#it's just so cool she's so cool...........she's my favorite girl hands down bar none

[mod2amaryllis]

yes astarion is pound for pound my favorite character, but the highs of lae'zel are just.....stratospheric

"i have not sinned against vlaakith. she has sinned against me" i'm groveling. every time i hit the floor.

[goldsbitch]

I could tell them where you were that night

part 3 to I gave so many signs

summary: They shouldn't. They really shouldn't...But they did.

warning: present + flashbacks, mature content, cheating, self pleasure, alcohol and smoking, typos

song fic (disclaimer: rights belong to the respectable owners)

The Alibi - Dylan delicate - Taylor Swift

But if there was a crime If there was a body, if there was a knife If you told a real good, real bad lie I'd be standing by your side

Both of them knew this was not going to end well. This screamed "bad idea" on all levels. He should have just turned and run back home. She should have gone straight back to the bar as soon as she saw his unmistakable figure. There was no one to diffuse the tension, all of her friends were back upstairs ordering another drink. Nobody to play pretend to.

"So you're a smoker now," Charles said with a hint of disgust. She'd cursed herself for ever picking up the habit. He had never made her nervous back in the day, maybe she was cashing it in all now retroactively. Stood there like a lamb waiting for someone else to decide her destiny. Totally at his mercy and he had no idea. "Yeah, for a moment I was. Now just these," she pointed to the latest trendy vape in her hand, which Charles mistook for a cigarette. "Ah. Cool." "Not really," she said and inhaled extra large dose of fruity smoke just to breathe it in his face. The regular rules of proximity didn't seem to apply to to them. If he had been standing closer to her, he'd have to be touching her. "So, you're a runner now?" she took the opportunity she looked him up and down, trying not to let her imagination run too wild. "Always was." "No, you were not," she laughed genuinely. "What are you trying to play at here?" She was right. Charles picked up running with his first real girlfriend. "And what a bizarre thing anyway - to go for a run after a night out," she pointed out and he smirked, as both of them knew she got him with that. "I should not be seen with you for long. Doubt that you'd pass as a fan." It felt like an invitation from him, but she was well aware that he was not inviting her to his home. There was a strange spark in his face, as if he dared her to ask him to come over. Like a shameless devil testing her self control. "I'll take a cab and you can run over to my place. Let's see who'll get there first," she dared him back.

If there was a way That someone at the scene had saw your face I could tell 'em where you were that night You were standing by my side

"You should have told me that you parents were home!" he whispered angrily, as they snuck in like they used to back in the day. Funny how it worked like magic and Charles felt as if he just turned nineteen, terrified of running into Y/N's angry mom. "What? It's not like your place is empty, correct?" she shot arrows at him without waiting for an answer. Shot of guilt went thought Charles and he decided chased that by lying to himself, thinking that this was just a casual catch up with an old friend.

We can't make Any promises now, can we, babe? But you can make me a drink

Charles waited on the balcony adjacent to her old high school bedroom, that remained untouched for years, serving as a perfect door for nostalgia, while she made their favorite Moscow mule. He had tasted many of those since they last saw each other. None of those tasted so intoxicating like this one.

"So, big racer boy. Always wondered. Which out of the cities you go to is the most fun?" "Define fun. I'm sure your taste has evolved over the years." Yes, it had. No longer was she blind towards the god like man sitting across from her. "Ok, where did you fuck the most girls?" "Monaco," he smirked at her. He realized he enjoyed teasing her. No longer was he the shy love stuck puppy dancing as she demanded. "You became quite forward, huh? I remember you avoiding these subjects," he followed up, testing the waters. She gave him a long look, before letting a loud sigh out: "Charlie, it's been years. People change. Mature. Gain experience..." "And then come back to where they started, huh?"

Is it cool that I said all that? Is it chill that you're in my head? 'Cause I know that it's delicate

He leaned a little too close for an old time friend. Slowly, he touched her hand and waited for her to stop him. When she didn't, he tangled his fingers with hers. No longer were they soft baby hands, but adult fingers with tender touch. "I missed you," he said quietly. Old habit kicked in and she avoided his eye contact. But this time, he put his hand on her cheek and turned her face towards him, so that she couldn't just dismiss it, like she had so many times back then. "I missed you too." There was an urgency and a vulnerability that he had never heard from her before. It was addicting and intoxicating. He carefully closed the gap between them and their lips brushed so lightly that one could still pass it as friendly touch, if they really really wanted to. But with every second they kept their lips like that, the gap of morally safe evening kept closing inevitably. They stayed like that for just a few seconds, both of them waiting to see if the other one pulls away. Until finally, her lips moved slightly and then there really was no way back. Charles forgot that there ever was anyone else in his life and kissed her slowly. She took his bottom lip in and let her tongue lick it, breaking the soft kiss with urgency only years of daydreaming can bring.

Do the girls back home touch you like I do? Long night with your hands up in my hair Echoes of your footsteps on the stairs Stay here, honey, I don't wanna share

This was bad. Ugly, disrespectful and not something a friend would do. Charles was locked in room again having the luxury to spend few weeks in a sunny Monte Carlo. But sunny days at home also meant that he and Y/N were spending a lot of time together. Charles knew he was head-over-heels for this girl, but kept himself at bay. But these thoughts he was having were a little too much. Inappropriate. Made him feel dirty and shameful. He was just a teenage boy and he just came back from a beach day with his crush. It was impossible to focus on anything, he was suppose be studying for his exam, exploring race strategies, anything! He could have been a good son and helped his mom out. But no, instead he was pacing around his room, desperately trying to block all the images that got burned to his memory under that day's bright sunlight. Why did he even suggest a beach day - and why would she ever agree to that. Stupid idea. Charles was mad at himself for being so stereotypically teenage. For a split second, he stopped with the self-shame and allowed himself to recall this afternoon. Perfect Monaco sunlight hitting Y/N lightly tanned skin, her hair falling out of her messy bun, just begging for him to tuck it behind her ear. This was all still pretty innocent. But then there were the shoulders. The collarbone leading way towards her boobs, covered by a piece of bathing suite fabric, that pushed her cleavage up just a little bit, but it felt like a weapon designer specifically to destroy him. He had to stop himself from looking. When that proved impossible, he opted for looking only when he had his sunglasses on. If only he could take his hand and lightly brush over her nipples, which he couldn't forget about since the Moscow mule night. And then if only he could squeeze her boobs while tracing the line of her waste and over to her ass, also barely covered by a bathing suite. If only he was brave enough to do so, to make his wildest dreams come true and to confess his feelings. To have her come over to his place, look him suggestively in the eye, lick her lips and take him in her pretty little mouth. It didn't matter that she was slightly younger, in his fantasy she was the more experienced one, the one to guide him, instruct him and tell him what she likes. And once he learned, he would make her moan like nobody before, because he would adapt himself to any style she'd want. The visuals of a daydream extension of their today's hang out crept in, and there she was, taking her bra off and inviting him to join her in the water. Free, happy and heavenly hot. By some miracle he managed to avoid having a boner in her company. What he didn't manage was to stop stroking himself while drowning in the thoughts about her and her body, no matter how shameful it was for him. The best orgasm of his life yet had his hands covered with his cum and his head with clouded with growing, never-stoping need for a touch from his crush.

It was a different man kissing Y/N than the boy who had imagined it more times that he would ever admit. Yet still, he was getting to live out his ultimate fantasy, one that he almost forgot he had, until all the desire rushed back in and screamed so loudly he couldn't hear anything else. And the best thing? The best thing was that she was responding enthusiastically, felt as if she was hungry for something only he could have. He was a different man now, experienced, understood the spectrums of what touch could offer. The confidence radiated from him and it was Y/N who was now who danced way over the line of self control. It was her, who drank so much cheap wine in the form of men bad at sex, that she could finally appreciate the Montrachet Chardonnay she overlooked the first time around.

"We should get inside, mon cheri," he whispered into her lips. She understood why and did not want to hear him say it. Because in his silence, she could insert any thought and that was probably better than the hard truth - they were too exposed on her balcony. She nodded and slowly opened her eyes. Even with the dim lights she saw the tender spark in the most captivating shade of blue the world can offer.

Oh damn, never seen that color blue Just think of the fun things we could do

He pressed her to the door frame while devouring her lips. Lines have been crossed and the room was filled with unresolved sexual tension. Charles wanted her - naked and moaning in pleasure. She pulled his hair while they made out and each pull was like gasoline to the fire of his desire. He traced her side with his cheeky finger and then slipped his hand under her t-shirt only to trace the line of her bra and then swiftly cupping her breast. "So you're wearing bras now," he let slip out of his mouth, already fucking her in his thoughts. His comment sparked a distant memory of an evening long gone by now. She was shivering his touch and wanted more and more. "Yeah...but now you're not gonna have to touch yourself alone or secretely," she said, hoping he actually had done that in the past, trying to tease him once more, while grabbing the hem of his belt and pulling him even closer. It worked. He was hard as a rock. He pressed his cock against her and started kissing her neck. She wondered if he understood the cocktail of pleasure and arousal he was preparing for her and felt even a bit shameful to crumble so easily. He felt her cave into his embrace as soon as he touched her neck and made a mental note, so come back to this spot once he was inside her. He thought about her devilish finger making her way to his cock slowly, just painfully slowly. She was teasing him and while he was loving that, he couldn't wait a second longer. He grabbed her hand pushed right onto his erection, which cause her letting out a surprised gasp. "I'm gonna fuck you, Y/N. Say yes if you want me to," he whispered into her neck. Not much second guessing went into her reply. "Yes," she moaned out, causing shivers on his neck. "Really?" he said, unhooking her bra. She smiled. This was no shy unsure Charlie. This was a confident man with intension to make her feel good. "Yes..." With that, he pulled away to help her get her t-shirt off and get rid of the cursed bra. Finally, he could stare as much as he wanted to.

He fucked her like there was no tomorrow. For them there really wasn't a tomorrow, because technically, there wasn't suppose to be a tonight. It was to stay as a blank page, moans written in an invisible ink, for no one but them to read. Morning would bring trouble, reason would wake up and start ordering around. As long as the sun wasn't watching, they were safe, hidden in each other and wrapped by desire.

Sometimes when I look into your eyes I pretend you're mine all the damn time

part 4

--------------------------------------------------------- @linnmee @itsjustkhaos @rhythmstars @blueflorals

[raquellemonsta]

the sweet things in life (tsukishima x reader)

previous || next

chapter 7: training camp

Even two weeks later, none of the guys would shut up about how excited they were for the Tokyo training camp (other than Tsukishima obviously). Ukai dismissed everyone from practice and told everyone when the bus would leave the next day.

When you got home from practice, you started packing for the upcoming week. You had your Section.80 cd in the player and were having a good time just going through your closet. You weren't exactly sure what you wanted to wear, so you packed some of your Karasuno stuff, shorts, sweats, and other (kind of clothes you want to wear). You debated on whether or not to pack a swimsuit, would there even be a pool or anything? Throwing one in just in case, you started looking through your jewelry. You had begun painting your nails when your phone suddenly buzzed.

You unlocked it to see a text from Tsukishima checking on you to see if you were packing yet, or if your short attention span had somehow forgotten. You laughed at the text before quickly responding that you were, in fact, packing. You were almost done! He sent a dry message in response so you shut your phone off and finished packing.

The two of you had done really well on your finals, getting near perfect scores. He had been texting you more recently but a lot of times it was school or club-related. You looked through your texts with him again before shutting your lamp light off and falling asleep

----

Your alarm woke you up far too early and you started getting dressed and ready to go to the training camp. You pulled on the team sweatpants, along with a white tank top and your unzipped Karasuno jacket.

You made sure you had your earbuds and phone charger before grabbing your backpack and blanket. You headed to your kitchen and grabbed yourself an apple, stuffing other snacks into your backpack for your team. Texting your parents, you locked the door and headed off to the school.

When you got there, Kiyoko as well as the other third years and Ennoshita were already there. Sugawara greeted you with a bright smile as the others wished good morning to you. You half-heartedly waved back while keeping your eyes closed, trying to somehow sleep while standing up.

Soon, the other players turned up (minus Kageyama and Hinata) and everyone boarded the bus. Some of the guys offered up the seats next to them, however you decided to sit by yourself so that you could lay down across the seats. Kiyoko and the blonde girl, Yachi, sat in the row across from you. She hadn't become any less meek in the time you had known her, and you found it a little bit annoying at times, but she was nice so you really didn't have a problem with her.

The bus was a little bit quieter than it had been for the practice match, but that was reasonable thanks to the lack of noisy first years. The other first years were sitting towards the back, Tsukishima with his headphones on and Yamaguchi playing some sort of game on his phone. You made eye contact with Tsukishima and you smiled at him. You could have sworn he actually look totally annoyed when you did. You thought about the other two and were struck with wondering how they were going to manage to make it to the camp.

"Hey, how are those two getting here anyway?" you asked aloud, figuring everyone would know 'those two' you were referring to. You grabbed a cereal bar and threw it at Noya, who had been making grabbing hands at your backpack.

"My sister is driving them" Tanaka replied, to which Suga snickered. Weird...

You accepted the answer before sitting back down in your row and leaning your back against the cool window. The bus ride would last a little while, so you put your earbuds in and started listening to (your favorite music from the late 2000's//Britney Spears). You shut your eyes and tuned out the outside dull chatter of the few people on the bus actually talking. You managed to fall asleep and were out for the rest of the ride, not noticing the gaze of one of the players.

----

You were tapped awake by Kiyoko. Sitting up, you realized you were the only other person still on the bus. You quickly gathered your things and hurried off.

You followed Kiyoko and Yachi inside to and up a few sets of stairs to the room the managers would be staying in. Sliding the door open, you were faced with a large room with eight futons. You were told there would be seven managers there (counting yourself), though only two of the futons were claimed with bags on them. You decided to take one near the window and laid your blanket down on it. Kiyoko took the one next to you, while Yachi took one a little further away from you. Maybe you should try becoming closer with her over this week, you thought.

The three of you made your way back down the stairs and waited for the boys to come back down from their room.

You stood in the hallway as another team showed up, wearing light green. Their manager walked over to you and introduced herself as Otaki Mako. Kiyoko went to show her the room, leaving you alone with Yachi. You tried thinking of some common ground with her. You were both in college prep classes, but she was in 1-5 and you were 1-4. You both were new to being managers, but you already knew some things about volleyball and she didn't. You questioned if you should ask her about her music taste, and then wondered if you could guess what she liked beforehand. J-pop? It was hard to tell.

The guys had come back downstairs, coincidentally at the same time as Nekoma. You saw Yamamoto again, who caught sight of you and tried coming over to you. You assumed it was because Kiyoko was nowhere in sight, however you weren't looking forward to the awkward conversation that awaited you when he finally got to you. However, you didn't have to face that as a presence behind you quickly stopped him. Then, he noticed Tanaka and instead headed over to him.

Turning around you were faced with Tsukishima looking directly at Yamamoto, almost as though he was daring him to try and be dumb enough to make a move. Apparently, he wasn't. You smiled at him in thanks.

The rest of the team started heading towards a cafeteria area for midday lunch. He wasn't making a move so you grabbed his wrist and started walking after them. He didn't protest or try to rip his hand away from yours so you figured it was okay.

Once you were there, you picked (food of choice). You went and sat down at the table with the other Karasuno first years, Yamaguchi, Yachi, Kageyama, and Hinata already there. You sat next to Yachi while Tsukishima (who had followed you) sat next to you on your right.

Kageyama and Hinata were having a stupid argument about God knows what, while Yamaguchi struck up a conversation about the other teams that were already there. You sat and mostly listened to him ramble about Nekoma and how you guys were going to beat them this time around.

"You agree, right Yachi?" he suddenly asked. Her face quickly turned a dark pink.

"O-oh I'm not really sure, I don't know if I have the knowledge to say, but I hope you do!" (I dislike writing excessive stuttering and stuff sorry) she nervously responded. There's the part of her you're conflicted about, both slightly annoying but incredibly sweet. You smile at her.

"Way to be a supportive manager, Yachi" you said. She looked at you with stars in her eyes. You tried not to laugh at the look on her face and successfully managed to keep it hidden. She only smiled and looked away. Who knew that four words could make her day?

With the other guys now all discussing new strategies for their upcoming matches, you turned to the blond boy next to you, who had seemingly already been looking at you without you noticing. He quickly averted his eyes but you kneed him playfully.

"You've been unusually quiet, is everything alright?" you softly questioned. You didn't want the others to hear and make him embarrassed, for then you surely all would see the snarky, salty, snippy Tsukki that wasn't always the most fun to deal with (though you were okay with it since that was just one of the things that made him, him).

He didn't make eye contact with you for several seconds, though when he finally did he only stared down at you. It was kind of creepy, honestly. Then, without notice, he excused the two of you from the table with the lie of needing to go search for a missing water bottle. The two of you left the cafeteria area and headed down a few halls until you were in a secluded area away from any possible spectators.

"Seriously, what's wrong? Clearly somethings up. I've never heard you, or I guess not heard you for so long" you interrogated. Rather than directly answering your question, he hit you with his own.

"Why didn't you want to sit with me on the bus?" he quietly questioned. You looked up at him in awe. Was that it? You didn't think something that was seemingly so insignificant would upset the usually unbothered boy.

"I didn't know you would want to sit with me" you spoke. Your voice wavered a little bit, your emotions flooding a little wild.

He gave you a look you couldn't read very well, before unexpectedly pulling you into his arms. You were a little stunned by his uncharacteristic action, but wrapped your arms around him in return. The two of you held it longer than what was probably acceptable for a 'friendly' hug, but you honestly didn't feel like you two were just friends either. Of course, there was no label agreed upon by the two of you yet, but it made your heart flutter just thinking about him. Everything about this boy made you crazy, more so than any girl would feel about a guy who was just a friend.

"I'm sorry," you told him. You wanted to resolve any of the pain or questioning he was feeling in his heart. "I would have loved to sit with you".

He didn't say anything in return, opting to just hold you a little tighter before letting go. You couldn't help the smile that made its way onto your face. You looked up at him with big eyes to which he made a weird face and covered his mouth.

"Quit looking so pathetic, it's kind of cute" he said before heading back in the direction of the cafeteria.

You were still soaking up the moment with him when you understood what he had actually just said.

"Hey!"

[edupunkn00b]

Ours, Ch. 1: My Invitation

My Invitation - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

A mysterious stranger tells Roman the truth about his brother's disappearance and offers a helping hand.

WC: 1552 - Rated: T - CW: Discussion of vampires, feeding, and hunting @royalityweek Day 1: Invitation A standalone Royality story set in the same universe as Beside Me, Dee, and the upcoming Thrall. -

It had been three months since Roman had last seen his brother. It had been three weeks since he’d last spoken to him.

And three days since he’d woken up to Remus’ final, rambling text.

Ro I have to try Ro nothing else has worked the meds, the shocks, none of it works. They say this helps and it’s gotta work it’s just gotta. I can’t go back I just can’t go back and I’m not gonna go back I’m gonna try this and I if it works when you see me again I’m healed

Roman didn’t bother with a photograph. His face was all he needed.

“Hey, I’m looking for my brother,” he pushed a smile onto his face as he approached a couple waiting for the bus. “He looks just like me, just with a mustache and���“

“Sorry, can’t help you,” the guy muttered, giving him a brief, tight smile. All lip and no teeth. He wouldn’t even meet his eyes.

The girl hanging on his arm was friendlier but just as unhelpful. “We really wish we could help,” she’d cooed, blown pupils revealing just how high she was. Her head rested on the guys shoulder and her eyes kept drifting over to his as she talked, drawn by a string. Their bus hissed as it slowed to a stop in front of them. “Hope you find him,” she purred, then let the guy usher her up into the bus.

“Thanks,” Roman muttered as he stepped back and the door closed in his face. He waited until the bus growled and tumbled down the otherwise deserted street. Nothing was open this late at night, but this was Re’s favorite time. Cool air, well, as cool as summer got in the concrete jungle.

And quiet. Re liked to joke that after last call and all the bars closed, fewer people in the streets made it easier for him to tell that the voices he heard were coming from his head and not passers-by.

Roman never thought the joke was very funny.

A door opened two blocks down and a splash of light and music spilled out into the night. Something was open. Roman watched a tall silhouette slink down the sidewalk, turning in profile before disappearing into the shadows. It wasn’t Re. But perhaps someone there had seen his brother somewhere? He knew it was a long shot, but he’d already checked every hospital, every morgue. After the second hospitalization, Re signed a blanket disclosure for him, so he knew his brother hadn’t been readmitted.

And the police? Once they’d pulled up his arrest record, the cops had been less than worthless, with the kindest of them hinting that maybe he should take Re’s disappearance as a gift.

As much as Roman didn’t want to find his brother in a fucking bar, it was better than not finding him at all and he hurried to the door. The front was clean, well-kept, and the heavy wood door and the brass handle was polished. The place was old, but not decrepit-old, more like… fine antique old.

He reached for the handle but before his fingers closed around the fingerprint free metal, an impossibly strong hand wrapped around his arm and yanked him into the darkened alley.

“Do you have a death wish?” a voice growled, incongruously soft baby blue eyes glinted back at him in the darkened alleyway.

“What?” Roman tried to pull away but the man’s grip was too strong. He stepped closer and into a pool of light bleeding from the streetlamps across the way. He was tall and… broad, dressed in a long grey trenchcoat and some kind of paramilitary-looking khakis, pockets bulging. He had some kind of knife thing strapped to one thigh, his hand hovering over it like he was just itching to shank him right there in the alley.

“Look, I… I don’t have a lot of money but just take it,” Roman tried again to pull away. The guy stayed centered and when Roman feinted in one direction, he wasn’t fooled, staying on him.

“Money?” The guy suddenly laughed and released his arm. “I don’t want your money. I’m trying to save your life. That’s a vampire’s den.” 

“Those aren’t real, they’re—”

The door opened and the guy pulled him into the shadows, one hand coming up to cover his mouth. “Shh, and watch…”

A man and a woman emerged from the bar—what the hell was a bar doing still open after last call, anyway? They stood right under the streetlamp, giving Roman a good look at them. The man clung to her arm just like the couple from the bus stop, dazed and high, holding on to her like she’d hung the moon.

“Oh, my sweet…” The man whined and tilted his head, like he was enticing her with his neck. “Now, now, not out here… Emile would sooner stake me than let me take you outside.” She traced a line down his neck and the man shuddered under her touch. 

What caught Roman’s eyes, though, were the two puncture wounds her hand revealed. “Let’s get you home, my sweet. I’m getting hungry again.” 

The rest of their words were muffled under a haze of static as Roman sank down to the dirty alleyway. A high pitched keen filled his ears and it took a minute for him to realize that was him.

Warm, calloused hands closed over his and he gripped back reflexively, the guy’s hairy knuckles and the fuzziness on the backs of his hands oddly comforting. “Hey, Kiddo, just breathe for me, okay…” He squeezed his hands, inhaling slowly and deliberately. Roman tried to copy him, but broke into a panting sob.

“That’s good, that’s a good try…” The guy praised him anyway. “Try again now,” he murmured. His voice was low and strong, not whispering, but quiet words just for him. Roman realized he was speaking right next to his ear. He should be freaked out, he should push him away. But he just felt… safe. He tried again to copy his breathing and this time he could do it.

“Very good, that’s it…” he said and Roman slowly nodded. “No bloodsucker’s gonna hurt you with me around, okay?” 

Roman lifted his head and the guy’s eyes widened. “It’s you, but…”

“You’ve seen me before?”

He leaned in, breathing deeply, almost like he was smelling him. The guy shook his head. “Not you…” he said slowly.

“With a mustache?” Roman scrambled to his feet. “You’ve seen my twin? My brother Remus, I—”

“Oh…” His face fell, sorrow and pity crumpling his features. “I’m so sorry. I…” The guy gripped his arms and Roman had the distinct feeling he was holding him upright. “I’ve seen your brother… he…” 

The guy hung his head and the streetlight filtered through his blonde curls, giving him almost a halo. The rough tone clashed with the angelic softness and Roman was suddenly grateful for the guy’s tight grip on his arms as his knees weakened. “The bloodsuckers got him,” he finally said.

“What? No—” Roman shook his head. His face and neck grew wet and he stared back at the guy past blurry vision. “Where… his body? He’s not in the morgues… I checked… I checked every John Doe… No, I—”

“Oh, Kiddo,” he whispered now and pulled him into a big bear hug. Roman sobbed against his shoulder like a baby. After all this? A vamp got him? “There’s no body, Kiddo. They… they turned him.”

Rage burned through Roman’s veins. Vamps stole his brother, his whole family, and they didn’t even leave him a body to bury, to say goodbye to? “How… how do you know?” His voice shook. It couldn’t be true.

“I saw it happen, Kiddo. From the roof.”

"And you just watched!?" Roman pulled back but the guy’s iron grip kept him in place. “Why didn’t you—“

He shook his head. “By the time I saw—“

“How hard is it to see a vamp biting into a man’s neck?”

“You don’t understand… People come here to… to feed them. They… they like it. I thought… I thought your brother…” The guy swallowed hard, like he might be sick. Horror churned in Roman’s guts as realization grew.

He shook his head, rage freezing hard and cold in his chest. “No…”

“Once I realized, I jumped down, but I wasn’t fast enough. V had taken him.”

“I’ll kill him.”

The guy stared at him and Roman just stared back. “There’s nothing you could possibly say to change my mind. My brother and I fought everything together. When Re got sick, we lost everything. Everyone. All we had was each other. Without Re… without Re I have nothing. And nothing left to lose.”

“Not even your life?” The guy’s blue eyes pierced right through him, but Roman didn’t look away.

The guy stepped back but still wouldn’t let him go. A slow smile spread across his face. “Well, if you’re going after the most dangerous bloodsucker in the city, you’re gonna need help, then, won’t you?

“What do you know about The Hunters?”

[blueberryshelves]

_______________________________________________

Book Review

Title: The Bite Author: Z.W. Taylor

Series: The Moon Blood Saga, book #1

No. of Pages: 312

ISBN: 978-1-9902-5965-4 (Also available on wattpad)

Synopsis:

A page-turning paranormal suspense novel about a woman fighting for a new life—and the bite that shifts everything."A deeply satisfying tale . . . werewolf fans should check this out." —Publishers Weekly To escape her violent ex, Charlotte flees her home in the middle of the night with nothing but the cash in her pocket and a paper map leading her north to Alaska. She sheds her old self along the way: dyeing her hair, scrubbing off her fake California tan, and pawning all her jewelry. None of it is worth anything if she can’t stay alive. Alone in the wilderness, Charlotte feels safe at last. Even if she’s lost, even if she’s only got a burner phone that lost its last bar miles ago, and even if she missed her turn and can’t find the cabin she was promised by a friend. Tucked into a sleeping bag in the back seat of her ancient truck, she’s finally living life on her own terms. But that feeling is short-lived. In the middle of the woods, Charlotte’s attacked, brutally, unforgivingly—and something bites her leg. And it’s a bite that will change her life forever.

_______________________________________________

What did I think of the book?

The Bite by Z.W. Taylor My rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐ 4 of 5 stars Okay, this book was pretty cool. Very emotional, lots of triggers, but I found myself really liking it, more than I thought I was going to. Though some of the details were confusing and didn’t make much sense at times, especially in the early chapters, (the version I read also had a fair few typos), this didn’t affect the reading experience for me enough to matter much. The overall concept of a girl going through the process of overcoming abuse from her partner, all with the fun of werewolves and such in the mix, really made for a keep-me-on-the-edge-of-my-seat read. I haven’t seen this kind of take on the werewolf genre before, so I thoroughly enjoyed the fresh material. The shifting scenes were so well done, hands down the best description and imagery I’ve seen in a werewolf book so far. I couldn’t put the book down, and the ending was so satisfying. I’m honestly glad that there isn’t romance in the book yet, despite craving it a little bit. I think it wouldn’t make any sense so early on in the MC’s healing journey. We see Charlotte resisting those kinds of feelings that attempt to poke their head up when Liam is being a friend to her in his own fun way, and that little detail emphasizes just how scarred this poor girl is from her past lover, adding to the realism of the emotions being expressed throughout the book. Some have said the original version of the story is better, but personally, I’d say this rework was still quite the banger of a book on its own, and I very much look forward to book two. Favorite character/s: Can I say everyone? I found myself liking all of the main characters (Charlotte, Levi, Liam, Derek, Elliot) all for different reasons, which normally isn’t the case, ever. But, in order, top fav. would probably be Liam for how sweet he is and the friendship he makes with Charlotte. Second would be Derek and Elliot, those two together are just hilarious. Third: Levi and Charlotte. Levi grew on me a lot as the book went on, despite the kind of character he is, and the connection that develops between him and Charlotte was just beautiful. Charlotte’s character also had really good character development and I hope we get to see more of that in the second book. What drew me to this book? The cover. It was bold and stood out to me among the others I’d been scrolling through. Stars: 4/5 - even with the few hiccups that the book had, the author nailed the story and balance between the healing process of the MC, and werewolf elements. So this is a solid 4 out of 5 stars for me. View all my reviews

[yourthoughtsjim]

Early Days

Barry Allen x Liberty Michaelson (OC)

As part of the collab @chiwhorei has going on, I wrote up this little thing. Have barista Barry being his awkward nerdy self in front of the new cute girl in town.

Warnings: None!

Word count: 750

The smell of fresh coffee fills the establishment Liberty Michaelson finds herself in. She was far away from her home city of Gotham. Her mentor had sent her to Central City to scope out the city, see if there was anything of note. 

Barry Allen stands at the counter, pouring from a fresh pot of coffee. He then steams some milk and makes a little design in the previously ordered latte. “One french vanilla latte for…” he pauses, looking for the name. “Liberty?” He finishes. 

The cat's eyes scan the room to find where the voice was coming from. Her gaze falls on the barista. Grabbing her things, she makes her way towards the counter. 

Her mentor had left her with a credit card she could use for anything so she digs in her pocket for it. Liberty was never really that put together. Swiping it, the machine reads “Approved.”

Barry couldn’t help but take note of how pretty she is. Her long black hair framing her face just right. Those green eyes are almost piercing. He watches as she goes to a different part of the cafe to sit.

Liberty pulls her phone out and dials a quick number. “Hey… there’s really nothing of note here yet, but it seems like there will be one day. There’s a lab being built currently and maybe we could scope that out when it gets built?” She speaks into the phone.

The conversation lasts a while. Enough time for Barry to clock out. He grabs his usual. “Go and talk to her, Barry. You want to and it’s so painfully obvious.” One of his co-workers states. 

A quick nod from Barry is the only response the employee received. That’s when he makes his way over to the woman. He put his hands on the tall table. “So, hi. My name is Barry Allen and I am… really nervous.” He lightly laughs. 

The cat looks at the barista. Her green eyes sparkling in the lighting. “Liberty Michaelson.” She offers her hand. 

Barry accepts. “Do you mind if I?” He points to the chair in front of her.

“Oh no, go ahead.” 

He nods before taking his seat. He rubs his thighs before putting them flat on the table. “So, how’d you find yourself in Central City?” Barry questions. 

“How’d you know I was from out of town?” Liberty inquires herself.

“There aren’t really any girls like you that come around here.” 

She pushes a piece of hair behind her ear. Then she goes for her bag. It was covered in all sorts of pins and badges.

That’s when Barry takes a good look. He notices a familiar one. “Hey! Isn’t that from the new manga, Attack on Titan?” 

“It is! I’ve read all the issues that have come out so far. I personally like Armin so far. Kids got spunk.” 

“Armin is a good one. Eren I’m on the fence about. Erwin would probably have to be my favorite. Oh! Mikasa is so cool. I wonder what it’s like to swing from building to building.” Barry remarks.

Liberty almost chokes on her drink at the remark. She had some experience in that department.

“Are you okay?” Barry gently asks. 

“Yeah, went down the wrong pipe.” 

“You know, I was actually in an anime club in high school.” Barry states. 

“Really? That’s so cool. I was never in any clubs.” The thief responds.

“I was in quite a few. My favorite of them being theater.” 

“Oh so cute coffee guy can sing huh? Maybe while I’m in town, We can go try that karaoke bar down the street.” 

Liberty blushes when she realizes she had just propositioned the man that made her the drink she was currently sipping on. 

Barry, being nervous declines her offer, in favor of telling her how busy he is between the coffee shop and his schooling. 

“Ah, then maybe another time?” 

“Maybe, but for now, I need to get back on the grind, and I’m not just talking about the coffee beans.” He then cringes at himself.

Liberty thought it was pretty funny so to calm him down a bit she gives a smile and small laugh. “Well, it was nice meeting you Barry. Let’s hope our paths cross again.” She remarks, grabbing her belongings. 

Barry had turned his attention to his co-workers. When he turned back around, the woman was gone. Almost in a flash.

“What a woman.” Barry thinks to himself as he sips his own drink.

[cerastes]

Bar none my favorite cast so far has been the Kazimierz event cast, the only complaint I have regarding the Maria Nearl event, as I’ve mentioned before, is how weak the ending was (where Maria Gets Robbed Last Second for no real reason), but besides that, it’s still one of my top favorite events.

Maria, the young and energetic but inexperienced girl who happens to be the preciousest littlest princess of four grizzled veterans that love her, and that had an easy out to pursue her dreams (Zofia said she can just move in with her no problem, Kowal explicitly said he’s giving her his workshop) but decides to take matters into her hands regarding her crumbling clan standing because that’s what knighthood, and the duty of one under its titling, should do. Maria is inexperienced, but not naive. She understands she’s out of her element, she doesn’t even like fighting nor does she know the first thing about it, but it’s what her grandfather and her sister would do, and aren’t they paragons of attitude, gumption, and determination?

So she goes and fights and gets beat up and battered and bruised and blasted but by god she does not relent in the slightest. And in the end, what Zofia and V drill into her are just baseline abilities to survive, what she really uses to win each fight is what she has learned from Kowal and from her own passion for engineering. Her victories are her McGyvering a solution based on her knowledge of what she really knows and loves, and capitalizing on her unique skill set and incredible ability to pick up on the small details that build the big picture.

And every time she wins, she’s left a mangled but unrelenting mess, and you have her four parents all but begging her to back down already, she made her point, it’s only getting more dangerous with each round, but she’s not done until she’s DONE, so fine says her dad Kowal and tunes up her gear, fine says her mom-sister Zofia and teaches her more martial skills, fine says her other dad V and comments on how she can use her footwork better and deal with ranged affronts more efficiently, fine says her uncle Marcin and lets them cool out in his bar, away from the prying eyes of the press. They absolutely don’t like or approve of their preciousest littlest princess getting beat to an inch of her life, but there’s no way they aren’t gonna help her, all while being a rowdy bunch of retirees. Ride or ride, because there’s no die in here, not on their watch.

[jeoniius]

When you don’t know him | jjk (m.)

☆ pairings: idol!jungkook x reader

☆ genre: smut 

☆ word count: 1.7k

☆ warnings: making out, slight breast play, fingering, tongue fucking, pussy eating, bigdick!jungkook, unprotected sex (wrap it up, people) 

☆ summary: just a day of you whining about how much your work sucks and then being in someone’s bed. fun fact: he’s famous but you don’t know that. 

☆ a/n: so, i know i haven’t posted anything for a while (writer’s block is being a real bitch to me, for the past few weeks.) I am currently working on some fics and I have a few of these written in my drafts so here you go. These are unedited so please excuse me for this. This drabble was literally my first attempt at smut and so it kind of suck. lol. Anyways, enjoy!

*✧×✧*

"I am so tired of this every day. The stress at work is too much for me. I mean what does it take for someone to give a person, who by the way, works 17 hours a day, even overtime, a fucking break?" You yelled frustrated, hands in your head, to a stranger you met at the bar. A handsome stranger to be precise. 

Jungkook looked at you, admiring your features. She isn't like the others. She didn't throw herself at me like others do, he thought. He was the international playboy or so they said. He had fucked many girls before but none of them were like you. Jungkook thought you were pretty the moment he saw you, deciding to buy you a drink. He didn’t know what he was doing in a pub when he should be in the studio but he didn’t care.

Your mascara ran down your cheeks like a straight line in a sheet from all the crying before. Apparently, your boss has made your life “a fucking piece of cow dunk”. Your words, not his. At some point, Jungkook felt like giving you all the break in the world, his heart aching a little as he listened to you complain about your boss. 

"Maybe I can help you relieve your stress," Jungkook said, placing his hands on your thighs. You bit your lower lips. "One night I can let my guard down right?" you thought. One of your favorite songs came up and just like that you were not the person who was crying her heart out anymore. You poured the last shot down your throat. Leaning in "Okay, but we're dancing first '' you said, placing a kiss on his cheeks and pulling him to the dance floor. He was truly in awe. 

You started swaying your hips to the beat. Jungkook was quite the dancer himself but he didn't know what to do. You pulled him close to you. Your back facing his chest. Both of your bodies pressed together, hips moving sensually to the music. Jungkook placed a hand on your hips squeezing them occasionally. His face dropped down resting on the shoulders while your hands above your head grabbed his nape. 

Grinding yourself against him, you tried to create a friction. Jungkook sucked in a breath "Let's not do this here" Jungkook said, stopping you. He grabbed your hands and pulled you out of the club. Getting inside the car, you drove out of the place. 

The ride was silent. You rested your head against the seat, his hands on your thighs. The soft cool wind hit your face causing your hair to flow back. 

The car stopped and you got out. Your face lit up on seeing his mansion. Yes. A mansion. You didn't realize how rich he was until he saw the mansion in front of you. But you didn't care about his money. This was going to be the best night of your life. All this freedom should be worth it. "That's a beautiful house you've got there," you said while walking by his side. He let out a small chuckle. There was a comfortable silence while you walked. That was until you reached the door. 

Jungkook opened the door and pulled you inside. you threw your arms around his neck while he closed the door with his legs. He smashed his lips onto yours. You jumped and wrapped your legs around his torso. 

He nibbled onto your lower lip, biting it, asking for entrance as you moaned into the kiss and gladly let him slide his tongue across your lips, into your mouth. It was a sloppy and messy kiss, teeth and tongue clashing everywhere as he carried you towards his bedroom. 

Throwing you onto the bed, his mouth found its way towards your neck. He swiftly glided his tongue across your collarbone and then started sucking the junction between your neck and shoulder. You moaned, hands tangling with his hair, softly tugging the ends. He continued abusing your neck and then looked up to see his masterpiece. He stared at you like you were the most beautiful art piece and he had no idea why he did that. 

You grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him down for another kiss. Biting his lower lips, you licked them. A groan escaped his mouth. His hands worked their way to the back of your dress and in one swift move, your zipper opened. You got up resting on your elbows while he pulled the strap down leaving you bare in front of him. The cold air hit your hardened nipple. He latched his mouth onto your left nipple sucking and tugging it, while his other hand massaged your right breast. Breathy moans left your mouth as you arched your back, your breasts prodding further into his face.

He left the nipple with a pop sound, hands grabbing the waistbands of your lace panties, he pulled them down your legs. His hands cupped your core. "Already wet for me, baby?" He said moving his fingers along your stretches. You let out a shaky moan. He suddenly pulled two fingers inside your which caused you to grab his shoulders. You arched your back while he pumped them in and out. He added another finger and your eyes rolled back. "Taking my fingers so well" He cooed. His mouth captured your neck once again sucking onto the skin. you felt a familiar knot forming in your abdomen. "I-I am c-cuming" you stuttered, coming all over his fingers. 

Jungkook took his fingers out and got on his knees. He licked your now sensitive bud which caused you to arch your back dangerously. "Oh, my g-god," you said in a high-pitched voice. He licked your cum off of your core. You tried closing your thighs out of sensitivity. He grabbed your thighs to keep them from closing. He started licking your wet slick folds, you moaned so loud that you were sure if he had neighbors, they could hear them. Your hands found their way to his hair, you bucked your hips, his face stuffing in between your legs. He pressed his tongue against your clit, hands kneading your breasts.

His tongue smoothly glided inside your slick folds as he started pushing in and out. Series of moans left as you felt his tongue inside you. You felt your climax build up rather quickly that you expected and soon enough you were coming on his face.

He got up and kissed you, letting you taste yourself. As he took of his clothes, you saw the definite bulge on his boxers. Pulling them down his cock hit his abdomen as you admired his length and thickness. His dick aligned with your entrance as it brushed the folds making you whimper from the sensitivity. 

Slowly pushing himself in, he caressed you cheeks, removing the hairs which stuck to your face. You nodded as he started moving slowly, groaning to the way your walls enclosed around him. He picked up his pace, thrusting in a fast rhythmic motion. 

You let out a high pitched moan which lowkey would have sounded like a scream if it was not you naked under him with his dick buried inside you. You face crunched up in pleasure as Jungkook picked up his pace, continuously hitting a spot which he assumed as your g-spot from the way you face twisted. 

You held onto the sheets tight as he continued his abuse on your pussy, mind to fucked to think. You started bucking your hips, his cock hitting deeper. As you felt another orgasm coming over your started clenching around him. “I’m clo-close” you said breathlessly. He continued thrusting, moaning out loud. “Now” 

That was all it took for you to come all over his cock. The feeling of getting to finally release was something you could never describe but it was close to somewhat feeling like you layed on a cloud, if that was imaginable. 

Letting out loud grunts Jungkook pulled out as his came all over your stomach. Cupping your core, he pushed two fingers in trying to keep the cum from spilling out, causing your to move around trying to get out of his hold. Chuckling, he pulled himself out of you.

He made his way to the bathroom, collecting some tissue. Cleaning first you and them himself, he tossed the sheet out of the bed, it landing somewhere on the floor. 

You lay there, practically limb as you let Jungkook put an over(really over)sized shirt on you. Putting on some sweatpants himself, he got inside the covers next to you. You snuggled closed to him, finally letting sleep take over you. 

-

You groaned loudly as the sound of your phone ringing woke you up from a very comfortable sleep. You looked around to see Jungkook sleeping peacefully next to you, one hand wrapped around your waist. Smiling, you took the phone seeing missed calls and texts from your best friend, Hana.

[Yesterday, 11:35pm] Hanaaaaa: WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU? 

[Yesterday, 11:40pm] Hanaaaaa: Y/N pick up your phone.

[Yesterday, 11:41pm] Hanaaaaa: Do you have nothing better to do than to worry me? PICK UP THE DAMN PHONE!!!!

[Today, 12:00am] Hanaaaaa: Atleast give me a call when you see these. 

[Today, 9:33am]Hanaaaaa: So I assume you haven’t seen my texts yet. I’m gonna have to call the police if you don’t yk. So REPLY BACK!

[Today, 10:40am] Hanaaaaa: KIM Y/N! WTF? WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU DOING WITH JEON JUNGKOOK???? OF BTS???? YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW WHO HE IS!!!

sent attachment: img.jpg

“BTS’s singer, Jeon Jungkook, spotted outside his mansion with a girl, whom we assume might just be his girlfriend. The singer is known to have a reputation to be a ladies man, and has been seen with many women before. But this might be the first time he has been spotted with a women in front of his house. He never brings girls to his home but always takes them to his penthouse. So is this a new start for the singer and possibly the mystery women? 

READ MORE TO FIND OUT.”

-

tags: @mwitsmejk

[goldentournesol]

Truth or Dare

(Spencer Reid x fem!Reader)

The one where Spencer is married with children and JJ confesses her love for him. Length: 2.7k A/N: this is technically a bonus chapter of The Receptionist and the Profiler but can definitely be read as a standalone. this is my take on the JJ confession, enjoy! don’t be shy, leave a comment or reblog! masterlist

Y/N furiously clicked her mouse in response to her computer screen lagging. She released an exasperated sigh and placed her head into her hands. She could practically feel the bags under her eyes increase in size and depth as she tried to regain control of her breathing. Raising two children and being the BAU’s liaison was proving to be extremely difficult, she couldn’t go out into the field or travel with the team as much. After what happened with Cat Adams, she had a hard time leaving Emelia and Adaline. Emily only requested her help as a liaison in the field when she absolutely needed it, anything else could be taken care of from Quantico. Her head pounded against her palms and her only reprieve from her incessant headache was closing her eyes. She must have dozed off in her office because the next thing she knew, she was waking up to a warm hand squeezing her shoulder.

She shot up in her seat, heart beating at an alarming rate until she was met with her husband’s eyes. Her shoulders instantly relaxed, “You’re back.” She said with relief, standing to wrap him in a tight hug.

“Are you okay?” Spencer asked into her shoulder, squeezing her tighter than usual.

She fought back a yawn and nodded, “Yeah, I’m just exhausted.” She pulled back and rested her hands on his face to inspect for injuries and found none on his face. A bandaged hand wrapped around one of her wrists and she gasped, “What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter, it’s not that deep, just a little gash.” Spencer said dismissively, his thumb rubbing against her wrist. “Let’s go home.” She nodded and quickly packed her things, eager to see her two baby girls.

On her way out, she noticed JJ and Rossi speaking in hushed tones. She managed to wave at them as she and Spencer made their way to the elevator. Rossi waved back, JJ looked away. Y/N had thought nothing of it, perhaps this had been a hard case on her. At least they had Rossi’s wedding tomorrow to look forward to and unwind a little. The girls would be with a babysitter and Y/N was looking forward to dressing up and hopefully getting a little (a lot) wine drunk.

Spencer was silent the entire way home, which wasn’t uncommon, so again, Y/N had thought nothing of it. As soon as they made it through the door, Emelia and Adaline came running up to the door, squealing with glee. Each parent scooped up a baby girl and showered them with kisses until they switched. 

Here, with a beautiful healthy daughter in his arms, he could forget about all the confusion of JJ’s confession. Spencer usually dealt with these difficult things on his own and in his head. He hadn’t had time to process it fully to bring it to his wife. He would deal with it later, right now, all he wanted was to spend time with his three favorite girls. Y/N hadn’t noticed anything different in the way Spencer was acting around the girls, but each hug he gave her felt a little tighter. She appreciated it and was definitely not about to complain about receiving tighter hugs from her husband.

The suspicions began the next day at Rossi’s wedding. With the girls not serving as a distraction, Y/N began to see the signs of Spencer retreating into himself. She hadn’t heard all the details of the last case yet, but Emily will soon let her know.

Emily was in the middle of giving a speech when Y/N snuck a look at Spencer beside her. He was politely listening, but everything about his eyes let her know that he was elsewhere. She caught JJ’s eye across the room, it seems as though JJ was staring at her husband as well. Before Y/N could ask with her eyes, JJ had looked away once more, the aversion of her gaze hinting at shame. A sinking feeling resided in her chest. 

She leaned towards him, linking their arms together, her heart strings intertwining with his in some metaphysical sense. Her sudden affection made him turn to her and send her a small smile. He quieted down the question in her eyes with a tender kiss to her cheek, knowing for a fact that the woman across the room watched what happened, a silent declaration of what he chose, what he will always choose.

Before they knew it, the music began blaring with Luke, Matt, and Penelope stealing the show with their dance moves. Y/N couldn’t contain her laughter as she watched them all prance around. In true Garcia fashion, she approached her and pulled her up to begin dancing. Y/N looked back towards Spencer for help but he just laughed and encouraged her to dance. All too soon, the music morphed into a slow paced rhythm. Turning around to ask Spencer to dance, she found the seat to be empty. Eyes flitting to the bar, she found Spencer and JJ in the middle of a conversation. 

“Hey, you can dance with me!” Tara said, whisking Y/N away from the scene. Y/N sent her a small grateful smile, but her curiosity was heavy.

“Is JJ okay? Did something happen?” Y/N asked Tara as they slow danced together. Tara was visibly taken aback by the question, she thought Spencer would have told Y/N about what had happened by now, but she decided that it was not her story to tell.

“Yeah, JJ’s totally fine.” Tara said dismissively and began steering Y/N away from that conversation. They soon broke apart to gather around the cake. Y/N was only half paying attention until she saw JJ take her place next to Will and was alerted of Spencer’s presence as he placed his hands on her hips from behind. She leaned into his warmth and let it go for the final time that night, she would ask about it when they were alone. But by the time the night ended, JJ was not on Y/N’s list of important things to remember. She was a little bit past tipsy and Spencer practically had to drag her out to their car.

The weekend went by smoothly, Spencer had his head buried in mountains of papers from his students even though Y/N told him that he could read them online and save so much paper. The weekend had come and gone and they were back in the office in the blink of an eye. The awkwardness between the two lifelong friends resumed. JJ was arguably the closest person to Spencer on the team (besides Y/N of course), so she found it more than weird that the two were actively avoiding each other. 

Lunch time came around and Y/N had had enough of it, she snuck into Penelope’s office.

“Hey, sunshine!” Penelope greeted, taking a hefty bite out of her donut.

“Hey.” Y/N said, leaning against the desk adjacent to Penelope’s, stirring her coffee.

“What’s going on?” Penelope stared at her knowingly. Y/N immediately put the coffee down and stared at Penelope.

“Did something happen between JJ and Spence on the last case?” Y/N asked directly, deciding that beating around the bush would help no one.

Y/N didn’t miss the slight widening of Penelope’s eyes, “Wh-what? Why would you ask that?”

“They’ve been acting really awkward around each other and JJ’s been avoiding me like the plague.” Y/N huffed. 

Penelope panicked, stuttering out, “I uh, I really think you should talk to Spencer.”

“No one’s telling me anything! Not you, not Tara! Should I be worried?” She asked, exasperated.

“Honestly? No, I don’t think so. Spencer loves you.” Penelope said surely.

Spencer loves you.

What does that even mean?

Y/N turned on her heel, leaving her coffee and marched all the way to Spencer’s desk. The carpet drowned out the clickity clack of her heels. Spencer raised his head from his files to smile at her.

“My office, now.” Y/N said simply, her tone neither angry nor cool, his smile retreating as he followed her like a puppy. Matt and Luke shared a knowing look between them and pretended to focus on their work so as to not get caught in the line of fire.

She closed the door and the blinds, crossing her arms and turning to see him taking a seat, “Care to explain why Garica just felt the need to assure me that my husband loves me? Or to explain why you and JJ have been acting so weird and having secret conversations? Or maybe why she’s been acting like I don’t exist for the past 3 and a half days?”

For a moment, Spencer looked like a child who had been caught stealing cookies out of the cookie jar, then his face returned to an unnerving mask of calm. This mask made her panic even more.

“Does this have anything to do with the hostage situation you two were in?” Y/N asked, she had just gone over the report that morning, but it had little to no details.

Spencer took a deep breath and rested both hands on his thighs, in any other circumstance, Y/N might have been tempted to sit across his lap and kiss him until they were both red in the face. But not right now, right now she needed answers.

“Yes, well--okay, yes. Something did happen. I promise I was going to tell you, but it never seemed like the right time to bring it up, I didn’t want to bring it up at home around the girls, and I didn’t want to bring it up here either.” Spencer said, leaning back to rest against the chair.

“What happened?” Y/N took a seat across from him, no longer feeling the need to attack, but rather to understand.

“JJ and I were being held hostage. The unsub, Casey, was about to shoot JJ and me. He told her to reveal something that she’d never say aloud and she…” Spencer swallowed, trailing off. Y/N leaned forward, already expecting where this was going.

“She told me that she’s always loved me and that she was just too scared to say it before.” He spoke softly, meeting her eyes.

Y/N blinked slowly, “Bullshit.”

Spencer furrowed his eyebrows at her.

“Are you sure she wasn’t just saying that in front of the unsub to get him to back down? Are you sure it was real?” Y/N said, standing up from her seat. She paced around her room, trying to piece together any evidence from the past few years that could back up that claim.

JJ had been the one to push Y/N and Spencer together. JJ couldn’t have had all these feelings for Spencer. What about Will? Henry? Michael? They were her and Spencer’s Godchildren for crying out loud. Y/N’s brain was going a hundred miles a minute. Spencer watched her pace around the small office.

“I, I don’t know. It seemed real.” Spencer wished what he had to say would calm his wife, but he really didn’t know at this point.

“Do you…” she swallowed, the question heavy on her tongue, “do you feel the same?” The tears were ready, resting at her waterline, waiting for the call. Her insecurities were ready to take over.

“No!” Spencer objected, standing from his seat. Normally, his defensive reply would have made her suspicious, but the look of utter shock and hurt on his face quelled any doubt that arose.

“No, I don’t. I love you. I have always loved you. God, you know this, I’ve loved you even when you weren’t mine to love. I’ve loved you since I was just a baby faced profiler and you were just a receptionist. I will never stop loving you and the girls, Y/N.” He said definitively, walking towards his wife and grabbing her clammy hands in his. He pressed a gentle kiss to each of her hands, staring into her teary eyes.

The cavern in her chest began to patch itself up as he looked at her that way. She had no choice but to believe him. 

“Okay, I believe you.” She smiled, a tear escaping. He reached up to tenderly swipe it away. With a simple tilt of his chin, he captured her lips in an intense, passionate kiss and like all of their kisses, he took her breath away. But something about the desperation in this kiss made it hard for her lungs to perceive air. He had a point to prove.

A few moments of silence passed between them and Y/N took a deep breath, “I should talk to JJ.” 

Spencer hadn’t pulled away yet, “It’s your choice, my love.” He placed a soft kiss to the center of her forehead and stepped back to catch her eye, “Are we okay?”

Y/N couldn’t help but smile at him, “Yes, we’re okay. Can you ask JJ to come in after you leave?”

With a nod and another kiss, he left the office to go summon JJ. Y/N took her seat at her desk and folded her hands in anticipation, the undeniable and unrelenting feelings of anger and jealousy coursing right underneath her skin.

A gentle knock sounded throughout the small office and Y/N invited her to take a seat before her.

“Listen, Y/N, if this is about what I said back--” JJ began, but Y/N wasn’t interested in any of the formalities.

“Did you mean it?” Y/N asked, making direct eye contact. JJ was taken aback at the similarities between Y/N’s question and Spencer’s. They had both asked in the same way. She wasn’t ready back then. But she is now.

“Yes..” JJ whispered, averting her gaze once more. The gaze of the wife of the man she thought she loved was too heavy to face straight on.

“Yes, what? Do you love my husband?” Y/N spoke with an unrecognizable sharp edge to her voice.

“Yes, I love him. I’ve always known it. Things just got too messy too quickly. I have Will and the boys and I would never ever give them up. Spence-- Spencer has you and the girls and I could never dream of taking him away from you.” JJ spoke clearly, her eyes reddening and glistening with unshed tears.

“You are the perfect wife, I watched him fall in love with you. You’re also the best mother to his children, it’s hard not to be jealous of you.” JJ continued. The sinking feeling returned to her chest.

“You have nothing to be jealous of, I’m just doing my best. You’re one of the greatest mothers I have ever known. I need you to tell me that this is where it ends, JJ. I cannot afford the stress.” Y/N replied.

“This is where it ends, I promise. It’s over. He has you and Emelia and Adaline and I have Will, Henry, and Michael. If we were ever meant to be, then it would have happened. He deserves you, after everything he’s been through. He deserves you.” She said tearfully, wiping away stray tears.

Y/N stood from her seat and walked around her desk to embrace her in a tight hug. JJ cried into her shoulder, “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“I know. It’s okay, we’re okay.” Y/N rubbed her shoulder, pulling away.

“Are things going to be awkward now?” JJ chuckled, blowing her nose.

“Only if you keep avoiding me.” Y/N joked back, JJ promised she wouldn’t and excused herself to get back to work.

Y/N followed her out and stopped at her door. Leaning against her door frame, she caught her husband’s eye across the bullpen and sent him a smile and a nod.

It’ll be alright.

They’ll be alright.

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Swimming Lessons.

(1-1)

Short story # 9

2,350 - Words

Fandom - Red Dead Redemption 2

Pairing - John Marston X Reader

Summary - Based entirely on Imagine # 662, which reads. imagine taking it upon yourself to teach John how to swim.

Warnings - Light smut, its just a handjob. (Cause I'm a horny bitch, especially when it come to Mr. John Marston.)

----

Looking to her left (Y/n) began snickering quietly when she noticed John snacking away on candy. "What?" John cocked a confused brow at her, still munching away. "You and your candy." (Y/n) shook her head with a grin. "What, I like 'em." John frowned, hesitating his chewing. "Oh nothing, I think it's sweet." (Y/n) joked making John roll his eyes playfully. "Ya got any to spare for your favorite girl?" (Y/n) hummed as she rode beside him, batting her lashes. "Oh I don't give Grace candy." John retorted as he pat his horses mane, his words making (Y/n) huff with a frown. "I see how it is." (Y/n) crossed her arms, spurring her horse into a trot. "Now hold on darling." John called out spurring on his own horse. "I was only playin' sugar." John nudged her shoulder, holding out a few pieces of candy. "And here I am, going out of my way to help you. And what do I get in return, the nerve of some people." (Y/n) sassed turning her nose up at his offer, a fit of giggles erupting from her when John practically pulled her onto his lap, hugging her tightly. "I'm sorry darlin'." John whispered into her hair as he nuzzled into her neck. "Oh alright, I forgive you." (Y/n) sighed playfully, adjusting herself back onto her horse, afterwards leaning over to plant a kiss on John's scared cheek. "Here sugar." John hummed as he grasped her hand, pushing a few pieces of candy into the palm of her hand. "Awe thanks honey." (Y/n) cooed making John chuckle at her, smiling contently as they continued their journey.

--

A few hours had passed and the sun was beginning to set. "We're almost there, but the path isn't the safest to travel at night, we should set up camp then continue in the morning." (Y/n) suggested. "Alright." John agreed with a nod of his head. "Where you wanting to set up?" John asked as they trotted across a bridge. "There's a clearing up ahead, looks like a good a spot as any." (Y/n) pointed to the clearing in the distance. "Sounds like a plan." John agreed as they neared the sight. "Where is it your wanting to go tomorrow?" John asked with curiosity. "Dodds bluff just south of widows Rock, there's an abandoned shack we can set up in." (Y/n) answered his question. "Why there?" John asked with curiosity. "Several reasons, one because the water up there is beautiful, and always a comfortable temperature in the summer, plus we're far away from our friends, so you don't have to worry about them teasing us." (Y/n) explained as they moved from the road to the grass to find the best spot to set up camp. "What exactly are we doing, that they would tease us about?" John eyed his girlfriend wearily. "I'm gonna teach you how to swim finally." (Y/n) stated as she dismounted, her words causing John to freeze up. "Swim?" He muttered in worry. "Yes John, swim." (Y/n) laughed softly as she unpacked her things. "I-I um..." John stammered nervously. "John sweetie, we'll take it slow I promise." (Y/n) assured him as she approached his side, resting a reassuring hand onto his knee. John smiled softly, his heart melting. "You're the best thing to ever happen to me." John whispered softly, his confession making (Y/n) blush under his tender gaze.

--

"So darling, how long you plannin' on us staying out here?" John asked as they sat up the camp, one tent for them, and the other to keep their supplies dry if it rains in the night. "However long it takes until your able to swim on your own confidently." (Y/n) hummed as she moved on to feed the horses some grain. "That could take awhile." John chuckled nervously. "That's okay, I let Arthur and Dutch know we wouldn't be back for awhile." (Y/n) shrugged casually. "How'd you manage that?" John asked as he finished up the last of the work. "I found a few gold bars while out exploring, and I donated two of them." (Y/n) hummed as she brushed her horse, John joining her to brush his own horse. "How many did you find?" John asked with astonishment, both surprised and impressed that she found any gold bars to begin with. "Four." (Y/n) smiled at him, a certain gleam in her eyes. "And what are you planning on doing with the other two?" John asked with a curious gaze. "Well someone real special has a birthday coming up." (Y/n) mused with a playful grin, making John feel all giddy inside like a little kid. "Darlin' you're just to much sometimes." John shook his head with a smile, making (Y/n) giggle softly. "You love me for it." (Y/n) shrugged, gasping when John hugged her from behind. "I love you for more than that baby girl." John cooed as he nuzzled into her soft hair, inhaling her natural scent.

--

When morning came around (Y/n) was practically bouncing with excitement, while John sluggishly followed after her. Having broke down camp and packed up, the couple continued their journey. The small road they took seep and narrow in some spots, making John understand why they didn't risk riding on last night. "There's the shack." (Y/n) pointed to the little shanty, a wide smile upon her pretty face. "The water looks kinda fast." John pointed out as they neared the small building. "It's slower upstream." (Y/n) hummed as she dismounted her horse. "If you say so." John murmured skeptically. "Are you sure no one lives here?" He added as he dismounted. "Yeah I've come up here a hundred times, no one's ever here." (Y/n) shrugged while unpacking their supplies. John wasn't convinced however and removed his bolt action rifle from his saddle, approaching the house first. "Let me just check first." John explained when (Y/n) eyed him funny. "Oh alright." She smiled up at him before he turned his attention to the door, which he pushed open slowly with his rifle. Humming with satisfaction John turned back to (Y/n), shouldering his rifle. "You were right, it's abandoned." He walked down the steps of the porch, taking the supplies from (Y/n)'s hands to take inside. "I would say I'm always right, but you've proven me wrong plenty of times." (Y/n) laughed as they continued their work, her words making John chuckle. "Oh you mean like that time you thought you wouldn't like it when I stick my-" (Y/n) threw an apple at him, cutting him off. "Yes John, like then." She sassed with pinkness in her cheeks, making John laugh a hardy laugh. "You walked funny for three days, but not once did you complain." He teased with a grin, making (Y/n) whine as she hid her face in her hands. "Can we please stay on task here?" She groaned between her fingers, making John beam with pride. "Sure thing sugar." He mused into her ear, relishing in the sight of her shuddering from his voice alone.

--

After everything was dealt with, and the horses tended to (Y/n) led John a little ways upstream. "Are you sure about this?" John asked as they began stripping out of the majority of their clothes. "What of someone sees us?" He added with a nervous glance. "We're far from the main road, and people don't really use this road. We'll be fine, and even if someone sees, it doesn't matter. What we're doing is none of their business." (Y/n) assured her lover, pecking his lips to comfort him. "Hey I want a real kiss." John pouted as he followed after (Y/n), who was now hip deep in water, having gone into the small stream that connects into to river. "Then come get it cowboy." (Y/n) teased as John stood on the back, having an internal debate. Gathering his courage he made up his mind, and began walking into the shallow stream. "The things I do for love." John huffed when he reached (Y/n), his hands instinctively resting on her hips. "I've got you baby." (Y/n) hummed before connecting their lips, the sweet feeling of her lips against his detracting him from his fear of the water. John's grip tightened when she began walking backwards into deeper water, their lips still connected in a passionate kiss. "Wait." John broke the kiss with a strained voice, looking at the water beyond her shoulder. "Hey John look at me." (Y/n) grasped his face between her hands, turning his attention solely to her. "Do you trust me?" She asked as she peered into his dark eyes. "Of course I trust you, I trust you with my life." John proclaimed with a series tone, knowing she'd never hurt him or betray his trust. "Follow me, and stay focused on me, I'll keep you safe." (Y/n) smiled softly, slowly walking back towards the river. John nodded his head, his grasp on her hips still tight as he followed her obediently. His breath came out shaky as he breathed through his mouth, his eyes still locked onto (Y/n)'s. With each careful step they moved deeper and deeper into the water, until the water rest now at chest height. "How you doing John?" (Y/n) asked as she stroked his hair back, smiling at him reassuringly. "I'm alright, just need a moment." He admitted his hands noticeably shaking against her hips. "Take all the time you need baby." (Y/n) cooed as she leaned forward, catching his lips to distract his mind.

When they broke for air John had relaxed quite a bit, now ignoring the sounds of rushing water, he focused solely on the woman before him. "I love you." He murmured softly, so touched that she wanted to take the time to teach him how to swim, something no one else had ever tried. "I love you too John." (Y/n) leaned into his chest, resting her head into the crook of his neck. They stood their in a relaxed tranquil state in the water, allowing John the time he needed to truly relax. "Let's keep going." He suggested softly. "How about we stay here, so you know you can stand up if you begin to panic." (Y/n) countered his suggestion, slowly lowering herself into the cool water until she was on her knees. "Okay." John muttered to himself as he followed suit, slowly lowering himself. "You're doing good." (Y/n) praised when he finally sank down before her, the water now up to his neck. "I'm terrified." John admitted with a shaky voice, wrapping his arms around (Y/n)'s hips now. "Relax sugar, I'm here." (Y/n) hummed as she rubbed his back soothingly, smiling when his back muscles relaxed under her touch. "You know I might just have to reward you for doing so good." (Y/n) mused with a suggestive tone, her words causing John's breath to hitch in his throat. "R-really?" He stammered with surprise, his excitement building in an instant at the lewd thoughts popping into his head. "Yeah." (Y/n) hummed softly, one hand slowly drifting under the water, and down his body. "(Y/n)." John murmured quietly, his cock hardening as her fingers brushed against it. "All for me?" (Y/n) smirked before slipping her hand into his underwear, grasping his manhood by the base, and giving it a gentle squeeze. "All for you." John nodded his head in agreement, his hips thrusting forward, desperate for more friction.

(Y/n) giggled softly as she began stroking his length, rubbing her thumb against the underside of his cock firmly, from time to time. John's mind went hazy with pleasure, his eyes closing as he rest his forehead against (Y/n)'s shoulder. "Just relax baby, I'll take care of you. Make you feel good." (Y/n) cooed and then began peppering his face and neck with kisses. "So good." John praised quietly, unaware of his surroundings anymore. (Y/n) twisted her wrist while brushing her fingers across the tip of John dick, causing a shutter to run down his back. John hissed in pleasure his cock throbbing with need, twitching a little as he neared his end. "Cum for me honey." (Y/n) encouraged picking up her pace, the erratic movements of her arm, made the water slosh around them. "(Y-Y/n)!" John stammered in a moan, ropes of cum spurting from his cock as he came undone for her. "Good job baby." (Y/n) praised her lover, still stroking his cock slowly, working him through his euphoric high. "(Y/n)." John murmured her name, pecking sloppy kisses against her neck. "John my sweet sweet John." She cooed tilting his head up to look into his eyes. "You didn't even notice." She added with a playful smile, her words causing John to take in his surroundings. His heart froze for a moment when he realized they were now much deeper in the river, his feet just barely able to touch the bottom. "See John, swimming ain't so bad." (Y/n) brushed his hair back softly, smiling at him warmly when he noticeably calmed. "Y-yeah I guess you're right." John smiled remaining relaxed when (Y/n) moved back a little, allowing him to float on his own. "It's kinda fun actually." John chuckled as he got the hang of swimming in place. "It is." (Y/n) agreed with pure joy, beyond happy to have taught John Marston how to swim. The couple spent the next three days swimming, and the next four nights making sweet love under the stars, and within the privacy of the little shack. Only leaving when John felt comfortable with swimming. The pair of them worn by the time they got back to camp, Arthur watching them excuse themselves straight to bed with a knowing smile.

[1kook]

disney+ & bust

this is part of my netflix & chill collection !

summary; There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb. It’s not. It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door.  warnings; arguments, feelings of insecurity, bit of asshole jk, smut in the forms of degradation, dumbification, choking, fingering, spit kink, self punishment, unprotected but [ passionate ] sex, jk losing his cool, return of mean jk, he is actually an emotional mess in this one wtf miscellaneous; ANGST, anniversaries, the L word😳, app developer kook, rip ‘pretty girl’ </3, we all become phineas and ferb stans word count; 13k !!

notes; me: *writes couple who’s whole arc is being silly* y’all: MAKE THEM SUFFER GIVE US ANGST!! u ask I deliver so now we all suffer 😐 ngl it was hard writing this fic n u might notice there’s some parts that seem weird n that’s bc this was TWO fics w diff wording but I ended up mixing them bc I’m insane. still had a lot of fun! felt like I challenged myself!! not proofread bc when I say we suffer we SUFFER

please let me know what you think!!! a simple ask goes a long way <3

previous part: kissanime & foreplay

Approximately one week after The Bullet Bestie’s rise to prominence, Jungkook grows annoyed with it as his weirdly competitive nature rears its ugly head the more and more orgasms that little vibrator coaxes out of you. It turns on a weird switch in him, something slightly stuck up and snooty that he’ll never admit to out loud but is there nonetheless. By the following Friday, The Bullet Bestie is nestled deep in your garbage can and Jungkook’s back to pleasuring you with his tongue and fingers alone.

He had those moments in him, the ones where he liked to think he was better than any and everyone else, and occasionally they manifested against inanimate objects like a bullet vibrator.

Despite his polite and generally soft exterior, you catch glimpses of that cocky spirit more than anyone else. Over the past year, you’ve come to realize that Jungkook’s personality was like a coin that had been left out in the sun too long. He had this sweet and reserved nature you saw most times, a kindhearted boyfriend who adored you almost as much as you adored him. He was your angel whom you knew had a heart of gold, even if you were slowly bringing out his more childish tendencies. You knew him like the back of your hand, knew what his mom’s favorite color was and how he liked to stack the plates in his cabinet according to size and make. It was a side that was rusted from years of being out in the sun, basking in its adoring warmth, and you loved every inch about it.

And still, there was this other side to him you rarely saw. This cocky asshole who hid beneath the soft smiles and careful hands, making his appearance only through sly smirks and a tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek. He was a braggart, a man who knew his greatness yielded for no one and wanted that fact shoved down everyone’s faces. This Jungkook, this other side that never saw the light of day, was like the Hyde to his Jekyll. An unexpected, almost mean side to him that only dared make his appearance when his exhilaration was at an all-time high. Like when he was fucking you into another dimension, or kicking your ass in Mario Kart, or like now, when he was receiving an award at an annual tech ceremony.

On the eve of your one year anniversary, Jungkook’s company invites him to an awards ceremony for other web and app developers like him. It’s a grand event, filled with all the biggest nerds in the developing industry here to present the baby nerds with awards. Jungkook lies somewhere in the middle of the spectrum, both a seasoned player and a rookie all at once. He spends the night tolling you around in a floor-length gown and fangirling over all the “legends” in the room.

You know next to none of these people and none of their accomplishments but still pretend you respect them to hell and back. By the end of the main dinner, you’re sympathizing with Barbie’s ever-smiling features because your cheeks feel sore.

Towards the end of the night, Jungkook wins that random award— okay, who were you fooling? He wins the Platinum Mobile Standard of Excellence Award, recognizing him for all the hard work you’ve seen him put in this past year. It’s probably the highest recognition he can receive at this point in his career. It was an esteemed award that was bestowed upon only the most innovative developer of the year among tech companies, something Jungkook had briefly mentioned he always wanted. It’s basically the equivalent of placing first place in his field, but given Jungkook’s competitive industry and his young age, you think it’s like telling all these old Facebook lords to suck his big fat cock. (But that was your job when you got home.)

He gives a short little thank you speech, promising to work hard and own up to this title. The people around you are swooning, obviously endeared with his soft puppy dog features and melodic voice. They don’t know him like you do, don’t know that uppity twist to his grin like you do. It doesn’t slip off his face even when he steps down off the stage, arms wide open as he comes barreling towards you. Even with you in his arms, the congratulations that are thrown from every direction ring loudly in his ears and swell that ego of his.

The night goes like that for the most part, Jungkook’s acquaintances approaching him every few minutes to rain down their praises. He goes a little crazy at the open bar after a while, shoving the gold trophy into your arms as his beloved work seniors whisk him off for drinks. You don’t mind because you resigned yourself to a night of playing Jungkook’s perfectly perfect partner anyway, watching him politely mingling with his coworkers. Despite his earlier success, you know he won’t brag about it verbally. No, he’ll wait until the two of you get home—your place or his—and remind you how amazing he is with a quick snap of his hips.

As you said, he’ll never boast aloud.

However, that doesn’t mean you won’t.

“That’s my boyfriend,” you explain to the seventh person that greets you that night, excitedly pointing to where said boyfriend was slowly losing all sense of self by the bar. You don’t know anyone here beside Jungkook, and you’re pretty sure no one in their hammered minds is going to remember who you are anyway, so a little gloating never hurt anyone. “He won the ‘I’m Better Than Everyone Else’ award tonight,” you emphasize to the tipsy woman beside you who only laughs at your exaggeration. You assume she’s like you, accompanying one of the many developers here, because as soon as you finish boasting about Jungkook she moves to brag about someone too.

Truth be told, you spend the whole night re-analyzing the Zootopia movie you saw on Disney+ the other night in your head. So if the little fox fellow didn’t control himself would the city have fallen to ruins? Why was the useless sheep girl so evil and bitter? Why was there an unreal amount of romantic tension between the fox and the rabbit? Whatever, you’ll have to rewatch it some other night, and with your new Disney+ account, you could watch it anywhere you wanted to.

Now, you had never bothered to purchase a Disney+ subscription or even tried to swindle Jungkook for his password before. As far as you know, Disney+ was filled with old tv shows from your childhood, sitcoms that made you laugh when you were ten. There’s nothing wrong with that, but personally, you were a firm believer that that which was perfect should not be touched once finished; in other words, you were utterly terrified you’d rewatch an old episode of The Wizards of Waverly Place, only to find out the same joke you’ve been regurgitating for the past ten years doesn’t actually go that way.

However, the harsh reality was that Disney+ was good for a few things. Ugh, you hate when giant corporations provide decent services. Aside from Zootopia, you’ve watched about every animated media on there as well, all of which you replay in your mind as Jungkook has the time of his life with these nerds, knocking back champagne glass after champagne glass.

Anyway, the night ends a little past midnight, and Jungkook who is buzzed on alcohol and high on exhilaration ends up calling an Uber for the two of you. Your apartment— the new one he had not only helped you hunt for but also helped you move into, greatly cutting the cost of movers out with those glistening biceps and thick thighs —is still going through her rebellious phase where the potted plants are trying to take over, courtesy of Kim Namjoon. So for now, there’s a potted plant in an awkward corner that both of you stub your toe against on your way to your bedroom.

You’re thinking Jungkook is going to go to town tonight, given the fact he’s on Cloud 9 and has had his ego stroked by a bunch of dudes for the past couple hours. Maybe you guys can try out the hot role-playing scenario you saw on GirlsWay a few weeks ago, or the handcuffs you impulsively bought from Amazon one Monday night. Or maybe, and this one really makes you flutter, he’ll let you fully take the reins for once.

All those lewd fantasies end up being for naught because just as you shimmy out of your gown (with the help of his hands, of course) and turn to climb him like a tree, he’s on the other side of the room getting your makeup remover out for you. And also talking. A lot. And way more than usual.

“Did you see him, babe?” he sighs, dare you to say, dreamily, handing you the cotton pads as he begins pulling a million pins out of your hair. Slowly and with a lot of confusion, you pull your fake lashes off and begin cleaning your face. “He was amazing.”

“Uh-huh,” you say, having absolutely no idea who ‘he’ is or why Jungkook is so in love with him and not you at this very moment. “But so were you,” you add. Perfect. Stroke his ego and then stroke his cock.

Jungkook sputters at your praise. He’s carefully placing your hairpins on your thigh, cheeks flaming red every time he leans over you. “Was I?” he murmurs, voice sweet in that cute little way it always gets when he’s downed one too many shots of whiskey, enough to be buzzed but not enough to be wasted.

You turn and the pins clatter to the floor and across the bedsheets. “Yes,” you confirm, ignoring his sad huff at the mess you’ve made. Instead, you grab him by the collar of that pink button-up he taunted you with all night. “You were fucking incredible and I think incredible men deserve to have their dick sucked.”

Jungkook laughs at your vulgar statement, holding you gently by the hips as you climb into his lap. “Is that so?” The soft, shy persona is gone now, replaced by the gentle stirring beneath his dress pants. You nod hurriedly, plopping down on his lap and running your hands through his styled hair.

“Yes,” you confirm, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Luckily for you, I know this nymphomaniac who would gladly gobble up your cock at your every command.”

He snorts just as you push him into his back, nose adorably scrunched up. “First of all, you know I hate that word,” he chuckles, finally gracing you with a sweet peck that only makes you want him to fuck you into the fifth dimension. “Secondly, please don’t ever say you’ll gobble my cock up ever again.”

Something inside of you squeals with excitement as he rolls the two of you over, firm body pressing down on yours. “Oh, baby,” you groan, lazily throwing a leg over his hip. Jungkook grins and then decides to entertain you for a few minutes with a sloppy kiss.

You say a few minutes because just as things are heating up, he pulls away. He smiles apologetically. “As much as I’d love to be here with you, I actually have an early morning tomorrow.”

You frown at the sudden change in events. “Huh? They’re gonna make you work the morning after a Gatsby party?” you gasp, sitting up as he gets off of you. With every step he takes away from the bed your heart breaks a little more. “They can’t do that— that’s illegal!”

From the doorway he levels you with a comically raised brow. “No, it’s not.”

You scamper after him down the hall, watch the muscles in his back flex as he pulls his suit jacket on. “You can’t work on our anniversary— that’s illegal!” you offer instead.

He stops at your front door, feet squeezed back into his shoes. “Baby, it’s not,” he rolls his eyes, leaning down to peck your forehead. “It was either I work in the morning or work at night,” he explains, giving your messy hair a soothing caress. He’s looking at you with those eyes, the ones that make your heart lodge itself into your throat and make life a tightrope experience. There’s a devastatingly lovesick part of you that wants this moment, this kind face, to be engraved into your mind for the rest of your life. You want this to be the first and last thought you have and nothing else: just Jungkook’s adoring gaze on you for the rest of time.

The moment ends too soon when he flutters one last peck against your lips. “I’ll be done in the afternoon, okay?”

You pout. “Okay, your place?” you huff, making sure to get one last octopus squeeze around his waist. He nods. “Promise you won’t be late?”

The corners of his gaze soften. “You know I won’t,” he smiles, leaning down to bump your noses together playfully. “Can’t stay away from my pretty girl too long. Besides, I have a gift for you tomorrow.”

It’s with that sentiment and a hammering heart that you let him go. With Jungkook gone, there’s really nothing for you to do now. You took the next two days off in preparation for your anniversary sex, so you don’t have to head to sleep early like usual.

With nothing else planned, you decide on rewatching that Zootopia movie that had plagued you all night, ready to dissect every plot hole to hell and back. You don’t think Jungkook’s seen this movie yet so you add it to your long list of animated movies you’re forcing him to watch.

Part of you is actually really surprised Jungkook left. Well, kinda sorta, very, but not really. Jungkook was a good boy, that much was obvious. He took his job seriously, and if his job wanted him to come in at the asscrack of dawn, then he’d come in before the sun even rose. He was a goody-two-shoes, but even so, you were occasionally able to bring out that darker side in him.

Jungkook working, like actually working in an office setting, was pretty rare though. The dude had a chill job that let him stay home most of the time, and essentially clock in whenever he wanted. Every now and then you were able to convince him to stay, tucking him beneath your body or the covers, depending on the night, and refusing to let him go the morning after.

Once he had eaten you out until the wee hours of the day, ravenous between your thighs, and then went to work the next morning like he hadn’t broken you. Another time you had persuaded him into watching every season of the 2017 DuckTales reboot through the night. When the alarm had rung in the middle of the season finale, he had simply gotten into your shower and gone off to work.

So maybe you were a little confident in your skills, and Jungkook slipping between your fingers tonight was a huge bummer. But there was no use crying over spilled milk, you tell yourself, flinging your bra off somewhere in the corner as you snuggle back into your sheets. You’re ready to tear this Zootopia movie apart, scene by scene.

Even though your apartment is a little cold, you’re comforted by the fact Jungkook will be here to keep you warm all day tomorrow.

All men do is lie.

Despite his promise to come home early the next day, Jungkook ends up lying. The meeting he had been in all morning— the same one that had stopped you from getting bent like a pretzel the night before —drags on well past noon. Then, Kim Namjoon, AKA Jungkook’s favorite senpai in the entire world, catches wind of Jungkook’s success last night and absolutely has to take him out to lunch to celebrate.

You scoff, glaring down at your phone and the impulsive messages you’d sent out an hour ago when Jungkook had first texted you telling you he would be late.

You whirl around to stomp off in the direction of his living room, where all of yours and Jungkook’s favorite foods were growing colder by the minute. You had spent the longest time carefully laying them out, making sure the fried chicken was closer than the pizza but not closer than the breadsticks. Truthfully it’s a nightmare. There are about eight stomach aches worth of food sitting on his coffee table, the greasy stench makes you gag and will certainly stick to your hair for weeks, but none of that mattered because it was all for your beau.

Your very late beau who was making you grow more and more agitated with each minute that passed. Ugh! How inconsiderate of him to test your patience on a day like this. You didn’t want to be upset with him, but this was your first, real milestone as a couple with him. You had wanted to spend the whole day cuddled up, maybe finally tell him how much he really meant to you— definitely not waking up alone with eyeliner crusted eyes and an aching heart.

Deciding you’re being a little too dramatic, you head into the bedroom to calm down. This was fine, you tell yourself, carefully laying out the damn near harlotrous lingerie you had yet to put on. Jungkook would come over soon and everything would be A-okay.

Except for the part it’s actually F-not okay because soon it’s nearing sunset and the food has gone cold so you’ve stocked it into the fridge, and the pretty sheer bra has a wonky wire that’s two seconds away from piercing through your heart, but that doesn’t even matter because Jungkook being late for your all-day anniversary celebration has already ripped it to shreds anyway.  

You plop down on the couch in defeat, impulsively opening up the Disney+ app to cry through another episode of Phineas and Ferb. You’ve abandoned the satin robe that came with the lingerie in favor of donning a big t-shirt that smells like him and makes your heart hurt even more. The setting sun paints the living room in muted oranges, the chirping of birds outside the soundtrack to your lonely day.

You end up watching some other cartoon on Disney+, avoiding the Marvel section because you had promised Jungkook he could be there when you lost your Marvel virginity. Well, at least one of you was good at keeping promises, you think bitterly. For a second, you think about randomly watching one of the infamous MCU films out of order just to spite him. But then you think of that soft puppy gaze and how disappointed he’d be in you.

Whatever! It wouldn’t ever match up to the way you felt now.

Anyway, you circle back. When you’re five episodes into Phineas and Ferb you hear the doorknob rattle.

You sit up just as the door swings open, visible from your spot on the couch. He meets your gaze almost immediately, big doe eyes caught in the act. What act? You’re not really sure. In fact, you don’t even know what you’re looking at when he walks in because he’s drowning in shopping bags. His lips twist into a grin. “Honey, I’m home,” he says playfully.

You don’t laugh.

Jungkook frowns, dumping all his bags down at the entrance before waddling over towards you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, coming to stand before you and cupping your face in his hands. He’s towering over you, so tall and gorgeous but for the first time, you’re not dazed by his beauty.

“Kook, you said you’d be back hours ago,” you say slowly, avoiding his gaze. You try to keep the frustration out of your voice, but you’ve had hours to dwell on it now, and those annoying cartoon characters, though charming at first, had only served to multiply your annoyance.  

Jungkook blinks, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I mean… yeah. But I got you presents?” he beams, glancing back at the mountainous pile he made by the door. You look over too. There are some luxury bags squeezed in between other shops you like, the occasional jewelers' logo on the side.

You stand with a sigh, sauntering off into the kitchen with him on your tail. “I don’t want presents,” you mumble, reaching to pour yourself a glass of water. You’re briefly aware of how childish you must seem. Jungkook hovers behind you.

“What? Yes, you do,” he says. “You had an entire wishlist on my Amazon of things you wanted.” It’s his turn to level you with an unreadable expression, slowly crossing his arms over his chest.

Your frown only deepens as you turn to match his stance against the counter. While it may be true that you did indeed have an entire list of impulsive items on his Amazon, that didn’t necessarily mean you wanted them all. Sometimes you just wanted to stare longingly at a pair of satin gloves without actually buying them. You don’t know how to explain this much to him. “They’re not…” you stop with another deep breath. “Forget it. Thank you for the presents.”

Now it’s Jungkook’s turn to question you. “What,” he says in an unimpressed tone, padding over to you before you can escape back into the living room to watch the entire princess movie collection on Disney+. “No, tell me what’s wrong.”

For some reason, that’s exactly what you don’t want to hear. “Jungkook,” you say flatly, narrowing your eyes at him. “You come home six hours after you said you would without telling me why, and normally I wouldn’t care, but today was supposed to be a special day for us.”

Jungkook reels at your bluntness. “Babe, I was out getting stuff for you. I know it’s our anniversary— that’s why I wanted to treat you,” he responds, oddly condescendingly like you’re a child who doesn’t understand what exactly he was doing.

You brush his hands away from your shoulders. “Yeah,” you huff. “Now I know that. But I spent all day waiting for you,” you stress, chest puffing as you grow more and more agitated by his inability to understand you. God, can he let you go now? At least a bunch of animated, geometrically drawn cartoons won’t question you like this and make you feel as childish as he was.

When he doesn’t say anything else you stomp back into the living room, snatching up your phone from its forgotten spot against the couch. “I’m going to bed.”

At that Jungkook seems to kickstart back to life. “What? ___, it’s barely six,” he says as he follows after you into your bedroom. You ignore him, shuffling beneath the covers. In all actuality, you’re going to bed to mope and watch more animated family shows, maybe cry under the guise of the plot just being so sad. Jungkook sits beside you just as you click back on to finish off your episode. “Baby, I don’t get it,” he sighs. “You’re always talking about how much you want this or that, and I go out and get you it all but now you’re mad?”

You bite down on your lip, eyes lasered in on the pictures moving before you. “Jungkook, just forget it.”

“No,” he says, more sternly than he’s ever been with you before. “If there’s a problem, tell me.” There’s a heavy pause, and then he says, “don’t make me waste my time guessing what’s wrong, okay?” 

“Waste your time?” you scoff, sitting up with pinched brows that you find match his. “I’m not trying to waste anyone’s time— in fact, that’s hot coming from you, Jungkook.”

He rolls his eyes. “What are you even saying? You’re mad because I took a little long getting presents, for you, might I add,” he huffs, plopping down on the edge of the mattress beside your knee. “You’re always saying you want this and that, but you can’t handle me going out to get those things? Do you hear how weird you sound?”

You whip the covers off of you. “Me talking about things doesn’t always mean I want them,” you defend.

Jungkook snorts. “Yes, it does,” he says. “Anytime you ramble about stuff for minutes like a little kid it’s because you want me to buy it for you.”

You blink. “Like a little kid?” you repeat, stunned by his comparison. Granted, you always knew you were the more childish of the two, but you never thought that would equate Jungkook thinking of you as a child. Something red and nasty flares in your chest. “Well sorry,” you spit, crossing your arms over your chest defensively, “sorry we all can’t be perfectly mature golden boys who would never see the light of day if I constantly wasn’t dragging them out.” You know it’s a somewhat low blow, especially because Jungkook’s told you before how his introverted tendencies were a sensitive issue growing up, but you can’t help it.

Jungkook groans, dropping his head into his hands. “Baby, don’t do this now,” he warns, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Stop acting like this.”

“Like how?” you spit, “like a kid?” Jungkook says nothing, leveling you with a blank stare from the corner of his eye. You roll your eyes, phone falling off your lap. Another episode of Phineas and Ferb had started, the corny opening tune filling the space between the two of you. “At least now I know what you think of me,” you mutter over the guitar riff.

“Oh my god,” Jungkook blurts, sitting up wildly. “Of course I’m gonna think of you as a stupid little kid, look at you,” he seethes, gesturing at the phone beside you. You flinch. “All you do is watch kids shows and whine whenever I wanna watch anything normal adults watch. You complain every single day about the most normal things, like your job? Why should I fucking care that you’re working a dead-end office job in a field you didn’t even study for— that’s not my problem, __!” he snaps, eyes narrowed into little slits. “I just won an award last night,” he says suddenly, voice back to its regular volume. “I’m at the height of my career and I’m only going up, but I can’t even enjoy that because I have to come home and cater to you,” he finishes, a loud scoff punctuating the final word.

You had never imagined Jungkook finally bragging about himself would be at your expense.

A beat of silence passes, the angry glint in his eyes quickly fading away the longer you don’t say anything. You sniff once, turning your head idly to the side where Phineas and Ferb is still blaring loudly from your phone speaker. Picking up the device, you throw it across the room where it hits his closet door with a terrifying bang the breaks the silence.

The sound snaps Jungkook out of whatever shock he’d been in. “Baby…” he says slowly, carefully, like you’re a caged animal that’s just escaped the zoo.

“I’m going home,” you say, also a little too calmly. You saunter over towards his closet where your shattered phone screen glares up at you as you yank a pair of sweats off a hanger. Jungkook is still frozen on the edge of the bed, watching you with wide eyes as you move about the room.

It’s when you’re in the hallway leading downstairs that Jungkook finally snaps out of his daze, scampering behind you as you descend the stairs. “Baby,” he rushes out, loudly bounding down after you, “___, wait,” he gasps, catching you by the kitchen counter collecting your keys. “I-I didn't mean that,” he rushes out, eyes wide and frantic as they flicker over your expression. “I don’t think that—I don’t, baby, please, just… let me explain, please.”

“Jungkook, let go of me,” you respond, shaking your wrist in an attempt to release yourself. He’s not even holding you tightly— he never would—but the sound of your heart pounding in your ears makes your movements jerky and erratic. “I wanna go home.”

“No,” he chokes, cornering you against the counter. “No, baby, please just listen to me, I-I—“

“You what, Jungkook?” you snap, placing a hand on his chest and forcefully pushing him away. He lets you, stepping back with a wobbly bottom lip. “You need to tell me how you’re too good for me? How much I hold you down because I wasn’t lucky enough to get a job like yours straight out of college?” He says nothing, swallowing roughly as you jab a finger into his chest. “Well let me tell you something,” you snarl, chest heaving, “I may be childish and a huge complainer, but I’m not stupid enough to let someone walk all over me like this.”

With that, you make your great escape. Truthfully, you don’t want him to see the tears in your eyes as you yank his door open, stomping down his steps and in the direction of the nearest bus stop. The door opens right after you tug it shut, painting your shadow across the sidewalk. There’s the scrambled sound of house slippers against the concrete that follows you down. “Go the fuck back inside,” you snap without missing a beat.

Sensing your obvious anger, he pauses before he can reach you. “Text me when you get home?” he calls out quietly.

“No,” you respond.

You would never admit to anyone that you spend the entire night eating a tub of mint chocolate ice cream. It’s disgusting and makes you gag, but it’s the only one you have in your apartment. And of course, it was brought over by none other than Jeon Jungkook himself a few days ago. Even when you’re trying to comfort yourself over how mean he was, on your anniversary night no less, you’re plagued by thoughts of him everywhere.

As much as you want to brush his words off, put on that cool girl exterior you’ve maintained since high school, there’s something different about this situation. You guess it’s impossible to brush off such hateful words when they come from someone you love and adore so much.

Were you too childish? You had always believed that side of you was what made your relationship with Jungkook so perfect. The two of you meshed well because of your differences, like yin and yang. So how had he been able to so easily deconstruct every inch of that balance in a matter of a few seconds? Was this perfect reality all in your head this whole time?

You want to tell yourself it was just a heat of the moment outburst from Jungkook, give him the benefit of the doubt because he’s never snapped at you like this before. Of course you’ve fought a couple of times in the past year, but neither of you had ever stooped as low as you did yesterday. Furthermore, the insecure part of your brain says he obviously felt this somewhere in his heart to bring it up at all. What he had said to you wasn’t something someone could make up on the spot.

You don’t text him when you get home, partly to spite him, but mainly because you had left your phone at his place anyway. You know he tried calling you last night because the call log is synced up to your laptop. He called on and off for about thirty minutes before he probably found your phone in his room. Whatever, he can mope in his regret for all you care

—is what you wanna say, but the longer he goes without showing himself to you the more your insecurities and hurt fester. Was this it? Was this the end of what was probably the best year of your life? It’s too painful to think about, to even consider the possibility that Jungkook might have gained a new insight last night and decided, hey, maybe this is for the best after all.

You drown yourself in an ungodly amount of sugar for breakfast, your laptop blaring yet another episode of Phineas and Ferb on the dining table. Muscle memory has you making Jungkook’s favorite pancakes before you can stop yourself, and by the time you do realize, you’ve resigned yourself to the blueberry smell anyway.

There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb.

It’s not.

It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door. You open the door with a fright, jumping back when he slumps forward and almost crashes face-first into the floor. “You didn’t call,” Jungkook cries, leaning a little too much of his weight onto you when you reach out to steady him.

The thundering of your heart slows upon registering it’s him. “Kook?” you frown, nose pinched at the ungodly stench of alcohol wafting off his clothes. “Have you been drinking?” you ask even though the answer is staring you right in the face (and in the nose).

He groans, staggering deeper into your arms. You blindly push the door shut behind him, resigning yourself to this new situation while your pancakes grow cold in the other room. “Baaaby,” he slurs, letting you guide him into the living space. He’s unceremoniously dumped onto the couch, half-opened eyes gazing up at you. “Let me,” a hiccup, “explain.”

You won’t lie. There’s a very obvious sense of discomfort sitting in your chest, torn between two paths that you don’t wish to choose between. His skin is warm and flushed like he’s just walked all the way here in this morning sun. You step over to the window that faces down onto the street below. There’s no sign of his car; you would have killed him if he ever tried to drive in this state.

“Did you walk here?” you ask instead, deciding there’s no need for one singular path, not when you can walk straight down the middle, both cleaning him and grilling him at the same time.

Jungkook’s response is delayed, head lolling from side to side as you help him out of his sweater. His skin is sweaty beneath, scorching to the touch. “Uh-huh,” he groans. Jesus, you sort of assumed but him confirming it really set things into perspective.

By no means did you and Jungkook live on opposite ends of the earth. On a good day, a drive from your place to his took about ten minutes. But walking? Easily an hour. Had he walked all the way from his place, drunk on top of that?

You brush his hair away from his face, his eyes fluttering shut at your touch. His lips are pouty yet chapped, dehydrated from the sun and the alcohol he reeks of. “Sit up for me,” you instruct, scampering off to your room for chapstick and water.

“Anything for you,” Jungkook wheezes, throat probably dryer than a desert. When you return, he’s two seconds from face planting into the coffee table and breaking that pretty face of his. You catch him with a hand on his shoulder, keeping him balanced. “Tell me what to do,” he chokes out, voice hoarse.

“Just need you to drink some water,” you say, pressing a cup against his lips. He drinks it, but a drop still dribbles down his chin.

“No,” he groans, catching your wrist in his hand when you reach up to apply some chapstick on him. “Tell me what to do,” he stresses, “to fix this. Fix us.”

His words make you pause, the tube of chapstick hovering over his plush lips. “You don’t have to do anything,” you respond quietly, trying to finish the application so you can pull away.

Jungkook doesn’t let you go. You try to look away, but there’s something about him that looks off. Maybe it’s the raw skin under his eyes, red and swollen. Or the sad droop to those same eyes that hold you captive. Or maybe it’s the subtle tremble in his hands, the fingers that hold tightly to your wrist, not to keep you there but to ground himself. “I don’t wanna lose you,” he rasps out, shakily bringing your hand to his mouth, where he presses one airy kiss to your knuckles. “Tell me ho-how to fix this and I’ll do it,” he pleads, a vulnerable look in his eyes.

Unable to withstand the sheer amount of agony on his expression, you look away. “___, please,” he chokes out, stumbling off the couch in his drunk and desperate haze until he’s kneeling in front of you. “I can’t… I can’t,” he sniffles, tears clouding those pretty eyes you’ve come to love so much. “I don’t know who I am without you.”

You clench your jaw. “You’re Jeon Jungkook,” you murmur, slipping your hand out of his hold to run through his hair. It’s knotted and a little too greasy, two things Jungkook would usually never allow. “This year’s Platinum Mobile Standard of Excellence Award recipient,” you remind him, trailing your thumb across his cheekbone when he turns to look up at you with those big Bambi eyes. “Sweet and shy, but you love being rowdy with your friends. You love movies and TV and organizing your shirts according to fabric type. You work harder than anyone I know and never complain. You date me, even though I’m a huge child,” you smile sadly.

“No!” he jumps, turning that frantic stare back into you. “Y-You’re not— it’s not,” he stammers, words still slurring together. “I’m a liar,” he cries, resting his forehead on your knees. His shoulders shake. “I don’t deserve you,” he weeps quietly. You place a hand on his shoulder. “Y-Y-You make my life so much better, ___, so colorful and fun. I-I wish I knew you in high school,” he admits, “maybe I wouldn’t have been so emotionally constipated now.”

“You’re not,” you reassure him softly.

He disagrees. “You bring out the best,” he hiccups, “the best in me.” Your heart skips in your chest. “I-I love you, you know that?”

You sputter, eyes wide at his sudden confession. “I… love you so much, y’know? I think about you ev-every night, ___,” he rambles, eyes dreamily gazing off into some miscellaneous spot on the wall behind you. “I can’t get you out of my head. Like you're a song, o-on repeat but it’s not annoying because it’s my favorite song, and I could listen to it for the rest of my life, y’know? My favorite song, I know all the words b-because it’s all I think about! I love... My love… I love you so much.”

“Kook,” you rush out, cheeks flaming as you try to pull him away from where he’s slumped over your legs. His passionate speech has you abuzz, body tingling everywhere until you feel overwhelmed, head spinning like you’re on a rollercoaster. “Let’s get you to bed.”

He nods sleepily, seemingly coming down from whatever alcohol induced rampage has allowed him to walk for an hour straight in this searing heat just to confess to you. “Y-You don’t have to say it back,” he continues to stutter as you guide him through the living room on wobbly legs. “I just-I just— can I?” he babbles. “Can I love you, ___?”

You pass through the kitchen space, where whatever you were watching on Disney+ is blaring loudly. It distracts Jungkook for about two seconds before his attention returns to you. When you don’t answer, he presses on. “Is that okay?” he asks, whirling around to face you, catching your shoulders in his hands. He towers over you by the entrance to your bedroom, dark curls tickling your forehead. His eyes are dark and glazed over, both in tears and an emotion so raw and unfiltered it squeezes around your chest until you can’t breathe. “Is it okay for me to love you?” he murmurs softly, knocking his nose against yours.

Your cheeks blaze. “Yes, th-that’s fine, Kook,” you blubber, placing a hand over his chest, where his heart is also hammering away. “Just need you to go rest now, okay?”

He nods sleepily, nudging your nose with his one last time, like a soft almost-kiss, before letting you push him into the room. “Yes, yes,” he breathes, his body finally crashing from his adrenaline spike. He flops down onto the bed unceremoniously, dark waves fanning across your pillows. You try to wiggle him out of his shirt, but it only gets about halfway up his chest before he blindly reaches for the covers. His legs stick out awkwardly, clad in the sweatpants you’ve come to associate with him.

When he’s all swaddled up in your blanket he finally goes limp, tiny snores leaving his lips as he dozes away from reality. You sigh, pressing a palm to his forehead. He’s still warm and clammy, but at this point, there’s nothing you can do but wait for him to sober up.

With a final kiss to his forehead, you leave the room, closing the door behind you before sliding against the wooden surface. There’s a trapped bird in your chest, wildly flapping its wings in an effort to get out, and it’s all stupid Jungkook’s fault in the next room. Stupid Jungkook who demolished and remodeled your heart all in less than twenty-four hours. It doesn’t calm down, even when you rush off into the kitchen for a glass of water, or when you try to immerse yourself in some other show on Disney+. It stays beating against your ribs and your chest until you’re forcing yourself to sit down on the couch and process.

He wakes up a little before dinner. You hear him from the living room, where you’re flicking through the options on Disney+ for the nth time that day. You’ve seen the first fifteen minutes of about twenty different series and movies by now, always growing antsy and abandoning them early on. The only reason you know he’s awake is because the shower turns on for a few minutes, and then his bare feet are heard padding across the hallway back into your room.

By the time he resurfaces in the living room, you’ve resigned yourself to just more Phineas and Ferb, nonchalantly watching the silly cartoon. (Except you’re anything but nonchalant, and your heartbeat rings in your ears.)

Jungkook hovers by the door, clad in a pair of shorts he’s left here before, and a t-shirt you stole from him. “Hey,” he says quietly, lingering by the doorframe. You nod back in response. “Can I watch with you?” Again, another nod.  

Slinking over to the couch, he’s rather careful as he sits down, leaving a few inches of space between the two of you. You don’t even think he can see the screen of your laptop until he murmurs, “he’s my favorite character,” when Perry the Platypus appears on the screen.

You hum. “Thought you didn’t like these kids shows?” you ask. You don’t mean it to sound as petty and backhanded as it comes out, but that’s really no one's fault but his own.

Jungkook’s breathing tightens beside you. “No,” he admits, “I don’t. Only watch them because I know you like them.” You contemplate pausing the episode and engaging in a real conversation with him, but at this point, you’re very tired from the events of the last day. Jungkook doesn’t press either, just shuffles more comfortably beside you.

You get about five minutes in, quiet chuckles shared between the two of you, before he strikes. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” he says, so hushed you almost don’t hear it. His hand is resting in the space between you, pinky brushing against yours. “About… being late. And the presents.”

You inspire slowly. “That wasn't even the problem, silly,” you brush off. From your peripheral, you see Jungkook’s slow nod. “I didn’t want any presents,” you mention, “I just wanted you.” You look away from the screen immediately after, pretending like the spot on the ceiling is actually really interesting.

The two of you fall into silence, the animated characters on your screen rapidly chattering away. “Oh,” Jungkook says after a moment.

You roll your eyes. They’re moist but you don’t want him to see. “Yeah, oh,” you parrot back softly, relaxing into the couch again. “Did you eat the food I left out?”

Jungkook shuffles beside you, the soft lull of the speakers soon being cut as he reaches over to pause Phineas and Ferb. A couple of seconds pass and then he’s leaning into you, head resting on your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes again, placing a palm over the hand he had been teasing for the past few minutes. “I thought I knew what I was doing but I was wrong.”

His voice is so soft and sincere, it makes your chest ache. You try to burrow your face against your opposite shoulder, try to hide the stray tear that escapes out of the corner of your eye. “It’s fine,” you brush off, voice choked off and hoarse.

Jungkook leans up, pecks your cheek so tenderly it makes you go mushy. “No, it’s not fine. I acted like a know-it-all and said something way out of line,” he murmurs, raising his head to look at you. His hand feels warm over yours. It’s the touch you craved all day and yesterday, the warm feel of his body against yours. You’re embarrassed at how easily you melt into it. “You’re the best thing that has happened to me in a long time,” he tells you, holding your hand close to his chest. “I had no right to say those things to you.”

You sniffle, resting your head against his shoulder now. His heart beats loud enough for you to hear. “Was it true?” you mumble. “Do you really think of me like that?”

He shakes his head, his soft breaths fanning across your forehead. “No, never,” he answers. “I think you’re incredible. My brain was just trying to justify my dumb anger.”

You nod, even if you don’t believe it just yet. But that was a conversation for later, you suppose, sometime in the future when you aren’t on the verge of tears and threatening to crumble apart at the simplest word that leaves his mouth.

“I should have come home like you wanted, thought about my words before saying them,” he says, snuggling closer to you. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop,” you sniffle, covering your face with your free hand as he presses a kiss to the vein that runs over the back of the hand he’s holding captive. “Now it just sounds like I'm just being inconsiderate of your gifts and a crybaby.”

Jungkook kisses your temple softly, gently. “Don’t think about the gifts,” he says. “Just tell me what you wanted to do, doll.”

His voice calms you, has you like putty in his arms. “Watch movies,” you mumble, toying with a thread on your couch cushion. “Be with you.”

He hums. “Then we’ll do that,” he says, reaching for your laptop again. The screen nearly blinds you when it flickers back to life before you, Jungkook’s low breaths against your ear making it near impossible for you to process the titles on the screen. “You liked Disney+?”

Belatedly, you nod. “I like the animated movies,” you admit quietly, the anxieties of before slowly melting away, even more so when he slides his arm around you, pulling you close against his chest.

Unlike other times where he’ll critique the hell out of such childish films, Jungkook says nothing as he starts up the Zootopia movie instead, the same one you had wanted to show him before, right from the beginning. “That bunny looks like you,” you murmur when Judy Hopps first appears on the screen.

Jungkook snorts. “You say that about every cartoon bunny.”

You turn your head to glance at him over your shoulder. He meets your gaze with a small smile you return. “It’s because you’re so cute,” you say softly, lips twisting playfully when his cheeks grow scarlet.

He knocks his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering shut. “Not cute, just lucky,” he chuckles. “Lucky enough to have you.” Your heart turns over in your chest, threatening to burst out of your rib cage at his words. You try to turn in his arms. Before you can say the words that have been sitting on the tip of your tongue for months now, he’s beating you to it once again. “I love you,” he confesses in a hushed whisper, no alcoholic influence. 

Something inside of you blossoms, eyes wide as he chastely kisses you. He pulls away without you ever reacting, too caught up in surprise to kiss him back properly. He stays close, curls tickling your forehead as he leans over you. “You don’t have to say it back, I just wanted you to know. I love you,” he says again, long lashes blinking down at you. “So much. It makes me feel like a stupid teenager again, going to the mall to buy a gift for my crush.” He laughs sheepishly, reaching down to tangle your fingers together. “Is that okay?” he asks quietly, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

It mirrors the confession he’d given you that morning, those slurred words and teary eyes. It had been difficult to pinpoint the legitimacy of it before, the meaning scrambled by his hazy mind. But with him staring at you like this now, like you single-handedly plucked the stars from the sky to put them in those sparkly eyes of his, it makes something inside you ache.

Still, you choke on your own spit. “I-Is it okay for you to love me?” you sputter incredulously, realizing the oddity of the same question he’d thrown at you earlier. But now, you’re both sober and you can really tear apart that sentence. Jungkook nods a little too seriously for your liking. “Are you crazy?” He blinks in confusion, brows pulling together as you slowly but surely lose the last bits of your sanity. “You’re an idiot, Jeon Jungkook,” you huff, “a stupidly handsome, rich, walking dream, idiot who goes out with stupid girls like me.”

“Not stupid,” he murmurs, closing in on you again as he finally understands the truth behind your masked insults. He smells minty and like his favorite body wash of yours.

“No,” you deny. “You’re actually, like, insane. You have a bachelor pad, make enough money to sustain an entire litter of kittens, look and talk like every teenage girl’s dream boyfriend— but you mess it all up by dating evil, conniving hoes like me who lose their shit over Disney cartoons.” He says nothing, watching you with an amused grin as you talk over yourself, basically regurgitating his statement from yesterday except it kinda seems plausible now that you’re over it. “It’s stupid. No, you’re stupid. No— I’m stupid.”

Jungkook chuckles, kissing the corner of your mouth gently. “Done?” he says, a dimple appearing on his cheek. You could kiss it away, but you need him to know the amount of stupidity in this room was astronomically high. “You’re not stupid, baby,” he says. You level him with a look. “Well. You have your moments.”

“Moments?” you repeat, standing up in a hurry that has him flopping down beside you. Your laptop is lost somewhere on the cushions, the voices faded as they grow farther away. “I am so stupid. I called Namjoon a whore for taking you out for lunch!” you cry. “I am the stupidest person in the world.”

Jungkook cackles, standing up beside you. “Yes, yes, you’re my stupid girl,” he teases, tapping the pout on your lips playfully. “So stupid she slanders herself instead of just telling me she loves me too.” He bumps your noses together, dark eyes staring at you almost daringly after his claim.

You fold soon enough. “I love you,” you mumble, “even if I’m too stupid to say it.”

He rewards your confession with a kiss, pulling you into his arms soon after. He sighs, almost wistfully. “Whatever shall I do with my very stupid girl?”

After exactly three minutes of feeling safe and loved in his arms, he abandons the living room in favor of leading you back to your room, where he pushes you down against your mattress. You cling to him, leaving him positioned over you at an angle. His chest presses against yours, arm curled around the back of your head. “Gotta get up, baby,” he laughs.

You shake your head, caging him in your arms. “Nuh-uh,” you murmur, legs wiggling when he places a hand on your hip.

Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss against the side of your ear. “Your movie is still playing in the other room,” he reminds you, thumb drawing soothing circles on your hip. You don’t release him, his mindless touch only encouraging you to keep him close. “Babe?”

You say nothing, relishing in the comfort of Jungkook’s presence. His hair smells good and feels even softer against the side of your face. The cotton shirt he found is crumpled beneath your fists, dark blue pattern wrinkling. Finally coming to terms with his new home, Jungkook eventually relaxes into your hold with a sigh.

“Alright,” he hums, patting your hip as he repositions himself more comfortably. “I get it. My pretty girl must’ve missed me, huh?” You nod, soaking in every detail about him in this moment. Jungkook shifts, the hand on your hip suddenly falling over your thigh instead. “Or should I say my stupid girl?” he purrs, hand slipping between your thighs. “My stupid, little girl?”

A gasp catches in your throat when he runs his fingers over the front of your panties. Your legs kick out wildly at the sudden touch, toes curling at the hands you dreamt about all day and night. “Oh,” you pant, each brush of his fingers feeling better than the last.

“What?” he says, mouthing against the side of your neck. His tongue feels warm, but the trails of saliva he leaves have you shivering. “Too dumb to speak?” he scoffs, biting down against a particular spot on your neck. You whimper, unsure if it’s because of his hands or his mouth.

“N-No,” you try to sneer back, fingernails digging into his skin through his shirt. His hands are getting braver now, the pad of his pointer finger dancing over your engorged clit. The sheer material of your panties certainly doesn’t help, each touch feeling like it’s being magnified three times over. And if it felt this good with underwear, you can’t even begin to imagine how it’d feel without.

You don’t have to ponder for long, because soon after Jungkook is slipping his hand beneath your waistband, touching your sensitive pussy head-on. “Kook.”

He uses your momentary vulnerability to ease himself from your hold, finally recoiling enough to smother your mouth with his. You moan in surprise, thighs quivering as he gets to work circling your hardened bud sans your panties. Jungkook isn’t the least bit kind as he kisses you ruthlessly, likes he’s trying to compensate for something with his movements. When he finally pulls away it’s with an obnoxious pop and cherry red lips. He huffs, glancing down to see where he’s got his fingers pleasuring you.

Your thighs are squirming back and forth, closing around his hand every few seconds. Jungkook snorts. “Huh, look at that,” he mutters, trailing down until his fingers are gliding over your quickly sopping folds. “Stupid girl is good for something.”

Your cheeks burn. “Kook, I’m not—“

Jungkook levels you with an unimpressed glare. “Not what? Not stupid? But I could’ve sworn you just spent the last few minutes saying you were,” he drones meanly, landing one light slap against your cunt that makes your hips buck.

You bite down a whimper. “I was just…” you trail off, eyes rolling back when he teases one finger against your opening.

“Kidding?” he supplies. “Well, I wasn’t.” Your heart stutters in your chest, eyes growing wide as he finally pushes himself off of you, propping himself up with an elbow beside your head. His gaze is dark and unrecognizable. “I think you’re so fucking stupid, doll,” he sneers. “And what are you gonna do about it?”

You should have seen this moment coming, the manifestation of that shiny side of the coin finally reaching its full potential.

While Jungkook wasn’t exactly shy about his interests, he certainly wasn’t tripping over himself to tell you every new kinky thing he wanted to try. You sort of guessed he had some interest in this sort of play a few weeks ago when you watched the Barbie movie at his place. A lot of that night had branded itself into your three am wet dreams, but there was one particular moment that stood out to you. That was you, on your knees, with him condescendingly patting your head. Or just last week, you vaguely remember the term slipping through his lips as he pleasured you with The Bullet Bestie.

The thing about Jungkook was that, until last night, he would have never admitted, or so much as even thought, that he was better than you. That was fine because you would say it enough for the both of you anyway. Did you think Jungkook was amazing, an absolute diamond among these measly rocks? Absolutely. (Were you slightly biased because you were his girlfriend? Skip.) However, you also had this insane evil villain complex that made you want to brag about everything you possibly could, especially if that meant bragging about your boyfriend.

Realistically speaking, he was better than you, that much you could look past yesterday’s anger to admit, and not even in a stuck-up, conceited way; he had a really good job, an architecturally amazing house, and a hot girlfriend. Meanwhile, you had a mediocre job, an okay apartment, and an insanely sexy Calvin Klein boyfriend, half of which he had pointed out yesterday. Regardless of how powerful that third factor was, he still outnumbered you three to one.

Sue you, Jungkook was amazing. Anyone could see that! Except, maybe, himself.

And if the only time Jungkook would openly brag about his greatness or establish how much better than you he was, was in a post-fight, sex-induced setting, then you were more than happy to be his punching bag. So long as it was on your terms, and not as a result of his weirdly bottled up feelings.

(Yeah, you would have a long talk about that tomorrow.)

But for now, you pout up at him, clamping your thighs shut purposefully. “You’re stupid too,” you defend, “stupid and mean.”

Something in his expression changes. Suddenly, he’s moving at superhuman speed as he snatches his hand out from where you had previously trapped him between your legs, yanking you up by the front of your shirt. “Mean?” he mocks. “Isn’t that what you always wanted?” You shiver, fingers wrapping around the wrist that holds your sweater. “Wanted me to be mean and push you around like a little rag doll?”

Jungkook looks at you for another two seconds, before he’s slowly pulling away from you, leaning back on his knees. His tongue is pressing against the inside of his cheek, jaw tightening from the movement. “Baby,” he says so quietly it instills a prickle of fear in you, tainted with delicious excitement.

“Yeah?” you whisper, sitting up tentatively as you watch him, He was a bit frightening, like a wild animal about to devour you whole.

Jungkook rolls his neck, the joints in his spine cracking as he begins tugging off his shirt. You salivate at the sight, too focused on the sinewy muscles of his body to catch the dark gaze he levels your way. He throws it off to the side, his sleeve of tattoos that wraps around his bicep and begins to crawl down his chest wonderfully unobstructed now. “Eyes up here,” he says and you quickly meet his gaze. He leans forward, muscled arms coming to cage you against the headboard. “Stupid little sluts don’t have the room to make such comments,” he rasps out, unamused expression adorning his normally soft features. “Don’t you think so?”

“I-I don’t know,” you stammer, leaning away as he comes closer and closer, eventually just turning your head to the side to avoid that emotionless look. It’s the wrong move, and Jungkook lets you know as much by forcefully digging his fingers into your cheeks and turning your face back around to meet his gaze.

A hand grabs beneath your knee, tugging harshly until you’re flopping down onto your back with a squeal. You settle with his knee pressed hotly against your core. Jungkook stays towering over you. “Dumb little girls who make me watch cartoons,” he spits, tracing a hand over your chest, molding your breasts beneath his hands roughly enough to make you gasp. “And watch little animal movies on Disney+. Aren’t they just so stupid?”

“So stupid,” you concede, subtly shifting your hips for some desperately needed friction. Jungkook snorts, finally granting you your wish with one rough slide of his thigh against your core.

“I agree,” he says, and surprises you with a hand around your throat as he leans in to properly grind his thigh into you. “All they’re good for is being dumb little sluts with good pussy,” he murmurs darkly, thumb pressing into the side of your neck forcefully. “Sometimes, they don’t even do anything,” Jungkook continues, his other hand on your hip hauling you higher up his thigh. You mewl, soaked panties rubbing roughly against your folds. You miss the soft swirl of his thumb, the gentle prod of his fingers. Even so, you can’t deny this change in Jungkook is doing something to you, riling up a part of you that you hadn’t known existed. Maybe it’s the horniness from yesterday that was left unfulfilled, the one year anniversary sex that was put on pause. “Just lay there and take it, too fucked out and dumb to say anything.”

His fingers loosen for the briefest of seconds and you gasp for breath. “That’s terrible,” you whimper, rolling your hips up into his thigh, so close to his swollen cock.

Jungkook chuckles without an ounce of humor, pressing your foreheads together as he helps grind you to completion. “Isn’t it? I think that stupid little girl is cute though.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt, vision spotting as he tightens his hand back around your throat. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you moan, stomach tight from all the stimulation.

Jungkook hums, slowing you down with a tight grip on your waist. “Hm, what are you sorry for?” he croons, pink lips pulling into an evil smile. “You said you weren’t that stupid girl, __.”

You shake your head, trying to roll your hips up again but he’s holding you too tightly now, rendering you immobile beneath him. “I am,” you choke out shamefully, grabbing at the hand on your hip in a feeble attempt to remove it. “I am a stupid little girl.”

Jungkook smirks, leaning down to slot his mouth over yours. “That’s right,” he murmurs, “nothing but a dumb little slut.”

You shiver, opening your mouth when he slides his tongue against your bottom lip. He’s not the slightest bit nice, and more messy than usual. He pulls away with a bite to your lower lip, meeting your trembling gaze with that same unrecognizable glint in his eyes. “Come on, dummy, keep up,” he snarks before devouring you again. You try to, you really do, but he’s moving like an animal today, despite his slow and drunken movements from that morning. So you end up with his saliva dripping down your throat, clinging to the corners of your lips as he begins slowly grinding you against his thigh again. He flashes you a wicked smile, pearly teeth on display for you as he glances down at your messy appearance.

“Are you gonna touch me?” you ask, lower lip trembling at the thought after your desperate rutting. Jungkook purses his lips together in thought.

“Mmm,” he hums. “Don’t know yet.”

You whine. “Jungkook, please,” you whimper, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I need you.”

Jungkook chuckles, running his hand up your waist and taking your shirt with him. He slips his fingers beneath your bra, pushing the wire over your chest as he mouths at your neck. “Cute,” he says. “Can’t do it yourself?”

You tremble, chest arching into him as he rolls your nipple between his fingers. “I-I can,” you gasp. “Just feels better with you.”

Jungkook follows your statement with a nip against your skin, tongue soothing over it right after. “Why? Because I do everything better than you? Even make you cum better than you?”

Your cheeks heat up at his blatant ego rearing its head, hands carding through the hair at the nape of his neck. You say nothing, and that only eggs Jungkook on. “Come onnn,” he teases, finally, finally rolling his hips down onto your core. You squeak, head falling back against the pillows as you’re granted the one thing you’d been chasing. “Say it.”

“Say what?” you ask, voice wobbly as he continues to slowly rut against you, the front of his shorts pressing against the soaked crotch area of your panties. “Oh, oh, Jungkook,” you whine.

Suddenly he bites down harshly, teeth digging painfully into your skin. You yelp in surprise, pussy throbbing at the pain that shoots throughout your body. Jungkook pulls away and doesn’t bother soothing over it as he leans up to capture your jaw this time. “Say you’re a stupid little slut who can’t do anything without me,” he purrs, kisses too soft for the words he says.

Your mind blanks, torn between the humiliating phrase he wants you to say and properly checking him in his place. In the end, it’s with a twisted need to please him that you’re repeating the words back to him. “I-I’m a stupid slut,” you whimper, fingers digging into his shoulder blades as he continues pushing you right along the edge. The rope pulled tightly in your core is slowly being pulled apart, threads hanging on for dear life. “Can’t... can't do anything without...”

“Without who?” he asks, reaching down and untying the front of his shorts. “Can’t do anything without who, baby?”

“Without you, without you,” you cry, bucking your hips up against his, the combined movements of both your bodies making you shake like a leaf. “Ah, K-Kook,” you wail, hips stuttering as your orgasm finally swallows you up. Your panties quickly grow wet and icky from your own arousal that pools between your thighs. Jungkook lets you writhe beneath him as you chase your high, mouth sucking a pretty blossom against your jaw.

You know better than to expect the night to end here, especially after seeing the glint that had been in his eyes as he watched you unravel.

He leans close, let’s his nose brush against yours as you catch your breath. “So perfect for me,” he groans, slotting his lips against yours. You can barely keep up with him, languidly going along with his hot tongue. “Perfect, perfect girl,” he murmurs, a stark change from the less than friendly adjectives he used just moments before. “Tell me you love me?” he says softly.

You nod, mind fuzzy as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Love you,” you exhale, letting your fingers knot in his hair. Your proclamation does something to him, makes him grind the front of his cotton shorts hard against you. For someone that was often rough and brutal with you in bed, he sure was sensitive to the mushiest of things.

“Don’t deserve you,” he huffs, hot breath fanning across your skin. He switches gears fairly quickly. “Tell me you hate me,” he begs hoarsely, rutting against your soiled panties. “Tell me I’m a piece of shit and you could do better without me,” he pleads, voice too airy to be another one of his usual sex-induced thoughts.

You shake your head, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he rolls his hips. “It’s not true,” you whisper, “I love you more than you’ll ever understand.”

Jungkook groans, suddenly winding back and tearing your ruined panties down your legs. You gasp in surprise, letting him haul you about in his blind, self-inflicted rage. “Stupid, stupid,” he huffs, though at this point you can’t tell who it’s directed at. With your underwear out of the way, he wastes no time plunging his fingers back into your cunt, bypassing the tight ring of muscle around it without any of his usual care. “You should hate me,” he snarls, lips pressed against your ear.

You moan, back arching at the sudden pleasure that blossoms between your thighs. “I-I don’t,” you gasp, toes curling.

Jungkook groans, the sound traveling down your spine and straight into your pussy. “Stupid girl,” he huffs, slipping an arm around you to pull you so close until you can’t breathe, chests lined up together. His skin is warm to the touch, scorching almost. “Fuck,” he groans, curling his fingers inside of you. You whimper and moan, incapable of staying still beneath him as he tortures you with a thumb to your clit. “Tell me you hate me,” he seethes again.

Despite the fog that’s settled over your mind, you still manage a resolute shake of your head. “N-no,” you cry, digging your nails into his back. They run dark red lines over his skin, making him hiss at the sting.

Whatever punishment he’s trying to put himself through is falling through with your refusal to admit such a thing. It aggravates him even more, your adamant stance on loving him so, and he’s retracting his fingers before you can cum again. “Please,” he chokes, face tucked into your neck. He’s sloppy with his movements; as he pulls his shorts down and kicks them away, he nearly suffocates you with his weight. “I don’t deserve you, ___, please.”

“I love you,” you whimper for lack of explanation. Jungkook leans back, that same madman gaze in his glossy eyes. He’s looking at you in disbelief almost, pouty lips puckered and swollen. Your hands slip from around him, falling on either side of your head.

Like a cobra he strikes, collecting your wrists in one hand he pins above your head. The sudden movement has him leaning in close, lips brushing over yours. His lashes are coated in a wetness he refuses to acknowledge, looking at you like you drive him insane. “If you ever try to leave me,” he whispers, jerky breath fanning over your skin, “I’ll lose my mind.”

He loves you so much it aches.

“I won’t,” you whimper, feeling your own eyes well up with an emotion that consumes every inch of your being. “I’ll never leave you, you stupid, stupid boy.”

A faint smile crosses his features at your words, lips quirking to the side. You relish in it for all of two seconds before he’s ramming his cock into you, your sensitive walls spawning around him. You sob loudly, eyes rolling back into your head. Your legs instinctively hook themselves around his waist, digging into the base of his spine as he rolls his hips into you.

You feel full and complete like he belongs there in this moment and every moment after this. It makes your heart constrict painfully. Jungkook’s soft groans follow your more unraveled noises, the vulgar slapping of skin on skin the underlying melody to it all. “Ffffuck,” he spits, greedily swallowing your moans up. You whine, arms bucking in an effort to hold him close. But he’s determined in his act of restraining you, long fingers tightening around your wrists until they hurt. “I warned you, didn’t I?” he huffs, snapping his hips into you.

Your walls clench around his hard cock, the drag as he exits sending shivers throughout your body. Jungkook’s body towers over you, glistening in sweat as he nails you into your mattress. “Remember what I said?” he asks, voice but a shuddery exhale. You shake your head numbly, overwhelmed by the rough drag across your walls. “All those months ago, when you first came over,” he adds. The hand on your hip abandons its post to cup you beneath the jaw, palm pressing sinfully against your throat enough to block the tiniest of airflow. “I’ll fuck you and keep you forever,” he murmurs, voice deeper than the pits of hell. He licks a fat stripe over your cheek like you’re nothing but a sweet for him to devour. “Do you remember that, pretty girl?”

You nod jerkily, hips arching up into him when he thrusts into you again. It’s a memory that replays in your mind every so often, your first night with the man you had planned to humiliate over a mere misunderstanding, now your boyfriend of one year. “Want that,” you gasp, tears blurring your vision when he begins picking up the pace. “Wanna be y-your pretty girl forever.”

Jungkook groans, kissing the corner of your mouth. His thighs are some magnificent beings, keeping his pace consistent even as he loses himself in his overwhelming need to kiss you. “Always,” he manages, soft lips pressed against yours. “I won’t ever let you leave.”

A shriek tears itself from your lips as he picks up that harsh piston, releasing your jaw to hold both wrists above your head. It makes his curls dangle in front of his eyes, covering that beautiful dark gaze. It makes his thin little necklace swing back and forth too, though it’s too small to actually touch your face. The rhythmic swing has you hypnotized, just like everything else about Jungkook.

With the length of his hair, you’re left staring at his lips, pulled taut between his pearly white teeth. The word from before sits heavy in your chest, begs to drip from the tip of your tongue. But he’s moving too fast and too hard, scrambling your thoughts until all you can think about is the cock plunging into your heat. His name falls from your mouth like mindless blubber instead, arms thrashing as your second orgasm swallows you up. It sends you crashing, body spasming as the sheer euphoria waves over you slowly and then all at once.

“Perfect,” he grunts, leaning down to slot his mouth against yours, “my perfect girl.” Your cum makes the sound of his hips erotic, the loud squelching following your panting. Still sensitive from your high, your body unconsciously tightens around him, keeps his cock from fully leaving. It brings a soft whine out of Jungkook, one he tries to muffle against the side of your face.

“Inside,” you whimper, even though your body feels like jelly beneath him. “Cum inside, Kook, please,” you beg.

It only takes a few more thrusts into your leaking hole for him to finally reach paradise, hips stuttering when that first shot of pleasure hits him. “Fuck, fuck,” he growls, wildly snapping his hips into your achy cunt. You moan, feeling just about brainless at the overstimulation. His cum leaves you full, almost makes your belly bulge from it. When he’s done he doesn’t bother pulling away, simply slumping into your limp form. His cock, though quickly softening, serves as a plug for the cum threatening to spill out of you.

There’s a muted noise coming from the other room, the faint sound of the mail slipping through your letterbox, the quiet chattering of the street outside. And of course, the loud blaring of your laptop playing the Phineas and Ferb theme song. Jungkook registers it at about the same time as you, a soft chuckle leaving his lips.

He pushes off of you soon after, leaning on his palms over you. He’s got that molten look on his eyes, the heat of a thousand suns burning behind those irises as he looks at you. Like he can’t get enough, even though he’s just about taken everything there is to take. “Love you,” he murmurs quietly.

A drop of sweat rolls over his forehead, clinging to the end of his eyebrow. You reach up and brush it away, let your hand trail down his face to cup his cheek. Immediately he leans into the touch, eyes falling half shut. “Love you more,” you respond.

“Impossible,” he scoffs.

Soon after you’re both stumbling out of bed, clothes haphazardly shrugged back on as you drift through the living room. There’s a thin, hot pink package sitting at the door, just having slipped through the letterbox; the stark Sexuality Unleashed logo is printed on the visible side, so you have to wonder what Doyeon could have possibly ordered this time that could be so thin. The laptop is awkwardly sandwiched next to a throw pillow, barely open a crack. Jungkook retrieves it, sets it on his lap as you scamper over to the couch.

“More Phineas and Ferb?” he asks quietly. He hates it, you know he does. And still, he wants to watch it with you.

You nod. “Please.”

He isn’t so concerned with the plot as you, clicking some random episode to start. You snuggle into his side, quietly singing along to the opening. After a moment, Jungkook speaks again. “Phineas and Flirt?” he offers cheekily.

You roll your eyes. “That might’ve been your worst one yet,” you sigh, trying to drown out his indignant huff by focusing on the screen.

“I don’t exactly see you coming up with these,” he points out, obviously feeling wronged.

Without missing a beat you say, “Disney+ and bust.”

epilogue

commercial break one ; the resolution

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[yslkook]

RAINBERRY (6)

mind of mine masterlist

summary: you share a series of moments with jungkook, come to several realizations about sora. things shift...for the better or for worse? pairing: “badboy” jk x “shy/reserved” oc warnings: cursing, alc, excessive use of pet names, kinda toxic friendship, suggestive content (hooking up)

word count: 7305... yeah idk what happened lmao

a/n: if you want to be tagged, send an ask plz

***

“You come here often?” A voice behind you murmurs in your ear. You nearly jump, but you already know who it is.

Jungkook. Ever since he had texted you letting you know that he was on his way, you’d been eagerly looking for him in the crowded, dim lights of the bar.

“No,” You say, unable to stop a giggle from pushing past your lips.

“Lucky for me then, huh?” Jungkook grins, his smile a little dark and a little seductive. It sends a thrill up your spine.

“It is,” You nod, “Really lucky for you. And for me-”

You internally cringe at yourself. Did you learn to flirt only yesterday? Jungkook quirks an eyebrow at you in amusement before letting his hand rest on your lower back.

“C’mon, pretty, I’ll get you a drink,” Jungkook says, “Maybe then you’ll pick up a trick or two on the subject of flirting.”

You gasp and swat his chest, “Don’t be so rude.”

Jungkook stands in between your legs at the bar, one hand on your thigh and one hand gripping his drink. You’re laughing at something he said in your ear, something funny that happened at the tattoo parlor earlier in the day-

“Mina and Mei pretended to be the other to see how long it would take for Jin to notice, since he can never tell them apart-”

“You’re all terrible, and poor Jin, you always instigate with him!”

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” Jungkook nearly pouts at you.

“Oh? Why’s that? Maybe I like Jin more than I like you,” You reply, leaning closer to him.

“But you still like me, right?” Jungkook says, discreetly weaving his fingers through yours. Nobody’s paying attention to either of you, but even if someone was, you wouldn’t mind.

Or so you thought nobody was paying attention to either of you.

“Mmm… maybe a little bit,” You grin, tilting your head to the side, “Tell me how cool and pretty you think I am, and then I’ll decide.”

Jungkook laughs, throwing his head back. His bright, bunny smile makes you smile. “You already know how cool and pretty I think you are, baby.”

“You could stand to mention it a little more.”

“And what about me?” Jungkook says, leaning forward, “You never compliment me, baby…”

“That’s- that’s not true,” You whisper. He’s close enough that you can see the stars in his eyes, the ridges on his plump, pouty bottom lip, the mole below his lip.

“But I guess you don’t need to, not really,” Jungkook says airily, “Not when I can tell that you think about me. Because my girl’s dirty, huh?”

You squeeze his lithe fingers tightly and he smiles at you, sin painted in the curves of his wicked grin.

“Uh-” You stammer, your face feeling hot, “You’re really cute?”

He throws his head back once more and you grin bashfully at him. “And I like spending time with you,” You say softly, looking up at him as if you want him to hang the moon for you.

Jungkook curses under his breath. Because he would, he really would.

“How lucky for me,” Jungkook says, patting your head fondly.

“Shut up,” You roll your eyes.

Before the night ends (and you endure the teasing of Mina and Mei), you manage to convince Jungkook into taking pictures with you. Mina is all too happy to take them. You don’t know how many candids she takes of you both- you get lost in his voice and the glint in his eyes.

And then he abruptly kisses your cheek, and your breath hitches with the feel of his lips against your skin leaving your heart sputtering helplessly in your chest.

Mei and Mina are both cooing in the background at their favorite couple who isn’t quite a couple just yet. Jungkook glares at both of them, only causing them both to laugh.

And then the moment is ruined by none other than Sora herself. Jungkook sighs, already knowing that you’re going to be pulled away from him. He doesn’t know why she’s even here when nobody here likes or knows her except for you. But you’re too nice to leave her out of things (mainly because you don’t want her to get upset at you for it). So Jungkook says nothing, only narrowing his eyes at her when she comes close.

She eyes his arm around your waist and how close you’re standing to him suspiciously.

“I don’t feel so good,” Sora groans, clutching her stomach. How dramatic, Jungkook scoffs. As if she’s never handled alcohol before. Jungkook looks for the blurriness that comes with alcohol in her eyes and is unsurprised to find nothing.

But perhaps his dislike for her is outweighing reality.

“Door’s right there,” Jungkook says bluntly, “And the bathroom's over there. Knock yourself out.”

He tightens his hand over your waist, ignoring your gentle swat of your hand against his chest.

“Can we go home?” Sora pouts at you, but not before sending Jungkook a glare. Jungkook already knows you’re nodding- it seems that Sora always gets what she wants.

He knows she’s faking it, and you’re too nice to see through her bullshit.

Well, Jungkook gets what he wants, too.

“I can take you both home?” Jungkook says, though the thought of being within five feet of her sends him recoiling.

“No! We can get home ourselves,” Sora nearly hisses.

“What about when she drops you off at your apartment? You gonna let her walk home alone?” Jungkook scoffs.

“She doesn’t live that far, and she can take care of herself. Or she can sleepover,” Sora answers heatedly, as if you’re not right there.

“She is right here. And I’m not sleeping over, I have an early morning tomorrow,” You say easily, feeling annoyance beginning to stir in your belly. It’s a lie, but Sora doesn’t need to know that. “Go wait at the door, Sora. I’ll be there in a minute.”

And for once, Sora listens to you.

“Jungkook,” You murmur with heated cheeks, “Maybe I can see you later tonight?”

Jungkook laughs in surprise. His girl isn’t just flirty and touchy, you’re a liar. And you’re a liar for him.

“Sure baby, whatever you want. Just please text me when you get home. Or call me and I’ll come pick you up,” Jungkook says, returning your tipsy smile. He wants to glare in Sora’s direction but refrains from doing so.

He can hear both Mira and Mei both giggling into their hands a few feet away, but you don’t seem to hear it. You don’t seem to hear anything but him.

“Okay,” You beam at him, “I’ll call you.”

By the time you get Sora in the safe hands of her roommates and tucked into bed with a glass of water, it’s nearly 1:30 AM.

“Promise me somethin’,” She says, her eyes half awake. But you can tell she’s alert and aware.

“Hmm?” You say distractedly, about to text Jungkook telling him you’re going home soon.

“You need to stay away from Jeon,” She mumbles, watching you like a hawk, “He’s not a good guy-”

“I think you’re tired, Sora,” You say, not meeting her gaze, “I’m pretty tired, too. So ‘m gonna go home. Sleep well.”

“I mean it, he’ll break your heart, you know. Don’t you trust me?”

“Sleep well,” You whisper easily, levelling her with an intense gaze. She feels herself being scrutinized as if she’s under a microscope, but the heat dissipates quickly as you turn on your heel.

Lying to her comes so easily, even with your heart pounding painfully in your ears. But you know that’s not Jungkook’s influence on you, as she might claim. Jungkook has never been a liar- apparently that’s reserved only for you.

Jungkook is only a few blocks away from Sora’s apartment building so you remain on the phone with him, giggling quietly, as you meet him halfway. He covers more ground quicker than you so he catches up to you quickly.

“Hi,” You laugh wildly, not sure what you’re even laughing at. You’re giddy just from the sight of him and you shyly take his hand in yours. He looks at you in surprise but says nothing, only rubbing your thumb with his own.

“Hey, baby,” He says smoothly. You only beam at him in response to how he is apparently unaffected by you. It’s so easy for you to push Sora’s words from your mind, when Jungkook is standing right by your side looking at you like that.

“I live kind of far from here,” You confess, “It’s like a fifteen or twenty minute drive.”

Jungkook shakes his head at you, pulling his phone out for an Uber. “I hate that you Uber home alone so often from here,” Jungkook says, “Don’t do that anymore. You’ve heard the stories right?”

“Yeah, I have,” You shrug, “I don’t really know who else I can call all the way from here-”

“Me,” Jungkook says sharply, “Yoongi. Hobi. Jin. Mei. Mina. Any of us, baby. Fuckin’ Sora should drive you home.”

“She’s drunk, she can’t drive!”

“Not this time, just in general,” Jungkook mutters, “Some best friend, letting you ride alone in a damn Uber for twenty minutes without even checking up on you-”

“I don’t wanna talk about her anymore,” You mumble abruptly, “I want to go home, Jungkook. Will you take me home?”

And who is he to deny you?

In hindsight, maybe you should have slowed down. Maybe he should have slowed down. But the minute you enter the threshold of your home, your hands are warm and welcoming on his chest. You want him, you need him, you need him to hold you the way you know he wants to.

Your lips are sweet against his, trembling and burning all at once.

It’s been about an hour since you both ended up falling into your bed together, and most of that hour has been filled with you both locking lips. It had been you who had pressed your hands to his firm chest with determined eyes and a deep furrow in your brow before pressing your lips to his.

As quickly as it happened, it feels right. You’re sitting on his lap as if you belong, hips slowly rocking into his as your hands pull his hair out of the ponytail that it’s in. You sigh happily when you card through his hair, fingertips gentle over his scalp.

Jungkook loves the soft, pretty noises he pulls from you with each slip of his tongue into your mouth. You’re hungry, impatient, nothing of what his initial first impression of you was. You always want more, more, more and he wants to give, give, give.

He should’ve been more surprised than he really was when you had tugged his hand into your bedroom, pushed him to your bed and climbed into his lap. Your eyes are hooded, as you duck your head to meet his lips.

He tastes like honey and mint and something sweet. He smells like fresh laundry. You could lose yourself in him, you think, as you bite his lower lip generously.

“Baby,” Jungkook groans into your mouth, missing the warmth of your lips immediately, “Wait.”

But he moans again when you nip his bottom lip gently, coaxing your way into his mouth. It takes him a few seconds to pull away, your honeyed lips too tempting for him. You complain vocally, deciding to press your lips to his neck instead.

“Baby,” Jungkook says again, a little firmly with a tight grip on your hips.

“Honey,” You say in the same tone, your lips pulled into a pretty pout.

“Slow down,” Jungkook murmurs, gently placing you on the bed, your back against your freshly washed sheets. You hum and wrap an arm around his shoulders, eyelashes fluttering as you just watch him. Jungkook looks so good above you, lips perfectly pink and pillowy… You’re tempted to lick the column of his neck, all along the swirls of ink, but you don’t.

“It’s late,” You muse, twirling his hair within your fingers. He won’t admit that he feels like putty in your arms, hovering above you.

“Great observation,” Jungkook says dryly, “Anything else you wanna share with the class?”

“Will you stay over,” You murmur, looking up at him as he lays in between your legs and dots your cheeks in soft kisses.

“You want that, baby? Pretty baby wants me to stay over?” Jungkook nearly coos at you, and you swat his hand away at his teasing.

“Shut up,” You mumble, “Only because it’s like, 3 in the morning and it would be shitty for you to go all the way across the city alone.”

“Yeah, right, only because it's three AM. Not because you want to cuddle,” Jungkook snorts.

“You’re only good for cuddling, anyway,” You shoot back, “I have some of my dad’s sweats and shirts if you want to change. Get off me, you big oaf.”

“My girl’s mean, huh?

“Oh, who said anything about your girl,” You mutter, embracing the heat in your face.

Jungkook peels his leather jacket off, but he catches your curious eyes before you turn away and all but run into the bathroom to change and take your makeup off. He’s waiting in your bed as if he lives there, waiting for you to join him.

“Why do you look so nervous in your own bedroom,” Jungkook asks bluntly, chuckling at your soft noise of offense.

“It’s not everyday I have you in my bed,” You mumble, peeling the covers back to slide into bed next to him.

“You want it to be everyday?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, pretty boy,” You reply, pinching his waist. He yelps and grips your wrist loosely.

“You okay with this or what? I can sleep on the couch if you’re not,” Jungkook says, rubbing your wrist gently.

You hum, “I’m good. You good?”

“Got the prettiest girl right here. Of course I’m good,” Jungkook says, winking at you. You hide your face from him and swat his chest.

“Good night,” You mumble, “Go to sleep, stupid.”

“Who the fuck,” Jungkook grumbles into your hair, “The fuck is calling you this early, what the fuck-”

You groan, pushing your face into his chest as if that’ll push the jarring sound of your phone blaring out of your mind. Rubbing your eyes with an irritated sigh, you reach over to blindly feel for your phone on the nightstand but Jungkook reaches it first.

“Of course,” Jungkook rolls his eyes, “She never misses a fucking beat does she? Even at 6:20 in the fucking morning...”

You catch a glimpse at the phone and see that it’s Sora calling you. You take the phone from his hands, letting him wrap himself around you with a pout. You run your hand over his back silently as you answer the phone.

“Hello?” You grumble raspily, voice filled with remnants of the morning.

“Hey, just checking that you were awake. You said you had an early morning today, right?” Sora's chipper voice booms into the receiver. You cringe. Has she always sounded like that?

“Yeah…” You reply, but you’re a little distracted by the way that Jungkook’s lips attach to the corner of your mouth. “Mmm…”

“You there? You falling asleep on me, or what?” Sora asks, “Always so distracted, you should seriously pay more attention-”

Jungkook hears her and glares at the phone. His eyes harden and he moves quickly, without warning you. He takes the phone from your hands swiftly as if it’s personally offended him.

“Leave us alone, Sora,” Jungkook says, steel and frustration clear in his voice, “It’s too early for this shit, go do something productive and leave us alone. ”

You watch him with gobsmacked eyes, knowing this won’t end well but unable to find it in yourself to care as much as you should.

At least not yet.

Sora’s flabbergasted screech pierces the previously quiet morning air through your phone and you wince. You knew she wouldn’t be happy, but you’ll deal with her later. When a sleepy, pouty Jungkook wasn’t in front of you already chasing your lips with his.

“Kook,” You sigh, turning your cheek to face him. He plants his lips on yours easily, pulling the words right off of your tongue and filling your mind with air.

“You embarrassed of me or something,” Jungkook teases.

“What? No,” You say sharply, eyes wide, “Why would you think that?”

“You lied to her last night and you lied to her just now. You don’t have an early morning,” Jungkook says, hands running over your cheek, “You only have me in your bed.”

“She keeps telling me I should stay away from you,” You confess, “I don’t know why she doesn’t like you, but I’ll talk to her about it later. I don’t want my best friend to not like you-”

“Is she? Your best friend?” Jungkook asks, cutting you off. Your eyes are round with confusion, head tilted to the side.

“Why wouldn’t she be?” You ask softly, “We’ve been close since college-”

“I know all the facts, baby,” Jungkook says, trying his best to not insult Sora to you the way he wants to, “I know she’s been your friend since college, you’ve seen each other at your worst, all of the usual bullshit-”

“Hey!”

“... Why do you think she doesn’t want you to have anything to do with me? If she was really your best friend, she wouldn’t be this fucking concerned or involved-”

“If I knew, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” You shrug, “She’s just… protective of me.”

“She cares too fucking much in my opinion,” Jungkook says, “Fucking control freak. Would someone protective of you send you on a blind date with an asshole who stood you up and didn’t even reach out to you after?”

Jungkook has a lot more he wants to say about Sora and how she treats you, but he keeps it to himself for now.

You don’t know what to say, so you say nothing. Only looking at him with those disarming eyes. He hasn’t said much about it, but your gears are already turning. You’ve been growing more and more tired of Sora’s antics- mainly the way she never seems to take into account your feelings unless it benefits her. It was tolerable in college, but the more you fell for Jungkook, the more tiresome it was becoming.

“I don’t wanna talk about her anymore,” You say finally, a repeat of what you said last night.

Jungkook looks at you, something undecipherable in his eyes, before nodding and quietly meeting your warm, sleepy lips with his own.

It’s been a total of thirty-six hours since you kissed Jungkook and he had spent the night with you. You haven’t had any type of conversation with him about what your kiss with him meant, what him staying the night over meant. It doesn't’ stop you from feeling giddy at the thought of him, from replaying the last kiss he had given you. From leaving you wanting more.

You think nothing of it as you cheerily buy a dozen donuts to bring with you to the tattoo parlor to surprise Jungkook and your friends. Maybe you can sneak a kiss in.

But the minute you walk into the parlor, you know something is a little off. Jungkook’s shoulders are tense, a pensive look settled in his eyes. His jaw is clenched, tongue poking his cheek.

“Hi,” You murmur, offering him the box of donuts, “I come bearing treats.”

Jungkook gives you a thin smile. He chews on his chapped bottom lip, deep in thought. You didn’t know what to expect after seeing him for the first time after he spent the night with you, but this isn’t what you expected.

He’s standing across from you with crossed arms over his broad chest. The air between you both feels cold and still, icy as you exhale. He’s upset about something, and after before you can ask him what’s wrong (before you can stop your own spiral downwards), he beats you to the punch-

“I don’t understand you,” Jungkook says, his voice perfectly calm and even. But it’s eerie.

Your heart drops to your stomach instantly and you swallow the dry lump in your throat.

“What?” You hate how soft, how weak your voice sounds. But you can’t help it, not when disappointment coats his eyes and when he speaks to you like he’s disgusted by you. You don’t understand him either. The way he switches up on you with no warning.

Jungkook takes a deep breath to tell you what’s been on his mind. Instead of the practiced speech that sounded much calmer in his mind, what comes out is-

“You let Sora walk all over you,” Jungkook hisses, “You let her dictate almost every fucking decision! She has this inexplicable hold over you, and you don’t even know it!”

Jungkook hates confrontation, he really does. But he’s at his wit’s end with you and with Sora. Mostly with you, for not seeing a terrible friend in front of your eyes even when everyone tries telling you. How can you be this blinded by it? By her?

“She manipulates you at every turn, and you just let her! And you know what, I get it- it’s hard to recognize it when you’re in it. But we’ve all told you. She’s not a good friend to you, at all!”

Your face falls, heart sinking into a black hole that begins to swirl in your belly. You can’t stand it, the fire in his eyes despite the ice in his voice. You don’t like this. You don’t like this.

“I don’t know why you’re so hellbent on listening to her,” Jungkook seethes, getting angrier the more he thinks about Sora, “She treats you like shit- you have to know you deserve better than that, right? She sabotages you every chance she gets. She doesn’t like any of us, you know that? And forget that- why don’t you fucking ask yourself why she has the opposite opinion to everything when it comes to something you like? Your fucking car, your apartment, your job, your choice in decor. Even me.”

His words make you ache terribly and you desperately need something to hold on to to ground yourself. You shove your fists in the pockets of your jacket and surely, you’re clenching your fists tight enough that your nails are piercing through the skin of your palms.

“You never question her intentions. You’ve never even dreamed of questioning her,” Jungkook continues with a cruel sneer, lips twisting into something unfamiliar that cuts across you, “You should ask yourself why. You should ask yourself by you’re always defending her, walking on eggshells around her, afraid to be in disagreement with her, when she doesn’t give a fuck about you.”

But he doesn’t stop there, “You’re so fucking naive a-and fucking foolish. You can’t see how she always has to have you in the palm of her hand, how she makes sure she’s ahead of you in life, by whatever twisted definition of that she has. You deserve better than her. And I know I deserve better than to be hidden because you’re too scared to face your supposed best friend.”

You don’t have any words. Your brain seems to short circuit at his harsh truths, unable to formulate a single sentence. Instead your hands tremble and your eyes become wet.

You say nothing. As always, you say nothing.

“You’re not gonna say anything? Not even now?” Jungkook asks, tongue pressing against his cheek.

Another five seconds goes by before you open your mouth, “I d-don’t know what to say,” Your voice is quiet, unlike what Jungkook is used to, “It seems you’ve already made up your mind about me. I’m sorry I hurt you.”

Jungkook could scream in frustration. You still won’t say what’s on your mind, even when he insults you straight to your face. He can’t tell what you’re thinking (mainly because you hardly ever say anything about it), despite being able to read you easily.

“I think I should go,” You say in the same soft, defeated voice, “I b-brought donuts, but umm… they’re over there. Goodbye, Jungkook.”

With that, you turn your back on him and on the tattoo parlor to head outside. He doesn’t see the trembling of your hands or of your shoulders. He doesn’t know that you somehow hold your tears back the whole way home, biting down harshly on your bottom lip enough to draw blood.

Jungkook doesn’t know that you barely make it into your apartment with his words ringing cruelly in your head. He doesn’t know that you collapse in your bed in a mess of sobs and the sound of your heart aching.

You’re alone.

It takes all of thirty seconds after your departure for Jungkook to realize the weight of his words and for your defeated, hunched over shoulders to replay in his mind like a movie. It takes another forty seconds for Mina and Mei to emerge from their respective offices (where he’s certain they heard the entire conversation) and scream at him for his callousness-

“I have never known you to speak to anyone like that, let alone the girl that you’ve liked for who knows how long! What the fuck is wrong with you?” Mina says and smacks the back of his head.

“You’re an idiot,” Mei continues with narrowed eyes, “You better apologize to her and kiss her fucking feet-”

“Who else was going to tell her about Sora? She hasn’t listened to-”

“There is a way to communicate these things!” Mei says angrily, “You yelling at her like that wasn’t the move and you know it. You’re so fucking stupid!”

“Alright, I get it,” Jungkook says, equally as angry. He pulls away from both of them, not wanting to hear it from them anymore.

“That girl Sora is a fucking bitch but you’re no better for how you just behaved,” Mina hisses, “Get your shit together, Jeon.”

He knows that he was harsh, maybe too harsh with you. Looking back on the memory of your glossy eyes and sad, slumped shoulders… You hadn’t even fought him. You’d just accepted his barrage of words as fact, without even thinking to provide an explanation or a defense of yourself.

Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut in shame. Once the anger dissolves into hurt, he reaches a conclusion. He should’ve just talked to you rather than lash out at you like that.

You’re no delicate flower, but damn, he’d do anything to take away the broken look in your eyes.

You take exactly two days off from work to sort through your feelings and thoroughly comb through your previous memories with Sora, and subsequently, with all of your friends. You spend most of this time in your bed, under the covers and scrolling through old photos from college and post-grad life.

It’s funny- you don’t really know where your sense of self got away from you.

You’ve always approached people- relationships, friendships- logically and rationally. Or at least you thought you had. It seems like a lot of your reactions to things that may have upset you or bothered you (or lack thereof) was for the convenience of others- namely Sora.

You bury your head in your hands when she passes through your memory. How could you have let it escalate this far? Can you be so blind to someone treating you so horribly for this long? Can you excuse her behavior for the simple fact that she’s been your supposed friend for years?

You try to think back on a time when you felt like you could unabashedly be yourself around Sora without any consequence for simply existing.

You come up blank.

Logic comes easy to you. It’s easy for you to make the decision to finally speak to Sora and say what needs to be said. Especially when your other friends were hurt by her actions, and by extension, yours.

After about another thirty-six hours, you decide. It doesn’t surprise you, how easy it is to make the decision. You decide that this “friendship” with Sora isn’t worth it. Not when she’s made you feel like this for years and if she treats your friends this way, too.

You’ll give her a chance to explain, but most of your mind is set already. Considering how well you know her, you know how this conversation is going to go. You dread it, but it must be done. Even if it’s long overdue.

“I need you to be honest with me,” You say plainly, keeping your face neutral even as your heart hammers away in your chest. At least you’re in the safety and comfort of your own home, your pastel green throw pillow on your lap acting as an anchor.

Sora sits across from you, an eyebrow raised. Her mouth is twisted into something defensive, on the ready to eat you alive. How could you not notice it before?

“When am I ever not honest with you?” Sora scoffs.

“Then it should be easy for you to answer a few questions for me, and we can be on our merry ways,” You say breezily, your eyes hardened. She swallows. Good.

“The fuck you being so formal for?” Sora laughs, but her smile drops when she sees that you’re not joking.

“Why are you so mean to Jungkook and his friends? My friends?” You ask without missing a beat. You cross your arms over your chest and look at her expectantly. Your ears feel warm, but you press on.

Even if Jungkook is perhaps irreparably upset with you, you think this is his influence. Growing a spine and sticking up for yourself, for the people around you.

“Seriously? That’s what’s got your panties twisted?” Sora says, waving a dismissive hand at you, “Don’t worry about them, they don’t know you like I do- I mean who else was holding your hair back when you were throwing your guts up in college?”

“I don’t think the quality of a friendship should be assessed by how many drunken nights we had.”

“Who else was there for you when nobody else was?” Sora hisses, “I took you home when your parents left you for the holidays, I was the one who was there with you when your shitty ex’s ghosted you, god, your taste is the worst-I was the only one who ever saw you!”

You squeeze your pillow far too tightly.

“Stop holding that shit over my head,” You snap, “Those are just things that friends do. I never begged you for your support and I shouldn’t have to feel like I owe you something other than friendship just for being your only fucking friend who put up with your shit for this long.”

Before she can open her mouth to speak, you cut across her, “Stop talking about the past. College was years ago at this point. We graduated fucking almost six years ago. And even in college… you haven’t changed a bit,” You let out a mirthless laugh, “What do you have to say for our friendship right now? If you gave a shit about me, you wouldn’t have set me up with a loser who stood me up. You afraid of something, Sora? You afraid I’ve been around people who are friends with me because they actually like me, not because they get off on a weird power trip?

“Ever since the beginning, all you’ve done is push me away from myself,” You say with trembling lips, “E-everything, you’ve just… you just take everything I like and I want and completely dismiss it. It’s n-not right. A-and it took this long, for Jungkook to call it out for me to realize. This- this isn’t friendship-”

To your misery, her lips morph into a cruel sneer. “Jungkook? You went behind my back-”

“Behind your back? You don’t even have a good reason-”

“I told you, I’m only-”

“No! You’re gonna let me finish, for once,” You raise your voice, levelling her with a glare containing years worth of anger, “It’s clear, with or without Jungkook, that you’ve only kept me around to make yourself feel better. How twisted is that! You kept me down, made me doubt myself and everything just so you could feel better.”

You take a deep, deafening breath.

“I don’t want anything to do with you anymore. Even now, you can’t reassure me. Even now, you can’t call on our friendship as something fond to remember. You weaponized me for your own insecurities. Get out.”

“Get out? You’re kicking me out?” Sora’s sneer drops immediately. Maybe you’re being cruel, but you can’t take it anymore. Something passes across her face that makes you draw an ounce of sympathy for her but it evaporates immediately.

“Yup,” You say, popping the ‘p’, “We’re not friends, and I don’t think we ever were. So thanks, for bringing me back to my senses.”

And that’s that- she leaves with her tail between her legs, not pleading for your affection or your friendship. You’re grateful for that, because you feel like you might collapse in about two minutes.

***

It has been exactly nine days since you ended your friendship with Sora and exactly fourteen days since you stepped foot in the tattoo parlor. You’ve only just reached out to Mei and Mina, in between sporadic texts to Hobi and Yoongi.

It’s been exactly two weeks since you spoke to Jungkook. You miss him, you miss his crooked smirk, his bunny smile. Most of all, you miss the comfort and safety his presence brings. But you’re too nervous to reach out to him again, his harsh words and fiery eyes blinking back at you in your own mind. You’re nervous to even show your face at the tattoo parlor.

Jungkook has been receiving an earful from all of his friends since the last day he spoke to you. Hobi’s wrath, along with Mei and Mina’s wrath, is something he never wants to relive twice. Yoongi and Jin also lectured him, and he only looked at them with wide, doe eyes in understanding. Whatever anger he was holding on to has simmered down to hurt, and now he just misses you. And he very much regrets the way he spoke to you.

He winces when he recalls his cruel words, the sharp edge of his tongue that slipped out so easily. So quickly, to strike you right where it hurts. Jungkook can’t get your stricken expression out of his mind. Knowing he put that look on your face, it makes him ache. And he’s the coward, for still not reaching out to you to apologize.

He’s too nervous to face you, but he has to.

***

jeon jungkook : hi. can we talk sometime soon?

It takes you fifteen minutes to respond. What he doesn’t know is that you had panicked for ten of those fifteen minutes, nearly dropping your phone when you had seen his name pop up on your screen.

you 🧡 : hi. sure. Where?

***

You give yourself a pep talk the entire drive to the park. You’re glad he suggested a park, and a park close to your home- you’re grateful for the open area. You’re incredibly nervous to see him for the first time in a while, running through different scenarios in your head before scolding yourself.

It’s Jungkook. Even if he hurt you, it’s still Jungkook. You trust him. You want to trust him.

You spot Jungkook leaning on his motorcycle, looking like a vision in all black. As almost always a strand of black hair escapes his ponytail as he lights his cigarette. If you didn’t know him so well, you wouldn’t notice his nerves in the way he grips his lighter tightly.

“Jungkook?” You say softly, “Hi.”

You wring your hands together, gripping the straps of your backpack tightly. You’re just as nervous as he is, he realizes. But still, you stand with your back straightened, eyes wary. You glow, and despite the fact that it’s only been two weeks, he senses something different about you.

“Hi,” Jungkook murmurs, the pet name on the tip of his tongue but he refrains, “Come here. Can I hug you?”

“Y-yeah,” You nod with a small smile and he envelopes you in his arms, holding you tightly. Inhaling every bit of you that he can. He wants to kiss you again, kiss you breathless, kiss you so that you forget his cruelty.

But he can’t erase it. So he doesn’t.

“I brought blankets for us,” Jungkook murmurs, pointing to the basket, “Let’s go sit?”

You nod and follow his lead.

***

“It was messed up,” You say forlornly, “We kissed, we kissed a lot, you slept in my bed and then you yelled at me. Insulted me in your tattoo parlor. You hurt me. You hurt me a lot.” There’s only a little malice in your voice, but he’ll take it.

You’re both sitting across from each other, knees touching with open and honest eyes. You feel vulnerable and exposed around him, especially considering how your last conversation with him went.

“You should’ve just talked to me,” You mumble.

“I know,” Jungkook says instantly, takes your much smaller hands in his and squeezes, “I fucked up. I’m so sorry I spoke to you like that. You didn’t deserve that from me. You don’t deserve that from anyone, least of all from me. I’m sorry I let everything fester and took it out on you. I’m so fucking sorry. I made you cry, didn’t I?”

You look away from him for a millisecond before nodding, “You’d cry too, if the man you liked, the man you just spent the night with for the first time, spoke to you like that. In his own place of work. I only brought you donuts and you just- what the fuck? You just went off on me, I had no idea you were even feeling that intensely about Sora. About me-

“I’m not naive and I’m not stupid. Don’t take me for a fool,” You say pointedly, not letting go of his hands. Jungkook cringes before opening his mouth.

“You’re not naive or stupid, I’m sorry-”

“But… I understand, I think. You know when you kind of… know something but it takes another person for you to realize? I think I always knew how Sora was and didn’t want to face it. Or face her. For so long, it felt like she was all I had for some reason. Like even if there were others, it felt like her approval mattered the most. And I realized it was because she just always had this way of making me feel less than her. But mostly, I owe that realization to you. Even if you went about it the wrong way.”

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook says, “I’m so fucking sorry, I should’ve just talked to you about how I was feeling, rather than take it out on you. You deserve better than that.”

“I’m sorry, too,” You say, surprising him, “For allowing her to get in the way of us, for allowing her to run her mouth. For not having a spine-”

“Stop,” Jungkook says firmly, “When someone is controlling and manipulative like that, it’s hard to see past it-”

“But is it an excuse?” You wonder with a slight tilt of your head, “I let it hurt you, hurt Yoongi, Hobi, Mina, Mei…”

“Maybe not an excuse. But it makes it understandable,” Jungkook says, “All we can do is move forward right?”

“Yeah, I suppose,” You nod, “I know it doesn’t really change much now, but… I told Sora I don’t want anything to do with her anymore. In fact, I kicked her out of my apartment. It was very dramatic and satisfying. Like something out of a movie.”

Jungkook laughs despite himself, pulling a small smile from you as well. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah-”

“You just ended a friendship with someone who’s been around for a long time. That’s not easy.”

“It was easier than I thought it would be. Turns out telling someone to get out of your apartment after letting out about eight years of pent up frustration really is the most vindicating thing a girl can do,” You murmur with a soft laugh, “I think I’m just upset with myself that it took this long. That it took hurting you, the last person I’d ever want to hurt, to realize.”

Jungkook rubs your thumb gently, sending gentle ripples over your skin.

“I’m sorry I disrespected you like that,” Jungkook says, sincerity forming dotted diamonds in his eyes, “God, I’m so sorry, baby.”

“Yeah,” You sigh, “I’m sorry I disrespected you, too. By ignoring all of the red flags, I let her get away with so much. I let her get away with her saying so much shit about you.”

There’s a comfortable pause between you both.

“I think we need to take time for ourselves,” Jungkook murmurs, eyes uncertain but earnest, “Before we start anything-”

“And who said I wanted to start anything with you,” You tease, giggling when Jungkook rolls his eyes at you, “I agree… Maybe no more pet names, huh?”

“Are you breaking up with me?” He asks in amusement.

“To break up, we’d have to be together to begin with,” You say softly. Despite his own words, his own insistence that he knows you both have some feelings to work through before starting anything romantic without lingering feelings of resentment… Jungkook just wants to pull you into his lap and kiss you, steal your breath, feel your hips in his hands. You look so pretty under the sunlight, the rays brushing over your hair warmly and casting a faint halo over your head.

He drinks you in with his eyes, not allowing a single inch of you to pass him. It’s only been two weeks, but he looks at you as if it’s been so much longer since he’s seen you.

You’ve never been good at hiding your emotions around him, and this time is no different. You look like you want to eat him alive, your eyes hooded and palms hot against his. Something in you wants him, wants him to hold you close, feel his hands over any and every inch of you that he can reach.

You want him to paint you with his hands, maybe share some of that sparkle that he seems to be made of.

Your eyes linger, a soft sigh escaping your lips without realizing it. Jungkook resists a smirk, keeping his observations to himself. He catches your gaze burning through his balmy skin, on his arms, his chest, his neck…

It’s too bad. It really is.

Memories of your night together flash behind your eyelids, the way you seemed to fit just perfectly on top of his strong thighs, the way his big hands felt ghosting over you.

You force your eyes away and touch your lips subconsciously, blinking away the ghost of his kiss. Pulling your hands away from him, you offer him a contrite smile.

“I’ll see you around, Jungkook,” You murmur, standing up from the blanket. His first instinct is to help you up, but he remembers, he’s supposed to keep his hands to himself.

“Yeah. See you around.”

Jungkook’s dimples are the last thing you see when you turn your back and head to your car. You try your best not to look back at him, despite every neuron in your brain screaming at you to.

----

TAGS: @kookdbean @codeinebelle

MoM Tags: @tiemeuptogoldenchains @boymeetsparadise @jungkooksseuphoria @kaepjjangiya @drumsofheaven @ppeachyttae @tae-bebe @yiyi4657 @mygscafe @beeeetsandskzreads @maichiverse

[ilyasorokinn]

(day 13) a cliche christmas story , jeff skinner

note, this fic is part of my 14 days of christmas. check out this masterlist if you're interested. none of these fics in this series are connected, they are all standalone. another note, this fic really doesn't have anything to do with christmas. it just gave me a reason to write a sweet fic for jeff skinner. pair, jeff skinner x reader summary, y/n gets dumped right before christmas, so to drown her sorrows she goes to a bar where she meets jeff. warnings, alcohol consumption (all legal) word count, 2013 words

(gif not mine)

The bar was packed, but you had never felt so lonely. You stared at the glass in front of you as you tried to hold back tears, "He's a jerk." Your best friend Marley told you.

"I know." You nodded.

"Do your parents know?"

"Nope." You shook your head, "It's been almost a month and I still haven't told them."

"Well, drinks are on me tonight." She smiled.

"You don't have to do that." You shook your head.

"It's on the house, and in return, you let me spend time with my favorite niece."

"Stop referring to my cat as your niece." You sighed.

"Why? I'm her aunt?"

"Marley..." You sighed, shaking your head with a smile, "Come over whenever you want. Mango misses you."

"See? Just admit it, Mango is my niece."

You shook your head, "Whatever. Think whatever you want. And get back to work while your at it. There's a guy down there to get your attention." You noded to the other end of the bar.

"She's my niece." She insisted, before making her way down to the other end of the bar. You went back to staring at your drink before Marley placed another drink in front of you.

"I mean, I know you said you would cover my drinks, but I thought I would at least get to order my own drinks." You joked.

"I know, this one isn't from me. This one's from the guy down there." Marley told you, pointing down to the guy you had just pointed out to her.

"What? Why?" You asked.

"Said he didn't like seeing a pretty girl looking so sad." Marley smiled.

You nodded, looking at the new drink placed in front of you, "Tell him I said thank you."

"Well, you can tell him yourself cause he's making his way over here," Marley announced.

"What?" Your head popped upright as the guy walked over and next to you, "Hi."

"Hi." He smiled, "I'm Jeff." He held out his hands.

"Y/N." You smiled, shaking his hand. Marley stood there awkwardly as you and Jeff jumped into a conversation, so before things got deeper, she decided to interrupt.

"You know what? There are other customers who look like they need some drinks. Give me a holler if you need anything else." Marley told you before practically running away.

"So, tell me about yourself, Jeff." You leaned your head in your hands as you took another sip of your drink.

"Well, my name is Jeff Skinner, I'm originally from Canada..."

"Canada? Your far away from home, Dorthy." You joked, bringing a smile to his face.

"Yeah, I play hockey." He answered, looking down at his hands, almost nervously.

"Hockey? Like professionally?"

"Yeah, professionally." He nodded.

"That's so cool. Like for the Sabres?" You asked.

"You a hockey fan?" He asked.

"Yeah, originally from Philly, and hockey is sort of big." You explained.

"The Flyers." He nodded, "So, what's got you looking so sad and upset? I mean, there's Christmas music playing." He pointed out.

You laughed, "I uh, got dumped a few weeks ago, and he was supposed to come home with me for the holidays, but that's not happening anymore."

Jeff nodded, "He's an idiot."

"So I've been told." You nodded.

Before you knew it, an hour had passed, "Well, from sitting here with you for the past hour, I think you're a great girl," Jeff told you.

"Has it already been an hour?" You checked your phone and saw that indeed an hour had gone, "Wow, didn't realize that much time had gone by." You chuckled.

"If it's okay, and not too forward, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to maybe get some coffee or something?" He offered.

"Oh..." You started.

"Oh." He quickly got the message, "Too soon."

"Yeah." You nodded.

"How about this, I have a ticket for a game in a few weeks, it's yours if you want to go. I can even get your friend a ticket too."

"Really? You'd do that?" You asked.

"I mean, yeah." He nodded, "I think you're a pretty amazing girl, and I think it's a shame that you're here alone."

"Thank you, Jeff. I'd really like to go to your hockey game." You smiled.

"And it's just your luck. We're playing against the Flyers." He chuckled.

"I hope you're not expecting me to cheer for you." You laughed.

"I didn't expect anything less." You grabbed a napkin and quickly wrote down your number.

"I guess I'll be seeing you again in a few weeks." You smiled, handing him the napkin.

"I guess so." He nodded.

-

Even though the game was a few weeks away, you and Jeff talked practically every day. He would tell you about his day and you would talk about yours. It was very mundane, but it felt very... comfortable.

On Thursday, you and Marley were sitting in the front row at Jeff's game. Marley suggested you bring a sign, but you quickly turned it down, "What? It's a good idea." She told you, to which you told her "no"

You took a sip of your beer as the guys skated out. You watched amazed as your team skated out onto the ice. Jeff made sure you got a seat behind the Flyers bench, which you knew was intentional, and you made a mental note to thank him profusely.

You enjoyed the game. Marley wasn't a big hockey fan, so you had to explain all the rules to her, but you enjoyed your time and even got a picture of the back of the Flyer's benches heads.

After the game, it felt awkward to meet him down by the locker room, so he promised he would come over to your apartment and you would just chill out together.

You dropped Marley off at home, and before she even stepped out of the car, she made you promise that you would tell her everything and all the details.

You drove home and mentally prepared yourself for what was going to happen, "It's gonna be fine. It's not like you've never talked before." You hyped yourself up. Mango walked around your feet, confused as to why you were freaking out so much.

You picked her up and looked at her in the eyes, "I need to calm down, don't I?" She let out a meow as if she was agreeing with you, "I'm gonna take a deep breath." You told her, then proceeded to take a deep breath.

Right as you breathed out, a buzzing sounded throughout your apartment. You let out a panicked breath then walked over, and let him in. A few minutes later there was a knock on your door, and you took another deep breath.

"This is it, Mango." You whispered, picking her up and opening the door, "Hi." You smiled.

"Hi." He smiled, then his eyes went down to Mango, "Who's this?" He ran a hand over Mango's head.

"This is Mango. Don't know how old she is, but she's been with me since I moved to Buffalo." You explained, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before setting her down and letting her investigate Jeff.

Once she was done with her investigation and she realized he was in the clear, she walked back into your apartment, "So, you wanna come in?" You stepped out of the way, and let him walk in.

He immediately started looking around and, much like Mango, started investigating everything little thing. He looked around at all your photos, all your little trinkets, and all the memorabilia you had accumulated.

"Can I get you something to drink? Beer? Water? Soda? I have mango juice." You offered.

He chuckled, "I'm okay." He shook his head, "It feels very... homey." He stated.

"Yeah, just a few odds and ins I've collected over the years." You nodded, putting a kettle on for tea.

"My apartment does not feel homey. Everything came fully furnished when I moved in." He explained.

"Well, I'm sure everything in your apartment is very nice." You offered a smile and a shrug.

"It's is nice." He nodded, looking around at all the pictures and photos on your fridge.

"Well, thank you for the tickets. I had a really good time, although I'm sorry you guys lost."

"Eh, it's cool. I'm glad you had fun." He smiled.

You hummed and waited for your kettle. You leaned against your island, Jeff following in your footsteps and leaning against the island.

"So, have you always played in Buffalo?" You asked.

"Uh, no. I started in Carolina." He answered.

"Fun." You nodded, "Do you wanna, like, watch a movie or something?" You asked.

"Sure." He nodded.

"All right, you can head to the living room and I'll meet you there." You told him, waiting for your water.

Somewhere in between the movie, you and Jeff fell asleep on each other. Well, your head was on his shoulder and he fell asleep on your head.

The next morning, Marley, who had keys to your apartment and vice-versa, let herself into your apartment and was greeted with quite the sight. You and Jeff asleep on each other.

She chuckled and snapped a photo before shaking you awake, "Wake up, babe." She whispered.

You jolted awake. When you picked your head up, Jeff picked up his too, "Huh?" You asked.

"What time is it?" Jeff asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"It's 9 in the morning," Marley answered with a knowing smirk.

"Oh, stop smirking." You glared.

"I'm gonna go wait in the kitchen." She didn't stop smirking as she made her way into the kitchen.

"I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to fall asleep." Jeff slipped his shoes and jacket on.

"It's fine. We both did." You smiled.

"I should get going. I have an errand I gotta run." He smiled back.

"It's fine. We'll talk later." You reassured.

"Yeah." He nodded and opened your front door. He stopped himself and turned around. He quickly pressed a kiss to your cheek and left. You smiled to yourself, placing your hand on the same cheek he had kissed.

You walked into the kitchen, almost in a daze, "So...?" Marley began, "What's the deal with you and Jeff?"

"There is no deal. We're just friends." You shrugged, warming up water.

"That seemed a little more like friends. Your blushing and all he did was kiss your cheek." Marley pointed out.

"Do you think it's too soon? To move on?" You asked nervously.

"No, I don't. There's no timeline on when you have to move on. You move on whenever you want to." Marley told you.

"Okay." You nodded, thinking about it, "I think I'm ready." You nodded. Marley flashed you an encouraging smile.

-

You found yourself in the same place you had when everything started. Staring at a glass of alcohol, only this time, you didn't feel the urge to cry.

"Why're you here alone?" Marley asked.

"Just waiting." You answered, bringing your head up and off your hands. The door opened, and you felt the breeze of the cold Buffalo air hit your arms.

You heard the barstool next to you being pulled out and felt the presence sit down, "What can I get you, sir?" Marley asked, flashing the man a smile.

"Let's get the lady a drink," Jeff smirked.

"Alrighty." Marley nodded and whipped up a drink for you.

"Was wondering when you'd make it." You smiled, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his lips.

"Ran into a bit traffic." He answered.

"Here you are." Marley placed the drink in front of you, before walking off to serve someone else.

"Did you think we'd get here? Last year we were just getting to know each other, and now, you're coming home with me for Christmas."

"I did." Jeff nodded, "Somewhere in my head, I knew we would get here."

"Well, I'm glad you bought me a drink that night. If you hadn't, we probably wouldn't be here today." You smiled.

"Thank God I did." Jeff smiled back.

-

my taglist: @brandtsclarke @jackydrury @joelsfarabees @tysonjost-taylorsversion @Besthockeyfics @boqvistsbabe @joshsandersons @stars-canucks @blondiekook @2manytabsopen @lady-laura-speaks @youngbeezer @heatherawoowoo @thescooby-gang @ggggmoneyyyy @lovethepreds @colecauliflower @ciziikas @monamourthings-blog @x-a-v20x @bowenbyyram @satanxklaus @himbobimboeate @paintlavillered @lam-ila @HockeyJedi13 @drysdaleseyes @tanninetanya @capsleafsstarshurricanehamilton @duhaimes @raysofcrosby @shinytoadpandadeputy @rainysuitcaseprunegiant

add yourself to my taglist!

taylor's 14 days of christmas masterlist!

[boop-le-snoot]

marmalade taffy

Helmut Zemo smut & feels. Soft!Dom Zemo, non-superhero!AU, Zemo being the weird uncle of college!Maximoff twins. This was written on a whim so if someone signs up to beta-read, I will shower you with affection and reminders to drink water. The Reader is addressed as "you" and is not described - race/age/body type neutral. The language I used for Sokovian is actually Serbian. Word count 2,8k.

Fun fact: I have mild synesthesia. Emotions/feelings and some people have an assigned color (and sometimes smell) for me. That's how the name of the fic was born. This fic feels like the colors of marmalade and taffy, look them up. This fic is dedicated to my lovely @slothspaghettiwrites , the shining beacon in my misty, rocky beach. (You're a periwinkle for me, by the way. I thought you might ask.)

When you first see him all you do is raise an eyebrow. His sleek, well-maintained vintage car stands out almost grotesquely amongst the various sedans and mom vans on the campus and you can see the glint of his wristwatch even from afar. Wanda's and Pietro's sheepish smirk only makes the situation worse - the girl's attire obviously screams "liberal arts" and her twin brother doesn't seem to have anything better to wear than tracksuits.

The man behind the wheel is unfazed. He is calm and collected in that European way, not conceited, just waiting. For what? You don't know. His eyes trail over you but he doesn't smile, simply gives a tiny polite nod. If you hadn't had extensive conversations about cultural differences with Wanda, you'd say he was extremely rude.

Shy, quiet Wanda, who's eyes lit up seeing her favorite not-actually-uncle. In a surprising dash of energetic agility, she hopped right into the car, her numerous scarves a bright flash of saturation against the campus grayscale. You giggle and wave at the departing car, snorting when Wanda's hand reaches over to briefly honk the horn, causing the driver to swerve the tiniest bit, his eyes trained on you in the rearview mirror.

He comes and goes often. Almost always in a different perfectly restored vintage car, mostly with the same polite mask of bored contentment. You know he's royalty in his home country and can't help but wonder how frivolously the twins act around him - no, free. He gives all the appearance of a silent, strict man.

You're proven wrong rather quickly. Freshman year left behind you, you and Wanda decide to ditch the dorms for an apartment - she finds one rather quickly and it's just you two in it even though it is ridiculously huge and the rent amount she requests is equally ridiculously small. Not the one to look a gift horse in the mouth, you pretend nothing is out of the ordinary and buy yourself a new pair of shoes.

Helmut - Wanda finally formally had introduced you two - doesn't come by often, however the visits are always... Eventful. He's not at all what it seemed to be; in the quiet of your apartment, a witty, incredibly clever man resurfaces from under the stoic façade. The Slav in him easily lets him consume alarming quantities of alcohol together with Pietro, who opted to stay in the dorms with his idiotic football team, and - you couldn't believe your eyes at the time - dorkily dad-dance squat in the middle of your living room, unfazed by your and Wanda's cackling.

The way Helmut is absolutely unbothered by the audience and the laughter, pale face flushed from the wine and a little smirk stretching his thin lips into expression almost catlike. The maroon turtleneck stretches nicely across his chest, as thinly as your lip that you worry between your teeth.

Pietro raises an eyebrow. You shrug.

"Got something in your eye, no?" He teases playfully and you shrug again, taking another swig of your nice, European beer.

There are more gatherings, more parties and quite a few rides in his car, when the wind blows your hair in all directions possible and intermingles it with Wanda's as you giggle and squeal in the back seat. Helmut always indulges you two; the word 'no' simply does not exist in that man's vocabulary. He insists politely but firmly on a dinner with all three of them on your birthday and the gifts he brings make your eyes pop out and your face heat.

"A woman like you makes any sensible man want to shower you with the finest gifts," Helmut's voice is quiet and his accent is thick and somehow, it makes it all that harder to refuse. He smiles like usual - tiny and a little secretive, as he pecks your cheek, filling the air around you with the smell of his cologne. It makes your mouth water and your fingers clench helplessly around the half a dozen of silk paper-wrapped boxes.

The summer rolls in and it's hot and humid and finally you don't have to worry about waking up at the crack of dawn or classes or the annoying boys who can barely take a no for an answer. The invitation to Helmut's villa doesn't come as a surprise; Wanda had been riled up over it since early May and Pietro and his whole damn football team were equally as thrilled.

You pack flowy dresses, daisy dukes and swimsuits. The expensive jewelry and handbag Helmut had gifted you, too, since the villa is surrounded by a whole neighborhood meant solely for the rich and famous. Wanda is absolutely unbothered by her own bohemian chic and you quietly envy her; the longer you get to know her, the more you realise of how much actually she does not give a fuck about anything besides her paintings and sculptures.

It's admirable, really, because she is talented. And Helmut knows it, too, having had collected and kept every single work Wanda had made, showing it off in the various rooms of his two-story mansion. The abstract fits in well and is a great conversation topic for him and his equally important friends. There's an endless stream of them in the first days and Wanda isn't overtly happy, choosing to run away to laze around the pool with you more often than not.

Helmut's friends stop at the glass wall between the inner side of the house and the pool to stare at you two, too, causing something dark and tense flash across his features. There always had been a sort of tangy obscurity in him, you've noticed, but not nearly enough for you to grow concerned. It added the bittersweetness, the flavour and consistency to the modest man.

Although calling him modest might have been a mistake. The moment you can't shake off one of his friends after a polite chit-chat seems to never end, Wanda nowhere in sight, dread and unease digging their sharp, spindly fingers in the soft flesh behind your rib cage, Helmut is suddenly there, arm wrapped almost possessively around your waist.

"Draga mea, Wanda is looking for you. She says it's urgent," He stares the man down with the eyes of a vulture. "I believe we haven't been properly introduced," Helmut seems to not realize he's still clutching you in a grasp of steel as the man opposite you rumbles out his name, few syllables you'd forgotten seconds after he spoke them for the first time.

"Baron Helmut Zemo," the fingers brush and squeeze once, gently, over the valley of your waist before letting go. You miss the rest of their peacocking, walking away with a fight and fire inside of your hammering heart. Anxiety and longing and confusion mix and blend, combining into a cocktail that has you beelining for the bar like a woman parched.

The next day you're sleeping off the hangover, first in your bed and then by the pool - Wanda had run off into town for one thing or another, and knowing her, she'd be back home at the crack of dawn. It was blissful peace, the soothing balm for your troubled heart and your aching head.

"Hungover?" Helmut's voice was quiet and a little bit teasing. None of the Eastern Europeans had ever showed the signs of having any ill effects from the alcohol they drunk, unlike you.

You stretched, too blissed out to care about the skimpy strings and straps of your bikini, basking in the gentle morning sun. "Mmm, not anymore," a swim in the cold pool had done wonders.

Your soft pink float rocked as Helmut's footsteps quieted, giving way to a short splash and the sound of his breathing somewhere in your space. Just as you cracked open your eyes, he reached out a hand to steady himself next to you. "I wanted to apologize for the situation yesterday. That man was stepping out of line. He is not welcome in my home anymore."

You stare at him and then you snort. The blunt was he usually speaks is so easy, it flows oh so effortlessly. No mind games, just honesty. You want to pay him back in kind. "Don't worry, Helmut. I just had a bit too much to drink," that was the truth. Any other time and you wouldn't have hesitated to unapologetically steer clear of any creep. Heat and bubbly don't mix and that was your own mistake.

"No, printsesa," the man in front of you let loose some of the delicious darkness, eyes growing stormy, hand gently resting over yours. "Some men are fools, they are nothing but animals. You deserve to feel safe, especially in my home." His lips stretched into a smile, water dripping down his jaw and making tiny circles form in the azure of the pool.

"I can't argue with that," you replied, catching the stray liquid and following the trails it made with your eyes. His forehead, dripping down over his eyes, making Helmut blink the stray drops away until they landed on his lips, trickling down his chin.

You swallowed, opting to dip your toes into the cool pool water before you could make a fool of yourself. The water splashed towards him, making a mischievous grin grace his usually serious face, as me made a half-hearted attempt to splash back weakly, making the water sizzle on your sun-kissed skin. Never the one to back down from a challenge, you knitted your eyebrows in mock offense, eagerly letting the water wash over you as you abandoned the float in favour of creating waves with your whole body.

The temperature contrast was delicious and Helmut's laugh even more so as it echoed in between the high walls of the building surrounding the pool. The sun was nearly at its peak, shining over your head in a beacon of heat that almost matched the one inside of you, the one that had blossomed there months ago and finally grew into a steady smolder, shooting sparks whenever you were around the baron.

It was hot and wet, the same feeling chasing you two when you finally kissed. His hand firmly planted on the side of your neck, his nose softly brushing against the underside of your jaw, Helmut was in no rush to taste you, to savour every millimeter of your sun-kissed skin. The man left you with your fingertips trembling and heart scrambling for purchase somewhere in the deepest pits of your belly.

"What are you so hungry for, mmm?" Helmut's voice rumbled next to the shell of your ear; you could barely focus, skin singing underwater, where he held onto you like a lifeline. "You have hungry eyes, ljubavi, tell me what it is and I'll give it to you," your bodies pressed flush against each other, his eyelashes flittering against your cheek.

"You," the maximum capacity for your brain was one-syllable words and you used it sparingly, failing to suppress a gasp when Helmut's mouth latched around a particularly sensitive spot right under your jawline.

Teeth scraped over it before he soothed the sting with his tongue. "All the things in the world, I could give them to you. And yet..." He sounded almost disappointed. Perplexed, just as you were at the strange admission. "A woman like you would have men fighting for your attention yet you give it to me so freely," he murmured softly, capturing your lips in a slow, fluid kiss once more. "I will make sure you have everything you could ever want."

Helmut's touch grew bolder as he steered the two of you towards the shallow end of the pool. The taste of him was intoxicating, like the sweetest, most alluring poison you'd ever tasted: you knew that once you had one small bit, you'd be addicted, drawn to him like a moth to a flame. His words were clever and his mouth even more, making the short stumble upstairs last hours.

A wall, baroque tapestry, marked with the wetness of the pool water, where you allowed yourself to be pressed against as he leaned into you with the entirety of his broad frame, domineering the kiss effortlessly.

You panted as your back hit the soft, million-thread count, unmade sheets of the baron's bed, staring up into his eyes and finding your own reflection in his pupils, blown wide with lust. The tiny smirk was back but now his unexpressive face was marred by a gleem, accentuating his moist, puffy lips you'd licked into and bitten in a heated frenzy.

"Beautiful, printsesa," he stated with quiet firmness, leaning over into you to unclasp and toss away the upper part of the bikini. The bottoms followed suit, flung carelessly somewhere. His hands ran over your as it sang, every tiniest nerve hypersensitive, coming alive with a fervor borne of months of longing, complimented by the summer heat and cool waters.

"Helmut," your voice wavered, flowed on the syllables as his clever, clever mouth trailed hot down your chest, briefly submerging each nipple into the sear of it. Goosebumps rose over your exposed body, highlighting a trail for him, a trail he followed eagerly. Kisses were candy sweet and marshmallow soft.

Hot breath at the apex of your thighs had you mewling and arching into it, having abandoned all shame, and Helmut found it amusing. The petite chuckle made an appearance, his fingertips ghosting over the part of your lower lips; he was as amused by your impatience as he was enthralled by the youthfulness of the gesture. "Shh, ljubavi, I will make it feel better," his accent as thick as clover honey and just as saccharine.

The first movements were tentative, brief and so light, the demanding moan slipped out of your mouth along with a growl of frustration. You felt continuous chuckling, slight stubble rasping along the sides your thighs; you felt him pick up pace and steady his hot hands on your hips as you attempted to trash against the overwhelming stimulation your pussy was receiving.

His moans, loud and wet, drove you closer to the edge like a drunk drove a Ferrari; Helmut's skill was unparalleled but it lacked precision as he lost himself in the moment just as much as you.

"Fuck, fuck, I'm- I'm so close," you managed to grunt out before the crescendo hit, eyes rolling back into your skull as the influx of more, more, more hit every nerve ending in your body. You could do little more than rest your legs on his shoulders as the noble man, the quiet storm lapped up every drop of your release.

He made the inside of you weak.

In seconds, Helmut was back on top of you, grinding his arousal into you desperately, almost begging for it and all you could do was let your body respond, mimic your lover, clench around nothing just as you felt him twitch.

"Tell me you're mine," he demanded hooking one of your legs over his hip, eyes boring into yours with everything in them plain on display. It was a terrifying thing: as if your heart had suddenly grown legs, stood up and walked out into the bare, wide world, open for all to see. "Ti moa, skaži eto," his native tongue made his voice even more hoarse, you couldn't resist anymore.

"I'm yours, I'm yours, I'm yours," you chanted the words like a prayer, hoping he'd be merciful - and he is. No, there's only a hidden tenderness in his hands as he drives into your with increasing force that shakes you and makes your core quiver, igniting your flesh once again like the color red; it's messy and it's sloppy and you're barely aware of Helmut muttering something into the crook of your neck as you feel yourself clench down on him with a choked moan.

"Fuck," hearing him, the polite composed man, bite the end of his own orgasm into a curse made a wave of magenta hot rush travel through your body at lightning speed, his cock pulsating and coating you, claiming you from inside out so sweetly you couldn't resist a shallow gasp into his cheek, a gasp he mirrored as his own oversensitive flesh was once more assaulted by your combined lust.

The tide of his breathing was high; both of you spent yet still drunk on the newfound sense of togetherness. It was clear as a summer's day that in your arms laid a man who'd once lost something important and you - you were a someone who's never had anything of significance and perhaps, this time each other's arms would let you both keep whatever it was that you missed.

[thefanficmonster]

Sweet Tooth

Corpse Husband x Asian Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Tooth-rotting (😉) Fluff, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Corpse isn’t one to have a big preference or craving for sweet, sugary treats. In fact, he’d even go as far as to say he’s not at all a fan of candy. Well, much to his yet to be known delight, his partner Y/N takes that as a personal challenge.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your lovely request! So sorry it’s taken me so long to write and post it but here it finally is and I hope you come across it and read it despite the long time that’s passed. If you do, I hope you enjoy it! Love, Vy ❤ 

“Hey guys! Welcome back to my channel!“ Y/N gives the camera a wave and blows it a quick kiss with their lips stretched in a delighted grin. They clap their hands together, turning to look at their guest who’s sitting in a chair on their right, his face covered with a sticker in the final cut of the video that their viewers have the opportunity of watching. “Ok, before we address the elephant in the room, I’m gonna ask the elephant himself not to move his head too much cause this is already gonna take a long time to edit, the last thing I need is to animate that sticker over your face to follow your movement.“

“Got it, babe.“ A deep voice replies obediently, earning an approving hum in response. However, just as Y/N’s about to turn to face the camera again, the mysterious - ok, not THAT mysterious - guest leans down and plants a kiss on their cheek.

“Brat!“ They squeal as they turn to glare at the person with narrowed eyes. He doesn’t appear bothered at all, chuckling as he wraps his arms around them in an attempt to soften them up. Sadly, his tries fall through as they proceed to ignore his affection instead of reciprocating it for the sake of being petty, “Everyone, this is my boyfriend Corpse.“

“Hello, I am hand.“ Corpse says, slowly waving his hand at the camera, “I shall be your entertainment tonight.“

“Oh this is no entertainment, I have a point to prove here.“ Y/N argues, breaking free from his arms before they bend down to pick up one of the two boxes that are resting by their feet. “You see, Corpse and I got in a bit of a scrap last night...“ they trail off, distracted by the contents of the box that’s now resting on their lap.

“I didn’t think me admitting to not liking sweet stuff would provoke such a dramatic reaction from Y/N but here we are.“ He interferes, lifting a finger in the air as though that will help him be heard better or would protect him in case his partner decided to go off at him.

Y/N just ignores his input yet again, continuing to address the camera, aka their audience, “So as you guys may or may not know, my mom’s Korean and my dad’s Japanese. Since they live in their respective countries for work purposes, that means I’m always one phone call - and a little bit of a wait - away from Korean and Japanese snacks at all times. I’m a person who constantly has a snack by their side so you can bet I make that phone call often. However, about a week ago, I made that call specifically for candy, the brands I was obsessed with as a kid. I don’t know what came over me but I think it was my fortuneteller sense kicking in because this mister over here decided to CASUALLY bring up the fact that he doesn’t like candy.” They turn to glare at him before continuing, “Anyways, so luckily, the package arrived only recently so I haven’t had the time to tear open all the candy and eat it all by myself as I was planning to. That being said, today I’ll be in introducing Corpse to the world of Japanese and Korean candy - a tighter circle of it, to be specific: the candy I grew up with.” They finally turn to Corpse again, the look on their face significantly different and a lot more pleasant compared to the one they gave him a bit ago. “So, how are you feeling, babe? Are you excited?”

Although the man’s face is blocked to the viewers, Y/N can still see him and they are pretty damn close to bursting out in a fit of laughter.  “I don’t know how to feel, actually. I know you have peculiar taste so it’s either gonna be a fun experience or I’m gonna very displeased with what you’ll have me try.“

Y/N rolls their eyes, “Trust me, you won’t be.” They put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, only half humoring his nervousness, “You’ll only be trying six on camera, but my parents sent a ton more which you’ll be able to try later, ok? It was really hard for me to pick only six favorites by I don’t need this video crossing the twenty minute mark.”

With a heavy-hearted sigh, Corpse finally brings himself to rip the band-aid off and get this adventure started. “Ok cool, but don’t surprise me with anything, please. Show me what you had in mind to have me try so I can, you know, prepare myself.”

Y/N, who was busy taking out packets of candy just a moment ago suddenly stops in their movements to give him a look of disbelief, “You know none of these are poisonous, right? Like, I’m not trying to kill you or anything. There’s no cyanide, no rat poison...”

His laughter cuts them off, wrapping his arm around them and pulling them closer again, “I’m messing with you, babe. What you got for me?” He says, placing a quick kiss to their temple while sneaking a peek at the packaging of the candies they’re holding right now.

Wiggling a little looser in his grip, they first show him the three items before turning them to the camera, “These are from my mom, she sent them from Korea and they are triggering a massive wave of nostalgia right now, not gonna lie.” They giggle, adjusting the brightness a little so the products can be seen properly, “Ok so first we have the long biscuit sticks that come in many flavors but I asked for my favorite - green tea flavored, that is. Then we have Pumpkin Monaca which are probably one of my most favorite sweet treats of all time. I think you’re gonna really like them. And lastly from Korea we have these butter waffles which I used to eat for breakfast when I was running late for school - which happened often.”

Corpse snorts, “That doesn’t surprise me.”

His remark is overlooked as Y/N continues, now taking out three packets from the other package, “Now we’re moving on to my dad’s box. He didn’t disappoint either: we have soda-flavored jelly beans; Black Thunder chocolate bars which you’re only gonna steal one of because the rest are MINE; and last but definitely not least we have some classic milk candies.” Setting those down as well, they turn to Corpse yet again, this time giving his a mischievous smile that’s promising him trouble, “So, Mr. Corpse Husband, after this introduction, are you prepared to have your entire opinion o sweet food changed? And more importantly, are you prepared to develop an addiction to these treats?”

Corpse nods confidently, “Oh, I’m very prepared, thank you. Let’s just get on with it.”

Needless to say: boy, was he not as prepared as he thought he was.

It goes without saying Y/N proved their point and took the win today.

@maat-the-prescriptive  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @itsminniekat  @hacker-ghost  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat  @idontknowwhatthisisfam  @evi-ka  @classyandfabulous00  @redperson58  @lilysdaydreams @solowheein  @mythicalamphitrite  @axen-gers  @luckygirl144  @nj01  @buddyemily   @the-albino-lioness  @stardream14  @gdhdkfnn  @nomadicgypsyy  @preciousskye  @fluffysuicideunicornsworld  @o-kaelin  @manacharlotte  @awkward-youtube-trash  @lolalee24  @bonky-beerns  @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian  @strawbrinkofdeath  @teenloves  @tams0527  @browneyespinkhair  @starstruckllamapuppy  @daisychains012  @y0ulooked  @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life  @jula-pauline  @melodykitty  @just-that-bi-girl  @crazybutconfidentaf  @lowellshade @alphakees  @bellero  @weallneednamjesus  @starryhanji  @boiled-onionrings  @husherstan  @fockingwhore  @melaningoddessthings  @prettypastelpetals  @haleypearce  @godwhyamiawkward  @y-napotat  @daisychainyoonmin  @little-miss-rebel3  @free-wheelin-bi-sexual  @redmoon261 @darkacademic2  @wiseflamingoqueen  @into-the-end  @namikhai-i  @nastiablr  @thelittleplantlover  @mirktuan  @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny  @vintagegothlover  @easygoingtheatre  @itsrandombooklover  @miiaivi  @emmybaybee  @befourgolden  @jjk-is-my-shit  @eternalteaaars  @spacebadgerx  @princesslunalight  @acequinn14  @samm48  @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa  @fo-love  @marishimomura-blog  @therealglenncoco  @cinnamonbun332  @killtherandomness  @sanshinexxxsan  @fee-btheweeb  @press-lay  @cathleenpotgieter16  @jazzydoesstuff  @moonlxghtbay  @forestrain2000  @hyunjinhugs  @blood-of-fandoms  @lovellylies  @ukiyolixx  @simpforhpcharacters  @chrisdylan17  @parkerjisung  @pedernille  @theodonyous  @wineandionysus  @malfoystilinskii05  @morbid-x  @coryisagee  @jessewa26  @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365  @raeanneinwonderland  @indecisive-empanada  @gluttonypalace  @loriane2503  @btsiguess-kpop  @khaoticbunny  @lucidlycactus  @smiithys  @rottenroyalebooks  @kpopgirlbtssvt  @fangirl-tc27  @fr0z3n-1  @notmesimpingfortechno  @shotarosleftpinky  @kunoi-chan  @idk-whats-wrong-with-me  @yikeroonie  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @poetry-and-tea  @ama-do-writing-stuff  @wishbonewolf  @emeraldxhope  @t0xick1tty  @kusuinko  @speakyourselfloveyourself  @sophia902103  @lo-manburg  @classsykittykat  @dmgama  @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee  @btsiguess-kpop  @akaashi-baby  @gun-jong-simp  @geschichtenfee  @yerapotato-wp  @browneyedgirl365  @thysagclub  @sparklycloudnight  @helloatomicshadow  @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal  @lucy-bunny17  @aaliyahh0  @katluckybear  @boyleanti  @straybids  @franchesca-791  @cosmicstorm19  @averyisbackinthetrashcan  @aomi-nabi  @xlanawriter  @allensimpsforcorpse  @sunnyrae-cessh  @ladykxxx08  @meowiemari

[dottielovegood]

ASMR - Chapter 6

Elriel fanfiction

About this fic:

Azriel can’t sleep Elain has an ASMR channel Match made in heaven (or you know, on youtube..)

_______________________________________

You can find chapter 1 here, chapter 2 here, chapter 3 here, chapter 4 here and chapter 5 here.

Read this fic on AO3

_______________________________________

When Friday was just around the corner, Azriel was a nervous mess.

He had cleaned his apartment twice, which he understood was a weird thing to do since she wasn’t even coming to his house. He had tried on every item of clothing in his wardrobe. He had googled ‘conversation topics first date’ and written a few down on his phone. He had even gotten a haircut.

He hadn’t been able to sleep at all that week. It felt weird to look at her videos when he had met her and talked to her. It felt like an invasion of privacy, even though it wasn’t. The videos were on the internet for everyone to see, yet Azriel couldn’t bring himself to watch her videos. So he didn’t sleep.

The day before the date, Azriel had decided to get her flowers. But when he stood in a flower shop and the person behind the register asked what kind of flowers he wanted, he just walked out of there. He had no idea what kind of flowers to give to a florist. He knew that certain flowers had certain meanings, and even though he had no idea what any flower meant, a florist probably knew. What if he bought flowers that said ‘I hate you’ or ‘happy funeral’?

Azriel couldn’t risk it, so he bought some chocolate instead. All women like chocolate, right?

But when he came home, his mind did that thing it always did when he was sleep-deprived: it questioned his every decision. What if Elain is lactose intolerant? What if she’s vegan? What if she is the only person on planet earth who hates chocolate? What if the different flavors of chocolate have meaning, just like flowers? Maybe you bought some sort of ‘happy funeral-chocolate’?

In an attempt to get these intrusive thoughts out of his mind, he went to the gym. He worked out for two hours, which was a bit excessive. The gym played shitty gym-music and every single person made weird sounds. It was the perfect distraction. For now.

Azriel hoped that his workout would help with his insomnia, too. He hoped that if he lifted enough weights and ran a few more miles than usual, perhaps he would be able to sleep. It had never worked before, but, as his mother used to say; “hope is the last thing that leaves you.”

However, after tossing and turning for three hours, he could safely say that the workout had done nothing to help him sleep. He couldn’t understand how a person could be so fucking tired, but still unable to sleep. He was almost going a bit crazy at this point. For the past weeks, Azriel had gotten used to falling asleep to Flower Girl ASMR’s videos. He had gotten used to her sweet voice rocking him to sleep. The insomnia was almost worse now that he knew how good it felt to have a decent night’s sleep.

Azriel looked at his phone. It was almost 02.30 in the morning. Fuck, he muttered to himself. He really didn’t want to be a tired mess on the date tomorrow. He had to put his best foot forward, and he knew he couldn’t do that if he hadn’t slept well for almost a week.

Maybe he should just watch one of her videos? She would obviously never know.

After debating with himself for a few minutes, he decided that Elain deserved to meet a well-rested Azriel, so he opened the YouTube app and found her latest video.

Azriel held his breath as her face filled his screen. God, she was lovely. Her smile could light up the darkest of nights, and her sweet voice was like a calming balm for his soul.

He put the phone in his chest and just listened. Slowly and gently, her whispers lulled him to sleep.

Azriel woke up relaxed, but nervous. He only had a half-day at work because Rhys had decided to send everyone home early today to celebrate that Feyre was pregnant. He was taking her on a spa weekend. She was only a few weeks pregnant, but Azriel knew that she would be the most pampered woman in the world during this pregnancy. This weekend was just the beginning. If she suddenly got a craving for pickle smoothies with whipped cream and sprinkles, Rhys would 100% make her one every day. And that is saying something since this man almost threw up every time someone opened a pickle jar in his vicinity.

“Any cool plans tonight, Az?” Cassian asked as he started to pack up his belongings.

Azriel wanted to tell him about the date. He wanted to share the nervousness with someone - anyone. But he couldn’t. Cass knew who she was. Nesta had known her since college. If this didn’t go well, Azriel would never hear the end of it. So he lied.

“No, nothing special. You?”

“I was going to take Nesta out for a date to celebrate that it has been four years since she agreed to go on a date with me…”

Azriel laughed. “After you had panted after her for like two years you mean?”

“Exactly!” He smiled. Cassian sure seemed like a big brute the first time you met him, but he was actually a soft teddy bear. He was never ashamed when people mentioned that he had been trying to win Nesta over for years before she agreed to date him. He just felt like he had won a prize. It was very sweet.

“However,” he continued. “She has to work late. Apparently, one of her authors had plagiarized fanfiction, which Nesta found out about like a week before the book went to print. So obviously, Nesta is livid and I do not want to be close to her until this is resolved.”

Nesta owned a publishing company that focused on publishing romance novels, which didn’t surprise anyone. Nesta had always loved romance books. In her words; the smuttier, the better. Azriel always found them a bit cringy. It was like reading porn. But truth be told, he had read a few books that Nesta had recommended, and they had taught him a thing or two.

“What the hell is fanfiction?” he asked Cassian.

Cassian shrugged. “I’m not completely sure, but apparently this author had just copied something from the internet and changed the names of the characters and sent it in as a manuscript.”

“Weird. I understand that Nesta is pissed.”

“Yeah. So, you wanna do something? Take out and a game?”

“No, I can’t,” Azriel lied.

“You just said that you didn’t have any plans.”

Fuck.

“Yeah, well. I said that I didn’t have any special plans, not that I didn’t have any plans.”

Implying that his date with Elain was “not special” made him feel like shit.

Cassian eyed him suspiciously. “You’re going on a date.”

“What? no.”

Cassian laughed and slapped Azriel’s back. “Yes, you are. You have that date-look all over your face.”

“What the hell is a date-look?” he asked, but Cassian didn’t answer.

“Who are you going out with? Do I know her? Is she hot?”

Azriel held up a hand to stop the onslaught of questions. “You don’t know her,” he lied.

Cassian grinned. “So, you are going on a date?”

“You just said that I had a date-face?”

“Yeah, that was a lucky guess. So, what’s her name?”

“None of your business, Cass.”

“Wow, what a beautiful name,” Cassian teased. “But I get it. You like being secretive. Can you at least tell me how you met?”

“The internet.”

Cassian let out a fake gasp. “Stop the presses and hold your horses. Azriel downloaded a dating app? Can pigs fly now, too?” He made a point of looking out the window.

“Ha-ha, very funny.” Azriel slung his bag over his shoulder and started walking towards the elevator. Cassian was just behind him.

“So, can I see a photo?”

“No.”

“What if you’re getting catfished?”

“I’m not.”

“Well, you can never be sure. One time, this girl, or actually, it was an old man…”

“Cass, please. Just let it go,” Azriel interrupted. “There’s a reason why I never tell you guys when I go on dates.”

“Dates? You’ve been going on multiple dates without telling me? I’m wounded, Azriel.”

Azriel rolled his eyes and stepped into the elevator. When the elevator reached the ground floor, Azriel got out. Cassian had his car in the underground parking garage. Just before the doors closed, Cassian called out for Azriel. “You might need this.” He threw something at Azriel, and Azriel didn’t see what it was until he caught it.

It was a condom.

With a grin, Cassian disappeared behind the big, metal elevator doors.

Azriel shook his head and looked down at the small foil packet in his hand. Cassian really was the worst.

A few hours later, Azriel was almost ready to leave for the date. He was wearing black trousers and a dark grey knitted sweater. And blue socks. Cobalt blue, to be exact. Azriel had a thing about colorful socks. He mostly dressed in black, but he didn’t own a single pair of black socks. These blue socks were his favorites, though. He loved cobalt blue.

Azriel was checking the route to the bar when an incoming phone call made his phone vibrate (he had put his phone on mute and deleted Barbie Girl from his phone, thank god!).

It was Elain calling.

Azriel felt his heart drop. Nobody called just before a date unless they wanted to cancel.

With a sigh, he answered the phone. He tried to sound cheery. “Hello, Elain.”

“Azriel! I’m so happy you picked up.” She sounded out of breath.

“Anything wrong?” Azriel asked.

“Well. Kind of… have you left your apartment yet?”

“No, not yet. Why?”

There was a short pause, and Azriel could have sworn that he heard her swear under her breath.

“Well, I won’t be able to make it. I’m so sorry. And I’m so sorry for calling this late. I was really looking forward to our date, I promise.” She really did sound apologetic.

“Has anything happened?” Azriel asked, suddenly a bit worried.

“No… Or actually, yes. I fell when I got out of the shower earlier. I thought that I just needed to rest, but I can’t walk,” she let out a pained laugh. “I’m such a clutz.”

Azriel hated that she was trying to make light of the situation. He hated that she was hurt. “Elain. If you can’t walk, you should probably go to the ER,” Azriel said.

“Oh, no. I called my neighbor. Madja. She’s a doctor. She said that I had just sprained my ankle.”

“Okay…” Azriel didn’t know what else to say.

“Can we reschedule?” Elain asked. “I really wanted to see you tonight.”

Azriel was used to being rejected. He was used to not trusting new people. But somehow, he trusted Elain when she said that she wanted to see him.

“Of course we can reschedule. I was really looking forward to meeting you too.”

“Really?” He could hear the smile in her voice. It made him smile.

“Yes. I’m av…”

Azriel was interrupted by a hiss from Elain.

“Are you okay?” he asked, ready to steal a car, drive over her to her place, and get her to the hospital. Maybe it was a good thing that he didn’t know her address.

“Mhm, I’m fine. I just.. moved.”

“Elain. Do you have a friend or family member coming over to help you?”

There was a stretch of silence. “No, I’m fine. I don’t need help.” Her tone was too positive and cheery. Azriel didn’t believe her one bit.

“Have you had dinner?”

“I was planning on making some instant ramen.”

Azriel frowned. “And how are you going to do that when you can barely move? Also, that’s not good enough for dinner.”

She didn’t answer for a while. “I’m fine. I promise.” He could hear her voice break on the last syllable. She was not fine.

“Elain. Please, will you let me get you some food? I don’t have to come in if you don’t want me to. Just, let me get you something to eat.”

“You don’t have to…”

“I want to. If you’re willing to give me your address, I’ll be there in just a bit.”

She hesitated. “You probably have something better to do.”

“I don’t. Now please, let me get you some food.”

He didn’t just want to get her some food. He wanted to make sure that she was alright. He didn’t want her to sit all alone in her apartment when she couldn’t walk.

He wanted to take care of her.

After a small eternity, he could hear her whisper “Okay.”

45 minutes later, he was outside her building with sushi (she had said that she liked it) and a bag full of snacks. He didn’t know what she liked, so he had bought a little bit of everything.

A short, old lady walked out the door, and Azriel caught it with one hand. He didn’t want to call her and make her come to the door right now, so he snuck in.

Elain had told him that she lived on the sixth floor, so he quickly made his way up the stairs. He couldn’t risk being caught in an elevator right now.

He found the door with her name on it and raised his hand to knock. And then he froze.

What am I doing? he thought to himself. He had basically asked her for her address and then invited himself to bring her food. He knew that she had a bad history when it came to men. What if she just didn’t want to say no because she thought that it would hurt his feelings?

Azriel contemplated leaving the food outside the door and text her when he was a safe distance away.

“Azriel, is that you?” someone called from the apartment. Elain.

Azriel had to swallow the lump in his throat. “Yes,” he called back. “Do you want me to leave the food outside the door?”

“No, come in. The door is open.”

With a deep breath, Azriel gathered his courage and reached for the doorknob.

He walked into a small hallway that opened up to a quaint kitchen. Elain was nowhere in sight. The kitchen was bright and welcoming. The walls were painted light green and the cabinets were white. Azriel could see a few cookbooks on her windowsill, which made him smile. Most people didn’t own cookbooks nowadays - they just found recipes online.

“In here,” Elain called. Azriel made his way through the kitchen and into the living room. His first thought was that the room really seemed to fit Elain. The dark wooden floor was a nice contrast to the white walls. Not that you saw much of the walls since they were covered by a built-in bookshelf and a gallery wall full of botanical prints. And there were plants in every nook and cranny. There was a dark green velvet couch in the middle of the room, and on it sat Elain. Or actually, she was half-seated, half laying down. Her foot was propped up with a few pillows. There was a coffee mug on the table in front of her, and beside the couch, he could see a worn leather chair.

Elain was smiling at him as he entered the room. When he smiled back, she put the back of her hand against her forehead, which made her look like a damsel in distress from one of those old Hollywood movies. “You came for me,” she exclaimed in an awful fake southern accent. “My hero!”

Azriel couldn’t help but laugh. Elain was wearing black leggings and an oversized shirt. Her hair was gathered into a ponytail. She was beautiful, Azriel thought to himself as he sat down in the leather chair, giving her all the space she needed on the couch.

“How are you feeling?”

“Oh, I’m fine. Madja said that it seems to be a mild ankle sprain, and I should be up and running in like one to two weeks. Honestly, I feel more stupid than anything else.”

“Why?” Azriel asked.

“Well, I didn’t want to cancel our date. And who falls out of the shower? I really am the clumsiest person in Velaris,” she joked. “Yesterday, I dropped a full cup of coffee over my new, white shirt. And the day before that, I poked my friend Nuala in the eye with a flower.”

“You… poked her in the eye with a flower?”

Elain laughed. “Yes. Her eye was red for hours.”

Their eyes met for a brief moment, and Azriel thought that he could drown in those eyes. He wanted her to look at him forever.

But he didn’t want to intrude. “Do you want me to leave? I could just leave the food here with you.”

Elain bit her inner cheek, suddenly looking very nervous. “Would you...Didn’t you buy food for yourself?”

“I did. But I don’t have to eat with you if you want to be alone.”

“I…” she took a deep breath. “I don’t want to be alone.” It was barely a whisper.

“So, you want me to stay?”

Elain nodded, a lovely pink color spreading across her cheeks.

“Okay.” Azriel unpacked the sushi from the bag and offered her a choice of drinks. “We have lemon, elderflower, and regular coke. I didn’t know what you preferred.”

“Elderflower, please.”

She was still blushing. Azriel couldn’t tell if she was uncomfortable or just nervous.

Azriel handed her the drink and opened the coke for himself.

Elain sat up slowly and reached for her chopsticks. Since she had to sit with her leg raised, she couldn’t exactly lean over the coffee table, so Azriel placed the sushi on a pillow in her lap.

“Thank you,” she said and put a few pillows behind her back. From where he sat, he could only see the back of Elain’s head now. He wanted to move the chair so he could look at her, but he didn’t want to come off as creepy.

And he was actually quite happy that they couldn’t see each other when she took a bite of her food and let out a sigh. It was just a sigh, but somehow it was the most erotic sound Azriel had ever heard. He blushed and made a point of looking at his food.

“God, this is so good, Azriel. Thank you. I was really hungry.”

“When was the last time you ate?”

“Lunch,” she said under her breath and took another bite of sushi. Azriel looked at his watch. She hadn’t eaten in more than seven hours. And she was going to make instant ramen if he hadn’t shown up. Suddenly, he felt a bit better about the situation.

When Azriel looked up from his food, Elain was looking at him over her shoulder.

“Is this weird?” she asked. “Is it weird that I asked you to stay? I know it isn’t fun…”

“I kind of remember that I was the one who asked for your address, and then showed up at your doorstep with food. I promise that I wouldn't have done that if I didn’t want to. If anything, I’m weird for showing up like this.”

She laughed, but it was a sad laugh. “No, you’re not weird. You’re kind. I’m just not used to this.”

Azriel frowned. “Not used to what? Kindness?”

Elain looked away, but Azriel didn’t miss the slight nod. “My ex never came over when I was sick. He said that I was boring and that he had better things to do…”

Azriel felt his hands curl into fists. “Is this the same ex that cheated on you and now leaves hate on your videos?” he gritted out.

Another nod. “Yes. But there has been almost no hate since you helped me block those words.” She smiled at him, and he could tell that she wanted to change the subject.

“That’s good to hear.”

Azriel wanted nothing more than to ask where this asshole lived so he could go and kick his ass, but he tried to act civil for Elain’s sake.

“I’m sorry for talking about him,” she said. “You should never talk about exes on dates and…” Her eyes grew wide when she realized what she said. “Not that this is a date or anything,” she corrected herself. “I mean, it would be a pretty shitty date.”

She was flustered, and Azriel couldn’t hide the big grin on his face. She was so cute.

“Elain. Do you want this to be a date?”

“Do you?”

He knew that she needed to hear him say it. “Yes.”

A shy smile played on her face. “Me too.”

“Then it’s settled. This is our first date,” Azriel declared.

Elain’s smile grew. “So there’s a chance for more dates?”

“Don’t be greedy,” Azriel teased. Elain stuck out her tongue and turned around again, facing her food.

I want to taste that tongue, Azriel thought.

Damn those intrusive thoughts.

“I can’t believe that I’m wearing leggings on our first date.”

Azriel didn’t say anything to that. He could complain about anything that tight.

God, what was wrong with his brain tonight?

“You look so good, and I look like this,” she pointed at her hair. “I had even bought a new dress for tonight.”

This piqued Azriel’s interest. “Really? Tell me what it looks like and I can imagine you in it.”

Or out of it.

Stupid fucking brain.

Elain pointed somewhere behind Azriel. “Well, it’s right there.”

On a door that Azriel assumed led to her bedroom, hung a blue dress.

Cobalt blue.

His favorite color.

He grinned and pulled up one pant leg and showed her his sock “We would have matched.”

Elain let out a heartfelt laugh, which made Azriel all warm inside. He loved seeing her happy. He liked knowing that he was the reason for said happiness.

“I didn’t take you for a man that wears colorful socks,” she said, still laughing. “First Barbie Girl, and now colorful socks. I’m starting to think that there’s more to you than meets the eye.”

“Oh, I’m full of surprises.”

There was a stretch of silence again. It wasn’t uncomfortable though. Even though they didn’t know each other well yet, Azriel could already tell that Elain was one of those people that he just instantly could relax around.

“Elain, this might be a weird request. But can I move this chair so I’m not staring at the back of your head?”

Elain turned around, cheeks pink again. “Yes,” she answered quickly, almost as if she had thought about the same thing.

He picked up the chair and quickly moved it to the other side of the couch. When he met Elain’s gaze, she was staring at him, mouth agape.

“What?”

“You’re strong.”

Azriel scratched his neck and laughed nervously, feeling a bit self-conscious. “Yeah, I work out.”

Wow, what a stupid fucking answer.

But Elain didn’t seem to mind. No, she was looking at him more intently now, and her eyes were not focusing on his face anymore. No, they were most definitely looking at his chest. “I can tell,” she said playfully. This felt very much like flirting,

Azriel wondered what she would think of the tattoos covering his skin underneath the shirt.

Azriel tried to remember the conversation topics he had written down on his phone, and after a few minutes, they were talking as if they had known each other for years. Azriel was surprised that she was so easy to talk to. Most of the time, he struggled with social situations. But with Elain, he felt comfortable. At ease.

“You’re very easy to talk to,” he told Elain. She rewarded him with a smile.

“So are you. It feels like we have known each other forever. I never thought that someone that slid into my DM’s would ever be this nice.”

At those words, Nesta’s face popped into Azriel’s mind. He should tell Elain that he knows Nesta. If it wasn’t for her, he would never have known that Elain lived in Velaris. If it wasn’t for Nesta, he wouldn’t have happened to run past her store that morning.

“I have a confession to make,” he said before he could change his mind.

Elain raised her eyebrows. “Oh? Please don’t tell me you’re trying to get me to join a cult.”

“Has that happened before?”

Elain shrugged. “More often than you think.”

“I’m not trying to get you to join a cult. I just… I wanted to tell you that I think that we have some mutual friends.”

She didn’t look surprised, but she didn’t say anything either, so Azriel continued.

“You know Nesta, right? I think you went to college together…”

Elain nodded.

“Well, she’s getting married to my best friend Cassian. I didn’t know that you knew them when I wrote to you, I promise. But it felt weird pretending like we don’t have people in common when we do. I’m sorry for not telling you earlier. I found out last week when Nesta saw one of your videos on my phone and asked me if I was a stalker.”

Azriel was blushing now. He was expecting silence, or maybe questions. But instead, he was met with laughter.

“She thought you were a stalker?”

Azriel shrugged, unable to find any good words.

“Well, I might also have a confession to make,” Elain announced. “I actually knew that you were friends with Nesta. That’s why I even answered your DM in the first place.”

“What?” Azriel couldn’t find better words than that.

“Yeah, when I scrolled through your Instagram I saw a photo from Rhysand’s and Feyre’s wedding, so I kind of figured out who you were then. Nesta had mentioned you once or twice before, so I knew you weren’t a creep. And then I saw that selfie when you were carrying a lasagna, and you looked so good, so I answered your DM.” Her blush had almost turned a deep red.

Azriel couldn’t help but grin. “You answered because I looked hot? You said that the lasagna looked tasty…”

She bit her lip to keep from laughing. “Want to hear another confession?”

Azriel nodded.

“Well, I kind of understood how to block words from the link you sent me, but I really wanted to talk to you more.”

Azriel’s mouth fell open in pretend shock. “Sneaky girl.”

“I’m sorry for not telling you earlier. I just…”

“No, no. It’s okay,” Azriel interrupted. “Do you want to hear another of my confessions?”

“Yes, please.”

Azriel put his elbows in his knees and leaned forward. He could tell that her eyes went to his biceps. Good.

“Well, when I first saw one of your videos, I thought that you might be the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

Elain blushed even more, the color spreading to her chest. Not that Azriel was looking there.

“Really?”

“Yes. And when we talked on the phone, you know, that time when you lied about needing my help,” Azriel winked at her. “I hadn’t laughed that much in ages. I was so bummed because I thought that you lived on the other side of the country or something.”

“But I didn’t.” She smiled.

“You didn’t.” He smiled back.

They spent the entire night in Elain’s living room, just talking. Without even noticing it, a few hours went by. When they finished the sushi, Azriel made a snack buffet on the coffee table, which made Elain laugh.

“We are going to be so sick if we eat all of this.”

“Well, someone told me that she might be bedridden for more than a week, so maybe you could save some for the upcoming days of rest and relaxation.”

“Sounds like a plan,” she said and reached for the popcorn.

They continued flirting for the rest of the evening, but nothing explicit happened. They didn’t touch. Didn’t kiss. They just talked. It was all Azriel could have dreamt of. He had never felt so comfortable so quickly with anyone before. When it was close to midnight, he could tell that Elain was getting tired. After her fifth yawn, Azriel told her that he should probably get going.

She protested and then yawned again.

“Okay, I admit defeat,” she said and stretched. Azriel could see her stomach when her shirt rode up from the motion. It looked so wonderful and soft and…

He didn’t even have time to finish his thought, because Elain was trying to stand up by herself. Trying, and failing miserably.

“Could you help me to the bathroom?” she whispered and nodded to a white door just by the kitchen.

“Of course,” Azriel put his arm around her waist and supported her. She didn’t complain, but he could see the pain on her face. It hurt him to see her like this.

“I’m just gonna brush my teeth. Don’t go just yet.” She closed the door. Azriel leaned against the wall next to the door and dragged his hands through his hair.

He looked around the room, not quite believing that he was here. In Elain’s home.

This date had been even better than he could ever have imagined. He was actually quite happy that they hadn’t gone out, but he obviously didn’t like that the reason for staying home was that she was hurt.

The door opened again, and Elain looked at Azriel with a pale face. She was so obviously in pain. Azriel grabbed her around the waist again and held her up.

“Do you have any painkillers?”

She nodded. “By the bed. Could you help me? Just to the door.”

Azriel started leading the way, but after two steps Elain winced.

Azriel couldn’t take it anymore. “Hold on,” he warned her, and then he picked her up. She gasped and flung her arms around his neck. This was the closest they had ever been. One of his fingers graced the hem of her shirt. He could feel her skin there. He had to take a deep breath. “Is this okay?”

“Mhm,” she breathed, and he walked her to her room. He stopped at the door. It was a cozy bedroom. The walls were painted a dark blue and above her bed hung a giant painting with a floral motif in a gold frame.

“Nice room,” he said. He didn’t put her down. She had said that she only needed help to the door, but he couldn’t see her walking to her bed all by herself,

“Thank you.”

“Do you want me to...” he started, but he was interrupted when Elain said his name.

“Azriel,” she repeated.

He looked at her then, her face just inches from his. He could see every freckle on her skin. He could count every eyelash. His eyes went to her plush lips, and then back to her eyes.

Had she noticed?

She had his attention now.

“Azriel,” she whispered. “Are you going to kiss me?”

Azriel was taken aback. He hadn’t expected that question. He didn’t mind, of course not. he was just surprised. She could probably see that in his eyes, because she quickly tried to smooth over it. “I mean, we don’t have to. I completely understand if you don’t want to, and I..”

Azriel kissed her temple to make her quiet. It worked very well. “You’re hurt.”

“Just my ankle,” Elain pouted. “Also, haven’t you ever heard the saying ‘kiss it better’?”

Azriel rolled his eyes. “I’m pretty sure that it means that you should kiss the place that hurts,” he teased.

“Eh, semantics. I think a kiss on the lips might do wonders.”

Azriel leaned in, almost touching his lips to her. Almost. “Oh, is that what you think?” he teased.

“Mhm,” she breathed.

Azriel stayed like that for a while, his lips just out of reach. He wanted her to beg. He wanted her to go crazy with want. With need.

But that was for another time. Right now, he just needed to kiss her.

Elain was tilting her head to get closer to him. Her mouth was slightly parted and her eyes scanned his before fluttering shut.

Offer and permission.

Azriel leaned in slowly and brushed his lips to hers. It was a feathery light touch. He could feel Elain shiver in his arms, and he held her closer. Tighter. He touched her lips with his again, and he knew he needed more. He tasted her lips once more, his tongue teasing her lower lip. Elain opened up for him, letting him in. She moaned when he deepened the kiss. When he pressed his lips more firmly to hers. When her tongue joined his. They were both panting, unable to stop. Elain’s hands went to Azriel’s hair, gently scraping his scalp while her tongue tangled with his. The sensation made Azriel crazy, and if she hadn’t been injured he would have lowered her to the bed and continued his kisses down her body until she was writhing underneath him, begging for more.

But she was hurt. And it was late.

Unwillingly, Azriel slowed down before breaking the kiss.

“More,” Elain panted and kissed his jaw.

Azriel chuckled. “Don’t be greedy.”

She pouted when he walked over to her bed, and it was the cutest pout Azriel had ever seen. It was so cute in fact, that he had to lean in again and kiss her lower lip. He didn’t know how it happened, but he was suddenly sitting on Elain’s bed with her in his lap. He was still holding her tight, her fingers still in his hair. Their lips were locked in another kiss. This one was even hotter. Even deeper. Azriel thought to himself that he didn’t need air if he could just taste these lips for the rest of his life.

After a small eternity, they did have to break apart though. Turns out the human body needs air. Stupid body.

Elain leaned her forehead against his.

“I should go,” Azriel said, even though every fiber of his being protested that statement.

She nodded. “Okay.” She was still out of breath. So was he.

Elain kissed his forehead, which made him feel oddly safe. “So, can I have a second date?”

Azriel chuckled and nuzzled her neck. She smelled divine. He wanted nothing more than to taste her there; just below her ear.

“You can have as many dates as you want.”

“Good to know.” He could hear the smile in her voice.

After a few minutes of catching their breaths, Azriel helped Elain into bed. He fetched her a glass of water for the painkillers and made sure that all her windows were closed.

He leaned against her doorframe, trying to memorize the sight of her in bed. She looked so cute. So vulnerable.

“Could you lock the door when you leave? My keys are on the kitchen counter. You can just put them in the mailbox.”

“Of course.” Azriel walked into her room again and leaned over her. He kissed the top of her head and caressed her cheek with his thumb. “Sleep well, Elain.”

“You too, Azriel.”

She was already drifting off.

Azriel walked quietly through the apartment and made sure that the door was locked behind him.

Azriel was walking home on clouds that evening.

In his bones, he could feel that this was the start of something wonderful.

When he climbed into bed that night, he saw a new message from Elain. She must have sent it just after he left her place. He opened the message, and there was no text. Just an audio file.

He pressed play and was immediately met with her heavenly voice.

“I thought that this might help you sleep,” Elain whispered, and Azriel could feel tingles up and down his spine. “Thank you for a wonderful date, Azriel.”

And then she repeated his name. For five minutes, she was whispering “Azriel, Azriel, Azriel,” over and over again, and it made Azriel both sleepy and aroused.

It was actually a very pleasant feeling, he thought to himself as he drifted off to sleep.

That night, he dreamt about brown eyes, golden hair, and the sweetest lips he had ever tasted. Azriel had never felt better.