#it’s what they’ve desperately needed
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#+naomi#it’s what they’ve desperately needed#still rooting for a Brazil gold (I can dream) but ya know. no doubt they’re special#sophia smith#trinity rodman#mal swanson#paris 2024#olympics 2024#uswnt
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I want shido to turn out to be rllly insecure and shit
#HEAR ME OUT FOR A SECOND OKAY#Ik a lot of guys that r like him#On surface at least#They’re loud and constantly in trouble and they get into a lot of fights#Nd u see them and go “yeah he just doesn’t give a fuck”#But when u get to know them it turns out they do give a lot of fucks actually#they actually care sm and it’s fucking stupid how hard they try to look like they do not#and they’ve almost always came to the conclusion that only way to stop thinking so lowly abt themselves is to just#Not think at all#But this behavior leads to everyone degrading them as a joke bc it’s funny and they’re a silly guy who doesn’t care so it’s ok right???#so they also start to make self depreciating jokes to satisfy their desperate need to fit in#which makes them think more and more which makes them repeat the cycle again and and and#It’s depressing how many guys r like this but whatever anyways#DO YOU GET WHAT I MEAN#SHIDOU FITS PERFECTLY INTO THAT TROPE#HE HAS A DEPRESSING STORY IK IT#anyways on a second note I love befriending that type of guys bc they’re actually rlly cute#+ they almost always have this one hobby they talk to no one abt (bc it’s too girly or too weird etc) that they’re rlly rlly excited abt#blue lock
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so in my sonic underground rewrite bartleby after shooting Sonia on an eggman airship in the middle of his morality crisis coming to a head gets exploded along with the ship after the hedgehogs narrowly escape ad he lands on angel island, very unconscious and barely alive, where knuckles finds him (and the two have not ever met each other before or know of each other’s existence) and helps this mysterious injured random guy. By the way the shooting Sonia and exploding is like the season one finale. Bartleby spends the majority of season two stuck on angel island dealing with the aftermath of his morality crisis, helping out knuckles bc knuckles helped him and what else is he going to do, they become friends (and maybe develop a Thing, I haven’t decided yet) eventually the hedgehogs show up on the island for whatever reasons and there’s a confrontation bc the last time they saw him, he shot sonia. And knuckles didn’t know this and he feels betrayed and bartleby runs off all dramatic bc it’s him, emotions cool off a bit and they go after bartleby to talk and he apologizes and tells them that he’s on their side now, but he wants to stay on angel island until he’s needed. They make up, yayyy hugs and friendship.
#i speak#this is mostly just late night brainstorming so don’t really pay attention to it#See before the season one finale bartleby starts off as a snobby rich boy and Sonia’s best friend#They’ve been engaged since they were children but of course the secret is that Sonia’s aromatic and bartlebys gay so. Lavender marriage of#Sorts.#And he’s rather emotionally stunted but doe’s truly care for his best friend but he’s also a sheltered rich boy so when Sonia becomes a reb#Robotnik manipulates him into thinking she’s being brainwashed by her evil terrorist brothers and he has to save her and bring her back and#So he’s a reoccurring antagonist for the first season chasing after them and continuing to fail and he’s threatened by Robotnik and gradual#More and more desperate and losing sleep and questioning his ideals and who he’s fighting for and visually is much less put together as wel#And then in the season finale they’re on the airship and he and Sonia have a confrontation where she tries to reason with him and get him t#Join them but he’s not listening because if he’s wrong then he’s totally irredeemable and he’s too deep into it to stop now and so he shoot#Her. He realizes what he’s done and is horrified and he runs away like always and then sonic and manic show up and get Sonia back to their#Ship or whatever and then the airship explodes just in time with bartleby on it#hm. Certainly typed a Lotmore than I meant to#I need to sleep. Welp#bartleby montclair#sonic underground
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shared spaces — t.n. & m.r. & l.b.
pairing: fem!reader x theo nott x mattheo riddle x enzo berkshire. new girl au — in which you live together.
warnings: smut 18+, foursome, threeway kiss, oral sex (m. receiving), double penetration (unprotected vaginal and anal sex), fingering, bad italian probably (sorry!), creampie, praise, choking
word count: 4.6k
summary: a night of drinking with your roommates takes an unexpected turn when innocent teasing escalates into a foursome you’ll never forget.
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Roommates. That’s all you, Theodore, Mattheo and Lorenzo were. Not friends, fuck no. Just… roommates. Nothing more, nothing less. Roommates you could kill with your bare hands at times, that is— especially when you were lying in bed late at night, headphones turned up to max volume, while all three boys were busy slamming their cock into whatever random girl was foolish enough to go home with them that day. Or when you came back to the cramped apartment, swung open the freezer, and discovered that they’ve eaten all the ice cream you’d been looking forward to eating all day.
Oh, how you desperately wished you were living somewhere else in those moments— anywhere, really. But unfortunately, you didn’t have a choice. You urgently needed a place after breaking up with your cheating ex-boyfriend, and this was the best you could find at that time.
But it was fine. Not great, but fine. You lived your own life, and so did they. You didn’t talk to them much—only when necessary—and avoided them as much as you could. It might sound unfriendly and hostile, you were fully aware of that, but they were too busy bragging to each other about the girls they hooked up with anyway, and you had no desire to be part of that conversation. And it was whatever. You were content like this, minding your own business. And you were planning to continue living exactly like this until you found a better place to live… But was that still what you really wanted?
After a few chaotic months of living together, everything began to change dramatically. As much as you despised these same boys not too long ago—well, you still very much do—the dynamics between the three of you had completely shifted. You weren’t just roommates anymore, no, you were… a little more than that.
What exactly, you might ask? Well, Lorenzo liked to call it RWB (roommates with benefits), which resulted in a slap to the head each time he brought it up. You flat-out refused to ever call it that. And besides, whatever the hell it was, you didn’t even want to label it.
Anyway, to cut straight to the point without beating around the bush any longer— you were having sex with your roommates. Yes, each one of them. All fucking three. The three boys that you used to fight with over the most minuscule things you could possibly think of, are now the same boys pinning you down onto your mattress until you’re drooling all over the sheets ‘cause of how good they were fucking you. It all strangely unfolded so naturally and so gradually, as if the lines between friendship and desire were slowly fading away without anyone noticing. Still, it felt wrong, it felt dirty, but god, it felt so fucking good too.
To go back to the beginning and provide some much-needed context, it all started with them sharing you, actually. But not at the same time— no, that felt far too weird and awkward. Instead, they took turns sleeping with you separately, with each one of them fucking you whenever the mood struck, which happened a lot. Just casually brushing past them in the kitchen and feeling your ass press against their crotch was enough to drag you into their rooms. And it was fucking amazing— each one of them had their own unique qualities, fucking you in ways the others couldn’t.
Theo, for instance, was great at dirty talk and foreplay. He’d shamelessly whisper filthy words to you in Italian with that low, seductive voice of his as his fingers were buried deep inside of you, curling up so perfectly— he never failed to get you dripping wet in an instant.
Mattheo was a fucking god at eating you out— he could make you cum within seconds, the way his tongue skilfully sucked on your clit had you gripping his brown locks tightly.
And Lorenzo? He could put you into positions you never knew were possible, hitting spots so incredibly deep inside of you that your legs trembled uncontrollably each time you found yourself in his bed.
But still, it had its downsides. Fucking each one of them individually meant a lot of sex and left you sore and limping around, which eventually began to exhaust you, pushing you past your limits physically. It was simply too much for you to handle. All three of their sex drives were sky-high, and you, being just one girl in a house with three boys, just couldn’t fulfil their needs all the time.
So that’s when threesomes began to happen. And ohhh, a new world opened up to you. It was exhilarating, it was experimental, it was even better than the sex before, and with all the attention on you, you couldn’t get enough. So far, you’ve explored every possible threesome combination, and their skills combined were absolutely mind-blowing. You were hornier than ever—more needy, more aroused—and so were they.
But was that really the limit? threesomes? well, you thought it was— until tonight happened. It was just another drunken night with the boys, gathered in the cosy living room, playing whatever random board games you had dug out from the back of your closet, stacked away and long forgotten since you moved in.
The evening began so innocently, filled with laughter and lighthearted chatter as you drank some leftover alcohol from a party the week prior— until you unconsciously started inching closer to them, the chilly night breeze sneaking through the windows causing you to seek more warmth. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, though. You always became touchy and clingy whenever you were drunk— everyone knew that.
But with them being intoxicated as well, they found it increasingly difficult to control themselves around you, eyeing you with hungry, lustful gazes, especially as your lace bra temptingly peeked out from under your tight-fitting top and your short skirt inched higher with every movement you made.
Usually, after one of these nights, you’d end up going to bed with one of them—maybe two if the night called for it—but there was always one of them who was too tired or had some other girl come over anyway. Tonight was undeniably different, though, and you could feel it— they all wanted you.
Lorenzo and Mattheo sat on either side of you, with Lorenzo’s wandering hand slowly trailing over your bare, goosebumps-covered thigh, sending shivers cursing through your body, while Mattheo’s hand rested around your waist under your shirt, rubbing gentle circles on your soft skin with his thumb. Their warm hands felt nice on your cold body, but you couldn’t deny the ache building between your legs at both their irresistible touches.
The scent of their musky, aromatic colognes mingled with the smell of all kinds of alcohol, filling your nostrils, as their warm bodies pressed closely against yours, causing a small, amused smile to form on your lips at the sudden realisation that there was more than enough room on the couch for both of them. But no, they wanted to sit as close as possible to you, eagerly craving the feeling of your skin against theirs, even though a barrier of fabric still separated you from them. You didn’t have to read their minds to know how badly they wanted to rip it off your body.
Meanwhile, Theo sat across from you, watching the scene before him unfold with a cocky, lopsided smirk and dark eyes, fully aware that both drunken enzo and mattheo lacked any ounce of self-control strong enough to resist you, so he lazily let them do all the work of getting you aroused and horny before joining. Occasionally, he took a slow sip from his drink, but his intense gaze never left yours, absorbing the way you reacted to their touches and he knew— under your tiny skirt, your panties were soaked already.
And god, he was right. Just the slightest, teasing touch had you dripping wet already, as their firm hands continued to roam over your body, growing more hungrily and desperately with each passing second, both of them breathing heavily on either side of you.
For a fleeting moment, you lock eyes with Theo through your drowsy gaze, his own intense eyes fixated on you as your roommates explored your body, only making you more desperate and turned on.
“Sei così calda.” Theo murmured in a low, husky voice, his eyes glued to your body, eliciting an irritated groan from Mattheo as he rolled his eyes in annoyance.
“Oh, shut up mate, no one can understand you.” he retorted, frustration lacing his tone. Theo simply chuckled in response, completely unfazed by him, fully aware of the underlying reasons for his annoyance. Mattheo hated it whenever Theo spoke Italian because he knew it gave him an undeniable advantage with girls, who swooned all over Theo the moment seductive Italian words flowed from his lips.
“Be nice, Matt” you warned, trying to appear stern but the alcohol cursing through your system made you uncontrollably let out a small giggle, causing Mattheo’s expression to soften too.
“I am nice. Is having my hands all over your body not me being nice, princess?” he teased with a cheeky smirk, his hand trailing down your bare back under your shirt toward your ass as his eyes hungrily gazed right at you through half-lidded eyes, a combination of lust and intoxication evident in their depths, his warm body merely inches away from yours. Your hazy, drunken state, their warm hands gliding all over your chilled skin, theo’s piercing eyes staring right at you— your head felt like it was spinning.
Suddenly, as if reading each other’s minds, both boys gently yet eagerly brushed your hair from your neck to expose it, then attached their soft lips to the sensitive skin at the same time, sloppily sucking dark hickeys into your neck from both angles. You couldn’t help but let out a breathy moan, helplessly pressing your thighs together to create some friction as Mattheo and Lorenzo breathed heavily right into your ear, sending electric shivers down your spine.
They were both becoming more and more desperate, frantically sucking on your skin, the alcohol coursing through their bodies and intense desire to have you blurring their minds and causing them to lose all inhibitions. Mattheo groaned in pleasure, taking a not-so-subtle sniff as licked your neck like a popsicle, leaving a slick trail of saliva in his wake. He felt lightheaded, completely entranced by your sweet scent and the softness of your skin, his hand greedily squeezing your waist.
“Mmm, I can, like, taste your perfume… so sweet and… a bit… alcoholic, like a— like a pornstar martini.”
“What the—” Lorenzo instantly pulled away from your neck, glaring at Mattheo with a disgusted look on his face, his top lip curling in distaste and his brows furrowed in disbelief.
“Mattheo, shut the fuck up, will you?”
“What did I do now?!”
“You’re ruining the mood, saying weird shit like that.”
“Oh, fuck off—”
Before they could bicker any further, you abruptly grasped both their jaws at the same time and gently guided their heads towards yours into a sudden kiss, your soft lips pressing against theirs as their eyes reluctantly fluttered shut.
You could tell they were hesitant at first, both of them unwilling to touch each other in any way, but the drinks they had earlier were working its magic as you quickly felt their tongues eagerly moving against yours, their hesitation disappearing in a split second.
Soon, all three of you were completely entangled in the kiss, with one of their hands on the back of your head, drawing you in, while another firmly squeezed your bare thigh, as though trying to steady himself. The world around you seemed to fade for a moment as you pulled them closer and closer, spit mixing between you three, and the usually noisy living room was unusually quiet for once, except for the sounds of heavy breathing, soft moans, and wet lips smacking together.
The tension was only rising more, all of you growing more eager with each passing second, your tongues moving in perfect harmony with each other, as though you’d done this a thousand times before. And you were yearning for even more, all of you were, your body trembling with need as your arousal slicked your thighs, dripping onto the couch beneath you. The initial hesitation to touch each other had long faded by now, desire consuming you all, thickening the air with an overwhelming mix of lust and anticipation, until—
“Alright. that’s enough.” Theo broke the silence as he suddenly stood in front of the couch, casting a dark shadow over the three of you. He assertively took your wrist and forcefully pulled you up from your seat, while both boys stared up through drowsy eyes, their swollen, spit-covered lips glistening, and your lipstick messily smudged across their flushed faces, wearing dazed and slightly bewildered expressions that hinted at their drunken state.
In one swift, fluid movement, Theo effortlessly threw you over his shoulder, eliciting a surprised squeal from you followed by a drunken giggle, as he playfully slapped your ass with an amused, mischievous smirk dancing on his lips.
The moment Theo walked into your room, he roughly threw you onto your bed, your body bouncing slightly with the impact as you gazed up at him. In contrast to the chilly living room, the temperature here was more pleasant, with the lingering scent of flowery candles you lit earlier still filling the room.
Theo approached you with a dominant air, each long step creaking on the wooden floor, sending your heartbeat racing. When he finally stood before you, he traced his thumb gently over your burning cheek, before slipping it into your mouth, making you suck on it and he groaned at the sight, his eyes darkening. “So fuckin’ pretty.”
Heat flooded your core at the sudden praise, your lace panties now uncomfortably soaked with arousal. Drool trickled from the corners of your swollen lips, his thumb still deep in your mouth as you gazed up at him with half-open, dazed eyes. His tall, imposing figure loomed over you, casting a shadow as he tilted his head in approval, drinking in the sight of you beneath him.
He slowly pulled his thumb out of your mouth, a thin trail of spit still connecting your lips to his finger before he made his way to your bed, lowering himself onto it and motioning with his hand for you to come closer. His demeanour was power-driven, cocky, and lustful, as he leaned back against the headboard, his legs spread wide, his eyes devouring you. You crawled toward him on all fours, giving him a perfect view of your cleavage, your tits nearly spilling out of your shirt as you moved.
“You look so sexy right now, I might just keep you all to myself tonight.” he growled, his voice low and commanding. He didn’t waste much time before gripping the back of your head and eagerly pulling you into a fierce, hungry kiss, his tongue dominantly entering your mouth, not wanting to waste any of the little time he had alone with you.
In the background, you could faintly hear Mattheo and Lorenzo still in the living room, their voices muffled through the thin walls as they bickered once again, but you could make out a sharp “don’t you fucking dare tell anyone about this!” and frustrated “you really can’t kiss, you know that? we’re never doing this shit again!”, followed by an exaggerated sound of gagging, causing you to giggle into the kiss.
Theo's warm hand slowly traced from your waist down to your ass, relishing the way you melted under his touch, while his other hand guided yours to his crotch, placing it over his already throbbing erection before he finally pulled away from the kiss.
“Feel how hard I am for you?” theo whispered in a low, sultry voice, the words sending a rush of heat through your body as you palmed him through his tight pants. “All this is for you, amore.”
Just then, you heard Mattheo and Lorenzo stumble down the hallway, their footsteps heavy and unsteady as they sprinted towards your room, clumsily knocking over whatever was in their way, too eager to even care, before finally stepping inside and hastily slamming the door shut.
The first view that met their eyes was your ass raised high in the air, angled perfectly towards them, your skirt having ridden up all the way over your waist, giving them a perfect view of your drenched underwear as you were bent over, hungrily kissing theo.
“Holy… fuck…”
“So— uhm, yeah, we’re— we’re here” they stammered, staring at the scene in front of them with their mouths half open and painfully hard boners visible through their pants, forming noticeable wet patches on the fabric.
Theo's hand on your ass then travelled to the waistband of your panties, teasingly sliding it down and tossing it carelessly to the floor, revealing your glistening cunt with your arousal dripping down the insides of your thighs. Both Mattheo and Lorenzo felt as if they were about to explode and could cum at the sight alone already, but were quickly snapped back to reality when you pulled away from Theo's lips and broke the silence.
“So? You’re gonna help me out or what?” you taunted impatiently with a teasing grin, feeling painfully empty as you squeezed around nothing. They both blinked erratically as they were pulled out of their trance and nodded their heads, eagerness evident in their expressions.
You soon felt both their roaming hands on your body, exploring every inch eagerly with fervent curiosity as they hastily undressed you until you were completely naked, making you more aroused with each tantalising second. You felt their hands everywhere— squeezing your ass, pinching your sensitive nipples, teasingly brushing against your aching cunt. It was driving you wild as you simultaneously unbuckled theo’s belt, staring up at him while he gazed back down at you with that smug, cocky smile that made your heart race.
“You think you can handle all of us at the same time, bella?” you nodded without a second thought, your mind completely consumed by the desperate need for all three of them as you freed Theo’s throbbing cock from his pants, instantly jumping against his stomach as precum leaked from the swollen tip.
“Good fuckin’ girl.” you parted your lips, letting a glistening trail of spit land on his cock as he intently watched you with hungry, lust-filled eyes, biting his lip in anticipation, before your mouth finally met the swollen tip. You gently swirled your tongue over the most sensitive part, causing him to let out a deep, guttural moan, meanwhile behind you, you felt a pair of fingers—you weren’t even sure whose—rubbing your clit in slow circles as you simultaneously heard the frantic unbuckling of belts.
“Just like that, baby, fuck!” Theo’s hand moved to your head, fingers threading through your hair before taking a fistful of it and pulling your hair back into a loose ponytail, ensuring it was out of your way. Your head slowly sank down, taking him all the way into your mouth until you felt the tip brush against the back of your throat and your lips pressed against his balls, causing Theo to throw his head back in pure bliss.
When you felt two fingers suddenly enter you, you moaned loudly around Theo, the sound vibrating against him as the fingers curled up perfectly against your sensitive g-spot. Feeling desperate for more, you pushed your ass back with the movements, instinctively trying to create more friction as the slick, lewd sounds of their digits pumping deep inside of your wet cunt filled the room, mixing with your soft whimpers of pleasure.
“Fuck, she’s so wet” you heard Mattheo groan from behind you as if you weren’t even in the room, his voice thick with desire as he quickly rubbed circles on your aching clit and watched Lorenzo finger you at the same time, causing your legs to shake uncontrollably, your arousal dripping all over their quick hands.
“She’s squeezing me so fuckin’ tight— I can tell she wants more.” They were bringing you closer and closer to the edge, your release building with each passing second, but he was right— you wanted, no, needed more. You were craving to feel them, both of them.
“Yeah? You want more, baby? You want us to fuck you at the same time, hm?” Mattheo questioned, and you instantly pulled your lips from Theo with a soft plop, panting as soft ‘please’s desperately slipped from your spit-covered lips.
“Alright. But, uh, let me fuck her ass this time, yeah?” Lorenzo demanded at mattheo as he aggressively shoved him out of the way with his shoulder, causing mattheo to stumble to the side before retaliating with both hands pushing against his chest.
“Nah, it’s my fucking turn.”
“What the fuck do you mean?”
“What do you mean, what do I mean? I'm telling you mate, it’s my tu— alright. rock, paper, scissors to settle this, yeah?”
“Hm, fine… ready? rock…pa—“
“Oh my god, you fucking idiots. Enzo, get under me now before I lose my patience!” you snapped, drunk exasperation lacing your voice while Theo lifted himself from beneath you, shaking his head in a mix of disapproval and amusement, a grin spreading across his face.
“Whatever.” Lorenzo sighed defeatedly as he replaced Theo’s position, pulling you on top of him, his aching cock already nudging at your entrance. Theo settled beside you on the bed, swiftly passing the lube from the nightstand to Mattheo, all while amusingly watching Lorenzo make an even bigger fool of himself.
“What? You don’t want to fuck me? ‘Cause you can go jerk off in the fucking corner if that’s what you’d rather do.” You hissed at Lorenzo, glaring down at him. His eyes momentarily widened in surprise, before he shook his head in playful defiance and let out a low chuckle. Abruptly, he gripped your jaw, pulling your face close to his, and kissed you hungrily as if apologising. “Oh, c’mon baby, you know I love your pussy.”
A small, satisfied smile uncontrollably tugged at the corners of your lips as he rubbed his cock along your folds, teasing you while gazing up at you with that mischievous, sly smirk of his. He then firmly gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your skin, and slowly pushed into your dripping cunt, hissing at the feeling of being swallowed by your warmth. You quickly steadied yourself with your hands resting on his bare chest, feeling him deep inside of you and completely stretching you out, yet still craving more.
“You ready baby?” Mattheo asked from behind you as he spread your cheeks, gazing down with hungry, lustful eyes. “Mhm, please.” You begged, your voice a breathless whisper as you heard him pop the cap of the lube off before hastily rubbing himself with it and slowly pushing into you.
Holy. Fucking. Shit. The feeling of being stretched out by both of their cocks at the same time was so intoxicating, it left you breathless and made your heart race. It was simply indescribable how good it really felt. The sensation caused you to instinctively arch your back as you clutched the sheets tightly, consumed by sheer pleasure, every nerve ending in your body tingling with electric intensity. Mattheo was now fully inside you as well and patiently waited for you to adjust to the intense feeling.
Theo then firmly gripped your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze as you stared up at him through barely open eyes and furrowed brows. “Does that feel good, hm? Having two dicks inside of you?” you nodded with your lips slightly parted in ecstasy, unable to form any coherent sentences.
“C’mon bella, use your words.”
“Feels— feels so fucking good, fuck!”
“Hm, that’s more like it. Open up baby, ‘cause we aren’t done yet.”
You obediently parted your lips wider to let Theo enter your mouth, his hand pressing against the back of your head guiding you deeper as he let out an almost primal groan, throwing his head back at the sensation of your warm mouth. At the same time, both Lorenzo and Mattheo began to move at a slow, deliberate pace, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the heavenly feeling of them stretching you out completely from both holes.
Strings of muffled curse words slipped from your lips as Theo mercilessly fucked your face, his piercing eyes staring down at you as he bit his lip, a low growl of pleasure escaping him. The other two boys quickly began to increase their pace, causing you to see stars as they could feel each other move against one another through the thin flesh that separated them, only intensifying the immense pleasure they were already feeling.
“Look at her— she can barely handle it, having three dicks inside of her.” Mattheo taunted, his hands tightly gripping the soft flesh of your ass as he relentlessly slammed into your tight hole at a brutal pace, causing you to moan loudly around Theo's throbbing erection. Your vision blurred as Lorenzo's hand moved to your throat, wrapping his fingers around it possessively, choking you just enough to make you feel lightheaded.
“You’re taking us so well, pretty girl. Doing so good for us.” Lorenzo growled as he gazed deep into your hazy eyes. Your head felt like it was spinning from the intense sensation, both of them pounding into you at a merciless pace, filling both your holes so deliciously while theo thrust into your mouth, making you gag on his thick cock.
The pornographic sounds of heavy breathing, lewd moans, and loud skin smacking completely filled the room, and you were certain you’d hear complaints from your nagging neighbours the next day, but right now, your mind was too clouded by the pleasure to even care. The feeling was beyond words and you couldn’t get enough.
“Such a dirty fuckin’ slut. One dick just wasn’t enough for you, huh? Sei tutta nostra.” Theo taunted as he slid his hand beneath you to your core, rubbing fast circles on your swollen clit while maintaining his brutal pace.
It was becoming too much as both Lorenzo and Mattheo continuously hit your most sensitive spots, quickly sending you spiralling over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave. You moaned loudly, your eyes squeezing shut in ecstasy while your nails dug deep into Lorenzo’s chest. You nearly collapsed on top of him, but theo quickly caught you, holding you up by your jaw with a gentle yet firm grip.
Not much later, Theo and Lorenzo reached their orgasms as well, both emptying themselves deep inside your cunt and mouth while Mattheo pulled out and came on your ass, feeling his warm sperm on your skin in thick spurts, painting you white.
The four of you froze for a moment, trying to catch your breath, chests heaving up and down as if the room was spinning around you from both the aftermath of the orgasm combined with the intoxicated state you were all still very much in. Theo gently wiped the excess sperm from the corner of your mouth with his thumb, hazily smiling down at you.
Lorenzo was the first to break the silence, much to your annoyance, a lazy smile stretching across his face as he leaned back against the headboard. “So, uhm… roommates with benefits, huh?”
“NO! Stop trying to make that a thing!”
“Nice way to instantly ruin the mood, mate.”
“No offense but I’d rather cut off my own dick than refer to any of you as that.”
reminder: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and keep me motivated. ty! ♡
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special thanks to my love @pizzaapeteer for giving me the motivation again to write a full fic ilysm !!!!!
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#❥ ari’s works#new girl au#theo nott#theodore nott#mattheo riddle#lorenzo berkshire#enzo berkshire#theo nott smut#theodore nott smut#mattheo riddle smut#enzo berkshire smut#lorenzo berkshire smut#theo nott x reader#theodore nott x reader#mattheo riddle x reader#enzo berkshire x reader#lorenzo berkshire x reader#theo nott imagine#slytherin boys smut#slytherin boys#theodore nott imagine#mattheo riddle imagine#lorenzo berkshire imagine#enzo berkshire imagine#theo nott fanfic#theodore nott fanfic#mattheo riddle fanfic#enzo berkshire fanfic#lorenzo berkshire fanfic
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Hey! Your writing is amazing! I’ve been checking daily for new fics lmao
I was wondering if your requests were open would you be able to write some angst with a happy ending w/ Peanut?
Perhaps a Shy!Reader who has flirty banter with Logan. They’re on a mission and Logan has to make a quick decision on who to save — Reader or Jean and he saves Jean without thinking. Reader ends up surviving with a few injuries but her and Logan’s relationship starts to deteriorate. Logan’s not good with verbal apologies so he does acts of service — bringing reader food/drinks etc. reader is stubborn and Logan starts to get frustrated. He eventually proves himself to reader.
I’m sorry if this is confusing!! I’m not creative enough to write it myself and you’re really really skilled. Love your work x
a/n: I read this request and then read them together and my brain imploded because I loved it so much, no smut in this one Summary: Logan saves Jean on a mission and it's the wake-up call you desperately needed to understand that you will never be her. You can't stand to look at him anymore and he doesn't understand why you've stopped talking to him.
“What’re you thinking of doing after this?”
You shrug, leaning back on the uncomfortable bench seats and looking over at Logan. “Not sure, got any plans?”
Logan smirks and you immediately know whatever he’s about to say is going to send you spiraling. “Yeah, whatever you’re doing, sweetheart.”
Oh. My. God!
You know you’ve got it bad when something as simple as that has you swooning. It’s so easy to fall into this routine with him, to pretend you’re more suave than you actually are. Despite your usual tendency to fade into the background, you find it nearly impossible to do with him.
Where someone else might let you stay quiet and go ignored, he seeks you out. He makes you feel seen and heard. Some days you don’t know if you appreciate it or despise it. You laugh a little, trying to hide just how affected by him you are. “Sounds good, Lo.”
He smiles and leans back on the seat, his arm coming around the back to rest lightly over your shoulders. You can tell from the look on Storm’s face that she’s trying not to laugh at you. You can’t blame her, you’re sure your eyes have tripled in size and you look absolutely stunned.
Flirting isn’t out of the usual for you and him. Lately, though, he’s upped the game. Touching you more than usual, spending more one-on-one time together. You can feel it all building up to something. You’re shy, not stupid, you know when a guy’s going to ask you out.
But it feels like he’s dragging it out longer than necessary like he’s enjoying teasing you a little too much. “Alright,” Scott stands up and moves towards the back of the jet. “We’re almost there, get ready.”
You, very reluctantly, pull away from Logan and get to your feet. He walks past you, briefly squeezing your hand before joining Scott by the ramp. You grin, flexing your hand by your side and trying to memorize the feeling.
The ramp lowers to the ground and Scott and Logan lead the way out. You’re expecting this to be simple. Stake out the area, find some information about the people running the warehouse, and figure out what exactly it is that they’ve been doing.
The air is bursting with moisture. It’s suffocating, how humid it is, how it makes the material of your suit cling to your skin. You know the rest of the team can feel it. That it’s irritating them just as much.
None of you want to be out here in the peak of summer, trying to be stealthy in these ridiculous costumes. Your thighs squeak every time they rub together. It’s beyond embarrassing. You know that that’s what has you all distracted.
You’re struggling through ankle-deep mud and sweating buckets. So none of you are paying any particular attention to the area around you. Technically, you shouldn’t have to, you’re still about a mile out from where you need to be.
You duck, hands coming up to cover your ears as Charles’ voice screams through your mind. It’s a trap!
Even with the warning, there’s no time to prepare. The ground around you explodes, grass and dirt flying through the air. Logan grabs your arm, he shoves himself in front of you and takes the brunt of the bullets. Splatters of blood hits your cheeks and he runs you both behind a tree for cover.
The other three have all found their own cover and they’re struggling to figure out where the shots are coming from. You spot something in the underbrush and scream, “Behind you!”
It’s more of a warning to duck than it is to move. You throw your hands up, shoving the man away from them and sending him flying into the trunk of a tree. You swear you can hear the snap of his spine as it hits the bark.
You look to Jean and nod towards the small clearing of trees. “Don’t,” Logan warns. But you’re already slipping out of his grip and solidifying the air in front of you. It provides enough of a cover, absorbing the bullets, and giving you all time to figure out a plan of attack.
Jean moves beside you, eyes narrowing on the perimeter of your cover. “There are too many of them, more than I can count.”
“How did they know we were coming?” Scott snaps, keeping an eye on the area behind you.
Your arms struggle under the weight of your power. The more bullets they shoot into your cover, the harder it is to keep up. You’re forced to absorb their energy, push it out tenfold to try and keep the blockage solidified.
“Guys,” you snap, “we need a plan. I can’t hold it much longer.” You grit your teeth, taking a step forward to try and push against the strain. It does nothing but make your bones ache. Logan shoots you a concerned glance, coming up behind you like he wants to take the weight off your shoulders. But there’s nothing he can do.
There’s movement behind you, a boot snapping a twig in two. You can’t risk looking back but you can hear the worry in Jean’s voice. “Ten of them-”
You can tell by the sounds of their movement that the others don’t give her much of a chance to finish. Ororo, Scott, and Logan all shoot forward to deal with the threat. Ten isn’t much to worry about. But that doesn’t change the fact that the men in front of you haven’t let up and you’re about to weep from the weight of keeping the wall up.
Jean stays beside you, brows furrowed in concern. She places her hand on your shoulder and closes her eyes. A second later you feel something like a cool blanket laid over you. The tension in your arms and core eases just enough for you to stop clenching your jaw so hard. Some of the strain eases away and you know she’s sharing it with you.
But just as quickly as the relief was given, it’s yanked away. Jean jumps back with a gasp, “Flux, we need to move!”
“I can’t,” you shout, fighting to be heard over the sound of bloodshed and gunshots going off in front of and behind you. The others are steadily moving through the people surrounding you, but their numbers are still overwhelming. “It’ll all come crashing down,” you tell her.
She glances towards the bullets, finally spotting the way they’re slowly, but steadily, moving through the thickened air. The second you let go you’ll be riddled with holes. “Shit,” she hisses. “Look, we can’t stay here much longer-”
She’s cut off by a loud bang. You’re so disoriented by the noise your hands drop to your sides. At the same moment, you hear wood splintering and cracking beside you. What has to be the largest tree in the forest creaks before it begins its descent down towards you both.
You don’t what happened, or what they used, but it doesn’t matter. The wall in front of you is fading. You have seconds to get out of the way of the bullets and the tree, you’re not sure either of you is going to make it.
“Jean!” There’s a flash of brown hair and Jean’s being tackled to the ground, safely out of the way of the tree and bullets. You feel something stinging against your shoulder and know the first bullet’s made its way through.
You also see the tree is almost over top of you. You’ve always been a fight response in flight or fight scenarios. But when there’s nothing to fight, when you have nothing to go up against, you freeze. It’s horrible, you know it, but there’s nothing you can do about it.
Even as you’re desperately screaming at yourself to just fucking move, all you can do is watch as the tree topples down on top of you. “Flux, duck!” The words trigger something in your brain just soon enough to drop to the ground.
Scott releases a red beam, blasting through the tree and knocking it off course. You don’t even register the smell of burning flesh as you lay in the mud. Your blood is rushing so fast in your veins, there’s so much adrenaline pumping through you, you can’t focus on anything except the sound of your heartbeat.
You let out a breath of relief, slowly lifting yourself up to your knees. You don’t hear any more fighting and you figure whoever they hadn’t taken down before, the beam took care of the rest.
You look down, checking yourself for any bullet holes or serious damage but you can’t find anything. Something warm trickles down your shoulder, it drips across your arm and down your hand.
You look at the blood curiously, it seems to steady a flow from the simple bullet graze you’d had earlier. “Oh my god,” Jean whispers your name and you turn around with a concerned look.
You want to ask her what’s wrong but your eyes are trained on the way Logan’s arms are bracketing her. He’s practically on top of her, only now getting up to check on you. You get it, it was a stressful situation, he acted fast.
But that doesn’t make it any easier to swallow the lump in your throat. It doesn’t ease the burn of betrayal. He saved her, not you. He chose her even though she doesn’t want him. The anger you’re feeling only makes it harder to be aware of your surroundings.
It’s not until Scott kneels behind you a presses a gentle hand against your back that you lurch forward with a loud cry. The pain slams down on you all at once. The wind blowing gently against your back feels like someone’s dug razor blades in your skin and ripped.
Feet rush towards you, someone kneeling beside you and grabbing your shoulders. Logan forces you up and makes you look at him before his gaze turns to your back. “What the fuck did you do?” He practically growls, lunging towards Scott.
He grabs him by the collar and shoves him into the dirt. Ororo and Jean leap forward, trying unsuccessfully to rip him off. You try and keep your eyes open, try and stay focused. The pain is too much, you don’t want to be awake for this anymore. Every nerve on your back feels like it’s being forcefully exposed and plucked at.
Your brain forces a shutdown and you slump into the mud, the world going black.
When you wake up, you’re on your stomach. You’re a little dazed, not fully remembering how you got here. You try and sit up but there’s a steady grip around your wrists stopping you. “Don’t move,” Jean warns from somewhere behind you.
You try and look for her but you can’t move much. Your head feels like it weighs a hundred pounds, stuck to the pillow beneath you. “What happened? Why can’t I move?”
Her shoes appear in front of you and then she’s kneeling down, a slightly worried look on her face. “We needed to make sure you didn’t roll over in your sleep.” Her brows crinkle and she frowns, “You don’t remember?” You shake your head minutely. She sighs, lifting her hand to your face and pressing her chilled fingers to your temple.
The images rush towards you. You see it all from her eyes. The way Logan had grabbed her and thrown her to the ground, checking over her and not once looking at you. How Scott had tried to stop the tree from breaking your spine. His beam had just barely grazed your back as you had ducked. But it was enough for there to be serious damage.
Through her view, you can see the way your skin had bubbled up and blistered. How horribly damaged it was. You have limited healing abilities, but it was enough to stop the nerves from being permanently damaged.
She lets you go and you groan, the pain slowly registering in your brain. It’s dulled and you don’t know if they’ve given you drugs or if your abilities are still working to help you. “How’s Scott?”
She chuckles and shakes her head while she undoes the restraints around your wrist. “He feels awful. He keeps coming by to check on you.”
The thought of him sitting beside you while you were strapped down to the bed makes you feel a little bad. It wasn’t his fault, he’d helped you. It was more than Logan had done for you.
You frown, hating yourself for being bitter. If he hadn’t helped, Jean might not be here next to you. He had saved your friend. The thought didn’t bring much comfort, though. “I’m not mad at him.”
Jean eases you onto your knees and slowly helps you sit up. It causes minimal pain, but it’s still uncomfortable enough to grit your teeth and dig your nails into your palms. “I know, but he’ll probably be coming down here a lot to check on you.”
You almost ask her if anyone else has visited. If Logan had, but you don’t think her answer would make you feel any better. “He did,” she tells you and you click your tongue in irritation.
“Out of my head,” you warn. She releases you with a small grin. “I don’t care,” you tell her, trying to appear nonchalant.
She tilts her head, eyes narrowing on you. “Yes, you do. And I don’t need telepathy to know.” She walks towards your IV bag, fiddling around with something on the line. “He was here whenever he could be, practically lived beside you.”
“Don’t care,” you tell her again, but there’s less conviction this time.
Jean frowns and you hate how guilty she looks. It’s not her fault he’s desperately in love with her and not you. You can’t force someone to love you or choose you. And you don’t want to. You want someone to love you for who you are, not because they couldn’t have their first choice.
“Don’t,” you say lowly. “Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault.”
She doesn’t get a chance to say anything before the door bursts open, both Logan and Scott sliding into your room. Scott lets out a relieved breath when he sees you. He breathes out your name and approaches with a guilty smile, “You’re awake.”
“Charles told us,” Logan informs. You offer him a brief glance before diverting your attention to Scott.
Petty, you’re aware. But you don’t want to see Logan right now. You’d put so much effort and time into your friendship with him. It doesn’t even matter if he doesn’t feel the same way about you. You two are best friends, and he didn’t even try to help you when you needed him the most.
So, you smile at Scott. You forgive him and you tell him you're fine. You chat with him and Jean while Logan just stares at you from the other side of your bed. You can’t make yourself face him. You don’t want to look at him, it makes you sick to your stomach.
Eventually, Scott’s guilt is slightly assuaged and he and Jean leave for the night. Logan is a heavy presence beside you, one you no longer can ignore. You shift around, pretending to fluff your pillows until he grabs your hand.
“What’re you doing?”
You look at his hand and then at him. Whatever look is on your face is enough for him to release you and back off. “Getting comfortable,” you spit out, more venom in your voice than necessary. Something clicks for him, you can see it as it happens.
He backs up and narrows his eyes down at you. “Right.” He frowns and sucks on his teeth, nodding his head silently. “I’ll come back when you’re feeling a little better.” You don’t miss the hidden dig underneath it all, the way he’s calling out you’re unusual behavior.
“I think that’d be best.”
He scoffs and shakes his head, slamming the door behind him as he leaves. You jump at the noise and it makes you hiss as a twinge of pain shoots down your spine. You feel slightly guilty about the whole interaction. Then, you remember the way he’d been cradling Jean and you feel slightly vindicated.
You’re sure he doesn’t even give a shit. He’s probably pouting in his room, wishing Jean was in bed beside him.
What the fuck?
It’s all that’s been playing through Logan’s head since he returned from your room in the medbay. He’s waited days for you to wake up, so he can finally take a breath and let go of the anxiety that’s been plaguing him.
He’d thought that he’d lost you in that forest. When he’d gone for Jean, he’d assumed you’d just be able to use your powers to knock the tree out of your path. Or make it melt around you.
Honestly, he can’t put a finger on what exactly he was thinking. But he knew that you could protect yourself and that would be your priority. So he’d moved without really thinking and grabbed the person who would be collateral damage if your powers went haywire.
And then you hadn’t saved yourself and all he could smell was your burning flesh. The smell has been stuck in his nose since you were brought back to the mansion. He can’t escape it. Everywhere he goes, he sees you burning and hears your screams.
He’d thought that you were dead and there was a moment where he genuinely was so lost he could do nothing but watch as the others swarmed you. He couldn’t move, couldn’t help you. He could only stare at your still body and pray to anybody who could hear him that you weren’t dead.
He didn’t know what he would do if he lost you before he ever got a chance to love you.
He’d, irritatingly, imagined all the different ways he would finally tell you how he felt when you woke up. He’d prepared himself for every possible reaction, except this one. He hadn’t expected you to reject him before he ever got the chance to confess.
Anger stews within him as he paces through his room. He knows that it’s unfair to be upset with you. You’d gone through something horrific and there had been doubts about your recovery. Of course, you’d act off.
Except, you only seemed to be directing that at him. Had you been just as dismissive to Scott, the person who actually hurt you, he would have looked past it. He’s tempted to go back down and see you again, maybe try and make you see some sense.
Instead, he decides to give you both some time to calm down. He doesn’t want to do anything he might regret while he’s pissed off. He’ll see you tomorrow and, hopefully, you’ll be back to normal.
You’d thought Logan might have gotten the hint with how you behaved earlier. That was not the case. He’s back today and you can smell the breakfast food he’s brought you. The smell is wafting deliciously from an inconspicuous brown bag.
But you know it’s from the restaurant that’s twenty minutes out of his way. You’re not petty enough that you can’t appreciate the forty-minute round trip he’d taken for you, but you still aren’t excited to see him.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he smiles at you despite your clearly hostile energy. He tugs the chair towards your bed, ripping open the bag and pulling out enough food for the both of you.
You think it should be considered a form of manipulation to call you that while you’re pissed at him. He has such a clear effect on you. You know he’s aware of it. He knows that when he calls you something sweet like that it makes your heart race and stomach flip.
You turn your gaze towards your blanket. You pretend the thread pattern is the most interesting thing in the world so you don’t have to look at him. You’re sick of giving your all to men who couldn’t care less about you.
You’re tired of being the second, third, fourth choice. You want someone to choose you first for once. And you genuinely thought Logan would be the man to do that. But he’d chosen Jean. You should have known.
“Alright,” he huffs, crossing his arms and glaring at you. You’re pissed off that he’s acting like he’s the one who was hurt. “What the hell is your problem? You’ve never been this mad at me before.”
It’s his tone of voice that really grates on you. He genuinely does not understand what he’s done wrong. He doesn’t even comprehend the possibility that you might be mad he left you to die. Have you really become such a doormat?
Yes, you’re shy and generally reserved with the people you meet. But he is so different. You two met and it was an instant connection that you thought was reciprocated. You hadn't realized that you'd become so complacent in the relationship he thought he could get away with something like this with no repercussions.
“You left me to die,” you snap at him, voice taking a pitch it never has before. You’ve never truly gotten angry at him. Pissed off sometimes when he teased you a little too much. But you’d never plainly shown anger at him. “You fucking left me behind and expect me to, what,” you scoff and shove the food back towards him.
“You think some shitty breakfast is going to fix this?” His face contorts. It screws up into something like hurt and you worry you might have been too harsh. He doesn’t know how you feel about him. He doesn’t know that this would hurt you so bad.
But, it doesn’t matter. You’re still his friend. You should have at least warranted a little concern.
Just as quickly as it appeared, the hurt is washed away by his own anger. “I thought you could take care of yourself. Isn’t that what you’re always bitching at us about?”
If you weren’t so upset you might find it funny how quickly the two of you turned on each other. Clearly, there was something repressed between the two of you. Some brewing resentment that neither of you had ever acknowledged. The words are coming quickly now, without thought.
“Fuck you, Logan,” you snap back at him. “You didn’t give a shit whether I lived or died. You only cared about your precious Jean.” You spit out her name with so much venom it stings as it leaves your tongue.
He laughs, getting out of his chair. He shakes his head and glares at you. His anger is always a physical thing. You know he’s pacing so he doesn’t do something worse, like destroy the entirety of the room.
“That’s what this is, you’re jealous? Don’t blame your fucking incompetence on me.” You hate the way he’s speaking to you. Like you’re a little girl who's incapable of understanding even the most basic of concepts. He has such a patronizing look on his face, you want nothing more than to wipe it off.
The tables beside you tremble, the vases of flowers rattling against the wood. “I’m your friend, Logan. You could at least pretend like you cared about me.”
He leans against the end of the bed, tilting himself forward until he’s aggressively imposing your space. You shrink back against the pillows, narrowing your eyes in disdain. “Don’t fucking pull that shit with me. I knew that your priority would be to save yourself and I acted accordingly. This wasn’t some goddamn ploy to get into Jean’s pants. Grow the fuck up, Flux!”
You flinch back at the volume of his voice. Unwillingly, tears pool in the corners of your eyes. It’s an involuntary response. Sometimes you just get so enraged that you have no other way to get rid of it than to cry. It’s infuriating to see the moment someone stops taking you seriously and starts to think you’re nothing more than a crybaby.
Logan’s face pales and he winces, backing away from you. “I didn’t-”
“Enough,” you stop him, voice thick with unshed tears. He never calls you by your X-men name, it’s an unspoken agreement between the two of you. That’s a formality reserved for the other members. To each other, you’re nothing more than two people who care deeply for one another.
Or, you had been. Before this one moment had blown your life and your back up.
“I appreciate how much faith you have in my abilities, but the fact that your first instinct wasn’t even to protect me says a lot.” You take in a deep breath and shake your head. “Thanks for the breakfast, but can you please just leave?”
He looks like he doesn’t want to. You know he doesn’t want to leave. You two never fight like this. Even if there wasn’t a lot said, it’s still not normal for you. Maybe that should have been your first hint that things weren’t what you thought.
It’s healthy to fight, to a certain extent. Sometimes it's needed. You two never have before and you know it’s just been brewing for a while, waiting to blow up. “I-”
“Get out,” you shout, and the tables beside you finally crumble under the weight of your emotions. They drip to the ground in an inorganic form of liquid wood. “Shit,” you hiss, glancing over at them. You wave your hand and they return to their normal state, but it doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t have lost control at all.
The door slams and you look up to find the room empty. You sink back against your bed and run your hands over your face. You ignore the way the skin of your back screams in protest.
You embrace the pain, the fiery shocks running up your nerves as the bandages chafe against the wounds. You focus on that instead of how things have ended with Logan. You always had such high hopes that he might be the one you finally man up and confess to.
You should have known you were wrong. You should have known that it would never have ended with him picking you over her.
You’re permitted to leave the medbay the next day. You don’t see or hear from Logan for the following week. You can’t confirm if he’s purposefully avoiding you or not but you have to believe he is. You both live in the same hall. You don’t know how it’s possible to have gone this long without even catching a slight glimpse of him.
You force yourself to suffocate the part of you that misses him. You picture the side of yourself that longs for his presence and imagine shoving a pillow over her face. You don’t want to ache and cry over someone who doesn’t give two shits about you.
You keep reminding yourself over and over again that when things got rough he showed you his true colors. But it’s more difficult than you imagined to just completely disregard so much history with him.
Besides, you hadn’t realized just how little you interacted with the others until Logan was out of your daily life. It’s so difficult for you to bond with people that when you’d connected with Logan you’d latched onto him.
It’s a little pathetic, honestly. Being grown and eating lunch alone because you only had one friend. You wonder if your feelings for him were genuine or born from a desperation not to be alone. You don’t let yourself linger on the question for long.
It’s as your training with the students that you finally see him again.
“Has he made much progress yet?”
Jean shakes her head and purses her lips. She watches as Billy, one of the newer students, struggles with the logs in front of him. He was a firestarter, a very inexperienced one who had only ever set his curtains on fire.
His powers were more focused on the mental aspect of things rather than the physical. Which is why you and Jean were in charge of helping him. He couldn’t start anything on his own, he only really seemed to be able to activate the ability when he was emotionally stimulated.
That meant whenever he was mad or sad, or anything in between, everyone in a fifty-foot radius was in danger. He was a risk to the other students and you were both trying to be gentle with him. But you’d been working with him for so long and there was so little progress. It felt like he wasn’t trying sometimes.
He’d asked Rogue out a week ago and when she’d said no, her hair had caught on fire. You know he could have been hurt and lashed out without thought or malice behind it. But you’d seen the look in his eye.
You’re fifty percent sure he knows exactly what he’s doing. This little act he puts on is just to get himself out of trouble. You hadn’t brought the issue to Charles yet because you’re trying to give him the benefit of the doubt.
“Billy,” you call out. His head whips up and he sends you a vicious glare. You can’t help the sneer on your lips. “Just take a deep breath and try again. There’s nothing wrong with struggling, we all did.”
You put on your normal teacher voice, calm and collected. Assuring. But the little shit in front of you isn’t buying it for a second. He gives you a sarcastic little grin, “Right. Sorry, I forgot you’re a fuck-up just like me.”
“Billy!” Jean snaps, taking a step forward to reprimand him. She doesn’t get far before there’s a fireball shooting out of his palms and hurtling towards the both of you.
There’s no chance to react before something slams into your side and is tossing you to the ground. Your head nearly snaps against the grass but there’s a hand underneath your skull softening the blow.
You smell something smoking and look up to see a large scorch mark right where you’d just been. Jean’s standing over it, palm outstretched as she keeps the fire subdued. She gives you a worried look, “Are you okay?”
Surprisingly, yes. You glance up to see Logan hovering over you. He backs off when he notices you’re okay, getting to his knees and offering you a hand. Wordlessly, you slip your palm into his and let him help you into a sitting position.
“You alright,” his hand hovers over your shoulder like he wants to pull you closer. But he resists, backing off and waiting for your answer. You nod your head, still a little dazed from the failed assassination attempt.
He narrows his eyes, searching your face for any sign of head trauma. When he’s properly assured you’re okay he jumps to his feet. “Billy!” His voice booms across the courtyard and it’s the first time you’ve ever seen that little asshole scared.
He’s barely on his feet before Logan is stalking towards him, jerking him forward by the scruff of his neck and dragging him towards the mansion. “We need to have a little talk,” the tone of his voice has you a little scared and you’re not even the one he’s mad at.
Jean walks towards you and helps you to your feet. “Is your back okay?”
“Yeah,” you nod and brush your clothes off. You have to physically shake the shock of what happened off. “Yeah, I’m fine. I can’t believe he did that.”
Jean scoffs and glares towards Billy’s back. Your eyes widen in shock when you see the large scorch mark across his arm. “Jean! He got you, are you okay?”
She glances down at her shirt and frowns. “Yeah, practically a sunburn.” She gives you a reassuring smile, “I’ll be fine.”
As shitty as this sounds, you’re not concerned for her. You can only focus on the fact that she was in just as much danger as you and Logan had tackled you to the ground. You glance back towards the mansion, more fucking confused than ever.
You’re not sure what compels you to follow Logan, but you’re running after him before Jean can stop you. He’s barely got a minute headstart on you, you’re not sure why you can’t find him. You’d gone through every inch of the first floor.
You don’t know where he would have dragged Billy, but it’s nowhere you can find. After about ten minutes of looking for him, you give up on the hope that you’re ever going to figure out what’s happening inside his brain.
You let out a defeated sigh, running a hand over your face and trying to shake off the funk of the day. You can’t believe that little shit tried to roast you. You’re not comfortable with the fact that he’s just roaming around inside the mansion somewhere.
You turn out of the living room and nearly slam into someone. His hands shoot out, grabbing your shoulders and gently stopping you. “Logan,” you give him a strained smile. “I was looking for you.” You glance over his shoulder and frown. “Where’s Billy?”
Logan sighs, his hands linger on your arms for a moment before he takes a step back. “Wheels got to him before I could do anything.”
You laugh a little, the noise involuntary. “What were you planning on doing with the sixteen-year-old?”
He doesn’t find the question amusing if his expression is anything to go by. “He was really trying to hurt you.”
His words sober you up slightly and you drop the flippant attitude. “Yeah, I wanted to,” god, it feels like you could choke on the words. Just last week you were screaming at him for not helping you. Now, you could barely thank him because he had.
“You’re always my priority.” He tells you before you can struggle any longer. Your head shoots up and you stare at him with confusion. He groans, the noise tired and resigned. “Saving Jean was a mistake. I mean it, kid, I just thought you could handle yourself.”
You open your mouth but he stops you before you can argue. “I know, that’s not the point. I should have saved you, no matter what I thought you could or couldn't handle.”
“No,” you stop him and shake your head. “No, Logan, I shouldn’t. I,” your mouth opens and he stares at you expectantly. What you were going to say gets stuck in your throat. This is a horrible idea.
“I liked you in a way you didn’t like me and it was unfair of me to push my expectations onto you.” You wanted it to sound better, and more intelligent. Instead, it came out in one rushed breath and you’re not sure he even understood half of what you said.
His brows furrow in confusion for a moment before a smile breaks out on his face. You’re not sure if it’s a good or bad thing that he’s smiling. You can’t tell if he’s mocking you or about to profess his undying love.
You don’t have to wonder for long. He moves closer towards you, leaning forward until you’re practically sharing the same breaths. Unconsciously, you’re drawn into him, hands braced gently on his chest as you chase after him.
“What are you doing?” Your whispered words brush against his lips and he gives you a small smile. His hands travel up your waist. He tugs you closer, his other hand looping around your neck and craning you up.
“I’m gonna choose you every fucking time, kid.” His lips brush across your own and it’s like a switch is flipped in you both. Your arms twine around his neck, pulling him down until you’re practically melting into him.
It’s everything you’ve ever wanted and so different at the same time. You always thought your first kiss would be after some cheesy first date. He would have taken you out to dinner. Something would have inevitably gone wrong, you spilled something on your dress or the waiter brought the wrong order.
You would both worry that it was a sign that nothing would work out between you. And then, at the end of the night, he’d tug you into his arms and kiss you like you were the most precious thing he’d ever held.
That would be nice, but this is better. He’s not holding you like you’re something fragile or something too precious for this world. He’s kissing you like you’re the very air he needs to survive. He’s greedy with his affections and demanding with his wants.
You’re being consumed and devoured. And you never want to stop. This is all you’ve ever wanted with him, from him.
Sadly, you do have to breathe. You’re the one that forces the stop, you’re sure he would have happily suffocated if it meant he could keep touching you like this. You pull back, the air coming in short pants between your parted lips.
You can already feel them swelling, the slight irritation on your cheeks from his stubble. You don’t mind, you quite like the feeling. He speaks before you can, a pleased smile on his face. “Forgive me yet?”
You chuckle, a little impressed by how cheeky he is, still slightly pissed off. “Why don’t you do that again and I’ll think about it?”
He rolls his eyes but you can see the smile fighting against his firm glare. “You’re really gonna make me work for it, huh?”
You smile and nod, leaning into him again. “You’re never gonna hear the end of it,” you whisper before dipping down and kissing him again. You can’t believe you ever doubted just how much he cares for you.
He didn’t choose Jean over you. He’s just a dumbass.
a/n: I had to resist putting in a “pick me, choose me, love me” line in there bc that would have just been too much lol
end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
General Taglist: @evasmlp
Logan Taglist: @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always @corvusmorte
@mrs-ephemeral @wolviesgirl ♡
#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett#logan howlett imagine#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#wolverine imagine#wolverine#x men#x men x reader#hugh jackman#deadpool and wolverine#hugh jackman x reader#anon
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lost & found | jeon jungkook
summary:your college years have never been something you dwelled on for too long. you didn’t want to think of all the chances you lost and that’s why when the guy you had a crush on moves back to town, you try not to let it affect you again. but then he brings up old memories that didn’t go the way you thought they had and you’re thrown for a loop. you’re stuck between finding something new with him and falling back into old habits of never standing up for yourself. it probably doesn’t help that he dated your best friend, where everything seemed to go wrong.
➣ genre/au: jungkook x reader [she/her, female anatomy], mid-20’s friendships. what kind of au is this? smut, plot
➣18.7k words
warnings: heavy plot. smut. a little bit of angst if you squint. tae is oc defender. shy oc. jk is an old college classmate. oc and jk got complicated, misunderstood history :(. oc is kinda insecure? bathroom sex. teasing. foreplay [f and m receiving]. very neeeedddy, long time waited sex.. unprotected. jk fucks oc on the counter, on the door. jk is tatted up but not in his college days. heavy makeout. breast play. fingering. dirty talk. oc goes down on jk as a thx 🤧 jk dated oc’s bestie but there’s HISTORY. oc’s bestie is the real villain im sorry. took advantage of two insecure college kids >:( love lost, love found vibes. just read I swear it’s not that bad 😭 no cheating. FRIEND BREAK UPS. oc gets confident toward the end
song inspo: bff — jesse
As you settle into adulthood, you learn a few things about friendships. There tends to be a slight divide between those you’ve known since you were young and those you’ve collected over the years. Some might value the friendships they’ve held longer more than those that are more recent but for others, what matters is the trust that comes with friendship no matter with whom it might be with. You’re somewhere in between, you think.
You have people like Taehyung who you’ve only recently started to get to know and have had a chance to grow close with. He doesn’t know everything about you yet but he doesn’t need to, he seems to understand enough now to be an important person in your current life. He’s the kind of friend you're thankful you’ve met on some random occasion.
Then you have someone like your best friend, Miyoung. You’re not sure the last time you had ever been truly without her at your side. From your earlier school years to college, to now when you’re both settled into what would essentially be your careers and private lives. She’s… she's special to you in a way that you're not sure you could ever find in someone else—or at least that’s what she says?
There hasn’t been a time where it wasn’t the two of you practically glued together at the hip and you credit her for her outgoing nature that always seemed to balance with your more introverted demeanor. Of course it didn't mean you couldn’t make friends without her [take Taehyung for example] but she’s always seemed to gravitate people toward you with her energy. That’s why you're not at all surprised by tonight’s events and how everyone seemed surprised that you came alone.
”Honestly, I’m happy you made it, it feels like we haven’t seen each other in so long,” Your friend, Hoseok, pointed out as he led you to the private area of the lounge bar where it seemed like a reunion was taking place, “When Miyoung said she wasn’t going to make it, I thought you probably weren’t going to show up and—“
”Is that what you would have preferred?” You asked with a teasing smile as he began to stumble over his words, attempting to backtrack.
“What? Y/n, don’t you know I’ve been desperately enamored by you since your first year? Don’t make such crass comments,” He joked back, helping you out of your coat as you grew closer to the room filled with loud chatter. He led you with hands on your shoulders and said, “And between us, I’m a little happy she didn’t come. I wasn’t really in the mood for this to turn into a Battle of the Exes fighting ground.”
”What do you mean?” You barely had time to ask as you entered the room where an explosion of your name was heard by old college classmates of yours who all seemed on the border of tipsy and in a good mood. You couldn’t help but smile, looking at everyone at once till your eyes fell on the person in question.
He didn’t hesitate to meet your gaze with equal surprise as you sat across from him, just one person down the line. Immediately the people next to you tried sparking a conversation and you used it as a distraction to keep from gawking at him. When Miyoung told you she wouldn’t make it, you debated coming yourself but after some begging from Hoseok you decided to come along. Despite your best friend not joining, you're kind of glad she didn’t. Hoseok is right, it would have been a battlefield and you did not want to be caught in the middle of it.
“Y/n.”
Ignore, maybe? Just ignore and maybe he’ll forget trying to talk to you and your head won't be on the chopping block. You looked down the table at some of the other people you remember from campus activities or long lectures and tried to ignore the growing smile you could see on his face from the corner of your eye.
“Hungry?” The person next to you asked as he made you look his way. There were platters of hand food across the bar table and you happily took whatever Jimin offered. As much as you hated it, you couldn’t help but look across the table to make sure it really was who you thought it was,
Jeon Jungkook.
Better known as your best friend’s ex boyfriend.
Or worse, the first guy you liked when you started University.
”Hi,” he said in a low voice, catching you in the middle of staring at him. In your defense, he seemed so different—more matured if you will. Now he was covered in tattoos and piercings, he lost that sort of boyish charm but clearly gained something else along the way. He was buff and bigger, more intimidating yet alluring? Safe to say he didn’t look like the ‘Boy Next Door’ you had a crush on in your English seminar.
“You’re here,” was all you could think to say back, giving up on your sorry attempt at ignoring him for no real reason other than saving yourself from an awkward encounter.
”So are you,” Jungkook bit into his bottom lip as he looked at you closely. How is it that someone could look so different but the same all at once? In your gaze he could still see that curiosity in everything that he remembered from back then when he would spend lectures wondering what was on your mind. In your appearance, he can see how much you’ve changed physically. They were surely small differences in everyone else’s eyes but he always had a tendency to pay too much attention to you and it would get him in trouble.
You gave him a polite nod in response to his blatant observation that matched yours and attempted to shift your attention elsewhere but he didnt let it get too far. He cleared his throat, “How have you been?”
“Me?” You asked, “Okay, I guess. Busy with work.”
“So I’ve heard, you’re in marketing now, right? What happened to your writing?” Jungkook asked, seeming genuinely curious to know. He didn’t care for the conversations happening around him more than he did hearing your response now that you looked more willing to give him one.
“It wouldn’t have paid the bills—You remember my writing?” You asked, surprise evident in your features that he couldn’t help but smile.
It was hard for him to forget his biggest competition at the time. He let out a small sigh, ready to go on about being unable to forget a certain piece you wrote when a firm hand was placed on his shoulder. Yoongi stood over him, “Smoke break?”
Say no, he thought. Jungkook could easily reject the offer and continue what he was going to say. Without meaning to, he looked back at you, but you had excused yourself from the table in the blink of an eye. Nodding hesitantly, he grabbed his jacket and followed his friend out while he wondered where you went so suddenly.
You were hiding in the washroom when you got the call from Miyoung, like she had a sixth sense telling her to reach out.
“So how is it? Is it as boring as I said it’d be?” Miyoung asked as she waited in line for some nightclub she was going to with some of her various other friends.
“Um, kind of?” You said without much thought—knowing it was what she wanted to hear. In reality, it was fun. You were greeted warmly that it washed away your earlier worries and you’re being taken care of by old friends you didn't get to talk to as much. Not to mention, you’re seeing Jungkook again after a couple years of hearing and thinking of nothing about the guy, so you don’t actually think it's boring.
Miyoung snorted, “Figures, good thing I didn’t go. I could not sit through more than an hour of everyone going on and on about what they’ve been up to. I mean, yeah I miss Hobi and stuff but I could see him whenever, y’know? Who all showed up?”
“I think everyone,” You admitted with a nervous bite of your lip. It was now or never. You tell her that it seems like Jungkook has come to visit or has come back to stay and you’re not sure how she’ll take that. She might even march over here just to tell him how she's felt these last two years and chances are that’ll ruin the easy vibe for everyone else. You leaned against the stall door and talked with her.
“So you’re back,” Yoongi asked with a smirk as he took a drag from his cigarette, “My Golden Boy’s back? Someone pinch me.”
“Funny guy,” Jungkook said sarcastically as he looked out onto the busy street. Yoongi shrugged, turning toward the bar window looking around to see the group, “Aren’t you happy you came?”
“Yeah, it’s great seeing everyone again,” Jungkook told him casually, flicking the end of his cigarette and watching the ash fall to the cold cement of the street.
“Want to know who surprised me tonight?” Yoongi asked, looking over at him to see if his expression would change at all, “Y/n.”
Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly, “What do you mean?”
He shrugged, dropping ash to the ground, “Y/n never comes out to these sorts of things, and if she does come it’s usually with Miyoung but she came by herself tonight.
“Yeah…” Jungkook zoned out a bit as he thought about it more, “Why doesn’t she meet up with you guys often?”
“You know Y/n doesn't really go out,” Yoongi said, “And she’s busy with work, at least that’s what Hobi says. I don’t know, when Hobi said Miyoung wasn’t coming tonight we both expected Y/n to not show too but… hey, aren’t you happy she isn’t here?”
“I don’t really care either way,” Jungkook confessed truthfully, “But do you know if… y’know, you might have heard something about Y/n and if she’s still seeing someone or—“
“Oh God,” Yoongi couldn’t help but laugh as he put his cigarette out, Jungkook doing the same, “It’s been like three years, man.”
Jungkook watched him laugh as he walked off leaving him to follow, “What?”
Yoongi held the door open for him, “You know what, but I’ll answer your question, anyway. Last I heard Y/n is single, so what now?”
He waited for Jungkook to respond but he wasn’t listening anymore. There were too many things on his mind that he needed to work out before you came back to the table.
“What do you mean you’re leaving? You just got here,” Jimin said to you as he held your hand in his to stop you from leaving, “One more drink.”
“It’s late,” You tried to say, “I’ve got to be up early.”
“Liar, it’s a Saturday night, Y/n. Sit your ass back down,” Hobi said with a firm voice making you sit down immediately. He flashed you a cute smile before asking everyone if they wanted another round of drinks.
“So, what were we talking about earlier?” Jungkook asked, trying to get you to talk to him again, “Your writing? Yeah, how can I forget it? Remember we used to read each other’s essays all the time before… well.”
Before he broke up with your best friend.
“Yeah, I remember,” You admitted, trying to find something to say. What kind of questions would Miyoung want to know? What do you want to know? What should you prepare your friend to know? “How long are you visiting?”
“Actually, I just moved back, I got a job doing graphic design for a local company,” Jungkook told you with the hint of a smile, “It’s my first time meeting up with everyone again.”
You let yourself indulge in small talk with him here and there but usually when he started it. The night had been fine, you enjoyed your time but after a while all you wanted to do was go home and Hoseok couldn’t make you stay any longer. You ended your night wondering if you should go out more.
Everything has a backstory, right? How it all started and yours seems pretty tacky. You spent the first couple years of University doing what you had to do in school and letting Miyoung drag you to whatever outing she had on the weekends. Some time in your third year, you joined this English class with the most boring, monotonous professor ever and that’s where you met Jungkook.
In all honesty, you thought he was cute from the get go. Sitting through three hours of a boring lecture led people to do odd things and one of those for you was staring at the cute guy who sat down a couple rows from you. It was just a little thing you did to pass time so you never expected anything to actually happen from it.
Then one day most of the seats were taken [naturally, it was a large class] and he seemed to have been running late because his usual cycle of seats were all taken except the one next to yours. Despite all those times you would find yourself ogling the stranger, when he was right next to you, you didn’t say a single word.
It was Jungkook who spoke first and it was just to ask if you could help him catch up. That day you were supposed to read someone else’s prompt and revise it and you chose each other which then trickled down to a routine of it. Without speaking much, he would sit next to you or silently save you a seat whenever you were running late and the one time you decided to switch it up and sit elsewhere…
Well, he was practically pouting the whole day.
It had been a nearly perfect set up to what could have been if you just allowed yourself to go for things but it didn’t happen that way.
One random Tuesday night, Miyoung wanted to go out for some cheap drinks and you found yourselves at a bar not too far from campus where you ran into a senior in one of your classes. Yoongi had come up to you first, just greeting you and making small talk when Jungkook who apparently had come with him, recognized you too.
They drank with you and Miyoung for a bit and you honestly thought it had been fun. You had never had real conversations with him outside of school work and it was nice to have more people to hang with that it just felt natural. Though at some point through the night Miyoung had gotten kind of flirty. She claims she assumed you had wanted Yoongi and not Jungkook and practically called dibs on him despite meeting him for the first time that night.
When she made her intents obvious, you couldn’t help but backtrack.
You always considered yourself pretty self aware about yourself. There was nothing special really and when you compare yourself to Miyoung there just isn’t much competition.
She was the perfect Prom Queen type who always had the nicest clothes or the cutest boyfriends, the best awards and most interesting stories. The amount of guys she would pull who you didn’t even have a chance with was insane. And though you might sound bitter, you’re not. You’ve never been the type to want the spotlight or attention and being best friends with someone so damn perfect was that you could always stay in the shadows.
So when she started flirting with Jungkook, you didn’t really notice his awkward glances or how he shied away from her proximity. You only saw how he smiled politely and listened to her go on and on about how great she is and assumed he was into her like all the others had been.
You tried to act normal after that, you would talk to him every now and then and never questioned why he stopped talking to you as much until he started dating Miyoung but you weren’t bitter. You were understanding.
It made sense he would date her. She was beautiful and smart and someone people pine for. It was a given that that would happen so once again, you didn’t take it personal.
They dated for a couple months [nothing serious at all] and then he dumped her which resulted in Miyoung practically forbidding you from even looking his way at all. You completed your last year without thinking about him despite the various mutual friends you shared and went on with your life when he moved.
That was the backstory and why you felt so awkward seeing him the other night.
You haven’t told Miyoung yet because there’s a high chance she won’t care at all and would get annoyed that you even thought to bring it up. Your friend is very pretty and she likes being in relationships so she’s been in quite a few since they dated and probably doesn’t care to be reminded at all.
The only person you’ve told is Taehyung.
“But did you at least have fun?” He asked as the two of you sat at a small restaurant for lunch. You nodded your head, “Yeah, it was alright. It was just weird, for me at least.”
“Why?” Taehyung asked as he dug into his meal, stuffing his mouth with no care in the world, “I mean it’s obvious everyone was happy to see you and didn’t want you to leave. Who cares if Miyoung didn’t go, clearly it didn’t matter to anyone else.”
You didn’t say anything, taking your time to enjoy your meal as you drifted off in thought. He is right, you know that sometimes it’s just in your head and you overthink things. You always feel like you’re boring to others so it’s natural for you to assume no one would be happy to see just you and not your bubble of joy best friend. There has to be a certain level of comfort between you and another person to show personality and it’s rare people get to see it.
“But how’d it go with that guy? Did he ask you about her?” Taehyung asked with a hint of curiosity.
“Not that I can remember. I don’t know, it was kind of awkward but we talked a bit,” You told him honestly, “He just moved back down so that’s cool I guess.”
Taehyung looked at you skeptically but you avoided his gaze, trying to distract yourself with your phone.
yoongi: throwing a welcome back party for jk this weekend, u coming?
you: idk, if I’m free
yoongi: … ur always free🤒
yoongi: just say yes, bring whoever u want
you: but is he ok with me going
yoongi: y wouldn’t he be
yoongi: he’s the one who asked me to make sure u come
you: okkkkkk 🥹
“Tae, can you come with me to this party please?” You asked, immediately showing your friend your text messages leaning across the table for him to see them clearly.
Taehyung’s brows furrowed as he read through the texts carefully, “Jungkook is the ex boyfriend, right? Why’s he so interested in you going?”
“He’s not,” you said, “He’s probably just doing it to be nice, since everyone I know will be there.”
“What if he’s… y’know, interested?” Taehyung asked curiously and you nearly choked on your drink.
“No, oh my god,” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “We were just classmates and we stopped talking after he dumped Miyoung so—“
“Yeah but did you ever stop to think ‘hm, I’m the one who knew this guy first and then Miyoung went and snatched him from me before I even got a chance to explore’,” Taehyung said in a high pitched voice, presumably mocking yours. You reached over to playfully shove his shoulder making him grin mischievously.
“What? No, it wasn’t like that at all,” You tried to say, “Him and I didn’t even really talk until the night he met her at the bar and… no, that’s crazy. He liked Miyoung right away.”
Taehyung just sighed, giving up on trying to get through to you, “If you say so, but who’s the one he approached first? Because I can tell you right now it wasn’t her.”
Despite how he expresses himself when he talks about your best friend, he doesn’t dislike her. He thinks Miyoung is alright, maybe a little too much for his tastes but that doesn’t mean anything. He understands the two of you are really close and although he has had many chances to befriend her too, he just hasn’t.
He’ll talk to her if you force them to hang out together but he would never go out of his way to be her friend. It might sound bad but Taehyung is pretty protective over you and rightfully so, he feels.
He doesn’t want to badmouth one of his closest friends but you have a tendency to overthink things. You don’t realize how great you are and make yourself seem smaller and he thinks Miyoung and other people like her in your life are at fault. He’s heard some of the things she says to you and it’s like you hold her up so highly there’s no room for you to see how pretty, smart, and talented you are. And before anyone gets the wrong idea, he’s not in love with you or anything.
You’re too good for him so he gave up on that idea long ago.
Plus, now that he’s able to connect some of those pieces from when you were in Uni, some things are clicking into place for him. Miyoung tends to dim your light a bit, or copy something you do and claim it as her own and when he hears this little backstory between all of your old college friends… he just can’t help but wonder if Jungkook was one of those things she claimed for herself.
With that thought in mind, he agreed to go with you to this party and see for himself what is there and what could be. He just wants what’s best for you and for you to be able to go and get it without worrying you’re not good enough or stepping on anyone’s toes.
When Friday night came, your apartment was filled with loud music and even louder complaints coming from one person in particular. Taehyung was just listening to you and Miyoung go back and forth about tonight’s plans and it got to the point where you couldn’t say anything but the truth about what you would be doing tonight.
“It’s a welcome back party for Jungkook,” You said, trying your hardest not to let your voice sound strained.
“What? When did he get back?” Miyoung asked, sitting up from your bed and tossing your pillow off her lap, “Like he moved back?”
“Yeah, I guess not too long ago,” You said with a shrug, looking in your mirror to see if you liked the way you looked or not, “I don’t know, Yoongi is the one who invited me.”
“Why didn’t I know? Why wasn’t I invited?” Miyoung asked, turning to Taehyung like he would have the answers.
“Probably because you’re his ex girlfriend and you ditched out on their little reunion so you could party,” Taehyung said, not bothering to look up from his phone.
“Yeah but, why’d they ask Y/n? She’s not even friends with him,” Miyoung said with a slight scoff, “You’re not actually going right? We could go out, just the three of us. You already hung out with them, you and I haven’t gone out in weeks, let’s just do our own thing. Unless you’re trading me in for all of them.”
You looked at her with apologetic eyes. You’ve been busy with work recently and she is right. The last people you hung out with aside from Taehyung were all of them two weekends ago so it would only be fair to hang out with her this time. It shouldn’t mean anything that you were invited and that Jungkook wanted to make sure you were going. Miyoung was supposed to be your best friend so how could you go to a party she wasn’t invited to?
Just as you were going to give in and shoot Yoongi a text that you weren’t going to make it, Taehyung spoke up for you. “Why don’t you just come with? One of them said Y/n can bring whoever she wants and I’m already going so it’s not like you have to be by yourself. Plus, aren’t the rest of them supposed to be your friends too? Y/n already agreed.”
“Why didn’t you ask me first?”
“I didn’t realize I needed permission,” You couldn’t help but sigh, sitting on the edge of the bed to comfort her, “We can just stop by, have a drink or two and leave if it’s lame. Come on.”
After much convincing, the three of you arrive at Yoongi’s place which was a small house with good outdoor space and the inside was packed with people already. The amount of party goers made you anxious but at the same time slightly thrilled that surely the attention would never be on you with so many people around.
“Y/n! Miyoung!” Namjoon spotted you two first and he threw his arms around you both with a grin, “Surprised to see you here, Mimi.”
“Yeah, probably because I was the only one not invited,” Miyoung said bitterly, making Namjoon take a drink from his cup and look away nervously.
“Let’s get you guys drinks then,” He said with an awkward clear of his throat looking to Taehyung, “What’s up, I’m Namjoon.”
“Taehyung,” he said, following you to the drinks table. The music played loudly and there were a lot of people having a good time that it was somewhat easy to try and blend in and act normal. Miyoung had a pout on her face, looking around worried but Namjoon brightened her mood and every now and then another friend would stop by to greet her. Taehyung mostly clung to you and only drifted away when a friend would spark conversation with you but you were thankful he was around.
“Y/n,” someone called out to you from across the room. You couldn’t make them out through the crowd of people and it took a while before you spotted Jungkook making his way to your direction.
“Jungkook,” you said with a nervous breath, looking around for Miyoung but she was off with Namjoon talking about god knows what.
“How long have you been here? Why didn’t you say anything?” Jungkook asked, slightly more energetic than usual. His hair was messy, with strands out of place, he wore a basic black tee and baggy jeans so why did he look good? It’s still hard for you to wrap your mind around who this is.
He’s gotten so muscular and just… more intimidating with his tattoo sleeve and piercings and it’s so unexpected but in a good way.
“I, um, you know, I just assumed you were busy,” you lied, looking around for one of your friends. Taehyung was at the table getting a drink and he’ll be back soon to save you before Miyoung looks around.
Jungkook found himself looking around too, as if he could see what you did but he came up short, “Did you come with anyone?”
“Yeah, Miyoung and a friend of mine,” you rushed the words out in hopes of sounding casual but Jungkook didn’t even bat an eye.
“So what are you doing alone?” He asked with a raised brow, taking a step closer to you, “Actually, there’s something that’s been on my mind since last time I saw you and I uh… I haven’t had the chance to say it.”
You blinked nervously, looking up at him and how close he was to you, “What is it?”
He licked his lips, playing with his lip rings shyly, “Well, I was wondering if you would like to get together some time, just you and I. We’ve never had the chance to hang out.”
“We’re hanging out right now, aren’t we?” You asked, feigning naivety that almost seemed teasing. In truth, you could sense what he was possibly asking and you needed him to stop. There was no reason for you two to hang out alone, no matter how much the thought made you giddy.
“I guess,” Jungkook couldn’t help but let his eyebrows knit together in confusion. He took another step closer to you, hand on the wall behind you for support. , “But I was still hoping… I know it’s probably kind of awkward but we’re grown, right? We can get together without worrying about anyone else.”
“Who says it’s because I’m worried?” You asked with a hint of playfulness in an attempt to ease some of the growing tension caused by the way he looked at you, “Where is this coming from all of a sudden?”
That made him crack a smile, “All of a sudden?”
“Yes, all of a sudden,” another voice added in from behind him and you jumped at the sound. Jungkook didn’t bother to turn around, he was more focused on the way you tried to look behind him and meet Miyoung’s glare.
“Where’d you run off to?” You asked, pushing past him making Jungkook slide his hand off the wall and roll his eyes at the disruption.
“Somewhere I felt wanted,” she said bitterly, eyes on Jungkook as she spoke to you, “Let’s go, I’m bored.”
“I thought you were having a good ti—“
“I’m not, Y/n,” Miyoung almost snapped, “You said we could have a drink and go. We’ve been here for like forever and I want to leave. That’s what we agreed on.”
“Okay, jeez, let’s go then,” You said with a sigh, “Let me find Taehyung.”
“Go, then,” Miyoung said, making you take a deep breath, trying to tell yourself she had a right to be upset. She didn’t want you [as her best friend] talking to her ex boyfriend. And you did say you didn’t have to stick around for long…
“What?” Miyoung asked Jungkook with a roll of her eyes as she caught him staring, “Did I interrupt something?”
“You still don’t know how to speak to people like they’re human beings,” Jungkook said simply, “And it’s sad to watch.”
“Screw you,” Miyoung scoffed, “You’re just mad I stopped you from trying to ask my best friend out. My friends are off limits.”
“She was my friend too,” Jungkook said as a reminder, “And I can do whatever I want. You’re just childish.”
She snorted, “Right, says the guy who fumbled me.”
He couldn’t seem to act mature anymore and before he stop himself he said, “Remember, you’re not the one I wanted anyway.”
He walked off without much care for how she felt and found his other friends, wondering who it was you ran off to find.
“Tae, can we go now?” You asked your friend. Taehyung had found himself a group of people to entertain with his stories and had nearly forgotten who he had tagged along with until you pulled him to the side.
“Uh, okay,” Taehyung cleared his throat awkwardly, “What happened? I thought everyone was having a good time.”
“Miyoung wants to leave,” You said with a small sigh, “She saw me talking to Jungkook and I just don’t want it to become this big problem so can we please just go?”
Taehyung placed an arm on your shoulder, leading you to Miyoung who waited at the door, “Yeah, sure let’s go.”
The car had only stayed silent for the first half of the drive to Miyoung’s apartment. Somewhere between the last red light and this short stretch of road, a fire had been lit underneath her which made her start up again.
“So what was that back there?” Miyoung asked from the backseat and you debated just acting asleep or like you were too drunk to listen properly. She leaned forward, looking at you closely.
“What do you mean?” You asked nervously.
“You know exactly what I mean,” Miyoun said with an annoyed tone, “First you get invited to a party for my ex boyfriend and next thing I know the two of you are whispering in the corner looking like you’re about to kiss and like I’m not even in the room.”
Taehyung had to bite his tongue from responding, worried that if he spoke too soon it would only make you seem more weak to her antics. He just tapped his fingers against the window trying to keep silent
“Miyoung,” You started with a sigh, “You’re overreacting. It was nothing, we’re friends—“
“Since when?” Miyoung scoffed, “You’re supposed to be my friend, Y/n.”
“I am,” You said defensively, “And if you want to talk about this tomorrow then that’s fine but right now it’s late and we’ve all been having a decent time so don’t ruin it…”
“Y/n’s right, let’s end the night on a good note,” Taehyung finally said but he seemed to go ignored by you two.
“You’re not though, real friends wouldn’t flirt with their best friend’s ex boyfriend—“
“You two dated for less than five months and it was years ago,” You blurted out, “I knew him before that so don’t act like I’m betraying you.”
“Oh my god, I knew you’d still be bitter I started seeing him,” Miyoung said, suddenly making you hide your face in your hand from exhaustion. “I didn’t know you had a thing for him back then. You should’ve said something instead of holding it against me like you do everything else.”
“What are you talking about?” You couldn’t help but scoff.
Miyoung’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, “You know exactly what I’m talking about and it’s not fair.”
Taehyung took a deep breath, fingers clenched around the steering wheel unable to bite his tongue any longer, “Miyoung I don’t think you’re being fair. You’re clearly drunk and you just want to arg—“
“Shut up, Taehyung,” She snapped, slurring on her words a bit and not even realizing the car came to a stop in front of her building, “I’m not even talking you and you can stop acting like Y/n’s bodyguard because last time I checked she’s a grown adult who could speak for herself. God, I swear everyone is the same. Just because Y/n is boring and insecure, doesn’t mean she doesn’t know how to speak for herself.”
“Get out. We’re at your place so just go,” Taehyung said, annoyed with the harshness she was projecting on you, “Y/n might put up with you but I won’t.”
With an irritated scoff, she swung the back door open, “Fine, screw you guys too.”
The door slammed shut as she stormed up to her apartment and Taehyung waited till she was gone to say, “Fuck, what did that girl drink? Y/n, why do you put up with that? Hey.”
You stayed silent for a moment letting her words sink in. Whatever, she yelled and threw a tantrum, that’s fine, that’s normal. But she seriously thinks you’re just a bore and maybe you’re starting to believe it too. If it weren’t for you always being cautious over how she might feel about you and what you do, you wouldn’t seem so boring.
Or was that just how you were and now you’re trying to say it’s because of Miyoung? Jeez, you just can’t seem to make up your mind about anything but all you know is that… you’re not boring. Well, you don’t have to be. If she wants to think that always backing up whatever she says makes you boring, then maybe it’s time you just do what you want even if she doesn’t like it.
“Tae, can you do me a favor,” You finally said, making him look over at you curiously. The car is still parked in front of Miyoung’s place and he’s been waiting for you to speak anyway, “What?”
“Take me back to the party please.”
Miyoung was wrong, if you were boring it’s because she made you boring. Anytime you did anything on your own, she always had to ruin it and you just let her. You just let Miyoung monopolize your time and make you her right-hand in everything. You’ve never gotten the chance to truly put yourself out there because you firmly believed you didn’t compare.
Maybe you needed to stop overthinking and just do what you want, be confident—or at least act like you are.
“Y/n! You’re back?” Yoongi asked once you made it to the party again, “Let me tell you, I was mad because I thought you left before even talking to me.”
“I’m so very sorry,” You said playfully, “But do you know where Jungkook is?”
He seemed to freeze up, surprise written on his face and he looked down at you questioning. You held his gaze, watching the wheels turn in his head before he was blurting out, “I don’t know. The bathroom?”
You blinked nervously, letting him slip away from you when someone called for him and were left standing there. Your mind was racing with ideas yet you couldn’t think of what to do.
What did you expect coming back?
What does this prove?
You feel anxious and insecure and maybe she was right, you’re boring and you don’t even speak up or do anything exciting.
“Jungkook?” You called out to him as you walked down the hall of doors, knocking or opening whichever door you landed on. You got to the last door with a bated breath, realizing it’s a bedroom and closed yourself in.
Your sense of bravado had been short lived. Whatever burst of confidence you had was completely gone now that you sat alone in the guest room contemplating just going home or not.
In all honesty, this was stupid from the very beginning. You let Miyoung’s words get to you and you acted before you could think. You didn’t need to prove anything. Plus, you don’t want Jungkook. Maybe once before you did… but not… anymore?
God, you felt like an idiot.
“Y/n?”
Your heart dropped with a sense of disbelief as you looked up. The once pitch black room was illuminated by a block of light from the open bathroom door. Jungkook stood at the doorway, brows furrowed as he looked at who sat on the bed.
“Jungkook,” you cleared your throat awkwardly.
“You’re back?” He asked, looking you up and down with a hint of suspicion. You nodded your head silently, making him blink with confusion.
You stood up from the bed suddenly, “Are you done in there?”
“Uh, yeah,” he moved out of your way, watching you closely as you closed the door in his face before he could say anything else.
Maybe this had been a sign that you didn’t want to talk to him but he couldn’t bring himself to leave the privacy in the bedroom to go out where everyone else was. He could hear the faucet running but oblivious to how you wet your face to try and snap yourself out of this strange mood before drying off. When you opened the door, you didn’t expect to see him standing there right in front of you.
“Everything alright?” He asked, halfway in the doorway, walking forward making you step deeper into the bathroom.
“Yeah, everything’s great,” you said with a strained smile, backing away, “Just—what about you? Has it been fun, this is all for you, right?”
“I guess,” Jungkook shrugged, “But it would have been more fun if you stayed.”
“Good thing I came back then,” you couldn’t help but laugh nervously, leaning against the sink counter.
“Good thing,” Jungkook licked his dry lips, “Y/n, about what I was saying earlier… I would honestly like for us together sometime, just the two of us.”
A small, shy smile appeared on your lips as you thought about earlier and repeated yourself playfully, “We’re hanging out right now, aren’t we?”
“I guess,” he blinked in confusion, looking down at you and struggling to keep his composure. Your response was a bit of a let down since he hoped you had come back to see him and he should have known better. You would never take him seriously after his mess with Miyoung and he was always reaching for the stars thinking it could work out.
Plus, you’re too good for him. You always have been.
He can’t explain why, but he’s always felt a sense of ease with you, like everything was perfect. As shameful as it is to admit, Miyoung had reasons to be worried.
When they dated… well, it didn’t stop him from thinking about you from time to time. Miyoung was aware of it too and he looks back on it now and realizes how wrong he was then. It was wrong for him to think about you when he was never able to have you, and he will be much less now.
“Am I wrong? Is it not just the two of us now?” You asked, swallowing the lump in your throat and looking to the bathroom door which was closed some time ago.
“Y/n,” he said it softly but you could sense his warning tone, like you were going to get yourself in trouble. Jungkook wanted to believe you were aware of what this looked like yet he knew there was a chance you weren’t. He couldn’t just go for it.
He could not just go for it.
Not even if you looked up at him with a look in your eyes that said you might want him to…
He could be dreaming it up.
Would you want him to?
No. No way, you would never, that’s how this all started right? You wouldn’t want him the way he wanted you and you’ll go be with someone else while he beats himself up for another failed attempt. He’s not in college anymore, he can’t make the same mistakes.
You do not want him.
“Y/n,” he said with a sigh, “I think we should get out n—“
It was soft but sudden. One second he was giving up on everything he had been hoping for and was ready to go on once again without telling you how he really felt. The next, your lips were on his, barely giving him a chance to feel the tenderness of it before pulling away with a gasp.
“Jungkook,” you covered your mouth with your hand, “Oh my god. I’m s-sorry, I, that was not okay. I shouldn’t have done that.”
You were rambling, apologizing for doing it without asking him first but in all honesty, he couldn’t hear you anymore. There was a strange ringing in his ear that only seemed to stop when he grabbed your face in his hands, and pulled you into a real kiss.
To keep yourself from leaning back too far, you wrapped your arms around his neck and met him the rest of the way. You kissed him back with an equal sense of urgency that had his eyes falling shut and letting himself get lost in the moment. Your lips were soft against his own and his lip rings felt cold on your tongue the first couple times.
At one point you surprised him by nipping at his piercings with a soft tug and it had his hands tightening around your waist, using his strength to pull you onto the counter with ease. It made it easier to kiss you and he let the small sigh you let out guide his tongue between your lips. Your hands were in his dark hair, and you surprised him with the way you took lead of the kiss. It felt like he was melting into you and it was doing things to him.
“Y/n,” he mumbled softly, “I want you so bad.”
You pulled back from him with widened eyes. It was the first time you heard him sound that way and you knew he meant it. He looked at you with an intense gaze and it felt good to be looked at that way by him. You wanted him too, right? That’s why you came back. That's why you were so upset back then. Why can’t you have him now?
What was really stopping you?
Nothing.
The second time he kissed you, you didn’t hesitate from doing more and it had his mouth dropping when he felt your hand trace down his toned chest. He let that feeling motivate his hands to do the same to you and they ran along your sides till he could feel your front. His hands slipped under your top and found your chest, gently reaching to touch you as he kissed you with his tongue.
Your fingers trailed down his navel to the waistband of his jeans, tugging softly and teasingly that you felt the way he sucked in a shaky breath. When he didn’t pull away to tell you to stop, you took it as a sign to go a little farther and undo the button and zipper. Jungkook’s rough fingers caressed your breasts ever so softly but with an added pressure that made you let out a small sigh, especially when he ran his thumb over your nipples.
He released a light groan against your lips when you got more confident in your actions and slipped into the hem of his Calvin Klein’s. You barely touched his growing member but you felt it harden against you, the more attention you gave to it and it was all just exciting to you. His kisses were needy and his rough hands felt so good against your sensitive buds that you couldn’t hold yourself back. You wanted to make him feel good too and you could tell you were.
Jungkook helped you tug his jeans down enough for you to have more reign over him and you touched his bare dick so softly. The first touch was light and teasing, like you were still letting him get lost in the feeling before you actually did anything but it was soft that it made a tingle run down his spine. Goosebumps rose on his skin and blood ran straight to his cock making it easier for you softly palm him to full hardness.
You circled your fingers around his tip, softly running your thumb around the ring feeling him twitch with need and softly sliding down to his base.
His movement grew rougher, he was no longer softly caressing your breasts but more groping, never getting enough for the softness of them. When you began to stroke him gently, he found it hard to keep himself from digging his nails into your flesh to ground himself and it made a hand of his fall to your leg. His palm was wide and flat against your inner thigh, tracing his lips down your jaw and to your neck to try and distract himself from getting too lost into the feeling.
“Fuck,” he huffed, licking his dry lips as he began to slowly fuck into your closed fist, deaf to the sound of music just outside the bedroom you two were hiding in. The bathroom felt even smaller at this point yet he couldn’t bring himself to put a stop to it now. Especially not when your hand began to fuck his cock faster, with more vigor as he twitched in your hold making his nails dig into your thigh harshly.
Your skirt was scrunched up around your hips at this point and he could see the soft blue of your laced underwear and couldn’t stop himself anymore. He had grown too curious to have you and with his hand so close already, he let his thumb trace along your covered folds.
They were already sensitive at this point and his sudden touch made your insides tighten with arousal, your back straightened in surprise and a light moan left your lips. The sound snapped his attention away from his own pleasure and when he did it again, he swallowed your moan with his mouth on yours.
He couldn’t take thing slow anymore, especially not when his dick felt so close to the edge already and was trying not to cum all over your hand and so soon.
You were withering against him, squirming on the counter to feel more of his hand against your heat. Your fingers tightened in his hair when he reached under to the hem of your panties, pulling them down as far as he could. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he tugged them down your thighs. Jungkook pulled away from your lips with a slight groan as he brought his fingers to your lips. He pressed into your bottom lip watching close as you drew your mouth open and took them in. As you licked between two fingers, your hand’s stroking sped up with more pressure that had him pushing them deeper down your throat.
When he pulled them out there was an obvious line of drool connecting his fingertips to your lips and he brought his hand between your legs once more. The mixture between his rough fingers and the slick that now coated them made a tingle run down your spine when they ran along your folds. You pinched the fabric of his shirt as he circled your hardening clit with his middle finger while his index finger began to tease your sensitive labor.
He ran the longer finger down your slit, dipping into the puddle of arousal that formed at your center before using it to wet your clit and massage you gently.
You looked into his eyes as he finally pressed his middle finger into your waiting cunt, giving you a second to respond and he couldn’t help but let his lips slip open with heavy breaths. Your hand stopped its actions as you took in the feeling of him pulling out his finger before pushing it forward once more. Each time felt hotter than the last and it made him want to take things further. When he thought you adjusted enough, he teased the tip of his ring finger in with his middle one and kept a steady pace of thrusting.
At this point you began to stroke him again, rubbing against his mushroom tip where a thick vein was felt along the underside of it. Your hips had began to move with the motion of his hand and you were fucking his fingers into you while fucking his cock with a closed fist. The both of you were left speechless, unsure how long you had been locked away in the bathroom but not caring either.
You felt more impatient than him but you couldn’t help it. You can’t remember the last time you let someone else touch you and none felt quite like this. Jungkook seemed to know where to kiss, where to press or pay attention to and he never left a part of you untouched. Even now as he thrusted his fingers into you, his other hand was at your chest again, fingers pinching your nipple and tugging harshly but it brought little whines from your lips.
“Jungkook,” You were breathlessly calling for him and you’re sure that if your back wasn’t to the mirror, you would be able to see how desperate you looked to him. Your other hand was on his hips, pulling him forward in hopes of getting him to get the hint that you needed more, “Fuck me.”
“What?” He asked with heavy breaths, looking down at the way the tip of his cock pressed against your inner thigh now, “Really?”
“Please,” You found yourself begging, desperately begging for him to give you something and oh, how it worked.
His eyes rolled back at the soft sound of your begs and with a hand on your thigh, he pulled you harshly to the edge of the counter. He placed his hand over yours and stroked himself once, twice, to slick his member with your arousal and his own.
His cock was hot to the touch and pointed straight to your waiting entrance. He had made such a mess of you already that when he pressed his tip into your clit, it nearly slid down from how wet you are. You had to bite your lip to keep from whining too loud when he teased you with that repeated motion, wetting his tip more and feeling the way your walls tightened and released for him.
Your back was fully against the mirror now, legs open waiting for him and you were getting impatient. The anticipo had been building up for too long and you brought your hand between your legs. All it took was a soft push down for his cock to sink into your waiting pussy.
His jaw went slack at the sudden tightness of it, he hadn’t expected it to be so snug. His tip barely pushed against the ring of nerves and your facial expression matched his own when he kept going. He held your thighs open, guiding himself in with a deep breath.
“Fucking hell,” he growled lowly, hands trembling as he kept you open and ready to take him in. He looked up at your eyes, completely enamored by the way your features softened with pleasure. Your eyes were glazed over with obvious lust that made him want to just fuck you into oblivion.
“Oh my god,” your hand circled around his neck, pulling him into a sloppy wet kiss that left him biting your lip softly. He groaned against your lips as he picked up the pace of his thrusting, letting his cock drag against your puffy walls so that you could feel every juncture on his length. Your back was arched into him, your chest nearly pressed against his and he snuck his arm around your waist to pull you firmly against him.
“That’s it baby,” Jungkook groaned into your ear, gripping onto the counter with his free hand to fuck you better. You were on the edge of the sink and he bucked his hips up to reach that pleasure spot he had found with his fingers just moments ago and had you moaned loudly into his ear, “You sound pretty, tell me how it feels.”
“Feels good,” you whispered softly against his neck, lips teasing kisses against his skin that made the veins in his arms bulge, “Don’t stop, please.”
“Ngh, Y/n, beg for me,” Jungkook said with a deep voice filled with lust as he fucked you with all his strength. There were too many layers of clothing between you but neither of you seemed to have the time or energy to tear them off. You were both too focused on the pleasure that came from feeling his skin against yours.
Your legs tightened around his waist forcing more of his length into your sopping cunt and his fingers pinched your sides roughly. Without thinking, Jungkook lifted you off the counter. You clung to him as he stepped back and he needed a second to just feel the way your pussy tightened around his hard, thick cock. He wanted to dig into your guts and it was nasty how badly he wanted to have you cum all over him.
It was so unexpected because you always came off as a quiet, reserved person but here you were letting him tear you in two with his fat dick. Jungkook used his strength to push you against the door, letting you drop onto his length before backing his hips up and pistoning them back into you.
“Fuck, I can’t,” your legs tightened around him with your face digging into his neck, “Jungkook, baby, I can’t.”
“You can,” He whispered, pressing you firmly into the wall, “Come on baby, take it.”
“Too much,” You whined, squeezing your eyes shut as he picked up the pace and you searched around for something to hold. Your hand tightened around the doorknob, trying to anchor yourself as he fucked you so good you could barely focus on anything but the pleasure, “I’m so close.”
Jungkook’s hand held you firmly by the waist while the other cupped your ass, groping you harshly as he fucked you onto his length trying to make you cum, “Cum baby, for me. Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you moaned, “Kiss me, please?”
He didn’t hesitate to do so, kissing you with tongue as you clung to him, moaning into his ear and shaking slightly. His knees buckled tightly to hold you up and just as he gave one final thrust to the hilt, he felt your orgasm hit you.
Your walls tightened around him, nearly bringing him to his own orgasm before feeling his tip get flooded with your release. His thighs shook with the pressure of it and he felt his strength leaving him. His abdomen grew tense and he pushed you back to the counter where you let your head fall back with pleasure. You swallowed dryly, panting heavily, “Oh my god.”
You were sweaty, tired and overall unsure what to think but your mind hadn’t cleared yet. All you could focus on was the way Jungkook’s dick throbbed painfully hard when he pulled out of you with a slight pop. You eyed his red member, slightly hypnotized by how pretty it looked and you dropped to your knees wordlessly.
Jungkook watched you slip down on your knees in front of him and it took him a moment to process what was going on. He was hard, so fucking hard he couldn’t think straight and it wasn’t until your hands held his thighs, eyeing his cock hungrily did he realize what you wanted to do. He brought a hand fo attempt and gently brush your hair back, “Y/n, baby, you don’t have t—oh fuck.”
His jaw went slack when your hands circled his base, your lips on his tip and taking him down your throat suddenly. Your nose brushed against the base of his cock, eyes watering as you tried relaxing your throat around him and he nearly stumbled back with surprise, “Y/n.”
You ignored his call of your name, and began to bob your head against his length, your tongue licking along the thick vein you discovered earlier and feeling his hands sink into your hair to guide you, “That’s it, fuck.”
Jungkook looked at his reflection in the mirror, turned on by the way your head was seen bobbing against his length and his body was overheating so much he had to pull his shirt over his toned chest to cool down. It gave him a perfect view of the way his cock disappeared between your lips.
The thought of having you like this hadn’t dawned on him yet but now he couldn’t forget it. The memory would always be ingrained in his mind and although he doesn’t know if he’ll never get a chance to do this again, he couldn’t hold it in any longer.
You gradually began to pick up the pace, using your hands to hold closed fists around his cock to help stroke what didn’t fit in your mouth. You swallowed and bobbed around his dick hungrily, moaning around him and hollowing your cheeks when you would pull your head back until only his tip was between your lips.
As ashamed as he was to admit it, he wasn’t going to be able to hold himself back anymore. Still wanting to warn you, he tried to guide your head off him, “I’m close.”
All it did was push you to take him deeper, stopping when he hit the back of your throat and sucked. Jungkook’s eyes squeezed shut with a loud growl as his orgasm hit him harder than it had in a very long time.
You coughed as his cum sprayed down your throat, thick and creamy with a bittersweet taste that you tried to lick up. You would’ve cleaned him off fully despite his legs shaking but he pulled you off. He pulled his softening dick out of your wet mouth with a huff, panting heavily as he looked down at you.
“Y/n,” his voice was dry, pulling you up to your feet, “That was…”
He couldn’t even get the words out as he watched you lick the corner of your lips and without thinking about it, he pulled you into a heated kiss. You kissed him back with need, moaning against him as his tongue circled around yours hungrily, not caring for the way he tased on you. You only broke away to catch your breath, realization dawning at you as you looked at his messy appearance that surely mirrored yours.
You sat against the counter for a moment, attempting to catch your breath as Jungkook did the same. The two of you were silently readjusting your clothes again and you needed just a moment to yourself. He looked at you, buttoning his jeans back up, “Is everything… okay?”
“Yeah, um, can I just get a minute,” You said with a hoarse voice trying to pretend like you couldn’t see the way his shoulders slumped down. With a short nod of his head, he left the bathroom to let you wash up and for a moment you just looked at yourself in the mirror.
Your reflection looked different, maybe because what you had just done was so out of character and with your best friend’s ex but… why did it feel right?
Jungkook wondered what would happen now, if you expected him to leave the room or wait for you but he wanted to be with you. He didn’t want to walk out and think that because he got something he’s been wanting for years now, he’ll just leave. He knows the others are looking for him, mostly because he’s gotten a few texts now asking where he’s at but he can’t bring it in himself to care. When you opened the bathroom door into the dark room, he looked like a deer caught in headlights, rushing to his feet, “Are you sure everything is fine?”
“Yeah, yes,” you nodded stiffly, “If you want to go out there with everyone else that’s fine. I won’t be upset or anything.”
“Well, I was kind of wondering if you wanted to come back to mine?”
The first thing you noticed the following morning aside from the sun shining down on your face was the heavy arm across your waist. It made your eyes flutter awake with a small huff leaving your lips as you attempted to stretch your limbs but it tightened around you, securing you closer to Jungkook’s naked chest.
“Morning,” he mumbled sleepily into your hair as he hugged you closer.
“What time is it?” You asked awkwardly, trying to sit up making his arm slide to your hips instead. You reached for your cell phone, eyes widening by the number of text messages.
miyoung: bye I was drunkkkkkk 😳
miyoung: did I 🤮 at all?
miyoung: r u alive
miyoung: helloooooooo
A quiet sigh escaped your lips as you read it over. Either she couldn’t remember how upset she was in the car or she’s going to pretend like nothing at all happened.
God, what did you do?
“Y/n,” Jungkook grumbled tiredly, “Lay back down.”
“I should go,” You bit your lip nervously. If Miyoung forgot what happened last night then maybe she forgot about Jungkook asking you and won’t know you… slept with him. Fuck, were you a bad friend?
He dated your best friend and dumped her out of the blue making it obvious he wanted nothing to do with her and here you are letting him fuck you in the bathroom. What did that make you? You had a poor lapse of judgment last night, you acted out of character and hadn’t been behaving like yourself at all.
“Why?” He sat up suddenly, “You don’t work today, right? Why don’t we go grab breakfast—well, brunch.”
You looked down at him, unable to stop yourself from taking in his appearance. He had bed hair, no shirt on and his blanket draped over his waist. He failed to take off his jewelry last night so he still wears silver chain necklaces around his neck and leather bracelets. You couldn’t possibly spend time with him still. It wasn’t right, right?
Just as you were ready to give him your answer, your phone began to vibrate with an incoming call. You looked down at the screen and a picture of you and Miyoung displayed on the screen that had Jungkook huffing quietly and laying back down, close to giving up.
In all honesty, you weren’t in the mood to talk to her. It still bothered you by how harsh she was last night but there’s a chance she doesn’t even remember and… “Hello?”
“Tell me why I have a raging headache when I barely drank last night?” Miyoung said immediately once the call went through, “It’s your fault y’know for upsetting me.”
You couldn’t see her but she was walking on a treadmill in her apartment acting like everything was completely normal. Jungkook didn’t care for your conversation either but he was focused on the way you looked first thing in the morning.
You looked cute, undeniably cute with circles under your eyes and a disheveled appearance. You wore an oversized shirt of his so you wouldn’t have to sleep in such uncomfortable clothes and he loved it. You looked good in his clothes.
Without thinking, he sat up and pressed his lips to yours in a short and surprising kiss. You flinched back with confusion, nearly dropping your phone in the process but he backed away with a small smile. You tried to glare at him but you couldn’t stop from smiling and it annoyed you when he placed a gentle kiss against your neck that made you feel flustered. You almost forgot you were on the phone when he leaned in for a kiss again and one you would surely grant.
“But I forgive you,” Miyoung said suddenly.
“What?”
“I forgive you, I’m over it,” Miyoung said with a shrug you couldn’t see, “Our friendship means more to me than Jungkook and I know you would never do anything that you know would upset me so… it’s whatever. In the past.”
“Wait,” You held up a hand to Jungkook as you said it to the both of them, “When did I apologize?”
He stopped immediately, looking at you with concern as Miyoung went on, “I mean, we both know you were going to. I’m just letting you know it’s alright.”
“No, Miyoung, I wasn’t going to,” you couldn’t help but scoff, “I haven’t done anything wrong.”
Technically.
Jungkook raised his brows, surprised by your tone and a little turned on? Was that okay to say?
“I didn’t mean it like that, but you know… you were flirting with the guy who dumped me,” Miyoung said, “It’s fine, whatever, you want to flirt with Jungkook, I don’t care anymore I just thought I meant more to you as a friend.”
You didn’t say anything for a moment as you looked down at Jungkook who couldn’t seem to go more than a minute without attention. He had your free hand in his measuring your size difference and you released a sigh, “You know what, I’m kind of busy right now so I’ll call you later.”
Miyoung wasn’t able to get a word in before you ended the call, turning your attention to Jungkook, “You’re getting me in trouble, sir.”
“I’m terribly sorry,” he said, biting back a grin, “How should I make it up to you? Brunch?”
“You’re still thinking about that?” You asked with a slight laugh.
It was strange trying not to let your best friend’s feelings bring you down too.
“I’m hungry,” Jungkook said, hand on his toned stomach for detail.
“I don’t have clothes or, I don’t know, a toothbrush,” you couldn’t help but sound sarcastic, falling back on the bed with an arm on his chest.
“Don’t worry, I got you.”
In the end you caved to his incessant begging and found yourself dressed as casual as ever with an oversized tee and the skirt you wore last night clashing horribly. The only thing that had you regretting it was what stood [parked] in front of you.
“You’re not serious, are you?” You asked as you watched him walk up to you with a helmet in his hands, “I can’t get on that.”
“You can,” Jungkook said, putting it over your head, “I’m a very safe driver.”
“What about your car?” You asked nervously as he buckled[?] you into the head gear, “Can’t we just go in that.”
“We can but that won’t impress you,” Jungkook snorted a laugh as he got his own helmet on, “Come on Y/n, I won’t kill you, don’t worry.”
With a small sigh you nodded, letting him lead you to the bike and he swung a leg over to straddle it and patted the seat right behind him. Frankly, you didn’t care that you were in a skirt. You know that there’s an appropriate way for people in skirts to straddle something but you cared more about living so you straddled it the way he did. Jungkook couldn’t help but smile as he felt the softer touch of your hands on his waist and without saying a word, he pulled you into him suddenly. Your chest was pressed to his back and your arms snug around his waist.
“Atta girl, no time to be shy now,” he chuckled, feeling you smack his arm playfully.
If he were being honest, he liked this side of you. He’s never seen it before and it was breathtaking and enjoyable. Before when you were just classmates you were still stand offish from him and the only night he got you to open up was the first time he ran into you and met Miyoung. It was short lived and once he dated her, he rarely got to see you alone.
When he got back, you would barely even look at him yet whatever spurred last night’s events seemed to open up new possibilities for you two. You haven’t talked about what happened but he’s expecting it almost excitedly.
Jungkook’s hand ran up your thighs, securing you to him as he started up the motorcycle, feeling the smoothness of your leg and teasing the end of your skirt with a small tug, “Ready?”
He felt you squeeze harder before taking off.
The cafe was small and filled with warmth making this feel oddly close to a date… which is probably because it was? You’re still not sure how to take it.
“Did I really get you in trouble?” Jungkook asked as he cut his breakfast sandwich in half before doing the same with yours. When you looked at him he looked concerned by the notion. You didn’t have to ask to know what he was referring to and you couldn’t help but sigh, “Not really, sorry, it was more my fault than any—“
“Why though?” Jungkook cut you off, “Why is it always your fault? You can’t talk to me now?”
“You know we didn’t just talk,” you bit your lip nervously. You couldn’t meet his gaze and he didn’t like that.
He huffed in annoyance, “But she doesn’t know, or does she? I mean, what does it matter?”
“You dated. She’s my best friend and it bothers her, I already feel guilty for what happened last night—not that I regret it, don’t get me wrong but… well, it’s just confusing and it upsets her,” You rambled, still defending Miyoung even when she was slowly getting under your skin.
“We dated so long ago, it was such a short fling,” Jungkook said with a laugh as he went back to eating, “And she dumped me so why does it matter if you and I get together?”
“I don’t know, I just… she’s my best frie—wait, what did you say?” You met his stare suddenly making him set down his coffee cup to answer.
“She dumped me so why can’t you and I…” he stopped. Did you mean for him to repeat the part about being with you? Did you want him to say it again, maybe use the right words this time?
Why is he saying Miyoung dumped him? You remember the day exactly.
Miyoung called you while you were studying in the library late one night, not fully in tears but clearly under duress and she couldn’t stop herself from letting her emotions get to her. She went on to tell you how Jungkook dumped her suddenly over a phone call because he wasn’t interested anymore and was just using her or something.
You remember because you left the library to go comfort her and you almost ran into him on campus and he wouldn’t even look you in the eye…
He dumped her because he got bored, that’s why she asked you to stop talking to him. He was just like every other guy according to her and you owed her the promise to avoid him. It was you who introduced them anyway and…
Why is it that any guy you’ve ever thought you’ve liked would fall for her instead, only to dump her and in return make her ask you to not speak to them again?
Jungkook wasn’t the first so when she asked you to avoid him, it bothered you a little but you soon got over it and did as told.
You always do as told without questioning it.
“You broke up with her.”
He chuckled, shaking his head no, “I was going to but she beat me to it. I don’t know how honest you want me to be this early in the day.”
“Tell me,” you urged him on.
“I wanted to break up with her but I had this sick feeling that I wasn’t going to be able to talk to you as much anymore or it would be awkward so I stuck it out,” Jungkook said it with a shrug, “But then she dumped me and suddenly you won’t even look at me so it was worse for me, I guess.”
Your eyebrows stitched together with confusion, “What are you saying? Why did you care if I talked to you or not? You went for Miyoung the second you met her—“
“That’s not true, actually,” Jungkook confessed, deciding if you wanted honesty he would give it even if it embarrassed him, “I wanted you.”
“And when I met her, I was obviously there at the bar trying to talk to you but she kept butting in and next thing I know, you were off talking to Yoongi and ignoring me,” Jungkook went on, “To be honest, I was kind of insecure back then, like really insecure and I was trying to get you to notice me but everytime someone would cu—“
“Jungkook, stop, I just… no, you did not like me, you dated Miyoung,” You cut him off, fidgeting in your seat anxiously, “It’s fine, it’s in the past.”
“No it’s not fine and I asked how honest you wanted me to be and you told me to tell you so I’m going to,” Jungkook said more seriously, “I was insecure, alright? I had just moved to the city and I shared class with this pretty, incredibly smart girl who would barely give me any time of day. Honestly it was kind of depressing, I was kinda depressed at the time and I needed a boost to talk to you so I asked Miyoung and… she said you were into someone else so I was pretty bummed out. Then she’s kind of just everywhere and she actually tries to talk to me so when she asks me out, I say yes but I realize I still have to see you.”
“And I liked being around you even though I probably shouldn’t have because technically I was dating her at this point and I realized that I practically screwed up whatever chance I might have had with you,” Jungkook couldn’t stop himself anymore. He was saying whatever was on his mind, barely giving you time to process any of it before continuing, “Yes, I know it’s fucked up because whenever I thought it might work and I might catch real feelings for her, you would came around and they just went out the window. So it was getting harder and harder to keep pretending and I wanted to break up with her but I was worried you wouldn’t talk to me anymore.”
“She beat me to it and dumped me because she was bored and I was relieved, honestly, but then I see you on campus and you can’t even look at me anymore,” Jungkook cleared his throat, “Then life went on, I moved away, moved back, ran into you again and…”
“And what?” You asked breathlessly, lips dry and completely frozen in your seat.
He looked at you warmly, “I found you, everything just came back and I knew I didn’t want to lose you a second time. I wanted to ask you out the first night at the bar but you didn’t even want to talk to me so I tried again last night and you were so ready to blow me off when Miyoung came along. I don’t know what made you come back to the party and I don’t want you thinking I’m some sleazy guy who acts like that with just anyone. I was just… it was unexpected and I had been waiting years for something to happen between us.”
Suddenly, this didn’t feel like an easy brunch inside a warm and cozy cafe anymore. In all honesty, it felt a little suffocating now and you don’t know how to explain it, but you didn’t want to be here. So much has just been thrown at you and you don’t think you can handle it all.
What did he mean that he liked you first?
Why had Miyoung told him you were into someone else? You learned to stop sharing who you liked with her so long ago and had never once told her anything like that in school. Why couldn’t she just have asked you? Why did she ask him out after he made it known he wanted you?
You don’t care that he said yes, that really was in the past for you. Now you’re more focused on why someone who was supposed to be your best friend would act so sneaky? What did she gain from it?
Why did she lie and say he dumped her? Was it just so she can paint him as a villain and make you not want to talk to him anymore? Why would she do that?
“Y/n?” He called your name waiting for you to respond to him but you just sat there stunned, “I’m sorry, I know I was a piece of shit for dating her when I wanted you bu—Y/n.”
Your mind is filled with questions that you couldn’t answer and it was overwhelming. The cafe felt suddenly overwhelming and you just had to get out of there, so you did.
“Earth to Y/n, I don’t know how long you plan on ignoring the world but I know you’re not too busy with work to ignore your friends.”
Tacky, Taehyung was so very tacky leaving a concerning voicemail. Who left voicemails these days?
And he was being dramatic, he’s acting like you’ve fallen off the face of the Earth but that’s not true. You’ve just been holed up at either the office or your home for the past week, avoiding any call or text from anyone so you could be alone with your thoughts.
Alright it’s been over a week, almost two and maybe it is a little concerning but you’re telling yourself you’re just being dramatic.
“Y/n you better open the door before I break it down,” Taehyung’s muffled voice boomed from the other side of your front door and you begrudgingly went to let him in.
“Relax, I’m not dead,” You muttered under your breath as you let him in.
“Damn near!” Taehyung said loudly as he let himself through the door, “What is up with you? You haven’t responded to any text I was beginning to get worried.”
“Sorry,” you mumbled as you flopped down onto your couch, “I’ve just been tired.”
“Too tired to answer the phone?” Taehyung asked sitting down next to you, “Miyoung, I get. Ignore her all you want but me? What did I ever do to you? What’s up with you? I haven’t talked to you since the party. Did something happen?”
With a small sigh, you let your head rest against the back of the couch, “I slept with Jungkook.”
“Really?” Taehyung seemed genuinely surprised, “So fallout with Miyoung I’m assuming? Look, I personally don’t get why you try to make her happy but she’ll get over it. Did you like it? Like him?”
“Yes, I don’t know, I’m confused, I don’t know what to believe anymore,” you admitted, “And I feel so dumb because this shouldn’t be a big deal.”
“Alright well I need you to rewind and explain things better so my pea brain can handle it,” Taehyung made himself comfortable, “You’ve gone Ghost for over a week, I want to know why. Was it because of Jungkook? Miyoung? If you think sleeping with him makes you a bad friend the—“
“She’s a liar,” you cut in, “And it shouldn’t bother me so much because she’s my best friend but that’s why it bothers me, Tae. I’ve known her for so long, and I’ve always tried to be a good friend to her but it was never enough. So I tried harder and harder because who else would be there for me like her but… now that I’m looking back on it, I don’t think she’s ever cared about me as much as I care about her and it sucks, honestly.”
Taehyung wanted to tell you so many people cared about you but he wanted you to say whatever you needed to say first.
“You know what Jungkook said? He said Miyoung knew he apparently liked me before and still asked him out—and lied about how I felt about him,” You said, “And okay, why would I fight over a guy with my best friend but now that I’m thinking about it… it’s fucked up right? She lied that he dumped her and begged me to avoid him. You saw how she acted the other night just because he talked to me. What was that about?”
You weren’t going to go into full detail about the past because you owed Jungkook enough to not tell Taehyung about everything he said but he needed context.
“And I know it’s in the past so I should just move on but I can’t,” You admitted, “I still like him but if I… I get with him Miyoung would never let me forget that she dated him first, even if he liked me. It’s just all so confusing and overwhelming and it sucks that I’m letting it get to me like this but… it’s not fair.”
Once again, Taehyung didn’t say anything but he could tell you were feeling emotional by the way your voice began to shake.
“I like him, and not in the way I liked him before but I like this new him too, and it’s not fair that even if she lied or even if she snaps at me about shit that doesn’t matter, I will still feel guilty,” You finished.
“Y/n,” Taehyung cleared his throat, “Obviously I don’t know everything that happened back then but… I think that if you feel for him what he feels for you, it shouldn’t matter what she says. And honestly, I just… I wish you could see that there are so many people who care about you so much and you don’t have to put up with being belittled by someone who is supposed to be your best friend just because you have history. It doesn’t matter if it’s in the past, if it’s upsetting you now then clearly it still matters so don’t try to downplay your emotions.”
“But she’s my best friend,” your lip quivered.
“Then what am I?” He forced his lip to quiver as well.
“You’re my best friend too,” you sniffled.
Taehyung mimicked your expression, “Then as your best friend, I’m telling you to stop trying to make excuses for people who don’t treat you right—and go fix it with this guy.”
“Bu—“
“Y/n, I know you,” Taehyung sighed, “And I know that you’re not going to do anything if you think it upsets her but she doesn’t deserve a friend like you. You deserve to go be with whoever you want. I don’t care about what she says and at this point neither should you. I know that right now it’s confusing and you’re overwhelmed but if you’ve been ignoring me you’ve been ignoring him—I hope because if it’s just me that’s cold—and if the girl I had feelings for ghosted me… I’d be hurt.”
Jungkook was not hurt. He was… y'know, perfectly fine and that’s what he kept telling himself. It’s not like you made any real sign of feeling something for him too after hooking up and maybe that had just been a casual, one time thing. He can handle that, he’s grown.
Sure, he sort of spilled his damn heart out to you just for you to storm off on him and not reach out to him in days but he’s not bothered by it at all. That’s why when his two closest friends called Saturday night asking him to go clubbing… he said yes.
It was a chance to possibly let it go, forget it even, but it wasn’t easy. He was aware that he was possibly reading too into what happened the other night but could you blame him? You’re suddenly all about him and spend the night at his place where you wake up in his arms before going out to eat. It was like the perfect set up for a what if yet it went all wrong. Clearly it was his fault for being hopeful.
“So who else did you say is meeting us here?” Jungkook asked Hoseok for confirmation as he passed him a drink. The music played loudly in his eardrums that it was borderline painful and he wanted to leave more than anything but there was that stupid what if in his head.
“Jimin’s joining later on and so is Namjoon and his girl,” Hoseok said as he made sure everyone else had what they ordered, “Oh, and Y/n too, I think.”
“Y/n?” Jungkook tried clarifying. Hoseok smiled, “I know, it’s weird, Y/n seriously rarely comes out but all of a sudden she’s starting to more. I mean, lately she has, probably since around the time you got back?”
Jungkook let his friend go off to do whatever he wanted while he stood there seemingly frozen. Tonight would be the first time in days that he sees you—talks to you—and he’s not sure how to handle it. There’s nothing he can do about it either because he hasn’t confided in anyone yet but it’s painfully obvious that he’s waiting for you.
Yoongi noticed first, like he usually did, and tried talking to him, “What’s up with you? You’ve been antsy since the party, will you finally tell me where you ran off to?”
“Yeah man, don’t think we didn’t notice when you disappeared,” Jin said with a slight wink, “We just want to know with who.”
“Y/n.”
He could see you from the corner of his eye when you joined them at a table they had found. You came with Jimin by your side and a shy smile on your face. He assumed it was Hoseok who had screamed your name considering how he hogged your attention with a huge grin and Jungkook felt nervous all of a sudden.
As embarrassing as it was, Jungkook had nearly forgotten what he was asked until he looked back at Yoongi and Jin who looked at him expectantly. A nervous laugh escaped his lips as he shrugged, “Did you guys miss me too much?”
“Sneaky guy, don’t change the subject,” Jin laughed before letting Jungkook shift his attention back to you, making it painfully obvious where he was focused.
You felt a little nervous to be out tonight but after what you had talked about with Taehyung, you knew he was right. You acted strange with Jungkook after he opened up his side of things to you and it was plain wrong. Part of you isn’t even sure if he’s actually interested or not since he didn’t reach out to you this week and it made you wonder if he was really upset.
And if he was, would that mean that he didn’t want to speak to you?
“I need a drink,” you mumbled to yourself more than to the others but it made a good excuse to at least try. You looked at Jungkook for the first time since you got there and cleared your throat to awkwardly ask, “Jungkook, do you mind going with me?”
“Get me another, will ya?” Yoongi asked with a sudden wink that made Jungkook do a double take. Was he winking over the drink or him leaving with you?
He nodded his head in response and without question followed you to the bar once more. The bar was packed from all sides and Jungkook had to fight his way to the counter working as a barrier from people pushing at you. If he were to be honest, he wanted to skip the questions and get close to you again but he had to stay strong. He needed answers, right?
“Are we good?” Was the only thing he could think to ask.
You looked at him warmly, sitting down on the stool at the counter with him standing close to you, his hand itching to reach for you. Your lip caught between your teeth as you nodded, “Are we?”
For some reason he didn’t expect to be asked that back. It made him wonder if he thought you were. It was undeniably embarrassing to have you walk out on him like that after he thought it had been going good but did that mean he was truly upset with you?
“Yeah,” he nodded stiffly, blinking nervously and looking to the bartender who noticed them a while ago but had to attend to earlier customers first, “But uh, I guess I am just a little confused by it all. Did I do something to upset you? Was it what I said?”
“No, no, I’m sorry, it wasn’t you,” You blurted out, “It was me, I wasn’t thinking straight and I feel really bad about leaving like that.”
“Then why didn’t you just call or even text me?” Jungkook asked honestly, “I… I think that’s what bothered me the most.”
You looked down at your hands, “I'm sorry. I didn’t talk to anyone, seriously, and I did think about reaching out to you but I don’t know, I’m really bad at explaining things.”
“Well can you try? I know it was sudden but I thought it had been going good,” Jungkook said and the longer he tried getting to the bottom of this, the more annoyed he felt that you couldn’t just say it, “I think I’ve made it clear now how I feel about you and all I’m asking is for you to do the same.”
“I—yes,” you stumbled over your words, “I mean, I’m trying to be clear now but I’m doing a shit job at it. I did have a good time with you but it was honestly, really out of character for me to yknow… and then the whole Miyoung thing and I’m sorry but it was just a lot all at once. It’s definitely not fair to you that I acted that way, but I do have feelings for you.”
He let out a sigh, feeling unsure how to take it and stuck between wanting to smile in relief and wanting to be upset. You didn’t text him, nothing. How is that fair? He wanted to reach out to you but after the way you left he thought he would just make it worse if he kept bothering you. The bartender finally got to you two and he let you speak first as he tried gathering his thoughts a little more.
“But what does this mean?” Jungkook asked now, “I want you and you want me, right? So, what does this mean Y/n because right now I’m still confused by it all. If it’s because of Miyoung then—“
“No, it’s not, honestly,” You said, reaching for him, pinching the bottom of his shirt between your fingers to pull him toward you, “I don't care what she thinks anymore, I like you and I should have just said that from the beginning.”
The pull was harsh and had him looking down with his lips slightly parted in surprise, “Y/n, you’re not being fair.”
You knew it. You knew you probably ruined your chance now and coming to see him had just been a waste. You nearly let go of him when he continued, “You can’t ignore me and walk out on me and then just tell me you want me too, expecting everything to be fine.”
He had to be tough. He can’t just let it go even though you’re saying everything he wants to hear.
“You’re right, I’m sorry,” you said with a slight frown, “I can leave if you want me to.”
“Ugh,” he groaned, unable to help himself anymore as he closed the distance between you two. He circled an arm around you and pulled you into a hug, “Why would I want you to leave when I’ve been waiting for you to get here?”
“What?” You asked, hands finding his waist as he held you, “I thought you were mad.”
“I was,” Jungkook said, “So you don’t know how annoyed I am with myself right now. All it takes is for you to sweet talk me a bit and give me those eyes of yours for me to fold, that’s embarrassing.”
“Jungkook,” you said, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have walked out like that. I should have texted you and if you want to be mad, I get it. If you want to think it over an—“
“And what if I don’t?” He asked looking down at your pouty lips and glossy eyes, “What if I just want to let it go and be with you without any more problems? Can I do that?”
His tone was surprisingly firm and you couldn’t do anything but nod, “Okay.”
It didn’t change the fact that you still felt bad because it seemed like you were being let off the hook easily but what else could you do? Jungkook really did seem ready to move past it and that’s why you came here in the first place. You just hadn’t expected it to be so easy and it made you feel bad.
When your drinks were ready, you opened up a tab despite his protests to just put it on his and the two of you got back to the group like nothing had happened. There was still a lot that needed to be talked about before you told anyone about what happened but it’s not like they were all oblivious.
Jimin, for instance, had been keeping an eye on you two at the bar since you left and had seen the majority of your conversation but he didn’t bring it up. Instead he watched silently for your little glances in each other’s direction and shy smiles. It was obvious to Yoongi too that Jungkook was in a much better mood now than earlier and it wasn’t hard for him to figure out why.
Perhaps for the same reason you had suddenly started joining them more often, being more comfortable too.
It had been a slow start for the two of you after the night at the club. Neither one of you seemed to want to rush into things but at times there was a strong pull. Tonight was going to be your first official date but you were keeping that information to your friends until you figure out if this works or not.
Jungkook picked you up from your apartment and drove to a nice restaurant where the two of you sat for dinner. He was very attentive to you, making sure your glass was always full and all your needs met and it was a surprisingly good feeling to be taken care of this way. You’ve dated in the past but you can’t say you’ve always chosen the right ones. You had a tendency to lean toward the ones who were overly forward with you because in your mind there was no doubt they liked you.
At first it would be nice but then you would realize that it was more of a conquering feeling to them than actually wanting to be with you and you would be left heartbroken. That’s part of why you rarely put yourself out there.
Jungkook is different though, he always has been. When you first met him he was forward but aloof. You never expected him to actually like you because you couldn’t see the signs clearly and the way things turned out it just never worked. Now that he’s been back he’s almost like an entirely different person in the sense that he’s ready to go for what he wants and it’s sort of admirable.
If you had been able to do that back then maybe you would have had him sooner but there was no point in dwelling in the past. He was here now and so were you. Honestly, knowing that there's something that’s been brewing between you two for a long time made it easier to feel confident around him.
“Why are you so pretty?” Jungkook couldn’t help but ask even if his mouth was full. He was trying not to smile too as he said that.
“Oh my god,” You felt your face heat up, tempted to hide behind your hand. It took you a moment to think of a response and it was surprising for the both of you to hear you say, “Why are you?”
Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly in hopes of not seeming too affected by your words. It didn’t work and he broke out into a grin, “I wasn’t expecting that.”
Dinner was filled with small flirting here and there. It’s crazy how well you and him seemed to get along when you stopped worry about other things. He made you smile, really smile and you made him feel giddy whenever he talked to you. He wanted to spend his night with you and nobody else.
“Are we going to meet with everyone else after this?” You asked as he pulled your chair out for you and you got up from the table. After some back and forth arguing, he eventually took care of the bill despite your protests and the night felt near its finish much to your disappointment.
It was the weekend and you’ve been trying to go out with your friends more and they had asked to meet up later—but both you and Jungkook had to tell them maybe.
“Do we have to?” He asked, taking your bag in one hand and holding yours with the other, “You think they’ll get a little suspicious if we’re both gone?”
You walked with him across the restaurant toward the entrance. You weren’t paying much attention to the people you passed, “I’m sure they know.”
Your response surprised him a bit and he couldn’t help but ask, “Really? Has it been that obvious?”
“Yeah, Jimin called me out on it the other night,” you shrugged, reaching for your bag to look for chapstick while he led you to the front. You couldn’t meet his eyes because you sensed where this was going.
“What’d he say?” Jungkook asked slowing his pace for you.
You blinked nervously, distracting yourself with your lipbalm as you tried sounding casual, “He asked why we were being so sneaky at the bar.”
Jungkook’s eyes widened slightly, opening the door for you as he said, “Damn, what did you say?”
“I said because we’re together.”
You tried being slick about it and slide past him without much attention but it was useless. He stood in front of you with a smile on his face, “Oh, we are? I don’t remember you clarifying that. Can you remind me when you asked me to be your man?”
“Oh god, don’t act like that,” you whined shyly.
“I’m sorry baby, I gotta hear you say it with your own words. What’d you tell him?” Jungkook blocked your path, hands finding your waist and keeping you from running. He liked making you flustered and you had no idea how you left him with a racing heart.
You pouted, looking at him seriously, “Jungkook.”
The two of you stood outside the restaurant looking like a playful couple that maybe had one too many drinks but it was all Jungkook’s fault. He wouldn’t let it go to rest and even had the nerve to smirk as he teasingly said, “That’s not how you say ‘Boyfriend’.”
“You’re ridiculous, we talked about this,” you said, focused on his chest to hide your embarrassment.
Jungkook just grinned mischievously, “What did you tell him?”
“I said you were my boyfriend,” you mumbled into his chest.
“Your what?” He asked trying to step back and get a good look at your face, “Come on baby, don’t get shy on me now.”
You whined, “Jung—“
“Your what?” He was laughing now, not caring for whoever might pass them and stare because he felt good. Too good to be affected by a stranger’s judgement.
“My boyfriend,” you sighed with embarrassment, “You heard me the first time, goof.”
“That’s what I thought, alright, you ready to go?” He asked with a chuckled as he took your hand in his ready to walk with you to the car.
“Y/n?”
You both stopped in your step, wondering if it really was your name you had heard. You looked back toward the rest, eyes threatening to widen with surprise as you looked at the person who stood at the entrance. She was with a group of people all headed inside but when she saw you, she stopped.
“Miyoung, hey,” You cleared your throat awkwardly, your demeanor changing completely.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” She asked as her eyes trailed behind you where Jungkook was looking at you with worry and confusion. He wanted to make sure everything would be alright, knowing how Miyoung would react. He didn’t want your good night to be ruined over something petty.
“What do you mean? I’m uh, I was just having dinner,” you said stiffly, looking back at Jungkook which proved to be a mistake because it seemed to solidify his presence to her.
“With jungkook?” She asked with a snappy tone. Miyoung shooed away her friends, telling them to go in without her as she approached you.
“Yeah.”
“Why?” Her brow arched with amusement, clearly ticked off and in disbelief by what she saw before her. Like usual, the situation seemed much worse than it really was.
It was time for you to be up front. What’s the point in putting yourself out there and letting yourself open up to him if you wouldn’t have the courage to make it known? You swallowed dryly, “Because we’re… dating.”
Jungkook had stepped back from the situation, not wanting to worsen it so he stood off by a light post not too far for a smoke break. He tried distracting himself with lighting his cigarette but he couldn’t help but freeze up when you said that. It brought a shy smile to his face as he waited for you to finish.
“No, you’re not,” Miyoung scoffed looking back at Jungkook as if betrayed by him too. You blinked with confusion, what did she mean you’re not? Did she expect you to be joking or back down? “We are.”
Miyoung stood in front of you now, slightly taller, “Y/n, you’ve been ignoring me for weeks and now you’re saying you’re dating my ex boyfriend? What kind of friend are you?”
This time it was you who scoffed lightly, looking away from her to try and process what you would say but you had spent too much time already trying to think it over, “The thing is, um, I’ve been kind of wondering the same about you.”
“Me?” She looked down at you genuinely taken back, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat and tried to gather the courage to just say it. You could feel Jungkook around, listening but giving you space and it was like a push start for you to say what was really on your mind, “I’m just tired of feeling like I’m the only one who puts effort into being friends and I don’t see the point in always fighting. We’re not together, we don’t have to be friends if it always has to be some sort of argument. It’s getting tiring at this point and I think maybe it’s best we just distance ourselves from each other.”
“You’re kidding, right? I’m like the only person who really cares about you, Y/n. Don’t act stupid.”
Although that made Jungkook want to intervene and tell her how very wrong she was, he didn’t. He didn’t want to speak for you. He knew you could speak for yourself and he should let you, even if he was itching to cut in.
“No, I don’t think you are. I know you think you are so you always tell me you are, but you’re not. People like me for me and not just because I’m friends with you,” you said coldly and your tone was definitive it left her speechless. It had to be one of the first times you were ever remotely close to snappy with her and she didn’t expect it.
“I know it’s hard for you to think of me as my own person but I don’t have to do what you want,” You said, “And I think you only boss me around and act sneaky behind my back because you’re threatened by me.”
She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. What you said left her rendered quiet. You waited too, waited to see if she would tell you to stand down but she didn’t and you didn’t give her time too, “ But I think I should go, I don’t want to bother your dinner any longer—and uh, maybe we just shouldn’t contact each other anymore.”
Jungkook had forgotten about his smoke break, jaw nearly to the floor at how confident you sounded. It was obvious you had never spoken to Miyoung that way but she couldn’t even deny what you said. You did it so casually and like you couldn’t care less which made you seem mature compared to Miyoung’s tantrums.
“Why was that kind of hot?” Jungkook asked as you finally reached him under the light post. Miyoung had stormed off with an evil glare that he ignored telling you how “You’re done”.
He looked down at you with hazed eyes, amazed and enamored. You scrunch your face curiously, “What was?”
“You, right now,” He chuckled, reaching for your hand in his, “Kind of scary too. Remind me not to get on your bad side.”
“You’re exaggerating,” you tried to laugh it off, “I wasn’t mean, was I?”
It was so dumb of you to still be worried about it but you couldn’t help it.
“No, you were calm and casual but that was so scary,” Jungkook gasped dramatically, “Because I know you were mad at her—… it was mean but only a little and so very very hot, and you’re doing all this in that dress…”
Without meaning to be, Jungkook was sort of like your hype man. You were worried about being too harsh, you still are, but he made you feel better about it. Part of you will never not feel in the wrong for being with Jungkook but you’ve gotten the rest off your chest and it felt good. Maybe you were a bit mean or maybe you weren’t, you could never be entirely sure but Jungkook seemed to be on your side no matter what.
“You like my dress?” You asked him with a teasing smile as he held the car door open for you.
“I really do,” he played with his lip ring, looking down at you.
“Then take it off me.”
“Oh fuck,” Jungkook whispered to himself as he looked around the parking lot, “Here?”
You broke out into a laugh as you sat down. Your words got to him easier than you thought and he sighed, “You can’t say that shit to me, Y/n. I’ll actually do it.”
“Let’s go back to my place and see if you can keep your word then,” you told him, watching him close the door with a tense jaw just thinking about it.
You can’t do this to him. You can’t be shy and cute one second and then act like that. You can’t. That’s not fair to him. How is he supposed to not be affected when you say things that get his heart racing while looking so cute? Was this what it would be like dating you? Just constantly caught by surprise?
He did like the way you stood up for yourself. He liked that you spoke your mind more freely than before and he takes joy in hearing you flirt back. In the beginning it felt like he was the one always trying to get you to talk to him or notice him and now you’re saying things that make his head dizzy.
“You’re gonna be the death of me, yknow?” Jungkook asked after the painfully long car ride back to your apartment. He was removing his coat as you sat on the edge of your bed to undo your shoes.
You let out an amused laugh, “What do you mean?”
“I mean… you act all shy and innocent and then you say shit that…” Jungkook let out a groan, “I can’t explain it, you just drive me crazy.”
“In a good way or bad way?” You asked, following him with your eyes as he closed the space between you two until he was at the end of the bed standing in front of you.
“A good way,” he said softly, “I’m finding more sides of you I’ve never seen.”
“And you like it?” You asked shyly, feeling his hands curl around your jaw.
“I do, a lot,” he confessed brushing his lips against yours, “I don't know what I would’ve done if I lost my chance with you again.”
::.
NO PART TWO
oml yall this took me forever to come up with 😭 I went through at least six other ideas before deciding on this one and I can’t tell how happy I am with it yet but I tried my hardest not the disappoint 🥹 I miss being more active and taking to you all but life has been so busy lately
please let me know how you feel and I promise I’ll try to be more active 🫶🏽
permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @skzthinker @unnatae @beautywine @lilliankoo @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @whoa-jo @marvelbun @sunnikthv @kochycooky @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @dream-cvtcher @jksjx @kissyfacekoo @joyjunk @caro134340lina @hyunjinswifeee @oldermenluverrr @caro134340lina @olivialeesstuff [taglist is too long so I’ll have to make two versions of it]
#jeon jungkook#Jungkook smut#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fic#jungkook imagines#jungkook scenarios#jungkook bts#bts jungkook#jungkook#jungkook one shot#jungkook oneshot#jeon jungkook x reader#jungkook x y/n#jungkook angst#jungkook drabble#jungkook fiction#jungkook imagine#bts smut#lost & found#jungkook fluff#jungkook fic recs
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you fiddle with your nails as you walk home at tooru's side, the sounds of mattsun, makki, and iwa bickering further up ahead cutting through the empty streets. you’re uncharacteristically nervous, because god knows you’ve never done something like this before—but you steel yourself because it’s worth it for him.
your feelings for oikawa tooru are all consuming—strong and deep and intense. they’ve been brewing for well over two years now, nourished by the increased amount of time you’ve spent with him. they overwhelm you, washing over your being with an intensity you’ve never felt before, and they drive you to stick by his side for as long as you can—desperate and aching for the boy who puts the stars in your sky.
you know that timing is important because tooru is nothing if not driven—singularly focused on the sport that gives him the air he needs to breathe. so you wait until well after his match with karasuno, giving your all to support him and the rest of the team because volleyball has become important to you after spending so much time with them. you give it time, wait until after the team has taken the time to lament over their missed chance, and after all the third years are ready to move on to the next phase of their lives, before you finally decide to spill your guts to him.
tooru stares ahead as he’s walking, pensive and unsmiling, and you’re dying to know what’s going on in his head. his eyes are bright, a contrast to his expression, and there’s a resolute glint in his irises that has you feeling oddly shaken. when you reach his house, the rest of the group waves back at him before continuing on, and you realize this is your chance.
so, dangerously, you put your heart on the line.
you tell him everything you've ever thought about him—how you admire his drive and his passion, how you have looked up to him for years and years. how you have never felt so deeply for someone before knowing him. it comes out in a rushed ramble of words, all those nights of practicing in the mirror doing nothing for you in the actual moment. you stumble a few times, your face getting warmer with every word, and yet as each sentence falls forth you feel a weight lift from your shoulders—the flesh of your lungs clatter against your ribs, anxious and eager.
tooru inhales, gaze darting between your eyes and then flitting downwards. even in the dark of the night, you can see the pinkish hue crawling up his neck, can see the way he fidgets with his own fingers. he stares at you, lips parted as a wide array of emotions flit over his handsome features—they finally settle into a strange combination of apologetic and resigned.
and then he tells you no.
he tells you that volleyball will always take precedence, that he has already mapped out his future, which is too far away from you. he tells you about argentina and how his mind is made up. he tells you that he's flattered, that he's glad you're friends but that's all he can do right now.
“i'm sorry,” he says with a grimace. he studiously avoids looking at you, but you can't stop staring at him—your stomach sinks as he turns to head inside.
it takes you months to muster up the courage to tell him. it takes him two minutes to say no to you.
the rejection stings in a way that is unfamiliar, and you take a shaky breath as you walk down the street to catch up with the others.
the humiliation makes itself known in the form of a painful lump in your throat—unmoving and heavy. when you glance up you see that the third years have hung back, waiting for you. makki is wearing a knowing grin, but it falters when he sees your expression. mattsun, ever observant, seems to immediately understand, and he wordlessly slings an arm over your shoulder.
all you can do is awkwardly chuckle, knowing that it sounds weak and throaty as you shake your head. “i feel stupid,” you admit, voice wobbling as heat burns through your skin—unpleasant and unwelcome.
“you're not stupid,” makki mutters, hands shoved deep in his pockets as his lips slant regretfully. you stare at the ground, nodding slowly under the weight of mattsun's arm. your lungs ache, and you know that if you open your mouth, you will lose it entirely. so all you can manage to do is look up at iwa with glassy eyes and trembling lips and a rueful smile that probably makes you look as pathetic as you feel.
you don't notice the way his fists are clenched at his sides, nails digging indents into his palms. he grits his teeth, gaze flitting to oikawa's house in the background, but he doesn't say anything.
none of them speak as they walk you home, and you try your best to keep the sniffles to a minimum, too embarrassed to look at them.
you've never felt pain like this before, and it's hard to get over it because everything reminds you of tooru. it's like someone has taken a knife and carved into your ribcage, grasping your heart before taking it out crushing it between bloodied fingers. but even despite the gaping hole in your chest you know that there are expectations to be met, things to be done.
that's the strange thing about your silly unrequited love—it hurts and hurts and hurts some more until it stops one day before you can realize it. even though your chest is still bleeding you go on with life—you go to university, you get a job, you pay bills. you get up in the morning and brush your hair and drink water and tie your shoes until the wound closes itself up. you start smiling a little wider and laughing a little freer until oikawa tooru is nothing more than an old name.
and of course there are instances where you are reminded of him and what could've been, whether it's seeing milk bread in a supermarket or passing by children hitting a volleyball over a net out in the sun. you know very well that your friends are occasionally still in contact with their old captain, not that this bothers you. after all, mattsun, makki, and iwa were very careful not to bring him up around you, which you're grateful for. so even hearing the name in passing becomes easier.
it is difficult until it isn't anymore.
you've all but forgotten him now, after years and years and years—nothing more than a distant memory.
so imagine the sinking feeling of dread pooling in your stomach when you walk into the restaurant on makki's birthday and see oikawa tooru sitting at the bar, drink in hand. his eyes are alight as he laughs at whatever conversation he's joined, dark hair falling into his eyes messily.
one step forward, ten steps back.
for a second you can't help but stare, breath stolen from your lungs because it feels like the knife is back and twisting itself into your flesh all over again. there is a panic rising in your throat, suffocating and overwhelming and jarring.
tooru lifts his glass to his lips, hiding his grin as his gaze lazily travels over the expanse of the room.
another surge of panic. the familiar sting of humiliation.
he pauses as he's about to take a sip, brown eyes widening when they land on you, and you see the sharp inhale he takes. his stare doesn't waver, too consumed by shock to look away.
and yet that's all you can do—tear your eyes away because you're different now and it's long gone and you know there is no point in going down that rabbit hole again.
it was a lifetime ago—it's done now.
but you will never know how long tooru thought of you after that night back in high school. you will never know that he felt sick to his stomach when he saw the way your face fell at his rejection. you will never know that he bit his tongue so hard it bled as he watched you walk away from him. you will never know that he spent countless nights in argentina wondering what you were up to and how you were. you will never know that sacrificing you for his beloved sport was the hardest thing he's ever done.
so imagine the sinking feeling of dread tooru feels when he sees the way your eyes light up as you find your way over to iwa's side.
@teddybeartoji this is for you mickey ily hehehehehe
#i was feeling angsty bc i rewatched their match again lmao#and la la land#oikawa x reader#haikyuu x reader#oikawa toru x reader#hq x reader#haikyu x reader#haikyuu angst#oikawa angst#iwaizumi x reader#iwaizumi hajime x reader#haikyu fluff#haikyuu#tooru oikawa x reader#oikawa tooru#tooru oikawa#iwaizumi hajime#hajime iwaizumi#seijoh 4#hanamaki takahiro#matsukawa issei#hq fluff#hq angst#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu x you#haikyu x you#haikyu x y/n#haikyuu x y/n#oikawa fluff#iwaizumi fluff
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jade my lovely, i would kill for more early season spencer and bombshell!reader. i love them sm!! (i also love seeing the mentions of elle, like that’s my bbg)
“You aren’t still mad.”
You take a sip of your coffee and refuse to answer.
Elle rolls her eyes. It’s unrestrained, as is her deep sigh. “Whatever.”
You drink more coffee. Think about it, can’t contain it, “Whatever yourself, Greenaway.”
“I want it just as bad as you do.”
“But I’m better.”
“You’re not better. You’re less likeable, there’s a difference.”
You weren’t surprised when they chose Elle for the open BAU position, but you were gutted nonetheless. Pretending it doesn’t bother you comes easily, just not when she’s rubbing it in your face. “Can you leave that?”
She hands over the stapler she’d been about to put in her cardboard. You don’t own one, and you decide to forgive her when she hands it to you without argument. “You want anything else?”
“No, it’ll just remind me of you.” You sniff.
“At least you’ll have an empty desk beside yours for a while. It’ll be good for your afternoon meditation.”
“Hopefully, they’ll fill your absence with a very attractive new recruit.” You’d like that, a hottie to crush on. Now Elle’s leaving, you’ll have no one to project your fantasies on to make it through the work day. “How will you cope?”
“What, without you?” Elle asks.
“With all the BAU hotties. Everybody on that team is maddeningly attractive,” you say with a put upon swoon, back of your hand curled and thrown to land against your forehead.
“I didn’t realise you felt that way about Jason Gideon. Perhaps if you’d made that known, you’d be packing your desk up instead of me,” Elle laughs.
“Well, maybe not Gideon. But the rest of them. Derek… if you take him seriously, he’s gorgeous. And Hotch–”
“He’s married. And older than us by ten years.”
“He’s handsome, is what he is. So quietly funny and moody. I’m not telling you to ruin his marriage, I’m just saying he’s distracting.”
“And Spencer Reid?” she asks.
You grin. “He’s cute.”
“Morgan said you asked him out for coffee?”
“He wanted to tell me about water bugs.” It was sudden but sweet, he’d started a tangent on how they can walk on water because they’re small and hydrophobic, then asked if you really wanted to know, which you did.
“He’s cute,” Elle says, raising her brows.
“Have you seen him turn to the side? His jawline is ridiculous.”
“He looks a little… dorky,” Elle says finally. She isn’t mean-spirited, just honest about her tastes.
“I like dorks. And I really loved him, he was adorable. Derek’s been hazing him, so maybe you could be nicer? I think he really needs a friend.”
“You don’t want to be that friend?”
You smile. “I do. But I can’t exactly do that from Sex Crimes.”
“Well, you can help me carry my stuff to the BAU. Come on.”
“And look desperately needy? Is there anything worse than going where you’re not wanted?”
“Morgan will be happy to see you. Maybe Dorky Spencer will be there to tend your BAU shaped wounds.”
“You’re heartless, Greenaway.”
You put your arms out obediently for her box. She grabs her jacket and her bag, gives her desk a last sweep, and turns away. It’s the last time she’ll ever sit at her desk in the Sex Crimes Unit, and it’s the most envious you’ve ever been of a friend. You want more than anything to be in her position. Profiling isn’t mythical to you, it’s a science you’ve studied, and you believe you could do it well if they just gave you time to learn on the job like they’ve done for Elle.
But the position is filled. There’s no room left on the team.
No need for a sex crimes expert now they’ve chosen Elle.
You’re going to have to make yourself useful in other ways, or play politics, or, better, make friends.
Hotch likes you, you know that, and Derek’s awesome. Gideon is the one you need to convince, but for some reason he’s totally sworn off of you. Luckily for you, he isn’t out in the BAU office when you enter, it’s just Derek, Spencer Reid, and Elle’s waiting desk.
“Hi boys,” she greets.
Derek turns.
Spencer puts down his book. You meet his eyes.
You’re far more flirty than Elle. “Hi, Derek. Hi, Dr. Reid.”
Derek grins and takes Elle’s box from your arms. “Hi, girls. Happy moving day.”
You don’t really want to talk about it, think about it, or come off as a jealous jerk, so you do a little bit of performance. “What are you reading?” you ask Spencer, pretending to be interested, hoping he’ll throw you a rope. You spot a familiar creature on the cover and your smile legitimises. “Is that about pond skaters?”
“It’s Small Freshwater Creatures,” he says, shy but somehow firm, too. His tone changes as he relays facts. “It’s an identification guide, but it does talk about the specifics.”
“You really like bugs, huh?”
“I wanted to know more about it in case you came back.”
You can’t help grinning. “That's really sweet,” you say earnestly, “did you learn anything new? You sounded like an expert already.”
“They’re predators. They eat mosquito larvae.”
“Oh, awesome, so if we had a few more pond skaters in the world we’d be better off.”
You prop yourself on Spencer’s desk as he begins to rattle of facts and figures. Not too far away, Elle and Derek talk under their breaths.
“Is it me, or is she into him?” Derek asks.
“Maybe more than she realises.” Elle bites back a smile, stealing glances at you from over Derek’s shoulder. You’re more interested in what he has to say than anything she’s seen on you before. You lean in, your eyes bright. A little flirty, ever so slightly teasing, but genuine, too, as Spencer begins a quick spiel.
“Well, he’s a goner,” Derek laughs.
Elle doesn’t know about that. You don’t play with people’s hearts.
There’s a teeny, tiny strand of shyness to you as you touch your neck. You begin rolling the chain links of your necklace along your finger, causing poor Dr. Reid to lose his train of thought. Two people entirely unaware of the road they’re embarking on.
“Do you guys have a stapler?” Elle asks. “I lost mine in the divorce.”
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
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What we’re witnessing online during and in the aftermath of these hurricanes is a group of people desperate to protect the dark, fictitious world they’ve built. Rather than deal with the realities of a warming planet hurling once-in-a-generation storms at them every few weeks, they’d rather malign and threaten meteorologists, who, in their minds, are “nothing but a trained subversive liar programmed to spew stupid shit to support the global warming bullshit,” as one X user put it. It is a strategy designed to silence voices of reason, because those voices threaten to expose the cracks in their current worldview. But their efforts are doomed, futile. As one dispirited meteorologist wrote on X this week, “Murdering meteorologists won’t stop hurricanes.” She followed with: “I can’t believe I just had to type that.” What is clear is that a new framework is needed to describe this fracturing. Misinformation is too technical, too freighted, and, after almost a decade of Trump, too political. Nor does it explain what is really happening, which is nothing less than a cultural assault on any person or institution that operates in reality. If you are a weatherperson, you’re a target. The same goes for journalists, election workers, scientists, doctors, and first responders. These jobs are different, but the thing they share is that they all must attend to and describe the world as it is. This makes them dangerous to people who cannot abide by the agonizing constraints of reality, as well as those who have financial and political interests in keeping up the charade.
I’m Running Out of Ways to Explain How Bad This Is - The Atlantic
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love drunk — miguel o’hara x reader
summary — while miguel deals with a drunk and clingy you, you accidentally let it slip that you love him. requested here
grumpy x sunshine!! spidergirl!reader, no pronouns used but implied fem!reader, grumpy miguel, kind of ditzy reader, drunk reader, established relationship, first ‘I love you’ trope, miguel being lovesick, fluff. so much fluff
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implied fem!reader 1.3k words
Miguel thinks he should never let you drink again in your whole life.
“Y/N,” he says through gritted teeth, irritated now. Actually, he was irritated ten minutes ago but was doing a better job at hiding it. “Come on. Get off me.”
You’re dead weight in his lap. He wouldn’t mind, he likes when you sit on him like this, only you’re in the middle of the bar and there are at least five Peter’s looking his way and smirking, and he can see Hobie Brown laughing at him behind his hand across the room.
“Whyyyyy?” You drawl, your lips slow and your tongue slower. You paw at his chest and give him a glare that’s about as menacing as a puppy. “You’re so mean.”
Miguel sighs heavily. He picks up his hands where they’d been hovering at your sides, unsure whether he should touch you or not when you’re like this, and gets a good grip on your hips.
“C’mon, get up,” he says. He lifts you off his lap with ease, fingers curling around your hips, and deposits you in the booth seat next to him.
To Miguel’s surprise, you don’t flop into his side or try to climb back onto him like he thought you would. Where seconds ago you were like a rag doll, you sit rigid straight.
“What?” He asks you, genuinely confused.
“Sorry,” you say quietly, frowning to yourself. “I didn’t mean that. You’re not mean.”
Miguel blinks at you. “Oh. No, that’s not why I made you get off, sweetheart. I know you don’t actually think I’m mean.”
Slowly, you brighten up like a wind up toy, springing back to life in slow motion with a big smile painting itself across your mouth, all teeth. “Oh, okay. Can I get back on you now?”
Miguel actually laughs. He’s very tempted to say yes, you can sit in his lap as long as you like. He doesn’t, mostly because you’re very obviously past your limit and you need a bed and some water. Neither of which he can get you here.
“You’re funny, cariño,” he tells you, chucking you under the chin with his knuckles. You beam up at him, eyes squinting so much they’re half closed. He indulges himself in a squeezing of your cheek before breaking the news, “No, you can’t get back on me—“ Your face falls, “—But I can take you to bed?”
Your smile comes back so quick it’s alarming, and you nod vehemently. “Yeah, please.”
Miguel manages to get you out of the Spider-Bar (nicknamed by one of the Peter’s, he can’t remember which but Miguel refuses to call it that. It’s just a section off the second floor of Headquarters where Spider-people migrate to drink.) without you tripping over your own feet. He’s discovering you’re a very clumsy, clingy drunk. That, and you really can’t hold your liquor. He’s only had a little less than you and he feels completely fine. Other than the burning in his chest, though he’s pretty sure that has more to do with you and your presence than the alcohol.
He gets you into an elevator and holds you up when you slouch into his side. His arm around your hip and both of your hands clinging like vines to his free arm, tight enough to ache but he can’t bring himself to ask you to loosen your grip a little. He’d be lying if he said he doesn’t enjoy your apparent desperation to stick to him like glue.
The elevator dings and the doors slide open. A gaggle of Spider-Women wait on the other side, Jess among them. The younger girls giggle amongst themselves when they see the predicament they’ve caught their haughty boss in.
“Hey, Miguel,” Jess drawls as she sidles past him, Miguel practically dragging you out of the elevator now and out of the way of the girls. “Hey, Y/N.” She grins at your inebriated state, then looks to Miguel, “Early night?”
It’s almost midnight. Miguel can’t tell if she’s teasing or not. She probably is. “Yeah.”
“Miguel’s taking me to bed,” you pipe up, a lustful tone to your sticky, slurry voice that Miguel winces at. He hadn’t meant it like that. Clearly, your drunk mind had taken it that way. He’ll be sure to set the record straight once you’re safe and alone in his room.
Jess laughs loud. “Right. Well, have fun with that.”
She’s still laughing as the elevator doors slide shut. Miguel sighs. He’s not gonna hear the end of that for at least a week. You tug on his arm and smile up at him sweetly, and he forgets all about it.
“What is it, cariño?” He hums.
“Can you carry me? My feet are sore.”
Miguel indulges you. Partly because you’d asked and he’s yet again been tasked with the challenge of saying no to you (which he fails at every time), and partly because you’re slowing him down and he really wants to get to his room before he meets anyone else. He scoops you up easily, one arm hooked beneath your thighs and the other under your back. You giggle dazedly and hook your arms around his neck tight enough that it’d hurt anyone but Miguel, burying your face in his neck, your flyaway hair tickling his skin.
By the time he gets you to his room you’re half asleep in his arms. He’d let you sleep but your suit is constricting. He deposits you on the bed in the dark and switches on the lamp. He only manages to turn on his heels before you’re grabbing his arm, warm hand wrapping around his wrist with a clumsy desperation.
“Don’t go,” you murmur, eyes half closed.
Miguel pries your hand away gently. “I’m not going anywhere. Just getting your pyjamas.”
You allow it but you make a grab for him as soon as he’s back, hands warm at his waist. He stands in front of you and undresses you out of your spidersuit, then redresses you into the pyjamas you keep in his room. You keep quiet other than the occasional hiccup and despite your amorous comment earlier you don’t try anything, even when you’re completely bare-chested and Miguel is standing over you. While he pulls your shirt over you head, your hands find his hips and grip them like somebody’s trying to take him away from you.
He gives you a glass of water which you skull back like you’re about to die of thirst. He refills the glass and when he comes back you’ve turned the light off and buried yourself under the covers. He thinks you’re asleep until he goes to put the glass on the bedside table and your hand sneaks out of the sheets, reaching for him.
“Miguel…” you murmur, fingers brushing his abdomen. You tilt your head up towards him, searching for him in the dark.
“You okay?” He asks, concerned you’re not feeling well. He hopes you’re not the kind of drunk who throws up everything they drank. Though he can’t say he’d mind looking after you even if you were.
“I’m fine,” you say softly. It’s dark and he can barely see your face but he hears your next words just fine. “Thank you for looking after me … I love you.”
Miguel is so shocked he almost drops the glass of water he’s holding. Sure, he knew you had feelings for him. He knew you care for him about as much as he does for you, which is an inordinate amount. To hear you say it is different. His fondness for you multiplies by about a million and the chasm in his chest feels, not for the first time since he met you, a little bit smaller.
He knows you probably won’t remember it in the morning, but it’s been said and his chest is aflame. He sets the cup down and then crouches next to your lovely, tired face, and cups your cheek. He presses a soft kiss to your temple, and then your lips. Your eyelashes flutter as your eyes fall shut and you smile.
Miguel waits til he’s sure you’re asleep to say it back — vulnerability’s never really been his strong suit. He tucks hair away from your face, feeling a bit drunk himself. Just not from anything he drank. “I love you too, mi amor.”
#★ mal writes!#miguel o’hara blurb#miguel o’hara x y/n#miguel o’hara x you#miguel o’hara#miguel o’hara imagine#miguel o’hara fluff#miguel o’hara x fem!reader#miguel o’hara drabble#miguel o’hara fic#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel ohara#miguel ohara x reader#miguel ohara x you#miguel ohara x y/n#miguel ohara imagine#miguel ohara drabble#miguel ohara x fem!reader#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#atsv miguel x reader#atsv miguel#spiderman 2099#spiderman 2099 x reader#atsv x reader#atsv x you#atsv x y/n
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Imagine an entire bird colony of all male Bird Hybrids where you are their dancing instructor.
Every bird in the colony is absolutely feral over you. They desire you so much to the point where they started taking your class to learn how to woo possible mates but now they only wanna use what they learn on you.
They’ll do the steps wrong on purpose so that they can feel your soft hands on them when you correct it. Wishing you’d slip your hands further down till your thick fingers wrap around their aching cocks. You just smell so good and consume all their senses. Their adorable chirps fill the air whenever you give them any attention, their minds spinning with you.
Sometimes they’ll act like they aren’t getting it no matter what. You all know what’s going on and you’re not too shy to admit you love the attention they give you back. Your panties gushing with arousal as their eyes are trained on your every move.
So you tease them further. Inviting them to grab your hips and feel the way you move into the step, grinding against them every now and then. Loving the way their faces always drop, staring down at your wide hips and round bottom. Their feathers ruffling and wings flapping as they get more turned on. They try not to make it obvious but it makes you so hot to see how deeply you affect them.
By the end of every class all the bird hybrid’s cocks are rock hard and they’re in desperate need of you. They try anything they can think of to get you to stay after class with them. Showering you in affection they now want to drown in you in unimaginable pleasure. Stuffing your tight cunt over and over again with their cocks. Filling you up with all their cum till your belly bulges with it.
You always look so pretty underneath them. Especially as a handful of them always seemed to get you to agree to stay after. One after the other they take you hard, each of them coming inside of you until you’re all fucked out and cum is leaking into a puddle between your thick thighs. Of course they take the best care of you after.
After months of this you had realized that this colony was the only one you were teaching. And the bird hybrids make sure to keep it that way as they fill up all your available slots. Anyone can be competition and they don’t want your attention on another colony. Not that it ever would. You’re more than happy with the affection they constantly show you.
You always have more mating gifts than you know what to do with. Sometimes they give you pretty pebbles or other brightly covered objects. Other times they give you adorable little twigs and materials for a nest you don’t have. But they wanna help take care of you anyway. Then some give you food, wanting to keep your plump body healthy by making sure you’re eating good.
But the feathers that fall off their wings throughout class are your favorite. You put them up on the walls for decoration. The bird hybrids preen whenever they see their feather on the wall, viewing it as their claim on you. They boast to the other birds but then others point out that their feather is up there too and they turn playful as they try and say their feather is longer or fluffier.
Eventually they go to you, thinking that if they can’t prove they’re the better mate through their feathers, they can see which one can make you cum harder. It takes hours for them to come to any sort of agreement as they each use their fingers, tongues, and cocks to make you explode around them long past till you’re seeing stars.
They come from a place of love above all. Wanting to please you, their mate, more than anything. They’d do whatever they could to make that happen as caring for you is what they enjoy most.
I will literally beg for asks about them!! They’ve been a brainrot for me just about all week now. I’d love to see others expand on them and the idea. Or even just to join in the freak out and gush about the fluffy guys together!
#monster fucker#monster lover#monster smut#monster lust#monster romance#exophelia#teratophillia#monster fluff#monster fic#monster imagine#monster bf#monster boyfriend#furry nsft#furry fiction#furry#hybrid furry#hybrid smut#hybrid fic#hybrid creature#bird hybrid#werebird#werecreature#hybrid x reader#x chubby reader#monster x chubby reader#monster x reader#monster x human#monster x y/n#monster x you#monster x fem!reader
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all mine (pt.2)
closeted/in denial abby anderson x reader
pt.1: you told me your new man don’t make you nut, that’s a damn shame.
please click here!
tags: sub!abby, dom!reader, experienced!reader, mentions of owen, tbh trauma from owen, strap-on sex, cunnilingus, 69ing, dry humping, grinding, nonexplicit masturbation, lowkey voyeurism+exhibitionism ish? there’s plot i swear.
A/N: im well aware that i apologize in every post i make and that its redundant, but im still sorry that i took forever to write.
so. some of this may sound a little familiar from the first part, but it’s simply just drawing parallels between abby’s and your stances on one another.
this gets gradually worse and worse. i think the quality started landsliding once i reached the smut. enjoy!
it’s been near ‘round a week later, and abby’s avoiding you like the fucking devil. in fact— by the way she’s been acting, you think she might even believe so. she’s never felt so inexplicably thrown off. clickers, bloaters… couple of well-aimed shots and they’re no deal. but you? the ghost of your touches haunt her day and night. she’s like a woman possessed. and she’s insatiable.
her once weekly visits to the chapel have become daily: hour-long stays spent on her knees, prayers whispered hastily under her breath, eyes darting to paranoically try to catch potential eavesdroppers.
even owen, the air-headed asshole, has been left victim, or perhaps victor, to the effects of your actions. in a desperate attempt to ease her whirling mind, or rather, to ease the painful throbbing between her thighs, abby’s seemed to have turned to her boyfriend as a last ditch effort.
abby’s newfound flood of arousal, pooling and pleading, only to be met by owen’s two incher every night have had his ego blowing up fucking obnoxiously.
“god, abby, you’re fuckin’ desperate for my dick lately,” he’d gloat, hilariously blind to his girlfriend’s infidelity.
unfortunately for abby, her pathetic resorts have done nothing to quiet the moaning mess of guilt-filled memories. if anything, they’ve done quite the opposite.
she’s been left to the mercy of her palm, heel of it digging into her clit while she’s beside the sleeping figure of owen, straining every massive muscle in her body to give her that orgasm she so badly needs.
it’s to no avail, though. stuck gasping and tearing up against a pillow, her poor pussy crying for some semblance of relief. and what’s left is a week-long edged abby anderson, ms. “top soldier”, who’s back to shooting no better than a freshly new recruit.
what’s up with that, hm?
~
2am now, in the isolated west dormitory’s showers, and abby’s at it again. her body starving for your touch; your sinful, corrupting, addictive touch, and she’s failing to appease her needs once more.
“mmph- fuck, ah-please,” abby begs into her forearm, groaning as two thick fingers plunge deep into her sopping hole, thrusting in and out messily.
it’s exhausting to fuck the way you do. even with her arms the impressive size they are, it’s impossibly demanding to reach every nerve you had reached, filthy sounds echoing along the tile walls, taunting her.
abby knows what’s coming, or really, the lack of it.
skin pink from the heat of the water, she abandons her effort, shutting the stream off with a squeak and ventures the locker room to get dressed for the night.
her mind wanders to you— that’s all it ever seems to do as of recently, and she thinks about how she almost misses your antics. she can’t place her finger on what it is exactly about you that makes her chase every teasing interaction so masochistically.
maybe it’s your lopsided smile that lures her in, or that glint in your eye she gets caught up in. or maybe it’s just that she knows she shouldn’t want you, and it’s so deliciously wrong, and that’s why she’s got to have you.
towel flung over her shoulder, abby makes her way out, only to stop in her tracks when she hears the loud slam of a locker door.
what the fuck? wasn’t the bathroom empty when she last checked??
cheeks burning at the mistaking of her privacy, she swivels the corner, furious to see who the fuck else is using the west dorm showers at this hour. of all the hours.
and, well, abby’s frozen in place when she’s met with the sight of a mystery someone’s bare back. but oh, how she recognizes you, you and your wet hair, slinging droplets down your smooth skin, trailing lower and lower and-
you cough, breaking her trance. baby blue eyes dart up, caught, as you slide your tank on, smirking.
“hey, anderson.”
that just about does it for her. abby slams an open locker door shut, almost sprinting out of the room.
and really, there’s no choice but for you to follow her, practically hunting her down as she sharply turns down random hallways, clearly attempting to outrun you. abby makes a wrong turn soon enough, and you honestly think you might burst out into laughter because of the funny way fate seems to string the two of you together.
the blonde’s backed herself into a corner, and it just so happens to be your residential corner. you can’t help but wonder if she already knew where your room was located.
“scared, anderson?” slips out of your mouth, and it feels significant, reminiscent of the week before. you stare her down, wet strands clinging to her skin to match yours, and it’s like the two of you know what’s to come with your words. the inevitable.
you’re not sure which one of you moves first, rubber band of tension snapping as your lips collide in a catastrophic sort of way. you’re scrambling to blindly dial your dorm code in and tugging abby by her shirt in a tangle of limbs and saliva.
“i’ll play nice,” you pant, “even after that disappearing stunt you pulled last week.”
abby laughs, whispering, “whoops,” under her breath before pulling you in for another dizzying kiss, tongue eagerly curling into your mouth like she’s been waiting years for a taste.
you wrap your fingers around her hair with a tug, and the low groan that escapes from the back of abby’s throat has you repeating the motion again and again as you veer her backwards to fall atop your bed. you follow, straddling her, not wanting to spend a second apart from the fucking drug that her mouth is.
your hips grind down on their own, burning and desperate for stimulation. abby, in return, wraps a strong hand around your throat, pulling you even deeper into a sloppy kiss to swallow your moans as she pushes her hips up to meet yours.
“fuck,” you gasp, clit catching against the seam of your shorts with every roll.
abby’s mind has gone blurry with arousal, drunk off the satisfaction of finally getting what her body’s begged for. every pretty noise that slips out of your mouth sends pulses of pleasure straight through her bundle of nerves, and every touch of skin has her feeling set ablaze.
but as always, she needs more.
she maneuvers you easily under her big frame, your head tipping back in a soft whine as she latches herself onto your throat, biting and soothing your skin over.
she’s lodged a leg in between your own, mimicking your position as she wildly bucks her hips down onto you. “please,” she breathes out, tears welling in her eyes with how foreign this feeling is. she can’t bring herself to care about how needy she’s acting, because to starve, is to take anything.
“just like that, baby, you’re soaking my thigh,” you coo, continuing to dry hump her leg like she’s nothing but a toy to you. the whimper she lets out at the name you call her is downright criminal, and the way her movements pick up have you groaning it out again. “c’mon baby, make a mess of yourself for me,” you grab her meaty hips, grinding her harder down against you.
“gonna-“ she gasps into your neck, before shuddering against you as she cums with a cry, muscular thighs holding you so desperately tight in place. you almost scream, caught in the iron grip she has your body in, stopped so close to your own finish. you dig your nails into the flesh of abby’s hips, hearing her moan as the pain mixes with pleasure, and echo the sound yourself as the burning in your core starts up again.
“just let me, for a minute- i need you- just stay here, shit,” you ramble, gripping her hair for leverage while you fuck yourself faster against her thigh.
every twitch of a muscle beneath your soaked pussy has you reeling, unable to wrap your mind around what a massive fucking crime it is, for another woman not to have experienced the absolute blessing it is to have abby anderson’s defined-ass thigh to grind on.
you glance down at abby, and the fucked-out expression she has on, all watery doe-eyed as she peers up at you, mesmerized, has you throbbing enough to match your heart rate.
curse after curse flies out of your mouth as she attaches her mouth to your neck again, biting down as you let go of that coil tugging on your navel.
abby’s no sooner clambering atop you, diving in to taste your sounds as she scoops you onto her lap, practically growling, “fuckin�� get over here,” under her breath.
as your vision returns, she attacks your mouth with a sloppy kiss, colliding teeth, and you’re unbearably hungry for more.
“let me- i’m gonna taste you,” you breath out, shoving abby’s back down with a push.
she falls back with a soft thud, eyes not leaving you once. “please, fuck- taste me, have me,” abby affirms, scrambling to tug her shorts off.
the massive soaked patch at the center her boxers have your eyes rolling into your skull. “shit, anderson,” you run a finger over her clothed slit, giggling as she jerks her hips up.
“shut up,” she rasps, her words harsh, but the small smile on her face says otherwise.
you grin up at her, “didn’t say anything,” before licking a fat stripe up her covered pussy.
her response is immediate, hands fisting into your hair to pull your mouth closer, actions the epitome of more, more, more.
you flatten your tongue, licking, and meshing her arousal with your saliva to entirely soak her boxers wet. you wrap your lips around where you guess to be her clit, based off the place her legs tremble when your tongue reaches it, and suck hard.
“there,” abby whines out, back flying off the mattress, and you’re so very desperate to see what other fun reactions she has in store for you, you grab at her waistband to unveil her pretty dripping pussy.
up close, face to face, you get to really admire the work of art she is. the divets of muscle adorning her thighs frame her pussy almost in a greek-goddess sort of way. light brownish-blonde curls of hair that reach out to your mouth, trying to pull you in closer. she’s beautiful. you’re in complete control of her right now, and holding the reins of such an unreal being has you groaning into her slick eagerly, hands holding her spread wide open while you feast.
you’re dipping your tongue into her sopping mess, teasing and thrusting, feeling her gummy walls flutter around every brush of the muscle. you dart a thumb up to circle her puffy clit, red, from her earlier actions, and the way abby’s legs kick up— almost hitting you in the face, has you giggling again into her pussy. the vibrations of your laugh make abby squeal, thighs clamping around your head, and then she’s tugging at your hair, chanting, “stopstopstopstop,” and you, of course, oblige immediately.
your face comes up covered in her wetness, arousal dripping from your chin as you lick your lips in an halfhearted attempt to clean yourself up. “sorry, sorry, i- did you want me to stop?” you ramble, concerned that you might’ve gone a little too far this time, getting yourself involved with a taken straight girl.
abby’s face flushes a deep red, even darker than it had been from your actions, as she catches her breath and looks away. “no, i- can you, uhm.”
you catch on to her hesitation, newer to sex thats more than just, well, dick. you rub her calves soothingly, “use your words, baby, you got it.”
she visibly gulps, thighs pressing tight around your body, “can i?” she asks, almost sulkily as her hands move to tug at your shorts.
“oh-!” slips out of your mouth, surprised, “yeah, yeah you can.”
she lets out a soft okay, tugging harder now, slipping her calloused fingers under your waistband as well so as to drag both down together. abby’s groans, low and heady, at the sight of your glistening pussy, practically dripping down your thighs from just getting her off. “this too,” she murmurs, sliding your tank off before you can blink.
she’s pulling you in closer, as if she’s in a trance, as she wraps her lips hesitantly around one of your perked nipples. the high-pitched sigh you let out is more than enough encouragement for her to continue, warm tongue flicking at it as she sucks around your breast. “is this okay?” she pulls away to whisper, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear as she looks up at you, eyes wide.
“fuck- yes, just,” you push her head back in, her lips abiding immediately as they gently pull at your nipple, teeth grazing the most sensitive parts of your chest as you arch your back into it, quiet moans ringing in her air.
all of a sudden you’re being turned around, confused, until your hips are being lifted up towards abby’s stuck-out tongue and you’re shaking with your face pressed to her thigh while she experimentally kitten-licks around your hole, unknowingly teasing you.
her nose brushes ever-so-slightly over your pulsing clit as her tongue passes just over your dripping mess, and it has you crying out, “there, please- right there, please,” breath hot over her own throbbing pussy.
her hips jerk up at the sensation, and you take the hint— latching your lips around her own clit and stuffing two fingers easily into her hole, moaning at the feeling of her squeezing tight around you.
it’s no wonder abby’s the top soldier of wlf. for a girl who’s only ever been with the most lacking, vanilla man ever, she picks up fast. each action of yours is borderline self-serving, with the way abby’s mimicking every move not even a moment after, so adorably eager to please.
abby had this insistent need to pull every pretty sound from you, whether she got it through grazing her teeth against your clit, or curling a thick finger against your g-spot, she was determined to hear it— to the point where you thought she might’ve even needed it. and it’s what made sex with her so intoxicating.
she wasn’t like any of the other girls you typically hooked up with, and that’s not to say the girls you usually got with were bad to fuck… they just weren’t as invested in your pleasure as you were with theirs. and as the type to get off on giving rather than receiving, this was especially new. you’ve never been with someone like you. and god, does it take the cake.
abby’s really coming to terms with all the ways she can use her especially large everythings to make you feel good, murmuring into your pussy, “‘m fuckin’ splitting you open with my fingers, pretty,” as she pushes in a third finger to your sopping hole, relishing in the squelch that comes with the thrust.
your thighs shake around her head, stimulated beyond compare as you continue your ministrations on abby’s pussy, humming mhms into it to encourage more of her bolder ventures.
“mm-fuck, can feel you choking my fingers. you gonna cum, hm?” she mumbles cockily, the high from your reactions sending her mind into a frenzy.
“shit, please, need it so bad,” you croak out, taking only mere seconds apart from tonguing down her puffy clit.
“ah- god, me too, pretty. cum on my tongue,” she says, and the fucking vulgarity of it, so downright shocking to hear from ms. straight christian prude over here, has you riding your orgasm out, trembling heat overtaking your body like a california wildfire. matched moans come from beneath you, as abby’s hips fuck up against your mouth, legs flexing deliciously as the two of you reach your peaks together, the world slowing.
you slide your body off of hers, turning around to be met with a sight to behold. your cum, all over abby’s mouth, shining on the tip of her nose, remnants leaked onto her chin— and you have not a doubt you look the same mess. you yank her into a sloppy kiss, fluids mixing in your mouths in the most animalistic nature.
“i’m not done with you,” you say, eyebrows scrunched as you take in her fucked-out expression.
“i know,” she whispers, “give me more,” she breathes out.
abby slips out of her tank, finally, using the cloth to gently wipe your face and hers, action a bit too intimate for what you guys have, but neither of you decide to call out on it.
“you gonna let me fuck you?” you ask quietly, running a hand over her chest softly, enamored, as abby shivers from your words.
“please fuck me,” she whimpers, tone all pouty and petulant as she watches your hand trace ambiguous shapes over her skin.
“so polite,” you tease lightly, pulling her in for a brief kiss before reaching over to your bedside drawer and pulling out your favorite strap, just the one for the special girl in front of you.
8 inches, hot pink, with a slight curve to it, but most importantly, never been used on anyone other than yourself, by yourself.
“it’s so-“ she stutters nervously, thighs rubbing together in anticipation as you secure the toy onto your hips.
“pretty?” you finish, unable to help your laugh as she looks at you, so clearly not thinking of your response.
“yeah,” she shrugs, “suppose it is.”
it’s quiet in the room as you finish latching the silicone dick onto yourself, the two of you settling into the weight of your impulse-fueled actions.
you gently pull open her closed legs, settling yourself between them as you tease her entrance with the tip of the toy, covering it with her cum. you then spit down onto it, twisting your hand around to coat, and hear abby ask, “what’re you doing?”
you continue to prep the toy with easy motions, committed by memory, “i know you’re soaked, anderson, but it’s still a dick you’re taking, baby.”
“i just mean- i, you know,”
you hum, “owen doesn’t put in the effort, huh? and i bet you’re not even a quarter as wet for him as you are for me,” scoffing.
“don’t-“
“it’s the truth though, isn’t it?”
“…yeah.”
“that’s what i thought.”
you thumb her clit in circles, using her slick as lube to rub over it smoothly, relishing in the way abby’s head falls back and her hips jolt up. “that’s it, ease up for me,” you murmur.
you prod again at her entrance with the toy, sliding the tip in slightly as she hisses, “‘m sti-still sensitive.”
“and you’re gonna take it like the fuckin’ slut you are, anderson, aren’t you?” you tsk, pushing a couple inches more into her.
“shit- yes, yes ma’am,” she whimpers out, legs threatening to close from the new stretch.
“because even after all that time in the shower, nothing can fill you like i do,” you finish, thrusting the full length of you into her tight pussy, abby nodding repeatedly as her back arches up.
her moans pick up alongside your hips, voice breaking with every thrust as you push into that one sensitive spot deep inside with obvious expertise.
“so, s-so go-od,” she cries, hands gripping into the bedsheets as she searches for some tie back to reality.
you smirk satisfactorily, fast pace fueled by the sight of abby’s open mouth, drool spilling out the sides as her voice grows hoarse from constant use. you fuck her hard, strength channeled from the anger you bore against her homophobic attitudes, and jealousy you garnered towards owen and his idiotic male self.
you lock your eyes with abby, sweat dripping down your face as you zero down on her, slamming into her pussy with no reprieve. “no more owen,” you say, each word punctuated by another deep thrust.
“this is so wrong, this is so fucked,” abby rambles, nervous eyes darting around the room so as to avoid your gaze. her eyebrows are tugged together, head shaking no: but no to argue your words, or no to agree with them?
“has something so wrong ever felt so good?” you pant out, “tell me baby.”
“i can’t, i can’t, i can’t,” she repeats, torn between what felt right in her head, and what felt so right in her heart. “turn me over,” she babbled, not wanting to head-on face the fucking sin-filled act she was committing.
“you tried running, baby. and how’d that work for you?” you ask, fed up. “you’re still back here, a fucking mess, and all for me.”
“what’s it gonna take for you to face the fact that you’re getting fucked by a girl, and it’s so much better than anything you’ve ever experienced?”
abby’s eyes scrunch tight, trying to tune you out, but her moans still wrench out from the back of her throat, guttural and unstoppable.
you slide out finally, earning you a soft whine of disagreement, toy dripping with her slick with the tip pressed against her folds. “look at me, abby.”
and fuck. she’s never taken notice to the fact that you’ve never said her name before—but god does it sound so pretty coming out of your mouth. and god is it enough to make her wrestle her eyelids open and stare you dead in the eyes, blue clashing with the darkness you reeked in.
“say that again,” she whispers, look full of pleading. 4 letters, 2 syllables, but it has her core tensing and her heart racing a mile.
“tell me you’re mine, abby,” you breath, and she almost finishes right there and then.
“i’m yours,” she says, a single tear breaking free from her right eye, baptizing her skin, absolving her of guilt.
“good,” you choke out, bottoming entirely into her as she releases a cry. your movements quicken, ravenous, chasing the sweet whines that fill the room.
abby’s tits bounce with each thrust, and you reach down to give her sensitive nipples a pinch, making her reach an all time new height of pleasure. her chest heaves, curses slur, as she squirms under your touch, nearing an unbearably overstimulated state.
“feels- gonna cum,” she moans, barely holding on.
“cum for me,” you demand, needing to see her fall apart now more than ever as you pound into her harder, fingers rubbing harsh circles into her clit.
“s-shit,” she gasps, throwing her head back as her walls tighten around the toy, “‘m- fuck, god- fuck! ‘m cumming!”
loud squelching noises overtake the room, complete with the sight of abby writhing beneath you as spurts of her juices drench your moving cock.
her chest heaves, mouth open in a silent scream as she comes down from her high, squirming with overstimulation.
you can see the moment her brain clicks, panic in her eyes clear as her skin turns pasty white.
“i’m so sorry i didn’t mean to do that i don’t know how-“
“abby.”
“-that happened ive never done that before, like who-“
“abby.”
“-fucking pisses on someone like that i’m so sorry ill clean it-“
“ABBY.”
her eyes shoot up to meet yours, frame cowering as she mumbles a quiet apology again, so obviously uneducated in the realm of half-decent orgasms.
“you squirted, abby, you didn’t piss on me for christ’s sake. it was hot. now don’t worry about it, i’m very honored,” you chide lightly, cradling abby’s heated face in your hand.
you stand up, grabbing a clean towel and wetting it with warm water from your kettle. striding over, you spread abby’s legs lightly, running the towel gently over her worked-out center, breath hitching, hips jerking with your touch.
“why are you- you don’t have to-“ abby stutters, grabbing your wrist.
you pause, confused. “abby, i’m not a fucking dick, contrary to belief,” you scoff.
she doesn’t let go. “no that’s not what i- i didn’t mean it like that, it’s just, you know.” she waits for you to look up at her, before looking away. “you don’t have to fuss over me.”
a laugh bubbles out of you before you can stop it. “you mean owen doesn’t-? yeah, who am i kidding, of fucking course he doesn’t ‘do aftercare,’ god, what a dick!” you groan, facepalming.
“abby, baby, this is fucking normal. owen just sucks,” you smirk, her cheeks flushing at your words. “let me take care of you,” you continue more softly, nudging her grip off as you drag the towel over her sternum next, cleaning off any remnants left from the two of you.
abby’s quiet now, eyes following your every movement, curious almost, a bit hesitant— as if she’s not sure what to do with herself in the meanwhile. she’s stiff to the touch, frame shrunken now due to the sheer vulnerability of it all. bare as the day she was born, and touched like she’s never done wrong a minute in her life.
she doesn’t know how to feel about it. wisps of hair tickle her nose, and so she scratches it, pushing her hair away, tugging it behind her ears. and you’re right there on it, wordlessly turning her around as you begin to comb through her hair loosely, pulling it into a simple braid. the same hairstyle she displays everyday, always done by her own hand: tight, knot-free, and burning into her scalp. a reminder to remain true to her virtues, live by strict rules, and not stray from the lord’s path.
but the way you braid is so different. you’re careful to tie in the tickling wisps, but not harsh. effective, but not pushing. with owen she feels like an accessory, but you make her feel like someone worth worshipping. and so, the only burning she feels is not on her scalp, but behind her eyes.
you do notice the subtle tremble in abby’s shoulders, droplets trickling down her cheeks as you weave her hair through, but you make no comment on it. certainly not with the way your own hands fumble her golden strands, fingers shaking into the knots. you tie the end of it up.
“i should go,” abby whispers, standing to grab her scattered clothes.
you remain seated, mouth opening and closing like a fish, as your lips struggle to wrap around the words your heart is singing out for.
you settle on one.
“stay,” you blurt, louder than you intended, the word ringing in the tense air.
abby freezes, hand outstretched towards her tossed shirt. her head edged just the slightest bit towards you, like subconsciously, she was waiting for you to say something.
“just- stay,” you whisper this time, more unsure. waiting for the rejection you know is to come. and while your brain is screaming for you to let her go, your eyes are hooked onto abby’s figure— searching intently for the smallest signal of her response.
you see her breath catch in her throat.
“okay,” she whispers back, and her head turns just enough for your gazes to lock, matched desperation surging.
she’s drawn back to the bed like a magnet pulled to its twin, the mattress dipping as she settles in the space beside you.
and abby feels the heat of your drilling stare, one she refuses to return. she has no more fire left in her, not for you, just contemplation. a longing for more, an urge to savor, an ache to feel.
so abby faces the door, and you face her back, waiting for the day she’ll turn around.
so what did we think guys?!?? this was 4.7k words. crazy.
ok. so notice the tear coming from her right eye during that whole end part of the sex. note that it came from her RIGHT eye. scientifically speaking, that’s a tear of joy. BOOOOOOM MIC DROP.
i, unfortunately, shot for the stars and tried to make this deeper. hard to do that when you’re not in touch with your emotions. so now you guys are stuck being confused. good luck!
anyways. the final scene is supposed to represent where they metaphorically stand in their relationship. reader is trying to bond with abby, or at least making an effort to, hence her facing abby. abby can’t come to terms with all this, but she’s trying! she’s not fully accepted the homosexual part of herself though, the side that comes out with reader, so she’s facing the door. FACING IT, not leaving through it. ;)
also, yes, owen goes in dry. it’s canon. do not come at me.
taglist:
@pricefieldsuperiority @heartlexs @graviewaviee @liaphrodite @k1ngpin42 @deadbolted @be3flow3r @mrsabbyanderson
@rob1nbuckl3ys @vivispace @bookpagecandlescent
@thelosstvalkyrie for photo creds ty baby <3
#Spotify#wlw#lesbian#tlou#ellie williams#tlou2#the last of us#abby anderson#smut#ellie tlou#abby anderson imagine#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson tlou2#sub abby#abby x you#abby smut#abby the last of us#abby tlou#abby x reader#abby anderson the last of us 2#abby anderson photomode#abby anderson fan fiction#abby anderson smut#abby anderson fic#abby angst#abby anderson headcanons#tlou x reader#the last of us part two#the last of us smut#tlou smut
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OH!!!! or san/wooyoung after they go on one of those shows where they play with and take care of kids …. later that night they’ve got your with your knees to your chest, damn near sobbing and begging to put a baby in you
well. I went a little bit feral.
"S-Sannie," you gasp out. "San. Slow down."
San punches out a whine like the thought alone upsets him. His grip on the pillows next to your head tightens and loosens, and he gives you one strong thrust as if to physically disagree. You moan, long and loud, San somehow folding you over even more to press his face to your neck.
"Can't," he whimpers, one of his hands leaving the sheets beside you to run along your entire body, fingers twitching over your skin. "Can't, sweetheart... please, need to fill you up. Wanna give you a baby. Please."
You gulp and San resumes his regular, brutal pace, your nails clawing at his back while his cock slides against your walls deliciously. He'd mentioned today's schedule -- a variety show with kids -- a couple weeks ago, and you'd been excited to hear about it, but you never would have expected this.
"San --"
"Don't you want me to?" He asks, pulling out of your neck to look at you. His eyes are bleary and full of tears, and the unshed shine in his eyes makes you clench around him. "Fuck, don't you want me to fill you up?"
You can't even think anymore. You feel insane, feverish, nodding immediately: "I do, please, Sannie, give me a baby."
He sobs, pushing harder and faster into you even still. Desperate for release, even more desperate to give you what you begged for -- what you both want. He splits you open, a hand finding its way in between you to rub at your clit.
"Gonna give it to you, honey," San pants, but your focus is slipping. You think you're drooling -- then again, he is too. "Gonna give you everything."
#i have to have like a situational breeding kink becuase This is just .#hi Sannie i will give u however many children u Want even if its in the double digits#🦌.txt#🦌 answers#ateez smut#ateez x reader#ateez imagines#ateez san x reader#ateez san smut#ateez san imagine#choi san smut#choi san x reader#choi san imagine#san x reader#san smut#san imagine
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oh, the idea of satoru attempting to get his hands on you numerous times throughout the day but keeps getting interrupted (bc y’know, he’s a busy sorcerer) and then finally snapping because he’s so pent up that he can’t think about anything other than fucking you makes me giggle.
smut under the cut. MDNI. also, barely proof-read so sorry for mistakes lol.
----
You squeal with excitement when you hear the door to the apartment unlock. Satoru was home. Finally, he was back after spending two weeks away on business. The moment you see just a glimpse of his white hair, you rush towards him and wrap him in a tight hug, him lowering his Infinity just in time to scoop you off of your feet. You're hit with the scent of his cologne, the feel of his soft hair underneath your fingers, and you sigh in relief. Finally.
“Hey, pretty girl,” he greets with his usual smirk as your legs wrap around his waist. “Miss me?”
He kisses you before you can respond, so you settle for humming into his mouth. He walks you both over to the living room, gently setting you on the couch before climbing on top of you. Your hands fumble with his jacket, and he helps you out by taking it off. He breaks away from your mouth to start doting messy kisses down your neck and collarbone. “Mmm, fuck. Missed you too,” he says, his voice deep with lust. “Been wanting this for so long, baby.”
His phone vibrates, and he ignores it, deciding to focus on pulling your shirt up instead. When it continuously vibrates with multiple calls, he sighs irritatedly and pulls it from his pocket to see Yaga’s name on the screen.
You giggle from underneath him, pulling your shirt back down and sitting up. “I think you should get that.”
“This isn’t over,” he promises. He gets up and answers the phone, holding it up to his ear. “This better be important. …Huh?! I just got back from a mission, what the hell do you mean the higher-ups want to talk?!”
— — — —
“Alright, you all. That’s it for today,” you conclude your lesson with a clap, and the second years begin to gather their things. “Geto will meet you all in the field so you can have a lesson that’s a bit more active. Have fun!”
They all express their excitement, then make their way outside of the classroom. They pass Satoru on the way out, who had just arrived only a few minutes before the end of your lesson. “Yeah, yeah, what she said. Hey, Okkotsu!”
“Yes?” Yuta calls back.
“Remember to—”
“Work on that cursed energy control. Yeah, I got it,” the boy groans.
You shake your head with a tiny laugh as Satoru shuts the door to the classroom. “I swear, Yuta is trying his best. He’s— Whoa!”
Your back suddenly hits the wall, and Satoru is in front of you. His blindfold is raised, and you see the utter hunger pooling in his blue eyes before he’s kissing you, similar to the way he did that morning. You moan into his mouth, and your arms come up to wrap around his neck. “Mmm, fuck. T-Toru, we’re—”
“Shhhhh,” he hushes against your lips. “Didn’t I tell you that this wasn’t over?” His hand begins to trail further down your body, eager fingers hurriedly unbuttoning your jeans. “Just try to be as quiet as possible, baby. I’ll be quick. Gonna make you feel so good—”
He’s cut off with a knock at the door. “Gojo, are you in here?”
Nanami.
“Busy!” He yells, a bit on the harsher side.
“You’re with [Y/L/N] right now. Her lesson with the second years just ended. You do know that around this time, you’re supposed to be training the first years, right?”
Satoru looks at the clock at the wall, then winces. It’s true, but still, he desperately needed you, otherwise he thought that he’d explode. “Just tell them I’m—”
“Can’t. They’re right here with me,” Kento says flatly. “They’ve been waiting for at least half an hour.”
You hear Yuuji’s excited voice next. “Hey, Gojo-sensei! How was your mission?!”
“Itadori, no need to shout. Seriously, we’re all right here,” Megumi grumbles.
“I’m with Fushiguro on this one,” Nobara comments.
Satoru groans into your shoulder, and his fist hits the wall. Unable to take his strength, it caves, leaving a nice-sized hole next to the chalkboard. You stifle a laugh. Thank goodness that this wasn’t your classroom and you were only borrowing it.
He inhales sharply, then masks his annoyance and sexual frustration with a smile. “Alright! Be out in a second!” He calls out to them.
He sees you laughing into your hand, and he leans forward to whisper in your ear, “Just wait ‘till later.”
— — — —
‘Later’ was far later than Satoru had hoped. After training the first years, Yaga talked to him about the next exchange event and how they were behind on planning, and then he had to shadow the second years on a mission that lasted what felt like forever.
You’re back in the apartment, humming as you finish tidying up the living room. You grab the basket of laundry, sit down, and begin folding towels. It was close to eight in the evening. You’re about to grab your phone to check on Satoru when you hear the door opening.
“Ah, there you are. I was beginning to think that I’d have to come and help out,” you say without looking up. “I mean, yeah, the curse was lower-ranked, but sometimes the second years—” You cut yourself off with a surprised scream as Satoru effortlessly hoists you with one arm, puts you over his shoulder and walks in the direction of your bedroom. Once you’re in there, he lightly tosses you on the bed, then yanks off his blindfold. His eyes are dark with a mixture of the hunger you saw earlier, and frustration.
“No more bullshit,” he says as he climbs over you, gathering your wrists and pinning them above your head. “If someone else interrupts, I might just hollow purple them.” When he kisses you, it’s far more intense than he’s ever kissed you today. His tongue explores your mouth, and you moan from the dizzying, yet pleasurable sensation. It’s not long before you’re both panting. His hands grip your shirt, and the sound of fabric tearing fills your ears. You gasp, your mouth falling open in shock when the scraps of your shirt as well as your bra are tossed aside.
Satoru is breathing hard above you, nearly drooling as he stares at your upper body, his white hair beautifully framing his face. He dives in and sucks one of your nipples into his mouth. Your back arches off of the bed when you feel his tongue swirl around the sensitive bud, and you whine his name needily. He moans, alternating between using his teeth to leave gentle love bites on your tits and using his tongue on your nipples. It’s messy, greedy, and you don’t ever want it to stop.
Finally, he kisses further down your stomach, pulling down your leggings along with your panties and tossing them to the bedroom floor. He spreads your thighs, then licks a long stripe up your pussy, a loud, shameless groan of relief escaping him when he finally tastes you. “Oh, fuck, I’ve missed you so much, baby,” he sighs, and he smiles devilishly up at you as he readjusts his hold on your thighs. “Think this pussy missed me just as much, if not more. She’s fucking soaked.”
He only gives you a split second to take a breath to prepare yourself, then he’s devouring you as if he were poisoned and the antidote was inside of your pussy. His tongue swipes expertly across your folds, then it flicks against your clit. You bury your hands into your hair as pleasure zips through your body, the rest of the world fading away until all that’s left is you and Satoru. “Toru- Ohhhhh shit, baby. Fuck-” You gasp desperately when he gently sucks your clit into his mouth. He’s moaning loudly, drunk off of the taste of your pussy and from the feeling of you pulling his hair.
You grind your hips against his face when you feel a knot beginning to form in your lower stomach, your breath stuttering as it tightens. You knew that this orgasm was going to blow any orgasm you gave yourself during the last two weeks while he was away on business completely out of the water. “Fuck, ‘m gonna cum,” you manage to tell him in between pants. “Oh, god, Toru, right there, right there, right there-” You feel your body begin to clench, ready to release.
But then, Satoru stops.
You whine frustratedly as your orgasm fades away before you could reach it, looking down at your boyfriend in between your thighs, who’s smiling deviously. “That was for laughing at me earlier,” he says after licking the rest of your juices off of his lips. “Not so funny now, is it?””
On a normal day, you’d be stubborn and attempt to piss him off, but today was different. Your head rests on the pillow, and your chest rises and falls with every pant, groaning in defeat. “Satoru, please,” you beg, keeping your voice as low as possible so he doesn’t hear the utter desperation.
Satoru feigns confusion, and you see the pure delight in his eyes. Little shit. “Sorry, baby, what was that?” he asks.
“Please,” you repeat louder. “Make me cum.”
He hums as he pulls off his shirt. “I’ll think about it.” He stands up, and you sit up to help him with his pants, eager to taste him and take his cock down your throat. You pull his underwear down, and he stops you when he catches onto what you’re doing. “Another time, baby. Right now, I just really need to fuck you.” He kisses you once, and you moan at the taste of yourself on his lips. “It’s been too long. Lay back.”
You lie back on the mattress, and he grabs your legs to gently pull you towards the edge of the bed, then places them on his shoulders. He slides his cock in, and the both of you moan in relief. Satoru doesn’t waste any time and starts fucking you fast, which you two needed. Being separated for two weeks on top of the usual stress of missions and teaching was horrible for you both. “Ohhhh, fuck,” Satoru moans loudly, not caring if anyone else heard, his eyes practically rolling into his head from the pleasure. “Shit, baby, you feel so fucking good.”
He slows the speed of his thrusts, but intensifies them by going harder, the salacious sounds of his hips meeting yours filling the room. Satoru looks down at you, taking in the o-shape of your mouth, your closed eyes and the way you're gripping the bedsheets as you whimper his name. He has to bite the inside of his mouth so he doesn’t cum too quickly.
“Sat- Satoru,” you moan out deliriously as you open your eyes, gasping when his cock perfectly hits your g-spot. “Fuck, you’re- Ah- so deep.” Tears blur your vision, and your boyfriend chuckles as he leans down closer to you, his thrusts relentless. Satoru kisses your cheek, then uses a thumb to wipe away a tear.
“Aw,” he coos condescendingly into your ear. “You cryin’?”
Your nails drag down his back, and he reaches in between where your bodies are connected to rub gentle circles on your clit. You feel that knot begin to form again, far more intense than before since you were edged earlier. “F-Fuck, Toru, I-” You’re cut off when his mouth meets yours for another messy kiss. He continues rubbing your clit, and you whimper behind his lips. He groans when your pussy begins to tighten around his cock. You grip his shoulders to steady yourself as your breathing begins to come out in short bursts.
“Let go, baby, it’s okay,” Satoru purrs into your ear. “Cum for me. Let me feel you.”
Your legs tense, your toes curl, and stars fill your vision as your orgasm takes you by force. You’re screaming his name as your body trembles, and Satoru murmurs encouragement into your ear as he fucks you through it. “Thaaaat’s it, pretty girl,” you hear, then he groans, also so close to finishing, his thrusts growing sloppy. “Fuck, baby...”
Though you’re dizzy from your orgasm, you muster enough focus to kiss him. You stroke his face, lovingly run a hand through his hair, then wrap your legs around his waist to bring him in even closer, encouraging him to give everything to you. You wanted him to cum—needed him to. The kiss and the faint pulsing of your pussy pushes him over the edge, and Satoru moans loudly into your mouth as he stills, spilling his thick load deep within you and coating your walls. He cums hard, his grip on you tightening as he breathes heavily. Finally, he collapses, but is careful not to crush you with his weight.
Both of you are silent for a moment, remaining with each other as you mellow in the aftershocks of your orgasms. “Shit,” Satoru breathes out with a small laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever cum that hard before. I thought I blacked out for a second.”
You laugh with him, then press a kiss to his forehead. “Welcome home.”
“Happy to be back. Missed you like crazy. Can’t believe I had to wait all day for that.”
“Missed you too, and same here, but you gotta admit, it was funny.”
Satoru tenderly smiles down at you, and your heart stutters at the sight of it. You were always weak for that specific smile. “It was, but, uh… you wanna know something else that might be funny?”
“Hm?”
“We broke the bed.”
“....What?”
----
a/n: I just had to add "the" line lol. I couldn't resist.
#jjk x reader smut#gojo smut#gojo x reader smut#satoru smut#satoru x you#satoru gojo x reader#written by rey <3#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#my writing#gojo x reader#satoru gojo smut#gojo x you#gojo satoru smut#gojo imagine#satoru imagine#sorry y'all I was horknee af
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tashi in the mix to this "teach me" verse hold on because..... tashi teaching you how to move your hips on a mans cock to make him crazy, on art because patrick would try to slip his tip in 😒,,,, hands on your hips, guiding you, you can feel her nipples on your back as she helps you rock back and forth over his dick.... art slipping and sliding through your slick folds, moaning when tashi turns your head to lick into your mou- i have another idea for patrick ill be back
hiiiii 🫶🩷
Rating: E (18+)
Warnings: SMUT (f!recieving oral, grinding, orgasm denial)
A/N: Your mind amazes me so bad it’s crazy. Patrick’s part is gonna be so 🤭🫶 I’m excited. Anyways. Need Artashi so bad it’s clinical
When you tell Tashi, her face contorts in a mix of annoyance and confusion. At you, for you, at them— it was hard to tell.
“Jesus, you’ve just been jerking and sucking them off for weeks now?” She asks, her lips turned into a frown
“I didn’t think you’d be upset about it,” you said shyly, feeling an uncomfortable knot form in your stomach. “It’s nothing serious between us, just—“
She stops you, laughing wryly. “No, I don’t give a fuck if they’re your boyfriends or not. I just can’t fucking believe that you’ve been getting them off and they haven’t even offered to make you cum.”
You feel heat in your cheeks. “Oh, I don’t… I don’t ever ask. It’s too embarrassing.”
Tashi rolls her eyes. “Jesus, if you can suck their dicks, they can make you cum. It’s not hard.” And she’s right. It’s not like you haven’t wondered what it would feel like for their hands to fit between your thighs, how different it might feel for their fingers to be buried inside of you— long and thick, different than yours. Or their mouths— even though thinking about it makes your stomach twist with embarrassment. “Whatever. I’ll fix it for you.”
Tashi will fix it. And that’s that.
It’s not even a day later that Tashi texts you, inviting you over to her dorm. “They’re fucking chauvinists,” she explains, knees brushing yours as you face each other on her bed. “They’re treating you like a fucking fleshlight because you’re naive. But you’re not going to be naive anymore. You’re going to get exactly what you want. What you need.”
“But I like it,” you admit nervously, afraid to let her down. “Being wanted like that.”
She smiles, brushes her hand along your cheek. “We’re not quitting. We’re leveling the playing field. They’ve given you some lessons, it’s my turn.”
Art Donaldson is a weak link— needy, sweet, eager. He’d follow Patrick or Tashi off a fucking cliff if they wanted him to. Art’s so easy that it’s no surprise when he’s at Tashi’s door fifteen minutes after she texts him.
Between you and Tashi, it’s easy to get him where you want him— desperate, wanting. All it takes are a few kisses and rubbing his dick through his jeans.
He watches, almost dazed as you kiss Tashi deeply, putting all those lessons from him and Patrick to work. And she’s like a mix of the two in a way— like she’d taken the care and hunger Art kissed with and tangled it up in all of Patrick’s intensity and need.
“That’s nice. At least they’re good for something,” Tashi murmurs against your lips. You nod, mouth open, leaning back in to kiss her again. She smiles, leans back. “C’mere.”
Tashi sits against the headboard, pulls you so your back is against her chest. Art slots in between your thighs with no instruction. He tugs down your shorts and panties at once, and your face burns as your pussy is exposed to both of them.
“Look how pretty she is, Art,” Tashi says. She’s holding your thighs apart, keeping you spread open for them. Her lips brush against your jaw and you sigh contentedly. “Give her a kiss.”
Art obeys easily, and his mouth meets your cunt like he’s making out with it. Slow laps of his tongue through your slit, tasting how wet you’d gotten from kissing them. He moans softly, nuzzles closer.
Your eyes flutter, rolling back as your body melts into the new sensation— lips and tongue, the warmth and wetness and pressure. It’s better than your own fingers, or the cheap vibrator you’d gotten at the mall.
You squeeze Tashi’s hand when his lips seal around your clit, nails digging into her palm, forming tiny crescents. “See?” Tashi says. “He’ll do whatever you want, you just have to make him.”
Art’s tongue dips inside of your entrance, making you moan. Tashi relishes in it— in seeing you experience all of it for the first time. It wasn’t fair, she decided, that she’d been left out from the beginning.
“Use your fingers,” Tashi instructs. “I shouldn’t have to tell you this, Art, you should just do it right the first time.”
He moans pathetically against your cunt as she tangles her fingers in his blond curls. You’re so wet that your body accepts his finger easily, like it belongs. He thrusts it slowly, curled just enough to brush against your sweet spot.
He’s grinding against the bed— desperate, needy. His brow is furrowed in concentration, desperate to make you cum so he can be rewarded and praised. He slips a second finger alongside the first, alternates between suckling on your clit and teasing it with soft licks.
You’re so easy to get worked up, especially when you’re sandwiched between Tashi and Art. Neither of them are surprised when you cum, hard and fast, clenching around Art’s fingers, grinding against his face.
Embarrassment and arousal mingle warm in your belly at the sight of Art’s face— all slick and wet. He leans in, kisses Tashi, then kisses you. He undresses while you’re coming down from it, wanting the two of you to lave him with attention, to take care of the aching need between his legs.
That’s not what he’s there for.
Tashi pushes him down onto his back, pins him there with nothing more than a look. He lays there trying to be patient, with his cock hard and resting against his stomach. You see it twitch as she peels off your shirt and your bra, throws her own shirt across the room.
Art watches in eager anticipation as Tashi guides you to straddle him, your wet cunt hovering right over where he wants it. His head falls back against Tashi’s pillows.
“Patrick’s going to fucking kill me,” Art groans.
“Why? She’s not fucking you,” Tashi said firmly. “You’re just going to lay there and be a prop. Be a good boy and lay still.”
His chest heaves as Tashi settles behind you, pressing her body against yours. “Alright, just move with my hands, okay? I’ll show you what boys like.”
You off wordlessly as she starts guiding your hips in slow, grinding motions. Art whines beneath you, as each slow pass of your hips makes your pussy slide along the line of his cock. His head falls back, and he tries and fails to buck up against you with his hips pinned under your and Tashi’s weight.
She guides your hips in slow circles and you whine at the same time as Art. “See?” She asks. You nod, head falling back against her shoulder. “All you need to turn his brain into mush is right here.”
Soon, the pressure of her hands on you is second to instinct— she lets her hands move up your body to squeeze and cup your tits. You turn, letting her lick into your mouth, relishing in the drag of her tongue against yours.
“Can you cum like this?” She breathes into your mouth. “Just using him like a plaything?”
You shake your head. “I don’t know,” you admit.
She just smiles against your lips, leans in for another hungry kiss. “Try.”
She guides your hand to the middle of his chest, giving you more purchase. The new angle makes you moan, eyes squeezing shut as your sensitive clit rubs against him.
“Good, keep going like that.” You almost whine at the loss of her warm behind you as she moves to sit against the wall. The perfect view of you and Art, both submitting to her whims. The sight of her with a hand between her thighs, watching you with a hungry, unabashed desire makes heat pool in your belly. Her fingers circle her clit with the skill of someone who knows exactly how to get what she needs in all things. “Look at him, not me.”
Art’s a fucking mess— red down to his chest, panting and whining beneath you. Without Tashi pinning his legs, he’s able to grind up against you, to seek that friction. Moans tumble past his full lips, and god, he looks so pretty when he’s pinned beneath you for once.
When you cum, it’s with panting moans and trembling thighs. Tashi finishes at the sight, of you— grinding down against the blond, who’s just lying there and taking it. Tashi rubs your back as you come down, smiling like she’d just coached you to victory.
You move off of Art and he’s still hard, still wanting. Pouting at the loss of the warm, slick pressure on his lap.
“Okay, you can go,” Tashi tells Art, with a soft pat against his cheek. He groans, chest still heaving, pouting. Tashi sighs. “You did your job, Art. Thank you.”
You watch him redress, obviously hard in his athletic shorts. He looks back, like he’s checking if Tashi’s going to change her mind (she doesn’t).
When he’s gone, she kisses you again, easing you onto your back, straddling your lap as she grinds her wet pussy against your thigh. “You’re such a good little student,” she praises against your lips. “No wonder they like you so much.”
tashi/patrick vignette next and they will match each others freak trust 🫶
#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson#tashi duncan x reader#tashi duncan#challengers fanfic#challengers x reader#sex lessons au#my writing
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Awake
Azriel x fem!Reader
Summary: Azriel is undeniably furious, especially considering the fact that Y/N has yet to wake up. But, when she does, what will become of their relationship?
Warnings: Vomiting, mentions of Az wanting to kill people for his bbg, very fluffy. Bit of hurt/comfort for both Azriel and Y/N
A/N: Here is part two of Poison (which, btw, thank u for all the support I've been getting on it 😭). feel free to send in requests for acotar bc I'm bored<3
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Azriel doesn’t think he’s ever been angrier in his entire life.
He’s supposed to stay calm and collected, every inch the mysterious spymaster, but not even the strongest sedative could settle the rage brewing in his chest. His shadows curl menacingly around his limbs, the black essence seeming to share his fury.
Rhysand sighs, rubbing his temples. Feyre stands behind him, probably to offer some form of comfort. They both adore Y/N. They’ve practically adopted her with how much they coddle and coo at her, despite her loud laughter and complaints whenever they do.
Cauldron, what Azriel wouldn't do to hear that laugh right now.
It’s been three days. Y/N is not awake. His mate is not awake.
Rhysand finally looks up at Azriel. “We’ve got answers, at least.” Before Azriel can interrupt, he keeps talking. “Beron has admitted to poisoning Y/N. He figured that if he targeted her, we’d crumble. Not because she’s the strongest, but because she’s the most… beloved, daresay. He didn’t think we’d hit back, and he thought he’d be able to crush us with this crack in our defences.”
Azriel’s scarred knuckles are alabaster from how hard he’s gripping the arms of his chair. “That doesn’t make sense. Why would he just admit it?” The High Lord of Night takes a deep breath.
“He found it funny.” The noise that tears from Azriel’s throat is completely inhumane, and completely unlike him. He storms to the door, but Cassian’s strong arms hold him back, urging him to stay calm, urging him to breathe. He can’t. He’s gone past being angry, and he’s gone past blaming it on the new mating bond.
Y/N is his best friend. He’d die and kill for her, he’d steal the moon and stars if it meant she’d be happy. The Mother’s bond can go and fuck itself, because the one he’s already got with Y/N will always be stronger.
“I’ve arranged a meeting with Eris Vanserra.” Rhys’ firm voice cuts through the haze of rage. “He says he has plans, and that this event has solidified his desires. I may be unable to tell you what comes of the meeting, but I guarantee that Beron will suffer for what he did to Y/N.”
Mate. Awake. He almost doesn’t realise what his shadows are whispering to him. Awake. Eyes open. Vomit. GO. He chokes, and desperately tries to break free of Cassian's grip. He needs to see her. He needs her to be okay. “Az, Rhys just said-”
“I know what he just said!” Azriel hates the way his voice is more of a sob. “She’s awake- she’s- please, let me go to her!”
A shadowsinger shouldn’t beg. He shouldn’t grovel. He should attack.
But he doesn’t, because he knows that Y/N is far more important than any conflict he could have with Cassian right now.
And, besides, Cassian lets him go. He’s never run so fast in his life. His feet are barely on the ground, legs and shadows and wings working in tandem to get him there as soon as possible. He thinks he might be the one vomiting in a minute.
Rhys groans. “I know they’re close, but he’s going to drive me insane before I even have this meeting.”
But Feyre, ever the observant High Lady, stares at his retreating form, hand squeezing Rhys’ shoulder. “Give him time. I’m sure he’ll cool off, when he knows she’s safe.” A small smile quirks up at the corners of her lips, knowing exactly why Azriel is so worked up.
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His chest heaves as he pushes the door open, but then it’s filled with warmth. Alive. She’s alive, and upright, and very visibly pissed off but it’s okay because she’s alive.
“The one time I drink something that isn’t champagne-” she croaks out. “-and it turns out to be fucking poisoned. If that’s not my luck I don’t know what is.”
Azriel can’t control the desperate sob that bursts from his lips as he clambers onto the bed, pulling her into his chest. She’s sweaty, and feverish, and she’s just puked into the bucket next to the bed, but he’ll be damned if he cares. She’s alive. He buries his face in her hair, arms and wings squeezing her so tightly it makes her squeak.
“Alright big guy, I’ve just been sick, let’s not try and go for round two.” Her tone is teasing, joking, but the moment he pulls away, her face falls. “Az…” she murmurs, moving her fingers up to wipe his tears. “What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong?” he spits, sobbing again. “What’s wrong!? You were fucking poisoned! You’ve been puking and coughing and writhing and screaming ever since you got here, and you’ve been out for three days. Three whole days- where- I didn’t know if you were dead, I didn’t know if you-”
“Az.” her tone is a bit firmer now, thumbs pressing against his lips. “I’m okay. I’m gonna be okay. I’m here, I’m breathing, and I’m going to be fine. Breathe.”
He heaves a deep breath, clutching her so tightly his fingers make indents on her skin. If she notices, she doesn’t care. “You’re… okay.”
“I’m okay.” She smiles. Her lips are cracked and slightly discoloured, but he’s missed her little smile so fucking much. “Come on, Az, you know me. Tough as nails.” She flexes her arms, and Azriel snorts.
“There’s nothing there. You should really stop skipping training.” “No! You’re always a dick to me in training!”
“Yes, because Cassian’s about as mean as a wet sponge, and it isn’t potty training, it’s battle tactics.” She scoffs. “Whatever, whatever.” And he grins, and hugs her again, trying to engrave the memory of her wrapped up in his arms into his brain, just to keep there forever. “Azriel?” He hums in response. “I- so, you know a couple days back? When... this... happened, and I was just about to fall asleep?” She swallows. “I think I felt something… snap.”
His heart pounds in his chest. “The bond? You felt it too?”
“Uh- yeah.” She looks up at him, big eyes blinking up at him like a doe, her face so sweet he wants to coo. “Are you disappointed? That it’s me?”
That makes Azriel frown. How could he be disappointed? She’s everything and more, anyone can see that. Even if he pushes aside the fact that she’s drop-dead gorgeous, she’s got a brain to match it. She’s quick and clever and sassy in a way that rivals even his own spunk. If anything, she should be the disappointed one.
“No.” he says, brows furrowing. “Y/N, sweetheart, you mean the world to me. How could I be disappointed?” He wants to catch all of the butterflies in his stomach and lock them away forever, because they're making him woozy. “Are- are you?”
“Am I?” her tone is confused, almost shocked. “Az- Az, I’ve been into you for, like, forever. I’m not disappointed. I could never be disappointed, not with you.”
They stare at each other for a long moment, blinking, suddenly coming to terms with the fact that this bond has, for lack of better wording, startled them. They’ve always prioritised everyone else over them, always considered others' needs and benefits above their own, but they’ve never had the chance to fully acknowledge themselves. Maybe that’s what made them so alike. Maybe that’s why the Mother paired them together, knowing that amidst the sarcastic comments and teasing touches, the sturdy roots of their relationship came from their unwavering trust and care for one another.
Azriel’s hand moves to Y/N’s clammy forehead, softly pushing the hair away from her face. Despite everything that’s happened in the last few days, she’s still her, and he’s still him. Nothing is ever going to change that.
“You’re beautiful.” He whispers. She rolls her eyes. “I’ve got a raging fever, I’m drenched in my own sweat, I just threw up and you’re calling me beautiful?”
He laughs, oh, by the Cauldron, he laughs. “You could be a corpse and you’d still be the most beautiful girl in the world.”
“That’s necrophilia, Az. Pretty sure that’s illegal.”
“You’re hilarious, sweetheart.”
“Is that why you fell in love with me?”
“Okay, who’s saying I’m in love with you?”
“Me.” and she grins, nudging her nose against his. “Because I am not only hilarious, but also very observant.” He lets out a little hum in response, scarred fingers still twisting in her hair. Everything’s perfect, because they’re not. Their imperfections are intertwined, just like their souls, and the knowledge the other will always be there to love them is all they've ever wanted.
Azriel’s eyes flit down to her lips, and then he’s leaning in, and she’s doing the same, and-
She pulls away, wincing. “I puked about five minutes ago. I don’t think you want to kiss me right now.”
He rolls his eyes, tipping her chin up. “Y/N L/N, I have waited at least two centuries for the opportunity to kiss you. Don’t stop me now.” And he presses his lips to hers. It’s gentle, soft, sweet. Everything he feels around this girl.
“You’re gross.” She mumbles.
“That’s what love does to you.”
“And you’re a sap.” She grins. “I suppose you’re lucky I love you, even if you are going soft for me.”
“Shut up, sweetheart.”
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@topaz125 @starryhiraeth @nahminae @quiettuba @thecraziestcrayon @honeywithemoney @marvelsmylife @sunny1616 @lilah-asteria @emryb @i-am-infinite @st4r-girl-official
my loves ty for ur support! :)
#fluffy az does something to me#but angry az willing to murder for r is even better#azriel x reader#azriel x y/n#azriel x you#azriel shadowsinger#acotar
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