#i’ve received so much bad news this month :( | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mi55delulu · 11 days ago

Text

movie goers

pairing: jungkook x fem reader

synopsis: starting off on the wrong foot with your new neighbor was not on the top of your bucket list, yet you’ve made an enemy of jeon jungkook in less than 24 hours. unlucky for you, he’s not backing down either.

genre: enemies to friends to lovers (e2f2l)

wc: ~16.4k

cw: not so cute meet, slice of life, slight angst, fluff, mature language, mean jk and mean oc — they get better though, cheating (not main characters), fwb (not main characters), mutual pining, oc is lowkey a hopeless romantic, 18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI 🛑, smut, oral (f&m receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, love love love. if i got any rules/regulations wrong, i didnt. leave me alone, it’s fanfic 😇✨also written in lowercase bc that’s just how my phone setting is and i’m too lazy to go back to capitalize … ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

a/n: yuh … inspired by real life events. anyways, this is the first time i’ve posted a fic on this page. i’ve been an avid reader (still am) but i’ve been wanting to put something out too. so here’s my gift to close out 2024. also, i miss jk. I MISS BANGTAN. ;-; enjoy and lmk your thoughts!

—

if you had to describe your ideal neighbor in three words, it’d be: mindful, quiet, and kind. cause that’s what your neighbor, mrs. lee, was to you in the last three years you’ve lived in this apartment complex. she kept to herself, walked her small crusty (but cute) senior white dog, and brought you leftover cookies when she baked too much for her grandkids. you always had a feeling she made just the right amount with you in mind, but of course she’d never tell you.

so when she broke the news that she was going to move into her son’s home because they’ve been worried about her living alone, you were happy for her — happy that she’s going to get taken care of, but sad that you’ll be losing a great neighbor.

you tell her whoever moves in after her probably won’t be as good of a baker. she simply laughs and tells you to be nice.

three months pass and you hear footsteps outside your door one afternoon. when you try spying through your peephole to get a glimpse of the commotion, you see boxes stacked on the side of apt# 305.

finally, someone was moving in.

some of the boxes were spilling onto your welcome mat, but that didn’t really bother you. you were more curious about your new neighbor … er, perhaps neighbors. so any clue on whether it was going to be an individual or a family moving in would give you an idea of who you’ll be living next to.

unfortunately for you, all the boxes were neatly sealed off.

“dang it.” you mutter to yourself while squinting at the labels on the boxes. clothes, kitchen, shoes … workout? well, okay no indication of toys so you can safely assume there aren’t any kids … yet.

you look at your clock, it’s about time you head out to get your mail anyways. maybe you’ll bump into your new neighbor(s).

except, it wasn’t as easy to spot who exactly was going to be moving in with all the different movers. you sigh and sift through your mail as you walk up the stairs to your apartment. most of the boxes that were outside had already been moved inside the apartment by the time you returned from the mailroom.

as curious as you were of who your new neighbor could be, you had better things to do … like binge watch your kdramas before your shift starts. maybe if you’re feeling extra nice … you’ll say hi later. no one wants to start off on a bad foot with their neighbor. you fumble around your pockets for your keys and eventually hear your locks click open when you’ve successfully unlocked your door.

“hey, neighbor.”

you turn. now, in all your 28 glorious years of living, you can easily count the times you’ve been starstruck on one hand. seeing the northern lights by accident on your way home in 2024, meeting your favorite youtuber at a late night diner when you were 15 years old, and being noticed by one of the highest ranked players in maplestory’s world chat.

the person in front of you? a sight to behold. tall, killer smile, numerous piercings, and a forearm adorned in tattoos. yeah. you don’t think starstruck would fit for this occurrence, but what you do know is that they’ve gotten you tongue tied.

“welcome!” you blurt out and give a tight-lipped smile before barreling through your entryway. you don’t give yourself another second to study his expression once the door shuts behind you. were you lame to run away from your new neighbor? sure. will you regret this? well, the cringe is already seeping in. you’re probably branded as the weird girl now … whatever.

what’s done is done.

you don’t know if 305 is mindful, quiet, or kind.

but fuck, he’s hot.

—

305 was not quiet.

you know it’s a housewarming party with a couple of his friends. he didn’t have to tell you … you heard them loud and clear through the walls several times as they clinked their shot glasses for the 11th time that evening.

you’re texting your frustrations to dohwan, your boyfriend (?) er … someone you’ve been talking to (and fucking) these last 2 years. he hasn’t quite put a label on the relationship just yet and claimed that he is only seeing you. labels didn’t really matter to you but as time grew, you’ve come to like him a lot and wished for something more. he’s career-driven, great in bed, and knows how to whip up a good breakfast the morning after he stays for the night. he was supposed to come over tonight, but told you he got caught up with work. it’s times like these where you feel a level of uncertainty with dohwan. you spiral and don’t feel as secure as you want to be.

you shouldn’t feel hurt or disappointed … but you do, because hell, alright … maybe you didn’t just like him.

you love him.

you’re not embarrassed that you told him 9 months into seeing each other. has he said it back? no, but that’s okay! everyone has a different timeline when it comes to feelings. you could only hope he meets yours soon enough. why else would he stay for this long?

back to the situation at hand.

you’re not an irritable person, but the least 305 could’ve done was given you a heads up that he was going to have a celebration. you would’ve asked to stay over at dohwan’s in that case.

another round of laughter erupts through your walls and you grit your teeth in annoyance.

“fuckin’ hell,” you throw the covers off your body and march out of your apartment. you find yourself glaring at 305’s door — a juxtaposition from how you usually looked when mrs. lee used to reside here.

god, you missed her.

you knock on the door a few times, taking note how the chattering from the inside decreases and some footsteps grow close to the door.

again, you almost want to want to run back to your apartment when you’re face to face with 305’s handsome confused face.

realizing it’s you, 305 smiles, “oh, hey—“

“it’s nearly 12 a.m. do you mind?” you cut him off.

his smile drops and he leans one shoulder on his doorway.

“sorry,” he says, “we’ll wrap up soon.”

you’d usually drop something this trivial by now, but you’re in a foul mood. unfortunately for 305, this is will be his official first impression of you.

“how much longer is ‘soon?’ it’s been like this for 4 hours,” you really don’t mean for it to come out that way, but the damage is done.

little did you know, 305 wasn’t going to backdown either. he may be new to this complex, but he’s not privy to obnoxious neighbors. the only difference is that he thought you were going to be quiet and shy, much like the first meeting.

“don’t know.” he shrugs.

“i really don’t want to involve property management.” you cross your arms. it’s a half threat — you’ve never called because you never needed to … but you’ll flip through your 50 page rental agreement if you have to.

he mirrors your stance and looks out to your apartment’s door.

“well, sorry to burst your bubble, 307.” he says and you see red, “but management is aware of my get together. it’s not my fault they didn’t inform the other residents.”

“asshole.” you mutter under your breath.

he smiles again, a little less friendly and more condescending this time, “we’ll finish soon, 307. good night.” he shuts his door on you before you can formulate a sentence and you’re left outside in the dark.

—

“yo, jungkook … were we being too loud?” hoseok asks while popping a handful of m&m’s into his mouth.

“yeah, cause your laugh can be heard from all throughout korea,” jimin mocks, earning him a shove from hoseok.

“nah, don’t worry about it. just my neighbor saying hi.” jungkook plops down on the sofa with the rest of his friends.

“oh? should’ve invited them in. we have enough pizza to feed a village.” taehyung nudges his side.

jungkook laughs and shakes his head, “just scale down on the volume and we’ll be golden.”

jungkook loves good company, having lived with his friends for most of his college years, he was a bit reluctant to move out. it’s a little bittersweet, but all his friends are happy for him and his new journey in adulthood. he won’t have to deal with messy roommates and random guests … vice versa. as fun as it was to live in a house full of your best friends, at the end of the day, men will be men. gross, loud, and obnoxious.

not jungkook though, so he thinks.

“ha! called it,” jimin snorts, “you were being too loud, hyung.” this earns jimin a punch to the arm and hoseok’s booming laugh when jimin dramatically falls off the chair.

jungkook knew it was useless to request this of his friends, so he took it upon himself to give the property manager a heads up. lucky for him, the lady seemed more than happy to accommodate. she even left her business card with him after he signed the lease … something about calling her if there’s ever an issue with the apartment — any time of the day.

weird.

what’s weirder was his neighbor. from running away during the first meeting to demanding he end his housewarming on the spot. okay, to be fair, you didn’t, but you might as well have. it didn’t help that jungkook was hotheaded and gets a little irrational when something involved his friends.

so what if he thought you were pretty in your black pajama set? you called his friends loud, when in honesty, they could’ve been much worse. seriously. he knows jimin’s taunting held some truth. hoseok has been responsible for some noise complaints in the past. so this was considered manageable. plus, it’s not like he’ll be inviting them over every weekend.

but if it meant pissing you off, he might consider it.

alright, he wasn’t that cruel and he definitely doesn’t want to make living next to you unbearable. he’ll apologize first thing in the morning tomorrow, but for now, he just wants to enjoy his time with his best friends.

—

jungkook was going to murder you.

not literally, but he could if it wasn’t for the major hangover holding him back. he blinks twice, looks at the clock on his nightstand, reads 7:01am, and lets out a big sigh after another round of drilling vibrates against his wall.

fuckin’ hell.

it feels comical now that he’s in front of your apartment, face still swollen from sleep, but so visibly upset at being woken up at the ass crack of dawn.

“are you serious?” he asks, voice still laced with heavy sleep.

you, on the other hand, look put together and almost too happy this early in the day. jungkook can only rule you out as a psychopath — a pretty psychopath. your hair all in place, lashes kissing your cheeks when you smile at him, and not a single wrinkle on your clothing in sight.

“what’s up,” you peer outside your door just as he did last night, “305?”

he wants to let out a groan, but that’d give you too much power.

“drilling at 7 in the morning? that’s gotta be a violation.” his voice still laced with sleep, though, he’s sure to sound assertive.

“nope! here,” you smile and pull out your phone, the level of brightness makes jungkook squint, “county regulations allow work as early as 6:30am.”

“yeah, if there’s justification. there’s no reason for you to be drilling this early.” jungkook argues back.

you pout, evidently not sad at that revelation, “but my mental health. i was kept up all night by my neighbor and his friends … i need some wall decor to cheer me up. surely you could sympathize, right?”

you don’t allow him to formulate another thought as you’re shutting the door, “i’ll be done soon, have a good day!”

jungkook almost wants to laugh at how irritated he is, but all he can do now is try to get some shut eye before his shift starts. that is, if he can even go back to sleep.

should’ve asked his friends for some earplugs as a housewarming gift.

—

the drilling eventually came to a stop. only because you could not be bothered to wake up earlier than you had to and you think you made your point pretty clear to your neighbor — don’t fuck with me.

honestly, you’re not sure what came over you. you never liked causing issues for people and you’re also well liked by your work peers and friends, so this was out of character of you. it also didn’t help that your friends spurred you on and praised you for one upping him. as the rage dissipated from your system, you’ve come to the conclusion of why you acted out.

your new neighbor was a conventionally attractive man. he probably knows this too judging from the way he spoke to you — like you’d back down just because he said so. he probably was able to schmooze the lease manager into giving him a better rent deal and get pardoned for all the noise he made during his housewarming party. sucks for him; you’re not a fan of pretty privilege.

you had to set him straight, so drilling into a random piece of wood every morning right near his bedroom wall was the perfect revenge. you expected some backlash from him; surprisingly, he didn’t say a word to you after his first confrontation. so, you stopped the antics after the third day.

weeks later, you learned his name is jeon jungkook. not through a formal introduction … only because his mail got mixed in with yours and you tossed it onto his welcome mat. he eventually came to realize your name through the same way too.

though, he’ll always be 305 to you and you’ll always be 307 to him.

that’s fine.

you’ll scowl every time you see him and he’ll stick a middle finger up to you as well.

the feeling was mutual.

“so, are you still battling it out with your new neighbor?” dohwan asks one evening. his head was actually between your legs at the moment. you like having random conversations during sex, but talking about your annoying neighbor wasn’t on the top of your list.

“mm, yeah,” you moan lowly when he flicks his tongue on your clit. “well n-no, not anymore.” you correct yourself, “oh fuck, keep going.”

“good, i’m tired of hearing about him,” he chuckles against you and continues his ministrations between your folds. if you were caught off guard by his comment, you weren’t anymore. the pleasure coursing through your body is enough to make your head spin.

he moves away from your body once you’ve come by his mouth. without warning, he slips inside you and you hiss from the overstimulation, still sensitive from your previous orgasm.

“gonna fuck you so well.”he’s thrusting relentlessly, “it’s what you need, huh princess?”

you nod, too overcome by the power of his thrusts hitting all the right spots. dohwan is a little more vocal tonight — it makes you feel special but you’re also a little self conscious about your nextdoor neighbor hearing things. you’ve always kept it down even when mrs. lee lived next door, jungkook would be no exception.

people fuck, it doesn’t mean you can’t be courteous. you sure as hell don’t want to hear your neighbor fucking given that you’ve seen him bring back several different girls to the apartment these couple of weeks.

one thing you’ll commend jungkook for is not being a loud fucker in the bed.

“baby,” you whine as he pauses a little to listen to what you have to say, “we should keep it down.”

he tilts his head, reaches in between your bodies and circles slowly on your clit with his thumb while he resumes rocking into you. you keen and almost let out a moan.

“why? let the asshole hear.” he grunts when he picks up the pace again. dohwan kisses down your neck and leaves a red hickey on your collarbone. you let out a pretty sigh and wrap your legs around his waist.

“y-you,” he moans particularly louder and it throws you off slightly, “saw the way he looked at me today, right?”

you didn’t, but you definitely saw the way dohwan glared at jungkook and tightened his hold on your waist before entering your apartment. meanwhile jungkook had just come back from his evening run — at least that’s what you assumed since he was wiping away his sweaty hair from his flushed face coming up the stairs.

“baby, are you really going to talk to me about another man while we’re fucking?” you laugh and cup his face in your hands. he huffs in frustration but his eyes soften, it’s opposite to the brutal pace he’s set on your pussy.

“sorry,” he continues fucking into you and the room is filled with wet noises and his panting once again. even though he apologized, he does nothing to lower his volume.

knock-knock. the sound definitely did not come from the frontdoor, it was far too close to hear.

another series of knocks come and you realize it’s your bedroom wall. dohwan pays no attention to those sounds and is far into chasing his own high, but you move your hands over his mouth to muffle his grunts.

jeon jungkook is knocking on your wall.

he knows you’re having sex and you’ve become that obnoxious neighbor. if that wasn’t enough of an instant mood killer, you hear him blasting one of akon’s featured hits “i just had sex” to mock you and dohwan.

yeah, sexy time is over. you push dohwan off you and head into the bathroom to nurse your embarrassment.

shortly that night, dohwan leaves and it’s the first time you’ve gotten into an argument with him where you think he’s in the wrong.

—

people find it daunting to go to the movies alone. you’d agree until you were forced to go alone after no one wanted to go watch twilight with you in high school. it was awkward at first, but once the light dimmed and the movie started, no one cared about their surroundings.

that’s why you liked going alone. no one will pay attention to how alone you were. everyone in there will be focused on the big screen in front — you included. there was always something liberating about doing things alone too. ‘like yeah, stick it … i don’t need anyone.’ kind of energy.

the only thing you wished was to have someone to discourse with after the movie ended. it’s not a dealbreaker though. you could have easily asked dohwan to come with you, but you’ve been ignoring him since last week after the loud sex fiasco.

regardless, you’re watching moana 2 today. you’re sure it’s going to be a full house given that it’s the opening week. you can only pray that you won’t be surrounded by snotty (literally) kids. nonetheless, you’re excited and the theater was getting filled up as more movie goers come in during the preview. your row was nearly full, saved for the single empty seats on your left and right side.

score, no seat partners or snotty kids. you’ve won this time around.

you’re texting your friends and telling them your luck—

“ahem.”

you look up and you see two people standing in front of you. you’re sure it’s for the seats on your left and right side cause you double checked your ticket before sitting down and everyone else in your row has been seated for quite some time.

“can you move?” one person asks. weirdly enough, the voice is familiar.

even though the lights are low in the theater, you can see that it’s a man and a woman. and when you squint a little more at their figure, that’s when something catches your eyes. a tiger lily tattoo, the same one that your neighbor has.

no fucking way.

“hello?? can you move?” he asks again a little more aggressively. there’s no way he can’t recognize it’s you being that the movie screen is bright enough to shine a light on you. doesn’t matter. you weren’t going to move before and you definitely aren’t going to move now. hell, you’ve been asked plenty of times to move by both families and couples in the past — the difference was that they asked nicely. some were generous enough to offer you snacks when you did move for them.

jungkook? nah. no thank you. you’ll stay right where you are.

“nope.” you hold out your ticket to show your seat number and refocus back on the previews playing.

the girl behind him grabs his arm and gently asks him what seat numbers he got.

“k11 and 13.” he mumbles.

yeah, cause you had bought k12.

“oh, um, it’s okay! we wouldn’t even be talking during the movies anyways,” she reassures with a kind smile. “let’s sit so that we’re not blocking anyone?”

jungkook gives her a tight lipped smile and plops down on k11 while the girl takes k13.

“you’re fucking annoying for that.” he says only loud enough for you to hear. he’s angrily eating his popcorn and it makes you want to laugh mockingly. he’s dressed in all black with a silver chain dangling loosely around his neck. his hair is neatly styled and he smells nice. perfect for a first date … minus you being the factor to ruin it.

“i’m not the one that booked shit last minute. do better.” you shrug.

the previews are still playing and you look over at the girl. she’s so pretty and probably too sweet for jungkook’s good based on how she handled the seating situation.

you feel a little guilty, but that feeling leaves you the moment jungkook hands over the popcorn to the girl, spilling a couple on your lap. you glare, he smirks, and the girl unknowingly takes the bucket from him.

well, two can play that game.

“your nails are so cute, where’d you get them done?” you ask.

she beams and shows you her set, “a little shop called banger nails down myeong-dong! they’re great.”

“oh, your nails are so pretty though. where do you get it done?”

truth be told, you haven’t had your nails filled in over 3 weeks … you know they look rough, but you assume she’s just trying to maintain a conversation being that her actual date was a seat away.

you tell her your shop and she tells you she’ll definitely try out that location when she has the chance. she offers you some popcorn and you unashamedly take some, making sure jungkook sees.

he clenches his jaw and rolls his eyes, but makes no move to turn to your direction.

“oh, how rude of me. what’s your name?” you reach out to shake her hands.

“nayeon,” she answers and takes your hand in hers, “you?”

you tell her your name and she nods with a sweet smile. yeah, she’s definitely too good for jungkook.

the movie starts and you’re whispering commentaries and giggling with nayeon. you both held hands during the intense scenes and teared up at the ending. it felt really nice to connect with someone like this right off the bat. she was kind and funny throughout the entirety of the movie too.

you can’t say the same for jungkook. he had his arms crossed with a deep frown stamped on his face for two whole hours.

when the movie credit rolls, jungkook stands up and holds out his hand to help nayeon up. huh, chivalry isn’t dead you suppose. nayeon stands up and waves at you.

“it was so nice meeting you! we should definitely hang out. here, let’s follow each other on instagram!” she fumbles through her purse for her phone and you notice how jungkook closes his eyes in frustration behind her.

you and nayeon exchange contacts and as you’re reclining your seat upright, you hear jungkook ask her, “would you wanna get some froyo? my treat for messing up on the tickets.”

“aw, it all worked out though! i met a new friend,” she gestures over to you. jungkook doesn’t really acknowledge nor claim he has already met you.

why would he?

“i’m glad,” he replies, “still though, i feel bad that we didn’t really hang out. still up for that sweet treat?”

nayeon nods and looks back at you, “would you like to join us?”

unbeknownst to nayeon, jungkook looks at you in desperation this time and shakes his head pleadingly. you think you’ve tortured him enough this evening and you don’t want to subject yourself to hanging out with jungkook. seeing the couple link hands in front of you, you’re sorta missing dohwan a little now … so you’ll reach out to him and see what he’s doing.

“no, it’s okay. you both should enjoy that sweet treat together. i’ll text you on instagram!” you wave and jungkook lets out a breath of relief.

“let’s go?” now, what shocks you is his soft smile towards nayeon. it’s almost a 180 to the attitude you’ve experienced with him. then again, maybe it takes a special kind of person to bring that side out of you. nayeon can definitely do that.

she waves at you again and this time jungkook also waves at you (begrudgingly) too. it’s not a goodbye, but a ‘see you later … unfortunately.’ type of wave.

—

you come back from dohwan’s place a little after midnight.

nothing special happened, just hung out like normally. he didn’t bring up the argument and you didn’t feel like talking about jungkook either. this was a regular occurrence in your relationship with him. fights were always difficult, but the mend was easy … cause you guys tend to just sweep the issue under the rug.

clean slate.

“jesus christ!” you jump at the sight of a tall dark figure when you reach the top of your floor. your hand flies to your chest to hold down your hammering heart.

“relax, 307. just me.” jungkook says.

“scared the shit out of me.” you murmur to yourself. you proceed to open your door just as jungkook gets his keys out too.

“fitting for a piece of shit like yourself.”

“excuse me?” you raise your brows in question.

“you heard me,” he steps back out from his door, “loud for no reason, fuck like you’re the only one in the complex, and don’t even have the decency to move a seat over. it’s no wonder the previous resident moved away.”

you really want to argue back, but he read you for filth. you really have been an asshole, still, the comment about mrs. lee hurt. you’re not what jungkook makes you to be, but you’ve given him every reason to perceive you in this manner.

“look, i’ll apologize—“

“nah, save it. i’m tired of being nice too. have the night you deserve.” with that, he goes into his apartment and you’re left contemplating how you let things get this bad and awkward with your new neighbor.

there’s no point in trying to talk to your neighbor now. it’s late. you’ll process everything first and try talking to him tomorrow.

—

the talk never happened.

because for the next 27 days, you’ve been woken up by a blender at 5 a.m. you let that slide for the first 5 days thinking it was jungkook’s way of venting out his frustrations, but by the end of the week, you were back on hating your neighbor.

today marks day 28. you’ve had a long day at work and dohwan has been dodgy with you this week. you call him during lunch to ask him why he’s been so distant and he immediately goes off on you saying that he feels suffocated and that he likes his space. it hurts. because you thought that when you really like someone, all you want to do is fill your day with them.

it’s the evening after your shift and you barely make it up the top of the stairs before you sit down and cry into your hands. it’s so fucking embarrassing crying over a man, especially for one that you really like. majority of the time, he really does make you feel like you’re on top of the world, but then take you down to the pits of hell.

highest of highs, lowest of lows.

it fucking hurts, but you also don’t want to be more alone than how you are.

you hear footsteps come closer and you immediately wipe away your tears and look to the other side of the railing. the person coming up doesn’t stop and walks up past you.

you know them. you know it’s him. you can tell by his cologne and the black converse he fancies.

when you think he’s far enough and in his apartment, you let yourself cry some more.

little did you know, jungkook stands at the top of the stairs, contemplating on whether he should talk to you. he thinks you’re crying because of the blender. or maybe you’re crying because you have to go home to a shitty neighbor. feels bad and guilty. hates to see women cry or anyone cry for that matter …

you hear footsteps from behind and sniffle into your hands.

“uh, 307?”

“what?” your tone is biting but that’s understandable. you’ve been under a lot of stress.

he sighs, sits down right next to you on one of the steps. his legs are long so his knees fan out a little to brush yours. you scoot away and look at him with your bloodshot eyes.

ah, shit. he feels even worse.

“i know i’ve been a dick to you from the start.” he begins.

you scoff and look away.

“you didn’t make things easy either, okay?” he rolls his eyes, “but if you’re crying about the blender …”

“oh for fuck’s sake! no, this isn’t about the blender, 305.” you huff.

“ah.” he opens his mouth and closes it to think what to say next, “lemme guess … boy trouble?”

“shut the fuck up.”

he does so this time for a few minutes until you start talking.

“look, i’ve been meaning to say this but i’m sorry for being an asshole to you. you’re new here and i gave you a bad impression of me. i don’t want to continue making this a hostile living situation for the both of us.” you meant every word you said and whether jungkook accepts your apology, that’s for him to decide. at least you were the bigger person to apologize and take accountability.

“thanks. i’m sorry for being rude too. clean slate?” he reaches his hand out for you to shake. you look at his tattooed hand and a part of you feels relieved at the prospect of a resolution. you shake his hand in agreement. his hand was warm, a little calloused, but the hold was firm and promising.

“you’ll stop with the blender now?” you muse.

“aw man, i was getting used to the daily fresh green smoothies … but i think the blender is on its last leg. i’ll spare you for now and buy premade smoothies,” he grins and winks jokingly. his smile was friendly, similar to the one he gave to nayeon that one date. speaking of which, you’ll have to text her when you get home … she’ll definitely want to hear this update. you’ve been religiously in contact with her since the movie date and she’s been your person when it came to complaining about jungkook.

you and jungkook stare out at the sunset and breathe in the autumn air. it’s nice and just what you needed.

“hey, 307?” jungkook breaks the silence after a while and you hum in response, “for what it’s worth, he sounds like a dying gorilla when he fucks.”

it was the first time you laughed all day.

—

things have gone back to normal between you and dohwan surprisingly. he apologized to you the next day and said he acted out because work has been on him lately. you accepted his apology.

on top of that, you and jungkook are … getting along? he’s actually not that bad. he greets you every morning and makes small talk with you about the weather when you are both at the mailroom.

oh, and the blender at 5 a.m. have stopped completely. he does complain that he misses his green smoothie, to which you reply that he can still make it … just not when you’re still in deep sleep.

“no thanks, the prep is annoying.” he brushes it off.

so one morning after grocery shopping, you pick up a cup of green smoothie from your favorite shop and drop it off at his door before he’s back from his usual run.

‘drink up, 305. - your lovely, sweet, favorite neighbor 307 ♡’

to which, he dropped off a matcha pastry to you the next day after you mentioned how you’ve been craving it lately.

‘peace offering to the demon. ps. you’re my only neighbor LOL - 305’

needless to say, this started a ritual between you and him dropping off snacks and drinks to each other.

so yeah, things have been good.

tonight, dohwan is taking you out on a movie date to watch wicked. it’s not your first choice, but you love a classic so you’re open to see this modern-day remake. plus, he’s been extra sweet to you too.

you’re standing near the ticketing area waiting for dohwan to get snacks when you suddenly hear, “307?”

you turn your head and it’s jungkook with a girl you’ve never met before. he waves and asks what you’re watching.

you point at a nearby wicked movie poster and he nods.

“we’re seeing the same movie too. sorry, forgot to introduce you both — this is jinah,” he gestures at the girl next to him and she nods at you in acknowledgment, “and this is my neighbor.”

“ohhh the one that drilled for a week?” she marvels at you and you flush at her question.

“three days,” he corrects, “but felt like an eternity.” jungkook looks back at you like it’s an inside joke and you feel warm under his gaze.

“he’s exaggerating. eternity is waking up to a blender for almost a month.” you fire back casually and it earns a laugh from everyone.

“well, you’re here with someone this time right?” he teases since he notices your makeup is done extra nice tonight and you have on a shorter beige skirt that cuts right at the top of your thighs. you looked beautiful whether or not this was for an actual date.

anyways, it’s all said in pure jest and he knows you take no offense in it when you laugh. knows he can joke around with you now — you’ve both established a good rapport.

“mhm. you bought tickets right next to each other this time?” you retort and he snorts at your question.

jungkook stares off from a distance and his gaze changes. he takes hold of jinah’s hand in front of you.

“i’ll catch you later, 307. enjoy the movie, ‘kay?”

“oh, okay,” you stare at jungkook in confusion, “it was nice meeting you, jinah. hope you both enjoy the movie.”

they both turn and head to the the concessions first and you’re back waiting alone again, but not for long.

a hand touches your lower back and you know it belonged to dohwan.

“ready?” he hands over your drink and you both head to the screening auditorium.

there’s an unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach, but you push it away once you’ve found your seats.

—

jungkook feels sick.

he’s seated behind you and dohwan. that was fine — wasn’t the problem.

the issue was seeing him be overly affectionate to you once he took notice of jungkook outside the auditorium. he doesn’t want to assume, but that’s the energy he gets from dohwan. it’s too much. though perhaps that’s how he usually was to you — he should be doting to you as someone you’re romantically involved with.

jungkook has a bad feeling about him.

jungkook has been on multiple dates this year, nothing ever leading to more because there wasn’t a spark beyond physical attraction. he doesn’t want to waste anyone’s time or hurt someone in the process if he were to continue something he sees no future with. which brings him to wonder why you still entertain that man when he clearly comes and goes as he pleases.

the sex can’t be that good … based on what jungkook was forced to hear that one evening. plus, he made you cry. that man can’t be good.

well, what does he know about relationships? he’s the “serial dater” while you’ve been with the same person. obviously jungkook is doing something wrong. maybe jungkook was just projecting.

he lets out a sigh when dohwan slips his arm around your shoulders to pull you closer.

“you good?” jinah whispers.

“yeah, sorry. didn’t realize how long the movie was. ass is starting to go numb,” he smiles apologetically.

she nods and refocuses back to the big screen. jinah was nice, but a little too uptight for his liking … she would stare back blankly at him when he tells a joke and it makes him question his own humor. he’s sure he’s a funny guy — you always seemed to laugh at his remarks.

shit.

why was he thinking about his neighbor when he’s on a date with another person?

he shakes away those thoughts and zones in on the movie. just a couple more hours till he can go home and relax. a bitter part of him hopes he doesn’t have to see you and dohwan enter your place together tonight.

—

you and jungkook have this thing where you go on walks and get your mail at the same time on fridays. that’s the day you work from home and he’s off.

you never liked walks but jungkook called you out one day for walking extra stiff up the stairs. you can’t help it … sitting for long hours at a desk job wasn’t ideal for your body, but it got the bills paid. by the end of your shifts, you’re too burnt out to do anything. you’re not like him who goes on routine runs at the ass crack of dawn. not everyone was fortunate to have a … wait, you’re not sure what he really did for work.

“305.” you deadpan, trying to maintain your big steps to match his long strides.

“hm?” he takes notice of your walking form and slows down his pace so that you can catch up. his dimples are on full display when he looks at you and it nearly makes you forget what you were going to ask him.

“what do you do for work?”

“what’s it to you, 307?” his brows raise in question and he chuckles when you scowl.

“just wondering. you seem to have a good work-life balance.” you shrug. he has to be making some form of income to afford the cost of living in this part of the city, so if it’s not an office job like yours, you’re curious what his line of work could be in.

“currently a tattoo apprentice, but i do art commissions on the side.”

“oh?” it makes sense. he had this artistic aura to him … tattoo apprentice also made sense too with his sleeve of tattoos. you wonder how many of those he designed himself.

“that’s very cool,” you mean it. you wish you could draw but your art skills could only rival a preschooler at best.

“yeah?” he scratches his behind his head, a habit you’ve noticed he does when he gets a little shy or flustered. “parents were super against it up until they saw what i made on my first commission.”

“it’s always like that with parents, huh? if you’re not a doctor or lawyer, nothing is ever enough for them,” you shake your head. it’s a small revelation, but jungkook feels the weight of your words. he can relate.

“you like what you do?” he tries to change the topic.

“it’s okay, gets the bills paid but honestly i’m developing a shrimp back from sitting at the desk all day.” you confess.

“good thing we’re going on these walks, miss hunchback.” he quips and nudges your arm with his elbow.

you stick your tongue out at him and his smile widens. jungkook takes out his phone and shows you some of the tattoos he’s assisted with on some clients these past months. you zoom in and stare in awe — the line work and colors were beyond beautiful and clean.

“they’re amazing, jungkook.”

his nose crinkles when he smiles at your compliment and cheeks flush at the usage of his real name.

“whenever you’re free, you can come over to check out my commissions.” he offers.

“yeah? you promise this isn’t some secret invitation to get murdered?” you smile cheekily at him and he playfully rolls his eyes.

“no promises,” he says and grins when you dramatically stop in your tracks.

“come on, 307. your lunch break is almost over and i gotta get my mail.”

—

you and jungkook return from the mailroom with stacks of envelopes and coupon advertising from random companies.

he’s behind you looking through his stack. among his many bad habits, one is not having the patience to open his mail in the comforts of his own home. typically by the time you both get to your respective doors, he already has the majority of his envelopes torn open.

men.

you stick your key into your door and hear jungkook gasp.

“shit!” he lets out a string of curses and you glance over where he’s at in front of his door … absolutely decked out in glitter.

“what the hell is this?” he’s dusting himself off, but that only serves to worsen the damage.

all the lights in your head go off. fuck. you had forgotten about the glitter prank order you made during the time jungkook was being a little shit with his blender. you totally forgot to call the company to cancel it …

you feel bad, but you can’t help but let out a series of giggles.

“oh my … jungkook, i’m so sorry,” you say in between your fits of laughter.

he looks at you in confusion but it doesn’t take long for him to piece things together. he tips his head back and looks at you incredulously.

“you did this? 307 … this is too much. how the fuck am i gonna get rid of all this glitter?” he opens his arms out and it makes you laugh even more to see him in this state.

“‘m sorry, i …” you try to catch your breath, “forgot to cancel the request and you were being such a dickhead that time.”

“i fuckin’ look like edward cullen.” he groans, looking at you with a serious expression and that has you doubling over.

he eventually joins you in your laughter, hands clutching his stomach.

“h-here,” you say in between tears, “i’ll help you.”

you dust off some flecks of glitter on his shoulders and reach up to smear it over his cheeks. this has got to be the highlight of your week.

jungkook pulls away and laughs at your antics.

“you think this is funny, huh?” he opens his arms again and you nod while stifling away your giggles, but your demeanor changes when he smirks deviously.

his arms circle around you and presses your face into his hard chest. jungkook is cackling just as hard as you are. he’s rubbing his body on your frame and you’ve accepted your fate cause you’re no match for his strength. you’re both even now. all glittered up, laughing, and having so much fun with this “misfortune.”

you won’t admit you’re enjoying his embrace. you won’t admit you fancy his cologne and aftershave. you won’t admit how you feel so soft against the hard ridges of his torso.

you definitely won’t admit how starstruck you got when he finally lets up and stares at you cheekily, unknowing of his doings and how pretty the glitter flecks frame his cheekbones and nose bridge.

he really was perfection.

little did you know, jungkook was also completely enamored by the way your eyes sparkle despite the crazy amount of glitter now stuck on your face and body.

did time freeze? no one has said a word but you can hear and feel your hearts pounding against each other in this close proximity.

“what the fuck?” a voice pulls both you and jungkook out from that dream-like state.

you look and it’s dohwan. confusion and anger is etched and evident on his face. he’s holding a bag of takeout, for what you assume was going to be your lunch. he stalks over and grabs your wrist and yanks you away from jungkook.

“hey man, it’s not what it looks like.” jungkook says. jungkook’s expression is neutral with a hint of annoyance in his tone. dohwan pays no attention to him and looks at you instead.

“are you cheating on me?”

“the hell, dohwan?” you stare back in shock at his accusation.

realizing how awkward this situation was, you start pulling dohwan towards your apartment. you quickly turn to jungkook where he was still standing, he looks concerned for you, “sorry, jungkook. uh, i’ll catch you later.”

he nods and moves around you and dohwan to get to his apartment door.

when you and dohwan are finally in the privacy of your home, you turn and he’s setting down the takeout on your coffee table. you can tell he’s still upset because he makes no move to sit down — he leans against your wall with his arms crossed.

“well?”

“well, what? it really wasn’t what it looked like, dohwan.” you roll your eyes, making your way to your sink to wash off the glitter on your skin. glitter was a bitch to get rid of, but you’ll do just about anything to distract you of dohwan’s awful attitude. you have about 10 minutes till you have to get back to work and don’t have the time to be arguing.

“don’t fucking lie. you’re always raving about how nice he is to you now. and i’ve seen the way he looks at you. that’s not some ‘friendly neighbor’ shit,” dohwan raises his voice in frustration.

you toss the kitchen rag onto your counter and turn, “what’s so wrong about me talking about how someone is nice to me?! at least you know about the people in my life, but i don’t know jack-shit about yours. i don’t know what you’re insinuating, but you need to check yourself.”

“don’t try to spin this on me. whatever is going on with you and your neighbor, needs to stop.”

“literally nothing is happening between us??” you run your hand over your face, “i can pick and choose who stays in my life, dohwan. you can’t control that.” you try to level your breathing. you hated feeling like your partner laid claim on you as if you were some sort of property and had ownership.

don’t cry. don’t cry. don’t cry.

his eyes soften after realizing what he implied and he comes closer to you. he rubs your forearms and pulls you in for a hug. you let the tears fall now.

“i’m sorry. i didn’t mean it like that. it’s just … i was insecure.” he confesses.

you sniffle into his chest, “why?”

he chuckles, “my girl hanging around a good looking dude? who wouldn’t be insecure?”

his girl.

“wasn’t aware i was your girlfriend.” you pull away from his warmth and regret seeing the glitter you’ve transferred onto his clothing in the process.

“well … i mean, you’re technically not. who needs labels?” he brushes you off and sits on the couch now. you’re left standing there, another wave of uncertainty washes over you. 5 minutes till you need to start working … do you really want to open the can of worms right now?

fuck it.

“i don’t know. people who love each other?”

he snorts then rolls his eyes when he realizes you’re back in serious mode.

“here we go again. we’ve been through this plenty of times—“

“do you even like me?”

“yes, of course.” he answers quickly.

“do you love me?”

he’s silent.

“then what are we doing, dohwan?” the real question was … what were you doing? it’s hitting year three of this situationship and nothing more has progressed.

“hey, hey … i thought you enjoyed spending time with each other … we agreed that it was just me and you,” he comes close to you again, but you hold a hand out to keep some distance.

“i need to get back to work. can you give me some space?” you mumble, “thanks for the food.”

—

the fallout between you and dohwan was anything but amicable.

you both boiled it all down to two things: you want more. he wants things to remain the same.

you requested for space and a break in the meantime while you figure things out. during that time, you felt yourself distancing from jungkook too. he tried to greet you like normally after dohwan’s confrontation, yet every time you see him, you make a beeline into your apartment.

guess old habits die hard.

you took this time to focus on you. you spoke to a therapist, got in contact with some girlfriends, visited your family, and busied yourself with work. self improvement, if one could call it. your therapist recommended to decentralize men in your life for a while so that you can focus on yourself. which meant no dohwan.

… and no jungkook.

you’ve been keeping nayeon posted on your life and she calls you out for being inconsiderate to jungkook. funny, because she was on your side when he was being rude to you and immediately ghosted him after the movie date (you still haven’t told jungkook you’ve been in contact with nayeon because things have gotten a little crazy). you promised to her you’ll talk to him soon though. he was just unfortunately caught in the crossfire of your messy relationship.

honestly? you missed your neighbor — your friend. but you needed to get your head sorted out and you’d be terrible company either way.

jungkook didn’t deserve that.

the break between you and dohwan meant that you don’t talk to each other till you figured things out.

breaks meant for a reset.

he kept texting you and telling you how much he missed you.

you had to keep reminding him of the boundaries.

he eventually obliged.

thinking you were finally ready to talk weeks later, you went over to his place after work, only to find him in shock, hair disheveled, red scratch marks all over his chest and shoulders.

“oh, um, i—“ you panic, feel your heart drop to your stomach when the realization settles in after you hear another voice call out his name from behind.

dohwan took that break and fell into bed with another woman.

“w-wait, let me explain,” he follows you out his door and nearly topples over you when you turned abruptly to face him.

you feel betrayed — so much for ‘me and you.’ the anger bubbling in your chest has a way of migrating through your body. you tremble, tears threaten to fall from your eyes, and your teeth dig hard on your bottom lip … you can taste metallic.

“we’re on a break,” he says as if you weren’t aware of the terms you originally initiated.

“okay? so that means you go and fuck someone else?” your voice is shaky but you push on, “you cheated.”

“no! i mean, fuck, what did you expect me to do? we stopped talking and it was fucking lonely … i— you can’t put all the blame on me,” he stammers.

so, it was your fault?

“i didn’t make you sleep with someone else. a-all—,” you choke on a sob, “all i asked was for some space and time. you couldn’t even give me that.”

the thing is, dohwan hasn’t given you anything beyond what he was willing to get from you. he liked your company, thought you were a sweet and funny girl, and god were you good in bed. he didn’t feel ready to settle down in a relationship … felt that being with someone officially took the spark out, but he also wasn’t willing to let you go.

so he held out for as long as he could. as a result, you did too in hopes that he could find it in himself to change his feelings for you.

love is patient, love is kind.

you’ve been patient, you’ve been kind. if this is love, why does it break you down?

maybe this love wasn’t for you; but rather, he isn’t for you no matter how long you wait and the number of pennies you’ve thrown into the wishing well.

“goodbye, dohwan.”

—

jungkook hates overly loud sex.

it’s the reason why he takes the extra precaution to put socks on his bed frames to muffle any potential noises. if his partner was a huge moaner, he’d do what any sensible person would … stuff his fingers into their mouth. what? the girl usually doesn’t mind and it minimizes the noises. plus, it was hot.

win-win.

sex didn’t have to be over the top to show that you’re passionate. jungkook knows that very well.

it’s also why he originally lost a lot of respect for you when he overheard you and dohwan having sex that one time. well, mainly dohwan.

fuckin’ gorilla.

jungkook has been worried for you ever since that awkward glitter situation. he wanted to apologize and even talk to dohwan if it’d make things less stressful on your end.

you’ve ghosted him for weeks. no more walks, small talk, snack trades, or trips to the mailroom.

he has a feeling it has something to do with dohwan.

just like how he knows the sobs emitting through his walls tonight has something to do with him.

jungkook hates overly loud sex, but more than that, he hates the sounds of your cries.

—

‘cheer up, 307. you deserve some sweetness in your day. ps. i’m gonna make you run if you keep missing our walks. also? stop avoiding me, it’s annoying - jk’

you smile and sip the banana milk jungkook left outside your door.

he always had a way with cheering you up despite being a headache for some time in your life. your therapist recommended to decentralize men from your life for a while … sure, jungkook fits in that category, but he’s also your friend.

you slowly let him back in.

he’s been good to you. though, you can’t say the same for yourself. you’ve been a shitty neighbor and a shitty friend.

yet jungkook shrugs it off and treats you normally.

you’ve been mending a broken heart and jungkook has been a great company meanwhile.

“you really need to work on your conflict avoidance, 307.” jungkook says one evening. he’s sprawled out on your couch with a bag of chips in his hands. it’s movie night — a tradition he forced upon you because you’ve apparently never watched the movie trolls.

you peel your eyes from the screen and tilt your head, “what do you mean?”

“any time something gets tough, you run away. gotta stop that, say what’s on your mind and work it out.”

“hm.”

“what?” he presses.

“nothing.”

“see? you’re doing it again. just say what you wanna say,” jungkook rolls his eyes.

“fine,” you chew on your bottom lip, “i hate this movie.”

jungkook had picked trolls 2 and it was so much more awful in comparison to the first one you were forced to watch last weekend.

“fuckin knew it. you’ve been spacing out all night,” he laughs, “see, doesn’t it feel good to be honest bout your feelings?” he reaches for your remote to switch to another movie. you watch him. really take him in and almost want to laugh at how horrible your first couple of months was with him and now he’s in your apartment watching awful movies with you to nurse your brokenheart.

you really had read jungkook wrong. he wasn’t just some conventionally attractive man that used his pretty privilege to get his way. he was genuinely a good person.

which makes you think … why the fuck is he hanging around someone like you on a friday night? he could be hanging out with some friends or going on a blind date with a pretty girl. better yet, why isn’t he in a relationship with someone?

was he just like you?

his voice brings you out of your thoughts, “alright, spill it 307. you look like you have something else to say.”

you sigh.

“how are you still single? just … i know you’re always dating different people. it can’t be that bad for you right? i mean, if you’re struggling … i feel kind of hopeless for myself.”

jungkook looks at you, dimples on display as he contemplates on what he wants to say next. the thing about jungkook is that he looks like he belongs in your circle — fits perfectly, actually. has a way of making you feel safe and comfortable about asking hard questions. he may tease you, but he’ll never judge you.

he ruffles your hair.

“just haven’t found the right one. it takes time and i’m in no rush. you shouldn’t either.” you feel yourself soften from his remarks until, “or else you’ll end up with a gorilla again.”

—

jungkook is treading in dangerous territories.

aside from trying to potty train his new doberman puppy, bam, he’s faced with another issue.

he may have developed a small crush on his neighbor. he can’t pinpoint exactly when he started getting that fuzzy warm feeling around you. it was a telltale sign when he’d wake up and sleep to the thought of you.

you can’t really blame all of this on him though. you’ve been a little more open about hanging out with him since your breakup with dohwan. jungkook has gotten used to your presence as a result. some people would see it as using jungkook as a rebound, but he feels anything but that.

you’re a breath of fresh air to hang around after a long day of work. which is funny cause there was a period of time he considered hexing you. now? he longs to see you and fill in gaps of his day with you. when he doesn’t see you, he thinks of you.

that just might be his demise.

even bam has taken a liking to you and often refuses to let you go back home when you are over.

like dog, like owner.

“aw bammie,” you kneel down, “i’ll see you tomorrow.”

bam whines and follows you to the door.

“you can stay if you like, the guys won’t mind.” jungkook reasons. he’s having a small get together with some of his friends and extended the invite to you. you declined, telling him you don’t want to intrude and he should spend some quality time with them.

“just say that you want to be with me 24/7 and go,” you joke. jungkook won’t admit to you he does.

“nah, just need someone to watch bam while i have some bro time.” he teases back.

“hire a dog nanny then,” your hands automatically reaches down to scratch behind bam’s ear. there’s no need to hire one cause you’d willingly take care of bam for free. it’s all fun and jokes, jungkook knows this. he laughs and holds bam back from following you out the door.

“be on your best behavior tonight for your daddy, ‘kay?” you talk to bam like you’re his mom and jungkook’s stomach does flips at the mention of ‘daddy’ leaving your lips, “if it gets too much, you can sleep over at my place.”

bam has a sleeping mat at your place too. you’ve gotten it for him when jungkook comes over to watch movies — insisted that the pup should have a comfortable space in your home.

jungkook feels like he’s sharing custody with you. everything feels more domestic and it’s fucking with jungkook’s head and heart. which is why he asked you to dog sit bam while he goes on a date next weekend with some client’s friend he met at the tattoo parlor. thinks this date would be a good reset from you.

you wave goodbye to him, a playful grin adorning your lips, “have fun tonight, 305. if it gets too much, you can also come to my place too.”

he hates when you tease like this. makes him feel like he holds a space in your life more than he already should. knows you’re joking, but can tell there’s some truth in your statement. you’re attached to him just as much as he is to you.

“also, try not to be too loud tonight.”

“no promises,” he laughs, “hobi-hyung will be over.”

you giggle, you’ve met hoseok in the passing and also teased him too for causing a ruckus at the housewarming party. all his friends like you — it’s no surprise jungkook would eventually too.

so yeah, he’s treading in dangerous territories.

—

you’ve really been focused on yourself and your friendships. on your hardest days where you yearn for intimacy, you force yourself to be okay with the idea and concept of being alone. there’s a lot of bad days, but they get better.

it’s not always about being in isolation though.

it’s about not being dependent on someone to fill a void.

with dohwan, you realized you fell in the pattern of needing to be around him and when he wasn’t there, the world crumbled beneath your feet. over time, you realized he wasn’t good for you.

wrong person, wrong time.

because the right person will always make you feel safe and seen.

jungkook was right. it’ll take time to find that person — there’s no rush.

yet, you have this disquieting feeling when you see him rustling through his home to get ready for his date tonight. what do you do when you feel like the right person might be slipping away under your nose?

right person, wrong time, you suppose.

bam, his not so small puppy, lays his head on your lap and would occasionally lift it when jungkook walks close. if bam is doting with you, he’s completely devoted to jungkook.

doesn’t realize that his dad is gonna leave you both until he puts on his shoes at the door.

“ah-ah, bammie, stay,” you hold him and he whimpers for jungkook.

“well? how do i look?” jungkook does a quick 360 and you wanna poke fun at him, but you can tell he’s on edge for whatever reason. he has no reason to be. he’s charming, handsome, and knows exactly what to say or do to make someone’s heart skip a beat as he’s done so to you numerous times — you’d never admit it.

he’s your neighbor and most importantly, your friend. it’s a sacred relationship and boundary you’re hesitant to break. so you swallow down whatever you’re feeling and smile reassuringly to him, “you look great, jungkook.”

he beams and extends his hands out for a high-five, “thanks, wish me luck.”

your hands make contact with his and it feels electrifying.

“no luck needed, mr. 305 worldwide.” he absolutely hates the new nickname you’ve given him, doesn’t argue back though, simply scoffs and looks at the time on his phone.

“now go before you’re late and bam bolts out the door for you.” you shoo him out his own apartment.

he reaches down to pat bam on his head and give him some tender smooches.

“call me if there’s an emergency or if you’re bored.” he tells you with his hands shoved in his pockets and some of his bangs fall onto his forehead. there’s something so boyish about his mannerisms … you swallow thickly when you feel the knots tighten in your stomach. a part of you wonders if you tell him to bail on the date, would he? you’re not cruel enough to do that to him and his date. they could be soulmates for all you know.

“and what? you’ll come entertain me?” your eyes squint, “go enjoy your date, 305. we’ll be here.”

before you know it, he’s out the door and you’re left wondering what if.

—

jungkook didn’t realize how much of a disaster the date was going until his date seated across from him rolls her eyes.

“i’m sorry … am i boring you with my story?” he was telling her how he had to help you break into your own apartment because you forgot to bring your keys in the middle of the night.

“it just seems like you’re wasting both our times.” she says and places her drink down. her red manicured fingers circle the rim of her cup.

he’s confused. jungkook has been doing his best to keep the date afloat by talking and asking questions. he thought it’s been going well, minus the couple of times he checked his phone to see if he got any emergency texts from you about bam.

“i mean, why are you here when you clearly like someone else?”

“i don’t get—wait, what?”

“your neighbor 007 or whatever.” she says. it’s the wrong number and she knows it, but wants to see if jungkook reacts, “you’ve been talking about her all night.”

has he? he was just making light conversation … you’re a part of his life so slipping your name here and there feels natural.

“look, you seem like a nice guy. you’re obviously good looking too. if you’re not looking for anything serious, we can go back to my apartment right now for some fun. but long term? it feels like you have someone waiting at home for you.”

and the mood goes sour. jungkook is used to this. used to his dates objectifying him as a quick and good fuck — granted, he’s played this to his advantage when he was younger. now? it feels meaningless. he isn’t upset at that.

it’s the utter realization that he does have someone special to him and you’ve been right under his nose all this time. he’s always telling you to be honest with your feelings, yet he can’t even bring himself to uphold that advice for whatever reason.

jungkook apologizes to his date again, pays for the tab, and rushes home.

—

home can be a place, but for jungkook, it’s seeing you on his couch and greeting him with a sleepy smile.

bam jumps off your lap to nudge jungkook’s leg for attention.

“has he been good?” jungkook asks while scratching bam’s head, though he stops momentarily at the sight of you stretching and your shirt lifts a little to reveal the curves of your hips.

“mhm, an angel. how was the date?”

he contemplates on lying, but knows better. needs to practice what he preaches.

“bad.”

“oh? wanna talk about it?”

“uh, i kinda fucked it up,” jungkook toes off his shoes and avoids your eye contact.

“classic, first impressions have never been your strongest suit.” you put on your jacket and jungkook panics at the thought of you leaving early. he exhales a breath he’s been holding when you plop back down on his couch where he soon joins you.

“i’m not always that bad.” he mumbles.

“i know, i’m just teasing you.” you reach over to pinch his cheek.

when he doesn’t reply, it gets you a little worried. you didn’t mean to hurt his feelings.

“sorry—“

“i kept bringing you up during the date.” he cuts you off.

“oof, no girl wants to hear about another girl …” technically, you’re hoping jungkook doesn’t talk about this one … let alone his previous dates or exes.

“i know,” he murmurs, leans his head back, and sighs, “she … called me out on it.”

“good, as she should.”

jungkook hesitates with his next words, but pushes forward, “said it’s cause i liked you.”

you pause. you could hear a pin drop in the room, minus bam’s paws making contact with the hardwood floor.

“oh … um,” you’re not dumb, you understand what he’s implying. you just don’t know how you’re going to run away from this conversation.

“i know you’re already planning your escape, 307,” he chuckles. his laugh sounds a little melancholy and an instant flood of guilt rushes through you.

“what! no! i-i just don’t know what to say,” you nibble on your lips. you’re fucking scared for what’s to come.

“just hear me out, okay?”

you nod, listen to him clear his throat and exhale a shaky breath.

“i’ve really enjoyed spending time with you. maybe it’s cause i’m a creature of habit or whatever … well no, i don’t think it’s that. i like being around you and i’m thankful you’re in my life.” he looks and smiles at you fondly, as if he is preparing himself for the biggest rejection, “i like you … a lot. you don’t have to accept my feelings nor do anything with it. these feelings are mine and i just wanted to be honest with you. at the end of the day, i’d still like to remain friends as long as you’ll allow me.”

you want to fucking cry. he’s always been better at words and expressing himself. you see it in how he treats his friends, his dog, his profession and art … most importantly, you. you also want to be honest with him, but it already seems like he’s accepting the fate of nothing more.

you owe him the truth at least.

“jungkook … i—“ you begin, “i like you a lot too.”

jungkook lets out an exasperating grunt — he thinks you’re pitying him.

“please don’t feel the need to sugarcoat, 307. i just wanted to be—“

you press your lips to his. the kiss was too quick for anyone to process anything. you’ll remember though. you’ll remember his strawberry flavored chapstick, the cold lip piercing barrels, and the way he leans in slightly to chase after your lips when you pull away too soon. jungkook’s eyes widen at the realization that you just kissed him. all too short and he doesn’t think he can stop thinking about you after this anymore even if he tried.

“your feelings are yours,” you hold his hand, “but these are mine too.”

he whispers your name lowly and you shake your head.

“i’m no good with words,” you confess, “i just know that i like you too. but … i’m also a fucking mess, jungkook.”

“huh? no, you’re—“

“yeah, i am. i just got out of something long term … it wouldn’t be good for me to jump into another relationship. i don’t think it’s fair for you to deal with all my baggage when i haven’t sorted myself out.”

he nods, a little dejected but he understands what you mean.

right person, wrong time.

“okay,” he finally says, “nothing will change. friends?”

“friends,” you agree.

it’s a promise out of respect for you. will you regret this? possibly. though, everything feels normal when he walks you to your door later and wishes you a goodnight.

“don’t be fucking weird after tonight. if you avoid me, i’m making you run 10 laps every friday, 307.”

“rude,” you roll your eyes, “i should be saying that to you. don’t be fucking weird or else you’re getting another glitter bomb in the mail.”

“that shit was the worst to get off.”

“funny as hell though.”

“yeah, for you.”

everything feels so natural and safe with jungkook. how he looks at you, laughs at your jokes, eyes twinkle when you do the same for him. you don’t need the night sky when you got galaxies staring back at you.

—

“with all due respect, you’re being stupid.” nayeon says through the speaker.

“how? we both agreed that staying friends would be the best.” you reply a little louder over your sink. your kitchen was overdue for a cleaning and the weekends were the perfect time to catch up on chores.

you’re on the phone with nayeon and it’s a good distraction while you busy yourself with other things at the same time. though, you’re sort of regretting the call now with nayeon berating you for your decision to remain friends with jungkook a month ago.

“people can still date and work on themselves. it’s not a linear thing.”

“yeah, but—“

“you’re just scared. i know you.”

“nayeon …”

“jungkook and dohwan aren’t the same. anyone can get hurt in a relationship, but you shouldn’t deny yourself of something out of fear.”

“yes, but … i don’t think i’d be able to face jungkook if something bad does happen.” you’re serious. running away is your strong suit and you’d move out immediately if shit hits the fan.

“so you’d have no regrets staying like this?”

you don’t reply and that was an answer in itself.

“why are you so hellbent on me and jungkook? i thought you hated him …” it’s sort of funny to be talking to nayeon of all people about jungkook. hell, it’s thanks to jungkook’s mess up on their first tinder date that helped you land your friendship with nayeon.

everything happens for a reason.

“i only hated him cause you did. that’s what friends do, silly. also, if you’re feeling awkward because he and i dated … don’t. there wasn’t anything more. anyways, stop avoiding. you always do this.” she’s right. you’re the queen of avoiding hard conversations.

“i don’t want to lose a friend, nayeon.”

“you won’t. but you’ll lose your chance at experiencing something beautiful, sweetie,” she says, “you owe it to yourself. but hey, i gotta go to my pilates class. i’ll text you later, okay? i love you!”

“okay, love you too. i’m sorry for being difficult. don’t pull a muscle in class!”

“if i do, will you give me a massage?” she laughs, “and no, you’re never difficult. just you being you.”

the call ends and you’re left alone once again with your thoughts. things haven’t really changed between you and jungkook. he’s still his chipper self. you just yearn for more time with him these days. every subtle touch … whether it be his hand on your lower back guiding you upstairs, his fingers brushing yours during the walks, or when he massages your feet upon request sends you into a place where you feel yourself succumbing to your deepest desires.

you want more.

you can tell jungkook does too. he’s unashamed in his affections towards you but he’ll never pressure you or cross that boundary you’ve set.

you realize it hurts to deny yourself of wanting someone who wants you just as equally.

—

you’re at jungkook’s place again one evening. bam is all tuckered out from his walk and jungkook is fixing a bowl of popcorn to snack on while you search through netflix for something to watch.

it’s your pick tonight and you wanted to watch a crime documentary. ghost and thrillers don’t interest you, but crimes? yeah, full body chills because they’re real.

you turn to see jungkook in a big white t-shirt with grey sweats — he looks so comfortable. he’s seasoning the popcorn and catches you staring at him. he shakes his head and smiles back down bashfully at his bowl.

he looks like home … no, he feels like home.

fuck.

you really are torturing yourself.

when jungkook settles onto the couch and the documentary starts, you scoot closer to him. you don’t know if you’re making a fool of yourself, but jungkook pays no mind. his arm circle around you effortlessly and you nestle your cheek into his chest.

so warm — he smells so nice. jungkook sports on a lax expression, yet you can feel and hear the rapid thumps of his heart.

“you sure friends cuddle when they watch shit together?” he mumbles, eyes trained on the television.

“no,” you look up at him, “do you not want to?” you start to move away, but jungkook holds you in place.

he feels your smile through his shirt. yeah, you’re torturing him and he’s enjoying it.

as the documentary plays, jungkook gets immersed in the story. he looks a little silly with his big eyes and mouth slightly ajar as he soaks in all the crime details and backstory. his hand involuntarily moves to massage your scalp and you feel yourself lulled to sleep under his touch.

after a while, he calls your name and gently shakes you awake.

“hey sleepyhead. had a good nap?” he muses.

“mhm, sorry … was so tired from work. did i miss a lot?” you look at the dark television screen and feel guilty.

“just the entire documentary,” he teases, “it’s alright, you wouldn’t be traumatized like me now. i know i’m going to be having nightmares.”

“‘m sorry,” you snuggle closer to him and his breath hitches, “anything i can do to help?”

“hmm …” he holds his thinking pose, “i don’t know, maybe a kiss?”

“just kidding, 307. it’s late, so let’s get you hom—”

“yeah? think a kiss will make you feel better?” you press on.

you knew he was joking, but there’s a surge of confidence coursing in you when you push up on him and he swallows hard. he says your name in warning but he makes no effort to move or push you away. he wants this badly too. been thinking about you and your lips since you last kissed him — never stopped.

“don’t do something you’ll regret.” his hand cradles your cheek.

“i’m not,” your nose brush against his, “i wanna kiss you. please, will you let me?” you ask with pleading eyes and jungkook lets out a shuddering breath and nods.

you look down at his parted lips and back at his hooded eyes. you’re not sure who moved first — it doesn’t matter.

when your lips meet, it’s like heaven and hell collided and made earth — waves crashing onto land, blue horizons, and the smell of pinewood after rain. you don’t think you can let go of this feeling any time soon and when you finally do give into your longings, life feels a little more salvageable … freeing.

jungkook slots his lips between yours, pulling you up to straddle his lap. he moans when your hands tangle in his hair and pulls you in closer if that was even possible.

you lick into his parting mouth when he pants, indulge in the way he sounds as he’s kissing you back. the kiss is hard and passionate — so much more different than the first one you had. there’s a sense of urgency here … like there’s a time constraint or limitation to your affections. you wish you could reassure him; though the best you can do at this moment is to drink him in as much as he allows you to. his hands roam all over your body and you shiver in pleasure when one of his hand travels to the front of your throat possessively. there’s no pressure in his hold, but it’s telling you that you belong here with him.

when you finally do pull away, you plant dainty kisses on the corner of his lips and jaw. he giggles at the tickling feeling and brings your face back to his to give you a much gentler kiss. though you are no longer kissing, your foreheads stay connected in place.

“there, much better, right?” you say breathlessly.

“mhm,” he replies, “should’ve used the trauma card earlier if i knew i’d be getting free kisses.”

your brain is going a mile a second, but you’re sure of this.

“you don’t need to,” you say a little uncertain. jungkook straightens himself in his seated position when he realizes you’re about to say something serious.

“you can kiss me whenever you want … if you want! i know i said we should stay friends, but i think i like you too much to just stay that way. i want to see where things go and i’m fucking scared. i mean, fuck, am i making any sense? please say something,” you’re rambling and jungkook can only smile as you unravel through your confession.

of course he wants more with you.

“just say you want me and go, 307.” he laughs when you pull away cutely. he has no intentions of letting you go and you had no intentions of leaving. it’s too comfortable in his embrace.

“we’ll take things slow, okay?” he kisses your nose in reassurance.

“okay.”

—

fast forward three months, you and jungkook have been dating each other — slow and steady as promised. no official title (yet) but you know he’s exclusively seeing you. you’re enjoying his company and there’s no rush. when there’s something special and secure, it’s all smooth sailing and calm tides. you never have to guess with him.

he feels the same with you.

this marks the 13th weekend date with you and he’s going to do it. jungkook is going to ask you to be his girlfriend. he’s fucking nervous … has a whole date planned: dinner, movies, then back to his place where he’ll officially ask you.

part of him wants to wait for the next weekend because the number 13 was bad luck, but he’s felt nothing but luck with you. luck in the chances of meeting you in this apartment complex, luck in your friendship, and now luck with the prospect of love.

so when your door swings open to reveal you in a short black satin dress, hair done prettily, and your skin dewey and sparkly from your makeup, he knew was going to make 13 lucky no matter what.

“you look beautiful,” jungkook compliments and holds out his hand to walk you down the stairs.

“you don’t look half bad too,” you taunt, taking his warm hand. there’s no malice cause jungkook knows how you feel about him. notices how your eyes rake over his form, has caught you checking him out plenty of times before, felt the way your lips moved on his skin to praise how hot he looked one evening despite him coming back looking like a sweaty hog that’s been run over by a train.

if you’re curious … aside from making out and heavy petting paired with some dry humping sessions here and there, no, they haven’t had sex. probably for the better, it’s already hard enough to separate from each other after every hangout.

slow and steady. you are both fine with that.

“sooo, you gonna tell me where we’re going or is this where you murder me?” you check your lip gloss in the rear view mirror. jungkook’s right hand naturally find its way to your thighs while he drives.

“you’ll find out soon,” he gives you a little squeeze and it sends a little tingle to your core.

—

it’s going terribly.

traffic was absolutely ass for no reason, so they get to their first destination 45 minutes later than anticipated. the restaurant he had reservations for let him know that the kitchen caught on fire the moment he parked in the lot.

okay, fine. to the movies it is.

except, the movie stopped halfway through due to some technical difficulties. he was going to lose his mind, but you were a good sport through it all. jungkook still had one final trick up his sleeve for you.

when you both finally get back to his place with bags of takeout, jungkook lets out a wail of frustration.

“bam, no!”

all the balloons he blew up have been popped. you look past his shoulders to see a torn up sign with the words: wil u e my fren?

bam prances to you and jungkook with his wagging tail, unaware of jungkook’s inner anguish and turmoil. jungkook runs his hands over his face and freezes in place.

“aw baby,” you try comforting jungkook, “it was an accident. bam didn’t know.”

“i know, i just … fuck, gimme a minute.” jungkook stalks over to his bedroom and closes the door. you place the bags of food on the dining table and crouch down to pet bam.

“you really upset your dad, bammie. he worked really hard on this,” you know bam doesn’t understand a single word you’re saying, but you’re disappointed for jungkook too. jungkook really put in the effort and you’re touched by it all. he really wants you and you want nothing more than to be his.

you feed bam his dinner and set the takeout in the fridge, unsure of when you and jungkook will be ready to eat.

hesitantly, you knock on jungkook’s door. know you don’t need his permission to come in — you’ve slept over plenty of times, but still do it out of courtesy.

“can i come in, kook?”

a moment of silence ensues before you hear a little, “… yeah.”

jungkook was on his bed, feet still on the floor with his arms sprawled out. poor boy.

you climb onto bed next to him and lay your head on his shoulder.

he’s visibly upset — not at you of course. he just wanted to make this special.

“that was fucking cute. no one has ever done that for me before.” you say. the best you got from dohwan were a bouquet of roses sent to your workplace. jungkook’s efforts superseded your expectations.

“which part? no dinner, no movies, or the shit show of a sign?”

“all of it.”

“pff, don’t lie.” he sulks.

you throw your leg over his torso to straddle his waist.

“i’m not! you’re so fucking sweet,” you move down to kiss his cheek when he doesn’t look up at you.

“come on, don’t you want my answer?” you place his hands on your hips, wanting him to touch you somewhere.

he cocks his brow at you, a little smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“fine fine, i’ll be your ‘fren’ if that’s what you want.”

he covers his face in embarrassment, “ugh, that shit was so humiliating. bam isn’t getting any treats for the next three days.”

“hey! don’t punish my baby. it was an honest mistake.” you reassure him, “plus, i gave him an earful.” yeah, and his dinner right after. it’s no wonder bam likes you a lot more these days.

“okay, okay … i’m still sorry about today. nothing went accordingly.” jungkook sighs and rubs soothing circles on your hips with his thumbs.

“you’re not allowed to punish yourself either,” you say a matter of fact, “did you mean it though?” you look at him through your lashes.

“hm?”

“want me as your girlfriend?” when you finally say those words, it sets off a bundle of butterflies in your stomach.

jungkook quickly sits up, holding you securely so you don’t topple over, “of course, i do. just wanted to make it special for you.”

you felt fucking special.

so fucking special in how you said yes, saw how he beamed at your answer, kisses you silly, tongue running down your neck, the little bites on your collarbone — you’re on cloud 9.

he involuntarily drags your hips over his clothed length and you whimper upon contact.

“you hungry, baby? we didn’t have dinner yet,” jungkook asks innocently through his heavy breaths, but you’re too busy trying to unbutton his dress shirt. how could he possibly think about food at a time like this? then again, you have to remember he’s the biggest foodie known to earth. he’s caring of your wellbeing so of course he’d worry if you’re hungry.

he’s also your boyfriend now.

you shake your head. you don’t just want him — you need him.

you slide off of him and are on your knees in between his legs. he looks at you through his heavy lids when you clock your head to the side, waiting for the green light to take off his pants.

“you’ve been so good to me, planning this date … lemme show you how thankful i am.”

jungkook loves being praised and rewarded. he especially loves it even more coming from you. he lets out a moan when you run your hand down his clothed bulge. yes, jungkook has had sex before — honestly, don’t ask him about his body count … he’s not sure either. what he’s sure is that he loses all senses when you touch him — like a virgin touched for the very first time.

his pants are down and kicked off to the side, shirt unbuttoned haphazardly, and head thrown back when you settle between his legs to give his hard length a squeeze.

he’s so fucking big in your hand and your mouth nearly waters at the sight of his precum leaking from the slit of his cock. fuck, you don’t know how he’s going to fit in your mouth, but it doesn’t matter. you’re going to make him come undone one way or another.

“baby, i’m literally going to nut if you keep squeezing me like that.”

you laugh, “how long are you going to last inside me then?”

“fuck, you can’t say shit like that.”

“why not?” you press a small kiss on his hip bone and pump his cock with your hand. his eyes closes and mouth drops open at the change of movement.

“gonna nut even faster,” he chuckles.

jungkook hisses when you lick a long stripe underneath his shaft without warning. one of his hand reaches behind your head for support while the other one grips his bedsheets.

“oh god,” he lets out a small moan when you wrap your lips around the head of his cock and begin to bob your head at a pace that has him seeing stars.

his cock was lathered with your spit and his precum. the sounds you made while you sucked him off were nearly pornographic. his eyes almost rolled to the back of his head when his cock hits the back of your throat.

“shit, oh f-fuck,” his fingers are caught in your hair and your moans vibrate against him when he gently pushes your head down while he fucks up into your mouth.

if you keep going like this, he wasn’t going to last long and he really wants to … can’t bring himself to cum in your mouth just yet. he really wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to nut quick, so he pulls you away when he nearly cums. you breathe heavily through your swollen lips. jungkook runs his thumb on your cheeks where some mascara has smeared as a result of your doing.

you’re still so fucking perfect.

he lifts you from your kneeled position back onto his lap and kisses you slow and tenderly. jungkook whines into your mouth as he tastes himself on your tongue. your dress has ridden up on your waist, the the thin straps are loose and off your shoulders.

“i somehow fucked up the entire night and you still decided to give me the best head? must really like me or something,” jungkook looks at you endearingly and takes notice of how you’re rutting yourself onto his length.

“you know i do. my boyfriend deserves the best.” jungkook’s heart soars at hearing the word boyfriend leave your lips.

yes, he’s yours.

you shake in pleasure as you roll your hips deliciously slow on him. you’re practically soaked through your thin panties.

“did you get this wet just by sucking me off, baby?”

you nod and trail kisses on his cheeks and jaw, “all for you, kook. you always make me this wet.”

he takes so much pride in how he’s able to get you all worked up like this.

jungkook wasn’t expecting to have sex with you tonight, but it’s like you said … it’s special. the rest of your clothing join his in a pile on the ground. he rolls you onto your back and drinks in your naked form. you shy away from his stares and kiss up at him.

your hand reach between you both while he continues to kiss you and you position his still-hard cock in between your folds for that additional friction. the wet clicks mixes in with both your pantings and synchronized moans. every time the head of his cock slides and catches onto your swollen clit, you shudder and arch your back in pleasure.

“want you to fuck me,” you kiss his pouty lips and down his neck, “please?”

jungkook leans back a little, sits on the heels of his feet, and pushes your thighs close to your chest. the angle lets him move and slide your hips up and down his length even more. you gasp and call out his name in wanton.

he drops your legs down and closes the distance between you both again. his bare chest brushes against yours and he lines his cock at your entrance.

“you’re so perfect,” his breath fans over your face, “so lucky to have you.” jungkook swoops his arms under you in a tight embrace. you look at him through your glassy eyes and wrap your arms around his neck.

your heart swells at his words.

there’s little to no resistance when jungkook finally enters you.

it’s a mixture of sweet, nasty, loving, and primal desire how jungkook fucks you into his sheets. he hates loud sex, but he wants to hear all of you. the way you mewl, whimper, cry, and breathe — all of it.

and when you wrap your legs around him and coax him into cumming inside you while your fingers trace the planes of his back, he knows he’s done for.

you giggle, nudge your forehead on his, hold his hand, and kiss all over his face. the afterglow on you both is stunning.

“you’re right, you didn’t last long at all.” you hum. jungkook raises one of his eyebrows and smiles mischievously. it’s a fucking lie since jungkook knows he made you cum at least twice in the span of fucking you, but who would you be if you didn’t try challenging him a little?

he doesn’t have to say anything before slipping down your body and burying his face in between your legs. he licks up your slit tentatively, watches your brows furrow and mouth part, and moans into your heat when your hand travels to his head to push him down as he did to you.

“don’t worry, i’m not going anywhere,” jungkook means it both literally and figuratively. doesn’t understand how anyone could part from you. it’s their loss.

he continues lapping up your mixed essence, nipping at your inner thighs on occasion when your hips jerk away from the pleasure.

“kook, mmph- yes! just like that,” you encourage when he wraps his lips around your clit. he sucks, soothes, and makes out with your messy cunt. he wanted to draw out the night longer, toy and dangle your pleasure in front of you as a punishment for your teasing. knows he’s the reason you’re this wet, can’t bring himself to edge you on a special night like this — maybe another time when he’s feeling more mean. he has all the time in the world with you; there’s no rush.

tonight is all about you, his girlfriend — his.

“so close, baby,” you look down, hips stuttering under his hold as he doesn’t let up with his ministrations on your clit. he trails his fingers at your entrance, coating them with your juices before entering you slowly.

“yeah? won’t you give me another one? come on, i know you can do it,” he says between bated breaths. you shake and arch your back, mouth parts open but no sound comes out as you let the waves of pleasure ride over. the squelching sounds increase as his fingers fuck into you faster.

“i-i’m fucking cumming,” you cry out and jungkook nods in acknowledgement, moaning with you to draw out your orgasm. when you come for the third time that night, he wants to paint the image in his memory and revisit it on a rainy day. no promises that he won’t sport a hard on every time. the sight of you quivering, hands squeezing your chest and rolling your nipples between your fingers to prolong the pleasure, has his head spinning. jungkook trails kisses down your pussy, takes his fingers out and licks them clean before spreading you wider to clean you up with his tongue. he only part ways with your cunt when you whine for him.

he comes back up your body slowly, presses his lips on your tummy and giggles when you squirm from the sensation. however, when he is finally face to face with you again, jungkook has on this determined look.

he can’t seem to get enough of you and your body. addicted, he is.

“you’re not done with me, aren’t you?” you give him that pretty post-orgasmic smile.

never, he thinks.

jungkook was about to reply until the rumbles of your stomach cuts through the silence. it should be embarrassing but you feel close enough to jungkook that you both laugh at how unserious the situation is.

“come on baby, let’s go eat our dinner.” he pulls you up and puts you in one of his oversized t-shirts.

you still believe your ideal neighbor should be mindful, quiet, and kind. jungkook was certainly not quiet, mindful, or kind with how he entered into your life.

though, he wasn’t just someone who’d be your neighbor by the law of attraction and the cosmic pull of the universe.

love is patient, love is kind.

you know you’ve found your home — you just never expected it to be right next door.

fin.

—

a/n: tadaaaaaa. what’d you think? 😜

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook ff #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #bangtan fic #bts fanfic #jeongguk smut #jungkook enemies to lovers #jungkook friends to lovers

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 month ago

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🎉 Thank You for 10k+ Followers!! 🎉

A big thank you goes out to @cozymochi for this beautiful celebratory commissioned artwork for this major milestone ✨ It really captures the scope of all the content that had been put out in the last 4+ years—both in terms of official Twst materials and on this blog! I think it’s very fitting that we hit this milestone in the month of Halloween too (I just held off on posting this til the month after); it’s Twst’s biggest holiday of the year, so it’s twice the cause for celebration!!

A lot has happened over the course of my time in this fandom. I’ve written many things of course, but I’ve also had many other exciting opportunities! I’ve been interviewed for a paper, met many cool people from all over the world, attended Twst meetups + events, collaborated with other talented creators, received kind gifts, contributed to various fandom projects, and finished telling the origins of my Twst OC. This blog has been with me through a lot of major changes and difficult hurdles in my life too—it’s really been an anchor for me, a comforting and safe space for me to be creative or analytical whenever I want to be.

When I first started this blog as a very casual hobby in summer of 2020, I never even considered that it would balloon to this extent. It still doesn’t feel totally real to me 😭 I don’t usually fixate on numbers (they make me anxious), but looking back on it, 10k is a LOT, and 4 years is a long time. To put that in perspective, if we were in Twisted Wonderland for 4 years then all of the students we’ve come to know and love would have graduated by now. That’s crazy to me. We’ve come so far as a group.

I feel that a large part of fandom is the community that comes with it. I would have found it so challenging to stick with Twst had I not had so many great people keeping me engaged with it. I’d now like to take a moment to thank those folks. Keeping in line with the idea of “4 years”, think of these as little messages scrawled in a yearbook. I also have a blog event planned to celebrate! More on that later.

Please note that I’ve used pseudonyms for most of the following people, as I’d like to respect their privacy (I’m very private myself) + not all of them are comfortable with being explicitly named or tagged to a large crowd. You’ll know who you are if you see yourself on here.

Without further ado:

MSS — Thank you for being the first Twst space I felt truly a part of. It’s still the place I consider my fandom “home” beyond this blog.

April — Thank you for making MSS as a place for us to share! We’re tsunderes in solidarity.

Drinking Knight — The banners wouldn’t exist without your help. Thanks for getting the ball rolling on those; I’d like to think that I’m a little more confident in designing new ones myself now, but you were the start of it all. Your endless enthusiasm for the most insane otome boys, drinks, and bullying (positive) others is truly an inspiration.

Q. Opinionated — Can’t count the number of times you ran tech support for me 💀 Thanks so much for being patient and willing to laugh at a stupid situation. I WILL grip you (escape is not an option) 🤲

Dad with his Printer — Why are you so cheeky My unofficial proofreader and fact checker. Still treasure the teeny J word and coffin magnets you sent, and, even more valuable than those, the bad dad jokes/puns advice and wisdom you give. Wishing you luck on your art adventure.

A. Cider — An unexpected friend I met very late into the fandom and happened to run into irl by total coincidence. Funny how life works. Your shitposts are great, and I appreciate having a like-minded person to talk with about the J words and story critiques. I’d also like to thank you for the many little doodles you’ve made; I know you’re very busy and have a wife to tend to at home but I appreciate that you still make time for friends.

Hana — Extroverted pink-haired magical girl representation. Your bubbly love for Disney, Diasomnia, singing, and (yes) angst lights up the entire room. Maybe you’re not too confident with yourself are right now, but I know you’ll find your way.

Swan — For being quick on the uptake and giving me the heads up about various things! We may not talk much one-on-one, but I’m thinking of you and enjoy seeing you pitch into the conversation. You’re still banned for L*ona posting though/j

Ly — My secret French twin/j Thanks for being my cultural + equine advisor and a voice of (salty) reason. Never shut up about your hyperfixations! You’re a real one.

Oys — Enabler + encourager of my Yan!Sil delusions. Sorry for making your blood pressure spike every time we talk about our food takes. But hey, at least we get a good laugh out of it :))

Mac and Bean — For being my inspirations. Bean, you have such atmospheric writing. I hope my writing style can be just as magical as yours. Mac, it was your blog that first got me into starting my own Twst writing. You never stop being so, so funny also I blame you 120% for the L*ona rot.

Peaches and Cream — To my local Twst friends, thanks for keeping me company even through the hard times. Peaches, happy to be your local Twst dealer anytime. Cream, thanks for hooking me up with new books.

Salt and Flora — I don’t know where you vanished to, but the sea brought you back to me on its tides. I’m so happy we could meet again. Salt, you’re so talented at crochet and design work; get your coin 😂 Flora, you’re the sweetest person ever. Literally cottagecore personified, even in your art.

Piano — We don’t always see eye to eye, but thank you for being my serial debater and showing me new perspectives. Your open-minded theories and analyses are such fun. And, of course, it’s always hilarious to think about how we accidentally (?) swapped oshis 🤡 You’re a star.

The Anklebiter — For having the most unhinged jokes and ideas. Seriously, THE most unhinged. I never do any of the crazy things you suggest but I’m always really entertained from just hearing them.

Te, Mi, and Ro — Thanks for organizing local events and giving me an excuse to touch grass. It’s a lot of hard work and you guys manage to pull it off every time! Mi, I was flattered to have you reach out to me to help a little with the Tweel cupsleeve event. Happy to help anytime! Te, I remember you were cosplaying as Kalim when we first met and I kept thinking about how perfectly suited you are for the role. You were very friendly and made such an effort to include everyone in the event even when I was Idia-ing in the corner. To this day, you continue to spontaneously introduce me to new people 😂 Thanks for getting me put of my comfort zone. Ro, I didn’t think we’d meet again like this. Small world! You’re learning and improving the big events. Here’s hoping to many more!

Vic — For being Ace Trappola when very few others would. It’s refreshing to have someone tell it like it is. I wish I could be as bold and as honest as you are sometimes. You have such a big heart when it comes to the characters you love; it makes me want to adore them like you do too 🫶

Kana — For being so sweet and patient. You helped me through so many rough patches and have also contributed a lot to the look of the blog. It’s so fun gushing with you about magical girls and pretty boys, sharing our favorite shows and movies… I feel as though I’ve made a lifelong friend.

Zari — Thank you for charms and art book, big fan of your stuff 😭 So honored to have worked with you on projects too. I hope to see a lot more of your Yuu and other OCs around, I love following them ^^

Lala — You understand, encourage, and validate my weird tastes in fictional men 💕 Really admire your sense of fashion and stylish nails too. Whenever I have my shrimp apron on, I think of you.

Arisu — No longer in the Twst fandom but integral in the earliest days. Wherever you are now, I wish you nothing but happiness.

P-san — You’re a lifesaver!! Thank you so much for helping me find cute little outfits and accessories for my plushies… They are forever grateful to be properly clothed.

V, Fa, Fe, Ray, Rea, Sonny, Glimmer Group, and Incognito Crew — Thanks for being so supportive of my hyperfixation on Disney villain anime boys, even if you guys have NO clue what I’m rambling about half of the time. To V specifically 🫵 I am NOT a cat boy kisser

Mango — I didn’t know I wanted you in my life until you showed up uninvited one day and chewed your way into my heart.

Azul Ashengrotto — For being the character that first convinced me into giving this game a shot. The Little Mermaid was something I always held so dear to me, so it almost seems like destiny that you’d be the one to drag me down into Twst. You’ll always hold a special place in my heart for that, even if my feelings have changed since then.

Rook Hunt — For being there when I needed to laugh a little. It’s scary to glance over my shoulder sometimes, but you make it easier to smile as I look back.

Rollo Flamme — For letting me know that having negative feelings is normal and human, even if we don’t always cope with them in the healthiest of ways. Let’s reflect and be better together!

Leona Kingscholar — For showing me that change and personal growth is, in fact, possible. Th-This doesn’t mean I like you or anything though, so get off your high horse—

Jade Leech — For taking my hand and guiding me back on the path when I got lost in the dark. Whatever crimes you may commit in your free time, I forgive you/j

Miss Raven Crowley — The little black bird who could, the blog muse. I made you on a whim and look at where you are now… You went from a background character to the main character of your own story. So proud of you, my child 😭

Asset compilers, fan artists, fanfic writers, fan translators, cosplayers, merch makers, editors, plushie pic takers, video essayists, theorizers, etc. — You’re all so important to keeping the fandom alive, especially during periods of official content drought. It wouldn’t be feasible for me to list out all of the content creators I enjoy (chjsbsksks and it honestly might be awkward since I haven’t directly interacted with most of them), but I hope that this message still reaches you and finds you well. Keep doing your thing; I love seeing the work you put out ^^

Anyone and everyone that I’ve ever commissioned and/or received fan works from — I appreciate that you took time and energy out of your day to create something for me. There’s so much talent in the Twst fandom and I’m honored that you would dedicate some of that to a silly little birb.

You, the Readers — For supporting this blog and and what I do here! You’re an important part of my journey too.

Thank you!! Here’s to a future unknown and a page unwritten.

- The Writing Raven

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #notes from the writing raven #milestone #twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #Raven Crowley #not my work #Leona Kingscholar #Jade Leech #commissioned art #Azul Ashengrotto #Rook Hunt

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cptnhngjng · 4 months ago

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my starlight

“you are so beautiful,” he uttered quietly, looking at you as if you were his whole entire universe.

-soft!seonghwa x virgin f!reader -2k words -soft smut, mdni, 18+ only -c/w: fingering, oral (f receiving), protected sex, soft boyfriend seonghwa, inexperienced virgin reader, seonghwa uses pet names a lot (my love, darling, baby/good girl, my starlight), praise lots of praise (praise kink go brrr)

not proofread, may be typos and mistakes 🫶🏻

this was a typical date for you and seonghwa—you’d visit him at the dorm and you two would hang out in his room, either building a lego set together, playing animal crossing, or watching a movie. tonight the two of you were working on a new lego set that seonghwa had bought when he was away for tour. he had you sitting on his lap, his chin resting on your shoulder, as he watched you sort out the small lego pieces. it was the first time that you had gotten to see seonghwa in well over a month.

his arms wrapped loosely around your waist, rubbing his fingers up and down your tummy. he missed being able to just hold you close to him, missed your soft skin, and your sweet scent. you hummed quietly as you felt seonghwa place a kiss against your exposed shoulder, your loose tank top leaving very little to the imagination. as you continued to go through the small colorful blocks in front of you, you could feel seonghwa’s fingers moving lower. he started to rub circles on your bare thighs.

seonghwa continued to kiss your shoulder, slowly moving up your neck until he reached your ear. he nipped at your lobe before whispering, “i’ve missed you so much, my love.” his hands were still on your thighs, massaging them softly.

“i’ve missed you, too, hwa,” you say back to him, while you pick up a green lego brick.

seonghwa’s hands are slowly moving their way up your thighs, closer and closer to your core. you nervously shuffle in his lap, which causes you to accidentally grind against seonghwa’s crotch. he lets out a low groan, and leans his head against your shoulder.

“y/n, please,” seonghwa breathes out. now it’s seonghwa who is shifting around underneath you. as he moves around, you can feel his erection forming against your backside. he starts to kiss along your neck and shoulder again. “i need you so bad, love.”

you and seonghwa have never gone any further than steamy make out sessions with some slight dry humping. every time things would start to go past that, you would stop him, nervous to go any further. it wasn’t because you didn’t want to. god, no, you wanted him more than anything else in this world. but at the same time, you were beyond scared to be so open and vulnerable with him. you had never been intimate with anyone before.

“seonghwa,” you start, turning slightly to look at him. the way he was looking you, his eyes dark and pupils blown— you shuddered, he looked possessed, full of desire.

seonghwa moves you from his lap and kisses you harshly, his soft plump lips devouring yours. you kiss him back, wrapping your arms around his neck. he pulls you close to his body, holding your hips tightly, as if he would lose you if he let go. with a few clumsy steps, the two of you fall back into his bed. your head on his pillow while seonghwa leaned above you, wavy hair falling into his face.

he leaned down to give you quick kisses all over your face. your forehead. your eyelids. your nose. your cheeks. finally reaching your lips. you run your fingers through his long, dark strands, lightly scratching his scalp with your nails. he gasps against your lips, feeling a shudder run down his body like an electrical current.

“y/n,” he whispers as he moves towards your neck to suck on the soft, sensitive skin. his long fingers find their way under your top, lightly caressing your soft stomach. “please let me make you feel good. i want to show you how much i love you. how much i need you.”

goosebumps flood your skin. you push seonghwa back away from you, allowing yourself to sit up, leaning back against the headboard. “hwa, you know i’ve nev—“ you start to say but get cut off by seonghwa kissing you softly, his palm cradling your cheek.

“i know, my love, i know.” he nuzzles his nose into your neck, inhaling your scent, becoming intoxicated. “i won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

you grab his hand and entangle your fingers together. he brings your hand to his lips and presses light kisses to your knuckles. “tell me to stop, and i will.” he stares right into your eyes.

“show me. teach me, seonghwa. make me yours.” your voice was quiet, but you were sure of this. you wanted seonghwa more than anything. you ached for him.

seonghwa nodded before going back to your lips and kissing you deeply, as if you were his oxygen. you leaned back onto the soft mattress, while seonghwa moved from your lips to your jawline, sprinkling your smooth skin with kisses. he makes his way down your neck to your shoulder, before stopping and marking eye contact with you. “i’m going to take your shirt off now, love.”

as he slid the loose fabric up over your torso, you lifted your arms to help him remove the tank top. your breasts were still contained by the simple, white bra you wore. nothing fancy or sexy, which made you embarrassed. you were not prepared to expose yourself to seonghwa. he worked his fingers behind you to undo your bra. the plain garment slid off, allowing your chest to be free. you crossed your arms in attempt to hide yourself.

seonghwa gently held your arms and moved them away from your chest. “you are so beautiful,” he uttered quietly, looking at you as if you were his whole entire universe.

he moves closer to you, fingers brushing softly against your nipples. his lips attach to your right nipple, sucking tenderly, while he pinches your left between his fingers. the feeling was electrifying. a gasp escaped from you as your hands made way to his hair, gripping it tightly. he hummed against your chest satisfyingly, sending vibrations through your body.

he breaks away from your nipple before making his way to the valley between your tits. he places a quick kiss before moving down your stomach, stopping right at the waistband of your shorts. he looks up at you, his eyes dark, full of lust, wanting your consent to continue. you give him a quick nod, and he smiles softly.

before you know it, seonghwa had pulled your shorts down, along with your panties, leaving you to be completely exposed. your thighs squeezed together subconsciously, wanting to hide from his hungry gaze. seonghwa leans back up towards you and kisses you softly. “let me take care of you, darling.”

you sigh into the kiss, “please.” seonghwa’s hands start caressing your thighs, slowly pulling them apart, gaining access to your cunt. he breaks the kiss and moves back down your body. soft kisses were placed on the plush skin of your thighs, making way up to your hot core.

slender fingers find their way to your slick folds. a shiver makes way through your body, as you feel him prod at your entrance. “tell me if you need me to stop,” seonghwa says before plunging two fingers into your waiting cunt. a quiet moan emits from you, causing you to be embarrassed. you felt your cheeks heating up and you try to close your thighs. but seonghwa’s hands were strong and kept them spread.

he leans into your pussy, placing a kiss on your mound before find way to your clit. his tongue rolls against the sensitive bud before sucking lightly on it, causing you to curl your toes. fingers pump into your wet hole, while he lapped up your sweet juices. the feeling was too much for you and desperate whines escape.

“ahh, seonghwa,” you moan out, hand reaching out to his hair, gripping hard while you press his face closer into your cunt. you could feel him smirk again your folds.

“good girl,” seonghwa laughed lightly, before pulling away. “feels good, doesn’t it? your pussy is so pretty and sweet tasting, i’m obsessed.”

a few more pumps from his fingers and you could feel yourself going over the edge. your thighs squeezed around seonghwa as you hit your climax, body shaking and your heart rate increasing. you fall back into the pillows, trying to catch your breath.

“my sweet girl, you are doing so good,” seonghwa whispers as he sat up, watching your chest rise and fall. “do you want to keep going?” he didn’t want to push you too far. this was all new to you and he wanted you as comfortable as possible. your eyes found way to his, and you nodded meekly, still coming down from your high.

“okay, baby girl,” he says with a slight smirk. “i got you.”

you sit up and kiss him, struggling to find words but wanting to show him how much you needed him. he was very much overdressed, still wearing all of his clothing. you tugged on the hem of his tshirt, hoping that seonghwa understands what you are trying to communicate. he chuckled softly, pulling his shirt off and tossing it to the side.

he kissed you again and you ran your hands down his toned abdomen, feeling the hard muscles under his warm skin. his honey skin. you reached the button of his jeans and you fumbled to undo it, fingers shaky with anticipation. seonghwa help you out, unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down along with his boxers, before completely taking them off. he stood in front of you completely naked now. his cock was hard and already leaking with precum. you reached out towards him, wanting to touch him.

“go ahead,” he said, watching as your finally wrap your small hand around him. “i’ll lead you, my love.”

he lets out a low moan as you slowly start to pump your hand up and down his shaft. “there you go, keep going,” he encourages you. seonghwa places his larger hand on yours and guided your movements, setting the right pace. a few more moans escape as you continue to stroke his cock with his help.

he stopped you before he got too close to cumming. his eyes were hooded and lust filled. he needed to be inside of you now. he kissed you hard and with much need, laying you back down on the bed.

“i need you so bad,” seonghwa said, desperation filling his voice. “i need to feel you on my cock so bad.”

you finally find our voice. “seonghwa, fuck me, please,” you beg of him.

he clenches his jaw, nodding. he leaned over towards the drawer next to his bed and fishes out a condom. the wrapper is torn off in a hurry and the rubber is rolled onto his waiting cock. your knees are bent and they fall to the side as seonghwa lines his dick up with your entrance. he slowly pushes in, watching your face as you try to adjust to him. he rubs soothing circles on your hip and discomfort soon becomes pleasure.

he starts to thrust slowly, making sure to hit every inch of you. he wraps your legs around his waist as he goes deeper. moans from the both of you are filling the room. you could feel the pressure filling up in your stomach, you were close to your second orgasm.

“hwa, please,” you whine out, “touch me!”

seonghwa smirked and brought his fingers to your clit and started rubbing harshly, bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm. your walls squeezed tightly around his cock as you finally came again. seonghwa grunted as his climax hit, filling up the condom with his cum. he pulls out and falls next to you on the bed.

the two of you were breathing heavily. your eyes were closed as you tried to come down from your high. meanwhile, seonghwa was watching you, admiring the flush that covered your chest and cheeks. he brushed your hair out of your face and placed a gentle kiss on your nose.

“you did so well, y/n,” he whispered to you. “i love you so much, my starlight.”

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez x reader #seonghwa #seonghwa smut #seonghwa x reader

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aureatchi · 6 months ago

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ᝰ𓂃⊹ ִֶָ SHE PAINTED THE HIGH RENAISSANCE ONTO HER BLANK CANVAS. . .ft. fyodor dostoevsky & dazai osamu

৻ꪆ RIASSUNTO. fata viam invenient...you attend a ball, fated to stumble upon two demons in disguise. you don't know whether it is for better or worse that you somehow already know them, all masqueraded as angels, regardless of how laughably far off that would be.

◞ OR ROME WAS TRULY THE PROMISED LAND, and you sought the art of chaos, rivalry, and seduction.

SERIES MASTERLIST. → ii. | PLAYLIST ♫. | wc. 9.6k+

৻ꪆ a/n. it’s FINALLY HERE !! get ready because there’s A LOT. i’ve poured sm heart into this so i hope you enjoy it as much as i do :) THANK YOU TO EVERYONE who was patient + reached out telling me how excited they are for this. this series is also my entry for @kentopedia’s love through the ages historical!au collab. thank u sm for putting this together <3

৻ꪆ info. fem!reader. renaissance!au. drama & romance. cursing. some suggestive parts. love triangle. arranged engagement. slowburn. lowk touch-starved. a lot of story buildup/complex character. suicide attempt from dazai. historical inaccuracies. bad poetry. religious imagery/symbolism.

— THE MONA LISA WASN’T REAL. And Vincenzo Peruggia was not, in fact, the person who stole the piece, contributing to the boom of its fame to the general public, but was planned in a way to frame him so that the origins of the painting would be a secret gossip only a group of the most successful artists knew about.

The gendarmes were close. They were correct in assuming that another artist could’ve stolen the painting during the investigation. But they never suspected it could be the person the portrait was painted of herself—no, obviously not Francesco del Giocondo’s wife—but the original face who remained under the cover-up.

An artist’s face, who later went under the alias of “Raphael” to conceal her contentious image and entanglements from the public eye—you.

The crashing of ice-cold water on your skin amidst the summer air. The weight of your aspirations on your shoulders, and an unknown heart who vowed to drown you…

“My, miss, you’re already stirring up tons of drama, and you’ve only been here three days!”

The past couple of months had felt like a dream. It almost seemed like yesterday when you packed your things into suitcases and moved to one of the most famous centers of the art world, Florence.

Yet now, you entered through the gates of the ‘eternal city’ itself—Rome, a great privilege granted to you by the Pope himself. You almost cried when you received his invitation, commissioning you to paint the frescos in his private library. Of course, there were some strings pulled, like the person who recommended you…

“It’s all thanks to you, Ranpo,” you giggled mischievously. As the lead architect of the Vatican (but before that, your friend), he had told the Pope, “...she might as well become the best painter in all history. She may not be well known here in Rome, but say her name in Florence, and you’ll awaken the whole city. You’ll realize you’ve found a diamond among all the rubble. Trust me on this one; I’m never wrong.”

“It was nothing,” Ranpo replied with a smug smile. “His Holiness, Fukuzawa never doubts my word.” He tapped his head with his forefinger and winked. “Not only does he recognize my talent in the arts, he also acknowledges my outstanding intellect! I’d be a detective in another life.”

You chuckled before he continued. “The rest is all on you, princess. Again, you’re progressing quickly-” he pulled out a letter to summarize out loud.

“-His Holiness was so impressed that he’s giving you the rest of the rooms to paint,” Ranpo said while you stared at him with widened eyes. “He…fired everyone else who was working on them. On top of that, he invites you to a ball happening in a couple of days to make an announcement on new projects. Other than you, he’s invited only the most influential artisans to attend alongside the aristocrats.”

“No way!” You grabbed Ranpo’s hands in excitement.

“Yes, way.” He let you spin him around on the pavement in eagerness, your long dress following along. “Though, I feel like you’re going to have to explain to him how you painted the library’s frescos so quickly.”

Your turbulence of elation calmed. “Hm, you’re right.

“I hope the question slips his mind.”

You hadn’t actually told Ranpo, but it always seemed like he would figure out everything about you anyway. There was one reason why you had become so famous in Florence. You created masterpieces in what felt like seconds—it was almost like you were granted the touch of creation itself. No one had ever seen you paint, so the mystery of how you were able to produce your portraits in mere weeks—sometimes days remained a mystery to the entire world, no matter how fast science progressed.

You called it an ability. To be able to visualize—a mental image in your head you wanted to come to life in the form of a still painting on a canvas was what you did. You conjured the concept yourself, freezing daydream into textile.

You weren’t sure why you possessed something supernatural, or perhaps there were other artists you didn’t know who could also do the same thing, but firstly, you kept it a secret—it seemed almost inhuman to hold such a power. Yet secondly, it was even more the reason to follow in your father’s footsteps.

He, too, was a painter in the courts of Urbino and would’ve liked to become a famous artist as well. Now, that dream lived on through you—you had studied and trained under his teachers and other artists until you mastered their techniques from the foundations to geometry. Your father was no longer alive, but you were sure he’d be proud of you for getting this far.

“Oh, one more thing,” Ranpo said.

“The two angels of art are going to be there.” The brunette closed his eyes and rested his arms behind his head as if he already knew the shocked expression awaiting your face. “Your inspirations. Osamu Dazai of Milan and your fiancé, Fyodor Dostoevsky of Florence.”

“Pardon me, Fyodor?”

…

A long time ago, your uncle—your now legal guardian—arranged your marriage to Fyodor Dostoevsky. However, the same would’ve happened even if your father had been in charge due to his family’s good societal position.

It was just meant to be, you guessed.

Coincidentally, Fyodor had also taken an interest in art the few times you two saw each other when you were younger, and you eventually saw him go on to become the most talented sculptor in Florence.

However, your path of similarities ran cold after that. You hadn’t seen him in years, and you weren’t even close. You were obligated to write to each other once a month, but each message almost seemed like business transactions rather than love letters. Fyodor was too aloof a person despite being well-educated and polite—though he checked off every other box (and you were sure any other woman would want him), you realized you would never be able to connect with him. He was just not interested.

You couldn’t do anything to change the engagement, but as long as there was no set wedding date to look (dread) forward to, you were content with life for now.

You didn’t necessarily like Fyodor, nor did you go to Rome to finally pursue him, but you admired him from a different standpoint.

He and Osamu Dazai were truly angels of art; even gods, if the Church was not one’s forte. Everyone across the country knew their names—patrons and civilians alike worshipped them at the feet. Even the powerful Medici family, sought by every artist to be commissioned, held close ties with both.

Clientages saved their money to have the two paint for them, upcoming artists aspired and envied their success, ladies came with their names rolling off their tongues to the horror of their husbands’ faces—they were rumored to be devilishly handsome, too. Self-portraits of the prodigies were yet to be made, but you didn’t doubt it one bit. If Dazai was anything like Fyodor, he had to be fanciable too.

They had the world and heavens as masterpieces in their hands; one could say their names traveled as far as the badlands. You arrived in Florence right after they departed for Rome, and you studied the creations left behind to figure out how they made crowds swoon and create such huge impressions on people.

And you found their pieces were indeed the pinnacle of the renascene summer. You silently made them your mentors, incorporating what was successful for them into your own works.

…

“And you’ll be there, right, Ranpo?”

“Of course, so don’t you worry your pretty head about a thing,” he tapped his head with a smile. “Though, I have some work to finish first, so I’ll leave thee to explore Rome.”

“Don’t take the wrong wagon this time,” you giggled. Ranpo was late to meet you on your first day because he kept taking the wrong passenger coach to get to you. For some reason, he was knowledgeable at everything but navigating transportation.

“I’m taking a horse this time,” Ranpo replied.

“Even worse! You better not fall off!”

There was a tailor you had been recommended to by your aunt before you departed. You decided to head to his shop first to find a dress to wear for the evening.

“Good day, my lady,” the couturier said with a kind smile. “I have multiple options of gowns for you tonight. Please do take your time selecting.”

“Gramercy,” you replied with a smile in turn. Your measurements had been sent to him a few weeks ago, so that you wouldn’t have to wait for your garments to be made.

He brought out at least four cioppas. You didn’t even care to figure out how many in total because among all the regal reds, greens, and royal blues stood out a silk, off-white dress with gold accents. Your eyes were immediately drawn in, though you couldn’t put your finger on why. It wasn’t the most showy in the bunch, but that didn’t matter to you. It was like a rare gem among common stones—though you would need a good eye to really appreciate its uniqueness.

You ran your fingertips across the fabric, closely observing its craftsmanship. You became fascinated with the opulent designs on the flowy skirt and the long sleeves. You guessed that if you didn’t take it, you’d instead dream of it for the rest of your days in regret and freeze it in one of your paintings for eternity.

“I think I’ll try this one first.”

Your first choice proved worthwhile when you tried on the gown in the separate dressing room. You exchanged the simple front-laced bodice and plain cotton attire for the new, elegant piece sewn just for you. The fabric hugged and complimented your curves in all the right places, creating the most flattering look as you turned in front of the mirror.

You imagined yourself with your hair styled and matching jewelry to accompany it—you felt like a princess. Perhaps this confidence was the only thing that would help you get through the ball this evening and perhaps your entire time here. You hadn’t been around so much aristocracy in years—though you grew up privileged, you preferred to live humbly and simply focus on your hobby (and you spared your change on those in need). You were lovely yourself, no doubt, and maybe that’s why you charmed many people of different social classes as you grew more popular.

You studied yourself through the mirror again, and it was like the polarity of your dresses reflected the fate of this new chapter of life set against the one you left behind.

The weight of your aspirations on your shoulders and an unknown heart that vowed to drown you…you suddenly felt cold. You rushed to get out of the room.

“It’s perfect on you,” the tailor said, unable to disguise his awe when you asked him for his opinion and to ensure all the sizing was correct. You nodded in curiosity when he asked, “Now, would you like to know the inspiration behind the dress?” You always looked forward to seeing how your tailors incorporated your personality and family style into their design.

“It’s a play on a singular topic,” he said.

“Angels. A dual purpose signifying both the type of art you create and how you give off an entrancing allure—they will be curious about your enigmatic yet enchanting importance. That will be your statement tonight among the darker colors.”

The earlier thought of comparing your two inspirations to angels came to mind. You decided right then—you found no need to try on any of the others.

“I’ll have this one sent for me tonight,” you said. “Thank you again.”

Rome was alive and busy with action at every corner you turned. You strolled down the streets with no set destination, admiring the liveliness of the city. There were markets and shops everywhere and merchants with all sorts of foreign goods.

You discovered a ruella at the corner of one street, and the door was widely opened. You peered in to see a group of women inside, probably discussing various intellectual topics.

You decided to go inside and socialize, having nothing better to do. As you stepped into the salon, they all turned to greet you.

“Good day, miss,” a few of them said.

“Oh, aren’t you the Florentine artist?” one of them asked. She moved to the side so you’d have a spot to sit.

I got recognized, you thought, and you couldn’t hide your smile.

“My husband was there awhile back,” she continued as you sat beside her. “He couldn’t stop talking about how enamored he was with your style and was sure you’d make it here next. Looks like he was correct!”

“I’m very flattered,” you responded, a warm tint in your cheeks.

“Did you recently arrive?” she asked. “I hope your journey here went smoothly.”

“Yes, it went alright!�� you said. “The weather wasn’t too bad, and I enjoyed the views on the way. I even passed by some lakes…”

You felt it again. A shiver ran down your spine. The crashing of ice-cold water on your skin that stood perpendicular to summer’s balmy weather. The intense feeling to stay alive—to save yourself and the soul you did not know…

Your journey had gone smoothly up until you passed by one of the lakes near Rome. It had been a peaceful day, and your coach driver suggested that you look outside. You lifted the curtain and were received with one of nature’s blessings—verdant grass and plants that thrived around clear blue waters.

You could’ve painted it if you remembered the sight. You truly could have if the memory of the scene wasn’t tainted by what you saw seconds after.

“Hey, is that a person?” you asked your driver, squinting your eyes—unblemished, untouched picture shattering in your head. The land on one side of the lake was vastly elevated, creating a cliff on that end, and a figure stood in the distance.

A moment passed.

“…Yes, my lady.”

Your eyes weren’t betraying you—there was a man dangerously close to the cliff’s ledge, and you weren’t born yesterday to not know what he was thinking of doing.

“Stop the wagon,” you said, a slip of panic in your tone. Your driver looked back at you hesitantly, but you ordered once again.

“Please stop the wagon. Don’t come after me. And don’t tell anyone about this.”

The horses carrying you came to a halt, and you rushed out of the chaise. You weren’t sure what had gotten into you at that moment—there was a random person you happened to catch making more than a terrible decision, why get involved—but you couldn’t stop now as it was like your legs were carrying you themselves. You immediately took off east towards the cliff. It would take you a few minutes until you got to the man.

What would you even tell him? Would you try to talk him out of it? Gaslight him into stepping away from the edge? Offer to paint him a custom piece for free?—“Oh, I’m actually a famous artist in the country, I can paint you whatever you wish. But I can’t really do that if you kill yourself.” You dashed past grass and rocks as you hurried up the hill.

You would definitely have to change once you got back—the bottom of your dress was already soiled, and you were sweating.

Splash!

Your face was struck in complete horror at the loud sound. You peered over the edge to see huge ripples cascading across the surface of the lake.

Oh shit!

You ran back down and then towards the shore. You thanked God that you weren’t using any heavy layers under your dress that day and prayed you weren’t going to end up killing yourself as well. You knew how to swim, but the man was far from the bank.

Am I really going to do this?

This might’ve been the most spontaneous thing I’ve done. And the worst.

You liked to think that if you saved him, you would be rewarded in some other way. A good Samaritan—you thought. It had to be worth it. You couldn’t die before your new life even began.

You submerged yourself into what felt like frozen water, your clothing suddenly feeling uncomfortable around you. Still, you wasted no time swimming toward the man who jumped in.

He was already sinking—of course, this lake has to be deep. You immediately grabbed onto his waist when you got to him, but not before you took a good look at his face. He was probably of the working class because he only wore a simple white shirt. You also noticed he was covered by an absurd amount of bandages. Soft waves of brunette hair framed the man’s profile, and he looked far more content and at peace than he should’ve been. In any other situation, you would’ve thought he was taking a pleasant nap by the way his eyes were closed, and his lips were slightly parted.

You’d never seen anyone so pretty underwater. If you hadn’t seen him as a human above land, you would’ve thought he was a mermaid or some other foreign creature.

Your thoughts and observations were interrupted when you realized you couldn’t hold your breath any longer. Trying not to panic anymore, you first tried to drag the two of you up above the water, but you weren’t strong enough to battle the weight of it against the two of you.

You would have to swim to shore and didn’t know if you had enough air to return.

Well, I need to make it work anyway, you thought. You wouldn’t let this mysterious guy you didn’t know cut off everything you wanted to pursue.

You took ahold of one of the man’s loose arms and, with determination, tried to propel yourself the way you came from, kicking your legs through the water. You were more than correct in assuming it would be complicated—the energy in your body drained quickly.

You were only halfway from where you started when you accidentally choked. But that caused you to completely seize up—water poured into your lungs like open floodgates, and you were unable to breathe. You tried to push yourself up to get air, but you were already too weak to carry even yourself.

The weight of your aspirations on your shoulders and trying to save an unknown heart that had led to you drown—you wondered if he was still alive. He would have to be resuscitated at this point, and you realized, you too. If anyone came in time to save you, that was. You shouldn’t have had ordered your driver to not follow after you. Or rushed into the lake unprepared.

Or involve yourself with this man. It was his decision to jump off the cliff…and now you had tied his own weight onto your life. Maybe it was all too heavy to carr—

“I’m happy to hear,” the woman replied, oblivious to and interrupting the encounter you were replaying in your head. “I wish you the most success here.”

“Thank you,” you replied. “You are very kind.”

“I am a bit nervous,” you whispered. “I’ll be meeting His Holiness for the first time and other artists. Do I even compare to them?”

It was evening now. You had spent the last couple of hours preparing for the ball after exploring town—you had on the classy cream-colored dress you selected earlier from the tailor, accompanied by a couple of necklaces. Your hair was put up in a complex style and fastened by a few pieces of jewelry.

Your mind utterly conflicted with your appearance, though. Your thoughts were in chaotic peril—you tried to hide the fact that you had been pacing around your room in anxiousness right up until Ranpo picked you up.

“Thou art second to none, miss,” Ranpo replied with a wink and a tight squeeze of your hand. It had only half the same effect as his bear hugs the viridescent-eyed would give you when you weren’t in public, but it was enough. “There’s no reason to be nervous. You fascinated him long ago—you might’ve even been his favorite if I wasn’t here!”

“Maybe so.” You giggled at his lighthearted smugness. “Well then, let’s get going.”

Ranpo nodded and led you through the large doors of the ballroom. Immediately, you were greeted with the celestial light from the chandeliers contrasting the dark evening sky outside.

Your eyes drifted in awe among the artigiani and aristocratici of Rome. It was almost chimerical—you hardly remembered you were still holding Ranpo’s hand. The scene looked like it came straight out of a painting.

“Appealing so far?” Ranpo asked, guiding you down the stairwell. “Can it stand against the Florentine carnivals?”

You slowly nodded, still focused on the liveliness surrounding you. “It feels divine.” It was more prestigious than any event you’d been to so far—most likely because this was held in one of the Pope’s courts itself.

“You haven’t even experienced it yet,” Ranpo laughed before leading you into the waltzing crowd. “Shall we dance?”

You and Ranpo followed the movements of the other couples. When you were sure of the pattern of the steps, your eyes wandered again to admire the setting. Everyone was dressed to the nines—although, as your tailor said, they all wore darker colors. You pretended to not notice the looks you received from strangers—however, they were not insulting. They were out of captivation and marvel.

Multiple pieces of artwork were hung around the hall, too, and you wondered if the chosen artists who created them were here now. You considered if they knew of your name too, just as you recognized theirs.

However, your heart almost stopped when you were reminded of a completely different topic. Ranpo noticed a moment of shock flash through your eyes but did not proceed to question you. (Thankfully, he knew when you would prefer him not to be nosy.)

You saw the back of a man’s head dressed in pure white—his brunette hair in slightly messy, soft waves.

There is no way.

However, you could not confirm your suspicions because he approached a lady in a beautiful, deep red gown to ask for a dance. His face and figure became completely hidden as he waltzed with her at the opposite side of the room.

“See someone you know?” you heard Ranpo ask.

Of course he didn’t need to be nosy, because he figured out everything about you anyway.

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” you responded quietly, still trying to get a glimpse of him, but before you could say anything more, a guard standing next to the entrance silenced the entire crowd.

“Enter, His Holiness, Fukuzawa!”

You immediately turned around, and once more was someone dressed in white—the Pope, Yukichi Fukuzawa. You glanced at Ranpo, who gave you a nod of reassurance before politely applauding with everyone else.

“Thank you for attending this event today,” Fukuzawa started. “Our city has made much progress due to the collaboration and contribution of our artists, so I would like to take tonight to celebrate all of them. Ultimately, I want to reveal the next upcoming project.”

After a few more words, everyone applauded again, and the party resumed activity. You and Ranpo moved away from the dance, him deciding it was finally time to do the thing you were dreading.

“Look over there.” Ranpo urged his head towards two men in conversation standing a few feet away.

If the ballroom really represented the heavens, surely these two were the angels. Even without Ranpo telling you, you knew them to be Osamu Dazai and Fyodor Dostoevsky, standing side by side, white suits further proving their empyreal position.

But your eyes widened, and if you hadn’t been careful, your jaw would’ve dropped, too. Obviously, you recognized Fyodor—tall, jet-black hair—handsome and intimidating as ever, but you didn’t dwell on him for too long. Your eyes quickly scanned the room in search of a woman from earlier with dark curls, dressed in deep red, and when you found her, she was no longer dancing with the brunette dressed in white.

You looked back at the man beside Fyodor.

It’s him.

And as if hell—fate, whatever wanted to taunt you further, Osamu Dazai noticed you and Ranpo first, pausing his share of thoughts with the ravenette. You locked eyes with him, and you immediately became embarrassed.

What the hell? First, one of them is my fiancé, whom I don’t even say a word to, and then the second is…him?

Perhaps we shall meet again, were the brunette’s words to you by that lake. You truly didn’t believe him then, but it wasn’t the first time you choked on your assumptions.

In a split second, you pulled Ranpo out of sight. “Ranpo,” you pleaded. “I can’t meet them now!” Your fingers hastily ran through your hair, making sure everything was in place. “I’m not even sure what to say-”

“You’ll have to rip off the bandage sooner or later,” he said, tugging on you. “And I say the sooner, the better! I’ll introduce you to them!” You felt even more displaced at the fact that he offered to introduce you to your own fiancé. However, before you could even object (or say, “Ranpo, somehow I already fucking know both of them!”), he dragged you back—toward the two painters.

“Good evening, my lords,” Ranpo said as you approached them.

You didn’t miss how Dazai’s face lit up in a curt smile. Meanwhile, Fyodor had on a neutral expression—probably the only appearance you ever saw him wear.

“Good evening, Edogawa, the darling of His Holiness,” Fyodor said, the slightest spite in his tone. He did not glance at you at all.

“Still as cold-hearted as ever, Il Divino-Painter,” Ranpo replied with a chuckle, but it was apparent that he did not like the man.

“I am a sculptor,” Fyodor corrected, a bogus smile still plastered on his face.

“Don’t mind him,” Dazai said, patting your friend’s shoulder. “He’s just jealous you’re in charge of planning out the entire Vatican palace. And also at the fact His Holiness had to force him into a suit!” When Fyodor gave him a look, Dazai turned to you.

He had eyes of the sunset, paving the way of something between hell and earth—though in a perfect world, it should’ve been the other way around because he looked as if he had just come down from heaven. You felt your cheeks warm and an uncertain feeling in your stomach.

“Good evening, my lady,” Dazai said, knocking you out of your reverie. You blushed again as he knelt to take your hand and kiss it, bowing before you—the single minute felt longer than nox itself.

Was this the same man you met at the lake a few days ago?

He was the artist you admired all along?

“Apologies for not greeting you first,” he continued as he stood up. “I did see you earlier. How could anyone not notice the angel of Florence who creates masterpieces in days, especially when she looks like one tonight?” You became even more flustered by his sweet words.

He was familiar with my name all along.

“Ah, so you already recognize her?” Ranpo asked.

“Of course I do!” You suddenly tensed—half expecting him to reveal your previous encounter with him that you did not want anyone else to know. (If Ranpo knew, you hoped he would keep his mouth shut for your sake.) It would cause too much trouble if someone decided to spread it, and even worse if your uncle found out. He was very strict on image.

But to your relief, he did not.

“I am very fond of your style, my lady,” Dazai said, resting his hand under his chin. “Madonna del Granduca,” one of your paintings. “You capture human sentiment and emotion so well, even in the most simplistic pieces.”

Finally, you were able to respond to one of his compliments without becoming a mess. “Thank you.”

“...And sfumato, your technique,” Fyodor added. “Perhaps you like her style so much because she takes it from you.”

It was only now Fyodor finally acknowledged you.

He may just be the son of Nyx. His intentions were tucked away behind amethyst eyes, slumbering in the peaceful twilight he allowed mercy to while all else was caught up in chaotic darkness. Maybe no one else noticed that—if anyone did, Fyodor would not be as beloved as he was now—but you did. You saw through the three strands of malice that laced his following words.

“Good evening,” he said softly. He kneeled in front of you with your hand, tormenting you with eye contact.

“It’s an honor to see you again, miss. Though I must ask, was Florence not enough?

“Is grasping originality so tough?

“Are you here to copy more artistic concepts to boost your own depictions of seraph?”

He delivered a deadly kiss to your hand before you could respond, and before he could see the puzzlement on your face.

“Excuse me?”

But you did not falter before him as he stood back up. He did not intimidate you.

“I’m flattered.”

For once, the slightest sign of curiosity seeped onto Fyodor’s face.

You gave him a poisonous smile of your own.

“Sfumato—the blending of colors to create smooth transitions between them,” you explained, giving a nod toward Dazai. “I’m honored that you immersed yourself so much with my painting that you could observe such a detail.”

Ranpo pretended to look around the hall as if he wasn’t paying attention to what was happening, while Dazai couldn’t keep a snort from escaping his throat.

You kept your eyes fixed on your fiancé’s violet gaze, trying to figure out whether or not you’d be dead after the night was over. Actually—he seemed like the type that could seduce someone into death. Stygian black hair framed against his pallid complexion—ethereal, no doubt, yet you would not be surprised if he turned out to be the Grim Reaper’s right-hand man. (And you were supposed to marry him!)

“I’m here because His Holiness summoned me to paint the frescos in his house. I feel that if he sensed plagiarism in my work, he would’ve not trusted me with this project.

“What about you, my lord?”

There was a pause; he was thinking.

“I am simply searching for something important,” he replied. “An inspiration, if you want to call it. I need it to complete a piece I have been working on.”

“And you’re sure you can find it here?”

“You can find anything in the promised land, solnyshka.”

The foreign word rolled off of his tongue like honey. He dressed his voice to sound like a lullaby, and you remembered why you thought of him as an angel before he decided to insult you.

What a juxtaposition.

“What did you say?”

“Did you not hear me?”

He wasn’t going to tell you what he said, nor what he meant in entirety. “Nevermind. I did. Good luck trying to find it.”

…

“May I have this next dance, my lady?”

The charming brunette extended his left hand out to you. You had become irritated with Fyodor after his apparent distaste for you—So this is how you treat me after years of not seeing each other? You thought you could at least try becoming acquainted with him to make your inevitable fate a bit easier for both of you, but it seemed like that wasn’t happening anytime soon. You left the conversation at the nearest opportunity and moved to the other side of the room, unaware that your other dilemma was following you.

“Lord Dazai?”

You noticed something new about him as he stood in front of you. Those sunset orbs also harbored a concept as far as the sun. There was something distant in them that felt like half of his mind was immersed somewhere else. You wondered where.

“I don’t like Dostoevsky at all either,” Dazai chuckled. “Even though tonight’s given me another rival on my list, I like you way more.”

“Don’t speak so soon,” you scoffed. “You’re going to hate me when I take all your customers.”

“I don’t think I could ever hate you, bella.” You frowned at his attempt to flirt. “And besides, many of them are very loyal to me.”

You hesitantly took Dazai’s hand as he led you to the floor, joining the circle of couples who had already lined up to dance the almaine.

“I’m still annoyed with you,” you said quietly as the two of you lightly skipped across the floor on your toes, never breaking eye contact with his tawny eyes. That same look was there—it was like he was thinking of everything and nothing all at once. “I’m only agreeing to this so I could boost my status. You just caught me off guard back there. That’s why I acted nice.”

He dramatically pretended he was offended.

“Why, tesora?” Dazai took both of your hands. You circled around each other gracefully before reversing to step in the other direction. “I saved you! If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t be dancing here tonight and finally knowing the name of the poor soul who jumped into the lake!”

“If it weren’t for you, I also wouldn’t have nearly drowned, idiota,” you glared.

“Keyword: nearly!”

You continued sulking at him while the dance went on, ignoring the rest of his defensive sentences and the friendly endearments he added to the end of them.

“Ow!”

Dazai had stepped on your foot during another turn.

“What was that for?” you asked, silently observing how he made sure he did not catch your dress along too, so it would not ruin.

“Hm? What do you mean?” Dazai spun you again; this time, he stepped on your other foot.

“Lor- Dazai!” You disliked how much fun he was having with this. Now, he wore a mischievous gleam in his eyes that coupled an unmistakable, playful grin.

He spun you one last time, and this time, you purposely stepped on his foot.

“Hey—why did you do that!?” he pouted.

“Thou did it first,” you replied dryly. “You’re a bad dancer, my lord. You can’t even keep up with the slow ballroom almain.”

He smirked as the number concluded, and then he brought you to the center of the floor.

You looked around to see at least half of the couples moving off, either to watch or go elsewhere.

“Let’s see if you can keep up with this one,” he chuckled lowly.

“What dance is this?” you asked.

“A galliard. The La Volta.”

Your lips slightly parted to say something, but you didn’t know what.

It made sense now why so many chose not to participate in this one. The La Volta was a bit obscene—first, the women were lifted up in springs and jumps, even though that was usually improper. It was also very fast—it would require skill to do it comfortably, especially with the long, heavy gowns you wore.

Finally, it required close contact between the couples, which was…scandalous. Like a forbidden fruit.

You had never danced it before. Nor had you planned to. You were engaged, after all.

I bet noone in this room, but Fyodor himself and Ranpo even know we’re to marry, though, you thought to yourself, even though you shouldn’t even be considering excuses. …And he probably couldn’t even care less.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Dazai said, a bit more seriously, leaving it up to your decision, but his eyes alleged something else. Like he was pleading to let you indulge.

The forbidden fruit and its serpent. Why was this man always tempting you to things that could sabotage your name? It was as if his heart vowed to drown you to doom…

“No, I’ll do it,” you decided.

…yet you had let him, again and again. The descendants of Eve never learned.

“They call you the Renaissance Man, my lord? I’ll steal your title when I show everyone I can do more than paint…and outdo you in dance.”

“Dance is a form of art, too, y’know,” Dazai smiled before he parted from you. “How about instead, you think of it like we’re creating our own special piece together.”

“Competition,” you disagreed in one word, curtsying before him as the drums cued.

“Collaboration,” he bowed.

You two rose, and a new tension was ignited in the room. Your eyes locked with his again, but this time more determined—more passionate, as you gracefully swept to the left while the brunette the opposite way. You continued that movement while also gravitating closer.

Closer, until he was finally able to lay hands on your waist.

“Look up, miss,” Dazai softly reminded you. “Too flustered that you’ve forgotten etiquette?”

You didn’t even realize your eyes chased down to where he was holding you—no man had touched anywhere near your corset before. You felt nervous; it was supposed to be so wrong, so why did his hold feel so right? As if his fingers were always supposed to be wrapped around you, the final touches to a masterpiece of intimacy.

You were falling for it—the serpent’s art of seduction. This wasn’t supposed to be a collaboration.

“What happened to your confidence?” Dazai teased, whispering in your ear; you felt his breath tickling your skin.

Your eyes drifted back to his in embarrassment, but you couldn’t give your rival the entertainment of winning against you in something you proposed. Fighting against your nerves, you wrapped one of your arms around Dazai’s broad shoulder.

“Shut up.”

He lifted you by the hips to aid as you lept and turned around him, his left thigh pushing you upward, and that same nervous excitement returned to your stomach. It was as if pools conjoining both everything and oblivion at once lay physically on you. His gaze resembled hands—he caressed your shoulders; he traced your face like he wanted to paint every angle of you.

He was gentle with his actual hold on you, too; Dazai carried you as delicately as the brush strokes he made on canvas. He carefully set you down with ease after every jump while still treating you like a porcelain doll, and there you made the mistake of wandering your eyes down to his lips, lightly parted—you realized this was the second closest time this man had come near enough to kiss you.

His body was so warm, he could pull you flush against him if he wanted to. His breath was minty, the coolness of his mouth addicting, and if Eden smelled heavenly too, he had truly just slithered down, carrying the sweet, earthly scent along with him. All your senses were overloaded by the man standing before you like alcohol; you wondered if you’d even end up home by the end of the night.

“You’re enjoying this way more than to simply boost thy status.”

In that moment, you snapped out of your haze of dopamine, and the music faded into a new routine. You also realized that an entire audience had been watching you. That was not ideal.

You scooted back right after Dazai released his hold on you, looking down in coyness. “Maybe I’m just a good actor.”

“You’re a terrible one,” he chuckled, following you out of the crowd. “You can’t even look at me to sell your lie!”

You glared at the brunette once more. “I don’t have to look at you to tell you the truth.”

“So cold-hearted,” he sighed. “Even after a dance to loosen you up. Guess I need to work harder to ask you out.”

“For what, a double suicide?” You once again recalled some other things he had said during your weird, fated meet at the lake.

“Exactly! You remember!”

“Well, sorry, that’s not happening,” you responded. “Go find some other lady to ask. I’m sure you do this all the time anyway.”

Because how did he touch you so perfectly? How did he dim out every other person in the room to make it seem like it was just you two?

He paused. “No, I don’t. You’re the first person I danced this galliard with. You realize we were even in skill, right?”

“Didn’t seem like it. And I don’t understand why you chose me.”

“You fascinate me, angel of Florence,” Dazai said. “You did save me in a way. Sure, we’re rivals. But one day, I’ll paint you myself.

“You’re too beautiful to not.”

…

“I hope you all have had a lovely night,” Fukuzawa spoke over the room. “To conclude the gathering, I would like to announce what the Vatican’s next project will be.”

Artists all around you waited in anticipation, for good reason. You and Dazai looked at each other too. You’d already experienced it for yourself—a commission from the Pope himself guaranteed immediate, enormous success (and money; your job from him was your biggest pay so far). Whatever he proposed required another artist, and it could be anyone in the room.

“The Sistine Chapel,” Fukuzawa said. “The large crack that has formed along the ceiling is to be repaired in the upcoming year.”

There were a few chatters after that. The chapel was insanely impressive—the interior of the large building was covered in stunning frescos by some of the great artists who had come before you. Even though the Pope hadn’t even said what the job was to be, anyone working on things concerning it would have to be just as good as its predecessors.

“Along with reparations, its panels shall be painted.”

There were a few gasps from the patrons. Was that even possible? How could someone even paint the ceiling without it being taken off of the roof? And it was so large, too, like a mega-sized canvas.

It was unheard of.

“I have already selected the person I would like to work on this,” Fukuzawa continued. There was silence again.

“It’s probably Dostoevsky,” Dazai said to you.

Fyodor? “Why do you think so?” you asked.

“He completely stole the spotlight with that statue of David he finished this year,” he dryly chuckled. “Well deserved, I’m afraid. You saw it too when you were in Florence, did you?”

“Yeah,” you replied. You had to acknowledge how impressive it was for yourself. It was like the man turned hard stone into pliable clay.

“But that’s sculpting, not painting.”

“Oh? Do you think you’d be a better candidate?”

He was smiling again. “No, I never said that,” you scoffed. “I was going to say maybe you’d have a chance-”

“Fyodor Dostoevsky,” Fukuzawa said.

Oh.

You paused, scanning the room to see where he was.

He was on the other side, intently making his way to the Pope.

“I request you to paint the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.”

Fyodor stood in front of him and then bowed.

“...I offer my sincerest gramercy for this opportunity, Your Holiness,” the artist said.

There was a pause.

“…I would like to discuss the rest of what this entails in private.”

Your brows furrowed. That was almost a bit…rude. Sure, he hadn’t declined the offer, but for whatever reason, he also didn’t accept it.

“Very well,” Fukuzawa replied without a change in his tone. “I adjourn this party. Bonam noctem.”

There was a final applause for him and the city’s next project, and then everyone began filing out.

However, you and Dazai stayed in place until Ranpo suddenly tugged on your arm.

“There you are! Let’s go!”

“W-Where?” you asked as he started to drag you away.

“Goodnight!” you heard Dazai say before disappearing into the crowd. His small smile remained in your memory, and a part of you wished you could give him a proper goodbye.

“To eavesdrop, duh,” Ranpo replied as he sifted you through everyone moving the opposite way. “Don’t you also want to hear what Fyodor has to say?”

“I don’t understand why he didn’t just accept the proposal,” you said. “Anyone else would do it in a heartbeat!” You were sort of jealous; that job was given to someone so ungrateful! If you were the one who recieved it, you would’ve put your entire effort into transforming the ceilings right away.

“I don’t know how he’s so beloved,” Ranpo continued. “Not even His Holiness likes him that much; he just doesn’t show bias when choosing people to paint his architecture. Did you know Fyodor was supposed to produce his tomb?”

“What happened with that? I thought it was being worked on by a few other artists.”

“He kept clashing with His Holiness about it,” he said. “Until the plans got so messed up, Fyodor called it a ‘tragedy’ and left Rome for a while. Quite literally abandoned it.”

What an asshole! Especially in front of His Holiness!

“I don’t like him at all,” Ranpo squeezed your arm. It had become quite apparent to you that Ranpo admired Fukuzawa—not just because he was his so-called favorite or because he was the Pope, but something else. You had seen them together during the party earlier, and you were reminded of father and son. “He has a nasty ego, and I can’t figure out his intentions. I feel off every time I meet with him.”

“Intentions? For what?”

“Don’t be stupid, miss,” Ranpo said. “He told you himself, he’s here for something. It’s just so annoying! He hides it all behind those stupid, purple eyes…”

You approached the entrance to a hallway at the very back of the room, and you heard two familiar voices outside.

“...I carve marble, not paint.”

“You discredit your skill with a brush too much.”

“Your Holiness, we had very different views during the last commission you gave me,” you overheard Fyodor say. “I simply don’t want to cause another commotion with this.”

You only peeked through the large doorway to hear more clearly, but Ranpo continued walking right in as if they wouldn’t notice.

“R-Ranpo!” you whispered harshly.

Immediately, Fukuzawa and Fyodor looked at you both, and you scrambled behind Ranpo.

“I’m so sorry, Your Holiness,” you replied, accidentally locking eyes with Fyodor, who looked at you unfazed as if he had already noticed you two a mile away. You couldn’t even think of an excuse to explain what you were doing there, but then Fukuzawa resumed the conversation without a care.

“I see then,” he replied and then gave it some thought. “I felt you were the only one who was fit for the matter, but perhaps I could just hand it to-”

Fukuzawa looked at you, and Fyodor looked at him before looking at you.

“Ah, what I said was just a concern,” Fyodor interrupted to your dismay. “I’ll accept your commission on one condition.”

The three of you waited.

“On the contract, it shall be stated that noone shall view the inside of the Chapel until it is completed,” Fyodor stated. “Including yourself, Your Highness.”

He thought for another moment.

“Very well, Fyodor. It will be arranged.”

What a rat!

It had been a few weeks since that eventful ball. You had started work on painting the rooms in the Pope’s chambers—there were sketches of concepts scattered all over your desk. Coupled with your thoughts—thoughts reliving all the situations you were thrown into that night.

You hadn’t seen the two angels since then. Well…would you even call them that anymore?

Knock, knock, knock!

“Hey! Let me in!” You heard Ranpo’s voice from outside your house. You were still half-asleep, trying to make breakfast, but you immediately rushed to open the door.

“Ranpo!” You were startled. “What are you doing here so early?”

“Stop complaining. You’re going to love this.”

He stuck his hand into his pocket and then revealed a set of shiny keys.

“Sitting in my palm are the keys to the Sistine Chapel.”

“No way.” It was like the sight fully awakened you, like caffeine. “Ranpo…how?!”

“Hmph!” He shook his head. “You underestimate me so much when you quite literally depend on me!” When you laughed, he continued. “Lord Fyodor’s on a business trip until next week. Do with that info as you wish.”

“You’re a genius,” you replied with a mischievous grin as he threw you the keys.

“Of course I am! I despise him, but I’m too lazy to mess with him right now, so I’ll just leave it up to you. After all, he didn’t want to do it initially because he thought you set it up.”

“By me?” you asked, shocked. “He hates painting so much that he thought I had a hand in it? Imagine giving away the Sistine Chapel.”

He was really something else. Was dead set on declining the offer right until His Holiness debated giving it to me…

…

Ranpo sat at the dining table eating the remaining tarts left over while you finished washing the dishes in the kitchen after your meal. Your move had gone smoothly, and you were pleased with the home you created for yourself—the windows in front of the sink were opened, letting air and the sounds of nature in as you looked outside.

“His Holiness instructed me to paint over the previous works in the Palace when I first walked inside because he deemed what I could produce more important than what was already up there,” you told him with your own dash of pride. You couldn’t contain the bright smile that flashed on your face.

“Just as I suspected,” he replied, pleased.

“...But social-wise, I think I dug a hole for myself.”

“Definitely!” Ranpo said with no hesitation, popping another dessert into his mouth. He already knew what you were going to talk about. You gave him a look before sighing, realizing that he probably was right.

“A few days ago, I overheard people in the salons saying that…I have a special thing going on with Lord Dazai. It’s not true! I don’t know why he was being so friendly with me!”

You hadn’t even seen him after that night. Maybe you were a little disappointed, but you should’ve seen that coming anyway. He was known as a charmer, but he hadn’t committed to anyone. And regardless, you were to marry Fyodor one day.

Ugh, Fyodor.

“And you were friendly to him in return,” Ranpo replied. “You could’ve shrugged him off like normal rivals do. But it looked like you were completely enraptured with him.”

Enraptured?! He was completely enraptured with me! However, you couldn’t describe to Ranpo how exactly he was—how the brunette’s eyes pleaded with yours to follow him into the eventide, how he made you feel like the only person that existed in the large crowd of people…maybe Ranpo would have his point proven.

“Well, other than that, I’ve got thee settled in Rome well enough. I’ll be here for the rest of the unwise decisions you’re going to make, but from here on out is on you, princess.”

“Thanks, Ranpo,” you sarcastically replied. “Seriously? Unwise decisions? Rome is just different from everywhere I’ve been to before. I’m learning.”

“Exactly, there are arts of everything,” he said. “Thou better grasp them quick or fall behind.”

Dance.

Deceit.

Dreams.

Only a few you had discovered so far.

“You fascinate me, angel of Florence. You did save me in a way.”

You couldn’t even grasp,

Dazai.

You didn’t know how long you were out. All sense of time was lost when you gained consciousness again, and you realized you had been washed up on land.

Did God stay true to your pleas? Did an angel really come down to rescue you?

That was certainly what it seemed like in the first few seconds because you were blinded by light when you opened your eyes. You heard insects buzzing off in the distance and maybe even a bird chirping as you lay on lush grass. Perhaps you were in heaven instead, and this was your first taste of peaceful paradise.

But all was ruined when your eyes finally focused, and a face obstructed your view. (Why was he always ruining your flawless moments?) He hovered on top of you, and the first thing you became aware of was that his mouth was dangerously close to yours.

You immediately coughed—out of both shock and the need to. Lake water gushed out of your mouth, causing you to sit up without warning. The brunette was flung off of you, landing harshly on his bottom.

“Ow!”

You paid no mind to him as you coughed again. And again.

When all the water was finally out of your lungs, you looked at him in utter confusion.

“Why the puzzled look?” he asked as if he wasn’t the one who was drowning and you weren’t the one saving him (and less importantly, it hadn’t looked like he was about to kiss you).

Now he sat beside you, almost perfectly fine if it weren’t for his clothes that were soaked.

“But…you—we were drowning?” You turned to see if anyone else was in the distance because who was it that saved both of you?

“Yeah, I was drowning,” the man replied, and you now noticed the honey color of his eyes that had been shielded behind closed eyelids and pretty eyelashes earlier. “And this time, it almost worked! Until you decided to rescue me!”

“Um, what?” You asked sharply, even more bewildered at the way he tried to make your efforts sound negative.

“At first, I thought maybe thou were a lovely lady who wanted to commit double suicide with me! But I realized that wasn’t the case when you started fighting to get some air…”

“Are you crazy?” you asked, not caring whether you were speaking impolitely or not. “Double suicide? Why else would I dive into a cold lake to join a stranger? And you were aware of what was happening all along?”

“Maybe! Women have done a lot to try to get close to me.” You didn’t believe him. “And, well, yeah! Obviously, I couldn’t continue because of two things. The first was you because I couldn’t let an innocent involved be harmed along with me! I had to save you, of course.”

You became even more irritated. “You wouldn’t have had to if you didn’t pretend you were drowning! I had to use all my strength to rescue you, y’know! I could’ve died as well!”

“But you didn’t!” the brunette replied. “There was no way I was going to let someone so beautiful drown.”

You scowled at him before you stood up. “You’re ridiculous. What’s your second reason?”

“Drowning in a lake ended up becoming uncomfortable.” You wanted to punch him in the face—uncomfortable was an obvious understatement. “I didn’t like the feeling of suffocation that set in, so I just decided to give up.”

“It didn’t even look like you had any air left in you,” you muttered, facing your back towards him, remembering his placid expression earlier. “How were you conscious if you weren’t even holding your breath?”

“Party trick,” he responded, and when you dared to glance back, he wore a smug grin.

“Oh…are you leaving me then?” he asked as you started walking away, saying no more.

“Why wouldn’t I?” you scoffed, not stopping. “I’m completely soaked, and I don’t know about you, but I have important things to get to.”

You heard a chuckle from him. “Is that so?” he asked. His voice was getting farther, meaning he was no longer following you. “Where are you headed?”

“Rome.”

“I live there. Perhaps we shall meet again. And then, I could ask you—properly—if you would like to commit a double suicide with me.”

“I doubt it,” you replied, assured you were never going to see this man whose face looked kissed by Aphrodite herself again. Perhaps you would’ve found him handsome if he was in a less disheveled state.

As if you did not already.

“Why do you seem so sure? Anything can happen.” He chuckled once again.

Well, I am a painter, and you don’t look like someone who would even have an eye for art, is what you wanted to say. But you didn’t want to open more doors to curiosity and stay there even longer.

“Maybe you’re right,” you stopped. “Okay, then.

“If you think you’re going to see me again, can you promise to not kill yourself until then? Until I agree to you?”

You figured you would just give him some hope so that your efforts to save him would not be in vain. If he would actually keep your word, anyway.

When you turned around, the brunette was still standing on the shore, and he had a smile on his face.

He really did carry the setting sun in his gaze. It was still midday, but the man’s soul seemed to prefer the softer shades of light that appeared just before the cool shades of night.

And you felt his eyes tenderly cupping your face, even though you were feet away from each other. You weren’t sure if you were so lost that you were imagining things—but he looked at you as if he’d known you a hundred lifetimes, longing to touch your soul once again.

“I pinkie promise,” he said.

You thought that finally ended the conversation, but he asked one more thing.

“Your name?” he asked.

“Do you really need it?” It was unlikely, but you didn’t know if he would recognize your name. You didn’t want to risk anyone knowing about this encounter.

“I saved you,” he said. “I almost thought you were done for. You still weren’t breathing when I performed chest compressions, so I had to—”

“Okay, stop right there!” you interrupted, becoming flustered. You didn’t need to hear the rest. You imagined the stranger’s mouth on yours—trying to give you oxygen, of course, but his mouth on yours regardless.

You told him your name. “Don’t bother with yours. I’ll figure it out if we run into each other again.”

His grin was smug. “Fare thee well, mia belladonna.

“Until we meet again.”

…

“You can find anything in the promised land, solnyshka.”

ur man of choice (or both if u’d like) dances with u during the ball if u rb; reblogs are incredibly cherished; they are what support me the most. <3

WE DID ITT !! i hope this was decent, tbh i’m rly nervous HAHA ᡣ𐭩 dazai rly got most of the love here, but i promise there’s waay more to come.

+ check THIS FOR EXTRA INFO/LORE, it’s cool ;) comment on the masterlist to be added to the tagslist !! & ilu if you made it this far, thank you so so much for reading ᰔ

TERMS & DEFINITIONS:

CIOPPA - outermost layer of a dress

RUELLA - salons/social gatherings

ALMAINE - slow court dance; GALLIARD - fast court dance (in the renaissance)

TRANSLATIONS: (not all bcz they wanna be mysterious)

gramercy - “thank you”

artigiani; aristocratici - artisans; aristocrats (italian)

bonam noctem - “good night” (latin)

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panbotter · 7 months ago

Note

Hey so in reference to my previous ask, can you do one were the reader is having trouble controlling their powers (you can decide those) and either Kurt or Erik comfort them after a bad day and end up confessing to the reader. You can ad smut if you want but if not that's totally fine too☺️.

Your Existence is Grand

Erik Lehnsherr x gn!reader

Erik notices you having a rough day with your powers and decides to shower you with praise.

(This is my first fanfic literally ever so feedback appreciated, but also... Sorry for any mistakes!!!!)

Trigger warnings: cursing, suggestive themes (I don't know what else to write here, pls let me know if there's anything else I should add!)

The air around me begins buzzing and crackling, becoming charged with electricity and I sigh, deeply frustrated before I reach for the metal doorknob in front of me and receive a shock so strong that all the muscles in my arm cramp up painfully. I curse under my breath, forcing my arm to bend and stretch the tense muscles as I walk into the lounge, getting a glimpse of the others outside. Some might say I’d been gifted with a particularly powerful mutation, that it made me strong and intimidating. That I am admired for it, as if it’s a blessing to be grateful for.

But in this god-forsaken world, all I could see was a curse that plagued my body. I never bothered to understand the science behind it, as much as others might have tried to explain it to me. Something about the electricity in my body behaving abnormally, affecting the air around me and in turn, other electronics or conductors of electricity, turning me into a walking hazard around power lines, or thunderstorms. Let's not even mention the sheer amount of electrical fires I’ve caused. Sure, it sounds cool. But the reality is basically hell.

One of the ‘best’ parts about my mutation is that it is terribly unstable, especially when you’re constantly surrounded by electricity no matter where you go. Everyone else who charges up some static then touches a piece of metal receives a little sting from a silly little shock. It might be a little funny or perhaps surprising! Maybe it happens when you touch fingers with someone else and you shock each other, what a cute moment!

Try getting fucking electrocuted every single time.

Nowhere near as cute, nor as fun.

Some days are worse than others and the more restless I become, the worse it is for me in the end. But unfortunately, I can’t lay in bed immobile for an entire day to lower the voltage my body is producing, resulting in my current conundrum. Avoiding the rest of the X-Men in order to avoid any potential accidents, especially with Jubilee. Fireworks and a highly-charged mutant body surrounded by a bunch of high-tech only spells out bad news. Luckily, it seems like most of them were outside on the basketball court. That’s what I thought, at least.

“I take it you’re having a bad voltage day?” the voice of none other than Magneto startles me out of my thinking. It’s been more than a few months of him living here with us, but his presence is still unexpected. I had a hard time training the knee-jerk defensive reaction out of my body for the first few days, my body becoming charged up so quickly that I wouldn’t even have the chance to blink before I shot a bolt of electricity at him.

He was quick to show that a little spark didn’t do much to him, given that he was essentially a walking magnetic field.

I turn to him, his large form standing at the entrance to the lounge, “What makes you say that?” I turn back to watch as Scott and Logan start another argument, their voices muffled by the glass.

“The air keeps crackling and I have a hard time believing there’s a storm inside the building” he approaches until he pauses at my side. I chuckle a little, giving a wince once I feel my sore muscles constrict. He turns to watch me.

“Hm, I don’t know, maybe Storm has had enough of those two at each other’s throats” I try to joke but my voice falters, as my heart begins to race again and the sound of the air buzzing around me becomes overwhelming. Tremors begin rippling across my muscles, a mixture of them cramping and relaxing too fast for me to keep up with. Losing the strength in my legs, I stretch a hand out toward the glass in front of me to hold myself up but I miss the glass by a couple inches. Erik’s hands are quick to grab onto my arms before pulling me into his chest, supporting my weight as the crackling noise fills my ears and I let out a pained shout. My body releases a strong burst of electricity, most of it absorbed by Erik’s magnetic field, whilst the rest causes the power in the building to go out. I pant loudly, trying to catch my breath, feeling like my heart might’ve stopped in the middle of that.

The lights flicker around us before the power in the school hums back to life. Erik’s hands are still around me, I realize before beginning to step away, but his hold on me tightens. He pulls me back against his chest and I try to fight back the heat that’s slowly creeping up to my face. This is a bit embarrassing. I’ll admit it, I had grown to like Erik in the time he’d been with us, not to mention I had quite a few run-ins with him before I ever joined the X-Men. He always seemed so… Powerful, he always felt safe to be around. As radical as the Professor may claim he is, he always seemed… Right. You could hear the passion in his voice when he spoke of mutantkind and it made you want to side with him, to be loyal and to follow him to the ends of the Earth.

He had a powerful presence, and as I am now discovering, a powerful touch. One of the very few people who could come near me without fear of being electrocuted. My muscles had begun to twitch in the aftermath of the shock. These are the unfortunate moments where I wish I could be rid of my mutation. I could barely hold myself up and here I was in Erik’s arms.

“You should be resting” his voice was stern, but there was a hint of concern in there. I raise my gaze to meet his, feeling a bit of shame.

“I can’t just lay in bed all day, the world is still turning, there’s things to do…” I muttered.

“Precisely, the world is still turning and it will still continue to turn if you are at rest. You, on the other hand, are not a planet and you need to care for yourself”

I stare into his eyes, feeling them pierce through my soul. He always seemed to be right about everything… I chuckle under my breath as I regain some strength in my legs, straightening back up.

“I’m sure you must be tired of having to run after all of us like a babysitter” I joke as his arms come to rest on my shoulders once I’m stable on my feet.

A glint crosses his eyes, “I do wonder how Charles managed, and then I remember he’s a telepath, so it must’ve been quite easy for him” he replies with a smirk gracing his face that makes me laugh a little.

“He still struggled, you shouldn’t compare yourself to the Professor”

He begins to lead me toward the couch behind us, helping me take a seat before joining me. I still feel a hot streak of shame across my stomach, having him help me. Burdening him.

“Sorry, by the way… You’re right, I should be a little more considerate of others” I mutter.

Erik turns to look at me as I avoid making eye contact, “I don’t believe those were my words…” his hand reaches out toward my chin, gently turning my head to face him, “I only ask of you to rest and care for yourself, forget what the others may think”

I blinked up at him, “The Professor always wanted me to push past my limits, so that I can perhaps get stronger… Control my powers better”

“In a perfect world, you wouldn’t have to restrict your abilities, you could rule this planet with a wave of your hand, what you have is something to be proud of, not ashamed” he places his hand against my cheek and I find myself leaning against his warm touch, “Your mutation is a blessing, not a curse”

I scoff, “Sure doesn’t feel that way, I can’t even live among humans without shutting down an entire city’s power”

“Your powers shouldn’t be hidden, controlled, or restricted for the sake of humanity” he says the word with disdain, “but those are my beliefs, your existence is grand mein liebling”

My heart thumps against my chest loudly at his words. It feels… Intimate. How could he speak such high praise toward me?

“I see you hurt and I watch as you restrain yourself around others, as your mutation basically eats your body alive and it pains me…” his eyes gaze across my face, pausing at my lips before trailing back up to my eyes, “It pains me that you live in a world where you feel you cannot rest, where you feel you must hide the power within you”

“Erik…” I whisper, almost afraid to shatter the moment between us, “What are you… What are you saying…?” I peer into his eyes, seeing something brewing behind his gaze. Could it be possible that he’s… No, there’s no way.

“What do you believe I’m saying?” he whispers softly, leaning in toward me. I jump as a few sparks fly out from where he has his hand on my cheek. I can’t help my eyes dropping to his lips before rising back up to his eyes.

I feel the tension rise and in a desperate attempt to avoid it, I joke, “If I was delusional, I might think you’re trying to confess to me right now” I laugh a little to dispel the tension. His gaze was still just as intense so I failed, but I tried my best.

A smile graced his features, “Yes… Perhaps if you were delusional, you might see that I am actually confessing my feelings for you right now” he says it so casually I almost think he’s playing along with my joke, but as my eyes widen, so does his smile.

“Are you…?” my voice wavers a little. I feel my heart drop, realizing he’s probably joking with me. I turn away from his hand, lightly pushing his chest to put distance between us.

“Is this some sort of joke? Come on, Erik… You know that’s… It’s unrealistic” I mutter, a man like him would never love someone like me, that’s not how it works… Maybe in the movies, or in a fairytale perhaps.

“Mein liebling, perhaps I haven’t been clear enough with you” he wraps his arms around my shoulders and pulls me in close, closer than before, “do you prefer a visual demonstration instead? I can give you that, you only need to ask” he smiles before slowly leaning in, giving me enough time to back out if I wished, but I find myself leaning in, eager to feel his lips against mine.

As soon as our lips locked together, sealed at last, a burst of electric sparks flew out from our lips and I giggled into the kiss. I mean, how ironic is that? I felt real, literal sparks and fireworks from the kiss and it made my lips tingly. Erik smiles into the kiss before deepening it, his hand rising up toward my hair while the other trailed down my back and I found myself desperate to be closer to him, wrapping my arms around his neck, clumsily climbing over to sit on his lap. We part right as I begin losing my breath and he trails a burning, tingly trail of kisses down my jaw before he stops by my ear.

With a whisper that blew across the nape of my neck, “I see more than just greatness in you, so much more…” The words are charged with intention, passion, and sincerity. I shudder as the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and I bite back a moan as he continues kissing down my neck. I take a sharp breath in as he begins sucking on a tender spot before I suddenly realize what we’re doing…

Where we’re doing it.

I turn slightly to peek at the windows, making sure the others are still thoroughly distracted with playing before I feel Erik bite my skin and a moan breaks out, “Wait! Erik… We’re… In the lounge…”

He lifts his head, and the dark look in his blue eyes makes me clench my legs in anticipation, “We’ll just have to be fast… And quiet… Can you do that?” He taunts me with a question I don’t even get the chance to answer before he lays me down on the couch, climbing over me, “I’m just helping you relax, that’s not a sin, is it?” He looks down at me with a hungry gaze and I feel my cheeks burn.

“I guess not”

“Show me what else you can do with these sparks of yours”

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a-write-for-soreeyes · 1 year ago

Text

Yes, Chef [OPLA Sanji x Afab!Reader SMUT]

Pairing : OPLA Sanji x Chef (AFAB) Reader

Summary : Sanji is the only one you call 'Chef'. One night when you're the only ones working the late shift he finally confronts you about why.

Warnings : 18+ !!!!!!, NSFW/SMUT, Semi-public sex (kitchen), Oral (fem receiving), some slight dirty talk?, the apron stays ON during foreplay, Use of the term 'Chef' in a sexual way, Top!Sanji, Bottom!Reader

Word Count : 3685 (good lord)

A/N : I have never written smut before but I think this went really well! I had one quote (that quote from Fleabag the hot priest says) and a dream (sanji brain rot and my sexy playlist), so please feel free to leave your thoughts! <3

“y/n I think we’ve known each other long enough you can stop calling me ‘Chef’.”

“Yes, Chef I know” You said, carefully placing the garnish on the plate of steak and seared vegetables at your station. It was the last call of the night and of course a group had walked in right as you and Sanji had finished clearing your stations for the night.

Placing the final plate on the counter you hit the bell, one of the servers came through the doors to the kitchen grabbing the plate and turning on their heel pushing through back to the rowdy group of pirates in the dining room. Turning back to your station and beginning to stack your pots and pans, placing the used utensils inside the pot and carrying them over to the sink, ready to re-wash them.

A comfortable quiet had washed over the kitchen, only broken by the boisterous chatter from the last table of the night. “You can head out if you’d like. I’m going to put together a new dessert I’ve been practicing for these gentlemen, hopefully get them to tip better after coming in right before closing.” Sanji had called from across the kitchen while grabbing ingredients from the pantry.

“Chef, if you don’t like my company you can just say and I’ll get out of your hair.” You joked,

“Ay don’t you ever say that gorgeous, you know I love your company,” Sanji flirted pausing next to you, “Someone with good looks and good conversation, how could I not want you around?” He winked, continuing his stride back to his station.

“I think I’ll stick around once I’m done with these if it’s all the same to you, Chef. You know how much I love to taste whatever new recipes you put together.” You replied with a smile. You really did enjoy being able to be the first person to taste all of Sanji’s cooking, and you suppose being the only person in the kitchen late at night, with your criminally good looking coworker wasn’t so bad either. Rolling up your sleeves and plunging your hands into the warm water of the sink you began to scrub at your dishes.

You scrubbed in silence for a few moments, washing the grime and the stress of the day away. “Really y/n, you can go home I really don’t mind,” Sanji walked next to you leaning his side against the counter stacked high with plates and cups that would need to be washed during tomorrows slow hours, “You’ve already stayed late enough, just finish up your dishes and turn in for the night.” Out of the corner of your eye you could see him looking over your face,

“It’s fine, Chef you know I would probably be awake anyw-” Your sentence and scrubbing stopped as Sanji reached forwards wiping a smear of some ingredient from your cheek, letting his thumb linger on your cheek for just a moment, your face heating at the intimacy of the moment.

“Sorry love,” He said, pulling his hand away from your face and placing it back on the counter next to you, “Couldn’t focus on your beautiful face with something covering it.”

This has always been the game between the two of you. When you had joined the Baratie’ crew almost 3 years ago, Sanji had started working his charm on you from day one, flustering you everytime causing you to always avoid his flirtatious gaze. Although it had taken you about two months to get comfortable with the pleasure he takes in flirting with you, (leaving you mildly excited each time he had thrown a nickname your way) the day that you did start flirting back was possibly the best day of Sanji’ life, (although he wouldn’t be admitting that to anyone anytime soon) and possibly the worst of yours. The embarrassment you felt every time you gave a flirtatious response, effectively causing you to never have the guts to look him in the eyes.

And although his flirting was nothing new, something about being the only people in the quiet kitchen after a busy Friday night, had the soft way Sanji was speaking to you to have a new feeling behind it.

“Sanji, I’m fine really. I’ll finish these up and then I want to taste whatever you’re supposed to be cooking over there, for our lovely guests.” You softly broke the tension, not looking up at him from the murky water. Sanji chuckled and pushed off the counter, making his way back to his abandoned pastry mix. Resuming your washing the both of you working contently in each other's presence.

—-

Placing the last of your now clean dishes back at your station and wiping your hands on the towel you always had draped over the string of your apron. Slugging your way over to Sanji's station, you hiked yourself up onto the counter next to him, huffing out a quiet “Whatever you’ve got baking smells amazing Chef. I can’t wait to taste whatever it is.”

Sanji chuckled, continuing to whisk whatever he was whipping up for a “quick dessert”.

“They’re strawberry macarons, with an easy butterscotch drizzle on top.”

“Ah yes Chef, a very simple dessert, definitely not a complicated pastry that can take years to master.” Laughing, Sanji put down the bowl and grabbed his dish towel, turning towards the oven behind him, taking hold of the hot baking sheet in his covered hand. Turning back to you he gently swatted your side, placing the hot tray down where you had been sitting.

“For your information the pastry is not the hard part for me. It’s the filling that always gets me.”, Using his one hand to pull the macaron shells up from the pan, Sanji stuck his finger in the bowl on his right swiping up some of the filling he had been whipping up on his finger, and held it out to you, “Here give this a try, I know it’s missing something I just can’t quite place it.”

Seeing Sanji hold his finger out, covered in the pink buttercream filling, you made the conscious decision that this was going to be your winning move in this game of cat and mouse you and him had been playing for the past years. You leaned forwards and wrapped your mouth around his finger, the taste of the sweet icing flowing over your tongue. Swirling your tongue around his finger to get the last of the filling off of his digit.

“It’s good. Could maybe use a little more powdered sugar, get it to thicken up a bit more.” You shrugged.

Sanji was silent. Not even a flirtatious remark about how ‘you’re all the sugar I need sugar’ just silence. Looking at Sanji directly (for possibly the first time in months) you were shocked at the way he was looking at you. So gently, so full of love and something else you couldn’t quite place. Surprise? Uncomfortability? You weren’t sure, only assuming the worst, regret flooded your body immediately. Sanji opened his mouth to speak but you beat him to it, hanging your head,

“I-I’m so sorry Chef, I-I don’t know what I was thinking, I guess I just thought it would be funny considering how much we fake flirt with each other, but I’m now realizing that that was WILDLY inappropriate especially to someone who is a much better chef than I am- I’m so so sorry Chef-”

“Ah, fuck you calling me “Chef” like it doesn’t turn you on just to say it.” Your head snapped up to look him directly in the eyes.

“Wha-what?”

“You heard what I said.” He smirked at you, blond hair falling in front of his left eye, “The way you say it any moment you possibly can, ‘yes Chef’, ‘I’m sorry Chef’, ‘Of course I can Chef’. You think I haven’t noticed how I’m the only one you call that?” Sanji stalking around the counter, placed one hand on the counter at either side of you.

He leaned into you, his hot breath fanning over your neck, “Everytime you say that stupid fucking title,you know what it does to me. What it makes me think of.”

Shivering at the feeling of his breath you turned your face towards him, “And what does it make you think of, Chef?” A low rumble reverberated from Sanji’ chest, now pressing up close to you.

Sanji tilted his head, lips just barely ghosting over yours, “Would you like me to show you?” You gave an embarrassed nod.

His lips were soft against yours, tasting of cigarettes and the mint he used to try and cover the previous. Pushing himself up against you, you could feel your underwear beginning to slick. Teeth clashing together you ran your hand up Sanji’ back, neck and up into his blonde hair. One of his own hands wrapping around your waist, the other sliding up the front of your apron and giving your breast a soft squeeze. You gasped, and fast as lightning Sanji slipped his tongue into your mouth exploring it with a small groan at the feeling.

Using the heated kiss as a distraction Sanji began to unbutton your uniform, pausing every few buttons to bring his hands up to your face, deepening your make out before going back to his main mission of releasing you from your shirt.

Finally undoing the final button of your uniform Sanji reached into your shirt with one hand swiping over your tit, causing it to harden under his calloused hand, even with the fabric of your bra separating them. Although Sanji made quick work of that issue, easily reaching around you and unclasping the irritating bra pulling it down under your breasts, allowing them to bounce slightly with the force of your making out. Removing his other hand from your waist Sanji roughly cupped your breasts in his hands bringing them out from behind your apron. Squeezing them with his large hands, your apron roughly scraping against the soft flesh, you moaned into the unstopping kisses. Hiking you up onto the edge of the counter Sanji gave himself better access to your chest, leaning down to your right tit and taking it into his mouth, tongue swirling around the nipple, leaving kisses, nips and hickies all around. His left hand grasping at your other tit Sanji pinches at the bud for a few moments before switching. Moans leaving your mouth, you bit your lip nearly drawing blood, as you used one hand to pull his head closer into your chest, the other pulling off his ascot, apron and starting on the snap buttons of his uniform.

“Please, Chef please.” You whimpered, beginning to roll your hips on him, the feeling of his warm mouth on your chest with no friction on your lower parts starting to take its toll on you. Feeling Sanji groan and roll against the counter he pulled back looking at you, hair a mess, eyes glazed over in arousal he ripped the apron and top from off your body, bra following immediately after. During the moment of separation you ripped his now crumpled shirt off, tossing it somewhere in the kitchen out of your vision, which was now focused solely on taking in Sanji’ gorgeous figure.

Grabbing his face and pulling him towards you hungerly you continued to make out. Sanji began to press his body against yours reaching behind your figure to swipe the forgotten baking sheet off the counter creating room for him to be able to push you back into a lying position, the heat of the counter where the hot pans of pastries had just been only seconds earlier caused you to let out a gasp, arching your back to get away from the heat pressing your breasts right into Sanji’s hard chest, his hand going behind you to pull your torso as close to him as possible.

Pulling back from the kiss, Sanji gently laid you down fully on the counter. Running his hands down your sides he began to kiss his way down your body stopping to leave small nips around your chest and hips. Pulling away Sanji started work on your belt, unbuckling it and immediately going for your buttons. You begin to fuss at the feeling of his hands being so close to where you need him but he has yet to touch you.

“I know love, don't worry, I’m gonna make you feel so good.” he whispered out, pressing a kiss to your thigh as he finally slid your pants off, leaving you in just your panties. Groaning at the sight of you trying to hump the air to get any friction to quell the desire you feel, Sanji brought a finger up to your covered mound, gently ghosting it along causing you to let a loud whimper escape from your lips. “Darling you’re soaked. If I didn’t know any better I’d think you want me to make you feel good?”

Gripping the edges of the counter whimpered “Yes. Yes yes please Chef, please make me feel good.”

Sanji smirked up at you, already fidgeting and he hasn’t even started yet. “Well, when you put it like that. I guess I have no choice.” He pulled your panties down grabbing them in one hand and used the other to grasp your hip bringing your soaked pussy right to him, immediately beginning his assault, licking up your folds and once he reached the top starting to suck on your clit, swirling his tongue around the small bud. Your hand shot down for Sanji’ bleach blond hair, fisting it and using it to pull him right into you, wrapping your legs around his head when he stuck his tongue right into your pussy.

“Oh fuck! Yes, god please!” You moaned, at the sound of your moans and whimpers Sanji could feel the tent in his pants straining, he beginning to slightly hump at the air, getting pleasure from just the motions he made.

Feeling the knot begin to form in your stomach you started to pant and hump his face faster. Sanji getting the message stopped tongue fucking you to resume sucking on your clit bringing his right hand down to your entrance sticking 2 fingers in you easily between the slick and spit that had been pooling there. The pleasure assaulting your senses caused you to lurch forwards, nails scraping against Sanji's scalp causing him to moan against you.

Between the feeling of Sanji sucking on your clit, his fingers rapidly pushing in and out of you and the vibrations of the moans he was letting out you felt the knot in your stomach snap, shaking your felt yourself release all over his face, practically screaming out into the echoes of the kitchen,

“Yes, yes fuck, yes Chef! Fuck!” When the feeling of your first orgasm of the night finished and your clit started to become overstimulated you leant back against your arm, releasing your hold on Sanji's hair to run one hand through it and tried to pull yourself away from his mouth still licking up your wetness and kissing around your nub.

“Uhh, Chef- Chef please too- too much” Pulling himself off of you Sanji leant back on his heels, a string of spit and cum connecting him to you. You took a moment to admire him as he caught his breath. He looked beautiful, face covered in your cum with strings of it and drool connecting the two of you, hair sticking in all directions from your harsh pulling and his eyes, god his eyes he had a look in them you’d only ever hoped to see, he was so drunk on your pussy you’re not even sure he knew where the two of you were right now.

Grabbing his right wrist from where his fingers were still brushing against your pussy lips you pulled him up to you, locking your lips in another kiss, this one much more gentle and soft than the previous rough make out you had. Pushing your tongue into his mouth you could taste yourself on his tongue, occasionally kissing around his mouth and along his jawline to collect more of your slick from his face. Sanji let out a gasp as you kissed up his jaw and to his ear, giving it a slight nip before whispering to him, “You made me feel so good Chef. I wanna do the same for you.”

Standing to his full height Sanji started to work on his belt, hands shaking in anticipation at finally being able to feel you around him. You started work on the button on his bottoms, purposely brushing your hand against his erection feeling it twitch at every touch you gave him. Reaching your hands up to his waistband Sanji pulled down his pants and underwear in one swoop as he stepped out of the pool of fabric now at his feet. Cradling your face in his large hands Sanji ran his thumb down your cheekbone and swiped it over your lips.

"I wanna make you feel good, let me make you feel good.”, You looked up at him with half lidded eyes, your hand lazily wrapping around his hard-on, stroking him and running your thumb over his head using the precum that had begun to bead there as lube for your lazy motions. “Please Chef.” You felt his cock twitch at the title and his breathing hitch.

“We can feel good together love. Just let me take care of you this time.” At that Sanji guided you back to your lying position against the now cold countertop of his work station. Taking a moment to admire you splayed out before him Sanji ran his hands down the backs of your thighs pushing them up to give himself access to your wet cunt.

Rubbing the head of his cock against your folds he collected some of your slick before he watched his cock disappear into you. A growl coming from him as he felt you tighten around his shaft.

Keening at the feeling of yourself stretching around him, your eyes rolling back as he pushed further finally bottoming out. Sanji paused allowing you a chance to adjust to his size he could feel you tighten around him.

Slowly, he began to pull almost all the way out of you before rocking back in, the both of you groaning at the feeling. Sanji looked up at your face, eyes almost completely closed and mouth open gasping in pleasure. He reached forwards grasping your soft hand in his own rough one giving something for you to ground yourself on through the pleasure.

“Chef please-!” you whimpered at the feeling of his thrusts starting to pick up speed.

“Fuck love, you feel so good squeezing around me.” Sanji groaned into your ear, leaving sloppy kisses around your jaw and down your neck, his cock burying into you at a rapid pace.

Your moans and huffs at the overwhelming feelings you were experiencing getting louder with each thrust, to the point you were almost crying out in pleasure. Sanji captured your lips again roughly making out with you in an attempt to quiet you, although between your moans and the squelch of his cock pistoning in and out of you it was nearly impossible to do so.

Sanji could feel his high approaching with each thrust, “I-I’m close, fuck darling you feel so good-” he sighed pressing your foreheads together.

“I-I’m so close, please Chef. Please let me cum please!” You blubbered against his lips, tears beginning to form and run down your cheeks, you could feel every inch of him in you, stretching you, pressing against every part of you, his head kissing your cervix.

“Just a little more baby, just give me a little more.” Pounding into your cunt, slick running down both of you, you wrapped your legs around his back pulling him impossibly closer, the hand that was resting coming down to rub furiously at your clit, “come for me love, come all over my cock.” Your mouth opened in a silent scream as you felt yourself release all over his cock, your pussy clamping down, you cried out,

“Fuck! Chef!”

At the feeling of you cumming around him Sanji knew he just needed a few more before he to came undone, or- “Fuck Sanji!” your eyes rolling back, and that was his breaking point. At the sound of you crying out his name, his real name for the first time since you’ve met, not some title he’d heard a thousand times before, Sanji came. Ropes of his cum painting your insides with his release he shuttered, his vision blanking at the overwhelming bliss he was experiencing from cumming inside you for the first time.

The air between you two hot and heavy as you both stayed still just enjoying the intimacy of the moment. Sanji gave a few final sluggish thrusts to help you both ride the end of your pleasures before the feeling became too much. He pulled out gently being sure not to overwhelm you, the sound of your mixed cum quietly dripping from you both onto the tiled floor beneath him.

Basking in the afterglow of the scene, foreheads pressed together you tilted your head up locking your lips in a tender kiss. Bringing your hand that was not clasped in Sanji's up to caress his face, taking in the way the soft light reflected off his glistening forehead and the beads of sweat that dripped from his disheveled hair down the curves and lines of his face.

“You’re beautiful.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m the one who’s supposed to say that to you, Love.” He chuckled, allowing the seriousness of the moment to fade away into comfortable giggles. “I love you.” He breathed out, gazing at you, trying to memorize everything about you in this moment, from how your messy hair splayed out behind you to the dried tear tracks down your face. Looking back into his blue eyes,

“I love you Sanji.”

--------------------------------

#sanji x reader smut #opla sanji x reader #sanji x reader #opla sanji x reader smut #smut #opla sanji #one piece live action #one piece netflix

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melobin · 9 months ago

Text

behind the screen 𐙚 sungchan smau #20

✧ camgirl reader x roommate sungchan

✧ synopsis. in which sungchan discovers his favorite camgirl also happens to be his roommate

✧ wc. 4k

✧ chapter warnings. smut, protected sex, oral (f receiving)

behind the screen masterlist

you gulped as you looked at sungchan, his eyes were still wide as he looked back at you.

“did you follow me here?” sungchan shook his head erratically before finally looking into your eyes.

“i was invited here” he speaks, almost breaking eye contact immediately as you stepped back to let him into the room. once he was stood inside you closed the door, leaning your back against it. you watched him carefully before speaking again, voice shaking slightly.

“by merci?”

“yeah” he hadn’t said much and that terrified you more, you couldn’t know what sungchan was thinking in that moment, he looked as if he had seen a ghost “merci invited chan” your heart dropped again at the name “i’m guessing you’ve been merci this whole time?”

“and you’re chan?” he nodded and watched as you walked over to sit on the edge of the bed, you looked up at him “did you know about me?”

“i didn’t”

“you didn’t see any resemblance? my bedroom? my clothes? me?” your questions were baseless, you changed your sheets especially for the steams, you always done your own washing so he never would’ve seen your underwear and you never once showed your face. yet you didn’t expect out of the thousands of people who followed you on twitter that sungchan would be one of them, let alone someone you spoke to.

“i have never seen the bedsheets you stream with on your bed before”

“i change them” he nodded, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room “you don’t have to be awkward, you can sit down i think we need to talk about this” he nodded before he sat next to you on the edge of the bed, letting you sit a little further up the bed with your legs crossed before you looked at him.

you looked down at your hands as silence filled the room, there was a sense of dread around the two of you as you both came to terms with the situation you had gotten yourselves into. speaking to each other unknowingly was one thing but in the manner the two of you were, in such an intense and sexual way, it left you both unable to correlate any thoughts.

“look if this is too awkward or too much for you i can leave, you can block me i can find a new apartment to stay in for a while” his voice seemed frantic.

“you don’t have to do any of that” you sighed as you looked up at him “sungchan it’s okay, it’s just weird knowing you were chan this whole time”

“it’s weird for me too, i’ve watched merci for months i can’t explain how fucked up this is in my head that you’ve been her this whole time” you tilted your head to the side, questioning his words “not in a bad way, it’s just surprising” you nodded before sighing.

“did i at least help you get over your feelings for somi?” sungchan unintentionally let out a laugh at your question, narrowing his eyes at you.

“somi? i haven’t had feelings for somi for months, what makes you say that?”

“you said you needed to get over your feelings for someone” sungchan’s eyes widened at your words, he panicked for a moment as he remembers what he said. he was somewhat glad you never realised his feelings were for you, he found it almost humorous that he unintentionally used you to get rid of the feelings he already had lingering for you.

“you said the same thing, so who were yours for?

“sungchan” your voice lingered off a little, somewhat quieter than it was before. given the situation you were in, you knew there was a fair chance you two were never going to talk about this again and you’d both push it into the past and try to forget about it, so what would be so bad about being completely honest about everything now?

sungchans eyes watched you carefully as you leaned back against the headboard and played with your fingers, you tried to maintain eye contact as you spoke to him but it was difficult, no part of you knew how confessing your feelings to him would go, especially with the situation you were in now.

“i had feelings for you”

“what?”

“yeah, it was you” his reaction was unreadable as he processed your words “i knew nothing would come from it, you were already in a relationship by the time we became roommates and i also knew how bad of an idea because we lived together and i didn’t want to make things awkward but” you gestured to the room around you “i don’t think anything can come out that’s more surprising than this”

“y/n you’re so fucking dumb” he put his head in his hands and groaned, you couldn’t stop the slight pang in your heart that came as a consequence of his words. neither of you spoke for a few seconds before he lifted his head and looked at you “i had feelings for you, i have feelings for you”

“we used each other to get over each other “ you laughed a little as you said it out loud, unsure of how to adjust to the realisation “did you mean everything you said?” he looked at you, unsure of what you meant “i mean, did you mean everything you said to merci”

“i never lied to you, or to merci”

“do you feel any different now you’re here and you know it’s me?”

“it feels different because it’s you” he sighed before turning to face you properly “i knew i’d come here and see the pretty face i’ve been speaking to for weeks but now i know it’s you i don’t know how to feel. i still stand by everything i’ve said to you but it’s harder now i know it is you” you understood what he meant, it was different knowing who chan really was, but it didn’t change anything you had said to him over the past few weeks.

you almost hated yourself for thinking so crudely but you wanted him, every lust filled word he said to you has stuck with you. you had both came with the impression you’d end up having sex, so was it really all that bad to still want that? you didn’t think so. sungchan didn’t either. the man had dreamed about you countless times in the past, fantasising about you multiple times whilst his hand was wrapped around his cock. he wasn’t proud of the thoughts he had about you and merci was his escape from them, but now he knew you were merci his head was on fire.

it became noticeable to the both of you that the air in the room was changing, it became suffocating, need surrounded the two of you. both of you seemed hesitant to act on your feelings, but you knew one of you had to make the first move.

“you meant absolutely everything you said?” he nodded “even the other things?” the sexual things. sungchan sucked in a breath as he looked at you, eyes falling down the skin of your arms.

“i’ve been watching your streams for months, i wanted to fuck merci so bad but y/n i wanted you so much more fuck” his cursing caused your clit to throb “it’s ironic to think i got off to both the thought of you and merci when you’re the same person”

“you want me that bad?”

“so bad” there was a hint of desperation in his voice, you could tell he meant what he was saying.

“why don’t we save the important conversations for when we’re home, yeah? i booked out the room for the night and i wouldn’t want to waste it” it took sungchan a few moments to process your words, he didn’t move an inch until he was sure what you wanted, him.

he moved, his hands pressing into the pillow as your body moved down so your head could rest between them. he kept his eyes on yours as he looked down at you, only breaking the stare to lean closer to your lips. the first press of his lips to yours was gentle, it felt as if he was testing the waters to how you would respond to him.

you felt your body sink into the mattress as he kissed you, your lips responding to his for a brief moment before he pulled away. it only took a few seconds for him to kiss you again, this time joining your lips together in a deeper kiss. it didn’t take long for your hands to lace themselves behind his neck and pull him closer to you.

the kiss was intense, you could feel the yearning that was laced in it. both of you had seemingly waited ages to finally feel the other against you and the feeling of it didn’t disappoint from what you had been imagining for months. it was difficult for either of you to break the kiss, not wanting to leave eachother but you knew you had to eventually.

“did you bring condoms?”

“yeah” he breathed out.

“then please fuck me sungchan”

“god” he groaned, feeling your legs wrap around his waist and pull him directly against you. sungchan was sure he could feel the heat radiating off of you through your trousers, he wanted nothing more than to rip them open and stuff you full of his cock then and there. but he knew he had to be patient.

his fingers pushed under your shirt, slowly peeling the fabric off of your body before dropping it to the floor, he made quick work of pulling your bra down so he could access your tits. his lips wrapped around your nipple immediately, tongue swirling around the hardening bud as your fingers found his hair.

sungchan knew what he wanted as he heard you whined, his tongue running over your nipple as you arched your back up. your skin tasted sweet under his tongue, it made him want to taste more of you, sungchan wanted to lick up every inch of you and feel you melt against his tongue, he needed to savour your sweetest so he could remember it forever.

his lips left your skin as he lifted his head to look at you, his dark hair gently fell in front of his eyes as you watched him. sungchans fingers dug into the skin of your hips as he spoke to you, his words ran sparks through your body.

“i want to eat you out” you whimpered as he spoke.

“channie please, i can’t wait i need you to fuck me” he groaned as he lowered his head again, lips pressing against yours in an open mouthed kiss. his head span as he felt your tongue press against his, he only parted your lips when he wanted to speak again.

“please” he sounded desperate “just a little taste” he whined before kissing you again.

“just a little” you caved, hearing sungchan beg to eat you out made it impossible for you to deny him.

he broke the kiss to kneel up between your legs, he rid himself of his shirt before hooking his fingers under the waistband of your trousers. you let your eyes linger on his torso for a short while, his abs flexed as he leaned over your body to drop your trousers to the floor, arms flexing as he pressed his fingers over your panties to feel your heat. he hissed when he felt how wet you were, how you were already soaking through the material onto his hand. sungchan couldn’t put into words just how badly he craved to taste you on his tongue, the boy was desperate to feel your cunt melt against his tongue.

he leaned down, arms hooking under your thighs to stable yourself properly under him. his mouth watered as he pressed a kiss against the fabric of your panties, he groaned as he felt your slick against his tongue, he felt himself desperate to properly feel your cunt against him.

he pushes your underwear to the side, paying no mind to the way the fabric grazed his skin as he poked his tongue out to lick at your clit, he groaned the moment he felt you directly against his tongue, diving himself in deeper when he felt your hands pull at his hair and heard you whimper at the feeling.

sungchan wanted nothing more than to eat you out as if you were his last meal, he wanted every man who’s ever been near you to feel pathetic when you compare him to them, he wanted to be your every last thought because of how good he made you feel. he was determined about it.

“channie” your voice broke him as he wrapped his lips around your clit, you sounded so sweet, so vulnerable, he wanted to ruin every inch of you and hear more of your broken whines.

your fingers tightened their grip on his hair, his fingers dug deeper into the skin of your thighs as he kept his lips around your clit, tongue flicking over the bud as he savoured the flavour of you.

“you’re so sweet” he groaned when he released your clit, his fingers inched their way to your core as he pressed a wet, open mouthed kiss against the skin of your inner thigh.

his patience grew thin as he wrapped his fingers around your underwear and tore it off of you, the thin fabric ripping and being discarded onto the floor, his fingers then pushed into your sickened slit, he watched your facial expressions change as he circled the pads of them around your swollen clit. he watched as your lips parted and you whined out, desperate to feel more.

“i want you so bad” your voice was hoarse, weak as you began to beg for him “i need you”

“whatever you want, angel” he knelt up, leaning over your body to kiss you again whilst he pressed a finger into your sopping hole, letting it swallow and suck him in as he pushed it deeper. you whimpered against his lips as he added another finger, your cunt clenching around them as he curled them inside of you. everything about sungchan drove you crazy and all you could do is yearn for more.

“i really need to feel you” you broke the kiss to talk to him, he hummed at the way you moaned out your words, his cock throbbing in his jeans as you begged for him.

sungchan was quick to get off of the bed, fetching the condoms out of his pocket and throwing them onto the bed before ridding himself of his jeans and briefs. you found one of the condoms, opening the packet and discarding it onto the night stand as sungchan made his way between your legs, kneeling up between them and resting his cock against your stomach. you almost whimpered at the sight of it, red, swollen, leaking onto your skin, it felt heavy against you and even heavier in your hand as you rolled the condom onto him. he looked down at you, hand holding your cheek with his thumb running over your bottom lip.

“you’re so pretty” you nuzzled your face into his hand, squeezing your own around his cock as he kept eye contact with you, lips parted so he could let out a gasp at the feeling.

the moment felt intimate, too intimate to be something shared between a camgirl and a boy who watched her, far too intimate for two people who were meant to be roommates and nothing more.

pushing the thought out of your mind for the time being, you watched as sungchan pushed your legs a little further apart and replaced your hand that was wrapped around his cock with his own. the head of his cock pressed against your clit, he pushed it down your slit and put a slight bit of pressure against your entrance. you whimpered as you felt yourself begin to stretch and adapt around his size.

sungchan was bigger than anyone you’d been with before and he knew that from what you’d shared through merci, he knew you’d struggle to take him and sungchan couldn’t help but love that thought.

he kept his eyes on yours as he eased himself inside of you, silently reassuring you that it’s okay as his hand laced through yours. your lips parted in a silent moan as his cock stretched you out, your hand squeezed his as he pushed himself deeper into you.

“does it feel okay?” his voice was gentle as he spoke to you, his hips stilled as you clenched around him. you nodded at his question, swallowing before weakly talking back to him.

“you’re so big” your eyes watered as he pressed the rest of his cock inside of you, sungchan was almost overwhelmed at how well you’d take him and how tight your pussy was around him.

“i know baby, it’s okay” his thumb rubbed over the back of your hand as he stopped moving “i won't move until you’re ready” you nodded at him, weakly telling him that you needed him to move.

“please, i need you” sungchan dropped his hands to your thighs, his hips moving backwards before he gently thrusted forward, cock filling you up swiftly. you moaned as he continued his pace, being sure to go slow enough for you to be able to properly adjust to his size without overwhelming you.

he could tell you were enjoying it, he could see the way you had your fists clenched into the bedsheets and how your eyes shut, back arching into each of his thrusts. he sped up, being sure to push himself deeper into you, angling himself until he was sure his cock was pressing against your sweet spot. you moaned the same with you did on your streams yet you were louder, you fell apart even prettier around his cock than you ever did with your pathetic toys. sungchan believed he was on the way to becoming your newest toy and he loved the idea of that. wanting nothing more than to be the thing that gives you the most amount of pleasure possible.

you were falling apart at a rapid pace as he fucked you, he grabbed your thigh to lift your leg up, letting your ankle hand over his shoulder as he pushed deeper into you, hands wrapped around your thigh as he held his against his stomach. sungchan wanted to fuck you until you were a wreck and he was already half way there. when you opened your eyes you were met with a beautiful sight, his fingers digging into your thigh, his body glistening in a light coat of sweat and his eyes focused on the way your cunt took his cock, how your lips gripped him and pulled him back in each time he pulled out of you.

with the way you were reacting to him, sungchan lacked the self control to not cum the moment he was close and he was dreading it as the feeling crept up on him, he prayed you were as close to breaking as he was as he pushed his thumb against your clit. he focused on you as your squirmed and moaned louder, begging for him not to stop. his pace was smooth, he kept up with his thrusts, staying consistent each time he pushed into you. you were losing your sanity with each thrust he made into you.

“im so close channie”

“im right behind you angel” he groaned, leaning over you once more so he could kiss you. his hands balled into fist beside your head as he moaned against your lips, chasing both his and your own orgasm as he continued to fuck you. the moment he felt his high hit he dropped his hand back down to your clit, wanting to feel you squeezing him and finishing around him as he filled the condom with his cum.

it took the two of you a while to calm down from your highs, ending up with sungchan laying on his back and you with your head rested against his chest.

“sungchan” your lifted your head up to look down at him. he was pretty, too pretty. his hair a mess, his lips swollen, his cheeks flushed, you felt your heart skip as you admired him.

“what is it?” his voice was soft as he spoke back to you.

“we need to talk about everything” he shook his head and guided you back down to lay against him, his arms wrapping around you once again. you felt his lips press against your head as he hummed against you.

“we will, when we’re home tomorrow, let’s just have this for now” you listened to him, letting yourself drift off to the sound of his heartbeat and his gentle finger tips against your skin.

the next morning seemed to breeze by, there wasn’t much interaction between the two of you other than his fingers tracing patterns against your arm and your head against his chest, yet you had a time you had to check out by and as unwilling as you both were, you knew you had to leave and go back into the real world.

“sungchan?” he turned around before he could open the door so he could look at you.

“are you okay?” you nodded and took a step closer to him, your hands shaking a little as they wrapped around his arm.

“once we leave this room we have to go home and have a really serious conversation about all of this and i’m scared about how it will turn out” you took a deep breath as he began to respond.

“it’ll be okay, love” his hand sat over yours, thumb rubbing over the back of it “no matter how it ends up i won’t be letting go of you, even if that means we stay as just friends” you nodded and he smiled at you, beginning to turn around before you stopped him again, he looked down at you, slightly confused as your placed your hands on his shoulders and stood on your tiptoes. you leaned forward and kissed him, lips pressing against his softly as his arms immediately wrapped around your waist. he pulled your body against his, the kiss deepening quickly before he pulled away and smiled down at you, eyes flicking from your eyes to your lips as he kissed you again.

“lets go home” he dragged his hand from your waist to your hand to intertwine your fingers through his before he opened the door, letting you follow slowly at your own pace as his thumb ran across your hand again, silently telling you everything will be okay.

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tag list. @midmourn @svnghan @strayghibli @minnieslover @shortnstupid @palchokitty y @ilovechanhee @hikict @wccycc @revehosh @teddywook @hoonieq @glaieuls @kvstjwonnie e @starrypen @thinkabt-vivi @kyusqult @nanascupid @professsionalsimp @beomgri @xenkimmie @dinosluver @jaehmarks @hellonikitty @wolfiecaro @luvyujun @rosesfortaro @zhangyixingxing1 1 @hrts4tyun @forrds @mamathefifth @wonbinkisser @alwayswook @boogyu @haohoonz @wheatrice @cvpidxo @soobsfairy444 @nadrs @wonbinfiles @tsumusakusa @chichiuu @bbgmingyu @outrologist t @lilriswife4life @https-yeonjunnjun n @emoseob @riizenextdoor @h3lluh @shiannprincess101 @lavscene e @iselltulips @w0nslvr @vernonburger r @boopdidoo @planethyuka @joshuawifey @dearmyouth h @bludzk1llzyuzu @blvm1ng @reenfluffmarshmallow @jnkthy @luh @au-ghosttype @kaykay11sworld

#✧ melody posts #✧ behind the screen #sungchan smut #riize smut #riize sungchan smut #sungchan smau #riize smau #riize sungchan smau

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xxblairexxss · 1 year ago

Text

Pastries

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x reader

Theme : Angst / Fluff

I got carried away and it might be too long for your liking sorry about that! Not proofread!

Charles had asked you to tag along for his interview. It was a casual one. Even the whole set up looked less kind of a formal one and more like a hang-out amongst friends kinda vibe. He had promised to take you out to try the new bakery that had just opened this month and took over the social media the next second they started receiving customers but the invitation for the interview came in last minute and his team had already accepted the offer before asking him since they thought it shouldn’t be a problem considering the fact that he’s on a break.

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“What about the bakery? You promised me last week we could go there…” You hated to be the kind of person but Charles had promised you that he would leave out all work related stuffs and became your full time boyfriend for the weekend but all your hopes were crushed when he told you about his last minute schedule. You had been looking forward to try the pastries you had seen on your tiktok, the pastries videos that you kept on sending to Charles so you knew which one to choose when you visited the bakery.

“I know, baby. The team told me last minute so I couldn’t say no.”

“Then can we go after the interview?” You had been laying on his chest, your legs all tangled up with his while you had the new episode of Black Mirror playing on the screen. Now that you knew you won’t be able to spend time with him this weekend, the new episode was no longer worth watching.

“I can’t. I got another thing coming right after the interview, baby.” Charles knew you would be sad when he told you about his schedule because he had already promised you and though he couldn’t see your face, you didn’t look up to see his face after he mentioned about the interview, he knew you were upset.

“Then what am I supposed to do? I have already cancelled my plan with my friend..” Charles’s gaze followed your figure as you sat up straight and turned to look at him. You looked so dejected and he felt so bad for being the reason behind it.

“Baby, I’m so sorry.” Charles sat up along and placed his hand on your neck to plant kisses on your sulky face to which you tilted your face away and scooted away with your arms crossed. “Ouch, that hurts.” He tried to lean in for another attempt on kisses but failed when you leaned away again. “Baby, come on..I’m sorry, okay? I know I made a promise but I can’t not go to the interview or I’ll get in trouble. What if I bring you along? You can take over Andrea’s role.” He placed his hand on your cheek to move your face so you were looking at him.

“Will that be okay?”

“Of course. I don’t think there’s anything wrong having my beautiful girlfriend with me. Does that mean I’m forgiven now?” Charles tilted your chin so you would look him in the eye.

“Fine..”

“Can I get my kiss?” He slanted closer to catch your lips and you covered his lips with your palm. “Baby, this is an abuse.”

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When you and Charles arrived at the set, Charles had introduced you to every of the staffs. You had been together for more than 2 years but you rarely tagged along for any other schedules unless during race week. You didn’t really think it was necessary for you to go unless if you were to show your support for him.

You were sitting along the staffs, watching your boyfriend answering questions here and there while scrolling on your phone but one question pricked up your ears.

“Being Charles Leclerc, does that mean you can get all the girls you want?”

You looked up and saw he was trying to laugh away the question. “I don’t need any other girls. I’ve got the girl of my dream right there.” He pointed at you and the interviewer just laughed along before moving on to the next one.

“Have you ever had any girls who threw themselves on you?”

“I bet your body count is high. How much do you think you could reach if you were single and not tie with one girl?”

“If you were broken up with your girlfriend by today, when do you think you can get her replacement. I don’t think it’ll be hard for you.”

“If someone ask to exchange their girlfriend with yours for a one night stand, would you say yes? Surely the girl wouldn’t say no for a one night stand with the Charles Leclerc.”

You were getting more and more uncomfortable. Sure, the first time he was asked the kind of question, you could take it as a joke but seeing the way the interviewer disrespecting you over and over again, there was no sane woman who would just stand there and let themself being spoken as if they were an item. Charles did very well dodging every questions but it was getting on your nerves how he could laugh and played along as if you weren’t being treated like a joke in front of these men so you stood up and gave an excuse you needed to take an emergency call before walking out of the set. Charles’s eyes were trailing on you as he saw you leaving.

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“Baby, what’s wrong?” He took a seat by your side after they were given a short break.

“What’s wrong? Are you being serious right now?”

“What? I don’t get it.” Charles replied and you could sense a hint of dubiety in his tone as if you were a mad person for suddenly reacting this way.

“How could you not get it, Charles? They freaking disrespected me over and over with those questions and it never once occurred to you that they were treating me like an item?” You stared at him in incredulity.

“They were just joking. You can’t even take a joke now?”

“Oh, I can’t take a joke? You called that a joke? Try to have people talking about my body count and they told you how every guys could bang me if they wanted. Is that funny to you?” You sworn he was asking to be slapped in the face with the way he looked irritated right now.

“You are overreacting, Y/N. You can’t take everything seriously.”

“Are you hearing yourself right now? I was being disrespected how can you—“

“This is why I didn’t want to bring you along with me.” That did it. You went from wanting to explain from your side to just shut your mouth as you stood up and took your stuffs.

“I didn’t even asked you to bring me with you.” You could feel your eyes getting teary and not from misery of what your boyfriend just said, you were infuriated because he didn’t even bother to listen from your side and instead just turned it around and made it seemed as if you were the one at fault.

“Yeah, you didn’t ask me to bring you along but you were also the one who was so morose because I didn’t bring you to get that stupid pastries.” Charles stood up and scowled at you.

“Fuck you.” You immediately stormed away before he could see your tears slipping off and trailing your cheeks. You could hear him calling out your name but chose to ignore it. You hated how the argument went from you complaining to your boyfriend how you were being insulted to your boyfriend made fun of the things you told him.

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You were planning to grab a taxi and head home but decided to search for any bakeries that you hadn’t tried yet and the closest was 20 minutes away. You would have gone to the bakery that Charles had promised to bring you only if it was still opened. You hadn’t had any chances to explore Maranello that much even after being here for the countless times. The scenery, the buildings, the markets and foods were very distracting that you ended up playing tourist around the area.

In the meantime, Charles had to continue the interview and acted as if he didn’t just made his girlfriend upset 30 minutes ago. He tried to ring your phone but of course, all of them were declined.

“Charles, you ready?”

“Yeah? Yeah, I am.” He put his phone away and took his spot back in the centre as the interviewer went back to his spot.

“Where’s Y/N?”

“Ah, she got some things to do.” Charles answered while trying to control his composure.

“Great, now we can talk like two single men.” The interviewer said as he took out his phone and cue cards to place it on the table.

“I don’t think so.” He awkwardly laugh and shook his head to the “joke”.

“Why not? We can talk about girls and sex. I was trying to control the topic in case she got uncomfortable but now that she’s gone, there will be so much more fun topics we could talk about. Something like what’s something you miss doing that your girlfriend didn’t allow you to do after you got into a relationship or if you were given a chance to ditch your girlfriend for a one night stand with any girl, who would it be. Nice topic to talk about, is it not?” The interviewer cackled, looking casual and laid-back even after what he had just said which caused Charles to placed his mic away and stood up.

“I don’t think I can continue this interview.” He was going to walk away when the interviewer stopped him.

“Why?”

“If you chose to continue this interview with those brainless questions then I won’t be able to do this.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my questions. If she found it offensive then that’s on her? Girls are always extra sensitive for something small.”

Charles scorned at what he just heard. He couldn’t believe he fought with you over something that was so obvious right from the start. “I refuse to associate with someone who doesn’t know how to respect my girlfriend. We are done here.”

Joris tried catch Charles to talk it out but he was gone in a blink without saying any words and he was left there so apologize on behalf of his friend.

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Charles spent 20 minutes looking around the area in case you were nearby as they had a restaurant and cafe not far away but you were not in sight so he went home thinking he would be greeted by your beautiful face but it was empty. He tried calling you again but none of the calls went through.

You had an enjoyable time of your life. It was as if you didn’t just cursed at your boyfriend and ignoring his phone calls like nothing happened. You went to a random small bakery that you saw on google, went to get an ice cream, and even ended up joining a balsamic vinegar tasting that you saw from a random website. It was nearly dark when you took a cab home looking all joyous and triumph.

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“Where were you?”

“I was…” You looked away, unable to look at your enraged boyfriend.

“Don’t you know how worried I am? You couldn’t at least text me back so I know where you were?”

“I got carried away.” You started twiddling on your phone charm, still unable to look at him in the eyes. You weren’t actually planning to ignore him all day long but you were too busy taking pictures and videos of everything and you kinda forgotten that you have a worried boyfriend waiting for you at home.

“You got carried away doing what?

“Doing some stupid stuffs.” You rolled your eyes and tried to step aside to make your way to the room but Charles grabbed on your arms which jerked you back.

“What stupid stuffs are you talking about?”

“Just some stupid things, Charles. It’s not important.” You snatched your hand away and walked to the room.

“Are you seriously still on this right now? Can we talk without arguing, please?”

You saw Charles following you into the room and stood behind you as you placed all your items on the dressing table. You could hear him gave a long weary sigh when he realized this conversation was going nowhere, again. “I am a girl who loves to overreact and can’t take a joke, ain’t I? Gotta live up to the nickname.”

“Y/N, can we please stop arguing. I was agitated the whole day not knowing where my girlfriend went and she came home acting all fine as if she didn’t just ignore my phone calls and you ended up pulling a fight again.” He turned you around by your waist so he could look at your pretty eyes and you saw how jaded he looked like.

“I’m not trying to pull a fight for fun. I’m just upset, Charles….”

“Okay, then can we stop wrangling so I can properly apologised? Tell me what did I do that made you upset with me so I can apologise for every single one. I already know the reasons but I didn’t give you a chance to explain earlier so you talk, I’ll listen this time. No fighting, okay?”

You chewed on your lower lip and felt your throat tightening. “I was upset because you didn’t want to listen to my reasonings. You acted as if I was crazy for reacting that way. I’m upset before you turned the argument on me. Upset because it was as if I was a burden for joining you on the interview. Upset because you called things that we talked and planned about as stupid.” A sob escaped from your lips as you covered your face with shaking hands.

Charles pulled you into his embrace but you didn’t hug him back. Your hands were still covering your face. “I’m sorry…”

“All these times I always thought you would always got my back but I was so uncomfortable and I thought you would understand me but I was blamed for trying to make a scene.” Your words came out as mumble from having your face covered and you could feel his arms tighten around your figure, latching you in his embrace.

“I know, baby. I know. I’m sorry I said you were overreacting. I don’t know why I was too blinded to see him disrespecting my girl when it was happening right in front of me.” He broke the hug and stooped down to pull your hands away. “Let me see your pretty face.”

“And I’m upset because you called my pastries stupid. I know you gonna laugh because it sounds funny but I always thought I could talk about random things with you without having the fear of being judge.” Your lips trembled as you cried and wiped your tears every seconds, feeling like a fool now for crying over some foolish thing.

“Look at me, baby.” He stopped your hands from wiping another strand of tears and softly held your face. “I’m sorry if it sounded like I’m mocking everything you have ever told me. It wasn’t my intention. I was…frustrated and I ended up saying those things.” Charles pulled you back into his embrace and he could feel your body shook as you sobbed. “I’m really sorry, princess. What else should I apologise for?”

“Are you playing around right now?”

“I’m not! I genuinely wanted to apologize for every single thing.” He was quick to defend himself as you could feel him shaking his head.

“Did you….regret bringing me to the interview?”

“No, not at all. You know I didn’t mean that, don’t you? I like having you with me wherever I go.”

You stayed silent in his embrace and he stroked on your back until you were done crying and pulled away to find his green, captivating eyes. “Your eyes are all swollen now, baby.” He pecked on your eyes that were still wet from the tears. “Now that I’m done listening, don’t you think you got something to apologise to me too?”

“I’m sorry for ignoring your texts and calls...”

“Please don’t do that again, okay? I was so close to lodge a police report for a missing person.” He sighed in relief. “Can you tell me where did you go today without us getting into another fight again?”

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You told Charles about everything you did whilst he was dying from stress that you were ignoring his calls as you sat on the vanity cabinet and Charles took off your makeup for you.

“And then I saw these kids eating ice-creams so I decided to get one for myself too.” You showed him the picture that you took. “They have lots of flavours!”

“Really? And what did you choose, baby? Must be pistachio again.” Charles had been staring the way you were too engrossed in your little storytelling and thought he might have fallen in love all over again. “Baby, you and your swollen eyes look so adorable.”

“I know.” You circled your arms around his neck and smiled cheekily. “Oh! And I saw puppies! Like a bunch of them!”

“Yeah? Were they cute?” He brushed his lips on your nose.

“They were so cute! And so small too! They were running around and chasing each other.”

Charles pecked on your nose again. “You should have brought me along to do those fun things together.” His arms was placed on both sides of your figure, trapping you in his arms.

“I know, but you were to busy entertaining that prick.”

“I ditched the interview.” He nodded even before you could double check what he just said.

“Why? What happened?”

“I don’t like the way he was talking behind my girl’s back.” He slanted and begin running kisses all over your face again. “Wanna go to the bakery you wanted to go tomorrow?”

“Can we?”

“Sure, why not. I’ll buy you the whole pastries to make up for my mistakes today.”

“That’s a bribery.”

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 imagines #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #f1 imagine #f1 x reader

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so-much-for-the-seashells · 6 months ago

Text

This doesn’t get a title because I’m confused

Disclaimers: The only character I own is the reader insert!

Author’s Notes: I think I got possessed, I don’t even like Sam 😭 like in the slightest 😭

But pretend season 8ish Sam has season 2-3’s hair for the sake of that’s the season I’m on lol.

Icons by @gosling-girlx !! She’s a genius!

Anyway, all notes are appreciated!

Content/Content Warnings: 18+ ONLY! Minors do not interact, this is NOT for you.

This fic is extremely spicy, sort of can’t-stand-each-other sex. Reader’s AFAB & uses she/her pronouns, only physical description is of her being shorter than Sam. There’s oral (both m and f receiving) and unprotected piv which frankly only exists in the books- wrap it before you tap it!! Oh also they’re both pretty mean to each other… you’ll see.

Again, I think I got possessed when I made it-I sincerely can’t stand him- but hope you enjoy it!

**************************************************** Working with the Winchester Brothers is a gig like no other. Cas and I are more tagalongs in the operation these days, Cas demoted to resident healer and I to stay at home mom, apparently.

One accident (authors note: one possession & a year long recovery for a spinal injury retained from said possession) had apparently rendered me useless to the boys. It’s not all bad- I’m relatively close with the older one, Dean, since we’re both hoes for a good time and good movies/music. And before the accident, I was happy to kill evil sons-of-bitches with Dean any day of the week.

And of course, Castiel is a right sweetheart- showing him new human things is the sweetest experience in the whole wide world.

But you know what ruins the laughs and the nice moments? The younger brother. Sam “Little Shit” Winchester.

I don’t know how he found himself upon the moral pedestal he crafted for himself, but lord I want to remove his kneecaps and slap him with them. Little baby giraffe looking shit.

I don’t like the way he acts, plain and simple. Between the way that he treats Dean and the way that he talks so condescendingly to me- I’m about two seconds from starting a fight every time we’re in a room together for too long. He seems to feel the same way. It’s helpful in a hunt- both of us are smart enough to concentrate that anger towards our monster of the week instead of each other in the field- but now, when there’s no field to take the anger out on? Dean’s had to break up at least 3 almost-fights, and I’ve only been back on my feet for a couple months.

***

The boys looked especially pissy coming home today- they’d grumbled something about a “stupid fucking vampire bitch,” and went their separate ways, Sam to the med bay and Cas trailing Dean like a golden retriever.

Great. Looks like I’m on Douchebag Duty.

***

“What’s your problem?” Sam snaps as I tug the thread on his stitches a little too roughly.

“My problem, you dick? I’m the one that’s stitching you up right now, why don’t I just let you bleed out?” I retort, yanking on the surgical needle with the string attached to a particularly nasty cut on his upper arm. Cut’s an understatement- it’s really a bullet wound. I’m just too proud to have pity for the jackass.

“Yeah, your problem!”

I set down the needle at that, my fists clenched at my sides. “You’re a whiny little bitch who can’t sit still and shut the fuck up for two minutes! That’s my problem.”

“I think you’re a little too high and mighty there, princess,” he scowls, standing up to full height, presumably so that he can use his stature to literally look down at me.

“Yeah? Look who’s talking, Mr Morals,” I seethe, staring up at him. I snatch the needle, on my tiptoes, and hastily finish the stitching on his scar, while standing up.

“Out,” I spit as I cut the thread.

“No,” he retorts, glancing down at me through long lashes and stupidly overgrown bangs.

“What? Is five minutes away from your big head too much to ask?” my hands are on my hips. I refuse to give him the satisfaction of staring up at him, so I stare at whatever’s eye level. He’s wearing a bloodied white tank top, which is not doing much for the whole vibe we’ve got going on right now.

He bites his lower lip, still looking down through his annoyingly long lashes. And my dumb ass is attracted to it, apparently.

“Get. Out,” I say, anger laced in my words.

“No,” he says through clenched teeth. I start to turn away, as if giving up, before pulling a Dean Winchester and turning back around on my heel, punching him in the abdomen. He grunts, keeling over. “Ow!”

“You should’ve listened, you ass,” I say, looking down at him. He looks pathetic, his eyes gone wide and pretty in pain. I shouldn’t be into this, not one bit.

Keeled over, Sam is at eye level. Our gazes lock, his hazel eyes boring holes into mine, searching for something. I don’t dare waver, looking back at him with just as much intensity until he surprises me, leaning in and crashing his lips to mine. He roughly grabs my face, holding me close as he forces his tongue into my mouth, exploring. I hate how easily I give him access, I hate the way I let out a gasp against my will. By the time he pulls away I’m already leaning back in. He smirks, humoring me for one more kiss.

“How do you like me now?” he says cockily, lips plush and pink from the kisses, hazel eyes blown out by lust.

“I don’t,” I mutter, pushing him back so that he’s forced to sit on the med bay bed. His legs are spread wide, and of course I fit perfectly between them, much to my distaste. I kiss his jawline, using mostly my teeth so that it scratches as I go, especially once I start on his neck, biting and sucking dark marks everywhere I see fit. He’s into it, little breathy whimpers further fueling my unfortunate attraction to him.

“Take off your shirt,” I tell him, stepping back and smirking at how this time he leans into my touch instead of the other way around. He thoughtlessly pulls the hem of the ruined fabric over his head, throwing it to the side, exposing an obnoxiously fit physique and an anti possession tattoo. There’s little scars everywhere, and something deep down urges me to kiss every single one of them, but that can be later.

“Take off yours,” he tells me.

“Why?” I ask, trying to play smart.

“Cause if I have to be shirtless you do too,” he says.

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

“Better think of a better retort next time, Winchester,” I say as I take off the oversized concert tee I had been wearing.

“Bra too,” he orders, cocking his head to the side as he looks me over.

“Who made you the boss?” I ask, already unclasping my bra.

“I did,” he says, far too cocksure.

“We’ll see about that,” I grin, letting the lacy fabric fall to the ground as I lean in to kiss his damnable hot mouth. This time I take control, taking pride in the little noises he makes.

“I’m gonna suck your dick,” I say crudely, not bothering with pleasantries.

“Go right on ahead,” and I can tell there was meant to be spite behind those words, but it quickly fades away into sighs as I start kissing down his pecs, his abs, lightly scratching anywhere I can find with my nails. I hate how hot the heat between my thighs is, but at this point, I can’t help it, especially as I sink to my knees, nose perfectly level with his crotch.

I take his belt into my hands, grazing over the obvious tent that lies underneath it. He throws his head back at that, biting back a curse.

“What’s the matter Sammy?” I tease.

“Shut up,” he grumble, words morphing into a proper moan as I graze over the tent again.

“Uh huh,” I agree, tugging off his leather belt and yanking down the zipper of his jeans.

“Boxers? I had taken you for a ‘Tighty Whities’ girl, Sammy,” I mused, doing my best to work him up even more.

“Sto-,” he starts, immediately losing his words as I free his cock from his confines, pulling his boxers down to his knees.

You know, just cause a guy’s a big guy doesn’t always mean that everything’s proportionate. Sam’s six foot five-ish, long and lanky with lean muscle. And naturally, because everything about him is meant to spite me, his dick also fits the physical bill. My mouth waters, and the only prospect that excites my overly-horny self more than having it in my mouth is having it in my slick soaked pussy. And I will, if I have anything to say about it.

“Oh Sammy, you’re a big boy, huh,” I taunt, running a hand up and down his shaft slowly. He moans in agreement, no more fight left in him. It’s too easy.

I let go of it, ignoring the bead of pre cum leaking down as I move to kiss his thighs, grazing my teeth on them like I did on his neck. He seems to like it, legs moving in towards my mouth. Finally I move my mouth towards where he obviously wants me most, rubbing the bead over his tip with my thumb. I’m a little wary about taking the whole thing, but I’m sure as hell going to try.

I start simple, kitten lips around the base, licking a long stripe up the underside before wrapping my lips around the head, and he moans, a little too loudly. I brace my hands on his thighs before taking a deep breath through my nose and forcing myself down far enough that my nose is touching neatly trimmed hair. Thankfully my gag reflex is still gone-it’s been a minute- as I hold him there for a moment, before starting to bob my head up and down, testing the waters. He whimpers and whines, and it’s pathetic, and I’m far too into it, unable to do much else than keep up my ministrations.

One of his big hands find the back of my head, fingers weaving into my hair. I don’t think he does so with intent of forcing me to move, but the idea is so hot that I lock eyes with him with my mouth on his cock.

“What? You want me to fuck your mouth?” he asks, panting. And once he says it out loud I get impossibly wetter, and I moan yes, unable to nod at all with him buried as far as he’ll go.

“Damn, you’re a slut,” he grins, and I moan in agreement before he starts moving my head slowly. Forward and back, forward and back, before I lock eyes with him and he gets the hint to take it harder, hips starting to thrust meeting my throat as his hands push. I just keep sucking, doing my best not to choke as involuntary tears leak out. But it doesn’t hurt, not at all. If anything I’m just doing all I can to not start rubbing on my own sensitive spots.

Before I know it his whimpers get louder and his whines get needier, and he grits out “I- I’m going to-“

So I release him with a pop, taking a hand and rubbing up and down his length furiously before he bursts. Once he does, with the most pathetic whimper yet, I get my mouth right back on him, taking every drop of his hot release down my throat. When he’s done I stay there, opening his mouth so he can see that there’s nothing there.

“God, you’re such a slut,” he mutters, echoing what he said before as he catches his breath and pulls me up by the hair- gently.

I shrug cockily, moving back as he stands up.

“Strip and have a seat,” he lazily demands as he puts his perfect cock away.

I roll my eyes but comply, taking off my remaining clothes so that I’m left in all my glory.

“You’re gorgeous, y’know that?” he compliments, a moment of tenderness as he crowds me against the bed so that I’ll take a seat. I blush, letting him hoist me up so that my ass is on the edge of the dinghy bed. “My turn,” he grumbles, voice low and hot against the column of my neck. He’s even rougher than I was, nipping at every square inch of skin that he meets, sucking dark marks down the side of my neck and over the tops of my breasts. I’m like a bitch in heat, responding to every touch in ways I can’t control- pornographic moans, leaning into his touch. He’s pulling on my hair to give himself more access, and I’m starting to worry that I’m soaking the bed. His mouth continues to work wonders, especially as he travels southwards, playing with my breasts.

He’s mean, outright biting the one and pinching the other, and it’s just what I need. I tangle my hands into his annoyingly long hair and tugging, not missing the way he moans into my chest.

Finally, finally, he gets down on his knees. He rests his chin on the bed, breath heavy on my heat. The sight of his head pillowed on my thighs as he looks up at me with those puppy dog, blown out eyes is enough to get me to come on the spot.

“This all f’me, princess?” he asks roughly, collecting some of the gratuitous wetness on two long, thick fingers.

“N-no,” I stammer, clutching his hair tighter. He bites back his moan in favor of a smug grin.

“N-no,” he mocks, turning to the side to bite the inside of my thigh, and I whine. “Uh huh, that’s what I thought.” His nose is eye level with my clit, and the only warning I get before he dives into my pussy is a small smirk that meets his hazel eyes.

“Fuck!”

He moans in between my thighs, setting my entire body on fire. I try to wiggle away from him, but it only takes one big, strong hand to hold my hips in place as he fucks his tongue into me, his nose rubbing on my puffy clit. It’s wet and it’s gross, but so, so hot.

He’s a little too good, knowing all the buttons to press that leave me tracking wetness all over his face, before taking two fingers and roughly pushing them into my core, giving me no time to adjust. They’re thick and long, and when he makes the come hither motion I know I’m fucked, doing everything I can not to gasp his name.

“S-s-oh my god,” I cry as he plunges his fingers all the way down to the knuckle every time, reaching deeper and deeper and rubbing on my g-spot. He’s too busy sucking on my clit to say anything, his attention overstimulating.

He adds a third finger, and that, combined with him tracing patterns on my sensitive bud, sends me straight over the edge with a an unintelligible cry.

Of course the bastard doesn’t stop, not until I’m physically shaking from the overstimulation, legs quivering, and on the brink of a second release.

He removes himself from my heat, laying his cheek on the inside of my thigh, looking up at me smugly.

“Good, huh?” he knows it was.

“Fuck you,” I mutter, voice weak.

“That’s what I’m getting to, princess. So impatient,” he taunts, standing up to full height again. Sam haphazardly wipes the slick off of his face with his forearm, not really caring how much he removes. He kicks off his shoes and socks before taking off his slacks and boxers in one go, revealing that gorgeous cock again. He stands before me, looking like some kinda statue of physical perfection. I have to physically close my jaw looking at him.

“Like what you see, princess?”

I stick out my tongue and blow a raspberry.

“Real mature, sweetheart,” he rolls his eyes. “You have a condom?”

I shake my head. “Don’t need one, I’m on the pill and I have morning after. Want you to fuck me and fill me,” I tell him honestly.

“God you’re a slut and you’re freaky? I’d never have guessed,” he mused, stepping between my thighs. I assume he’s clean as well since he doesn’t really… get out much.

“Yeah, that’s cause you’re not the brightest,” I tell him, scooting as close to the edge as I can without falling.

“Uh huh,” he says sarcastically, before picking me up and slamming my shoulder into a nearby wall, yet gently resting my back against it. Gentle with my injury, wow. Wouldn’t have expected it. I gasp, surprised by the sudden motion.

“Payback for the gut punch,” he explains.

“Oh yeah? I’ll punch you again if you don’t fuck me,” I say, a mean edge to my voice.

“Mkay,” he says, obviously not swaying either way as he aligns his tip with my entrance.

“Fuck me,” I order through a gasp, unable to wait anymore.

“Careful what you wish for there, princess,” he warns, before sheathing himself in me in one go.

Look, I can get laid whenever I want, especially back when I was on duty as a hunter. I’m no stranger to sex, and I have a decently high sex drive. If I can’t get some, then I always have backup- toys and vibrators, you name it.

But Sam? His dick was big in my mouth, but in my pussy? I feel like I’ve been split in two, my mouth is dropped in an o. But it feels so, so good.

“Move,” I demand after a few moments of adjusting.

“Say my name,” he cocks his head, pushing impossibly deeper so that he’s practically touching my cervix.

“Sammy,” I say with as much sass as I can muster, my voice high from the added pressure. I know he hates the nickname, it makes him feel like a baby. Because he is one.

“Nuh uh, princess. Say my name,” the pad of his thumb flits over my clit.

“Unh- Sam!” I moan, unable to stop myself.

“That wasn’t so hard, now was it? Now ask me to fuck you. Nicely.”

“No.”

“Guess I’ll be on my way then,” he starts pulling out.

“No!” I whine.

“Ask nicely.”

“Sam, fuck me please?” I ask with as much sweetness and doe eyes as possible for me.

“You really are sweet when you’re horny,” he remarks, pulling back, before setting a brutal pace that has me raking my nails across his back and moaning his stupid name. He’s pounding into me with all of his might, sweat sheening on his brow.

It’s so hard that I can barely get any words out, and I hate it, but it just feels too good.

And of course, Sammy has enough words for the both of us.

“Fucking you dumb, huh? Got such a big attitude until I’m in you, just needed this dick,” he says, laughing meanly as I involuntarily clench at his words.

“What? You like me being mean to you? You get wet every time we fight?” a particularly hard set of thrusts accompanies each of the words in his third rhetorical question. I moan, not even sure of the answer. Probably? Maybe? Gah.

“Look at you, taking it like a good slut. You’re so tight and wet, and it’s all f’me,” his raspy voice starts slurring with lust. He brings one of his hands between us, finding my swollen clit and rutting on it, tracing patterns just as he did before with his tongue.

“S-Sam, it’s too much-,” I cry, unable to handle the overstimulation.

“Good,” he grins wickedly, before upping the ante both in thrusts and in rutting, unraveling me into a mess in his arms. I cry his name, helpless as I come down for the second time.

“So soon?” he tuts, not slowing his pace.

“Sh-shut up- ah-,” is all I can say as he gets impossibly rougher, chasing his own release.

“Gotta finish the job, princess,” he stutters, before growing more and more erratic. He’s got me on edge again as he does so, but mercifully comes before I can. I feel his hot release in me, filling me up just a little too full with his dick that he hasn’t yet pulled out.

Eventually he wordlessly puts me down, fingers plugging our mixed release in me. I can’t even complain- him keeping me full is unfortunately kinda hot.

“So…” he starts, looking down at me.

“Get out,” I interrupt.

“No,” he says, not moving.

This is going to be a long afternoon.

****************************************************

“Did you guys finally get into a bout?” Dean asks as we walk (re: stumble) out of the med bay and into the kitchen where he and Cas are sitting playing Uno, Bon Jovi playing in the background. “Oh- oh.”

Yeah, it’s pretty obvious the fight we got into. There’s no hiding it, even if we had tidied up our hair or faces- there’s scratches and bruises everywhere. Whoops.

“Are you guys in need of healing?” Cas asks innocently as Sam and I sit down a chair apart.

“No, Cas… these are, uh, special bruises. The fun kind. And they’re everywhere, apparently… damn, Sammy.” Dean comments as he surveys his brother and I. Sam coughs, and I reach over to punch him from my seat away. He grunts, and then we all go quiet.

“So… all in favor of never talking about this?” I ask after an uncomfortably long uncomfortable silence.

“Aye,” say the brothers in unison. Cas also agrees after Dean elbows him. “Fantastic.”

#sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester smut #supernatural fanfiction #BTW Destiel in the background ain’t subtext it’s clear text 💪

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reiderwriter · 1 year ago

Note

Hey lovely! Hope you’re doing good! I was listening to bad idea right? By Olivia Rodrigo and thought it would be a good idea for a Spencer fic, was thinking something something with a little angst, smut and possibly a fluffy ending! ♥️

Ps love your writing 🖤

A/N: Most relatable song released this year, if we're being totally honest with ourselves, right 💀 I hope you enjoy this!

Warnings: (Munch Spencer Truthers, I'm throwing yourself another bone here), Oral (f receiving), fingering, masturbation (male), slight hand job at the end, penetrative sex, cum play, etc. Minors DNI 18+

Your fling with Spencer Reid from the BAU ended abruptly when he fell off the face of the earth.

You weren't sure how someone who had described himself as technophobic had managed to perfect the art of ghosting someone, but boy had he, and you were still a little bit angry about it.

Even angrier when you saw him plastered over the local news out on a case, explaining to the people how fake tips to the FBI hindered cases more than helped them.

You were angry because he looked so good. His hair was shorter, displaying his all too pretty features prominently, and pissing you off to no end as you still felt your heart beat out of your chest until he'd disappeared into a crime scene again.

You brushed it off and berated yourself until the text came.

It wasn't much, just a quick hello, but you waited for a few minutes anyway to see if he'd say anything else.

When he didn't, you grew frustrated and text him a response.

“Who is this?”

It was petty, but four months of radio silence deserved less, in all honesty.

You weren't expecting the phone to vibrate out of your hand as you waited for a response, but it lit up with his call and you scrambled to wait enough time to pick it up.

“Hello.”

“Hi. It's Spencer. Spencer Reid. Doctor Spencer Reid, from the Behavioural Analysis Unit, this is Y/N right?”

“Yes, Spencer, it's me. My number didn't change after four months.”

“Okay, that was deserved.”

“Why are you calling Spencer?”

“Because I'm a burnt out child prodigy who didn't cure schizophrenia by age 25 and my friends missed my birthday. And because I really wanted to see you.”

The line went quiet as you contemplated what the hell you would say to that.

“It would be stupid to ask if you remembered my address, right?”

“Y/N, I remember what you taste like, and I'll never forget it.”

“Good. I'm locking the door in half an hour.” You didn't give him time to respond before exiting the call and running to your bathroom.

Maybe it wasn't the best idea entertaining a fling from months ago on a whim at 7pm on a Wednesday evening, but you had nothing else to be doing with your time.

It wasn't illegal for people to reconnect, and you were not going to mention this to any close or mutual friends of yours, so one conversation (or whatever this was) probably wouldn't have any consequences anyway.

Caution blown to the wind, you replaced your work clothes with a comfortable dress, fixed your hair and poured a glass of wine and waited.

As if on queue, 27 minutes later, Spencer was at your door. Or more accurately in your house.

Your threat to lock the doors had obviously spurred him on, and you heard the door handle twist as he stepped into the space.

“Spencer. How lovely, to what do I owe the honor?”

The adrenaline of making sure the door was unlocked had obviously worn off for him, as you saw him shift awkwardly in the doorway of your living room, sat comfortably on your couch, your skirt just riding high enough to distract.

“I was thinking. Well, I suppose the correct term would be overthinking. Emily had to snap me out of it, because I was kicking myself and doubting myself and worrying so much that we almost lost the unsub…”

“What I’m trying to say is I’ve regretted not doing too many things to think coming to beg you to kiss me again is a bad idea. It’s not a bad idea, right?”

“That depends, Spencer.” You replied, setting your glass of wine down and standing up. You took a wobbly step towards him, eager to blame your hesitancy on the wine rather than the things his gaze, his words and his simple presence was doing to your body.

“On if you only want a kiss.” Your hand gingerly slipped up his chest until it was hooked into his hair, exploring the shorter locks as he grabbed you by the waist.

“Or if you aren't satisfied with just that.”

“I can't seem to come up with an answer. Perhaps you should kiss me and it'll jog my memory.”

You finally cracked a smile, and saw his face instantly bloom into ot as well.

“Nu-uh Spencer. I think you have to take that chance this time.”

He hesitated only a second before his hands were cradling your face, tipping your chin up to him as he bent to kiss you. You immediately responded, letting your hands grab fistfuls of his shirt as you pulled each other closer.

It sent you off balance, but you let yourself follow the motion of you tipping backwards, letting him catch you as you began moving in the direction of your bed.

“Not a bad idea,” he mumbled between deep kisses, letting loose a stray moan when your hands trailed down to his belt and below. “Definitely not a bad idea.”

Somehow in the clash of lips and hands, you managed to make it back to your bed, his hands already managing to find themselves under your dress as his lips diverted your attention.

“Four months, Spencer.” You growled the words into his mouth as your tongues battled for dominance. “Four months without this. I thought I'd go insane.”

You felt him smile as he lifted you, and grinned too as you wrapped your legs around him just as he began climbing onto the bed, softly lowering you down until he was on top of you.

His tongue travelled down your neck, making his way back up towards your ear.

“I did go a bit insane, you know?”

His hands flipped up your skirt as he ground his dick against your crotch, pushing it up further until the bottoms of your breasts were peaking out of the scraps of material as well.

“Let me make it up to you?” It was phrased like a question he didn't care about the answer to, as he pushed off of you and completely rid your body of the material that was hindering it completely.

“That's better.” You swore you heard a sigh of contentment as he held your thighs apart and lowered his head, one kiss at a time, to your neglected pussy.

He hooked a ginger under your panties, and pushed them off to the side, but he'd never been the most patient, and he'd already spread your legs. He'd just work around the impediment, you knew.

And he did, starting with a casual flick of the tongue as he looked up at you from his place at your cunt, smiling at you as he began to feast.

You'd never thought of yourself as a pillow princess before Spencer, enjoying giving love as much as receiving but he gave you the perfect royal treatment, and enjoying it so much it was impossible to deny.

After getting so spoiled, it was a wonder that you even knew how to adapt to life without him, nothing compared to the care and attention he showed you in bed.

Your thoughts blended together as he pressed a finger into you, already sneaked with his spit and your wetness, collected from between his lips and your soaked cunt. His pace was steady, repetitive, and driving you fucking insane.

Never a demanding lover, before you would have simply let him enjoy his time between your legs, enjoying just how much he enjoyed it himself as he lapped up all of your juices.

But four months clean from your addiction to Spencer Reid and you were snapping.

Your hands gripped at his hair, pressing his face further into your cunt than he'd been before, enjoying the muffled moans and the sound of his tongue generously lapping up all you had to offer.

You started humping his mouth, holding his head still as you used him as a tool to get yourself off, finally cumming on his mouth with a shudder and an unfiltered moan.

It would've been embarrassing if it wa anyone else, just how loud you'd been for your ex-boyfriend.

“You taste the same.” He said, wiping the remainders of your cum from his lips as he stroked himself, having loosed his cock from his pants sometime between you moaning like a wanton whore and using his face as a sex toy.

A single glance at him over you pleasuring himself was enough to get you ready for round two.

He had sat up on his knees, head and torso tilted slightly back to give you a better view of his cock being pumped hard and fast.

“Spencer Reid, don't you dare make yourself cum.” You thought the words were joking, light even but even you were shocked by the sheer lust dripping from your throat.

Wrapping your legs around him again, you pulled yourself up into his lap, holding yourself still as you quickly unfastened each of his shirt buttons, pushing it away and chucking it so far that he wouldn't be able to use it to cover up anything else.

It took you a minute more to properly situate yourself, but soon you were sinking down onto his cock and allowing the stretch to rule your mind and movements for a minute.

You gently started riding him, letting each gasp and moan reach your ears and spur you on, not holding back on your side either, telling him just how good it felt to have him in you raw once again.

Your stamina wasn't great though especially after having had one powerful orgasm already, and your movements soon became sloppy.

He kissed you softly on the lips, and you let go of the tension in your body as he pushed you onto your back, made sure you were comfortable, and started beating his cock into you with such a force that you were sure the bed was going to break.

It was this intensity that you craved, this complete change from his insistence on putting you first so to speak, and then using you as a human sexton when it suited him, allowing his cock to push you to your limits and beyond.

It wasn't like you could protest anyway, mouth hanging limply open in a scream of pleasure as sparks shot up your spine.

Entertaining Spencer Reid was never a bad idea. You decided then and there that if he left you again for whatever reason, you'd hunt him to the ends of the earth and beg for another chance at this feeling of pleasure.

You came again, of course, not sure if it was his cock or his exploring hands that was tethering you to the moment as you died a little death.

His own orgasm wasn't far behind your own, but he'd always been a bit messy. You weren't surprised when he gave a small panicked moan, pulling out at the last second as his cum spurted out. You helped him ride it out, wrapping a hand around him to stroke him until his dick was drained, the contents sprayed across your chest and breasts, a single drop even making it to the side of your mouth, but that was quickly lapped up.

His aftercare was almost as good as his foreplay, as he took pains to wash you diligently, even as all you wished to do was sleep well into the night directly after feeling his hot cum pour onto you.

He'd gathered a wash cloth, fresh set of pyjamas and an extra blanket to cocoon you both in before you could even lift a finger, and climbed into bed before you could even think of asking if he was staying the night.

With the satisfaction of multiple orgasms finally catching you, you fell asleep in his arms, a grin plastered on your lips, his hands possessively surrounding you.

Needless to say, when you woke in the morning, he was still there.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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lovesickonmybed · 9 months ago

Text

teaching you a lesson in the worst kind of way | 18+

masterlist | info about palestine | donate to gaza

pairing | boss!ellie x reader

synopsis | you show up late for work once again and ellie decides another lecture just won’t do.

warnings | 18+ MDNI!! wedgies, degradation, humiliation, panty sniffing, cunt busting, borderline footjob kind of??, a little bit of pantyhose fetish, dom!ellie, sub!reader, unbalanced power dynamics, lots and lots of dirty talk, oral sex reader!receiving.

word count | 3354

a/n | i used this fic as an excuse to explore a new kink i’ve been into. it might be a little much for some people so if anything in the warnings sounds unappealing please keep scrolling. this was also partially inspired by an audio i found on soundgasm, which you can listen to here. i urge you to not buy any of the last of us games, including the remaster as the creator, neil druckmann is a zionist. the second game is based off of the israeli occupation in palestine and you can learn more about that here.

You didn’t mean to make a habit out of being late but your shitbox car has made a habit out of deciding not to start on your busiest work days. You try to start it up again but once again it sputters pathetically and shows no signs of starting, you scream and grasp the steering wheel in frustration. “God fucking dammit! Ellie is gonna kill me…” You groan, swinging the door open and walk to your apartment lobby to call an Uber. You’re lucky enough to get one in under 5 minutes and spend the whole ride praying there won’t be much traffic, but unfortunately for you the universe is cruel and there’s an insane amount of traffic that makes you even more late than you already would be. You make a quick call to Ellie’s secretary to let her know you’ll be late and brace yourself for how much shit you’ll be in once you arrive.

The last time you were late you got a 30 minute lecture from Ellie, a write up, and fingernail indents in your thighs thanks to your anxious habits. Ellie wasn’t a mean or a bad boss, but once you pissed her off she made it clear that you’d have to go the extra mile to get back in her good graces. Bringing Ellie her Dutch Bros order a few times a week definitely helped you out, but after your car giving out for the 3rd time in 6th months, you’re not sure if electric berry lemonades could save your ass this time.

Your Uber pulls up outside your office building and you thank your driver for the ride and head inside quickly, looking down for a second to leave 5 stars and a good tip. You make your way to Ellie’s office as quickly as you can and thank the universe that she’s speaking with her secretary when you arrive.

Ellie is looking down at her secretary's computer screen, running her finger underneath the sentence she’s reading, mumbling the words aloud to herself. Ellie’s secretary nudges her to alert her to your presence. She looks up and narrows her eyes, leaning down to whisper something to her secretary. She nods her head in the direction of her office and you follow her inside, playing with the hair tie on your wrist to calm your nerves. Ellie holds the door open for you and you take a moment to admire her outfit, a pinstripe suit with the buttons on her blazer undone to show off her silky black button down that’s tucked into the pants. This is one of the rare days where she’s chosen to wear heels instead of her usual oxfords. You sit down in the comfy chair in front of her desk as she sits in her chair behind her desk.

“Late again, I really thought our last talk would’ve gotten through to you,” Ellie says, shaking her head with disappointment. You sigh, looking down at your lap with embarrassment. You take a second to try and choose the best way to respond, you’ve already pissed her off enough by being almost 30 minutes late, you really can’t afford to push your luck any further.

“I’m so sorry, I know I’ve been late already a few times this quarter. I’ve been having a lot of car trouble, I’ve been waiting on my tax return to get it fixed, I can’t really afford it at the moment…” You explain, feeling yourself get hot with embarrassment as you start to pick at your pantyhose cover thighs.

“We can discuss your car later, we’ll help you figure something out. But for now, I want to address your outfit. That skirt you’re wearing is too short, I’m gonna give you a warning for now but if you wear it again you’re getting another write up.”

“You’re joking right? My high school had a stricter dress code than we do and I wore this all the time. There’s no way it’s too short!” You’re pissed off now, it feels like Ellie is just trying to find something to punish you for at this point.

“Well this isn’t a high school and I don’t care if you wore it then, it’s inappropriate and I need you to not wear it again. You’re lucky I’m not sending you home to change,” Ellie says, narrowing her eyes.

“I wish it was high school, at least they’d give me something else to wear!” Your frustration from how the morning has gone so far is getting to you and you snap a little bit.

“You know what? Get up,” Ellie commands, getting up out of her chair and standing over you.

“What?” You’re incredibly confused by what Ellie has planned for you for your little outburst, if you’re getting written up for insubordination you don’t know why you have to stand.

“I said get. Up.” Oh, she’s not fucking with you.

You slowly rise to your feet in confusion, furrowing your brows and looking around the room. Ellie gets out from behind her desk and steps towards you, grabbing you by your shoulders and spinning you around so that you’re facing away from her. “You know, if this was high school, I don’t think you’d like me very much. I’m sure you were a little loser, a little nerd maybe, back then. Probably got picked on and teased by girls like me, hm? Girls like me would punish girls like you for talking back with a good old fashioned wedgie.” Ellie grabs the waist of your skirt, pulling it back and reaching a hand inside your skirt. She slowly grabs the waistbands of your pantyhose and panties and yanks them up quickly, sending you stumbling forward onto your toes in an attempt to escape the searing pain she’s sent up your ass. She laughs as you reach back to try and tug them out of your hands, it just motivates her to pull harder. “Stop taking it like a little bitch, we both know you had your panties yanked every day of your miserable high school life.”

You cry out in pain as she bends you over her desk and pulls even harder. You grasp at the wood as you feel your feet lift off the ground as she pulls, it sends the fabric of your panties between your folds and you bite your lip to hold back a whimper. Oddly enough the sensation between your folds gets you wet and whiny. “Do you wish it was high school now? I could always throw in a swirly if this isn’t enough for you!”

“Let me go! This isn’t okay!” You yell, trying to force yourself up. Ellie slams you back down onto her desk with no problem and pulls even harder, your pantyhose ripping in the process. You haven’t felt this humiliated in years. Ellie pulls your skirt up for a better view of your wedgied ass.

“God these are practically disappearing inside you…” She mumbles to herself, fighting the urge to spread your cheeks for a better look at just how deep your wedgie really is. You manage to kick Ellie off of you and you feel the air get knocked out of your lungs as you hit the desk and tumble to the ground. You back yourself up against the desk and catch your breath, Ellie lets you, watching you and smiling as she plans her next move. “Don’t move an inch,” she commands.

You look up at her with fearful eyes. Your black skirt is bunched up around your waist, your ripped pantyhose and pretty white panties are stuffed deep between your folds. Ellie admires the view she has of your legs spread open, she smiles and nudges your inner thigh with her foot, pointing it towards your cunt. “Do I work you so hard you don’t have time to shave? Shame that such a pretty pussy is all covered up with that hair. I wonder how that pussy wedgie would feel if you had shaved, do you think it would hurt worse?”

You gulp and nod, not sure if she really wants you to answer her. “Y-Yeah, it probably would…” You answer meekly. Your eyes follow Ellies foot as she trails it up your inner thigh. She tests the waters, pressing the sole of her shoe against your cunt. She looks down at you and carefully analyzes your expressions.

“When you go home tonight I want you to shave, I want you to really feel it when you get that pretty little cunt flossed. Got it?” Ellie’s tone is demanding, she’s not asking you to, she’s telling you to. “You wanna be a good little employee right? Wanna follow my orders? Then do it.” Who are you to disobey her?

“Yes ma’am.” Ellie smiles down at you as you agree to follow her orders. You feel her shoe press harder against your cunt and against all better judgment you lift your hips and press yourself into the sole of her shoe, wincing at the slight pain and eyes rolling back at the pleasurable feeling.

Ellies lets out a breathy laugh, “You like this? What are you, a little pain slut? God, who would’ve guessed my little glorified coffee runner gets off on getting her cunt wrecked.” Ellie draws her foot back like she’s about to kick you, leaning forward on one foot, placing her hand on her desk to stabilize herself. She looks down at you and tilts her head to the side, “Are you wet? Your panties are plugging you up, it’s hard to tell. Maybe I need to kick ‘em loose so I can see for myself, hm?” Ellie draws her leg back further, getting herself ready. She smirks down at you before delivering a light kick to your stuffed cunt. You gasp loudly, falling forward, throwing your arm forward to stop yourself from falling on your face. Your eyes well up with tears and you let out a guttural moan, this is a pain you’ve never felt before. It has you clawing at the carpet and leaking hot tears. But, your eyes aren’t the only thing leaking. Somehow, someway, the pain from the kick has quickly melted into pleasure. You can feel your clit twitch as you lay propped up on the floor, squeaking softly, your hips jumping up off the floor.

Ellie looks at you with a shit eating grin, reveling in your pathetic display. “Lay back against the desk and let me see if they got any looser,” she commands. She knows it’s impossible for her to kick them loose, she just wants a good view of your pathetic puffy cunt. You prop yourself back up against the desk and spread your legs for her, she gets down on her knees and crawls forward to you. She lays herself down on the floor and grabs your thighs, spreading them further apart. She shoves her face between your thighs, carefully inspecting your cunt. You can feel her breath on your thighs and against your clothed cunt, it makes you whine like a little bitch.

“Pretty pussy getting plugged up just like it should…” She mumbles, running her finger along your stuffed slit. You throw your head back against the wood and whine, your hips bucking slightly at the feeling. Ellie smirks, knowing she’s got you right where she wants you. “Poor baby, probably haven’t been touched in so long…bet whatever pathetic toy you’ve got in your bedside drawer gets a lot of use, hm?” She grabs the fabric of your panties, slowly pulling it out of you as you whine in pain. You didn’t think it would be possible for it to hurt worse taking your wedgie out than it did actually getting wedgied but somehow it does.

Ellie leans forward and nudges her nose against your clothed clit causing you to yelp and dig your nails into the soft meat of your thigh. “So sensitive, I’m shocked you didn’t cum from just your wedgie alone…” She stands up and motions for you to do the same, you feel a bit weak as you do, using the desk to support yourself as you stand. You lean back against the desk, your skirt still bunched up over your waist, the stiff fabric staying in place. Ellie admires the view she has of your soaked and stretched out panties, the way she looks at you makes you melt. You know you shouldn’t be so wet after what she just did but something deep down in you wants her to do it again.

“Can I…can I taste you? I know you probably taste so fucking good…please let me make you feel good,” Ellie pleads, walking closer to you before dropping to her knees in front of you. She removes her blazer quickly, tossing the pinstriped fabric behind her. You hop up on the desk, spreading your legs, as you watch her push the sleeves up on her button down shirt. “Tell me I can taste you honey, need to hear you say it…”

You look down at her, biting your lip softly. You enjoy watching her plead like that, for once you’re in control. “You can taste me, baby. Gotta make me cum, gotta make it up to my poor little cunt after what you did to her. Make it good.”

Ellie smirks up at you, looking as smug as ever with a shit eating grin. She hooks her arms under your thighs and pulls you closer to her, “I’ll make it the best you’ve ever had.” She grabs hold on your waistband and begins to pull down your underwear, stuffing them into the pocket of her pants as she removes the fabric from your body. She leans forward and you lift your legs over her arms, resting them on her shoulders. Her face is barely an inch from your cunt and you throw your head back to look at the ceiling to try and get yourself to relax. You bite your lip to hold back a whine as you feel Ellie breathing against your naked cunt, you can practically feel the smirk radiating off of her, she knows the effect she has on you and she’s proud of it. You gasp as you feel her begin to kiss your inner thighs, she moves closer and closer to your cunt before she takes your redden clit into her mouth and sucks. Your hand shoots down to her head and you grip her hair at the root as your eyes widen, you haven’t had anyone eat you out for a very long time.

She smiles and slowly pulls away from your cunt, your legs still resting over her shoulders. “You react like a fucking virgin, y’know that? I’m shocked you didn’t cum just from that,” she chuckles cockily. You roll your eyes at her and tug at her auburn locks, causing her to wince in pain. “You little bitch, I can bust that cunt of yours again y’know?” You let go of her hair and lean back on your palms. Ellie leans forward and continues, licking a stripe up your slit and using her tongue to play with your clit. This time you don’t allow yourself to hold back, you moan in pleasure. Ellie smiles and continues on, repeating the motion as you squirm beneath her, licking at your clit every now and then.

“Ellie how the fuck did you get so good at this?” You whine, your eyebrows furrowing as you start to softly grind against her face, using her hair as an anchor. You ease up on her hair so she can pull away to answer, “I was really popular in college,” she jokes, before immediately diving right back in.

Your hips buck up in pleasure as she goes back to sucking your clit, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You grip her hair even tighter and grind your cunt against her face, borderline riding it at this point. She lets you use her as she uses her tongue to massage your clit while she sucks on it. She widens her mouth to suck your cunt as well and that’s all it takes to send you over the edge. Your hips leave the table and you pull her hair with all your might as you spasm underneath her, moaning out her name, your legs tightening around her head involuntarily as you practically fold in on yourself. She lets you come down from your high, drinking you up enthusiastically, letting you make a mess all over her face. When you manage to come down you let your legs fall open and Ellie finally is able to get some air. You lay back and admire her flushed face, the lower half of it is covered in your slick and it’s a sight you’d pay to see again.

You let your legs dangle off the desk, feeling like they’re made of jelly as both you and Ellie recover. Your cheeks heat up as you watch Ellie wipe the slick from her face with your underwear, giving them a sniff before she tucks them back in her pocket. She gets up from the ground and walks around her desk, sitting down in her chair and cradling your head. “You’re so fuckin pretty, you were so good for me,” she says, smiling down at you, stroking your cheek lovingly.

“Where did you learn to eat pussy like that, I’m so serious?” You ask, giggling to yourself when her cheeks turn red and she looks up at the ceiling.

“I told you! I was very popular in college!” She laughs and brushes some of your hair out of your face. You can see a bit of slick still on her chin and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it.

“How am I supposed to work after that? My legs feel like jelly, my cunt is pretty sore, and you stole my panties and destroyed them.”

Ellie chuckles, “I guess I could give you the day off…or maybe just assign you to work with me all day while I help you figure out what to do about your car situation.”

You groan, you had completely forgotten about your car, “Shit. I doubt there’s anything I can do, I swear she’s done for this time!” You had a lot of memories in your car, a lot of them involved screaming to I Don’t Care by Fall Out Boy before going into work.

“I’ll help you figure it out, pretty girl. It’s the least I could do after dress coding you over some bullshit and wrecking your cunt,” Ellie says.

“Oh so you admit the dress coding was bullshit!” You exclaim, sitting up and hopping off the desk, pulling your skirt back down and smoothing it out. You sit down in the chair you had sat in earlier when she had called you in and look at Ellie with your arms crossed in annoyance.

Ellie rolls her eyes and huffs, “Of course it was bullshit, but hey I needed a reason to keep you in here longer. You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to fuck you, it’s been so hard to try and be professional with you around.” You take a minute to wrap your head around what Ellie just said.

“You what?” You’re shocked she’d admit to it.

“I’m not sure why, but after we had that work event at the arcade with the karaoke room I’ve been thinking about you. Maybe it was seeing you in casual clothes or seeing you sing your heart out to Sugar, We’re Goin Down but something about you that night just awakened something in me. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, it was driving me crazy,” Ellie confesses. You sit across from her and your jaw is practically on the floor.

“So you really like me? You didn’t just want to fuck me, right?” You ask once you’ve regained the ability to speak.

“Yeah, I really fucking like you,” she smirks.

“HR is gonna have a field day with us…”

#ellie williams x you #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams smut #bully!ellie williams #wedgie kink

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daycourtofficial · 2 months ago

Note

if i order a flat white will you sprinkle in some rhys bashing? (barista’s choice for the rest lol)

toffee = loa??

steamed milk = beron?

Okay I took full liberties with this. This has been a headcanon for a long time in my head 🫡

Order your own coffee for Gingerfucker Week here ❤️

“And where does Eris think you are?”

“He doesn’t micromanage me, Azriel.”

“Forgive me.” He raised his hands in defense as you looked to the sky, tracking where the sun was.

“I can’t linger long, his meeting should be done soon.”

“You’re worried he’ll catch my scent on you.”

“It’s not your scent I’m worried about.”

“Does he not know your dirty little secret?”

“I always thought this was our thing. No one has to know.”

The cigarette was poised between your long fingers, pushing smoke from your lips. It was a secret the two of you had had for centuries. Rhysand had little tolerance for the smell and Cassian had stopped smoking when he began obsessively watching what he consumed. It left you and Azriel to continue the habit - an accidental secret that the two of you enjoyed.

Once a month you’d get together, smoke a little, and complain about the family. It was a great way to blow off steam, a tradition that continued even after moving to Autumn.

“I don’t want to talk about my mate. I want to talk about the asshole.” You held up a hand, stopping Azriel’s mouth from opening wider. “Yes, my mate is an asshole, but he’s my asshole. I want to talk about yours.”

Azriel snatched the cigarette from your fingers, taking a long drag himself. “He’s not mine. If anything I’ve been putting distance between us.”

Being in the middle was exhausting. Juggling the grievances of all his family members during this time left Azriel at his wit’s end. Mor wanted to complain about Eris, Cassian was upset at the secrets kept from him, Nesta was upset she didn’t get juicy gossip.

It was running him ragged.

You pulled the cigarette back, the filter lighting as you breathed in the smoke. Azriel had never mentioned the letters you had asked for him to drop off, content not to know how they were received for the time being.

“Shouldn’t be too hard. His head is so big it’s practically in another court. He’s practically in a long distance relationship with his body.” You giggled at the mental image and Azriel cracked a smile.

“It’s hard without you around.”

“It wouldn’t be if my brother was a reasonable person.”

“He’s not the only one you hurt.”

You had already apologized to Azriel a thousand times, each one a dress run for apologizing to the rest of the family. The two of you were moving on, but the rest of the family was lagging behind.

“I know. But I could fix things if he didn’t suck and prohibit me from stepping foot in Night.” You paused before huffing. “He should be called High Lord of the Fart Court.”

Azriel took the cigarette from your fingers, giving you a look. “You can do better. You’re High Lady of Autumn, surely you can come up with better insults than that.”

“I am not High Lady of Autumn.”

Azriel didn’t respond, offering you a quirked eyebrow, waiting for you to continue. You sighed before filling the silence. “It’s complicated. I don’t know Autumn, Autumn doesn’t know me. Things are a bit shakey since Beron’s death. Nothing serious. But I worry too much change too soon will be bad.”

“Are these your words or your new High Lord’s?”

“Mine.” You sighed, slumping against the tree. “It was quite a scandal when Eris killed Beron and announced our mating. Even moreso now that Marigold splits her time between Autumn and Day.

“Rhys did a damn good job convincing Prythian that the Night Court is full of demons and monsters. They won’t trust me if I just barrel my way to the top.

“For now, I am Lady of Autumn. Eris hates it, but I don’t feel right ruling people who don’t know me.”

The woods were quiet around the two of you.

“I just wish he got it, Az.”

“It’s Eris.”

“And? He’s an asshole for banning me from my family.”

“He just doesn’t understand.” Azriel was the most understanding of the family. You wondered what lengths he would go to defy Rhys for a mate of his own.

“Rhys has never understood how suffocating his shadow can be.”

“Maybe not.” One of Azriel’s shadows swirled around the cigarette, extinguishing the flame. “Maybe one day you’ll get to tell him.”

#ask #gingerfucker #gf blurbs #eris x reader #eris x you #eris x y/n #gingerfucker blurbs

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piedinthepiper · 9 months ago

Text

Disease ˖ ⊹

Doctor!Jimin x fem!reader

Summary: You’ve had a sore throat for months now, good thing Doctor Jimin has a cure.

Warnings: dark content, dubcon ish, corruption, smut, mention of bullying, yandere?

Wc: 2.3 k

A/n: wrote a little something based on this request! Reader is innocent in the beginning, but throughout you will discover that she’s not innocent at all, but not in a sexual way… This is a great concept, but this is just so unserious. But I had to! It was right in front of me and I had to!

Another A/n: This is also written based on my firm belief that all doctors were pretentious nerds in high school. Because no one gets grades like that from actually having a life.

This can be read as both a pt. 1 or a pt. 2 to before: disease. They can also be read separately, you decide!

Disclaimer: This is 100% fiction. I am in no way saying that this is how any member of bts would act. Nor do I condone the actions detailed in the story. This is purely for entertainment purposes only. If any of the warnings trigger you, or you’re under 18 ¡do not read! I’m not your mother, and I don’t take any accountability for what you decide to read online!

Another disclaimer: I’m not a doctor, everything is off Google! Some technical terms might me wrong, don’t sue me! Also it’s a really stupid story, it’s pure fiction! If any doctor or medical personnel ever does this to you it’s not ok! Ok?

“Y/n y/l/n.”

Your name was heard throughout the waiting room. You smiled at the woman in scrubs, getting up from your seat to follow her. You clutched your bag to your side. Anxiously walking down the hallway.

“Dr. Park will be with you in a minute.”

She smiled as she stopped, holding the door open for you. You walked into the empty doctor’s office. She closed the door behind you, leaving you alone. You sat down in the chair, placing your purse carefully in your lap. You let out a deep breath. Being in a doctor’s office was just scary. You knew it was safe and all that. It was just something about giving a random person information about yourself that made you nervous. The sterile room that so many people had received bad news in. You were dreading the thought of you also receiving such news in that room. The possibility of not knowing if you’re terminally ill or if you just have a flu. Well, that was why you were there in the first place. The door opened, and your face turned in its direction.

“Good morning, ms. y/l/n, right?”

A sweet calming voice erupted from the man. You nodded and stood up to shake his hand. He sat down opposite of you, starting to click and type on his computer. You nervously looked down at your hands, waiting for him to talk again.

“I see you’ve had a sore throat for quite some time now. Is that the reason you’re here today?”

You looked back up at him again. He was leaning forwards on the desk on his elbows. His hands neatly put together.

“Yes, it’s like I’ve had a cold for months now. It just won’t go away.”

He nodded and typed something on his computer.

“Have you noticed any swelling in your lymph nodes?”

He asked still focused on the computer screen. You thought for a second.

“I don’t know, I haven’t checked.”

He nodded at your answer.

“Any peculiar or ugly coughs? Like slime coughs or even blood?”

“There was this one time where there were a little blood.”

He looked back at you, clearly concerned about what you told him.

“How much?”

You shook your head.

“Very little, it was more the taste of blood. Nothing visible.”

He went back to typing.

“And it was only once.”

You added, trying to make the whole situation sound a little better. It wasn’t even that bad, it was probably just because you had been coughing so much that day, your throat was so sore that a little cut appeared. But it was the reason you decided to go to the doctor in the first place.

“Ok, are you ok with me examining you a little?”

He asked calmly, his full attention back to you. You sighed but nodded. He got up from his chair and pointed to the bed looking thing with a long sheet of paper on it. You got up as well and followed him, jumping slightly to get up on it. You wiped your clammy hands on your jeans, trying your best to calm down. He put on white latex gloves and came over to you, positioning himself between your legs. You straightened your back a little.

“Look up for me.”

You did as asked and looked up at the ceiling. His gloved hands immediately went to your neck. Slightly pushing on the sides of it.

“Does this hurt?”

He asked and you nodded slightly.

“Your lymph nodes are quite swollen actually. It’s weird that you haven’t noticed.”

He said as he quickly moved to your stomach. Your back quickly straightened even more at the sudden contact.

“Just relax for me, I don’t bite.”

He jokingly said. You let out a small laugh and tried your best to relax. He put pressure on your waist.

“Does this hurt?”

He asked and looked you directly in your eyes while his hands roamed your waist. You shook your head, not trusting your voice. He stopped.

“Do you mind taking your sweater off?”

He asked calmly, looking down at where his hands were seconds ago. You panicked for a second, not knowing what to answer.

“Your sweater is quite thick, it’s purely so I can examine you correctly, ms. y/l/n.”

You nodded and started taking off your sweater.

“Of course.”

You mumbled as you pulled it over your head, leaving you in just a black bra. Goosebumps littered your skin at the sudden contact with the cold air. For a second you saw him looking at you, mouth slightly open. It made you uncomfortable, the look was not a professional one.

“Amazing.”

He said and licked his lip slightly before finding your waist again. You tried your best not to freak out at how close he was now. You felt so much more vulnerable now that you were half naked.

“Does it hurt now?”

He asked and did the same motion he did earlier. You shook your head again.

“Can you turn to the side for me?”

He almost whispered. You turned to the side, placing one leg at the floor for stability. You felt his hands slide up your back, pushing at some spots and asking if they hurt. You suddenly felt the cold touch of a stethoscope on your back.

“Breathe slowly in for me.”

You took a deep breath.

“Keep going, keep going for me, y/n.”

You breathed out once those words escaped his mouth. He didn’t say it like a doctor would. There was something behind it you couldn’t put your finger on.

“Try again.”

He uttered and you did. You managed to hold your breath.

“Good girl.”

He said as you breathed out again, making you cough.

“That cough doesn’t sound very good.”

He said as he stepped back into your view. You positioned yourself fully back on the bed.

“I’ll examine your mouth now, ok? Tell me if anything feels too uncomfortable.”

You nodded.

“Open up.”

You did as he commanded. He put two of his gloved fingers flat on your tongue.

“Wider, please.”

You opened your mouth as far as you could. He pointed a flashlight down your throat. Tears started forming in your eyes as his fingers almost choked you.

“Looks like you got some tonsils down there.”

His fingers slowly slid out of your mouth and you closed it and swallowed whatever spit had occurred during the examination. He started removing his gloves, throwing them in the nearest bin. He came back to you and placed himself close to you again. So close that it would be awkward to reach for your sweater that had fell to the floor.

“They’re not big enough to remove just yet. They might shrink if you do the right things.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to get a little bit of modesty.

“What do you recommend?”

You asked him.

“Take cough syrup and cough drops, drink as much warm beverages as possible.”

You sighed.

“But I’ve been doing that for months now, and it hasn’t helped as far as I’m concerned.”

You said and looked down, finding it hard to maintain eye contact with him that close. He hummed in understanding, stepping slightly away. You took the chance to reach for your sweater again. But his arm stopped you. You sat back up, looking at him confused.

“There is another solution. It’s a bit- well. Unorthodox.”

“What?”

You asked, willing to do whatever he told you. You didn’t want to walk around with a constant sore throat for the rest of your life.

“Do you have a partner?”

He asked. You shook your head, still confused about where he was going with this.

“That’s a shame. You see, recent research has found out that fresh and warm semen can do wonders for a sore throat.”

You swallowed feeling the saliva sting your sore throat. You knew what he was aiming at, you weren’t dumb. Or at least you didn’t think so.

“Really?”

You asked, not convinced that he was actually asking you to blow him.

“Yeah, I’m a doctor, you can trust me.”

You nodded and stepped off the bed, hearing the thin sheet of paper slightly rip. You looked him in the eyes as you sunk down to the floor. Letting your hands drag down his body.

“Woah ok. Didn’t know you were that desperate.”

His hand went to your face as you positioned yourself on you knees.

“I’m just doing this to get better, alright?”

“It’s ok, baby. I’ll help you.”

He was quick to answer, almost eager. You started working on his belt, trying to get it done as quick as possible. Maybe you were dumb, maybe he tricked you to give him a blow job. The thought definitely crossed your mind. But like he said, he was a doctor, he knew this better than you. And after months of trying everything to cure your throat, you were willing to try just one more thing.

You pulled his half hard dick out, giving it a few pumps. It was a good size, even at its half hard stage. You were about to put your lips to it, but his hand reaches your forehead.

“Haven’t you forgotten something?”

He asked with a sly grin. You looked confused at him. He clicked his tongue, hissing slightly.

“Well, I don’t offer this to every patient that comes in with a sore throat. Maybe a thank you, a little begging for my help would work?”

You mentally cursed yourself, but you were too far in to back out now. You let one of your bra straps fall down your shoulder as you looked up at him with doe like eyes. Your hand started jerking him slowly.

“Please, Dr. Park. Please let me suck your cock. You’re the only one that can help my sore throat.”

His eyes changed from slyness to horniness at your words.

“Good girl, you deserve a cure for that throat.”

You kissed his tip.

“Thank you so much, Dr. Park.”

You said before your mouth covered his tip. You started sucking on it watching his face twist in pleasure.

“That’s it.”

He whispered as you swallowed his cock. His head turned to the ceiling, as a moan escaped his lips. You started bobbing your head up and down, not wasting any time and keeping a steady rhythm. His hands reached your hair, grabbing a fistful. He didn’t force you to go deeper, he just held your hair as some sort of stability for himself.

“I always knew you were a little slut. Sucking me dry in my office with other patients waiting outside.”

He started talking dirty once the initial pleasure wave was over. Swearing in between his words.

“I’ve waited for this for so long. Fuck- Ever since I first saw you I’ve wondered what those lips looked like around my cock.”

You choked at his sudden comment, his hand in your hair stopping you from removing yourself of said cock. You started going faster instead, wanting this to stop so you didn’t have to listen to his creepy speech.

“You remember me from high school right?”

You now realised you were very very dumb, as your mind raced through your memories from high school. Park Jimin, the nerdy weirdo in science class. You would always catch him stare at you, but you couldn’t remember ever speaking to him. Well, except for when you and your friends would call him names and break his glasses. He pushed his hips forward, making you choke again.

“Of course you don’t. You were too popular. But- shit. Look at me now.”

You looked up at him with teary eyes. His hand went from your hair to your cheek, and caressed it carefully.

“I made a shit load of money to have you sucking my dick today. Shit- I have the most gorgeous girl from high school blowing me right now. Finally.”

He started moving his hips, you knew he was close.

“Fuck- you’re so fucking gorgeous.”

He moaned as you felt the warmth of his seed fill your mouth. You waited for it all, not wanting to have any of it actually hit your skin. You swallowed, before you got up again. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, giving him a deadly look.

“I remember you, you little freak. You were disgusting back then and you still are to this day.”

You erupted adjusting your bra strap back over your shoulder.

“There you are, that’s the y/n I remember. Always something mean to say.”

He said as he tucked himself back, that sly look creeping back onto his face.

“Who’s the bully now, y/n?”

You snarled at him and turned around to get your sweater from the floor. You were ready to leave and change doctors immediately. But before you could get up again you felt his body crash into yours, pushing you up against that bed thing. He bent you over it, whispering in your ear.

“You were always the meanest. And I loved it. I loved you so much. I practically worshipped you.”

His groin was pushed up against your butt. You felt his bulge growing by the second as he took a deep sniff of your hair.

“Please, let me go. I’m sorry, I’m sorry ok?!”

You practically screamed, now afraid of the boy you never thought would be able to overpower you. But that was in high school. He was a man now.

“I will let you go, y/n. I’m not like you.”

But before he did as promised he got a good grip of your tits. Letting out a satisfied moan.

“Even better than I thought they would feel.”

He whispered before stepping away from you slowly. You immediately got away from him, quickly throwing the sweater back on your body.

“Remember that I had the power today, y/n.”

You rolled your eyes and walked towards the door. You stopped, and didn’t speak before your hand was placed firmly on the handle.

“Whatever you fucking weirdo.”

You said and opened the door, not looking back. You regretted being this fucking dumb. Falling for his trick, thinking that he had good intentions. The worst part was that it didn’t even get any better.

——————————————————————————

Thank you for reading! Do you want to read more?

Masterlist

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redrose10 · 2 months ago

Text

Sorry this has taken so long…Here is #10 from the picture game. I hope it’s okay!

Warnings: Angst, slightly suggestive, hints of loosing virginity, small mentions of death and seeing a therapist as well as mental health struggles, cheating , swearing, mention of divorce

September 8th, 2003

To Whomever It May Concern,

My name is Min Yoongi. I live in Daegu. I am in the fifth grade. My hobbies include basketball, music, and sleeping. My teacher said that we have to write a letter that will be sent to a random pen pal. I think it’s a dumb idea but it’s mandatory. So here it is.

September 15th, 2003

Dear Yoongi,

My name is L/N Y/N. I received your letter. I also think this is dumb but I need the extra credit so here I am. I am also in the fifth grade. I like to cook with my grandma. I love animals and purple is my favorite color. I look forward to hearing from you again.

You laughed as you read over the wrinkled faded letters one by one. At the time you did think that writing to a pen pal was the dumbest idea that your teacher came up with specifically to torture you. The guy you were writing was cute at least. The attached school photo showing a gummy smile and beautiful eyes. At the time you didn’t know how much that letter would become a part of your life.

November 1st, 2003

Dear Y/N,

What do you like to cook? I don’t cook much but I love when my mom makes kimchi stew. It’s starting to get cold. I hope that you are able to stay warm.

November 12th, 2003

Dear Yoongi,

It is getting colder which makes it the perfect weather for kimchi stew. It’s almost time for Christmas. That’s my favorite time of the year. Do you have a favorite Christmas Movie? Mine is Home Alone.

December 11th, 2003

Dear Y/N,

My favorite Christmas movie is also Home Alone. I prefer to listen to Christmas music but I will deny it if anyone asks. Do you have a favorite song?

August 14, 2005

Dear Yoongi

I’m sorry that I never wrote you back. We moved and I lost your address. I just found it again though, if you even still live here. You don’t have to write me back if you don’t want to. I just always felt bad for leaving you hanging without an explanation.

By the way…my favorite Christmas song is Jingle Bell Rock.

You remembered that time of your life. Your parents got divorced and you moved in with your mom. Your grandma suddenly passed away not long after. Your best friend moved across the country too. It felt like your life was falling apart and you wanted some sense of normalcy so when you came across Yoongi’s address you decided to write him even if you thought you might die from embarrassment. You folded those letters back up and gently put them back at the bottom white wooden chest in front of you.

September 9th, 2005

Dear Y/N,

I wondered what happened to you. I didn’t mind. They didn’t make me write letters any more at least haha. I’m glad you’re okay though. I just got back from my cousins wedding. It was very boring. If I ever get married I’m going to wear a blue kangaroo onesie or something, ya know to spice it up a little. Have you ever thought about getting married?

October 12th, 2005

Dear Yoongi,

Oh my god, I’m sure your mother will be thrilled to watch you get married in a blue kangaroo suit. Weddings aren’t too bad but I’ve only ever been to my Aunt’s wedding. Her maid of honor got super drunk and started dancing on a table until it collapsed. It was pretty funny. I’ve never really thought about my wedding. I think I’d want to elope but I know my mom would cry if I did that. As long as I marry my best friend I don’t care though.

December 17th, 2005

Dear Y/N,

Merry Christmas! I hope you enjoy the holiday and break from school.

February 26th, 2006

Dear Yoongi,

I hope you had a great holiday! We went to visit my grandpa. It was really nice. I’m sorry I didn’t write sooner. I’ve been busy packing. We’re moving again in a couple months. My parents said I can finish this year with my friends but I’ll have to start a new school next grade. I’m scared.

March 3rd, 2006

Dear Y/N,

I think it would be exciting to start over somewhere new. Don’t be scared. I’m sure it’ll all be okay. You can still write to me if you want. I’ll always be your friend.

You were scared. Your mom had accepted a job a few hours away. Your parents agreed to to let you live with your dad for the remainder of the school year but then you’d have to move back with your mom and start at a new school the following semester. It was terrifying until you realized something as you were addressing a new letter to Yoongi.

April 8th, 2006

Dear Yoongi,

Thank you for being my friend. That is comforting knowing that I can always write to you. I just realized we’ll be going to the same school though. Maybe we can meet up some time and be friends in person. Is that weird? Anyways I hope to see you in a few months.

August 2nd, 2006

Dear Y/N,

Sorry it was a crazy busy summer. I had to work on my grandparents farm. Wow yeah it looks like we’re going to the same high school. We should meet up! Meet me underneath the maple tree at the front of the school before first period.

That was the most nervous you had ever been. Your heart rate increased as you walked towards the guy waiting underneath the tree. He was even cuter in person. Part of you didn’t want to meet him. Part of you didn’t want the letters to stop as you were sure they would now that you were at the same school. But you pushed forward greeting him with a shy smile which he quickly returned. Your friendship really evolved that day.

September 18th, 2006

Dear Y/N,

I know it’s kind of silly to write you a letter when we already spend almost every day together but I miss it. I really hate our algebra class. I swear Mr. Park is trying to make sure I never graduate. I think I’m going to try out for the basketball team. I might really have a shot at making it. If I do I hope you come to all of my games!

October 1st, 2006

Dear Yoongi,

Mr. Park is not trying to force you to fail. Maybe if you actually paid attention instead of staring at me the whole time you’d actually learn something… I know you’ll make the team, they’d be dumb not to take you. And of course I’ll be in the front row at every game!

And you were there. Yoongi was the star player. You attended every game cheering for him as loud as you could. You were shocked when after the championship game Yoongi pulled you in for a kiss. Neither of you mentioned it again after that night though.

August 21st, 2007

Dear Y/N,

Can you believe we’re in our second year of high school already? I know we haven’t written letters in a while but it seemed right. I’m excited for this year!

September 3rd, 2007

Dear Yoongi,

I was wondering when I’d get a letter… I’m ready for this year. I can’t wait for another basketball season too. I might look into drama club or something. That sounds fun. I’ll see you at Taehyung’s on Friday right?!

September 8th, 2007

Dear Y/N,

I’m sorry I didn’t come up to you at Taehyung’s party. I saw that you were getting pretty cozy with Hoseok and didn’t want to interrupt, anything going on between you two by the way? Not that I really care or anything but as your best friend I think I deserve to know.

September 8th, 2007

Dear Yoongi,

I’m literally sitting right next to you at the lunch table. We can just talk. But no nothing is going on between me and Hobi. I was actually asking him if he knew when you were going to show up.

September 8th, 2007

Dear Y/N,

Okay cool because I wanted to ask if you would go out with me. I’m sorry I don’t have the courage to say it to your face and have to ask you in a letter.

September 8th, 2007

Dear Yoongi,

Yes I will go out with you...but only if you promise to wear a blue kangaroo onesie at our wedding.

September 8th, 2007

Dear Y/N,

I will wear whatever kind of suit you want me too, birthday suit included ;)

You could still remember how hot your face felt that day. You had a huge crush on Yoongi and were planning to confess to him at the party but he never showed up. You were over the moon excited when he confessed first.

The next several letters were just little bits and pieces here and there. Yoongi took a vacation with his family. You got a part time job at an ice cream parlor. They were all important to you in their own ways but you were looking for one in particular and after some searching you found it.

July 11th, 2008

Dear Y/N,

I can’t believe we’re going to be going into our senior year of high school. Last night was amazing. I hope you’re not too sore. I’m sorry if I did or said anything dumb. I was so nervous but I’m thankful that my first time could be with someone that I love so much. You’ve gotten me through so much and I’m excited to see where the rest of our lives takes us.

July 11th, 2008

Dear Yoongi,

You were nothing but gentle and sweet and amazing. I’m glad I could share my first with you too. I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. I love you Yoongi.

That night was one that you would never forget as long as you lived. The love that you two felt for each other was overwhelming and you never thought it would ever change.

January 22nd, 2009

Dear Yoongi,

You are a meanie boo beanie. That is all.

January 23rd, 2009

Dear Y/N,

I am a meanie boo beanie but I’m your meanie boo beanie. I’m sorry I forgot that I was supposed to drive you and your sister to the concert. I really am and I promise I’ll make it up to you both. I love you.

You chuckled as you folded up those letters. Teenage you had no self control sometimes. You probably called him twenty five times and sent who knows how many texts. He stayed calm through it all and apologized to both you and your sister. He got you guys flowers and took you both out to dinner. It was probably super hard on his wallet as a teenager but he still did it without even a frown. You never realized how much that meant to you.

August 21st 2010

Dear Y/ N,

It sucks we ended up at different colleges. I really really miss you. Sometimes I regret our decision. I hope you’re doing well and everyone is treating you good. If anyone tried anything let me know and I’ll be there so fast. I love you Y/N.

September 5th, 2010

Dear Yoongi,

I know I miss you too. I hate that you’re six hours away from me. I’m already counting down the days until winter break when we can finally be in each others arms again. Be safe and make good choices. I love you Yoongi.

January 3rd, 2011

Dear Y/N,

I know you just left but I miss you so much already. Your friends seem really nice, but I’m super suspicious of that Namjoon. I’m keeping an eye on him (just kidding…not really though). Before you know it summer break will be here and we can be together again. I love you Y/N.

January 9th, 2011

Dear Yoongi,

Leaving was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I was so warm and comfy in your arms. Summer break can’t come soon enough.

PS. You don’t have to keep an eye on Namjoon. He’s nice and all but you’re then only one I want to be with. I’m more worried about all of those women constantly following you around…I love you Yoongi.

Oh boy you sighed to yourself. If you’d both only known the weight of your words in those letters at the time. The next few letters were thankfully light hearted and sweet. Yoongi made the basketball team. You surprised him by driving all day to make it in time for his first home game. Algebra was once again kicking your ass and Yoongi had a particularly hard time in Organic Chemistry. He got a job at a record store and you worked part time at the campus book store. You spent the summer break together before returning to your respective colleges. All normal and nothing upsetting. Then things quickly went south.

November 8th, 2011

Dear Y/N

I miss you like usual. Sometimes I really think about switching school. I’d give up all that I have here to be with you. I love you Y/N.

January 13th, 2012

Dear Y/N,

Christmas was nice wasn’t it? My mom loves that sweater you got her. She wears it almost every day. My brothers coming to visit for a couple days. It’ll be nice to see him since he couldn’t make it home for Christmas. I hope everything’s good on your end. I love you Y/N.

March 7th, 2012

Dear Y/N

It’s starting to warm up just a little. I’m glad because I hate the cold. The only thing it’s good for is cuddling. I miss seeing your face and kissing you. I know we text and call each other like every day but I miss your letters too. I hope all is well. I heard from your mom that you and Namjoon are working on some huge research project together. I’d love to hear about that sometime. Like maybe when we get together over spring break? I love you Y/N.

March 18th, 2012

Dear Yoongi,

I’m sorry I haven’t been writing as much. Things have just been so crazy that I feel like I have no time to even breathe. I’m so sorry I can’t make it for spring break. You sounded so heartbroken over the phone and it kills me. At least summer break is right around the corner right?! This research project is gonna be the death of me. Tell your brother I said he’s a doofus!! I love you Yoongi.

July 21st, 2012

Dear Y/N,

I’m sorry I had to cancel our summer plans. Coach is just so worried about this upcoming season but I didn’t expect him to hold a mandatory summer camp. I know you said you weren’t crying but I could hear it in your voice m and it’s been killing me ever since. At least we had those few days together. You ready for the next semester? You’re gonna kill it!

August 26th, 2012

Dear Yoongi,

How are your classes so far? I heard you got a job at a record label. I’m sorry if you told me that over the phone. I must’ve missed it. How’s that going? I bet you’re impressing all of them.

November 1st, 2012

Dear Y/N,

It’s getting cold again. I hate it but at least the trees look pretty. I’m sorry I missed your birthday party. I got the invite so last minute and I couldn’t get time away from work. I’m going to make it up to you, I promise. They have me working with this singer, Mia. I’m producing one of her songs. It’s my first solo project. She’s so talented. I think she has the ability to really go places. Anyways, I sent you a gift. I hope it got to you in time.

November 15th, 2012

Dear Yoongi,

I got it. Thank you. It’s a beautiful necklace. It would’ve been nicer to have you there with me though. I’m really proud of you and I can’t wait to hear the song. We’re planning a trip to the mountains. Namjoon’s parents have a cabin up there. Let me know if you’d like to join us. It would be nice to see you.

You took a deep breath trying to forcefully stop tears from falling and ruining your makeup. Yoongi in fact did not join you guys at the cabin. He didn’t even mention it. That was also the worst birthday you had ever had. And you knew his excuse of getting the invite too late was complete bullshit because your best friend told you she sent it to him three months in advance and he agreed to come but then cancelled the night before the surprise party. You never told him that you knew that. You also never told him that you spent that night crying into Namjoons chest. It was that moment that you knew your relationship was changing but you had no idea just how much.

The letters stopped for quite a while after that, for both of you. Truth be told the calls and texts slowed down too. When you pulled the next letter out of the box you took a long deep breath. You had wanted to rip this letter to shreds but you knew that would make you quite the hypocrite given what was written in your own letter beneath it.

May 11th, 2013

Dear Y/N,

I’m sorry I haven’t written in so long. I’m really sorry that there is a disappointing reason for me to write this letter. I’m also sorry that I’m too much of a coward to tell you this myself……I’m so sorry Y/N. I fucked up so bad. There was this girl…Mia. I can’t remember if I’ve ever told you about her. But she’s signed to the record label and we’ve been working together a lot and FUCK…I’m sorry Y/N. We were both drunk and I just miss you so much and one thing lead to another. I know that’s the oldest, sleaziest excuse in the book but it’s true. I regret it so much. She doesn’t mean anything like that to me. I just needed to release some stress and frustration and it just happened. I wasn’t thinking straight. I’m sorry again Y/N. I know I’ve said that like a million times already. I know we can get past this but I also know that if I never hear from you again that it was all my fault and I deserve it and I understand. I love you Y/N.

May 21st, 2013

Dear Yoongi,

Reading that letter did hurt. It hurt for many reasons I guess. But…I have my own confession to make. I kind of cheated on you too. Or I guess I did cheat on you? I made out with Namjoon. I stopped it before it went past kissing and some grinding but I won’t lie and say I didn’t want it to go farther than that. Maybe this long distance thing just isn’t going to work any more. We’ve really grown apart over the last few years and I think our relationship has ran its course. I will always have love for you Yoongi. Take care of yourself and I wish you nothing but success and happiness.

Ripping up those letters crossed your mind even now. Those were moments in your relationship, in your life, that you never wanted to remember again. Ultimately though they were apart of you so you folded them up and set them aside.

Understandably the letters stopped completely after that. You definitely had a few letters stored away in a drawer at home that you wrote but could never bring yourself to send.

And then two years ago you saw a familiar name in your mail box.

October 8th, 2022

Dear Y/N,

Wow it’s been a while since I wrote that…or at least wrote it with the true intention to actually mail the letter. I ran into your mom at the grocery store the other day and she gave me your address. I didn’t ask for it. I promise I won’t be weird and randomly show up one day or something.

I wasn’t even going to write this but my therapist said it would be good for me. I hope things are going well for you. Your mom also mentioned that you were engaged. Congratulations! I hope he’s treating you well. She also said you’re like some big shot at a research organization. That’s really cool. I always knew you’d do something important like that. I hope to hear from you again but I will completely understand if I don’t. No pressure or anything. I miss you Y/N.

You wrote him back. Nothing crazy. Just some info about your job and he told you about the music he was working on. How he got married and unfortunately divorced later the same year which you already knew but you didn’t tell him that. He opened up to you about his mental health concerns and starting therapy and you told him about your struggles as well. The two of you exchanged numbers and talked more that way too. Even after all those years and everything that happened he still felt like home to you.

You stared at the last letter you had written him. You were a mess while writing it. You were questioning your choices, you were exhausted and maybe a little drunk. If you’d known it would be the last letter you ever wrote to him you might’ve been a little more cheerful in your words.

June 16th, 2023

Dear Yoongi

I’m supposed to get married tomorrow but I don’t know if I can…I can’t do it. It just doesn’t feel right and feel like I’m stringing him along and he doesn’t deserve that. I don’t know what to do. I wish you were going to be there, even if you were wearing a stupid blue kangaroo onesie. It would make me feel better...especially if I was in a pink matching one just like we planned. Remember that? You were supposed to be the one I married. My best friend. We promised. But you’re not here. You’re probably in LA right now for your album release party. I hope you’re having the best time. I’m so proud of you and everything that you have achieved. I love you Yoongi.

“Y/N are you ready? He’s waiting outside with the photographer to get your first looks.”, your maid of honor smiled from just outside the door.

“Okay yeah be right there!”, you said quickly shuffling all of the letters back into the little white box.

Standing just outside the double doors trying to calm your nerves you heard your future husband laughing at something the photographer said which helped to bring some sense of comfort to your shaking nerves.

You gave the official okay and the doors were opened allowing you to walk out into the open courtyard.

Your future husband looked up breaking out into a huge gummy smile at the sight of you in a pink kangaroo onesie.

You couldn’t contain your laughter at the sight of him in a matching blue kangaroo onesie, baby kangaroo included.

“Oh my god Yoongi.”, you managed to cough out in between fits of laughter.

“My mom threatened me that if I wore this for the wedding she’d disown me so this was the best I could do.”, he said in between his own fits of laughter, “I’m glad you had the same idea.”

The photographer couldn’t help but smile as she snapped some photos of you before you quickly changed into your actual dress and Yoongi into his tux so she could get some photos that your mothers wouldn’t complain about.

“Five minutes til show time.”, the wedding planner announced.

“I’ve got to go get in place but I wanted you to have this.”, Yoongi said handing you a folded piece of paper before walking away.

You scoffed irritated because you could already feel tears begin to threaten your makeup artists hard work as you read,

August 15, 2024

Dear Lovely Wife,

We have come so far haven’t we? I never would’ve thought that the random letter I was forced to write in the fifth grade would lead me here but I’m glad that it did. I know we’ve made mistakes and have done things we wish we could change but we have been able to move forward from that and I promise to never hurt you in any way ever again. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life as your husband. I love you more than I can really write into words.

PS. I’m definitely bringing the kangaroo onesie on the honeymoon. I have some ideas that may or may not also involve binoculars, rope, and a suspiciously fluffy pair of handcuffs…

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