#it feels good to see them all gathered in one place

[morning-fragility]

🔊 Sleep Token — The Apparition 🔊

What remains of you and me so far:

[ Check out the first post about this AU ]

Hii, my mind has been running every direction all at once lately, so RAW BULLET POINTS IT IS! 💥🔫

● It all starts when Jimmy asks Grian to help him with bore holes for their survey last fall.

(In his head, Grian agrees the very first time Jimmy comes to him, but enjoys taunting him for another week nontheless)

The place is in the middle of nowhere, and the entire way there — the entire long, tiring, mostly off-road way there — Grian wonders how they found this valley to begin with. Locals in the last village they pass smile at them condescendingly; forester is a bit more straight-forward: they look like three presumptuous idiots, Joel, Jimmy and himself, with their car getting stuck miserably at one point.

The very first bore hole drills directly into a human skull.

The complex swirl of emotions on Jimmy's face is like nothing Grian has seen before.

And so it was settled.

● (Yes, the skull they drill into was Jimmy's.)

● Next summer Grian brings along Mumbo, his fellow geologist and dear friend ever since their university times; he has never worked with archeologists before and is, naturally, chuffed to bits.

Scar has been eager for some kind of vacation for a long time, too, and gladly takes the opportunity to try something new.

The only other wild card in otherwise pretty well-established group of archeologists is Tango, who lost a bet to Skizz and is now stuck helping his boys.

(Cub was invited by multiple people as well, but sadly he's too busy with work and couldn't make it, despite planning to. Scar calls him every time he's able to catch the signal).

● At first everything goes normally. They get to the place, set up their camp near old cabin of local gamekeeper, move their provisions and most of the equipment inside the cabin, check out the river and find a good spot to get down to it easily. The weather is pretty nice, the nature around is gorgeous. The first time they go to take a proper look at the site itself Grian feels a bit dizzy, but he doesn't pay much attention to it and quickly joins the discussion of outlines of the buildings visible on the ground.

● The oddities begin a couple of days later, when they finish with the camp and start the actual work.

Specifically, Grian starts acting weird.

Not like it's out of character for him, but neither Scar, nor Joel or Mumbo recall him having, say, troubles with hearing; now, often he's not reacting when someone calls out to him directly, but mentions hearing people talk when nobody spoke. Sometimes he looks openly lost or suddenly stops in his tracks and gives them confused glances, as if wanting to ask something or surprised to see them. A couple of times he wonders off into the woods alone (to "check what's out there" )

The gang are reasonably worried about him, but hesitate to confront him openly. Most of them are not exactly familiar with Grian's personal life and don't want to overstep, and each time someone who is tries, he brushes them off.

● At some point in the beginning of the second week, Grian suddenly breaks into laughter when they uncover yet another skeleton. It's loud, abrupt. Hysterical.

Scar, who's getting real concerns now, steadies him by the shoulders and leads him away from the sun, back to the camp; but Grian barely notices.

On their way from the site, Grian locks eyes with Scott, who goes pale and stays that way for the rest of the day. That's enough for Grian to gather he's not the only one who's rapidly going insane.

● And Grian starts thinking he's going insane. At first he blames it on the nerves. The last couple of months have been stressful, the weather is hot lately, he's not getting enough sleep, he must have overworked himself...

But this barely explains what he's actively hallucinating, and eventually it all sinks in. The realization, the deja vus. The dread. The feeling of being trapped, helpless, stuck in a loop he had no idea existed and likely has no control over.

He withdraws into himself and starts avoiding people; particularly Scar, because oh, Grian is terrified of visions of him. Of hearing his voice say words he can't understand, of echo of his laughter carried through the valley, of his silhouette following him along the treeline. Of seeing what remains of his bones and trying not to throw up.

There are visions of others, too, and they mess with Grian's head all the same, sure, but Scar is just... different. Too much. Grian can't look him in the eye now, can't stand the warmth of his touch. But can't get away either.

They must've loved eachother then, too. He can tell.

This revelation makes Grian feel relieved and betrayed at the same time, and all he can think about is the question of free will.

● Scar is very confused by this change, even when he starts getting visions of his own.

Grian doesn't kiss him anymore. Doesn't smile at him. Often doesn't even sit near him or Mumbo at breakfast and lunch, too deep in conversation with Big B. He refuses to talk about this; ignores Scar only to suddenly brush shoulders or lean into him, and then act like it never happened.

Worst of all is the way Grian is looking at him lately — well, mostly he doesn't, — but when he does, it's with an emotion Scar can't identify. A mix of anger, sorrow, longing, guilt, and something else, much softer, tender. It drives Scar crazy.

Most of the expedition members don't even know there's something between them. Although they were never officially together, so even Scar himself is not sure anymore. He thought they were fine, but apparently he messed something up, didn't he? Overstepped somewhere, misunderstood something, rushed, did something wrong... Otherwise why would Grian be like this when they're clearly meant to be together, what in the world is he doing to both of them? Is he blind??

● (I really liked how poetically Birdie put this when I rambled about it to them):

● And so, while Grian is staring at visions of Scar from the past with fear and sorrow, Scar chases the visions of Grian, curious about this version of him, needing to know more. He feels uneasy about some of the hallucinations at times, sure, but they intrigue him nevertheless.

● The expedition carries on, nevermind the awkward silences between people, half-truths, shared looks of confusion and deep, unspoken sadness.

● Scar paints local views, trees, mountains, the riverbank. Sometimes Bdubs or Pearl join him and they disappear together for hours, only to later return with hands full of sketches, wet canvases and Scar's trusty painter's case, with smudges of oil paint all over their hands and faces, laughing and chatting.

He tries to be a bit more sneaky about this, but he also draws people, Grian chief among them: little portraits of him are scattered all across his sketchbook, both real and the one from the visions. Along with Jimmy, Lizzie, Mumbo, Bdubs and others.

● They find a couple of old fishing rods in the cabin, and with a bit of tinkering and Etho's professional fishing kit, there's an impromptu fishing club on the weekends. Grian finds some peace in these evenings.

● The work goes at a fast pace; there are very few problems with identifying artefacts and deciding where to expand the excavation next. Nobody bothers asking questions anymore.

Pearl stops talking to Scott. Martyn doesn't seem to leave Ren's side. Cleo frowns at them and sticks to teasing Etho and Bdubs.

● The breaking point comes when the weather gets bad. There are several rainy days in a row, and they're forced to mostly stay at the camp and busy themselves with cleaning and cataloging the artefacts. Grian sorts through things that used to belong to some other version of him and decides he can't take it anymore. He wants to leave. As soon as possible, as far as possible. This prompts a heated discussion amongst archeologists, but Cleo gives Grian a knowing look and backs him up, assuring Martyn she'll deal with the paperwork herself when they return at the end of the season (and will personally make sure Grian doesn't get a single penny out of this). Besides, they've been planning on sending Joel to the store anyway.

● Scar is not as nonchalant when he learns about this, — did Grian even plan to tell him?

He's mad, in fact.

Upset and done with playing this silent game with ever-changing rules, he confronts Grian about what's going on; about them and their history (both as they knew it and the one discovered more recently).

(here's a little snippet):

They fight outside as the rain gets heavier and heavier, and Scar storms off to "check if the site is properly covered", secretly hoping to see a vision of Grian from the past there; he'd be much more pleasant to deal with right now, that's for sure.

Grian doesn't follow.

He returns to the camp alone. Joel tells him there's no way they're driving through the mess that are the forest roads right now, and nobody sees him for the rest of the evening.

● The next day Scar wakes up with a nasty cold. The sun comes out, though. It's getting hot again.

● The worst of the puddles and the mess on the road dry out in a day, and Grian and Joel set out for the trip. They're worried about Scar (Grian feels so, so bad about this) and propose taking him to the hospital, but Cleo gives them a look ("it's a bloody cold, Grian, he's not dying. Although he might, if you try taking him on that hellish roller-coaster with a fever") and waves them off.

Mumbo stays; he's glad to find Scar asleep when he comes to check on him.

● The entire way to the nearest village with a convenience store — the entire gloomy, bleak, mostly off-road way there — Grian contemplates on existence in general and the last several weeks of it in particular. On the concept of soulmates. On what Scar had told him. On assuring himself he's in charge of his own life, and living said life without Scar in it.

Joel curses his car on every bump and tries to pull Grian out of his thoughts. It works, for a while. But when they finally get to the store, all Grian can think about is the pack of pistachios on the shelf and every time Scar said he wanted some this month. About how Scar is wallowing in his tent right now, sick and miserable, in the middle of nowhere. How this is Grian's fault entirely, how he made this choice for both of them, and now runs like a coward.

How unimportant and not right everything seems suddenly, when Scar must be heartbroken and so lonely — bright, kind, handsome and mischievous Scar...

● Joel pays at the checkout and joins Grian at the stairs in front of the store with two cans of beer.

The moment Grian thinks he's about to be lectured, Joel is already starting his "alright, Grian, what's blummin' wrong with you, you stupid arse". So Grian grins into his can and enjoys playing dumb. Because oh, he's got no idea what Joel's talking about, who's going where? He never said he's leaving-leaving, just volunteered to help a friend with groceries, he's nice like that.

When he senses he's about to get punched, possibly in the face, Grian gets up and starts loading Joel's car with grocery bags and boxes (maybe that's what saves him from a bruise after all).

● Joel gets his first flashback when he and Grian are getting out of his jeep late in the evening, talking about families and prospects of Joel settling down and starting one with Lizzie. He's very confused, but his experience is the least traumatizing of them all :'D

● (another snippet):

And Grian stays, truly. He tries not to run from visions anymore, but searches for Scar's hand every time he feels panic crawl into his chest instead. It's not that he stops contemplating the questions of fate and free will in all of this, as much as he finds it doesn't really matter anyway.

They leave together with half of the group two weeks later, causing several surprised gasps (and a cheerful whistle from Mumbo) when kissing on the site one last time, as a goodbye to it and whatever happened there.

(And what exactly happened there? Nobody knows yet, and nobody will never know for sure. That's history for you, baby >:] )

________________

There you go! Most of this is directly from my notes, so hope it's not too chaotic and maybe even understandable :'D

[kenzdolls]

𝐊𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐎 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐈 (𝐇𝐀𝐖𝐊𝐒) 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒:

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 𝐡𝐚𝐰𝐤𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐤𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐤𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐢 (𝐡𝐚𝐰𝐤𝐬) 𝐱 𝐩𝐫𝐨-𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨! 𝐠𝐧! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

MEETING HAWKS:

he clocks you immediately during a hero meeting. it's not just your hero costume (though, let's be real, he appreciates a good design). he's sizing you up strategically, noting your power, your demeanor, and how you interact with the other heroes. it's professional... at first.

your first real conversation happens during a joint mission. maybe you're both tracking a villain known for their swift escapes, and you end up covering the rooftops together.

he'll make a comment about your performance in the mission. he will call you by 'miss/sir', as it is only professional. but he will compliment you, no matter what goes wrong.

he's observant. he notices small details about you – the way you handle your quirk, the way you interact with civilians, even the brand of coffee you're sipping. this info goes straight into his mental file labeled "things i find interesting about [reader's hero name]."

he's testing the waters, dropping subtle hints. a casual "maybe we should grab coffee sometime and compare notes?" is pure hawks – playing it cool while secretly wanting to know everything about you.

HAWKS CRUSHING ON YOU:

he starts "coincidentally" showing up where you are. training facilities, hero galas, even that one yakitori place you love. he'll play it off as being in the area, but we all know better.

teasing. SO MUCH TEASING. he'll poke fun at your hero name, your costume quirks, anything he can get away with. but it's always lighthearted and playful, never mean-spirited. it's his way of gauging your reactions and pushing your buttons (in a good way, of course).

feather messages become your new norm. they arrive at your agency, your apartment, maybe even during a stakeout. short, silly notes or helpful Intel, always signed with a mischievous feather flourish.

he seeks you out specifically during large gatherings. he is a social butterfly, but he will try to talk to you. he will always try to have you close to him than other people.

he starts confiding in you about the commission, about his doubts and worries. he doesn't do this with just anyone. you're earning his trust, and with keigo, that's a BIG deal.

DATING HAWKS:

dates are never stuffy or predictable. think rooftop picnics with a city view, late-night patrols fueled by convenience store snacks, and impromptu karaoke sessions. he keeps it fun and spontaneous.

He's a toucher. a hand on your back, a playful nudge, a casual arm around your shoulders. nothing too intense, but always a reminder that he's there and he's into you.

PDA is subtle but sweet. no grand gestures, but you might find him absentmindedly playing with your hair while you're talking, or leaning in close to whisper something in your ear.

he sends you pictures of chickens. sometimes he “finds” them on the side of the street. or see them in the pet store. if he does see chickens, he will send it to you.

he opens up more about his past, about his fears and his dreams. he is still guarded, but he lets you see glimpses of the real keigo takami, the one behind the wings and the bravado.

he's fiercely protective. Not in a controlling way, but he's always looking out for you, making sure you're safe and comfortable. he'll take on any villain who dares to threaten you.

he makes corny jokes, especially chicken/bird-related ones.

he will make you feel the safest you've ever felt in your life. after everything he has went through, he will try to protect you with his life.

falling asleep on his wings is the best thing ever. just don't be surprised when you wake up covered in feathers.

© 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐙𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 —

[bloodyminyard]

the kinds of mental games and gaslighting and manipulation riko put kevin through had to have been nothing short of pure hell

riko was his brother, riko was king, riko and kevin were partners, but kevin was number two

do you think, at the beginning, when riko had started to change, started to enjoy seeing kevin in pain, do you think one of the first methods he learned was the push and pull?

the letting kevin get close, to make him feel like they were truly equals and and that they loved each other and it was them against the world, the faces of exy together

and kevin would be so excited, so happy to be playing his mothers sport with his brother by his side and maybe they’d laugh and riko would throw his arm around kevin’s shoulder and then…

and then riko would freeze him out. he’d let kevin come to him for comfort or just to be together and then riko would look at him with disgust. and riko would ignore him for days. kevin would tell himself that rikos just having a rough time and he’d come around eventually. and then kevin would gather the courage to ask him if everything was okay. and riko would just smile a cruel smile. kevin remember your place. kevin did you really think that meant anything? you’re still number 2, you’re still beneath me.

and the first time kevin cried because he didn’t understand why riko was saying these things they were supposed love each other they were family and riko would scold him for trying to manipulate the situation and act like a victim. he isn’t a victim this is just how it’s meant to be and kevin has always known that (he hadnt)

and kevin would retreat. the first time it happened kevin told himself that riko didn’t mean it. but the cycle continued. riko would eventually start acting “normal” again. they’d be brothers again. and riko would get bored and freeze him out. again.

over and over until kevin gets the hint: he’ll never be as good as riko, they’ll never be equal, kevin never had a brother and was truly alone.

now imagine a kevin that’s in love with andrew and neil. neil who runs and andrew who shuts down. imagine the first time andrew pulls away without explaining himself (because he’s so used to not having to explain himself with neil) and kevin tries to use all the rationality he had to tell himself it’s not the same that andrew isn’t playing mind games with him (imagine andrew telling him “this is nothing” the same way he told neil and kevin believing it). but kevin doesn’t know how to ask and andrew assumes kevin would understand his need for space (except all kevin can think about is riko turning his back to him for weeks on end without telling him why). imagine neil denying kevin’s feelings for him not because he doesn’t believe him but because he can’t handle it and kevin thinks that neil thinks that he’s trying to manipulate them but he’s not he promises he

[setmeatopthepyre]

🦋🦋 (i love this fic the way my cat loves his bouncy straws. carries them around in his mouth and shows them off to everyone)

ha, I love that description very much. for you!

-

🦋 - pothos | pathos -> [follows this]

Despite the wind and the surprise encounter with Tommy, Buck manages to pull off The Maneuver without a further hitch. He feels a little bad for the woman when his boots collide with her chest - always does - but it’s the job, and maybe a kick in the chest is what was necessary to get the help she needs, the help she deserves. She wouldn’t be the first, and he’s sure she won’t be the last.

Still, it’s not exactly a routine procedure, though he’s had plenty of practice, and his limbs itch with adrenaline by the time they have her checked out and on her way down with the elevator with the 217’s paramedics. Tommy’s not with them, must still be down on whatever floor he managed to grab Buck from, or maybe he’s on his way down already, or already out the building.

Buck shifts from foot to foot as he and the rest of them wait for the next elevator to get to their floor. It’s taking forever and he’s fairly sure the numbers on the dial above the doors are taking way longer than they should in their slow, slow count up. A quick headcount tells him they’re not all gonna fit into that single elevator, and the second elevator is still unloading at the ground floor, and this is going to take ages, and what if Tommy’s already out the door and loaded into the 217’s engine?

Not that that’s any of his business, of course. Not that he cares, really. It’s just, well, he still has Jee’s bracelet to give him. That’s all.

“I’ll take the stairs,” he announces to little reaction from the gathering of firefighters in front of him. Only Bobby raises his eyebrows at him, gives a little nod, and Eddie does that thing where he purses his lips a little and raises a singular eyebrow and honestly that expression could mean anything and it’s not like Buck cares, anyway. He’s not-- he’s not doing anything weird. He’s just working off adrenaline.

Sure, maybe he’d underestimated how many flights of stairs he’d be facing, but it’s fine. And if his calves cramp two thirds of the way down, that’s no one’s business but his. He’ll just stretch later. And if his heart is beating a little fast then that’s just physical exertion and leftover adrenaline, which is exactly why he’s taking the stairs, thank you very much, and it has nothing to do with the thought of missing this opportunity to talk to Tommy again.

Tommy, who Buck nearly crashes into when he bursts out of the stairwell on the ground floor, just barely hitting the breaks in time to not barrel straight into that familiar back, those wide, wide shoulders. Wow, Tommy really is big.

Tommy turns at the sound of Buck nearly tripping over himself. Those familiar eyes look Buck up and down, and Buck feels his face heat up.

It’s probably all the running down the stairs. That’s what it is.

“H-hey, Tommy. Hey. Uh- thanks for, uh, thanks for the hand up there,” he says, eloquently.

Tommy’s head tilts a little, a smile spreading slowly on his handsome features. “Hello Evan. Not a problem.” He places a large hand on Buck’s arm, gives it a squeeze, lets it linger for a moment. “Good to see you on your feet again.”

“Yeah, you too,” Buck replies, feeling a little faint. He can’t believe how easy this is, how easy it is to see that smile again, to talk to Tommy again. It settles something in him, puts that wild restlessness at ease. All of a sudden, even breathing is easier.

Then the elevator dings, and the rest of their crews pile out, and they're whisked away to their separate engines and stations. It's not until hours later, when Buck's in his bunk and replaying their meeting over and over and over in his head, that Buck realizes he'd never given Tommy that bracelet.

-

[make me write]

+ tag list under the cut ↓

@fiyaerrigan @bisexualbrainrots @leashybebes @louuieferrignojr @rubydaiquiri @teabroomsandbooks @crimsonwildcat-blog @sweaters-and-silly @nochance-noway @manifestingchaoticvibes @hyperfocusthusly @frogsinflannel @beanarie @rcmclachlan @sad-girl-hours23 @ambernotember @apartmentsmoke @bidisasterevankinard @agentpeggycartering @eliotwaughdeservesbetter @daughterofscotland @chococara25 @jujuberry136 @alejaan91 @ferrigno @detectivehorror @a-mel0n @tommysdaddykink

please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed :)

[downthe-f4ndom-rabbith0le]

Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader) - Chapter 12

Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader) Reader Insert: she/her pronouns Word Count: 5054 Warnings: death, violence, fighting, bloody wounds, angst, infuriatingly oblivious love interest, slowburn Spoilers: Young Justice Seasons 1-3 plot partially, but it ended in 2022 so catch up.

Y/N Prince - miracle daughter of Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor - and Dick Grayson - first adoptive son of the Batman himself - have been best friends since day one. They went to school together, trained together, kept each other's alter ego secret from everyone else, and they founded the Young Justice alongside their friends together. 

But as time progressed, Y/N and Dick grew up and Y/N found herself wanting more than friendship with Dick. But he never seemed to indicate that he reciprocated her feelings. And when Wally died and Dick abandoned the team, Y/N realised he never would. So she heads to the one place she knows will help her become a stronger warrior so that one day she can take her mother's place: Themyscira.

Two years after his leave, Dick reaches out to his old friends to help him with a mission. But when he finds out Y/N left too, he chases after her in the hopes to bring her back.

However, when the two finally reunite, it isn't as warm as he hopes. Not to mention Themyscira becomes under siege as they go to war against Echidna, the Mother of Monsters in Greek Mythology, and her army of monstrous children.

Will Dick and Y/N be able to put their past behind them and save the Amazonians' homeland? Or will they fall, unable to tell one another their true feelings?

~~~

'No!'

Dick's vision was hazy, all of his senses thrown off by the beating Echidna had dealt him. He must've blacked out for a second, as the next he was looking at Echidna slamming Y/N into the ground so hard she created a crater and left Y/N lying in it.

He was immobilised; the crushing weight from the rubble felt as if it were severing his legs off. Yet still he clawed at the ground, ignoring the blood and dirt that gathered under his nails, because he had to see her. He had to see if she was okay. Dick wouldn't be able to forgive himself if she wasn't.

Don't think like that, he berated himself, switching to pushing himself up in the hopes the rubble would fall off him. Y/N was tough, and brave and beautiful and all things good. She wasn't gone, she couldn't be.

When the rubble didn't budge, he slammed his scraped hands into the ground in frustration. 'Come on!' he bellowed, ignoring his already hoarse throat. But the rubble did not move. He was no god, not even close to a demi-god like Y/N was. Not even Bruce Wayne himself could worm his way out of situation like Dick's.

Hopelessness threatened to crush him like the rocks that lay upon him, exhausted and beaten in every sense. He'd felt this before many times; when Jason was killed, when Wally phased out of existence, when he felt he'd made the wrong decision in the days that he used to lead the team. But every time he'd placed his hope in the one constant factor of his life, the one he'd taken for granted too many times. And it wasn't until that morning, as the dawn had haloed her like the angel she was, that Dick realised it had always been Y/N, and always will be.

'Come on, Y/N,' he whispered. Hell, he prayed, because she was the only thing close to a god he truly believed in. And she had always delivered. Surely she would do so now. 'Come on, Y/N. Come on. Please... Come on...'

~~~

Y/N awoke to see clouds and a blue sky.

That's odd, she thought. The last thing she remembered seeing was Echidna's serpentine face and the grey marble ceiling of the palace.

'Grandma!' Panic and realisation prompted Y/N to sit up too quickly, causing her head to rush in a painful manner. She clutched her head to dull the pain, but her eyes caught her surroundings and suddenly she couldn't have cared less about her headache.

Y/N laid in a field of green at the top of a cliff face, where the crash of waves swirled up in a harmonious sound of chaos and nature. For a second she believed to be on Themyscira still. That can't be right, though, she thought, pushing herself slowly to her feet to investigate further. Echidna had decimated the buildings last she remembered, but that was not the case here. In fact, as Y/N looked around, she was the only person in sight.

No buildings, no roads, no stairs leading down the cliff face. 'Where in the world am I?' Y/N murmured to herself, bewildered.

'Who says you are in the world right now?'

Y/N jumped to her feet and spun around at the sudden intrusion of a new yet familiar voice, but she found no other person. Again, she was alone.

'Look up.'

Y/N followed the disembodied voice's instructions and found a ball of light hovering high in the sky. She hadn't noticed it at first because it lined up with the sun, but it became more visible as it lowered itself to Y/N's eye level.

Concerned and confused, Y/N eyed the floating light ball waiting for it to speak again. Maybe I just imagined the voice, she thought as she admired the light. A wave of warmth washed over her as she did, loosening her tension, relaxing the muscles she'd abused over the past week of fighting. For the first time since Echidna declared her war, Y/N felt at peace.

'What are you still doing here?' a definite voice from the light said.

Okay, I didn't imagine it after all.

'I-I I'm sorry?' Y/N scrambled for words, still trying to grapple with the reality that an orb of light was speaking to her. Then again, Echidna did beat the crap out of her. Maybe this was all a dream, or possibly the afterlife.

'You have a kingdom to save,' the light urged, and while the voice was indistinguishable as male or female, young or old, it sounded annoyed by all means. 'Stop wasting your time here and go save it!'

Y/N was even more confused and started looking around her to see if she had gotten it wrong. But no, she still saw the rolling fields of green, still smelt the salt from the sea that crashed against the cliff face. And the sky was still blue, not an awful depressing grey.

'I'm sorry, but where is here?' Y/N asked. 'Am I... I kind of assumed I was, you know... dead?'

'You are,' the light answered bluntly. 'Well, not quite yet.'

Y/n chuckled nervously. 'Um, last thing I remember was being beat up by a goddess who is twenty-times my size. I'm pretty sure I am dead.'

'When you die, Princess of Themyscira, you will be welcomed by the gods into Olympus for all you have done and sacrificed.'

'So you're saying this isn't the afterlife?' Y/N didn't think she could get more confused, but this little light was not being helpful whatsoever.

'It is the middle ground between life and death,' the light finally answered. 'Not many people get this opportunity - to decide their fate, that is. The Fates usually handle that.'

The light floated over to the cliff face and Y/N felt like she had no choice but to follow. As she did, the crashing of the waves grew stronger, louder. She looked over the edge and her stomach turned upside down at how the water below churned and crashed into the deadly, sharp rocks peaking out underneath the receding waves.

'You're saying I have a choice?' Y/N asked, her mind wandering to all the possibilities either choice gave her. 'I could choose to be free of burden? Free of pain ?'

'Indeed,' the light said, it's tone sad, disappointed.

Out of the corner of her eye, Y/N spotted the materialisation of a temple with beautiful white marble pillars and carefully crafted steps into it. Y/N felt a pull towards it, took a step even to be closer to it.

Come on, Y/N. Come on...Please...

Y/N froze. It was just a whisper on the wind, but she'd heard it, heard him. The image of Dick being crushed underneath rubble came to the forefront of her mind, and a single tear fell down her cheek. She brought a hand up to feel it, to let it sink in to her fingertips and remember him, remember them all.

'Echidna will kill all of them if I don't go back, won't she?' Y/N said disheartened, hopeless.

'I cannot say for certain what will or won't happen if you choose to either go back or move on,' the light said. 'It is your choice, after all. But I know what I would do if I were you. And I think you do too.'

Y/N looked between the light and the temple, admired how shiny and perfect and welcoming it looked. But Dick's plea blew by her again. The images of Celeste's and Andromeda's deaths and the hundreds of deaths she'd witnessed over the past week flooded her mind. The faces of her loved ones did too: M'Gann, Connor, Kaldur, Wally, Artemis, her mother, her grandmother.

Dick's gorgeous face was the last one she saw, smiling confidently at her as if they could do anything, even take down a tyrannical goddess of monsters.

Y/N turned away from the temple and walked back to the edge of the cliff. Peering down again, she hesitated from falling, uncertainty halting her actions.

'I don't know if I have the strength to go back,' she admitted, balancing on the edge of life and death. 'I don't know if I have what it takes to beat Echidna. To save my people.'

The light floated in front of Y/N, and it let out a small chuckle. 'Sure you do. You've known for a long time now.'

'How do you know that?' Y/N asked.

'Because...'

The light shone brighter, causing Y/N to shield her eyes for a moment. But Y/N could see the light's form changing, expanding and stretching until it mirrored her own height and shape. As Y/N brought her hands down, she was shocked to see her own face smiling back at her.

'...I am you,' the light said, though now it spoke with Y/N's voice. 'And we have always had what it takes to save our people. Your power just needed time to manifest itself, as it has done with your royal bloodline for millennia. The power is always different, and now... it is your time to use it for good.'

It all suddenly clicked in Y/N's mind as she stood face to face with herself. 'It wasn't Athena that helped me that night on the beach. It was you!'

The light shook her head. 'No, it was yourself, Y/N. You never needed a god to save you, only yourself.'

The light offered her hands out to Y/N, a bright smile on her face. 'So... are you ready then?'

Y/N had been questioning her suitability as Princess of Themyscira since the day she arrived on the island. She hadn't believed she would ever live up to her mother's legacy or power. But as she looked at the light - at herself - she realised she never had to.

Assurance and certainty had Y/N taking the light's hands and saying, 'Like you said, I always have been.'

With that, the light pulled Y/N off the cliff's edge and the two free fell down towards the rocks below. As they held onto each other, the light dissipated into small sparkles. The sparkles didn't fly away though. Instead they swarmed around Y/N, encasing her in radiant light.

The last thing Y/N saw before the world went white was the ocean rising up to meet her and engulf in its depths.

~~~

'Come on, Y/N. Come on!'

'Grayson!'

'Calliope! Over here!' Dick called out to the warrior, his voice desperate and sore as the pain his legs were experiencing was becoming unbearable.

Between the rubble around him, Calliope weaved her way through the maze of debris to get to him, a trail of other warriors following her moves. As they reached him, they all immediately swarmed around him, hands reaching for various pieces of rubble.

As they reached the final big slab pinning him down, Calliope called, 'Lift!'

Dick groaned with relief as the women removed the slab, grunting with strain as Calliope grabbed his hands and pulled out from underneath it.

She propped him up in a seating position, allowing him to suck in well-needed deep breaths. 'What happened?' she asked, looking around at the mess surrounding them. 'Where's Echidna?'

'She's gone... She's gone after the Queen,' Dick got out between breaths, eyes straying to the lifeless bodies of his fallen comrades. 'She killed Andromeda and Celeste.'

Calliope followed Dick's gaze, her breath hitching at the bloody sight of her mauled sisters. But she did not vomit, she did not cry, only turned back to Dick with the most serious expression he'd ever seen her wear. 'And the Princess?'

The mere mention of Y/N brought energy back to Dick's legs, and he scrambled to his feet and started running over to the ditch that Y/N laid in regardless of how much they hurt still.

'Grayson! Grayson! Wait up!' Calliope called as she chased after him, but Dick didn't bother looking back. Panic and worry and dread spurred his feet to move faster. He had to see for himself, had to see if he was too late again.

Calliope finally caught up to him as they approached the edge of the ditch, saying, 'Grayson, what is the matter with-'

She was cut off as the two of them were blown back from the ditch, a beam of white light firing out of it, through the palace roof and into the sky. Dick and Calliope shielded their eyes at the impossible brightness of the light, and when it finally died down, Dick was astounded at what was before him.

Y/N floated above the ditch encased in white light, the same white light that had possessed her the night on the beach. Wisps of it licked at her body, burning away her leather skirt and infusing itself into her obsidian armour. As if floating in zero gravity, her hair waved behind her in an invisible wind, only giving her a more god-like aura. If Dick hadn't known any better, he would've thought she was in fact Wonder Woman.

She was beauty and fear tied together. It was unlike anything Dick had ever witnessed, nor, he figured, he would ever witness in his lifetime again.

Unlike the night on the beach, however, her eyes did not glow an unresponsive white. Dick locked eyes with Y/N's shining E/C ones, and he'd never felt so transfixed by something before. But then again, those eyes could always get him to do whatever she wanted, she only need look at him.

Dick noticed her cuts and bruises still remained, but she didn't seem fazed by them anymore as she floated to stand on the edge of the ditch, light still emanating from her.

'Princess!' Calliope called out with joy, pulling herself and Dick to his feet before running over to Y/N. Dick and the other warriors followed until they all stood before Y/N.

'Calliope, didn't I tell you to go look after the evacuees?' Y/N asked, her tone slightly amused.

Calliope shrugged, a cheeky grin blooming on her face. 'You should know by now, Princess. I'm not one to follow orders so blindly. Besides, if I hadn't, Grayson here would've been two legs short of a full body.'

'It's true,' Dick added, drawing Y/N's attention to him.

A soft smile blossomed on her face when she looked at him, relief allowing her shoulders to sag for one moment. 'Then I am glad for insolence, Calliope. Just this once.'

Y/N quickly straightened up, her smile dropping as she looked between Calliope and Dick. 'I'm going after Echidna. Alone. I need you two to kill the monsters out the front and keep everyone safe.'

'And leave you to face the Mother of Monsters on your own?' Dick argued. 'I don't think so. She almost killed you just now.'

'Only because I didn't believe I had what it took to defeat her,' Y/N countered, eyes lingering over him too long but also not long enough. 'The truth is... I don't need to be my mother or Athena or anyone else in order to defeat Echidna. This is my home,' Y/N pointed to the palace gates where the fighting continued, 'those are my people. There is nothing I won't do to save them. And you.'

In that moment, as their eyes locked with one another Dick understood what she meant. They'd always been able to understand one another since they were children. Even after their time apart, he knew she was telling the truth. There was no end to what she would do. As long as her people and he stayed alive, she would give herself up to the gods themselves if she had to.

By the gods, he'd been so blind. So damn blind for too damn long.

The very thought of a world without her in it scared Dick the most, but the words he desperately wanted to say got stuck in his throat and Y/N rose up from the ground, energy surging through her.

'Echidna's reign of terror ends now,' she said, rising higher and higher, and with a burst of speed arguably faster than the Flash, she blasted off towards the doors leading into the palace, leaving a trail of white behind her temporarily.

'Wait!' Dick called out, but she was out of sight already.

He went to chase after her, but a strong hand on his wrist stopped him short. 'You heard what she said,' Calliope said, trying to tug him towards the fight outside. 'She doesn't need us.'

'No, you don't understand,' he said, pulling himself free of calliope's grip. 'She does need us. Especially if you want her to one day be your queen.'

Calliope's face dropped as realisation washed over her. 'Are you saying she...?'

Dick nodded. 'She doesn't plan on coming out of this fight alive.'

Calliope inspected him for a moment, a sad expression on her face. 'And you'll be damned if you let her sacrifice herself like that.'

Dick nodded, guilt and hopelessness threatening to overtake him. 'After all she's done... I have to try. For her.'

Calliope stared at him a moment longer, her eyes searching for something on his face, in his eyes. Whatever it was, she seemed to find it as she turned to the women behind her and said, 'You heard the Princess. Go help your sisters. Grayson and I will assist the Princess. Do not let any monster pass those gates.'

'Yes, General!' the women answered in unison, then ran for the broken palace gates where hundreds of thousands of monsters awaited them.

Calliope quickly ran over to where Dick had been pinned and picked up his escrima sticks. She held them out to him as she returned, to which he gratefully took.

'Ready?' Dick asked, gripping tight to his escrima sticks. Out of nerves or stability, he wasn't sure.

Calliope pulled her sword from its scabbard and held it with a ferocity that Dick never wanted to be dealt. For someone who had suffered third-degree burns on her hands not even a day ago, she barely seemed fazed by her injuries. 'Always, Grayson,' she replied, a sly smirk dancing on her lips.

With that, Dick and Calliope ran through the giant doors that led into the palace, following the desolation Echidna had left in her wake.

~~~

It wasn't hard for Y/N to track down Echidna; the goddess broken through every wall in the palace it seemed, as rubble littered the corridors, as the floors were indented by her giant footprint. But it was the strewn bodies of the warriors who'd stayed behind to guard her grandmother - dead or just unconscious, she couldn't tell with some - that spurred her to fly faster after the Mother of Monsters.

Y/N was more than aware of her injuries as her muscles strained, as she dared to breathe. But the power that surged through her numbed it all. As she had on the night at the beach, Y/N felt powerful, indestructible, stronger than she'd ever been before.

She would not let Echidna win. Not even if it killed her.

Echidna's destruction led Y/N to the centre courtyard of the palace; a large square area with a marble fountain and gorgeous gardens of exotic plants and flowers that skirted the courtyard walls. Y/N had spent many an evening reading there or just simply thinking.

However, tranquility had no place there anymore as the gardens were squashed and the fountain laid in a crumbled over-flowing mess. Echidna stood at the centre of it all, reaching up to one of the higher levels of the palace. She was like a child with dolls, picking up Amazon warriors and throwing them away as if they were just toys she could manipulate.

Her sisters' screams echoed up and down the courtyard, but it was the final woman in Echidna's hands that sent Y/N into motion.

Y/N landed beside a fallen pillar, reached underneath it and lifted it up with a grunt. She held the pillar over head for a moment before pulling her arms back and then slingshotting it up at Echidna. It hit her square in the jaw, causing her to drop Y/N's grandmother back on the balcony she was snatched from.

'Grandmother, go!' Y/N cried out. 'I'll take care of this.'

Echidna groaned as she rubbed her jaw, switching her serpentine glare to Y/N, black claws glinting in the firelight from the lanterns that still lit up the palace walls. 'I thought I'd dealt with you,' she hissed in frustration.

Y/N raised her arms, clenched her hands into fists in anticipation. 'If it makes you feel better, so did I.'

Echidna growled and swung a clawed hand at Y/N. Y/N leaped high as the hand brushed underneath her, landing briefly only to take off from the ground and charge at Echidna's face. Y/N landed a punch to Echidna's chin, sending the goddess' head flying upwards and her stumbling back into one side of the courtyard. Y/N landed on an opposite balcony as she watched Echidna pull herself out of the wall of balconies she'd fallen into.

More balconies fell as Echidna gripped hard onto them, leveraging herself back upright. Her eyes flashed an angry green, and she bared her fangs in a hungry manner.

'I've had enough of you, insolent mortal!' Echidna howled, spiked tail whipping to and fro behind her. Even from across the courtyard, Y/N could make out the dried blood on its pointed tip. The memory of her fallen sisters pierced something inside her, and another wave of power flowed through her.

From head to toe, white energy encompassed Y/N. It shook the very air around her, threatened to disintegrate anything that came close to her. It thrummed through her like her own blood, hummed through her bones, entwined with her heart.

With one thought, Y/N rose from the balcony to hover just over the edge, eyes locked with Echidna's, who now looked very wary of the insolent mortal before her.

...We have always had what it takes to save our people. Your power just needed time to manifest itself... The power is always different, and now... it is your time to use it for good.

'Trust me, the sentiment is shared,' Y/N said, her voice booming through the space as her power thrummed in time with her heartbeat. 'This ends now, Echidna.'

The Mother of Monsters bared her fangs in a hungry smile. 'Finally, something we can agree on.'

Together, they charged at one another, Echidna's giant hand reaching out to grab Y/N. Before, Y/N would've been caught, but this new power of hers cleared her mind, made her faster. As if Echidna was in slow motion, Y/N easily dodged her swing and collided with her chest.

The goddess grunted as she was winded, then looked down to find Y/N still there. Echidna growled in frustration and went to uppercut Y/N, but again Y/N was too fast, and Echidna ended up punching herself underneath her chin.

Y/N didn't waste time, pushing off a nearby pillar and charging for Echidna's knee. She crashed into it with such force an audible crack resounded through the courtyard, echoed by Echidna's wail of pain. Y/N raised her hands so her armoured bracelets crossed over as Echidna came down with a fist overhead. As they collided, the bracelets lit up white and a pulse of energy burst out of them, sending Echidna's arm reeling back with a sickening crunch.

As Echidna cradled her injured arm, Y/N rose from the ground until she aligned with Echidna's hateful eyes. 'You come to our island, destroy our homes, and kill my sisters...' Y/N charged at Echidna, landing a punch on her cheek before she could raise a clawed finger. Y/N zoomed in for another punch and another, knocking Echidna every which way until thew goddess was so dizzy she fell to her knees, destroying the fountain completely as she knelt in its watery remains.

Y/N landed on Echidna's back, and although breathing heavy with exhaustion, she walked right up to her neck so the goddess could hear Y/N when she spoke. 'I will not forgive you for what you have done, and I am done showing mercy.'

Just as Y/N raised her bracelets above her head for one final blow, a voice cried out in the distance, stopping her motions.

'Y/N! Behind you!'

Y/N glanced towards the familiar voice, only to shockingly find Dick standing with Calliope near the entrance to the courtyard. He'd ditched his helmet so she could see his black locks sticking to his sweaty forehead, could see the panic written on his face as he pointed somewhere over her shoulder.

She didn't have time to be mad at him for being there as she twisted in time to see Echidna's tail strike at her. Y/N brought her bracelets up to block the strike, but was sent flying into a pillar from the impact. She was winded twice as she hit the pillar first, then struck the ground just as hard as she fell. She was aware that someone was calling her name, but her head rung and she had to blink a few times to regain proper vision.

As her senses returned, Y/N finally realised Echidna was standing up again. Y/N made to get up but the tail was too quick again, wrapping around her middle and over her arms so she couldn't fight. It constricted around her like a snake, pushing air out of her lungs and snapping a rib or two as it lifted her off the ground to hover in front of Echidna's bloodied and bruised face.

Y/N had never pissed off a god before... to her knowledge, anyways. But even in her slowly suffocating state, she could make out the fury in Echidna's eyes, the resentment in her snarl.

'In all my years,' Echidna started, breath haggard from the beating she'd been dealt, '...I have never hated mortals more so than I have come to hate you.'

Y/N went to reply but Echidna's tail just squeezed harder, eliciting a quiet whimper of pain from Y/N.

'I will take great pleasure in breaking every bone in your body, then squeezing every last drop of blood from you,' Echidna threatened, her tail's grip on Y/N slowly tightening with every word. 'And once I am done, I will do the same to your Queen, then your precious little pretty boy down there, then every last Amazon warrior that isn't already being feasted on by my children.'

Y/N wrestled weakly with her bindings, but the more she was squeezed, the less energy she had to fight back with.

Y/N's fight amused Echidna as she snickered down at her. The Mother of Monsters leaned in close, her forked tongue slipping out to caress Y/N's face.

'You forget who you are, mortal,' Echidna whispered. 'And who you were up against. I am the Mother of Monsters, Echidna. You... you are nobody.'

The tail tightened and Y/N let out a choking sound, feeling herself slip away with every second that passed. She looked to the courtyard entrance one last time and saw Dick and Calliope. They seemed to be screaming but she couldn't hear a thing. Dick leapt over rubble in an attempt to get to her, to save her, Y/N realised. Calliope chased after him, but it would all be for nothing. Y/N would be dead by the time they got to her, and then Echidna would just kill them too.

You never needed a god to save you, only yourself.

Y/N turned back to face Echidna, making sure she saw the fire and the anger in Y/N's eyes. 'I am not... nobody,' she managed to breathe out, starting to gather the last remnants of her power together. 'I am Y/N Prince... Daughter of Diana Prince, the protector and former princess of Themyscira.'

As her power built, the tail loosened its grip ever so slightly as heat emanated from Y/N. 'What are you doing?' Echidna hissed, forcing herself to keep ahold of Y/N despite the pain. 'Stop that!'

'I am Wonderess, protecter of mankind and the Amazons,' Y/N continued, the power just growing and growing. And as much as it hurt to speak, she would not let Echidna have the last word. 'I am a sister and a friend. And I will not let you destroy my home.'

The already dark clouds above grew even darker as bolts of lighting flashed overhead, some even hitting the ground of the courtyard.

'Enough!' Echidna yelled. 'Stop it, you insolent mortal!'

'If I'm going down,' Y/N said through gritted teeth, the pain increasing tenfold as she tried to maintain and muster her power. '...then I'm taking you with me.'

More bolts of lightning struck the inside of the courtyard, some hitting the balcony and sending rubble crashing down. Some hit Echidna's shoulder, eliciting a painful cry from her. Y/N could feel Echidna try to retract her tail, but the light and the heat sealed her to Y/N. She would not escape her fate, and nor would Y/N.

Y/N turned her head one final time towards Dick and calliope, saw that Calliope was holding Dick back near the entrance as he tried to escape her grip.

They're safe. Good. She smiled with relief, and as Dick's eyes locked with hers, she was compelled by something to mouth a final message to him. The way he stopped fighting and stared up at her in pure heartbreak told Y/N he understood her message.

And with that, Y/N looked to the sky as she let her power finally explode.

A beam of white light shot up from her and into the stormy sky, and as Y/N's light dissipated, one giant bolt of lightning struck Echidna, sending shockwave after shockwave of intense energy through the both of them. Y/N couldn't tell if she was screaming she was in so much pain.

But the pain went as quickly as it came and soon she was numb to everything, just staring up at the sky as Echidna let go of her. Y/N registered briefly the sensation of free-falling, and for that brief moment, before endless darkness, Y/N felt at peace.

Balconies and pieces of the palace roof came crashing down with her, but she didn't register any pain.

Y/N was already gone before she hit the ground.

~~~

Tag List:

@valiantbouquetcloud | @epicy0n | @resistanythingbuttemptation | @lunaizhere | @nameunknownsthings | @tqrgvryen | @pariahsparadise | @edgycat | @b4tm4nn | @cynwing | @lilylovelyxo | @herondale-lightworm | @animeflower26 | @tiny-marie | @jedigrayson | @kookiemyfeelsposts | @whore-of-many-hot-men | @vxxviennne | @peachmartini | @jayn333-blog | @rory-cakes | @littleshadow17 | @lwtmonster91 | @levi-09

[swanlakebaby]

obsessed ex-gf pt. 2 | pjm

→ summary: after getting caught watching jimin through this windows, you feel weary going back to stalking him. when you finally muster up the courage to go back, you see something you never would’ve imagined seeing. so, you decide to get your revenge instead. if you couldn’t have him, no one could. → pairing: bts!jimin x obsessivefem!reader → tags: smut, risky, masturbation, obsessed gf, stalker, jimin, bts jimin, love making, sex → word count: n/a, but def over 1.2k! → a/n: i originally planned to make this a one-off story but people asked for a part two and i felt inspired to continue so here it is. enjoy! :) masterlist

you stare down at the message, a hard lump of anxiety forming at the bottom of your throat. had he really seen me? you thought to yourself. i need to play this off somehow.. you spend the next seven minutes typing and deleting excuses and lies, trying to come up with something even slightly believable.

what do you mean? is all you’re able to send after eventually giving up.

don’t play dumb with me, i can spot your car from a mile away. just don’t come back.

you swallow hard and begin to rapidly text out a rushed lie. as you hit send, the message fails to deliver. he had blocked you just like that. you knew it was a bad sign. that he fully believed you were the one watching him and he no longer wanted to deal with you at any capacity. you began to feel hot flashes of fear, wondering if he was going to report you for creepily sitting outside of his apartment building with binoculars.

for the next few days, you stay weary of jimin’s neighborhood. you felt addicted to the euphoric feeling that came with watching him through his windows, but the risk currently felt too high. it was only a week later that you finally felt confident enough to return.

after work, your co-workers gathered around the break room. “i heard that new tex-mex spot a few minutes away was pretty good, and they also serve margaritas!” one of them said, checking the google maps from their phone. the group sat on that suggestion for a while, occasionally throwing out other places too. you moved around the group and began packing your things off of your desk. “you’re not going?” one of the others said, furrowing their eyebrows and glancing at you as if you not going would suddenly ruin the night or something. you shake your head with a fake-sorry expression on your face. “i’m sorry- i can’t join you guys tonight, as fun as it sounds.” you say, zipping up your laptop case. because i have to go watch my ex possibly jerk off in his apartment again. you think to yourself, looking around for a moment to make sure you didn’t actually say that out loud.

“i’ve got family coming over. we’re supposed to have a whole family dinner thing so..” you trail off, looking at all of their faces to see if they believed you. they eventually nodded understandingly and wished you a great family dinner as you rushed out of the door and to your car. today, you didn’t actually plan to watch jimin. it was during your lunch break that you ultimately decided you’d go back today, meaning you didn’t have time to stuff any toys under your car seat before work today. your hands would have to suffice.

when you get in the car you pull out your phone.

can i borrow your car? mine has been having issues lately. just need to run a quick errand. ty!

you stare at the screen as the typing bubbles dance up and down.

sure darling

you sigh out a heavy breath of relief and drive to your moms house. you park beside her car and pull down on the cars compartment handle and grab your binoculars before putting them in your purse and getting out of the car. before you can approach the door, your mom is already on the porch with her car keys in hand. “hi baby.” she says lovingly, pulling you in for a hug. “hi mom.” you say, reaching forward for the keys. she pulls her hand back with a smirk. “in a rush, aren’t we? what’s wrong with your car by the way?” your mom looks over your shoulder towards you car. “just general problems, but i’m too paranoid to drive far distances.” you lie, not breaking eye contact with your mom. “ah. maybe your father can take a look at it? HON-”

“mom! it’s okay.” you say, cutting her off before she can call for your dad. “it’s fine. i probably just need an oil change or something. i’ve already scheduled a maintenance appointment for tomorrow. okay?” you wanted to leave already, to be parked discreetly around his apartment building, fingering away at yourself. your mom smiles softly, dropping the keys in your hand. “i’m worried about you.” she says with a lower tone. you furrow your eyebrows at her, gripping the keys tighter. “what do you mean?”

“i mean- since jimin broke up with you. you don’t come over that much anymore, sometimes i think you’re dead until i see you on TV.” she says with a concerned laugh. you take a deep breath and pull your mom into a tight hug. “i’m fine. i promise. i just want to go run my errand real quick. when i come back, ill possibly stay for dinner.” you say reassuringly as you give your mom a soft kiss on the cheek.

when you finally escape the grasp of your mom, you think over the plan. leaving your car with your mom was beneficial for multiple reasons. if for whatever reason jimin was to allegedly see you, he’d most likely doubt himself. you’re in a completely different car now. plus, your car was at your moms place. it definitely looked like you were over for a family dinner. you kept a mental note to yourself to schedule that car appointment.

you parked in a different spot than usual, but still in close proximity to be able to see through his apartment. you reach into your purse and grab the binoculars. you see jimin, clearly setting up for something. the rooms atmosphere felt different. the lighting was warm and inviting, candles on the counters and coffee table. you pan over to his room, rose petals on the bed. you grit your teeth angrily. jimin suddenly looks up ahead of him, a soft smile spreading across the face as he slowly stands up and approaches the woman coming out of the bathroom.

he wraps his arms around her, stuffing his face into her neck. what the fuck? you feel livid, but you can’t pull back. not yet. he spins her around, checking her out. the cherry red lingerie set she had on complimented her olive toned complexion, her chocolate brown curls falling down her shoulders and back effortlessly. you immediately decided to yourself that you didn’t like her. you kept watching regardless. after he spun her around, she grinned and wrapped her arms around him lovingly. the energy quickly shifted however as he grabbed onto her wrist and began slowly making his way into the bedroom, tugging her along behind him. she began crawling onto the bed, laying flat on her back.

he gently closed the door and walked over to her before climbing on top of her. an entire makeout session between the two broke out. you didn’t move, watching as they began slowly stripping away their clothes. he made out with her the same way he made out with you. intense, hot, like he’d starve to death if he didn’t get enough of your taste.

in what seemed like seconds, he was already inside of her. he began fucking her in a missionary position, making your blood boil. you hated the fact that you were witnessing this. of all fucking days. you scoff. you also hated the fact that the desire to masturbate still lingered inside of you. you slid your hand down your work pants, teasing your clit as you watched your ex make love to a woman you had never seen before. you felt angry and began taking out this anger on yourself, knowing that going up there and confronting him just wasn’t an option.

you fingered yourself roughly, the wetness of your insides quickly coating your fingers. jimin stopped and lifted her up, carrying her through the living room and to the kitchen. he placed her onto one of the counters facing away from you. his bare back was facing you now. the only thing you could see was her legs poking out from the sides of him. you still couldn’t believe what you were witnessing. a part of you got off to it, and another part of you felt angry.

he slammed himself against her. this went on for a few more minutes and you felt yourself about to cum. when you finally did, your body entered a relaxed state. the desire to cum was no longer there and anger took full control of your body now. you keep your binoculars on them, fuming at how he dared to make love to another person. someone that wasn’t you. without moving the binoculars, you reach your free hand into your bag and grab your phone.

you scroll to your camera and level your phone up with the binoculars, zooming in and snapping dozens of photos of the pair in various positions. you saw jimin stand and stiffen up, jerking himself above her and trying to induce an orgasm.

you quickly throw the binoculars onto the floor and start the car, backing up and speeding off out of the neighborhood.

[nouverx]

Compilation of all the smol Vash that I drew 💫

All from various tumblr requests

[arolesbianism]

I've been thinking abt my critter dupes some more and it was all fun and games until I remembered that I made Mi-ma a beeta and hm. Whoops. Uh oh. (<- Considered the implications for more than 2 seconds)

[s0dium]

Victoria Secret

A/n: For all my Geto lovers, i made sure the fucking was extra juicy. Enjoy!

Synopsis: Your secret indulgence? Buying lingerie. You've managed to keep this "hobby" under wraps until your worst nightmare, Geto Suguru, discovers your secret. Unexpectedly, he proposes a deal: he'll keep your secret, in exchange you help set up his friend Gojo with your roommate, and after that he will even buy you ten sets of your favorite lingerie. There’s just one catch—you have to model them for him. What could go wrong?

"W-what are you doing?" You manage to gasp but Geto just kisses the hollow of your throat. "Why? Do you want me to stop?" He murmurs against your skin. And you know you should say yes, but you shake your head. Like a fool. "Good girl."

Warnings: Teasing, praising, body worship, nipple play and sucking, soft-to-rough sex, unprotected sex, breeding

Word count: 5.5

Every Sunday, at precisely three in the afternoon, you sneak out of your apartment for what you call your "secret indulgence."

Your eyes gaze at the velvet-lined shelves, mentally dissecting the lace and silk items that sit on the red fabric. A familiar, gentle melody fills the boutique, playing overhead as soft light casts a warm glow on the meticulously displayed delicate fabrics. As you run your fingers over each fabric laid before you, you stop when you find one that feels like a whisper against your skin.

This one is perfect.

Carefully you hold the item up on either side, feeling the fabric between your index finger and thumb. Intricate floral patterns cover the lace material and you note the high-waisted cut and scalloped trim that would certainly flatter your figure. You hum in contentment. Yes, this piece of underwear will go perfectly with your collection.

Your "secret indulgence" you may ask? It is collecting lingerie.

Your indulgence was secret for a reason as well. Far too often people assumed that you collected lingerie for a boyfriend or even an audience, but it wasn't like that at all. In fact, it was the opposite, you collected lingerie for you. It wasn't like you never thought about trying it on for someone though, you just never seemed to have an opportunity too. Unlike many of your peers, you're not a social butterfly, never one to attend college parties or gatherings. Even your best friend Shoko has to drag you out of your room every once in a while. Yet, ever since you can remember, there's something about lingerie that captivates you—perhaps it's the delicate lace, the intricate patterns, or how damn good you looked in it. You were simply in love with it.

And up until now, you were pretty damn sure your indulgence was perfectly secret as well.

"Y/n! Just the person I needed to see."

Oh what the fuck.

Your steps halt instantly at the sound of the familiar voice, freezing you in place. You didn't want to look back, you didn't need to look back, you knew who was behind you. You purse your lips as a rush of thoughts floods your mind: Had he seen you leaving the boutique? He wasn't a fool; surely, he'd deduce that the two bags you were clutching came from somewhere significant nearby.

Shit shit shit. Fuck it.

With a nervous bite to the inside of your cheek, you slowly turned around, facing the tall man behind you.

"Geto." You dead pan. There’s a tightness around your mouth, the corners pulled down just enough to betray your displeasure. The usual spark in your eyes is conspicuously absent, replaced by a guarded, cool glare that clearly communicates your discomfort at this encounter.

Geto smiles and takes a few steps toward you. Your first instinct is to step back but you stay in place, taking in his appearance. He's wearing a black tank top today, one that clings to his well-defined muscles and shows off the tattoos covering his arms. He pairs this with casual grey sweatpants that hang loosely around his hips and of course, his long black hair is partially tied up in a man bun like it usually is, while the rest cascades down his back.

Of course he looks good.

Thin sharp black eyes scan you before landing on the two bags you are clutching. His smile grows. You know you're fucked. The last person you needed to uncover your secret.

"Enjoy your shopping?" He chuckles, nodding to the bags and you harshly bite your lip.

"Just some clothes for the summer" You respond dryly, making sure to be heard over the bustling people around you.

"Ah, you don't have to keep secrets from me." Geto chuckles and he gestures to the tattoo and piercing shop across the street. "You know I work there right? I see you go into the little shop every Sunday."

No. No, you did not know that.

You pause before speaking again. "Can I help you with something Geto?"

"Actually, yes you can. I need a favor."

"Favor?" Your eyebrows raise and you scoff. "What could I possibly help you with."

Geto smiles and takes another step forward. "I know we aren't friends, but Shoko is your best friend and she is also mine so I thought maybe we could benefit each other a bit."

You dont respond this time and he continues.

"My best friend, Gojo, im sure you know him."

You have to fight to hide the disgust on your face upon hearing the white-haired man's name. Of course, you knew Gojo, every one on campus knew Gojo, you specifically for the amount of girls he has "toyed" with.

"Yes, I know who the fuck Gojo is." You roll your eyes and you notice Geto has taken another step forward, effectively closing the distance between you two.

"Well, he is head over heels for your room mate-"

"Head over heels or just want to fuck her." You sarcastically snap back, cutting Geto off.

"Is there any difference these days?" he replies, a slight smirk playing at the edges of his lips, challenging the cynicism in your tone.

"And you want me to do what, exactly? Set her up with him? No way," you snap back, your voice rising slightly in indignation. "She's my friend, and I'm not some kind of matchmaker. Gojo can go screw himself."

"No, no, that's not what I'm saying at all," Geto quickly interjects, holding up his hands in a gesture of peace. "I'm just asking you to let her know that he's available, that he likes her. Just make him out to be an option, you know? Your roommate can do whatever she wants with that information."

"Still, why would I want to do that?" you question, your eyebrows knitting together in confusion and frustration. The warmth of the afternoon seems to intensify the tension between you as Geto steps closer, diminishing the gap until he's just inches away.

"Because in exchange, I'll buy you anything you want," he offers, his voice low and persuasive.

"Um, what?" Your response comes out more as a reflex than anything else.

"Let me rephrase that," he continues, nodding slightly towards the bag of lingerie you're holding, which causes your cheeks to flush with embarrassment. "I’ll buy you what you really want."

"No," you retort firmly, feeling the discomfort rise.

"No?" He echoes, his tone a mix of amusement and disbelief.

"Yes, no. Besides, I'm not strapped for cash. I can buy what I want whenever I want—"

"Didn't I tell you you don't have to lie to me?" Geto cuts in, his voice lowering a bit. "Please, I know how expensive that store is, and I'm not offering just one thing. Say, how about 10 sets from that store you love?" he declares, his eyes flashing with a mix of challenge and amusement.

"10? Can you even afford that?" you retort skeptically, your eyebrows arching in disbelief. This game of his was becoming more intriguing and absurd by the minute.

He leans back, a smug smile playing on his lips. "Oh, and I have to go shopping with you and see you try it on," he adds, as if the deal wasn’t provocative enough.

"Why the hell would you want to do that?" You feel the tips of your ears grow red and you scoff. The idea of Geto Suguru choosing lingerie for you sounds so personal sends a shiver down your spine.

"Because," he pauses, his gaze intense, "its not about buying you lingerie, Consider it… a test of trust, can't just give you hundred of my dollars and let you do whatever you want, I want to make sure you use the money the way our deal assures you will which is... buying lingerie."

You pause, absorbing his words, the heat of the afternoon sun pressing down on you, making the moment feel even more surreal. "Fine. We follow each other on Instagram, so I'll DM you when it's done. But like you said, it's up to her what she wants to do with that information."

"Alright by me. See you soon," he replies, his tone casual yet carrying an underlying note of finality.

As you turn away, walking down the busy street, your mind races with the absurdity of the conversation.

What the hell just happened?

Your fingers hesitated over the blue send button, poised to confirm the completion of your part of the unusual bargain.

Earlier, you had shared with your friend the prospect of a date with Gojo Satoru, carefully omitting the details of the deal behind it. As expected, she was ecstatic, thrilled by the idea despite Gojo's questionable reputation—a fact that gnawed at your conscience. But what could you do? The arrangement was already in motion. Now, it was time to let Geto know that you had held up your end of the agreement, and it was his turn to fulfill his promise.

You took a sharp breath through your nose and pressed down on the screen, watching as the word "delivered" appeared beneath your message in the chat. Just as you were about to set the phone aside and start getting ready for bed, it pinged with a new message. It was from Geto Suguru. Your heart raced as you read the simple words.

When do you want to meet?

The sun blazes down as you approach your favorite boutique, the heat making the pavement shimmer like a mirage. Despite the sweltering temperature, you've donned a big, baggy sweater over your shorts—a choice more about comfort and less about fashion, especially since you didn’t want this meeting to scream 'date'. It’s your casual armor, albeit a warm one on a day like today.

As you near the boutique, you spot Geto Suguru waiting by the entrance. He leans casually against the wall, dressed in some graphic t-shirt and black jeans, his eyes hidden behind a pair of dark sunglasses. This time his hair is completely up in a man bun that shows off his black gauge earrings and hints of a tattoo on his back. The moment he sees you, his lips curve into a knowing smile, as if he can read your thoughts about the outfit.

"Hey," he greets, pushing off from the wall to stand upright. His voice is smooth, a calm contrast to the bustling street around you. "I was starting to think you were gonna bail."

"And miss a chance at free money? I think not." you quip. "Hope Gojo enjoyed his date by the way." Sarcasm drips from your words and Suguru chuckles.

"Probably not as much as I'm gonna enjoy this." he counters smoothly. "Come on," he says, gesturing towards the boutique's door. "We got some shopping to do."

The moment you walk through the boutique doors, cool air hits you in refreshing waves, making you sigh with relief. The boutique interior sparkles with delicate lighting and the gentle clinking of hangers, an ambiance you know and love all too well. You notice that the store is unusually quiet today, with no other customers around—just the shop owner standing by the cashier, who flashes you a small, welcoming smile as you enter. As you step further, your eyes lock onto a stunning pink lingerie set draped elegantly on a mannequin right by the entrance. Its intricate lace and delicate details shimmer under the boutique’s soft lighting, radiating an aura of both luxury and temptation. It's new, and most definitely pricy.

"You’re staring," Geto observes with a smirk, catching you in your admiring glance.

"I'm appreciating," you correct him, the corner of your lips twitching upwards. The price tag hanging from the mannequin does nothing to deter you; it's clearly on the pricier side, but today, Geto’s wallet is on the line. "And since you’re offering, I think I’ll indulge."

Geto's laughter fills the air, playful and unbothered. "I should’ve known you'd go for the gold. Well, it’s your day. Let’s make my pockets weep then," he says, gesturing grandly towards the set.

Who were you to deny him?

You dive into the racks, your fingers grazing over silks and satins, selecting the most exquisite pieces you lay your eyes on. One by one, you gather a collection of lingerie sets—each more lavish than the last. There’s a daring scarlet set that promises to captivate, a royal blue ensemble that speaks of deep oceans, and a classic black lace number that's timeless in its elegance. By the time you're done, nine luxurious sets accompany the initial pink one on the counter.

Geto watches with a mixture of admiration and apprehension as the pile grows, his eyebrows raising slightly at each new addition. But he doesn’t protest; instead, he engages in light banter with the shop owner, who carefully folds each set into sleek boutique bags.

As the total rings up—a sum that makes even the shop owner blink twice—you don’t look away from Geto's face, watching for any sign of regret or hesitation. None comes. He simply pulls out his black card, the smirk never leaving his lips as he hands it over.

The transaction goes through with a soft beep, and you can’t help but feel a thrill of victory as he signs the receipt. You reach out to grab the bags and head toward the door, already planning where each piece will go in your wardrobe, when Geto’s voice stops you.

"Where do you think you’re going? We still have the other part of the deal, remember?" he says with no attempt to hide the amusement in his voice.

Geto's reminder hangs in the air, the playful edge in his voice more pronounced now. As realization dawns on you, you let out a low groan, remembering the full scope of the deal. "Oh," you say, hesitance hanging from your voice. "Right, the 'trying on' part."

"Exactly," he grins broadly. "Come on, my car is parked outside."

"HAH! You think I'm going to your house?" you scoff, raising an eyebrow in mock disbelief.

"Why not? Or can we go to yours?" he counters quickly, his grin turning into a challenging smirk.

You bite the side of your cheek. Your place was an absolute mess right now and you don't think you can handle Geto Surguru in your room. "Fine, yours it is," you finally concede.

The drive to Geto's place unfolds in a tense silence, your gaze fixed on the cityscape sliding past the car window. Your heart pounds with a mix of dread and nerves, the quiet amplifying the whirlwind of thoughts in your head. There had to be a way to get out of this. The idea of layering your clothes under the lingerie flickers through your mind, but you dismiss it almost instantly—Geto would see right through that. The thought of making a daring escape through a bathroom window doesn't seem entirely out of the question, though it feels more like a scene from a comedy than a realistic plan.

As you mull over these scenarios, you wonder about Geto's intentions. Was this all just a game to him, a way to tease you? He'd watched you choose each piece with care, so there was no question of you running off with his money. Was this some weird way he got off?

Your so into your thoughts that you dont even realize your at Geto's door.

"Welcome to my humble abode," He says through a grin as he swings upon the door. Rolling your eyes at his grandeur, you step inside, instantly taken by the loft's undeniable charm. The space is open and airy, with high ceilings and large, sunlit windows that overlook the bustling city below. Exposed brick walls add a touch of urban cool, while modern art pieces dot the walls, giving the place a curated yet lived-in feel.

"The bathroom is over there," Geto points nonchalantly towards a sleek, sliding door on the far side of the room. His tone is casual, as if inviting you to try on clothes was an everyday occurrence. He saunters over to a plush couch, settling in comfortably. "You can start whenever you're ready."

Feeling a flutter of nerves, you clutch the bag of lingerie a bit tighter. "You want me to—to try on all of them?" Your voice barely hides your anxiety.

"Nah, just two or three," he responds, his voice calm and nonchalant as he picks up a magazine from the coffee table.

With your heart pounding so loudly you're sure he can hear it, you make your way to the bathroom. The cool, modern aesthetics of the loft seem to blur as your mind races. Was this just a fucking joke to him?

As the door closes behind you, you set your bags down on the bathroom floor.

Holy shit Holy shit Holy shit.

You were going to die, this was it. You were going to die out of embarrassment because of god damn Geto Suguru. Your face burns a deep shade of red, heart racing as you lean against the cool, marble sink. Fuck, you're overwhelmed, your thoughts a tumultuous whirl, but you know you need to pull yourself together. Yes, the task is simple: pick two sets of lingerie, try them on, and get this ordeal over with. Just two sets, then you can leave. That's all.

Peeking through a slight crack in the bathroom door, you see Geto lounging effortlessly on the couch, casually flipping through a magazine as if he hasn't a care in the world. A quiet curse escapes your lips at his composure— god you hated him.

Turning back to the task at hand, you rummage through the bag containing the 10 pieces of lingerie. Each piece is stunningly beautiful, making the choice unexpectedly difficult. The last thing you wanted was to make it seem like you where trying to impress him. After a moment's hesitation, your hands settle on a set of black lace lingerie—bold but the plainest out of all of them.

Slipping into the black lace, you feel the fabric glide smoothly over your skin. The lace is intricate, delicate yet firm, offering a sensation that is both luxurious and comforting. As it settles into place, you notice how perfectly it cups your breasts, enhancing your natural shape without discomfort. The fabric molds to your body, sculpting your curves in a way that boosts your confidence, even in such a vulnerable moment.

Turning to face the mirror, you take a moment to really look at yourself. The lingerie accentuates your figure beautifully—your waist appears slimmer, your hips more pronounced. Yes, this was exactly what you loved about lingerie, how it made you look and more importantly how it made you feel. Despite the situation, you can't help but feel a surge of self-assurance. It's a small victory, but in this moment, it's enough to steady your nerves.

Now was the hard part.

Slowly you step out of the bathroom, your heart pounds fiercely in your chest, echoing in your ears. The moment the door clicks shut behind you, Geto's attention shifts from his magazine to you. He lays the magazine aside, his gaze instantly locking onto you. His eyes rake up and down your figure, taking in every detail of the black lace lingerie that clings to your curves.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Geto muses, a teasing grin playing on his lips. "If it isn't the bravest fashion model of our time."

"S-shut up," you stammer, trying to mask your discomfort with irritation. "Just remember, I'm only doing this because of the deal."

"Oh, and you're doing it magnificently, may I add. Who knew you hid such bold taste under that sweater."

"It's just underwear, don't read too much into it," you retort, your cheeks warming under his scrutiny.

"Turn for me," he commands softly. "I want to see the back."

"What?" you falter, caught off guard.

"Turn for me, I want to see behind," he repeats more firmly.

Fuck it.

Reluctantly, you turn, exposing the delicate lace detailing on the back.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, almost to himself, his gaze lingering appreciatively on the design.

"What?" you ask, your voice wavering slightly—unsure if you're more startled by the compliment or by the intimacy of his tone.

"Nothing, baby," he responds, his hand dismissively waving as he looks away, pretending to refocus on something else in the room. "Go try on the next one."

You dont say anything, instead slipping back into the bathroom and rummaging through the bag. Your heart still thumps audibly in your chest, but now there's an undercurrent of excitement mixed with the nerves. The flutter in your chest isn't just from anxiety though; it's also from a burgeoning sense of empowerment. You realize that you have control over how you present yourself, a certain power over Sugruru.

After discarding the set you were wearing, you reach into the bag and pull out the pink set you splurged on earlier. The fabric is luxurious, with a hint of sheerness to the bra that would no doubt show your nipples. The underwear is equally bold, designed as a thong with delicate straps that loop around each thigh, highlighting the curves of your hips and legs.

As you slip into the pink lingerie, the fabric settles against your skin like a whispered secret. The sheer material of the bra makes you acutely aware of your own body, and as you adjust the straps around your thighs, the ensemble frames your form in a way that feels almost artistically deliberate.

Yes, just after this you would be done. So why not go out with a bang?

As you step out of the bathroom, the transformation in your demeanor is palpable. The delicate pink lingerie accentuates your confidence, which resonates with each step you take towards Geto. His eyes lift to meet yours, and the moment they travel down to take in the full view, his expression shifts dramatically to one of... shock? His usual composure falters, and he lets out a low, incredulous whistle.

"Jesus Christ," he breathes out.

You shift in place, playing with the silk hem of your underwear.

After a moment, he composes himself slightly and gestures towards him with a slight tilt of his head. "Come here," he says softly, his voice low and inviting.

You pause, the hesitation clear in your stance. The intensity in his gaze and the palpable tension in the air make your heart race even faster.

Seeing your reluctance, Geto's expression softens. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes never leaving yours. "Please," he adds, a hint of something more vulnerable in his tone this time.

The room seems to pulse with the silent energy between you as you take a tentative step forward, then another, drawn by the magnetic pull of his gaze. The air thickens with a charged mix of anticipation and desire as you finally stop just a breath away from him.

He looks up at you, standing up from his seat, his gaze intense yet tender. "You look incredible," he murmurs. You flinch when you feel his hand his finger trace your jaw and his other hand play with the hem of your lace underwear. He bends down, his lips just grazing your cheek, a feather-light touch that sends shivers down your spine, making your entire body quiver. "If you want me to stop, say it now," he whispers. When you remain silent, he brushes his mouth against the hollow of your temple. "Or now." He traces the curve of your cheekbone. "Or now." His lips meet yours.

For a moment your so shocked that he kissed you, you don't do anything. It feels like you are having an out-of-body experience like you can't believe this as actually happening to you. Then in a matter of seconds, his lips move against yours and you melt. Suguru is gentle at first, then unyieldingly hard. You feel yourself falling —not just physically, but emotionally too. You open for him and his tongue snakes its way inside your mouth. His hands move from your face to your lower back as he pulls you toward him, closing whatever space was left between you. He pushes you against him as he deepens the kiss. One of his hands remains on your hip, while the other travels to cup your breasts.

"W-what are you doing?" You manage to gasp but Geto just kisses the hollow of your throat."

"Why? Do you want me to stop?" He mumbles against your skin. And you know you should say yes, but you shake your head. Like a fool.

"Good girl."

Without a warning, Geto sweeps you up in his arms with an ease that leaves you breathless, carrying you effortlessly across the room to his bed.

Geto stands over you, his eyes tracing the contours of your body splayed elegantly across his bed.

"Shit baby, you let anyone else see you like this?"

You thickly gulp and shake your head.

"Oh thank god." He murmurs, climbing over you to place light kisses along your neck, trailing down your chest. Each kiss is soft yet deliberate, sending a cascade of warmth through your entire body. You close your eyes, allowing yourself to be fully immersed in the sensation.

"Your skin feels like silk," he murmurs.

"Did you steal that line from a hallmark card?" You crack.

"Nope just stating a fact." He skims the underside of your bra with his fingers. "Always watched you come out of the store, always wanted to see how you'd look in what you bought." He lifts his head to give you a wry look "You're so smooth and perfect you know that right?"

You let out a soft gasp when his lips find your nipple, pulling your lacy bra down so soft lips can evoke your nub.

"Oh god sugu-" He doesn’t let you get to the last consonant, his eager, hot mouth enveloping one of your nipples and sucking. His tongue flattens, rolling your peak and swirling around your areola, fast and rough until you’re whining. His ears go hot at the sounds you’re making, all desperate and needy.

"So beautiful, fuck your tits are so beautiful" He groans into your skin like it was cocaine. He then switches to your other breast, sucking and licking until he knows you will be sore. Jesus, your breasts feel so good in his mouth, so soft and sweet, why didn't he do this sooner? How much longer did he think he could maintain this facade of being your 'enemy' when all he truly desired was to have you underneath him?

You are squirming underneath him now, the stimulation of his wet tongue on your nipple is becoming unbearable and so was the growing heat between your legs. Your tits feel so good in his mouth, supple, sweet, far better than his imagination could ever conjure

"God, sugu-"

"Love it when you say my name." Suguru breaths between licks and you feel your stomach twist with.

"Sugu please" you manage to gasp, "please touch me please anything please-"

"Fuck you?" Suguru coos, and the words make warmth blossom from your core.

"Please." You breath.

And who was he to deny you?

Without much of a word he pulls your lace panties down to your ankles, making you instinctively hide your bare cunt with your hands, but he clicks the roof of his mouth with his tongue and swats your fingers away. Then, as he stands over you, Suguru steps out of his black pants and pulls off his t-shirt. As you glimpse Suguru, you feel your breath get caught in your throat. His large, incredibly toned frame is a clear testament to rigorous workouts, and intricate tattoos weave across his skin, adding to the attraction.

You were no longer in the kiddie pool.

You are too immersed in his figure that you dont even notice he has lowered down his black boxers just enough so his long length springs out and slaps against his abdomen.

You thickly gulp.

"I dont think that will-" You stammer, the sheer size or his dick making your gut twist and turn. "I think it will hurt I dont think it will-" As you continue to stammer, searching for the right words, Geto cuts you off with a deep, consuming kiss that immediately shuts you up. When he finally pulls back, a confident smirk plays on his lips.

"It will, baby, it always does," he murmurs, his voice low and dark.

Geto positions himself atop you, his strong legs straddling either side of your body, anchoring him in place. He leans over you, the intensity of his gaze capturing yours as he methodically entwines his fingers with yours. With a firm but gentle grasp, he pins your hands down on either side of your body, his proximity reducing the world to the space between you. The warmth of his breath brushes against your face, his presence both overwhelming and exhilarating, as he holds you there under him, completely in control yet tender in his touch.

Before you can even get a word in, you gasp when you feel large pressure against your hole.

"Slowly baby," he hushes you before you can protest. "I'll go slowly."

Suguru's slow roll of hips hips into you is enough to make you scream. The way his dick parts your walls and fills every single inch of you makes your brain go hazy, especially when his tip smooshes against your cervix, sending blots of electricity throughout your body.

"Talk to me baby," Suguru murmurs, his voice cracking from the vice grip your cunt has on dick. "Want me to move?"

You're too lost in the hazy pleasure to form words, all you can do is nod, making Geto breathe out an air of what must be relief. His thrusts started out shallow and slow, testing the waters for how much he could get away with. What your limits were, and if you could fully take him for what he wanted.

You feel like you are going insane from the pleasure. Your cries came silent from your throat, eyes screwed shut in complete bliss. Your body adjusted rather quickly to him, Suguru coaxing you to relax as he peppers kisses along your neck, sucking and biting your sensitive skin. And as you adjusted, your hips began to buck against him at their own pace, beckoning him to move faster.

Of course, Suguru doesn't miss this, and without missing a beat he speads up his thrusts, the pap pap pap of his skin against your echoing in your ears

"Shit, you feel so good baby." Geto practically whines. You don't know it, but he's starting to lose his grip, the overwhelming pleasure beginning to unravel his usual composure.

The delicious friction of his dick scrapping your walls has your heart pounding in your ears and your breath close to hyperventilating. Everything is too much too good all at once. The proximity of Geto's body is overwhelming, his warm skin against yours, his ragged breath hot against your neck. When you gaze into his face, the sight nearly makes you faint—his eyes scrunched shut, lost in euphoria, beads of sweat lining his black hairline. His mouth is slightly open, panting, a sight that makes your cunt flutter from excitement.

"Su-Suguru, so good you're fucking me so good." you babble and he can only groan in response. Your toes curled and uncurled as he continued to wreck your body with his completely brutal thrusts. The pain of him hitting the tip of your cervix nearly every time mixed with the kisses he peppered on your neck and lips was all enough to end you to heaven.

He knows you're close. And you know it too. The way Suguru is fucking you is truly a primal display of affection; him rutting into your cunt like an animal in heat and you frantically scratching and clawing at his back.

Thats when an idea hits you, no, a need overcomes you, You need Suguru, you need all of him, all of him inside you filling you up and making you his.

"Sugu cum in me please," you beg through a hoarse voice. "Fill me up please please please."

He’s been pressing kisses and biting into your shoulder, but you don’t miss the way he practically whines at your words.

"Course baby, course I will."

As if on cue, you feel your seize up and your mind go blank. It feels like your body is free falling into a euphoric grave, electric arrows of pleasure coursing through your sin and directly to your core.

"Oh shit" Suguru curses at the way your cunt clamps down on him and it isnt to long before he follows you, shooting thick ropes of cum straight into your belly. In a fluid motion without leaving your insides once, he picks you up so you are straddling him, and his bare chest is pressed against yours.

“You’re so warm,” he murmurs into your ear. And you can only sigh in response.

'I'll buy you 1000 more lingerie sets if we can do this again."

[rosiereveries]

Part two of the secret Santa with CEO!JohnPrice drabble that I wrote Part one CW: smut, rough sex, unprotected sex, doggy style, little power imbalance, reader is a female

You carefully knock on his office door hoping that he has already left. The whole secret Santa was a stupid idea that your colleagues came up with, and everyone got mediocre gifts except you. Your boss John Price bought you some expensive perfume, you didn’t even know the brand, but you could tell that it cost a fortune, and a pearl necklace that was beautiful. You know that keeping these gifts is not right, he must have bought them for someone else and he had to accidentally change the presents. You were sure he had some socks and coffee mug prepared for you.

Even though you could see how satisfied he was when you open your gift. And the fact that he called you his good girl in front the whole office made your stomach turn. It’s been so long since someone made you blush that much. That is why you went to his office in the first place, to make sure you return the gift.

When you hear quiet “come in” you know that you must face him. You slowly open the door and find him sitting behind his table with a surprised face. He didn’t expect you to come. “Something wrong with your present doll?” he asks, and you start to explain that you can’t keep the gift, that you are sure it was not meant for you. He simply asks if you had a chance to try on the necklace. You shake your head no and he walks behind you taking the necklace from your shaking hands.

It’s been a while since someone touched you so gently and there is something so intimate about the way he gathers your hair and pushes them away, so he has unlimited access to your neck. You can feel his breath next to your ear and you realize he stands too close to you. He turns both of you, so you stand next to the mirror he has in his office, and you see the hunger in his eyes.

One second, he is looking at you and the next he is lightly kissing your neck. “Tell me to stop now or I won’t” he says, and you just nod for approval. “Words honey, I need you to tell me that you want this as much as I.”

“Please Mr. Price” you whimper. That is all he needs to hear. John’s hands are everywhere. He pulls the top of your dress lower so he can touch you breasts while he starts to rub his hard dick in your ass. He sucks at your neck, and you know that you will have hickeys, and you will have to wear a turtleneck tomorrow.

When he is done with your neck, he turns your head, and he kisses you. It is wild, his tongue is immediately in your mouth, and he doesn’t let you have breaks for breaths. John pulls your skirt up pushing his hand in your stockings and he touches you through your panties.

“You’re so wet for me darling, and I barely even touch you” You can hear the ripping of your stockings and suddenly he pushes you onto his desk pushing your legs apart so he can have access to your pussy. He pulls your panties to your knees, and you blush when you remember what pair you put on in the morning. A pink cotton panties with a little bow, you didn’t expect anyone to see them tonight.

“So pretty and just for me,” he says, and you can feel his breath at your clit, “but unfortunately I don’t have time to eat you out, but don’t worry we will make time the next time you see me.” By this point you are needy mess who just want him to fuck you.

You can hear him unzipping his pants and then you finally feel his dick at your opening. He starts to push in slowly, groaning and moaning into your ear. He is thick and long, and you feel so full. You didn’t have a partner for some time now and he fills you up so nicely.

“You’re doing great love, just keep taking me in” he says and when he finally pushes his whole dick inside you, you feel so full. It is so overwhelming and he’s not even moving yet. He sets up a harsh and rough tempo fucking into you with his hips and the whole desk starts to shake.

John is practically laying on you, he has you pinned on the desk, and you can feel his full weight on yourself. “Fuck I am going to cum, be a good girl and let me come inside” You don’t even know if you could tell him no, you are so close chasing your own release.

When his fingers lightly rub your clit, you break. It is one of the most powerful orgasms you have had. You can feel him cumming inside of your pussy and you’re grateful that you are on the pill.

After some time when he just lays on you, he gently pulls out of you and helps you to clean. “Such a good girl for me isn’t you” John makes sure that you look decent before he walks out of the office with you. He helps you to his car and drives your home. He walks you to your door and says, “Just don’t tell HR and we can keep up with the fun.”

The next morning when you walk to your desk you find a small package there. When you open it there are earrings, matching pair to the necklace you got yesterday. There is also a note that says: Be a good girl and come up to my office during my lunch break.

Part three Masterlist

[nanaslutt]

At your mercy

ʚ pairing: sylus x reader

ʚ cont: fem reader, switch!sylus & reader, “good boy” kink, dirty talk, teasing, restraints, riding, masturbation, finger sucking, nipple play

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

“So…” You drawl, prowling around Sylus like a predator. He’s strapped to a chair, his arms bound behind his back while his legs are secured around the legs of the chair, spread wide. “How does it feel to be the one tied up and at my mercy?” Your foot presses between his spread legs, and his hips leave the chair as he scoots down, giving you more access between them.

Tilting his head back, his crimson gaze rakes down the length of your leg hungrily. “I’m at your mercy now?” He hums a thoughtful sound, gaze laser focused on your heel clad foot that slowly inches towards the bulge between his thighs. “Have you thought to consider I’m allowing myself to be at your mercy?”

Narrowing your eyes, you place your foot back on the ground and stand between his legs. You reach out to touch his chest, finger trailing from the column of his pale neck to where the first button of his shirt is undone. He gasps. “You do look like someone who is awfully willing to submit, right now.”

He laughs, but it sounds breathy when you teasing undo the buttons down his torso. Each scrape of your nails against sensitive skin makes his breath hitch. “Perhaps I’m being so still because the look on your face is too sweet to ruin. You look awfully confident right now, kitten.” 

You hum, peeling open his shirt and pulling it out from where it’s tucked into his pants. It flares out, exposing his impossibly defined abs, and a chest that is rising and falling too quickly, betraying his calm demeanor. But you could tell his impatience from the bulge in his pants as well–and from how he was spreading his legs wider, he wasn’t ashamed of his reaction. “Having the leader of Onychinus like this…”

A half sigh half grumble vibrates in his throat when you undo the belt around his hips, clanking noisily in his quiet room, save for the soft music playing on vinyl in the background. “Heady? Your cheeks are flushed.”

His hips raise when you slide the belt through the loops, gathering it in your hands before discarding it to the floor. “You should see yourself.” He watches with rapt attention as you lean in and brush a finger over his pert nipple. He gasps at the featherlight touch, abdomen clenching. “You’re even red here.”

Sylus grunts, and the excitement in his pants twitches hard enough to be shown through his dark pants. With each touch, his eyes grow more lidded, until he almost looks tired, but you know he’s anything but. 

Flicking your finger over his nipple for the last time, he grunts and jerks against his restraints when you pull away. “Sensitive?” You ask.

His smirk is dizzying. “I enjoy everything you do to me.”

With a mischievous look on your face, you wrap your arms around his waist and settle into his lap. His reaction is immediate. His deep groan finds its way to your core, making you clench around nothing. You can feel him so clearly under you, throbbing and twitching like crazy.

Lust filled eyes meet yours. “Getting excited? I thought this was supposed to be torturous for me?” He gasps, lips parting when you roll your hips against his bulge, trying not to show how much it affects you.

“So this isn’t? Me grinding on you like this, knowing we're so close, yet so far…” You lean in and lower your voice, speaking against the shell of his ear. “Knowing I’m dripping for you and you can do nothing about it, because I am in control… That isn’t torturous?”

When he doesn’t respond, you pull back and smile at the drunk look on his face. All teasing is gone, the look he gives you is almost scary, intimidating, and if he wasn’t restrained, you might have lost confidence. But you were in charge, so he could stare at you with pleading looks filled with dark promises all he wanted.

He parts his lips when you lean in, expecting a kiss, but you divert to his neck instead, laying kiss after kiss in his most sensitive points. He groans, and you can feel the vibrations pressed against you. His hips thrust upwards, and it feels too good to reprimand him verbally, so you instead sink your teeth into his skin. 

His reaction is immediate. He laughs through a groan, biceps straining when he struggles. “So rough, kitten.” He thrusts his hip upwards again, and you respond with another bite. He grunts, gasping heavily. “So that’s it, this is my punishment for being greedy.”

Pulling away, your lips feel swollen when you look down at him. “And you’re not being a very good boy.” He groans at the name, and something inside your head clicks open and malfunctions. 

Sylus. The leader of Onychinus, just moaned at being called a good boy.

“You moved on purpose because you wanted me to bite you, didn’t you?” You ignored the feeling of losing control in your mind, pretending to have composure and not give away that you had probably soaked through your panties.

Sylus cocks his head to the side, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Pinching his chin, you tilt his head upwards, fingers finding his neglected nipple at the same time. His stuttered, deep groan and half eye roll nearly makes you cum. “Good boy’s don't lie, Sylus.”

He smiles, and he looks ruined. “Then punish me. I’ve been bad.”

It took an insurmountable amount of strength not to whip his dick out and sit on it in one go. He had to be punished first.

He groaned when you slid off his lap, purposefully pressing down on him while you did. Then, you dropped to your knees and parted his thighs. “Careful kitten, you don’t look like you’re getting ready to punish me down there.”

You smiled, not diverting your eyes away even while your fingers found his fly and unzipped it. His legs twitched. You pulled his slacks down a few inches, with his help of him raising his hips. They sat low on his ass, giving you just enough room to pull him out. But not before a little teasing.

You ran your fingers along the soft white hairs on his pelvis, dangerously closed to the half slack-half boxer covered monster in his pants. He thrust upwards, and you retaliated by pinching what little fat he had on the side of his hips, making his cock twitch.

“Pinching now?” He gasped, the deep baritone of his voice growing more gravely with his arousal.

You ran your hands up and down his muscled thighs, occasionally teasing his pelvis with your nails. “Down here didn’t seem to hate it so much.” Pressing the points of your nails against his naval, you scratched down his skin with little force, enough to leave red marks on his pale skin. His gasp was loud, followed by smaller grunts and heavy breathing. “Yeah, I don’t think you hate pain at all.”

He laughed at that, the sound expensive and rich. “I told you once before, kitten, I like everything you do to me. Scratch me, bite me, tease me, do whatever you want with me.”

Eyes on his, you dipped your fingers under the band of his boxers and grabbed the base of his cock. He inhaled sharply, like he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs fast enough. “Even if I don’t put this inside me tonight?”

His eyes flickered to your hand that pulled him out of his boxers, pants still on his waist. He looked good like this, half dressed and disheveled, with a drunk expression. “I’m not worried about that.” He replied confidently.

When you released him, he throbbed repeatedly, pearls of pre-cum beading on his tip before dripping onto his pants, leaving a sticky mess. “So confident.” Laying your head on his thigh just inches from his length. You caress his cock starting from the underside with a single finger, drawing it upwards until you reach the wet tip.

Sylus is breathing noisily now, chest rising quickly with his suppressed moans. His bottom lip gets pulled between his teeth when you rub his wetness around the head. “Does this feel good, Sylus?”

He smiles, and it’s a beautiful thing. “Very good, kitten. Your fingers are so soft.” His heavy arousal bobs in front of you when you continue to collect his wetness on your fingers. 

Pulling away, you sit back on your ass and spread your thighs, rubbing his pre together on the tips of your fingers. Sylus continues to spill on his pants, breathing heavily as he watches you. “What are you doing, sweetie?”

“You said my fingers were soft, I wanted to see for myself.” His lips part when you lift your dress and expose your panty-clad pussy to him, which is of course, soaked. You lift the band and slide your fingers in, not moving the fabric so he can see.

You groan in unison when you rub his mess around on your clit. Sylus struggles more now, looking pained to watch you touch yourself in front of him. 

You gasp, running your fingers through your folds, spreading your legs to give him no real view. “You were right, s–so soft.”

His eyes are glued to your cunt, biceps bulge with his incessant pulling at his restraints, and the pool of cum on his pants is now so big it looks like he already came all over himself. “I have much, much more where that came from, sweetie.” He purrs.

You dip your fingers inside, and he moans watching you, even if his view is muted through the fabric. “Fuck.”

“I could fill you with me.” He says, groaning though you don’t miss the plea in his tone. “Anything you want.” He says, before shaking his head. “I know it wants to feel me, such a hot little thing, begging for me to fill it.”

You gasp, plunging two fingers in and out of yourself. “Sylus.”

Sylus’s gasps are stuttered. “Yes, kitten, let me help you. Use me. Sit on me and take everything I have to give.”

You open your eyes and meet his gaze, realizing you probably look as needy as him now. 

He doesn’t look cocky when you pull your fingers out, though his fingers do lock onto them. He doesn’t even look triumphant when you spread your thighs around his hips and grip his base, pressing his soaked tip against your equally soaked entrance.

“What do you want?” You ask, gripping his cheeks with the hand you were masterbating with.

He grunts as you rub his tip through your folds, using him to rub your clit. “I want you to use me.”

You notch his head at your hole. “That’s it? Even if I finish before you and decide I don’t want your release? You'll take it?”

He nods, throat bobbing as he stares at your lips like a man starved. “Yes.” His voice is all gravel. “Use me.”

So you do.

Sliding onto him is bliss and agony, blending and swirling into pure relief in your gut. Sylus groans with you as you take him all at once, until you're seated on the mess of his pants. You don't spare a second before you hook your ankles on his thighs and start bouncing.

“Good boy,” you sigh, mess covered fingers slipping into his mouth. Sylus smiles around them before sucking, cleaning your fingers.

You impale yourself onto him over and over again, loving how good it hurts, loving how deep he fills you in his position. Your eyes roll back in your head and your head falls back. One hand steadies on his shoulder while the other pushes deeper into his mouth. He doesn’t even gag when you hit the back of his throat, but his eyes do water.

Yanking your fingers out, they’re sloppier than they were before, but Sylus has a big stupid grin on his face that wasn’t there before. “I could drown in you while you devour me.” Crimson eyes caress your face the way his hands would. “You look so beautiful taking what you need, what you deserve.”

“And what’s that?” You gasp, fingers finding your clit and rubbing hastily when his cock repeatedly thrusts into that sweet spot in your inner walls.

He leans in and whispers against your lips. “Everything.” Then, his mouth is on yours, and you devour each other. It’s a battle for dominance, one neither is winning nor losing, but its so aggressive and feral and needy, and you fucking love it.

His and your sounds slip from the cracks of your kiss, and the wetness on his thighs only makes you get there even faster.

Blindly reaching behind you, you dip your hand into his boxers and find his balls, pulling them out with his cock you cradle them in your hand. Sylus breaks from the kiss to hiss through his teeth.

You grab his jaw. “Bad boy, did I say you could stop kissing me?” He shakes his head, a proud expression on his face, lips curling up at the sides. “You said you would give me everything.” You whisper against him, rocking your hips in a wavelike motion, stoking that fire low in your stomach. “And you’re going to give it to me.”

Sylus nods, “Yes ma’am.” He huskily grunts, before taking your lips once more. The kiss is louder and more urgent than before, and saliva spills from your lips.

Rolling his balls in your hand, they quickly become wet with the two of you dripping from where you’re connected. With your finger between you and your hand on his neck, it doesn’t take much longer before you're tipping over the edge.

“Sylus!” You gasp, “H-help me.” 

You start to shake, orgasming around his cock, and he grunts, balls falling from your hands as you wrap your arms around his neck and let him fuck you through your orgasm.

“Can I cum?” He groans, hips losing their rhythm. “I need to stop now if I can’t cum.”

You shake your head, twitching and writhing from the prolonged high as his thrusts get rougher and rougher. “Give me it. Give me everything you have.”

His moans hitch, and a loud snapping sound makes you flinch. His arms are around you then, and hes using the leverage to lift you up and down as he fucks his cum inside you. His thrusts are sloppy and mean as he jerks and twitches wildly, fucking his orgasm as deep as he can inside you.

The two of you are holding each other tightly when he comes down. His thighs shake violently under you, and you can feel his cock throb inside you, softening with his released load.

“Are you alright, sweetie?” He whispers into your hair. You nod, nails digging into his back, and he grunts. “I hope you’re satisfied, because I think I really did give you everything just then.”

You laugh before pulling back, locking your legs around his waist. You both gasp when his cock jolts inside you. “Maybe I should, after all, you did break your restraints.” You raise an eyebrow at him with mock irritation.

He simply smiles, caressing stray hair from your face before tucking it behind your ear. “Do what you want with me, but don’t be surprised when you ring me out again and I’m dry.”

That makes you snort. “Would it hurt? To cum like that?” He goes to answer and you press your fingers to his lips. “I almost forgot about your fondness for pain.”

His laugh is deep, and it warms not only your heart but your entire body. Then, he leans back and gestures to his body. “As you wish.”

You laugh, falling into his chest as his humor blends with yours. You hold each other like that until the ache between your legs from him is too much, and he lifts you off.

[alphabetboyluvr]

habits of a clandestine nature | jjk

pairing: collegejk x female oc (angst, smut)

warnings: college!jk, rich!jk, he's a college nepo baby!!!, waitress!oc, flashbacks to summer, (mild) enemies to lovers, oc lives with tae (they're besties), jk is besties with jimin, mentions of parents infidelity, mentions of oc's virginity (lost prior to the story starting), a little angsty, jk is nawt a fuckboi, but he is stewpid, unprotected sex, bathroom escapades, multiple positions, oral (f), mentions of blowjobs, house parties, jackson wang!!!!!!!, yoongi has no lines but is also one of my fave characters lmao

wordcount: 16k

note from holly: this was written as a commission over on ko-fi!! it went through soooo many changes and edits - at one point it was over 24k lmao. i have so much lore and backstory for this couple, but I'll save it for a rainy day!! one of the main prompts was the 2004 classic a cinderella story, and there are little nods to it throughout the story, including the diner name!! a commenter on wattpad said the pairing reminded them of danny and sandy from grease and like... i see it lmao. anywaysss enjoy!! <33

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

It's a well-trained habit, your fleeting glance towards the door of Montgomery's Diner when the bell rings.

Though the clatter of cheap porcelain being stacked on a tray almost manages to drown out the chiming metal, it's never quite enough. Softening your hardened expression, you continue on with your work, careful to not let your contempt show too much.

You already know who it is—or at least, who it could be. Only saw the girl leading the pack, but know that where Claudia goes, the rest of The Untouchables will surely follow.

Gorgeous in a way that money can't buy, and careless in a way that money makes up for, she's never taken personal issue with you. Barely even registers your existence.

From your quick look, you know that it's not just the girls today. It's the guys, too.

All with parents on the college board, they're regarded as campus royalty. Are aptly known as The Untouchables, 'cause the rules that apply to you don't apply to them. They'll likely continue with their lives in a similar manner for years to come, and will pass these attributes off to their offspring, whom they'll name after countries or distant relatives who were once regarded to be regal.

Gathering up the last of the discarded napkins on the table, you take one final, fleeting look just to see if a familiar face is with them.

It's not that you actively want to see him.

You just haven't seen him in the best part of a fortnight, which is odd.

He's been in your section of the Diner near enough every single night of the past three months—but school is starting up again, and he's got appearances to keep.

God-forbid Jeon Jungkook—son of the Admissions Director and heir-apparent to an unholy amount of real estate tied to the university—ever associates with the lowly scholarship kids like you.

The only reason The Untouchables ever come to this Diner is because it's the last remaining place close to the university that hasn't been snapped up and integrated into the campus. You guess it must feel like freedom to them, in a way.

In fact, you know this is the case. Jungkook has told you himself.

Has told you a lot.

Told you far too much.

Such candid honesty from him, shared during the lonely heat of a sweltering summer, is what makes it so jarring when he looks away as soon as his dark eyes meet yours.

Tall, broad, handsome; he's everything the gossip magazines you read during your downtime swoon over, but also everything they warn against. Too pretty for his own good, the resident agony aunt would call him if she were ever to see him. Would assume his ego is far larger than his shoe size; superiority complex embedded into his skin like the ink of his tattoos.

And while you think that perhaps those assumptions could be true, you also know the reality of him; how gentle his hands can be. Helpful, too. Delicate. Ornate, almost, when they fold bills into five petal flowers. Strong, when they grip the back of your neck. Commanding, when they're wrapped around his leather steering wheel.

You shouldn't know the way his car smells. Shouldn't know how he presses the heel of his palm against the wheel when he's reversing, or just how easy it is to clamber into the backseats over the centre console.

But you do, and it rests on your tongue like a dirty little secret desperate to escape: I know you.

You're not sure if you know him better than The Untouchables, but you know him independent of them. Not many people do.

It's rare to find him without Jimin cracking a joke by his side, or Claudia making a slightly mean remark masked as innocent ignorance as she leads him astray.

But summer happened, and so did Jungkook. With his friends away at their holiday homes, and his father's infidelity ripping his family apart at the seams, he'd needed something to stitch himself back together. Let you thread yourself through his very being, and once you'd tied yourself in a pretty little bow around his heart, he'd cut you off.

Is that not what all craftsmen do, though? Discard what no longer serves a purpose?

Memories of him, in all the places you never should have let him in, ravage your thoughts.

The scent of his aftershave lingers on the childhood plushie he used to tease you for having on your bed, but would also automatically hug into his chest every single time he entered your room.

The things he did—and the things he didn't do—corrupt your dreams and leave you restless when you wake.

The smudged mascara under your eyes hides the bags from your lack of sleep, and your only respite is that the little puffs beneath his eyes are extra prominent today. He's tried, too.

For a minute, you feel vindicated.

It doesn't last.

For the past few months, if he's been sleeping badly, you've known about it. Kept him company in this very Diner, or in the basement of a party house he was dumb enough to take you to, forgetting he'd have to return there after summer finished, too.

The walls might not talk, but Jackson Wang certainly does. Jungkook knows it's only a matter of time until his dirty little secrets—no matter how pure they actually are—become the talk of the town.

He always slept well in your bedroom, though.

Funny, that.

He's dressed simply, today: white t-shirt, black jeans, chunky black boots on his feet. It's still warm out, even if the sun does begin to set a little earlier than it had been during the hotter months. He's got no need for a jacket, and you despise how undeniably gorgeous his arms are in the dewy humidity. Tattoos trailing up and down his skin, you'd be forgiven for thinking he was a man of complexities.

Turns out he's just like every other good-for-nothing fuck boy who wasn't worth your time.

The Untouchables sit towards the front of the Diner. Your section is at the back, and there's no way in hell you're deviating from your set section. Not today. Not when he's with them.

"I thought we were free," your colleague, Maria, grumbles as you bring your tray to the counter.

Like you, she's a scholarship kid. Is the one who got you the job at the Diner after you both moved into the shared house you live in off-campus. Three of you live there—you, Maria, and Taehyung—and you all share the same disdain for The Untouchables.

"It never ends," you tease in reply. Glance over your shoulder, back at the table.

They're laughing and joking about something you can't quite decipher. All of them, except Jungkook.

There's a sternness to him. One of which you'd forgotten about. With one hand on the table, the other in his lap, his thumb fidgets over his tense knuckles. Sunglasses rest on the crown of his head, pushed up into his hair to hold it back off his face. Staring at nothing much, he's chewing up his bottom lip until he feels the familiar burn of your eyes on him. Looks your way.

It's curious, how looking at you halts his body from its self-soothing actions. He no longer nibbles on his lip. His tightly balled first eases.

"What do you think, Kookie?" Claudia drawls, drawing his attention back to the group. "You coming tonight?"

"Hm?" He questions, eyes pulling away from you. He begins to rub his thumb over his knuckles again. "Sorry, was just looking at the menu board. What are we talking about?"

"Party at the Conservatory," Jimin says from across the table. Though he's the one sitting beside Claudia, everyone knows Jungkook is the one that she's really interested in. Has been since their first day of college. "First of the semester. It's one of their birthdays. Reckon it'll be a big one."

On campus, but close enough to the boundaries that it's never infringed upon by security or university officials, the Conservatory isn't what it seems. A boarding house for the creme-de-la-creme of the Botany and Conservation PhD students, it's surrounded by land. Has rows upon rows of greenhouses for their projects.

Of the few times you've been there, you've always thought it was like a maze. The perfect place to get lost. The perfect place to get found, too.

Unfortunately for the PhD students, the house custodian took on the role for one thing and one thing only: to throw the biggest ragers on campus. Knows fuck all about growing anything that isn't illegal. Only managed to get the role, 'cause like the rest of The Untouchables, his dad works high up in the college. He's a few years older than them. Belongs to a different generation of campus royalty, but is keen on making sure his legacy remains.

After all, there ain't no party like a Jackson Wang party.

Namjoon—one of the Botanists and the birthday boy himself—has started padlocking the greenhouses.

Another one of them—Yoongi—minored in mechanical engineering. Has a coin-operated lock on his bathroom door. Makes enough money from a single Jackson Wang party to sustain himself for an entire month.

Hoseok and Jin, the remaining two, are just as messy as Jackson. Have only started PhDs because they don't know what else to do and don't want their youth to abruptly end. Live for the parties; survive for the studying.

"Now, who's told you that?" Jungkook smiles, as if the prospect of showing up at the Conservatory doesn't make him feel a little bit sick. "Jackson?"

"Obviously."

"Well, of course he's gonna tell you it'll be big," Jungkook laughs. "Wants to rope as many of you fuckers in as he can."

"And it works every time," Jimin smirks back. "If everyone thinks it'll be a rager, everyone will want to go. He's a marketing genius, if you ask me."

Jungkook rolls his eyes. Is fond in how he interacts with his friends. Has grown up with most of them. Whether or not they're everyones cup of tea is debatable, but they're his people.

And yet he finds himself glancing back over to the counter. You're not there anymore. Are out back, he assumes. Knows the layout, now. Where the walk-in freezer is. The little nook that you sit in during your break. He doubts any of his friends have ever been in a commercial kitchen, let alone one at a place like this.

While yes, his friends have only ever been good to him, he knows that it isn't the case for everyone they interact with. Is well aware that his friends would be confused beyond belief if they ever found out he knows how to click through the Diner's cash register and find the discount section. Would be even more perplexed if they were to see his initials hidden in one of the codes.

But summer was lonely.

Or at least it was.

Lonely, until it wasn't. Isolating, until he sought solace in someone he can't even bring himself to speak to in front of his friends.

Casting his eyes back down to the table, well aware that he's got no reason to feel as cut up as he does, he fakes a laugh. Looks up again at his friends with a grin so sincere that they'd never guess the way it feels like his heart is in his throat. "Alright. You're on. What time?"

The conversation dissolves into plans—what to wear, what drink to take.

After a summer apart, Jungkook thought it would be nice to be with his friends again. Thought he'd be excited; that he'd welcome them all back with open arms. Ask them about their summers, and lament his time spent here.

When Jimin asks him why he didn't go to the Italian villa his parents normally insist they spend the summer at, Jungkook shrugs.

"Dad has some stuff to sort out, so it was better to stay here," he says, minimising the reality of what really happened. Even you don't know for certain. All you know is that his father did something incredibly immoral, to the point where Jungkook can't even stand to look at him.

Is why he spent all those nights in the diner.

Was confusing at first. He was always angry. Always frowning. Always ordering black coffees and nothing else, huddled up in the corner booth, away from the world.

But with summer comes monsoons, and with monsoons come terrible conditions for walking home.

He expected you to say no when he offered you a ride. You expected to say no, too—but then a please and thank you had escaped your lips.

A routine grew. Habits formed.

Curious little thing, habits are. 21 days. That's all the time they take to develop.

Jungkook spent 63 days of summer with you in varying capacities. Enough time to learn a habit three times over.

The one that haunts him most is how it felt to have your hand beneath his on his gear stick. Finds the absence of you when he drives unbearable. Knows he's got no one to blame but himself; not just for creating distance, but also for minimising it in the first place.

He's the one who offered you a lift. He's the one who messaged you on your days off to see if you fancied going for a drive. He's the one who didn't turn the AC on just to get you shaking your jacket off your shoulders.

And he's the one that drove you out to the coast one evening for no other reason than wanting to hear the waves. He's the one who opened up to you about his family. He's the one that made things more than what they were.

Had walked along the shore with you, too scared to hold your hand beneath the lunar light. Opted for playful banter instead, nudging you into the lapping waves.

But the waves got bigger, and Jungkook's unbridled desire to have you close did just the same. Like always, he took things too far. Drenched in sea water, you'd laughed with him for the entire ride home.

Invited him in. Said, "The salt will ruin your clothes. We should wash them."

"Hand wash only," he'd said, pinging his damp t-shirt against his chest. It stuck to him in such a way you learned all of his edges before you ever saw him naked—not like there was much time between these two instances. Ended up in your shower with him, clothes beneath your feet, the excuse of hand washing disregarded the second he had you naked.

You learned three things about Jungkook in that shower.

The first is that he giggles. Lips on yours, hands clutching your jaw, whenever the water was a little too intrusive, he'd separate with a laugh. Would kiss you again, a smile still on his face. Would pretend as if he wasn't giggling.

But he was, and it was lovely.

The second was that he's the type to lean his head forward, not tip it back. With his hands pressed to the shower tiles behind you as your fingers wrapped around his thick shaft, he let his head dip to his chest. Gave him ample opportunity to press kisses to the top of your head—or at least it did until you got to your knees and started taking his hard cock in your mouth.

"Shit," he had husked. Whined. Praised. "Fuck. You're so fuckin' good at that."

It was around then that you became aware he was a head pusher, too.

Almost as if he was saving the best until last, the third thing you learned was how he likes to cum; in your sheets, cock buried in your pussy, your hands clasped above your head. Missionary, 'cause he likes to kiss you through it. In your bed, 'cause he likes losing himself in everything you are. Prefers finishing inside you, but you refuse to fuck him without a condom so he never gets exactly what he wants. It's close enough, though.

Spent weeks—months—laying unfair claim to your body, and now he can't bring himself to look in your direction. It infuriates you.

But more than anything else, it embarrasses you.

Even your reflection laughs at you. Cackles 'told you so' every time you look in the mirror.

You always wondered why you never heard much about Jungkook's hook ups around campus. Everyone knows about Jimin and how his cock has been perpetually wet since the first day of freshers week, but there's always been a secrecy when it comes to Jungkook.

It's something you've teased him about; in your sheets, bodies clammy, his heart beating so fast in his chest you'd been forgiven for thinking he'd just run a marathon.

"When do I have to sign it?" You had giggled.

"Sign what?" He'd husked, voice all wispy and fucked out.

"The NDA," you'd replied as if it was obvious. "It's been, like, what? A month? Surely it's about time you made sure I kept my mouth shut like all your other girls do?"

On your front, your arms were folded over his chest, and he was gently rearranging the pretty little updo he'd made a mess of. Though he was looking at his hands as he replied, you kept your eyes on his. Studied his sincerity.

"Reason you don't hear about other girls is 'cause there aren't any."

A smile twitched at the corner of your lips, but you didn't let it shine for him.

"Sure."

There was a small jerk to his torso as a breathy smirk formed on his face.

"You think I can't be trusted?"

"I think it's foolish to trust any man."

His deep, dark eyes sank down to focus on yours. Offered you all the sincerity you'd be searching for, and more.

"That's all I am, huh?" He'd challenged you. "Just another one of your men?"

"One of the many," you'd teased just to rile him up a little.

"Ah," he'd played along. "So that's why I always have to wear a condom?"

With a saccharine smirk on your lips, you'd gotten back in position, legs straddled over his hips. Had kissed him. Whispered, "No. That's just because I know it annoys you."

"You annoy me all the time," he'd mumbled into your lips, hands gripping your waist to get you grinding against his still sensitive cock. Barely fifteen minutes since he'd last finished, there was no way he was ready to go again.

"Hm?" You'd hummed against his kisses, then began to work your way down his neck in a way that always got him a little moany. "If I'm so annoying, why are you getting hard again, baby?"

"You can be annoying and hot," he told you as he desperately tried to not let his insatiable need for you show.

"Is that how you like your girls?" You'd ribbed once more, just to piss him off a little. It was never serious. Never something you would actually fret over.

Perhaps you should have done, but then he told you with a little too much candour, "No. It's how I like my girl. Singular."

Loose lips sink ships, and Jungkook was one iceberg away from greeting the ocean floor. Closing his lips back down on yours, he was making sure you were just as insatiable for him as he was for you. He didn't cum again that evening, even if you did more times than you cared to count.

A greedy lover, is Jeon Jungkook. Edacious.

And so you understand, now, why the girls he gets entangled with stay silent; how the hoaxes he plays leave them utterly hysterical. They're subject to silence, because who would possibly believe all those sweet little lies he tells? How mad would they be considered if they tried to convince anyone he has a heart?

His brazen lack of humanity is proven when he comes to pay for the table. Any of them could have done it. Yet he elects to stand in front of your till and wait for you to serve him.

Have you not served him enough?

You refuse to utter a single word in his direction. Don't look at him, don't give him any satisfaction. He can read it for himself, he can pay, and he can fuck off.

"Keep the change," he mumbles tossing down the bills—but like fuck are you gonna keep anything he gives you.

He begins to walk away, a little shrunken in his stature.

"Excuse me, sir."

Stopping dead in his tracks, Jungkook is perplexed to hear you address him so coldly.

"Your change," you say, holding a closed hand out for him to hold his own hand beneath. He doesn't want to cause a scene. Obliges. Is surprised when notes, not coins, fall into his palm.

More specifically, notes folded into the shape of flowers. His handiwork, he's certain. Was something he used to do in the early hours of your late night diner shifts. If he said something a little mean, or bickered with you a little too hard, he'd fold his notes up like posies and give them to you as a remedy.

Never used those notes to buy you real flowers, mind you.

Back when things were still easy, you pulled him up on it. Told him that you'd be far easier to seduce with a little wooing. He'd told you that you were easy to seduce regardless.

You didn't speak to him for the rest of your shift.

Ended it with fourteen folded bills in the shape of a bouquet, and when the backseat windows of his car had a thick veil of condensation coating them that same evening, he'd drawn you flowers on them.

"No point in flowers," he'd told you. "They just wither up and die."

Which is funny, 'cause it kinda looks like Jungkook is doing that very same thing right in this moment. He goes to speak, but nothing comes out.

Disappointing, you think, then realise of course he is. Has done nothing but disappoint you.

You smile. Jungkook looks like he wants to cry. Good.

"Don't let the door hit you on the way out."

21 repetitions. That's how many times it takes to form a habit. You know this.

You also know that 90 days of this repetition will form a habit to last a lifetime.

As you hook up your apron, and free your hair of the ribbon that had been tightly wrapped around your ponytail, you know these are 'lifetime' habits. Apron, then ponytail. Always.

But when you say goodbye to Maria, and ask if she'll be at home this evening, you find yourself leaning into a recently formed habit. It's not anything particularly noteworthy. Not something anyone would notice.

Well, not anyone who matters. You don't think Jungkook counts as someone who matters, anymore.

But he'd noticed; how you'd started glancing across to his parking spot whenever you clocked out. Had teased you for it. Asked you if it was the highlight of your day, seeing him there, as if it wasn't the highlight of his.

You should have known the playful banter when he told you not to get used to it wasn't really banter at all.

Yet here you are, glancing across to his parking spot only to see it empty.

It's not even like it's his spot. Whenever he's with his friends, they walk. Live right on campus, so don't need to drive, and if they do, they'll park right by the doors.

In the height of summer, when the lot was empty and Jungkook wasn't driving for his sake but for yours, he liked to park in the far corner. Said dumb shit about not wanting any weirdos scratching it. Whined and moaned whenever someone performed the very human act of parking next to the only other car in an empty parking lot.

"So many spaces!" He'd blather on. Would speak with his hands. Get deliberately more animated, 'cause it always made you laugh. "And they choose here?!"

The memories make you smile, until the yellow headlights of another car flood into the parking lot. They reveal what's right in front of you; a crowd of cars and not a single one of them you care for.

It's not like you cared for Jungkook, either. Was just something to pass the time when the streets were quiet and his head was loud. 

In turn, you gave him quiet, and he made your summer feel loud.

But the leaves are turning brown and the water in the roadside puddles is becoming stale. The seasons have changed and so has the nature of your interactions. It's fine. You don't care. Really. Couldn't think of anyone you'd want to hang around less. Would rather die than associate with The Untouchables.

You never needed a lift, not really. Especially not when it always took you an hour to get home 'cause Jungkook just wanted to keep on driving.

Grumbling to yourself just to try and divert your mind from thoughts of him, your heart almost skips a beat when your phone vibrates in your pocket. For a second, you wonder if it could be him.

Where you at? It could read. I'm here.

Or maybe, I miss you.

I can't sleep without you.

This is so stupid. Can I come over?

It won't say of those things and you damn well know it.

Your text thread is dormant. The last message is from you, two weeks prior.

You: you not coming in tonight?

You: you'll be pleased to know my fairy godmother turned a pumpkin into a carriage to make sure i got home safe x

You: ... at least let me know if ur alive?

Rolling your eyes at how mortifying your desperation feels, the scowl that settles into your expression is comical. It's like you're fighting with the wind that's threading itself through your hair.

Pulling your phone out, the scowl only intensifies.

Jackass Wang: party tonight

You: so????

One thing about Jackson is that he's not gonna leave anyone on read, especially when he's trying to drum up attendees for his parties.

Jackass Wang: so i haven't seen you around for a while, montgomery

"Fuckin' Montgomery," you mutter at the nickname.

It's the one that all of Jungkook's friends seem to refer to you as, as if you don't have a personality outside of your job.

Still, at least Jackson is a little bit inventive with it. Calls you Monts. Monty, Monstera Plant, Monte Carlo, and god knows what else. If it starts with 'Mon,' he's found a way to end it with a cheeky smirk and smug anticipatory look in your direction, as he awaits your reaction.

You: i like it better when i don't see you x

Jackass Wang: you know that isn't true. loverboy will be there. come with him. or don't. i don't care. you can bring your little friends with you.

You: they'd rather die :) x

Jackass Wang: y'know, you're replying an awful lot for a girl who's not interested ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

You: you just can't take no for an answer

Jackass Wang: yes i can - but you haven't said no yet. c'mon. loverboy has been moping around all week. i can't be arsed with his mardy ass energy all evening.

You: so don't invite him???? i don't see why it's my problem?????

The fact that you don't need clarification of who Jackson means is proof enough that perhaps Jackson's onto something.

Jackass Wang: conservatory any time after 9. be there or be square montgomery. or don't be. i'm sure loverboy can get his dick wet without you, but it's easier for everyone if he doesn't.

You: charming x

Jackass Wang: it's why the ladies love me.

You: all of them except this one, apparently. have a nice party. stay away from the drugs.

Jackass Wang: can't be tamed, monte carlo. nor can loverboy. come keep him company.

The block button towards the top of your message thread looks incredibly tempting. Just a single click and you'll never have to deal with Jackson Wang and his dumb parties ever again.

Part of you can't believe you've ever been associated with them, as it is.

Summer defied the conventions of the life you've built for yourself. You weren't the person you thought you were.

Kicking off your shoes when you arrive home, the door slams shut behind you. A gentle voice calls through to check if it's you.

"Maria's still working," you say as you walk into the kitchen, tossing your bag down on the floor and your phone on the counter.

Taehyung, your best friend since your first week at college, is cooking himself dinner, but offers you a spoon of the tomato sauce he's making. Humming as you taste it, you're amazed by how he manages to make even the simplest thing delicious.

"S'good. What is that? Cumin?"

Nodding, he smiles. "A little paprika, too. You want some?"

His hair is dishevelled, blonde and sunkissed from the sweltering summer skies. He always looks great with a tan; radiant and full of youth.

Shaking your head, you really don't have an appetite. "Think I'm gonna have an early night."

He's about to reply when your phone buzzes. Both of you glance down. Your skin feels red hot, and when Taehyung almost chokes on the spoonful of sauce he's just tried, he's all sorts of confused.

"Why the fuck is Jackson Wang messaging you?"

"Hmm?" You hum as if you have no idea what he's talking about. Realise from the look on his face that he doesn't buy it for a second. "Oh! That Jackson Wang. Think he sent a text to his entire contact list. Something about a party."

"No," Taehyung asserts. "Absolutely not. You cannot bullshit out of this one."

"It's not bullshit," you whine as you pretend to look in the fridge for something to drink. Settle on a beer left by one of Taehyung's friends at a party held last semester. It wasn't quite a Jackson Wang level party, but nothing ever is. "He's just trying to drum up numbers for his stupid party tonight."

Taehyung is many things, but stupid he is not. Though he's blonde (thanks to a bottle of bleach and a few too many jack and cokes), he bends all the stereotypes. His tuition is covered by a scholarship for academic excellence.

"Don't give me that bull."

"It's not bull!"

"So you're telling me, out of everyone at our college, the Jackson Wang is texting you to make up numbers for his party?"

"Yes!" you exclaim, partially a little offended at it being such an unfathomable idea. "And he said you can come too, so maybe you're the one he's really after!"

His expression is flat. You are paper thin.

He's known you long enough to know when you're giving him half-truths.

He also knows you spent the summer alone in this house, and that there's a new toothbrush in the bathroom next to yours.

"You're hooking up with him, aren't you?"

"No!"

Out of everyone to be accused of sleeping with, Jackson Wang is, like, the worst of the worst. He's handsome, sure, but he's also slept with pretty much every girl on campus. Is a teenage boy in a grown adult's body. You'd rather not fornicate with a guy who still finds 'your mum' jokes funny.

Taehyung gasps at your immediate denial. "You are!"

"I'm not!"

"All that talk about saving it for someone special, and you mean to tell me you went and lost it to Jackson fuckin' Wang?!"

Everything about this conversation is making you want to punch yourself in the face. The topic of sex, and just why you've never gotten around to it, has dominated many conversations around this dining table. If you have to discuss it again, you might move out.

"Oh my God," you whine, throwing your head back. "We are not having this conversation."

"Yes, we are."

"No, we're not, because I didn't lose my virginity to Jackson Wang!" You stress. The more you think about it, the more offended you are.

"To Jackson Wang," Taehyung echoes, as he begins to join invisible dots. "But you did lose it to someone."

"No," you insist, but Taehyung refuses to buy it. Knows you too damn well.

He always thought he'd know when you lost it. That it'd be a boy you'd been dating. Committed to. Someone good. Someone worthy. Not someone you keep in the shadows.

"There's something you're not telling me," he frowns. "What the fuck happened this summer?"

With a sigh so deep it's a miracle you're still breathing, you relent. Never signed one of those NDA's you're convinced Jungkook must hand out like candy, as if he's some sort of celebrity and not just some college reprobate.

"Jungkook," you feebly admit. Take a sip on your beer. Don't look at Taheyung, 'cause you're afraid to see his reaction. "Wasn't Jackson. Was Jungkook."

You tell Taehyung everything. How Jungkook never knew you were a virgin. How he still doesn't. How you blame yourself for your hurt, but him for not getting you any band aids to help deal with it; for not kissing you better when he was the one to cause you such hurt in the first place.

As you recite you memories, you play a game against yourself: take a sip every time you want to cry.

By the time you've told Taehyung the nitty-gritty truth, the bottle of wine that had been in the fridge is finished, as well as your beer.

"I can't believe this," Taehyung says for what feels like the billionth time.

There's a certain shame that comes with Taehyung's confusion.

Embarrassment, like the way Jungkook would cringe at himself whenever he stumbled on his words, or the way you'd covered your reddening cheeks with your hands when he teased you for looking at him in the way you did.

Remorse of time wasted before him, and time wasted with him.

Regret of the things you did and the things he didn't.

It's all very confusing. Exhausting. If you were to really think about it, you'd spend a week in bed with a box of tissues. Would ask Taehyung why he didn't warn you that a heart could feel this horrid.

But he did, and you damn well know it.

Shrugging, you reach for the bottle and split the final few glugs between your glasses.

"We were just bored," you play it off. "Had nothing better to do. No one better to do."

But Taehyung shakes his head. "You don't have to do that, yanno. Pretend like it didn't matter. It's okay that it did. Even if he is a prick, and even if he's no better than the rest of them. It's okay that it hurts."

You're silent when he says this.

Despite your teasing, you never really thought Jungkook was much of a player.

But his friends are back now, and you've been relegated to the sidelines. Doesn't matter if he spent weeks—months—playing in no field but yours. Greener pastures have presumably sprouted. Your turf is wrecked from his carelessness, and he's left you to heal yourself while he goes and wrecks another.

Whoever he was pretending to be in the summer isn't who he is now that his friends are back—but when they're laughing and joking in the basement of the Conservatory that evening, Jungkook knows which version of himself he prefers.

"You need to get laid," Jimin tells Jungkook with a laugh. "Never seen a man look so bloody miserable at a party."

Of all the things Jungkook needs, getting laid is not one of them. In fact, he thinks it would be a very sensible idea if he never got laid again. Sex is messy. People get all emotional over it.

Or more so, he gets all emotional over it.

Had never been the type to, before. Always thought it was something that just happened to other people. Not to him.

He pushes the thoughts aside. Feels a little sick. Shrugs off Jimin's remark.

"If I wanted to get laid, I would get laid."

"So why don't you? Will do us all a favour. Claudia's been—"

"I couldn't give a fuck," Jungkook interrupts Jimin. "I'm not interested."

He never has been. Wants nothing to do with this university, and the men that run it, and so would never date one of their daughters.

They're all corrupt. Every last one of them. All cheat on their wives. All throw their families under the bus for their own selfish exploits. His own father's affair has proven this to him.

Jungkook pities his friends. Just because their parents haven't fucked up yet, doesn't mean they won't.

"Oi, Loverboy," Jackson calls from across the room, breaking the tension only to replace it with a headache for Jungkook. "Where's your little girlfriend? I told her to come."

"Who?" Jimin chirps.

Jungkook grates his jaw. Is deadly serious when he says, "Leave it, Jackson."

"Trouble in paradise for our lovebirds, huh?"

"I said leave it."

"Who the fuck is he talking about?" Jimin continues to ask, incredibly curious about this turn of events. Leave town for a couple of months, he thinks, and everything changes.

"No one."

"That one from the diner," Jackson just continues fuckin' talking. Jungkook wants to scream. "The one with a stick up her ass—"

"Jackson, cut it out," Jungkook snaps. "She's no one. Just fuckin' leave it."

"You ashamed, huh, Loverboy?" Jackson berates him a little bit. He isn't trying to be a dick, but he thinks Jungkook is acting like a tool. Jackson is no saint, but at least he doesn't ever pretend to be something he's not. "Poor girl. Wear her like your favourite pair of shoes all summer and then throw her to the trash when your friends come back? I thought better of you. So did she, probably. Shame."

Of all the people Jungkook ever expected to receive lessons in morality from, Jackson Wang was not the one. He parades himself around the Conservatory like Hugh Hefner reincarnated, his class attributed to money and not behaviours.

"The fuck have you been doing this summer, Kook?" Jimin laughs, utterly dumbfounded by his reactions.

They've all had their fair share of less than conventional lovers. If Jungkook has been fucking around with a girl from the Diner, then so what? Who cares?

"Nothing," Jungkook snaps.

It's not that he's ashamed. 

It's that you're separate.

When he's with you, all of this—the bullshit of college life and calamity of his family falling apart—dissolves into nothingness. He doesn't have to think. Finds himself at ease.

If you were to ever become a part of his life—his real one, not the one he got so used to living in with you over the summer—then it'd all change.

He doesn't want that.

He wants you to be a safe haven.

A refuge point can't be in the midst of a fire, though. He has to keep you away. At arms length.

But god damn, he wishes you would come and put out his fire. He's struggling. Finds existing without you so fucking hard. Doesn't know at which point he became so dependent, but knows his oxygen is running low.

He's suffocating. Isn't sure how much longer he can keep this up.

"Yeah, sure seems like nothing," Jimin smirks with a shake of his head as Jungkook storms off to get some much needed air. "Oi, Jackson, what was that all about?"

With a shrug, and yet another girl on his arm, Jackson grins. Puts on a pathetic little voice to mimic Jungkook's tantrum. "Fink baby boy has a wittle cwush."

"Girl from the diner?" Jimin implores, still smirking at Jackson's dumb humour. "Which one?"

"You really have to ask?"

For all of his mystery, Jungkook has never been a man of subtleties. His eyes give him away.

They always have done.

When he was looking at the menu board earlier that day? It was obvious.

Before college broke up for summer, and how Jungkook would always cast his eyes down to his hands whenever you, specifically, came to take their order? It was obvious.

How Jungkook would always make sure he was on the side of the booth that gave him ample opportunity to steal glances of you? It was so fucking obvious.

Sometimes he'd laugh at the slightly sarcastic remarks you gave Claudia whenever she would ask irritating questions about the menu.

When they were deciding where to eat, Jungkook would suggest the Montgomery's Diner, always.

So, no, Jimin doesn't really have to ask.

"Stupid prick," he sighs, sipping on his beer. Loves Jungkook to absolute death, but will never understand him. Figures that maybe you do. Worries that Jungkook is about to wreck it all. He calls after Jackson, "She here tonight?"

"Invited her," he calls back. "But she's got an attitude problem to rival his. Fuck knows if she's around. You'll feel her ice before you see her."

Which is funny, because the lingering summer heat sticks to your skin as you nervously meander up a driveway you know all too well.

The Conservatory is decidedly not a conservatory.

It's a complex. A maze of buildings, and greenhouses, and fuck knows what else. You've no interest in gardening, but if excelling at it meant living somewhere like this, maybe you'd consider taking it up as a hobby.

The buildings are mostly redbrick, with large windows, and even larger doors. It's the kind of place you'd imagine a Duke of some far away land prancing about in. Playing croquet, or secretly courting a lowly village girl that his parents will never approve of.

The irony isn't lost on you.

"Wait, how do I look?" Taehyung asks for what feels like the hundredth time. "Not too dressy?"

"You're wearing a waistcoat," you reply, face twisted in affectionate condemnation. He looks great, but he also does look far too dressy. It's his 'look', though, and one that'll get him attention, both good and bad.

If Kim Taehyung walked around with the arrogance his handsome face warranted him with, he'd be the heartthrob of the campus. You think even Claudia would want a slice of him—and given his distaste for the elite yet pining desire to be on their level, it'd be quite the complex pairing.

All of the other men here are in t-shirts, but Taehyung has never been like other men. It's part of the reason you like him so much.

One thing, however, you don't like about Taehyung is his domineering need to 'fix' things. It comes from a place of love, and he only ever does it because he cares, but it's not always in your best interest.

When he told you to go and get changed out of your work uniform, you thought he was planning on taking you to a bar. That you'd be drowning your sorrows over wine you can't afford.

You would never agree to go to the Conservatory. Not now.

Which is why he didn't tell you of his plan.

Instead, he ordered a cab and didn't give you the chance to protest. You were already halfway there by the time you realised.

"Why don't we just go home?" You whine, tugging on his arm as you stand by the gate that leads through the gardens—the same ones you used to traipse around in with Jungkook. "We don't need to be here."

"Uh-uh," he shakes his head, firmly standing his ground. "I've avoided this place for two years, and the second my back is turned it becomes your new home. The least you could do is invite me round for dinner."

"It's not my new home—"

"MONTGOMERY!"

The voice of Jackson Wang yelling across the front lawn makes you want to shrivel up and die. Sink down into the ground. You'd make great compost for the botanists.

"Y'know, you and Loverboy really need to stop lying so much," he says with an incredibly intoxicated grin as he lumbers towards you. You'll never admit it, but part of you is pleased to see him. "First you saying you weren't coming, then him telling everyone nothing happened between you. Both as bad as one another."

Nothing happened between you.

It doesn't surprise you, but it does sting. And it also confuses you. Why on earth would you be a topic of conversation? The people here know you as Montgomery. The girl from the diner. You're nothing but a background character to them.

"What did he say?" You ask, disregarding everything else, not even bothering to introduce Taehyung. He's finding all of this incredibly bewildering.

"Oh, Jimin was grilling him," Jackson waves his hands around, disregarding it. "Kept saying you were no one. Refused to admit that he'd practically tied his laces with yours for the whole summer. Don't you worry, though, Monte Carlo. I had your back. Set the record straight."

Jackson Wang having your back isn't something you ever expected to happen.

Jeon Jungkook's absolute denial of your clandestine affaire de cœur is, disappointingly, something you expected.

It doesn't mean that it comes without hurt. If anything, it's far more visceral, for you only have yourself to blame. These wounds are self-inflicted, even if they're carved with a knife Jungkook crafted out of silly affirmations he never should have made.

"Where is he?" You ask, cold in your tone.

Jackson shrugs. "Try the basement. S'where I last saw him."

As Jackson saunters off to find another poor partygoer to mildly offend, you're left with a bad taste in your mouth. You've been irritated since you saw Jungkook earlier that day.

How he can just show up at the diner and act like he doesn't even know you, let alone knows what it's like to wake up next to you, is beyond insulting.

"C'mon," Taehyung urges you along. "I need a drink, and you could use three."

Conversely, you think you need an entire bottle.

A bottle of what, you don't care. Just something strong. Anything other than the shitty, overpriced whisky Jungkook always insisted on drinking.

"Fine. But we're not going to the basement."

It's perplexing to walk the halls of the Conservatory without Jungkook; to pass by strangers who have no idea who you are, but who know and admire him as if he's some sort of Hollywood celebrity.

They don't know him like you do. Don't know what it feels like to have his hand around their throat, or his fingers gently intertwined with theirs. They've never heard him laugh like you have.

And yet when you're a few drinks deep, and on the verge of calling a cab to go home, you hear that laugh again and wonder how he can bear to be happy right now.

Glancing up, his face is unreadable. The lights are dim, and the shadows obscure the painful furrowing of his brows. He looks just the same as he did back in the diner earlier that day. Perplexed. In pain. Somehow perfectly fine, too.

The group he's in is small. Some of them you know, some of them you don't.

Claudia sits across from him on the lap of some other guy, yet she doesn't take her eyes off Jungkook. She laughs a little harder at his jokes. Directs questions to him. Flirts with other people in front of him to no avail. 

Not even now, after summer when her skin is sunkissed and her radiance is rejuvenated, can she keep his attention.

In fact, none of them can once he spots you from across the room. The big lights are off, fairy lights strung up, and a sunset lamp pours a clementine hue over you.

Summer becomes you, he thinks—adores—from afar.

The year is a body, and you're eternally condemned to its heart. That's where he'll keep you. Where you belong.

Had it been spring—the brain of the year—when he'd been hauled up in that diner, he never would have let things get as far as they did.

Had it been winter—the cunt of the year, for lack of a better term—he would have let it get that far, and he wouldn't have felt bad about it, either.

But Autumn is drawing close. The gut. The time to trust his intuition, and he damn well knows it.

A hand wraps itself around your wrist, dragging you away from his car crash eyes. Jungkook slips into the dull shadows of the room, right where he belongs. Was foolish of you to ever think otherwise.

"Do you mind?" you snap, but let yourself be dragged away regardless. Part of you hopes it'll make Jungkook do something. You're not sure what. Just something.

The man who is leading you astray is familiar. Recognisable. Park Jimin.

Though he's not aggressive, he definitely isn't gentle as he leads you out to the gardens. Lets go of your wrist by an overgrown shrub just beyond the benches that are made for drunken DMC's. He isn't after one of them. Wants the facts.

"Cut the bullshit," he says.

"No hello?" You chirp. "Nice to see you? Or better yet, an introduction?"

"You know who I am," Jimin tells you, expression flat. You hate that the arrogant fucker is right. "But I know fuck all about you, and apparently you're the reason Jungkook is walking around like death warmed up. So cut the bull. What happened?"

Frankly it's none of Jimin's business. Even if he's done you wrong, Jungkook trusted you. You're not gonna throw that back in his face and air his dirty laundry—especially not considering that Jimin is Jungkook's friend. If Jungkook wanted him to know, he'd have told him.

"Nothing," you tell him. "Barely even know him."

Jimin sighs. Jackson was right. There's a reason why you and Jungkook got along so well. Are both insufferable.

Glancing behind you, Jimin raises his brows.

You turn to face his line of vision, and fail to hide your surprise when you see Jungkook by the back door. Like a deer in headlights, he's frozen in place, his darling bambi eyes so startled he almost looks scared.

"So if you barely know him," Jimin continues as you and Jungkook stare one another out. "Why the fuck is he looking at you like he's seen a ghost?"

It takes a second or so, but you manage to pull your gaze away. Turn back to face Jimin. Shrug. Play dumb.

"Mistaken identity."

"Oh, I get it," Jimin smirks, knowing you aren't gonna give him an easy way out. Needs to bamboozle answers out of you. "You both went to the same bullshitting classes over summer? Is that it?"

You're surprised to find yourself smiling. Surprised that you find humour in Jimin's words. Surprised that you aren't rolling your eyes.

He's always been the Untouchable that has annoyed you the most. Is too loud. Laughs at the most obnoxious things.

"Top of the class," you reply because it somehow feels okay to joke with him. Perhaps spending so much time with Jungkook has lowered you Park Jimin-related intolerance. Not cured it, by any means, but definitely made it easier to manage.

"Academic rivals," Jimin supposes, realising that maybe there's a little more to you than he's ever given you credit for. "That's pretty hot."

"He seemed to think so," you lament, knowing that you're revealing a far more truthful rendition of your time spent with Jungkook. Or at least, admitting that time was spent together.

With a sigh, you walk a little further into the garden. Cross your arms. Look back over your shoulder to the door, only to find Jungkook is gone. It shouldn't upset you like it does, but you find your lips pressing together in a small pout.

"Look," Jimin says, exhaling a breath so deep you're sure his lungs must be empty. He comes to stand beside you, looking across the vast expanse of the gardens. "I'm not asking for your life story. If you don't give a shit about Kook, then that's fine, I'll leave you alone. But he's my best friend, and I've never seen him like this."

Glancing at Jimin, there's a taut discomfort on your face. Guilt, almost—but you've not done anything wrong. It's on him. He's the one who chose for things to be this way.

"I give a shit," you quietly admit as you look back out towards the garden, then sigh out a pitiful laugh. "You know him. You know what he's like. Of course I give a shit."

Quite honestly you think it's impossible to not fall for Jungkook. He's everything you're hardwired to appreciate: hardworking, charming, incredibly funny. You lost count of how many nights dissolved into laughter with him. Had never known your cheeks to hurt so much.

He was gentle, too. Stroked his thumbs against your cheeks just as often as he made them ache.

It's your heart that's aching now, and he's not around to soothe your woes.

Back inside, Jungkook feels so viscerally unwell that he thinks he might be sick. Or maybe he's actually dying. One of the two.

This is everything he didn't want. You were supposed to be separate. Supposed to be a sanctuary away from this all.

You're in the thick of it, now. Jimin is grilling you, and Jungkook doesn't know what to do. It's too much. All of it. The party, the people, the fact that you look at him with ice in your eyes when he knows damn well they used to harbour the warmest of fires.

Beelining for the basement, he kind of hopes the ground will swallow him up. Stop him from making the bad decisions he seems to find so god damn irresistible.

As he yanks open the small fridge at the back of the basement, Jungkook doesn't care what he drinks. Just needs something to help soothe his fragile mine; to make him feel better, 'cause lord knows you won't.

Reaching for a beer, he doesn't ask around to see if it belongs to anyone. Finders keepers. He's an Untouchable. This place is basically his by birthright. No one is gonna argue against him.

But Kim Taehyung isn't just anyone.

"So, when you apologise for being a gargantuan pillock, are you planning on also trying to win her over? Or will you just clean your conscience and wipe yourself clean of her, too?"

Jungkook's jaw tenses as his teeth grit together. "Don't know what you're on about."

"Had a girl in tears at my dinner table earlier tonight," Taehyung exaggerates. Just wants Jungkook to feel as awful as he knows you do. "Your friends might not give a shit about your well-being, but I give a shit about mine."

And for some reason, this irks Jungkook. He gives a shit about you. Cares so much he's been torturing himself by staying away. Thinks it's better for you both.

If it truly was, neither of you would be feeling so gut-wrenchingly awful.

He knows you're angry. You've made that perfectly clear.

But he also knows you do cry when you're frustrated. Was a lesson learned when you were stressed over the diner roof leaking one night during the monsoons when no one else was in to help you fix it.

It was the first night he offered you a lift home. Had taken pity on you. Had also liaised with the college maintenance guy to check it out the next day, even if the diner wasn't technically part of campus.

Because Jungkook does give a shit about your well-being, and he refutes the claim that he doesn't.

"So what? You here to tell me to stay away?" Jungkook scoffs as he prizes off the cap of the bottle. Swigs down a sip. Then another, 'cause he's not wankered enough for this.

"I'm here to tell you that you're an asshole," Taehyung asserts. "She didn't deserve to be used by you for the summer and then tossed to the trash just because semesters starting up again."

The roll of Jungkook's eyes is so weighted that it almost feels as if they'll get lodged in the back of his skull. The last time they'd rolled that deep was in bed with you. Back then it was because his body was so divinely out of sync that his muscles couldn't keep up with his actions. This time, pleasure is the furthest thing away from how he's feeling.

"You want me nowhere near her, but the fact I'm staying away makes me an asshole?" Jungkook petulantly laughs. "Can't ever fuckin' win, can I?"

"This isn't about winning or losing," Taehyung argues back. "She trusted you."

Jungkook doesn't understand what that has to do with anything. He's not betrayed your trust. Has kept all your secrets. Tried his best to keep you secret, too.

"What was she to you, huh? Some project? A virginity to get under your belt? Something to pass the time—"

"I don't know who you think I am," Jungkook snaps, fed up being accused of something he's not. "But not once did I ever treat her badly, okay? I—" He cuts himself off. Doesn't know how to articulate himself. "We— Look, you just don't get it. You don't know me. I was nothing but fuckin' nice. Okay? And she was nice. And it was nice. And we..." He trails off. Realises what Taehyung said. "The fuck do you mean, 'virginity to get under your belt'?"

It's about now that Taehyung realises he's said too much.

But every cloud has a silver lining.

"Talk to her," Taehyung shrugs as he begins to walk away. "Not me."

He leaves a scowling Jungkook by the fridge. Heads to the stairs, and once he reaches the top, is yanked away by a small but mighty force.

"You," Jimin asserts. "With me. Now."

The sound of three knocks on the bathroom door serve as a signal: let me in.

A panicked text from Taehyung had practically begged you to go to the basement bathroom and wait for him there. Said there was drama that he needed to talk with you about.

And you believed him, 'cause you're a few too many drinks deep and honestly could do with the respite.

Perched up on the countertop by the sink, you reach over and unhook the latch, giving Taehyung the all clear to come on in. Your legs languidly swing and your shoulders are slumped, this party well and truly over for you.

The only reason you're still here is because you know Taehyung's secretly been revelling in his first Conservatory party. You fear he'll want to come every weekend, now.

"You better not have your cock out," a playful voice you know all too well jokes, as the door pushes open. Eyes closed as he enters, he shuts the door behind him. Asks, "Am I safe to open my eyes?"

You're gonna kill Taehyung. 

In the most loving but brutal way, you will absolutelymurder him for setting you up like this.

"Safe," you grimace.

Jungkook doesn't open his eyes. In fact, he presses them even tighter together. Frowns. "Jimin isn't in here, is he?"

"We've been bamboozled," you sigh, and as much as he doesn't want to, Jungkook smiles at your choice of words. Tips his head down, and open his eyes. Is a little too scared to look your way, for fear of being greeted with wrath.

"Their days are numbered," Jungkook assures you, quickly glancing across to try and work out how you're feeling.

"My sentiments exactly."

Jungkook goes to speak, but you both notice a grating metallic noise by the door. Immediately, Jungkook presses his hand down on the door handle, but there's absolutely no give. It won't budge

"Jimin," he calls, voice strong and domineering through the wooden panels. Hastily painted white, they're chipped and tarnished; covered in numbers and Instagram handles, rumours and declarations of love. It's not your first time locked in this bathroom with Jungkook, but the last was of your own choice. Had been you turning the lock with a smile and glint in your eyes that had promised him trouble. "Open it up."

"No can do," Jimins smugly sings from beyond the door. "Sort your shit out."

Hopping off the counter, you nudge in front of Jungkook to pound against the door with an open fist. Though he steps back, it's still the closest you've been with him since he left your bedroom a couple weeks ago. Part of you laments the fact he moved away from you. Part of him does, too.

"Tae," you try calling instead, hand banging on the door, but you're met with the exact same response.

"Figure it out," he calls back, but also adds, "And if he's still an insufferable asshole in five minutes time, I'll come let you out."

Despite everything, you laugh at this. Not so much because of Taehyung's words, but because Jungkook's face screws up like an old newspaper.

"What is it with him and calling me an asshole?" Jungkook mutters under his breath with a shake of his head.

The bathroom is small—just a toilet and sink built into a cabinet. There's a mirror covering the back wall over it, and another cabinet above it that you assume is filled with empty bottles and misplaced lipglosses. There's barely even enough room to breathe, although there is enough room to make Jeon Jungkook come undone in the least dignified of ways. You should know.

You wish you didn't.

"He calls you one because you are one," you assure him.

"Excuse me?" 

"What?" You scoff, hopping back up on the counter, your eyes on his 'cause you want to watch the way he gets nasty. Wanna remind yourself of how horrible he can be. Replace the memories of him in this bathroom, 'cause in all reality, they're actually really lovely. Nice, even. Warm. Everything you're trying to convince yourself he's not. "Gone deaf as well as turned into a massive prick?"

"Jesus Christ," he says, rolling his eyes, turning back to face the door. Shakes at the handle. "Give it a rest."

"Why?" You ask as if butter wouldn't melt on your tongue. "Would it make life easier for you if I just wasn't around?"

Jungkook knows what you're doing. Has bickered with you enough times to understand your tricks. This is how you start; put words in his mouth that he can't defend against.

And so he doesn't try.

"Yep," he declares, turning to face you. "Way easier. Can you tell your friend I'm an asshole, still? Get us out of this place?"

You recline in defiance. Perched up on the counter next to the basin, your back is against a mirror. Legs crossed, you're in the same white summer dress you wore to your first party at the Conservatory.

Nearly everyone had been away for the summer.

You had spent the evening tucked up together on an armchair meant for one, him in the seat, you perched on the armrest, feet in his lap.

"People will talk, y'know," you'd assured him, elbows on your knees, chin in your palms.

"So let them talk," he'd smirked. "What's there to say? We're just sitting?"

It was strange for him to be seen with you. Even Jackson has been confused, but let it slide 'cause another partygoer is another partygoer. He cared for numbers, not names.

"Dunno," you had teased. "Might start talking about the way you look at me."

"Yeah?" He'd husked as his long fingers wrapped around your wrist. Gently pulled you closer.

"Yeah," you'd whispered, the sound of the music keeping your conversation obscure. "How long has it been that you've been looking at me for? A minute, already? Only one more until you fall in love, according to science."

"You tryna make me fall in love with you, Montgomery?"

"No," you'd innocently chirped, then pulled back. "Why? Were you?"

He'd shrugged. Sipped on his beer. "Guess we'll never know."

Looking at him now, you find it hard to believe he's the same person as he was back then.

"Why would I do that?" You feign naivety. "You're not an asshole?"

He doesn't reply. Knows you're going somewhere with this. Leans his back against the wall opposite you and folds his arms as if to say, go on.

"Assholes fuck people over," you state. "You'd never do that. And you'd definitely never spend your summer in some poor girls sheets and then pretend like she doesn't exist in front of your friends—"

"There is it," he confirms. Knew it was coming. Didn't expect you to actually try and speak about things like adults. So fuckin' childish.

"Oh?" You chirp. "So you're well aware of the fact you're an asshole? Good. Glad we have that one sorted out."

"Yep," he confirms, mouth drawing to a thin line.

The fact he isn't engaging in the fight infuriates you. Just proves he doesn't care. That he fucked you over for sport.

"I'm an asshole," he says, voice full of snark. "You know it, I know it. There's no reason why you should want to be around me. No reason why you should waste your time."

"It's so funny," you gasp in fake surprise. "I was thinking the exact same thing! Isn't it so great that you came to this conclusion after you already wasted months of my life?"

He's silent, now. Cowardly.

"Y'know I always knew you were an obnoxious prick," you say, voice now soberly quiet. "But I didn't think you were this cruel, Kook."

"You know that's not—"

"What?" You interrupt, voice growing louder with each question. "Not true? You woke up in my bed one morning, and then never spoke to me again. Who does that? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"I don't know!" He shouts, and it surprises you both.

Raking his hand through his hair as he turns away from you, Jungkook wishes he had an answer. Wishes he could explain himself in a way that made sense to you both. Instead, he harshly swallows down his anger. Turns to face you again. Looks like he might cry.

Feels like it, too. 

"Why didn't you tell me, huh?" He quietly asks.

"Tell you wha—"

"That you were a virgin."

Your previous thoughts about murdering Taehyung return. Of all the things he could have divulged to Jungkook, and that's what he chose?!

Men, you internally scoff. All fuckin' idiots.

"Hardly relevant, is it?"

"Of course it is," he snaps, turning back to face you. "If I'd have known—"

"You'd have what? Ghosted me sooner? Made it into a fun little competition?"

"I didn't ghost you."

"Gaslighting, too, now are we?" You scoff. "Hold on, let me go and get my bingo card. Things Jungkook does that are absolutely fucking infuriating. Wanna cross it off the list. It's right next to how fast you drive your car, and how much I hate your stupid fucking alarm tone."

"Well good job you never have to hear it again, isn't it?"

"Why not? 'Cause you are ghosting me?"

"No, because this is fuckin' stupid," he says, yanking on the door handle, on the off chance it will finally budge. It doesn't. "You think I'm the devil reincarnated. You don't want me, so why bother with this? This is done. Us. Whatever the fuck it was. You never trusted me in the first place. Would have told me if you did. So just call your friend, tell him I'm an asshole. We're done."

"Oh, well you're two weeks too late for this conversation, don't you think?" you argue back with a cold laugh. "But has it ever occurred to you that my life doesn't revolve around you? That you aren't the reason I'm here? Jackson invited me."

"Ah, so that's what it is?" Jungkook sarcastically exclaims, your insatiable need to fight finally sinking into his skin. "You were just using me, huh? Getting those V-plates off, so you could be ready for him? Is that why you didn't tell me? Huh?"

The mere thought of hooking up with the college's very own Hugh Hefner makes you wanna gag—but if it'll piss off Jungkook, maybe you'll consider it.

"Why would you care if I let him fuck me?" You ask with such pointed anger Jungkook can't help but feel like you're driving knives into his chest. "Do that thing you like with my tongue? You think he'd like my pussy, huh? Maybe I'd let him fuck me raw."

You never let Jungkook go unprotected. Insisted on it each and every time, and he complied even if he was a little pouty about it after you'd been fucking for a while. The trust was there. You were on the pill. He knew he was clean and had told you as such, but it made no difference.

To even suggest you'd let Jackson fuck you raw is laughable.

With a smirk on his lips, Jungkook edges towards you.

Put his hands on your crossed knees. Waits for you to jerk him away—but you don't. Instead, you watch on with salacious confusion. Say nothing. Not even when he uncrosses them, nor when he spreads them apart.

With a hand either side of your head against the mirror, Jungkook stands between your legs.

Looks down at you.

Is so close you can smell his aftershave.

A month ago, in a position like this, you'd have kissed him.

"Hm?" You cock your head. Repeat your question. "You think he'd like my pussy? How long do you think he'd take to cum? Longer than you, I hope."

Jaw tense, Jungkook swallows down the way he wants to curse you out. Closes his eyes. Lets his head dip further, his forehead now resting against the top of your head.

The contact is minimal, but God, you've missed it. Trapped in position by him, you'd forgotten how lovely it was to lose yourself to Jungkook.

"You're not being fair," he whispers. Whines, even.

"Fair?" You laugh, but it's gentle. Matches his tone. "You can hardly take the high ground on fairness, Jungkook."

He nods. Takes a second, and then pathetically begs: "Don't fuck him. Please."

"Why shouldn't I?"

"You know why," he says. Stands straighter, now. Rakes a hand through his hair. Looks down on you with such pained desperation you almost feel bad. He tries to speak, but struggles with his words again. Takes him a few attempts to get anything out. "I didn't like you because I was fucking you. I fucked you because I liked you. You know that. You know it wasn't...Fuck. You know what it was."

The past tense he speaks in cuts you up inside.

Jungkook shrugs in defeat when he's met with silence. Purses his lips. Eyes on yours, they're glassy. Watery, almost.

Yours are just as bad, because what the fuck are you supposed to say to that? He's the one that cut you out. He did this.

"What did I do?" You ask, voice meagre and pathetic. Your vulnerability is mortifying, and yet you just can't help yourself as a tear streaks down your cheek. "What the fuck did I do that was so wrong, Kook?"

The heat of his hand scalds your skin as his thumb wipes away your tears. After his cold shoulder for the past two weeks, your body doesn't know how to respond. Should you be angry? Hurt? Comforted?

All you know is that you're more confused now than you ever were when you first started hooking up with him.

"Nothing," he quietly promises. Holds your cheeks in his hands. Rests his nose beside yours. Is far too close for a man who's been trying to stay away from you. Is beginning to realise that maybe his self-preservation was thinly veiled self-sabotage instead. "I thought I was doing the right thing, but it's been so fuckin' miserable, and then I didn't know how to fix things, and then it was all such a mess and—"

The words Jungkook is yet to speak are lost in the soft press of your lips against his.

Brows furrowed, Jungkook's grip on your face tightens. Keeps you close, 'cause he feels the pressure of your lips waning but doesn't want you to pull away.

And so you don't. Instead you apply more pressure. Harder. Deeper.

It's not like kissing Jungkook is a new experience. You've done it upwards of a thousand times, now. You know his lips and his tongue, and how it likes to flick against yours; his piercings, and the frequency of his moans that vibrate into your mouth.

Kissing Jungkook is just as easy as it is hard. Easy, in the way he takes not a single considered thought. Hard, in how it becomes your only tangible thought for minutes, hours, days afterwards.

An eternity and a millisecond is lost in the kiss, just like the summer that lasted an age and yet was gone with the wind.

When your lips finally part, there's silence. Forehead resting on yours, Jungkook shakes his head ever so gently. Doesn't know how to articulate his thoughts. How to say sorry, or how to fix his mess.

While his logic was flawed, and his execution careless, his intentions had been good. As much as he had a life to go back to, and friends that wouldn't get it, so did you.

He knows they hate him—isn't ignorant to the roll of Maria's eyes every time they walk into Montgomery's, and has experienced Taehyung's disdain first-hand this evening.

He'd spent his summer getting out of the house to avoid the fall-out of his father's infidelity. Knows how much his family is suffering all because of a man who just couldn't control himself. Was trying to be better. Trying not to wreck both of your lives.

As he stands in the dingy bathroom of a party house, the lingering burn of your lips on his still smouldering, he knows that he wrecked you both regardless.

And so it's up to him to put you back together again.

"I'm sorry," you say as you break the kiss, mortified at how stupid of an impulse it had been. You don't that. Not anymore. A month ago, sure, kissing Jungkook in a dingy bathroom at a party house would have been exciting. Now, it just feels embarrassing. "I shouldn't have—"

His lips are on yours again, stealing your words from you. He doesn't want to hear you apologise. Knows that you don't need to.  Also knows that he does need to.

"Don't," he quickly says between kisses. "Please, don't say sorry."

"But I—"

"Shut up," he smiles against your lips, shaking his head ever so slightly. He kisses you again, and this time it's soft. Pretty. Poetic, almost in how it makes you feel. And then he speaks, and you're reminded of just how easy it is to adore him, even when you know you shouldn't. "You know how much I've missed this? God, I've missed you so much. Please don't say sorry. I'm sorry. It's on me. I made a mistake, alright? I fucked up." 

He pulls back. Has your cheeks in his hands as he makes sure your eyes are on his. They're dark, now, in the dim light of the bathroom you're in, but they've never been warmer.

"I mean it. I'm so fucking sorry," he whispers. Brows furrowed, lips pouty, he's got the kind of face you're hardwired to trust. To adore. Or maybe, it's just him, in general, that you're inclined to feel this way about. "Okay?"

His large hard hands are still holding your cheeks, as yours wrap around his wrists. With a shake of your head, you shrug. Pout, too.

An apology is appreciated, but it's just words. It's his actions that have been upsetting you. Not his words (or lack thereof).

"We're gonna leave this bathroom and you're gonna pretend like I don't exist again," you tell him.

The frown on his face deepens. "That's not true. And that's not what I was trying to do in the first place, either. I just thought—"

"What? That it was a good idea to kiss me on my doorstep and promise you'd pick me up from work, only to never show? To ignore my texts? To—"

"No," he quietly admits, dropping his head between his shoulders. "I made the wrong calls—but I can make it up to you. I want to make it up to you." He rests his forehead against yours. Quietly begs, "Please."

Slowly, Jungkook nudges his nose up against yours. Waits for permission.

Beyond the door, loud music thuds through the room. It obscures the conversation you've been having, keeping you just as secret as you always have been.

It's not like you told any of your friends, either, and when it came to telling Taehyung, you weren't exactly forthcoming. Perhaps you would have been the one to pretend like he didn't exist, had he not done it first.

"I want you," he husks against your lips. 

"You wanna fuck me," you correct him, lips tantalisingly brushing his with every word.

"True," he admits. "But I also wanna send you dumb memes again, and go for drives after work, and wake up in your bed. I wanna go for breakfast, and I still need to cook you my world-famous makguksu. I want to have not been a dick for the past two weeks, but I can't change that. I just wanna be what I once was to you again."

"And what was that?" You encourage.

There was never any label. Realistically, there's no right answer. 

Or at least there isn't, until Jungkook just simply says, "Yours."

And what else can you do when confronted by such a pathetic, yearnful admittance from him, except to give into how you're feeling, too?

Frantic in the way your hands are on his body—his arms, his waist, around his throat—there's a neediness to you. One he's missed. One he reciprocates, as his large palms stroke up your spread thighs, then get your legs wrapped around his hips.

The movements of your bodies are so well nurtured by now that you know what comes next; how the bulge in his trousers will press against your covered pussy, and how you'll whine at the contact no matter how minimal.

"Fuck," you whine as his hands slip under the skirt of your dress. It's an old routine at this point. He knows exactly where to go, what to do. His fingers press against the wet fabric of your underwear, just gently enough to make you moan a little harder into his mouth.

"Oh?" He smirks when he realises just how needy you are, his fingers stroking against your slick panties. "Missed me, too?"

"You're an asshole," you tell him with a smile. As his fingers get firmer, you can't help but whine. "You know I have."

He pulls back to look down at your body. Pushes the fabric of your dress out of the way. Curses when he realises the underwear you're wearing. Is his favourite pair. Red and lacy, there's a suspender belt to match it. While you're not wearing it right now, he's got pictures of you in it that belong in a fuckin' museum.

"Did you wanna fuck me tonight, huh?" He mumbles into your lips.

"Not everything is about you," you say with a smile, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Except it is. They're your favourite pair too, simply for how insanely he reacted to seeing you in them. Sure you're not in the full set up, but it was enough to have you feeling ever so confident as you left the house with Taehyung.

As his lips press against yours, his finger hooks beneath your underwear. Tugs them to the side. Gets you exposed for him.

"No?" He husks, as his fingers begin to sink between your soaked folds. "So this isn't about me, huh?"

You shake your head. Lie. "Never been less turned on."

He plays into your little theatrics. Has always enjoyed them.

"So you don't want me to do this?" He asks as his middle finger sinks into your entrance.

"Can't even feel it," you pretend, as if his thick knuckles aren't stroking against you in just the right way.

"No?" He grits. Sinks a second finger inside you. Gets you whining again, nails gripping onto his arms. His fingers slowly pump into you, easing you into the way it feels for him to be inside you.

There's something electric about Jungkook. Sends shivers through your spine. Always knew exactly how to manipulate your pussy into doing whatever he wanted, and now is no different. As you clench around him, he's overcome with satisfaction.

"This is just my fingers," he reminds you. "I don't think you can handle my cock."

Scoffing, you're desperately trying to pretend you aren't melting for him. "Please, I can handle it just fine."

"Sure you can, baby," he teases with so much arrogance you kinda wanna fight him again—but it's also why you like him. He challenges you. Gets your brain in overdrive.

And when he crouches in front of the counter, eyes aligned with your exposed cunt, you think you might actually lose it entirely.

His hands are on your thighs, spreading you further, getting a good look at the mess between your legs. When he sighs, the shallow breath that escapes his lips feels like absolute sin against your wetness.

"Oh, you really haven't been fucked since me, have you?" He teases again. "Look at how fucking keen you are. Been missing my cock, huh?"

"My vibrator's been doing the job just fine," you assure him, but it has him pulling back to cock a brow in your direction. He knows many things about you that other people don't, but he was not aware you owned any sex toys. Finds that his cock only throbs even harder in his pants at this revelation.

"Maybe so," he husks, leaning closer just so he drags his flat tongue up your folds. Has to stop himself from moaning, 'cause the taste of you is somehow even better than his memories. "But it's not better than me."

With a point to prove, and a desperation to reclaim you as his own, Jungkook doesn't entertain chitchat any longer. He dives back in, tongue lapping against your lips as his fingers push back inside you. The way he curls them just right as his tongue flicks against your clit is enough to make anyone lose their head.

Hands tangling in his hair, you find your body responding to him in the way it always does; pathetically, needily, hungrily. There's no dignity to be found.

His tongue works against you like a well trained craft, until his lips latch around your swollen bud and begin to lightly suck on it. When he hums in satisfaction—which he does often—the suction only grows stronger.

Gets you whimpering, "Like that. Fuck. Like that."

The build is just as undignified as you are. Your grip on his hair gets tighter, and the shake of your legs grows stronger. Dragging his tongue up and down your folds, he settles back on your clit. Flicks his pointed tongue against you until he knows you can't take it any longer and begins to suck again. Curves his fingers just right. Strokes you so gently that orgasm pours out of you like liquid gold. Guilds him into the most gorgeous aureate glow.

He doesn't ease. Keeps his lips wrapped around your clit. Makes sure you're spent.

When he finally releases you, he's breathing just as heavily as you are. Gets to his feet, fingers still plugged in your tight pussy. Is pleased to find you're just as insatiable as he is, pulling him in for the messiest of kisses as soon as you can. There's no care given for the fact he's covered in your arousal. You just want that tongue of his in your mouth—and when it is, you find yourself moaning from the withdrawal of his fingers.

Your hands reach to the waistband of his jeans to unhook his button. Get his zipper down. Your hands down the front of his trousers, when his thick cock is restricted by his tight boxer briefs. By the tip of his cock, a small wet patch resides; his desperation for you obvious. Gently rubbing your thumb across the pre-cum, all you can think about is his slit, and how you wanna kitten lick across it.

But it's been two weeks of near-constant pining, and all Jungkook wants is to bury himself inside you.

"Let me fuck you," he begs. "Please, baby."

If the girl who had first seen Jungkook in a shared lecture hall two years ago would have known she'd end up in a shitty bathroom with him begging for her, she'd have laughed. Wouldn't have believed it for a second.

Fresh-faced and so out of your comfort zone, the first few days at university were full of potential. It was before you had wised up to your place in the pecking order; when Jungkook was just a boy in your orientation class.

Skin kissed by European sun, there had been a radiance to him that seemed to captivate just about everyone. You weren't the only girl who had been sneaking glances his way.

You'd thought about him a lot in those first few weeks. Came to learn of his family ties around the same time you befriended Taehyung. Stopped seeing him around campus so much, and rarely ever thought of him.

But on those rare occasions you crossed paths, your gaze would always linger.

As he frees himself of his boxers, trousers suspended midway down his thighs, he gently rubs the tip of his cock between your folds and husks, "Always thought you were so pretty, y'know?"

Looking up at you for just a second, he smirks. Looks back down. Continues to rub himself against you, prepping himself with your slickness.

"Freshers week," he continues. "You never came to any of the parties."

The tip of his cock kisses your entrance, but doesn't penetrate. You stay in limbo just shy of what you both want.

"Had a stupid fuckin' crush on you," he admits. Has never acknowledged it before, but has always known. Kept it hidden. Safe. Secret.

"No, you didn't," you smile. He didn't even give you a second glance. Was always you seeking him out in lecture halls.

"I did," he says with absolute certainty. "You wore that little black sundress on our first day. Had ruffles on the shoulders."

It hangs in your wardrobe, a little out of style but still sweet in the right setting. You know the exact one he's talking about, because he's right. You did wear it on that very first day.

His cock nudges a little deeper. Enough to make you gasp, but not moan. Not yet. Gripping his arms, brows furrowed, you nod. He sinks himself just a little bit further. The feeling is overwhelming; fire on ice.

"Would have fucked you in that lecture hall, if you'd have let me," he smirks.

"You didn't even know my name," you counter, but he cuts your questioning off as he edges a little deeper, still. His hand dips to gently rub languid circles on your clit. He's not pushing himself any further, not yet. Wants to ease into how this feels.

"I did," he admits. "Listened extra hard during the roll call."

"So this has all been some big elaborate scheme to get into my pants, huh?"

"Is it working?" he jokes, leaning over to yank the cabinet above the sink open. A few random bottles and packets clatter into the sink, but he doesn't care.

He's looking on the top shelf, rifling through old boxes, sending more miscellaneous objects to their untimely demise. Spotting what he's after, he's assertive as he knocks the cabinet shut. Passes you the box.

"S'all there is. They alright?"

"Sure," you say, pulling one of the foil packets from the box. You check the date stamped on the front—only to see it's a year out of date. Some protection would be better than none, regardless of the date, but fuck it. You're on the pill. "You haven't fucked anyone else? In the last couple weeks?"

"What?" His brows contort in confusion. "No."

His expression softens, but is still laced with confusion when you toss the box of condoms down into the sink.

"I don't care. I don't want them—"

You're cut off by the way Jungkook clasps your jaw, keeping your eyes locked on his. There's a seriousness to him now; the same demeanour he holds himself with when he was taking photographs. He's intentional. Assertive.

"Promise me," he says with stern certainty. "You want this?"

When he's got you like this—legs spread, body his to claim, your soul to take—it's impossible to do anything but comply. See, things with Jungkook are reciprocal. Your feelings, your tortured misunderstanding of how a relationship could ever work, and his seriousness, now, too.

"I promise," you swear.

As a chaste kiss is pressed to your lips, his hands stroke down your spread thighs, pushing you a little further open for him.

"Can't unfuck me," he softly reminds you. Is taking his time not for the anticipation, but because he's scared. "If you fuck me raw—"

"Then I fuck you raw," you simply repeat, knowing that it's up to you to ease his woes. If anyone should be scared, it's you—yet there's a safety that comes with being with Jungkook. Smirk, then say, "Trust me. I know I can't unfuck you. I've been trying to forget—"

"Ouch," he laughs, nudging his nose up against yours.

"—but you're just..." you tailed off, not wanting to compliment him too highly. He's still in the dog house. "Memorable."

With a sardonic smile that he knows only means trouble, you reach down to grip his incredibly pert ass cheeks. Squeezing, just because you can, you encourage him to push even deeper into you—and he's the one who whines, now.

"God, you're so fuckin' tight," he praises with such pained desperation it almost sounds like he'll cry. He won't. It's just that he can't quite believe that he's raw inside you right now, and that you feel just as good as he always imagined. Better, even.

"Yeah?" You question, as you pull his hips closer, gasping as he finally sinks his full length into you once more. His fingers were thick, but they've got nothing on his cock. Like he's taken all the air from your lungs, your voice is all light and airy. Makes Jungkook even more insane.

"Yeah," he mumbles as he nods into a kiss that is just as feverant as his need to pulse his hips. He doesn't dare do it yet. Is waiting for you. "Feels so fuckin' good."

"So just fuck me," you hungrily moan into his lips.

You're challenging him deliberately, and it works a fucking treat when he pulls back with a grin. He doesn't withdraw himself, but he does pulse his hips ever so slightly. Keeps you plugged. Is just nudging even deeper into you as he keeps a hold on your thighs, keeping them spread nice and wide.

"Say please," he grunts as his pulsing becomes a singular deep thrust.

Your argumentative streak wants to fight.

You'll berate yourself later for the way you whimper, "Please."

His thick cock withdraws just a little to push back into you. He groans. Curses. Builds momentum. Speed.

The sound of his skin slapping against yours as he pounds himself into you is impossible to ignore. Your moans build. Double. Treble. He's grunting too, and then his lips are on your neck. It's a mess, quite frankly.

In the sordid shadows of this bathroom, your bodies become acquainted with an intimacy not yet bridged before. You can pretend to ignore each other in the hallways of your shared lecture buildings, but you'll never be able to ignore the desperation you have for one another. Jungkook was right. You can't unfuck him. And now he's fucking you raw, it only make it even more potent.

Harshly pulling himself out of you, Jungkook almost fuckin' cums on the spot when he realises how soaked he is from your arousal. It's not like it's a new thing, but skin on skin, it's so much more intense. Gasping from the sudden loss of pressure, you're a little unsteady. Lurch forward as if your body could stop him from withdrawing.

Holding the base of his thick shaft, Jungkook spanks against your pussy with his cock. Rubs your slick wetness around with his tip. Hooks his elbows under your thighs. Pulls you closer. Instructs, "Arms around my neck."

Wrapping an arm around your back, the other one tucks under your ass as he lifts you.

He turns. Presses your back to the wall, and lines himself up.

"Legs around me," he tells you, and as soon as you do, his cock pushes up into you again. He keeps you pinned against the wall as he begins to fuck himself into you, his lips pressing wet kisses to the curve of your neck.

The sight in the mirror behind him is lethal; his broad back covered by his shirt, but it doesn't matter. You know what he looks like. Know his muscles, and the valley of his spine, like the back of your own damn hand.

You wanna see it though. Give it a tug. Send him the right message. Get him tearing his shirt off and dropping it to the floor for you. Victory is so damn sweet.

"Kook," you whine as he really begins to get deep. "You're gonna make me cum."

"All over my cock, huh?" He grunts. "Gonna cum on cock, are you?"

His taunting only makes you whimper even more. "I'm so close."

And because he just likes to get you all whiney and needy, Jungkook stops. Puts you down. Gets you facing the mirror as you protest his unfair stealing of an orgasm.

But then he's lining himself up again, getting ready to take you from behind. Spanks your ass ever so quickly.

Sinking into you again, Jungkook curses. "Tighter like this."

"Good?" You pathetically check, and Jungkook can't help but think it's sweet.

"Yeah, babe," he promises, and pretends as if it's completely usual for him to speak to you so tenderly. "Feels so fuckin' good. Missed you so much, gorgeous. You and this tight cunt."

"Romance," you joke through your needy whines. He smirks at this, and delivers a curt little spank to your ass.

"I can be romantic," he assures you, as if you aren't being soundtracked by the sound of your skin slapping together, his thick cock fucking itself into your soaked hole. 

His eyes rise from the steady gaze he'd had on your ass to your eyes. 

Slowing himself, Jungkook holds his cock inside you without thrusting. Says, "I made that photo you took of us in your room my fuckin' phone wallpaper. I listen to that asmr guy you like before bed, every single fuckin' night. I keep one of your ribbons tied around my gearstick. That romantic enough for you?"

There's an incredibly bashful smile on your pretty face, which contradicts the way in which your pussy is tightening around him in the most lewd of ways. You're giggling when you say, "Shut up and fuck me."

But then he's giggling too, just how you like him to be. Says, "I missed your body, but I missed you more. Stupid."

"You're stupid."

"You're stupider."

"Kook," you laugh, as he's completely forgotten the task at hand. The way that he looks at you, you'd be forgiven for thinking he has. Truthfully, the connection he has with you is so much more than what sex has ever been for him before. 

His hips lightly pulse, as he says, "Sorry. Where were we?"

"Think you were gonna make me cum."

"Ah, yeah. That. My bad."

His gentle thrusts begin to build pace once more. The grin on his face drops a little as he begins to concentrate on you. Watching him in the mirror, you're perplexed to be reminded of just how ethereal Jungkook looks when he fucks.

The deep ridge between his brows intensifies, as his mouth hands slack. His cheeks hollow a little, and his eyes remain entirely focused. Dark. Deep. Brooding.

As his hand dips around to gently stroke against your clit, Jungkook is just as taken away by the way you look. He isn't sure what it is that gets his heart so heavy in his chest, but he knows that he wants you to cum. Doesn't give a fuck about himself.

The walls of your cunt begin to tighten around his length as your moans deepen. You whine his name and he encourages a response, but neither of you can really talk. A numbness is washing over you, your balance unsteady.

"I'm gonna..." you begin, but find it impossible to finish.

"I know, baby," he nods all out of breath and desperately fucked out. "Give me what I want. Cum for me."

You trust and keep your eyes on him, but the nudging on his cock against your g-spot and the slow rubbing of your clit is just enough to tip you over.

"Kook," you whimper as your walls begin to tighten around him, but it's fruitless. There's a shake to your legs, and he's the only thing keeping you supported.

"Oh, fuck," he curses from the strength of your pussy around him. He's shaking just as much as you are. "Cream on this cock, baby. Oh, fuck. Yeah.Just like that. You're gonna make me cum, too. Gonna make me cum so fuckin' hard. All in your pussy. You want that, huh?"

It's as you're desperately whining, cumming all around his thick shaft that Jungkook feels his body lose control. There's a tightness to his balls, and a shudder to his sternum, that he hasn't felt since the last time he was in your bedroom. Last time he was in you, more specifically.

"Kook," you whimper his name, and that's when Jungkook really can't hold back.

"Yeah, babe," he rasps, as his hard thrusts become pathetic stutters. "I'm cumming."

The announcement isn't needed, for you swear you can almost feel it as his thick cum begins to fill you. The lack of a condom makes it all the more primal, the way his body shudders indicative of just how much cum he's filling you up with. 

His body collapses on yours a little, his clammy torso pressed to your back. The dress you're wearing is barely on properly, and the feeling of his skin against yours is catastrophic. As intimate as sex is, it's this right now, the beat of his heart thrumming against your spine that is the real disaster. How you can ever look him in the eye again is beyond you.

But then his lips are pressing chaste kisses to the curve of your neck, and his hands are squeezing at your hips. He doesn't pull out. Keeps himself warm inside you. Says, "How the fuck am I ever supposed to give you up, huh?"

That's the thing.

He isn't supposed to, and you damn well know it.

Reaching back for some tissue to help you out, Jungkook slowly withdraws. Holds his hand beneath your pussy, then replaces it with tissue. Turns you around and lets you take over.

"Here's a radical idea," you offer, not looking at him as you quickly make sure you're decent. Stay standing with your legs crossed, just in case. "Don't."

Pulling his shirt back over his head, Jungkook presses his back to the wall. There's a distance between you, yes, but you don't really feel it, 'cause it's purely physical.

And it's not like it lasts for very long either, 'cause Jungkook decides he needs to kiss you all over again.

"Alright," he whispers against your lips. "Say we don't. Say I wanna be yours. What the fuck do we do now?"

You shrug. The answers aren't yours to decide. It's up to you both.

"Well, firstly I'm gonna text Tae," you hum. "Tell him you're still an asshole and that I need to be let out immediately."

It's been half an hour.

He came to check on things about ten minutes ago.

The music might be loud, but not loud enough to drown out the way you guys fuck. 

Summer had been quiet. In his car, in your empty house, you've never had to keep it down before. Didn't even realise quite how loud you were being.

Which is why Jimin is the one who unlocks the outside bolt with a smirk a few minutes later, Taehyung watching on with a little disgusted grimace a metre or so back.

"Gross," he whisper shouts at you, but then he's smiling, too. Notices how Jungkook touches you—the hand he has on the small of your back, and the way he clasps your hand as you begin to walk ahead of him��and finds it impossible to be mad.

"C'mon," Jimin calls behind himself, leading you up and out of the basement. "We're going to the diner."

"We?" You question, incredibly confused.

"We." He simply says. Doesn't leave it up for debate. Gathers up the rest of the Untouchables (though Claudia is noticeably absent), and tells them the same thing he told you. Drags Taehyung along as well.

Jungkook was scared of integrating you into his life, but there's no other way to do it. Has to rip the band aid off.

As you walk into Montgomery's, hand in hand with the boy who had spent his summer wasting away with you in here, both of you realise that maybe it isn't such a huge deal.

Or at least, you do until Maria clocks you. Eyes darting from you, to Jungkook, and then to your gently clasped hands, she's in a state of absolute shock. Almost drops her tray.

"Sorry, what the fuck?!"

[mrsbarnesblog]

i am not the only one who saw that, right?

masterlist

summary: your friends find out that you secretly dating their enemy, but their opinion might completely change when they see Rafe from another point of view

words count: 2.2k

warnings: secret relationship, pogue!reader, attempted assault, mention of blood, soft and protective Rafe

a/n: inbox is open for requests💘

“You cannot be dating Rafe fucking Cameron, Y/N!” John B exclaimed, burying his hands in his hair and walking all around the place. 

“No, seriously, this is not a good idea.” Sarah looked at you, giving out a nervous laugh. 

You were currently surrounded by your friends, who were all practically yelling at you after they accidentally saw a message from Rafe on your phone. You were one of the pogues; you never hanged out around the kooks, but somehow, when you were visiting Sarah a few months ago, you got into a random conversation with Rafe, and since that moment, the connection between you two has only gotten stronger. 

It was an instant click and as much as you both tried to deny the spark, it was there. As you started going out, secretly from everyone, of course, you decided to keep it private until the right time. 

“Alright, guys, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I knew that this would be your reaction. It just happened, okay?” You rubbed the bridge of your nose, already feeling a headache from the tense situation. All of your friends were standing on the opposite side of you and it felt like they were just attacking you. 

“What were you thinking? You know that he hates people like us, like you. We are pogues, Y/N. How the hell did that even happen?” Kiara was standing with her hands on her hips, as her piercing eyes were studying you. You felt awful looking at Pope, who was the one who always supported you, but he just shook his head and stepped away. 

“I don’t know. It just happened. We talked once when Sarah left, then I accidentally met him a few times in town, and then he texted me. He’s not bad when you know him closer.” You sighed. “Look, I know Rafe was a lot of trouble for us. He did bad things; I know that. But he’s not like that; he’s sweet and caring, and he has never shown any sign of being disrespectful towards me. I just can’t deny my feelings for him.”

“Honey, Rafe is not a good person. He doesn’t care about anything or anyone; he’s evil, selfish and manipulative.” Sarah stepped closer to you, touching your hand. “He’ll play with you, hurt your feelings and just throw you away.”

“And he probably just wants to get into your pants.” JJ grumbled, also taking a defensive position. 

“I haven't even slept with him yet, JJ!” You desperately snapped at him. It felt ridiculous, like all of them turned against you at the same time. Sure, Rafe wasn’t the sweetest person to them before, but they didn’t even give you a chance to say something in your defense. “And you’re wrong too, Sarah. All of Rafe’s actions were just to get people’s attention and appreciation. All it took for me to get on his soft side was to just listen to him and give him some affection. Other people didn’t care enough, including you and your father. He needs someone who he can trust and open up to because he’s hurt.” 

“No, Y/N. If you think that he loves you, then he just got into your head. My brother doesn’t love anyone. It will end badly; I just know that.” 

Tears gathered in your eyes, and a lump in your throat made it difficult to say anything back, so you just stupidly stayed there. You had no strength to fight with all five of them at the same time. You turned around, silently getting back in the car, even though your head was filled with doubt and dark thoughts because of their words. 

For the next few days, it was tough for all of you. You and the rest of the group were still close, and even though they were completely against your relationship, you still met and hung out. The pit in your heart was still there, no matter how hard you tried to act nonchalant and not let their words get into your head. 

Rafe noticed the change in your behavior—that you were upset with something—but he didn’t put any pressure on you and allowed you to decide for yourself when you wanted to open up. 

Pogues decided to go to some party on the cut near the beach and as much as you tried to refuse, Sarah and Kiara managed to drag you there. You all rarely went to such places, preferring to hang out in your little circle, but apparently everyone wanted to clear their heads and saw it as the best opportunity. 

It was pretty fun with a bunch of people you did not know, some music, and drinks, and you mostly hung out with your friends. Though quickly it got overwhelming and made you want to go home or at least go outside of the house to get some fresh air. As you left your friends and wanted out from the backyard to a part of the beach, you didn’t notice the guy who had been eyeing you the whole evening. 

He came out of nowhere from your back, his arms wrapped around your waist, lifting you off the ground. You yelled at the sudden and unwanted touch, and your heart seemed to drop into your stomach when you realised that it wasn’t just a joke from JJ, who liked to scare you. You started wiggling in his hands to get free, but he was fighting you back, dragging you up when you fell to your knees on the ground. 

It was such a mess trying to scratch and punch him that you almost did not notice his hand coming into contact with your face several times. You screamed again, this time loud enough, until you saw JJ running towards you. The guy behind you pushed you away as soon as he saw someone, and you fell to the ground with a loud huff. 

“That fucking bastard!” JJ was right near you, helping you to get up as tears streamed down your face. He tried to comfort you, checking your body for any injuries, but you pushed his hands away, wrapping your own around yourself in a defensive way.

“Oh my god, Y/N!” You heard Kiara, along with your other friends, calling your name. “What the hell happened?”

“H-he attacked me.” You sniffed, trying to catch your breath and, with shaking hands, reaching to the pocket of your jeans shorts to get out your phone. All of them looked at each other, questioning your actions, until you pressed someone’s contact button and put the phone to your ear. “Can y-you pick me up, p-please?” You sniffed again, now trembling from the adrenaline. 

“Baby? Are you crying? Where are you?” You heard your boyfriend’s concerned voice through the phone, feeling how JJ tensed beside you. 

“I’m on the cut. Near the beach. There’s a party and... Please, Rafe.” 

“I’m coming, angel. Just wait for me, ‘kay?” You heard the sound of the car engine at the other end of the line. Rafe didn’t ask any more questions, and as soon as you mumbled quiet 'mhm’ he ended the call. 

You all heard him before you saw him. The sound of the tires drifting through the sandy street was loud, drawing attention to the expensive car that was unusual to see at this part of the island. 

Rafe didn’t bother to properly park, turn off the engine or even close the door when he saw you sitting on some old chaise lounge, with his sister and Kie trying to talk to you and your other friends arguing nearby. 

The girls stepped away from you as soon as they saw Rafe running towards you with a furious expression on his face and ready to deal with anyone who made you cry. It looked like he didn’t even care about the pogues, with whom he always had to get into arguments; he was fully focused on your shivering form.

“Baby, what’s wrong? What happened?” He squatted down in front of you, and you started sobbing again. Your hands immediately found their place around his neck, and, before he could even properly look at your face, you pulled him closer to get some sense of comfort from his warmth and smell. Rafe hugged you back, soothingly rubbing your back. His eyes shot towards your friends, who were watching in awe at the interaction. “Which one of you did that?”

“It’s not us, you idiot. Some guy jumped her when she walked outside.” Sarah said, rolling her eyes at her brother. “JJ heard screaming, and when we walked outside, he ran away.” Rafe pulled away, finally taking in your appearance.

Your knees were covered in dried blood mixed with the sand. He gently took your hands to see the palms scratched from you trying to catch yourself before hitting the ground. Rafe’s eyes were burning with fury, showing his side that he rarely revealed in front of you. His hand reached to move your hair from your face, noticing a red, now already turning purplish, bruise covering the side of your cheek.

“Holy shit, sweetheart.” He softly brushed his fingertips along your cheek and you leaned into the touch, closing your eyes. Your bottom lip started quivering and you bit inside your cheek to calm yourself down. “Sh-h im here, okay? You’re safe. Did you see him? What did he look like? Just tell me and I’ll deal with it.” He almost begged, but you only shook your head. JJ suddenly stepped closer, slightly hesitating to actually normally communicate with his longtime enemy,  but he thought that it was the least that he could do for you.

As much as he hated The Kooks King, JJ knew that Rafe was the best option to find the guy who hurt you. 

“Tall, with dark and curly hair. Never seen him before, probably someone new on the island, but I’ll recognize him.” They looked at each other for a moment, and Rafe just simply nodded, turning his attention back to you. 

“I’ll find him, ‘kay? I promise I will.” He gently took both of your hands in his, bringing them to his lips to place a soft kiss on your knuckles. “We should go now. I need to take care of your knees and that bruise, baby. You don’t mind going to Tanneyhill, yeah?”

“Thank you, Rafe.” You whispered, slightly bending forward to ask for a kiss. Rafe smiled at you, his thumbs gently swiped the leftovers of the tears under your eyes, and then he kissed you on your forehead, nose, and gently pecked your lips. 

Your heart flattered at his soft touches and for a second, it felt like you two were in your own little bubble. Rafe's eyes shimmered slightly in the moonlight, and the way he looked at you, soft and caring, made you want to kiss him again and again. You suddenly snapped out of the trance, looking back at your friends, who all had different levels of shock and uncertainty written on their faces. 

“C’mon, pretty girl.” Rafe stood up, lifting you in bridal style without an effort, carefully not to hurt your bleeding knees. He almost walked away, but then sighed, turning back to look at his sister. “You coming home with us or somethin’?”

“Um, no, I’ll be with John B. It seems like I would be third wheeling with you anyway.” She shrugged, not being able to keep a smile when you two met with your eyes. 

Rafe then looked at JJ, thinking his words over. “I appreciate it, Maybank.” 

They exchanged a tight nod, both slightly shocked that for the first time ever, they communicated without biting each other's heads off. You leaned closer to Rafe, comfortably nestling in his protective hands, and looked at your friends, who were still too shocked to say anything. 

“I’ll see you guys later, okay? 

Everyone agreed, saying goodbye to you and asking you to text them when you get there safely. They saw how Rafe made sure to slowly put you into the passenger seat, then circled the car and drove away. An awkward silence fell around them, everyone at a loss for words. 

“Okay, so I am not the only one who saw that, right?” Pope spoke first, looking around the place as if he were trying to find something. “Rafe freaking Cameron just was acting cute and didn’t threaten to do something to us?” His own body physically shrugged at the word ‘cute’.

“I don’t know, dude. We all just probably drank something and it’s messing with our heads.” 

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

warning: bee hybrid yandere, kidnapping, oviposition, breeding, aphrodisiac

Taking you, the queen from his hive was strictly forbidden, even seen as taboo. You were meant to be shared and treasured by the entire hive… but he couldn’t stand it.

The thought of the other bee hybrids touching you and filling you with their filthy eggs made him see red.

Why couldn’t they understand that you were HIS? Not a single one of them deserved you, only he was worthy of depositing his eggs in the queen.

You woke up in a small room, the fluffy body of your captor draped over you and buzzing happily when he noticed you were awake.

“Oh, my queen, you’re up…”

He let out a low purring sound as he nuzzled against you. His fluff was warm and smelled nice, but you struggled a bit. “Where… am I?”

The bee hybrid didn’t seem phased at all by your confusion. “I took you away from the hive, don’t worry. You’ll be safe here, and you won’t have to be touched by so many people all the time…”

He caressed your cheek, his black eyes staring into yours as he leaned in to cover you in kisses. It hadn’t really been your choice to become the bee hybrid queen in the first place, so you didn’t bother trying to escape or complain.

Your life remained relatively similar to being in the hive. Every day he left to gather nectar for honey, coming back and immediately getting to work. When he was done, he always wanted to mate his precious queen and receive praise for all of his work.

But you really wanted to go home. You missed your life with the other humans, where you went to work, hung out with loved ones, and did as you pleased.

Bringing it up with him only made your life harder.

“Let you go..?”

He seemed confused by your sudden desire for freedom, the bee hybrid towering over you as he buzzed threateningly. “No, you must not be feeling well my queen. Letting you go would mean putting you in potential danger. Perhaps I need to show you how pampered you are…”

He was quick to pin you down, his lips peppering kisses along your neck almost like an apology before he bit down.

The bite was painful, making you cry out as he shushed you. “Shh, shh…”

You felt almost woozy as you watched honey drip from his mouth and into the wound, your eyes struggling to stay open.

But once it fully seeped into you, your eyes shot open and you felt your entire body heating up. Slick pooled between your legs, and his wings twitched excited as his cock stood at full attention.

“I’m going to take care of you, don’t worry… my sweet thing, my queen…”

The feeling of him fucking into you, of his eggs filling your womb had you cumming over and over again. Every little rub on your clit, every thrust had your body trembling.

You had never felt such pleasure before, your eyes hazy as his tongue tangled with yours.

Once he was done with you, your tummy was full and bloated, your pussy oozing cum.

“Liked it, didn’t you?” he cooed, his cock nudging your sensitive clit. “I can make you feel like this every day, but you have to be a good girl for me…”

The feeling was addicting, and even though you were stuffed to the brim, you begged for more.

His sweet, precious queen was already under his spell.

———————

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[catssluvr]

𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒂𝒍, aaron hotchner

aaron hotchner x fem!reader (906 words)

in which you get a necklace with aaron’s initial and he’s absolutely whipped for you <3

warnings: none, clingy hotch :)

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

One of your hands holds the generous amount of shopping bags, the other moves to unlock the door. You open it slowly, in case Jack's already asleep. It's just after dinner time but after all the plans Aaron and him had for today, you know he's probably fast asleep in his bed by now.

"Aaron?" You call out gently as you take off your shoes, immediately hearing his footsteps approaching. He appears seconds later, towel draped over his shoulder from doing the dishes.

"Hey, honey. How was shopping with the girls?" He asks with a small smile, leaning over to peck your lips before taking the bags from you and setting them down on the coffee table.

"Pretty good, got everything i needed to get. I also bought Jack a shirt." In your defence, it had a picture of his latest cartoon obsession. How could you resist it?

"You didn't have to." He takes a step towards you and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

"I disagree." You retort, though you know he doesn't mind you buying thing for Jack. He's not your own, but he's your boy nevertheless. "Is he asleep?"

"Yeah, just put him to bed." Aaron moves to hold your face, leaving kisses all over you forehead. Barely getting to see you on his weekend off feels like some kind of torture and he has plans to not leave your side until Monday.

"Hm, can i go give him a goodnight kiss? Wanna leave his new shirt there so he wakes up to a surprise." You smile eagerly, chuckling at his false annoyed groan.

"Sure, hun. I'll finish the dishes and meet you upstairs." He answers, giving your back a soft tap as you rush to pick up the bag and run upstairs.

You pad into Jack's bedroom, kneeling besides his bed to kiss his forehead gently. Setting the bag at the end of his bed, you leave the room as silently as you came in.

You head to the bedroom that by now is just as yours as it's Hotch's. Gathering one of his shirts before entering the bathroom to get ready for bed.

When you come out, you're met with the sight of Aaron in only a shirt and boxers. Sitting against the headboard of the bed as he waits for you.

"How was your day?" You move under the covers to get comfortable while he starts listing all the activities him and Jack did today.

His hands move to massage your sore legs and you can't help but smile at his thoughtfulness. But they come to a stop once his gaze falls on the gold necklace peaking out from your shirt. He hooks a finger around it, pulling it out from it's hiding place.

Aaron eyes you curiously as it is now completely visible, a small 'A' adorning the middle of the necklace.

"What's this?" He asks, the answer quite evident but he can't get himself to believe it. He looks at you lovingly, brown eyes contrasting with yellow light and making your heart race.

"Oh, i saw it at store and it was too pretty not to get. Besides, you're a part of me and i wanted people to know it." You answer almost sheepishly, fingers playing with the fabric of his shirt. "It's also waterproof so i never have to take it off."

Aaron swears his heart might jump out of his chest. He knows you love him, he just didn't know it was this loudly. He hopes you never stop doing it.

He wonders what the best reaction to this would be, but he can't get himself to think about it too much before he's tugging you closer. Lips pressing against yours in a gentle kiss.

"I'll get one with yours." He mumbles a bit too seriously and you can't help but laugh.

"You don't wear necklaces, Aaron." You hold his face gently, making sure he knows you appreciate the suggestion anyway. You don't need him to get one too, you're content like this.

Aaron hums with a thoughtful expression, "I'll get it engraved on my watch then." He insists and you have to hold back another laugh at the way he raises his eyebrows trying to persuade you.

"Aaron." You try to sound stern but it's prove quite impossible when he kisses your cheek over and over again.

"How about on my handkerchief?"

"Please don't. We'll be looking like an old married couple." You tease with an affectionate smile.

"We could be." His answer is way more sweet than you expected it to be, heat rushing to your cheeks. He smiles at that and pulls you impossibly closer.

"Are you proposing, Hotchner?" You tease further, though your heart is beating wildly in your chest. He's way too nice.

"You think lowly of me." He plays along, his own smile never leaving his face.

Silence falls over you two for a moment and you take advantage of it to lay your head against his chest, relaxing at the sound of his heart beating against your ear.

"Thank you, seriously." Aaron mutters with a gentle squeeze on your shoulder and kiss against your hair.

"Don't bother." Your words come out a bit slurred, sleep starting to evade you. "Love you."

"I love you." He pulls the covers up to your shoulders. He makes note to start looking for rings before his own eyes fall shut.

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

love you,

cat 🤍

[yuujispinkhair]

Attending a formal family event with Sukuna

Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female). Fluff with some sexual implications. 1.3k words. Minors don't interact. Divider @/plutism

You didn't want to go to your great-aunt's 80th birthday party, where you only know about a third of the people, but they all seem to know you, and you are expected to do awkward small talk. But you couldn't back out, and now you are here in this fancy hotel, wearing a party dress and uncomfortable shoes with heels that make you feel wobbly on your feet.

But luckily, Sukuna is next to you, letting you hold onto his strong arm so you won't make a fool of yourself by falling in front of everyone. When you think about it, it was very easy to convince your boyfriend to accompany you. You even got the impression that he was happy that you wanted to bring him along to such a big family event, letting even the most distant family member know that Sukuna is the man in your life.

And surely, everyone knows by now. Sukuna has all eyes on him. He stands out with his imposing figure, the pink hair, and the face tattoos and various piercings. You can see the curious glances he gets, but Sukuna is someone who doesn't give a fuck, and instead even basks in the attention he gets, always grinning smugly at everyone who looks his way. And he never lets go of you, making sure everyone knows who he is here with.

It makes you feel strangely proud, too. You won't say it so as not to feed your boyfriend's arrogance even more, but you are beginning to enjoy the looks Sukuna receives. It feels good to show him off as your boyfriend. He looks sinfully good in his black pants and the black dress shirt that sits so snugly on his athletic figure, accentuating his broad shoulders and all the firm muscles.

But it's not just that Sukuna is sexy eye candy on your arm. You are grateful he is by your side because you feel much more at ease with him keeping you company. As boring and awkward as events like these can be, Sukuna is making it better, just like he always makes everything better.

He stands behind you close enough so you feel his tall, firm body brush against you, giving you comfort and security. And providing constant entertainment.

Sukuna leans down to rest his chin on top of your head, hugging you loosely and watching the crowd with his cat-like eyes, analyzing everyone in this room and sharing his deductions with you in his sexy, low voice the whole time.

You laugh and sometimes exclaim in mock outrage, but you find Sukuna's comments very fitting and funny. Your boyfriend is always a first-class shit-talker, and at least the hours pass faster when he is here to make you laugh with his surprisingly accurate character studies of each and every family member.

You catch yourself leaning against Sukuna, resting more of your weight on him, knowing he can easily take it. And he hums approvingly.

One strong arm is wrapped around your waist, Sukuna's large hand sprawling casually and yet possessively over your stomach, high enough so he can feel your heart beating under his fingers. A heart that is currently picking up speed because you can feel Sukuna's firm muscles press against your back, and his breath is ghosting over your neck before he places a soft kiss right under your earlobe.

The band starts to play, and all the older couples gather on the dance floor and wave at you to join them. You shake your head apologetically, but Sukuna takes your hand firmly in his and tugs you along, making you complain all the way to the dancefloor, telling Sukuna that you can't dance, but he just laughs and grins that boyish grin at you,

"Doesn't matter what you can or can't do, princess. I'll take the lead, so don't worry."

Sukuna spins you around the dance floor amidst the elderly couples as if he is doing this for a living. You stare at him with big eyes, while Sukuna smirks smugly and informs you that his grandpa taught him and Yuuji how to dance because he said a man needs to know how to take his girl dancing.

You realize you have already relaxed in Sukuna's arms, letting him take control and trusting him blindly to keep you upright. You see several nods of approval from the couples around you as you dance past them - or rather, your boyfriend steers you past them.

"I think you are winning their hearts, baby."

"Of course I am."

After a few more songs, Sukuna leads you back to your table, and you lean into his side and whisper a thank you to him, not even knowing what you tank him for right now. For dancing with you, or for making an effort to get your family to like him, or just for being here with you.

Sukuna answers it with one of his rare dazzling smiles and a whispered, "I love you," which you return with an equally whispered, "I love you, too," and a soft smile.

Your great-aunt pulls you to the side later and tells you that your boyfriend is such a handsome young man. She doesn't really like the face tattoos, but oh, it doesn't matter, right? If that is what young people do nowadays, and he looks good with them and is so handsome and so tall! Such a charming young man!

"Does he make you happy?"

You nod and beam at your great-aunt, unable to stop smiling from ear to ear,

"Yes, he does. He makes me very happy."

And she gets that cheeky expression on her face and nods knowingly,

"Oh, I bet that goes for every aspect of your relationship, huh?"

She winks at you, leaving no doubt about what she is implying. And you feel your face heat up, stuttering nervously and trying to laugh it off while your great-aunt pats your arm and tells you,

"Make sure to keep him, honey. A handsome, tall man who makes you happy and looks like he can protect you is always a good choice!"

You walk back to Sukuna, who is leaning casually against the wall with his hands shoved into the pocket of his suit pants. There's a shit-eating grin on his beautiful face, and you roll your eyes as you stop in front of him and tilt your head to look up at your boyfriend's face.

"What did your aunt say about me, princess?"

"Basically that you are very handsome and that she thinks you are good in bed."

The smug smirk on Sukuna's face grows even bigger, and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer to him, making you sway a bit on your heels, so you stumble against him and end up bracing yourself with both hands on Sukuna's chest. He sounds far too conceited when he says,

"Well, she is right. Wouldn't you agree?"

Sukuna cocks his head, waiting for your confirmation, and you laugh and wrap your arms around his neck, getting on your tiptoes with a matching teasing grin on your face. You slowly lean closer to Sukuna's tattooed face, pressing a little kiss on his cheek before you look deeply into his amused maroon eyes,

"I don't know, baby. Maybe I need a little reminder."

And Sukuna laughs softly,

"Oh, don't worry. I'll refresh your memory all night. And I promise to be very thorough."

His tongue flicks out to lick over your lips teasingly before it pushes into your mouth, and Sukuna kisses you deeply while his arms tighten around your waist, pulling you even closer to his tall, muscular body.

Maybe that 80th birthday party wasn't so bad after all.

I AM SIGHING SO LOUD 😭😭💗💗 I have no idea why I thought of this scenario, but it wouldn't leave my mind anymore, so I HAD to write it. The thought of bad boy Sukuna being able to charm your family into liking him makes me very soft for him :((

I hope you enjoyed it!! Thank you so much for reading! Reblogs and comments would be very sweet 💗