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kooktrash · 7 months

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lost & found | jeon jungkook

summary:your college years have never been something you dwelled on for too long. you didn’t want to think of all the chances you lost and that’s why when the guy you had a crush on moves back to town, you try not to let it affect you again. but then he brings up old memories that didn’t go the way you thought they had and you’re thrown for a loop. you’re stuck between finding something new with him and falling back into old habits of never standing up for yourself. it probably doesn’t help that he dated your best friend, where everything seemed to go wrong.

➣ genre/au: jungkook x reader [she/her, female anatomy], mid-20’s friendships. what kind of au is this? smut, plot

➣18.7k words

warnings: heavy plot. smut. a little bit of angst if you squint. tae is oc defender. shy oc. jk is an old college classmate. oc and jk got complicated, misunderstood history :(. oc is kinda insecure? bathroom sex. teasing. foreplay [f and m receiving]. very neeeedddy, long time waited sex.. unprotected. jk fucks oc on the counter, on the door. jk is tatted up but not in his college days. heavy makeout. breast play. fingering. dirty talk. oc goes down on jk as a thx 🤧 jk dated oc’s bestie but there’s HISTORY. oc’s bestie is the real villain im sorry. took advantage of two insecure college kids >:( love lost, love found vibes. just read I swear it’s not that bad 😭 no cheating. FRIEND BREAK UPS. oc gets confident toward the end

song inspo: bff — jesse

As you settle into adulthood, you learn a few things about friendships. There tends to be a slight divide between those you’ve known since you were young and those you’ve collected over the years. Some might value the friendships they’ve held longer more than those that are more recent but for others, what matters is the trust that comes with friendship no matter with whom it might be with. You’re somewhere in between, you think.

You have people like Taehyung who you’ve only recently started to get to know and have had a chance to grow close with. He doesn’t know everything about you yet but he doesn’t need to, he seems to understand enough now to be an important person in your current life. He’s the kind of friend you're thankful you’ve met on some random occasion.

Then you have someone like your best friend, Miyoung. You’re not sure the last time you had ever been truly without her at your side. From your earlier school years to college, to now when you’re both settled into what would essentially be your careers and private lives. She’s… she's special to you in a way that you're not sure you could ever find in someone else—or at least that’s what she says?

There hasn’t been a time where it wasn’t the two of you practically glued together at the hip and you credit her for her outgoing nature that always seemed to balance with your more introverted demeanor. Of course it didn't mean you couldn’t make friends without her [take Taehyung for example] but she’s always seemed to gravitate people toward you with her energy. That’s why you're not at all surprised by tonight’s events and how everyone seemed surprised that you came alone.

”Honestly, I’m happy you made it, it feels like we haven’t seen each other in so long,” Your friend, Hoseok, pointed out as he led you to the private area of the lounge bar where it seemed like a reunion was taking place, “When Miyoung said she wasn’t going to make it, I thought you probably weren’t going to show up and—“

”Is that what you would have preferred?” You asked with a teasing smile as he began to stumble over his words, attempting to backtrack.

“What? Y/n, don’t you know I’ve been desperately enamored by you since your first year? Don’t make such crass comments,” He joked back, helping you out of your coat as you grew closer to the room filled with loud chatter. He led you with hands on your shoulders and said, “And between us, I’m a little happy she didn’t come. I wasn’t really in the mood for this to turn into a Battle of the Exes fighting ground.”

”What do you mean?” You barely had time to ask as you entered the room where an explosion of your name was heard by old college classmates of yours who all seemed on the border of tipsy and in a good mood. You couldn’t help but smile, looking at everyone at once till your eyes fell on the person in question.

He didn’t hesitate to meet your gaze with equal surprise as you sat across from him, just one person down the line. Immediately the people next to you tried sparking a conversation and you used it as a distraction to keep from gawking at him. When Miyoung told you she wouldn’t make it, you debated coming yourself but after some begging from Hoseok you decided to come along. Despite your best friend not joining, you're kind of glad she didn’t. Hoseok is right, it would have been a battlefield and you did not want to be caught in the middle of it.

“Y/n.”

Ignore, maybe? Just ignore and maybe he’ll forget trying to talk to you and your head won't be on the chopping block. You looked down the table at some of the other people you remember from campus activities or long lectures and tried to ignore the growing smile you could see on his face from the corner of your eye.

“Hungry?” The person next to you asked as he made you look his way. There were platters of hand food across the bar table and you happily took whatever Jimin offered. As much as you hated it, you couldn’t help but look across the table to make sure it really was who you thought it was,

Jeon Jungkook.

Better known as your best friend’s ex boyfriend.

Or worse, the first guy you liked when you started University.

”Hi,” he said in a low voice, catching you in the middle of staring at him. In your defense, he seemed so different—more matured if you will. Now he was covered in tattoos and piercings, he lost that sort of boyish charm but clearly gained something else along the way. He was buff and bigger, more intimidating yet alluring? Safe to say he didn’t look like the ‘Boy Next Door’ you had a crush on in your English seminar.

“You’re here,” was all you could think to say back, giving up on your sorry attempt at ignoring him for no real reason other than saving yourself from an awkward encounter.

”So are you,” Jungkook bit into his bottom lip as he looked at you closely. How is it that someone could look so different but the same all at once? In your gaze he could still see that curiosity in everything that he remembered from back then when he would spend lectures wondering what was on your mind. In your appearance, he can see how much you’ve changed physically. They were surely small differences in everyone else’s eyes but he always had a tendency to pay too much attention to you and it would get him in trouble.

You gave him a polite nod in response to his blatant observation that matched yours and attempted to shift your attention elsewhere but he didnt let it get too far. He cleared his throat, “How have you been?”

“Me?” You asked, “Okay, I guess. Busy with work.”

“So I’ve heard, you’re in marketing now, right? What happened to your writing?” Jungkook asked, seeming genuinely curious to know. He didn’t care for the conversations happening around him more than he did hearing your response now that you looked more willing to give him one.

“It wouldn’t have paid the bills—You remember my writing?” You asked, surprise evident in your features that he couldn’t help but smile.

It was hard for him to forget his biggest competition at the time. He let out a small sigh, ready to go on about being unable to forget a certain piece you wrote when a firm hand was placed on his shoulder. Yoongi stood over him, “Smoke break?”

Say no, he thought. Jungkook could easily reject the offer and continue what he was going to say. Without meaning to, he looked back at you, but you had excused yourself from the table in the blink of an eye. Nodding hesitantly, he grabbed his jacket and followed his friend out while he wondered where you went so suddenly.

You were hiding in the washroom when you got the call from Miyoung, like she had a sixth sense telling her to reach out.

“So how is it? Is it as boring as I said it’d be?” Miyoung asked as she waited in line for some nightclub she was going to with some of her various other friends.

“Um, kind of?” You said without much thought—knowing it was what she wanted to hear. In reality, it was fun. You were greeted warmly that it washed away your earlier worries and you’re being taken care of by old friends you didn't get to talk to as much. Not to mention, you’re seeing Jungkook again after a couple years of hearing and thinking of nothing about the guy, so you don’t actually think it's boring.

Miyoung snorted, “Figures, good thing I didn’t go. I could not sit through more than an hour of everyone going on and on about what they’ve been up to. I mean, yeah I miss Hobi and stuff but I could see him whenever, y’know? Who all showed up?”

“I think everyone,” You admitted with a nervous bite of your lip. It was now or never. You tell her that it seems like Jungkook has come to visit or has come back to stay and you’re not sure how she’ll take that. She might even march over here just to tell him how she's felt these last two years and chances are that’ll ruin the easy vibe for everyone else. You leaned against the stall door and talked with her.

“So you’re back,” Yoongi asked with a smirk as he took a drag from his cigarette, “My Golden Boy’s back? Someone pinch me.”

“Funny guy,” Jungkook said sarcastically as he looked out onto the busy street. Yoongi shrugged, turning toward the bar window looking around to see the group, “Aren’t you happy you came?”

“Yeah, it’s great seeing everyone again,” Jungkook told him casually, flicking the end of his cigarette and watching the ash fall to the cold cement of the street.

“Want to know who surprised me tonight?” Yoongi asked, looking over at him to see if his expression would change at all, “Y/n.”

Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly, “What do you mean?”

He shrugged, dropping ash to the ground, “Y/n never comes out to these sorts of things, and if she does come it’s usually with Miyoung but she came by herself tonight.

“Yeah…” Jungkook zoned out a bit as he thought about it more, “Why doesn’t she meet up with you guys often?”

“You know Y/n doesn't really go out,” Yoongi said, “And she’s busy with work, at least that’s what Hobi says. I don’t know, when Hobi said Miyoung wasn’t coming tonight we both expected Y/n to not show too but… hey, aren’t you happy she isn’t here?”

“I don’t really care either way,” Jungkook confessed truthfully, “But do you know if… y’know, you might have heard something about Y/n and if she’s still seeing someone or—“

“Oh God,” Yoongi couldn’t help but laugh as he put his cigarette out, Jungkook doing the same, “It’s been like three years, man.”

Jungkook watched him laugh as he walked off leaving him to follow, “What?”

Yoongi held the door open for him, “You know what, but I’ll answer your question, anyway. Last I heard Y/n is single, so what now?”

He waited for Jungkook to respond but he wasn’t listening anymore. There were too many things on his mind that he needed to work out before you came back to the table.

“What do you mean you’re leaving? You just got here,” Jimin said to you as he held your hand in his to stop you from leaving, “One more drink.”

“It’s late,” You tried to say, “I’ve got to be up early.”

“Liar, it’s a Saturday night, Y/n. Sit your ass back down,” Hobi said with a firm voice making you sit down immediately. He flashed you a cute smile before asking everyone if they wanted another round of drinks.

“So, what were we talking about earlier?” Jungkook asked, trying to get you to talk to him again, “Your writing? Yeah, how can I forget it? Remember we used to read each other’s essays all the time before… well.”

Before he broke up with your best friend.

“Yeah, I remember,” You admitted, trying to find something to say. What kind of questions would Miyoung want to know? What do you want to know? What should you prepare your friend to know? “How long are you visiting?”

“Actually, I just moved back, I got a job doing graphic design for a local company,” Jungkook told you with the hint of a smile, “It’s my first time meeting up with everyone again.”

You let yourself indulge in small talk with him here and there but usually when he started it. The night had been fine, you enjoyed your time but after a while all you wanted to do was go home and Hoseok couldn’t make you stay any longer. You ended your night wondering if you should go out more.

Everything has a backstory, right? How it all started and yours seems pretty tacky. You spent the first couple years of University doing what you had to do in school and letting Miyoung drag you to whatever outing she had on the weekends. Some time in your third year, you joined this English class with the most boring, monotonous professor ever and that’s where you met Jungkook.

In all honesty, you thought he was cute from the get go. Sitting through three hours of a boring lecture led people to do odd things and one of those for you was staring at the cute guy who sat down a couple rows from you. It was just a little thing you did to pass time so you never expected anything to actually happen from it.

Then one day most of the seats were taken [naturally, it was a large class] and he seemed to have been running late because his usual cycle of seats were all taken except the one next to yours. Despite all those times you would find yourself ogling the stranger, when he was right next to you, you didn’t say a single word.

It was Jungkook who spoke first and it was just to ask if you could help him catch up. That day you were supposed to read someone else’s prompt and revise it and you chose each other which then trickled down to a routine of it. Without speaking much, he would sit next to you or silently save you a seat whenever you were running late and the one time you decided to switch it up and sit elsewhere…

Well, he was practically pouting the whole day.

It had been a nearly perfect set up to what could have been if you just allowed yourself to go for things but it didn’t happen that way.

One random Tuesday night, Miyoung wanted to go out for some cheap drinks and you found yourselves at a bar not too far from campus where you ran into a senior in one of your classes. Yoongi had come up to you first, just greeting you and making small talk when Jungkook who apparently had come with him, recognized you too.

They drank with you and Miyoung for a bit and you honestly thought it had been fun. You had never had real conversations with him outside of school work and it was nice to have more people to hang with that it just felt natural. Though at some point through the night Miyoung had gotten kind of flirty. She claims she assumed you had wanted Yoongi and not Jungkook and practically called dibs on him despite meeting him for the first time that night.

When she made her intents obvious, you couldn’t help but backtrack.

You always considered yourself pretty self aware about yourself. There was nothing special really and when you compare yourself to Miyoung there just isn’t much competition.

She was the perfect Prom Queen type who always had the nicest clothes or the cutest boyfriends, the best awards and most interesting stories. The amount of guys she would pull who you didn’t even have a chance with was insane. And though you might sound bitter, you’re not. You’ve never been the type to want the spotlight or attention and being best friends with someone so damn perfect was that you could always stay in the shadows.

So when she started flirting with Jungkook, you didn’t really notice his awkward glances or how he shied away from her proximity. You only saw how he smiled politely and listened to her go on and on about how great she is and assumed he was into her like all the others had been.

You tried to act normal after that, you would talk to him every now and then and never questioned why he stopped talking to you as much until he started dating Miyoung but you weren’t bitter. You were understanding.

It made sense he would date her. She was beautiful and smart and someone people pine for. It was a given that that would happen so once again, you didn’t take it personal.

They dated for a couple months [nothing serious at all] and then he dumped her which resulted in Miyoung practically forbidding you from even looking his way at all. You completed your last year without thinking about him despite the various mutual friends you shared and went on with your life when he moved.

That was the backstory and why you felt so awkward seeing him the other night.

You haven’t told Miyoung yet because there’s a high chance she won’t care at all and would get annoyed that you even thought to bring it up. Your friend is very pretty and she likes being in relationships so she’s been in quite a few since they dated and probably doesn’t care to be reminded at all.

The only person you’ve told is Taehyung.

“But did you at least have fun?” He asked as the two of you sat at a small restaurant for lunch. You nodded your head, “Yeah, it was alright. It was just weird, for me at least.”

“Why?” Taehyung asked as he dug into his meal, stuffing his mouth with no care in the world, “I mean it’s obvious everyone was happy to see you and didn’t want you to leave. Who cares if Miyoung didn’t go, clearly it didn’t matter to anyone else.”

You didn’t say anything, taking your time to enjoy your meal as you drifted off in thought. He is right, you know that sometimes it’s just in your head and you overthink things. You always feel like you’re boring to others so it’s natural for you to assume no one would be happy to see just you and not your bubble of joy best friend. There has to be a certain level of comfort between you and another person to show personality and it’s rare people get to see it.

“But how’d it go with that guy? Did he ask you about her?” Taehyung asked with a hint of curiosity.

“Not that I can remember. I don’t know, it was kind of awkward but we talked a bit,” You told him honestly, “He just moved back down so that’s cool I guess.”

Taehyung looked at you skeptically but you avoided his gaze, trying to distract yourself with your phone.

yoongi: throwing a welcome back party for jk this weekend, u coming?

you: idk, if I’m free

yoongi: … ur always free🤒

yoongi: just say yes, bring whoever u want

you: but is he ok with me going

yoongi: y wouldn’t he be

yoongi: he’s the one who asked me to make sure u come

you: okkkkkk 🥹

“Tae, can you come with me to this party please?” You asked, immediately showing your friend your text messages leaning across the table for him to see them clearly.

Taehyung’s brows furrowed as he read through the texts carefully, “Jungkook is the ex boyfriend, right? Why’s he so interested in you going?”

“He’s not,” you said, “He’s probably just doing it to be nice, since everyone I know will be there.”

“What if he’s… y’know, interested?” Taehyung asked curiously and you nearly choked on your drink.

“No, oh my god,” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “We were just classmates and we stopped talking after he dumped Miyoung so—“

“Yeah but did you ever stop to think ‘hm, I’m the one who knew this guy first and then Miyoung went and snatched him from me before I even got a chance to explore’,” Taehyung said in a high pitched voice, presumably mocking yours. You reached over to playfully shove his shoulder making him grin mischievously.

“What? No, it wasn’t like that at all,” You tried to say, “Him and I didn’t even really talk until the night he met her at the bar and… no, that’s crazy. He liked Miyoung right away.”

Taehyung just sighed, giving up on trying to get through to you, “If you say so, but who’s the one he approached first? Because I can tell you right now it wasn’t her.”

Despite how he expresses himself when he talks about your best friend, he doesn’t dislike her. He thinks Miyoung is alright, maybe a little too much for his tastes but that doesn’t mean anything. He understands the two of you are really close and although he has had many chances to befriend her too, he just hasn’t.

He’ll talk to her if you force them to hang out together but he would never go out of his way to be her friend. It might sound bad but Taehyung is pretty protective over you and rightfully so, he feels.

He doesn’t want to badmouth one of his closest friends but you have a tendency to overthink things. You don’t realize how great you are and make yourself seem smaller and he thinks Miyoung and other people like her in your life are at fault. He’s heard some of the things she says to you and it’s like you hold her up so highly there’s no room for you to see how pretty, smart, and talented you are. And before anyone gets the wrong idea, he’s not in love with you or anything.

You’re too good for him so he gave up on that idea long ago.

Plus, now that he’s able to connect some of those pieces from when you were in Uni, some things are clicking into place for him. Miyoung tends to dim your light a bit, or copy something you do and claim it as her own and when he hears this little backstory between all of your old college friends… he just can’t help but wonder if Jungkook was one of those things she claimed for herself.

With that thought in mind, he agreed to go with you to this party and see for himself what is there and what could be. He just wants what’s best for you and for you to be able to go and get it without worrying you’re not good enough or stepping on anyone’s toes.

When Friday night came, your apartment was filled with loud music and even louder complaints coming from one person in particular. Taehyung was just listening to you and Miyoung go back and forth about tonight’s plans and it got to the point where you couldn’t say anything but the truth about what you would be doing tonight.

“It’s a welcome back party for Jungkook,” You said, trying your hardest not to let your voice sound strained.

“What? When did he get back?” Miyoung asked, sitting up from your bed and tossing your pillow off her lap, “Like he moved back?”

“Yeah, I guess not too long ago,” You said with a shrug, looking in your mirror to see if you liked the way you looked or not, “I don’t know, Yoongi is the one who invited me.”

“Why didn’t I know? Why wasn’t I invited?” Miyoung asked, turning to Taehyung like he would have the answers.

“Probably because you’re his ex girlfriend and you ditched out on their little reunion so you could party,” Taehyung said, not bothering to look up from his phone.

“Yeah but, why’d they ask Y/n? She’s not even friends with him,” Miyoung said with a slight scoff, “You’re not actually going right? We could go out, just the three of us. You already hung out with them, you and I haven’t gone out in weeks, let’s just do our own thing. Unless you’re trading me in for all of them.”

You looked at her with apologetic eyes. You’ve been busy with work recently and she is right. The last people you hung out with aside from Taehyung were all of them two weekends ago so it would only be fair to hang out with her this time. It shouldn’t mean anything that you were invited and that Jungkook wanted to make sure you were going. Miyoung was supposed to be your best friend so how could you go to a party she wasn’t invited to?

Just as you were going to give in and shoot Yoongi a text that you weren’t going to make it, Taehyung spoke up for you. “Why don’t you just come with? One of them said Y/n can bring whoever she wants and I’m already going so it’s not like you have to be by yourself. Plus, aren’t the rest of them supposed to be your friends too? Y/n already agreed.”

“Why didn’t you ask me first?”

“I didn’t realize I needed permission,” You couldn’t help but sigh, sitting on the edge of the bed to comfort her, “We can just stop by, have a drink or two and leave if it’s lame. Come on.”

After much convincing, the three of you arrive at Yoongi’s place which was a small house with good outdoor space and the inside was packed with people already. The amount of party goers made you anxious but at the same time slightly thrilled that surely the attention would never be on you with so many people around.

“Y/n! Miyoung!” Namjoon spotted you two first and he threw his arms around you both with a grin, “Surprised to see you here, Mimi.”

“Yeah, probably because I was the only one not invited,” Miyoung said bitterly, making Namjoon take a drink from his cup and look away nervously.

“Let’s get you guys drinks then,” He said with an awkward clear of his throat looking to Taehyung, “What’s up, I’m Namjoon.”

“Taehyung,” he said, following you to the drinks table. The music played loudly and there were a lot of people having a good time that it was somewhat easy to try and blend in and act normal. Miyoung had a pout on her face, looking around worried but Namjoon brightened her mood and every now and then another friend would stop by to greet her. Taehyung mostly clung to you and only drifted away when a friend would spark conversation with you but you were thankful he was around.

“Y/n,” someone called out to you from across the room. You couldn’t make them out through the crowd of people and it took a while before you spotted Jungkook making his way to your direction.

“Jungkook,” you said with a nervous breath, looking around for Miyoung but she was off with Namjoon talking about god knows what.

“How long have you been here? Why didn’t you say anything?” Jungkook asked, slightly more energetic than usual. His hair was messy, with strands out of place, he wore a basic black tee and baggy jeans so why did he look good? It’s still hard for you to wrap your mind around who this is.

He’s gotten so muscular and just… more intimidating with his tattoo sleeve and piercings and it’s so unexpected but in a good way.

“I, um, you know, I just assumed you were busy,” you lied, looking around for one of your friends. Taehyung was at the table getting a drink and he’ll be back soon to save you before Miyoung looks around.

Jungkook found himself looking around too, as if he could see what you did but he came up short, “Did you come with anyone?”

“Yeah, Miyoung and a friend of mine,” you rushed the words out in hopes of sounding casual but Jungkook didn’t even bat an eye.

“So what are you doing alone?” He asked with a raised brow, taking a step closer to you, “Actually, there’s something that’s been on my mind since last time I saw you and I uh… I haven’t had the chance to say it.”

You blinked nervously, looking up at him and how close he was to you, “What is it?”

He licked his lips, playing with his lip rings shyly, “Well, I was wondering if you would like to get together some time, just you and I. We’ve never had the chance to hang out.”

“We’re hanging out right now, aren’t we?” You asked, feigning naivety that almost seemed teasing. In truth, you could sense what he was possibly asking and you needed him to stop. There was no reason for you two to hang out alone, no matter how much the thought made you giddy.

“I guess,” Jungkook couldn’t help but let his eyebrows knit together in confusion. He took another step closer to you, hand on the wall behind you for support. , “But I was still hoping… I know it’s probably kind of awkward but we’re grown, right? We can get together without worrying about anyone else.”

“Who says it’s because I’m worried?” You asked with a hint of playfulness in an attempt to ease some of the growing tension caused by the way he looked at you, “Where is this coming from all of a sudden?”

That made him crack a smile, “All of a sudden?”

“Yes, all of a sudden,” another voice added in from behind him and you jumped at the sound. Jungkook didn’t bother to turn around, he was more focused on the way you tried to look behind him and meet Miyoung’s glare.

“Where’d you run off to?” You asked, pushing past him making Jungkook slide his hand off the wall and roll his eyes at the disruption.

“Somewhere I felt wanted,” she said bitterly, eyes on Jungkook as she spoke to you, “Let’s go, I’m bored.”

“I thought you were having a good ti—“

“I’m not, Y/n,” Miyoung almost snapped, “You said we could have a drink and go. We’ve been here for like forever and I want to leave. That’s what we agreed on.”

“Okay, jeez, let’s go then,” You said with a sigh, “Let me find Taehyung.”

“Go, then,” Miyoung said, making you take a deep breath, trying to tell yourself she had a right to be upset. She didn’t want you [as her best friend] talking to her ex boyfriend. And you did say you didn’t have to stick around for long…

“What?” Miyoung asked Jungkook with a roll of her eyes as she caught him staring, “Did I interrupt something?”

“You still don’t know how to speak to people like they’re human beings,” Jungkook said simply, “And it’s sad to watch.”

“Screw you,” Miyoung scoffed, “You’re just mad I stopped you from trying to ask my best friend out. My friends are off limits.”

“She was my friend too,” Jungkook said as a reminder, “And I can do whatever I want. You’re just childish.”

She snorted, “Right, says the guy who fumbled me.”

He couldn’t seem to act mature anymore and before he stop himself he said, “Remember, you’re not the one I wanted anyway.”

He walked off without much care for how she felt and found his other friends, wondering who it was you ran off to find.

“Tae, can we go now?” You asked your friend. Taehyung had found himself a group of people to entertain with his stories and had nearly forgotten who he had tagged along with until you pulled him to the side.

“Uh, okay,” Taehyung cleared his throat awkwardly, “What happened? I thought everyone was having a good time.”

“Miyoung wants to leave,” You said with a small sigh, “She saw me talking to Jungkook and I just don’t want it to become this big problem so can we please just go?”

Taehyung placed an arm on your shoulder, leading you to Miyoung who waited at the door, “Yeah, sure let’s go.”

The car had only stayed silent for the first half of the drive to Miyoung’s apartment. Somewhere between the last red light and this short stretch of road, a fire had been lit underneath her which made her start up again.

“So what was that back there?” Miyoung asked from the backseat and you debated just acting asleep or like you were too drunk to listen properly. She leaned forward, looking at you closely.

“What do you mean?” You asked nervously.

“You know exactly what I mean,” Miyoun said with an annoyed tone, “First you get invited to a party for my ex boyfriend and next thing I know the two of you are whispering in the corner looking like you’re about to kiss and like I’m not even in the room.”

Taehyung had to bite his tongue from responding, worried that if he spoke too soon it would only make you seem more weak to her antics. He just tapped his fingers against the window trying to keep silent

“Miyoung,” You started with a sigh, “You’re overreacting. It was nothing, we’re friends—“

“Since when?” Miyoung scoffed, “You’re supposed to be my friend, Y/n.”

“I am,” You said defensively, “And if you want to talk about this tomorrow then that’s fine but right now it’s late and we’ve all been having a decent time so don’t ruin it…”

“Y/n’s right, let’s end the night on a good note,” Taehyung finally said but he seemed to go ignored by you two.

“You’re not though, real friends wouldn’t flirt with their best friend’s ex boyfriend—“

“You two dated for less than five months and it was years ago,” You blurted out, “I knew him before that so don’t act like I’m betraying you.”

“Oh my god, I knew you’d still be bitter I started seeing him,” Miyoung said, suddenly making you hide your face in your hand from exhaustion. “I didn’t know you had a thing for him back then. You should’ve said something instead of holding it against me like you do everything else.”

“What are you talking about?” You couldn’t help but scoff.

Miyoung’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, “You know exactly what I’m talking about and it’s not fair.”

Taehyung took a deep breath, fingers clenched around the steering wheel unable to bite his tongue any longer, “Miyoung I don’t think you’re being fair. You’re clearly drunk and you just want to arg—“

“Shut up, Taehyung,” She snapped, slurring on her words a bit and not even realizing the car came to a stop in front of her building, “I’m not even talking you and you can stop acting like Y/n’s bodyguard because last time I checked she’s a grown adult who could speak for herself. God, I swear everyone is the same. Just because Y/n is boring and insecure, doesn’t mean she doesn’t know how to speak for herself.”

“Get out. We’re at your place so just go,” Taehyung said, annoyed with the harshness she was projecting on you, “Y/n might put up with you but I won’t.”

With an irritated scoff, she swung the back door open, “Fine, screw you guys too.”

The door slammed shut as she stormed up to her apartment and Taehyung waited till she was gone to say, “Fuck, what did that girl drink? Y/n, why do you put up with that? Hey.”

You stayed silent for a moment letting her words sink in. Whatever, she yelled and threw a tantrum, that’s fine, that’s normal. But she seriously thinks you’re just a bore and maybe you’re starting to believe it too. If it weren’t for you always being cautious over how she might feel about you and what you do, you wouldn’t seem so boring.

Or was that just how you were and now you’re trying to say it’s because of Miyoung? Jeez, you just can’t seem to make up your mind about anything but all you know is that… you’re not boring. Well, you don’t have to be. If she wants to think that always backing up whatever she says makes you boring, then maybe it’s time you just do what you want even if she doesn’t like it.

“Tae, can you do me a favor,” You finally said, making him look over at you curiously. The car is still parked in front of Miyoung’s place and he’s been waiting for you to speak anyway, “What?”

“Take me back to the party please.”

Miyoung was wrong, if you were boring it’s because she made you boring. Anytime you did anything on your own, she always had to ruin it and you just let her. You just let Miyoung monopolize your time and make you her right-hand in everything. You’ve never gotten the chance to truly put yourself out there because you firmly believed you didn’t compare.

Maybe you needed to stop overthinking and just do what you want, be confident—or at least act like you are.

“Y/n! You’re back?” Yoongi asked once you made it to the party again, “Let me tell you, I was mad because I thought you left before even talking to me.”

“I’m so very sorry,” You said playfully, “But do you know where Jungkook is?”

He seemed to freeze up, surprise written on his face and he looked down at you questioning. You held his gaze, watching the wheels turn in his head before he was blurting out, “I don’t know. The bathroom?”

You blinked nervously, letting him slip away from you when someone called for him and were left standing there. Your mind was racing with ideas yet you couldn’t think of what to do.

What did you expect coming back?

What does this prove?

You feel anxious and insecure and maybe she was right, you’re boring and you don’t even speak up or do anything exciting.

“Jungkook?” You called out to him as you walked down the hall of doors, knocking or opening whichever door you landed on. You got to the last door with a bated breath, realizing it’s a bedroom and closed yourself in.

Your sense of bravado had been short lived. Whatever burst of confidence you had was completely gone now that you sat alone in the guest room contemplating just going home or not.

In all honesty, this was stupid from the very beginning. You let Miyoung’s words get to you and you acted before you could think. You didn’t need to prove anything. Plus, you don’t want Jungkook. Maybe once before you did… but not… anymore?

God, you felt like an idiot.

“Y/n?”

Your heart dropped with a sense of disbelief as you looked up. The once pitch black room was illuminated by a block of light from the open bathroom door. Jungkook stood at the doorway, brows furrowed as he looked at who sat on the bed.

“Jungkook,” you cleared your throat awkwardly.

“You’re back?” He asked, looking you up and down with a hint of suspicion. You nodded your head silently, making him blink with confusion.

You stood up from the bed suddenly, “Are you done in there?”

“Uh, yeah,” he moved out of your way, watching you closely as you closed the door in his face before he could say anything else.

Maybe this had been a sign that you didn’t want to talk to him but he couldn’t bring himself to leave the privacy in the bedroom to go out where everyone else was. He could hear the faucet running but oblivious to how you wet your face to try and snap yourself out of this strange mood before drying off. When you opened the door, you didn’t expect to see him standing there right in front of you.

“Everything alright?” He asked, halfway in the doorway, walking forward making you step deeper into the bathroom.

“Yeah, everything’s great,” you said with a strained smile, backing away, “Just—what about you? Has it been fun, this is all for you, right?”

“I guess,” Jungkook shrugged, “But it would have been more fun if you stayed.”

“Good thing I came back then,” you couldn’t help but laugh nervously, leaning against the sink counter.

“Good thing,” Jungkook licked his dry lips, “Y/n, about what I was saying earlier… I would honestly like for us together sometime, just the two of us.”

A small, shy smile appeared on your lips as you thought about earlier and repeated yourself playfully, “We’re hanging out right now, aren’t we?”

“I guess,” he blinked in confusion, looking down at you and struggling to keep his composure. Your response was a bit of a let down since he hoped you had come back to see him and he should have known better. You would never take him seriously after his mess with Miyoung and he was always reaching for the stars thinking it could work out.

Plus, you’re too good for him. You always have been.

He can’t explain why, but he’s always felt a sense of ease with you, like everything was perfect. As shameful as it is to admit, Miyoung had reasons to be worried.

When they dated… well, it didn’t stop him from thinking about you from time to time. Miyoung was aware of it too and he looks back on it now and realizes how wrong he was then. It was wrong for him to think about you when he was never able to have you, and he will be much less now.

“Am I wrong? Is it not just the two of us now?” You asked, swallowing the lump in your throat and looking to the bathroom door which was closed some time ago.

“Y/n,” he said it softly but you could sense his warning tone, like you were going to get yourself in trouble. Jungkook wanted to believe you were aware of what this looked like yet he knew there was a chance you weren’t. He couldn’t just go for it.

He could not just go for it.

Not even if you looked up at him with a look in your eyes that said you might want him to…

He could be dreaming it up.

Would you want him to?

No. No way, you would never, that’s how this all started right? You wouldn’t want him the way he wanted you and you’ll go be with someone else while he beats himself up for another failed attempt. He’s not in college anymore, he can’t make the same mistakes.

You do not want him.

“Y/n,” he said with a sigh, “I think we should get out n—“

It was soft but sudden. One second he was giving up on everything he had been hoping for and was ready to go on once again without telling you how he really felt. The next, your lips were on his, barely giving him a chance to feel the tenderness of it before pulling away with a gasp.

“Jungkook,” you covered your mouth with your hand, “Oh my god. I’m s-sorry, I, that was not okay. I shouldn’t have done that.”

You were rambling, apologizing for doing it without asking him first but in all honesty, he couldn’t hear you anymore. There was a strange ringing in his ear that only seemed to stop when he grabbed your face in his hands, and pulled you into a real kiss.

To keep yourself from leaning back too far, you wrapped your arms around his neck and met him the rest of the way. You kissed him back with an equal sense of urgency that had his eyes falling shut and letting himself get lost in the moment. Your lips were soft against his own and his lip rings felt cold on your tongue the first couple times.

At one point you surprised him by nipping at his piercings with a soft tug and it had his hands tightening around your waist, using his strength to pull you onto the counter with ease. It made it easier to kiss you and he let the small sigh you let out guide his tongue between your lips. Your hands were in his dark hair, and you surprised him with the way you took lead of the kiss. It felt like he was melting into you and it was doing things to him.

“Y/n,” he mumbled softly, “I want you so bad.”

You pulled back from him with widened eyes. It was the first time you heard him sound that way and you knew he meant it. He looked at you with an intense gaze and it felt good to be looked at that way by him. You wanted him too, right? That’s why you came back. That's why you were so upset back then. Why can’t you have him now?

What was really stopping you?

Nothing.

The second time he kissed you, you didn’t hesitate from doing more and it had his mouth dropping when he felt your hand trace down his toned chest. He let that feeling motivate his hands to do the same to you and they ran along your sides till he could feel your front. His hands slipped under your top and found your chest, gently reaching to touch you as he kissed you with his tongue.

Your fingers trailed down his navel to the waistband of his jeans, tugging softly and teasingly that you felt the way he sucked in a shaky breath. When he didn’t pull away to tell you to stop, you took it as a sign to go a little farther and undo the button and zipper. Jungkook’s rough fingers caressed your breasts ever so softly but with an added pressure that made you let out a small sigh, especially when he ran his thumb over your nipples.

He released a light groan against your lips when you got more confident in your actions and slipped into the hem of his Calvin Klein’s. You barely touched his growing member but you felt it harden against you, the more attention you gave to it and it was all just exciting to you. His kisses were needy and his rough hands felt so good against your sensitive buds that you couldn’t hold yourself back. You wanted to make him feel good too and you could tell you were.

Jungkook helped you tug his jeans down enough for you to have more reign over him and you touched his bare dick so softly. The first touch was light and teasing, like you were still letting him get lost in the feeling before you actually did anything but it was soft that it made a tingle run down his spine. Goosebumps rose on his skin and blood ran straight to his cock making it easier for you softly palm him to full hardness.

You circled your fingers around his tip, softly running your thumb around the ring feeling him twitch with need and softly sliding down to his base.

His movement grew rougher, he was no longer softly caressing your breasts but more groping, never getting enough for the softness of them. When you began to stroke him gently, he found it hard to keep himself from digging his nails into your flesh to ground himself and it made a hand of his fall to your leg. His palm was wide and flat against your inner thigh, tracing his lips down your jaw and to your neck to try and distract himself from getting too lost into the feeling.

“Fuck,” he huffed, licking his dry lips as he began to slowly fuck into your closed fist, deaf to the sound of music just outside the bedroom you two were hiding in. The bathroom felt even smaller at this point yet he couldn’t bring himself to put a stop to it now. Especially not when your hand began to fuck his cock faster, with more vigor as he twitched in your hold making his nails dig into your thigh harshly.

Your skirt was scrunched up around your hips at this point and he could see the soft blue of your laced underwear and couldn’t stop himself anymore. He had grown too curious to have you and with his hand so close already, he let his thumb trace along your covered folds.

They were already sensitive at this point and his sudden touch made your insides tighten with arousal, your back straightened in surprise and a light moan left your lips. The sound snapped his attention away from his own pleasure and when he did it again, he swallowed your moan with his mouth on yours.

He couldn’t take thing slow anymore, especially not when his dick felt so close to the edge already and was trying not to cum all over your hand and so soon.

You were withering against him, squirming on the counter to feel more of his hand against your heat. Your fingers tightened in his hair when he reached under to the hem of your panties, pulling them down as far as he could. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he tugged them down your thighs. Jungkook pulled away from your lips with a slight groan as he brought his fingers to your lips. He pressed into your bottom lip watching close as you drew your mouth open and took them in. As you licked between two fingers, your hand’s stroking sped up with more pressure that had him pushing them deeper down your throat.

When he pulled them out there was an obvious line of drool connecting his fingertips to your lips and he brought his hand between your legs once more. The mixture between his rough fingers and the slick that now coated them made a tingle run down your spine when they ran along your folds. You pinched the fabric of his shirt as he circled your hardening clit with his middle finger while his index finger began to tease your sensitive labor.

He ran the longer finger down your slit, dipping into the puddle of arousal that formed at your center before using it to wet your clit and massage you gently.

You looked into his eyes as he finally pressed his middle finger into your waiting cunt, giving you a second to respond and he couldn’t help but let his lips slip open with heavy breaths. Your hand stopped its actions as you took in the feeling of him pulling out his finger before pushing it forward once more. Each time felt hotter than the last and it made him want to take things further. When he thought you adjusted enough, he teased the tip of his ring finger in with his middle one and kept a steady pace of thrusting.

At this point you began to stroke him again, rubbing against his mushroom tip where a thick vein was felt along the underside of it. Your hips had began to move with the motion of his hand and you were fucking his fingers into you while fucking his cock with a closed fist. The both of you were left speechless, unsure how long you had been locked away in the bathroom but not caring either.

You felt more impatient than him but you couldn’t help it. You can’t remember the last time you let someone else touch you and none felt quite like this. Jungkook seemed to know where to kiss, where to press or pay attention to and he never left a part of you untouched. Even now as he thrusted his fingers into you, his other hand was at your chest again, fingers pinching your nipple and tugging harshly but it brought little whines from your lips.

“Jungkook,” You were breathlessly calling for him and you’re sure that if your back wasn’t to the mirror, you would be able to see how desperate you looked to him. Your other hand was on his hips, pulling him forward in hopes of getting him to get the hint that you needed more, “Fuck me.”

“What?” He asked with heavy breaths, looking down at the way the tip of his cock pressed against your inner thigh now, “Really?”

“Please,” You found yourself begging, desperately begging for him to give you something and oh, how it worked.

His eyes rolled back at the soft sound of your begs and with a hand on your thigh, he pulled you harshly to the edge of the counter. He placed his hand over yours and stroked himself once, twice, to slick his member with your arousal and his own.

His cock was hot to the touch and pointed straight to your waiting entrance. He had made such a mess of you already that when he pressed his tip into your clit, it nearly slid down from how wet you are. You had to bite your lip to keep from whining too loud when he teased you with that repeated motion, wetting his tip more and feeling the way your walls tightened and released for him.

Your back was fully against the mirror now, legs open waiting for him and you were getting impatient. The anticipo had been building up for too long and you brought your hand between your legs. All it took was a soft push down for his cock to sink into your waiting pussy.

His jaw went slack at the sudden tightness of it, he hadn’t expected it to be so snug. His tip barely pushed against the ring of nerves and your facial expression matched his own when he kept going. He held your thighs open, guiding himself in with a deep breath.

“Fucking hell,” he growled lowly, hands trembling as he kept you open and ready to take him in. He looked up at your eyes, completely enamored by the way your features softened with pleasure. Your eyes were glazed over with obvious lust that made him want to just fuck you into oblivion.

“Oh my god,” your hand circled around his neck, pulling him into a sloppy wet kiss that left him biting your lip softly. He groaned against your lips as he picked up the pace of his thrusting, letting his cock drag against your puffy walls so that you could feel every juncture on his length. Your back was arched into him, your chest nearly pressed against his and he snuck his arm around your waist to pull you firmly against him.

“That’s it baby,” Jungkook groaned into your ear, gripping onto the counter with his free hand to fuck you better. You were on the edge of the sink and he bucked his hips up to reach that pleasure spot he had found with his fingers just moments ago and had you moaned loudly into his ear, “You sound pretty, tell me how it feels.”

“Feels good,” you whispered softly against his neck, lips teasing kisses against his skin that made the veins in his arms bulge, “Don’t stop, please.”

“Ngh, Y/n, beg for me,” Jungkook said with a deep voice filled with lust as he fucked you with all his strength. There were too many layers of clothing between you but neither of you seemed to have the time or energy to tear them off. You were both too focused on the pleasure that came from feeling his skin against yours.

Your legs tightened around his waist forcing more of his length into your sopping cunt and his fingers pinched your sides roughly. Without thinking, Jungkook lifted you off the counter. You clung to him as he stepped back and he needed a second to just feel the way your pussy tightened around his hard, thick cock. He wanted to dig into your guts and it was nasty how badly he wanted to have you cum all over him.

It was so unexpected because you always came off as a quiet, reserved person but here you were letting him tear you in two with his fat dick. Jungkook used his strength to push you against the door, letting you drop onto his length before backing his hips up and pistoning them back into you.

“Fuck, I can’t,” your legs tightened around him with your face digging into his neck, “Jungkook, baby, I can’t.”

“You can,” He whispered, pressing you firmly into the wall, “Come on baby, take it.”

“Too much,” You whined, squeezing your eyes shut as he picked up the pace and you searched around for something to hold. Your hand tightened around the doorknob, trying to anchor yourself as he fucked you so good you could barely focus on anything but the pleasure, “I’m so close.”

Jungkook’s hand held you firmly by the waist while the other cupped your ass, groping you harshly as he fucked you onto his length trying to make you cum, “Cum baby, for me. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you moaned, “Kiss me, please?”

He didn’t hesitate to do so, kissing you with tongue as you clung to him, moaning into his ear and shaking slightly. His knees buckled tightly to hold you up and just as he gave one final thrust to the hilt, he felt your orgasm hit you.

Your walls tightened around him, nearly bringing him to his own orgasm before feeling his tip get flooded with your release. His thighs shook with the pressure of it and he felt his strength leaving him. His abdomen grew tense and he pushed you back to the counter where you let your head fall back with pleasure. You swallowed dryly, panting heavily, “Oh my god.”

You were sweaty, tired and overall unsure what to think but your mind hadn’t cleared yet. All you could focus on was the way Jungkook’s dick throbbed painfully hard when he pulled out of you with a slight pop. You eyed his red member, slightly hypnotized by how pretty it looked and you dropped to your knees wordlessly.

Jungkook watched you slip down on your knees in front of him and it took him a moment to process what was going on. He was hard, so fucking hard he couldn’t think straight and it wasn’t until your hands held his thighs, eyeing his cock hungrily did he realize what you wanted to do. He brought a hand fo attempt and gently brush your hair back, “Y/n, baby, you don’t have t—oh fuck.”

His jaw went slack when your hands circled his base, your lips on his tip and taking him down your throat suddenly. Your nose brushed against the base of his cock, eyes watering as you tried relaxing your throat around him and he nearly stumbled back with surprise, “Y/n.”

You ignored his call of your name, and began to bob your head against his length, your tongue licking along the thick vein you discovered earlier and feeling his hands sink into your hair to guide you, “That’s it, fuck.”

Jungkook looked at his reflection in the mirror, turned on by the way your head was seen bobbing against his length and his body was overheating so much he had to pull his shirt over his toned chest to cool down. It gave him a perfect view of the way his cock disappeared between your lips.

The thought of having you like this hadn’t dawned on him yet but now he couldn’t forget it. The memory would always be ingrained in his mind and although he doesn’t know if he’ll never get a chance to do this again, he couldn’t hold it in any longer.

You gradually began to pick up the pace, using your hands to hold closed fists around his cock to help stroke what didn’t fit in your mouth. You swallowed and bobbed around his dick hungrily, moaning around him and hollowing your cheeks when you would pull your head back until only his tip was between your lips.

As ashamed as he was to admit it, he wasn’t going to be able to hold himself back anymore. Still wanting to warn you, he tried to guide your head off him, “I’m close.”

All it did was push you to take him deeper, stopping when he hit the back of your throat and sucked. Jungkook’s eyes squeezed shut with a loud growl as his orgasm hit him harder than it had in a very long time.

You coughed as his cum sprayed down your throat, thick and creamy with a bittersweet taste that you tried to lick up. You would’ve cleaned him off fully despite his legs shaking but he pulled you off. He pulled his softening dick out of your wet mouth with a huff, panting heavily as he looked down at you.

“Y/n,” his voice was dry, pulling you up to your feet, “That was…”

He couldn’t even get the words out as he watched you lick the corner of your lips and without thinking about it, he pulled you into a heated kiss. You kissed him back with need, moaning against him as his tongue circled around yours hungrily, not caring for the way he tased on you. You only broke away to catch your breath, realization dawning at you as you looked at his messy appearance that surely mirrored yours.

You sat against the counter for a moment, attempting to catch your breath as Jungkook did the same. The two of you were silently readjusting your clothes again and you needed just a moment to yourself. He looked at you, buttoning his jeans back up, “Is everything… okay?”

“Yeah, um, can I just get a minute,” You said with a hoarse voice trying to pretend like you couldn’t see the way his shoulders slumped down. With a short nod of his head, he left the bathroom to let you wash up and for a moment you just looked at yourself in the mirror.

Your reflection looked different, maybe because what you had just done was so out of character and with your best friend’s ex but… why did it feel right?

Jungkook wondered what would happen now, if you expected him to leave the room or wait for you but he wanted to be with you. He didn’t want to walk out and think that because he got something he’s been wanting for years now, he’ll just leave. He knows the others are looking for him, mostly because he’s gotten a few texts now asking where he’s at but he can’t bring it in himself to care. When you opened the bathroom door into the dark room, he looked like a deer caught in headlights, rushing to his feet, “Are you sure everything is fine?”

“Yeah, yes,” you nodded stiffly, “If you want to go out there with everyone else that’s fine. I won’t be upset or anything.”

“Well, I was kind of wondering if you wanted to come back to mine?”

The first thing you noticed the following morning aside from the sun shining down on your face was the heavy arm across your waist. It made your eyes flutter awake with a small huff leaving your lips as you attempted to stretch your limbs but it tightened around you, securing you closer to Jungkook’s naked chest.

“Morning,” he mumbled sleepily into your hair as he hugged you closer.

“What time is it?” You asked awkwardly, trying to sit up making his arm slide to your hips instead. You reached for your cell phone, eyes widening by the number of text messages.

miyoung: bye I was drunkkkkkk 😳

miyoung: did I 🤮 at all?

miyoung: r u alive

miyoung: helloooooooo

A quiet sigh escaped your lips as you read it over. Either she couldn’t remember how upset she was in the car or she’s going to pretend like nothing at all happened.

God, what did you do?

“Y/n,” Jungkook grumbled tiredly, “Lay back down.”

“I should go,” You bit your lip nervously. If Miyoung forgot what happened last night then maybe she forgot about Jungkook asking you and won’t know you… slept with him. Fuck, were you a bad friend?

He dated your best friend and dumped her out of the blue making it obvious he wanted nothing to do with her and here you are letting him fuck you in the bathroom. What did that make you? You had a poor lapse of judgment last night, you acted out of character and hadn’t been behaving like yourself at all.

“Why?” He sat up suddenly, “You don’t work today, right? Why don’t we go grab breakfast—well, brunch.”

You looked down at him, unable to stop yourself from taking in his appearance. He had bed hair, no shirt on and his blanket draped over his waist. He failed to take off his jewelry last night so he still wears silver chain necklaces around his neck and leather bracelets. You couldn’t possibly spend time with him still. It wasn’t right, right?

Just as you were ready to give him your answer, your phone began to vibrate with an incoming call. You looked down at the screen and a picture of you and Miyoung displayed on the screen that had Jungkook huffing quietly and laying back down, close to giving up.

In all honesty, you weren’t in the mood to talk to her. It still bothered you by how harsh she was last night but there’s a chance she doesn’t even remember and… “Hello?”

“Tell me why I have a raging headache when I barely drank last night?” Miyoung said immediately once the call went through, “It’s your fault y’know for upsetting me.”

You couldn’t see her but she was walking on a treadmill in her apartment acting like everything was completely normal. Jungkook didn’t care for your conversation either but he was focused on the way you looked first thing in the morning.

You looked cute, undeniably cute with circles under your eyes and a disheveled appearance. You wore an oversized shirt of his so you wouldn’t have to sleep in such uncomfortable clothes and he loved it. You looked good in his clothes.

Without thinking, he sat up and pressed his lips to yours in a short and surprising kiss. You flinched back with confusion, nearly dropping your phone in the process but he backed away with a small smile. You tried to glare at him but you couldn’t stop from smiling and it annoyed you when he placed a gentle kiss against your neck that made you feel flustered. You almost forgot you were on the phone when he leaned in for a kiss again and one you would surely grant.

“But I forgive you,” Miyoung said suddenly.

“What?”

“I forgive you, I’m over it,” Miyoung said with a shrug you couldn’t see, “Our friendship means more to me than Jungkook and I know you would never do anything that you know would upset me so… it’s whatever. In the past.”

“Wait,” You held up a hand to Jungkook as you said it to the both of them, “When did I apologize?”

He stopped immediately, looking at you with concern as Miyoung went on, “I mean, we both know you were going to. I’m just letting you know it’s alright.”

“No, Miyoung, I wasn’t going to,” you couldn’t help but scoff, “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

Technically.

Jungkook raised his brows, surprised by your tone and a little turned on? Was that okay to say?

“I didn’t mean it like that, but you know… you were flirting with the guy who dumped me,” Miyoung said, “It’s fine, whatever, you want to flirt with Jungkook, I don’t care anymore I just thought I meant more to you as a friend.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment as you looked down at Jungkook who couldn’t seem to go more than a minute without attention. He had your free hand in his measuring your size difference and you released a sigh, “You know what, I’m kind of busy right now so I’ll call you later.”

Miyoung wasn’t able to get a word in before you ended the call, turning your attention to Jungkook, “You’re getting me in trouble, sir.”

“I’m terribly sorry,” he said, biting back a grin, “How should I make it up to you? Brunch?”

“You’re still thinking about that?” You asked with a slight laugh.

It was strange trying not to let your best friend’s feelings bring you down too.

“I’m hungry,” Jungkook said, hand on his toned stomach for detail.

“I don’t have clothes or, I don’t know, a toothbrush,” you couldn’t help but sound sarcastic, falling back on the bed with an arm on his chest.

“Don’t worry, I got you.”

In the end you caved to his incessant begging and found yourself dressed as casual as ever with an oversized tee and the skirt you wore last night clashing horribly. The only thing that had you regretting it was what stood [parked] in front of you.

“You’re not serious, are you?” You asked as you watched him walk up to you with a helmet in his hands, “I can’t get on that.”

“You can,” Jungkook said, putting it over your head, “I’m a very safe driver.”

“What about your car?” You asked nervously as he buckled[?] you into the head gear, “Can’t we just go in that.”

“We can but that won’t impress you,” Jungkook snorted a laugh as he got his own helmet on, “Come on Y/n, I won’t kill you, don’t worry.”

With a small sigh you nodded, letting him lead you to the bike and he swung a leg over to straddle it and patted the seat right behind him. Frankly, you didn’t care that you were in a skirt. You know that there’s an appropriate way for people in skirts to straddle something but you cared more about living so you straddled it the way he did. Jungkook couldn’t help but smile as he felt the softer touch of your hands on his waist and without saying a word, he pulled you into him suddenly. Your chest was pressed to his back and your arms snug around his waist.

“Atta girl, no time to be shy now,” he chuckled, feeling you smack his arm playfully.

If he were being honest, he liked this side of you. He’s never seen it before and it was breathtaking and enjoyable. Before when you were just classmates you were still stand offish from him and the only night he got you to open up was the first time he ran into you and met Miyoung. It was short lived and once he dated her, he rarely got to see you alone.

When he got back, you would barely even look at him yet whatever spurred last night’s events seemed to open up new possibilities for you two. You haven’t talked about what happened but he’s expecting it almost excitedly.

Jungkook’s hand ran up your thighs, securing you to him as he started up the motorcycle, feeling the smoothness of your leg and teasing the end of your skirt with a small tug, “Ready?”

He felt you squeeze harder before taking off.

The cafe was small and filled with warmth making this feel oddly close to a date… which is probably because it was? You’re still not sure how to take it.

“Did I really get you in trouble?” Jungkook asked as he cut his breakfast sandwich in half before doing the same with yours. When you looked at him he looked concerned by the notion. You didn’t have to ask to know what he was referring to and you couldn’t help but sigh, “Not really, sorry, it was more my fault than any—“

“Why though?” Jungkook cut you off, “Why is it always your fault? You can’t talk to me now?”

“You know we didn’t just talk,” you bit your lip nervously. You couldn’t meet his gaze and he didn’t like that.

He huffed in annoyance, “But she doesn’t know, or does she? I mean, what does it matter?”

“You dated. She’s my best friend and it bothers her, I already feel guilty for what happened last night—not that I regret it, don’t get me wrong but… well, it’s just confusing and it upsets her,” You rambled, still defending Miyoung even when she was slowly getting under your skin.

“We dated so long ago, it was such a short fling,” Jungkook said with a laugh as he went back to eating, “And she dumped me so why does it matter if you and I get together?”

“I don’t know, I just… she’s my best frie—wait, what did you say?” You met his stare suddenly making him set down his coffee cup to answer.

“She dumped me so why can’t you and I…” he stopped. Did you mean for him to repeat the part about being with you? Did you want him to say it again, maybe use the right words this time?

Why is he saying Miyoung dumped him? You remember the day exactly.

Miyoung called you while you were studying in the library late one night, not fully in tears but clearly under duress and she couldn’t stop herself from letting her emotions get to her. She went on to tell you how Jungkook dumped her suddenly over a phone call because he wasn’t interested anymore and was just using her or something.

You remember because you left the library to go comfort her and you almost ran into him on campus and he wouldn’t even look you in the eye…

He dumped her because he got bored, that’s why she asked you to stop talking to him. He was just like every other guy according to her and you owed her the promise to avoid him. It was you who introduced them anyway and…

Why is it that any guy you’ve ever thought you’ve liked would fall for her instead, only to dump her and in return make her ask you to not speak to them again?

Jungkook wasn’t the first so when she asked you to avoid him, it bothered you a little but you soon got over it and did as told.

You always do as told without questioning it.

“You broke up with her.”

He chuckled, shaking his head no, “I was going to but she beat me to it. I don’t know how honest you want me to be this early in the day.”

“Tell me,” you urged him on.

“I wanted to break up with her but I had this sick feeling that I wasn’t going to be able to talk to you as much anymore or it would be awkward so I stuck it out,” Jungkook said it with a shrug, “But then she dumped me and suddenly you won’t even look at me so it was worse for me, I guess.”

Your eyebrows stitched together with confusion, “What are you saying? Why did you care if I talked to you or not? You went for Miyoung the second you met her—“

“That’s not true, actually,” Jungkook confessed, deciding if you wanted honesty he would give it even if it embarrassed him, “I wanted you.”

“And when I met her, I was obviously there at the bar trying to talk to you but she kept butting in and next thing I know, you were off talking to Yoongi and ignoring me,” Jungkook went on, “To be honest, I was kind of insecure back then, like really insecure and I was trying to get you to notice me but everytime someone would cu—“

“Jungkook, stop, I just… no, you did not like me, you dated Miyoung,” You cut him off, fidgeting in your seat anxiously, “It’s fine, it’s in the past.”

“No it’s not fine and I asked how honest you wanted me to be and you told me to tell you so I’m going to,” Jungkook said more seriously, “I was insecure, alright? I had just moved to the city and I shared class with this pretty, incredibly smart girl who would barely give me any time of day. Honestly it was kind of depressing, I was kinda depressed at the time and I needed a boost to talk to you so I asked Miyoung and… she said you were into someone else so I was pretty bummed out. Then she’s kind of just everywhere and she actually tries to talk to me so when she asks me out, I say yes but I realize I still have to see you.”

“And I liked being around you even though I probably shouldn’t have because technically I was dating her at this point and I realized that I practically screwed up whatever chance I might have had with you,” Jungkook couldn’t stop himself anymore. He was saying whatever was on his mind, barely giving you time to process any of it before continuing, “Yes, I know it’s fucked up because whenever I thought it might work and I might catch real feelings for her, you would came around and they just went out the window. So it was getting harder and harder to keep pretending and I wanted to break up with her but I was worried you wouldn’t talk to me anymore.”

“She beat me to it and dumped me because she was bored and I was relieved, honestly, but then I see you on campus and you can’t even look at me anymore,” Jungkook cleared his throat, “Then life went on, I moved away, moved back, ran into you again and…”

“And what?” You asked breathlessly, lips dry and completely frozen in your seat.

He looked at you warmly, “I found you, everything just came back and I knew I didn’t want to lose you a second time. I wanted to ask you out the first night at the bar but you didn’t even want to talk to me so I tried again last night and you were so ready to blow me off when Miyoung came along. I don’t know what made you come back to the party and I don’t want you thinking I’m some sleazy guy who acts like that with just anyone. I was just… it was unexpected and I had been waiting years for something to happen between us.”

Suddenly, this didn’t feel like an easy brunch inside a warm and cozy cafe anymore. In all honesty, it felt a little suffocating now and you don’t know how to explain it, but you didn’t want to be here. So much has just been thrown at you and you don’t think you can handle it all.

What did he mean that he liked you first?

Why had Miyoung told him you were into someone else? You learned to stop sharing who you liked with her so long ago and had never once told her anything like that in school. Why couldn’t she just have asked you? Why did she ask him out after he made it known he wanted you?

You don’t care that he said yes, that really was in the past for you. Now you’re more focused on why someone who was supposed to be your best friend would act so sneaky? What did she gain from it?

Why did she lie and say he dumped her? Was it just so she can paint him as a villain and make you not want to talk to him anymore? Why would she do that?

“Y/n?” He called your name waiting for you to respond to him but you just sat there stunned, “I’m sorry, I know I was a piece of shit for dating her when I wanted you bu—Y/n.”

Your mind is filled with questions that you couldn’t answer and it was overwhelming. The cafe felt suddenly overwhelming and you just had to get out of there, so you did.

“Earth to Y/n, I don’t know how long you plan on ignoring the world but I know you’re not too busy with work to ignore your friends.”

Tacky, Taehyung was so very tacky leaving a concerning voicemail. Who left voicemails these days?

And he was being dramatic, he’s acting like you’ve fallen off the face of the Earth but that’s not true. You’ve just been holed up at either the office or your home for the past week, avoiding any call or text from anyone so you could be alone with your thoughts.

Alright it’s been over a week, almost two and maybe it is a little concerning but you’re telling yourself you’re just being dramatic.

“Y/n you better open the door before I break it down,” Taehyung’s muffled voice boomed from the other side of your front door and you begrudgingly went to let him in.

“Relax, I’m not dead,” You muttered under your breath as you let him in.

“Damn near!” Taehyung said loudly as he let himself through the door, “What is up with you? You haven’t responded to any text I was beginning to get worried.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled as you flopped down onto your couch, “I’ve just been tired.”

“Too tired to answer the phone?” Taehyung asked sitting down next to you, “Miyoung, I get. Ignore her all you want but me? What did I ever do to you? What’s up with you? I haven’t talked to you since the party. Did something happen?”

With a small sigh, you let your head rest against the back of the couch, “I slept with Jungkook.”

“Really?” Taehyung seemed genuinely surprised, “So fallout with Miyoung I’m assuming? Look, I personally don’t get why you try to make her happy but she’ll get over it. Did you like it? Like him?”

“Yes, I don’t know, I’m confused, I don’t know what to believe anymore,” you admitted, “And I feel so dumb because this shouldn’t be a big deal.”

“Alright well I need you to rewind and explain things better so my pea brain can handle it,” Taehyung made himself comfortable, “You’ve gone Ghost for over a week, I want to know why. Was it because of Jungkook? Miyoung? If you think sleeping with him makes you a bad friend the—“

“She’s a liar,” you cut in, “And it shouldn’t bother me so much because she’s my best friend but that’s why it bothers me, Tae. I’ve known her for so long, and I’ve always tried to be a good friend to her but it was never enough. So I tried harder and harder because who else would be there for me like her but… now that I’m looking back on it, I don’t think she’s ever cared about me as much as I care about her and it sucks, honestly.”

Taehyung wanted to tell you so many people cared about you but he wanted you to say whatever you needed to say first.

“You know what Jungkook said? He said Miyoung knew he apparently liked me before and still asked him out—and lied about how I felt about him,” You said, “And okay, why would I fight over a guy with my best friend but now that I’m thinking about it… it’s fucked up right? She lied that he dumped her and begged me to avoid him. You saw how she acted the other night just because he talked to me. What was that about?”

You weren’t going to go into full detail about the past because you owed Jungkook enough to not tell Taehyung about everything he said but he needed context.

“And I know it’s in the past so I should just move on but I can’t,” You admitted, “I still like him but if I… I get with him Miyoung would never let me forget that she dated him first, even if he liked me. It’s just all so confusing and overwhelming and it sucks that I’m letting it get to me like this but… it’s not fair.”

Once again, Taehyung didn’t say anything but he could tell you were feeling emotional by the way your voice began to shake.

“I like him, and not in the way I liked him before but I like this new him too, and it’s not fair that even if she lied or even if she snaps at me about shit that doesn’t matter, I will still feel guilty,” You finished.

“Y/n,” Taehyung cleared his throat, “Obviously I don’t know everything that happened back then but… I think that if you feel for him what he feels for you, it shouldn’t matter what she says. And honestly, I just… I wish you could see that there are so many people who care about you so much and you don’t have to put up with being belittled by someone who is supposed to be your best friend just because you have history. It doesn’t matter if it’s in the past, if it’s upsetting you now then clearly it still matters so don’t try to downplay your emotions.”

“But she’s my best friend,” your lip quivered.

“Then what am I?” He forced his lip to quiver as well.

“You’re my best friend too,” you sniffled.

Taehyung mimicked your expression, “Then as your best friend, I’m telling you to stop trying to make excuses for people who don’t treat you right—and go fix it with this guy.”

“Bu—“

“Y/n, I know you,” Taehyung sighed, “And I know that you’re not going to do anything if you think it upsets her but she doesn’t deserve a friend like you. You deserve to go be with whoever you want. I don’t care about what she says and at this point neither should you. I know that right now it’s confusing and you’re overwhelmed but if you’ve been ignoring me you’ve been ignoring him—I hope because if it’s just me that’s cold—and if the girl I had feelings for ghosted me… I’d be hurt.”

Jungkook was not hurt. He was… y'know, perfectly fine and that’s what he kept telling himself. It’s not like you made any real sign of feeling something for him too after hooking up and maybe that had just been a casual, one time thing. He can handle that, he’s grown.

Sure, he sort of spilled his damn heart out to you just for you to storm off on him and not reach out to him in days but he’s not bothered by it at all. That’s why when his two closest friends called Saturday night asking him to go clubbing… he said yes.

It was a chance to possibly let it go, forget it even, but it wasn’t easy. He was aware that he was possibly reading too into what happened the other night but could you blame him? You’re suddenly all about him and spend the night at his place where you wake up in his arms before going out to eat. It was like the perfect set up for a what if yet it went all wrong. Clearly it was his fault for being hopeful.

“So who else did you say is meeting us here?” Jungkook asked Hoseok for confirmation as he passed him a drink. The music played loudly in his eardrums that it was borderline painful and he wanted to leave more than anything but there was that stupid what if in his head.

“Jimin’s joining later on and so is Namjoon and his girl,” Hoseok said as he made sure everyone else had what they ordered, “Oh, and Y/n too, I think.”

“Y/n?” Jungkook tried clarifying. Hoseok smiled, “I know, it’s weird, Y/n seriously rarely comes out but all of a sudden she’s starting to more. I mean, lately she has, probably since around the time you got back?”

Jungkook let his friend go off to do whatever he wanted while he stood there seemingly frozen. Tonight would be the first time in days that he sees you—talks to you—and he’s not sure how to handle it. There’s nothing he can do about it either because he hasn’t confided in anyone yet but it’s painfully obvious that he’s waiting for you.

Yoongi noticed first, like he usually did, and tried talking to him, “What’s up with you? You’ve been antsy since the party, will you finally tell me where you ran off to?”

“Yeah man, don’t think we didn’t notice when you disappeared,” Jin said with a slight wink, “We just want to know with who.”

“Y/n.”

He could see you from the corner of his eye when you joined them at a table they had found. You came with Jimin by your side and a shy smile on your face. He assumed it was Hoseok who had screamed your name considering how he hogged your attention with a huge grin and Jungkook felt nervous all of a sudden.

As embarrassing as it was, Jungkook had nearly forgotten what he was asked until he looked back at Yoongi and Jin who looked at him expectantly. A nervous laugh escaped his lips as he shrugged, “Did you guys miss me too much?”

“Sneaky guy, don’t change the subject,” Jin laughed before letting Jungkook shift his attention back to you, making it painfully obvious where he was focused.

You felt a little nervous to be out tonight but after what you had talked about with Taehyung, you knew he was right. You acted strange with Jungkook after he opened up his side of things to you and it was plain wrong. Part of you isn’t even sure if he’s actually interested or not since he didn’t reach out to you this week and it made you wonder if he was really upset.

And if he was, would that mean that he didn’t want to speak to you?

“I need a drink,” you mumbled to yourself more than to the others but it made a good excuse to at least try. You looked at Jungkook for the first time since you got there and cleared your throat to awkwardly ask, “Jungkook, do you mind going with me?”

“Get me another, will ya?” Yoongi asked with a sudden wink that made Jungkook do a double take. Was he winking over the drink or him leaving with you?

He nodded his head in response and without question followed you to the bar once more. The bar was packed from all sides and Jungkook had to fight his way to the counter working as a barrier from people pushing at you. If he were to be honest, he wanted to skip the questions and get close to you again but he had to stay strong. He needed answers, right?

“Are we good?” Was the only thing he could think to ask.

You looked at him warmly, sitting down on the stool at the counter with him standing close to you, his hand itching to reach for you. Your lip caught between your teeth as you nodded, “Are we?”

For some reason he didn’t expect to be asked that back. It made him wonder if he thought you were. It was undeniably embarrassing to have you walk out on him like that after he thought it had been going good but did that mean he was truly upset with you?

“Yeah,” he nodded stiffly, blinking nervously and looking to the bartender who noticed them a while ago but had to attend to earlier customers first, “But uh, I guess I am just a little confused by it all. Did I do something to upset you? Was it what I said?”

“No, no, I’m sorry, it wasn’t you,” You blurted out, “It was me, I wasn’t thinking straight and I feel really bad about leaving like that.”

“Then why didn’t you just call or even text me?” Jungkook asked honestly, “I… I think that’s what bothered me the most.”

You looked down at your hands, “I'm sorry. I didn’t talk to anyone, seriously, and I did think about reaching out to you but I don’t know, I’m really bad at explaining things.”

“Well can you try? I know it was sudden but I thought it had been going good,” Jungkook said and the longer he tried getting to the bottom of this, the more annoyed he felt that you couldn’t just say it, “I think I’ve made it clear now how I feel about you and all I’m asking is for you to do the same.”

“I—yes,” you stumbled over your words, “I mean, I’m trying to be clear now but I’m doing a shit job at it. I did have a good time with you but it was honestly, really out of character for me to yknow… and then the whole Miyoung thing and I’m sorry but it was just a lot all at once. It’s definitely not fair to you that I acted that way, but I do have feelings for you.”

He let out a sigh, feeling unsure how to take it and stuck between wanting to smile in relief and wanting to be upset. You didn’t text him, nothing. How is that fair? He wanted to reach out to you but after the way you left he thought he would just make it worse if he kept bothering you. The bartender finally got to you two and he let you speak first as he tried gathering his thoughts a little more.

“But what does this mean?” Jungkook asked now, “I want you and you want me, right? So, what does this mean Y/n because right now I’m still confused by it all. If it’s because of Miyoung then—“

“No, it’s not, honestly,” You said, reaching for him, pinching the bottom of his shirt between your fingers to pull him toward you, “I don't care what she thinks anymore, I like you and I should have just said that from the beginning.”

The pull was harsh and had him looking down with his lips slightly parted in surprise, “Y/n, you’re not being fair.”

You knew it. You knew you probably ruined your chance now and coming to see him had just been a waste. You nearly let go of him when he continued, “You can’t ignore me and walk out on me and then just tell me you want me too, expecting everything to be fine.”

He had to be tough. He can’t just let it go even though you’re saying everything he wants to hear.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” you said with a slight frown, “I can leave if you want me to.”

“Ugh,” he groaned, unable to help himself anymore as he closed the distance between you two. He circled an arm around you and pulled you into a hug, “Why would I want you to leave when I’ve been waiting for you to get here?”

“What?” You asked, hands finding his waist as he held you, “I thought you were mad.”

“I was,” Jungkook said, “So you don’t know how annoyed I am with myself right now. All it takes is for you to sweet talk me a bit and give me those eyes of yours for me to fold, that’s embarrassing.”

“Jungkook,” you said, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have walked out like that. I should have texted you and if you want to be mad, I get it. If you want to think it over an—“

“And what if I don’t?” He asked looking down at your pouty lips and glossy eyes, “What if I just want to let it go and be with you without any more problems? Can I do that?”

His tone was surprisingly firm and you couldn’t do anything but nod, “Okay.”

It didn’t change the fact that you still felt bad because it seemed like you were being let off the hook easily but what else could you do? Jungkook really did seem ready to move past it and that’s why you came here in the first place. You just hadn’t expected it to be so easy and it made you feel bad.

When your drinks were ready, you opened up a tab despite his protests to just put it on his and the two of you got back to the group like nothing had happened. There was still a lot that needed to be talked about before you told anyone about what happened but it’s not like they were all oblivious.

Jimin, for instance, had been keeping an eye on you two at the bar since you left and had seen the majority of your conversation but he didn’t bring it up. Instead he watched silently for your little glances in each other’s direction and shy smiles. It was obvious to Yoongi too that Jungkook was in a much better mood now than earlier and it wasn’t hard for him to figure out why.

Perhaps for the same reason you had suddenly started joining them more often, being more comfortable too.

It had been a slow start for the two of you after the night at the club. Neither one of you seemed to want to rush into things but at times there was a strong pull. Tonight was going to be your first official date but you were keeping that information to your friends until you figure out if this works or not.

Jungkook picked you up from your apartment and drove to a nice restaurant where the two of you sat for dinner. He was very attentive to you, making sure your glass was always full and all your needs met and it was a surprisingly good feeling to be taken care of this way. You’ve dated in the past but you can’t say you’ve always chosen the right ones. You had a tendency to lean toward the ones who were overly forward with you because in your mind there was no doubt they liked you.

At first it would be nice but then you would realize that it was more of a conquering feeling to them than actually wanting to be with you and you would be left heartbroken. That’s part of why you rarely put yourself out there.

Jungkook is different though, he always has been. When you first met him he was forward but aloof. You never expected him to actually like you because you couldn’t see the signs clearly and the way things turned out it just never worked. Now that he’s been back he’s almost like an entirely different person in the sense that he’s ready to go for what he wants and it’s sort of admirable.

If you had been able to do that back then maybe you would have had him sooner but there was no point in dwelling in the past. He was here now and so were you. Honestly, knowing that there's something that’s been brewing between you two for a long time made it easier to feel confident around him.

“Why are you so pretty?” Jungkook couldn’t help but ask even if his mouth was full. He was trying not to smile too as he said that.

“Oh my god,” You felt your face heat up, tempted to hide behind your hand. It took you a moment to think of a response and it was surprising for the both of you to hear you say, “Why are you?”

Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly in hopes of not seeming too affected by your words. It didn’t work and he broke out into a grin, “I wasn’t expecting that.”

Dinner was filled with small flirting here and there. It’s crazy how well you and him seemed to get along when you stopped worry about other things. He made you smile, really smile and you made him feel giddy whenever he talked to you. He wanted to spend his night with you and nobody else.

“Are we going to meet with everyone else after this?” You asked as he pulled your chair out for you and you got up from the table. After some back and forth arguing, he eventually took care of the bill despite your protests and the night felt near its finish much to your disappointment.

It was the weekend and you’ve been trying to go out with your friends more and they had asked to meet up later—but both you and Jungkook had to tell them maybe.

“Do we have to?” He asked, taking your bag in one hand and holding yours with the other, “You think they’ll get a little suspicious if we’re both gone?”

You walked with him across the restaurant toward the entrance. You weren’t paying much attention to the people you passed, “I’m sure they know.”

Your response surprised him a bit and he couldn’t help but ask, “Really? Has it been that obvious?”

“Yeah, Jimin called me out on it the other night,” you shrugged, reaching for your bag to look for chapstick while he led you to the front. You couldn’t meet his eyes because you sensed where this was going.

“What’d he say?” Jungkook asked slowing his pace for you.

You blinked nervously, distracting yourself with your lipbalm as you tried sounding casual, “He asked why we were being so sneaky at the bar.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened slightly, opening the door for you as he said, “Damn, what did you say?”

“I said because we’re together.”

You tried being slick about it and slide past him without much attention but it was useless. He stood in front of you with a smile on his face, “Oh, we are? I don’t remember you clarifying that. Can you remind me when you asked me to be your man?”

“Oh god, don’t act like that,” you whined shyly.

“I’m sorry baby, I gotta hear you say it with your own words. What’d you tell him?” Jungkook blocked your path, hands finding your waist and keeping you from running. He liked making you flustered and you had no idea how you left him with a racing heart.

You pouted, looking at him seriously, “Jungkook.”

The two of you stood outside the restaurant looking like a playful couple that maybe had one too many drinks but it was all Jungkook’s fault. He wouldn’t let it go to rest and even had the nerve to smirk as he teasingly said, “That’s not how you say ‘Boyfriend’.”

“You’re ridiculous, we talked about this,” you said, focused on his chest to hide your embarrassment.

Jungkook just grinned mischievously, “What did you tell him?”

“I said you were my boyfriend,” you mumbled into his chest.

“Your what?” He asked trying to step back and get a good look at your face, “Come on baby, don’t get shy on me now.”

You whined, “Jung—“

“Your what?” He was laughing now, not caring for whoever might pass them and stare because he felt good. Too good to be affected by a stranger’s judgement.

“My boyfriend,” you sighed with embarrassment, “You heard me the first time, goof.”

“That’s what I thought, alright, you ready to go?” He asked with a chuckled as he took your hand in his ready to walk with you to the car.

“Y/n?”

You both stopped in your step, wondering if it really was your name you had heard. You looked back toward the rest, eyes threatening to widen with surprise as you looked at the person who stood at the entrance. She was with a group of people all headed inside but when she saw you, she stopped.

“Miyoung, hey,” You cleared your throat awkwardly, your demeanor changing completely.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” She asked as her eyes trailed behind you where Jungkook was looking at you with worry and confusion. He wanted to make sure everything would be alright, knowing how Miyoung would react. He didn’t want your good night to be ruined over something petty.

“What do you mean? I’m uh, I was just having dinner,” you said stiffly, looking back at Jungkook which proved to be a mistake because it seemed to solidify his presence to her.

“With jungkook?” She asked with a snappy tone. Miyoung shooed away her friends, telling them to go in without her as she approached you.

“Yeah.”

“Why?” Her brow arched with amusement, clearly ticked off and in disbelief by what she saw before her. Like usual, the situation seemed much worse than it really was.

It was time for you to be up front. What’s the point in putting yourself out there and letting yourself open up to him if you wouldn’t have the courage to make it known? You swallowed dryly, “Because we’re… dating.”

Jungkook had stepped back from the situation, not wanting to worsen it so he stood off by a light post not too far for a smoke break. He tried distracting himself with lighting his cigarette but he couldn’t help but freeze up when you said that. It brought a shy smile to his face as he waited for you to finish.

“No, you’re not,” Miyoung scoffed looking back at Jungkook as if betrayed by him too. You blinked with confusion, what did she mean you’re not? Did she expect you to be joking or back down? “We are.”

Miyoung stood in front of you now, slightly taller, “Y/n, you’ve been ignoring me for weeks and now you’re saying you’re dating my ex boyfriend? What kind of friend are you?”

This time it was you who scoffed lightly, looking away from her to try and process what you would say but you had spent too much time already trying to think it over, “The thing is, um, I’ve been kind of wondering the same about you.”

“Me?” She looked down at you genuinely taken back, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat and tried to gather the courage to just say it. You could feel Jungkook around, listening but giving you space and it was like a push start for you to say what was really on your mind, “I’m just tired of feeling like I’m the only one who puts effort into being friends and I don’t see the point in always fighting. We’re not together, we don’t have to be friends if it always has to be some sort of argument. It’s getting tiring at this point and I think maybe it’s best we just distance ourselves from each other.”

“You’re kidding, right? I’m like the only person who really cares about you, Y/n. Don’t act stupid.”

Although that made Jungkook want to intervene and tell her how very wrong she was, he didn’t. He didn’t want to speak for you. He knew you could speak for yourself and he should let you, even if he was itching to cut in.

“No, I don’t think you are. I know you think you are so you always tell me you are, but you’re not. People like me for me and not just because I’m friends with you,” you said coldly and your tone was definitive it left her speechless. It had to be one of the first times you were ever remotely close to snappy with her and she didn’t expect it.

“I know it’s hard for you to think of me as my own person but I don’t have to do what you want,” You said, “And I think you only boss me around and act sneaky behind my back because you’re threatened by me.”

She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. What you said left her rendered quiet. You waited too, waited to see if she would tell you to stand down but she didn’t and you didn’t give her time too, “ But I think I should go, I don’t want to bother your dinner any longer—and uh, maybe we just shouldn’t contact each other anymore.”

Jungkook had forgotten about his smoke break, jaw nearly to the floor at how confident you sounded. It was obvious you had never spoken to Miyoung that way but she couldn’t even deny what you said. You did it so casually and like you couldn’t care less which made you seem mature compared to Miyoung’s tantrums.

“Why was that kind of hot?” Jungkook asked as you finally reached him under the light post. Miyoung had stormed off with an evil glare that he ignored telling you how “You’re done”.

He looked down at you with hazed eyes, amazed and enamored. You scrunch your face curiously, “What was?”

“You, right now,” He chuckled, reaching for your hand in his, “Kind of scary too. Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

“You’re exaggerating,” you tried to laugh it off, “I wasn’t mean, was I?”

It was so dumb of you to still be worried about it but you couldn’t help it.

“No, you were calm and casual but that was so scary,” Jungkook gasped dramatically, “Because I know you were mad at her—… it was mean but only a little and so very very hot, and you’re doing all this in that dress…”

Without meaning to be, Jungkook was sort of like your hype man. You were worried about being too harsh, you still are, but he made you feel better about it. Part of you will never not feel in the wrong for being with Jungkook but you’ve gotten the rest off your chest and it felt good. Maybe you were a bit mean or maybe you weren’t, you could never be entirely sure but Jungkook seemed to be on your side no matter what.

“You like my dress?” You asked him with a teasing smile as he held the car door open for you.

“I really do,” he played with his lip ring, looking down at you.

“Then take it off me.”

“Oh fuck,” Jungkook whispered to himself as he looked around the parking lot, “Here?”

You broke out into a laugh as you sat down. Your words got to him easier than you thought and he sighed, “You can’t say that shit to me, Y/n. I’ll actually do it.”

“Let’s go back to my place and see if you can keep your word then,” you told him, watching him close the door with a tense jaw just thinking about it.

You can’t do this to him. You can’t be shy and cute one second and then act like that. You can’t. That’s not fair to him. How is he supposed to not be affected when you say things that get his heart racing while looking so cute? Was this what it would be like dating you? Just constantly caught by surprise?

He did like the way you stood up for yourself. He liked that you spoke your mind more freely than before and he takes joy in hearing you flirt back. In the beginning it felt like he was the one always trying to get you to talk to him or notice him and now you’re saying things that make his head dizzy.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, yknow?” Jungkook asked after the painfully long car ride back to your apartment. He was removing his coat as you sat on the edge of your bed to undo your shoes.

You let out an amused laugh, “What do you mean?”

“I mean… you act all shy and innocent and then you say shit that…” Jungkook let out a groan, “I can’t explain it, you just drive me crazy.”

“In a good way or bad way?” You asked, following him with your eyes as he closed the space between you two until he was at the end of the bed standing in front of you.

“A good way,” he said softly, “I’m finding more sides of you I’ve never seen.”

“And you like it?” You asked shyly, feeling his hands curl around your jaw.

“I do, a lot,” he confessed brushing his lips against yours, “I don't know what I would’ve done if I lost my chance with you again.”

::.

NO PART TWO

oml yall this took me forever to come up with 😭 I went through at least six other ideas before deciding on this one and I can’t tell how happy I am with it yet but I tried my hardest not the disappoint 🥹 I miss being more active and taking to you all but life has been so busy lately

please let me know how you feel and I promise I’ll try to be more active 🫶🏽

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @skzthinker @unnatae @beautywine @lilliankoo @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @whoa-jo @marvelbun @sunnikthv @kochycooky @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @dream-cvtcher @jksjx @kissyfacekoo @joyjunk @caro134340lina @hyunjinswifeee @oldermenluverrr @caro134340lina @olivialeesstuff [taglist is too long so I’ll have to make two versions of it]

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hannieehaee · 3 months

Text

ENDLESSLY

18+ / mdi

summary: despite not having a large audience, jungkook's camboy career prevailed with the hopes that someday he'd make enough money to finally leave his dead-end job. what happens when one of his admirers offers to make that dream come true?

content: camboy!jungkook x trustfundbaby!reader, jungkook is shy, jungkook is a faceless camboy with a very small audience, reader is younger than jk, kind of pathetic!jungkook, reader is rich and very confident, slowburn (kind of), afab reader, smut, camming, masturbation (m receiving), oral (f receiving), dry humping, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 12.7k

a/n: this really was just a spur of the moment fic that came to mind on a random thursday lol i hope u guys enjoy it!!

masterlist | kofi/patreon

support me through a one time tip<3

"Well, that's it for today guys, thanks for watching."

With an awkward chuckle, Jungkook reached out to his computer screen and shut the laptop closed, groaning just as he stopped being out of earshot.

233 viewers.

It wasn't much, but it was enough to give Jungkook the hope that maybe someday he'd be able to find pride in the number. Maybe his streams would blow up in views overnight one of these days – the hope prevailed. It had been a month since he hit the 200's, now garnering an average of 250 viewers per stream.

It was quite embarrassing to him sometimes. There were instances in which he'd finish a stream and regain full consciousness of his actions, becoming embarrassed at the knowledge of strangers watching him cum — of them hearing his voice and his whimpers as he played it up for their entertainment — and of him not even being able to make a living out of it.

He had to stay creative, sometimes finding scripts online that he'd read out to his viewers while he jerked off, playing the role of a subby coworker or a dominant childhood friend in order to keep his audience engaged (and maybe incite one or two to send money his way). Other times, he'd simply ramble about his life (but never get too specific) whilst he let himself lose control on camera.

Jungkook never once showed his face, only ever giving people glimpses at the tattoos decorating his arm and of his cock as it stood against his abs. The most he'd ever shown had been a small view of his lips before the camera's frame cut off.

He liked it this way.

In reality, he was too shy to ever be outspoken about doing such a thing, which was why no one in his life knew about it. He didn't judge anyone who enjoyed camming, but he was simply too self-conscious to do such a thing. Despite being aware of how handsome people thought him to be, he had never been too forward when it came to sex, much less this.

This had all started a little over a year ago, when he'd come across a few cammers on Twitter late into the night. Going on their accounts out of sheer curiosity, he realized that they each had a large following, not only on Twitter, but also on camming websites. Some of them even had their Patreons and PayPal accounts linked to their accounts, amassing even more revenue from these third party websites on top of their income from the camming sites. This was what mainly caught his attention.

Part of him felt bad about being on it solely for the money, but he was beyond desperate. And so he held the false hope that he'd somehow have the same luck as them and create an income out of this.

As someone who had only recently graduated university, having found no luck in his field, Jungkook had to resort to applying to jobs he felt were below his level of expertise. Having no connections in his field and no call-backs from employers, he found himself working a part time at a gas station accompanied by a part time at a grocery store. Both jobs were miserable to him.

The jobs themselves were not horrible, but attempting to manage both schedules and both sets of responsibilities was slowly weighing down on him. His coworkers were also not the best to be around. And did he mention the commute to each establishment? That part ate up at his days drastically, leaving him with almost no time for rest.

Jungkook knew that he should've given up on camming a long time ago. Hell, he'd made a grand total of $876 dollars in the past year he'd been at it. That would be a laughable amount to all the cammers that had inspired him into taking such a profession. But he didn't have any other prospects. Even as he worked his two jobs and cammed, he continued to search for more fulfilling (and better paying) employment, but was unable to ever even get any callbacks.

And so now he found himself doing about three streams per week, getting more and more discouraged each time he'd end a stream with the same low number of viewers.

With yet another sigh, Jungkook got up to go clean himself up, lethargic in his movements due to both the physical and mental exhaustion of having worked all day, only to come back home for a lowly appreciated stream.

Coming back from a much needed hot shower, he did his usual skin care before heading back to bed, where he had been recording just now. For a moment he pondered whether he should go to sleep now in order to get ready for work early next morning or to indulge in watching some anime as a reward for the tiring day.

Going for the latter, he opened his computer back up, sighing again when he remembered he hadn't closed the tab in which he'd been camming.

But before he could actually tap out of it, something caught his attention, making his eyes widen more than he thought possible.

burner98 donated $1,000

This must've been some sort of mistake. Right? Maybe they mistyped? No one in their right mind would donate such an amount to a faceless cammer ranking up to less than a thousand weekly views.

All his prior donations had been in the lower numbers, usually only ever amounting up to $20. Never had he ever gotten someone to donate anything in the triple digits, much less going into the quadruples.

The name of the donor also caught his attention. Babystarcandy. It was a frequent watcher who had been in attendance to every single stream of his starting a few months back — which was when they'd first made an appearance in his audience.

He had never noticed this viewer in particular, though they were one of the only people to ever grant him donations. They'd usually donate whilst he was off stream, which he found slightly strange but never questioned. Checking through his donation history, he saw this name listed three times prior, with donations of $5, $15 and $20 respectively. They'd happened throughout the months, with no pattern in particular. It made no sense for them to donate such a high amount to Jungkook out of nowhere, especially not while he wasn't actively on stream.

With a heavy heart and half a mind to simply keep the money, he decided to message the donor to inform them of their mistake and follow through with a refund.

So much for his anime binge before bed.

babystarcandy - Hey, burner98. Thank you so much for the kind donation, but I think you made a mistake. I'll refund you.

He decided to go with something kind of formal. After all, he'd never spoken to this person before.

Surprisingly, the response came within minutes. Being three in the morning, he assumed you'd wait til the following day to reply, but maybe you were in a different time zone.

burner98 - omg hiii !! did i make a mistake ?? im sorry !! i meant to send 1k. did it not go through correctly ?

Had that not been an accident? One thousand dollars?

This made no sense. Why would you send him such a large amount out of nowhere? That was more than he'd made in the entire past year. Hell, that was half his rent.

Jungkook had no idea how to respond to you.

As much as he wanted to accept it, it felt like robbing you of a fortune.

babystarcandy - Gosh, hi! No, the thousand came through, it's just ... Are you sure this is correct? This is a lot of money ... I'd feel terrible taking so much from you

Once again, you responded almost immediately.

burner98 - haha ur so cute

burner98 donated $2,000

burner98 - is that better ? ;)

Holy fucking shit.

Jungkook's hands were shaking at this point. His eyes couldn't believe what was right in front of him.

Quickly, he took out his phone to check his baking app, checking to see if the deposits were legitimate. Upon opening it, he found that his balance had in fact gone up $3,000. This was far more money than he'd ever had in his bank account.

He stared blankly at it for a few moments without so much as breathing. A reminder to snap out of his trance arrived in the form of another chime coming from his computer — a new message from you.

burner98 - did i scare u off :((

burner98 - just wanna help u out :(((

Immediately, he rushed to respond, not even thinking before typing anymore.

babystarcandy - no! not at all! this is just so much money. i dont want you getting yourself into financial trouble for me

Within seconds, you responded.

burner98 - haha it's okay i can afford it dont worry <3

He furrowed his brows worriedly, typing up yet another message.

babystarcandy - i really dont mean to sound ungrateful, but why ? it's so much money ... this is life-altering type of money for me (as made up as that may sound) my content isn't even that good. why are you giving me this?

He knew he was shooting himself in the foot by questioning it so much and not simply accepting it, but he'd learned through his life that good things don't just come out of nowhere. He needed more details. At least for his peace of mind.

burner98 - i adoooore ur content. u've helped me so much u have noooo idea !!! u deserve it !! u mentioned in ur live a week ago u were struggling with money, so ofc id wanna help u out pretty <3

Fuck. You actually liked his content? His content was worth $3,000 to you?

Jungkook was almost sure he had accidentally fallen asleep before he even opened his computer. Pinching himself a few times proved for this to be actually real.

babystarcandy - thank you so much. you have no idea how much this means to me.

babystarcandy - there has to be some way i can repay you.

Was he propositioning himself to you?

Not even Jungkook was sure. He had no idea what he was offering to you, but it was the middle of the night and he was extremely grateful. He couldn't help himself as he typed up that message and sent it.

burner98 - oh ? what would u suggest ?

Oh, fuck. You were agreeing. Okay ... Now what? Jungkook had nothing to offer. He was an amateur cammer with nothing to his name. What could some random person on the internet with tons of disposable income possibly want from him?

babystarcandy - maybe i could give you a call to thank you ? you know, one on one ?

He mentally kicked himself as soon as he sent that message.

What the hell was he thinking, offering up a personal call to some random person online? This could be a friendless creep for all he knew. He had no identifying information about you, other than knowing you apparently had a vast disposable income. I mean, hell, your account name was burner98, you clearly did not want to leave any traceable information about you.

Before he could backtrack (not that he would actually have the balls to), the three dots on your side of the conversation popped up, followed by another message from you.

burner98 - really ??? :00 that'd be amazing omg ... are you free tomorrow ? i'll make it worth your while <3

Staring at the $3,000 sitting cozy on his bank account, he didn't even let himself think before agreeing, sending a quick message in confirmation. He had work tomorrow, but maybe calling off would be worth it considering you were hinting at even more money.

Jungkook felt dirty for some reason, despite knowing what camming truly entailed. However, he also knew that there was nothing morally wrong with what he was doing, so he pushed that shyness to the back of his mind and began drafting up some sort of goodbye message that encapsulated your plans to call tomorrow and a few more thank you's for your donations.

burner98 donated $5,000

burner98 - just a little thank u for ur kindness ;) see u tomorrow baby ~

Jungkook had to swallow the gasp that was about to leave his body. Five thousand dollars??

You'd managed to drop eight thousand dollars on him within an hour's time. This was four months of his rent. Jungkook had never had this much money lying in his bank account. Its mere presence was making him nervous.

Not only that, but the thought of talking to someone who had this much money to give without a second thought scared him shitless.

There was no way he'd sleep tonight.

In the end, Jungkook ended up sleeping a total of three hours. With his working schedule, it was common for him to catch about five hours of sleep every night, so this wasn't too out of the norm. Last night had been different, however, as he had simply been unable to sleep due to all the tossing and turning in anticipation for today.

As soon as he woke up, he checked his bank account again to make sure last night hadn't been some sort of twisted dream. Following that, he called up both of his jobs in order to call in sick. That granted him a total of two days without work (nor pay) due to the flu he had made up.

Now he sat in front of his laptop, fake sick and waiting for you to call him.

Last night, you'd agreed on calling him on Zoom at around 12PM in his timezone. Currently at 12:18PM, he sat anxiously waiting for your arrival. Sporting a simple tank top and some basketball shorts, he pondered whether he should take anything off in advance, not sure if you wanted him to give you a private show or not. You hadn't discussed the details of the call, but surely you'd want something of that nature, right? I mean, you only knew him through his streams after all.

His wait was not too prolonged, as he heard the familiar notification chime come from his computer only moments later. It was a zoom link sent by burner98.

You were here.

Angling his webcam so it'd only show below his chin on camera, he nervously clicked on the link and joined the call. It connected after just a few moments.

In front of him was a black screen with the name burner98 attached to it. You'd chosen to remain anonymous to him by keeping your camera off.

Then he heard a tiny gasp, your microphone icon lighting up along with it.

"Oh my god!! Hi!", you sounded very happy to see him, causing his skin to heat up. He wasn't used to getting any reactions on his streams, seeing as he couldn't hear his audience.

"H-hi," he stammered, awkwardly clearing his throat afterwards.

"I didn't think you'd show ... Wow, you look so pretty," you said absentmindedly, almost as if entranced by him despite only being able to see his torso.

He could hear the smile in your voice. You sounded young and girlish, completely different from what he'd expected.

Truthfully, he had either expected some virgin creep around his age or maybe a lonely middle aged woman in desperate need of some action. Yet your voice sounded appealing to him. He could almost picture what you looked like. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but he pictured a pretty girl on the other side of the screen. Unless you were using some sort of voice distortion. You could never be too sure nowadays.

"Uh, yeah, of course I came. Thank you again for, uh, the money," he felt awkward as he said it, not sure of how to properly convey his gratitude, but knowing he'd done a terrible job at it just now.

Luckily for him, you merely giggled at his awkwardness.

"It's not a problem!! I'm happy to help. Sorry I didn't send anything before ... I wasn't sure how you'd take it," you trailed off, "Was it okay that I sent it? I swear it's no trouble for me, but I didn't mean to intimidate you or anything. I know that can be a lot of money," you added.

"It's totally fine, hah," he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, accidentally lowering his body enough for you to see his chin and lips on screen, "I'm really thankful for it, truly. You have no idea how much this helps."

"Fuck, you're so pretty ..." you whispered to yourself before responding to his statement, "I'm happy to hear that! It's awkward to say this in person, but I really do love your content. You're so underrated."

You were very confident in the way you spoke, almost completely ignoring the context of this whole conversation. In the meantime, Jungkoook felt extremely awkward and nervous, unsure of where this was going.

"Thank you so much ..." he mumbled shyly, "Uh, do you want- What would you like me to do? You know, to, uh, express my gratitude?", he cringed at his wording, hearing an almost inaudible chuckle coming from you after.

"You don't have to strip for me or anything," you giggled after a short pause, "I really just wanted to talk to you," you added shyly. He could picture you putting your hair behind your ear, "Is that odd? Sorry, I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything," you added with another small laugh.

He could hear the smile in your voice at every statement. Your demeanor was just very contagious. It almost made him feel like this call was a reward of its own. It had been a while since someone spoke to him with such kindness, especially considering the grand favor you'd just done for him.

"Could I-," he started, "Could I see you? It feels a little strange being the only one with my camera on," he tried to play it off with a dry chuckle, but he knew the request was an odd one. He was the one who chose to put himself out there, not you.

"Maybe next time?", you suggested, "I'm just a little shy, sorry," for the first time, your tone matched his awkward one, making him grimace at even thinking about asking to see you in the first place.

"How old are you?", he asked before he could stop himself.

"You're very curious about me, huh?", you giggled, "I'm 23. How old are you?"

You were 23? And you already had this much money to give him without a second thought? Who were you?

"You're 23? That's- Wow, I expected older," he admitted, despite thinking your voice matched your age.

"Is it because of the money?", you asked.

"Yeah, hah, Sorry, just-"

"It's okay, baby, you can ask me whatever you want. If you're willing to answer some questions too," you added, not pushy, but more so encouraging, "You didn't answer my question, by the way."

"Oh, sorry ... I'm 24. Can I really ask questions?"

"Yeah, baby, go ahead," there was a big smile in your voice. He could tell you enjoyed when he engaged in conversation. And to be honest, he was enjoying it too.

"How come ... I mean, you're young and- and you sound like, like you're pretty. And you seem to be well off, so ... how come you're on here?", he hoped his question didn't come off as rude, or that he wasn't rushing things. He felt selfish in admitting it, but he hoped that this would not be the only time you ever donated to him.

"Aw, you think I'm pretty? But you've never seen me?", you teased.

"I mean, what I meant was-"

"It's okay, pretty. You don't have to explain," you giggled, "To answer your question ... I came across your stream on accident, and your voice was just so-", you cleared your throat, "so fucking pretty. The way you read the scripts or those times you'd just rant while you played with yourself ... Fuck. I never thought I could be so attracted to someone I'd never really met or even seen," you were getting carried away, but the shifting tone of your voice had Jungkook's interest peeked, "When you mentioned struggling financially in one of your streams, I just felt this need to take care of you ... Sorry, is that weird?", you chuckled awkwardly by the end, likely embarrassed by your ramble.

He shook his head, "N-no! I understand. I'm glad you enjoy the content. I didn't think it was good, since I don't get that many views," he lamented to himself, "Thank you for wanting to take care of me, I have been struggling lately. You're really saving my life," he exaggerated a bit, but it felt truthful at the time.

"I'll help you out even more in the future, baby. Don't worry," he could hear the pout in your voice, basically cooing at his lamentations.

"You really don't have to-", he raised his arms to convey his point, only to be interrupted by you.

"I want to! It's really no trouble for me. I have a lot more to give. Trust me," you insisted.

You stopped speaking for some seconds before humming to yourself, seemingly thinking to yourself. When you spoke up again was when the atmosphere shifted for Jungkook.

"How about we make a deal?"

It sounded ominous as you said it. Jungkook couldn't lie when he said that the question made his heart drop. You didn't seem weird or threatening thus far, but he really did not want to enter a situation in which he gave you some sort of sexual favor in exchange for money. Camming already made him shy enough. He didn't think he had it in him to do more explicit things.

"I- I don't-"

"I'll send you an allowance if you keep streaming regularly," you started, "and I'll double it if you call me again. Just to talk," you suggested, giving him some room in order to respond.

"You want me to c-call you?", he parroted.

"I've really enjoyed talking to you, and I'd love to do it again," you admitted, "Please let me take care of you."

His blood stopped pumping for a moment.

The offer sounded far too good for him to refuse. Money for him to keep doing what he was already doing? And even more just to talk to you? This sounded like one of those sugar daddy situations he'd hear about on Twitter, but without the explicit bits.

Jungkook pondered over it for a few silent moments, humming to himself when he found the answer he wanted to give. He didn't have anything to lose after all.

"Okay. I'll do it," he decided, gulping nervously immediately after agreeing.

"Really?", you sounded elated as you asked, "You want to keep talking? I didn't scare you off?"

"Of course not. It's not everyday you get such a deal, you know," he shamelessly allowed himself to admit, "And you're nice to talk to."

He wasn't sure whether he was buttering you up or if he actually meant it. He'd need a few more conversations to decide.

"Great! Oh, baby, I'm so glad!," you clapped your hands excitedly, cheery in your demeanor.

"You can, uh, call me JK if you want," he added, noticing how you kept going back and forth between pet names. It just felt a bit awkward to him at the moment.

"Okay, JK. Tell me, how's your day been?"

Settling comfortably, he continued the conversation, nerves easing after a while as he attempted to match your energy. Although he still had his alerts high, he felt more at ease as the conversation evolved, with your demeanor becoming contagious to him.

You only spoke for a few hours. At some point Jungkook became so absorbed in it, he didn't realize how easy it was for him to talk to you about his goals, his time as a cammer, his day to day life, or any other mundane subject that you brought up. He kept personal details to himself (as did you), even turning off his camera at some point in order to lessen how self aware he felt. You were nice to him all throughout, showing genuine interest in him yet not a single ounce of lust or any ulterior motives.

After a while, you were the one to finally bid your goodbyes, claiming you had things to take care of and couldn't stay longer. With the agreement to call you a few times per week, you coo'd and pouted at having to hang up, making Jungkook feel a slight ting of disappointment at the conversation ending.

Within a few weeks, Jungkook's life changed drastically.

His streams and your calls continued swiftly, amassing to a total of two of each per week. Usually, he'd call you for about an hour or so before coming on stream for another hour.

On those days he'd garner about $3,000 from you. Jungkook felt quite rich at the moment.

Against his better judgment, he quit his job at the gas station and lowered his hours as a grocery store clerk. He had a high amount of savings now, thanks to you, so he didn't see the point in remaining miserable in not one, but two jobs. Despite keeping one of his jobs as a fall-back plan, he still had tons of free time at his will due to the streams of money coming his way — with all of it being your money.

A few calls in, he found out a bit more about you, which answered many of his questions. However, your meek promise of letting him see you had been untrue, as he still had no idea what you looked like nor did he know your name. Granted, you also didn't know those things about him, but you'd seen him jerk off on screen, so you still had an advantage over him.

Among the things he found out about you was the source of your vast income. Apparently, you were the daughter of a CEO. Jungkook was not granted the specifics, but you'd told him that your father was the owner of a few multimillion dollar companies, which was how you attained your seemingly endless stream of income. Your father would routinely send you about ten times the amount you gave Jungkook weekly, which left him dizzy at attempting to do the math.

Along with this bit of lore about you, Jungkook was also shocked to find out you lived in the same area as him. While Jungkook lived in a rundown part of LA, you were living comfortably in a wealthier, high end area. This knowledge had also shocked you, even causing you to bring up a cheeky suggestion of meeting him in person, but it was merely brought up as a passing comment and never discussed again.

Currently, he found himself in his same apartment, not feeling secure enough in this agreement to move onto a nicer area. As naive as it may have sounded, Jungkook did trust your word when you said you were interested in taking care or him financially, however, he knew that realistically he could not count on your money forever. You didn't know each other personally, and his streaming career would not last forever (especially considering that his views were only in the 500s at the time). He opted to save most of the money you kept him, likely to use some of it to pay off college and some for safekeeping. As of now, however, his lifestyle remained pretty much the same.

Much like every other Thursday, today Jungkook was preparing himself to start another stream in a couple of hours. On most streaming days, he'd call you to talk and simply hang out before starting a stream. Today, however, he had received a message from you before he could log in to contact you.

burner98 - hey jk !! i cant talk right now ㅠㅠ would it be okay if u call me after ur stream ?? i'll still be able to tune in !!

Jungkook didn't think too much of it, simply replying in agreement and moving onto something else to fill up the time. He prepared for his stream as per usual, opting to ramble as he jerked off for the duration of this stream, not having a script or prompt to roleplay this time around.

Setting up his usual equipment, he reached over to his pc to angle it correctly, only showing below his lips in order to protect his anonymity. With a deep breath, he uncovered his webcam and turned on the stream, immediately taking note of about 60 people entering all at once.

"Hey guys," he chuckled breathily, "It's me again, Babystarcandy. Welcome back to my subscribers and welcome in to anyone who might be new," he began, "Today is gonna be a more casual stream if that's okay? I'll be, uh, edging and rambling for a while. Maybe not too much rambling, since you know how into it I get," he trailed off.

One of his key features as a cammer was his usual commitment to being a sub. He'd often get praise about how 'pathetic' and 'subby' he could be. Most of his donations occurred on his subbier streams, when he'd roleplay some subby role or when he'd jerk off, torturing himself into a pathetic mess. In reality, this was Jungkook's natural state when it came to sex. He had always taken a more submissive and sensitive role when it came to his personal relationships. Sadly, though, he had not gotten any action outside of camming in a few months due to his hectic work schedule.

Quickly squirting some lotion on his hand, Jungkook began to work himself, slow in his movements as to prolong the experience. He wanted this to last a good twenty minutes or so.

"H-how are you guys?", he asked, glad to see there were about 200 people in now.

A few commenters popped up — the usual loyal commenters who'd encourage him throughout, expressing their arousal at the sight of him.

"S-hit," he muttered when his hand went up to his tip, squeezing tortuously, "My tattoos? You like them? I'm glad ... What? They make me look intimidating? I'm quite the opposite, purplelover65," he chuckled between breathy moans as he read off comments.

"How many times should I edge myself tonight?", he wondered out loud, "Won't cum til you tell me to," he whimpered, slowing down his movements even more, hand tight around his cock.

He read a few more comments, thanking two donors who'd given $10 each and fulfilling any requests to plea or whimper for more. This continued as it usually did up until the first time he robbed himself of an orgasm, which was when he spotted a commenter in particular.

It was you.

Ever since he began talking to you, you never really commented anymore, simply making your attendance known by being connected in the stream. Despite your calls, you'd never speak about what he did on his streams, always talking as if you were friends (friends who knew no personal information about each other but alas). Tonight, however, you decided to catch him off guard by commenting.

burner98 - god, ur so pretty ... bet you'd like someone playing with that pretty cock right ? marking you up and toying at u til ur crying

You'd never once been this explicit towards him, even before ever speaking to him. You'd expressed liking his content, but never had praised him like this. He pictured the words coming out of your mouth, with your voice, and shuddered. There was something about being wanted so badly by someone — enough for you to take care of him financially without asking for anything in return — that made him reel. As ashamed as he was to admit it, he'd been craving some praise from you all these weeks. In his mind, you were a faceless entity, but you were still a rich girl around his age, and that was enough for his brain to work with.

"Y-yes, burner98, want you to t-touch me til I'm crying ... Fuck, need to be touched so badly," he whined, already on the high of his second attempt at an orgasm approaching, knowing he'd end up denying himself again.

A few other commenters encouraged him with similar words, making him jerk off faster, slowly approaching his high.

burner98 - ur so filthy, fuck. are u gonna edge urself again, pretty ? wanna see u do it til u make a pretty mess all over ur sheets

Your comments were the ones he wanted to see the most. He felt an instinctive need to obey you. It felt like he was finally giving you something in return. It also felt right to him for some reason, like his body was aching to fulfill your every wish.

"Mhm, just- just wanna cum so bad," he cried, hand reaching out to play with his balls, "I'm so close ... Can I cum? I know I said I wouldn't yet, but it's so good ... It's right there, baby, please ..." he pleaded, eyes drowsy.

burner98 - nooo baby u have to wait. want u to cry, remember ? do not cum.

Huffing, he slowed down, diminishing the intensity of the feeling. Pouting, he groaned as he felt his orgasm leave him, disappearing just as the previous one had.

"Okay," he whimpered, "I stopped ... Can I touch myself again?", he asked his viewers, "My nipples? Want me to play with them, magicshop43? A-anything for you," he moaned, fingers coming up to his hardened nipples and toying with them. He sighed at the stimulation, always extra sensitive in that area, but also due to how badly he was craving that orgasm now.

His hand went back down to his cock, working it again, "What would you do if you were here with me right now?", he asked as if he were directing himself to a single person rather than the 435 viewers currently watching.

He skimmed through the comments, humming and acknowledging all the dirty thoughts his viewers were sharing. As he played with himself, he waited for you to respond. With a groan, he finally spotted your comment, gulping when he processed the contents of it.

burner98 - id love to have u all to myself. edge u until u cry or maybe make u cum so many times u have to beg me to stop ... id mark up every inch of ur body while i run my thumb on ur tip without any more stimulation. you'd look so pretty begging me for more until i finally sit on ur cock and steal my orgasm from you without giving u anything in return. id drag this on for hours until u cant take it anymore

burner98 - is that too much ? sorry just want u so fucking bad

Without realizing it, his hand sped up as he read your comment, mind now zeroed in on you, putting all other commenters in the back burner. By the time he managed to respond, he was already a whimpering mess, bottom lip trapped in between his teeth to prevent the pathetic sounds from slipping out.

"It's not too much, b-burner98 ... Want that, fuck ... Need someone to take care of me so badly ...", he breathed out, "C-can I cum now? Please? Wanna cum- Need to cum," he pleaded, sighing at the chorus of comments giving him the green light to let go.

"Thank you thank you thank you," he rambled quietly, letting his cock make a mess all over his abs and sheets with the cum squirting out.

He sat there with a heavy breath for a few moments as he attempted to regain his composure, surprised at how sensitive he'd gotten this time around. He wanted to blame you in specific, but doing so would mean admitting to himself that you'd had an effect on him, and he did not want to open that can of worms yet.

"Thank you guys for joining me today, hah," he chuckled, "I hope that was as fun for you as it was for me. I'll see you next time, my loves," he made a kissy noise at the camera before closing the tab, sighing once it was all done.

Now he had to wait for your call, still slightly horny but also anxious about talking to you after having practically had phone sex with you — with an unknowing audience. He gave himself a few minutes to calm down, only then getting up to wash his hands and get a rag to clean up with. By the time he was finished, that familiar chime arrived, informing him of a message from you.

burner98 - im calling u now. is that okay ?

Clearing his throat, Jungkook sounded out his voice to make sure he'd rid himself of any of that high pitched, whinny tone he would develop when he was horny. With one last sip of water, he responded and soon after began the call.

"H-hey," he muttered, feeling shy after today's events, unknowing of what was to come.

"Hi ..." you sounded similarly awkward, "I'm sorry if I caught you off guard today," you started, "I just needed to unwind ... I promise I'm not expecting anything from you. This is just a regular call."

"I- it's okay, really. Don't worry about it," he reassured, "It was nice to, uh, have someone talk me through it. It makes it easier; more, uh, fun, I guess," he was awkward in admitting.

He immediately regretted his words at your sudden silence. Did you think he was lying? Or maybe the thought of him enjoying it freaked you out. You had never showed explicit interest in him in such a way, so maybe this was too forward of him.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"JK," you interrupted.

He gulped, "Yes?"

"Would you like to meet someday?", you began, tone serious, "I know we live in the same area, and ... I've really enjoyed our time getting to know each other. I'd just really love to meet you."

Jungkook remained silent, shock taking over his entire person.

You must've interpreted his silence as rejection, opting to continue speaking.

"I wouldn't expect anything from you if we met, if that's what you're thinking!," you quickly reassured, "I'm not looking for that. I just ... I love being able to help you out and I'd love a chance to see you in person."

"You ... You want to meet?"

"Yes. You don't have to say yes, just-"

"Where would we meet?", he asked, truly considering it.

"My house? Maybe?," you suggested, "Again, you don't have to say yes. I understand this is strange. I won't get angry if-"

"Yes. I'll go," he found himself responding before he could think any further.

"Really?", you asked with an astonished tone of voice.

"Y-yeah, just send me your address and the time and I'll be there," he rushed out, "Uh, well I have to go now. I'll see you soon, okay? Bye!", he practically zoomed, shutting his computer closed before you could say anything in return.

Jungkook knew how stupid it was of him to want to meet some anonymous person be met on a camming website in person was. But he felt an immense debt towards you. This really was the very least he could do.

He also felt far too much curiosity about your person to pass up the opportunity to meet you. You'd kept even the most basic information about yourself a mystery. Some part of him needed to meet you to find out who the person he'd been talking to all this time was.

Lastly, as embarrassed and confused as he was to admit it, tonight's events had left him a bit ... affected. Interacting with you as he put himself in the most vulnerable of positions, playing with himself for your (and many others') viewing pleasure just left him insanely aroused. It awoke an itch he now needed to scratch.

So, when he woke up the next morning to details about your meeting, he was nervous yet determined to finally meet you.

Anxiety and cold sweats were all that Jungkook knew any time he was nervous. Staring up at his blank ceiling as he attempted to sleep was the only thing he could do on the night prior to your meeting.

The day had come sooner than anticipated, happening only two days after the day of the stream in which you'd made Jungkook lose his sanity. After that, he began to feel a mixture or excitement and bone-rattling anxiety at the prospect of meeting you.

He already had a great thing going on with all the allowance money you'd given him, meeting you would merely risk that. What if you were some weirdo who had been manipulating him this whole time, hoping to eventually get him alone to extort him with all the money you'd given him? Risking such a high stream of income made him feel terrified, even if it was money he was never expecting in the first place.

And that wasn't even the worst case scenario.

There were tons of terrifying scenarios playing in Jungkook's head. Someone with as much money as you did could easily cause some damage to him if he were to reject any advances you made towards him. Meeting you could possibly turn dangerous for Jungkook.

At the same time, naive and immature ideas popped up in Jungkook's head.

There was a chance you truly were the bubbly girl who had taken an interest in his financial wellbeing. Maybe you truly were someone who had somehow become infatuated with him in an innocent way and had no ulterior motives in mind. You had never crossed any lines with him nor had you even brought up the possibility of a sexual encounter between you. Maybe he'd meet you and end up forming a genuine friendship with you.

Whether it was dumb of him or not, Jungkook decided to continue with the plan to meet you, showing up at the penthouse the address you'd given him led to. His life had already been miserable before you turned in upside down, how much of a risk could this be?

With an accelerated heartbeat, Jungkook pressed the button to your intercom, becoming alert when he heart a voice respond through the machine.

"This is a private residence. Who is this?", responded a male voice in a tone devoid of any emotion.

"Oh, uh, this is Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook," he stammered.

Fuck, he had never given you his real name. How were you to know this was him? Was this even your address? Maybe this was your husband? What if-

"Oh, you must be JK," responded the voice, more casually this time, "You're here to meet Y/N, right? You're a bit early. I'll let you in in just a moment," trailed off the voice, turning off the intercom before Jungkook could respond.

"Y/N," he mumbled to himself.

That must've been your name. He liked it. It rolled off his tongue nicely.

In just a few moments, the door opened, revealing a handsome man in a suit, seemingly around his own age. With a nod, he gestured at Jungkook to come in, which Jungkook obeyed immediately.

"Hello, I'm Taehyung. I'm Y/N's personal assistant/butler," he introduced himself with a friendly handshake, "Wow, you're even more handsome than she described," he marbled, staring at Jungkook shamelessly.

This guy seemed weird, but nothing appeared threatening thus far.

"Oh, I- Thank you," Jungkook chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.

"I let her know you're here. Just take those stairs and head left and you'll be in one of the living rooms. She'll come out when she's finished getting ready," instructed Taehyung as he pointed in the direction Jungkook was meant to go find you.

Hesitantly, Jungkook made his way to you, heart beating faster by the minute. When he reached the living room Taehyung had directed him to, he found himself standing by a fancy door, one which he assumed led to your room. Before he could ponder as to whether to knock or not, the door suddenly opened, revealing a girl.

There weren't enough words in Jungkook's vocabulary to describe how he felt at seeing you for the first time. His imagination had been liberal in picturing how you may look once you actually met, yet it had never quite come close to the reality.

Before him stood the prettiest girl he had ever seen. Your skin was perfect, somehow radiant and supple. He could tell it'd be soft to the touch — especially the soft skin of your legs that was exposed by the dress you were wearing. Your hair framed your face perfectly, taking on a soft look that had him wondering what it'd feel like if it graced his skin. Your body was something Jungkook did not want to get into in favor of his sanity, but his brain could not help itself. Your body was formed by the perfect combination of curves and wedges, making up a silhouette he ached to trace. Your eyes were the final blow to it all, wide with wonder as they stared back at him. The beautiful color had him hypnotized.

Jungkook would've truly had his fill of you, devouring you with his eyes for hours if you hadn't snapped him out of it.

"Oh, my God, JK!", you practically squealed, hands going up to cover your mouth in excitement.

"Burner98? I- Hi, You're-"

"You can call me Y/N," you smiled widely at him, offering him a handshake. Everything you did radiated the happiness you clearly felt at meeting him. It somehow had him feeling both reassured and nervous.

"Oh, I- that's a pretty name," he mumbled, gulping at the contact of your hand, "My real name's Jungkook," he revealed.

"I'm so happy to meet you, Jungkook," you expressed, "You're even prettier than I imagined," you were quite straightforward in your thinking.

Sadly he was not the same, still too entranced by you to muster any coherent words.

"You're pretty," he hid behind a cough, too embarrassed to say it outright.

He was aware he was acting like a loser, but could he be blamed? He was currently in the luxury penthouse of his gorgeous sugar mommy (for lack of a better term). His mind would not stop spinning.

You simply giggled at his shy demeanor, taking his hand and leading him over to the couch, coming to sit side by side whilst Taehyung suddenly walked by with drinks, setting them down as he offered you both a cheeky smile.

"Thank you, Taetae," you waved him off before turning back to Jungkook.

"So, how are you feeling? Did coming here make you nervous? I was thinking it might," you started, taking a sip from your drink.

"Maybe a little," he downplayed, "I just didn't know what to expect," he mumbled.

"I know, I'm sorry. I just thought that talking in person might be easier, you know? I never really planned this," you laughed to yourself, "I had no idea you lived so close, but it felt like a missed opportunity to not meet when we lived so close together."

He hummed in agreement, continuing to engage in his shy demeanor despite wanting so badly to show you how elated he was to be with you in this moment.

"I thought maybe you'd have questions? I promise to be an open book from now on," you cutely reached out for his pinky, giggling when he intertwined his own with yours with a smile.

"I guess maybe I was just curious about ... why me? I still can't wrap my head around why anyone would want to help me like this without me, uh, doing anything in return," his eyes left yours as confidence in his question left his own.

You cleared your throat before responding, "Hah, it's kind of embarrassing to say, but, I was in kind of a rut?", you started, "Nothing worked, and then I came across you. Your voice was what got to me first, then it was a mixture of everything. I didn't even plan on continuing to watch as consistently as I did, but I found myself coming back for more every week. Then your personality caught my attention. So when you mentioned your financial issues in one of your streams I couldn't help myself. I was already infatuated by you by then," you admitted, a warmth invading your cheeks.

Similarly, Jungkook blushed, "Oh, I helped you ...?"

"Yes, but we don't need to talk about those things," you cleared your throat, "I don't expect anything like that from you, Jungkook. I just want to help you out. I know it might seem like an odd arrangement, but this is enough for me," you reassured.

As hypocritical as it sounded, Jungkook was slightly disappointed by your words. Within mere minutes of knowing you, he already knew how attracted to you he was. Despite your words, he could not follow along with you and ignore the context of the situation. You found him attractive, he knew that much, and you'd just implied that your attraction to him had made you cum at some point. How was he supposed to ignore that when you were so otherworldly beautiful, sitting right next to him?

But unfortunately for Jungkook, he was too timid to express his desire for you. He was both too introverted and embarrassed to offer himself up like that.

"It's ... I'm glad I've been able to help you," he muttered, "I really appreciate all you've done for me. Don't feel like you have to keep doing it, I understand if-"

You scoot closer to him before interrupting him, "Shh, I want to keep doing it," you shushed him, "but I was hoping we could maybe alter our deal a bit?", you asked, causing Jungkook's breath to hitch.

"H-how so?"

Please say you want him, fuck. He'll drop to his knees right this second if you so much as suggest it.

"I was thinking maybe you could come over a few times a week instead of calling? It'd be way more fun to hang out than just call, don't you think?", you suggested, smiling innocently at him.

Fuck.

"Oh, I- I'd love to, but it takes me about an hour to get here and I don't have a car, so," he said, feeling an odd sense of disappointment in himself at denying you of anything.

"You don't have a car? You should've told me, Jungkookie!," you pouted at him, "Taehyung!", you suddenly called out into the other room.

Within moments, Taehyung entered the room, ready for whatever you had for him.

"Yes?", he asked.

"Tell Joon he'll be driving Jungkook from now on," you turned to Jungkook for a moment, "Joon is one of my drivers. You'll like him," you then turned back to an expectant Taehyung, "I'll give him all the info necessary later today, okay?," you finished, excusing him with a nod of your head.

"Sure thing, Y/Nie," he smiled at you before walking away.

"You really don't have to-"

"No, it's fine! You can call him whenever you need him. He lives in the building too. All my employees live here," you reassured, "You could too if you wanted to, you know, my dad owns the building," you said as if it were nothing.

"W-what?"

You gave him another smile at his shocked expression, hand landing on his own, "Let me take care of you, Jungkook," you said, not as a request nor demand, but something in between.

As your thumb caressed the back of his hand, your eyes on his own, he found himself numbly agreeing, willing to let himself be taken care of without question.

The rest of the evening was spent like this, sharing a few drinks and truly getting to know each other. Whenever Jungkook actually let his guard down and ignored his attraction to you, putting aside the way in which you'd met and your entire dynamic, he found himself really enjoying your company. The two of you were easily compatible, getting along as if you'd been friends for years. Occasionally Taehyung joined in, which gave Jungkook the impression that you were good friends with your employees, whom you treated as equals rather than subordinates.

At some point, Jungkook went home, getting a ride from who was now his new driver, Namjoon. This was yet another person you seemed to be friendly with, which only put Jungkook even more at ease.

He was now willing to follow along with anything you wanted for him. Maybe it was dumb or naive, but meeting you had been enough to instill this blind trust in you. It also didn't help that Jungkook was now undeniably infatuated with you.

Only three weeks later and Jungkook found himself moved and settled into a smaller penthouse located in your farher's building. It had been quite fast, really. A group of movers showed up at his house one week after your initial meeting and did all the work for him. He had been unable to stream that week at all, — earning a few pouty emojis from you in text messages — but he no longer had to pay rent, as you allowed him to occupy the vacant penthouse free of charge, so there was not any loss of money.

Within this time, Jungkook found himself hanging out with you almost daily. He had now known you for a few months and had become intensely attached to you. His feelings for you had grown as he got to know you, and his attraction became almost unbearable. However, he had to hold on, as you still hadn't shown anything further than platonic interest in him.

On the days he streamed, however, you had continued to comment just as you had that one day, egging him on and saying filth he ached to hear from your lips. But any time he saw you after those streams, you'd never bring it up, acting as if you hadn't been lusting after him mere hours ago. In fact, you never mentioned his streaming career anymore, despite actively keeping up with it. It confused him endlessly.

On the day of a particularly racy stream, he visited you again, still somewhat affected by the comments you had left as be whimpered his way to completion.

As he usually did nowadays, he let himself into your penthouse without any warning, making his way to your kitchen, which was where Taehyung had informed him you were currently in. Once he was there, he spotted you as you bent over to take some cookies out of the oven. Your tiny lounge shorts were riding up, a sight that would cause a man even as shy as Jungkook to lose his mind. But he prevailed, simply clearing his throat to announce his presence from the kitchen door.

"Oh, hi Kook!", you chirped, quickly turning to give him a smile before going back to tend to your cookies.

He walked towards you, closing the distance and reaching around you to sneakily grab a cookie, only for you to swat his hand away.

"They're hot, silly!", you scolded, using a gloved hand to pick one up and mouth feed him after having blown on it for precaution.

He took a bite, humming in satisfaction, "Amazing."

"Right?", you giggled, beginning to take off your apron and mittens, not at all minding the non existent distance between you both.

You were absentmided, clearly not paying attention to Jungkook or what was running through his mind. His brain was still on the stream and all the filthy words you'd said only a few hours ago, body still buzzing with lust, which was how he found himself acting without thinking.

Without much warning, he braved it, hand coming to your chin and lifting your face to his own, closing the gap with a soft sigh against your lips.

He pecked at you innocently, landing a more languid kiss on your lips after a few seconds. You kissed back one or two times before suddenly squeaking against him, hands coming to his chest to push him away in shock.

"Jungkook, wait," you murmured, "Stop," you turned your head to the side to avoid his lips.

He pulled away apprehensively, mortified at your rejection, "I- I'm sorry, I thought-"

"I ... I don't want to sleep with you, Jungkook. It's not like that," you avoided his eyes, looking down rather than at him.

His face burned and his heart broke. He was beyond embarrassed at having done such a thing and receiving rejection in return. It had taken an insane amount of balls for him to do so, only for him to fuck things up.

"I'm so sorry, I'll-"

"Jungkook, it's fine. Don't worry about it," you tried to alleviate things to no avail.

"I- I gotta go. I'll see you later," were his last words before running out of your penthouse, embarrassed at how badly he felt he'd fucked things up.

He made it to his own penthouse without once looking back, feeling nothing but mortification at the situation he'd put himself in.

Did you really hold no interest in him? You'd said he was the only person who managed to get you off, that you loved his voice and his videos. You'd commented all the filthy things you wanted to do to him in his streams. You were currently letting him live in a luxury penthouse for free and paying him upwards of $3,000 dollars per week just so he could keep doing his streams. Where had he read things wrong?

On top of it all, he still wanted you so badly. That mere kiss had reignited all the arousal he had felt prior to coming over to your place tonight.

You had kissed back for a few moments, and that was enough for Jungkook's pathetic self to reach into his pants and grab onto his hard cock as soon as he made it back to his bed. He tortured himself with thoughts of you, picturing what you'd look like under those shorts.

Thinking back to the sight of you bent over, he got on his knees, grabbing onto a pillow and positioning it in front of him as he humped into it, hand still playing with his cock. The sight must've been pathetic, but he just felt so needy for you. That single sigh you'd released against his lips was more than enough to feed into his wicked imagination, making his eyes roll back at the image he'd conjured in his head.

He found his end like this, pathetic and alone in a room that belonged to you. When it was all said and done, he went to sleep with a lump in his throat, not knowing how he'd face you again after tonight.

You made various attempts at contacting him throughout the following week, only to receive no answer.

Jungkook didn't leave the penthouse nor did he do any streams for those seven days. He felt as if he'd been broken up with, and felt extremely terrified as to what this meant for his future. He had already let go of his lease at his previous apartment and had quit both his jobs. There was nothing to his name anymore other than the money you'd given him that he'd saved up. What was he supposed to do now?

Another worry of his was how you may be feeling at the moment. You considered him a friend at the very least, so disappearing on you like that made him feel like a terrible person. Ungrateful was what he was.

On the eighth day of icing you out was when he finally grew the balls to go see you again. Without warning, much like before, he went into your place, finding you at your balcony, back facing him like last time.

You must've sensed his presence, turning around and widening your eyes when you saw him.

"Jungkook-"

"Can we ... Can we pretend that never happened?", he asked apprehensively, knowing it was a fruitless solution but asking anyways.

You looked conflicted at his suggestion, taking a moment to think it over before making eye contact with him again, "Okay," you gave him a tight smile, "We'll pretend it never happened."

You said it with such a decisive tone that Jungkook almost didn't catch the pained look in your eyes. But as he had suggested, he pretended not to notice, opting to bring things back to the way they were before.

It only took a few weeks for Jungkook's mind to become rotten again.

It seemed to be easier for you than for him to act as if things never happened. Other than some awkwardness that first night, you acted completely normal afterwards. You treated him as friendly as you had before, even being touchier now. The only thing that had changed was that you didn't tune into his streams anymore. This pained him, as it fully confirmed your lack of romantic or sexual interest in him, but he tried to cope with it.

Except he couldn't do that for too long. Within those weeks, his resolve continued to break as his mind and body ached for him to beg you for just one chance. He wouldn't run this time. If this ruined everything, then so be it. He couldn't live like this anymore.

It was one random afternoon in which he headed to your place unannounced as per usual, making his way to your room, where Taehyung had informed him you were currently at.

You were in your walk-in closet, reorganizing some things, it seemed, when you acknowledged his presence with a quick hi.

Against his better judgment, he interrupted you, turning you around and making you face him, hands holding onto your own. With a concerned look in your eye, you stared back at him with curiosity, verbalizing your concern before he began speaking.

The lump in his throat was already there, and the frustration in his voice as evident as he spoke.

"I dont- I don't understand. Why don't you want me? I thought all this time that- that you may have liked me," he began, already exasperated, "I- I want you so badly ... I can't think of anything else. You're all I think about," he slowly leaned down into your neck at every word spoken, hands tightening around your own, "Please ... Give me one chance ... I- I don't care about the money," he braved a trace of his lips against your neck, pressing a few hot kisses when you didn't push him away, "I'll give it all back, I don't care, just- just please ... I need to have you. Let me have you just this once," he practically whimpered between kisses to your skin, sighing when your hands squeezed his own.

Without responding, you nosed his cheek, nudging him to face you. Your eyes were on his lips and your breath heavy, your breasts rising along with every breath. Your lips found his own with a heavy kiss, invading all his senses immediately.

"Okay, Kookie, you- you can have me ... I'll- I'll let you ..." you couldn't continue due to his needy tongue slipping into your mouth, body pushing your own against your closet wall and hands wrapping around your waist.

He lost control of himself early on, hands feeling at every inch of your body with an untamed desperation. Hands squeezed at every curve as he attempted to mold you against his own body. His breathy sighs landed in your lips, groaning any time you'd moan in return.

"T-thank you. Fuck, thank you, thank you, thank you," he rambled on into your lips, only interrupted when your hand went to the back of his head and forcefully pulled him closer.

His lips trailed down to your neck, sensual as they left love bites in their wake. He made it all the way to your chest, managing to nose your tank top out of the way and reveal a bare breast. With a groan, his lips wrapped around your nipple, licking and tugging at it in desperation.

"Kookie ..." you breathed out, "Take me to bed ..."

He needed no further instruction, walking you back messily, as he refused to disconnect his hands or lips from your body. When you landed on the bed, he hovered over you, kissing at every bare inch available to him, drinking in every sigh you let out.

Once he made his way to your thighs, he sucked at the supple skin, breathing in the natural scent of your body. Above him, you dug your nails into his hair, encouraging every kiss without needing so much as a word. Jungkook was reeling at the mere opportunity to have you. He was on a high he'd never experienced before.

"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he mumbled into your skin, "Smell so good, fuck," he murmured to himself when his lips made their way closer to your center, frustrated at the cloth preventing him from rubbing his nose against the source of the heavenly scent.

His hands went to your shorts, silently aiding you in removing them as you lifted your hips to make it easier for him. All at once, your panties came off with them, leaving a small trail of slick behind. You threw off your shirt in the meantime. Jungkook's mind was already muddled with arousal, and the sight only made it worse. A groan was the last thing to leave his lips before they became occupied by your cunt, continuing to let out muffler sounds of desire against your cunt.

"K-kookie!", you cried out, "So good, fuck. Good fucking boy ..." you moaned whilst pushing his head further into you.

And he adored it. He needed you to use him shamelessly. He needed your cries and whimpers to imbed into his mind until they were the only thing he remembered. Your taste had already ruined him and your sounds were on their way to bury him even further.

He was a pathetic mess between your legs, crying out as it he were the one receiving the pleasure. Every lick and taste went straight to his cock, rendering him the most pussydrunk he'd ever been.

"It's so good ... Pussy's so fucking good," he whimpered, tongue going back and forth between torturing your clit and toying with your folds up until his tongue became stagnant in licking your arousal out of you, nose perfectly rubbing against your clit.

This caused you to begin canting your hips into his mouth, basically using his face as a glorified toy meant for your unadulterated pleasure. Shamelessly, you used him, letting out whiny cries of his name whilst every single noise went straight to his cock. He attempted to mumble im encouragement against your cunt, but he was far too gone. His eyes were rolled back and his brain a muddled mess.

With all his willpower, he managed to aim his eyes at you, encountering a sight he had only ever dreamed about before. Your eyes were rolled back, mindless and blissed out. Your mouth was agape, occasionally letting out the prettiest sounds known to man. Your hand was toying with your breasts, making Jungkook green with envy that he couldn't entertain every inch of your body all at once.

"'m gonna cum, Jungkook ... Need you to make me cum, f-fuck," you whimpered, hiccuping gasps in between.

He almost felt his own orgasm gnawing at him at that moment, but he needed to hold on. He'd be damned if he didn't feel you wrapped around him before losing himself.

"Cum, p-please ... Wanna taste you so bad, baby. Feel so good against my tongue ... Prettiest cunt, oh fuck," he rambled into your lips, aching for the moment you came.

"K-kookie! Y-yes, yes, just like that," you cried, nails digging into his scalp whilst your end took over, hips grinding harshly against his face.

Drenched in you, Jungkook licked wantonly at you, losing himself in your cunt as he rambled praise at you. The experience was otherworldly to him, making him black out in the immense lust your own pleasure was causing him.

He whimpered and nosed at your pussy, allowing a depraved part of himself to take over. He was on cloud nine at having you melt under him, having to will his hips into staying still as to not accidentally let himself go before he got to have you.

"Hmng, Kookie- Too- too much," you whimpered when his lips wouldn't leave you even after your orgasm had subsided. At some point you had to harshly pull at his hair, getting a depraved moan from him in return before he actually separated himself from you.

Before you could verbalize any praise for him, he made his way back up your body, invading your mouth in a wet mess of a kiss. He pushed your own taste into your mouth, swallowing your groan when you sucked into his tongue needily. His hands finally found the opportunity to feel up your body, hands grabbing at your tits and humming into your mouth at how delicious you felt against him.

"So fucking perfect," he mumbled, "God, fucking girl of my dreams ... Need you so bad- always needed you," he murmured absentmindedly as he got his fill of you.

With a mind of their own, his hips rutted into your own, giving him the friction he'd been craving since the moment you kissed. He would've been content with just the feeling of his clothed cock dragging against your bare pussy, had you not suddenly interrupted him with a whine.

"Kookie, please ... Fuck me. Been wanting you for months," you whined in between kisses.

"Fuck ... Want me? Do you really want me, gorgeous? Tell me," he begged, hips losing control.

"Wanted you since I first saw you, Kookie ... Didn't want to take advantage," you cried when his bulge angled perfectly against the most sensitive part of your cunt, nails digging into his biceps.

"Take advantage! I'll give you anything you want," his kisses went down to your tits, moaning into your skin.

He brought himself almost to completion as he kissed at your body, hips seeking their high from the mere friction, but he robbed himself of his orgasm before he could finish. With mewls in complaint from you, he separated himself from you to unclothe, making his way back to you immediately, almost as if he'd burn if he wasn't pressed up against you.

"'m gonna fuck you so good ... Shit, can't think, just want you wrapped around me so badly," he whimpered as he dragged his tip up and down your cunt, hiccuping whines of need.

"Fuck me, God, Kookie, please," you pleaded in a needy tone Jungkook had never heard from you.

"Anything you want ..." he mumbled as he positioned himself against you, losing all ability to speak when he finally entered you.

As much as Jungkook wanted to verbalize how otherworldly you felt around him, his words left him. He was reduced to a mess of gasps and needy hiccups of your name. Tears formed at the corner of his eyes at how badly he'd needed you all this time, finally fulfilling the desire that had been bugging at him since he met you.

Your walls suffocated him, causing his eyes to roll back at the immense pleasure you were giving him. Nothing his imagination had conjured about you could possibly parallel how good you felt.

"Pussy's so warm for me, fuck ... L-love this pussy," he managed to groan into the skin of your neck. His nonsensical praise was followed by even more senseless words, waxing poetic as he fucked into you.

"Prettiest pussy ... Wanted it all this time, craved it so badly ..."

"Thought about you every time I touched myself ... Needed this cunt wrapped around me."

"How is it so warm? Fuck, it's so warm n tight n all for me, huh? My pussy ..."

"Got so fucking sad when you rejected me ... W-wanted you to watch my streams ... They were all for you, f-fuck. Thought of you only."

You tightened particularly harsh after that last comment, finally responding with a shuddered breath of your own.

"I- I kept watching. I was so embarrassed, I used another burner," you revealed between gasps, "Touched myself hoping you'd come b-back and fuck me ..."

This knowledge made him lose his mind — the little of it he still had left. His eyes rolled back and his hips lost their composure. Strong arms lifted your legs further up his frame, with Jungkook now pistoning into you with an intensity that had both of you wailing. No more words could be exchanged when you were so lost in pleasure.

The thought of you wanting him as much as he did you — simply holding back due to not wanting to put any pressure on him or scare him off — made any last sense of sanity leave him. His cock hammered against your cunt as if he hated you, seeking his high whilst his hand snuck down to toy at your puffy clit.

He knew you were sensitive from your previous orgasm, groaning deep within his chest when his suspicions about your incoming high were confirmed by the sudden tightness of your cunt. This was how his own orgasm found him, dragging him down right with you.

His lips found yours, muffling any cries of pleasure by shoving his tongue in your mouth and swallowing every noise that attempted to leave your lips.

Even through the sensitivity of your subsiding orgasms, his hips did not halt, making him whine at how painfully good it all felt. If it hadn't been for your whines in protest, he would've continued until you were both crying. His body had no limit when it came to you.

Nuzzling against you, he kissed at whatever skin was available to him, humming at how soft you felt. Your hands caressed at him, pressing him onto you with a satisfied hum in return.

He relished in the silence for a while, shuffling so he could lay beside you without having to pull out. He could feel some of his cum spilling out of your cunt, causing him to scrunch up his nose. You must've noticed this, giggling at him.

"What?", he challenged, taking a teasing nibble from your skin.

"You act so shy, yet you fuck me an inch from my life," you laugh, nudging him for a kiss.

"I already embarrassed myself in front of you so many times, I needed to make a good impression," he rebutted.

"You made a good impression months ago, Jungkookie. Why do you think I spend thousands on you every month?", you teased, knowing he'd be too sheepish to come up with a comeback to that.

"Well, m-maybe you should stop paying me if we're going to be dating now," he braved, nervous despite his confident tone (and despite his cock still being buried deep in you).

"Oh? Dating? I don't recall anyone asking me out?"

He groaned, nibbling at you again and grinning at your giggle.

"Will you, Y/N, owner of my dick and heart, do me the honor of going out with me?"

You laughed again, making his cock twitch at the sudden vibration, "Hmm. Fuck me again and I'll think about it," you went to kiss him again.

It was hard to kiss you back with the smile taking over his face, but he did his best, flipping around to hover over you again, leaning down to kiss you.

"With pleasure ..."

to read short 2.2k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my jk monthly tier on kofi or patreon!

content:

wc: 742 (teaser); 2276 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"How come you don't stream anymore?", you asked whilst running your hands through your boyfriend's fluffy hair, enjoying the way he nuzzled into your chest for the utmost comfort.

"Hmm," he pondered for a bit, "I don't really need to anymore. Plus, it feels kinda wrong now that I have a girlfriend."

You hummed at that. He had a point. You were quite possessive over him ever since you became official, so it was probably for the best he didn't stream that often nowadays. However, you had to admit, you missed that period of time in which he'd do lewd acts on screen while you watched and egged him on on the chat. Those were the moments in which he was most vulnerable.

There were also a few instances after becoming official in which he'd stream while you were watching from behind the scenes, giving you the best view of the pathetic mess he'd become. However, these became scarce after some time.

"Why do you ask?", he added after a while.

Shrugging, you cuddled closer to him, "I dunno. I kinda miss watching you sometimes."

At this, he repositioned himself, twisting his neck so he could face you, "Huh?"

It was a kind of an embarrassing and maybe voyeuristic thing, but you did feel some weird enjoyment out of being able to provide for Jungkook as he jerked off to an audience back when you'd first met him. Knowing that it was you who could give him what he needed while others could only watch without having any sort of connection made you feel powerful. It made you feel like you had some sort of ownership over him. The nature of the dynamic was thrilling to you.

This was something you hadn't thoroughly explored with Jungkook yet. After becoming a couple, you had halted all the transactions to him upon his request. He claimed that he didn't want you to feel like his attraction to you had been born out of interest (something which he was able to demonstrate time and time again). Despite your constant insistence that you'd never feel that way, he insisted, though still remained living with you free of charge. He explored other fields of interest and began working a freelance job he enjoyed (with your help), shifting your dynamic into a more ordinary one.

You thoroughly agreed with any and every change he deemed necessary in order to feel more comfortable with your relationship. But despite this, you still missed the days in which you felt like Jungkook was eating at the palm of your hand — the power and control that came with it and the desperation it had driven into Jungkook up until the point of desperation in which he finally begged to have you.

"I assumed you'd be more possessive than that," he responded, "I thought you'd rather keep me to yourself."

"That's kinda true, but ... I also liked that, uh, desperation you used to show in your streams," you blushed at your own admission.

"Oh," he breathed, "W-well, I could always-"

"No, Kookie, I don't want to push you to do something you wouldn't want to do anymore," you reassured, shuffling on the couch so he'd be able to sit up and face you.

"I just mean- if there's anything you want me to do, I'll do it. You're my girlfriend, and you've already done so much for me, y'know? There's nothing I wouldn't do for you," he rebutted, staring at you with nothing but sincerity in his eyes.

You bit your lip, pondering whether or not you wanted your boyfriend to know about the sinister thoughts you'd always had about him — the thoughts of him in utter desperation as you gave him whatever it was he needed most at that moment.

But there wad something in his eyes; a look that showed you that his words were truthful. The boy wanted nothing more than to please you. He'd do anything you wanted, and that thought made you burn inside.

This was how you found yourself sitting in front of a deprived Jungkook by the end of the night, tied up and already on the verge of his third stolen orgasm of the night. As wicked as you felt, his eyes continued to tell the truth — he was enthralled by it all. As much as you loved a desperate Jungkook, it seemed as if he loved to be taken care of just as much.

...

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januaryembrs · 8 months

Text

TROUBLE ALMOST ALL MY LIFE | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader

Description: The ONE time the BAU needs you + the FOUR times you need them.

word count: 24k (what on earth was I thinking)

trigger warnings: mentions of spencers addictions + use + side affects. MOMMY ISSUES thankyou ambassador Prentiss. hostage scene + injuries. mentions of forced/pressured marriage. fem!reader. reader and Emily struggle to bond.

authors note: We never meet Emily's dad nor do we see a picture so while reader is given a nickname of Bugsy, she still keeps her real name (no use of y/n) and is given ZERO physical descriptors. ALL of my fem!readers should feel included here, let me know if this is not the case! also I don't speak any language besides English however she does speak many because of her mom, so I really tried to get it right, message me if I'm being stupid!!

series masterlist | next chapter

[this] means its spoken in another language.

—

‘trouble on my left, trouble on my right,

I’ve been facing trouble almost all my life’

1. the one where you become a translator.

“I’ll make some calls, I may still have some friends in the Eastern countries,” Ambassador Prentiss announced to the room, standing from her place on the plush sofa.

A case had landed quite literally in Emily’s lap when her mother had come by that morning asking for Hotch, a Russian migrant looking for her father with a ransom note and a sliced off finger shoved through her mailbox, wedding ring still attached.

It wasn’t every day Emily wished she’d brushed up on her Russian, but today of all days she was struggling to keep up.

“We don’t have much time, we need a division of labour,” Hotch’s serious face settled, the time constraints making him just that bit more dictatorial, “Morgan, someone needs to go to the Chernus’s house in Baltimore in case they are contacted again,”

“What about the language barrier?” Derek raised, smoothing a hand over the short scruff of his beard, “We can’t have the unsub speaking with the family directly. He could say anything to them without us knowing,”

Bugsy would hate to admit she fit the criteria for youngest daughter of a workaholic mother and distant father to a tea, but Emily would say different.

Elizabeth Prentiss had never been a warm woman; Emily used to tell her the scowl was a side effect of the overplucking of her eyebrows, not the serious nature of her job. Her youngest girl once said her mother’s lips looked like she’d sucked a lemon. Of course they admired her work, but world peace meant jack shit to a little girl wanting nothing more than a mother’s hug.

Despite the fact she’d pushed away her husband and both her daughters in favour of her career, the one useful thing about being the Ambassador’s daughter wasn’t just the money, but the widespread culture the girls had been crammed full of since they could so much as beg for a sippy cup.

“Baltimore, you say?” Emily asked Hotch with a somewhat doubtful wince, “I mean you could always-”

“Absolutely not,” Her mother cut her off, rubbing the stress lines already creasing her forehead at the very notion of her other daughter, despite the fact Emily hadn’t even finished her thought.

Emily’s sigh was a reflex, the years of her mother cutting her off sparking the frustration on instinct.

“She lives right in the city, Mother, it can’t hurt to have her just talk for them-” Emily tried to bargain, only for the sharp mouthed Ambassador shoot her a frown.

“End of discussion, Emily,” Elizabeth snipped, her manicured fingernails twitching with annoyance, “Your sister is much too young for an assignment so serious,”

Emily rolled her eyes with a scoff, as if the two had slipped back into the role of rebellious teenager and scathing mother without much thought.

“She's twenty-two, mom. She’s getting her masters degree for Christ sakes, she’s not ‘too young’,” The dark headed woman fought back, clicking her pen a few times as if the spring loaded ink would take away some of the temper Elizabeth seemed to flare up.

Her mother’s lips pursed, in the way Bugsy hated, in the way that meant she was going to be mean.

“Immature may have been a better word, then,” She replied, and Emily seemed to pause. She couldn’t argue with that. “Or perhaps lazy, or puerile; callow, wild, irresponsible. Would you like me to name more?”

“Asinine would be a good term; deriving from the Latin asinus it not only means foolish, but to be stubborn and lazy like an ass,” Spencer input helpfully to the Ambassador, only for his bright smile to fade when he saw the daggers Emily stared at him with, “Sorry, I love word games,” He muttered into his lap.

“Asinine. Perfect, Dr Reid,” Elizabeth said, and Emily could only roll her eyes harder.

Hotch huffed, the victim’s daughter watching between the two women’s quarrel with wet eyes, the ice box with her father’s finger clenched tightly in her lap, the cold of the limb bleeding into his own gaze.

“Unfortunately, Ambassador Prentiss, despite just how asinine your daughter might be, Morgan is right. Having the Unsub possibly speaking with the family without us understanding what he’s saying could prove fatal,” He explained, ignoring the way the older woman’s mouth scrunched in bitterness. They didn’t need to be profilers to see that despite how tempered the relationship between Emily and her mother was, a tension seemed to fall between the women the moment the younger Prentiss was mentioned.

Spencer was sure he was the only person who even knew Emily had a little sister.

“Very well, but don’t be surprised when you find your hands full of the girl,” Elizabeth said with a shake of her head as she led the victims, a mother and daughter that seemed to cling to one another for comfort as if to rub salt in her matriarchal wound, into the break room to get away from the frosty atmosphere that now lingered around the table.

Emily sighed, picking around her fingernails the way she did when she was bothered.

“I’m going to hate these next words that are gonna come out of my mouth,” She started with a long exhale, “But my mother’s right. Bugsy is a handful. Just try not to get her wound up, that girl smells fear,” She looked to Reid who seemed none the wiser, “I’m talking to you, wonder boy. She’ll eat you up and spit you right back out,”

Spencer gulped quietly.

Derek only chuckled, slapping a hand down onto Emily’s shoulder, “Relax, Prentiss. Your mom’s just got you all worried. Need I remind you I grew up with two sisters? This will be a piece of cake,”

–

Those were the famous last words of Derek Morgan.

Loud, heavy metal music jumped through the wooden door, so loud Morgan worried his three polite knocks would go unheard as the two of them waited outside her dorm for her to answer. Morgan was about to knock again, figuring the music had drowned out the first lot, when the door swung open and a frown the spitting image of Emily’s stressed expression met their gaze.

She looked so different to their Prentiss, but the way she seemed already scorned by the two of them told them they had the right woman.

“Miss Prentiss?” Morgan asked formally, though he felt the warmth grow when he caught sight of a beat up friendship bracelet around her wrist amongst newer gold chains, five white blocks spelling out her sister’s name pulling tight on her skin, as if she’d quickly outgrown the thing but hadn’t the heart to remove it.

It was then that he and Reid seemed to both reel back slightly at the fact she was standing in a large shirt, ratty around the edges, and what seemed to be a pair of men's boxers covering her bottom half, clearly not suspecting particularly important visitors.

She looked him head to toe with a frown, a dozen piercings in her ears, her hair highlighted with streaks of cardinal red, as if he was the one confronting her in his underwear, before she moved onto Spencer, who’s face seemed to be getting hotter by the second as he forced his eyes away from her bare legs.

“Are you guys strippers? Did someone send strippers to my door?” She asked, strawberry gum smacking between her lips as her gaze seemed to finish mulling over Spencer’s tall form and returned to Morgan.

“Emily sent us.” Reid said shortly, the music blaring in his ears making it difficult to focus on what it was she was saying, “As co-workers, no-not strippers. We’re with the FBI,”

He hated loud noises anyway, cringed at the sound of particularly cutting rock songs, but since he’d developed his … problem, the dilaudid had him feeling like someone was clawing at his skull, tugging his brain through his ears.

“Emily sent you here?” She asked with a scoff, looking the two up and down again. They both easily caught the way her face hardened, “Are pigs flying today or something?”

“We’re here to ask for your help on a case,” Spencer rushed through a sweaty brow, “Emily said you’d be able to act as a translator for us and some Russian citizens who are being targeted,”

She sighed sceptically, crossing her arms and leaning against the door frame, “Any strippers or non-strippers can fraud an ID. Emily’s name was in the paper just the other week. I’m gonna need a little more than that,”

She keeps track of her sister despite the supposed distance between them. Spencer was quick to profile, his mind whirring at all the ways she reminded him of her sister down to the way she raised her eyebrows expectantly at them.

“Emily was born October twelfth, 1970 at 7:12am, graduated from Garfield High School in 1989,” Spencer said as if reporting the weather, her eyes narrowing in on him all the more coldly, “She attended Chesapeake Bay University and speaks six languages, as I expect you do from moving so often with your mother. She coined your nickname Bugsy from your childhood love of ladybugs, which she said you grew out of by the time you turned eleven yet the name stuck, though you still like counting the spots to identify their species. Your parents split when you were five and your father moved in with his now wife, born September ninth-”

“Alright- alright. What are you, living in her walls?” She interrupted incredulously, before turning her attention to Derek who seemed to hide a chuckle with a cough. “Either you really are a stripper or you’re a terrible friend,”

“She loves Kurt Vonnegut,” Derek held his finger as if to prove her entirely wrong, although not much else came to him. Maybe he was a bad friend, he thought guiltily, or maybe he simply lacked an eidetic memory like the wonder boy next to him, who had been about to tell her how old she was when Emily’s pet betta fish died, “Slaughterhouse 5?”

Rolling her eyes, she grunted at them, kicking her door open for them to enter.

“Everyone loves Vonnegut; only losers under a rock dislike Vonnegut,” She drawled, edging back into her room, the heavy bass rock growing in volume as they followed her in, “I’ll be ready in a second- Emily’s always bugging me about wearing pants,” She said vaguely, scanning around the dirty dorm, until she found one particular pair of jeans laying half under her bed, quickly yanking them up her legs. “Come in, come in.”

She flicked the speakers way down to which Spencer took a breath of relief. His eyes fell to the laptop that had been set up on her desk, the five different textbooks littered around the spare space, energy drinks and empty mugs filling the cracks where he could barely see the generic white of the table top, his nose crinkling. About as gross as he’d expect from a college student.

“Emily said your Russian was pretty good,” Derek made conversation, his eyes wandering over the various posters plastered over her walls, some fraying round the edges from where she had likely been moved from bedroom to bedroom when the Prentiss’s inevitably had to move country again.

“Yeah,” She snarked, pulling a nicer top over her head, “Kinda tends to happen when you live in Russia,”

Morgan raised his eyebrows to Spencer who seemed to give him the same look back, though the latter was biting back a snicker at her words.

How in the hell was she the Ambassador’s daughter?

–

“This all involves Russian Mafia, it’s really beefed up here the last ten years or so,” Agent Cramer, a tall, slim man who looked entirely overwhelmed by the workload on his shoulders reported, as she listened intently.

She had been somewhat de-briefed in the car, Emily messaging her for the first time since Christmas, the message a simple: “Have you met with Morgan and Reid yet? Make sure to put on pants,” to which she sent her a thumbs up emoji. She didn’t have much to say to her at the moment, barely even knew her sister anymore.

“It started off mainly in New York and LA but they send lieutenants from the old country,” Cramer went on, and she caught Reid scratching his arm beneath his shirt. She knew it was mozzy weather, and he was already under the blaring sun in a little sweater, it wouldn’t surprise her if he felt a bit prickly.

“Pahkans,” She interrupted, the man named Gideon shooting her a glance as she dug through her purse.

“Your Mom do much work about the Mafia?” He asked, as she produced a clear nail varnish.

“Here and there, I had to sit with her in her office for a whole Summer once when I got caught sneaking out. Picked up a few things, though,” She said, holding the polish out to Spencer, nodding to his arm, “Here. Supposed to help bug bites,”

He looked at her as if he wanted to say something, perhaps question her sources for such an old wives tale, but he stopped himself quickly, taking the varnish out of her hand with a dejected nod.

“Thankyou,” He muttered, shoving it in his pocket.

Three months he’d been in this rabbit hole. She had noticed it in a matter of hours.

“They open up branch offices in other cities. Baltimore, Saint Louis, Chicago, Dallas, the list goes on,” Cramer added, nodding at her words, “They’re mainly offshoots of the Odessa Mafia and they’re especially tough to crack from a law enforcement standpoint. I mean beside being well organised with sophisticated technical equipment, there’s Vory v Zakone to contend with,”

“The thieves code, eighteen principles they live by,” Reid jumped in before she could, to which she nodded as Gideon looked to her for more.

“It means ‘thief in law’, or ‘thief with code’. It's a system of repeatedly jailed convicts that have been crowned or ‘made’ with a strict list of ideals, breaking them usually means death,” She explained, kicking a stone between her feet.

“It’s like bible to these guys. We’re not gonna be turning any of them informer anytime soon,” Cramer said. Gideon seemed to tune the three of them out however, his gaze locking on the house across the street, where a curtain twitched, and a man’s face appeared in the window, watching the crime scene with guilt.

“Then we’ll need a witness who will talk,” Gideon replied, heading straight towards the neighbour who seemed just a little too invested in what was happening, much more than a concerned third party should be. Though, she had barely noticed, digging through her purse once more for chapstick.

“So, you study Russian or something?” Cramer asked as she applied it gently, Spencer swore he could smell the cherry flavour from where he stood beside her.

“I lived in Moscow until I was six, moved back to France, then back to Italy, then Algeria for a bit. Bounced around Europe for a bit longer, but I still speak better Russian than anything else,” She clarified, and she saw Cramer’s eyebrows shoot up, “Military brat except I don’t get the cool discount at the store,”

“You must have had a lot of friends though, going to so many schools,” Spencer added, and though there was nothing teasing about his tone, she laughed sharply anyway.

“You’re funny,” She snarked, but smiled at him anyway.

Spencer had never been called funny in his life. ‘Funny looking’, ‘funny sounding’ maybe, but never funny.

In fact he was so confused by what she had meant, whether it had been a taunt or genuine that he almost missed the sound of the whole street locking their front doors, dead bolting their lives away when a black prius, an expensive one at that, pulled through the street and swerved into park next to them.

“Guess who,” Cramer bit, her eyes ripping away from where Gideon had the door slammed in his face.

Detective Cramer aged by about five years when two tall men got out of the luxury car, opening the door for a shorter man in the back seat, their faces thunder.

“You familiar with them?” She asked, shoulder brushing against Spencer as she turned to watch the men approach, entirely aware of the .9mm on each of their hips.

“Arseny Lysowsky,” The detective identified, his voice cold, eyeing the two men who flanked the leader, towering over them.

“Agent Cramer, how are you?” Lysowsky smiled at him, which oddly enough seemed somewhat real, as he also took stock of the three other people around him. His eyes lingered on her for a moment, noting her lack of gun and badge, trying to decipher if she was local or just a very unprepared fed.

“Lysowsky, what brings you out?” Cramer asked, a tightness to his tone, his hand all too eager to grab his own pistol.

“I heard Chernuses had problems,” He kept it vague, didn’t reveal too much, and looked back at the victim’s house with a scorned frown.

“How did you hear that?” Gideon challenged, stance unwavering as the mob leader turned to meet his cold gaze.

“And you are?” He asked, a sinister smile on his face that flipped her stomach. She didn’t like the tension that had overcome the little patch of sidewalk they took up, and she was quick to notice how Spencer moved towards her.

He, by far, wasn’t the best shot on the team, but he was sure Hotch and Prentiss would have his and Morgan’s heads if any harm came to her.

“Churneses said they hadn’t told anyone,” Agent Gideon ignored his question, hands firmly planted on his hips. If he was unnerved by the criminal in front of him, he never showed it, not even when Lysowsky’s grin widened horribly.

“It is a small community. Word gets out,” He said simply, looking past him to the neighbours house that had kicked Gideon to the curb, “Are you a friend of Gorban’s?”

A second of silence passed between them, neither of them backing down from the moral standoff they’d engaged in.

“Mr Gorban wouldn’t talk to me,” Gideon admitted, and Arseny only smiled again, flicking a look at the house behind him, as if hearing his dog had obeyed without command.

“Would you like me to talk to him for you?” The threat was there clear as day, clear enough to have Gideon’s eyes narrow, “I can’t promise something will come of it,”

“You!” In a second, Natalya, the victim she’d briefly met when Morgan had pulled up around an hour before, had stormed out of her house, her black kitten heels clicking against the concrete, “Where’s my father? He has my father!”

“Wait a minute,” Derek called, restraining her where she stood, trying to pull his muscled arm from her shoulder, “Do you know he has your father?”

“He’s responsible for all of this,” She spat, her eyes cold as she glared at the three men with vitriol hate, “Why everyone’s afraid, him and his animals,” She threw a hand up to his bodyguards that seemed barely contained by Cramer’s silencing hand.

“I am only here to help,” Lysowsky replied, confident and calm in his words, though not as taunting as the agents would have thought, as if he truly cared for her.

A vast difference to the sadistic mob boss Cramer’s team had painted him to be.

“Help?” She laughed woefully, tears in her eyes, “You’re a dog,”

“Natalya,” Arseny said in a warning, the way a teacher would to a student, as her breath rattled in her chest through a weep.

“How exactly can you help them?” Bugsy braved to speak, Gideon and Reid both flashing her a look. She’d always had trouble holding her tongue.

Lysowsky turned his attention to her then, his eyes running down her figure, still deciphering whether she was armed; she looked much too young to be an agent.

“In any way that they’d like me to, darling,” He replied, the disdain in her frown clearly not deterring him in the slightest, though again the act of concern held up in his own grimace, “As I said this is a small community. If one is in pain, we’re all in pain.”

Natalya weeped behind Morgan, sniffling as the boss made his way over to her, “Natalya, [you didn’t have to bring in outsiders],”

The younger woman’s ears pricked up as he spoke in his native language, Spencer’s eyes flicking to her from behind his sunglasses.

“[Let me help you],” He continued, taking a step towards Natalya, unthreatening yet she saw Morgan tense, his fingers twitching towards his gun.

“[My family will never come to you for help],” Natalya hissed back, also in Russian, her face contorted in disgust, “[Get away from my house],”

“[You are not right, Natalya],” He replied, yet again the concern in his eyes was either genuine or very well faked, “[You have made the wrong decision],”

Taking a step away from the victim that wept with a scorned sneer, he looked back to the agents, noting the way the youngest of them glared at him hotly, before retreating to his car.

“What did he say? Did he threaten you, Natalya?” Morgan asked, the woman watching the group of men drive away, as if Mr Chernus wasn’t still missing and they hadn’t just bumped themselves up to number one of the suspects list. “Talk to us and we can do something about it,”

“He said I made the wrong decision,” She said wetly, frustration turning on Derek as he pushed her for an answer, “I hope I didn’t,”

With that she stormed off back into her house, the same stomping of her kitten heels in her wake, leaving the agents to all look between one another before they simultaneously turned to look at Bugsy, questions hovering on all of their lips.

“What did he say exactly?” Gideon asked without frills, a hand rubbing his brow. Relaying the information, the men’s faces all drew into frowns as they heard Lysowsky’s parting statement. Gideon huffed, turning to Morgan and gesturing for him to follow Natalya inside.

“Morgan, keep an eye on her, Reid and I are going to Cramer’s office to look over the files,” He looked at her then, worry lines littering his otherwise friendly face, damn near scowling as she looked over at him, “You are here to interpret, you understand? You do not speak to the suspects, that’s our job.” He growled, watching her with disappointment, the same tone a father used when scolding a petulant child, “Do you have any idea how much danger you could put yourself in? These guys won’t hesitate to take you out the second we’re not around, kid,”

“But-” She started with a bite, though her whole fight left her when he silenced her with a raised hand.

“Buts are for cigarettes, kiddo,” He interrupted, and Spencer winced slightly, knowing he’d heard that one a few hundred times when he’d first started under Gideon and had yet to mature entirely. Reid watched something rebellious flare in her eyes, and he worried for a moment she might just slap his boss for the patronising tone he took, “Just keep your mouth shut, you’re doing great so far,”

She opened her mouth to protest, only to then register his words entirely and stay silent once more, appreciating his praise with a guilty smile. For once, she listened.

–

The grandfather clock chimed to tell them it was merely 11am; two hours until the unsub would start cutting more if they didn’t get the ransom fee, two hours to figure out who wanted Natalya’s family to suffer.

Said woman paced her living room at the sound of the hour, as Bugsy picked over the knick knacks on her fireplace, a small smile teasing her lips when she saw a picture of three small children grinning toothily at the camera.

She had never gotten any photo’s similar, Emily being fourteen years older. The majority of their childhood photos consisted of a very grumpy teenager holding her baby sister that seemed to squirm in the tight, formal dresses Elizabeth Prentiss had forced them into, identical scowls on their faces as they were made to sit for the picture.

There were some good memories, ones where Emily let herself be a sister and not a mom, where she would put makeup on her for fun and do her hair, let her have all the clothes out her wardrobe she thought looked nice, reading to her before bed, even letting her sister keep her pet corn snake when she left home for good.

But now, it seemed like she was too caught up in her super serious grown up job to give a shit that her sister lived just an hour away. Still messaged each other for holidays, but the last few times she’d braved a call to the eldest Prentiss, it had gone unanswered. They argued the majority of the time they spoke, or there was an awkward long silence in between words, whichever was worse, but they each knew the other would come running if they were to ever need them so desperately.

“Are you hungry? I could make something?” Natalya offered kindly, Derek having a poke through her collection of books that sat on the end table, though he’d have a tough job reading them as she’d already caught most of them were in her home language.

“Oh, no thanks. I’m fine,” He replied with a small smile, putting down the books to calm the clearly on edge woman that looked to the twenty-something year old hopefully.

She shook her head, “I’m good, thanks,” which seemed to deflate her entirely as she sat next to Derek with a sigh.

“I guess I’m like my mother. When she’s upset, she cooks,” Natalya said with a sad huff of a laugh, running a hand through her short, dark hair.

“Yeah, mine does too. I think that’s just a mom thing,” He replied, and Bugsy felt the two of them look at her as her finger traced the old brass ornaments gently, “How about you, baby Prentiss?”

She snorted, “You’re kidding, right?” smiling bitterly, “My mom never cooked for us, she said we needed to figure it out for ourselves rather than relying on the staff. Didn’t stop her from trying to end world hunger though,”

It wasn’t lost to Morgan the way her eyes trained on the picture of Natalya and her mother, cuddled together with genuine love in their embrace, the snarky humour as she spoke, the same longing Emily seemed almost too good at hiding from them.

“Your mother is a great woman,” Natalya complimented, though she missed the way the girl’s face steeled over, chewing her bottom lip as if to stop herself from snapping at the woman who meant well. She said nothing. “Where is your mother?” She turned her attention back to Derek who seemed the more talkative of the two of them.

“Chicago. That’s where I’m from,” He replied, watching Bugsy turn away from the two of them to inspect more of the Chernus’s trinkets on their walls.

“I’m from Dolgoprudny. Just North of Moscow.” Natalya replied. Opening her mouth to add something else, she was cut off by a knock at the door and the three of them froze in their place.

“Are you expecting someone?” Morgan asked Natalya in a hushed tone, reaching for his gun and heading for the door.

She shook her head, “No,” She whispered back. Morgan pulled the curtain back the smallest inch to see a small blonde boy staring back, a box in his hands and a bored look on his face.

It all happened too fast from there, Natalya opening the door for the neighbourhood kid, opening the box to see a decapitated ear, the blood fresh and pooling in the bottom of the box. It couldn’t have been taken longer than an hour or so ago, unless they were keeping the parts on ice.

Bugsy’s hand slapped over her mouth, Natalya’s scream piercing through her as she shoved the box into Derek’s hands, fleeing to the toilet, and she heard the woman retching. Part of her felt the same nausea settle in her stomach, looking away from the body part with a wince as Derek got straight on the phone to Gideon.

“They didn’t wait, man. They sent a box with-” He swallowed thickly, “With Mr Chernus’s ear inside.”

Gideon replied, and whatever it was, it had Derek looking back to her. He agreed, hanging up the phone and rooting through his pockets, producing a set of rattling keys, holding them out for you between the tips of his fingers.

“Gideon wants you, kid. He said they’re at the Little Kiev restaurant, they’re going to talk to Lysowsky,” Morgan said, grimacing as he held the ear away from her, “You sure you’ll be okay to drive?”

“I’d rather be on the road than look at what’s in that box,” She said in disgust, taking the keys and heading out to the car.

She thought it best for everyone she didn’t tell him she hadn’t yet got her licence as she made her way over to the restaurant.

“Reid and I will do the talking, just see if anything he’s saying connects with Vory v zakone, think you got that?” Gideon instructed her the second she got out of the car, taking the keys and handing them back to Reid who gave her a small nod.

“We think the reason it was Mr Chernus who was targeted has something to do with the code,” Reid explained, his hands in his pockets as the three of them approached the restaurant, “You said earlier you understood the tenants,”

“Why me, though? I thought I was just translating?” She repeated Gideon’s earlier words, almost cocky that they needed her.

“Lysowsky would feel the need to show face in front of men like Morgan and Cramer, even in front of Natalya since she lives locally. Between the three of us, he had less reputation to uphold, less so with a young woman like yourself,” Reid added, holding the door open for her to go in front.

And so there she was, trailing behind Gideon and Reid over to where Lysowsky sipped a spoonful of borscht, as she tried not to marvel at the grandeur of the establishment inside. Clearly, Arsney had money to build a place like this, and wasn’t afraid to be flashy about it either, that much was apparent from the other clientele that tended to their beers around their own tables, Rolex watches and designer shoes adorning nearly every one of them. She hated to think of how many ears or fingers those suits had cost.

“Would you like something to eat?” He asked, a chunk of bread in his hand dipping into the thick sauce, seemingly unbothered that they were there, “This borscht is exquisite, it’s my mother’s old country recipe,”

“Didn’t you forsake all your relatives when you swore the thieves code?” Reid asked, which she guessed was hit foot in to get Lysowsky to talk.

“I didn’t forsake her recipes,” Lysowsky replied with a shrug, looking to her where she seemed to be staring at his plate, “Borscht?”

She shook her head, her nose wrinkling, “Much preferred stroganoff, mom used to force me to have borscht to make sure I ate my veggies,”

His eyebrows raised, surprise written over his face, before he gave a short laugh.

“[Where are you from]?” He asked in his mother tongue, gesturing for the three of them to sit down, though his eyes lit up as he watched her carefully.

“[I was born in DC, but my mother worked in Moscow for a few years],” She answered shortly, and he seemed to find it even funnier that the near child they’d brought along on their case spoke as fluently as he did.

Laughing with a heavy hand smacking on the table, he gestured to a nearby waiting staff to come over.

“What are you having then, borscht for the gentle man?” He looked at Reid and Gideon, the former shaking his head while Gideon nodded with an awkward smile.

“I’d love a taste,” He said, though any enthusiasm seemed to have drained out of his voice.

“And what is the little lady having?” Lysowsky asked, his eyes falling back to her, as she straightened in her seat.

She chanced a quick glance to Gideon, who nodded at her to play his game. She had not expected to be so deep in criminal territory when they’d said they needed a translator, and truly they hadn’t planned on getting her in the field until they realised she would know much more about this than they would.

“Do you have sharlotka?” She asked, returning his smile wearily as he clicked at the waiter who all but bolted to the kitchen.

“A sweet tooth. I like it,” Arseny replied, shovelling a heap of beets into his mouth, “Our favourite was always Leningradsky,”

“Ours?” She prompted, giving a polite thanks to the waiter who returned too quickly with a slice of cake. She caught Spencer glancing at the bowl with intrigue, the hunger clear on the quiet man’s face. Gently pushing the bowl and clean spoon towards him, he flicked a look up at her, “Apple cake,” She whispered, sending him a small smile, “Really yummy with the sugar on top,”

“Mine and my mother’s,” Arseny replied, though Gideon and Reid both caught how he paused before he replied, as if he had to think about the answer he was giving; the oldest tell that it wasn’t entirely true, “We didn’t have much when I was a boy, but that was always our dessert of choice,”

She stopped for a mere second, missing the moment when Spencer spooned the tiniest bite of the cake into his mouth, trying to ignore the way his tongue exploded in the sweet, fruit taste. He hadn’t eaten anything properly in days, and maybe that was why it tasted so good, but more likely it was just the fact that everything sweet tasted even better when he was on his come downs.

“We need to talk, Arseny,” Gideon interrupted, ignoring the way Spencer pined to go back in for a second mouthful, but chose to hand the bowl back to her with a small smile.

“We are on first name basis?” Lysowsky asked, shaking his head, and she took a small bite of the sweet cake for herself, “I still don’t even know who you are,”

“I think I understand something about this,” Gideon replied, his thumbs tapping together, the waiter returning with his borscht, “You have a problem,”

“I do?” The pahkan titled his head at the agent, the annoyance clear on his face.

“That’s why you came to the Chernus’ house this morning,” Gideon answered, unbothered as he began to scoop the borscht onto the spoon, the apple cake in her own mouth going down a treat.

She kept her head down, took tiny bites of the dessert that certainly tasted like a fresh baked sharlotka. But her thoughts lingered on what Lysowsky had said, about his own favourite pudding.

It made no sense that he would have ever tasted Leningradsky shortbread, not for the time that he was born, nor with the amount of money he claimed his family lacked. Infact, the way he fully pronounced his vowels, the akanye, the stress he put on certain parts of his words, all pointed to the same dialect you’d heard back in Moscow, more central than anything else.

So how on earth would he have eaten the so-called ‘Royal Cake’ that had only been made eight hours from there, in the town it grew its name from.

There was something glaringly obvious about his story missing.

“A man like me?” She tuned back into the conversation, swallowing another mouthful down as Gideon took another bite himself, though it seemed the topic had turned sour as Arseny wiped his mouth with the corner of his napkin.

“Four watchtowers and a convict signifies a stay in prison,” Spencer cut in, nodding towards the tattoos branded across his knuckles, “Each one of those crosses symbolises an individual sentence,”

“Twenty three years in prison in the Ural mountains,”

But she was still stuck on what it was she was missing. It had been such an odd thing to lie about, particularly when he’d even admitted himself that they hadn’t had much money, so he clearly hadn’t been lying to fake a reputation.

So why lie?

She was ripped out of her stumped silence when Natalya entered the restaurant, her voice grabbing the men’s attention immediately.

“Mr Lysowsky. You said you could help me,” She said, her purse over her shoulder and her own car keys gripped tightly in her hand as if she’d all but thrown herself out the vehicle to get there faster.

“Don’t you already have help,” Lysowsky snapped, clearly Gideon had dug under his skin enough to garner a reaction.

“I made a mistake,” Natalya replied, barely meeting Bugsy’s gaze as she stared at her from her seat at the table. “I talked to my father on the phone,”

The girl frowned at her, “That’s a lie,” It came out before she could hold herself, brows furrowed at whatever it was she was trying to pull. Gideon said her name in a reprimand, though he too was looking at the woman as if she’d grown a second head.

“Thankyou for coming, but I don’t need your help,” The woman met her confused look with a saddened expression, nodding to her solemnly.

Leave it alone, she seemed to be saying, there’s nothing more I want you to do.

And with that, the two of them left the restaurant, Natalya walking by his side obediently, her purse tucked in close under her arm, as Morgan and Cramer filed in from the parking lot, watching their only leads drive away without a fight.

–

The team were quick to head back to Natalya’s home, only to find the ear missing and the finger gone too, the only evidence left of any crime being committed leaving with the victim’s daughter herself.

“She’s not here, and the garbage was never taken out,” Morgan said with a grimace as he walked down the front steps to meet the four of them on the sidewalk.

“Her dad just went missing, surely we can cut the girl some slack-” Bugsy words were hidden in a huff, rolling your eyes at the man who cut a glance to her.

“No, no. When Hotch first talked to us, he said she noticed her father’s car in the driveway when she took the garbage out,” Morgan explained, his shades blocking the way the cogs turned behind his dark eyes.

“Right?” Reid asked, his own sunglasses now covering his eyes that winced at the brightness, surrounding them.

“Garbage can in the kitchen is completely full, she never took it out.”

“She lied,” Gideon said with finality, the penny beginning to drop for him too.

“She could be half way back to Dolgo-whatever by now,” Morgan scoffed, his arms smacking against his side as the lightbulb went off over her head, the final puzzle piece falling into place.

“Dolgoprudny?” Spencer asked, exchanging a glance with Cramer, “Isn’t that where Lysowsky’s from-”

“Yes, YES, of course!” She exclaimed, grabbing onto Spencer’s arm as he spoke.

He looked at her with wide eyes, not that she could see since his shades blocked the way, only to feel her shake him harder in the midst of her enthusiasm. Part of him wanted to rip his arm out of her grip, waiting for the sickness to crawl up his throat at a strangers germs touching him, but the oddest part of him reasoned she had the same germs as Emily did, that the fifty percent DNA the women shared negated the fact she was a stranger, just as it did when he met Jack. Jack had Hotch germs. Bugsy had Emily’s. He didn’t feel so sick thinking of it like that.

“I knew I was missing something,” She said, turning to Gideon, “He was lying before, about his favourite dessert. There was no way he could have had Leningradsky with his mother. Given his age, at that time in Soviet Russia, shortbread was incredibly expensive, only extremely wealthy families could have eaten it. That, and given the Central dialect he speaks in, I’d pinpointed he lives somewhere near or around Moscow, which means there was no way he was eating that cake considering it was only ever baked in one shop at first, one way up in Leningrad, where St Petersburg is now, like nine hours away from Moscow-”

“What’s your point?” Cramer asked, tired of the somewhat slew of thoughts she’d been saving until she knew for sure what she meant.

“Before when he said it was ‘our favourite’, I don’t think he was talking about him and his mother,” She explained, looking to see if Spencer at least understood what she was getting at.

“It was him and his own child…” Spencer finished, as Morgan’s phone began ringing.

“Yeah, what?” He asked, the frustration clear in his tone that they were all still without the evidence needed to pin it on Lysowsky, “You’re sure? Uh-huh. Okay, thanks doll,”

The four of them looked at him expectantly as he nodded to her, “Garcia just got into the bank’s system, somebody wired 500 thousand dollars into the account ten minutes ago,”

“Who wired it?” Spencer asked, though he was still reeling from the way she’d touched him, the way her voice went up about five octaves and a dozen decibels.

“She didn’t say, but the name on the account is Lyov Fulenko. She says that’s Lysowsky’s wife’s maiden name. Fulenko.” Morgan replied, and her brows furrowed.

“Why did she bring us into this?” Gideon asked, though the solemn look on his face said he already knew, “Because she needed to put pressure on the other victim,”

Gideon headed towards Mr Gorban’s house once more, though it was clear he had already sketched out in his head who was their unsub and Natalya’s involvement, he simply needed the confirmation.

Morgan clapped a hand on her back, “Nice job, baby Prentiss. Those were some mean profiling skills out there,”

She frowned at him, scoffing, “I’m not a profiler, that’s Emily’s job. It was just basic linguistics really; more a display of how I need to lay off cake for a while.”

The man kissed his teeth with a grin, “Don’t put yourself down. What’s your degree even in?”

She shrugged, picking under her nails for something to do, “Individualised genomics and health.” She said as if it were child’s play, though Spencer’s head shot to her.

“Biotechnology?” He asked, and she glanced at him with a nod, “What’s your thesis on?”

Gideon had returned by the time he’s asked, and began corralling the two of them back to the car, “We’re heading back to the restaurant. We need to speak with Lysowsky again,”

But it had fallen on deaf ears as Spencer looked at her expectantly.

“Just some new research into prenatal screening, nothing too fun,” She simpered, climbing into the back seat as he nodded with her.

“I read a fascinating paper on the uses of hCG in a woman’s body-”

“Reid,” Gideon cut him off with a short glance from the front seat, “Continue this conversation once we’ve found Mr Chernus alive,”

Spencer blushed, feeling like a kid caught in the cookie jar, “Sorry, sir,” He looked over at her, only to see her hiding a smile to herself.

He thinks it was then he’d decided Emily had been wrong about her.

“You paid the ransom already,” Gideon said plainly, the four of them trailing behind him as he followed Lysowsky to a small seating area in the front of the restaurant. She could tell the whole way Spencer had been itching to ask her more questions about her paper, barely contained as his fingers had twitched in his lap, but he seemed to straighten himself out once she’d reached the restaurant, “You paid all the ransoms,”

“Sit,” The boss ordered, barely glancing at them as he held his strong whiskey up.

“Are they going to kill Mr Chernus?” Morgan asked, cutting to the chase as Lysowsky spared him a bored glance.

“No,” He replied shortly, the look on his face about as grumpy as when they’d left.

“The account is in the name of Lyov Fulenko. Lyov is a man’s name.” Spencer input, crossing his arms as the boss glared at him, “A son’s name. Vory v Zakone. Never have a family of your own. No wife. No children.”

“Lyov,” He looked at her then, gesturing to her with the glass of strong liquor, “You know what it means?”

“The Lion,” She replied gravely, steeling herself against his dark eyes.

“No one else would be so stupid,” Lysowsky ran a hand over his weathered face, swigging his drink as if it was the only thing keeping him talking. “At first it didn’t mean much. It was a way of letting him earn his own money. I could afford it, it came from the fund. And no one questions the use of the fund-”

“Where is he?” Gideon asked, his elbows on his knees as he leaned in.

“What else could I do?” He was ignored, “I couldn’t admit I wasn’t blessing the kidnappings, I couldn’t even admit my son existed.” He huffed when he saw Gideon’s face unmoving from the glower, his question still unanswered, “Chernus will be home in a few minutes. You should be there, he will need medical attention,” He shooed them away, with his final words, drink sloshing in his hand. His face darkened, impossibly so, and the five of them looked at him, something sad and remorseful shining back.

“What are you gonna do?” She asked, though she had a feeling she already knew the answer.

“Vory v Zakone.” He said heavily, nodding to her, “We take care of our own troubles.”

It was a silent journey back to the Chernus’ house.

Morgan and Reid pulled up to the campus, the younger girl in the back seat almost dozing off with the rhythmic hum of the engine, the evening sun much nicer on Spencer’s sensitive eyes.

“This is you, baby Prentiss,” Derek’s voice jolted her out of the half sleep she was in, straightening herself from where she had her head pressed against the window.

“Thanks,” She muttered, rubbing her eyes and unbuckling herself as they did the same, assuming they wanted to walk her back to her dorm since it had gotten dark, “I’ll be okay on my own, campus security should be out by now,”

“You sure?” Reid asked, flicking his watch up to his eyes to see the meagre 6:13pm staring back at him, “I thought they started at 7,”

She blinked at him, her eyebrows quirking for a moment, “How do you know that?”

“Johns Hopkins was my backup option- well actually it was my third, I much preferred Caltech’s curriculum, Yale was my second-” He started, flicking a glance to her where she waited for him to finish, “Not that Johns was bad, there were just better- alternative options out there-”

“Don’t shit your pants, I’m hardly the dean of the university,” She chuckled indignantly patting them both on the shoulder before sliding over to open the door, “Nice meeting you both, I’ll just get back to my mediocre college with my poor curriculum, nothing like the solid gold bathrooms at Caltech-”

“I never said that!” She laughed again, with her whole chest, at his defensive tone as she stepped out the car, hand on the door to shut it behind her.

Leaning down to give them both a wave goodbye, Derek’s voice stopped her again, “Baby Prentiss, do us all a favour and enrol yourself into forensics, we need more people on our team,”

Smirking at him, she shook her head, “Very funny. Never gonna happen. I like my little slides and samples, thankyou,”

Slamming the door on the two of them she headed for the front gates, swinging her purse over her shoulder. She was stopped by a hand on her shoulder, and she quickly realised she’d been too tired to even realise a set of footsteps jogging after her.

Maybe she should have taken that walk home after all.

Whirling around, her eyes widened as Spencer had clearly not been leader of the track team as he was half out of breath just from the few feet he’d covered, though she reckoned she could have guessed that seeing his lean ribs beneath his shirt.

He shoved a business card in her face as he caught his breath, though it was more just his name and credentials followed by a phone number.

“I-I don’t have email otherwise I would-” He huffed, scratching his forehead as she frowned and looked at him.

“I’ve never been hit on via business card before,” She bit her lip with a smile, reading over the card again as he choked on his words even more than before.

“N-no, I-” He spluttered, ignoring the way Morgan beeped the horn for him, seemingly in a debate with a ticket metre that had caught him parked on yellow, “If you needed us for anything, or if you needed a second pair of eyes for your thesis, I’m happy to help,”

“You don’t have faith in the dummy that got into Johns?” She asked, and his head couldn’t shake fast enough, though he seemed to catch her teasing and shared her smile, “Thanks, Dr Reid,”

“Spencer’s just fine,” He said, giving her a small nod and a wave as Morgan’s palm bounced on the horn a dozen times. She flashed him one more smile, pocketing his number and heading back to her dorm, wondering what the doctor would think about the paper due in tomorrow she’d yet to get started on.

+1. The one where you get arrested.

The case had been heavy. They’d felt it in the car on the way back to headquarters. A little girl, molested and groomed by her own uncle, his own wife covering for him.

His mother always told him love makes you do crazy things, but Spencer hoped that whatever part of him worth loving would at least stay sane by the time he found the one. He was loyal to his team, to his mother, but that was where he drew the line. He was loyal to his family, undoubtedly so.

Yet so was Emily.

The call came to the second SUV, her phone set up to hands free mode, quickly flicking to answer the call on speaker, the other half of the team ahead of them on the freeway.

“Prentiss, speaking. Who is this?” She spoke clearly to the unknown number, her knuckles going white at the wheel when she heard a nervous laugh.

“It’s me,” Her sister mumbled through the speaker, “You wouldn’t by any chance be near DC would you?”

She huffed, cursing the knack Prentiss women had for showing up at the worst times.

“Can’t this wait, I’m on the clock,” Emily hissed, her finger edging towards the ‘End Call’ button, “I’ll call you after,”

“Wait, wait, don’t hang up!” As if sensing her movements, she all but screeched, “This was my one phone call, they won’t let me have another,”

The car went silent for a moment, Spencer’s eyes narrowing on the dash from his place in the passenger seat, JJ also leaning forward from the back with a frown.

Emily grit her teeth, her upper lip twitching the way it did when she was mad.

“What do you mean by one phone call? Where are you?” She bit in a cautious tone, though knowing how reckless Bugsy tended to be, she had a pretty good idea.

The hesitation on the other end of the line was palpable, as was the way she awkwardly cleared her throat.

“Fairfax County Jail,” She murmured sheepishly, “But it wasn’t my fault, these assholes don’t know what they’re talking about, I swear-”

“Stay there and keep your mouth shut,” Emily ordered, her expression furrowing into a sneer, “And for the love of god don’t antagonise the officers,”

The agent didn’t even wait for a response, knowing it would probably be something snarky, her mind already racing at what the hell her sister could have done this time, every worst possible explanation jumping to the forefront.

“I’ll call Hotch and tell him to turn around,” JJ offered, her fingers already searching her contacts for their boss, as Emily sighed through her nose.

“Tell him not to worry, I’ll drop you guys back to headquarters, make my way there myself,” She said, picking the skin of her nail softly with her thumb.

“By the time we’ve reached Quantico, visiting times will be over and she’ll have to stay the night,” Spencer pointed out, his own surprise evident. Sure, she had certainly been a personality when they had met, but a criminal seemed a stretch.

“Maybe it would teach her a lesson,” Emily mused, shaking her head to herself, “Who am I kidding, that psycho would Shawshank her way out of there by dawn,”

“You don’t actually think she would hurt anyone do you?” JJ said, the dial tone ringing out from the phone she held to her ear.

“Wouldn’t put it past her. She once cut a girl's pigtail off for wearing the same dress as her on her birthday,” Emily winced as Spencer’s eyebrows shot into his hairline.

“I thought getting swirlied was bad,” He muttered, watching out the window as Emily made a U-turn at the traffic lights. He and the now twenty three year old had been bouncing research papers back and forth for a few months, the odd one every week, Bugsy even once joking it was much more interesting and riveting than foreplay, which had his face red hot at his desk.

She was like that, he’d quickly realised, had a vulgar sort of humour about her, yet he couldn’t help the snigger that came out whenever he’d receive one of his papers back through the mail with pink writing scrawled all over his ideas. The little hearts that dotted her exclamations whenever she wrote “AMAZING!”, the odd time she’d written “sexy ideas, doctor Reid” which he’d come to understand meant it was really good. He’d even gotten back the drawing at the end of the paper of a stickman of the two of them, his hair a curly scribble and a purple tie which told him immediately who was who, her line of a hand pointing at his caricature with the speech bubble, “everyone point and wave at the smart man,” which had made him laugh.

She was odd, toeing the line between childish and witty, nothing like the scholars he usually worked with, and the writing he usually sent back on her papers were all in standard black ink, his own pharmacist handwriting staring back at him as he crammed in his every thought of her research into the margins. If she couldn’t read it, she hadn’t said, but he liked to think she took notice of it all, even if it wasn’t strewn with stars and doodles and the occasional flirt he knew meant nothing. He knew her from her writing, knew her from her ideas that sometimes kept him up at night thinking more about them, but the two of them hadn’t spoken directly, most certainty hadn’t seen one another since that day with the Chernus’.

Emily hummed, fingers drumming on the wheel, entirely unaware of the thoughts rattling around in Spencer’s head, then again that’s how it always was, “I just pray to god she’s listened to me for once in her damn life and keeps quiet,”

“Fucking bitch. The nuns in Moscow hit harder than you,” She spat, blood dribbling from her split lip. She wasn’t entirely lying, but god did her mouth sing with pain as she tried to muffle a moan.

“You got jokes, pig lover?” The other woman asked, a tattoo covering half her cheek, her nose crooked from the shiner the Prentiss girl had already given her. “Won’t be fucking laughing when I’m done, bitch,” The woman was quick to tackle the girl around her stomach, slamming her into the hard concrete of the holding cell. Bugsy felt her skull rattle, the wind whooshing from her chest as rough hands grab her shirt and pin her down harder.

The younger girl reached the nerve under her opponent's armpit, the soft of her ribs, twisting until the woman gave a bark of shock, and she took the opportunity to shove her off, climbing on top of her as they both scrambled for some sort of control.

“I got one for you. What’s got a broken nose, a black eye and doesn’t know what’s good for her?” She swung twice as hard, the other women in the cell rattling against the bars as if watching a matador taunt a bull, the air thick with excitement as the two of them cursed eachother out.

Emily’s sigh was audible across the room as the wardens separated the cat fight, the largest of the officers all but grabbing her sister by the scruff of the neck like a feral beast, dragging her over with stubborn feet to where the BAU stood in the lobby, eyes widened at the state of her.

“You better start acting your age, little girl. Mommy’s not gonna be around forever to save you,” The officer hissed in her ear, manhandling her over to where Emily glared daggers into the side of her head. She knew that look, it was eerily similar to mom’s that time she’d been caught sneaking out of the house, something in the warm brown of Emily’s eyes frosting over into a cold blackness. Fury.

She chewed her words for a moment, waiting until the man had turned around with a grunt of acknowledgement to the badge Emily had flashed to get his attention, before she spoke.

“She’s not my mom, she's my sister, dumbass-” Emily slapped a hand over her mouth, gripping her shoulder with the bear-like strength her jagged nails possessed when she was mad, the scoff of disgrace leaving her mouth as her team trailed behind the two of them.

“What the hell happened, baby Prentiss?” Morgan asked, ignoring the way Emily’s heated gaze turned on him, “What’s got you so worked up?”

“Don’t entertain her, Morgan,” Emily seethed, all but shoving her into the back of the SUV. She looked up at her sister with an open mouth, the guilt flashing in her eyes as she wavered under the pointing finger Emily jabbed in her face, “Don't you even dare,”

“But-” She stammered, cut off when she saw the glare intensified, if that had even been possible.

“I don’t want to hear another word from you for the rest of the day unless you’re prepared to give me a good explanation why I’ve dragged my team out here to save your sorry ass,” Emily hissed, and the girl’s mouth bobbed a few times, feeling the rest of the team watching as she got thoroughly chewed out.

“Wait-” Emily’s hand lingered at the car door, ready to slam it in her face as she rubbed her cuff over her chin, mopping up the damage. Her head tilted for a moment, hoping her sister had something good to say, only for it to be; “He just called you old, I hope you realise that,”

Emily’s gaze darkened, slamming the door shut with an anger she imagined her mother had kept warm for the past twenty three years, whirling around heatedly when she heard a snigger from one Derek Morgan.

“Damn, mama, hear the girl out.” He said, slapping a hand on the woman’s shoulder as he passed, heading back to their own SUV, “Maybe she’ll surprise you,”

If Emily was going to bite anything back, she didn’t. Instead she ran a hand over her brow, the group disbanding to their cars now the problem child had been picked up from daycare, except for Hotch who watched the older Prentiss with a scowl, despite the worry in his eyes.

“Hotch, I’m so sorry, just take it off my timecard, I’ll cover all the costs,” She said shakily, her own frown adorning her face as she felt herself blush from embarrassment under her boss’s gaze.

“I understand she’s your sister, but this was a gross misuse of agent time and resources, Prentiss,” He said, his gaze drifting to where Spencer sat next to the girl, pulling a packet of tissues and hand sanitizer out of his satchel while JJ rooted through her own purse for a plaster, “Don’t let it happen again,”

Emily nodded vehemently, flushed with anger, her palms sticky as she wiped them on her jeans.

“Absolutely sir. Believe me, this ever happens again, she’s on her own,” She replied, though they both knew she didn’t mean it. Emily would never.

He nodded stonily, deciding quickly that it was punishment enough that she felt so ashamed, he knew from his years of arguments with Sean what it was like to have a sibling stray so far.

“We can fill out reports in the morning, just get Reid and JJ home,” Hotch said, putting a tentative hand on her shoulder as he passed her to head towards his own vehicle, “And try not to kill each other in the company car. It doesn’t look good on paperwork,”

She beat off the smile on her lips as she got back into the driver's seat, the air that engulfed the four of them foul as she glared over her shoulder and into the back. Spencer twitched in his seat uncomfortably, his hand still passing over tissues to the bloodied girl.

“So, you gonna tell me what that was about?” Emily asked, her tone brittle and warning, not in the mood for any snarky response she could give, “Or is this old lady going to have to lay into you some more,”

The smell of strong ethanol engulfed her nose as she held the soaked tissue to her face, frowning into her lap silently and avoiding the burning stare as Emily stuck the keys in the ignition and started the car.

“Let’s start with why you were there,” JJ input, the same tone of voice she used as when talking to victims, calm and motherly, unlike the pissed off snarl Emily gave, “You wanna tell us why you were arrested?”

“You two really gonna pull the good cop, bad cop on me?” She snapped, her lip swelling around the wound, tongue grazing it softly despite the heavy taste of the sanitizer.

Emily said her name in a warning, her last warning, and she knew better than to push her luck even more, the SUV pulling out of the station and onto the road.

“I was just shopping for groceries,” She started, fiddling with the bloodied tissue, wincing under her tongue stroke, “Store clerk made a pass at me, I told him I wasn’t interested. So he put a pack of smokes in my handbag while I wasn’t looking; the alarms went off. I didn’t even know what was happening until security grabbed me at the door,”

JJ flashed a glance at Emily, like two parents deciding an appropriate punishment, the brunette’s lips straightening out into a line.

“You’re telling the truth?” She asked cautiously, glancing in the rear view mirror to see how her sister balled the mess of paper between her palms.

Rolling her eyes, she gladly accepted the other packet of tissues Spencer slid over the leather seat between them.

“I went out for milk and oranges, I was not looking to get picked up, Em,” She bit back, groaning when she felt it jostle the cut, “And certainly not for cigarettes, you know I only smoke on New Years,”

Spencer looked at her with a frown, and she caught his confusion quickly, pulling another leaf of paper from the packet.

“Emily and I had a rule after she caught me smoking when I was like fourteen, that we could have one cigarette between the two of us on New Years eve,” She explained, JJ also perking up to hear it, “So that by the time morning came around, it would be last year’s mistake, and it would be like it never happened,”

JJ smiled to herself, remembering the time she caught Roz sneaking one of her dad’s cigarettes on the back porch back when she was just ten. She remembered the little secrets the two of them kept back then, held them even all these years later.

“So how did that lead to, well,” JJ gestured to her lip, “That,”

“Yeah, didn’t I specifically tell you to not antagonise anyone?” Emily chimed in, signalling she was changing lanes as they headed down the freeway for a second time that day.

“Technically you said not to antagonise the officers,” She pointed out, before Spencer had the chance to, shutting his mouth as he caught the glare Emily shot through the mirror.

“Keep talking,” The older Prentiss ordered, as Bugsy sighed and blotted her lip some more.

“That woman, Mira I think her name was, anyway, she recognised me from that picture mom had us take on Independence Day, the one they put in The Hill, and she asked me if it was true my sister was a fed,”

Emily’s fingers twitched at the wheel, knowing the status agents and even people associated with agents held in prisons; knowing just being a Prentiss in a jail cell held a big, dazzling price over her head that said ‘kill me, kill me!”

The air sucked out of the car, a look passing between JJ and Reid as they thought the same thing, waiting for her to go on.

“So then you hit her?” Emily guessed, the bitterness slowly ebbing as she understood maybe her sister wasn’t as unruly as she thought.

“No, I told her to leave me the fuck alone, but she said you guys sent her brother down for something a while back, and she asked again if my family were all Pigs,” She picked her nails, the blood stain on her sleeve staring back at her, “I told her if she didn’t stop calling you a Pig, I’d make her squeal like one. And then I hit her,”

Emily tried to pretend she didn’t smile hearing that, her cheeks tightening, lips pulling down as she fended it off.

“Is that good enough, officers, or will you be needing fingerprints?” The girl chimed after a moment, a weight seemingly lifted from the car as Emily quickly realised she had, for once, not been entirely at fault.

“I want a handwritten apology to my boss for wasting his time,” Emily demanded, her unforgiving gaze softening when she saw her smile, “And you owe my team coffee,”

“I can do coffee, coffee coming right up,” She agreed, shoving the used tissues into her purse with a crooked smile, “It’s a date,”

Spencers ears turned red, looking over the seat at where she dabbed at her lip gently. She didn’t look much older for six months, but she had gotten her nose pierced since the last time he’d seen her, unless he just hadn’t noticed it before, and the streaks of red were slowly fading out into a blush pink that said it was old, and he wondered if she’d done it herself in that tiny little cubicle bathroom of hers she shared with the four other girls in her block.

“You finished your stats papers yet?” He made polite conversation, though part of him was dying to know out of curiosity if she could crunch numbers and equations as well as she could in her own labs.

“Got two more this week, they’re kicking my ass man,” She replied with a huff, and he didn’t think he’d ever been called ‘man’ by a woman before. He knew if he’d known her in college, ignoring the fact he would have been twelve, he would have thought she may just be the coolest person alive, “I miss my labs with my microscopes and watching all the little baby cells move around in the ethanol. Stats are like, just not sexy,”

He smiled at her as she stared out the window, unaware of the way she’d managed to make DNA sound like a play pen full of kittens. He held off from telling her he found stats really quite sexy, knowing it would never sound the same coming from his mouth.

He pulled a leaf of the tissues from the packet, producing his own pen from his pocket and began doodling carefully so as not to rip the delicate canvas.

Sliding it over to her after five minutes as Emily and JJ made conversation in the front seat, she didn’t care that the grin tugged on her split lip, the reaction was instant, she couldn’t stop it if she tried.

Two stick men stared back at her, her hair a close match in texture and a childish triangle drawn as means of a dress, a very tall stick figure next to her patting her metaphorical head, a speech bubble coming from his mouth.

“Maths is fun!” It said, and she flicked a glance at him, her smile the most genuine he’d seen yet. He just smiled back.

+2. The one where you graduate

Emily felt the looks on her the moment JJ had mentioned Maryland. The case was a little under their pay grade, nothing more than a stalker, no bodies or bloodshed, but one very rattled woman that had turned to the communications liaison with fear for her life.

With Hotch and Rossi in Boston helping a case of their own, the rest of the BAU had been twiddling their thumbs waiting for something to come across their desk.

“This case is in my hands now, and if we do nothing and something happens to her,” JJ took a heavy breath, her eyes lingering on the three names Keri had given her in case of her untimely death, “I’ll be the one notifying her family,”

Derek, despite his own hesitations about using their time for a case like this, caved the moment he saw the guilt on the blonde’s face.

“Okay,” He shuffled the papers into a pile, Emily and Spencer gathering their own resources on the case and standing from the round table.

Luckily, one government SUV was more than enough to carry the four of them for the hour drive North, all of them well aware Hotch would flip if they used more funds than necessary.

JJ piled into the front beside where Morgan climbed into the driver’s seat, leaving Emily next to a particularly fidgety Reid. It took all of fifteen minutes of the man flicking a glance at her, his mouth quirking as if he were about to use it, before he thought better and looked out the window, and the whole thing would start again.

Derek, the less shy about his thoughts of the two men, even glanced at her through the rear view mirror, before he too returned his gaze out the window silently. JJ shifted in her seat, knowing she had to tread carefully around mentioning Bugsy to Emily, particularly after the last time they’d seen her. Emily had said they’d grabbed coffee once or twice since then, but that was all she spoke about it, which left her team walking cracked eggshells at the thought of bringing her up.

It seemed the three of them were bursting at the seams with the same thought, and it wasn’t until Reid cleared his voice, his puppy eyes stuck in his loop, that she had had enough.

“Does anyone here have something to say?” Emily huffed, Derek immediately reaching to turn the radio up the same time that JJ flicked the AC on for something to do. Realising they weren’t easily broken, she turned to Spencer who already looked slightly guilty, thumbing at his sweater, “Reid?”

“Did you want to see your sister?” He asked without hesitation, as if the words had fallen out of him, “You know, since we’re so close on this case. It would be a good excuse to-”

“You did say she owed us a coffee,” JJ pointed out, spurred on by Spencer’s nerves, “Wouldn’t mind cashing in if we’re coming all this way.”

“Morgan, do you have anything to add?” Emily asked with raised brows, though she already knew what was coming.

Derek chewed over his thoughts a second, “I’m just saying, you only get to see your baby sisters grow up once- you know, and it couldn’t hurt to see her even if she runs rings around you with that smart mouth-”

“Shouldn’t we be focusing on the case?” Emily cut him off incredulously, but received three knowing looks back. She met JJ’s gaze where the woman had swivelled in her seat to talk to her, and Prentiss was fast to catch the buried grief in her best friend’s eyes. She knew it pained her to even bring up sisterhood, let alone watch Emily throw hers away for the sake of a decade and a half between them. It was the desperation in JJ’s face that did it, knowing she would give anything to spend just an hour with Roz one more time, that had her drawing her cell out her pocket and calling the contact with the little ladybug next to it, “Fine,”

As a profiler she would have been tempted to ignore the way Spencer smiled into his lap; as a sister, her eyes narrowed at him.

The phone rang surprisingly only once before she answered, and she heard an unnaturally tame version of her sister answer.

“Emily?” She asked, her voice hushed, worried almost, “You okay?”

Her brows furrowed, “Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?” She got no more than a hum in return, somewhat agreeing though Emily could tell clear as day she was holding something back. “Look, we’re gonna be in Silver Spring, I was thinking tomorrow we could grab lunch-”

“Can’t, I’m busy, it’s an all day thing,” Her sister cut her off, yet it wasn’t rude or demeaning like usual. Nervous almost, sad, “Sorry,”

“What’s an all day thing?” Emily asked, the concern matching her words.

Her sister swallowed on the other end of the phone, before she found her words, or maybe even the balls to actually speak, “I’m graduating tomorrow,”

Emily’s face lit up, the smile spreading fast on her face, ignoring the way Morgan’s words seemed to ring true in her ears; she was growing up too fast.

“Graduating, why didn’t you say!” She asked, the joy in her tone unmissable, “How’d your papers go?”

Spencer held himself off from correcting her that she’d only done five papers, that the rest of her results had come from theory and labs, thinking better than to interrupt the one conversation they’d had where there was no underlying argument brewing.

“Full honours, obviously.” Bugsy drawled with a snicker, and Emily shook her head, the smile never dimming.

“Look at you, y’little superstar,” Emily bit her lip, ignoring the guilt that tore at her when she realised she barely knew what Bug spent her days doing, “Did Mom and Dad get good seats? Oh god, dad’s not bringing Stephanie is he?”

The silence on the other end had her halting, the light in the conversation wavering for a second, before she understood the nerves, the quick defence her sister had been on the moment the call had been answered.

“Bug-”

“They’re not coming,” Her heart ached in her chest hearing it, “I sent Mom the details, she said she’s in Ukraine this week settling some papers. Didn’t even get a chance to ask Dad before he and Stephanie were off on their fifth honeymoon in the Bahamas until October,” A painful laugh echoed down the line, as if she were holding back the gravity of the situation.

“Bug,” Emily tried again, picking her thumb viciously, punishingly, hating herself for being so blind to her sister’s troubles, “Why didn’t you invite me?”

“I figured you’d be busy,” Came the reply, sad and tender, the most honest she’d heard in a while, “You’re always busy,”

“Never too busy for you,” Emily’s guilt tripled when her sister didn’t answer, knowing if she were to counter the statement with hard evidence it would only hurt both of them, “Look, I have some time today, probably,” She didn’t, not even a few minutes, “Why don’t we get that coffee, you don’t even have to pay,”

Bugsy gave a sad laugh, “Sorry, Em, I gotta get my dress fitted today, and some of the lab techs invited me to a party later. Maybe some other time,”

“A party with biology nerds?” Emily asked with false excitement, the air turned stagnant between them now, “Well, rock on, science freak. Don’t leave your drinks with strangers, and don’t walk home alone, and for god sake use protection-”

“Bye, Emily,” She said with a chuckle, the older of the two gracing her with the same, as they put the phone down.

The car was quiet, waiting for Prentiss to speak, none of them missing the way her lip pulled between her teeth, a bitterness on her face that told them she was holding in something close to sadness. You’re always busy. It echoed around her head, stabbing at her chest to think her sister was graduating alone, no one to congratulate her, no one to pat her on the back and tell her how clever she is despite the fact Bugsy would happily tell anyone just how smart she was on her own. Never too busy for you.

“She’s graduating tomorrow,” She said to the three people waiting for an update, Spencer’s brows shooting to his hairline. He hadn’t heard from her since her last paper got sent off, and why would he? They had exchanged a few little anecdotes and doodles, sent each other research papers to be graded like teachers exchanging lecture notes, “She didn’t even tell me. She’s gonna be alone,”

JJ grimaced, “What? What about your mom- or, or your dad, an uncle, someone-”

“Mom and dad are out of the country, Mom’s brother lives in Mexico with his seven kids, he can barely get a night’s sleep let alone a day off to travel up to Maryland. Dad’s sisters passed away when I was a kid,” Emily explained, running a hand over her face, “I can’t let her go up there alone,”

“So we don’t,” Spencer said, as if he’d never been more sure of anything in his life, “We don’t let her do it alone,”

“Graduating with Masters in Biotechnology; Jasper Adams, Tom Adamson, Kristen Afkins, Gavin Agriths-”

The dean read off the names of the students as she fiddled with the hem of her dress.

The dress fit beautifully, her make up done to near perfection, her hair styled neatly, she was graduating with full honours for christ sakes. Why couldn’t she just be happy with what she had? Why had she got to be so spoiled?

Lots of peoples parents missed their graduation, lots of people her age didn’t even have parents anymore, she ought to be grateful her mother was increasing famine aid in foreign countries, all the lives she would save, or even be happy her father had found a pretty, rich new wife to tour every known vacation destination with. Or even that her sister had called her just yesterday and told her in a few words she was proud of her.

But none of them quelled the feeling of loneliness that blossomed inside Bugsy. The kind that had always been there, the kind that just wanted someone in her corner, telling her she was doing pretty good for a kid who raised herself in all those big houses they’d moved to, who saw the au pair more often than her own mother.

All those rooms were so empty, the houses so quiet besides for her. It was like living in a cemetery.

“Robert Lewsinsky. Marcus Linford. Tara Lorence. Katie Macauley.”

P would be up soon. Each name of her classmates drew an applause, some whoops and screams, one family she swore there must have been ten of them in the back row cawing and howling like monkeys at a zoo, proud of their son for making it.

She willed a smile on her face, hearing Orla Parkins get called up, and she knew just by the steward that directed her where to stand in line she was close.

“Kenneth Patterson. Joshua Perriman. Harriet Pimms. Lauren Pintons.”

She held a rattled breath as Renly Prackett walked ahead of her, strolling over the stage to collect his degree, flashing the crowd a wide smile and a fist pump. She had always liked Renly, having been his experiment partner for a year, despite the fact he never washed up after himself in the lab.

Then it was, her name was called. The one no one but her mother and Stephanie ever called her, she solely went by Bugsy courtesy of Emily. It was a family name, a nice one at that. Maybe it had been the fact she had been eight and her cool big sister crowned her the new name, or maybe it just rolled off the tongue better, made her feel less like a Prentiss, that she chose to go by her monika.

She tried not to think about where or what Emily was doing, only hoping she was safe, as she began walking over the stage, her heels clicking loudly with her hesitant steps.

To her utmost surprise she heard a loud whistle echo through the auditorium, a group of jeers and screams of her name, even an air horn signing off that had her almost tripping over her own feet turning to see who it was.

Surely it was a joke, a cruel prank, she barely had any friends in her class. Acquaintances sure, but no one so bold as to make such a fuss over her.

Squinting down at the audience, her cap nearly slipping off her head as her head turned to the source, she felt her chest burst when she saw the dark hair and bangs, her sisters butchered fingertips in her mouth with a loud cattle whistle, screaming like a firework right to the stage where she graciously accepted her award, despite the fact she barely paid any attention to the dean anymore, more to her sister who smiled at her widely as she clapped. Behind her, her team she’d met on the off chance, the pretty blonde, JJ, who pressed the air horn a few more times, cheering just as loud for her. Morgan, the handsome one who had stood himself on top of his chair, cupping a hand over his mouth to scream “Kicking ass, baby Prentiss!” at her, ignoring the way other people stared wide eyed at them.

And Spencer, tall enough to be seen over the crowd even without the help of a chair, who smiled at her, clapping those big hands of his loud enough to reach her, his own whoops never ceasing even as she stepped off the stage to head back to her seat.

The rest of the ceremony dragged, a speech from one of the alumni and the exit music playing, but she simply grinned into her hand, where her degree smiled back at her, counting down the moments she would be allowed to stand.

And then she was fast walking down the stairs, amongst the bustle of students, the black gowns flurrying around her as she burst out into the square where parents, fiancees, brothers, sisters, cheered their loved ones, pulling them into tight hugs.

Her eyes scanned the wave of black hats, landing on two dark eyes, the thick sable hair framing the dazzling smile that awaited her with open palms. All but shoving her way through the crowd, she stopped in front of her sister, the urge to jump at her with a hug shying the moment she got close.

“Told you. Never too busy for you, Bug,” Emily said, pulling her in by her shoulders for a tight hug. She knew her sister wasn’t one to beg for affection, wasn’t one to let her guard drop so soon, but she also knew she’d needed it by the way she melted against her, the way she chuckled into her hair, pulled her closer.

“Do I owe your boss another letter of apology for this or do I get you guys for free?” The girl asked, as her sister pulled away, keeping an arm around her shoulder as they turned to the rest of the team.

“No, this one is entirely on us, promise,” JJ said with a smile as she saw Emily beaming maternally over at the girl, the flat of the cap knocking against her cheek as she squeezed her in once more, “We’re very proud of you,”

She heated under the woman’s words, wriggling in her shoes as bad as Emily did when she felt awkward, Derek chuckling and taking the degree out of her hand.

“Alright, lets see the creds, Prentiss,” He held it up next to her face as she shrugged, the ‘4.0’ clear as day next to her name, “Good looking, and smart. Those boys in the lab ought to watch out,”

She grinned under his teasing, “What can I say, I got the deep end of the gene pool,” She teased, feeling Emily swat her ear, her eyes falling to where Spencer held a plant pot with a poorly wrapped bow of twine around it, the soil a little displaced from the journey.

“This is for you,” He said, handing her the small green sproutling, his cheeks blushing as her face lit up, reading the small inscription on the front, “It’s-”

“Dionaea muscipula,” She said, biting her lip as she smiled at him, “This is so cool! Where on earth did- I had a paper last semester on the ways to study their electrophysiology you just have to read- oh thank you!”

“English, please?” Emily asked, though the warmth flooded her chest when her sister threw her arms around a very rigid Spencer.

Thinking she should grab her and warn her the man disliked touch almost as much as she does, she was surprised to see him give her a small embrace back, smiling proudly the way he did when he’d made someone happy.

“Piège à mouches Vénus,” Her sister responded cockily, tugging herself away from the tall man, to inspect her new plant, well aware that Emily rolled her eyes at her use of French, “Venus Fly Trap. I’ve never seen one so young, still I should be able to pull some slides on the Rhizomes in the soil-”

Emily put a hand to her temple, JJ smiling widely as she saw for once Spencer be the one on the receiving end of an earful, chuckling to himself when she began dishing out name ideas for the sapling.

“Holy shit, there’s two of them,” Morgan grumbled, nudging his shoulder into Emily who simply sighed, her migraine already starting as Reid began jumping in with his own thoughts, which didn’t take much effort.

“Don’t even,”

+3. The one where you’re taken hostage

“Tell us about the 911 call,” Spencer requests, flicking through the file himself beside her in the back seat. She had her own set of paperwork in front of her, her pen attached to a clipboard the lanyard around her neck reading her real, honest credentials, unlike the fake ones Emily and Reid were given. She’d been to one of these sects before, invited kindly as part of her research on the effect isolation has on cultivation of crops, knew one of the mother’s well from her last research paper, and had managed to get the group a foot in the door to entering the Separtarian Sect with little fuss.

Hotch, usually hesitant to allow outsiders in on the job, especially as young and spirited as Bugsy, had to admit it would calm any potential unsubs and make them see the team as unthreatening if they had a friendly face there. He’d signed the papers with a frown that morning, and they were on their way to the little apartment the girl occupied just outside Baltimore, sample tubes stuffed into her pack ready.

“I believe the he that they refer to is the church’s leader, Benjamin Cyrus,” Nancy, a woman from child protective services, replied from the driver's seat, Emily thumbing through her papers as they neared the compound.

“Benjamin Cyrus, no criminal record; no record of him at all actually,” Reid replied, watching Bugsy scribbling notes into her lab book, perfecting her report before she had even begun, “What else do you know about him?”

“The sect I spoke to before, the one in Utah, said he was rumoured to be practising polygamy and forced marriages,” The younger woman said, looking back at him with a frown, “They were much more modern in their beliefs than these guys. Last time I spoke to Marina she was happy there, I can’t see why she would want to move here,”

Spencer looked as if he were about to answer, perhaps to tell her he was sure her contact would be just fine, when Emily shrugged and turned to Nancy.

“Do we know who the caller is?” She asked, sipping her now lukewarm coffee out of the disposable cup.

Nancy’s head tilted in a so-so motion, “Uh, Jessica Evansen is the one who the age fits, but we can’t be sure.”

“Well given their view on outsiders, it would be best if you didn’t identify us as FBI.” Emily instructed, handing Reid his new, fake credentials and his gun she’d kept in her bag through customs. “Just use our real names and introduce us as child victim interview experts.” Nancy nodded, the compound coming into view, the dust flurrying under the car wheels as the road turned into nothing more than a sandy path.

A guard seemed to be expecting their arrival as he stood, unarmed at the main gate, unlatching the bolt in the middle and opening it wide for their vehicle to pass through. She nodded in thanks, her eyes flicking out the dirty window to see a collection of mobile homes surrounding a large church, a few smaller outbuildings dotted around the compound. It was quiet, not full of laughter like the last group she had been to, the children nowhere to be seen, only a few of the handier members of the flock that were either fixing up walls, trimming trees besides a man sprawled too casually on the steps of the chapel, a bible in his hands he seemed to be catching up on.

The car pulled to a stop in front of the man that barely batted an eye at their arrival, the safety locks flicking off each of the doors, Nancy collecting her briefcase and exiting the car first.

She had all but reached for the handle when Emily stopped her, swivelling in her seat to look her dead in the eye.

“Your job is mediator, you got that?” Her sister had never looked more serious, but then again she did know her almost too well, “You and your field research are a… buffer between our investigation and the unsub. Just try to take the focus off what we’re doing, but do not provoke anyone,”

She raised her hands in innocence, “Got it, jeez, what could I possibly do that could ruin this investigation?”

Emily stared back at her blankly, unnamused, as if they both knew there was a lot she could, and would, do that would blow the whole thing.

“You look like mom when you give me that look,” She bit back, leaving the car, as Nancy spoke to the man laying on the steps, “It’s terrible,”

“I’m looking for Mr Benjamin Cyrus?” Nancy reported, her tight, knee length skirt and blouse entirely out of place amongst the dirt track.

“You found him,” The man replied, still not so much as granting them a glance of interest as he flicked through his passages.

“I’m Nancy Lunde, we spoke on the phone regarding the allegation,” She replied, which was the only thing that garnered his attention as he looked up at them behind slightly bent reading glasses.

“Savages they call us; because our manners differ from theirs,” He said, though it was clear it wasn’t entirely his own words, more likely a segment of his preach he’d repeated a handful of times. Bugsy tried to hide her disgust behind her hand tightening around her lab books she kept tightly to her chest.

“We didn’t come here to hear you cite scripture, Mr Cyrus,” Nancy snipped as he approached the group, pocketing the glasses though he kept hold of the bible in hand as if it was part of his own arm.

“Actually it’s Benjamin Franklin,” Spencer murmured to the woman, which had Cyrus’ cold brown eyes narrowing at the tall man, assessing for a motive.

“Emily Prentiss, Spencer Reid. They’re child victim interview experts,” Nancy introduced them quickly, the two of them flashing their badges, the unofficial ones at least. Gesturing to the youngest woman, she introduced her with her real name, his gaze flicking to her as he seemed to recognise it.

“Marina’s friend? The plant lady?” He asked, face half amused as she fought her lip from twitching into a sneer. Instead she smiled, holding out her hand.

“That’s what they call me,” She said, shaking his hand, ignoring the way he flashed her a cheshire cat smile, “Hope you don’t mind me dropping by, Marina said I could take some samples for my research,”

He laughed, shaking his head, looking at Spencer, “Women and their flowers, right?” Spencer swallowed back a retort, shrugging his shoulders, though Bugsy’s eye twitched. Benjamin patted her on her shoulder, “Of course you can honey, I’ll find Jared, our head gardner, and you can run along for your research,”

He said it as if she were lying, that her degree and endless hours of work would only ever chalk up to a few doodles in a notebook, or a garden full of hydrangeas, or tulips, or roses, because she couldn’t possibly care about anything else but pretty flowers.

Nodding her head graciously, choking back the hateful response she wished to spit in his face, she gave him a polite thankyou, feeling Spencer’s eyes burning into the side of her head.

“The children are in the school as I indicated,” Cyrus said, turning back to the other three, Emily and Nancy taking off in the direction he pointed, the former knowing her sister was at risk of blowing a fuse if they were here for long.

Spencer hung back, partially because he had a plan of distraction in mind to allow the women a chance to speak with the children whilst Cyrus wasn’t around, partially because he didn’t want to leave Bugsy anywhere on her own. Sure, Emily had said they were both trained in self defence when they were kids, but with no weapon of her own, he was reluctant.

“You're using solar power?” He prompted, gesturing towards where the eight blue panels warmed under the Colorado sun.

“We’re completely self-sufficient,” Benjamin nodded along, catching the impressed look on both their faces, “Electricity, food, water. Ben Franklin said ‘God helps those that help themselves,’ you look surprised,”

“No, impressed actually,” Spencer replied, and he wasn’t entirely lying. The system was incredibly complex, particularly if they received no help from outsiders, for as many people as there were in the compound.

“Thankyou; for admitting that,” Cyrus said earnestly, flicking his gaze back to Bugsy who studied the solar panels, “I’ll go find Jared, he can take you to the greenhouses,”

Thanking him again, he led the way towards the school where Nancy and Emily had headed, as the two of them exchanged a look, Spencer smiling half piteously, wishing he could shake her and tell her just how smart she was and that Cyrus knew absolutely nothing.

He didn’t miss the way she walked closer to him, or how she thumbed the corner of her notebook, or how she looked back at him, biting the inside of her cheek. He thinks he might get slapped if he pointed it out, but Emily had the exact same tell when she was nervous, which is why he bumps their shoulders together in means of reassuring her he was still there.

It was only then she gave him any sort of smile back.

Jared, as expected, had been just as condescending and patronising as Benjamin whilst she slipped on her latex gloves, scooping no more than a handful of homemade fertiliser into one of her test tubes. It had been a partial cover, their story, but she had been telling the truth when she’d contacted Marina and asked if she could drop by. She’d been meaning to expand her field research in hopes of stumbling on a job opportunity since she spent most of her postgraduate days reading while her cat pawed at her leg for more treats than he deserved, the odd phone call with her sister much more common than it had been before.

She didn’t miss the way Jared’s hand fell into the small of her back as he led her back towards the school, after having noted down a few more readings, fussing over the state of the carrots that seemed to grow entirely naturally thanks to the systems they’d been smart enough to set up. He seemed rather bored by the whole thing, for a head gardener, more interested in staring at her legs as she leaned down to identify the fat black beetle that crawled along the rockery.

It wasn’t until they were halfway to the school that the sound of tyres on a dirt path met her ears, and she saw five armoured SUVs out the corner of her eye.

She hadn’t even the time to question what was going on, before Jared’s face dropped, the hand gently holding the soft of her back grabbing on her forearm hard enough to leave bruises, as he was dragging her to the chapel they had seen when they had pulled up.

Emily had said the rest of the team stayed in Quantico, if it wasn’t them, who was it.

“Whats going on- who is that?” She asked him lamely, her feet stumbling as she half fought his heavy hand off.

That was when the shooting started.

She thinks it came from the compound first, she’d seen two men stationed on top of one of the outbuildings, thinking nothing much of it, until she saw clearly now the assault rifles they bore, pointing it straight at the vehicles that drew closer. The whistle of bullets, bangs of the chambers emptying their artillery, and it wasn’t until she heard the doors to the SUVs start opening, more gunfire began hitting the wall ahead of them that she started running. Running fast, for the cover the church provided until she figured out just what the fuck was happening.

Jared all but threw her past the chapel door, where Cyrus and four other men were waiting, a heavy barricade in their hands, her chest pounding with adrenaline, she couldn’t help the yelp that left her as Cyrus whirled on her, grabbing her shoulders firmly and looking her dead in the eye.

“Did you know anything about this?” He asked, his calm demeanour cracking when she scrambled for a response, “ANSWER ME,”

“No-no not at all.” She shook her head, voice weaker than she’d like, but the sight of more guns in the men’s hands twisted any resolve she had, “Where are the others- the- the experts-”

“Take her into the tunnels,” Cyrus ignored her question, nodding at one of his men to grab her as Jared armed himself. She felt another callused hand yank on her upper arm, and part of her wondered if that was how men handled all women here, as if they were herding cattle, as she was dragged down into the catacombs below the church.

They’d made plans for a day like this to come, she realised.

Her heart constricted at the sound of bullets rattling above them, she hadn't been able to tell in that last moment whether Cyrus believed her or not as, nor whether she was being taken to the tunnels for her own safety or to be questioned harder about the gunmen.

She could only hope Emily was safe.

She felt her tongue too big for her mouth as the man all but shoved her into the bunker, the nervous chatter of women and children, some of the more elderly men, as they clung to one another for safety, the scathing remark she would have usually made about his heavy hands failing her as she scanned the room for her sister.

Emily was faster however, and she nearly yelped again as two bony arms yanked her into a hug, a rare one, and she knew by the blazer and the sigh of relief in her ear it was Em.

Usually she would bat her off, tell her to stop fussing like a mother hen, but today she embraced her right back, trying to note if her sister had any bullet holes in her before she allowed herself the same relief.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Emily asked, the whole thing coming out in a slew of worry, and she nodded, pulling away as if she needed to see the proof in person.

Bugsy’s eyes were wild, as if she were a doe in a meadow hearing a rifle cocking near. No scratch that, she was a doe being chased and shot at and hunted, narrowly escaping being mounted on a wall.

“They were all shit shots,” Bugsy said, through a laugh she didn’t quite mean, “You would have done much better.”

Patting her sister on the shoulder, Emily finally released her when she realised the humour meant she at least had her head on her shoulders. Spencer watched her with meticulous eyes, knowing the shock that registered on her face, knowing it was the same one he wore when he first had shots fired at him. He saw her own eyes quickly check him over, satisfied with a breath of relief when she saw they were both fine.

“Where’s Lunde?” Emily asked, and she realised then Cyrus had followed her down into the shelter, two of his men grabbing handfuls of guns she had never seen before, likely imported out of country, and returning to the ground level, preparing for more shooting.

“It wasn’t us,” Cyrus replied, as if that negated the fact their recklessness had gotten the agent killed.

“What? You can’t shoot it out with the cops, you have children in here,” Emily seethed, her voice harsh and incredulous.

“I didn’t start this,” Cyrus bit back, looking towards his men as they grabbed boxes on boxes of ammunition, “I’ll take the front, you take the roof,”

And with that they stormed their way back through the tunnels, leaving the three of them to look between each other, knowing this could only end badly. Knowing the only people that could figure out how to get them out of this mess was the BAU, all 1,700 miles away.

–

They’d been in the bunker for fourteen hours when there was finally movement. The shooting seemed to have quietened down, in which Spencer whispered it was around 11pm and it was likely neither party had a clear shot. She’d managed to fall asleep leaning against the wall, Emily’s blazer draped over her legs. She’d regretted wearing cropped pants, despite how the shade of green complimented her eyes nicely, and she’d been shivering by the time she fell asleep, Emily’s hands stroking her hair gently as if she knew she was struggling to relax.

She hadn’t realised she was staring at her little sister, frowning even as she slept, which made part of her want to laugh, until she caught Spencer’s tired eyes looking between them, something knowing and warm in his gaze.

“You know, she’s always scowled in her sleep, ever since she was born,” Emily said, quiet enough it didn’t interrupt the hum of small snores, the odd baby cry that filled the bunker, but loud enough for him to smile at her, “She used to sleep walk terrible too. I’d find her in the kitchen trying to make pancakes with a cheese grater. It’s like that big brain of hers doesn’t know how to shut off,” Emily shook her head with a fatigue, rubbing her eyes.

“Was it weird? Being fourteen years older?” Spencer asked, his own hands shoved into his sleeves to try defend from the draught. Emily thought for a moment, her hand slowing for a second on her sister's hair, before she answered.

“I felt guilty leaving her in that house with my mom when I went to college,” Emily answered, Bugsy unconsciously tucking her face closer into the jacket, “I think part of her kind of hated me for it for a while.” She went quiet, the shame in her voice thick as the silence that encompassed them, “She’s never been very affectionate you know? Before her graduation I don’t think I’d hugged her in twelve years,”

Spencer held himself back from pointing out that she had been just as touchy with him since they’d met, and that maybe it was Emily’s own regret that seemed to shut the both of them down. He wasn’t one to rub salt in the wound, not since he’d gotten this job and learned to watch what he said.

He didn’t know what to say, didn’t want to give her advice, knowing the whole subject of their slowly repairing relationship was a sore one. He had no siblings of his own, had a mother who loved him despite how much she grappled with her own mind, and he had only known the girl briefly enough to consider her a friend at a push.

“I always thought the two of you were similar,” Emily chose to continue, offering him a small smile. He returned it, his face blushing at the fact that was a huge compliment to him, “Granted, you roll your eyes at me less and don’t act like I’m dumb, but you remind me of her,”

“Thankyou, I wish that were true,” He replied, eyes flicking to her sleeping form, the way her eyebrows were indeed scrunched in a permanent frown. He wondered if she was actually angry, or if she was just thinking hard, perhaps her dreams were full of equations or labs she needed to sort through. Either way, he wanted to know. “She’s much cooler than I’ll ever be,”

Emily snorted, shuffling against the wall to cosy herself, “That’s one way to put it,” She said, smiling over at him as he did the same, his head resting against the wall, Bugsy’s legs stretching out to knock against his feet, and he didn’t mind that she scuffed the bottom of his already dirty trousers. “Get some sleep,”

And so they did.

–

Cyrus had corralled the whole flock into the church, where the shooting had stopped and the bodies had been removed, stating at the break of dawn that there was a hostage negotiator coming in to make sure everyone was safe before they made any deals.

She sat next to Spencer, the three of them stiff from their sleeping arrangements, and her stomach churned with hunger. It had been over 24 hours since they’d gotten here, and besides the small bit of bread and water Cyrus gave everyone for breakfast, she was starving.

“Remind me to never leave the house, ever again,” She grumbled, as everyone waited in the pews for the negotiator to arrive, “My cat is gonna be pissed I’ve not fed him,”

“Since when did you get a cat?” Emily inputted from the other side of Reid, keeping one eye on the door in case any agents start shooting again.

The girl shrugged, “I got lonely, there’s not much to do now I’m not studying anymore,”

Reid watched how she clutched her stomach, feeling his own complaining at the lack of nutrition, “Morgan wasn’t lying when he said you should sign up for the academy. We could always use the help, we wouldn’t have solved that case in Baltimore without you,”

She snickered, nudging his foot with her boot, “You’re being modest, you would have done it just fine,”

He was a little, wasn’t surprised she called his bluff either. “Okay, so probably yes- but it would have taken us a whole lot longer. Mr Chernus likely would have died,”

She shook her head, glancing at Emily who watched her carefully, “That was all you guys. I just translated.”

Emily and Spencer exchanged a glance, leaning back in their uncomfortable seats calmly.

“You’re probably right,” Spencer said, dusting the dirt off his trousers, “Probably couldn’t handle it, high intensity mind games and such,”

She blanched, looking at him as if he’d grown a second head, not knowing him to be so brutally honest, realistic yes, but not bordering on rude.

“And it’s a lot of work,” Emily jumped in, her mouth a straight line, “I don’t know if you’d be dedicated enough,”

Bugsy scoffed, indifferently. “I have a masters degree, I was offered a scholarship to do a PHD, asked to be an assistant professor at Yale, I can work hard, Emily,” She snipped, and perhaps she was particularly just hangry or they had struck a nerve with their doubt, “and I could do it if I wanted to, I’d have the best shot they’d ever seen, guaranteed- mom made me take lessons when you left- trust me I could do it-”

She shut up when she saw their small smile exchanged, as if she’d told them a joke, or moreso they’d had the same identical thought and that alone was hilarious.

Scowling at them, she looked from where Spencer looked almost, almost, guilty at making her the butt of the joke, to where Emily had a ‘told you so’ smirk, and she kissed her teeth at their childishness.

“Are you guys reverse psychology-ing me? Seriously, so original guys,” She snapped, crossing her arms and straightening herself in her seat, ignoring the snigger that passed between them.

“You’re not wrong though,” Emily replied quietly as Cyrus walked past them, his eyes falling to them with a frown. Bugsy kept her head down, heeding Emily’s warning of not provoking anyone, and Spencer eyed the way she leaned closer to him.

If she was going to retaliate, whether agreeing or not, she stopped herself, the doors the church opening and an older gentleman walking through the doors, arms full of supplies she’d figured must have been part of the negotiation. He was patted down by an armed guard, searching for his own weapons do doubt, or a wire perhaps, as he handed the box over to another who took it without a thankyou.

“Rossi,” She heard Reid whisper beside her, and from the look he shot Emily and Spencer she gathered he was from the BAU, just as they’d expected. His eyes fell on her, softening as alot of Emily’s team did when they saw the two of them, as if they were picking her face apart for the tiny ways in which she resembled their Prentiss, or maybe it was the way she curled up in her seat, tired, hungry, on the defence. He just looked sorry for her.

“The children,” Cyrus said with no greeting, the air between them particularly frosty. He gestured towards the three of them, though Rossi had already clocked their tired faces staring at him with worry, “And our guests,”

She saw him trying not to react, guessing they had not let it slip to Cyrus he worked with the two undercover FBI agents, looking away from them as if the sight of their forlorn figures was enough to turn him sick.

Judging by the way Cyrus and he spoke quietly, tensely, Bugsy just hoped they had a plan to get them out of here soon as he soon left with a rigid handshake to the man keeping them hostage.

–

The three of them had been moved to a backroom a few hours later. Her stomach ached, the little sustenance Rossi had brought being distributed to the community before they’d been offered anything, which hadn’t left much. Reid and Emily had tried to get her to take some of their sharing, and despite how her insides cried out for it, she declined, stating they would be more use than she would; that they needed their strength more than her if they were going to get out of here alive.

The two of them hadn’t liked that answer judging by the frowns on their faces, but they sat in their seats with little fuss as they waited for things to quieten down after Cyrus’ staged “mass suicide” that had turned out to be nothign more than a test of loyalty and grape juice.

They had been sat in silence, aside from her foot bouncing on the floor impatiently, as she picked at the threads on her pants, the material uncomfortable on her skin after a day of wearing it. The door slammed open, Cyrus entering the room with nasty scowl. She didn’t know what had changed in the man in a matter of hours as he stormed over to them, two of his men behind him, loaded rifles in their arms.

This was not good.

“Which one of you is it?” He asked almost too calm for his demeanour, his eyes flicking between the three of them, where Emily attempted to brush her hair using her fingers, Reid played with the hem of his cardigan, an she sat beside him, resting against the cold stone wall behind them, her eyes narrowing at his furious expression.

The three of them remained silent, waiting for him to explain more, though clearly it was not the answer he was looking for as he threw his jacket open, revealing a loaded pistol tucked into his jeans. Drawing it into his dominant hand, her body tensed up, her back straightening like a rod as she looked up at him through fear.

“Which one of you is the FBI agent?” He repeated in that same calm tone, and her heart fell through her stomach.

She opened her mouth to say something in retaliation, though the way she saw his hand shaking with fury, she knew it was better to stay quiet in case her voice would be the final straw that made him trigger happy.

“Why do you think one of us is an FBI agent?” Spencer replied softly, and if he was panicking even a fraction amount she was he held it back, though his eyes flicked to Emily.

But it was a tell. The smallest movement alone was a tell he was lying, or perhaps it was the fact he’d answered a question with one of his own, distracting from the attention on them with the unsubs own answers. Maybe his quiet and calm showed how trained he was for a situation like this, showed he had gone up against bad guys before and won.

Whatever it was about him, it had Cyrus cocking the barrel of the gun straight at Spencer’s temple.

“God forgive me for what I must do,” The preacher murmured, his finger moments away from the trigger, when she lurched forward in her seat, hand shooting out to grab his wrist deathly tight.

“It’s me,”

She hadn’t realised she’d said it until the room went quiet. She thought for a moment it had come from Emily, Emily had always been the braver of the two of them, but it wasn’t until Cyrus’ unforgiving, dark gaze fell to her where she froze in her spot, that she understood her mouth had been the one moving.

Emily looked as if she was about to vomit, Spencer looked dumbfounded, but all she could do was stare back at Cyrus as if to will herself not to back down, knowing all three of them could fall victim if she gave them reason to doubt her; he could kill all three of them just to be sure the mystery agent was dealt with.

“It’s me,” She repeated, voice stronger this time, and she felt her chest relax just the tiniest amount as he turned the gun away from Spencer’s head.

He stared back at her for a moment, before the weapon smacked across her face in a sharp whip, her cheekbone crying out in a sting she knew was going to bruise.

He grabbed her hair at the nape of her neck, yanking her into a stand hard enough she yelped, despite not wanting to give him the satisfaction of the torture.

“Watch the other two,” Cyrus barked, dragging her out of the room as she squirmed under his hand, feeling it only tighten into an unforgiving pull.

She barely caught Emily bolting out of her seat to yell at the other men, all but fighting in their heavy grasp to follow wherever it was he was taking her, only for the door to be slammed shut behind them.

It was only then she realised how fucked she truly was.

–

She struggled to breath through the blood clotting in her nose. She didn’t think it was broken, not that she could check where her hands had been tied to the bedpost, tape over her mouth to stop her calling for help, her feet bound. She’d done nothing but give him hell as he’d been laying into her, keeping her cries and groans of pain silent as he’d kicked her in the ribs hard enough to know he’d damaged something at least.

She’d not made it easy for him to tie her down, worried about what they were planning next, she’d managed to headbutt him in the mouth, and the way he clutched at his jaw when he’d left gave her a sick satisfaction, though her temple now hurt more than she’d like to admit. But they’d only covered her mouth after she’d screamed obscenities at them for an hour or so, hoping to attract attention, hoping if the BAU were on their way, Emily and Reid would be able to find her fast before they could dispose of her.

Bugsy didn’t want to go like this. Tied up like cattle, gagged and beaten, the spirit kicked out of her as the dehydration gnawed at her limbs, making her too weak to even try wriggling out of the binds.

She felt herself dropping off to sleep, or maybe it was a concussion, he’d slammed her face into that mirror quite viciously, she wouldn’t be surprised if it had rattled her head around. Fighting with her eyelids to stay open, she jumped in her battered skin as the door unlatched, and she thrashed on the rickety bed to get away from the impending second beating.

But it wasn’t Cyrus. A fawn haired woman entered, her eyes falling on the girl on the bed, where blood trickled down her cheek, pouring from her nose like a thick liquor. Frowning, she was on high alert as the woman approached, a small, damp cloth in her hand.

“Relax, I’m not going to hurt you honey,” She hushed, approaching the young girl. Bugsy didn’t believe her for one second, her head pulling away from her as far as it could, her eyes wild and distrustful as the woman kneeled down beside the bed. “I’m Kathy,”

Bugsy debated jabbing an elbow in her face then and there, telling her in few words to stay as far away from her as possible, that the moment she was free she didn’t care who she hurt; she was getting out of here even if she had to crawl.

“That woman’s your sister right?” The blonde said, and the words stopped her heart for a moment, giving the woman the chance to run the cloth over the dribble of blood, “Emily,”

“Where is she?” She tried to ask, but the gag made it little more than a muffled cry, the woman’s eyes turning down in sadness. Pity. Bugsy hated every second of it.

“She’s okay, she’s worried about you though,” Kathy said, wiping under her nose, making her wince at the feeling, “Put up a hell of a fight after they took you away,”

She must have rolled her eyes, or perhaps it was just telling on her face that that didn’t surprise her as the older woman wiped over the superficial cut on her forehead she hadn’t realised was deep until the cloth went over it and she yawped like a dog having it’s tail pulled.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Kathy cooed, and she seemed genuinely guilty as she did. She tutted, shaking her head, fighting the urge to smooth the girls hair down the way she did when her own daughter was upset, “Emily said they’ll be coming for us at 3am, Cyrus has a mass suicide planned but they think they can stop him, you just have to hold on a little longer honey,”

“I want to see her,” Bugsy tried to talk again despite her mouth being covered, only for it to come out unintelligible once more. Huffing, she resigned herself to glaring at the ceiling, biting back frustrated tears. Kathy seemed to want to say something else, but thought better of it as the twenty something year old turned away from her to stare out the window, as if she were being dismissed.

Sighing, she rose from the bed and headed for the door, praying the FBI would get them out in time, before Cyrus put his plan into action.

–

Bugsy didn’t start panicking until it hit 2:50. She’d managed to kick the small analogue clock on the beside into working, the red numbers seeming to take a millenia to change over.

Yet it wasn’t until 3am neared, and the hallways remained silent, did she start to wonder if Kathy had been telling the truth at all. What if they had found out Emily and Reid were FBI and not her? What if they’d already been caught?

She really had wanted to see Emily, wanted to scream at the woman, who had meant well, to bring her sister to her or she would make every damn bible basher in this compound regret the day they were born. She felt helpless. She despised feeling helpless.

It was only when she heard shots rattling from outside did the cold fear set in. 2:52. Any minute now.

It was then an even worse thought struck her. What if they didn’t bother to come for her? Reid and Emily were safe downstairs, at least that was how Kathy had made it seem. If they got the women and children, the agents out first, she wondered if they would leave her for last since she wasn’t their top priority.

2:53 stared back at her.

At least Emily would make it. She was more important, had more going for her. She was supposed to be an only child anyway, mom had said it herself. Bugsy was the product of a failing marriage and a shared bottle of 1896 Bourbon that had been a wedding gift they’d never opened.

2:54.

She could have sworn she tore something the way her head snapped to the door as it swung open on its hinges, as if two large men had thrown their weight into it. But it wasn’t two men at all, just one frantic Derek Morgan with an FBI grade assault rifle.

The relief in his eyes was immediate, and he pulled a pocket knife from his boot, rushing over to where she lay, almost in shock, wondering if he was real at all, her heart pounding as she heard shouting in the corridor.

“I’m gonna get you out, kid,” The man promised, slinging his gun over his shoulder as he sliced through the rope on her ankles, her eyes trained on the 2:55 that watched them as if to laugh at them.

She whimpered, cursing behind her gag when she heard footsteps pounding through the hallway, and she was sure they were going to get caught. She thought then it would have been better if they’d forgotten about her, that at least Derek would have been safe, and he could have made sure the children got out safely, could have gotten Spencer and Emily medical.

Derek whirled on the doorway the same as she did as a tall figure all but skidded around the corner, his legs weak as hers felt, too long and not at all built for running. Clumsy almost.

Spencer. She should have known from the way he looked white as a sheet the moment he saw her it was him, but maybe she really did have concussion, as it seemed within moments he was fussing over her face, tearing a little too sharply at the tape over her mouth.

She thinks she groaned, or maybe cursed him out, as he started apologising immediately, his eyes a puppy kind of sad as she stared up at him, Derek handing him the knife to cut her arms free.

He was talking, but she couldn’t make a lot of it out, just that he was really sorry, it was 2:56 now. It was like her brain switched itself back on when she realised she was free, and the two of them were trying to haul her to her feet.

“Come on, princess, we gotta get out of here,” Derek said, as Spencer looped an arm around her waist, helping her limp across the room where her weak limbs did little to hold her upright, her ribs throbbing with every step, “We managed to stop Cyrus from detonating it manually, but the circuits are all still live,”

Morgan took the lead with the rifle, knowing some of Cyrus’ men had stayed to look for them, that they would go down with the building even though he’d already shot their leader the moment they’d breached the front door, because that was how loyal they were. They’d proven so already with the wine.

She kept her groans behind tight lips as they made it down the stairs, knowing Spencer didn’t mean to hold her bruised bones so tight, that he was just worried and her legs were doing the bare minimum to keep them both moving very fast. It wasn’t until they made it within a few feet of the door that they seemed to pick up the pace.

And she saw why.

Jesse, Cyrus’ child bride that had been the reason they’d come here in the first place was holding the detonator, her face tear streaked at the sight of her husband and prophet dead on the floor, the people responsible all but dragging a lame girl through the foyer and to the doors as if they hadn’t killed a handful of her flock tonight.

Bugsy saw the moment Jesse decided she wanted vengeance on them, but then, she guessed Spencer had already acted as he slung one of her arms over his shoulder, yanking her out the front door in a matter of seconds as Morgan pulled up the rear, and the two men shoved her down behind the small wall outside the church steps.

Bugsy expected the bang to be louder as the rubble flew over their heads, the floor shaking with the impact of the bomb detonating, and it was then she realised one of Derek’s large warm hands held her head into his shoulder, protecting her already rattled skull as best as he could. Spencer had done the same, throwing half his body over her back as he covered his ears, the two men tucking into the wall tightly and waiting for the dust to settle.

Spencer started coughing first, though his position over her never faltered, and she heard his chest wheezing, and knew they needed to move away from the thick smog that blew into their faces. Morgan released her ear, tipping her head back to check her over once more.

“Kid! You okay?” He fretted, noticing the way her nose had started bleeding again from all the movement; the way the bruise had already started blotching her cheek from where Cyrus pistol whipped her.

“I didn’t think you’d come for me,” Was all she could say, and Derek thought it was the saddest he’d ever heard her.

Reid was pulling her to her feet then, where he was still hovering over her, despite the fact the blast had already cleared, still sputtering and hocking up a lung, but it didn’t stop her from throwing herself at his middle, burying her face in his dusty sweater, not caring one bit if he jostled her aching ribs.

He was trying to be gentle with her as he squeezed her back, but she knew by the way he pressed his face into her hair he needed it just as badly.

“You saved my life,” He said, his long arms wrapping around her waist, hauling her whole body against his.

She laughed through a cough, their cheeks brushing past one another as she pulled him in tighter, thankful, relieved.

“You saved mine,”

And then she heard Emily. Emily, who sounded frantic and heartbroken as she called for her, her voice breaking as if she was crying, or atleast on the verge of, and as comforting as Spencer’s long arms around her cracked ribs were, she needed to see her sister was okay.

Ripping herself from his embrace immediately, she tore off after the sound, and there she was. Her older sister, who had always seemed immovable, like she wouldn’t so much as budge for a bucking horse, like water couldn’t drown her, or however many unsubs she’d faced could stop her from catching them. Her older sister, who looked like she’d taken a few punches of her own, judging by the blood on her blue blouse, that looked around the crowd of fleeing people with watery eyes and a shaking bottom lip.

“EMILY,” She yelled, her voice a bleat, a lamb calling for its mother, as she sprinted down the steps, whatever strength she had left carrying her to where Emily was rushing towards her, taking the stairs in threes, “EM-”

She crashed into her sister’s chest, and it was only then she started crying.

“I swear I’ll never give you trouble again, I’ll never talk back, I’ll never be a bitch ever again-” It was all a slew of mumbles against her sisters shirt, that was beginning to wet through at the rate the tears were coming, “I thought he was going to shoot you-”

“I was so scared, Bug, oh my god,” Emily murmured into her hair, squeezing the life out of her baby sister that sniffled and sobbed, “You don’t ever, ever do that to me again,”

Bugsy shook her head, clawing at Emily’s back as she pulled her closer, feeling Emily stroking her hair softly to calm her even in the slightest. They stayed like that until she managed to wrangle her sobs into little sniffs, the fire burning her eyes where it burned the rest of the church to ashes.

She stayed with Emily for a month after that.

+4. The one where you leave the altar.

She knew she was turning heads, walking down the street of a drizzly day in Virginia, hair wet and sticking to her face, makeup running down her cheeks, and the sodden, dove white wedding dress clasped in her hands as she paced towards the government building.

Whether the guards recognised her as the Ambassador’s daughter, or whether they really didn’t want to get into it with a bride looking like that on her day, she didn’t know, but they opened the door for her nonetheless, exchanging raised brows as a trail of wet followed her gown over the marble floors.

Heading up the desk, she flashed her driver's licence, which was enough to gain her a visitors pass she didn’t bother putting to use as she headed for the elevator, her ballet pumps squeaking under the body of the dress. Waiting for the doors to start closing when she finally let a few tears slip, burying her face into her cold, drenched palms, undoubtedly making the mess of mascara even worse.

Her heart gave a leap when she heard someone stop the doors, hoping she could get to her sister with little delay, and she quickly wiped her face with whatever was left of her pretty, dobby cloth shawl she had yanked on before she’d ran.

Whatever excuse she was about to give, whatever one liner she was about to drop to clear the awkwardness this agent was about to walk in on was sucked out of her when she saw Spencer staring at her, his briefcase in his hands he’d used to hold the doors, a wide eyed look plastered on his face as soon as he saw her state.

“Bugsy,” It was somewhere between surprise and sadness, jumping into the elevator before the metal could shut again, the button for the sixth floor already lit up in a ring of red, “What are you- I didn’t even know…”

“Spencer!” As seemed to be a common occurrence between them now, she threw two very cold arms over his shoulders, tugging him for a hug he quickly reciprocated, feeling like she needed it in the moment, “It was so awful, I just couldn’t all those people staring at me, and he- I just feel so-”

“Hey slow down,” He soothed, slipping his favourite cardigan off his body to put over her shoulders, ignoring the way he cringed as it quickly got sodden, “Let’s get you to Emily, I’m sure we can fix this,”

She nodded, though he could tell she was still shaken up, the elevator dinging to a stop on the fifth floor where an agent looked ready to step in, his face dropping when he saw the sight.

“Sorry, we’re full,” Spencer said, with little room for discussion, pressing the button to close the doors once more, and taking her by the elbow as she began shivering, “We’re gonna be just fine, you look beautiful,”

She laughed sadly with a roll of her eyes, the tears sticking to her cheeks. She knew she looked no better than a drowned rat, windswept and disgruntled, her dress full of muck from the street.

“Thankyou, Spencer,” She mumbled, the door sliding open to the sixth floor, where Penelope and her everlasting smile greeted her favourite boy genius.

She almost dropped her glitter pen when she saw the woman stood next to him looking like Dorothy dragged through the twister.

“Oh you poor little lamb, what has happened to you honey!” She all but cried, the cute little pom poms in her hair bouncing as she brought Bugsy closer, taking her hands tightly. “Your hands are ice! You’ll catch cold with that wet hair, and your gorgeous dress-”

“Garcia,” Spencer cut her off, though the woman didn’t seem to mind being manhandled into the kind grip, he guessed her state had her letting her guard down, “This is Bugsy, Emily’s little sister.”

Penelope gasped, her ponytails swishing around some more, the gems on her glasses as bright as the light in her eyes as she yanked the younger girl in for a tight hug.

“It is so nice to meet you! Emily talks about you all the time,” She said, pulling away and fumbling through her pockets for her fresh pink handkerchief she always carried around, mopping up the girl's eyeliner.

“She-she does?” Bugsy asked, sniffling, her body trembling as the AC beat down through the water ladened on her body.

“Of course she does, come on, let’s go get you coffee, I have a new machine in my office that makes the best espresso-” Garcia grabbed her hand as if they were kids in the playground, as if she’d known the girl years, which she sort of had. She had, of course, stalked every single one of Emily’s known relatives, even a distant cousin that never left Europe, and that had thrown up the quiet corner of the internet that Bugsy took up.

“I needed to talk to my sister, if that’s okay,” Bugsy braved enough to say, the swishing of her dress on the carpet making her wince, practically hearing the gallon of rain that soaked the expensive fabric.

“Ofcourse! How silly of me, I’ll bring it out right to you, little bug. You just go with Spencer,” Handing him the handkerchief, she set off towards her ‘bat cave’ in search of a hot beverage for the shivering woman, “Spencer, clean her makeup!”

He did as he was told, dabbing the water off her face as he led her to the BAU, where Emily and Morgan sat on their desks, chatting as they finished off lunch, Emily flicking through photos on her phone of baby Henry that JJ had sent over to her that morning from maternity leave.

“He’s just the sweetest little boy, he’s got the biggest blue eyes just like Jayj,” She said through a smile, “You know Will even said-”

“Holy shit-” Morgan cut her off, and she glanced at him, wondering about his use of a curse. Following his eyes over her shoulder, she swivelled in her position to see where Spencer led a very wet, shaken version of her little sister through the doors of the BAU, a snowy ball gown hanging off her, a veil clinging to her hair that had seen much better days.

“Holy shit,” She agreed, immediately darting for the girl that tugged Spencer’s cardigan tighter to her body, “Bugsy,”

“Emily, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t take up too much time- I just couldn’t do it- and I know mom’s always saying ‘Bring home a doctor, bring home a rich man,’ but I just couldn’t no matter how rich his daddy is, he wasn’t even too bad-” It all came out in a slur, not making too much sense, and she didn’t stop until Emily held up her hands, as if easing a wild dog.

“Woah, take it easy, kiddo,” Morgan hushed, as Emily brought a hand over her sister’s cheek, wiping away the last of the mascara, “What happened?”

Bugsy took a deep breath, looking between Emily and Derek, feeling the rain drip down her back.

“So a few weeks ago, Mom made me go to that stupid debutante ball,” She started, rolling her eyes already as Emily winced, knowing Elizabeth loved any excuse to dress her youngest up like a Barbie doll.

“I hated those things,” She confessed, shaking her head, “I thought you’d agreed you didn’t have to go to them anymore,”

“That was while I was in college, she said at least I could focus on my studies,” The girl explained, as Garcia tottered back through the office, a steaming cup of coffee in her beloved Bratz mug. Taking it from the chirpy woman, she took a deep gulp, not caring if it burned her mouth as she wished for the damn chill to go away, “Thankyou- But she made me go to this one on the condition she would pay off some of my college loans, and I was dumb enough to fall for her bribe,”

She huffed, taking another sip, her stomach warming with the hot liquid settling through her throat.

“You know how she is at these things, she knows everyone, and everyone knows her. I had four guys asking for my dance card within minutes of arriving there, it was like trying to walk through a dog pound wearing a meat suit, all the hand holding, trying to touch my waist- one guy even called me Madam Prentiss,” She grimaced, shuddering at the thought of it, “Madam? No one even calls mom that-”

“Focus,” Emily reminded gently, and she seemed to nod to herself, setting back on track.

“Right. And then he was there. Byron Hastings.” Bugsy said, wrapping her hands around the mug some more.

“Oh, isn’t he that super yummy bachelor that just inherited his fathers business?” Garcia jumped in, not noticing how it made her wince, “I hear his dad totally owns a bunch of shares in Facebook and as like just signed a deal with a new company that will change the future of computing-”

“Not now, baby girl,” Morgan said calmly, patting Penelope on her shoulder when she saw the bride’s crestfallen face.

“Right, sorry. Your turn, little bug,” She said, shaking her head and fiddling with her dozen rings.

“Yeah, that’s him.” She replied, running a slightly warmed finger over her eyelash where rain even collected there, “And you know, I wasn’t complaining, he was certainly easy on the eyes, and he smelled nice, like he just smelled rich, but man alive he was so boring,” She sighed, “I like computers as much as the next girl, no offence, but he didn’t once ask me what I was into or, and when I tried to bring up my degree he just patted me on the head and said ‘That’s nice’ like I was some child that had brought him a pretty colouring or something,”

“Ouch,” Emily grimaced, rubbing her arms over the cardigan to warm her up a little more, “And then?”

“And eventually, his dad and my mom cut a deal that we’d make a good pair. He said we could be married within the season, and suddenly everyone seemed up for it, and it was like no matter how hard I tried to dig my heels in, no one would listen, and mom just seemed so pleased with me-” She spluttered, sipping her drink to catch her breath, “I just let it happen and just thought, you know, maybe we could learn to like each other, or we could just be like mom and dad and separate in everything but paper,”

“It’s your life, who is she to tell you how you’re gonna live it,” Emily was outraged, the tip of her nose pink, her dark eyes stormy as her hands fell to her hips, huffing as if it had been her backed into a corner, “I can’t believe she would do this to you,”

“I was fine with it, really. It's not like its the fifteenth century when I’d be forced to consummate- anyway,” Bugsy rubbed her face, “I just got there, and mom put on my veil and told me I’d make a lovely Mrs Hastings, and just the sound of it- I couldn’t-”

“What on earth is going on?” A new voice cut through the BAU, and the group disbanded like kids caught trading answers to the homework. Rossi and Hotch stood by the unit chief’s office, brows furrowed at the wet bride and his team that tended to her as if she were a princess.

“Should we be expecting four wet bridesmaids too?” Rossi asked, the two of them making the steps down to the floor, approaching the guilty faced woman, noting Spencer’s cardigan wrapped over her shoulders.

“Nope, just me,” Her joke fell flat as she met the stony face of Aaron Hotchner, who looked thoroughly unimpressed, “Nice to see you again, Mr Hotchner, sir,”

His gaze slid to Emily, mouth opening to share whatever scathing remark bounced around his mouth, but the younger girl beat him to it, everyone’s eyebrows raising when she all but cut him off.

“This wasn’t on Emily, sir, I just showed up out of the blue, I can go- I’ll go- I just need to figure out where I’m staying since I left my purse at the church- don’t you worry I’ll be out of your hair, Aaro- sir,” Bugsy stammered, plonking the mug onto Emily’s desk, backing away to the doors of the office, clutching her visitor pass tight in her fist.

Maybe it was because she looked so hopeless, or maybe it was the way his team shot him the same look of horror he would be so regimental, or maybe even it was the fact part of her reminded him of Sean, only his brother wouldn’t have had the courtesy to apologise for his mess.

Sighing, he gestured her to come back, “Wait,” He said her name, her government name because the other one didn’t fit right in his mouth, “Reid, get her some clothes out your go bag. Emily, tell your mother she’s safe and will be staying in Quantico until you can figure something out,”

Heaving a sigh of relief, she launched her still sodden form at the chief, wrapping him in a stiff hug, bolder than anyone else on the team had ever dared to be.

“I swear to god, Mr Hotchner, the next letter you're getting will be the best one yet,” She mumbled into his hard chest, and he fought off the way the corners of his lips twitched upwards. Patting her on the back gently, he ignored the way his dress shirt wet through.

–

let me know what you think! mAYBE A FEW MORE PARTS COMING UP ??

Edit: This is a part one of 3 or 4 I have planned, thankyou so much for all the love on this I did not expect the reaction 🥺🥺

SECOND EDIT: part two and three are out now!! Have a look at the top where it says ‘next chpt and it’s there bbys!!

THIRD EDIT: we are now balls deep into this universe here's th link for the masterlist

#spencer reid x reader #Spencer reid imagine #Spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds x reader #Prentiss #prentiss!Reader #criminal minds fanfiction #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fanfiction #mathew grey gubler #Matthew grey gubler x reader

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maxivstappen · 2 months

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THE GREATEST

[ part two / masterlist / requests are open ]

☽｡⋆ being in a relationship with a formula 1 driver like lando was hard, but not impossible. right? a story based on THE GREATEST by billie eilish. — lando norris x fem!reader

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 angst! pure angst, swearing. i’ll write a part 2 if requested 𝄞 4.4k words

❝ I’m trying my best to keep you satisfied ❞

Loving a formula 1 driver, let alone being in a relationship with one, wasn’t easy. But that didn’t stop you. In fact, you were sure nothing was ever going to be able to get in between the love that Lando and you shared, the kisses and the late night cuddles, the fun family dinners and the celebrations of his milestones. Everything was so perfect.

Yes, sometimes it’s hard to meet his standards, sometimes having you leave your own family to go attend races with him, or the blatant flirting he would still be partaking in at after-race parties, it was definitely a flaw of your relationship, but maybe you should’ve just worn something prettier or done your makeup in a different way, in the end it’s your fault if his attention wasn’t keen on you, right?

But no matter what, you were ready to do it for him. He’s your main priority, just as he should be. That’s what makes a relationship a functioning one, doesn’t it?

❝ Let you get your rest while I stayed up all night ❞

Of course you weren’t always his main priority, but who were you to judge him? He’s a professional racing driver, it’s not only a job but a complete career, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything in this world. Having a world championship under his belt, that was more important than you. You just have to live like that, someone had to put in the work for the relationship. And because it definitely wasn’t Lando, it was you. But you didn’t mind, you’d do it all over again for him. Because you truly loved him, and to you, there was nothing in this world stronger than love.

So when you both finally get home after a long race weekend, you don’t mind doing the cooking and cleaning and laundry for him. You also don’t mind him going to sleep while you’re up packing up luggage for him and you to depart for the next GP. You would’ve appreciated some skin contact after such a busy and nerve wrecking weekend, but if he needed rest, then he should have it. You could rest another time, maybe during the flight or while he was spending time with his friends. You weren’t sure why, but Lando always insisted on not having you with him, always making up excuses why you couldn’t come even if in reality, you were at “home” trying to get used to the new place you’d have to stay at for the next week. Maybe you would’ve preferred being with him, or having him with you, or being in your home country with your loved ones he was yet to meet, but that’s okay. He had his fun with his friends and their girlfriends, that’s what mattered.

Maybe he didn’t want you there because, while he dated a girl he’s known since forever, a girl who knew him before his win and his fame and his career, all the others were dating models and successful women. Maybe you embarrassed him a little bit, so you were understanding when he told you to stay at home. His fans didn’t exactly love you either, so actually, it was really thoughtful of him not to have you by his side when he went out, because then his fan base and the news wouldn’t be able to pick at every little flaw you had, which you had surprisingly lots of, as the media told you.

The clock read 5am when you finally finished packing up the luggage and went to bed yourself. Well, not the bed but rather the couch, because Lando had just previously told you not to wake him if he was already asleep, and who were you to rip him out of his peaceful slumber when he had so much pressure on him the last three days? It was a little cold, but that’s okay. It was just kinda difficult to fall asleep on the small, hard, uncomfortable couch.

The clock read 8am when you woke up to prepare breakfast for him and you.

❝ And you don’t wanna know how alone I’ve been ❞

You knew better than to complain. Of course you felt a little bit alone in the huge apartments while he was away, spending time at the track or in the gym with his friends. How could you not? You were in a country you’ve never been in before, a country with no familiar faces or friends or people you could talk to besides the McLaren team and well, your boyfriend. But in the end, Lando showed you the world. And you had to be grateful for that. Even if he basically just pushed you around the world and then picked you up again when it was time to travel farther. And god, how you missed your family. And how deeply you wanted them to meet your one and only love, Lando. It was sickening, the need to be at home again.

One time after a long day of qualifying, you told Lando about your homesickness and that you felt a bit alone on this journey.

He got mad and told you if you wanted, you could just leave. He’s not keeping you here. 20 minutes after, you were stood in the kitchen making dinner for the two of you. Your response to “Are you actually fucking crying right now?” was a quiet “I was just cutting onions.”

His reply to “I thought we were eating together, I made dinner” was “I’m going out to eat with Charles and his girlfriend.”

You felt your heart break in that second, but he was just mad and not thinking straight. Outbursts are okay sometimes.

❝ Let you come and go, whatever state I’m in ❞

You spent the whole evening and night crying, putting his food in the fridge in case he was hungry later. The tears didn’t stop until he came back through the door, obviously a bit tipsy. He quickly wrapped his arms around you and told you how sorry he was, telling you that next time, he would take you with him to dinner. You knew it wasn’t true, and he knew as well.

At least you felt his touch again, his arms around you and his rough fingers caressing your cheek. That was worth the tears and the unappreciated cooking.

❝ Man am I the greatest? My congratulations ❞

Miami GP ‘24. Lando’s first win in his Formula 1 career. You were the proudest girlfriend in the world and you couldn’t wait to celebrate his win with him tomorrow, knowing he’d be busy partying with the others today. You’re in Miami, after all. And he has just won. Of course he had to celebrate that with his boys, surrounded by beautiful women and loads of alcohol. He would never cheat on you, but you were sure he wouldn’t mind being in the presence of some women who were gifted with a prettier face and body than you were. That’s okay, at least he doesn’t use you for your looks.

As he stood there on the highest step of the podium, smiling like a little kid who had just fulfilled his dreams, smiling like he once had smiled at you, it made you so incredibly happy and emotional and you couldn’t wait to finally see him and give him a big celebration kiss.

Once he was back in the paddock he told you to wait until the cameras were gone. You didn’t get a hug either. Not until you were back in the apartment.

At last. you got your hug and a kiss. As a goodbye before he left with Max.

❝ All my love and patience, all my admiration ❞

The day after, you woke up at 7, waiting for him to wake up while you were already up in the kitchen, baking a small cake with a “one” on it, all decorated in orange.

Even if you were left unsatisfied yesterday, that didn’t stop you from still feeling eternally proud of him, and proud to be able to call yourself his girlfriend. He was so dedicated to the things he loved, it was a pleasure to watch him go through life with his determination. Racing was his passion, there’s no shame in sometimes forgetting your girlfriend for it.

He finally entered the kitchen at 12, smiling at the small cake placed upon the dining table. “Surprise!” You said, and he immediately went to hug and kiss you, smiling just as brightly as he did on that podium. Moments like these were a reminder that he did in fact love you, and once again, that it’s all worth it.

❝ All the times I waited for you to want me naked ❞

You often wondered how the others managed to keep up their relationships.

Just recently you were having lunch with the other WAGs at a restaurant near the circuit. Originally, you didn’t want to come, still feeling insecure about what the media has to say about you, the ugly duckling around the most beautiful women in F1 history. However, they insisted. At the table the girls began talking about the party after Lando’s win, and how proud you must’ve been to see him on that podium. You loved talking about it, until you were asked why you didn’t come with him to the party. A lame excuse of “I was just tired and not feeling well” made the others look at you weirdly. How could she be so selfish and miss her boyfriend’s afterparty for that? Alex, Charles’ girlfriend smiled at you with a knowing look, but you pretended not to notice, feeling embarrassed.

The next topic at the table was rather intimate, and you wanted to puke right then and there. Were you really the only one who hasn’t been touched in so long, because there just wasn’t enough time between all the travelling and racing and exhaustion? Or were you just not good enough? Was it really your looks? Should you change?

You missed it dearly, the intimate times with Lando. The ones where he finally took care of you instead of the other way around, the ones where you could feel the connection between you two with all your senses. Was it your fault that these times stopped? Lando was so perfect, it just couldn’t be his fault.

Maybe you just had to wait until he wanted you again.

❝ Made it all look painless, man, am I the greatest? ❞

You didn’t show your feelings often, not your real ones. The times he had catched you crying for him on you knees were pathetic little situations he shouldn’t have seen you in. When asked, you denied. “Do you feel lonely in this relationship?” — “No.” “Does he make you cry often?” — “No.” “Do you think your relationship is slowly breaking apart?” — “No.”

Talking about it with the women around the paddocks or when you’d facetime your friends from home, you never once said anything bad about Lando. Never once complained about how he treated you or how he ignored your feelings and your endeavors. Not even your closest friends knew what was really going on, or maybe, you just didn’t know that yourself. In your mind, this was just a phase where his career just made it impossible for him to focus on you. Someday this would change. Sooner or later, it would change.

For everyone else, you had the greatest, perfect, flawless relationship. And you didn’t mind keeping that imagine up. For his sake.

❝ Doing what’s right without a reward ❞

And so it kept going. You making efforts, him abandoning you. No matter what you did for him, no matter how much heart and love you put in for him, it was left unappreciated. But that‘s okay, still. You were in a relationship, your only task was to love him, and you did. Because that‘s the right thing to do in a relationship, and for him, you‘d do anything. No matter if he appreciated it or not at the moment, you knew that, eventually, he would.

❝ And we don‘t have to fight when it‘s not worth fighting for ❞

At least you hoped that he would change someday, so far he obviously hadn’t, and it was slowly getting to you in a more serious manner. In a way that might worry you and the people around you, in a way you wouldn‘t forget. That one time you prepared dinner for the both of you and he went out with Charles and Alex instead, it was all forgotten in a matter of seconds when he apologized. But now every single interaction he had with other women haunted you, asleep or awake. No apology would help you actually think he would change his current treatment towards you, and as it seemed, he didn‘t care either.

There was no point in fighting anymore, no point in telling him how you feel whenever he walks out the door, leaving you alone with nothing but your awful thoughts. For fuck‘s sake, you left all you had behind to be there for him, and how does he show his gratefulness? He doesn’t, because he isn’t fucking grateful, and he couldn’t care less about you and your dumb feelings. He doesn’t care that you want nothing more than to finally be able to introduce him to your family, he doesn’t care that you gave up your own career for his, and he doesn’t care that while he’s treating you the way he is, all the people who knew the both of you and basically the whole internet was only picking you apart. Never him.

Oh you were such a shitty girlfriend refusing to kiss him in front of the cameras after his first win, but wasn’t he the one who pushed you away? And how could you miss the party that night, the party dedicated to your oh soo perfect boyfriend? Do you not care about him enough? Were you not proud? So many girls would trade their life for a day in your shoes, and you just didn’t appreciate that? What a disappointment you are to the WAGs, and what a disappointment you must be to Lando.

“Lando please, listen to me,” — “No, I’m done with your insufferable complaining all the time. I meant it the first time I said it and I mean it now, if you wanna leave, leave.”

❝ And you don’t wanna know what I would’ve done, anything at all, worse than anyone ❞

You would’ve walked through fire for him to love you again. For everything to go back like it once was. When he would brag about you to his friends and even in interview, when he took you to hang out with his friends and to parties, always keeping an arm around your shoulders so other guys wouldn’t even dare to look at you, when he was so eager to fulfill not only his, but also your dreams, wether that be a simple one, like him meeting your parents in your childhood home, or the greater ones, like becoming not only a good, but a great graphic designer. When he would watch you draw and perfect yet the smallest details with nothing but the growing admiration for you visible in his eyes. When he would kiss you good night and good morning, when he would ask about your day and passionately tell you about his. Back to when he had loved you. But now it was too late. All the things you had done for him, all the things you would probably still do, in the end, were for nothing more than a broken heart.

The sleepless nights. The nerve wrecking days. The painful parting from your family and friends. The abandonment of the life with him you had so desperately wished for.

It was all for nothing.

❝ I loved you, and I still do. Just wanted passion from you, just wanted what I gave you ❞

Last day before the summer break, the last race. And probably, the last day of him and you.

You were done with his shit, the sad look on your face visible to everyone in the room as you sat and watched the race from the McLaren hospitality, his parents seated next to you. Something felt very off, your usual happy and optimistic demeanor completely washed off, replaced by a dark, almost expressionless look. They sensed that something might have happened between Lando and you, but nobody dared to ask, too busy watching the intense race.

The outcome was disappointing, Lando finishing behind Max, the one he’d have to beat to win the championship. The team and the people inside the paddock and the hospitality clapped for him and Oscar anyway, with Oscar finishing second and Lando fifth. You cheered and smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes. You knew what was to come once you’d be back in the hotel. You were scared, sure it would be the most painful thing you’d ever have to do, putting all the things you’d done for him, all the things he’d done to you, in its shadow.

The celebration went well, again, no hug or kiss for you. You were sure his mother had even scolded him for it, but that wasn’t important anymore. You didn’t really care anyway, the media would run their mouths about you anyway, and Lando surely doesn’t give a shit either way. You desperately needed an answer, you wanted him to explain it to you. What had suddenly happen, what did you do wrong, for him to suddenly act like this? And if he fell out of love, then why couldn’t he just tell you?

Meanwhile Lando was busy celebrating Oscar‘s podium, taking pictures for the McLaren instagram account and whatnot, then doing the post race interviews.

He loved you, he really did. But he just didn’t see you as someone he wanted to spend this life with. He couldn’t imagine living his private life without you by his side, he wanted you to come with him to visit his family at home, to come with him when he would meet up with Max and the others during summer break or really, he wanted to just do nothing with you, nothing but share small kisses and cuddling on his couch at home, eating some homemade food and drinking a glass of wine together. At the same time, he thought that you didn’t fit in. Not in this life.

You met when he wasn’t yet the person he is now. When he was still passionate about so many other things other than just racing. Of course this had always been a part of him, but so were you. And now its just racing that occupied his mind, no single corner in his head left for his girlfriend. He knew it hurt you, but at the same time, part of what the media had to say about you was true. The first season he had spent with you by his side, the internet was already raging about how you weren‘t the typical WAG, and how they thought seeing you next to someone like a Kelly Piquet, you did seem a little weird. Lando didn’t want to be confronted with these opinions anymore, so instead of standing up for you, he decided to ‘hide‘ you. To not put you in the center of attention after a race to hug and kiss you, to just let you stand there and wait until you were inside where no one could see you. He also avoided reading anything the internet had to say about you, so the fact that his plan had only made you gain more and more hate, went unnoticed. Just like your complaints when he didn’t want to be seen with you after races at parties or even in a restaurant for dinner with Charles and Alexandra. Of course they had invited the both of you, and not only him. Lando came up with an excuse so he the paparazzi wouldn’t see you. The rumor that Lando and you have broken up after he was seen at dinner alone didn‘t seem to bother him either, but it did you. He thought you liked it this way, as he thought, without any hate comments about your looks or the way you’d dress compared to the others. He thought you appreciated not having to dress up for parties or the countless hangouts with his friends. He thought you cried that night after he was out for dinner because you cooked for him and he just went out, not that you cried because you felt not good enough for him to want you to come with him.

He really was stupid enough to think you were happy with all of this.

And while he was happy to be able to finally spend his summer break with you and only you, it all came crashing down when you were back in your shared apartment. Tears were forming in his eyes while yours were already streaming down your face as you yelled at him, telling him every yet so small detail that left your heart crushed and broken while he was busy „hiding you“, or as he explained it to you, „protecting you.“ this wasn’t protection, this was blatant ignorance. And finally in this relationship, you did something for yourself. You left.

Maybe it was miscommunication, or him refusing to communicate at all. But that didn‘t matter now, ‘cause now, it was over. No more kisses, no more cuddles and no more meeting friends or families. But most importantly, no more crying, no more sleepless nights, no more unappreciated support, no more hiding.

❝ I waited and waited ❞

Finally at home, your family had expected to see you with Lando by your side, and they were so very excited to finally be able to meet the guy their lovely daughter was head over heels for, using every chance she had to gush over him and how unbelievably proud she was of him. So when you stood there with puffy eyes and all your luggage placed next to you, they knew the tears you cried weren’t happy tears from finally behind home again. They were tears from saying goodbye to the life you were ready to spend with your boyfriend, who was now on the other side of the world.

You knew it was stupid, but you couldn‘t help waiting for him to reach out to you again. A call or a message, hell, you hoped he was as miserable without you as you were without him so that maybe Max or even Oscar had to contact you again. Despite all the times he had hurt you, you missed him so dearly.

But after months and months of waiting, you decided that there was no use in waiting. It’s over, and its for the better, it has to be.

It was gonna be hard seeing him again, once the summer break is over. Even if the love between Lando and you ended, your love for Formula 1 didn’t, and you weren’t about to give that up just for the sake of not having to see him. You‘d be in the stands or in front of the TV, he‘d be in his car or in front of the camera. No point in worrying. But still, the first few races, you watched curled up next to your best friend and your parents from home. It was so nice to finally be able to see everyone again, everyone you had to miss all these months you were away. Your dad and you used to always watch races together, and you were more than grateful to finally be able to do exactly that again.

❝ Man am I the greatest? God, I hate it, all my love and patience – Unappreciated. You said your heart was jaded, you couldn’t even break it, I shouldn’t have to say it … ❞

His instagram and twitter definitely make it seem like your broken heart doesn’t match his perfectly fine one. He seemed happier than ever, having fun with his friends at parties and driving around different towns with different girls. Seeing him was draining, but how were you supposed to never hear about him again when the entire internet was screaming his name? You wanted your life to finally feel easier now, but it seemed to only get harder.

You felt you lost your soulmate, while he only lost his greatest burden.

It wasn’t until you watched the first race after the summer break with your dad that it all came flooding back to you. Lando crossed the finish line first, and as the camera switched to show him get out of his car and rip off his helmet to kiss his new girlfriend that looked weirdly similar to you, surrounded by loud cheers, clapping and ecstatic, smiling faces, you realize that maybe, he really didn’t love you. And that he didn’t *want* to kiss you after his races, because it seems that if he had wanted to, he would’ve.

At the same time, even while standing on the highest step of that podium, Lando couldn‘t help but think about you, how stupid he was to treat you like a piece of shit when all you wanted was to be there for him after races like this one and most importantly, why the hell no girl he‘s been with after your breakup felt even remotely close to you. You were the greatest thing he‘d ever had, no trophy, no price would ever compare, and he managed to take it all for granted.

If he had just put in a little more effort, really, you could’ve been the greatest .

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luvonmes-blog · 9 months

Text

Guilty

Y/N and Suguru were damn near polar opposites of each other. Y/N, a girl who wore her heart on her sleeve and gave and gave until she couldn't anymore. Suguru, a cocky dickhead who was spoon-fed opportunities and was given everything he ever wanted. how could the two ever make anything work?

Warnings - 18+ MDNI!! enemies to lovers! hockey player!geto, ice skater!reader, tatted!geto, pierced!geto, he gets bitched, getos a whiny little boy, smut, rough sex, sappy sex, daddy kink, breeding kink towards the end, some spit, sex in a public place, at some point Satoru walks in, Y/N kinda cries a lot (self-projection is real). i think theres more? lmk if i missed anything! w.c - 18.5k, not proof read. Song - Guilty By: TAEMIN

PSA - please do not compare this to Icebreaker. ik because of ice skating and the release of this book it’s the first thing you think of but, number one, that book sucks. number two, the book is supposed to have elements and revolve around muslim culture, the author obviously did not do enough research on what it is to be muslim and i hate it. number three, i actually spent time researching and even had someone help me make sure this was the best i can possibly make it, i’d like if my work was appreciated for being my work instead of it being appreciated because it reminds you of smt else. thank you!

all in all, DO NOT COMPARE THIS TO ICEBREAKER.

very special shout out to @r0ses4ndlilies for helping me use the proper ice skating terms!!!

----------------

to say Suguru Geto was meant to be something - someone - important was as if to say the sun was meant to shine. obvious.

from a young age Suguru knew he was special, gifted in academics and sports, the only person to rival him - his own best friend, Satoru. the boys were their hometowns' prized possessions. their families bragged about them, boys wanted to be them, girls fawned after them. being in their presence meant there was never a dry day but as they grew older, they grew more focused. straying away from others to pursue their dream careers. the dream was finally reached in their college years, being accepted into the prestigious university, Tokyo Metropolitan Technical College. as soon as they graduated high school they were offered full rides to the school, as long as they played on the hockey team.

they took the offer without hesitation, going to one of the highest ranked schools and getting to play the sport of their dreams? easy yes. that was almost four years ago, the boys are in their last year of college, still playing for the hockey team, almost ready to graduate. the team was the best it had been in years, only three losses since Suguru and Satoru joined the team. not only were they the best on the team but the most popular in their frat as well - Sigma Beta Chi, courtesy of Satoru dragging Sugura to join along with him.

then there was you.

to say you had busted your ass to get where you were today would be an understatement. you poured your blood sweat and tears to get to the spot you’re in, captain of the TMTC ice skating team. as a child you’d always dreamed of becoming a figure skater. a video you had seen sparked your interest and since then you’d never let it go. it was hard, growing up your grandfather had tried his best to support you, going out of his way to pay for your skating lessons and even putting you into an after school program. he never told you of his financial struggles, he didn’t want you to give up on your dream but when you found out, you vowed to pay him back any way you could. you made sure your grades in school couldn’t be challenged, you took on many temp jobs, making money any way you could, while balancing the energy-draining skate practices you went to at night.

in your third year both upper and lower-classmen voted you as captain for the school's team and you were over the moon. you immediately called your grandfather to tell him the great news and he was just as happy as you, forever and always your number one supporter. since you became captain you’ve pushed yourself to and over your limit, challenging yourself in any way possible to make sure you were always at your best. many late nights were spent at the rink until your legs hurt so much you weren’t sure you’d be able to walk back to your dorm. you made sure the team was as best as they possibly could be, some members thought you were a bit harsh but never challenged you. after all, you had won them gold three times in a row for the first time in years.

the only conflict you had ever had in your four years of being a student at TMTC was with the hockey team. ironic seeing as your sports were the most similar of any other sport on campus but the rumor of all hockey players seemed true, they were dicks. especially the co-captains Suguru and Satoru. they didn’t seem to take your sport seriously, always taunting you whenever they’d see you. snide comments about your figure when they’d see you at practice or remarks about the uniforms you and the team wore. you wouldn’t go as far as to say you hate them (that’s just not you) but you weren’t particularly fond of them. they constantly got on your nerves, their deep boisterous laughs making your eye twitch whenever you heard them.

they ground your gears so much you just tried your best to avoid them. it wasn’t that hard seeing as you all lived on opposite sides of campus and in the two classes you had with Suguru, you sat closest to the wall while he sat dead center with his loud friends. Suguru was smart, extraordinarily so, which is exactly why you didn’t understand why he was such an asshole. you truly believed you two could be great friends but he was so rude it turned you away almost immediately. you never understood why he was so mean to you. the first time you had met you were all smiles and kind waves, you went to introduce yourself to him and he shot you down.

the coaches of both teams had called a meeting for all new team members. it was a run down of the rules and regulations, anti-harassment, anti-bullying, non-discrimination. so much that has done for you. after the meeting was over the coaches gave you the choices of either leaving or the opportunity to mingle. you took the chance to mingle, forever a social butterfly, going up to many different people. some of the girls from your team were a little hostile but open to talking, the hockey boys well… if they didn’t try to hit on you they mostly seemed uninterested in the conversation. making your rounds you finally ended up in front of Suguru and Satoru. Satoru had looked you up and down before walking away, hadn’t even given you the time. holding your hand out for Suguru to shake, you smiled at him.

“hi, i’m Y/N.” he stared at you before mumbling under his breath. you thought he was going to say something to you but Satoru had called after him, saying something about pizza. Suguru placed the cup he was drinking out of in your hand and walked over to his best friend. “o-oh…” he looked back at you, your face stuck with your mouth open and eyes wide, shocked. a couple of times after you tried to approach him, trying your best to give him the benefit of the doubt, maybe he’s not so mean. time and time again he proved you wrong. you would bring in gifts for the team, snacks for practice, water, anything they’d need. everyone was always so grateful, Satoru had even said thank you maybe a handful of times. Suguru had never even muttered anything.

you kept trying, ever the people pleaser, finding different ways to appease him, if you noticed he seemed to enjoy something more than another you would bring it in more. you would try to catch up to him after practice, spark up a conversation, he never seemed to care enough. you couldn’t understand why you were so obsessed with making him like you. maybe it was because growing up you always made sure everyone liked you, never leaving the house with a hair out place, always bending over backwards to make sure everyone was at least content with you. maybe it was because you couldn’t function if you felt like there was any sort of scrutiny upon your character. maybe you were so obsessed with making him like you because you had a little crush- no, no way. you kept up, trying so hard to get on his good side. it took up until one night, one night and the fixation fell. you were walking out after a long day of practice, he was in front of you, looking down on his phone.

“hey!” you yelled after him, starting in a little jog to catch up to him. he stopped for a second as you stepped next to him. “hi.” you were panting a little bit, breaths coming out in clouds due to the cold air. the snow that was falling landed in your eyelashes, you were smiling at him, so bright and wide, you looked so cute. cuter than anyone Suguru has seen before. “um, i saw a spin you did back there when you were practicing. i was wondering if maybe you could show it to me. i’ve seen some other skaters on your team do it before too, it’s really cool and i was hoping i could take it back to my team and show them.” you looked up at him, hopeful.

“yeah, no.”

“oh. please? i’d really appreciate it.” you flashed him with that bright smile of yours. he was tempted to say yes, so tempted. if he did teach you maybe he could make you smile more. smile at him.

“i said no.” you pouted, he was walking away before he turned back around to face you. your face lit back up, eyes sparkling, maybe he changed his mind? “and leave me alone, i notice the weird shit you do to get my attention. it’s annoying, stop.” your face dropped. he turned his back towards you again. after that day you did exactly what he said, left him alone. from that day on you’d begun avoiding him.

you’d done a great job at it too, for years you stayed out his way… until today.

it was another late night at the rink. wednesdays the rinks were always empty for mandatory deep cleaning, the captains would usually ask the manager of the building if they could borrow it on these nights to practice by themselves. there was a deal that the captains of the separate teams could have the rink every-other wednesday, tonight was your night. you were on your way into the rink, texting your friend Bri, she was telling you about how Satoru was staring at her from across the lecture hall. she was obsessed, it was odd seeing as you told her how much he got on your nerves and how he teased you in public. she didn’t seem to care too much.

as you were heading to the locker room you heard clinking coming from the ice, you had assumed it was the cleaning crew, they’d usually be finishing up right about now. lacing up your skates you finally put your phone down, over Bri’s delusions, you were too afraid to cut her off as a friend, scared of the potential consequences. walking to the rink, your guards scuffing against the floor as you dragged your feet, already feeling the pain in your legs. you were just about to sit down and take your guards off before you saw him. the infamous number two on his jersey moving against his body as he moved the hockey puck around with his customized stick.

“hey!” you yelled out through the windows separating the bleachers and the rink. “what are you doing?” he stopped just as he was about to hit the puck into the makeshift goal he mapped out in the corner. turning around to look at you with low eyes.

“what does it look like i’m doing?” he answered back, snarkily.

“it looks like you’re taking up my time.” you were annoyed, he knows this is your time, you’d even specified yesterday. talking just loudly enough for the hockey team to hear from across the rink, you knew they were listening in, they always do.

“your time?” he scoffed.

“yeah, my time.” you rolled your eyes. “listen, i don’t know how long you’ve been here but it’s long enough. i really don’t want to be mean or make this bigger than it is but i really need to practice. i’d really appreciate it if you left.” you gave him the kindest smile you could then sat down to take the guards off your skates.

“alright, princess, i was here first. that means i get the rink.” his arms were out at his side, gesturing to the rink. you shot back up quickly.

“no!” you exclaimed. “this is my night. you being here first doesn’t mean anything. and i told you to stop calling me that.” princess. the stupid nickname he had given you two years ago. you were leaving the rink after a meeting between the two teams, him and Satoru trailing behind laughing and giggling to each other. he’d tried calling after you, yelling your name a couple of times, you had ignored him, not wanting to deal with their antics. he yelled after you once more before the godforsaken nick-name fell from his lips. you stopped immediately, turning on your heels before telling him to not call you that. after that he made it a point to call you it whenever he could.

“first come first serve, princess.” your eye twitched.

“Geto-”

“what’s up with the formalities? can’t call me by my name?” he raised an eyebrow at you.

“can you just leave?”

“i already told you-”

“i know what you told me and i’m telling you, it’s my night here and i’d like to practice now.” your tone was stern.

“no.” he stated simply. you guffawed.

“no?”

“no.” you took a deep breath before turning away.

“y’know what, nevermind.” beginning to walk away you heard the sound of his skates against the ice.

“you giving up that easily princess!?” he yelled after you. you turned back around to find him at the door of the rink, coming towards you.

“can you just not? i’m not in the mood for this today.” turning back around and trudging to the locker room. he caught up to you quickly - the advantage of having long legs - grabbing your arm. you pulled away immediately, walking away faster. at that he put out his stick, knocking it against the blade of your right skate, harder than he intended. you hit the ground before you could try to catch yourself. your knees took the brunt of the fall as well as your palms. turning over to sit down you felt a sharp pain in your ankle. as you lifted to assess it you heard a snap, yout foot fell ungracefully. looking down, a piece of the blade of your skate lay next to your shoe.

“shit.” Suguru muttered under his breath. “i- i’m sorry.” you wouldn’t look up at him, staring at your broken skate. he heard your shuddering breath before he saw a tear fall and soak into your stockings. “um- here, let me-”

“asshole.” he reached to help you up but you pulled away. unlacing your other skate and ripping it off, you shot up, grabbing your skates along with the broken blade, stumbling before quickly limping away. “you’re such a fucking asshole.” sniffling and wiping your face, you headed to the locker room. he followed after. “just go away.”

“stop being such a bitch and let me help you.” you stopped and whipped around to face him.

“i’m being bitch?” you questioned exasperatedly. “you broke my fucking skate and i’m being a bitch?!” he had never heard you speak so crudely. you’ve called him an asshole on multiple occasions, him and Satoru but he’d never heard you say fuck. it’s like you refused. “look at what you did! you’ve been torturing me since junior year and i’m the fucking bitch! do you know how much these cost?! how much new ones will cost?!” you were damn near hyperventilating, pacing back and forth.

“i’ll get you a new pair.” you scoffed and put your hands on your hips, facing the wall, the shoes in each one of your hands.

“you'll get me a new pair. you’ll get me a new pair?! do you even know where these came from?!” you were in distress, overwhelmed, Suguru seemed to have that effect on you. “you can’t just get me a new pair, Geto. i can’t believe you.” your voice broke. “i- i always knew you were a dick but i really didn’t you’d go so far to break my skates.”

“it’s really not that big of a deal.” he rolled his eyes.

“not a big deal?” you finally turned to face him, the look on your face did something to him, it actually made him feel… bad. “they were from my grandfather, he made them for me in junior year and the guy who made them closed shop the next year. you can’t get another pair.” shit. shit. he fucked up, bad. he was in too deep now, if he owned up to it now then that would means he’s wrong and Suguru Geto he never been wrong. well, not if you ever asked him.

“this wouldn’t have happened if you had just left.”

“it’s my night Geto, you knew that!”

“yeah well i needed the practice.”

“what the fuck did you think i needed?”

“come on, we both know which one of us is more important here.” you were pissing him off, he was deflecting.

“you can’t be serious.”

“i am. nobody takes you fucking serious, nobody cares about watching you parade around on the rink in your small little fucking skirts.” you looked up to the ceiling and nodded your head.

“right.” you turned away from him. “you’re right.” you walked away, he heard you go into the locker room and he went back to the ice. eventually he heard the front doors open and close.

----------------

for the next three weeks he had not seen you come into your wednesday practices. he purposely came to the ones he knew you would be at but you had never showed up. he would wait until closing time, staying until the custodial staff would kick him out, you never appeared. he noticed you were in and out of your classes as well. you had the same classes together everyday, civics and economics, some days you would be there but have your head down and constantly checked your phone. other days you weren’t there at all. he had asked your professors if he could have your papers, to make sure you were getting them but each of them had replied that you didn’t need them, you were all caught up.

you didn’t come to your teams practices either, luckily you had always taught them the drills you came up with way beforehand. if Suguru had ever cared to look deeper into who you are (which he’d never admit that he did) he would maybe, possibly, just maybe own up to the fact that he might admire the way you carried yourself. you’re a great captain, an amazing skater, and an even better student. you’re just up there with him and Satoru. he’ll never tell you that though. he oftentimes wondered what you thought about him. did you think he was smart? a good skater? do you think he’s attractive? he wants to know if you think of him the way he thinks of you. he’ll never ask.

eventually you came back. two more weeks of not being there, then, he saw you again. you were in class, back at practice, running drills and laughing with your friends. but he noticed something different, you were more reserved, if you weren’t with your friends you weren’t with anyone at all. your smile didn’t reach your eyes like it usually did. after practice you left immediately, not waiting for everyone to leave like you usually did. you were out of the door before anybody could say bye. you weren’t you. Suguru looked after you, even if you weren’t aware, he did. he made sure when him and Satoru picked on you they never went too far. when he heard other guys on the team talk about you, he shut it down almost immediately. Suguru cared, he’d never outright show it or tell you but he did.

even now that you’re back you still weren’t coming to your wednesday practices. at some point he stopped going for “practice” and would wait for you to walk through the doors. you never did. he got around to asking one of your teammates, Yari, where you had been. she told him you found a new rink, a better one. apparently you knew the manager well and he would give you the space for two nights a week. she had said you lucked out, the rink was spacious and had more to offer. Suguru thanked Yari by finger-fucking her in the back office. she walked out dazed with a blissed out smile on her face while he sat… disgusted. he didn’t even like her. he didn’t like a lot of the girls he slept with, he just did. building up a reputation of one of the best fucks on campus, besides Satoru of course.

he’s always wanted one girl. he’s always wanted you but you’ve never paid him any mind. around campus he’s heard about you, the boyfriend you had in junior year, how much he hurt you and how you swore off relationships after. choosing to focus on school like you had promised yourself you would once entering the university. Suguru had a girlfriend, plenty of them. they never lasted, he couldn’t stay tied down to one girl. eyes always wandering. he broke up with them before it got too serious. he liked them enough to get with them just… not enough to stay.

walking into class you were heading to, looking at your phone checking your grandfather's location to make sure he was home like you told him to be. stopping in your tracks when you came across big black combat boots. looking up he had an all black outfit to match, like usual. his hair was down in a low bun, some strands framing his face. rolling your eyes and breathing out a sigh as you looked at him.

“what do you want?” sitting up in his - your - seat he sat down his pencil on the desk.

“you weren’t here.” he shrugged.

“so you took my seat?” he could see the annoyance bleeding onto your face.

“it’s not like you were here to stop me.” you just looked at him like he was stupid.

“fine.” moving away and three rows behind him, you plopped down into a random desk. he grabbed all his stuff and took up the desk next to you. you looked at him before looking away and to the window. your leg started bouncing up and down. “you just don’t give up do you?”

“give up what?”

“what do you want, Geto?” you turned towards him. “what do you want? you want me to cry again? you want me to grovel?”

“no. i just-”

“then what?”

“i was gonna say sorry but never-fucking-mind.”

“you were gonna say sorry?” you laughed in his face. “that’s a good joke, Geto.” for some reason that got on his nerves.

“what? i can’t apologize?”

“it’s not that you can’t. you don’t.” you’re right. “i don’t care anyway. so even if you do, it doesn’t matter.” he didn’t know what to say so for the rest of class he sat in silence. when the bell rang you packed your things up and left quickly. it was the last class of the day and he watched the direction you went in, he knew where you were headed so he followed. when you walked into the rink it was completely empty. you stopped in your tracks.

“all practices were canceled today.”

“you’re telling me now?”

“you didn’t get the email?”

“obviously not, Geto.” turning to leave you push past him but he grabs your arm. looking up into those brown eyes of his you try to pull away but he grips harder. “can you let go now?”

“why do you act like that?” you look at him confused.

“act like what.”

“like you hate me.”

“maybe cause i do.” you rip away from him, heading to the doors. he quickly catches up and blocks you from leaving. you let out a huff and try to push past him. “move.”

“you don’t hate me.”

“why wouldn’t i?” you look up at him. “hm? you make fun of my uniforms. you always say my drills suck. you and Satoru make fun of my team and my sport. you comment on the way i skate. hell, you broke my skates. skates i can’t get back. so why wouldn’t i?”

“hate isn’t in your vocabulary.” he states, simply. he’s right, it’s not but would you let him know that?

“yeah? how would you know?” he stared at you, questioning whether you did hate him or not. you were right, how would he know? pulling away from him you turn towards the locker rooms, if practice was canceled here today you would go somewhere else. he watched you for a second, contemplating leaving before he followed after you quickly. grabbing your things from your locker you watched him walk into the women’s locker room. “you’re not supposed to be in here-” he rushed over to you and before you could finish your sentence, his lips covered yours. his kiss was rough, lips moving over yours hurriedly, teeth gnawing at your bottom lip. your arms stayed at your side and your eyes were wide. you pushed him away, making space between your bodies. “what is wrong with you?” you were panting, chest rising and falling quickly.

he moved in again, lips back on yours, this time you didn’t pull away. your bag fell off your shoulders and your new skates fell to the ground. your lips met his harshly, your fingers tangling in his hair. you pulled him down towards you, hunching him over. his hands slid around your waist to grip onto your shirt. he pushed you back into the lockers, the metal clanging as your body met them, he quickly spun you around, your torso pressing into the metal. he sucked on your ear and trailed wet kisses down your neck, the metal ball of his tongue piercing trailing down your skin. he panted into your skin as he ground his hardening cock on your ass.

“if you’re gonna fuck me Geto, get it over with.” you breathed. his hand wrapped around your neck, arching your back and resting your head against his shoulder.

“is that how you should talk to me? i’ll leave you right here.”

“your loss.” you shrugged, pushing him away to grab your things. before you could stray too far he pushed you back against the lockers. he made quick work of unbuttoning his pants and tugging them down just below his dick then, he pulled down your sweatpants, they pooled around your ankles. he ground his cock into your backside and groaned into your neck. his precum dripped on your back as he humped your ass. “hurry up.” you grumbled. sliding his tip through your folds, he pressed into your hole, sliding in only the tip before slipping back out. he did this over and over again until you were huffing in annoyance.

behind you, his face was beet red. he was panting, teasing you and himself in hopes of dragging this out for as long as he possibly could. finally over it, you stamped your foot down, ready to completely push him off of you. he didn’t give you the chance, stuffing his cock all the way into you at once, shuffling forward to press his entire body into yours. you yelped out as his entire length throbbed in you, shaping your ways to accommodate for every ridge and vein. he’s the biggest you’ve ever taken, so thick you’re sure your walls are stretched to the fullest and so long you could feel him in your throat.

“oh, fuck.” he moaned behind you. his heart was pounding in over-exertion. he was focusing so hard on trying not to cum so soon. he gave you time to adjust and time for himself to calm down before he busted before he even started. he groaned into your neck as you clenched around him, trying to get used to his girth.

“fuck, move.”

“you sure?”

“please, come on, just move Geto.” he nodded his head. giving one exploratory thrust, trying to gauge how you feel, how he'd feel. he moaned as his cock moved in and out of you. he could already feel the coil winding up within his lower stomach, he wasn’t gonna last. he thrust again, a whimper escaping his lips. your eyebrows raised at the noise. he whimpered. he started to develop a rhythm, hips moving languidly against yours. his hands moved up your body, gripping your boobs through your shirt, you’re not wearing a bra. he pinched your nipples through your shirt and a noise escaped your lips. the prettiest moan fell from your lips.

he angled his hips differently and he hit that certain spot in you just right. a louder moan exited your mouth and he whimpered at it. your moans are so pretty, so pretty they made his dick throb. little “ah, ah, ah’s” left your lips at each thrust, everything about him took over your entire being. all you could feel was his hands on your body, all you could smell was his cedarwood and vanilla cologne. you were drowning in him, every sense revolved around him. Suguru couldn’t feel anything else besides your tight walls gripping him. you were so tight around him his eyes rolled back. he’d never been so vocal before, let alone whined to a girl he was fucking.

you brought something in him, something he didn’t know existed. a need. a need for him to express how good you’re making him feel. “faster.” he shook his head against your shoulder. “come on, Geto, faster.”

“i can’t, fuck,” he whined. “i’ll cum, i’ll fucking cum and it’ll all be over.”

“already?” you moaned out a scoff. “i’m not even close, Geto.” he thrust into you faster. his length continuously brushing over you g-spot. one hand that was gripping your boob moved down to rub circles over your clit. his fingers were nimble and quick but messy. the circles are uncoordinated but good enough to make your thighs shake. you're so wet it's dripping down your thighs and getting on his, his hand is soaked now.

“stop calling me that.” he whined. “say my name.”

“that is your name-”

“no. my name please.” he sounded so pretty whining for you.

“Suguru.” he moaned. “i’m gonna cum, Suguru.” you were the one whining now.

“please.” he rubbed your clit faster, hurriedly thrusting into you. you met him thrust for thrust, moving with him. “fuck, just like that, princess.” the claps of skin on skin could be heard throughout the locker room. you pray to whatever God out there that no one is here. “i’m gonna cum, i need you to first.” he licked a stripe up your neck, leading to your ear before he bit at your lobe. his nose pressed into your ear and he panted into your skin, harsh breaths against you. all the stimulation was getting to you, his fingers rubbing at your clit, his other hand grabbing your boob, his mouth breathing heavily against you and biting at you. the final straw was when he moved his hand from your chest to your neck, squeezing slightly, just enough to make your breathing labored and make you dizzy. your head fell to his shoulder and you dear damn screamed out as you came.

your thighs shook violently as you creamed around Suguru. the essence of your orgasm dripping down his cock. his mouth dropped open as he felt you clench and unclench around him. he moaned out as he felt his own orgasm creeping up on him. “pull out.” you whimpered. “Suguru, pull out.” he didn’t want to, God, he didn’t want to. finally building up enough strength, he pulled out. his hand wrapped around his tip, jerking his cock quickly, your wetness helping his hand glide smoothly up and down his skin. the first spurt of his cum landed on your back, the warm fluid dripped down your back. the rest came and he moaned with each one. his chest heaved as he came, possibly the hardest he has since his first time, maybe better than that. there was so much of it too, long thick strings painted on your back. he removed his grip from his dick and ran his thumb through the small puddle on your back, smearing it across your skin.

“that was…” he huffed out a breath, smiling up at the roof.

“yeah, let’s not talk about it.” you were quick to pull up your pants.

“what?” Suguru followed after, pulling up his pants, buttoning them, and buckling his belt. “i thought- i thought it was good. you thought it was good right?” you gathered all your things and headed to the door.

“it was fine.”

“just fine?” you were rushing to the front door. “come on, it was more than just fine. Y/N, look at me.” you kept going, not sparing him a glance. “come on.” he reached out for you, grabbing your shoulder and turning you to him. “look at me.”

“for what?!” you yelled at him. “for what? it happened. you can go brag about it.”

“you think i’m gonna brag about it?”

“that’s what you do, Geto. you fuck some girl and go tell the team about it or some boy in your frat. next thing you know the whole school knows about it and that girls just some whore. i’ve gone this fucking long without being caught up in this shit and you corner me once now i’m one of them.” tears built up in your eyes. “at least give me the courtesy of not saying my name.” you walked away from him, leaving him to stand alone, stunned.

----------------

Geto didn’t tell anyone. it’s been two weeks and he hasn’t muttered a single word about what happened in the rink. he didn’t even tell Satoru, the only person in the world he tells everything. ever since it happened you wouldn’t even look at him. if he caught your eyes you would immediately cast yours down. you went back to avoiding him and he hated it, he fucked up. he still can’t explain what came over him that night, he doesn’t know why it happened but he can’t take it back now. he thought it would open the door for something, some way in for him. it didn’t.

one of your friends, Reí, had noticed something was up with you. you were quieter, there was this awkward air to you. she approached you one day when you were leaving class.

“hey, what’s up with you?” you were heading to the quad, it was lunch time and you had some extra work you’d like to get done, you figured fresh air would be good for you.

“nothings up with me.” you chuckled awkwardly. you took a seat on a bench under a shady tree. the sky was a little muted today, the fall season in full effect, it wasn’t a bright day like it usually would be. the sky not a bright blue and the sun not shining as much as it would. it seemed as though the earth was reflecting your mood.

“come on, Y/N/N, be honest with me.” she laughed. “what’s up?” you huffed a bit as you looked over your campus. a gust of wind blew past you, blowing your hair over your shoulder.

“i fucked up.” you whispered.

“you? you never fuck up.” Reí tried to joke.

“i did, i do. i- i don’t know.” you began to pick at your nails.

“what happened?” you sighed before turning to look her in her eyes.

“there’s this guy.”

“a guy?”

“yeah.”

“so… what about this guy? do you like him? is that it, you like a guy?”

“no. i don’t like this guy, that’s the problem.”

“well Y/N/N, i don’t think it’s that much of a problem. you don’t like him, it can’t be that serious. right?”

“we fucked.”

“oh!”

“we fucked and i don’t know what to do.” you sobbed, tears running down your face. Reí moved closer and pulled you into a hug, her arms wrapping around you and petting your hair. she shushed you as you cried into her neck. “i don’t do that type of thing and- and ever since J i haven’t done anything and then this one guy comes out of nowhere and just fucks it all up!”

“it’s ok, we all have flings in college, it’s cool.”

“no! it’s not just a fling, Reí, i hate this guy.” your sentences came out in broken sobs. “that was never supposed to happen and now when everyone finds out they’re gonna think i’m some slut for letting it happen.” you pulled back to look at her, your lower lip trembling as you spoke.

“why would anybody think that?” she tucked pieces of your hair behind your ear and wiped your tears.

“cause that’s what everybody thinks.” you looked down and played with your hands. “everyone here thinks all the girls here who have sex are nasty.” you looked back up to her. “i don’t wanna be nasty.” you pouted.

“aww, baby, no one’s gonna think you’re nasty.”

“yes they will.” you nodded at her. “you should’ve heard what they said when me and J broke up. he told them what we did. he told them i let him take my virginity and everyone called me really mean names.” you swallowed harshly. “it took months for everyone to forget about that, until the next thing happened everyone was so mean. i didn’t even do anything! i thought i was just being a good girlfriend.”

“what do you mean?” she gave you a puzzled look.

“J wanted to have sex.” you looked into her eyes. “i told him i wasn’t ready but he told me everyone else was doing it. he said that we should too and i’d be the best girlfriend. i didn’t even know what i was supposed to do.”

“Y/N/N he didn’t… did he?”

“no. i told him it was ok but i regretted it after. he got mad i didn’t wanna do anything anymore so he broke up with me.” another tear trailed down your face. “he told almost everyone. all the girls laughed at me and all they guys called me a prude. said i wasn’t even worth it.”

“he was a dick, Y/N/N. he wasn’t worth it and i’m so sorry that happened.” you shrugged at her. “but, what does this have to do with this guy?” she tilted her head, her pretty brown hair falling over her shoulder.

“cause he’s a dick too. he’s a dick and i know he’s gonna tell everyone.”

“how long ago was it?”

“like… two weeks ago?”

“well, i haven’t heard anything and y’know, most guys wouldn’t wait two weeks to start telling everyone who he fucked, right?”

“i guess.”

“look, i know this is a lot to think about, how about we get your mind off it. let’s go get some lunch, on me?” she was hopeful, she didn’t want to watch you sulk, you’re one of the best and brightest people she knows. you shook your head.

“i have some stuff to do.” you whispered.

“ok. fine, ok. you want me to sit with you?”

“no. i wanna be alone if that’s ok.”

“sure. just- just let me know if you need anything, yeah? i’m always here.” you gave her a nod and she leant down to give you a peck on the forehead before she walked away. she’d always been a good friend to you. looking back out to the campus, you saw his familiar black hair, in a half up half down style now. he walked with some girl - Yari, from your team - he was walking her to the science building and once they reached the front doors, she turned around and smiled at him. they spoke for a bit before he grabbed her by her chin, pulling her to him and planting a kiss on her lips. once he let go she looked up to him, her eyes sparkling.

your heart clenched.

getting up and gathering your things you stormed off and towards your dorm. retreating there for the rest of the day.

Suguru didn’t mean to get involved with Yari. really, it just… happened. he was upset about the situation between you two and she just so happened to be there. the only reason he’s stayed talking to her for this long is because in some way, she reminds him of you. the way her eyes light up when she looks at him, as if he’s hung the moon and the stars, it reminds him of how you used to look at him way back when. before he fucked you over. before he was so mean to you, how your eyes would shine when you looked at him. if he squinted just enough when looking at her, he could see you. ever since that night in the rink, he’s only wanted to see you. to feel you again, to hold you. his hands have been itching to grab for you whenever you two cross paths. not having you is like living hell. he hates it.

finally leaving Yari, he turns around to head to his own class. making his way across the quad he sees a figure hurriedly walking in some direction. when he looks over at it, he recognizes it’s you. he wants to follow you, so bad. but he knows he shouldn’t, if he did you’d probably have his head on a stake.

----------------

another week had passed before you started feeling somewhat like yourself again. Reí had decided to take you out a couple of days ago. she took you to the diner not too far off campus, you two talked over milkshakes and french fries. she didn’t pry too much but talking to her made you feel like you had a weight lifted off your chest. it felt great. practice was canceled again today, something about one of the coaches having a family emergency, so the rink was free for the day.

you decided to take it over for the night. one of the custodians told you no one was coming in tonight so you were free to have it. you were trying to get one specific move down, the same one you’ve been trying to learn since freshman year. it was a move all hockey players used. a hockey stop, simple yet, you’d once seen Suguru spin and come to a full hockey stop. you’d wondered how he did it. while your sports were similar there was a clear difference between them. figure skaters were gentle with their movements and it took more agility to follow through with them. hockey players were more aggressive. hockey was about defense and brutality, the players were more up-front and they lacked flexibility.

while you were a figure skater, you did appreciate hockey and had taken a liking to practicing their moves. you’d even introduced some into the choreography of your team, giving some contrast to the ensemble. the harshness of the hockey moves plus the gentleness of figure skating make for a beautiful scene. you’ve mastered the hockey stop, it’s an easy move but when you had watched Suguru do a complete 360 and come to the stop it was something you had wanted to do as well. while you’d seen him do it years ago it never really left your head and with the new choreography you were coming up with, you wanted to include the move.

you were getting closer, you think. well, it was better than before. at first you had completely busted your ass, sliding along the ice and hurting your chin. now most times when you fell, you went down slower. able to catch yourself before you fell on your ass again. as you were practicing you fell again, sitting down and huffing out a breath. the ice nipped at your legs through your tights and you sat for a second, looking up at the roof before looking down to play with your hands. what you hadn’t noticed was a guest within the seats, watching you as you tried to ace the move over, and over again.

“you’re putting too much weight on your back foot.” your head shot around quickly, turning to face the booming voice. you rolled your eyes when you looked at him. there he stood, 6 '2'' stature wearing all black, his arms at his side and his jet black hair falling over his wide shoulders.

“can you just go away?”

“can i help you?” the question was genuine, he wanted to help. and maybe spend time with you.

“no.”

“why not?”

“cause i don’t want your help.” you deadpanned. Suguru got up and walked away, you thanked God he chose to adhere to your request. getting back up, you went to the other side of the rink, skating yourself across the ice. you turned backwards and put your left leg out, turning into a camel spin, both your arms placed straight out to your sides. bringing your leg back down for an upright spin, putting an abrupt stop to the turn you jut out your right leg for the hockey stop. just as you thought you had gotten it, you fell back onto your palms. sitting back down and heaving out another sigh, you were ready to give up for the day. just as you were ready to go, you heard the doors to the rink being opened. you turned to see Suguru walking onto the ice. falling out and splaying yourself along the ice you groaned quite dramatically.

“get up.” he stood over you.

“i told you to go away.” you looked to him, one eye closed as the light shined in it.

“i told you i was going to help.”

“i don’t need your help. i’m done.” you sat up, getting on your knees to stand up fully. Suguru grabbed your arm pulling you up and into him. “can you get off of me?” instead of responding, he started skating to the opposite side of the rink, dragging you along with him. once you reached the corner, he let go.

“show me.” he gestured to the rink.

“yeah, i’d rather not.” you were going to walk away but he grabbed you and turned you towards the open space of the rink.

“you want to get it down right? show me.” his voice was soft as he spoke to you. you contemplated for a second. you could leave and go home or you could get help from the person who inspired the move. going home seemed like a really good option. getting into position, you started skating before doing just as you had done before, camel into an upright spin and full hockey stop. once again tipping over and landing on your ass. “like i said, you’re putting too much weight on your back foot, that’s why you keep falling back. and you can’t just stop, it’s too much force, you need to build up some sort of momentum so there’s something to combat the weight of your body.” his arms were crossed over his chest as he spoke to you, muscles bulging even through his black shirt. you were staring at the veins in his hands before you quickly brought your eyes up to his then looked away.

“sure.” taking up your spot next to him you did as he said, once again a camel into an upright spinning and once your right foot met the ice again, you gave yourself a slight push before coming into the hockey stop. this time you didn’t fall onto your ass, landing on one of your knees instead. slightly better.

“you’re not compensating enough for your own weight, look.” Suguru started his own skate and turned into a spin, not exactly an upright one but close enough. as the turn came to a close, he pushed himself forward again, quite harshly, before stopping. “see, you need a counter for yourself. just stopping isn’t enough to carry you. now you do it.” this time when you did it, following through with an extra push, you didn’t fall. instead you had tripped forward and bumped into the wall. “now you’re putting too much weight on your front foot. you need to find a balance. do we have to run first year training drills?”

“i’m not some freshman, Geto. i know what i’m doing.” you snapped.

“do you?” you stared at him quizzically before giving up.

“nevermind. i’m done.” walking away you headed to the door.

“wait.” you paused. “i- i don’t mean to be rude or anything. i’m actually trying to help.”

“you think you’re gonna help by demeaning my skill set? i’m captain for a reason.”

“i’m not trying to. i’m captain too, remember?”

“we play two different sports.”

“yeah, and you’re trying to perfect one of my moves. let me help you.”

“i can do it by myself.” you turned to face him.

“i’m not saying you can’t. but i know it pretty well and i can show you how to do it.” you stared at him blankly. “listen, if… if i help you get this right, you can teach me some moves from your team.” that got your attention.

“really?”

“yeah.” you slowly skated to him.

“ok.” for the next hour, Suguru had shown you how to incorporate a hockey stop into your routine. you had finally gotten to a point where you didn’t fall at all. the move could use a little work but it was way better than what you had before. once you had finally gotten it, you were so excited you jumped with glee, somehow making your way into Sugurus arms. his large arms had wrapped around you as you hugged him. when you noticed where you were, you immediately backed out of his embrace.

“sorry.”

“it’s fine.” you began to slowly skate backwards.

“i should go now, it’s pretty late.” your voice came out quietly and you pointed behind you. Suguru began to skate toward you.

“or, we can stay, practice a little longer?”

“i- um, i don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“why not?” he was in front of you. you had skated yourself so far back and somehow, into a wall.

“cause.”

“because?” there’s a small space left between your bodies and Suguru had reached forward, pulling you into him, he leaned down, inching his face closer to yours. “because what?” he whispered against your lips.

“cause- um,” he pressed himself closer to you, torso to torso. “cause-” you didn’t get to finish your sentence as he gently pressed his lips to yours. you sighed into his mouth as your lips met. you wrapped your arms around his neck, falling into him as you breathed him in. he deepened the kiss, parting your lips with his own and sliding his tongue against yours. you moaned into his mouth and he groaned against yours. suddenly, reality hit you and you pulled away. “what is wrong with you?”

“huh?”

“don’t act dumb, Geto, oh my God. i- i can’t.”

“can’t what?” you pressed a hand to your forehead and began to skate away.

“what are you gonna tell your girlfriend?”

“girlfriend? i- i don’t-”

“what?” you turned back to him. “she doesn’t have to know? don’t give me that.”

“Y/N, what fucking girlfriend are you talking about.”

“Yari!” you exhaled, exasperated.

“Yari’s not my girlfriend.”

“so you’ve been doing this with her too? what, you fucked her in the locker room like you did me? does your girlfriend know about her-”

“i don’t have a girlfriend!” he yelled over you.

“then why do i always see you with Yari?!”

“see me with her? i’m never with her.”

“yes you are, Suguru! you’re always with her! i see you parading around campus with her, walking her to class, sitting out on the quad with her. she- she comes to practice talking about you.” you began picking at your nails.

“i-” he didn’t know what to say, you’re right, he’s always with her. it’s not his choice, she just follows him around everywhere. he told her to leave him alone last week but she swore they had something special, that she loved him and knew he loved her too. talk about delusional.

“so i’m right?” you scoffed. deciding to exit from the conversation, you began to skate to the exit. Suguru quickly caught up, grabbing your hand, he turned you to him.

“you’re wrong.” you just stared at him, a glazed over look in your eye. “she’s not my girlfriend. yeah, ok, we did something but that was it. i fucked with her for a while but i told her i didn’t like her, she just- she won’t leave me alone. i don’t have a girlfriend, at all. i don’t want one.”

“so what’s this supposed to be?” you gestured between the two of you with your free hand.

“i didn’t mean it like that.”

“then what did you mean?”

“Satoru’s having a thing tomorrow night,”

“i don’t do parties.”

“it’s not a party,” he rushed out. “Satoru said it’s just a little get together with some friends. can you stop by? maybe we can talk then?” you wanted to say no, there’s nothing to talk about but your mind didn’t have time to catch up with your body. you were nodding your head before a word could be muttered. “ok.” he let go of your hand, it was then that you realized your fingers were intertwined.

when you finally got back to your room that night, you screamed into a pillow. every pent up emotion that was building inside of you from spending so much time with Suguru escaping as you yelled. you couldn’t believe you let him get to you, again. and you can’t believe you agreed to meet him tomorrow night. what was wrong with you.

----------------

the next day flew by, your classes went by smoothly, Suguru staring at you from across the room in the ones you had together. practice was a little rushed, it was a friday and a break was coming up, everyone was excited to get out. now you sat in your dorm, staring at your phone as the time ticked by. it was 7:23, Suguru never gave you a time to show up. what time were you supposed to come? were you already late? would he be mad? you sat for another hour, finally leaving the comfort of your room and heading across campus to the frat house.

walking up to the house, lights were flashing and music was booming. people were sitting outside, all huddled up because of the cold, passing around a blunt. “so much for a ‘small get together.’” you muttered to yourself. approaching the front door, you walked in and were immediately hit with the smell of a college party. sweaty bodies jumped and rubbed against each other, others were making out somewhere in a corner. looking over the area, you tried to spot his tall stature and black hair. when you didn’t see him you moved into the crowd. walking through the people and moving to the kitchen, you grabbed a water bottle before going back to searching around. after searching for a while, you gave up, finding one of his frat brothers instead. “have you seen Suguru?” he looked you up and down before responding.

“you that crazy bitch?”

“huh?”

“you that crazy bitch?” he said, more pointedly.

“what crazy bitch?”

“what’s her name? um, she’s on the figure team.”

“Yari?”

“yeah! that’s you?”

“i’m not Yari.” he squinted his eyes before shrugging.

“upstairs, second door to the left. knock.” that’s all he said before turning to walk over to a group of girls, they all looked at you weird before he approached them. going up the stairs, you almost made it to the top before you saw him. his broad stature leaned against a wall, hair tied back in a bun, his arms crossed over his chest as he spoke. he sat talking to some girl, eyes hooded as he looked at her, a smirk on his face. you stared at the two, her short brown hair falling to one side as she tilted her head. walking back down the steps, especially quiet so they wouldn’t hear you, you headed back to the kitchen. you leaned against the counter, gripping the sides. ok, if he wants to be all over every girl, you can be all over every guy.

stomping out of the kitchen you looked around before making your way to the makeshift dance floor. you slipped in between the bodies, finding your way to the middle. settling into the people grinding on each other, you tapped the shoulder of some random guy, Haibara his name is, another brother of the frat, you asked if he wanted to dance. he looked between you and the girl he was dancing with before completely turning to you, letting out and enthusiastic, “sure!” you heard the girl mutter something before she walked away angrily. turning around, you pulled the boy closer to you, pressing your ass to his crotch, you heard a stuttered breath escape his lips.

you placed his hands on your hips and swayed slowly, grinding against him to the beat of the song. you saw Suguru make his way down the steps slowly, one arm hanging over the shoulder of the girl, they laughed together loudly. out of spite, you dragged one of Haibara's hands up your body slowly. his breathing grew heavier behind you. you knew he was shy, one of the more reserved brothers of the frat. he only joined because Satoru and Suguru made Nanami join and by association, him. you felt bad, you weren’t sure what he was comfortable with and here you were making him feel you up. he didn’t seem to care though, pulling you closer and laying his forehead on your shoulder. Suguru saw you from across the room, eyes locking onto you and the figure behind you. you saw him whisper something in the girl's ear and she looked over too, she gestured to you and Haibara, Suguru kissed her forehead quickly and let go.

he quickly made his way over to you two. when he reached you, he grabbed your forearm and pulled you away from the brunette boy. “hey- oh! what’s up Suguru.” Haibara smiled.

“nothing.” he dragged you along with him as he walked away, taking you to the steps.

“let go of me.” you tried to pull away but his grip grew more firm. “Suguru let go-” he spun you around when you reached the first step pushing you up against the wall. people around stared for a while before going back to minding their business.

“Haibara?” he questioned, his nostril flaring as he breathed.

“what?”

“i come downstairs cause someone told me you’re looking for me and i catch you fucking with Haibara?”

“why does it matter?” you rolled your eyes.

“cause it fucking does.”

“but it doesn’t matter when it’s you though, right?”

“what are you talking about.”

“i go upstairs to find you and i see you laughing and giggling with some girl? the same thing with Yari. it’s cool when you do it, right?”

“some girl?” he stared at you for a second before he started laughing.

“what’s so funny?” he continued to laugh, damn near hunched over now.

“aww, princess.” he stood back up, you glared at him. “you jealous?”

“jealous?” you said incredulously. “why would i be jealous of anything you do?”

“that was Ieiri, princess, my best friend.”

“oh…”

“yeah and i told you i don’t like Yari.”

“you don’t act like it.” was your quick reply.

“ok.” he stepped back. “go upstairs.”

“for?” he stepped back into your personal space.

“go upstairs, when i get up there i want you sitting down in just that pretty little set i know you have on for me.” he whispered in your ear. your face felt like it was on fire.

“i- i don’t have on a set.”

“i know you do, princess.” he walked away, going to the kitchen, before he passed the threshold he looked back to you, raising his eyebrow at you. you turned around and walked up the steps, going straight to his room. once you entered, you contemplated for a second, would you really do this? yes. you took off your shirt first, letting it fall to the floor, you fixed the cups of your pretty bra before unbuttoning your pants. you let them pool around your ankles before kicking them off. you sat on the bed, tucking your legs under yourself and placing your hands on your knees. you sat there for maybe two minutes picking at your thumbs. the door opened and you jumped a bit.

Suguru entered with two water bottles in his hands and something wrapped up. he smiled when he saw you sitting so prettily on his bed. you stood out against his dark sheets. the bright pale blue and pinks of your lingerie contrasting with his dark gray bedspread. “you look so pretty like that.” he sat the things in his hands down and walked over to you, cupping his hand under your chin and tilting your head up. he ran the pad of his thumb along your bottom lip, pulling it down and then letting it pop back up into place. he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your lips, it quickly grew messy, “open.” he murmured against your lips. you parted your lips, looking up to him with wide eyes. he let a glob of spit from his mouth fall into yours. “swallow.” he watched your throat bob up and down, you could taste the fruit punch he drank earlier. he tasted sweet. “sit back and spread your legs for me.” you looked up at him as he stood back up, leaning himself against his dresser. “you gonna do it or do i have to make you?”

you crawled up to his headboard slowly on all fours, he watched you, his cock twitching in his pants as he watched you ass sway side to side. he cleared his throat as you settled against his pillows. you spread your legs for him, watching him from across the room. “what do you want me to do?” you asked in a whisper.

“i want you to fuck yourself on you fingers like you do when you think of me.”

“i-”

“what?”

“i don’t think of you.”

“come on, princess, we both know you do. why else would you get your panties in a twist when you see me with another girl?” you sighed, looking down at yourself. “pull those pretty little panties to the side and spread yourself open on your fingers.”

“ok.” you whispered. your fingers twitched nervously, not sure what to do with him staring at you.

“just pretend i’m not here, pretty girl, it’s ok.” you nodded your head. everything around you was so irrecoverably him, the sheets were soft against him and smelled like him, so warm. if you focused hard enough you could hear his breathing from across the room. closing your eyes you began to slowly trail your fingers down your body, hyper aware of your own touch. you dragged your fingers back up your stomach and to your chest, cupping your boobs through your bra. “take it off.” you obliged, quickly unclipping the offending garment and letting it fall off the side of the bed. “fuck.” you could hear the sound of a zipper and some shuffling. pinching your nipples you let out a soft sound, tweaking both of them between your thumb and forefinger. letting one hand trail down your body again, you dragged it down and began to run circles over your clit on top of your underwear.

“Suguru.” you moaned softly. he groaned at the noise. you slipped your hand into your underwear, the stimulation sent sparks up your spine. dragging your fingers down to your hole, you circled it before slipping your middle finger in. you could hear a wet noise coming from where he is and the idea of him pulling on his cock to your fingering yourself pulled a moan out of you. slipping another finger into yourself, you moved them faster, the pads of them rubbing against your walls.

“go faster. wanna hear it.” he panted. wanted to hear it..? oh. oh. he wanted to hear the sound of your wetness as you fucked yourself. your back arched as you fucked yourself faster. your other hand continued to tweak at your nipple. you moaned out as you felt your stomach clench.

“Suguru! i’m gonna cum!” your toes curled and you whimpered. you could hear his stuttered breathing and he jerked himself off.

“let me see, pull your panties down.” he panted. your hand quickly moved to tug the gusset of your panties to the side. Suguru watched your fingers move in and out of you. his dream was finally coming true, the one girl he wanted was splayed out on his bed, fucking herself on her fingers, moaning out his name. his orgasm was building up quickly, he was going to bust everywhere from just watching you. you clenched around your fingers, mouth dropping open as you orgasm washed over you. you arched off the bed, moaning Sugurus name over and over again. he watched as you came, the way your essence dripped around and seeped through your fingers, how your chest raised and fell as you breathed heavily. Suguru groaned as he played with his tip, thumb running over it and you looked at him when you heard the noise.

“Sugu,” you whined. “wanna see you cum,” his jaw dropped and a small noise escaped his lips. “please.” he came all over his hand and the floor. spurts of his cum falling from his tip and he groaned as he came. you’re gonna be the death of him. once he regrouped, he walked over to you, kneeling above you as he looked into your eyes. he grabbed your hand, bringing it up to his lips and taking the two fingers that were just inside of you and putting them in his mouth. you moaned as he sucked on your fingers and his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

“you taste so good, princess.” your hand fell from his mouth back to your side. “wanna taste for myself, flip over.” you took too long to listen to him so he flipped you over himself. he had you on your hands and knees, back arched for him. he went behind you, watching your pretty pussy drip for him. “fuck.” he whispered to himself. one hand rubbed over your ass as the other pulled your panties down. you kicked them off completely and he sniffed them before dropping them off the bed. “count.”

“huh?” slap! one loud clap against your ass, you yelped out at the initial pain but it eventually turned into a pleasurable stinging sensation.

“count.” he said more firmly.

“one,” slap! “two,” slap! “three…” on and on he spanked you again and again. you counted all the way up to eleven before he let up. your ass stung from the spanking but the line between pleasure and pain was blurred. it hurt so bad it felt good. you whimpered when he circled his hands over your ass. before you could recognize what was going on, you felt a stripe being licked from your clit to your clenching hole. “Sugu!” you looked behind you to see him hunched over, sucking harshly on your clit as he spread your ass. another stripe licked up to your hole before he slipped his tongue in, you clenched around it, the cold metal of his piercing contrasted against the warmth of your walls and you swore you saw heaven. you shook as he fucked you with his tongue, falling onto your front your back arched perfectly for him as you pushed back against him.

the sounds were obscene, you could hear his tongue working against you and him groaning into your pussy. you moaned when he landed another slap to your ass, he gripped and jiggled it against his face. “oh my- fuck!” you squealed. he tongue licked and prodded against your walls as he ate you out. your thighs began to tremble, toes curling as your legs shook. his mouth moved down from your hole to your clit and you felt two of his fingers prodding at your entrance. his thick middle and ring fingers stretched you open he slipped them into you. he sucked on your clit and pressed his long fingers into that one spot inside of you. you whined loudly and he fucked you open on his fingers. “S-Sugu,” you slurred. “Sugu i’m gonna cum..!” you squeaked. he continued to work at you and another orgasm was building up in you. you kicked your feet as you felt your orgasm approaching but this felt different.

the coil in your stomach wound up tighter, you felt a pressure on your bladder and you trembled. you reached behind you blindly, grabbing Sugurus head and tangling your fingers in his hair. you felt him moan against you as you did so. “Sugu s-stop, i’m gonna pee.” you whined. he kept going, he either didn’t hear you or didn’t care but either way, he wasn’t gonna stop. “Sugu, wait!” he sucked harder at your clit and pressed his fingers into your g-spot. your toes curled as your back arched and you screamed out. your eyes rolled to the back of your head and all you saw was white. all you felt was your body shaking and wetness dripping down your thighs. your legs trembled at the earth-shattering orgasm and you whined and trembled at every touch you felt. Suguru moaned and groaned behind you, getting absolutely soaked as you squirted all over him and his bed. “Suguru!” you cried out, your feet kicked as he kept going.

“one more, just give me one more princess, i know you can.” you sobbed as he went back to sucking on your clit. another orgasm was building up quickly, your entire body shook as he sucked and prodded at you.

“Suguru,” you cried out. “i can’t.”

“yes you can, i know you can.” he muttered against you. tears were streaming down your face, you shook and trembled with every pass of his tongue. your one hand gripped his hair as the other gripped the sheets. the next orgasm came quickly and you cried out as it took over your body. his bed was almost completely soaked through because of you. the essence of your orgasm streaked down your thighs. he let go of you, sitting back on his knees and your body relaxed. you fell against the sheets, they stuck against your body because of how soaked they were. he watched you take deep breaths, your body slowly calming down. you could feel some shuffling behind you and hear the sound of fabric ruffling. you felt the weight of the bed shift, Suguru leaned above you, trailing kisses up your spine.

you felt his weight against your back as he laid on top of you. he kissed and licked at your neck, breathing into your ear. he took all his clothes off, he laid completely naked on top of you, his bare chest pressing against your back. you could feel everything, every outline of his abs against your back, you could also feel his cock pressing into your ass. grabbing his dick he ran his tips through your folds, collecting your wetness and smearing it along his cock. he pushed your left leg up, spreading you open for him and lifting your ass up so he could slip in easily. he pressed his tip into you, slowly slipping in your walls. you whimpered as you felt him throb within you. “oh, fuck.” he sighed. “you feel so fucking good.” he moaned, resting his head in your neck. you pushed back against him, pressing your ass flush against. he whined into your neck, “you’re gonna kill me.”

“move, please.”

“i can’t.” you got a flashback to the first night he fucked you. “i’ll cum.”

“please, Sugu. please.” you begged.

“ok.” he nodded, “ok.” he thrusted once and whimpered. he built up a steady rhythm, small noises fell from his lips as he fucked himself into you. “so fuckin’ tight, you’re so fuckin’ tight.” he fucked into you harder, the sounds of skin on skin bouncing off the walls of his room. “so much better than those other girls.” your body jerked and you looked behind you. “don’t worry princess, i’m not saying it to make you jealous.” he chuckled. “never had somebody like you, so fuckin perfect. you’re perfect y’know that?” when you didn’t respond he stopped moving. “answer me.”

“yes daddy!” you whined. his eyes crossed and his cock twitched deep within you, he never thought you were one to call somebody daddy, never took you as the submissive type at all. he leaned down over you.

“good girl.” he groaned into your ear. “good fucking girl.” he started moving again, fucking you deeper. his tip nudged your cervix each time from how deep he was and the pain added to your pleasure. you were damn near fucked dumb, any train of thought you had completely gone, all you could focus on was Suguru fucking you. you tightened around him, your orgasm building up in your lower stomach. “fuck, are you close?” you nodded your head. “you gonna cum for me, princess? make a mess all over me, yeah?” one hand trailed down your body, fingers playing with your clit and pushing you closer to the edge. you gripped the sheets hard, you swore you could hear the seams ripping.

“i’m gonna cum, Sugu!”

“hold it.” you shook your head. “you can hold it for me, i know you can.”

“i can’t, i can’t!” you sobbed. “i can’t, daddy, i’m gonna cum, please let me cum.”

“i said ‘hold it,’ right?” your body tensed up completely, your legs locking around Suguru from behind. before you could stop yourself, you were creaming around him. you cried out as you came, eyes crossing and rolling to the back of your head. you squeezed so tight around him he almost slipped out. he groaned as you clenched around him, his face was completely red, eyes hooded as he watched you cum around him. “i thought i told you to hold it.”

“i couldn’t do it.” you sniffled. “‘m sorry daddy.”

“aww, it’s ok baby.” he tucked some of your hair behind your ear, looking at your face. tears stained your face, mascara running down your cheeks, he smiled at you.

“want you to cum, daddy. want you to cum in me.” he groaned at your words, his cock twitched violently inside of you. he completely covered you, laying on top of you and matching his body up with yours. his arms wrapped around you, pulling you flush against him. he began thrusting into you again, building up a fast pace, chasing his own orgasm.

“i’m gonna cum, right in this pretty little pussy and you’re gonna hold it all inside you. then, you’re gonna walk around the house with it all in you, let everybody know that i did it, let everybody know i’m yours.” let everybody know i'm yours. he wants to kill you. his pace began to falter and he gave a couple of more thrusts before stilling above you. he moaned into your ear, quieting himself by biting your neck. you felt him fill you up, rope after rope of his cum filling you up. you moaned with him, another orgasm taking over your body. Sugurus' body twitched as he came, he sighed out as his orgasm finally passed over him. he relaxed into you, falling on top of you.

“you’re heavy.” he laughed at you, sliding out of you and laying down next to your side. you turned your head to face him, he was already staring at you with a small smile on his face. “what?” your voice was hoarse.

“you’re so pretty,” he said quietly. you looked down before looking back into his eyes.

“thank you.” you whispered. he got up quickly, pulling on his boxer briefs, you sat up, covering yourself with your arms. “where are you going?”

“nowhere.”

“are you leaving?” you asked shyly.

“no, Y/N/N, i’m not leaving.” he walked over to his dresser, grabbing the two water bottles and whatever was wrapped up in the foil. making his way back to the bed, he sat down next to you. “here, drink something, it’ll help your throat.” he opened the water bottle for you. you took it from him and sipped from it slowly. he unwrapped what was in the foil - a sandwich. “eat this.” you took the sandwich from him and ate it. he watched you, he turned over to his nightstand - it was then you noticed the dragon tattoo displayed on his back - he grabbed some wipes and began unpacking them. he wiped the smeared mascara off of your face and wiped some crumbs from the corner of your mouth. “can i?” he gestured to you. you raised an eyebrow at him. “wipe you?”

“oh, you don’t have to.”

“yeah but i want to.”

“ok.” you laid back and opened your legs for him, he got in between them with a new new wipe.

“can you push it out for me?”

“thought you wanted me to keep it all in.”

“just do what i say.” he looked up at you, he looked so good between your legs like this, you’ll have to get him between them like this again.

“yes, daddy.” you rolled your eyes. sighing, you tried your best to squeeze all of his cum out of you. he watched it flow out you in thick globs.

“fuck.” he leaned down, licking at you quickly.

“Sugu!” your thighs closed around his head. “don’t do that. ‘m sensitive.”

“sorry, princess, you just look so good.” he smirked at you. he cleaned you up gently, getting up and searching through his drawers for a shirt and passing you one of his old gray tees. he picked you up and carried you out of the room, you hadn’t even noticed the party had stopped. carrying you to the bathroom and setting you on the sink he grabbed an extra toothbrush and any other thing he thought you would need. “i’m gonna go change the sheets real quick. you can come back to the room when you’re done.” he pecked your lips before exiting the bathroom. you got ready to go to bed, brushing your teeth and washing your face. you dried your hands and left the bathroom. you trekked back into his room, there he sat on the edge of it, scrolling on his phone. he put it down at his side and gestured for you to come over to him. when close enough he grabbed your hips and pulled you to him.

“did you um- did you dry the wet spot?” you asked, embarrassed. his hands rubbed up and down your thighs. your own hands played with the hair at the nape of his neck, his bun was looser now, more hairs framing his face.

“wet spot?” he looked behind him. “oh.” he laughed.

“what’s so funny?” you froze.

“waterproof liner.” you looked at him questioningly. “spilled some shit on my bed once, couldn’t get the stain out so i bought some waterproof liners. do you want to lay down?”

“um, no.”

“why not?”

“cause i should go. y’know, it’s late and i don’t want my roommate-”

“you don’t want to stay here.”

“what? no. that’s not- i’d love to stay.”

“so why don’t you?”

“cause i don’t want you to get tired of me.”

“tired?” you looked down awkwardly.

“i know how this goes, Suguru. i don’t want to stay only to be embarrassed later.”

“i wouldn’t embarrass you-”

“you can’t promise me that.”

“yeah, i can. do you- do you not see how much i care for you?”

“care?”

“i don’t want anybody the way i want you. never have. you make me… you make me feel good.”

“oh-”

“not like that. yeah, you make me feel good.” he chuckled. “but i just, i don’t know, i like the way you look at me.”

“how do i look at you?”

“like you care for me too. i like that. it makes me feel like i mean something.”

“everybody thinks you mean something.” you rubbed at his scalp and he felt shudders down his spine.

“yeah but it’s different. everyone cares cause they think i can do something for them, y’know. it’s fake but when it’s you, it feels right.” your face burned at his words and you looked down shyly.

“oh.” you giggled.

“oh?”

“i didn’t think you liked me like that.”

“why wouldn’t i?”

“cause you’re mean.”

“i am. i’m sorry.”

“you’re sorry?”

“yeah, i just, i didn’t know how to tell you i like you.”

“so you were practically a bully?”

“i guess.” he shrugged and laughed.

“how backwards is that?”

“i’ll have you backwards.” he smirked.

“what does that even mean?!” you laughed.

“wanna find out?”

“huh-” before you could finish, Suguru wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you down to the bed next to him. you fell in a fit of giggles and he laughed along with you, silencing you with a kiss. the rest of the tight was spent with shared laughter, kisses, and fingers tangled together. it felt nice, you weren’t used to this side of him. he fell asleep before you, his head resting on his own pillow while one arm stayed on your stomach. you stared at him, watched his eyes flutter under his lids and the way his lips parted as he breathed. you tucked some hair behind his ear and pressed a kiss to his cheek, snuggling into his side, you let sleep overtake you and it may have been the best sleep you’ve gotten in a while. it just felt right to be in his arms.

----------------

for the next week you were either in Sugurus' room or somewhere out on the town with him. he kept you fed, hydrated, and full of dick. there were marks up and down your body from him, bites, hickeys, scratches, you had them all. all the brothers of his frat gave you a knowing look whenever you left his room, always in one of his shirts. when he took you out, Suguru made sure to always take you to places you’d never been before. which was pretty easy seeing as you spent most of your time cooped up in your dorm or in the rink. you’d found a new favorite diner, they had the best fries and milkshakes. the first time Suguru had watched you dip your fries into your vanilla shake, he stared at you in disgust. you’d forced him to try it, he had a whole fit before you stuffed his mouth with the fries. he shut up after a while and agreed that it wasn’t that bad, he wouldn’t tell you he actually liked it.

eventually Satoru had found out when he just walked into Sugurus room only to find him balls deep inside you. Suguru yelled at him to get out, throwing a shoe at his head. Satoru quickly slammed the door but not before he let out a wolf whistle at the sight. you were mortified, vowing to never show your face to Satoru again. that was in vain as the next morning at breakfast he had walked into the kitchen and stared at you for a while before exiting and making his way back upstairs. Suguru made sure his best friend would never mention it to you again, knowing how embarrassed you felt to be found in such a vulnerable position.

you sat in Sugurus bed scrolling on your phone while his T.V played a random show in the back. he laid next to you asleep, tired from running around from errands all day. he stirred awake, rubbing at his eyes and looking at you. “g’mornin’.”

“Sugu, it’s one p.m.” you snickered.

“oh. good afternoon.”

“hi.” you giggled. “do you wanna-” there was a knock at the door. Suguru went to get up but you grabbed his bicep. “i got it, lay back down.” you went to open the door. turning the knob, a familiar voice broke through the threshold before you could get it all the way open.

“Geto, have you seen Satoru-” Bri paused as she stared at you. “no fucking way.”

“oh. hey Bri.” you chuckled awkwardly.

“you’re such a fucking hypocrite.”

“what?”

“i can’t see Satoru but you can fuck his best friend.” the anger was obvious on her face.

“i didn’t- i don’t-”

“are we fucking serious right now? you’re gonna lie about it. i thought you were a bitch but this is low even for you.”

“i- i never told you you couldn’t see Satoru and we’re not just fucking-”

“just shut up. you practically shouted how much you hated the idea of me and Satoru together. were you jealous? is that what it was? you were mad because i actually had him and you wanted his best friend? when he’s over you next week, don’t come fucking crying to me.” Suguru jumped up from his bed and stormed over to the door.

“watch your fucking mouth when you’re taking to her.” your breathing stuttered and tears built up in your eyes. “no ones fucking jealous of you, i don’t even know why she’s friends with someone like you. Satoru doesn’t fucking like you, he told you that but you keep coming back here cause you think you can change his mind. let me tell you something, no matter how many times you fuck him, it’ll never change.” he stepped closer to her. “all he sees you as is something to nut in, that’s all everybody sees.” her eyes flickered all over his face. “go some fucking where before you embarrass yourself.” he slammed the door in her face and turned around to you. he saw the tears falling down your cheeks and immediately pulled you into him, wrapping his arms around you. “i’m sorry. i don’t know what her problem is, she was out of line.”

“it’s fine. she’s right.” you sniffled out.

“how is she right?” he pulled away from you.

“i am a hypocrite.” you cried. “i told her you and Satoru are dicks and then she finds me with you. it’s wrong.”

“hey, hey.” he cupped your face and made you look up at him. “it’s not wrong, you’re right, me and Satoru are dicks but that doesn’t mean she can just talk to you like that.” you looked down to the floor, closing your eyes. “look at me. she’s the one whose jealous. she’s jealous because she knows Satoru doesn’t like her and you’re here with me. she wants to be you, that’s it. don’t listen to her, ok?”

“ok.” you whimpered.

“how about a nap, yeah. sleep and when you wake up we can get milkshakes and fries.” you nodded and let him pull you down to the bed.

----------------

it took a while for you to cheer up after the situation with Bri. Satoru had stopped talking to her completely after Suguru told him what happened, he’d even apologized for letting it happen when it wasn’t his fault at all. now, you sat on the sides of a rink at a major competition. the TMTC figure skating team had won a spot in a regional competition, schools from four different states were coming to compete and whatever team won got a grant of 7,000 dollars to use to upgrade their schools ice skating rink, an unnecessarily large trophy that sat in a glass case across the rink, and the chance to go to nationals. your team had won the spot at the competition a while ago after winning gold against Kyoto college. while you belonged here, it was proven in the way you participated in the last comp, you were deep in your own head.

you made the team practice non-stop to ace the choreography, making sure everyone was on their a-game. you sat on the bench with your hands on your knees, hands tucked under your chin and one of your knees bouncing up and down. you were nervous, you’d never performed in such a large stadium before, let alone in front of so many people.

Suguru sat in a chair not too far from the rink, close enough to see your features and how nervous you were. he wanted to go out on the ice and hold you, tell you it was ok and he knew you would win because he did. you got this far, you carried your team all the way to this comp, he had no doubt in his mind you would bring gold home. he hoped you knew that as well. your team was up next, two already went before you. it was your time to get ready and you led the team to the locker room. everyone was lacing up their skates in silence, the nerves bouncing off all the girls. once you finished tying your skates you stood in front of them all.

“guys.” you started. “i know i’m not really good at the whole encouraging speech thing but i just wanted you all to know that i’m proud of us. we got all the way here, we made it this far because of our hard work. i don’t want y’all to put too much pressure on yourselves. no matter what we all joined this sport because we love it and it’s fun. we can have fun tonight, don’t let some competitions take the joy out of this. whatever happens tonight, whether we win or we lose, it’s fine. i won’t say i wouldn’t be disappointed if we lost but we got here. we worked our asses off and proved we belong. so when we go out there, i want y’all to show everyone who we are. we’re not just the TMTC figure skating team, we’re girls who all have our own personalities and joined this sport for different reasons. show them that.” everyone clapped and smiled fondly at you, standing up and huddling around. they called for your team on the loud speakers. “alright, this is our time, don’t take it for granted.”

the team left the locker room and you headed out behind them. you all lined up along the ice and waited for your que. the song you had chosen began to play and one by one the line began to disperse. following the choreography you had come up with, the dance started slowly. every girl skated out into a step sequence, their movements following the tempo of the song. the music began to speed up and so did the moves, excluding you there was an even amount of girls on the team, so you paired them in twos. two girls were assigned to each other and executed the choreography together. they did a combination of moves supporting one another. you skated through them, sometimes grabbing onto their waists as they spun around to spin with them, crouching down onto your knees and tucking your head into your shoulders.

the music became louder, the beat progressing and each of your moves becoming harsher, more restricted to display the emotion of the dance. you skated on one leg, through four of the girls, you placed one of your legs down, turning the move onto an upright spin and once you began to spin faster, two sets of hands grabbed your waist stopping you. your turn stopped abruptly, just as you stopped you broke free, skating away from them and towards one wall, just as you reached it, you fell to your knees, turning on them as the rest of the team approached you. they covered your body completely, all of their hands reaching to grab some part of you and just as they moved and light broke through the makeshift cover they made over you, they hoisted you into the air. not too high to the point you’d land dangerously, but enough so you landed and turned, one foot poured out behind you and hands displayed in front of you for balance.

the girls began skating to you quite fast, their moves harsh as they came at you, just before they reached you, they stopped. clasping hands and beginning the next part of the choreo you taught them. while everyone was distracted by their dance, you snuck off into a corner, sitting and waiting for your que. you sat for a minute before your que came up. the girls were lined up once again, like they were when the dance started. they all had their backs turned to you. the music grew again, reaching its crescendo. skating to them, one by one from each row they all turned to you, skating faster and lifting one leg in the air, you held your hands out behind you. bringing that foot back down and jumping, you turned in the air and landed on the opposite foot, now skating backwards, body swaying side to side.

just as you saw the tip of someone’s skate just in your view - strategically placed for you - you brought that leg back down again, pushing yourself forward off the tip of your blade and turning around, you headed for the gap between the girls split directly in the middle. you began to spin again just as you reached the gap some of their hands began reaching for you but stopping the turn, you came to a full hockey stop, falling down into position for a hydroblade. four girls behind you fell dramatically onto another while others began to turn into a sit spin. you laid with your chest pressing against the floor, rising and falling into the ice as you panted. the music stopped abruptly, the rest of the girls falling out of their sitting spins onto the floor as well and for a second all there was was silence. all you could hear was your own breathing before the stadium erupted into loud cheers. claps could be heard all throughout the stadium, whistles and the thumps of people’s boots and sneakers as they jumped.

relaxing and getting up from the ice you turned to the team, everyone was looking around the stadium at all the people clapping for them. from across the arena, Suguru yelled for you. he clapped so hard his hands were red. “that’s my fucking girl!” he goaded, he was so proud of you he felt like his chest could burst. he whooped and yelled for you as you and the team headed back to the locker room. he stood out against everyone else, 6’2” frame wearing all black with jet black hair cheering for some girl on a team wearing a bright pink tutu, it was almost comical. you and the team got undressed in the locker room, all dressed in TMTC tracksuits. you skated back to the rink to sit back on your assigned bench. there are three more teams after you. you had to sit through all of them before the results came in.

the teams after you were so good, you clapped and cheered for them when they finished and it was finally the end of the night. the panelists had called for all teams to come stand in the rink as they announced the winners, the announcements began. people from within the stadium voted on who they wanted to win on the website on their phones, they picked who they thought belonged in first, second and third. the victors for second and third were announced and you let your head hang. you had at least expected third, your performance wasn’t like others, it took a more aggressive approach rather than the usual gentleness of figure skating. maybe you should have stuck to what you knew. preparing for the disappointment of a loss, you began slowly backing away from the team.

“and the first place winner for this year's regional competition is…” silence overtook the audience. “Tokyo Metropolitan Technical College!” you paused, not exactly sure if you heard him right. the crowd broke out in applause, cheers damn near breaking the sound barrier. your team was already at the man with the trophy’s side. they watched you before they all yelled at you to come get your trophy. you skated over to them quickly, Reí held out the trophy for you to grab and as you took it, you fell to your knees. you cried as you held the trophy. the team stood over you, rubbing your back, thanking you for leading them this far. you cried harder.

leaving the large stadium with the large trophy on your hand, everyone behind you was yelling out proudly. some stragglers from the crowd congratulated you as you left. once you got to the parking lot, you saw Suguru leaning against his car. you tried your best to run over to him, placing down the trophy and crashing into him. his arms wrapped around you and lifted you into the air, your feet left the concrete and you wrapped your arms around his neck. “you did it.”

“i did.” you sobbed, so proud of yourself.

“i’m so proud of you. i knew you were gonna win.” you cried into his neck. “you did so good pretty girl, you were the best.”

“you’re just saying that cause you’re fucking me.”

“no.” he placed you down, making you look at him. “that’s not why.”

“then what, Sugu?” he stared at you for a second before he turned around and opened his car door, grabbing something and hiding it strategically so you couldn’t see it. once he turned back to face you his ears were bright red and he huffed out a breath.

“Y/N L/N, will you do me the amazing honor and accept me as your boyfriend?” from behind his back, he pulled a beautiful bouquet of purple and white flowers. your jaw dropped and you looked between him and the flowers. “you gonna answer?”

“yes!” you wrapped your arms around him again. holding him close to you. you pulled back and pressed a messy kiss to his lips, tongues and teeth clashing. “you’re so corny.” you whispered to him.

“what can i say? you bring it out of me.” you laughed together. eventually he led you to the passenger seat, buckling you in and pressing kisses to your face. you stared at him as he got in the car. fondness all over your features, how lucky could you have been?

----------------

two months later you found yourself in the spot where everything started. back in the now improved locker room of your school, lacing up your skates to head to the ice. Suguru was waiting for you outside, sitting down staring out to the floor. approaching him from behind you tapped his shoulder. “come on.”

“what are we doing here?”

“just come on.” you rolled your eyes. grabbing his hands in your own, you began to walk backwards to the ice, watching him watch you. now on the rink you pulled him closer to you, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him towards you.

“what are we doing here?”

“why are you complaining?”

“cause,” he whined. “i wanna go back to my room and watch movies with my favorite person.”

“and who’s your favorite person?”

“Satoru.” he deadpanned, you hit his shoulder.

“be serious.” he let out a hearty laugh.

“ok but what are we doing here? it’s late.”

“you remember that one night you told me if i let you teach me the hockey stop, i could teach you one of my own moves?” he groaned and let his head fall back.

“i thought you forgot about that.”

“i did.” you shrugged. “‘till i didn’t.”

“do we have to?” he pouted.

“yes, now stop being a baby. it’ll be easy, i promise.” you led him to the middle of the rink and let go. “ok, watch me.” you began skating away, once far enough you put one leg out. eventually putting it down you turned back to your boyfriend. “easy, right?”

“sure.”

“now you do it.” he began skating forward but as soon as he put his leg up, he stumbled forward, quickly catching himself. you crouched over laughing.

“it’s not funny, Y/N/N.”

“yes it is.” you laughed even harder, he huffed. “ok, ok, i’m sorry, try again.” he kept trying, sometimes stumbling. he complained a lot along the way, asking if you two could just leave. you wouldn’t let him give up, you kept pushing until he finally got it.

“was there a point to this?”

“of course.” you skated from your spot to him, grabbing him and pulling him along with you. beginning to gain speed, you pressed your back to his and placed his hands on your waist. you leaned forward, kicking your leg out as you skated, Suguru watched and knew what you wanted him to do. he did just the same as you, your bodies lined up together and you skated around half the rink like that. putting your leg down to stop you looked at him. “see, i had a point.”

“yeah but my point is better.”

“you didn’t even make a point.”

“yeah i did.”

“then what’s your point?”

“this.” he grabbed your jaw between his hand and planted his lips on yours. he parted your lips with his own and slipped his tongue into your mouth, you moaned around him. cupping the back of your head, he slowly inched you down until you were both lying on the floor. he kissed from your mouth to your neck, unbuttoning your shirt slowly, he trailed his fingertips along your body. his hands ran along the hem of your skirt before he slipped it under the garment. his finger circled your clit and slid down to your entrance. he circled it and felt you flutter before he slid one into you, you moaned when he entered another. you were so wet, soaking his entire hand as he fucked it in you, he stopped just as you felt your orgasm approaching.

“hey!” you whined at him.

“i know, i know. i’ll make it up to you.” he began suckling small marks into the skin and trailing them down your body. leaving kisses down your body as you heaved at the affection. he licked into your belly button before looking at you. “you’re so pretty.”

“you tell me all the time.”

“just making sure you know.” he leaned down to unlace both your and his skates and threw them somewhere across the rink. his hand slithered up your thigh and he gripped the stockings you were wearing under your skirt. “these are so dumb.” before you could reply, you heard the loud rip of the fabric.

“Suguru!” you yelled at him, “i have to wear these out of here!”

“it’ll be fine.”

“they’re my favorite pair.” you pouted.

“i’ll get you some more, ok?”

“fine.” he moves down your body once more, now coming face to face with the wet spot on your panties. he ran his finger over and pushed into your hole slightly, collecting more wetness on the fabric. he pulled your panties to the side. he breathed against your skin, your pussy fluttering as you felt it. he licked your clit, his piercing running over it quickly. he dove straight into it. wasting no time he began eating at you like a man starved. your back arched off the ice, fingers tangling in his hair, you pulled on it roughly and he moaned into you. you guided his head up and down in you, his tongue dragging over your clit, his piercing rubbing over it. he looked up to you and the sight above him was beautiful, your mouth was dropped open and your chest was arched off the floor. one of his hands began to run circles over your hole, he slipped two fingers in you. you moaned as his fingers rubbed your walls, his tongue piercing rolled over your engorged clit and your voice broke as you cried out his name.

his fingers began to fuck into you faster and he went from licking your clit to sucking on it. an orgasm was building up quickly and you couldn’t fight it off. “Sugu, i’m gonna cum.” ever since the two of you got together, Suguru spent his time learning your body, learning what made you tick and twitch. your hips began bucking up in his face, his other hand came up to hold you down. his palm pushed you back against the floor, making sure you couldn’t squirm away from him. he sucked on your clit harder, your stomach clenched and your toes curled. “Sugu!” your things trembled and you cried as you came, you shook as Suguru kept sucking, his fingers stilled inside of you pressing into your walls instead.

“give me another.” he murmured softly, he began sucking on your clit again. you panted, gripping his head harder, pressing him more into you. you clenched around his fingers harder and before you could warn him, you were squirting all over his face. he gulped it down happily, drinking from you like he was a parched man and you a fountain. he sat up and smiled at you, your juices dripping from his chin. you sighed as he let up, body relaxing into the floor. “i love it when you do that.”

“i don’t.”

“why.” he whined like a petulant child.

“it takes a lot out of me. take your pants off.” he obliged, sliding them to the middle of his thighs.

“you’re bossy,” he joked.

“you like it.” he nodded his head with a smirk on his face, he does like it, you’re the only person who can put him in his place. he lifted your legs and wrapped them around his waist, his body engulfed yours, wrapping his arms around and you cradling your head as his body bent over yours. he lined his tip up with your entrance. he groaned as he pushed into you, your walls fluttered around him and you took him inch by inch. you turned your head to him searching for his lips. “Sugu.” you whispered, he turned to face you and you pressed your lips to his. he began thrusting into you, your lips moved against each other, you sucked on his tongue and his eyes rolled back. his moan vibrated through your head, you took the ball of his piercing into your mouth, rolling your tongue over it and biting the metal playfully.

“you’re so big.” you rested your head on the ice, your ass was pressed against it. the tights were ripped around your thighs, your panties pulled to the side rubbing against Sugurus cock as he fucked you.

“you’re so tight,” he moaned. “fuck, i love you.” your eyes widened. that was the first time he ever said it to you. his thrusts slowed down and grew deeper, he went from slutting you out to fucking you passionately. “i love you.” he pressed his lips to yours, his hand that was cradling your head tangled into your hair, pulling at it to make you look at him. his tongue ran over your lips, opening them and sliding it into your mouth. you took a minute to kiss him back, your eyes stayed open as he kissed you. his pelvis rubbed directly on your clit and your eyes crossed. he cock continuously rubbed your g-spot, his tip nudged your cervix. you panted and moaned into his mouth, he breathed you in, soaking up every sound that escaped your lips.

“i’m gonna cum.” you whimpered.

“me too.” the kiss between you two grew sloppy, less of a kiss and more of a combination of tongues and slobber. everything was so wet, your face with his spit, your body with sweat, in between your legs with his precum and your arousal. “i’m gonna cum in this tight pussy, gonna fill you up. wanna watch you grow, watch your stomach get bigger causa me.” you moaned at his words, who knew Suguru Geto had a breeding kink? “tell me.” he bit your lip. “tell me you want it. you want my kids.”

“fuck, i want it.” you sobbed, back arching to his chest.

“you want it? wanna be a mommy? gonna make me a daddy?”

“yes! gonna make you a daddy, want you to make me a mommy.” you slurred, words stringing together.

“you’re gonna be such a pretty mommy, princess, gonna have the cutest kids.” he lifted his face to look into your eyes. he gripped your chin, making you look at him. “look at me when you cum, keep your eyes open.” you tried but your eyes rolled back into your head. he landed quick gentle slaps to your face “open ‘em.” your mouth dropped open, you tried to tell him you were close but all that came out were garbled words. “i know, pretty girl, you’re so close.” he mocked. “gonna cum all over me? make a mess? let it go.” you cried out as you came, voice cracking from the volume. “there it is, let it out for me.” your legs shook with your orgasm, your back arched and fell with tremors. “i’m gonna cum.” his thrust faltered, one, two, three more before he filled you up. there was so much of it that you swore you could see your stomach expanding with each rope.

“Sugu, there’s so much.”

“fuck, i know.” it seeped out around him, dripping from you down his balls. he pulled out of you, wincing as the coldness of the rink met his cock. he laid next to you, sprawling out on the ice. “i meant it.” you looked at him. “i know what you’re thinking, i meant it. i wouldn’t have said it if i didn’t.” you sighed with relief.

“i love you too.” he smiled so wide you thought it would stick to his face. “did you mean the other thing?”

“what? making you a mom?” you nodded. “fuck yeah.” he laughed. “you’d look hot as a mom.”

“Suguru!”

“what?! you would. and i’d get to watch it. getting hard jus’ thinkin’ bout it.”

“you’re gross.” your face turned up jokingly.

“maybe but it’s more than that. i want that with you, i want kids with you, wanna have everything with you.”

“i want it too.”

“really?”

“yeah but it might be too early right now.” you turned on your side, laying your head on his chest. “how about… meeting my grandfather next saturday?”

“ok. is he gonna kill me?”

“probably.”

“fuck.”

----------------

THIS TOOK FOREVER!! i was supposed to have this out weeks ago but it's out now! i hope you enjoyed. likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

@shadowthief78 @alittlepuppyslut @leave-rae-alone @sugurusprettygirl @kissyblake-uwu @blubearxy @moonlithavensworld @deanzelly @xxharumixx @httpghostface @enhypen-scholarship @breeziebetty @3xv5s @iwannachokeontojifushiguroscock @ilovemydogsimon @jellyamour @secretanimesimp @literallynothingandnobody @morganadorodo @shiroganekagami @mmeerraa @lunairiki @saccharine-nectarine @deepinballs @boba-is-a-soup @localgaytrainwreck @bootlegroach @r0ses4ndlilies @shoyos-sugarbaby @sativaxc @spam-love @sh0rtccakee @onlypickless @nishii28 @missgab @anastasijaiwaizumi @strawberry-hyacinth @ynmnln @flrdete @megmercury @bforbiblio @hwanin @reinersweiner @childof-iluvatar @toijisdilfdaddy @doniveatry @cursedwings2005 @liaurokodaki @vixensbrainrotts @pillowow @beelzmunchkin @idkkk343 @xoxohyuniin09 @fartzalot @ghostlillah @diiaicar @vampl-sh @bffrrufr @jay-mach @firstwarmdayofbluespring @svtkiss

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hoshifighting · 3 months

Text

Workaholic!Joshua

— Synopsis: Joshua consistently skips happy hours or works overtime. You've tried to warn your friend countless times, but he didn't listen to you. As a result, it's no surprise that Joshua experienced a burnout on the office floor. — WC: 5.3k — WARNINGS: Smut, fluff, angst, office setting, fingering (f. receiving), clit stimulation, handjob, penetrative sex, a little bit of car sex, protected sex, dirty talk, flirty Joshua.

[Please be aware that the following text includes mentions of burn-out, collapse, fainting out, which may be a sensitive topic for some]

[Issue Club Serie]

You remember when you heard your manager talking about a job vacancy in the recruitment and selection sector. The name immediately stood out to you—Joshua. You studied with him in college, and you knew he would be perfect for the role.

The manager loved him. Joshua was charismatic, empathetic, and dedicated—everything the recruitment team needed. Every morning, he would thank you profusely, and at least twice a week, he would insist on buying you an overpriced coffee. It took some time for you to convince him that he didn't need to do this.

But there was something else you couldn't help but notice. The sheer number of job interviews Joshua had to lead, the late nights you'd see him at his desk with tired eyes, and how he always seemed a little lonely, even though the team welcomed him with open arms.

Joshua would rarely show up to the department's happy hours on Fridays or the company parties, and even then, he would only talk about work. There was no relief, no relaxation. You found yourself listening to him until the end of the night, as the rest of the team started to ask if he would even bother coming anymore, knowing he probably wouldn't.

You couldn't help but feel for Joshua. He was clearly passionate about his work, but at what cost? You watched as he isolated himself, unable to find that work-life balance that so many of us strive for. It made you wonder, what was driving him to push himself so hard, and at what point would the stress and loneliness become too much to bear?

As his friend, you couldn't help but worry about his well-being. You'd seen him cancel plans, skip social events, and even miss out on family gatherings, all in the name of his career. It was admirable, sure, but also concerning.

You could consider reaching out, inviting him for a coffee or a quick chat. Maybe he just needed someone to listen and remind him that there was more to life than just work.

But then again, who were you to judge?

Everyone has their own path, their own motivations. Still, you couldn't shake the feeling that Joshua was heading for a burnout. You wondered if there was a way to help him find a better balance without undermining his ambitions. It was a tricky situation, and you weren't sure how to approach it.

As you glance at the clock, the hands indicate it's already 3:35 pm. Your stomach growls, reminding you that you've been so absorbed in your work that you've skipped lunch. Deciding it's time for a much-needed break, you gather your phone and wallet, heading towards the exit of the department.

But just as you're about to leave, you spot Joshua, his fingers dancing across the keyboard in a blur of movement. You can't help but let out a small sigh, knowing he's likely putting in extra hours again. Turning around, you make your way over to his desk, standing beside him.

"Joshua, it's past 3:30. Don't you think it's time for a break?" you say, your voice laced with concern.

Joshua looks up, blinking a few times as he registers your presence. "Oh, hey Y/N. I'm just trying to get this report finished before the end of the day," he explains, his brow furrowed in concentration.

You can't help but smile at his dedication. "Come on, you've been working non-stop. Let's go grab a bite to eat across the street. My treat," you offer, hoping to coax him away from his desk.

Joshua hesitates for a moment, glancing back at his computer screen. "I don't know, Y/N. I really need to get this done..."

"It can wait, Joshua. You need to take a break and recharge," you insist, your tone gentle but firm.

With a sigh, Joshua nods and starts to gather his things. "Alright, you win. Let's go," he says, shrugging on his blazer.

You can't help but feel a sense of triumph as the two of you head towards the elevator. "So, how are the apprentice interviews going?" you ask. "They're going well, actually. The candidates are all so eager and eager to learn," Joshua replies, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You chuckle, nodding in understanding. "That's the best phase, but I hope they don't overwork themselves in the future, right Josh?" you say, casting him a knowing glance.

Joshua ducks his head, chuckling quietly. "Yeah, yeah, I hear you," he says, the hint of a smile still playing on his face.

As you step out into the bustling street, you feel the sun's warmth on your face, a pleasant contrast to the cold, sterile office. You turn to Joshua, a playful grin spreading across your face.

"Alright, Josh, here's the deal. If you talk about work during this break, you'll owe me an ice cream," you declare, wagging a finger at him.

Joshua laughs, a genuine sound that lightens the mood. "Deal. Though, to be honest, I'd buy you an ice cream anyway," he says, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Don't you forget it. And remember, I'm serious," you say, trying to keep a straight face as you give him a mock-stern look.

Joshua raises his hands in surrender, still chuckling. "Alright, alright, I heard you loud and clear."

As you both find a cozy little café, the smell of freshly baked bread and brewed coffee envelops you. You choose a table by the window, and as you settle in with your meals, the casual chatter of other patrons creates a comforting background hum.

"Did you hear about the latest drama?" you begin, leaning in conspiratorially. "The director's wife found out he was cheating on her because her strawberry jam kept disappearing from the fridge—and the director doesn't even like strawberry jam!"

Joshua's mouth drops open, his eyes wide in disbelief. "No way. Seriously?" he exclaims, staring at you.

You nod, your face a picture of exaggerated exasperation. "Yup. She noticed it was going down way too fast and started putting two and two together."

Joshua shakes his head, still processing the story. "That's wild. You know, during the last interview I led, they actually put some strawberry jam on the table so the candidates would—" He stops abruptly as your glare pierces him. He laughs, holding up his hands again. "Sorry, sorry! No work talk, I remember."

You can't help but smile at his sheepish expression. "Thank you. So, back to the story. After she figured it out, she didn’t just confront him. Oh no, she went all out. She invited him to a romantic dinner, complete with candles and, of course, strawberry jam."

Joshua raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "And then what happened?"

You lean in closer, lowering your voice. "She waited until he took a bite of the dessert she made—some fancy strawberry tart. And then she calmly asked him if he enjoyed it as much as his 'office snacks.'"

Joshua bursts out laughing, nearly choking on his food. "No way! That’s brilliant. What did he do?"

You grin, enjoying his reaction. "He turned beet red and started stammering. She didn’t even wait for an explanation. She just got up, left the table, and moved out the next day. Took the jam with her too, just for good measure."

Joshua laughs so hard tears form in his eyes. "I can't believe it. That's some next-level pettiness. Good for her."

You noticed Joshua seemed more relaxed after your lunch together. He even managed a smile when you passed by his desk later that day. However, during the week, your attempts to repeat the lunch outing were met with resistance. Each time you invited him, he had a different excuse.

"Hey, Josh, want to grab some lunch today?" you asked on Tuesday, hoping to replicate the success of your last outing.

"Sorry, Y/N. I need to lead the apprentice interview," he replied, not looking up from his computer.

On Wednesday, you tried again. "How about lunch today? There is a pasta sale going on at the mall."

Joshua sighed, shaking his head. "I wish I could, but I need to filter the job applications. We're getting so many, and I need to find the best ones."

By Thursday, your frustration was evident, but you kept it in check. "Lunch today, Josh? You deserve a break."

"I'd love to, but I need to solve the issue with the employees' late salaries," he said, sounding genuinely apologetic. "It's causing a lot of stress for everyone."

Joshua was developing into someone who rarely took a break from his work. Today was Friday, and as you were leaving with your coworkers, all you wanted was to taste a cold beer and find some refuge from the rough week. The whole department was eager to hang out together, and the air was filled with energy.

You were refreshing your makeup at your desk as your coworkers trickled out, laughing and chatting. Glancing over, you saw Joshua standing by the printer, watching the curriculums pile up.

"Josh, you coming out with us tonight?" you called over, hoping to finally get him to relax.

He looked up, "I don't know, Y/N. I have these curriculums to go through, and then there's the report I need to finish."

Tired of trying, you sigh in defeat, the weight of your concern for Joshua pressing heavily on your shoulders. He notices, his eyes meeting yours briefly, but you turn away and walk out. You knew you didn't have the responsibility of checking on him every single time—it was his choice to work himself into exhaustion. But how could you not worry? He was a great friend, and the thought of him breaking down alone between the dividers of his desk was unbearable.

As you sip your beer, trying to enjoy the happy hour, the image of Joshua's lost eyes lingers in your mind. The laughter and chatter around you fade into the background as your thoughts drift back to him. After a few hours, the night winds down, and you remember you forgot your keys at the office. Debora, your coworker, offers you a ride back so you can retrieve them before heading home.

The office is dark and silent as you and Debora step inside, your footsteps echoing softly on the tiled floor. Only one light is turned on, casting a dim glow over a single desk. You immediately recognize it—Joshua's desk. But he isn't sitting there.

A sense of dread fills you as you approach, the cubicle dividers blocking your view. As you round the corner, you see him—Joshua, sprawled on the floor.

You gasp, rushing to his side. "Joshua!" you scream out, your voice trembling with panic. You carefully lift his head and place it on your lap, your hands shaking as you check for signs of consciousness. He's unresponsive, his face pale and drawn.

"Debora, call an ambulance!" you shout, your voice tight.

Debora fumbles with her phone, her fingers trembling as she dials. She quickly explains the situation to the operator and then rushes to find building security for additional help.

You gently shake Joshua, trying to rouse him. "Come on, Josh, wake up," you whisper urgently, but he remains still, his breathing shallow.

Minutes later, which feel like an eternity, the sound of sirens pierces the silence. The paramedics arrive, and you reluctantly let go of Joshua as they take over, assessing his condition and preparing to move him. You insist on riding with him to the hospital, unable to leave his side.

As the ambulance speeds through the city streets, you hold Joshua's hand, your heart pounding with worry. Outside the building, a few employees gather, watching the scene unfold with concern. You barely notice them, your focus entirely on Joshua, praying silently that he'll be okay.

You don't know exactly how many hours you've been by Joshua's side as he lies in the hospital bed. You watched the morning light grow brighter through the window, dozed off, woke up to find him still sleeping, went to the bathroom, and grabbed something from the cafeteria. When you return to his room, you see Joshua awake, a nurse measuring his blood pressure. An uncomfortable silence settles in as the nurse finishes up and leaves.

You sigh, walking next to him and turning your back to him.

"Are you mad at me?" Joshua asks, his voice still weak.

You shake your head, the words snapping out before you can stop them. "No, I'm letting you rest, since you don't do it yourself."

He sighs deeply, and you close your eyes, immediately regretting your harsh tone. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to give you this much trouble," he says softly.

You shake your head negatively, looking down. "I found you on the floor, Josh. The only reason I was there was because I forgot my keys. What if I hadn't come back?"

Joshua struggles, but he manages to reach out and catch your hand that is hanging by the bedside. His cold touch makes you glance at him. His eyes are full of exhaustion.

"Please, don't make me this worried again,"

Joshua squeezes your hand weakly. "I'll try, Y/N. I really will. I'm sorry for pushing myself so hard and for pushing you away. I didn't realize how bad it had gotten."

You nod "You don't have to do everything alone, you know. We're all here for you. I'm here for you."

He nods, his eyes glistening. "I know. And I appreciate it more than you know. I just... I need to find a better balance."

"Promise me you'll take it seriously this time," you say.

"I promise," he whispers, his grip on your hand tightening just a bit, weakly. "I'll take better care of myself."

You sit down next to him, your hand still in his. "Good. Because you can't go through that again."

You didn't like the rumors circulating around the office about Joshua while he was away. It bothered you to hear whispers about his collapse, especially since everyone in his department knew how hard he worked and yet pretended everything was fine.

As the days passed, Joshua's desk slowly filled with Post-it notes and snacks, contributions from you and other departments. Joshua's sudden health scare was a wake-up call, touching more hearts than just yours.

When Joshua returned today, Friday, you watched from your desk as he walked in, his eyes lighting up at the sight of his desk. Messages of encouragement and little treats were piled high.

His face goes red as he glances around, catching the subtle glances of his coworkers. They quickly return to their tasks, but you see the corners of their mouths twitching with barely concealed smiles.

He worked at his desk, and his department members spared him from taking on too much. As the windows started to show the darkening sky, some people had already left to go home. Unlike regular Fridays, there was no happy hour planned for tonight.

Seungkwan approached Joshua's desk, a concerned look on his face. "Hey, Josh, you should really think about not doing extra hours today."

Joshua shook his head, "I'm going to take it easy for now…" a small smile formed as he looked at you. "Also, I have a happy hour for two tonight, so no extra hours."

As his friends gave you sly glances and teased you with their smiles, you felt your cheeks blush.

"Looks like someone's got a date," Seungkwan said, grinning.

How did you two end up on a date? It started in the hospital. Joshua was still recovering, lying in bed, holding your hand. The room was quiet, the noise from machines was the only sound.

"How can you forgive me?" he asked, his voice soft.

You shook your head, a gentle smile on your face. "I'm not mad at you, Josh. But it would be cool if you took a break every now and then. Maybe we could go to a happy hour someday."

Joshua licked his lips, still holding your hand and giving it a weak squeeze. He looked up at you, all flirty. "Would you be open to having a happy hour with just you and me?"

You blinked, shocked. "What?"

He blushed, looking down for a moment before meeting your eyes again. "Come on, it's so difficult for me to take a break. I'd love to have you as the motive for my breaks."

You scoffed, attempting to conceal the warmth that spread throughout your chest. "You should take breaks for your health and my sanity."

Joshua brushed his thumb against your hand, a playful grin grabbing at his lips. "Don't scold me, Y/N-nie, I'm sick," he teased.

You stared at him, a shocked smirk on your face. "You're taking advantage of me."

"Yes," he said, his smile growing. "Using the advantage, so you accept having an encounter with me."

The memory of that conversation makes you smile as you walk out of the office together, the evening air cool and refreshing.

"So, where are we going for this happy hour?" you ask, trying to lighten the mood.

Joshua chuckles, his eyes bright with excitement. "I thought we could try that new restaurant around the corner. I've heard good things."

You nod, feeling the tension of the week melt away. "Sounds perfect."

As you both enter the bar, the atmosphere is lively but not unpleasant. You find a cozy corner table and settle in, the soft murmur of conversation and clinking glasses creating a comfortable backdrop.

Joshua looks at you, his eyes filled with gratitude and something else that makes your heart skip a beat. "Thanks for convincing me to take a break."

You smile, raising your glass. "To more breaks and less stress."

He clinks his glass against yours, a genuine smile on his face. "To more happy hours with you."

After dinner, you find yourself sitting in the passenger seat of Joshua's car. The air is filled with a comforting silence, both of you soaking in the cozy warmth of the evening. As he pulls the car up in front of your house, you pause for a moment, your heart quickening in your chest as you struggle to gather the courage to look over at him.

Instead, you direct your gaze out the windshield, staring at the street ahead of you. The dim glow of streetlights paints the night in soft hues of orange, casting shadows on the quiet neighborhood.

"Do you want to come inside?" you ask, your voice hardly above a whisper.

Joshua turns your face toward his, his touch gentle as he lifts your chin with a soft touch. "You want me to go inside?" he enquires, his tone soft.

You nod, your gaze drawn to his mouth. "Yes."

"Then tell me," he teases, "what exactly are we going to do inside?"

You gulp, your mind racing. "We can... we can..." you stutter. You didn't have an answer on the tip of your tongue.

Joshua leans in close to you, his smile growing wider as he whispers against your skin, "I'm going to come inside, but go easy on me," he says, his breath warm and sultry, "I'm not quite recovered yet."

You shiver at his words. "What do you mean?" you ask, your voice still low and quiet as you look up at him.

"What do you think I mean?" he replies with a smirk, his eyes glinting in the dim light. "I mean," he murmurs, his mouth brushing against your ear as he speaks, "that you might have to take it slow with me."

"Slow? How slow?" You're whispering, not because you're afraid of being loud, it's because you're so horny that your voice is strained.

Joshua's lips curve into a smirk as he sees the effect he's having on you.

"Slow," he whispers back, his voice low and seductive. "Slow to the point where you feel yourself starting to drip."

He closes the gap between you, his lips hovering just millimeters from yours as his hands slide up your hips.

"Are you sure you want me to come inside?" he asks, his mouth so close to yours that you can feel the heat of his breath on your skin.

Your mind could only focus on the two last words. Mind foggy. "Come inside?"

Joshua widens his eyes slightly, then a cocky smile spreads across his face as he registers the double meaning of your words. "Hmm look at you, how nasty... I guess we can do this too..."

His lips crash against yours, no longer gentle but filled with urgency. His tongue delves into your mouth, exploring, tasting. You gasp, the wet noises so sultry inside his sleek car. His hands unclasp your seatbelt, and one slide from your knee to your thigh, slipping under your pencil skirt to feel the lacy panties you wore.

"Slowly, like this," he murmurs against your mouth, his voice too sultry.

His hand moves to the front of your panties, and you instinctively raise your hips as he pulls them down, discarding them onto the car's floor. The air inside the car starts to feel foggy, just like your senses, and your breathing becomes more rapid.

Joshua's hand returns to your now bare skin, his fingers teasing and exploring the wet folds of your pussy. You moan softly into his mouth, your body reacting to every touch. And slow, just like he said, he starts to circle your clit with his finger, making you instantly melt against the seat as you spread your legs wider for him.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes dark and intense, filled with fascination as he watches your reactions. Your mouth can't correspond to the wet kisses anymore, your hips roll against his hand, your legs spasm as you try to keep them open, and your skirt rises, revealing your sopping cunt glistening.

You find yourself pushed back against the seat, your body arching as you grow more desperate for him. His eyes never leave yours.

“I can feel how much you want this.”

You can only nod, your breath coming in ragged gasps as his fingers speed on your swollen bud.

“So open, so needy.” he murmurs making you feel that sharp stitch in your belly一your horniness growing.

His words make you moan, and he chuckles, his voice filled with a gloomy promise. “I want to hear more of that,” he says, his fingers teasing your entrance before slipping inside. You cry out, your body responding instantly to his touch, your head thrown back.

“Joshua,” you gasp, your hands clutching at his shirt as you try to ground yourself.

He leans in closer, his breath hot against your neck. “Yes, Y/N? Tell me what you need.”

“More,” you manage to say, your voice trembling, “I need more.”

He pulls back slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a fiery intensity. “More? I can give you more.”

With that, he increases the pace, his fingers moving inside you making the squelching wet songs, louder. He watches you so closely that you feel embarrassed; it is as if he reads everything about you and knows every secret you keep.

“Every little touch, every little tease… you’re soaking it all up.” He coos, and you feel your orgasm getting closer and closer.

You can only whimper in response, your body trembling with the need for release. He leans in, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss. The taste of him, the feel of him, it’s all too much, and you can sense that you are nearing collapse.

“Cum for me, sweetheart,” he whispers against your lips. “Let go.”

His words are your undoing. With a cry, you shatter, your body convulsing against his leather seat. Joshua holds you through it, his touch possessive, trying to keep you still so you can feel the waves better. As you come down from the high, you find yourself panting, your body still trembling non-stop.

His fingers are soaked, glistening in the pale light. With a teasing grin, Joshua brings them to his mouth, sucking them clean with a satisfied pop. You immediately turn your face to the window, your cheeks burning with embarrassment as you try to straighten your skirt. His chuckle fills the car, rich and warm.

“Shy now, are we?” he teases, his voice low and playful.

You can’t bring yourself to look at him, your hands fumbling with the fabric of your skirt. But Joshua isn’t done with you yet. He leans in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “We can resume this inside. What do you think?”

You nod, finally daring to meet his gaze. He gives you a quick peck on the lips before stepping out of the car. You watch him circle around to your side, suppressing a laugh when he catches the glimpse of your knees trembling as you exit the vehicle.

“Did you get this horny?” he can't hide the amusement in his voice.

The walk to your front door feels like an eternity, your fingers fumbling with the keys as Joshua’s need becomes more apparent. He’s pressing his bulge against you, his hands roaming over your body as he kisses your neck, making it hard to focus on unlocking the door.

Finally, the door swings open, and you grab Joshua by the collar of his white shirt, pulling him inside. Your mouths collide in a desperate kiss, his hands clutching your hips as you stumble toward the bedroom. You don’t care about the noise or the awkward angles; all that matters is the friction among you, the urgent need to be closer.

With outstretched arms, you brace yourself against the wall, your body arching toward his as he presses against you. His hands are everywhere—sliding under your blouse, unhooking your bra, teasing the sensitive skin beneath. You moan into his mouth, your hands clutching at his hair while you're absorbed by the feeling.

“Bedroom,” you manage to gasp, your voice breathless and needy.

Joshua’s response is a low growl, his hands gripping your waist as he guides you through the hallway. You barely make it to the bed before you’re pulling at each other’s clothes, the fabric tearing in your haste to be free of it. His shirt falls to the floor, followed by your skirt, his pants, your blouse—until there’s nothing between you but skin and heat.

He pushes you gently onto the bed, his body covering yours as he kisses you sloppy. His hands continue their search, teasing, caressing, making you frantic with need. You arch against him, your fingers digging into his back as you pull him closer.

His cock lays heavily against your belly, a warm, wet spot forming on your skin from his precum. You grab his throbbing length, feeling it pulse under your touch. Joshua shudders, moaning needily against your mouth, the sound vibrating through you and adding to your own arousal.

Your hand collects the sticky lubrication, spreading it along its entire length. You begin to stroke him, your other hand tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. His eyes flutter open, trying to stay locked on yours as you speed up your strokes. His gasps and whimpers alimented your hunger, making you feel yourself oozing more and more.

At a certain point, he lets out a high-pitched squeak, hiding his face in your neck. "I need to be inside you," he says, his voice strained and desperate.

You close your eyes, the heat of his breath on your skin sending shivers down your spine. "Open this drawer," you murmur, nodding towards the bedside table.

Joshua extends his arm, fumbling slightly as he opens the drawer and finds a couple of condoms. He picks one up, glancing at you with a teasing smile. "Always prepared, huh?" he says, tearing open the shiny packet.

His hands move with such practiced ease that it makes your breath catch when you watch him slide the rubber down his length. His cock looks even more inviting now, sheathed and ready for you.

He positions himself at your entrance, pausing for a moment to look into your eyes. Slowly, he pushes inside, filling you inch by inch. You gasp at the sensation, your pussy stretching to accommodate him. Joshua’s groan is deep and throaty, his hands gripping your hips as he bottoms out.

For a moment, neither of you moves, so you adjust to his side, but thankfully his fingers prepared you well in his car. Then, he begins to thrust, his pace is slow at first, his eyes locked on yours, watching every reaction, his ears alert to your every moan, and every wet sound from your stretched little cunt.

You arch your back, meeting his thrusts, your hands clutching his shoulders. “Faster, Joshua,”

He complies, his pace quickening, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. The room is filled with the sex sounds—the slap of skin against skin, the mingled moans and gasps, the creaking of the bed. You feel yourself climbing higher, the knot on your belly desperately wanting to blossom.

Joshua’s rhythm falters for a moment, his grip on your hips tightening. “I’m close,” he whispers, his voice strained.

“Me too,” you reply, your nails digging into his back.

Joshua takes his cock out of you, positioning himself a little further back before slamming all the way in again. The sudden movement makes you grab his forearm, while his other hand lays on your belly. Each thrust is powerful, hitting that perfect, spongy spot inside you that makes you sob with pleasure. You grow tighter around him with every second, the stimulation driving you both wild.

"You're perfect," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

"Am I?" you manage to gasp between his thrusts.

"Absolutely," he praises, his words going straight to your core. "You're so tight, so wet. You're perfect for me."

The praise sends a jolt of pleasure through you, making you arch your back and cum for him. Joshua smiles at the sight of you unraveling beneath him—Your legs try to close instinctively, but his hips keep them wide apart. Your eyes roll back, your pussy gushing as your fingers curl around the headboard.

He finds your clit with his thumb, rubbing it just as your orgasm peaks. It shatters you, making you curse.

"Fuck, Joshua! You're so deep... don't stop... please, don't stop. God, you're going to make me cum again."

"You're so fucking tight," he groans, his pace quickening. "I can feel you squeezing me. You're gonna make me cum so hard."

"Keep cumming for me, baby," he whispers, his own voice shaking.

His moans grow louder, his pace more frantic. Your dirty talk pushes him to the brink, and with a final, powerful thrust, he cums hard. His loud moaning, combined with the sensation of his cum filling the condom, makes your head spin.

Joshua leaves you shaking for the second time that evening, fully exhausted and completely satisfied.

Joshua falls on his side beside you, his breaths coming hard and fast. You can't help but tease him, a smirk playing on your lips.

"Are you going to faint here too? Should I call an ambulance? After all, you weren’t as slow as you said you would be."

He laughs, his chest heaving. "I’ve got enough energy to fuck you all night if you want to, leave your bed all drenched," he says, kissing your cheek and playfully slapping your clit, making you shudder.

"All night, huh?" you tease back, your fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest. "Big talk for someone who just collapsed next to me."

Joshua grins, his eyes sparkling. "You doubt me?"

"I’m just saying," you reply, your tone playful. "Maybe you should pace yourself. I wouldn’t want you passing out on me."

He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. "I’m not going anywhere. And if you think that was all I’ve got, you’re in for a surprise."

You chuckle, your fingers dancing down his stomach. "Promises, promises," you whisper, your hand inching closer to his now half-hard cock. "Let’s see if you can keep up."

Joshua groans, his body responding to your touch. "You’re going to regret challenging me," he murmurs.

"Bring it on," you whisper back.

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im-totally-not-an-alien-2 · 10 months

Text

Danny, at 17, did not have the best love life. This is partially because two of his must haves in a partner are " Will protect me with their life" and "Will commit unspeakable acts of violence for me" or at least beat someone up for his honor.

Naturally, this doesn't always result in the most stable of partners.

His first girlfriend, Valerie, became an anti-hero and broke up with him for his safety.

He finally got with Sam in sophomore year only for the feds to come into class one day to arrest her. To his surprise, her crimes had nothing to do with ghosts but rather an incident where she went too far and committed a few acts of economic terrorism. Danny and Tucker never really learned the specifics of the crimes, and her parents hushed up as many news outlets as they could, so there wasn't much info to go around. All they knew was that she saved thousands of lives by doing it.

In the end, she was sentenced to eight years, and she broke up with him so that he wouldn't wait around for her to get out.

His third partner was a guy named David who was really sweet. Unfortunately, Danny got kidnapped one day by David's arch nemesis, who was some villain with a corny edge lord name. Yeah. David had become a a super hero after they started dating.

And if you guessed that he freaked out and dumped Danny for his own protection, you'd deserve a cookie.

Danny was noticing a pattern here. One that continued with everyone he dated. They always became some kind of hero before dumping him for his own protection, and it was infuriating. Sure, danny could defend himself, but he was never deep enough into the relationship to reveal his phantom half, and frankly, his hero career was something he left behind when he left Amity and destroyed the portals.

He met Tim at a skatepark after Tim fell off his board cause of some jerk speeding out in front of him on his own board, forcing Tim to stop or else hit the guy. The guy was unrepentant and Tim calmed him down (this did not stop him from melting the guys wheels with an ectoblast when no one was looking).

Tim then asked him to coffee. Danny, noticing how cute Tim was, agreed.

Danny was up front with his parents being mad scientists in Illinois. He always was with all the people he dated. It was better not to hide these kinds of things or worse, wait until you're already attached and afraid of losing them. So he always told potential partners as early as possible. Tim seemed a bit put off by this but was calmer about it than most, and they continued chatting.

Tim didn't seem like the type to turn to heroism or anti heroism so he felt safe on their later dates. It was only after he had known Tim for a while that he put the pieces together.

Tim was always covered in bruises that he hid with his clothes and make up, he had complained about batman over the phone when he thought danny couldn't hear, he was rich, he knew how to fight as revealed by his stances and footwork dispite trying to pretend he didn't, and lastly he held a lot of political power and influence being Bruce Wayne's son. Power he had no reservations using when it suited him or he was just feeling petty (that pettiness was part of why danny was falling for him harder than he thought he could)

No wonder Tim was so okay with his parents being rouges.

Tim was a villain!

At least Tim wouldn't leave him like all his exes. Danny doesn't think he could handle it if he did. Another good thing about this is now he can talk more freely about the more villainous and morally gray ideas and inventions when he was alone with Tim.

Tim didn't see anything wrong with Danny's idea to use something similar to cloning pods to make synthetic meats like rump roasts and steaks as a way to end world hunger and was eager to add to the conversation.

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purplecoffee13 · 3 months

Text

The Silent Type*

Summary: “Harry, the quiet guy in the office, has silently admired you during your time working for the firm. Now that your work there is done, Harry finds that he can’t let you go just yet…”

Wc: 5k

Tropes: colleagues (ceorry/nerdrry)

Warnings: SMUT, overstimulation, daddy kink, switch sub/dom dynamics, oral, choking

A/N: SUP Y’ALL!!!! God I have just been waiting to be able to write again! I still have some exams coming up next week, but I spent all evening writing this one shot because I have been dying to get back into it😋 This is my first time writing a more subrry tinted fic, so I hope you enjoy it!

General Masterlist

if you want to support me more than liking or sharing, you can consider buying me a coffee!

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Harry has never been one to talk much.

It is one of the reasons why he chose the career of software developing. Most of it, he could do on his own.

It wasn't so much that Harry hated people, he just preferred his own company. More people tend to complicate things, and Harry is a more logical guy.

That was until he met you.

About three months ago, the company for which Harry worked had started their expansion, and he was to lead the people transferred to that section of the firm. With the expansion also came new employees, and that’s where you came in.

You had been temporarily hired by the company to weed out applicants, and assist the current HR manager to help with the job interviews.

Harry still remembers that first day when you walked into the office, all nervous and fidgety. He had spotted you through the glass walls of his office, and couldn't physically tear his eyes off of you.

It wasn't until your third day helping in the office, that you actually met Harry. You had no idea what to think of him. Well, besides the obvious, of course. He was ridiculously handsome, and from the way he was staring at you, you figured that maybe he was thinking something like that about you too.

But he didn't talk.

Your first time meeting consisted of nothing but a gruff 'nice to meet you' from Harry's side, and no input in the rest of the conversation whatsoever. It was only a couple days later, when you asked the HR manager about it, that you found out that's just how he was, that he didn't really talk to anyone. From that moment on, there had been a surge of motivation to let him make you the one exception.

Harry was just fascinated by you, and he had no idea why. You were a ball of energy, talking so fast you'd think someone had clicked on your 'sped up' button, and you were chaotic, all over the place. The amount of times he watched you bump into people was impossible to keep count of.

Then, one day, you bumped into him. It should have angered him, the spilt coffee on his pants. But he had an extra suit, and you looked so worried, he didn't want to make you feel worse. You still felt bad, though, so you decided to make it up to him, and started getting him coffee every morning.

By the end of the first week, he looked you in the eyes when he thanked you. By the end of the fourth, he'd ask you how you are and recall things you'd told him. By the end of sixth, he told you things about his life, and by the end of the tenth week, you were having longer conversations with him.

It was difficult to keep up the small talk with him in the beginning. You soon found out that his lone wolf attitude may had something to do with his awkwardness. You thought, perhaps people weren't willing to work through that, and eventually he just stopped trying.

Such a prospect made you sad, and it only motivated you more to get to know him better. Of course, the longing glances, and standing unnecessarily close to each other with his knuckles barely touching your arm, those things helped too.

There was an undeniable tension between the two of you that you found incredibly difficult to decipher. The way he'd let you catch him looking at you gave it away quite clearly, but the lack of any real initiative confused you.

Had you read it all wrong? Did he even think there was something there too?

Unfortunately, there was no way to find out, as your assignment at the company was coming to an end. Today had been your last day, and tonight is a launch party to officially celebrate the expansion of the company.

You were a little sad to leave the company, especially since you really liked the people working there. It is why you are most excited for tonight.

Wearing a long yellow dress—it is your favorite color—you stride into the building. You are mesmerized by all the balloons and how pretty everyone looks. Wearing expensive suits or classy dresses. You immediately realize you might be a bit too happily dressed; everyone is wearing darker colors.

It does make it easy for everyone to spot you, though. By the time you've gotten your drink, five people have already walked up to you. About half an hour into the party, the CEO of the company takes the stage to give a small speech.

"I would like to thank everyone who has participated in making this expansion go as smoothly as it did. Your work does not go unnoticed." He says through the microphone. Everyone claps for a few seconds, and the man waits to go on until it is quiet again.

"Now, I have a special announcement to make. I have wanted to make this expansion happen since I began working for this company in 1988. Now that I finally have, I feel that my job at this firm is done. And so, I have decided to retire from my position as CEO."

Your eyes widen at the speech; you had no idea this was even a thing. By the sound of the gasps and murmurs traveling through the room, you deduce that the news is unexpected for the rest of the company as well.

"It is also with great pride that I present the new CEO of our company, chosen after careful consideration. If mr. Harry Styles could please join me on stage."

Your mouth falls open at the mention of Harry's name, and you are certain you will never be able to close it again when you see him walking onto the stage. He wears a black suit, perfectly tailored to his body, and the sight of him has you concerned that you may be drooling.

The bald man hands the microphone to Harry, who does not look very pleased to be on stage; it almost seems like he is regretting his decisions. Until his eyes meet yours, that is when you see him let out a breath.

"Thank you, Mr. Johnson." He says, breaking eye contact to look at his former boss.

Right, that was his name, Johnson.

"I look forward to leading this company into more successes, and I promise that I will put my heart and soul into it. I have worked at this firm ever since I graduated college and they offered me a job during my internship, and it is safe to say that I have not regretted that decision a day of my life. I have always been loyal to this company, and I will remain loyal to you. Thank you."

You are perplexed. Why did he never tell you about this? You are very happy for him, but you do find it weird. It also makes you doubt again. Did whatever you had been building up the last months not mean as much to Harry as it did to you?

Well, it doesn't really matter, you're gone after tonight anyway.

Once the shock of the news has calmed down a bit, the party resumes as normal. Most people visit Harry one by one to congratulate him on the position, but you steer clear from him. It is no use, after tonight you will probably never see him again anyway.

Time passes, and you think you're ready to go home. There was a file in the office you forgot to sign earlier today, so you head up to do that first. The office is entirely dark when you walk out of the elevator. It's kind of eerie, so you are quick to turn on the lights.

It takes you a few minutes to find the file, since the receptionist placed it on someone else's desk. You find it on your colleague's desk, and walk over to the receptionist desk to sign it. Laying it on the keyboard of her computer, you pray that she won't displace it again, and make your way back to the elevators.

A loud shriek escapes you when Harry suddenly walks around the corner. He covers his ears at the high pitched sound, shocked by how much he scared you. With your hand on your chest you try and steady your breathing.

"Jesus, you scared the crap out of me."

"Sorry, didn't mean to." He says, a bit of worry in his tone. You look up at him.

"What are you even doing up here?"

"I was looking for you." He shrugs.

"Why?" Your eyebrows furrow, that same old tension in your stomach settling like it does every time Harry looks at you for longer than two seconds.

"You've been avoiding me." He answers casually, and you feel your heart drop. You didn't think he'd catch onto it.

"Congratulations by the way, for being the CEO. That was definitely a surprise." There is a bitterness in your tone. It is Harry's turn to frown. He hears the condescension, but his mind can't seem to come to a conclusion. Why are you angry? It's so hard to tell.

This is why he doesn't do people.

"You're mad that I am CEO?" He guesses, and your mouth falls open, much like it did when Harry's new position got announced.

"What?! Of course not! I'm very happy for you." You sputter out. The last thing you'd want him to think is that you don't want him to be happy or satisfied or successful.

"But you're still avoiding me." He repeats slowly. "You know, I didn't tell you about it because no one was supposed to know. I had to sign for it and everything. It's nothing personal."

The painful grip that his potential distrust in you had on your heart releases at the sound of his words. You could have known that it was due to something like that, you work in HR after all. That fact alone makes you realize how invested you unknowingly had become in Harry.

"I...I figured." You give him a weak smile. Harry's eyes search for yours, holding onto your gaze once he has found it. You stay like that, staring at each other for a while until you break the silence.

"I'm heading home. I don't think I'll see you again, so good luck. I'm sure you'll do wonderfully."

With much difficulty, you manage to look away from Harry and walk past him. At least, you try to, because halfway through, Harry's hand grabs your arm. You stop in your tracks, looking back at the man who stopped you. The man who has been sending you mixed signals for the past few months.

"D– do you want to join me in my office?"

You refrain from the shiver that threatens to run down your entire body, and nod. Harry's hand slides down your arm to your hand, and he intertwines his fingers with yours before he leads you to the glass doors that belong to him. On your way there, he flicks off the lights, leaving the two of you in the dark.

The city lights light up the otherwise pitch dark office that belongs to Harry, for now. He will be moved to the CEO's office when he starts his new position.

You don't say anything as Harry closes the door, or as he walks to the closet and pulls out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. You wait in anticipation of what he's going to do.

But then he sits down. He just sits down on his chair.

You stand there, staring at him, utterly confused about this man and his intentions with you, while he obliviously pours the whiskey into the glasses. In that moment, there is a switch inside of you, one that says: fuck it. This is your last day, you need a way to release this pent up tension, and you probably won't see him ever again after this. What have you got to lose? Nothing.

You walk over to the desk and sit down on it, extremely close to Harry. The split of your dress shows your bare, freshly shaved leg, and he seems to notice. His eyes pull to your legs like magnets, and he has to force himself to look you in the eyes as he hands you the glass of whiskey.

You try your best not to smirk at the effectiveness of your plan, focusing on your next move instead. Straight for the kill.

"So, why am I here, Harry?" You ask nonchalantly, taking a sip of your whiskey. It tastes quite strong, and it takes you a lot of effort not to have an expressive reaction to it.

"What?" He asks, eyes wide like a deer in headlights.

"Why'd you take me here?" You ask again, setting down your glass at the table before moving to stand in front of him. "To admire the view?"

Harry looks out the window, but his head shoots back to you when he notices you're sinking onto your knees in front of him. He thinks he may have forgotten to breathe as he observes the lustful look in your eyes. His eyes travel down to your tits, even more visible from this angle.

"Because I've admired it every day for the past three months." You continue. Harry swallows, frozen by the overload of his brain and the sensitivity of the growing constraint in these pants. "Why don't you take your pants off for me? Just enough to give me your cock. I like you in this suit."

Harry doesn't let another second fly by before he is unbuckling his pants, sliding it down just enough for you to have access to his cock and his balls. Your mouth waters at the size and girth of it, your cunt getting wetter with every passing moment.

You shimmy forward, leaning over his cock and grabbing it with your hand. Harry sighs at the minimal contact, making you feel even more powerful. Looking up at him through your lashes, you ask him one more question.

"You'll hold my hair, won't you?"

With that, you take Harry in your mouth as far as you can, before pulling away from him. A gasp leaves his mouth, and his eyes fall shut as you pump him with your hand while your mouth kisses and sucks on the head of his cock. You begin licking and kissing down his cock, while your hand softly feels up his balls.

Harry feels like he is in heaven already, and he forgets everything around him. It is only when you completely remove yourself from him that he opens his eyes again, and he sees. Catching on quickly, he leans forward and gathers your hair, twisting it around his palm.

Satisfied with Harry's obedience, your mouth attaches itself to his cock again. You take him slowly, teasingly, and move your head up and down. With every movement, you take him an inch deeper.

"Oh, f–fuck!" He groans out when you gag on him because you took yourself too far too fast. You steady your breathing, which is a bit more complicated as you can only breathe out your nose. You resume sucking him off for a bit longer, bobbing your head down a bit faster. The small sounds that leaves Harry's lips, along with his scrunched up face, gives you enough indication that he is approaching his climax.

So you remove your mouth from his cock.

He lets out a whine at the loss of contact. If your panties weren't wet before, they certainly are now. You smile at the state of him; desperate and needy for you. The fact that you've managed to make him fall apart like this makes you incredibly horny.

"I want to take all of you in my mouth, daddy." You tell him, looking up at him with your big eyes. "You'll have to help me."

You went out on a bit of a limb when you decided to call him daddy, but he doesn't seem to mind at all. In fact, Harry's eyes light up and his jaw slacks at the mention of the pet name.

"Shit– anything, sweetheart. Whatever you need." He croaks out.

"I need you to fuck my mouth." You respond sternly, not wasting any time and taking him between your lips again. You push yourself down his cock as far as you can, breathing deeply before moving your hand to Harry's hand, which is holding onto your hair, and pushing your head forward to indicate that he needs to push his cock down your throat.

Again, it doesn't take him long to listen, because Harry's hips thrust forward, his dick gliding into your throat. You moan at the force with which he pushed, and keep your mouth wide open as you let Harry navigate your head.

Once he fully understands that you are allowing him to let him use your mouth, the true fun begins. With the firm grip he has on your head, he pushes you up and down at an ungodly speed. Your jaw is already tiring from its locked position, but you power through it because the sounds that leave Harry's mouth make up for it.

"Fuck baby, such a good mouth. Never had anything like this... Jesus!" He pants out as he begins to thrust up into your mouth, and you feel like you might pass out. Suddenly, he pulls you away from his dick.

You frown, and realize as he is grabbing for a tissue that he is avoiding messing up your face. You don't stand for it, though, and wrap your lips around his cock again just in time for him to come inside your mouth. You take him deeper and feel the way his sperm shoots in the back of your throat.

"Fuck! Shit, shit..." The not so wide arrange of curse words are the only thing Harry is capable of saying as he dumps his load inside your mouth. The fact that you were so adamant about having his sperm in your mouth made his orgasm even more intense.

Your mouth lets go of his cock with an exaggerated plop, and you swallow every last bit of him, grinning at his fucked out face.

"That was... amazing." He sighs, his gaze flicking from your mouth to your eyes. You hum in agreement, and get up from the floor as he pulls up his pants. You are about to walk away, when Harry grabs your wrist.

"Where are you going?"

"Home." You answer with a smile, but Harry's grip on you only tightens. He shakes his head, his lips pouting.

"No, you need to stay. Let me make you feel good too." He protests. You squint your eyes at him.

"I don't need to do anything."

Harry's eyes widen. "You're right. But just let me make you feel good before you go, please? It's the least I can do."

Your mouth slowly forms into a grin, glad to have him where you want. Well, almost.

"Beg me."

Harry scoffs. "Are you serious? I don't really do begging."

You shrug, smiling at him. "That's fine. My vibrator can get me off too."

You take a few steps towards the door, while Harry contemplates his decisions. However, those were all clouded by the sole moment to please you the second you mentioned your vibrator. The image of you getting off like that is too much to bear. He needs to do it for you.

"Stop." He says. You turn around, and walk back to him as he gets out of his chair and gets on his knees. Grabbing your waist, he pulls you closer, his nose digging into your dress. His hands run up and down your legs, and it is making you weak in your knees.

"Please, let me eat you out baby. I'll do anything to make you feel good. I need to taste you so bad, please let me pleasure you."

You swallow, eyelids ready heavy, as you sigh out. "Alright."

Harry grins at your admittance of defeat, and stands up. He leads you to sit on his desk, your dress hiked up. He removes the stuff behind you, so that you can lean back entirely in case you want to, and waltzes over to his chair.

Spreading your legs, he rolls himself closer to you, and assesses your soaking wet panties. Chuckling, he leans to the side and grabs a pair of scissors, before he cuts the skimpy material from your body. You'd say something of it, but the sight of him admiring your pussy like this is too fascinating to interrupt. So, you keep quiet.

When Harry's thumb suddenly presses on your clit and begins to rub it, you can't help but gasp. His touch feels too good, and that blowjob got you really worked up.

"You have no idea how many times I've fantasized about this." Harry says, marveling at how reactive you are being.

"Me too."

His eyebrows rise up. "Yeah? Tell me more, baby."

You bite your lip, too obsessed with the pet name he's given you. It sounds so sexy coming from his mouth. He awaits your response with bright eyes, lazily rubbing your clit.

"Your arms... I'd think about them so much. And your hands, I'd imagine you choking me with them. They're so big..." You begin, and you know that you could go on for hours if you had to tell him about everything you've thought about doing with him, or doing to him.

Harry doesn't say anything, instead responds with two fingers entering your pussy. You moan at the feeling of his large fingers pumping in and out of you. It feels way fuller than your hand already. His two fingers is the equivalent of your three fingers.

"We can definitely make those fantasies come true..." Harry says softly. "But first, let's make you come, hmm?"

You nod, your head falling back and allowing yourself to fully indulge in the pleasure Harry's giving you right now. You let yourself lay on his desk, wrapping your legs around his shoulders.

"Fuck, that feels good– oh fuck!" You shriek out when Harry tongue begins attacking your tongue after he adds a third finger. He speeds up the movements of his hand to match those of his tongue, and holds onto that tempo until your mind can't conjure up any more words to speak to him.

With the control entirely out of your hands, you let Harry guide you to your orgasm, which washes over your body like a tidal wave. You unconsciously push Harry's head further into your pussy with your legs. With an arched back, you moan at the sensitivity of your clit.

Harry lets you take a minute to catch your breath before he pulls on your arms to have you sit up straight. He is smiling sweetly at you, and your heart warms at it.

"You okay?" He asks, kissing your hands. You nod, trying to ignore the flutters in your heart at the way he is being so gentle.

"Thank you for letting me make you feel good, baby." He says, getting up and leaning into your face. His nose brushes against your cheek as he plants his lips on yours. Your arms wrap around Harry's neck as you kiss him deeper, too caught up in how good he feels and how much you want him.

You're never this greedy. You've never felt like you needed a man's cock inside of you. Like it was the only feasible option. You feel it driving you crazy, and you're sure it is the only reason you say— no, ask:

"Please, fuck me."

The grin that forms on Harry's lips makes you feel like you should regret what you said. A grin like that usually belongs on your face in situations like these. But you need him so bad, you don't really care that you are the desperate one this time.

"Oh, you're begging now too, huh?" He says cockily. You glare at him, pissed that he's acknowledging your neediness and mocking you for it too.

"It's alright baby, I'll give it to you. 'M cock's already hard again from watching you come like that. So fucking sexy..." He says. He pulls his pants down and lifts you off the table, turning you around to the glass windows and pushing your hands against them. "Bend over a bit and speak your legs for me, baby."

You do as he says, biting your lip at Harry's hand that pushes away your dress and roams over your ass. He positions his cock at your entrance and pushes himself into you, sighing in pure relief. You shut your eyes tightly at the size of him filling you up.

"Fuck, you feel good baby." He says, slowly beginning to move in and out a bit. You let out a soft 'yes', causing Harry's jaw to clench. He spanks your ass, watching as it bounces from the impact, and his cock twitching at your yelp.

"Perfect fucking ass... perfect fucking girl, aren't you?" He groans, now lazily thrusting into you. He wants to give you time to adjust, but he learns your wishes when you begin to push yourself back into him.

"Ah, I see. Greedy girl wants to speed things up, hmm? Your wish is my command." He mocks, but does speed up his pace. His hands hold your waist as he begins to pound himself into you, your ass shaking at the impact. He spanks your ass again for good measure, obsessed with the way it moves.

You nearly lose yourself in how good it feels, but you know that he can get deeper than this.

"I want to ride you... want to feel you in my tummy." You spit out, hoping he understands what you're saying in your croaky voice.

Harry listens, pulling himself out of you immediately and taking a seat in the chair. You turn around and walk over to him, throwing your legs on both sides of his lap, before grabbing his cock and sinking yourself down on it.

It goes smoother this time, but Harry's really deep now, just like you wanted. The sensation is everything to you, and it isn’t hard to tell how good it feels for him too. Glad to have a bit of the control back, you start to bounce on his cock.

Harry’s eyes travel over your body, fascinated by the way you are moving above him. His hands travel to the straps of your dress and push them down until he can get your tits out of the top part of your dress. He begins to massage them as you keep impaling yourself on his dick over and over again.

"Fuck, daddy, you feel so good... so good for me. Listening to me. Knew this was the best way to fuck you... you love it." You slur happily. Harry nods profusely at your words, jaw clenched and moaning out in pleasure.

"Yes, needed it so bad baby. You're fucking daddy so good..."

You smile at how caught up Harry looks in his pleasure, like he doesn't know what to do with it. You, however, do know what to with it. You grab one of his hands and wrap it around your throat, before you do the same to him. With his hand on your neck and yours on his, you begin to fuck him as fast as you can.

"Ah, fffuck... shit! Holy shit!" He yells out, and automatically thrusts himself up into you, reaching an even further level of deepness you had never thought possible. That along with your hands on each other’s necks, is enough to know that your climaxes are near.

"Come inside me daddy." You pant out, and he does. It is as if your permission set him off. You smile in delight at the feel and knowledge of his cum being so deep inside of you.

You fuck Harry through his orgasm, and even after. He squirms in his seat. "Wait— too sensitive."

"I don't care, I haven't come yet. Don't you want to make me feel good? Have me coming around your thick cock?" You say sensually, and Harry nods. "Words."

"Yes– fuck! I want you to come, please come around my cock. Please, please..." He begins to beg, a tear rolling down his cheek.

Your toes curl at his whiny voice, and soon your juices are gushing all over his cock. Your pussy contracting around him seems to set Harry off even more, as you feel even more sperm spraying out of his dick and into your walls.

You ride out your high until you can't move anymore. You sit there, forehead pressed against Harry's as you both come down from what just happened.

After a minute or two, you decide to pull out. Slowly but surely, you manage to get Harry's dick out of you without hissing too much at the sensitivity of every single body part down there.

You lean against the desk, too wobbly to stand on your own, and you let Harry wipe you clean with the tissues on his desk. After cleaning himself up, he stands up and positions himself in front of you.

"Hey." He says. Your hand cups his jaw and your thumb wipes away the tear that is far down his face now.

"Hi." You tilt your head. The both of you burst out laughing, still surprised by what went down just now.

"That was really good." He says once the laughter has died down. You nod in agreement.

"Good enough for a repeat?"

Harry pretends to think it over, before he responds: "under one condition."

"And what would that be?" You quirk up an eyebrow, intrigued by his vagueness. He smiles at you so wide that you wonder if his mouth might be hurting.

"You let me take you out on a date first."

You roll your eyes, pretending not to be amused as he chuckles at your reaction. But the second you see the look on his face and the sincerity behind it, you realize that he is being quite serious about this request. You bite your lip, wanting to kiss him right then and there.

"I would love that."

2K notes · View notes

chunghasweetie · 4 months

Text

𝐂𝐀𝐍’𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐆𝐎 | J.JK

— part 2

— pairing | dom!oc x nerdy sub!jjk

— summary | loser nerd jk has crushed on her for years and is assigned to be her college tutor for her calculus class. studying doesn’t go exactly as planned and he ends up losing his virginity in the best way possible.

— warning | bad writing (i’m doing my best)

virginity loss, cussing, corruption kink, female dom, light dirty talk, belittling, dick sucking, unprotected sex, etc

— word count | 3.5k words

— song suggestion | rush — william singe

His nerves were tingling with anxiety. He had imagined a day like this since he laid eyes on her.

His crush first stemmed from middle school. Then it followed him through high school, and now his college career.

Y/n had always been the typical token super pretty and popular girl. She was funny too, he couldn’t help but giggle to himself when she was making jokes with her friends across the room.

Jungkook was beyond nervous. He’s had a crush on her forever, and now he was standing in front of her home for their very first tutoring session.

Jungkook had arrived at Y/n’s home, exhaling to himself. “I can do this.” He mumbled before knocking on her door.

The door opened and there she was. A short denim mini skirt and a matching top.

He was already done for.

“Oh hey Jungkook.” She smiled, “You’re here already. I didn’t think you’d be early. Come in.”

He feels his heart skip a beat as Y/n opens the door, a genuine smile spreading across his face.

“H-hi! Yes, it's me” He clears his throat. “Thank you for inviting me inside.” He steps inside, taking in the sight of her apartment.

“Of course.” She led him to the dining room table her hips swaying in her mini skirt that showed off her figure beautifully.

His eyes widen and follow her every move, watching as she leads him to the dining room table.

He can't help but feel a rush of excitement as he takes in the sight of her hips swaying in her skirt.

He had never imagined they’d be in such a small space. Alone with her. His heart could almost explode with excitement.

Her home didn’t look much like the google maps photos like he seen online.

“Is right here okay?” She asked him, her table with the notebooks and studying material she needed already set up.

He swallows hard and nods, feeling his cheeks heat up. “I-It’s fine.”

The two sat at her table studying, Jungkook using more complex language than she was used to.

She could grasp some of it, but Y/n wasn’t necessarily the strongest in the subject.

“I’ve always sucked at math. Let alone calculus.” She laughed. “It must be nice to know everything.”

He chuckles nervously, shaking his head. “No, not everything. Just... some things. Math is definitely my strong suit.” He takes a deep breath, gathering his composure before turning his attention to her math homework “Okay, let's continue.”

She simply nodded. She leaned closer to him, reading the book that was further in his direction.

Her breasts were huge. He wondered how her posture managed to stay so straight with those jugs weighing her down.

Her right breast was pressed against his shoulder, driving him crazy.

He tries to focus on the homework, but finds himself distracted by her low cut top and her large breasts on view.

He can't help but glance, feeling his face flush with embarrassment as he realizes she might notice. “Uh, so... uh...”

“Are you okay?” Y/n asked him.

“Yes.” He cleared his throat.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, yes I'm fine. It's just... uh... hot in here.” He tries to refocus on her homework assignment, but his mind keeps drifting to her body and how close she's standing next to him.

“I’ll go turn the ac on” She got up, hips swaying as she went to turn on the AC. She eventually came back. “Better?” She sat back down.

‘Someone kill me.’ Jungkook thought to himself.

He tries to focus on the books and studying material, but his gaze keeps drifting back to her exposed thighs and the way her skirt rides up

He nods, grateful for the cooler air. He watches as she sits back down next to him, hips swaying in a way that makes his heart race.

“This is so hard” She groaned. “Calculus is so difficult.”

He nods in agreement, trying to stifle a smile at her cute groan. “Yeah, uh... It can be tough sometimes.”

He starts going over the problem with her, letting his hand rest on hers gently as he points out what she did wrong.

“I think it’s the table.” She tells him. “I focus more on my bed, it’s where I’m most comfortable. Jungkook, would you be okay studying there with me?” Y/n suggested.

His heart races at the thought of having her in a more private setting, but he knows he shouldn't let his crush get the best of him.

He nods and starts gathering the homework assignments and books. “Yeah— sure, let's move to the couch.”

She smirked to herself on the way to her bedroom. Her plan was working perfectly, and working quicker than she expected.

His eyes widened at her room. He was finally inside. He always seen a few corners when he was stalking her Instagram late at night, but now being there in person sent him over the edge.

It was so her. The decorations, the layout, the scent. It was perfectly her.

“Much better” She sat down on her bed, starting to write in her notes with him.

He watches as she writes, trying not to get too distracted by the way her hair falls over her shoulders and the way she bites her lip in concentration.

He clears his throat and starts going over the problems again, trying to focus on the homework instead of his crush.

About an hour had passed of them studying, and she was beyond bored. Y/n was over hearing about stupid questions she had no interest in finding the solution for.

“Like I said, when you plug in the formula—“

“Don’t you have a girlfriend waiting on you?” Y/n interrupted him. “You’ve been here for a while.”

“I-I don’t have one.” He swallowed. “And I told the professor I’d spend as much time as needed for you to pass.”

He was still talking about school, making her boredom increase. “Do you do anything outside of school?” She changed the topic.

He blinks at her, surprised by the sudden question. He fidgets with his glasses and stammers a bit before answering. “I...I go to the internet cafe with my friends and do coding and stuff.. I help code games and such. It's...it's not very exciting, but it keeps me busy.”

“Cute.” She chuckled. “So you’re like a full time nerd?”

He blushes at her teasing and nods, looking down at his hands. “Y-yes, I suppose you could say that. I do enjoy learning and electronics...and working on computers gives me a chance to use my skills to help others. It's...it's important to me.“

“Is that why you’re single?” She asked him. “Too busy studying and programming?”

He nodded.

Wasn’t necessarily the entire truth. Some of the other girls at the cafe definitely took an interest but he was all about you.

He was a quiet guy but he always spoke up about you. All of his friends at the internet cafe knew about his crush on you. He would be teased daily because well, look at him and you.

He didn’t care. He knew from the start it wasn’t realistic considering the crowds you stuck around with.

Jungkook would rather be at home with his computer while you’d be parting with sororities and frat boys.

“You’re a busy guy hm? Well when was the last time you’ve had a girlfriend?” Y/n asked him, moving the text books as she inched closer.

“I-I— Well.” He swallowed, “I’ve never had one before..” He itched the back of his neck.

Her eyes widened. “You can’t be serious.”

“It just— never happened.” He told her.

“That’s just so hard to believe.” She analyzed him with her feline like eyes.. “I think you’re really handsome and cute.”

“Really?” His voice came out a lot louder than he meant to, clearing his throat. “Y-You do?”

She nodded, “I always have.” She suddenly climbed on his lap, making Jungkook let out a slight gasp in surprise.

He looks up at her in surprise, his heart beating faster at her words. He stammers out a thank you, feeling his face heat up again. “I...I'm...I'm glad you think so...”

“It’s okay if I sit here right?” She asked, making him nod rather quickly.

“Good.” She giggled. “So you’ve never had a girlfriend… you at least have lost your virginity right?”

Jungkook looked away shyly. “N-No..”

She had always had the reputation of being the popular pretty girl. Her entire friend group and social circle was like that. So naturally it was expected for her to end up with a frat guy.

Y/n had been with a few, and was absolutely bored out of her mind. They were cocky and disgusting, seeming to like their bros more than actual women.

She had no interest in anyone like that.

She always had a thing for nerdy and loser men who looked like they had never had a chance with losing their virginity.

Her friends were always teasing her about her type. No one could understand how she could really be attracted to a guy like that.

Y/n noticed Jungkook towards her sophomore year of high school. He had always been attractive to her but she really took a notice to him at that time.

He was tall, handsome, and quiet. Super shy. The only time she had seen him really talk was during a history presentation when he had to read off some slides.

Her horny teenage brain definitely took notice towards the bulge in his pants whenever she looked his way.

Y/n was always with her friend group and Jungkook was always in way better and smarter classes than her. He never had any social media either, so she never had the chance to really make a move on him.

It was now their junior year in college and once she heard he was assigned to be her tutor, she had to do something.

Jungkook had hardly ever kissed a girl. A girl pecked his lips in his junior year of high school and he absolutely hated it.

Hated it because it wasn’t her.

She shifts on his lap. “That’s so cute. Are you waiting for someone to take it?”

He nodded quickly. He was hard as a rock. Her skirt was practically all the way lifted as she sat on his lap, driving him insane.

“Mm I’d be honored to volunteer.” She suggested.

“T-Take it— P-please.” He was practically whimpering out to her.

She didn’t waste her time, leaning forward to kiss his lips. She wasn’t too rough on him, but she definitely was working her lips on his.

“Gonna make you feel real good.” She smacked her lips against his, grabbing his hands, placing them over her ass cheeks. “Grab it okay?”

Jungkook bent his fingers, now holding her ass in his hands.

She traveled her lips down to the crook of his neck, creating a trail of dark hickeys.

Y/n was grinding on his lap with her skirt on as she marked up his neck. “No hickeys before either?”

There was no way this was really happening. Jungkook could go into shock. This was even better than he had ever imagined.

His breathing becomes heavier and heavier as she grinds on his lap, feeling the friction between their bodies.

He moans as she marks up his neck, his mind clouded with pleasure. He whimpers as she asks about hickeys, shaking his head slightly. “N-no...”

“You’re so much more vocal than I imagined. and I’m just kissing you.” She giggled.

He blushes profusely as she speaks about his vocalness, feeling embarrassed at how turned on he is by her touch.

He looks up at her as she pulls away from his neck, seeing the marks she left on his skin.

“So cute..” She pulled away from his neck. “All marked up, it looks intense.” She grabbed her handheld mirror, showing him what she did to him.

He gulps, reaching up to touch them gently. seeing the marks she left on his skin. He gulps, reaching up to touch them gently.

“You’re comfy right baby?” She asked him, making sure he was at ease while she tainted him.

“I-I’m fine.” He shakes his head, leaning into her touch as she runs her fingers through his hair. “N-no... it just... makes me want more... of you...” He confesses, feeling vulnerable and honest in front of her.

“You’re more than ready to lose your virginity huh baby?” She baby talked him. “Poor baby wants to be touched so bad.”

He blushes deeply at her words, nodding slowly. He's been a virgin for so long and he wants nothing more than to experience it with her.

“Y-yes...” He stammers, his voice barely above a whisper. I want to... be with you...”

“I’m almost there sweetheart. You’re doing so good being patient for me.” She comforted, seeing how whiny and desperate he was. It didn’t help that he was incredibly hard under her.

Her praises were driving him insane and she hadn’t even took his pants off yet. “Wha— What now?” He asks softly, hoping he doesn't sound too desperate.

She was practically drooling over the sight of him. His dick had been teasing her for centuries through his jeans, and she finally had it at her disposal.

He lets out a involuntary gasp as she unzips his pants and pulls out his dick. He blushes as she compliments him on his size. He never thought anyone would say that about him. “I-it's not that big...”

“You’re so humble.” She smirked. “I don’t even think I’ll be able to fit it inside me or my mouth.” She chuckled. “Let me know if it’s too much. Mm gonna sit on it first okay? Don’t have a condom so you’re going to have to pull out when you feel it okay?”

He nodded eagerly. “I-I’ll try my best.”

“That’s all I can ask of you.” She latched her lips onto his lips once more before sliding herself onto him, making their lips disconnect from their moans.

He was a mess from the start. Her pussy was so tight and wet, driving him insane.

He had always imagined what it would feel like but this was even better.

“O-Oh wow.” He whined, “F-Feels so t-tight”

Y/n bounced on him slowly, allowing him to feel all of her.

“It’s good huh baby?” Y/n cooed. “You’re so big baby”

“Mmph— it’s so wet—“ He whimpered.

He lets out a gasp, his hands instinctively reaching out to grab onto her hips for support. "F-fuck!"

She was moving her hips in a rhythmic motion that sent waves of pleasure coursing through his entire body. He moans softly, biting his lip to keep from making too much noise.

Y/n took a notice of his actions. “Don’t want you being quiet. I’ve waited so long to have you like this.” She stopped moving on top of him.

Jungkook's eyes snap open as Y/n stops moving, his cock throbbing with need and frustration at the sudden lack of stimulation.

He looks up at her with a desperate expression, pleading for her to continue with his actions. "P-please..."

She grabbed his neck subtly, not enough to really hurt him. She turned his chin to the side, “Covered you in so many hickeys, all for you to be quiet now?”

Jungkook's heart races as Y/n grabs his neck, a small whimper escaping his lips at the touch. He looks at her with a mixture of surprise and arousal, his mind racing at the sudden change in her demeanor. "I-I'm sorry...”

“What’re you going to do differently if I keep moving?” She growled into his ear. “Tell me. Use that pretty mouth.”

Jungkook's breath hitches as Y/n growls in his ear, his heart pounding in his chest. He swallows hard, trying to find the words to answer her question. "I-I'll... I'll make more noise...”

“Good boy…” She began moving again, “Mm— feels so good” Y/n moaned into his ear.

Jungkook's eyes roll back in pleasure as Y/n begins moving again, her moans in his ear sending chills down his spine.

He grips the sheets beneath him tightly, his body trembling with need as she bouncing on him. "F-fuck...I— never imagined p-pussy would be this good”

His desperate pleas sent her over the edge. She loved how he was so whiny and desperate all for her.

“Never baby?” She hummed, her voice sensually whispering against his ear.

Jungkook lets out a low groan as Y/n’s words register in his head, his mind filled with filthy thoughts. He nods his head, unable to find the words to speak. "N-no... I never thought... f-fuck..."

He was absolutely pussydrunk, the feeling of his cock being sunk into her pussy made him go insane.

If he was already obsessed with her before, he knew he was absolutely fucked now. “I-I m-might… mmgh…”

She knew how lost he was in her pussy, knowing he was close to cumming at any second.

She quickly got up off his cock, making him whimper at the sudden separation.

“Can’t have you cum inside baby.” She hushed him, knowing he was about to complain.

“I-I want to cum so bad— Please let me” He whined.

“You’re gonna cum baby. I wouldn’t do that to you.” She made her way off his lap.

She got in between his legs and on her knees. “Gonna suck you off pretty boy.”

She had no problem sucking him off after he was just inside of her. She opened her mouth, licking his tip to test the waters.

He can't help but moan as she licks his tip. He doesn't know what came over him, he bites his lip as she starts bobbing her head up and down on him.

He lets out a deep moan as she takes him all in. He's never felt anything like this before. He tries to hold back, but he can feel himself already getting close. He whined, warning her that he's about to cum.

She let him cum all in her mouth, not dare wasting a single drop as she swallowed.

He couldn’t believe what just happened. He's cumming in her mouth and she's swallowing every drop. He's never felt so satisfied in his life. He pulls out and pants. “Thank you... that was amazing.”

He was so infatuated with her. He had been beating his dick for years, whining and whimpering in his bedroom at merely the idea of his dick being sucked by her.

He blushes and stutters, trying to find the words. He can't believe what just happened.

“Y-you.. it was... amazing. I don't know what to say. Thank you.” He turns to face her, his eyes filled with gratitude as he repeated his thanks.

The two hung out for a bit longer, actually getting her tutoring done. She giggled. “i’ll see you at school tomorrow.” She waved as they bid their goodbyes.

He smiles and nods, still in shock about what happened. “Y-yeah, see you then.” He watches her shut the door, his heart racing with excitement. He can't believe she just sucked his dick, took his virginity, and then he was back to tutoring her.

His dreams finally came true.

༊—

The next day she was walking with her friends, and seemed to pass Jungkook’s friends group. She could hear Jungkook’s friends teasing him.

“Bro you have a hickey?!” They stared at his neck in amazement, adjusting their glasses to look closely.

Like stated, they were nobodies. All of them. Never had any interactions with women in their lives.

Jungkook covers his neck with his hand, trying to hide the hickey. He didn't realize it was so obvious, but he's glad he got it. He can't stop thinking about last night and her. “Sh-shut up gu-guys!”

His face turns bright red, shushing them and trying to avoid any more attention. “F-Fuck this is embarrassing.” He can't help but think about her again and the amazing time they had last night. He's already looking forward to seeing her again and continuing their tutoring sessions.

Y/n’s friends looked over at the boys. “What do you think that’s all about?” They asked amongst themselves.

“Why does it matter? Probably just some boring video game release. Or maybe a new textbook was added to the library!” One of the girls laughed.

Y/n couldn’t help but chuckle to herself, knowing damn well there would be more where that came from.

#bts smut #jungkook fic recs #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook #jungkook fluff #sub jjk #jjk x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook fiction #jungkook fake texts #dom oc

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lixzey · 11 months

Text

forever yours.

one two

Timothée Chalamet, cheating on Kylie Jenner? The Wonka actor was spotted kissing an unknown woman in Los Angeles!

You stared at the article on your phone, your hands shaking. You knew you shouldn't think about it; after all, you and Timothée have been dating for four years, and he loves you—only you. But nobody knew that, though. He was a world-famous actor, and you were someone who just so happened to have his heart. You two had decided to keep the relationship low-key and private, away from the chaotic world of Hollywood. Nobody outside of both of your families and friends knew who you were or what you looked like.

You sighed, plopping down on the bed in your boyfriend's apartment. You have been living with him for the last two years, and you loved every bit of it. Timothée was the sweetest boyfriend; he loved to spoil you. He gives you everything that you deserve and more—his words, not yours. You couldn't ask for anything more; you were happily content with the love of your life.

But you still can't brush off the fact that in this story, you were the bad guy.

It all started in December 2022, when Timothée was forced to date Kylie Jenner. His management thought that it would be beneficial for him, seeing that Kylie was Forbes' youngest self-made billionaire and had tons of fans, maybe more than Timothée had. At first, your boyfriend was reluctant. He didn't want to date anyone else other than you. You two argued, but in the end, you convinced him that it would be good for his career.

Timothée signed the contract, and he was obligated to date the youngest daughter of Kris Jenner.

It started with little appearances like Kylie showing up at your home, and you had to leave or hide because there were paparazzis all over the perimeter of your house. Your boyfriend was absolutely apologetic that you had to pretend that you were not his, and it broke his heart to see you smile from the sidelines.

You assured him that everything's alright. You were okay with everything, as long as, at the end of the day, he came back home to you.

Some Timothée's fans were hopelessly praying that it was all some sort of PR stunt—which it actually was, but you signed a non-disclosure agreement. You had no choice but to keep it to yourself. Their 'relationship' went on and on, giving the people the benefit of the doubt.

Until early September, when the PR team decided that it was time to make it public.

You were a little bit heartbroken when you saw it on social media. It was at Beyoncé's birthday concert, a celebrity-studded event, which made it the perfect opportunity to show off their relationship. The way Kylie Jenner had her hands all over your man made your blood boil. Timothée looked uncomfortable, but he didn't have any other choice. You wanted to go and just punch that plastic woman for having her claws all over your boyfriend, but you couldn't do anything. You hated it, but you couldn't bring yourself to admit it. Because if you did, Timothée would drop it before you could even say no.

The way your boyfriend has his arms wrapped around that plastic bitch made you want to slap her and tear off all the plastic she had in her fake body. The way she kissed your man made you want to feed her to the sharks in the Atlantic Ocean. The way your boyfriend had his hand over her ass made you want to go and make a deal with the devil to rid the world of that woman, and maybe chop off your boyfriend's hands while you're at it. But again, you couldn't do a thing. You were left to watch while another woman pawed at your man.

Timothée did everything to make it up to you. He would always assure you that it was all for show and nothing more. He loved you, only you, and he would never dream of hurting you. You knew that, of course, but you can't help getting annoyed by it—you won't tell him that though, because you couldn't.

But now you were a homewrecker, a slut.

Apparently, someone saw you and your boyfriend kissing. It was your fourth anniversary. Timothée had brought you to your favorite restaurant in Los Angeles and was enjoying the night, celebrating four years of love. After a bit of wine, he kissed you, like he always did—momentarily forgetting his 'girlfriend'.

The next day, the photo of you and your boyfriend kissing was all over the internet. People were calling you a homewrecker, a slut, a whore, and more. You practically had death threats filling up semi-trucks. People were telling you who you are, and you didn't have a choice, all because you loved Timothée.

All of this for what? Celebrating four years with the man you love?

You buried your face in your hands, trying to muffle your sobs. You felt like the whole world was against you, like you were the villain in some twisted fairytale. What did you do to even deserve any of this? You just wanted to be with your man, but the world had other plans.

“Mon amour? Are you here?” A voice echoed from downstairs. You wiped away the tears from your eyes, putting on another fake smile as you walked down.

“Hey, love. Are you hungry?” You asked, voice breaking. Timothée looked at you, and you knew he knew something was wrong. You mentally kicked yourself for being so utterly stupid.

“What's wrong, mon amour?” Timothée asked, stepping forward and wrapping you in his arms.

“Nothing, it's alright.” You lied. You were getting pretty good at lying, not that you were proud of it.

Timothée sighed, his arms wrapping you tighter against his body. “Y/n, please, baby. I know something's wrong; you've been crying.” You could hear his heartbeat, the loud thumping in his chest calming you. You sighed loudly, burying your face into his chest, the smell of his cologne invading your nostrils. You pulled away abruptly, and the look of confusion on his face made your heart wrench inside your chest.

“I'm okay, don't worry.”

Timothée cupped your face in his hands, your eyes meeting his. “Y/n, please, mon amour. Just tell me, I just want to help.”

You took a deep breath. It was now or never. “Have you seen the tabloids?”

Timothée sighed, knowing it was about his fake relationship again. “Can you tell me what it is, baby? I'm sorry I haven't checked out the news.”

“It's just....it's silly, honestly.”

“It's not silly if it's bothering you, my love.”

“Someone saw us kissing yesterday, and it's all over the tabloids.” you mumbled, your eyes glued to the floor.

“Oh, baby,” Timothée whispered. “I'm so sorry; I dragged you into this. It's all my fault.” he muttered.

Your heart broke when he said it was his fault. It wasn't; it was the people who were quick to judge. “It isn't your fault, Tim.”

“It is, baby. I shouldn't have agreed to that PR stunt. I should've just turned it down and spent all of my time with you instead-” You cut him off with your lips crashing with his. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he deepened the kiss. You felt all of your worries evaporate into thin air, and all that mattered was him. The man you have spent four years with, the man you see a future with.

You pulled away, making him growl as the feeling of your lips left his. You chuckled, kissing him on the cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you more, baby. But….”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “But what, baby?” You asked worriedly.

“Can I see what the article says? And anything else related to it?”

Your eyes widened slightly. It was one thing for you to read all of those horrid things people have written about you, but Timothée? He would break at the words people have said about you, and you couldn't live with him thinking his fans were horrible to the woman he loves.

“Baby….”

“Please, mon amour? You don't deserve to get all the hate.”

You playfully raised an eyebrow, trying to diffuse the tension. “Who said I was getting hate?”

Timothée chuckled. “I know Hollywood.”

You let out a deep sigh as you rubbed your temples. “It's horrible, mon amour.”

“I don't care; I still love you no matter what.”

“You really want to read it?”

“Yes, I do.”

You opened your phone and showed him one of the videos on TikTok about the articles.

timmyfan1: omg timmy cheated on kylie with her? yuck, homewrecker.

kyliestan_: such a slut, going after someone else's boyfriend.

timotheestan: die bitch

– timobaby: yeah, go die in a ditch you slut.

– kyjennerbaby: not timothée's fans wanting the girl to die 😭

timotheechalamalabingbong: not timothée throwing away his relationship and career for this girl 😭

kyliebaby: poor kylie, got her heart broken by this douchebag

jennersisters: anyone want to help me find that girl and slap the shit outta her?

– user1: count me in!

– user2: me too! i'm gonna drag that little bitch down

“I'm so sorry, mon amour,” Timothée whispered as he turned the phone off. “You don't deserve any of this.”

You smiled sadly at him. “I know, but this is nothing.”

“No, it's not nothing. They want you to die, and that's not okay…”

“I don't have any plans on dying, Timmy.” You chuckled.

"But…but...”

"No buts. I know it hurts, but we have to live with it. I have to live with it. You'll just have to focus on your career, okay?”

Timothée sighed in defeat. “You're the most precious person in this world; you don't deserve this.”

“And you know it.” You smiled, grabbing his hand in yours. “I don't care about their words anymore, as long as I have you.”

“I don't deserve you.”

“You do; you deserve me and more.” You chuckled, kissing his knuckles. “I love you, no matter what.”

“I love you, Y/n, I love you so fucking much.” Timothée planted a soft kiss on your lips before pulling you again to his chest. “I'm yours, forever yours.”

You sighed contentedly, melting at his touch, feeling comfort and love in your boyfriend's arms. The only thing that mattered in that moment was you and him; no one could ever take away your happiness.

Your boyfriend, your Timothée, yours.

@helens3amstuff @gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @tchalamss @tchalamss @ashlynnmalfoy @crazycat-ladys-blog @michakune @mxltifxnd0m @spencerr3idd @dangelnleif @sthkate @ferrjulie @imnotoverlyobsessive @mel-vaz @elsagreeer @lovely-maryj @meowmeowmau @bobthe-turmpetman29 @saintcosette

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pucksandpower · 4 months

Text

Worlds Apart

Max Verstappen x Sargeant!Reader

Summary: everyone seems to have something to say about your relationship with Max, but at the end of the day all that matters is the two of you

Warnings: Jos Verstappen

Based on a request by @butterflyexe

The sorority house is pulsing with noise — music, laughter, the clink of plastic cups. You weave through the crowd, feeling very much out of place amongst the scantily clad co-eds. Your sundress and sandals seem prudish in comparison.

“Y/N! There you are!” Chelsea, your big sister in Kappa Alpha Theta, comes barreling over with a few of her friends in tow. “We were just talking about you.”

You eye them warily. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, like how you’re totally wasting your college experience pining over some old race car driver instead of playing the field.” Chelsea’s friend, Brittany, smirks as she takes a sip of her drink.

You bristle at that. “Max is not old! He’s only 26.”

“Exactly,” Chelsea says, putting an arm around your shoulders. “You’re a sophomore dating a whole ass man who’s nearly 30. It’s weird.”

“No it’s not!” You protest, shrugging off her arm. “We’ve been together over a year. I really like him.”

“Like him?” Brittany scoffs. “Wake up, Y/N. He’s an international celebrity dating a little college student. You’re just his side piece.”

The words hit like a slap to the face. “That’s not true!”

“Then why does he never post about you on social media?” Chelsea counters. “I follow him and you’re never on his accounts.”

“We just value our privacy,” you mumble, but her words have sown seeds of doubt.

Chelsea gives you a pitying look. “Honey, I’m just trying to watch out for you. There are so many great guys here on campus that would treat you right.”

Your eyes narrow at the dig. “You mean like those meathead frat bros that never shut up about their high school glory days? No thanks.”

The girls all gasp in mock offense. Brittany steps closer, using her height advantage to loom over you. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, talking about our men like that.”

“Yeah?” You stand your ground, hands on your hips. “Well maybe if they acted like men instead of immature little boys, I wouldn’t have to.”

A hush falls over the nearby crowd, all eyes on your confrontation. Brittany looks murderous until one of her sidekicks tugs her sleeve, murmuring “Let’s go, it’s not worth it.” She sneers at you one last time before stalking off, leaving you and Chelsea alone.

Your big sister sighs, rubbing her temples. “Why are you so hell-bent on making this hard on yourself, Y/N? Max is a world away, both physically and in terms of life experience. You could have any guy at this school eating out of the palm of your hand. Why not take advantage of that?”

Her words are salt in the wound. You blink back tears, fighting to keep your voice steady. “Because I love Max. He makes me incredibly happy. And yeah, the distance is hard and he’s older and more established in his career. But he’s kind and smart and we just … connect, you know? I’ve never felt this way about anyone else.”

Chelsea shakes her head pityingly. “I’m just trying to watch out for you. I’d hate to see you get your heart broken over some long-distance fling.”

“It’s not a fling!” You’re sick of trying to convince everyone. Pushing past her, you storm out of the suffocating house and into the cool night air. Gulping it down, you sink down onto the steps, chest heaving with anger and hurt and frustration.

Alone at last, you let the tears come. You know the doubts eating at you are unfair — Max has been nothing but devoted and caring throughout your relationship, even with his insanely busy schedule. But the fears voiced by Chelsea and her crew have burrowed under your skin. Maybe you are just a naive little plaything for him. Maybe he’ll eventually get bored and move on to someone more sophisticated and on his level.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket — a FaceTime call from the man in question himself. You fumble to answer it, swiping hastily at your damp cheeks. “H-Hey you.”

“There’s my gorgeous girl!” His bright smile fills the screen, momentarily banishing your worries. “I only have a few minutes before FP1, but I couldn’t wait to see that pretty face.”

You can’t help but return his warm grin, though it doesn’t quite meet your eyes. “I miss you so much, Max.”

His brow furrows at your tone. “What’s wrong, liefje? You sound upset.”

You want to brush it off, but maybe this is your chance to finally get those nagging fears off your chest. “It’s just … things have been rough lately with the girls. They keep saying I’m wasting my time with you, that you’re going to leave me for someone else, that I’m just a naive little girl you’re using for fun.”

He’s silent for a long moment, then curses under his breath. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. That must be really hard to deal with, on top of the distance.”

“It is,” you admit, blinking back fresh tears. “And as much as I try to ignore them and have faith in us, their words have started to get to me. I mean … why don’t you ever post about me on social media? Do you not want the world to know about me?”

A shadow crosses his features. Clearly he’s heard this criticism before. “My reasons for keeping my relationships private have nothing to do with you, okay? I keep that part of my life off social media to avoid a media frenzy and protect the people I care about.” His expression softens. “But you better believe everyone important in my life knows about you — my family, my closest mates. Hell, the whole Red Bull garage is sick of hearing me go on and on about how amazing my girl is.”

You can’t help but laugh through your tears, some of the weight lifting off your chest. “Really?”

“Of course!” He chuckles. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, Y/N. No matter how far apart we are or what anyone else says, you’re the only one I want.”

Your cheeks flush at his heart-melting words. In that moment, you don’t care about your snotty sorority sisters or the distance or anything else — just being completely in love with this amazing man. “I wish you were here,” you murmur, drinking in every detail of his face. “I miss holding you so damn much.”

Max’s eyes crinkle at the corners. “Maybe you can show me how much later tonight, when we’re all alone to video call properly?”

You giggle and smack your hand over the camera, feeling suddenly shy. “Max Verstappen, you incorrigible flirt!”

“You love it.” His voice takes on a deeper, huskier tone that sends tingles down your spine. “And you’re going to love what I have planned for your next visit even more ...”

You spend the next few giddy minutes shamelessly flirting back and forth, soaking up precious moments of intimacy through the phone line to sustain you until you can be together again. When his race engineer appears in the background, beckoning him to the track, you’re both full of regretful sighs.

“Duty calls,” Max says wistfully. “But I’ll call you later, okay? We can pick up where we left off ...” He waggles his eyebrows mischievously.

You can’t stop your face-splitting grin. “I’ll be counting the minutes.”

“Bye schatje. Love you to the moon and back.”

“Love you too!” You clutch the phone to your chest after he disconnects, completely lovestruck. All your insecurities have melted away under the heat of Max’s devoted words and that heart-stopping smile.

It’s going to be okay.

He chose you — Y/N Sargeant, sophomore student, for all your flaws and relative immaturity. And you’ve never felt luckier.

Spirits lifted, you bound back into the house and upstairs to your bedroom. You’ll ignore Chelsea and her nasty friends for the rest of the night, instead losing yourself in daydreams of the next time you’ll be wrapped in Max’s strong arms.

Your relationship may be a long-distance whirlwind, but you’re all in and you’ve never been happier. Let the other sorority girls whisper — you’ve snagged yourself a keeper.

***

Max drains the last of his water bottle as he exits the Red Bull garage, sweat still beading on his brow from the qualifying session. He stretches his arms over his head with a satisfied groan — even after all these years in Formula 1, there’s no better feeling than pushing a car to its limits on the track.

“Max! A word, if you please.”

He cringes at the familiar bark, turning to find his father bearing down on him like a storm cloud. So much for basking in the post-qualifying glow. “Yeah, what’s up?”

Jos’ mouth presses into a grim line, eyes smoldering behind the lenses of his sunglasses. “Well, for one, I saw that interview of yours from yesterday making the rounds online.”

Max fights the urge to roll his eyes. Of course his old man would find something to criticize. “And? I thought it was pretty standard, nothing controversial.”

“Oh, I’m sure you didn’t mean it to be controversial.” Jos sneers the word like a curse. “But dodging questions about your girlfriend and claiming you prefer to keep your private life private? It’s only going to stoke more media speculation and rumors.”

“Is that so bad?” Max counters. “I like to keep things out of the spotlight as much as I can. You know how ravenous the press is.”

“Don’t play dumb with me, son.” Jos steps closer, his voice lowering to a dangerous hiss. “I know exactly who this girl of yours is.”

Max feels his hackles rising at his dad’s dismissive tone when speaking about you. He opens his mouth to retort, but Jos barrels on.

“First it was that damn Kelly Piquet and her baggage, and now you’ve upgraded to jailbait? What is it with you and dating either old hags or naive teenagers, Max?”

“That’s enough!” Max snarls, feeling his face flush with anger. “How dare you talk about them like that, especially Y/N. She’s an incredible woman, and our age gap means nothing.”

Jos scoffs loudly. “Come off it, boy! She’s just a child, a nobody playing at being a WAG. You were born for greatness, bred to be a champion. Why on earth would you hitch your wagon to some college bimbo barely out of nappies?”

It’s like a red mist descends over Max’s vision at his father’s vile words about you. Before he can stop himself, his fist lashes out and connects squarely with Jos’ jawbone, sending the older man stumbling back.

“Don’t you ever speak about her that way again,” Max seethes, cradling his throbbing hand. “Y/N is ten times the person you’ll ever be. Smart, mature, driven as hell —she’s going to accomplish incredible things someday, whether you respect her or not.”

Jos regains his footing, clutching the blooming bruise on his cheek and glaring daggers at his son. “How dare you strike me, you ungrateful little shit! I gave you everything — the training, the opportunities, the sacrifices to get you to this level. And this is how you repay me?”

Max refuses to be baited, meeting his father’s glare with stony resolution. “Maybe if you didn’t insist on being such a hateful, miserable bastard all the time, I wouldn’t have to. All I want is for you to be civil and show some respect. Is that too much to ask?”

He huffs out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. “But that’s not your way, is it? You’d rather condemn me for daring to find happiness with someone, just because she’s younger or doesn’t fit into your narrow ideas of what my life should look like. Well, I’ve got a newsflash for you. It’s my fucking life and I’ll live it however I damn well please.”

Jos opens his mouth, undoubtedly to fire off more vitriol, but Max cuts him off with a raised hand. He’s said his piece, expending the last of his energy and patience dealing with his father’s bullheadedness — at least for today. Right now, all he wants is to retreat somewhere quiet and let his thoughts drift across the ocean to you.

“Save it. I’m done arguing.” He turns on his heel and stalks away, Jos shouting insults at his retreating back.

Don’t react, don’t react. His jaw clenches almost painfully as he navigates the familiar path back to his driver’s room, typing out a quick message.

You free to chat soon, gorgeous? Need to hear your voice.

The reply comes almost instantly. For you, always. Give me 20 mins? ❤️

He can’t stop the surge of warmth at your words, the tension slowly draining from his shoulders. That’s his girl — always knowing exactly what he needs, even from thousands of miles away. And isn’t that what matters most of all?

After showering and changing into casual sweats and a t-shirt, Max sinks onto the small couch placed against the wall, pillows arranged just so to prop up his aching back and shoulders. He picks up his phone and dials your number, heart rate kicking up a notch in eager anticipation.

After what feels like an eternity but is surely only a few rings, your face fills the screen. You must have just gotten back from class — your hair is tousled and loose, your makeup-free skin flushed and glowing in the South Florida sun.

“Well hey there, handsome.” Your teasing smirk dissipates as you get a better look at him. “Max? Are you okay? You look exhausted.”

“I am now,” he manages, relief already washing over him at the simple sight of you. He drinks in every last detail like a man parched. “Just had a bit of a run-in with my dad and needed an escape.”

Concern flashes in your warm eyes. “Oh no, what happened?”

So he tells you — the interview rumors, his dad ambushing him and lobbing insults, the explosive fight that caused him to lose his cool and strike the first blow. You listen with sympathy, every encouraging nod and murmured reassurance calming his frazzled nerves until the story is spent, leaving him strangely at peace.

“Thank you for sharing all that with me, babe,” you say once he’s finished. Your voice is gentle but firm. “I’m sorry Jos was so out of line, but you were totally right to stand up to him. Nobody gets to dismiss our relationship or talk about you like that.”

Max blows out a long breath, raking a hand through his shower-damp hair. “I know, I just … I hate letting him get under my skin like that, you know? No matter how much I try to rise above it, he always finds a way to trigger something deep down. It’s exhausting constantly needing to defend myself and the people I care about.”

“But that’s not your burden to bear alone, Max.” You shake your head adamantly, jaw set in that stubborn way he loves. “Let me help shoulder that weight, even if I can’t actually be there physically yet. I’m on your team, remember? We’re partners. I’ve got your back.”

Your words loosen a knot of tension he didn’t realize he was carrying. Of course you get it, you always do. He knows in that moment how lucky he is to have found his teammate, his shelter in the storm that rages on no matter how successful he becomes.

“Have I told you lately how amazing you are?” His voice comes out low, thick with emotion. “How did I ever get so lucky?”

Your radiant smile could power entire cities. “By being you, silly. And for the record, your dad is way off base. There’s nothing wrong with you wanting a mature, driven, accomplished partner — even if she happens to be younger.”

“Age shaming goes both ways, apparently.”

“Apparently,” you agree wryly. “I had my own fun today ...”

As you launch into explaining the shenanigans that occurred during your morning lecture, Max feels himself relaxing further and further into the couch, a dopey grin spreading across his face. On and on the two of you go, playfully trading stories until his father and the endless pressures of his career have fully melted away, replaced by this perfect bubble the two of you inhabit.

When you hit a lull, stifling a yawn behind your hand, Max reluctantly decides to let you go for the night. “Do you have some time before your next class? You should get some rest.”

“Aw, I’m fine!” You protest through another jaw-cracking yawn. “I’m not done talking to my favorite driver yet.”

Max chuckles fondly. This stubborn streak of yours will be the death of him someday. “We both know that’s a lie. I can practically hear your bed calling your name for a nap from here.”

“Hmph, fine.” You stick out your full bottom lip in an exaggerated pout that makes his heart skip. “I guess if you insist on being all reasonable and stuff.”

“That’s me, a real fun-sucker.” He matches your playful tone, though his eyes are serious. “But before you go … can you just say it? For me?”

You immediately soften, gazing at him through the camera with so much tenderness, it almost winds him. “I love you, Max. More than anything.”

He exhales heavily, as if your words have physically lifted a weight from his shoulders. “I love you too, Y/N. And your love, your belief in me … it’s everything. Never doubt that, okay?”

“I won’t if you don’t,” you promise with a wink. “Good luck, babe. I’ll be dreaming of you.”

“Sweet dreams, liefje.”

Even after disconnecting the call, Max sits there for several long moments, staring at the now-dark screen with a besotted grin. His chest is pleasantly warm, full to bursting with the soul-deep reassurance that only you can provide.

Screw whatever toxic nonsense his dad tries to peddle about your age gap or his career. You’re the beating heart that sustains him, the sun around which his entire universe orbits. No disapproving authority figure or rumor mill gossip could ever change that fundamental truth.

So let his father rage and splutter all he wants about how “inappropriate” your relationship is. Max has tasted the extraordinary, found his home and partner in the most vibrant woman he’s ever met. All those lonely, empty years without that missing piece suddenly feel like a hazy, long-forgotten dream.

As Max sips his energy drink and prepares for another demanding few hours at the track, he can’t keep the dopey smile off his face. You’re worth enduring a thousand more shouting matches with his dad, worth traversing any distance just to hear your laugh again.

Max is the luckiest bastard alive to have earned your heart, and he’ll never take that gift for granted.

***

You shoulder your backpack and push through the double doors of the lecture hall, finally free from classes for the summer. The late afternoon sun bakes the quad in a warm glow as you pause for a moment, breathing in the sweet semi-tropical air.

For two years, this campus has been your entire world. Endless cycles of classes, parties, study sessions, and chaos with your sisters from Kappa Alpha Theta. But now, as you glance around at the laughing students basking in the first days of freedom, you feel a strange sense of restlessness settle over you.

Like there’s some place — somewhere — else you’re meant to be.

Shaking it off, you start heading for the student parking lot to meet up with Chelsea. You only make it a few steps before unusually loud cheers and shouts draw your attention to a small crowd forming near the front entrance.

Rows of parked cars block your view, but the distinctive growl of a high-performance engine cuts through the commotion. Your pulse instantly kicks up a notch as your mind puts it together.

That’s no ordinary car.

That’s a multimillion dollar, 800 horsepower British rocket. Sleek, powerful, luxuriously elegant.

Just like-

“No way ...” you breathe out, books slipping from your slackened grip as the glossy green bodywork of an Aston Martin DBS Superleggera slides into view. Because draped over the driver’s side door in that achingly familiar display of casual arrogance ...

“Max!” You shout his name in disbelieving joy even as your feet are carrying you toward him at a full sprint.

His head snaps up at the sound and your heart nearly stops at the way his whole face ignites with radiant delight. That brilliant smile you’ve ached to see in person for so long now stretching those full lips in the most heart-stoppingly beautiful way.

He pushes off from the car, hands outstretched, and in the space of a single frantic heartbeat you’ve flung yourself into his arms with a breathless laugh.

“What are you doing here?” You demand giddily as Max’s strong arms engulf you, swinging your frame around in a tight circle. You’re vaguely aware of the other students going nuts, people shouting and whistles piercing the air, but you only have eyes and ears for this incredible man holding you tightly.

Max just chuckles warmly, murmuring your name with raw affection before crashing his lips to yours in a scorching kiss that leaves you dizzy. You melt into the fierce embrace, parting your lips eagerly to taste the slight sweetness of Red Bull and dark chocolate that is so distinctly Max.

“Surprise, schatje,” he rumbles against your smiling mouth between heated, openmouthed kisses. “Thought I would swing by and pick up my favorite student myself.”

“Oh my god!” You laugh delightedly, cupping his chiseled jaw to drink in every perfectly imperfect inch of his beloved face. The strong jawline, the dimpled chin, those piercing blue eyes crinkling at the corners as he beams at you.

“When did you … how did you …” You’re at a loss for words, overcome with giddy euphoria at having Max here, warm and solid and real in your arms again after so many endless months.

A fresh wave of cheers and hollers suddenly cuts through your joyful bubble as half the crowd seems to recognize the celebrity in their midst. Dozens of camera phones whip out to capture the unexpectedly intimate reunion between you and Max.

“Who is that guy?”

“No way, that’s Max freaking Verstappen!”

“Y/N, how do you know Max Verstappen?”

The shouts and questions reach a fever pitch, finally breaking through your amorous fugue. Blushing furiously, you pull back just enough to murmur against Max’s chest.

“Well, much as I’d love to keep making out with my insanely hot boyfriend in the middle of campus, maybe we should take this somewhere a bit more private?”

Max gives a deep, rich laugh at that, the sound vibrating pleasantly against you.

“You are a wise woman, liefje,” he praises in that deliciously accented baritone. He presses one last, searing kiss to your smiling lips before reluctantly disentangling himself. “Though I would have thought you might like to give all your classmates one more delightful bit of inspiration to remember you by before you depart for the summer?”

He leers at you playfully as a chorus of whoops and whistles greets his flirtatious suggestion. You can’t help but bark out a laugh, shoving his chest lightly in mock admonishment even as heat rushes to your cheeks.

“You’re impossible!”

“No, just hopelessly in love with you,” he counters easily, reaching out to tuck an errant strand of hair behind your ear. The tenderness in his voice and touch instantly gentles your teasing mood into something infinitely fonder.

This remarkable man, so genuine and caring beneath the roguish exterior cultivated for the cameras. You’re struck by a sudden lance of melancholy at the thought of how little the world really knows of the real Max Verstappen.

But then his eyes crinkle in that way that speaks of unabashed adoration just for you and the feeling passes. Because you know him better than anyone. And he sees you just the same. Two souls intertwined by a rare, precious understanding.

Max’s hand slides around to cup the back of your neck, his thumb brushing lightly over your thundering pulse point. The tender motion instantly sets your nerves alight with renewed longing.

“So,” his voice drops to an impossibly deep bedroom octave meant only for your ears. “Shall we give the good people at the University of Miami one last show before I whisk you away for a few months of long overdue privacy?”

There’s the barest hint of a filthy promise underlying the words. You swallow thickly, unconsciously pressing closer as Max’s velvet tones wash over you like a physical caress.

“And just where will you be taking me?” You manage to tease back, forcing a bravado your hammering heart doesn’t feel.

“Well ...” He leans in until his lips brush the delicate shell of your ear. You shiver helplessly at the heated puff of air ghosting your sensitive skin.

“First,” he begins in a heated murmur, “we’re going to swing by your sorority house to gather your belongings.”

“Okay ...” You nod faintly, hyper-aware of Max’s intoxicating proximity.

“Then I’ll be driving us straight to your parents’ place in Fort Lauderdale,” he continues lowly. “Per the strict instructions of one Logan Sargeant, of course.”

You can’t help the surprised laugh that bursts forth. Trust your brother to strong-arm his way into Max’s surprise plans.

“He didn’t give you too hard a time, did he?” You ask through your giggles. “I can only imagine the threats he must have ...”

You trail off at the feeling of Max’s talented mouth blazing a trail of kisses along the slender column of your throat. Every exploratory brush of his lips and insistent swipe of tongue steals the breath from your lungs.

“Max ...” You whine out his name without conscious thought, going pliant against the solid wall of his body.

“Shhh,” he rumbles against your overwrought senses. “Let me finish first.”

There’s a maddening pause where the only sounds are the rushing waves of cheers and chaos from the delighted crowd watching your every move, hungered gazes drinking in every scorching caress Max bestows upon you. Under any other circumstances, the thought of being so shamelessly devoured by hundreds of strangers’ eyes would have you recoiling in embarrassment.

But Max’s presence, his heated touch and low, sinful voice have you spellbound, uncaring of your audience.

“After we’ve satisfied your family’s demands to see us with their own eyes,” he purrs. “We’ll be boarding my jet bright and early for someplace much more ... pleasurable.”

Your skin prickles with delicious tension as Max continues in that low, rough whisper.

“We’ll spend a few lazy days lounging on a private beach in Aruba, just the two of us.” His large hand roves provocatively down the curve of your spine to boldly grip your backside, pulling your hips flush against the insistent bulge in his designer jeans. “Catching up on all the things I’ve been dreaming about for months, schatje.”

A tremulous whimper escapes your parted lips at the blatant promise underlying Max’s words. You flatten your palms against the firm planes of his chest, feeling his powerful heartbeat thundering in time with your own.

“A-And after that?” You somehow manage in a breathy rasp, scarcely daring to hope.

Max’s only response is a low, thrumming chuckle that you feel vibrate across your heated skin. His chin dips, molten blue eyes searing into yours with naked hunger.

“After that?” He husks, stealing the breath from your lungs with a devastating grin. “Well, then I’ll finally get to introduce the world to my favorite girl.”

And neither of you can wait.

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