#but she acted up so i snapped back with 'sure

[cherubunie]

dirty thoughts ~ park jongseong x reader

ଓ ⋆˙⊹ [ 성훈 ] ☆ you and jay have an.. odd relationship. you haven't known him long as he was paired with you in a group project for a class. he acts as if he hates you one day, but then it feels like he's you're his best friend the next. you've been having... weird... dreams about him. they started off tame, but as time went on; they began to get more and more heated... so when you wake up in the middle of the night to a figure looming over the foot of your bed, you only assumed it to be Jay. so its not fear you feel when he tells you to run.

word count ; 8.7k

incubus! dom! jay x sub! reader. reader has the worst dirty thoughts about jay its funny. chasing / hunter + prey dynamic , masochism , monster(ish) fucking , cnc , size kink , orgasm denial , dacryphilia , bulge kink , breeding , man handling , dacryphilia , fingering , stalking , corruption , reader is a bit of an oc for the plot line , sorry ! very poorly proof read so dismiss any mistakes pls !

"that's odd, I've never seen him before" you lean close to one of your friends who you sit next by, looking at the unfamiliar black-haired man that sits in the back of the classroom, his eyes locked onto his computer screen. your friend turns her head, following your line of eyesight to look at the mystery man.

"Park Jongseong I believe is what his name is" she says, briefly pausing. she squints her eyes in order to get a good look at the man before continuing

"He's really fucking attractive though, y/n. you should go over there, I mean you were partnered with him, right?" she asks, making you nod your head as an answer. Almost as if he felt your stare, his eyes look up from the computer screen in- making direct eye contact with you. his face is completely expressionless, a chill running up your spine at his stare.

You turn back around in your seat, exhaling a deep breath you didn't know you were holding before groaning.

"I guess so. I'll see you after class, yeah?' she mumbles a quick 'sure' before diverting her attention back onto her laptop.

you gather your things into your bag before standing up and heading over to the man, sucking in a deep breath before sitting down in the chair next to him. you're too afraid to say anything, his dark aura making your vocal chords feel as if they were tangled.

as you sit down, your eyes drift off to the side of his face. his jawline is perfectly chiseled and sharp, his lips full and he has his ears pierced. you mentally take note of the attractive man that sits next to you, your thoughts drifting out of your head- but are quickly snapped out of your trance as he shifts his eyes to look at you.

a gasp spills from your lips at the intense eye contact, quickly looking away from him in embarrassment.

"you are?" he asks, his tone of voice sharp and to the point - low-key scaring you.

"y/n, y/n l/n... and you?' you return the question, immediately mentally face palming as you already know who he is.

"Park Jongseong, but you can call me Jay." his voice direct and solid, no undertones of amusement that you can detect. you shift uncomfortably in your seat, grabbing out your computer before putting it on the table in front of you and creating a google slide for the project the two of you will be spending the next couple months working on.

The two of you work in silence- you being too nervous to say anything and him not wanting to speak. it was honestly frustrating, but you could care less.

class is about to end, and you still haven't said a word to each other in the agazoning hour and a half. Jay begins packing up, making you frantically pull out your phone and open up the call app in order to create a new contact. you turn to jay with a deep breath before asking your question.

"uhm, I was wondering if I could get your number? you know, since we're gonna be working together" he stares at you as if you spoke a different language, making you uncomfortable beyond belief.

"no thanks, im good." is all he says before turning around and walking out of the classroom, leaving you completely dumbfounded and a little upset.

after a moment of standing there in disbelief at his rudeness, you huff and roll your eyes- exiting the classroom angry before heading home.

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"he was so rude, I don't know why I didn't even do anything" you huff into the phone speaker, finishing up your skin care routine before putting vaseline on your lips.

"don't even worry about him, maybe he's a tough cookie to crack" you sigh, silently agreeing with your best friend. you stand up from your vanity, checking yourself out slightly as you turn around and look at your ass, your pajama shorts complimenting your figure and your tight night-shirt holding up your breasts perfectly.

"whatever, I don't care anyways. if he doesn't want to exchange numbers and at least attempt to work together in order to get a good grade, I wont object, I'll just do my half and hope he does his" you collapse onto your bed dramatically, looking up at your ceiling which glows a dim yellow thanks to your fairy lights glimmering around your room.

you flip over on your stomach, getting out your MacBook and opening instagram.

"do you think he has any social media?' you ask her, mischief laced in your voice.

"you better not." she warns, but you do it anyways.

"p-a-r-k , j-o-n-g-s-e-o-n-g.." you emphasize each letter as you type on the keyboard. the line goes quiet as you search for your project partner, but to your dismay, you find nothing.

"ugh, who on earth doesn't at least have an instagram in this day and age" you complain, making your friend giggle on the other line.

"maybe he blocked you" you instantly sit up, glaring into the empty room at who knows what.

"that's not funny." a loud laugh rings in your ear, making you groan.

"stop laughing at my misery you whore" but she doesn't, making you hang up on her. you yawn and plug your phone into the charger before turning out the lights and crawling under the covers.

the only thought in your mind as you drift off to sleep being your mysterious study partner

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you walk into class, your mind racing a million miles a minute as you look around for your seat partner, not quite seeing him until the small crowd of people disperses away from your desk, catching sight of him immediately.

his black hair is more kept today and his outfit seems a little brighter- as does his face. as soon as you walk into the room his head tilts up, his eyes meeting yours.

your heart feels as if it stops for a split second as you abruptly come to a stop.

god he's so fucking attractive

you shake your head slightly before pushing yourself into the room , your guard up and ready as you sit down next to him. you pull your stuff out of your book bag and turn to face the front of the room as he speaks.

"hi, um, sorry about last class, I wasn't feeling very good so I was kind of a dick.." his voice trails off as a shy smile spreads on his lips, his body turning in his chair to face you. your face heats up as you reciprocate his smile.

"its alright, we all have bad days" your smile doesn't falter, and neither does his. you take not of his well kept, thick eyebrows and the shape of his nose, his appearance is absolutely breathtaking and it makes you feel all sorts of things.

"so, about the project.. I was wondering if-" the two of you begin speaking about the project, picking out a topic and a format was easier than you thought.

the two of you begin chatting about other things, and you learned a few facts about your used-to-be-mysterious seat partner; how he enjoys playing the guitar in his free time, how he was born in Seattle and is a huge fan of the mariner baseball team, just a bunch of facts he shared about himself in order to bring the two of you closer together.

you also shared some interesting things about yourself; how you have two baby kitties at home , you're an art major who loves to sit and read or watch kdramas in your cozy room while drinking iced tea, or doing your makeup.

things jay already knew about you, but enjoyed listening to you ramble about them anyways.

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"he wasn't actually an asshole, he was just having a bad day is all" you explain to your friend, freshly showered and painting your toenails in your robe while sitting on your bed. your phone is on speaker sitting next to you as Sixteen Candles plays on your laptop in the background.

"that's good at least, you know... y/n you haven't really been so interested in a guy before.. let alone talked about one to me" your friend speaks honestly, making you halt your focus on your pinky toenail.

"what? ive only spoken to him twice, what makes you think I have an interest in him?" you question, going back to painting your nails a pastel pink. there's shuffling in the background before she speaks again

"I mean you've never really paid this much attention to a guy ever, you've encountered plenty of assholes guys before, but you've never spoken to me about any of them with me the way you do with jay" she says, making you poke your tongue out of the side of your mouth in frustration.

"I mean, he was actually kind of nice today, we even got to know each other a little bit. he even asked me for my phone number" you smile at the memory of him asking for your phone number.

you forgot to get his, so the communication relies on him.

"well just be careful, you never know mens' intentions these days" she warns, and you take note. you finish painting your toenails, waving your hand in order to get them to dry faster.

"yeah I will" you speak semi-honestly. for some reason, jay doesn't feel like any of the men you've encountered before; he feels warm and safe to be around even though you haven't known him for very long.

suddenly, a harsh knock can be heard coming from the front door downstairs, startling you from your quick daydream. you begin to slide off your bed with a groan, quickly exiting your room and heading downstairs.

"hey, I got to go, I'll see you later, yeah?" you say into the phone, she says a quick 'alright' before the two of you hang up.

your feet feel cold on the hardwood floor, making a shiver run up your spine with each step you take towards the front door. you look out of the peephole, only to be met with nothing on the outside.

just as you turn your back, another harsh knock echoes off the walls of the apartment, only this time its louder. your breathing turns heavy as you hesitate, turning around and unlocking and swinging the door open.

a gust of cold wind grazes your cheek and into the house, making your hair blow in the wind just slightly. you see nobody around, and a weird feeling begins to pool in your stomach.

you slam the door closed and lock both locks on it, making sure its secure before heading back over to your bed to bury yourself under the covers.

that night, you decide to leave your laptop and fairy lights on.

but when you wake up, they're both turned off.

Jay's figure looms over yours as you sleep soundly in your bed. the shadow of his silhouette cascades onto your sleeping figure thanks to the dim moonlight shining in through your window.

your skin looks soft, almost as if it was glimmering in the lighting. all he wants to do is reach out and touch your cheek- but he holds himself.

instead, he manipulates his way into your mind- but not quite altering it... yet.

he has to be patient.

he has to wait for you to bare yourself completely to him in order to have your full word.

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"oh my god" you jump up out of bed in excitement. running over to your vanity in order to grab your head band before making your way into the bathroom. jay texted you around an hour ago, asking if you wanted to meet up at his apartment in order to study. you quickly texted back a "sure" before washing your face and doing your makeup.

on the way to jay's place, you picked up an iced coffee for him , and an iced tea for you before making your way to his apartment.

"hi y/n, come on in" he greets you with a smile. he leads you into his room and its unsurprisingly clean- his bed is made neatly and his closet is organized along with his cologne collection that adorns the side of his desk. you look around the room, taking in how it smells exactly like him.

you accept his request to sit down on the bed, taking out your laptop and opening the slides of your project.

the two of you discuss further plans for the assignment for a couple hours, coming up with strategic ways to get your point across to the professor in a professional manner all while following along with the criteria of the project.

after a while of brain-sucking studying, you lean back onto the bed and stretch- your joints popping as you do so.

jay leans back on his palms and observes you, noting how tired you already are just from a couple measly hours of studying. you yawn slightly, closing your eyes as you begin to feel exhaustion wash over you.

after a few moments, you open your eyes, making direct eye contact with his and just as you do so, it feels as if the wind was knocked out of you.

jay's eyes are dark and his hair is disheveled. you gulp down saliva, not daring to move as he observes your face. your lips are parted and your fingers fidget with the rings you wear.

you feel heat begin to pool in your lower abdomen, your eyes beginning to cloud over.

oh the way he's looking at you is beginning to drive you insane, your mind racing a million miles a minute - he finds it so fucking adorable - the way you are already falling into the palm of his hand , playing right into his devious tricks.

he can basically smell the pathetic arousal pooling in your panties , and you're too innocent and confused to even know its even happening.

"jay.." his name rolls off his tongue and it takes everything inside of him to stop himself from taking you this very second - but he keeps reminding himself to be patient.

patience.

that's all he needs for his plan to fall into place.

"do you wanna go get ramen ?" his words snap you out of your haze, the whiplash hitting you like a brick from his earlier stare. you sit up on your forearms, trying to get your head to stop spinning around.

you look at him as he stands up, grabbing a coat and tossing it over to you.

"why do I need this?" you question as he puts on a coat of his own. he turns around and looks at you, crossing his arms over his chest.

"its cold out, and you didn't wear a jacket. come on , we'll go get ramen and then I'll take you home, yeah?" without questioning him, you stand up and put the jacket on before walking out the door and heading towards his car.

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desperate whimpers and whines bounce off the walls of your studio. your limbs beginning to entangle in the sheets of your bed as you attempt to relieve the tingling sensation that spreads throughout your body through your aching pussy.

your eyes are closed - a deep sleep looming over you as you dream of jays body on top of yours. his hands are soft and gentle as they caress that sweetest spot inside your cunt, the moans in your dream come out of your throat in the real world.

a thin layer of sweat coats your forehead, and your hair begins to tangle as you gently thrash around on top of your mattress in a desperate attempt to find any sort of friction.

jay finds himself standing above your bed once more, witnessing just how much he has altered your pathetic little mind in such a short amount of time, a small smirk graced on his lips.

he watches how your hips rock into nothing, the smell of your arousal circulating all around him- feeding him. his eyes glow in the dark as they look directly into your soul that will once become his.

he reaches his hand out, using the back of his fingers to brush a stray hair out of your face. he coo's at the way your face contorts into one of pleasure and pain- confusion and unsatisfactory.

"you poor thing.. soon baby, I promise." he whispers, the adorable sounds you make influence a deep sense of dread to fill his mind- he wants to take you for himself, now.

right fucking now.

but you're not finished yet, oh no.

the gears in your mind haven't been shifted to fit into his just yet.

jay kisses the top of your forehead, easing the throbbing of your clit slightly- giving you some sort of relaxation in the midst of driving you absolutely insane.

he can see inside your mind- he can see all the nasty- dirty things he does to you in the dream. how be bends you in half in order to fuck you just right- how he pulls your hair so your back can fold into a painful arch- and especially how he splits you in half with his huge cock in any position you can think of, your juices squirting over fucking everything in sight.

his eyes grow a darker shade of black, and his horns double in size as does his tail and wings, and he can feel himself gain at least a foot taller.

god how perfectly you feed right into his power- giving him everything he wished for so, so easily

your eyes open, your mind coming out of the heated dream you found yourself having. sweat covers your body and your clit still throbs at the thought of him. you lay back down, your head hitting the cushioning of the pillow as you attempt to calm your heavy breathing.

the dream felt so vivid.. and real. the way jay's cold hands caressed your soft skin, his fingers curling up inside your core. heat spreads through you in ripples just at the thought.

you felt so unbelievably guilty and somewhat disgusting as your hands slip past the waistband of your panties, your fingers finding your pulsating clit.

you rub gentle circles on your mound of muscle, wetness spreading through your folds with ease. you close your eyes and bite your lip in order to hush your moans that fill the room.

your fingers split you open, fucking your tight cunt the way you wished jay would- and how he was previously doing in the dream you so rudely awaked from.

"j-jay please" you whimper,

and little to your knowledge- he heard the way you pathetically moaned his name- he was perched on the railing of your house balcony, his huge wings drooping to the sides of his figure as his golden eyes bore into your figure as you fucked your wet pussy just to the thought of him.

the way you moaned his name made goosebumps arise on his skin, his most favorite melody you could ever create in this life time. his most favorite song he's ever heard and his restraint is wearing thin as you continue to use your pathetic little fingers to get yourself off.

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"you look tired, y/n are you alright" jay voices his concern as you enter the class. its been two months since the two of you began hanging out, so his concern wasn't out of the ordinary anymore.

jay and you have spent a lot of time together, studying and hanging out in general. you got to know him better- understand him. he was honestly so sweet and collected, his nurturing personality making you fall head over heels for him in so many ways.

especially now, when he notices the prominent eyeballs that soil the skin under your eyes- which are red and watery. your hair is a mess and you feel as if you could slump over and fall asleep any second now.

you approach the desk, setting your stuff down before laying your head down on the cool wood.

"I'll be fine, I haven't been sleeping well recently" you reply honestly, making him pinch his eyebrows at you in worry. he hesitates before putting a comforting hand on your back, rubbing up and down to soothe your mind.

heat instantly spreads through your body like wildfire.

"how about we ditch this class and go back to mine and watch a movie, we could stop and get snacks on the way" he leans down to whisper in your ear. your head turns to the side with a sly smirk gracing your lips.

"jay, wait up" you giggle as he runs towards the entrance of the corner store. he doesn't listen though, running into the store to grab whatever snacks he could find.

you run in after him, grabbing a dr. pepper and a bag of chips before looking around the building in an attempt to find the man. you spot him in the candy aisle, picking up your favorite candy bar before turning around to face you. you notice the piece of food in his hand, your mouth watering instantly.

"is that... those are my favorite" of course he already knew that, but plays dumb anyways.

"you want one" he smiles at you, grabbing another off the shelf and handing it to you.

just as the two of you go up to pay, jay whips out his card and hands it to the cashier before you had the chance to.

"you really didn't have to pay for my stuff" you say, a pout on your face as you speak. he wants to kiss that pout right off your lips- but stops himself.

he grabs the grocery bag and leans down into your ear

"shut up, let me take care of you" he runs out of the building and towards his car, leaving you whiplashed and confused. you push through the exit and head towards his car, falling into the passenger seat as you connect to the aux.

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the two of you decide to watch the original scream movie, your shared snacks sitting inbetween the two of you who sit down on the couch, undivided attention on the tv.

the sex scene comes on, and you know that even though they don't show them having sex, your cheeks heat up red anyways, looking away from the tv and focusing on grabbing the chips- but when you go and look for them, jay has them on the other side of his body, away from you.

you huff slightly to get his attention, his eyes finding yours. he follows your field of vision, an idea popping into his head.

"you can have them, but you have to take them from me" you groan dramatically, giving him an 'are you serious' look. jays expression is playful, giving you your answer.

you go to reach for them, leaning over his lap as you do so. Jay gets a good smell of your perfume, inhaling your scent deeply. he moves the chips out of your reach and above his head. you instinctively reach for them again, a giggle followed by a whine can be heard from you as you shift your body to sit on his lap.

jay freezes instantly, letting you grab the snack out of his hands before realizing what you just did.

your body freezes, and jay's hands find their way to your waist, holding you in place.

"j-jay..?' you look up at him, your face coated in a deep blush as he stares at you- his eyes turning dark... way too dark for comfort- but you don't care.

"y/n.." your ears perk up at the sound of him calling your name, like a little puppy.

"have you ever had sex?" the question throws you completely off guard, making you shift in his lap uncomfortably. he then realizes the position the two of you are in and how you squirm around in his hold.. he could overpower you oh so easily, it makes his cock begin to harden. Jay has a mental war with himself before he grips your waist and pulls you to sit right next to him instead. you avert your eyes away from the man- deciding to look at the tv instead, trying to gather your thoughts.

your reaction is enough of an answer, wetness pooling in your panties- you feel his eyes burning into your body. as you focus your eyes onto the tv, and your face heats up even more at the scene where Stu chases Sidney through the house in the ghost face mask. you know this is supposed to be a horror movie, but something about the idea of being chased makes you feel so much hotter than you already are.

you swallow hard, deciding to look back at jay in order to distract yourself, answering his question.

"u-uhm, no ? I mean guess not.." god you're so fucking cute. so perfect and innocent, the newfound information making jays head feel light as he stares at you, completely forgetting about the movie.

he can tell just by how red your face is that you are enjoying this part of the movie. almost as if hes reading your thoughts.

you enjoy being chased, the thrill and adrenaline caused by the question of 'what if I get caught' fuels your growing arousal, the two of you looking at each other deeply. for a second, you think hes about to lean in to kiss you, but just before he does..

he focuses his attention back onto the movie, leaving you to widen your eyes and question what the hell just happened within the last five minutes.

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the next couple of weeks felt long and agonizing, your feelings for jay only growing stronger by the second.

countless nights you spent awake, or forced awake due to the dirty dreams you've been having about the familiar black haired male. everything about him kept dragging you in more and more, it was almost impossible to stay away from him for more than a few hours.

the dreams became more vivid- jays face gaining more and more detail with every dream you have.

its driving you insane. everything about him is. the way his touch would linger on your skin, the way his eyes would darken every time he looked at you, the way he was beginning to be protective over you- everything he does make you feel like bursting at the seams.

especially with the last dream you had. it felt like it kept going on and on for hours at a time.

his hips snapping against yours in a beautiful rhythm, how his cock split you in half, how his hands would ease you to orgasm over and over again repeatedly.

it felt wrong how many nights you'd masturbaited to the thought of his touch, the sound of his voice whenever he would send you an audio message or leave a voicemail.

oh fuck was he driving you crazy and you have no idea why. it was honestly making you feel sick with how badly you've begun to ache for him, any part of him.

so here you were now... one week without a word from jay, and it was honestly one of the worst weeks you've had in years.

he missed the group presentation- leaving you to do it all alone. the feeling of patheticness radiates through your body as you walk to campus, sending jay yet another text about how worried you were about him.

he missed your happy reaction to getting an A on the project... but having nobody to celebrate with.

Jay left without a trace, and without a warning , leaving you with nothing but his hoodie. you've even gone to his apartment in hopes of running into him, but came up empty-handed.

a couple weeks ago, the two of you were almost never seen without the other, if one was somewhere- the other had to be somewhere close by. Jay treated you so gently- like you were the most precious thing on this earth before he disappeared.

"y/n, he's fine I promise" your best friend tries to ease your mind as she lays on your bed, looking through your magazines while music plays in the background.

you've been going on a tangent about how jay hasnt even texted you in the last week, let alone make his existence known to you at all. it was weird and out of the ordinary for him to just, stop existing.

you look at yourself in the mirror, not really recognizing the person on the other side of the mirror. eyebags are heavily tainting your skin, and you've lost weight due to the fact that you never sleep.

although jay was gone, the dreams remained.

you sigh into your palms, raking your fingers through your freshly-washed hair and then down your face in frustration.

"you're right, maybe something came up and his phone broke, im sure I'll hear from him soon" you attempt to reassure yourself, standing up from your vanity after finishing your skincare.

you turn to face your best friend as she stands up, grabbing her bag.

"I need to go, its hella late and I have class in the morning" you nod your head, seeing her out of the house before collapsing into bed, sipping your phone out of your pocket and checking yours and jays text chain.

still nothing

you sigh, turning on your side as your head begins to hurt once more, a familiar feeling you've grown accustomed to.

your eyes feel like burning as a single tear makes its way down your cheek.

you're so fucking worried about him.

you would give just about anything to see him again, the feeling of unknowing agony coursing through your veins as you type out another message, sending it without hesitation.

please answer me

I love you

it seems fast- but it really wasn't. especially with how close the two of you have grown in these passed few months, it was going to come sooner or later- you just wish it was under different circumstances.

your head hits the pillow after you turn out your lights, drifting off into a deep sleep.

feel your core tingle, feeling as if it was on fire.

your eyes open, the first thing in sight was jay's eyes bearing into you- but hes different. everything about him is different as his fingers reach inside your core- threatening to split you down the middle in the most prettiest way.

his eyes are golden, shining in the light. his face is sharp, curled horns complimenting the top of his head that you've never seen before. a huge pair of wings drape down on either side of his body, a pointed tail flicking up and over his head inbetween his wings.

you gasp- not only at his new appearance- but the odd pleasure that takes over your entire being as jay toys with you ever so slightly, an overwhelming feeling of dread, anxiety, and oh so much pleasure to where it feels like its going to explode out of your fingertips.

jay leans down, beginning to hover over your much smaller frame. his name rolls off your tongue, and for some reason- you feel tears roll down your cheek while your hands reach up to wrap around his back- pulling him in closer to your body as he fucks his fingers inside you.

your body is hot- your hips bucking up into nothing but air as you whine incoherent sentences.

he stands at the foot of your bed- witnessing you fall apart under his gaze. the strong scent of your hormones and arousal filter through his nose- claiming his senses.

his name rolling off your tongue makes his eyes shift even darker than they are currently, your sleepy body beginning to shift awake just before your orgasm washes over you.

your body forces itself to sit up, heavy breathing filling the room of your studio. confusion washes over your face as you look up at the man before you, pain radiating out of your heart so severe, it almost physically pains you.

"j-jay..?"

"hello, beautiful." your breath shudders as you exhale, taking in his appearance; he looks the exact same way he did in your dream... he's freakishly tall with curled horns, huge wings, a tale and deep golden eyes that make you shrink ever so slightly.

warm tears run down your cheeks, a number of emotions cloud your brain so badly that it affects the way you think- unable to form any useful thoughts.

"jay please" you have no idea what you're begging for, but do so anyways. he lifts his eyebrows, a pout on his lips as he tilts his head to the side.

"what do you want, my love?" its abundantly obvious how needy you have become... but jay's going through the exact same thing, but he's better at concealing it. more tears spill from your red eyes, and they feel like acid on your face.

"you.. please, I need you please" you crawl across the bed towards his huge frame, his chest broad and open due to the fact that he's only wearing a pair of what appears to be tan shorts. you stop just in front of him, his body leaning down to capture your face in his hand.

his breath fans your face, observing you up close.

you should be scared- you should be telling him to run away- but the fluttering of your pussy prevents you from doing so, your abdomen tight and cramping with need.

your eyebrows pinch together, your skin glowing in the moonlight that shines down through your curtains that dance in the wind thanks to your open balcony door.

he chuckles at the look on your face, letting you go and standing back up. his body straightens as he looks down at your trembling body.

"run" before a thought can form, your feet are already moving before you know it. your hand tightens on the railing as you sprint downstairs in the dark.

you turn a sharp corner and head straight for the kitchen, but your short freedom is cut to an abrupt halt as you see jay standing on the other side of the kitchen, his arms folded across his chest.

your breathing is heavy, your body spinning around on your heel while you break into another sprint; this time heading down a hallway and towards the front door.

his laugh is surrounding you, almost taunting your pathetic attempts of escape.

you fling the front door open, but scream when you see his tall figure standing on the other side just before you slam it just as quickly as it was opened. your body rushes into the living room which is completely coated in darkness that its borderline impossible to make out any sort of figure.

you run into a wall, and that's when you see the golden eyes- standing a mere couple feet away from you.

"got you" his voice carries through the room, making a shiver run down your spine. within a blink of an eye, his body is right in front of yours- hovering over you. your eyes bore into his lower chest.

a whine leaves your throat as his fingers ghost across your thigh, trailing up your arm and towards your face as he cups your cheek, tilting your head up in order to look at him.

sweat drips off your hairline, your body trembling in his hold.

you're so conflicted as his thumb traces gentle circles on your skin. your nose begins to sting, as do your eyes.

the smallest of tears trail down your cheek, hitting jays thumb as he caresses you. his body contact feels like fire, the burning pit in your stomach only grows and you swear your underwear is completely soiled at this point.

more hushed whines string out of your parted, chapped lips.

he would have taken you in an instant, never giving you the chance to run away. but ever since he saw you all those months ago, he knew you weren't just some ordinary human.

you were a human that was worth all the pain that this world has pushed onto him, and then some.

he loves you.

he looks at you as if you hold the entire world in his hands, and it calms you for just a second

"jay.."

but no matter how badly he wants to be with you; it simply can't happen.

"what do you want, sweetheart?" he asks, watching your face contort into one of painful pleasure. your eyes are teary and half-lidded as they stare into his.

"you... please... need you and only you jay please" you beg, making a smile arise on his face.

fuck he's insane.

"give yourself to me baby, let me take you for myself precious" you frantically nod your head, his body beginning to press into yours- resulting in your back hitting the cool wall behind you.

"are you really willing to give up everything you are? your god wont ever be able to save you my love, no amount of wishing, praying, reading, or manifesting will ever be in your favor, you will forever me mine until death do you part.. and even past then." he questions, watching your every move as his free hand comes to the slope of your waist, holding you in place as his knee begins to push your legs apart, your clothed heat pressing up against his thigh.

"please.. yes take me, take me please I dont- I dont want anything else" the second the words leave your mouth, he kisses your forehead, a ripple of gold spreading from his lips onto your skin and down your face; making this moment official. his hands lift you into the air. your legs wrap around his torso, your hands flying towards the back of his head in order to tug on his black locks.

his lips finds yours in an instant, his long tongue intruding passed your lips in order to explore your mouth. he pushes you into the wall once more, making you hiss at the sharp cold of the sheet rock.

everything around you feels like its burning, especially his skin on yours. your hips grind into his body, your wetness being felt on his skin instantly.

he detaches his lips from yours with a wet pop, moving his head down to the crook of your neck in order to suck deep, purple marks into your perfect skin. your hands tug his hair roughly, the heat of his lips making it impossible to focus. you squirm in his hold, pressing your body impossibly closer to his.

Jay groans at the feeling of you tugging his hair and begins to move, walking up the stairs and towards your room. He gently puts you down onto the bed, beginning to crawl over your shaking figure.

you lay down, your back flush against the comfortable sheets as he hovers over you. your hands instantly move to wrap around his neck, bringing him down so his lips meet with yours in a deep, passionate kiss.

you feel his hands wander to the base of your shirt, and in one swift motion; he rips the flimsy piece of fabric while a gasp exits your mouth. Jay tosses it across the room to be forgotten, his focus primarily on you and you alone.

his knee makes its way to your clothed heat, pressing up against your pussy in order to give you the slightest bit of friction you so desperately wished to possess. you moan into his mouth, to which he happily swallows into the depths of his being.

you grind down onto his thigh, a sigh of relief can be heard from you as his hands move down to your hips, guiding you down onto him.

he feels his cock harden, straining against his shorts painfully. you feel him grow against you, your eyes opening slowly as you lean back to look at him- the real him.

"Jay..." he licks his bottom lip, his eyes glowing brighter with every passing second.

"please" you say, almost as if you're in agony. he shakes his head with a smirk on his face, dipping down to the junction between your neck and shoulder, licking a stripe up your skin towards your ear before his teeth sink into you.

a scream erupts from your throat, pushing your hips downwards harshly, releasing the pent up frustration through the tugging on his hair.

Jay sits up, admiring the beautiful little thing squirming underneath him. your hips pathetically rock into his leg, a wet patch forming on his shorts.

He hisses at the sight, instantly halting your hips as a whine of protests sounds out of you. With impatience, jay rips your flimsy lace panties and tosses them onto the ground. you suck in a deep breath at his actions just before he leans down to capture his mouth on yours once more.

after a few moments, he detaches from you, trailing his kisses towards your neck and down your sternum. Jay then takes one of your already-perky nipples into his mouth, mounding the other in his huge hands. the ring that he wears pinches you with cold, making you shiver.

he tongues your nipple, sucking and biting on your nub as you buck your hips into nothing, searching for him without meaning to. he chuckles at your actions, moving his face to the other nipple.

you squeal as he takes your nipple inbetween his teeth and bites down harshly, looking at you through his eyebrows before detaching. your breathing increases after, his wet kisses trailing down your stomach and abdomen, leaving scorching fire in its wake.

the pressure in your abdomen grows as he stops his lips right above your pussy, blowing cold air onto your clit.

"fuck baby.. you're dripping all over the bed sweetheart.." he taunts you, your face heating up in embarrassment. the way your cunt squeezes around nothing drives him up the wall, and all he wants to do is fuck you raw right then and there.

instead, his mouth latches onto your clit- licking, sucking and biting on your bundle of nerves instantly. your back arches off the bed and you thrust your fingers into the sheets, keeping yourself grounded as he begins to eat you out.

his long tongue fucks itself into your throbbing hole, your legs beginning to shake just from the pure euphoric feeling of this demons mouth.

"j-jay oh my g-od pl-please" you hiccup, your eyes slowly close as you're left seeing stars. the way your pussy clenches down onto his tongue makes him question how on earth are you going to be able to take his cock... because its bigger than the average human... much bigger.

he's worried he would quite literally split you in half.

but you're such a good girl, so he know's you'll be able to take it.

your legs move on their own, helping your hips grind into his face in search of your orgasm. Jay alternates from splitting you open with his tongue, to licking and sucking on your puffy clit.

he laps at you like a dog in heat; as if his life depends on it.

he's set on completely and utterly consuming your entire being, making you one with him.

you feel a knot begin to form, jumbled and beyond tangled as his tongue works its magic on your virgin clit, and you feel that knot start to unravel; quickly.

Jay moves his hand to your pussy, pushing one of his long, thick fingers into your pussy, resulting in a choked moan to sound from just above him. you squeeze around his digit that's curling and twisting up inside you in order to graze that candy-sweet spot deep inside your walls.

"c-cum please.. wan' cum jay please" his eyes never look away from you, witnessing all the pretty faces you make as you create a mess all over his face, your juices dripping down his chin to stain the bedding below.

"let go baby, make a mess all over me sweet girl" and so you do, your back arching as your legs move in an attempt to squeeze around his head, his tongue not letting up the quick pace he has set whilst eating you out.

your taste is heavenly as you cream all over his face, pulling his fingers out of you to wrap his arms around your legs in order to pull your pussy impossible closer to him. your juices stain his entire face as you orgasm, your stomach feels tight and your walls flutter around nothing in particular apart from the air.

you come down from your high just as jay sits up, peeling off the shorts in order to reveal his cock and oh fuck...

he was fucking massive. his tip was leaking pretty pearls of precum that drip down his length as his dick springs up to hit his stomach, reaching passed his belly button.

his cock was so fucking pretty, veins complimenting his girth that run up his entire length and his tip was tan-ish pink, your mouth instantly dried at the sight.

"'s big.. 'nd pretty.." you whisper, your gaze already completely fucked out. you glow in the moonlight, the way you look is nothing short of angelic- and even more. your hands reach out for him, a silent plea for him to come closer.

you need to touch him, feel him, take him.

every fiber of your being craves the man before you, possessively. he crawls over you, his large hand coming to cup your cheek, his forehead resting on yours as he takes his cock into his other hand, pressing his tip against your clit.

your eyes stare into his as he rubs his dick up and down your wet slit, gathering your slick before pushing his tip in.

the stretch hurts an unbelievable amount, and you see his wings shudder at the feeling of your cunt's squeeze. your hands move on their own, coming to grips the top of his pitch black wings to keep yourself steady.

he slowly pushes inside you, thoughts beginning to pop up in your mind if he's going to tear you.

your breathing turns rapid and your eyes start to roll into the back of your head with every fucking centimeter, but jay can't take his eyes off of how a bulge begins to form in your lower abdomen the more he pushes himself inside you.

"so small.. such a tiny little girl, I could break you so easily" he speaks to himself, the way your drenched cunt sucks him in causes him to thrust his entire length inside you, his balls smacking the skin of your ass.

a pained cream scratches its way out of your throat, your nails dig into his wings while tears spill down your cheeks for the nth time that night. he trails his eyes up to your face, leaning down to kiss away the salty tears on your face before kissing your forehead.

you squirm around under him, his entire body swallowing yours while you adjust to his length. his cock pushes up passed your cervix and you swear his tip kisses your god damn stomach.

"j-jay 's too much- can't... pleaase oh god." your helpless squirming continues, but he only hushes you.

"you can take it sweet thing, such a good girl f' me yeah?" you nod your head, his hips moving in order to start thrusting inside of you. it takes a little for the stinging to go away, the pain being replaced by earth shattering pleasure as his pace picks up.

the hand on your face moves to hold himself up on his forearm, resting above your head as the other holds onto your waist, keeping you in place as he fucks himself into you at a rougher, meaner pace that has your nails drawing blood from his wings.

he splits you completely open, the bulge in your belly disappearing and reappearing with every thrust of his hips that snap against yours ruthlessly. you throw your head back into the pillow, your back arching off the mattress. your cunt squeezes down on him tightly, milking him completely dry.

the sounds of skin slapping fill the entire house along side deep groans coming from the demon that takes your breath away, complimented with the perfect melody of your high-pitched, sweet moans.

a white ring forms at the base of jay's cock, a symbol of your guy's unison as one. his balls smack against you.

he lifts his hand up from the mattress above your head, gripping onto the bed frame instead. his nails dig into the skin of your waist so harshly, jay can almost feel blood under his fingernails.

your legs begin to kick around while your hole flutters around jays dick like the prettiest butterfly that's been caught in the devils cage- keeping you all for himself, your beauty being seen for his eyes and his eyes alone.

another orgasm begins to over flow, jay helping you tip it over. your hands move from his gigantic wings in order to grip the sheets besides you, your jaw slacking open while your moans pick up hefty volume.

Jay senses your orgasm before you do, so he sits up and leans back, both hands finding their way to your hips in order to force your body down onto his cock as his pace turns insane, fucking you senseless from the inside out. your body is lifted up into the air apart from your shoulders and head which lay on the comfortable mattress.

"oh my god h-holy fuck s' full, no no can't, please" you shake your head from side to side, your cheeks completely soaked with tears from the scorching pleasure your entire body feels, each thrust feeling like heatwaves that course through your veins .

"look at you; a pathetic, needy little mess. gonna breed this fucking pussy until my cum is dripping out of your hole. would you like that sweetheart?" you nod your head, not understanding a word hes saying.

the coil snaps, your orgasm squirting all over his chest and abdomen.

jay tongues his cheek, a smile forming on his face as he decides to fuck you through your orgasm. overstimulation controls your senses, your hands find his chest in an attempt to push him away.

"no s-stop please, no no please" your words make him scoff, his eyes hold all the lust imaginable as he effortlessly flips you over onto your stomach before landing a stinging slap on your ass.

"shut up" he grips your hair and pulls, your back arching and your scalp burns. he leans down to your ear, licking the skin behind it before speaking.

"you're gonna take whatever I give you like a good little girl, understand?" before getting an answer, he pushes your face into the sheets and spreads your legs, inserting his cock back into your messy, abused hole.

he resumes his pace, his tip kissing passed your cervix painfully as you lay down and take it. your pleasured sounds are swallowed by the pillows on your bed, your hands pull at the sheets desperately and you feel yourself begin to fall apart.

bursts of colors are seen behind your eyelids as you cum once more, making jay throw his head back with one particularly loud groan. he slaps your ass once more, the red hand print taking up the entirety of your ass cheek.

"'m almost done darling, I got you baby, I got you im right here" he hears your loud moans turn into quiet mewls, your drool soaks the pillow beneath you.

his words make you squeeze his length one last time as he shoots his warm ropes of cum deep into your body, completing his final wish in making you his.

"shh baby, its okay im right here"

౨ৎ taglist ;

@honeybelleee

[ak319]

i hope this one is different so you dont think it's repetitive... arthur become jealous whenever (teen?) reader show affection/politeness to the members of van der linde gang!! she is so kind and caring, it's like arthur gave all of his positive emotions to her.

i hope you're not too overwhelmed <3

(AN: It was fun to write this, lmao, and I'm good, thanks for asking! <3<3)

Warnings: Not incest, strictly platonic, fluff

Arthur stretched, savoring the cool evening breeze as he woke from his afternoon nap. Rubbing his eyes, he scanned the camp, noticing some of the boys lounging around, and then his gaze fell on you. You were nestled beside Hosea, who was explaining something, gesturing with a worn book in hand. The two of you looked deep in conversation, and Arthur’s jaw tightened just a touch.

Of course. You and Hosea with those endless stories.

Arthur strolled over, trying to keep his voice casual. “(Y/n)... my coffee?”

You looked up, blinking as if you’d just noticed him. “It’s in the pot.”

“So?”

“So… go get it?” You turned back to Hosea without a second thought, the two of you picking up right where you left off, as if Arthur wasn’t even there.

Arthur’s mouth opened in slight disbelief. So he’s gotta get it himself now? Is that how it is? He clearly saw you serving one to Hosea before he went to nap.

He stomped over to the coffee pot, pouring a little too forcefully, spilling half of it over the side. Huffing, he took a bitter sip, casting a sidelong glare at you and Hosea. You were still engrossed, nodding eagerly as Hosea continued his storytelling, clearly delighted by the attention.

You, Hosea, and those books. Why didn’t you tell him stories like that, like when you were little, always rambling on about what you’d read or about anything? He couldn’t help thinking, Maybe if he’d acted interested back then…Even now, both of you barely chatted ever since settling here.

Determined to stake his claim, he grabbed a chair, dragging it loudly across the ground until he was right in front of you both. He plopped down with his coffee, not budging.

You and Hosea paused, exchanging a look as Arthur sat there, arms crossed, expression defiant. He took a loud sip, smirking a bit. “What? Go on, I’m only listenin’. ”

Hosea chuckled, giving you a gentle nudge to continue, but Arthur’s smirk softened as he watched you. He wasn’t about to let anyone else claim his spot as the one you looked up to, even if he had to work for it sometimes.

⋆⋆⋆

“Charles, here, I bought it,” you said, holding out a small glass bottle.

Charles put down his dagger, inspecting the vial with a pleased nod. “Hm, thanks, (Y/n). This’ll be really helpful. I'll be sure to use it.”

Before Charles could say much else, Arthur’s gun clattered down onto the table, his gaze zeroed in on the bottle in his hand. “Woah, woah, what is that?”

You folded your arms, already anticipating his reaction. “It’s rosemary oil. It’s good for hair, you know? I use it too, and Charles was complaining about hair fall. You should use it too Arthur.”

Arthur’s eyebrow shot up, his lips pressing together as he rolled his eyes and resumed cleaning his gun. Hair oil? Really? He bit back a scoff, the faint irritation simmering in his expression. The things you’d done for Charles lately, you were really taking him being your 'other brother' thing too seriously, acting like he was the camp’s best friend and personal confidant. More like 'other better brother' at this point.

"My hair's fine." He pouted which was subtle enough for both of you to miss.

Maybe you thought Charles was better than him somehow. Was it because of his hair? Arthur’s eyes flicked over to Charles’s neatly braided locks and he bristled, pushing away that little jab of jealousy. Those braids were another evidence of your craft and experiments on him.

“By the way, Charles-" you started.

Arthur snapped up, feigning nonchalance as he muttered, “What’re you askin’ him now, huh? Got another herbal concoction to fuss over or a new hairstyle?”

“Actually,” you continued, ignoring his tone, “I was thinking Charles could teach me some tracking. Thought it’d be useful when you sometimes take me to hunt.”

Arthur’s jaw tightened slightly. He tried to play it cool, returning to his gun, but not before muttering, “Right… and just let me know when you’re done with all that ‘learnin’. Don’t need you forgettin’ your real chores now, got it?” You huffed slightly in reply, embarrassed and stomped away. He seemed to love bringing up your damn chores.

⋆⋆⋆

You peeked through the tent flap, hesitating slightly before stepping in. Arthur lay back on his cot, one knee propped up as he casually read through his journal. The sight of him looking so calm made your stomach twist just a bit, this wasn’t the look of someone who called you in for a friendly chat.

“Arthur… you called?” you asked cautiously, stepping inside.

He didn’t even look up, but you could sense the tension in his posture. “What is up with what I heard?”

You chuckled nervously, playing innocent. “Heard what?”

Finally, he glanced at you, setting his journal aside. "Feeding Kieran. An O’Driscoll, for God’s sake, and a captive one at that. You think that’s a good idea? Are you nuts?!”

You folded your arms, barely batting an eye. “What, we’re just gonna starve him to death in camp? That’s a great plan,” you said, throwing a glance toward Dutch’s tent with an exaggerated scowl.

Arthur caught the look, his gaze hardening. "Hey, don’t go blaming Dutch for making sense. You think Kieran’s just some stray dog? He’s a danger, and feeding him, treating him like… like one of us, it just ain’t wise.”

"But Mary- Beth did it too, why didn't-"

"I don't care what she did! I am talkin' to you right now! Also, she only gave him water while you served a damn feast to his ass. So, you...listen to me. Got it?" Not your fault that you cooked well and wanted everyone to have a taste. Poor guy was dying out there just from the smell of it.

“But why?” you retorted, the fire in your voice undeniable. “You’re all acting like he’s gonna break loose and take us all down with a spoon. He’s tied up. He's a person, Arthur, not a monster. And maybe, just maybe, if everyone here wasn’t so fast to turn people into enemies, half of this mess wouldn’t even exist! This isn't what mother taught us, Arthur.”

Arthur’s expression shifted from anger to something deeper, like a storm passing over. “Don't bring her into this! This is a different life from what we came from, why do you keep insisting upon those memories?” His voice softened but kept its edge. “And that big heart of yours? It’ll get you hurt if you’re not careful. I don’t want to be pulling you outta trouble because you’re tryin’ to see the good in a damn O’Driscoll. Now, are we clear?”

You stared back at him, the defiance slipping just a little as you noticed the strain in his eyes. Beneath his anger was worry, and for a moment, you softened too.

“Fine, fine, I made a mistake, apparently, and I’ll stay clear of him,” you mumbled. Being human here seems to be a crime.

⋆⋆⋆

You walked into the camp’s small, makeshift office, the familiar smell of paper and ink in the air. Strauss was hunched over a pile of bills and coins, his glasses perched precariously on his nose as he jotted down figures. His furrowed brow and concentration didn’t go unnoticed.

"Hey, Strauss," you called out softly, stepping into the room.

He looked up, adjusting his glasses as a small smile appeared on his face. “Ah, (Y/n), good to see you. Just trying to get these numbers in order, but it’s a bit too much for one pair of hands.”

You moved closer, casually offering your assistance. “Mind if I help?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’d be willing to help count all this?”

“Sure,” you replied, already rolling up your sleeves. “Looks like you’ve got a lot on your hands.”

Strauss chuckled softly, clearly appreciative. “I suppose that’s why I always need help with these things. It’s too much to do alone, even for someone as meticulous as me.”

You settled next to him, carefully picking up a stack of bills and sorting them by denomination. The coins came next, their jingling noise filling the air as you organized them into neat little piles. Strauss watched, impressed by how quickly and efficiently you worked, and before long, everything was sorted and ready to be counted.

“By my word, (Y/n), you’ve done this faster than I could’ve hoped,” he said, adjusting his glasses again, his tone warm with praise. “It’s quite clear you have an eye for details.”

You smiled, grateful for the compliment. “I’ve had some practice.”

Strauss leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. Then, with a slight flourish, he pulled a few bills from the pile and handed them to you. “As a token of my appreciation, take this,” he said, his voice warm. “A few dollars for your help. I think you’ve earned it.”

"No, no , please, no need for this. Thank you, though."

"C'mon, kid, like I said you earned it or just think of it as a gift."

You kept politely declining him but he forced the cash in your hand and the flap of the tent suddenly opened, and Arthur stepped inside, his boots thudding loudly against the floor as his eyes immediately narrowed at the scene.

Ugh.

"You givin' her a loan or something, Strauss?" He threw you a sharp look. You were well aware that he didn't appreciate you asking others for things.

"It’s not like that!" you snapped, already feeling your frustration building. “I helped him, that’s all. I didn’t ask for anything, Arthur. I wasn’t even about to take it!”

Arthur’s expression didn’t soften. In one swift motion, he turned back to the desk, and without a second thought, he placed the money you had been holding, still in your hand, back onto the table. He dropped it with a bit more force than necessary, the sound of it clinking harshly against the wood "Well, like I said, no need," he muttered, his voice polite but edged with an authority that suggested he just wanted to end the conversation. “Let’s go.”

You stumbled slightly as he nudged you toward the door. "You takin' handouts from him? Don't I give you enough pocket money already?" Arthur’s voice was tight with disapproval as he guided you out of the small room, his fingers almost too firm on your arm.

You shook your head, refusing to let the tension get the best of you. "Oh my God, he was just being nice, you damn well know I am not like that!" you muttered, glancing back at Strauss, who had returned to his work, probably already regretting offering you anything at all. "I didn’t ask for anything."

Arthur huffed, his mood sour. “And never do. I don’t trust that man with money.” He gave you a quick, pointed look as he nudged you forward, his steps quick and purposeful. “Go do somethin' else. Get out of here, kid. I don’t want to see you dealin’ with him.”

You bit back the sharp retort that formed on your lips. Instead, you let out a sigh, recognizing the stubbornness in your brother’s tone. “Fine. I’m going. Jeez,” you muttered, feeling a little put out as you walked away, already knowing this conversation wasn’t going to be the last of it.

⋆⋆⋆

Arthur nearly choked as he took another bite of the stew, his throat burning with the intense heat. He quickly grabbed his canteen, taking a few desperate gulps, trying to quench the fiery sensation that was assaulting him. What the hell was this? He wiped his mouth, glaring at the bowl like it personally offended him. What the fuck…

His hand slammed the canteen back down onto the table, and he stomped over to Pearson’s cooking station, frustration bubbling up inside him. “Why the hell is this so spicy?!”

Pearson looked up with a nonchalant grin, clearly unbothered by Arthur’s indignation. “It is? I think it’s scrumptious. Plus, (Y/N) cooked it, some Mexican recipe. Javier was feeling a little down today, so I thought I’d let her make it for him...cheer him up a bit.”

Javier, huh? Arthur’s blood began to simmer with something far more heated than the stew he just choked down. His jaw tightened as he turned on his heel and stormed towards you, who was happily swinging under the tree, carefree and unaware of the storm brewing in your brother’s chest.

"If he’s sad, does that mean you get to give me an ulcer?!" Arthur’s voice cracked like thunder, cutting through the air. “What, did you pour the whole damn bottle of chilies in this thing?”

You rolled your eyes without missing a beat and kept swinging like a kid, not even bothering to look at him as you kicked your legs lazily, enjoying the gentle breeze. “You’re being dramatic. Everyone licked their fingers clean. Even Molly liked it."

Arthur’s face contorted with disbelief as he approached you, the irritation in his veins flaring up like wildfire. Everyone? Of course. Everyone loved what you made. How could they not? You were sweet, and everything you did, even if it caused chaos, seemed to be met with nothing but approval. It’s a strange cycle, really, if you think about it. You’ve got this sweetness about you that makes it impossible for anyone to complain, even when you’re walking all over boundaries, like cooking up some wild, fiery dish for Javier. No one says a word, not even when you turn the camp upside down, because they’re all too afraid of making you upset, or worse, 'messing with Arthur's sister'.

And that’s when it gets tricky for him. All this unspoken leniency has slowly given you free rein, a field to roam in, and it’s hurting him in ways he can’t even explain. It's like you've unknowingly got the upper hand, and every little thing you do chips away at his patience, even when you’re just being you.

His lips curled into a hard, annoyed frown, and he leaned in close, voice low and harsh. “You listen here, brat," he growled, irritation lacing every word. "I’ve had a long day, and I damn well deserve a proper meal when I come back.”

Before you could even respond, Javier appeared from behind, sensing the rising tension between you two. He flashed a grin and confidently strolled over, his voice smooth and cheerful as he clapped his hands together. “Ah, but hermano Arthur,” Javier teased in his thick accent, completely unfazed by the tension. “Maybe it is not the food that is the problem, hmm? Maybe it’s your taste buds that need some...adjusting.”

Arthur’s brow furrowed, his temper threatening to snap. He was about to retaliate when Javier continued, his voice warm and inviting.

“No no,” Javier continued, ignoring Arthur’s scowl entirely. “(Y/N)'s cooking is the best here. Nobody can do it quite like she can.”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head, but part of you could feel the tension between them rise, even if it wasn’t entirely apparent to you, "Oh , it's nothing really."

As Arthur glared at you, his frustration mounting with every word that left your mouth, Javier, ever the peacekeeper and always with a grin on his face, flashed his usual cheeky smile, and before either of you could say anything, he burst into song, his deep voice carrying through the air with effortless charm. The dulcet tone of the guitar was sweet to you, yet bitter to Arthur.

“Oh, (Y/N), who brings the light,

To the fire, and to the night,

His voice was smooth, almost theatrical as he continued, completely ignoring the scowl Arthur was throwing his way.

“The stew you make, so full of spice,

Turns every frown to something nice,

And though it burns, we can’t resist,

The magic in your tender twist...”

Arthur muttered under his breath. "You better stop singing before I lose my damn mind," he grumbled, but his voice was laced with an unmistakable irritation that he couldn’t quite hide, even if he tried.

Javier finished his song with a flourish, giving you a playful wink as he stepped back, clearly proud of his impromptu performance. “And that, mi amiga, is a little song of thanks,” he said, his grin wide, while he sauntered away while Arthur bore daggers at his back.

Arthur turned back to you, arms folded tightly over his chest as he narrowed his eyes. “Was that all a silly prank of yours or something?” he asked, his tone stiff with a mix of irritation and jealousy.

You, however, couldn’t hold back the laughter. The ridiculousness of it all was just too much. You burst into a guffaw, your shoulders shaking with amusement, and the sound was enough to disarm Arthur, just a little.

You looked up at him, barely able to contain your grin. “Depends…” you teased, still giggling, making it worse for Arthur.

Arthur’s scowl deepened, but only for a moment. When he saw that sparkle in your eyes and how you couldn’t stop smiling, he felt a soft tug at his heart. "Kid, you’re a menace for real," he muttered, the words half-hearted, even though he was secretly relieved to see you happy in this new life.

[sonotpattismith]

my blues for my brain (megumi fushiguro x reader)

word count: 8.7k inspired by: fate by grey reverend content: angst, fluff, mentions of car accidents, hospitals, invisible string theory, me pretending gojo is still alive for my mental health

“Please don’t leave me here.”

These words were ones all too familiar to you, in an all too familiar scenario. The difference was, it wasn’t you clinging to life with blood soaked skin. Instead, it was the strange boy that had just raced out of the over-priced cafe that you worked at to make a dime during your summer semesters. 

You could recall the exact, desperate words falling from your own lips as a good samaritan crouched in front of you just a few years back, your fingertips just a hair away from death’s door. In an act that would serve to veer you off any sense of understanding for your purpose in life, that person didn’t leave you to die, despite the chaos that was ensuing around him. When you woke, you had more questions that filled your prayers than thanks. 

Why did you live if others had died the same fate that was allotted to your own life? There was meaning to everything that happened in one’s life— at least that’s what everyone told you when you woke in your hospital bed. What was the meaning of this though? Were you meant to find a new purpose in your life; was this meant to steer you in the right path? If so, why did you end up working a minimum wage job as you scraped up enough money for a college education you still had little to no clue what you wanted to do with yet? 

Up until that day, as the pale stranger’s desperate grip on your hand slowly weakened with his waning consciousness, you were sure you had failed whatever god saved you all those years ago. As the man before you opened his eyes for the briefest of moments to beg for your mercy, you thought meaning had finally found you. 

“You’d think for a café in the middle of one of the busiest streets in Tokyo that there would be a little more excitement in here every once and a while.” Your coworker droned as she stared at the front door, which hadn’t opened in exactly forty-one minutes. Who was counting though? 

You shouldered into her with a half-hearted smile as you made yourself a mid-shift drink. Today’s choice happened to be a matcha latte, though you often switched it up for the sake of having something new to look forward to everyday. Peering back at her and then toward the hustle and bustle just outside the shop, you sighed dejectedly. What meaning did standing behind this counter for hours a day have? Perhaps you should be enjoying the life that was granted back to you so fortunately, you thought as you trailed an absentminded finger down the scar that ran down your arm. 

Snapping from your haze, you offered her the most encouraging smile you could muster in the midst of your perpetual existential crisis. 

“Staring at the door isn’t going to make customers appear.” You scolded, and she peered over at you with a bored glare, to which you chuckled lightly. “Quick, pick a syrup, and we’ll put it in my matcha to see if we’re horrible at our jobs or not.”

At this, an amused smile stretched across her face, and she quickly straightened up to look over the options. As you two bickered over which of you had more abysmal taste than the other, the rare chime of the front door interrupted your concocting session. The both of you snapped up like dogs who just heard their food bowl rattle in the next room. 

Appearing slightly out of breath and frantic, a man stepped into the café. There was a determination in his step as he rushed over to the register and rested his hand atop the counter to lean in with purpose. There were prominent, pink scars lining his face, so large in size and quantity that you wondered what kind of trouble someone seemingly your age could have gotten himself into already. Forgoing your growing curiosity, you mustered up a welcoming smile. 

“Welcome! Can I get—”

“Did you see anything strange passing around here just a second ago?” The two of you spoke at the same time, but he paid no mind to your cut-off question as he stared expectantly at you. 

Your mouth slowly shut, brows furrowing in the process as you tried to recall anything that had happened in the last five minutes, but the only memories that surfaced were you trying to decide between lavender or hazelnut syrup. 

“Maybe we have, but we reserve the right to withhold answers for paying customers, actually.” Your coworker chimed in with a mischievous smile, clearly just desperate for any business on this slower-than-usual day. The raven-haired man sighed indignantly.

“This is serious—”

“So is our no loitering policy.” You had to repress a tickled smile at her persistence. She smiled triumphantly as he grumbled and frantically fished a few spare yen from his pockets and slammed them on the table. 

“A black coffee!” He growled his order at her before returning his attention to you, a scowl set deeply on his already intimidating face. Beside you, your coworker mumbled something in reference to his boring order before working to prepare it. “Now what did you see?”

You almost felt bad after the fact, that you could only pathetically shake your head at his question. 

“I’m sorry, I really haven’t seen anything. What are you looking—”

A frustrated grunt from the disgruntled man cut you off, and before you knew it he was storming out of the café. An amused scoff escaped you as you watched him leave, and your coworker leaned against the counter beside you.

“Just our luck— we ask for entertainment, and we get crazy.” She commented with a shake of her head. “He left his coffee, too.”

This made you tear your gaze from the door to the lidded, brown cup she set down on the counter. His yen were still sat messily before you, and you suddenly felt bad for having coerced him into buying something. Peering out to see him speaking to a few pedestrians just outside the shop, you grasped the cup and exited your post behind the register. 

“Hey!” You called out, ignoring your coworker’s questioning as you poked your head out the door. Sighing when he appeared too preoccupied to notice your calls, you prepared to try one more time as he continued his frantic trek through the bustling city. “You forgot your—”

The blaring sound of a truck’s horn sliced through your attempted good deed of the day, and you could only watch in stone-cold horror as the offending vehicle slammed into your distracted customer. His uniform-clad body jolted across the street with a velocity you had trouble keeping up with. Your eyes wouldn’t allow you to stop following the movements no matter how hard you tried though. The steaming cup in your hands slipped from your trembling fingers before splattering across the ground in tandem with the stranger’s blood across the street. 

Vehicle’s horns were blaring behind the truck that had come to a screeching halt. Behind you, your coworker rushed out, shouting words you couldn’t process in your shell-shocked state. You watched with vast, unblinking eyes as his body finally rolled to a stop, and he twitched out in agony. With unwavering precision, you could swear you knew the exact pain that was coursing through his body at that moment; the fear that must be setting his wounds ablaze. It wasn’t that long ago that it was you, laying in uncertainty, at the mercy of whoever might have felt your life was worthy enough to try saving. 

So, you ripped your arm out of your coworker’s frantic grip, and your legs raced toward the scene. The truck driver was stumbling out of the driver’s seat, a horror-stricken expression etched onto his features as you dropped down to your knees beside the barely conscious man. Blood coated the corners of his lips as he continued to weakly sputter up the substance. 

“Oh my god,” You babbled mindlessly, hands hovering over him as you contemplated what to do. As if reacting to your voice, his head swayed in your direction, but his eyes remained shut. He was pale— dare you say even paler than he was when he walked into your shop just moments ago. “Call an ambulance!” You shouted at the truck driver, who seemed to be too shell-shocked to spring into action himself. Upon hearing your frantic order, he immediately began fumbling with his cellphone. 

Turning your attention back to the stranger, you noted he was now struggling to pry his eyes open, a deep navy color squinting back at you. 

“Can you hear me?” You questioned, fingers twitching with the urge to turn him on his side in an attempt to prevent him choking on his own blood. You didn’t know what was broken though, so you opted to carefully tilt his head toward you. He only stared deliriously up at you as blood began to ooze from the side of his mouth. “Is there someone I can call? 

Megumi’s mind was in a state all too familiar to him though. It clung on the border between life and death, and, in the past, it was a constant struggle of whether or not it was worth fighting to get through. Now though, he was desperately grasping at the straws of his consciousness. It was his first mission by himself after the trauma his mind and body had endured during the Culling Games. After everything he’d gone through, all the battles he’d fought and the mental strife he’d worked through, this couldn’t possibly be how he left this world. A meaningless and pitiful death— is that what he would have to show for when his friends asked what became of him in the end?

“Hey, hey, stay awake, okay?” Megumi was pulled from his wallowing thoughts by the frantic voice above him, and it sounded as though he was under water, though it wouldn’t surprise him if there was blood in his ears as well. His lips parted, but all that left them was a strangled groan. Your fingers, still warm from his black coffee that had just been clutched in your hand, squeezed gently at his cheeks as though to rouse him from sleep. They slipped from his face and fell into his hand, giving his fingers a soft squeeze. “Squeeze my hand if you can hear me.”

Weakly, you felt his trembling fingers grasp back at your hand. You found yourself smiling encouragingly at him, though you doubted he could see it. The sirens of an oncoming ambulance had you looking behind you, and you could see the flashing lights in the distance cutting across the traffic. From your peripheral, you saw your coworker racing out toward you, pushing through the small crowd that had formed. 

“He just— it came out of nowhere. He’s—”

“He’s suspicious as fuck.” She finished for you, concern pooling in her eyes as she grabbed your free hand in an attempt to tug you up. As you stumbled a bit, you felt the stranger’s cold hand grasp at your wrist, turning your attention back to him. “Let’s go, the ambulance is already here. This guy was probably caught up in some seriously shady shit.” 

She was right, and you knew it. It was evident from the grotesque and oddly placed scars that lined his face, the strange uniform he donned, down to the odd questions and abrupt departure he had graced you with before the accident. Still, your memories of meeting the exact same fate kept you empathetically tied to his side as you peered down at him apprehensively. He opened his eyes once again, and it appeared as though he was mustering every last bit of strength he had left. His fingers wrapped around your wrist desperately as his lips parted to plea with you.

“Please don’t leave me.”

It was a cry that was so uncharacteristic of him, but he only knew one thing at the moment. The warmth of your hand and the soothing sound of your voice was the only thing tying him down to the land of the living. Without your grounding, he felt he may slip away, resigned to the fate he had just fought so valiantly to avoid. 

The plea clutched at your heartstrings as the paramedics rushed to the scene. They were bustling around you, asking you questions while simultaneously shouting foreign terminology at each other as they immediately began tending to the situation at hand. Your eyes remained locked on the stranger’s as they slowly drifted shut, and he offered one last desolate squeeze to your hand before darkness seemed to consume him. 

“Ma’am,” The gruff voice of the paramedic beside you pulled you from your trance, and it was then that you noticed the tear that slipped down your cheek. Blinking it away, you looked up at the man, still shell-shocked. “Do you know this man?”

“I…” Your words got caught in your throat as his final plea rang in your ears. Glancing up, you saw your coworker on the other side of the sea of medical personelle, shaking her had at you with wide eyes. In your palm though, the limp, cold hand of the stranger still lay. “He’s my partner.” You lied in a haze, watching as they prepared to carefully shift him onto a stretcher. 

Your lie earned you a ride in the ambulance beside him, staring in an absent haze as the team moved like ants around him, peeling his lids back to check his eyes with a tiny light, cutting his shirt down the middle to check his vitals, prying an oxygen mask over his parted lips and expertly starting an IV on his limp arm despite the rustling of the fast-paced vehicle. They attributed your inability to answer any questions to your shock, which was partially true, but you also feared revealing your white lie to them with the wrong responses. 

Police were awaiting you at the hospital when the ambulance came to a screeching halt.  They questioned you about the accident and what you had seen. You complied easily, however couldn’t help but grow nervous once the staff at the hospital asked you to fill out paperwork on your ‘partner’s’ behalf. 

The pen in your hand shook as you stared down at the first blanks. 

FIRST NAME

LAST NAME

Of which you knew neither. 

“Is everything alright?” The soft voice of a compassionate nurse questioned as she typed away at her computer, likely awaiting your information to complete his admission. 

You looked up at her patient eyes, and you couldn’t hold back your lie any longer, explaining to her what had actually happened. Her slow nod made you feel guilty, as she thanked you for your honesty and explained the paperwork would be different now as they had no way to identify the stranger. He had no identification on him, and the cellphone they’d found in his pocket had shattered in the midst of the accident.

Perhaps you should have gone home after you’d given them all the information they needed, but you stayed in the small waiting room, anxiously bouncing your leg and chewing on your lip. As hours seemed to pass by, you’d perk up each time someone would come in, hoping any of the visitors would be coming to claim the stranger that was currently being tended to in the intensive care unit. They each came and went though, and you remained the only one awaiting him under the fluorescent lights. 

Your eyes were beginning to burn when the nurse you had spoken to hours prior walked carefully up to you, that compassionate smile everpresent on her lips. 

“I know there’s no relation, but I thought you’d like to know his condition is relatively stable as of right now.” She offered, causing you to sit up in the stiff, plastic chair. 

“Thank you��� really.” You sighed breathlessly to which she nodded in return. For a moment, you wondered if you were overstepping by asking for anymore details. Casting your eyes down to your lap, you chewed pensively on your lip. She seemed to take note of your bashful apprehension, smiling knowingly. 

“You’re currently the only contact we have for him. There wouldn’t be a problem if you wanted to pay him a visit.”

So, with your fingers wringing nervously at the hem of your shirt, you followed the nurse through the unit and to the room he was occupying. Though you had seen first hand the damage the accident had done to him, you still had to bite back a shocked gasp upon seeing the various monitors he was hooked up to, as well as the clear tube running into his mouth and down his throat. You had endless questions for the god-sent nurse, but she had already mentioned that her shift was ending, so you didn’t want to hold her any longer. 

“He hasn’t woken up yet, but they can still hear you, you know?” She explained with an encouraging smile as she leaned against the doorframe. Tearing your gaze from the various lines and tubes connected to him, you peered back at her in shock, but the nurse only nodded affirmatively at you. “It helps. Especially since he’s by himself.” 

Following her polite goodbye with a promise that she’d be back on shift tomorrow morning, you were left alone with the stranger. It was silent in the sterile room, only the persistent beeping of his monitors filling the space around you. A shiver ran down your spine as if the below normal temperatures of the hospital were finally catching up to you as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. 

“This would’ve been a lot easier if you had stayed back to drink your stupid, black coffee.” You began hesitantly as you circled the raised bed. Pursing your lips, you slowly sat down on the chair beside him. Toying with the end of the blanket that hung off the bed, the ragged rise and fall of his chest caught your attention, and you wondered how much of it was thanks to the tube running down his throat. “I wonder if you ever found what you were looking for.” 

As an assistant came in to check on him, you peered awkwardly down at your lap while they checked his vitals. Once done with the routine checks, you watched her move the blanket back over him and gently adjust certain chords to settle more comfortably around him. It made your heart warm that they seemed so attentive to his comfort, even if he wasn’t conscious enough to notice. You thanked her quietly as she departed from the room. 

“You know the nurse’s assistant was the only one in the room with me when I first woke up after my accident.” You explained to the unconscious man before you. A fond smile settled onto your lips. “My parents had stepped out for a while just to get some food. Just their luck, huh? He held my hand while I was waking up so I wasn’t all by myself. It meant the world to me.”

It felt as though Megumi was trapped right back in the barrier between his mind and his soul— helpless to find an escape. This time around though, he had more of a will to fight. There was no way he had gone through everything and exhausted his mind, body, and soul, all to meet his demise because he didn’t look both ways before crossing the damn street. Another part of him wondered if this was fate granting him mercy. Perhaps if he didn’t die here, hooked up to all these tubes and machines, his cards held something sacreligious— a gruesome and grotesque death rather than the comparably mundane one that had befallen him. After all he’d been through, maybe this was blissful; the only happy ending that could be promised to him. 

As he lay in that strange veil of unconsciousness though, as if at the bottom of a pool, looking up and barely able to see the sun’s light poking up from the surface— someone was there with him. Your voice sounded as though it was just above the feet of water that separated him from life, muffled but still familiar. It was the same voice that had coaxed him into trusting his body to let go, not knowing whether or not it would be strong enough to reemerge again. 

His brows furrowed— that he could feel, and he willed himself to swim up to the surface as the soft hum of your tired rambling filled his ears. Why were you here? Why were you still here? The sorcerer needed to know, and the urge pushed him to keep struggling against the surface pressure that weighed him down. 

You weren’t sure how long you had sat there mindlessly babbling to the unresponsive man. Wariness was beginning to weigh down on your eyes and shoulders though, likely because you had been up since four that morning to prepare for your shift. If you stopped talking, you thought you might flop over and pass out yourself. He couldn’t be by himself when he woke up, you determined. 

Some staff had come in and dimmed the lights in the room what seemed like hours ago, so they weren’t so harsh in your tired eyes as you tilted your head back to stare at the ceiling while spewing out anything that came to mind. 

“My coworker finally texted me, you know. She said the only weird thing that passed by the shop today was you. Are you in some kind of gang? It would explain the uniform and all the…” Your rambling slowly died out as the sound of sheets rustling filled your ears. In an instant, you were sitting up properly in your uncomfortable chair. His hand twitched against the sheets, and you breathed out in anticipation as you watched his face contort in discomfort. The chair you had been occupying for hours slid back as you stood up abruptly to get a closer look. “Hey— can you hear me?”

Megumi forced his eyes open with what seemed like all the energy left in him. He half expected to be in Shoko’s infirmary with his friends hovering obnoxiously over him, or even in his room where he’d awake in his bed and realize he’d dreamt the entire scenario. The blinding, white ceiling tiles above him were different from the ones he’d grown accustomed to over the years though, and the dull ache radiating through his body served to remind him that he certainly hadn’t been graced by any reverse cursed technique. 

Those mysteriously dark eyes stared incredulously up at the ceiling, and you could see the confusion begin to morph onto his features. All too soon, that confusion shifted into panic as he tried to speak, only to be met by the grueling realization that there was a tube shoved down his throat. 

“It’s okay!” You quickly reassured, placing a careful hand on his shoulder to redirect his attention. With the little he was able to move, his eyes shifted as fast as he could manage to look at you, wide in subtle horror. You took your eyes off him for a second to push the nurse call button to alert them of his waking. “You were in an accident. You’re in the hospital.”

As he peered down at the state of himself, he only seemed more unsettled. You figured it was the mangled state he was left in that freaked him out, but what was going through his head was the mission he’d left behind, along with the curse that was likely still running rampant. Still, his inability to speak paired with his limited mobility certainly didn’t do much to settle his nerves. You watched him become more agitated as he attempted to move each limb to no avail, likely thanks to the arsenal of drugs coursing through his veins. 

“It’s alright, you’re okay.” You insisted, peering out the open door to see if the nurse was nearby. Looking around the room, you left his side for a moment to quickly snatch up a marker from the white board on the wall. You uncapped it and placed it in his hand, securing his weak grip around it before offering your arm. “Is there someone we can call? What’s your name?” 

As he stared incredulously down at your offered up arm, your questions were a jumbled mess in his disoriented mind. All that kept running through his head were questions of who the wide eyed, eager girl at his bedside was, and why her voice had been the only thing he could recall from his supposed accident. Megumi’s fingers trembled as they fought to lift up the marker. A muffled grunt escaped him as he tried to get a grip on it, and it clattered to the floor along with the last string of his patience. 

The sound of the marker clanking against the squeaky clean floor rang in his ears, taunting him in his weak state. Just as he began his attempted thrash against the scratchy sheets, the nurse finally stepped in, picking up her pace a bit as she saw the state of agitation he was in. In an instant, she was dialling someone for help, though you couldn’t be bothered to listen to her, desperate to get any answers out of the stranger. Once again, you offered up your hand to him, placing his fingers against your awaiting palm.

“Trace it on my hand, something—”

“Don’t push him.” The nurse urged as more staff members seemed to flood into the room. She was maneuvering over to the line of his IV with a syringe as she attempted to deescalate the situation herself. “He wasn’t supposed to wake up; if he becomes too agitated he can injure himself further.”

“Wait—” You attempted to stop her as she pushed what you assumed was something to calm him down into his line. Logically, you knew it was in his best interest, however your gnawing curiosity had you hoping he would stay conscious for the least bit longer to provide any answers. It only took seconds though, as the drug flooded his system, and the tension in his shoulders seemed to settle back against the flat bed. His eyelids moved torturously slow as he blinked hazily, and you knew the opportunity had found its way to evade you. 

“I-I’ll wait outside.” The dejected reminder fell from your lips, though you were sure the staff were too occupied to pay you any mind. Just as you moved to get out of their way though, the stranger’s weak fingers laced around your hand. With the waning of his already deplorable strength, you felt the pads of his digits press against you, urging you to stay. Looking up with a quiet gasp, you found his half-lidded eyes on you, a desperation in them that seemed so misplaced on his hard features— even if you didn’t know him. 

Megumi thought maybe if he held onto the now familiar presence that had been beside him all this time, that it would be the one thing to keep him alert enough to continue pushing through the haze of his unconsciousness. Whether it was your continuous, honied voice that pulled him from his drug-induced coma, or the fact that he’d pulled himself out of the depths of chains much stronger than the pharmaceuticals currently in his system, he didn’t know. What he did understand, was that your gentle fingers brushing against his knuckles was practically the only thing he could still feel, and it brought him a comfort he was not prepared to surrender just yet if he were to be pulled under again. 

So, you clung on to his hand as his eyes slowly shut, bleary irises focused on you till the very end as the staff bustled around the room and spoke with the doctors. Even as you felt your own lids growing heavy that night in the darkness of the intensive care room, you couldn’t bring yourself to untangle his fingers from yours. Unable to fight the gravity that weighed down your body to remind you you had been up since four that morning, your head slumped forward and rested on the edge of the bed beside your conjoined hands. 

You hadn’t the energy to think about how odd you may have looked clinging to a complete stranger as you snoozed. Instead, the embarrassment hit you when the kind nurse from the previous day, seemingly having recently clocked in for her shift, gently woke you the next morning with a prepackaged breakfast sandwich. With burning cheeks, you used your free hand to frantically smooth your disheveled hair down and wipe at your under eyes that were undoubtedly smeared with yesterday’s makeup before accepting the food with a shy but grateful smile. 

You waited for her to finish her morning checks on her patient before tearing into the sandwich as your rumbling stomach was demanding of you. In the meantime, she updated you on his condition with jargon that you tried hard to keep up with, but it was offensively early in the morning. Nodding along, you suddenly wished you had paid more attention to all those hospital dramas your roommate used to watch incessantly. A relieved sigh escaped you when she departed, letting you know to press the call button if you needed anything. 

“You’ve really gotta get it together soon, dude.” You commented through a mouthful of bread as you peered over at him thoughtfully. At the very least, you thought, his hand seemed warmer than it had yesterday, and you could only hope that was a good sign. “This hospital food sucks.”

Tossing the wrapper into the small trash bin nearby, you huffed out a sigh. Leaning in closer to him, you hesitantly pushed the thick, black hair away from his face, brushing it gently back against his scalp. A gulp forced its way down your throat at the sight of the thick scars that lined his eyes, and you found yourself carefully brushing against them with baffled curiosity. 

“Who are you?” You whispered, and for a moment you could swear his brows twitched into a furrow.  

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you it’s bad luck to cheat death?” A smoothly amused voice beckoned from the doorway. 

You instantly flinched away from your hovered state over the stranger, the hand that was grasped in his tightening in surprise as you looked up. Leaning against the entry was a tall man that nearly took up the entire door frame. His hair was a striking white that almost rivaled the blinding lights of the hospital room. Though concealed behind dark-rimmed sunglasses, you caught a glimpse of his startling blue eyes as he seemed to tilt his head in amusement at the scene before him. What captured your attention most of all though was the uniform he donned— one nearly identical to the one the mystery patient had been wearing during the accident. 

“Geez, after all you’ve been through, and a truck is what takes you out?” The man’s quip was this time directed at the John Doe, shaking his head with a smile as he slowly strolled into the room. 

“You know him?” You breathed out in relief, watching the fond expression on the man’s face as he scanned over the injuries. 

“Hm? Oh, yeah, he’s my student.” He responded casually, hands shoved into his pockets as he circled the bed curiously. “I assumed he was just ignoring my calls. Go figure, huh?”

The casual lightheartedness in his tone only served to confuse you. You couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that of all the people that came to claim this stranger, his teacher was the first? On top of that, how was he not brimming with concern upon finding the student he seemed so close with in intensive care? Your eyes skimmed down the strange uniform on his long body, lingering just a tad too long on the swirled button on his chest. 

“So, what’s the deal? You a girlfriend he didn’t tell anyone about?” 

Snapping up from your trance, you felt your face heat at his accusation, and you quickly shook your head. The corners of his lips twitched up in amusement. 

“I saw the accident happen.” You explained, allowing your gaze to drift back down to the patient. The edges of your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as you recounted the events of the last twenty-four hours, and you were struck by the absurdity of it all. “He… he asked me not to leave— you know, before he passed out.”

“So you didn’t?” His question sounded more like a statement, you noted. You nodded with a soft sigh. Peering up at the teacher with a pursed lip, your free hand reached up to graze the oddly-shaped scars on your upper arm. 

“I’m sorry if I overstepped. I just… was in a similar accident not too long ago. So, I empathized with him— that kind of fear, you know?” You felt the need to explain it to him, as you were sure you looked like some sort of stalker at the moment. The man didn’t respond, peering pensively down at you for long enough to make you squirm in your seat. “I guess I should go now.”

A wave of unnecessary guilt crashed in your chest as you slowly stood from the chair you had been in for countless hours. Giving once last, lingering regard to the unconscious man, you gulped down the confusing lump in your throat and smiled softly. 

“I hope you find whatever you were looking for.” You whispered, gently sliding your hand from his and placing it carefully over the blanket. Nodding respectfully at the man who had been silently watching the entire encounter, you began walking toward the exit. As you hand grazed the door frame, you turned around apprehensively to find the white-haired man already peering back at you knowingly. “What—What’s his name?”

With a fond smile, the man looked back down at his student as if to say we have a lot to catch up on when your ass wakes up before looking back at you. 

“Megumi.”

His name rang through your mind in the droning days that followed your fated encounter. With every order you rang up, his frantic entrance replayed in your head. Each unfruitful study session paved way for the cinematic replaying of his awakening, projected onto your imagination over and over until it became your favorite film that lulled you into relentless, insomniatic nights.

You wondered if his condition had improved, if he had left the hospital, if he was wondering about the girl who he clung onto at his most vulnerable. As the days dragged on, and you wistfully poured out a customer’s black coffee, you realized you had left those answers behind in the hospital room that morning. Still, the more logical part of your mind told you it was for the best given the concerningly curious circumstances of his accident. Additionally, the equally mysterious man that had come to claim Megumi only fanned the flames of your suspicions. 

Despite the impending sense of danger that came each time that supposed teacher’s words rang in your head—

“After all you’ve been through, and a truck is what takes you out?”

You weren’t sure if it was your concern over his recovery, or the gnawing curiosity about the life he led that had you walking back into the hospital almost a full week later. Whichever it was, it was strong enough to push down the nerves fluttering in your stomach as you walked up to the familiar reception front desk. It was the same woman that had you fill out the paperwork when he was first admitted, and, despite it taking her a bit, she remembered you. 

“Listen, I’m really sorry, but the process isn’t as easy now that someone signed his paperwork. I can’t disclose any information to you.” She explained apologetically as you slumped forward on the cold desk. There was a certain sorrow in her eyes as she watched you sigh in defeat. 

“I mean— could you just tell me if he’s okay?” You pleaded, already dreading the thought of having to leave that day with no answers. 

“I wouldn’t even be able to confirm or deny that that patient is still in our system.” It seemed it was upsetting her just as much to deny you, and it wasn’t your intention to make her job anymore difficult than it was. “I wish I could have been of more help to you.” 

You nodded in silent understanding, offering a grateful smile nonetheless as you pushed off of the desk to take your walk of shame out of the building. Perhaps it was a sign; the thought fleeted into your mind on what seemed like the endless trek to the door. This denial was the closure you needed to move on from this bizarre, chance encounter that happened to mimic one you witnessed firsthand just years ago. In stark terms, whatever seemed to be lying at the bottom of the mysterious well that was Megumi— wasn’t your business.

In the same notion though, maybe it was fate that that oddly large, white haired man was strolling into the very doors you were trying to exit, coffee and a paper bag clutched in his causal grip. Your mouth opened and closed as you looked up at him, unsure if he’d even recognize you or care enough to acknowledge your being there. As if sensing your silent stare, he glanced up from his phone for a moment, doing a small double take upon seeing you.  

“Pick up another straggler?” He teased, sliding his phone into the pocket of his uniform with a known smirk. His head tilted toward you. “What was it this time? Just so happened to be around when they mysteriously fell out a window?” 

Despite the fact that his seemingly playful nature was making you feel more comfortable, you still couldn’t help the heat that rushed to your face. Attempting a breathless chuckle, you smiled nervously at the man. 

“The hospital should start paying me commission, huh?” You quipped with apprehensive amusement. A short but genuine laugh broke through his teasing facade, and he nodded for you to walk with him. Pushing past the slight shock of how easily this was going for you, you stumbled after him. 

“I’m assuming you’re not here to see me?” 

Chewing on your bottom lip, you watched the bright tiles passing under your feet as you followed him through the hospital. Once again, you were hit by the realization that you were meddling in something you seriously had no business in. Still, the nonchalant man leading you through the hallways didn’t seem to have any sort of reaction to your curiosity.

“I’m really sorry if I’m overstepping, it’s just been kind of eating me alive.” You confessed with a halfhearted chuckle.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, our little overachiever isn’t in intensive care anymore.” He informed with an almost proud smile. 

“Really?” You didn’t intend to sound so relieved, but it was an almost instantaneous reaction. 

“Yuuup. Officially graduated.” He confirmed as he wiped mock tears from under his sunglasses. “Go see for yourself, his room’s right here.” 

As he stopped in front of a cracked open door, you hadn’t even realized the man had been leading you to pay Megumi a visit. Glancing up at him unassuredly, you didn’t have a chance to ask if he was sure before he was waving you off nonchalantly.

“Actually, if you don’t mind taking my stuff in there.” The teacher requested, not giving you a chance to protest as he shoved the coffee and bag into your hands. “Forgot my phone in my car.”

Your brows furrowed for a moment, cause you could have sworn you had just seen him slip the aforementioned phone into his pocket just as you ran into him. There was no time to question it though, because in an instant, his freakishly long legs were traversing him back down the way you came in. With a barely noticeable huff of disbelief, your gaze drifted to the cracked-open door in front of you. You shook your head before pushing in anyway, trying to be mindful of the nearly overflowing coffee cup that was desperately trying to spill onto your hand. 

“Shit.” You muttered under your breath with a flinch as you felt a scalding drop offend your skin. 

“You’re not Gojo.” 

“Shit!” You repeated with a start, posture jolting up to face whoever it was that damn near just sent you to the afterlife. 

What you hadn’t expected to see was the very awake and very alert Megumi sitting up in his hospital bed. His mouth was free of the tube that once restrained it, though you could still hear the after affects of it in the rasp and crack of his voice. In fact, the only thing he appeared to still be connected to was an IV pole and what looked like a heart monitor. 

You could have killed the tall stranger, whom you presumed was the Gojo character he was talking about, for not thinking it important to warn her that Megumi was no longer unconscious before you waltzed into his room so nonchalantly. In truth, you expected to drop by, see with your own two eyes that the man hadn’t succumbed to his injuries, and be on your merry way. 

“Ow! Fuck,” You were babbling at this point, pacing around for anywhere to put down the damned coffee cup that had just scalded your hand in tandem with your startled jump. The black haired man watched you silently, almost moving to get up to help you before he remembered the brace that wrapped his right ankle. “I’m so sorry— I had no idea you were awake.” 

Your frantic apologies continued spilling from your lips as you ran your stinging hand underneath the sink that sat in the corner. You did it partly to soothe the pain, but another part of you just didn’t think you could face the poor man after completely invading his privacy. 

“That weird guy with the sunglasses told me to come in, but then he just—”

“You were the one that stayed with me after the accident, right?”

Unable to gage the flat tone in his voice, you slowly turned the faucet off before finally turning to face him. In the time you hadn’t been looking, it seemed he had pushed the hair out of his face, and he was sitting up a little higher in the bed than you remembered. The book in his lap laid open and forgotten, his large, dark eyes focused intently on you. 

“Uh, yeah.” You admitted softly, wiping your hands nervously on your bottoms. “You were outside the cafe—”

“I remember.” He stated flatly, making you bite down harshly on your bottom lip. Megumi was coming off as rude, guarded, irritated— he knew he was, but he couldn’t for the life of him gather his thoughts well enough to express the gratitude he felt for you. Even more so though, he couldn’t possibly bring himself to understand the curiosity and fondness that had been festering over the past few days in your absence. 

A silence enveloped the room, and you suddenly wondered where the hell his teacher was— desperate for anything to break the tension. 

“Well, I should probably go.” You finally mustered out, setting the bag and cup down onto the counter before turning to leave. “I-I’m glad to see you’re doing better. Sorry again to—”

“Wait,” Megumi urged, leaning forward so quickly it had him wincing with the pressure on his injured ribs. Your hair swayed as you whipped your head back at him in question, and you thought you saw the slightest pink hue on his cheeks. “Sorry, I’m… on a lot of meds. You don’t have to leave.” 

His excuse made your brow slowly quirk up, an amused smirk barely concealed on your lips. Attempting to push down your amusement, you pursed your lips and glanced out the door for any sign of Gojo’s return. Upon seeing only the hospital staff bustling around, you slowly made your way over and sat down on the chair beside his bed. For a moment, the two of you simply stared at one another in silence, both of you unsure of what to say next. 

In your brief study of his now conscious face up close, you noticed each sharp feature of his, from his straight nose, to the strong line of his jaw. Somehow, despite their dark hue, his wide eyes seemed to soften his face even if just minimally with every caress of his long, thick lashes against his cheekbones. You wanted to avert your eyes to stop the incoming flush in your cheeks upon the sudden realization that Megumi was incredibly attractive, but you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away.

In a last ditch effort to preserve any dignity, you were grasping at straws to say anything. 

“What were you look—”

“Why did you stay?” 

The both of you began simultaneously, but his question made you clam up. There wasn’t malice in his tone, but a raw curiosity instead, an urge to understand. His brows were slowly settling into that familiar furrow you remembered seeing on his sleeping form constantly. 

“I— You asked me to.” You answered simply, your voice quieter than it was before. A small huff of breath raced out his nose at your response. 

“So you just do whatever strange men you just met tell you to do?”

“I think I preferred you when you still had a tube down your throat.” You laughed breathlessly, a little shocked at the sass that emanated from the seemingly reserved man. Almost immediately, he rolled his pretty eyes at your comment, but there was a ghost of a smile threatening to assassinate the cool-boy persona he had built up. 

“Why did you stay?” Megumi asked again. There was more conviction in his rasped tone this time. Subconsciously, your hand creeped up to grasp at your scarred upper arm, and he followed the motion intently. His gaze narrowed slightly at the raised skin, a hint of recognition flashing in his eyes as he continued to stare. 

“Two years ago, I was in a similar accident. There was all sorts of hell breaking loose in the city, so I didn’t think anyone would help me, you know?” You recounted with a sad smile, feeling your breath tremble at the memory. “I still don’t know how they got me out— some guy that was around. He almost ran right past me. I never got to thank him, or ask him how he got me out from under the car. I was already in the hospital when I woke up.”

He processed your words for a moment, blinking slowly down at your scar as the puzzle pieces seemed to click together in his mind. It sounded too familiar— just as the marks on your arms were ones he’d surely seen before. 

“And that scar—  you got it from the accident?” He assumed, though he already knew the answer. You nodded, looking down at it yourself and allowing the tips of your fingers to trace each curve. The corners of his lips twitched up on their own accord, eyes softening with the revelation that fate had always been on his side. “Kind of looks like a bite.”

There was a subtly bemused tone in his voice. You didn’t quite understand where it was coming from, but as you inspected the mark closer with this perspective, you hummed in fascination. 

“I don’t really see it.” You mumbled. 

In an instant, his fingers had reached out to fold gently around your arm. Your eyes fluttered up to look at him in surprise, but he was still focused on your mark with a soft fondness. Swiping his thumb over the raised skin, the pads of his fingers mapped out the familiar canine marks of his demon dog. 

As if the feel of it ignited his memory, he could almost perfectly recall the sight of the large hound tearing through the wrecked car as Megumi exorcised the curse that had been at the cusp of the mangled traffic jam. Working on his command, the boy watched as the dog emerged, dragging a girl out of the rubble by her arm. The skin around the bite was already bloodied and bruised, but you certainly still had more of a chance of survival than you had before the damned bite. 

At once, there was an understanding in his still foggy mind that the machinery of right and wrong he had grown accustomed to over the years was far more prophetic than he ever cared to give it credit for. It didn’t matter what reason you gave him for staying by his side that night, because he already understood it wholeheartedly on a much different level than he had anticipated. Megumi had always been the type to search for reason in his own kindness while cynically picking apart the kindness of others. After all he’d been through, perhaps this was the final nail in the coffin of his nihilistic pattern of viewing his moral compass. 

“See, Megumi? I told you your knight in shining armor would come back for you!” That familiarly sarcastic voice that you had now been able to name Gojo, had the both of you flinching back from the unexpectedly intimate moment. Megumi’s face seemed to sour instantly as the man strolled into the room with a wide smile. “This kid was driving me insane, asking me about you as soon as they pulled that tube out of his throat.” 

The patient grumbled, and if he had more strength and less shit hooked up to him, he would have thrown a pillow at his teacher. Glaring dangerously at him, Megumi swatted his hand away as the older man began to ruffle at his hair in mock affection. Despite his clear mortification, you smiled amusedly at the scene before you. 

“Thanks for looking after the little guy for me.”

“I’m starting to think I should get a job here.” You joked back as you stood from your chair. You looked back at Megumi, who’s hard gaze was slowly melting into subtle confusion as he watched you rise. “I’m really glad you’re okay.”

You bowed in thanks to Gojo before making your way to the door. 

“You’re leaving?” Megumi stopped you at the exit for the second time that day. Had you looked now, you would have caught the deadly glare he shot his sensei’s way for ruining the moment. 

With your hand on the door, you turned around to offer him a warm smile, one that had his shoulders slumping forward as if enveloped in the most welcoming of blankets. 

“Gotta get to work.” You explained regretfully, chewing on the inside of your cheek. In a spark of confidence that was surely spurred on by the fact that you still had endless questions for the man, you continued with a bashful grin. “But you know where to find me. Maybe you can actually stay for your order this time, hm?”

Gojo almost had to turn away to hide the laughter bubbling in his chest upon seeing the dumbstruck expression on Megumi’s face as he could only muster up a small nod. You found yourself nodding along with him. 

“I’ll have your order ready.” You teased with a wink. “Black coffee, right?”

The boy breathed out in disbelief, watching with pink tinted cheeks as your hair swayed behind you while you took your leave. He wished with everything in him, since fate seemed to be playing so mercifully with him these days, that his ankle would miraculously heal in time for him to chase after you to catch one more glimpse of your glittering eyes and incandescent smile. Perhaps he had already had his fill of fate’s luck for one lifetime though, because he could only remain seated dumbly on the hospital bed, jaw hanging down just a hair as he breathed out. 

“Right.”

masterlist | requests | talk to me ❤︎

I love hearing everyone's thoughts! ◝⠀(ᵔᵕᵔ)⠀◜

[webslingingslasher]

J!!! I don't remember if nerdy!peter plays video games but I'm pretty sure he does 😓 how would he react when angel keeps wanting his attention but he keeps saying 10 more minutes so she gets annoyed 😓😓

I literally love all your Peter's sm idek how u have the mind for all this!!

*cleaning out my drafts* wheew boy, i hope you guys remember nerdy!peter. he's been on a shelf too long!

peter doesn't even blink when you kiss the side of his face- he doesn't notice in the slightest. you hold in a sigh and mutter out a half-hearted goodbye.

'i'm leaving, i'll call you later.'

suddenly, peter's available to talk. 'woah, wait, you're leaving? why?' you bite your tongue, there's a dozen things you want to say and none of them are nice. if you stay, you'll cause a fight.

'because i'm mad at you and if i don't, we're gonna have a fight.' peter gives you puppy dog eyes, he's pre-apologizing and he doesn't know what for yet. they always soften you but when he turns away to check his screen, you harden right back up.

'i had no eyes, sorry, sorry. med pack, please.' you can only put up with so much and a game taking priority over your relationship was just a straw too much. 'you're about to have no girlfriend.'

peter hits mute real fast, tossing his headset off and standing up even quicker. he's looking at you like a deer in headlights, 'you said what?'

'i shouldn't have to threaten a break up for you to listen to me, peter.'

'i was listening! you were fine then all of a sudden you're stomping out of here and calling me single.' he’s not allowed to care when you get mad, he should've cared the last five times he said ten more minutes.

'i'm leaving.'

peter blocks the door, you cross your arms over your chest. 'talk to me.' you're being petty because it's the first time he's giving you attention since you've been here. it's nice to have him worry over you.

'no, i'm mad at you.'

'yeah, i picked up on that. wanna tell me why?' your eyes narrow, he can’t act cute when you're pissy. 'no.' peter gives you a pity smile but he's not sad at all. 'then i can't let you leave, sorry.'

'you think holding me captive will fix things?' there was a snap with your voice, peter takes a step away from the door. he was half and half with your tone but after that he feels the need to back down.

'you're actually mad at me.' peter doesn't like when you're upset with him, it makes him feel all itchy. 'you can leave, angel. if you think it'll help, you can leave. but i would really like it if you told me what was going on first.'

you and peter make communication a priority but this time you want to be childish. if he couldn't understand why you were mad, he obviously didn't respect your time. you wouldn't act like this if it was the first time, but it’s everytime you come over and he's already on his computer.

you're getting tired of begging for your boyfriend to choose you over a video game, especially after he told you to come over.

'no. i'm leaving and i want you to think about why i would be mad at you.' peter whines in return, he hates when you don't give him an answer. 'angel, please. this is punishment enough.'

the issue is how well you know him. he's going to pout and give you kisses while he tells you how sorry he is and he never meant to make you feel ignored. it always makes you forgive him too quick, you don't want him to apologize for it, you want him to acknowledge it.

'you're gonna try to excuse it and kiss it better and i don't want that. i want you to look me in the eye and tell me you've been shitty.' peter's already giving you that pouty look, you ignore the clench your heart gives when he pulls you closer by your hips.

'i'm still gonna kiss it better, i'll just tell you i'm shitty while i do it.' you don't gripe when he gives you a chaste kiss. you don't tell yourself you're going back on your word, just that he didn't give you one when you first got here.

'wanna tell me why i made you mad?' you love when peter talks to you like this. it's not a whisper, but it's low. it's almost guttural- a ring of sexual if you looked at it the right way. when he pairs it with two wet kisses to your cheek, you have to remind yourself to stay strong.

'your game.' you silently moan when peter pushes your back against his door, he drops a mark to your neck. 'mhm, what about my game?' you're not sliding a hand into his hair to egg him on, it's to support yourself, that's it.

'you were ignoring me again.'

peter's lips catch anywhere they can meet, you think you're about to start sweating. 'i hate begging for your attention, i don't want to do it anymore.' peter's kissing your sweet spot, you try to keep your focus.

'angel, no one has my attention more than you.' there's only so much you can fight and peter's pillowy kisses isn't one of them. you're not forgiving, you're just compartmentalizing. plus peter's the best damn kisser you've ever had.

‘until you’re on discord with your friends.’ you’re reminded of your anger, you push peter off and glare at him. ‘if i didn’t tell you i was leaving, would you have even noticed?’

'of course i would, i check on you every couple of minutes.' peter might suck at giving up a winning streak but he makes sure to put his eyes on you every two minutes.

'making sure i'm still here isn't the same as giving me attention. and dump me if i'm wrong, but i want a boyfriend who's a little obsessed with me.' peter kisses the middle of your throat, it spurs more frustration.

'if you wanted to fuck me, you should've done something about it an hour ago. you don't get to disrespect me then put your dick in me.' peter exhales over your skin, it feels like a laugh. you don't know why he thinks you're joking. he reads your mind before you can say it.

'angel, i'm not trying to seduce you. i'm trying to show you how obsessed you make me.' you give him your neck and he softly bites, just like that, the fight's over. 'go on... i'm listening.'

'i've been shitty.'

peter's kisses make sense, they've been on a subtle trail downwards. he sinks to his knees on the floor, hooking your leg around his shoulder and looking up at you. looking up with his angelolatry duties.

'and now i'm gonna kiss it better.' 

[muffinrag]

body failed to physically calibrate this morning so instead of being normal I keep being unspeakably bitchy with customers

[nobodieshero-main]

i'm actually still not quite over the fact that oveta and korahi's stories continuously overlap until they finally cross paths in that market. that they don't even say anything to each other, they just smile from their different stalls. oveta rolls her eyes bc kova is being ridiculous and korahi bites her lip so she doesn't laugh and it's so simple, so peaceful, so fucking mundane. they have no idea who the they are to each other. oveta, the girl who killed the queen that destroyed korahi's people, her family. proof that someone tried to fight for them. korahi, the very creature that oveta was almost executed for defending, the push that became a shove to build her own kingdom and write her own laws. proof that nakia failed. but for just that moment, that blip of time, they were just two girls sharing a silent joke, and everything was okay.

[raeathnos]

.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Summoning Failed Successfully

Imagine a warehouse. Imagine a bunch of cultists in dark robes with all the candles, daggers, ancient books, and chanting. Now add Danny.

Only not as the summoned being, no. As a sacrifice.

He is sitting down, tied to a chair, in the middle of the summoning circle, looking as bored and deadpan as he can possibly be. The cultists are chanting, and he frowns, listening to their chants for a moment.

"Hey, is that Latin?" He questions, but to no avail, "You know you're not actually using those words correctly, right?"

"Keep quiet, child!" One of the cultists snaps. Danny leans back in his chair and shrugs.

"I'm just saying, you ain't summoning shit with wrong grammar," he huffs, seemingly absolutely nonchalant about the whole thing. Oracle, who is watching the whole ordeal through the surveillance cameras, raises her eyebrows. Red Robin and Robin are already en route to the building the cultists chose for their extracurricular activities, but now she almost wants to watch this a bit longer.

Gothamites are pretty used to all kinds of shitshows, but this boy is from out of town. She checked him through facial recognition. Daniel Fenton, a transfer student from Amity Park, Illinois.

A few more cultists stop chanting and turn to Danny.

"Do you know Latin?" One of them asks, and the boy makes a half-nod, making a thoughtful face.

"Not fluently, but, like, it's a dead language, I felt kinda obligated to learn it. Just for the meme, you know?" He chuckles.

The cultists, judging by their confused silence, don't know. Barbara doesn't know what he's talking about, either. But she is almost curious now, so she taps Robin's and RR's comm lines:

"RR, Robin, when you arrive, don't jump into the scene," she asks.

"Understood," Tim answers immediately, but Damian, of course, demands explanations:

"Is there an obstacle?"

"Not really," Barbara humms, "The sacrifice is in the process of de-escalating the situation."

She can almost hear the questioning silence over the comm, but, thankfully, no one argues. Meanwhile, one of the cultists pipes up, voice full of doubt:

"So, you can... like, proofread our incantation?"

"Yeah, sure," Danny nods, apparently fine with being sacrificed, "Who you're trying to summon anyway?"

"Satan," that same cultist answers, and Danny laughs approvingly.

"Classic," he nods and smiles, "I'll give you this. The circle is mostly alright, so you don't need an incantation to summon the fucker, I have him on speed dial." And with that, he leans forward, screaming towards the floor: "Ey, Satan!"

Barbara must say the act was actually convincing, but he went a little overboard with it now. She reaches to tell both Robins to get in, but suddenly, a loud, booming voice reverberates through the building.

"The fuck do you want, kid?"

Cultists fall to their knees - it doesn't seem like an act of worship, more like their knees bucking. The whole circle dimly lights up in red, smoke raising from it.

"Do you see this shit, Oracle?" Red Robin questions, and she mhm's at him, not sure what else to say. If this is still an act or a trick, she must say it's a very good one. Although somehow she suspects it's not a trick. She's seen enough magic in her life to tell the difference.

"Do you want to come to Earth, be gay and do crimes?" Danny asks, almost mockingly.

"Fuck off."

The red light flickers and disappears, and Danny looks back up to cultists, grinning cheerfully.

"Welp, looks like he doesn't wanna," the kid concludes and stands up from his chair. Barbara hadn't seen when or how he got out of his bindings.

The cultists just watch him walk out of the circle in bewilderment.

"Pursue?" Robin's voice comes over the comms, and Barbara thinks for a moment.

"I get a feeling like that's a bad idea," Tim mutters over his line.

Barbara agrees.

[writersdrug]

I NEED waitress!reader accidentally letting it slip that she’s got a date after her shift and so when bartender!simon overhears, he suddenly has a list of things she needs to do after work, causing her get to stay late ))): missing her date ))):

ANGST TIME

He's been watching you like a hawk for the past two hours - and rightfully so. You've been rushing through your tasks, rolling more than enough silverware, keeping your tables happy and stocked - you somehow managed to convince Soap to mop front of house for you. He doesn't like it. Why are you trying to get away?

"Got a date tonight." You tell him, skimming through your receipts as you sit at the bar and calculate your tips. You're not off the clock yet - you still have thirty minutes left. But the restaurant's empty, and all your tasks are done. Your makeup is a little nicer today, softer and less "morning after a deftones concert".

Simon's thankful for the mask, or else his frown would be impossible to miss. Is he dumb? Haven't you been flirting with him all week? Was this another one of your games, pretending to act innocent and coy, messing with him, then announcing you're going out with someone else?!

He feels his shoulders tensing as he watches you tap away at your phone's calculator. He shouldn't be so bothered by this - some things just need to be let go. But he can't. He wants to keep you in his back pocket, or in an empty whiskey bottle on his liquor shelf - not the one behind the bar, but the personal collection in his room on the third floor.

"That's nice," he grumbles, slicing through a lime. "Jus' make sure you finish your chores 'fore you head out."

"Already did!" You chirp at him with a smile. "Just need to do my tips, and I'll be done."

"Did ya clean the ice bins?" He asks.

You furrow your brow. "Huh?"

He jerks his head to the whiteboard on the wine fridge - sure enough, your name is scribbled in, right next to "drain and wash/sanitize ice bins + buckets", along with today's date.

You look back at Simon, your expression now crestfallen. Your date is in an hour, and you still have twenty minutes on your shift. "Don't you usually do it?"

Truthfully, he does. He could do it today, in fact. But his brain is acting on thoughts before he has the chance to consider the consequences. "Can't today, luv. Preppin' for a bigger crowd tomorrow."

Your shoulders slump. "How long does it take?"

"Well, you got to turn 'em off - one by one, I can't have two empty ice bins durin' a shift - then ya dump the ice, wait for 'em to warm up, then ya go in there with soap n' a rag, rinse 'em out, then-"

"God, can this please wait until tomorrow? I'll come in early and do it, I promise."

He looks at you sternly, and you suddenly feel ashamed for asking. "Wot, so I can pay you overtime?"

"Simon, please - if you do them, I'll give you half my tips for today."

"Now y' dumpin' your work on me?"

"I've got a date!"

"I've got my own shit too!"

You snap your mouth shut. He's never been this stern with you, but you know it's well deserved. It's your chore, after all. You'd been wrong to assume he would do it himself, despite that being the usual. You quickly hop out of the barstool and make your way behind the bar, unplugging the first icebin.

Simon watches as you scurry around, running to and from the ice bin into the kitchen, filling up bucket after bucket of ice and dumping it into the sink in the back. You pace as the machine warms up, glancing at your phone every few minutes, then touching the inside of the ice maker to check the temperature. After a few minutes, you're scrubbing the machine as fast as you can with a soapy rag and a bucket of sanitizer eater next to you.

Twenty minutes have gone by. You're supposed to be on your way to your date, but you're biting your lip, staring angrily at the ice machine as it cools down again. You need to wait for it to be cold before you refill it with ice, and only then can you start on the other machine.

You make another attempt towards Simon. "If I just do one tonight and do the other in the morning-"

"No." Simon snaps, his eyes angry as he drops a container of sliced fruit onto the bar. "This is part of havin' a job."

You look away from him, tears stinging your eyes now. You're so frustrated you want to snap back at him - but he's right, isn't he? Maybe you could ask him if you could just call Max and let him know you'll be running late - but the thought of asking Simon for anything right now (other than more chores) makes you queasy.

Simon doesn't know where the anger came from, but it's still simmering. He watches as you continue to run back and forth, filling up the old ice bin, unplugging the second one, dumping the ice in the back... he's refilling the bloody Mary mix and restocking the bitters. Simple things. He's got nothing to do after this besides go up to his flat and sit in front of the telly, or maybe chat with Soap before he heads home. Why didn't he just do it? Because you had a date, and that was a problem for him. Why? Now you're upset, and it's that knowledge that makes him finally feel the shame that he'd been swallowing down.

You finish dumping the last bucket of ice into the second machine. It's forty minutes after your shift ended. You still have to get to the restaurant you and Max were meeting at, which is a twenty minute walk. You were supposed to be there ten minutes early - now you're going to be an hour late. Frustration mingles with anxiety and burns in the forefront of your mind. But you can't be mad. You should've done your job.

Simon doesn't say anything when you run to the back, your phone pressed to your ear and tears in your eyes. You barely manage a wave to Soap as you grab your bag and jacket and flounder back into the restaraunt. You don't look at Simon.

"I'm leaving now, I'm so sorry- I had to finish up at work and it too longer than I-" you slowed to a walk, then a stop, standing in the middle of the floor. Simon was frozen, watching your shoulders shake.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize I had-... it's not an excuse, I promise I'm-... listen, we can go for a walk or something, right? Or go get fast food, someplace still open, just you and me, and we can try again another-"

His eyes burn in his skull as he watches you stand there for a few more seconds, staring at your phone as the call disappears from the screen. He wants to say something - but what can he say? He's already fucked you over. And he doesn't feel any better than when he first discovered your little date. He feels worse.

You stuff your phone in your back pocket, unable to hide the single, choked sob that escapes your throat. You shoulder your bag and stomp your way out of the restaurant, door clanging behind you. Your bike is still in the alley out back, and your unfinished tips are still on the bartop. He wouldn't be surprised if you never come back to collect them.

Soap emerges from the kitchen breaking Simon from his thoughts and wiping his hands on a rag. "Real feckin' kind of ye, Ghost. Never seen such a right cunt." He glares at Simon, before slapping the rag on the table and heading back into the kitchen. His shift was over, too.

Simon has three more hours left to deal with himself before the bar closes.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

fill with fire, exhale desire, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: He smokes cigarettes. You hate it. You always have a lighter in your pocket. He is pissed off because it isn't for him, you say. So much is said, but the truth is in the silence.

wc: 26.7k; warnings: rated M (18+) for language; smoking cigarettes, negative attitudes about smoking, quitting smoking; mentions of misogyny in South Korea; slow burn; constant bickering, tbh; smut (fem reader, striptease (?), heavy making out, scratching, penetrative sex, he puts his hand over her mouth and she licks it, multiple orgasms, handjob, fingering); non-idol!AU - smoker, pining, bratty!JK x cold, independent, insomniac!reader; reader's POV

--

“Got a light?”

You reached in your pocket and pulled out the lighter that you always kept on you. It had a dragon insignia etched into the black metal. Heavy and substantial. Serious enough to bruise if thrown with enough force. You flicked it open with your thumb and raised it.

Jeon Jungkook leaned in, holding a cigarette between his lips expectantly.

You made your distaste evident in your expression.

He smirked.

You pressed the button and the orange flame shot up. Burning paper and tobacco. The end of the cigarette glowed red. You pulled your hand away, flicking your wrist to extinguish the flame. Slipped it back into your pocket and resumed not looking at him. You heard him inhale with a satisfied sigh before bleeding out smoke to the sky.

“You smoke too?”

“Fuck no,” you snapped. “I’m not disgusting.”

There was a sharp sucking sound of Jungkook’s incredulous annoyance. “Hm. Then the lighter’s just for me, huh?” His voice was throaty with nicotine. You hadn’t moved away yet. He nudged your shoulder with his knuckles. You didn’t react. “You like me that much?”

You could smell the fumes in the air even though he was attempting to be careful about it. That was the thing about smoke. It got everywhere. A gaseous parasite. You didn’t reply. Instead, you stuck your hands in your denim jacket pockets and acted as if he wasn’t there. Predictably, not a single person looked your way, even with your pleated blue plaid miniskirt was grazing the bottom of your ass and your black pleather corset showing off the ample curve of your breasts.

No one wanted to deal with the big tattooed guard dog smoking just behind you.

He was trying to stand close but not too close. You wondered if Jungkook was aware of how much subtilty he lacked. He likely had no clue. He called your name, casually, desperate for some sort of attention.

“Just say it.”

You turned your head maybe an iota of a degree in his direction, glaring at him from under your black baseball cap. Seething.

“The lighter is not for you, Jeon Jungkook.”

His lips twisted into a pout. He ran a hand through his shaggy black hair which definitely worked on other people. Just not you. He held the lit cigarette away from you, and so you spared him a little more of your gaze, pivoting your black boot to view him at an angle.

“You’re lying,” he asserted with false confidence. “You’ve always got it when I ask.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t mean that it’s for you. Could be for someone else.”

This revelation did not pacify him. The opposite, actually. His brows knitted together. The corner of your lips ticked upward. This pissed him off even more as you seemed to imply scenarios that he very much did not like. You were curious on what how he would approach it.

“Yeah, right. Sure.” He took a quick drag and blew it towards the sky. His dark eyes locked on you. He called your bluff. “You don’t like smoking. There’s no way you would hang out with anyone else who does. You already told me that’s the reason we’re not dating.” Uncertainty etched into his stern expression. “… Right?”

You tilted your head at him.

You watched your silence infuriate Jungkook. He puffed up his chest a little, which was admittedly impressive even in his oversized black t-shirt. He had big pectoral muscles. He had picked up working out to add an addiction in attempt to subtract one. He did smoke less in your presence. But not zero.

“Right?”

He was being very demanding and prissy right now.

You pursed your lips and sucked on the side of your teeth. Then you said, “Yup. That’s the only reason.”

Despair ghosted over his features. He glanced down at the cigarette in his hand. There was slightly more than three-fourths left. His eyes went from you to the concrete sidewalk and then back again. You frowned.

“Don’t even think about littering,” you warned.

He clicked his tongue and flicked ash behind him. “So? Who is it?”

“Who is who?” You taunted back in the same irked tone, minus the underlying insecurity.

“The other person you’re cheating on me with,” Jungkook snapped.

You weren’t bothered by his fury. “I’m not cheating on you if you’re not my boyfriend to begin with.”

He shot you a look that could have scalded most. “And whose fault is that?”

“Yours.”

“Tch, then be my girlfriend and take them from me.”

“Not how this works,” you countered, shifting your stance away from him. Slight panic flashed over his features. You ignored it. “My bus is coming soon.”

“Ugh,” he tutted. “I hate that you go to concerts alone.”

“Well, maybe if you didn’t spend your money on smokes, you could join me.”

“I asked,” he growled. “I have the money. You said no.”

You sent him a soulless smile. “Because you smoke.”

Jungkook looked ready to put out the cigarette on his own arm. But you were already backing away. He half-followed, still talking.

“You’re going dressed like that? You’re going to get groped.”

You did your best to not call him stupid. You settled for an eye-roll. “Why do you think I stuck around after you asked for a light?” You stopped. So did he, avoiding closeness. He looked confused. “Men stay away from me when they smell smoke on my clothes. Either I smoke or I’ve got a boyfriend who does. Either way, not attractive.”

He flinched at your double-edged comment. Then, with a measured amount of bravery, Jungkook took a step forward and tapped your chest with his hand that held the cigarette. You made a displeased face. A tendril of smoke drifted upwards for the suspended second that he held his fingertips to your skin. You narrowed your eyes at him. He backed up, lifting both hands up in defeat. He licked his lower lip, looking down at you.

“If the lighter’s not for me, then what’s it for?”

There was a metal screech of heavy brakes behind you, closer to the street.

You glared up at him, wishing he picked better addictions.

Only time could tell.

“Arson,” you replied, and turned around to step onto the bus, leaving Jungkook alone once again. He would tire of it soon enough.

-

You scowled.

“Why the fuck are you here?”

The crowd was parting as you were heading to the train station. Just before you were meant to enter, a man approached you with a plastic bag and a bottle of water. He looked almost as aggravated as you felt. His hands were occupied so for once he couldn’t ask for a light.

“Is that any way to greet someone waiting for you?” Jeon Jungkook growled.

You were far from impressed. “Did I ask you to wait for me?” You answered yourself. “No, I didn’t. So, you’re the stalker here.”

His dark eyes shifted over the passerby you had no interest in. He looked back at you with a peeved expression. “Better me than an actual creep.”

“Spoiler alert: you are an actual creep.”

You kept your distance, wary, and made to walk around him. Something flashed in his gaze but he shut his eyes and sucked in the side of his cheek with a sharp sound. His body turned, semi-following you. You noticed he was wearing a black leather jacket, a different cream shirt, and dark olive cargo pants. Same black sneakers from earlier though. His black hair seemed faintly damp. He must have taken a shower. Perhaps he went to work out while you were gone for hours.

“At least take the water and food,” Jungkook scoffed, holding out the items. “You’re probably dehydrated and hungry. Don’t your feet hurt from standing so long?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Nothing.”

You stopped and stared him down. He rolled his eyes. He seemed hurt. It didn’t matter if he was avoiding your gaze; you could tell. There was no reason to soften your tone, but at the very least you reached out and took the water bottle from him. The condensation felt nice on your palm already. You unscrewed the cap with a cold expression and heard the plastic crack. He hadn’t tempered with it, at least. A part of you felt bad for assuming the worst, but, then again, this was South Korea. You took a sip and pointed with the cap to the plastic bag.

“What food?”

Jungkook started, diverting his peek at your reaction in hopes you didn’t notice. You had. “Pan-fried tteokbokki,” he mumbled.

One of your favorites. At least he used his ears sometimes. “You really balled out, huh. How much I owe you?”

He took offense. “You think I don’t make enough money to treat you?”

“What do you need to treat me for?”

“Aren’t we friends?” Jungkook shot back.

You were mid-sip when the damage was already done. You saw him freeze up and then quickly look away. People walking past were giving you both weird looks, splitting around the two of you as a river does to a pesky rock stuck in the middle. You lowered the water bottle. He shoved his free hand into his front pant pocket. His knuckles indented the fabric. You looked from them, to back up to his face. His brows were knitted together and he appeared to be biting back an insult.

Or something else.

You reached for the bag.

Hooked your fingers around the handles. He didn’t let go. Nor acknowledge you. You tugged lightly. He remained an immovable statue. You took a step forward and pulled up, turning your face away from his chest in the process.

Jungkook whipped his head back and glared down at you.

His grip tightened. You pressed your lips together as the side of your fingers touched the side of his. He smelled fresh. He had definitely showered. The stale scent of his cigarette from earlier still lingered on your denim jacket. You shifted your eyes and made eye contact. Close. Not touching, though. Just enough for a misunderstanding that wasn’t going to happen because both of you were crystal clear on your stances.

He let go of the bag.

The weight fell onto your fingers.

He was searching for the words but you interrupted his thoughts.

“You gonna make sure I get home safe?” you asked.

He looked away. “Don’t be stupid.” Tightened his jaw. “What kind of man would I be if I just let you wander around at night by yourself?”

You watched his profile. He didn’t turn back. You stepped back. His eyes followed, as unnoticeable as he believed, and you let him have that, choosing instead to start walking.

“Might as well eat while it’s warm. I could sit down for a bit.”

You didn’t look back to see if he was after you. You heard him bite back his reply and swiftly pivot, and then it was both you against the night of blaring headlights and a dissipating crowd, feeling two kinds of alone despite all the people around. You ended up at the underground food court. Probably where he purchased the tteokbokki to begin with. Found a table and unwrapped the container. A paper-sleeved wooden skewer was tucked against the lid.

Jungkook threw himself into the seat across from you and pulled out his phone, beginning his doomscrolling.

It was still warm. Lightly spicy. Probably a bit too heavy for late night but that was why it tasted better than usual. You caught his darting glimpse as you ate. Raised an eyebrow. He pretended not to notice. Or was it that he pretended not to care? You raised the skewer and tilted it towards him. He continued to ignore you even though his body was halfway turning.

“Want one?”

“I’m fine,” he instantly answered. Almost smugly.

You knew what he was doing. Still, you acted as if you didn’t. “I can’t eat it all anyway. Don’t waste.”

Those dark brown orbs shifted back. His eyebrows furrowed. He did his best to sound annoyed. “You don’t eat enough.”

“Even if I didn’t, I should eat something healthier,” you pointed out, keeping your face neutral.

He reached for the skewer and you pierced one of the rice cakes instead. Soaking it in the sauce and holding it out. Jungkook locked eyes with you. You slid the container closer so he could lean over it.

He took the skewer from your fingers and fed himself.

All while staring at you.

The eye contact was broken by his eyes closing. Enjoying the food. Crispy, warm, spicy. Chewy on the inside, in that satisfying way that one could enjoy the seeping heat all over the tongue. He stabbed another and ate that too, without asking. You hadn’t expected him to. You hadn’t expected him to do any of this, actually. You drank another sip of water.

“I’ll take the train home.”

“I don’t think so,” Jungkook grumbled with full cheeks, sliding the container back to you and shoving the wooden skewer in your hand. His brief touch lingered. You searched for his expression but he covered the lower half of his face with his other hand, keeping his eyes shut and chewing as he spoke. “I came on my bike. I’ll drop you off at your place.”

Now that was sounding a little too familiar. “I’ll be fine on my own. I’ve done it before.”

He cracked open an eye and you could tell he was frowning even though his hair had fallen over his temples. “Just because you’ve done it before doesn’t mean it’s smart or safe.”

He underestimated your resting psycho bitch face. You speared two pieces of tteokbokki and crammed them in your mouth. Chewed with irritation. You swallowed. “No one is out to get me.”

Those three-quarter moons remained unconvinced. “That you know of.”

You raised your eyebrows and moved to continue eating. “You watch too much true crime.”

“You don’t watch enough. You are the one that should be cautious,” Jungkook retorted.

“I am cautious.” You glanced at him above pan-fried rice cake. “But you can’t live always being afraid of possible horrors. If I did that, well, I would sleep even worse than I already do.”

You ate.

Jungkook lowered his eyes and went pensively silent.

There wasn’t anything to say. You cleaned up. Threw away the remains appropriately. Began to walk with him subtly leading the way. The night felt darker. Quieter. The concert crowd was gone and now the streets were full of night owls on their own lonely missions. You pretended passersby parted to let you and him through. The more likely answer was avoidance though. There wasn’t anything that friendly about Jungkook’s rigid presence and your inherently cold one.

In a parking lot now.

His black and chrome motorcycle was parked. A beast in its own right. Lately, you had been thinking of his addictions. Tattoos. Motorcycles. Cigarettes. Chasing after the un-chasable. Was he simply a thrill seeker or was he attempting to break an internal perfection that he had been living by for far too long? Or just doing anything that came to mind to try and feel something? You stopped walking when he did. He did his thing. And then Jungkook held out a lump of black fabric to you.

You raised your eyebrows.

He half-shrugged. “You can’t get on the bike in that skirt.”

He was right. You didn’t want him to be right. You took the lump that turned out to be a pair of his sweatpants. The Nike ones he usually wore to work out. You made a face. He rolled his eyes as he produced the helmet.

“They’re clean,” he huffed. “I ain’t nasty.”

You had quite a few comebacks for that but you kept your mouth shut. You wondered if he noticed how he slipped out of his practiced Seoul dialect for half a sentence. You noticed. You averted your eyes. It was late. The adrenaline was wearing off to soreness. You could only give about a rat’s ass of a fuck right now. Fuck it. You started bending down.

“Woah!”

All of a sudden you felt a strong grip on your forearm, pulling you back up and dragging you forward, sandwiching you in between the large motorcycle and Jungkook’s scowl, quickly letting go once you glared. You narrowed your eyes. He gave you a disapproving frown.

“I’m wearing shorts under this,” you hissed under his chin.

“Booty shorts, maybe,” he snapped back. “Also, shorts or not, they don’t hide your shape. Idiot.”

He was wrong. You were wearing black boyshort-style panties. Semantics. Instead of bending down, you raised one leg to lower the inner zipper of your boots. Immediately, Jungkook caught your shoulder, steadying you. You didn’t thank him. You glowered. He glowered back as you undid the other one. You stomped down and bunched up the legs of the sweatpants, first sticking in one foot and then the other, doing a little dance in and out of your boots, before forcefully yanking them up your legs. He didn’t let you fall, but he also didn’t look either, swiftly turning his head to stare out into the street. There was a brief moment where you had to decide to tuck in your skirt or let it flare out over the top of the pants. You opted for the latter, straightening and smoothing out the pleats over the crotch of his borrowed sweatpants.

He glanced back and frowned.

You noticed. “What?”

His eyes drifted up. Brow knitted together. He let go of your shoulder. “Not fair that you look cute,” he muttered.

“I look dumb as hell.” You bent over and rezipped your boots, adding under your breath, “But it’s better than nothing. I guess.” You stood up again.

There was a shifty, expectant silence.

You wanted to go home and sleep. At the same time, you wanted to be awake. Jungkook hesitated for a moment and then handed you the helmet in his hands before circling around you to grab the other one he had stored, leaving you to figure that shit out on your own. He avoided your gaze as surely as you did his. The whole scene looked less weird that it felt. You heard the engine purr to life. He said something and you ignored him, buttoning up your jacket so your valuables wouldn’t fall out. Not your best look, however, you had not planned any of this in any capacity.

Jungkook was already seated, his long legs extended to the asphalt to steady himself.

“So, you–”

You placed your hand on his bicep and stepped onto the footpeg, nimbly swinging your leg over to balance behind him. Underneath your hand, you felt him stiffen as you settled, sliding your other arm around his back and temporarily landing on his hip before you removed the hand on his upper arm to grip his waist.

“O… Oh.”

He cleared his throat.

“I’m good,” you confirmed even though he hadn’t asked.

He felt warm and solid and you did your best to ignore it.

“R-Right.” A pause before he said, “Hold on, alright?”

You squeezed his waist.

“Mhm.”

Jungkook took you home.

-

“I’ll get the pants back later,” he said as you handed him the helmet back. “Go on up.”

You observed him. Jungkook did his best to be calm and not jittery. He gave you a strange look, realizing that you were analyzing him. He had killed the engine so he didn’t have to shout. He cradled the helmet you had borrowed with one hand, the other on the handle of his motorcycle for a moment before using it to raise the visor to uncover his dark eyes.

You paused.

Then, you unbuttoned your denim jacket, reaching into the inner pocket for your lighter.

You held it out to Jungkook.

He glanced at it, and then at you.

You ticked your head. “You’ll need a light again. Inevitably. Take it.”

His gaze sharpened. He looked away quickly, and you could tell by the contortion of his features that he was shoving his tongue into his cheek, letting out an annoyed huff. Then, he shook his head, as if your audacity was something to behold. Jungkook then transferred the helmet to the crook of his arm and shoved his dominant, tattooed hand into the inner pocket of his leather jacket, ripping out a slightly crumpled cigarette box with one corner torn open.

He slapped it over your dragon lighter.

“Shit.”

You stared at your palm. And then at him. Jungkook glared back, exhaling hard.

“Take ‘em,” he mumbled. His Busan dialect was even more obvious now. His voice was gruff and his manner blunted. “Just fuckin’ take them.”

“I don’t want these,” you retorted.

“Yeah?” His eyes narrowed to daggers. “Neither should I.” His eyes shifted down and then back up. “Inevitably. You’re so fucking full of it.”

You almost flung both objects at his face. Almost. Yet something made you reconsider. Something about Jungkook’s demeanor shifted. He tried to keep his tone sharp but it was dulled by his body language. He cocked his chin in the most falsely cocky way.

“You think I’m gonna want ‘em?”

Your gazes locked.

“Then I’ll have to come to you to get ‘em.”

You pursed your lips. “I’m going to throw them away.”

He dared you. “Do it.”

“You’ll waste your money and time.”

“And I’ll be reminded you’ll never let me live it down,” Jungkook growled. “I’ll think twice before putting myself through that fire.”

Silence.

Eye to eye.

You held his stare.

Then, you lowered your hand, clutching his cigarettes and your lighter, backing away, and quickly spinning on your heel, striding into your apartment building. You punched in the code. Behind you, you heard the swift kick of an engine roar and then a fading zip away as you yanked open the glass door. You didn’t look back. You pocketed Jeon Jungkook’s cigarettes.

-

Nights later, you sat on the floor next to your bed, flicking your lighter on and off to kill the flame and revive it. Over. And over. You stared at the tiny orange burst. Then extinguished it. Then ignited it again. Such a small light. So fragile and yet so capable of burning this entire apartment down. You breathed out. Fixated on the dancing flame. Time passed.

You sat in silence.

You snapped the lid closed, snuffing it out.

The room was semi-dark. Your bedside table lamp was the only light on. The curtains were open, giving you a view of the city skyline etched into the black sky. The area was actually pretty quiet. You got lucky with a neighborhood full of older folks who mostly minded their own damn business. The apartments were older in a homely sort of way. The most telling trait of the apartment complex was the general unease in the air. Probably because some of the older folks had died in their apartments before. People could be superstitious like that. Maybe you were too. You just didn’t see it as a negative.

Which said a lot about you.

You looked up to your nightstand. Next to the dingy chrome base of your lamp was an open pack of cigarettes. The box was missing maybe three or four of them, you guessed. You hadn’t torn it open to confirm.

Behind your head, your phone began to vibrate.

You lifted your hand and placed your lighter on the nightstand. The lines of the dragon engraving caught the low light, casting shadows over it. Your hand pivoted and you felt around the bed. Found the smoothness of the screen and pulled your phone to you, lowering it to your lap before looking at the caller ID. You frowned slightly once you noticed the time. That late, huh? And this person almost never called or texted. Well. At least not to you.

You accepted the call and brought it to your ear out of habit.

“Ya. You,” mumbled the slurred, distorted voice of Jeon Jungkook.

You responded just as politely. “What?”

He let out a huff. There was a fair bit of rustling and maybe the sound of glass on table. “I want you to know something.” You didn’t reply to that. It wasn’t a question. He paused anyway. Maybe expecting you to reprimand him. You stayed silent. “Ah, fuck.” He exhaled hard into the microphone. You held your phone slightly away from your ear even though you couldn’t smell the alcohol on his breath. “Look. I’m not drinking because I need a smoke.” You doubted it. “I just felt like drinking. It’s Friday.” He wasn’t wrong. “I… I get it, okay? I get why you don’t like it. Makes sense and all. I…” He trailed off again, struggling to find the words. “But I’m not like you. I’m not. I don’t have my shit together.”

“I don’t have my shit together,” you interjected. Should be obvious from you answering his call perfectly awake at three in the morning. He didn’t seem to be thinking rationally at the moment though. If he ever did.

“Fuck off.” He lost control of his Seoul dialect. Kept going back and forth between upstanding citizen and gruff Busan satoori. You wondered if he was aware. Probably not. “You have it way more together than me. I’m fuckin’ trying. Ugh.” His tone tightened. “It’s not… It’s not how you think it is. It’s not.”

You weren’t sure you thought it was anything but you let him talk. Nothing else to do, after all.

“I have great parents, you know.” He sighed. Despondently annoyed. “They’re awesome. I wanted to be a good son. That’s… I mean, doesn’t everybody? I listened to them. I listened to be teachers. I listened to my classmates. I wanted to be a good person, so I did everything asked of me from others.” His voice deepened to a soft growl.

“But… People take. I didn’t even realize it.”

You realized that Jungkook sounded sad.

“They take when they know you give. And I gave, because my parents taught me to be a good person and I didn’t want to disappoint them by people calling me heartless or cruel. But…” Mumbled something you didn’t catch. Cleared his throat. “It was becoming too much. I got fed up. I had to start saying no. But not before I had already said yes to a lot of stuff that I shouldn’t have said yes to. I had already developed bad habits by then.”

A few seconds of silence.

You broke it. “You’re too easily influenced,” you accused.

“Yeah, fuck me,” Jungkook grumbled. “Fuck me for not knowing that there are people are out there don’t have my best interests at heart and want to see me fucked up because they feel some type of way. My bad.”

You figured that was common sense. But maybe not. Maybe not, considering the way he talked about his parents. You pushed back your own personal biases despite their intrusive nature.

“Is your family disappointed in you?” you quietly asked.

“Me?” He let out a humorless laugh. “No. No, they’re supportive. Even if they don’t like my tattoos or the piercings or whatever, no one has ever made me feel shit about it. Everyone is positive. Even began to like those things about me when most elders would lose their shit.” He sighed. “But… I still didn’t quit the cigarettes. Just didn’t smoke around them, because I didn’t want to see my mom sad. But still. I didn’t even want to try to quit.”

A moment of reluctance.

“Until… Until I met you,” sighed Jungkook, his deep voice heavy.

Was that supposed to be flattering? You didn’t have time to ponder it.

“Hmph… I’m so envious of you.” A light thud. More rustling. He sounded a little muffled and a lot out of it. “You’re never ruffled. No matter what anyone says or does, you’re always yourself. You don’t relent even when I act like a prick. It’s so… Hah. I can’t do that.” He sounded defeated. “I try to not care too. I’m trying. I’m trying so fucking hard. The second I think I’ve got it, yes, this is me, I remember it’s not. It’s not. I just copied someone else I saw that I thought… Copying you… You’re right. Lots of people told me to quit. Or keep going, it’s not that bad. They can all fuck right off, until…”

A weak shuffle and then you could barely hear the whisper in between the phone lines. His face was seemingly buried into something. He sounded both far away and so very close at once.

“What am I doing…? It doesn’t… Doesn’t make sense.”

You almost said something. It wasn’t the right time. You shifted your position on the floor, leaning back against the bed. He must have heard that you were still on the other side of the line. He dragged more strength into his voice. As much as he could muster, anyway.

“How…” He shuddered. Whispered your name under his breath in the same way sailors called to stars to navigate the sea on a cold night. “You told me I should quit and… Yeah. I know you’re right. I know. I… The other night…”

The night you attempted to give him your lighter to keep.

Jungkook sniffed. “You can’t… Doesn’t matter. Doesn’t matter how you do it,” he mumbled. “You do. You just do. And so do I. I gotta just do.”

You finally spoke.

“Yes,” you sighed. “That’s the truth.”

Cradled the phone, leaning it against your temple.

“The world doesn’t care.” He sounded resigned but no longer on the edge. “Everyone just does what they wanna do.”

A long pause. For some reason, you had the impression that both of you were curled up somewhere at home suddenly feeling not at home. Maybe it was the time of the night. Or the alcohol on his end. Or the insomnia on your end. The long seconds marched on. Then, Jungkook asked you a question with a statement.

“I wish I knew what… What I wanna do.”

Silence.

You half-smiled knowing he couldn’t see it. Preferred, actually, that he didn’t. “Gonna be honest,” you chuckled. “I don’t know what I want to do. I follow my instincts and accept wherever I end up.”

He snorted. Haughtily. It was meant to dent to your demeanor and it was about as effective as a puff of popcorn. “Of course. Hah.” Exhaled hard, taking the fight out of himself. “You really… You really don’t know…?”

You debated what you did and didn’t know. “About what?”

An irritated huff. Something about your tone seemingly made him hesitate, though. He caught the gist of what was unsaid. Maybe it was because he was drunk. Sober Jungkook could never.

“If.” Just that. If. “Ah…”

He breathed out your name. It was very late. The darkness was at its peak. But Jeon Jungkook breathed your name with the capacity of a dreamer, half-conscious and losing fast.

“I won’t let it end like this.”

There were a few minutes of quiet.

You hung up before he could start snoring in your ear. A small part of you kind of wanted to hear it. But, instead, you hung up. Placed your phone on your lap. Stared straight ahead, to the windowsill and the peek of the city skyline against a black sky. You thought about his voice on the other end. Calling for you. You sat in silence. Night bled away. You wanted to reach for the lighter again. Your instincts told you not to.

So, you hoisted yourself up and crawled under your covers, giving in to exhaustion’s embrace.

-

The next time you saw Jeon Jungkook was an evening at a convenience store. It was a coincidence. Or perhaps one of fate’s great jokes. You spied him the second you walked into the small establishment. He was talking to a tall man with a sun-kissed tan and longish black hair in soft curls. They obviously knew each other. Jungkook’s laugh was his typical bright guffaw that he tried to stifle to not be a public disturbance.

For a second, you almost forgot that call from a few nights ago.

You looked away, heading to the other side of the store.

Before you did, though, he had glanced in your direction and done a double-take. You moved into an aisle, out of sight, heading to the back, changing your original intent for being here. This particular convenience store was family-owned. It had a small section where the owner’s wife prepared fresh gimbap daily. You wondered how many people knew about this, because it was always stocked. Maybe they preferred to buy from bigger stores, not trusting a small business. You grabbed a tray of heftily-filled tuna gimbap before heading to the fridge section for drinks.

Jungkook was standing there.

You pulled back into the aisle.

His back had been to you, so he didn’t have the chance to notice. Half-in the fridge, picking something out among the electrolyte replenishers and flavored waters. He carried a black backpack that seemed heavy with things. Workout stuff, you assumed. His companion earlier had a towel around his shoulders and had worn a red tank top with exaggerated armholes, revealing a built chest and defined arms. Jungkook’s black hair looked slightly damp, possibly sweaty, pushed back and away from his forehead. He was wearing an open navy hoodie, white tank top, gray sweatpants, and white sneakers. It was safe to assume the backpack had workout shit in it. You wondered where the other guy was. He had been very tall. Easy to spot over the tops of the aisles, but he seemed to no longer be in the store. He must have left, then. No one to distract Jungkook any longer. Hm. You still wanted a drink, but.

Not that badly.

You zipped your black hoodie over your exposed stomach once you noticed the cashier was the elderly woman. You probably would have zipped it no matter who it was. The older generation just tended to be less subtle about their judgements. You approached the register and she smiled, greeting you. You slid the tuna gimbap over to her.

He was behind you.

You glanced at the glass behind the cashier. The cabinet held various brands of cigarettes. It was very well-polished, and you could see Jungkook behind you, sternly staring at the back of your head. You turned around.

He shot you a questioning look, furrowing his eyebrows.

“The total is–”

In his hands was a big bottle. Some kind of sports drink. You took it from him, and put it next to your tuna gimbap. The old woman didn’t quite register the speed of your action, blinking several times.

“Sorry,” you said. “Could you please add this too? Thank you.”

Clearly, she could only focus at one thing at a time. She did not realize you had snatched the drink from the man behind you, which would immediately raise eyebrows. Instead, the older woman was preoccupied with searching for the barcode, turning the bottle this way and that, poking the scanner against it.

Adding it to your receipt.

You felt a hand on your shoulder.

You pulled out your card as the cashier stated your new total. Tapped it as Jungkook hissed your name under his breath, but you ignored him, accepting the purchase as the cashier carefully packed up your meal and someone else’s drink in the same small clear plastic bag. She smiled her customer service smile and then noticed the disheveled punk behind you with a slight widening of her eyes.

You thanked her again and wished her a nice day before gripping his hoodie sleeve and dragging him with you.

Immediately let go when you exited the establishment, finally paying heed to the muttering of curses behind you. You reached into the thin plastic bag and pulled out his drink, pivoting slightly to give it to him. Jungkook snatched it from your hand, scowling.

“I don’t need your fuckin’ charity,” he snapped.

You wondered if he even remembered his drunken laments. “It’s not charity.” You affixed an impassive expression. “Not for you, anyway. Just making it easier for the cashier.” You began to take a few steps in the direction you needed to go.

He scoffed, “What are you doing, anyway?” and cocked his chin at you. “Stalking me now?”

You wondered if he was wishing for that. “I’m retrieving dinner like everybody else at this hour. ‘Cept you, I guess,” you added, unzipping your hoodie again even though the sun was dropping fast.

“What the–”

And Jungkook quickly jogged up beside you, shielding your body with his.

“The hell you doing?”

You glared but didn’t stop walking. “What?” Impolitely.

He pointed to your sports bra with a flick of his wrist. “Uh, you can’t leave the house like that.”

“I already have,” you pointed out. His eyes were glued to your sports bra and the low-waisted black Nike sweatpants clinging to your hips.

“And you think nothing is going to happen to you?” Jungkook indignantly shot back, blocking your way and darting his gaze around as if offenders were already on the horizon.

“Whether it does or not has no bearing on what I’m wearing,” you dryly replied. He was repeating a tale as old as time. Not that that made it any less real. It was all heard before, though. “You act like I haven’t lived for decades knowing the horrors of the world.”

His expression changed. Still frustrated. Slightly put off by your wording. And, sadly, comprehension. “That’s not what I mean.”

“That’s what you’re coming off as.”

“Not my intention,” he grumbled.

“Intentions don’t mean much in the face of what actually happens,” you said, glancing at him.

He shut up.

You almost regretted spilling your honesty.

“Sorry,” he said softly.

He seemed beaten down by your response. Eventually he shook his head and ran his free hand through his windswept black hair, trying to sneak a glimpse at your face. You were already staring at him. That threw him off. He looked away, flustered.

“Can I at least accompany you back?” he offered. Awkwardly.

You ticked your head. You knew that his gym was near that convenience store. “Don’t you live around here?” He had mentioned it, once. “I need to take the bus.” Earlier, you were aware that there was definitely a chance for you would run into him once you chose your destination. But it was the closest spot to buy liquor, and you hadn’t felt like traveling further. Then the original plan changed once you encountered Jungkook. Remembering all that made you pause. You diverted your gaze, adding, “Forget it. Go home.”

Monotone.

Your dismissal clearly annoyed him. He let out an exaggerated exhale and blocked you again when you tried to walk around him. You narrowed your eyes but didn’t raise your head. His tank top was tight, revealing the contours of his muscle. The shoulder of his hoodie had slid down, exposing part of his tattoo sleeve. Dark rings of petals in a hypnotizing mandala. The artist was talented enough to make you pause to admire. Then you swiftly looked away, anywhere else, shifting to his jaw. He stuck his tongue in his cheek and steeled himself.

“Fine.” He came to a conclusion, apparently. “I need a smoke.”

A ripple of aggravation shot through your temple. You turned your stare to fixate on Jungkook. He glared back, twice as stubborn.

“You serious?” you snarled. “Go back to the store then and buy some yourself.”

He rolled his eyes. “The fuck is the point of giving them to you, then?”

You jerked back, disgusted. “I didn’t fucking want them, asshole.”

“Yeah, well,” he pressed, becoming more resolute by the second. “That was the deal.”

You planted a palm on his chest and shoved him out of your way. Unbelievable. “There was no fucking deal,” you retorted, walking fast. He kept up because he was an annoying prick. You glowered, bristling at his presence. “What? You think you can do whatever you want, Jeon Jungkook?” The audacity of this bitch. “I’m not gonna fuckin’ give them to you anyway. So, promptly, fuck off.”

His fingertips touched your shoulder.

You yanked your body back as if scalded.

“Don’t touch me.”

He pulled his hand out of the air but didn’t back down. Those dark brown eyes narrowed. His lips thinned. Anger clouded his features. And. You felt your icy composure become brittle when you observed the distressed sadness poorly hidden underneath said anger.

A tense stillness.

“They’ll kill you,” you steely stated.

His gaze shifted. Contorted. The expression of all too well.

“Yeah.” He exhaled hard. “That’s the truth.”

Then his eyes drifted back to you.

All the fight in the air drained out. Neither of you dared to speak. There were volumes written within this shared quiet. Strangers walked past, sending you both strange looks. You and him were too busy being struck in three-in-the-morning thoughts shared during an impromptu phone call. You looked away. So did he. There was a loud screech of metal and heavy tires on asphalt. You didn’t say anything. You only had time for an instinctive decision.

You tapped Jungkook’s forearm and waved, quickly running to catch up with the bus.

Less than a minute later, him and you stiffly sat next to each other on worn seats, trying your best not to glance at one another or make eye contact with anyone else. It was mostly successful, other than a strong-smelling middle-aged man that was eyeing everybody a little too closely. He settled on you for an unknown but undoubtably nefarious reason. Jungkook shoved you against the side of the bus and firmly put his backpack in his lap, blocking the view of your torso from the stranger’s perspective. Either the random man noticed the silent hostility or lacked object permeance when drunk. He changed course.

Both of you relaxed slightly.

You zipped up your hoodie anyway. Couldn’t hurt. You lifted your head. By mistake, your eyes locked with Jungkook’s. He looked like he wanted to say something but he stayed mute for now. It was a quiet bus ride, leaving both of you in roads of thought neither of you wanted to be in.

-

“You can go home now.”

Jungkook reminded you. “I need a smoke, remember?”

You held your apartment keys and frowned at him. He gave you a casual shrug you didn’t trust. He held onto his backpack and the drink you had bought him, now half-empty. You turned away, licking the side of your teeth. Glanced from all the closed doors around you. You couldn’t shake the tension at your shoulders. Passed by his face. There was something in his expression. You let out an exhale through your nose and shoved your key into the lock, harshly twisting it.

“Fine. Go look for them,” you invited not-so-invitingly.

The door was old and jammed in the frame. You shoved it, hard, and it swung open with almost too much force. You grabbed the knob before it could hit the wall in a practiced motion, crossing the threshold to remove your shoes and scoot them by the wall. He followed, somewhat startled by your daily habits. You ignored him. Instead, you headed for the tiny kitchen with your tuna gimbap, intending to devour it as Jungkook did his search. Chopsticks from the drawer. Taking out the tray of food and placing it on the counter while you balled up the plastic bag to put it in the correct recycling bin. Yanked off the lid and picked up the end piece to eat.

You chewed.

It was fresh. Pretty good.

Without turning around, you removed your hoodie and threw it to the side. It shot to the back of the sofa and clumped. You kept eating. You had already heard Jungkook lock the door, remove his shoes, and dump his backpack on the hardwood floor with a thump. The cigarettes were exactly where you left them. Next to your bedside table lamp with your lighter leaning against them. You ate another piece, staring at the bottom of your gray-stained cabinets, and only now realizing how hungry you were. Huh.

It was eerily quiet.

Weird.

You chewed on your third piece and twisted your body to find Jungkook still standing by the door, staring at your living room with wide eyes. The apartment was quite small. Maybe a little bit crammed. The living room had a black fabric sofa, a dark-stained coffee table that had seen too many late-night dinners, and the TV on a low storage unit.

And mirrors.

Mirrors all over the walls. Most of them were small. Some were vintage with aged metal frames or darkened bamboo frames. Some of them weren’t in the best shape, the reflective glass becoming patchy and spotted. Some were a little more than smoked glass. They were all from thrift stores or resell markets. There was no real rhyme or reason to their placement all over the living room other than chaotically aesthetic. The ones on the bookshelf unit by the window were all lined up. Unique pocket mirrors with various shapes. There were a few anime and cartoon character motifs sprinkled in.

“What the fuck…?”

He finally gave you a look slight frightened concern but mostly confusion.

You shrugged. Casually. “I like to collect mirrors.” You munched.

“No shit?” Jungkook still looked mildly appalled. He furrowed his brows to regain some sort of control over his face. “And you called me a creep.” Still, he shuffled further in, peering over them. “There’s so many of them… The fuck you need all this for?”

“Nothing.”

He shot you a look over his shoulder and quickly diverted his eyes once he noticed your exposed shoulders. “Nothing?” he echoed indignantly.

“There’s no real purpose,” you reaffirmed, grabbing another piece of gimbap with a click of your chopsticks. “Why does anyone have a collection?”

Jungkook snorted. “Collecting music albums or even plushies is less weird then…” He paused. Then angled his body slightly, as if to listen to what you had to say without directly viewing you. “Is there a reason you collect mirrors?”

You, too, stilled. Seeing the back of his head and his broad shoulders suddenly reminded you that this was the first time you had ever invited Jeon Jungkook into your space and rather impulsively at that. You faced the counter again. The gimbap was about three-fourths gone. It was probably a good idea to finish it all now. You chewed on your lower lip, debating on whether or not to tell him the reason.

“When I was young,” you said, directed to the unfinished gimbap. “I didn’t like looking at myself in mirrors. Guess I had some kind of complex about them.” You didn’t elaborate. You positioned your chopsticks over another piece of the roll but didn’t yet pick it up. “When I moved in here, I didn’t really care about decorating it either. Figured it didn’t matter. At some point, I got tired of the blank walls, so I went to a secondhand shop to find something to put on the wall, and I remembered I don’t like mirrors.”

Hated them, really.

“So, I brought one because I thought the design was cool. And kept buying them.”

You half-laughed, mirthlessly.

“I decided it’s stupid to hate something like that, anyway,” you muttered, and chomped down another piece. You should have gotten out the soy sauce. Hah. With self-exasperation, you opened a cabinet to take out the small glass dispenser. Poured a little on the edge of the tray to dip the last few pieces in.

“That’s cool.”

His voice seemed louder, somehow. “You called me a creep,” you hummed.

“I didn’t call you a creep,” Jungkook said behind you.

You turned around, bristling. He was distracted, looking around your relatively neat kitchen. Probably taking note that there were no mirrors here. You restricted your collection to the living room walls to prevent overbuying. His eyes stopped at the gimbap on the counter at waist height. His dark eyes raised. Tentative. Your pulse accelerated a bit. You kept your expression neutral, chewing slowly.

“Thought you needed a smoke?” you asked after swallowing. You waved your chopstick towards the bedroom. “Be my guest.”

The tips of his ears flushed pink. He was sort of looking at you but also not. You tried not to notice that his navy hoodie had fallen off his shoulder, revealing his defined, tattooed right arm all the way to his elbow. His hands were shoved into the side pockets of his sweatpants. He was in the middle of scrutinizing yours.

“Are those mine?” Jungkook asked, completely ignoring your question.

You flicked the side seam by your thigh. “I’ll wash them and give them back. Seemed pointless to wear them for only a short while and wash immediately.” You leaned against the counter. “I haven’t forgotten. Don’t worry your pretty little head.”

His eyes shot up to your face at your comment. You shared a glare. Both of you held it more out of stubbornness than intimidation. For what reason, you weren’t sure. There were only parts of him you disliked. Not all of him. Well. Maybe if you and him dialed back the hostility, then.

Both of you broke eye contact at the same time.

“They… They look good on you.” It wasn’t said in a sarcastic way. The sincerity was somehow more alarming. “Keep them.”

“No thanks,” you retorted with more familiarity than you intended. “I don’t need your charity.” You shouldn’t have said that.

It didn’t end up mattering, though.

“Do you remember when I called you a couple nights ago?” Jungkook suddenly blurted, thrusting you both into whiplash of conversation topic change.

You froze.

There was no cue to tell you what was the right thing to say. It was best to glance at his expression to find out, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to. There was something about the distance of a phone call that made deep conversations easier. But you realized from his abruptness that he, too, must have been struggling to bring up the elephant in the room. Could have let it sleep, but this guy wouldn’t let it be.

Still, you understood him.

You pursed your lips and rubbed your collarbone with your free hand. “Only one of us was drunk and it wasn’t me,” you finally sighed. Raised your head.

His ears were very red now. You saw Jungkook battle between being a smartass and his natural self. You saw him wish he was a natural smartass. He cleared his throat, his chest tensing. “Uh… Sorry,” he mumbled. “Sorry about… Calling so late.” He cleared his throat again despite his discomfort being purely emotional. His eyes shifted. “I didn’t think you’d answer… But you did.” He chanced a glimpse at your reaction.

You shrugged.

Casually.

He nodded quickly even though you hadn’t said anything. “I don’t remember everything I said,” he rambled in a tone that clearly indicated he did. “So, don’t, uh, don’t take it too seriously.” He was taller than you but it didn’t feel like that right now.

You considered his words and quietly replied with, “Okay.”

His eyes drifted to the kitchen counter. Lingered on your waist, but not for long. He ticked his chin towards the leftovers. “Can I have a piece?”

Wordlessly, you held out the chopsticks so he had access to the other, unused end. He hesitated. Then pulled a hand from his pocket. You moved out of the way as he retrieved the chopsticks from your grip and took a step to be closer to the counter.

It was weird.

Standing in your small kitchen next to Jeon Jungkook eating your dinner leftovers.

Mostly it was weird because it didn’t make you highly uncomfortable or positively annoyed. It felt normal, which is what made it otherworldly odd. As if you were getting used to his presence beside you. You winced and tried not to make it obvious. You heard him try to say your name between bites.

“Chew your food,” you muttered, angling your face away but not your body. Couldn’t bring yourself to watch him eat. You heard the rattle of the plastic tray against the counter as he dipped in the soy sauce. Then you felt a nudge by your arm.

Before you could stop your natural reaction, you were face-to-face with Jungkook who was holding out the last piece to you with full cheeks and an expectant expression. You blinked at him. The blunt end of the chopsticks was used, but he was holding out the gimbap with the slender side. The end you had been eating with. The seaweed glistened with soy sauce. His free hand was under the chopsticks, cradling air in the dire last resort that it fell. He roughly swallowed, looking more annoyed with each passing second.

“Open up.”

“No,” you automatically replied.

He rolled his eyes. “Come on.”

You made a face. “This is weird.”

He made a face back. Disturbing. “Shut up and open your mouth.”

“I wo–”

That was precisely the moment Jungkook shoved the chopsticks into your mouth. Instinctively, you lowered your jaw to catch it all, glaring at him. He scowled back, about to remove the chopsticks before you caught them in your teeth with your mouth full of tuna, vegetables, and rice. There was a brief, pointless tug of war before you pulled your head back rather than let him perform the action. Jungkook squinted at you, irritated, and you were just as perturbed, chewing decidedly before swallowing.

Sudden silence.

He lowered the chopsticks to balance them on the empty tray. You ran your tongue over your teeth to catch any rice stragglers. It became hard to maintain eye contact. Now he was facing the cabinets and you were facing the living room of mirrors. Minutes ticked by.

The quiet became violent.

You whipped your head to Jungkook. “So, what–”

He spoke at the same time. “You know I’m not joking, right?” he asked softly.

His profile was statuesque. Instantly recognizable. Imprinted in memory. And then his dark eyes shifted, his black hair framing his temples, and now Jungkook was searching for your eyes that remained on him. You shut your mouth. He realized he had interrupted you.

“What did you want to say?”

You faltered and then shook your head. “Not important.”

His brows furrowed. “Don’t–”

“Joking about what?” you interjected. “Don’t try to distract me.”

He was, rightfully, irate. “You–”

You wrapped an arm around your midsection, suddenly feeling cold. “Is this about you quitting smoking?”

Immediately he noticed. Your demeanor demanding him to answer was a little too intense to be ignored, though. “That’s…” He tutted, his voice deepening slightly. “I’ve already quit.” You raised an eyebrow. “What?” He was trying to unconvincingly convince you. It had barely been a couple weeks, anyway. ‘Ugh, okay, fine. Maybe I bummed a cig a couple of times. But only for a couple puffs. Don’t fucking look at me like that,” Jungkook snapped. “Like you don’t have any bad habits.”

“I have bad habits,” you answered coldly. “But I also deal with how I feel. Something you should get started on.”

He threw up his hands and began to back away from the counter, until.

“Is this how you want to spend your life?” you asked.

His back was to you now. Reluctance took over, rendering his movements as statuesque as he looked moments before. You stared at his back, wondering if you had gone too far. Wondering if these shared moments were all for naught. Not really in the very real chance that he could leave and never look back, but in the very real chance that he did and nothing changed for him. Or for you. In the chance that your interactions would ultimately mean nothing in this life when it was very clear that both of you wanted to mean something. Anything.

“I don’t.”

You looked up and Jungkook was looking back at you over his shoulder. He lowered his gaze when your eyes connected before half-turning to face you, halfway between running to and running from. You asked yourself, if it was anyone else, would you stay this silent? Before it registered, you reached out and tugged his hoodie sleeve.

After all, you did always have a light for him.

He raised his eyes.

“You’re trying. Aren’t you?” You gave him a dry smile before letting go.

His lashes lowered to waning half-moons. Then he ticked his head, asking, “Do you really hate it that much?” His eyes found yours. He already knew the answer and was asking it anyway.

You told him the truth. “Yeah.”

The corner of his lips flicked upwards wryly. “Damn. So honest.”

You almost laughed. “Well… You wouldn’t like me at all if you knew I was a liar.” Then your words caught up to you. “Not that you do,” you added after a beat.

“I do,” corrected Jungkook before looking away.

Maybe he was embarrassed by his admission. You, however, were preoccupied with other thoughts. The mirrors. Your insomnia. His tattoos. His cigarettes. Your coldness. His fire. The way you tended to lock down your deep emotions and the way his tended to spill out when they overflowed. You held the lighter. He longed to burn. You liked him. That thought lingered. You hated the smoking, true, not only because of all the obvious discomforts, but also because you had a feeling that he knew he could quit and only did it to further punish himself for things he didn’t do.

You just had a feeling since you, too, punished yourself for things you didn’t do.

You felt something soft brush against your shoulders.

His hoodie smelled like him, herbal and fresh with depth, with a vague hint of washed-out acid smoke. You glanced over. He looked apologetic, gesturing to your arm over your midsection. His built chest and sculpted shoulders were mildly distracting. His white tank top clung to his body, not leaving much to the imagination. You frowned. Jungkook saw your face and braced himself for a reprimanding.

You asked him a question you had been wondering for a while now.

“Did you plan this?”

That wasn’t what he expected. His features twisted into confusion. “Uh?” He seemed to forget his anxiousness for a moment. “Plan what?” The perfect deer-in-headlights look.

You angled your body to better face him and held the edge of the hoodie, narrowing your eyes. “You know what I mean,” you warned.

He sensed danger and held up his hands in defeat. “I don’t?”

Those big brown eyes begged you to believe him. Either he was stupid or a really good actor. You relaxed slightly. You weren’t banking on the latter and really hoped you were right. You grimaced, backing away. It wasn’t fair to let learned behavior judge him yet constant vigilance was also needed for survival. You sighed, stepping around him.

“Never mind. It’s late. Just sleep in my bed. I’ll take the couch.”

“The fuck?” Jungkook followed, infuriated, much like the rest of the night. “I can’t do that.”

“The buses aren’t running this late,” you stated matter-of-factly. You waved him away, plopping onto your sofa with a tired exhale. “Or you can call a taxi, I guess. You want money for that?”

He smacked his hand down on the back of the sofa and scowled, bending down to intimidate you.

“I am not some kid!”

You looked up at him.

Jungkook froze, realizing the closeness.

He was naturally a very handsome man. You had always thought so. Never told him. He had probably heard it enough. He faltered, losing the fight but not yet letting go of the sofa. You observed the line of his jaw and thought about how hard he had to work to fulfill the image others had of him. How hard he worked to break that image, only to shoulder a different set of expectations, for only a certain level of coolness could combat the goodness he lost. If not one thing, then another. He must not have felt that he fit those ideals either. He couldn’t win.

You worried that he simply liked you in a vain attempt to feel some level of control.

Crestfallen, his eyes wandered, then realized he couldn’t because then he would be staring down your chest or at your thighs. He pretended that he wasn’t looking and raised his head, saying the first thing that came to mind.

“I feel like I don’t know you at all.”

It wasn’t so much accusatory as it was a revelation.

You lowered your gaze and realized you were staring at his chest or his crotch. That was out of the question. You almost wished he would sit down next to you, but he was right. There was a moment where you considered brushing him off as you did with everyone else. Your eyes connected. As you stared into those dark brown orbs, your instincts taunted you, asking you want you were afraid of.

“There’s nothing good to know,” you admitted. “Better to keep things to myself.”

His expression told you he fucking hated that.

He looked up to the mirrors around the room. You could see he was still a bit creeped out by them and tried very hard not to say it. Your elderly landlord did often joke about how you were inviting spirits into your home with these old mirrors. You usually countered with they also symbolized fate, to which he guffawed and asked how many fates you needed.

Sometimes, it felt like you needed every chance you could get.

“I can’t sleep in your bed,” he finally concluded, steeling himself.

“Your smokes are on my nightstand. So is my lighter.”

The door to the bedroom was partway open but Jungkook even didn’t look in that direction. His ears were slowly turning scarlet. He distracted himself with your statements. “What? Why?” He frowned. “I thought you threw ‘em away.”

You shrugged. “Seemed like a waste of money.”

He muttered under his breath. “Yeah. That’s what they are.” He looked a little ashamed. Shook his head, trying to convince himself. “Even more reason not to go in there and be tempted.” He began to step around your legs, shooing you away with a gruff, “Move.”

You didn’t move.

“You hate my bed that much even though you want to get in it?” you quipped.

Jungkook started. “That’s–”

You stood up abruptly.

It was so fast that he had no time to react. One moment you were sitting and the next you were standing right up to him with only a whisper of breath between your bodies, peering at his face. His hoodie fell off your shoulders and onto the cushions. His eyes widened, lips parting, and you witnessed him holding his breath as if that would somehow stop time.

Seconds that felt like hours ticked by.

You wondered how it would feel to be held by him.

“Fine,” you whispered, staring into his eyes. “I’ll get you a blanket and a pillow.”

And you walked around, letting him breathe again.

-

Being awake was torturous due to constantly fighting invasive thoughts. Being asleep was worse due to remaining imprisoned in those intrusive thoughts blended with uncontrolled imagination, which was your presumed explanation for your insomniac nights. Yeah. And people wondered why you kept to yourself. Such was being human, so once again you gave into the insanity of doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result because it could not be avoided.

Everyone had to sleep, after all.

And you woke up a few hours later, as predicted, wrenching yourself out of a dream you didn’t want to be in, trying your best to remember none of it. You were used to it. Routine of the night, so to speak. That made it more annoying than anxiety-inducing. You laid on your back in relative silence, staring into the darkness of the ceiling and running your fingers over your sheets. A folded portion of the duvet was trapped under your left side and you impatiently yanked it out from under you, forgetting the images of betrayal in the wake of another’s selfishness.

For tonight, anyway.

There was a loud snore on the other side of your bedroom door, offending your ears at this late hour. You sat up. You had been a little surprised at Jungkook accepting your offer. Then again, everything was happening because of split decisions and obvious desires. And some logic. Just not much. You hadn’t talked much after you handed him the extra pillow from your bed and a soft fuzzy blanket. There wasn’t much to talk about, not to mention both of you were trying to pretend as if this wasn’t happening. In movies and television shows, this would have gone in a whole different direction. In reality, it was a lot more awkward and untimely.

You glanced over to the nightstand that held his cigarettes and your lighter, barely making out the outlines of the items. Maybe his initial intention really was to come just to get them. Or maybe it was to put you in a compromising position or something like that. Neither of those things happened because neither of those things were who he was, only ideas of what he thought he could be, but he hadn’t thought any of it through, so now he was snoring up a storm on your sofa without a care in the world.

Unlike you, it seemed like his sleep was solace rather than a battleground.

You tapped a finger against the bed and then sighed, pulling yourself out from under the duvet to grab a large t-shirt to pull over your head. Headed to the bedroom door and opened it quietly, slipping out to the kitchen accompanied by Jungkook’s noisy and uncoordinated nose symphony. He was facing the inside of the sofa but, unfortunately for you and fortunately for him, had powerful lungs. There wasn’t much worry about rousing him. You opened the fridge and took out a bottle of water, hoping the cool liquid could refresh you somehow.

You faced the sink and took a few sips.

Was friendship even the correct word for what you and Jeon Jungkook had? It was more closeness from coincidence rather than a direct seeking out of the other. Closeness that became closer before either of you realized it, slowly losing all the people in between until only you and him were left. Maybe that was why he had a sort of fixation on you since everyone had distanced themselves for various reasons, relationships, careers, adventures. Then again, fixation seemed to be his defining feature.

You almost snorted, and would have if he wasn’t sleeping on your couch.

But maybe not, as he had paradoxical, flighty tendencies too. Always influenced by someone or some media he consumed. You weren’t without your own flaws, you knew. Deep thought and constant existential crisis didn’t exactly make for good company. Sometimes it was better not to think so much, which was why you tried to fight your instinctive nature at times. You looked over to the mirrors on the living room walls, taking another drink. They were small, not very useful as a looking glass or for nitpicking an outfit before leaving. You had not been lying when you told Jungkook that you bought them to get over your hatred of them. There was a time when you hated seeing your reflection because the person in the mirror wasn’t matching up with the person in your head.

Irrational, yes.

Reality was irrational.

You rested your ass against the bottom cabinets of your kitchen and sipped from the water bottle. You knew you weren’t a good person since you had long given up aspiring for something great. Anyone worth anything aspired for something great. Not even failure was frowned upon the in the presence of a dream nowadays. You didn’t understand why Jungkook was snoring in your apartment right now, why he cared if you got home in one piece, why he was trying so hard to quit smoking for someone like you who lived in irreverence. South Korea valued productivity, beauty, and giving away one’s humanity for the cause. Not giving a fuck made you no better than the bottom of the barrel.

You couldn’t answer what he so heavily hinted at because it just didn’t make any sense.

Maybe he was just dumb.

Jungkook snored particularly loud and choked, throwing himself into a coughing fit.

You frowned and made your way over to him as he shrimped up and groaned, highly displeased and groggy from this turn of events. There was no obvious reaction to you approaching him. Either he didn’t hear you or didn’t register where he was.

You placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Nrgh…”

“You alright?” You kept your voice low, a level above a whisper. “Want some water?”

He said your name as if underwater. Muffled and out of it. You pulled your hand away as he turned over and sat up, squinting hard. “Uh?” He was still wearing his tank top which was now wrinkled around his waist. The top of his chest glistened with sweat. He probably usually slept shirtless and didn’t do so to be polite.

You held out the plastic bottle in your hand. “Water.”

He wasn’t thinking straight because he grabbed the bottle from you without objection, as if he wholeheartedly accepted you were the cold-water fairy of his dreams. He drank without so much of a thank you and with his lips right against the opening, crushing the latter half of what was left in only a few seconds.

“Uwah…!”

He dropped his hand, breathing out hard. You glanced at your empty hand. Comtemplated on giving him a reality check of what he just did but instead decided to let it go.

“Uh… Why are you awake?” he asked you blearily, becoming more awake by the second.

Some truths were better left unsaid for now. “Getting used to your snoring,” you mused, dropping your hand.

Jungkook seemed embarrassed. Looked from the water bottle to the coffee table behind your legs. The distance was too great for it to be casual. He clung onto it for emotional safety. “S-Sorry about that,” he mumbled, straightening his tank top and rubbing his neck.

“It’s probably a side effect of your smoking,” you commented.

He shot you an angry pout but there was no retort when you were right. “It’s probably my rhinitis,” he huffed. An uncomfortable, short silence.

Once again, both of you were reminded of a late-night call in the dead of night.

You held out your hand for the water bottle. After a moment, Jungkook handed it back. Apparently, it still hadn’t occurred to him why it was half-empty.  He seemed more curious about you being awake. You wondered that too. You gestured to the pillow.

“It’s not comfortable, is it?”

He followed your gesture and half-heartedly shrugged. “I’ll be okay.” He shot you a look. “Worried about me?” His deep, sleepy voice sounded a lot cockier than he looked. He looked like a puppy that had just woken up after napping in a weird position. His black hair was sticking up every which way.

“I’m always worried about you,” you replied with a deadpan face.

His eyes widened.

You followed up with, “You’re an idiot.”

That pissed Jungkook off. He reached up to smack you and you caught his hand in the air. That woke him up. But honestly you were losing sleep and energy fast. It made you catch his fingers at an odd angle, almost a caress, and you were too tired to care, sighing before backing away, slowly letting go of his hand. His fingertips slid over the inside of your wrist. You turned your back to him.

You headed to the kitchen and tossed the bottle in the proper recycling bin.

He called your name.

“What?” you grumpily replied, straightening.

“You’re not wearing pants…” Jungkook reminded you.

You had to bend over to access the sorted trash. “Lucky you.”

His tone became gruff. “Don’t be so reckless in front of a guy.”

You half-turned and raised an eyebrow. He was still firmly seated on your sofa. “You act like I’m not standing in my kitchen next to my knives,” you pointed out, ticking your head in the direction of your knife block. “Also, are you implying that you’re a trashy guy?”

“I’m not a trashy guy,” he snapped angrily.

“Then what do I have to be worried about?” You took the steps towards your bedroom door.

“I just don’t like how you obviously have no interest in me,” Jungkook muttered under his breath, throwing himself down onto the sofa and turning his back to you.

You stopped in the doorway.

He was not provoking you. He sounded more like a kid that didn’t get his way rather than an adult trying to reverse psychology you. His words were not meant to change your mind. Yet, all of a sudden, you began to wonder what the fuck you were dancing in this limbo for. All because you didn’t want to be someone’s reason for anything? Well, congratulations, you failed. You failed your dream of a pointless existence. Woohoo. You rolled your eyes to the sky and turned around.

He was still pill-bug-positioned when you grabbed his shoulder and yanked him from the cease in the sofa, lowering your head to hiss, “Stop being a fucking brat.”

You expected him to tense up. His head jerked around and Jungkook stared at you. Wide-eyed, as if you had just pulled him out of a top hat by his ears. You glared, physically tired and tired of this shit, sliding your hand down his collarbone and cupping his chin, pulling him to better face you, tilting your head to narrow your eyes at him.

He sputtered. “W… What?”

“You heard me,” you answered in a clipped tone. “Get up.”

“Huh?”

You let go of his chin and slapped his upper arm. “Get up.”

In a tangle of long limbs and bewilderment, you yanked him up by his forearm, snatching the pillow from under him. Dragged him and his twisted blanket skirt into your bedroom. You hadn’t given him enough time to unravel himself. You let go of his forearm and slammed the pillow onto the empty right side of the bed, pointing rudely to the rumpled poof.

“Lay down,” you ordered.

Jungkook waved his hands, panic rising in his gravelly voice. “I can’t–”

“I don’t give a fuck,” you interrupted and marched behind him, shoving the small of his back. He got the hint after a short flailing about, shuffling towards the side of the bed before flopping onto the duvet like a caught tuna. He tried not to make eye contact, but you weren’t looking anyway, too busy crossing over to the other side and slinking under the duvet.

He squeaked out an, “Um…”

“Shut up,” was your automatic grumble. “Go to sleep.”

He answered in a small voice. “But… What if I snore…?”

“I know you’ll snore,” you grunted, reaching to him and pinning his shoulder down. He was above the duvet, half-wrapped in the blanket you had given him earlier. You had noticed he was still wearing his gray sweatpants so he wasn’t indecent. Not that it mattered. “I’ll get used to it.”

“I…”

You made a growling noise in warning, squinting at his face.

He gulped. “I just… Wanted to say thanks…”

You let go of him and turned your back, firmly closing your eyes. Jungkook was right there. You had a queen-sized bed. Big enough, but not so big that he could pull himself far away from you. You could feel his presence. It wasn’t a bad thing, though.

“You’re welcome,” you mumbled curtly and didn’t say any more.

-

When he opened the door, he looked disheveled and distractable, noisily chewing gum, jerking his head around your periphery as if he expected you to bring an entourage to shake him down. You stood at his doorstep, perturbed. His dark eyes flickered to you and nearly bulged out of his head.

“The hell are you wearing?” Jeon Jungkook blurted without any formal or informal greeting.

You thought you would be used to it by now. It was becoming kind of funny, in a way. “These are my work clothes,” you calmly explained. It was true that he hadn’t seen you in a nice silk blouse and fitted pencil skirt before. Dark teal and jet black, respectively. “I have a job I go to.”

This was the logical answer but it was not exactly the answer Jungkook wanted. You could tell by the knitting of his brows, his still open mouth, and the way he was just staring at your hips instead of continuing the conversation. His black hair was sticking up in the back. As usual, he was wearing casual clothes. A big, light gray t-shirt and charcoal sweats.

You raised your hand and shut his jaw so you didn’t have to view his half-chewed pink gum. “You’re going to the gym, aren’t you?”

It broke him out of his trance. He looked irritated, chewing again. More than that. He looked jittery. “Yeah.” He seemed to be having a mental debate. You wanted no part of that. “I was about to drink a protein shake while waiting for you.”

“Cool,” you said in an impassive tone that indicated you had no interest in protein shakes. You reached into your mid-size black leather bag and pulled out his black sweatpants, now clean and smelling of dryer sheet. “Here, then.” You lifted your head to hold them out.

Jungkook had abandoned his front door.

A muscle in your cheek twitched. His apartment was more modern, although about the same size as yours. Space was a luxury. The door was slowly closing without the aid of someone holding it. You smacked your palm against the light wood and pushed it open, your black heels clicking on the dark gray hardwood. Or was it vinyl? Hard to tell and you didn’t care to inspect. The walls were bright cool white. His big black backpack was on the floor of the short entrance hall. It was slightly open. Black boxing gloves with yellow accents and white towels were shoved in there. You expected him to be messy but all of his sneakers were lined up against the wall. Could use a shoe rack, though.

Jungkook reappeared, gum-less this time, carrying a shake tumbler with a vanilla-colored substance in it, clanging it about with one hand and trying to be chill. As chill as a nonchalant freak-out would be.

He coughed and asked, casually, “You go dressed like that to work?”

You weren’t sure why he gave a shit about what you were wearing. “Perks of an administrative desk job. Dress code.” You waved the rolled-up sweatpants in his direction. “Take these.”

He gave you a suspicious look as if you were the one to decide societal expectations for female office wear. “Who are you trying to impress?”

“The HR department,” you replied, deadpan. “I’d get fired if I showed up to work dressed like you.”

He nodded, agreeing but not convinced. “What if someone hits on you?”

“I set them on fire.”

Jungkook gawked at you.

You dropped your outstretched arm and clicked your tongue. “I don’t do anything. No one is allowed to date a co-worker and I’m not interested in any of them,” you explained. If only he knew that you sat alone in a cramped office and reviewed budgeting for university laboratories so no one was heedlessly using government funding. It was thrilling stuff. “Why do you care if someone hits on me?”

His eyes narrowed. “Of course, I care. I don’t want some asshole harassing you.” Before you could tell him to look in the mirror, he muttered, “Do you really think you won’t get hurt looking that hot?”

The real answer was that you didn’t care.

You tossed his sweatpants onto his backpack while saying, “Workplace harassment is very serious. I doubt my superiors want a scandal. You’re right. I’m considered attractive, so they want to keep me as a model employee and for gender equality points.”

“What about the train?” Jungkook pressed, stepping closer.

You almost rolled your eyes. “The subway is always shitty. Everybody knows that,” you said. “I’ve been taking the subway since high school. I’m pretty good at spotting psycho now.” You looked up at him with contained venom. “I can take care of myself.”

“I know that,” he snapped, placing his protein shake on the floor before confronting you again. “I just don’t like it.” He glared back.

You raised an eyebrow. “You don’t like that I can take care of myself?”

“No,” Jungkook stubbornly repeated. Frustration crept into his features. “It makes me mad.”

One look at his face and it was obvious what he was implying. There was no reason to give in, though. “That sucks.” You patted the top of his chest condescendingly. “Maybe you need to see a therapist for that.”

He jerked his head towards the mound on his backpack. “Take the pants back and put them on.”

You wondered if he was being this way because he had paranoia or because he had nothing better to do. “No,” you refused. You crossed your arms. “Don’t be this way only for yourself. Plus, I just washed them.”

Like an ox, he didn’t relent. “Then I’ll get you a different pair.”

You noticed you didn’t smell the scent of smoke on him. Not strong or faint. It was obvious he didn’t smoke in his apartment, but he probably did at the roof of the complex or somewhere similar. You didn’t know him to be a heavy smoker, but it inevitably got onto his belongings. You tilted your head. There hadn’t been any smell that night a couple weeks ago when he slept over at your apartment where you had eventually forced him to snore on the bed.

You had woken up to Jungkook sprawled out, snoring into the pillow and one arm on your tits.

Explained your dream where you felt annoying pressure on your chest. That morning had been rather uneventful other than waking him up and kicking him out of your apartment. You had the decency to be more polite than that, but neither of you were in a state to talk about it. Neither of you seemed to be morning people. You simply told him you had work. He had mumbled he did too, and he had to race out to get ready in time. Only now had you found time to stop by his apartment to return his borrowed sweatpants. Maybe you had been avoiding it a little bit. Texts between you both were sparse. Asking for his address and asking if he’d be home. You peered into his dark eyes. Jungkook paused. He seemed to sense that you weren’t walling him anymore.

“When was the last time you smoked?” You made sure not to sound accusatory.

He started. “Uh…” He looked sheepish. “I’ve been trying to last a month at least…” He gestured behind him to what you assumed was the kitchen. You could see part of his living room from here but not much. His couch was cognac brown leather. “Been chewing gum and going to the gym a bunch to fight the cravings.” Frowned and sighed. “It’s hard,” Jungkook bitterly muttered. He glared. “Bet you’re loving this.”

Unluckily for him, you weren’t intimidated by puppy growls. You nodded, noncommittal, and looked down. His charcoal sweatpants looked soft. Worn in with wear. Your eyes flickered back up. His followed with slight confusion etching into his expression. You held his gaze until you felt his discomfort.

And then you made an impulsive, instinctive decision.

“I’ll agree to borrowing another pair of your pants,” you finally said. He looked relieved. “As long as I get to pick which pair.”

He seemed puzzled but shrugged. “Sure?”

You pressed for confirmation. “Agree or not?”

“Yeah, sure,” Jungkook responded sharply. “What, you that desperate to raid my closet or something? Go ahead, then.” He waved a careless hand into the apartment.

But you stayed where you were. You stepped forward with a click of your heels. He stepped back in his house slippers, bewildered but still defiant, not yet realizing that you were not herding him further inside. He moved as if to let you lead the way, except you turned your body to block him, watching his every move.

His shoulder blades hit the wall.

Those big brown eyes blinked slowly. “Uh…”

You glanced down and then back up at his face.

Jungkook’s eyes tracked your movement. Didn’t get it. You repeated the dip of your chin and lashes, then back up. Dead silence. It slowly dawned onto him. You cocked your head, removing your crossed arms as his eyes became wider.

“W… What…?”

You didn’t let him hide his reaction, tracking every quiver of his lip and awkward chuckle. “They’re clean, aren’t they?” you asked as if it was the most sensible question in the world.

“Uh, well, yeah, b-but…” Jungkook stuttered, trying to decipher how serious you were or if he was even understanding the implications of your stare. “T-That’s…”

You backed up a step. “Then it’s a no?” you offered. “And you will stop trying to white knight my outfit choices?” You made yourself clear. “I won’t be changing them simply because you hate my clothes.”

His eyes narrowed. “I don’t hate your clothes. I like them. That is the problem,” he barked.

You gave him a blank look.

Jungkook sighed out of his nose before looking away and saying in a clipped tone, “Fine. I’ll change. Whatever.”

You moved before he could, blocking his way again.

He growled under his breath, glaring down. “What?”

You held aggressive eye contact. “We’re behind closed doors,” you reminded him. Gave him the pointed up-and-down. “Go on.”

Slight panic laced into his expression. “Uh… Are you serious?”

You already knew Jungkook wasn’t commenting on your fashion because he thought it was inappropriate. It was for the same innocuous reason that you were asking him for the charcoal sweatpants he was wearing right now. Well. Demanding.

“Deadly,” you answered him with a deadly smile.

He might be bigger and stronger than you, but he lacked the imposing audacity. You waited. He didn’t move. Ten full seconds passed. You had your answer, then. You gave him a curt nod and readjusted your grip on your work bag, about to turn away.

A strong hand wrapped around your wrist and gently pulled you back.

You backtracked to stand in front of him again. His eyes darted about somewhat nervously. “I get it…” he mumbled, still holding onto your wrist. His other hand was drifting down. He seemed uncomfortable but not in a bad way, which struck you as odd. He lifted the hem of his shirt a bit. It caught on the front tie of the sweatpants. The tips of his ears were pink. Jungkook hooked a thumb under the waistband and averted his eyes.

You reached forward and pulled on the end of the looped strings.

He nearly yelped and jerked back, causing the tie to come unraveled. You had leaned over a little to get access. Lifted your gaze to look up at his shocked face. He was speechless. You didn’t straighten up yet. Just stared into his eyes. His lips parted but no words came out.

You smiled.

He uneasily let go of your wrist. You backed out of his personal space. Jungkook gave you a strange look and stripped off his pants with a swift tug downwards, bending a knee to kick them up and into his hand, immediately holding them in front of his body.

“Here.”

He thrust the balled-up sweats into your chest. You looked at it. Then at him. Then tried to crane your head downwards.

“H-Hey!”

He waved wildly. You stumbled. He tried to catch you without dropping anything. Your hand came up to press against his chest, causing him to back against the wall again, clutching his pants in front of his crotch. You paused and searched his expression as you pulled back your hand. He was in between conflicted and stunned. His legs were quite defined. At least he didn’t skip leg day. You decided to do it. Lowered your bag to the floor so you had use of your two hands. You reached behind you for the invisible zipper of your skirt and pulled it down. Jungkook seemed to be in a perpetual state of silence. You had to wiggle slightly to free yourself of the tube of black fabric, stepping out of it primly before standing back up, leaving you in your sheer black stockings and with your blouse barely skimming the tops of your thighs.

Now both of you were holding your bottoms. One of you was simply dumbstruck. The other folded and rolled up the skirt, tucking it into your elbow, and stepped up to him. Immediately, his free hand shot up, planting right above your left breast, dark tattoos stark against his tan skin from the overhead light.

“W-Whoa, wait…!”

You tilted your head and rested your hand on the sweatpants he was now desperately clutching to his lower body. You tugged. He did not let go. You raised an eyebrow and began to lower your head. His fingertips hooked under your chin and yanked you back up to his terrified expression of wild eyes and fish mouth. You remained emotionless, giving him nothing. His cheeks flushed pink.

“I… I just need a second–”

You closed more of the distance, placing a leg in between his slightly open ones. His grip on your chin tightened. It didn’t scare you in the slightest. In contrast, big bad Jungkook looked like he was about to sink into the floor. You stilled. Maybe this was too far.

You leaned back a little but didn’t remove your leg. “A second for what?”

He swallowed hard, averting his gaze again. “U-Uh, j-j-just a s-second to breathe… that’s all,” he muttered.

“What’s the issue?” you calmly inquired.

“N-Nothing,” and that sounded like a whole lot of something.

You shifted your leg and your stocking-covered shin rubbed against his calf. Jungkook made a very strange noise and hastily pulled his hand back. You did not stop the contact. You simply watched the emotions play across his features as he shut his eyes, wordlessly mouthing swears before clenching his jaw and sliding up the wall to delicately back up.

“You sure it’s nothing?” Twice as unassuming and immediately tipping him off that you were aware of his predicament.

His brows furrowed. “Shut up.” He took in several deep breaths.

You hummed. “Is it that big of a deal?”

“Yes, it is,” Jungkook hissed. He cracked open one eye. “Have you no sense of danger?”

You did your best not to smile. Failed, but only just. “Not with you.”

Relief and annoyance washed over him. “Shut up,” he said again and you were beginning to realize he did not really mean for you to shut up. “Ugh.” He thrust the charcoal ball of fabric into your chest. “Here. Put it on.”

“No longer embarrassed?” you asked, catching a glimpse of his partial erection.

Jungkook pointedly looked away from you and stared at his own front door. “I’m not embarrassed. Put the pants on, damnnit. I can’t look at you.”

“Sure, you can,” you quipped as you slipped on his sweatpants. “I’m sure you’ve checked me out at some point.”

He sucked in the side of his cheek sharply. “It’s not the same. And, besides…” He trailed off.

You smoothed out the front and tightened the strings. Jungkook reluctantly brought his gaze back to you, checking you out. You tugged your blouse out of the pants a bit to give the two disharmonious pieces more balance. You filled out the top of his pants a bit more because of your ass. The whole ensemble was a little odd, but only if one looked too closely.

He frowned. “Why do you look good?”

“It’s the heels,” you absentmindedly replied. “Besides, what?”

For a moment, you thought Jungkook wasn’t going to respond. But then his eyes raised, locking to yours determinedly. “If I can make it to a month, then…” He faltered before regaining his composure. “No, I will make it to a month. And all the rest. But when you see how serious I am, then… Then I want you to seriously consider me.”

Now it was your turn to avert your eyes. You didn’t say anything for a few seconds. Guilt settled as you realized that he was more intuitive than you gave him credit for. But you came back to him, eventually. His dark brown orbs lit up as you spoke.

“Sure.”

-

In a surprising turn of events, Jeon Jungkook actually greeted you with a breathless, “Hey,” for once when you answered his call, only to follow that up with, “The fuckin’ gym is closed, fuck.”

You blinked at your phone, put it on speaker, and tucked it into one of your upper kitchen cabinets to prop it up. It was not a video call. However, your hands were currently occupied. “I’m sorry,” you replied dryly, turning down the vent fan.

“Ugh, I really needed it today,” he grumbled, mostly at himself rather than at you. You heard the sounds of traffic and the white noise of wind. “And it’s cold tonight, hmph.”

You mentally calculated the day as you picked up the plate and tongs again. “Why was it closed? It’s not a holiday as far as I know.”

“I dunno. Note on the door said family emergency, so I guess I’ll find out later from the manager,” he said absentmindedly. It was a bit weird that Jungkook was treating this like small talk when he almost never called. You weren’t sure what you were supposed to do or say about his predicament, so you began to place the slices of meat onto the hot pan, which immediately began loudly sizzling with popping oil. It must have picked up on the microphone. You heard a startled noise and then, “Whatchu doing?”

“Making dinner. And meal prepping at the same time, since I’m already cooking,” you replied, nudging the slices to fit all the meat in. Hm. Wouldn’t be the first time. Hm.

“What are you making?” He was sounding a bit too eager.

“Braised vegetables and pan-fried samgyeopsal,” you answered, reminding yourself to check under the lid. The bok choy and enoki mushrooms were just barely done. You quickly removed it from the heat before returning it the sizzling pork belly.

“Ugh.” He sounded jealous. “I’m jealous.” Guess he was. You found yourself smiling and quickly stopped, lightly adding a little flaky salt before starting the process of turning them over. You might die from a heart attack but not without a full belly of pork belly. “You’ve made me hungry. Maybe I’ll go get some ice cream.”

You mused. “Gym closed, so ice cream on a cool night is the solution?” The edges of pork belly were becoming that sweet golden caramel. Your kitchen was becoming decadently fragrant.

“This night is shit, anyway,” Jungkook complained. “I’d come over but you’d kick me out.”

You paused at his words. Then you busied yourself with taking the plate to the sink while raising your voice so he could hear you. “I didn’t kick you out last time.”

There was a short muteness that your both mutually agreed on before he sighed dramatically. “Fine, fine. I’ll go home without the ice cream.”

You tutted. “I’m not the food police. Go get your ice cream if you want to.” You began to portion out the vegetables into the glass tupperware that you had already lined up.

“Nah,” he muttered. He really enjoyed this seesaw, huh. To be honest, you didn’t mind it. Maybe calling it fun too out of line, but. “I shouldn’t go into the convenience store, anyway. I don’t wanna break my streak.”

Only stubbornness could solidify self-restraint, it seemed. You checked the pork belly. It was done, so you turned off the fire and began to plate up your soon-to-be and future meals. Took less time because you had boiled the samgyeopsal first to keep the meat tender, removed it before it was completely cooked through, sliced it, and then pan-fried to completion. You plated the last of the vegetables, added the final helping of pork belly, and drizzled a bit of soybean paste on top. A small part of you wanted to take a photo and send it to Jungkook. Rub it in, perhaps. You picked up your phone and opened the camera app.

“Hey.”

“Uh?”

You filled the photo space with a close-up shot of your simple meal and sent it to him. “Check your messages.”

There was a scuffle and Jungkook grunted before gasping and then bringing his phone back to his ear. “Hey, fuck you.”

You couldn’t help it. You laughed.

“Man… You suck.” He didn’t know the half of it. He was mumbling a tantrum on the street. “Ugh, now I’m so hungry... And mad. I’m mad at you.”

In between tee-hees and bites of your dinner, you placed your phone onto the counter. “If you buy me lunch, I’ll let you have one of mine,” you joked. Mmm, the meat was cooked just right. You mentally patted yourself on the back.

“No… I can’t do that,” he grumbled, taking your joke seriously. He scoffed. “Instead, I’ll bring a steak and make you cook it for me.”

“Steak?” You considered his suggestion. “Sure, I can cook steak.”

“Hah, see, you won’t – wait…” You heard a sputter and what sounded like a tumble. Or maybe the beginnings of one caught in the middle. He did have good reflexes. “O… Oh.” He sounded winded. “I thought you were… Thought you were gonna refuse.”

You nibbled on some delicious enoki mushroom. “Why?” You knew full well why. Just wanted to make him squirm. Also, him thinking you couldn’t cook a steak annoyed you. As if you didn’t know the value of medium rare. Hmph.

“A-Ah… Well.” He coughed and promptly changed the subject as embarrassed people do. “Are you eating right now?”

“Mhm,” you hummed. “It’s very tasty. I did a good job.”

You could him suck in an inhale of childish disappointment. “I’m suffering here.”

“No one is asking you to.”

“Hmmmm, I don’t like this.” And yet he stayed on the line. It sounded like he was jogging the streets. Maybe trying to arrive home faster and keep his body temperature up.

You imagined it. Then you told yourself to stop that. “Do you have something to eat at home?”

“There’s probably something,” Jungkook puffed. “Probably not as good, but I’ve got freezer stuff. I can cook, though,” he insisted.

You hadn’t questioned it. But you did now. “Hm, really?” You half-smiled in between bites of bok choy.

“Yes, really.” Very adamant. “Someday,” he added, in the tone of someday proving it.

You remembered the last time he was in your kitchen. The last time he was in your apartment. You looked down to the cropped black t-shirt and the familiar charcoal sweatpants you were wearing. The scene was set. Still, it didn’t clarify how to feel about it. Answers were usually simple. Believing them was a different story. He called your name. Without thinking, you answered right away.

“Mhm?”

“I’m home,” Jungkook grunted.

Maybe you supposed to pop confetti. You let it go and asked, “Less angry about your lack of gym time?”

“Not really.” But he did sound less stressed somehow. Maybe it was the cardio of the jog. “I guess I gotta find something to eat now. Lemme put you on speaker.”

The number of times he could have hung up increased. And yet he hadn’t done so yet. You were almost finished eating. You could have ended the call right now. Said you were busy and done your chores without further distraction. It just didn’t feel right. That said enough. Well, at the very least, you thought you should accompany him on his food adventure.

He exclaimed loudly. “Ah! I found some corn ice cream at the bottom of my freezer! Nice!”

Your palm made contact with your forehead. “I guess you must be the gods’ lucky one,” you mused, mopping up your last bite. Time to clear the kitchen. Sad.

“You know it,” he cheered.

You heard him ripping open the plastic with gusto. Would have sounded cocky if it wasn’t for his barely audible happy noises. You began to tidy up the kitchen to distract yourself. Putting away spices, collecting the various cooking utensils into the sink, wiping down counters, putting the lids on the now cooled-down meals. You stacked them in the fridge. You didn’t try to hide what you were doing but, then again, Jungkook was seemingly too mesmerized by his ice cream to speak. Amidst your domestic tasks, you saw the parallels of being in the same place in your respective apartments, both together and apart at the same time with only a thread of technology connecting each other, and you glanced at your phone screen, wondering if he had hung up on you. The call was still active.

Such a mundane existence.

And yet.

You stood by your sink, the washing up the last to do, and you abandoned it to stand by your phone. It seemed so… annoying to have simple enjoyments taken away by complicated thoughts. Maybe there was a better word for it. But that wasn’t the point. The point was that you were listening to Jungkook enjoying his small happiness of the day and wondered if he intentionally or unintentionally shared it with you. Wondered if the intention even mattered in the face of what was.

You broke the relative silence. “When do you want me to cook that steak for you?”

The faint sound of licking lips. He must have scooted closer to his phone, because the volume of his words was louder than the sounds from earlier. “Uh…” You waited. “I think my one month of no cigarettes is coming up soon. Maybe then…?” He trailed off awkwardly.

The crumpled pack was still on your nightstand next to your lighter. You hadn’t touched either. They were collectively collecting dust. You opened your mouth, reconsidered, and then said what was on your mind.

“I never hated you just because you smoked.”

Maybe it was better that you couldn’t see each other. “Yeah, but…” He let out a breath. “It was the reason why you didn’t want to be around me.”

You couldn’t deny it.

“I get it, though,” Jungkook muttered softly. “I didn’t really want to be around myself either. Maybe I haven’t had any great failures, but… That means I haven’t had a chance to grow from hardships. Coasting, sort of. I need to push myself to be better, because I’m definitely not where I’m supposed to be.”

Your eyes raised which caused you to realize you had dipped your head. You wondered who put those thoughts in his head, but the answer was all around you. In the subtext of conversation of strangers, friends, family.

“It’s weird,” he continued, maybe forgetting you could hear him slurp in between words or because his ice cream was rapidly melting. “I was talking to a friend about you and he asked me if you ever needed anything from me, ever.” He sucked in a breath. “Tch. I kinda hate that, but also it made me realize… Isn’t that the most natural I’ve ever been with anyone? No expectations… Maybe even negative.” He laughed a little, and you could imagine him shaking his head. “Is this how you want to spend your life? No. I want to be someone that you might need someday.”

You didn’t say anything about him talking about you to other people. It was slightly funny of him to think of you as an enigma when you felt that you were so simple, really. Maybe that made you the root of his complicated thoughts. Maybe not. He was right in that you did your best to not depend on others, even going out of you way to not need others. Not expecting anything from them to not be disappointed. You didn’t see that changing anytime soon, but, an exception?

All rules had them.

“I’m looking forward to making you that steak,” you chuckled. “I need to finish up the dishes, so I’ll let you go. For now.”

“A-Ah…” Jungkook cleared his throat. “Okay. S… See ya.”

You half-smiled. Even though he couldn’t see it, you were sure that he could hear it in your tone. “You will,” and you ended the call.

-

You found a small package addressed to you in your mailbox. No return address, no postage, but it had relatively neat handwriting that seemed familiar somehow. You tucked the soliciting letters under your arm as you re-locked your postage box. The packaging was brown paper. You turned it over in your hand.

For your collection. Jeon Jungkook.

You almost snorted. He could have. But he didn’t. You suddenly felt odd, so you quickly walked back to your apartment, shouldering your mail and your work bag, fitting the small package into your palm. The mail room was on the ground floor. You went up the flights of stairs to the far-left unit. Unlocked your front door and went in, using your shoulder to push it open.

You closed the door behind you before you opened the brown-paper wrapped parcel.

The outside packaging unfurled. Tissue paper and a bit of foam. Something told you he didn’t pack this. This was the work of the elderly who sold it to him. Smooth steel. But you felt something on the side against your palm. You turned the disc around. It was one of those snap-close clay art mirrors. The kind delicately handmade by a practiced artisan’s hands. You ran your finger over it, entranced by the ridges and matte texture. The focal point was the gradient of orange depicting tiger lilies. The background was black, making the small imagery stand out.

Tiger lilies, huh.

You opened the pocket mirror and saw your bewildered expression staring back at you. Your initial compulsion was to look away. Your intrusive thoughts interrupted, asking you if you really hated what you saw. You looked and your reflection looked back. You lifted the mirror slightly, inspecting your makeup. You barely wore any to just barely get away with it at work. It still looked good.

You half-smiled.

“You’re so fucking full of it, Jeon Jungkook,” you chuckled, tucking the mirror into the pocket of your work bag before going about the rest of your night.

-

He was quite excited for steak day until you made him speechless.

“U-uh, hey! Ahem. Hey. I have the steaks. You didn’t say if I should bring vegetables, so I also got cabbage, carrots, shitake mushrooms, I didn’t know, I guessed, sorry, and I can help cook if you need someone to watch the vegetables while, uh, I can chop or clean or anything at all… um, why are you dressed like t-that…?”

If it was his plan to greet cool, calm, and collected, he failed. You opened your apartment door to gum-chewing, wide-eyed, rambling Jeon Jungkook wearing a baggy but heavyweight white button-up and dark blue jeans with white contrast stitching. Black belt with a bright gold buckle. The hem of the jeans draped well over his black laced boots. His black leather jacket was jammed in the crook of his elbow with the groceries. His jacket had silver zippers, which didn’t match his belt. The button-up was done all the way up to his neck, which didn’t suit him.

You let him go on his rant and tried not to smile.

The situation was not exactly funny. It was obvious that he was out-of-sorts by the frantic way he was gnawing on his gum like his life depended on it. You had to wait for him to take a breath. He was too far gone in his speech for you to interrupt him. You almost dared to call it adorable. Didn’t because that wasn’t part of your image even though clearly Jungkook had completely broke the image he wanted to craft for himself over his entire time of knowing you. For his sake, you pretended nothing was amiss. You simply took the groceries from his hands while saying, “Change of plans.”

His jaw was slack. You could see the pink wad of gum stuck to his molars. Lovely. “E-Eh?”

You noticed his black hair looked a little messy and windswept. It was longer now, too, giving him an unintentional rockstar vibe. Thankfully his brain was too preoccupied with being unable to catch up to the moment to notice you noticing him. You backed up into your apartment to place the bags on your kitchen counter, busying yourself with putting everything into your refrigerator.

“I want to take you somewhere,” you said to the shelves of your fridge, clearing out space. Oh, wow. He really did buy high-grade steak. Two of them. And a giant head of cabbage. “I don’t like carrots,” you commented. “But I’ll make them for you and you can take home the rest.”

He sputtered with the elegance of a caught bluefin tuna. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t – T-Take me somewhere?”

In the middle of placing the last thing, the bundle of carrots, into the fridge, you said it.

“Yes. I want to take you on a date.”

To be honest, you weren’t sure if it would come out as confidently as you heard yourself, but there was no going back now. You had debated before this day had come, turning over the tiger lily pocket mirror in your hand at night. Debated if the unwillingness was worth it and decided it wasn’t. You weren’t sure if Jungkook was thinking the same thing you were, but then he showed up. Over-dressed. Vibrating with nervous energy. Talking too fast. One look at him and you knew. You could think you had all the time in the world, but it wasn’t true. You turned around to see Jungkook’s dumbfounded expression at the entrance of your apartment and you knew.

Despite never believing in anything and thinking everything was going to shit, well, you might as well go down with a feeling of a life well-lived.

“A d… date…?”

You closed the door of your refrigerator. “A date. You’ve heard of those, haven’t you?”

He looked like he hadn’t. “I… uh… Yes?” You had meant the light jab to bring Jungkook back to Earth but both of you were currently stuck on cloud nine. “Is that why you…?” His hand raised and made a vague gesture.

Your own hand raised to smooth back your hair from your bare shoulder. “Ah. Yes.” Since your closet was mostly made up of comfy, work, and concert outfits – in that order – that amount of classy date pieces were slightly nonexistent. You had one black dress made of a slinky soft ribbed texture that was what you ended up wearing. It reached the floor, which suited the night climate of this time of year. The rest of it was quite sexy, though. The fabric made the dress cling to and accentuate your curves. The straight neckline and thin straps were maybe too flattering. Jungkook’s eyes were certainly wandering to the general area of your collarbones. You usually wore this dress in a very specific way, which you intended to do so tonight, but it couldn’t hurt to let him admire.

Yeah.

Admire was definitely the word.

Just like how you were letting him admire you walking up to him, sending him into a mild panic, knowing exactly what you were doing but trying not to think about it, instead focusing on what had been bugging you ever since you had seen it. “This… I’m sorry, but this doesn’t suit you,” you muttered, unfastening the first few buttons of the shirt and shaking it out to a more relaxed collar. He smelled good. Oh, wow, he smelled very good. Bergamot and cedarwood, it seemed. “It looked too stuffy.” You noticed the thin gold chain underneath. Oh. Perhaps the unintentional mixing of gold and silver was intentional after all. You righted the chain so it was more visible, his warm skin under your cool fingertips, and maybe you were imagining it or was that a shiver between you and him at the contact?

Your hands awkwardly hovered over his chest.

It was hard to look up but you made yourself do it.

Jungkook seemed startled but at the very least thawed from the initial shock. “O-Oh, but…” Surely he was not staring at your cleavage. Surely. You might have put it right in his line of vision, but, surely. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “It’s c-cold outside. At least…”

It was certainly an exaggeration to call it slow-motion, and yet somehow that was the only way to describe it because now you were the one frozen in extended seconds as he tumbled his leather jacket into his palm, grabbing it by the collar and lifting it up, up and to his left hand, flaring it out with a loud flap before draping worn-in warmth over your shoulders. The sudden weight caused you to tilt forward lightly. Your open palms pressed against his chest to steady yourself. His hands stayed on your shoulders. Both of you were staring at each other for too long.

At least no one was here to record it.

He spoke first. ‘I, uh, I took a lot of my clothes to professional cleaners,” Jungkook said quietly. “Since… It gives me a good reason to not… It cost a lot.” His ears were probably as red as yours.

You inhaled, raising your chest, and noticed how new the leather smelled despite him owning it for a while now. Your faint smile was now inevitable. “I really appreciate it,” and you did. He didn’t have to, and he did.

The light in his eyes must have been your imagination. “R… Really?” Or maybe not. He was breathless and there was no obvious cause for it.

Never in wildest dreams and insomniac nights and daytime silence full of running thoughts could you have created this present time where you felt that you saw him and he saw you. From all the gray haze moments of the past to those bright uncertain days of small happiness in the future, you knew you could do it alone, but, for once, it seemed unbearable to do so.

You leaned up and kissed him.

Your eyes had closed as you tilted your head to close the distance. Maybe you should have considered seeing his surprise. Maybe you were too nervous to. It was only a simple press of lips-to-lips. Still, you found respite. A strange tingle shot through you as you felt Jungkook kiss you back. Somehow, you felt his relief of you taking charge of a moment that he had wanted to happen for a long time.

After a savored moment, both of you broke apart.

Afraid to overstep. Slightly shocked that that just happened. You snuck a peek. It was impossible to not call him adorable and thankfully you were too high off the moment to say anything. He caught your eye. You let him, gracing him a coy curve of your lips.

His cheeks bloomed pink. “Y-You… You wanna wear my jacket?”

You lightly shook your head, reaching up to touch the back of his hand. “You’ll be cold. I was going to wear a sweater over my dress,” you explained. His expression fell a little bit despite your logic. “But I wanted to wait to see what colors you were wearing so that I could choose something that pairs well. It would be nice to match somewhat, right?” Immediately Jungkook perked up again.

It was just a damn hot pot date. Why were you both grinning like idiots? The world never did make any sense, hmph.

-

In spite of best efforts, you dozed off on his shoulder.

Dinner had been a little bit awkward. Not so awkward it was unpleasant, but enough where you had to pull yourself together to bring him back to his usual self. You wore a fluffy, thick, cropped white sweater over your black dress, giving you some much needed warmth for the cool night and giving Jungkook back his sanity. Then you took it away by hooking your arm into his, holding onto him as you both rode the train in thoughtless silence. The hot pot restaurant had newly opened and was packed with curious customers. In a stroke of luck, the host managed to find seating due to your small party size. After a brief explanation, you made a beeline for the lineup of ingredients. It had taken a mountain of vegetables, shrimp, and fishcakes on a plate to break Jungkook out of his trance.

“W-Woah! You eat that much?”

You had tilted your head. “We’re sharing. Duh.”

A flash of annoyance. “How do you know what I like to eat?”

“What don’t you like to eat?” you countered.

Jungkook puffed a cheek. “That’s not the point!”

It wasn’t the most deep of conversations. Still, it did bring you both some peace to know that you hadn’t lost what you already had. There was always that fear and it was good to know that the fear was unfounded.

“I only want one egg.”

He spoke over you, “Too bad, you’re getting two,” using one hand to crack another to poach in your boiling bone broth. You made a face at him as you mixed minced onions and garlic into your chili oil, sesame oil, and soy sauce combination. He waved a third egg at you threateningly. You were adversely terrified. He became distracted by your concoction. “Let me try.”

“No. I’ll make you your own.”

“We’re sharing.”

“There are limits,” and you promptly walked off to do just that. For his credit, he didn’t snatch your hard work. Might have been because his food wasn’t finished cooking yet. Semantics. “It’s my treat, by the way.”

Irrtation was going to permanently furrow his brows if he wasn’t careful. “I don’t need your charity. Besides, you’re hurting my pride as a man.”

You cried for him. “Boo hoo.” Sarcastically.

“You’re not paying.”

“You wanna fight?”

His dark eyes narrowed. “Kinda if you keep this up.”

You pretended to lift your sweater.

Jungkook almost threw himself over the two boiling pots of broth. “Gah! What do you think you’re doing?!” He tried not to yell, hissing low between his teeth. “You’re crazy!”

“Putting you in your place,” you answered dryly.

His expression was between flabbergasted and aghast. “D-Don’t do that!”

Not the deepest of conversations. You smiled. He noticed, and looked away quickly, his ears turning pink as he busied himself ordering plates of meat. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to cook the steaks like you had originally promised. It would have made a great first date, even. And yet. Yet, you didn’t want to, because for some reason following the original plan felt symbolic of something ending instead of a beginning. You were confident in your cooking, and still the possibility of even the slightest failure made it so that you couldn’t relax. Maybe it was selfish to drag out a promise. Nothing about Jungkook’s demeanor indicated he was against it, though.

“What?”

You blinked, realizing you had zoned out in his direction. “Nothing. Just…” He frowned. You almost wanted to ask him if he was disappointed by this turn of events. He was already shoving a plateful of thinly-sliced flat iron steak into his hot pot. “Just realized we’re only here now because of a cigarette and a lighter.”

His eyes cast downward. “I’m sor–” he began.

“Who knew a bad decision could turn into such a good one.”

Jungkook snapped his head back up, surprised. You gave him an impassive expression complete with a raised eyebrow. The corners of his lips tugged upwards. He tried to hide it. He wasn’t as good at it as you were.

“Yeah. I guess…”

He sounded a little too happy for that lukewarm response. You reached into your bag, pulling out a pocket mirror to needlessly check your makeup. He noticed the tiger lilies nestled in your palm and positively beamed. You did your best to wipe your stupid smile off your face and clipped it closed to resume the meal. The rest of the dinner was similar. Well, largely focused on how many plates of shabu-shabu meat both of you could consume to make the restaurant regret seating you. At the very least, Jungkook had been impressed with your gall.

Points gained there, heh.

So, now, in spite of best efforts, Jungkook leaned his head against yours and dozed off with you on your sofa, curled up under the same blanket he had used to sleep over some nights ago. Sleep came a little too easily with full bellies. He had asked if he could sit down for a bit before heading back to his place. Because, you know, it wasn’t good if he became drowsy while driving his motorcycle. You had shrugged, casually, turning on your television to whatever late-night show was on to provide some form of mild entertainment. Distraction, really, so neither of you felt pressure to talk.

Turned out, falling asleep told you more than any conversation.

It might have been the food. The comfort of the blanket. Someone familiar being there. Whatever the cause, the stars aligned and you knew what it meant. One instance of sleep arriving quickly did not mean that you would never have a restless night again. It did not mean everything was different. But it did mean that what was already there wasn’t a lie. You thought you had done enough to spite him, but best efforts were useless in a wake of loud, hard-headed, brash Jeon Jungkook. It shouldn’t work. You were reclusive, blunt, guarded. An unfathomable match, and yet you could never seem to shake him. Apparently his fondness for you was so strong that continued meetings were inevitable. The prospect of the next time had become a regular instance. Monotone days were suddenly saturated with unexpected melodies. You kept telling yourself there was nothing else better to do than to put up with his antics.

There had been no real reason for you to believe that he would change.

He just did so he could define his own ideal of worthy.

Unconsciously, Jungkook was sinking into the cease of the sofa, into dreamlessness, taking you down with him into the cushions. You dozed practically on top of him, unknowingly nestling into his waning embrace. If you had your wits about yourself, you might have given him more conspicuous space, but he was so warm that you forgot that you didn’t typically like physical touch. Or maybe you didn’t mind as much because you knew deep down that he liked it. It was a small sacrifice for his happiness. Something like that. Ah. Right. Anyway, eventually you awoke to no-context ruckus on the television screen. Annoyed, you pawed for the remote on the coffee table and blindly turned it off. You wouldn’t have even bothered to open your eyes except for the fact that you were clearly on top on Jungkook, oh, and so you blinked slowly, line of vision shifting, realizing he wasn’t asleep.

He was pretending to be.

You placed a hand on his chest. One of his eyes cracked open. You raised an eyebrow. He almost jumped out of his skin. Probably not expecting you to be staring at him.

“Were you watching?” you asked.

“N-Not really…” Discomfort laced into his expression. “Um… You’re on my left knee a little weird.”

You shifted quickly. “Sorry.”

Relief. “No, uh, I fucked it up a bit while boxing a couple days ago,” Jungkook sighed. You could feel his inhale through your hand on his chest that you still hadn’t removed. “Think I hit it at a weird angle.”

You pointed out the obvious. “You’re not supposed to use your legs in boxing.”

He sent you the gift of a classic eye-roll complete with the bow of a scowl. “I lost my balance and fell.”

You calm expression didn’t change as you added, “Bad knees are the first sign of aging.”

His dark eyes narrowed into slits. “You–”

And proceeded to grab you by the waist. You shot up instinctively, straddling his hips, and your hand on his chest slid up. His eye went wide. He froze. You froze, realizing what you were doing. His hands were loosely around your waist with his fingers flaring out over the top of your ass. You moved your hand, resting it on his shoulder. Not on the offensive but on edge. You did your best to hold his gaze while in the precarious position. He immediately apologized.

“S-Sorry.”

“No, ah…” You shook your head. “I’m sorry.” You shouldn’t have moved to choke him out just because he was horsing around yet it was hard to really know with men these days. Still, thinking of Jungkook in that way after everything he had done for you was unfair. “I’m too used to having to protect myself.”

There was a sea of regret in those dark brown orbs. “I wasn’t going to…” Hurt you, and that part was obvious. He frowned, realizing your reaction and words said what needed to be said without saying it. “I promise. I’m not like that.”

You stared into his eyes. “I know,” and you did.

His expression became determined. “No, really.” He frowned. “I can’t help–”

You cut him off. “Is that why you have a hard-on right now?”

Dead.

Silence.

The cushions of your sofa were old, causing your knees to sink in further due to the prolonged concentrated points of pressure. You looked down. He looked up. Nobody moved. You had thought about it. Maybe. Not in any deep sense so as to not set any unrealistic expectations. He had very clearly thought about it if the rising tent of your dress in between your legs was any indication. You weren’t able to fully sit down on his crotch due to space constraints, but, even with jeans on, the distance down there was dwindling.

In short, Jungkook was obviously packin’.

You raised your eyebrows. He grimaced. He was trying not to stare at your thighs spread over him or how easily your waist fit in his hands. “Listen… Uh.” Brave of him to break the silence. “I… I’m not a disgraceful kinda guy, okay? I wasn’t planning anything. And I’m seriously serious.” His voice deepened as his eyes darted about. “Serious about…” His gaze lifted, navigating to yours.

Your lips parted, understanding him perfectly well.

However, your dress was stretching too uncomfortably. Distracted, you broke eye contact, reaching down to yank the hem from under your knee while extending your other leg to the ground to maintain balance. The fabric bunched up to your hips, draping over his lower body. You felt the friction of his jeans against your bare inner thighs. Then, you felt the friction in his jeans pressing up in between your legs.

Well.

That would be the expected result, huh.

Jungkook was beside himself. “W-W-What are you do–”

You raised your head. He stiffened. Everywhere. He was still holding you by the waist. Time was moving too fast and too slow at the same time, much like whatever this was. You made eye contact, diving into those wide eyes, searching for something to be afraid of. The scariest thing about all this was how readily he matched up with your intent to cross all the lines.

“Do you wanna kiss me?” you asked him.

His voice quivered. More out of poorly contained excitement rather than anxiousness.

“Are you crazy? Of course I wanna fuckin’ kiss you.”

There was no good reason for care-about-nothing you and caring-too-much Jeon Jungkook should match up well, and yet perhaps that was precisely the reason these puzzle pieces fit together. He lifted his torso from the sofa far too easily, meeting you halfway. With one hand on the back of the sofa and the other on his chest, your lips brushed against his. Inhale, and his warm citrusy cologne mixed with his natural scent filled your lungs. He tilted his head, closing the distance. There was no pressure of a good first kiss as it was already over with. He pulled you closer.

A kiss was not particularly special, but everything about him was.

Terrifying.

As the saying went, you felt the fear and did it anyway.

Lips to lips, electric. Your fingertips gliding over his skin, spreading the button placket before descending, unraveling him like a flower, your tongue tracing the edge of his lips. His breath hitched. His hands on your waist tighter, turning, and you adjusted accordingly, letting him sit back against the sofa with you on his lap. His fingers slid under your sweater, fanning over your back like unraveling petals as you unbuttoned his shirt, drinking in his gasps. Sinking deeper. He tugged your sweater upwards and you released him for a moment to lift your arms, arching your spine, shedding the white onto the floor. His hands on the small of your back lifted you in return, and you arrived to the view of his own white shirt barely clinging onto his shoulders, revealing tan skin and his hard work at the gym.

Your eyes trailed upwards and Jungkook hesitantly smiled, uncertain of what you were thinking.

You dipped your head and licked up his chest.

“Whoa, wha–aah, f-fuck…”

Perhaps this was a strange thought but you felt this compulsion to taste his skin. You pushed his head back and crossed his neck with kisses. Teeth. Tongue. You felt his fingertips press into your back, his hips rise, a moan bubble up in his chest. He tried to speak between gasps, his hands sliding down to your ass as you licked up to his jaw, intoxicated by the taste of his skin.

“I didn’t r-realize… o-oh…”

You flicked his earrings with the tip of your tongue, dissipating your breath so it was whisper soft against his jaw. “Deep down, you knew there was more under this surface,” you murmured and as you said it you thought of black water but the reality was reflected all over the walls, in small snapshots of mirrors from older and modern times. Yes, a mirror was the more apt imagery. Your tongue coiled around his ear, whispering his name low and slow. “You don’t like it?”

“I didn’t think you were crazy…” Jungkook gasped. He pressed you down onto his lap, hiking your dress up further. An exhale drifted past your ear. “I didn’t say I didn’t l-like it…”

With a single finger, you turned his head to face you. Half-moon eyes hazy with lust. He ticked his head, putting on the bad boy front you always knew was a front, and you rocked your hips against his to create the rhythm. He sucked in a breath, your name on the tip of his tongue, and you placed your lips against his temple to ensure that he could feel every word as much as he could hear it.

“No matter who came before you, I hope you outmatch them all.”

He viewed you from his periphery.

You smiled in a dangerous way.

There was the briefest moment where he mirrored your smirk and then he lowered his head, catching you off guard with his lips against your pulse. By instinct, your fingers laced into his black hair, tilting your head to give him more access. Your eyes wandered among the walls. In smoked glass. In craved frames. From every angle, snapshots of Jungkook kissing down your neck and you pulling the straps of your dress aside, pressing his head downwards. His lips over your collarbones created an intricate network of pinpointed pleasure, blossoming, overlapping, your nerves singing. You hooked a finger down the center of the neckline, dragging it to a risqué level. His warm breath washed over your skin.

Anticipation on a knife’s edge.

You gazed down through the shadows of your lashes. He was watching you through his own. Wondering without words. So many times Jungkook had asked for a light to ignite his addiction. You saw the writing on the wall before he did.

You tugged the top of your dress downward.

“Fuck…”

You fanned your hands over your ribs pushing your bare breasts upward. Little did he know there was a shelf bra in the dress. Probably didn’t care. He clenched his jaw and frowned slightly, his cock throbbing from below. You could feel it because you were sitting on it.

“It’s annoying that you know how hot you are. Stop knowing how to act hot too.”

You wondered if he ever looked in a mirror. “That’s rich coming from a guy that works out to make his chest big.”

He pressed his lips together before grumbling, “So…?”

You lifted you body and put your tits right in front of his face. He tried to throw you off as his lips made contact, but then was immediately distracted with the taste, running his tongue over your nipple with a moan. Strong hands on your waist again. Your own hand slid down the crown of his head, sliding in between the collar of his shirt and his shoulder muscles, caressing them as you felt sparks from his light sucking. He kissed across your chest to access the other and you breathed out, electric and erotic, your nails turning inward.

His groan was gravelly, rough from pleasure.

“Ugh, fuck, scratch me.”

You dug your nails inward and he whined into your chest, sucking harder, flicking his tongue against your nipple. You moaned to the ceiling, arching your back, and now both of your hands were on his shoulders, creating a crisscross pattern of pink under his shirt collar. There was no rhyme or reason, only instinct. Jungkook growled, taking a swift moment to yank his arms out of his shirt before pawing at your hands to explore more, touch more, repaying you with divine lips and tongue. Either he liked pain or he loved pain. Hm. You had your opinions but you kept them to yourself.

You laced your fingers into his hair, arching your back. He extended his tongue and instead of him licking upwards, you curved your body downwards, only losing contact when it was physically impossible. You lowered your head slowly. Your tongue traced your lips. He was breathing in shallow, perfumed breaths tainted with your taste. Pupils dilated. Under the influence.

You stared into his dark eyes. “You can still stop.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, right. I was in it before you were.”

He wasn’t wrong. Time moved too fast and too slow at the same time. You slid off his lap, gripping the side of your dress and pushing them down your hips. He rose, entranced, and you backed up, out of the way of the coffee table. In the room of mirrors – the living room – clothes began to slide to the floor one by one. Your tousling of his black hair had made it gone rogue, draping over his eyes as he tugged the back of his shirt out of his pants and let it fall. You took another step back while reaching forward, pulling apart his belt buckle. He glanced down as he was tugged forward. With one eye on you, he pulled the strap from the pin. You held the buckle. Pulled. He guided the black leather to smooth exit. For a few moments, you had him by the leash of his belt, dragging him into the bedroom.

Wouldn’t be the first time.

From the look on his face, he remembered.

You held onto the belt after it made its escape, twirling it around in your hand. Jungkook’s dark eyes narrowed. “Don’t.” You didn’t say anything and that was more alarming. “Do not even think about it,” he warned, his tone becoming lower, gruff. You smiled. You flicked your wrist and he halted.

You coiled the black leather around your thigh.

Tightened it by crossing the ends.

Oh, he was looking now.

“Don’t what?” you taunted, turning as you reached the end of the bed. Instead of lifting your knee to the edge of the mattress, you gripped the crossed straps of his belt and hoisted your leg upwards, adding a little bounce of your ass as you looked over your shoulder.

He didn’t expect the showmanship. His mouth squeaked out an, “Are you serious?”

Muscles, tattoos, and he still didn’t know what to do with all that. Your other hand grazed the curve of your ass to the hem of your seamless panties, hooking a finger over the edge and tugging it towards the center dip.

“Okay, fuck, you’re gonna make me bust in my damn jeans,” Jungkook muttered, looking annoyed at the tent in his pants. His hand was already undoing the button. You smiled, releasing your leg, walking over to the nightstand by the bed. The box of unused cigarettes was still there along with your lighter. You only glanced at them, dropping his belt to the side and opening the drawer, pulling out a string of condoms.

Turned around and Jungkook shot you a disbelieving look with his cock sticking out of his pants. Still in his boxer briefs, so obviously hard that he was past the open zipper. You didn’t back down, approaching him with his death sentence dangling from your fingers.

He tried not to seem flustered. “You’re busy, huh?”

You stopped in front of him, tilting in your head. “Busy waiting for you to make a move.”

He sucked the inside of his cheek. “Tch. Am I supposed to believe that?”

“You tell me.”

You sat down on the bed, placing the condoms within easy reach. Crossed your legs. Stared into his eyes, daring him to believe that you were lying. You saw bite his lip. Looking you up and down, so you did the same, watching him shove his jeans down further. You ticked your head.

“Or maybe just don’t fall for my tricks, hm?”

And you fell back onto the bed, lifting your legs, reaching under. Put your weight on your shoulders while you hooked your fingers onto the sides of your panties, pulling up, up, slipping one leg out. Then the other. Flicked your wrist and sent it flying. Then you spread your legs to reveal his stunned face.

You pulled a condom oof the line and held it out to him.

He looked uneasy, stepping out of his jeans and kicking them away. “Uh… You sure?” He tried to sound calm but his voice was shaking. He was trying to flip it on you.

You smiled. Casually. “I give you permission to find out.”

This did not ease Jungkook’s worries. He was too busy to staring at your pussy to formulate any more sentences, though. He took the condom from your hand, pushing down his black underwear. You looked. He saw you look. Confirmed that he didn’t work out because he was lacking in his pants, that was for sure. Your gaze went back to his face. He didn’t know what to think about your reaction, because you purposefully didn’t have one.

Instead of speaking, you reached down in between your legs and spread your wet lips.

Lowering your lashes. Slow smirk. Jungkook sucked in a breath and ripped open the condom. His underwear was sliding down his legs, but you were too busy being fixated on the way his arms moved, carefully rolling down the condom as he watched your fingertips trace your slit, drawing circles around your clit. The heat turned into wetness. He moved closer. You curled a leg around his hip. He put a hand on your thigh, positioning himself over you. Made eye contact. You looked back curiously, spreading the upper lips of your slick pussy.

He slid the bottom of the slick head against your clit and made you both moan from the contact.

Rubbed, slowly. Your insides throbbed with need. The lubrication made it even better. You pulled your hand back and tipped your hips upwards, and then he slid in. He gasped, his inhale catching in his throat. The hand on your leg tensed. You pressed your calf into his ass, pushing him deeper.

“F-Fuck, what–”

Your expression must have indicated that you were going to shove him in yourself, because Jungkook took one panicked glance at your face and thrust in, loudly swearing. He shut his eyes but you caught a peek of them rolling upwards as you dreamily sighed from the feeling of fullness, squeezing all around to feel more, the pressure becoming pleasure.

“You can move.” Just in case he wasn’t sure.

“Shut up,” Jungkook snapped back, shifting his hand to grab your thigh, yanking you into his crotch. He cut off his own moan by clenching his jaw. You smiled. Sweetly. He glared as viciously as he could, which wasn’t much, and thrust hard enough to make you both gasp. He was resisting from commenting about your tightness. “Stop smirking at me like that.”

You tested fate.

“Make me.”

The light was playing tricks. Or maybe his hair was casting shadows over his darkened gaze. Or perhaps this was possession of passion that made him lean down. Locked gazes. He covered your mouth with his free hand. You let him, waiting to see where this would go. He began to move. Slow, deep, building the heat between your joined bodies. Staring into your eyes, and you stared back, clenching your core to increase the unfurling bliss, so damn good, watching his lashes lower, his lips parting, heated breath drifting out like invisible smoke. You raised your hips to meet him, moaning into his palm. He bit the edge of his lower lip, the tiny mole centered underneath suddenly visible.

Your tongue traced his fingers, dripping saliva.

He spread them, entranced by the way you thrust your wet muscle in time with his hips, coiling towards the small finger tattoos you knew he had. Jungkook swore under his breath, gripping your thigh harder, but he wasn’t reaching the force you both craved. With reluctance, he removed his hand from your open mouth, watching the charming curl of your tongue disappearing in between your lips before gripping your other hip with his wet hand, cocking an eyebrow at you.

You reached back and grabbed fistfuls of your duvet, bracing yourself with an open-mouthed smirk.

He thrust hard and you rose to meet him. Both of you cried out at the radiating smack of force between bodies. Nothing for show. Just pure raw lust, chasing the high, giving into the lust. Heat into tension. Your back arched. He pulled you to him. You squeezed him all around. With each loud slap you felt pleasure ripple through your body, making your breasts bounce to his rhythm, and you let out a soft moan, sensing the ripple turning into a cascade, your insides tightening, closing your eyes once the vicious throb overtook your hips, drowning in orgasm.

“Oh, fuck–”

Jungkook didn’t even get to choke out his surprise before his own orgasm hit him. You felt his fingers dig in, snapping your bodies together. His drawn-out groan became the sonata to the punctuated sensation of inescapable euphoria. Wet. Hot. You gasped at a jolt of ecstasy rattling in your ribs. You felt his cock jerk inside you as his hold on you lessened, switching to kneading your thighs. Your brain was so hazy that his touch seemed to amplify the addictive heat, your legs closing in, keeping him in place.

“Could’ve… fuckin’ warned me…”

He panted hard, squeezing your ass roughly. You didn’t care. It was hard to when his slip to his Busan dialect was so attractive. You reveled in the bliss for a moment longer before lowering your legs, realizing the source of the heat was Jungkook whose body seemed to be ten thousand degrees. He pushed back his hair, revealing his glistening brow and cheekbones. Gasping for breath. He pulled out before stripping off the condom with a hiss.

“What am I supposed to do with–”

You sat up, using your elbows to lift your body. It was harder than you thought because the aftermath of tension had left a residual tremble throughout your nerves, but you ignored it, living on determination alone. Jungkook started, not expecting you to move so quickly. You didn’t give him time to react, reaching down between your bodies.

“A-Ah, don’t…!”

He stuttered, gasped, then moaned, his eyes rolling back into his head. Slippery. Hot. Covered in lube and cum and now your fingers wrapping around his length, finding him half-hard. You gave him almost no pressure but all contact, glossing over the shaft until his cock swelled in your hand, ghosting over the head with your palm. He bit back a yelp, not yet opening his eyes, almost whining. His reaction drove you, sliding forward a bit to the very edge of the mattress. He held his breath. Snuck a peek. You angled your body to expose more of your inner thigh and lifted him.

His eyes widened.

You sandwiched his cock in between your palm and your inner thigh, sliding your body back and forth to stimulate him. He inhaled sharply, shooting you a look of indignation, and yet his hips began moving anyway. You gradually increased the pressure. His head tipped back, groaning to the ceiling, becoming harder and harder with each stroke.

You reached over to the condoms and held them out.

Jungkook lowered his head. “Seriously?”

You lifted your hand from his pulsing, wet cock. “Saying you don’t want to?”

“I didn’t say that,” he retorted.

You pulled one off. He handed you the used condom. There was maybe a second and then he gave back the empty foil wrapper in which you tucked the used one into, folding it carefully so there was no spillage. It wouldn’t take long, anyway.

Part of you wanted to say that, but you held your tongue.

Hands on the back of your thighs, lifting your legs. Jungkook pinned your knees to your chest and slid back in, lowly growling, “How the fuck are you so tight,” but you were too enveloped in the sensations, wet and hard and your inner muscles closing in, molding to the shaft. The swollen head hit that depth you could really feel, and you sighed, lifting your hips. His hands slid off your legs and hit the bed, sandwiching you in between the bed and his hard chest.

Your eyes locked with Jungkook’s.

It was intense, rough, carnal. You forgot your surroundings, clutching the duvet and his tattooed forearm, matching each slap of your bodies with a breathless gasp, your calves on his shoulders, his erratic breath melting into shuddering moans. You were moving up the bed little by little from the force. Your name slipped from his lips. Your pussy clenched involuntarily and then the rapid thunderous pulse overtook your senses. He lasted a little longer this time after your orgasm, but not much longer, succumbing to the vicious call, burying his entire length inside you and gritting his teeth to muffle his moan in his chest.

It should have ended there.

You could barely breathe. Suffocating from your own thighs. After an erotic, elated eternity, Jungkook lifted his upper body, gasping apologies. You could barely hear them, orgasm still ringing in your ears, having to relax your muscles one by one. The bed was a mess. Duvet bunched up. Condom wrappers garnishing the ground. Clothes all over the floor. Your legs crossed, sliding down. Jungkook was standing somehow and you could tell that even he thought that was a miracle. He offered a hand. You took it, letting him shakily pull you up to your feet.

His breath washed over your cheek.

You looked up at him. His dark orbs shifted towards you. Waning. You tilted your head. Half-moons. Lips to lips. You drank in his exhale, kissing him deeply. Still electrified. Hands all over, igniting fire over skin. His lower body bumped up against your thigh. Slippery hardness pressing into softness. The scent of sex clung between you and him. You reached down. Touching him. Stroking his cock with your fingertips while kissing him. You felt his hand snake between your legs, sliding two fingers into you. One by one, your fingers closed in. He stroked your clit before thrusting his fingers back in, swallowing your moan into his throat. You began to slide your hand up and down. The combination of lube and cum delivered that delicious friction that he was looking for. At this point, the fervor was so intense that the pace was fierce, fast, a contest of who could get each other off faster while in lip-lock.

You shoved your tongue into his mouth.

Jungkook sucked on it, pushing a third finger into your soaked pussy, all the way up to his knuckles. You welcomed it, working his entire length, jacking him off tight and harsh, and all of a sudden he let go if your tongue, gasping with a pinched moan, his hips jerking forward. Hot spurts of milky white shot down your inner thigh. Not much, but definitely enough to witness and feel. Something inside you snapped and you had to grab his shoulder to avoid falling over, your nails digging in a halo as your pussy spasmed, sucking in his fingers with a wet squelch, your legs snapping closed to extend the feeling. Breathless moan against his ear. You leaned against him with your juices leaking down your legs and sticking to his fingers.

Delicious.

Satisfyingly ragged. Blood pumping. Both of your bodies burning, or at least yours was and his chest was alarmingly sweaty. You slowly untangled your hands from each other but they lingered low, suddenly realizing how much needed to be cleaned up.

“Uh…” Jungkook panted. “I’ll help…”

He better. “Yeah. We should, hah, clean up.” Your tongue traced your lips. “Then sleep.”

“I didn’t bring clothes,” he mumbled distractedly.

You lifted yourself from his shoulder. “I still have your sweatpants,” you reminded him.

His dark eyes slid towards you. He tried to frown. His eyes were too eager and sparkly for that. “Oh. Yeah…”

“You can go home if you want,” you offered while naked and with his cum sticking to your thigh.

He sucked on the inside of his cheek sharply. “You can’t say sleep over and then take it back.”

“Then take it in the first place.”

“I was gonna,” Jungkook snapped, and grabbed your arm, pulling you in for another kiss.

-

“Did you mean it?”

The room was relatively clean now. The trash was appropriately in the trash. The clothes had been lumped into an ambiguous pile on your dresser. Teeth had been brushed. You had set aside a spare toothbrush for his use only. Seemed appropriate. He was not wearing his sweatpants. Turned out that was not his preferred way to sleep. It wasn’t yours either. He was only in his boxer briefs and you were only in your panties. Your bodies were now minus each other’s bodily fluids.

“Mean what?”

You tried to yank the duvet into a more acceptable orientation before climbing in. After a pause, Jungkook lifted the other side and tried his best to settle in.

“That you were waiting for me to make a move.”

Tried his best because he seemed to be distracted by the conversation. You adjusted your pillow and nestled in a section of the duvet that was not that close but not too far away either. It was a king-sized one for a queen bed. Plenty of sharable coverage. You didn’t interfere with his routine and he didn’t with yours. You took the time to think.

“Hm.” It wasn’t wholly true after all. “I didn’t know if you were going to make a move or not.” He snorted under his breath but you ignored it to finish speaking. “After the first time you stayed over… It was more that I figured being prepared was better than not being prepared.”

“That’s…” He sounded uneasy.

“I can’t live hoping for something that might or might not happen,” you said without facing him.

He seemed annoyed. “Why not?”

You pointed out the obvious. “I don’t think you should change your life only to appeal to me. You should do it for yourself.”

“Well, I did,” Jungkook grumbled. He cocooned himself in a good chunk of your duvet. That was the tell of a blanket stealer. You would have to keep an eye on him. “I quit for you. It was always you. It’s happened already, so accept it.”

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

He grunted. “Just like how I shouldn’t have started smoking in the first place. Guess that’s the kind of shitty guy I am.”

Silence.

He wasn’t facing you. You were looking up at the ceiling. Closed your eyes because there weren’t any promises up there. The promises were always next to you. He seemed cold, but you knew better. He didn’t know how to be a cold person. He tried his best and it was a constant failure.

“Aren’t you happy you broke that people-pleasing of yours?” you asked softly.

There was a short, reluctant pause before he muttered, “You’re a butt.”

You burst out laughing. Big, muscly, tattooed man curled up in bed with you retorting with a child’s insult was too funny. Jungkook growled, rolling over to shake your shoulder with contained fury. You kept laughing even when he gave up and took the pillow out from under him, repeatedly bopping your torso and legs with it. There was no strength behind it. Plenty of salt, though. You opened your eyes mid-snicker and looked over to him. His arm was extended over to you. His black hair was all over the place. He shook his head like a Doberman and scrunched up his face. Frowning. On the verge of a pout, really. He could have looked madder. He would never make it as an actor. Your laughter died out.

“You were gonna totally back off if I didn’t have condoms?” you teased.

He looked exasperated. “Seriously? I’m not some untrained dog who hasn’t eaten in days! You… There’s plenty of other choices we have! I’m a good guy!”

You smiled. “I know.”

He immediately stopped protesting. It was as if all the fight drained out of him. There was a whole universe in those big dark brown eyes. And then it occurred to you that, back then, Jungkook could never quite meet your eyes even though he was always looking your way. Every day came with a dark night. He would ask you, got a light, and you would hold up the flame, shining light into those dark eyes when he used to lean in.

It was strange, then, to see the light that was there when now his eyes locked with yours.

No lighter required.

“You really tried to pass off as a bad guy. Almost fooled me, even.”

His eyes narrowed into slits. “Ugh, fuck you.”

“You did,” you quipped.

Jungkook flung the pillow behind him and scooted alarmingly close. You instinctively tried to move out of the way but there was no more bed to escape to. His strong arms wrapped around your shoulders and dragged you back to him, threatening you with, “Shut up. I’m hugging you.”

You failed to listen. Classic. “I didn’t ask to be hugged.”

There was a foreign tingling feeling that raced all over your skin. Not from the physical closeness, but from the other kind of closeness. You felt your shoulder bump against his firm chest. He even threw his leg over your hip and yanked your legs closer, cocooning you with his frame. You almost thought he was trying to extend the night.

Instead, he simply latched onto you like a barnacle.

“I don’t care. I’m a bad guy. Hmph.”

Quiet.

You placed your hand on his forearm just under your breasts. This was going to become very hot and sweaty in the long run. But you let it be. You didn’t want to let go either, even though you weren’t exactly doing the holding on. You used your other hand to drag the duvet back up under your chin. He didn’t stop you. You felt him squeeze you a little tighter once you were comfortable, as if to confirm. You patted his arm.

“Your hand is too hot,” he complained in a mumble by your ear.

“That sucks,” you said and didn’t move it. He didn’t try to shrug you off either. “I’ll make your steak tomorrow.”

He pretended to gnaw on your shoulder. “We can’t have steak for breakfast.”

“Why not? We’re adults.”

“That isn’t what adults do.”

“Then I give up on being an adult.”

“Me too,” he huffed. He perched his chin by your head. “Alright, I’m down.”

You debated on telling him. Telling him why you purchased the lighter in the first place. Even before him, it constantly stayed in your pocket. It only came out on the darkest nights when the insomnia was the worst. A flame and a human life followed the same trajectory. At night was when the flame danced the brightest. You would watch the flame dance. Contemplated. Extinguished it. You even did your due diligence of refilling it when it was low. When Jeon Jungkook appeared in your life, you ignited the flame for him without much thought. That was, after all, the intended use the lighter. It made sense to use it as such. You found yourself reaching for it less because, well, what if you ran into him? He would always ask and you would always provide. When he had handed you his barely-used pack and said he was done, you too gradually began to leave the lighter behind. The two objects had begun to collect dust night after night. Untouched. Originally your lighter wasn’t for him, and yet.

That small flame had led him to you.

The universe planned well.

“Hey, Jungkook?”

“Uuh?” He sounded very sleepy and not quite conscious.

“My lighter was for you, after all.”

“Mmmm…” He nestled closer and squeezed your arm. “That’s good.”

You smiled as he drifted off to sleep. He still snored, although less intensely. His grip on you relaxed but was no less meaningful. Slowly, the exhaustion caught up to you, and you went willingly, following Jeon Jungkook’s path to dreams. You would have to get used to this new routine of the night.

--

masterpost

[rafecameronssl4t]

How about Pope/JJ having a crush on Topper’s younger sister which is also Rafe’s girl and him making sure he knows his place and the fact that she’s his girl. Maybe she’s the island sweetheart and she’s nice to everyone, and sometimes she hangs out with the pogues (despite her brother and boyfriend hating that) and Rafe noticed how the boy looks at her and decides to put on a little show to prove she’s his girl 🫣🥹

Get in losers, we’re going shopping || Rafe Cameron x Thornton!reader

A/n: This was so fun to write thank u for the request 🫶

Warnings: swearing, suggestive, possesive/jealous!rafe, if there’s anything else lmk

Word count: 1,837

MASTERLIST (rafe x thornton!reader au masterlist)

Divider by @yoonitos

mood board

As you drive along, a smile creeps across your face when you notice JJ and Pope walking on the side of the road. You slow your car, matching their pace, which causes them to exchange puzzled glances before coming to a halt.

Rolling down your window, you lift your sunglasses, locking eyes with the two boys. Their confusion quickly shifts to recognition, and a mix of surprise and curiosity spreads across their faces.

“Hey boys,” you greet them with a smile. “Oh—hey, y/n,” Pope stammers, making you giggle. “This your new car?” JJ asks, patting the sleek Porsche. You hum in response, “want a ride?” you offer sweetly.

The boys exchange a quick glance before sprinting to the passenger side, shoving each other. In the end, Pope manages to snag the seat, and you laugh at their antics.

“I’ll sugar momma you guys today,” you wink at them, moving the stick into gear. They grin widely, and you drive off, the engine purring smoothly. “So, where are we—” Pope starts, but he’s cut off by the sound of your phone ringing. Rafe’s name flashes on the display, and the boys visibly tense up, their smiles fading as discomfort sets in.

“Hi, Rafe,” you say, your voice carrying a mix of warmth and caution. “Hi baby, whatcha doin’? Thought I might come over to yours in a few minutes, gotta see Top for something too” Rafe’s voice fills the car, a smooth and confident drawl.

“I’m out right now, and I won’t be home for a bit,” you reply, tapping your finger against the steering wheel. The boys sit in tense silence, trying to act nonchalant but clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. The cheerful energy from earlier is all but gone, replaced by a palpable tension that hangs in the air.

It’s silent on the other end before Rafe speaks up again. “Right, where—where are you right now? You with anyone?” he stutters, his tone shifting to one of suspicion. Pope’s eyes widen, and he freaks out. “I don’t think we should be here right now,” he mutters under his breath. Eyes wide, you slap a hand over his mouth. “Shut up, dude!” JJ whisper-yells, trying to keep his voice low. You throw JJ a look that clearly says he isn’t helping.

Hearing the voices, Rafe stands up from his seat, his eyebrows furrowed. “Who was that?” he questions sharply. You glance at the boys, feeling the weight of the situation.“Uh, I’m just with Pope and JJ,” you quietly admit, bracing yourself for Rafe’s reaction.

There’s a brief, tense silence on the other end of the line, and you can almost hear Rafe’s jaw clench. You know how your boyfriend feels about you hanging out with them, and the tension in the car thickens as you wait for his response.

“Are you serious right now? How many times have I told you I don’t want you hangin’ around with them?” He angrily says. You roll your eyes, already feeling the annoyance building. “Rafe, I’m not having this conversation with you right now, okay?” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady.

“No. We’re having this conversation right now. Does Topper even know you’re hanging out with those Pogues?” Rafe snaps back, his tone leaving no room for argument. You let out a frustrated sigh, glancing at Pope and JJ, who look increasingly uncomfortable.

“Rafe, not right now. I’m hanging up, okay? Hanging up right now—” you begin, but Rafe interjects, “Don’t you dare—”Before he can finish his sentence, you press end call. The car falls into an uneasy silence as Pope and JJ sit there quietly, processing what just happened.

“Uhm, so that just happened,” Pope says, staring out at the road in front of him as you chuckle. “I’m so sorry you guys had to hear that,” You apologetically say, biting your bottom lip anxiously, “Nah, don’t even worry about it,” JJ reassures you as you smile at him through the rearview mirror. “Do you guys wanna get some gelato? I’m craving some right now,” You offer as you turn into the main road of Kildare.

~

Opening the door to your house, you pause for a moment as your eyes fall on Topper and Rafe lounging on the sofa. Topper is scrolling through his phone, barely glancing up at your entrance, while Rafe reclines with a smug look on his face.

“Where have you been?” Topper asks, his gaze still fixed on his phone. You hesitate, glancing at Rafe, whose smirk only deepens. “Uh, did Rafe not tell you?” you ask, your voice tinged with confusion since you for sure thought that he would tell your brother who shared the same disdain towards JJ and Pope.

Rafe raises an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the discomfort he’s causing. “Tell him what?” he says innocently, leaning back further into the cushions. “Oh, nothing. I was just hanging out with my friends,” You say as you slip off your sandals, Topper giving you and Rafe a suspicious look.

“Yeah, okay. How’s your new car, by the way? Have you scratched it yet? Cause if you did, you know Mom and Dad will throw a fit,” Topper says casually, his tone laced with a hint of sarcasm. You roll your eyes, feeling the familiar sting of his passive-aggressiveness. Without responding, you turn to leave the room.

Rafe gets up from the sofa and follows behind you, his expression unreadable. “How does my little sister end up with a Porsche for her first car anyway? It’s fuckin’ unfair,” Topper’s voice jeered from the adjacent room, his tone laced with mockery. “Shut up, Topper!” you retorted, frustration seeping into your voice as Rafe let out a soft, amused snort.

“What are you doing here, by the way?” you ask Rafe who shuts your door behind him as you set your shopping bags down on the ground. “Can I not see my girlfriend?” he says with a playful smirk, his eyes dancing with mischief as he lounges comfortably on your bed.

You pause, studying his expression for any hint of underlying motive. “I just thought you wouldn’t wait for me after I told you who I was hanging out with,” you say cautiously, carefully avoiding mentioning JJ or Pope by name.

Rafe’s response is nonchalant, almost dismissive. He simply shrugs, as if your concerns are of little importance to him. “Don’t care,” he replies coolly, his tone betraying no trace of emotion. You lean against your window, raising an eyebrow at his nonchalance. “Really?” you say, not quite believing him.

He hums, his expression unchanged. “Yeah, really.” You slowly nod, still feeling a bit skeptical. “You coming to the party tonight, right?” Rafe speaks up, breaking the tension as you throw your new clothes into your hamper. “I didn’t even know there was a party tonight, but sure,” you shrug, before collapsing on top of Rafe, who exaggerates a loud groan in response, playfully protesting your weight.

~

Getting out of the car, you could already feel the curious stares people were giving your way as Topper and Rafe walked up behind you. The beach was buzzing with activity, and you took in the scene, noting the mix of familiar and unfamiliar faces.

Scanning the crowd, you quickly spot JJ and Pope hanging out with a few others near the bonfire. They notice you and wave enthusiastically. A smile spreads across your face as you lift your hand, ready to wave back, but before you can, Rafe grabs your hand firmly.

“C’mon, let’s get some drinks,” he mutters against your ear, his breath warm on your skin. His tone is casual, but the grip on your hand leaves little room for argument. You glance back at JJ and Pope, who are now watching the interaction closely, their expressions shifting to concern.

Reluctantly, you let Rafe guide you towards the makeshift bar set up on the sand. Topper falls into step beside you, his presence adding to the tension. “Here,” Rafe passes you a drink as you gratefully take it.

“What are you looking at?” you ask, staring at Rafe’s side profile. He turns to you, his eyes narrowing slightly as he pulls you closer. “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” he mutters, his tone trying to sound reassuring but tinged with irritation.

Following his earlier line of sight, you glance over and spot JJ and Pope. They’re laughing with a group of friends, seemingly unaware of Rafe’s intense gaze moments ago. Your stomach tightens as you realize he’s been watching them.

Rafe’s grip on you tightens ever so slightly, a subtle reminder of his possessive nature. You look back at him, trying to gauge his mood, but his expression is a mask of casual indifference. The contrast between his actions and his words leaves you feeling uneasy,

“Let’s go,” Rafe suddenly stands up, grabbing your hand abruptly, “What?” As soon as Rafe is standing up with you following along, you hear the whistles and low muttering of people. “Everyone shut the hell up!” Topper groans, watching his little sister and bestfriend walk off.

“Rafe, where are we going?” you ask, glancing back at the crowd, feeling the weight of their stares and the palpable tension in the air. “Shh, it’s fine, we’re just going back to your car,” Rafe says, pulling you closer. He leans in to kiss you, and you feel his smirk against your lips. His hands begin to wander, moving further down your back, his touch both familiar and possessive.

“Rafe,” you pull back slightly, your voice tinged with concern. “It’s fine, yeah? Please?” He looks at you with a familiar intensity, his eyes pleading yet commanding. It’s a look you know all too well, one that mixes affection with an undercurrent of control.

Playfully rolling your eyes, you unlock the car and gently push him before settling down on his lap. His arms wrap around you tightly, holding you close with an almost possessive firmness. You can feel the strength in his grip, the way he presses you against him, as if asserting his claim over you.

“You’re mine, y’know that, right?” he mutters against your neck, his breath warm and slightly ragged. “Mhm, I know that,” you mumble, your hands running through his hair. His fingers dig into your waist, drawing you even closer. His scent, a mix of cologne and the salty sea air, envelops you, creating an intoxicating mix of comfort and confinement.

You tilt your head slightly, allowing him better access to your neck as he continues to murmur possessive reassurances.

~

“Y/n?” You lift your head just as you finish zipping up your shorts. “Hey—” The greeting dies on your lips when you find yourself face to face with JJ. “What are you doing here?” you ask, awkwardly chuckling and smoothing down your hair. The sound of Rafe exiting the car behind you adds to the tension.

JJ’s eyes trace your appearance before flicking behind you to Rafe. “We were just about to, uh, leave,” he says, scratching his head. You nod awkwardly. “Hey, Y/n,” Pope greets as he joins the scene, sensing the uncomfortable vibe. You manage a smile at him. “Hi—” you start, but your words falter as Rafe steps up beside you, still buttoning his shirt. JJ and Pope stand there awkwardly, waiting, while Rafe ignores their presence.

“Did you guys have fun?” you ask, attempting to lighten the mood. Rafe finally looks up, a smirk playing on his lips as he glances at the boys. “Yeah, yeah, it was fun, I guess,” Pope replies hesitantly. JJ’s pained smile shifts between you and Rafe. “You guys sure did, huh?”

Rafe snorts at JJ’s comment, prompting you to slap his chest lightly. There was awkward silence before you speak up, “Did you guys want a lift back?” you offer.

Before they can respond, Rafe interjects, “Baby, you’ve had a few drinks already. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”JJ rolls his eyes at Rafe. “It’s fine, we’ll find our own way home,” Pope says, his smile tinged with sadness. You nod slowly.

“Yeah, you do that,” Rafe says dismissively, pulling you back towards the group. “Come on, babe.” You glance back at JJ and Pope one last time, mouthing a silent apology as they briefly wave goodbye. The expressions on their faces stay with you—a mix of disappointment and hurt that you can’t shake off.

[ellabscrush]

— fucking you behind the screen.

thinking about getting pounded by your gamer girlfriend’s strap while unmuted..

pairings; gamer!ellie williams x reader

cw; men and minors don’t interact, making out, strap use, breeding kink, agoraphilia, r uses “daddy” to ellie once, language, dom!ellie, sub!reader.

ways you can help, boycott, do not support neil.

“jesse the fuck was that?” ellie laughs at the guy behind the mic when he missed the shot.

“dina, get him!” she shouted, “fuck yeah!”

your girlfriends excessive cursing and yelling across the room made you snap out of your phone while scrolling on tiktok, wondering if she was about to break her setup right about now.

it was mid winter and the apartment was freezing so you threw on a zip up over your top underneath, feeling the warm athmosphere disappearing from your body as you walked out your room.

“holy shit els, it’s freezing” you said shivering tensely towards the living room, but she didn’t hear you.

“took out your friend.. fucking cunt.”

not gonna lie, her little frustrated grunts and insults were very attractive, you thought. you stared at her hands switching in between buttons, her eyes glued on the screen showing her focus, manspreading enough room for you to eat her out down there.. she looked too good.

you plopped yourself on to the couch, loud enough to make her turn over, pausing her activity. she sets down her headphones and took a long look at you.

she lays back on her chair, “hey you,” she sighs.

“you almost done?” you asked, desperate for some attention.

“almost,” she replies, “this game is pissing me off anyway.”

you smiled, having a silent moment between the two of you. there was a familiar tension, but unsure wether you should go along. ellie kept scanning you up and down like she hadn’t seen you in forever, technically she hadn’t since she’d been playing all day.

“you need somethin?” you asked with confused expression.

“do i look like i need something?” she teased, licking her lips.

you shrugged, shyly looking down as you we’re hiding the redness forming in your face. you couldn’t act normal around her when she looked this good, i mean she always looks good. you soon got up from the couch, walking towards your girlfriend, giving her a long wet kiss.

“you should take this off” she insisted while tugging at your zipper, her tone switching making you go insane.

ellie, being her clumsy self, didn’t mute.

“get a room!” jesse and dina yells from the speaker, unaware the two could listen to you both smothering eachother.

“shut up,” she pulls down the mic, “i’ll get on soon.”

you burried yourself in the crook of her neck from embarrassment and laughed. she pulled you in for a deeper kiss, pulling up your one thigh and the other on to her lap.

“can we make this quick?” ellie asks making you confused, “take this shit off,” she demanded quietly, making sure her friends doesn’t hear.

“just mute it ellie,” you giggled in between the kisses.

she lets out another smirk, this time having an idea behind it.

she whispers in your ear that made you shiver a bit hearing her talk in such a dirty way as she fills you in on her plan. contemplating her genius yet scary idea, you couldn’t help but feel the adrenaline rushing up on you. it turned you on and so you agreed.

“suck.”

ellie puts her middle and ring finger in your wet mouth, prepping it with your saliva before it goes in you. she turns her chair towards her pc, leaving a bit of room for you.

“stream your screen,” she speaks into the mic, “i’ll just watch you both from here.”

a few minutes later, her strap was going in and out behind you, making you cry just trying to keep your moans in. back arched and both hands on the rim of the table infront of you as ellie make your stomach turn.

“shh, can’t let them hear you now.”

“mmph.. so deep..” you whimpered.

at this point you were barely clothed, nipples poking through the see through, thin fabric of your bra. ellie gropping your perky tits as hard as she wanted, you were hers. she could do whatever she wanted.

her hips moving faster and faster, holding yourself up with just two grips on her white desk. her praises for keeping quiet were not helping, it made you even louder.

“you look so slutty right now,” she basically drooled, “asking to get fucked under that jacket?”

“y-yes” you say quietly, “fuck daddy.”

the name made ellie flustered. her hand grabbing your jaw while your mouth was hanging open dry, she stared at the long silicone disappearing inside of you.

“ellie- i cant-“ you squeeled as you tried reaching her arms, begging for some gentleness.

“yes you can,” she whispers in your ear, “be a good girl and let me fuck you in secret, okay?”

you didn’t say anything, you couldn’t, so you just nodded. ellie kissed down your neck to your shoulder as a reward for listening, being a good girl just for her.

“gonna fuckin’ breed you..” ellie muttered in your ear, “being s-such a good mama for me.”

it started getting rough, more than before. the image in your head of what you two looked like right now, or even getting caught by her friends made you more horny. your body started shuttering and the familiar feeling of pleasure in your thighs took over.

“please baby..” you moaned trying to keep your composure.

“faster?” she asked knowing the answer, “yeah i know you want it faster, love.”

your girlfriend started pounding you like crazy while firmly gripping your swollen ass.

“perfect fucking ass sucking it in.. godd.”

the little action figures on the desk falling, table hitting the wall, making you realize how loud you two were being.

“mm ellie too much..” you whined, “please slow down!”

suddenly, she couldn’t take your begging anymore. as much as she loved hearing you, she had to shut you up. her hands quickly covered your mouth, “quit talking,” she growled.

“you have to keep it down, can you do that?” she raises her eyebrow while making eye contact with you, basically making this harder for you purposely.

“answer my fucking question. do you want me to stop?”

“no.. els no,” was all you could mumble out, “fuckk”

that last moan alerted the two on the other side of the screen, luckily ellie saved it.

“yo ellie you good?” jesse asks, “uh yeah! just bumped my knee.”

“idiot,” he laughed.

that was close. your quick taps on her hand covering your mouth lured her attention back on you, begging with teary eyes to cum. ellie was full in lust looking at you being a needy whore bent over.

she took the palm of he hand out and put her thumb in your mouth while continuing to pound you hard. your mumbled words were frustrating her, “words baby, words.”

she pushes you back towards her chest, “need your cum..” you begged looking up at her, “fuck me please.”

with that, your wishes came true as she railed you deep and faster. making you reach your climax with every thrust coming in and out of your hole.

“ellie!-“

“shut it,” she covers your mouth again aggressively, slapping your ass with one free hand. the gesture secretly making you more close to orgasming.

“that’s my slut getting fucked behind for everyone to hear.”

you couldn’t help yourself but moaned, not even caring who could hear you at this point.

“yeah?” ellie mocks, “like it that much?”

you nodded. your girlfriend feeling better right about now for letting her take it all out on you over a game.

“i’m fucking cumming.. holy shit,” you pant out of breath, feeling the turns in your stomach and liquid dripping down your thighs.

“i’m gonna cum in you, baby” ellie groaned, “make you.. all mine.”

“yes cum in me oh my god!”

she grabs your shoulders, “take my fucking dick.. f-fuck.”

ellie swore she could feel you, seeing the white ring forming on the strap made her smile just knowing no one else could fuck you this good.

“i love breeding you baby.. fill you up with that warm.. sticky cum, yeah?” ellie continues to please you as you ride out her strap, “goodd girl.. it’s okay mama.”

“els i’m shaking,” you whined, “no more..”

“you did good baby.”

don’t worry, she was actually muted this time.

[pathologicalreid]

gemini | S.R.

two emotionally wrought people collide at a wedding, and a sexual escapade ensues.

part two

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: softdom!spencer, use of the term "good girl" (i couldn't help myself), unprotected sex, reader on bc, alcohol, spoilers for 14x15 truth or dare, lowkey idiots in love, fucking against a wall?, fingering, heavy petting, r has an oral fixation, r is wearing a dress and makeup, explicit consent (hot), public sex, i think that's all word count: 3.42k a/n: this is a little self-indulgent and i don't care! based on literally just the first line of the song gemini by del water gap. probably not ever gonna get a part two. i've never done angsty smut (smangst?) before, so this was fun.

so, here's the setting, we met fucked up at a wedding

Swirling the drink you held in your hand, you watched your friends as they chatted. The pink liquid in the cup, concocted by Penelope Garcia, was far too sweet for your taste, but you needed the liquid courage to make it through the wedding.

It wasn’t that you weren’t happy for Krystall and Dave. It was that weddings oftentimes left a bitter taste in your mouth – one so bitter that not even Penelope’s drink could offset it.

In your periphery, you saw a blur of purple in the corner, looking up to see Spencer. His hand still bandaged from his most recent brush with death, he used his free one to grip a glass of water. Raising your eyebrows, you gave him your best attempt at a smile before you greeted him, “You look good, Dr. Reid.”

He was fully donned in his favorite color, and you tried to pretend that you didn’t notice that your dress matched the purple hue of his suit. “Thanks,” he said shortly, not quite meeting your eyes.

Noting the way he was looking past you, you demurely leaned your head down, glancing over your shoulder so that you could see what he was looking at, only to see JJ. She looked gorgeous in her red dress, laughing at something her husband said before her eyes caught something.

She was staring back at Spencer, and not for the first time, you found yourself wondering what happened in that pawn shop. Bringing your eyes back up to Reid, you watched the confused look in his eyes bloom as he peeled his eyes away from JJ.

Sick of it, you spoke up, “Alright, I had dibs on being the mopey one tonight. What’s wrong?” You had wanted to brush it off as long-lasting nerves from the hostage situation, but he was acting strange.

You knew you weren’t his best friend, that was a title that JJ had been the reigning champion of since the beginning of time. Yet, you still noticed the rigidity in Spencer’s shoulders as he displayed a clear discomfort with his surroundings. You tried to think of something to say to him. How could you ask him if he wanted to get out of here without it sounding like a sexual proposition?

“JJ told me she loved me,” he said, his voice so low you weren’t even sure you had heard him correctly.

Your head snapped up, “Oh.” Swallowing thickly, you tilted your head curiously, letting loose hair tumble to the side. “Do you love her?” Likely not the right conversation for the wedding of everyone’s favorite right-person-wrong-time couple, but you were desperate for a rope to pull yourself out of your wallowing.

He took a sip of his water before setting the empty glass on the bar counter, “I did.” The admission hit you like a ton of bricks, until her continued, “but now…”

Filling in the blanks, you shrugged, “She’s married. They have kids.” Spencer was always doing the right thing, so pushing his feelings aside for the sake of JJ’s family made the most sense.

Furrowing his brows, he pondered this for a moment before speaking, “It’s not just that. I have feelings for someone else.”

“Oh,” you repeated, and somehow the thought of him being in love with an unfamiliar figure hurt more than him being in love with your mutual friend.

The both of you let the conversation lag, watching as Penelope came back up to the bar and poured more drinks. After she accused you of being boring for not wanting another drink, everyone returned to the tables. “Have you dated anyone since him?”

You choked on your newly acquired water, cupping your hand underneath your jaw in an attempt to stop water from getting on your dress. “Uh, no. I’ve kind of sworn off dating ever since,” you replied, shaking your hand out and letting water droplets fall to the floor.

Sighing, you slouched in your seat, remembering that all you’d ever be was a jaded bride. Left by your fiancé on the day of your wedding, doomed to never love again. Until you met Spencer Reid.

“For everyone?” Spencer asked, and you cursed his natural curiosity.

His question caught you off guard. Despite yourself, you shook your head, “I have like… one person who, if they asked me, I’d say yes.” Your skin started to feel warm, and you weren’t sure if it was your proximity to him or Penelope’s drink coming back with a vengeance.

Spencer stepped a little closer to you, leaning casually on the counter as if he wasn’t affecting your ability to focus. “Who’s your person?” The question was innocent enough that it made your heart ache.

“It doesn’t matter, he’s into someone else,” you told him, reaching behind your neck to pull your hair up, haphazardly twisting it. You didn’t have a hair tie, so you let the locks fall once you felt some semblance of relief.

This statement seemingly bothered Spencer because he looked into his glass, “Did he tell you that?”

Nodding, you chewed on the inside of your lip. “Yeah,” maybe not in so many words, Spencer was rarely crass enough to say he was into someone, but you understood well enough.

The conversation lagged between the two of you once again, your own private thoughts were only interrupted when the music changed. It was a slow song, one for the couples of the night to dance to.

You took a chance, “Do you want to go explore the building with me? It’s getting stuffy in here,” you said, taking one final swig of your water before jumping up from your stool.

He looked back at JJ, who was there with Will, and then forward to the girl who was asking to take him away, “Yes.”

David Rossi had spared no expense for his second wedding to his third wife, and the manor that you found yourself meandering within felt never-ending. Something about following Spencer as he led the way and told you facts about the history of the building felt so normal, and you wondered if it would hurt when the night was over. Maybe this would just end as another memory to loathe about weddings.

Trailing him into another room, you stumbled into his back. Quickly, Spencer spun back and caught you before you could fall to the ground.

Steadying yourself, your heart thrummed at the way he was touching you, tightly holding your waist so that you wouldn’t trip. Once you were no longer wobbling, Spencer reached up and gingerly lifted the fallen spaghetti strap of your dress back over your shoulder. Before you had fully thought out your actions, you leaned up on your tip toes and kissed him.

It was hesitant and gentle, but once you registered that you were kissing him you soon realized that he was kissing you back. What started out as a small peck on the lips quickly morphed into full, open-mouthed kisses.

You thought Spencer might eat you alive, and for a moment, you thought you might let him.

Without separating your lips, he herded you over to the wall, pinning your hips to the wall as you felt heat grow between your legs.

Pulling at your bottom lip with his teeth, Spencer pulled away ever so slightly, your faces just inches apart. “Is this okay?” He asked you, his eyes flickering down to your lips like he was holding himself back from kissing you again.

There was fear. A fear that if you moved forward tonight, nothing would ever be the same, but you took a chance  and nodded quickly, “Yes.”

Your answer acted as a release as Spencer dropped his head back down and the two of you reattached your lips. Despite your attempts to ignore it, you felt his hardened length pressing into you through several layers of clothes.

Twisting your head away, you gasped as Spencer took the opportunity to place his lips on your neck, gently suckling on the tender skin as you tried to catch your breath. “Are you sure about this?” You breathed, running your hands underneath his suit jacket, wanting nothing more than to push it off of him.

“Yes,” he answered, giving you the same consent that you had already given him, and it was enough for you to reach for his belt buckle. No matter how badly you wanted to see him entirely bare in front of you, this just wasn’t the place for it.

Gently, you slid your hand down his front, savoring the way his breath hitched against your neck as your fingertips precariously lifted the waistband of his boxers. He gently nipped at your earlobe as you wrapped your hand around the base of his cock.

You let your head fall backward, allowing him better access to your neck as you moved your hand. Moving your hand up so that you could swipe your thumb over the tip.

You dragged your other hand down, pulling his boxers down so that you could get a good look at what you were working with, and biting your lip at the sight of it. Slowly, you started to pump his impressive length, noting how his breathing patterns changed with your movements.

Dragging a knuckle up the underside of him, he dropped his head to your shoulder as you collected his pre-cum on your index finger on your way up, bringing your hand up to your mouth and licking the droplet off, peering up at him.

“You’re so good at that, baby,” he told you, sighing as he reached up and placed his hand on the side of your neck, skimming his thumb over your jawline as his free hand started to make its way up your dress, pausing when he only met bare skin. “No underwear?” He questioned, furrowing his brow at you as you bit your lip, trying to refrain from pressing into his hand.

Whimpering almost indiscriminately, you shook your head, “Couldn’t, panty lines would show under the dress.”

Spencer hummed in recognition, moving his hand up to cup your sex so that you could feel your own wetness on his hand. A pathetic whine escaped your throat as your walls clenched with need, still stopping yourself from grinding on his hand. “What do you need?” He asked, a teasing lilt in his voice, “Come on, you can tell me.”

“You, please,” you answered, your voice dangerously bordering on pleading. “Your hands, anything,” you squeaked out, breathing heavily as you awaited his next move.

Gently, he slipped a finger inside your wet hole, causing you to release a satisfied sigh. “You’re so wet,” he whispered in your ear as you tilted your head back and pressed your lips to his.

As his hand picked up in pace, so did your breathing. With each movement of his hand, you struggled to keep your volume at a respectable level, small whimpers continued escaping you even as you bit down on the inside of your lip. “Spence,” you whined, moaning aloud as he slipped a second finger into you, “Oh, god.”

The silence of the room around you only exacerbated the wet sounds that were emanating from your sex, and if it didn’t feel so good, you might’ve been embarrassed. In fact, as you felt a familiar coil winding in your abdomen, you found that you didn’t have the capacity to feel anything other than pleasure.

Crying out, you nodded as Spencer continued to thrust his fingers in and out of you, “Fuck,” you said, caring less about your volume levels. Even less so when he responded by pressing the heel of his hand against your clit, the pressure proving to be enough to send you over the edge.

“It’s okay,” Spencer whispered in your ear, “Let it go for me, baby.” His words continued as you felt your walls spasming around his fingers, his ministrations had slowed, but he worked you through your orgasm before withdrawing his fingers and lifting them up to your mouth.

Accepting the invitation, you leaned forward and sucked the sweet juices off of his hand, slipping your tongue between his two fingers as you looked up at him. You half expected him to be watching you with lust-blown eyes, but he was watching you just as attentively as he had when you started this escapade.

He retrieved his fingers from your mouth with a satisfying pop and reached down to ruche the fabric of your dress up around your waist. “Wait,” he said suddenly, gripping the silky cloth, “I don’t have a condom.”

Your eyes widened and you shook your head, “I don’t mind.” Still breathing heavy from your previous orgasm, you shook your head again, “I mean. I’m on birth control – and I’m good at it. I mean I keep up with it.” Now babbling, you hoped he’d say something. “I’m clean. I trust you.”

Nodding in understanding, he placed a hand on the side of your neck and looked at you intently. “I’m not going to do anything until you catch your breath,” he told you, taking up an authoritative tone.

Blinking rapidly, you evened out your breathing as he ran his hand up and down your torso, “I’m sorry,” you whispered, taking another deep breath as you looked up at him.

Spencer shook his head, “Don’t be sorry.” He leaned his head down, pressing soft kisses down the side of your neck as you finally pushed his jacket off of his shoulders. “You’re so pretty,” he murmured, leaning down to grip the backs of your thighs.

“It’s okay if you can’t lift me,” you rambled quickly, getting his attention as you aired your concern.

He raised his eyebrows expectantly, pressing his hips into yours and lifting your feet off of the ground. The leverage that he had, along with the support of the wall behind him, allowed him to get both of your feet off of the ground. You would’ve spent more time being impressed by this feat if you weren’t so distracted by his painfully hard cock that had now slipped between your folds.

Leaning down, you desperately kissed his lips, wanting him to give you those open-mouthed kisses that you had started out with. Instead, you cried out when, without warning, his full length slipped into you.

Placing gentle kisses on your collarbone, Spencer murmured, “Are you okay?” He whispered, seeming like he was using all of his self-control to just stay still.

You nodded, feeling his cock throbbing so deep in you that you were almost afraid you’d come from just that pressure alone. “Been a while,” you murmured, taking a deep, shaky breath.

He hummed in understanding, “I’ve got you, take your time.”

His words filled your stomach with butterflies, and it wasn’t just because he was fully sheathed in you. “Spence,” you whimpered, “Move.”

On your cue, Spencer gave a tentative thrust, permitting your resulting moan to mix with his grunt. “Fuck, baby,” he said, continuing to thrust in and out of your cunt, filling the room with the crude squelching of your actions. “I’m not going to last long,” he informed you.

Throwing your head back in ecstasy, you moaned helplessly when Spencer dropped one of your legs to the ground, hooking his arm underneath your other knee, providing a new, deeper angle. You swore as the sensations started to feel overwhelming.

The new angle gave him more control over his movements, enabling him to use his free hand to pull at your breast through the fabric of your dress. As you tugged gently at his hair, you tilted your head back, “Spence, I- shit,” you cursed, recognizing the tell-tale signs of your second orgasm approaching.

If it weren’t for his words of encouragement, you would’ve been embarrassed by coming too quickly, and if anything, the words only spurred you closer to the finish line. “Come for me,” he said, thrusting harder into you as he tried to reach the same point. “Let me know how good I make you feel,” he said, continuing his thrusts until his hips stuttered.

“Coming,” you whimpered, dropping your head forward onto his shoulder as you felt your walls tightening around his hard length. Crying out as he continued to pound into you, you buried your face into his neck and nipped at the skin to muffle your sounds.

Now he was solely working toward his own orgasm, having given you two of your own. “You’re such a good girl,” he panted.

Suckling gently at the skin on his neck – not hard enough to leave a mark, you littered kisses on his sensitive skin. “Come in me, baby,” you murmured, trying to spur him on.

Your success was apparent as his movements faltered and his cock started throbbing, feeling the pulses of his cum as it filled you, your eyes rolled back at the feeling while Spencer slowed to a halt, waiting for a beat before he pulled out of you entirely.

Shuddering at the emptiness you now felt, you leaned against the wall once both of your feet were on the ground. As your legs trembled, you watched as Spencer crouched to fish something out of his jacket, leaving you with your mixture of fluids running down your legs.

As he grabbed the handkerchief from his breast pocket, you gasped slightly as you realized his intentions. “Spence, you’ll ruin it,” you insisted.

“Would you rather go back out there with my cum dripping down your thighs?” He asked, knelt in front of you with his brows raised in mock innocence.

Swallowing thickly, you shook your head, “Jesus.”

He chuckled, using the handkerchief to wipe up the mess the two of you had made on your legs before carelessly tossing it into a nearby trashcan. Noting the way your legs were still shaking, he lifted your chin ever so slightly, “Are you alright?”

Nodding, you offered him a tired, but genuine smile. “I’m great,” you told him, wiping underneath your eyes where you were sure there was a mess of mascara.

Taking your hand in his, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, Spencer led to toward the French doors that led to the balcony, taking you out into the fresh air.

As you leaned up against the railing, Spencer shook out his jacket and draped it over your shoulders, doing his best to keep you comfortable. “Hey,” you whispered, “I really am fine. Are you? How’s your hand?” In all of the hormones, you had forgotten about his injury.

Spencer nodded, looking over the property that Rossi had rented. “I’m good, Y/N. I feel good.” You wished he’d call you baby again, but maybe that was too much to ask for. His eyebrows furrowed.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked him, recognizing the look from years of working together.

He hummed, reaching up and sweeping a strand of hair off of your forehead. “That guy? The one who told you he’s into someone else? I can confidently say he’s an idiot.”

Flushing, you smiled to yourself at the fact that Spencer was calling himself an idiot, especially when he was anything but. Shrugging, you waved him off anyway, “Nobody’s perfect, Spence.”

“No, I suppose not, but even so…” he told you, allowing his voice to trail off like he wasn’t totally sure what he wanted to say to you. “If he can’t see what’s right in front of him, then maybe you need to turn your attention elsewhere.”

Sighing, you leaned your chin in your hand, “Thanks, but I don’t know. Maybe there is better out there, and I’m just not worth it.” No, after tonight, you’d likely never get over him. It might’ve started as a workplace crush, but you felt in your heart that it was now something deeper.

Spencer shook his head, “Now, that’s where we disagree.”

“Spencer, I can’t-“ Your voice is cut off when you hear someone calling your name from inside the building, smoothing out the front of your dress one more time, you step back into the room, coming face to face with JJ.

She smiles in recognition of you, but the grin immediately fades from her face when Spencer walks out behind you, “Hey, we’ve been looking for you guys,” she said flatly. “They’re about to cut the cake.”

Nodding, you took another quick look at Spencer before following the blonde out of the room, leaving your secret in the room behind you.

part two

[krosiefics]

when did you get so buff? • lee minho

M D N I 18+

Synopsis: when your best friend, Minho, arrives at your apartment drenched from the rain. What would happen if you acted on the sudden arousal of seeing the outline of his built body?

WC: 1.3k

Tags: smut, pwp, afab!reader, bsf!minho, softdom!minho, ass spanking, pet names (baby, kitten), cursing, grinding, lwk dry humping, piv, unprotected sex (plz don’t), creampie, unprepped sex, mutual pinning(?), probably forgetting something :P

a/n: this was written in like 10 mins so it’s kinda rushed lol also not proofread…this man had me in a chokehold the entire mv making video

————————————————————————

“Woah- when the fuck did you get so buff Min?” You let out a laugh of disbelief. Your best friend was on his way to your apartment when it started raining, by the time he got to your home, his jacket was soaked through, clinging to every part of his torso.

Minho looked at you and shrugged as he took off his jacket, “I dunno, I did start going to the gym with Changbin and Chan.”

“You look hot.” You said with a smirk, taking his jacket from him, leaving the room to put it in the dryer. Minho stood there with a flush on his face.

“Did she just say…I look hot?!” Minho thought to himself, his mind going a million miles an hour as his heart hammered in his chest. This wasn’t good for him, sure the two of you flirt sometimes, but he knows it’s nothing more than playful, at least on your end.

Minho placed his hand on his chest, taking deep breaths to calm his raging heart. You stroll back into the room and notice him taking deep breaths. “Hey you good?” You near him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Minho flinches slightly at your touch before melting into it.

“Yeah…I’m fine.” He gave a weak grin. “Dude, your face is super red.” You say in a worried tone, your hands cupping his red cheeks. His eyes go wide at your action, you realize and pull away, your face now heating up.

“Sorry, I- I don’t know what came over me.” You shake your head in embarrassment, you feel like your heart is about to rip through your body. “Fuck.” Minho groaned, moving to sit down on your sofa. “Don’t be sorry…it’s okay, I didn’t mind it.”

Your eyes lock with his, walking over to him almost as if you were entranced by him and he was drawing you in. You stood in front of Minho, gazing down into his pretty brown eyes, your eyes fall to the small little mole on his nose. You smile to yourself as you unconsciously trail your finger along it, down to his lips.

In an instant you’re snapped out of your daze, retracting your hand from Minho’s face. You were about to apologize before being suddenly pulled into his lap. Minho held your hips as you straddled his hips. You face heating up with each passing second. Minho leaned into, hesitantly nudging your nose with his.

Your breath hitches as his eyes shift their gaze to your lips. Unconsciously, you jolt your tongue across your lower lip, causing them to glisten. “Fuck,” you breathe out shakily, “your lips are pretty.” Before you could even process your own words, the boy in front of you pulls you in by the nape of your neck, attaching his lips to yours.

You moan into the kiss as his hands trail down towards your ass before gently squeezing at it. “Min,” you whined, a knowing feeling surged through you that you dreaded, the two of you needed to talk about what’s happening. “Shh, let’s enjoy this, then talk.” He said between kisses.

Minho’s hands made their way to the hem of your shirt, slipping them under, touching your warm skin. “Soft.” He smiled against your lips before cupping your breasts under your shirt causing you to gasp out a moan. Your hands fly to Minho’s hair as he begins peppering kisses along your neck, his hands still groping at your chest.

You roll your hips into his, Minho lets out a pleasurable sigh at the friction. His hands trail down your curves to the swell of your ass before grasping it in his palms. You groaned at the touch, both of his hands and the rolls of your hips.

Minho places a kiss on your collarbone as he lightly smacks your clothed ass. You jolt at the sudden slap but it didn’t induce too much pain.

“Min,” you sigh, fingers pulling against his hair full of need. You can feel arousal pooling, you wouldn’t be surprised if it already stained your shorts by now.

Minho sneaks his hands under the waistband of your shorts and onto your warm skin, gently pushing down your shorts while massaging the flesh there. You allow him to slip it down, shifting your legs so that you can slide the material off.

Before Minho could guide you back into his lap, you stay in your awkward lifted position, slipping out of your underwear, which you can now see has a very evident wet patch on it.

“Fuck.” Minho breathes out, his hands feeling up your curves, “You’re hot you know that?” You feel your cheeks warm at his sudden praise, shifting your head to the size so that the boy underneath you doesn’t see your blush. But of course Minho notices, he smirks pridefully to himself, tongue poking out between his teeth.

Minho brings his hand up to slap your ass again but he stops dead in his tracks as he watches intently as you work your fingers at his jeans. Minho stares at you, the way your cheeks are red, the way your hands shake slightly with excitement, the way you’re rubbing your thighs together as you finally unbutton and unzip his fly.

Minho lifts his hips, after snapping out of his daze that you put him in, allowing you to pull his pants and boxers down in one swoop. His cock freely stood against his lower abdomen, red and veiny, precum leaking at the tip, not too big but definitely above average.

Minho’s desire for you grew even more as he watched you drool over his cock, the one that you had yet to actually touch. “Come sit your pretty pussy on me, yeah kitten?” Your eyes widen at the pet name, a wave of lust rushing through your body that has your cunt clenching around nothing.

Adjusting yourself back comfortably into his lap, you take hold of his cock aligning it with your hole. You probe your throbbing cunt with the tip, an erotic mewl leaving your lips. Sounds of your mains overlapping filled the room as you finally sunk down onto his cock, fully bottoming out.

The stretch burned, it burned so much that it brought tears to your eyes, but that wasn’t about to stop you from rolling your hips down onto Minho. “Wait baby, I didn’t stretch you- just wait okay.” Minho grunts as your forehand falls against his. His hands held you still as you clenched around his cock, adjusting to his size.

“You okay now kitten?” You hastily nod, your hips twitching with neediness. Minho chuckles before guiding you off his cock before moving you back down. You both let out a groan when you start speeding up the pace of your movement.

Minho’s hands now just gripping at your waist as you bounce on his cock. The tip of his cock hits you right in your g spot causing your thighs to tremble slightly. Your orgasm grows closer and closer with each bounce.

Minho bites his lip at the sight in front of him; your lip caught between your teeth as your face scrunches up in pleasure, tits bouncing through your shirt, and your cunt taking his cock so well.

The feeling of you clenching so tightly around him drove him towards his climax.

“Fuck babe, imma cum.” Minho grunted as he bucked his hips up to meet yours. You moaned loudly at how his cock filled you deeply. Your whines begin to rise as your orgasm hits you like a truck. With the combination of you creaming all over his cock and the intense clenching of your cunt, Minho’s cock twitches as he pours his load into you with a deep groan.

“Holy shit,” You breath out shakily, “we just did that.” Minho chuckles as he lifts you enough to slip his cock out, he could feel as his cum dripped out of your cunt and onto his pelvis.

“Fuck I love you…I have for a while.” Minho pants in disbelief as he gazes into your exhausted eyes. You nuzzle your head into his neck with a smile, “I’ve loved you too Min, for a while.”

[aceyalonso]

a winners celebration - LANDO NORRIS

pairing : lando norris x best friend!reader

summary : win celebrations look a little different for lando norris this time around

warnings/notes : swearing, drinking, smut, unprotected sex (please use a condom!), overstimulation, fingering, hair pulling, oral (both!receiving), praise kink, use of "baby" and "good girl", pussydrunk!lando lowkey, 69, dacryphilia

word count : 5.3k

a/n : i miss race weekends | there's a lot more plot to this compared to the previous days

main masterlist | kinktober masterlist

September 22, 2024 - 10:36 PM

Lando was riding a high of adrenaline and joy as the checkered flag waved at the finish line, signaling his victory at the Singapore Grand Prix. His team swarmed around him, celebrating and congratulating him for the hard-earned win, but it was the person waiting in the pit stands that caught his eye.

Y/n stood there, smiling and waving, watching Lando's success. He couldn't help but grin wider, seeing his best friend's proud expression. He knew that she had been there cheering him on, supporting him every step of the way.

Lando quickly shook off the other team members, making his way over to where Y/n stood. He walked with a slight swagger, still riding the high of the race win. Once he reached his friend, he flashed a cocky smirk, before enveloping her in a tight hug.

"Told you I'd win." He murmured jokingly, pulling back to look Y/n in the eye.

Y/n laughed, returning the hug and rolling their eyes. "Yeah, yeah. You're so full of yourself." She teased playfully, punching him lightly in the arm.

Lando just chuckled, shrugging. "Hey, can you blame me? I just won the damn race. I feel like I could take on the world right now."

She chuckled at his boastful statement, shaking her head in amusement. "More like your ego could take on the world. Careful, your head might not fit through the doors anymore if it gets any bigger."

He gasped in mock offense. "Hey, my head is the perfect size, thank you very much." Lando protested jokingly, running a hand through his hair. "Besides, you love my ego and you know it."

Y/n rolled her eyes again, but couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, yeah. Your ego is just so charming, how could I resist." She replied sarcastically, pretending to swoon.

Lando looked at Y/n apologetically. "I hate to cut this short, but I gotta go give some interviews and stuff. But I'll meet you in the hotel lobby in a bit, and we'll go out and celebrate. Sound good?"

She nodded, understanding. "Yeah, no worries. Go do your press stuff." Y/n said with a smile. "I'll see you in a bit in the lobby."

Lando nodded, already turning to walk away when he suddenly stopped and turned back, a mischievous grin on his face. He leaned in, placing a quick kiss on Y/n's cheek before realizing what he'd just done.

He froze, realizing how he may have crossed a line. He quickly blurted out a "thank you" and turned away, heading off to do his interviews while leaving Y/n shocked and confused by the unexpected display of affection.

Y/n was left standing there, feeling her cheek where Lando had kissed her before walking away. They were both shocked and confused by his actions, unsure of what to make of it.

Y/n took a moment to compose herself, shaking her head to snap out of the daze and heading back to the hotel. As she walked, she couldn't stop thinking about the kiss on the cheek. Did it mean something, or was it just a spontaneous act in the heat of the moment? Y/n wasn't sure, but the thought of it made her chest flutter.

September 22, 2024 - 11:43 PM

An hour or so later, Y/n was waiting in the hotel lobby, just as they had agreed upon. She was sitting on a plush couch in the lobby, scrolling through her phone, when suddenly, they heard a familiar voice say, "Hey, there you are."

Y/n looked up from her phone to see Lando strolling toward her, looking more casual now that he wasn't in his race suit. He was wearing a simple shirt and jeans, his hair tousled and messy from the helmet. He gave her a charming grin as he approached.

"Sorry to keep you waiting. The interviews took longer than I thought they would." He said, sitting down next to Y/n on the couch.

"It's all good," Y/n replied with a smile. "At least you're free now, and we can go out and celebrate."

Lando leaned back on the couch, stretching his arms above his head. "Yeah, I'm all yours now. So, what's the plan for the night?"

Y/n stood up, a mischievous gleam in her eye. "Alright, we're going out for drinks. I know a great bar nearby that has the best cocktails. Sound good?"

Lando groaned as she grabbed his wrist, pulling him up from the couch. "Hey, can a guy get a little break after winning a Grand Prix? I just sat down." He protested jokingly, feigning resistance.

Y/n just laughed, not releasing her grip on his wrist. "Nope, no breaks. We're going out to celebrate. Come on, get up." She tugged him lightly, urging him to follow her.

Lando rolled his eyes but couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. "Fine, fine. I'll come, but only because you're practically dragging me out the door." He grumbled dramatically.

She smiled as she led Lando out of the hotel, still holding onto his wrist. "And the bar is just a few minutes walk from here, so it's not far," she said, glancing at him. "Plus, some fresh air will do you good. You probably need to clear your head from all those interviews, anyway."

Lando huffed in agreement, secretly enjoying the feeling of her holding onto him. "Yeah, the interviews were exhausting. I swear, they ask the same damn questions every time. I could give all the answers in my sleep at this point."

Y/n chuckled, giving his wrist a playful tug. "Don't get yourself too worked up. We're here to have fun tonight, remember? No thinking about interviews or racing or any of that stuff."

Lando smiled, nodding in agreement. "You're right, you're right. Tonight is all about letting loose and celebrating. No work, no racing… just us and some good drinks."

She grinned at that, and they continued walking until they reached the bar. The place was buzzing with energy, music could be heard from inside, and the neon signs above the door flickered alluringly.

Lando gazed at the bar, seeing the lively atmosphere within. "Looks like this place is popular," he commented, looking down at Y/n. "How did you even find this place, anyway?"

Y/n looked up at Lando, a smile on her lips as she answered his question. "Oh, I came here with Alexandra for a girls' night out a few months ago. It's a pretty cool spot. Good drinks and good music."

Lando raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so you've already been here? And you didn't tell me about it until now?" He feigned indignation, giving her a playful nudge with his elbow.

Y/n shrugged her shoulders, a playful smirk on her face. "Hey, it's not my fault you were partying it up in Ibiza while I was here in Singapore. You weren't exactly available for bar hopping."

Lando chuckled at that, conceding her point. "Alright, alright, fair enough. I was having a blast in Ibiza, but I guess I missed out on some good bars here in Singapore."

Y/n gave Lando a teasing smile before guiding him into the bar. The music inside was even more vibrant, the sound of laughter and conversation filling the air. They found a spot at the bar, and Y/n gestured for Lando to sit down next to her.

Lando took a seat on the barstool next to Y/n, glancing around the place. The bar was dimly lit, with colorful lights casting a warm, inviting glow over everything. People were gathered around, chatting and enjoying their drinks, adding to the lively atmosphere.

Y/n called the bartender over and ordered a cocktail for herself. Then, she turned to Lando and asked, "What do you want to drink? Something strong, or something a bit fancier?"

He contemplated for a moment, leaning against the bar. "Hmm, I'm feeling like something classic tonight. I think I'll go with a gin and tonic."

She nodded, relaying Lando's order to the bartender. "One gin and tonic for the grand prix winner, please," Y/n said with a smile. The bartender nodded and began preparing their orders.

Lando chuckled at Y/n's remark, his ego slightly boosted. "You know, I could get used to you calling me a grand prix winner." He said, a hint of pride in his voice.

Y/n chuckled and rolled her eyes at Lando's comment. "Oh, come on. This isn't your first win, Norris. You've won two races before this one, remember?"

He glanced at Y/n, a sly smile on his lips. "Yeah, but this time it's different. You were actually here to witness my win. And I must say, it felt fucking good."

Y/n smiled mischievously, deciding to tease Lando a bit. She leaned closer to him, a playful glint in her eyes. "Oh, I see what's going on here. You have such a huge crush on me, don't you?"

Lando chuckled at her remark and responded with a hint of banter, "Hey, hey, that was high school, alright? We're adults now. We've moved on and grown past all that silly crush stuff."

Y/n chuckled as well, enjoying their playful banter. "Is that so? So you're saying you don't have a crush on me anymore?" She raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile on her face.

He rolled his eyes, trying to maintain a nonchalant expression. "Yeah, yeah, I've totally moved on. No more silly crushes here." He took a sip of his gin and tonic, clearly not fooling Y/n for a second.

She just smiled, not believing him for a moment. She knew Lando well enough to know that he was just playing tough. "Uh-huh, sure you have. And the moon is made of cheese, right? And pigs can fly."

Lando huffed in mock indignation, trying to keep up his act. "Hey, I'll have you know, I'm a sophisticated man now. I don't have crushes like some high school kid. That's all in the past."

Y/n couldn't help but laugh loudly at Lando's statement. "Oh, because those flings totally prove you're over crushes and completely sophisticated now, right?" She teased with a smirk.

He rolled his eyes but couldn't help but smile at her sarcasm. "Alright, alright, fine. Maybe I've had a few flings and whatnot, but that doesn't prove anything. That's just casual stuff, not the same as having a crush."

She grinned and rolled her eyes again, amused by Lando's attempts to deny his feelings. "Oh, c'mon, finish your drink. We're here here to celebrate and let loose. Let's go out there and dance a little, shall we?"

Lando downed the rest of his gin and tonic with a smirk. "Alright, alright, you've convinced me. Let's go dance." He stood up from his barstool, offering a hand to Y/n.

Y/n took his hand with a smile and hopped off her own barstool, following Lando toward the dance floor of the bar. The music was pumping, the lights were flashing, and a group of people were already dancing on the floor.

He led her into the midst of the dance floor, finding a spot for them to dance. As the music played, they both started swaying and moving to the beat. With each step and move, their bodies would occasionally brush against each other, sending sparks of electricity through them.

She could feel her pulse quickening as she danced with Lando. Their bodies moved in sync with the music, each step bringing them closer together. The atmosphere was electrifying with Lando so close, the heat between them undeniable

Lando's fingers gently traced small circles on her hip, the touch sending shivers down her spine. The music and the people around them seemed to fade into the background as they swayed together, their eyes locked onto each other.

He couldn't resist pulling her even closer, their bodies now pressed against each other. Lando's arm wrapped around her waist, holding her in place as they continued to move to the music. Her scent, the way she felt against him, it was driving him wild.

Lando's lips, hot and needy, began to trail kisses down her neck, his grip on her waist tightening slightly. Everywhere his lips touched sent a rush of heat through her body, a small gasp escaping her lips.

His tongue darted out, tracing a path along her sensitive skin, his lips alternating between soft kisses and lingering nibbles. The sensation was maddening, her mind clouding with desire as he continued his exploration of her neck.

A soft moan escaped Y/n's lips as Lando continued his assault on her neck. Her hands clutched at the fabric of his shirt, her body arching against his. "L-Lando," she gasped softly, her voice filled with a mixture of need and desire.

Y/n's words were barely above a whisper, her voice hoarse with need. "Not here," she repeated, her cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and desire. Lando had the exact same thought running through his mind.

Lando pulled back reluctantly, his lips leaving her neck with a final lingering kiss. He looked at her, his eyes darkened with lust, taking in her flushed cheeks and the way she was gripping his shirt. He knew exactly what she meant, and the same need was burning through him.

"Let's go," Lando murmured, his voice low and rough with desire. He took her hand in his, the skin-to-skin contact sending another jolt of electricity through them.

The two of them practically sprinted out of the bar, the cool night air doing little to cool their ardor. The hotel wasn't far, but the short walk felt like an eternity as their bodies practically ached with desire.

They reached the hotel lobby, their breaths coming out in slightly ragged pants. Lando led Y/n towards the elevator, practically hitting the button to call it impatiently. As they waited, Lando turned towards Y/n, his eyes filled with a mixture of desire and need.

As the elevator doors open, Lando gently shoved Y/n into the elevator with the doors quickly closing behind them. As the elevator began to move upwards, Lando backed her against the wall of the elevator, trapping her between his body and the cold metal.

Lando wasted no time, his lips finding hers in a searing kiss. His hands came up to cup her face, holding her in place as his tongue darted out to trace the seam of her lips.

The kiss grew more intense, and Y/n found herself responding to him. Her body melted against his, her hands gripping his shoulders as a soft moan escaped her lips. "Lando…" she whispered, her voice filled with need.

The elevator continued to ascend, and Y/n's mind was clouded with need. Lando's lips left hers briefly, only to blaze a trail of hot kisses down her neck. She found herself arching against him, whispering "More…please" as her body ached for his touch.

Lando seemed encouraged by her pleading, his hands roaming her body as his lips continued their assault on her neck. He pressed his body against hers, his hips slowly rutting against her in a teasing rhythm.

"Gods, you're driving me crazy," Lando muttered, his voice hoarse with desire. His hands moved lower, cupping her hips and pulling her impossibly close so they were flush against each other.

Lando grudgingly pulled back, reluctantly detaching his mouth from Y/N's neck. The elevator doors opened with a soft 'ding,' signaling they had reached his floor. Lando stepped back, reluctantly removing his hands from her hips.

His eyes burned as he looked at her; her lips slightly swollen, skin flushed, and hair disheveled. The sight of her sent another jolt of need through him, but he managed to resist the urge to pull her back into his arms. Instead, he gestured for her to follow him down the hallway towards his hotel room.

Lando fumbled with the key card, opening the door to his room. He ushered Y/N inside, his eyes never leaving her. The moment the door shut behind them, Lando pushed Y/N against it, and the sound of the door slamming echoed in the quiet room.

His body pressed against hers, trapping her between the cool wood of the door and his warm, solid frame. His hands found her wrists, pinning them above her head as his lips crashed against hers in a passionate, bruising kiss.

Y/n and Lando were both feeling the effects of the alcohol they had consumed earlier that night. Their inhibitions lowered, they found themselves drawn to each other, their bodies pressed close together as they made out passionately against the door.

Y/n's heart raced as Lando's lips met hers, their tongues entwining in a sensual dance. She could feel the heat radiating off his body, his strong hands roaming over her curves. The sensation sent shivers down her spine, and she couldn't help but let out a soft moan.

Lando's hands slid down to Y/n's hips, pulling her even closer to him. He could feel her soft breasts pressing against his chest, and it only fueled his desire for her. His lips trailed down to her neck, leaving a path of hot kisses along her skin.

Y/n tilted her head back, giving Lando better access to her sensitive neck. She could feel his teeth grazing her skin, and it sent a jolt of pleasure through her body. Her hands reached up to tangle in his hair, holding him close as he continued his assault on her senses.

Lando's strong arms easily lifted Y/n, carrying her over to the nearby bed. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as he laid her down gently on the soft mattress. The movement caused her short dress to ride up, revealing the tantalizing sight of her light blue lace panties.

Lando's breath caught in his throat at the erotic view. He drank in the sight of Y/n's long, toned legs and the delicate fabric barely covering her most intimate area. Desire coursed through his veins, his arousal growing with each passing second.

Y/n looked up at Lando with lust-filled eyes, a coy smile playing on her lips. She could see the hunger in his gaze as it roamed over her body. Slowly, teasingly, she reached down and hooked her fingers in the waistband of her panties.

"Do you like what you see, Lando?" Y/n purred, her voice low and seductive. She slowly started to slide the lace down her legs, revealing more of her smooth, creamy skin, before putting them back on teasingly.

Lando knelt before Y/n, his hands gently caressing her thighs as he leaned in to leave a trail of hot kisses along her smooth skin. "God, I fucking love this view," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "You're so pretty, so perfect."

Y/n shivered with anticipation as Lando's lips moved higher and higher up her thighs. She could feel the heat of his breath on her sensitive skin, and it only heightened her arousal. Her fingers tangled in his hair, guiding him closer to her aching core.

Lando's fingers hooked into the waistband of Y/n's panties, slowly pulling them down and off her legs. He tossed them aside, his eyes feasting on the glistening wetness between her thighs. "You're so wet for me, baby," he growled, his voice thick with lust.

Unable to resist any longer, Lando leaned in and ran his tongue along Y/n's slit, savoring the taste of her arousal. She let out a gasp, her hips bucking against his face as he continued to explore her most intimate area with his tongue.

Y/n's moans grew louder and more frequent as Lando devoured her like a man starved. His tongue delved deep into her dripping folds, lapping up her arousal. He alternated between broad strokes and targeted flicks against her sensitive clit, driving her wild with pleasure.

"Oh god, Lando! Yes, just like that!" Y/n cried out, her voice trembling with ecstasy. Her fingers tightened in his hair, holding him firmly against her as she ground her hips against his face. The obscene sounds of his mouth on her pussy filled the room, mixing with her moans.

Lando groaned against her, the vibrations adding to her pleasure. He could feel her thighs beginning to quiver and tense around his head, signaling her impending release. Determined to bring her over the edge, he redoubled his efforts, sucking hard on her clit as he thrust two fingers deep inside her tight cunt.

Y/n's eyes flew open as she felt Lando's fingers suddenly plunge into her wet heat. She looked down at him, her eyes wide and filled with shock and arousal. Their gazes locked, and the intensity of the moment sent a jolt of electricity through her body.

Lando's fingers pumped in and out of her, curling to hit that special spot inside her that made her see stars. His thumb rubbed circles on her clit, the dual stimulation pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

"Eyes on me, baby," he commanded, his voice muffled against her sensitive flesh. "I want to see your face when you cum."

Y/n's breath came in short, sharp gasps as Lando's fingers worked their magic inside her. She couldn't tear her eyes away from his, the connection between them only heightening her pleasure. Her body tensed, the coil of tension in her lower belly winding tighter and tighter.

Lando could sense her impending orgasm, and he doubled down on his efforts. He sucked hard on her clit, his fingers pumping furiously in and out of her dripping cunt. He wanted to feel her come undone, to watch her face as she lost herself in the throes of passion.

With a final flick of his tongue and a deep thrust of his fingers, Y/n finally reached her breaking point. Her body convulsed, her back arching off the bed as wave after wave of intense pleasure crashed over her. "Lando!" she screamed, his name falling from her lips like a prayer.

Lando continued to work her through her orgasm, his fingers and tongue bringing her down from the high. As her body went limp, he pulled back and looked up at her with a satisfied grin. "That's it, baby."

Lando stood up, his face glistening with Y/n's juices. His eyes were dark with lust, his cock straining against the confines of his pants. With a growl, he quickly stripped off his clothes, tossing them haphazardly on the floor until he stood before her completely naked.

Y/n's gaze roamed over his muscular body, taking in every inch of his tanned skin and hard planes. Her eyes zeroed in on his impressive erection, standing proud and ready. She licked her lips, already craving more of him.

Lando climbed onto the bed, crawling over Y/n's prone form. He hovered above her, his hips nestled between her thighs. "I need to be inside you," he rasped, his voice rough with desire. "I need to feel your tight little pussy wrapped around my cock."

Y/n wrapped her legs around his waist, using her heels to urge him closer. "Then take me," she breathed, her nails raking down his back. "Fuck me hard, Lando. Make me yours."

Lando positioned himself at Y/n's entrance, the head of his cock teasing her slick folds. He could feel the heat emanating from her core, beckoning him to plunge into her depths. With a swift thrust of his hips, he buried himself inside her, groaning at the exquisite sensation of her tight walls enveloping him.

"Oh fuck, you feel amazing," Lando grunted, his hands gripping her hips as he began to move. He set a relentless pace, his thick cock stretching and filling her with each powerful thrust.

Y/n's head fell back, her eyes fluttering closed as she reveled in the feeling of being so thoroughly claimed by Lando. Her nails dug into his shoulders, her hips rising to meet his every stroke. "Yes, just like that!" she cried out, her voice a mix of pleasure and desperation.

Lando's thrusts grew harder and faster, his balls slapping against her ass as he drove into her again and again. He could feel her tightening around him, her body responding to his every move. "You're so fucking tight," he growled, his fingers digging into the flesh of her hips.

Y/n's body tensed, her back arching off the bed as her second orgasm crashed over her. "Oh god, Lando! I'm cumming!" she screamed, her walls clamping down around his throbbing cock.

The sensation of her coming undone around him pushed Lando over the edge. With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside her, his cock pulsing as he released his load. But instead of staying inside her, he pulled out at the last moment, his hot seed spurting onto her stomach and breasts.

"Fuck, Y/n," Lando groaned, his hips jerking as he emptied himself onto her. Pulling out, he watched as his cum coated her skin, marking her as his.

Barely giving Y/n a moment to catch her breath, Lando lifted her up. His strong hands gripped her hips, lifting her up and positioning her so that she was straddling his face. "I'm not done with you yet," he growled, his voice muffled against her dripping folds.

Y/n gasped as she felt Lando's tongue delve into her sensitive cunt, his lips and teeth nipping at her swollen clit. Her hands braced against the headboard, her body already trembling with renewed arousal.

Lando's hands gripped her ass, spreading her open for him as he devoured her like a man possessed. He alternated between long, slow licks and quick flicks of his tongue, driving her wild with pleasure.

"Oh fuck, Lando!" Y/n cried out, her hips grinding against his face. She could feel another orgasm building, the coil of tension in her belly winding tighter and tighter.

Y/n's eyes drifted down to Lando's cock, still rock hard and glistening with their combined juices. A wicked grin spread across her face as she leaned down, her breasts pressing against his thighs as she brought her lips to the tip of his member.

She placed a soft kiss on the head, her tongue darting out to lap up the drops of precum. Lando groaned against her pussy, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body. Encouraged by his reaction, Y/n took him into her mouth, her lips stretching around his girth.

In the 69 position, they pleasured each other with reckless abandon. Y/n bobbed her head up and down his shaft, taking him deeper into her throat with each pass. Lando's tongue delved into her folds, lapping up her sweet nectar as he brought her closer and closer to the edge.

As Lando's tongue worked its magic on Y/n's sensitive clit, she could feel her orgasm building rapidly. Her hips bucked against his face, her moans muffled by his thick cock filling her mouth. She took him deeper, her throat constricting around him as she gagged on his length.

Lando's own pleasure mounted, his cock twitching in Y/n's mouth as he approached his climax. He could feel her tightening around him, her body trembling with the force of her impending release. With a final, powerful thrust of his tongue, he sent her over the edge.

Y/n's scream of ecstasy was cut off by Lando's cock as he erupted in her mouth. Her eyes watered, tears streaming down her face as she struggled to swallow his hot seed. The sensation of his cum hitting the back of her throat only intensified her own orgasm, her body shaking uncontrollably as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her.

Lando's insatiable desire for Y/n showed no signs of abating. As they both came down from their intense orgasms, he pulled her off his body, repositioning her so that she was straddling him. He leaned back against the headboard, his hands gripping her hips as he guided her onto his still-hard cock.

"Ride me, baby," Lando growled, his voice thick with lust. "I want to feel you bouncing on my dick."

Y/n's body was still trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasm, her eyes glazed over with a mix of pleasure and exhaustion. She placed her hands on his chest for balance, slowly lowering herself onto his throbbing member. A soft gasp escaped her lips as he stretched her once again, filling her completely.

She began to move, her hips rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Lando's hands roamed over her body, squeezing her breasts and pinching her nipples as she rode him. The combination of pain and pleasure only served to heighten her arousal, her walls clenching around him with each thrust.

Y/n's movements became more erratic, her body struggling to keep up with the relentless pace Lando had set. "I can't... I can't take anymore," she whimpered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lando's grip on her hips tightened, his fingers digging into her soft flesh. "Be a good girl f' me," he commanded, his voice low and authoritative. "I know you can take another round."

Tears streamed down Y/n's face as she tried to comply with his demands. Her body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending screaming for relief. But the thought of letting Lando down was too much to bear. She gritted her teeth, pushing through the pain and exhaustion as she continued to ride him.

Lando could sense her struggle, but he refused to relent. He wanted to push her to her limits, to see just how much she could take. His cock throbbed inside her, the sensation of her tight walls clenching around him driving him closer to the edge.

Despite her exhaustion, Y/n found the strength to continue riding Lando's cock. Her hips moved in a steady rhythm, rising and falling as she took him deep inside her. The pain and pleasure mixed together, creating a heady cocktail that left her dizzy with sensation.

Lando's hands roamed over her body, squeezing and kneading her soft flesh. He pinched her nipples, twisting them slightly as he watched her face contort with a mix of pain and pleasure. "That's it, baby," he growled, his voice low and rough. "Take it all for me."

Y/n's moans grew louder, her body trembling with the effort of keeping up with Lando's relentless pace. She could feel another orgasm building, the coil of tension in her belly winding tighter and tighter.

Lando could sense her impending release, and he doubled his efforts. His hips bucked up to meet her downward thrusts, his cock hitting that special spot inside her that made her see stars. "Cum for me, Y/n," he demanded, his voice thick with lust.

Y/n's body tensed, her back arching as she felt her orgasm approaching. She gritted her teeth, pushing herself to the limit as she rode Lando's cock with increasing fervor. Her walls began to flutter around him, signaling her imminent release.

"Oh god, Lando!" she cried out, her voice raw with emotion. "I'm going to cum!"

Lando's grip on her hips tightened, his fingers digging into her flesh as he thrust up into her with powerful strokes. "That's it, baby," he growled, his own release building. "Let go for me. Cum all over my cock."

With a final, desperate thrust, Y/n reached her breaking point. Her body convulsed, her walls clamping down around Lando's throbbing member as she came undone. The sensation of her tightening around him was too much for Lando to bear, and with a guttural groan, he erupted inside her, his hot seed filling her with each powerful pulse.

As they both came down from their intense orgasms, Lando leaned forward, capturing Y/n's lips in a passionate kiss. His hands caressed her face, his thumbs wiping away the tears that still clung to her lashes. "You did so good, baby," he murmured against her lips. "I'm so proud of you."

Y/n's body went limp, her head resting on Lando's shoulder as she tried to catch her breath. She could feel his cock still inside her, softening but not yet fully withdrawn. The sensation was comforting, a reminder of the incredible pleasure they had just shared.

Lando continued to pepper her face with gentle kisses, his lips trailing along her jawline and down her neck. "You're amazing," he whispered, his voice filled with admiration and affection.

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[screampied]

i have an idea :]

ok so i always see people asking for gentle/needy/desperate choso. and i love it, but…

what about unassumingly ruthless choso? reader doesn’t know what she’s getting into? reader is cocky and gets humbled FAST? idk i just…

👉👈

❤︎ ໋𓈒 choso who puts his cute bratty gf in her place

warnings. fem! reader, attempted brat taming, doggystyle, big dick choso, unprotected.

you’ve always been one to push his buttons, mainly because he always made it so easy.

choso was as intimidating as a kitten, whenever you’d tease him he’d always keep composure or restrain himself.

briefly smiling nervously, kissing your wrist and telling you to be a good girl and wait until you each return home.

but one day, he kind of just snaps…

he takes you home from shopping nearly all day with you, and you were enthusiastically ecstatic. you wondered what he’d do this time, but your thoughts were no match for what he had initially planned. to put it brief, choso had you laid on the bed on all fours. he’s drilling ruthlessly into your pussy and you’re just…speechless. choso’s so handsy, every few seconds he’d spank your ass to hear you whine out his name—in such two slutty syllables.

“c-choso..” you’d moan, the left side of your cheek attached practically to the silk bed sheets as if it was velcro.

“shh, no talkin, princess,” he grunts, and you could hear the slight whine picking up his voice before he stops himself. “i-i have to be more stern with you it seems. can’t always be so nice, gotta humble you just a little bit, fuck.”

if it was a word to perfectly describe you right now, at this particular moment…it would for sure be…dumbfounded.

you couldn’t see yourself but you’d bet money you looked stupid.

choso’s dick was so lengthy, appetizing and hitting every spot with just the tiniest amount of pressures his thrusts had you gnawing on the inside of your cheek with your toes curling tightly.

“what’s the matter? no more attitude?” he huffs, tilting his head to move some remaining strands that were starting to occlude his vision.

“i-if you’re gonna be rough, at least go h—”

“…oh, baby, you’re jus’ asking for it by this point.” he murmurs, wiping his forehead with the back of his palm.

your eyes rolls at feeling the very tips the curve of choso’s cock kiss against your folds. so deep, his thrusts were sloppy. purely responsible for the squelched that continuously sang throughout the room.

choso grabs onto both of your waist, and you moan once he’s just dragging your hips back and forth against him, making sure you feel every thick inch of his.

“do me a favor ‘n arch your back more,” immensely, you do—your body responds to choso with such a quickness it was simply humiliating. “good girl….now,” and you barely recognize choso’s voice. usually it’s so sweet and tender, now it was rough and a bit husky, a rasp hidden underneath each sentence he spoke.

needless to say, you found this version of choso to be quite hot.

“wait,” he pauses, pausing the mood with his own cute stammer in his voice, back to normal. “not goin' to rough, am i? i want you to be comfortable and-”

“baby, ‘m fine. keep fucking me please.” you pleaded, feeling his hips stutter as he was in the middle of talking. even trying to keep up a act, he still wanted to make sure you were okay—choso simpers to himself, caressing your ass before spanking it yet another time.

“okay okay,” he hums. his hips pick up again and you’re basically being pounded into the bed. the grip he had on your hips wasn’t too rough but just the perfect amount.

choso’s breathing starts to pick up, and he enjoys the view of you more than he thought he would. his head goes back, along with his let down hair before he pivots his hips a certain way. your pussy clamped down against him and you hear his jaw clench in pleasure. “…shit.”

your legs quavered beneath him, and he then used a hand to bring both of your wrists behind your back. “j-just like that choso, please, please.”

“baby, you’re not supposed to be praising me,” he pouts, and you giggle before moaning again — a sudden moment occurs where you thickly swallow, only to continue your sweet whimpers. “this was s-supposed to be a punishment.”

“so punish me then.” you mewled, your cunt easily hugs him like a vice, the noise it makes, a wet pop and you’re just soaked. choso’s ears grows hot from the feeling and he knows you can feel it too.

he sighs, shoving you further into the bed. “you’re something else.” and his voice grows low and pitched again—yet choso does the unexpected. he leans right into you, and you instantaneously feel the heel of his foot press against the very back of your head.

he wore socks, the soft padded wool brushes against your neck, and he’s roughly driving into your pussy now to where you can’t even saying anything.

all that came out of your dumb mouth was a squeal, this angle…

“let me have you,” he grunts, balls deep, his base was thick and repeatedly thwacked against your entrance. you were dizzy…drunk, but not that kind of drunk. the good kind where all you could think about was how good you were getting stuffed by your boyfriend’s hefty cock. “yeah, just lie down and let me—fuck.”

you’re panting, and it felt so good.

choso was always used to being gentle and tender with you, although if you wanted him to be a little rougher, he was more than happy to oblige.

“i-i’m gonna cum, choso… gonna make me cum.”

“don’t think you deserve it, he utters, and your lips part, jaw dropping, plethora of sweetened moans only escaping as a subtle response. “you’ve been teasing me all day. even started to stroke me in the dressing room.”

“s-sorry.” you moaned.

choso remains with his foot near the back of your head before pursing his eyebrows together. “you’re not sorry are you, baby? be honest.”

“n—no,” you whined, the thickness of his shaft twitching inside of you felt so heavenly. you could have sworn you felt a vein that ran down his length pulse inside of your tight cunt. “you’re right, you’re right, ‘m not s-sorry.”

he chuckles. “you could have just lied, you know?”

choso’s angle and thrusts against you were so pivotal inside you, so astonishingly deep that not even moments later you end up cumming hard. leaving a ring around his base. your breathing was irregular and heavy, eyes half-lidded and just convulsing underneath him.

“messy girl,” he whispers, pulling out, not even caring that he didn’t finish, all that matters was that you did. choso turns you over before planting a kiss on your lips—you pull him in for another, and another, before you make him trample onto you. “did you learn your lesson?”

“no,” you moaned, sitting up before lightly shoving him down on his back, straddling his lap now. “i want more.”

choso smirks, sliding a hand down your waist, fully disregarding his flustered face at seeing you attempt to take control. “of course you do, brat.”