#i realized when i read the cover again lol i was like 'this is good but it doesnt quite read like a gibson novel'
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worstdisastermaster · 22 hours ago
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The books and the shows aren't the same thing and?? That's okay?? It doesn't have to be??
Some of the artists haven't even seen the show yet, and maybe won't 🤷‍♀️ I know I've seen like. The 1st episode and that's it lol. And I really enjoyed it and I think it's really fun
But people tend to separate book fandoms from in screen fandoms, to an extent, at least, bc there ARE differences, and THATS OKAY
They are very connected but they are not the same and I don't understand why people find that so hard to accept?? Like. Genuinely I'm so confused lol
Like if someone was being disrespectful, or trying to whitewash Leah or something horrid then like. Defend her!!! (Do try to be polite tho bc people can and often do change, and they know what they have been taught until they learn more- like for example, a few years ago I had no idea ab anything lgtbq and I peob would have gotten myself canceled bc I had. No idea. Ab any of it. And despite having best intentions in heart i totally would have offended someone, and that would have crushed me, because *i didnt know*. I never would have hurt anyone on purpose, i just didnt realize what COULD hurt others on that specific topic, much less why. But now I identify with it and am learning new things ab jt every day and etc. And that's a super touchy topic for a lot of people and for good reason too! Just try to be kind first, then if they are jerks u can be a jerk back lol. Just give peopke a chnace to get better- and then PLEASE dont hold the past against them ubless they very clearly havent changed mk please please please let people grow and change and get better dont crush them before they can) anti Leah trash is. That. Trash
But why would you attack book Annabeth, just for existing? She was my childhood, and I identified a lot with her as I grew up. And guess what! I also identified with Hazel, and I do so even more now! No matter what race she will be casted as, I'm still going to imagine BOOK Hazel the way I always did. Doesn't mean I won't adore her actress, or appreciate art of the girl playing her role! But would you call me racist for drawing her as African American if her actress, was, say, Asian American? Or drawing Leo as Latino instead of Somoan? Because to me, u less I am being a jerk about it, all I'm doing is drawing the book instead of the show. Idk I'm too sleep deprived to put my thoughts into coherent words lol
I love the posts, where it's like, book Annabeth and show Annabeth holding hands. Those posts are my favorite, both because they are freaking adorable, but also. Because it's equal
They are different aspects of the same person
And
Thats
Okay
You know???
I quite literally grew up reading pjo. I read it at least once every year since I learned HOW to read, *partially on pjo*, until late middle school. I was raised on book Annabeth.
Show Annabeth is new and exciting and adorable and I'm so happy for it and I am very excited for all the people being introduced to it!!!!!!!! However, when I'm writing book pjo, I'm not swaping it out for show scenes, bc they are, in fact, different. Which, again, NOT A BAD THING. And you know what? When people from the show fandom write their scenes, they aren't going to be thinking ab the book scenes, and THATS OKAY TOO!!! And I could care less how my readers saw my characters when the read the story. I write them the way I imagine them, but it's their job as the reader to say 'no, actually :P' and swap out the appearance for one they liked better.
I did that plenty often as a kid, and i donf regeret it.
Which, ironically enough, was why my book Percy was blond until ab 6th grads XD I mixed up Luke and Percy's hair description ONCE and just. Never questioned it, though all the rereads, or looking at the covers of the books 💀 you can imagine my shock when I joined the fandom and found out Percy had black hair, instead of sandy hair like, you know, S A N D, like poseidon!!! And now show Percy is blond XD
That just proves people can imagine things how they want and jts okay- especially bc maybe, in an au, they're rifht!!! (Au being show Percy to me)
Anyways I lost my train of thought and it's almost 12 here lolll I hope I didn't say anything ill be embarrassed by come tomorrow~
Good night world :3
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Hi guys, wanted to discuss something going on for a while now. What the hell is wrong with pjotwt? Like...whats wrong with this people? Do you see what they say? What they are even trying to do?
First of all, let me start by speaking about the cast. They are all wonderful children, Leah especially! She is doing an amazing job as Annabeth. But book Annabeth still exists yk? She is and she is literally white. It is not racist. But denying about a character being white in the books, even spreading hate like this...is racist. There are people out there related with Annabeth for years. People love her, every version, maybe book more maybe even the movie. How can you disrespect her like this? And most importantly, how can they attack an artist like this, with an art being so beautiful. What they are trying to do is not protecting Leah, it is spreading hate. It is awful. Making this fandom toxic, so so much.
Them trying to erase book Annabeth because she is white, trying to cover her by painting on her, shaming artists, calling people that loves her racist...What do we do about this in pjo fandom? This fandom used to be so beautiful, but now. This people are not part of the fandom in my eyes, because real fans, would respect every version of the characters, love them with their anything, even flaws. They would protect this characters because they love them, so much. And not to mention this characters are the ones Rick wrote 20 years ago, they were with us for so long.
What do tumblr think about this I wonder? Since pjo fandom is pretty active here :3
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amygdalae · 3 months ago
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Really charmed by this scientist's thought process hoping the marines on his team will beat him up for being a nerd so he won't have to investigate the scary xenomorph-attacked shuttle anymore
(Also I want to clarify, this is William Gibson's unproduced Alien 3 screenplay, but adapted into a novel form by the author Pat Cadigan. Credit where it's due.)
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kooktrash · 5 months ago
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UKIYO ✧ jeon Jungkook
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summary: it’s the start of summer and there’s nothing better than dipping your toes in the sand and falling for a local boy who plays beach volleyball in his free time. he’s charming in a way you’ve never seen and you seem to understand each other better than one could imagine. both stuck in an awkward time of self discovery, you try to live in the moment and forget about your worries till they become too hard to ignore.
The Japanese word ukiyo (pronounced "u-key-yo") means "living in the moment" or "detached from the troubles of life".
✧ genre/au: summer romance, local beach boy!jk x city girl!y/n, [she/her, afab]
✧ 17.7k words
warnings: smut, fluff, ‘coming of age’ but they’re in their twenties, jk falls first. oral [f receiving]. unprotected bc they’re literally on a boat. hair pulling. jk is kinda rich boy. oc seems mean but she’s got mean vibes but just sassy and jk likes it. jk was previously engaged. law student jk. intimate missionary. jk is a volleyball player. think beach town vibes. his ex is kinda stuck up—all his friends are. jk is kinda lovesick puppy who needs aftercare lol
inspired by, Nicholas Sparks’ “The Last Song”
songs: tyrant — coldplay, mind over matter — young the giant, left hands free — alt-j, omg — suki waterhouse, sex drug etc — beach weather
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For a long time, summer was the only thing to look forward to in the year. The days were longer spent outside enjoying time with your friends and letting yourself sleep in until noon. As you grew older with more responsibilities that didn’t suddenly disappear when the temperature grew warmer, you began to lose feelings for the season. It made no difference in your life anymore and you longed for the days it would.
Maybe that’s why it was so easy for you to drop everything and leave your worries behind. A couple months in the sun, no stress, nothing holding you back.
”I still can’t believe I managed to convince you,” Your friend said for the third time in the last hour. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, again, “I still can’t believe it either, don’t make me regret it.”
Hoseok mocked you using a high pitched voice, turning the Jeep Wrangler into the driveway of a modern beach house, “How could you regret these next few weeks waking up to the waves crashing on the shore?”
”What magazine did you read that off of?” Your friend asked from the backseat, laughing to herself at his expense, “I hate when you talk corny.”
”Whatever, you guys are so ungrateful,” Hoseok jokes, pulling the car in ‘park’ and powering the engine off, “Next time I’ll invite someone else to come with—someone who I won't have to beg!”
”Boohoo,” You pretended to whine, getting out of the car and racing to get to your luggage first, “You love begging for me.”
”You wish,” He says with a scoff, “Hurry up and find your rooms, I want to get down to the beach as soon as possible.”
The beach was at its peak time of day where the sun sat the highest and almost every foot of sand was covered with people’s belongings. Not far from shore were rows of volleyball courts and crowds of people watching and as much as you wanted to avoid that busy side, it was the way to the boardwalk. You had no choice but to follow your friends in that direction. They were steps before you, already arguing about which store to go into first or what food stand you’ll go to but you were distracted by the large Ferris wheel in the back.
Maybe your focus should have been on the matches happening all around you but by the time you realized that it was too late. The white ball barely grazed your side when a tall figure headed straight into you with a loud thud.
A low grunt left your lips as you hit the sand with such a force that it physically ached for a moment. Your hands and face were practically covered in sand it was hard to acknowledge whatever gibberish your assailant spat out.
He didn’t have time to get a good look at you as he rushed to his feet, taking your arm and pulling you up abruptly, “Shit, I’m so sorry, I—“
“It’s fine,” your tone came out harsher than expected and it probably had something to do with the guy who loomed over you, and how embarrassed you felt. Up ahead your two friends were barely realizing you weren’t behind them and turning to find you, laughing once they did.
The stranger let his gaze trace over you with sudden curiosity, not at all intimidated by your attempt at a scowl. Now that he was looking at you up close, he had to admit he liked what he saw. He couldn’t help but grin nervously, “I’m sorry.”
His smile made you glare as you dusted sand off your jeans, “Really? I can’t tell.”
“I… it’s just, usually when there’s a ball flying people tend to dodge it,” he was walking backwards now as you tried leaving, he wanted to face you when he talked and it made his cocky smile all the more unbearable. You’ve just met the guy and he hadn’t given the best impression yet. Honestly, you’re just tired from the trip and you’re hungry so you blame that on your mood but you just want to escape this embarrassment of falling.
A scoff left your lips, “Are you saying that this is my fault? Maybe if you all played the game on the court, you wouldn’t have run after it.”
You were giving him attitude and yet he didn’t back down from returning it with a sweet smile.
“Jungkook!” Someone called from behind but the guy didn’t bother to even look back at the paused game. Instead he kept up with you, “You’re right, it’s partially my fault too so how can I make this up to you?”
You stopped walking, looking at him. You didn’t know him and he didn’t know you so there was no need to hold him up from his game any longer, “Don’t worry about it.”
“But I can’t go on like this,” The stranger, Jungkook, said, “Not until I know you’re not mad anymore.”
The way you rolled your eyes excited him in a good way. He wasn’t amusing enough for you and it was rare for him not to be.
“Jungkook! Come on man, the game!”
“Y/n!” Hoseok said loudly, “Hurry up, I���m starving.”
Just like that, the two of you walked away from each other and you had to tell yourself not to look back at him. You didn’t want to catch him doing the same before he went back to playing.
“Are you okay?” Hyeri asked, still laughing lightly, helping you shake off sand, “I was going to help you but then I saw you talking to that hot guy and I didn’t want to intervene.”
“So considerate,” you mumbled sarcastically, trying to hide your smile as you walked the steps up to the pier and forgot about whatever was happening on the sand.
The stranger really was attractive, and if he hadn’t toppled you over like it was nothing you might have stayed a little longer. When you spotted him below you couldn’t help but look him over. He wore a pair of blue and white striped swimming trunks and no shirt which gave you a good look at his muscular back and sleeve of tattoos. Compared to the players around him, he looked noticeably different from the rest and you kind of liked that.
“What are we eating?” You asked your friends who shrugged, still indecisive.
Hours after the sunset and Jungkook’s adrenaline from winning began to slowly settle down, he walked along the boardwalk with his partner. The two of them are trying to waste time for a while before their night plans come along.
“I know Yeaun is around here somewhere and if she’s here then that means Chae-hi isn’t far,” Jimin said looking around the crowded boardwalk while Jungkook followed behind lazily, “Which means a fun night for us so let’s find them.”
He could hear what Jimin was saying but he wasn’t truly listening. His attention had drifted away from the conversation the second he looked to the side and found a familiar silhouette in the distance. Well, not too familiar but he recognized it from when he crashed into you earlier.
You were with your friends at some jewelry stand looking over all the handmade bracelets and necklaces, such a short distance from him. He could easily make it over to you in no time.
“I don’t really want to see Yeaun,” Jungkook said, eyes trained on you. Jimin groaned in response, whipping back to his friend and shaking his head. He followed his line of sight and jumped in front of him.
“No, look over here, we’ve got plans,” Jimin said hoping to pull Jungkook’s attention away from some stranger, “We told Chae-hi and Yeaun we’d met them tonight.”
“No, you have plans, I never agreed to anything,” Jungkook said with a laugh, clearly amused. He tried to see if you were still there but when he looked back you were already walking away.
“Don’t be that way, think about me. Your best friend, who has been trying to get with Chae-hi for weeks now,” Jimin begged, making Jungkook sigh with defeat. He didn’t say anything as he motioned for Jimin to lead the way and went on with his life.
There’s a story about how you found yourself moving into a beach house with your best friends for the summer. The opportunity sort of fell at your feet when Hoseok’s sister had to leave abroad for a couple months because of her job. She lived in a nice house on the beach that would need to be looked after and that’s when she decided to tell her younger brother about it.
Not long after, he came to you and Hyeri and asked if you wanted to join. It took a long time for him to convince you but when you realized how shitty life currently was back home, there was nothing holding you back.
Your first week has been fun getting to enjoy the warm water and sand between your toes. You’ve gotten into a bit of a routine in the area and you’ve begun to familiarize yourself with the roads and places. That’s probably why you were doing Hoseok a favor by helping him out today.
He’s busy taking care of some errands for his sister and asked if you could bring his car into the shop for some maintenance, considering Hyeri liked sleeping past noon, you had no choice but to agree to it all on your own.
“What can we do for you?” A guy in a dark gray button up and oil streaks across his hands asked you once you made it to the auto shop.
“Just an oil change.”
Jungkook had nearly forgotten about his encounter on the beach. There wasn’t much for him to remember anyway and he’s never been the type to hold onto something so meaningless. He carried on with his usual routine and busied himself away at work.
The shop he worked at was busy all of the time and it was a great distraction from whatever else happened in his life so he truly loved it. He loved getting to work with cars and getting his hands dirty. He worked with people he was friends with and sometimes, if he’s really lucky, someone who catches his attention will stagger in.
When he found you standing in the office with his boss signing papers he was visibly taken back. He had been too busy helping Namjoon take a wheel off a black Sedan, to notice when you came in but he was too late now. You were already finishing up whatever you were doing with Jin and leaving.
“I’ll be back,” Jungkook told Namjoon, tossing him the wrench he had been using and heading straight to the front.
You went across the street to the small diner and he had to think about this. Part of him didn’t feel the need to see you again, mostly because he was embarrassed by toppling you over and probably how he sounded. Part of him wanted to ask for your name, apologize and try and see if you’ll talk to him.
“I’m taking an early lunch,” Jungkook told him without much of a car as he hurried to clock out and leave for the diner.
You sat alone in a booth with your laptop open and scrolling through a website filled with job offers. It was partially out of boredom and a reminder that you needed to find somewhere for when you get back home. You could look for something in the field you used to study in but how far could you get with it?
“Excuse me,” he stood in front of you now, “I don’t know if you remember me from a few days ago but—“
“I remember,” you said blandly, looking up at Jungkook with a mixture of boredom and a small hint of possible curiosity. He looked very different with a shirt on, his abs weren’t as distracting but he still had an intimidating build. That’s why his pretty face surprised you under all that sweat and car grease. He was clearly one of the mechanics and has somehow made his way to you.
“Right, uh,” he swooped in to sit across from you, “I wanted to apologize. I didn’t mean to knock you down and sometimes when I’m playing, I kinda get a little too excited so I’m sure I was just talking and talking.”
You’re assuming he meant how he followed after you and smiled so arrogantly when you looked visibly annoyed with him. What you don’t get is why he’s apologizing again, you weren’t still upset over that.
“It’s fine,” you reminded him with a confused look, trying to read what he was really here for, “You work across the street?”
“Yeah, I’m Jungkook,” He finally introduced himself, “I saw you earlier and it was time for lunch so I came to talk to you.”
You didn’t say anything for a while and the silence wasn’t broken until the waitress came and asked what Jungkook would like. He brushed her off with a ‘Whatever she’s having’ and looked at you curiously.
“Okay,” You’re definitely not from around here because he would’ve recognized you so just who are you? He cleared his throat awkwardly, “Um, yknow, usually when someone gives you their name you say yours back.”
“Y/n,” You said distantly, “Can I ask you something?”
“Yes, anything,” Jungkook sat straighter, almost reaching up to fix his hair but stopping himself. He wasn’t nervous or anything but you’re not speaking to him with the same flirtatious tone and it’s confusing him.
“What are some fun things you can do around here other than the usual tourist stuff?” You asked him suddenly, “You are a local, I assume.”
“You assume right,” Jungkook nodded as he bit his lip in thought, “I could always show you better than I can tell you.”
“You’re a funny guy, y’know?” You smiled, “But seriously, what is there to do?”
He’s pretty sure that was just a rejection so it took him a moment to bounce back from it and tried to catch himself from doing it again.
By the time the car was ready, you were paying for your meal and hurrying to leave while Jungkook ate and enjoyed the last of his break. For the rest of the day he found himself thinking about you.
He’s lived a very repetitive and predictable life. Since early childhood he’s had the same classmates and friends, and gone to the same places and events. He’s known the same girls and has hung out with the same people for years. The only time he got any sense of independence is when he was gone for law school but now that he’s done and has returned home for the sake of his family and friends, he’s reminded once again of the repetitiveness.
Maybe that’s why he’s a little excited to meet someone new. He just had a strong feeling that you were more interesting than you let on and he wanted to know more.
He didn’t know that you felt the same and had to ignore these thoughts so you wouldn’t start anything with him. Jungkook was attractive and you’ve moved on from the fall aside from the slight bruising, and you were just trying to enjoy your time. Did you really need to meet someone?
In all honesty, he didn’t seem as arrogant covered in sweat, he looked good and he seemed nice.
But did that mean you wanted to waste your time with him?
It was a crush, nothing but a small, schoolboy crush that occupied his mind from time to time. In all honesty, it was easy to ignore when he got carried away in his day to day life, it’s only when he sees you or you cross his mind for the shortest of seconds, that he finds himself getting lost. He doesn’t care for the girls his best friend likes to hang around, nor does he feel the need to upturn himself out there. Lately, all he’s wanted is to be with someone who makes him forget about himself and maybe he wasn’t looking in the right places if he thought you could help.
It was wishful thinking for him to hold so much thought over a stranger who couldn’t care less to know his name, but that’s what he liked. He wondered when he would run into you again, what he might say in hopes of getting a response and what would happen after that. He even wondered if you’d be at the beach tonight while everyone told ghost stories and drank bottles of Soju one after the other.
What does he say when he finally sees you looking at him?
You spotted him first, hating how much you wanted for him to look up and see you too. He was with his friends and you had no intentions to approach him but… well, he was cute. You can’t act like he isn’t and he’s oddly charming which makes him memorable but it was a bad idea. This trip was meant to be fun with your friends and that’s it—you weren’t going to make time for strangers.
“For once we don’t have to worry about an Uber and can walk our asses home,” Hoseok said standing over a keg, “So I don’t know about you guys, but I’m blacking out tonight.”
”When has anything ever stopped you from accomplishing that?” You asked him, turning your back to the familiar stranger, “You’re never the one ordering it anyway.”
”No, he’s usually the one we’re pushing into the backseat,” Hyeri joined in on the teasing.
“Shh, why do I always feel judged by you two? Is this what friends are for?” Hoseok pretended to be hurt as he filled your cup with beer.
“She’s not from around here, is she?” Jungkook asked as he looked across at you. You haven’t noticed him—he doesn’t think—but he’s noticed you and for some reason that excited him. Well, for one specific reason and it was simply the fact that he likes you. Does he know enough about you to pinpoint this statement? No, but he knows that he feels strange when you’re around. That has to mean something. The longest relationship he’s ever been in was with Yeaun and he doesn’t remember feeling this excited to meet someone.
“How would I know?” Jimin asked when a scoff, barely bothering to look over at you. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes, “You rather think about her than Yeaun? You’re insane.”
“Are you sure it’s Chae-hi you like and not Yeaun? You sure do bring her up around me a lot,” Jungkook rolled his eyes.
“Isn’t it obvious? I want you to get back together with Yeaun so that Chae-hi will think about me instead of her ‘heartbroken’ friend,” Jimin handed him a cup of beer, “Take one for the team.”
“No, I don’t think so,” He chuckled, “We broke up for a reason so don’t push it.”
“Not a good reason,” Jimin mumbled under his breath but Jungkook chose to ignore it.
“There you are,” the devil herself said as she found him, “We were wondering where you two ran off, right?”
“Right,” Chae-hi agreed, “Hi Jimin.”
“So, it’s kind of boring here isn’t it?” Yeaun asked looking at Jungkook for assurance, “Plus all the low lives are starting to come in and I really don’t want to be around any of them. We were wondering if you guys wanted to come back to mine.”
“To do what?” Jimin asked while Jungkook stood back disinterested and distracted. He couldn’t even pretend to be interested when he was focused on someone else entirely.
By pure luck, he looked back to see if you were still standing where you were before and this time you locked eyes with him. Without much care for the conversation he was supposed to be in right now, he walked off while they discussed plans involving a hot tub.
“I’m starting to think you’re following me,” Jungkook first said as you nearly bumped into him in an attempt to get closer to the bonfire. He walked alongside you with ease, “First, on the court, then at my job and now here?”
That made you snort in disbelief, shaking your head and trying not to smile, “Someone seems flattered but I think you have it the wrong way.”
“As in I’m the one doing the most to run into you? No, never,” Jungkook spoke dramatically, “This is all by chance. There’s no way I could’ve seen you from over there and decided to come and talk to you instead. That would make me seem desperate, wouldn’t it?”
“It would,” you agreed, slightly amused now as you broke into a small smile, “I didn’t take you as the type.”
“Well that’s because you haven’t tried to get to know me, I’m honestly a catch,” Jungkook joked lightly, following you where you walked off to, “Or are you scared?”
“Scared? Of what?” You asked, stopping abruptly and turning to face him with furrowed brows. He couldn’t help but smirk, “Oh I don’t know… getting to know someone new. You give me the vibe that you don’t like meeting new people.”
“I love meeting new people,” You exaggerated childishly, “When they don’t fall on top of me.”
“I caught myself, so let’s not lie now,” Jungkook snorted, “Besides, who’s the one who walked into the middle of a game?”
As he said that, the two of you seemed to have drifted far enough from where the fire had been going, that you found yourself not too far from one of the volleyball nets on the shore. Jungkook looked down at you with clear amusement as you looked up at the net and he walked up to the abandoned volleyball that sat in the sand.
“Do you eat, sleep, and breathe volleyball?” You jokingly asked, finally giving Jungkook some response that implied you were interested in him even slightly.
“Only on the weekends, sometimes around noon or after work if I’m free,” Jungkook told you, picking up the ball, “Do you play?”
“No,” you told him as he began to bounce the ball back and forth between his hands. You looked back at your friends who seemed preoccupied with whatever new friends they made for the night.
“It’s easy,” Jungkook said, “There’s really only one basic rule, don’t let the ball touch the ground.”
“Are you giving me a lesson now?” You asked with slight amusement as he moved to the other side of the net, “I’m warning you, I won’t be any good at it.”
“I’ll take it easy on you,” Jungkook tossed the ball your way and although you reached out to hit it, you missed and it landed a few feet behind you. He couldn’t help but laugh, “Okay, maybe you try and throw it.”
“But how do I throw it?” You looked up the tall net wondering how you would make it over. You held it up and tried doing a practice hit while he tried teaching you.
“Just try a simple serve, you can hit it from under or thro—“
“Oh my god,” you broke out into a nervous laugh as Jungkook covered his face with his hand. The ball sat at his feet, completely oblivious to the fact it had just pummeled straight into his face. You covered your mouth in an attempt to stop laughing but you were embarrassed and couldn’t do anything but try and laugh it off, “I’m so sorry.”
“Really? I can’t tell?” Jungkook said sarcastically, sounding eerily similar to you when you first met but still playful. In all honesty, the pain wasn’t too bad but it was humiliating and the only thing he could think about is how you’re trying not to laugh, “You think it’s funny?”
“No! No, I don’t, I just um,” you tried to stop, “I just…”
“You just what?” Jungkook looked at you, slowly making his way to your side and you inadvertently began to step back, worried he might actually be upset, “You like laughing at causing other people pain?”
“Did it actually hurt?” You asked with surprise, still stepping back the closer he got.
“My ego, yeah,” he joked, “And I feel like we need to get even.”
“We did, think about it as me getting back at you for the other day!” You tried to say, feeling the edge of the ride begin to touch your feet the farther you walked from him.
“Really? So this was all part of revenge?” Jungkook asked, “I don’t think so, I suggest you run.”
“What?” You stopped to think, “Jungk—“
And it began. He kicked water at you once the tide was close again and without thinking, you jumped back. You weren’t wearing a bathing suit or anything appropriate for the water so he can’t. You’re in a simple top and flowy, long skirt, not something you wanted wet, “Don’t you dare.”
“Why? Scared of a little water?” He tried to kick water again but this time you moved back in time and he smirked, “It’s better than getting hit in the face. Will you take care of me if I get a concussion?”
You scoffed, laughing, “Don’t you wis—Jungkook!”
He ran after you as you took off in a jog and before he knew it, you were splashing water back at him, not caring about how wet you got. The night was young and you were having a good time, there wasn’t much to worry about other than making sure you got Jungkook before he could get you.
Not far from where the two of you played in the ocean with the moon reflecting against the waves, a few pairs of eyes watched you unimpressed. Jimin didn’t have much to think about the matter, he just couldn’t understand it. Why would Jungkook waste his time on someone he didn’t even know?
Yeaun was right here desperate to have him back and instead he’s wandered off with some stranger acting childish. It doesn’t make sense, and neither does the big grin on Jungkook’s face once he caught you and tackled you into the low tide, both getting drenched in water.
“Jungkook!” He ignored the call of his name as he watched you shake sand out of your hair with curiosity. You looked annoyed even if you smiled and he knows you probably are considering he pushed you into the water but you’re not cussing him out yet. You’re not screaming at him for getting you into the water so maybe it was a good sign.
“Are we even now?” You asked breathlessly as you looked forward to where your friends were and turned away from Jungkook.
“I guess, for now at least,” He teased, walking toward Jimin, “It depends on if I bruise or not.”
“I didn’t hit you that hard,” you scoffed, smiling and shaking your head in disbelief. At some point in your ascend back up the shore, Jungkook got you to finally give him your number. You didn’t question when his friend approached him, going on about something you didn’t bother listening to and turned in search for someone you knew.
“You look like you need a towel,” someone said from your right. It took you a second to realize she was talking to you, much less holding out a clean towel for you.
“Thanks,” you said, trying to wipe off some of the sand with the beach towel the stranger handed to you. Hyeri was off talking with some guy and you had no clue where Hoseok was so as of now, you were on your own here. The girl was pretty and she seemed nice enough so you didn’t mind responding to her approach.
“I’m getting sand all over it,” you tried to make some sort of conversation, “Sorry, I’m Y/n.”
“Don’t even worry about it, I’m Yeaun,” She said with a smile, “You’re not from around here, are you?”
“Is it that obvious?” You asked, laughing lightly. Yeaun just shrugged as she got closer to you, “Not really, but, well… there’s just some people you should always avoid.”
Your brows began to furrow with confusion, “Like?”
“No, I don’t want to start anything,” she shook her head no, “We don’t know each other and you’ll probably think I’m meddling but… okay, Jeon Jungkook.”
You didn’t say anything to that as you tried to get a good look at the girl. Yeaun was pretty with sun-kissed skin and golden hair that shone under the moonlight. She seemed soft and glowed with a brightness that felt contagious but you didn’t know her. You don’t know why she brought up Jungkook or why she even approached you so you had nothing to say back to her.
“I just mean… you’re not from around here and you seem smart,” Yeaun said sympathetically, “Jungkook’s kind of a known player and I don’t want you to fall for his tricks, trust me, he’s not worth it.”
“Trust me, it’s not like that,” you said, suddenly disinterested in conversation with her and more focused on finding your friends, “Thanks for looking out for me though.”
Yeaun watched you walk away and not bother to turn back and she had to leave like it didn’t bother her to be brushed to the side. She can’t tell if you took what she said into consideration or if you couldn’t care less and she didn’t like that. She didn’t like that she didn’t know you and she didn’t know about your relationship with Jungkook or how you know him.
His life was utterly perfect to anyone who thought about it. He had the bestest of friends, the closest family, the most money and a promising future. Everything he had ever wanted was handed right to him and in a sense, it made him arrogant. It was a given that he would end up that way and maybe that’s why he’s always surrounded himself with people of the like. He didn’t despise any of his friends, just sometimes, when he listened to the conversations they would have, he wanted to disagree.
“Yeaun said you’ve been avoiding her,” Jin said as he pulled a golf club out of his bag.
”Great, now you’re talking about her too?” Jungkook asked, lining his club up with a shiny white golf ball, “I already get enough of it from my parents and Jimin.”
“Well yeah, when you suddenly call off a year long engagement with someone you’ve known all your life, people question it,” Jin said, watching Jungkook swing the club back and shoot the ball into the air, “We’re worried about you.”
“Don’t be,” Jungkook mumbled, “Besides, there’s someone else, I don’t know if you know her, her name’s Y/n.”
“Doesn’t ring a bell,” Jin shrugged, moving his visor down to block more of the summer sun out of his eyes. He wore white golfing gloves and a pair of Raybans, making him look straight out of a country club catalog.
Jungkook sighed, growing more restless by the minute. He’s only seen you on few occasions and he’s yet to leave a good impression on you where he can ask for your number or something, “She was hanging out with this guy, I know you know him but I can’t think of his name—you dated his sister.”
“Hoseok?” Jin asked, “I remember hearing about how he was in town. How do you know this isn’t his girlfriend you’re hitting on?”
“It’s not,” Jungkook said, “I don’t think. I don’t know.”
“But what about her?” Jin asked, hopping in the passenger’s side of the golf cart, “You don’t know a thing about the girl but you like her and you’re willing to throw away your future because of it.”
“I’m not throwing anything away,” Jungkook said with a scoff, “But whatever, you don’t get it.”
He spent the evening golfing on a private course not far from the beach where you wandered around with a book in hand.
You enjoyed passing time with your friends but sometimes, you just needed time to yourself and you would find yourself wandering off on your own without much care for anything else. Your friends didn’t mind when you went off and you always made sure to tell them where you would go so there was never any problem. Ever since you got here, you’ve been doing things on your own.
“I knew I would find you around here.”
You didn’t respond at first, still debating if the person was talking to you, but one look up told you he was. Although you wanted to resist the urge to smile, you couldn’t help it.
“Stalker,” You said with a small sigh, closing your book. He didn’t say anything as he took a seat down in the sand next to you. “You’re on my turf, remember? What are you reading by the way?”
You glanced at the cover of your book, “Nothing exciting—how’d you know I was here?”
“I looked for a dark, brooding figure and assumed it was you,” Jungkook joked, “And just an fyi, my face still hurts.”
“I’m sure you've been hit worse,” You said sarcastically, sitting up and watching him get comfortable. He was dressed in a light color linen button up and shorts, the first buttons were undone and a cliche shell necklace sat perfectly against his collarbone. He was attractive and you’ve thought so since the beginning but something was holding you back.
Did you really want to waste your time on a stranger you won’t know in a few months?
“What are you doing tonight?” He asks suddenly.
“Sleeping, hopefully,” you told him, a small smile when you noticed him roll his eyes.
“It’s the summer, the sun’s out, you live on the beach—don’t look at me like that, it’s a small town. Word gets around when a new person shows up,” Jungkook said with a shrug, knowing it’s him who had been asking about you.
“You’re just solidifying my stalker allegations, should I report you?” You asked, laughing slightly.
“I’ll have you know, a lot of people would love to be stalked by me, you should feel flattered,” He nudged your knee with his.
“What? Like it’s hard? Word gets around,” You said to him, “I’ve already been warned about getting too close to you.”
Jungkook let his brows furrow as he took in what you said but it didn’t take long for it to dawn on him. As much as he wanted to act like there was no way his ex girlfriend would approach you, he knew her too well. Who else would talk down on him? Who else would feel threatened when he ignores them? What does she think she gains from telling you to stay away from him? Isn’t it his decision who he approaches and does she think you’re just going to fall in line like everyone else does?
This is the sort of thing that pisses him off. He’s not a bad guy at all, he doesn’t sleep around, he focuses on his goals, he has fun with his friends… so why?
“But if it makes you feel any better, I’m not very good at listening to what I’m told,” You finally said, standing up with your book in hand and pulling the sand-covered towel, “And I’m starving, so where’s a good place to eat around here?”
As much as he wanted to act like the cool guy and seem indifferent, he couldn’t help but break out into a grin. Without wasting another second, he got up and motioned to carry your things, “There’s a good food shack on the boardwalk. I guess I could show you around.”
“If it isn’t too much of a hassle,” You said playfully, handing him your things.
“So, I want to know, what’s a big city girl like yourself doing all the way over here?” He asked on the way up, “Or do you still want to play at being mysterious?”
You rolled your eyes, “I don't usually play games like that, I think you’ve got me confused with someone else. I just don’t talk if I have nothing to say.”
“Interesting take, I personally never know when to shut up,” Jungkook smiled, pointing up to the restaurant and walking in behind you, “But seriously, usually the tourists come to pollute our water and get away.”
“Are you always so observant? You give me the vibe that you like to watch other people,” You told him, sitting down at a high round table across from him.
“And you give me the vibe that you hate talking about yourself. Why else would you avoid every question I ask?” He asked, raising a brow making you scoff but you couldn’t deny it. When the server brought out your menus, she made sure to greet Jungkook like old friends.
“Do you really care to know?” You asked quietly.
“Why else would I ask? I’m not pretending to be interested, if that’s what you think,” Jungkook said honestly.
You didn’t say anything for a moment, looking down at the menu contemplating what to order and what to say, “Things were getting a little too complicated back home and my friend asked if I wanted to pack up my things and follow him down for the summer and I said yes.”
“How broad,” Jungkook said with a small smile, lifting a brow and waiting to see if you would add to it.
“It’s the truth,” you shrugged.
“What was complicated?” Jungkook asked.
He looked amused when you narrowed your eyes in response to his probing. “Adulting.”
“You’ll figure it out,” Jungkook shrugged, waiting for the server to come back to take your orders. He let you order first, watching the server give you a look as she listened and followed after with his own.
“How wise of you to say. What about you?” You asked him, handing the menus back and sliding your drink closer to you.
Jungkook distracted himself playing with the wrapper of his straw and shrugged, “What about me? We’ll get to me when you give me the juicy details.”
You couldn’t help but scoff, looking out the window to the view of the waves crashing against the shore, “What? I told you everything.”
He chuckled, “Barely.”
Rolling your eyes, “Rude.”
“Really?” He asked, biting back a smile.
“No. You’re actually pretty nice,” once again, you sighed, as if admitting that was hard for you.
“Nice? That’s what you tell a guy when you’re going to reject him. I just want to know more about you but there’s not much I can go with. How long are you staying?” Jungkook finally asked you.
“A couple months, are you already dreading it when I leave?” You asked, sounding sarcastic and amused.
“Maybe, you’ve left an impression despite what you might think. Crushing you under my incredible physique was destiny.” He could tell you wanted to laugh but were refusing to do so.
“Corny.”
“Funny.” He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back in his chair and making it known that he was going to wait for you however long it took.
“I had this bad roommate situation I couldn’t take anymore and my lease doesn’t end for another two months so when Hobi asked me to come with I jumped at the chance. I left my job because it’s draining me and I felt useless so I figured it’d be easier to run away to the beach and deal with it all later. Happy? I was honest.” You rushed the words, half-assed the pace.
It was his turn to narrow his eyes suspiciously but gave in, “Content. You’ll figure it out, you don’t seem like the type to wait around for things to fix themselves.”
“Really? Because that feels like what I’m doing right now. I’m all the way over here where I haven’t done anything but run into this strange guy at the beach who I think might be stalking me,” You said, joking at the end.
“No, right now you’re trying to live in the moment, nothing wrong with that,” he chuckled, ignoring your joke.
You don’t remember much of what you said to him but for some reason Jungkook was very easy to talk to. Maybe it’s because you don’t really know him or expect anything from him at all but he got you too open up to him like you’ve known him for years. In reality you didn’t know anything about him or anyone here for that matter.
“Okay, okay, enough about me. It’s your turn,” you had finally said between mouthfuls of whatever the two of you ordered and Jungkook couldn’t avoid it any longer.
“Alright, I’m… also trying to figure things out on my own. I’m used to being with certain people and doing certain things and I don’t know, at one point I kind of got fed up with everything being so predictable. I want to meet people on my own and not because they know who I am or something,” He rushed his words, “If I could, I’d move far away from here but right now I don’t think that’s an option so I settle for next best and stick it out. In all honesty, everything’s kind of been a bore until I met you, you’re different.”
You raised a brow, mirroring his earlier stance and crossing your arms over your chest, unamused, “How?”
He smirked, “I don’t know yet, I can just tell.”
You never believe a guy when he goes on about how different you are from other girls because usually they’re just full of shit. You’re not good at picking the right person so it makes you wary to believe anything he says despite how good he looks saying it.
By the time the bill came, the server made sure to sit it without checking if that’s what either of you wanted but you didn’t hesitate to reach for yours. Jungkook snatched the small slip out of your hand and hurried the server back so he could pay for it in full, giving her a tight smile, “Just one check, thanks.”
“Sure thing,” she said with a light scoff that had you looking after her with furrowed brows. Something about the way she acted left you feeling confused.
“What a good first date.” Jungkook said at the end, walking outside with you.
“This wasn’t a date,” you teased, thanking him for the meal nevertheless, “But I should probably call it a night, y’know.”
“Oh yeah, me too,” Jungkook shrugged “But if you’re not doing anything tomorrow night, we should see each other again.”
“Hm, I’ll think about it,” You said playfully, “If I’m not busy.”
“You won’t be,” He smirked, bumping your shoulder with his as the walk turned bumpy and more trail-like as he walked you home, “But why don’t you give me your number and we can talk about it more on the phone.”
“Hah, smooth guy, aren’t you?” You asked, taking his phone and typing your number in. When you got to the soft trail of greenery and sand that led up to the backyard of the beach house.
“How about we watch the last few minutes of the sun set together,” he reached for your head and stopped you before you could head up the wooden steps.
“How about you don’t kidnap my friend for the whole evening!” Hoseok shouted suddenly, tripping over his own feet as he ran out the sliding glass door that led to the pool deck, “I’ve been worried sick about Y/n.”
“Not true, he’s been sleeping!” Hyeri yelled after him, “But you’re the guy who tackled my best friend on our first day here.”
“My reputation precedes me,” Jungkook held his hands up in surrender, “I’m Jungkook. I was just asking if you guys wanted to join us and watch the sun set.”
“How aesthetic, let me grab some bottles of Soju.”
Your attempt to end your time with Jungkook failed and he seemed pleased with himself for that. He was also polite enough to try and get to know your friends too.
He was having a crisis, he thinks. A real life identity crisis because for the first time in his life he thinks he likes someone—in a way he’s never liked anyone before. It’s pathetic and makes him feel so stupid because he barely knows anything about you but it’s the truth. If anything that’s what makes him like you so much. He likes that he can’t tell what you’ll say or how you’ll react to him, it’s exciting.
He just wants to know if he’s on your mind too.
“We’re still on for this weekend right?”
“What are we doing again?” The road ahead was a scenic path between mountain and sea that led all the way to this private property of his childhood home.
“Chae-hi’s birthday trip.” Jimin spoke from the passenger’s seat of the black pick-up truck his best friend paraded in when he wasn’t on his dirtbike.
“Oh, yeah I’m not going. I was thinking of taking Y/n sailing,” Jungkook said with a small smile, looking sideways, unable to miss the way Jimin stiffened and went silent. He looked back to the road, hand tightening around the steering wheel slightly, “What?”
“Nothing,” Jimin scoffed, looking out the window annoyed now. The drive was silent for a while, nothing but the low sound of music and wind blowing through the topless truck.
“What’s up with you lately?” He finally asked, “You barely know the girl and she’s all you talk about. We’ve had plans to go with everyone.”
By everyone he meant their mutual friends—not just his ex and her friend—which made things worse. He’s known them all for years and it’s hard to see them when he wants to move on and do his own thing. Jungkook tried not to let Jimin’s tone ruin his mood and sighed, “Sorry, man, but I’m not going. Are we playing later or what?”
“You sure you’re not busy with your new friends?” Jimin asked, remembering about the night Jungkook had dinner with you. He tried calling him that night to see if he wanted to go out for drinks just to be rejected because Jungkook was too busy with you and your friends.
Jungkook chuckled, “Don’t be jealous, you’ll always be first in my heart.”
“Oh fuck off,” Jimin rolled his eyes, trying to not sound bitter as he asked, “What’s your girl doing anyway?”
“Y/n’s not my girl—yet, I don’t know. She hasn’t texted back,” Jungkook said worriedly, making Jimin stare at him strangely.
It’s not that he had anything against you personally, he just doesn’t get it. You’re a complete stranger who won’t stick around so why has his best friend chosen to hang out with you so much recently. What did you have over the people he’s known all his life? What do you bring to the table?
What did you gain from being around Jungkook?
You couldn’t explain it either. All you really knew was that a cute guy who sort of annoyed you in the beginning was starting to rub off on you. You’ve come to enjoy running into him and forcing yourself to open up because he’ll listen. It made you feel weird in a good way. You wanted to think about how fun it was to be around him and ignore all the worries you’ve had recently.
Even with your close friends, you’ve long since stopped talking about the people you were interested in. It wasn’t because you didn’t trust them or want their advice but sometimes you didn’t feel the need to say anything—especially if it was harmless fun. That’s why when Hyeri approached you about Jungkook, you weren’t sure what to say.
“It’s no fair,” Hyeri picked through a crate of strawberries, dropping them into a basket, “I wanted to find a little beach boyfriend, why’d you get lucky instead.”
“What are you talking about?” You asked dumbly, following her down the aisle of produce at the farmer’s market.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Hyeri said accusingly, “Jungkook.”
“We’re just hanging out,” You said with a shrug that made her laugh, pushing her sunglasses into her hairline. You knocked against one end of a green watermelon, hoisting it in your hands and continuing past her.
“Right, is that what you called your date the other night? Just a nice early dinner with a hot guy who asked to watch the sunset with you?” She said playfully, “You like him, don’t you.”
“I don’t know him,” You insisted. Yes, you’ve talked a lot with Jungkook recently and you’ve begun to talk about real things in your lives but did that really mean anything? “Besides, in a month and a half I’ll be in my new place settling back into the old routine. It’s just fun hanging out with him, nothing more, it’d be too complicated.”
“Whatever you say,” Hyeri sighed.
You’re lying, obviously you’re lying because you do sort of like him but you didn’t want to think about it. You didn’t want to think about what you could become, you only want to think about now and how things progress. Whatever happens, happens. That’s it. Could you pretend like you have no worries aside from who you’ll run into on the beach instead?
When your phone rang, you knew immediately who it could’ve been and although Hyeri walked ahead, acting like she couldn’t hear it, she was clearly listening. When you answered Jungkook’s call, he was quick to ask about your plans for the upcoming weekend.
“You want to take me sailing?”
Despite the early hours where the sun has yet to shine through, you still couldn’t wrap your mind around it. Even walking along the dock following after Jungkook who led the way through the darkness of the starry sky. “Or are you plotting my murder?”
“Which would you prefer I do?” He asked teasingly, looking back at you with a grin, “But seriously, it’ll be fun.”
Fun wasn’t waking up before the sun did, nor was it following a man you barely know out to the sea. If it weren’t for Hyeri begging you to take up his offer, you wouldn’t be here right now.
The sailing yacht was bigger than you expected with a small cabin area below deck to sleep and wash up in. You’ve never been on a sailboat before but you didn’t think they would look this nice and clean.
“This is yours?” You asked, watching him put in the arm work to undo the rope that tied the boat to the dock.
“Um, yeah,” Jungkook answered blandly, “Kinda?”
“Kinda?”
“Yeah, it’s mine,” he cleared his throat, helping you carry your bag down to the room before bringing you back up to the galley, “I used to be on a sailing team when I was in school and after I graduated I got this for my friends and I.”
“Nice,” You looked around, still in shock at the size of the sails. It was a Beneteau Oceanis 48 with such a sleek, clean look you were scared to sit on any part of it. You wanted to ask how much it was but resisted the urge to, scared you’d sound rude.
Still half asleep, you watched Jungkook set sail behind the wheel, his jacket already off and the sleeves of his linen shirt.
“Sleep a little, we’ve got time,” he said lastly.
It went easy between you two, you felt comfortable and for some reason safe with him enough to letyourself relax around him. You can't remember falling asleep but at some point you had and when you were woken up it was with him dropping anchor in the middle of the open sea.
The waves were calm, breathtaking deep blue and you could see the line of gold separating the ocean from the sky. It was beginning to warm up but you still shivered in your thin sweater, looking up feeling awestruck by the view.
"Look who's finally awake," Jungkook said softly as he secured the wheel and came over to where you sat. He grabbed his jacket — that he had grown too hot for — and placed it over your front. You took in the light scent of his cologne that lingered on the Northface and thanked him, "You said I could sleep."
"I know," he sat across from you, looking at you with a gentle look on his eyes, "I did wake you up pretty early, but look at the view. Do you like it?"
"Yeah, it's nice," You leaned against the edge of the seat, staring down at the dark navy blue water, almost catching your reflection in it. The line of gold was beginning to widen and a circle of light was bouncing off the ocean beautifully. "If you plan on pushing me over the edge, now's the time."
"You're dumb," he laughed, kicking your foot with his playfully. You smiled, trying not to laugh as you looked at him, "Aren't you cold?"
"No, it's hard work getting a sail boat out and I was starting to sweat," Jungkook lifted an arm, flexing it, "But these guns never fail me."
"That's too bad, I was hoping you'd want to keep me warm but I don't want you to overheat," You teased, looking at him invitingly and his eyes shifted to the open space next to you. To set it off, you even winked.
"You know what, now that you mention it, being surrounded by this sea breeze is making me a little chilly," Jungkook pretended to shiver as he got up.
"The sun's rising, I'm sure you'll warm up again really soon," You said as he sat next to you, touching your leg and making you put it on his lap.
"Who knows, I'm suddenly freezing, come closer," he rested his arm on the back of your seat, pulling you onto his lap, "I heard body heat is good to warm up."
"You can always just put your jacket on," You pretended to argue making him roll your eyes, almost sassily.
"But you look so much better in it," He brushed hair out of your face that the wind blew over, finger softly tracing the side of your face.
"I hate to admit this but... you're too good to be true," You said honestly, shifting your gaze away, "Like, too perfect."
"But I'm not," Jungkook argued quietly, "I'm just... I don't know, I'm not acting like myself—or maybe I am and haven't realized it but I think it's you. I want to impress you."
You didn't know how to respond but he didn't mind. He was more focused on the soft glimmer in your eye as you watched the sky turn a powder blue with orange, hearing the seagulls and light whooshing sound of the sails.
It's bad how affected you're leaving him and you don't even know it.
"Y/n," Jungkook tried getting your attention again, leaned his head against your shoulder. You didn't have to say anything to know what he was asking. The first soft brush of his lips against your jaw had you succumbing to his effect. He tilted your chin with the tip of his fingers, catching your lips with his, finally.
How do you describe it?
How do you explain how soft and tender his lips felt? How his fingers grazing your skin sent a shiver down your spine and how he was surprisingly very loving with his affection?
This man who you barely knew and trusted too much was making you melt in his arms, kissing you and making it feel like you've never been kissed before.
"This is bad," he mumbled against your lips, pulling back to catch his breath, eyes still closed, "I really like you."
You gave him one quick peck of a kiss, sitting up, "Tell me all about it then."
Jungkook couldn't he'll but crack a grin, licking the taste of you off his lips. He wouldn't be able to shut up if he did.
You're beautiful, stunning, truly.
Even with your face in sand or your hair a mess, a scowl or pout, just beautiful to him. It was so stupid for him to be swayed by that but it's obviously what pulled him in first.
You were so mean—he thought, at least—but it never stopped him from approaching you. It's like he knew it wasn't your intention to come off so cold and when you'd joke back with him, he could see the hint of mischief in your eyes. It made him want to push your buttons or say something he knew would get a reaction from you.
You're different and he wishes it didn't sound so stupid like he knew you would think if he ever told you but you are. You're like no one he's met—really met, beyond surface level interests or habits. You responded differently, looked at him differently, treated him different.
"I won't shut up if I do," he said honestly, "Can't I just show you, instead?"
"How suggestive," you giggled, letting him kiss you again. There was more force to it this time, like he really meant it. The first one was firm and teasing, really testing the waters when his hand disappeared into your hair to keep you from pulling away.
You were spending the golden hour of the late sunrise with Jungkook sailing on a boat in the ocean. The view was amazing and his lips were so soft.
His lip ring is surprisingly warm when it brushes your lips, and his tongue feels slick against yours. He held you closely making you feel secure and safe [?], and at one point you made it onto his lap, practically straddling him.
You pressed closer to him eagerly and the movement makes his hands travel toward your hips for support, his jacket long forgotten on the floor. The seat was hard underneath him but if he mentioned it you might pull away and that's the last thing he wanted in the moment. Jungkook liked kissing you, he liked feeling your lips trail down his jaw and toward his neck where you didn't shy away from leaving open mouth kissed against his Adam's apple or under his ear.
"Y/n—" his hands circled around you tighter, "Have you gotten a good look at the cabin?"
Your brows furrowed momentarily, looking down the short steps to the cabin door where a big bed was seen through the window, "No, want to show me?"
You began to get up from Jungkook's lap, making his hands slide off down your hip, leading you to the cabin.
Jungkook wasn’t as subtle as he hoped to be when he pressed you into his chest, peppering your shoulder with light and teasing kisses taking you further into the room. A small smile played on your lips when you turned to face him, circling your arms around his neck.
He didn’t question it when you walked him toward the bed instead, making him sit down as you kissed and straddling him once more. You were a good kissed and Jungkook could attest to that by the way your tongue slid between his lips to seek his out. It was a surprise for you to be so forward with him but he wasn’t complaining at all. If anything it made him want to take it further. He wasn’t shy with his touches anymore and you could feel his hands circle down to your butt, pressing you firmly into his lap.
It was hard to ignore his arousal from your simple make-out. It was evident in his shorts and it made you want to keep going. You began to rock your hips against him lightly, feeling his growing bulge apply pressure between your legs.
“Can we get this off?” Jungkook asked about your jacket first, feeling you miles away and when you unzipped it, you pulled off your shirt too leaving him breathless, “You’re bolder than I thought.”
“Is that a bad thing?” You asked, watching his fingers trace down your bare sides, looking at your bra and chest. His finger hooked into the hem of your jeans as if to teasingly ask if they can come off next and you gave him the go ahead, starting to unbutton his shirt for him.
“Never,” he sighed, eyes closing when your hands touched his muscular chest. His hands snuck under her jeans playing with your underwear and grinding your hips against his worn more purpose drawing out a small groan in the process.
When your hips began to move on their own, teasing his aching member, he leaned forward to kiss along your neck, finding your pulse points with ease and reaching behind you for the clasp of your bra to get it off next.
Your arms circled his neck, hugging his head close to feel his lips on your skin and moved your hips with more determined rhythm. You’d be lying if you said his kisses weren’t turning you on and sending shivers down your spine. Jungkook slid your bra off letting it hit the floor while you wrestled his opened shirt off his shoulders and hugged him in a kiss.
“You’re so sexy,” Jungkook whispered, kissing the soft mound of your breasts, “Even when I had you in the ground covered in sand that’s all I could think about.”
“And here I thought it was my personality that drew you in,” You teased, letting him finally turn you on your back beneath him. He pulled your jeans off leaving you in your small slither of panty.
“Trust me, it did,” Jungkook said, kissing along your thighs, “Hurt my feelings that the pretty girl from the beach couldn’t care less about me.”
“A real shot to your ego,” you raised your knees
Jungkook leaned forward to catch your lips in a kiss, hovering over your body, “It really was.”
A small gasp left your lips as you felt his hand trace down the curve of your sides, slipping into your underwear and feeling the soft slope of your nether region. Your thighs parted more, letting his finger tease your clit.
“I wasn’t too impressed in the beginning,” You joked, lifting your hips when you felt his finger begin to feel around your folds, surely finding where the slick began to puddle. He used the wetness to coat your clit, raising a light sigh from your lips there he swallowed in a kiss.
“I’m well aware,” Jungkook whispered against your lips. You rose your hips to meet his hand, finding some stimulation that made your body respond with raise bumps in pleasure, “What about now?”
As he asked, his coated middle finger finally pressed into your wet cunt, with his palm against your clit and grinding into it as he pushed his finger into the hilt. You dug your nails into his tatted forearm to ground yourself against the sudden feeling and holding back the loud moan that almost slipped. He smiled, clearly amused by your reaction. He maneuvered his hand around so his thumb could find your clit and with it covered in your arousal it made the slide so much easier.
Jungkook’s long finger slide into your pussy with slight restriction, curling when he pushed all the way in and finding that sweet spot that had your breath hitching and probing at it. You were at a loss for words and he loved it, it made him want to kiss you as he brought you pleasure with just his hand. He wasn’t even asking for a response anymore, he was just trying to tell you how he’s felt while he makes you feel good on an expensive sail boat in the sea.
The sunrise had long been forgotten and replaced by the thought of how good he made you feel and he was happy about that.
"Oh, fuck." You gasped, gripping his armas he hooks his finger at just the right angle. You didn’t even have to tell him that was the spot that made your toes curl, it’s like he just knew it.
"Like it?" He asked, repeating his previous action, kissing along your neck for added stimulation.
He could feel you on edge of orgasm by the way you pinched his arm but he didn’t care about the slight sting. He cared more for the glazed look in your eyes, walls tightening around his finger.
It’s like he knew exactly when the last push would be, and his pace grew more rough, ready to get you there and finally your body gave way to pleasure.
“Pretty,” Jungkook said softly, feeling your release around his hand, letting you ride out your high and pulling his hand back when you were ready. Your breathing was shallow and the sight of your breasts falling and rising with each breath was hypnotizing. When he pulled back, he couldn’t stand the constriction of his shorts anymore. Without thinking, he licked your release off his hand before yanking his shorts down along with his usual Calvin Kleins.
Jungkook didn’t say he was ready to go further, but you could tell just by the way his cock sprung free from its confines. It was pretty and long, not too think nor skinny and fit his physique perfectly. He stroked himself here and there for some friction but didn’t hurry you along. Instead, he let you catch your breath as he watched in awe at the fact that he had you in bed with him.
“Come here,” you motioned for him to come closer with your index finger and sat up, fully naked before him and getting him in the bed with you. Jungkook followed in a trance, kissing you thoughtlessly and nearly biting your lip in surprise when your fingers touched the tip of his dick, feeling the pre-cum that leaked from the slit.
You barely had your hand wrapped around his pretty cock, giving him a small jerk up his length when his fingers circled around your waist to stop you, “Not tonight.”
You tried to read the expression in his eyes but he just kissed you lovingly, “I want to feel you, all of you.”
“What a giver,” You said playfully, kissing the tip of his nose and laying back with him following after you. He held your legs apart, lining his cock at your entrance, “Can I? I’ll pull out.”
You gave a nod of your head, looking down as his cock pressed forward, aching to feel the tightness of your wet walls hugging him.
You’re not sure what came over you then, but the feel of his dick pushing past your entrance made you feel bold. Your leg hooked around his waist, pulling him forward and watching how his jaw went slack. Jungkook looked down at how eagerly you took him and his arms nearly gave out, eyes rolling as he processed the sudden pleasure.
You still needed a moment to adjust to his size and he practically fused himself to your body, trapping you beneath his muscular figure, “Fuck.”
His movements were slow at first, thrusting gently to find what felt good and what didn’t, running gentle hands over your breasts so he could feel the fullness of them. When he thrusted his hard length in, his thumbs were circled your nipples, pulling his cock out and pinching at them. Something about the leg you had around him drove him wild, feeling your territoriality over him even if there was a chance it meant nothing.
“Jungkook,” you moaned softly at a particularly harsh thrust, scratching at his back unintentionally, “Feels good.”
Something was happening inside of him that he couldn’t explain. He wanted to say things he shouldn’t, things that were too soon to admit and he had to bite his tongue to stop himself. The only other way he could stop himself from sounding like a fool was with his mouth on you and the closest thing to him were your perky nipples.
Jungkook never slowed the steady pace he set fucking you but with the added pleasure to your chest, his tongue circling around your nipple and sucking lightly, had you seeing stars. You’d nearly forgotten where you were till you looked out the windows, seeing the clear sky and the pretty water making this all feel more surreal.
Jungkook hugged you close, hand gripping your thigh and inching it higher around himself as he fucked you rougher, taking pleasure in bringing you close again and this time around he couldn’t bother being as gentle. He wanted to, he swears, but he’s so turned on by you that he couldn’t be patient at all. You didn’t even seem to mind when his hips slammed into yours, turning you to lay on your side, fucking yourself on his cock with more vigor knowing he needed release too, and let him manhandle you however he wanted. His free hand snuck into your hair, pulling slightly when he dragged you into another kiss and groaned against your lips.
Neither of you had to say anything to know you were both close, and it made you impatient. You moaned at the roughness, letting yourself get lost in the feeling unripe you couldn’t take it anymore, once again cumming with little control of yourself. He held you so roughly to his body, not letting you go as you struggled to catch your breath and you knew it was taking everything in him to not let go inside you. That’s the only thing that had you pushing away from him, trying to sneak a hand down to touch him but the second you did, his cock spilled thick cum into your hand, creamy and white. You wanted a taste badly.
Jungkook moaned your name quietly, feeling pathetic to cum so easily by your hand but he couldn’t hold back anymore. It took him longer to bounce back than you, and when he opened his eyes he caught you pressing a finger to your tongue, taking a small taste that left him shuddering.
“Don’t do that,” his voice said, raspy and tired tone.
“You did it to me,” You said, licking your finger clean, “And you made a mess.”
“Sorry,” he couldn’t help but pout, looking surprisingly cute to you even with his hair a sweaty mess and the afterglow of sex on his naked body, “Kiss?”
A grin spreads over his face when you lean in to kiss him, happily kissing you back more gently now.
“Would I sound wimpy if I said I needed a nap?” It pained him to even ask but he was suddenly so tired and relaxed in your arms. It made him feel unmanly to even think to ask but he couldn’t help it, he could lay in bed all day with you if it was an option, “We can worry about breakfast later—perhaps when it’s consider lunch or an afternoon snack.”
You laughed softly, snuggling into him further, “Let me at least clean up a little and then we can sleep for as long as you want.”
Jungkook smiled happily, letting you leave to the bathroom as he hurriedly tugged the bedding off. He wasn’t too worried about the boat, knowing he properly set anchor and the water was calm today. If anything the light rocking of the boat could lull him to sleep if you were in his arms.
“Are you sick of me yet?” Jungkook asked, watching you drift in and out of sleep as he drove away from the shipping dock. It was the evening and the hours spent in the open sun was exhausting, even with how sweet it felt. At least he thinks you might feel that way.
If he were being honest, he could still be with you longer. There hadn’t been enough hours in the day for him, “Or do you think we could still get dinner?”
“We can, but I need a shower, I’m sticky and sweaty,” You said absentmindedly, catching the way he bit his lip with a smirk that had you smacking his arm, “Don’t be gross.”
“I didn’t say anything,” He laughed, grinning as he thought about the way you said his name when you were naked in his arms, “But, I want to take you to my family home. My parents are gone for the weekend and it’s closer than my apartment.”
“Are you hiding your apartment from me?” You asked jokingly.
“No, but I live with Jimin and I want to be selfish and have you to myself longer so your place is out of the question too,” Jungkook admitted.
“And what am I supposed to wear? I didn’t really pack clothes,” You looked down at his linen shirt you currently wore, only panties underneath thinking you’d be going home after the eventful day.
“Something mine, you look good in what’s mine,” Jungkook said with a wink, “I’ll make us something nice—maybe get something ordered…”
“Oh I guess.”
You didn’t question the drive away from the houses lining the beach in his pick up truck. You stared out the window and watched the view turn more scenic would hillsides and small rocky edges, more nature-esque.
Songs played quietly that Jungkook would sometimes hum along too with a perfect pitch that had looking over at him from time to time. When he would catch you looking, he’d stop immediately and tighten his hands over the steering wheel.
He was nervous.
His family home was empty and he could go to it whenever he pleased but did he really want to bring you along? Open up another side of himself just for a few more moments alone? Did you mean this much to him?
Swallowing his nerves, he turned down a private road with tall trees and white gravel. It stretched on for a mile before ending at private gates. You sat up, slightly more aware of what was going on when he lowered his window to type in some code, hearing someone speak through an intercom, ‘Welcome home, sir.’
He could feel your eyes on him and he just smiled, “Wash up first?”
“Please,” You said, looking away, staring straight ahead at the colonial house that appeared in view. It was obscenely large with endless windows and greenery surrounding it making it all the more intimidating.
This is his family home, yours couldn’t compare.
Still, you tried not to question it.
Jungkook didn’t bother driving back to the private garage, he pulled up to the circular driveway by the fountain of a water nymph and got out of his truck, opening the door for you. It should’ve dawned on him that something was going to happen. The lights were on when no one should be home.
Still, he’s already brought you this far.
“Jungkook?”
His hand stopped at the handle of your door, just barely pulling it open but with little room for you to step out. You stopped moving instantly, watching the way he visibly stiffened, face hardening as he looked off to the distance.
“You’re here, what a surprise.”
“Mom,” he turned around immediately, “I thought you guys weren’t home.”
“Well, if you would answer the phone, when I call, you would know your father’s trip was canceled,” a women in a tweed Chanel suit and a tight smile stepped down from the entrance, “You’ve brought company?”
As if being summoned, Jungkook looked at you, motioning for you to step out and although you didn’t want you, you did—undressed and exhausted. The woman was stunning and classy like you’d never seen, somewhat taken back that she was the mother of the beach boy you’ve met.
Not to mention, it was too early to meet anyone’s parents. It made you sick to your stomach even as you smiled politely, “Hello.”
“This is Y/n,” Jungkook reached for your hand, “We were just stopping by.”
“When you thought no one was home?” She asked, making you look at him. He was grown, clearly, but still scolded and questioned like a child.
Jungkook didn’t say anything but you could feel him squeeze your hand when her eyes traveled over your barely dressed figure. He at least had on a t-shirt that was in his truck and his shorts.
“Why don’t the two of you clean up, we’re having dinner on the terrace,” She said looking unimpressed, “I’ll have a maid find you something more appropriate.”
“Oh, we don’t want to bo—“
“We have guests so don’t make a scene, I already had to make an excuse for why you wouldn’t be here, you can’t leave now. Even if you do have sudden company.”
That shut Jungkook up quicker than you’d ever seen. It wasn’t that you couldn’t catch on to what was happening, but more so you could wrap your mind around the reality of it. You moved almost as robotically as he did, sneaking into the house unsure what was going on aside from doing as told. He took you into his bedroom, pulling you in the bathroom with him and washing up. His entire demeanor changed and you didn’t know what to do.
“Should I go? I could probably get Hoseok to get me,” You told him honestly. You weren’t upset — not yet. As far as you knew, Jungkook might have a complicated relationship with his parents meeting the person he’s sleeping with, especially considering how recent things are with you. Neither of you are ready to meet the family, it’s just fun summer things. You’d say the biggest shock was that Jungkook seemed to be wealthy and likes to keep that private but does that make you worried?
“No, I want you here with me,” Jungkook said, swallowing hard and opening the door to his room, finding something folded on the edge of his bed. He handed it to you without much thought as he got dressed.
It was nothing crazy, just a light colored sundress and you had to dry off quickly so you could join him downstairs. Part of you wanted to call your friends but what would it mean if you did?
“What a surprise, brother, and I see you’ve finally brought someone new along,” an arrogant voice spoke up from the large dinner table on the terrace. It was a candle lit dinner with six guests aside from the two of you and you immediately reconciled a familiar face.
“Hello, sorry for keeping everyone waiting,” Jungkook said stiffly, “This is Y/n.”
“We’ve met,” Yeaun said when the others looked at you confused. Their greetings were bland and uncaring but you tried not to think too hard on it, “On the beach, right?”
“Yes, I remember,” You tried to smile, looking at Jungkook just as confused as everyone.
“Yeaun is a family friend,” Jungkook explained to you.
“An ex-fiancée,” His mother said coldly, making him freeze.
Why was she saying this?
“Darling,” an older version of Jungkook with salt and pepper hair said to his wife in warning.
“We’re on good terms though,” Yeaun smiled tightly, “Things have been changing recently, haven’t they?”
She asked you like you would know—like you were the reason for it but you were too stuck on what she was to care.
Ex-what?
“So, are you still going with the firm?” A woman sitting next to his brother said to him. That made his brother laugh, “He’s still playing around Jin’s auto shop.”
“Is everyone already eating? What about us?” Jungkook looked at you suddenly, “Should we get served?”
The firm? What firm? What fiancée? What was going on?
“Y/n, what about you? Are you new in town? Who are your parents?” The dad asked, making all heads turn toward you, a member of who you assumed was house staff, began to serve you and Jungkook dinner.
“Dad,” Jungkook tried to say but he didn’t get very far.
“I’m just here for the summer, I’m from the city,” You told him with a smile.
“How’d you meet?” Jungkook’s mother asked.
“On the beach,” You told her plainly. She didn’t say anything in response but you could feel the way her eyes narrowed at you like she was trying to read you. You weren’t lying or anything but it felt like she didn’t believe you. Under the table, Jungkook’s hand touched your thigh but in all honesty you didn’t even want him to touch you. It’s not anything serious, you were just confused and uncomfortable in this situation. He should’ve just taken you home or let you call Hoseok.
“A city girl, huh? You must have a big job, right? What do you do?” His brother asked.
“I’m in between work right now,” You said honestly, just as you had told Jungkook who seemed to be open to that idea and understood why. Sometimes, doing the same routine in a career you didn’t have passion anymore left you drained and you needed a change of pace. You explained this to him and he made it all feel okay so why were you being looked at strangely?
“So wasting your time over here is what you want to be doing?” His mom asked.
Jungkook took a deep breath, wanting to speak up but unsure how to do so. He obviously hasn’t told you anything but his relationship with his family is complicated. The added guests made it all the worse. Has he always been such a coward?
“That’s what it seems like,” You said bitterly, looking over at Jungkook with a cold expression.
You don’t remember much of the rest of dinner, only that you hated every second of it and how you just wanted to go home. You checked out of all conversations after a while and watched the tension between them with little interest. What you’ve learned is that Jungkook is good at keeping things from others even when he begs to know more himself.
The irony, it was annoying. By the end of dinner, you didn’t care to know what any of them had to say, much less Yeaun who everyone continued to remind you was his ex that they all loved dearly. They were saying it for a reason, like if you wanted to take her place and be with Jungkook who belonged to a group of people who won’t let outsiders in.
“Well at least she’s pretty,” you remember being told.
“I’m sorry,” was the first thing Jungkook said after dinner but you didn’t bother to acknowledge him. Instead, you led the way to his truck so he could take you home.
The car ride was so eerily silent that it felt deafening. He tried and tried to talk to you but you just ignored him, not caring at all for whatever might come out of his mouth and he can’t really blame you.
“You lied to me,” You said finally, staring holes into his dashboard.
“I didn’t mean to,” Jungkook admitted, “Everything I’ve said to you is true.”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes and looking out the dark window, “Just take me home.”
“Y/n,” Jungkook reached across the middle console for your hand but you crossed your arms over your chest and shifted away from him even more, “I’m sorry, we should’ve just gone somewhere el—“
“Look, it was never going to work out anyway so just take me home and we can both go on with our lives because clearly we’re nothing alike at all,” You said bitterly, “I was just dumb enough to believe we are. It’s been a long day.”
He wanted to argue but for the first time since he’s met you, he’s left silent. He’s a coward, he’s aware of that now and it felt sickening to realize it finally. He’s always been the type to do what he’s told, follow the plan his parents have set out for him and this is the first time he’s realizing how much he hates it.
When the truck pulled up to the front of your house, he began to unbuckle his belt, quietly saying, “I’ll walk you to the d—“
The car door slammed shut in the middle of his words and although he knew it was better for him to give you space, he just couldn’t. He couldn’t let you walk off on him without trying to really hear him out—just let him get his thoughts together. As pathetic as it sounds, Jungkook feels like a kid again. He feels anxious to be ignored or scolded.
Without a care for gentleness, he swung his side door open to the large truck and got down to follow after you, “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t realize they would be home and if I did I wouldn’t have invited you over. I just wanted to spend more time with you.”
“That’s not the problem, Jungkook,” you said back to him, “The problem is that you’re so secretive about everything and fine, whatever, you don’t have to tell me but don’t act like you want to know anything about me then if I can’t expect the same.”
You released a sigh at his silence, turning away, “Go home.”
Your front door slammed in his face shutting him out and he could see people staring through the window; probably overhearing everything and he wanted to disappear. When had things gotten so complicated for him?
He missed the days when he didn’t have anything to worry about but now that he’s starting to see the people around him more clearly, he’s realizing he doesn’t like it at all.
It took you days to think about Jungkook again, mostly because you wanted to ignore him and he was making it easy for you. He has only messaged and called a couple times before he got the hint that you don’t want to talk to him and gave up.
You can’t tell if you preferred that or wished he kept trying but you had to move on. The two of you weren’t dating, you hooked up on a boat before realizing his family are pretentious assholes and wanted nothing to do with him now.
You know he’s not his family but at the same time these are people he surrounds himself with and if he was attracted to someone like Yeaun, there was no way he was into you too. You barely know her but you know enough to see that you’re nothing alike.
“What are you looking at?” Hoseok asked, looming over your shoulder.
“Apartments, I still can’t find anything good, I think I need to go home for a few days and do some in-person tours,” You told him with a sigh, scrolling through listings, sitting alone in the beach themed living room that looked fresh out of a cape cod magazine.
“It’s not a quick commute,” He said, “Besides, I already said you can stay with me till we find you a place, there’s no rush.”
“I know, but there’s nothing better to do,” You said with a shrug.
“It’s called avoiding,” Hyeri said, sitting on the edge of the couch, “So Y/n’s probably not gonna come back if she leaves now. You’re mad at Jungkook.”
“No, I’m not,” you rolled your eyes, “That’s over and I haven’t done anything but laze around all day. I need to get my shit together.”
You just want to go home.
“What’s up with you? You’ve looked mad all day,” Jimin pointed out as he mindlessly dug his feet into the sand. He’s dragged Jungkook out after days of not seeing him but his friend couldn’t care less about the beach or hanging out with him. He actually didn't want to hang out with anyone.
“Is it the thing from the other night?” Jimin asked like it was so simple, “Yeaun was talking about it, so you’ve introduced your new girl to the family and it didn’t go so well?”
“Jimin.”
“Yeah?”
“Are you really my friend?” Jungkook asked, sitting at the bottom of one of the net posts, squinting up at the sun.
“Are you kidding? I’ve been around since you were in diapers, you’re like a brother to me,” Jimin said with a laugh, “I just don’t agree with some of the decisions you make.”
“Like?” He pressed for more.
“I don’t know, I just think you have a lot going for you and lately you’ve been acting like you don’t,” Jimin said, shrugging, “You passed the Bar Exam a while ago and instead of going to your dad’s firm you’re wasting time at Jin’s. You don’t answer the phone when your family calls and you ignore your friends for…”
“Say it.”
“For some chick you don’t know,” Jimin scoffed, “I don’t get it. It’s always been you and I, Chaehi and Yeaun. Always. Since we were kids and suddenly you break it off with one of the only girls who’s been here for you and find someone new to entertain yourself with. It’s weird.”
“Asshole,” Jungkook rolled his eyes, kicking off the ground and leaving his friend behind. He wasn’t sure where he was going but he just wanted to be alone.
Were you really just some girl? Is that what everyone thought? Yes, things had been incredibly easy with you but did that mean you weren’t anything more than a fling? As dramatic as it sounds, every interaction with you has been probably the best he’s ever had.
You’re funny, pretty, smart, and so much more than he ever imagined. You pulled him in and pushed him away in the best way possible. Of course it’s been strange getting rejected but you do it in a way that tells him to keep going. You were always there to listen to his obnoxious flirting and when he did decide to tell you anything about himself, you didn’t judge.
He’s so stupid for not doing the same. He wanted you to open up to him because he wanted to get closer to you but he didn’t allow himself to do it too. It was unfair so he understands why you’re mad but he can’t stand it.
He wants to call you but would you want to listen?
Jungkook found himself walking toward the boardwalk hoping the bustling energy from midday was enough to distract him. He thinks you remind him of something different, being somewhere different where he didn’t have to worry so much about what he did or who he was with. Jimin’s right that lately Jungkook hasn’t been doing anything to be apart of his family’s plans for him. He’s kind of been trying to live in the moment and clearly that wasn’t so bad. That’s how he met you and besides, it’s not like he hasn’t been thinking about his future. He just doesn’t see it here in this small town where everyone knows his name. He sees himself somewhere far in the city where he could just blend in with everyone else and do what he wants to do, be with who he wants to. It’s you, it’s seriously you.
You’ve opened up his eyes a little and he hates that his lack of honesty has pushed you away. He can’t even blame it on the uncomfortable dinner because if he wasn’t such a coward, he would’ve done more. He can’t deny that there’s something up with him and he has no doubt in his mind that you have something to do with it. Barely knowing you has done so much more for him than the people he’s known all his life.
Your best friends wanted you to forget about your plans on leaving, knowing you too well to believe you would come back. You’re not the type to do so. If you set your mind on leaving, even for a short time, you wouldn’t come back especially knowing you could run into Jungkook whenever. Maybe you were a coward too because all you ever wanted to do was run away when things get complicated and the last thing you had wanted was for this trip to get that way too.
They dragged you out of the house for a late lunch that you weren’t even hungry for and as a way to distract you but it did the complete opposite of that. Instead, you were brought to that restaurant you came to with Jungkook and the same server who you’ve seen now talk with a girl Yeaun was always around. They were friends and it should’ve been the first sign that you would never get him. You were never part of the plan around here, you were a step back to everyone involved with him and it made you bitter.
How’d you catch the attention of someone so unavailable?
“Come on, I haven’t bought a single thing here, I’ve been too busy working on my tan,” Hyeri said, pulling you along behind her to a clothing stand of sundresses, “We’ve got a few more weeks here, I think it’s time I fit the vibe, right?”
“Yeah,” You told her, looking through the rack of dresses absentmindedly. You wandered away just a little, to a table filled with jewelry and ran your fingers over certain metals and gems. You weren’t thinking much on what was going on around you, too distracted choosing between gold and silver to notice the person standing yards away looking stunned.
For the first time in over a week, Jungkook has found you again, on the beach, looking as breathtaking as usual. After all you’ve been avoiding him, he can’t help but hesitate. Does he approach you or not?
“Y/n?”
You looked up, brows furrowed slightly at who stood in front of you, “Yeaun.”
“Hey! How good to see you,” She smiled her usual tight smile that never quite reached her eyes. Up close you could see just how perfect she must seem to everyone from her height to her figure and tone of voice. She usually wore gold accessories and bikini tops or dresses. She was your perfect ‘Girl Next Door’ but if you paid enough attention to some of the things she said, you’d see how backhanded it all seemed.
“It was such a surprise to see you the other night. I guess none of us knew you were with Jungkook,” Yeaun said it so casually even if you could tell she was prying, “Where is he by the way?”
“Why don’t you ask his mother? The two of you seem close,” You tried not to sound bitter but you’re sure your body language gave away that you were. You searched for Hyeri who was looking at dresses on herself in the mirror and Hoseok left to get snow cones so once again, you were alone in her presence.
“Yeah, sorry about that, our parents go way back,” Yeaun said with a wave of her hand, “It’s a small town, y’know. Everyone knew we were high school sweethearts and when we got engaged everyone was so excited. You can imagine their surprise when we broke it off—sorry, you probably don’t want to hear about this again. I’m sure Jungkook has said enough.”
“It might sound strange but he doesn’t bring you up at all,” You told her, failing to say how you haven’t talked to him, “I guess he got over it a long time before anyone else did.”
“I guess so,” her stupid smile once again, “I like you, you’re good for him and I’m sorry if his family seemed closed off. They’re kind of exclusive with who they bring around. They don’t want just anyone around their sons. I’m sure you can see why, Jungkook is perfect, right? A lawyer in the making, athletic, kind…”
“Silver or gold?” You asked, holding up two different sets of earrings. She blinked in surprise, choosing one and trying to carry on, “What I mean is, he’s the whole package so everyone wants him but he also has a lot of responsibilities. If someone isn’t able to stand behind them all and support him… maybe they’re not the right fit—especially if they won’t stick around.”
You didn’t say anything for a moment, setting the earrings back down and smiling, amused by her audacity, “Who broke it off with who?”
“It was mutual.”
“Doesn’t sound like it was,” You said with a smile, beginning to walk away from her, “But don’t worry, I don’t usually like competing for someone’s attention. I guess I didn’t realize you did, so good luck.”
“Meaning?” Her eyes narrowed.
“Meaning, you’re wasting your breath talking to me because I don’t care what you have to say,” You said sweetly, “But it was so nice seeing you again, hopefully next time we’ll have something new to talk about.”
With that, you left her behind, nearly walking past Hyeri on the way, “Where you going?”
“My phone’s dying, I’m going the house,” you told her quickly, continuing to leave before anyone else could run into you.
“What’d you say to Y/n?” Jungkook asked, pushing his way through the crowds of people, getting to the stand too late and watching you walk away.
“Nothing,” Yeaun raised her hands in feigned surrender, “I was just catching up. Why so worried?”
“Where’s she going?” Jungkook asked Hyeri, ignoring Yeaun who called for him.
“To the house?” Hyeri said, confused by whatever she missed but she couldn’t even ask when Jungkook practically ran after you.
You cut through the beach instead of taking the long route down the street. You walked farther and farther away from him but he never stopped.
“Y/n! Can we talk?” He asks, catching you by surprise but you didn’t even act like it. You merely threw him a glance before walking faster.
“I’m kind of in a hurry,” You lied, stepping over the grassy parts in the white sand where you could see more residential properties.
“Look, I’m sorry. I really am, I should’ve been more up front from the beginning but I swear I didn’t keep things from you to hurt you,” Jungkook said, not stopping his pace even when he can see your house in the distance.
“It’s fine, I’m over it,” You told him, not turning back again as you looked up at the back deck of your house. You still walked closer to down the shore than the trail but you would get there soon.
“But I’m not, I… can’t stand the thought of you being done with me,” Jungkook said honestly, “Since I’ve met you all I can do is think about you and I’m kicking myself over letting you find things out in a hard way. I don’t like the way you were talked to and I should’ve said more but I didn’t and I regret it so much.”
“Jungkook, I don’t care,” you groaned, whipping around to face him, “I don’t care that you kept things from me. I don’t care that there’s something seriously wrong with your family or your ex fiancée. I don’t care if everyone thinks I’m not good enough for you and do you want to know why? Because it’s the summer and I’m not from here and it was fun to fool around in the moment but it’s too complicated now. I don't want anything to do with it. Are you getting it now? I want to go home and forget all about this.”
“You want to leave?” He asked, getting closer and closer, “And what happens then? We just never see each other again because I didn’t mean anything to you?”
“I guess if that’s how you’re seeing it—“
“Bullshit,” He scoffed, “I don’t care how long we’ve known each other or not, you want me just as much as I want you but you’re letting everything else get in the way. I’m sorry, I don’t know what else I can say or do to express that.”
“I’m leaving,” You argued, stepping away, “I’m going back to my normal life and you can go back to yours. Stop making this a bigger deal than it was.”
“What if I don’t want to? What if I think you’re the best thing to happen to me in a while and the thought of you just leaving doesn’t sit right with me? What if I say I don’t want this to just be a summer thing and I will follow you wherever you go if it means I get to talk to you more?” Jungkook kept going.
“Oh my god, Jungkook. Open your eyes! Join the real world, please!” You groaned, too frustrated to bother getting away, “We still don’t know much about each other, clearly. You live in this perfect little bubble with people who care about you and have plans for you. Why can’t you see that? Why are you wanting to throw that away for someone you barely know?”
“I’m not mad, I promise,” You tried to say, “Our lives are just too different and I’m ready to go back to mine—“
Your words were cut off by the rough pull into his arms. Jungkook’s touch was tender yet forceful, dragging your face toward his until your lips clashed messily and you kissed him back. Like a fool, you kissed him too despite everything you were saying.
It made your heart race, practically feeling his want for you and unable to help yourself from succumbing to it.
He can’t remember how long the kiss was, but long enough for his chest to grow heavy with a need to breathe that he had to pull away. His forehead rested against yours, “If you still want to leave… okay. I can’t make you stay but I really want you to, Y/n.”
You didn’t say anything, knowing you did want to leave. At this point it was more for yourself. No matter how harsh they were, they were right. You needed to get your act together and stop avoiding the problems in your life and that meant you needed to go home.
“And I promise that I’m going to see you again whether it be here or somewhere else,” Jungkook said.
FOUR WEEKS LATER
Jungkook was enamored by city life, he’s grown to learn about himself. Something about the tall skyscrapers and bustling traffic excited him like no other while other people hated them. Of course he missed the beach, surfing, volleyball, his friends… but this was for himself. He needed to do something on his own even if it meant doing something unimaginable but it was for the better.
He misses working with cars but he knows better. He put all that work into law school just so he could avoid it and do something else and he needed that to stop. Even if he didn’t work in his father’s firm, that didn’t mean he couldn’t get his foot in the door somewhere else.
After you left and all his distractions were gone, he was able to focus more on what he wanted to do. He got on his laptop to look at internships at other law firms and one day, in his endless searching, he found a small office to work in. It was in the city and it didn’t take him long to pack up his things and go to it. It started problems—of course— but it didn’t stop him, especially knowing you were somewhere here too.
You’ve barely talked since you moved back but he still misses you. He missed you and him on the beach or sailing in the sea. He misses making you laugh or roll your eyes and he wonders how you’re doing. He kept in touch with Hoseok and Hyeri after you left and when they followed suit at the end of vacation, he wanted to ask them about you but he knew better. He knows you weren’t just a fling but maybe one day you’ll come back and give it another shot.
“Iced Americano?”
“I didn’t order one,” Jungkook said as he sat alone at a table in a nice cafe. He didn’t look up until the cup was set down in front of him and when he was ready to tell the barista it wasn’t for him, he froze.
“I know, you don’t really give me ���Coffee Drinker’ vibes but I figured it was worth a shot,” You sat down across from him.
“Are you stalking me?” He asked, dumbfounded and confused but more excited than anything. He couldn’t believe you were here, at the same place as him by chance.
“Well, I was going to ask the same, this is my usual stop before work and I’ve never seen you here before,” You said, continuing the conversation with him like it never ended.
Jungkook couldn’t help but smile, “Well, you see, I’m new to town and trying new places since this is on my way to work.”
“Is it?” You asked, “You must live around here.”
“As it turns out I do,” Jungkook cleared his throat, “It’s a recent move but one I don’t regret.”
“How are you?” You asked with a shy smile and flushed cheeks, the autumn air beginning to take over.
“Better now—after this coffee I mean,” he teased, taking a sip and scrunching his face in disgust.
You bit your lip in thought, “Actually um, it’s good I’ve run into you. I think there’s some things we should talk about but I have to get to work soon.”
“Well I still have your number, and we can always catch up over dinner?”
“Yeah, I’d like that,” You smiled nervously, standing up, “Tonight?”
That made his heart race, “It’s a date.”
::.
holy shit that took forever for me to update
idk how I feel about this but also after a while I think too hard on my work and can’t look at it anymore so please lmk when you think
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nereidprinc3ss · 9 months ago
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light of the morning
in which spencer sneaks into bau!reader's hotel room and they share a little more than just the bed
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: softdom!spence x sub reader, munch!spence, unprotected piv sex (dont do that), creampie (hate that word btw) praise, mentions of having to be quiet because morgan is right next door LOL, fluffy, established co-workers/friends with benefits, soooo idiots in love a/n: here is the promised smut. i am literally kicking my feet and twirling my hair and giggling and blushing at my own writing. I'm gonna have a freak out. requests are open like my legs
It’s late when the knock finally comes. Late enough that you’re dozing on the bed above the covers. 
It takes you a moment to reorient yourself—you’re rubbing your heavy eyes when you finally get the door. 
"Hi."
"Hey," says Spencer, hands awkwardly shoved into his pajama pants pockets. It’s funny, really. He never gets any better at this. 
You step aside and he enters the room, looking around as you close and relock the door. 
"Did I wake you?"
"How could you tell?"
"You’re in pajamas. And you look tired. I mean—you don’t look bad. You never look bad, I just meant… you don’t look tired but you’re not—I didn’t mean to—"
"Relax," you yawn, putting him out of his misery. "I was joking. I know I look tired." You glance at the digital clock on the nightstand. "It’s late. We have to be up early tomorrow."
"Yeah, I got, uh, sidetracked. Sorry."
He was reading. If it was anyone else, you'd be offended--but a sinkhole could open up under Spencer's feet and he probably wouldn't notice if he was absorbed in a book.
You shrug, a knowing smile lifting the corner of your mouth. 
"It’s fine. But I don’t know if tonight is a good night. I really am exhausted."
His eyebrows dart up. 
"That’s fine. That’s totally fine. I’ll just, uh—"
When you don’t move from in front of the door, he pauses, unsure. You bite the inside of your cheek, studying his rangy frame and choice of clothing. Blue pajama pants, slippers, grey CalTech zip up hoodie. It feels wrong to describe a 6'1 man as adorable, but that’s how he looks in his sleep clothes. There’s a very real chance, you find yourself thinking, that you are the only member of the BAU to ever see him in something other than slacks and a button-down. He looks so cozy that you kind of really want him in your bed even if he’s not doing anything but sleeping. The invitation slips out before you can think too hard about it. 
"You could… stay, anyway, if you want?"
His mouth parts slightly, and those eyebrows raise again. There’s a moment of awkward silence and you are very much beginning to regret your offer, wondering if you somehow violated the sanctity of your co-workers/friends with benefits situtationship. Clumsily you try to backtrack. 
"Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, you can—"
"No, no! You didn’t, I just don’t want you to feel obligated to invite me to stay in your room. I’m right across the hall, I can go back if you want me to."
You smile awkwardly, silent relief replacing the brief anxiety. 
"It’s fine. It’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before." And not like you wouldn’t have ended up doing it tonight anyway, if things had gone as originally intended.
He chuckles, looking to the floor and nodding. The blush on his face does not go unnoticed by you. "Fair enough."
It’s incredibly endearing how nervous he still gets after six months of this little arrangement. 
"Do you wanna get your stuff, or…"
"No, that’s okay. I’ll just go back early tomorrow. The chances of someone seeing me leave your room are significantly higher if I do it so soon after entering."
You squint, unable to tell if he’s fucking with you or if that’s an actual statistically sound probability. And then you realize, blissfully, that you don’t really care. 
"Okay, well. Make yourself comfortable. I’m just going to brush my teeth."
Once you’re enclosed in the bathroom, hotel vanity lights blinding you as you brush, you find that there is a jittery sort of apprehension buzzing in your chest. But that’s silly. As you yourself pointed out, the two of you have shared a bed many times over the past few months. But the sleeping together is always a byproduct of the sleeping together. Never have you shared a bed in a completely decent, virtuous, strictly non-sexual manner. It’s always been a matter of convenience—less bother if he doesn’t have to worry about sneaking back into his room in the middle of the night when you’re both exhausted. Or maybe that’s just what you’ve been telling yourselves. 
You rinse your mouth out and exit the bathroom, flicking off the light and finding that Spencer has indeed made himself comfortable. The hotel room is dark and he’s already under the covers, fiddling with his phone. 
"What time should I set the alarm for?" He asks, looking over at you as you crawl into bed, drawing the covers over yourself. "I was thinking 6:23. That should give me enough time to—"
"Sounds perfect," you affirm, wiggling under the blanket as you get comfortable. He schedules the alarm and sets his phone on the bedside table, dousing the room in complete darkness. Your eyes stay open despite, waiting for them to adjust. A few moments of utter silence and stillness pass, and you can tell Spencer is completely stiff next to you. 
"Spencer."
“Yeah,” he answers immediately. Like he’s even more wired about this whole situation than you are. 
"You know you don’t have to avoid touching me at all costs, right? I’m not a leper."
He looses a nervous laugh. 
"I know. We’ve just never really done this."
You frown at the darkness.
"We’ve definitely slept in the same bed before."
"Yeah, but… this feels different."
That, you can’t argue with. Can friends with benefits share a bed just to be near each other? Does that blur some line? And why does it feel more intimate than the sex? 
Screw it. If there is one thing you don’t want your relationship with Spencer to be, it is uncomfortable. Uncertain, you can work with. But not uncomfortable. You reach for him, hand sliding under the duvet—and find his hand already waiting for yours. 
"I don’t think it’s that different," you lie, interlacing your fingers together slowly. 
"Prolonged physical non-sexual contact does have measurable health benefits…" the words are murmured, like the moment is fragile and he doesn’t want to shatter it. 
"Can’t argue with the facts," you breathe, trying to modulate the shakiness of your voice. But you have a feeling you’re doing about as good of a job at concealing your nerves as he is. He shifts.
"Can I…"
"Yeah."
Your heart is pounding as he slips one arm under your neck and the other around your waist, pulling you close. Instinctually you curl into him, slinging your top leg over him as you’ve done before, but always dismissed as post-sex brain chemicals making you feel all warm and fuzzy. A neurological reaction that is so solidly scientific, neither of you ever questioned it. But it feels bigger now. 
He exhales as you settle against each other—a sound of relief that mirrors your own. He’s so warm, so safe as he envelops you, physically and sensorially. In such close proximity, so clear-headed, you notice each layer of his scent. Toothpaste, lavender, vetiver, detergent. You sort of feel like a creep, but you can’t deny how comforting it is. Nor can you deny the pirouette your heart does when he begins minutely rubbing your back, like he’s not even thinking about it. 
"Goodnight," you whisper into his shirt. 
"Goodnight," he whispers back. 
You fall asleep pretty quickly after that. 
------------------------------
It’s unclear what wakes you up—maybe it’s the blue-grey dawn light filtering in through the filthy window (doubtful, it’s still mostly dark) or maybe it’s the blinking green digital clock on the nightstand. 5:02 AM. Your alarm will go off in an hour and 21 minutes.
Sometime in the night you shifted, turning over in your sleep, but Spencer is still holding you close. The arm slung so casually over your waist is slightly domineering, but you manage to rotate again and face him once more. Mere inches away from his face you can see every detail. His expression is so peaceful, it makes your heart ache. 
But you’re just friends. 
Perhaps he felt you moving, because his eyes flutter open and you watch as they flood with consciousness. He takes you in, takes in his arm over your waist. For a split second you’re nervous he’ll pull away. 
"What time is it?" His voice is scratchy with sleep. 
"Five."
"Why are you awake? We have over an hour til the alarm goes off."
"Sometimes waking up early is okay."
His eyes flicker between your own, and momentarily you’re paralyzed as you realize this is a limbo state for the two of you in which you’ve never operated. You don’t know what’s acceptable. You don’t know what to do. Being close to him feels so good, that the idea of separating hurts. But you don’t want to make him uncomfortable, or—
He leans forward and kisses you softly. In the blue light of dawn, rather than frenzied and hidden in the dark, a desperate tear of clothes and teeth and hands—it’s almost freeing. All the anxiety you were feeling just seconds ago begins to melt. 
Friends. 
"You looked anxious," is his whispered answer after he pulls away a moment later, like a kiss is the simplest remedy in the world. He brushes a lock of hair behind your ear. "We should go back to sleep."
"I don’t want to go back to sleep."
The corner of his mouth twitches as he studies you.  
"No? What do you want?"
Emboldened by your mutual indiscretion, it’s your turn to kiss him. You feel him smile against your lips, hand finding the back of your neck and raking up through your hair to pull you closer. 
The delirium of sleep seems to have softened you, filed down the rough edges of your boundaries and kicked away the lines in the sand. What’s a kiss or two when you’ve just woken up? A small, innocuous display of affection while you’re still barely conscious. Nobody could fault either of you for that. People don’t think clearly when they’ve just been asleep.
So what if your lips part against his, and his other hand finds its way under your shirt to stroke the bare skin of your waist and hips? So what if you hitch that leg over him again and press closer?
Spencer breaks the kiss, still ghosting over your lips. 
"I thought it wasn’t a good night?"
"It’s not night time anymore, is it, genius?"
You sneak another kiss, nipping his bottom lip gently as you pull away. 
Instead of whatever array of responses you were expecting, Spencer smiles slightly, eyes almost sparkling in the faint light. The hand on your hip moves to your face, gently thumbing across your cheek. He begins to say something, and stops himself—biting his lip to hold back the words. 
"What?" you ask, heart dropping. Illusion fracturing. 
"I was just—" he begins, pausing for a moment before the words all come out in a rush. "I was just going to tell you how beautiful you are, but I don’t know if that’s something I should say, or if it would feel too… I don’t know…"
He trails off. A rare instance in which he doesn’t have the words. 
You do. Intimate. Real. Romantic. And he’s right, it does feel too much like all of those things. But that doesn’t mean you don’t like it, perhaps more than is strictly good for you. 
"It’s fine. Thank you."
He continues chewing on his lip for a moment. 
"Did I just ruin the mood?"
"No," you laugh, "not at all."
"Thank god," he sighs, surging forward again. 
"Since when do you thank god?" You manage between kisses. 
He moves to press his lips to your jaw and down your neck. 
"Do you want me to talk about the historical and cultural transition of religious expressions into ubiquitous secular colloquialisms right now?"
"Kind of," you breathe.
"No you don’t," he murmurs against your neck as his hands find the hem of your shirt. "You want me to take your clothes off."
Well, he’s not wrong there. 
You help him tug the shirt over your head before leaning back into the pillows as he situates himself over you and lavishes more kisses down your neck and collarbones, pausing to suck a mark only when he knows it’s low enough to be covered by your clothing later. 
You gasp when his lips brush over your nipple, before running his tongue over the sensitive skin. He glances up at you, and though his mouth is occupied, you can see the humor in his eyes. He loves how sensitive you are—how easy it is to get a reaction out of you. 
Of course, you continue to prove him right when he takes the other into his mouth, trying to hold back your little whimpers as he darts his tongue over the peak. Maybe somebody else wouldn’t hear them, but Spencer does. He’s hyper attuned to the sounds you make. Something of a catalogue has begun to form in the back of his mind; he knows exactly what each noise means and how to get them out of you. 
Once satisfied, he moves to press a kiss to your sternum. 
"You’re gonna be quiet for me, right?" Another kiss above your bellybutton. "Because Morgan is sleeping right on the other side of that wall, and we don’t want to wake him up."
"I’ll be quiet," you promise, somewhat breathlessly. Spencer’s mouth trails lower until he’s pulling your shorts down your legs, leaving you completely naked. He tosses them somewhere on the floor and hooks your legs over his shoulders. 
"Good." He plants one last kiss to your thigh and the next one lands right between your legs. 
You regret the need to be silent almost as soon as he drags his tongue over your clit. It’s not like the two of you have ever had the privilege of making a lot of noise, as the hotel rooms are always so close to each other, but it doesn’t make it any easier. 
Instead you opt to rake your hands through his hair and try to take deep breaths. But he knows exactly what you like—he knows starting light and slow, teasing around your most sensitive spot will work you up to the brink of insanity, just like he knows gentle circles make your back arch and elicit the prettiest little moans. 
"More," you beg, and the hands wrapped around your thighs rub soothingly, reassuring you that if you can just be patient you’ll get what you want. 
He takes your aching clit into his mouth, sucking lightly and you’re forced to clap a hand over your mouth, muffling the sob of pleasure you can’t hold back. Spencer keeps it up until you’re practically riding his face, teasing your dripping entrance with the tip of his tongue when you get too close. 
"Fuck, please, Spence," you whisper through your fingers, hips rutting in your desperation. Somehow it always ends up like this—with him in charge and you begging. Not that you have a problem with it, of course. 
He hums into you, and if the way his tongue moves back to circling your clit with newfound fervor is any indication, is apparently satisfied with your entreaty. 
You gasp and try to control your breathy moans, but his mouth feels so good on you that your vision is going out and you’re losing touch with reality ever so slightly. You use the last of your brain power to bite down on the back of your wrist, hoping it adequately muffles the noises you make as you come on Spencer’s tongue and he greedily continues lapping at you. There’s really no way of knowing—your ears are ringing anyway. 
When you come to a moment later he’s peppering kisses on your thighs, rubbing your hips gently. 
"So pretty," he murmurs, climbing back up so your lips can meet again. "Everything about you is pretty."
You paw at his shirt, signaling that you want it off as you moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue, feel your slippery arousal staining the kiss. Spencer helps you, sitting up briefly to unzip his hoodie and pull off his shirt. 
You’re the one to drag him back down, and you notice that he pulls the covers back over the both of you in a sweet gesture he probably didn’t even think about. 
"Need you to fuck me," you beg, reaching down to try and undress him further. 
"So crude. What happened to my nice, sweet girl?" He mumbles against your neck, but helps you with his pants anyway. 
"You must have me confused with someone else."
"Doubtful."
You don’t have much time to consider what that could mean before he’s running the head of his cock over your clit and you’re gasping into his mouth, saying please like it’s the only word you know. 
"There she is," Spencer croons, slipping inside you slow enough for you to feel every inch but quick enough for it to expel all the air from your lungs. Once he’s opened you all the way up, impossibly deep and close, you’re seeing stars, barely breathing. His head has dropped to your shoulder but now he drags his lips up your neck and jaw. "We okay?"
It’s been a while, you realize, since that last case in Maine. He always takes some getting used to. Hardly able to think around the pressure of his cock you nod, trying to string together a few words. 
"Fuck, I need a second." The words come out choked, but you manage. Spencer rubs your hip, his lips brushing yours as he speaks. 
"Relax, sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you."
He curses to himself, dropping his head momentarily. You’re so fucking soft, and warm, and perfect, he can’t think straight. But he has to try because he has to take care of you. 
"Spence," you gasp, failing to verbally communicate the intensity of the physical sensation. 
"I know, baby," comes his sympathetic coo. "You know you can take me. Deep breaths."
"Mhm," you squeak, trying to take follow his directions and soften your muscles. Spencer keeps rubbing soothingly over your hips, stomach, whatever he can get his hands on, really, pressing kisses all over your face and telling you how good you are, how perfect you feel for him. After a few moments he feels you fluttering around him and experimentally pulls out halfway, before pushing back in equally as slowly. Your jaw drops as he begins to leisurely fuck you, arms wrapping around his back. He gets deeper than you expect every time, rubbing you raw and stretching you out in the most delicious way. 
"Perfect, baby. Such a good listener, did exactly what I asked."
You cry out when he begins fucking you impossibly deeper, but still so slow and sweet.
"You feel so fucking good for me," he groans. "This is what you were made for, huh?" You agree enthusiastically, eyes fluttering shut. 
"Only for you."
Just three words—but he wasn’t expecting to like hearing you say that as much as he does. A strong desire to possess you overtakes him—one that he’ll probably have the decency to feel guilty about later, but for now feels fucking fantastic and intoxicating. 
"Only me?"
You moan an affirmation. 
"Good. I don’t want anyone else fucking you, do you understand me?"
"Yes!"
"I’m the only one who gets to touch you," he breathes, speeding up ever so slightly, "nobody else is going to feel you like this. Such a good girl, spreading her legs for me at five in the fucking morning. You’re not doing this for anybody else, baby."
"Uh-uh, please, pleasepleaseplease Spence—"
He knows what you need, reaching a hand down between your bodies to rub your clit. 
You gasp an airy, high pitched curse, hips twitching but unable to escape the near-punishing rhythm of his own. It’s obvious that your orgasm is close, but you can’t even warn him, too overwhelmed with pleasure. He kisses you, swallowing your moans that have probably become just a bit too loud given the whole hotel thing. 
No words are exchanged between the two of you as you near the finish line for a change, open mouths slipping against each others in what is too messy to be called a kiss. Your orgasm body-slams you, a choked silent scream as you tighten around Spencer and he seems to come at nearly the exact same moment—deep inside you, slowly rolling his hips in a few more strong thrusts as he finishes. 
You let out a delayed moan at the sensation of being filled up, still pulsing around him as he comes to a halt, buried inside of you. He drops his head to your neck, and you can feel each breath against your flushed skin. Other than the panting, you’re both silent for a while. Spencer seems to gather himself sooner than you do, finally breaking the quiet. 
"You okay?"
All you can manage is a little squeak, at which he looses a breathy chuckle. His hand slides to your hip, gently stroking the skin with a thumb. 
"Need your words, angel girl."
"I’m okay," you coo into his shoulder, but he has to strain to hear it above his own breathing. 
"Yeah? Why so quiet?"
But it seems that at least for the moment, he’s gotten all the words he can out of you. When he tries to move, you whimper indignantly, clutching onto him tighter. 
"I really did a number on you this time, huh?" He laughs when you nod into him. "Are you falling asleep?"
"Mhm," you hum dreamily, little puffs of warm air slowing against his neck. 
"You can have…" he cranes his head to check the digital clock, "48 minutes."
"An hour."
He settles his weight on you once more, pressing a chaste kiss to your throat. His voice is low and gentle as he admonishes you. 
"I said 48 minutes."
But it doesn’t matter—you’re already asleep, or close enough to it. Spencer takes the opportunity to shift you to your side, and the way you wrap around him like a vine even unconsciously makes his heart ache. He really should go now—the earlier he gets out of your room the less likely certain complications will arise—but how can he possibly leave you like this? A vulnerable, dreamy girl with tangled hair haloing around her on the pillow case, clinging to him with blind trust that he’ll watch over her as she sleeps? No—there’s no way he’s leaving yet. Instead, he brings you closer. 48 perfect minutes will go by far too quickly, he’s sure. 
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daisynik7 · 1 year ago
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Pairing: Takuma Ino x f!reader
Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Word Count: ~1.7k
cw: explicit language, mentions of a popular horror movie, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl position), nipple play, blow job, mask kink, slight degradation (slut, whore), use of pet names (cutie, sweetie, baby) 
Summary: You and your new boyfriend Ino decide to watch a horror movie together in honor of spooky season. Halfway through, he notices how skittish you are, making him want to play a silly prank on you with his signature ski mask. It’s all fun and games until he realizes that you actually like seeing him in this way more than he anticipated. 
Author’s Note: Happy October y'all! What can I say, I am VERY into Takuma Ino right now and I just had to get this out of my system. This is barely edited or proofread, sorry for any grammar mistakes or typos, I really was just letting my fingers fly through this in a moment of passion LOL. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated, thank you for reading! MDNI banner by @/cafekitsune. 
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You turn off all the lights, the only source of illumination coming from the TV screen, paused at the very start of the movie you decided to watch tonight. With a big bowl of freshly popped kernels in your grasp, you huddle beside your boyfriend, Ino, on the couch, covering both your legs with a fleece blanket. He wraps his arm around you, pulling you in closer, reaching to grab a handful of popcorn to stuff inside his mouth. “Ready?” he muffles, pointing the remote to the screen, finger pressed to the center button. 
Nuzzling your head against him, you answer. “Yup!”
It’s apparently one of those cult classic horror flicks according to Ino, who recommended it when you mentioned how you wanted to watch something scary for October. He’s seen it before, many times in fact, but he insists that you watch it. He has no clue how frightened you get over the silliest things, so tonight will be a treat for the both of you. 
The opening scene plays out: a beautiful blonde picks up the phone and the conversation ends quickly short because it’s the wrong number. Normal so far, good. It rings again, but now the caller seems interested in talking. Do you like scary movies? Do you have a boyfriend? The man’s voice gives you the creeps, and you find yourself shuddering from it, cuddling closer to Ino, who glances at you with a smirk on his face. 
You never told me your name.
Why do you want to know my name?
Because I want to know who I’m looking at.
This line gives you goosebumps and you lift the blankets up to hide behind it. “Ew, creepy!” Ino only laughs, throwing a few more pieces of popcorn into his mouth. 
It escalates from here, getting increasingly chaotic and violent. By the time you’re halfway into the film, the bowl is down to its last kernels and you’re crouched in Ino’s lap, peeking through your fingers. He pauses the movie after one particularly brutal kill. “Snack break! I’m going to make some more popcorn and go pee.”
“You’re leaving?!” you whine, clinging on to him as he tries to get up.
He chuckles. “Babe! It’s just a movie. I’ll be right back, okay?” He kisses you on the forehead, heading into the kitchen, leaving you alone in the living room. 
Of course it’s just a movie, but you can’t help feeling creeped out in the dark like this. You reach for one of the nightstands, turning on the lamp. You hear the drone of the microwave, and after a minute or so, the distinct sound of popping. Eventually, it comes to a stop, and the entire house is eerily quiet. You’re tempted to call out for Ino, wondering where he is, but you remember that he had to use the bathroom. 
Suddenly, a shadowy figure appears right behind on you on the couch, grabbing your shoulders and shouting gibberish at you. You scream bloody murder, ready to punch him and run away when Ino lifts his ski mask up to reveal himself, tears streaming down his face, cracking up at you. 
“Ino!” you yell at him, slapping his hands away from you. “You fucking asshole!”
He doubles over, cackling, wiping his eyes. It takes a good while for him to regain his composure as you glare at him, arms crossed over your chest. “I’m sorry, baby. I just couldn’t resist.” He sits beside you, stretching his arms out for a hug. “You have to admit, that was fucking hilarious.”
You shake your head, refusing. “You’re such a dick.”
“Oh, come on! It was just a little prank. Now you’ll be way more prepared for the rest of the movie!” He pulls the mask over his face again, everything covered except the holes for his eyes. “See? Not so scary anymore, right?”
You inspect him carefully, still pouting, not saying a word.
“I’m sorry, sweetie. Truly. I promise not to scare you again.” He scoots towards you, nudging you in the arm. 
You roll your eyes at him, relaxing. “Fine.”
“Can I get a kiss now?” 
He tries to lift his mask up, but you stop him, pulling it back down. “I don’t want to see your face right now. I’m still annoyed, you know.”
“Aw man! Really?”
You hoist it just past his nose, leaning in to give him a soft kiss on the lips. When you break apart, he smirks at you. “You like this, don’t you? Seeing me with my mask on.”
You shrug, a sly grin on your face, neither confirming nor denying his accusation. Sure, you were a bit upset at first, when he scared the shit out of you. But seeing his face covered like that may have sparked a desire in you that you never knew you had, until now. 
“Oh my god! You do, you do!” he exclaims, shaking your arm. “My cutie has a mask kink!”
“Shut up, asshole!” you yell at him, pretending to shove him off, smiling. 
“You’re a fucking freak!” he giggles, pouncing on you. He starts tickling you along your ribcage, causing you to squirm beneath him as he straddles you, trapping you between his legs. His fingers flutter under your arms, stroking your sensitive skin.
“Ino!” you cry out, laughing from the sensation. 
You can feel his cock growing hard in his pants, balls heavy on your stomach. Suddenly, he stops, mask still folded to expose his lips, leaning down to kiss you sloppily. He pins your hands above your head, locking his fingers with yours. He slips inside your mouth, grazing your tongue with his, hungry for your saliva. “Fuck,” he moans into you, nipping at your bottom lip. “You like this freaky shit, don’t you? Nasty slut.” His playful tone is laden with lust now, low and sultry, mouth brushing along your neck, sucking at your pulse points to mark you. 
You whine his name, wrapping your legs around his waist, grinding yourself against him. 
“Look at you, getting so fucking dumb all because of my mask,” he purrs. “What else turns you on, cutie? Tell me.”
Without thinking, you blurt out, “Spit. Your spit. I want it.”
“Oh shit,” he swears, licking his mouth. He traces the outline of your lips, beckoning you to open up, dribbling a thick wad of saliva inside you. You gulp it down, sticking your tongue out for more. 
“Oh fuck, you’re nasty,” he says, doing it again. “Makes me so fucking horny seeing you like this. Seeing my cutie act like a fucking whore.” He slips beneath your shirt, fondling your bare breasts, flicking your peaked nipples with his thumbs. 
“Fuck, Ino,” you whisper, pussy throbbing in your panties, arousal leaking through the fabric. 
“You like it when I play with your tits, huh?” Like it when I pinch them hard like this.” He squeezes them between his thumb and index finger, enough pressure to stimulate you, making you moan his name again and again.
He swears under his breath, shoving his pants down his legs, shimmying out of them until he’s only in his underwear now, erection stiff in his boxers. “You gonna suck my cock now or what, slut?” 
You nod, kneeling in front of him, knees on the carpet, spreading his thighs apart. He lifts his ass off the couch to slide out of his boxers, letting them fall around his ankles. You kiss the tip of his dick, smearing his precum around your lips like gloss before swallowing him into your mouth. 
He lets out a drawn out, “Fuck,” watching you with wide eyes as you bob up and down his shaft. Voice shaky, he asks, “Can I put my hands on you?”
Something about him in this ski mask makes you want to be submissive, makes you want to be used. You grab both his hands, guiding them towards the sides of your head, giving him free rein to manhandle you.
“Holy shit,” he murmurs, gripping you tighter, gradually thrusting his hips in tandem with you. His cockhead hits the back of your throat, teasing your gag reflex, but you resist, tears collecting in the corners of your eyes, enduring it. 
Noticing you, he pulls out, a string of spit between you. “Baby, baby. Please don’t force yourself. I don’t want to hurt you.” He reaches to his side, grabbing a tissue from the table beside the couch, wiping away the spit around your mouth and the tears in your eyes. “Come here, cutie. I want to make you feel good too.”
You strip out of your bottoms, straddling his lap, pussy wet and aching against him. He moans as you rock back and forth on his shaft, pressing his thumb to your clit, massaging it. “There we go. Now we both can feel good, yeah?”
After a few more strokes, you beg him to fuck you, lifting up to guide his cock inside you slowly, sinking down on him until he bottoms out. You bounce on him, his hands gripped to your waist, guiding you, moaning your name between expletives. 
As you approach your orgasm, you pull up his mask, placing it on his head as he usually wears it. He smiles brightly at you, nuzzling his nose to yours. “There’s my pretty girl. Can you come for me now? Come all over this cock?”
You kiss him passionately, arms wrapped around his neck as he thrusts into you, hands squeezed on your ass now. You reach your climax, moaning into his mouth. He comes with you, shooting his load deep into your womb, filling you up with his cream pie. The two of you continue to kiss slowly, catching your breaths. He caresses your back while you melt into his embrace. 
“We need to establish a safe word,” he suggests, cradling you in his arms. “I want to make sure I’m not hurting you.”
You hum into his skin, saying the first thing that comes to mind. “Popcorn."
He chuckles, stroking the back of your neck gently. “Alright. Popcorn it is.” A beat later, he exclaims, “Popcorn! I totally forgot about the popcorn!”
You laugh, giving your boyfriend a wet smooch on the cheek.
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taeghi · 4 months ago
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casual | teaser
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full release : read here
you thought you could handle being casual with notorious fratboy!heeseung, but when feelings get involved, you soon realize that 'casual' isn't so simple.
PAIRING : fratboy!heeseung x reader
GENRE : smut, fwb to lovers, enemies? to lovers?? & a little angst?? + 5 smut scenes lol
WC : probs 20k
taglist : ???
YOU LOVE CASUAL SEX.
you've always prided yourself on being the type who keeps things casual. it's not that you're afraid of commitment; rather, you find comfort in the simplicity of fucking and then never seeing the person again. there’s no messy entanglements or feelings. it’s a way to satisfy your desires without the emotional baggage that comes with more serious relationships.
you’d rather be alone, but you still have fun with your friends when you go out. you've never been content with surface-level explanations or shallow interactions. you crave depth, in people and experiences. which you have found to be, truthfully, hard in today’s day and age. 
you’re sensitive to most things, so you try to cover it up– protect yourself– with all the partying, the drinking, the sex. 
and tonight, like every other normal friday night; you’re at a party. 
there’s a familiar thump of music and loud chatter around you that you’ve grown accustomed to. yooyeon and gracie, your closest friends are an inseparable couple, are by your side. they've been together for what feels like forever, the kind of relationship that makes you simultaneously envious and relieved you're not in a relationship.
as you continue to sip your drink, yooyeon leans in with her knowing smile, “so, y/n,” teases, “have you decided when you’re gonna settle down? find yourself a nice guy and stop with all these one night stands?” 
you roll your eyes playfully, used to this conversation. "never," you reply with a grin, "casual hookups forever, remember?"
gracie chuckles, shaking her head fondly. "come on, yn," she chimes in, her voice warm with affection, “you know it’s gonna have to get boring at some point.” 
you shrug nonchalantly, though their words do make you pause for a moment. "maybe someday," you concede, though deep down, you're not so sure. relationships have never been your thing, and the thought of settling down feels suffocating.
"come on, yn," yooyeon nudges you gently, her expression softening, "we love you just the way you are. but don't close yourself off to the possibility, okay?"
you nod, grateful for their understanding. deep down, you know they're right—they always are. but for now, you want to find someone to relieve the ache that’s been in your core all day. 
you turn to gracie, the one who always knows all the drama on your college campus, “who is here that i can hook up with?” 
gracie rolls her eyes and looks around the crowded frat house, “hm,” she thinks outloud, “well jeongin and bella broke up this week…” 
you shake your head, “too soon, i don’t want to be a potential rebound for him.” 
yooyeon scoffs and continues to drink, listening to your guys’ conversation. 
“how about,” gracie, “mark? he’s real chatty though.”
you groan, “then no.”
gracie goes on a small list of people that she sees around, but none of them suffice. none of them are your type or seem to be able to satisfy you. you tell your friends that you’re going to go get another drink– you’ll need one. 
the kitchen table has a handful of drinks to choose from. there’s punch and beer and vodka, half of it has been spilt all over said table. 
“the punch is good,” a voice suddenly says from beside you. 
when you turn, you instantly recognize him– he’s one of the frat boys that lives in this house, maybe the most popular one of them all. 
lee heeseung stands beside you with an air of confidence that is probably more on the cocky side. his posture is relaxed yet demeaning. his hair is tousled and his clothes give off a carefree attitude. 
pretty much everyone at your college knows lee heeseung from his parties, his stories, the multiple girls he has slept with. you’ve heard enough stories about him to write an entire book, yet his entire persona is more annoying than appealing to you. his entire act is one that you’ve seen played out too many times before. 
“good to know,” you say and grab a beer instead. 
heeseung raises his eyebrow at your choice, “i’m heeseung.” his voice is smooth and cuts through the noise of the party. 
you take a sip of your beer, “i know who you are.” you reply bounty, not bothering to hide your disinterest.
intrigued by your coldness, “right,” he acknowledges with a smirk, “and i know who you are.” 
“congrats," you say dryly, with a fake excitement to your tone. 
heeseung suddenly leans in closer to you and whispers into your ear, his voice low, "you're the girl who only does casual sex, right?"
you're taken aback by his boldness, but there's a flicker of curiosity in your eyes. "i might be,"
heeseung smirks down at you at your answer. you let yourself think that maybe the notorious fuckboy is pretty handsome. his complexion seemingly glows, his eyes are full of a flirty playfulness, and his smile is charming enough. 
“well, do you wanna have casual sex with me?” 
if it wasn’t lee heeseung standing in front of you, you would be surprised. 
instead, you let out a groan, your face contorts in disgust, “god no.” 
heeseung tilts his head, “why not? i thought you were into that.” 
“because you’re like a walking std.” 
instead of getting offended like you had hoped, heeseung bursts out laughing in the middle of the kitchen, his eyes squinting. 
"damn, straight to the point," he manages between chuckles, clearly amused by your blunt response. 
you roll your eyes, trying not to let his laughter get under your skin. "just being honest," you retort, though there's a hint of begrudging amusement in your tone. 
“i’ll see you around, y/n.” 
you turn on your heel, your back already faced him when you reply, “no, you won’t.”
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@ taeghi, 2024. do not repost or reuse in anyway.
PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY, AS LIKES MAKE IT HARD FOR WORK TO BE SPREAD AND ENJOYED BY OTHERS :)
stay safe everyone :)
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tpwk-formula1 · 2 months ago
Note
Hello! I'm a sucker for menu style requests, expect more of me lol
I would like a gluten-free pizza with red sauce with roasted peppers and pulled pork, plus a mango smoothie with no dessert. All served by Oscar Piastri
I've read a couple of your fics, and they're really good! Keep it up <3
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Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu
gluten-free enemies to lovers red sauce rough sex roasted peppers "Such a good whore" pulled pork "God, I love when I fuck the attitude out of you" mango smoothie baby trapping dessert yes served by Oscar Piastri
Oscar x Fem! reader
TW mention of pregnancy, creampie, unprotected sex, fingering, orgasm description, MDNI 18+
WC 1200+
Y/N POV
"Oscar, get ready now. You need to be in the Fan Zone in less than 15 minutes and I'm not fucking sprinting there this week," I snap at Oscar after having found him asleep in his driver's room when he was supposed to be getting ready to go on stage.
"Go away, Y/N! I'll be there on time," Oscar groans back turning his back towrds me making me march over to the Aussie, where I pull him arm slightly.
"Let's fucking go. I'll be damned for you're the fucking reason I get fired," I snapped again while attempting to yank him out of the bed again.
"You do realize my pinky has more strength than your entire body?" Oscar says while looking up at me softly.
"Please, Osc, we need to go," I ask back cleanly getting desperate.
"Fine, but when I'm done I want you back in here with me," Oscar says with a small smirk playing on his lips. I just groan but agree knowing how it goes for Oscar and I.
"You know you love when I use that little body of yours," Oscar whispered in my ear as we walk towards the Fan Zone making my face grow hot but I just laugh lightly trying to play off the moment like Oscar had told a joke since did have eyes on us.
"Get on stage and behave, and then we'll see about me coming back to your room," I tell him softly while standing backstage to make sure I was close to everything in case Oscar or Lando needed something but far enough away not many people could see me.
When the boys finally wrapped up both of them head back off stage and we all quickly usher ourselves back to the garage where we could finally wrap up for the day and head back to the hotel to get ready for race day tomorrow.
"You're coming to my hotel instead. I wanna take my time," Oscar whispers in my ear making me groan and roll my eyes.
"Drop the fucking attitude," Oscar whispers in my ear before we both go separate ways.
When I get back to my hotel room I quickly change out of my McLaren uniform and into a pair of sweats and a tank top before walking out and down the hall towards Oscar's room.
I knock on the door softly when Oscar opens the door and quickly pulls me into his room and in for a kiss.
"Fuck, I've wanted to do that all day," Oscar groans while guiding me toward his bed.
When he gets me on the bed he instantly slips my sweats off leaving me in my tank top and thong.
"Holy fuck Oscar, I've been in your room less than 3 minutes, have some fucking decorum," I gasp when he leans down and takes a teasing lick at my thong-covered pussy.
"I've waited all day 'cause someone insisted work was more important than coming over this morning," Oscar says while sending a slap down on my inner thigh.
"And drop the fucking attitude," Oscar says before sending another slap down on my inner thigh.
"Osc, please," I whine lifting my hips and trying to get Oscar where I need him.
"So fucking needy! You just told me to have decorum," Oscar says with an eye roll but still proceeds to rip off my thong tearing it to shreds.
"OSCAR! That's the third fucking pair this week," I complain but am quickly shut up by Oscar's mouth on my pussy making me moan loudly.
"Just shut up," Oscar groans burying his face back into my pussy. Oscar knew what he was doing, he knew all the spots to hit with his tongue that would leave me with shakey legs and begging to cum for him.
"Oh, Osc," I scream when I feel Oscar roughly shove 2 fingers deep into my pussy making sure to graze my G-spot.
"Fuck, I love when you get close," Oscar groans making me whimper from the vibrations on my clit.
"Cum for me," Oscar says while speeding up his actions sending me into a shaking orgasm.
"Fuck," I cry out starting to try and get away from Oscar's quick and relentless fingers.
"Stay fucking still," Oscar roughly tells me while using his free hand to send a harsh slap down on my inner thigh.
"Osc, too much," I beg trying to get away only resulting in Oscar roughly pulling his fingers out and shoving them into my mouth.
"Fucking finally some silence," Oscar tells me while sending another slap down on my thigh. Oscar makes quick work of taking off his clothes and roughly burying himself deep into my pussy and giving me a few seconds to adjust to his size.
"Fuck, how do you get tighter the more I fuck you," Oscar groans when he starts rocking his hips clearly getting lost in the pleasure.
"So good, faster please," I praise and beg needing more from Oscar.
"Such a good whore," Oscar groans making me whimper when I feel his fingers back on my clit only adding to the pleasure.
"I love feeling you clench around my cock, lets me know you're just a little slut ready to cum whenever I want," Oscar tells me only speeding up his actions and bringing me impossibly closer to the edge. Oscar knew I was gonna be cumming for him if he kept up his actions so he slowed down just a bit.
"NO! Osc, please," I shout out not happy with being denied the orgasm that was so close I could practically taste it.
"You'll cum, but when I'm ready," Oscar tells me making me whimper.
"Please," I begged while trying to sneak a hand between our bodies but Oscar quickly caught both of my hands and pinned them above my head where he continued to pound into me.
"Osc, I need it," I whine again for him.
"I'll do anything," I continue.
"God, I love when I fuck the attitude out of you. One second you're being a little bitch and the next you're like putty in my hands willing to do anything to cum for me," Oscar scoffs making me whine and continue to buck my hips trying to cum for him.
"Go on, cum for me," Oscar finally says while letting go of my hands and bringing one of his down to play with my clit while he brings me over the edge in a screaming orgasm.
I feel Oscar start cumming deep in my pussy making me whimper at the feeling of being filled up with his hot cum.
"God, I would love to watch you get pregnant with my child," Oscar says with a smirk while falling next to me in pulling me in for a chest.
"I would ring you for all your money," I joke with a smirk on my face only making Oscar roll his eyes.
"I would very much be involved in my child's life. But by all means you can have my bank account if you carry my babies," Oscar tells me making me shake my head. It was a conversation for another day.
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videovamptramp · 11 months ago
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i’m right over here, why can’t you see me? (2)
// when ellie’s reaction to you and abby hooking up isn’t quite what you expected, she leads you right into abby’s open arms. //
[warnings: jealousy, pining, angst, slight arguing, angry!ellie, illusions to one-sided feelings, simp!abby, fuckgirl!ellie, sexual implications]
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xxxxxxxxx
this is pt.2 (pt.1 can be found here)
abby was always taught to be the bigger person. her father consistently reminded her that no matter how people treat her, she should always be the bigger person. that’s most of the reason why she’s so reserved and non-confrontational. when she first started university, she knew she didn’t quite fit in. unlike a vast majority of students around here, she wasn’t here for the “college” experience. she was just here to play soccer and get her degree in engineering. she also noticed you from the first day of freshman year, but she was way too shy to say hi to you. abby’s never really been good at flirting or starting conversation with new people. she often feels too awkward, or too intimidated to say anything.
manny took a liking to her right away; the school got his rooming situation mixed up, and that’s how he ended up being abby’s roommate. it was strange at first for her; she was wary about having a guy as a roommate. but she quickly learned manny was a cool guy. he was funny, and hung up pictures of him and his dad right away. abby could relate, as she was very close to her dad as well.
manny slowly seemed to get abby out of her shell, and would invite her to various functions and parties. but he quickly learned if it didn’t have anything to do with soccer, abby wasn’t really interested. even the girls who threw themselves at the dark haired blonde, would get shot down without abby even realizing she was rejecting them. you were ironically the first person abby found herself interested in. hell, after the party yesterday, abby was almost certain she was enthralled by you.
after walking you back to your dorm, you gave abby your number and hugged her tightly. abby walked all the way back to her shared room with a dorky grin on her face. she could still smell your girly perfume, and all she could think about was your pretty smile. a part of her wondered if you’d cave and call ellie, but when you texted her after she had gotten out of the shower, she knew you didn’t.
y/n (1:34 a.m): i can’t wait to see how she reacts tomorrow, thanks for helping me haha
y/n (1:35 a.m): and thank you for keeping me company tonight, i really liked getting to know you abby 🖤
the smile that tugged at her lips after reading your message was nearly unrecognizable. as she walked out of the bathroom with her eyes and thumbs on her phone screen, manny raises a brow in slight suspicion at the peculiar sight.
abby (1:42 a.m): i really liked getting to know you too, i hope we can get to know each other better :) i was serious about teaching you how to ride a horse lol
“that’s a face i’ve never seen before.” manny states observingly, causing abby to look away from her phone, over at her roommate who was flashing her an intrigued smile. a blush coats her freckled covered cheeks as she thinks about you and your smile. “you remember that girl from my women’s history class? y/n?” abby reminds her best friend, who throws his head back and lets out a bark of a laugh. “abby you jugadora (player)! i knew you’d get laid eventually.” he taunts causing the jock to roll her eyes. “i didn’t ‘get laid’, gross ass. i finally said more than five words to her. i got her number too.” abby smirks, and mischief glints in manny’s eyes. “so nora dragging you to that party was a good thing then?” he half taunts and abby’s phone chimes, signaling that you’ve texted her again; her face gets hot, and manny chuckles.
y/n (1:44 a.m): i’ll be waiting for you to set something up when we’re not tipsy then ;)
abby (1:46a.m): i don’t think you’ll be waiting for very long <3 goodnigjt y/n, sleep tight
y/n (1:47 a.m): goodnight abby 🖤
when you wake up the next morning, your head is throbbing, and thoughts of last night begin to flood your mind. suddenly you remember all about abby’s plan to make ellie jealous. you reach over for your phone and see you have a string of missed calls, and five texts from ellie. your heart thumps as you open the text thread with the brunette.
ellie (2:20 a.m): you home??
ellie (6:34 a.m): why didn’t you call me last night?
ellie (6:35 a.m): did you make it back to your room safely??
ellie (9:35 a.m): you going to class today?
ellie (11:47 a.m) did you really hookup with anderson last night? it’s all that nora chick and her friend are talking about rn.
your cheeks heat up as you read the last message; word certainly seems to move fast around here. before you can even think about a response to ellie’s various messages, your gaze wanders to the time. your eyes widen as you gasp, realizing you slept nearly half the day away; it was already 2:30 p.m and nobody except for abby knew you were alive. you scurry off your bed, and just as your about to grab your clothes and stuff to shower, dina comes barging into your shared dorm. “dude, is it true!? did you hookup with the captain of the soccer team last night!?” dina sounds excited, and your cheeks turn a dark shade of pink, causing her to gasp.
“you did! holy shit, y/n… i didn’t think you had it in you.” she comments, sounding a bit impressed. “what? you didn’t think i had enough rizz to pull abby anderson?” you question half jokingly, causing the raven haired girl to laugh loudly. “oh no, i’m well aware you can pull whoever you want, i just didn’t think you’d move on from ellie so fast! i didn’t even come home last night, i spent the night listening to ellie rant about you and abby hunky anderson.” dina teases you mercilessly, doing nothing to ease the way your face is burning.
the raven haired girls eyes then widen, shining with pure amusement. “did you two do it in here? on your bed!?” she cackles before whistling, “who are you?” dina asks half jokingly as she begins to walk over to her side of the room, reaching for her biology textbook. “you’re leaving again?” you ask out loud, and dina nods, turning her head and flashing you a roguish smile. “yup, i’m studying with jesse till five.” she admits, and you raise your brows, offering her a disbelieving expression. “studying or fucking?” you ask her, poking fun at the slightly taller girl. she rolls her eyes, but looks away from you in order to keep you from seeing the way her face changes in color. “unlike you, i am considerate of jesse’s roommate. we wait until he’s at work.” dina’s response causes you to laugh, shaking your head in amusement.
“whatever. i’m going to shower, and change into pajamas. maybe i’ll make myself a cup soup and watch reruns of buffy all evening.” you tell her, and dina snorts. “maybe you could call anderson to join you. i’m sure she’ll be up for round two.” dina’s voice is sardonic but dripping with lightheartedness. “who says we didn’t already have round two?” you inquire challengingly, causing dina to gasp as she reaches for a pillow on her bed, tossing it right at you. you laugh loudly, as you make your way towards the door with your pajamas and toothbrush in hands. right as you open the door to rush out, you come face to face with ellie who had been debating with herself on whether to knock or not.
her eyebrows meet her hairline as she sees you, your mascara from last night a mess, and your hairs a mess. there’s a wave of hot, red anger that surges throughout the brunette as she realizes you’ve been so busy with abby anderson, you haven’t been able to answer any of her messages, or even been able to wash your face. her eyes flicker over to your bed that’s a mess, and suddenly unwanted images of abby fucking you on your bed flood her mind.
“it’s nice to see you’re alive.” ellie grumbles a bit dramatically as she pushes her way into the room, causing dina to turn around and look at you. “you knew i was okay. i was with abby.” you respond, and the mere mention of the other girl seems to set ellie off. “no i didn’t know that y/n! i don’t know a fucking thing about abby! she could’ve been a weirdo who only wanted to take advantage of you—” you cut ellie off before she can say something stupid, “but she wasn’t! abby and i are both two consenting adults who hooked up, just like everyone else around here!” you snap a bit harshly, and the words feel like a slap to the face for ellie. “so the rumors are true? you and anderson hooked up last night?” ellie’s voice sounds hurt, and you can’t even recognize the expression that’s etched onto her features.
“uh, jesse’s waiting for me, so i’ll let you guys talk.” dina declares a bit awkwardly, she can feel the tension in the room, but she decides to stay out of it and walk away. before she walks out, the raven haired girl flashes you a look of reassurance. when she shuts the door behind her, you and ellie are left alone. you shake your head, “why do you sound so angry about it? you hookup with girls all the time!” you counterpoint, and ellie shakes her head. “but i never ditch you to do it!” she hisses, while you respond with an eye roll. “yes you do! ellie, you ditched me last night for angela! you do it at every party with different girls, but the one time i do it, it’s a problem?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest.
“i was worried about you! i don’t care about your meaningless, shitty hookup with anderson.” ellie spits rudely, and you let out an angry laugh of disbelief. “shitty? why do you think i was asleep all day? it was amazing.” you nearly grimace as you realize you sound like you’re trying too hard to convince ellie. “besides, abby already asked me on a date. she wants to go horseback riding.” you lie right through your teeth, and ellie lets out a chuckle. “yeah? that sounds like complete bullshit.” she calls you on your bluff, and you raise a brow, “what sounds like bullshit? that someone could actually want something more than a hookup with me?” you ask challengingly, causing ellie’s annoyed expression to falter. “no, y/n, that’s not what i meant…” she trails off, her voice lowering slightly.
“then what did you mean? because to me it sounds like you think all abby or anyone could ever want me for is a hookup.” you reply dryly, but ellie can detect the slight hurt in your tone. she shakes her head again, “no that isn’t— it’s not you! it’s abby! girls like her aren’t actually interested in dating anyone. i mean, half the cheerleading team said she sleeps with girls and never talks to them again!” ellie points out, and you furrow your eyebrows. “since when do you listen to rumors?” you demand, making her run her fingers through her hair in frustration. “you can’t seriously be thinking about going out with her, are you?”
her question causes you to frown, “yes i am. and unless you can give me an actual reason on why i shouldn’t, then we have nothing left to fight about.” your voice is strangely stern, and something in ellie’s stomach drops because of it. “i’m going to go shower… just like was before you barged in here.” you know you sound meaner than usual, but you can’t help it. ellie was supposed to be showing you how sexy she was when she was jealous, not what a jerk she was. you didn’t even mean to lie about your date with abby; it had just slipped out. ellie had a way of pushing your buttons, and in a way you knew the more you talked about abby, the more you were pushing hers. you walk out of your room, shutting the door behind you and leaving ellie alone. she can’t help but glance over at the messy, undid bed that was taunting her. ellie hates thinking about you and abby together, but she still can’t figure out why. dina was right, the brunette might just be the most oblivious person on the planet.
you’re not as upset after getting clean. a warm shower and a fresh set of pajamas always makes you feel better. when you get back to your room, ellie is no longer there, but there's a twinge of guilt that runs through your veins. you push it as far away from your thoughts as you can. you know you shouldn't feel bad; after all, ellie has been raving about how "pretty" and "hot" angela is for the last four weeks! you shouldn't feel the slightest bit guilty for making her jealous with abby.
as your mind thinks about the honey blonde girl, a small, inevitable smile makes it's way onto your lips. though the smile falls fast when you realize you're going to have to ask abby to help you again. this time it was your own doing; you angrily lied to ellie and told her you had a date with abby. in a way it made you feel a bit pathetic, faking a date. the cruel voice in your head was telling you that ellie was right; you couldn't get a date with someone like abby... not an actual date at least. but ellie didn't really know that. as far as she knew, you were going to be riding off into the sunset with abby after your date.
ellie doesn’t text you throughout the rest of the evening or night. a part of you feels a bit bad for lying to her, but the other part of you knows you only did it because she was acting stupid. the next morning you wake up and get ready for your classes; feeling way better than you did yesterday. abby sees you walking to your second class, which happens to be women’s history with her. she can’t stop herself from approaching you, regardless of the butterflies fluttering in her stomach.
“y/n.” she greets you with that soft accent, that causes an unfamiliar warmth to course throughout your body. “abigail.” you respond back, unable to contain the smile on your face. “how did things go with williams yesterday?” she asks curiously, and your smile falls at the mention of your best friend. “not good? was my plan a bust?” she questions cautiously, rubbing the back of her neck nervously. you sigh, “i don’t know. i mean, she was really mad yesterday when she came to my room. she heard people saying we hooked up, and she said all you wanted was to hookup and never talk to me again…” you trail off, and abby opens her mouth to disagree, but you go on before she can get a word out.
“i kinda got really mad when she said that and i might’ve lied to her about us having a date.” you blush in pure embarrassment, and abby lets out a laugh. “oh jeez, i don’t even wanna picture how angry she got when you told her that.” abby’s voice is light, yet there’s a slight seriousness in her tone; she remembers the way ellie was glaring at her the other night. you shake your head, a small frown etching itself onto your face. abby can’t figure out how you look so pretty all the time; even when you’re upset. “yeah she was pretty mad… but who cares? she’s just acting like a jerk! i mean, to be jealous is one thing but she doesn’t have to be an asshole about it. she’s supposed to be my best friend. realistically she’s supposed to be happy for me.” you mutter, causing the blonde to raise her brows in amusement.
“she’s your best friend who’s in love with you. the more time you spend with me, the angrier she’s gonna get.” abby points out with a slight mumble, and you sigh, “if ellie is as in love with me as you and dina say she is, then she would’ve said something yesterday. but she didn’t. i honestly think ellie just isn’t into me like that.” you sound genuinely sad as you come to terms with this, and the dismal expression on your face causes something to tug at abby’s heartstrings. she doesn’t like seeing you sad.
“she’s just stubborn. she needs more of a push. i mean you said she got upset when you told her we have a date.” abby tries, as you both stand outside of the classroom, continuing the conversation. “yeah, but she’s ellie, she literally has anger issues. maybe she was just mad that i promised to call, and i didn’t.” you explain, and abby shrugs. “then lets go on a date. let’s see how ellie reacts to it.” the taller girl throws the idea out there, causing you to freeze. you look at her, “you wanna take me on a “date”, just so i can see how ellie reacts?” your voice has suspicion laced throughout it, as abby nods. “why do you wanna help me so badly?” you interrogate slightly, obviously not trusting the blonde.
she laughs at the way your eyes are narrowed, and she can’t help but find every expression of yours absolutely adorable. “because i like you. you’re the coolest person i’ve met around here aside from nora and manny. i’ll help you get the girl if that’s what you want. i’m a great wingman.” she winks at you, and you roll your eyes playfully, that genuine smile that causes abby’s heart to palpitate returns. “you’re also a very sweet person.” you add onto her boast; this causes the back of her neck to heat up, as she looks down at her boots and smiles. you wrap your arms around her and hug her tightly, just like you did the other night.
and just like the first time you hugged her, abby’s mind begins to race as the smell of your perfume takes over her senses. she hugs you back, and when you pull away you have this mischievous grin on your face. “i guess we’ve officially got a date then, anderson.” you half joke, as you lead abby into the classroom. abby’s sure her face is as red as a tomato, and she’s much too busy thinking about how soft you are and how good you smell to think of a good response. instead, all abby can do is follow you like a puppy to your seat. she sits down next to you, and throughout the entire class, she doesn’t pay attention once.
after the class ends she realizes she hasn’t taken a single note, and has no idea what the assignment topic for tonight is. every thought she seemed to have, circled back to you. the worst of it was, you were probably thinking about ellie while she was thinking about you nonstop.
after class, she groans to herself as she realizes she has no idea what the assignment topic for tonight is. she was too busy stealing glances at you, and thinking about your “date”.
“god, what the hell did i get myself into?”
abby thinks to herself as she walks into her shared dorm. she throws herself onto her bed, her thoughts never leaving you.
meanwhile ellie slams the door behind her as she storms into her room. she can’t help but feel more upset than ever. she saw you and abby walking to class today, and it caused an ugly green wave of jealousy to wash over her. for a moment she actually wanted to go up to abby and punch her right in front of you, though ellie knew you’d never forgive her for that. but ellie also couldn’t just sit around and watch you fall for abby fucking anderson.
suddenly, she pauses in the middle of pacing as an idea hits her; like a lightbulb lighting up over her head. ellie knows what she has to do; she’s going to ruin your date with abby, and she has a million different ideas on how to do it.
xxxxxxx
team abby or team ellie? 👀
taglist: @macaroni676 @swxxtbnny @bellaramseyswife @asabovesobelow666 @thatonementallyillsimp @fofinhamarie @p4ison1vy @harrysslutsstuff @jalousiexx @mostlyhornyandsad @clouded-whispers @elliewilliams4ever @forelliesposts @dergy @uraesthete @4rt3m1ss @3bolivia @calderysuh @milfsandtittyenthusiast @fofinhamarie @mikimambo @elliewilliamsgf69 @ariiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii01 @ellienbilliearemywives @emst4rr @nabiba @bycoincidencesoflife @jennasoneanonly @lizzygoldenr @bready101 @dinasbigtoe @fairlyang @wingedoafbasketballjudge-blog @halfmooneclipse @defencelessarcher @selfcentered-bitch @vswerve @iwantyoutocryforme @hsangel64 @abbysleftbicepp @gabsssssblog @2dmenlackimperfection @cinematicdilfs @masclover111 @mai5mai @teenagedramaqueenlisa
i’m sorry to everyone it didn’t let me tag, some of your blogs weren’t popping up 😭 merry christmas loves, stay safe - vamp <3
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pomefioredove · 5 months ago
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"Don't bite your lip, I want to do that" With Vil please 🥺👉👈
bravely writing something a little flirtier than usual... (as if this line hasn't been requested 3 times for that exact reason lol)
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summary: "don't bite your lip, I want to do that" type of post: short fic characters: vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, good lort. a part of this event
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"Are you nervous?"
The question is innocent enough, though you detect something subtly teasing hidden behind it.
His expression itself is neutral; you can tell by the glimmer in his eye.
"Is it that obvious?" it's a rhetorical question. Vil is able to read you like the back of his hand.
He smiles. "You look like you're about to make a run for it. Relax. It's just a presentation, you've done them before,"
You sink in your seat, clearly disagreeing. He tsks, and you immediately correct your posture.
He really keeps you on a short leash...
"This one is different," you insist. "This is a group magic project, keyword magic. I've already failed a third of it!"
Vil rolls his eyes at your dramatics, though his tone remains soft. His patience always seems endless when it comes to you.
"And you don't trust Grim to perform on your behalf?"
You stare back. Now that's a rhetorical question...
"Very well," he says, barely able to hold back a smile. "Let's try this again, I'll be nicer this time. Don't forget to project."
You're not even sure how you can project when you're basically right next to each other. You think he just likes saying it.
Nonetheless, you sigh. "Fine... I'll start here. This is our project on-"
"Don't sound so uptight," he cuts in, standing and walking around you in a circle. "And sit up straight. You want to engage your audience, not close them out."
You begrudgingly does as he says. You know he's right, but he doesn't have to be so smug about it...
"Better?"
"Shoulders back," he says, grabbing your shoulders and straightening them out, adjusting you like a doll.
Once he's satisfied, Vil comes around in front of you again and sighs. "Well, it's a start. Go on, from the beginning,"
"Okay. This is our project-"
"You're not going to introduce yourself?"
You glare, and he chuckles, clearly enjoying getting a rise out of you. "My apologies. I didn't realize this was an avant-garde presentation. Go on,"
Another sigh. "Fine. I'll be presenting, while Ace and Deuce cover the demonstration portion of the project. We-"
"More confidence," he hums, putting a hand under your chin and tilting your head up. "Remember to engage. Speak to your audience directly."
You mean to scold him for distracting you, but can only manage a mumble. He's putting a spotlight on you, and you hate it.
Maintaining eye contact is impossible. The amused expression on his face as you try to concentrate is starting to make you feel even more anxious than before.
"...We tested a few... different..." you trail off, nervously biting the corner of your lip. "Methods... and..."
He clicks his tongue in disapproval, his thumb moving up from your chin to your lower lip, running across it.
"Don't bite your lip," he chides. "I want to do that."
A shock of adrenaline makes you go numb, your notes spilling out of your hands and all over the bedroom floor.
Vil sighs, as if exasperated, and takes a step back to survey the sorry sight. "Tsk. You really are hopeless. How can you expect to present if you can't handle a little distraction?"
After a moment of watching you scramble to collect the papers, he leans down to help, his smirking face dangerously close to yours.
"No matter. We have plenty of time to practice,"
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betterthana-six · 5 months ago
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| MUSIC TO MY EARS - [ABBY ANDERSON] - CHAPTER ONE |
PAIRINGS: stoic!rugby player abby x fem!reader
SUMMARY: you and your new(ish) roommate, Abby Anderson, have gotten into an argument. about what? unclear at the moment. but it's got Abby in a fit of shame. until late one night she hears you outside with someone whose voice she doesn't recognize and listens in.
WARNINGS: this is my first story ive ever published here. please be kind! i am fragile lol. this is definitely a slow burn, but lots of pining, yearning, and, yes, smut to come. TRUST. so, mdni. there are a lot of flashbacks between now and when they met so we get the full story eventually. this is more of a light hearted story but it does deal with coming to terms with sexuality (and who best to help you along that journey but rugby playing and stoic Abby Anderson?). anyways, i hope that the five people who might read this like it. I've proofread but, like, nobody's perfect. if people like this and want it as a series, ill make a more personalized playlist for it.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2
Music To My Ears: Chapter 1
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Abby is in your dorm room stretched out in bed with a book in her hands when she hears voices coming from outside. She watches the shadows dance in the light that extends under the door and into the room. It’s late. Abby hasn’t seen you all day. 
She tries to go back to reading, but her eyes glaze over the words almost immediately. Someone is leaning on the door, off and on making the hinge jingle in a way that is most times ignorable. Drunk students came through all the time, lingering in the hallways and leaning on the doors. But it isn’t ignorable now, not for Abby. 
The voices are muffled. They sound like they’re… giggling. One giggle is definitely yours. Abby could spot it from a mile away. The other’s is unfamiliar. Abby’s been reading the same passage over and over again and doesn’t even realize it.
It goes quiet outside and this time Abby closes the book, suddenly over-aware of her surroundings. She looks up at the reading light hanging from the headboard and instinctively switches it off. But she doesn’t want it to look like she turned it off because of them? She turns it on again without thinking and turns it off again, quickly entertaining the idea of faking sleep and listening in. With her hand on the switch Abby stops, realizing that they might start noticing the light going on and off and think she’s trying to signal something. She shakes her head at herself with embarrassment. She covers her face with both her hands. So stupid… she says under her breath. 
It’s been quiet for so long out there. But the shadows are still there. Abby lays down in bed and forfeits to her desire to eavesdrop. As icky as it makes her feel.
Your voice comes through finally. 
“What?” You ask, innocently.
“Don’t look at me like that.” An unfamiliar voice chimes in. It’s a woman’s voice. Abby couldn’t tell if she was feigning some sort of annoyance with you or if it was genuine.
“Like what?” 
A silence passes.
You sigh loudly. “Well, what’d you think of what I sent you? That wasn’t a cheap effort, you know. Full body mirror in the ladies’ locker room. Not too shabby.”
“You have to stop…” The other voice says, with a playful twinge that makes Abby’s curiosity perk up like dog ears. 
“Stop what? I can’t send you photos?” Your voice tells Abby you were in some daze, in the same way she could sometimes hear singers smile through their lyrics. Just thinking about you out there in the hall hanging onto the door and onto each of her words, shining your big green eyes at her. It sends a shiver down Abby’s spine.
“Not anymore,” the stranger says casually. “It was really good seeing you tonight but I have a boyfriend, remember? And I’ve told him about…us. High school. He knows… is the thing. He thinks I’m studying for midterms right now.” 
You laugh at that. In a sweet way, though. “Right,” you say and you sigh, seemingly unaffected by the reminder. “Jeremy?”
“Jeremiah,” the woman corrects.
“God, that’s even worse.” 
Abby snorts, basically smashing her lips shut with her hand, and then rages at herself silently in the dark for fear they may have heard her.
 “Did you… even look at them?” you ask. God, are you drunk? Abby has now given up on the book entirely, laying up on one elbow to stare at the door, imagining the conversation visually. 
A laugh from the woman. Mumbling now, feigning sheepishness, “Yeah.”
“And?”
“And…I think…about them, about you. Of course.” Abby’s hands are clasped together, tightening around one another at this.
“Yeah…?” you draw out the stranger’s words seductively with your own. Abby imagines you in the long, maroon dress you typically wear for special occasions. Was this a special occasion? She nearly has the impulse to check your closet just to be sure, but that’s crazy and much more invasive that what she was already doing. Her knuckles are turning white.
“And I think in another universe, maybe. Not this one. I can’t. You know why,” the stranger says sheepishly. “You’re so sweet.” And, in Abby’s imagination, there’s a dainty, gloved hand reaching out to caress your face condescendingly. The illusion entrances her to near paralysis.
A long pause from you. Abby listens hard, completely unable to stop herself from paying close attention now. In the near silence, Abby could sense your breath faltering through the door. Despite how the two of you left things, she didn’t want to see you hurting like that. Say something… Abby thinks.
When Abby hears you speak again, the sweetness in your voice has vanished. She nearly doesn’t recognize the sound. 
“Fuck…” There’s a lump in your throat, Abby could tell just from your voice when you were smiling and, just as easily, she could hear when you were about to burst into tears. “Why… why did you invite me out tonight then?” 
No answer.
“You have a boyfriend…” you continue in a matter-of-factly tone, raising your voice a bit, to Abby’s surprise. “Jeremy…yeah, so you’ve explained. Great guy, great future. So, you have the boyfriend, the good job lined up, you’re almost done with college. Man, you’re doing fucking great.” Abby’s mouth was left agape, her heart cheering with unwarranted pride for you, urging you on to read this stranger to filth. “Why start texting me again?” You ask.
“You’re here,” the woman clarifies indignantly, like it should be obvious. “I wanted to see you. I didn’t know you transf-”
 “That’s not what I’m ask- why’d you ask me out tonight?” You cut her off. “Purely to fuck with me?”
“No…”
“No, what? I’m just- I’ve always just been here at your disposal. Ever since we were teens. Chasing my tail around like a dumb dog, waiting for her master to one day be unashamed to be seen with me.” Abby’s hand travels to her mouth now in delight. She’s smirking like a clown, fully impressed with you. But, you were in tears at this point. Abby knew by now that, only drunk, would you show your tears like that. “Abby was right,” you mutter. Abby almost didn’t hear you.
“I’m gonna go,” the woman said. “It was good seeing you tonight.” It sounded like more of a question than a genuine statement. And then the sound of footsteps, a shadow moving away and then out of sight.
“Yeah. Go, for fuck’s…” You say messily. You were definitely not sober. And then Abby hears your body thud against the door one last time and senses you sliding down to the floor. She hears the tears. Abby instinctively began to get up, feeling the need to see you, talk to you, hold you. 
But she stopped herself. You wouldn’t even talk to her a few hours ago, why would you want her comfort now?
***
At that point in time, you and Abby were seasoned roommates. Well, not seasoned. You guys were in that awkward in-between stage of knowing each other where you’d half-memorized each other's schedules but there wasn’t any synchronicity to your dynamic yet. Changing clothes in the same room was still very touch-and-go.
However, when you first met there was immediate tension. It was winter then, and transferring colleges midway through sophomore year meant knowing absolutely no one. At least, you thought, you would have a roommate. But, when you first met, Abby was so much… harder. And, she was stoic and casual in a way that threw you off entirely.
“Are you looking through my shit?”
“No!” You said stiffly, whipping your head around to catch sight of the figure in the door. But, there you were. You stood fixed on her side of the room, where you just had your eyes deeply focused on the engraved rugby medals hanging on the shelf, her shelf. You were caught red handed and the lie came out of your mouth readily and in a panic. Abby was already smirking. 
“Yes,” you corrected yourself. “Sorry. I don’t know why I lied. But I’m just looking. I’m not going through it, per say, I promise.” 
Abby laughed and rolled her eyes. “Calm down. It’s fine.”
You smile and take five awkward steps over to your side where your bed was just a bare, blue mattress and your luggage rested waiting to be unpacked. It was a stark comparison between our sides of the room even still. Her bed was military neat, with perfectly tucked in covers and a single pillow centered at the head. The medals were all lined up but in a way that didn’t look too showy. Some polaroids were tucked into the creases between her window and the sill. Your suitcases were patterned and scuffed badly on the corners. Littered across them all were stickers you had found from anywhere you could find them. Your clothes made you look avant garde compared to Abby and you had a sudden knot in your stomach that told you to feel self-conscious. 
“They didn’t tell you who was moving in here, did they?” you asked.
“Ah. Typical administration shit. I didn’t even know someone was moving in today,” she explained, throwing her gym bag down onto her bed and then turning to you with an open hand to shake. “Abby.”
You shook her hand, returning her name with yours. You noticed the way Abby looked deeply into your eyes for a long second, too long for a first introduction. And the way she smirked at you while she did it confounded you; it was the same way someone held out their hand to a stray cat. To be fair, that was an accurate analogy. You were clad in winter jackets with a flushed face whereas she was radiating heat, skin almost steaming under her gym clothes. Her hands were rugged, you noticed.
“Well,” Abby said, turning to her bed and unzipping her gym bag. “I’ve been told I’m a good roommate. By no one actually. You’re the first roommate I’ve had since the first half of my freshman year. Uh…I keep to myself. I need quiet most nights because I get up early, so no boyfriends over on weekdays.”
You nodded along when she turned to you and sat on the edge of her bed wearing a slight grimace at that last idea. “But if you do, do me a favor and just text me beforehand. Don’t want to be walking in on any man butt.” You laughed a bit loudly at that. You just shook your head.
“No. That won’t be a problem,” you said. Abby caught your eye suspiciously and cracked a small and crooked smile.
“Okay,” Abby said. She turned back around, grabbed a towel from her drawers, and threw it on the bed. Then, she casually lifted her sweaty wife beater up over her head and it’s only then that you look at Abby long enough to notice her size and shape. She was severe, and you’d been so caught up in meeting her, you didn’t necessarily take in her physical appearance. But now that she faced away you could see the sheer definition of her body, starting at the dimples on her lower back trailing up to her massive shoulders. All of it glistening with a polished coat of sweat.  And the rest… it would take a few more interactions to even comprehend all of her.
She must have sensed the eyes on her back because she turned around. You looked away quickly, trying busy yourself with the things around you, but there was nothing. 
“Sorry,” your cheeks flushed red. But Abby was full frontal, positioned now with her messy hair unbraided, sprawled around her shoulders, grinning at you. She paused for a moment, maintaining eye contact, with only a towel around her waist.
But then she just shrugged, grabbed her toiletries, and said, “Later.”
You watched her leave. Watched her with wide eyes as she opened the door with one hand and used the other one to lazily cover her chest as she headed towards the showers. You even heard her say “sup” to someone on her way.
Alone, you felt the rush of the moment channel directly to your stomach and burst like flames across your face. 
***
That was just the beginning. Abby thinks of it now.
Now, face up on her bed, contemplating her next move, Abby recalls you as you were. She was immediately taken with you, that first day. Your wide eyes and timidity around her. Abby's own stupid, casual arrogance. Obviously, as Abby quickly learned later, that first impression of you was not at all fully representative of the truth. 
Maybe if she had stopped then, stopped the teasing, stopped what she intended to be light, meaningless flirting, Abby wouldn’t be hesitating to open the door. Perhaps she would be opening the door to find you in tears, take your face in her hands and tell you everything she’d been aching to say for three months now.
Abby gets up off her bed and walks to the door. She squeezes the handle, takes a breath, and then turns it slowly.
Comment if you want to be on this story's taglist!
Chapter 2
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quin-ns · 2 years ago
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Neighborhood Dilf (Joel Miller x Reader)
Word count: 2.7K
Summary: joel finds out he has a nickname and he asks you what it means
Tags: pre-outbreak this is a happy fic guys!! I didn’t specify a year but let’s put it at 2000 for funsies so sarah is like 11 and joel is like 30ish. also fluff, humor, flirting, age gap, goofy plot (I don’t know what this is honestly), joel being the definition of a dilf and not knowing it, crushes, overall cuteness. also suburbia
A/N: I saw a tiktok where someone said they just knew joel was the neighborhood dilf and they were so real for that I had to write it. and no I don’t care that the word was popularized online we’re using it here. I’m here to provide a cute fluffy fanfic not a historically accurate one lol. also sorry if your name is bee, I tried to come up with a name for the friend that was a nickname so if it was someone’s actual name they could just imagine their full name (I overthink)
TLOU masterlist + main masterlist
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The loud music coming from outside woke you up from your afternoon nap. After spending a semester at college struggling to find even an hour of sleep, you were taking as many of those as possible. You were a little grouchy at first as you threw your covers off and stormed to your window, but quickly calmed down when you realized it was the annual block party your neighborhood hosted during the summer.
You’d gotten an in-person invite from Bee, another girl home from college who you’d been friends with in high school before going your separate ways. You still kept in touch since she was nice enough, which is how you found out her family was hosting this year. She’d confided in you personally that she would quote “go crazy if it was all kids and old people.”
As you looked out into their front yard, which was diagonal to yours, you saw that’s pretty much all it was. Since you were such a good friend, you decided that you’d go. 
You were getting dressed (at a leisurely pace) when your phone started to ring. You picked it up from your desk after you pulled your pink sundress on and flipped it open. The caller ID read Bee’s name and you answered, ready to tell her you were on your way.
“He’s here,” she said, sounding mistified, before you could even open your mouth. 
“Who?” you wondered, furrowing your brows a little to yourself as you went to the window.
“The neighborhood dilf,” Bee replied under her breath. 
The nickname made you laugh. It reminded you of high school. It had started as a joke, something you had started calling the new guy who’d moved into the neighborhood with his daughter a few years back. Later you found out his name was Joel Miller, but the nickname spread like wildfire to all the other girls in the neighborhood and it just stuck. 
Everyone knew about it; the girls of course, their confused parents, jealous boys who thought Joel was stealing their attention—the only person who wasn't aware of the moniker (as far as you knew) was Joel. Well, you hoped his daughter didn’t know either. Thankfully, after time, everyone forgot that you had started it. It was a bit embarrassing.
You walked away from the window to your closet and slid on your flip flops—it was summer in Texas, after all.
“You need to get over here, Y/N—what?” the last word sounded distant from the phone. “Yeah, she’s supposed to be on her way,” Bee replied, but to someone else.
“Um, hello?” you asked, waiting.
Bee was quiet for a few seconds, then whisper shouted into the phone, “you’ll never guess what just happened!”
“Let me guess, Joel just walked up and professed his love for you,” you teased, laughing at your own joke. “What, were my parents asking for me or something?” you guessed for real that time, recalling the small bit you had heard her say.
“Unfortunately no, and also no,” she sounded a little too disappointed about the first part, which made you chuckle again. “He did just ask me about you though.”
“Who?”
“The dilf.”
“Just use his name,” you told her with a roll of your eyes, heading out of your room to the stairs. “Wait.” You stopped for a second. “Joel asked about me?” 
“Yeah. I changed my mind, you’re not invited.”  If it wasn’t for her obvious sarcasm you might’ve thought she was serious. “He heard me say your name and asked if you’d be here soon. I—hey!” she yelled, causing you to pull the phone from your ear for a second. You continued your descent down the stairs as she yelled something about ‘kids’ and ‘stay out of there’. “I gotta go,” she said suddenly, then hung up.
You just shook your head with a small, amused smile and left your phone on the counter. Stupid dress and no pockets. 
You headed out the front door and walked across the street towards the party. 
It was in full swing. Music, games, food table—it looked like something out of a magazine. The Grants had a huge front yard—it was one of the nicer houses in the neighborhood—and it seemed like everyone was there. There were kids running around, adults all mingling—some sitting at the fold out tables, others walking around, others chasing their kids—there was also a group of dads surrounding the grill. You glanced that way and didn’t see Joel. You wondered where he was and if you should find him, but Bee found you first.
“The kids aren’t supposed to go inside alone and two of those little jerks went into my room,” Bee complained right away, straightening out her white blouse over her jean shorts. Her pinned back brown hair was a little messy, though. You wondered what happened, which she quickly answered. “I saw them jumping on my bed through the window.”
“Sounds like fun,” you commented sarcastically. Bee looped her arm through yours. 
“My dad set up ring toss and it’s all little kids, I don’t wanna be the only adult playing. Come on.” She dragged you along in that direction and you willingly went with.
You saw a few kids from the neighborhood playing, mostly the preteens who were too old for hopscotch but whose parents had told them they weren't old enough for the mini golf (one of the boys had overshared that little comment). 
“Y/N!” a girl's voice called. You looked that way and saw Sarah Miller walking towards you. A few days out of the week when her dad was working late, you’d go over to their house and keep an eye on her (before you left for college). It was the easiest babysitting gig you ever had; she was polite, always did her school work, and hardly caused any problems. Her dad had raised her very well. 
She looked older than you remembered her being, but you had been gone for both fall and spring semesters—well, you had been home for winter break briefly, but not enough to see anyone other than your parents.
“Sarah, hi!” you greeted, accepting the hug she offered when she got close. “How are you?”
“Good!” she said with a smile. “Are you guys gonna play with us?” she asked you and Bee. “I keep beating them and it’s not fun anymore.” 
You and Bee both laughed at that. “Sure, why not.”
“It feels weird playing with her after talking about how hot her dad is,” Bee whispered in your ear when Sarah went first. “You think he’ll come over here?”
“And what would you do if he did?” you challenged while hiding a chuckle, raising your brows at her.
“Um, probably nothing,” she admitted, cheeks a little pink. “He’s fun to look at though.” 
You hummed. “You’re not wrong.” 
The two of you played a few rounds of ring toss, although Bee got very bored quickly. “Can we go get some drinks?” she asked after not that long of playing.
“Sure,” you decided. You waved bye to Sarah and the others as the two of you walked off towards the cooler.
Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed some of the other girls in the neighborhood that hadn’t been in attendance before. For a couple that you knew, it didn’t seem like their scene. 
“What are they doing here?” you asked Bee.
“I may or may not have also told them the neighborhood dilf was here. They, uh, wanted to… see him,” she answered, avoiding eye contact.
You raised your brows in slight disbelief. “Are you serious?” 
“I wanted more people our age here,” Bee defended. “I wasn’t sure if you were even gonna show.”
You scoffed out a laugh. “You’re ridiculous,” you told her.
You reached the cooler and knelt down. You handed Bee a water, but she didn’t accept it. You looked up at her.
“Keep an eye out for the dilf, I haven’t seen him in a while. I’ll be right back,” Bee told you, taking off before you could say anything. You guessed the bathroom given her speed walking inside.
You laughed a little to yourself as you stood back up. You kept the water for yourself. You looked out amongst the crowd, realizing you were now on your own while everyone was in groups. You saw a couple people you were friends with and thought of maybe going up and joining them, but someone else spotted you first.
Joel Miller, the aforementioned neighborhood dilf, was walking towards you. Bee would be jealous, especially if she knew you and Joel were actually friends.
You had thought about telling Bee and some of the other girls that you were friends with Joel, given how much they just loved to gossip about him (how he was still single, how he looked really good in his pajamas getting the mail, that one time he took his shirt off while mowing the lawn—that was a big day) but then you thought better of it, not wanting to be run out of town by a jealous mob.
You were already getting glances by the time Joel stopped by your side so maybe your humbleness was pointless.
“Saw you all alone, thought I’d come keep you company,” Joel broke the ice with ease.
How long had he been watching you? The thought made your cheeks feel warm.
“Wow, what a gentleman,” you teased lightly, causing Joel to chuckle.
“I try,” he joked back, shooting you a small wink.
When you had first met Joel you were nervous around him. It was much easier to talk to him now that the two of you had become friends rather than acquaintances. He was an easy guy to get along with and you found yourself genuinely enjoying his company rather than just gawking at him in his yard from your window (like you used to do in high school). Your crush hadn’t disappeared though, so you joked around with him as a way to keep things casual and avoid getting in your own head. 
“Sarah told me you were finally here, she was happy to see you,” Joel mentioned with a light smile.
That made you smile back. “She’s a sweet kid,” you told him. “I was happy to see her too.”
You fiddled with the water bottle in your hand as you spoke, trying to unscrew the cap. The stupid thing was stuck and after a few seconds you gave up.
Joel gave you an amused look, glancing between your face and hands. “You want help with that?”
“Yes, please,” you handed it to him. “There you go again, proving chivalry isn’t dead. Thank you.”
Joel unscrewed the cap with ease and handed it back. “Happy to be at your service.”
“So, you guys been here a while?” you asked, sparking up conversation.
“Not too long, only an hour or so. It’s been fun though,” Joel explained. “More for Sarah than for me,” he admitted, glancing around to find his daughter. He spotted her and she waved, then continued playing with her friends.
“Why’s that?” you wondered, looking up at him just as he looked down at you. 
“Just… I mean, everyone is nice and all,” he started. “But I just feel like I got nothin’ to talk about with them, y’know? Except you.”
“Really?” You tried to not sound too thrown off by that, but you didn’t know he felt like that. It was interesting to say the least. 
“Is that such a surprise?” he wondered, raising an eyebrow curiously.
You shrugged. “Maybe a little. I get it though, I haven’t really talked to anyone other than Bee yet.”
“I don’t know if you’re friends with them, but I saw a bunch of girls your age walking around,” Joel said as a suggestion. 
“Nah, I’d rather just talk to you,” you said casually, before you could even think about what you had said. The look on Joel’s face changed a little, like he was trying to bite back a bigger smile.
“Well, that’s nice to hear,” he said after a moment. Your eyes met his and the way he looked at you made your heart skip a beat. You had to look away to be able to breathe, almost certain you were reading into things. You really, really did not want to be disappointed.
“Hey, can I ask you something?” Joel said, making you realize you hadn’t spoken yet.
“Sure, yeah.”
“You know… young person lingo, don't you?”
You laughed at the awkward wording. If it had been any of the other adults here using the word “lingo” you would’ve cringed, but there was something cute about the way Joel said it. You tried to snap that thought out of your head.
“Mostly, yeah,” you replied with a little chuckle paired with a curious tone. “What’s up?”
“Do you know what a dilf is?” he asked bluntly. That alone told you he had no idea. 
You were so stunned, all you could think to say was, “why?”
“Well, those girls I mentioned… I overhead some of them calling me that,” he explained, his eyebrows furrowing a little. “It’s not bad, is it?” 
Was this karma coming back to you for starting the nickname? It wouldn’t have surprised you. 
“It’s not bad, no,” you assured while also avoiding the main question.
“What is it then?” Joel’s interest was piqued now and while you couldn’t blame him, you also couldn’t think of a way to make this not weird.
“It’s an acronym,” you started. Joel watched you intently, waiting for an explanation. “It means dad I’d like to…” you trailed off, hinting at him the word to fill in the blank.
Joel just looked even more confused. “To what?”
Somehow he made cluelessness incredibly attractive.
Screw it, you thought. This was already weird. Rip the bandaid off, right? “Fuck,” you finished before you could think better of it. 
“Oh,” he stated. You knew it took a second for realization to hit. “Oh. So that means they, um,”
“It’s basically like saying you’re hot,” you explained, filling in when he couldn’t. You hoped he wouldn’t find it insulting or anything like that.
Joel looked a little bashful but found amusement in the situation nonetheless. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You should,” you suggested, then sipped your water. You looked out at the people milling about rather than meeting his gaze.
“Do you think I’m one?”
You nearly choked on your water. “What?”
“Sorry,” Joel apologized quickly, trying to laugh it off. “I shouldn't've asked that.”
“It’s alright,” you assured him. You paused for a minute, contemplating what you might say to that. You got a rush of bravery. “If you’re asking if I think you’re attractive… the answer is yes.”
Joel couldn’t hold back his smile. He tried, but it was a failed effort. It was like he was trying to contain his anticipation. “What about if I wanted to ask you out? What would your answer be then?”
“Yes.”
Joel grinned. “I was hoping you’d say that,” he admitted. 
“Dad!” Sarah’s voice caused the two of you to look away from one another. You saw her running up to you guys and hoped she hadn’t heard a word of your conversation. “Can you come play with me? Mr. Grant just set up a bean bag toss!” 
“Sure, kiddo,” he told her. She grabbed his hand and started to drag him away. 
You smiled a little to yourself at the interaction—he was such a good dad.
Joel slowed her down a little bit to look back at you. “I’ll call you later, okay?” 
“Sounds good,” you replied, chuckling lightly. 
The Millers disappeared into the roaming people. You tried to follow them with your gaze but your attention got torn away.
“Waiting in a line for the bathroom in my own house is messed up,” Bee said, popping out seemingly out of nowhere. “What’s got you so happy?” she wondered, eyeing the smile on your face that couldn’t be erased.
“You won’t believe what just happened,” you replied. A part of you still couldn’t believe it. “I’ve got a date with the neighborhood dilf.”
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joel taglist: @the-ice-frozen-ground-red-rose @dontphunkwithmylove @cilliansangel @amethystwonders11 @frogsmuahh037 @andy-rocks @melllinaa @alitaar @melanie451 @b00kw0rmsworld @reverieisaway @avengersfan25 @aheadfullofsteverogers @strangeh0rizons @spideysimpossiblegirl @shannonmariebee
if you would like to be added to the joel taglist just send me an ask or a message! <3
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kjupchurch-xx · 3 months ago
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You're Mine (request on Tumblr for a jealousy filled fic featuring Tom Hiddleston)
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WARNING: For those that do not like SMUT, I'm sorry, you can skip this one. This is a request I got on Tumblr and I do honor all requests... within reason, LOL. 
Today was Hugh and I's third anniversary. The last three years have been amazing to say the least. We met five years ago when I'd stumbled into his coffee shop, Laughing Man Cafe, a coffee and tea shop he owned, located in New York. Hugh had stopped in to sign autographs and meet a few fans, I'd stopped in for a coffee, not realizing Hugh Jackman owned it. 
We began dating shortly after, getting married two years later. I'd always been extras in films, but he'd help me kick start my career as being a lead in some smaller films. I was always apprehensive about doing bigger films, so I strayed away from them. Hugh would spend hours going over lines with me to prepare me for various roles over the last few years. I checked my email noticing a script my manager sent over to me. It was a bigger film, of course and I had managed to get the part after a stressful audition. I didn't bother reading the script before auditioning, but I knew it was a rom-com with Tom Hiddleston, who was well known for playing Loki. 
"Holy shit." I mumbled, reading over the script. Hugh looked over at me from the opposite end of the couch, wearing his glasses, "What? Did you get dropped?" He asked concerned. 
I rolled my eyes, "Why do you automatically assume I was dropped from a film?" 
He chuckled, "What's with the 'holy shit' reaction?" He sat his laptop down, scooting beside me to see my phone. 
I took a deep breath, "Uh, well... There's a sex scene with Tom and I." 
He shrugged, "It's just acting, babe. You'll do fine. Sex scenes are fun to film."
I cocked my brow looking at him, "Really?" I asked sarcastically. 
He laughed, shaking his head, "I don't mean it like that. They're awkward. You're wearing these little bags and cover-ups, stimulating sex for hours. It's weird, but the key is to make each other laugh." 
He would know. He's the man that's always down for a good sex scene. 
I continued skimming the email, "Holy fuck! We're filming it at 5." I said mentally face palming as I jumped up to grab normal clothes, rather than the sweats and over sized t-shirt I was wearing. 
Hugh looked at his watch, "Oh fuck, it's 3:45 now. Let's get ready and I'll take you. Tom's a nice dude, you'll be fine, baby." He said as he jumped up to change out of his comfy clothes. 
As we got ready and jetted out of the door of our home in NYC, we flew through traffic and made it to the set with 10 minutes to spare. When we arrived on set, I was greeted by my manager, Tom's manager, Tom and a few of the film crew. 
"Ooooh, she brought Wolverine with her, Tom. You better be careful." one of the cameramen teased. 
Tom chuckled, "I'm always careful." as he made his way to Hugh smiling, "Nice to see you again, Hugh." 
Hugh smiled, "Hey Mate, nice to see you."
The director walked over to us, "Okay Jackman, as much as I love your beautiful ass, you're not in my movie. Get off the set." She teased. 
Hugh laughed, throwing his hands up, walking towards the side of the set, "You knew it would cost too much to book me." he said jokingly. 
Tom and I sat in the middle of the set with the director as she explained the script and how she wanted the intimate scene to take place. "So, we're going to get you two ready for the shot, you'll both be wearing cover-ups, so you won't actually be naked, but you'll appear naked to the audience and to the cameras." We nodded in agreement. "Whenever she comes in, I want you to pin her to the door in a full on make out with second base type thing, but you'll both still be clothed for that scene." 
We nodded, "Alright." we said in unison while going our separate ways to get into our character outfits. After about 30 minutes of changing and fixing our hair, we met back on set. A door separating us. This was my first time doing an intimate scene in a movie. I'd had brief kissing scenes over the years, but nothing to this level. I could feel my anxiety building as I took a deep breath, staring towards the door. 
"And, action!" The director yelled, slamming a marker. 
I grabbed the door, pushing it open to be met with Tom, grabbing me and intensely shoving me against it, pushing his lips onto mine. The kiss was deep, it was messy, there were shots where you see his tongue forcing its way into my mouth. Tom wasn't a bad kisser by any means, I will say that. The director decided the scene wasn't her favorite and wanted to re-do it two more times afterwards, wanting Tom to be more aggressive each time we'd kissed. 
I glanced over to Hugh, who was on the sidelines, playing on his phone. I could tell he was getting annoyed, but being the professional he is, not wanting to show it. Tom shook me from my thoughts, "You know, kissing you is pretty fun." He said, winking at me. I chuckled, not wanting to cause issues, but also shaking off the uncomfortable feeling his flirting was giving me. Hugh is typically not a jealous man, but I knew if he overheard the flirting, he'd knock this dude's teeth out and make sure he never did another Marvel movie again. 
On the third shot of the kissing scene, I felt Tom's hand brush slightly across my breast. Not enough for me to really react, but enough for me to know he did it. Not knowing if this was truly a coincidence, I shrugged it off as we went to get ready for the sex scene. I was completely naked, besides a small skin colored cover-up that literally only covered my vagina. Tom was wearing a skin colored bag that hid his dick. 
We wrapped ourselves in robes while we weren't filming to meet the director as she explained how she wanted the sex scene to go and what her expectations were. This was my first big film, and I knew if I wanted to score a good career, I had to sell it regardless of how I was feeling. As we made our way to the bed and stripped our robes, we both laid on the bed, under the comforter. The director wanted Tom on top of me, so he climbed on top of me and looked me dead in the eyes. I couldn't force myself to look over at Hugh, so I blocked him completely out of my brain and continued looking at the guy that was on top of me. 
"And, action!" The director yells, slamming her marker. 
Tom looked down at me, "Is this what you want?" He asks seductively, moving his hips in a motion as if he were positioning himself to enter me, throwing the comforter off of us, revealing our naked bodies. 
I moaned, biting my lip, "I want you." 
Tom stimulated his hips as if he'd slammed into me while I stimulated the scene to make it look as if I were matching his thrusts as both of us moaned. He took one of my nipples in his mouth and began sucking on it while still pretending to thrust into me while I drug my fingernails down his back and cried out his character's name. 
The scene in the movie only showed the sex for about two minutes, before cutting to a scene of both of us cuddled in bed talking about how we couldn't let our spouses find out about what we'd done. 
Tom giggled, "We can't let them know. This needs to be our dirty little secret." 
I smirked, "I know, I know... But you fuck so much better than anyone I've ever been with. He'll be out of town working all week anyways." 
Tom leaned down, kissing my head, holding me, "Do you know how long I've waited to do that? How hard it is being around you two and having to hide how hard my dick gets when you're around me... We're horrible people." He chuckled. 
I rolled my eyes, "What they don't know won't hurt them." I said as I playfully trailed my fingers down his stomach, "I want more..." I said seductively. 
"Cut! That was perfect, guys!" The director exclaimed, running towards us with our robes. 
Filming for the day had ended and I hadn't looked at Hugh in hours. I was too afraid to. I know this is what actors do and he knows good and well how acting in films can be, but something in me felt like this was going to be a disaster. As I put my normal clothes back on and told everyone bye, I noticed Hugh was outside on his phone. He looked pissed.
I walked up behind him, wrapped my arms around him, "I'm finished, baby. Do you want to get dinner?" I asked sweetly. 
He glanced at me, ending the phone and walking to get in the car, "Not hungry." He grunted. 
I opened the door of the car, awkwardly getting in, "We're going home." He said coldly. 
"Are you okay?" I asked, reaching for his arm, only to have him pull away. 
He kept his eyes focused on the road, "What's wrong, love? You won't even look at me." I said, starting to tear up. 
He scoffed, "What's wrong? You enjoyed that! You were really getting into that wannabe Wolverine motherfucker all over you!" He spat. 
My jaw dropped, "Excuse me? What are you talking about? I was doing my job, Hugh!" 
He laughed annoyingly, "Really? Your job wasn't to look like you were shooting a motherfucking pornography movie. It was to do a two minute sex scene and you took it too fucking far with him. Do you want to fuck him that bad?" 
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Was he really that jealous by me doing a sex scene in a movie he told me to audition for? 
I shook my head, "What are you talking about right now? I did exactly what the director asked me to do." I said in defense. 
He looked at me, "Really? Do you realize how fucking heartbreaking it is to watch a younger man, closer to your age all over you, sucking on your tits? Then you're both talking about good thing our spouses don't know. You know you were turned on by it. I know you."
I rolled my eyes, "Whatever, Hugh. Just get me home before I start walking. I'm seriously about to get out of this car." 
He scoffed again, "Yeah? Go ring Tom, I'm sure he'll pick you up." 
As we got home, he hopped out of the car, making sure he slammed the door and every door inside the house. He was being dramatic. Does seeing me stimulating a fake sex scene with an attractive actor that's younger than him bother him that badly? I'm literally doing what he does with other women, well maybe not that extreme, but does he forget that I have to see him kissing or flirting with other women onscreen in almost every movie or interview he does? I mean shit...Excuse me for just furthering my career. 
As the night went on, he seemed to calm down. I found him playing his piano, looking lost in his own thoughts. I walked towards him, "Are you finally calm?" I asked bluntly, bracing myself for the reaction. 
He shook his head cheekily, "I'm fine. Do you want to have a cuddle in bed?" He asked, smiling at me.  
I nodded, "Of course, love." I said, while grabbing his hand, leading him to our bedroom. 
As we approached the bed, he pushed me down, kissing me aggressively, biting and sucking on my bottom lip as if he were going to literally gnaw it off. "You really think he's better than me, huh?" He mumbled against my lips, causing me to roll my eyes. 
I brushed the comment off and continued the kiss, "Answer me." He growled while pushing his boner into my hips. "No..." I said lowly. "No, what?" He spat back, pushing himself further into my hips. "No baby, I don't." I said, looking up at him. 
"I sat on the side and watched him practically fuck you and touch you for hours. Do you know how fucking bad I wanted to rip his face off for touching my wife?" He asked as yanked my shirt off. "Watching him suck on your perfect tits... You're mine, do you understand that?" He said while pulling my pants off, leaving me in my bra and underwear. 
I nodded, "Yours..." He sat back up pulling his own clothes off as he climbed back on top of me, pulling my panties to the side, shoving his fingers inside me, while sucking on my neck. "This is my pussy." He whispered into my ear as his fingers danced inside me. 
I couldn't help the moan that escaped from my lips, "Oh fuck... Baby, don't stop." I moaned, while reaching for his boxers. "I want you." 
He pulled them down, revealing his hard cock, "You want me? Are you sure you don't want Tom?" He asked, cocking his brow at me as he rubbed my clit. 
I nodded, biting my lip so hard I could taste blood, "You're the only one I want..." I said as I reached for his cock, wrapping my hand around the length. 
"Show me." He said, pulling me on top of him. I slid down his frame, kissing every inch of his torso as I made my way down to his manhood. I felt him place his hand on the back of my head as I took him into my mouth. I sucked hard on the tip while letting my hand work the base as I felt him start roughly thrusting into my mouth as he threw his head back, his moans filling the air. 
"That's a good girl. Show me how much you want my dick." He moaned, as I began bobbing my head quicker taking his rough thrusts deep into the back of my throat. 
This was not like Hugh, but I was loving every minute of it. It almost makes me wish I'd taken more opportunities to push his buttons. I could feel him throbbing in my mouth as he pulled out not wanting to cum just yet. He glanced down at me, motioning for me to get on my knees. 
I did as I was told as I felt him push my panties to the side, entering me. His thrusts were fast and rough, not the sweet, romantic I was used to getting. He slapped my ass hard, "Is this what you wanted?" He grunted, "You wanted this cock, you don't want anyone else's cock, do you?" He gave a deeper thrust, "Answer me or I'll stop and you can go ring Tom instead." He yelled. 
I threw my head back, trying to form words as the feeling of euphoria overtook my body. "Fuck! Don't stop!" I managed to scream between moans, "I only want you." I said, trying to not let myself go this soon. 
He grabbed a handful of my hair, turning my face to look at him, "This is mine. All mine." He moaned. I could tell he was getting close, I could feel him throbbing inside me. "Cum for me, baby. Let me see how good I make you feel." He said while tugging on my hair. 
I let go and exploded on him, literally falling down to the bed as I felt him cum deep inside me. He collapsed beside me, breathless. "Do you feel better now?" I asked him chuckling, sounding a bit amused while trying to catch my breath. 
He chuckled, "I do. Are you okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?" He asked sweetly. 
There he was... There was my sweet baby. I smiled, "You didn't hurt me in a bad way, if that's what you're asking. Maybe I should make you jealous more often." I joked.
He laughed, pulling me closer to him, "Maybe so, love."  
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greenorangevioletgrass · 2 months ago
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if this is a sin, a punishment (a.d.)
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Pairing: art donaldson x popstar!reader
Summary: three years, three encounters. Moving on is a fickle thing, and why is it always worse the second time around? (part 1)
Word Count: 3.4k
Warnings: smoking, drinking, language, greek mythology references, some german slander lol, almost cheating?, art doesn't give a fuck lol, so much pining, hella angst (i swear the next part will be happy i swear!)
Notes: im back! work has taken up my brain capacity, and while im very grateful to write for a living now, i was unable to write for fun lol. but we're back, and i hope we'll have a good time reading. Big up to @ysuftmikey and @tommysparker for being awesome and hearing out my incoherent rambles about this story. But anyway, please comment, reblog, talk to me and tell me what you think about it! Happy reading!
**i do not have a taglist. Follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass andd turn on the notifications to be alerted for new fics and updates!**
Paris, June 2012.
As the new face of Dior, your appearance on the front row of their runway show is paramount. You’re not just there because you have to, you’re there because you love it. It’s equally important that you are well-versed in the thoughts behind next season’s trends of the fashion house. The fashion show is as much a celebration of craftsmanship as it is a coveted social event, and you’re oh so happy to be a part of it.
Or so you said in your Vogue cover story. 
In reality, you’re getting decked out and posing for pictures and scrutinizing the details of every look that comes out because it’s a job. Sitting next to some buff dude in a manbun that barely gives you enough space for yourself.
His broad shoulder bumps against yours, effectively snapping you out of your reverie. “Oh, sorry.”
You’re about to murmur a politely dismissive remark, but it all fades away when you see his face, profile-first. It’s been almost a full year since you last saw that silhouette. There’s no way of forgetting it, even underneath the dramatic lights of the runway, not even if you tried. 
“It’s you,” you breathe out, all wide-eyed and slack-jawed like an idiot in front of him.
He hears you before he sees you, really sees you, and his heart nearly stops. Of course! You’re right under his nose, and he didn’t see you. And how he yearned to see you since that night in London. How he wanted to lay it all out on the line, pour his heart out, but instead what comes out is…
“It’s me.”
The whole world starts again, pretty people milling back around as you blink. Warmth returns to your face, as you finally regain some sense. “Art!”
He murmurs your name as he hugs you, and he never wants to let go. He wants you to fucking come home with him because home doesn’t make sense until you’re here.
“Wow…” he flashes that signature crooked smile as he marvels at you—not stare, marvel. “What are the odds, huh?”
“I know!” You fight the flight of the butterflies in your stomach, but it’s impossible. “You grew your hair out, huh?”
“Yeah, just… trying something new.” His hand reaches up to the back of his neck sheepishly. 
The blond mop no longer frames his face like Apollo incarnate. You can actually see his face better now with his hair pulled back. The depth of his eyes, and the soft parenthesis of his smile. But at the same time, his facial features look… a little heavier now. A little older. More mysterious.
But of course, you can’t say any of that to him, so you settle with, “Well, you look great.”
Art lets out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. He’s rocked this look for a while now, but he wants—no, needs— you to like it.
“I heard you won the French Open, by the way. Congratulations.” Your hand lands on his shoulder, much like the last time you saw him, but neither of you address it. Not outwardly, anyway.
(If his heart flutters, he hopes you won’t notice.)
“Ah well, it’s… yeah. Thanks!” He can’t help but light up. He wonders if Wimbledon has hooked you into tennis, or maybe, just maybe, you were keeping up with him…? “What have you been up to?”
“I’ve just been in the studio a lot. Recording, mixing, mastering the new album…  boring shit.”
Art shakes his head. He doesn’t believe anything you do is boring. “When’s that coming out?”
“November. And if all goes well, we’re gonna tour it next summer.”
“Holy shit.”
“You know what they say. The devil works hard…”
But this unstoppable force of nature in front of him works harder. It has been almost a year since you last saw him. Eleven months and some 20-odd days since you shared that cigarette on that balcony. Since you broke his heart. And he still looks at you like a goddamn miracle. It disarms the fuck out of you.
“Hey, listen—”
“There you are!” a tall, leggy blonde cuts him off mid-sentence with a kiss to Art’s cheek, rambling in German as she takes the empty seat on his other side.
Fuck. 
Art replies back to her in German, a little more hushed, but your head is already reeling. You don’t know what to make of this feeling in your gut—it squeezes you from the side, and twists you all the way to your throat. Like wringing the air out of you. 
Art smiles almost apologetically at you, his hand falling on the woman’s knee. “Yeah, this is… Tatiana, my girlfriend.”
You exchange pleasantries and shake hands. Maybe. It’s all a blur and you’re fighting tooth and nail to stay present in this conversation. 
You manage a smile, pushing through the ache of trying to sound courteous. Friendly. Normal. “I was just telling Art that I’m going on tour this summer. You guys should definitely come to a show.” Emphasis on ‘you guys’.
Art opens his mouth, but Tatiana goes ahead and answers for him. Her glossy lips pull up into a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. She doesn’t even bother hiding it. “Hm, we’ll see. Art is very busy with his own tour, you see.”
“Of course. For sure.” You nod at Tatiana, getting the message. Your gaze barely grazes Art, even though you want nothing more than to reacquaint yourself with his features.
Art watches you turn away, fixing your gaze towards the runway, and his heart aches. The way his hand rests on Tatiana feels cold—he might as well be resting his hand on a railing. 
He keeps his gaze straight ahead at the models coming and going the entire show. And if he accidentally catches a glimpse of your profile, or your manicured hand when he looks down on his lap, he’ll take what he can get. God knows he doesn’t get to ask for anything for more. 
*****
The Dior afterparty is held in some French chalet, and after making the rounds with Tatiana, Art feels himself disengaging from the group conversation altogether. He mutters out an excuse to get a breather and wanders up the winding staircase. There are still people along the hallway, chatting and drinking by old-ass paintings and bust statues and tall vases. 
Art takes a gamble and opens a door, simply eager for some peace and quiet. The knob gives and the room is dark, save for a large bay window on the other side, the moon shining bright… and the girl sitting there.
“Hey, room’s taken!” You flick the ash off of your cigarette out the window, ready to fend for your occupation. But then you catch a glimpse of his face in the light, and you relax. “Oh. It’s you.”
Art feels his face flush. He really should back the fuck off and leave, but his feet only bring him closer and closer to you into the room. “Sorry, I was just trying to find someplace quiet. I didn’t realize…” he cuts himself off when he sees the cigarette between your fingers, and he chuckles.
“What? You know I smoke.”
“A woman of taste, huh?” His eyes flicker to the pack propped on the windowsill in amusement and he wonders if you smoked Marlboro Green because of him (You do.)
You grab the pack and slide a cigarette out for his easy access, but he doesn’t take it. Not right away. Shit, was this a bad idea? Does he not smoke anymore? “Come on, your secret’s safe with me.”
Art takes another look at the cigarette, then at the door. He raises his forefinger in wait, going over to shut the door closed and then rushing over to you with a mischievous smirk at the cigarette. He looks like a kid, giddily settling in for a forbidden vice. 
This time, you’re the one leaning over to light his cigarette. His hair falls over the other side of his face, and you watch him tuck the loose strand behind his ear. His eyelashes resting on his skin as he takes that delightful first drag. He can feel the nicotine hitting him straight to his head, and that’s how he wants to consume you.
You settle back in your seat against the wall, the smoking hand hanging out the window, and Art does the same. He sees your legs folded over to the side, almost touching him, and he has half the mind to pull them over his lap.
“It’s been a minute, huh, Art?” You take another drag, trying to calm your nerves down a little.
“Yeah, it really has.” He throws away his smile up at the moon, amused at how familiar this is. “Why are you hiding out here?”
”My shoes are killing me.” You absently massage your ankle with your free hand, throwing a sideways glance at your pair of So Kate’s on the floor. “And my social battery’s shot down.”
”That’s not very Dionysian of you.”
It makes you smile. He still remembers (though, in his defense, the whole encounter last year was pretty hard to forget). “I beg to differ.” You lift up a bottle of Moët that you stole downstairs. 
Art’s smile widens as he makes a grabby hand at the champagne. You happily hand it to him, fingers barely grazing against him. He takes a swig and thinks, let me just steal your kiss from the lip of the bottle. It tastes better than the five other glasses he had back at the party.
“So how have you been?”
An easy question for a loaded answer. Art shrugs. “Ah well, you know. Still training, still competing…”
“You still pushing that rock uphill, huh?” You can’t fight the knowing grin on your face.
Art groans with a haze of smoke in his wake, leaning back against the wall. “Ugh, don’t remind me. I’m all about that Sisyphean grind.”
“Shut the fuck up!” The words fly out of your mouth, and it makes him laugh. And you can’t help but laugh with him. “You just won the French Open. Isn’t that like a—what do you call it, a… Grand Slam right there?”
He raises his eyebrows at you, impressed at your improved tennis knowledge. Maybe Wimbledon did hook you in. “Yeah, well… I still need to win the US Open. It’s the only one that counts, right?” 
It’s absolutely ridiculous, Art knows that, but until then… There's no rest for the wicked like him. And you see right through him. It’s almost like looking in the mirror sometimes.
You roll your eyes, and he thinks it’s the cutest thing ever. “What are you, pressed for time? Relax. You’ll get there.”
“Fair point.” Art nods, hiding his flush in another swig of champagne. “In that case, things are pretty good. Training is good, I’m winning matches, hoping to win more…” he pauses, tucking a loose strand of gold waves behind his ear, “Tatiana and I are doing… well.”
He sounds almost regretful when he says it. But then again, you’ve gotten pretty good at gaslighting yourself into thinking it’s all in your head.
“That’s good,” you settle with a neutrally encouraging response. “She seems nice.”
This time, Art gives you the look. And he always looks so smug when he does it too—the little head tilt, the crooked smirk he’s sporting like he’s excited to get the rare leg up from you. It’s adorable.
So you relent, taking the champagne and chasing it with a huff of smoke.
“I’m sorry about Tatiana this afternoon, by the way. Didn’t realize she would be so…” he grimaces as he struggles to find the right word. Domineering? Territorial? Just outright bitchy?
“Nah, it’s fine. I just chalked it up to her… German predisposition, that’s all,” you deadpan, tapping the ash of your cigarette out the window.
“You’re horrible.” Art grins. He loves it.
There’s that smile you’ve been missing. “Besides, I didn’t know you speak the language.”
“I can get by. My coach is German, my best friend speaks German… I’ve been picking up more from Tatiana, but it’s mostly just… angry.”
His words make you frown. That doesn’t sound like a very happy relationship, if your girlfriend keeps shouting angry shit at you in her native language. Art is perfectly aware that you’re catching on.
And again, it feels like the two of you are operating on two levels of communications. The first one is whatever is spouted out of your mouths, and the second through these wordless looks that say so much more. With every exchange, there’s always a choice; to stay on the surface, or dive in.
Maybe it’s the sparkling liquid courage, or the white haze you share in this little nook, but your next response is neither a safe bet nor a daring risk.
“Do you guys fuck in German? Because that can’t be sexy.”
He cracks up, caught completely off-guard by your question. Leave it to you to always keep him on his toes. “No! God no. Absolutely not. That would be terrible.”
“I can imagine! Like, what would you even say?” You sit up to put on your worst voice possible, but making it breathy and porny, “Ja… ja… ooh, scheisse… oh, ich komme!”
Art bursts out laughing. A true laugh that comes from the belly. The kind that makes his face open up. “What in the Hitler was that?!” He keels over in absolute stitches.
“I mean, I don’t know!” 
The two of you laugh longer than it’s funny, like you’re both relieved from this charade of civil acquaintanceship and finally free to be who you truly are.
Which, in this case, means immature goddamn giggly children. 
Art relishes in this warmth. He has missed this so much, that he nearly forgot he never had this with you in the first place. His face softens. “What about you?”
“Oh, I don’t talk dirty in German. It’s unpatriotic.”
“Fuck off.” He can’t fight the giggles that’s taking over him, not when you’re already laughing at your own joke. His mind nearly gets sidetracked with the thought of you in bed. Would you keep making these witty one-liners while talking dirty? Or would you be completely pliant if he kisses you all over ehile balls deep into you— focus up, Art! “I meant… How’s the boyfriend?”
You smile wryly. It was your fault to joke about Tatiana, and now you got what’s coming back at you. You take a swig at the champagne, trying to play it off casually. “Didn’t work out.”
Oh. It’s sad news, really. But why is his heart perking up, knowing there’s no more guy on the phone on her end this time? “That’s a shame. Are you alright?”
“Well, I’m real fresh out the slammer, so… not really. But…” you shrug easily. “I’ll live.”
Art’s face softens. Sometimes the moments of vulnerability seeps through the cracks of your dry humor, and he gets to see the real you. The storm that’s brewing between your ribs. Head against the windowpane, most of your lipstick either on your cigarette filter or champagne bottle. A picture perfect of secret melancholia. 
“You wanna know the weird thing is?” You inhale the cigarette, and exhale the fumes through your nose, eyes still fixed on the darkness outside, the bitterness is just pouring out. “I can always see how it ends.”
“What do you mean?”
The sensations run through your veins faster than your brain can muster up words. The butterflies of initial attraction back then—the elation, anticipation… and that funny feeling, that ache in the gut that paints the picture. The fight or the cold war that ends it all. And how are you supposed to come back from that, knowing what you know?
“I can always predict the end… right at the beginning.” You put out your cigarette and tosses it out, the faux nonchalance rising again. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I am Cassandra.”
Art’s heart aches at that. It doesn’t feel right to be good this time. He almost wants to take it back, renounce Cassandra and he’ll give up Sisyphus so the two of you can be something else. Something different.
Something together.
Art puts out his cigarette as he studies your face. The pensive frown, the look of surprise… he loves that about you and everything in between. “I missed you,” he quietly admits. 
And there it is. The air is knocked out of you, and it’s just churning in your chest cavity. “I know,” you whisper back.
He leans in and touches your arm tentatively, and you don’t pull away. You can’t even if you tried. He traces the outline of your hair, his long fingers finding home on the side of your neck. His thumb traces your cheek, so carefully that he fears you would disappear into thin air. He needs you. Needs to know that he’s not hallucinating this.
This moment. This feeling. 
You.
You take his wrist, but you’re not sure whether it’s to pull him away or keep him there. “But we shouldn’t.”
“I know,” he echoes, although the way he fully leans into you is a whole other story. “I wanna kiss you so bad.”
“We shouldn’t.” You want to say it’s just him, you want to say that you’re stronger. Better than that. But the truth is, you gravitate towards him as much as he does to you, and now you’re just sitting there, both inching closer to each other until your foreheads are pressed together. “We can’t.”
He can’t find it in himself to lie anymore. He can no longer bring himself to care about the girlfriend he had, or whatever reason you’re thinking of right now. Valid, he’s sure, but he doesn’t give a shit anymore. “I know we can’t. But we want to, don’t we?”
“I’m not a homewrecker, Art.”
Art lets out a quiet huff. His thumb is still tracing along your jawline as if trying to commit your features to memory. He shakes his head softly. “If anyone’s a homewrecker, it’s me. It’s definitely me.”
“Art…”
“Yes?” You can wreck his whole existence, and he would thank you wholeheartedly. What bliss to be ruined in the hands of you. 
To his surprise, you pull him into a hug—and to be honest, you’re kind of beside yourself too. It makes him pause, but as soon as he realizes what’s happening, he surrenders.
Your arms wrap around his shoulders, with one hand caressing his long hair. You won’t give in, not to your desire. Not tonight. But for a moment, you let yourself imagine what it’s like to be in his arms. What it’s like to be his. 
Each breath he takes hurts because you steal every single one of it, but he swallows it down. His arms encircle your waist, and he braves through the pain because this is his only chance to pretend. Art burrows himself into your neck and makes a home there. You gladly let him in.
For the longest time, you just… stay there. 
“I never want to leave…” there’s such pain in his tone. Such sorrow. Defeat.
“Me neither…” It chokes you from the inside out. But he won’t be the one to end it, so you’ll have to take one for the team. “But we have to.” 
He knows that, but his heart shatters anyway. You kiss him on the forehead, lingering as if it would tell him what you wanted to say. All the what-ifs and could-have-beens. It’s all a tangled mess in your throat, impossible to get out.
You feel a droplet where your hand cups his face the same time Art feels a single tear slide from his forehead down his nose. It’s comforting and disconcerting at times. .
For a fleeting moment, Art nearly hopes this is the moment you change your mind. Say ‘fuck it’ and stay.
But you pull away, and all hope is lost. It leaves with your laughter that echoed in this room just moments ago. 
You take a deep breath, and with a gentle swipe of his tears and tenderly fixing his tousled hair, you do the right thing. “I’ll see you around, Art.”
Art barely manages a nod, staring at the intersection between the wall and the windowpane, as you gather your shoes and your purse and pads out towards the door.
Thunk. 
He turns and sees you leaning your head against the doorknob. Your shoulders are shaking in silent sobs, and he wants to chase after you so bad. But before he can move, you turn the doorknob and disappear out of sight. Leaving him worse off than he ever thought after holding you. 
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rosenclaws · 2 months ago
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Storytime (rainy days part ii) | Leopold Mountbatten x reader
summary: Leo has become the perfect guest and friend in your little shop and you realize that you can put him to good use as a children's story teller.
cw: fem!reader, fluff, me simping for leopold lol, poorly written story aksdfjl
a/n: okay so I wasn't sure what to do with this story but this idea popped into my head and I got to writing as soon as I could <33 I hope u like it!!
read part 1 here
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Leopold was the best thing to happen to you. The moment he stopped into your store you knew he was something special. Then he explained everything about how he got here. To be honest you thought he was lying. I mean to think he came from the past?
But he seemed so sincere and there were things that just couldn't be explained that you believed him. The sincerity in his eyes drew you in and kept a hold on you.
When the rain let up you were sad, knowing that he had to go. He promised he'd come back and he did, over and over again. He's your friend, even if you fantasized about more, you're happy to be friends. 
"Good morning Leo," You hand him a cup of tea which he gladly takes. He takes a sip and smiles. 
"Perfect as always." You turn away as you bite your lip, not wanting him to see you flustered. It's not fair how easy he was able to reduce you to a giggling mess. He notices the stack of boxes by your door and sets down his cup to take a peek. 
"Children's books?" He pulls out a few that he doesn't recognize. Some were picture books but others were chapter books. 
"I realized I don't have many kids books here and I wanted to open up my stock to welcome all ages." You say as you pick the books out of his hand. You reach down to pick up a few boxes but Leopold beats you to it. He effortlessly picks up the boxes filled with books. Your eyes linger on his arms before turning your head away. Walking away towards the soon to be kids section. 
"Over here would be perfect Leo," The door chimes alerting you to a customer and you quickly turn your attention to them. Leopold starts to unpack the books and put them away. He flips through a few picture books with curiosity. The children's books when he was a kid weren't nearly this colorful. 
"That's my favorite!" He looks up to see a little girl pointing at the book in his hands. 
"This one?" He glances at the cover, If you give a mouse a cookie. He scrunches his nose and shakes his head. 
“Why would you ever give a rodent a cookie?" The girl giggles and sits down on the chair next to him. 
"It's funny, because he just keeps asking for stuff." She looks at him with wide eyes, silently begging him to read the book. He sits on the ground and opens the book. 
"If you give a mouse a cookie, he's going to ask for a glass of milk." He reads through the book, capturing the attention of a few other people. Leopold's voice is enchanting that's for sure. 
"What a demanding mouse." "Read it again!" He laughs as the girls mother comes over, apologizing on behalf of her daughter. He stands and puts his hands behind his back. 
"It's no trouble at all, It was a delightful story." 
"Do you work here?" She asks sweetly. 
"No, he's my friend." You step in with a smile. 
“You should keep him around, it might be good for business." Leopold tilts his head in confusion as she leaves. "Keep me around?" 
"I think she was flirting, though that's not a bad idea." You take a look at the stack of books and an idea pops into your head. He lifts his eyebrow as a smile spreads across your face.
"I need to ask you a favor."
That favor turned into many more as children's story time became a massive success. Of course you offered Leo a job and he quickly accepted. It was no brainer to him. Now he reads books every weekend and he’s got quite the knack for it.
It didn't matter what book he picked, he was able to weave a story that had both kids and adults listening to every word. You included. He was mesmerizing to watch. Though you noticed some of the adults were there just for Leopold, not that you could blame them. Even as you helped customers your eyes always went back to him. Sometimes he'd look over at you too. A bright smile as he sends you a wink that reduces you into a flustered mess every time.
This time though was a different story. The kids begged him to tell a new story, one they've never heard before. That caught your attention. People crowded around him as he thought for a moment. His eyes drifted to you, watching you work as everyone else waited for his story. A soft smile appears on his face as he launches into his story. 
"Once upon a time there was a prince who fell through time." You recognize the story as his own but with a few tweaks. Turning his uncle into a villain who wants him to marry an evil witch and his friends into helpful animals who lead the prince to his true happy ending. 
"The prince had been banished, lost in the rain with nowhere to go when suddenly he stumbled upon a small shop." All other tasks have been forgotten as you stand in the back of the crowd, your ears perk up, this is where you come in. You wonder what he'll have you be. Maybe a fairy? 
"The prince entered the shop and inside of the shop," His eyes darted to where you're standing. 
"Was the most beautiful maiden he had ever seen." You have to stop yourself from reacting, surely he's just exaggerating for the story right? 
"She took him in, fed him and he told her his troubles." To your shock he weaves through the crowd until he's standing in front of you. 
"What are you doing?" You whisper in a panicked tone. 
"Telling a story," He whispers back. 
"Whatever shall I do," He says louder, slipping back into character. The kids' eyes land on you as you stumble for something to say. 
"You have to go back, your kingdom needs you." You try your best and it seems to work for him. 
"You're right, I must go back to save my people." He grabs your hand and kisses your knuckles. He gently guides you through the crowd, having you sit and pretend to be kidnapped by the witch. 
"Help me my prince," You say dramatically, placing your hand on your forehead. The kids laugh as he acts out the rest of the story. Using an old paper towel roll as a sword he "defeats" the witch and saves his kingdom. 
"My hero," You tease as Leopold takes you in his arms. He smiles warmly and you can't help yourself. With a burst of confidence you lean in and kiss his cheek. 
"Thank you for saving me," Leopold stands there stunned for a moment. Nervousness in your eyes as he doesn't react. What if you went too far? Worries start to swarm in your head until he snaps back to reality. He brushes his fingers along his cheek and smiles. 
"Of course my princess." For a moment it's like everything disappears and it's just you and him. His cute floppy hair and gorgeous face, he really does look like a prince. The door chimes as people start to leave, pulling you from your fantasy.
"I uh, better go back to the register." You say shyly. 
His hands drop from your sides as you rush past him. Thankfully the store is busy enough to keep you from having to face Leo for the rest of the day. Worries swarm in your head, wondering if you had just made the biggest mistake of your life.
It wasn't even a real kiss, just a kiss on the cheek and yet it feels like you can't go back. You don't even want to see him right now, fearing that if you look at him it will all come spilling out. When the last customer leaves you sigh in relief, flipping the sign to closed. 
"Hello," You jump as you turn to see Leopold standing behind you. 
"I thought you left already," You look at the ground as you try to walk away but he stops you.
"I apologize for bringing you into the story, I did not mean to make you uncomfortable." You feel guilty as he apologizes. 
"Don't worry about it, I had fun." There's a few moments of silence before you speak again, wanting to hurry up and forget anything ever happened. 
"I'm sorry for earlier," 
"Sorry for what?" 
"The kiss. I'm sorry if It uh, it was uh..." You don't know what to say. You're a mess, a complete mess as he stares deeply into your eyes. Jesus it's like he fell out a fucking book sometimes. It all becomes too much. The words vomit from your mouth before you can stop yourself. 
"Look Leopold, I really like you and I just, I'm sorry if I let my silly crush get in the way-Mmph!" Your words are cut off with his lips on yours. Your eyes flutter closed as you cup his face with your hands. His lips are soft and sweet. To your disappointment it ends too soon. His thumb runs along your lips as you both catch your breath. 
"Forgive me for being so forward,” He whispers. “I, how did you put it, really like you too.” You laugh shyly and Leopold takes your hand.
“So my princess, Would you give me the honor of taking you on a real date.”
“Yes, but only because you saved me from an evil witch.” You joke, still feeling giddy.
His hands slip to your sides, holding you close as he leans in for another kiss. Your hands snake to his hair, tugging him closer until your back hits the counter and knocking over a pile of books. Though you could care less as you pull apart. His hair is a mess and you reach up to try and fix it. The store fills with quiet laughter as the two of you slowly fade into your own fairytale ending.
Maybe happily ever after isn’t just for books anymore.
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saetoru · 1 year ago
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。underneath the stars (looking for a sign)
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synopsis. al-haitham thinks waking up beside you feels like a dream—well, until it doesn’t
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— word count. 4.1k (how did a drabble get here sobs)
— contents. pining al-haitham, honestly it’s mutual pining lol, gn! reader, implied one night stands, consumption of alcohol (both reader and al-haitham) reader is a matra, al-haitham is acting grand sage, it’s basically the “avoid my crush after i accidentally sleep with him until he corners me” trope lol, confessions, brief angst and then a happily ever after, sfw + fluff, not proof read—this was entirely written on tumblr drafts through mobile app. yeah. we raw dogged this bad boy lmao
— notes. if you knew. how many wips i have with him. you would be astounded :,) he’s all that matters anymore
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al-haitham wakes up to a bed much softer than his, red flag number one. there’s also a weight on his chest, red flag number two. red flag number three, however, doesn’t make itself apparent until he opens his eyes and sees you.
oh. not good. you’re covered in the sheets, but you’re clearly…topless, and a quick glance at his own torso tells him he’s also not clothed. oh. double not good.
but there’s also a small voice in his head that’s cheering and patting himself on the shoulder—he’s managed to fall into the bed of the very person he’s been quietly pining over for months, what more can a guy possibly ask for?
but unfortunately, his mini celebration in his inner thoughts is disrupted when you open your eyes at the disturbance from his movement—and before he can get even one word in, you shriek. rather loudly, too—it makes him wince at the sound (he’s always had sensitive ears.)
“what are you doing here?” you gasp, “and why haven’t you got a shirt—wait. why haven’t i got a shirt on?”
“well, it seems—”
“you slept with me?” you gasp again, cutting him off as your face twists in disbelief, “while i was drunk?”
“i was drunk too,” he points out, frowning at the accusations. al-haitham is a respectable man, and more importantly, he cares about you too much to take advantage of your inebriated state like that. “it was a two way street.”
that seems to calm you for…approximately two seconds before your face twists in horror again.
“al-haitham,” you wail his name in despair, slumping onto your mattress in defeat, “this is the worst thing we could have done. do you realize that?”
oh. you regret this—the voice in his head suddenly stops cheering. it deflates, in fact.
worst thing. is this really the worst thing? al-haitham thinks you both have always gotten along rather well, and he’s always taken your slightly stuttered words and nervous chuckles as a testament to holding the same attraction he holds for you. but maybe he was too quick to assume you feel the same, and your words now feel like a boulder on his chest. they’re heavy. soul crushingly heavy, in fact—but he keeps the blank expression on his face ever so easily.
“yes, it seems a bit inappropriate for coworkers to have an entanglement,” he agrees after a moment, making you whine at his word choice.
“you don’t have to call it that,” you huff.
then, out of sheer curiosity (and absolutely nothing else), you take a quick peek from the corner of your eyes at his chest. in your defense, his shirt leaves practically little left to the imagination, and when else will you get the opportunity to see his (very impressive) chest? a peek won’t hurt.
you’re thoroughly impressed when your eyes catch his sculpted pecs. his eyes are thoroughly unimpressed when they catch your gaze.
“well, what would you like to do about our predicament?” he asks flatly.
acting uninterested is the hardest part, he realizes. here, you’re within reach for his arm to curl around you, and yet somehow, there still feels like there are miles of space between you in the sheets. it’s a bitter reality, he thinks, one that stings a bit more than he’s ever really imagined.
al-haitham has witnessed lots of rejections in his time. whether it’s at the akademiya where he is the unfortunate witness of a rejected confession, or in novels he reads of unrequited feelings. he however never thought he’d land himself in the same situation—even if he hasn’t technically confessed to you yet. but your reaction definitely feels like one, and he’s smart enough to deduce that if he did confess, you wouldn’t take too kindly to the idea.
sure, it’s a bit unprofessional for the acting grand sage to have a relationship with one of the akademiya’s top matra that he works with rather frequently, but al-haitham is only the temporary grand sage. technically, after this, he will be going back to being the scribe who makes himself scarce on a regular basis. and it’s not very unprofessional for the scribe and a matra to be romantically involved, he’d like to argue. most people meet their significant others through the akademiya in the first place—why should he be any different?
but one glance at your face tells him you’re rather unhappy with this situation. he thinks he can hear a crack where the boulder resides on his chest.
“i think you should leave,” you mumble, chewing nervously on your lip, “and don’t say anything about this to anyone. especially not cyno.”
“noted,” he says blandly. you turn away, letting him have the privacy to rise out of bed and dress—which he does as slowly as possible, just to drag out the feeling of being in your bedroom for just a while longer—before he says clears his throat. “i’ll be seeing you,” he says.
“sure,” you nod awkwardly, “see you at uh…see you at work.”
with that, he walks out of your bedroom, and sees himself out. as soon as you hear the front door shut, you turn and scream into your pillow—the same pillow that happened to be under al-haitham’s head for the entire night, the same pillow that smells like his shampoo.
you think for a moment how you can never wash this pillow case again—and then, when you realize just what you’ve thought, you scream again.
you might just be entirely screwed.
—————
“and where have you been?” kaveh is waiting in the kitchen as soon as al-haitham enters.
great.
kaveh has a talent for making himself available to chatter away into al-haitham’s ear on the most stressful of days. whether it’s to greet him with complaints about having no help with cleaning after a long day of work, or to bang on his office door and demand an explanation for rejected funds as he does paperwork, or to ask where he’s been after he’s been wounded rather harshly by the one person he’s ever felt romantically inclined for, kaveh is always there at the worst possible timing.
leave it to kaveh to sour his mood more.
“i don’t see how it’s any of your business,” al-haitham mutters, grabbing the glass of water on the table and chugging it to help with the slight hangover he nurses—it’s evidently not his best morning in more ways than one.
“hey, that’s my glass,” kaveh scolds, “get your own.”
“it’s actually my glass. from my grandmothers set,” al-haitham corrects his roommate, “and i pay the water bills. so it’s my water too.”
“you—” kaveh shakes with frustration. it would pull a bit of an amused grin on al-hairham’s face if he wasn’t in the worst mood possible. “nevermind,” kaveh huffs, crossing his arms, “where were you—wait, is that a hickey?”
“no,” al-haitham says instantly, pulling his cloak higher to cover his neck—but kaveh beats him to it, reaching over and inspecting his skin. he seems to light up as soon as he realizes it is, in fact, a hickey on al-haitham’s neck.
“it is a hickey,” he grins gleefully, gasping in sheer disbelief that al-haitham seems to have some sort of life outside of work and home, “this can’t be. did you pay someone to get into bed with you—”
“just because some of us can afford such services doesn’t mean we indulge in them,” al-haitham grumbles, which earns an offended gasp from the blonde, “and i’m not obligated to tell you where, or with who for that matter, i was—”
“was it that matra you’re always standing around with?” kaveh grins knowingly, cutting him off.
the mere mention of you must make his face fall—which is new, because al-haitham has always been good at hiding his emotions on his face. but kaveh seems to have realized he’s overstepped, because his smile fades just as quickly as it comes.
“it doesn’t matter,” al-haitham mutters, “it was a mistake.”
“a mistake? but you’ve been pathetically pining for months, anyone with eyes can see—”
“i’ll be going to work now,” al-haitham cuts kaveh off, “make sure you pay this months rent on time.”
with that, he turns, making his way to his room to shower and then be off to the akademiya—where he equal parts hopes he doesn’t see you, and equal parts hopes he runs into you just to catch a glimpse of you again.
—————
you haven’t seen al-haitham is six days—correction: you’ve avoided al-haitham for six days. admittedly, it’s becoming increasingly difficult seeing as he is the acting grand sage, and you do need him to approve of your reports from recent investigations—but then you remember how six days ago, in the darkly lit corner of the street on your way home, you both kissed.
(and yes, it was a drunken mistake—neither you nor al-haitham value public displays of inappropriate affection between coworkers, but that doesn’t erase what happened.)
perhaps it would be easy to laugh it off as an impulsive action the both of you took while being under the influence, but then you both stumbled into your house. and then your bed. and then a kiss turned into more…and then next thing you knew, you’ve been awakened to a very unclothed (but still very handsome) al-haitham next to you in the mattress.
you should be mature and face him—people can sleep with people and not let it mean anything, proper adults would simply brush over this and never look back. but al-haitham is a bit of a difficult scenario.
he’s handsome—painfully so, with those sculpted muscles and those soft strands of hair that fall perfectly over his face. but more than he is easy on the eyes, he’s a charming individual. at least to you—you think the majority of the akademiya would have to disagree.
but al-haitham is kind, he greets you properly, holds doors open for you, and he often notices when you’re tired just by looking at you before giving you extensions on reports. he’s caring, you can tell because he’s helped people more than once, and while he claims it’s for the sake of his own convenience so he can avoid extra trouble, you know that he doesn’t have the heart to turn away from those that need him. more importantly, al-haitham is disciplined—it’s something all matra such as yourself can appreciate.
he seeks out knowledge in the most moral of methods, he never crosses limits or abuses power even when he holds the ability to, and he never takes advantage of the authority he may hold over others.
he’s wonderful, you can’t help but think—and admittedly, his hands also have very attractive veins that make you sweat a little. but that’s not the important part, of course. the important part is how perfect his character is, if you take the moment to understand it. and you like to think you understand it—much more than most at the akademiya.
except romancing the akademiya’s grand sage isn’t the best look for a matra—especially if you want to climb up the ranks soon. you don’t want rumors spread to undermine your hard work…or worse, be accused by the general mahamatra of taking your position as the grand sage’s lover to your advantage for work gains.
cyno is a strict individual—you’d hate to get on his bad side. and just as you think about how awful it would be if he got the wrong impression, he walks right up to you.
with that serious look on his face—why does he always have that serious look on his face?
“grand sage al-haitham requests you in his office,” he says. you don’t detect any suspicion in his voice, and it seems like a perfectly normal statement, but that’s the thing about cyno. he’s too good at not letting his movements be read, too good at cornering caged animals before dragging them by the ankles out in the open, exposed and vulnerable.
you gulp. “did he say why?” you ask, “i’m a bit busy.”
“no,” cyno shakes his head—and then he looks at you oddly, “you don’t seem busy.”
“well….this report won’t write itself,” you chuckle nervously, which only makes his brows furrow in confusion.
“wasn’t that due two days ago?”
fuck.
“yes….but al-haitham gave me an extension.”
“he seems to give you a lot of those,” cyno points out, unimpressed.
well, that’s great, you think. surely, there is no other matra as good at losing composure and making things more obvious for themselves than you.
“i haven’t been feeling well,” you say quickly—which isn’t the worst excuse, seeing as you’ve hardly shown your face at the akademiya for the last few days.
cyno seems to buy it too, because he nods in understanding before giving you a concerned look. “you shouldn’t push yourself, you know,” he lectures, “being sick snot fun.” you blink, and he looks thoroughly amused with himself. “get it? because when you’re sick, you might have a runny nose? snot? and—”
“right,” you nod, “i’ll be seeing the grand sage now. i wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.”
at least you know cyno has not made any….inappropriate assumptions if he’s making jokes, as painful as they might be. you’re not sure if you’d rather face al-haitham or continue to listen to the general mahamatra’s interesting sense of humor, but the closer you get to the grand sage’s office, the more you want to turn back and find cyno again.
but you’re an adult, and adults do adult things sometimes, and sometimes they’re not the most ideal, but the only way to handle such situations is the adult way—to be mature and not let things get in the way of being professional. easy enough.
at least, you hope.
—————
“you called for me, grand sage?”
ouch. al-haitham has now been reduced to grand sage, not just al-haitham. he looks at you for a moment, and he tries—really, he does—to seem unbothered, but his brows crinkle before he can stop them.
“i did, yes,” he says, looking at you.
you look lovely—which, you always do, even when you’re nervous. he can tell you are because you have that habit of chewing on your lip when you’re nervous, and he hates that he makes you anxious enough to do that right now.
al-haitham has always hated the gap between him and everyone else—not because he enjoys being close to others, but because it’s burdensome to always seem like a pretentious asshole. being interpreted as one over the years has left him quite numb to what other people think….but that’s not the case with you, unfortunately. he wonders if you’ve ever thought he was an asshole, or if you’ve ever felt that he acts like he’s better than you are. he hopes you’ve never talked to him and thought he’s condescending like kaveh insists he is—he hopes you find value in his honesty and find him insightful.
he thinks you might have at one point, if the way carrying conversation with you is so easy is of any proof. it feels natural, talking to you. your voice is smooth, especially when it reads over mission reports to him in his office. your laugh is even smoother, though—it’s soft, and honeyed, it sounds like something he’s been missing his whole life.
everything about you feels like something he’s been missing his whole life, like he was born to be with you by his side, and he’s been empty without you all along.
you clear your throat, handing him papers as you pull him from his thoughts and say, “here is the report for that last investigation,” you say quietly, “i apologize for the untimeliness. it won’t happen again—”
“that’s not why i called you,” he cuts you off.
al-haitham is a straightforward man. he’s watched many confessions, and he’s read about many confessions, and he’s even thought about how his own confessions might go should he ever find someone he finds interest in.
but this isn’t interest. al-haitham is not interested in you—he needs you. to call this a confession might be incorrect, he thinks for a moment, because this almost feels like he’s about to plead for you to give him a chance.
“oh,” your voice is small.
you think you have an inkling of an idea of what he’ll bring up, and you contemplate running out of his office and begging cyno to tell you a few more of his jokes….or a few dozen….maybe a few hundred to be safe.
“we should talk about that night—”
“well, there’s not much to talk about,” you say simply, “you and i are consenting adults, and we happened to be heavily under the influence, which caused a lapse in judgement. it’s a bit unprofessional, sure, but as long as neither of us say anything, and as long as we manage to keep a professional atmosphere between the two of us, there shouldn’t be any—”
he cuts off your (rehearsed in the bathroom mirror many times) speech as he clears his throat. “i….” the words are caught in his throat.
for a lifetime of straightforward honesty and blunt words, it seems like now of all times he can’t seem to speak.
“you…?” you motion for him to continue.
“i enjoyed it.”
you sputter. his eyes widen as he stumbles over his words when he realizes what he’s really said.
“grand sage,” you gasp, “i think that’s hardly appropriate for—”
“n-no, i meant i enjoyed you,” he says quickly, making you furrow your brows.
“and what does that mean? because—”
“i enjoyed being with you,” he croaks. it’s a good thing kaveh isn’t here to witness this, because as a self proclaimed expert at love (which al-haitham would have to disagree), kaveh would have an absolute ball watching this. “i don’t….i would prefer if we didn’t pretend nothing happened,” he mumbles, “if you feel the same, that is.”
everything about al-haitham is hopeful. from the way his eyes watch your every movement as they stare at you, to the way he clutches the pen in his hand tightly in anticipation of your response, he’s hopeful. you can tell.
you can tell he’s hopeful you’ll say yes, that he’s hopeful you’ll say you feel the same way as him, that he’s hopeful he’ll see you again in a setting that’s not just for work and mission reports and investigation details.
he’s hopeful you’ll say yes to his pleading eyes and fill that empty spot beside him that’s been empty for far too long.
and it feels like swallowing lead when you sigh heavily and watch the hope crumble.
“al-haitham,” you mumble, “this wouldn’t be very wise, you know?”
“and why’s that?” the hurt in his face is almost tangible.
he’s not foreign to rejections, he’s witnessed them his whole life. he watched that haravatat scholar that declined the amurta one outside of class that one year. he read about that main character that found self respect and declined the toxic love interest in that novel he read last summer. he’s declined his own fair share of confessions by random scholars that stare a bit too long at his chest and arms for his liking.
but for some reason, he never imagined it to feel like this. like being with your for one second longer might just burn his skin, but being away from you might leave him cold and numb. al-haitham thinks that if you walked out that door, you might just take every bit of warmth he’s ever known from him—but sitting in front of you, in front of your sorrowed expression and sympathetic eyes….it might be too much heat for him to handle.
“well, you’re the grand sage, and i’m a matra—”
“acting grand sage,” he corrects, “it’s temporary. i’ll be back to being the akademiya’s scribe in a short bit.”
“but people talk,” you insist, “and i’ve worked hard to be a respectable matra, and i wouldn’t want anyone to think i’ve slept my way to the top. plus, the general mahamatra is technically my boss, and he’s very strict—”
“the general mahamatra and i drink at taverns together quite often,” he says pointedly, “he’s well aware of how i feel.”
“you told cyno?” you gasp, shooting him a sharp look, “i asked you specifically not to—”
“he’s known of my feelings before that night,” he assures, “evidently i’m not very subtle.”
“well,” you hum, biting back a smile, “no, you aren’t.”
he raises a brow, tilting his head in confusion. “you’ve known?”
“al-haitham,” you chuckle, eyeing him fondly. something about the way your smile is so bright makes him clutch his pen tighter. “you aren’t the most social, you know. but you always have something to say to me.”
“that doesn’t always mean anything,” he mumbles, blush rising to the tips of his ears.
he’s endearing this way, you decide—when he’s flustered and almost pouting and flushed a bright shade of pink. you think for a second that maybe, if you kiss him for a bit in the comforts of his office, no one will ever have to know.
“but it does, doesn’t it?” you tease.
“and if you’ve indulged it all this time, am i safe to assume it means something to you too?” he asks, raising a brow.
you should say no. sleeping with the grand sage and kissing him in his office and maybe even going on dates and possibly holding hands is hardly a good look—but the scribe….well, maybe the scribe is a different story.
“ask me again when you’re the akademiya’s scribe,” you say, biting back a smile, “perhaps my answer will be different then.”
“i see,” he nods, biting back a smile of his own, “i suppose the grand sage isn’t everyone’s type, huh?”
“no,” you chuckle, “i suppose not. but the scribe….well, he’s rather charming.” you walk up to him, lean down and press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth as you mumble, “i don’t mind waiting for the scribe.”
“well, lucky for you, you won’t have to wait too long,” he hums.
he watches you leave his office—and then he decides that when he clocks out at five pm sharp later, he’ll go straight home, tell kaveh that he is, in fact capable in the field of romance, and demand this month’s rent.
—————
“haitham, we’re out of eggs,” you pout, poking your head out of the fridge, “will you bring some on the way home today?”
“we would have eggs if kaveh didn’t use all of mine,” al-haitham grumbles, glaring at the blonde who gasps in offense. 
“and you help yourself to my beer, don’t you? i deserve a few eggs,” kaveh huffs. 
“well, make sure you pay this month’s rent on time. we’re going to buy some more furniture for our room.”
this time, kaveh turns to you in disbelief—you find it amusing how he seems to still find it improbable that anyone would like to spend longer than five minutes with al-haitham, let alone share a bedroom.
“are you really sure you want to do this? what could you possibly see in him? he’s the most aggravating individual i’ve ever had the pleasure of talking to,” kaveh eyes you in concern as you walk over and press a soft kiss to al-haitham’s forehead, earning himself an unimpressed glare from the scribe and making you giggle. 
“he is a bit aggravating,” you agree with a teasing glint, pinching al-haitham’s cheek as he scoffs, “but i think he’s just nice to me because i sleep with him.”
“that’s gross,” kaveh wrinkles his nose, “you had better not be doing anything i can hear from my room—that would be traumatic. although, it must be more traumatic for you,” he says with sympathy.
“if you don’t like it, you can simply move out,” al-haitham, shrugs, wrapping an arm around your waist. as much as you love your boyfriend—and you love him quite a bit, you can’t help but mourn the fact that constant bickering will now become a staple in your daily routine. 
“are you threatening me?” kaveh gasps before he turns to you with his finger pointing to al-haitham, “do you see? this is your future, i hope you know that. he’s much more unpleasant to live with, i’m warning you in advance—don’t say i didn’t try.”
“well, i’m sure he’ll be on his best behavior for me,” you grin, eyeing al-haitham playfully as your fingers weave into his hair, “otherwise, i’ll have to come sleep in your room when i’m mad at him.”
you think, for the first time ever, kaveh and al-haitham seem to agree on something as they both share a look of dread at your words.
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pov: you write 3.8k words of build up for a plot just so you can write the last scene 😭
no bc literally i meant to write this as a drabble just so i could write that last scene bc i thought of it and giggled but then the plot just kept going and now we’re at 4.1k words like w h a t
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withleeknow · 11 months ago
Text
six minutes.
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pairing: seungmin x reader genre/warnings: friends to ??, fluff; a couple of swear words here and there bc who am i if i don't swear, mentions of hurling but it doesn't actually happen, not really unedited lol word count: 0.8k note: HELLO FELLOW WIFEU (you know who you are), number 13 was "things you said at the kitchen table" lol. anywhomst people, my first seungmin piece!!
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
navigation › masterlist › ko-fi
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when blinding sunlight playfully slips through the curtains, you wake up with an ache inside your head, then instant confusion as you take in your surroundings.
this isn't your bedroom.
the clothes you're wearing aren't the ones you put on before you went out last night.
there's someone on the other side of the bedroom door, and the rummaging of cabinets, the clanging of pots and pans.
you sit up fully, clutching the duvet cover close to your chest, evidently disoriented. there's not much for you to go on - the room is clean, tidy, barely any decorations except for what seems to be a few baseball mementos displayed neatly on the credenza sitting opposite from the bed, surrounded by empty cream-colored walls.
a dumb, possibly-still-drunken thought pops up.
oh my god, i've been kidnapped.
you blink, feeling fatigue in every limb, slightly alarmed but not scared even though you probably should be. (you've been told that your survival instincts aren't very sharp.) the brain fog must also be a contributing factor, but even in spite of the thought of being kidnapped, you don't register any sense of imminent danger. just a growing perplexity because not everything has clicked into place yet.
your eyes notice a framed photo on the bedside table when the light catches on the glass. upon closer examination, you gasp sharply, because why the fuck is there a photo of your dog in this strange bedroom?!
oh wait.
okay.
thank fuck. you've been here before.
it's just kim seungmin's bedroom that you're in, and it's just kim seungmin's favorite baseball t-shirt that you're wearing.
after a moment of sitting by yourself in total dumbfounded silence, you venture out of the bedroom on unsteady legs - not even the good kind of wobbly legs that you wished you'd experienced as a result of a freaky night tangled up in the sheets - to find your friend in the kitchen with his back turned to you, hunched over something you can't see on the counter next to the sink.
you take a seat at the kitchen island, making sure to scrape the chair across the floor loudly to alert him of your presence. he turns around at the sound, a bit startled - cute - then throws a smile your way when he realizes who the intruder is.
"morning, sunshine," he chuckles upon seeing the disgruntled look on your face, courtesy of your stubborn headache. "sleep well?"
"i don't even remember what happened," you grumble, bypassing his question entirely. "why am i here? why didn't you take me home?"
"you wouldn't let me. you made me take you back to my place, then you practically demanded to sleep in my bed too," he tells you, filling a glass with water and handing it to you before turning back again to continue working on whatever task he was occupied with before you interrupted him. "thank god you didn't hurl."
you scoff, but you take a grateful sip of the water anyway. "you would've made me sleep on the couch?"
"yes." zero hesitation. motherfucker.
"and they say chivalry is dead."
"you'd be dead too if you had puked on my bed."
"i almost did. i woke up thinking i was kidnapped."
seungmin laughs, extending a hand to his right to grab a container of salt. you recognize it because it's part of the spice container set that you got him as a housewarming gift when he first moved into this apartment.
"would a kidnapper let you wear his favorite shirt and drool on his pillows?" he asks.
"i was practically blacked out. you could've thrown me a potato sack and i wouldn't have noticed."
"yeah, well, you wanted the shirt, so..."
for some reason, it makes you warm all over. though you still feel icky as hell from the night out, the soft material of his tee covering your body becomes more welcoming, makes you want to wrap yourself in the fabric even more.
you clear your throat, trying to dissolve the lump that forms in your throat upon hearing his words. the mischievous sun makes an appearance again, tiptoeing from the bedroom window to the kitchen window, sneaking through the cracks to saturate seungmin in a generous dose of golden light.
he turns around to face you once again, before you can think of anything else to say. he places a plate in front of you, and the sight leaves you a little taken aback. soft boiled eggs, already peeled and halved, sprinkled with your favorite sea salt.
"i don't think a kidnapper would get up early and google how to soft boil eggs either," he says with a casual shrug, but there's a hint of a smile there, tugging at his the corner of his lips.
"you had to google how to boil eggs?"
"soft boil eggs," he tuts, mildly offended that you'd think he's that incompetent in the kitchen. "because you like them."
he lets the smile take over completely now, the very second you feel heat rush to your cheeks.
"google said it takes six minutes, by the way."
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all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 21.12.2023]
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