#i KNOW im coming in late and need to get moving faster in the mornings

[redeemed-wren]

Got pulled up by my operations lead first thing this morning for walking in three (3) minutes late.

[mononijikayu]

505 — gojo satoru.

At 5:05 a.m. in this beautiful mourning morning, Gojo Satoru finds himself standing outside your apartment door. Well, at least he remembers that it was 505A. The last time he was here, it was too dark to read the sign. He stares at the numbers for a long time, bleary-eyed and uncertain. Maybe it's the lack of sleep, maybe it's the weight of everything he never said, but they don’t quite look real. Just metal digits screwed into a door that feels both painfully familiar and impossibly distant. The hallway is quiet. The kind of silence that feels sacred, like the world is holding its breath. He’s not sure what he expected from you after all this time. But he has thought about it on the way here. Maybe he needed some kind of clarity, maybe. Or perhaps some sort of jolt, that was full of certainty. 

GENRE: alternate universe - canon divergence

WARNING/S: afab! reader, use of she/her pronouns, smut, post-hidden inventory arc, post-break up, romance, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, long-term on and off relationship, profanity, loneliness, emotional distress, emotional trauma, resentment, confessions, toxic relationship, love, hate, longing, pining, emotional, bittersweet, reunion, introspection, sex as emotional release, depiction of sexual acts and scenes, depiction of nudity, depiction of toxic relationship, depiction of emotional distress, depiction of emotional trauma, sorcerer! gojo satoru, former sorcerer! reader;

WORD COUNT: 8k words

NOTE: i know the kayu's playlist usually gets to be the update but ive been so busy lately that i genuinely just have no time to do the fics in order that i want to. but im slowly getting them done, don't worry, you guys!!! thank you for waiting!!! i love you all <3

masterlist

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kayu's playlist — side 3000;

HE WAS SO EXHAUSTED FROM ALL OF THIS. Gojo Satoru could feel the shrill of his back against the leather of his car seat. He’s been moving too much lately, perhaps even more than usual.

Everything was easy for him, of course. Yet he was still human at the end of the day. Not everything could be healed. That's just how it was at the end of the day. He had to deal with it somehow.

Gojo Satoru has a license. He's had one for years. He also has a car. It was a good one. It was sleek, obnoxiously fast, like everything else in his life. Yet he didn’t need them. He just has them at his disposal.

These were little things they didn’t know about him. Things he didn't want them to know about him. But he hardly cared for that and he thinks to himself, no one could care all about it. That was normal, right?

Satoru rarely finds himself behind the wheel for more than a few minutes at a time. He had no time for that, if he was being honest.  And that’s not his job anyway. Even without it, he could just take a Shinkansen. 

But a ten-hour drive done by him, by his own whim. It was practically unheard of. He doesn’t do road trips. He barely has time for sleep, let alone long stretches of highway and playlists and gas station coffee.

He’s always been too busy for that. There’s far too many missions, too many students that need him, too many responsibilities on shoulders that carry the weight of the world. Driving for the sake of driving just isn’t his thing. He has better, faster ways to get where he needs to go.

And yet, here he is.

Ten hours, give or take. It's a ridiculous decision, by all accounts. He wouldn’t do something like this. Not for a vacation. Not for a friend. Hell, not even to go save the world again. He’d teleport, fly, bend space before ever touching the brake pedal on some remote country road.

But when it comes to you?

That's a different thing altogether.

He likes to do everything for you the hard way.

It started small, back then. A forty-five minute drive to your apartment just outside Jujutsu High when you were younger. It didn’t seem like much at the time. Just enough distance to make it feel like an effort, like a choice. Then came the seven-hour flight. All of that crossing borders, crossing oceans just to see you for a weekend that felt like seconds.

And now, it’s this. This stupidly devoted ten-hour drive. No cursed spirits, no mission orders, no duty. Just him, the open road, and the need to see you. After all this time. And somehow, it’s worth it.

It’s you. It was always going to be worth it.

He doesn’t even remember when the distance stopped being a hassle and started feeling like a promise, like proof of something. That no matter how far you were, he’d find a way to reach you. That no amount of space could stretch his feelings thin. 

Maybe that’s why he didn’t take the usual shortcuts this time. No warping space, no flashy entrances. Just the slow, deliberate pace of a man who wants every mile to mean something. The road hums under his tires, the kind of white noise that lets his thoughts get louder.

He wonders what you'll say when you see him. If you’ll laugh, call him crazy. If you’ll pretend you’re not surprised, even though he knows you will be. Or maybe, just maybe, you’ve been waiting, like he has. Quietly. Stubbornly. Holding out hope in the stillness of days that feel too long and nights that echo too much.

There’s something sacred about driving this far. Something uncharacteristically human about it. He’s used to existing above the ordinary, untouchable and untethered. But this? This makes him feel real. Every sore muscle, every roadside diner, every hour crawling by—it grounds him. It reminds him he’s still allowed to want things. Not just to protect, or to fight for, but to have.

And he wants you, more than anything in him. Not in the abstract  sort of way. Not in the maybe-someday sense. He was sure it was in the tangible, aching, you’re-right-there-and-I’m-holding-you kind of way. He always has. And perhaps he always will.

The sun’s setting by the time the city creeps into view, its lights blooming on the horizon like a sigh of relief. His long fingers tighten on the steering wheel all together. He takes a breath for a moment. He’s almost there.

Ten hours is nothing, really. Not when it’s for you. Not when it means he finally gets to see you again. Not as a memory, not as a voice on the phone but as fully human, fully you. In the doorway, or waiting on the porch, or maybe still inside, not even knowing he’s just minutes away.

He doesn’t know what’s going to happen when you see him. He hasn’t seen you in two years, after all. You’ve moved yourself from the urban cities and into the far flung countryside, unwilling to be perceived or known to the people you once knew to be the closest to your heart. Including him.

You left Jujutsu Society quietly. No press release, no goodbye drinks. You packed your things in the middle of the night and vanished before the sun could rise. A shadow slipping out the side door.

You couldn’t take it anymore.

Not after Suguru.

Not after Nanami.

Not after Haibara.

Each loss had carved something out of you, something essential. You told yourself you could bear it, that you were built for this. But Suguru's defection had broken your faith. Nanami’s quiet departure shattered your sense of order. And Haibara… he was the one that cracked your heart clean in two.

You stayed after that, longer than you should have. Longer than your sanity could have ever allowed. You stayed for him, he knew that. You stayed until grief started living in your bones and sleep became a luxury you couldn't afford. What finally broke you wasn’t death. It was Gojo Satoru.

“You’re still her.” he had said one night, finding you on the steps outside the dorms, half a cigarette burning between your fingers. His voice was low, almost surprised. “Thought you would’ve left by now.”

You didn’t look at him. “I wanted to.”

“So why didn’t you?”

You didn’t answer. Maybe because the real answer was sitting next to you, all cold shoulder and infinity, and you couldn’t say you back to him. You just couldn’t. It was a different thing that he knew it, but it was even more different when you said it out loud. That was going to be worse. 

In the absence of words, there is the ability to ignore, to pretend that the world you lived in was the same. But when you say it, you wouldn’t be able to pretend. He wouldn’t be able to let it pass as it was, not when he needed you. 

Goojo Satoru knew it all too well, reading behind the lines. He started to see how that was killing you Killing you in it with Suguru. But he took your word for it. And now, he couldn’t handle it, seeing it unfold. Not again. Especially not with you. He sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. 

“Everyone leaves eventually, you know that right?” he muttered to no one in particular. “I’m getting used to it.”

That was the thing. You didn’t want to become another name on that list. To be another loss of his life. But loving him was exhausting, staying here is making you feel like death was the better option.

It was a war between what you needed and what he couldn’t give. He was always halfway in, always too much and never enough. And still, a part of you ached for him. That was the part you hated most.

You remembered your voice, brittle like glass that night. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

He had glanced at you sideways, something unreadable in his eyes. “You mean the work?”

You shook your head slowly. “I mean all of it.”

His silence then was the loudest thing you’d ever heard. It settled between you like a storm cloud, heavy and electric, thick with all the words he wasn’t saying. Maybe he should’ve said something else. Maybe he should’ve tried.

Something to anchor you.

Something to pull you back in.

Something—anything—that sounded like stay.

But Gojo Satoru has never been good with the words that matter most. He’s good with bravado, with jokes, with control. But not this. Not you, broken and unraveling before him. Because he was selfish. God, he was so selfish.He wanted you.

He wanted all of you, even the pieces you’d lost. Even the parts of you buried under grief and exhaustion and anger. He wanted to hold onto you, to keep you by his side like he always had. As if loving him could be enough to carry the weight of everything else.

And yet, he loved you too much, too. Too much to chain you to a life that was slowly killing you. Too much to pretend he didn’t see the way you were disappearing before his very eyes. Too much to be the reason you stayed, when staying meant dying in degrees.

He told himself that. That he was letting you go out of love, not fear. That he wasn’t just watching you leave because he didn’t know how to ask you to stay. So he said the worst thing he could think of.

“Why don’t we break up then?” he said, finally. His voice was too steady, too quiet. A man ripping his own heart out with surgical precision.

“Satoru—”

“You’d be free of me.” he added all too quickly, not giving you a chance to say anything. “Free of all of this.”

You didn’t answer. Not right away. You couldn’t. You just stared at him like he’d slapped you. Maybe he had. Because you hadn’t said the words. You had only said you couldn’t do this anymore. You had only needed something from him. A reason. A promise. A fight. But all he gave you was an exit.

You nodded, eventually. What else could you do? The moment fractured something in both of you. You got up from those dorm steps and walked away. Not just from him but from the world you once fought so hard to protect.

He let you go. And he told himself it was for your sake. Even if it shattered him. And so you left. Not because you stopped caring but because you cared too much. Because you couldn’t breathe in that place anymore. 

Because every hallway was a grave to you now, a grave with wailing ghosts you can never dispel. Because looking at him, just looking at him, felt like pressing your hands against an open wound and pretending it didn’t hurt.

At 5:05 a.m., this beautiful mourning morning, Gojo Satoru finds himself standing outside your apartment door. Well, at least he remembers that it was 505A. The last time he was here, it was too dark to read the sign.

He stares at the numbers for a long time, bleary-eyed and uncertain. Maybe it's the lack of sleep, maybe it's the weight of everything he never said, but they don’t quite look real. Just metal digits screwed into a door that feels both painfully familiar and impossibly distant.

The hallway is quiet. The kind of silence that feels sacred, like the world is holding its breath. He’s not sure what he expected from you after all this time. But he has thought about it on the way here. Maybe he needed some kind of clarity, maybe. Or perhaps some sort of jolt, that was full of certainty. 

But all he feels is the ache in his back, the stiffness in his legs, the ringing in his ears from hours of the road and too many thoughts he couldn't turn off. He exhales slowly and lifts a hand, hesitating before his knuckles meet the wood.

What if you're not here? What if you moved out months ago and he just never found out? What if someone else opens the door and a stranger with no idea who he is or who you were to him?

What if you are here? What if you open the door and look at him like he’s nothing more than a ghost of a life you buried? What if you don’t want to see him? What if it’s too late?

But still, at 5:05 A.M., he gathers the courage that was needed. And then he knocks. Three soft raps. Hesitant. Uncharacteristically gentle. He could’ve warped into the room. He could’ve forced the lock, peeled away the door with a flick of his fingers. 

But no, this isn’t a mission. This isn’t a battlefield. This is something far more terrifying. This is you. So he waits, one hand braced on the doorframe, the other shoved in his coat pocket, fingers twitching slightly from exhaustion and nerves.

He’s never been this tired. Not from fights, not from cursed spirits, not even from death itself. But standing here, outside your door, unsure if you’ll open it. He feels like the most fragile version of himself.

Still, he’s willing to take the risk. Because it’s you. Despite everything, after everything, he still hopes. He still wants to believe you might open the door. And maybe, just maybe, you haven’t stopped waiting for him either.

The knock fades into the hush of early morning. Stillness settles around him like dust. He doesn’t know how long he stands there. Seconds, minutes. Long enough for doubt to start clawing its way up his spine.

And then, a soft shuffle behind the door. A click. The sound of a chain sliding back. His breath catches. The door opens just a crack at first, cautious. A sliver of warm light spills out into the hallway, brushing against his face like a memory. And then, slowly, it opens wider.

And there you are. Bleary-eyed. Hair tangled from sleep. One sleeve of your shirt slipping off your shoulder. You look like the past few years have lived in your bones, too. You blink once, twice. Like you’re trying to convince yourself he’s really standing there.

“Satoru?” Your voice is hoarse. Barely above a whisper.

He swallows, throat tight. “Hey.” he says softly. His voice almost breaks on it. “Sorry. I… probably should’ve called.”

You don’t say anything. Just stare at him like a ghost’s walked back into your life. His bright blue gaze flicks down, he sees the faint tremble in your hands, the way you hold the door like it’s the only thing keeping you upright. And yet, you don’t close it. You don’t shut him out.

“I didn’t know if you still lived here still.” he says. “But I had to try.”

You let out a shaky breath, half-laugh, half-sob. “You drove here?”

“Ten hours.” He tries for a smile, but it’s weak. “Well. Nine and a half. I got lucky with traffic.”

Silence settles again, thick with the weight of everything unspoken. The last time you saw each other. The way it ended. The way it never really did. You look at him like you’re still waiting for the punchline.

He shifts on his feet. His shoulders slump a little. “I’m not here to make things harder for you, not at all.” he says to you. “I just… I wanted to see you. Even if it’s just once.”

Your eyes flick over him, taking in the exhaustion carved into his features, the tight set of his jaw, the way his hands won’t stay still. And then, softly, you ask him, “Are you going to stand in the hallway all morning?”

He blinks. And then, you open the door the rest of the way.

Just enough for him to step inside.

Just enough to let something back in.

SATORU TAKES IT ALL IN LITTLE BY LITTLE. But he was thinking too fast, too much that he didn’t know how to truly handle this. After all, this was the first time he’s seen you in a long while. He stepped inside, and the first thing he truly, honestly, felt after all that overwhelming sense wasn't relief. It's a shame.

Because he’s done this before. So many times over the past ten years, he’s found his way back to your door. Sometimes with apologies. Sometimes with silence. Sometimes with nothing but his presence and the weight of everything he couldn't bring himself to say.

And every time, you let him in. That’s the part that kills him the most. Because this, this thing between you and him, it was never healthy. Not really. There was love, yes. But love doesn’t mean safety. Or relief. 

Love doesn’t mean good. And what you had with him was so tangled up in grief and guilt and need that he can’t separate it anymore. Can’t tell where his feelings end and yours begin. Can’t tell if coming back was ever about you, or just his own inability to let go of the one place in the world he could feel something other than pain.

He watches you move through your apartment, in the unfamiliarity of your space, your life and the familiarity of it guts him. He shouldn’t still know the way your shoulders hunch when you’re tired. Shouldn’t still know which cabinet you keep the tea in. Shouldn’t feel like this place is a page from a chapter he refuses to close.

This is stupid, he thinks to himself. This is so fucked.

Because this isn’t love anymore. Not the way it used to be. It’s a cycle. It’s him leaving, and you letting him go. It’s him returning, and you leaving the door open just enough.

And he tells himself every time that it’ll be different. This time, he’ll say the right thing. Stay longer. Try harder. Be better. But it’s never different. It always ends the same way, with you breaking apart in front of him and him too afraid to hold the pieces. Or worse, clinging so tightly he crushes what’s left.

He sits down at the kitchen table, the cup of tea warm in his hands, and says nothing.  Because what can he say to you? That he missed you? That he’s sorry? That he still dreams about you brushing your teeth and yelling about socks in the sink? 

He almost laughs at himself. It’s pathetic, really. The strongest sorcerer in the world, chasing after a ghost he keeps resurrecting for his own comfort. You sit across from him in silence. Just like always. As if the two of you are playing your roles in a scene that never ends. All too quiet, tired, full of ghosts.

He looks at you and wonders how you do it. How you still let him in. Maybe you’re just as broken as he is. Maybe that’s why it’s always been so easy to come back. Maybe that’s why he keeps doing it.

Not because it’s love, but because it’s familiar. Because it’s the one place where he doesn’t have to be Gojo Satoru, The Strongest. Just a man. Just yours. Or what’s left of him, anyway. He leans back in the chair and stares at the ceiling, exhaustion settling into his bones.

“We’re really bad for each other, aren’t we?” he says suddenly, voice quiet.

You don’t flinch. You just nod, eyes down on your cup. “I know.”

Somehow, honesty feels heavier than all the lies you’ve ever told each other. He closes his eyes, lets his head fall back, and for the first time in years, he wonders if maybe this really is the last time he’ll ever walk through your door. And if it is, would that finally be the kindest thing either of you ever did?

The sun begins to bleed through the blinds. It casts long stripes across the floor, across the table where your hands rest, unmoving. It catches on the rim of his teacup, half-empty, long gone cold. Neither of you touches it.

The silence stretches, not hostile, just hollow. Like a house no longer lived in. Gojo Satoru  watches you from across the table, eyes heavy-lidded, but alert. Always alert. That’s part of the curse, isn’t it? Even in this fragile moment, even in your home, he can’t stop watching. Can’t stop bracing.

You look up at him finally, and your voice is soft, but not unsure. “So why did you come here?”

He exhales. It’s not frustration, not defensiveness. Just… tired. “I don’t know if I’m going to be honest with you….Maybe because I missed you. Because I’m selfish. Because I thought maybe I could fix something.”

You nod slowly, like you expected that. Like you’ve heard it before. “Or maybe…..” you say quietly, eyeing him. “You just needed somewhere to feel less alone.”

The words don’t stab, they sink. Like a stone dropping into still water. You’ve always seen him too clearly. Even when he made himself impossible to reach. Even when he wore a smile like armor and a blindfold like distance. You always saw him.

And that more than anything might be the reason he keeps coming back. Because you were the only one left that could ever touch that barrier that he had set long ago. Satoru rubs his face with both hands and lets out a long, ragged breath. 

“This thing we have, baby.” he says slowly. “It’s not love anymore. Or if it is, it’s the kind that hurts too much to be worth anything.”

You nodded back at him, in some ways agreeing. You don’t fight him on it. You don’t cry, either. That’s how he knows you’ve thought the same for a long time. He leans forward, resting his forearms on the table.

“I used to think…” he trails off, then laughs, bitterly. “I used to think the strongest thing I could do was keep going. Keep holding on. Keep you here.”

“And now?” you ask.

He looks at you for a moment.

There’s no shield in his blue eyes. 

No glasses, or any mask to hide it away.

Just a man stripped bare, finally.

“Now I think the strongest thing I can do is leave, or at least I think that’s it.” he says, smiling almost too bitterly, too sadly than anything you could comprehend. “And never come back.”

You look at him for a long time. Long enough for a thousand memories to pass between you in silence. All the nights spent curled around each other like lifelines. All the mornings after fights. All the wordless apologies. All the doorways he stood in. All the times you let him stay.

You reach out then. Of course, not to pull him back, but to set your hand over his, gently. It’s the softest you’ve touched him in years. The most honest way, you had in a long while, too. Everything about it burned as much as it comforted.

“I loved you, Satoru.” you whisper. “Far too much for my own good.”

“I know that already.” he says to you, all too knowing. “I loved you too. In all the wrong ways.”

You both sit with it. That awful, beautiful, human thing. The sun shifts again. Warmer now. Higher in the sky. No longer a suggestion of morning, but a quiet declaration of a day beginning. Whether or not you’re ready for it. 

It spills across the floor in golden slants, brushing over dust motes, stretching across the table, catching the sharp line of his jaw, the delicate bend of your wrist, the rim of the teacup that’s gone cold and untouched. A relic of another ritual that once meant something.

You don’t let go of his hand right away. There’s no tightening, no grasping, just stillness. You hold it not like someone holding on, but like someone making peace. Between you is not a plea, not a prayer. It was just the soft shape of a goodbye neither of you can say yet.

Your weary eyes stay on the light dancing across the floor. It feels symbolic, ridiculous, almost theatrical. But you don’t look away from him. You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t help it, if you were being honest.

“I think I stopped being myself when we started falling apart, Satoru.” you say quietly. The words don’t shake. They land with the solemnity of truth, a truth long overdue. “And I didn’t even notice until there was nothing left but pieces.”

It’s not an accusation. You’re not blaming him. You’re not even blaming yourself. You’re just stating a fact, like reading the last line of a book you’ve read too many times. One that always ends the same. He squeezes your hand once. It’s small. All too human. It trembles just slightly.

“I noticed that too well too.” he murmurs, eyes down. “I just didn’t know how to help without ruining what little we had left.”

His voice doesn’t carry anger. No resentment. Just resignation. The dull ache of someone who tried even clumsily, wrongly, desperately and still came up short. Someone who held onto the hope that loving you was enough, even when he knew love couldn’t stitch together something that was already fraying at the seams.

You let go first. And it’s the bravest thing you’ve done in years. Braver than walking away. Braver than staying. Braver than every time you cracked open the door and let him back in, convincing yourself maybe this time would be different. This time, you let go, and you mean it.

He stands slowly. Like someone coming out of a long coma. His spine protests. His knees creak. There’s a heaviness to him, not just in body but in soul. Like gravity has finally caught up with him after years of pretending he was above it.

You watch him glance around the apartment. And you know what he’s doing. He’s archiving it. The crooked photo on the wall, taken years ago, before everything fell apart. The chipped bowl on the counter you always swore you’d replace but never did. 

The blanket on the back of the couch still carries traces of both your scents. The stack of books he never read but always asked about. This wasn’t just where you lived. It was the life he almost had. The version of him he could’ve been. The future that never quite formed.

And then he turns to you, still standing in that patch of sunlight, the light now softening the sharp edges of his face. Somehow, it was making him look younger, sadder, more human than he’s let himself be in years. The god for a moment was off the pedestal.

“I’m going to try.” he says, voice low, eyes fixed on yours. “To stop coming back.”

It hits like a soft thud in your chest. You don’t speak right away. Your throat is tight, your heart louder than it should be. You want to say something back to him. Anything. But there’s nothing left that won’t undo what you’ve both finally started to build: distance, clarity, peace.

So you nod. You nod like it’s the only language you trust yourself to use. “I see.”

“I want you to be happy.” he adds, almost too hesitantly. “Even if I’m not there to see it.”

It’s the most generous thing he’s ever said to you. Because you both know: he won’t be there to see it. He can’t be. That’s the whole point. Still, he means it. At least he tries to make it so. And you… you believe him.

You look at him then, really look. Like you’re trying to memorize him in return. The slope of his shoulders, the tired set of his mouth, the way he still stands like someone bracing for impact, even when there’s no one left to fight.

Your voice is barely above a whisper. “Even if you’ll never see me again?”

The question hangs in the air between you, raw and trembling. It’s not meant to guilt him. It’s not meant to beg. It’s just the truth laid bare, like everything else this morning. He swallows hard. Something shifts in his expression. Something deep and reluctant and vulnerable. His mouth lifts, but it isn’t a smile. Not really.

He laughs, bitter and broken at the edges. The kind of laugh that tastes like regret. “But I’m not strong enough to admit that.”

There it is. The crack. The fault line that’s always been there between the two of you. Because for all his power, all his strength, Gojo Satoru was never good at losing. Never good at walking away without leaving the door cracked open, just in case.

And all of this, all that could ever be, and most of all, you? Letting go for good? It scares him more than death ever did. You let the silence stretch again. Not to punish him. Not to demand more. Just because this is the last silence.

The last time you will sit across from him and feel every version of yourselves folded into the space between you. Every argument, every kiss, every time you swore you'd never do this again and then did it anyway.

You inhale slowly, and your chest feels too full and hollow all at once. He doesn't move. Still standing there, a man made of contradictions. The strongest sorcerer alive. The loneliest man you’ve ever known. A boy who never learned how to stop reaching for things already slipping away.

You rise to your feet, slowly. There's no drama in it. No chase scene. Just a tired kind of grace. You walk toward him, not to stop him, not to plead. Just to stand with him for a moment longer.

You pause beside him, just barely close enough that your shoulders almost touch. You don’t look at him when you speak. “Then I’ll be the strong one, for the both of us.” you say.

He closes his bright blue eyes for a moment. He did so like the words hurt. Like they’re mercy and cruelty in equal measure. You reach for the doorknob before he can. It’s gentle, but decisive. You open the door for him.

The hallway is flooded now in the morning. Golden, blinding. The kind of light that makes you squint, makes everything look a little softer than it is. You don’t know if it’s kindness or illusion. He hesitates at the threshold.

You don’t. You step back, just enough for him to leave. And he does. Slowly. Like a man walking out of a dream he doesn’t want to wake from. He turns to go. He even takes a step, just one, all toward the open door.

But he stops. His hand flexes at his side, caught between impulse and restraint. And then  slowly, deliberately, he finds his body acting on its own. Fully now, he finds it all comes too suddenly. He turns back to you.

You’re still standing where you were, barely a pace away. Your eyes meet his, and something shifts in the air between you. A tension that has lived there for years, never fully named, never fully released. It hums now, sharp and quiet, like a held breath.

He steps forward. One step. Then another. Until he’s right in front of you. Towering over you like he always does, all height and presence and gravity, but somehow more fragile now than you’ve ever seen him. Like the armor has finally worn through. Like he’s not sure if he’s here to say goodbye or beg for one last moment.

You look up at him, and your throat tightens. Because you know that look. It’s the look he wore the first time he kissed you. The look of someone who already knows the ending but chooses the beginning anyway.

There’s so much he doesn’t say. 

He doesn’t apologize. Doesn’t make promises.

He doesn’t tell you he loves you.

Not again, not now, when it’s too late for it to change anything.

And still, he leans in as close as he could, little by little. Slow, hesitant. His eyes search yours, asking a question without words, one last time. You don’t pull away. You don’t stop him. And when he kisses you, it’s not passionate. It’s not heated or desperate.

It’s soft. Devastatingly soft. Like a goodbye dressed up as something sweeter. As something more sinful, something more deadly than poison, something more despotic than desire.  His mouth moves against yours with reverence, not possession. 

There’s no rush. No hunger. Just aching tenderness. Like he wants to memorize the way you taste in the light of morning, the way you feel when there’s no one left to lie to. Not even yourselves.

When he pulls back, he lingers. He lets his forehead brush against yours. Both your eyes shut. Breathing the same air like it’s the last thing you’ll ever share on this earth  ever again. Because it is. He liked to believe it is. And maybe, he’d convince you too.

He steps back, but then something inside him shifts. Maybe it’s the years of unsaid words, the moments stolen and lost, the weight of all the things he wishes he could take back. Without hesitation, he leans in again.

This second kiss is quieter, softer. Less a demand and more a confession. His lips brush yours with a tenderness that makes your heart ache, as if he’s trying to press every ounce of his regret, every fragment of love, into this single, fragile moment.

The world around you fades. The sunlight slanting through the blinds, the chipped bowl on the counter, the silence filling the apartment. All that disappears beneath the gravity of his touch. Time folds in on itself, drawing you into the eye of something quiet and devastating.

Satoru’s hands find your waist, fingers trembling with a restraint he doesn’t bother to hide. He steadies himself against you. Not just physically, but as though you are the last true thing left to hold onto in a world that’s constantly slipping from his grasp.

His touch is tentative, reverent, as if he’s half-expecting you to vanish beneath his hands. Your own shaking hands rise before you can think, palms settling against the heat of his chest.

Beneath them, his heart beats strong and steady, a sound that has, for as long as you can remember, both comforted you and carved you open. It’s a rhythm you know too well, a rhythm that once meant safety, and now, carries the ache of everything unsaid.

When he finally pulls away, it’s not distance he creates, it’s pause. His forehead rests against yours, skin warm, breath trembling in the narrow space between. His eyes are shut tight, like he’s memorizing this moment by feeling alone. 

The slope of your brow, the hitch in your breath, the shared silence shaped like a wound. He didn’t want to forget it. He didn’t want it all to become hazy in the back of his mind in those lonely nights. He wanted to remember everything, piece by piece, line by line, moment by moment.

“I had to.” he whispers. The words break against you, fragile and raw, heavy with regret. They’re not an excuse. They’re a confession.

“I know.” You nod, eyes closed, anchoring yourself to the weight of him, the weight of what he’s done, of what it means. 

Your throat tightens with everything you want to say and can’t. So instead, you offer him the only truth you can bear. You swallow hard and take a step back, not far, but enough to gather what little composure remains.

“You should go, Satoru.” you say quietly. 

It isn’t cold words to you. He knew that, you were sure. If anything, it's a tiring tune sung by the other bird in this gilded cage you both made for yourselves, frayed in grievance and need for salvation. A threadbare plea in the face of something you no longer know how to hold.

But he doesn’t move. His gaze lingers on you, unreadable. And then, wordlessly, he leans in again. This time there’s no hesitance, no trembling in his hands. His mouth finds yours like it’s the only thing he’s sure of, like if he kisses you hard enough, time might rewind itself and mercy might bloom in the spaces between what you lost.

You should stop him, you tell yourself.

And somehow, somewhere in you, you don’t.

You don’t know how to do it, not when it comes to him.

You could never deny your god anything he ever wanted.

Not even this, not even relief, not even you.

You fall into him, into the familiar warmth of his mouth. The soft scrape of his teeth, the way his breath hitches when your fingers curl into his shirt. His hands slide up your back, slow, anchoring, and the kiss deepens. 

Everything was even hotter now, hungrier, greedier. Not desperate, but perhaps itching close to it. The kind of kiss that makes your knees forget how to hold you, that scrapes every rational thought from your head until there’s only him. His mouth, his breath, the weight of his want colliding with yours.

The world, already far away, vanishes entirely. There's only the drag of his lips, the burn of your need, the ache of history threading itself between kisses that taste like grief and defiance and something you’re too afraid to name.

His hands are at your waist again, pulling you closer, close enough that you feel everything he’s been holding back. And god, you want to hate him for it. But all you do is kiss him harder. You don’t know what you’re doing. You just know you don’t want it to stop. Not yet.

Satoru lets himself groan into the kiss, his hands tightening on your waist, pulling you flush against him. He can feel every curve, every inch of you. To him, it's like coming home after a long, lonely journey. 

He kisses you like a man starved, like he's trying to memorize the taste of you, the feel of you. His tongue slides against yours, hot and demanding, and you meet him stroke for stroke, your own hunger rising to match his.He breaks the kiss suddenly, panting, his forehead pressed against yours. 

"Bedroom, baby." he rasps, his voice hoarse with desire. "Now."

He doesn't wait for a response, lifting you effortlessly and carrying you towards the bedroom.He kicks the door shut behind him, then sets you down gently on the bed. He stands there for a moment, just looking at you, his chest heaving, his eyes dark with want.

Slowly, deliberately, he begins to unbutton his shirt, his bright blue eyes never leaving yours. Each button reveals more of his chest, the toned muscles, the light dusting of hair, the scars that map his history, his truth.

He shrugs out of the shirt, letting it fall to the floor, then reaches for his belt, unbuckling it with a slow, deliberate motion. He pauses, his hand on the button of his pants, a question in his eyes. He's giving you a chance to stop this, to say no, to push him away. But you don't. You can't.

You're caught in his gaze, in the heat of the moment, in the tangled web of your past and present. You shake your head slightly, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. That's all the encouragement he needs. He unbuttons his pants, pushing them down along with his underwear, stepping out of them to stand naked before you.

He's hard, his erection standing proud and tall, the tip flushed a deep red.He climbs onto the bed, crawling over you, his hands braced on either side of your head. He looks down at you, his eyes burning with desire and something deeper, something that makes your heart ache.

He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, then another to your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. He nuzzles aside the neckline of your dress, kissing the swell of your breast. He looks up at you, his voice a low rumble.

"Can I, pretty?" he asks, his fingers toying with the strap of your dress. 

He's asking permission, giving you the chance to say no, to maintain some semblance of control. But you're past that.You're past thinking, past reasoning. There's only him, only this, only the burning need that consumes you both. You arch into his touch, a silent plea.

Satoru takes that as consent, his fingers deftly unzipping your morning dress. He peels it off slowly, revealing your skin inch by inch, his eyes darkening with desire at the sight of you. He tosses the dress aside, leaving you in your underwear.

He would remove those too, but he pauses, drinking in the sight of you laid out beneath him, your chest rising and falling rapidly, your lips parted, your eyes heavy-lidded with want. He leans down, pressing a kiss to your stomach.

His massive hands sliding up your sides to cup your breasts through the lace of your bra. He thumbs your nipples, feeling them harden under his touch. He looks up at you, a smirk playing on his lips.

"You're beautiful, baby." he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "So fucking beautiful."

He hooks his fingers under the straps of your bra, pulling them down slowly, freeing your breasts. He pauses, admiring the view. Your breasts are full and round, the nipples a dusky pink, hardened into tight buds. 

He leans down, pressing a kiss to the valley between them, then another to each nipple, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin. He takes one nipple into his mouth, sucking gently, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak. 

His hand kneads your other breast, his fingers plucking at the nipple, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. He switches sides, giving the other breast the same attention, his touch driving you wild with desire.

You arch into him, your hands tangling in his hair, holding him against you. He releases your nipple with a pop, looking up at you with a wicked grin. He slides down your body, kissing a trail across your stomach, his hands hooking into the waistband of your panties.

He looks up at you, his eyes questioning, seeking your permission to continue. You nod, your breath coming in short gasps, your body aching for his touch. He slides your panties down slowly, his fingers trailing along your thighs, your calves, until they're completely off. 

Satoru tosses them aside, then settles between your legs, his shoulders pushing them apart. He looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire as he takes in the sight of you, bare and open to him.

He leans in, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh, then another, slowly working his way up. He pauses at the apex of your thighs, his breath hot against your core. He inhales deeply, a low groan rumbling in his chest.

"You smell so good, baby. So so good." he murmurs, his voice strained with want.

He presses a kiss to your folds, his tongue flicking out to taste you. You gasp, your hips jerking at the sudden contact. He groans at your taste, his tongue delving deeper, exploring your folds, circling your clit.

Satoru licks and sucks, his movements slow and deliberate, building the pleasure inside you. He slides a finger inside you, curling it upwards, hitting that spot that makes your toes curl. He adds another finger, pumping them in and out, his tongue never stopping its assault on your clit.

Your hands fist in the sheets, your back arching off the bed, your hips grinding against his face. He looks up at you, his eyes locked with yours, watching as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

Your blue eyed lover increases his pace, his fingers moving faster, his tongue flicking harder against your clit. He knows you're close, can feel you tightening around his fingers. He doubles his efforts, determined to push you over.

Your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, crashing over you, drowning you in pleasure. You scream his name, your body convulsing, your hips bucking wildly against his face.

Satoru doesn't let up, his fingers and tongue continuing their relentless assault, drawing out your orgasm. He wanted you until you're a trembling, oversensitive mess. He always has. You cry as you feel it.

Only then does he slow, gentling his touch, bringing you down from the high. He kisses your inner thighs, your stomach, your breasts, his way back up to your mouth. He kisses you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his lips. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close, your hearts beating in sync.

Your godly lover pulls back, his eyes searching yours, a question in their depths. He's asking if you're ready for more, if you want him to continue. You nod, your hands sliding down his back to grip his ass, pulling him closer. You're not done with him yet. Not by a long shot. And nor is he.

SAME OLD STORY IS YOU BOTH ENTANGLED IN THE WORST OF YOUR BOUNTIFUL COMPLEXITIES. Morning comes softly, slipping through the curtains like it doesn’t know what it interrupted. The apartment is still, heavy with the scent of sleep and skin, with the echo of things you didn’t mean to let happen again.

You’re lying face to face in your bed, tangled in sheets and silence, still bare from everything you gave each other last night. There’s no space between you, not really. But the distance between you could be felt everywhere. It is just as much present as your love. Perhaps even louder.

It felt almost like it didn't need to be this noticeable and yet it was. All too well, all too unspoken. And yet you didn’t want to let it go. This little selfish moment for you, this wanting, this desire that you just can’t help. You think about it too often, all too much. And you hated it, as much as you loved it. 

In the way your fingers don’t move to trace his cheek. In the way his eyes search yours like he’s already bracing for the end. You don’t know how long you’ve been staring at him. Minutes, hours. Time feels like it’s holding its breath.

His hand rests near yours on the pillow, not touching, but close. And god, it would be so easy to reach out. To stay. To pretend. But you can’t. You exhale slowly, eyes fixed on him like this might be the last time you allow it.

“You should go.” you say, quieter this time. 

Not like last night, not with the heat of everything still pulsing through you. This is softer. This is sadder. A truth shaped like surrender. His bright godly eyes don’t flinch. He nods, barely, his voice a whisper against the space between you.

“I know.”

It breaks something in you, the way he says it. Like he’s been expecting it since the moment he touched you again. Like maybe he wishes you’d asked him to stay. But neither of you say that. You never do.

You lie there for a few seconds longer, facing each other, your hearts still humming in sync from what you shared. And then, slowly, like peeling off a memory, he slips out of bed, starts gathering his clothes in silence.

The rustle of fabric is the only sound in the room. His shirt slipping over his shoulders, the zip of his pants, the soft scrape of denim against skin. You don’t move. You just watch the ceiling, your throat tight with everything you won’t let yourself feel.

He hesitates by the edge of the bed, uniform shirt still unbuttoned, hands stilled at his sides. The air between you is heavy, unspoken things crowding into the morning light. He doesn’t know how he can look at you right now. He can’t. Not like this.

“I didn’t come here to hurt you, baby.” he says quietly.

You close your eyes, feeling the tears fall from your eyes. But you hide it as much as you can. You can’t show it to him. Not now. You know that he crumbles completely when you cry. And he didn’t need that. Not when he’s wanting to whisper goodbye.

“I know.” you say to him. “I know it all too well.”

A pause. You can hear the way he breathes, sharp and careful. “I just…” he trails off, then tries again. “It felt like something real, again. Last night.”

You open your eyes and look at him then, really look. His luscious white hair is in a horrible mess, his bright eyes tired, his mouth still soft from sleep and kisses that should’ve never happened.

“It was real, you know that.” you say to him in a whistled whisper. “That’s the problem.”

He swallows hard, looking away like he can’t bear to hold your gaze. “I don’t know how to stop wanting this, [name].”

"Satoru, stop."

"I want you." he admits. It jarred you. How easily it tugs your heartstrings when he says your name. How easily he can draw you back. “I want….I want this.”

“You don’t have to stop wanting it, Satoru.” you say to him, not wanting to look at him either. “You just have to stop coming back.”

That lands between you like a bruise. His jaw tenses. His hands curl into fists, then relax again. “I’m sorry.”

You nod once. “I know.”

He stands there a moment longer, like he wants to say something else. Like maybe this time he’ll stay. But he doesn’t. He buttons his shirt slowly. He finds his shoes. He walks to the door. And just before he opens it, he speaks to you. Soft, barely audible.

“Satoru?”

He turns. The morning light catches the edge of his profile, all gold and ghost. A boy you once loved. A man you can’t quite forget. You don’t ask him to stay. You can’t do it. Not when he will never be the man you wanted him to be.

“Next time, don’t knock.”

His expression falters. Something almost shatters in his eyes. “There won’t be a next time……At least I hope not.”

Your breath catches, but you manage a hollow laugh. “We always say that.”

He leans against the doorframe like it’s the only thing keeping him upright, head bowed, languid  fingers gripping the handle like he’s trying to convince himself to turn it. He didn’t even know he was holding his breath.

“I keep thinking if I leave fast enough, I’ll stop coming back.” he says to you. “But I never do.”

You shift under the sheets, pulling them tighter around your chest even though you’re not cold. “Because you know I’ll let you in.”

His silence is answer enough.

You sit up slowly, arms wrapped around yourself. 

He stays there, hoping for more in the bitterness.

“You want me to be the one to end it for good. That way you don’t have to.”

He doesn’t deny it. You almost wish he would. You almost wish he’d lie. Instead, he glances back one last time, eyes soft, mouth parted like there’s something more he could say if it would make a difference. But nothing will. So you give him a tired smile. One that’s more pain than peace.

“Go home, Satoru.”

A beat. Then he nods, opens the door, and steps out into the hall. You hear the soft click of it closing behind him. And when he’s gone, really gone, the weight of everything sinks in. You lie back down in the space he left. You wanted to capture it all, what is left of him. 

His side of the bed is still warm, still smelling like him, like last night, like all the nights before that you swore would be the last. You press your fingers to your lips, like maybe you can still hold the memory there a moment longer. 

And then, quietly, to the ceiling, to no one in particular,  “I hope not, too.”

But you know better.

You always do.

He will come back.

And you’d let him in.

[highway-143]

obsession- nishimura riki

genre: fluff, suggestive, maybe angst (?), university au, s2f2e2l (idk man) answer to this ask

pairing: soccer player!riki x fem!reader

taglist: @urlocalmultigroupfan @minkilicious @vrusha01 @shyoko @planetmarlowe (open taglist)

word count: 4.5k

now playing: mastermind- taylor swift

a.n- ty anonie ehehe ilysm ur so sweet

tw: fluffy fluff, shirtless riki (HAHAHA) profanity, a lil kissing but idk

(mostly proofread)

all scenarios are fake and are not meant to harm any idol in the story

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

you liked riki.

that was an understatement, actually.

you had the biggest crush on him it was possible to have.

and he was completely oblivious. or at least you thought he was.

you've had a crush on him since 11th grade, when he moved into your school. he was smart, funny, and the most beautiful boy you had ever seen. best soccer player too.

too bad you were too scared to talk to him.

so you thought it was the miracle of miracles that you ended up at the same university. he had gotten a full-ride scholarship to play on their soccer team, the marlins, and you somehow got in with your nervously-written application.

in all fairness, it was probably looking like you followed him. but you didn't, it was just fate.

and fate was what found you here, outside the sports field, staring at the coach's assistant ad.

that was your in.

so you texted the number, fingers crossed and heart hopeful.

you: hey, is this coach wilkins? i'm y/n l/n and i'd like to apply for the assistant job you had posted.

and then two hours later, you get a response.

wilkins: you've come to the right place! meet me in my office this afternoon around 3 and we can talk some more!

you giddily walk to her office all the way across campus from the dorms, iced coffee in hand and a sense of 'finally' coursing through your veins.

"hey! y/n, right?" she says as you open her door. her features are very tight and controlled, a slick back ponytail giving her a more youthful look even though she had to be in her late thirties. "come on in!"

you smile and sit across from her at her desk. she points to your drink.

"americano?"

you nod.

"those are my favorite!"

you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. "yeah, they're delicious! im actually so addicted to coffee"

"girl, me too." she leans back in her chair, propping her sneaker-clad feet on the desk. "so," she rubs her hands together. "most of the job is just helping out the team, getting waters and moving equipment, you know the drill."

she picks up a soccer ball from where it sat on her desk. "and of course there would be compensation. are you up for the job?"

you grin, liking her more and more. "of course! thank you so much coach!"

"call me sarah. first practice is tomorrow at 5 in the morning. don't be late."

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

"come on cupcakes, you can run faster!"

needless to say, coach wilkins is a little harsher with her team than she is with you. you watch as the group of 25 boys pant on the field, legs pumping as they run laps from goal to goal. the air is frigid and the sky is dark with the hint of light coming from the east.

you didn't regret being up to see it, even if it meant less sleep than normal.

you turn to sarah. "so how long do they last."

"as long as i tell them they need to." she winks and you laugh. "but it's usually about fifty laps before one of them needs a break."

"damn, that's impressive."

"not when the opposing teams can do sixty. that's what we focus on in morning practice. endurance."

you watch as one of the boys stumbles.

"hey crane! pick up the pace!"

he nods and pushes ahead.

you watch in awe.

"how do you just... get them to listen to you like that?"

she laughs. "i really don't know. but i do know that they know that i care about them and their futures. that might be part of it."

all of the boys push through, the first collapse at lap 57.

"great job, marlins! we're almost there!" she shouts across the field.

you scan through the sea of faces, trying to find the one all of this was for.

riki.

he was in the very back, arms raised above his head and sweat on his forehead. his tank top looked just as wet despite the chilly breeze.

his hair was a tousled mess, wet and on the verge of dripping into his eyes. it was a good look on him.

you pick up the bag of waters and start handing them out, the group of out of breath boys thanking you as soon as their hands touched the cold plastic.

your finger brushes riki's when he reaches for one, and your eyes meet his even in the swarm of sweaty shirts and shouting voices.

he grins, a sweet one that you had come to love, and says "thanks"

you smile, nod, and keep distributing the water.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

"wait up!"

you turn around, hearing the voice you knew all too well, and drop the bag of soccer balls in your hands. riki comes to a stop in front of you and smiles.

"you're y/n, right? didn't we go to high school together?"

he sticks out a hand, and you shake it. "yeah, we did. i think we might have been in the same-"

"world economics class, yeah!" he interrupts, but you laugh anyway.

he grabs the bag of balls and walks with you to the storage closet across the field. "so, what did you come here for?"

"i... don't really know. i haven't decided on a major yet, i'm just trying everything."

"that's real. i didn't know you were into soccer though."

you look up at him, giving your carefully thought out excuse.

"yeah, my cousin plays so i know my way around and i saw the ad so... why not make a little extra money, you know?"

he tosses the bag into the shed and looks back at you. he looks tragically beautiful in the sunrise lighting, hair pushed out of his glinting eyes and body shimmering with sweat.

"cool. anyways, i'll see you at practice tonight?"

"yup!"

and you watch him jog off the field and back onto campus, an excitement you hadn't felt since 11th grade filling your body.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

it wasn't long before you were hooked on riki.

it all started on the third day of practice. sarah had you bring the team dinner, just sandwiches from the deli down the street.

riki, instead of sitting with his friends, walked over to the bleachers to talk to you.

you were sitting with sarah, but she gave you a part knowing, part amused, and part curious look, and gets up to berate jack wilson for throwing a tomato at grant james.

"hey," he says, sitting next to you and unwrapping his turkey sandwich. "so i was wondering... do you like parties?"

"depends on the party. why?" you ask, leg bouncing and heart racing.

"there's like... this thing? it's on sunday, and it's like, kind of a party, but more like a banquet for all the sports teams."

"yo, that's cool!" you say, trying to sound oblivious.

"yeah, it is. but there's this thing where all the starters for the teams bring.... like, a date? so i was wondering if you'd maybe wanna go? like i know we don't really know each other but it's better than asking my sister and you're the only other girl i know at this school."

you fight a giggle that was brewing in your chest, along with the massive fist-pump and cheer that would inevitably happen later.

"yeah, sounds fun! mind if i give you my number and you can text me the details?"

"sure," he hands you his phone and cracks his knuckles while you tap on it. "thank you again, you're a lifesaver."

you grin and nod, happier than you could ever have been.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

riki texted you saturday night.

riki: hey y/n, its riki. the banquet thing is gonna be at 7, so i'll come to your dorm and pick you up around 6:40 so we can walk there.

riki: sound good?

riki: its formal dress btw

you jump up and down in your room, and your roomate stares at you like you've lost your mind.

you: okay, that's perfect! see you tmrw

riki: 👍

you throw yourself onto your bed and kick your legs into the mattress. your roomate watches you with curiosity.

"are you okay? what happened?"

"just... something i've been waiting years for."

she nods and goes back to reading her book, shaking her head at you.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

you were on edge all day sunday.

the team had the day off for practice, so you didn't see riki at all.

nope, that's a lie.

you did see him at walmart with his little sister when you were shopping, but you ducked into the next aisle before he noticed you standing by the ice cream.

you didn't want to be awkward around him.

in retrospect, you probably would've been fine if you said hi and started a conversation, but your nerves and the family size bag of goldfish in your cart got the better of you.

you put a lot of work into your appearance that night.

the only times riki had seen you, you were wearing workout shorts or sweats and a ratty hoodie that was comfy but definetly well-loved.

but this time, it was different.

you were in a black silk dress with a low cut and a long slit from ankle to mid thigh. the straps were thin, holding the fabric up just enough so you could show a little cleavage.

a few silver bracelets adorned your wrists, a dainty necklace accentuating your collarbones, and your hair fell in perfect curls around your face.

you pulled on a pair of black heels, making yourself taller.

good, riki was fucking giant.

and when you met him outside your building, purse in hand, you're pretty sure you saw his jaw hit the floor.

he stared at you, and you did a little twirl, blushing when he blatantly looked you up and down.

"holy shit, you look stunning."

you could say the same about him, his black suit crisp over his white shirt that had a few of the buttons undone and a sliver of chest showing that you hadn't seen since senior prom.

"thank you," you say, still standing three feet away.

"we... we should get going."

you follow him through the campus, winding around the many buildings filled with students enjoying their day off.

"you look... really handsome in a suit." you say, half giggling, half embarrassed.

he laughs, a deep sound that has your legs shaking, and smirks at you.

"i haven't worn it in a while, i'm surprised it still fits."

you smile. "is it the same one from prom?"

"yeah, but i'm fairly certian i've grown since then."

"yeah, you definetly gained more muscle."

he grins, hoping you wouldn't see how happy he was that you noticed.

truth be told, riki found you really cute. your personality made him weak in the knees, and your kindness had him wanting to be around you more than he thought he'd want to be.

he was surprised that he'd never met you before.

you walk past a group of little kids playing at a park down the road. one of them, a little girl, was shouting at a boy at the top of the kiddie zipline.

"dont get hurt!" you hear her yell up to him.

you pause, and riki stumbles when he realizes you weren't walking next to him.

"okay, i promise!" he calls down.

she watches in fear as he jumps off the ledge, swinging down to where she waited at the bottom.

"you're so brave!" she said, giving him a hug.

riki recognized the look on the boy's face, it was the same one he had not even two minutes ago.

you coo at the scene.

"aren't they cute? remember being a little kid and being able to show affection like that? god, i miss those days."

you keep walking, and riki follows. "yeah, it was great."

"did you see the way he looked after?" you ask, a sparkle in your eyes when you meet riki's gaze.

"yeah, lovestruck."

you and riki laugh, your heart filled with love and happiness.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

the banquet was nicer than you thought it would be. there were thousands of people, all dressed in formal attire and milling around the room like they owned it.

riki quickly found some of his friends, and introduced you to them.

heeseung, the point gaurd for the basketball team, shook your hand and gave riki a bro hug.

jake, one of his closest friends and defender on the soccer team, gave you an easy smile, and pointed out his date, ashley, who was talking animatedly with a group of girls.

"i don't think she cares about me." he tries to laugh it off, but you see the hurt in his eyes.

riki claps him on the shoulder. "bro, she's not worth it then, you're better than that."

"yeah man," says heeseung, handing him a glass of soda from a waiter. "you're way too good to be chasing any girl that doesn't give a shit about you."

jake chuckles and takes a swig of (what you assumed was) coca cola.

"come on, y/n," heeseung turns to you. "you'd go for a guy like jake, right?"

you stutter, unsure of what to say.

"i mean, yeah! he's handsome and funny, what more could a girl ask for?"

heeseung shakes his head, laughing at riki's face.

"dude, you look like somebody just smacked your mother." says jake.

you turn to find riki composing himself, wiping the jealousy off his face and replacing it with an eye roll.

"okay buddy, time to get you off the caffeine."

jake shakes his head defiantly and takes another sip of his drink. "if you do, there are gonna be two extra balls rolling around on that soccer field."

everyone bursts into laughter, jake's smirk proving his shift in emotions.

the panel of coaches gathers everyone's attention, announcing that dinner would be served soon, and that people should start taking seats.

you, riki, heeseung, and jake all sit together, ashley somewhere across the room with the other girls.

"so riki, are you ready for the first game?" asks heeseung.

"ehh, mostly. kinda nervous but i know i'm gonna play well."

"uh, you definitely are," you say, raising an eyebrow at him. "you're literally the best forward on the team, you're gonna win the game for us."

he smiles at you. "thanks, i hope you're right."

"she's right bro, you're insanely good at soccer." says heeseung, picking at the food on his plate. "like it's scary."

riki laughs, taking a bite of steak.

jake tells you a story about his older brother and a bowl of mac and cheese for the next ten minutes, and you stand up to use the bathroom when he finishes.

jay, one of the players on the football team takes your spot, looking at riki.

"where the fuck did you find her?"

riki laughs, trying his best to not look like a dork in front of one of the most well known kid in the school.

"she's the coach's assistant for our team. i had to ask somebody last minute and she was right there." he lies. "i don't really care about her, she's kind of annoying."

jay smirks. "great, mind if i take a shot at her?"

riki's jaw clenches, furious that jay was treating you like an object to be acquired, but he has a reputation he needs to build.

"nah bro, she's all yours."

jay slides out of your seat, walking back to his table.

heeseung and jake stare at riki like he had gone insane.

"um, what the fuck just happened?"

riki shrugs his shoulders. "i have an impression to make. plus, she would never go for a guy like him. too cocky."

"okay dude, you could do that without insulting her."

riki frowns, eating his asparagus. "okay. but it's not like she's here, she doesn't have to know. and i didn't mean it."

"tell that to the girl that just ran out of the room."

riki's eyes go wide, and he swivels his head to look around, not seeing you anywhere.

"oh fuck," he looks at heeseung. "which way did she go?"

heeseung points to an entrance, and riki immediately stands from his seat.

but his path is blocked by jay.

"just asked her out, and man, you've got a weird one. she started crying when i said you told me i could have her."

riki curses under his breath.

"what was that?" asks jay, raising his eyebrow.

riki fumbles. "uh... nothing, i just... nothing."

"where are you going?"

"uh... bathroom."

riki runs toward the restroom, opening and climbing out the window, racing across the field and sprinting to your dorm in his suit.

good thing he ran for a living.

but it still wasn't enough. by the time he found your building, the doors were just closing behind you.

he stops just in front of the entrance, putting his fist on the glass and panting heavily.

"fuck. ugh."

he pulls out his phone, texting you.

riki: where'd you go?

you: sorry riki, i had an emergency. tell the guys i'm sorry i had to leave early.

riki: oh riki: do you want me to bring anything?

you: no, thanks though.

riki: ok, see you tomorrow morning

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

you thought you'd be fine.

you thought you could just drown yourself with ice cream and tears and end up being happier.

but you were wrong.

practice the next morning was hell.

you ignored riki, tried not to acknowledge him when he stood right behind you, tried to distance yourself.

and he just thought you needed some time.

so he didn't try to talk to you. just played harder than ever during their scrimmage, channeling his anger towards jay.

but mostly his anger towards himself.

he couldn't stop beating himself up about it, internally kicking his nuts for being so fucking stupid.

and you just cried.

you felt like you wasted your time, like he was leading you on, like your heart had broken.

because it had.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

it was thursday night. you hadn't talked to riki for almost two weeks, and you were starting to get over it.

emphasis on the starting to.

you were putting away all the equipment, wheeling the goals away in preperation for the football game that night and collecting balls that had been forgotten near the bleachers.

and then you realize you aren't alone.

riki is kicking a ball around the field, dribbling it between his feet.

and he's not wearing a shirt.

great. whoop dee diddly doo.

you turn around, not wanting to deal with him, but he sees you before you can hide.

"y/n!" he runs over to you, but you pretend not to hear him.

maybe if you stay very silent....

nope.

"hey." he taps you on the shoulder and you spin around.

he stumbles backwards from the glare you're giving him, but keeps talking anyway.

"are you okay? i feel like you're avoiding me. what's wrong?"

he was trying to be careful, but that just made it worse. how dare he act like nothing happened. like he didn't do anything?

"whats wrong?! i'll tell you what's fucking wrong!" you're practically yelling to cover up the tears in your eyes. "it's the fact that you think i'm annoying! the fact that you brought me to that damn banquet and then fucking traded me like a piece of meat."

riki's eyes show his sadness now, his regret.

"and the fact that you called me 'stunning' and talked with me and acted like you liked me and then just..." your voice cracks and you clear your throat. "just acted like i didn't matter."

he tries to speak, but you don't let him.

"and you wanna know something, nishimura? i fucking liked you. i had for a while. but now i'm not so sure."

you walk away, leaving riki alone and at a loss for words on the field.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

you don't talk to riki after that.

and he feels like he lost something important.

it's like how you feel a phantom earbud after listening to music for too long.

or how people who lost limbs sense pain in the appendage they don't have.

he had become so used to your bubbly personality, the way you could smile at anything and see the best in any situation during practice.

but you were gone, and he kept thinking he could just send you a text, fuck, even call you.

but he couldn't.

some people in his situation would be too distraught to keep up on schoolwork and sports. but not riki. his anger at the situation only fueled him during practice.

and when the first game of the season came, he was fucking ready.

coach wilkins was talking in the pre-game huddle.

"okay cupcakes, you've practiced hard and done every damn drill in the book. i know you can win this game today."

the guys nod, but riki is solemn among the nerves.

"ready?" everyone cheers. "go marlins!" she shouts.

the team breaks and runs to the field, riki at the center and facing his equal the opposing team.

you watched from the stands, a speck in the sea of blue, yellow, and silver.

you told yourself you wouldn't go, that you wouldn't think about riki.

but your willpower sucks, so you left your dorm in a marlins tee shirt, shorts, and sunglasses resting on your head even though it was dark and cloudy.

you stared as riki fought the opposing team for the ball, the stands erupting in boos, cheers, and screamed insults when the ref called a foul on him for tripping another player.

the goalie caught the shot, thankfully.

you watched the rest of the game in absolute horror, waiting for someone to finally score a point.

and then, in the last minute of stoppage time-

riki scored.

you were jostled around in the stands, the echo of cheers sounding through the stadium and out into the rest of the world as jake sprinted to riki and pulled him into a huge hug.

the rest of his team crowded around him, slapping him on the back and congratulating him.

the announcer's voice rings through the stadium. "aaaaand riki nishimura scores the final, and winning, point! marlins win the first game and will move up in the championships!"

the cheers are louder now, and you watch as somebody walks up to riki with a mic. his face is projected onto the screen, an elated smile making him look absolutely adorable.

the person with him, a reporter you think, speaks into the mic before pointing it at him. "mr. nishimura, you just won the first game! how does it feel?"

he laughs when jake shakes his shoulder, giving him a dorky grin.

"it feels great, sir!"

"anybody you'd like to thank?"

riki's smile softens, and he starts talking again. his eyes stare into the camera, but it feels like he's looking directly at you.

"yeah, firstly, coach wilkins of course! she was the one who got me here. and then there's somebody else."

the crowd whispers, the noise quieted when riki continues.

"i made a mistake, i hurt somebody that i cared for. and i hope she can forgive me for it. i dedicate my win today to her."

you have to stop the gasp that threatens to rip out of your throat. your heart is beating at a million miles per hour and you feel like all eyes are on you even though nobody could possibly know.

"well... i hope you and the young lady can kiss and make up." the man winks into the camera, making the crowd laugh.

you wait for everyone to leave the stadium until all that's left is you and riki, standing on the field and looking up to where you sat, illuminated by the industrial lights.

"y/n." he calls.

you start walking down to the field, stopping when you get to the wall seperating it from the bleachers.

"i'm so, so sorry for hurting you."

you stand there, just watching him while he walked closer to you.

"i thought that i would look cool in front of jay if i acted like i didn't care, if i let him 'have the girl.' but believe me, i was furious that he was treating you like that, but i thought i wouldn't fit in if i didn't act like them."

he's standing right in front of you now, the barrier the only thing between you.

"but i realized i was wrong. that night, at the banquet, bring around you felt like.... like being in another world. a perfect one. and i want to try again with you, but only if you'll give me a second chance. i know i might not deserve one, but it's up to you."

you watch him carefully, his face a mixture of sadness, guilt, and worry.

"riki, i...." you pause, wiping a tear from your eye. your voice feels like it's about to give out any second, so you whisper.

"i'll give you one."

riki doesn't think he heard you right.

"you're for real?"

you laugh. "for real."

he jumps over the short wall, leaving his ball behind and pulling you into a big hug.

"can i kiss you?" his words are the quietest you've ever heard as his lips come close to your ear.

you dont respond with words, but with actions.

and when thunder rolled through the sky after a flash of lightning, that's where the rain found you and riki.

lips pressed together, arms thrown around each other, and the rest of his team on the other side of the field recording the whole thing.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

a.n- gang im crying shit.... anyways if you liked this fic, please comment/like/reblog and lmk if you have any ideas for another fic!

masterlist you might also like: kissed- n.rk

[imdoingsortagay]

And They Were Roommates

Summary: Rio get's a roommate in you and suddenly she can't function.

Warnings: Smut so 18+ , Rio doing suspicious shit, Top!Rio Vidal, Bottom!reader, pet names with this women, biting, some fluff, aftercare ( because it's important),

Word count: 3.4k

a/n: i was gonna spend a good week on this fic fuck it you get it now because my professors are already on midterm talk. also thank @yourlocalsaiko for the funny ask comment they left on the sneak peek of this for influencing me to finish this. And also happy birthday to @harknessdoll. If this does good maybe a part 2 or little series ????? who knows

Happy reading

Renting a small cottage in the middle of the woods, well not middle maybe like 10 miles away from town seemed like a good idea at the time. No having to deal with noisy neighbors, having a cute little driveway to not share with anyone and not to mention not being woken up to traffic. 

It sounded like the perfect thing until you heard a loud bang that woke you from your slumber, who in the fuck was in your cottage. 

“ Fucking hell,” you mumble to yourself. Good thing Kate had recommended buying that bat incase anyone came in, bedtime you do need to actually buy a weapon of some sort or at least invest in some security. The noise gets louder as you make your way to the kitchen, hear what seems to be a lady humming a tune while she’s looking for something to eat in the fridge. 

“ You leave for a couple of years to explore and someone can think they can just move in ? In my cottage? In my home?” She mumbles to herself. 

“ IM RENTING THIS PLACE YOU ASS” you yell as you try to hit her but her reflexes are faster than you. The lady quickly grabs the bat from you, throwing it somewhere in the kitchen but what she doesn’t expect you to do is bite her back. 

“ OWWWWWWWWWWW” 

Your smile fades quickly when the intruder quickly pins you to the kitchen floor preventing you from moving or biting her again. 

“ Who the fuck are you and why are you even in my house” She asks you

“ Someone posted this place on a realtor site to rent and he’s been renting it to me for the past 6 months,” you explain,” can you let me go now, I promise not to bite you again I swear”. 

“ Just cause I might have abandoned this place 40 years ago doesn’t mean some stupid man can come and rent it to some random person,” she tells you. 

“ Does this mean I need to find another place to live?” You say after a bit of silence which makes the woman giggle. She felt bad that you didn’t know this was her home but it had been years since she had shared her place with anyone besides her ex partner. 

“ If you give me whoever rented this place from you I might let you stay,” she pauses a bit ,” whatever your name is “. 

“ Y/n and no totally will do that, he kind of gave me the ick when he was showing me places too. Like he recommended me this house in New Jersey but the vibe was off so I said no then he was flirting with me way too-“ the mystery woman covers your mouth to prevent you from yapping anymore.

“ Gonna visit this man right away in the morning y/n, he sounds terrible,” and she leaves you to head to the other bedroom,”

“ Wait what’s your name ?” 

“ Rio,” she pauses dramatically ,” Rio Vidal, have a goodnight babe”. 

________________________

After the weird encounter with Rio, she had left around 9am to go talk with Anthony the realtor, not telling you anything else besides a bye. Left you with the cottage for most of the day to finish some emails for work, clean up the mess from late in the night and even make a chicken soup for Rio, or at least for you if she didn’t eat meat. Just as a thank you for not kicking her. 

“ Get Norm the email about next month’s projection sales,” you read around to nobody inside, wondering when she’d come back. 

She’s a grown ass woman who looks like she can easily defend herself. There’s no need to worry where she might be going. Rio has known you for less than half a day I doubt she’s gonna tell you her whereabouts. 

“ God that man is such a crybaby,” Rio announces as you hear the door open, pushing the relief away when she comes towards the kitchen to the smell of chicken soup. It smelled really good, she forgot how it was to not be the only person in this home or at least have someone even cooking at all. 

Rio sees you in the kitchen, trying your very best to act chill around. 

“ Here’s this back, I took care of Bob for you, “ she casually tells you as she goes towards the stove to serve herself some soup. 

“ What do you mean ‘ take care of bob ‘ Rio? “ 

“ Don’t worry about it babe” and when you look in the bad you find a large amount of money. 

“ All your rent money from the past couple of months from that fucking idiot” rio explains , you were gonna ask either way. 

“ so does this mean you’re kicking me out ? I can pay rent don’t worry or if not I can try to find another place to move to since this is your house and all”. 

Rio thinks about it. On one hand , she’s had this house for hundreds of years so there’s no need for you to pay rent. But on the other hand, you really didn’t know that this was her house so it would be rude to expect you to leave so soon. 

You were a little cute after all so this could work in her way if she wanted. 

“ I’ll let you stay on one condition,” you nod, too afraid to say anything due to her very serious demeanor. 

“ Keep doing what you’ve been doing around the place, don’t disturb me when I’m in my room and when I need a favor you do it,” she states. Should be simple enough for you to follow. 

“ You got it pretty ?” 

“ Yes “ 

“ Yes what ? “ 

“ Yes Ma’am?” You say more as a question than a statement. 

“ Good job honey” she coos, paying close attention to the way that you blushed a bit being called the pet name. 

————

“ What the fuck are you even doing up at 7am?” 

“ Good morning to you too princess,” she says as you walk into the kitchen, your slumber being interrupted by whatever she was doing inside. 8am was enough time for you to get ready for work, especially since you do remote work for the most part. 

It’s only been a day since Rio had let you stay and to stay the change was a bit weird for you was an understatement. 

Both of you have mostly been lightly joking with each other half of the time, maybe a bit of flirting to be honest but she’s pretty cute. Doesn’t help that she’s always calling you all these pet names. 

“ Breakfast is on the table babe,” you see a perfectly set plate on the table for you,” based on what you had stocked up in the fridge”.

“ Thank you Rio,”. 

“ No problem hot stuff” she says in the sweetest tone, leaving you alone in the kitchen to question what she might have planned.

———————

One week living with Rio and so far, she’s been wonderful as a roommate. Helps with dishes when you make dinner, keeps the living room spotless, a little loud at night but nothing you can’t handle. 

For a Saturday night, Rio was unsure why you decided to spend it at home and not out like most humans would do. 

“ Reading a book and enjoying some wine ? Boring “, Rio announces as she walks into the living room in her casual fit. Choosing to wear an oversized t shirt of hers and simple pair of shorts. 

“ It’s too far for me to go out rio,” you tell the woman sitting next to you, not bothering to tell her to move. It felt kind of nice to have the other woman sit next to you and not just a pillow of yours like most of the time. 

“ Awe someone as pretty as you doesn’t ever go out?” She coos. 

“ Not when it’s again, way too far to travel to a bar,” you repeat to her and before you can even get a sip of your wine she grabs it out of your hand. 

“ What the fuck ?” You yell back at her and before you can grab it back the woman in front of you chugs it. 

“ We need something stronger babe,” she tells you as she finishes the last of the drink with no shame,” follow me “. 

You don’t say anything when she grabs your hand, leading you to the one room in the cottage that she forbid you to going into, her room. 

Even before she had shown up back to her place, Bob had told you the room could not be unlocked and the windows were covered to anyone passing by and you felt weird about trying to unlock it yourself. When Rio had shown backup you never even got a peek at the inside of her room either so you were a bit excited to see what it was like. 

Was it just her room ? What colors did she choose? Is it decorated all nice or a bit of a mess ?  Did she have anyone in it before you were ? 

Wait, you guys are just roommates you can’t be thinking about that way about Rio at all. 

“ Close your eyes I can’t have you knowing how to open my room door can we princess???” She teases you. God you were not gonna survive this. 

A couple of seconds later you hear the door click open, Rio grabs your hand to lead you into her room and moves you a bit so you can stand in the middle of it. 

“ Open those pretty eyes for me,” you give yourself a couple of seconds to adjust to the light in the room to see the woman. Of course the wall are in her signature green color, a nice dark green to compliment the rest of the room. Paintings you assumed she made herself in the spare time, a mini fridge with what you assumed is where the alcohol she was talking about and a nice queen sized bed in the middle of the room.

“ Your’re the first person that I’ve had in here since my ex by the way y/n,” she starts off, pointing at the bed for you to sit in,” Your room was a guest room we’d use for our friends and this was our room. “ 

“ What happened to your ex ? “ you as casually and Rio makes a face at your question. 

“ Wait fuck I didn’t meant to intrude I am so-“ 

“ Baby it’s all good with me,” she assures you,” we broke up after ten years together because she wanted to explore other option in the world or whatever she fucking meant by that”. Least you know she’s single. 

“ Last time I heard about her, she was living in some town with her current girlfriend and their two cats. Which good for her I guess, I mean she was never the committed type when we were together, all I say is good fucking luck to her current gal or whatever,” she mumbles the last part while looking for a specific alcohol bottle for the two of you. The atmosphere room was pleaseant, Rio must have worked a lot on the room to make it as comfy as she could. 

“ You have any ex’s you wanna talk about y/n ? We only know the basics things about each other” Rio questions after finding the specific bottle of alcohol she was hiding for special occasions. She quickly finds her way onto her bed, placing herself on the right side of where you were sitting, as always leaving no space between the two of you. 

“ How strong is that bottle of alcohol in your hand?” You ask and rio smiles. 

This was gonna be fun. 

_________________________

“ You did not fucking steal Lilia’s jewelry from her cause she accidentally stole some of your food ?” You laugh as she tells the story. 

“ She was being petty with me for a tiny thing I did when we were living together y/n, and all I did was just give her a piece of her medicine is all” she shrugs then takes a big swig of the bottle infant of you both. It had been three hours since Rio had let you in her room and the both of you were talking about whatever as a way to get to know each other. An hour into this hangout session or whatever you both want to call it, rio had suggested you both cuddle with each other and in your tipsy mind you decided why it. 

On the inside, Rio appeared to you as quiet, funny and a little bit mysterious if you had to be honest with yourself. What you didn’t know was that she had been internally been freaking out since she found you here in the cottage. She felt bad kicking you out but it had been a couple of years since she’s had anyone here since Agatha. Rio hadn’t had anyone in the house since then and even if she did for a one night stand, she’d use the guest room to do it and not her own bedroom, making up all sorts of excuses as to why she didn’t have anyone in her own bedroom when she knew the real reason. 

She was afraid. 

Agatha had been her first relationship all those years ago when they met in Salem, built this house together from the ground up, shared so many happy memories together here then decided she wanted to leave Rio because she wanted to do more than just stay in Salem. She was other that woman but her insecurities got the best of her and she hasn’t had a meaningful relationship since. 

“ I don’t know how that would could fucking leave you when you look so fucking hot,” you blurt out of nowhere which takes Rio out of her thoughts. Well, at least she knows that you feel the same way. 

“ You think I’m hot ? “ Rio asks quietly enough for you to hear. 

“ The mysterious demeanor of yours, the hot ass outfit you had when you got here, and not to mention when I first met you in not to good circumstances you kind of made me blush so much” you explain while rubbing her arm. Her mind was going places as you were cuddling up next to her, yapping about how hot she was and then casually rubbing her arm as well.

Both of you were drunk and she wanted to test the waters and see how much she can get out of you, no harming trying to get any information out of you. 

“ How about you come sit on top of me while we talk then princess? “ She asks with a bit of a smile. 

You don’t think about it too much, Rio guiding you on her lap so you don’t accidentally do anything. 

“ Rio did I ever tell you that you look super nice from this angle , like really nice,” you giggle. It’s been years since anyone has said anything nice about her and she’ stumped with how to respond.

“ Can say the same thing about you sweet thing ,” the woman under you says in the most cool way, only eliciting a giggle from you and a confused face from her. 

“ Did you forget to flirt Rio? for a witch who’s been alive longer than I have , you sure don’t know how to flirt with someone when the opportunity arises, “ you say in a joking manner to the older woman. 

“ I might not know how to flirt but there is something else I can do babe,” she teases. 

“ Oh and what’s that honey?” You ask in a sweet tone. 

In an instant, Rio quickly changes positions so that she’s on top of you, pinning your arms above your head so that you don’t do anything with your hands. 

“ You look super pretty under me princess,” she holds your chin in place with one hand while other hand is still pinning you into the mattress, not that you’re complaining or anything. 

“ Just fucking kiss me Vidal,” you beg and you feel the other woman’s lips on yours in an instant. She forgot how good it felt to be in bed with someone she actually had some sort of attraction to. She can’t handle the way that you whine into the kiss, wondering what other pretty noises she can get out of you. 

“ God do you know how many times I fucked myself in this bed baby? We’ve barely known each other but your’re something special baby,” she tells you as she starts to kiss your neck, no shame in leaving marks all over your neck for anyone to see. The sound of your moans and whines while she marks your neck, Rio feeling you grind into her body to set any sort of friction and the feeling of her hands roaming your body make you never want to leave her bed anytime soon. 

“ Take this thing off of your body baby,” she says helping you get up,” I wanna see all of you”. You chose the right night to not wear a bra because the moment she sees that you had nothing underneath your shirt, Rio is on your tits. Sucking on your left nipple while tasting your other nipple with no mercy. 

“ Be good for your mistress while I suck on these titties babe,” she orders,” then maybe I’ll fuck you with my fingers, or you can grind on my thigh so I can see you fall apart above me”. 

“ Fingers! Please! I’ll be good for your mistress” you whine under her touch, you would let Rio let you do anything to you if it meant being pleasured by her . 

“ Good choice baby,” She says happily, her right hands going into your sleep shorts to feel just how wet you were for her. 

Still got it, she thinks to herself.

“ I didn’t even do much to you baby and your pussy is soaked,” she smirks and you moan as she continues to tease you. It won’t take long for you to cum with Rio teasing your pussy combined with her dirty talk. Rio wastes no time in taking off your shorts and underwear before she inserts two fingers into your wet pussy, groaning at the way her fingers go in easily. 

“ Maybe next time we do this you can let Mistress eat this pussy,” she says and you let out a long moan,” god just the way your finger are taking me just makes me want to make you cum over and over again”. 

It doesn’t take long for you to go over the edge with her fingers going at a fast pace, Rio taking in the sight before her. Praising you as she helps you down from your high, no shame in tasting yourself on her fingers, excited for the text time she might actually be able to taste the real thing from the source. 

“Brain feels floaty Rio ,” you mumble to the other woman as she brings you a bottle of water and a small rag to clean you off. You take the bottle with no arguments as she cleans you up. Rio helps you up a bit to help you into your shirt again, internally giggling as how cute you look at her. Looking at her like she was the only person on earth. She felt happy to be seen like that from someone after years of being alone. 

“ How you doing baby?” She asks and you mumble as she pulls you closer to her body. 

“ Fine,” you yawn ,” sleepy”. 

“ Okay baby,” she chuckles,” We can talk tomorrow about us”. 

“ I’d love that Rio,” you say before you fall asleep in her arms and Rio falls asleep not long after with a big smile on her face.

[purplecoffee13]

im a sucker for morning sex like, almost half asleep, barely talking, just quiet moans 😋Maybe friends to lovers

Ooh, yes!!! Absolutely love this concept😮‍💨

It’s a bit short, but I wrote this blurb around it just now. It’s currently 2am, but the inspiration struck and I just had to write it down!! (srry not srry😎😋) I hope it meets your expectations!!!

Thank you for requesting!!!💘

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Your eyelids softly flutter open at the warmth of the sunlight shining on your face. The harsh light makes you squint, and it makes you realize where you are, and with who. The arm wrapped around you confirmed enough, and you smile as you look at the inked arm draping over your frame.

You and Harry had been friends for forever, and you would hold movie nights almost every week. It often got very late, and the two of you would fall asleep in the couch.

Last night was no different. You had had a busy day at work, and was absolutely exhausted. You fell asleep mid movie, and you realize that Harry must’ve carried you to bed. You smile at that revelation, filled with a surge of love for your best friend.

In order to get the sunlight out of your face, you shift around, moving backwards a bit so your eyes aren’t being bothered by the harsh light. Your eyes widen when you feel something brush against your ass. Something that you are 99% sure you should absolutely not be feeling.

There is an increasing heat between your legs that you don’t even know the exact logistics of. It is like your body is telling you something you haven’t dared to consider before.

You try to move your hips forward a bit, attempting to stop the awkwardness. After all, Harry’s asleep, so you can go back to sleep and act like this never happened on a couple of hours.

That’s when you feel Harry’s grip on your waist tightening as he pulls your body back into him, his hardness now firmly pressed between your ass cheeks. You softly gasp at the sudden motion, and your heat begins to ache at the imagination of what could be.

The sole image in your head of him putting that dick inside of you makes you subconsciously grind your hips against him a bit, hoping to relieve some of the frustration that has been starting to build.

You try to be subtle about it, but the pain of being untouched begins to be too unbearable. Your stomach tenses when Harry’s hand suddenly begins to inch lower and lower, going under the waist band of your underwear and shorts, and finding your clit.

Rubbing drawn out circles on your hot wet cunt makes you sigh out in relief. His touch feels far too good to even second guess what the fuck the two of you are doing. The hitched breaths slowly morph into hushed whimpers, the faster Harry’s fingers work your pussy.

When he starts to leave love bites on your neck, you explode. Moaning out his name, you come all over his fingers, letting the pleasure hit you in the waves like it always does.

Without another word, Harry pulls down your shorts and underwear, which you take off completely with the help of your own legs. Arching into him, you wait as Harry takes out his hard cock and rub the tip against your now soaking wet pussy.

“Y’sure?” Harry’s rough morning voice asks, and it is enough to almost have you orgasm again. The low baritone sound is the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. You nod furiously.

“Yes, please. I need it.” You plead with him. Harry clearly doesn’t need to be asked twice, because he immediately pushes himself into you. You mewl at his long, deep thrusts. Each one hits just the right spot in a new, unexpected way.

There aren’t many words shared between the two of you, solely the sounds of your bodies intertwining with each other. His hand finds one of your breasts and fondles it as you both keep pushing into each other.

You bring your own fingers to your clit, working yourself closer to the second orgasm that is already brewing. Just the sounds of his heavy breathing and the beating of his heart would give you that wave of your euphoria.

Then a groan escapes Harry’s lips, but not just a groan. No, he groans your name, right in your ear, followed by a whispered profanity, as he drives himself deeper into you.

Forget the breaths and the heartbeat, the sound of your name rolling off his tongue in a situation like this is what brings you over the edge so quickly again. Your walls clench around him repeatedly as you softly cry out his name.

“F- fuck… shit.” Harry sighs after his thrusts come to a halt. With his face buried in your neck, he softly bites into your shoulder as he comes inside of you.

The feeling of his seed coating every bit of your walls drives your mind absolutely insane.

Harry stays inside of you as you both catch your breath. You can quite literally hear the pounding of your heartbeat ringing in your ear, and you can’t help but let out a breathy chuckle. Harry joins you in your soft, short-lived laughter.

You turn your head towards him, and Harry leans up a bit to meet your face as well. With a big smile, he looks you right in the eyes. No hint of regret, only a smug grin and a clear desire to repeat.

“Good morning.” You say in a joking tone. Harry observes the rest of your face, and pushes a strand of hair behind your ears before he responds.

“Very good morning.”

[night-daily]

Did I catch your attention? | Kei Tsukishima x fem! reader

summary: You're always alone in the library when you're feeling stressed and you need a quiet place, but now there is a blonde guy and his noise music.

warnings: none!

a/n: thanks to my friend who forced asked me to watch haikyuu and now im obsessed with all of them.

and please let me know for any mistakes, thank youu

You have been in a bad mood since the morning. First, you were late for school because you didn't hear your alarm. You ran to your first class but the teacher wasn't happy you interrupted him, so he didn't let you in, and you missed your class.

Second, you didn't have a chance to check the weather before going out and now you were suffering the consequences, it was cold as fuck and your school jacket wasn't enough.

So yeah, you were in a really bad mood but you thought going to your favorite place to relieve some stress was the solution. Oh, how wrong you were.

As soon as you opened the library's door you saw it was crowded. The exams were coming so it wasn't a surprise to see half school there. Sighing you looked for a place to sit, but every table was occupied.

But then you saw him, a blonde guy with headphones sitting alone, perfect.

You thought of asking him if you could sit there, but it was an empty table and a public space so why would you need to ask? You sat down in front of him, taking out your books to put them on the table.

He lifted his eyes from the book he was reading to see who was there and why suddenly the table had a bunch of books, notebooks and a bottle of water, all in different places. He glared at you, his stuff were all organized while you were messy.

Feeling his gaze on you, you look up from the book you tried to read but it was impossible with the loud music blasting from his headphones. You weren't happy with his company either.

Neither of you took your eyes off each other.

You pointed at his headphones, “I can hear your music” You said forcing a smile. Tsukishima of course paused his music to hear you but the annoyed look on your face was funny and he was tired from studying so why not take a break? “I have good taste, don't you think?” He said, looking back at the book on his hands and not even trying to hide the smirk on his face. And if it wasn't enough he was playing his music louder if that was even possible.

But he picked the wrong day and the wrong girl to mess with.

Be nice, be nice, be nice

You stood up from your seat with both hands on the table “Turn down your music, we're in the library not a club” He only lifted an eyebrow, you waited for him to say anything like an apology or something but nothing came out of his mouth.

And without a warning, you almost threw yourself at him if it weren't for the table between you. You tried to take his phone, but he was faster, moving his phone away from you as if he was waiting for you to do that. And instead of taking his phone your hands got tangled in the wires of his headphones pulling his glasses off by accident.

Crack.

You both looked down at the floor where his broken glasses were. Everyone in the library turned their heads to see what whats going on. You cleared your throat, “Sorry” it wasn't clear if you meant it for disturbing the others or for breaking his glasses but you moved quickly, untangling your hands from his wires and walking to get his broken glasses.

Finally, your eyes were on him and before you could say anything, he took the glasses from you.

“Look you gotta admit it was your fault, you weren't supposed to move and—” Tsukishima scoffed, “Is that supposed to be an apology?” You looked at him as if he had grown a second head, “What should I apologize for? I wasn't the one with the loud music” “And I wasn't the one who threw himself at you” “I mean half of the girls throw themselves at you, you must be used to it by now, no?” A cynical smile was now on your face, “So you know who I am, no wonder why you did that, trying to catch my attention then? Original but not interested” He left you with your mouth open like a fish.

“...Asshole” You murmured walking to your chair after a few seconds of silence. It was the first time you had been left without a clever comeback and he just knew it by the smug look on his face.

You decided to ignore his presence by reading your book, again. But you noticed he was having problems to read his book.

Of course, i broke his glasses.

You closed your book with more force than necessary causing the people, including Tsukishima, to turn to look at you.

In a second you were sitting by his side. You snatched the book from his hands and this time you did take him by surprise. “It wasn't enough for you to annoy me with your loud music now i know who had been taking the book i needed since yesterday” Tsukishima looked at you confused and was about to reply but you cut him off.

“Shut up, I'm gonna read for you so don't talk” You were so close to him, so you wouldn't need to raise your voice in case the students wanted to complain about you two.

And just like that, you started reading, in a peaceful voice, unlike his music. He closed his eyes still listening to you, yeah you were way better than music but he wouldn't tell you.

Your knees were touching but none of you dared to move. It was... strangely comfortable. Maybe too comfortable. Well, after all, you did catch his attention.

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

fem!reader face sitting/riding ethan please omg im going insane

Hi! I hope you like it:) ty for your request!

Candy - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: You slept in, so instead of going to class, your boyfriend wants you to sit on his face.

A/N: I'll admit it, I blushed when I wrote this.

You were up late studying at Ethan’s, so he asked you to stay over rather than you trying to drive home in the early morning hours. When you woke up next to him as the sunlight peered through the gap in the curtain, you immediately sat up, frantically checking the time on your phone.

“Fuck, Ethan! It’s almost one!” you yelled, freaking out because your class started in less than 15 minutes.

“Hey, calm down. There’s no way we’ll make it in time,” he said, so nonchalantly that you were questioning what happened to the Ethan that wouldn’t stop stressing about school last night.

“This is the last class before finals, don’t you think we need to at least try to get there?” you asked, anxiety present in your voice.

“Babe, stop stressing. There’s nothing we can do about it,” he said, tiredness evident in his voice, “Just ask that guy that won’t stop trying to flirt with you if we actually missed anything.”

“I thought you didn’t like it when I talked to him?” you giggled, starting to calm down. Ethan was right, there’s no way you’d make it in time, so why freak out about something you can’t fix?

“I don’t, because I know he wants you. But, if it keeps us from having to retake the class, I’m okay with it,” he said, rubbing lazy circles on your back as his eyes remained closed.

“Well, do you want to go get food or something, then? I want to feel like I’m doing something with my day,” you said, looking over to see him smirking.

“I know something we can do,” he said, reaching for your hips.

“Don’t try to insinuate things you’re too tired for,” you said, smiling at him. His half-opened eyes met your alert ones.

“I’m never too tired for that,” he said, trying to sit up. “Orrr, you could just sit on my face.”

You felt your panties dampen at his words. The lusty tone in his half-sleepy voice wasn’t helping, either.

“What if I suffocate you?” you joked, and he started to laugh.

“If I die with my head between your thighs, I die happy.”

His hands started to run up your thighs, caressing them with the tips of his fingers.

“Come on, baby. Take your panties off,” he said, trying to convince you.

You shimmied them down your thighs, leaving you in only one of Ethan’s shirts.

“I’m still worried I’m going to hurt you,” you said, knowing how hard your thighs like to clench together when you cum.

“You won’t, babe. Come here,” he said, and you finally decided to give in.

Your nerves were still there as you straddled him, but way lower than he wanted you to be. You gasped at the feeling of his hard cock under his sweatpants against you.

“Can you just bring your cute ass up here?” he asked, reaching out for you.

You slowly scooted up his body, and once you got closer to his mouth, his arms wrapped around your thighs. You squealed at the feeling. “Just relax, babe. I really want you to get into this, okay?” You nodded at him.

You were still hovering over his mouth, and he wasn’t satisfied with that, so he used his strong arms to fully seat you on his face.

“Oh fuck, Ethan,” you whined as he lazily ate you out. He kept repeating the same action of him dipping his tongue inside of your core, then gliding it up to circle your clit.

He wasn’t trying to rush it, wanting to taste you as long as he could, but you started to get impatient.

“Baby, please go faster,” you said through your labored breathing, as you moved away from his mouth for a minute so he could catch his breath.

“No, I told you I wanted you to get into this. You know what to do, babe,” he said, pulling you back over his mouth with his arms.

He went just as slow, so you started to move your dripping pussy against his tongue.

“Oh shit,” you whined, the stimulation making your legs jolt. You grabbed the headboard as you grinded against him.

He was getting more into it, moaning into your pussy as your thighs started to shake against his head. He licked you faster as you started to feel your orgasm creeping up.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum,” you whimpered, as your hips started moving erratically against him.

You couldn’t control what you were doing, your orgasm so intense that you were sure the headboard would crumble with how hard your hands were gripping it.

Your body started to relax as you moved off of Ethan, who was desperately trying to catch his breath.

“Baby, why didn’t you stop me?” you scolded, running your hand over his chest.

“Remember that thing I said about dying between your thighs? I meant that,” he laughed. “Plus, it’s not my fault your pussy tastes better than candy.”

[romanswifeyyy]

Meet the tribal chief

Warnings: cussing,smut,dominance,

Hair pulling, dirty talking.

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Triple H had just told me that I’m moving to smackdown to be apart of the bloodline crew. Yes I knew exactly who he was talking about… I am about to join the group that has the most dominant man of all wwe ROMAN REIGNS also known as the tribal chief.. now I don’t know much about Roman but I was a fan of the shield when it was around. “Paul I don’t know about this!” I held my breath “y/n you’ll be fine!” He said looking at me with you’ll be okay eyes.

The next morning it was time to go meet the bloodline, it was Friday night smackdown. I walk to nick’s office and there they all sat… except one person and that was the tribal chief himself. He was late, I sat down next to the door and waited, 5 minutes went by and the door opened… I look up and my breath immediately gets taken away. This 6’3 tall Samoan, hair ringing wet, oil all over his body, post match…

he sits down next to the twins and looked at nick, “Roman, Jimmy, jey, solo, Sami, meet y/n she’s gonna be apart of your bloodline” he says with a smile, I go to stand up and Roman stopped me “I’m Roman reigns YOUR tribal chief” he held out his hand for me to shake, I took his hand shaking it smiling. “Hi Roman, I’ve watched since shield days but never really got to meet you!”

2 hours later…

Im currently sitting in Roman’s locker room watching his match, he seems pissed as hell which kind of scares me a little bit because Roman is scary when he gets mad. Roman lost and looks angrier than ever, sitting on his couch I hear him come in and I freeze, “JEY I NEED YOU OUT THERE TAKING CARE OF HIM NOW” he growls, he slams his locker room door shut and starts walking to his shower, then stops and looks over, growls, and in a low but angry voice says “y/n baby, you acknowledge me right..?”

Waiting for me to respond but I froze up and didn’t know what to say.., he steps forward putting a little more power to his voice “I SAID.. y/n you acknowledge me right baby. If you don’t answer your tribal chief there will be consequences”, still frozen I nod a little “THAT wasn’t enough” he grabs me and throws me over his shoulder, taking me in the bathroom with him.

He sits me down and strips me of all my clothes, strips himself, and leads me into the shower. “I see the way you look at me, I see your eyes and your body language when I come around, you’re crazy about me” I make eye contact and I don’t move, “see you can’t even deny it” his low but angry voice has a hint of lust behind it. His hand trails down my stomach and to pussy.

Roman starts rubbing in circles causing my mouth to fall open “mmm feels good doesn’t it babygirl” I hum, he starts rubbing faster causing a moan to slip out. “Very responsive for your tribal chief aren’t we” continuing to keep eye contact he slips a finger in, thrusting his finger in me slow but fast, he turns me around my face to the wall, he strokes himself once and pushes into me slowly, I bite back a loud moan “tell me when you’re ready” I nod

“Ready” I manage to say, he thrusts into me slowly, hearing him breathing heavy turned me on even more, “fucking nick he knew I was going to lose that match” he starts thrusting harder causing my moans to start falling out “can you believe that” he growls and starts drilling into me, god it felt so good I wanted to praise him but it was too hard to speak, the way he fucks, talks, and acts like a badass is even more of a turn on SMACK “did you hear your tribal chief speaking to you” his low but angry voice in my ear “n-no daddy!” He growls getting even more angrier at the moment he grabs my neck and pounds me “YOU’RE MINE!” Talking through his teeth.

I moan loudly he speaks again “good fucking girl!, YOU will obey me AND me only. You will go by my words DO YOU understand me” grunting and moaning I managed to get out a response “Y-yes daddy I understand” SMACK he smacks my ass “good girl” this is what I’ve always wanted I WANTED him. Seeing him, his long hair, the tattoos, watching his matches turned me on. I feel a pit in my stomach “DADDY!!” Feeling my climax coming I start to get louder “You wanna cum?, cum for your tribal chief” hearing those words I lost control of my body, my eyes rolled back, I came.

“Meet your tribal chief” he said with one more snap of the hips he let his seed go into me.

[fairly-fairy-shampoo]

Chapter 2

~Lilith~

Warnings: None

This side was always dimly lit, the sun unable to reach it. It's only light sources being the candles and chandeliers that provide Seonghwa with the light he needs to read. He was happy and content, reading his book on the lost family of House Shax in the North West and House Lee in the North East, back when they were separated and warring with each other. A riveting story of star crossed lovers whose lives and deaths resulted in an all out civil war and the eventual union of the North. A story to truly keep one immersed. That is until the familiar sound of feet shuffling back and forth pulls him out.

“Why was I not informed of this?” He kept his head in his book. “You didn't think this would be something I'd want to know about?” Silence again. Lilith began to get impatient, walking over to Seonghwa to remove the book from his hands, meeting his eyes again. He sighed deeply. “When did this letter come?”

“Always good to see you, cousin.” He says, finally meeting her eyes. She remains unfazed. Same unamused and frankly angry look painting her small, almost childlike features.

“Seonghwa…when…did…this…letter…come.” She said, slightly raising her voice at the end.

“Okay, okay, no need to get aggressive. It came this morning.” He said, starting to rise from his seat and stretching.

“This morning!? And I was not informed immediately!?” Seonghwa reached down to collect his book, moving to leave with Lilith hot on his trail.

“Well dear cousin, in order for someone to receive mail they must be present to receive it.” He said snarkily. Lilith began trying to pick up the pace to meet his eyes but his long legs kept him more than a few steps ahead and faster.

“I was up late last night in my study–” Seonghwa smirked, cutting her off. He stopped abruptly, causing her to stop just short of hitting his back.

“Ah yes, would that be the study on the border of the city or the one closer to…MY native home?” His eyes widened slightly with a knowing look. Which she returned back with a glare.

“Since when was it custom to have the visiting GUEST open the hostess’ letters…” she said, fully facing him, not backing down.

“Since said ‘host’ wasn't at breakfast.” He started to walk away again. Lilith once again fast on his heels.

“It could have been…private or….im– important information.” She started to get out of breath as she struggled to keep up. Seonghwa quickly responded with a laugh.

“Ha! Oh please, I think we both know any real ‘personal’ letters you get are sent to your study. Isn't that the right cousin?” She could practically hear the smirk on his face. Which only angered her more and quickened her pace to catch up. Seonghwa heard the footsteps quicken and abruptly stopped again, causing Lilith to run into his broad back.

“Ow!” She says quietly. “You– I hate when you do that.” She said through gritted teeth, now holding her probably red forehead, bangs falling over her hands. “Listen to me if I–” at this point he’s grown tired of this conversion, opting to end it swiftly.

“Ugh, please it's not a big deal.” He groans, turning to grab the letter from her hand to read it. “You have been invited to the Wedding of Lord Changbin and Lady Minerva blah blah blah. Do you see now? A Brushland wedding for a house that has little to no history tied to it.” Well at least nothing interesting, he thought. “I don’t understand why you care so much.” He returns the letter to Lilith's hand and turns on his heels to leave until something stops him. “Unless…” he says mostly to himself. “I've just realized I was phrasing my question wrong. Why DO you care so much, dear cousin? What ties do you have to this wedding? Have you been so on edge this morning that it's caused you to find me to bother?” he raises an eyebrow. Now he's intrigued, she had never once mentioned anything regarding the Brushlands, let alone the houses residing in it.

“You're being ridiculous, this isn't about the wedding, it's about the principle of the thing.”

“No see, I've been here for over 3 days and–”

“3 days too many.” She says under her breath.

“I've been here for over 3 days and you’ve avoided me like the plague. But this…this is what gets you to seek me out. A ridiculous little wedding for people pretending to be important. No, I'm sorry, you like to claim that I don't know you but you are easier to read than you think, little cousin. So spill, what are your ties to this silly little house and its affairs.” He stares her down with that knowing look in his eye, waiting for her to spill her guts like she did when they were children. Lilith in her youth was never a good liar and Seonghwa could normally pressure her into telling him everything in a matter of minutes. But they aren't children anymore. Lilith stares him down as her face flashes a look of annoyance.

“You paint my life as far more interesting than it is cousin…” she steps to move past him.

“I feel like I shouldn't have to say this since you're leaving tomorrow but stay away from my stuff.” She exclaimed as she headed past the shelves of books to the door. Seonghwa watches as she walks down the line of books headed towards the door and disappears behind a shelf. Knowing she hasn’t left yet he yells out to her.

“Oh, I should probably mention that due to the wedding I'll be staying a few extra days. Do hope you don't mind.” He states in the most condescending voice possible. He waits for the sound of motion stilling followed by a slamming door. He smiles widely, returning to his secluded little room. He always gets the last word

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

( MASTER LIST )

[watchmegetobsessed]

AS IT WAS

A/N: im still in shock, the video killed my last about three working braincell. anywayssss here is a rather emotional piece based on the song and also a weird dream i had last night lol

PAIRING: Harry X Reader (kind of exes to lovers)

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

SUMMARY: You're on a break, but Harry calls you drunk one night and you don't even think twice before going over to check on him.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

The buzzing of your phone drags you out of your sleep, it takes a few moments to realize just how dark it is in the room so it’s probably very late at night. The phone keeps vibrating and the screen flashes as you grab it from the nightstand, squinting your eyes against the bright light as you check the caller ID and your stomach drops.

Harry is calling and it’s three in the morning. This can’t be good.

“H? What’s wrong?” you ask with a racing heart as you sit up in bed and wait for a response, that comes quite late. You hear his breathing, it sounds heavier than usually so you know right away that he is probably drunk. 

“I’m sorry,” he sighs and he sounds so broken and hurt, it’s like a knife in your heart even after everything that has happened between the two of you.

You’re on a break, something you initiated, because you didn’t know this was where you wanted to head in life, if you really wanted to spend the rest of it with Harry. Distance had been an issue lately and Harry didn’t communicate the way you needed him, so that’s when you asked for some time and space.

But that doesn’t mean you don’t love him anymore, you have more love for him than probably anyone else and if he is in trouble, not feeling well, there’s no doubt you’ll be there for him, just like how you know he would drop everything the moment you called.

“H, talk to me, what’s happening?” you ask him while already getting out of bed, looking for clothes to change into, because you know you won’t be able to sleep if you don’t check up on him.

“I just… everything gets in the way… I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he breathes out shakily and you’re already putting on your sneakers, ready to be out of the house the next moment.

“What did you drink, baby?” you ask, the nickname coming out of habit.

“Drinks… That one pill, b-but it’s just so I can sleep,” he explains, and it just adds to your anxiety.

“Just one pill? Are you sure? Harry, you’re no good alone like this, what kind of pills?”

“Yeah. Just one, I promise,” he mumbles, ignoring the last question as you’re running out to your car in the dark. “Y/N, I know it’s not the same as it was, but I miss you so badly. I wish you were here.”

“I’m on my way. Just don’t do anything stupid, okay? I’ll be there in a bit and we can talk.”

“Okay,” he chokes out and the line ends. You’ve never driven faster than in this moment, on your way to Harry’s.

In the meantime Harry is sitting on the hardwood floor of his living room in only a pair of red boxer briefs, a half empty bottle of gin on the coffee table with a glass he didn’t even touch, because it was easier to drink straight from the bottle. The phone drops from his hand and he lies down flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling in the dim lighting, he only has one lamp on in the far corner of the room, illuminating the place enough that he is not sitting in the pitch darkness. 

Tears are dwelling in his eyes and the first one rolls down the side of his face, moving past his ear before it drops to the floor. He knows he hasn’t been the best boyfriend and he doesn’t blame you for wanting to spend some time apart. You’ve been together for three years, it’s definitely a turning point in your relationship, but now he is afraid everything will change for the worse and he’ll lose the most important person in his life and it’s all because of him.

He loses track of time and he doesn’t even hear it when your car parks down on the driveway. The front door opens and you walk in in a rush, looking for him with a racing heart.

“Harry?” you call out and then spot his naked feet in the doorway to the living room. Walking in you find him lying there, his beautiful eyes that you love so much filled with so much sadness as he looks at you through his tears. “Hey, I’m here. It’s okay,” you soothe him as you drop to the floor next to him, helping him to sit up. He is so big and massive, it’s quite the struggle, but you manage to do it and his head falls to your shoulder in an instant as he attempts to hug you, but he can barely coordinate his movements, so he basically just leans onto you.

You wrap your arms around his naked torso and let him sink into you for a bit, gently rubbing his back with the palm of your hand.

“You came. You really came,” he then finally speaks up. 

“Of course, I will always come when you need me, no matter what.”

“I love you. Even if you don’t love me anymore, I still do.”

Pulling back you force him to look you in the eyes as you cup his face in your palms, the stubble he has grown rough against your skin.

“I love you, Harry. I have so much love for you. I just… I have to figure out where I want to head, but I will always love you.”

“You’re just not sure you want to be with me,” he mumbles, his voice dying at the end as tears roll down his cheeks.

You want to tell him you can’t imagine a life without him. You want to tell him that in the past weeks you’ve spent apart have shown you how much you need him to be in your life, but you’re afraid you’re only feeling this way because you’d gotten so used to his presence over the years. You need to be sure your feelings are genuine and not stained by your momentary doubts.

Not sure what to tell him you lean closer and kiss his cheek before pushing yourself up from the ground and helping him up as well. Again, it’s proven to be harder, you definitely don’t have the muscle energy to hold up his massive body, but somehow you get him up on his feet, one arm around your shoulders so you can help him walk into the bedroom. On the way, he keeps chanting I’m sorry, I’m sorry, and you just keep telling him it’s alright and you truly mean it. He has seen you at your lowest as well, helped you through rough patches in your life without batting an eye and you’ll do the same for him.

He falls into bed like a sack of potatoes and you drag the covers over him, his eyes already closing when you tuck him in. Just when you’re about to leave, he grabs your hand softly and holds you back.

“Can you please stay? Just for tonight? I don’t want to wake up alone,” he whispers and you know you would never be able to say no to him.

Kicking your shoes off, you round the bed and get under the covers next to him, his drunk, tired body already pulling closer to you, maybe out of instinct, maybe because he truly needs your closeness, it doesn’t matter. He curls around you like a monkey and despite the mess you’re in, it feels like home to be in the same bed with him. 

“I don’t think I can ever be with anyone else, Y/N,” he mumbles into the darkness while you’re gently scratching his scalp, knowing it always calms him down.

“It’s just us, Harry. It will always be us in this world.”

“Okay,” he breathes out and soon enough, you hear his breathing slowing down as he falls asleep with his head on your rising and falling chest, your heart beating only for him under his cheek.

The morning comes with a throbbing headache for Harry, but he forgets about it fast when he realizes that he is holding you in his arms. Being the big spoon, his front is fully pressed up against your back, only a tank top between you and him. He faintly remembers you were wearing a hoodie when you arrived last night, but it must have gotten too hot so you ditched it. Now he is glad you did, because he can feel the heat of your body a lot more, your familiar scent filling his nostrils as he buries his nose into your hair.

He allows himself to be selfish and hold you for as long as possible, not sure what the moment you wake up brings. Will you be mad at him? Disappointed? Kind? It’s a mystery, but he just wants to hold onto this moment a little longer. The realization that you cannot be replaced strengthening by the minute.

You wake just about ten minutes after Harry, his body stiffening when you turn around to face him, afraid of your reaction. But surprisingly, he sees no disappointment or anger in your beautiful eyes, just a sweet, warm, lazy smile stretches across your face and it melts him right away.

“Your head hurts, right?” you ask with a soft chuckle, as you cup his face in your hands.

“Yeah,” he admits, closing his eyes as you brush your thumb across his forehead, your touch almost taking away the pain alone.

“Let’s make some breakfast and we’ll find you some Advil,” you tell him so softly, as if you were talking to a little child.

Getting out of bed Harry decides it’s better if he has a quick shower, and while he stands under the hot water, he hears you washing your face at the sink, just like before, using the bathroom together without hesitation. It makes him feel like your old life together is not that far or gone, that he can still get it back if he fights for it. If he fights for you.

The two of you move around the kitchen in sync, he makes the eggs, you take care of the coffee and toasts and when your plates are full you sit at the dining table, the weight of last night sitting on your shoulders.

“I’m sorry I bothered you last night. I don’t even know why I thought I could call you so late,” he speaks up, clearing his throat.

“Harry, you know you can always come to me. No matter what.”

“Yes, but you wanted space and I didn’t respect it.”

“You needed help and I’m always happy to be there for you. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

You’re too good to be true, he thinks. 

“Can we talk… about us?” he asks with so much caution, it’s far from the confident man you’re used to.

“Do you want to? We can… have a conversation later, when you’re feeling better, I mean.”

“I would never miss a chance to clear things up with you.”

“Okay,” you nod, putting down the fork to give him your undivided attention. He clears his throat again and takes a deep breath before speaking up.

“So, how have you been feeling? Is the break what you really wanted? It’s doing good to you?”

“I really needed it. But it’s been hard, to be honest. I miss you. A lot.”

Hearing your words is like a relief to him, but he knows he can’t be sure just yet he can win you over.

“So then… where are you standing right now?”

You sigh as you lean back in your chair, staring down at your half eaten breakfast. It’s a tough question and you don’t want to give him or yourself false hope about the future.

“I honestly don’t know. I know that I miss you and I love you a lot, but I also know we can’t go back to how it was.”

“Yeah, agreed,” he nods. “I just want you to know that I fully understand the issues you told me about. I know that I suck at communicating and I will try my best to get better. For you and for us, because you deserve the best. And I want to be that for you.”

You know his words are not just empty promises, he truly means them. Harry would do anything to have you back, you’re just not sure you’re ready to give him your all.

“I need to figure it out. How we can make things work and I need to do it alone. I know it sucks, but I truly think this is what we have to do now in order to move on together.”

It hurts to know he needs to wait some more, but if it means you’ll find your way back to him, he would do anything. So he nods and takes a deep breath, swallowing the urge to cry that’s been creeping up his throat. 

You finish breakfast together and have a little chat to catch up before you head back home, leaving Harry on his own again. He doesn’t call you again in the middle of the night, just waits for you patiently.

Two weeks go by and he starts to worry that you changed your mind and don’t want to give it another try. He doesn’t hear from you and he fights the urge to reach out, wanting to let you heal and grow at your own pace.

But then you show up unannounced.

He has just gotten home from the studio, working on some new music that was obviously inspired by you. He plans on doing absolutely nothing, just watching TV and then going to bed, but then his plans get interrupted by the sound of a car parking down on his driveway. He recognizes your car as he peeks out through the window and his heart starts racing right away, thinking of all the possibilities, you could be visiting him for. He opens the door before you could even ring the bell and seeing you standing on his doormat fills his chest with joy and worry at the same time, but when he sees a wide smile spread across your face, relief washes over him.

“Hey, sorry for dropping by so unannounced, but I was nearby.”

“Don’t worry about it, come on in,” he invites you in, even though you don’t feel like a guest here, it’s more like home. 

He offers you a drink or snacks, but you refuse as the two of you get comfortable on his couch. He waits patiently for you to find your words and start speaking whenever you feel like you’re ready.

“Um, I wasn’t even nearby, I just came to see you,” you admit with a nervous chuckle and Harry’s heart skips a beat. In a sense, it feels like when before you just started dating, the nervous jitters, the shaky breaths, it takes you both back in time. “I wanted to talk, I’ve been thinking a lot since the last time we saw each other.”

“And… have you come to a conclusion?” he nervously asks.

“Yeah,” you nod, biting into your bottom lip. “I, uhh… If you still haven’t changed your mind, I would love to start a–”

You don’t get to finish, Harry’s lips smack against yours, his large hands holding your face as if it was the most precious treasure in the world. The words die on your tongue as it melts against his in a smearing kiss, your hands grabbing his shirt and fisting it as you pull him closer until he is practically lying on top of you. 

“Sorry,” he breathes out when he pulls back for some air. “I got a bit carried away and didn’t let you finish,” he chuckles, but you shake your head.

“You can always cut me off like this,” you gasp for air and pull him back for another passionate kiss.

It takes some time for the two of you to let go of each other and at last you settle sitting on his lap, facing him, your hands holding onto the base of his neck while his fingers are gently caressing your thighs on either side of him. 

“We can’t go back to how we were, Harry. It doesn’t work,” you tell him, your voice barely more than just a whisper. 

“I know. We’ll figure it out. Together,” he answers and leaning closer he steals a short kiss. Now that he has you back he can’t stop kissing you, not that you mind it.

“Together,” you smile at him, feeling excited and hopeful about the future.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[ughsimpp]

can't sleep

word: 733

genre: smut

paring: soft-dom! hongjoong x fem!reader

disclaimer: late night fuck,f!receiving, cum on stomach, teasing, marking, slight chest play, rough f.uck

[ DO NO REPOST!!! ]

masterlist

the night was rainy and wet. you loved the way the rain just hit the window and how clamming it was. whenever it rained, you'll be able to sleep but for some reason tonight, you couldn't sleep. you tossed and turned but nothing worked, you even tried flipping your pillow to the cold side. you were sleeping with your boyfriend hongjoong. you turned over to look at him to see if he was awake, he wasn't, he was asleep.

you exhaled out loud, stressing out bc you couldn't sleep, you didn't know why but it was hard to fall asleep tonight. you cuddle next to hongjoong and softly whispered,

"hongjoong.....i can't sleep...."

no answer. you tried again,

"joongie..i can't sleep..."

you nudged him a little bit as this time he finally heard you.

"mhm?...you can't sleep? lemme cuddle you more maybe you can fall asleep in my arms.."

he replied in a sleepy tone. you sat up, looking down at him.

"i already tired that, it didn't work. and you know usually the sound of rain will make me fall asleep instantly..."

"did you wanna watch tv or something or did you want some warm tea? maybe that'll help.."

he voice was soft yet sleepy.

"i dunno, you have anymore suggestions to me?"

hongjoong took a long pause, he finally spoke again.

"if you can't sleep....then how bout we fuck?"

he suggested a bold statement, shocked on what he said,

"at this time? hongjoong it 2 in the morning, and i'm pretty sure your tired to even do anything like that.."

hongjoong got up and hovered over you down,

"oh we'll see about that y/n.."

this time his tone changed which kinda gave you an exciting feeling. he began kissing your lips softly as it got more intense. hongjoong moves down from your lips to your neck, filling up your sweet spot making you moan.

"ahh...hongjoong..."

you felt him massaging your breast while leaving wet kisses on your neck. you weren't wearing a bra to sleep because it always felt uncomfortable wearing it to bed, so all you had on was a big t-shirt and panties. he took off your shirt, revealing your perfect boobs and soon enough, he started attacking them like it was his last meal. he left hickies on them, giving you a sensation that you never wanted to end.

he backed away, looking down at the masterpiece he made. he smirked and grabbed the side of your panties and threw them somewhere in the room.

"y/n baby...your already wet. dripping wet just from me sucking your tits and giving you hickies. you're such a naughty girl."

hongjoong went down near your inner thighs and kissed them slowly until he reached your core. his hot breath was making you impatient.

"hongjoong...please hurry..."

you plead, he smirked and started giving you kitty licks on your core. you started moan out his name. you loved the way he eat you out, always hitting the right spots.

"joong..i'm gon-gonna cum.."

you tried to say but then as soon as you were about to come, he stopped what he was doing. you looked at him, confused.

"hey i was about to-ahh!!"

you didn't get to finish what you were say because of his hard thrust. it was unexpected, and he didn't give you a warning. he heard him groan out loud as well.

"fuck your so tight.."

you needed a few seconds to adjust, you nodded to show him that you were ready. he started thrusting, his pace was slowly but powerful. soft whimpers and raspy groans filled up the room.

"hongjoong...please...can you go faster..?"

without hesitation he quickly picked up his pace and started thrusting faster and harder, sending you to the edge of coming again.

"oh god hongjoong im about to come!!!!!"

you yelled out loud. feeling your orgasm coming in close. hongjoong leaned in closer giving you kisses while your arms wrapped around his neck. you left scratches on his back from how close you were.

"hongjoong..."

"cum, cum for me."

seconds later you came around his cock. you walls tighten up making hongjoong groan out. a few more thrust as he pulled out cumming onto your stomach. the view of his cum all over your stomach and how amazing you looked after a good fuck make him satisfied. hongjoong grabbed some tissues to wipe you down. he came down and kissed you.

"i think i can fall asleep now.."

you said in a soft tone, softly closing your eyes

"wasn't my suggestion a great idea?"

he gave you soft kiss on your forehead as you snuggled into his arms, drifting to sleep.

[nctsworld]

two nights, one you

✩‌ jaemin ‌x‌ ‌reader‌ ‌|‌ fuckboy!jaemin | strangers (who f*ck) to (brief) enemies to lovers | ‌10.9k 

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ a last-minute one night stand gone awry is extended into two nights when you’re snowed in at the cute (but rude) stranger’s apartment on christmas eve. [loosely based on the movie, two night stand] // part of the x-mas in ncity collection  GENRES ⇾ crack | smut | fluff  WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ ‌lots of bickering and dialogue, smut, oral s*x (f and m receiving), fingering, mentions of alcohol/drinking, swearing, bit of angst before the end, jaemin’s an asshole... or is he? RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ explicit TAGLIST ⇾‌ @infnteen​ 

AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ it’s late (and long fsldkm), srysry but here it is! i hope the humour comes out in this and look away if falls flat zzz fingers crossed that i can finish the last two installments for this collection asap! 

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t repost or share without credit!

Maybe it’s because it’s the evening of Christmas Eve Eve and you’re feeling more lonely than usual.

Maybe it’s due to the two glasses of wine you guzzled down in the span of fifteen minutes that get you buzzed.

Maybe it’s your prominent six-month dry spell and you’re in desperate need for some much needed rain in your drought.    

Or maybe it’s just pure impulsiveness.

Regardless of the reasons, you’re aiming to get laid tonight.  

It’s 9:45pm as you make the rounds on Tinder. You’ve used it in the past, searching for a relationship in vain, but haven’t used it much since you broke up with your last partner. Bringing the app alive again, you’re already bombarded by distasteful messages, off-putting one-liners and jokes, and swiping left more than you’d like.

You haven’t had a one-night stand before, but isn’t there anyone on here that is just a little bit attractive, nearby where you are, around your age, and is somewhat chivalrous about the topic besides saying DTF? Maybe you need to lower your standards if you want to get dicked down tonight.

But then, you land on him.

One Na Jaemin, 20 years old, and only four miles away from you.

Scrolling through his profile pictures and Instagram feed, you assume that he’s into photography, is on the athletic side from the various hobbies he partakes in, and he must be at least half-aware of his beauty because there’s the occasional pic that shows off his lean, toned arms, which, if you can be frank, is more flattering than the shirtless ones you constantly see. Oh, and he attends the same university as you.

The cherry on top? His bio is simple and upfront:

“Not up for anything serious, but always down for a good time ;)”

You swipe right without hesitation.

“It’s a Match!” flashes instantly at you. Your mouth swings open in disbelief.  

Usually, you’d wait for your matches to message you and play hard-to-get, but not tonight. Tonight, you’re initiating and leading all the conversations, completely driven by your thirst.  

Messaging Jaemin is a breeze. He types with more than half a brain, and he flirts, but it isn’t overwhelming or repulsive. Segueing the current topic, you drag your bottom lip upward as you send the following message:  

so, hypothetically... if one were to have good time with you would tonight work?

Not even twenty seconds later and he replies with:

-wow, dont you go straight to the point -im impressed -but yeah -tonight works ;)

He’s quick to send his address.

-let me know when ur here and ill come get you out front!

Smacking your lips together, you squeal to yourself in the comfort of your home, excited to meet with him, but then a thought hangs over you—this feels a little too good to be true. Horrible scenarios run through your head, so your fingers dash across your phone’s keyboard:

tbh i haven’t really done this b4 so im kinda new to this is it ok if we video call or smth? gotta make sure you’re real and not a serial killer i’m sure you understand 😛

-for sure for sure -totally get it -ive had my fair share of fake girls and serial killers so i feel u 😛

Grateful for his consideration, you rush to rearrange your hair after you send him a Zoom link, hoping you look decent enough to not have him back off from his initial offer. He appears in the video call on his phone with the front-facing camera on a few seconds after you connect.

“Hi,” you chirp.

A corner of his mouth lifts. “Hey.”  

Okay, he’s definitely cuter in real-time than in his pictures.  

“You know, I’m not gonna lie, but I lowkey expected to see a dick or something,” you joke in an attempt to dispel your nervousness.  

“Same,” he chuckles, running a hand through his black hair.

Oh God, he’s not just cute—he’s devastatingly gorgeous.

“So, this is my place...”

Jaemin moves around with his apartment in the background, revealing his living room first. Envy prods you as you note the brick walls, high ceiling windows, and well-appointed furnishings.

Recalling his address, you ask, “How’d you get a place in the heart of the city?”

“Lucked out,” he shrugs. His phone shakes a bit as he’s still moving. “My friend slash roommate—who is at his girlfriend’s place tonight, so we have the place all to ourselves—his parents own the condo and they gave me a friend discount on the rent.”

He finally stands in one place and turns the light on to reveal a room. “And this is my bedroom.”

Nothing out of the ordinary. A desk table with a gaming set-up, in tow with a gamer chair, and a decently-sized bed beside a nightstand.

“Oh, and here’s my closet.” Jaemin’s on the move again as he opens his closet doors. “Just to make sure you don’t think I hide the skins of my past one-nighters in here.”

A bubbly laugh rises from you. “Okay, I didn’t think of that before, but now you’ve planted the seed in my head. Maybe you hide them in the other rooms.”

“Nah, my roommate would kill me if I did.”

Both of you laugh in unison, and you bob your head with puffed cheeks.  

“Okay, it all seems very promising. I’m going to get ready and I’ll guess I’ll see you in a bit, Jaemin.”

“Sounds good,” Jaemin nods, then winks. Although you’re sitting down, he’s still able to get you weak in the knees. “See you soon.”

You end the call and rush to bundle up for the snow starting to come down outside. A twenty-minute train ride later, you’re at the front door of a rustic, industrial apartment complex. After informing Jaemin you’re outside, you glance up at the snowflakes falling from the dark pink-grey sky, anticipating for what comes next.

Sex with a hot guy, what can go wrong?  

So, you must’ve jinxed it because the sex is...  

Unsatisfying. Finished faster than you’d like it to be. Sadly, overall disappointing. If you had to rate it, three out of five stars, at best.

But hey, he came, and you sort of did, and it wasn’t the worst sex you’ve ever had. It half-quenched your dry spell.

And enough happened that it tired you out, leaving you passed out in the handsome stranger’s bed until morning.

In the morning, your eyes slowly flicker, unused to the foreign, sweet scent engulfing you in your bed. Correction: Jaemin’s bed.

Your eyes flicker faster as you glance through the almost wall-sized window. The snow hasn’t let up from last night. On the contrary, it seems like it’s snowing non-stop. You groan at the thought of going home in this weather.

The bed is without Jaemin’s presence as you reach for your phone on the nightstand. 10:36AM and a few notifications greet you. You rub your eyes and start combing through them, rising upward to sit up on the bed.

“Morning. You’re finally up.”

Peering up from your device, Jaemin’s standing by the door with folded arms. His plain sweater and sweatpants match the colour of his hair. The dazzling smile he gives is so contagious, you’re not even conscious of catching one too.  

“Out you go.”

You blink.

Once, twice, and then you tilt your head as you stare blankly at him, uncertain if you heard him correctly.

After a few moments, because you’re not moving an inch, his smile dissipates and he cocks an eyebrow in expectancy. A serious expression rolls over his face.  

Suddenly, Jaemin strolls to the side of the bed and hitches his thumb towards the door.

You definitely heard him right.

And he’s dead-serious.

You replay the video call from last night, dissecting how you thought he was nice and funny and—

Realization dawns on you.

Why would you expect anything more from a two-faced fuck boy?

Still awestruck by the situation, you’re still solid as a statue, so Jaemin takes matters into his own hands and grasps you by your elbow, casually dragging you from his bed like he’s taking out the trash.  

“What the fuck?!” you screech.

“C’mon, let’s go. Out out.”

“My clothes, though!” you protest in the middle of the hallway. He sighs in frustration, scurries to the bedroom, and returns with a small pile in his arms, then continues to drag you to the front door.  

“Are you always this pleasant with your guests the morning after?” you rage, putting on the rest of your clothes by the door. “You don’t even have the decency to offer me tea or coffee?”

“This was a one-night stand, not a bed and breakfast, sunshine,” he says as he watches you put your shoes on. He’s folding his arms again and leaning against the wall, his attitude dripping with smug. If he wasn’t a stranger, you’d punch it off his face. “You weren’t kidding when you said you were new to this, huh?”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!”

“It means you’re a borderline virgin who needs to toodle-loo, get going and gone because you’re overstaying your welcome as we speak.”

Finishing putting on your coat, you’re fuming as your jaw hangs at the personal jab over your skills in bed. Jaemin swings the door open and shoves you through it.

“But I’ll admit, it was still nice having sex with you!” he chimes with a sickening grin and a hand on the door.  

“Aw, thanks asshole, wish I could say the same,” you sarcastically reply, resting a palm upon your chest.  

He scoffs. “From what I heard last night, I think I can confidently say that you had a great time.”

Flashbacks replay in your mind of your screaming fest from underneath him. Little did Jaemin actually know—

“You know, for someone who I assume has many one-night stands,” you spit with squinted eyes. “I’m surprised you can’t tell when girls fake it.”

You must’ve hit a sore spot because he grinds his teeth and you could almost see the steam coming out of his ears.

Oh yeah, you’re definitely the winner in this fight.

“Okay, you know what, Merry Christmas and fuck you. Have a great life!”

“Fuck you, dickface. Wishing you a miserable Christmas!”

With a bitter smile, you flip him off as he slams the door in your face.

Carrying a basket filled with dirty clothes, Jaemin’s on the way down to the laundry room in the basement of his apartment with his shoulder scrunched up, squeezing his phone to his ear.

“Bro, she had the audacity to say that I didn’t make her come when she was screaming my God damn ear off—”

As he steps down the short flight of stairs and passes by the foyer area by the main entrance to the building, he notices you’re still here.

“Shit, uh, Jeno,” he mumbles. “I’m gonna have to call you back.”

He stuffs his phone into the pocket of his sweats and calls out to you as he strides closer. “Are you resorting to stalking me by my front door now?”

With crossed arms, you peer over your shoulder, eyes full of bitterness.

“Like I wanna be anywhere near you right now,” you grumble. You jerk your head towards the thick, wooden door. “It’s jammed from the snow.”

The laundry carrier shakes his head and places the basket onto the floor. “A little snow never hurt anyone. You’re probably just too weak.”

Stepping aside and holding out an arm, you signal for him to give it a try.

Jaemin twists the handle and, lo and behold, it doesn’t open. His forehead crinkles as he tries again and again, using more force each time.

Glancing through one of the partially frosted windows adjacent to the sides of the door, he notices the snow has piled enormously high, almost to the height of his chest.

“Well, shit.”  

Reluctantly, Jaemin brings you back to his apartment. You’re technically his guest and if he left you in the foyer to freeze, trouble would surely come his way, whether it be in the form of his landlords (also known as his roommate’s parents) or the police.

Without a word, he settles a spoon in a bowl, a carton of milk, and a box of cereal onto the small kitchen table.

At first, you stare at it venomously in rejection, thinking you can easily last a day without any hand-outs from this son of a bitch, but your stomach roars ferociously three seconds later.

As you chew across from him, you enjoy the company of your phone over him, while he does the same but with a cup of coffee in hand.

After finishing your food, you adamantly place your phone down and lean back into the chair, boring holes into his head.

“Why are you such an asshole?” you seethe observantly.

“Why are you such a bitch?” he retorts, not pulling his gaze away from his phone.

“Because you started it,” you say slowly, stating the obvious.

“No, you.”

You sigh defeatedly at his childish behaviour. The weather apps predict the snow will (hopefully) die down by tomorrow morning, thus you’re officially stuck with him for the next twenty-four hours or so. Your hands rake through your hair.

“Whether we like it or not, the snow isn’t going away until tomorrow. Merry Christmas Eve to us, I guess.”

He’s still glued to his phone. You exhale another sigh.

“Since we’re not getting out of this until then, can we just...” You soften your voice. “Start over?”

His eyes are still on the screen, but from the way his shoulders tense and how he stops scrolling, you know he’s considering your proposition.

“At least call a stalemate over this.” You drift your hand in the air, gesturing between you and him.

Blowing out air and shaking his head, he rests his phone onto the table.

“Fine.”

He crosses his arms, imitating you, and the two of you sit there, staring at each other in a long silence.  

One minute, to be exact.

You’re the one to break the silence game by running your hands over your face, letting out a hybrid of a groan and laugh.

“God, the fact that we had sex makes this kinda awkward, huh?”

Jaemin’s exterior melts slightly, letting out a snicker. He shrugs, “Then let’s just pretend that we didn’t have sex.”

“We can’t just pretend that we didn’t have sex,” you say, holding two upturned palms near your face.

“We did it, it’s done. I’ve seen your penis, you kicked me out, and you labelled me a prude—” You dart a finger towards him. “—which I am far from, by the way. All of those are pretty huge things.”

One of the corners of his mouth raises high. “Are you saying my penis is huge?”

“No, the implication of said penis is huge. Wipe that smirk off your face.”

He stretches an arm, holding an imaginary microphone to your face. “Do you deny that my penis is huge?”

Rolling your eyes, you swat his fist away. “What am I, on trial here?”

“Do you plead the fifth then?”

Annoyed, you roll your eyes again. Why do you get the feeling that you’re probably going to be doing this a lot more today? Another feeling tells you that if you don’t answer his question, he’ll probably pester you until you do.

You tilt your head side to side. “It’s... decently sized.”

“Bigger or smaller than average?”

“Perfect...” His eyes light up. “...ly average.” And a frown rolls over.

He squints his eyes accusingly at your sneer. “Are you lying like you did before about faking it?”

You scoff. “I wasn’t lying about faking it, and I’m not lying now about your average sized dick.”

Jaemin releases a disgruntled grumble and lifts his cup to his face. You notice he likes to take his coffee black and bitter, presumably like his heart.

“So, Miss I’m-Not-A-Prude-and-I’ve-Definitely-Had-Sex-Before.” His eyebrows perk up on the word definitely. “What’s your story? Why the last minute one-night stand?”

Shrugging your shoulders to your ears, you reply, “Haven’t had sex in a while.”

“When’s the last time you had sex?” he asks mid-sip.

“Half a year ago,” you respond nonchalantly, perching your chin into your palms.

Jaemin immediately chokes, almost spraying the coffee through his nose.

“Half a year?!” he gasps. It takes him a few hits to his chest to dispel the coughing. “Six months?!”

“Wow, you can count!” you exclaim in a condescending tone. You change the position of your hands so that your chin is now atop of the back of your curled fingers and tilt your head. “Can you also spell?”

“As a premed student, I can assure you that I am capable of doing both,” he says with a slight strain due to the coughing fit. The humble brag brings on another eye roll. Of course he’s a premed student with the attitude he wears.

“It’s just—” He clears his throat and swallows the last bit of coffee stuck in his windpipe. “—The last time I had a dry spell was for like, a month, tops.”

So the fuckboy gets laid way more on the daily than you expect. You’re torn between being envious over how much action he gets in comparison to you, or remorseful, since you’re now just one of the many notches on his bedpost.

No matter, sarcasm is always the best defence mechanism.

“Good for you, Jaemin. I’m sure you’re very proud of that.”

There’s an awkward beat. His head hangs for a moment while his thumbs stroke the sides of his cup. A strange pinch of guilt occurs. Did you overstep an unspoken line? But then he drags himself back to reality in a heartbeat.

Jaemin brings the cup to his mouth again, mumbling, “At least the sex on your part makes more sense now; you’re rusty as fuck.”

Completely aware of what he said, you trash your guilt entirely and narrow your eyes. “What did you just say?”

Following a long sip, he hums, “Mmm, nothing.” Soon after, he stands up with his cup.

“I’m gonna go game now. Feel free to watch Netflix on the TV and stay in the living room.”

As if you had anywhere else to go...  

He begins to walk towards his room as you mutter under your breath, “I’m not a dog.”

“Says the bitch,” he pipes up, taking you by surprise.  

“Thought we had a stalemate?!” you shout, leaning your head forward as you watch him entering his room.  

“Doesn’t mean we’re on peaceful terms!” he sing-shouts.

The flinging of the closed door echoes throughout the apartment.

Regret surges through you. You just had to choose a fuckboy fluent in assholery and end up incidentally being isolated with him during a snow storm on Christmas Eve.

You wonder if you can handle being around him for the next twenty-four hours without killing him first.

During the afternoon, you’re on the living room couch, playing a show as mostly background noise while you’re on your phone. At one point, your phone unsurprisingly begins to die and you tread over to Jaemin’s door to ask for a charger and if you can also take a shower. He’s still annoyed by your existence, but at least he hands you a charger and lets you know where the extra towels are.

Stepping into the living room with the towel in your hand as you dry your hair off, you peer out the large living room window and see nothing but white engulfing the streets and buildings as far as the eye can see.

You pray the snow will eventually stop as soon as possible so you can head back home.

By the middle of the afternoon, Jaemin emerges from his bedroom and shocks you by plopping down on the opposite end of the living room couch from where you’re sitting.

“Bored?” you ask, eyes fixated on the TV screen.

“Nope,” he replies, popping the p as he says it. His slings his arm around the top of the couch.

“Gotta keep an eye on you in case you do something.” Turning away from the screen, he faces you and motions circles with his hand. “You’ve got a little crazy in you, I can feel it.”

You quickly glance over at him, but try to refocus on the TV. “Need I remind you that you’re the crazy one, dragging me out of the apartment right as I woke up.”

That compels him to turn his whole body towards you. “Well, you’re the one who wanted a last-minute one-night stand.”

You match his stance. “As if I’m the first girl in your bed to stay in the morning?”

“Actually, yeah.” He aggressively tilts his head to one side. “Most girls leave before I even get up. The other percentage don’t fight me when I ask for them to go, so it looks like you’re the odd one out.”  

You press your lips together, refusing to admit that maybe he has a point, under the assumption that he’s telling the truth.

Jaemin twists his body back to the screen and adds, “I make it very clear on my profile that I don’t do morning afters, sweetheart.”

And you agree that his profile is clear about his intentions, but that doesn’t mean you can condone his shitty behaviour.

“Well, sorry that I expected just an ounce of respect instead of getting kicked to the curb after you stuck your dick in me,” you grumble, shifting back to the show and crossing your arms.

“Morning afters lead to attachments, and attachments lead to feelings, and feelings lead to relationships,” he says the string of words clinically, as if it’s a mantra that he lives by.

Your eyebrows knit together as you whip your head towards him once more, studying him.

“And what’s so wrong with that?”

Deliberately averting your gaze, Jaemin grates his tongue between his teeth, a slight tsk audibly heard, and his chin juts out. There’s definitely a story behind his ways. He huffs and changes the subject.  

“Seriously?” He holds a hand out. “You’re watching this trashy show?”

Squinting your eyes at him, you could probably interrogate him further, but you decide otherwise.  

“It may be trashy,” you concur, looking at the TV. “But it’s my trashy comfort show.”

Following an over-the-top acted out scene between the show’s main love interests, Jaemin shoots up from the couch.

“Yeah, no, I can’t handle this. Can we either put on something else or game or something?”

“Why don’t you go back to your room to game, Mr. I’m-Not-Bored?”

“Like I said, I gotta keep an eye on you,” he says while bending over in front of the TV, already setting up the Playstation. He tosses you a controller as he strides to his side of the couch again.

He mumbles to himself, “Need to make sure you don’t go crazy from the lack of human interaction.”

Either Jaemin is selfish and only looking out for himself, or he wants to make sure you’re not feeling lonely in a stranger’s home.

Likely the first reason, you deduce—because why would a guy like Jaemin care about a mere one-night stand?

Admittedly, you’re not the best at games, especially at fighting ones. You can comprehend the move lists, but you like to live by button smashing the controller and repeating moves over and over.  

So it’s hilarious when you beat Jaemin every round with your surprisingly fruitful technique.

“Okay, this is bullshit,” Jaemin complains, sticking his tongue out in irritation. His ass is currently being handed to him on a plate again since you’re almost done killing his character off. “You must be lying to me; you have to be a pro player or some shit.”

Jaemin’s health bar is dangerously low as your character jabs his with a sword. He winces out loud and you snicker.

“Why do you think I always lie about everything?! Dude, you have serious trust issues,” you joke before you steal the opportunity to slice his character. One more hit and he’s done for.

“I do not! I just—nooo!”

You rise to your feet and pump your arms in the air, turning in circles in joy over yet another win.

Sulking, Jaemin eyes your little dance from his end on the couch, but as he watches you more, a feeling balloons in his chest. Something he hasn’t felt in a long time.

Finally coming down from your post-win high, you spot an emerging grin from the corner of your eye, making you pause.    

“What?” you eye him suspiciously.

Your suspicion pops the sensation in his chest and, like a fish out of water, his eyes widen and his grin melts away.

“Nothing, uhm.” He ruffles his eyebrows and palms the back of his neck, quickly facing the TV. “Let’s go one more round and then we can switch to another game—”

Suddenly, the TV and surrounding lights switch off. Both of you waver your eyes, anticipating for them to come back on, but they unfortunately don’t.  

Jaemin rushes over to the window. When he swivels his head towards you, his face darkens.

“Looks like it’s at least the whole block. The streetlights are out too.”

Without another word, he dashes to the linen closet and brings back several blankets. He calmly explains that there won’t be heat since it’s connected to the electricity, so it’d be best to keep warm with the extra layers.

Not wanting to scare you, he doesn’t add the fact that due to the huge windows in the apartment, more unnecessary cold air will come in, but you’re already cognizant of it from your own logic and since the remaining heat dissolves rapidly.

You groan and retreat into the massive blanket over your shoulders, turtling your head.

You can’t believe you’re going to fucking die in this asshole’s apartment on Christmas Eve.

On the ends of the couch in your makeshift blanket jackets, both of you attend to your phones for a while.

From what people and the news outlets are saying, it’s not just the block, but the whole city grid is out. You frantically text your friends, giving updates on how you are and half-jokingly telling them that you’re going to die with your dreadful one-night stand. Some time passes and Jaemin tosses his phone  off to one side.  

“Well, since there’s nothing else to do and we should probably conserve our phone batteries—” You glance up at him from your phone and pout. Slowly nodding in agreement, you toss it aside too. “—why don’t we play a game of ‘I’ll-Give-You-Pointers-on-How-to-be-Better-in-Bed’?”

A smile burgeons on his irritatingly handsome face and your eyes roll. At this point, you wonder if the reaction is conditioned into you. “It’ll be my early Christmas gift to you.”

“Wow, so thoughtful, how could I ever thank you?” You drag the blanket closer to your chest in false gratitude.

You think for a serious moment if you really want to go through with this. Hearing Jaemin run his mouth on you unwarranted is already painful, but to give him the go-ahead to do so? Especially criticizing your skills in bed?  

You blow out a sigh, noting the slightly visible cloud. You’re grateful Jaemin has thick, downy blankets.  

Well, if you’re going to die, may as well know what went wrong, right?

“Fine, but if we’re playing this game, we have to say everything honestly and take the criticism we get.” You point a stern finger. “No rebuttals, just acceptance.”

“Wait.” Jaemin crinkles his face in genuine confusion as his hand peeks out from his blanket.

“You have things to criticize about me in bed?”

Your lips tremble before you burst into laughter. Displeasure is on Jaemin’s tight-lipped face as you laugh for a while, almost keeling over in your blanket ball onto the hardwood floor. “How conceited are you, oh, my fucking God?”

He slices his hand through the air. “I’ve never had any complaints—”

“Because you’re too busy focusing on your own orgasm, you selfish dickwad,” you say as your laughter dies down.  

He sits in his snit for a few more moments until he gets over it.

“Fine, fine,” he huffs. Jaemin knows he’s not going to enjoy this, but he’s the one who suggested it. He can’t back out now. “Let’s just get this over with, you go first.”

With your blanket held by your chest, you hop off your end of the couch and shuffle over in front of him where he’s seated. Beaming, you begin.

“Let’s start with foreplay.” Jaemin’s eyes light up with confidence, thinking he’s at least decent with that. You crush his expression as your lips purse and you shake your head.

“Non-existent.”

“What do you mean?! I kissed you as you took off your clothes.”

You stick your free hand out from your blanket, extending your index finger.

“One: you only kissed my lips. You know, there are other parts of me to kiss, like, I don’t know, my neck, my arms, my shoulders.”

You extend another finger. “And, two: it’s weird to not help someone take off their clothes. Like you’re in a super rush to get somewhere or something—”

“We’re fucking!” he cuts in sharply. “This is a one-night stand, not a relationship.”

Closing your eyes and dropping your head, you pinch the bridge of your nose. You sigh in exaggeration.

“Thought we agreed no rebuttals...” you softly sing-say.  

Jaemin’s head sinks a little into his blanket. “Sorry.”

Removing your hand, you shrug. “Maybe there’s some rule that I don’t know about one-night stands, so this could be on me.”

You start to aimlessly tread back and forth in front of him, dragging the blanket along too. “But fuck, foreplay is foreplay for a reason. You work your way up to the heat of the moment and it makes sex much better, regardless if you’re in a relationship with the person or not.”

“Next point.” You stop walking and direct your focus on him. Pointing your finger and looking him dead in the eye, you ask, “Do you know what a vagina is?”

He snorts with a simper. “Uhhh, is this a rhetorical question?”

“No, I’m legit asking,” you say with a raised eyebrow and snarky smile. “Because when you went down on me, all you flicked your tongue at was the outside of it, also called the labia if you didn’t know.”

“I’m premed, of course I—”

“Which is great! But you didn’t go any deeper nor did you go near my clit.”

You thrust your finger again. “Do you also know what that is?”

“Yes...” he groans with the flickering eyelids.

You swipe your arm through the air. “Maybe make use of it, and not only when you go down on girls. Even during sex, touching it is great.”

“And lastly,” you continue. “I’ll be honest here, you have a decent dick.”

Jaemin waggles his finger. “So you were lying before—”

“I wasn’t lying,” you retort firmly. “But anyways, you’ve got the stuff, but why don’t you put it to better use?”

With the following words, you attempt to gesture with your body and execute moves as graphic visuals. Jaemin giggles at the sight.

“Vary the speeds and the angle, don’t just slam it in me and go crazy fast from the get-go. Build up to the climax. Jesus, I couldn’t even get close to coming because you’re like a jackhammer from start to finish.”

When you finally finish, Jaemin’s giggles morph into hollow laughs. Frustration is blatant on your face, pondering if he even absorbed a single word you said.  

After he calms down, he asks, “Are you done?”

You mumble, “Yeah, I think so.”

The two of you switch places. He shuffles onto his feet with his blanket while you sit back on the couch.

Jaemin pulls the blanket across the floor as he ambles. “Okay, your head game is decent—”

“Excuse you, my head game is strong.”

“Uh-uh, rebuttal,” he points out.  

You sigh. Pinching your fingers together, you drag the invisible zipper across your mouth, then wave your hand, allowing him to resume.

“Your head game is decent. You definitely can deepthroat, but—” He mirrors you from before and extends his index finger.

“One: this happened only a few times, but your teeth scraped against my dick, which is why I assumed you were a borderline virgin.”

You fume silently at the accusation, attempting to not speak up with a heap of rebuttals. But he wasn’t wrong—if you teethed on his dick, that’s a classic virgin move.

“But that’s okay, because we already established that you’re just rusty.” Jaemin flashes you a fake comforting smile as he continues to pace. You flash him one back.

“And two—” He holds another finger out. “Don’t be scared to use your hands and stroke me. Give my dick some love. If it’s too wet, just wipe your hands on the bed or something.”

“Okay, duly noted,” you hum. “Next.”

“Don’t be scared to touch me.”

“I touched you so much during—”

He shoots you a glare. You roll your mouth inward, your lips disappearing instantly.

“Your hands were mostly on the sheets, which is hot, but guys like to be felt up too.”

The attractive individual peers up for a second, thinking to himself. “Even hotter when a girl feels herself up during the fucking, but that’s beside the point. Baby steps, just remember to touch the other person.”

Jaemin does a full-stop and faces you.

“And just... don’t fake it.” Distress is evident in his pout. You hate to admit it, but it’s a little cute. He raises an arm and jerks it in the air. “Why do girls fake it?”

“Because guys with egos like you can’t handle criticism,” you reply bluntly.  

“What are we doing, having this conversation, hm?”

“We wouldn’t be having this conversation if it didn’t snow in and keep us here together.” You peel a hand away and gesture to the window. “If I walked out of here this morning, you would’ve just fucked the next girl the same.”

He defends himself, “Faking it just feeds our egos.”

“Yeah, well, if I told you afterwards that I didn’t come, what would you do?”

“Try to make you come in other ways?”

Shaking your head, you scoff. “Guys like you aren’t that considerate.”

“You’re right.” He assents, holding his pointer finger against his chest. “Because guys like me aim to please.”

A brilliant thought leaps in his mind and Jaemin gasps. You can only assume bad things from the wicked smile he sends your way.  

“Why don’t we try it again?”

Perplexed, you squint at him.

“Try what again...?”

“Sex,” he says enthusiastically.

You blankly stare at him.

“You’ve gotta be joking,” you deadpan.

“I mean, there’s nothing else to do and it’ll keep us warm.” 

You continue to stare at him until you groan.

“Oh, my God...” Your blanket droops a bit off your shoulders as you drag your palms across your face. “I cannot believe I’m stuck in this snowstorm with you out of all people...”

Sitting next to you, Jaemin persistently reasons with you. “Think of it also as another learning experience for the future partners we’ll have.”

“Yeah, if we don’t die first!” you shriek.

“We’re not going to die,” Jaemin replies in a mocking tone and a dart of his tongue.  

Outside the window, the snow seems to have slowed down, but not by much.  

God, Jaemin better be fucking right because you want to live to see another day.  

“Fine,” you mutter and match his gaze. “But we have to be vocal throughout the whole thing. Say whatever’s on our mind.”

“Fine,” he agrees to your terms. He produces the same wicked smile again. “But can we film it then? So we can study it after?”

You fire him a death glare that melts his face off, even in the frigid atmosphere.

“I’m joking, I’m joking,” he says, waving his hand.

They say that jokes are half-meant true, but you think Jaemin fully meant it. Still in your blanket jackets, Jaemin snags your free hand and leads you to his room.

“You gotta give me credit for trying, though.”

“No.” You shake your head with an unwilling smile creeping on the edge of your lips. On second thought, maybe the joke was a little funny, but you still stand by your opinion that he’s the most annoying person in the world. “I don’t think I will.”

“Thank God Chenle has so many scented candles...”

On the edge of Jaemin’s bed, huddled by the blanket, you watch him light up several large jars, placing them on his nightstand and desk in hopes to brighten the room. It’s already late afternoon, but one could mistaken it for nighttime with the muddy sky due to the snow.

“Is Chenle your roommate?”

“Yeah,” Jaemin answers with a slight shiver, igniting the last candle near the bedside. He removed his blanket when he went to nab the matches and candles. “His girlfriend gets free ones from work, so she always gives him a shit ton, even though he never uses them.”

With a glowing hue against his face, he blows out the match. He makes his way to you, a cocky grin plastered on him, as he says, “Guess we’re making use of them now, though.”

Before you can even respond, Jaemin gets right down to business—sitting beside you on the mattress, he palms your face and drags you in for a kiss. You softly yelp, but immediately reciprocate.

The cover falls off your body as you reach to touch him, fingers drifting over his solid arms.

You don’t want to stroke his large ego, and maybe it’s because you haven’t had anyone else on you in a while, but Jaemin’s kisses are something else.

The cushiony pair of lips always executes enough pressure against your mouth, increasing and decreasing on command in perfect tandem and timing. His hands hover over your waist and the nape of your neck, fingers sinking into your hot skin.  

His mouth trails downward the side of your neck. You crane your head back, indulging in his caresses as soft moans trickle out.

He gently signals for you to recline back and lay onto the mattress, moving the sea of blankets aside. Inclined on his elbow, almost atop of you, his cool fingers glide under your top layers, his thumb stroking against your stomach.

Pulling away from your body, he tugs on the ends of your clothes. You rise from the bed to better the angle for him to discard of them.

The hairs on your skin are standing on end from the frigid air, but you’re too focused on Jaemin’s mouth migrating over your upper arm and your bra-covered chest to care. Without notice, he stuffs a cup of the bra to one side and takes your bosom into his mouth.

Air’s seized from your lungs and your core contracts from the pleasure. Your fingers tug on Jaemin’s luscious locks and his free hand squeezes your unoccupied breast.    

After a few twirls of his tongue and a gentle drawing of his teeth on the pointed tip, he mumbles hotly into your chest while he thumbs your other nipple, “Foreplay still non-existent?”

“It’s better, I guess,” you sigh with fluttering eyes. His chuckling reverberates against your cleavage, a sign of amusement from your obstinacy. A gasp pierces the room as Jaemin repeats his actions onto the other breast.

He aids you in taking off the rest of your clothes and, obviously aware of your goosebumps and shuddering, tells you to get underneath the blankets while he strips himself.

Under the toasty ocean of layers, despite how both of you are bare-boned and how easy it is to jump into the main act, Jaemin purposefully continues to prolong the foreplay. Side by side, your lips meld endlessly; your legs and hands are intertwined in an amorous pretzel.

Jaemin ensures he doesn’t leave any part of you untouched—the pads of fingers virtually graze over every inch of your body. Each grip and drag of his digits sends you in a frenzy. Your chest is pressed into him and your eyes are blinded with desire.

In the back of your mind, you think about how you were right about foreplay working up to the heat of the moment—literally, because you’re dripping, he’s hard, and you two have embraced so much that you don’t need the blankets anymore.  

On the other hand, you wonder if Jaemin was right about skipping foreplay, because with every whisper of each other’s name, the intimacy rises immensely. You don’t know him, and neither him with you, but you’re both freely drowning in one another in a plane beyond the lust.

Although the room’s beginning to smell of a mix of all the scented candles, Jaemin hones in and drinks in your sweet aroma and your entirety behind his hazy eyes and already tousled hair. All of a sudden, one drag of his fingers over a particular sensitive spot on your body makes you giggle.

“I’m ticklish over there.”

“You mean right—” He drums his fingers over the area again. “—here?”

With a toothy grin, he generates more suffering from you and you begin to lively howl. Soon enough, you beg him to stop.

“You’re such an asshat, c’mon, let me live!”

When he ceases, his head hangs over yours and your gazes connect.

The same feeling blooms in his chest from before in the living room.

He gulps as his eyes waver over your face, unknowingly tracing your beautiful features and etching them into his memory.

Your starry eyes. Your glowing aura. Your everything.

You barely register the change in his expression because he quickly tramples on his moment of weakness by kissing you passionately.

Jaemin whips the blankets aside as he lowers himself between your legs. Your eyes are fixated on him, matching his stare, until he starts to devour you by swiping against your lustrous folds. Your back bows, and, following a few more licks, Jaemin makes a point of his knowledge of the vagina by spreading your lips and ravishing your pussy, tongue penetrating deeply.

Rippled moans release in harmony with your undulating chest. You swear you’re getting more wet, too wet, likely making it overwhelming for Jaemin, but he’s eagerly lapping every drop up.  

“How’s that?” he inquires with a grin, hovering over your trembling nether lips. His mouth is evidently glossy, even under the dim lighting.

“Good,” you pant in the most nonchalant tone you can muster up. “Very good-ahhh—”

Jaemin kindly interrupts you by tonguing your clit as he fingers your sex deeply, shattering your fake indifference.

“Move your tongue up more,” you direct, creasing your eyebrows in despair. He follows your direction, and droning moans ensue.

Jaemin’s immersed in your pleasure, but also adding to his own. The more he laps up your wetness, the more he grinds his length against the bed, aching to be inside of you.

Your desire pulses faster, contracting tighter against his fingers, body winding tensely by the second.

“Fuck, Jaemin,” you whine, leaning your head to one side with a parted mouth. “I’m close.”

He draws back and temporarily replaces his tongue with his thumb.

“Good,” he pants, cocking his head to one side. His eyes are filled with determination. “Because I’m not stopping until you come at least two more times tonight.”

You exhale a light laugh. “That’s ambiti-ohgodohgod—”

His tongue works wonders on your clit once more, so much that he has to brace your bucking hips.

Okay, maybe Jaemin did learn a thing or two and actually listened to what you said during your critique.

But now it’s time to demonstrate to him what you’ve learned.

You don’t need much of a break to catch your breath, nor do you want to immediately freeze due to inactivity, so you pull Jaemin in for an intense kiss, tongue dipping into the remnants of your own nectar, then beckon for him to take your former place on the bed.

Perched on the bottom of your feet, you’re on one side of Jaemin, lackadaisically fisting his prominence. After a few strokes, you gradually swallow his inches, keeping in mind to relax your jaw and to not rush in order to avoid any potential teething. You do this to prove yourself worthy of giving head, but also in spite, because you absolutely do not need Jaemin to brand you a virgin again.  

You read his quiet groans and his long fingers running lazily through your hair as a positive sign and advance further.

Carefully, you rest your tongue beneath the underside of his cock and bob your head, licking him until he’s sopping with your saliva. His grip in your hair grows in strength as his length reaches the end of your throat, his groans becoming more and more drawn-out.

A needy whimper leaves him as you suddenly withdraw. Dribbles of your spit follow, and you wipe it off with the back of your hand.  

“How am I doing?” you glow in a pant, lazily stroking the doused shaft.

He simply nods with half-lidded eyes, barely able to look at you. “Yeah.”

You snicker at him in his breathless position, a prickle of pride running through your spine over the fact that you blew his mind as much as you blew his dick.

“Use your words, Jaemin.”

Teasingly, your fingers curl around his blunt head, soothing the sensitive tip and sending jolts throughout him.

“Fuck—” he pulls his bottom lip upward. “Awesome. You’re doing awesome.”

“Anything to critique?”

“Mm-mm,” he shakes his head restlessly. You revel a bit more in having the upper hand on him a little while longer. You grip him tighter and hasten your speed, leaving him gasping for air.

“Am I still rusty?”

“Nope, nope,” he croaks, voice rising to a whine. “Definitely not rusty.”

“You sure?” His cockiness has transferred over to you.

“Yes, yes—fuck, slow down, please,” Jaemin begs.    

Granting his wish, you abate your rhythm and free his inches from your touch.

You wipe your hands on the sides of the bed while Jaemin rummages through the drawer of his nightstand and hastily rolls over the rubber over himself before he prepares to enter the body beneath his.  

Recalling your advice, Jaemin mindfully starts off slow. You sigh blissfully in sync to his thrusts. He adjust himself, attempting another angle, and you draw in air between your teeth.

“There, there—“

Jaemin’s quick-witted and keeps at it, plunging a bit more vigorously. Out of habit, your hands grasp onto the bedsheets, but you wittingly attach them to his frame. Hands grazing his neck, his firm pecs, and his taut muscles.  

“Touch-touch my stomach,” he orders in a hush.

You hands follow through and feel up the flexed valley of his abs. Feeling up evolves into desperate gripping and even the slight dragging of your nails.

“Your abs are so fucking hot,” you state thoughtlessly, eyes eating up the view alongside his cock disappearing in and out of you. “Jesus, fuck.”

“Yeah?” he rasps with that devilish smirk of his. God, you want to smack it off him, but not right now—not when you’re reaching euphoria. “You’re not just saying that?”

Oh, you’ve definitely stroked his ego now, but there’s no turning back. Truth spills from you on a whim.

“You’re a fucking masterpiece,” you gasp acutely.

You’re starting to wither away, yet, as if they have a life of their own, your hands drift away from him and find a new home atop your breasts.

“You make me feel so good, Jaemin...”

Jaemin’s eyes go wide. His mouth hangs at the lewdness of you touching yourself.

“Fuck, holy shit.”

His gaze doesn’t leave your ecstatic face or humming body for a second as you knead your breasts and tweak your nipples between your fingers. Your back arches further when Jaemin deepens his sweet, fulfilling thrusts. He’s holding himself back, not wanting to end this beautiful deed just yet.

The stimulation bursts over your body, both from your own doing and Jaemin’s.  

You plead, “Faster, please, faster.”

And he complies, but he also rubs your bundle of nerves, causing a tight knot in you to build up and your shallow moans transform into heavy screams. You clasp onto his back and claw at the protruding shoulder blades.  

“I’m-I’m—”

You clench, both with your core and your nails digging into him, but Jaemin’s unrelenting, capturing your second peak for the evening.

Instead of coming after you, he shockingly veers lower and closer to you and curbs his pace.

“Was that real?”

You respond with an exhausted nod. Oddly, the smile he shows this time isn’t arrogant, but warm and teetering the line of tenderness. His lips fuse with yours before they stray towards your neck. The passion stews as he sucks your tits, all the while lunging laxly into you.  

With an obscene pop!, Jaemin removes himself from your nubs.

“Ready for the last round?”

His fast thrusts, hitting you precisely in the best spot, cloud your already weakened logic, deterring you from making any response.    

Perspiration is blatant on both individuals. For him, his forehead glistens gorgeously with his damp hair. For you, the back of your bent knees are gluing together. Your bodies are about to pass out, but you both persevere until the end.

As you convulse and perish together in beautiful agony, coincidentally enough, the bulbs in the room and in the streets leap to radiance.

Together, you collapse onto the bed side by side, panting heavily and laughing.

“Told you we weren’t going to die.”

You turn your head to see Jaemin looking at you with a cheeky grin. In retaliation, you stick your tongue out.

By nighttime, it’s finally stopped snowing outside. However, the streets won’t be cleared until morning, at the very least.

But... you’re surprisingly okay with that.

In a turn of events, the sex inexplicably makes the two of you warm up to each other. There still is targeted banter and tension between you, lingering from before, but it’s less hostile and more playful.

During a fancy Christmas Eve dinner of microwavable pizzas, you poke fun at each other’s majors and discuss your respective hobbies in depth, especially his love for photography. Jaemin even asks if he can take a picture of you, claiming that the kitchen lighting actually looks nice on someone for once.  

“Is that how you collect the memory of your one-night stands? Instead of hanging their skins in your closet, you sweet-talk your way and keep all the photos of them?” you joke, referring to the video call from yesterday night. It feels like an eternity ago, but snowstorms tend to do that.

He chuckles behind the camera as he snaps a photo of you scrunching your face cutely.

“Yeah, but you’re the first one who has clothes on,” he says, glancing down at the photo on the camera roll.  

“Ugh, gross,” you cringe and take a sip of tea.

Jaemin doesn’t add anything further. He leaves out the fact that he never keeps any traces of his one-night stands, that you’re the first girl he’s taken a picture of in a while.  

After a few hours of more talking and even some gaming with one another, sleep is much needed. Jaemin offers an extra toothbrush and a sweater and pair of sweats to sleep in. You’re facing each other on his bed, noses almost touching.  

“It’s been a while since I haven’t had sex with a girl before I slept next to them,” he whispers, adjusting himself comfortably. The side of his face rests on his piled hands. “It’s kinda nice.”

You cover your mouth as you yawn, then lay your hand back under your head, reflecting the same position as Jaemin.

“You know, it might be my sleepiness talking, but maybe you’re not the worst person in the world to be stuck with during a snowstorm.”

A lovely chuckle echoes in your ear. “I’m glad you’ve had a change of heart.”

After a few moments, your eyes are fluttering to a close until he softly calls out your name.

“Hm?” you stir awake, but not by much.

“Do you...?”

Jaemin doesn’t know what’s gotten to him, doesn’t quite understand why the defences he built for so long are crumbling down in only a day of knowing you.  

And yet, something urges him to give it a chance.

Blowing out a shaky sigh, he anxiously intertwines his fingers with yours. You hum softly at the action and a small smile blooms on your face.

“Do you want to go on a date with me sometime?”

“Hm?” His question doesn’t take you aback as much as you would be if you were fully awake. But even in your drowsy state, you have quips in hand. “Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, wants to go on a date?”

“Yeah,” he replies gently, brushing your loose hair out of your face.

Another yawn. “I thought you said you don’t want feelings and relationships and all that shit.”

His fingers trace your pretty jawline and shrugs. “One date doesn’t mean we’re going to be in a relationship, I’m sure you know that.”

You pause for a good two seconds, but the two seconds feel like forever for Jaemin.

“Mmm, fine. One date, just one.” You barely hold up your pointer finger. “And only because it’s Christmas tomorrow. ‘Tis the season to be giving...”

Relief washes over Jaemin in the form of a smile. Embracing the blatant feeling in his chest this time, he plants a light kiss on your nose and wishes you sweet dreams, even though you’ve already fallen soundly asleep.  

Sunlight pours over your eyes on Christmas morning.

Déjà vu peculiarly creeps up on you, but the only thing that’s the same as yesterday is waking up in Jaemin’s bed.

He’s next to you this time, deep in his peaceful slumber, instead of waiting for you to leave by his doorframe. The snow has finally stopped, and you think you hear the faint noises of snow plows outside. You inhale deeply and also notice the faded aroma from all the scented candles from last night.

The scenes of yesterday flicker across your mind. The incredible sex. The talking. The dinner. The interlocking of his fingers with yours.

The date he asked you out on.

You stare at him, watching him sleep with a sense of content.

Turning your body, you routinely check your phone, which is charging beside his. You have a slew of Merry Christmas texts from several chats and a few private messages from your friends.

Your attention falls on Jaemin’s phone when it lights up with a notification, likely texts from his friends and family too.

But that’s not what you’re focusing on.

Your heart sinks at the sight of his lockscreen.

It’s a picture of him and a girl kissing.

A twinge emerges in your chest and twists harder and harder.

Jaemin being a fuckboy, you can respect. People can do whatever they want with their lives.

But to cheat?

That’s unforgivable, and a true sin if there ever was one.

You scramble to dash out of there, careful not to make any noises in fear of waking Jaemin up. However, Jaemin’s sensitive to the sounds of the front door, so he rouses awake. His eyes flit open, noticing how you’re gone. He then sees his phone blowing up and adds two and two together.

With his phone in hand, Jaemin rushes to get on a coat and stuffs his feet into his boots, not giving a shit that he’s wearing his thin pajamas in the coldness. He’s bounding down the flight of stairs and onto the bright, white wonderland of the streets.

He swivels his head and catches sight of you almost past down the block, slowly trekking through the thick snow. Jaemin sprints, as much as he can, and hops towards you.  

He yells your name, making others on the street turn, but you don’t. You continue forward without looking back.

“Wait! I can explain!”

You’re trying to gain speed, but cardio isn’t your friend. Thankfully for Jaemin, it’s a close friend for him.

“I don’t wanna fucking hear it, Jaemin,” you grunt, hearing the rapid crunching of his shoes coming closer. “Get lost.”

“No, listen to me for a second.”

The boyish man grasps you by the arm and turns you around. You throw his arm away from you and he holds his hands in the air, letting you know that he respects your space. He drops his hands and sees that you’re seething, even worse than you were when he kicked you out yesterday.

“How are you going to explain your lockscreen with you kissing your fucking girlfriend?! Hm?”

“Ex,” he pants in clarification. “Ex-girlfriend.”

Your eyebrows mesh together in utter confusion.

“Okay? That doesn’t make me feel any better, knowing that you’re still hung up on your ex.”

Jaemin shakes his head and rakes a hand through his hair. You note the large clouds he exhales and how he’s barely wearing any clothes. A tinge of sympathy passes through you, wanting to give him some of your clothes for extra layers, but you smother that quickly in your state of rage.  

“I’m not hung up on her. Remember you asked me yesterday why I don’t want girls to stay the next morning?”

You cock your head impatiently, as if saying, “Yeah.”

“Well, I don’t want to attach myself to girls. I can’t. I...”

He lowers his head to one side. Shutting his eyes, a long puff emits from his mouth.

“She cheated on me.”

The snow plows in the distance can’t compare to the pumping of your heart in your ears. All the feelings you felt in the last day, but especially in the last fifteen minutes, jumble together in your head, making you feel uneasy and unsure of what to exactly feel or comprehend of the situation.  

But you do know one thing, despite the fact that you two barely know each other, the pained look on his face is real—that this is the untold story behind his ways.  

Jaemin lifts his head and holds out his phone for emphasis. “The lockscreen serves as a constant reminder that dating and feelings will and can fuck me up.”

Carefully, he steps a little closer to you and slowly cups your face in his shaking hands. You don’t pull away nor is there the same anger from moments before, so he daintily runs his thumbs over your cheeks.

“Until you showed me yesterday that maybe I’m willing to give it all another shot. Risk it all for fuck knows what, but you make it look like it’s worth it.”

He continues his ramble after adjusting some of your hair from the ongoing breeze.

“Sure, it’s Christmas today, but I don’t want you to say yes to going on a date with me just because it is. I want you to say yes because maybe you like spending time with me just as much as I like to spend it with you.”

You’re completely disoriented—your eyes are shifting everywhere but his eyes and your lips are quivering with no words coming out. He sighs understandingly. 

“Look, I know you’re probably having second thoughts and you don’t have to give me an answer right now. Think on it for as much time as you need, but I want you to know that I genuinely like you and I want to go on an actual date with you.”

He peels his hand away from your face and raises it into the air as if taking an oath.

“I, Na Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, will devote to monogamy once again if it means I can date you.”

His hands grab yours, kisses the back of them, and then he presses one kiss onto your icy cheek prior to walking away.

“Merry Christmas,” he says with a sad smile. “You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

Later that evening at your large family’s Christmas party, you take another dreadful gulp of your wine.

It’s the happy holiday season, but why does everyone feel the need to stick their nose in your dating life? Well, really, a lack there of.

“Why are you still single?” Layers of their voices resound the same question in your head. You take another swig.

Potential unsaid answers that you kept to yourself fly around as you swish the drink in your glass.  

Because you choose to be.

Okay, not really, but it’s the easiest answer.  

Because you haven’t found the right guy to get you back in the game.

What does that even mean? What makes the right guy even right?

The right guy? It’s someone who makes you laugh, someone who gives as good as they can take it, someone who wants you just as much as you do.

The cogs move in your head as you take one more sip before you finally come to the conclusion—  

Because you didn’t find the right guy until last night.

Despite the mess of today and yesterday morning, you realize that Jaemin is... actually sort of sweet. Annoying, yes, but he keeps you on your toes. It’s a plus that he’s easy on the eyes, but it’s a bigger plus that he’s even easier to talk to.

And if he can find it in his scorched heart to trust you, you can find it in your heart to trust him too.  

You quickly say your good-byes to your family and let them know you have other plans with friends tonight.

As the Uber rolls up to his apartment building, you realize you probably should’ve messaged him on Tinder, but it’s worth a shot to see if he’s home. Anyways, impulsiveness is a controlling entity, as evident from your Christmas Eve Eve’s adventure.

And in retrospect, perhaps Jaemin was the perfect pick of the crop after all.  

Someone’s entering the building and lets you in behind them. You take the stairs two at a time and hear booming music coming from his floor. At first, you assume it’s from other apartments, but it’s all coming from one—his.

Without a thought, your knuckle taps the door.  

A handsome figure that’s definitely not Jaemin opens the door. Behind him, you see a group of young men scattered around the living room, and some have a few girls tucked under their arms.

The man eyes you up and down with a spark in his eye. He’s not Jaemin, but he surely reminds you of him.

“And who might you be?” he asks.

“Who’s at the door, Jeno?” An unknown male voice hollers in a high pitch from the couch. He’s one of the guys with a girl attached to him.

You blink. “Uhm, I’m—”

“She’s with me!” Jaemin shoves the flirty stranger aside and tugs you by your wrist, making headway to his bedroom. He flips the light switch on and the door clicks shut.

“What are you doing h—”

You cut him off with a kiss.

An innocent one, at first, with hints of alcohol on each other’s lips. Your arms wrap around the other and the passion increases with the mingling of your tongues, each party tasting and confirming the specific drinks you both consumed tonight.  

Jaemin forces himself to pull away and presses his forehead against yours. “Did you just come all the way here to kiss me, or...?”

“Maybe I came over to ask... if I can stay with you for another night?” you playfully ask, fingers intertwining behind the nape of his neck.  

He chuckles heartily. His fingers sink into the sides of your waist. “Is my dick that great? The sex with me that amazing?”

“Mmm, that’s definitely a benefit,” you agree, fluttering your nose against his. “But I want more than that—“ You poke a finger to his chest. “—I want the man behind the dick.”

Your gazes converge, bringing you together as one.

“I want to go on that date with you. I want you, Jaemin.”

He flashes a megawatt smile that could compete with a million Christmas lights, but it fades suddenly and you’re unsure why he seems like he’s about to bawl his eyes out.

“That’s so beautiful, I might cry.” He brings a finger to his eye, pretending to shed a tear.

Oh, yeah—you’re definitely going to need to hire someone to constantly shove your eyeballs back into your sockets if you’re going to date Jaemin.

“Oh, shut up,” you whisper, yanking him in for another kiss.

Three dates later, including a memorable New Year’s Eve, you finally decide to rid of the Tinder app for good.

With his arm around you on his living room couch, Jaemin glances over your shoulder.

“Really? You’re finally deleting your Tinder?”

You snort in disbelief. “That’s gold, coming from the King of Tinder himself. When did you delete?”

He turns to face the television and shrugs coolly.

“Maybe I didn’t.”

“Wouldn’t put it past you,” you nod, eyes still on your phone.

“Nah, I’m kidding, I did.”    

You sharply turn your head.

“No way. When?” you press with narrow eyes.  

A shy smile emerges on Jaemin’s face as he picks his pants over his thighs.

“On the night of Christmas Eve, after you agreed to go on a date with me.”

[hansolmates]

distance learning (m)

banner done by the beautiful @eerieedits​

summary; after their first hookup, jungkook isn’t so sure whether you’re serious about being exclusive. after all, people say things during sex. jungkook takes it in his own hands to figure out where you stand, and he realizes soon enough that eavesdropping is a bad habit pairing; neighbor!jungkook x (f) reader genre/warnings; fluff, humor, crack, insecure!jk, unresolved sexual tension, stressed!mc, this is really just unnecessary drama bc drama is fun™, sexting, dom kook’s still a meanie in control, posession kink, cock slapping, a blowjob, cockwarming, unprotected, creampie, squirting, (wrap the pickle before u tickle folks) and of course the excessive use of the petname [redacted] w/c; 6.1k a/n; haaaaaa three months later im finally posting pt 2! i figured that no matter how many times i edit/reread at this point i think it’s time to finally let this beast go!!! enjoyyy click here for part 1: remote learning drabbles; 01

if you enjoy this, please considering giving our pasta couple a like n’share💚

It’s been a week since the thing.

The remote-controlled vibrator thing. 

The whole sappy-love-confesion-during-sex thing. 

Jungkook is antsy, tail tucked in, perpetually wondering whether he went too far. You seemed to like it, and Jungkook definitely loved it. It was spicy and dirty and hot, and at the same time Jungkook thought he really made progress in expressing his feelings for you. Not only that, you said you liked him back!

At least, he thought you did. 

“I really said I’d feed her lasagna and cum in the same sentence,” Jungkook bemoans into his pillow, which still lingers faintly of your Redken shampoo. “I’m disgusting. She thinks I’m disgusting.” 

People say things during sex, Jungkook knows that. In the throes of passion and pleasure, people will say anything that comes to their mind, anything that fits the mood. Of course, you’d be tied in and say you like him back. But did you like him back as a friend? As a fuckbuddy? As something more? 

“Fucking text her,” Taehyung is tired of Jungkook’s wallowing, everytime he checks in on the app developer he’s brooding in one of three places. Today’s his bedroom. Taehyung dips under the blankets, and steals Jungkook’s pillow right under his nose.

Jungkook suppresses a whimper, face melding into the blankets. Now that pillow is going to smell like Taehyung.

“Text her what,” Jungkook replies despondently. 

“I don’t know, something along the lines of ‘I wanna follow through with my proposition of feeding you my cum and lasagna—not simultaneously. Wanna go on a date this weekend?’ It’s that simple,” Taehyung gets up in Jungkook’s face, dark eyes forcing him to bore right in. “Want me to do it for you?” 

“Noo, I’m an adult I can—”

“I did it for you.” 

Jungkook nearly knocks into Taehyung’s hard head, sitting up straight when he notices his phone behind his roommate’s back. This is what he gets for sharing passwords. Thankfully, the message is cleaner than Taehyung’s words, and you’ve already replied. 

[1:23] Jungkook: would you like to go out for dinner this weekend? pasta and wine?

[1:25] You: it’s a busy week this week 🥺 raincheck? 

“Was the sex that bad?” Taehyung frowns, reading the message twice. 

“N-no,” Jungkook is sweating. He isn’t sure anymore. 

Taehyung hands Jungkook back his phone, slowly, as if you’ll reply back with a change of your mind. Jungkook is a deflated balloon on his bed, feeling like a bum in his ratty sweater and a dateless weekend. 

“It’s just that,” Taehyung puts a hand on his lip, mulling, “busy people don’t reply that fast. Like even if she wasn’t busy, there’s a fifteen-minute leeway before replying.” 

This silly rule overrides Jungkook’s mind for the rest of the week. 

The gyms have been reopened for months, and Jungkook’s trainer misses him dearly. Jungkook meets with Saeroyi in the morning, eager to get a few jabs in with some fresh equipment. He tries to move on, distract himself with a couple of pumps and a match with Saeroyi. It feels great to sweat it off, but it doesn’t help sway Jungkook’s incessant thoughts. 

The ball is in your court now, Jungkook has nothing to do but wait. Some people are just bad texters, maybe you just happened to have your phone near you when Taehyung sent the message. Maybe you just wanted to cut Jungkook off as quickly as possible so you decided to reply fast and rip the band-aid. 

No, you’re definitely not that cold-hearted. 

Re-entering his apartment complex, his eyes linger towards where your room lies on the first floor. It’s all the way at the end of the hallway, and he’s tempted to just confront you and make sure that what you and him really had is indeed, over. Conversely, you could just really be having a bad week and you genuinely do want a raincheck. 

Jungkook’s eyes trail to his form. Still in his gym clothes, and a little sweaty from the travel time. If he gets caught, he can just tell you he’s doing a cooldown by running across the hallways. Not the first time it’s happened, afterall it led him to you at one point. 

He breaks into a soft jog, making a beeline to your front door. His feet squish against your old welcome mat. You haven’t changed it since Halloween, and he smiles fondly at the black scripted “Boo Y’all” written in script next to a chibi-ghost. 

His heart beats faster as his hand lingers by the door, ready to knock. Deep breaths. Who knows, he could just be overthinking (like usual.) 

“Fuck, Hobi!” 

Jungkook freezes, his knuckles a centimeter away from your door. He backs up as if he’s been burned. His heart has fallen all the way down to his ass, and intends to stay there because now he feels like a damn fool. 

The bed is creaking relentlessly, a rhythmic pattern that has Jungkook’s face crumbling at every spring. Jungkook’s face hovers over the door, his ear brushing against the wood. 

“C’mon, bunny,” the male voice is teasing, “you know you love having me over. It would satisfy both of us if you’d just let it go.” 

Bunny. A cute pet name, for sure. The way it rolls off the stranger’s tongue is natural, as if he’s been saying it for years. But what about being his doll, is that not good enough? 

You’re huffy, taking deep breaths. He doesn’t want to hear anymore. Jungkook has put himself through enough self-wallowing for the week. What if he was just a stepping stone to meeting new people that will satisfy you better? What if you just needed one good orgasm to get your flow back, and Jungkook’s job is done? Sure, there were no strings attached when he proposed to have sex with you, but he thought… 

No more thinking. Jungkook jogs away from the door, even going so far is to jog all the way up to the penthouse. 

He hates this. 

You hate this. 

It’s been five days since Hoseok’s arrival, and you are going bonkers. Why couldn’t he get a hotel or an AirBnB? Because he’s cheap as fuck, that’s why. Your dinky cousin has been clinging to you like a lonely koala, and while you found it cute in the 5th grade, it doesn’t translate well nearly two decades later. 

Every morning is the same. You make a subpar toast and Nutella breakfast, letting Hoseok’s slices go cold as you log in for work. You’ve been clocking in earlier in the hopes to finish the majority of your tasks before Hoseok wakes up, because by then you can barely function. Once he wakes up, he’s relentless, bouncing on the bed and talking your head off while you try to concentrate on whatever your boss is telling you. Whenever he jumps too hard, your cheap mattress causes your laptop to fly, and the only thing you can do is curse him out. Sometimes he plays Disney movies and sings in tandem, choreography and all. 

You know that Hoseok is stressed and this is his outlet, and you don’t have it in you to stop his incessant habits. He’s visiting your area because of a lucrative job offer nearby and the interviews are sporadic, making Hoseok linger in your apartment for hours at a time until he’s summoned for whatever test they want to throw at him. 

Most of the interviews are in the evening, and it’s when you can clock back in and finish your leftover assignments while Hoseok is also working. By the time he returns, you’re dog tired and so is he. 

Every night, you try to move away from Hoseok’s clingy self, as he grapples onto your waist and slings a thigh over your belly. You wish it were someone else sharing the bed with you. 

If you bring Jungkook into the picture however, you’d be burnt for the week. Complete crumbs. It would be too much stimulation for you, having to balance work, Hoseok’s incessant attitude, and putting on a face for Jungkook. Your relationship with the penthouse neighbor is barely budding, hardly watered considering Hoseok’s sudden visit. You cling to the fact that in a couple days you would be giving your undivided attention to Jungkook, most of your priorities out of the way, and most importantly, you’ll have your own room back. 

Maybe you could surprise him by giving him a pasta dinner, just like he proposed. 

Unable to get the thought out of your head, you blindly reach for your phone on the nightstand. It’s late, very late for a workday. The blue screen burns your eyes a bit, but you're determined to at least check up on Jungkook. You can’t take too long, otherwise you won’t be able to sleep and get him out of your head. Dear, unassuming cousin Hoseok is fast asleep next to you, due to the fact it’s nearly midnight. Making sure not to disrupt him, you carefully cup your phone in your hands, putting it on the lowest light setting. 

[11:54] You: hey, hope work hasnt been as draining for u as it’s been for me  ☠️  what’s your opinion on pasta sauces, red or white? 

Jungkook is normally a fast texter, at least from your experience. It’s you that’s the sporadic texter, sometimes taking hours to reply, other times in seconds. It never really mattered until now, however. But it takes five, ten, and finally fifteen minutes before you get a response. 

[12:09] Jungkook: ??? 

You frown, wondering what you said wrong. 

[12:10] You: do you not wanna do pasta anymore? Are you craving something else now?

[12:10] Jungkook: i don’t think it’d work out 

[12:10] You: why? 

[12:11] Jungkook: im sure you know why, bunny. 

Strange. He’s never called you bunny before, and in your opinion you think he’d be the bunny in the relationship—soft and cuddly on the outside, and an absolute horn ball in bed. Is this some sort of weird power play? Is he being passive aggressive on purpose? Whatever this game is, you’re not into it. Grumbling under your breath, you snake out of bed, looking blindly for your slippers in the dark. You’ll be in and out of Jungkook’s apartment in ten minutes. 

Just as your hand brushes the doorknob, your new roommate calls for you. 

“Bunny?” Hoseok calls blearily, and you’re staring straight at his cookie-printed eye mask, “what time is it, where are you going?” 

“Um, out,” you reply shortly, “I forgot I left my laundry in the dryer.” 

“Oh, m’kay. Come back soon, y’know I can’t sleep alone.” 

It’s then you realize. Bunny. Jungkook thinks that Hoseok and you are a thing. He really needs to stop eavesdropping on you. 

You feel your pussy frown. Your cousin is such a cockblock and he doesn’t even know it. Without an answer, you slip through your door and into the first free elevator. As you zing up the floors with the magical 1234 code, you work and rework your hair in and out of its style, wondering if you’ll look more presentable with your hair messy or thrown back. 

As soon as you reach the penthouse, you burst into action. “Jungkook!” you cry, pounding the front door, “it’s a misunderstanding, open up!” 

The door immediately swings open after the first three knocks, and you punch Taehyung in the chest. 

“You look awful,” Kim Taehyung drawls. Taehyung is wearing nothing but a cranberry red silk kimono, and you have to avert your eyes and focus on his face, which is even worse because he’s looking at you like an all-knowing psychic. 

“Gee, thanks,” you try to move past him, but he’s blocking the door. 

“Jungkook’s in a meeting with some foriegn developers,” Taehyung talks with his hands, pretending like he has any idea of the nature of his roommate’s job, “when it’s this late he doesn’t leave his office until morning. Door’s locked.” 

“Well then, can you relay a message?” 

“Depends, is this message going to hurt him further?” 

Oh my goodness, when Taehyung wants to be he is such an enabler. “Tell Jungkook he’s done wallowing. Instead of jumping to conclusions, maybe he should’ve just asked me why we couldn’t go on a date this week.” 

“You could’ve also just told him you have a man on the side.” 

“Ohmygod you two are two iotas of a combined braincell!” you shove your hands in your pocket, hotly scrolling through your phone so you can shove a picture in his face. “This is Jung Hoseok, my cousin who derailed my plans this week by crashing in my too-tiny apartment and forced me to raincheck with Jungkook. He’s a blabbermouth and would tell everyone—my parents, my grandparents, my great-aunts—about Jungkook if he found out I was dating, and I’m not ready for that,” you zoom in on the picture, despite the fact that the screen is practically touching Taehyung’s nose, “and the reason Hoseok calls me bunny is not sexual—you two are fucking gross—I had front tooth problems in elementary school and I had a brace on my two big teeth, it was not pretty.” 

“Ah, bunny.” Taehyung echoes with wide eyes, looking at you as if you’re now the one with sage wisdom, “it all makes sense now.” He gulps, taking in the old photo of a mini-Hoseok and you, yourself frowning to cover your huge braces and Hoseok trying to pull your gums apart with his greasy little fingers. 

Satisfied by Taehyung’s evident squirming, you decide you’re too tired to further this interaction. “Tell the other half of your cell for me, will ya?” You’re already turning away, pressing repeatedly at the elevator button, “I would love to go on a date with him as soon as he gets his head out of his ass.” 

Jungkook is tired, but not tired enough to murder Taehyung and make it look like an accident. 

When he has late meetings, Taehyung is usually quieter around the apartment, and even gets Jungkook a hot meal once he wakes up in the afternoons. Today, Jungkook slept through and through. Normally he’d wake up midway to Taehyung’s television dramas, or the clanging of last night’s dishes but nope, not a peep. 

And today’s hot meal is takeout from Jungkook’s favorite ramen restaurant. That only means one thing—something has gone to shit and Taehyung feels guilty. 

Jungkook sips his tonkotsu impossibly slow, hearing Taehyung’s words—your words from last night—clear as day. Taehyung even describes in detail where the nickname bunny comes from, down to how miserable you looked in the photo with your monstrously metal-bent teeth. Oh, how he wishes he can swaddle you between the blankets, hold you and comfort you while you deal with your family. 

[2:45] Jungkook: doll, im so sorry

[2:45] Jungkook: please, i booked us a weekend at that new spa that just opened downtown. The tickets are flex, so if your cousin doesn’t leave by then week we can always reschedule 

[2:51] Jungkook: baby doll… 

This is far worse than believing you didn’t like him. Now Jungkook is antsy, knowing you deserve all the space in the world because of how silly he was being. You owe him nothing. If he just waited it out until you were ready, he wouldn’t be in this mess. He’s potato-esque throughout the day, thankfully Taehyung gives him space as he watches hours of mindless television. 

You don’t reply until very late into the night. 

[10:10] You: IM ALIVE--barely!! And mr. jeon, you’re not only a triple texter, but an ellipsis texter???? You’re asking for trouble

Jungkook has no shame, immediately texting you back. He can’t help it, he’s smitten. 

[10:12] Jungkook: taehyung explained everything. It’s all his fault. Don’t ask why, it’s his fault. Im so sorry. 

[10:12] You: mm, it’s okay. Just a misunderstanding. I was pretty upset last night, but i’ve been pretty tired this week so my fuse is short. 

[10:14] Jungkook: you should go to sleep now, doll. We’ll have time together after your cousin leaves

[10:14] You: just a couple more minutes. Miss u and your cute face 

[10:16] Jungkook: 

[10:16] Jungkook: will this hold u off until saturday?

Jungkook is a pile of goo. Pink, warm, happy heart-glittered goo. It takes a minute for you to reply, and for that whole minute Jungkook is kicking his legs under the sheets of his bed like an eager five-year old who just gave his crush his Valentine. Maybe it’s taking you so long to reply because you’re trying to send a selfie of your own, running off to the bathroom to take a cute selfie if your cousin is asleep in bed. 

[10:19] You: fuck, i kno that’s supposed to be a cute selfie, but i want you so bad. I want to sit on your face, let your lips glisten with my pussy as i cum all over that pretty face

[10:19] You: i wanna touch myself so badly but fuckin’ hoseok is out here snoring like he’s gon hack a lung. Panties are so wet 🥺🥺 your doll is needy for you, wanna be played with

[10:20] Jungkook: lfjsdl;fkjs;fjsoisfoisljsdfsdklfjsdklf 

He throws his phone across the bed, feeling himself twitch in his red flannel pyjama bottoms. The thought of you so hot and needy when you’re ten floors down has Jungkook absolutely livid. He doesn’t know how he’s going to talk to you, comfort you without missing you like crazy. 

Jungkook thinks back to what he has in his fridge. His contractor sent him a cheese assortment, maybe he can bring it down pretending to be a friendly neighbor. Maybe Hoseok can go to the convenience store to conveniently grab a bottle of wine. He can make both of you cum in five minutes, flat. 

Akin to a dumb, horny teenager, he sighs. He rubs his palm longingly over his member. He’s horny, but he’s also eager to see your face. Talk to you, get reacquainted with your routine and sneak his way into it. He wants to be a part of your life, and he’s hoping you will too. 

[5:02] You: Jungkook, you left me hanging last night

[5:05] Jungkook: baby doll… i wouldnt have been able to handle myself if we continued

[5:06] You: so you decided to dip :( 

[5:06] You: could u play with your doll a lil bit, kook? Hobi left for another interview

[5:08] You: PNG.0901

Jungkook was a fool to believe that you would drop him like that. No, Jungkook can see now that you two are a match made in heaven. You have a bite, never afraid to speak your mind when needed. This translates to a hunger you shamelessly share with Jungkook, both sexual and romantically intimate. He almost wishes he could’ve seen you act like a bitch to Taehyung last night, he can only imagine how sexy you looked telling him off. 

He has the technology to blow up your picture, the one that’s currently having him close his laptop and shove it to the side. He spreads his legs further across his glass desk, trying to find comfort between his tight pants as he absorbs every bit of your skin. 

It’s nothing too risque, but it’s nothing short of sensual. The room is dark, but it’s very clearly a picture of your hand between your thighs. Again, you’re between your wall and bed, squished between your office chair with your legs spread as far as they can go. Your skin is so soft looking, plush as you press two fingers between your damp panties. Adorable. 

[5:12] Jungkook: you know why i never replied last night? Because i was too busy jacking off to your dirty words doll. U really need your mouth washed

[5:12] You: wanna wash it with something else🍆

[5:12] You: please kook, i need something. Hoseok will come home soon and i might rip his head off. Help prevent a murder

Jungkook chuckles, clutching his phone closer to his body. He loves how much you’re opening up to him. Last week feels like so long ago, how you were all flushed and wide-eyed at the proposition of sex. He thinks you two can have a lot of fun getting to know each other, both emotionally and physically. 

[5:15] Jungkook: i was gonna wait until i sent this, but i think my doll needs it. Here’s what i was doing last night

[5:17] Jungkook: MP4.13

He… has a meeting in five minutes. A very important, very serious meeting. Jungkook jacked off enough last night, now it’s your turn. He hopes you like it. It’s not a very long video, barely a twenty-second clip of him fisting his cock. Taehyung was still home at the time, so he had to keep quiet. However, he couldn’t get the image of you out of his head that night, rubbing your thighs together in a cramped mattress as you try to erase the dirty thoughts of him. A murmur of your name, and the image of his precum dripping down his knuckles. You hope it’s enough. 

[5:34] You: u make everything so much easier💜✨

[5:35] You: MP4.234

Two minutes. The video you send is even shorter than his, barely fifteen seconds. You’re in a much more comfortable position, horizontal on the bed. Your shirt is ridden up to the underside of your breasts, one hand clutching your bare breast so hard he can see your cotton plush skin bulging between your fingers. The other hand has your panties shifted to the side, three fingers in your sopping cunt. 

“Mmh—fuck, f-uck Jungkook—” the words are mere breaths, puffs of air as you reach your orgasm. 

His call connects. He nearly drops his phone on the glass.  

“Jungkook!” Andreas from Germany wishes him brightly, “you look great, glowing even!” 

Jungkook blushes, and mutters something about having to go to the bathroom before they start. 

Taehyung makes himself scarce on Saturday. He packs a duffel bag for himself and takes the PlayStation, knowing it’ll be a long weekend at Jimin’s. 

Jungkook is on livewire for the morning. He even express-delivers a pasta roller to his house, and he spends all morning testing out the perfect pasta dough. His black apron is covered in flour, and he can barely comprehend the tutorial that’s teaching him on his flatscreen. 

He’s on autopilot. He hasn’t contacted you since he sent that selfie, and he doesn’t intend to. Jungkook understands why you made yourself scarce in the beginning of the week, preferring to raincheck and pin your relationship for a better time. Jungkook’s brain is overridden with you, swollen with thoughts of you. You would never be able to focus if you kept in contact like you did last night, especially if you can’t get away from Hoseok. 

Absence surely makes the heart grow fonder. 

Slapping his hands against his trousers, he surveys his handiwork. His pasta is appropriately floured and wrung, each handful of fresh dough wrapped in little nests. Off the stove is a bechamel sauce, a base ready to be cooked in whatever kind of pasta dish you want. He thinks the two of you would have fun making your own non-traditional pasta dishes. 

The soft knocks on his front door interrupts his train of thought, and he knows it’s you. 

You stand in front of the door, impossibly small in a large shirt and a plain pair of leggings. At the sight of Jungkook, a smile as warm and sweet as hot chocolate worms its way to your face, and you collapse into his arms. 

He sighs gratefully, sinking into your small body. When he pulls away, he can’t help but frown at your apparent exhaustion. You must’ve come back from something tedious, because sweat dots your brow and your eyes are still puffy and dark. Your chest arches bonelessly into his, hoping to melt in his embrace. 

“Hi,” you say.

“Hey,” he replies. 

“It’s Saturday.” 

“It is Saturday.” 

You rub your nose between the fabric of his button down, “I should’ve been more specific when I wanted to raincheck on you,” you murmur into the white cotton. 

“No, I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions,” Jungkook whispers, even though you’re the only two people on the floor, “I’ll make it better, yeah? I’m going to love you so good tonight, won’t have to lift a finger—” 

You shake your head, looking at him calmly. “Jungkook, it’s been a long week. Hobi got the job, I spent all this morning moving his two-ton speaker set into his new apartment. I don’t want anything gentle. I want you to rail me into next week,” Jungkook chokes on his saliva when you reach to cup his dick through his pants, already sporting a chub, “fuck me breathless. I want—no, I need this.”

Anything for you, but Jungkook isn’t going to let your mouth runneth over that easily. He wants that too, obviously. But again, you’ve made him wait. 

Bending slightly, Jungkook whispers darkly into your ear, “Who said you can decide the rules here, doll?”  he’s been waiting all week to slip back into this persona, one that has you shivering delightfully under his touch. A small, secret smile tucks itself under your lips as you tilt your head down, but Jungkook catches it. It shows you’ve missed it too. He lets your sneaky smile  slide for now, only because he’s missed you so much and you’ve had a long day. 

“If I wanna fuck you rough, I’ll fuck you rough. If I want to edge you until you're sobbing on the corner of the kitchen table, I’ll do it,” Jungkook spits every declaration into your skin, biting at your shoulder so hard you cry deliciously. 

He drags you over to the living room, and he could sing at how easily you follow directions. Both of you have been tied up this week, and some hard sex would definitely ease that frustration, “Knees,” Jungkook commands, and you waste no time sinking to the floor, hands atop your knees. 

You look up through your lashes, eyes big and glassy. His poor girl is tired, and he finds it all the more attractive that you’re willing to push that aside to make eachother feel good. 

“Pretty, pretty,” he chants, pulling down his pants and letting his dick spring free, “suck.” 

You waste no time, and he watches as your eyes dilate over the expanse of his cock, half-hard and ready for your mouth. Your nails dig into your knees as you start with featherlight kisses, finally turning into sloppy smacks as you lick all over his dick. 

Jungkook groans, weaving a hand into your hair to force his dick down your throat. You gag at the sudden intrusion, but it doesn’t stop you from taking it like a champ. Hard, deep thrusts that he’s sure you can feel all the way in your stomach. You gag at each thrust, but don’t let up as your hot tongue wraps him up and licks at the pre-cum. 

“Fuuuuck, doll,” he rips you away, his now hard dick springing away. He’s a little shaky on his knees, but he plants his feet down as he grips his cock, slapping the tip of it across your cheek. It smears your face, glossing your flushed cheeks in a mixture of your saliva and pre-cum. “Are you trying to make me cum first? So sweet, you don’t even care if you cum tonight, hmm? You owe me, making you believe you had another man.” 

This isn’t true, of course. The both of you know it was just miscommunication, but it doesn’t hurt to play it up for pleasure. 

“N-no Kook, I’m yours,” you grapple at his pants, pulling them down so he can get them off completely. 

“Right. You’re. Mine.” With every punctuated word is a light slap to your cheek, and you take it. His cock bounces right off of you, until you finally move your head to suckle at the engorged tip, “I’m keeping you forever, doll. Don’t you know that?” 

Throughout this whole process, you don’t move, other than the minute clawing at your knees. You’re so good to him. Jungkook pulls away and ignores the ache in his member for now, taking off your clothes for himself. It’s like unwrapping a gift, revealing every bit of skin reserved for his viewing. “So sexy,” he remarks once he’s got you bare, pulling you onto the couch. He’s still in his button down shirt, his date night shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbow. However, he lets your hands inch under the stiff fabric, feeling for his taut muscle. 

He guides your aching cunt to his cock, sinking you down. It’s a tight fit, and you both moan at the brush of contact. Despite not being prepped, you’re still slick, and it makes up for it. He doesn’t thrust up or anything, just guides his lips to yours with a threadbare brush of his finger. 

“Kook, d-do you want me to move?” you mumble against his cherry-flavored lip balm. 

“Good dolls don’t move until they’re told,” your eyes widen innocently at the statement, and you crumple against his mouth, at his next words, “cum like this.” 

“Awh shit, please no,” you tear up, burying your head between the crook of his neck, “I can’t wait.” 

“Thought you wanted me to fuck you into next week. You can’t do this one little favor for me?” he’s being so mean, and you hate him for it. Haven’t you earned it? “C’mon baby, I thought you wanted me?” 

It’s silent, save for the soft Italian restaurant music playing from whatever tutorial he’s hooked up to his television. It’s terribly cliche, like you’re in the porno version of a European romance movie. He thinks nothing of it, not when your juices are dripping on his thighs, your skin soft and pliant in his grip. Jungkook drums his fingers against your spine, seemingly uncaring that you’re stuffed deep into your womb. 

On the other hand, it’s the only thing you’re acutely aware of. His thick, warm cock is nestled between your folds, right where it should be. You clench once, twice, thankful that this isn’t some crazed wet dream. States of sleep and consciousness have blurred this week, you’re lucky that you made it all the way up to Jungkook’s apartment. 

You can’t cum like this. You need to bait him. You moan, the sound slow and rumbly against your throat as you weave your fingers through his dark tresses. Moving the strands aside to kiss his cold metal earrings you murmur, “I love this, Kookoo. I’ve wanted you all week, I was going crazy. I kept playing last week in my head over and over. I even put in my little vibrator, hoping you’d pull up the app.” 

Jungkook’s teeth clench, and his grip is borderline painful as it digs into your hips. 

“I haven’t been able to cum all week, and I want to do it all over you,” you husk, playing with the roots of his hair. 

You can feel yourself dripping, wetness lubricating you even further and probably staining his thighs and couch with your arousal. Every second that passes is killer, and the fluttering towards your pussy tighten further as Jungkook’s cock twitches in response. Your pussy continues its ministrations, butterfly-like flaps against his hot member that have you vibrating.

“Mm, oh, I’ll cum for you,” and surprisingly, you might be able to. All this dirty talking has gotten you riled up. Just a little bit more and—

Jungkook shoves you off his cock, forcing you to land on the couch. 

“No!” you cry, wiping your face. Your cheeks are ruddied, and you’re annoyed. The coolness of the autumn air has you feeling chilly, and you want to scream at Jungkook for disrupting your orgasm. You feel empty. 

You’re not annoyed for long however, as Jungkook flips you on your back and gives you what you’ve been craving. 

“You glide right in, don’t ya doll,” the friction is deliciously blazing, his hands pushing you further into the large couch as he takes you from behind. Hot, fast smacks against your ass come from the way his balls bounce back and forth as he pistons his cock in and out. “F-fuck, you’re so good to me. So good, I love having you like this. All pretty and dripping, you really know how to make a guy wait, huh?” 

“Mmph! N-no—hng, but I’m y-yours, Kook,” you garble out, and you’re practically eating the throw pillow you’re propped up on as he slams you further into the cushions, so hard you may fall off, “all yours, honey. N-no more waiting. I want you, want you so badly—ah fuck!” 

“It’s worth it, you’re worth it,” he says over and over, his thrusts becoming sporadic and losing their rhythm once he feels you clenching uncontrollably. He presses his two fingers to your sloppy bud, swirling around the juices eagerly. “C-cum, baby doll. You deserve it, yeah? Cum on this cock, let go.” 

You’re starting to see spots, black and white alike. Finally shying away from his cock you rest on your back, but Jungkook doesn’t stop his fingers from flying across your clit. One look at his face and you’re gone. Pretty brown eyes, overflowing with affection. The feeling is different, and it’s the acute pressure between your stomach and pussy that makes you notice what’s going on with your body. The pressure finally releases, your eyes fluttering shut as you rest your cheek on the cushions. You dissolve, a mess on the couch as white hot liquid ejects from your body, spraying Jungkook’s thighs and cushions. 

“Y-you just,” your lover’s mouth is parted open like a baby kitten, uncaring as to how the dark liquid stains his couch fabric. 

“Squirted?” you answer breathlessly, a melty smile on your lips, “y-yeah.” 

 It sets him off, a button left dormant until now. The thatches of hair that surround his cock are dripping with your mess, a cold reminder that he got you to this high. He doesn’t hesitate to slip his cock back into you, and you gasp at the overstimulation. You try not to focus on how your body is a bundle of lit nerves, only to help Jungkook reach his completion. 

“S-so perfect,” he warbles, pressing kisses to your jaw, chin, lips. Each thrust is deep, thick and heady with emotion. “Mm, I wanna cream this pussy sooo badly—mm, all mine, all wet and warm and so so sweet—” 

He cries out your name, biting into your shoulder as your walls fill further with his hot cream. Your thighs are shaking from sensory overload, and Jungkook has to hold you down and soothe you into a state of reality to cling on. 

Satiated, he nuzzles into your chest, feeling absolutely featherlight. 

“T-thank you,” you say gratefully, when at least three out of your five senses return to your body. Your hands dip down to clutch his cheek, pinching lightly at the warm skin.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Jungkook exhales into your breasts, “d-didn’t even feed you my cum yet.” 

You scoff, pinching his cheek again. You’re aware of his softening cock between your folds, ready to seep the efforts of today’s coupling, but your stomach says otherwise. You crane your neck to make note of the kitchen island, staring curiously at the metal pasta roller and the little nests of carby goodness that decorate the cutting board. 

“Feed me pasta first, please. You have all night to feed me dessert.” 

Jungkook giggles into your stomach, he doesn’t mind feeding you in that order. 

bonus.

“So.” 

“So?” you have cream sauce on your lips, happily slurping on an angel hair. 

“You haven’t told me you liked me back yet,” Jungkook rests his palm in the swell of his cheek, content with watching you eat from where he’s standing on the counter. He leans his upper body across the marble table, muscles rippling against his white shirt. 

“Oh, I did!” you’re affronted, swinging your legs on the high chair, “I totally did last week!” 

“Yeah, well. Can you say it while I’m not inside you?” 

“Okay,” you blink, quirking him with a simple smile, “I like you.” 

“That was anticlimactic,” Jungkook jokes at the brevity of your confession, yet his heart betrays the charm he finds in the three words. 

You scoff, jabbing your fork in the little next of springy noodles. “What do you want to hear? I’ve wanted you since I’ve moved in? I think you’re really handsome when you pace the hallway doing work on your phone? I like the way you cook?” 

“Keep going,” Jungkook sing songs, walking over to hug you from behind.

The stool swings back and forth as he rocks the two of you, softly and slowly so you don’t throw up your dinner. He noses into your neck, inhaling your scent and committing it to your memory. 

“Mm, dessert first,” you insist, twirling around the stool so you can wrap your legs around his waist. “And then I can tell you exactly how much I like you,” your fingers play with the buttons of his shirt, walking the pads of your fingers across his chest. 

Jungkook grins, hands reaching to cup your bottom and bring you to his bedroom. Of course, he’s always willing to satisfy your insatiable appetite. 

[baroquebucky]

one and only

a/n: hi guys !! this one shot is inspired by this song by cuco ! I hope u all enjoy,, I went overboard again,, pls tell me what u think :] lyrics are in bold !

in which bucky slowly but surely falls for you

word count: 1.9k

masterlist

I hope that you wanna get to know me

Bucky smiled at you from across the coffee shop, both of you stealing glances at each other for the past hour. Finally mustering up some courage and walking to your booth.

"hi" he had breathed out, a smile on his face as you looked at him with wide eyes, a smile quickly breaking across your face.

"hi" you smiled, extending your hand out for him to shake, "y/n."

Bucky shook your hand quickly, pink dusting his cheeks, "I'm bucky."

"do you wanna sit? I can move some stuff so you have some room" you spoke quickly, fumbling as you moved all your homework and notebooks to the side, stacking them on top of each other.

Bucky slid into the booth with a soft smile, quickly striking up a conversation, flirting with you the whole time.

"I have to go soon" you frowned, putting all your stuff away as bucky got up from the booth. He held a hand out, helping you up and paying for both of your drinks and snacks.

"I had a really nice time" bucky flashed you a smile, your ears heating up.

"I- uh yeah I did too" you replied, looking at your feet as the two of you walked out of the coffee shop.

The two of you exchanged numbers, a bashful grin on both of your faces as you parted ways.

"text me when you get home" you had told him out of habit, blushing when you realized you had only met him today.

"I mean you don't have to" you added, fumbling with the string on your backpack.

"only if you do the same" he replied, a smirk on his face as your mouth formed an 'o' shape.

Bucky had texted you first, making your heart flutter. exchanging a few texts that night, bucky decided to get real brave.

I hope we can hang out again soon :)

And sure enough you did, meeting up at his favorite coffee shop only three days later. Getting to know each others interests.

As time passed you and bucky became closer, getting lunch together, texting each other often, having late phone calls almost everyday.

baby hit me up if you get lonely

You and bucky never really opened up to each other, even after one month of your little coffee and lunch dates. And so there you were, staring at your bedroom ceiling with an empty heart, dried tears on your face.

Your phone vibrated next to you, lighting up the room. You let it ring, not having enough energy to pick it up.

Bucky grew worried, you never just left him hanging like that, you always replied with why you didnt pick up within minutes. It had been an hour already.

everything okay ?

your phone buzzed and you looked over, seeing his missed call and texts. Sighing you replied, not wanting to bother him.

yea, just tired

Bucky frowned, his stomach twisting as he read your reply. Thinking for a moment before he texted you once again.

im here if you need me or need anything

Your bottom lip quivered, fresh tears streaming down your face.

do you think you can come over

your heart was heavy, you were stressed, tired and you wanted someone to tell you it was gonna be okay, instead you were alone in the dark, in an empty apartment with only the sounds of the city keeping you company.

on my way

Bucky was sweet. Bucky was caring and he was everything good in the world. Listening to you as you cried, dumping all your worries out into the air, rubbing your back and handing you tissues, getting you water.

He listened, he reassured you and he helped you through it, never being pushy and always reminding you that you were strong enough to get through it.

"and if im not?" you had whispered, looking at the floor with teary eyes.

"then im here to fight for you."

I know im not confused, my feelings here are true

Bucky opened up to you a few nights later, after ignoring your texts all day you showed up at his apartment, snacks in one hand and coffee in the other.

You listened to him vent, letting out all he had bottled up, all his guilt, his regret, his pain, everything.

You didnt judge him, you just got up, sat closer to him and hugged him, holding him tightly. Bucky relaxed in your arms, burying his face in your shoulder and letting himself cry, allowing himself to be vulnerable for once.

You woke up in each others arms the next morning, blushing when you both realized.

Bucky was red, you were about to start sweating, telling him you were gonna head home and would text him when you arrived.

After that he found himself more nervous around you, butterflies when he saw you. For the first time in decades he found himself styling his hair more and putting effort into his outfits.

on gloomy days like these wishing you were next to me

You sat on your couch alone, rain hitting your window steadily. You sent a text to bucky, asking him when he would be back from a mission he got dragged along. He replied quicker than you expected, your heart beating a little faster.

just a couple more days :)

okay hurry back safe I miss u :/

Bucky choked on his own spit at your text, Sam looking at him as if he was insane. Bucky ignored him, replying to your message

I miss you too dollface

You read the text over, squealing and jumping around at the pet name, face hot and stomach fluttering.

when im feeling puzzled, you put me back together

Bucky frowned, barely listening to you explaining a documentary you watched the other day.

"buck?" you asked, setting down your phone and looking at the super soldier, worry in your eyes.

"sorry I- what about the jungle?" he questioned, trying to push away his thoughts.

"talk to me James" you pleaded, hands moving to hold his own.

A few moments passed, quiet as bucky gathered his thoughts, tears welling in his eyes before he blinked them away and began talking.

"what if a part of him is still there? what if im not who Steve thought I was? what if im not what people want me to be?" bucky looked at you, teary eyed and broken.

"you're free bucky" you told him, scooting closer to him and he nodded.

"Steve would be proud of you, I mean look at you, you have a furnished apartment, you have friends, you're working with sam, you're building your life" you spoke, smiling at him.

"you shouldn't care what others want you to be, be who you want to be. Be who you are now" you squeezed his hands, letting him gather his thought as you stopped talking.

"am I good?" he mumbled, a small frown on his face.

"you are" you replied without hesitation.

"you like me as who I am now?" you nodded.

"me too" he smiled, leaning his head on your shoulder, your fingers brushing through his hair.

I wanna be your one and only

Bucky finally introduced you to sam, you were excited, having heard so much about him.

"what if he hates me" you worried, stopping in your tracks as you paced buckys living room.

"he'll love you doll" bucky reassured you, a knock at the door making your heart thump in your ribcage as you waited for bucky to open it.

And love you Sam did, talking your ear off and chatting with you all night. You struggled to catch your breath between his jokes, stomach hurting as he continued.

bucky hated it. only he had made you laugh that hard, the crinkles by your eyes were reserved for him and his bad jokes. bucky got up quietly and went to grab a cup of water, sam quickly excusing himself and following him into his kitchen.

"you are down bad" sam laughed and bucky rolled his eyes at him, gulping down his water, setting the cup down, eyes softening as he saw you on his couch, replying to some texts.

"you should ask her out soon, or else I will" sam teased, knowing it would push the super soldiers button.

"sam is actually leaving right now!" bucky smiled, sam rolled his eyes before playing along.

"aw, it was just getting good" you smiled, getting up and going to give sam a hug, wishing him a good night before he left.

You and bucky sat on the couch, the sounds from the movie filling the room.

"green isn't your color" you smirked, bucks eyes went wide.

"what?" he questioned, heart racing.

"cmon im not stupid, you were cranky the whole time sam was cracking jokes" you shrugged your shoulders, eyeing bucky.

Bucky was quiet, Sams words ringing in his ears.

"I like you y/n and I've liked you for a while and I-" he stopped himself, not wanting to say something he would regret. You let him think, heartbeat ringing in your ears as his confession rattled around in your brain.

"I want to be the one making you laugh, I want to spend rainy days with you and I want to go to the park with you on sunny days" bucky spoke, looking at you.

"I wanna be your one and only" bucky ended, eyes searching your face as he finished, worried about what you were thinking.

You had the biggest smile on your face, fidgeting with your fingers. Looking up your eyes met his blue ones, stomach in knots and heart skipping a beat.

"ask me then" you stated, never breaking eye contact.

"will you be mine y/n?" he spoke, voice trembling, he fidgeted with his fingers.

"of course" you replied, crashing your lips onto his, smiling into the kiss, breaking out into giggles when he pulled away and peppered kisses all over your face.

and if never is forever, then lets always be together

Sam pat bucky on the back, giving him a reassuring smile.

"Steve would be so happy for you" he whispered to him, a smile breaking onto his face, nodding to sam and looking up.

The whole team was there, sam standing behind him as his best man, your family with bright faces as the music began and everyone looked back.

The doors opened and it felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. His mouth fell open at the sight of you. His cheeks hurt from smiling so hard but he didn't care, tears falling from his face as you smiled brightly at him.

You spent the whole ceremony the same way you had met. Stealing glances at each other and blushing deeply when you caught each other, holding back giggles and brushing it off as clearing your throat.

You were marrying the light of your life, the person who was there for you when you couldn't see the light, the one who always supported you and fought for you when you couldn't. Helping you grow into the person you wanted to become.

He was marrying the light of his life, the person who was his sun during his worst times, shining brightly for him and picking him up when he was upset. Helping him become the person he was meant to be.

[bonvoyagenoona]

These days i’ve been dreaming about this scenario where something very heartbreaking happens to OC so she’s crying in bed at night devastated and Jimin her bestfriend (who’s also in love with her but never got a chance with her coz she was always in a relationship) is somehow in bed with her comforting her and then they start kissing and shes sniffling and there’s a lot of breathing and out of nowhere she’s like i need you to fuck me and jimin’s like ??? And she’s like what am i that repulsive and he’s like no no at all with heart eyes, so they start fucking so passionately and lovingly and there’s a lot of communication like he checks up on her with every move he makes “do you like that?” “Is this okay?” And he thinks she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seeeen..

Ugh ok im sorry that you had to read this but i can’t stop thinking about being comforted and kissing jimins lucious lips :(

Don’t apologize! What a kind, soft, sweet, comforting moment!! Ahh thank you for sharing it with us! Made me think of When Harry Met Sally, and High Fidelity, and of a BFF Jimin fic I wrote (Bear with Me !!), but it also brought a scene to mind... a little bedtime comfort and fluff before I finally nod off...

A car drives by. Or maybe the garbage truck. Is it that late at night? Or, actually, early in the morning?

How long did you go?

You can feel Jimin next to you. Still trying to catch his breath. Just like you are. Chests rising and falling. Eyes trained on respective spots on your ceiling.

His voice is soft, like it usually is this late. Or, actually, early.

“How do you feel?”

Your panting pushes the words out.

“I’m... I feel...”

You turn to him excitedly, contemplatively running a hand over your bare chest.

“...good.”

He turns to you, eyes flying open. 

“Yeah? Good??”

Stunned, you answer, “Yeah...” Your sad smile stretches across your face. “Still... y’know...”

Jimin watches as your eyes grow distant, patiently waiting as your expression morphs from contentment. To consternation. To grief, that heartbreaking grief that led him to your door, and then your living room, and then your bed. To surprise. To joy. And, happily, back to contentment.

His heart swells when your focus slowly comes back to him. And he hasn’t even heard what you’re about to say.

“But good. Really good.”

He grins. He wonders if you can tell how fast his heart is pumping. If you know that it’s pumping even faster than just moments before.

You nestle your temple into your pillow, thankful that its kept its fluffiness despite. “Why is this... Why have we never...”

You raise your eyebrows.

"I-I mean, like... Had you ever thought about doing i---”

“YES.”

A tender, lively laugh floats out of you, but Jimin looks gravely serious.

"I’ve thought about it. A lot. So many times. I hope that’s not weird to say. Or, like, that it’s not weird to hear.”

"Well, we already fucked, so.”

It’s Jimin’s turn to chuckle, as he replays the way you came for him. Moaned for him. “Yeah. True.”

“So?” you repeat. “Why didn’t we?”

In all his thinking about it, Jimin has come to several answers that he had made peace with years ago. Life. Timing. Fit. You were always with someone. He wasn’t worthy. You didn’t care for him, crave him, the way that he cared for and craved you. It was better to stay friends, especially over the alternative of being nothing else. 

But now that your starry-eyed, satiated gaze is settling into his, he realizes that none of these are actual answers.  

And he isn’t completely sure if any of this is real.

So, he does what people usually do when faced with this kind of blurry freedom. 

He goes with it. 

Even if it’s a delusion. 

How bad can a delusion be if it’s the kind where you feel good, and he gets to be the reason why?

"I don’t know,” he admits. And then, his mischievous eyes zigzag back and forth before his perfect lips smile and say, “But... I’m glad... that’s changed.”

You feel them. Hours ago, you didn’t think you ever would again. 

Butterflies.

“Me too,” you coo warmly, snuggling into him, as he wraps his arms around you, and rests his luscious lips on your forehead, “me too.”

The first tides of sleep are starting to wash ashore.

You try to say it before the thought is carried out to sea and lost forever.

“Can we do it again?”

Jimin laughs softly. 

“Yes."

You let out a happy, warm moan, the muscles in your body finally, finally relaxing, the waves of slumber starting to pull you in.

“But right now, it’s time to sleep. Hmm?”

You nod, nose pressing into his throat, forehead gently hitting his chin, his lips pressing kisses on each touch.

[nakamoto-aesthetics]

Phone Sex | j.jh

synopsis: you were horny and couldn’t cum properly so you decide to facetime your boyfriend

pairing: boyfriend!jaehyun x fem!reader

genre: smut, a crumb of fluff

warning: masturbation (fem!male)

word count: 1.6k

“baby?” jaehyuns raspy voice fills your ears, suggesting that he was sleeping prior to this call like you’d thought.

“hi babe, I can’t sleep so I called you but you’re… sleeping” you looked at him, visibly disappointed. how were you gonna get off now? you felt bad about calling him this late.

“no, it’s okay baby” he says lowly and holds the phone higher, resting the back of his hand against his eyes. you could see his collarbone peeking out from the loose shirt he was wearing; his hair going in different directions, his slightly puffy face and lips. all of it turned you on.

you slip your right hand into your pants and begin to tease yourself over your panties, moving your index finger up and down your clothed slit. you close your eyes for a split second letting out a small staggered breath.

“so why can’t you sleep?” you hear shuffling from the other side of the screen and see him moving up to turn on his light.

“because I can’t stop thinking about you,” this was in fact true, it was why you were in this position now. you tried to use your imagination, pictures, videos any thing to get the boy off your mind before but none of it worked. you just needed something of him in real time so this is what you came up with.

“well, you woke me up from a dream… that you were in so in a way I was thinking about you too” he takes his hand off his eyes and smiles softly, his dimples showing; his voice was still raspy and deep in this moment. the whole scenery set you off and you had to slip your hands under your panties, feeling all your wetness pool at your fingertips. you let out a soft noise, your face contouring with it.

“what was that?” jaehyuns eyebrows are furrowed.

“uh… I hurt myself, so every time I move my leg it hurts” you quickly make up a lie.

“aw baby,” he pouts and that’s how you know some part of him bought it. “I wish I could kiss it better. what happened?”

“…I hit it on the table leg when I was getting up” you bit your lip, careful not to let out any moans as you watch him bit his lip with a concerned look.

“my poor baby. i’ll kiss it better when I come over tomorrow”

“yes you will” you say with a devilish look. what you were thinking was very dirty, enough to make you throb excessively. you slip your index finger inside yourself, thinking about him eating you out. you slowly thrust your finger into yourself, releasing low, throaty moans.

“y/n” jaehyun says firmly, his tone changing almost immediately. you hum innocently, knowing that any second he was gonna catch on. you paid attention to him, slowing down your fingers.

“what are you doing?” jaehyun was definitely awake now, that was obvious. his whole face was in the camera and his eyebrow was cocked up, looking at you.

“uh… i’m totally not getting off to you” you fake laugh and advert your eyes. you could’ve lied but having to make a lie was tiring and at the same time you kind of wanted him to know.

“you little slut, I should’ve gone with my gut feeling” jaehyun shakes his head thinking deeply before looking back at you. “so you called me at 3 in the morning to get off?”

“that’s right jae now if you will excuse me” you begin to move your finger again, speeding up since he’s already figured it out. on the flip slide, jaehyun whispers the words “fucking slut” and continues to watch you attentively for your facial expressions; it wasn’t long after you notice this and let out a string of profanities, breathily moaning.

“babygirl, let me see that pretty pussy. you wanna open up for me?” you don’t say anything and put the phone down, hurriedly striping your lower half completely naked. you grab the phone and position it between your legs so your legs were spread on either side of the phone. the phone itself was in the center allowing him to see everything.

“damn, look at how wet you are princess. I would lick all of it up in an instant” you hear movement in the background on the other side but don’t think any of it. you slide your hand to your hole, rubbing circles around it, wanting to tease him and yourself.

“jae” you bite your lip, moaning softly.

“babygirl” he bites his lip. he could still see some of your face from the new angle which he was thankful for. he looked to see the way your face reacted to things.

you slide your finger inside and start to go at normal speed, you use your other hand to tease him by running your hands all over your body. you hear him grunt, along with sounds coming from his side, sounds of… small skin slapping and that’s when you put it together.

“jae?”

“yes baby?”

“are you…” you trail off by yourself and he hums, confirming your thought. you bite your lip and speed up a little bit; god you found that so hot.

“now listen to me pretty girl, you’re gonna do exactly what I say alright?” he says, expecting no question to come from it. you hum obediently and wait for his first direction.

“add another finger” he bites his lip harshly and you do as he says, adding another digit. you moan aloud when you feel your pussy stretching. you hear him grunt and the sound of skin slapping gets faster.

“jae I want to see you too” you whine.

“right, sorry baby” you watch him as he repositions his phone. you have to stop yourself from cuming right then and there once his phone is set up and directed right at his area. the farthest you could see was up to his mid stomach and the lowest was his upper thighs. the sight was so hot especially because of his abs and the way they contracted when he stroked his dick. you wanted to lick him up and down. jaehyun had a hot ass body, everyone knew that but you were the only one who got to touch it.

you move your fingers faster, causing him to stroke himself faster. his dick is so pretty, you thought. it may have been weird to verbally admit that but never had it been hard to express it; you often gave him blow jobs and hand jobs just because you loved his dick and the way it reacted to your every move, plus it was just undeniably pretty. this moment was so hot for both of you. the two of you watching each other get off to the other felt so sexy to you.

“jae i-im g-gonna-” you let out a choked moan.

“add another finger and cum for me pretty girl” he groans as his hand starts to speed up. moans and grunts start to fall from his mouth as do yours. you add one more finger just like he says and you let out a lewd moan. your pussy contracting around your fingers as you begin to thrust at an animalistic pace as does his hand, groans and moans are released from both of you, mixing together beautifully.

“jaehyun!” you scream as your hips go into a frenzy, pushing out your warm cum, letting it drip down your centerfold. all meanwhile, his cum spurts out of the slit and land on his abs, thighs, and of course dick. damn was that hot? you swore you would’ve licked him clean if you were there.

“damn babygirl” he breathes heavily and gets up walking out out the frame for a few seconds before returning with a towel to clean himself up. he was all on display for you and so were you considering you hadn’t moved from your position.

“jae” you whine and pout, he hums in response and looks at the screen. “two things, you’re so fucking hot and I want cuddles” he chuckles at that and continues to clean himself.

“two things, you’re the hot one and tomorrow i’ll cuddle you babygirl, I promise” he states and you scrunch your nose, shaking your head at his first statement. he walks out of frame again and comes back with a pair of boxers on. he sits down on his bed and grabs the phone, returning to the position he was in when he first answered the phone.

“clean up babe” he says softly, looking at the mess of liquids all over your pussy.

“i will babe don’t worry” you reach down and grab the phone, pulling it up to you so that he was only looking at your face. jaehyun hated to sit in his cum and so he hated when you did it. “I guess I should go to sleep so then tomorrow will come” he smiles sweetly and nods.

“okay, i’ll see you tomorrow. goodnight I love you pretty girl” jaehyun reaches up to turn off his light and it gets dark, the only light present being the moon, and it was now illuminating on jaehyuns face, highlighting his features.

“goodnight, I love you too jae” you create a kiss sound with your lips and he does the same before hanging up the phone.

you place your phone down, quickly cleaning yourself up with a nearby shirt because you were too lazy to get up and grab a towel like jae. you sigh and pull the comforter up to your neck; not bothering to put on any clothes. you’ll wash the sheets later you decide, closing your eyes, and sighing happily as you bite your lip.

so fucking worth it.

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