#how would you identify truth if you saw it

[cocosparkel]

Curiosity killed the cat (but satisfaction brought it back)

Chapter 1

Summary-

When Marinette finds out that she is adopted, she tracks down her Biological aunt. Who happens to live Gotham, the place she swore she wouldn't go. Well, Gotham just gained a new vigilante -Chaos.

CHAPTER 1: REVELATIONS

The day Marinette found out she was adopted, her life changed completely.

It started like a normal day.

She entered the kitchen. “Maman ?” She asked. Her mother was crying over a photo. When she noticed Marinette, she quickly wiped her tears and hid the photo under a book.

“Marinette…” she said with a shaky smile.

“Maman, are you okay ?”Marinette asked, stepping into the room “What was in that photo ?”

“Nothing, Marinette, I'm fine.” Sabine abruptly stood up and left the room.

“Okay maman…” Marinette whispered as Sabine was leaving the room, loud enough for her to hear it.

Just as Marinette was about to leave too, confused about the entire thing, something caught her eye. It was another photo, which had fallen on the floor. Hesitating, she eventually picked it up. The photo was that of a baby. She had big blue eyes, and black hair, with a beautiful smile. Flipping the photo, Marinette saw a familiar handwriting at the bottom corner.

Bridgette Liu Dupain-cheng, our precious baby.

Confused, Marinette kept the photo with her, deciding to ask her parents later.

______________________________________________________________

At dinner, Marinette finally asked the one question in her mind. “Maman, papa, who is this ?” She showed them the photo she had found early.

Sabine dropped her knife and Tom looked stunned.

Snapping out of her reverie, Sabine said “Oh Marinette, we hoped this day would never come….”

Marinette swallowed, losing her appetite immediately.

“We were going to tell you when you were 13, but then Hawkmoth appeared, and we didn't want to overwhelm you, and we just– we love you Marinette, and it doesn't matter if… if you're…if you're…” Sabine looked at Tom, unable to complete her sentence.

But Marinette bet them to it. “ I'm adopted, amn't I ?”

Sabine started sobbing, and Tom put a comforting hand around her.

He sighed,” Marinette, we are your godparents. Our own daughter, Bridgette passed just a year before we adopted you. Your mother was a very close friend of ours, and she left us with you.”

Sabine gave her a watery smile,“We love you, Marinette that will never change.”

Marinette stood “ Thanks for finally telling me the truth Maman, Papa.”

She fled to her room.

______________________________________________________________

Her parents had given her her original birth certificate that night.

Her name had been Marie Kyle - Draper. Her mother's name was Diane Kyle, and her father's name was Richard Draper.

She looked them up in every possible website, but the only thing she found was an article.

Last saturday night, a young couple who were later identified as Richard and Diane draper were found dead in an alley near Robinson park. Richard had been shot straight on the head,whereas Diane had taken a bullet through her stomach. While it looks like a mugging attempt which led to their demise, the GPD suspect something more sinister. The GPD have promised to get to the bottom of this.

Finding out just what happened to her parents made her uneasy, especially when she realised that the place they died was Gotham, the very place where her grandmother Felicie had been murdered.

______________________________________________________________

Walking into class, Marinette was still in a daze about what had happened the day before. She was so lost in thought, that she didn't notice the glares her classmates were giving her.

"How could you, girl ? We all trusted you so much !” Alya shouted, as Marinette went to sit beside her.

"Alya what do you mean ? I don't get it ?” Marinette asked, confused.

“Look I get that you don't like Lila but that doesn't mean you can insult her when all she's done is be nice to you.” Kim said, as everyone agreed with him.

"What? I still don't understand-’’ M asked looking around. Her eyes fell on Lila who seemed to be crying.

"So you're saying you didn't tell lila that she will never be Adrien’s friend ? Or that Ladybug doesn't really like her ?” Alya snapped.

“I never said that!” Marinette exclaimed, realising what was happening.

“And who would have sent her these messages from your phone ?” Sneered Kim.

“ Those were taken out of context.” Marinette said, shaking her head.

"Sure…” Alya looked at her, and lowered her voice and said, “Look all you have to do is apologise to her… and understand that Adrien may not want to be with you and-”

“Alya what makes you think I still like Adrien” Marinette asked, getting annoyed.

"Come on girl, I'm your best friend.” Alya said rolling her eyes.

“You haven't been my best friend in months! You haven't properly talked to me, insulted me when I forgave Chloe and even ditched me for Lila many times.” Marinette shouted, done with her friends, no ex friends stupidity.

“Marinette, you know it's not like that…” Alya said, in a condescending tone.

"No Alya, I'm done. With all of you.” With that, Marinette stormed to the back of the class, and sat next to a stunned looking Chloe. She had made up her mind about what she was going to do.

______________________________________________________________

Ever since she found out that she was adopted, things had been tense with her parents. She walked into the bakery, determined to put this behind her.

“Marinette ! Could you.. could you help me with making the decorations for this cake ?” Sabine asked hesitantly.

"Sure thing Maman” Marinette said, a small smile on her face.

So what if she was adopted? Her parents still wanted her, still cared for her. She wasn't going to let anything ruin her family life, like the way she let Lila ruin her friendships.

______________________________________________________________

( what do you think ??? Is it nice ???? Is it boring ??? Is it cool ???? Is it horrible????)

[amaliasnap]

I had a dream that I was watching a movie where the villain shared my first name.

Then Benoit Blanc from glass onion came in and started watching the movie with me.

Then he started making fun of the fake sounding accents of the characters and I was trying to be nice so I didn't bring up his fake sounding accent.

But meanwhile, my partner had a dream that he was in high school but Donald trump was his math teacher and trump kept giving them busy-work and making excuses to leave the room

So anyways, that's how you can tell it's really allergy season

[margotw10bis]

Better Than Him.JJK [m]

roommate!Jungkook x reader

Genre: fake-dating; romance; smut; one-shot

Words: 19.6k (oops)

Synopsis: When your boyfriend cheats on you and decides to bring his lover to the wedding you invited him to, you take vengeance by pretending you have a new boyfriend: your hot roommate.

Warnings: broken heart; cheating; alcohol consumption; huge sexual tension between those 2 idiots; voyeurism?; masturbating; fingering; bigdick!jk; protected sex

You should have known. The signs were there but you chose to look the other way. Now, you have to face the consequences of your willful blindness.

Because now, there is no "look the other way" option when your boyfriend is standing in front of you and is breaking up with you.

"I'm sorry, what?"

He has already explained the reason but while your ears can identify the sounds coming from his mouth, your brain, on the other hand, has absolutely no idea how to make sense of the words forming the sentences.

Even if Taehyung has a huge craving of rolling his eyes, he doesn't and repeats himself again — he can't really act angered when he is ending a one-year relationship.

"I want to break up with you because I met someone"

The explanation is clear, straightforward, but so raw. Just as Taehyung didn't care about hurting you or that he never actually cared about you.

"Do I know her?"

You don't know why you want to torture yourself even more because you don't want to picture him with someone else. You don't want to picture the woman in his arms, on his lips, underneath him. But you have to be a little masochist because you still ask.

"Does it matter?" Taehyung sighs

It doesn't but maybe you have a faint hope that you're better than her. That he is so wrong about choosing someone over you.

"I deserve to know, don't you think?" Your tone is more hurt than aggressive

"Siyeon" He says after a long pause

Your heart drops instantly.

Siyeon.

The woman Taehyung has been teamed up with for a few months. The woman he told you not to worry about. The woman you saw in his apartment one month ago but he pretended it was a "professional meeting".

You were so dumb to believe it because who the hell have professional meetings at their home at nine pm with a good bottle of wine and candles?! You were so hurt that you denied the truth. Maybe you thought that catching them together would make Taehyung realize that what he was doing was wrong.

You didn't think that he would actually realize that you were the wrong one for him.

Ever since you saw her, you have been insecure because she is gorgeous. More than that, she is confident — something you know you lack and something you know Taehyung absolutely loves.

You feel humiliated. You'll have to explain to your friends why Taehyung is not in the picture anymore and it hurts. Everyone will know what happened. That you weren't enough for him. That he chose another woman over you.

"Now that you know it's Siyeon, you should also know that I'll go to Namjoon's wedding with her" He adds

What?!

That is mean. So fucking mean. Namjoon invited you at his wedding and Taehyung was your +1. And now he is going to the wedding you invited him with another woman, the woman he cheated on you with?!

You can't take it anymore. You want to strangle him and yell at him. You want to find the most painful words ever just for him to feel a third of your pain. But nothing comes to your mind and you only can stay pathetically quiet as the man you thought was the love of your life walks away with your broken heart.

. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀ ♡

Usually, when you come home, you feel soothed. Mainly because you rarely come home to an empty apartment.

After graduating from college, you were like many of your fellows: optimistic about the future but broke. Finding a job took more time than you expected and it was impossible for you to pay a whole rent by yourself if you didn't want to live in a very tiny studio — Seoul has a lot of great qualities but cheap real estate is not one of them. Sharing an apartment became your only option and you spent a few weeks looking for the perfect roommate. Until you found Jeon Jungkook.

To be honest, you didn't want to share an apartment with a man — for all kind of reasons, the main one being that you didn't feel comfortable showing your intimacy to a male stranger. However, as you saw Jungkook's notice, you fell in love with the place. It was luminous, nicely decorated, in a great neighborhood and the two bedrooms were very spacious. With a little apprehension, you met Jungkook so he could show you around your maybe-future-place, and it was even greater than on the ad.

Moreover, Jungkook was sweet and smiling. Very welcoming and you immediately felt comfortable with him. You didn't think twice before signing the lease. You even stayed after saving enough money to have a place on your own.

It's reassuring to live with someone like Jungkook. First of all, he cooks so well. Then, you can always ask him to help you change a lightbulb or refill your car oil. And, most important, he always comforts you when you feel down. He does so much for you that you sometimes wonder what you bring to him...

Yet, you are praying every gods for him to be absent as you're opening the front door. Naturally, it's not your lucky day so he watches you stepping inside with traces of mascara on your cheeks. For once, you wished he was with one of his hookups — it's not something he does much but he is enough of a gentlemen to have sex at the girl's place not to bother you. You have to admit that you didn't take as many precautions as him and you have no doubt he has heard you having sex with your (ex)boyfriend...

"What's going on? Are you okay?" He runs toward you with a panicked face

You blink the new tears away and mumble something like "don't wanna talk about it" before escaping to your shared bathroom. As you look in the mirror, you understand why Jungkook was so worried as he saw you: you look absolutely terrible. Yeah, your makeup is ruined but it's mainly your devastating expression that is obvious.

It's exactly the kind of things you want to avoid when you have to go to a wedding in five days...

The wedding.

Should you go? You're definitely not in the mood. Plus you don't have a date anymore. Plus your former date is going with someone else. Plus that someone else is the woman he cheated on you with. Isn't it the definition of a shitty life?

All of your friends will look at you with pity and you don't want that. You would very much prefer to stay at home and cry over your broken heart with a good vanilla ice cream.

On the other hand, you like Namjoon a lot. He is so great, one of your closest friends. And Tzuyu has become your friend too, she is the sweetest person ever. This day is so important for them and you can't be selfish enough not to go and be by their side. When you spot things this way, being the laughing stock of the party is not dramatic.

And you still have a few days to think about it. You know that your emotions are all over the place so you just have to take a good and hot shower, try to apply some ointment on your poor heart and convince yourself that going to this wedding is a good idea and your only option.

. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀ ♡

Your heart and your brain are not friends anymore.

The whole night you've been through pros and cons of going to the wedding. Your brain strongly defended the pros while your heart advocated the cons.

To be honest, your heart was really convincing, spotting that it's too soon to meet your ex again (and it could be the case for any kind of break-ups), that you're too hurt and fragile right now to face the cheater and his mistress and that you'll have to deal with the humiliation in front of all your friends. So yeah, listening to your heart, you shouldn't attend the wedding.

But your brain had good arguments too. First of all, Namjoon. He was there when, in your second year of college, you couldn't find any place to live. He generously offered his couch for all long as you needed, even though you weren't this close to him in the past because you didn't share any class — a normal thing considering you were a sophomore and he was a senior — and your only bound back then was the Newspaper of the University Club. Then, your brain reminded you that this wedding was more than just that: it was a whole trip with your friends. Namjoon, a well-known romantic, booked a hotel on a beach in a haven of greenery in the Philippines. For a whole weekend, you'll get to enjoy yourself on the beach with delicious cocktails made from fresh-cut fruits, and you'll be able to go the spa of the luxurious hotel. It's an appealing program to be true.

But the argument that convinced you was that Taehyung doesn't deserve to have such an impact on you. He doesn't deserve your tears or any kind of thought or attention. You should do what you want and you have nothing to feel ashamed of. He is the one sporting the shame with his actions.

That is why you're feeling a little lighter the next morning when you head to the kitchen in quest of a warm coffee. You're a little surprised to see Jungkook since he usually goes to the gym at this time "to avoid the crowd and focus on the right moves” — quoting. But he hasn't gone to the gym.

He is leaning against the countertop, his arms crossed on his chest — you try your best not to look at the way his biceps are brought out under his large grey t-shirt — and his black hair is messy. But what catches your attention is his tired face. It looks like he hasn't got any sleep last night and his big cup of coffee almost finished doesn't seem to help.

"Good morning" You greet but you wince at your hoarse voice due to your late crying

"Morning" Jungkook waits a few seconds, watching you fill your own mug with the brown liquid "Do you want to tell me what happened? I'm worried about you"

You sigh and your heart squeezes a little — not because of Taehyung this time but because the lack of sleep of Jungkook might have been caused by you.

"Tae cheated on me and then broke up with me"

A sarcastic chuckle escapes your mouth. When you present things like that, you feel ridiculous to even cry over him. You're pathetic and yet, how can you stop loving someone in just one night? You love Taehyung, you have been for a year.

"Y/N..." Jungkook tries to comfort you but he doesn't quite know what to say

You feel it and give him a faint smile when his big palm gently squeezes your shoulder.

"I'll be okay" You promise him and yourself "If I survive Namjoon's wedding, I'll be okay"

You notice the frown on Jungkook's face.

"What do you mean?" He asks

"He is going with..." You can't bring yourself to say her name, it's still too painful "Her"

You don't have to detail, it's clear enough.

Jungkook tenses and a big wave of anger builds inside him.

"The hell?!" He exclaims "He is such a asshole! He has been invited because of you! And now he is going with another woman?!"

It's exactly what you've spent the night telling to yourself and somehow, it's soothing to have someone by your side. Jungkook has the angry side of your pain and it's comforting. You know he won't belittle your feelings or your pain.

"I swear, I can punch the guy, Y/N" He offers

He looks so serious but it's so out of character for him to choose violence. Despite the numerous hours of box training, Jungkook has never fought someone — that you know of at least. You can't help a laugh at his hero behavior. 'Gosh, he is so precious' You think to yourself.

"You won't punch him. And I won't punch him either. I will just go, enjoy this weekend with my friends and show him that I'm completely okay without him"

"You're sure?" He asks, a little worried

You nod and give him a side hug to enhance your answer.

"I'm here for you" He whispers in your hair before pecking the top of your head

. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀ ♡

Plans have changed.

You clack the front door with wrath as you enter your apartment, shaking the whole wall, and growl when you take off your shoes. You make them fly around you without too much care.

All this noise attracts Jungkook and his eyes widen when he sees you throwing your bag across the room, hitting a lamp that falls on the floor and breaks. Tears of burning anger roll down your cheeks and your heart is pounding so loud in your ears that you haven't heard your roommate approaching.

"Hey, Y/N, what happened?" He gently questions, trying to guess how to act

It's the first time he witnesses your anger. Usually, you sport your disappointed face — a frown and pouty lips. Just like this one time when Jungkook ate the cake you baked for one of your friends' baby shower. Or when he broke your very expensive moisturizer in the bathroom. But you never yelled or appeared angry at him. He is not even sure you've ever raised your voice at someone. You're the kind of person who chooses dialogue to ease conflicts and always tries to see the others' point of view.

But right now, you look like at tornado of furiousness and Jungkook is quite taken aback.

"I swear, I'm going to kill him!" You scream

You really want to punch something, anything. You are so fucking mad. You've never felt like this before and your shaking body due to adrenaline is very well noticeable by Jungkook. He is afraid you'll have a heart attack.

"Are you talking about Taehyung?" Your roommate asks with caution

"This little... shit!" You yell

Jungkook's mouth falls open. Okay, the situation is damn serious because you never ever curse, let alone insult someone. He doesn't even know how to calm you down and he is sure that you could punch him right now — not that he can't defend himself but he would rather much avoid the fury of your delicate fists at the moment.

"He said I cheated! Can you believe it?! I cheated!"

Now, Jungkook understands why you're so angry. He would be just the same in your shoe. God, he is mad right now.

"He said to Namjoon that he would attend the wedding with her for moral support! I can't even believe it!"

Your voice has slowly changed from wrath to hurt and your screams shifted into sobbing. You're a mess. And your heart has broken a second time after Namjoon's call. Sure, your friend didn't believe your ex and he was worried about you. But still, Taehyung said that and you're sure that he has been saying his little story lie to everyone.

"Let me punch him" Jungkook begs, ready to defend your honor

"I wish but it won't be enough" You cry "I want to make him pay. I want to make him feel like the looser he is. Gosh, I want him to think that I actually cheated"

Your brain is going to all kinds of directions, trying to find a way to take revenge. Until your watery eyes land on Jungkook.

Jungkook. Hot, handsome roommate. Great at everything. Completely at the opposite of Taehyung with his tattooed arm, lip ring and brawny body. He is the embodiment of sexiness. And you know that your ex has always been jealous of him. You clearly remember a conversation you've forgotten for a long time.

"You're sure nothing happened between you and your roommate?" Taehyung asked

“Who, Jungkook?” The idea seems so ridiculous to you that you can’t help but giggle “Yes, I'm sure. He is my friend and I don't think we'll ever see each other other than that" You answered, way too in love with your new boyfriend to even look at another man — even if the said man is a sexy roommate who isn't afraid to walk around shirtless

"I have to say that I don't quite like the idea of you living with him" Taehyung pouted

"Why?" You squeezed his cheeks to tease him

"He looks at you funny sometimes"

"You're imagining things, Taetae" You reassured him "We've been roommates for three years. If we wanted things to happen between us, it would have already happened"

"Come to the wedding with me"

Jungkook is looking at you as if you were crazy. Well, you understand. You just came home furious, then bursted into cries and now you have a new, strong determination with fire in your glossy eyes.

“I—"

But you cut him off.

"Pretend you're my boyfriend"

"What?!" Jungkook exclaims, his doe eyes having doubled in size

"Taehyung has always been jealous of you. If you come with me and we say we're together, I'm sure he'll be mad. He'll think I've cheated for real" You explain

You know you sound crazy but you're too angry and too hurt to reason. You just want give Taehyung a taste of his own medicine. It's not fair to Jungkook because he has nothing to do with this whole messed up situation but he is the only one who can help you.

"Don't you think it'll create more drama?" Jungkook points out

He is not wrong but the risks are nothing compared to your willing of revenge.

"Maybe for him" You concede "But I'm sick of his behavior. He can't cheat, break my heart and act like I'm the villain. This is my friends' wedding and Taehyung is doing everything he can to ruin that for me. I just want to be with my friends and enjoy a nice weekend. For that, I need an ally. I need you. Please, Jungkook. We'll just have to hold hands, dance together and it'll be it. And there is a great gym at the hotel, I saw it on the website”

You’re looking at him with those puppy eyes that your roommate can’t resist. It’s an unfair fight, he knows it. He’ll never win against you and he would do pretty much everything you’d ask right now if it means it’ll heal your broken heart. 

Jungkook sighs. Fuck, you know him way too well for his sake. You didn't have to present the gym part, he would already say yes when you ask him to come with you the first time. To be honest, Jungkook has never really liked your ex. He found him too arrogant and a little bit mean with you sometimes. If Jungkook can be there to protect you and help you to get back at him, he is down for it. Spending time with his roommate in another scenery than your shared flat or the grocery store is just the icing on the cake.

. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀ ♡

Step 1 of "Getting back at Taehyung" plan — or "Making him realize that he is a complete asshole and you're too good for him" as Jungkook calls it— starts straight when you reach Incheon International Airport. Your closest friends are here — plus Taehyung and Siyeon — since you've planned to fly together in order to start the celebration weekend right after work. You were lucky enough to find a plane ticket for Jungkook last minute and you had to battle with him to pay — he conceded but promised to pay for the room in exchange.

Only Namjoon and his future wife, Tzuyu, were informed of your new 'date'. That explains the surprised look on your friends' faces and the pure hate on Taehyung's one. You gloat at his reaction, especially at his frown when he sees Jungkook taking care of your both luggages when Taehyung hasn't even thought about helping Siyeon.

"I'm so glad you made it" Hoseok welcomes you with a hug

"Of course, I couldn't miss Joon and Tzuyu’s wedding!"

You greet your friends, carefully avoiding Taehyung and his date, and decide to tease him a little when you introduce Jungkook — something that is absolutely not necessary because they have all seen him already during some hangings out at your place.

"I didn't know there was room for roommates on this trip" Taehyung mumbles

If the others chose to ignore him, Jungkook doesn't. A smirk paints his face and he scoots closer to you, circling your waist with his strong arm in a possessive manner.

"There isn't. But there's room for boyfriends, right love?"

Your cheeks immediately burn. You knew that you'll have to play a role but you didn't expect Jungkook to be this good at it. You're not good at pet names. Most of the times, you called Taehyung by his name or "Taetae" but the words "baby", "honey" or whatsoever have never crossed your lips. You always feel too shy to use them but you guess that the whole point of this is actually to give Jungkook everything you didn't give to Taehyung — honestly, it's not like he's ever deserved it while Jungkook might. Just to show him that he can't compete with your roommate.

"True, baby"

You pat yourself for not stuttering and Jungkook sees your efforts too so he gives you a kiss on your cheek. If he meant to soothe you, it does the exact opposite since you've never been comfortable at being physically affectionate in public.

This little warm up at pretending dating turns freezing when Taehyung turns around to kiss Siyeon on the lips. A bitter taste fills your mouth as you know that he has done it several times when you were still together. Does he like kissing her more than you? This kind of thoughts shouldn't affect you but it does...

"Come on, let's get through security" Jungkook whispers in your ear as he has witnessed the same gesture

You nod and keep your head low in order to hide your pained expression. You're happy Jungkook is with you because he takes care of everything. You just have to follow his instructions and concentrate on not crying in front of everyone.

Thankfully, Jungkook and you are seated a few rows before your ex so you don't have to watch their lovely interactions. And your roommate helps you forget the kiss by reminding you that the whole point of this plan is to show Taehyung that you don't care about him. Jungkook makes sure to choose one of the movies you like on the seat screen and shares his earphones with you.

You wrap your arm around his and rest your head on his shoulder, laughing at the most ridiculous scenes. You don't even acknowledge Taehyung passing by to reach the restrooms. However, the two men share a glance full of male tension. Jungkook watches with a proud smirk Taehyung's jaws clenching and decides to push a little further: he settles his hand on your thigh. As a man, he knows damn well that he would be pissed if the guy he always suspected his girlfriend to have a thing with did that. Jungkook can see in Taehyung's eyes that he suspects him to have touched you like that in the past — the past during which you were a couple and during which he cheated on you.

But this little game is not that important for Jungkook. He prefers giving his attention to you and watches you laugh with a way more tender smile. He hopes that you'll be as happy during the weekend. As least, he'll do his best for it.

. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀ ♡

This hotel is even better than on the photos. It's surrounded by the forest and the beach. There is even a beautiful waterfall nearby. All the walls are made of wood and classic glass windows are replaced by big openings, giving the illusion of being in the nature. It's magical and romantic, which means that it's perfect for a wedding.

Your eyes shine in front of the beauty of your location.

"It's amazing" You say to Jungkook, tugging on his t-shirt sleeve for him to look at the view

You squeak in excitement when a monkey appears in front of you, flying from branch to branch. Jungkook points at a tree, a little further, and you notice the gorgeous white flowers on it. You're not good at botanic but you think it might be a magnolia tree. It's the biggest one you've even seen. You are so glad to share that with your roommate because you know that Jungkook loves it just as much as you do.

"Gosh, Y/N, thank you so much for inviting me" He thanks you

You shake your head.

"Thank you for coming. And I'm sorry you had to cancel some of your customers appointments"

"That's okay, I can reschedule" He reassures you — you guess that it's one of the advantages of having his own tattoo shop — and guides you to the reception

Everyone takes their key and you don't miss Taehyung's upset eye when he notices that you and Jungkook only have one key, which means one room.

And the said room is just as perfect as the rest of the hotel. Wood is everywhere and the rest of the fabrics — bedsheets, curtains, towels — are white. If you had to picture heaven, it'd be it. It's perfect.

The bedroom is spacious, giving enough place for a king size bed, a wardrobe, a large TV and two comfortable white sofas. You explore a little more your room for the weekend until you reach the bathroom. Same wood everywhere with a large walking shower. Perfect. It's so beautiful you could cry.

"I don't want to leave. Can't we just move here?" You ask Jungkook, making him chuckle

"Don't tempt me, I might say yes"

You realize that for the first time since your break up you don't feel in absolute pain. You actually feel good. You don't want to be anywhere else right now. And deep down, you know that Jungkook is partly responsible for that. 

After a quick drop at your rooms to change into swimsuits, Namjoon has proposed to walk around to enjoy the beautiful nature surrounding the hotel. Of course, you asked Jungkook if it was okay for him or if he preferred going to the gym. You don't want to impose him any activity because he has been kind enough to accept this whole fake-dating thing. However, he stated that he wanted to see your surroundings and he doesn't regret one bit.

It's beautiful. Tall trees frame the narrow path to the waterfall. The sound of the water, the birds and the faint breeze in the leaves are magical. The little lake created by the waterfall seems to come from a fairy tail.

Jungkook stays close to you, playing his boyfriend role perfectly. He urges you to be careful and holds your hand. You clearly feel Taehyung's eyes burning your back but you do your best to ignore it, especially when Siyeon wears the smallest and more translucent dress ever. You wonder if Taehyung actually likes this style because it's surely not yours — the proof being that you've opted for denim shorts and an oversized t-shirt.

When you are right next to the lake, you throw an eye at your 'boyfriend' but you gulp when you spot the playfulness in his doe eyes. You immediately understand what's going on in his childish brain and you point a warning finger at him.

"I swear to god, Jungkook, if you do that..."

"Do what, baby?" He replies, with a faked innocence

That's vicious because the pet name takes you aback and you don't have time to react. Jungkook slyly wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you up, making your squeak. He is walking dangerously straight to the water so you secure your legs around his torso, just prevent him from acting upon his idea.

"Don't you dare!" You threaten him

"You said you wanted to go for a swim" He teases, pretending to drop you but immediately holds you tighter

"Jungkook!" You scream, burring your face in the crook of his neck

His airy laugh is contagious. You're happy he's happy. You were afraid this weekend would be an absolutely chore for him but he actually seems to enjoy it.

"Look at me" He says softly

You look at his shiny doe eyes. They've never been so pretty. To be honest, everything in Jungkook is pretty. And his wide grin is to die for. He has the most beautiful smile in the whole world.

His inked hand goes up to your face and you're surprised by the tenderness of his thumb brushing your cheek. Honestly, if you didn't know that you're fake-dating, you would be completely in love. But maybe your weak heart shouldn't react as much... It certainly a side-effect of having your heart broken by your cheating boyfriend and not at all because Jungkook is kind and handsome and sexy and everything that describes 'perfect'.

"I won't let you down" He swears and seals his promise with a kiss on your forehead before putting you down carefully

However, your little bubble explodes with your ex's annoyed and annoying voice. And you understand that Jungkook just put on a show because Taehyung was there. You put far, far, far away the feeling of disappointment.

"Can we go to the beach now? Everyone is waiting for you" Taehyung growls

You shrug your shoulders while you pass by him and Siyeon, not forgetting to grab your roommate's hand.

. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀ ♡

Would you dare to say that the beach is even prettier than the tropical forest? Yes. The white and soft sand underneath your feet is warm and comforting. And the sea is painted in a turquoise color. It's official: you want to move here.

You don't resist anymore and you are quick to take off your shorts and t-shirt to jump in the water. Soon enough, your friends join you but you see no sign of Jungkook. Your eyes scan the shore and you almost choke.

Jungkook has taken his Hawaiian shirt off and his perfect chest is on full display. Gosh, he is hot. You take advantage of being away enough to ogle him. Your eyes lick his defined abs and pecs, then his strong biceps, especially the one covered by ink, and finish with his large thighs. You internally curse at his orange swimsuit.

"You've found yourself a great specimen" Tzuyu teases you, wiggling her eyebrows

You laugh it off but your red cheeks speak for themselves. You can't deny that you are flushed by the view of your 'boyfriend'.

You're not the only one to blush at this fine man: you can see some other female tourists whispering, certainly wondering if they should go talk to him. But they don't have time to make a decision since Jungkook walks to the water and skillfully swims to you. You didn't know that swimming could be sexy...

You quickly put your head underwater in order to get rid off your blushed cheeks but you're not sure it works. When you emerge, Jungkook is standing right in front of you with his handsome bunny smile.

"Come here" He urges you softly

Even though the water is too deep for you to plant your feet on the ground, it's not the case for Jungkook who can easily grab your waist and hug you. Automatically, you wrap your legs around his torso and your arms around his neck. You still have in mind your fake-dating plan and cuddling in the warm ocean sets the perfect scenery to play your roles.

You push his black wet hair back and use your 'girlfriend card' to admire his handsome face. Jungkook seems to glow with the drops glistening in the sun.

You swear, your roommate has decided to kill you because he attacks you with cuteness when he softly brushes his bubble nose against yours, making you both giggle.

"They're too cute together" Tzuyu beams, hugging her future husband

You've known Namjoon longer than her but she has become a true friend. She is always nice with you and supports you the same way your friend does. You're so happy for them to have found each other because they're perfect together — even though you're a bit jealous of their love right now.

You want to thank her but as you open your mouth, you're interrupted by none other than Taehyung, in his grumpy mood.

"Who wants to play volleyball?" Your ex asks, a little louder than necessary just to bother you

You roll your eyes, scoot a little away but still stay in Jungkook's strong arms. You know that if Taehyung has proposed volleyball is not mundane but it's because he is quite good at it. He used to play in high school and it might be the only sport he can beat Jungkook at. But he surely bets on your roommate's competitiveness to lure him into his trap.

However, Jungkook refuses — which surprises both you and your ex. 

"Nah, thanks. I just want to enjoy some time with my girl"

Namjoon, Hoseok and his girlfriend, and Taehyung join the beach to prep the game. The rest of your group floats around in the water or intend to swim to the yellow buoy.

"You're sure you don't want to play?" You ask

"Yeah, I'm sure" He reassures you and then bends over to whisper in yours ear "Taehyung is so mad right now, he keeps throwing stares at us. Is it okay if I kiss your neck?"

Your heart skips a bit and you nod, bitting your lower lip. It's suddenly very hot and it has nothing to do with the bright sun above you. You can feel your heart pounding with anticipation and you wonder if Jungkook can see the pulsations on your throat.

Jungkook's lips are soft, sending shivers down your spine when they slightly brush against your skin. The coldness of his lip ring contrasts with his hot breathe. You don't know what's got into you but you press him tighter against you and arch your back. Jungkook lands a first kiss to taste waters, then a second one, then a third one — more heated this time. You just wish he never stops and you don't know why you're feeling like that: it's not the first time someone touches you, even if it feels like it.

You close your eyes as you're trying your best not to moan but it's very hard to do when your fake boyfriend starts sucking on your skin. You have no doubt he can feel your pulse with his lips. His teeth gently bite the new mark before his tongue licks it to soothe the pain. You're very thankful that the ocean covers your hard nipples and that your wetness is indiscernible because one thing is sure: you’re aroused. 

Jungkook takes the time to admire his work. It might be one of the prettiest hickeys he's ever made and he has to admit that the purple mark suits you so well.

"Perfect" He states, more to himself than to you, and he licks his lips

When you open your eyes again, they land on Siyeon. She has clearly watched your interaction and you suddenly feel embarrassed. Sure, it was meant to be a show but weirdly, you would have wished this intimate moment to stay well, intimate.

An unpleasant shiver runs through your body at her death stare. You should be the one to hate her — she stole your man for god's sake! — and you don't understand why she acts so cold towards you. Not that you're willing to befriend with her but still...

"You're cold?" Jungkook asks

You use it as an excuse to run away  — or swim away — from Siyeon and her piercing eyes. You have the distasteful instinct that she has read right through Jungkook's and your lie.

You expected Jungkook to put you down but he actually walks to the shore with you in his arms, holding you tighter as the water levels down on your body. You hug him like a koala and Jungkook smiles softly at the image.

It's only when you are by your stuff that your fake boyfriend lets you feel the ground underneath your feet. He hands you your towel and helps you dry yourself. The gestures are sweet and you wonder if Jungkook is like that when he is in a real relationship or if he just plays his role.

He scrubs his wet hair with his own towel at a rapid pace, shaking his muscles right in front of you. You gulp and look the other way. Just like he wasn't an absolute tease, Jungkook lays on his towel to enjoy the sun. However, you notice his blushed cheeks and you know that a sunburn is close.

"You should apply sun protection" You advise

You thought that he would battle with you — it was usual with Taehyung as your ex-boyfriend often complained that you were babying him — but he doesn't and wastes no time to apply sun screen on his arms, legs, chest and face. You can't only chuckle when he turns white because of the dramatic amount he has put on.

"Can you help me with the back, please?"

"Of course, turn around"

Facing his large back is easier because Jungkook can't see how much you're blushing. You make sure to cover every inch of his skin, massaging his back lightly and insisting on his tattoos. You deny it but you take a little more time than needed just to enjoy his body under your fingertips.

When he turns around, Jungkook gives you his bunny smile with a scrunched nose and you know that many women have fallen under his charm. It's not that difficult to be honest.

"How about a game?" He asks with cheerfulness, holding his phone in his tattooed hand

You nod frenetically, so glad that Jungkook thinks about your habits as roommates. You feel like you both need it not to get too lost into your acting. You and him are used to spend evenings playing this stupid game on your phones, fighting for the win. You have to admit that Jungkook is really good at it but you know all of his technics now, resulting in stealing some victories from him.

You are both laying on your stomachs, typing like maniacs on your screens, gasping from time to time when the other kills one of your players. When you are taking the lead, Jungkook bumps your shoulder in order to distract you but you push him back and go further by typing haphazardly on his phone.

"Yah!" He yells, making you giggle

"Yes!" You exclaim as the victory is yours

"It wasn't fair!" Jungkook pouts and you poke your tongue out to taunt his sore loser side

However, Jungkook takes revenge by tickling you with no pity. You squeak and wiggle as much as you can to escape his devilish fingers but Jungkook's grip is strong. You're laughing so much that your tummy hurts and tears roll down your cheeks.

You don't really know how it happened but Jungkook is now above you. The intimate position stops the childish moment and the atmosphere swifts to something way hotter.

You might be imagining things but it looks like your roommate is staring at your lips. It even seems like he is getting closer. Is he going to kiss you? Oh gosh!

'Oh gosh!' because you want him to!

Your heart pounds and you try to calm down all the alarms in your brain screaming 'your sexy roommate is about to kiss you!' but the kiss never happens.

Because as Jungkook's appealing mouth is only a few inches away from yours, the volleyball hits his head with a comic 'boing' sound.

Furious, Jungkook's head snaps at the players and it's no surprise that Taehyung was the one who threw the ball.

"My bad!" He fakes to apologize

"The hell, man?!" Jungkook barks

You feel the tension between the two men, especially when Jungkook stands up, ready to throw punches. You grab his arm as you're trying to calm him down.

"Kook, it's okay" You say softly

"He could have hurt you!" He replies

"Don't worry, I aim good" Your ex mocks him, indirectly confessing that he did it on purpose — not that you had a doubt

Your roommate's fists clench and you're afraid all this thing doesn't end good. You sneak your hand in his, caressing the back of his hand to soothe him. It seems to work as Jungkook has stopped throwing death stares at Taehyung and is now looking at you.

"It's late anyway" You say "We should head to our room to get ready for dinner"

"Yeah, you're right" Jungkook concedes, eyeing Taehyung a last time as an idea lightens up his face "I can't wait to test this amazing shower with you, baby"

Poking his inner cheek with his tongue, Jungkook is clearly provoking Taehyung but it's so fucking sexy. Actually, you wouldn't mind testing that shower with him...

. ༶⋆˙⊹❀♡

"Oh my god!" You exclaim "You look really good!"

Your compliment paints a smile on your roommate's face but you have to say that he deserves it. As there is a casual diner for tonight — fancy events are reserved for the wedding tomorrow —Jungkook hasn't put a lot of efforts but he is great even, he always is. It's pretty rare you see him without his baggy clothes and yet, his skinny jeans and black shirt are perfect on him. It's like you get to finally see his musculature underneath the fabric.

Walking around at this man's arm is a boost for self-confidence, even though you had to try harder to look one third of his good-looking.

"You're great, too" He tells you, referring to your white calf-long shirt dress "Look, for tonight, I think we should get more... physical. It seems to really drive Taehyung mad"

"That's because I'm not very affectionate in public, it makes me feel embarrassed" You explain

"We don't have to" Jungkook reassures you "I don't want to make you uncomfortable"

"No, it's okay. I mean, isn't it the whole point of faking?"

"You're sure?" Jungkook asks with concern in his eyes

"Yeah, I'm sure" You nod, giving him a small smile

With a final nod from Jungkook, you both walk to the open restaurant. As you are getting closer, your fake boyfriend gets into his character, scooting closer to you and wrapping an arm around your waist. It's true that you are not used to public display of affection but, with Jungkook's warm body pressed against yours, it's not that bad. Maybe because you're playing a role too.

Unfortunately, you're the first ones to arrive... except from Taehyung and Siyeon already sat at your big table. The air isn't really friendly and you do your best to concentrate on the sophisticated table setting. There are huge magnolia flowers decorating the center and your fingers tickle to put them in your suitcase.

"What do you want to drink, love?"

Jungkook's question drifts away your attention. You're surprised not to have only reacted to his voice but also to the pet name and you know for a fact that it's dangerous for your heart.

As he has suggested earlier, he tugs a lock of hair behind your ear, taking the opportunity to caress your cheek. Instant blush and a dry throat take control of your body.

"I think I'll stick to wine tonight since we'll drink a lot tomorrow"

Jungkook nods, an impressed look on his face at your self-control. Now that he thinks about it, he has never seen you drunk. The few times you both drank alcohol, he clearly remembers that you had only one or two glasses. 'You are such the perfect girl for my parents', He thinks but it doesn't sound as ironical as he first imagined.

"What do you want?" You ask him, but also the two other persons around the table out of pure courtesy "I'm gonna order to the bar"

You just want to run away from your ex and the woman he cheated on you with, especially when they start kissing — in a very inappropriate way in public in your opinion.

"Two shots of vodka" Taehyung replies and you know that he does it on purpose

It wasn't rare that your ex wanted to have shots games, especially with vodka. However, you don't like shots games nor vodka. One day, mad and drunk, Taehyung called you 'no fun', spent the rest of the night with his friends and left you alone in that bar.

You try not to look affected and turn toward your supposed boyfriend.

"Like you said, we'll drink a lot tomorrow so just sparkling water for me. Thanks, baby"

Jungkook's smile puts some ointment to your wounded heart. Right as you stand up, he grabs your hand and pulls on it so your face is at the same level as his. You are both looking into each other's eyes and gosh, you love how shiny his black irises are.

For a second, you think that Jungkook is going to kiss you but at the very last second, his lips aim for your cheek, giving you a sweet peck. You don't know if your heart has stopped or beaten faster... Either way, you just need to hide your redden face.

You escape, exhaling a breath you didn't know you hold. You're a little worried about leaving your roommate alone with the evil couple but you also need time to get your head straight.

"So, how long have you been with Y/N?" Taehyung starts — this question has been on his mind ever since he saw two arriving together at the airport

"Not long" Jungkook answers with a deliberate vagueness, his tone nonchalant

Your ex scoffs, his anger rising slowly in his body. He can't believe that you cheated on him with your roommate! You told him so many times that nothing ever happened and would ever happen between you two and now, you're officially together. That can only mean one thing: you were together before Taehyung broke up with you.

"It's a big change for you, right?"

"What do you mean?" Your fake boyfriend asks with a frown, he really doesn't like your ex's tone

"Well, from what I've seen, you're a guy that likes having fun. Going out, hanging out with friends, partying and so on. It's not really something you can do with Y/N. Honestly, she's boring. But Siyeon, she is everything Y/N is not. Maybe Siyeon could introduce you to some of her friends, I mean, if you want to have fun"

Jungkook is seeing red. His fists clench as much as his jaws but punching Taehyung right now won't do any good. He can't believe that your ex is such a dick.

"Y/N is fun" He bites back "When you want to settle for good and start a future, you don't need to party every weekends. Y/N and I are planning things on the long-term, very long-term"

He swears he can see Taehyung's jaw hanging on the floor. His face is red from anger and Jungkook sports a cocky smirk.

The conversation ends here because you come back and soon enough, your friends arrive. Jungkook doesn't waste this opportunity to grab your hand and kiss the back of it, looking at your ex straight into the eyes. He even goes further in the provocation by gently caressing the forth finger of your left hand.

The diner ends with way less tension than at the beginning thanks to the presence of your friends and the spouses-to-be. Everyone makes an effort to spend a great evening with them and you're so happy, really. But you need some calm. Being around Taehyung and Siyeon this long and pretend like everything is fine is very hard to do. That's why, after everyone has finished their plates, you offer Jungkook a little walk on the beach. For your friends, it's just a romantic moment but for you, it's necessary to gain perspective.

And the light breeze and soothing melody of the waves brushing the sand help. It feels like heaven. Everything is so calm around you, just like you're stopped in time. A parenthesis of happiness shared with someone special...

You don't know how long you walk on the beach in silence. It's not like you need to say something. Not when the reflection of the moon on the ocean is so beautiful. It's peaceful to be around Jungkook. He doesn't have to say anything to comfort you, just him being here is enough.

"I don't think I've told you how thankful I am to you" You break the silence "Really, Kook, thank you so much. For coming with me this weekend and going along with my crazy idea" You both chuckle but the moment is full of emotions "But not only that. Thank you so much for everything you've done for me. You always support me and gosh, I'm so lucky to have you in my life" The intensity of Jungkook's black eyes on you spurs you to add: "As roommate"

Just for a second, his jaws clench before he nods and regains his soft features. That's why you think that you might have imagined it.

"You don't have to thank me. I'm happy to be here and I'm happy to help you whenever you want" He pauses before adding, like a joke or a dig "As roommate"

You both stare at each other for a moment. Jungkook is so handsome right now. He has this honey tan from the day in the sun. You realize that he has more of a man features now than when you moved with him. His jaw is more defined, his eyes more piercing and rarer in their doe shape. But he is attractive, that's for sure. He always has been but you don't know why you notice it way more now.

These thoughts disturb you but you don't have to think about them more because your roommate grabs your hand. His touch makes you forget everything else.

You just wonder why he is doing that: no one is around. You don't have to play your fake boyfriend/girlfriend roles. Yet, you don't move your hand away. On the contrary, you squeeze his big and warm palm and head, hand-in-hand, to your room.

. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀ ♡

"Should I sleep on the couch?" Jungkook questions, clearly embarrassed

You have both put your pajamas on, ready for a good night of sleep after all the events of the day. That certainly explains why you haven't talked about the elephant in the room yet: the famous one-bed-situation. Since you're pretending to date, you obviously couldn't take two bedrooms but now, what are you going to do?

You're not kids anymore and the bed is big enough for the both of you. However, you're feeling... weird at the idea of sharing it with your roommate. For you, it's an intimate thing. Yet, you can't let Jungkook sleep on the couch while the whole thing was your idea. But, on the other hand, you can't sleep on the couch yourself when you'll have to be fully operative tomorrow for your friends' wedding.

You are both looking at the bed like it's your worst enemy. Yet, it looks so comfy. It's hard to resist to be honest.

The only solution is...

"We can share the bed"

Your voice is a little higher than usual and you don't think you've ever been this red. But it's okay, you're an adult. It's not such a big deal to have a very handsome and attractive man in your bed, right?

"I mean, if it's okay with you" You add quickly when you spot the surprised look on Jungkook's face

"Personally, I'm okay with it. But are you?"

There is playfulness in his tone and rather than soothing you, it actually makes your heart beat faster for undetermined reasons.

"Yeah, of course" You half-lie — you're not 100% sure you'll survive the tension

"Great then!" Your roommate exclaims but decides to complicate things for you when he takes off his t-shirt, leaving him in his grey jog shorts — because he obviously had to chose grey ones

Your staring eyes push him to give you an explanation.

"Sorry but it's too hot here to sleep with a shirt. But it's nothing you haven't seen, right love?" He teases

Yeah, it's too hot to sleep. Especially when those abs are on display.

You join the bed, using it at an excuse to run away from him. You bite your lower lip and quickly turn around to lay on your side. Facing the wall is the only way to control your want to caress his appealing muscles… You want to slap youself in the face for thinking that because Jungkook is your roommate. Fantasying on him will make living with him very hard and you’re not ready to give up the delicious kimchi fried rice that he sometimes makes in the morning.  

"Good night" He wishes as he jumps in the bed too

"Good night" You reply, your throat a little dry

"Are you okay?" Jungkook worries and scoots closer and rests on his elbow to have a look on your face

Gosh, you're clearly aware of his body right behind you. You can even feel the heat caressing your back. Your own body reacts — or one specific part of your body to be exact.

You nod and shut your eyes close, trying to find sleep as soon as possible. You hear Jungkook chuckles behind you and he gently caresses your shoulder while wishing good night once again and settles on the other side of the bed.

You have to fight every inch of your body not to press yourself against him. You have to remind you once again that Jungkook is your roommate and he only pretends to be your boyfriend. None of this is real. It's just pretend.

But your sleeping body doesn't seem to care.

When you wake up the next morning, your face is resting on his chest, your arm thrown across his torso and your leg clinched around his hips.

You carefully lift up your head and you exhale out of relief that Jungkook is still asleep. You move carefully and slowly to put some distance between your bodies but sleepy Jungkook growls and hugs you tighter.

"Baby..." He mutters in his sleep and gosh, your heart does backflips in your chest

It's just impossible not to die from his cuteness. But there is no time for that because a diplomatic incident between roommates is close.

The first step is to move your leg. But the second you do so, your eyes lands on his morning wood. Red rushes to your cheeks as the bulge is clearly visible in his pants. 'Okay, it's just a physical thing, it has nothing to do with you' You force yourself to remind.

Second step: you gently grab his arm around your waist and push it away. You stop breathing in order to detect any sign of awakening. Thankfully, Jungkook is a heavy sleeper.

Last step of your mission is to get out of bed. You move as slowly as you can and sigh in relief when you're on your feet. You rush to the bathroom, just to witness your blushed cheeks in the mirror. You have to stop reacting so much to Jungkook, your roommate.

But you squeak as your eyes land on your neck: the hickey is well noticeable on your skin. You already know that you'll have to put a huge amount of concealer to hide it — but someway, you don't really want to hide it. You easily convince yourself it’s to get back at Taehyung. 

. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀ ♡

"How the fuck am I supposed to tie it?" Jungkook rants

You peak your head out of the bathroom, your mascara still in your hand. You burst into laugh when you notice Jungkook's tie in a very comical knot. You're pretty sure a 4-year old child would do better. Your roommate throws a death stare at you but it only makes you laugh louder.

"Can you stop?" He growls and tries to tie it again, without success

"Come on, I'll help you"

Your playful smile doesn't leave you as you are walking to him but your heart certainly doesn't miss how handsome Jungkook is right now with his black suit. It's elegant on his fit body, just like it was made for him.

"You're 26 and you don't know how to knot a tie..." You tease him while your hands works on the black fabric, soft as silk

"Yah! It's not like I wear it on a daily basis!" Jungkook defends himself, pouting slightly

Actually, you wouldn't be surprised if he told you that he bought his suit specially for Namjoon's wedding.

"Here you go" You announce when you're done

You swipe away some imaginary dust on his shoulders just to be able to touch him. You admire how the suit wraps perfectly his torso.

"You're beautiful" He suddenly says, voicing your own thoughts about him, and his voice has never been softer

The unexpected compliment makes your moves stop and your eyes lift up to meet his. You can see the sincerity in them and you pat yourself on the shoulder for choosing this long pale yellow with blue flowers dress.

"Thank you" You manage to say despite the tension drying your throat, even more when Jungkook settles his warm hands on your hips

Instinctively, your own hands tighten on his large shoulders and your body gets closer to his. This tension is too much for you and your weak heart. Once again, you have to remember that you are just pretending to date. It's not good for your sake if it looks too real when it's unnecessary because it'll give you hope and then, you'll have your heart broken. And you certainly don't want to have your heart broken by Jungkook because, without completely understanding it, you know that it'll hurt far more than when Taehyung did it.

"We should get going" You state, putting distance as much on a physical plan as on a emotional one

Your roommate clears his throat just like he wanted to clear his mind too and agrees with you. With a weird atmosphere, you two leave your room.

You have about a five-minute walk to pull yourself together and enter your 'girlfriend-who-is-so-in-love-with-her-boyfriend' character — which, you're afraid to say, it's not so hard to do...

. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀ ♡

The wedding ceremony takes place on the beach, with white seats for the few friends that have accompanied you. You're not ashamed to say that you shedded a tear during the vows — giving Jungkook an opportunity to hug you tight and peck your cheek — and you're surely not the only one. The ceremony though was quite simple and quick because Namjoon and Tzuyu have rent one of the reception halls of the hotel.

Just like the rest of the common areas, it's all wooden and white curtains flying away with the breeze. It's not a huge hall but it has enough place for a dance floor, a bar and some tables for lunch. Honestly, it's your dream wedding since everything is so romantic. The only problem is that you don't have anyone to marry...

The man you thought you were going to spend your life with cheated on you and is right here with that girl. And the man you could want to marry is faking your relationship. You don't really know how everything went so out of control recently...

But it doesn't really matter because the said fake-boyfriend leads you to your table, a hand on your lower back. This very hand slightly goes down as you approach your ex. You don't hear it but Taehyung makes a not so nice comment about your roommate, complaining about how you could choose a tattoo artist — basically describing him as a delinquent — when you were with your ex, working at a prestigious law firm in Seoul. This comment makes Jungkook tense, especially his fists and jaws. He could throw punch but it wouldn't be smart — he doesn’t know why his fighting instinct jumps up every time he spots the stupid face of your ex. So Jungkook whispers, loud enough for Taehyung to hear it, something so scandalous that you gasp.

"Can I tattoo my name on your ass? It'd look so fucking cute"

How can he say something like that?! It's so scandalous, so... hot. Thankfully, by the time you should respond, you're far enough from Taehyung and Siyeon for them to spot your words.

"Jungkook!" You scold him but your red cheeks don’t do much to pretend to be firm "Don't say that!"

"Sorry" He apologizes but his proud smile is a clear sign that he doesn't regret at all "But the face Taehyung made totally worth it"

You roll your eyes playfully and push on his shoulder to make him sit down at your table. Since you'll have to say a few words — a little speech you've spent hours to write with Jungkook's help —, you are given the honor to be at the bride and groom's table.

You give a warm smile to Yoongi, Namjoon's best man. Despite knowing Namjoon for some years now, you've never spent too much time with Yoongi. It can be mainly explained by the fact that the black-haired man is not fond of social events and rather much prefers staying at home. The occasions on which you get to see this rare species are per se exceptional. However, Yoongi's beauty never fails to amaze you: his skin is so white, perfect like the most polished porcelain, but his hair is so black, just like his eyes. The contrast is strong, almost supernatural. Perhaps it's also the way that you can't read his face most of the times.

The way Yoongi stays quiet, looking intensely at you and Jungkook, makes you think that he can read right through you. Does he know that you're faking everything with your roommate? Even if he does, he welcomes you with a brief but friendly nod of head.

Jungkook seems to be more at ease around Yoongi than you are, starting the conservation without being offended by the silence from the other side of the table. Someway, a proud smile appears on your face when you watch your (fake) boyfriend trying his best to be friendly with your social circle. You know that, despite Jungkook's nature of friendlyness, he really wants to be appreciated by your friends. It warms your heart that he is doing more efforts in one weekend than Taehyung has done in a whole year of relationship.

You can't help a giggle at Jungkook being totally immersed into his story of how he went to the wrong apartment one time after drinking too much, in the wrong fucking building. You put your hand on his on the table and you're sure that your roommate doesn't even notice how intimately he intertwines yours fingers. He doesn't have to notice actually, because you do it for the two of you, blushing lightly under your makeup.

"It's good to see you happy" Yoongi suddenly says at you after Jungkook's storytime

You're a bit surprised by Yoongi's words though. First of all, because he doesn't talk much. Then, because you were happy before, you mean with Taehyung, right? Didn't you seem happy before? Are you happier now in a fake relation?

Those questions make you slightly frown and you just can respond with a nod of head. You try to deviate the conversation in order to think about that and ask Jungkook to tell the one time he has to take down the whole sink of the bathroom because you thought your ring was in it but it was actually in your jewelry box.

Thankfully, Namjoon and Tzuyu's arrival is a good distraction for your brain, and followed by the food served. You watch Jungkook frowning as he is chewing on his lobster, notifying you that he enjoys the meal very much. You even hear him exclaim a 'damn!' of appreciation.

On your side, Tzuyu elbows you to catch your attention.

"You look so in love. I'm so happy you found someone good after Tae" She whispers

You look in love? On the one hand, it's a good thing that you are fooling everyone but on the other hand, you're not sure to be that great of an actress. Do you look in love because you are? If that so, you are in a big mess.

"Well, Jungkook is nice" You choose to respond, carefully avoiding the part about you being in love with your roommate/fake-boyfriend

"He is whipped for you too, you know. He hasn't stopped looking at you when you weren't paying attention" Tzuyu giggles

Being taken aback is an understatement. You shouldn't pay too much care about what Tzuyu is saying because she thinks you are dating Jungkook. Maybe she just wants to be nice, or maybe your roommate's acting is amazingly believable for the people around you but you, on the other hand, shouldn't believe it too much. It's getting harder and harder to separate the genuine attentions of the friend with whom you've been sharing an apartment for four years from his behaviour as your pretend boyfriend. And you are messing with the two, too.

You clear your mind, swallowing the rest of your glass of wine. You don't want to think about that, you just want to enjoy your friends' wedding and enjoy someone 'loving' you for the weekend, even if it's just pretend and even if it ends tomorrow morning.

This new attitude allows you to recover your usual smile and you don't even mind Jungkook's arm on your chair when the diner is over, just like a protective boyfriend would do.

It doesn't mean that you get to leave your table just yet: now is the time for the emotional —sometimes embarrassing — speeches.

Namjoon is the first one to start. He thanks everyone for coming to the wedding and basically declares his love all over again to his new wife. Tzuyu can't help a few tears during her own speech, insisting that the wedding is just like she has imagined since she was a young girl and that all the guests — minus Taehyung you imagine — are welcomed to their house after their honeymoon.

You are intrigued by Yoongi's speech, wondering what such a quiet person will say in front of a crowd, even though it's just a gathering of a few friends. You are truly surprised to see how at ease he is. It looks like he is doing that exercise everyday, even adding a few jokes. Yoongi doesn't talk for long but that's not surprising. He just expresses his genuine happiness for his best friend and wishes the best for the newly married couple.

When it's your turn, you can't help but feel a little stressed. Jungkook must feel it because he gently squeezes your hand and gives you an encouraging smile.

You stand up and you immediately regret looking at your ex since he is making out with his girlfriend — in quite a disgusting way if someone asks you. You quickly look away, searching for a more friendly face and settle on Hoseok. His sweet smile gives you the courage to start speaking after clearing your throat and swiping your sweaty palms on your dress.

"I'm not used to give speeches but I'm used to talk about love. I think it's no secret for anyone here that I'm a huge romantic. I mean, romantic comedies have no secret for me!" You're relieved to earn a few laughs "And I have to say that I'm a little bit jealous about Tzuyu and Namjoon: it was love at first sight and they haven't stopped loving each other since then. I think we all want to have someone that loves us like Namjoon and Tzuyu love each other. I am so happy to be here to witness your love" You say to the couple, your eyes a little blurring because of your tears "I just want you to be happy every single day of the rest of your life together and I hope I'll be able to stand in front of you in the future and tell you that I found a love just like yours"

You can't stop yourself from looking at Jungkook when you end your speech. You only hear in the distance the cheering of your friends because you are too occupied to try analyzing your roommate's face.

He is looking at you funny and you don't know why. Did you say something wrong?

You don't have time to question yourself more than that since a crying bride hugs you tight and whispers in your ear how touched she is by your words.

When you get to look back at Jungkook, he seems to be the same as always: bunny smile and scrunched nose. You might have imagined everything, after all, you had tears in your eyes...

. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀ ♡

It's dance time.

You wouldn't usually dare to step on the dance floor but Jungkook has whined to you. You finally sighed and took his reached hand. And you don't regret because you are having a lot of fun, dancing with your friends. You don't even care that your moves are not very elegant because, except from Hoseok, your friends are not professional dancers.

You have to admit that Jungkook is pretty good but it's not surprising since the man has no weakness.

However, the whole mood changes when a slow dance fills the speakers. You hesitate to step out of the dance floor but your roommate gently grabs your waist and pulls you closer to him.

You rest one hand on his large shoulder and his tattooed palm wraps the other. Soft, warm and comforting. Just like his personality, you think to yourself. You feel coated in a strange atmosphere but it’s not unpleasant, not at all. It’s good, it’s perfect. You realize that you love dancing for Jungkook, you love how he holds you tight against him. 

“Taehyung is looking at us” He whispers in your ears and you’re surprised to have even forget about him while he is the very reason of you being in Jungkook’s arms “Can I kiss your neck?”

You don’t think twice before nodding — and not because of your ex. 

Your breathe itches when a soft pair of lips lands on your thin skin. Goosebumps cover your body but it’s not like you can’t think about it. All that you can feel is the tenderness of the kisses Jungkook settles on you. It’s divine, truly divine. You’re too caught in the moment and maybe Jungkook feels the same because his kiss turns into sucking. His hickeys on your neck heats to your body, builds tension in you and you’re having a hard time concealing a moan. You wish he’d never stop.

"Your speech was nice" He says lowly, almost out of breathe

He keeps his face buried in the crook of your neck so you don’t see the way his dark eyes shines with hunger. 

"Yeah, I changed the end a little bit" You manage to answer

You don't know why your heart beats so fast. It's not the first time you're this close to Jungkook during the weekend but it feels different. You want to touch him more gently, almost with love — which one, you're not sure yet.

"It was perfect. You were perfect"

Is he aware of what he is doing to you? Probably not. Your roommate doesn't know that those sweet, sweet words are the kind of things that makes you fall in love.

At this moment, you realize that you are, indeed, in love with Jungkook. Since when? You don't know and it's not even important. You have a way bigger problem: you are in love with your roommate, who is currently pretending to be your boyfriend. So, it's basically a you-problem and if you tell Jungkook the truth, he will just say that he was acting just like you freaking asked him to!

To sum up: you're doomed.

It's not like you didn't know. Like you said, you're a fan of rom-com. You should have known that you would fall in love at some point, especially when the guy is this attractive... And yet, here you are: just acknowledging that you love your roommate, in a middle of a slow dance, in the most romantic place on Earth.

You sigh at your stupidity.

"Everything's fine?" Jungkook asks with a frown

"Yeah, yeah. I just need to use the bathroom real quick" You let him know

You give him a small smile that disappears when Jungkook gets closer to land the sweetest peck on your cheek, very close to the corner of your mouth. The man is going to kill you.

"I'll wait for you" He promises and gosh, you wish he was talking about your love and not your pee

You nod and run away as quickly as you can, not aware that your ex has followed you.

Your fake boyfriend, however, has seen it clear as day. And he was ready to stop him when Siyeon came in Jungkook's way.

"There is no point" She says, sipping on her glass "You know that Taehyung wants her back, right?"

Even though Jungkook's jaws clench, he nods. He couldn't misinterpret the way Taehyung was looking as you. He was jealous of Jungkook but he was also hurt. And who Jungkook is kidding? You literally asked him to play your boyfriend because of Taehyung. If he asks for a second chance, will you say yes?

"She's with me now" He says with a dry tone

Jungkook doesn't know if he is trying to convince Siyeon or himself. He has a little hope that you won't fall for Taehyung again — for some selfish reasons but also because he doesn't want you to be hurt again.

"Yeah, and Tae is with me but here we are" Siyeon says with bitterness "If they are getting back together, why shouldn't we be together? We could have some fun" She adds with her seductive honey voice

Siyeon is beautiful, Jungkook acknowledges that. And she is damn good at flirting, scooting closer to your roommate, almost touching him. But Jungkook can't do that to you. He is supposed to be your boyfriend and it would be pretty fucked up if he was involved with the woman your ex cheated on you with. More than that, he is not attracted by Siyeon at all.

"Like I said, I'm with Y/N"

Jungkook's tone is a little harsher.

"And like I said, Taehyung wants her back"

Jungkook doesn't know why this memory comes to his mind right now. Maybe it's just defense mechanism: it comes to his mind to reassure him that you won't actually get back together with Taehyung. It's strange though because he has tried so hard in the past to erase it from his brain... But right now, it can't fight it and this night, the first time you invited Taehyung at your place at the beginning of your relationship a year ago, is clear as day.

Jungkook's earphones and video games were quite effective to conceal any noise coming from your room. Your roommate knew that you had a boyfriend, you had told him about it and you looked so happy and excited that he couldn't say 'no' when you had asked him if you could invite Taehyung here. It was also your apartment so you could bring anyone you wanted to be honest. But your caring nature still told you that the correct behavior was to ask your roommate first.

However, Jungkook knew that something would happen in your bedroom tonight, which was making things awkward for him. When you had moved in, Jungkook was very clear with himself not to see you as a woman, just for purpose of healthy cohabitation. He tricked his brain so he could see you like a little sister and it was very convenient when you would step out of your room in the morning with a sleepy face, messy hair and a t-shirt barely covering your panties. After witnessing that scene a few times, Jungkook adopted a new habit: going to the gym before you would wake up.

But now, with a man in your room, you were not your innocent self and Jungkook knew it damn well. It was hard to pretend you weren't probably naked and having sex. Your roommate did not want to hear a single thing about what was going on, which explained the maximum volume of the video game in his ears.

However, he had a problem: he was so fucking thirsty.

After debating for a few long minutes if he should risk it, he decided to be quick and grab a glass of water.

Opening his door, he peaked his head out carefully, waiting if he could hear something but it was quiet for now. 'That's my luck' He thought and basically ran to the kitchen. But well, it was not really his luck because, as he was waiting for his glass to fill up, he heard.

It was faint but he couldn't mistake it: you were moaning. Cute little moans that you wanted to mutter it seemed. From your sounds, it was hard not to imagine how you would look like all naked, pressed against him when he would fuck you dumb, making you scream his name and not those small groans. Jungkook could feel his cock hardening despite his scolding to his body. He didn't want to physically react at you having sex with another man — no, having sex, period. He was ready to run back to his room when he heard your conversation. He knew he shouldn't listen but his curiosity had won the battle.

"Did you finish?" You asked with a small voice

"Yeah" Taehyung replied between his pantings, his smile noticeable in his voice "And you?"

"Well... no" You were clearly embarrassed to confess it

Jungkook almost bursted into laugh. Not to praise himself but it was rare he wouldn't make a woman come before him. However, it was not a problem if it happened because some women just need more time to reach the high. He would just eat her out or finger her until both sides were equally satisfied.

However, he wouldn't have imagined your boyfriend's response.

"Sorry, doll, I'm so tired. Next time, okay?"

Your roommate had no problem picturing you nodding at him. You didn't like conflicts, you didn't like contradicting people. Sometimes it was frustrating for Jungkook — he even had had to take your phone when you had called the after-sales service for your computer. The employee had told you they couldn't do anything and, of course, when Jungkook had stepped in and clearly said that he wouldn't give up until you were fully refunded, the employee had seemed to be nicer all of sudden and a magical solution appeared.

"I'm going to the bathroom" You notified Taehyung

Jungkook panicked and was quick to reach his room, your conversation with your boyfriend replaying in his brain. He couldn't understand why Taehyung would do that. He also wondered if it was usual for you not to come when you had sex with him. That's things he knew he shouldn't think about but it was hard not to do when he knew you would have come with him... And Jungkook wouldn't let you sleep without at least two more orgasms just because you deserved it for being this cute and this pretty.

But his body froze when he heard you entering the shower. The bathroom was next to his bedroom and the shower shared a wall with his room. At first, Jungkook thought he was imagining things and that it was just the water running thought the pipes. But no.

You were masturbating.

Jungkook could hear your choked moans, probably when the showerhead was aiming your clit directly. And it was not good for your roommate. It was impossible not to have a boner.

"Oh god!" You moaned, a little louder and Jungkook was gone

He said "fuck it" and freed his hard cock from his sweatpants. He started pumping his dick at your groans, picturing you in this fucking shower pleasuring yourself. He imagined joining you and making you cum while your stupid boyfriend was sleeping in your bed.

"Fuck" You moaned again and it was even more arousing for Jungkook because you never cursed

You were such a good girl, and now you were masturbating right next to him. He wondered which naughty words could come from your appealing mouth when you were fucked good. Jungkook would have loved making you say all kinds of bad words, turning you into a sin when you were the perfect picture of an angel.

"Shit, Y/N..." Jungkook whispered to himself when your image became too vivid for his sanity

Your moans got a pitch higher and Jungkook knew you were close. He increased his pace, stroking his dick insanely fast but he couldn't stop. This moment was one of the most erotic ones of his life: you pleasuring yourself in the shower, having no idea that he was listening to you and jerking off on you.

"Come on, baby, cum for me" Jungkook spurred you even though you couldn't hear him

But it didn't matter because chance made you come right after, and Jungkook finished too, his cum making a mess on his fist and pants.

Even though it was one of the best masturbating sessions of his life, Jungkook promised himself not to ever think about it again because, at the end of the day, what he did was so fucking wrong.

. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀ ♡

You made a decision. You looked at yourself in the mirror and found a strength you didn't know you had. And you are sure about it: you are going to step out of this bathroom and you are going to confess to Jungkook.

So what if he doesn't share your feelings? Jungkook is a good man, he won't make a fool out of you and if anything, you know he'll just feel bad for you. But the most important thing is that you are sure of our feelings and you are not ashamed of them. Actually, it's a privilege to have such a friend and roommate in your life.

You give yourself some last words of encouragement and step out of your hideout.

Instantly, all the courage you've managed to gather fades away because you are facing Taehyung. You hate that he can destroy so easily the mere confidence Jungkook gave you. You wished you could just avoid him but he calls you out.

"What do you want?" You ask a little cold

"Give me another chance" He says out of the blunt

Your eyes widen as you wonder if you heard well. You certainly did not expect that. But you also can't believe his nerve: he cheated on you, came to the your friends' wedding with his new girl and now he wants another chance?!

Honestly, if he had asked a few days ago, maybe you would have fall again for him — because you genuinely thought that what you were feeling for him was love — but it's not the case anymore. Not after Jungkook. You acknowledge that it's a strange thing to say when you are actually not in a real relationship with the man and that you have tried real hard to convince yourself that your feelings were not what they looked like. However, now that you have stopped denying, there is no turning back.

You only manage to reply a chocked 'what?', still shocked by Taehyung's announcement.

"I made a mistake. A big mistake" Your ex explains, getting closer to you with hope in his — you hate to say it — beautiful brown eyes "Seeing you with someone else made me realize it. I am so sorry, Y/N, please just give me another chance"

"Are you drunk?!" You exclaim, half choking

"I'm not drunk!" Taehyung defends himself, almost offended "We could start again and forgive each other. You know that I—“ But you cut him off

"Forgive each other?" You scoff "I did nothing wrong, Taehyung!"

"Well, you lied to me when you said that nothing was going with your roommate and that nothing could ever happen" He states

He clearly looks pissed but it's not your problem. You can't believe he is placing on the same level his cheating and your fake relation with Jungkook — well, to be fair, Taehyung doesn't know it's fake and he probably assumes that you've cheated too if you are with someone else this fast after your breakup.

"But I didn't cheat!" You yell, unable to contain your frustration "You cheated on me and you broke my heart but guess what? Thank you because if you haven't, I wouldn't have noticed how bad you are for me. I don't love you anymore and I am not going to apologize for finding a good man who takes care of me. Jungkook is good for me and I'm happy when I'm with him. He makes me happy and I'm in love with him. So please, be respectful to Siyeon and I will act like this conversation never happened"

You turn away, proud of your badass moment but stop and squeak. Jungkook is standing right there. He. Has. Heard. Everything.

If the ground could open and swallow you whole, you'll be blessed. But it stays hard as rock for a greater humiliation of yourself. You didn't plan to confess — if you can call that a confession when you made it to the wrong person — this way.

You stop breathing, not knowing what to say or do. Everything went so wrong so fast.

But as usual, Jungkook saves the day and simply grabs your hand to escape your ex-boyfriend's stare.

. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀ ♡

After the little interaction with Taehyung, neither Jungkook nor you are in the mood for partying. Even though you feel guilty for leaving your friends' wedding party, you know that you'll only ruin the festive atmosphere. Your roommate seems like he doesn't mind and you're pretty sure he feels the same since he has not smiled once, which is rare, but you don't quite get why he is like that.

You don't have to talk to each other to agree with heading back to your room. Maybe being in a more quiet place will help to get your mind straight.

You still don't speak to Jungkook when you reach your door. You don't really know what to say and the same goes for your fake boyfriend.

The awkward air around you spurs you to lock yourself in the bathroom. Honestly, you pray that a hot shower will clear your mind and yeah, it does help a little. But when you grab the knot after changing into your pajama, you don't feel like you're strong enough to face Jungkook. The truth is that you’re embarrassed but you don’t even know why. Is it because he has heard you? Or because he has seen you loosing your temper in front of your ex? Or just because your feelings are all over the place and you don’t know how to deal with it?

He heard everything and you totally terrified that he'll break your heart, even though it's not what he wants. But one thing is sure: you can't hide in the bathroom forever. So you gather your courage and open the door.

You didn't expect to see a defeated Jungkook, sit on the bed with his head in his hands. He must have been like this all the time you were hiding because he is still wearing his shirt, even though he has loosen up his tie around his neck.

You hate to notice how hot he looks despite his... his what actually? Misery? It can't be that.

"Hey" You say softly not to scare Jungkook who is so deep in his thoughts that he hasn't heard you approaching

"Hey" He replies automatically

He lifts his head up and your heart squeezes at his beauty and sadness in his black eyes.

"I think we should talk" You start, not very sure if you're ready for it actually

"Yes, we should" He encourages you with a faint smile

You sit next to him and you wish you weren't that aware of the heat coming from his body. You are sensitive when he is around, it's like you can feel things ten times harder than usual.

"About what you heard..." You wince, embarrassed about how things went with Taehyung — and also you're not sure how much Jungkook has heard actually

"Yeah, don't worry" He cuts you off "I know that you had to act like we are together, so you don't have to mind"

You don't like that. You don't like how cold and hurt he sounds. You don't like that he thinks you lied about your feelings. It's almost painful.

"It's not really how I wanted things to go" You scoff, speaking to yourself more than to him

You're feeling frustrated. You run your hand through your hair and grunt when you destroy the bun you forget you had done. Everything is going wrong. You wanted to confess but it should have come naturally. Why Taehyung keeps messing with everything in your life?

You are so mad against him that you can't even stay sit. You almost jump on your feet and start walking back and forth in front of Jungkook who is looking at you like you are crazy.

"Listen to me, okay?" You find the courage to say after a long minute of silence

You stay straight in front of him, hoping that your feet locked on the wooden floor will help you to get straight to the point.

"I realized something" You continue "This weekend, when I got to spend time with you, I realized that I don't love Taehyung anymore"

You are almost out of breathe with how fast your heart is beating and even more when you see the surprise on Jungkook's face.

"I don't love him. And also, I didn't lie when I said that I love you"

You want to pat yourself on your back for finally saying those words that scared you so much.

"I really, really love you, Jungkook"

You hoped it was like in movies, that your confession brought his confession but he stays painfully silent. Is it the moment you're going to be rejected?

"Can you please say something?" You beg with a broken voice and tears in your eyes

"I don't want to be your rebound, Y/N" He finally says

What?

Does he really think that? Doesn't he realize how perfect he is? That you've never felt something this strong for everyone, not even Taehyung?

"You're not!" You promise "Jungkook, you're not my rebound. You are just... perfect. I don't even know how I could have been so blind. I love you not because of Taehyung, not because you pretended to be my boyfriend this weekend. I love you because you are you"

"Can you please stop talking?" He asks softly, bringing his inked hand to his face and breaking your heart at the same time "You're confused right now, I get it" You want to argue but he doesn't give you time "But you can't do that to me. If you say that you love me just to break my heart afterward, I don't know if I can take it, not after this long of dreaming you would say those words to me"

You're taken aback now. What does he mean? You're afraid to misinterpret and yet, you want to believe it so much.

"I love you" You can't help but say one more time, just because you can't contain your love inside you anymore

You love Jungkook too much for your own good but who cares? He deserves so much.

You just want to feel close to him now, and for that you walk to him and place your body between his manspreading. You cup his so perfect face, admiring his beautiful dark eyes, the little scar in his cheek and his lips. He is so handsome that you're having a hard time breathing.

"I love you" You repeat so lowly that it's almost a whisper

You seal your words with a kiss. And it's the best kiss ever, especially when Jungkook kisses you back. The sensation of the cold lip ring against your burning skin is new but not unpleasant —definitely not unpleasant. Slowly, your hands leave his jaws to tie behind his neck as you're afraid he'll scoot away. However, it seems like Jungkook wants to have you closer — which you are absolutely down for — and grabs your hips to urge you to sit on his lap.

This proximity is great to deepen your kiss. You press your chest against his and your fingers play with his soft and black hair. You honestly didn't know that kissing someone could be this good. And all the stars seem to be aligned for you since Jungkook loves your kiss too, the proof being that he wraps your body with his strong arms, making sure you'll stay against him.

It doesn't take too long for the romantic kiss to turn into something else. Something more... heated.

You just can't help your hips from grinding on his lap, earning a low grunt of satisfaction from Jungkook. He even grabs your waist just to press you deeper, feel you better. You both internally curse at your clothes but you don't want to leave the warmth and wetness of each other's lips.

With regret, you separate from his mouth to catch your breathe but the air is cut off your lungs as you look at him. He is insanely handsome. His hair is a mess, similar to when he wakes up but sexier since you know you're the reason why. He also has this cute side with his faint blushed cheeks, but his lips are what attract you the most: they are glossy by the mix of your salivas and swollen. You even wonder how his lip ring is still hanging on his thin skin.

"Are you sure you want to do this? Because I'm not sure I can stop if we keep going"

You're surprised by the raspiness of his voice. Sure, you know his morning and hoarse voice but right now, it's different. Deeper, sexier and addictive.

You can only shiver, wondering how this voice would sound saying some outrageous filthy words.

You look at him in the eyes and they've never been this dark. But they are beautiful, so beautiful that you stop breathing for a second.

"I'm sure, Kook"

You don't recognize your voice either. You're not sure you've ever sounded this desperate before and yet, you don't care. Because it's true: you are desperate for Jungkook. Everyone seems to know except him and that's frustrating. Doesn't he know that this kiss is the best one you've ever had? That you don't even want to feel someone else's lips on you? Why can't he believe you when you say that you love him?

Frustration from these questions pushes you to capture his mouth again but this time, your hands work on his shirt to open every button. You definitely want to feel more of his skin and it's like a relief when his shirt is open enough for you to caress his bare chest. His skin is soft and warm under your fingertips but his hard muscles are right under it.

You scoot a little over, abandoning his perfect mouth to look at his torso and gosh, what a sexy man he is...

You only have a little peak of his tattoo shoulder and only the upper part of his abs but you are blushing like crazy. Jungkook is too hot to handle, that's for sure, but you don't really care burning yourself.

You run your hands on his skin and you're surprised — and pleased — to feel his hardening cock twitching as you do you.

"You drive me crazy" Jungkook whispers but you're not sure he is talking to you or to himself

The tattooed man buries his face in the crook of your neck to enjoy your touch even more. The second you are getting back at your task on the remaining buttons, he starts setting wet kisses on your throat, which makes you loose your mind. You can't focus on your moves, you only feel his warm mouth on your thin skin, kissing and sucking.

Your roommate smirks a little when he spots the hickey he's done earlier and he can't help but suck on it again, making it bigger and redder. He really much enjoys your choked moans but one thing he doesn't know is how wet your panties are right now. You're happy to be sited because you perfectly know that your legs are as soft as marshmallow.

But this hickey is not enough for Jungkook, not when the shadow of your ex still flows in his head. He wants you to be his, and not only for this weekend, not only for pretending. And he needs a visible proof of that. That's why he creates a whole constellation of purple marks on your throat and it's addicting. If it’s childish, he doesn’t care. 

"Kook" You whine at some point when you reach your limit — you need him right now

"Tell me what you want" He teases you while he knows damn well that you're too shy you ask for it

You bite your swollen lips, driving Jungkook crazy. He really wants to kiss you again but he also wants you to answer, to see this new side of you.

"I-I want you" You decide to settle for, looking away but it's not enough for your roommate

"I'm right here" He says with a smirk

"Please" You whine, your eyes settling in his with all your courage

Fuck, Jungkook thinks. He doesn't even want to tease you anymore. You're too good for him and he can't wait any longer.

With ease, he grabs your waist and settles you on the comfortable bed. You blush even more when he gets rid of his shirt with urge. You brush his firm torso with your eyes and bite your lower lip at the noticeable bulge in his pants.

"Take your shorts and panties off for me" He asks and you deliver 

You're not the most confident person when it comes to sex but with Jungkook, you feel safe. And the way he looks at you, like you were the finest piece of art, gives you some assurance.

"Shit, your pussy is so pretty" He curses lowly at your glistening cunt

His rough fingers slide up and down your wet folds, making you whine. You just need more, you're too horny for teasing but Jungkook doesn't care.

His thumb slowly draws circles on your clit and you can't help but arch your back and grab the sheets in your fists. Jungkook absolutely loves watching you like this. You are so gorgeous all desperate for his touch — just like he is for your love. He didn't know he'd have the chance to see this part of you but now, he is not sure he can get enough of it.

"Kook" You moan as his thumb applies more pressure

"Do you know how beautiful you are?" He asks but slides two fingers inside you at the same time, preventing you from answering 

You gasp and moan simultaneously as the stretch feels so, so good and as his words are the softest ones.

"I'm gonna make you cum so good, baby" He promises

He enhances his pace, kicking the air of your lungs, and his free hand pushes your top higher so he can suck on your hard nipples. The cold metal of his lip ring on your burning skin and his teeth teasing your sensitive buds make it impossible for you to think straight — not that it’s time to do math anyway.

Your right hand goes up to caress or tug on his black hair or push him deeper against you — you can't know.

Your walls start clenching sporadically, a sign that you are close. But it's so good you don't want to stop. However, Jungkook seems to have a whole other plan since he slides a third digit in your dripping cunt.

"Oh gosh!" You chock

"Please cum for me, love"

You hate — love — that he is using the pet name because there is nothing you'd refuse when he does so. You reach the highest high ever, shaking underneath him and clenching on his fingers.

You have to take a moment to reach back to Earth but Jungkook doesn't urge you. He pull off his fingers from your hole and settles sweet kisses on your boobs, neck and cheeks. You're not sure you've ever felt so good. Jungkook is too good. You love him too much, so much that you want to cry but you gather all your strength to prevent your eyes from getting wet.

"You did good, baby" He praises softly, kissing your forehead

The smile that his words has drawn on your face disappears when you watch Jungkook leave toward the bathroom.

"Where are you going?" You ask, panic noticeable in your voice

"You cummed hard and you had a long day, you must tired" He explains like it was evident that you deserved some rest

"But... what about you?" You vaguely point out his crotch

"You don't have to worry about me" He smiles but you pout

It's not that you worry about him, it's that you want him. Yeah, you did come hard but you feel like you would never get enough of him, of his touch. And it took you a lot of courage to get to that point, you won’t chicken out now. 

“I want to feel you” You manage to say with burning cheeks

Jungkook hesitates but a little pouted ‘please’ from you convinces him to come back next to you and kiss you even deeper. You enjoy his weight on your body and you enjoy his warmth, especially when he takes off you top completely. You’re left totally naked under him and you want him to be just like you. You mentally curse at his remaining suit pants but your bodies are too close to each other for you to sneak a hand and free him from his clothes (your only reward is the fabric of his pants rubbing your sensitive clit delightfully). 

Your silenced wish comes true when Jungkook lifts up his body enough to undo his pants and slides them down along with his briefs and god, what a sight! You certainly didn’t expect him to be this big and this thick. You get it now when you heard him on the phone with his friends from time to time, bragging about his size. And still, he is damn modest! 

You stare at his hard member, not really daring to touch it even when you crave to do so. And Jungkook seems to read your mind as he delicately takes your hand and places it around his dick that immediately twitches. Just like the rest of his body, his skin is soft, velvety even, but rock hard — you’re not complaining at all. You are completely hypnotized and you instinctively start some light stroking.

Jungkook closes his eyes and breathes deeply through his nose since your touch is delightful. Better than he could ever be able to imagine. Even with his cock in your hand, he can feel your shyness yet your tenderness. You’re an innocent girl doing filthy stuff and someway, it makes him incredibly horny. Call it corruption kink, he’d call it love. Now that he has a taste of you, he doesn’t want anyone else to touch you because there is no way they won’t fall for you. 

“Do you like it?” You shyly ask when you brush his tip with your thumb, sending shiver down Jungkook’s body

“Yeah” He says in a shaky breathe

He cannot control a drop of pre cum from escaping, which makes his tip glistening — and appetizing for you — as you spread it with your fingertip. 

You lift up your eyes and meet a very, very hot Jungkook. His eyes are dark, intense but you still can spot some shininess. It tells you that he likes how you touch him. It’s what you needed to gain  confidence and enhance just a bit your pace around his dick. 

Maybe you’re an expert, or maybe you don’t realize it but you are caressing the very sensitive part connecting his tip to his length every time you go up, and Jungkook is two seconds away from losing it. With a low growl, he quite roughly cups your face and kisses you messily. The sudden force and urge that you feel from him is overwhelming and you don’t even know how to move anymore. That’s why your hand stands still on his member that you feel twitching from time to time — especially when the tattooed man captures your swollen lower lip between his teeth. 

“You are so precious” He whispers and his words seem so profound that your heart squeezes “Let me make love to you” 

You nod instantly because there is nothing more that you’d like but then you freeze as reality hits you. 

“I don’t have condoms” You say but disappointment is as noticeable on your face as in your voice 

Jungkook looks at you, amused. He gives a quick and sweet kiss on your nose before heading towards his bag where his wallet is. With a victorious “Ah-Ha!”, he brandishes a metallic square fold. 

It’s your time to look at him funny and, when he realizes it, Jungkook turns a little bit white — a sign of his panic. 

“It’s not what you think!” He exclaims with urge “I didn’t plan to have sex with you — or with anyone! It’s just that I always have one with me, you know, just to be careful”

You wait for him to stop rambling and open your mouth, amused.

“I didn’t say anything” 

The playful smile on your face cocks a brow on Jungkook’s face. 

“You don’t have to speak, woman, I know what you think” He states as his usual confidence comes back 

You playfully push his shoulder with your foot but Jungkook gently grabs it and settles a kiss on your inner ankle. The gesture is so tender, so intimate and so lovely that your heart could melt out of love. He can’t not realize that everyone would fall in love with him when he acts like that. Everyone is looking for someone that makes you feel this cherished and you just wish you were able to make him feel the same. 

The tension builds up when Jungkook marks his way up your leg with kisses. Each one of them draws delightful goosebumps and wets your pussy a little more. When he is close enough to your core, Jungkook kisses your inner thigh one last time before settling a sweet kiss on your clit and you can’t help but giggle like a stupid teenager in love — but well, you’re in love with him. 

You’ve never been this impatient while waiting for someone to put a condom on but Jungkook seems to shake your whole universe. When he is done and has settled his strong body between your opened legs, he looks at you just like he was wordlessly asking for your consent again, which you grant with a big smile and a light stroke on his cheek. 

He still teases you a little bit when he grabs the base of his cock and slides it between your folds. The pornographic moan that escapes your perfect lips drives Jungkook crazy, and he cannot resist anymore. He needs to feel you. So he places his tip at your entrance and almost faints out of pleasure as your tight cunt throbs around him. He has no other choice than to bury his face in the crook of your neck to prevent from groaning your name, which would be very embarrassing this soon. 

His tattooed hand finds yours and he intertwines your fingers in the best possible as he enters you slowly. You can’t help a gasp and squeeze his hand tighter because gosh, he is big. He is definitely stretching you, almost to your limits, and the pain blends into pleasure — something you’ve never felt. 

“You’re okay?” He asks, not without worry, his eyes scanning your face

“You’re big” 

“Sorry” He apologizes, almost embarrassed 

“It’s so good” You reassure him and you witness relief on his handsome face 

When Jungkook captures your lips again, you feel his urge coming back and he finally pushes his whole length into your cunt. You feel full. Jungkook is big and thick, and he fits so well in you. You wish you could keep him like that forever. Your legs wrap around his firm torso to keep him close, to cuddle him. 

When he settles a slow but passionate pace, you feel like in Heaven. You love how Jungkook makes love to you because he is gentle but he still provides deep and strong dick strokes making you see stars. You moan louder and Jungkook curses when you tighten around him. 

“You feel so right” He whispers in your ears before kissing the thin skin of your throat

His inked hand hasn’t left yours and his other one his gently caressing your boob. His hips know how to move to hit that special place inside you. 

“Fuck” You moan and Jungkook remembers how bad he wanted you to say that when he heard you masturbating

It’s even better when you curse while he is fucking you and that thought spurs him to enhance his pace. Long forgotten is the slow and romantic rhythm, Jungkook has turned into a sex freak. The air is kicked out of your lungs, you can’t even moan anymore: your mouth hangs open. 

“You’re so good for me, baby” He praises you “You’re taking me so fucking good”

His words make you clench and you know that he has felt it because his hand squeezes yours equally. You’re completely high on sex, your skin is sweaty and your brain is fogged. The sinfulness of your clapping skins and the light growls — due to his physical efforts and your magic pussy — in your ears arouses you beyond words. You’ve never been fucked like this before and you don’t want it any other way from now on. 

“You like being fucked like that, uh?” He smirks 

“Yes, yes” You chant, your brain fogged with pleasure of his dick pounding into you 

“Perfect little girl is taking a big fat cock” He grunts and god, how sinful he sounds

“More, more!” You beg

Jungkook looks at you with a mix of awe and surprise — since he can’t believe how naughty his little cute roommate is — but he is happy to provide. 

He digs his knees strongly into the mattress and lifts up his upper body, enjoying the view of your tits bouncing at the same time, and makes sure to pound into your dripping cunt rougher. Your whiny moans are so lovely that even if he would love to drive Taehyung mad by making him hear them, he is selfish enough to want to keep them for him only. 

Your brows are furrowed and your swollen lips are parted to let the most beautiful melody fill the room. You look ethereal and Jungkook is afraid he is dreaming. That’s why, with apprehension, he gently caresses your cheek. But you’re real. You are truly under him, his dick is truly sliding inside you and fuck, the way you are creaming it is insane. 

Your hands desperately grab the sheets while his fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs to keep them against your chest. It allows him to get a better access to your pussy and fuck, he is pounding into you even harder. At this point, you don’t even know how he hasn’t broken the bed yet — or you. 

“Look at you” He coos as his dark eyes land where your bodies connect — he swears he could faint at his dick in your cunt “So fucking cute. ‘Could fuck this pussy forever” 

You wish. 

“I’m gonna come, Kook” You notify him 

The first orgasm he gave you was amazing but coming on Jungkook’s cock is a whole other level. Your cunt wants to clench but can’t because of his fat dick, which makes it even better. However, the pleasure is almost unbearable. Your hand instinctively finds his and you intertwine your fingers in a strange way as your digits are trapped between his palm and your thigh. 

“Cum for me, love. I want to feel you squeeze my cock” His voice is so deep that it sounds like a growl 

Your eyes shut down and your toes curl as Jungkook fucks you harder to help you reach your high. You have so much pleasure that a tear rolls down and witnessing it, the tattooed man goes insane. One of his hands finds your sensitive clit, drawing quick circles that make your body shake, and the other one squeezes your cheeks not so gently to help him capture your lips in a messy kiss. His sudden power over your body sends you on cloud nine and you cum so hard that you almost faint. You might scream a broken “Kook” but you’re not even sure and gosh, Jungkook doesn’t even slow down. 

He keeps fucking you hard and fast, overstimulating you — triggering a sob from you. 

“Fuck, you’re so hot” He groans before burying his face in your neck to focus on cumming too 

“Please, Kook, I can’t” You tell him as you’re feeling way too sensitive now 

He stops his ministrations on your poor clit and caresses your boob instead, trying to soothe you a bit, even kissing your throat. He prays you to hold on just a bit: the way your walls throb around his cock is delightful and he knows he is close too. You try to help him by running your hands in his sweaty black locks, bringing tenderness into this wild fuck — something that you don’t know how much Jungkook loves actually. 

He growls at the same time he releases his seeds in the condom. 

“Fuck, it was so good” He pants “You did perfectly, baby” 

He kisses your forehead and your heart squeezes out of how gentle he is. You just wish that this moment never stops. That’s why you hold him tighter when he initiates a move to scoot away. You wrap your arms around his neck, hide your face against his neck. You just don’t want him to leave you — both physically and emotionally. It’s so painful to imagine that it’s the last time you get to cuddle him that you can’t help your tears. 

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” Jungkook asks, alarmed

“Please, just stay like that five more minutes” You beg

Your wish is granted and even more since Jungkook’s strong arms circle your body and hugs you tight. 

“Please don’t cry” His voice sounds hurt “I hate when you cry, baby”

Gosh, the pet name is not helping you to accept that this moment was actually one moment. 

“It’s just that I love you too much” You confess and your words make Jungkook lifts his head up to look at you 

He looks a bit confused because your tone sounds like an apology. 

“Is that bad?” He questions 

“No but it hurts. But it’s okay that you don’t feel the same” You try a weak smile despite your aching heart 

“I've just made love to you, Y/N” He says, basically scolding you “I love you. I’ve fallen for you a long time ago” 

Your heart stops but this time it’s because you’re too happy to even believe it. You can’t stop yourself from hugging him again and Jungkook hugs you back, smiling wild in the crook of your neck. He settles sweet kisses and makes you both roll on the bed so you’re on top of him. It’s crazy with how much softness you’re looking at each other, grinning like two idiots in love — which you are to be honest. 

“Say it again” You ask

“I love you” 

“I love you too” You giggle and you swear you could fly right now 

“I have to do things right when we come back” Jungkook announces 

“What do you mean?” You frown 

“I have to take you on a date and do all the things cheesy couples do” 

He sounds oddly proud of it. 

“You want to be a cheesy couple?” You tease him

“First of all, we already are a cheesy couple” He kisses your nose, illustrating his point “Secondly, cheesy couples have the best weddings”

If you get to spend your life with such an amazing man, you’ll happily be the cheesiest couple ever. 

Taglist @gimeow @parapiop7 @mylyus-blog @knjjjk @namelesskeid @nesisrey @somehowukook @turn02 @ttanniett @whoa-jo @sncx3 @vsr4197 @lerasi @coralmusicblaze @mimi122880 @missmorningglory @thatgirliehan @daisiesarepretty7 @vkjmjjk @reallygenerouskoala @hoseokteardrop

So sorry that it took this long but I hope that you guys love it 🩷 If you do, please like and comment 🩷

[aquaticmercy]

Breaking Point

Summary : You and Bucky had always hated each other. When Bucky gets injured during a mission, you start wondering if the hatred was just masking something else.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x avenger!reader (she/her) 

Warnings/tags : Enemies to Lovers and Confessions! Fluff. Hurt/comfort. Past trauma. Cursing. Violence. Injury. A bit of Jealous!Bucky.

Requested by : @beansprout713

Word count : 4.8k

Note : Enemies to Lovers will always be so good to write about. Thank you for requesting this! Enjoy!

Requests are open!

You adjusted your coat, clutching your purse as you strolled back toward the Avengers compound after your date. Your head hung low from the frankly underwhelming night you shared with Ryan, a guy you’d met through a mutual friend. 

Ryan was a librarian. He was perfectly fine, perfectly handsome, perfectly polite. But you weren’t looking for perfect. You sighed. 

He talked about his job, about how a group of school kids making noise had been annoying him. When he asked about yours, you shifted in your seat with unease. You can’t really tell the whole truth. What would that even sound like?

Oh, I went on a mission last week and shot a guy. Don't worry, he was a bad guy.

You would’ve sounded ridiculous.

In the end, Ryan was just another normal person. He couldn’t keep up with you, with your life, being an avenger. With this line of work, you wondered if you’d ever find love. 

You were halfway up the steps to the entrance when you saw him.

Bucky Barnes stood by the doors, leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. His blue eyes locked on you as soon as you came into his view. The outdoor light cast long shadows across his face, strengthening the sharpness of his features.

Bucky watched you walked up the steps. He clenched his jaw, forcing down the aching swirl inside him. It was easier to push you away, to let the sharp edges of his words do the damage before you could get any closer, even if he could not deny how beautiful you were underneath the dark glow of the night sky. His gut twisted, knowing you put in all this effort for some half-decent guy who could never give you enough, not that you needed to put any effort at all. He shook his thoughts away, eyes narrowing. 

Great, you thought. The last thing you needed tonight was to deal with his brooding attitude. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for whatever sharp remark he was about to throw your way.

Bucky stepped closer, his chest only inches from yours now, and the proximity sent a jolt of heat through you. His gaze flickered down to your lips for the briefest second before he met your eyes again.

"Out late, aren’t we?" His voice was low.

You rolled your eyes, brushing past him as you opened the door to the compound. "It's called having a life, Barnes. You should try it sometime."

He followed you inside, his boots heavy against the floor. "A life, huh?" He scoffed, his tone harsher than usual. “That’s what you call having dinner with some guy who won’t last longer than a week?" His voice was low, almost a growl, but there was something else behind it—something you couldn't quite identify. His eyes didn’t leave yours, and the air between you crackled with a tension you had always felt with him. 

You swallowed hard. "Why do you care who I spend my nights with?" you replied, your voice shakier than you intended. 

His jaw clenched. "Maybe I care because none of those guys know what you really need." His voice was gravelly, and the implication in his words made your stomach flip. For a second, you couldn’t breathe.

You quickly brushed his words. "And you think you do?" you shot back, but your voice faltered. 

Bucky left the question open, not knowing how to respond. Instead, he did what he always does best. He deflected. "You can’t keep a boyfriend because you’re too brash. Too loud."

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You swallowed hard, the pain twisting in your chest as his words echoed in your mind. He always had a way of cutting deep, but this was different. Calling out your coping mechanisms seemed too low, even for Bucky.

"Wow." Your voice wavered slightly, but you quickly steadied it, refusing to let him see just how much he affected you. "You really know how to hit where it hurts, don’t you?"

Bucky didn’t respond. For a second, you thought you saw something flicker in his eyes—regret, maybe. But he didn’t apologise. Instead, he turned away, his metal arm flexing at his side.

"Just go to bed," he muttered, almost condescending except for the hint of softness in his voice. "I need you well rested for the mission tomorrow."

As much as you and Bucky outwardly despised each other, the two of you were surprisingly effective partners in the field. Again and again, you found yourselves paired together. You never complained, though. There was an undeniable intimacy in your partnership that you craved, even if Bucky hated your guts.

"Is this really about the mission?” Your anger bubbled to the surface. 

His hand shot out suddenly, gripping your wrist—not hard, but firm enough to stop you from moving too far past him. His metal fingers were cool against your skin, his blue eyes alight with frustration. "It’s about you not taking things seriously.” He said, almost sneering. “Instead of preparing your gear, you're off with some random guy. Do you even care?"

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you felt the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but you wouldn’t let them fall. Not in front of him. 

"I care more than you think, Bucky," you said quietly, pulling your arm away from his grip.  "But you don’t get to talk to me like that. You don’t know why I am the way I am."

Bucky’s expression softened slightly. He opened his mouth to say something, but then quickly snapped it shut, as if he didn’t trust himself to speak. The truth was, he’d been watching you for months. Not just on missions, but in moments like these, when you thought you were alone. You wore your confidence like armour, but sometimes, when you let it slip, he caught glimpses of something deeper. Something that made him wonder if maybe, just maybe, you felt the same way he did, whatever that feeling was. Whatever the racing heart in his chest meant. Whatever the butterflies in his stomach meant. 

But he couldn’t let himself go there. 

The silence between you was unbearable, and finally, you turned away.

"Let’s just get through tomorrow without killing each other, okay?" you muttered. Without waiting for his response, you walked away, leaving him standing alone..

Why did he always do this? 

He didn’t know half of what you carried. Didn’t know what it was like to lose—to build your walls higher every time someone left, because that was the only way to survive.

Or maybe he knew too much of what it was like.

You spent your life keeping people at arm's length. Dates were fine. Fun. Superficial. They didn't ask for more than you were willing to give. You could smile, laugh, let your guard down just enough to feel normal, but never enough to let anyone in. 

Bucky—he was too close. He saw too much. He could cut through the walls with one sentence, and it scared you.

As you made your way back to your bedroom, part of you wondered—what would happen if you let him in?

What a stupid thought. 

—

The next morning, the air between you and Bucky was still cold, your argument from the night before hanging in the air like a hurricane. You were briefed on the mission, but you barely paid attention. Your mind was still reeling from the sting of Bucky’s words. And you hated that he had the power to make you feel this way.

In the quinjet, silence filled the space between you, making the air feel too thick and heavy to breathe. Bucky sat across from you, his gaze fixed on the floor, his hands resting on his knees. You stole a glance at him, noting the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw clenched tight, and for a second, something flickered in his eyes as he glanced at you. Regret, maybe?

“Look," you muttered, breaking the silence. "About last night—"

“Don’t," he cut in, his voice low but firm. "Let’s focus on the mission."

You swallowed, biting back whatever words had been forming. He didn’t want to talk about it. Fine.

The knot in your chest tightened. You wanted to tell him—wanted to say something to bridge the gap between you, but the walls were still there, and neither of you was ready to break them down.

—

The mission was supposed to be simple. You and Bucky had done this a hundred times—get in, gather intel, get out. He was the shadow, slipping in unnoticed, while you were the distraction, loud and violent, drawing the guards’ fire away. 

You took point, leading the guards away with your usual brashness. Something that Bucky criticized you for.

You could feel Bucky’s eyes on you, tracking your every movement. Most of the time, his gaze felt like scrutiny, like he was waiting for you to mess up. But today there was something else. Protectiveness, perhaps?

As you manoeuvred through the base, you split up. You were supposed to patrol the halls, distract any guards, draw fire from Bucky to you. Bucky was supposed to secure the intel. You stopped in the centre, where you were supposed to wait for communications right about now. 

Where is he? you thought, scanning for Bucky, but he was nowhere to be seen. He was supposed to signal once he’d reached the server room. But the silence on the comms was making you nervous.

Your instincts kicked in, as you heard more guards coming from your left. 

You cursed, ready for confrontation.

You felt exposed, vulnerable. Normally, you could feel his presence. But now, something was different. The usual synchrony between you two felt… off.

Suddenly, the footsteps halted as gunfire erupted in the distance, shattering the uneasy quiet. Your heart raced. That wasn’t part of the plan. Bucky wasn’t supposed to engage until he had the data. The sound of gunshots rang in your ears, echoing in the corridors of the enemy base.

“Barnes, what the hell’s going on?” you hissed into the comms, trying to keep your voice steady. No response.

Your breath hitched. Something was wrong. Your steps quickened, your pulse pounding in your ears. The sound of shouting and footsteps grew closer. Where the hell is he?

You ran towards where Bucky was supposed to be. Rounding a corner, suddenly a gunshot rang out—close. Too close.

A sharp pain seared across your side as you dove for cover behind a stack of crates. You cursed under your breath, pressing your hand to the wound. Blood oozed through your fingers. The bullet had grazed you, which was survivable, but the sting was enough to remind you just how dangerous this was becoming. 

You shot your attacker with your last bullet, bullseye on the center of their forehead. The body went stiff, still on the ground. Brutal. Clean. Necessary.

“Where are you, Barnes?” you muttered, your breath coming in ragged bursts, but you were only met with static from the other line. You were supposed to be the distraction, but without his backup, you felt vulnerable in a way you hadn’t felt in years.

Damn it, this isn’t working. You threw away the comms and crushed it beneath your heel.

You heard the commotion getting closer and closer, and then suddenly the gunfire stopped. Maybe Bucky had been able to disarm the enemy and was making a run for it. 

You glanced over the edge of a crate. Your eyes widened, spotting the sniper hidden on the corner, by an air vent, aiming on your head. Your heart pounded, knowing you don’t have the energy to dodge another shot. 

You took a deep breath, readying for impact.

Then, there was a flash of movement—Bucky!

He appeared out of nowhere, barreling toward you just as the sniper lined up his next shot.

“Move!” he shouted, his voice brimming with panic. 

Before you could react, his body slammed into yours, tackling you to the ground. The breath was knocked from your lungs as you hit the ground hard, his weight pinning you down. 

Bucky’s chest pressed against your back, his breath heavy in your ear as he shielded you from the line of fire. His metal arm wrapped protectively around your waist, and despite the chaos, you couldn’t ignore the heat of his body, the way it made your skin tingle. But the relief was short-lived.

The next sound you heard was a grunt of pain.

You twisted beneath him just in time to see Bucky stumble, his hand clutching his side. Blood. Too much blood. It soaked through his tactical suit, spreading rapidly as he slumped back, his face pale with pain.

“No!” The word tore from your throat as you scrambled to your feet, gently laying him on the ground before he could fall. You grabbed his arm, trying to keep him upright, but he was heavy, his body sagging against yours.

“I’m fine,” he grunted, his voice strained, but the way he leaned on you told a different story.

You felt the adrenaline surge through your body, giving you the last boost of energy you needed. You grabbed Bucky’s rifle, blindly shooting at the direction of the sniper. 

You weren’t shooting clean shots anymore. You didn’t care. You didn’t stop until you saw the body fall on the floor. 

You scrambled back to Bucky. 

“This wasn’t part of the plan,” you snapped, your voice trembling with anger and fear as you pressed your hand to the wound in his side, trying to stop the bleeding. “Why didn’t you stay in position? You weren’t supposed to—”

“To what?” he rasped, wincing as he tried to move. “Let you die?”

“I had it under control!” you shot back, hough you knew it was a lie. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, but the closeness only fueled your anger. “If you had just stayed where you were—”

“You were in the open. I had to—” Bucky interrupted, his voice sharper than before, his eyes dark with frustration. His hands tapped his pocket, making sure he had the intel you came here for.

“I was doing my job, Bucky!” you shouted, your grip tightening on his arm. The fear bubbling up in your chest was quickly being overtaken by anger, the unresolved tension from last night’s fight bleeding into the moment. “But you—damn it, why do you always have to make everything harder than it is?!”

His eyes met yours, blazing with frustration. “I’m the one keeping you alive!” he growled, stepping closer despite the pain radiating from his wound. “You never listen—”

“You don’t trust me!” you accused him, your voice shaking when you noticed the bleeding wasn’t slowing. Did it hit an artery? “and now you’re hurt because you had to play the hero!”

His jaw clenched, his hand gripping your arm tightly as he struggled to stay upright. “I don’t—” He stopped, his voice catching as the weight of your words sank in. His eyes flickered with something that made your heart twist. “I don’t want to lose you.”

The confession was so quiet, so raw, that it hit you harder than any bullet could have. 

Your anger faltered, the heat of the moment cooling as you stared at him, your breath catching in your throat. “Bucky…” you started, but the words died on your lips.

Soon, you heard hostile footsteps growing louder in the distance. You didn’t have time for this. Not now.

You tore your gaze from his, focusing on the immediate task at hand—getting him out of here. 

You supported Bucky as best you could, half-dragging him through the enemy base toward the extraction point. His body was heavy against yours, his breaths shallow, but he still had enough strength to keep his arm around you, guiding you through the chaos.

“Stay with me, Barnes,” you muttered, your voice tight with worry as you half-ran, half-stumbled through the corridors.

Bucky groaned in response, his grip on you tightening, his weight sagging against your side. “Are you even… strong enough to carry me?” he gritted out, his voice laced with pain. There was a flicker of his usual sarcasm there, a sign he was still fighting.

You shot him a glare, even as panic clawed at your chest. There was a hint of charm in his voice this time, and you couldn’t help but smile a little. “Don’t make me regret saving your ass.”

His weight pressed heavily on your shoulders, and his blood soaked into your gear, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t stop. Every time his breathing hitched, you pushed yourself harder, refusing to let the fear of losing him take over.

—

By the time you got him back to the quinjet, Bucky was barely conscious. You worked frantically to stabilise him, your hands shaking as you hooked him up to an IV and bandaged the wound as best as you could with the limited supplies on hand.

When you finally returned to the Avengers compound, they wheeled him away to the med bay, and despite the doctors’ reassurances that he’d pull through, you refused to leave his side. 

For the rest of the night, you stayed by his bedside. 

Sam dropped by a couple of times, bringing you water and food you couldn’t bring yourself to touch. On his third visit, he lingered, watching you with a knowing expression. Bucky was still unconscious, the steady rhythm of the EKG was the only sound in the room as you stared at him. Your hands clutched the arms of your chair as if holding onto something solid would stop your thoughts from spiraling.

“You’ve been here a while,” Sam said softly, not wanting to disturb the stillness in the room. “You should eat something.”

He pointed at the bottle and sandwich he had brought a couple of hours ago. You nodded faintly, but your eyes didn’t leave Bucky. “I’m not hungry.”

Sam sat in the chair next to you, his gaze flicking between you and Bucky. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees.

"So..." he started, drawing out the word like he was testing the waters, "you finally decide to stop dancing around each other or what?"

You shot him a glare, but it lacked the amusement you usually reserved for his teasing. "Sam, not now."

"Hey, I'm just saying," Sam replied, holding his hands up in defence. "It's been months of this weird tension, and now you're sitting here like you're at the end of some romantic drama. It's about time you said something."

“Can we not do this now?" You repeated, snapping this time, though you did not mean to. 

“He’s gonna be fine,” Sam reassured you quietly, now aware of your agitation, “You don’t need to sit here all night worrying.”

“I’m not…” you trailed off, realising how defensive you were being. With a sigh, you slumped back on your chair. “I… I should’ve seen the sniper sooner.”

Sam chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You know Bucky. He wasn’t about to let you take that hit, no matter what.”

You glanced at Bucky, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest. You lowered your voice, scared that he would somehow hear you. “I don’t understand why he’s always like this. One minute he’s insulting me, and the next, he’s throwing himself in front of bullets for me.”

Sam sighed, leaning back in his chair. “You matter more to him than you think.”

You scoffed quietly, not quite believing him. “He sure has a funny way of showing it.”

“Listen,” Sam said, his tone soft but firm. “Bucky… he’s complicated. He doesn’t exactly wear his heart on his sleeve. But the fact that you’re sitting here, all torn up over him? Makes me think his feelings aren’t one-sided.”

You looked over at Sam with visceral scepticism in your eyes. 

Sam leaned forward again, his expression serious now. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you when he thinks no one’s watching. Hell, he gets jealous of the guys you go out with.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of Sam’s words sink in. The argument with Bucky from the previous night echoed in your mind—his harsh words, the way he’d cut into you so deeply, as if trying to push you away. Was that really how his jealousy manifested? 

Then there was today, how he’d risked his life without hesitation to save you.

“He nearly died today,” you whispered, your voice catching in your throat. “Because of me.”

“He didn’t do it because he had to.” Sam shook his head. “He did it because it was you.”

You sat in silence for a moment, the weight of Sam’s words settling in your chest. You had always felt the tension between you and Bucky, the unspoken something that simmered beneath the surface, but you had never let yourself fully confront it. Maybe because it was too scary to admit. Maybe because you feared that caring about someone like Bucky Barnes carried more risk than you were willing to take.

You blinked back the tears that pricked at the corners of your eyes. “I don’t know what to do...” with all this information you had just dumped on me. 

Sam smiled faintly, standing up and resting a hand on your shoulder. “Just be here when he wakes up.”

You watched as Sam walked out, leaving you alone with Bucky again. You let your eyes fall back to his sleeping form, his face still pale but peaceful. You reached out, hesitating for just a moment, before gently brushing a lock of hair away from his forehead.

—

Hours had passed before Bucky finally stirred. The room was heavy with the weight of everything that had happened, thick with the scent of blood and sweat. You sat beside him, your body drained, shoulders hunched over. Your mind stayed alert—unable to tear your focus from him for even a second. 

“Bucky?” Your voice was hoarse, cracking under the pressure of everything you had witnessed, everything you had felt. 

His eyelids fluttered as if fighting to lift a weight the weight of the world. For a long, quiet moment, he just stared at you, eyes cloudy and disoriented. “You’re still here,” he mumbled, his voice fragile.

“Of course, I’m still here,” you shot back, the sharpness in your tone betraying the tenderness that hid behind it. Your emotions simmered beneath the surface, threatening to overflow. His muscles tensed as he attempted to sit up, but a grimace of pain shot across his face, stopping him short. “You should’ve let me handle it,” he muttered through clenched teeth, frustration leaking into his voice. Not because he had been shot, but because it broke his heart seeing you here. You looked so weak and sleep deprived. You looked so tired, your wounds untended.

The anger that had been quietly burning inside you flared. You rose to your feet, the chair scraping the floor in the silence. Your conversation with Sam swam in the back of your mind, but old habits die hard. “Handle what, Bucky? Getting shot?” 

His gaze snapped to yours, the weariness in his eyes replaced with a flash of cold steel. “Why does it matter to you if I live or die?” His voice cut through the room, louder now, tinged with a bitterness. 

The question hit you like a blow, freezing you in place. Your heart pounded violently against your ribs, the truth clawing at your throat. Every wall you’d carefully constructed around yourself, every defence you had in place, crumbled in an instant. Before you could stop yourself, the words you had fought so hard to keep buried tore free.

“Because I fucking care about you!” you shouted, your voice breaking. “I care about you so much that I have to pretend I don’t just to keep myself sane! Is that what you wanted to hear?”

The air between you felt electric. Bucky’s eyes widened, the force of your confession hanging in the space between you, churning like a wave ready to break. He didn’t move, didn’t speak at first, just stared at you as if seeing something he couldn’t comprehend.

Then, after a beat that seemed to stretch into eternity, his voice came, a low, gravelly whisper that was almost lost in the silence. “You think I don’t feel the same?” His words trembled with a vulnerability you’d never heard from him before.

Your breath caught, and your body stilled. Maybe Sam was right, the realisation dawned on you.

His voice was cracking under the strain of emotions he’d long suppressed, grunting as he sat up. “I push you away because it’s easier than admitting how much I—” His jaw clenched, his hands balled into fists as he struggled to say what he’d buried for so long. “If I let myself feel it... if I let myself get close to you... I’ll lose you. And I can’t—” His voice faltered, breaking. “I can’t lose you.”

Your heart wrenched at his words, at the fear so raw in his voice. Slowly, you took a step toward him, your legs trembling beneath you. The distance between the two of you had never felt so vast, even though it was only a few feet. “Bucky…” The anger, the frustration—it had drained away. Your voice was softer now than it has ever been with him, gentle. You sat on the edge of the bed, facing him.

He looked up at you, and in his eyes, you saw everything you had ever felt mirrored back at you—the fear, the longing, the unspoken love that had always been there but never acknowledged. 

Your breath hitched in your throat as you finally let the walls fall completely. 

“It’s easier than admitting how much I—” Bucky tried again, but couldn’t finish. The words weren’t enough. 

You closed the distance between you in a heartbeat, your hands reaching for him, pulling him into you, and your lips crashed against his with a force that felt like it could shatter the walls around you. 

The kiss was desperate, letting go of everything you had kept at bay for so long. It was raw, unfiltered. It was an outpouring of all the feelings you had tried so hard to ignore. There was nothing but you and him, the world outside of this fading away into nothingness.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, chests rising and falling in sync, your foreheads pressed together as if you were trying to ground yourselves. The gravity of what had been revealed was too much for you to process.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The silence was thick, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. 

"What is this?" you whispered, your voice barely audible. “What are we?”

Bucky's breath was shaky, his forehead still resting against yours as he struggled to find the right words. His hands hovered at your waist, as if he wasn’t sure whether to hold you tighter or let you go. The vulnerability in his eyes, raw and unguarded, mirrored yours.

“I don’t know,” he whispered, his voice rough and hoarse, barely audible. “But I can’t keep pretending like this doesn’t mean something.” His eyes flicked up to meet yours, searching your face as if trying to decipher your feelings, afraid of what he might find there. “You… you matter to me. More than anything or anyone.”

The honesty in his voice sent a shiver down your spine, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest, each beat echoing in your ribcage. You didn’t know how to respond—your thoughts in a tangled mess. 

“Bucky…” You started, unsure of where to begin, but the words just didn’t come. You reached up, cupping his face gently with your hand, brushing your thumb across the stubble on his cheek. His eyes fluttered closed at your touch, a shaky exhale escaping his lips.

“I don’t want to mess this up,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, as if admitting it out loud made it more real. “I’ve lost so much. I’m scared—” He broke off.

“You’re not going to lose me,” you whispered, the words firm, even though fear still lingered in the back of your mind. “We’ll figure this out. Together.”

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still as the weight of your words settled. Bucky stared at you, pressing his forehead against yours once more, the tension in his body easing ever so slightly.

“Together,” he repeated softly.

The room was quiet again, the steady beep of the heart monitor the only sound that broke the silence. You sat there, holding each other in the stillness.

And maybe, someday soon, you’d have the courage to say what you both had wanted to say:

I love you.

-end

[a-hazbin-reader]

I just found your blog today and OUUUGHHH ALL THE X READERS ARE SOOO GOOD? ESPECIALLY THE PLATONIC ONES? WE LIVE FOR THE CHAOTIC Y/N <3 FUCK EM UPPPP <333

If you're looking for ideas, what about a reader that is friends with both Rosie and Alastor and notices that the reader is catching feelings for Alastor? I think she'd be support them, maybe poke Alkastor since he's not likely to get the hint wioth reader not saying it directly lol

Thank you for considering and I hope you're having fun out there! Ur favs loooove yooou <33

This is just so adorable????

Rosie X Reader Headcanons

Plus a little Alastor X Reader too

❌️Romantic

✅️Platonic

TW: Reader being BULLIED with affection, Rosie interferes with everything, Romantic Alastor X Reader

Description: ☝️⬆️

Rosie claims that matters of the heart are her specialty, and who is anybody to disagree with her??

She is quick to identify what someone is feeling and her friends are no exception to the rule

So when she notices you're starting to act strangely around your mutual friend Alastor...she's quick to figure out what's going on with you

You and Alastor are having drinks together and you're laughing a little too much?? Cheeks a little too pink?? Oh she saw that

Alastor is singing and dancing?? Rosie couldn't help but notice that you were completely enraptured by him, hanging onto every moment

You also happen to have a bad habit of looking away whenever Alastor compliments you, trying to hide a blush perhaps?

Well aren't you just adorable

Now Rosie won't corner you or anything like that, she won't pry the truth out of you even if she's dying to

But she does kind of trick you into admitting you're feelings to her, inviting you out for the day and slyly bringing Alastor up

You're so cute when you're flustered and choking on your drink

"Now now~ There's nothin' to be embarrassed about! Just let Rosie know what you're feelin' and she'll sort it out for ya!"

She's so good to you

"I guess my head has kinda been all over the place lately..."

Rosie slowly gets the truth to come out of you, and boy, is she pleased as punch to find out you're falling in love with Alastor

All Rosie wants is her two friends to be happy and if she can make it happen?? She'll make it happen, she's putting all her cards on the table for this one

She promises you that she won't tell your secret or intervene in any way

But she forgot to tell you that her fingers were totally crossed

Rosie tries to start out small and subtle, even visiting the hotel and getting the others involved

Suddenly everyone is talking about you and how talented you are, how lovely you always look, what you did today

"Y/N, look at that outfit! You look fucking hot today!"

"Uh..thanks Angel..?"

Charlie and Vaggie are always pairing you and Alastor together for anything they can think of

Niffty has suddenly taken to tripping you in front of Alastor but you needn't worry, he always catches you

Husk tries to stay out of it initially but even he gets caught up in it, admitting you two would be good together

Even random people on the street are giving you extra attention whenever you're out with Alastor

Alastor can't seem to get you out of his head all of a sudden, can't shake the intrusive thoughts of you

No matter

When being subtle doesn't work then Rosie switches gears, taking a page out of Niffty's book

No she's not going to trip you

Finds excuses to have you run errands for her, somehow always leading you to bumping into Alastor

And Alastor, ever the gentleman, always walks you back and keeps you company along the way

He finds himself getting more and more fond of you, more so than he was before, he feels a little strange

Finds himself wanting to be closer to you, seeing you in a different light than before, were you always so pretty to look at???

Rosie is pleased with her progress but annoyed by the fact that Alastor still hasn't taken a hint and that you still haven't confessed

That's fine, she's got ways

She starts having flowers and little gifts sent to you when she knows you're with Alastor, faking a secret admirer

Oh he doesn't like that

Alastor feels something ugly twist in his gut when he sees your face flush as you delicately pick at the flowers, flattered

After the fourth gift that was sent to you Alastor started to get more than annoyed, trying to figure out who was taking up your attention

Imagine his surprise when the paper trail leads back to Rosie

Okay now he's legitimately worried about losing you, Rosie is a smooth she-devil

"Alastor! What brings you here-"

"I know what you've been up to, my dear."

Rosie isn't nervous, but she's definitely surprised that he figured her out, she was only trying to help you out

Alastor skips all the pleasantries and immediately just asks her if she's trying to court you

Oh...so he got it wrong...that's hilarious

"Oh my stars~! No no no~!" She literally can't stop the laughter at this point

Now Alastor is confused, why was she pretending to be your secret admirer then?

Rosie tries to lead Alastor to his own conclusion about why she did it but all of a sudden he's turned into an idiot

She really doesn't want to out your secret

But she also has been working towards this for months now

So she blurts out the fact that you're in love with him and that she's been trying to set you both up together this entire time and it feels so good to let it all out and-

Alastor simply holds a hand up to stop her, looking a little overwhelmed by the news but Rosie also detects a hint of relief??

Maybe he did grow an extra soft spot for you after all??

After confirming with Alastor that you did indeed explicitly tell her that you fell for him, Rosie watches him leave

She also refuses to apologize for interfering in his love life, a girl has gotta look out for her friends

She honestly doesn't know which way things are going to go but is pleasantly surprised when you give her a ring the next day

"Rosie! Are you free today? You won't believe what happened last night! I can't wait to tell you!"

They should call her Cupid from now on

She always hounds you for the details on your dates and is always giving Alastor tips on what you would like

"Come now, was snuggling really all you two did after dinner?"

"R-ROSIE-"

"Oh Alastor, you should really get those earrings for Y/N~! They would absolutely sparkle on them~!"

Tells everyone that she's the reason you two are together, she's just so proud of herself

She wants to plan your wedding for you

WOAH

This one was such a cute idea!! I really hope it's what you wanted!!

[erinelliotc]

A few years ago I used to be that annoying "transmasc lesbians don't exist, this shit is harmful and invalidates both transmascs and lesbians" person, and now I'M the transmasc lesbian. Seems like the tables have turned, huh?

I've spent so many months, years, trying so hard to fit into these categories that I saw so many people talk about as if it were the definitive truth, and this shallow and simplistic vision seems to be gaining a lot of attention and traction here in Brazil. Isn't it ironic to free yourself from cisnormativity and heteronormativity and all these binary boxes to find yourself again trying to fit into other boxes and norms that don't actually describe your experience correctly? Because your experience with gender is so chaotic and confusing (as expected of a nonbinary identity, and even more so if you're neurodivergent too) that there's no simple way to describe it. Then when you find out what describes this, people say you can't identify yourself that way because two or more of your identities are "incompatible". I see people treating non-binarity as if it were an exact science, as if it were math, as if it were something simple and logical, as it is precisely the escape from what has been established in our society as the only two possible options, generating countless identities within a gray area outside this black and white vision, so of course it's something complex, abstract and subjective.

EDIT: One of my reasons for thinking this way was that I ignored that the transgender experience and the cisgender experience aren't and will never be equivalent. It's obvious that a cis man can't be a lesbian, but the same doesn't go for transmasc people, and I thought that admitting that was the same as being transphobic, denying the masculinity of transmascs, denying their male identity. I already had a debate on Twitter because people didn't want to admit that trans men and transmasc people in general can suffer misogyny and male chauvinism (as society can still see and treat us as women) because they also saw it as the same as saying transmasc people are women. The identity of trans people is a very complex experience that involves a series of factors that cis people will never experience. We cannot equate the trans experience with the cis experience.

I thought identifying as a butch lesbian was enough to describe my masculinity, but I realized that I felt like it didn't encompass everything I felt, I still felt like something was missing. Preventing and depriving myself of identifying with more explicit masculine identities was actually making me feel bad and dysphoric. So yeah, I've been avoiding identifying with male-aligned identities because I thought that would mean having to stop identifying as a lesbian, and I didn't want that, and I don't really feel like calling myself straight makes any sense.

I have a text in Portuguese talking about my experience as a butch lesbian, and I feel that now it also serves to describe my experience as a nonbinary transmasc (the part where I talk about not identifying with "traditional masculinity", but with a "different type", like "soft masculinity", is directly related to the fact that, in addition to being nonbinary, I don't identify as a man, I don't feel comfortable with the term "man", but rather with "boy"). I spent a few months wondering whether I was libramasculine or boyflux, and I ended up deciding that if I can't identify which one I am, maybe it makes more sense to just adopt both identities, maybe I am both then! I'm tired of trying to fit into supposed rules about being nonbinary. This is exactly how non-binarity shouldn't be. I'm supposed to feel free, not trapped again. My identity is my identity and that's nobody's business.

[quicklikelight]

Saw a post just now that was like, how do you work full time and still have time for hobbies? And I think that's a great question to ask, as people navigating a world where increasingly our labor is entirely for the benefit of some faceless (or worse, incredibly public) billionaire and no one else.

I'm a person who takes my labor seriously, and I have had the pleasure and privilege of only working for non-profit or not-for-profit organizations throughout my adult career. I worked part-time for a regular corporation once for six months before I quit out of disgust, and I've worked for a couple of family-owned small businesses during college, but the overwhelming majority of my 12+ year career so far has been in a profit void, which does help.

Even still, I have colleagues at my big shiny non-profit who say, "Anne you have so many hobbies! How on earth do you have time for them?" And the key is,

If I don't make time for my personal passions, I'll die.

I'm not being dramatic. It isn't a joke. An intrinsic and necessary part of me -- the part that labors for love, that labors for the desire of it, for the enjoyment -- will die if I do not create time and space to do that labor. And without that love, that passionate hobby investment, the part of me that is left will not then decide, hey I should labor more for money! It will not decide, hey I should invest in my relationships! It will not decide, hey I should invest in myself as a human being! In my environment! In my community! In the world!

It will decide, if there is no time for joy in the world, I will not be in the world. I will doomscroll endlessly on my phone. I will watch re-runs of a beloved sitcom for 3 hours, exhausted on my sofa, and go to bed. I will show up to work still groggy from the day before, and I will be angry in meetings, and I will be exhausted from customer interactions, and I will either want to cry or I will have zero feelings at all as I enter yet another figure into another cell of the universal spreadsheet. I will not be my best self anywhere, for any reason, because my best self is dead.

People say things like, "I don't dream of labor," and I respect that. But a lot of labor is very good. It's work, to knit a sweater. It's work, to write a book. It's work, to raise a garden, or a goat, or a child. It's work to bake bread, and to sew pants, and to rebuild small engines. It's work to create, and that is--in my humble opinion--what we're here for. To spend all day idly eating grapes would drive a lot of us to the brink. The problem isn't labor--it's capital.

To make time for your hobbies means working intentionally to identify those passion projects as a necessary part of your reason for being on the earth. My job on this earth is not to assign training. My job on this earth is to create beauty, and write stories, and make clothes, and connect from my heart. When that truth is accepted, and you put in the effort to rebirth the part of you that died to capitalism, then it becomes very obvious that the relevant question isn't "how do I make time for hobbies."

The question is, "How do I ensure that my job does not take up all the mental and physical energy I have so that I can re-invest that energy into myself?"

A good place to start is to plan your days / weeks / months with an understanding of your mental/physical boundaries and just do that. There are ways to do this most effectively (collective bargaining, creating a schedule that honors the need for focus vs collaboration, bringing your hobbies to work and being open about how they make your work better) but the most important thing, in my opinion, is for you to understand that your full time job isn't you. It's not what makes you special or important in this world, and it's not what people will remember about you when you're gone, and it's not going to feed you if you stop showing up. So give it as little as you can comfortably get by with, preserve that precious energy, and put it into something that sets your soul alight.

When you invest in the labor that loves you back, that provides for you, that keeps you alive... you'll stop accepting a world in which you cannot dream of labor for fear of losing yourself.

And maybe, at the end, you'll have a sweater. :)

[joequiinn]

You'll Just Have to Taste Me | toxic exes e.m. x reader

Summary | You knew you’d risk running into Eddie when you walked into one of his favorite music venues, but maybe that’s exactly what you were counting on.

Warnings & Notes | fem!reader, smut, established past relationship, toxic!reader, asshole!Eddie, shitty behavior all around, semipublic sex, unprotected sex (p in v), choking, ass play, name calling/mild degradation

AN | I - a self-identified metal head - can’t stop listening to Sabrina Carpenter, and this is what it’s left me with. Eddie and reader are both assholes here, so if you aren't game for shitty, petty bad behavior, then this may not be the fic for you~

WC | 7.4k

!!! MINORS DNI !!!

You knew better than to pay visits to Eddie’s usual haunts. These dive bars and show venues crammed with sweaty drunks and kids carrying fake IDs were never your scene, but back when things were different, you were always happy to oblige him.

Since your break up, you’d been so good at avoiding any and all places you’d ever visited with Eddie in the past - the record store he dragged you into to buy the latest Megadeth or Iron Maiden cassette, the shitty fast food restaurant that supposedly had the “best chili in town,” the dollar theater that was always playing B-movies you’d never even heard of. You always felt that compulsion to step foot in these businesses on the chance of running into Eddie, but you had, thus far, managed to keep yourself in line.

But when your friend, Lara, mentioned that she’d be playing a show at the Viper Room this weekend, well… you simply couldn’t turn down her invitation. You had spent dozens upon dozens of nights in this little venue, either by Eddie’s side bobbing along to the loud music or watching him up on the stage, playing his guitar so damn aggressively that sometimes his fingers would bleed. You’d grown familiar with the Viper Room, with the metal music that made its walls shake and the bar top that was sticky from years upon years of spilled drinks; and you hadn’t been back since you and Eddie broke up.

So, you obliged Lara and her band, hoping that none of them would suspect that you agreed to come along because you wanted to run into Eddie. You’d had nearly everyone around you convinced that you were over the split, that you barely thought about your ex most days - but you knew the truth, and that was far from it.

You craved him desperately despite all the bullshit you put one another through, you missed him despite how ugly things ended between you two. And yet you loathed him in the same breath, hoping he was just as tormented as you following your break up;and if you took it upon yourself to make sure Eddie was dealt at least a small hand of torment, well…

So, here you were, prowling the Viper Room as you waited for Lara’s band to go on, gaze patrolling the venue for any sign of Eddie fucking Munson; it was practically unheard of for him not to pop in to see who was playing, so if he weren’t here you’d be royally pissed off. Your heart drummed nervously inside your chest, an uneasy rhythm that had you briefly second guessing this idea, wondering if you should just play it cool and not instigate something. After all, you’d always been prone to crazy shit that landed you in trouble, prone to aggressions and dramatics all simply because you could. Hell, Eddie could’ve used that as an excuse in your break up, but he was just as bad as you, confrontational and jealous and mean; needless to say, you were both a little fucked up.

And, eventually, you did spot Eddie halfway through the band’s first song, chatting up the security guy with a cigarette hanging from his lips, a beer held tight in one hand while his arm was hanging around some other chick. A nasty, envious wave of anger crashed over you at the sight of her, your eyes dark and crazy and dangerous.

And the more you looked at her, the more pissed off you got, the more red you saw washing over your vision - why the fuck did she look so much like you? From her hair to her build to her goddamn wardrobe, you felt like you were staring into some trick mirror warping your image - there was no way that this was some coincidence, Eddie wasn't that stupid.

You looked back and forth between her and Eddie, wondering if he brought this chick along on the off-chance that you’d be here to see them together. That was some shit you wouldn’t put past him, Eddie was no more above pettiness than you were. But did that mean he was hoping you’d be here, too? Your blood boiled even hotter at the thought; at least you didn’t bring some bargain bin version of Eddie along in the hopes that it would piss him off, you were just hoping to get him riled up a little.

Feeling just how rapidly your rage was escalating, you turned your back quickly and marched towards the bar in some measly attempt to compose yourself; you didn’t want to go flying off the handle, after all. The bartender that you’d grown familiar with over the years offered you a shot as if he knew exactly what was going on, and although you didn’t want anyone’s goddamn pity, you needed at least something to help you cool off.

You kept your eyes on Eddie and this chick, your stare following them as they mingled and danced and smoked. Whoever she was, it was obvious she was falling for Eddie’s charm just as quickly as you and everyone else did; Eddie, on the other hand, seemed only mildly interested, putting forth little effort to make her feel wanted. You smiled cruelly at that, though it ticked you off again because why would he bring her along otherwise?

At some point, the woman stole away to approach the bar, and like some animal just waiting to strike, you slunk over, cramming your way in beside her as she asked the bartender for a drink. She paid you no mind, clearly trying to ignore all the patrons in this place that must have been unfamiliar to her; you eyed her thoughtfully, not really sure what you planned on doing now but letting your mouth run anyway.

“First time here?” You asked in a tone that would’ve been suspiciously innocent to anyone that knew you. She looked at you with detached eyes, nodding before trying to turn her attention away, a silent indication that she wasn’t interested in conversation. You, however, weren’t done, “You here with Munson?”

Now, she looked at you more cautiously, actually taking the opportunity to look you in the eye, brow furrowed curiously, “Eddie really does know everyone, huh?”

You smirked snidely, leaning against the counter as you looked about the venue for the man in question, “Oh, everyone. I’d bet he’s been so preoccupied with everyone else that he’s barely paid any mind to you.”

You stared at her fiendishly, taking far too much pleasure in the way her expression slowly fell, the way her gaze grew concerned and wary. Just to make things worse, you continued, “Get used to being ignored, Eddie can’t help but entertain the masses while forgetting about the people standing right there.”

The woman looked at you dreadfully for a few long moments before her expression slowly morphed, twisting into a scowl as if something was dawning on her. And you simply looked back with a smug raise of your brow, taking far too much joy from antagonizing this stranger.

“My god, you’re Eddie’s ex, aren’t you?” Her tone was biting as she asked it; you smiled back brazenly, to which she rolled her eyes, “Jesus, you’re as bad as he said.”

“I like to think I’m worse.” You answered with glee as if to mock her, leaning in just a little, “But still not as bad as him.”

The woman pushed off of the bar, no longer concerned with getting a new drink, but she paused before stomping away, staring harshly at you. She looked you up and down crudely, and you could see the exact moment she realized the thing you had noticed earlier - the two of you looked damn near related. She scoffed at the realization, as if disgusted by both you and Eddie.

Cursing under her breath, she stormed off, your gaze following after her; you realized then that Eddie had seen the interaction and was already approaching you two, but before he could get a word out, the woman shoulder-checked past him.

Eddie’s glare was vicious as he met your eyes, and he looked frustrated enough that even you wanted to shrink just a little. His march towards you was hostile, eyes blazing and jaw clenched tight; shoving down your distress, you stood up tall and resilient, hoping your express was one of perfect, condescending apathy.

“She seemed really great, Eddie, shame it’s not going to work out.”

Eddie was upon you, practically trapping you between him and the bar as he glared daggers; you nearly gasped at the closeness and malice, at the familiar sensation of something ugly breaking out between you two.

“What the fuck did you do?” He growled.

You gave an innocent shrug, frowning falsely, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Eddie’s jaw flexed. His hand shot out and grabbed your elbow so aggressively that it made you choke on a yelp as he abruptly began to drag you towards the bathroom, shoving the door open without a care for whether or not someone may be in there. He pulled you into the cramped room, slamming and locking the door behind him before spinning his mean glare back around on you. You stared back just as harshly, never the type to back down when his temper was escalating; in fact, it took everything in you not to grin smugly, getting exactly the rise out of him that you were hoping for.

“You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” His tone was biting as he took a threatening step into your space, trapping you between himself and the grimy tile wall at your back, “You show up here on the one night that I bring a date and pull some kind of stunt just to fuck with me. That’s laughable, even for you.”

Although your eyes were wild with the impulse to argue, you held in as much anger as you could, your attitude combative and condescending, “Me? You’re just as bad - coming to my friend’s gig, bringing a girl along with you that’s clearly some cheap knockoff of me. I’d bet you were fucking hoping I’d be here, just so you could rub it in that you’d ‘moved on.’”

Eddie’s laugh was blatantly unamused, sarcastic and nasty as he leaned in even closer, “You think I’d pull that? As if I’d ever want to see you again.”

You raised your brows and frowned in a false show of sympathy, “Oh, you poor thing who are you trying to convince - me or yourself?”

Eddie was so damn close that you could practically taste the booze on his breath, his body radiating so much heat that it dared to engulf you. His eyes were nearly pitch black as they burned into yours, “You’re impossible, you know that? You always were.”

“Careful, babe, I might take that as a compliment.” You grinned wickedly from ear-to-ear, pushing closer while jabbing a finger into his chest, “You’re just as bad as me, so stop pretending you’re some innocent victim to my shit.”Eddie smirked back just as cruelly, snapping his hand around yours in a vice grip, squeezing hard enough that it nearly hurt, “And don’t act like you were being harmless when we both know you’re too smart not to have an ulterior motive. So, are you here because Lara asked you to come or are you here for something else?”

Each word grew a little lower until it nearly sounded as if Eddie was whispering a threat; he inched closer, his face dangerously close to yours. Taking a deep breath to maintain your composure, you leveled him with a challenging glare, as if simply doing that could prove him wrong. You tipped your chin up defiantly, browning arching with all the attitude you could muster.

“I’ll only tell if you do.” Your tone was sickly sweet, lips but a short breath away from Eddie’s as you looked between his dark eyes.

“God, you’re a pain in my ass.” Eddie grumbled lowly, eyes flicking down to your cruel yet enticing red lips, fingers tightening around your hand that he still held trapped between you two.

Your expression was wicked in response, voice a taunting whisper, “But you miss me, don’t you?”

Eddie clenched his jaw tight, gaze flaring a little harsher as he stared as if his eyes could hurt you. A self-satisfied smile crawled across your lips, expression goading as you looked back, just waiting for the answer that you hoped would come. Eddie took a deep breath of frustration.

“You’re goddamn right.” He hissed as if the words burned his tongue, his face alight with the combined frustration and desire that you’d become familiar with after all your time together.

As your pleased grin grew larger, Eddie crashed his lips to yours with ferocity, his movements so fast that your head bounced back into the wall You moaned into the hateful kiss, arms flying up to grab at his vest, nails scratching his neck and chest in the process. Eddie crushed you back against the tile, hands grabbing and squeezing your body as if to both hurt you and memorize you all over again.

His mouth tasted like the familiar sting of whiskey, skin smelling of sweat and cologne in a combination that you’d missed desperately. You kissed him as if your life depended on it, sloppy and wet and aggressive, as Eddie’s hands snaked around your body to grab at your ass. He squeezed hard enough to make you hiss, a primal groan rumbling in his chest at the feel of you.

You reached up to grab fistfuls of his hair, yanking him back roughly just so you could hear that satisfying hiss of pain pass between his lips; you smiled sinfully as Eddie glared down his nose at you. Tauntingly, you tugged at his curls again, licking your lower lip as if the sight of his frustration whet your appetite like nothing else.

“This is the last date you ever go on with that girl?” You asked snidely, delighting in the way Eddie huffed with a glare.

“Last. One.” He answered with gritted teeth.

Your smile grew even crueler and wider, “You’ve got the real thing right here, you don’t need some other chick.”

You began to draw Eddie's lips back down to yours, but he abruptly pressed his large hand to your neck, fingers curling slightly without closing in. Surprise flashed across your expression before it was quickly replaced by excitement, Eddie’s words hot against your lips, “And if you’re going to start bossing me around again, you’re going to behave for me, got it?”

You reached your lips up to brush against his, “The best I can.”

Eddie’s fingers tightened, creating pressure on either side of your neck, “That was a yes or no question.”

A jolt ran down your spine, heat pooling in your center as your body clenched tight around nothing. Knowing exactly what he was doing to you, Eddie pressed his hot, tense body against yours insistently.

You practically gasped with anticipation, “Yes.”

A devious smirk crossed Eddie’s lips, eyes hooded and fiendish, “Good girl.”

An eager mewl sounded in your throat as Eddie’s hand tightened, lips meeting yours once more in a kiss so heated that it made your eyes cross. His other hand cupped your ass again, grip severe as his tongue forced its way past your lips, ensnaring yours dominantly.

Eddie rutted his hips clumsily against yours, his growing erection already creating a strained tent in his jeans; you moaned needily as you felt him growing harder against you. The rolling of his hips was rapacious, slow and deep as if he were already buried inside you; it made you desperate for some friction, tugging at Eddie’s hair again as you attempted to roll your hips with his.

Abruptly, Eddie stole his lips away, pressing his forehead against yours and using the weight of his body to keep your hips from moving again. A wicked smile spread across his lips as you moaned in frustration; chuckily airily, he rutted his hips one more time at a tantalizing pace, grip still firm and commanding on your neck.

“God, you’re so fucking easy,” his words were biting, and yet his tone was enthralled, “I’ve barely touched you and already you’re acting greedy.”

Using his hand to guide you, Eddie spun you around in the cramped space, directing you to the filthy sink, its faucet leaking. You braced your hands on the lip of the counter, as Eddie pressed himself flush to your back, cocked rubbing gainst your ass and mouth teasing at your ear. With a whine, you pushed your ass back against him, causing both of Eddie’s hands to tighten their grip again.

“So greedy,” He moaned in your ear, using his hand on your neck to direct your attention to the mirror - it was shattered and layered with fading stickers, but in one sliver of glass, you found his predatory eyes burning into you, “You can be patient, can’t you?”

You nodded even as you pushed back against him, the need for his body becoming too much already. In retaliation, Eddie reared his hand back and struck your ass with a practiced hit, eyes glinting as you yelped with surprise and delight.

“Patience.” He emphasized darkly, pressing his face into your hair and inhaling deeply as if he was starved and your scent could satiate him. As you shivered eagerly, Eddie’s hands dragged down your body, creating a hot trail along your back, your waist, your ass. You arched back into his touch, desperate for more. He palmed your ass once more before grabbing the waist of your tight pants, giving them one harsh tug to expose your plump ass and the itty, bitty thong you wore. Eddie curled his finger in its lacy band, snapping it against your skin as his lips tickled your ear again, “These ones were always my favorite…”

Your voice was a gasp, “I know.”

His hands squeezed your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he inhaled your scent again,  “Just for me, huh?”

You hummed a yes, gaze staring wantonly into the mirror’s broken reflection, watching Eddie’s dark expression in anticipation. He leaned back just enough to ogle your body, tongue poking out between his teeth as he delighted in the sight of you longing for him.

Eddie slid one of his feet between yours, nudging you to spread your legs for him, his hands hungrily groping at your ass. You obliged as much as the pants around your knees would allow, the cold of the bathroom causing goosebumps to break out across your exposed skin as you awaited Eddie’s next move.

His hand glided along your skin, dipping down between your legs and teasing you through the thin fabric of your thong. You moaned, trying to roll your hips closer, but Eddie was having none of it - his opposite hand slapped your ass again, jaw tight as he found your gaze in the reflection once more. The corner of his mouth curled up as he stared at you through his lashes.

Again, his fingers ghosted over your pussy, the near-contact causing you to practically growl with impatience. Eddie pressed his chest to your back again so he could speak lowly into your ear.

“You’re going to stand there like a good girl and wait - you only get what you want when I decide to give it to you.” The command made you moan, head rolling back as if Eddie were already touching you just the way you liked; you could only imagine the self-satisfied smirk that must have been on his lips, but you didn’t dare look at him in the mirror’s reflection.

Eddie snaked his arm around to your front as he pressed you flush against him, the tip of his cock poking your ass even through the fabric of his jeans. His hand slowly reached back down into your thong, fingertips grazing your skin in a way that sent a shiver through your entire body; you fought to hold still, hoping your patience would reward you.

Eddie’s calloused finger circled your clit, causing a moan to spill from your mouth as your grip tightened on the countertop. A huff of a laugh escaped Eddie as he applied more pressure, lips hot and close to your ear again.

“So, so easy…” He teased. You bit your lip as his finger prodded, gliding from your clit to your pussy and back, hips grinding slowly against your ass. As his fingertips moved in slow, practiced circles, he continued to taunt, “This what you wanted? To get me all riled up so I’d give you a piece of my mind?”

You nodded dumbly, throwing your head back as Eddie increased his pace just enough to make your body shudder. His opposite hand grabbed roughly at your hip, holding tight as his own impatience won out, abruptly dipping two fingers into your wet folds. You cried out in the same breath that Eddie moaned, grinding his hips while curling his fingers knuckle deep in just the way he knew you loved.

“Already so fucking wet…” He groaned into your hair as he slowly pumped his fingers inside you, cock twitching against your ass as a string of lurid sounds escaped your parted lips. God, it was pathetic just how easily you were coming undone in his hands, how easily you succumbed to Eddie’s touch - a months’ long dry spell ruined you, making you impossibly wet from the moment he laid a hand on you.

As Eddie’s fingers continued to pleasure you, he pressed his thumb to your clit, moving in tight, merciless circles that caused your back to arch, rear pressing hungrily against his cock and head thrown back onto his shoulder. Eddie’s opposite hand reached up to latch onto your neck again, his lips hot as they dragged along your cheek.

“Gonna cum already?” He teased breathily, smiling against your skin, “Gonna get off from just my fingers?”

“N-no--” You stuttered out, as if somehow that could keep you from spilling over.

Eddie hummed in disagreement, curving his fingers again, “This pussy’s still mine.”

Your breath hitched, preventing any arguments from leaving your mouth as Eddie picked up speed, fingers slick with your desire. His other hand reached from your neck to your jaw, twisting your head to face him so he could plant sloppy, wet, domineering kisses on your lips.

“Still mine…” He breathed out as you clenched around his fingers, unabashed moans escaping you as your senses became frenzied, knees already beginning to shake. You could feel Eddie’s lips curl into another wicked grin, “You better not cum yet.”

A desperate whine sounded out of you again, and so Eddie’s hand on your jaw squeezed tight, thumb cruel against your clit as he bent you forward a little over the counter. You blinked your eyes open, vision crossed as you met his stare in the mirror.

“If you cum now, I’ll stop.” Eddie taunted, curving his fingers again for good measure. You mewled pathetically, to which he pressed his hips against yours, grinding them with each repetition, “All you do is take and take and take. What did I say about behaving?”

Just to torment you further, Eddie nipped at your throat, teeth digging into the spot below your jawline; you groaned, to which he began to pump his fingers even faster. The sensation in your clit was becoming too much, your toes curling inside your boots as you leaned more of your weight over the counter; and to that, too, Eddie became even more cruel, swirling your clit so good it made you see goddamn stars behind your eyes.

You tripped over your words, all of them spilling out in succession as you began to come undone, “Fuc-- Eddie-- I can’t--!”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” He growled primally against your neck, but it was too late, your orgasm crashing over you wildly as you moaned unabashedly, legs shaking and pussy throbbing as you braced yourself over the sink.

Torturously, Eddie kept swirling your clit, making you shudder near uncontrollably. He bit at your skin again as his hand squeezed your jaw.

“You never listen, always gotta misbehave…” He grumbled, pulling back from you; you had to steady yourself, body still wracking from your orgasm, “Maybe I’ll go find that girl - bet I could fuck her for hours and she'd be good.”

Your head shot up, Eddie having said just the right words to bring you back to earth. Before you could glare at him in the reflection, though, he twisted one hand in your hair while the other smacked you across the ass, causing you to yelp in both pain and pleasure. Eddie pulled you back, pressing his cheek into your hair.

Finally catching your breath, you hissed,”You won't.”

“I won't?” Eddie teased, to which you shook your head; his fingers twisted even tighter.

Fuck, you could've drooled over the growl in Eddie’s voice, the way he manhandled you; and you were certain he knew it, too. You hoped to appear defiant as you kept your chin high and collected yourself, hiding your wince as Eddie tugged at your hair.

“Wanna keep me all to yourself, isn't that right, you brat?” His words were sharp and hot against your skin as he dragged his nose along your neck.

“Yes.” You nearly whispered, willing to play a little nicer if it meant Eddie would ravage you.

He smiled before nipping at your neck, lips trailing back up to your ear, his teeth grazing over your lobe as he purred, “Want this to be the only dick you ever get? Hm, no one fucks you like I do, isn’t that right, baby?”

You moaned as an aroused chill rolled through your body, arching back into Eddie and pressing your rear against his cock, still tight and strained within his jeans, just out of reach and teasing the fuck out of you, “Yeah…”

“Good.”

Eddie gave your pants another aggressive tug all the way down to your ankles, grabbing at your hips and giving them a hungry squeeze. He yanked you back a couple steps and pressed a firm palm to the center of your back, quickly making you lean over the counter; your forehead nearly bumped against the faucet in your shared excitement.

Eddie nudged the inside of your foot with his toe, insisting that you spread yourself even wider for him, to which you obliged. He groaned with anticipation, and you were sure he was eying your ass like it was a goddamn meal; unable to resist, he clapped his hand against your cheek again, drawing another delighted yelp out of you.

Eddie shoved your soaked panties to the side, teasing your pussy with his fingers again; the stimulation made you shiver, hips jolting from just how sensitive you still were. As he continued to glide his finger along your slit, you could hear Eddie’s belt unbuckling followed by his jeans unzipping - your pussy clenched at just the thought of his cock freeing from his underwear, the telltale sound of its head dully bouncing off his stomach then making you moan.

“So easy…” Eddie repeated again through gritted teeth, barely inserting one finger inside you just to watch you squirm. A faint whine escaped you as you attempted to push your hips back, but he stopped you easily, fingers digging into your waist as if in warning, “No no, you’re gonna be good for me, gonna be a pretty little cock sleeve.”

You nodded vigorously, trying to look back at Eddie over your shoulder. He stole his hand from your pussy and wrapped it into your hair again, pulling you back just enough so you could see the inflamed, dark look in his eyes, stare practically hypnotic. You could feel his cock ghosting along your rear, and you sighed with desperate longing.

Eddie dragged his free hand slowly up your body, groping and teasing up your back and neck to your face; he reached around and pressed his first two fingers to your parted lips, his gaze watching hungrily as he slid them into your mouth, your breath hot as you sighed eagerly. You closed your lips and swirled your wet tongue around Eddie’s fingers, eyes fluttering shut when you heard him groan and give your hair a small tug. When his cock twitched against your ass, you bobbed your head, mouth sliding up and down his calloused fingers as your spit made a vulgar slurping sound around him.

Eddie muttered sinfully as you sucked his fingers, his rings metallic and warm against your lips; if you weren’t so preoccupied, you would’ve mocked him for being just as easy and horny as you. After letting you thoroughly coat him in spit, Eddie popped his digits from your mouth, snaking back down between you and to your pussy again. You pressed back into his hand, his fingertips teasing at you - he grabbed his throbbing cock, tapping its head on your ass provocatively.

As he lined himself up with your entrance, you couldn’t help but moan at the way just his tip filled you up, giving your ass a little wiggle that made Eddie tug at your hair. He grabbed hold of your hips with both hands, squeezing your skin roughly as you clenched around the head of his cock, desperate for more; a faint hiss sounded through Eddie’s teeth.

“You want it?” He taunted huskily, holding you tight as you whined in your throat.

“Yes.”

He hummed snidely, enjoying how damn desperate you were, “Work for it, brat.”

Another chill rolled up your spine at the command, your cunt flexing around him. Bracing yourself steadily against the counter, you took an eager breath before sliding back onto Eddie’s girth, ass bouncing up against his hips. The two of you moaned in unison, his cock twitching inside you as you adjusted to his size, walls clenching tightly around him; Eddie’s fingers dug into the meat of your hips, pushing up into you and making you gasp as he hit you nice and deep.

“You missed this cock?” Eddie jeered, not waiting for an answer, “Come on, prove it.”

Dutifully, you pulled your hips forward, the feel of his cock sliding inside you causing another wild moan to leap from your mouth. Hearing Eddie’s own sigh of satisfaction, you eagerly sunk back down on his dick, body bobbing in a needy rhythm as you clung even tighter to the counter.

“That’s right…” Eddie groaned, hands on your hips guiding you up and down his shaft, hips thrusting up to meet yours each time you sunk back; the snap of his hips was just rough enough to make violent moans escape you each time, “You take me so good, baby.”

Spurred by his words, you sped up a little, Eddie’s hands grabbing at your hair, your ass, zealous for your body. The sound of your ass clapping against his hips echoed off the tile, your moans mingling and overlapping with each other. Already, you could feel your thighs burning with exertion, knees growing shaky as your pleasure started to mount once more; god, how pathetic that you were already growing weak again, that you were wobbly with effort and sopping wet with lust.

Feeling a change in your rhythm, Eddie grabbed you tight, bending you over till your chest was flush with the counter; finally, he took charge, beginning to thrust deep inside you with quick, rapid strokes, hands holding you steady.

“What is it, brat, already drunk on this cock?” He teased through clenched teeth, hips slamming harshly into yours as you moaned and panted in response, “Fuck, you take me so good; already about to cum again, dirty slut?”

Just as you thought you were about to topple over the edge, Eddie slowed his violent thrusts, practically laughing at your frustrated groan and your knuckles flexing around the counter’s edge. Eddie rolled his hips cruelly, as if he wanted you to chase after the orgasm that he wasn’t ready to give you just yet.

He grabbed hold of your wrists and pulled them behind your back, shifting them securely into one hand while the other gave your ass a firm slap. As you yelped, Eddie rolled his hips deep and slow against yours.

“Greedy…” His voice was muffled as if speaking with something in his mouth; you gazed up out of the corner of your eye, watching him pop his thumb from between his lips, a thread of drool dripping down as his eyes glinted at you wickedly, “Greedy, greedy brat.”

When Eddie’s thumb teased at your asshole, a profane gasp escaped you. His hips stuttered a moment, pulling nearly all the way out of you as his thumb continued its slow, lecherous circle. You moaned desperately, missing the feel of his girth buried deep inside you, but Eddie refrained from giving you what you wanted, his thumb prodding at your ass. And then abruptly, he sunk into both holes, balls and knuckle deep in tandem, the instant stimulation making you cry out and cum without any warning like some goddamn virgin.

“No, again?” Eddie teased as his thumb massaged inside of you, cock twitching against your tightly clamped walls, “You missed this cock so bad…”

You could barely form words, tongue heavy in your mouth as you breathed out, “So bad, baby…”

“Got off twice already.” Eddie muttered as if to himself, hooking his thumb just to get another gasp out of you, your hips bucking with a shiver. He tugged at your wrists, still held tight in his large hand, and forced you to straighten up, the slowly changing angle making your pussy and ass ache with pleasure. You mewled weakly, feeling Eddie at your back again, face pressed into your messy hair as he breathed you in.

He rolled his hips again oh-so cruelly, his own moan vulgar at the change of angle, rutting his cock that extra bit deeper once he was already buried in you. His rhythm was tantalizing now, thrusting in and out of you as slowly as he could so that you’d both feel each and every little movement; his thumb pumped inside your ass in time with his cock, the sensation of both holes being filled making your eyes cross and your head spin.

“Fuck, baby…” Eddie growled against your ear, the sound making you clench tightly around is cock again, all your senses running haywire from how goddamn overstimulated you were. Your breath ragged and skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat, you began to roll your hips in time with Eddie’s thrusts, practically standing on your toes just to feel his cock hit that spot you loved.

Eddie grunted hungrily as he slid through your slick folds again and again and again, speed picking up with each pump; your gasping and moaning only seemed to encourage him, your breath hitching each time he thrust extra hard into you. His hand around your wrists was so tight that it would’ve hurt were you not preoccupied, his thumb in your ass pushing in and out of you at its own pace, turning your knees to putty. Your legs shook beneath you, and if it weren’t for the way Eddie thrust you forward into the counter, you feared you might sink to the floor.

“Aw, you’re spent.” Eddie whispered devilishly into your ear, his hips slapping harder and faster into you as if it were punishment, “You know I’m not done with you yet.”

You nodded, although you knew it was unnecessary, and Eddie pushed you forward again, holding you just inches above the countertop by your wrists. Abruptly, he pulled his cock clean out of you, causing you to cry out at the loss of it, wet pussy clenching desperately around nothing as the cold bathroom air hit you.

Eddie chuckled behind you, hooking his thumb again and making you throw your head back. Cruelly, he pumped his thumb as deep inside you as it could go, eager mewls falling from your parted lips; you realized you were drooling, but you didn’t care. Eddie’s thumb sped up, making your panting more frantic, your back arched desperately as your toes curled.

“Could bury my cock right in your ass and you’d let me, huh?” Eddie taunted, and you nodded wildly in response. The head of his dick bounced against your ass cheek, goosebumps breaking out across your skin and a pathetic moan rising from your throat in desperation, “Could do whatever I want to you.”

Pushing his thumb nice and deep inside you, Eddie stopped, waiting until you impatiently jutted your ass against his hand. With another low laugh, Eddie removed his thumb and spun you around so quickly that you nearly stumbled, his hands catching you and body immediately pinning you back against the counter.

“No, I’ll save that for next time.” He growled, lips dangerously close to yours again. You could practically taste the sweat on his skin, your breath mingling as his eyes stared into yours; your hands had nearly fallen asleep while Eddie was holding them back, and they tingled as you steadied them atop the counter behind you, “That’s what you want, right? A next time?”

You hummed with an insistent whine, Eddie loving the sight of you messy and practically pleading for more. He squatted down a little so he could hook his hands beneath your quivering thighs, practically throwing you up onto the counter, the lip of the sink digging into your ass. A primal sound rose in Eddie’s throat as he tugged your pants from one of your legs and shoved it up, foot resting atop the counter as he dragged your body closer, nearly falling off the edge if it weren’t for his sturdy grip. He palmed your cunt with a vulgar smirk, leaning in close again.

“Whattaya say, lucky number three?” His hot breath washed across your lips, fingers swirling your clit lazily, his opposite hand pressing firmly against your throat once more.

Eddie’s thick cock nudged at your pussy, thrusting up into you nice and slow as you moaned together. His forehead rested against yours as his hand on your throat tightened, constricting your air just enough that your eyes crossed and your mouth hung open in ecstasy. Bottoming out, Eddie rolled his hips against yours, your pussy clenching around him as you felt another string of drool begin a trail down your lip.

Eddie pulled back enough to watch your face as his hips started slapping into your ass aggressively, his rhythm frantic and cruel and so damn delectable as you rocked atop the counter. Each gasp came out short and high in your throat, the sensation of Eddie’s cock hitting deep making your body tighten like a spring, the feel of his hand at your throat making your eyes roll back into your skull.

He groaned hoarsely, repeating roughly under his breath like a mantra, “So fucking good, so fucking good.”

His eyes were black with desire as they looked into yours, the intensity of his stare making your muscles contract wildly, hips rolling rapidly against his to create even more friction against your clit. Throwing your head back, you moaned unabashedly, and Eddie nipped along the underside of your jaw, fingers tightening even more around your throat; the lack of oxygen was becoming intoxicating, your breaths shorter and hitched as Eddie thrust up into you.

Cock buried nice and deep, Eddie began to rut up that extra bit into you, groaning at the way you clenched tight around him, inarticulate half-words of pleasure slipping past your parted lips. Your combined sounds of ecstasy reverberated off the tile walls, bodies slick with sweat against one another, the cramped room growing hotter and hotter; you gripped the counter even tighter as you curved your hips a little further, immediately mewling as Eddie hit that sweet spot inside you.

Spurred on by your new sounds of pleasure, Eddie’s thrusts grew faster and faster, deeper and deeper, driving you absolutely fucking wild. He used the hand at your throat to dip your head to one side, mouth latching tight to your neck, teeth nipping and lips sucking hard - the slight pain made you yelp eagerly,  excited by the inevitable hickey that was going to form. Knowing that he was getting you close yet again, Eddie reached down to press his fingers to your clit, experting rolling them in stimulating circles; he breathed heavily against your neck, lips hot and wet with spit.

You cried out as another intense orgasm hit you like a crashing wave, your eyes rolling back as your tight body practically quivered from the overwhelming satisfaction you felt from your head down to your goddamn toes. Eddie’s pace didn’t slow even for a second, making your sensitive pussy spasm at the excess pleasure, having to brace yourself tight on the counter so you wouldn’t melt right off it.

Now, Eddie used you like the damn cock sleeve you were, pounding roughly into you as he chased his own orgasm, so, so close that even you could practically taste it. He finally dropped his hand from your throat and gripped the edge of the counter tight so he could ram his cock up into you, his pace rapid and unforgiving; you couldn’t help but smile stupidly at how frantic and desperate he became when he was close, the way you treated your body like a sex toy just so he could get the satisfaction he craved.

“So fucking good, fucking good, fu--”

Eddie’s hips stuttered as he gasped, white knuckling the counter as he shoved himself as deep as he could go, seed spilling inside you; his strained sounds of pleasure made you moan and mewl with bliss. Eddie breathed deeply as his cock twitched inside you, his body weight leaning into yours as he rested his forehead against your neck. You were both sticky and hot, the smell of your sex hanging thick in the air as you both strained to catch your breath.

When Eddie eventually slid out of your pussy, the both of you sighed at the last little bit of stimulation; he took a couple steps back, forcing you to balance yourself on the lip of the counter with limbs that felt like pudding. You looked up at Eddie through your lashes, studying his euphoric expression as you felt his cum begin to seep out of you; his chest heaved deeply as his dark eyes found yours, nearly making you gasp.

As you slowly lowered your wobbly legs until your feet were back on the ground, Eddie pulled his pants back into place, eyeing you up and down like you were a slab of meat and he was still hungry for more even after all that. For a few moments, you simply stood there to regain your balance, Eddie's seed making a slow trail down your thigh; you caught a territorial smirk flash across his face as his eyes followed it down. You began to reach for the towel dispenser, but Eddie snatched your wrist quickly.

“Oh no, you're not cleaning that up.” He sneered wickedly, closing in on you again as he spoke in a low voice, “You're gonna go back out there with my cum soaking your jeans for the rest of the night like the slut you are.”

His words may have made you weak in the knees, but you couldn't help glaring, hot and bothered by the prospect of yet another argument between the two of you, “I got what I came here for - what makes you think I'll be listening to you anymore?”

Eddie leaned in, lips hovering over yours again as he answered huskily, “Because if you listen like a good girl, I'll give you more later.”

The both of you looked at one another with wanton desire, Eddie brushing his thumb along your lower lip before righting himself, stepping back to look at you leeringly again. 

“Now put your clothes on.” He growled, and you quickly followed the instruction.

As Eddie dragged you back out of the bathroom, you could feel eyes glaring at you - the bartender, other patrons, the girl that was supposed to be Eddie's date. You couldn't help but giggle at your predicament, which turned into a full on laugh when Eddie clapped one of the glaring patrons on the shoulder, winking devilishly while guiding you towards the door.

[yok00k]

truth or dare

pairing: hellokittylover/coquette!oc x boxer!jk

genre: angst, fluff

‧₊˚🎧⊹♡— are you playing? truth or dare

synopsis: rumor has it that jungkook is entertaining other girl(s)

word count: 3.3k

warnings: angsty, oc got: attachment issues, daddy issues [like the author], etc. oc is also kinda dumb (and broken) but she’s figuring shit out, lowkey she’s that bitch, jealous!oc, side characters were kinda introduced, mention of jk making out w/ another girl, jk’s character is complex: one sec he’s a playboy and another sec he’s down bad for oc?, open ending, unedited

a/n: this took place when jk and oc were in 2 month situationship and still getting to know one another! so their boundary wasn’t clear..

₊˚⊹ ᰔ

Everything seems to be a dream as soon as you wake up on another glorious day.

you’ve never felt so energized like this before. it’s a little strange to say but, you even feel like you’ve been reborn for some unknown reason. maybe today is going to be a good day for you.

well let’s see.. you’re off from work plus you basically got nothing to do other than clean your room a little for a little bit and to just chill around!

one of the first things you do as soon as you wake up is stare at your phone, particularly to see if jungkook has sent you a message yet as he always never fails to not. a simple yet sweet “good morning pretty :)” and “did my baby girl sleep well?” can add a bright color to your day. it shows that he cares and that he’s thinking about you too.

the anticipated message from your comfort person unexpectedly did not pop out in your notification. it kind of threw you off. jungkook never misses sending you at least one message, precisely at 8:30 every morning. even in the mornings where he had a boxing match the night before. today is indeed such a strange day.

you’re in no position to be sad just because he didn’t message you. in fact, you’re not, you’re just surprised, or so you think. at the same time, you shouldn’t be in shock owing to the fact that there’s no label between you and jungkook. indeed there’s something going on with you and him, whatever that would be except for being girlfriend and boyfriend.

you often ask yourself where you two stand. for you, it’s indistinct to identify what you are to him. all you know is that he is someone special to you. jungkook makes you feel like you’re the prettiest girl in the whole universe every time he’s around you. it’s the way he articulates his words when speaking to you. you can’t explain it.

you’re more than aware that you’re growing emotional attachment to him. getting used to his affection and now that you didn’t receive a message from him to start off your day, it dismays you. although you’re not sure if there's a hidden motive beyond those gut feeling, you choose to ignore it and start typing on your keyboard.

good morning my ggukie!!

r u free today?? kinda wanna hang out with you >o<

delivered | 9:01 am

since you didn’t establish any kind of plan that you’ll be doing today, you’re thinking of inviting him over. you have lots of things to show him, things you purchased when you went shopping with your best friend who also happens to lives next door, Yun-jin

speaking of her before you even forget, you have to call and ask her how her night went from clubbing last night. she initially invited and forced you to go. but your thousands of homeworks and seventy other things on your checklist didn’t permit you to go. partying is always fun, especially with her, but you have to stay focused on your priorities.

you find her inbox off your message app, the first thing you saw was her latest message from this morning

im aliveeeeeeebwwkwwjhskw

sent at 3:33 am

it made you chuckle lightly. she’s completely wasted. there’s no point of calling her as she’s probably still down. so, you decided to pull up to her apartment, bring a few painkillers with you. you’ll bet seven grand that her hangover is going to be so bad.

opening the door using the key she gave you, you spot her laying on the cream and fluffy rug in her cozy white themed living room. you quickly make your way towards her.

“yunny wake up” you said, gently rubbing her back. “i brought you some painkillers, take them quickly” handling her a couple of pain relievers.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ

you’re currently searching for breakfast in her mini fridge, something yun-jin can eat so she’ll feel better. your poor friend is a complete mess as she lazily walks toward the counter in front of you.

“last night was so fun, you should’ve come,” she murmurs, hopping on the bar stool as she watches you cook her breakfast. “Jaeyun won’t stop asking me about you.”

oh you almost forget about him. Jaeyun is Yun-jin’s childhood friend who has a huge interest in you. well that’s what Yun-jin has told you, but you swore to her that you won’t tell him that you know. back in your senior year of high school, you mostly have the same classes as him. oftentimes you two hang out and study together in a local cafe. you enjoy his company a lot, but only as friends. just when you and Jungkook started talking, your friendship with Jaeyun unintentionally grew apart. you lowkey miss hanging out with him. anyways, you take a mental note to check up on him later.

yun-jin tells you more about what you’ve missed. most of them are about the hot guys that she encountered in the night club. that’s not new to you because she’s always out there looking out for hotties.

“oh i forgot to tell you, you remember Blythe? she’s wildin’ last night too” of course, how could you forget about the girl who spreads malicious rumors about you? you genuinely don’t know what’s up with her as she constantly talks shit about you though you never know her personally. to you, she’s just a friend of a friend and some type of hater. indeed, it’s a one- sided beef. she is also known for making out with multiple guys and god knows what at every party she’s in.

“my god, who was her target last night??” you interestedly asked. you and yun-jin have a silly habit of keeping track of her targets. you two soon discover that she goes for the basketball players and athletic guys in general.

“I don't think we’ve seen the guy in a club before but I’ve heard he does underground boxing.” she said as her eyes glanced to her left, trying to recollect her memory. Jungkook might be familiar with the mysterious man. he could be either in his circle or one of his opponents.

you just hum, you expected she’ll go for another basketball player. you guess she’s trying something new.

“but girl, let me tell you. the boxer guy looked so drunk and she was dry humping on him like a damn get a fucking room bro” she adds more details on the tea, while pretending to cry as she covers her eyes.

“wait was the guy totally intoxicated ?” you ask as cracking the eggs on the hot pan.

“No, he was still responding back to her, running his hands around her body and stuff.” you’re glad you didn’t see that yourself, or else you’ll cringe. your friend giving you a summary of how the night went is enough. still, it’s entertaining. for a while.

“let me see if she posted something on her IG” yun-jin utters, pulling out her phone from her pocket.

she taps on her screen multiple times, and finally she finds a story that the girl posted. “look, she posted this”

and with that, yun-jin faces the phone your way. you take a glance on her screen, showing you a low exposure photo of the girl sitting on the uknown guy’s lap. her face is showing while his face wasn't captured. the blurry image seems normal. until your eyes examine the familiar tatted arm that’s wrapped around the girl’s torso. you swear you’ve seen those tattoos before. it takes you a while to recognize the ink into the deep layer of their skin.

then it hits you— those not-so-foreign tattoos belong to jungkook, your jungkook.

oh. your heart suddenly drops.

your eyes lock with the phone screen surface longer than the usual, by which makes your friend frown.

“hey, what’s wrong?” Yun-jin concernedly ask

maybe that’s why he hasn’t texted you yet. maybe he slept wit—

“y/n? you ok?” your friend calls for you again, interrupting your thoughts, though they didn’t fully vanish.

shifting your eyes to her, you blink rapidly “yeah, i’m completely ok,” swallowing your lies away. you can feel your eyes watering, and you don't want your friend to see you break down.

after cooking her breakfast, you decided to head back. “I forgot that I have something to do, I’ll go now” you rapidly put your shoes on

‘she’s not eating this breakfast with me?’ Yun-jin thinks as she watches you leave her apartment.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ

As soon as you get back to your apartment, you walk towards your bedroom. immediately, you throw yourself on the bed.

“I’m so stupid” you groan as you kick the baby pink multi layer bedsheets on your bed.

and once again, you can’t explain this bothersome feeling. anger? feeling betrayed? jealousy? sadness? all of the above?

you can’t understand. no, you’re trying to understand in the midst of confusion.

you really like him, you really do. and he says he likes you too. he even confessed his feelings to you first! since then, it was safe to assume that you two will establish a label soon. you were so sure of it, until now.

how.. how come he’s with another woman?

the more you think about, the more you feel the sting in your heart. the unpleasant emotion is spreading inside your system, it’s urging you to throw up. you find yourself removing dead skin out of your cuticle using your thumbnail, a habit which you only do to relieve anxiety.

you have so many questions that need to be answered. were the feelings he felt about you real? or was he just playing you? or did he just forget that you exist in his life last night? or did he just lose interest in you? these questions bring out your inner conflicts. so many questions you’re afraid to know the real answers of.

just before the skin next to your cuticle bleeds, your focus shifts to the triple loud ping coming from your phone. Of course, those messages belong to the one person who you least likely want to face right now.

morning pretty

sorry just woke up, having a severe hangover rn

still down to hang out? I can pull up a little later

sent at 11:59 am

his text confirms your suspicion, proving that he was drinking heavily last night. you can’t stand seeing him today. you will just cancel your initial plan and make up some lame excuse.

nvm, we can just hang out another time.

no, erase that. you’ll avoid him from now on, there won’t be another time!

nvm, I feel sick. please don’t come over.

seen at 12:00 pm

my poor baby, i’ll take care of u

sent | 12:01 pm

no need, thanks tho

delivered | 12:01 pm

not being in the mood to keep talking to him, you send the last message before putting your phone on ‘do not disturb’ mode. leaving jungkook’s messages unseen

considering that your day has been ruined, you choose to shut down the world and take a long nap.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ

on the other hand, jungkook definitely notices how cold you turned out to be. maybe it's the time of the month for you. thus, today his mission is to grab things you typically crave for: brown sugar milk tea, some sweet pastries from your favorite bakery shop, and finally, the icing to add on top, a bouquet of white roses.

jungkook usually pampers you with a bunch of food and affection. that’s why he pays attention and takes mental notes (or even notes on his phone) of tiny details about you. it satisfies him to see you all spoiled.

that’s the reason why he jumps out of his messy bed and initiates to get ready. starting off his usual morning routine by taking a cold shower. not much time after, he applies his skincare.

Jungkook hears loud chatters of two men talking from his living room as he walks out of his bedroom. he opens the door and perceives his hyungs chilling by his couch.

“yah jungkook, that chick you brought from last night was way out of control” Jimin complains as soon as jungkook enters the living room.

“yeah kook, kicking her out at 3 in the morning wasn’t a good idea. she’s loud as hell and I had to deal with one of your neighbors' complaints again” Taehyung, who was their designated driver, added annoyingly.

“whose chick?” jungkook confusedly asks.

“yours” both of his hyungs exclaim in unison, which the youngest responds with a shrug.

to be honest, Jungkook doesn’t remember shit from last night. he can recollect some memories, but not a whole bunch. drinks. yes, he drank a lot. there was this girl he randomly made out with, however he can’t remember her name or what she looks like. not that she’s relevant to him anyways.

jungkook chooses to not care about the insignificance, he could spend his time better than that. and by the word better, he spends time thinking about you.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ

the constant sound from your doorbell that’s been ringing for who-knows-how-long wakes you up from your wonderful nap.

you gently rubbing your eyes, then you tap the screen of your cellular to see the time; 3:59 pm.

shit, how long were you out for? no idea. you look at your window and see the raindrops rolling down the glass. it was just sunny before you drifted to sleep a few hours ago.

down below to your screen, you notice jungkook messages and a few missed calls from earlier and just now.

7 missed calls from 🐰

55 mins ago

I’ll stay for the night so I can take care of you

delivered | 12:03 pm

just grabbing few things for my baby and I’ll be there soon.

delivered | 12:30 pm

it’s raining heavily and now I’m stuck in traffic

delivered | 1:01 pm

I’m here!

delivered | 1:44 pm

baby? are you home? I'm here

delivered | 1:51 pm

don’t know where u at but I’ll be here waiting at your front door :(

delivered | 1:56 pm

after reading his texts, you rush to the door. there’s no way that man will wait for those hours outside your front doo-

indeed, he’s in front of your door, waiting for you to open up to him as he’s sitting on the ground. besides him, a couple of light brown paper bags, his backpack, and a bouquet of flowers are also laying on the cold cement.

“hi my pretty!” he cheerfully greeted you, rushing to get up from the ground. jungkook walks up to you with a smile full of relief and happiness as if he wasn’t wasting his time for two hours waiting for you right there.

you attempt to avoid his gaze, your eyes examine his black long sleeve that really fits him nice and is damp.

“come in, you should change your clothes.” you mutter coldy

it’s inevitable to not be concerned that he got wet from the rain. Even if you don’t wanna let him in, it will guilt you if he gets ill.

jungkook does what he was told, gathering all the stuff he brings with him and steps into your flat. he feels the strange coldness as soon as he lands his eyes on yours. something isn’t right. something is wrong with you.

He settles his things by your couch and changes into a new oversized t-shirt in front of you. after changing, he reaches for the paper bags to show you the things he got.

“look baby, I got you your favorite drink, some pastries, i know how much you lov-”

“thank you, but you shouldn’t have. I told you to not come” your stern voice cuts him off before he finishes his sentence. you’re trying to keep your cool. your tone is full of nothing but seriousness. not a hint of sweetness in them, which makes jungkook tilt his head on the side, confused by your odd attitude.

“but baby, I just wanted to be here to take care of you.” he insists. by all means, he won’t listen to what you say.

“I hate when you do this” you sigh

“did i do something wrong? are you mad at me?” he attempts to reach you, but you’re too quick to avoid his touch. “tell me what’s wrong baby, please” Jungkook added once more. he doesn’t understand why you avoid him.

“do you treat your other girls like this too?” you ask, eyes shooting lasers at his. an anger rushes through you as the thoughts of him spoiling girls other than you.

“my pretty, what are you talking about?” Jungkook furrows his eyebrows, looking down closely to you. where are you getting these notions from?

“my friend saw you last night”

it took him a couple seconds to remember

“listen to me baby, whoever I was with, she meant nothing” Jungkook defends himself quickly, reaching for your hand, trying to reassure you that she’s insignificant.

it’s not working.

“I just wish you could’ve told me we weren’t exclusive.” you said wipe a tear from your upper cheek before it could roll down further.

“or maybe I was just dumb to assume we were since you initially told me you liked me, I'm sorry, I don’t really know how this whole thing works” you dryly chuckle, honestly admitting to him that you’ve never been in this type of complicated situation before. now you feel like a fool, getting mad at him for something you can’t hold against him.

jungkook shakes his head, reaching for you one more time, placing his gentle on the side of your face, caressing it. you did nothing as you stood still.

“no, i’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. I do like you. I still do and that won’t change. I was just so drunk last night and could barely remember what happened. I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

but somewhere deep down is telling you that he’s only sorry because he got caught.

“you’re free to do whatever you want, Jungkook. I don’t think we’re on the same page so it will be best if we don’t see each other anymore” you articulate as best as you could.

you don’t want to let him go, due to the fact that you’re growing so much feelings towards him. it’s almost as if you’re enamored. but that’s also the same reason why you must let him go. you must, or you’ll get hurt deeper.

“y/n, please don’t say that”

“No, you know how much I like you. you know how much I value you. yet in return, I feel like I’m just a plaything to you that you can play with whenever you want.”

“that’s not true baby, you know that” Jungkook protests, shaking his head. the main problem is you don't. you absolutely have no idea of his motives for pursuing you. is he doing it because he's falling for you too? or he's just playing one of those games. those dangerous games you won't involve yourself with.

he’s looking for words to proves you that his feelings were genuine, but fails to. maybe because he never knows how to show his real feelings. or maybe he was never genuine to start with.

"I'm not one of your playthings. so just— ” you pause, shifting your eyes on the ground. “go away"

Jungkook locks his gaze to you, hoping you will look back at him and take back what you said. but he can read you face and make it seem like he’s not welcome there anymore.

without any words, he leaves, leaving you accompanied with melancholy.

series m.list

[cleolinda]

Unsurprisingly.

“We need to identify each juror. Then make them miserable. Maybe even suicidal,” wrote another user on the same forum. “1,000,000 men (armed) need to go to washington and hang everyone. That’s the only solution,” wrote another user. “This s--- is out of control.” “I hope every juror is doxxed and they pay for what they have done,” another user wrote on Trump’s Truth Social platform Thursday. “May God strike them dead. We will on November 5th and they will pay!”

“Now you understand. To save your nation, you must fight. The time to respond is now. Franco Friday has begun,” another Proud Boys chapter wrote, apparently referring to fascist dictator Francisco Franco of Spain.

I have to think every single juror in that box knew this was a possibility. But they stood by their verdict anyway. I saw someone on Fox News--I think it was Jeanine Pirro--yelling about how no "red-blooded American" would believe that Trump was guilty and that this was a valid proceeding, but I don't know, I think those jurors had every reason in the world to not put themselves in danger unless they meant it. I also think they're braver than anyone on that channel is.

[bluemerakis]

┌── ˚*❀*̥˚ ─── ˚*̥❀*˚ ──┐

✐ᝰ bluemerakis

┗━━• ❃ ° •° ❀ °• ° ❃ •━━┛

❝ I’m the guy mothers warn you about, the son they’re afraid to have ❞

⇀ Word count: 15k words (sorry ☠️)

!! 18+ ONLY !!

Guess who finally mustered up the courage to write a Coriolanus Snow fic, and holy shit, this might just be the longest once-off I’ve ever written.

My dear @quicksilversg1rl , this fic goes out to you 100x over. I hope this makes up for the fact that I couldn’t put Tom under your tree ☹️ I hope that it’s enough that I put him in your dreams instead <3

════════════════════════

WARNINGS:

dom!coriolanus, some out-of-pocket makes-you-go “wtaf💀” Coriolanus moments, smut, swearing, possessiveness, manipulation, toxic relationship, choking, pet names, degradation, edging, lots of italics and dashes (sorry I was feeling myself (not literally you sicko) ), masturbation, unprotected sex, cockwarming, dryhumping/wethumping(?), fingering/fisting, oral sex f receiving, the therapy you’ll need after reading these warnings

‼️DO NOT PROCEED IF YOU ARE NOT COMFORTABLE WITH THE ABOVE-MENTIONED WARNINGS‼️

SYNOPSIS:

Coriolanus had always known you held potential to win the games, from the day he’d laid his eyes on you at the 10th annual reaping. You were the key he’d been missing all these years, and how he saw almost every opportunity unlocked by your presence at that year’s hunger games.

The secret of how he’d risen into power? The answer was much simpler than anyone had expected. You. Sure, Coriolanus had done his fair share of treason and murder to contribute to his status, but it was your victory that had granted him access to the Plinth fortune and made his ambitions possible. He wasn’t a man that liked to share credit, but he thought your performance in the games a worthy enough candidate.

To show you just how thankful he was, he’d invited you to live with him after the games, for however long you pleased, and he’d made it his mission to show you all the pleasures the Capitol and his lifestyle had to offer. He liked having you near him at all times, and he liked it even better when he was inside of you.

What he didn’t like, though? When you flirted with other men, especially when it served to get a rise out of him.

Coriolanus Snow doesn’t like sharing, and he doesn’t tolerate disobedience, either. You’d learn that lesson the hard way.

════════════════════════

Coriolanus was a man bred for purpose, like his father before him, and it was a purpose he often reminded you of—a means to keep your neediness at bay, to tame your urge to be at his side every waking hour of the day, a ploy to remind you just how little value you posed to him outside of a night of fleeting pleasure. He marvelled in the opportunity to make you feel insignificant, a false promise too-quickly forsaken the moment your existence captured another man’s desire—a man that wasn’t him.

In the midst of a party he’d rather not have attended, he watched you from a quiet corner of the venue hall, conversing away with a man he hadn’t had the displeasure of meeting just yet. He didn’t know whether you were honestly that painfully oblivious to the desires of the man before you, who clearly wanted nothing more than a taste of one of the renowned hunger games victors, or whether you had deliberately struck up a conversation to get a rise out of Coriolanus.

But when his eyes narrowed on your hand that reached to move a strand of your hair back to the security behind your ear, he knew then exactly which particular game you were playing.

You always did that when you felt subconscious—when you knew you were being watched. It was a tell that Coriolanus had come to identify the more time he’d spent observing you. He’d needed to—it was necessary in order to know the truths you would not tell him. Not out loud, at least. But now, he was pretty fluent in your body language, in more than one way.

He watched you tilt your head to the side in the slightest manner, an act that often sent all the conservativeness of men toppling over the edge. Your lip suctioned into a concentrated bite as you offered small, attentive nods—you were getting him to think you’re interested in what he has to say, pretending not to notice the way his eyes traced your lips and occasionally flickered across your peeping breasts.

The sight stirred an anger in Coriolanus, his fingers tightening around the glass of wine clutched in one hand. He lifted the wine to his lips, taking a sip as though it would somehow quench the imminent fire that threatened to take control of all reasonability. He couldn’t let you get a rise out of him, not in public where he had an image to uphold. Goddamn you and your games, he hated being the one to play it. That had been the fate of you and the districts, not him—Capitol-born and rich beyond imagination. Was this his retribution to pay? Sentenced to your little games after all he’d brought upon you?

You moved a hand to caress the man’s shoulder, offering a sweet giggle. And then there it was, the slightest glance in his direction, fleeting but an obvious beckon for attention. Coriolanus clenched his jaw as you purposefully turned your back on him, his eyes boring into your exposed shoulder blades, framed by a dress that paraded all the right aspects of your body—a dress he’d picked out for you. He hadn’t gone through all that effort to make you look so ravishing, only for another man to enjoy it. It had been for him, a reminder of what his prize would be after enduring this insufferable party.

He’d planned to rip it from you, as mercilessly as he could offer, to toss it onto the floor and you onto the bed, naked and accessible to whatever he desired. However, you seemed hellbent on denying him a good night. He watched you reach for the man’s hand, your motion suggestive as you tugged on him and began to lead him away from the mayhem.

Coriolanus knew exactly where you were taking him.

He watched you weave your way through the dancing bodies, the music falling into the background as he trailed your every move—the way the man blatantly admired the curve of your ass. What an unacceptable circumstance, to think his favourite toy was not his own limited edition—one only he could afford to play with. After all, why had he endured the battlefield of this unfair life to claim a reward that promised power and money and control, only to feel so helpless in his infatuation over you. He hated what primal need controlled him, rendered him incapable of letting you go.

What had it all been for? The poison, the betrayal, the heinous crimes he’d committed—all to prove that he bore no seal of humanity, felt no obligation to love, until you came along, making him look the fool each time you batted a devious lash or wrung those perfect lips around suggestive words. Each time you spoke was like fragments of an enchantment, slowly being made whole and taking its magical toll on his entire being, beginning to claim everything he was—making him obsess, making him weak.

The day he’d gotten you as his tribute, you’d had been nothing more than a mission—a means to secure a prize that would set him for life. But there had been something about you, something that had drawn him in like a sudden whirlpool, now he couldn’t escape the obsession you’d cursed him with. He’d never before felt the burden of caring about another person’s life, needing to know what they were up to at all times.

Coriolanus recalled seeing you for the first time, the day of the reaping, after the tributes had been transported to the Capitol. He remembered seeing you thrown into the zoo display—the way you had instantly found your feet and ran a hand through your hair, made unruly by a rough and sleepless night. Your brows were knitted closely together with unmistakable anger, a look that promised vengeance to the Capitol despite the silence on your lips. Your dress had been made ragged to match your hair, evidence that the bats had showed no mercy toward your pretty privilege. Maybe it had been your looks that had drawn them in, after all.

He’d been ready to deem you a lost cause, disappointed that once again, he’d been stuck with rigged odds. He had been convinced that somewhere beneath that shredded fabric on your skin, you bore the kiss of rabies, doomed to die like countless before you. But he’d seen a few of the other tributes, bearing the same tells of their struggle with the bats in their shredded clothes and tired eyes. One of those amongst the suffering had been your fellow district twelve tribute, Morgan Lark, and he had possessed the worst wounds out of all the affected.

It’d been less than a few hours until the wounded tributes started retching up fountains of white, their eyes glassy and their movements frantically lost on them. Yet there you had sat, watching with perfect control and composure as they had dwindled into mere husks of the people they used to be.

Coriolanus knew then that you had been different—stronger, a tribute that might just prove the risk to be worth it. He’d insisted on investigating the cart you’d been transported in, eager to know the truth behind your journey. Had you truly been strong enough to evade the consequences of the bats? The mystery of it all was pressing enough to consume his every thought. He needed to know. His future depended on it, depended on you.

That evening, after much persistence and a bribe that he honestly couldn’t have afforded, he’d gained access to your cart. There wasn’t much to look at, given that it was nothing more than an empty container, without even the courtesy of a blanket. The scene was almost hauntingly familiar, personal. Nonetheless, he’d paced the walls, eyes searching every aspect of the metal, every dent and hole in the floor. He’d found nothing other than a few rusty nails—nothing interesting, that is until he’d picked one of them up and inspected it closer to find its apex crusted with blood.

A few of the nails were identical in their blood-coating, not a coincidence. Coriolanus gathered them up into his father’s handkerchief, almost regretting the decision as the rust stained the symbolic, white fabric. He placed them cautiously into his blazer pocket, scanning the cart one last time before making his departure. He made a beeline to the morgue, where the bodies of the five infected tributes had been placed shortly after their passing. He needed to see Morgan Lark’s body, to know what secret you could have hidden in his death.

Once he’d gained access to the corpse, he’d pulled back the white covering. A strong waft of formaldehyde greeted his senses and burned his eyes teary. He had been surprised that the body was being preserved, though he didn’t doubt that Dr. Gual had plans to somehow extract and weaponise the rabies in the next games. The chemicals had instantly become so overwhelming that he had to pull his handkerchief from his pocket, empty the rusted nails onto the tray and cover his mouth and nose with the fabric to keep his nausea at bay.

Coriolanus studied the corpse, struggling to contain his pressing disgust as he laid his eyes on the shredded flesh. The bats had gone to town on Morgan, leaving little sections of skin intact. He’d mustered up the courage to get close enough to inspect the wounds, noting that the scratches embedded along his body were not all the work of the bats. No, some of them had been too deep of a wound for a bat’s claws to commit. He had a very good idea of the origins of those wounds, his eyes flickering to the rusted nails on the tray.

He knew then that it was not strength or immunity that had protected you from the touch of death, but your keen mind and craftiness with sharp objects. Coriolanus had pieced together a rough picture of what had happened: you’d managed to get close enough to cut Morgan with the nails, ensuring wounds that were deep enough to bleed profusely, which attracted and encouraged the bats to attack him. You hadn’t been so lucky to go completely unnoticed by the bats, hence the disheveled dress, but you had sure as hell been lucky enough to have been spared from their bite.

What a clever girl you were, perhaps too much for your own good.

Coriolanus had to admit that he’d been impressed by your cruelty—your drive to survive. It gave you an edge, a promising reason to win. He liked those odds, you were becoming a plausible risk to him. Just what would you have been willing to do to a tribute you’ve yet to meet, if you’d so easily betrayed a fellow district partner?

As he’d left the morgue that evening, he couldn’t deny the smirk that had wound his lips the entire trip back. He knew then that, for the first time in all his years as a mentor, this might be the year that he’d finally claim the Plinth prize.

What a worthwhile pick you had been. He liked good investments, and you had proven to be the best one yet. You’d taken that entire game, playing it smart, staying lost in the shadows and gathering what scraps you could make into a worthwhile means of defence. You weren’t the strongest or the most skilled fighter by any means, but you were smart, and that was a quality lost on many of the tributes. They all marched around, boasting their strength as some sort of show of dominance. They thought it made them ferocious, earned them another hour of life, but Coriolanus knew that it only drew attention, that they were stupid in bringing about a speedier death. You had known that, too.

Coriolanus slipped out of his mind, watching as you’d stopped by one of the tables to grab a snack, making a point to be sloppy so that the strange man would feel honour in being able to wipe your lips clean, spurring on his ego and his erection. You had pulled that trick on Coriolanus many times. He hated seeing you provide that same sort of attention to anyone else.

His attention was diverted to a pair of Capitol business men, who had approached him and were attempting to bombard him with pitches he couldn’t have been more arsed to consider, not when he had something more pressing on his mind—not when you had deliberately stolen his attention away.

How incredibly selfish that you should demand his time even when you were not at his side, or laying below him with your legs spread open and cunt practically begging for his generosity. He didn’t tolerate time-wasters of any regard, so he’d ensure that you made up for it.

He lifted a dismissive hand toward the face of one of the men, who fell silent with a look of indignation, but even he wasn’t fool enough to unleash his temper unto the heir of the Plinth fortune. Had Coriolanus known that murdering his best friend would have come with so many perks, he’d have made a point to bring about that particular death benefit much sooner.

He lifted the glass to his lips, draining the rich wine that had been marinating the depths of the glass for far too long. He beckoned over one of the runners, placing his empty glass onto the tray before turning his attention back to the business men.

He offered an insincere dip of his chin. “My apologies, but I’ve more pressing matters to tend to. Please, do enjoy the beverages,” he slipped between their dumbfounded bodies, before adding, “and the women, if it’d please you.”

Coriolanus manoeuvred his way through the crowd, his eyes not once leaving you, even if he had to watch you relentlessly flirt with the other man. Not only were you good with your hands, but you unintentionally weaponised your beauty, too. He had always thought you to possess an innocence that seemed to frame your features, a natural gift that kept eyes focused on the contours of your face rather than on the schemes of your hands. That had always been your advantage—in the games and in your everyday interactions.

It made him angry that you’d remade his mind in this way. No matter how much Coriolanus tried to remind himself of the purpose he’d been bred for, all that he’d done to get to where he was now, all the people he’d carelessly murdered—there was no denying the truth:

No matter what higher, callous deity he claimed to be, he was only just a man, carved from anger and burdened with otherworldly jealously. All because of you.

Just as Coriolanus had managed to push past the last of the dancing bodies that had been blocking his path, he spotted you leaving through the doors, dragging your new pet behind you. His footsteps were brisk as he made for that same doorway, his fists balling at his sides as he stifled the urge to redirect his anger unto the unsuspecting door man. No, he’d best save that anger for you, transform it into something that would make you suffer, as he’d been forced to endure this evening.

He slipped through the doors, instantly greeted by a much quieter atmosphere, the laughter and music of the event muffled behind the now closed doors. Across the room, he saw you slip into the elevator, glimpsing just a hint of a smirk on your perfect lips as the doors slid closed and engulfed his view of you.

Annoyance pricked at his chest, he’d have to wait for the elevator to come back down. That was too much time gifted to you, time that could easily be used to bring you one step closer to coming undressed for that man. He’d never found himself wishing for a stairwell more than he did right now, but Capitol architecture stupidly insisted that stairs were a concept made only for the districts.

Coriolanus trudged his way over to the elevator, running an impatient hand through his hair as he watched the countdown of the various different floors commence on the monitor. His residence was the topmost floor, an expensive suite that the Plinths had gifted him on his day of recognition. He’d been kind enough to allow you to stay in one of his rooms, to have you in his proximity at all times where you’d more than once enjoyed the free luxury of his lifestyle, and this is how you’d repaid him—by bringing other men into his sacred space.

He couldn’t help but imagine what you were up to at this instant. The thought of you trapped beneath the man on one of the sofas overlooking the city made him bite the inside of his cheek—those were the sofas he’d so often pinned you to, forcing you to admire the view as he admired you, demonstrating his praise for your beauty through the actions of his fingers in your cunt.

When Coriolanus had first met you, he had thought you hated drawing attention, especially when it warranted a much speedier death in the games. You’d always been so reserved, so hellbent on silence as you kept a calculating eyes on anybody who wasn’t you. He’d like that quiet air about you, it was a call for guidance, a plea for somebody to claim your trust—he knew he could have given that to you.

But now, Coriolanus could have laughed at that thought.

You, hating attention? What an odd facade he’d so easily been fooled by—but he’d grown smarter since your first encounter. He knew the real truth now. What a glorious night that had been, the first time he’d taken you to bed. He could still smell the desperation that had trailed from your cunt as his nose burrowed into your swollen and beckoning clit—the way his hands had squeezed the skin of your inner thighs a faint blue in his attempt to trap them against the bed. They’d been so eager to wrap around his neck, to make him prisoner within your euphoria. He’d shown his disapproval by wedging your thighs further apart, an action that earned a shocked moan from you, coupled with a gasp at the growing aggression of his tongue inside of you.

How he enjoyed being the puppeteer of your body, pulling your limbs every which way until you’d been contorted and opened up for him to exploit. You often needed reminding that you were sentenced to his will, made prisoner to his desires.

He could still feel the faint traces of your arousal that had painted pictures across the sharp lines of his jaw, mercilessly freed by the way his tongue had ravished your folds and plucked from you what little dignity and silence you had managed to fashion up until that very moment. No matter how much you’d pretend to feel indifferent to his attention, your body had always betrayed you—it was unashamedly and passionately thankful to his ministrations.

Your pathetic moans still echoed on a loop in the dark corners of his mind—an ear worm he couldn’t discard of, though he couldn’t honestly admit that he’d want anything of the sort. It spurred him on, serving as a constant reminder of his pretty possession, and just how much you needed him—his touch, his validation, his attention. He was the poison-kissed oxygen that you couldn’t help but inhale, fooling yourself that it would somehow replenish the air in your lungs and give you the freedom of living, existing, all the while your every bodily cell came closer and closer to becoming his. It didn’t take much for him to claim all that you were and all that you could be, only the right words and that glorious goddamn night in bed.

He’d completely remade you in his image, branded you with his bedroom generosity, always leaving you with just enough to satisfy, but never enough to last for more than a few hours. You always came back begging for more.

What an attention whore.

At last, the elevator dinged its arrival, the doors opening to welcome Coriolanus inside. He slipped in almost instantly, moving to press the button of the top floor. When the doors finally closed, he became trapped in the air lingering inside, noticing a trace of your sweet perfume. He’d come to admire that scent, thought of it as a way to identify every place you’d been in. But your sweet scent had fused with the musky odour of that strange man, an unpleasant smell that suffocated your own in mere seconds. He could only imagine that same odour plastering itself to your neck and all across your clothes as the man forced himself onto you, enjoying what didn’t belong to him.

After a few minutes, the elevator came to a stop, the doors sliding open to reveal two intertwined bodies at the other end of the lobby. You were pinned against the doors to Coriolanus’ suite, the man’s hands wandering beneath your dress and up your magnificent thighs, shrivelled lips sloppily searching the skin of your neck. Your head was tossed back against the wood, eyes sown shut as you let slip the sweetest of moans, a sound that Coriolanus had claimed as his own.

He barged through the elevator doors, the sound of his angered footsteps earning your attention. You lowered your head to him, watching with a playful smile at what was about to unfold. He ignored it, the satisfaction in that grin, the sense of achievement at your ability to control him, have him trailing after you like a dog on a leash. He’d let you have this moment, to savour its short-lived existence because once he was through with this man, he’d show you just how much trouble you’d caused him.

Coriolanus grabbed the oblivious man at the collar of his shirt, too far gone to think with his brain rather than his cock to notice he’d appeared, and plucked him from you. He shoved the man away, who stumbled backwards with his footsteps serving as clear evidence of mild intoxication. The toad began protesting, before his eyes finally found Coriolanus and his lips clamped shut on a look of realisation.

“You come into my house, drink my wine, enjoy my woman, all without a trace of shame?” Coriolanus snapped, his voice gruff with built-up anger.

The man fashioned an apologetic look. “I didn’t mean any offence, Mr. Snow, I swear by it!” His hands made frantic gestures, eager to exonerate himself. “It was her that came onto me, she invited me back here, suggested we get to know each other better—“

Coriolanus lifted his chin, his glare cold as he stared down his nose at the man. “Are you implying that it’s her fault?” It most certainly was, but if Coriolanus had to endure all that had just happened, he intended to have some fun with it.

The man stilled with a look of uncertainty that passed between you and Coriolanus, his hand moving to scratch the back of his head.

“Are you even a man at all, if you’re so easily influenced by a girl that bats her lashes at you and caresses your arm one time?” He had to ignore the irony in that statement; he could’ve almost been talking into a mirror. “You’re pathetic, blaming your lack of control and better judgement on her,” he said, eyes hardening as he took a step forward, the man simultaneously retreating a step with a gulp.

“Go find whatever excuse of a manhood you claim to have in somebody else’s cunt, and don’t let me catch you back in this building. It wont be words that warn you off next time.” His hands clenched into fists at his side, itching to grab the fleeing man and grace him with a well-earned punch—but he wouldn’t gift you that satisfaction, too.

When the elevator doors closed on the stranger, Coriolanus turned to face you. You were picking at your nails busily, as though the entire interaction had bored you beyond interest.

“What were you thinking?” He snapped at you, inching closer to glare you down.

You glanced up from your hands, offering a mere shrug as you crossed your arms and glanced up at him cheekily. “I wasn’t thinking at all, really,” you admitted. “Just wanted to feel some good things.”

Bitterness found its way onto Coriolanus’ tongue. “Do I not make you feel good enough?” He scolded coolly, his eyes searching yours angrily. “Would you rather I call that prick back and have him stick his two expired inches inside you?”

A hint of hurt seemed to widen your eyes, your expression shaped with confusion. “Didn’t think you cared what I got up to,” you muttered, glancing off to the side.

Coriolanus knew that to be complete bullshit, a feeble play at attempting to settle your own insecurities. He knew what you wanted to hear from him—that you mattered to him, that he wanted you to himself, that the mere thought of another man touching you would send him into inexplicable rage. To an extent, those were all true, but not in the way you'd wanted them to be, not in a way he was capable of giving.

He restrained the anger he felt towards you, knowing that he needed to take a gentler approach. You weren't in a state fit to endure his anger, not now. He needed to coddle you, to keep your emotions intact, otherwise he risked losing you. He couldn't have that.

“I care,” he said at last, moving a hand to grip at your chin. He’d forgotten how soft your skin was, it’d been weeks since he’d been permitted to touch you, business keeping him away from your warmth. He moved your face to his, searching between your eyes and your lips. “And you know that I care, too, or you wouldn’t have put on this little display.”

“You don’t care—not really, Coriolanus,” you snapped, your hand plucking his from your chin. “You constantly remind me that I’m nothing more than pleasure to you, an object you love to parade around, so as long as it’s your name engraved on me.”

Correct, he thought, his hand returning to his side. He gazed at you, the cogs of his mind reeling busily as he cautiously selected his next words. He couldn’t be angry with you, not now when you were so fragilely being kept together by emotion. It mattered what he said to you, even if the words weren’t honest. He knew that you needed reassurance, something akin to love to cling to, to keep you satisfied beside him. The condition that came with having a toy he loved to play with, was having to look after it, to ensure it didn’t break or wear with time.

That was exactly what he had to do with you, so he fed you whatever conniving words he could to keep you indulged in whatever illusion you’d had about your relationship with Coriolanus. A necessary evil to preserve his hold over you. He was selfish that way, but you were far too entertaining to let slip, and he did rather enjoy you—your company and your body.

Truthfully, you did have some sort of hold over him, and he’d let just enough of that truth show to control you, to convince you of his love for you.

“In all my years of existing, I've never once felt compelled to share my life with somebody else," Coriolanus told you softly. He moved his hand to return that same rogue strand of hair back behind your ear. "Not until you. I can't explain it, the way the mere thought of you with another man sends me into an unparalleled rage—to think that he could give you something I couldn't. The thought of somebody touching you the way I touch you. . . It's unbearable, unacceptable." He placed his hands on either one of your cheeks, lifting your head to face him. His words had too easily buttered you up, moulded your face with a look of infatuation. “If I didn’t care about you, I wouldn’t have followed you all the way up here. I’d have let you fuck whoever you want, whenever you want, however you want. But the fact is, I care—a lot.”

You still harboured a certain look of uncertainty in your eyes, those damned eyes that made him go feral. He could tell that you wanted to believe him, but you had reservations that he hadn’t yet satisfied with his words. He needed to say more, do more.

“Do you see me chasing after any other girl the way I chase after you?” He pressed on, grabbing your face a little more ferociously, just to sell the point. “You’ve consumed me, reduced any ounce of respect I’ve once had for myself to nothingness. I could’ve had you pawned off the Capitol after the games, to do whatever bidding they demanded of you, but I chose to keep you by my side, to spoil you with everything you deserve for winning the games. Tell me one person who’d be willing to do the same for a district nobody that they held no care for?”

Your eyes had grown teary at his words, your bottom lip quivering beyond your control. You had meant to look tougher, Coriolanus could tell, unmoved by his words, but you were only just a naive girl burdened with the need to be loved. So you believed it, every poisonous word dripping from his lips—lapped it up hungrily like a douse of honey, in fact. Perfect. He was gaining back your trust.

You caved into Coriolanus, his hands falling from your face to wrap around your body and keep you against him. His one hand curled around the nape of your neck while the other wrapped around the small of your back, so perfectly shaped to accommodate his arm. How could he be convinced that you were not made just for him, when every aspect of your body seemed to be carved just for his touch? The hand on your head began to move with rhythmic strokes across your hair, his lips moving to place a kiss on the crown of your head. He rested his chin where he’d placed his kiss, as though sealing in the sensation, before he spoke up.

“You were incredibly selfish tonight,” he murmured. You pulled back subtly to glance up at him with slightly furrowed brows, and he lifted his chin from your head to gaze back at you impassively. “You put me through hell, making me watch as you flirted with that man, touched on him all over as you promised him sex. Do you think that was fun for me?”

Your eyes glinted with a hint of guilt, your lips parting with a soft no.

“No,” Coriolanus agreed, his eyes undeniably annoyed as he glared at your guilt-ridden expression. His fingers ventured along your back, finding the zip to your dress, the only thing keeping your body prisoner in the fabric. He tugged at the zip, harshly at first, his need to punish you poking through his actions, but he had to refrain from that for the time-being. More slowly, he began to pull the zip down your body. “I think it only fitting that you should be punished for your little games, don’t you agree?” His eyes flickered back up to yours coolly, almost challenging you to disagree.

The fabric of your dress grew loose on your body, the straps beginning to slide along the slope of your shoulders. You glanced up at him in silence, not wanting to admit the words, but the neediness on your expression told him that you were all game for your punishment—not that it ever was something unpleasant. Coriolanus was always generous when it came to putting you in your place.

“Glad we’re on the same page, dove,” he said, the dress releasing your body at last. It pooled onto the floor around your heels, leaving you barren save for the bra suffocating your breasts. He glanced down at your lower half, faintly surprised to find that you’d neglected the courtesy of wearing any underwear. "Was this supposed to be an apology?" He asked, glancing back at you through a charming smirk.

A smile broke through onto your lips. "I thought it'd make undressing me quicker," you replied, lowering yourself to remove the heels from your feet. You were glad to be free of that hell. They made your calves look good, but they were torture on your feet.

"Well, aren't you considerate?" Coriolanus responded, then paused before adding. "So you knew how this night would end, with you and I nothing but a sexual amalgamation?”

"It was more of a hope,” you replied as you straightened yourself up.

Coriolanus' constraint gave in at your insinuations, his hand moving to caress your cheek, his eyes lowering to your perfect lips that he craved to taste in that very moment. You reached up to deliver the unspoken need onto his lips, but he kept you grounded with a hand around your collarbone. "You're not kissing me with those lips," he told you. “Not after that prick has wiped his saliva all over you.”

His hand left your body to reach into his blazer pockets. He pulled out a key, his hand snaking around your waist to slip the key into the door hole. His face was intentionally leaned close to yours, his eyes narrowed with a mixture of concentration as he struggled to unlock the door, and because he could smell the man’s cologne clinging desperately to your skin. He’d need to take care of that before the evening could proceed, it was a detrimental hinderance to his cock. At last, the doors gave in with a loud click, and he pulled the key from the lock.

He leaned back with a curt beckoning of his chin. "After you,” he said, placing the key back into his blazer, his eyes not once neglecting yours.

You gave him a long stare, almost daring to be disobedient before you clearly thought better of it. You bent over to collect your dress and your shoes before turning to push the doors open. Coriolanus dropped his attention to your ass, which practically begged for his approval as it bounced with your every step. He entered inside after you, closing the doors behind him.

You ventured a few steps into the well-furnished living room of the suite and tossed your clothing onto the nearest sofa, your eyes trained on the glass walls that offered a breath-taking view of Panem. You’d always marvel over the cityscape as if it was your first time seeing it, but in all honesty, it was the fact that the lights of Panem fashioned a different colour each night, and it always seemed to illuminate new buildings and views that you’d never noticed before.

Coriolanus watched you, your hand absentmindedly reaching to hold your elbow as you admired the view—one that you’d already seen countless times before, he thought. He wondered whether you were contemplating your circumstances in this instant, as if the reality of what you’d done had finally started to sink in, and what the consequences to follow would be. He could read you fairly well, but there were still moments that your thoughts were lost on him.

“Are you scared?” He asked, his voice echoing throughout the empty space.

You turned to face him, your hands falling to your side. The lighting was dim, but the amusement etched onto your features were clear. “Scared? I didn’t survive the games only to be scared of you, Coriolanus Snow. Besides, this is hardly our first rodeo. I can’t imagine there’s much more surprises you could spring on me.”

Coriolanus cocked his eyebrows, smiling at those words. He appreciated your effortless wit. Most of Panem’s ladies were annoyingly submissive in their conversation, saying only what they thought he wanted to hear, as though it’d make them more desirable to him. You didn’t need to be told what to say, you just said it, and he was glad for it. Control could be exhausting, especially when he strove to maintain it in almost every aspect of his life. It was refreshing to know that he didn’t have to control your personality, too.

“Good,” he said, inching closer until he could reach out a hand to grab your arm. He turned you around forcefully, cool fingers teasingly tracing the skin of your shoulder as he made his way down to the clasp of your bra. He undid the hook, freeing your breasts from the pretty white lace, before tossing it onto the sofa beside your other discarded items. He turned you back to him, his eyes instantly lowering to the hardened nipples crowning your soft breasts. “Somebody’s eager,” He jested, his voice a soft rumble as his eyes rose to meet yours. “Did you want something from me?”

“You know I always do, Coryo,” you responded, taking your lower lip into a subtle bite.

Coriolanus’s eyes hardened at that nickname. “Don’t call me that,” he demanded. That version of himself had died a long time ago.

Your eyebrows cocked at his tone, your lips momentarily pursed before you asked, “should I call you Mr. Snow instead?”

“Just Coriolanus,” he replied, rolling his shoulders to remove his crimson blazer. Your eyes were stalking his every move. He could tell that you wanted nothing more than to reach out to what little clothing remained on his body and tear it away mercilessly—that you wanted him to take you right here at this very instant. But he was faintly impressed at your patience as you decided against any reckless action, instead opting to wait for his next command.

He folded his blazer and draped it over his arm, his free hand beckoning for you to follow him to his bedroom. “Come on.”

Your eyes followed his footsteps, your disbelief keeping your feet glued to the ground. Coriolanus glanced over his shoulder when your footsteps didn’t commence behind him. Your reaction was justifiable. He’d never once once invited you into his room in all the months you’d lived with him. He knew that you were foolishly thinking that this moment marked an intimate milestone in your relationship, that this act was an attempt for him to show just how much you meant to him.

“Problem?” He asked.

You willed away the dumbfounded look on your face, offering a half-hearted no as you caught up to Coriolanus. As if the sentiment was fragile, you merely walked ahead of him in silence, afraid that one wrong word would revoke the invite.

He trailed behind you as you approached the door to his bedroom. You tossed a glance over your shoulder as you sought out confirmation in your actions. Coriolanus gave a small nod, an encouraging smirk poking through. You smiled back, turning your attention to opening the door. You slipped inside, your attention instantly flying to the furniture that occupied the space. It was modest, very limited to necessities.

The bed, needlessly big, was slightly undone, the comforters left untidy as though he’d just climbed out of bed and the covers half pulled from the pillows—a picture frozen in time. A plate and a mug was stacked onto the bedside table, the previous day’s clothes draped across the sofas near the windows. Your eyes were fixating every detail around the room, as though burning a mental picture into your mind as a souvenir for later.

Coriolanus moved to place his blazer beside his other clothes on the sofa. “Sorry for the mess,” he offered, moving to undo the buttons of his waistcoat. “As I’m sure you know, I don’t usually have the worry of entertaining guests.”

You turned to face him, your eyes lowering to his skilful fingers. “I like the mess,” you responded, making your way over to him. “It feels personal, seeing this side of you—allow me to.” You shooed his hands off the waistcoat, taking his place in undoing the buttons. You glanced up at him seductively, your eyes flickering down to his full lips.

He watched you undress him, slowly but surely, knowing that he could’ve done a much faster job. But he allowed you to take on the role, knowing that it made you feel important, that your body would show him just how thankful you were and how much these little details meant to you. Once you had unfastened the last button, you removed the waistcoat and admired his toned and broad physique, painfully concealed behind his white shirt.

Coriolanus glared at your wandering eyes, wondering whether you were trying to picture him naked. He’d never been fully undressed in all of their little rendezvous, it was something far too intimate for him. And there had only been a few occasions where he’d fucked you with his cock and not his fingers or his mouth. He’d found himself deriving the utmost pleasure when he got to solely focus on how you came undone for him, how powerful his every movement upon you really was.

When your hands moved to undo the buttons of his shirt, he grabbed at your wrist. “Not yet,” he told you. “You still reek of him.” You frowned at his words, your hands falling to your sides in disappointment. “Come with me,” he said, moving past you toward the bathroom. “We’re going to take a little bath.”

Your interest peaked at his words. “We’re going to bath together?” You asked curiously as you followed after him.

“You’re going to bath,” Coriolanus corrected as he reached the large alcove bathtub. He leaned over to turn on the tap. “I’m going to watch.” His hand trailed the many soaps and balms that lined the rim of the bathtub. He’d made it a mission to collect every scented product he could manage once he got his hand on the money, simply because he could, and he liked smelling good.

“Sounds perverted,” you shot at him, crossing your arms as you watched him draw your bath.

He grabbed ahold of a rose-scented oil and began pouring it into the water. “You didn’t agree to live with me because of my normalcy,” he said distractedly. “But because you knew just how much my so called perversion had to offer your pathetic, little, touch-starved body.”

He tossed a glance at you over his shoulder, satisfied by the red gleam that had snuck onto your cheeks. He turned his attention back to the tub, reaching for a bottle of bubble bath. He began adding it to the water, a few droplets reaching up to stain his shirt.

“In any case,” Coriolanus continued. “It’s the least you could do for me after tonight’s shit-show.” He placed the bottle back against the wall, closing the tap once the water had reached an appropriate level. He unbuttoned the cufflinks of his shirt and rolled up the sleeves, taking a few paces back. He jerked his head at you. “Go on,” he demanded.

You unfurled into a dramatic stretch, parading your breasts as you faced him. “Join me.”

He fixed you with an unwavering stare, not so keen to play into another one of your games. “Get in.”

With one last glare, you turned and dipped one leg into the bath, instantly pulling back with a hiss. Your head snapped to face him. “It’s too hot,” you protested.

Coriolanus moved to retrieve a chair from the corner of the bathroom, placing it a few inches from where you stood. He sat himself down, offering a mere shrug to your words. “Good observation.”

“I’m not going to burn myself bloody just so that you can get off,” you spat.

“Then let’s kill some time while we wait for the water to cool down,” he suggested, his eyes once again tracing over every inch of your exposed body with keen interest.

You looked open to his request. “What did you have in mind?”

Coriolanus’s eyes flickered back up to you. “Touch yourself,” he said earnestly. You paused at his words, suddenly looking self-conscious, before you hesitantly began to caress your breasts. He watched your fingers squeeze and grope at your skin, imagining that it were his own hands in their stead, only he’d be a lot less kind in his touch. Your fingers trailed teasing circles around your nipples, further hardened at your own toying and his intense observation.

“Lower,” he ordered, feeling frustrated at your lack of venturing into your lower extremities.

Your eyes glinted at him, a look that seemed to say greedy. Yes, he was. Who could blame him? He’d grown up starving for most days of the year, now he’d take as much as he wanted.

His eyes fixated the hand that lowered in a painfully slow motion across your stomach, reaching that sweet spot housed between your legs. As your fingers began to fondle with your clit, you threw your head back with a pitiful moan. He knew he could’ve extracted a louder sound. He almost felt obliged to take over, but he had to remind himself that you were undeserving of his touch, that you needed to be punished with the urge to feel him, yet be denied that pleasure.

A few minutes of your fondling had passed before your ministrations eventually became too overwhelming to maintain control over your body. You lowered yourself to the bathmat, your hand not once leaving your cunt. You spread your legs open, offering a broader view to Coriolanus. Your eyes were glazed over as you glanced at him. He tilted his head slightly in approval, feeling his own cock growing interested at his view of your pathetic situation.

“That’s good, sweetheart,” he praised, noting the way your eyes lowered to his pants. He parted his legs slightly to take the pressure off of his growing erection, eager to hide his arousal. He didn’t want you to notice just yet how much he was truly enjoying this. Your movements eventually became more erratic, incoherent sounds spewing from your lips.

“I need you, Coriolanus,” you managed to blabber out, your tired head resting onto the rim of the bathtub, eyes periodically fluttering closed as you alternated between consciousness and whatever universe of pleasure was found behind your eyes. “Please,” you begged.

“You’ll have me soon,” he said, “when I see it fit.”

“I’ve been good for you,” you protested breathlessly. “I’ve done everything you told me to.”

“You have a lot to atone for,” Coriolanus pointed out, his eyes lowering to where your hand had slowed its movements. “Don’t stop until I tell you to.”

You glanced at him past your tired lids, but you obliged nonetheless, adding a finger inside of your cunt to increase the pressure. He supposed it was fair, if he had refused to place his own fingers inside of you. He couldn’t help the smirk that crept onto lips as he watched a stream of white begin to trail from your opening, recalling how good you tasted. It was a shame, really, that it would go to waste onto the bathroom mat instead of onto his appreciative tongue. From the sound of your pathetic mewling and your ragged breathing, Coriolanus knew that you were growing close to your high. He didn’t intend for the fun to end just yet.

“I want you to continue until you feel like you’re going to cum,” he told you, though he wasn’t sure you’d heard him past you own noise. “And then I want you to stop just before that happens.”

“That’s mean, Coriolanus,” you managed to say.

“You haven’t seen mean yet, dove,” he said. “Now stop talking and focus.”

Your fingers picked up their pace with a newfound eagerness, the knot in your stomach growing inescapably larger, the urge to come undone becoming harder and harder to contain. Coriolanus wasn’t sure you’d obey his command at this point, you looked too far gone to resume control over your own actions. His eyes narrowed, watching closely at what fate you’d choose to follow. Much to his disappointment, you practiced constraint, your hips shooting up with anticipation, only to sink to the floor as you denied yourself the orgasm.

You glanced at Coriolanus past your teary lashes, a silent request for praise. He heeded your need, rising from his seat to crouch beside your slumped figure. He combed the loose hair from your face, wiping away the beads of sweat that dotted your forehead.

“You’re too good for this world,” he murmured sweetly. He felt as though he could have choked on the banality of his words, but the soft look in your eyes as you gazed up at him made it worthwhile. He nodded to your hand, still resting on your cunt. “Show me how good you felt.”

You pulled your hand from its playground between your legs, creamy white webs entangled on your fingers. They pulled a string along your stomach as you lifted your fingers for Coriolanus to study.

“It almost looks like you don’t need my help,” he chuckled, his hand fastening around your wrist to bring your fingers to his lips. His blue eyes bore down into you as he took each of your fingers into his mouth. One by one, his tongue hungrily weaved around them, claiming your juices from your skin.

You gazed at him with a wild look ablaze in your eyes. “Don’t I deserve a taste?” You said. “After all, I did all the hard work. I deserve to taste the fruits of my labour.”

“You should be modest,” Coriolanus said once he removed your fingers from his mouth. “Nobody likes a brag.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” you retorted lightly, your eyes glinting with exhaustion. “I like you.”

“Mhm,” he offered softly, placing your hand gently onto your chest. He reached his hand between your legs, an action that caused your thighs to stiffen around him. “Relax,” he cooed, pressing his palm into one of your thighs, encouraging you to open up to him.

“Sorry,” you said, easing off the defensiveness. “I’m sensitive down there at the moment.”

“I’ll be careful,” he promised, gazing at your fragile expression. Fuck, he could take you right here. His fingers moved with caution as they glided along the folds of your drenched cunt, gathering up your cum into untidy clumps. He followed a trail of arousal that had traveled down into the cleft of your ass, pressing a teasing finger into your asshole.

You gasped at the sudden invasion, and Coriolanus’s throat rumbled with a chuckle. He removed his fingers and brought them to your lips. You glanced at his slender fingers, not needing much convincing to take them into your mouth. You turned your attention to him as you began to suck at him suggestively, exaggerating your head bobbing as you made a point to cover the entire length of his fingers.

He watched you with a lopsided smirk, enjoying the whore-like behaviour you so willingly offered him. Now and again, he’d thrust his fingers a little too deep, more than what your throat could handle, which caused you to gag around him. Strings of your saliva had begun to slither down his exposed forearm, pleasantly warm on his skin. He imagined his cock in the stead of his fingers, enjoying the same warmth and wetness your mouth had to offer.

When you’d decidedly had enough of licking his fingers clean, you pulled your lips from him with a characteristic pop. Coriolanus reached that hand over the bathtub, dipping it into the water to feel its temperature. It had cooled down considerably, but it was still warm enough for a worthwhile soak. He withdrew his hand and wiped his fingers onto his shirt.

“The bath will get cold soon,” he told you. “Get in.”

“Is that all?” You asked disappointedly.

“Get yourself cleaned up, and I’ll show you what I’ve got in stock for you.” He straightened up and took a few paces back as you perked with new resolve and found your feet.

He backed up to reclaim his position on the chair, crossing his legs as he watched you. Your back was momentarily on him as you climbed into the bathtub, the water sloshing a welcome. You submerged yourself into the warmth almost instantly, a content groan reverberating in your throat. His eyes lowered to your hand, which had began to spread the foam of the bubble bath across your bare chest and breasts.

“The water’s so good,” you murmured.

“Don’t get too relaxed,” he warned.

“Why don’t you join me, Coriolanus,” you said, your eyes fluttered open as you moved to fold your arms onto the lip of bathtub. You rested your chin onto your arms, glancing at the erection he could no longer conceal. “I’ll take good care of your little cock, that should keep me on my toes.” Your expression beamed at your choice of words, deliberately chosen to get a rise out of him.

Coriolanus merely scoffed at your teasing. He had many things to prove, but the size of his cock was not one of them.

“You sure you could handle me, since you’re still so sensitive down there?” He asking mockingly. He leaned back into his chair, his hand coming up to clench his chin, the other grabbing his elbow.

You tilted your head prettily to one side. “Only one way to find out,” you murmured, leaning back against the wall of the tub as you kicked your foot out and onto the edge. Water splashed partially onto the bathmat, but most had been caught by the bare floor.

Coriolanus lowered his eyes to the puddle. “You’re making quite a mess for someone who’s been in here for less than half an hour.”

“Give me an hour and you’ll see just how much of a mess I can make,” you challenged.

He lifted his chin to face you, his eyes narrowing the slightest. This side of you was something he’d never experienced before; you were a lot more daring, undoubtedly brought on by the importance you felt at being allowed the opportunity to bathe in his bathroom and in his company. He’d like to test just how long you could keep up this illusion of bravery, and how quickly you’d drop it when he had you sprawled onto his fingers.

“Come here, then,” he said, uncrossing his legs and spreading it as an invitation for your thighs.

Your eyes snuck a peak at his hard on before you broke away from your slutty pose and climbed from the warmth of the tub. You took a few steps toward Coriolanus, water and soap slithering down the curves of your body and onto the floor.

You stopped short of his legs. “You’re sure?” You asked, eyes making a point of the shirt and pants he still wore. “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable with a little less on?”

Coriolanus grunted from a place of impatience, reaching out his hand to grab at your wrist. He pulled you into his lap, rough hands guiding your hips to comfortably straddle his clothed thighs. The soapy water coating your body began to bleed into his clothes, his pants the most affected, but he could hardly be arsed in this moment. He just needed to feel you, needed to use you. His fingers gripped at your thighs, his heavenly blue eyes boring down onto your strained expression as he began to forcibly guide your bare cunt over his bulge.

Coriolanus’s movements set a generous pace, endorphins bolting through your core each time his bulge struck your sensitive clit. The texture of his pants was harsh on your skin, creating a friction that seemed to generate copious amounts of heat—screw sticks and stones, this method of fucking could have started all the fires in the world. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your lower half instinctively beginning to cooperate as you rocked back and fourth in sync with his guidance.

Your head came to rest in the chiselled crook of his neck, his earthy fragrance fucking heaven-sent on your senses, further engulfing you in bliss. His throat vibrated against your ear with strained moans, they came as subtle grunts that prompted his hands to speed up the pace. He was so eager to feel you, to settle his drawn-out erection. You winced as his fingers burrowed into the skin of your thighs. He’d neglected all caution in your handling, his need to control your movements overpowering what slither of consideration he’d held for your comfort.

It didn’t take long for the stinging sensation to blend with your pleasure, slurred moans pouring from your lips as you felt cum begin to leak from your entrance. It lubricated the fabric of Coriolanus’s pants, offering some relief from the coarse material. You screwed your eyes shut and pressed your face into his shirt, eager to muffle the mewls of pleasure you seemed to have zero control over. His chest rumbled with a breathy fuck, and you felt his body momentarily convulse with the overwhelming feelings your bodies shared.

You turned your head, your nose brushing against the skin of his neck. Your eyes fluttered open, drinking in the view of his adam’s apple, so prominent and manly. It bobbed as Coriolanus swallowed a moan. You brought your furthest hand forward to hook the side of his neck, pulling him against your lips. He didn’t resist, it’s almost as though he was too focused on his own work to pay attention to your own dealings. You littered sloppy kisses all across his neck, placing extra emphasis around his adam’s apple. You kissed all around the bulge before giving into your thoughts and dragging your tongue over it, leaving a sloppy trail in your wake.

The warmth and wetness of your tongue on his throat made Coriolanus release an unexpected groan, a hand leaving your hips to wrap around your throat. You let slip a chuckle at his action, and he held you out in front of him, his cold eyes glaring into yours as he decided to brutalise his movements. You moaned loudly, the sound strained as you forced it past his suffocating hold on your neck.

“Coriolanus,” you choked out breathlessly, your hands sliding along his broad shoulders. “I need you inside of me.”

“You’ve waited this long,” Coriolanus muttered. “You can wait a little longer.” His hold on your throat grew tighter, your vision starting to blur behind a mixture of fresh tears and your compromised oxygen.

He watched your eyes flutter closed and your teeth clench as you inched closer and closer to your edge, your nails digging through his shirt and into his shoulders, steading yourself against his aggression. His singular hand on your hip began to cramp at his incessant groping and steering, but he was beginning to feel his own orgasm approaching, and that was motivation enough to push through—that, and your whorish desperation.

He released his grip on your neck, the air returning to your lungs as a cough and a splutter. He hooked the nape of your neck and pulled you into the comfort of his shoulder, urging you to rest your tired head there as he finished you both off. With both hands once again firm on your hips, he picked up the pace. He rested his chin onto the crown of your head, his eyes fluttering closed as he allowed the scent of your conditioner to swallow his senses.

With each movement, he brought you down harder onto his cock, craving rougher strokes. The squelching of the cum coating your folds and spreading along his pants was music to his ears, and he gritted his teeth to bite back his ragged breathing so that he could continue to hear the way he’d transformed your cunt. He could feel his own pre-cum trickling from his tip, the warmth spreading along his shaft by the generosity of your wet folds. Fucking hell did he yearn to be inside of you, almost as much as you craved him, but he had to be stronger than his own desires.

It didn’t take long before every nerve tracing the length of his cock began to fire rapid impulses, the prolonged stimulation proving to be too overbearing. His lips parted with strained breaths, the black abyss behind his eyes beginning to birth a cosmos of anticipatory stars. The image built and built until he thrust you one last violent time along his cock, his hips rocking up into you, delivering just the right ounce of pressure before white engulfed his vision.

His grip on your hips loosened, his ears buzzing with the aftermath of his high. He hadn’t even realised that you’d come undone before he had, your whimpers and vulgar pleas lost in his concentration. The only evidence of your orgasm was the new patch of wetness that had marked his pants, a generous mixture of squirt and cum.

Your breathless voice sounded at his ear as you moved your head from under his chin. “I want to feel like that all the time.”

“That can be arranged, dove,” he chuckled hoarsely.

You felt his hand leave your hip, the skin there instantly growing cool. He dragged his fingers repeatedly along the wisps of your hair. It was as though he were petting a dog, only his touch was a lot gentler and more intimate. You allowed your eyes to flutter closed, your lips parting with a content sigh as you waited for the ecstasy of your orgasm to dissolve. You rested your chin on his shoulder, listening to the calm of his breathing, focusing on his hand caressing your hair.

You pulled back to glance at him, his eyes questioning as he returned your stare. Your attention moved to his lips, they looked so soft and plump, not nearly red enough. You’d been robbed of the opportunity to nibble on them, to contort them between your own lips, to taste the wine he’d downed at the party. You didn’t think you’d be properly satisfied until you got your wish. Did that make you ungrateful?

Coriolanus offered a faint smirk, your thoughts loud and clear. How selfish of him, he’d forgotten to kiss you during your little ride. Not a train-smash, he had the entire night to make up for that. His hand on your hair tightened there, forcing you into his vicinity. You wanted to protest at the hairs pulling at your scalp, but you hadn’t gotten the chance, not when his lips silenced yours in a hungry tumble.

He didn’t kiss you as often as you would’ve liked, but when he did, it was always imbued with passion, his movements erratic like he’d been starving and you were the first source of food he’d encountered in days. You got lost in the movement of his lips, the pace so fast that you couldn’t properly match it, though not for lack of trying. You allowed yourself to be swept up in his kiss, accepting that he was in control.

Coriolanus moved his hands to grab ahold of your breasts, his attention marvellously divided between fondling them and tracing his tongue along the inside of your mouth. You moaned into him, the sound muffled and lost to your entanglement. His teeth scraped against your bottom lip, offering a sharp nip that caused you to wince in surprise. You felt his lips broaden in a smug smile, his hands neglecting your breasts and trailing a seductive path down your waist to deliver a crisp spank to your ass.

The skin stung where he’d struck you, but he was so quick to soothe the ache with gentle rubbing. The curves of your ass fit so perfectly into his palms. He pulled his lips from yours, not sparing even an instant for you to process his movements before his sharp nose found sanctuary in your cleavage. He littered kisses there before moving to plant a trail around the circumference of your breasts.

“Coriolanus,” you moaned, your head lolling back.

He hummed against your skin, a halfhearted acknowledgement. His hand found its way between your thighs, his middle finger sliding between your labia where beads of your brand new arousal waited to greet him. He slathered his fingers in your juice, lubricating the skin before he slid his finger into your entrance.

Your entire composure collapsed at that, the built up suspense of needing him inside you satisfied at last. Your entrance clamped around him at first, the sensation always forgotten with how few and far apart these glorious moments were spread, but within a fraction of a second, you melted onto his finger.

You nibbled at your lower lip, the bite deepening as Coriolanus’s teeth found your nipple. He alternated between tugging at your hardened buds and swirling his tongue around and all over it, mischievously marking steaks of saliva along your skin. A few seconds later, his ring and index finger joined the party within you.

Your grip on his shoulders lowered down his back, eagerly clawing at the hard and chiselled muscles, but his damned shirt got in the way. You pulled back, Coriolanus’ lips robbed of your breasts. He glanced at you, his fingers continuing their thrusts. Your hands flew to tug at the buttons of his shirt. The first few you’d managed to undo, but you had finite patience for the others, resorting to an aggressive tug that split the buttons from the fabric.

“Are you going to pay for that?” Coriolanus jested lightly.

“I’m sure there’s plenty more shirts where that one came from,” you said hastily, yanking the sleeves down his broad shoulders.

You instantly dove in to kiss at his chest. He’d never been excessively muscled, but he was still strong and toned, his frame broad and absolutely mouth-watering to gaze upon. Your hands wandered along his chest, sliding along his shoulders and down his arms. You attempted to tug his shirt all the way off, Coriolanus aiding your motion as he momentarily pulled his fingers from inside you.

He rolled his shoulders and removed his shirt, tossing it onto the floor. You glanced at his torso, now completely exposed to you. You couldn’t stifle the smile on your lips, thinking that he looked a lot like a male stripper—bare-chested yet still clothed from the waist down, presenting himself on a chair. All he was missing was a sexy dance of some sort.

Coriolanus frowned at your gawking. “What’s on that mind of yours?”

You pursed your lips. “Nothing,” you answered, placing a kiss on his lips. You moved to murmur in his ear, “now If it’s not too much to ask, would you kindly stick your fingers back inside of me?”

When you withdrew to look at him, Coriolanus wore a wicked smirk. “What a slutty thing to say.” His fingers returned to your cunt, but instead of easing his way inside, he opted for his whole hand at once.

You didn’t know whether you were more shocked at his gesture, or the way your cunt had easily welcomed him. His movements were considerably less cautious than before, but you didn’t care about that now, only that he was finally inside of you. You let out a lengthy moan, so eager to verbalise your appreciation. Your hands moved to cup your breasts, squeezing and kneading them together as you tilted your head back.

You closed your eyes and focused on his hand inside you, how each thrust grew deeper and closer to your sweet spot. It’s as though he’d already mapped out your insides, his fingers knowing exactly which way to wander. Gods, you truly didn’t know whether you or Coriolanus enjoyed this more. He kept up a regular pace for a while, and you’d quickly grown impatient and needy for his brutality.

“Faster,” you complained.

Coriolanus slowed his movements, coming to a complete stop. He wholly expected the miserable look on your face as your head snapped down to face him. How could he allow you to think that he was here to serve you, as opposed to you serving him. He wasn’t just going to hand you what you wanted, life certainly hadn’t been that generous with him. No, you’d have to work for it.

“Okay, we can go faster,” he said, cocking his head slightly. You regained a spark at those words, but it quickly blew out at what came next. “But you’ll do it yourself, since you’re unsatisfied with what I’m giving you.”

“I didn’t mean it like that—“ you attempted to protest, but Coriolanus cut you off with free his index finger pressing against your lips, his lips fashioned in a hush.

“No talking,” he murmured. “Just get to work.” He beckoned down to your cunt, his hand motionless inside of you.

Devastated at having to do the work yourself, you crossed your arms around his neck, your expression adorably resentful as you lifted your hips and began to ride him. Coriolanus lowered his free hand to rest at your hip, his attention wandering to your breasts. He couldn’t have ignored them even if he tried, not when they were bouncing inches from his face and calling out for attention. Your moans quickly commenced, your hips already starting to tremble with your next orgasm. You tossed your head back, your movements becoming uncoordinated, like your body had already started to give up.

Coriolanus felt your walls begin to clench around his hand, glancing up to glimpse your face. “Look at me,” he called to you. Your head lowered to face him at once, your eyelids drooping. “Are you going to cum?” He asked, and you nodded eagerly, followed by a strewn out moan.

Good, he thought. His hand on your hip began to press against your movements, interrupting the pace you’d managed to get going. Your eyes widened as your orgasm retracted into a dissatisfying gasp, the high that had been building instantly collapsed at your sudden lack of movement.

“Coriolanus,” you snapped, your tone coming across as a whine. You’d become frustrated with his teasing, and your body shared the sentiment. Your clit ached now, exhausted tremors seizing every muscle of your body. “You’re being a dick!”

“No,” he countered, pulling his hand from your entrance. He looked condescending as his eyes flickered across you face. “I’m punishing you, just like I promised. You’re getting exactly what you deserve, but you’re spoiled and used to getting your way.”

You didn’t have anything to retort, so you glared at him in silence, ignoring the hurt that his words had inflicted upon you.

“Don’t pout,” he murmured, wiping his wet hand along your thigh.

Then, without warning, he hoisted you up at the thighs and manoeuvred you bridal-style from the bathroom towards the bedroom. He lowered you onto the undone comforters of his bed, leaning down with you to place a swift kiss on your furrowed brows. He straightened up at the foot of the bed, his hands reaching for your calves.

“You want to cum?” He asked, his fingers wrapping around your legs to pull you down the bed and closer to where he stood. “I’ll make you cum, over and over again.” That was a promise.

Your lips parted with shock, words scattering from your tongue as his hands travelled over yours knees and grabbed at your thighs. He pried your legs apart, exposing your cunt to him. The last view you captured of him was the way his eyes traced your exposed lower half, a barely noticeable smirk pulling at one corner of his lips. Then, his head dipped into you, his tongue flat and rough on your folds.

You threw your head back into the sheets, your fingers instantly curling into the material as if it were the only thing keeping you grounded and preventing you from getting carried away into another universe. Coriolanus was conscious to strike his nose against your tender clit every so often, clearly enjoying the way it sent a jerk through your body. It was like his own personal control-switch to play with. You were too exhausted to limit the noises that you produced for him, so everything came out a loud and blabbering mess. You didn’t ever want to stop being touched this way.

Coriolanus was a clean man. He liked to keep his hair tamed, his jaw void of any developing beard that he felt would deface his appearance. But it had to have been a week since his last shave, you thought. You could feel the faint stubble poking through, grazing your intimate area as he ravished you below. It was the perfect addition to your arousal, adding just enough noise to push you into overstimulation.

You fought the urge to lift your lower half from the sheets, to greedily claim a deeper thrust of his tongue. He wouldn’t take kindly to that, and you didn’t think you had the capacity to endure any more teasing. Instead, you opened your thighs even wider, your hands releasing the comforter to grip at your breasts.

Coriolanus approved of your behaviour, his praise coming in the form of his tongue up your entrance. You let slip a breathy gasp, your jaw clenching at the lightning that seemed to obscure your vision.

“Fuck, Coriolanus,” you drawled, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “Please—let me cum!”

He hummed against your clit, the vibrations serving as the fucking icing on top of this sex-themed cake. You core knotted, your breath catching in your throat. Your eyes screwed shut, the pressure building and building and threatening to spill over as Coriolanus’ tongue picked up the pace. He twirled your clit around, his fingers pinching at your thighs, and just like that, your body released all the tension of the evening.

Your chest bobbed up and down with heavy breathing, not feeling as though you could bear to open your eyes. It’s only when you felt Coriolanus’ warmth withdraw from your thighs that you lifted your head to glance up at him. He straightened up and met your gaze with an impressed look, his perfect lips offering a smile—a genuine smile. The sight set off butterflies in your stomach. He was proud of you and your performance.

“You did well, dove,” he praised.

You beamed at his compliment, words not easily extracted from him. The sheen on his jaw caught your attention, your heart jolting with shame to see him absolutely doused in your juice. It trailed well down his neck and onto his chest, making a point to follow the natural contours of his pecs.

“I’m sorry—“ a hand flew to your mouth, hardly believing that you’d produced a mess of that magnitude.

“Sorry?” Coriolanus mocked, his perfect teeth flashing in a laugh. “Don’t be. It’s a compliment. You show your appreciation like a real woman, just the way I like it.”

You watched as his hands lowered to his red trousers, his fingers moving to undo the button. You glanced back at him in alarm.

“You didn’t think we were done just yet?” He asked, his smile turning wicked as he unzipped his trousers and pulled it down. “I edged you twice,” he explained. “And I’d like to think I’m a fair man. So,” he paused and lowered his underwear, which freed his erection. “I owe you another good time.”

He stepped out from the last of his clothing, towering over your body as he inched his way toward you. “I won’t lie, though,” he murmured once he’d reached your ear. “I’m doing this mostly for me. I think I’ve waited long enough to feel you, really feel you.”

You glanced up at him, your eyes large and pleading like a pathetic mutt begging for scraps. “I don’t think I can take any more, Coriolanus.”

“Did it feel good, what you did just now?”

“It felt like heaven,” you told him softly.

“Then this time will feel like being completely reborn,” Coriolanus insisted, his hand relocating hair from your sticky face. “And even if it doesn’t, you’ll push through because this is your punishment, and punishment is not always meant to be enjoyable.”

You glanced off to the side, hating how much the cold look in his eyes stirred something inside of you.

Coriolanus found satisfaction in the way his words kept you silent. He grabbed your chin and turned you back to him, his thumb pressing into your lower lip before he planted a hollow kiss in its stead. He placed his forearm beside your head, leaning onto that side as his other hand reached down for his cock. He gave a lazy pump across his hard length, a pathetic attempt at spreading his pre-cum. He didn’t need to do any better, not when your drenched cunt offered enough lubrication for him to enter without a struggle.

And it did, without a single hitch, as he pushed himself inside of you. Your soft gasp sounded in his ear, his attention still trained below. Once he was sure he was properly inside of you, he turned his head up and placed his arm on the other side of your head. You felt so warm and welcoming, definitely a lot more relaxed than the previous times he’d stuck his cock inside of you.

He began to thrust, not having much patience to start slow and gradually build up the pressure. This entire evening had been leading up to this moment, the opportunity for him to be in this exact position. He’d spent all of his patience, now he just needed to finish what he’d set out to do. He was pleased to feel your hands snake beneath his arms and take up a hold on his back, that is until your nails suddenly sunk into his skin.

He let out pained moan, his gaze growing fierce at the satisfaction on your face. Two could play that game. He withdrew his length a far way out, his tip almost slipping from your entrance entirely, before he rammed himself back inside with an animalistic thrust. His tip collided with your g-spot, a harsh and sudden greeting to the sensitive area.

You let out a scream, your stomach lifting against him. Before you could process the shock, he rammed into you again, and again, and again. Each time, he returned with the same force, and not once did he fail to miss his target. Your nails in his skin continued to sink deeper, the both of you reduced to nothing more than grunting and gasping.

The bed creaked with every movement, the room echoing with the raw percussion of your skin-on-skin contact. Coriolanus bucked into you with such aggression that he began to moan with every sway of his hips. His hands, trapping your head on either side, slipped behind your head to grip at your hair. He yanked, opening up your neck to him. You moaned as his lips buried against your skin, the tip of his nose flattening into you as his teeth sought out your skin.

His movements became jerky, his teeth gritted as he grunted against your neck. You slipped a hand from his back to bury it into his hair, fastening your fingers around his blond wisps that had turned curly from the sweat of his activity.

“I’m going to cum,” he breathed into your neck, his hand flying to one of your thighs. He pulled it up to wrap around his lower half, his thrusts growing violently needy. “Fuck,” he spat, then called your name desperately. You felt too good, especially now that your walls seemed to clench around him—he knew that you were close, too.

Your second orgasm arrived, the hot wetness pooling around his length. He couldn’t maintain his control anymore. At last, he gave himself over to his pleasure, his movements becoming sluggish as he felt his release inside of you. He didn’t stop his thrusts, not until he felt himself empty every last drop inside of you.

Coriolanus collapsed beside you, his hand finding your cheek and pulling your head against his chest. For many minutes, nobody spoke, each one struggling to regain their breath. His other hand held your lower body against him, keeping his cock secure inside of you. He could feel your mingled juices leaking along his thigh and onto the sheets, a mess he didn’t mind right now.

You burrowed into Coriolanus’ arm, a tired sigh leaving your lips. “Fucking hell,” was all you could manage to say after an ordeal like this. Tonight had been his most brutal fuck thus far.

Your body ached everywhere, and you weren’t sure your swollen clit would ever forgive you for what you’d brought upon it. You supposed it served you right for trying to make him jealous by flirting with another man. You’d never stupidly test his limits that way again, that was for sure. You two laid in comfortable silence, riding out the last of your highs.

“Coriolanus,” you called to him softly, your fingers playing with his. “Do you love me?”

Coriolanus tilted his head down to you, his eyes widening at the sudden question. His lips parted to say something, but he quickly bit on his tongue. It was clear that your need for his attention had grown into something more profound, that you’d started to care about him in more than just what he had to offer your body. He turned his gaze up to the roof. “My position doesn’t permit me the time to love,” he answered carefully.

Your hair shuffled against his arm as you sat yourself up to face him. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He turned his gaze back onto you, calling your name softly. “I have goals to achieve in this world. It leaves little time for relationships.”

Your eyes held disappointment. “Then what’s the point of all of this?”

“The point,” Coriolanus said, taking your hand into his, his thumb rubbing comforting circles across your skin. “Is that we keep each other company, offer a comfort that others couldn’t gift us even if they tried. We satisfy each other in ways that only we know how to.”

“So I’m just a source of entertainment to you?” You snapped, attempting to pull your hand from his, but his grasp on you tightened.

“Am I anything different to you?” He asked, his tone level, his cool eyes challenging. “Don’t mount a high horse, not when you entered this knowing exactly what you were in for. I take care of you and I make you feel good—that’s plenty more than you would’ve gotten back in the district and in any other location in the Capitol, for that matter. Would you rather go back to your district, back to a cold bed and an empty stomach with nobody to rely on? Maybe you’d rather I put you on the market for as some Capitol slut looking for her next sponsor. I can make that happen—“

“No!” You interrupted, your hard eyes thawing with a look of horror, like you’d recalled all the terrible memories of your life in the district. It was far from pleasant, a past you’d have liked to forget for good. You had nobody, nothing to return to.

As for the Capitol, you knew that there were infinite weirdos and perverts that would marvel at the opportunity to get their hands on a hunger games victor, especially one that had been branded by Coriolanus Snow more than once. You could only imagine what sort of prize that made you, a collectible to be displayed. The thought made your stomach turn.

“I don’t want that,” you said, your head lowering in defeat. “I just want you.”

Coriolanus’s eyes raked across your figure, so slumped in submission and hopelessness. He realised then just how much he’d broken you, reshaped you into a lapdog that would only eat directly out of his hand. “Good,” he murmured. “I want you, too. Only you.” His free hand moved to cup your chin, tilting it to face him. “And maybe. . . you could teach me how to love.”

Your eyes widened at those words, the hand clasped in his going stiff. He tugged at you, pulling you into him. Your head found its way nuzzled into the crook of his neck, his chin moving to rest atop your head. He continued to play with your fingers, his other arm cushioning your neck and holding you against him. He felt your breathing slow into an easy sleep, your warm breath flushing against his chest. He closed his own eyes, breathing deeply at the sweet scent radiating from your hair. He allowed it to lull him to sleep, mulling over your interaction.

He’d known the truth for years already—that his heart bore no capacity for love. It had saddened him, at first, made him feel as though he’d been formed wrong in the womb. His father had loved his mother enough to bring him into this world—his cousin, Tigris, had loved him, too, to the point where she’d have sacrificed everything to ensure that he’d survived the war. Sejanus, too, had loved him like a brother, trusted him with all that he was, and it had ultimately killed him.

All his life, Coriolanus had been cradled with love, but he’d been forever cursed with the inability to return it. It had taken him years to accept it, until one day, everything had clicked into place.

Perhaps he wasn’t meant to love, not when the world had become a disastrous mess in need of order, in need of somebody to bring it to that stage. He knew then that he could offer the order that Panem needed. Peace came at the cost of blood, and blood came at the cost of strength. Strength meant that love had no place and no say in the hard decisions to be made, for its love that made you vulnerable, and vulnerability was a weakness. He didn’t bear that weakness, and he never would.

As for you? Well, you were somewhat of a complicated matter as of now. When it came down to it—the decision between you and his destiny, he’d choose destiny without a doubt. But for now, he’d keep you close. He’d shower you with attention, spoil you with his touch, offer you everything you’ve ever wanted in a partner. And once you’ve lost all worth to him, he’d discard of you.

Coriolanus knew that his path was one headed straight for the top, to claim the title of president of Panem. All that he’d done to get here, everything that he’d achieved up until now, it was all just the beginning. He was glad now—that he could not find it in himself to love anyone. It left him free of any liabilities, gave his enemies not even a fraction of power to hurt him.

For it’s the things we love most that destroy us.

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You MUST know I had to include that iconic line

Anyways, I’m sincerely sorry that this fic is like 15k words. I always tell myself to keep it simple but I’ve literally got no say over what happens once my fingers start typing away. I hope you all have enjoyed this read. I’m not TOO sure how I feel about it, but I think I’ve just gotten to the point where I’ve proof-read it so much that I honestly can’t stand it anymore.

This is my first every coryo fic and it was incredibly daunting to write, considering that he is such a complex character to portray and because I unintentionally resorted to flowing between his and the reader’s perspective, which I usually hate, but shit happens. I’ve never read the books (I am getting them for my birthday yay) so it was difficult to get inside of his mind given that I’ve never trod there before. In any case, I hope that I did his character justice in this blabbering mess, even if I did add my own sadistic twist lmao.

MERRY CHRISTMAS MY LOVELIES🎄

Your comments & reblogs are always appreciated. Thank you!! ~

I take requests (so long as I’m comfortable writing it) <3

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[cutieeva]

Worth of a terror

Female reader

Warnings : Murder. Deaths. Attempt of sexual assaults.

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒

Married to the man one loves is magical even fairytale however if the man turns out to be a obsessed King is it really alright ? Or it is because there's much more truth in it.

Words spread ear to ear to nation to another nations of how in the country of Imperia the ruler is obsessed with his wife, the most wisest woman to be known (Y/N).

It is said that at the first sight princess (Y/N) of neighboring kingdom of Tharagon saw the soon to be King one day and fell fast and hard. Deciding he will be the one to hold her hand and lift her white veil of marriage so she begged her father who succumbed to his daughter's wishes arranged an meeting between the pair, a pair brought by the deities themselves because the moment the prince saw once glimpse of her visages cerulean pupils transform into heart and boldly bowed his knee to have her hand for eternal, soon the vows of love were exchange as well as the bloodshed didn't remain in the battlefield rather inside the walls of royalty too after the love climb into of akin madness, obsession and desire because the prince wore the crown and sat at the throne of his country ruled with benevolent smile yet iron fist for those who glance little to his wife. The fairytale love story commoners love begin to sour a lesson of the reasons why not to marry elites.

The new maid of the castle heard the passing whispers, tales and rumors time to time, none escaped her even when in front it's spoken loudly at all times the moment the royals are out sight by blue ribbon maids yet she notice one bit of how no golden ribbon maids gossip at all rather their lips are seal with sectary oh— golden maid are known for the private maids who serve the royals directly and handle their schedule and the reason of their name is for the noticeable difference between the hair bow color, the colors are important in the castle to identify one's position and the golden are the supreme and the new maids are the whites— oddly to define their purity and naïvity too, one older female maid with blue ribbon commented. Blue applys for the upper level after blooming their training.

In passing few times of sewing clothes and watering gardens did she caught glances of the wise queen she come to admire even respect deeply after an occurrence she would to this day have shivers in her spine. At dinner she was hosted to be one of the many maids to serve the royalty and when she went to gracefully fill the red wine like blood to the queen's glass god forbid again her weight on her hand slipped pouring few drops on the luxurious white dress. Paled her face was and fast her heart with darting eyes to the furious king who stood from his seat, marching to his wife with burning her though his glare to (Y/N) who rather of getting mad, yelling harshly and posing punishment worse, a laugh fell out of her rudy hue lips.

"Fear not. We are all prone to error, and from those mistakes, we shall glean valuable wisdom. Be at peace". Smiling ear to ear, her fingers touch the maid's white ribbon and gifted another comforting pat before wrapping a hand around her dear husband. Calming the beast that threat to spill out the maid could see and tremble her heart out.

"Compose yourself, my dear husband. Do not let your passions get the better of you, lest you succumb to apoplexy. She is but a mere child, prone to errors and innocent of malice." Wittly (Y/N) spin her wrist around for the servant to whisk away and she did excusing the pair where from the closed doors she could hear the muffled passionate kisses. Tips of ear burned when body flinched meeting the royal knight's gaze who stood blending in the shadows, he is known to be the queen's shining armor and the man the King failed to assassinate multiple times due to his skill experience and queen's help. The reason behind murdering the man is of jealous of course, no man alive should be closer to her heart then the king himself. What a hassel the maid believes running out ever grateful for the madam's kindness.

That at any command or meeting upon sights of queen never does she forget to get on both knees for the kind woman deserve all respect and it only increase when she was appointed from white ribbon to blue— one step closer to see more of her elder sister figure, every dress the queen wore becomes the maid's favorite too, never forgets to sing songs of praises with other blue ribbon maids who too tune to her child like nature unlike the golden ones whom seems to be as tight lips she recalls. Never forgets to mask a smell of expression nor word like perfect dolls they work with sealed lips.

Also there is another person who comes to see the queen more is the ruler and as the rumors believes he is a very much touchful person, never his hands left her body whether in public or behind closed doors as he boldly even kisses her startling the poor maid's heart yet a beyond level of understanding is come from her when each time the queen smile into the kiss and any touch and attention, never shy away however also not returning the same enthusiasm making pity stem in the maid's heart seeing the queen being a beauty to the beast for him to be a proper prince in this case the king.

"The royal family of neighboring kingdom is coming to Imperia nation". Is a pure chaos, the notice was late and the servants were barely able to match the rhythm of orders properly unlike each time. The dinner, the decoration everything expected to be perfect. Not a single mishap panicking the attendants even more.

Thankfully it was arrange hasty and beautifully. "Perfect". The queen utter, her chest swell in pride when her husband entered with all the servants bowing with their eyes on the floor. His arms find on her body along lips on her bare skin of side nape.

"Perfect indeed". His eyes half lidded, only for his utter heavenly wife.

"Not me, my dearest. The castle". Mellow chuckle escape her lips. Meeting his eyes.

"Still the most beautiful I can see is you". Truly (Y/N) sometimes believes her love of life could had been better off as an poet than an king. As a hopeless romantic is sweet it's quite endangering she is afraid.

"Thank you, love". Gratitude fill her heart with butterflies in her stomach. Staring right at the infuriating reflection of herself in his eyes just like the first time is nostalgic.

"Your Majesties, the carriages are few feets away". The royal adviser reminded the pair and intruded their session.

"Indeed I know". Frown brows cast his face, marred with annoyance the queen finds endearing. Her finger pads gently ease the wrinkled skin and brows even pressing as gentle as feather a kiss. Stealing his breath and heart altogether.

"It's alright, love. Better for the kingdom". Smile wide so much it crinkles her corners of eyes. "The more the merrier isn't it ?" She jested pulling a smile out of the stoic man, feared even.

"However, my queen, you are well aware that the neighboring kingdom is not particularly indispensable to our affairs?" King Vincent uttered, caressing strands of her hair.

"I do". Press a hand on his shoulder she left to prepare for their welcoming and it was easy would be a blunt lie by the palpable tension is visible to any naked eye.

The neighboring king is not what a proper nobleman should be behaving more like a scoundrel with Queen (Y/N), kissing her hand more than needed, staring more than appropriate and not shy away to brush touches and the servants quiver from the dreadful consequences of such actions because each could see the twitch in the king's eyes and the beast hidden too well inside those smile.

And the tension only stretched more at the supper when the daughter of the neighboring king urged to be sit next to King Vincent wantonly seduce the married man by brushing skins and serving dishes. Such a wretched and filthy woman the maid curse freely in her mind. How dare his daughter without blinking an eye snatch the husband of the woman her father is so desperately steal virtue of ? Such women are shame to be grown out from mother's womb the maid thought, glancing in awe how no hint of outbust is seen from (Y/N), she even tender with the maiden she doesn't deserve to get all while handling the aged man's greedy hands.

Truly a woman worth to love and respect and the maid is out of words to describe. Gratefully the supper came to an end and the pair of King and his daughter went to spend their night in their castle for tomorrow's farewell.

The moon hanged exquisitely among the stars covet by the darkness the maid stare from her window when a sudden thirst come to her. Sitting up in her bed her fingers went to the jar only to feel lighter—empty she realize. Groaning she held a lamplight in one hand and went to wonder for the kitchen, her steps precise and careful to reach the lengthy walls to the kitchen and at last drench the thrist she wake from her slumber.

Chop ! Her nerves freeze. Chop ! Blood drain from her veins. CHOP ! Shudder her body to the core. The sounds are clearly of slicing something— or someone. Despite the warnings in her brain advising to ran away her feet drag her to the creator of the noises, solely relying on the noises her eyes blind in darkness went near the open door with golden light peeking though. Prying eyes meet sorrow's sight. A saying she knows yet not heed.

Chop ! Her eyes flinch close before opening to peek and met a sight that shatter her entire faith, beliefs and trust.

Chop ! Because in front is the body of neighboring princess laying on the ground, her widen eyes stare directly to the maid's that lost the life in it, blood bled endlessly like spilled juices out from her cut— chopped parts. The sliver sword soaked in crimson color and smell drip little by little held by the culprit of her murder. Queen (Y/N) herself, the same woman who utters gentle words, sweet voice, pretty smiles. A beauty to her husband chop and dice and slice the parts of the woman like an carcass of pig. Droplets of blood scattered across her face, dress and hand.

Near is the neighboring king's body only sliced throat once. (Y/N) bore special hatred for the daughter to still torture her.

Footsteps towards the otherside sucked the maid's pulse, still her eyes watched as the owner revealed to be none other than King Vincent. A helpless sigh and defeated look carved out of him. "(Y/N), my losana what have you done this time ?"

"Oh, my love, I fear you are correct regarding their unnecessary pursuit of power to foster our nation's growth. Alas, I have taken drastic measures and eradicated the impurities." A feverish blush paint her majesty's face as she gaze at her husband. Grinning like a mischief goddess.

And without sparing glance her sword stab the daughter's detached head to stick before walking to Vincent. "You know I love you ? Hence I had to do this. She was a whore who should not live". Slight shiver hands cup his chin, connecting their foreheads. "You know you are mine and mine only ?"

"Indeed I do". Feebly lift his lips to smile and lean more. What could he do, she is a woman who loves fast and hard.

Suddenly her (E/C) eyes slide to the maid's direction who buried her head behind the wall with palm tight clasped on her lips even forbid breathing in fear of getting caught. Her chest up and fell and pupils changing. Because missed dots came connecting all round.

The real obsessed one was nd is not the king. It was the queen (Y/N) all along.

The missing and murders people were her fault, the queen kill them in rush of envy and jealous of rivalry. The rumors were reversed and the reason the golden ribbon servants seal their lips because they had been the ones cleaning the mess of her majesty, they were unspoken witness to the madness of her obsession not his.

She was always jealous thus the murder was commented. She was simply good at hiding, behind that naïve smile. Same one the maid was bestowed. No wonder the king is tamed.

Quickly hers feets disspeared to the darkness to her quarter to not be discovered and be beheaded or worse fate.

The next rise of sun came faster than she wanted and she had to do her duty with empty mind is difficult with too many mistakes. When she notice the lines of servants behind the queen is appearing. The images invaded her thoughts again, gripping her in fear. Her knees bowed on her own.

The smell of lavender suffocated her and the sight of the queen's grown came to view. She could feel her leaning closer, closer and closer until her lips were near her ear. "Remember to have water on your jar before the bed". She knows. She knows. She knows.

With that her heels turn to see her husband. A husband who should have been a poet not a leader as he was not a man of bloodshed. How twist of fate.

A strangled grasp left the maid's lips meeting the back of the queen and her close knight. She is truly a worth of a terror.

FIN

Notice : ⌜ I will soon focus and complete the lost series ⌟

[amaliasnap]

I wrote this in early 2020. It turned out that ability to be critical of information was helpful in the long term, and those ppl were already gonna have problems during the pandemic.

"This is going to sound so much more melodramatic than it actually is but I dont have a better way to phrase it. Language be like that:

In my late 30s I came to suspect that my political/philosophical worldview is functioning as a cognito hazard in my former students and as of now I am sitting back and monitoring them as best as I am able to see if they recover. It is merely because of a central epistemological nihilism combined with light statistical analysis but as of now I have more evidence that it is harmful than it is helpful. Consequently I've been circumspect in my discussion of it in recent time. They are already spreading it to their peers. So I am in search for something that will logically refute it and alleviate them of this or for evidence that they can"

(I wrote this to myself, but for anyone looking, epistemological nihilism refers to the fact that truth and knowledge are unverifiable)

[brainscrems]

Making a little pinned post for goyim who stumble across this blog. Nothing in your background, none of your experiences with marginalization, nothing at all makes you exempt from having internalized antisemitism. The best thing you can do is seek out a wide range of all jewish voices with no preconceived notions, hear how different things affect their lives and oppression, and take that into account about what you say and do. Next thing to address. Antisemitism from the left DOES exist and it IS in your movements for palestinian liberation, as ugly a truth as that is. I support a free palestine and an end to genocide. So, when I showed up to my first protest and saw a displayed swastika with hundreds of people around, I was extremely dismayed that not a single one was willing to stand up and say a goddamned thing. This is the state of antisemitism on the left. Most people won’t *openly* spout hateful rhetoric, tho those who will are quite loud. The real problem is that there is no collective willingness to go after the open antisemites in these movements. It’s deemed acceptable because it’s for a good cause. And let me tell you, this shit is quite typical and we jews see it constantly. Just because you aren’t seeing antisemitism doesn’t mean it’s not there. Of course you aren’t seeing it. You’re not jewish. You don’t have the background to notice shit that you’ve been taught is normal and fine. Yet, your silence in the face of these things or even your engagement in them still hurts us. And. You know what they say. If nazi joins 4 people at a table and they do nothing about it you have 5 nazis. So. What can you do? Seek out jewish voices and LEARN!! Don’t tokenize us. Don’t choose ones you already agree with. The first resource I recommend for dealing w antisemitism in leftist spaces is called “The Past Didn’t Go Anywhere” by April Rosenblum. This is a jew with a long history of palestinian advocacy and she has done a great job at breaking down where antisemitism happens. Link at the bottom. It was written in 2007 and remains depressingly relevant today. This pamphlet is 24 pages, a bit long, but very thorough. This pamphlet is the barebones details of what’s antisemitic btw. The things listed in there are basic “nearly every jew in the world” would agree things. There is more than just what is contained in there that’s antisemitic and your best resource is gonna be listening to jewish voices. No tokenizing. No dismissing. Just listening and seeing what makes sense. That said, this shit is essential reading because it gives you the tools to start making spaces safe for jews. If you don’t care about that then, well, you probably don’t belong on this blog.

EDIT: In an ideal world I would like a binational one-state solution with a right of return for jews and palestinians as well as massive reparations for palestinians. I don’t identify as a zionist. And. I know jews who identify as zionists who want the exact same things I do. If your rhetoric is calling for violence against those people you can fuck right off. Zionist is a jewish word that has been appropriated by goyim, both by christian “zionists” as well as those who wish to discredit jews wanting to live peacefully with palestinians in our shared homeland. It means whatever the jew using it says it does in the context of their speech. The people who support the ethnic cleansing and genocide of palestinians or the treatment of palestinians as second class citizens are called kahanists and racist assholes, not zionists. Stop misusing our fucking word. Learn what the word means from actual members of our community instead of shouting about it as a fucking outsider and appropriating a term with deep community roots. Yea, Israel has committed so many war crimes and is currently committing genocide. This is not what zionism represents to most zionists so if you’re pushing that narrative just fucking do better and stop putting jewish lives at risk with your irresponsible rhetoric. I once again redirect you to the linked pamphlet. This is not a heavily focused on topic in it, but it gives clear instructions on what not to do, even if it doesn’t give you all the details on the why.

[deliciousangelfestival]

Nothing Has Changed - 14

Summary: Returning home for peace, you're faced with your tormentor, Bucky Barnes, who is now involved in your family's business.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Warning: Angst, Tragedy.

Author Note: So... I wrote the story outline until the ending. I didn't expect the story to turn dark. Prepare yourself.

Nothing Has Changed - Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 💖💖💖

You knew that Steve and Bucky weren't as close as they used to be, but seeing it up close felt even more awkward. Bucky, on the other hand, didn't seem stressed despite his mother being sent to jail.

As you watched Bucky load your groceries into your car, you asked, “I don't feel any bromance between you and Steve anymore.”

Bucky shrugged, not missing a beat as he placed another bag in the trunk. “Well… I won’t deny it. Ever since we all went our separate ways, while Steve stayed, everything just became different.”

“I did offer him a job at the resorts, but he declined.” His voice held a note of regret. “It’s sad that we’re not close anymore.”

You watched him for a moment, feeling a pang of something you couldn't quite identify. You never had someone who used to be close to you turn into a stranger. The closest person you had was Ransom. He betrayed you once but still kept in contact. Then there was Harlan, the only older person who was like a grandfather figure to you. But he's gone now.

“You're a good friend,” you said softly.

Bucky’s eyes widened in surprise. “Did… Did you just give me a compliment?”

“No.” You quickly got into your car, hoping to hide the faint smile on your face.

He chuckled and hummed, “Yes, you did.”

As you closed the car door, he knocked on the window. You rolled it down a little. “What?”

“I know I'm asking a lot, but could you help out at the resort again?” Bucky’s voice was earnest, almost pleading.

You raised an eyebrow. The idea of going back to the place that kicked you out felt just as wrong as when you got fired from Drysdale. Memories of the humiliation and hurt still stung.

Bucky seemed to sense your hesitation. “I will make sure the environment is different this time.”

That got your attention. “How?”

“You'll see it tomorrow.” He smirked a hint of mischief in his eyes, and then turned to leave. You watched him walk away, a mix of curiosity and skepticism swirling in your mind.

🏨🏨🏨🏨🏨

The next morning, you woke up with uncertain feelings. Should you go back? But you decided to give it a try.

When you parked your car, you saw someone walking out the door carrying a box. It was Natasha.

You got out of the car and walked past her. Natasha glared at you, spitting out, “Bitch. Are you happy?”

You stopped and turned to face her, feeling a newfound confidence. “What did I do that made Bucky fire you? Tell me. All the evidence points to Lydia.”

Natasha flinched, taken aback by your directness. The old you would have been too afraid to talk back to her.

In truth, only Bucky knew the real reason she was fired. She had been receiving hush money from Lydia. The first time she caught Lydia red-handed, stealing money from the vault and stuffing it into her designer bag, she was paid off to keep quiet.

Her front desk salary couldn't buy her designer bags and shoes with cash. The money from Lydia was the reason she could afford them. But no matter what she had, it was nothing compared to what you possessed.

“Tsk.” She clicked her tongue and walked away.

You sighed. She hadn't changed. She always lashed out at you.

“Did she bother you?” Bucky's voice broke through your thoughts.

“No. She just blamed me,” you replied, shaking your head.

“I'm sorry,” he said, looking genuinely apologetic.

“I'm used to it. She hasn't changed at all,” then turned and walked into the building.

You started working again. You felt more relaxed, perhaps because Lydia and Natasha were no longer there to cast their shadows.

‘Knock, knock.’

You lifted your head and saw Jake standing at the door.

“You're back,” he said, stepping inside.

“Yeah,” you replied, continuing your work.

He took a seat in front of you. “Me and the other employees are grateful to you.”

“Why?” you asked, looking up.

“Because those women are gone,” Jake said.

Your pen stopped moving. “Was it that bad?”

Jake shrugged his shoulders. “Well, we kinda knew. But we couldn't do anything. Especially me. This place was the only one that gave me a job after what happened.”

You leaned forward, curious. “Can I ask what happened to you? Someone as smart as you making a mistake like that doesn’t seem right.”

He sighed, leaning back in his chair. “People won’t believe me when I tell them, but I guess you could understand it.”

“Me?” You raised an eyebrow.

He nodded. “Just like you, I was framed for something I didn’t do.”

Before Jake came back, he had a good job at an IT security company. But he was blinded by money when he got an offer to make a gambling website.

“Wait… what about the rumor you hacked the Department of Defense’s security?” you asked, intrigued.

Jake leaned in, lowering his voice. “That’s… well, off the record. I can’t tell you about that. But it wasn’t the reason I got arrested.”

The reason he got arrested was someone tipped off the authorities that he was the person who made the illegal gambling website. Jake did, but he was also accused of receiving $30 million from money laundering that was used on the site.

“Wow,” you said, shaking your head. “Do you know who asked you?”

He shrugged his shoulders, scratching his head. “It's my own fault too. I got the request from the dark web. It was difficult to prove to the judge, and I didn’t have the money to pay for a good lawyer.”

“How did you get released?” you asked, still in disbelief.

“I got a plea deal. I knew some secrets. Do you want to know?” Jake winked at you.

You scoffed, “No thank you,” and went back to work.

Jake chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “But seriously, thanks for what you did here. It means a lot to all of us.”

You nodded, acknowledging his gratitude, but focused on your work.

🏠🏠🏠🏠🏠

You went back home, only to see the last person you wanted to see walking out of your house—the mayor.

You stayed in your car until he left, then got out and headed inside.

When you entered the house, you saw Tom sitting on a chair with his head resting on his hand. He looked stressed and pale.

You rushed to him and touched his shoulder. “Father?”

Tom flinched, then looked up at your face. He patted your arm. “Y/N.”

“Yes?” you asked, your voice filled with concern.

“Could you stop whatever you're doing right now?” he said, his voice trembling.

Seeing how stressed and scared your father was, you knew it could only mean one thing—the mayor had given him a warning.

“Did he threaten you?” you asked, your eyes searching his face.

Tom shook his head. “No, he just gave me some advice. Lydia has all the connections. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Bullshit. It wasn’t advice. It was clear that Lydia and the mayor were partners in crime.

“I'll listen to you,” you said, patting his shoulder reassuringly.

Tom sighed in relief and nodded, glad you didn’t object. “I'm going to make some tea. Do you want some?”

Before you could answer, your phone vibrated. It was Steve. “I’m going to take this,” you said, stepping away.

You moved to another room. “Hey.”

Steve’s voice came through the line. “Are you busy right now?”

“No. What’s up?”

“I just wanted to tell you that I’ve arrived at the art gallery,” Steve said.

“That’s great!” you replied, a smile spreading across your face.

“Y/N?” he continued, sounding a bit uncertain.

“Hmm?” you prompted.

“I feel so small surrounded by these skyscrapers,” he admitted.

You remembered feeling the same way when you first arrived in the city.

“But it gives big opportunities,” Steve added, a note of hope in his voice.

You smiled, feeling a bit lighter. At least there was some good news. “Stay optimistic like that, and you’ll get it, Steve.”

🏠🏠🏠🏠🏠

In a big house, a woman lay on the couch, casually flipping through a magazine. An ankle bracelet adorned her right ankle—it was Lydia.

Bucky came home and walked into the living room, his footsteps echoing in the spacious room.

The moment she saw him, her expression twisted with anger. She hurled the magazine toward him, but he caught it effortlessly.

“You're just like him,” she spat, her voice dripping with bitterness.

@starsofcloud

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Author Note: Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.

Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

[dira333]

Hi! Can you do Soulmate au with Tsukishima?

For sure! Warning, this one has a bittersweet ending. Soulmate Trope: Their last words to you are written on your skin.

“Don’t get lost, love.” - Tsukishima

"Don't get lost, love."

Those words, written on your skin, hold a deeper truth to them.

They will identify your soulmate, yes, but only by their last words spoken to you.

-

“What are yours?” You ask Kei one month into dating him, expecting him to answer just like everyone else before.

But he doesn’t, refusing to tell you.

“You don’t believe I’m your soulmate?” You ask, a little wounded. You’d been almost sure he could be the one, with his dry humor and the snarky way he cares for you.

“Did I say that?” He asks back, flicking your temple. “I just don’t want anyone to know.”

“No one knows?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “I don’t go out of my way to hide them, they’re right in the hollow of my left knee, but why would I tell you? So that you can obsess over if it sounds like you?”

“I wouldn’t have done that.”

“Sure you wouldn’t.”

“So you don’t want to know what mine are?”

“Already know,” he says. “With the way you’re waving your arms around at my sight it was bound to happen.”

“Excuse me? I’m happy to see you!”

He grins and leans in to silence you with a kiss, effectively dropping the topic.

-

“We’re out of strawberry jam, love,” Kei calls out from the kitchen as you pull on your shoes. “Can you bring that too?”

“Sure,” you tell him, half a mind wondering when he’d adopted that name for you. Usually, it’s stinker or bug or a rare kitten if he feels feisty. “Love you.”

“Don’t get lost,” he calls after you and you freeze on the doorstep, turning around.

“What did you just say?” You ask, heart beating in your throat. 

“What? Are your ears blocked? I said don’t get lost, love.”

“No, no, no, no!” You turn back around, running into the kitchen to hug him. “Don’t say that. Please, don’t ever say that.”

Kei, frozen for a moment, pulls you in when he realizes.

“Sorry,” he mumbles against the top of your head. “Spilled out of me like that. Didn’t think about it.”

Hearing him say something else calms you down.

“Don’t you ever say that again,” you beg him, reluctant to leave.

“Go get me my jam,” he tells you instead, kissing you so sweet and tenderly you could almost believe he’s no longer the Kei you know. “I’ll be here when you return. Hopefully with a clean bathroom unless you want to switch jobs.”

-

“Any last words?” Kei asks, squeezing your hand. 

He looks awfully pale in the bright lights of the hospital and you’ve got half a mind to call for Tadashi to look after him.

“I hope the little one looks like you,” you tell him and watch him go almost cross-eyed with faux anger. 

“Please no,” he begs, the last you hear of him before you’re pushed into surgery.

You emerge to a numbness in your limbs and a disgusting taste on your tongue, to the sound of quiet whispers and a comforting hand on your knee.

“Kei?” You ask, blinking against the light.

“We’re both here, Mumma,” he tells you and then there they are, perfect in every way.

“You been worried?” You ask later when the little one sleeps soundly on your chest.

“Yeah,” he admits in the silence of the room. “What if I never saw you again?”

Your brain’s still a bit slow but you still realize, pull him close to kiss the fear from his lips. 

“You think I’m your soulmate?” You ask, unable to keep from wanting reassurance.

“You have to ask?” Kei quips back, resting his hand on the little one’s back. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think that.”

You watch him, the silent admiration on his face as he takes it in, this young life that you both created, a living, breathing symbol of your love.

“You’ve been thinking about something,” you point out and he nods.

“I wanna keep saying it,” he admits, quietly, as if afraid of what those words will turn into if spoken too loud. “Not because I need to prove something, but because I like how they sound and I… I want to take away the fear.”

“You wanna be surprised?”

“Don’t you?” He asks, his eyes more open and vulnerable than you’ve ever seen.

“Do you want to hear them one day and feel all life drain out of you, waiting for the moment you realize it’s the truth?”

You’ve never thought about it like that.

“I love you,” you tell him, earnestly, from the bottom of your heart. “You can say whatever you want.”

“Don’t get lost, love.”

-

“Don’t get lost, love,” Kei calls from the kitchen as you usher the kids outside. Their dentist appointment is in half an hour and you’re already late.

“Love you,” you call back, no time for a kiss goodbye. 

“Love you, Dad,” the chorus rings out around you and he laughs, calling after them too, his words cut off by the door falling shut.

“We need to get out earlier next time,” you tell them in the car as you pull out of the driveway. “Dad doesn’t like when we leave without a kiss goodbye.”

And though they promise to be better about it, you can’t help but know it won’t be that easy.

“Mom, there’s something black on my hand,” your daughter calls out, holding it up.

“We’ll check it out later with Dad. It’s probably your Soulmark coming in.”

“I want one too!” Your son declares, always eager to prove himself. “When do I get mine?”

“Soon,” you tell him, hoping it will end the discussion. It doesn’t.

Soon is never soon enough for the kids but always too soon for the adults.

-

“Don’t get lost, love,” Kei tells you in the evening, kissing your temple as he slips under the covers.

It’s his way of saying goodnight now, your wrinkled hands joining under the covers.

“I love you,” you tell him, thinking of the soft spot in the hollow of his knee, of the three words written there you tell him every day.

He smiles and sighs and pulls you close, not yet knowing that he won’t wake up tomorrow.

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