sister?”

you rolled your eyes, but giggled. sunghoon joined in on the laughter, but he added, “don’t speak. you’ll make it worse.”

heeseung sighed contentedly. knowing that you wouldn’t say anything in response, he decided to tease, “our little gooner.”

you glared at heeseung wordlessly, conveying a lot of different things with your eyes. 

sunghoon translated playfully, “i think that means ‘fuck you.’”

“again?” heeseung joked. “what can i expect from a gooner. but hey, i guess girls can goon too.”

[revehae]

girls goon too

pairing ↠ jeno x (f) reader x haechan

genre .. warnings ↠ smut, stepcest, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving) / face fucking, virgin!reader, dubcon

summary ↠ jeno can’t take it anymore. you just won’t stop gooning in your bedroom for all the world to hear, and he’s tired of it. he’s pretty sure all you do with your spare time is watch porn. haechan suggests that he just jerks off, but his morals won’t let him; until he decides that he can’t hold back anymore. he has to shut you up.

wc ↠ 5.3k

a/n ↠ um… i know i said No to Nohyuck but i saw these pics of jeno and started hearing The Voices. i hope you guys appreciate me losing sleep over this. as always, feedback is appreciated!

don’t like it, don’t read.

“she’s doing it again,” jeno grumbled, walking into haechan’s bedroom. only because the door was ajar, though. he knew the sight he’d walk in on if it was completely closed would be worse than what you were surely doing.

haechan snickered, eyes fixed on his computer. “what’s the occasion? sixth-month gooning anniversary?”

jeno scoffed. he didn’t know why you did it. he thought jisung was bad, but you were next level. “i thought surely she would give us a break for november.”

“and she did,” haechan quipped, moving his mouse. “for all of three days.”

that was true. for the very first three days of november, the house had been relatively quiet apart from haechan’s shouting when he was losing. then, on the fourth day, it was back to hearing your annoyingly perfect fucking moans in the afternoon.

and god forbid your parents would be coming home late. you were relentless on those days, touching yourself to no end. jeno couldn’t stand it. he hated minding his business, trying to rest or work or do anything that didn’t require thinking about the sounds you were making as you persistently edged yourself.

but he couldn’t help himself. sometimes, he could hear your moans even when you weren’t there, and that was when he knew he was finally losing what little bit was left of his goddamn mind. 

haechan, on the other hand, didn’t seem as miffed. jeno was certain his brother could hear the noises you were making down the hall, but he was sitting here without a care in the world, typing an email to his professor of all things. which made no sense to jeno, considering he knew how much haechan liked noisy sex.

“okay, i’ll bite,” jeno said, crossing his arms. “how in the hell are you okay with this?”

haechan shrugged, trying and failing to suppress a smirk. he was well aware of the fact that jeno always got worked up when it came to you, which was fair. you were the biggest minx this world had ever known. “well, first of all,” haechan started, snickering again. “there’s a thing called jerking off. i’m sure you’ve heard of it. it’s really popular amongst guys we know.”

jeno looked almost scandalized. “i’m not jerking off to my stepsister.”

“then, you’re an idiot,” haechan retorted. “she’s given us enough material until new years. of the year after next.”

“it’s wrong.”

haechan rolled his eyes. “you’ve got such a stick up your ass, like a proper princess or something.”

“i’ll beat your ass, hyuck,” jeno warned. 

haechan threw his hands up. “i’m just saying. i’m not telling you to stick her in a washing machine, bro. but the answer’s obvious. just jerk off. you know you want to.”

jeno sighed. had he thought about it? obviously. but he couldn’t shake how wrong it felt, even if you made him perpetually horny. “i want to smack the shit out of you right now, but i haven’t done it yet.”

rather than recoil, haechan laughed. that asswipe finds humor in everything, jeno thought to himself, irritated. “and i commend your patience, man,” haechan replied. “but it’s only making you more frustrated when you could just bust a nut and be happy.”

jeno was thinking about it now. well, he had thought about it countless times, but he had never allowed himself to stoop that low. you were his younger stepsister and it was his responsibility to take care of you. not picture your face as you moaned and imagine how you would feel, tight and sticky and creamy as you wrapped around his…

haechan broke the silence, musing more so to himself, “maybe we should put her in the washing machine.”

jeno’s eyes flickered. “what the hell, man?”

“my bad,” haechan replied, although he didn’t look very apologetic. “i was just thinking out loud.”

fuck, now jeno was picturing that too. your house had one of those washing machines that opened from the top, not the front. too many times had jeno seen you struggle to take your clothes out, dangling over the washing machine and nearly falling inside. he would offer to help, every now and then, but he liked watching you climb the washing machine just to get your clothes from the very bottom.

it was much more realistic for you to get stuck in that than the kinds of washing machines in porn. 

haechan broke the silence again, still thinking. it was his greatest skill and simultaneously his worst habit. “if you’re so against it, why haven’t you just asked her to shut the fuck up then?”

that was a good question. jeno wasn’t the kind of guy to shy away from an altercation, not with friends and not with family. he had certainly never shown haechan any mercy. he loved his brother, but he was annoying as all fuck.

“i see,” haechan said, smirking. see, annoying. “it’s because you don’t really want her to stop.”

jeno sighed. “yeah, fine. i don’t want her to stop. happy?”

haechan burst out laughing. always laughing, always scheming. he was going to get a stocking full of coal for christmas. “i have an idea.”

“oh, god,” jeno groaned.

haechan finally pressed send on his email and turned around in his desk chair. “hear me out. we should fuck her.”

jeno gawked in disbelief. then again, none of haechan’s ideas were ever truly brilliant. “you’re insane,” he murmured.

“thanks,” haechan chirped, the insult rolling off his shoulders. “just sleep on it.”

“you know what? sure,” jeno replied, walking out of his brother’s room and shutting the door. he didn’t want to hear another word.

he went about his day like everything was normal, going on a walk so that he didn’t have to hear you, eating dinner and watching netflix in the living room to ignore the fact that you existed altogether. and then he went to bed.

jeno couldn’t fucking sleep. on it, over it, under it. he couldn’t sleep whatsoever. 

it wasn’t like you were just loudly moaning all day long, that would be absurd. but every now and then, there would be a whimper you’d let slip. jeno could tell that you were actually trying to be quiet. but this was one of those nights where your parents wouldn’t be back and you were taking advantage of that. again.

jeno decided that he was at his breaking point. the need for you was too goddamn strong and he was tired of pretending that he was better. he couldn’t ignore it anymore. he couldn’t fight it, suppress it.

he threw the blankets off his bed and went to haechan’s room, the door closed this time. he knocked on the door and called out, “stop jerking off and get your ass out here.”

jeno heard a groan, one of the disgruntled sort. a few seconds later, haechan opened the door, a scowl on his face. “what the hell, man? your voice ruined my nut.”

it was jeno’s turn to laugh. he clasped a hand on haechan’s shoulder. “don’t worry. you’ll be in the mood again in no time.”

haechan lifted a brow. “are you saying what i think you’re saying?”

jeno nodded. 

“we’re gonna teach her a lesson.”

“we’re gonna put her in the washing machine?”

jeno’s smile instantly dropped and his hand fell from haechan’s shoulder. “why the fuck are you both so addicted to porn?” he asked.

the excited shimmer in haechan’s eyes died a little. “no, i was… i was just kidding. let’s go.”

jeno sighed and started down the hall to your bedroom, deciding not to argue haechan on that. it would be a waste of valuable time.

jeno knocked on the door and called out your name. “can we come in?”

there was audible shuffling as you called back, “just a moment!”

haechan glanced over at jeno. “so, how we doing this?”

jeno looked calm, collected. as if fucking his stepsister was something he did on the regular. “just follow my lead.”

you opened the door, a towel thrown around you. but your skin looked damp with sweat, not water. your face was a little flushed. it was obvious that you were naked. “um, can i help you guys?” you asked, somewhat breathless. 

jeno looked you up and down subtly. haechan, on the other hand, was damn near ogling you. the former repeated, “can we come in?”

“um, i guess,” you murmured, stepping out of the way so that they could enter your bedroom.

haechan closed the door behind himself, not that there was anyone to worry about. it was only the three of you in the house at the moment. 

jeno glanced away, looking for traces of what you had been doing. he found them very quickly; your laptop shut on your bed, the blankets messily thrown on top to conceal the damp spots in your sheets, and your shirt and shorts on the floor by your bed, implying you were only in your underwear.

“is there something you guys need?” you asked, a bit annoyed at having been interrupted. 

jeno walked towards your desk where your laptop probably should have been, though he saw something fearful flash in your eyes. his brows furrowed, but he didn’t inquire about it. he would figure it out on his own. “do we have to need something to want to visit you?” jeno asked, a small smile on his face. “i haven’t seen you all day long. we just wanted to make sure you’re still alive.”

“oh, that’s… very sweet of you,” you murmured. “as you can see, i’m perfectly alive and breathing.”

“yeah, you’re breathing a lot,” haechan commented. 

jeno chuckled. he moved away from your desk and instead towards your nightstand, noticing your eyes still watching him like a hawk. “relax. what’s got you so worked up?”

“i’m not worked up,” you lied, eyes darting between him and your bed. 

that was when it clicked in jeno’s brain. the bed. you didn’t want him to see the bed. he chuckled again, sitting down on top of it. “are you okay? you look a little… flushed.”

“yeah,” haechan chimed in, moving your hair out of your face. you jolted. you had been paying so much attention to jeno that you failed to notice haechan had creeped up behind you. “and sweaty.”

you released a shaky breath. you were nervous, but you couldn’t tell them that. because then they would start asking questions. “i’m okay, guys. you can go.”

“why are you trying to get rid of us?” haechan asked, leaning in a little too close. “it’s almost like you’re hiding something.”

“what are you watching?” jeno asked, grabbing your laptop. 

your eyes widened in horror. “no, wait!” you exclaimed. you tried to stop him, but haechan was quick to pull you back against his chest. 

jeno opened your laptop, being met with a twitter porn browser. he feigned surprise. “oh, wow,” he said, merely blinking. “wow.”

“what is it?” haechan called from the other side of the room. 

jeno turned the laptop to face you and haechan. “guess she’s really into… creampies, sucking dick, and doggy style.”

your face was hot with embarrassment and you thrashed in haechan’s arms. “this is an invasion of privacy! you guys jerk off, don’t you?”

“jerk off? sure. watch porn for hours on end? no, i don’t,” jeno answered, setting your laptop down. he moved your blankets out of the way, revealing a few damp spots on your bed. “how long did you have to sit here for this to happen?”

you felt very exposed at the moment. like your deepest, darkest secret was steadily reaching its way around the whole world. “i’m not that bad,” you murmured, shy. 

haechan laughed. he tugged at the towel and brought his hand to your chest, pinching your nipple. “not that bad? you almost gave poor jeno over there an aneurysm with how enticing you’ve been.”

your whined when haechan squeezed your chest, tearing your gaze away from jeno to look up at him with wide eyes. “what are you doing?”

“fuck. yeah, that’s what i’m talking about, princess,” haechan groaned, pressing himself against your ass. “those sweet sounds have been driving him mad.”

any other moment, jeno would have narrowed his eyes at haechan and called him disgusting. but this was different. jeno didn’t care about what was right or wrong anymore. maybe he never truly had. what was certain right now was that any desire to behave in a morally acceptable manner was outweighed by the desire to fuck you brainless.

“bring her over here,” jeno said, shoving your laptop of the way to make room. 

haechan grabbed your waist and led you towards the bed, pushing you towards his brother. jeno grabbed your chin, smoothing his thumb over your cheek. “gooning isn’t healthy,” he told you straightforwardly. “you know what you need?”

you glanced at him, fretful. the towel had completely fallen at this point, leaving you solely in your water, just as jeno had pieced together. “what?” you whispered.

“a fuck,” jeno replied unabashedly. “you’re so damn touch-starved. always complaining about how you want a boyfriend, but you never go out, because you’re too busy playing with your clit.”

your face was hot. honestly, they hadn’t given you the opportunity to cool down. but you had to admit that he was right. compared to how much you touched yourself, you didn’t go out enough.

“have you ever even had sex?” haechan asked, running his hands up your thighs. 

you wanted to hide so fucking bad, but that clearly wasn’t an option. “no,” you replied, ashamed.

jeno snickered, because apparently that was funny. “obviously,” he said, moving his thumb to your bottom lip. “this pretty body has gone untouched for too many years, that’s all. once you get fucked, you’ll be as good as new. worked for jisung. didn’t it, hyuck?”

“yep,” haechan chirped, nodding. “he was the biggest gooner i’ve ever seen. jaemin had so many roommate horror stories. then, we got him some pussy, and he’s all better now. actually goes outside and gets light that isn’t from his laptop.”

“so, what do you say?” jeno asked, turning your head back to him. “want something other than your fingers inside you?”

your heart racing. were you really about to agree to getting fucked by your stepbrothers? when it was over, you could blame it on the fact that you genuinely were touch-starved and desperate for a release for all this pent-up frustration.

and because you really, really needed to come after having avoided it for hours, you nodded your head.

“words, princess,” haechan said, his hands still gripping your thighs as he thought about how soft they were. “say it. say, ‘i want you to fuck me, haechan.’”

you swallowed, but you weren’t going to disobey. “i… i want you to fuck me, haechan.”

“jeez, you don’t have to beg. i’ll do it,” haechan replied, playful as ever. “and because it’s your first time, i think we should do missionary. is that okay, princess?”

“that’s… fine,” you murmured timidly. it didn’t really matter to you how he fucked you. you just wanted someone inside you. 

haechan was beaming, like he had prayed for this day and it was finally happening. “good. and if you ever want me to fuck you on all fours, you know the way to my room.”

the way haechan was looking at you was entirely overwhelming, so you glanced over at jeno instead, though he was also watching you intently. “what about… you?” you asked. 

jeno chuckled, thumb sweeping over your lips. “i don’t need to fuck your pussy. i’ll leave that to haechan. i just want to fuck this pretty little mouth that’s been keeping me up at night.”

haechan, growing impatient, tugged at your panties. you lifted your hips, watching him drag them down your legs. “jesus,” he murmured. “they’re fucking drenched.”

“they better be,” jeno replied with a chuckle, stepping out of his pants. “long as she’s probably been wearing them.”

haechan spread your legs, wanting to get a good look at the treasure hidden between them. he moaned at the mere sight of your pussy, dripping with arousal. “fuck, you don’t even need prep,” he mused.

as if you couldn’t get any more embarrassed than you already were. they knew exactly what to say to make you want to hide your face beneath a pillow and hopefully suffocate to death.

despite his declaration about you not needing prep, haechan couldn’t help but drag his tongue along your folds, which made you gasp in surprise. it wasn’t a tentative lick, either; he was confident and unreluctant. you were clearly sensitive, but he didn’t seem to care, eager to suck and lick at you.

“haechan,” you whimpered, involuntarily trying to close your legs. he swore his dick twitched when you said his name like that. 

all the while, jeno was stroking himself beside you, half hard. for the first time thinking about you at the same time that he touched his dick, and god, he really should have done it sooner. just the thought of you made his blood pump harder. 

haechan pulled back after a moment or two when he was finally sated. “sorry,” he apologized, completely inauthentic. “just wanted a taste.”

jeno tapped your cheek. “open up, baby.”

you slowly opened your mouth, wide enough for him to push inside. which jeno seized the opportunity to do as soon as it presented itself. he was impatient now, tired of waiting. you had tortured him long enough with those pretty noises; it was time you paid him back for tolerating your horniness.

“fuck,” jeno cursed upon feeling the warmth of your mouth around his cock.

haechan snickered. it was amusing to him that only a few hours ago, jeno said he was insane for suggesting that they fuck you. and now here he was with his cock down your throat. a few hours could truly change a man, for worse and for better. “how’s it going?” haechan asked.

jeno closed his eyes, trying to go slow before he started fucking your throat with a purpose. he didn’t necessarily want to hurt you, but damn, he was getting pretty damn close. “how do you think?” he retorted.

you watched jeno as he slowly moved inside your mouth, though his patience was obviously dwindling by the second. part of you wanted to see what it would look like when he lost it all, but the other dreaded it, uncertain whether or not you could handle it.

you were still a virgin, after all. in the important and unimportant ways. you had never been fucked. you had most certainly never had your throat fucked until this very moment. the furthest you’d ever gone with a boy was a little bit of groping while kissing and even that was awkward.

haechan licked his lips, appreciating that they were coated in your arousal. “taste so good, princess,” he said, dropping his hands down to his shorts.

you would have gawked when you glanced down and noticed the dent in them, even if it weren’t for the fact that your mouth was preoccupied. when did he get so hard? 

haechan started to undress himself, pleased now that he had gotten a taste of you and eager to be inside you. he was quick to shed his shorts and the layer underneath, unafraid to show just how desperate he was. for him, it was easy to accept his attraction to you and even easier to act on it now that he had your consent.

he climbed onto the bed, grabbing your thighs again and spreading them apart. he gave them a few affectionate, departing kisses and sat up to grab his cock, bringing it between them. “say ‘goofer gooner’ if you’re ready,” haechan joked, knowing you couldn’t speak.

you furrowed your brows, but you couldn’t even focus on his nonsense because jeno was noticeably forgoing all restraint. could you blame him? your mouth was warm, alive, and everything about you seemed to drive him straight through the brink of insanity. 

“you know, jeno,” haechan started, gazing down at the little distance between your bodies. “you were right. i’m already in the mood again.”

you had that effect on him, on them. haechan knew he probably should have fought it better, but he truly saw no point. it was easier to fold and surrender to the fact that he found you infuriatingly sexy, despite your tendencies. and with nothing more to say, he slowly but surely pressed himself inside you.

haechan tipped his head back, already moaning like a bitch and he wasn’t even fully sheathed inside you yet. “holy fuck,” he said, his grip on your thighs tightening.

you whimpered, the sound muffled by jeno’s cock as his balls slapped against your chin. you immediately pulsed around haechan’s cock, clinging to him like now that he was there, you would never let him go.

“holy fuck,” haechan moaned again, stopping for a moment as if the breath had been completely sucked out of him. “so fucking wet, my dick just slides in.”

he was damn near flabbergasted. maybe there was benefit to you gooning for hours on end, a benefit that he got to reap. he had never seen anyone this wet before, much less felt anything this wet, and it was taking a toll on him. his head was already reeling.

“okay,” haechan said, more so to himself. he was adjusting. “okay. fuck. i’m gonna move.”

and he did, growing more and more mesmerized with every thrust of his hips. his mouth hung open, moans of your name and explicit curses dangling from his lips with a shrill touch to them that only made you even more aroused.

to say nothing of the sounds jeno was making, almost directly in your ear. he was so close to your face that you could explode. he was finally moving comfortably, fucking your throat with a rhythm that almost made it hard to breathe. 

though you had no intention of making him stop. you had fantasized about making yourself available for this purpose many, many times. not necessarily to your stepbrother, but well, it wasn’t like you were discriminating. especially not when he sounded so goddamn sexy and his face was tensing the way it was in pleasure.

it was strange, but you found yourself going from solely craving the experience to wanting to pleasure them. and it would appear that you were doing a fantastic job without hardly even trying, all things considered.

haechan was gripping on your thighs for dear life as if without the support, he would get blown away into the eighth dimension. or maybe drown in how wet you were, gushing around his cock, if not for him using your soft thighs as an anchor to keep him afloat.

“this sweet fucking pussy,” he sighed, losing himself in the vice of you. he had set a pace too, fucking you without intention of stopping. with every fiber of his being, deep and hard. “i could fuck you forever.”

you could sit here and take it forever. you had never felt so full in your life. your fingers hardly did the job, always reaching just shy of where you needed them instead of completely offering you the satisfaction you’d long craved. and here haechan was handing it to you on a silver platter.

the only problem was that you felt slightly overwhelmed with so much happening at one time in two different holes. you didn’t know who to pay attention to; jeno fucking your throat with a vengeance, eager to gain something out of your mouth for once, or haechan railing you to kingdom come, making you feel hot everywhere.

you found yourself trying to juggle both, eyes flitting between them, moaning around jeno’s dick at haechan’s angled thrusts and throbbing around haechan at every guttural groan that slipped from jeno’s mouth. you couldn’t help yourself; it was too goddamn arousing.

jeno noticed how fucked out you looked, eyes rolling back to another timeline, and it was doing unimaginable things to his cock. you looked better than he could have ever imagined and he knew that he wouldn’t be satisfied until he left you hoarse and rasping.

with that thought, he grabbed your hair to push you down and started to fuck your head against the mattress rather roughly, which caught you by surprise. you tried to take it, you really did, but it was overwhelming. you could barely breathe.

“take it,” he hissed, holding your head in place. you looked pretty like this, struggling to keep up with his hectic movements.

your eyes were watering as his cock went too deep for you to handle, and you started gagging. jeno moaned, but pulled your head off him to let you relax for a second, a string of saliva connecting your mouth and the head of his cock.

“breathe,” he said, letting one hand run through your hair almost tenderly.

you nodded, willing yourself to relax. all the while, jeno marveled at how pretty you looked with saliva on your face and tears strolling down your cheeks.

“you guys okay up there?” haechan asked from between your legs, having noticed the action. 

“we’re fine,” jeno answered on your behalf. he moved his hand from your hair to your cheek. “you ready?”

you nodded your head. you couldn’t shake the urge to really make him proud, to satisfy all his inappropriate cravings. it was the least you could do when you had been tantalizing him for months on end.

“good girl,” jeno whispered, guiding his cock back to your mouth and this time using your hair to push your head onto his cock as he fucked your throat.

you moaned at the pet name, because something about the way it sounded coming from him made your head spin. maybe you were just horny and in dire need of a fuck like he’d said. maybe after you came, all of these feelings would wear off, and you would feel somewhat sane again. 

but you couldn’t deny that you were somewhat indulging in your fantasies here. you didn’t necessarily hate the the way jeno was treating you, even if it was a little beyond your limits and more than a little rough. but limits were just boundaries you’d yet explored.

haechan was a different situation altogether. your pussy was still sensitive from the hours of playing with it and you were already about to come much before him. there was a familiar heat in your stomach and festering throb of energy in your core, only more intense than you had ever experienced.

but haechan recognized it, even without being able to hear your sweet moans of his name. he could see it in your body language and it flattered him in a way; he always felt proud when he lasted longer than the person he was fucking, especially without necessarily even trying to finish them quicker.

“she’s gonna come,” haechan pointed out, grinning. “come for me, princess. come on this dick. you know you want to.”

it was like he your voodoo doll or something, because merely seconds after those words parted from his mouth, you were shuddering and tightening around his cock with climax, your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your toes clenching.

haechan let out the pitchiest moan ever when you throbbed around him repeatedly. words could not describe how good it felt, but sounds could. and the sounds he was making were sensational, only contributing to the mind-numbing pleasure wrecking you from within.

“goddamn,” haechan said, mesmerized by how hard you came. it was probably warranted after hours of resisting.

but the other thing on haechan’s mind was how much wetter your pussy sounded, sticky with your release. he whined, literally going mad. he knew that his own orgasm wasn’t far out and just the squelch of your cunt could easily finish him off.

jeno was facing a similar predicament, fucking your mouth without restraint and not letting you escape his thrusts. “fuck, i’m gonna come,” he groaned. “swallow it. or don’t. it’s your sheets.”

the last thing you of all people cared about was having your sheets ruined. at the moment, you were more burdened with how sore your throat felt and how overstimulated your pussy was being fucked despite having already orgasmed. it literally felt like you’d had the soul fucked out of you.

you didn’t even know it was possible at this point, but jeno’s hips went faster. it was a brutal but steady pace, which was somewhat admirable. he was trying to get himself there, right over the edge, knowing release was only seconds away.

with a few more smacks, jeno released down your throat with the sexiest groan you’d heard, one that claimed every award. when you’d milked him of every drop, his hands tight on the sides of your face, his grip on your head slacked and he slowly pulled your mouth off him.

you swallowed what you could, but he had came so goddamn much at once, it was borderline ridiculous. what you couldn’t take dripped down your chin, blending with the saliva from the messy fucking.

haechan glanced up at you and the sight of your cum-stained face triggered something so primal in him that he knew he wasn’t going to last another minute. “princess, where do you want me to come?” he asked breathlessly.

“inside,” you replied with maybe half your voice, if even. it hurt to speak. the sound pleased jeno.

the thought of coming inside your pussy had haechan levitating and was the last push he needed to bring himself past the cusp of ecstasy. his hips stuttered as he came inside you, crying out half of your name, leaning on top of you as he buried his load inside your warm, wet, gushing, sticky hole.

a satisfied hum escaped you when you felt his cum seeping inside your pussy. why did it feel so good?

“d-don’t move yet,” you whispered, because it was all you could muster.

haechan glanced up at you, recognizing the look of pleasure on your face. if he had the energy, he would tease you about how you wanted to feel him cum inside you, but he needed to catch his breath. so he answered with a nod.

jeno whistled. this had gone better than he’d hoped. “well goddamn. you’re just a virgin slut aren’t you?”

haechan chuckled breathlessly. “she took that shit like a champ. i’m impressed.”

jeno kissed your forehead. “you did so good,” he whispered, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “i’ll get you some water in a second.”

you nodded, appreciating the tender side after all that had just happened. your heart felt a little lighter than usual, despite its racing. you had so many questions, but you didn’t want to strain your voice. was it normal to feel like a different person after having sex for the first time?

haechan was going to pull out, but seeing the look on your face, he decided to stay nestled inside you for a little longer. “you okay?”

you bobbed your head. “i’m good.”

haechan snickered and teased, “whoa there, batman. what have you done with my sister?”

you rolled your eyes, but giggled. jeno joined in on the laughter, but he added, “don’t speak. you’ll make it worse.”

haechan sighed contentedly. knowing that you wouldn’t say anything in response, he decided to tease, “our little gooner.”

you glared at haechan wordlessly, conveying a lot of different things with your eyes. 

jeno translated playfully, “i think that means ‘fuck you.’”

“again?” haechan joked. “what can i expect from a gooner. but hey, i guess girls can goon too.”

[hoonieyun]

words that leave wounds .‸.

an argument leads to an exchange of words that leave wounds heeseung 𐐪♡𐑂 jongseong 𐐪♡𐑂 jaeyun 𐐪♡𐑂 sunghoon genre: angst, heat of the moment, drama, established relationship warnings: profanity, arguing, miscommunication?, 18+

hoonieyun notes: i have just been in such an angsty mood... im sorry- but there will be a part two hehe im also trying to get some ideas flowing for my angst series coming for febuary lol

part two taglist closed! read part two here

more under the cut .. !

heeseung ⋆˚ʚɞ

“can you stop? you’re being so annoying right now.” after those words left heeseung’s mouth, the silence that filled the room became suffocating. all you could hear was your heart beating and it felt like it was going to explode out of your chest. heeseung knew what he said was rude but his pride prevented him from apologizing in that moment, choosing to stand behind what he said even if he felt bad for saying it.  “annoying? i’m trying to ask you to clean up after yourself because you made our room a mess… and i’m being annoying? do you think i want to come home to such a messy bedroom and have to clean up after my grown ass boyfriend who clearly doesn’t give a fuck?” you had tried to remain calm and believe that heeseung didn’t mean it but in the time of silence and his apology being absent within that time, you decided that you’d let him know how you felt if that was what he was doing too.  heeseung sighs at your words and tries to hide his eyes rolling as he wipes his face with his hand but it doesn’t go unnoticed by you, causing you to roll your own eyes as you watch him, waiting for a response.  he stands up from his desk, pausing his game and tearing his headphones off, “no one asked you to clean up after me” heeseung says, slightly throwing his hands in the air.  you scoff at his reaction, “alright, then you can deal with this mess because i certainly won’t.” and with that you grabbed your phone and purse, making your way to your front door to slip on your shoes and leave.  “where are you going??” heeseung says, running after you as he watches you put your shoes on. “why do you care? it’s not like you’d listen to me anways.” you say, bitterness in your tone and before heeseung could even respond, you’re slipping through the front door and his voice gets caught in his throat as the door slamming echoes throughout your shared apartment.  you had waited outside the front door for a few minutes, waiting to see if heeseung would follow you and when he doesn’t, you wipe away the single tear falling from your eye as you make your way to your car, unsure of where to go.

jongseong ⋆˚ʚɞ

“when did you get so overbearing?” jay sighs, eyes narrowed and brows furrowed as he stares at your standing figure in front of him. the two of you had been arguing about his whereabouts ever since he started going out late and drinking with his friends. this wasn’t a new behavior of his but lately, it’s been happening every day opposed to just the weekends.  you weren’t sure what was happening with him but his words were now becoming pointed as the argument goes on.  “overbearing?” you ask and in jay’s current drunken state, he rolls his eyes; already knowing that this argument was just going in circles.  “sorry that i care and worry about you? is it so hard to send me a text every now and then to say where you are or when you’re coming home?  you’ve been out drinking every fucking night and i have to sit here worried about where the fuck you are until i receive a text from one of your friends that you’re too fucking drunk to drive home or when you stumble into the apartment at 3 in the morning drunk off your ass!” you had been holding this in for a while now, your emotions eating at you as you bottle it up because you didn’t think it was fair to dump your emotions on your boyfriend but clearly he didn’t have that same consideration for you.  you took care of jay whenever he came home drunk, aiding him in his drunken state and the next day when he’d wake up hungover and each time there was no consideration for you and how you’d feel having to spend hours at night worrying about him and then having to take care of him as if he wasn’t a grown adult.  “i don’t need you to do all of that! if worrying about me so much is causing you stress then stop? i don’t need you to worry about me, i don’t need you!” jay says, voice now way above a whisper and you could tell he was genuinely upset because his eyes would shut as he said those hurtful words and the veins in his neck would become prominent.  “you don’t need me?” you ask and although it comes out as a question, you weren’t looking for an answer.  his words hurt but those set of words wounded you. like each word was a stab into your heart.  you don’t let jay respond and when he does try to, everything comes out as a stutter.  everything happens so fast and before jay could fully process what he had even said, you were already leaving your shared apartment and driving away.  jay tries to call you several times and each time it goes to voicemail, choosing to leave you multiple texts.  from: jay <3 where are you going?? its late come back and lets talk this out stop being dramatic, just come back yn?? where are you? baby come on…

jaeyun ⋆˚ʚɞ

“chill the fuck out okay? fuck, get off my back!” jake says with a huff and although the two of you rarely got into arguments, this was the worst one. you had spent all day running errands, groceries, laundry, dishes, picking up and dropping layla off at the groomers, and all the while you were on your period and weren’t feeling the best.  all you asked of jake was to transfer the laundry into the drier but to make sure to take out the knit blanket so it could be air dried instead. the blanket was made by your grandmother before she passed and you cherished that blanket dearly and putting it into the dryer would cause the crochet to come undone and potentially get ruined. although jake did transfer the clothes into the dryer, he forgot to take out the blanket and when you had gotten home, the blanket was mishapen and distorted. a gasp rips through the air and you stomp over to jake who was lounging on the couch in the living room, the argument erupting because he just seemed to not care that it was a big deal to you even if it wasn’t to him.  “don’t talk to me like that, jake.. i don’t care if you’re upset or feel a certain way but don’t you ever speak to me that way.” setting boundaries was a big thing for you in every relationship you’ve been in and with jake it seemed like your boundaries were never overstepped as he was very mindful of you– but right now it seems like he doesn’t necessarily care.  the fight escalated very quickly and as you and jake argue back and forth and round and round, it wasn’t going anywhere as you continued to voice your frustrations while jake just seemed to deflect and act like they weren’t a big deal.  “i wouldn’t yell at you if you didn’t rile me up! it’s just a blanket, you can get another one.” jake retorts and you sigh because clearly he hadn’t been listening to anything you’ve said in the last 20 minutes.  you had explained multiple times that it wasn’t just a blanket and that it meant a lot to you and you simply couldn’t just get another one because it was crocheted by your grandmother who is no longer with you.  “you know what, i’m not dealing with this.” you say while grabbing your phone off the counter alongside your car keys. you bundle up the blanket in your arms and when jake notices that you’re about to leave, he gently grabs your wrist to stop you. “where are you going? we’re not done talking..” he says, voice now gentle.  “jake, please let me go. i need some space to clear my head.” you explain, not even bothering to look at him as his grasp loosens.  “tell me where you’re going at least, so i know you’re safe…” jake says, guilt clear in his voice.  “i don’t know where i’m going but i’ll text you later.” you explain and with that you’re walking through the front door, leaving jake to his own thoughts and reflect on the image of you walking away from him that would replay constantly in his mind for the rest of the day.

sunghoon ⋆˚ʚɞ

“stop being so sensitive!”  your sensitivity was always something you struggled with… and sunghoon knew that. the two of you had been arguing all night because of something one of his coworkers said about you during a work dinner and because sunghoon was afraid that if he defended you it would result in him not getting the promotion, he chose to stay silent.  your mood instantly changed at the dinner and you became more quiet and closed off than you would originally be around new people. sunghoon had invited you to this work dinner because all of the execs at his job would be bringing their wives so he thought it would be a good idea to bring his lovely girlfriend but it resulted in the men sharing laughs at your expense.  even the wives of some of the men would send glares at them for the off hand comments about you being so shy and timid and if you had known you would be the talk of the dinner, you wouldn’t have shown up, but you did… because you wanted to support your boyfriend; something he clearly didn’t care to do.  “i’m not being sensitive, they were making comments about me throughout the whole dinner and you didn’t defend me once!  you laughed with them like i was just some joke… even the wives were uncomfortable and were looking at me so pitiful.” you said, voice trembling as you changed out of your clothes from the dinner.  “it was just a joke, lighten up. you know that these guys are higher ups and i needed to make a good impression on them so i can get the promotion.  do you not want me to get promoted?” and there it was. sunghoon’s specialty; switching the blame onto you and making it seem like your sensitivity was the root of all of the problems.  “of course i want you to get promoted, i’ve supported you every step of the way since you got hired at this company but how is it supposed to make me feel when these strangers are making fun of me?  is it worth it to make a good impression on them at the expense of my well-being? you know what– don’t even answer that because i know you wouldn’t understand.” you say, choosing to slip into a hoodie and head back to the front door.  “where are you going?” sunghoon says, clearly annoyed with you even if you hadn’t done anything wrong.  “you know– maybe if you stopped thinking i was too senstive and started to realize that maybe you were being insensitive, you’d understand how i’m feeling.” you say as you open the front door and close it behind you, not allowing sunghoon to get another word in.  you’re starting up the car and backing out of your driveway when you see sunghoon running out, waving his hands in the air to get your attention. you don’t bother rolling down the windows to hear him out because he hadn’t given you that grace. fighting the urge to let the tears fall and cloud your vision as you drive to god knows where.  sunghoon lets his head fall back in frustration as he watches the car drive away. you two weren’t unfamiliar to arguments but you had never walked away… and this time you did. 

𐐪♡𐑂 @pagemiah @jiiyen @jnysaln @xh01bri @rairaiblog @laurradoesloveu @17ericas @manaah02 @heeseung64 @zorange13

copyright 2025 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned. if you enjoyed reading this please consider reblogging and following <3

[cosmopretty]

Jealous Girls

Synopsis: You can’t help but be jealous of how much time your girlfriends Paige and Azzi were spending together without you

warnings: smut, nsfw

Ever since basketball season started both of your girlfriends have been spending so much time together practicing and you’ve been feeling left out. You know it’s for basketball and they’re just trying to get better but it still bothers you.

So recently you’ve been avoiding the two of them since your feelings were hurt. And you knew you should have just talked to them but you were way too petty to confess that you were jealous.

Now it’s been two days since you have talked to either of them, and it drove them crazy. The three of you all lived in an apartment together so you’ve just been staying at your friend’s dorm. Both of them have been texting your phone but you just kept leaving them on seen. Today was their first day off since the season started and the fact that you weren’t with them right now pissed them off.

“You where the fuck is our girl?” Paige groans throwing her phone across the couch. Her and Azzi came home this morning after a workout to surprise you, they had flowers and chocolates but you weren’t there. Both of them had texted your phone multiple times and have gotten no answer back.

Azzi gets up and grabs Paige’s keys and opens the door “Let’s go grab her and bring her back here, come on” she waves her hand and walks out the door with Paige behind her.

They drive down to the dorms where your friend stayed and parked the car. Hopping out of the car they immediately spot you sitting on the bench your knees in your chest while you speak to a blonde girl next to you. They didn’t know who the hell that was, and it was not your friend.

Storming over to you Paige stops infront of you, towering over you as she crosses her arms “So who’s this?” she asks you. Azzi stands behind her staring at you waiting for your response. They knew you would never cheat on them, but you haven’t talked to them in days and now they see you with someone random girl, who looks a little to similar to Paige. It made them assume something was going on.

“This is my friend’s cousin she’s having boyfriend problems so I’m helping her” You tell them crossing your arms while you stare up at Paige, challenging her. The girl next to you stands up and pats your shoulder “I think I should go, good luck with that and thank you” she says before walking away not giving you a chance to respond to her.

Azzi’s eyes soften when she looks at you, she could tell something was wrong she could read you like a book.

Paige sucks her teeth “So you can’t talk to us for days but can talk to some random bitch” she scoffs while Azzi grabs her arm, giving her a look.

Sitting on the bench you shrug and look away from the two, staring at the flowers on the grass to your left. Paige grabs your jaw, turning your head and making you look at her “Get your ass up and get in the car I’m not playing with you lil girl” she says through her teeth before abruptly letting go and walking away.

You walk to the car quietly not saying a word to with of them while Azzi can’t take her eyes off of you. She couldn’t understand why you were acting like this, you wouldn’t even look at them when you all sat in the car. No one said a word as Azzi drove you all back home, you sat in the back your arms crossed as you stared out the window, Paige watching you.

Once you all got back into the apartment you tried to go to the bedroom, but Paige dragged you to the couch. She sat you down and stood infront of you with Azzi by her side, both of them staring down at you.

“What’s wrong with you? What happened baby?” Azzi asks in a sweet voice bending down infront of you. Her hand comes to hold your knee and instead of leaning into her touch like always you flinch away bring your knees to your chest.

Finally making eye contact with Azzi, you blink away tears “You guys are what’s wrong, it’s not fair” you mumble pouting.

Both Paige and Azzi look at one another confused before Paige comes and sits down next to you “I dont get it, tell us what’s wrong” she says concerned, staring at the side of your face.

“You guys always together all the time and then there me. It’s not fair why am I always left out” You grumble crossing your arms across your chest.

Paige looks at you dumbfounded “The only time me and Azzi are together without you is for basketball” she tells you as if you were a child and not junior in college.

You ignore her and roll your eyes Azzi grabs your chin and makes you look at her “Don’t roll your eyes you sound like a brat right now. You’re mad because we were spending too much time playing basketball then with you. Even though you know how important this season is” she scoffs standing up and towering over you once again.

Scrunching your eyebrows “No- I’m not- well” you stutter and Paige laughs at you grabbing your arm and pulling you up. She drags you to the bedroom with Azzi following behind “Babygirl just wants attention, since you want attention baby we’ll give you attention” she smirks.

The blonde lets go of your arm and pushes you down on the bed and starts stripping you of your clothes. Once you’re bare infront of her and Azzi, she leans down kissing down your body till she gets to your core.

She blows on your folds and your body jerks up so Azzi climbs next to you holding you down “Poor baby just needed some attention huh” she teases you holding your waist down against the bed.

Paige’s big hands hold your thighs apart as she dips her head down into you. Her tongue licks a stripe through your folds and you moan your back arching. She smirks and starts sucking your clit, her teeth pushing against you.

A feeling a euphoria washes over you when she pleases you. So Azzi bends down and starts kissing your chest, her mouth comes down to suck on one of your nipples. Your hands come to her head trying to pry her off of you. So she grabs both your hands with one of hers and holds them above your head. She pulls away from your boob with a pop “Nuh uh baby bad girls don’t get to touch you’ll just take what we give you” she says sweetly her big eyes staring at yours distracting you from Paige.

Before you can realize Paige has let go of one of your thighs she shoves two of her long fingers into you.

“Fuck- fuck Paige” You whine moaning your back arching from the stretch her fingers were causing you.

She starts pumping her finger in and out of you, her fingers pushing through your gummy walls. No matter how many times she stretches you out, you’re still so tight for her.

Azzi stared down at you in awe, she thought you were the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen. Her other hand comes to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing against your soft skin “Your so beautiful, pretty thing” she whispers leaning down and kissing your lips.

Being stuck under the two of them, you could barely talk or move. They did whatever they wanted to you, you were at their mercy.

Your stomach tightens at her words and Paige’s fingers pushing inside you. You were about to cum and Paige could tell by the way your thighs were starting to close around her head. She starts sucking on your clit harder and curling her fingers inside you.

Azzi dominants the kiss sliding her tongue in your mouth pushing it down your throat. Her hand moves from your cheek to your neck squeezing slightly as you gasp. Pulling away from the kiss you moan your head falling back “Mm gonna cum, please- please” you beg your walls squeezing around Paige’s fingers. You felt like something was about to snap inside of you, the pleasure becoming too much for you.

Her fingers push deeper into you, harder than before hitting that sweet spot inside you. Paige’s pulls away from your clit and rubs your clit with her thumb “Aw pretty baby wants to cum” she teases “Come on then baby cum for us” she tells you as her fingers speed up inside if you.

Your hips jerk up as you gush all over her fingers soaking her and the sheets. Paige smiles to herself slowing down her pace “Damn baby” she says staring down at you. Azzi turns around and sees the mess you made and she shakes her head “Poor girl really needed this huh” she teases you turning back around to face you as you cover your face embarrassed.

Laughing a bit Azzi lets go of your neck and moves her hand to pet your head “You fucking squirted baby that’s so hot” Paige says coming up and kissing you roughly, pulling her fingers out of you.

That night ended up with the three of you in sheets, showing each other how much you really missed one another.

[ronearoundblindly]

Lease

best-friend!roommate!reader x Steve Rogers

*This was a totally random and spontaneous idea. Not edited. Light language (so we can get *the joke*), pining, light angst, hurt/comfort, and fluff. This work is for all ages! WC ~2k

Sam Wilson introduces you. Both your parents were veterans and active at the VA, so you practically grew up there.

At first, you’re reserved, a little formal, but very nice. Oddly enough, Steve just likes that you don’t hound him with questions about his military service and how it was different based on the decade, etc. You are just…around to listen.

He finds himself filling any (comfortable) silence between you with stories. Stupid things. Things that don’t have to do with the VA or his past or even his present, which is entirely work as Captain America.

Steve gets to a point where he is itching to live off of Avengers Campus, but he doesn’t want to live alone.

One day he finds you hunched over a laptop and grumbling, “why is everything so fucking expensive?”

A sentiment which, of course, he frowns at.

“Sorry,” you shrug, a look of sincere apology on your distraught face. “I didn’t realize it, but apparently, I’m poor with my measly three-thousand-dollar-a-month budget for an apartment. Now I have to find a roommate, and—“ you start wagging a finger at him sarcastically “—I don’t know if you’ve noticed there’re some real weirdos out there. It’ll take me longer to find a safe, stable roomie than it takes to—“

“I can move in with you.”

Steve almost gasps at how fast the words fly out of his mouth.

“Well, not ‘move in’ to your current place. I mean. I can—I would be willing to live with you. Sorry! That sounds bad. You’re not bad. I meant…you know, anytime you want to chime in and stop me would be helpful.”

You remain silent and smirking.

“Right. Okay. So…think about it? Or not, that’s fine.”

“Let’s talk figures, Rogers. The square-footage just doubled, and I need to rework the budget.”

Moving in is shockingly uneventful. You’re easy to get along with, when not suddenly up on your high horse about something, and Steve is easy to get along with under the same circumstances. You push his militant rigidity to the brink on purpose, but never too far.

Things sit out in the wrong place, but it’s never dirty. Stuff doesn’t always get returned promptly, but if he asks, you’re on it.

There are two bathrooms, thank mercy.

He has random and odd hours. You work nine to five, mostly. It’s the perfect level of independence without loneliness for Steve.

Sam and Natasha stop by regularly or ask you both out for drinks or to fun, new places.

One time, when Nat is ribbing Steve to go talk to a cute girl ordering at the bar, he panics and takes your hand in his on the tabletop.

“How can I do that when my date is right here?” he grits playfully through his pearly white teeth. “Leave it alone.”

Each word is punctuated by a shift forward and a slight tilt of his head.

Natasha is unamused and instantly grabs your other hand (which was holding your drink) to pull you toward the dance floor.

It’s awkward for multiple reasons. You’d pay a whole month’s rent to know what Sam and Steve talked about after you left.

Sam takes a different approach, luring—or attempting to lure—Steve into setting up just one dating profile online.

“You don’t have to put photos,” Sam assures, “and you can stick with your first name only. I swear to you, man, this’ll be good for you. Get you out there more. Help me out here, Tagalong!”

He turns to you for support. To be fair, you did quite literally tag along with your parents for years to the VA, and it stuck. Why it sticks as a grown-ass adult? You’ll never know. You just don’t mind Sam Wilson saying it because he means well and never uses it in public.

“Uh, nooooo.”

Sam’s face falls. “What?”

You look at Steve and grimace, clicking your tongue. “He’s not ready for that,” you conclude.

Steve jumps out of the chair, arms wide with victory.

“THAT’S WHAT I’VE BEEN SAYING!”

“I know you told her to say that,” Sam shouts back.

“Did not,” Steve barks.

“He did not.” You lean against your bedroom doorframe. “I just think it’s obvious.”

That makes Steve deflate a little. “Wait, but…I’m not that bad.”

“Oh gosh,” you fake with a huge smile, “look at the time! Gotta be off to bed…”

The men keep fighting albeit muffled from your side of the wall. The only part you can make out before giving them privacy is Sam, whining, “but you actually like bubble baths and walks on the beach, dude. You’re gonna be money on there.”

“Hey, why do you not, ya know, date?”

You look up from your breakfast, stunned because that came out of nowhere. You’ve lived together over six months now, and Steve hasn’t asked for one iota of personal—well, romantically personal—information.

Twiddling your fork around, you think.

“I always imagine what my parents would think of him, any guy I’ve ever considered being with longterm, and…I was just never proud to say ‘here, here’s the one,’ I guess.”

Your parents have been gone for years. You value their opinion anyway.

“Mhm,” Steve hums, “the one?”

You take a bite of food, straightening your back, tossing a dismissive hand in the air. “Yeah, if you believe in that sort of thing.”

He’s quiet for a while.

“So you’re waiting for the right partner?” Steve finally mutters, and he watches your noncommittal gesturing intently.

That was a ‘yes.’

Natasha knows. Sam knows. Steve suspects but won’t admit to anything. You are kind and unreadable.

You’ve always been kind, so there’s no discernible difference to signal you have feelings for him in return. He can’t bring himself to be anything less than a gentleman at home and makes absolutely no moves to find out.

He stays out in the living room a lot more, all hours, hoping you’ll mention staying in for a movie, praying you’ll be tired enough to fall asleep on his lap on the couch.

He’s in way too deep.

What Steve suspects is that it would be too awkward to start anything while living together, but he doesn’t want to leave you in the lurch for rent or a roommate. He also desperately doesn’t want to move out. The status quo is comfortable.

He loves being comfortable with you.

The stress of not telling you, while needing to make some sort of arrangements should telling you blow up in his face, starts to wear on him.

Steve is a pro at compartmentalizing his life, so it’s when he’s stuck at the apartment without any missions, a handful of meetings, and a team that all have lives for two long months that he cracks…in the least attractive way.

He’s messed up his sleep schedule with worry and playing innocent, and out of the not-so-blue, a horrible, vivid nightmare hits him. Steve isn’t even on the mattress anymore by the time he figures out there wasn’t carpet like this in Germany and the desk chair he grips is not a motorcycle.

“Rogers,” he hears. “Rogers, can you look at me?”

The dark room is somehow hollow and stifling all at once. His head turns slower than his brain tells it to.

Steve blinks.

“Do you know where you are?”

“Hey, sweets,” he husks from a dry throat. “What…”

“Can you tell me where this is?” You step closer and pry one of his hands off the mesh to cradle in yours. “Where are we, Rogers?”

“Home.” He swallows. “Our home.”

Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes, but you nod like he’s done well.

“Okay, Steve, I’m going to get you some water. If you want—“ your fingers smooth over the back of his hand, nudging the other to release the chair “—you can sit on the bed.”

You don’t leave. You don’t even get up from the floor.

He doesn’t notice he’s clutching your hands, shaking slightly until long seconds go by.

“Yeah. Okay.” Steve lets go, otherwise unmoving, contemplating how he ever thought the semi-rough industrial carpet felt the same as mud.

You carefully hand him the water and rub his back, using your nails to trace invisible patterns. He can’t remember what he was so scared of a minute ago. He only knows he’s sweating that empty kind of confused.

“What’s that supposed to do?” he asks absently.

You shrug. “Eh. Back scratches just feel good.”

Steve’s mind remains blank as he sips his water.

: We need to renew the lease soon. Like this week.

Steve has stalled as long as humanly possible; he is officially not being a gentleman now. He is a coward.

: Talk about it when I get home?

: Could you at least tell me if this is a hard NO on staying here or just some concerns/questions? : I don’t get why you’re being like this.

Steve gets it, but he hates it.

: I’ll be back tonight. Should I pick up food?

: ffs : Fine. Whatever you want.

Steve also hates when you’re mad at him…which has been happening more and more.

He’s been distant, he refuses to let Sam or Nat come around for fear they’ll play match-maker and ruin the whole thing, and he is about to ruin the whole thing anyway.

Because he is not smooth. Because he is not prepared. Because he’s built up this perfect and amazing, sweep-you-off-your-feet moment.

And he bungles it.

“Out with it,” you command, haughtily yanking your portion of food from the countertop beside him, heading for the dinette.

“I want to be with you,” he blurts.

“Thank god,” you sigh, settling in your spot. “So we’ll go down to the office and sign in the morning. I don’t want there to be an issue if you’re off to wherever for who-the-hell-knows how long on the date the thing expires.”

“No, I…” but Steve’s voice is too quiet.

“There’s only a tiny window where they’re open before I have to head to work, so let me physically sign first, right? Then I gotta go.”

“Sure,” he slurs.

“Steve?” You turn to see him staring down at his food. He’s still across the room. “Are you okay?”

“I said I—I meant that—“ he huffs out his breath and taps his fist on the counter “—I meant that I’m an idiot,” he finishes softly.

Approaching with that beautiful, open-hearted kindness that haunts his days and soothes his night, you cross to him, scratching his back just the way he’s grown to crave.

“Think you might be hangry,” you chuckle.

He cannot do this. Steve is hanging on by a thread until the graze of your hand slides down his forearm to take his plate, and he spins.

He’s thought about kissing you so many times, he mapped out the angles he’d have to hold himself at, how far he needs to lean to get to you, the care to take wrangling in his strength and sheer excitement.

Steve Rogers is good at planning, at least, this part.

Gentle pecks of his plush lips to yours leave gaps in contact that let you whimper, and he fears you stopping him. He presses, wrapping his arms around you and molding your bodies together. The linoleum of the kitchen floor makes sticky sounds beneath your shuffling feet, squeaking once you hit the adjacent wall.

The force of that knocks your frozen arms into his chest, and painfully, Steve relents to step away, but not far. He bites his bottom lip and tastes the balm from yours, his head tilted in shame but fiery eyes watching you from beneath long lashes.

“Oh,” you breathe out. “Oh…you meant…”

Steve’s tongue darts out hungrily.

“Yeah.”

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

They're soooo cute!!!!!!

[cxrdycxps]

And They Were Room Mates • Abby Anderson

☢️ Owen and Mel bashing • pwp basically • reader really enjoys giving Abby head • pussy worship babyyyy • swearing • talking about masturbation ☢️

Main Masterlist • Abby Anderson Masterlist

Your bedroom door opened and Abby slammed it shut behind her, stalking forward to collapse on your bed. You pushed your headphones off and put the lid back on your highlighter. “Hi Abby, how are you? Would you like to come into my room, Abby? Make yourself comfortable.”

Abby grabbed your soft pillow and shoved her face into it and screamed. You stared at her in horror when she took a deep breath and screamed again. “Should I call a priest? Do we need an excorcist?”

“You need to stop humping your fucking pillows. I can smell your cunt on this one.” You stared at Abby when she tossed your pillow away and turned over to stare at your ceiling.

“Firstly, it’s my pillow. I’ll do what I want with it. Secondly, how the fuck do you know what any part of me smells like?” You snapped at her, mortified by her comments. “Get the fuck out and scream into your own pillows.”

“Mel is pregnant.” You stared at her, still off balance from her earlier comments. You weren’t sure why her best friend being pregnant was such a scream worthy event. Or why it resulted in her coming in to bully you in your own room. “It’s Owen’s.”

“Oh fuck.” You couldn’t stop yourself. You covered your mouth once the words were out but Abby was already staring at you, nodding her head.

“Yeah. He fucked her on our three day break.” Abby laughed bitterly and you stood from your desk to sit on the edge of the bed, taking one of her large hands in yours to console her. “Well, he fucked her for our three day break. Then decided he missed me.”

“To be fair, Mel’s a whiny bitch. I wouldn’t have chosen her over you either.” You told her honestly and she rolled her eyes at you. “And it may be personal opinion but you are hotter than her.”

You lived with Abby in shared accommodation just off campus. She had lived here with her friend Manny last year but he had graduated so she had posted the listing. You had been desperate to escape on campus accommodation and jumped at the chance to live in an apartment with your own bedroom and bathroom.

Neither of you crossed paths often, usually coming and going at complete opposite times. She woke early to go to the gym, you worked late at a bar down town. You both had classes all day and she spent a lot of time in Owen’s apartment.

You had moments like this. Pockets of overlap where you found time to get to know each other. You had met her friend group in passing, she had met yours. You had met Owen, she had accidentally met one or two of the girls you had hooked up with in the past while they left the next morning.

You had accidentally propositioned her while drunk once. It was a long running joke at this point.

“You only want me for my body.” Abby sighed and you shrugged, laying back beside her so you were both staring at the ceiling. “My best fucking friend.”

“You should probably get a new one of those. I’ll be your best friend. I’m pretty cool.” You assured her, nudging her shoulder with yours. “I can be your best fucking friend, too. You just have to take me up on my offer.”

“What do you- oh. Best fucking friend. I get it. Smart.” She huffed a dry laugh while you giggled at yourself. “They barely ever even talked!”

“Maybe for good reason?” You asked and she turned so she was looking at you. You copied her and your faces were only a couple of inches apart. “Maybe he wanted to dick her down since day one.”

“You’re not helping.” Abby turned back to stare at the ceiling and you shrugged.

“If I’m being honest, I get why you’re mad or whatever. I just think it’s a waste of your energy. Mel has the personality of the contents of the bottom of the sink after the dishes have been done. Owen micromanaged you and you let him. What are you actually loosing?” Abby probably didn’t want you to be honest but you didn’t typically have another session. “The sex didn’t even sound good.”

“Better than your pillow.” Abby quipped back and you laughed.

“My pillow made me cum every time. Can you say the same for Owen?” You asked her and she grunted in answer which made you laugh, the bed shaking with your movements. “What were you actually getting out of the relationship?”

“He was there for me. When my dad died.” Abby told you and you sighed heavily, clasping her hand in yours. “He got me through that.”

“So he’s not a complete waste of space. People outgrow each other, Abs.” You told her quietly. “You outgrew him a long time ago.”

“I’ve been with him since I was fourteen. How do I let go of seven years?” She asked with a sigh and you shrugged. In truth, you had no clue.

“Go out and fuck someone else. Get a new hobby? Maybe egg his house. Or her house. Or just egg something.” Abby laughed wetly. You didn’t look at her, not closely. She needed a moment so you let her have it. “You can borrow my pillow?”

///

“Got someone looking for you out front.” You were stood in the kitchen, attempting to eat quickly while chatting to the grouchy head chef. Joel didn’t really say much but you knew he had a soft spot for you. He had even tried to set you up with his daughter once. He always made sure to set something aside for you to eat.

“Tell ‘em to fuck off.” You snapped and Joel coughed to disguise his laugh. Dina, Joel’s daughter’s current girlfriend, threw her hands up.

“Do I look like a fucking messenger girl? Get back out on the bar anyway, Jesse is drowning out there.” Jesse, Dina’s ex boyfriend, worked the bar with you most nights. He was a shit bartended though and you ended up doing double the work.

“You ever think about how incestuous this restaurant staff is?” You asked Joel, shoving the last few fries into your mouth. Tess, the line cook, laughed at you and you narrowed your eyes at her. “I know you two have been fucking in the store room.”

Joel barked your name when Tess ducked her head and you skipped out of the kitchen, returning to the bar to find it was three deep. You sighed, tying your apron and pasting on a smile.

“You should fucking quit.” You elbowed Jesse who only shrugged at you, pouring drinks. You waved at people to start shouting orders at you, checking ID along with starting tabs.

By the time the rush had moved off you found your caller sitting at the end of the bar. Abby was nursing a beer, two shots of tequila next to her with all the fixings.

“What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” You asked her with a grin. She looked up from her phone and blinked at you before gesturing to the shots. “For me?”

“It’s sad doing them alone and I need some courage.” She told you honestly and you tilted your head. “Time to get back out there, right?”

It had been two months since she came to your room to scream and you had been worried about how well she was handling everything. This was a good sign.

You licked the back of your hand and sprinkled the salt over the wet patch. Abby copied you and you held up your shot to her. “To you getting your pussy ate.”

She didn’t repeat the cheers, rolling her eyes. She did drink though and you took that as a good sign while sucking on the wedge of lime. You looked up when your name was called and found Maria, the manager on tonight, glaring at you. “She bought it for me. It’s good customer service, Maria.”

“Get back to work.” You gestured around to remind her that you were in fact behind the bar, no current customers in sight. She narrowed her eyes at you and moved off to complain about you to the servers. Dina would agree cause she didn’t like that you had fucked Ellie, Joel’s daughter, before she had. She also was Maria’s favorite because she was Ellie’s aunt.

The whole system made your head hurt and you swigged from Abby’s beer to chase the flavor of the tequila on your tongue. “Don’t fucking backwash.”

“Come on, Abby. Admit it, you wanna swap bodily fluids with me.” You leaned forward on the bar and her eyes dipped to look down your blouse. You always left it one button too low to increase tips. “Abby Anderson, are you looking at my tits?”

“You know I am. Hard not to when they’re as good as in my face.” Abby sighed and you grinned, delighted with her honesty. “Don’t worry, I’ll tip well.”

“You know what, Anderson?” You asked her. You looked up when a customer shouted an order at you and you took the lid off the beer sliding it over to him. “If you strike out tonight, I’ll eat your pussy myself.”

You left Abby to consider your words when the next wave began and you dove into the fray to serve them. When you looked back she was gone, a signed receipt and a tip tucked under her beer mat. You laughed and cleared her bottle and pocketed the tip.

///

When you got back to the apartment you were surprised to find Abby still up, sitting on the sofa. With the television playing. You kicked off your shoes and swung by the kitchen, grabbing yourself and her a beer.

“You cleared out early.” You remarked, tossing yourself down next to her on the cushions. You held both beers out and scrunched your eyes shut when she opened them with her teeth. “Strike out?”

“Got a better offer.” She answered and you let your head fall to the side so you could look at her. “Why would I hang around when you already made me a promise?”

“What promise was that, Abby?” You asked her with a sly smile. Abby rarely swore unless she was really worked up and you wanted to set her on edge.

“You know what you promised.” Abby huffed, cheeks pink. You stared at her and brought your bottle up to your lips, taking a long drink. You didn’t speak and she began to fidget. “If you weren’t serious then-”

“Abby, I’ve wanted a taste of you since like thirty seconds after signing the lease.” You laughed and she turned a darker red in her cheeks. The color was creeping down towards her neck. “I’ve literally dreamed about having your thighs either side of my head.”

“You’re such a fucking-” Abby shook her head but you only grinned at her frustration. She hadn’t been with women before, you knew that much. She had realized she was interested in them when she started college but she had loved Owen.

You rolled your eyes and handed her your bottle. You stretched your arms up in the air and shook off the exhaustion of your late shift before standing and moving kneel between Abby’s spread legs. “Time to let me see what’s under these cargos and by the way, if it looks like I’m suffocating? Leave me there. Death by your pussy is such a good way to go.”

Abby was laughing now, too used to your humor to be embarrassed anymore. You helped unbutton her trousers and pull them down. You paused and swallowed, wondering why the simple boxers under her cargos made your own pussy pulse in arousal. Why did her thick thighs look so much hotter than any other woman you had ever been with?

“Later, once you recover from the orgasm I’m about to give you, I’m riding your thigh. I don’t even care if this is a one time thing. I need to experience that.” You babbled, pulling on the hem of her boxer shorts and finally exposing her to you.

“Oh fuck.” You breathed, closing your eyes for a moment. Abby Anderson ticked all your boxes but right now it was like she had read every deep thought you’d ever had. You were the first to advocate for people grooming themselves however they deemed fit but the patch of coarse curls that you had just uncovered made you groan.

Abby had a fat cunt, something you could bury your face in. You spread her thighs with your palms and leaned forward, licking up her slit to find her clit. It was swollen with arousal but when you pulled back you could see the raw abuse on it. “You’ve been playing with yourself.”

Abby groaned, her head back against the couch. Some of her embarrassment was returning as she arched her hips upwards to you. “Tell me you were playing with your clit while thinking of me.”

“Obviously,” Abby grunted and you rewarded her with a firm suck to the sensitive bundle of nerve endings. She moaned and you were proud to note you’d never heard that noise coming from her room when her and Owen had fucked. Quiet as they had tried to be. “Had to take the edge off after watching you in the bar. You’re so fucking competent, bouncing around with your tits out.”

You didn’t speak, choosing instead to spit against her clit and listened to her moans to let you know what she enjoyed. You pulled her thighs and she shuffled out to the edge of the sofa, her fingers grasping at your hair.

It was when you were licking into her, your nose against her clit, that the door opened. The pair of you froze, directly in the sight line of Owen who stood at the door. “Abby, what the fuck?”

It seemed like a private conversation so you looked away, nudging your nose against her clit again. She moaned, her head back against the sofa. “Leave the key.”

You hummed against her hole and her fingers tightened against you. Owen tossed the keys on the entry way table and retreated. You pulled away to call out to him. “If you wait a minute or so you can hear what it sounds like when Abby actually cums.” He slammed the door and Abby’s hoarse laugh was cut off when you returned your attention to her clit.

You used your tongue to push back the clitoral hood and pay special attention to the most sensitive part of her. The almost red skin contracted when you licked at it firmly and Abby lost all pretenses, an actual scream falling from her mouth when she came.

You kind of hoped he was still listening.

[aneertawrites]

Room Next Door - Caleb x fem!Reader

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 (the end <3)

Part 4 : The Breaking Point

a/n : early post today bc i wanted to get this out earlier teehee

Backstory : You and Caleb were childhood best friends that had grown apart, yet a chance meeting outside of your student accommodation (followed by a realisation you’d be sharing it with Caleb of all people) brought back all the memories you had kept buried in the back of your mind.

Tropes : Childhood best friends, roommate romance, forced proximity, there WILL be smut, jealousy, other man drama.

Caleb x fem!Reader

The ride home with Zayne wasn’t awkward, no. He made you feel comfortable despite your very obvious… rejection, if that’s what it could be called, back at the party.

“Listen, Zayne, I’m so sorry—“

“Stop worrying, okay?” Zayne said calmly, looking at you from the corner of his eye, flashing you a small, reassuring smile. “I’ve known for a while. I just decided to be selfish tonight and let myself indulge for a while.”

You worked at your lip, avoiding his gaze.

You didn’t deserve his understanding. His kindness. His gentle nature.

“Hey, stop being silly,” he murmured, tapping your thigh twice, affectionately. “I’m really fine. Just worry about how things are going to go back in your apartment. And let me know, okay? I’m always here if you need a little stress relief.”

You flashed Zayne a tight smile as he pulled up outside your student accommodation building, trying to convey your gratitude in a way words wouldn’t be able to fail you.

It started with a text.

Your phone buzzed against the counter. Zayne.

Had fun tonight. Let me know if you need anything. Always here, you know that right?

It wasn’t the first time he’d texted you like this, and it wasn’t the first time Caleb had seen it. But something about tonight—something about the way Caleb stared at your phone like it personally offended him—set your teeth on edge.

Years of him pining after you prior to his leaving caught up to him, a vein in his neck throbbing with the effort of holding back.

You locked the screen and slid it into your pocket, but the tension in the room was thick, suffocating, crackling with something unspoken.

Then Caleb scoffed, shaking his head as he grabbed his water bottle from the counter.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, twisting the cap off with unnecessary force. “Does he ever give you a break?”

Your stomach twisted. Your fingers curled into your palms. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Caleb let out a sharp laugh, running a hand through his hair. “It means he’s always texting you. Always around. Always acting like he’s got some kind of fucking claim on you.” He looked at you then, eyes dark. “It’s pathetic.”

Your blood boiled.

“What the actual fuck, Caleb?” You snapped, spinning to face him fully. “Zayne is my friend. And for the record? He actually gives a shit about me.”

Caleb let out a slow breath through his nose, shaking his head. “Oh, right. Because Zayne’s just such a great fucking guy, huh?” His voice was dripping in sarcasm, his jaw clenched tight.

Your heart pounded. “Yeah, actually, he is.”

Caleb scoffed. “Right. And I’m supposed to believe this whole little ‘just friends’ thing? That you two are just innocently hanging out, that there’s nothing more going on?”

You blinked, stunned for a second, before laughing.

It was harsh. Unbelieving.

“Wow,” you breathed, shaking your head. “That’s rich, Caleb. Coming from you.”

His brow furrowed, lips parting slightly. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

You stepped closer, voice rising. “It means you don’t get to act like this. You don’t get to sit there, acting all jealous and bitter, when you were the one who fucked off and left me behind.”

Caleb’s eyes darkened. “I didn’t—”

“Yes, you did,” you snapped, pointing a finger at him. “You left. You stopped texting. Stopped calling. You cut me out like I didn’t fucking matter.”

His jaw ticked. “That’s not fair—”

“No, Caleb,” you cut him off, voice shaking now. “What’s not fair is you standing here, acting like you have some kind of fucking right to tell me who I can and can’t see. Especially not after being back in my life for less than a fucking week, after having practically fucking ghosted me.”

“I’m not telling you shit,” he shot back, voice suddenly louder. “I’m just saying it’s funny—hilarious, actually—how the second I come back into your life, you go running straight into his arms.”

Your mouth fell open. “What the fuck are you implying?”

Caleb took a step closer, eyes blazing. “I’m saying maybe you’re not making out with him, letting him touch all up on you, because you like him. Maybe you’re just trying to replace me.”

You saw red.

The pure fucking audacity.

Your hands were shaking now, white-hot anger flooding your chest.

“You are such a fucking asshole.”

Caleb’s nostrils flared, his fists clenching at his sides. “And you’re a fucking coward.”

Your breath hitched. “Excuse me?”

He stepped even closer, his voice sharp, cutting, full of something raw. “You heard me. You can pretend all you want, go to those fucking parties and kiss and feel him, act like you’re totally fine, but you and I both know you don’t feel shit for him.”

Your entire body froze.

He saw the hesitation in your eyes. And it pissed you off even more. “You don’t know what the fuck I feel,” you spat.

Caleb let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Oh, yeah? Then tell me.”

“What?”

He leaned in, challenging. “Tell me you actually want him. That when he kisses you, it feels right. That when he touches you, it doesn’t feel like something’s fucking missing.”

Your stomach twisted, breath catching in your throat.

Because fuck him.

Because fuck him for knowing exactly where to aim and hitting dead center.

But you refused to let him have this. Refused.

You squared your shoulders, tilting your chin up. “Why do you care, Caleb?” you threw back, voice shaking with rage. “Huh? Why does it fucking matter to you?”

He blinked. His mouth parted slightly, but nothing came out.

And you saw it then—the hesitation. The fear. The way his throat bobbed like he was swallowing something down.

“Say it,” you pushed, voice lower now, daring. “Go on. Fucking say it. You call me a coward, when you’re the biggest of them all!”

Caleb exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face, looking anywhere but at you.

Then, finally—

“Because it should be me.” He finally ground out, his voice strained and low, his eyes narrowed.

Your breath hitched.

The words hung heavy in the air, pressing against your chest, settling deep in the space between you.

Your pulse thundered in your ears.

Caleb’s jaw was clenched so tight you thought it might crack. His hands were fists at his sides, his whole body tense, rigid, shaking.

You opened your mouth, but—

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Forget it,” he muttered, voice rough, hoarse. “Do whatever the fuck you want.”

Then—he turned.

Left you standing there, heart hammering, everything inside you burning.

The door to his room slammed behind him. The sound reverberated through the apartment, rattling through your ribs, your spine, your fucking soul.

You stood there, unmoving.

Your hands still trembled at your sides, knuckles white, your breath coming in uneven, shallow bursts.

Because what the fuck just happened?

You pressed a hand to your chest, like you could physically calm the erratic beating of your heart, but it was no use. Caleb’s words were still there—burned into your mind, looping over and over like a cruel taunt.

“Because it should be me.”

Your stomach twisted.

Your pulse roared in your ears, the heat from the argument still prickling under your skin, still humming through your veins.

He was gone. He walked away. Again.

And you let him?

You sucked in a shaky breath, blinking against the stinging in your eyes.

You weren’t going to cry.

Not over this. Not over him. Not again.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you nearly jumped out of your skin. You knew who it was before you even looked.

Zayne.

Probably checking in, because that’s what Zayne did. Because he was safe. Reliable. Because he cared about you in a way that was steady, unwavering.

Unlike Caleb.

Unlike the boy who kissed you in a childhood dare, stealing both your first kiss and your heart, and promised you forever. Unlike the boy who left, who stopped texting, who came back and still wouldn’t fucking stay.

A bitter laugh bubbled in your throat.

Your fingers itched to punch out a text to Caleb, to ask why the fuck he even said it—why he dropped that bomb, that confession, only to disappear like a fucking coward.

But you already knew the answer.

Because that’s what Caleb did.

Too bad, so fucking sad. You weren’t letting him go this time.

Caleb barely made it to his room before his knees hit the edge of the bed, and he sat down hard, elbows digging into his thighs, head dropping into his hands.

His chest ached.

Fucking burned.

His breathing was shallow, uneven. His fingers tangled in his hair, pulling at the roots like the sharp pain might drown out the mess in his head.

But it didn’t.

It only made everything worse.

“Because it should be me.”

The words echoed, taunting. Mocking. A confession he never meant to make.

He squeezed his eyes shut.

Fuck.

What the hell was wrong with him?

Why did he always do this—ruin everything?

The second he saw her phone light up with Zayne’s name, something inside him snapped. It was stupid. Irrational. Jealousy that had no fucking right to exist

Because he had no right to feel this way.

Not when he left.

Not when he ignored her.

Not when he was the one who cut her out.

And yet… Seeing her with Zayne, watching them dance around something easy, something effortless, had been like swallowing glass. Like watching a home that used to be his go up in flames, knowing he was the one who struck the match.

He squeezed his fists tight.

She was right. She was fucking right. He didn’t get to be jealous. He didn’t get to act like he had some kind of claim on her.

You couldn’t stay in the kitchen anymore. You couldn’t let the tension sit between you two like this—not after the argument, not after everything Caleb had said.

Your heart was still hammering in your chest, adrenaline pulsing through your veins as you stood in front of his door. You hated it, how he was shutting you out. You hated the way he’d turned cold again, like you were the one who had started the fire.

No. You weren’t going to let him do this again.

You balled your fist and knocked hard.

The sound echoed in the quiet hallway, and you waited, breath held. Seconds passed.

Nothing.

A sharp pang of frustration flared inside you. You were done with him pretending like everything was fine, like he could just freeze you out.

You knocked again. Harder this time.

“Caleb!” you called out, your voice sharper than you intended.

Finally, the door cracked open. Caleb stood there, shirt untucked, hair ruffled, his expression unreadable, like he’d been trying to shut the world out, and now you were barging in without permission.

“Can I help you?” His voice was flat, colder than you expected. He wasn’t giving an inch, wasn’t letting you in.

But you couldn’t just walk away now. Not after everything that was left unsaid. You scoffed, shaking your head. “No. Not this time. Open the door.”

He hesitated, and for a split second, you thought he might shut you out entirely. But then, with a resigned sigh, he stepped back, just enough for you to walk in. You didn’t wait for an invitation, storming past him into the room, your heart pounding in your ears.

Caleb shut the door behind you but didn’t say anything. His eyes flickered to the ground, like he was trying to avoid facing you.

You hated it. You hated the way he kept looking away, the way he refused to confront what was standing between you.

“You can’t keep doing this,” you said, trying to steady your voice. You were close now, standing directly in front of him. The space between you felt too wide, too much like the years you’d spent apart.

“I’m not doing anything,” he said, but it didn’t sound like he believed it. He ran a hand through his hair, frustration clouding his features.

“Don’t give me that,” you snapped. “You are doing something. You’ve been doing something for years. You left, Caleb. You left, and you ignored me. You shut me out. Why did you leave, without any warning? Why did you ignore me?” The words were out before you could stop them, and the rawness in your voice made it all feel so much more real. Your chest tightened with each word, each question that came spilling out of your mouth.

For a long moment, Caleb didn’t answer. The room was thick with silence, both of you standing there, unsure of how to proceed. Then, finally, he sighed, his posture sagging like the weight of this conversation was too much for him to bear. “I left because of my family, pipsqueak. You know how demanding the jobs are in their industries,” His voice was softer now, tinged with something almost like regret, but it wasn’t enough to take away the sting of everything that had happened. “But being without you felt like hell. It hurt like hell. I couldn’t torture myself, knowing you were so far away, and I could only talk to you through text. I couldn’t—” His words trailed off, like they were caught in his throat.

You froze, heart suddenly painfully tight.

“So you shut me out instead?” you said, your voice trembling slightly. The hurt behind the words was almost unbearable.

“Yeah,” Caleb muttered, his eyes flickering toward the window. “I guess I thought it would be easier if I just… pretended you weren’t part of my life anymore. Pretended it didn’t matter.” He exhaled sharply. “But it was killing me, alright? Not being able to see you. Not being able to just… be near you. You’ve always been so damn important to me.”

You blinked, fighting the wave of emotion threatening to overwhelm you. His words were like a lifeline and a dagger at the same time. The vulnerability in his voice was hard to reconcile with the guy who had left, who had ignored you.

“So, what? You thought it would just be fine? That I wouldn’t care?” You took a step forward, your fists clenched at your sides, fighting the ache in your chest. “You broke me, Caleb. You broke us. You don’t get to just show up and expect everything to go back to how it was. I was going to confess to you!”

Caleb flinched, his gaze finally meeting yours. There was something in his eyes—guilt, regret, maybe even a trace of fear. He opened his mouth, but the words wouldn’t come out.

“I don’t know how to fix this,” he admitted, his voice low. Your heart twisted painfully, but you stood your ground. “Then why the hell are you letting it stay broken?”

For a long moment, Caleb didn’t answer. He just stood there, looking at you with something close to helplessness in his eyes. Then, almost as if he couldn’t fight it anymore, he took a step forward. His hand reached out, hesitant, like he was afraid you might pull away. But you didn’t. His fingers brushed against yours, gently, like he was testing the waters, but the moment you didn’t pull away, he closed the gap, cupping your cheek, his thumb grazing the edge of your jaw.

“Please, just get some sleep, okay?” he choked out quietly, his eyes focusing on your lips far too intent for it to be friendly. “It’s been a long night. I don’t want to argue with you anymore.”

masterlist

Taglist : @etsuniiru @kyokoyya @i-messed-up-big-time @firefly1103 @gracekerzzz @mcdepressed290 @sylusgirlie7

[cosmicalily]

ʚɞ "written by the aces" - a 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒚 𝒌𝒊𝒅𝒔 mini series by @cosmicalily ★ view series 𝓷𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓰𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 ʚɞ

୨ৎ 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝟐: 'attention' with best friend!lee minho ♡ 1kw | “you're starved for affection, and you need more attention." - '𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏' by the aces

ʚɞ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆: okay so fun fact the left photo in this header is actually a pic of a picnic i went on with my friend that i took off my pinterest (ee if you wanna look at it here's the link! my pinterest is my pride and joy). i've had this fic in my drafts for ages, i adore this song and it feels SO undeniably hyunjin, i hope you enjoy!! ʚɞ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: reader suffers from nightmares, overall angst, anxiety, minho is kind of a dick and can't express his feelings but dw everyone is happy in the end

“Do you want a pudding?”

You didn’t reply, staring into space from where you were sprawled across the couch. Minho shrugged, picking his own up and rifling around the drawer for a spoon.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” you stated.

Minho stopped in his tracks, the spoon he’d grabbed clattering onto the tiled kitchen floor almost comically, a stark contrast to the emotionless look on your face.

“What do you mean?” Minho picked up his spoon and ran a hand through his hair, walking towards where you were lying on the sofa. He moved to sit beside you, then thought better of it. He sat on the floor, looking up at you the way Soonie did when he wanted attention.

A tear rolled down your cheek, startling the both of you. 

“You’ve been out of the house before I wake up and you’re tired and go straight to bed when you get home. Half the time you don’t even spend the night here. Felix’s joking about staying over here when you’re at theirs, so he can get a nice bed and some quiet to himself while you pay the rent.”

Minho’s breath caught in his chest. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Yeah, well, maybe it's subconscious, or some shit. It’s not fair, though. I’m your best friend, and your roommate. I’m still doing your fucking laundry for you while you’re gone, even though you’re not here to cook for me, like our deal was. It’s so cold and quiet at night, and my nightmares have been worse. You know they get worse when you’re not here, Minho.”

He did know. He knew all of it. He knew what he was doing, he knew it was hurting you.

But why did he keep letting himself drift from you?

He knew why he did that, too.

“Well, if you’re not gonna talk to me, I’m going to bed. Enjoy your fucking pudding, Lee Minho. Turn the lights off when you’re done, and hang up your own laundry. I’m done.” You stood up, storming off to your bedroom, slamming the door.

He’d fucked it all up.

Three hours later, still in the same position on the living room floor, Minho heard crying.

It was quiet, and sounded muffled, which could’ve been the door, sure, but he was certain it was because you were trying to conceal it. Maybe the work of a pillow or your fluffy blanket, the one his cats were almost always perched on. He knew why.

The reason you’d found a roommate in the first place was because of your nightmares. You couldn’t sleep most nights, interrupted every few hours by vivid thoughts, a tight chest, and tears streaming down your face. Thoughts that wouldn’t fade, no matter how many TikToks you watched, how many cups of tea you sipped. Minho was your best friend, and he knew. He offered to move in. He comforted you at night.

He sacrificed a peaceful apartment on his own with his cats, enjoying his own company. He did it all for you, although he’d protest that it wasn’t a sacrifice at all.

But recently, since he’d been away so much, your sleep had been worse. In fact, you were pretty sure you were running on negative hours of sleep at this point. The worst part was, he wasn’t even busy. He just found excuses to be out of the house, out of your sight.

Minho knocked on your door.

“Are you fully dressed? Say something if you need to like, put something on.”

You didn’t reply, trying to suppress the hiccups that were slipping out of your throat.

“Alright, I’m coming in-oh, God.”

He’d never seen you cry like this before. Your cheeks were puffy and red, eyes glistening, still trickling with tears. Your breaths were uneven and shallow. He wanted to scoop you up and kiss every single part of you, even after the tears stopped, and then hold you forever.

“It’s not…a…nightmare,” you whispered between gasps. “I know…what…you’re thinking.”

“What's the matter then, baby?” Minho sat down beside you, rubbing circles into your cheek softly. He felt the way your cheeks burned at the nickname, biting back a smile.

“Missed you. I’m not good at being angry…I’m just sad. I can’t sleep, and I don’t want to rely on you so much…it’s not fair to you, and I feel bad-”

“Who said it’s not fair?”

“Well, I just thought-”

“I offered to move in with you. I knew what I was signing up for. I’m not sick of you, Y/N.”

You swallowed. “I thought you were fed up. That’s why you…kept avoiding me.”

“God, no. I preferred it when you were angry and blaming me earlier, Y/N, it made me feel less of an asshole, weirdly. I just…my feelings towards you have been a lot lately, and I didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

“That sounds like a very polite way of saying ‘Wow Y/N, you’re driving me fucking insane and I don’t want to be near you’,” you pouted. “Just tell me what’s going on, Minho-”

“I like you.”

Your heart thumped so hard you were sure he could hear it. Your hand moved on its own, pulling him down beside you. He landed awkwardly, then shuffled his limbs so he was leaning on his elbows, face above yours, eyes locked.

“I like you too,” you whispered. “That’s why I was scared I’d lost you for good.”

“I thought I’d lost you too, when you yelled at me earlier. You don’t usually cuss so much, baby, it scared me.”

“You called me that earlier. I like it.”

“Yeah? I’ll keep calling you that, baby, as long as you slap the shit out of me if I ever so much as ignore you again. I’m here, you know that right? No matter what. I’ll always be a friend.” he paused, biting his lip, not wanting to push further.

“Definitely not as a friend. You can’t just confess like that and play it off. No, say it properly,” you scolded, scrunching your nose playfully.

Minho rolled his eyes, feigning annoyance, but you didn’t miss the way his ears turned pink. “I’ll always be a friend, roommate, the best pasta chef in the univers-”

“Lee Minho.”

“-and yours.”

taglist: @hyunjiiza @velvetmoonlght @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @btch8008s @yaniluvs @ellemir2404 @bellarellasstuff @starsinagreenskyxx @ashtxrie @pigeonseatmayo @modesttiger @woozarts - comment, dm or send an ask to be added!

[multi-stays]

When Comfort Is Due

Paring: BangChan X GN!Reader

Genre: Fluff/Flash Fiction

Summary: Reader is exhausted from crying all day and needs cuddles

Note: It’s short and not proofread

What seemed like the worst day ever had finally come to an end when you stepped through the door to your apartment. You didn't know how your day could get any worse than it had already been, with your hair stuck to your face. The worst headache imaginable had just started and your nose was on fire. Your eyes seemed so dry for how long you had been sobbing and all you wanted was to lie in your man's arms.

You threw your stuff on the couch, washed your face, and got into your comfort PJs. When you opened the door to your shared bedroom, to your surprise Chan wasn't there. Upon further investigation, Chan wasn't at the house at all and your heart was hurting more than ever. Tears started to well up in your eyes again and the pounding of your head matched your heart's pace. He was always home before you but now on the day you need him most, he's gone. Withought saying anything to you, he left and that hurt your overthinking mind most of all. On a normal day when things weren't shit, you'd think logically and figure out what happened but not tonight. Everything came down on you at once and Chan became the person to blame for you having a bad day. It wasn't fair but in the moment it felt good and rational thinking was gone.

Fuck you

you don't fucking love me and I need you right now

It's ok

You texted it without thinking much and turned off your phone to continue crying on his pillow.

About fifteen minutes had passed when you heard the front door click open. A little rustling here and there then it went quiet. No footsteps, no breathing, no door opening to your room, just his arms wrapping around you. You knew you couldn't pretend to be asleep seeming it had only been a few minutes. He was fully embracing you without a question and your sniffling still hadn't subsided. When you positioned yourself comfortably in his arms and clung to his chest, he swung your legs across his.

The slow rocking and humming from his chest said he already knew it was rough. You never had to explain anything to Chan he just already knew. He kicked off his slippers which startled you for a second, making you sit up.

“Lie back down Baby that was just me,” he said with a hum of his soothing voice. With his slippers off and you to him like a sticker on a hot car, he pulled up the cool fuzzy blankets. Up to his belly just enough to cover your shoulders. After he fluffed up a pillow behind his head, his hands returned to you. One, on your arm tracing soft circles on the delicate skin. The other, picking wet hair off of your face so you could breathe and rubbing your cheeks to dry them.

The only thing keeping you from crying all over again was the feeling of his hums through his chest. Deep and prominent going into you and giving you something to focus on. If you start crying it's hard for you to stop. There are different types of crying and yours is from bottling it up for so long that when it spills open your not only getting the emotions from today, but also from ever other day that you decided not to cry.

“I’m sorry,” you said with a broken voice, hoarse from all the crying. “I know Baby, just try to relax. Even if you're not sleeping not crying is better, hmm?” small pats to your pounding head caused a wince to escape your lips.

“What's wrong!?” Chan said looking down at you in distress.

“Its nothing, I just have a headache.”

“You should have told me, I'll go get you something.”

Before you could protest and whine that you’ll be cold, lonely even, he left. With the sound of his feet getting quieter with each step onto the hard floor.

“Sit up,” you heard Chan say. To your surprise you fell asleep and only noticed when Chan woke you up with a glass of water in his hand. He motioned for you to hold out your hand and gave you a small green pill. You took the cold glass and downed the pill without a problem. Water tasted so good after crying with the refreshing taste leaving you in a better mood. Chan took the empty glass and set it on the stand beside the bed so he could cradle you.

“Scooch,” he said making a shooing motion with his hands. You moved over to the other side of the bed which was cold and the blankets were still tucked in. “Nuh uh uh,” Chan said pulling you back into his chest and resting his chin on the top of your head. Now instead of his chest, you could feel and hear the gentle sound of him breathing through his throat. His arm was clutched around you tightly in case you tried to escape and his breath surrounded you, filling up your senses.

You knew he wasn't asleep cause he never fell asleep that quickly, if at all. “I love you, Chan” you whispered so softly that even your ears could barely pick it up. But in the darkness a loud “I love you too Baby,” cut through. Your suspicions were put to rest, he was awake. Knowing that made you feel safer in your little nest made of his body.

When you tried to move your hand out and reach your phone, he wrapped his leg around you and swung you to the other side of the bed where he was just lying. With your spots now switched, you were at the edge of the bed and his leg hung over you with his foot off the bed. His big nose was still just right above you and the slow sounds of his breathing found you again. It's weird to be so obsessed but you don't know until you've felt it, how addicting it can be.

Your mind was still set in crying mode so any wrong move and you could blow. Knowing this, Chan always just took the approach of, he should be there. Do not ask questions and try to understand what you need in the moment. When he saw you in bed with your head in his pillow that told him you needed him and him only. Make you feel small and safe with his body around you saying “nothing will ever touch you again, not even in words.”

Chan also knew it sounded stupid if said out loud but comforting you and cuddling you when you needed him, made him feel special. His dad instincts were always there and you needing his shoulder to cry on didn't help it. Not just anyone it had to be his shoulder and his soothing words that made you better. Your texts hurt him but they were fake. Cries for help are what Chan saw, not insults.

It didn't take long for you to be passed out in his nest. He was still awake but your body had gone limp and your shivers from crying had stopped. A sigh left Chan and he looked over at the clock that read 1:30. Normally he would stay awake for longer but you needed him so he stayed. Let himself drift to sleep with you safe in his arms

[joonberriess]

⊹₊ ⋆ “he love how i ride it, hop on that dick i make him get excited,”

TAGS — dilf!jk, riding, creampie, dirty talk, slight fingering (brief lol), reader’s a soft good girl, praise kink(?), brief masturbation (male), jk is obsessed with his bby, riding it good wooo, reader’s like a shy good girl uwu, nasty flip-flopping sex, daddy kink to the MAX, she’s subby but kinda bratty, jk has a high sex drive LMAO, mentions of future pregnancy at the end

WORD COUNT — 1.9 k

Jungkook’s insatiable when it comes to you–even more now that you two started sleeping with each other. You didn’t mind at first until you realized it was a bit harder to keep up with him and his high sex drive. He fucked like a man on death row, like he was never going to see you again or something. You were left fucked out but positively bruised.

How Hani hasn’t walked in on you two yet is still a mystery to you with the amount of times you two go at it. If you were down in the kitchen, Jungkook had you on the counter spread out within seconds of walking in. Watching a movie with Jungkook? That won’t last long, you’re lucky if you even get to see the beginning of it. It gets worse when Hani says she’s going out for the day (he will NOT let you out of his sight at all).

Needless to say you weren’t complaining about the situation, you were just as needy as Jungkook was.

“Hey baby.” Jungkook pops his head into your room with a tiny smile, “What you up to?”

You stopped typing on your laptop and spun around in your chair to greet him with a soft hum, “Finishing up this essay, ‘s due by the end of the week.” You mumble and look down to see him holding something from behind the door, “What you got there?”

“A snack for my hard-working girl.” He grins and steps in, holding up the piping hot bowl of ramen that instantly has your mouth watering. “Figured you could use something since you’ve been cooped up in here for days now baby.” He makes his way over and sets the food on the side table.

“Thank you.” You shyly reply and take his hands in yours, “You’re the best..” Jungkook squeezes your hands gently, “How was your day? I didn’t see you when I came home from class.” You run your thumb over his knuckles tenderly.

“Boring without you baby. Had you on my mind the entire time.” He grins mischievously, and you already know where this is heading. “Couldn’t stop thinking ‘bout your pretty little lips and sweet little noises.” He slips one of his hands up to cup your cheek, thumb stroking over your soft pillowy lips.

Your eyes flutter coyly and you lean into his touch, “..missed you too.” You mumble out and let your eyes drop down to his chest where the top two buttons sit unbuttoned, “Missed you lots.” You breathily whisper out.

Jungkook must notice how glazed over your eyes look because he smiles at you deviously and chuckles quietly, “Yeah baby? You were thinkin’ bout daddy too?” He says as he tugs your chair and makes it roll over in front of him, “Tell me what you were thinking about sweetheart.”

“You. Wanted to..wanted you daddy,” you softly mewl, “didn’t like how we couldn’t finish this morning, you left me hanging daddy.” You press your thighs together, rubbing them slowly as a soft pout forms on your lips.

Jungkook licks his lips hungrily, “Baby’s upset she didn’t get to cum in the morning? Didn’t I make you cum two times before that baby? What a greedy girl I got, needs more than my fingers in her slutty little pussy.” He smacks your thighs apart, “Open up for me, don’t be a brat.”

You whine quietly and let your thighs fall open for him, shivering when he slides his hand up, “Daddy…it-it isn’t fair! Y-You said that you will always make me cum however many times I want.” You yelp when he smacks your inner thigh.

“Don’t get mouthy with me baby, where did my sweet girl go? You’ll take what I give you won’t you baby?” He says as his eyes narrow, “Unless you’re being a bad girl?”

Your heart beats faster and you shake your head vehemently, “I’m not a bad girl daddy, ‘m a good girl.”

“Then act like it.” Jungkook pulls back and stands, “Since my baby’s so desperate for my cock why don’t you prep yourself, get you nice and stretched with your fingers. Go on,” he sits on your bed, legs wide apart as he man spreads and leans back.

A small whimper threatens to escape your throat as you watch him, you can feel your mouth salivating as drool threatens to slip past your lips. “Go on.” He nods, “Don’t keep me waiting.” With that you reach down to slip your cotton shorts down your thighs, your panties come down with them but you let them dangle around one ankle as you bring your knees up on the chair, spreading your legs wide as your pussy’s out for his pleasure.

“There you go baby,” Jungkook darkly mutters as he unbuckles his own slacks, “touch yourself for me.” He licks his lips.

A shudder runs through your body, goosebumps erupting all over your body as you shyly bring your hand down to part your slicked up pussy lips. He groans low when you show off your puckered up hole shiny with slick, he’s got his own cock out of his boxers, hand steadily stroking himself. “Look at you,” he sighs, “so messy.”

You let your fingers dip low at your hole, you tease yourself a tiny bit by slipping the tip of your finger in before you slip it back out and circle them around your clit. You softly moan his name and repeat your actions from before a few more times until your pussy is slicked up and dripping. “Go on baby, slip ‘em inside and get yourself ready for my cock.” He purrs.

“Daddy.” You whine out and curl your fingers as you stuff your pussy full with your ring and middle finger. “Don’t wanna stretch myself out, wanna have you inside already.” You let your head loll back as you speed your fingers up with a quiet whine.

Slicked up noises filled the space between you, slick dribbles down between your ass cheeks and on to the desk chair. Your fingers are soaked and your poor clit throbs from lack of attention. This wouldn’t be happening if Jungkook wasn’t making you tease yourself. “Daddy please,” you whimper, “wanna ride you.”

“Yeah baby? Gonna do all the work and let daddy lay there while you use my cock to get off?” Jungkook groans as he speeds up his movements, “Fuck, get over here baby. Sit on my cock,” he slides the rest of his pants right off, “c’mon.” He coos.

You eagerly let your fingers slip out and you make your way over to him, happily climbing over as you crawl up the bed and over his lap. “Please daddy,” you beg softly and settle on to his lap nicely.

“Go on, you know what to do baby.” Jungkook smacks one of your ass cheeks, “Show me you’re my good girl.” He grins.

You grip the base of his cock with one hand and lift your hips up to position your pussy over the head of his cock, “So fucking wet,” he mumbles and watches with hooded eyes, “like that baby, there you go.” He bites his lip.

Your lips part in a silent moan as you slowly inch yourself downwards on his cock, the stretch is a bit painful but not by much. When you sit fully on his lap you’re eager to have your way with him right off the bat. You set your hands on his chest for balance and begin grinding your hips in slow sensual motions.

“Shit.” Jungkook grunts as his head falls back on the pillow, “ ‘s good, pussy so warm and wet ‘round my cock. Got you drippin’ all over me.” He rolls his hips upward as if he wants to slip in deeper somehow.

The shift has you whining and grinding down on him harder, his cock just presses up against all your sweet spots just right. You can feel stars bursting behind your eyelids as you lean your head back.

“Daddy,” you whimper out and grind faster, “please—feels so good, can feel it here,” you set a hand over your lower abdomen, “so deep.” Your words come out slurred.

Jungkook cusses under his breath when you hears you talk like that, “Oh fuck baby,” he whispers, “look at you, desperate little thing you are. You like the way my cock fills you baby? Fills you up just right don’t it?” He runs his hands over your soft cheeks before he smacks both hard and jiggles them in his hands.

You nod your head rapidly, muffling your own whimpers as you begin bouncing in his lap. His cock strikes your g-spot with every bounce, your thighs shake and loud smacks fill the entire room. The sounds you two make are fucking filthy—wet, messy, hot—the bed frame begins rocking into the wall.

“Daddy please,” you bring his hands up to wrap around your waist, “ ‘m getting tired, can’t do it anymore.” You whimper out as your bouncing comes to a stop. You lay down on top of him, idly grinding back and forth.

“You want daddy to fuck you sweetheart? Need me to take over and fuck you so good?” Jungkook moans as he turns his face to hide in your neck, peppering kisses all over.

“Please.” You whisper back and turn to slot your lips against his in a sloppy little kiss.

Jungkook sighs into the kiss and readjusts his grip on your waist before he begins fucking up into your battered pussy. Loud fopping noises resonate as he fucks you like a animal. You bury your hands in his hair and grip it tightly as he plows you from below.

“Baby,” he moans out, “feels so fucking good, gripping me so tight.” He whispers in your ear over the loud squelching noises your pussy makes when his cock slams into you over and over again.

“Mm..! T-There, right there,” you beg softly and meet him thrust for thrust, “gonna cum daddy.” You reach behind to move one of his hands, “Want you to touch me here daddy.” You tug it towards your aching clit.

Jungkook growls low and his thumb immediately finds your clit, rubbing the tender bud side to side rapidly. His hips smack into your ass over and over as he sends you hurtling towards your much awaited orgasm.

“J-Jungkook..!” You cry out and stiffen, your back arches and hips raise as you cum hard all over him and his stupidly perfect cock. “S-So good,” you gasp out.

He grabs your ass tight with one hand as he continues fucking into you until he’s coming too. “Shit baby,” he gasps and rolls his hips slowly, “shit..” He chuckles breathily and lays there blinking slowly, “Made a mess.”

You lay tiredly on him and bury your face in his neck, “Mm..” Your drained, that fucking really took the life out of you, “I didn’t get to eat my ramen.” You mumble out.

“Let’s clean up and take a nap, yeah baby? You worked too hard today on your essay, take some time off.” Jungkook whispers and presses a kiss to your temple. You nod to his words and head over to the bathroom together.

You miss the telltale signs of your watch that sits on your dresser beeping, next to it lies your open pack of birth control, something you completely forget about even after the nap, and then the day after that, and after that…

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @frieschan

[jkwrites-m]

Another Time (3)

Pairing: Jungkook x female reader

Genre: soulmates, past life, thriller, smut, fluff, angst

Word Count: 7.5k

Summary: When Y/N and Jungkook begin sharing vivid dreams of each other, their connection feels too real to ignore. When tragedy from a past life begins bleeding into the present, they’re forced to unravel the mystery of love, betrayal, and fate.

Warnings: MDNI, Explicit, 18+, fluff, angst, emotional child abuse, shitty ass parents, cursing, fighting, sexual tension, hurt, alcohol consumption, cigarettes, mentions of wounds, mentions of death, smut explicit: lots of praise, oral (giving & receiving), riding, unprotected sex (pls use protection irl! this is fiction!) 

Notes: majority is written in jungkook's pov

MASTERPOST ♡ MASTERLIST ♡

prev ♡ next

═══════

Her voice cracked, not just from anger, but from exhaustion, weeks of bottled-up frustration leaking out in sharp, hurt syllables.

The apartment felt like a pressure cooker. Even the air between them crackled like a live wire. Y/N stood in the middle of the living room, fists clenched at her sides, her eyes sharp as glass. Jungkook, halfway through taking off his coat, froze at the tone in her voice.

“You left the fucking dishes in the sink again, Jungkook,” she snapped. 

Jungkook exhaled slowly, dropping the coat over the back of the couch. “I got home late. I was exhausted. I was gonna get to it this morning.”

She turned away, blinking fast, not wanting him to see how much it hurt to be the only one holding things together.

“You always say that. But you never do.”

He clenched his jaw, trying to keep his cool, but the way she looked at him (like a stranger) shattered something in him.

He rubbed his face, already tired, the stress of the day sitting heavy on his shoulders. “Can you not come at me the second I walk in the door?”

“I wouldn’t have to if you actually pulled your weight around here!” she shot back. “I cook. I clean. I fold your laundry. I’m tired, Jungkook. I’m fucking tired.”

He bristled. “I’ve been under a shitload of pressure at work. You know that. I’ve told you.”

He stepped forward instinctively, then stopped himself, unsure if his presence would soothe or spark more fury.

“You’ve told me, sure. But you haven’t shown me that you care about anything going on in this house,” Y/N hissed. 

He crossed his arms, voice lowering with tension. “You think I don’t care? Seriously?”

“I think you care more about playing babysitter to your new coworker than helping your fiancée at home,” she bit, pacing now.

 Jungkook’s jaw tightened. “His name’s Jimin. He’s new, and he’s shy. I’m the only one who makes him feel welcome. That’s not a fucking crime.”

For a moment, the silence between them grew so loud, it drowned out even the ticking clock above the kitchen counter.

 “You’ve spent more nights out drinking with him than with me lately,” she spat. “So yeah, maybe it feels like you’re not trying.”

“That’s not fair,” Jungkook muttered, taking a step closer. “This isn’t just about chores, is it?” 

“No,” she whispered, eyes watering now. “It’s about feeling like I’m doing this alone. Like I live with a ghost of someone I used to feel close to.” 

Silence fell between them, sharp and jagged.

Y/N turned on her heel and stormed toward the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

For a while, the apartment stayed quiet. Jungkook sat on the couch, head in his hands, replaying the argument like a broken tape. Eventually, he stood, walking to the bedroom door. He paused, his hand on the knob, eyes closed as if choosing his words carefully. 

The door creaked open

═══════

I woke up with a jolt, my chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. For a second, I thought the echo of Y/N’s voice, sharp and heartbroken, yelling at me over dirty dishes and a forgotten trash bag was still ringing through the room. But it wasn’t. It was just the quiet hum of the morning Seoul traffic far below my apartment window.

I ran a hand through my disheveled hair, my heart pounding as if I’d actually fought with her, like I actually stood there in that kitchen with guilt clawing up my throat. The weight of the dream lingered, like steam refusing to fade from a mirror. And the worst part was… I had been mean. Cold. Defensive. And now, even though it was just a dream, the aftertaste was sharp. “Shit,” I whispered to the empty room, throwing the covers off. My feet hit the cold floor with a thud. “I need to make it up to her.” Without even thinking, I grabbed my phone and fired off a text.

Jungkook: Are you awake? I had a weird dream and I kind of want to see you. Can I pick you up? I’m taking you to breakfast.

I didn’t wait for a reply. I just moved, brushing my teeth, throwing on one of my softer oversized hoodies and grey jeans. I didn’t try to look too perfect because I wanted to be comfortable, sweet, and non-threatening. I wanted to see her laugh, maybe roll her eyes at one of my dumb jokes. I needed her close, even if I didn’t fully understand why the dream had rattled me so much. By the time I pulled up in front of her apartment, she was already standing by the curb. Her hair was pulled up in a casual ponytail, and she was wrapped in one of those oversized scarves that made her look extra cuddly in the fall breeze.

She slid into the passenger seat, cheeks slightly pink from the wind. “Hey.”

I smiled instantly. “Hey you.” “You okay?” she asked, eyeing me. “Yeah. Better now.” She raised an eyebrow but didn’t press, and that alone made my chest ache. She was always like that- giving me space, even when she didn’t have to. It made me want to pull her into a thousand hugs and never let go.

We ended up at a quaint little diner tucked away in one of the older neighborhoods I liked to drive through at night when I needed to think. The place smelled like maple syrup and coffee, with worn red vinyl booths and a jukebox humming a soft tune from the corner. It felt like a memory neither of us knew we had until we walked in and sat across from each other.

“You look really pretty today,” I said, casual but my eyes lingering. Y/N blushed and rolled her eyes, trying to hide the smile creeping onto her face. I grinned, satisfied.

Our conversation drifted from small talk to little flirtations with me reaching for her hand across the table, gently teasing her when she got syrup on her chin. I wiped it away with my thumb and then licked it without breaking eye contact. “Sweet,” and she nearly choked on her orange juice.

After pancakes and shared laughter, Y/N leaned back and crossed her arms with a thoughtful look. “Okay, now what?”

I shrugged. “Whatever you want.”

She tilted her head. “There’s this arcade a few miles away. I passed it last week. It looked retro.”

My eyes lit up. “Say less. Let’s go.”

═══════

I tugged Y/N gently toward the neon glow of the skee-ball lanes, fingers laced with hers like we had been sewn together in another lifetime. The air was thick with a buttery blend of popcorn and prize dreams. She rolled her eyes at the way I kept stealing glances at her lips, but her cheeks betrayed her, flushing, rosy and warm, flushed by more than the arcade’s flashing lights. “You know, if I win, you owe me a kiss,” I grinned, already lining up my first ball. “Fair warning.” “Excuse me?” she raised an eyebrow, shifting her weight to one hip. “That’s not how skee-ball works.” “It is when the prize is you.”  throwing the ball with a dramatic flick that landed me a perfect 50. “Oh my god,” Y/N muttered, laughing as she turned to her machine. “You’re insufferable.” “Hot and insufferable,” you corrected. “Your favorite combo.” She ignored me (horribly), grinning as she focused on her own throw. But I know she could feel my eyes glued to her, trailing from her jawline to her shoulder and lingering at her waist. I stepped behind her after her second throw, gently placing my hands on her hips. “Let me show you a trick,” voice low, by her ear. “It’s all in the angle.” “Jungkook,” she hissed, blushing, “we’re in public.” “Yeah, and I don’t care,” I whispered. “You’re gorgeous. And I want to be close to you.” Our eyes locked, breath catching in my throat as her back pressed lightly into my chest. For a heartbeat, the sounds of the arcade melted away. Déjà vu slammed into me so hard, making me jolt, causing her to nearly drop the ball. I turned her around quickly, eyes wide. “Did you just- did you feel that?” She blinked. “You too?” I reached for her hand instinctively. “I don’t know what’s happening, but being with you like this... it’s like I’ve done it a hundred times. Like we’ve played this game before, in another life.” “Exactly,” Y/N said, breathless. “This place, you, me... it’s like I’ve lived this moment already.” Our faces inched closer again, too much, too fast, until she pulled back with a gasp. “We should probably go,” she said, barely able to meet my eyes. I nodded, jaw tight, heart racing. “Yeah. Let’s go.” We left our game unfinished, ticket count forgotten, our hands clasped tightly like a secret.

═══════

When she slipped into the restroom to freshen up, I waited by the change machine. That’s when my phone buzzed. An unknown number.

“Hello?”

“Jungkook?” Madame Lillian’s voice was urgent. “I’m sorry to call you like this. I had to. I saw something. Something terrible.”

I froze. “What do you mean?” “I can’t say much. I’ve already broken too many rules. But it involves you and Y/N. I don’t want to scare her, but you need to look into the year before you both were born... and the date of the day before you met. Something happened. Something tied to your past lives. Look into the Seoul National Library archives. And Jungkook...” I swallowed, hard. “Yes?” “Be careful. Some endings have endings worse than the first.” Y/N returned moments later, smiling, completely unaware. I slid my phone into my pocket, putting on the best smile I could muster. “Ready?” she asked. “More than ever.”

═══════

I sat down on the couch putting something mindless on the tv, my heart still thudding from the call but when I turned and saw Y/N, everything else quieted. She stood barefoot in the middle of my living room, wearing one of my oversized shirts, sleeves swallowing her hands. Her damp hair was tucked behind her ears, and her skin glowed under the soft apartment light like it had been kissed by moonlight. I stood up and crossed the room slowly, like if I moved too fast she might vanish. “You’re really trying to kill me, huh?” I murmured, eyes roaming her figure with reverence. “You have no idea how good you look right now.” Y/N smiled, shy but knowing. “I think I have a feeling.” I reached for her hands sliding around her waist, thumbs brushing the hem of her shirt resting on her thighs. “I’m serious,” I whispered. “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to kiss someone this much.” “So why aren’t you?” I didn’t need to be told twice.

The kiss started slow, gentle, searching. But quickly, I pulled her closer, one sliding up her back, the other fisting lightly in the fabric at her waist. Her fingers found my jaw, then tangled in my hair. When I pulled away to catch my breath, my lips grazed her ear. “You’re so soft, baby. So perfect.” Y/N whimpered quietly at the praise. I kissed her again, deeper now, and stumbled backward until her calves hit the edge of the couch. She sank down and tugged me with her, my knees hitting the cushions on either side of her as our mouths met again. “You always this flirty when you’re tired?” she teased, breathless. “Only with you.” My lips traveled to her neck, my voice raspy against her skin. “I’m trying to take my time. You deserve to be worshipped.” Her thighs squeezed around my hips in response. The moment grew thick with heat and sweetness- nothing rushed, just the slow burn of something inevitable. Fingers exploring, lips mapping memory. 

They had all night. And I was going to make every second count.

═══════

The soft glow of twilight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a warm amber hue over the cozy bedroom. 

I sat in front of her on the bed, my hair tousled from a day of playful banter and flirtatious glances. 

Across from me, Y/N leaned against the headboard, in one of my shirts that clung to her, hair cascading over her shoulders in loose waves. The air between us crackled with anticipation because tonight was the night we would finally explore the depths of their desire for each other.

My deep brown eyes locked onto hers, lips curling into a mischievous smile. 

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” My voice was low, almost a whisper, but it carried a weight that made Y/N’s heart flutter. 

She blushed, her cheeks tinged with a rosy hue, and bit her lip, her playful nature shining through. “Only if you think so,” she teased, her voice light and teasing.

I chuckled, rising from the bed to close the distance between us. “I don’t just think it,” I murmured, fingers brushing the sleeves of the shirt. “I know it.”

With gentle hands, I took off her (well technically mine) shirt, throwing it somewhere in the room. Y/N’s skin was smooth like porcelain, her full breasts rising and falling with her quickening breath. My gaze lingered on her, admiration evident. 

“Perfect,” my thumbs tracing the curve of her hips. Y/N shivered under the touch, her eyes fluttering closed as she leaned into me. 

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she whispered, her fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me closer.

Our lips met in a slow, deliberate kiss, a dance of tongues and soft moans that deepened the connection between us. My hands roamed her body, worshipping every inch of her slender frame causing her to moan quietly. 

“You’re so responsive,” I murmured against her neck, breathing hot and heavy. “Such a good girl for me.” 

Y/N gasped at my words, her body arching into my touch. “Jungkook,” she moaned, her voice thick with desire. “You’re making me-”

“Making you what?” I teased, lips trailing down her collarbone, my hands cupping her breasts. “Tell me, baby.” Y/N’s head fell back, her eyes squeezed shut as she surrendered to the sensations. 

“Making me want you,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. I smirked, my thumbs brushing her nipples, watching them harden under my touch. 

“Good,” I growled. “Because I’ve been wanting you for far too long.”

I knelt before her, my hands sliding down her thighs, pushing her legs apart gently. Y/N’s breath hitched as she realized my intent, her hands gripping the sheets. 

“Jungkook, what-” Her words were cut off by a sharp gasp as my lips pressed against her clothed cunt, my tongue teasing her through the thin fabric of her panties. 

“Fuck,” she moaned, her hips bucking involuntarily. “You’re- you’re so good - oh my god.”

I hummed against her, the vibrations sending shivers through her body. “You taste amazing,” I praised, my hands gripping her thighs as I pulled her panties down slowly. 

“So wet for me already. Such a good girl.” Y/N’s moans grew louder, her body trembling as my tongue delved deeper, fingers joining in to pleasure her. 

“Jungkook,” she cried, her voice breaking. “I- I can’t- ”

“Shh,” I soothed, pulling away just enough to look up at her. “Let go, baby. I’ve got you.” My words must have been the push she needed, as she surrendered to the pleasure, her body arching off the bed as her orgasm crashed over her. “Fuck, Jungkook,” she panted, her hands tangling in my hair. “That was- ”

“Perfect,” I finished, rising to kiss her deeply, letting her taste herself. “Your turn,” she whispered, her hands guiding me back onto the bed. I layed down, relaxed but, honestly, really eager. 

Y/N straddled me, her hands tracing the contours of my chest, her lips brushing against mine. “You’re so handsome,” she murmured, her fingers drifting lower, unbuttoning my pants.

“You’re going to make me blush,” I teased, watching her move down the bed as she slid my pants down, revealing my cock. I watched Y/N’s eyes widened, her breath catching. “Wow,” she whispered, her fingers wrapping around me, staring at me. “You’re- you’re so big.”

I groaned, my head falling back against the pillow. “You’re so fucking perfect,” I praised, my hands guiding her mouth down. I saw Y/N hesitated for a moment, before leaning down, her lips brushing the tip of my cock. 

My breath hitched, hands immediately tangling in her hair as she took me into her mouth, her tongue swirling around me. “Fuck, Y/N, you’re amazing. So fucking good.”

Her moans vibrated against me, the sound sending me over the edge. “Baby, if you keep that up- ” my words were cut off by a sharp gasp as she deepened her rhythm, her hands gripping my thighs. “Such a good girl,” I praised, voice thick with desire. “Taking me so well.”

After a few more moments, Y/N pulled away, her lips swollen and glistening. “Let’s both feel good,” she whispered, positioning herself above me, her hands guiding me to her entrance. 

My eyes locked onto hers, hands gripping her hips hard as she lowered herself onto me, taking me inch by inch. “Fuck,”  I groaned, my head falling back as I filled her completely. “You’re so tight. So perfect.”

Y/N moaned, her hands bracing against my chest as she began to move, her hips rocking in a slow, deliberate rhythm. “You feel so good inside me,” she panted, her eyes fluttering closed as she surrendered to the sensation. “Jungkook, I- ”

“You’re doing so well, baby,” I praised, my hands gripping her hips tighter, guiding her movements. “Such a good girl for me. So beautiful” My words must’ve fueled her desire, her movements growing more urgent, her moans filling the room. “Jungkook,” she cried, her body trembling on the edge. “I’m- ”

“Let go, baby,” I urged, my voice hoarse with need. “Come for me.” My words were her undoing, her body convulsing as her orgasm washed over her, her walls clenching around me. 

I groaned, as I started thrusting upward to follow her, spilling into her. “Fuck, baby,” I panted, my hands pulling her down into a kiss, feeling our hearts pounding in unison.

As my breathing slowed, I pulled her into my arms, pressing my lips against her forehead. “You’re incredible,” I murmured in awe. Y/N smiled, her head resting on my chest, her fingers tracing the tattoos on my skin. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she teased, her voice soft and content.

I chuckled, my arms tightening around her. “First time’s always special,” I warmly said. Y/N looked up at me, her eyes shining with love and desire. “I can’t wait to see what’s next,” she whispered, her lips brushing mine.

As the last rays of twilight faded, we lay entwined, our hearts beating as one, the promise of more nights like this lingering in the air. Our first time had been everything I’d hoped for: passionate, intimate, and filled with praise and adoration. And as we drifted off to sleep, my arms tightened protectively around her.

═══════

The morning sun streamed through the gauzy curtains, painting the floor in soft gold as Jungkook stood in the kitchen, apron on, hair messy but determined. In this dream, everything felt warm, not just the lighting, but the intention behind each movement he made. 

He’d been up since dawn, cleaning every corner of their shared home with a kind of desperate affection: vacuuming, scrubbing, folding, polishing like each task was a word in the apology he couldn't say out loud.

The house sparkled by the time he placed a vase of orchids (her favorite) on the kitchen table. The breakfast he’d made was simple but heartfelt: toast, eggs, fresh-cut fruit, and a steaming cup of coffee brewed just how she liked it. He stood back and waited, the anxiety bubbling in his chest as he heard the bedroom door creak open.

Y/N stepped into the clean space, blinking in surprise. The scent of lemon cleaner mingled with buttery toast, and her eyes found the flowers first, then him. “What... is all this?” she asked, soft and guarded.

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook said instantly. “I’ve been a shitty partner, and I know it. You didn’t overreact. I’ve been checked out, selfish, and caught up in work and not paying attention to you, or to us.”

Her lips parted, but no words came. He stepped forward.

“I need you to know it won’t be like that anymore. I want to show up. I want to be better. I even told Jimin I’m going to pull back on going out after work so much. It’s not fair to you.” His eyes searched hers. “You were right to be upset.”

A tear slid down her cheek, and she wiped it away, embarrassed. “I might’ve... overreacted a little too.”

“No,” he said firmly, stepping closer. “You didn’t. You were honest. You deserve someone who listens and carries the weight with you. Not someone who makes you feel alone in your own home.”

She let out a trembling laugh. “You really cleaned the entire apartment?”

He nodded. “Even behind the fridge.”

That earned him a real laugh, and then her arms were around him. He held her tight, feeling the tension ease from both their bodies.

They kissed, slow, forgiving, grateful, and the dream softened into warmth, not from the sun this time, but from the deep, mutual promise unspoken between them.

This time, he’d do better. And she knew he would.

═══════

I stared at the ceiling, the faint sunlight leaking through the blinds of his apartment doing little to ease the heavy pressure in my chest. Y/N left about thirty minutes ago to go home and shower. My fingers twitched where they lay on the sheets, the eerie fragments of the dream still latching onto me like shadows. The memories weren’t fading this time, they stuck to my skin, my bones, like truth. Raw. Real. My gut had told me for a while that the dreams were more than dreams. And Madame Lillian’s warning had only cemented it. Something terrible. Something old. Something me and Y/N hadn’t yet faced. I threw on a hoodie, grabbed my keys, and left the apartment with barely a sound. My fingers trembled as they gripped the steering wheel, the weight of inevitability coiling in my chest. I didn’t know what I expected to find, but I just couldn’t shake the pull toward the one place people went for answers no one had asked in decades: the library. The drive there was nearly silent save for the soft hum of tires against pavement. My heart beat loudly against my ribs. I tapped my fingers restlessly along the wheel at every red light, thoughts racing faster than my car. What if this was all real? What if there was a reason for their connection? Something tragic? Something unresolved? The library was a looming, solemn building of stone and glass that reminded me of an old cathedral. I paused before going in, chest heaving with nerves. For a second, I considered leaving. But Madame Lillian’s voice echoed in my mind: “Look into the year before you were born. Look at the date of the day before you met.” I had to know. Inside, the air was sterile, quiet, reverent. A young woman sat behind the information desk, glasses perched on her nose. She looked up and smiled politely when I approached. “Hi,” I said, voice low. “I’m… I’m looking to research newspaper archives. Um. From 1996.” The woman tilted her head. “Is there something specific you’re looking for?” “Murder cases,” I bluntly said, surprising even myself. “From the Seoul area.” Her eyes flickered with mild concern but nodded. “You’ll want the microfilm archive room. Down the hall, second door on your left. I’ll bring you what I can.” The archive room was dimly lit, the hum of the old machines filling the silence. I sat at one of the viewing desks, heart hammering in my ears. Within ten minutes, the librarian entered pushing a cart with multiple cases of reels. “These should cover all of 1996.” “Thank you,” I murmured, already rolling up my sleeves. What followed was two grueling hours of slow, exhausting scrolling. My eyes burned from the faded black-and-white text, my heart dipping every time I paused on a headline that wasn’t what I was looking for.

Until… There it was. The article was dated November 18, 1996. My blood ran cold. That was the exact date me and Y/N had first officially met. Engaged Couple Found Brutally Murdered In Their Apartment. Suspected Double Homicide. My hands shook as I continued to read. The article detailed that the couple had been engaged and set to marry in two months. Their names were eerily similar to our own, and the photos, though grainy, felt… familiar. The woman had been killed first, the article noted. Blunt force trauma and several stab wounds. There was evidence that the man was killed several hours later in a different room. Multiple stab wounds, signs of torture. As if he was being punished. The killer was never found. 

I sat back in the brittle wooden chair, elbows on my thighs, head in my hands. The library reel flickered quietly in the darkened microfilm room, but all I could hear was the thudding echo of my own pulse. Was this what Madame Lillian was warning me about? Was this really them? Were Y/N and I walking into the same fate, completely unaware? And why her first? 

A deep, aching sickness settled in my chest. My breathing turned shallow as my thoughts spiraled out in a hundred directions, each one darker than the last. Would I be forced to watch her suffer again? Was the universe sick enough to put us through the same tragedy twice? "I can’t lose her," I whispered to myself. "Not again." The terrifying thing was how real it all felt. Not like fiction or fear, but memory. A memory stored somewhere too deep to retrieve clearly, but heavy enough to shape my entire life. I’d spent so long wondering why no love ever lasted. Why I’d never felt truly safe with anyone else. And now the answer lay in front of me in dusty black ink: they were stolen from each other before they ever had the chance to live fully. Now, they were back, but time was ticking. My hands trembled as I stared at the date printed on the article again-  the same day we met. That couldn't be a coincidence. It felt orchestrated, planned. Like the universe trying to balance an old, unfinished equation. But what if it wasn’t just fate nudging them toward peace? What if something darker was chasing them to the same evil, reincarnated in a new form? “No one would believe this,” I muttered, bitterly. “I barely believe it.” I thought of Y/N’s smile, the way her eyes lit up when she laughed, how natural it had felt being wrapped around her the night before. The way she always looked at me like I was worth saving. And suddenly the fear turned into guilt. How could I protect her if I didn’t even understand what they were up against? A strangled breath escaped me. “What am I supposed to do?” I pulled out my phone and dialed Madame Lillian, desperate for anything- advice, comfort, clarity. But it rang once before cutting off completely. My jaw clenched. No answer. I called again. Nothing. I stared at the phone, jaw clenched, eyes wet. “God fucking damn it!!” She was avoiding him. Why now? I climbed into my car and sat for a while, numb. Then I drove home on autopilot, pulling into my space and slamming the door harder than necessary. Inside, the apartment was too quiet. I poured myself a shot of soju. Then another. Then a third. By the time I collapsed on the couch, the bottle was nearly empty. A cigarette dangled from my fingers, forgotten. I was going to lose her. Again. I buried my face in my hands, unable to stop the tears. And all I could think was: How the hell do I tell her?

I would have to look her in the eyes. And lie. Or worse… tell her the truth.

═══════

I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the phone in my hand. My thumb hovered over Y/N’s contact. I’d retyped the message three times already, each more vague or awkward than the last. Finally, after a deep inhale, I sent the text: 

Jungkook: Hey… can you come over? I really need to talk to you. It’s important.

The moment it sent, a cold sweat crept down my back. What if she didn’t come? What if she came and never forgave him? I hadn’t slept well the night before, the images of the article, of bloodstained carpet and headlines I never thought would connect to him, haunted him. Now all of it sat between them, and it was time. About twenty minutes later, I heard the gentle buzz of the doorbell. I jumped up, heart thudding wildly as I opened the door. Y/N stood there, bundled in a hoodie and jeans, looking slightly concerned. I stood next to the door, watching her with apprehension as Y/N stepped into the apartment, her arms crossed, brows furrowed. The energy was off, something heavy, solemn. "Hey," I said, voice slightly hoarse. "Hey," she replied, eyeing me. “What’s going on?” “Can you sit down for a sec? I really need to talk to you.” Y/N sat down cautiously on the edge of his couch, and I sat opposite her. The silence was unbearable. My fingers fidgeted, and I avoided her eyes. “There’s something I haven’t told you. I should’ve said it sooner. I just… I didn’t want to scare you or mess things up.” She blinked, confused and worried. “What do you mean?” I looked up, finally meeting her gaze. “That night at the arcade… When you went to the bathroom, Madame Lillian called me.” Her jaw tensed immediately. “She what?” “She called me. She said she saw something. Something bad. Something she couldn’t explain. She warned me not to tell you. But then she told me to look into something… Something about the year before we were born.” “Wait- wait. Hold up,” Y/N said, raising her hand. 

“You mean to tell me that the psychic called you with a warning, something about our past lives or whatever, and you didn’t think to tell me for WEEKS?” “I know-” “NO. Jungkook, no! Are you fucking kidding me?”

Y/N crossed her arms tightly. “So what did you find, then?”

I hesitated, then reached into my pocket and pulled out a folded printout from the article. I handed it to her, watching her expression change as her eyes scanned the words.

Her voice cracked. “They were murdered?” I nodded grimly. “Same day we met. And… the woman was killed first. Hours before the man.” She dropped the paper, backing away like it burned. “Oh my god. Oh my fucking god, Jungkook.” “I know it’s terrifying,” I gently said. “But I need you to know, I’m not giving up. I want us to figure this out, to fix what went wrong in the past, together.” Y/N blinked rapidly, her eyes glistening. “You kept this from me. All of it. You let me walk around thinking everything was okay.” She stood up, eyes wide and hands trembling. “What the actual fuck, Jungkook?! That’s not something you just withhold from someone! Especially when it might mean something dangerous.” I stood up too, panicked. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I was scared!” “Oh, YOU were scared?” she shouted, her voice cracking. “You’re not the one left out of something terrifying! You’re not the one being treated like she can’t handle the truth. Do you have any idea what that feels like?!” Tears welled up in her eyes and spilled over her cheeks. Her voice shook with a blend of anger and hurt. “I trusted you.” “I didn’t want to lose you,” I whispered, brokenly. “I didn’t know what to do. I thought maybe if I didn’t say anything-” Y/N let out a humorless laugh through her tears. “If you didn’t say anything it would just disappear? That’s not how any of this works, Jungkook. You don’t get to keep me safe by lying.” “I’m sorry,” I said again, stepping toward her, but she backed away. “No. Don’t. I can’t even look at you right now. I don’t even know what to feel. I’m scared, and confused, and you- You were supposed to be my safe place.” The room fell into a painful silence. Y/N wiped at her tears, grabbing her bag with shaking hands. She didn’t say another word. She just walked out. I stood there, staring at the door she left open behind her, feeling like the world was crumbling beneath my feet.

═══════

I sat slouched on the floor of my bedroom, the faint orange glow from the streetlight outside seeping through the blinds, casting shadows across the half-empty bottle of soju beside me. My shirt clung to my skin, sticky with sweat, and the ashtray in front of me was filled with the stubs of a dozen hastily smoked cigarettes. I clicked at my phone screen again. No new messages.

“Fuck,” I muttered, voice hoarse and bitter.

11:38 PM.

The clock taunted me. Every minute that passed without a reply from Y/N clawed deeper into my chest.

I had called her eight times in the past hour. Texted her double that. All left on read.

Jungkook: I’m sorry. Please just talk to me.

Jungkook: Y/N, please. I didn’t want to scare you.

Jungkook: I didn’t lie. I was just… terrified.

Jungkook: Please come back. Please.

Jungkook: Fuck, I’m so sorry. I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore.

I threw the phone onto the couch and let out a loud, guttural yell.

“FUCK!”

It echoed briefly off the walls of the apartment. My throat burned, from both the scream and the cheap soju. The tears were back. Of course they were. I didn’t even try to stop them now.

Taehyung stumbled through the front door just past midnight. “Jungkook?” he called out, toeing off his shoes. “Bro, what the hell? You look like shit.”

I laughed, empty and slurred. “Because I am shit.”

Taehyung wrinkled his nose at the smell of smoke and booze. “Jesus. You reek.”

“I fucked it all up, hyung,” I said, barely coherent. “I told her everything. The dreams. The murder. Madame Lillian’s call. She flipped out. Left. Just… gone.”

Taehyung eased onto the floor next to him. “You told her you think you both were murdered in a past life and are now cursed?”

“I panicked,” I whispered. “She was scared. I saw it in her eyes. I was so stupid.”

Taehyung ran a hand through his hair. “Man, you need to sleep. Let her cool down.”

Taehyung sat beside me, unsure of what to say, just letting me cry it out.

I clutched a throw pillow to my chest like it could ground me, my mind spiraling with visions, not of her dying, but of losing her. Of never getting to say sorry properly. Of her vanishing from my life like smoke.

"What if she dies, Tae?" I choked out, voice raspy. "What if all this stuff... what if it's real? What if something happens to her and I could’ve stopped it? I’m so fucking scared."

Taehyung exhaled, rubbing a hand down his face. "You can't let fear eat you alive, man. She's not gone. She's pissed. She left. That means she's still here. You’ve still got a chance to make things right."

I buried my face in my hands, the weight of these mistakes suffocating. "I’ve always felt like I didn’t deserve her. Maybe this just proves it."

Taehyung stood, grabbed a blanket from the hall closet, and draped it over me. "Sleep it off. Then figure out how to fix it. You’re not worthless. You’re just... a mess right now."

I sniffled, letting the alcohol lull me into a restless sleep as tears stained my cheeks. In the quiet apartment, the weight of my fear and regret pressed down heavily. I didn’t know how to win her back, or stop whatever fate was barreling toward them but I knew I had to try.

═══════

y/n’s pov:

I stumbled down the steps outside Jungkook’s apartment, vision blurry not from the winter wind stinging my eyes, but from the storm of tears refusing to stop. My lungs burned as I finally reached my car, wrenching the door open and slamming it shut behind me as if it could protect me from the pain that threatened to swallow me whole. Hands trembling, I threw my phone into the passenger seat, unable to bear the weight of it just yet.

The engine turned over, and soft music filled the cabin. I turned it off immediately, needing silence. Needing space. Needing… Riley.

I swiped my sleeve across my face and reached for the phone, scrolling through contacts with shaky fingers until Riley’s name appeared. I didn’t hesitate. As soon as it began to ring, my body folded over the steering wheel, sobs already escaping grom my chest.

“Y/N?” Riley’s voice sounded groggy, confused. “It’s late, are you okay?”

I opened my mouth, but only sobs came out.

“Y/N? Babe? You’re scaring me. What happened?” Riley’s tone sharpened with concern.

“H-He… Jungkook—he didn’t tell me,” I managed between hiccuping gasps. “He knew, Riles. He fucking knew.”

“Knew what?” There was shuffling on Riley’s end, like she was sitting up, fully awake now. “Talk to me.”

My voice kept cracking. “After our date- the one where we went to the diner and arcade- Madame Lillian called him. She warned him. Said she saw something horrible. And he didn’t tell me, Riley. He didn’t say a fucking thing!!”

“Oh my god,” Riley whispered. “Wait, what did she say exactly?”

“She said- she told him- something bad is coming. That we have to look into the library archives from the year before we were born. That the universe gave us a second chance. He found a news article, Riley. A couple. They were murdered on the day before Jungkook and I met this year. And…”

I choked on my words. “He thinks it was us.”

The line was silent for a moment. “Wait. What?”

“He thinks that was us,” I repeated, trying to breathe. “That we lived a life before. That we died. And now we’re here, again. And he knew this for weeks and didn’t say anything.”

Riley sounded stunned. “Holy shit…”

“I’m so fucking mad at him,” I cried, pounding the steering wheel with my fist. “I trusted him, Riles. I let him in. I thought this was something magical, something fated. But he kept it from me. Why would he do that?”

“Maybe he was scared,” Riley offered softly. “You guys are basically in a real-life reincarnation drama. That’s heavy.”

“But it doesn’t excuse it!” I snapped, sobbing harder now. “He looked me in the eyes, knowing what he found. He touched me, kissed me, fucked me, like nothing was wrong. Meanwhile, he’s terrified we’ll die.”

“Babe, I’m so sorry.” Riley’s voice cracked. “I can’t even imagine what you’re going through.”

“I feel like a fool,” I whispered. “Like… I should’ve seen it coming. He’s been distracted. Drinking more. That night we- after the arcade- I felt something was off. I thought it was nerves or lust or something… But he was just hiding this. From me.”

“He’s still the guy who dreams of you every night,” Riley said carefully. “The guy who’s been waiting to find you his whole life.”

I laughed bitterly. “And still didn’t trust me enough to tell me.”

Silence.

“I left, Riley. I left him there. Drunk. Panicking. And I just walked out.”

“Do you regret it?”

I hesitated, breath catching in my throat. “No. Not yet. I don’t know. I just- right now I need to feel like I matter enough to be told the truth. Even if it’s scary.”

“I get that.”

“Do you think he hates me now?” I asked, voice small.

“God, no. He probably thinks you hate him.”

“Maybe I do,” I murmured. “Just a little.”

My heart twisted at the thought.

We sat in silence for a long while, the quiet static of the phone line our only companion. Finally, Riley broke it.

“Listen, Y/N. No matter what this is- fate, past lives, ghosts of love lost- you still have a say in what happens next. You’re not doomed to some cosmic repeat. You can make choices. Right now, you chose to protect your heart. That’s valid.”

I nod, though Riley couldn’t see it. “Thanks, Riles.”

“Okay. Call me if you need me. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

I ended the call and leaned back against the seat, limp from the emotional storm. I stare through the windshield at the blurred glow of the streetlight outside Jungkook’s apartment, chest aching.

I wasn’t ready to forgive him. Not yet. But despite everything, a small part of me, traitorous and stubborn, still wanted to believe.

Still hoped that love could be enough.

Even if it had to fight fate to survive.

═══════

The soft crackle of a vinyl record spun lazily in the corner of the small living room, the familiar opening notes of a slow jazz classic echoing gently throughout. A warm amber hue lit the space, coming from an old floor lamp with a fringed shade. The smell of fresh coffee and faint hints of fabric softener from the laundry that hung folded nearby made the air cozy, lived in.

Y/N sat cross-legged on the shaggy carpet, wearing a thick knitted sweater and faded Levi’s. Across from her, Jungkook sat on the other end of their makeshift puzzle station, an old coffee table layered with hundreds of tiny cardboard pieces scattered like confetti.

He pushed his round glasses further up the bridge of his nose and furrowed his brow. “This piece definitely goes here,” he said confidently, fitting it gently into a section of the night sky on the puzzle.

“You’ve said that for like ten other pieces,” Y/N teased, grinning as she tucked a loose curl behind her ear. She leaned forward, her finger hovering over a piece. “Try that one for the corner—there’s a little blue in it.”

Their fingers touched as he reached for the same piece, sparking a familiar electric buzz that had become part of her. He looked up, grinning, his features soft and youthful, his mullet brushing the collar of his oversized flannel. God, he was breathtaking.

“You're really good at this,” he said, eyes fixed on her.

She tilted her head. “You mean puzzles?”

He shook his head, smiling. “No. Making everything feel perfect.”

Her heart skipped. A soft blush crept up her cheeks as she looked down.

They worked in peaceful tandem for a while, placing pieces and nudging each other when the other made a mistake. Occasionally, they’d laugh at how many coffee cups surrounded them, half-sipped and lukewarm.

Then she noticed him push his glasses up again, the movement quick and unconscious. For some reason, that tiny gesture turned something over inside her.

“Can I tell you something?” she asked, scooting closer on her knees.

He looked at her, eyes warm. “Of course.”

“You look really sexy in glasses.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows rose slightly in surprise, then he laughed. “Really?”

She leaned in and pushed the glasses back up his nose with one finger. “Really really.”

Y/N was close enough now to smell the cologne on his sweater, musky and sweet. Their puzzle was forgotten as she moved to straddle his lap, cupping his jaw and pressing a kiss to his lips. He didn’t hesitate, hands finding her waist as their mouths moved together.

The kiss deepened, languid and intoxicating, as if time was stretching around them. His tongue traced her bottom lip gently, asking for entrance, and she granted it with a soft moan. They kissed like people who had kissed a thousand times before, but each time was new. Each time was needed.

Her hands tangled in his hair as his thumbs rubbed slow circles against her back through the knit of her sweater. She broke the kiss just long enough to whisper against his mouth, “I love you.”His eyes searched hers. “I love you too.”

═══════

prev ♡ next

MASTERPOST ♡ MASTERLIST ♡

♡ requests are welcome ♡ taglist ♡

These characters are fictional and do not represent any real-life individuals. Their likeness is used solely for visual inspiration and does not reflect the actual person or their story.

═══════

Posted: 05/16/2025

[broidobe]

𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔦𝔩𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔟𝔢𝔱𝔴𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔲𝔰

requested! god DAMN this was sooooo interesting to write. i hope you like it!!!!

⁎⁺˳✧༚guns and roses masterlist

⁎⁺˳✧༚the silence after us

⁎⁺˳✧༚the silence breaks

the rain fell softly against the window, a quiet rhythm against the chaos of the day. the world outside felt muted, but here, inside our small apartment, there was peace—a rare thing when you lived with axl. he sat at the edge of the couch, barefoot, guitar across his lap. his fingers traced the strings absently, his voice humming a melody he hadn’t yet given words to.

you leaned against the doorway, watching him. his profile looked soft in this light, eyes focused, brow furrowed as he played. for a moment, it was easy to forget the fire that lurked beneath his skin, the temper that could consume everything if left unchecked.

“you’re staring,” he said suddenly, his voice low and gravelly but tinged with amusement.

you rolled your eyes. “i’m allowed to stare. you’re pretty when you’re not screaming at people.”

axl glanced up, lips twitching. “oh, so i’m a monster the rest of the time?”

“sometimes.”

he smirked but said nothing, turning back to his guitar. there it was again—the quiet. these moments were why you stayed. for all his fire and fury, axl had these cracks of gentleness, glimpses of the man he tried so hard to be. the man you loved.

but cracks, no matter how small, are still fractures waiting to spread.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

the fight started small. they always did.

you had come home late—not by hours, but long enough to irritate him. axl was already in one of his moods, pacing the length of the living room when you walked in. his anger simmered just beneath the surface, like a predator waiting for the right moment to strike.

“where the hell have you been?”

you sighed, dropping your bag by the door. “out. i told you i was meeting some friends.”

“yeah? well, maybe next time you could come home like you actually live here.”

“axl, i—”

“you know how it feels? sitting here like an idiot, wondering where you are, wondering if you even want to be here anymore?” his voice was sharp, words clipped like they might cut him, too.

you froze. “that’s not fair. you know that’s not fair.”

“you keep saying you love me, but i—”

“i do love you!”

“then why don’t you act like it?” axl’s voice was a roar, shattering the fragile calm of the room. it happened so fast: his hand slamming against the kitchen counter, the sharp sound echoing in the small space.

you flinched, the sound reverberating in your chest. axl didn’t touch you. he never touched you. but sometimes, words and actions left bruises you couldn’t see.

“you’re being ridiculous,” you whispered, voice trembling. “you’re spiraling over nothing. why do you always do this?”

axl’s face darkened. “do what?”

“blow up! yell at me! twist everything i say like i’m the enemy!”

“because you don’t understand!” his voice cracked, but it didn’t soften. “you don’t know what it’s like to feel like you’re losing everything, everyone, every fucking second of the day.”

you stared at him. for a long, painful beat, neither of you spoke. then you grabbed your coat from the back of the chair, your hands trembling.

“where are you going?” axl asked, his voice quieter now but still tight.

“out,” you said, mirroring his earlier tone. “i need air.”

“don’t.”

“don’t what?” you turned to look at him. he looked smaller suddenly, like a boy drowning in his own emotions. “don’t leave? don’t give up on you? that’s all i ever do, axl. i don’t know how much more i have left to give.”

the words hung heavy in the air as you walked out, the door slamming shut behind you.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

the apartment was quiet.

axl sat on the floor, his back against the couch, staring blankly at the spot where you’d stood. the anger had evaporated, leaving only cold regret in its place. he could still hear the echo of his own voice—harsh, cruel, like someone he didn’t even recognize.

his hand shook as he lit a cigarette, but the smoke didn’t calm him. nothing could calm him. he reached for his guitar, but the strings felt foreign beneath his fingers. he strummed aimlessly, the notes jagged and wrong, until he slammed the instrument down beside him with a broken sob.

“fuck,” he whispered, running his hands through his hair. “fuck.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

days passed. weeks.

when you finally met again, it was in a small diner on the edge of town. axl was already there, sitting in the back corner, a baseball cap pulled low over his face. he looked up when you walked in, his eyes rimmed red and tired. he hadn’t been sleeping.

you sat across from him, clutching your coat around your body like armor. neither of you spoke at first.

“i’m sorry,” axl said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “for that night. for everything.”

you nodded. “i know you are.”

“i didn’t mean it. any of it. you know that, right?”

“i know.” yout voice was soft, but your eyes were steady. “but it’s not enough, axl.”

he flinched like i’d hit him. “i can change. i swear i can. just… give me another chance.”

you looked at him for a long time, at the man you loved—still loved—and the boy inside him who was so afraid of being abandoned. your heart ached, but some wounds couldn’t be patched up with promises.

“i love you,” you said finally. “but love isn’t enough. not when it hurts like this.”

you stood up, the chair scraping softly against the floor. axl reached out like he might stop you, but his hand fell back to his side. he watched you walk away, disappearing through the diner door into the cold, gray morning.

[gyudollies]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ SPOT ! sneak peek

"up and down round and round, hit the spot, spot, spot spot."

synopsis: there was Beomgyu, your smart tutor who had anything but a clue in the world. and then there was Yeonjun, the best friend of your ex who might also happen to be your most current hookup. in which you, an aspiring painter gets the choice between love and life.

release date: tba.

masterpost

comment or ask to be on tag list !

(hi I'm vivi :)) I'm not sure when this will be released, as I'm currently in school and I have a quite long one shot in the works as well. But I'd like to put this out here as an opportunity to get involved ! moot me up...)

your life was falling apart.

recently you had gotten dumped by the only boy you'd ever dated or slept with, your boyfriend- well, ex boyfriend Sunwoo. The winter quarter ended and you went home for Christmas only for your childhood dog to choke on a candy cane and be put down on the night before Christmas. Your grades were - below your average marks and that had really tarnished Christmas dinner somewhat more than a death.

But the worst part ? As a way to get over said ex- you started sleeping with Choi Yeonjun, aka yours and Sunwoo’s childhood friend. You knew it was fucked up sure- but whats more fucked up? Sleeping with a mutual friend of your ex, or dumping your girlfriend with the excuse of focusing on football and being caught a week later with Kang Yuna in the back of the football field ? You’d known Yeonjun for longer so it was only fair !

Now here you sit in the library, writing down notes and looking over at your laptop screen every once and a while. It just so happened that both Sunwoo and Yeonjun were in the same library, at a different table pretending to do work and overall just fucking around. Sunwoo had hair recently dyed pink (the color he wouldn't allow you to dye his hair) and Yeonjun had recently gone back to a natural black. After multiple attempts from the librarian to shush them they eventually left, you quietly drowning in your thoughts. You could not focus now. You groaned, laying your head onto the old oak table and staring at your picked at nails. 

“I’m not ready for a commitment.” You recalled Sunwoo’s words on that day, scoffing internally at his statements. “Could’ve said that two years ago…” You mumbled against your sweater sleeve. The lights were beaming down onto the large doors, with every movement you could see how it had become quite dark outside. You knew it was freezing outside, January was always extremely cold down by your campus. Getting over the whiplash of seeing the face of someone who didn't spare a glance at yours, you packed your bag up and shrugged it over your shoulders. 

Your scarf was neatly placed upon you, you pull out your phone to check the time and weather of the currently pitch black night. 9:14PM. Later than usual, but not horrible. You gave a wave to the kind old librarian before opening up the large oak doors. You hiss at the feeling of the dark freezing cold outside, covering your nose with your scarf before heading your way to your apartment. 

Your dorm was warmer than the outside for sure, but not as warm as you needed it to be. You turned the heat up as you took off your shoes and discarded your bag onto the kitchen island. Your roommate Gaeul wouldn't be home for another two weeks due to a family emergency, so things like coming home to a warm house and a cooked meal wouldn't be enjoyed by you. You mumble to yourself as you get dressed into pajama pants to pair with your woolen sweater. It was an extremely lonely feeling, but Yeonjun was with your new arch nemesis and/or ex boyfriend, Gaeul was god knows where and you didn't have any super close friends that would come by at the drop of a hat. But you did have your little friend, your vibrator. You hummed at your idea, taking out your phone and ordering some food before you decided to get in your bed and relieve some of your stress. Masturbating was better than crying, right ? 

You discarded your pants and laid onto your recently washed bed set. Your purple vibe had started to power up, it hadn't been put to use in a while (thank you Yeonjun) so you patiently sat in your arousal praying that you don't get electrocuted. You edged the purple toy to your clit, your lip going in between your teeth at the sting. Soft noises escaped from your pursed lips, the stimulation hitting your clit perfectly. Your legs part, back arched as you groaned into your bottom lip. Just as your climax was soon approaching, the noise  of your familiar ringtone of the chain by fleetwood mac interrupted your focus on reaching your breaking point. You groaned, grabbing your cell, ready to hang up and finish before you see the caller ID.

Choi Beomgyu (tutor) filled your sight, you stared at it for a second before picking it up. “Hello ? y\n ?” His voice filled the room, your speaker nearly blasting your poor ears out. “Hey ! What’s up ? You never call.” You bit your lip, your clit was still twitching as you ghosted your vibrator over it. ‘No this is dirty’ you fought your internal thoughts, you felt like a total creep. But this was timed so well. Beomgyu never calls, he only texts in what seems to be in an uninterested tone with silly emojis. Even in real life, he was social of course, but never acted like a full friend to you. “Sorry, are you busy ? I thought you didn't work fridays. Sorry i’ll-” 

“No ! I-it’s okay, I'm not busy.” You caught the whine that nearly escaped your lips, your climax was becoming more important than self respect or morality. You needed this. You could hear Beomgyu let out a soft “ah” to himself. “I was wondering if you were free…tomorrow night.”

What ? You thought to yourself, it's getting weird now. “No- m not busy.” Like every weekend, all you did was order in and work on making new shades with the watercolors you were given this christmas. There was a pregnant pause, you put your lips together as an attempt to hold the noises threatening to escape your lips. Was he onto you ? “Um so.. You know how I play guitar ? I’ve got um a- gig tomorrow night and I was wondering if you wanted to come ? Sorry i know we're not close-” 

“Yes ! I mean..” You cleared your throat. “I’ll come. Where’s it at?” You looked down at your right hand in between your legs, you just orgasmed to Choi Beomgyu’s voice. You nearly screamed, throwing your vibrator across the room and scrambling to clean up the mess, as if someone was going to see. 

“y/n ? you okay ??” Beomgyu must've heard the squeak and bang against the wall and the only thing you could do was awkwardly chuckle. “yeah I'm okay !! just text me the details okay bye.”

You hung up on your hot tutor because you masturbated to his voice

(this is a rough draft btw...I am but a novice)

[lynzishell]

The Past 💛 Atlas

After my conversation with Dawn, I decide I need to talk to Ash as soon as possible. Mostly to take advantage of the clarity and confidence boost while it lasts, but also because I really don’t want to deal with yet another awkward Monday morning. I rush into the apartment to shower and change, and am back out again within twenty minutes.

During the walk to his apartment, I rehearse what I want to say, mumbling to myself as I navigate the quiet streets of the Spice District, trying to figure out the words now so I don’t get stuck and stumble when I see him. Finding the balance between being honest without having to dive into the entirety of my fucked-up past is more difficult that I expected. Almost as though, once I open that door, everything wants to come crashing out like a cartoon closet where a mountain of junk has been stashed in order to make a room appear clean and organized.

When I arrive at his building, step off the elevator and stand in front of his door, I stop, realizing I’ve shown up completely unannounced. “What am I doing?” I mutter, “Why didn’t I call first?” I start pacing anxiously around the hallway, trying to decide whether to knock or whether to leave and text him and then come back. I don’t know if he’s home, or if he even wants to see me. Does anyone even answer the door if they’re not expecting anyone? I don’t.

It takes me at least ten minutes before I finally decide to just knock. If he doesn’t answer, then I’ll text him, but I can’t leave now that I’m here. I walk back to the door, whispering to myself, “Ready… 1… 2… 3.” And then I knock.

It’s Lex who opens the door. She understandably looks surprised to see me, “Hey. Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine, I just need to talk to Ash. Is he here?”

She gives me a concerned look before nodding, “Yeah, he’s in here.”

She escorts me down the hall to the living room where Ash is laying back on the couch looking tired and despondent.

“Hey,” I greet him anxiously, trying to gauge how he feels about my showing up.

“Hi,” he doesn’t give me much, but he does seem curious at least.

“Can we talk?”

“Sure.”

Lex takes the cue to leave us, pointing back toward the hallway, “I’ll just go hang out in my room.”

Ash nods a thank you to her as I walk over and sit next to him on the familiar yellow sofa. His feet are up, and he lets them come to rest against the side of my leg. I don’t know if the gesture is intentional or not because his eyes stay down, watching his fingers as they pick at the polish on his nails, but regardless, the contact gives me the courage to start speaking.

“I’m really sorry, Ash. It’s not fair, the way I’ve been treating you.”

“No, it’s not,” he says pointedly, “but go on.” He sits up and crosses his arms defensively, but his eyes are soft when he looks over, encouraging me to continue.

Taking a deep breath, I turn to face him, “Okay look, aside from Dawn, I’ve lost everyone who’s ever been important to me. And I've developed a bad habit of shutting people out, keeping them at a distance. I guess I thought that by not dating you, I could keep from getting too close. As if it would prevent me from losing you too, or maybe I thought it would hurt less if I did. I’m not sure. But refusing to date you because we worked together just felt like an easy way to keep a distance that felt safe. It all backfired though. I fell for you anyway. And it hurt like hell when you walked out on me. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’ve been stupid, and I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” he says softly, giving me a small half-smile but still looking apprehensive, “So, where does that leave us?”

And here it is, the moment I usually freak out and tell him we should just be friends. Even now I have to fight back the part of me that wants to shut down and push him away, that is convinced it’s better to be alone. Perhaps that part of me did keep me safe once, when I was young, but Dawn’s right, it doesn’t anymore. We left that place a long time ago, and for good reason, but I’ve continued to carry it around with me. I need to figure out how to let it go because I’ll never have a future if I keep myself stuck in the past. So, for the first time, I tell him the truth about how I feel, “I really care about you, Ash, and the connection we have, it’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t scare the hell out of me, but I don’t want to run from it anymore. To be honest, I don’t know the first thing about being a good boyfriend, but I’d like to try. With you. If you’ll still have me.”

To my surprise, I feel lighter. I’m not sure what I expected, but it wasn’t this. A weight lifts from my shoulders, and I feel almost giddy as he looks up at me, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

“You really want me to be your boyfriend?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Do I still have to quit my job?” he asks.

“No,” I laugh, “please don’t. I really like working with you every day.”

“Good, me too,” he says with a smile, his body finally relaxing as he leans over to kiss me.

We both laugh as he tries to keep his lips on mine while he turns and climbs onto my lap. Once he’s settled, he wraps his arms around me in a tight hug, burying his face in my neck, his soft kisses sending a chill down my back and causing goosebumps to raise on my arms.

“Is that a yes?” I ask.

He pulls back, draping his arms across my shoulders and resting his forehead against mine, “Oh, it’s a hell yes. Will you promise me something, though?”

“What?”

“Always be honest with me. If you get overwhelmed or scared, if I get too intense or piss you off, if you’re struggling for any reason, whatever it is, you can talk to me.”

“I know. I will, I promise. Can I ask you for something too?”

“Of course.”

“When I inevitably screw things up, if I disappoint you or upset you, will you stay and talk to me? Don’t storm off and leave me.”

“I do love a dramatic exit when I’m angry, but for you, I can definitely do that.”

“Thank you.”

“See, I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. You’re a great boyfriend already.”

I laugh a little, tempted to make a self-deprecating joke, to assure him I will indeed let him down eventually, but then decide I’d rather kiss him instead.

Even if I am destined to lose him in the end, I at least want to enjoy every minute we have together in the meantime. And who knows, maybe I’m wrong. Maybe there’s a chance he could love me the way that I love him.

He stops then, and for a split second I worry he heard what I was thinking. The way he looks down at me makes me wonder if he was thinking it too, but instead he asks, “Do you want to stay here tonight?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Um, I have to let Lex come out of her room.”

“Oh shit, Lex.”

“Yeah. So, I don’t know, maybe we can all watch a movie or something.”

“What if I want you to myself tonight?”

“Then, you’ve got me,” he smiles, “We can just hang out in my room.”

“Sounds good.”

“Okay. You go ahead, I’ll be there in a minute.”

He enters the room quietly, closing the door softly and leaning against it, watching as I look over the artwork on his dresser and on his wall. “I just realized I’ve never been in your room.”

“What do you think?"

"I like it, it's very you."

He smiles, pushing himself away from the door, "Can I ask you something?"

“Sure.”

“When you say you lost everyone, what do you mean? What happened?”

“Uhh,” I sigh, unsure if I’m prepared to dive into all that tonight. “If I promise to tell you, can we save that conversation for another day?”

“Yeah. We can do that.”

“Thanks.”

“So, what do you want to do then?”

“I’m sure we can think of something.”

Prev // Deja vu // 18+ // Next

[k9wa]

𑣲 MINE, ALL MINE. ft. SATORU GOJO

⠀ — so when i die, which i must do,

⠀ OR

⠀ — it isn’t gojo’s death that kills you, not more so than the circumstances.

⚠︎ 236 spoilers, angst, gn reader, i miss him so much i’m literally spiralling, its been three months i actually can’t take it anymore, angst, Angst, maybe angst idk. wc 797

december 30th rolls around faster than you can hope to process.

nothing in your apartment has been moved even the slightest inch in the last week. 

two coffee cups still sit atop the kitchen counter, their contents long spoiled and beginning to smell.  one of them is far worse than the other due to the abundance of cream and sugar inside it. 

a large pair of black boots, leather with a pointed toe stay messily in the doorway— you’ve already memorised the steps to take not to trip over them and knock them out of place. 

the bed remains the same, blankets and pillows in the identical messy pattern they were on the morning of the 24th. (you haven’t even gone into the bedroom, actually. you don’t have the bravery. you sleep on the couch.)

…the place is empty. it’s full, what with the clutter and picture frames on the wall and furniture. but it’s empty. cold, even. like a hand reached in through the ceiling and grabbed any warmth, ripping it out without mercy and leaving you in the frigid remains.

he should be here, you keep thinking. this is his home too.

maybe you’re dramatic. maybe his death shouldn’t have turned you so utterly pathetic. maybe you should be able to get a semblance of a fucking grip and at least clean the apartment that is suffocating you with memories you can’t bare to discard because it’s all you have left.

but it isn’t satoru’s death that kills you, not more so than the circumstances. it’s how.

and it’s not that he went out in a blaze of glory, fighting against the strongest sorcerer of all time who he, momentarily, had backed into a corner. not that he died with a smile on his face, the adrenaline of combat surging through his veins because to his core he enjoyed it.

but that it was megumi who he had to go against. that he found it easy to fight him no holds barred because of the irreparable mark the boy’s father had left on his very soul when he himself was just a boy. why? why did he deserve such a fate? why was it placed upon him? it isn’t fair.

his death incapacitates you because of how sudden it is. with no warning, lured into a false sense of security, just to have the rug pulled out from under you. at only 29 years old, over ten years of companionship are reduced to nothing but what used to be.

you’ll soon forget how his hand feels in yours, the sound of his laugh, the tickling of his hair against your nose when he nuzzles your cheek. it’s nauseating just to think about, yet not being able to recall at all might just be more than you can handle.

it’s not satoru’s death that kills you, because everybody dies. and in your line of work, it’s always sooner rather than later. satoru, strongest or not, is—was human. his death would rear it’s head some day, that was something you both knew. 

but fuck you’ll curse every night to a god that doesn’t listen, and to the walls of a room that no longer feels like yours that you didn’t get more time.

he deserved to hit 30, to have what remained of his students crack jokes and call him old, and to watch him whine and run to you with complaints. he deserved to grow old enough to where he could finally be at peace with the death of suguru getou, or at least find peace within it enough to where it didn’t plague his life anymore— despite his insistent denial that it didn’t.

fuck what he deserved, damn it all to hell. you wanted him to do these things. wholly and perhaps even selfishly. 

you wanted him to grow old with you, 

you wanted him to stay by your side so you could stay by his. 

you wanted him to reach a point someday where jujutsu society no longer had the two of you bound in heavy chains like two puppeteers; despite satoru’s advocacy and determination to make it different. where you could live your life together free of its terror.

…you wanted to see him succeed at that so badly. to see the proud look on his face when he no longer had to watch more children be sent to death.

look how well that worked out, huh, satoru?

you open the front door to your apartment, feet weaving easily around the pair of shoes obstructing the walkway. you walk past the same two grey coffee mugs on the counter, past the half shut bedroom door, and sit on the couch. you lay down, still in the same clothes, the same shoes.

you spend the night wishing it was you who’d gone first. 

maybe tomorrow you will have the bravery. 

⠀ 𑣲 MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?