#i didn’t know it was possible to drive yourself crazy with your own drawing

[cada4us]

JOHNNY ! LOWELL SPENCER! STORM !

last time you all will have to see this. i’m an attention whore so ofc i share it everywhere

[thecapricunt1616]

Lily of the Valley - (c.b. oneshot)

𝓢𝓷𝓲𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓽 (𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓑𝓣𝓒): “Yes, what is all this baby?” You asked, motioning to the roses. “Did I forget somethin? Our anniversary isn’t for another 2 months” you asked a bit nervously. Carmen wasn’t a stickler for dates, but it would break your heart if you were to forget something important. “No- no. I just…just love you- I wanted to show you, and especially after this week I know I’ve been crazy busy, and I’ve been comin’ in late and leavin’ early, and…I just wanted to show my best girl how much she means t’me” he kissed your forehead sweetly and you felt a blush creeping to your cheeks. 

O/S INSPO:  Lily of the Valley Soothing, calming, draws peace and tranquility, and repels negativity. Assists in empowering happiness and mental powers. Married couples should plant Lily of the Valley in their first garden to promote longevity of the marriage.  POSTED DATE:03/30/2024 W/C: 4,114

A/N: FINALLY!!!! I am so sorry this took forever! This O/S is based on this adorable request from the LOML @daysofyellowroses - please check out her blog! I hope this satisfies your Carmy Proposing idea! I'm sorry it took so long i've been sick, but we’re back baby!!! Requests are opennnn y'all!

WARNINGS FOR BTC: Smut, Swearing, NO USE OF Y/N - As little physical description as possible, fluffy Carmen, OC Carmy - (He's more emotionally grown obvi hahah)

You pushed the heavy, bulging tote bags full of groceries up your arm as you walked back to Your&Carmy’s shared Condo Building. The wildflower seeds you’d thrown on the little patches of grass on your walks to the train, along the sidewalk on your block had finally started to bloom. Adorable tiny little flowers in vibrant shades of blue, pink, purple, yellow, and white peeking out over the sidewalk's edge. 

Spring had most definitely sprung in Chicago by this point. Your commute whilst walking to work down Michigan Ave, passing the stunning array of tulips, had told you that fiercely every time you walked to and from the train this week on the way to work. It was finally Friday, and you couldn’t be happier. 

Carmen had been so busy this week- busier than normal. You’d usually just hang out with your best friends to fill that pathetic, lonely void while grading papers and doing your own assignments- but they were busy this week too! You were convinced the universe had bound you to loneliness this week, so naturally, all you wanted to do was get home, crawl into bed, and sleep- until Carmy came in around 2 to 3 am, and get that savored 15 minutes of cuddles after his shower, before exhaustion came over you again and you fell back asleep. 

You used your special key fob to get in the door of your condo’s shared building, which to your standards was very luxurious- it included amenities you’d never even thought of. You and Carmy had moved in together 3 months ago, it took a lot of convincing on your end. You and Carmy had lived on opposite ends of town, so every time you’d see eachother, (which was very often) -  it would be an hour's drive that he insisted- or, him losing the battle- and allowing you to take the train back all those stops. 

You weren’t particularly religious,  it was more just a personal preference - that you would be at least engaged before you were to move in together. Especially before having a mortgage together. You’d told Carmy this, and he’d given you the same answer each time over the last two years he’d been begging - “Baby we know we’re in love, you know we’re eachothers forever person - we tell eachother every day! We’ve been together 3 years, Let me take care of you” 

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be taken care of- it’s just…you liked working. You loved your job, you’d went to school and earned a masters degree for Christ sake, and were currently working on your PHD. You couldn’t ever see yourself giving that up, and moving in with a boyfriend and him insisting on paying all the bills made you fear you’d fall pregnant, and then your professional life would be over. 

But, Carmen had insisted to you he wasn’t interested in children unless you were. You were sure at one point you never wanted them, but you were becoming more afraid, because seeing as amazing an uncle Carmen was, how naturally kind and understanding he was of children- it brought out something in you. It was so sudden that you could imagine turning your shared library / art studio into a nursery during slow time at work. 

You walked down the hall, in no rush to be home. The only presence waiting being your cat, Truffle, Carmy had insisted on the name due to his deep black fur. 

You approached the door, confused as to why you were hearing…music? From your apartment? You shook the hope of Carmy being home this early away, not wanting to be dissapointed. The neighbors downstairs must be blasting that same kind of jazz instrumental Carmy listens to so loud that you heard it through the floor. 

You unlock the door, and sure enough the music playing softly through the condo gets a tad louder but the first thing to catch your eye was the white and pink rose petals making a trail to the kitchen. You heard Carmy humming lightly, the sound of chopping on the cutting board. 

“Bear?” You quickly nudge the door shut with your hip, not even bothering to take your shoes off and rushing down the hall into the kitchen. Sitting atop the breakfast bar, was a vase packed with beautiful pink and white roses. 

He looks up from the cutting board “My favorite girl” he stops what he was doing immediately coming and taking the bags from your shoulders, setting them down before greeting you with a sweet kiss. He cupped your cheeks gently, pulling you in to him so you were flush together with his other hand.  

“You used our card f’that right?” He asked softly when he pulled away. You roll your eyes a bit, he had insisted you get a shared credit card, and that you purchase everything with it- and at the end of the month, he will show you the statement, and only pay a quarter of the total, just another one of the ways he assured every financial burden of yours was eased significantly. 

“Yes, what is all this baby?” You asked, motioning to the roses. “Did I forget somethin? Our anniversary isn’t for another 2 months” you asked a bit nervously. Carmen wasn’t a stickler for dates, but it would break your heart if you were to forget something important. 

“No- no. I just…just love you- I wanted to show you, and especially after this week I know I’ve been crazy busy, and I’ve been comin’ in late and leavin’ early, and…I just wanted to show my best girl how much she means t’me” he kissed your forehead sweetly and you felt a blush creeping to your cheeks. 

“That’s so sweet Bear. Thank you I love you, this is…no one’s ever done this- oh my god- are those balloons?” You giggled, seeing heart shaped foil balloons tied to your chair at the table and he smiled proudly. 

“Mmhmm, the lady at the flower place said that - we can talk about it later. You wanna cook w’me? You can just watch if you want?” He asked, gently brushing his fingers through your hair. 

“I never turn down a lesson from the best, let me go get changed real quick” you headed toward the bedroom and he stopped you by your hand pulling you back into his chest, kissing your neck with wet open mouth kisses earning a giggle that you couldn’t contain. 

“Mmm- don’t go in there right now, it’s for later. I already got your pajamas right here” he said going over to the couch and grabbing your favorite pair of sweatpants and his old ‘the beef’ tshirt that to you was the most comfortable thing in the world, especially when he wore it to bed for a few nights before giving it back. 

“For later huh?” You muse, taking off your heeled booties and unbuttoning your slacks before peeling them off and trading them for your soft fuzzy grey sweatpants. 

“Mmhmm” he hummed in response and took your pants for you and your blouse and bra as well, bringing them to the laundry room as you put the shirt on and got your hair situated into a bun. 

“What are we cooking today, chef?” You asked, heading over to the kitchen to see there were little bowls of vegetables that have been precut and you gasp happily. “Stop- are we really?” You giggled. 

“I told you that it’s easy baby but you hate eggplant so ratatouille isn’t gonna be something you’re a big fan of” he chuckled. You had watched the movie with him, and told him that the ratatouille dish looked insanely delicious and that you wanted him to make it for you, but he told you your aversion to eggplant would probably turn you off the dish. 

“But there isn’t eggplant” you said looking over the dishes filled with various vegetables. 

“That’s right, this is princess ratatouille. I’ve been figurin’ out different vegetables w’Syd that would work for it, we finally got it right. We have zucchini and a few different squashes, and we have onion and garlic, tomato, bell pepper, everything you like. I think you’ll love it baby.” He said rubbing your back gently. 

“Of course I’m gonna love it bear, I love everything we make together you have the magic touch. So what’s my job?” You asked eagerly. 

“You my special sous chef, are gonna help put the veggies in and I’m gonna do the sauce” He kissed your temple gently. 

“Ok! Let me get my apron” You said, happily turning to the drawer you kept your aprons in.

“Wait-” he said, holding your arm. You look back at him and he looked…nervous.”Is…something wrong?” You questioned, brows furrowed slightly in concern.

“No- no I um….i got you a new one” he said sheepishly, walking over to the island and opening up the cupboard beneath you never used. 

“Oh- ok..Leveling up are we?” You joked, happily leaning against the counter. 

“Jesus-” he chuckled, “Close y’r fuckin eyes- carnival psychic” he teases and you laughed, obliging and closing your eyes.

“Carnival psychic?” you asked and he came over gently putting bundle of fabric in your awaiting hands.

“I swear t’god- you went snoopin’? Open your eyes” he said. You opened your eyes, looking into your hands and seeing an apron. It was white, just like his, and folded perfectly. In thick black letters, intricately painted, ‘ Will You Marry Me? ‘ Adorned with a little red heart over the center pocket that had a square shaped bump.

You felt all of the blood leave your face, your knees feeling wobbly, your mouth gaping in to an O shape, as you stare down at the apron. “Where did you get this?” you whispered, completely awestruck. 

“I-I…um…made it?” he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I- shit. Fuck- is this not how you pictured it? I’m so fuckin sorry babe- I-I thought…I dunno- like.. You wanted it private? Cause I know you said you’d never-” he’s interrupted by your lips crashing on his in a fervent wanting kiss, a mix of spit and teeth and lips and tongues, he moans softly into your mouth, squeezing your waist.

You were pressed together so firmly that the small box dug into your ribs, eventually pulling away from him with shaking hands and reaching into the pocket, pulling out the small black velvet box. You ever so carefully opened it, your breath catching in your throat when you saw the absolutely breathtaking ring.

“I-it’s not uh..not a diamond- cause I know you said-” you interrupt him

“Princesses and Queens don’t wear diamonds, they wear crystals” you finished, staring at the beautifully cut opal, at least 8 carats, banded by a intricate edwardian band… nothing short of a ring for a Goddess.

“But..But- this one…it does- it has both…because uh” he swallows thickly. “It…in my mind- when I s-saw it, it represented your soul, and your physical body.. And I liked that. Cause- y’re my diamond, but you’re also my queen, my everything, baby. Like how - how you said that…you wished your aura was opal? It is. It is, angel. And every time you look at that, I want you to remember that you’re beautiful from your diamond exterior, to your opal soul” he brushed his finger over the ring, before meeting your gaze once again.

He gently wiped the tears that were running down your cheeks freely, hot and wet and open. It was rare that Carmy genuinely used his words rather then his actions to express his love for you, so you were nothing short of savoring this. “Holy fucking shit” you laughed, shaking your head and looking down at the ring box. “Put it on my hand” you held your left hand out. 

He chuckled a bit, “so… yes? You will?” he asked carefully, pulling the ring out of the box.

“Are you kidding, YES! Put this ring on my finger and fuck me dumb- this is all i’ve ever wanted, Bear, I fucking love you- and youre asking if I want you to be my husband?! I’ve wanted nothing more for two years- at least!” you shake your left hand for emphasis, a wide large grin on your face.

He carefully slid the ring over your manicured finger, and it just made you cry more how it fit perfectly. “How do you know my size?!” you asked, since most of the vintage rings he'd bought you were adjustable so it didn't matter the size of the rings he’d gotten for you before.

He chuckled a bit, “so- y’re ring…y’know the one…y’thought you lost it at Chipotle like…ahhh- 8 months ago now? In the bathroom? Y’took it off at the table, you wore it on your ring finger so I had to take my chance. You kept sayin how it was like- the only ring you’d found that fit without takin’ it to the jewler. So uh” he dug in his jeans pocket, placing your beloved vintage ring with your starsign on it in your palm.

“I got that ring, based on the size. I got it uhhh…sorry dont be offended- it’s not new… I got it at an estate sale of this lady- it was crazy- the way I came across it babe… like fate. It was when Syd and I went to New York for that interview, she literally dragged me to this sale cause she said the lady who died was said to have a bunch of vintage fur and stuff she was looking f’somethin- anyway. We met the lady’s daughter- Stella? I think it was? Doesn’t matter… but she um..said her Ma was some crazy astrology nut, also said she only wore crystals. So I took a look… that was the first box I opened. And y’ring on my pinky, it fit perfect, so I tried it on- it fit like a glove. I’m glad we don't have to size it. Asked her if it was real, she said - her Ma told ‘er some…. Like life coach? Er- astrologer life coach author? Gave it to ‘er on a trip to Jamaica in the 60’s. Told ‘er ‘this ring will someday be worn on a hand proudly as a devotion of true love’- Miss- No! Madame ! Madame Stardust. Nutty name right?” he chuckled a bit. 

You smiled proudly at the ring, a devotion of true love indeed. “I think” you turned to the counter, stacking the bowls of vegetables together and putting them in the fridge as you friskily countered “you are not going in to work at all next week- wifes orders” you walked over to him, hips swaying. “And after you fuck me absolutely stupid” you grabbed his collar, pulling him in so your faces were meer inches apart “Oh- and we talk about how this mademe stardust? Confirms that our souls are indeed woven together like a fucking wicker basket” you kiss him roughly, weaving your fingers through his dirty blonde curls and tugging firmly. 

He moaned into your mouth, his hands trailing down and squeezing your ass firmly. You hummed in satisfaction, leaning against him and he stumbled back, back, back, pushing the bedroom door open with a squeak. You looked up, Breaking your kiss with wide eyes.

All throughout the bedroom, were printed photos of you and Carmy throughout the years, suspended with clear wire so it was as if the photos were floating midair. You clasp your hands over your mouth, admiring all the hard work and pure thought that had went into the gesture. You looked over all the photos, three years of memories hanging before you like a gallery of love surrounding you, all of your fondest happiest memories at every flicker of your eyes.

“Carmen” you whispered, walking forward and admiring each and every photograph���

He comes behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. 

“Y’know how you said no work next week…” he said softly, kissing up your neck with wet, sexy, open mouthed kisses. “We leave Sunday… F’Cyprus” He said hotly in your ear, his breath tickling your neck causing a moan to escape your lips as he gently lifts your shirt, palming your breast gently.

“Is- is that-” you breathe out

“We’re getting a tour of Aphrodites Baths” he said softly, rolling your taught nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Ah- y-you remembered?” you gasped, he let out a soft deep chuckle, Kissing the corner of your mouth and gently laying you down upon the soft sheets of your shared bed. 

“I’d have proposed over a year ago- when I got the fuckin’ ring if i coulda gotten us the tour sooner” he muttered into your skin, tugging off your- (his) shirt, leaving supple, gentle kisses over your stomach and up your ribs.

“Mm- are we- can we swim?” I asked hopefully.

He  gently wipes your tears away, “No” he said a bit sadly, “We can dip our hands… some asshole ruined swimming for people years ago…before we met…but- we were also gonna Parga Greece, baby. We’re spending 2 days in Cyprus, then flying to Parga on a charter- we can swim, fuck, do whatever in those waters baby. Amidst the Goddess of the Underworld f’five whole days” he smirked and you gasped, as if he’d gotten you the moon on a string.

“The Acheron River?” you whisper and he nodded, gently rubbing his thumb over your lips.

“That is the sexiest thing i’ve ever heard in my life- you’re gonna make me cum in the 2nd most famous river of Hell?” you giggled and he snorts a laugh, pushing you on the bed gently.

“Fuck yeah, you little fuckin’ freak” he teased, tugging off your panties and sweatpants in one swift pull, leaving you soaked and bare before him.

You gasped at the rough action, quickly being soothed by soft, sweet kisses over your hipbones. 

“I fuckin smell y’kitten fuck” he growled, kissing the inner of your thigh in the way that made you creen. 

“Shit- good- right? If y’compared me to a seafood market i’d break your nose” you teased, hooking the crooks of your knees over his shoulders, shivering when he leaned in closer, his hot breath directly over your clit- his lapis blue eyes boring into yours.

“That question doesn’t deserve an answer” he grumbled hotly, spreading your folds with his fingers and admiring the wet, slick, mess in front of him. “S’fuckin pretty princess- fuckin’ prettiest pussy in the world” he nearly moaned, burrying his mouth where you needed him most, eyes fixed on yours.

You couldn’t even make a sound- a hot breathy gasp escaping your slack-jawed stance as your head flopped back on the mattress with a soft bounce. “Mmmmm shit” Carmy hummed, satisfied with your taste as if he was devouring his favorite dessert.

“F-Ffuuuckkk” you whimpered out pathetically, voice cracking and bleeding out between the fracture lines of your hot intense pleasure.

“Mmhmm-mmmhmmm” Carmy mumbled confidently against your now firm clit, tongue flicking over it at a mind-numbing pace, bringing you right to the edge and hanging you there by a single finger.

“Ahhhh-Ahhhh-Fuck!! Carmy! Oh- ohhhh!!!” You whined, spine pointing in an arch off the mattress, your hips and thighs quivering and shaking wildly as your orgasm crashed over you like hot lightning before you could even warn him, or know yourself it was so close.

“Goooood girl, thats it- mm- my good fuckin’ girl- Y’gonna be my fuckin’ wife baby? Mmm? Gonna be mine? F’rever?” He grumbled, placing a gentle kiss to your clit before placing gentle yet firm pressure over it with the pad of his tongue that made your hips buck with a mind of their own.

He chuckled slightly into your heat, the vibration causing you to whine pathetically. “Y-yes-yes-fuck i’mfuckinyoursBear-y’gonnamakemey’wife? Yeah? Gonna make me Mrs. fuckin Carmen Berzatto?” you slurred, pulling him into a messy wanting kiss, soughing at the flavor of your core coating his spit.

“Fuckin- spit in my fucking mouth- claim me” you groaned. He smiled against your lips, pulling away slightly, a thick hot string of saliva connecting the two of you.

“So fuckin dirty” he grumbled with a smirk “Open that filthy fucking mouth” he ordered, getting quiet for a moment as he gathered saliva in the front of his mouth.

You obeyed him immediately - your jaw going slack, tongue stuck out ever so slightly and eyes fluttered shut. Then- you felt it, hot, sweet, salty saliva coating your tongue, you groan at the flavor as it continues pooling over your tastebuds. “Do not fucking swallow yet- greedy girl” he tapped your chin firmly, before pulling your jaw open wider with Tthe pad of his thumb. 

“Stick out that pretty little tongue” he grumbled, you obeyed with a smile, opening wide as you could, sticking your tongue out far, showing off the creamy white saliva he’d dressed your tongue in, so much it was seeping down onto your chin, threatening to coat the front and back of your throat.

“Good girl- that's my good little kitten” he purred, “How d’you want me princess?” he gently collected the excess saliva from your chin on his thumb, sucking it off his digit hotly as he awaits your response while you swallow gratefully, the taste setting your soul ablaze.

“I want you to fucking claim me, Carmy, holy fuck- use me, worship me, fuck me like a goddamn animal- whatever you fucking want- please” you begged after you’d savored the taste while you swallowed, his sky blue eyes going dark as navy slacks with lust at the admission. 

“Yeah? Why not all three?” he pushed you down to the mattress by your throat, not hard enough to bruise- but hard enough for the breath to leave your lungs and your core to throb so hard you were clenching your thighs, trying to give any solace of pressure to your swollen aching clit.

“P-please” you stuttered, writhing against the mattress and he chuckled darkly. 

“Are we a little needy? Mmm princess?” he pushes your knees apart with his thigh, aiding the throbbing pressure with his strong fingers, rubbing firm, slow circles into the twitching bud that made your hips snap into the mattress and head fall back to the bed, eyes rolling back with a sharp gasp of pleasure. 

“Pl-please-” you gasp out, spine arching sharply as he replaced his fingers with his mouth on your clit, 2 fingers slipping inside of you with no resistance due to the fact your core was so soaked it was beginning to pool at the dip of your bum and soak the sheets. The squelching as he pumped into your g-spot mixed with your high-pitched moans and frisky growls was absolute sin.

He opens his jaw wider, tonguing your entrance wildly and nuzzling his strong nose against your clit in broad strokes, randomly flicking back and forth quickly making you squeal in pleasure as you grind against his mouth, fully out of control of your movements as if you were a puppet on a string.

“H-Hooooo-i’m cumming- oh- don’t you dare fucking stop Carmen” you growled, grabbing his curls and pullinghim further into your core. “I’m cumming- i’mcumming-holy-holyfuck-imfuuuckiing-AAAH!” your thighs and hips shake and quiver, stars of ethereal white filling your vision.

“Mmhmmm” he grumbled, coming up and sucking your nipple with his slick lips, his chin and nose soaked with your arousal, so much so his chin dripped onto your ribs. 

“H-Oh-yes Bear” you whined out, head tilting to meet his gaze. “I need you- I-I need you inside- like- fuck- when you- you have my knees around your hips and y-you fuckin’- just drill me Carmy- I need that- need you deep” You reverberated wantingly, wrapping your thighs around his waist taughtly, making it easier for him to take you exactly how you wanted.

“Jesus Christ- I can’t fuckin’ stand y’baby. Y’re like a fuckin’ drug- it’s like I fuckin’ function unless I’ve had a hit” he nibbed your collarbone, quickly removing his jeans and boxers, aligning himself with your entrance.

You gave him a mischievous smile, inching your hips forward. “C’mon- I don’t give a fuck ‘bout cooking right now- fuck me absolutely dumb- then take me to Sam’s f’r chocolate chip pancakes- sure that waitress will be over the moon bout my ring” you mused, capturing our lips together, as he scoops up your shoulders and holds you chest to chest, your third of many orgasms that night building throughout every muscle.

It was going to be a long night….

[morning-star-joy]

the darkest little paradise (Joel x F!Reader)

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, Post-Outbreak

Request: “don’t blame me, love made me crazy if it doesn’t you ain’t doing it right” and “oh lord save me my drug is my baby, I’ll be using for the rest of my life”

Warnings: 18+ MDNI Explicit Smut (unprotected p in v sex, creampie, oral m receiving, masturbation m and f) and Dark Themes including Canon-Typical Violence (Murder, Torture, Blood) related to Hunters, Obsession/Obsessive Love that's quite borderline unhealthy, Possessiveness, Jealousy, Dark!Joel? (but he's still a bit sweet because I can't help it), Unhinged!Reader (she's lowkey crazy ngl), Implied Age Gap

Wordcount: 2121

A/N: Another one for the Taylor Swift inspired oneshot collection! This is definitely different from anything I've written before but it was fun to dive into a darker relationship with Joel. Ty to anon who kindly requested Don't Blame Me.

Joel x Reader Taylor-inspired masterlist

It may just be possible that, after months of aching and pining and wanting, you had a bit of an obsession with Joel Miller.

Having a lover was not a foreign concept to you. In fact, you’ve had many of them; one after another, stringing them along until you became bored, and you’d leave them begging for more as you moved on to the next.

You had a taste for older men in particular, enjoying how you could wrap a world-weary soul around your finger and make them beg. 

So when you first saw Joel upon his permanent arrival to Jackson—the fine lines on a weathered face, streaks of gray in those dark curls, the heavy set of burdens from a long life on his tired shoulders—you knew you had to have a taste of him.

It may also be possible that, after months of watching you wide-eyed and flushed as you tried to sneak glances at him from across the room, Joel Miller may be a little obsessed with you too.

From the very first moment you greeted him with a deceivingly shy smile that hid a tantalizing coyness, he had felt a desire to have you. His eyes had narrowed in on your soft mouth, wondering all the sounds he could draw from it, and that fleeting desire slowly kindled into a burning need as time went on.

Days and months were spent without you in his arms or, more importantly, in his bed. Always dancing out of his reach if he just barely got close enough, shooting him that God damned knowing smile—like you knew exactly what he was thinking, knew exactly what he wanted to do to you—whenever he’d see you around town.

Sometimes you’d even be so bold as to send him a wink as you drank with another man late at night in one of the few bars, allowing some other fucking man to eventually take you home instead of letting Joel treat you right.

He would fuck you until you were beyond satisfied if you just let him. Fuck you hard and fast, or slow and sweet if that was how you preferred it (but he knew from the way you bit your lip as you snuck glances over his body that it wasn’t). 

Fuck you until your throat was hoarse from screaming his name, until you couldn’t walk for days afterwards. Until he ruined you for anybody else, making it impossible for you to take any dick other than his, or think of anybody else when you touched yourself at night without him.

Joel knew it. 

You knew it.

But you didn’t let him, even with that look of unabashed lust in your knowing eyes every time you saw him.

God, you were driving him fucking crazy.

Joel quickly lost track of how many times he had to take matters into his own hands, fucking up into his hand with your face held clearly in his mind, imagining how truly soft those lips would feel wrapped around his cock until he was cumming hard with your name groaned on a hot breath against his pillow.

There was no way for him to know how you already spent your nights in your own bed in a similar fashion, with your hand between your legs to bring yourself to release again and again while picturing how the scratch of that salt and pepper facial hair would feel on the inside of your thighs while he made you cum with his mouth instead of you having to use your own fingers.

Then one day, when Joel showed up unannounced on your back doorstep long after the sun had set—hair a mess and pupils blown wide with desire similar to yours that you had just been trying to satisfy that night with your hand down your panties, alone in bed once again—the tension finally snapped.

“Just one time,” Joel had whispered huskily against your lips after you had stumbled lip-locked to your couch, his hands finding your waist to tug you into his lap. Your bodies pressed together as you moaned into his mouth, letting him explore yours with his tongue, tasting you with his own quiet groan. “Just once.”

“Mhm,” you had murmured deliriously, head tilting back as his lips moved down your neck, teeth scraping and tongue caressing every sensitive spot he could find while you began to grind into him. “Once. Just once.”

You should’ve known better.

Once would never have been enough, not after you had finally gotten a taste of Joel Miller. 

Not after watching the color of his eyes deepen with a never-ending desire that you knew wouldn’t be quenched with just one time.

Not after he finally fucked you for the first time, both of you losing yourselves in the heady dance of giving and receiving pleasure, and he really did ruin you completely, dissolving you into a trembling, whimpering mess that knew no name other than his own.

Not after he had felt you in his arms, holding you tightly against him as he bucked up into you, again and again until you came apart in his strong embrace, and he followed right after you, gasping your name against your ear as he filled you up with his cum. 

It was a blissful descent into madness that you both fell down into together.

Because as it turned out, this mutual obsession didn’t stop as far as needing each other’s bodies.

The more you ended up in Joel’s bed, the more you wanted him. 

You saw that same old, world-weary soul that you had held in your hands countless times from men you couldn’t remember, but for some godforsaken reason, you wanted to treasure Joel’s.

Every time he came with your name on his lips, over and over, and he sank onto the mattress with you afterwards, you wanted to pull him close. You wanted to run your hands through his hair, murmur sweet nothings into his ear as you burrowed yourself into him until you couldn’t tell where he ended and you began.

And when you went out for a night of casual drinks that turned into harmless, habitual flirting with a man you would never truly give the time of day, only for Joel to punch that man square in the jaw—and the nose, and the eye, and the jaw again—when they dared to touch you, you knew that he felt the same.

There was probably something deeply wrong with you, something sick and twisted as you found yourself more attracted to Joel than ever before when you saw his knuckles bloody for you.

That night, after tending to those knuckles with a bandage and a soft kiss pressed to each one, followed by your lips wrapping around his cock to suck him off until he was coming down the back of your throat as he murmured prayers to nobody other than you, you were suddenly blessed with the divinely sinful knowledge that you would not only die for this man, but fucking kill for him.

You had heard the whispers of him since he arrived in town—you knew Joel Miller was a dangerous man. That he lacked mercy, or any real ounce of kindness in his body.

But when you held him at night, stroking his skin with your face pressed against his back as you heard him murmur mindlessly from the horrors that still haunted his mind, you knew that you had been graced with the opportunity to protect this man who had spent his entire life protecting others.

Unfortunately for Joel, he had not heard the whispered rumors that circulated around you. He didn’t know of your long, sordid history with a group of Hunters, didn’t know how you tortured and killed your way through the apocalypse until you eventually hung up your array of knives and guns when you arrived in Jackson—except for when they could be used for the settlement’s benefit, of course.

He didn’t know how your peace of mind balanced on a razor thin line, your sanity a dubious matter that only became more obscure, more dangerous once you had him in your arms.

But upon his realization of your duality—the sweet smile and loving words whispered to him in the dead of night, contrasted to the similar serene smile you had given when you stuck a knife in a Raider’s throat and let them bleed to death at your feet—Joel found himself completely, utterly, hopelessly in love with you.

“Mine,” Joel growled into your ear that night, your wrists clasped in his large hand as he bent you over the side of your bed and fucked into you from behind. 

He stared at your smaller hands held helplessly in his, the ones he had seen mercilessly delivering death left and right earlier that day, and groaned as he listened to the sounds of your moans, so loud you had to be keeping up the whole street.

“That’s right, love, tell them my name,” Joel grunted as he bucked into you, making you beg for more, more, always more of him while he continued to order you, “Tell them who makes you cum. Tell them who you belong to.”

“Joel!” you gasped, cheek pressed against the blanket as your legs began to tremble, his other hand rubbing your clit at a fast, steady pace until you were coming apart completely, gloriously, all because of him.

After he would cum inside of you, he’d leave you to settle on the bed as he retrieved a warm washcloth to clean you up diligently before pulling you onto his chest with soft murmurs of “was that too much?” and whispered promises of “love you, always love you,” an oath that you would return with the sweet press of your lips to his, over and over.

Even then, Joel hadn’t realized how truly far gone over the edge he was for you until you were taken from him.

A run-in with some hunters on a patrol, resulting in you being taken captive, had set Joel off in a way nobody could have expected, even him. He was out of Jackson’s gates before hearing a complete appraisal of the situation, armed with his rifle and revolver even though he needed nothing more than his bare hands to do what needed to be done.

His vision was so red he couldn’t even see the faces of each victim that fell to one of his bullets or his arm around their neck. The entire time he fought to get to you, the only thing he could think, the only thing he could hear through the blood rushing through his head was your name, over and over.

With the blood spilled on the ground, staining his clothes and dripping down his fingers, soaking his palms and dripping from his elbows, all he could think of was you, you, you.

And then he had you again, pulled into his arms with a breath of relief that, even though bloody and broken, you were still here, still with him.

For days after, sex was the last thing on both of your minds. The only thing Joel cared about was your recovery, treating and redressing your wounds around the clock, making sure you had anything that you needed, when all you ever really needed anymore was him.

When enough time had passed that you had begun to wake up with an ache throbbing between your legs to have him deep inside of you, Joel finally satisfied you, slipping his cock in and rocking into you with your legs thrown over his shoulders, moaning into your mouth as you pleaded him for more, more, more.

Only when you quite literally couldn’t take any more, sweat pouring down your body as it trembled from overstimulation, with Joel’s cum dripping from your pussy and down your legs, did you both collapse back onto the bed with heavy pants.

You rolled over onto your stomach, dancing your fingers down every wrinkle etched across his face, humming in content as you knew you would do whatever it took to keep him as in love with you as he was now.

Because loving Joel Miller was not only a fucking drug that you were addicted to, but the last thread of your sanity that barely kept you together.

And you were his last saving grace, the fragile peace he had built his life around, the poison he would drink just to give himself some sense of relief, some sense of purpose in the unwavering devotion of your love.

Now that you had this dark paradise, you would seal your own terrible fates forever not to let it go.

[glutengoblin]

imgoingtogetyouback (Sebastian Sallow X Reader)

A/N: I've been bad and haven't been posting much - BUT I swear I have a lot things coming, I just need to work through writer's block a bit more. Anyway, here is something I wrote tonight, since I feel like it's been so long since I've posted anything. As always, any feedback is appreciating (Especially since this is my first smut that I've written)

Summary: Your and Sebastian's on and off again relationship has been driving you crazy- So, you decide to do something about it. (inspired by imgoingtogetyouback by miss TS)

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ only. Minors DNI

Disclaimer: All characters are aged up to 18 in this piece. Also, I am not Taylor Swift and therefore do not own the rights to imgoingtogetyouback

-

You couldn’t believe that you found yourself here again.

You were drunk at the Three Broom Sticks, nearly falling off your stool as you eyed Sebastian Sallow across the room. Though the place was packed, you managed to keep your gaze steady on him. He cast a sly smirk as he studied the brunette Gryffindor student in front of him. While you had to admit that she was beautiful, it didn’t make the situation any less vexatious.

Neither Poppy nor Natty seemed to notice your intense focus on him, as the conversation at the table continued, and, most importantly, the drinking. Your body began to grow warm with anger as Sebastian leaned in to brush a strand of hair away from the Gryffindor’s face. You didn’t know which part was more frustrating - The fact that he was already touching another girl, or the fact that you loved it when he did that it to you.

After a couple more shots of fire whiskey, the world began to blur to the point where you felt like it was a good decision to confront Sebastian. After all, you had only broken up (for the third time) 2 weeks ago. How did he already think it was okay to go snogging yet another girl? You made a move to stand up, nearly falling off your stool before Poppy caught your arm.

“Woah there… What’s up Y/N?” When you didn’t answer, Poppy’s gaze followed your’s until her eyes pooled with worry. “Nuh-uh, you are not going there. Sit your butt back down.” You shook your head, pulling your arm free of Poppy’s grip.

“No Poppy, I have to- I mean, he’s touching another girl. Already.” Poppy stared at you, clearly concerned about your drunken state as she rubbed her temple.

“I’m not going to be able to stop you, am I?” You shot her a slightly lopsided grin, taking a few more steps forward.

“You know me so well!”

You began to make your way across the room, trying to limit the amount you bumped into the various patrons crowding the tables. Through the low light of the establishment, you could see Sebastian full-on kissing the girl at this point- That wouldn’t stand on your watch.

Marching over to his table, you slammed your hands down and tried to look as threatening as possible. Thankfully, the faint ancient magic glow that cast a blue tint around you seemed to do the trick, as the Gryffindor student looked up at you nervously.

“Can… Can I help you?” She asked softly, clearly trying to discern how to best proceed with caution. Sebastian, on the other hand, looked furious. But before he could voice his frustration, you shot the girl a menacing glare and began to draw your wand.

“Well, if you knew what was best for you, you probably would stop snogging another girl’s boyfriend. Specifically, a girl who could hex you into oblivion if she really wanted to.” At that moment, the Gryffindor clearly no longer valued bravery as much as she thought, as she choose to apologize profusely and quickly leave the table.

Sebastian turned to stare at you, wide-mouthed and red in the face, until he was finally able to speak again. “What the FUCK was that Y/N- You broke up with me!”

You simply shrugged, and gripped his arm, dragging him out towards the front doors. “What if I told you I changed my mind?” Sebastian could hardly get any retort out, sputtering words as you dragged him out into the lamp-lit, rainy street.

Sebastian sputtered some more, before finally yanking free of your grip. “And what exactly makes you think you can just decide that Y/N. For fuck’s sake, didn’t I see you snogging Amit just the other week? I thought you had moved on already, and here you come ruining my chances. I had a good thing going there you know. Plus, you broke up with me, remember?” The Slytherin crossed his arms over his chest, clearly fuming at your actions. Honestly, you were kind of glad you still had this effect on him. After all, Sebastian was the most attractive when he was angry.

You let out a soft chuckle, as you drunkenly took a couple more steps towards him, and placed your hand on his cheek. He flushed at the contact, his resolve clearly flattering a bit. “I mean, I did, but I’ve decided to put your last transgression aside, just for tonight… Assuming you’re interested?” You cocked an eyebrow, trying to give him the most seductive smile you could when this wasted. Sebastian studied your face for only a few moments, before making the decision you always knew he would.

As he leaned in to capture your lips with his own, you pulled him closer to you with fistfuls of his shirt, and apparated you to your room of requirement. You both stumbled a bit at the sudden travel, but Sebastian recovered quickly. Pressing you backward with increasingly more desperate kisses, he pressed you into a wall, and gripped your thighs to hoist you up higher.

You your legs wrapped around his waist, you could already feel his erection growing- You loved having this effect on him, almost as much as you loved being railed by him. You pressed your core against him, rubbing until you gained a satisfied groan from his lips.

Sebastian moved his lips away from yours and began to greedily press kisses against your neck, as his hands traveled under your sweater, gracing your skin with his hot touch. Between kisses, he choked out praises, trying his best to earn a reaction. “Fuck, Y/N- I didn’t know how much I missed your body.” He let out another throaty groan and you pressed yourself against his still-clothed erection, and let out a small sigh of your own.

“If you missed my body that much, you sure are not doing a great job of taking my clothes off.” Sebastian let out a chuckle against your neck, before taking the invitation and beginning to practically rip your clothes off of you, throwing your sweater and skirt to the floor, with your tights following close after. You began to work on his buttons and belt, quickly ridding him of his clothes until only his undergarments remained on, his shirt long discarded and his pants pooled around his legs.

Finally letting you down from your pinned position to fully remove his pants, Sebastian pointed to the chaise lounge. “You, on there, now. Strip while you’re at it.”

To his surprise, you were more obedient than usual, as you gave him a mischievous smirk over your shoulder and began to walk towards the lounge, leaving a trail of undergarments as you went. Eventually, you laid down fully bare, and eyed Sebastian’s form as he made his way over. He too had chosen to discard all of his clothing, and now held his length in his hand, rubbing slowly as he greedily eyed your body.

“All submissive and spread out for me- You know, I think I may like you better like this.” He let around a soft chuckle as he knelt in front of you, grabbing the backs of your knees to yank you closer.

The next thing you knew, his mouth had collided with your core, his tongue traveling over your folds. You let out a moan, your head falling back against the lounge as your hands found purchase in his hair, pulling that delicious mouth of his even closer.

Sebastian obliged willing, his tongue probing your entrance before he moved to suck gently on your clit. You looked down to meet his lustful eyes, as he brought his hand up to your opening. While continuing the suction on your clit, he brought his fingers to your folds, stroking a few times to wet them before dipping them in, gaining an elicit reaction from you.

You groaned his name, as your grip on his hair only tightened. You could feel him chuckle against you, as you let out a few lewd moans. “There, there darling.” Sebastian pistoned his fingers in and out of you harder, moving up your body to stare down at your face. “Don’t worry, I won’t let you come until my cock is inside you. You deserve at least that much for putting me through the wringer these past few weeks.”

You could barely contain your excitement as he eventually withdrew his fingers from you, and used your slick to wet the tip of his cock. He then leaned over your body, positioning himself at your entrance. “Have you been a good girl for me, stayed as tight as I like it?”

You let out a stuttered yes, as your eyes traveled down his form and to his cock, which looked as large as ever. Gods, you loved having sex when Sebastian was mad at you.

Sebastian let out a chuckle, before pressing a needy kiss against your lips. “Good.”

Without warning, you felt him penetrating you. Before you could even adjust, he began to thrust in and out, letting out lewd noises of his own. “Fuck Y/N- You don’t know how much I missed this.” He filled you completely before pulling back out again, delightfully stretching your walls with each thrust.

“Gods, Sebastian- I-I missed you too.” You begged for it harder, wrapping your hands around his back and digging your nails in, drawing him in even closer.

Sebastian’s thrusts began to falter a bit, as he left a mark on your neck, slightly regretting the ruthless pace he had chosen to set. His hands moved down to your hips, one holding you down tightly. The other continued onto your core, as his fingers found purchase against your clit and began to rub those circles you loved, ever so dearly.

You groaned uncontrollably, begging for more, as your orgasm drew ever nearer. Sebastian was clearly in the same boat, as his hips began to falter even more. Still, he tried his best to continue, willing your orgasm to come before his. “Tell me Y/N, can Amit make you feel this good?” He looked up to study your expression, trying his best to hide his worry that you may in fact say yes.

“O-Of course not- fuck… No one can make me feel like you do Sebastian.” That gained a grin from the freckled boy, who rubbed with more pressure as if to reward the answer he so desperately needed to hear.

“Good, then cum for me, babe.” It was only a few moments before you obliged him, your body winding tightly before releasing into wonderful waves of pleasure, that took over your form and made you go limp against the lounge.

Sebastian’s attack on your body only continued, until he eventually filled you with hot trails of his seed, his hips gradually slowing down as he lingered in the warm heat of your connection.

Eventually, once you came to a bit more, you found Sebastian lying beside you, his arms wrapped around your frame as he rubbed your back, pressing gentle kissing against your forehead. You eventually looked up, giving him a shy smile, before reaching up to press a soft kiss against his lips.

Sebastian smiled down at you as well, studying your features with quiet intrigue. “Would it be too forward to ask if this means that we’re back together?”

You let out a small chuckle, pressing your lips gently against his cheek. “I suppose it does… Assuming you can provide dick like that every night.”

Sebastian laughed, brushing a strand of hair from your face behind your ear, cementing the fact that you were once again his. “I suppose I could try… Tough standard to live up to.”

“Oh don’t worry… I’m sure you will. Besides, I know I’ll always be able to find ways to make you mad. You’re kind of an easy target.”

[amethystpath-writes]

Double-Date: Spiderman Edition (Part 0- Prequel)

NOT A PR0MPT

******

Hero was pacing. Of course she was- she always was. “You’re sure he won’t be there?” Her makeup was already on, smooth foundation and...whatever the sparkly stuff was on her cheeks and nose was (VSidekick prided himself for even knowing the first one). Hero wore a floor-length, sparkly, navy blue dress, one that accentuated all the parts both she and VSidekick loved. All that was left to do was to walk out of the bathroom and through the front door.

“Yes, I’m sure,” VSidekick said. He met Hero’s eyes in the mirror. Was he telling the truth? Not entirely, but when did he ever do that? He was Villain’s sidekick; there had to be at least a little villainy in him. And anyway, it was good for Hero. She was too uptight, too strict about things.

“You checked his schedule?” Hero crossed her arms and lifted a brow.

“Well, no, but why would Villain be going to a five-star restaurant when he has a chef at home?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he found out about us and he’ll show up to destroy-”

“He’s a casual person, just like you- maybe even more so than you. He doesn’t enjoy fancy places like what we’re going to, and like I said, he has a chef.” As if that were casual, VSidekick realized. Still, Villain stayed at home when he wasn’t parading around, destroying things.

“Living casually? You say that as if the right side of your body isn’t half-numb from the fireworks he set off inside the mall. He’s irresponsible, not casual.”

There it was. “He had better intentions than to just blow everything up. No one was supposed to get hurt- it was just supposed to draw attention.” Maybe there were a couple times Villain did things for fun- but it didn’t happen often! VSidekick sighed. “Look, I know he won’t be there, so there’s no worries. And, he has no reason to destroy the restaurant- hasn’t talked about it anyway, so we’re safe.”

Hero sighed.

“We’re all prepared and you look beautiful. Let’s just go, okay?”

***

“How many times do I have to tell you that Golden Rod’s is Hero’s favourite restaurant?” HSidekick asked as Villain stepped out the front door.

“And how many times do I have to tell you that I already did the calculations to prove she wouldn’t be there?”

As reluctant as HSidekick felt, she still sat in the passenger seat when Villain opened the door for her. When he sat in the driver’s seat, she asked, “How many times do I have to remind you that there’s a margin of error?”

Just because Villain found a small percentage of running into Hero at the restaurant didn’t meant that they wouldn’t run into her at all. There was still a chance that they could. And as HSidekick pointed out, there was a margin of error. Meaning, some of the calculations, the data...whatever...some of it was off, which made the likelihood of running into her even greater.

Villain sighed, putting the key in ignition. “Think about it yourself. I know there’s a possibility she’ll be there, but it’s so slim that it’s almost nonexistent. It’s a long drive and she has better things to do,” he explained. “Plus, she only ever goes out to eat with you.”

That was a good point. Who else would Hero have to eat out with besides her very own sidekick? No one. She didn’t have any romantic partners. So, she wouldn’t be out- especially not out at a restaurant.

“It’s not that I don’t want to go- I do.”

“It’s your favourite restaurant, too,” Villain said. “Indulge in it.” He started the car and began reversing out of the driveway.

“Yeah. I just...what if Hero is there, for whatever crazy reason, and she sees us, and then-”

“And then what? The worst that happens is she drops you, and then you have me. And VSidekick. He wouldn’t be opposed to having an extra pair of hands around the manor. You can do the dusting.” He looked over at HSidekick with a joking smirk. “We’re going to have a nice dinner, okay?”

HSidekick nodded. Hero wouldn’t be there; if she told herself that enough, it would become true.

******

Continue here.

Master taglist: @faeruine 

To be added to the taglist, comment here!

[touyasdoll]

Day 4: Humiliation

Pairing: brat tamer!Megumi Fushiguro x f!reader

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: non-consensual exhibitionism, voyeurism, humiliation, degradation, possessiveness, impact play, dacryphilia, teasing, sir kink, marking, pussy job, teensy bit of a praise kink, ahh I hope I didn't miss any, lemme know if I did

Notes: Starts off pretty strong, so everything is below the cut. Please mind the warnings. Posting this much later in the day than I wanted to, but here ya go! 💜

“You’re being such a good little bitch for me all of a sudden,” Megumi’s hand collides with your ass, leaving a bright red handprint in its wake. You hiss, unaccustomed to being struck so harshly without him already inside of you. “Where’s that big, bad attitude you had all day, baby?”

The joints of your elbows are shaking violently, threatening to give out from under you at any moment, but the threat of your sadistic lover drawing out this punishment offers you the incentive to remain upright in the position he’s placed you in.

“Have I finally tamed the brat in you?” His hands grip your hips tight, slender fingers sinking into your skin where bruises have already appeared, purple reminders in the shape of his fingertips. “Took long enough,” you can hear the condescending smirk in his voice as he strikes you again, harder this time.

“Ah!” A yelp is forced from your lips, but you button them shut, whimpering quietly as you take your bottom lip between your teeth.

He rubs the angry tip of his cock against your clit, teasing your aching hole with it while he leans back and watches. The fiendish grin on his face only grows the more you whine and clench for him. He loves to see you this desperate, this depraved.

He draws his hips back, pressing his middle finger to your slit, dragging the digit up and down between your folds, but never slipping it inside of you. It’s driving you crazy and he knows it. He adores it. He gets off on it.

“Sir, please,” you dare to beg, praying that he might take mercy on you. End your suffering and finally reward you by plunging his fat cock inside your greedy hole.

You were quivering for him in every way possible. Bottom lip shaking, elbows wobbling, pussy fluttering around nothing at all. He had to relent soon, otherwise you might just implode.

It had already been half an hour of torturous teasing, punctuated by a swift spank whenever you least expected it. He’d slip his cock between your thighs, letting your folds hug his girth to coat him in your juices, only to pull all sense of stimulation away from you to languidly stroke his own length while he slapped the heavy head of his cock against your ass, accompanied by a strike of his hand or a lash of the tongue.

The taunting was just as relentless as the teasing, but it only served to make you even more desperate. You couldn’t hide it from him, couldn’t pretend that you didn’t love it when he hunched over you, snarling in your ear about how he would take you when he was good and ready to. How he owned your pussy. How only he got to decide when and how you got fucked. How he promised to drink up your pretty, pathetic tears when he was through teaching his needy fucking brat a lesson by pounding your pussy until you begged him to stop.

You couldn’t hide it because every sinful sentence had you dripping. He could feel it when his cock would glide between your legs, catching on your clit now and then just to torment you a little further. He was always so close, rutting against you, nearly claiming you over and over again, relishing in the way you keened when you thought he was really gonna do it this time, when he lined up and almost pushed inside. Relishing even more when you wailed in disappointment, earning yourself another crack to your glowing backside.

“Oh, you’re still minding your manners? I’m so proud. What a good girl,” He coos behind your ear as he hunches over you, finally slipping his middle digit inside of you. “You’ve been behaving so well for me, despite everything I’ve put you through.”

You hang your head, fresh tears falling from your eyes at the first sign of meaningful stimulation. A moan tumbles from you, your walls instinctively clenching around his finger as he pumps it in and out. His hot breath tickles your neck before his lips place a soft kiss to your nape, his finger curling inside you, searching for that spongy spot you’re so anxious for him to find.

“Either you’ve truly learned your lesson,” he withdraws his finger from your core to reach around and grasp your jaw in the span of his hand, angling it towards the newly mounted camera in the corner of the bedroom. “Or have you figured out that we have an audience this time, darling?”

Your eyes blow wide at the revelation. You can feel his lips curl up in a devious smirk against the back of your head before he places another kiss behind your ear. You couldn’t tell if he was kidding. This could just be a ploy, something else to prod you with before he actually drops the punishment, but you’re assured that it’s more than that by the next words that he whispers in your ear.

“You remember Gojou-sensei, don’t you, babygirl? Why don’t you say hi?” He leans back, kneeling behind you as he places a hand to the small of your back, once again teasing your entrance as you reel from the new information. “He can hear you, you know. He’s heard everything.”

With that, he finally claims you, mercilessly making his presence known as you arch your back, crying out from the sting of the stretch and the delicious feeling of finally, finally being full. The mention of an audience is soon forgotten in your hunger for more. More of this, more of him.

“C’mon, baby,” Megumi’s gentle touch returns to your sides, his lips feathering kisses on your shoulder that don’t live up to the brutality that you had come to expect would be unleashed upon you, leaving you to chase it for yourself. “Don’t be shy, say hello.”

You slammed yourself back onto his length, whimpering as you tried and tried to gather the momentum that you were seeking. That harsh, animalistic rhythm that only he could set; that he regularly used to ruin you for anyone else.

“Y-yes, sir,” you sputter, floundering and giving up on your selfish campaign to fall into the slow, forgiving rhythm he was setting. “H-hi, Gojou-sensei,” you eek out, words barely rising above a whisper.

“Always knew you were a good student,” a smug voice carries through the speaker attached to the device, it undoubtedly belongs to your former teacher and his breathing sounds labored. “But I never realized you were such a good teacher. You’ve trained her well.”

Kinktober Masterlist

[shirakumos-sandwich-shop]

🍂Zhongli x fem reader 🍂

🍂Single Dad, modern au. 🍂

Feat. Xiao as a kid cause why not.

(Idk why I wrote this, let me just die of embarrassment while I post it anyway.)

“Did you have a good day at school Xiao?” You asked the tiny four year old.

“No.” He said bluntly.

“Why not? Did something happen?” You crouched down to his level.

“Ajax was mean to me again.” The little one whimpered. “He said my hair was stupid.”

You made a mental note to tell the child’s father once he got home.

“That’s not nice of him.” You tousled the boy’s colorful locks. “Don’t listen to him, your hair is perfect.”

“You think so?” He gave you big round golden puppy eyes that made your heart melt.

“Yes of course I do!” He smiled at your words. His little arms held out asking for you to pick him up. You scooped him into your arms and carried him off to the car. He was tiny but still heavy.

“Y/n?” He questioned.

“Yes Xiao?” You smiled.

“Why doesn’t daddy pick me up from school?” He said sadly.

“Your daddy has to work.”

“Oh…” the little one sighed. “Why does daddy work so much?”

“He has a very important job.” You answered.

You got to the car and buckled him into the car seat.

“Ajax said my dad works for dead people! Is that true?”

“What?” It took you a second to realize he meant the funeral parlor. “No sweetie, he doesn’t work for dead people.” You didn’t want to traumatize him with the details at such a young age.

You got into the driver's seat and drove out of the school parking lot. He was quiet all the way home and just stared out the window. After a short drive you pulled into the driveway of the large house. You let Xiao out of his car seat and he held his arms out to you to be held. He certainly was a clingy child. You carried him through the quiet house to the living room and set him down.

“I’m gonna make you a snack, is there anything you want?” You asked him.

“Almond tofu!” He exclaimed.

“You can’t have that for every meal, Xiao.” You chided.

“Oh..” he thought hard. “Apples then… but can I have just a bite of almond tofu?” He persisted.

“Would you rather have some now or save it till dessert? Cause I know you’ll ask for it again after dinner.”

“Fine… I’ll wait.” He sighed.

You patted his head and went to fix him a plate of sliced apples, you added some crackers and juice for good measure and brought it to him. He nibbled on the snacks happily and then decided it was time to color.

Time went on like this till nightfall. Xiao drew a dragon that he wanted to give to his dad. He was really just the cutest. You checked the clock, Xiao’s father should be back soon. It was getting late and Xiao was getting peckish again so you decided to get dinner ready for them so they could eat when he came back from work. You went to the kitchen and started preparing a good meal of chicken, rice, and vegetables.

“What about almond tofu?” The persistent child asked.

“I’ll do that next.” You calmed him. You went ahead and got started on the dessert so it would be ready later. Cooking wasn’t really required in your job description but you did it once in a while. The boy’s father always seemed to be so tired when he got back.

You heard the door open and Xiao scrambled to run to the door.

“Daddy!” You heard his exclaim from the other room. “Look what y/n helped me draw today!”

“That’s amazing!” You heard him reply. “Let’s go put it on the fridge!”

Zhongli entered the kitchen with his son dragging him by the hand. He looked very tired but tried to be energetic for his excited child.

“Hello, y/n.” Zhongli said softly.

“Hello, I went ahead and made dinner for you.”

“Oh you didn’t have to..”

“It’s okay, I wanted to. There is enough for leftovers. Let me just finish Xiao’s favorite and I’ll be on my way.”

“Would you just like to stay for dinner?” He asked.

“Oh no I couldn’t impose.” You blushed nervously.

“You're not imposing, you made the dinner after all.” He smiled at you awkwardly. “We’d love to have you stay, right Xiao?”

The little one jumped up and down and ran to hug your leg.

“Please stay, y/n.” He gave you the irresistible puppy eyes again.

“Of course, I’ll stay. I can’t say no to you.” You ruffled his colorful hair.

Zhongli smiled to himself while he witnessed the interaction. No one had been able to get Xiao to open up like you had. He used to be such a quiet child until you came along. Maybe it was just his imagination but he felt that you were having a similar effect on him as well.

You felt a bit awkward at dinner, Zhongli had never invited you to stay before. Your crush on him was driving you crazy, thinking of all the reasons he could have asked you to stay. You were just Xiao’s nanny so you didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. Throughout dinner Zhongli grew more comfortable as the evening continued. It felt natural having the three of you there together. He wondered as he always did when he saw you, if you might be the answer he was looking for. Xiao had always been begging him for a mother. Zhongli wanted to make him happy, he tried to go on dates but no one seemed to fit. No one except you. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t considered asking you out, but every time he considered saying something it didn’t seem like the right time.

“Y/n! Come read bedtime story!” Xiao was already dragging you off by the hand to his room. Zhongli cleaned up the dishes and then followed you to the boy’s room. It would be a difficult task getting you out of Xiao’s clutches so you could go home and get some rest. He was also feeling the fatigue of the day and felt like he could fall asleep any second. He found the pair in Xiao’s room looking at books. The little boy already had a stack of all his favorites that he wanted to read with you. The little one looked up happily at his father when he entered the room.

“Xiao, I’m sure y/n needs to get home and rest. Why don’t you save the books for another time?” Zhongli told the boy.

Xiao’s eyes widened and nearly teared up. He looked at you for confirmation.

“Y/n? You don’t have to leave yet do you?” The little one whimpered. He gave you the adorable puppy eyes once again.

“I can read one book with you.” you looked up at Zhongli. “Is that okay? I’d hate to disappoint him, he’s so excited.” Zhongli smiled at you and wondered how he could possibly deserve someone like you.

“As long as your not too tired.” He agreed.

Xiao looked at his bed skeptically. It was not big enough for all three of you. He was accustomed to his father laying on his bed with him while being read to. With you there now there was simply not enough room. He came to a quick conclusion on how to fix the problem and grabbed onto both your hand and Zhongli’s and led you off to his father’s room. He climbed up on the big bed and waited expectantly. You blushed at the idea of even just sitting on his bed. Zhongli had similar thoughts and looked away awkwardly. Xiao had already opened the book and was sitting there expectantly. Neither of you wanted to disappoint him so you went and sat on either side of the child.

Xiao nestled into the crook of your arm and gave you the book to read. As you started reading you felt yourself get more comfortable and sleepy. You were so sleepy you became unaware of Zhongli’s arm behind your shoulders or the adoring glances he gave you.

Zhongli was drifting off as well, it had been a long day for him. And now with you leaning against him and quieting his mind with the story you were reading he felt at peace. Your head fell onto his shoulder and he sleepily pulled you closer. The scent of your hair was the last thing he remembered before drifting off to sleep. Xiao stood up on his tiny legs and patted your head and then Zhongli’s.

“Lumine said that only mommies and daddies sleep in the same bed..” his little brain tried to work out what this meant. He climbed off the bed and jumped on his own bed and fell asleep almost immediately.

Zhongli woke to find you cuddled against his chest with his arms around you. He gently tucked your now messy hair out of your face and your eyes fluttered open. You gasped when you saw who you were snuggled against and jerked back from his touch.

“I’m sorry.” You squeaked. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“Y/n.”

“I’m sorry, I should go.” You scrambled out of bed and made for the door.

“Y/n wait!” He jumped up and hugged you from behind. You felt like your heart was going to burst out of your chest. “Y/n, I really like you.”

You twisted around in his arms to look at him.

“I like you too Zhongli.”

He smiled softly at your words and looked at your lips. You melted into his arms as he leaned down to kiss you. It was short, sweet, and perfect. He pulled away and gave you an unusually mischievous look. You squealed as he scooped you up and carried you back to the bed. He peppered you with kisses and held you close. You snuggled against him as he pulled the bed covers up over you.

“It’s Saturday, I don’t have work. Want to stay here for a while?”

You nodded at his request and pressed a kiss to his lips. At this moment Xiao came in search of the two of you. He climbed up on the bed and you gasped in surprise. He bounced his way into your arms and giggled. The little boy snuggled between you and Zhongli.

“Does this mean you’re my mommy now?” He asked seriously. You blushed furiously but Zhongli just looked at you happily.

“I hope so.” He told his son.

You blushed even harder and hid yourself in his chest. And so the three of you cuddled in bed until Xiao announced he wanted breakfast.

[dulceateez]

𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡!𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳

𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘫𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘨 

it wasn’t anything extraordinary, nothing out of the ordinary from him. he’s a gentleman. always has been and always will be. he treats everyone with the same amount of respect and love, but this time was different. after a surprise practice fire drill, you rush along with your classmates into the bitter fall wind, hugging your arms close to your chest. your legs shivering and lips trembling. you mentally scold yourself for wearing such a thin outfit. but here comes your hero; with a big hoodie in his hand. you slip into the clothing and wallow in his cozy, floral, manly scent. you look up at him to thank him but his arm wraps around your shoulders and brought you closer to his body. your cheeks turned crimson and you melt into his warmth, forgetting about the harsh cold; “y/n-ah, how can you wear such an outfit when it’s so cold outside! you need to dress warmer now, keep my hoodie for when you walk home today.” 

𝘴𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘸𝘢 

you didn’t know him prior to this interaction; heard of him. yes, of course you’ve heard of him. everyone has a crush on this boy and you understand the appeal. still, you’ve never felt the butterflies in your stomach when he flashes a smile in the direction of you and your friends. at least not until that subtle touch you felt on the small of your back as he passed by. who knew the crowded hallway could feel so empty after experiencing the seonghwa effect. what made your heart race was when he turned to flash you a smirk so devilish that it sent you straight to heaven. did you just fall for the more unattainable guy in this school? yes. do you regret it? no. you felt your mind warp into one like his followers.’ perhaps you dressed yourself up more and paid extra attention to your actions after the encounter; something you’ll never admit to yourself or anyone else. you want to feel his effect once more and that’s exactly why you fell for him. 

𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘰 

he’s the sweet boy next door, an eager puppy that always awaits your arrival, stalking your movements with child-like admiration. he finds you absolutely beautiful, since the day he moved in, but you’re taking longer to come around. but tonight changes the way you view him. your day was stressful, tear inducing even, and you just want to lay in bed and snuggle your favorite stuffed animal. the puppy analyzes your movements from afar and springs into action when you stomp right into your room as opposed to going into the kitchen for a snack like always. you lay in a puddle of your own self-pity when you hear thuds against your windowpane, you pull back the curtains and look down to see the homey boy smiling up at you with a bag of your favorite chips in hand. he gives it a shake, as if he’s coaxing you, you open the window up for him to climb into and he wastes no time in engulfing you in a bear hug. you replace the golden retriever plushy with him. as the two of you lay, not saying a single word, your heart starts to beat fast against his stomach; “y/n? are you nervous? do i make you nervous! you make me so nervous but i love it.” 

𝘺𝘦𝘰𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘨 

how can someone not fall for such a sweet little human? his hair is fluffy like cotton candy, cheeks puffy like mochi, eyes shinning brighter than the hard chocolate coating on candies. while his voice is as deep as the ocean it seems, his kind words contrast his tone. you often dreamt about the feelings of his lips; are they soft like clouds or do they send you to them? there was never one moment that solidified your attraction to him. from the first time you saw him, you’ve only had eyes for him. however, when you saw him giggling softly with his group of loud friends. the stark contrast between their bold and loud behavior and his gentle nature makes your heart go crazy. you suddenly became jealous--wanting to be the reason behind his laughter and his smiles, wanting to be the reason why he’s so bright and cheery. perhaps one day you will be. 

𝘴𝘢𝘯 

dimples. his cute little dimples. a dimpled boy like him never goes unnoticed. that’s how you noticed him, his cute smile and even cuter dimples. he sat across from you in the library once, taking notes from his textbook and writing them down on notebook paper. you admired him from afar. he was doing the same thing, raking his eyes over your body and face. finally, you built up the courage to introduce yourself to him and your fixation on his grew into a crush just by the way his eyes looked up at you: charming and hopeful. he removed his backpack from the seat next to him and invited you to sit down with him, a welcoming smile the whole time. while the two you studied independently, he kept sliding silly drawings under your fingertips. that’s when you knew for certain that you fell for the dimpled boy. and you fell for him hard after he asked you, “wanna go out and get a coffee or something after?” 

𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪 

who knew being burnt by your newly bought cup of coffee could end so sweetly? you’ve long forgotten about the burning sensation when you locked eyes with the empathetic set of eyes that stared back at you. annoyed? yes. but  how can someone stay mad at an innocent face like his? you’ve seen him around the campus, always thought he was attractive, but a handsome face doesn’t leave and impression on you. however, him stripping out of his hoodie to give to you, leaving him in a very thin white t-shirt, made your heart swoon. he panicked upon seeing your skin turn into red. not knowing what else to do, he gently took your wrist and guided you into the nurses office where he stood by you every step of the way. even offered to take you to the hospital; but you two settled on him buying you a new cup of coffee...of course he joins you as well. 

𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 

the cockiness he has drives you crazy in the worst way possible. you hate his smirks and hate his abrupt laughter. what you don’t hate is how friendly and social he is--you’re envious of those traits. he treats everyone like he’s their buddy and makes sure everyone is included somehow. you’re more on the shy side and an easy target for bullies to pick on, that’s why you didn’t believe him when he spoke so kindly to you. but the moment that made you realize that your heart has fallen for him? when he scared off the bullies. you’ve never seen this side of him; snarling teeth, fist balled, veins on his neck prominent with anger. after seeing you on the brink of tears after having insults thrown your way, he can’t just sit around and enable this behavior by not saying anything. the friendly, but somewhat annoying, facade disappears. he shakes the guy by his collar, venom being spit on his face. once he scared the man out of his wits, he turns to you and approaches you softly, gently grabbing your hands; “has he been bothering you lately? i’ll make sure he never even looks in your direction.” 

𝘫𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘰

such a sultry voice with high notes that reach the gods surrounding the earth, how can someone just move on from this type of singing? it was an immediate attraction to the anonymous man behind the honey voice. you began to wonder what he may look like--setting your expectations higher than the notes he is able to sing. you never built up the courage to peek into the music room and steal a glance and you always chickened out on staying after to see who leaves the room. it wasn’t until the day of the school’s choir when you found out who the voice belonged to. the quiet kid steps up to the mic and begins singing; your ears perked up instantly. the voice so familiar and you knew from exactly where. he stared at you as he sang the sweet lyrics, never breaking eye contact despite his solo ending. you felt alone in the audience, like everyone has disappeared and now it’s just him serenading you, warmth is all you felt. 

◌ 𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ◌ @blaqpinksthetic​ @tinkerbellwoo​

[jimilter]

riptide (m) | k.sj. | (1/2)

one | two

pairing:  kim seokjin x reader

rating:  m (18+)

genre:  angst | smut | established relationship!au

summary:  It takes a foolishly trivial incident to unravel how astonishingly little you and Seokjin actually understand each other. It has you questioning your relationship, and him? Well, he’s questioning his whole life.

warnings:  swearing + implied alcohol consumption + realistic relationship problems + mentions of insecurities, jealousy, complicated mental dispositions + emotional distress + sexual situations (unprotected penetrative sex, dirty talking, a bit of manhandling, fingering) + mentions of masturbation + a ton of miscommunication (refer to the summary smh)

word count: 12.3 k

note:  it’s FINALLY done, y’all! came up to be a monster of 25k words, so i decided to split it into two. i’ll drop the other part next week. this took a lot more time, energy and re-writing than i’d thought it would. i began writing this in january - it’s been five excruciating months! 😩 i really hope y'all will like this one~ 🥺💜

💟 YOUTH – 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

— masterlist

— feedback is always appreciated!

riptide (n) – a dangerous area of strongly moving water in the sea, where two or more currents meet.

Lady, running down to the riptide - Taken away to the dark side - I wanna be your left hand man.

The turn of events has been so fucking hilariously impossible that Seokjin has literally been rendered speechless. Which doesn't happen often, mind you. What can he do, he is just extremely witty—he always has something to say about everything, usually and preferably with impeccable comic timing. Especially when it comes to you. 

This, though. This completely baffling scenario, right in front of him, has him gaping like a goldfish with no words to say.

"Final call, Jin. Gawk at me for five more seconds and I walk out of here," you threaten, an elegant arm poised at your waist and gorgeously plump lips pressed into a thin line. "Say something?"

And Seokjin still cannot formulate a single word, because what the actual fuck? How can you even think that he could ever— 

"Alright." You catwalk out of his bedroom, leaving him blinking into space.

He jumps the next second, leaping after you. "Honey! How would—what—I can never—why do I even have to say—will you wait? You’re being so ridiculous, right now, I hope you know that!"

If he wasn't in such a fix, Seokjin would physically cringe at his speech. It was better when he was just gaping.

“Honey! Stop being so overdramatic, you’ve known me and you’ve known Jimin! For years! Stop acting like you seriously don’t know what happened, here!”

You don't stop, though, gliding down the stairs and hopping over the haphazardly tossed items in the living room as you exit out of the house.

And then you're gone. You're really gone, over something so fucking ridiculous, that Seokjin still has no words to say.

All he knows is that his girlfriend of five years has finally gone crazy enough to jump to conclusions of such high magnitude of stupidity.

And, that Park Jimin is a dead man.

It all begins on an unsuspecting Sunday morning, when the entire house is smelling of weed, stale booze and some worse fluids. 

Last night, Seokjin vacated his own bedroom for the boys to smoke up in at Jimin's request, because that is the only well ventilated room of the house. He spent the night in Yoongi's room with earplugs in, dead to all the chaos in the house—as he often does on party nights—to catch up on his beauty sleep. He cannot afford any unbecoming dark circles or, God forbid, breakouts.

And no, that's not a comedic moment, he really does need his face looking perfect this week for reasons outside of personal gratification too, because he has a shoot on Tuesday. He especially took a leave from his part-time job at the Mexican restaurant downtown where his girlfriend, you, work full-time, on a Tuesday—saying goodbye to all the amazing tips always forwarded to the cooks on Taco Tuesday—for this. Nothing would mess up his face.

Not to mention that one very important audition for a very gigantic project he's been looking forward to. They're yet to announce the date, but it would be this very month. He hasn't really told you much about it, planning a huge surprise for later when—if, actually, but he prefers to be unrealistically optimistic in every situation possible—he bags the coveted position, at the end. He hasn't really decided upon much, other than a long drive and a picnic date to one of those grasslands on the city's outskirts that you love so much. Oh, and bringing up the prospect of moving in together in an apartment with just the two of you. 

He's pretty certain you must not remember him raving about the opportunity, because it has been months since he did that. He then proceeded to be covert about all the mini auditions and trainings he underwent to prepare for the final audition, and he is confident you have not connected the dots.

But that is all a discussion for later — he doesn't even know when he would be auditioning. 

The crux of the whole matter is that he needs to keep looking as flawless as he can until that audition happens.

So he has slept like a baby, last night, while the rest of his friends have partied, including two out of three of his housemates—Hoseok and Jimin—along with Taehyung and Taehyung's girl. Namjoon had foregone attendance in lieu of the Halloween party, next weekend, that he knows he would definitely be forced to attend because Hoseok is hosting. Yoongi, his third and final housemate, escaped the house altogether to spend a night of music-making with Jungkook in his dorm.

So, in the morning, when Seokjin is moving around his kitchen that seems to have been hit by a tornado, checking the fridge and mentally praying that his baggie of smoothie ingredients is still in good shape—a scream echoes around the house.

Seokjin freezes. That sounded a lot like…you.

Immediately alert, he runs out of the kitchen and into the drawing room. Hoseok is hanging upside down on one of the couches, something that looks a lot like undigested white sauce pasta puddles on the ground, inches from his new, fiery red hair. Seokjin grimaces.

"Kim Seokjin!" your screech tears the silence.

Seokjin twists on his heels, looking up in the direction of his bedroom. It really is you. And you're in his bedroom—the room he did not occupy last night.

God only knows what kind of a scene you have walked in on. He hopes these idiots didn’t have an orgy up there, although he really can’t put it past them.

Not waiting another second, Seokjin rushes up the stairs and pushes through the doors to his bedroom. His mouth falls open on an audible gasp.

You stand next to his bed, dressed up elegantly in a navy dress that ends above your knees—which makes him wonder if you are here for an impromptu breakfast date—with one hand clutching his duvet that has uncovered what looks like…

…a head of long, dirty blonde hair.

Who the fuck?

In his bed?

"Hey, Honey!" Seokjin's voice is a squeak. "You… you here for a date?" he manages out of a suddenly parched throat.

You roll your eyes. "Uh huh. A fact you would've known if you looked at the texts I sent you last night." Your eyes are narrow at him. "This explains why you didn't, though. Busy night, Jin?" 

He balks at your words, at a loss. How could you even think it was him, when you know all about Park Jimin and his escapades?! 

Seokjin's blood boils. Fucking Jimin. There is going to be blood on Seokjin’s hands. 

In the midst of it, the blonde head shifts. 

Soon after, as you two watch, a pair of brown eyes with smudged makeup emerge from inside Seokjin's bed—and the audacity?! There’s makeup all over his covers! Jimin will pay for the dry cleaning. The face is followed by a whole, tiny woman of five-something feet who is, thankfully, covered in a shirt.

Seokjin is almost not breathing when the blonde starts to give him a dreamy smile, his gaze switching between her and you. And it’s extremely stupid, because he hasn’t seen this woman before, ever, in his entire life. But he catches the way your arms fall to your sides and those elegant, dainty fingers of yours ball up into fists as you look at the blondie’s face.

Fortunately, the girl recognises him at last before her grin could turn fully dopey, and with a squeak, jumps out of the bed. “You’re not—um. Hi. Sorry, I, uh. I’ll get going.”

And surprisingly, she does exactly that in less than a minute, leaving you to stare down at Seokjin.

“You know, it’s really unbecoming for a girlfriend to keep finding girls in her boyfriend’s bed every other week and not be given an explanation, ever.” Your tone is teasing, but your eyes are taunting. “You shouldn’t always be so dismissive, you know? What if I start getting ideas? I don’t think you even remember how to make up with your girlfriend, at this point, because I never fight.”

That is when Seokjin starts gawking. And literally doesn’t stop until you’ve left the house.

“I don’t get it,” Jackson says, stuffing cold noodles into his mouth and chewing on them without closing it. “Do you think he cheated on you, or do you not think he cheated on you?”

You look at your best friend with your face twisted up in disgust. You swear to God you would never have agreed to make friends with this guy on your mother’s insistence when the Wang family moved in next doors to you, had you known he’d turn out to be such a barbarian a decade later. Twelve-year-old Jackson had been such a decent kid—studious, elegant, well-mannered. What went wrong, along the way?

You exhale, shifting on your chair, very wary of any dried up fluids that you might come in contact with. “I know he did not cheat on me, Jax, the very notion is completely ridiculous.”

Jackson stops chewing and looks away from the WWE match playing on the TV to squint at you. “I’m…confused? Wait. What is the problem, then? What are you mad at him for?”

To be completely honest, you aren’t quite certain yourself.

But you do know that you don’t feel good. And that this feeling has been building up over a couple months, but you have only really acknowledged it head-on, today, in all five-something years of your relationship. Five years, seven months and eight days, to be exact, but that’s kinda besides the point.

You’ve had at least a few months’ worth of buildup that has gotten you to this point, you would admit. Especially after Seokjin had to cancel that visit to your hometown at the end of June, for your parents’ thirty-fifth wedding anniversary celebration because he had an important audition for a big-brand ad film. The cancellation was acceptable, but his offhand comment that, “thirty-five isn’t even that special, we’ll get them a huge gift for their fiftieth,” stayed with you longer than it should’ve. Things got okay-ish when you reminded yourself how Seokjin never really thought too hard about things he said, always being a humorous, unattached clown in every situation. But this morning's dismissal has pushed you over that edge. You straightaway goaded him, claiming he doesn’t remember how to make it up to you, and all you got in response was his shock and being called “ridiculous” and “overdramatic.” Fun.

You were most certainly joking, if a bit caustically, when you said what you did. He could have taken it as a joke and laughed it off. He could have taken it as a threat and comforted you, said it was Jimin that used his room, and maybe kissed you. You already knew what had happened when you saw the girl, anyway. But this was probably the third time this situation had happened, this month. 

Sure, you are understanding and really do know Jimin and what all he gets up to, but is that really supposed to be such a given? Asking your boyfriend to hug you close and kiss your forehead when you discover a girl in his bed just as you were about to cuddle the lump of sheets thinking it was him, is not too much to expect, is it?

Granted, Seokjin has never been extremely expressive, but still. It feels like he’s consciously trying to keep you at a distance, these past few months.

You don’t have the complete grasp of the storm of thoughts in your head yet, but you want to try and explain it to Jackson the best you can. 

“It was about respect, in a way, I guess,” you quietly mumble, and Jackson turns the TV off, now sitting cross legged on the couch to face your chair. He puts away his takeout container to frown at you, probably gleaning how serious this is for you. “He stood there, without saying a single word, expecting me to stop being mad. Almost willing me to stop being mad by making these big, incredulous eyes at me. Like it was that horrible of his girlfriend to demand for an explanation when she found a girl in his bedroom. It was just the two of us, I wasn’t making a scene in front of anybody. He just—ugh! He could’ve simply asked me to not be mad, said it was Jimin who spent the night in the room and maybe even laughed about it, or plotted Jimin’s murder—I would’ve joined in—but no. He acted like I was being stupid, told me not be ridiculous and dramatic. And that made me feel really stupid.”

Jackson winces. “And why do you think you were not being stupid?”

You exhale. “I wasn’t. Because I wasn’t actually accusing him of anything, and five years down the lane, he should know that now. I just wanted him to say it and not scold me when I tease-taunted him. He always expects me to know everything. And even though I always do, it gets tiring sometimes. These weird thoughts get to you — that maybe you’re being too understanding and he’s using that to his advantage, you know?” You look down at your lap, playing with your nails. “It’s just…um. I wanted him to coddle me, I guess. To treat this as something big because I was throwing a tantrum about it and, just, I don’t know—try to cajole me? Assuage me with his words, maybe? But he didn’t. Because he hasn’t done that in forever. Because I never need him to, because I always freaking understand everything!” A sob leaves you.

Jackson pats the place next to him. “C’mere, you dumdum, and stop hyperventilating,” he mumbles, hugging you to his side when you move to sit on the couch. “I don’t exactly understand how the relationship dynamics work, but from what you told me, I get that you wanted attention? Some loving? And instead you got disappointed looks because Jin expected you to be mature and rational about it — the way you always are — and that too with his fucking eyes and some low-key insult words? Is it something like that?”

Wow, Jackson really paraphrased all that amazingly. “Yes, actually. It’s exactly that.”

Jackson sighs. “Y’all have been together a long time, babe, so I guess it’s kind of a given that you’d get to a no-bullshit point. Which is why he hasn’t done that in forever, because y’all probably don’t need that kinda stuff between you anymore.”

“I get that, it’s how a relationship matures. But I’m pretty certain that it’s not supposed to make me feel like this,” you sound slightly muffled, having stuffed your face into Jackson’s hoodie-covered chest. “I feel—I feel like we got too comfortable and now he’s just started to take me for granted. And I also feel like I’m being too needy. Am I being needy and annoying? He’d hate me if I told him all this, won’t he? Half of the reason we’ve worked out so well is because we’re both career oriented and don’t waste time overthinking stupid shit.” You gasp. “Oh, no—would he leave me? He’s used to his girlfriend being mature, not needy—”

You are cut off when Jackson pulls you away by your shoulders, giving you a serious look. “Wait, wait, stop. What did you say? Not the needy part, you’re allowed to be needy once in all the damn three-sixty-five days y’all stay busy for. The…taking you for granted part. Pretty big of a thing to say, babe.”

You sigh. “We haven’t been on an actual date in months. Seokjin thinks there’s no need for that extra effort when we spend lunch breaks at work together, everyday. Outside of the restaurant, our meetings involve our entire flock of friends by default. It’s been three months since we slept together.” You sniff, hating having to impart such a private detail of your life. “So no, I don’t think it’s that big of a thing to say, at all.”

“Wow.” Jackson gives a slow whistle. “You’ve really been bottling up a lot in there, huh?”

You shrug. “I guess. It never made me feel underappreciated, though. Sure, I was irritated at some occasions and disappointed at others, but… Today I feel horrible, Jax.”

“Did you share anything with Byulyi?” he asks, referring to your flatmate and good friend since college.

You shake your head. “She already has a lot on her plate, right now. She got rejected by the photographer she wanted to intern with, so it’s back to freelancing for her.”

“Yeah, that must suck.” Jackson grimaces. Then he looks at you. “You need to take a break, hun. Sit back, today, and have tacos and beer with me. Reset your inner thoughts. Talk to Jin tomorrow. Although, I must say, it’s kinda depressing that you have to actually tell your boyfriend that he’s being a bad boyfriend. Isn’t that kind of shit supposed to be realized on your own?”

You purse your lips. “I guess, yeah. But…don’t say that he’s being a bad boyfriend, Jax. I don’t think he even realizes something is wrong.”

“And that…doesn’t make it worse?” At your raised eyebrows, he concedes with a roll of his eyes. “Fine, fine, in any case — maybe try to hint at it before you dive straight in with the kill? See if he reacts?”

“I don’t know, Jax. What if he doesn’t? He’s really not the best at taking hints and reading signs, or that kind of subtle stuff.”

“Then you can just say your shit. All I’m saying is, give him a chance to figure it out on his own. He’s probably really clueless why you reacted so big on something so small, this morning. If you drop hints, maybe he’ll feel it out.”

You nod, somewhat amazed at how sound Jackson’s advice seems. “How are you doing this, Jax? Being a love guru all of a sudden?”

Jackson scoffs. “I’m just tryna put myself in Seokjin’s shoes. If I was in the situation he’s in, this is what I’d like to happen — be given a window to figure out what’s wrong. You’ve been together a long time, hun. It really shouldn’t be that difficult for him.”

You shrug a shoulder. “I won’t be too sure about that. Why does it even matter if he can or cannot, though?”

Jackson seems to be mulling over something before he drops his chin to his chest. “Because you’re supposed to be partners, hun. If you can tell what’s up with him with a single glance, why can't he? Not being good at taking signs is not a good enough excuse. My gut says that he’d be able to, though. And that knowledge will make you feel infinitely better, trust me. It’ll be reassuring to learn that he really knows and understands you well, won’t it?”

You nod, slowly, but you still have your suspicions. Seokjin has just been the kind of guy whose emotional depth goes to a certain extent and then just — well, stops. There are things that he feels and realizes and sees, and there are things that he doesn’t. It isn’t even something he does, you believe. It’s just how he is. Certain feelings just don’t fall in his orbit. And you’ve never found there to be anything wrong with it when he’s been an immaculately amazing boyfriend and tended to every single one of your needs, always. Well, you have never actually needed emotional consoling, too, so you haven’t had the chance to audition him for that. You keep yourself too busy for all that unnecessary mental pressure. It comes as a surprise, but you have never cried on Seokjin’s shoulder in all these years of your togetherness. You’ve kept your head straight and chin up, even during your college exams. And so has Seokjin, because you’ve never seen him cry, either.

Lately, though, things have been kind of weird. The gradual transformation into your professional lives that began after college, has been drastic in the past few months. Seokjin has been constantly prioritizing his career over you, and you have been understanding about it because you agree with it — to an extent. Seokjin believes it all the way through, though, and you have known for a while that you would hit your limit at some point, and would try to bring him back to yourself. Today morning, it seems, you hit that limit. 

You felt dispensable. 

You hate this feeling.

To be very honest, you know you can get over this. You can give it some time, remind yourself of how much your Jin loves you, believe that he is eventually going to come back to you once he settles, and be understanding about the entire thing. 

You can — but you really don��t want to.

Something tells you that this feeling of getting too comfortable will only fester and take a worse form as time goes by. You can wait it out, sure, and hope you aren’t being a pushover as he works on building his career. You are building your career, too, after all, and at least some of it has been for each other. 

The thing is, your plans with Seokjin are long-term—marriage, kids, white-picket fence, and all that. And you believe that if you are sensing a problem now, you better deal with it now before it has the chance to change its form and affect you both when you are at a more responsible point in your life.

Mind made up, you look up at Jackson, immediately grimacing when he forwards a greasy hand to pick up a taco for you. “I don’t…I don’t like tacos. And may I exchange the beer for scotch?”

“You work at a Mexican restaurant, and you don’t like tacos,” Jackson deadpans.

“They mess up my skincare.”

“Oh, fuck off! Have a spinach smoothie with a drink, why don’t you?”

You purse your lips to hold back your laughter at his ire, your own worries forgotten in the moment as Jackson gets up to get you a glass of scotch and some healthier snacking alternative.

“You're a dead man.”

Jimin stops dead in his tracks, arms frozen in the act of putting a t-shirt on. He blinks at Seokjin with big round eyes. “Hyung?” he mumbles, a picture of unblemished innocence, especially when he covers his toned torso with the oversized t-shirt he was in the process of getting into. “What—what’d I do?”

Someone who doesn’t know better would never believe that this young, innocent, frazzled haired fairy-boy could ever do any wrong. But Seokjin knows better. “You chaotic womanizer,” Seokjin nearly hisses, "you've gotta learn to clean after yourself. Honey found a girl in my bed. A girl—in my bed.”

Jimin had the decency to drop the innocent act. “Oh. Oh.”

Seokjin raises a brow. “Oh? That’s it?”

"Yeah, well, I clarified to her that it was a one time thing when we got to it. She was obviously expecting something more if she didn't leave when I told her to. Disappointed but not surprised." Jimin is frowning when he comes to sit down on the couch next to Seokjin. “Sorry you two had to see that. You clarified to Honey noona that I’d been the occupant of the room, though, right?” 

“I—what?” Seokjin scoffs. “Why would I even need to do that? She knows that already, obviously. She’s been seeing you for over five years, or have you forgotten?”

Jimin squints. “I mean…okay, fair point, I guess. Why’re you so worked up, then? Did something else happen, too? Where’s she, now?” Jimin looks around the living room as if looking for you.

Seokjin sighs. “Well, I couldn't really get much out before she was storming out of the damn house, altogether.”

Jimin blinks. “Storming out? Why? She… um, was she mad?"

Seokjin opens his mouth – and then shuts it. Was she mad, indeed. "I don't know. She looked kinda mad, yes. But maybe she was in a hurry?" 

"Why would she be mad? Did you try to call her? Text her? It's unlike her to react so big on something so small." Jimin bites down on his lip, looking lost in thought. 

Seokjin shakes his head. "She didn't pick up or text back."

“There’s definitely got to be an underlying reason for her being like this. Are you sure you guys haven’t been fighting, hyung?” 

Seokjin sighs. “Yes, Jimin, I’m absolutely certain that there hasn’t been any fighting of any sorts between the two of us before today.” He pauses. “Well, she was slightly irritated that I didn’t check her texts last night, but she knows I go to bed at eleven on days leading up to a shoot, so that one’s on her.”

Jimin looks genuinely concerned, which, in turn, makes Seokjin concerned. Jimin isn't the type to stress over stuff if he can help it. Sure, he cares about the boys and would always be down to do whatever he can for them, but his throwing-caution-to-the-wind way of life causes him to not take most of the things in life seriously.

You’ve been like an older sister to the boys ever since Seokjin started dating you and introduced you to them. They all have their ways of showing their respect and affection to you. Well, maybe not Jungkook because he can’t get over getting unnecessarily intimidated by Seokjin enough to relax around you. 

Jimin, especially, always seems to be affected by any tension in Seokjin’s relationship. Everyone can see how it upsets his entire life when you two are fighting, although he’d never admit to it. He doesn’t need to, because it’s pretty obvious when he becomes a cranky six-year-old who hates the world. 

Right now, he has a guilty frown on his face. "I should've seen to it that Suzette left before I went to shower," he mumbles as if talking to himself. “Shouldn’t have trusted her to leave just because I told her to.” He looks up at Seokjin with troubled eyes. "I'm sorry, hyung."

Seokjin can not believe himself when he shakes his head at Jimin's apology—this little demon causes so much chaos in all their lives that any apology coming from him should be justified and welcome. But this one isn't really on him. "It's not entirely your fault."

Jimin's demeanor changes a bit and the attitude Seokjin is used to witnessing makes an appearance. "Right? That's what I was thinking, too!" Jimin exclaims, some of the concern on his face lifting. "You have to talk to Honey noona and make things right, though, hyung. She’s the only womanly touch in our man cave. We’d all be barbarians without her.” Jimin looks very wary and kind of nervous.

“It’s funny you would crave her ‘womanly’ presence when she’s rushed off because of a woman that you brought home.” Seokjin scrunches his nose. "And I said it isn't entirely on you, because it is partially on you, Park Jimin. You borrowed my room to smoke up in. Why couldn't you take your Suzy back to your own room?"

"Suzette," Jimin corrects under his breath while shaking his head. "Yeah, I should've, but… your room just felt like a better choice during the high," he finishes in a mumble, dragging a hand down his face. “Hyung,” Jimin says with a pout on his lips, “the last time you two fought was two years ago, remember? On your birthday? When Hobi hyung dumped cake in noona’s hair and she had her first shoot for that bigshot magazine, the next day?”

Seokjin nods with a sigh. “She yelled at me for having stupid friends, and I yelled at her for caring more about the shoot that having a good time on my birthday. Yes, I remember.”

“And then she didn’t visit us for a whole week. Please don’t let that happen, again.” Jimin looks up at Seokjin with big, round eyes. “I can’t take that kind of unrest in my life."

Seokjin briefly wonders, if Jimin’s nightly conquests were to see this side of him, would they run in the opposite direction or be more attracted to him? Jimin definitely needs someone in his life that would bring out this side in him and stay to provide him the emotional comfort he requires when he gets like this. 

“I will try not to, Jiminie, but…” Seokjin shuts his eyes. “I seriously do not understand her actions from the morning,” he finishes in a mumble.

“Maybe she’s—maybe she’s worried about something else? Some other aspect of her life?” Jimin suggests with wide eyes. “And she’s just projecting onto you.”

“As sound as the explanation is, I am literally involved in ninety percent of the aspects in her life,” Seokjin says with a twist to his lips. “I would know if something was wrong anywhere.”

“That’s cocky of you to say,” Jimin snarkily comments with narrowed eyes. At Seokjin’s raised eyebrows, he amends, “That’s cocky of you to say, hyung-nim.”

Seokjin scoffs, but then he shrugs his shoulders. “It’s true. We work at the same restaurant, we’re scouted by the same agency. Even her agent is best friends with mine—she gossips a ton about how Honey passes up so many opportunities and pisses her agent off. Her friends are, well—” Seokjin stops short when it hits him. “Wang. Wang could know something!”

Jimin is looking at him skeptically when Seokjin meets the younger’s eyes. “I just think you should have a simple talk with noona first before digging around.”

That is sensible advice. Seokjin nods as he pulls his phone out.

“Just find out what’s been troubling her, hyung. You two are rational people, I’m sure you’ll work it out.” Jimin pauses to scratch the back of his head. “Just please don’t let this be another fight like that one?”

“Don’t worry,” Seokjin finally says with a pat on Jimin’s shoulder as he finishes sending off another text to you, “this one is nothing like that fight.”

Turns out, this fight really is not like that one. Or any other fights Seokjin has ever had with you, in fact, because you’re giving him the silent treatment. 

You’ve never given him the silent treatment. 

Not even when you were students and didn’t have a load of time on your hands and used to waste precious sleep hours arguing over stupid shit that would probably resolve itself if you just slept on it and looked back at it with a fresh state of mind. Not even then did you forego talking.

Needless to say, Seokjin is distressed.

You drive to the house to pick him up at your usual time, the next morning, after not having responded to any of his calls or texts for the entire day. Seokjin is aghast as he gets into the car.

“Honey! What is going on? Why didn’t you—where have you been?”

You simply start the engine and take off. “Busy,” you murmur after a while.

Soekjin’s head is close to exploding. “Busy? Doing what?”

Your face remains stoic as you weave through the morning traffic. Seokjin looks at you. You’re dressed up in your waitressing outfit that consists of a shirt, skirt and tights, and being who you are, Seokjin can proudly say that you would stand out to be the most well dressed server in the field. You’re always pristine and tidy — no accidents happen to you at the job ever. No spillage of drinks or ketchups, no soiled hands being wiped down on your skirt. Nothing even ruins your manicure. 

It is something that Seokjin has always tried to keep up with, this cleanliness streak of yours. Because he has always assumed you would expect it out of him, too. You were attracted to the cover model version of him, after all. It is quite natural that you would have those kinds of expectations. And Seokjin has always been more than happy to deliver. It has become a part of him, in fact. He doesn't even chew with his mouth open even when he's among the boys, anymore.

It has, somewhat, made him practical and less emotional in life, too, but he doesn't really think of it as a bad thing. You have always been practical in life – the most ambitious girl he has ever met, someone that has always prioritized her career and goals over everything else. Seokjin has admired that since college, and has tried to show you that he has similar priorities even if he has had to work on thinking from his mind more than his heart.

But when you are already by his side, what does he even need his heart for, anymore, when it's already yours?

Now, looking at you sitting with a morose expression on your face as you give him the cold shoulder, Seokjin is just as much in love with you as he was when he first met you.

“Stuff,” you say with a shrug, after some extended silence. “You should know about that, right? Your schedule’s always busier than mine and I never complain.”

Your sharp words have him reeling. Whatever do you even mean by that? “Uhm, okay. Fair enough. But… did you really not have the time to respond to a single text?”

“It gets impossible sometimes, Jin, you know how it is.”

Seokjin frowns. He does know that, but he doesn’t feel okay. Something is very off with you. It is as if you’re saying something else and expecting him to discern a different meaning out of it. 

He doesn’t understand why, though. You, of all people, should know how terrible he is at decoding signs.

He sighs.

Seokjin, after his conversation with Jimin yesterday, had decided to ask you about the morning’s incident, head on, whenever you called him back. But you didn’t, and this is the first opportunity he’s had to talk to you, so he decides to bring it up, now. “What—what happened yesterday morning, babe? You got really mad and stormed off, and… I mean, you’ve got to know the girl had been Jimin’s companion for the night, right? You know him, how he is!”

You say nothing, hands tightening a bit on the steering wheel. Seokjin looks down at his own hands.

“You know I was only surprised at your words because we really do not have the time to be discussing silly things." He shuts his heart down when it tries to tell him to go soft. He knows it isn't something you would appreciate. "After five years, you know what I’m capable of right? You can never start getting ideas, because that would be insane and stupid. I’m already so supremely occupied as it is between two jobs, when would I even have the time to cheat, right?” he jokes, snorting to himself.

You’re still quiet, but your tongue comes out to moisten your lips. It is a nervous tick of yours which Seokjin recognizes very well, because with your skincare and scheduled regular application of lip balms, your lips never need the extra moisture.

He frowns. Was he too straightforward? But this is exactly how you communicate with him! “Hey, is everything okay, babe?”

You exhale, noisily. “Everything’s fine, Jin,” you finally say with a roll of your eyes. “And you’re right. I know you wouldn’t cheat. You don’t have the time to chat me up, how are you gonna pick someone new to impress, huh?” 

Your snort sounds lacking in humor, but Seokjin still gives a couple of stilted chuckles. Even so, he's still somewhat relieved. “Right. Just so we’re certain, that was a joke, right? I mean, it would be really ridiculous of you to think that I would—”

“Yes, Jin!” you cut him off with a deep frown. “If I wanted to talk to you about something, or accuse you, or confront you — I’d do that without you having to prompt me. Stop obsessing over yesterday and stop trying to explain yourself. I know it was Jimin’s doing.”

Seokjin feels immensely relaxed at the conviction with which you say the last sentence, certainly, but something is still off. “Why were you ignoring me, then?”

“I just didn’t have anything to say to you.” You stop at a red light, the last one before you reach the restaurant, and turn to look at Seokjin with really vacant eyes. He doesn’t like your stare one bit. “We’ve been together five years, babe. If neither of us have got anything of significance to say, I’d rather not text too much, if that’s okay with you? I’ve got a busy schedule to work around, too, you know?”

Seokjin wants to remind you that both of you had something of significance to say after you left his place in anger, but chooses to just roll with whatever you’re playing at. Maybe he's thinking too much. He nods. “Sounds alright to me.”

“Great,” you breathe out, somehow looking disappointed along with the preexisting sorrowful expression you had on your face.

You really do not have a concrete explanation for why you acted the way you did with Seokjin, this morning. 

You were supposed to hint at being mad, not blatantly try to give him a taste of his own medicine. It could turn out to be a good thing if he eventually starts to miss you and reaches out, sure, but playing mind games never feels right to you. But when he started to joke about not having time to cheat, and something just turned off in you. He really could’ve seriously reassured you of his love. That would’ve been actually comforting. But no. He chose to joke about that, too. You didn’t feel like putting in all that energy anymore, after that.

Now, you sit down in the break room to check your phone during your ten minutes’ rest break. A text message floats at the top of your notifications.

Jax 🚽 Hey How’d it go?

With an exhale, you decide to call him back. Your fingers are too tired to type, and Jackson is sure to launch off into a rampage of texts the moment you tell him you’ve tried to turn the tables on Seokjin.

Seokjin is in the kitchen, his usual rest break not being for another hour, so you don’t have to worry about him walking in.

“Hey!” Jackson jovially greets you as soon as he picks the phone. “Did you get my text?”

“I did, yes,” you respond in a calm voice. “I’ve been looping milkshake mugs through my fingers since eight am, they needed some rest, so I decided to call.”

“Yeah, no, it’s cool. I was in a really boring class, anyway. So. How'd it go?"

You pull in your lip between your teeth. "I… I kinda ended up telling him I am a busy person too and that we shouldn’t text that much."

You hear silence instead of the outburst you'd expected. 

"Jax?"

"Are you actually gonna try to play a mind game with the dumbest human being you know on earth?" Jackson so very eloquently asks, his interpretation making you pinch the bridge of your nose. “He’s never even gonna figure it out!”

“I know how it sounds, okay?” You exhale. “I honestly don’t know what came over me.”

“Okay, alright, one thing at a time. So, no coddling?"

"Not a single soft word. Just more expectations of me understanding, and claiming that anything but that would be stupid of me. He acts like I'm supposed to know everything about him and everyone in his group of friends," you mutter in irritation. “As if those dumbasses know the first thing about themselves.”

You realize you're being a bit harsh, because his friends – basically your younger brothers, at this point – are a bunch of clueless idiots that love, adore and respect you. You shouldn't be badmouthing them, Seokjin’s growing callousness towards you isn't their doing. It's his own. 

You sigh. You really miss how things used to be when you were in college.

“Uh, I think we need to rewind a bit. What happened? What triggered this?”

It makes you smile a little when Jackson asks that. At least your best knows you’re not wholly clinically insane. “Well… I drove him to work. He…" your brows lower at the recollection, "he was the first to bring up yesterday morning. And yet again, he gave me the same you've got to know this and that crap, and then he tried to assure me in the dumbest possible way. Do you know what he said, Jax, do you?”

“Um, do I wanna know?”

“He said, and I quote, he doesn’t have the time to cheat. Jackson Wang, are you hearing this? He really straight up said he was too busy to cheat on me and so I should rest assured! Who says that?!”

“He must’ve meant it as a joke—”

“Yeah, he said that, too, and then very immaculately added that it’d be ridiculous of me to think otherwise. I have lost count of how many times the words ridiculous and stupid came up.”

“Goddammit.”

“Goddammit is right,” you mumble, morosely resting your head on your palm.

“What did he say, by the way? When you told him to text less?”

You give a wry chuckle. "Well, he said it sounded alright to him."

"Son of a bitch. You – you two are messed up, man. Messed up bad. Why the hell can you not just say shit you really mean and actually want to instead of saying shit you don't? You don't wanna text less because you're busy, you want him to dote on you because you miss him!" Jackson sounds beyond frustrated. "And it doesn't fucking sound alright to him! It sounds scary, it sounds confusing, it sounds like something you would never say to him!" He groans. "But none of you would say that shit to each other! You’re choosing to be evasive and fucking plastic instead of honest, and falling deeper into your mess."

You reel from the onslaught of his harsh words, eyes widened and breath stuttering. Jackson isn't usually the type to pay so much attention to your relationship problems. But this time, you guess, he has garnered the depth of your unhappiness and thus has gotten so involved.

You realize he is right. Nothing good can come out of any turned tables, because Seokjin is, anyways, not even going to be able to work out the problem by himself. He may even go around talking to his friends about how you were being cold with him and not giving him any time, and still not realize he has been doing the same to you. He is thick like that. 

When his friends tell you tales of his compassion, you're unable to relate. You've never seen that side of him. He has probably grown up from that emotionally overwhelmed high school graduate who had made friends on a whim, the night of his graduation.

You certainly don't appreciate the emotional abstinence, though, and would very much rather prefer if he would open up a bit more. It would help you be more open with him, without fearing him calling you "stupid" in response.

But it’s still alright, you accept him with that thick brain of his, because he’s still only ever going to be the only one for you.

"How are you two gonna get around to having a proper chat if you just keep building more walls between you both?" Jackson asks after the long pause from your end, this time softer. “I’m sorry, babe, I was wrong. Giving him signs and making him realize shit won’t work. It was stupid of me to suggest that. It’s probably why you ended up being so caustic with him.

“No, no, it was all me, Jax. I could’ve chosen to not listen to you, but my ego got in the way, I guess. It’s not exactly easy, telling your boyfriend you’re feeling neglected. I mean, what if he laughs in my face and tells me I’m being paranoid? What if he thinks I have no regard for his career — or mine — because my priorities don’t align with his?” You bite your lip, shutting your eyes as your insecurities attack you.

“Hey, no. None of that is gonna happen if you really share with him what you’ve been feeling. No hints, no sarcasm, you’re gonna have to tell him point blank. Allow yourself to be raw. He’s the love of your life. You don’t have to protect yourself from him, right?”

You sigh. “Yeah, I know. You’re absolutely right, Jax. But I really have no idea how to even approach him, at this point. He’s either too busy with shoots, or with the guys, or some meeting. I cannot do this on call, because that always leads to misunderstandings.” You bite down on your lower lip, contemplating. “But I’ll figure something out.”

"Yes, you will. You always do. So, that’s good then. In the meanwhile, can you at least clean up this latest pile of poop? The talking less thingy is gonna make you two more distant, hun."

You scrunch your nose at his metaphor, but then your shoulders slump. "I don't know, Jackson. The way he so impassively agreed to it would make me sound really stupid if I take it back. And given what he keeps saying, he really doesn’t want me to sound stupid."

Jackson gives a snort at that. “Hah, funny. But listen. At the end of the day, he’s your boyfriend. You're gonna have to really decide if you're trying to get your boyfriend to give you more love, or if you're fighting a battle of egos and would like to bend him to you."

You bite your lip. “You make me sound manipulative.”

“You yourself confessed you let your ego come into this, one time. Don’t let that happen again. I’m trying to make you realize that complicated problems can have simple solutions, too. If only you’d communicate. Just talk to him soon, please, and make him understand why you’re hurt. Don’t carry on with this stupid cold war, okay? You gotta figure out exactly what you want, first.”

“You know what I want, Jax. You’re literally the only person that does, actually,” you remind him with a sigh.

“Oh, he is, isn’t he?”

You freeze, eyes bulging at the familiar voice. “I’ll… I’ll call you back,” you mumble before you disconnect the call and turn to look over your shoulder at Seokjin’s unreadable face. He stands with his arms crossed, still in his uniform but without the apron. “Jin… what—uh…”

“What am I doing here?” he scoffs, lips curling in distaste as he stares you down. “Well, I was going to the loo when I saw you sitting here. You looked upset, so I thought I’d check in on you on my way back.” He clicks his tongue, a dry chuckle tumbling out. “But apparently, you’ve got other people doing it for you, already.”

You wince, shutting your eyes. The one time he was finally going to give you some much needed attention — you sent a bad message his way. 

“So. Good to know there actually is someone who knows what you want. Would’ve been easier if it were me, though, given how I stand to be the one that is to deliver.” Seokjin sounds pissed off, and despite your irritation, you really want to make him understand.

You rub at your forehead. “Stop talking like that, Jin, it was just Jackson.”

“Wang?” He seems to seethe more, for some reason. “Of course, it’s fucking Wang!”

You frown, standing up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Seokjin looks at you incredulously. “You—do you not see how this looks? You have problems with me, Honey, but you choose to discuss them with him? Who’s he, your therapist?”

“He’s my best friend, Jin, someone I trust,” you grit out.

Seokjin seems to take it the wrong way, his agitated expressions slowly fading into a blank stare. “Oh. You trust him, as opposed to…” He trails off with a shrug, but the implication is as obvious as it can be.

“Jin—”

He raises a hand up, palm facing you as he looks away. “If you need some time apart, you should tell me in plain words. You know I’m not good at reading signs.”

Seokjin gives you a blank stare before turning around to leave the area. You stand rooted to your place, jaw dropped and eyes wide.

Some time apart? Has he lost his mind? 

He really is a huge freaking idiot who cannot pause to think what implications his words have. He seriously doesn’t recognize what all his “don’t be ridiculous/overdramatic/stupid” speeches do to you. You realize you should really make him understand. This has gone on for way too long.

But maybe you should take some time to yourself to cool off before that. You don’t want to say the wrong thing in your rage and complicate things further.

You sigh to yourself as you slump back into the bench you were sat on before.

You’d set out to tell your boyfriend you were feeling neglected, but you ended up making him think you want to be apart. How the heck did you get here?

You belatedly recall Jackson's words.

Why the hell can you not just say shit you really mean and actually want to instead of saying shit you don't?

You’re choosing to be evasive and fucking plastic instead of honest, and falling deeper into your mess.

Your usually dumbheaded best friend was right on this one, you realize. You should’ve just talked like a normal human being instead of letting Seokjin’s words get to you and get pissy in retaliation.

You give a weary sigh. 

Seokjin is grateful for the sudden busyness he’s got on his schedule, or he would explode from all the pent up frustration you have been causing him. 

He realized he wasn’t as upset with you as he was irritated, right after he walked away from you on Monday. He dropped you a text with some excuse of needing to stay back so that he wasn’t forced to ride with you in the car again, and later took the bus home. 

You had told Jackson Wang about what was troubling you, but not him. It made Seokjin feel upset, incompetent and more than a little insecure. Seokjin absolutely hates feeling insecure. Especially about you. You’re the singular most precious entity in his life — not that you are an entity, per se — and anything that seeks to threaten your position in his life or his position in yours, makes him lose his shit.

So it was understandable that he jumped to unfairly disproportionate magnitudes of conclusions that day. When he thought about it, later, he could easily tell that you are just mad at him and not actually contemplating leaving him, not even for a little while. Not that he’d just sit back and have you do that so easily.

Seokjin also hates overthinking, but that is all he did for the entirety of his Monday. 

Monday, though, was the last time he had time to overthink. Life got exponentially busier after that.

Immediately after his shoot on Tuesday, he received his agent’s call and was informed of his jam packed schedule for the remainder of the week. He was pulled into two separate magazine ad shoots on Wednesday, a perfume ad film drank up all of his Thursday, and today, a hair product ad film needed him to report to a sunrise point in the city at the ass-crack of dawn. The sky was still dark when he rode across the city with his agent at nearly four in the morning. 

And now, the afternoon sun beats down on his car as he drives back alone, his agent staying back to tend to some business. Stopping at a red light, he reaches for his spinach smoothie with one hand and his phone with the other. Ugh, he feels beyond tired.

Blearily, he looks down at the device around a yawn, fingers habitually reaching for your chat.

He took a week off from the restaurant and dropped you a text, late Tuesday evening, informing you of the same.

Honey✨❤👸 Hm, kay. Good luck x

Unsurprisingly, that stands to be your last message in his inbox. It’s been four days.

Sighing, he swipes a hand down his tired face and exits out of the message app. He went to bed at nine o’clock, last night, and owing to the way he has trained his body to sleep on command, he did manage to get a sleep of nearly six hours, too. But it was fitful and plagued with nightmares featuring you. 

Knowing he doesn't have to be at the restaurant until Monday and that his next gig isn’t until Wednesday, he cannot wait to get back home and drink his weight in alcohol before he sleeps his way through the weekend.

Just as he has moved past the intersection, his phone rings. 

Honey✨❤👸 calling...

He nearly spits the smoothie he just sipped at.

Coughing, he roughly jostles the plastic cup back in the holder and pulls up to a side of the road to pick up the call. “Hey,” he breathes into the phone, embarrassed at his desperation.

“Jin. Um, hi.” You sound awkward, as if you…have been compelled to call him due to some reason.

He is immediately worried. “Honey? Is everything okay, do you need something?”

He hates himself for being so concerned when you have been neglecting him for so many days – yet again, despite your spat at the restaurant – instead of finally talking to him about what’s bothering you, but he can’t help it. At the end of the day, you are the love of his life. 

“Yes, yes, I’m okay. It’s just, um. Can you pick me up from the restaurant?” you sound nervous.

But, Seokjin realizes, I was right. You do need something. He clears his throat. “Uh, okay, I guess,” he agrees before stopping short when he realizes the time. “Wait, it’s barely even two. Why are you leaving?” he asks, confused and a little concerned. You work your shift till five every day and till eight on weekends.

“Tomorrow is Halloween, Jin. We’re closing for the weekend, remember?”

Seokjin’s mouth falls open on a gasp. He really had forgotten. “Oh. Oh, okay. Yeah, I’ll be there in five, wait up.”

He swerves the car into the lane and takes off in the direction of the restaurant. 

He laughs at himself. He has been so caught up in work that he literally forgot Halloween. He wonders if this is what actual adulting is.

He is stopping before the restaurant within three minutes of your phone call, eyes immediately spotting your delicate figure standing on the sidewalk with your hands crossed against your chest.

You step down from the curb when you spot his car, and walk towards him. He watches your elegant legs as they beautifully fall in a straight line. Even when exiting your job as a waitress, you’re every bit the elegant model he met in college. Your hips sway tantalizingly, and something akin to longing swirls in his chest.

He composes himself quickly when you cross the car to get into the passenger’s seat. You awkwardly clear your throat as Seokjin busies himself with starting the vehicle, unsure if he should initiate conversation.

“Um, sorry about this. You were probably getting ready for shoot,” you finally say. “Byulyi dropped me off today. She wasn’t picking her phone up. I was trying to get a cab for half an hour. And the bus stop’s really far—”

“Hey, stop. It’s okay. You should’ve called me sooner.” Seokjin catches your apprehensive gaze on his oversized hoodie when he chances a glance at you. He sighs. “I was returning home from shoot, actually.”

He feels you stiffen, and he feels even more mentally drained at this. You used to be updated with his schedule to the tee — just short of having an actual copy of the calendar his agent carries on him. And the same goes for him with your schedule. This feels so wrong.

You are quiet for a while, your hands fidgeting in his peripheral vision.

“How—how was it?” you finally say, voice coming out like a croak.

Seokjin shrugs his shoulders. “The usual. Blinding, tiring, exhaustive. I did okay, I guess.”

He feels your gaze snap up to drill holes into his skull. Your eyes are wide when he checks. “Okay? Since when do you do anything less than amazing at shoots, babe?”

He feels endeared at your casual use of a pet name. “I had to get up at three in the morning and go through a skincare routine. Then drive across the entire city to get to the location, because they wanted to capture actual sunrise. I was more tired than excited by the time they rolled cameras, so.” He shrugs. “Can’t really say I gave my best today.”

You nod at his admission. 

Seokjin almost jumps when his phone rings, again.

Jiminie calling...

He feels you shift in your seat. His mouth sours at the reminder of that Sue girl that started off this entire tussle between you and him. Fucking Jimin and his conquests. What happened to the shy and more than a little glum looking freshman he let into his living space, three years ago?

Your hand suddenly reaches forth to accept the call, putting it on loudspeaker, immediately. Seokjin gapes at you, momentarily looking away from the road. 

“Uh…hyung?” Jimin’s confused voice echoes in the car. 

Seokjin snaps out of his daze when you gesture towards the device. “Wh—Jimin, hi, what’s — what’s up?” he stumbles his way through a haphazard greeting.

“Hyung, I needed a favor. Are you on your way back from the shoot, right now?” Jimin asks, and Seokjin sees you freeze in your seat.

He feels a perverse sense of satisfaction. Yes, take that! Park Jmin knows of my schedule better than you do! This is what you get for ghosting me! “I was, yeah. What is it?”

“Oh, great! I kinda need your help, hyung. My tire gave out. Could you pick me up from the Kappa hall?”

Seokjin scowls. “Yah! Who am I, your butler? Hop on a damn bus!”

He notices you pursing your lips, no doubt finding his agitation humorous — you always do. 

“Hyu~ng,” Jimin whines. “I would take the bus, but the next one leaves in forty-five minutes and I need to be back within an hour!”

“What? Why?”

“I started on my sem project really late, hyung, and now I gotta spend any time I can spare at the rehearsal hall. I’m meeting a choreographer here in an hour. Please help me out!” Jimin is still whining, and maybe his reasoning is kind of alright, but—

Seokjin is tired to his bones. He literally cannot drive all the way down to your apartment and then drive back to the university campus to pick Jimin up.

He sighs, wearily. “Jimin… I’m really tired.” 

“And I’m really desperate, hyung! Dancing is tough! And the subject I've chosen, tougher. I haven't done ballet since first semester, Freshman year! I have to work my butt off and be done in under two months."

Seokjin exhales, feeling beyond exhausted. But then your finger is tapping on the screen and the call has been muted. Seokjin’s surprised eyes fly up to meet yours. You look conflicted, biting down on your lower lip as you shake your head with a frown.

“You should go home and rest, Jin. Leave the car with me, I’ll pick him up.”

“Hyung? Say something?”

Seokjin blinks. “You…”

You roll your eyes. “I’ll pick him up, yeah. He’ll drop me off and drive back to your place.”

“Hyung?! Did you put me on mute, or what? I can't hear a thing!”

“Tell him you’ll be there in ten!” you say, unmuting the call.

“I’m in the car, the network must have glitched. I’ll, uh… be there in ten?” Seokjin nervously finishes off, looking at you in question. You give him a nod, blinking slowly. “Wait up, okay?”

“Oh my God, thank you so much, hyung!” Jimin practically squeals through the phone. “I’ll be in the ice cream shop across the building. I love you, hyung-nim!”

Seokjin rolls his eyes and disconnects the call. He looks at you from the corner of his eyes as he takes a right, now moving in the direction of his apartment instead of yours. “You sure about this? Jimin, um, knows. About our…” Seokjin doesn’t want to call it the f-word, because he would like to believe that you two aren’t actually fighting. “You being upset, I mean,” he settles for the easier alternative. “He might ask questions.”

You give a small huff of wry laugh. “I can handle it, Seokjin. I’ve known Jimin for almost three years now.”

Seokjin doesn’t like it when you address him by his full name. And so, his lips remain pursed for the remainder of the ride, only parting to tell you to “drive safe and text me when you finally get home,” and then he walks inside his apartment without looking back.

He hears his car come to life and then speed away. He shuts his eyes, leaning against the kitchen counter. Gathering his emotional as well as physical bearings, he opens the refrigerator to rummage through some leftovers to munch on while he breaks out a six pack of Budweiser. 

Before his fried rice has even reheated, Seokjin groans at the sight of an all too jovial Hoseok entering the kitchen with a glint in his eyes. “No, Hobi. Not now.”

“What? I didn’t say a word, hyung!”

Seokjin winces, shutting his eyes just as the microwave beeps. “I don’t have enough energy to deal with your general aura, right now,” he mumbles, extracting the piping hot glass bowl. He leans down to open one of the compartments beneath the kitchen table to get to the beer that he’s been dreaming of for nearly an hour, now. “I’m dead on my feet and—woah!” Seokjin gasps, cutting himself off.

Hoseok hops into the kitchen, coming around to stand behind Seokjin. “So you found ’em,” he says around a chuckle.

“Found ’em? This is you?” Seokjin whips his head around to glare at Hoseok up from his crouch. “Why is my liquor closet resembling a liquor shop, Hobi? Why do we have all this—” he turns around to read the labels, cursing under his breath. “Why do we have,” he pauses to count, “five bottles of Tequila and eight bottles of Vodka?”

Hoseok frowns in concern. “Eight? There should be ten, hyung, check again.”

Seokjin actually gasps, this time. “What the hell, Jung Hoseok? Explain yourself before I start throwing hands!”

Hoseok smacks a palm against his forehead, taking Seokjin by surprise, yet again. “Tonight’s the Halloween party, hyung! Did you actually forget?”

Seokjin screws his eyes shut, letting his head roll back with a frustrated whine. “No~o, don’t tell me it's tonight. Halloween’s tomorrow, right? Why is the party tonight?”

“Yes, hyung, Halloween in tomorrow, which is why it would be stupid to hold the party when Halloween is ending.”

Seokjin finds the logic to be very severely flawed, but his energy is draining out fast and he cannot keep up with this quarrel. There’s no point, anyway. He’s known about this party for nearly a month. And Hoseok isn’t going to postpone a whole party just because Seokjin is tired.

“You look tired, hyung. You should rest. Recharge yourself before the party, okay? There’s plenty of time.” Hoseok pats Seokjin on the shoulder with a kind smile.

“I’m not even in the mood to party, Hobi,” Seokjin mutters, reaching behind all the glass bottles to extract his pack of cans. 

Hoseok scowls at Seokjin. “Because you’re upset about your fight, I realize that. All the more reason to party, hyung! Take your mind off it for some time, why don’t you? You don’t even have to dress up, come as yourself.”

“I’d rather just drink myself to sleep and not wake up for the next twenty four hours.”

Hoseok blocks his path as Seokjin moves to exit the kitchen. “Is Honey coming?”

Seokjin sighs, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know, Hobi. Did you invite her?”

“No, hyung, because you said you would.”

Seokjin clicks his tongue. He completely forgot. “Then she isn’t coming.”

Without listening to his protests, Seokjin trudges upstairs with his food and beer. He will be forced to come down for at least a couple shots, he is certain, so he better make as much of the time he has on his hands as he can.

These days, it seems to be becoming a pattern for you to do things without really understanding why you do them. 

You nibble at your bottom lip as you recall how gaunt and pale Seokjin had looked when you sat in the car. You had been really self-centered as it is, not really keeping in touch with him for four days, and then reaching out when you needed help. You couldn’t bear to think, on top of everything, that he had driven you home despite his extreme exhaustion while you sat back selfishly and let him drive around the city to pick Jimin up when he looked like a ghost.

You shake your head at yourself as Jimin jogs down the road to enter the car, ten seconds after you texted him. 

His gaze is slightly hesitant when he meets your eyes, even though his smile is nothing but genuine. “Hello, noona. How come you are…” he trails off, gesturing around the two of you.

You start the car, shrugging one shoulder. “Seokjin came to pick me up. Now you’re gonna drop me off.”

Jimin gives you a huge smile, before his eyebrows suddenly lower. You look away, veering onto the road. “Wait. Were you in the car with him when I called?”

You chuckle. “Yes.”

“Oh,” Jimin mumbles around a small laugh.

You hum to yourself as you drive, distracting yourself from the thoughts that keep encircling your head. Seokjin is your boyfriend, no matter how mad you might be at him — you love him and care about him. Which is why you have tried to help him out. Not to mention, you felt slightly guilty, as it is, about calling him to pick you up. Why is your gesture of goodwill bothering you, then?

This is what you do for people you care about. Seokjin would do the same.

Your train of thoughts suddenly comes to a screeching halt.

Would he? Would he, really?

“You okay, noona?”

You jolt back from your thoughts, wide eyes turning to look at Jimin. “Wha—yes, yeah, I'm fine.”

He cocks an eyebrow at you. “You’re gripping the wheel really hard.”

You look at your tightly clenched fists, and immediately ease them. “Oh, uh. Sorry. A lot on my mind, I guess.”

“Understandably,” Jimin mutters, looking out of the side window when you turn to look at him.

You purse your lips and press down on the accelerator. 

A few beats of silence pass between you two before Jimin clears his throat. “Can I say something?” he asks you in a soft voice, looking nothing like the seductive persona he puts forth to get ladies falling in his bed. 

You exhale. “Sure.”

“You, um. You are not just hyung’s girlfriend, you know?” he says slowly.

You scoff. “Of course, I do. I am also the very best server my restaurant has ever seen and the best struggling model you’ll ever meet, on the side.”

Jimin snorts, before giggling with his eyes closed. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

You do. But you do not want to face it. You want to be selfish, for once. You do absolutely know that you have been ignoring all the boys in your anger at Seokjin, but you absolutely do not wish to do anything about it. Not until you’ve resolved this tense air between you and Seokjin.

“You are also a part of our little family,” Jimin quietly finishes.

You suck your lips in at that. The word “family'' really gets to you. 

He’s right, isn’t he? 

All eight of you — well, nine, now, with the addition of Taehyung’s girlfriend — have been a family since the day you met these guys.

You smile as the memories start to filter in.

You had had a giant crush on Seokjin since the very first time you saw him in your Freshman year. Well, having a crush on the guy wasn’t that unheard of given how handsome he was. It also helped matters that he modelled for the cover page of your university’s journal within his first month in college. What surprised you was his reciprocated interest when you both finally got to know each other, thanks to Byulyi. Your current roommate was majoring in photography back then, and somehow roped the two of you into modelling for her portfolio. Seokjin asked you out during the sixth month of your Freshman year.

You recall being introduced to Yoongi in your Sophomore year, when he entered your college as a Music major. You found him laid back, calm but really sassy, and fun to be around. The three of you often hung out together, and you took immense pleasure in singling Seokjin out with the two of your sarcastic back and forths.

In your senior year, Hoseok transferred to your college as a Sophomore, and Taehyung and Jimin entered as Freshmen. 

Hoseok was literally the most lively person you’d ever met in your life. There wasn’t a single moment of boredom next to him. He was easily given the responsibility of planning all your outings and parties, henceforth — a position he still holds with full competence.

Taehyung was usually found to be lost in his head more often than not in his initial college days. He was confused about his major for two entire semesters. With inputs from the group, when he eventually picked Art, he eased into college life. After that, he came out to be one of the weirdest and unwittingly funny guys in the group. You still don’t get how he was the first amongst all the boys to find him a girl.

Jimin was a really quiet and reserved individual, at first. He very rarely interacted with you all, choosing to stay holed up in his dorm room, instead, that Taehyung had forced him to share with him. You suspected he was recovering from a recent heartbreak. It became evident when he started dating someone within a week of getting into college, only to confess it was a rebound when he got dumped. The whoring around that began after the whole debacle is yet to cease, though. Obviously. 

Hoseok comes from a really well-off family, and had brought along with him the four-bedroom apartment he currently resides in with Yoongi, Jimin and your boyfriend. His uncle gave it away to him, rent-free of course, and he proposed to share it with the rest of the guys. Seokjin and Yoongi were immediately on board, more than eager to leave the chaotic dorm life behind. Taehyung, contrarily, decided he wanted to get the whole college experience and refused to quit the dorms. Jimin, then, left the dorm he shared with Taehyung to move in with the elders.

You met Jungkook immediately after your graduation on the boy’s eighteenth birthday. He instantly struck you as a smart kid, really good at singing as well as art. Yoongi disclosed he wanted to be a music major in your college, and you tried to encourage Jungkook about it, but the guy could hardly even look at you. It was cute but also hilarious how much he was scared of Seokjin, and by principle, you.

You believe that is still true. Now that you think about it, you're pretty sure you haven’t seen Jungkook ever actually relax around the two of you.

“Noona?”

You blink, coming back to the present as Jimin calls out to you. You take a deep breath, the memories hitting you with tender emotions. All these people are really precious to you, aren’t they? The bunch of you really are a family, aren’t you?

A sad smile swims up to your face. You miss the boys.

When he calls again, you turn to look at Jimin, questioningly. 

“Please don’t be mad at hyung,” he slowly says, looking down at his lap. In this moment, he looks quite unlike the Jimin you are used to and reminds you of, instead, the one you’d first met. “He might lack tact, sometimes, but he really loves you a lot. You’re his whole world. Whatever it is that you are angry about, you should tell him about it. I don’t think he would be able to figure it out by himself.”

This, you agree with. “I’ll try, Jiminie.”

“We all miss you. Especially Hobi hyung and I,” he says with a lopsided excuse of a smile. 

You resist the urge to fluff his hair. Jimin and Hoseok have been like the younger brothers you never had. You miss them, too. 

He suddenly chuckles. "And Yoongi hyung hides it well, but I think he's the one that misses you the most. No one helps him roast Jin hyung quite like you do."

You roll your eyes. "Of course not. It's a waste for Yoongi to even try to find a better partner at roasting Jin."

You spot your apartment building and pull up to it. 

“I’ll try to talk to Jin as soon as I can, Jimin, I promise. Don't worry so much about it,” you say as you step out, patting the boy once on his head. "I miss you all, too."

You give a small wave and faint smile to him as he drives away.

tagging: @shrimpmsg​

note: so! a lil bit of backstory and the infamous halloween party - how we feelin’ so far? the next part is ~12k words, too, and i’ll post it next wednesday, wait around~ 😘💕

SECOND PART OUT NOW: read here!

© jimilter | 2021

[chilly-me-softly]

Fake Proposal • John Stones

I saw a video on instagram and got the idea but as usual I got carried away, writing like a 4k long piece so read it at your own risk.

-

"Ugh" John sighs letting himself down on the couch resting his head on your lap, one of your hands immediately going into his hair as you smile.

"Your mother again?"

"My mum again" he sighs before hiding his face in his hands and holding back a moan in his throat, "She's been breathing down my neck with the whole marriage thing. Please help me"

"How? It's not like you can pretend to have a girlfriend and propose" you state slightly but his eyes snap open staring at you.

"No" you thunder, "No John. Get that look off your face. No" you shake your head covering his eyes as he squirms managing to lock your hands between his.

"Please, please (Y/N) help me" he pleads and you're the one who has to try not to meet his gaze so you don't give in to that madness.

"They'd never believe us John, everyone knows we're friends"

"That's exactly why it might work (Y/N)!" he sits up abruptly, "if I do it with a random person it would be suspicious" his gaze is lost somewhere, his eyes move as if he's picturing everything and you can almost see the wheels of his brain in motion.

"And then how are you going to do that? Your mother wants a wedding, she won't be satisfied"

"I'll buy some time, she'll be less on my back at least for a while and then I'll think about it" he looks at you expectantly, he seems really determined even though he would never have thought such a thing until just now.

"Please (Y/N). I don't like fooling my mother like this either but if I hear again how I'm getting older and need to start a family I swear I won't answer for me anymore"

"Fine" you sigh closing your eyes, missing his surprised expression and then his big smile before he literally throws himself at you.

"John! John John John" you giggle trying to get him off you, "don't get into something bigger than you"

"I won't, don't worry"

-

Don't worry. Sure. He makes it easy.

John seemed to take it all lightly, just happy to get his mother and her demands off his back for a while. He'd booked a cabin in the mountains for a couple of days ready to spring into action as soon as possible, counting down the days just like kids waiting for Christmas Day to open their presents.

You must have been crazy to have agreed to help him with something like this, you kept repeating it by packing your suitcase or letting people know you wouldn't be home or waiting for him to pick you up. And then you had decided that if nothing you would enjoy that couple of days' holiday at his expense.

You look around to see if you've got everything before you leave, when John honks. He gets out of the car to help you put your bag in the boot as you close the front door, but it's only when you're both getting into the car and you've fastened your seatbelt that he leans in to leave a kiss on your cheek.

"What's all this sweetness Stonesy, are you afraid I'm going to say no?!" you tease him as he starts the car, shaking his head.

You take over the radio, spending the ride humming songs and complaining about not finding the right one and asking John if you're there.

"(Y/N) I swear, you're a pain in the ass" he sighs before turning right heading into a driveway.

"If you had told me where we were going I would have checked it out myself" you retort looking around as a few houses finally start to appear under your gaze.

"You really need to learn how to chill out" he sighs, "And anyway, we're here"

"I'm totally calm" you state getting out of the car slamming the door on purpose earning you a warning look. Men and their cars.

And you leave him to pick up the bags you brought while your eyes don't know what to look at first. The swing next to the door strikes you immediately, you've always wanted one but never had the space so you immediately rush onto it climbing the stairs waiting for your friend with a huge smile on your face.

"Come on in, let’s go pick out your room"

"I get to choose?" you ask rhetorically following him, being captivated at first glance by what's in front of you. The place is similar to all the ones you see in typical Christmas movies, wood seems to be the main material of the whole construction and the fire in the fireplace is already lit giving the room a pleasant warmth.

"Sure. But only if you're quick" one look and you're already running down the stairs trying to pull him by the shirt and not fall at the same time.

"Mine!" you flop down on the bed panting deciding to go straight for the farthest room in the dark, "go get my suitcase now"

"We're not engaged yet, you can't boss me around like that" he argues leaning against the doorframe sneering but you dismiss him with a wave of your hand.

"What if the other room is nicer?" he asks returning and placing your bag at the foot of the bed, you don't hint at moving from your comfortable spot.

"I like this one" you murmur clutching a pillow to your chest.

"Yeah but what if the other one's prettier?!" his tone blatantly mocking as you roll your eyes giving in to curiosity, complaining loudly as you get up and make your way to the other room.

You open the door thinking you're going to find who knows what, but you find that it's a copy of the room you just left. And his bags are already there so he knew that, that bastard.

"But they're identical" you murmur confused, looking around for a sign of diversity but not finding it. "John! They're the same!" you complain turning to him and hitting him with an open palm on the arm receiving only laughter from him.

"Stop teasing me"

"Sorry sorry. I couldn't help myself"

"Keep laughing, I'll have fun later John Stones" you try to scare him but the smile on his face that doesn't hint at disappearing tells you that you failed in your intent, making you roll your eyes.

-

The first of the two nights you spend there goes by without a problem, well at least after you get familiar with the place and calm your brain because not all the noises you heard were due to thieves. And the next morning you and John have breakfast still sleepy before he proposes you to take a tour around there, the day before you had gone to the city to fill the fridge and you had stayed there and it didn't seem right to spend days away from the city without really spending days away from the city.

After getting ready, you take a path not far from the house and following the various signs along the way, you find yourself in a place that is stunning to say the least. You find yourself on a bridge built over a river, on one side of which there is a small waterfall, creating a unique and relaxing atmosphere.

"You don't want to do this now do you?"

"Ssh you have to look natural" he leaves a light kiss on your cheek before throwing a sideways glance and you call on all your strength not to follow his gaze, pretty sure you'd run into some guy intent on filming the moment.

"Now I'm going to pretend to tell you something cheesy so pretend to get emotional" he starts gesturing and you can't hold back the giggle that escapes your lips as he drops to his knees.

"(Y/N)" he gives you a knowing look and you cover your mouth with your hand trying to hide that smile, from a distance it will look like you're really excited instead.

"Okay so... I need to spend some time like this. It's uncomfortable and um blah blah blah will you marry me?" John starts ranting taking a small box from his jacket pocket.

"You didn't really buy a ring" you mutter shocked when he opens the small box, the surprise completely true at that moment at seeing that item.

"Are you going to hurry up and say yes? My knee is crying out for mercy" he presses you gritting his teeth as you then quickly nod and he gets back to his feet holding you close to him.

"You could have at least prepared a speech" you murmur in his ear tugging at his hair slightly as he laughs, pulling away to put the ring on your finger. His hands actually shaking as he does so and then he draws you to him unexpectedly, connecting your lips with his.

-

"I knew I'd find you here" you smile turning your head towards John, him handing you a cup of hot chocolate sitting next to you on the swing while you adjust the large blanket over your shoulders even around his as you can.

"What does your mum say?" you sigh blowing on that steaming drink looking ahead of you.

"See for yourself" he unlocks his phone quickly opening the conversation with his mother.

'Mum I did it' he had texted sending a picture of him kneeling in front of you and you hugging then.

'Johnny! Omg yes!!!!' 'Wait... is that (Y/N)?' 'I knew it' is mum's frantic reply making you giggle as he pulls back his phone not letting you see anything else.

"I'm glad she likes me" you giggle taking a sip of chocolate.

"She's always liked you" he retorts and silence falls between you two for a moment before he sighs.

"(Y/N) if you're upset about that kiss, I'm sorry"

"It's alright John, it was an act" you reach out to set the mug down, "after all which proposal is believable without a kiss" you joke elbowing him in the side as he sighs passing his arm around your shoulders pulling you to him. Both of you not so sure about it.

-

"I believe this is yours" you murmur taking off the ring and handing it to him, for some reason you didn't manage to give it back to him either the night before or over the course of that day and now that he's about to leave after driving you home it's your chance. It's now or never. But he is quick to shake his head and tighten that object in your hand. "No, keep it... in case my mother comes to visit"

"Don't" you point your finger at him making the most threatening face you have triggering his laughter. "I can't keep my mother at bay"

"John"

"(Y/N) listen, it's just a scenario. It's not going to happen"

"You can't be sure of that"

And in fact a few days later, when you had finally decided to go out grocery shopping, you opened the door and found the woman in front of you. The surprise had been such that you stood open-mouthed in front of her for a few moments before you shook yourself and made her come in.

"Were you going out dear?" she asks you going to sit on the sofa casually as if she was coming to your house every day.

"Just a bit of groceries, I can go later" you had dismissed it removing your jacket and sending a panicked message quickly 'I'm going to kill you!!!'

"Good" the woman looks around before congratulating you on the house, to which you reply embarrassed.

"Oh don't be embarrassed (Y/N), we're going to be a family soon after all" she states and you clear your throat, "Can I get you anything, some water or tea...?"

"A glass of cold water thank you" you apologise then and quickly go to the kitchen opening the fridge and hiding behind it you take the phone back into your hand.

'John Stones!!!' 'Your mother is here!' 'I'm going to kill you'

John doesn't even view the texts and you can't stand there forever waiting so you grab the water jug and take it to the woman.

"I don't want to take up so much of your time, you might be wondering why I'm here" the woman smiles after taking a sip.

"Um I can guess" you hide your nervousness around your glass, struggling however to down a sip of water.

"I assure you I'm not always this nosy" yeah right, "but with John I worry maybe a little too much" you smile at the woman's bluntness, taking time to observe her better you can see how much she actually looks like John.

"I never know how to handle him, he's always been so secretive about everything and I've always tried to push him because I want what's best for him" you don't know if you read right into it but it sounds as if the woman is trying to apologise for something. And you open your mouth to say something but she beats you to it.  

"You've been friends for a long time, I should have seen it coming" you gasp with a suddenly blank mind, internally screaming at yourself to get yourself back into sense so you don't look even more hopeless. But apparently the woman is more focused on something else and doesn't notice your obvious discomfort.

You follow her gaze, caught by a photo of you and John from a few years earlier. You're not fond of pictures of yourself around the house, where everyone can have access to your memories, but John had given you the frame begging you to put it there, so you had pleased him.

"Can I just ask how long you've been together?"

"I don't know" you answer without thinking before widening your eyes trying to make up for it, "I mean... there was no specific date. It just happened I guess"

"I really should have seen it coming" for a moment it's as if she's lost in thought, shaking her head in disbelief, "there isn't a day we don't end up talking about you and he's always so fidgety when it comes to you"

"Really?" you ask surprised straightening up with your back as your phone vibrates but you don't feel the need to pick it up.

"Yeah, and he always has a smile on his face when it comes to you"

"John smiles all the time, I don't think that can be considered a one-off"

"Yeah but there's ways and means of smiling. It reaches his eyes"

-

"What happened? I was at practice I just saw the texts. I'm so sorry (Y/N), I'm going to have a good talk with her" John speaks sharply as soon as you pick up the phone and you have to raise your voice a little to make yourself heard and shut him up.

"It's okay John" you state around a spoonful of ice cream, the container in front of you.

"I'm sorry (Y/N) I swear, that woman crossed every line" he mutters and you can imagine his serious expression, his eyes a little darker than usual and half-closed, his nostrils flared.

"John no" you stick your spoon into the ice cream sighing, "don't do anything hasty, just calm down. Where are you? Are you driving now?"

From the other end of the phone only silence comes before you hear a sigh, "I'm on the road"

"Come to my place okay?"

The drive hadn't been that long to your house so you can still sense the annoyance in his figure and his gaze as he walks in and heads into the kitchen immediately eyeing the box on the counter.

"Why are you so annoyed?! Where's the carefree Stonesy from the last few days?" he looks around before stealing the spoon from your hands and taking some of that ice cream after sitting down on the counter.

"And why aren't you in full hysterics?" he retorts taking another spoonful of ice cream as you roll your eyes.

"I was at first, I wanted to kill you if you remember, but then we talked" you walk over to him taking the bowl out of his hands as he groans trying to take it back.

"If you're hungry I can make you something"

"That is fine"

"I don't think it's good for you" you put the lid on before setting the box down in the freezer before turning to him again, seeing him with his arms crossed giving you a dirty look. You do the same raising an eyebrow, you've become an expert at holding up his game over the years.

"What did she say to you?" he gives up shortly after relaxing his figure by swinging his legs, "she didn't treat you badly did she? She can be a bit-"

"Nosy? I noticed that" you shake your head opening the fridge just to do something as he pushes on. "Well?"

"Hmm? Nothing, I guess deep down she came to apologise because she didn't know we were together and apparently she's been pushing you into a lot of random girls' arms lately and stuff" you gesture shrugging and closing the door, giving him just a sidelong glance.

"Are you sure? There's nothing more?" John checks wary, it's your apparent calm and the bowl of ice cream you were practically devouring that put him on his toes. He'd practically been able to feel your panic through those texts you'd sent him and then he sees you and you seem to be a different person.

"You know me John, if there had been anything else or she had disrespected me in any way I certainly wouldn't have kept it to myself" you try to sound as calm as possible but your playing with that ring, taking it off and putting it back on, gives you away.

"Come on say it" he sighs, lowering his gaze to his shoes for a moment as you raise an eyebrow. "What?"

"Just say it"

"John I don't know what you're talking about"

"I told you. Just say it" and he looks like he's ready to be hit just as if you were going to do it with a punch or something. But you just sigh as you move closer to him, his ankles linking lightly to your legs seeking contact.

"How long are you going to keep this up? Because I'm with you, I'm in now and I'm going to keep playing along. But your mother is just that, an eccentric mother only concerned about her son"

"So if we actually get married..." he leans his head slightly to the side smiling innocently as you smack him on the forehead rolling your eyes.

"Did you hit your head lately? Did you even hear what I said?"

"You said you would like to be with me"

"I said your mother is a good person, and she doesn't deserve this" you retort without giving your brain time to process what he's telling you.

"But if you really think about it, it would be perfect. I'd solve all my problems by not turning out as a liar and you'd have me"

"Did you just imply that I can't get a boyfriend in a normal way? I hope not"

"Sorry, I didn't mean that" he chuckles at your threatening expression pulling you to him and leaving a kiss in your hair.

His gaze is lost somewhere, he's so easily distracted you almost read surprise in his eyes when he lowers his head and realises you're still there. "John, what's going on with you mh?"

"I don't know. I guess I'm starting to really think about what my mom says. And that she's right. When football ends, what will I have left? What's wrong with me? Why couldn't I find anyone?"

"Hey no John listen to me carefully now. At thirty you may be considered old in your profession but I can assure you that for the rest of us life begins at that age" you take his face in your hands gently stroking his cheeks with your thumbs making sure he sees and hears you above all, "you will have all the time in the world to find someone if you want to, to start a family and come to terms with the fact that you are getting older and your hair is getting white"

"Never" he quickly retorts, making you giggle, "I'll never have white hair"

"We'll see... if you can keep those curls, you'll be trouble even when you're old"

"Oh wow so you think I'll make it to eighty still on my own?!" he jokes strengthening his grip on your legs and moving forward slightly.

"Eighty? You have very high expectations for your life" you downplay by moving your arms along his neck.

"Aah what would I do without you" he sighs happily holding you close to him again, "Promise you'll always be by my side?"

At your non-response, his grip becomes more pronounced literally crushing your face into his chest. "Promise me"

"I promise. I promise" you giggle making his chest vibrate with your laughter as well. Quite often you're the one with the identity crisis and John has to play the therapist, calming you down and reminding you to get your feet down on the ground. But often the roles are reversed and you're the one putting the boy's pieces back together, happy that all those years of friendship have created a relationship where he's not afraid to be fragile and let himself be fixed.

"You'll always have me" you remember him in his arms, and when you pull away to let him know with your gaze too, he's already there looking at you. You see his face move closer to yours and instinctively you step back.

"Please I need to know"

"Know what?" his tone is almost a plea while there is confusion and nervousness in yours.

"If what I'm feeling inside is true" he knows you well by now and he can catch your eyes widening in surprise for a split second, a reaction that to unfamiliar eyes might not have happened.

"Can I kiss you?" you nod but you're already closing your eyes waiting for his lips to touch yours again.

-

"What are you doing?!" you ask giggling to yours and John's brother upon seeing the two of them exchanging some money.

"He bet fifty bucks your engagement was fake. And he lost" your brother is obviously very happy to have earned something in that whole thing, your brother-in-law is not so happy though.

"You bet on us?!" John asks incredulously at your side, an arm around your waist.

"Is that so unbelievable?" you hide your smile in the glass in your hand.

"You don't know John if you ask a question like that"

"Eh I can assure you I know him quite well" you two exchange a look of understanding as your brothers pretend to vomit. And you leave them arguing about the validity of that bet, turning away from everyone to have a moment alone in the garden of that facility that hosts you.  

"Are we ever going to tell them the truth?"

"Who, to those two? Nah my brother deserves it"

"But mine doesn't" you quickly retort making John chuckle, "I'm sure we can find a way to take them off him"

"How?" you ask interested as he leaves a kiss on one cheek before moving closer to your ear, "We can steeal them"

"John Stones! You're such a bad influence on me... Let's do this" you rise up on your toes to search for his lips. "Anyway, your family is so damn crazy, nothing surprises me anymore"

"You're not completely normal either admit it"

"Hmm maybe you're right. I must have been pretty crazy that day to going along with you"

"Just that day?" he teases earning himself a hit on the arm before he draws you back to him to kiss you.

"I can't believe we actually got married" he sighs connecting your foreheads gently.

"Who knew my happy ending was always right in front of me"

"Sometimes I think if it wasn't for my mom we'd still be wandering around looking for someone"

"You mean your mother would still be introducing you to some girl"

"Are you jealous?" John smiles cheeky as you do the same. "Oh you know there's this little thing called a divorce"

"Oh no. No no no no, not now so many things seem to make sense. Don't even think about it" he shakes his head energetically tightening his grip on your waist as you laugh, running your ringed hand through his hair.

"I love you John Stones"

"I love you (Y/N) Stones"

[some-kindofgnome]

Kinktober #24: Mine: Katsuki Bakugou

On the way home from a night out with Bakugou, you realize that things may not have gone as smoothly as you’d hoped. 

Characters: Katsuki Bakugou x f!Reader

Warnings: smut (18+ please!) aged-up characters, jealous!bakugou, rough sex, rough oral sex (both m and f-receiving), cum swallowing, marathon fucking, spanking, choking if you squint, a little aftercare

Notes: This is f i l t h y. And kind of brutal, to be honest. But if anyone’s going to be an absolute animal in bed, it’s Bakugou when he’s feeling jealous. 

It’s a little more proofread than usual. And kind of on the longish side (~3.5k), so strap in.

You’re welcome? I think? 

Kinktober Masterlist

It’s not until you’re halfway home that you realize something’s up.

Another Friday night, another agency gala. Bakugou hates black tie until you remind him how good he looks in a suit, and he loves to see you in those body-hugging silk dresses as often as possible, so he’s usually happy to suck it up for the occasion.

He’s such a misanthrope that you weren’t even surprised when he tugged you out of there in a hurry, whisking you into the car and driving off in sullen silence.

You’ve been trying to make conversation all the way home- it was nice to see Denki again, I hear Kiri’s teaching at UA these days, did you know Iida’s going back for his Master’s degree- but every time you mention a name from his past, Bakugou’s shoulders draw up tighter around his ears.

Fair enough.

You keep the radio low and distract yourself with the passing downtown lights. You feign serenity, but inside your mind is coming to pieces. If Bakugou’s annoyed at something- comically, playfully, extravagantly annoyed- he’s got road rage like nothing you’ve ever seen. But tonight, he pulls silently up to each red light. Jaw set. Crimson eyes steady on the road.

Something’s really up with him tonight.

He turns smoothly into your underground garage, pulling the car into his parking spot and killing the engine. He shoots you one smouldering, solid glare, then gets out of the car and slams the door nearly hard enough to dent it.

“Baby?” Your voice is tiny as it echoes across the concrete garage, and you shuffle to catch up with him in your narrow skirt and heels. As he pushes open the heavy glass door and you follow him into the elevator bay, your patience narrows.

“Okay,” you sigh, folding your arms over your chest. “You’ve had your time to pout. You’ve made it clear, you’re mad at me. So, are you going to tell me what I did, or do I have to figure that part out for myself?”

The doors roll open. Bakugou grabs your wrist.

He tugs you into the elevator and slams you against the wall so fast you see spots in the bright fluorescent lights over your head. Before you can even process the change in his character, he’s pressed his whole torso along yours, pinning you to the cool granite wall and crushing his mouth on yours.

You kind of hate how into it you are.

You let him kiss you for a minute, but you’re not backing down from this fight. Bakugou’s never been good at communication. You’re working on it. There’s no way you’re letting this one slide.

“Katsuki,” you bark, jerking your face harshly to one side and planting your hands on his shoulders. He gives a vicious snarl, but he’s not forcing you to kiss him.

“Stop it,” you hiss. “If something’s wrong, tell me.”

“You mean you really haven’t figured it out by now?” His voice is low and gravelly and edged by wildness. It’s clear he’s been barely holding on to his temper all the way home.

“No. I haven’t.” The elevator starts to move. It’s a tall building- and it’s a long way up to the penthouse.

“Course you didn’t,” he grunts, still pinning you hard. He draws his mouth along the edge of your jaw. “Shoulda known you wouldn’t notice the way they were all lookin’ at you.”

“Who?”

His temper cracks again and he snarls, shoving you more firmly against the wall again. One hand slides up your chest and his fingers grip tightly at your shoulder, teasing at the hollow of your throat.

Oh.

So it’s gonna be like that.

“Everyone,” he hisses. “Kirishima. Denki. Everyone. You wore that tight little fuckin’ dress and they couldn’t keep their eyes off you.”

“Katsuki,” you croon low and smooth, even though you know you’re gonna regret it. “don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

The palm that teased at your throat closes around it now, using its gentle grip to push your head against the wall. He knows exactly how hard to squeeze to get a rise out of you. And he squeezes.

“Don’t.”

He’s warning you, but you’re too relieved to know that you never actually did anything wrong. This is just another one of Bakugou’s temper tantrums that you’re going to benefit from.

“You are,” you hiss, grinning wider. “Jealous of your old classmates? C’mon, baby, you know better than that.”

“Shut up.”

His mouth covers yours again. His thumb brushes over the flutter of your pulse point as he licks into your mouth, biting down hard and sucking at your lower lip.

The elevator chimes. Before the doors can roll open, he stoops and grabs you by the thighs. He slings you over his shoulder and straightens easily, delivering a harsh slap to your ass.

“Katsuki!” You squirm over his shoulder, beating at the back of his coat as your face goes hot. There are two apartments on this floor, and the chances that one of your very respectable neighbours is standing in the hallway aren’t zero.

Smack.

Another blow, to the other cheek this time, and you go still.

“Quit strugglin’,” Bakugou barks, “or I’ll drop you on your head.”

He shifts your weight easily into one arm, digging into his pants pocket and producing his key. Deftly, he unlocks the door to your condo and pushes it in with his shoulder. As soon as he kicks the door shut behind him, he sets you on your feet.

Before you can scold him for your burning cheeks, he shoves both hands under the edges of your coat, wedging it off your shoulders.

“C’mere,” he snarls. He slides one hand down your back, between the wool and the silk, and palms the swell of your ass. Your coat hits the floor in a swath of black tweed and then he’s stooping again to pick you up, forcing your thighs apart around his hips. The smirk that decorates his features is vicious. His cheeks have gone pink.

You’re a sucker for him when he gets like this.

“Listen to me.” He sets you on the kitchen counter and steps up between your thighs, shoving your long skirt up and sideways around its high slit. “I am not. Jealous. But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re fuckin’ mine, okay?”

“You’d think the fact that we’re-hmmmph.”

He kisses you again before you get to finish your sentence, then rips himself from your lips. He tugs your body closer by the hips and buries his face in the crook of your shoulder, nipping and sucking hard at the skin there in his best attempt at leaving a mark. All the while, his fingers fumble with the straps on your dress, slipping them off your shoulders.

He wraps his hands in the silk bodice and tugs. Hard. One of the straps snaps over your upper arm as he shoves your dress down around your waist, exposing your chest.

“Baby,” you whine, but you know he’ll make it up to you later.

“All fuckin’ mine,” he growls again, slipping his rough palms over your breasts and squeezing them together. “Gonna make you feel it, sweetness.”

He attacks your collarbones and breasts, leaving mark after mark as his teeth and tongue lave over your skin. When he’s had enough, he gets down on his knees in front of the counter and curls his fingers into your underwear, tearing it clean off your body.

“Katsuki!” You grab him by the top of the head, attempting to push him away by his hair.

“You shouldn’t wear such flimsy shit, if you don’t want me to break it,” he chuckles, already biting up the inside of your thigh.

“Tell me,” he mumbles, tugging you right to the edge of the counter and bracing your thighs in both hands. “Can Shitty Hair make you scream like this?”

He dives into your pussy, plunging his tongue straight into your tight heat and making you shudder and moan. You can’t help but bend to his whim- he knows your body better than his own, and he’s not shy about showing it off.

Bakugou’s desperate, tongue-fucking you with reckless abandon. He swirls messy saliva around the tender nub of your already-swollen clit. Sometimes he’s patient, working you to the edge slowly, but tonight he forces pleasure into you, brutal and unrelenting.

You live for it.

“Katsuki,” you whine, raking your fingers through his unruly hair, “baby, please, oh, fuck!”

Your first orgasm hits you mercilessly, and you cum with a deep cry of pleasure as your heels draw up his back. You’re still wearing your shoes- pretty, strappy sandals that drive him crazy. Even crazier, when they’re digging into his flesh like they are now.

“That’s it,” he growls, drawing back from you all slicked-up and wild-eyed. His lips are flushed deep from gorging himself on you, and he wipes the back of his mouth with a silk shirtsleeve as he gets to his feet, shrugging impatiently out of his suit jacket.

“God, fuck,” you sigh. You reach for him, but he grabs you again, lifting you onto his hips. This time he’s hard, and you can feel it twitching against the inside of your thigh, heated and ready.

“I’m not finished with you yet.”

This time, he makes it as far as the sofa before he flops into the cushions, dragging you into his lap. You straddle him eagerly and lean forward against his chest, the fabric of your dress still bunching around your waist and hips. You grab him by the jaw and kiss away the lingering remnants of your lipstick while he palms your ass and grinds the stiff, pressed wool of his crotch and his straining cock shamelessly against you.

For an instant, you sense control. And he lets you enjoy it. Slowly he lifts his hands to your back, smoothing the fabric of your dress with one palm so he can grasp its zipper and slide it open with the other.

As soon as he breaks from your mouth to lift the fabric over your head, you know what you want to do with your reins.

“Where’r you goin’?” He scolds, watching you draw back from his lap. His crimson gaze is clouded with lust. But his jaw is still tight, frustration licking at his body like flames.

“Not far.”

You drop to your knees in front of him. Tug his shirt roughly out of his pants and slide your fingers underneath it to find his fly.

He chuckles, low and feral, smoothing a hand through what’s left of your hairstyle for the night.

“That’s my girl,” he chides. “Show me who you belong to.”

The prospect strikes a nerve of want somewhere deep inside you. You dig your hands into the folds of his undershorts, wrapping your hands around the hot silk of his erection and pulling it into the open.

It’s impossible for you to pretend that Bakugou doesn’t have the most perfect dick you’ve ever seen. When he’s hard like this, it’s pink and flushed and drooling slick precum. It’s thick and soft and curving up toward his belly. It’s like he’s made for you. You fit together like the two halves of a lock. Sculpted for each other, molded out of one another.

And he loves it when you suck him off.

You give the tip of his twitching cock a bare little lick and his fingers twist, tightening threateningly in your hair.

“Don’t tease me, sweetness,” he snarls, “or I’ll make you choke on it.”

He’s probably going to do that anyway.

You brace your hands on his thighs and straighten up, sucking his tender tip into your mouth. You lave your tongue over it, and he bristles, watching you carefully with a tight-lipped groan.

It’s not long before you settle into a rhythm, sucking him down messily while your right hand picks up the slack. He’s grabbing you by the hair and staying tense. His thighs are rock hard on either side of you.

You take him into your throat and stay there, and he breaks.

“Aw, fuck,” he growls. His head falls back and he grabs your head with his other hand, too. His hips buck into your throat and you gag, spitting messily around his shaft as he starts to fuck your throat in earnest.

The sounds that erupt from the both of you are obscene. You’re drooling all over his suit pants, but his control is nowhere to be found. And when you grab his balls and squeeze his spine goes concave. He throws his head back. He howls.

“Fuck!” His hips stutter hard, but he doesn’t stop. Neither do you.

“Aw, fuck, sweetness,” he growls. “Fuck. Fuck. Look at you, chokin’ on my dick. Look at you, taking it so fuckin’ good. I’m gonna cum so fuckin’ hard down your throat. I’m gonna make you taste me, baby, so close. Fuck, oh, fuck, oh-“

His babbling ceases as the spring in his body is released. It’s like all his nerves go inside out for a second. You grab his thighs as hard as you can and squeeze while he ruts into your face and pumps his load right down your throat.

When he’s finished, you draw your mouth carefully from his twitching dick. You half-expect to see him sprawled across the couch completely spent, but before you can even get a look at his face, he grabs you all over again. His voice is sandpaper in your ear.

“’M takin’ you to bed. Now.”

You’re already tender, but you’re ready for more. You live for this; when he gets too wild to speak, too crazy to stop. Testing the limits of your stamina is something that will never get boring.

Especially not when you’ve got Bakugou on the other end.

He lays you down against the pillows and flips you onto your belly.

“Stay put.”

He steps back, shucking himself out of his pants and undershorts. He practically tears away his shirt and tie. He doesn’t come back to you until he’s naked. When he does, he drags you up onto your knees and keeps your face pushed into the pillows.

“There you go,” he mutters. “So fuckin’ sweet for me, baby. I’m gonna fuck you so good, you know that? Gonna fuck you so good they’ll hear you screamin’ back at the party.”

You’re gonna have to ask Kirishima to look at you like that more often.

He bends behind you and seals his mouth over your pussy, laving his tongue over your folds again. His shoulder bobs against your ass and you can tell he’s stroking himself- encouraging his spent flesh to rise to the occasion.

The taste of you always spurs him on.

When he’s ready, he pulls abruptly away and lines the tip of his cock up with your slick folds. He grabs the curve of your ass hard with one hand. Gives it a hard smack. It’s already stinging from his rough treatment earlier, but you’re sure he’s not finished with it.

“You gonna tell me who you belong to?” He taps the tip of his cock against your clit, teasing you with the heated flesh. You want it so bad by now that it aches, and you turn your head to gasp for breath as you grip hard at the sheets.

“I never belonged to anyone else,” you plead softly. He doesn’t like that answer and punctuates his disappointment with another hard slap to your ass. He draws a cry from you. You’re starting to lose yourself.

“Try again.”

“Please,” you sob, wiggling your hips against his. He leans back, keeping himself from you.

“Who. Do you. Belong. To?”

“You.”

The answer clicks as your need grows to unbearable levels. You say it like a prayer. Like a plea for mercy.

Bakugou delivers.

“That’s right. You’re mine, sweetness. You hear me? Mine. All mine.”

He sinks into you on the last syllable and his voice turns to jelly. His thighs are strong and firm as they bump against yours. He bottoms out. Gives you a breath to adjust to the stretch.

Then he fucks. Hard.

He grabs you by the hips and slams himself deep into your pussy, quickly settling into a brutal rhythm that leaves his thighs slapping hard against the curve of your ass. He punctuates every other stroke with a hard smack to your ass, too, leaving you raw and stinging.

It’s good. It’s so good this way. He bends over to bring his chest close to yours as he fucks you hard and fast, growling possessively in your ear. He snatches you by the hair when you try to lift your head, shoving your face back into the pillows and muffling your deep cries of pleasure.

Every hard thrust of his cock seems to reverberate through your entire body. At this angle, his tip nudges your cervix like a panic button. It sends shockwaves of pleasure over every nerve.

“That’s right,” he’s still babbling above you, breathless and panting, but forcing the words out anyway. “That’s right, sweetness, you’re fuckin’ mine. Nobody does this to you but me, baby, nobody. Gonna fuck you ‘till you scream. Gonna fuck you till you beg me to stop. Gonna fill you with so much of my fuckin’ cum, you’ll never forget who you belong to.”

Your climax draws closer by the moment. You’re trying to warn him, but he’s got you pinned fast. The pleasure looms inevitably over you, and you can’t stop the crest of the wave before it crashes over your trembling form.

You cum hard around him, your muscles squeezing and fluttering around his pounding cock. He gives a shout of surprise and fucks you double-time through your climax. As your high retreats he finds his, sliding an arm around your hips and sliding balls-deep before pleasure erupts along his spine and he pumps you full of slick cum.

When it’s over, he flips you onto your back. He pushes his cock inside you again despite your soft whines of sensation, pumping slowly in and out of you and watching the way his cum spills over as he fills you all over again.

“You got one more in you?” He pants.

“Baby,” you plead, overstimulated and spent. He slides his hands up your ribcage, thumbing your tight nipples.

“C’mon, sweetness. You can handle it. I know you got it in you.”

“One more,” you pant. You stretch your cramping legs out around his hips, toeing each one of your heels off behind you. He slides his palms all the way up your shoulders and down your arms, finding your wrists and pinning them tightly over your head.

“God damn,” he grunts, looking you over. Marred with the marks his teeth printed across your skin. Mottled with bruises already forming on your hips, your thighs, your throat.

“Look at you,” he purrs. He shifts your wrists into one hand and strokes the fingertips of his other over the bruises on your throat. He grins wickedly.

“Better make those worth your while.”

His palm lowers against your throat as his hips pick up speed again. He fucks you hard into the mattress beneath you. The ache in your hips is exacerbated by the sudden friction, but it’s cooled by the warm slick of his cum inside you.

Neither of you last long this time.

Your third orgasm of the night is tight and desperate, and you come down from your high shaking and straining against his hold.

“Not gonna… can’t hold on,” he warns. “Fuck, sweetness, fuck, baby, fuuuuuck-“

He collapses onto you as he cums, burying his hips into the apex of your thighs and pushing another fresh load into your belly. His cock stirs inside you as he shudders and finally goes soft against you. Spent at long last.

When he pulls his softening dick from your body, you’re well past overstimulated.

He’s fucked his temper out on you.

“Alright,” he rasps. “You’re okay, sweetness. C’mere.”

He rolls onto his side and settles a hand over your belly, rubbing slow and gentle as he peppers kisses along your shoulder. He gives your hand a squeeze and rolls out of bed, snagging his undershorts from the floor and climbing into them.

He goes quiet, when it’s time to take care of you. Sometimes you wonder if he feels guilty about using you like this. But you’ve talked about it. You stop him when you’ve had enough. You’re good at that.

He likes that you’re not afraid to stand up to him.

Bakugou wraps you in a blanket from the bed and carries you out to the living room, depositing you on the couch. He can keep an eye on you easily as he heads to the kitchen to get you a drink. It’s important to you that he stays close when you need him like this.

He kneels in front of you and slips his fingers under your heavy chin.

“Here we go, baby. C’mon. Drink it.”

He tilts a glass of cool tap water against your lips and you raise a hand to steady it, drinking down a few, steady gulps. You’re heavy and sex-drunk and sleepy, warming his bitter heart with the expressions that cross your hazy face.

“That’s it.”

He slides beneath you and pulls you-blanket and all- into his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around you. Cradling your body with his. He leans down and settles his forehead over yours. His eyelashes brush your cheek. He lets out a deep, heavy sigh.

“You’re mine,” he mumbles to you, but it takes on a different meaning altogether when he says it like this. You’re mine, he’s telling you, and I’m gonna take care of you.

He finds your hand and brushes his thumb over the diamond ring that rests there. In truth, that’s all the proof he needs that you’ve signed up for him.

All of him.

[loving-all-for-loki]

May I request a little something? Reader is an employee at the compound and is super shy.. and gets teased by some of the other agents relentlessly. One of the male agents gets kind of aggressive to her because she’s walking through the training area and he starts shoving her saying how she doesn’t belong. But not realizing why she’s there; she’s meeting Loki for a lunch date and he sees someone unworthy treating his lover like trash. If you don’t mind 🥺

A/N: Omg, totally, I had so much trouble figuring out which Avenger would be this mean, but also I feel like Steve would go to the gym to let off some angry steam so I went with him. Two things: The beginning is slow so I apologize and second, I did change lunch date to dinner for continuity. <3 It might seem a bit chunky because I did write some of this last night while I was tired, so I'm sorry if the quality isn’t the greatest.

Also, you're my first request, this notification made me very happy. Request as much as you want :)

You Belong

Loki x reader

Word count: 2201

Warnings: small mention of violence, mean!Steve, Loki fluff

Y/D/N - your dog’s name

It’s not like you hate working at the tower. In fact, it’s the best job you’ve gotten in a year considering you’ve been doing retail work for six years, but as soon as you heard about an opening at the Stark Tower, you resigned and applied.

Simple enough, your job includes watching security cameras and sitting at a desk. Sure, you’re a receptionist, but not much happens so you usually go on your phone and smile at the Avengers as they enter the building. You’re not complaining since you’re not the most outgoing person and the gods know what would happen if you were to have to interact with any of the Avengers (probably you spilling coffee on them or stumbling over your words). Most people don’t believe you when you tell them your job, but after a couple of your friends brought you lunch and crossed paths with the heroes, they stopped teasing you.

You’ve always admired the heroes. Steve, Captain America. You were told stories about him when growing up so when news broke out that he was alive, you became a fanatic. Then came along Tony Stark who famously announced his status as Iron Man and then the presence of an actual god, aka Thor.

They’ve been okay with you in the past. You thought that because they were Earth’s Mightiest heroes that they’d be nice to you, but they often shit all over you. You’ve attempted to say hi to them before, but you get mixed reactions every time.

“Good morning Clint.” … .“Even my deafness can’t drown out your annoying voice.”

“Good afternoon Thor.” …. “Earthling.”

“Mr. Rogers, there’s a package for-” … . “just send it to the floor. No need for conversation.”

Bucky, who is known to most of the world as the quiet boy, will wave and say hi every so often. You think he only likes you only because of your quiet nature, not freaking out over them or treating them like gods. The other Avengers ignore your gestures. Most of the people in the building will get ignored if they attempt to talk to any of them, or if they make the mistake and attempt to approach Tony Stark who will insult them then demand them to pick up his dry cleaning. You’ve been on the wrong end of his antics before, but it’s amusing to watch him mess with people who don’t know not to talk to him.

The attack on New York was the most memorable day, not because of the debut of the Avengers, but because of the introduction of Loki. Everyone was scared, not knowing what his intentions were until the creatures came. You remember working that day at the Tower when they came flooding down. Windows broke and people were going crazy.

Like the idiot you are, you just hid under the desk and hoped for the best. You could hear the screams and echoes of crying around you. It felt like hours before they were gone. Finally gaining the strength to come out of hiding, you found the US army in the building with Loki in handcuffs. You got a good look at the god before he made eye contact with you.

Ten seconds felt like ten minutes as the two of you stared at each other. You couldn’t tell his facial expression due to the muzzle like thing over his face, but the way he looked at you made butterflies in your stomach. You couldn’t decide if he scared you or intrigued you. He sized you up, either in case he needed to fight you or he was checking you out. Then came more action.

There were double agents then Loki was gone. You weren’t even sure what to make of it. Months went by without the sight or even talk of Loki. Life went by like normal with the Avengers coming and going and your coworkers bitching about something that you didn’t concern yourself with.

Loki showed up one day out of the blue. Most people got nervous, but you felt the same feeling as the first time you saw him. You couldn’t even give him the same smile or wave as the others for a day or two, not wanting to look stupid in front of the powerful god. Picking up bits and pieces from eavesdropping on Mr. Stark, you found out Loki was staying with the avengers for a while as punishment for New York.

The thought of having to see the black haired god every day made you excited. There was something about him that was different from the rest. Maybe it was his power, or confidence, or even the way that he dressed. After a while, you mustered up the strength to wave to him as he entered the building, which shocked him the first time. He politely waved back, but then it became a habit. Then him buying you a coffee became a habit.

The first time you saw him drop coffee off by you was thrilling. You two became more than what you had with the other Avengers, every so often he’d even stop and talk to you for a moment. He learned your name, dog’s name, even your grandmothers. Your coworkers were stunned by the interactions, given the fact that you’ve never talked to any of them.

“Y/N.”

You look up to see the god saunter over you with a coffee in hand, Thor following close behind.

“I was wondering something.”

“Ask away.”

“Do you have a boyfriend, by any chance?”

“Of course she doesn’t. Have you seen… her?” Thor teases

“Go away, you lug.”

Thor rolls his eyes at Loki as he walks away, watching you two with a suspicious eye.

“I’m sorry for my oaf brother.”

“You don’t have to apologize. The Avengers see me as a burden.”

“That’s not right. You’ve been nothing but helpful, at least sine we’ve known each other.”

“I’m glad someone feels that way.”

“Anyways, you didn’t answer my question. Do you have a boyfriend?”

You felt the heat in your cheeks as he asked the question and hoped Loki doesn’t see your embarrassed rosy tint. Although you try to not let the heroes get to you, Thor is right. You have no chance of getting a boyfriend.

“I’m not… I uh.. No, I guess. No, I don’t.”

“Wonderful, so I take it you have no plans tonight?”

“Uh, no, I don’t.”

“Perfect. Meet me in the Avenger’s living quarters at seven. Wear something nice.”

Loki’s words linger in your head all day until you’re in your bedroom picking out something to wear. You know Loki, he’s flashy, bold. Nothing you own is flashy or bold enough to match him, but he also said something nice so is flashy and bold the way to go? You let out a frustrated sigh when your dog comes to the sound. He starts licking your face, sending you into a laughing frenzy.

“I know, Y/D/N, you make things better sometimes.”

You pet him for another moment before returning to the current dilemma. Searching through your closet, you pick out a simple black truffle dress knowing black will work for any occasion. You settle on some gold earrings and red lipstick. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you pray to whatever god that you’re not overdoing or overthinking the situation.

The night floods over New York as you drive to the Avengers tower. Every possible circumstance flows through your head. Good ones like Loki being into you, the date going well, possibly marrying him one day. Then the bad ones like this are set up, he’s going to be rude, he’s going to be demanding and pushy. As you pull up to a red light, you slam your forehead on the steering wheel. What are you doing to yourself? This is the god of lies, mischief, after all. There’s no way this will be some normal date he asked you on.

Oh my god, he asked you on a date. You’re going on an actual date with an actual god.

You pull up to the tower and park. Bringing yourself up the courage, you get out and make your way inside. Most of the workers are gone besides the security and one receptionist, Katie, who is by far your least favorite coworker. She stares at you in shock at your appearance.

“And where do you think you’re going dressed like that, missy?”

You get all flushed by her teasing, heading straight towards the elevator with hopes of no more interruptions. The attention you got from her was already too much. What if Loki makes a big deal? What if he goes on for what feels like hours about how you look? What if he doesn’t say anything? What if you’re not what he expected?

Trying to shake away the negative thoughts impaling your brain, you walk off the elevator as the doors open. Looking around, you realize you don’t really know where the living quarters are. You’ve never been on their floors before. Most of the time, the elevator won’t take anyone but the Avengers up there due to Tony Stark's well made A.I that practically runs the tower.

You wander the floor slowly, taking in every sight as you walk. You silently thank yourself for wearing small heels since you could hear a pin drop. The large windows display the night sky so well, showing every inch of New York below you. The light from the moon shines in the hallway as you make your way down.

A large thumping sound comes from the end of the hallway, drawing your attention to it and away from the scenery. Slowly, you make your way over to the sound, hoping it’s an indication of where you need to go, but it’s not like you know any better. The sound staggers, going off every so often but not consistently. You wander your way to a room with the door wide open, the sound emanating from it.

You peek in to see Captain America going at it on the punching bag. He’s shirtless so the lights reflect right off the sweat dripping down his body. You’ve always known the serum made him this buff super soldier, but the way his body is completely… perfect… is beyond you. Steve stops for a moment and turns around.

“What are you doing here?”

“I-”

“You shouldn’t be here. This floor is for Avengers only.”

“I was just meeting-”

“What with Tony? Are you just another one of his booty calls? I know you don’t speak much, since you’re all ‘shy’ and that,” Steve says, putting a sarcastic emphasis on ‘shy’, “but sorry to burst your bubble. Stark doesn’t date his receptionists.”

You are stunned into silence. In all of the teasing you’ve received from the Avengers, you’ve never had any of them treat you like this. You freeze up, not knowing what to say or even do besides fiddle with your fingers.

“Nat was right. You’re just some dumb secratary.”

That was the final blow. You back up quite quickly and go back down the hallway. You try to not mess up your makeup as you cry the whole way there. Steve’s scoffing is still able to be heard down the hallways until he comes up to you. He pushes you over, stumbling over your heels, as he walks away, muttering about you not belonging there.

As Loki exits his room, he hears a muffled cry from somewhere off in the distance. He wanders the halls to see you walking slowly towards him, trying to contain your tears. Anger eters his body as he storms towards you, raging at whoever or whatever made you cry. Then he sees Steve push past you in a hurried manner, muttering something to himself. Loki grabs his arm right before he can manage to pass by.

“What did you say to her?” he shouts.

“I told her she doesn’t belong up here. She’s a receptionist for goodness sake, not a very important one, but one that isn't allowed up here.”

“Did it ever come across to your small mind that maybe she does belong here?”

“How would she be?”

“Maybe because I asked her out on a date and told her to meet me here, but let me guess, you’re too shoved up your honorable and glorious ass to hear her speak?”

“Not like she speaks much.”

“And when did that ever stop you with the Winter Soldier?”

Steve stares daggers at Loki until he realizes the god may be right. Not wanting to admit his own fault, he scoffs and yanks his arm out of Loki’s grip, walking away to the showers. Loki looks back to see you staring at him.

“I’m so sorry, love. He’s not as great as he seems.”

“No, he’s right. I don’t belong-”

“Don’t you dare say that. You do belong here, as much as I do, especially when you’re with me.”

You smile as his kind words, feeling the desperate sadness fading away from your mind. Loki reaches out for your hand with a gentle smile.

“Now, I believe we have dinner waiting.”

[eureka-its-zico]

Irrevocably Yours

Request: hey! can i request a scenario of jungkook being a rich kid who has ome of his legs is leg failure , basically can't walk without a cane , And he falls in love with a normal girl , and they end up running away , happy ending plz , also if u can , LIT IT Up with smut ' thank u ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

A/N: So. This request was sent to me a long ass time ago. I mean a LONG time ago, and I spent so much time working on it...it became too long. So I broke it up in half. Just to see if anyone actually becomes interested in how this ends. Just to see if anyone still reads anything I write. So if you end up enjoying this, please let me know and I’ll post the last of this. I have so many things buried inside my google docs that need to be set free from hibernation. 

Also, I’m sorry if this isn’t any good. I’ve rewritten this a thousand times trying to fix it, and I’ve done all I can for now. I hope someone out there enjoyed this craziness. And to the original person who asked for this, if you ever see this, I’m sorry it took so long. P.s. I also took creative liberties and changed it up a little. Much love, Jenn

Jungkook x Reader

Word count: 13,756 (yeah I know, it was longer before I halved it. Sorry!)

Genre: fluffy/Smutty(later)/First Love drama sorts mess

A part of you would always remember the first day you’d met Jeon Jungkook. His presence standing in the doorway to the classroom held every single one of your classmate's attention along with yours. Jungkook silently demanded to be noticed, even though in a way he wanted no one to notice him at all. The classroom felt louder than usual, or maybe that was just how you recalled it. Maybe it's what caused the ringing in your ears when the room was swallowed up in silence. The sound of his cane hitting the stained linoleum; ticking like a time bomb with every step. 

At first you couldn't see why he necessarily needed it. Jungkook was a master of hiding things. Even pain. It wasn’t until he’d reached the teachers desk, his hip moving to rest against it to ease the extra strain off his good leg, that the stories of his accident became true.  Not one of you were willing to look too long at the challenge in his face. Defiance turning his soft features bitter as he glanced out across the room. Jungkook wanted to appear strong; to dare anyone to mutter even a word that he wasn’t. That he wasn’t the same person he was before the accident. 

He must have been able to fool your home room teacher into forgetting. His eagerness to introduce Jungkook only caused him to accidentally come too close to his legs in passing. The teachers’ waist moved and harmlessly bump against Jungkook’s bad leg. A small movement that was enough to change Jungkook’s entire demeanor for just a second. 

The whole room collectively took a breath; waiting for him to scream out in pain. To turn savage and yell or curse at the stupidity of the teacher. Jungkook did none of it. He continued to look out into the room with his chin held high. 

You could see, however, through the crinkle by his eyes and how heavily he now leaned on his cane that it’s caused him a great deal of pain. A brief moment in showing what he tried to hide and if you weren’t staring so hard at him, you were sure you would’ve missed it.

An infamous legend among other schools as his face showed up on Sports articles that featured proud features of parents beaming excitedly at cameras. Taekwondo and track metal’s around his neck by the dozens. Grades to match the intensity of his athletic drive with a rumor that if he tried something for the first time, Jungkook would still be phenomenal at whatever it was. 

Even without ever actually meeting him - everyone in that classroom knew who he was. Jeon Jungkook was a hard man not to hear about. 

In the beginning of the year there’d been a different headline for him, however. He’d been the passenger in a friend's car that was struck by a drunk driver. The ferocity of the impact leaving the car looking like a bow. Jungkook lost a friend that night, and part of the mobility in his left leg. The driver himself died instantly and you weren't sure if that was justice enough for the two boys who’d lost so much in a matter of three seconds. 

And with so much, yet so little known about him you found yourself unable to join the others in measuring up the boy in front of you. 

Jungkook was taller than you thought he would be, or maybe you’d silently been hoping the universe wouldn’t be so cruel to give someone talent and every single attractive feature known to man. He’d been played up like he was a god among the rest of you feeble mortals. You figure’d girls were overacting, I mean it happens. Imagining after listening to all their swooning, you’d somehow shockingly find out he was nothing more than your average - ordinary - boy. 

Jungkook was anything but ordinary. 

His lean frame still retained years of training that wasn't so easily hidden, even under the layers of the school uniform. You could see the care he still placed on his outward appearance. The rising star who was still handsome, even underneath all his brooding. His school uniform strained against tight muscles in his arms and, worse, was his legs. Your cheeks heating into an embarrassed blush as his eyes landed on what seemed like your desk. It was silly to think he’d caught you gawking. Everyone was gawking at him, but even a millisecond of his gaze made your cheeks light up with embarrassment at the idea of being caught. 

There was gossip of him not wanting to go back to his old school; his old life. You didn't really blame him. Why be stuck in a place where there were millions of memories of a time you had with a close friend? Of having the ability to walk down the halls without everyone looking at you like you were damaged goods. 

“Everyone pay attention!” Mr. Choi shouted. 

It all seemed unnecessary. Your attention was already on him whether he wanted it or not. 

“I’d like to welcome our transfer student, Jeon Jungkook. I expect you all to be on your best behavior.”

“I don't need you to defend me,” he snapped. 

He started moving his way down the aisle towards the only empty seat in the room: the one next to you. 

You quickly turned away from him and started cleaning up your space. Jungkook got to the desk faster than you thought and dropped his backpack down on top of the desk. His long body slumped down into the seat, placing his cane next to the window seal. 

“We’re going to continue with our previous lecture from yesterday. You can share with Y/N until you get your own books.”

You flipped to chapter eighteen with your many notes scattered inside. Your eyes giving him a sidelong glance before sliding the book neatly between the desks. Jungkook didn't bother to look at the pages: his gaze was locked elsewhere. Somewhere outside the window with the freedom far beyond the gates of the school. 

The enter class you’d spun a hundred different sentences in your mind. Each one playing out in your head as pure idiotic or unnecessary. You just couldn’t shake the feeling that it felt wrong letting him sit there like no one cares. To be a part of the prying gazes of the class; to know his name and him not knowing yours in return. You weren't sure why you gave a shit so much, anyways, but you did. 

At the sound of the bell he was the first one to hop back onto his feet. His hand instinctively taking hold of the cane to keep him propped up as he moved to situate his backpack over his shoulders. You’d followed close behind him and gathered up your things. 

You didn't see him again until fifth period. His brooding presence in the back of the class hung like a dark cloud you couldn't shake. You knew you weren't necessarily the most cheerful person in the room, but even Jungkook’s sour puss attitude was making you want to throw glitter at him. 

He didn't acknowledge you when you came to your usual seat at the window, and it didn't bother you. No one usually acknowledged you anyways. What did bother you was that he was sitting in your window seat. Statistics was by far your least favorite subject this year, and the one thing that kept you sane was that window seat.

“That's my spot.”

Your voice didn't hold any hint of malice. It was just definitive: you wanted your seat. Jungkook didn't look at you straight away. His eyes still daydreaming through the window and the world beyond. When he did finally look at you, you were sure the annoyance in his face was meant to send you packing. Too bad for him you’d seen worse. 

“Is that look supposed to scare me? It doesn't change the fact you're in my spot.”

“I don't see your name on it.”

Your laughter turned to a scoff; cut short by your disbelief. 

“What are we in middle school? If you want to get technical, it was assigned by the teacher aka my name is theoretically on that seat. So -” 

You acted like he was a pet you could shoo off your bed. The hand motion earning you his brow to raise in return. 

“You’d really make a cripple get up?”

“Is that what we’re calling you? A cripple? Because it looks to me like you’re still capable of doing things, oh say, a paraplegic can't.”

The anger rolled through him suddenly like storm clouds. All the possibilities of playful mischief disappeared as he regarded you with so much hate, it was as if he’d struck you. 

“Oh, really? I didn't realize that they were giving away M.D titles in high schools now.”

Your mouth opened to - to what? Apologize? The sensitive part of you told you that you should. His accident hadn't been a full year yet, and here you were badgering him. Yet, you knew if you continuously babied him like everyone else it was only going to do more harm than good. Your next choice of words were cut short when your teacher walked in and asked why you were still standing. 

“He’s in my spot.”

God, now who sounded like they were in middle school? Your teacher seemed to draw a blank. His gaze moving from you to Jungkook then back to you. 

“Just sit down, Y/N.”

You did so with a huff. Your arms pulling your backpack you’d sat down on the desk closer to you like a pillow. Just so you could rest your chin on top of it and tried to ignore the smirk that was now on Jungkook’s face. 

After you’d gone to your next class you couldn't stop thinking about your exchange. It  turned your mood sour the rest of the day, and you couldn't understand why. A part of you wondering if it was because of your choice of words or the defeat that shown all too bright in his doe eyes. 

The end of the day couldn't have come fast enough. You just wanted to get home and out of your uniform and maybe get a chance to go take some photos before your parents got home. You were too preoccupied with thoughts of where you wanted to go, and what coffee shop you wanted to stop at, when you collided into the back of someone else. A loud curse followed suit of the sound of a cane dropping on pavement making your eyes shut tight and your throat constrict around a groan. 

“Jesus, can't you watch where you’re goi- oh, it's you. Enjoy attacking cripples, do we?”

You opened your eyes to see a less than amused smile on his face. He acted more like a judge at your hearing and whatever sentencing he was giving out, it wasn’t in your favor. 

“I’m sorry I wasn't paying attention.”

You moved to pick up his cane for him when his hand angrily swatted yours away making you jump back a step. 

“I don't need your charity. I can do it myself!”

“No one said you couldn’t! I was only trying to be nice.”

“Yeah, well, go and be nice somewhere else.”

He situated his weight on his good leg and bent at the knee low enough for his hand to reach out and grab his second form of support. The movement so graceful that it left you stunned, but not as much as his words did. 

“You know, just because something bad happened to you, it doesn't give you the right to be an asshole. You aren't the only person to lose someone or something important. Get over yourself.”

With your hands latched underneath the straps of your backpack you stomped around him. Not caring that you left him standing stone still. His mouth slightly agape as he watched you take your exit. 

During your walk home, somehow, Jungkook plagued your thoughts. Your mind unable to comprehend why you were still thinking about him. It was the first time you’d met, and yet, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. If you were being honest with yourself you knew from replaying the last thing you said to him.The look on his face saying plainly that you were an asshole.

Everyone’s pain mattered. Grief and loss wasn’t measured by anyone else’s pain but the person who experienced it, and to diminish it in any way was unfair. Regret was building inside your chest and it was all you could do to keep your feet from sprinting back in his direction. 

When you got home you went directly to your room, throwing your bag on the bed, and sulked to your desk. You had more pressing matters to attend to than a boys’ possible hurt feelings. No matter how many times you tried, however, you weren’t able to write out theories on government history or explain anatomical questions.

The only thing your brain appeared to focus on was how to apologize. 

You thought about Jungkook while you showered and brushed your teeth. You thought of him when you laid in bed and struggled to find a way to sleep. Your mind playing out the million different possibilities of how your apology would be taken from him. You didn't necessarily understand what it felt like to have your dreams stolen from you. To be forced to cope with a new life you hadn’t asked for and the emptiness of losing someone you loved all in one go. 

If the tables were turned and it was you, wouldn’t you feel equally as bitter? 

The following morning in between toaster cooked waffles and fixing your uniform in the mirror, you’d resigned to apologizing to him. No matter how much thinking of it made your teeth grind and a growl rise in your chest at the thought. You imagined him sneering and replying with smart remarks and it caused your mind to waver, but you were better than the pettiness swelling in your chest. You were okay with knowing his prickled exterior came from something you couldn't ever understand. 

You made sure all the time you had while you walked to school was used up by mumbling the speech you’d made up the night before. At crosswalks practicing the best stance that didn't appear threatening, was friendly, but wouldn't be misconstrued as flirting. 

That was by far the last thing you wanted to happen in his eyes. Sure, Jungkook was undeniably attractive...as much as you would've loved to laugh sarcastically in his perfectly sculpted face that his obviously very masculine features did nothing to make you weak in the knees. That you hadn’t noticed when his elbows, still clad in his jacket, moved to rest on the desk it’d caused his biceps and shoulders to equally fight for whatever was left of the fabric. Or that small scar on his cheek caught your attention when he became annoyed; his tongue poking out at the side of his jaw. 

No, you hadn't been paying an embarrassing amount of attention to him at all (or at the ridiculous outline of his thigh muscles in his school uniform)  with every step he took. 

So, since you hadn't personally taken notice of any of physically appealing traits, why would you flirt? You were well aware of the vast difference of not only your social scale, but also of your class ranking, and looks overall. You were lightyears away from ever being able to consider being more than a female acquaintance he happened to get stuck next to at school. He wasn't the first boy who was out of your league, and Jungkook wouldn't be the last. Why it bothered you so much was a child's thought you refused to entertain. 

When you finally got to school you hurried up the steps and briskly made your way down the hall. Not stopping even after Jenny cursed after you for nudging her as you went by. As soon as you swung open the door for homeroom, your eyes landed on Jungkook’s position. His cane leaning against the desk, hands tucked inside the pockets of his uniform slacks as he leaned back against the chair. 

His gaze was focused somewhere outside the window, completely blank and motionless, and you wondered if he could've been having a thought at all. He was close to being marked as unreal in your book when he blinked and turned his gaze towards you.

You hadn't realized you’d been staring until that moment. Your gaze dropping to the worn linoleum as you briskly made your way down to your desk. A mumbled, “Good morning,” falling like a bad habit from your lips while you came around the side to slid into the desk chair. Nervous hands clutching tightly to your bag as you stared straight ahead, unwilling to glance in his direction. 

Somewhere between cursing your awkwardness and staring out the window like an escape hatch your teacher started the lecture. None of it to which you were paying attention too, which was probably why you heard him call your name. You jerked in your seat as he yelled it a second time. Your eyes no doubt wide from giggles that sounded around the room. 

“Y/N, since you're listening, you can go ahead and answer number forty-seven in the workbook.”

Panic sent your eyes wide as you stared back at his expectant face: waiting for you to fail. You hadn't even taken your book out since you’d sat down, finally moving to do so, when you felt a light tap against your bag. It was enough to jerk your gaze away from the teacher and down to a completed book of all the problems done by Jungkook. 

He cleared his throat and tucked his hands back inside the pockets of his trousers easily not understanding the severity of how his actions had left you wide-eyed in surprise. You were still taking too long, causing your teacher to prompt you with a grunt and Jungkook to casually reach out and tap the answer again. Your eyes trailing over the written answer before standing up and clearing your throat. The answer rolling off your tongue as easy as breathing; as if you didn't just steal it from a notebook. 

You made a silent prayer the teacher didn't notice the sweat threatening to break at your temple. The nervous ticking of your feet tilting from spot to spot. A rush of relief escaping your lips when his response to your answer was to continue class. 

You took your seat next to Jungkook; unable to acknowledge him just yet for saving you from whatever punishment your teacher would've no doubt thought of. The realization that Jungkook himself was the reason for your lack of concentration making your cheeks flush an embarrassing pink making your arms wrap protectively around your backpack. 

You’d never even brought out your textbook. Never dropped your bag from your desk and no doubt Mr. Choi knew you were given the answer. You buried your mouth against the coarse nylon in a weak attempt to stifle your embarrassment. 

“Thank you.”

Your eyes caught the soft tilt of his brow as it rose at the muffled words. You could make out his left shoulder leaning him down towards your huddled position, making your hands involuntarily tighten into your backpack. 

“What was that?”

The husky whisper of his words weren't anything you’d heard before, and they resonated up your spine to leave you staring starry-eyed.

“Th-thank you. For giving me the answer.”

He didn't respond. His gaze fixed solely on your face until you forcibly struggled to keep from fidgeting under its weight. After what felt like a small eternity, Jungkook nodded his head and faced forward. The sudden ghost of the death of your conversation causing you to blink at his profile. 

The rest of the class was spent with your focus lacking on taking notes. How could you focus with his presence commanding your attention? A small army of ants creeping along your nerves demanding to acknowledge him. It was so strong, when the bell rang you jumped up from your seat to try and escape into the freedom of the school’s hallway, only to end up with your knee connecting straight into the hardwood of the desk. Jungkook’s snort at your misfortune was enough to remind you how much of an arrogant pain in the ass he could be. 

“Wow - good job doofus.”

Your head snapped back in his direction; tongue rolling in your cheek as he hopped up from his seat. A hand snaking out to grab his bag and sling it over his shoulder as the other reached for his cane. You held your head high despite how awful your knee was stinging, and stood up adjusting your bag. 

“Seriously? That's all you've got? Doofus? Next time let’s try harder.”

Jungkook didn't seemed miffed by your retort, actually seeming more amused than anything, and for some reason it only bugged you more. Did you really want to get into another argument like you were in primary school with him? You discarded the thought as you tightened the strings on your backpack and decided to take the mature route and leave him behind. 

The hallways mass of bodies rushing to get to their next period giving you comfort; until you remembered you shared the same economics class. Today was also a field trip to a farm to learn the process of making soy products. It would take up the last few classes of the day. You’d been excited to spend the day out of class and enjoy the rustic scenery out of town. Your only hope was that he hadn't been able to get his parental slip signed; he’d just started the day before. How could he?

When the teacher walked in and asked Jungkook for his permission slip you wanted to howl. Why was the universe so cruel? But why did you care so much? 

It was a question you didn't bother to think about; you just grumbled the whole way to the bus. Your teacher standing at its entrance to put a check by your names every time one of your classmates passed him by like lined up cattle. You were the last checkmark: the last person to find an available seat. You rounded the final step and your stomach sank down into your shoes. The universe seeming to play a sick joke of musical chairs; your only options being Jungkook or Amber, the girl who actively struggled to make sure your life was a living hell. 

You’d rather be eaten by dogs than even attempt to sit with her. Jungkook it was, then.

Your hand clasped tighter around the strap of your bag as you moved it farther up your shoulder. A large sigh accommodating your steps as you side-stepped down the aisle ending with you in front of his seat. His cane taking up what was left of it. 

Jungkook didn't seem to register your presence or he just decided to pretend you weren't there. Either way you felt your annoyance grow as you cleared your throat to grab his attention. His chin barely leaving the perch of his fist as his head turned; gaze intimidating in a way that left your fingers pinching the fabric of yours clothes just to make sure they were still there and he hadn't stared straight through them. 

“Can I help you?”

“I need a seat.”

He looked back and no doubt noticed the open spot next to Amber. Jungkook’s giving the slightest nod as he retorted, “There’s one right back there.”

“Come on, Jungkook. What do you want?”

“You're bribing me now?” 

His smile was so bright, borderline adorable, and you hated how it threatened to make you retaliate with your own. 

“Stop being a brat and just tell me,” you snapped instead. 

Jungkook shot a quick glance back at Amber’s giggling figure. You were sure most people thought she sounded like wind chimes or something else cute and feminine, but to you it just sounded like a cat dying. When he looked back at you, Jungkook checked you out one last time. His eyes stopping at the lone earbud that sat against your chest. For a moment, you thought he was actually staring at your breasts making your cheeks burn and your gaze to look anywhere else but at his smug face. 

“Let me listen to your iPod there and back on this trip, and I'll let you sit with me.”

“What am I supposed to do?”  

Jungkook did a lavish hand sweep at the window. The motion reminding you of the showgirls on The Price is Right, making you believe maybe he’d somehow watched it, and one too many times. 

“You get to use your imagination while you look out the window.”

“No way. Joint custody.”

“Fine. Joint custody, but I get to pick the music the whole way. If you have shitty taste the deal's off.”

He stuck out his hand for you to shake and there was a moment, a minor second, that it felt like you were making a deal with the devil. However, the sound of Amber’s laughter practically had your hand bolting into Jungkook’s. You shook it harder than was necessary before dropping it and shooing him to move. 

Jungkook removed his bag and cane from the seat. Your legs giving out moments later so you could plop down in it, only to be greeted by his outstretched hand. The smile that spread across his lips shining brighter than the mischief in his eyes. 

“As per our agreement: the iPod.”

He wiggles his fingers and you wanted to smack him. Your own squeezing tighter against the metal until, reluctantly, you chose your fate by placing it into his hand. Jungkook didn’t seem to mind your current look of displeasure while you watched him begin to scroll through your assorted music collection. 

At least the seat was warm. 

The first few seconds were somehow more awkward than you thought possible. Eyes locked in a fifty-yard stare so intense a soldier would’ve been envious. The only movement you caught of him was from your peripherals. Jungkook’s thumbs picking up speed from the leisurely way he scanned through the artists you’d offered. And no you did not, whatsoever, happen to notice the way his bottom lip would dart inside his mouth just to be held gently between his teeth. All the while his eyes focused on the task in front of him.

Nope. You weren’t paying attention to him. Not even a little bit. So how he was able to make you jump twelve inches out of your skin, while you were most definitely not embarrassing yourself by gawking over a beautiful man, was beyond you.

“Ya!” Jungkook clicked his tongue in distaste. His hand wiggling the ipod in your direction, as if it had caused some great offense. “What is this?”

Your neck tiled as you regarded him like he’d grown two heads. You were also positive if your eyebrows knitted together any harder you’d end up with a unibrow. 

“Ugh, a mystical device that plays music.”

The look on Jungkook’s face faltered from frustration to annoyance. It was so sudden it ended up sending a bark of laughter in his direction. And just like that, the annoyed look was back again. 

“I mean, what the hell do you have on this thing. Who is The Dead Weather? City and Colour? Joji?”

“They are artists I enjoy.”

“They’re shit.”

You rushed to try and snatch it back from him. Jungkook’s reflexes proving to be faster than your growing urge to smack him.

“Excuse me, little miss,” he began. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He used his index finger to push gently against your forehead, but with the current level of irritation, he still proved faster than you. Your failed attempt to swat his hand away meeting only empty air. Earning you a smirk of smug satisfaction. 

“I’m trying to get my things back.”

“That wasn’t part of our agreement.”

You tried one last time to take him by surprise. Your right hand shot out too hard to grab at the object clasped in his large hands. The momentum carried you forward to land shoulder first against his chest. Leg nudging against his with enough force that it caused his cane to move an inch. It took everything you had to keep your head down to hide your flaming cheeks. 

“And now you’re assaulting me.”

If your eyes were capable of rolling back any father you might've seen brain cells.

“I was only trying to get my property back. Since the only thing that’s coming out of you is complaining.”

“I’m not complaining,” he snapped. “You’re acting like an Indian giver.”

“Is that all you know how to do: complain?” You continued, completely ignoring him. A slight smirk now etching your lips. Jungkook’s eyes flicking down to notice your amusement at his expense. “I believe they call it, ‘trying something new.’” 

His eyes narrowed on you and for a split second your pulse began to race. Sure, the agitation on his face at your teasing was obvious, but you could’ve sworn...maybe...just maybe he was smirking. Could you have possibly been able to make him smile? 

“I should make you go sit with Amber.”

The smugness in his voice and the cocky smile that joined it instantly made whatever fun you were having come to a complete halt. Jungkook was so pleased with himself he had the audacity to shimmy his shoulders like he’d already won. The rolls had reversed. It was your eyes turn to throw daggers in his direction. 

“Now who's the Indian giver.”

Even though he played up on what he felt like was a win, you could tell he was not as amused. His non-injured leg bounced to an incredible rhythm that he could only hear. Probably a furious count to a hundred to keep himself from saying anything else to continue your usual thrilling conversations. So when he handed over one earbud, and the iPod, but placed the other into his ear, it was fair to say it left you baffled. 

You were waiting so long for him to give an explanation, but all he did was continue to stare at you. It was starting to make your pulse race again. Why did he constantly have to feel so intense? Everything about him. Not even his current state made him seem any less notable. It just didn’t seem fair. 

It wasn’t until he cleared his throat did you realize you’d been staring. For god knows how damn long. 

“You gonna play something or not?” he asked. 

His hand motioned towards the music while his fingers adjusted the earbud he’d kept. 

“I’m so confused.”

“You look it,” he retorted, causing your earlier thoughts to remember, although handsome, he was an incredible pain in the ass. 

“Ten seconds ago you complained about my music. Now you want me to play it for you.”

Jungkook turned his gaze away, his body relaxing back against the hard foam of the seat. His eyes still cast outside the window as if he was trying to find some way to escape. 

“Either I can spend the next couple hours listening to you talk, or “try” out some new music. If I have a choice, I’ll pick the music please and thank you.”

Oh, how you wish you could’ve shoved him out that tiny window. But as much as you hated to admit it, Jungkook was right. Music was the only reasonable escape from possibly having either of you commit murder. 

It was your turn to try and get comfortable. This time your thumb scanning down the list of artists until your eyes caught sight of one he’d mentioned. Without giving him warning you pressed play. The haunting melody of Joji’s “Dancing in the Dark,” flooded the earbuds. His voice melancholic as he began to sing a sad tale of not wanting to be the hidden second option. 

The song choice was enough to finally get Jungkook to look back at you. Somehow already having enough with the song choice before it’d barely even reached the chorus. 

“Just listen.”

It was the only advice you could give him, and hopefully the reassurance you’d tried to ease into your tone was enough. Whether it was or not, by the time the chorus began he seemingly relaxed again into the seat. His arms moving to cross lazily against his chest. He seemed to actually be taking in the song while he watched out the window. The passing of the steel and concrete that was Seoul into the rural areas of green and forest. 

The music itself was calming. It was enough to let yourself fully relax back against it and close your eyes. With your eyes closed you could easily fade out the sounds of the sporadic conversations on the bus. Even though you only had one ear bud, all you needed was to concentrate on the music to drown out the world. 

It took a few seconds for you to be pulled into a Joji’s song about terrible longing and being left behind by a lover. I mean, you didn’t really know too much about the latter, but hey, a girl could daydream. His voice was seconds away from heading into the second verse of the chorus, when you heard the sound of the melody being lightly sung beside you. 

The voice was beautiful. The most startling part, not the fact of its softness, or the way it swelled in perfect harmony with the song, was that it came from Jungkook. Your eyes flung open with your head snapping to gaze at his serene expression. He continued to face the window, daylight playing along the profile of his face, and his gentle voice singing perfectly in tune. 

It wasn’t loud enough that anyone else could’ve heard it over the dozens of bursting conversations being spoken throughout the bus. That the only conclusion you could come up with to why he would be singing at all. He thought no one would be able to pay attention. You probably would’ve stayed gawking at him if his eyes fluttering open didn’t send you crashing back against the seat and clutching your eyes shut. You needed to pretend you hadn’t noticed. Or else he would stop. He would hide this part of himself that showed he was more than what he tried to portray. 

You didn’t have to open your eyes to know he was glancing in your direction. To see his eyes gaze over you with suspicion before settling back and listening to the next track. Khalid’s intro of “Talk,” beginning to play into your earbud. 

You spent the rest of the trip staying beside him, close as you could get without looking creepy, just to hear him gently sing. He breathed a gentle version of each one he knew, or came to like, and made it his own. Even being a few times were his nerves got the better of him. His voice rising ever slightly when he drew too deep into the song. He would quiet after each outburst, but to your pleasure Jungkook would start back up moments later. 

After all the bickering, you could definitely say the trade was worth it. You were so taken with listening to him that when the bus came to a stop, you didn’t realize it until your earbud was yanked from your ears. Your eyes heavy from sleep fluttered open and closed a few times before they focused on Jungkook’s face. 

“Ya, didn’t you hear them call us off the bus?”

Your response came in the form of slow blinks and a mouth half-hung open. You wished more for a nap than going out to explore a farm, but your limbs were screaming to be stretched. You went to answer him when, instead, Jungkook grabbed his bag, cane, and started to try and scoot over you.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?”

“Trying to get by! So excuse me!”

His backside rubbed against your arms and, to your horror, your chest. Without thinking, your hand lashed out to smack across his bottom causing both of you to go as still as the dead. Your heart was thundering as you looked at your hand like it’d just finished committing murder. Maybe it had. But the only person it’d murdered was you with your eyes roaming up to see a shocked Jungkook gawking down at you over his shoulder. 

“Did you really just smack my ass.”

“It was an accident!”

“An accident?” He questioned.

“Self-defense!”

Jungkook tried to hide the amusement your no doubt panicking was causing him. His mouth struggling to keep the frown that was tilting ever so slightly at the top of his lips. 

“If anything needed to be defended, it was my honor. Over here just smacking people’s ass’s without a warning.”

You knew by now your face looked like a fire hydrant. 

“Self-defense from you dragging your ass all over me! I’m not a seat, ya know.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

This time Jungkook didn’t try to hide his smile. To your surprise, it wasn’t a malicious one that showed he enjoyed your embarrassment. No. This one decorated his face in something softer that made your heart thunder to a different rhythm entirely. 

“Oh, look you guys. Shit Stain and The Cripple are flirting.”

Amber’s grating voice was one you’d grown painstakingly accustomed too. The sinister way she spoke impossibly loud just so everyone was forced to hear her. Whether they wanted to or not. You were used to her coldness and the constant way she harassed you. What you weren’t so used to, was having Jungkook as part of the punchline. 

Immediately, you felt his legs tense where they touched you. The muscles ramrod straight and flexing under the skin. The lighthearted tone you’d heard seconds before in your banter was now replaced with an aloofness that made you stiffen in your seat. Jungkook’s jaw held tight as he regarded Amber as if she were no more than a pest buzzing at his ear.

“Ya, fix your nose before you bother talking to me. I can see half the planet up there.”

Amber’s eyes flashed hellfire as she glowered over her shoulders to stop the giggling that ensued. When all grew quiet enough to where she felt like she would be heard, a harsh smile spread her lips. Her legs began to take a step to move away from the two peasants who’d held enough of her attention. 

“Whatever, Cripple. Try not to get your stick in any holes.”

She was passing the front of your shared seat when, suddenly, Amber’s legs gave way. A tumbling mess of shrieks, bleached hair, and her arms flapping rapidly a solid indication of her mysterious attempt at taking flight. The only thing that moved to catch her was her face. The minute the laughter began to bubble up inside you, you quickly placed a hand over your mouth. Least the she-devil hear it escape. 

You took a second to inspect what could’ve possibly taken down the ice queen. Even when she wore ridiculously high heels, Amber walked with a grace you knew you’d never pull off. Not without looking like a newborn giraffe, that is. Glancing down you noticed Jungkook’s cane strategically placed right where her foot would’ve landed. The culprit in making Amber a freshly minted carpet on the bus’s floor. Somewhere on the bus you knew she was up from her tumble and huffing a few choice words. You were sure she knew, just like you did, that Jungkook was the one who’d done it. You paid no attention to her tantrum and kept a transfixed gaze on him. 

He’d finished scooting the rest of the way to get to the middle of the bus and was situating his cane and shoulder bag. His hand suddenly reaching down into view and patiently waiting for you to take it. 

“Come on, Y/N. Let’s go.”

You knew you looked like a fool. Your eyes mirroring the thousands of silent questions that threatened to make you ill. A part of you hoping he understood your dumbfounded look simply begged him to find some way to answer you. You’d stared starry-eyed up at him for so long you half expected the patience of Jungkook’s open hand to fall flat. Instead, he continued to surprise you. His gaze gentle, and hand openly waiting for you to take it when you were ready. 

With eyes wide and mouth agape, your body rejected your stunned silence and placed a small hand in his. His own quickly enveloped yours perfectly and gave you the added support you needed to find stable footing beside him. Jungkook finally looked away from you to stare at the remaining goons. 

The moment you stood beside him you became painfully aware of the noticeable height difference. Your gaze moving up inch-by-inch until your eyes were locked onto his face. The stubbornness of a hard set jaw and eyes that dared anyone to speak enough to make your heartbeat pick up in your chest. When he appeared to be finished making sure his presence was known, Jungkook’s eyes turned back to you. A silent request of reassurance to know you were alright making you answer with a quick nod. 

Your cheeks blushed furiously as you struggled to look away from his gaze. No longer were you so worried about Amber; your mind trapped on a repeat of questions. Did Jungkook always smell like Calvin Klein cologne? Could it be considered weird how you felt undeniable comfort pressed up against him? Or really weird if in your head you suddenly imagined recreating this scene a million times later with you being braver beside him, instead of being the damsel in distress.

He didn’t seem at all perplexed with your case of sudden shyness. His strong legs pulling you both forward and past the horde of Amber and her lackeys without missing a step. His head held high while the other hand helped him keep his balance without using his cane. For the small world that was high school, Jungkook showed them he was still that once popular boy who was known for not taking shit from no one. A demi-god amongst mere mortals that were somehow honored by his presence. 

And here you were. So close to the orbit of his sun and walking away unscathed.

Your train of rushing thoughts kept you from paying attention. It was something you soon were going to regret when he led you off the steps of the bus and onto the dirt road. Jungkook’s exit was obviously graceful while yours in comparison was a train wreck. Instead of your feet stepping off the last step and landing like a normal person, you lost your footing. Your clumsy feet sending you struggling to find a balance with the earth before you crash landed on the floor. Luckily, Jungkook’s back was there to catch you. 

The momentum of your fall sent his feet skittering to correct you both before you fell into the dirt. A few choice cuss words leaving his lips and crimson flaring up on your cheeks to make the dance of falling even more entertaining. You could practically hear the cackling of the witches echoing out of the bus like a cave. 

Jungkook made quick work of righting you both; his good leg furiously hoping to support the weak one. His cane dug into the earth a good inch to add some more stabilization. You let go of his hand and moved away from his side where you’d previously been planted. You weren’t worthy of being there. This boy who saw your distress and helped you. Only for you to ruin it in the process. 

“Well that’s one way to ruin an exit,” he huffed. 

He glanced in your direction and you could’ve sworn he was smiling. Or was that a smirk? Whatever it was, it was quickly washed away as his eyes took you in. “You okay?”

“I’m sorry!”

Your words rushed from your lips with your back snapping to bow a perfect ninety-degrees. Your hair a curtain to try and hide your embarrassment. 

“Ugh...for what?”

“For bumping into you like that. I should’ve been paying attention.”

A soft laugh bounced from between his lips and you were willing to beat his face lit up like pure sunshine. You moved to stand upright just in time to see you were right. Jungkook was either oblivious to the way you were looking at him, or was simply unfazed. His shoulder hiking the backpack where it’d begun to fall as he adjusted himself to get ready to move to join the rest of the class up ahead. 

“You did ruin one hell of a stylish exit.”

“I don’t know how stylish you can be stepping off of a school bus, but...thank you.” 

The both of you locked eyes with one another. A large part of you hoped Jungkook was able to see the sincerity or at least hear it. Maybe he wasn’t that much of a pain in the ass after all. That soft smirk you’d grown accustomed to etched back on his lips as he took the first step towards your waiting classmates.

“No problem. Plus, I figured I owed you for letting me listen to your music.”

You felt your brow shoot up in mock surprise. Your legs falling into step beside him. 

“I thought you said I had terrible taste.”

“I never said terrible,” Jungkook corrected. His eyes danced with a playfulness that lifted a smile to your lips

“You could’ve fooled me.”

“Well, it wasn’t the greatest, but thank you. I actually ended up liking most of it, at least.”

“Oh, what a sweet way of insulting my musical taste.”

“Hey! I said I liked most of it. It’s like a win-win. Kinda.”

You wanted to be snappy. Give him some more hell for always playing up on being a condescending moody jerk. In reality, walking next to Jungkook while the silence swelled around you without the awkward pressure; you knew that wasn’t all of him. He’d proven how sweet he could be at the memory of how easily you’d felt protected by a simple stretch of a hand. The look in his eyes while he waited for you to take his extended hand a plea to know you could trust him. Strangely, a part of you already felt like you could. 

You snuck a look over in Jungkook’s direction, and felt a smile begin to sweep up the corners of your lips. It was a different, but nice, change to have someone come to your defense. Yeah, most of the time you wanted to throttle him for seeming like he could care less. In that moment, however, he cared enough to help. That had to mean something.

“You’re welcome.”

You hoped your words conveyed the gratitude you felt in that moment. Prayed that Jungkook could hear it. When he looked at you, you made sure to give him a quick smile before you looked away. Your eyes struggled not to look back at him; to tell him all the things that were racing through your head. It took every ounce of your will to stay focused on the group of classmates that were growing closer. Somewhere along the way, you’d hoped Jungkook would’ve replied with his usual smart ass remarks. It worried you how sad a small part of you felt at his silence. 

Now, you worried maybe you were going a little nuts.

Instead, you came to the edge of the group in silence. Your ears struggling to grasp on to the middle of what your teacher gave out for instructions for the day. 

So what if that insane part of you didn’t receive a smart ass remark in return for your gratitude. You were more than happy with the fact Jungkook stayed by your side. The close proximity just enough to convey what you were both feeling without unnecessary words.

______________

For the past hour the farmer -Kim Sejung - had shown the class around his vast property. The beginning of this magical tour starting with where he manufactured the tofu once it was fermented then sent down to be processed for packaging. He was a man who took immense pride in his work. The next room where the fermentation took place and, his overeager explanation, spelled out how devoted he was to his craft. 

The whole entire backwards presentation was something your teacher decided became a chance for everyone to write down everything you’d been shown. A punishment you knew was coming when Kim Sejung lost half the class to their own conversations long before you’d hit the second part of his speech. 

Now, anyone could be wondering why all of you were taking the longest stroll of your life out in the middle of the farm. A fair question you’d been asking yourself since you realized your shoes were completely covered in mud. You’d been trying to understand why this hadn’t been the first place Kim Sejung would’ve taken all of you. Your only guess being he just enjoyed showing the process backwards. Or maybe he was secretly a  mastermind at torture. It was the only logical conclusion you could come up with at having the entire class now out in the muddy acres of his farm.

And sure, maybe your attention was being sent over your shoulder every five seconds. A certain boy with exhaustion creased in his brow making it harder for you to ignore. You were looking back so often you felt like you’d end up with whiplash at any minute. Really, it was all Jungkook’ fault for causing you to worry; becoming painfully aware with each glance at Jungkook’s struggling frame. 

How Sejung -, or anyone else for that matter, hadn’t noticed he was falling further behind the group with every step left you completely perplexed. You’d gave up listening to whatever the farmer or teacher talked about or what questions they were throwing around. You could bet it had to do about soil. 

If everyone else could ignore him why couldn’t you? It’s not that you hadn’t tried, cause of course you’d done exactly that. Your bottom lip now held a semi-permanent indent from your teeth. Whenever you felt that tick in your neck to look back to check on him: you bit down. When you felt like drawing attention to him by saying something: you bit down. A part of you willing to bet Jungkook would never forgive you if you did. 

Your solution? It was ingenious, really. 

You fell back behind every classmate. Patiently, you waited for everyone to pass you up. Your feet dragging in the muddy dirt until you were sure no one would notice when you inevitably stopped. 

With a soft count of three under your breath, you came to a halt at the back of the group. Your small count continued for another round before you were comfortable with the distance it’d placed between the group, Jungkook, and yourself.

You let out a huff of satisfaction as you turned around to give Jungkook your complete attention. Your neck thanking you for the small favor. What you found, however, greeting you was far from what you’d hoped to find. 

Jungkook’s current location became a solid five feet behind the group. His feet finally coming to the large puddle of mud that you and the class had easily maneuvered Jungkook had not. His struggle coming to a standstill at the muddy puddles edge. Jungkook’s face etched itself in harsh determination to no doubt allow him from moving forward. You told yourself you would stay back and wait for him. 

Just wait, You kept telling yourself over and over. A broken record having nothing on what you felt capable of standing there. Your pulse bonding in your veins and feet bouncing with anxiety as he assessed his options. All you were supposed to do was hang back to walk with him. That was it. You weren’t his nanny. You knew how he felt about being pitied, and yet, when he took his first tentative step out into the mud and his cane sunk deep and his bad leg followed suit, your feet deceived you. 

It appeared Mother Nature had her own way of pushing you past your reserved good intentions. Your feet sprinted forward fast enough that you were embarrassed at their quickness. The expected movement bringing Jungkook’s frustrated gaze up from his current dilemma to you.

“What are you doing here, Y/N?”

The annoyance held in his question didn’t go unnoticed by you. If it was you in his position, you’d be annoyed seeing you standing there too and not offering to help. 

“I came to help you.”

The words just streamed out with your running thoughts. Your feet willing to move forward back into the mud to help him. Jungkook noticeably began to struggle to remove his foot that submerged quickly underneath. 

“I didn’t ask for your help.”

“You didn’t have too, Jungkook. I want to help.”

“Let me rephrase myself.” His irritation was pure fire in his eyes as his words hurled in your direction. “I didn’t ask for it and I don’t want it.”

You wish you could say you handled his dismissal with grace. That you understood he was only being a jerk because he was embarrassed and angry at his current predicament. You really wanted to be that bigger person. Well...that most definitely wasn’t what happened. 

Your eyes narrowed in on him. Your previous desire to help evaporated as you watched his leg sink deeper. His other foot soon joined the first in a poorly calculated attempt to release the other. Your arms crossed over your chest as you took in the scene before you. 

“Well, Jungkook, I’m not sure if you noticed but you’re slowly heading towards being buried under that mud.”

“Thank you for that astute observation. Anything else you’d like to add?”

“Why are you being such an asshole?!” you snapped.

Your arms came loose down at your side and turned to clenched fists. You weren’t exactly sure what you expected his reaction to be. You knew Jungkook held a hatred for being pitied. Hell, you would too if it was the other way around. You knew he wasn’t helpless, but you also knew he couldn’t do everything alone. No one could. So what was so wrong with offering to help him?

You weren’t sure how you looked. Maybe crazy? Or did the desperation of not knowing how to handle the situation have you appear sad? Whatever it was Jungkook saw, it was enough to look away. His eyes dropping down to his covered feet. 

The space between the two of you swelled with tension. His hair perfectly covering his face, and kept you from being able to steal any glance. It was enough to make you unsure if you should prepare yourself for a verbal battle with him or if you should simply walk away. What if you’d made a mistake thinking Jungkook would want to be bothered at all with help. Especially from you. 

“God, this is embarrassing.”

His words were so light you weren’t sure at first if he’d spoken. A part of you wondering if you’d made up the sound of his voice as Jungkook’s face continued to be hidden by layers of hair. But, lord help you, you knew you weren’t imagining things. The sound of his voice is something you’d come to recognize with ease. You knew without a doubt it most definitely was him. And the sadness that reverberated from his words made your anger dissipate instantly. 

“What?”

Could you have picked a stupider response? When Jungkook lifted his head up to look at you, you knew he silently agreed.

“It’s embarrassing!” His hands motioned to take in his current predicament. The hurt shown on his proud features made your heart ache to comfort him. “How pitiful can I get? It’s so damn frustrating! The cripple unable to get himself out of some stupid mud.”

“Jungkook, you are literally the least pitiful person I’ve ever met.”

“And yet, it doesn’t make me any less stuck.”

You took a step forward and began to try and edge around what you could of the puddle. You knew there was no way you weren’t getting more mud on your shoes, but the purpose was worth it. 

“Why didn’t you just go around it?” Your question earned you a dead stare. One that reminded you of your mother when she felt like you’d asked the silliest question. You held your hands up in surrender and said, “Hey. It’s a fair question.”

“If I just go around it, it proves that I can’t do the simplest thing, Y/N. It proves…”

“That you aren’t like everybody else,” you finished for him.

You could’ve kicked yourself. How could you not have noticed it sooner. Jungkook just wanted to prove to himself that he could still do things like he did before his accident. Because even though he showed people bringing up his disability didn’t bother him, it did. He still hadn’t come to terms with what happened, and believed the current state of his leg deemed him less worthy. 

He looked away from whatever he saw in your eyes. His own fighting not to show the sadness that threatened to spill down his cheeks. 

“You aren’t like everyone else, Jungkook.” Your words tore his head back in your direction. His shoulders quickly squared up to take whatever verbal blow you were about to hurl in his direction. You were happy to convince him otherwise.

“You don’t need to prove anything to a single person. Yeah, you aren’t a hundred percent who you used to be, but it doesn’t make you any less you. You aren’t defined by a damn leg and if another human being does treat you differently because of it: fuck’em. Now, get your shit together and hand me the end of your cane.”

The both of you stared at one another for what felt like an eternity. Jungkook’s face unreadable as his eyes took you in making you squirm just the slightest bit. Whether he was looking for a hint that you were deceiving him; that something hurtful laid underneath, he wouldn’t find it. You made sure with your hand this time open and waiting for him, that he could see just how much you meant what you said. 

After what felt like a baby size eternity, Jungkook answered you in a way you’d grown to expect. In one swift motion, he picked his cane out from the mud and placed it, dirty end first into your waiting hand. Your face scrunched up in disgust, as the leftover mud squished between your fingers. The action enough to break the coldness of Jungkook’s blank expression into the smirk that was all too familiar. 

“Oh my god! You would do that.”

The amusement on his face was enough to tell you he’d most definitely done it on purpose. Of course, you’d already known that. You didn’t need his raised eyebrow or that devilish smirk to inform you of that.

“Oh, so you think you know me now.”

“I know enough to know, without a doubt, this is something you’d do. Brat.”

You saved the last word for good measure and it was met with a bark of surprise laughter. His reaction was not something you’d expected, but a welcomed one as his face instantly lit up brighter than you’d ever seen. Jungkook’s laughter and smile was genuine and good god, was it breathtakingly adorable. 

Who knew calling him a brat led to so many heart stopping possibilities? Like no longer having a permanent scowl. 

“Alright smart ass, how about we settle this for when I’m not stuck in the mud.”

“You got yourself a deal. Only if you stop pouting.”

“I was not pouting!”

It was your turn to laugh wholeheartedly while your other hand moved to secure itself to his cane. There was no way you’d be letting it slip free from you. Mud or no mud. 

“Tomato potato: pouting is pouting.”

Jungkook’s head tilted to the side. His brain noticeably trying to comprehend what it was you just said.

“That makes absolutely no sense.”

“It makes perfect sense, Jungkook now grab a hold of yo-“

Honestly, you should’ve seen this coming. He’d already given you a muddy end of a cane. It was the perfect foreshadowing moment that was leading up to this, and yet, somehow you were surprised when he pulled with full force. You figured he was strong - not freakishly. Not enough to send you flying face first toward the large mud puddle with the sound of a squeaking bird of surprise that you could only assume was yourself. 

The only thing that kept you from going face first was a split second decision to ruin just the lower half of your outfit. 

The impact with the mud was squishy and came with the weirdest sound effects that reminded you of pushing your hand into a container of slim. God, was it squishy. An immediate, “Ewww,” dragging out from your lips as your hands lifted up from where they’d been buried. Your eyes taking in the full extent of your lower half now resembles the Swamp Thing. 

Jungkook’s laughter brought you back to reality and flinging what was left of the mud on your hands in his direction. It only earned you another bark of laughter. 

“What in the hell was that for?!”

“Now whose pouting?” He teased.

You wanted to hit him but you knew you couldn’t reach. So you settled for flinging another round of mud. 

“Are you kidding me? You pulled me in here cause I said you were pouting!”

“Yup.”

“Unbelievable. You’re a child.”

“I thought you said brat?”

“That too! Ugh! Jungkook! You’re such a pain in the ass. I’m not helping you anymore.”

You moved to try and pull up one leg and found it way more difficult than you’d imagined. Seriously, was this shit superglue? No matter how many times you struggled to pull up either leg it wouldn’t budge; producing an agitated groan to seep from your body. 

You wanted to murder him. 

When you glanced up at him at least Jungkook had the decency to appear worried.

“Do you need help? I didn’t think it’d be so hard for you to pull yourself up.”

“Oh, so you’re worried about me not being able to pull myself up, but not about me covered in mud.”

The shrug Jungkook gave as an answer made you want to throttle him. You wanted to tell him to shove his help up his ass. Realistically, however, you knew there was no way you were getting unstuck without getting dirtier from crawling around. For a second time, his hand appeared, like magic, in front of you. 

Your eyes trailed up his hand to that devilish grin of his and found your earlier agitation disintegrate. What you hated the most, was how his eyes lit up to match his smile. This warm version of Jungkook wasn’t someone you were used to. You’d seen the cocky jock who knew he was good at everything. Experienced the real asshole Jungkook that made you want to rip out chunks of hair. But this side of him...was worth a heartache or two. 

Without another thought you reached out and took his hand and allowed him to start lifting you up. It wasn’t until you were half way you came up with your own plan. A devilish grin of your own spreading your lips wide as the idea grew into something worth doing . 

Jungkook had a moment to be confused before your free hand shot out and took fierce hold of his forearm. You made sure it was locked in place before your body went completely limp, and sent his body into an unbalanced mess. 

“The fu-!”

Jungkook’s descent, at first, made you feel like you’d accomplished a victory. One you didn’t get to relish in for long. Jungkook may not have been able to finish his earlier sentence, but you easily made up for it. A softened, “Fuck!” came pressed from your chest as he landed sideways on top of you. The angle reminded you of an awkward pair of scissors: if one part of the scissors was ridiculously muscled for a student. 

You’d had little time to move your hands up to brace yourself against his weight. The air from your lungs whooshing out in laughter with your body struggling to recover from underneath him. And no, no you weren’t painfully aware that your hands could feel every well lined muscle under the fabric of his t-shirt. And no, you were not blushing. Not even a little. 

You were sure when Jungkook lifted his head up to look in your direction, he’d see the sinful glee you took in your awkward positioning. Instead, your lungs erupted into laughter. One side of his face perfectly smeared with mud making one eye remain closed and his right doing most of the work. He looked ridiculous...and cute. 

“You think this is funny?”

“I think-I think it’s the best thing I’m going to see all day.”

It took a few tries to speak through your laughter, but when you finally got the words out you couldn’t have been more proud. Jungkook on the other hand, seemed to struggle to keep the annoyance on his face. The first sign of a smile cracking into the mud that began to dry on his face. 

Jungkook moved to prop himself up - the action giving you the room you needed to wiggle out from underneath him. You were about to call it a success, a retort to an unspoken comment he’d yet to make. All of it came crashing down, however, when Jungkook’s mud covered hand rose from the depths and placed a long streak down your nose with his thumb giving an artistic sweep across your cheek. 

The marks he gave reminded you of those old western movies you’d seen. Warpaint covered faces of men getting ready to square off to defend their home from invaders. The thought seemed to match perfectly with the beat of your heart thundering like a drum inside your chest.

It wasn’t just because Jungkook touched you - on purpose - in a playful way. It had nothing to do with the fact his muddy hand was currently resting against your cheek. Or from the denial that it brought out a spark of mischievous happiness to ignite inside you as your mouth fell open to expose the sound of laughter. No, your heart pounded against your chest purely for the look that passed behind chocolate eyes and the soft smile that followed close behind. 

So, sure. In that instance it could’ve just been a plan old look. You weren’t a hundred percent sure it wasn’t more than just a look though, either. There was that one boy in first grade, however, who did give you an aggressive teeth-clacking peck on the lips during recess, but this was completely different. 

And because you were so uncertain of what it all meant, your only reaction was to lift your hand up from beside you and slam it palm first against his face. 

Jungkook’s face lit up in shock and you couldn’t stop the eruption of laughter that spilled from your lips. It was an immediate rush of joy at seeing his handsome face marked by your small muddy handprint that streaked itself across the plains of his face. Normally, you’d be mortified: waiting patiently to be scolded and made to feel small. Instead, the shock wore off his face in an instant. Jungkook’s eyes lighting up with childlike excitement as a giddy, “Oh yeah?” rushed between his lips. 

You didn’t have a chance to wonder what he meant before he reached into the mud and brought up a snowball version of the earth. 

“Oh, no you don’t!” 

Your eyes went wide and frantic giggles exploded free as your body struggled in vain to get out from under him. The previous joy of being pinned by his weight dissipating when that large mud ball found its new home smeared on top of your head. 

“Jungkook-ah!”

His own laughter rose up around you as your body began to move in earnest to get out from under him. When you finally realized it was pointless, another bright idea overtook you. If Jungkook noticed the renewed mischievous glint in your eye, he didn’t show it. 

He continued to smile obliviously down at you until the two fist fulls of mud you’d taken in both hands came crashing down on top of his head. It didn’t matter that your face caught some of the aftermath: the face he made was priceless. 

You didn’t get a chance to enjoy your tiny victory before the two of you were a mess of arms and limbs rolling feverishly around; the two of you playfully wrestling for dominance. The mixture of your laughter rising up until you weren’t sure where Jungkook’s ended and yours began. By the end of it, you were both resembling the pigs you’d seen earlier on the farm. Bodies fully covered in wet earth and lounging beside each other in exhaustion. Every few moments random fits of giggles overtaking the two of you until you realized you both needed to get back. 

This time, instead of the two of you refusing help from the other, you eagerly took it. The both of you worked together to reach the edge of the mud pit and, without further incident, pulled each other out. 

The walk back to the main barn was done in silence. In other circumstances, you would’ve been consumed with a need to fill it. The impending weight of anxiety would’ve flared across your skin until you would’ve blurted out anything. Small talk was never one of your strong suits, but a comfortable banter had somehow formed between the two of you. You knew if you started talking, Jungkook would respond. It was still a fifty-fifty on whether or not it would be a smart ass response or a real one, but a response nonetheless. 

You didn’t try to start a conversation. You chose to enjoy the reassurance that he was beside you. Your mind running through what exactly just happened and how you both ended up looking like bad impression art. You’d spent so much time stealing glances in his direction that you could’ve sworn you caught him doing the same. But who were you kidding. No one had stolen glances at you since middle school, and that was only to steal the answers off tests. 

There was no way Jeon Jungkook would be the one to break that trend. No matter how flattering the thought. So when you felt that knowable itch of being watched you found yourself surprised that Jungkook was indeed staring at you. 

“Are you cold?”

Jungkook’s question jolted you from your train of thought and sent you reeling into another. He was closer to you now. Close like you’d been while sitting on the bus with your shoulders brushing with every movement. Every bump helplessly sending you lightly banging into the other. 

On the bus you could easily play it off as something out of your control. But now? Now there was no good explanation that you could find to why Jungkook decided to walk so closely beside you. There was no way to explain away the way his gaze drew across your face like he’d save it to memory. 

“Well I am covered in freezing mud water.” 

You’d tried for sarcasm but your voice barely carried over a whisper. It made Jungkook’s head subconsciously dip lower just to hear you. The devilish smirk he was infamous for spread like wildfire across his lips. 

“I would offer you my jacket, since it’s the gentlemanly thing to do, but you see some crazy person pushed me into the mud.”

A scoff escaped you as your hand playfully whipped out to slap his shoulder. 

“Ya, Jungkook! You? A gentleman? That’s funny. What is also funny is the fact you got yourself stuck in the mud first. I just came to rescue you.”

“Rescue me?” He asked with an eyebrow coyly cocked. 

“I’m like your knight in shining armor.”

A throaty laugh came from between his lips; sending his head back exposing his face to the sun. You were mesmerized watching him as the sun kissed down across his face and weren’t at all ashamed at being caught watching as he brought his attention back to you. A smile of your own growing to match the one he wore along with your mind fluttering in wonder of how he was even real. 

“If you’re my knight, Y/N I’m in a lot of trouble.”

You feigned hurt but couldn’t hide the grin happily splayed on your face and, crazy thing was, you didn’t want to. It felt impossible that the two of you were so giddy with each other. A strange familiarity brewed heavily between you to the point it felt like the two of you joked like this for years. 

Jungkook’s own smile enough to warm the chill that began to creep up your arms to expose goosebumps on your skin. The two of you fell into a shroud of companionable silence and continued to make your way back to the main entrance of the farm. Your heart skipping a helpless beat every time you feel Jungkook’s fingers graze across yours. Your mind hopelessly wanting to believe maybe, just maybe, he was tempted to reach out and hold it. 

You came back to the main farm and found your teacher and classmates impatiently waiting. The immediate shock your teacher showed at your appearance seemed to grow more intense until he came storming over: hysterical at your current condition. 

“What on earth have the two of you been doing?!” 

“They’ve been rolling around with pigs.”

You knew that tart voice anywhere and wasn’t surprised it was Amber that spoke. What did surprise you was how much you didn’t care with Jungkook standing like an equally filthy calm current by your side. 

“We’re sorry, seonsaegnim,” Jungkook began coolly with a bow. When he realized you were still standing a hand shot out to the back of your head to bring it down. You quickly slapped it away but kept yourself in a bow. “We got lost from the group and found ourselves stuck in a giant mud pit.” 

“It seems to me like you were playing in it,” the farmer chuckled. “I could hose them off before they get back on the bus.” 

His offer left heat rising to your cheeks. The sound of a sea of giggles making your stomach ache in embarrassment. You used the curtain of your hair to hide and hoped they’d come up with a different suggestion, but with a small shrug of his shoulder, Jungkook brought your heated attention back to him. A soft smile cracking the now dry handprint you’d left across his cheek. 

It was ridiculous. You both looked ridiculous, and yet, he was still handsome. You probably looked like a troll. 

“Hey Knight in shining armor,” he whispered. “It seems we get to take a bath together.” 

The sun couldn’t be anywhere near as hot as your face felt. The heat spread from red cheeks and down your neck until the butterflies in your stomach were out of control. Jungkook knew what he had done. He could see it plainly on your face and he loved it. 

You, on the other hand, wanted to hit him. 

And just like divine intervention your teacher did it for you. His curled up pamphlet struck down on top of Jungkook’s head, but it only made his smile grow impossibly larger.

“Ya! I don’t think so! We’ll have you go one at a time to clean up. I’ll look for something for you both to change into.”

Jungkook went first to be hosed down. The farmer actually allowed him to have his privacy so he could get into his more...private areas in peace. The clothes that were found for both of you to wear were old gym clothes thrown in a box in the storage bay at the bottom of the bus. You imagined they must have been thrown there for a reason. The colors were sad and faded down to a color that resembled the mud you’d fallen in. An even sadder rim of yellow wrapped around the sleeves the only hope of color in the terrible outfit you were now forced to wear. At least it was warm with the added bonus Jungkook somehow ended up with the shortest shorts in the box. 

After the two of you dried off and changed you were shepherded onto the bus. The place that held Amber and her minions now vacant due to the teacher demanding you sit exactly in the far back in their spot. He must have imagined it would be like putting two naughty kids in time out. The only effect it really had was giving you the chance to breathe and enjoy the solitude. 

Jungkook dug around for your earbuds inside your bag. Finally finding the small container and lifting it open. His fingers pulling out the left and surprising you by placing it gently in your ear. Your face must have shown this but Jungkook paid you no mind. He was busy placing the other bud into his ear; flipping the case shut and throwing it back inside to forever be lost until you practically tipped out your bag to locate it again. Oh well. A problem for another time. 

“Put on something for the ride home, Y/N. I trust you to be dj again.”

You wanted to tease him. To joke about putting on the YMCA or Macarena . The only thing that stopped you was the relaxed features of Jungkook’s face. The lazy way his neck rested back against the seat and his head languidly gazing in your direction. You tried to squish back all the butterflies that look gave you and a hushed, “Alright. Lady Marmalade it is,” embarrassingly came from between your lips. 

Your eyes were too focused on your music list. You didn’t allow them to look as he chuckled beside you. The sound light and rough all at once - demanding you give it attention. 

“Don’t make me regret it,” he joked. 

You kept scrolling until you found Deans’ “D (Half Moon)”. The soft piano and tone of his voice quickly filled the ear buds and by the soft hum of the voice beside you, you knew you’d pick a good one. 

You allowed yourself to relax beside him. Your right hand placing the playlist down between the two of you. Your body was so relaxed you didn’t think about moving your hand anywhere else. Your eyes falling comfortably closed as you continue to listen to the acoustics of the song and the even softer, and equally pleasurable, song of Jungkook singing along. 

When his left hand found its way down beside yours, you didn’t question his reasoning. The music held between the two of you and maybe he wanted to change the playlist. You let your mind continue to think that even after his finger gingerly grazed yours and found a home beside them. Both of your hands stayed this way the entire ride back to campus. Neither of you moved to change positions; lost to the sounds of the melodies of the playlist.

[mrs-gucci]

Adult Swim, Part 2 of 3 {Charlie Barber x virgin!Reader}

author’s notes: hello, hello! happy fourth of july to everyone celebrating. here’s part two of “adult swim” :) things are heating up, y’all!

warnings: smut. some fluff. making out. nose kink oops. over-the-clothes touching & oral (f receiving). handjob. some grinding. thigh-fucking.

(possible) tw’s: age difference. infidelity/extramarital affair. semi-public smut.

table of contents pt. one pt. two * pt. three

my taglist peeps: @frank-and-honey @shygirl268 @icarusinthesea​ ​@gildedstarlight @mrs-zimmerman​ @soldmysoulagain @roseepossee​ @pascalisfairyy​ (if you’d like to be added to or removed from my taglist, the link to the google form is HERE or on the top of my masterlist.)

(can we just take a moment of silence, dedicated to the masterpiece that is adam driver’s/charlie barber’s side profile? *drools*)

July.

You’ve come to dread Fourth of July weekend ever since you became a lifeguard. Although it’s a fun celebration, the pool stayed open much later than normal for the whole weekend, which meant that you had to work longer hours.

Sure, you liked cashing the overtime paycheck, and you always managed to get a few free meals out of the deal thanks to community members, but it was hard work. 

Luckily, this year, you had Charlie to help you through the long days. You couldn’t actually see him, not properly anyway, but he did come over and chat with you a few times for a bit while Nicole watched with a suspicious glare. 

Rain clouds have shrouded the sun’s warm glow and a bolt of lightening streaks across the gray sky, followed by a clap of thunder that rumbles the Earth. Everyone is forced to get out of the pool and sit under the covered patios until the rain and storm have passed over. 

You’re making your way towards the lifeguard’s lounge when a large hand holds your shoulder, effectively stopping you in your tracks. When you turn to look at who the hand is connected to, you smile.

“Mr. Barber.” You say, politely.

He nods. “Coach. Do you need to, uh...check on anything in the storage area?”

The breath catches in your throat as he looks into your eyes, sending a chill down your spine. You know what that look means...

“Now that you mention it, the manager asked me to check on the cleaning supply stock...” You say, a lopsided smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth. “You’re more than welcome to join me, if you’d like.”

He looks over his shoulder, happy to see that Nicole is deep in conversation with a group of other moms. 

“You had me at ‘now that you mention it’, coach.”

The two of you scurry off to the back storage area, which is basically just a cage with a roof, and Charlie immediately pins you against the wall. He kisses your neck while he grinds his pelvis against your lower stomach.

You move to jump up and wrap your legs around his waist, but he stops you. You look up at him with a furrowed brow.

“Wanna fuck your thighs today, coach.” He breathes against your neck. “Turn around and keep your legs together for me, alright?”

Nodding, you flip yourself around so that your front is now pressed up against the cage, making sure to keep your thighs together. You look over your shoulder as he begins untying his swim trunks.

“No peeking, Y/N. You know the rules: you’re not allowed to see me until I spread your legs and take your virginity.”

Your head turns back to its normal position and you hear him stroking himself behind you. You want nothing more than to see his cock, touch it, appreciate it; but alas, he won’t allow it.

His small grunts and groans are more erotic than they ought to be and you can feel the slick beginning to dampen your folds. He's standing at full attention, now, and he takes a step forward to press himself up against you. 

Your breath hitches as his thick length slides between your thighs, earning a small breathy grunt from the large man behind you. He lets out a shaky sigh before drawing back, then snapping his hips forward again.

“O-Oh, coach.” He breathes into your ear, hands planting next to the top of your head on either side. “Thaaaaaat’s good, so good.”

His little grunts and groans are music to your ears and, mixed with the smack-smack-smack of his skin colliding with yours, it’s an erotic symphony.

“We’ve gotta h-hurry. Storm’s gonna pass over s-soon.” You whisper.

Charlie nods, increasing his thrusting rhythm two-fold. He pants into your ear, one hand sliding down from the wall to wrap around your throat. 

“I’m gonna fuck your little virgin cunt so hard.” He growls, reaching down to grab your hip. “Gonna f-fuck you just like this, coach. Right after your pussy stretches out around my cock, I’m gonna fuck you nice and h-hard, make you cum.” 

You moan, biting your lip. “C-Charlie...fuck.”

“Ohhhhhhhhh, Y/N, I’m c-close. Gonna cum--” His hips come to an abrupt halt and he buries his face in the crook of your neck as he cums, a low groan muffled against your skin.

Your head tilts down just in time to see the liquid ropes erupt from between your legs and you can feel the way his length pulses before each rope shoots out.

He’s panting against your neck, planting the occasional open-mouthed kisses on your skin as he catches his breath. Once he regains control of his breathing, he tucks himself back into his swim trunks and turns you around, holding your hips.

“Sorry I didn’t have time to make you cum, coach. I’ll make it up to you next time, I promise.”

You shake your head, smiling up at him. “No apology necessary, Charlie. I still had a good time, regardless. You know I like helping you get off.”

Charlie bends down and presses a kiss to the tip of your nose, laughing softly when your face crinkles up. “You’re the best. Now, you should probably get back out there before anyone gets suspicious. I’ll hang back for a bit, have a cigarette or something.”

“See you soon, C.” You say before heading towards the door.

“You’ve never used that one before, coach.” He says, causing you to turn around.

“Oh, uh, yeah. It just sorta slipped out. Sorry.”

“No need.” His lips tug up into a smile. “I kinda like it.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The union between Charlie and Nicole has been noticeably shaken and strained as of late, you’ve noticed. You wonder if she somehow found out about you and Charlie.

Ever since the first private swim lesson, you and Charlie have been rendezvousing under the starlight on a weekly basis. Sure, there’s been some swimming involved, but it usually doesn’t last very long. He can’t keep his hands off you for more than about fifteen minutes at a time when you’re together.

It’s not just the physical connection; you and Charlie have incredibly compatible personalities, too. You get along really well and there’s a lot of natural chemistry between the two of you. You find yourself counting the minutes until the pool closes on lesson days, count the seconds until Charlie walks through the gate.

Tonight, you’re already in the pool when Charlie arrives, practicing your own technique. He sets his bag down on one of the loungers and watches as you make your way back down the lane in backstroke. He can’t help but look at your breasts, he’s got the perfect angle to look down your suit...

You flip back over and pull the goggles up over your head, smiling as you swim up and pull yourself onto the side of the pool.

“Hey, C.”

He smirks, walking over and jumping into the pool, swimming up to you with just his eyes above the surface. You giggle as he grabs hold of your ankles and lifts them up, forcing your upper body to fall back against the pool deck.

“Good evening, coach.”

His lips kiss and nibble at your ankle bones before trailing up your leg. Your skin erupts in goosebumps as his kisses draw closer and closer to your clothed center, which has already begun to heat up from his actions.

Your eyes never break away from his as he sucks at the tender flesh of your inner thighs, just at the hem of your bathing suit bottoms. You suck in a sharp breath when his nose lightly drags across your crotch, and his eyebrows raise.

“What was that, coach?” He asks, grinning to himself. “Did you...like something that I did, in particular?”

You’ve always sort of had a thing for Charlie’s nose, you have no idea why you found something so not traditionally sexy attractive, but now all you’re thinking about is how lovely it’d feel to have his nose bumping against your clit as he eats you out.

“Um, w-well, I--”

His nose swipes back over your crotch, cutting you off and replacing the rest of your response with a gasp. He grins wickedly.

“Oh, so that’s what you like.” A low chuckle escapes his lips.

He does it again, and again, nose dragging against your damp crotch. You’re practically dripping by now, the feeling and sight of him rubbing against you is simultaneously too much and not enough.

“Charlie...” You breathe, chewing your lip.

His finger comes up and teases your entrance over your suit, pushing some of the fabric in before letting it snap back into place. Your legs instinctively fall open further at his movements, eyes fluttering shut as his mouth hovers over your clothed crotch. 

He looks up at you, then. “You’re gonna cum just like this, coach, or you’re not gonna cum at all. Understood?”

You nod. “Y-Yes, Mr. Barber.”

The formality, the seeming innocence of that name always seems to drive him crazy and he grunts, quickly diving in. The tip of his aquiline nose swipes all around your covered folds while his lips and hot breath teases your center.

You’re embarrassingly close already, both the sights and sensations being created between your legs impossible to resist. You simply can’t bring yourself to peel your eyes away as he continues to bring you closer and closer to a soft release.

“Are you close already?” He asks with a smirk, eyes meeting yours.

Before you can respond, his finger presses up against your entrance, pushing in just a little bit and swirling around. You gasp at the feeling, hips naturally pushing down against him in an attempt to encourage him deeper inside.

“Mmm, look at that. You want to be filled so badly, don’t you, coach?” Charlie says, voice low. “You’re so fucking desperate, trying to impale your little virgin cunt further on my finger. You want someone else’s fingers shoved up your pussy, want to cum on fingers other than your own, isn’t that right?”

You nod, chewing your lip while your hips gyrate against his touch. “Y-Yeah, I want i-it.”

His finger pushes up just a little bit more, bathing suit fabric stretching as it’s shoved up inside your quivering arousal. Your back arches and your breath catches in your throat at his movement, suddenly thrust to the edge of climax.

“Charlie...” You breathe. “Please.”

He grins cockily, circling his fingertip inside you while he mouths at your clit and scrapes his teeth across the clothed bud. You cum only a few moments later, groaning shakily as your hips jerk erratically.

Once you’ve ridden it out completely, Charlie pulls away and covers your inner thighs in kisses. You sit up and run your hands through his hair, smiling down at him. 

“You’re incredible.”

Charlie smiles, tugging your legs, encouraging you into the shallow water. “C’mere, let me kiss you.”

You allow yourself to slide down into the water, reaching up to wrap your arms around the back of his neck as his lips crash down onto yours. His hands grab your ass and pull you against him, a small growl rumbling through his chest when his erection rubs against your lower stomach.

“Let me touch you, C-Charlie.”

His eyebrows raise and he pulls away, looking into your eyes. “You know the rules, kid...”

“I don’t have to see you to make you feel good. I promise I won’t look, I just...I want to t-touch you. I want to make you cum.”

He inhales sharply, biting his lip as he thinks it over. He can’t pretend that he hasn’t wanted this since he first met you, but the thought of not allowing you to see or touch him until he’s ready to take your virginity is incredibly arousing...

“Alright, but you can’t pull me out of my shorts. Got it?”

You nod eagerly, pressing your lips onto his once again. He scoops you up and walks you over to the underwater bench, setting you down gently. His hand cradles the back of your head, cushioning it from the harsh pool ledge as you pull at the tie of his swim trunks.

His jaw clenches tightly and his eyebrows knit when your hand wraps around the base, a shaky breath leaving his flared nostrils. He keeps his forehead pressed against yours as you begin to stroke him slowly, breath hot on your lips.

“I-Is this okay?” You ask quietly.

He simply nods, back hunching and buttocks clenching as his hips begin to thrust forward in time with your pumps. His eyes squeeze shut, growling and mewling softly with each flick of your wrist.

“Ohhhhh god, Y/N, I...it’s b-been a while since someone’s tttttouched me like this. Your little h-hand ffffeels so nice.”

Your lips pull up into a small smile, flattered that he likes your touch so much. You reach up with your spare hand, spreading it out across the back of his head, pulling him down for another kiss.

Charlie fulfills your silent wish, moving his lips against yours. He disconnects a minute later, a line of sweat gathering at his hairline as his thrusts become more and more desperate and full of need.

“J-Jesus, I’m gonna cum s-soon, can’t last a-any longer.” He groans shakily, reaching down to grab your wrist, halting your touches. “Quick, l-lay back on the d-deck.”

You nod, hopping up out of the water and laying back, allowing enough room for him to get on top of you. His hand moves quickly on his cock as he climbs up and positions himself on top of you.

His hand grips your jaw, tilting your head up while he tugs his shorts down enough to expose his pulsing length. He begins grinding his bare cock against the fabric covering your stomach.

“Look at me, Y/N. I’m gonna--fuuuck--gonna c-cover your belly in m-my hot cum, s-stain your fuuucking b-bathing ssssuit. Are y-you ready?”

Right after you nod, his hips suddenly rut roughly against your stomach and he groans loudly, spurts of warm milky seed spreading across your torso. He snarls, grip tightening around your jaw as he cums all over you. His eyes never close or break your gaze, pupils blown wide with lust and arousal.

Seeing Charlie coming undone above you is a sight you make sure to commit to memory, not wanting to forget the way his face contorted in pleasure, the way his hips bucked against you, the sounds that fell from his pillowy lips. 

You’re convinced that there are little other sights more beautiful and erotic than the one you’ve just witnessed.

He lets go of your jaw and tucks himself back into his trunks while his lips leave open-mouthed kisses all over your face and throat. You sigh softly when he pulls away and stands up, already missing his presence on top of you.

“Sorry about the stain.” His eyes dart down to the dark red stain on your suit.

You shake your head, sitting up. “No worries. The chlorine will help.”

Charlie’s eyebrows furrow and you chuckle, standing up in front of him.

“You heard me right, Mr. Barber. I’m swimming along with you tonight. We’ll see how you hold up against a competitor.”

He smirks, reaching around to land a playful swat on your ass. “Try to catch me, coach.”

You gasp as he quickly turns around and leaps into the water, beginning to swim towards the lanes. You laugh, following behind.

“Oh, it is so on!”

⇠previous⇠ ⇢next⇢

[cno-inbminor]

idek sighs -- heed the warnings

domestic bliss + soft to hard dom!akaashi with a senpai kink, dirty talk, praising, some degradation, dumbification/mind break, fingering, unprotected sex, slight size kink if you squint, creampie.

unedited. ~1.7k. i love akaashi, what’s new

akaashi has a crazy schedule sometimes, especially when new seasons are coming around and everyone's absolutely scrambling. it's full of headaches he knew were coming but didn't really want, lots of keeping up with artists and making sure they're still motivated and passionate -- sometimes, he's worried that you'll forget how much he loves you, how his motivation to get his work done asap is so he can come home to you and pass out in your arms, how he might not be showing you all the love and affection in the world but,,

more often than not, he can come home at a reasonable time. you might be cooped up in bed or hunched over your desk, but there's always either takeout or leftovers wrapped up for him in the microwave. he gets to eat while you chat with him across the table with a cup of tea or lemon water, never failing to wrap an arm around your waist when you stand to put his dishes in the sink and tilting his head up as far as he can to lay a thankful peck on your cheek. but most of all, he gets to shower with you.

showers are comfort zones for minds like his, able to tune in to the constant beating of water against the tiles. there's no rush for him to get anywhere (unless he's at forseeable danger of falling asleep and cracking his head open), and more importantly, you're there with him. you two get to stand as close as possible under the shower stream so the stream hits you both (he angles the shower head a little bit more in your direction though). often times, he wraps his limbs around your waist and basks in the feeling of your skin against his, warmth and steam clouding the bathroom. akaashi can take his sweet time laying gentle kisses and nips along your shoulder and neck or staring affectionately into your eyes, no need to ever say anything. adoration, gratitude, disbelief, domestic bliss, all melded together into shining blue orbs. other times, he cradles your neck with his pretty hands and languidly kisses you, sometimes pressing with more force as he focuses on just how soft your lips are, how sensual the glide is and burns his nerves, how lucky he is to give his heart to an angel like you.

he loves you so very, very dearly.

sometimes he misses your soft moans and mewls right in his ear, how misty and hazy your vision and head seems to get in the shower. he was a setter, he was the beacon of control, and loves knowing that his nimble fingers can unravel you as much or as little as he wants, as fast or as painstakingly slow as he demands. there are days when he's too tired to stand under the water stream and sits in the tub instead, pulling you against his chest. the body contact and warmth is needed in the first few minutes when the tiles are still cold and prickling against your skin, but that gives him time to tease and relish in how 100% of your body is so sensitive, just for him. it fires him up like nothing else, and he frequently has to hold back from slipping his fingers inside you and pressing incessantly against the spot that drives you wild.

it's never a surprise to you when these days happen because akaashi always has your vibrator handy, a cute little turquoise g-spot kind -- he is a service dom through and through and his pleasure is mainly derived from pulling you apart and having you tightly clutching his thighs and neck. he starts slow, soft nips into your skin, hands ghosting over your breasts and nipples. you feel the curve of his smirk as they react and harden quickly from his touches, occasionally shivering when a stray water bullet lands harshly on the tip of nerves. "so good for me, love you, princess," he murmurs into your ear and your breath hitches when he rubs slow, gentle circles of your clit. it's just enough to turn your brain into mush, but not enough to be completely satisfied because you want more, always more with this man until you're drunk on nothing but his fingers and tongue and cock.

the swirling in the pit of his stomach growls dangerously because he wants so badly to hear those pleas fall off your tongue, begging and demanding for pleasure that can only be given to you by him and other allowable aids. "be good, use your words for me, mmk? be good for senpai, i know you can, and i'll reward you. don't you want my cock inside you, princess? i know how much you like to be stretched out for me, showing what a good little cock slut you are--"

"keiji, please!" you half sob, half whimper, your hips bucking as he slips two fingers inside you, instantly curling them so he can batter them against your g-spot. the grip of his free arm around your waist is tight and keeps you in place, victim to the toe-curling pleasure your boyfriend never fails to give. "pleasepleaseplease, wan' more, n-need more, please--"

"taught you so well, haven't i?" he groans into your neck, cock painfully hard from how your words wind him up. "all for me, right? hmm?"

"yes, senpai, all for you, promise!" you cry. a small scream echoes through the bathroom as keiji fits a 3rd finger in and you feel that slight, addicting burn, immediately thinking about how good you wanna be for 'kaashi. it's not long before you're creaming and cumming around those appendages, mind going positively blank as you arch your back and twitch as he draws your orgasm out. his praises send you faster down the path of overstimulation, torn between wanting to stop and staying for more. you always end up choosing the latter because how could you say no to senpai?

the whines that leave your body almost has him cum right then and there when he removes his fingers, leaving you dizzy and blissfully aware of how empty you feel at the moment. without inhibitions, you push yourself up and start grasping around for his cock, desperate to be filled once again. akaashi knows what you're going for, helping to readjust so you're both comfortable but hands gripping your waist before you can sink down onto him. "did you forget your manners? what do you ask senpai?"

" 'm sorry senpai," you sniffle and wrack your brains. "c-can i please have your cock inside me, please senpai? wan' it so bad, keiji, so so bad--"

akaashi loosens up lets you slide halfway down his shaft, leaning you back so you're helpless against him. it's enough to have you babble about how big he is, your hand mindlessly laying on top of your abdomen in dazed approximation of how deep he might be. when he feels your gummy walls clench around him, he can't help but thrust the rest of his length inside you, bottoming out and cursing into your shoulder. "fuck, such a good cock slut, taking me so well. senpai's so proud of you, doing so good for me pretty girl, love being inside you--"

"need you to fuck me, s-senpai -- hnng --"

" 'm not fucking you right if you're still talking, hmm? can't have that, now can we?"

it doesn't take much for you to go completely limp, surrendered to his thrusts and battering of your pussy, reaching most of the sensitive spots deep inside that have you shaking and mewling. your pants and nonsensical, broken phrases of how much you love his cock fuel the possessive monster in his gut. his eyes roll back as he relishes in how tight, warm, and soaked you are, eyes catching a glimpse of the ring of cream around the base of his length. he shakily reaches for the vibrator lying innocently on the edge of the tub, thanking waterproof technology as he holds the power button down to turn it on. his thrusts slow down a bit so he can accurately find your clit, and when you squeal into your fist, he pushes down more and falls back into his usual pace.

he counts down in his head, basking in how your walls close down more and more and more until you cum again, upper torso lifting and tensing up in the snap of the coil before collapsing again with the scream of his name in his ear. he holds you down with a large palm on your abdomen, your body fighting against it as you twitch and shake from overstimulation. "love it when you cum on my cock, such a good little fuck toy -- gonna let senpai cum inside you? fill you up? you want it, no?"

"p-please, your cum, wan' it please, wan' your cum so bad," you manage to plead, a shred of clarity miraculously gracing you. a few strokes later and a bite into your shoulder, akaashi spills everything he has. you're so lovely to take it all, and even after he slips out, he knows you're subconsciously doing your best to keep it all inside you. that doesn't stop the tendrils of satisfaction from wrapping around his heart as some cum managers to escape you, allowing the water to wash it down the drain.

aftercare consists of cleaning you up until the hot water runs out, soft and thorough as you come back to him with a bleary smile and lazy kisses. praises and compliments never stop until you're giggling from his cheesiness and you do your best to soap and wash his hair. he does his best to help you out of the bathtub and get you a towel to dry off, hurriedly working on his own body to get back to you. akaashi doesn't move more than 3 feet away from you if he can help it.

and when you're both cuddled in bed, facing each other and hands clasped together, akaashi thinks he has it all because most importantly...

he has you.

[maddiwrites]

The Hybrid (I)

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Summary: The Pogues rekindle their friendship with their old childhood best friend and JJ’s first crush, Y/N. Old feelings resurface for JJ and Y/N, possibly leading to a summer neither one of them could ever forget. Due to past trauma, Y/N is reluctant to let anyone into her heart, but JJ never backs down from a challenge, even if he knows it will come back to haunt him in the end.

Note: Thank you for being patient with me as I slowly write this series. I had this idea a long time ago and I’m not finding motivation to write it but the inspiration comes and go. I smile with every comment that is left on my fics and I’m so grateful for this community. Thank you for letting me pursue my creative writing without judgement. Love you guys! (Also, yes. If you didn’t see my last note, I based YN’s family off of the Gilmore Girls characters. That’s who I picture as them.)

Word Count: 8k

 Masterlist   Prologue 

You wake up to someone falling on your bed next to you with a dramatic sigh. Knowing exactly who it is, you choose to ignore her and try getting back to the dreamless sleep you were peacefully having before you woke up.

That is, until she sighs again. 

You flip onto your back and stare up at your ceiling fan that’s quickly spinning above you. “What, Rory?”

“How did it go with Andre and that boy?”

You look at her with one brow raised. “You woke me up to hear about Andre’s love life? That hardly sounds like you. You don’t care about high school drama or hookups.”

“You’re right,” Rory says. “But I thought I would ease you into what I actually need to tell you.”

You turn on right side and look at your sister confused. “What?”

She sighs. “The cafe’s basement flooded last night. Mom needs us there to help her clean up and take inventory on what’s salvageable.”

You turn back on you backside and close your eyes, exhaling a deep sigh. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Unfortunately not,” Rory says and pats you twice on your covered thigh as she sits up. “Come on. I made you pre-cafe coffee. It’s sitting in the kitchen.”

You throw your sheets off of you and trudge to the bathroom to brush your teeth and clean your face. It’s about 8 a.m. At least you were able to get about six hours of sleep. 

Last night, it was hard to let your brain rest to fall asleep. You kept tossing and turning, thinking about the blonde Pogue who walked you home. You missed how easy it was to talk to someone who you felt truly knew you. Your banter rolled off your tongue easily and you never had to worry about offending him because you knew him like the back of your hand. You knew what he could take and what he couldn't. 

Talking to him brought back childhood memories you had hidden deep in your mind. How JJ would constantly poke you until you ripped into a smile on days that were grey. How you used to steal John B’s bandanas until he was chasing you around his house to get them back. How you would draw a mustache and a unibrow on Pope’s face when he fell asleep by the water. 

Those days felt like they were decades ago. So far away, you didn’t know if you’d be able to reach for them again. If it was even possible to get back. 

You thought about texting him. Thanks for walking me back. We should all get together soon! You had written out. But then you deleted the whole message, telling yourself it was because you didn’t know if he even had the same number. But deep down, you were just afraid of the rejection. 

Its been about three years since the four of you had been together in one place. You don’t know what they’ve been through or if they’ve changed. They for sure as hell don’t know what you’ve been through. You don’t know if they're dynamic has changed. Clearly you and JJ can still joke with each other but what about John B and Pope? You heard about John B’s father disappearing at sea, most people believing he’s dead, but John B holding onto hope that’s he’s alive. You always thought about calling him to reach out and offer your condolences. But for the same reason you didn’t text JJ, you never called. It didn’t feel like your place. They had Kie for that now. A little part of you felt jealous of her, like she had replaced you and any memory of you. She seemed nice, but she wasn’t you.

“Ready?” Rory pops her head in to your room as you slip on a cropped plain white zip up jacket over your cropped black tank. 

“As I’ll ever be,” You say and snag the car keys out of her hands. “Don’t even think about it. I’m driving.”

Rory rolls her eyes. “I want to get there safely.”

“And I want to get there quickly.”

“Fine. But we’re taking my car. It actually has doors.”

For your sixteenth birthday, your grandparents gifted both you and Rory your own individual cars and even let you pick them out. Rory chose a black 2020 Honda Civic for it’s safety features and reputation for longevity as if she was planning on handing it down to her future kids. And you picked out a white 2020 Jeep Wrangler with a hard top that pops off along with the doors for a very open and thrilling ride. Everyone but you called it a death trap, but you found it to be the perfect summer car. 

You park Rory’s boring Honda Civic in the back of the cafe in a lot used specifically for employees. The cafe is already booming with teens and families, waiting for their morning coffees and fresh pastries. Kids your age are running around behind the counter with sweat dripping down their brow bone to get everyone’s orders out in a timely manner. 

In the back of the store, your mom walks up the steps from the basement with two large trash bags and immediately notices the two of you. “Oh good. You’re here. Rory, help the girls behind the counter. The dishwasher’s broken and poor Hailey is hand washing everything. Y/N, come with me downstairs.”

“Why does Rory get the fun job?” You grumble and follow your mom back downstairs after she tosses the two trash bags. 

“Because she’s actually nice to the customers.”

“Treat others how you would like to be treated. Isn’t that what everyone always says?” You smirk. You never agreed with the phrase ‘the customer is always right.’ It’s complete bullshit and being the employee shouldn’t mean letting yourself getting verbally abused by a ‘Karen’ on the other side of the counter. 

The basement is used for the cafe’s storage, lined with wooden shelves Steve put together that hold to go cups, back up espresso machines, boxes of coffee and food and ingredients, etc. Now all the boxes are dark and sopping, creating puddles on the concrete floor. 

“Oh my god. Mom. How did this happen?”

“Jenky water pipe busted in the middle of the night,” Steve walks down the stairs and passes your mom a knowing look. It didn’t surprise you that he was here. He’s the jack of all trades. Owns his own automotive shop, builds a lot of his own furniture, actually cooks a decent meal, and has the same outlook on customer service as you do. He was probably your mom’s first call. “Talked to the plumber. They can’t get here until at least noon.”

“Noon? We’ll be underwater by noon. I might as well turn all my employees into a swim team,” Your mom says.

Steve shakes his head. “I was able to hold the leak until he gets here. You should be fine.”

Steve was the first person that actually helped your mother out when's she moved to the Cut. Six months pregnant, she pushed her car into his automotive shop after it broke down on the side of the road. Their banter was similar to the one you and JJ have. He helped save your mom money by building yours and Rory’s cribs, changing table, and dressers. And ever since, the two of them had been connected by the hip, although they both refuse to admit it. You think the pair are just trying to deny the love they clearly share for each other. And you think the main reason for that is because of the incident four years ago with your mom’s ex boyfriend. No thanks to you.

 “Look at you constantly building your resume,” You smirk at him. 

Steve scoffs. “It’s more than what you’re doing.”

You roll your eyes. Steve is the closest thing you have to a father. He practically helped raise you with your mom. He’s the one you turn to whenever a fight with your mom goes too far, which isn't too often but it happens. He usually lets you stay at his house for the night to let you cool off. But he’ll never sugar coat his advice when it comes time for him to give it. Even if you don’t ask for it. He knows growing up with Rory has been challenging. She was clearly your mom’s favorite, or at least that’s what you thought. She has a 4.0 GPA with a realistic dream to get into Brown University and study journalism. She played by every rule, never got into trouble, and spent most of her free nights getting ahead of her school work or staying late at the cafe with an open book from the library across the street. She was an absolute angel to everyone else, making you look like her evil twin. 

You glare at him before turning to your mom with crossed arms. “What do you want me to do, Mom?”

“Actually honey. Can you go to Heywards and grab more coffee filters and napkins. The water soaked right through the plastic wrapping on our last box.”

You nod, leaving your mom and Steve to clean up the basement themselves. Before heading out, you sneak behind the counter and make yourself a quick coffee to go.

“Where you going?” Rory asks as she reaches behind you to grab a banana for her customer at the register.

“Heywards to grab a couple things for Mom.”

“Oh. Make sure to grab toilet paper while you’re out. I think we’re almost out of it.”

“Got it.” 

Heywards is only a short drive from your mom’s cafe. It’s the closest convenient store that isn’t crazy pricey. It’s where your mom gets all her supplies whenever she runs out of things before shipment gets there. 

You use to always come here when you were younger with the boys, each of you, even Pope, stealing a small bag of chips or a candy bar here and there. Little did any of you know, Mr. Heyward caught your thieving hands every time but never said anything. 

The bell above the door chimes when you walk into the store. You know this place as well as you know the cafe, finding the toilet paper and coffee filter immediately. 

When Mr. Heyward looks up from the counter, his smile grows. He can pick you out of a crowd anywhere, but he hasn’t seen you in a long time. Last time he saw you, you had braces and overgrown bushy brows. Now you had bushed hair and shaved legs. 

“Hi. Mr. Heyward,” You grin shyly at him. You don’t know how he’s going to react to see you, unsure of what Pope might have told him about you. 

“Little Miss Y/L/N? Is that you?” Heyward smiles widely, pulling your own lips into a wider smile. “I haven’t seen you for a long time.”

“Yeah, I’ve been busy with school and my mom’s cafe...” Both of those things were a lie. You just avoid the Cut to avoid the Pogues. 

“How’s the fam?” 

“They’re good,” You say as Heyward hands you your bags. “Mom says hello by the way. I’m actually taking these to her store now.”

“Well, don’t be a stranger. We miss your smiling face around her. Anette, too.” Heyward says, mentioning his wife. 

“Tell her I said hi.”

“Of course, darling.” 

Heyward and Anette always had a special place in their heart for you and Rory. They’re not one for gossip, but they knew a little bit about what your mom’s been through and have heard plenty of stories about your grandparents. They always thought, despite your mom’s background, that you and your sister were raised impressively. Anette always hoped that one day Pope and Rory would get together. Everyone always wanted their child to be with Rory. 

As your about to leave the store, the bell chimes again with another customer. Only it’s not another customer. It’s Pope and John B. They don’t see you at first, and you wonder if maybe you can sneak out without them seeing you. But something about that felt wrong. Especially because Heyward would more than likely mention to them that you were here. 

Pope sees you first and stops in his tracks. “Y/N?” 

“Hey, guys. Long time no see,” You smile at both of them. You bite down on your lip awkwardly when you meet John B’s stare. You don’t know if you should mention anything about his dad’s disappearance. But what would you say? Sorry? What good would that do?

“How’ve you been?” Pope gives you a small side hug, then John B. 

You shrug. “You know, living the dream.”

“How’s life as a Hybrid?” John B smirks. 

You roll your eyes playfully and groan. “Oh god. Never call me that again.”

You may be considered a Hybrid by everyone else, but you would never put yourself into that category. You grew up a Pogue, the same way everyone else did around you. The only thing tying you to the Kooks are your grandparents. 

“Why?” John B smirks. “I wish I was a Hybrid.”

You smirk back. “Maybe you will be one day. I hear you have a Kook of your own for arm candy.”

You saw a faint hint of blush on John B’s cheek at the mention of his girlfriend but you don’t mention it. “Sarah, yeah. She’s not like the other Kooks.”

“I would hope not. Her brother’s a dick.”

“Yeah,” They laugh. 

“We miss you, you know.” John B says. Pope looks at you, trying to read your expression. John B’s not wrong. They do all miss you, especially Pope. He felt like you were the only one who really understood him. Of course his other friends are great, but you actually took the time to try and understand his passions. Like forensic science. 

“I miss you guys too. It’s been a while.”

“Well, hey. We’re actually all getting together tonight at my place. Nothing big. Just a bonfire and a couple beers. You should stop by,” John B says.

“Yeah,” Pope says, immediately getting hopeful that you’ll show up. 

Your smile falters. The invite makes your heart swell and your lungs contract. It’s an invite you’ve been wanting for three years. And now that you have it, you don’t know what to say. It’d be different if it was just the four of you like old times. But now there’s Kie and Sarah and although you have nothing against them, you’re afraid they won’t accept you. The thought of your boys picking them over you terrifies you. 

“Okay. Yeah, sure. I’ll try to swing by later.” 

Pope smiles wide and looks at his friend to see his reaction. John B grins and nods, almost impressed that you had agreed. But he saw the twitch in your lips when the question was asked. 

“Great. I guess we’ll see you later then.” 

You nod. “Okay. Bye guys.”

You suck in a deep breath when the fresh air outside of Heyward’s store brushes over you. Your heart thumps wildly with both excitement and nerves when you’re finally able to collect your thoughts. You don’t know what you’ll do tonight, but the possibilities can change your entire summer.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You spent the rest of the day mopping up the cafe’s basement and rearranging the shelves. You smelled of sweat and coffee grounds by the time you were done and dreamt of the shower you would be taking when you got home. 

Rory drove you home after the two of you closed up the cafe for the day. Neither of you said much. Rory was exhausted from running around behind the counter and you were too busy thinking about whether you’d go back to the place you used to call your second home.

You took a longer shower than usual, still pondering what your night would be like. Your head was telling you to stay home but your heart pulled you in the direction of the Cut. You yearned to hear about what the future held for Pope, and listen to John B retell stories of when you were kids, and be able to stare into JJ’s bright blue eyes without him noticing. 

You changed into a pair of jean shorts and a plain red cropped tank. Rory walks into your room as your brushing out your hair and looks at you as if you lost your mind.

“Are you out of your mind? You can’t wear that,” She says.

You brows scrunch together in confusion. “What are you talking about? I wear shit like this all the time.”

“Not to the Country Club, you don’t.” That’s when it hits you. Today’s been so hectic, you forgot what day it was. “It’s Sunday.”

Sunday dinner at the Country Club is now a weekly commitment forced upon you by your grandparents. Each week, your mom, sister, and you are forced to spend one dinner with your grandma and grandpa. This is basically your mom’s payment back for sending you and Rory to Kook Academy. Only they actually pay for the dinner. It’s usually the longest two hours of your entire week. It’s hard to listen to your grandfather rant about Real Estate and your grandma slyly critique your mother in almost every aspect of her life. 

“Shit. I completely forgot,” You say.

“Well, you better change. We’re leaving in about five minutes,” Rory says then plucks a gold necklace from your dresser. “Oh and can I wear this tonight?”

You sigh. “Sure.”

You change into a baby blue wrap around dress and pin your wet hair into a half up half down due. It’s gonna have to work for the limited time you have to get ready. After applying a thin layer of makeup to look the least bit presentable, you meet your mom and sister by the front door.

“Finally,” Your mom says when she sees you. 

“Sorry. I didn’t realize it was Sunday.”

“It’s okay, honey. I just don’t think I can handle another late remark from Mom today.” She looks you up and down and grins. “You look great.”

Despite the many fiery fights you and your mom can have, she is also your best friend. It’s kind of like a love hate relationship. Steve says it’s because you’re exactly like your mom - almost like a sixteen year old version of her. 

You really hope that isn’t true. You’re not ready to have a kid in two years. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Your grandparents are already sitting at a round table in the corner of the country club by the two tall windows that reach up to the ceiling with a view looking out into the golf course. The best seat in the house for the richest a holes on the island. 

“Lorelai,” Your grandmother grins, but you can instantly tell it’s sarcastic. “Did you have to walk here?”

You speak up before your mom could. “Sorry Grandma. It’s my fault we’re late.”

Your grandparents are hard on your mom but easier on you and Rory, especially Rory.

“Well, you’re here now,” Your grandpa says. He’s usually the mediator between your mom and grandma. Although he’s usually sucks at it. “Sit. Sit.”

Meanwhile, back in the kitchen, JJ shuffles through his many coworkers with his apron in one hand and a piece of fried calamari from Miss Carol’s appetizer in the other. 

“JJ -” She scolds and slaps his hand away from going in for a second piece. 

“Good evening Miss Carol,” JJ smirks and makes his way to the area between the kitchen and dining room where most of the servers and bust boys hang out. Some of the boys slap him on the back or shove him by the shoulder, chuckling to themselves. “What’s going on boys? Busy crowd?”

“What are you doing here? You never work Sundays,” His friend, Mitch, says. 

Luke Maybank was behind on several bills - worse than it’s ever been. They already shut off their electricity and JJ wanted to make sure the water wouldn’t be next. 

But JJ shrugs nonchalantly. “Little extra dough can't hurt.”

“Well, you picked a good day,” Raymond walks up to the blonde, rolling his sleeves. “You got Kook Royalty and their Hybrid offsprings in your section.” 

“What?” JJ looks through the small square Plexiglas on the swinging door. He knows exactly where to look and immediately sees you sitting with King and Queen Kook, looking absolutely miserable, pushing around your food with your fork. 

“Damn, Maybank. Almost broke your neck - you turned so fast.”

“Shut up, Easterling. I was just seeing how crowded we were,” JJ lied. He really just wanted to see if you were here. And now that he sees you are, he’s a little nervous to do his own damn job.

Raymond Easterling chuckles. “Yeah, I know what you were looking at. But don’t get your hopes up. There’s a reason Kooks call that girl the Heart Sucker. Not even the high and powerful JJ Maybank could get a piece of that.”

The guys around JJ and Raymond chuckle and nod in agreement, hearing the stories of how you’d reject every single guy that’s ever asked you out. Sometimes you’d go on a few dates, trying to push yourself out of your comfort zone, but then things would quickly become too much, and you’d get overwhelmed. 

JJ didn’t like the way Raymond talked about you or how the others laughed at your expense. His hands clenched into fists, tempted to throw a punch in Ray’s cocky face.  The guy’s just being a jerk because he’s one of the guys that got rejected by you, he thought. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” JJ shakes his head and ties his apron around his waist to distract his hands.

“No?” Raymond challenges him. “You think I’m wrong? You think you could pull the infamous Hybrid over there?”

JJ glances back through the window. You’re looking at your grandma with a clearly forced grin. You’re twirling your hair between your fingers, a habit you picked up when you were little to do when you’re bored. JJ would find you doing that in school all the time. 

You’re gorgeous, he thought. It’s no wonder that almost every guy on this island has tried to make a pass on you, including JJ himself, but his remarks always come off as playful, afraid of actually telling you how he feels about you. His fantasies about you went further than just getting you between the sheets. He could picture getting married, having children, and growing old together. Years ago, the two of you would talk about your future. Neither one of you cared about money or fancy jobs. All you wanted was to be free - of this island, of each other’s families, of responsibilities placed on you from birth. You hold the same values as JJ, and he’s never met another person like you. 

But JJ has a hard exterior. No one other than his best friends know his true heart, and he wasn’t going to let someone like Raymond Easterling find out about his soft spot for you. He would never hear the end of it.

JJ looks at you one last time. You’re talking to Rory, your face in his direction. This time you’re smiling, probably discussing something other than your grandparent’s expectations of you. He’d kill to see that smile every single day.

What’s the worst that could happen? You reject him? Yeah, that might kill JJ inside, but maybe you’d still be his friend, or continue to be acquaintances like you are now. As long as he gets to see you, he’d be okay. There was always the future. But who knows? Maybe you’d say yes? He’ll never know unless he tries. Right?

JJ fakes the same cocky grin that Raymond wears. “I haven’t failed yet.”

The guys around him whistle and shake their heads with smiles. 

“All right, Maybank. Let’s make a bet. I’ll give you one hundred dollars to get Y/N Y/L/N in the sack by the fourth of July.”

JJ scoffs. “You like giving away free money?” He ignored his racing heart at the thought of being that intimate with you.

Raymond nods. “Okay. Let’s put your money where your mouth is. Get her to say ‘I love you’ by the end of the season and I’ll raise you an extra hundred and cover all your dishwasher shifts in September.”

JJ raises his brows with surprise. No one offers to take the dishwashing shift. Sometimes the boys are pulled back there when the kitchen is short staffed and it’s easily one of the worst jobs at the Club.

This bet was almost too good of an opportunity to pass up. “Deal.” JJ says.

The boys shake hands on it and the other guys whisper to each other about how intrigued they are to see this play out.

JJ wipes his sweaty palms against his apron and pushes the door open to approach your table, hoping he can hear you over his thudding heart. 

“Good evening folks. May I take those empty plates out of your way?”

You look up at the voice you know so well and a smile raises on your lips. JJ meets your eyes and he winks at you, splattering your heart in flutters. 

“Please.” Your grandmother pushes her plate away from her, stuffed with filet and red wine.

“JJ,” Your mom grins up at him. Growing up, your mom always had a soft spot for the blonde Pogue. She’s heard the stories about his father, mostly from Steve, who actually grew up with Luke Maybank, his cousin. As a child, he was sent to live with Luke Maybank and his single father. Lets just say, he’s not surprised by the way Luke turned out. “Look at you. You’re all grown up now. Last time I saw you, Y/N was still pushing your head in the sand for stealing her popsicle.”

“Yeah. I quickly learned no one should mess with Y/N and her food,” JJ says.

“Never stopped you though,” You smirk at him.

“Lorelai. Who is this?” Your grandma asks, disregarding the boy himself.

“Mom,” Lorelai gives her mom a warning look. “This is JJ Maybank. He went to school with Y/N and Rory.” Lorelai knew to play it safe with her wording. She didn’t know where you and JJ stood. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him and she knew better than to ask. 

“Nice to meet you,” JJ says politely. “I’d shake your hand but mine are kinda full.” He motions to the plates in his hand.

“That’s quite all right.” Your grandma’s smile is so forced, it makes you uncomfortable. 

“I won’t hold you up. Has your server been around with the dessert menu?” JJ looks at you. “We have chocolate cake tonight.”

Heat rushes up your neck. Not because of the cake itself but because JJ remembered your favorite dessert. Chocolate cake with chocolate frosting and chocolate sprinkles. It was safe to save you were a choco-holic. The boys use to make it for you every year for your birthday. It usually came out burnt, none of them ever remembering how to properly make it. But it was all you needed to feel like a very special girl. 

“Your favorite,” Rory elbows you.

Your grandma cringes. “Sounds like diabetes on a plate.”

“Mom,” Lorelai scolds. 

“What?” She asks, not understanding the concept of a filter.

Now heat rushes to your cheeks for an entire different reason. “He did. We’re not doing dessert tonight. Thank you, though.”

JJ nods but feels disappointed by the way your face flinched at your grandmother’s comment. 

“My pleasure,” He says like he was taught to do and excuses himself to drop the plates off in the back before he can say anything else that would probably get him fired.

Your mom looks at your with raised brows. “He’s cute, honey.”

“Lorelai, please. He’s the busboy,” Your grandma says.

“He’s a good kid, Mom.”

“If you’ll excuse me,” You stand up. “I have to use the restroom.”

Rory gives you a knowing grin as you walk away from the table. When you walk into the hallway between the dining area and the front lobby, you immediately feel like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. Sometimes just the presence of your grandparents and their pompous judgements can be suffocating. You do your best to bite your tongue around them, excusing yourself when you feel yourself getting heated. 

JJ catches a glimpse of your light blue dress out of the corner of his eye when he rounds the corner to collect the plates off a different table. He looks over his shoulder at Raymond, who’s staring at the blonde watching you, and winks.

“Hey, Y/N,” JJ says, walking up to you.

You look up from your phone and immediately smile. “Hey. I was actually hoping I’d catch you out here.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” You nervously tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. “I’m sorry about my grandmother. She can be...”

JJ shakes his head. “Hey. It’s okay. I work for Kooks almost every single day. I’m use to it.”

You sigh. “That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“Don’t apologize for something you can’t control,” JJ says. “Besides, that’s probably the nicest she’s ever been to me.”

You hide your face in your hands. “Stop. You’re making it worse.”

JJ laughs and takes your wrists in his hands, slowly pulling them away from your face. Your eyes shoot up to his, immediately feeling a tingling feeling run through your skin, straight to your heart. 

“It’s okay. I promise,” He says softly. His voice is so sincere that you have no other option but to believe him. It almost makes your feel guiltier, wondering how much bullshit he’s been through with ungrateful Kooks that it’s so easy for him to forgive and forget.

“Okay,” Your voice is a whisper, taken off guard by how close he is to you and how he still hasn't let go of your hands. 

In that same moment, JJ realizes he’s still holding you and gently removes his hands. He coughs awkwardly and scratches the back of his neck, where sweat begins to bubble. Why is he so nervous?

“So um...” You say, suddenly feeling nervous too. “You going to John B’s tonight?”

JJ’s eyes shoot up in surprise. How did you know that? “Yeah. I’m heading over there after work.”

“I saw him and Pope at Heywards earlier today and they invited me over. I wasn’t sure if I should come or not.”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

Because it’s different now, you wanted to say. But you didn’t because you feel like the elephant in the room would only grow. And you didn’t want to admit you were nervous to meet Kie and Sarah outside of school. 

You shrug. “I don’t know.”

“You should definitely come. The boys miss you.”

You pretend like a little piece of your heart didn’t just break when JJ didn’t say ‘we.’ 

“What time do you get off of work?”

“Around 9ish.”

You nod. “I can pick you up if you’d like and we could go together?”

Your heart races after you suggest it. What if he says no? Why were you feeling this way? This is the same kid you use to make fun of for pouring milk into his bowl before his cereal. 

“Yeah. That’d be perfect.”

“Great!” Your phone pings with a text from Rory, telling you that your grandparents are wondering where you are. “Shit. I have to get back. I’ll see you at nine?”

“See you then,” JJ nods and turns back to the kitchen. When his eyes meet Raymond’s, he’s reminded of what he agreed to. Almost surprised how quickly he forgot about it. You were able to take his mind off of anything without even trying. He clears his throat to get rid of the giddy grin he was wearing after talking to you, wanting to look tough and casual in front of his coworker. “Easy.” He says to him. But that felt anything but easy. He could vomit with nerves.

“There’s still plenty of time for you to screw up, Maybank.”

JJ huffs. He’s not wrong. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

You drive up to the front of the country club and park in front of the main entrance. It’s 8:57. You’re early and will look eager. So you wait until 9:06 to text him that you’re here.

You changed into a pair of dark washed denim shorts, a yellow cropped tube top, a grey flannel, and navy converse. You changed your outfit about four times before deciding on your first one, not wanting to look too casual or too dressed up. 

For the last three years, you wondered when the four of you would get back together as a group. You wondered if it would ever happen. And now that two Kooks are involved, you feel more nervous than excited.

You jump when the passenger seat door opens, lost in the depth of your own head. JJ smiles, not seeing your reaction.”Cool ride,” he says and looks around the interior. 

“Thanks,” you say, pulling out into the road.

“I got you something,” JJ says.

You glance at him with furrowed brows. What could he have possibly gotten you since you saw him last? A book mark from the Country Club’s gift shop?

JJ reaches into his backpack and pulls out a plate with clear wrap around it. Your mouth drops when you see the chocolate cake on a plate in his hands, the smell immediately hitting your nose with pure delight.

“You saved me a piece?” You jump in your seat excitedly.

“Had to hide it good too or else Miss Carol would have had my ass handed to me,” JJ jokes and even pulls out two forks. He undoes the wrapping and cuts off a piece. He waits until you hit a stop sign and says, “Open up.”

You look at him and immediately open your mouth. He gently places the fork between your lips and you take the piece of cake off with your teeth. Like a baby.

Your eyes close with pure pleasure. “Oh my god. That’s amazing.”

“Miss Carol does know how to bake a mean cake,” JJ says and takes a bite of his own.

“Another one,” You say, glancing at the cake again. Like you said, choco-holic. “Please.” You say when JJ teases you by holding the fork away from you.

JJ laughs. “I like hearing you beg.”

You slap him in the arm with the back of your hand. “In your dreams, Maybank.”

“You got that right, Y/L/N.”

The two of you finish the cake with only a few bites each. Small but rich in chocolate that leaves you craving more. You were gonna have to meet this Miss Carol woman. 

After he puts the plate back in his bag, JJ reaches for the aux cord, but you quickly slap his hand away. “Hey. What do you think you’re doing?”

“You’re seriously gonna make me listen to this the entire way to John B’s?”

You scoff. “I’ll have you know Blink-182 is one of my favorite bands.”

“It’s also soccer moms’ favorite band,” JJ laughs at you.

You turn up the volume, blasting ‘All the Small Things’ and point to your ear. “Sorry. Can’t hear you!”

JJ rolls his eyes but laughs along with you, even bopping his head to the beat. You drive with the windows down, dancing and singing along to a bunch of throwback songs with JJ as if the two of you have been doing this forever. 

You pull up to John B’s and park behind his dad’s old van, better known as The Twinkie. When you turn down the music, JJ looks at you with a shake in his head. “Next time, I’m driving.”

“What was wrong with my driving?”

“We’re in the Outer Banks, Sparky, not NASCAR.”

You scoff and follow behind JJ who’s leading the way up John B’s driveway. As you get closer, you smell the smoky scent of a bonfire nearby and eventually hear John B’s laugh mixed in with a female’s. Your smile falters as nerves gather in the pit of your stomach. 

“What’s wrong?” JJ asks.

“Nothing,” You say, but JJ easily catches your lie and gives you a knowing look. “What if they don’t like me?”

“Who? Pope and John B? I’m pretty sure they like you more than me even after three years -”

“Not them, you idiot,” You shove him playfully by the shoulder as you two let yourselves inside. “Sarah and Kie.”

“Don’t you go to school with them?”

“Yeah, but we don’t talk,” You say quietly, not wanting them to hear you.

“Hm.”

“What?” JJ shrugs. “Nothing. I just didn’t think you cared about what other people thought.”

“I don’t,” You say quickly. “But they're your best friends. It’s different.”

“You don’t need their approval. You technically were here first.”

“Yeah, but I’ve been replaced,” You try to say it as a joke and even throw a smirk in there. 

But JJ stops in his track and looks at you seriously. “No one can replace you. Not even if they tried.”

You open your mouth to respond, but you’re at a loss for words. It’s not a common occurrence that JJ gets all serious on you. Warmth covers you like a blanket and the longer he holds your stare, the weaker your knees become. 

“JJ! Is that you?” John B calls out from the backyard.

“Yeah,” JJ yells back. He opens the fridge in John B’s kitchen. “Want a beer?” He offers to you.

You shake your head. “No thanks.”

For the first time, you take in John B’s home. It looks the same as it did three years ago, only a lot messier. The pull out couch looks like its been used recently with blankets and sheets tossed about on it. Empty beer cans and cigarette butts are thrown messily on the coffee tables and the air smells faintly of old marijuana. 

JJ leads you out to the back where four people are gathered around a fire. Three out of the four immediately smile when the two of you approach them, but Kie’s eyes narrow and her head tilts with confusion.

Shit, you think. 

“You came!” Pope laughs and hops up from his beach chair and embraces you in a hug.

You laugh, not expecting the embrace, but welcoming it all the same. John B’s next, giving you a quick hug and shaking his head.

“I gotta say, I didn’t think you were going to come,” John B says.

“You can thank me for that later,” JJ says jokingly.

“Actually when I heard JJ was coming, I almost changed my mind and stayed home,” You joke and smirk JJ’s way.

“Just like old times,” Pope says, looking between you and the blonde. The banter felt like the yall never separated in the first place. 

“Hey, you know Sarah and Kie, right?” John B points to the girls. Sarah stands up to say hi, and eventually Kie follows her, not wanting to look rude, but stays off to the side, keeping her distance.

“Yeah,” You wave awkwardly. 

“Hey!” Sarah says sweetly. “I didn’t realize you guys use to all hang out.”

“Y/N grew up down the street,” JJ explains and sips at his beer. 

“You want a drink or something?” Pope asks you, not knowing JJ already did.

“No thank you,” You say again.

“You don’t drink?” Kie asks. It was the first thing she’s said to you.

“Not usually,” You say and hold her stare. You try to get a read on her, but she’s had to get a tell on. You can’t tell if she just doesn’t like you or just doesn’t know you. Either way, it makes you uneasy. 

“Here, I’ll go grab you a chair,” Pope says and walks to the side of the house to grab another beat up beach chair. 

As the night goes on, you feel the tension in your shoulders loosen and your body feel lighter. Most of the night was spent retelling childhood stories the four of you shared. Sarah would laugh at most of them, occasionally rolling her eyes at her boyfriend from the stupid shit he would do, although it sounds like he’s no different to you now. 

You talked about the time you and JJ stole a golf cart for a joy ride on Figure Eight, or when you and John B pranked Pope by putting a dead fish in his locker, or how you and John B learned how to play guitar from youtube tutorials. 

Midnight came around quickly and exhaustion was slowly taking over your body. It’s been a long day between the cafe flooding, dinner with your grandparents, and now this. 

JJ was the first to notice you slowly fading. 

“You okay?” He asks you quietly as everyone else is caught up in conversation. 

“Yeah,” You say, lazily grinning at him. 

“We can leave if you want,” He says.

“You’re not staying?” You ask. It sounded like everyone was planning to spend the night here. And as much as you wanted to, you just didn’t feel comfortable enough yet. 

JJ shrugs. “My dad’s out of town tonight. It’ll be nice to have the house to myself.” Before you can say anything, he stands and brushes his hands against his pants. “All right, losers. We’re out of here.”

“Aw, you’re leaving?” Sarah pouts.

“Yeah, I’m beat and Y/N’s my ride home,” JJ says.

You were glad he didn’t call you out for being tired. You didn’t want to look lame in front of everybody, especially Kie.

“Thanks for having me,” You say to everyone. It might have been John B’s house, but it was everyone’s night you intruded on.

John B stands up to hug you. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

You nod. “I won’t. I promise.”

Pope hugs you next. “Text me when you get back safe.”

“I will.”

“Bye!” Sarah waves and Kie exhales a ring of smoke from her blunt.

You wave at them before following JJ back to your car. 

“Nuh-uh-uh,” JJ says. You didn’t realize you both walked to the driver’s side.

“What? No.”

JJ nods and holds his hands out for your keys. “I’m not dying tonight.” 

“You’ve been drinking and smoking all night,” You say. You didn’t think JJ was drunk or even that high, but you were not going to let a teenager with an ounce of alcohol in his system get behind the wheel. “Next time. For now, hold on to the cupholder.”

JJ sighs dramatically and goes to the other side of the car and hops in the passenger seat. 

This time you keep the music quiet, listening to the hum of the radio instead of your phone. 

“Take a left,” JJ says.

“JJ, I know where you live. And it’s not left.”

“Don’t you trust me?” 

You snicker. “Not in the slightest.”

JJ rolls his eyes. “Just take the left.”

You hold your hands up in surrender and take the left turn. He directs you for a couple more miles until he has you park in front of a 24 hour diner. 

“What are we doing here?” You ask.

“I’m in the mood for a milkshake.”

“We just had cake!” You say.

“Come on, Sparky. Show me what that mouth can do,” JJ smirks. 

You go to hit him again but he takes off running to the front entrance and pulls the door open. You chase after him, almost running into his back at the front host stand where JJ safely smirks at you in triumph.

“Two please,” He says to the hostess. 

The old cranky woman leads you to a booth off to the side next to a window without a word. 

A couple minutes later, a waitress walks by and asks if you’re ready to order. 

“Yes. One chocolate milkshake and one black and white milkshake,” JJ orders for both of you, already knowing what flavor you’d want.

“And fries, please.” You say. The waitress nods, takes your menus, and walks off. JJ raises his brow at the extra order. “What?” You shrug. “Just showing you what my mouth can do.”

JJ scoffs. “What a tease.” 

You playfully kick his shin under the table.

“Did you have fun tonight?” JJ asks.

“Yeah,” You answer. “Felt like old times. The girls are nice too.”

You were about to only mention Sarah, but you didn’t want to cause any issues with Kie. Not yet at least. Maybe she just needed time to warm up to you.

“See? I told you they wouldn’t bite.”

A couple minutes later, the waitress comes back with your milkshakes and fries. 

“How’s John B doing? You know, with the whole Big John thing?” You ask delicately, unsure of how JJ would react to you pestering about John B’s business. “I didn’t want to ask and bring the mood down,” You explain yourself although you don’t need to.

JJ shrugs. “He’s in denial I think. Won’t sign a death certificate until he sees a body. He could be worse, though.”

“Yeah,” You say softly. You don’t know what you would do if you were in that situation. In a way you felt lucky that you never knew your dad at all. It would be harder to lose him, knowing who he was.

You take a fry and dip it into your milkshake before taking a bite. This makes JJ freeze and look at you like you have two heads. 

“What?” You say with your mouth full.

“I can’t believe you just did that.”

“Don’t knock it till you try it,” You say and give him a look to do it.

JJ reluctantly picks up the fry and dunks it into his milkshake. He looks at the fry questioningly before popping it into his mouth. Somehow the sweetness of the milkshake and the saltiness of the french fry complement each other beautifully and his widen in pleasant surprise. 

“Oh wow,” JJ says.

“Told you,” You smirk.

You spend the next hour catching up, trying to fit the last three years into an hour. JJ does most of the talking because you want to know more about what John B, Pope, and JJ have been up to. Your life was so boring and depressing, you didn’t want to bore JJ with the details.

You drive JJ home and talk for a few minutes more when you park. He seems to be procrastinating getting out of the car, but you don’t mind. You could talk to him all night, suddenly not feeling tired anymore.

“All right. I’ll let you get home before the sun rises,” He says and opens the door. He pauses when his feet hit the ground and he looks back at you. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“I have to work at the shop, why?”

“Well, there’s a storm coming in. John B and I might go out to surf the surge before it hits. You still surf?”

You scoff. “Do I still surf?”

JJ holds his hands up in surrender. “Just checking. You think you can handle the surge?”

“Let’s not forget who the better surfer is, JJ.”

“I didn’t. It’s still me.”

“You wish.”

“So I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Now you have a point to prove. You have to show JJ that you’re still the better surfer. 

“I'll see you tomorrow,” You agree. 

“Great, it’s a date.” He winks and shuts the door before you can tell him otherwise. 

You giggle to yourself as JJ walks up the front yard and stay there until he you see he gets in safely. 

You pull out of the driveway, wishing he had asked you out on a real date. One that didn’t involve John B.

Tag list: @super-funky-bisexual​ @sunsetswithjj​ @moniamaybank​ @throwawayfish​ @poguestyle17​ @5am-cigarette​ @jjpouggues​ @fly-away-from-here​ @buckys2thicc​