#like previously when a song is playing
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pokimoko · 11 months ago
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Listening to instrumentals from the silly doo-wee-ooo show is actually something that can be so painful.
#doctor who#doctor who music#murray gold#segun akinola#musings about music#this is specifically about 10's theme in vale decem. the long song in 11's regen piece. and clara's theme in face the raven / clara's diner#i get psychic damage everytime i simply hear the use of the motifs elsewhere because of the tragic associations those sadder renditions hav#obviously these songs aren't the only examples in doctor who but they are by far the most emotionally devastating ones for me personally#and obviously it isn't just leitmotifs either. basically hearing any piece that played during a sad scene gets to me.#how are you supposed to explain to your coworkers that you're tearing up because of instrumental sound association?#'yeah sorry these violins and humming sounds summoned vivid images of my favourite character dying/leaving and it made me sad'#love that composers can just straight up pavlov bell your emotions by getting you to associate a melody with a sad scene#an addition to this is doctor who instrumentals that make me nostalgic because I associate them with my own past#like 'this is gallifrey: our childhood. our home'. that song was one of my alarms for a good long while back when i was 15ish#so it kinda transports me back to that time in my life whenever i hear it. music really is its own little kind of time travel#i am very much looking forward to the continuing psychological damage murray gold will inflict upon me in the new season#and to have previously uplifting character leitmotifs used against me and forever be contaminated with sad feelings. love to see it#(also: not a instrumental but damn 'the stowaway' has no right being as good as it is. who knew a christmas sea shanty could sound so great#apologies for this probably niche-ish post (is it niche to know ost title's by heart? asking for friend). just feeling things about music
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musicrunsthroughmysoul · 2 years ago
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I love during that interview when Stan is talking about playing piano/keyboard on a song (or songs, plural? I forget now, sorry) and he's like "Whenever I can even get in the area code of Benmont Tench, I'm happy" like UDEFHUILSHFSHFHUSF the mutual respect of my favorite bands' band members is and will always be my favorite thing. :')
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xx-obliviousfantasy-xx · 2 months ago
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"I live in blissful ignorance about whatever the fuck This is about" is me bc wtf is this??? 😅
Honestly, I've had more damage done to me by the alarms my parents/family had over the years I grew up than what I chose.
Like why the fuck did I have an awful reaction the Seinfeld theme the first time I heard it outside of the alarm?!! 😭
Why can't I listen to my brother okay Yonkers anymore???
(There's so many others I can't recall until it happens)
(I mean I won't lie, I've had mistakes before but none with too bad of consequences)
My MISTAKE was definitely actually my RINGTONE AND NOTIFICATION SOUNDS!!!!
I should not be sitting down to watch my favorite show/movie only to pause it, frantically pull out my phone and then realize "O h"
AND I SHOULD NOT BE GETTING TRICKED BY TIK TOKS USING THE SAME SOUND BITES!!!!
Hey kids here's a piece of actual for real experienced adult advice: don't make songs you like your alarm. Ever. You're gonna Pavlov yourself into hating it or sleep through it and have weird dreams. Don't do that to yourself. Seriously.
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kooktrash · 5 months ago
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UKIYO ✧ jeon Jungkook
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summary: it’s the start of summer and there’s nothing better than dipping your toes in the sand and falling for a local boy who plays beach volleyball in his free time. he’s charming in a way you’ve never seen and you seem to understand each other better than one could imagine. both stuck in an awkward time of self discovery, you try to live in the moment and forget about your worries till they become too hard to ignore.
The Japanese word ukiyo (pronounced "u-key-yo") means "living in the moment" or "detached from the troubles of life".
✧ genre/au: summer romance, local beach boy!jk x city girl!y/n, [she/her, afab]
✧ 17.7k words
warnings: smut, fluff, ‘coming of age’ but they’re in their twenties, jk falls first. oral [f receiving]. unprotected bc they’re literally on a boat. hair pulling. jk is kinda rich boy. oc seems mean but she’s got mean vibes but just sassy and jk likes it. jk was previously engaged. law student jk. intimate missionary. jk is a volleyball player. think beach town vibes. his ex is kinda stuck up—all his friends are. jk is kinda lovesick puppy who needs aftercare lol
inspired by, Nicholas Sparks’ “The Last Song”
songs: tyrant — coldplay, mind over matter — young the giant, left hands free — alt-j, omg — suki waterhouse, sex drug etc — beach weather
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For a long time, summer was the only thing to look forward to in the year. The days were longer spent outside enjoying time with your friends and letting yourself sleep in until noon. As you grew older with more responsibilities that didn’t suddenly disappear when the temperature grew warmer, you began to lose feelings for the season. It made no difference in your life anymore and you longed for the days it would.
Maybe that’s why it was so easy for you to drop everything and leave your worries behind. A couple months in the sun, no stress, nothing holding you back.
”I still can’t believe I managed to convince you,” Your friend said for the third time in the last hour. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, again, “I still can’t believe it either, don’t make me regret it.”
Hoseok mocked you using a high pitched voice, turning the Jeep Wrangler into the driveway of a modern beach house, “How could you regret these next few weeks waking up to the waves crashing on the shore?”
”What magazine did you read that off of?” Your friend asked from the backseat, laughing to herself at his expense, “I hate when you talk corny.”
”Whatever, you guys are so ungrateful,” Hoseok jokes, pulling the car in ‘park’ and powering the engine off, “Next time I’ll invite someone else to come with—someone who I won't have to beg!”
”Boohoo,” You pretended to whine, getting out of the car and racing to get to your luggage first, “You love begging for me.”
”You wish,” He says with a scoff, “Hurry up and find your rooms, I want to get down to the beach as soon as possible.”
The beach was at its peak time of day where the sun sat the highest and almost every foot of sand was covered with people’s belongings. Not far from shore were rows of volleyball courts and crowds of people watching and as much as you wanted to avoid that busy side, it was the way to the boardwalk. You had no choice but to follow your friends in that direction. They were steps before you, already arguing about which store to go into first or what food stand you’ll go to but you were distracted by the large Ferris wheel in the back.
Maybe your focus should have been on the matches happening all around you but by the time you realized that it was too late. The white ball barely grazed your side when a tall figure headed straight into you with a loud thud.
A low grunt left your lips as you hit the sand with such a force that it physically ached for a moment. Your hands and face were practically covered in sand it was hard to acknowledge whatever gibberish your assailant spat out.
He didn’t have time to get a good look at you as he rushed to his feet, taking your arm and pulling you up abruptly, “Shit, I’m so sorry, I—“
“It’s fine,” your tone came out harsher than expected and it probably had something to do with the guy who loomed over you, and how embarrassed you felt. Up ahead your two friends were barely realizing you weren’t behind them and turning to find you, laughing once they did.
The stranger let his gaze trace over you with sudden curiosity, not at all intimidated by your attempt at a scowl. Now that he was looking at you up close, he had to admit he liked what he saw. He couldn’t help but grin nervously, “I’m sorry.”
His smile made you glare as you dusted sand off your jeans, “Really? I can’t tell.”
“I… it’s just, usually when there’s a ball flying people tend to dodge it,” he was walking backwards now as you tried leaving, he wanted to face you when he talked and it made his cocky smile all the more unbearable. You’ve just met the guy and he hadn’t given the best impression yet. Honestly, you’re just tired from the trip and you’re hungry so you blame that on your mood but you just want to escape this embarrassment of falling.
A scoff left your lips, “Are you saying that this is my fault? Maybe if you all played the game on the court, you wouldn’t have run after it.”
You were giving him attitude and yet he didn’t back down from returning it with a sweet smile.
“Jungkook!” Someone called from behind but the guy didn’t bother to even look back at the paused game. Instead he kept up with you, “You’re right, it’s partially my fault too so how can I make this up to you?”
You stopped walking, looking at him. You didn’t know him and he didn’t know you so there was no need to hold him up from his game any longer, “Don’t worry about it.”
“But I can’t go on like this,” The stranger, Jungkook, said, “Not until I know you’re not mad anymore.”
The way you rolled your eyes excited him in a good way. He wasn’t amusing enough for you and it was rare for him not to be.
“Jungkook! Come on man, the game!”
“Y/n!” Hoseok said loudly, “Hurry up, I’m starving.”
Just like that, the two of you walked away from each other and you had to tell yourself not to look back at him. You didn’t want to catch him doing the same before he went back to playing.
“Are you okay?” Hyeri asked, still laughing lightly, helping you shake off sand, “I was going to help you but then I saw you talking to that hot guy and I didn’t want to intervene.”
“So considerate,” you mumbled sarcastically, trying to hide your smile as you walked the steps up to the pier and forgot about whatever was happening on the sand.
The stranger really was attractive, and if he hadn’t toppled you over like it was nothing you might have stayed a little longer. When you spotted him below you couldn’t help but look him over. He wore a pair of blue and white striped swimming trunks and no shirt which gave you a good look at his muscular back and sleeve of tattoos. Compared to the players around him, he looked noticeably different from the rest and you kind of liked that.
“What are we eating?” You asked your friends who shrugged, still indecisive.
Hours after the sunset and Jungkook’s adrenaline from winning began to slowly settle down, he walked along the boardwalk with his partner. The two of them are trying to waste time for a while before their night plans come along.
“I know Yeaun is around here somewhere and if she’s here then that means Chae-hi isn’t far,” Jimin said looking around the crowded boardwalk while Jungkook followed behind lazily, “Which means a fun night for us so let’s find them.”
He could hear what Jimin was saying but he wasn’t truly listening. His attention had drifted away from the conversation the second he looked to the side and found a familiar silhouette in the distance. Well, not too familiar but he recognized it from when he crashed into you earlier.
You were with your friends at some jewelry stand looking over all the handmade bracelets and necklaces, such a short distance from him. He could easily make it over to you in no time.
“I don’t really want to see Yeaun,” Jungkook said, eyes trained on you. Jimin groaned in response, whipping back to his friend and shaking his head. He followed his line of sight and jumped in front of him.
“No, look over here, we’ve got plans,” Jimin said hoping to pull Jungkook’s attention away from some stranger, “We told Chae-hi and Yeaun we’d met them tonight.”
“No, you have plans, I never agreed to anything,” Jungkook said with a laugh, clearly amused. He tried to see if you were still there but when he looked back you were already walking away.
“Don’t be that way, think about me. Your best friend, who has been trying to get with Chae-hi for weeks now,” Jimin begged, making Jungkook sigh with defeat. He didn’t say anything as he motioned for Jimin to lead the way and went on with his life.
There’s a story about how you found yourself moving into a beach house with your best friends for the summer. The opportunity sort of fell at your feet when Hoseok’s sister had to leave abroad for a couple months because of her job. She lived in a nice house on the beach that would need to be looked after and that’s when she decided to tell her younger brother about it.
Not long after, he came to you and Hyeri and asked if you wanted to join. It took a long time for him to convince you but when you realized how shitty life currently was back home, there was nothing holding you back.
Your first week has been fun getting to enjoy the warm water and sand between your toes. You’ve gotten into a bit of a routine in the area and you’ve begun to familiarize yourself with the roads and places. That’s probably why you were doing Hoseok a favor by helping him out today.
He’s busy taking care of some errands for his sister and asked if you could bring his car into the shop for some maintenance, considering Hyeri liked sleeping past noon, you had no choice but to agree to it all on your own.
“What can we do for you?” A guy in a dark gray button up and oil streaks across his hands asked you once you made it to the auto shop.
“Just an oil change.”
Jungkook had nearly forgotten about his encounter on the beach. There wasn’t much for him to remember anyway and he’s never been the type to hold onto something so meaningless. He carried on with his usual routine and busied himself away at work.
The shop he worked at was busy all of the time and it was a great distraction from whatever else happened in his life so he truly loved it. He loved getting to work with cars and getting his hands dirty. He worked with people he was friends with and sometimes, if he’s really lucky, someone who catches his attention will stagger in.
When he found you standing in the office with his boss signing papers he was visibly taken back. He had been too busy helping Namjoon take a wheel off a black Sedan, to notice when you came in but he was too late now. You were already finishing up whatever you were doing with Jin and leaving.
“I’ll be back,” Jungkook told Namjoon, tossing him the wrench he had been using and heading straight to the front.
You went across the street to the small diner and he had to think about this. Part of him didn’t feel the need to see you again, mostly because he was embarrassed by toppling you over and probably how he sounded. Part of him wanted to ask for your name, apologize and try and see if you’ll talk to him.
“I’m taking an early lunch,” Jungkook told him without much of a car as he hurried to clock out and leave for the diner.
You sat alone in a booth with your laptop open and scrolling through a website filled with job offers. It was partially out of boredom and a reminder that you needed to find somewhere for when you get back home. You could look for something in the field you used to study in but how far could you get with it?
“Excuse me,” he stood in front of you now, “I don’t know if you remember me from a few days ago but—“
“I remember,” you said blandly, looking up at Jungkook with a mixture of boredom and a small hint of possible curiosity. He looked very different with a shirt on, his abs weren’t as distracting but he still had an intimidating build. That’s why his pretty face surprised you under all that sweat and car grease. He was clearly one of the mechanics and has somehow made his way to you.
“Right, uh,” he swooped in to sit across from you, “I wanted to apologize. I didn’t mean to knock you down and sometimes when I’m playing, I kinda get a little too excited so I’m sure I was just talking and talking.”
You’re assuming he meant how he followed after you and smiled so arrogantly when you looked visibly annoyed with him. What you don’t get is why he’s apologizing again, you weren’t still upset over that.
“It’s fine,” you reminded him with a confused look, trying to read what he was really here for, “You work across the street?”
“Yeah, I’m Jungkook,” He finally introduced himself, “I saw you earlier and it was time for lunch so I came to talk to you.”
You didn’t say anything for a while and the silence wasn’t broken until the waitress came and asked what Jungkook would like. He brushed her off with a ‘Whatever she’s having’ and looked at you curiously.
“Okay,” You’re definitely not from around here because he would’ve recognized you so just who are you? He cleared his throat awkwardly, “Um, yknow, usually when someone gives you their name you say yours back.”
“Y/n,” You said distantly, “Can I ask you something?”
“Yes, anything,” Jungkook sat straighter, almost reaching up to fix his hair but stopping himself. He wasn’t nervous or anything but you’re not speaking to him with the same flirtatious tone and it’s confusing him.
“What are some fun things you can do around here other than the usual tourist stuff?” You asked him suddenly, “You are a local, I assume.”
“You assume right,” Jungkook nodded as he bit his lip in thought, “I could always show you better than I can tell you.”
“You’re a funny guy, y’know?” You smiled, “But seriously, what is there to do?”
He’s pretty sure that was just a rejection so it took him a moment to bounce back from it and tried to catch himself from doing it again.
By the time the car was ready, you were paying for your meal and hurrying to leave while Jungkook ate and enjoyed the last of his break. For the rest of the day he found himself thinking about you.
He’s lived a very repetitive and predictable life. Since early childhood he’s had the same classmates and friends, and gone to the same places and events. He’s known the same girls and has hung out with the same people for years. The only time he got any sense of independence is when he was gone for law school but now that he’s done and has returned home for the sake of his family and friends, he’s reminded once again of the repetitiveness.
Maybe that’s why he’s a little excited to meet someone new. He just had a strong feeling that you were more interesting than you let on and he wanted to know more.
He didn’t know that you felt the same and had to ignore these thoughts so you wouldn’t start anything with him. Jungkook was attractive and you’ve moved on from the fall aside from the slight bruising, and you were just trying to enjoy your time. Did you really need to meet someone?
In all honesty, he didn’t seem as arrogant covered in sweat, he looked good and he seemed nice.
But did that mean you wanted to waste your time with him?
It was a crush, nothing but a small, schoolboy crush that occupied his mind from time to time. In all honesty, it was easy to ignore when he got carried away in his day to day life, it’s only when he sees you or you cross his mind for the shortest of seconds, that he finds himself getting lost. He doesn’t care for the girls his best friend likes to hang around, nor does he feel the need to upturn himself out there. Lately, all he’s wanted is to be with someone who makes him forget about himself and maybe he wasn’t looking in the right places if he thought you could help.
It was wishful thinking for him to hold so much thought over a stranger who couldn’t care less to know his name, but that’s what he liked. He wondered when he would run into you again, what he might say in hopes of getting a response and what would happen after that. He even wondered if you’d be at the beach tonight while everyone told ghost stories and drank bottles of Soju one after the other.
What does he say when he finally sees you looking at him?
You spotted him first, hating how much you wanted for him to look up and see you too. He was with his friends and you had no intentions to approach him but… well, he was cute. You can’t act like he isn’t and he’s oddly charming which makes him memorable but it was a bad idea. This trip was meant to be fun with your friends and that’s it—you weren’t going to make time for strangers.
“For once we don’t have to worry about an Uber and can walk our asses home,” Hoseok said standing over a keg, “So I don’t know about you guys, but I’m blacking out tonight.”
”When has anything ever stopped you from accomplishing that?” You asked him, turning your back to the familiar stranger, “You’re never the one ordering it anyway.”
”No, he’s usually the one we’re pushing into the backseat,” Hyeri joined in on the teasing.
“Shh, why do I always feel judged by you two? Is this what friends are for?” Hoseok pretended to be hurt as he filled your cup with beer.
“She’s not from around here, is she?” Jungkook asked as he looked across at you. You haven’t noticed him—he doesn’t think—but he’s noticed you and for some reason that excited him. Well, for one specific reason and it was simply the fact that he likes you. Does he know enough about you to pinpoint this statement? No, but he knows that he feels strange when you’re around. That has to mean something. The longest relationship he’s ever been in was with Yeaun and he doesn’t remember feeling this excited to meet someone.
“How would I know?” Jimin asked when a scoff, barely bothering to look over at you. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes, “You rather think about her than Yeaun? You’re insane.”
“Are you sure it’s Chae-hi you like and not Yeaun? You sure do bring her up around me a lot,” Jungkook rolled his eyes.
“Isn’t it obvious? I want you to get back together with Yeaun so that Chae-hi will think about me instead of her ‘heartbroken’ friend,” Jimin handed him a cup of beer, “Take one for the team.”
“No, I don’t think so,” He chuckled, “We broke up for a reason so don’t push it.”
“Not a good reason,” Jimin mumbled under his breath but Jungkook chose to ignore it.
“There you are,” the devil herself said as she found him, “We were wondering where you two ran off, right?”
“Right,” Chae-hi agreed, “Hi Jimin.”
“So, it’s kind of boring here isn’t it?” Yeaun asked looking at Jungkook for assurance, “Plus all the low lives are starting to come in and I really don’t want to be around any of them. We were wondering if you guys wanted to come back to mine.”
“To do what?” Jimin asked while Jungkook stood back disinterested and distracted. He couldn’t even pretend to be interested when he was focused on someone else entirely.
By pure luck, he looked back to see if you were still standing where you were before and this time you locked eyes with him. Without much care for the conversation he was supposed to be in right now, he walked off while they discussed plans involving a hot tub.
“I’m starting to think you’re following me,” Jungkook first said as you nearly bumped into him in an attempt to get closer to the bonfire. He walked alongside you with ease, “First, on the court, then at my job and now here?”
That made you snort in disbelief, shaking your head and trying not to smile, “Someone seems flattered but I think you have it the wrong way.”
“As in I’m the one doing the most to run into you? No, never,” Jungkook spoke dramatically, “This is all by chance. There’s no way I could’ve seen you from over there and decided to come and talk to you instead. That would make me seem desperate, wouldn’t it?”
“It would,” you agreed, slightly amused now as you broke into a small smile, “I didn’t take you as the type.”
“Well that’s because you haven’t tried to get to know me, I’m honestly a catch,” Jungkook joked lightly, following you where you walked off to, “Or are you scared?”
“Scared? Of what?” You asked, stopping abruptly and turning to face him with furrowed brows. He couldn’t help but smirk, “Oh I don’t know… getting to know someone new. You give me the vibe that you don’t like meeting new people.”
“I love meeting new people,” You exaggerated childishly, “When they don’t fall on top of me.”
“I caught myself, so let’s not lie now,” Jungkook snorted, “Besides, who’s the one who walked into the middle of a game?”
As he said that, the two of you seemed to have drifted far enough from where the fire had been going, that you found yourself not too far from one of the volleyball nets on the shore. Jungkook looked down at you with clear amusement as you looked up at the net and he walked up to the abandoned volleyball that sat in the sand.
“Do you eat, sleep, and breathe volleyball?” You jokingly asked, finally giving Jungkook some response that implied you were interested in him even slightly.
“Only on the weekends, sometimes around noon or after work if I’m free,” Jungkook told you, picking up the ball, “Do you play?”
“No,” you told him as he began to bounce the ball back and forth between his hands. You looked back at your friends who seemed preoccupied with whatever new friends they made for the night.
“It’s easy,” Jungkook said, “There’s really only one basic rule, don’t let the ball touch the ground.”
“Are you giving me a lesson now?” You asked with slight amusement as he moved to the other side of the net, “I’m warning you, I won’t be any good at it.”
“I’ll take it easy on you,” Jungkook tossed the ball your way and although you reached out to hit it, you missed and it landed a few feet behind you. He couldn’t help but laugh, “Okay, maybe you try and throw it.”
“But how do I throw it?” You looked up the tall net wondering how you would make it over. You held it up and tried doing a practice hit while he tried teaching you.
“Just try a simple serve, you can hit it from under or thro—“
“Oh my god,” you broke out into a nervous laugh as Jungkook covered his face with his hand. The ball sat at his feet, completely oblivious to the fact it had just pummeled straight into his face. You covered your mouth in an attempt to stop laughing but you were embarrassed and couldn’t do anything but try and laugh it off, “I’m so sorry.”
“Really? I can’t tell?” Jungkook said sarcastically, sounding eerily similar to you when you first met but still playful. In all honesty, the pain wasn’t too bad but it was humiliating and the only thing he could think about is how you’re trying not to laugh, “You think it’s funny?”
“No! No, I don’t, I just um,” you tried to stop, “I just…”
“You just what?” Jungkook looked at you, slowly making his way to your side and you inadvertently began to step back, worried he might actually be upset, “You like laughing at causing other people pain?”
“Did it actually hurt?” You asked with surprise, still stepping back the closer he got.
“My ego, yeah,” he joked, “And I feel like we need to get even.”
“We did, think about it as me getting back at you for the other day!” You tried to say, feeling the edge of the ride begin to touch your feet the farther you walked from him.
“Really? So this was all part of revenge?” Jungkook asked, “I don’t think so, I suggest you run.”
“What?” You stopped to think, “Jungk—“
And it began. He kicked water at you once the tide was close again and without thinking, you jumped back. You weren’t wearing a bathing suit or anything appropriate for the water so he can’t. You’re in a simple top and flowy, long skirt, not something you wanted wet, “Don’t you dare.”
“Why? Scared of a little water?” He tried to kick water again but this time you moved back in time and he smirked, “It’s better than getting hit in the face. Will you take care of me if I get a concussion?”
You scoffed, laughing, “Don’t you wis—Jungkook!”
He ran after you as you took off in a jog and before he knew it, you were splashing water back at him, not caring about how wet you got. The night was young and you were having a good time, there wasn’t much to worry about other than making sure you got Jungkook before he could get you.
Not far from where the two of you played in the ocean with the moon reflecting against the waves, a few pairs of eyes watched you unimpressed. Jimin didn’t have much to think about the matter, he just couldn’t understand it. Why would Jungkook waste his time on someone he didn’t even know?
Yeaun was right here desperate to have him back and instead he’s wandered off with some stranger acting childish. It doesn’t make sense, and neither does the big grin on Jungkook’s face once he caught you and tackled you into the low tide, both getting drenched in water.
“Jungkook!” He ignored the call of his name as he watched you shake sand out of your hair with curiosity. You looked annoyed even if you smiled and he knows you probably are considering he pushed you into the water but you’re not cussing him out yet. You’re not screaming at him for getting you into the water so maybe it was a good sign.
“Are we even now?” You asked breathlessly as you looked forward to where your friends were and turned away from Jungkook.
“I guess, for now at least,” He teased, walking toward Jimin, “It depends on if I bruise or not.”
“I didn’t hit you that hard,” you scoffed, smiling and shaking your head in disbelief. At some point in your ascend back up the shore, Jungkook got you to finally give him your number. You didn’t question when his friend approached him, going on about something you didn’t bother listening to and turned in search for someone you knew.
“You look like you need a towel,” someone said from your right. It took you a second to realize she was talking to you, much less holding out a clean towel for you.
“Thanks,” you said, trying to wipe off some of the sand with the beach towel the stranger handed to you. Hyeri was off talking with some guy and you had no clue where Hoseok was so as of now, you were on your own here. The girl was pretty and she seemed nice enough so you didn’t mind responding to her approach.
“I’m getting sand all over it,” you tried to make some sort of conversation, “Sorry, I’m Y/n.”
“Don’t even worry about it, I’m Yeaun,” She said with a smile, “You’re not from around here, are you?”
“Is it that obvious?” You asked, laughing lightly. Yeaun just shrugged as she got closer to you, “Not really, but, well… there’s just some people you should always avoid.”
Your brows began to furrow with confusion, “Like?”
“No, I don’t want to start anything,” she shook her head no, “We don’t know each other and you’ll probably think I’m meddling but… okay, Jeon Jungkook.”
You didn’t say anything to that as you tried to get a good look at the girl. Yeaun was pretty with sun-kissed skin and golden hair that shone under the moonlight. She seemed soft and glowed with a brightness that felt contagious but you didn’t know her. You don’t know why she brought up Jungkook or why she even approached you so you had nothing to say back to her.
“I just mean… you’re not from around here and you seem smart,” Yeaun said sympathetically, “Jungkook’s kind of a known player and I don’t want you to fall for his tricks, trust me, he’s not worth it.”
“Trust me, it’s not like that,” you said, suddenly disinterested in conversation with her and more focused on finding your friends, “Thanks for looking out for me though.”
Yeaun watched you walk away and not bother to turn back and she had to leave like it didn’t bother her to be brushed to the side. She can’t tell if you took what she said into consideration or if you couldn’t care less and she didn’t like that. She didn’t like that she didn’t know you and she didn’t know about your relationship with Jungkook or how you know him.
His life was utterly perfect to anyone who thought about it. He had the bestest of friends, the closest family, the most money and a promising future. Everything he had ever wanted was handed right to him and in a sense, it made him arrogant. It was a given that he would end up that way and maybe that’s why he’s always surrounded himself with people of the like. He didn’t despise any of his friends, just sometimes, when he listened to the conversations they would have, he wanted to disagree.
“Yeaun said you’ve been avoiding her,” Jin said as he pulled a golf club out of his bag.
”Great, now you’re talking about her too?” Jungkook asked, lining his club up with a shiny white golf ball, “I already get enough of it from my parents and Jimin.”
“Well yeah, when you suddenly call off a year long engagement with someone you’ve known all your life, people question it,” Jin said, watching Jungkook swing the club back and shoot the ball into the air, “We’re worried about you.”
“Don’t be,” Jungkook mumbled, “Besides, there’s someone else, I don’t know if you know her, her name’s Y/n.”
“Doesn’t ring a bell,” Jin shrugged, moving his visor down to block more of the summer sun out of his eyes. He wore white golfing gloves and a pair of Raybans, making him look straight out of a country club catalog.
Jungkook sighed, growing more restless by the minute. He’s only seen you on few occasions and he’s yet to leave a good impression on you where he can ask for your number or something, “She was hanging out with this guy, I know you know him but I can’t think of his name—you dated his sister.”
“Hoseok?” Jin asked, “I remember hearing about how he was in town. How do you know this isn’t his girlfriend you’re hitting on?”
“It’s not,” Jungkook said, “I don’t think. I don’t know.”
“But what about her?” Jin asked, hopping in the passenger’s side of the golf cart, “You don’t know a thing about the girl but you like her and you’re willing to throw away your future because of it.”
“I’m not throwing anything away,” Jungkook said with a scoff, “But whatever, you don’t get it.”
He spent the evening golfing on a private course not far from the beach where you wandered around with a book in hand.
You enjoyed passing time with your friends but sometimes, you just needed time to yourself and you would find yourself wandering off on your own without much care for anything else. Your friends didn’t mind when you went off and you always made sure to tell them where you would go so there was never any problem. Ever since you got here, you’ve been doing things on your own.
“I knew I would find you around here.”
You didn’t respond at first, still debating if the person was talking to you, but one look up told you he was. Although you wanted to resist the urge to smile, you couldn’t help it.
“Stalker,” You said with a small sigh, closing your book. He didn’t say anything as he took a seat down in the sand next to you. “You’re on my turf, remember? What are you reading by the way?”
You glanced at the cover of your book, “Nothing exciting—how’d you know I was here?”
“I looked for a dark, brooding figure and assumed it was you,” Jungkook joked, “And just an fyi, my face still hurts.”
“I’m sure you've been hit worse,” You said sarcastically, sitting up and watching him get comfortable. He was dressed in a light color linen button up and shorts, the first buttons were undone and a cliche shell necklace sat perfectly against his collarbone. He was attractive and you’ve thought so since the beginning but something was holding you back.
Did you really want to waste your time on a stranger you won’t know in a few months?
“What are you doing tonight?” He asks suddenly.
“Sleeping, hopefully,” you told him, a small smile when you noticed him roll his eyes.
“It’s the summer, the sun’s out, you live on the beach—don’t look at me like that, it’s a small town. Word gets around when a new person shows up,” Jungkook said with a shrug, knowing it’s him who had been asking about you.
“You’re just solidifying my stalker allegations, should I report you?” You asked, laughing slightly.
“I’ll have you know, a lot of people would love to be stalked by me, you should feel flattered,” He nudged your knee with his.
“What? Like it’s hard? Word gets around,” You said to him, “I’ve already been warned about getting too close to you.”
Jungkook let his brows furrow as he took in what you said but it didn’t take long for it to dawn on him. As much as he wanted to act like there was no way his ex girlfriend would approach you, he knew her too well. Who else would talk down on him? Who else would feel threatened when he ignores them? What does she think she gains from telling you to stay away from him? Isn’t it his decision who he approaches and does she think you’re just going to fall in line like everyone else does?
This is the sort of thing that pisses him off. He’s not a bad guy at all, he doesn’t sleep around, he focuses on his goals, he has fun with his friends… so why?
“But if it makes you feel any better, I’m not very good at listening to what I’m told,” You finally said, standing up with your book in hand and pulling the sand-covered towel, “And I’m starving, so where’s a good place to eat around here?”
As much as he wanted to act like the cool guy and seem indifferent, he couldn’t help but break out into a grin. Without wasting another second, he got up and motioned to carry your things, “There’s a good food shack on the boardwalk. I guess I could show you around.”
“If it isn’t too much of a hassle,” You said playfully, handing him your things.
“So, I want to know, what’s a big city girl like yourself doing all the way over here?” He asked on the way up, “Or do you still want to play at being mysterious?”
You rolled your eyes, “I don't usually play games like that, I think you’ve got me confused with someone else. I just don’t talk if I have nothing to say.”
“Interesting take, I personally never know when to shut up,” Jungkook smiled, pointing up to the restaurant and walking in behind you, “But seriously, usually the tourists come to pollute our water and get away.”
“Are you always so observant? You give me the vibe that you like to watch other people,” You told him, sitting down at a high round table across from him.
“And you give me the vibe that you hate talking about yourself. Why else would you avoid every question I ask?” He asked, raising a brow making you scoff but you couldn’t deny it. When the server brought out your menus, she made sure to greet Jungkook like old friends.
“Do you really care to know?” You asked quietly.
“Why else would I ask? I’m not pretending to be interested, if that’s what you think,” Jungkook said honestly.
You didn’t say anything for a moment, looking down at the menu contemplating what to order and what to say, “Things were getting a little too complicated back home and my friend asked if I wanted to pack up my things and follow him down for the summer and I said yes.”
“How broad,” Jungkook said with a small smile, lifting a brow and waiting to see if you would add to it.
“It’s the truth,” you shrugged.
“What was complicated?” Jungkook asked.
He looked amused when you narrowed your eyes in response to his probing. “Adulting.”
“You’ll figure it out,” Jungkook shrugged, waiting for the server to come back to take your orders. He let you order first, watching the server give you a look as she listened and followed after with his own.
“How wise of you to say. What about you?” You asked him, handing the menus back and sliding your drink closer to you.
Jungkook distracted himself playing with the wrapper of his straw and shrugged, “What about me? We’ll get to me when you give me the juicy details.”
You couldn’t help but scoff, looking out the window to the view of the waves crashing against the shore, “What? I told you everything.”
He chuckled, “Barely.”
Rolling your eyes, “Rude.”
“Really?” He asked, biting back a smile.
“No. You’re actually pretty nice,” once again, you sighed, as if admitting that was hard for you.
“Nice? That’s what you tell a guy when you’re going to reject him. I just want to know more about you but there’s not much I can go with. How long are you staying?” Jungkook finally asked you.
“A couple months, are you already dreading it when I leave?” You asked, sounding sarcastic and amused.
“Maybe, you’ve left an impression despite what you might think. Crushing you under my incredible physique was destiny.” He could tell you wanted to laugh but were refusing to do so.
“Corny.”
“Funny.” He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back in his chair and making it known that he was going to wait for you however long it took.
“I had this bad roommate situation I couldn’t take anymore and my lease doesn’t end for another two months so when Hobi asked me to come with I jumped at the chance. I left my job because it’s draining me and I felt useless so I figured it’d be easier to run away to the beach and deal with it all later. Happy? I was honest.” You rushed the words, half-assed the pace.
It was his turn to narrow his eyes suspiciously but gave in, “Content. You’ll figure it out, you don’t seem like the type to wait around for things to fix themselves.”
“Really? Because that feels like what I’m doing right now. I’m all the way over here where I haven’t done anything but run into this strange guy at the beach who I think might be stalking me,” You said, joking at the end.
“No, right now you’re trying to live in the moment, nothing wrong with that,” he chuckled, ignoring your joke.
You don’t remember much of what you said to him but for some reason Jungkook was very easy to talk to. Maybe it’s because you don’t really know him or expect anything from him at all but he got you too open up to him like you’ve known him for years. In reality you didn’t know anything about him or anyone here for that matter.
“Okay, okay, enough about me. It’s your turn,” you had finally said between mouthfuls of whatever the two of you ordered and Jungkook couldn’t avoid it any longer.
“Alright, I’m… also trying to figure things out on my own. I’m used to being with certain people and doing certain things and I don’t know, at one point I kind of got fed up with everything being so predictable. I want to meet people on my own and not because they know who I am or something,” He rushed his words, “If I could, I’d move far away from here but right now I don’t think that’s an option so I settle for next best and stick it out. In all honesty, everything’s kind of been a bore until I met you, you’re different.”
You raised a brow, mirroring his earlier stance and crossing your arms over your chest, unamused, “How?”
He smirked, “I don’t know yet, I can just tell.”
You never believe a guy when he goes on about how different you are from other girls because usually they’re just full of shit. You’re not good at picking the right person so it makes you wary to believe anything he says despite how good he looks saying it.
By the time the bill came, the server made sure to sit it without checking if that’s what either of you wanted but you didn’t hesitate to reach for yours. Jungkook snatched the small slip out of your hand and hurried the server back so he could pay for it in full, giving her a tight smile, “Just one check, thanks.”
“Sure thing,” she said with a light scoff that had you looking after her with furrowed brows. Something about the way she acted left you feeling confused.
“What a good first date.” Jungkook said at the end, walking outside with you.
“This wasn’t a date,” you teased, thanking him for the meal nevertheless, “But I should probably call it a night, y’know.”
“Oh yeah, me too,” Jungkook shrugged “But if you’re not doing anything tomorrow night, we should see each other again.”
“Hm, I’ll think about it,” You said playfully, “If I’m not busy.”
“You won’t be,” He smirked, bumping your shoulder with his as the walk turned bumpy and more trail-like as he walked you home, “But why don’t you give me your number and we can talk about it more on the phone.”
“Hah, smooth guy, aren’t you?” You asked, taking his phone and typing your number in. When you got to the soft trail of greenery and sand that led up to the backyard of the beach house.
“How about we watch the last few minutes of the sun set together,” he reached for your head and stopped you before you could head up the wooden steps.
“How about you don’t kidnap my friend for the whole evening!” Hoseok shouted suddenly, tripping over his own feet as he ran out the sliding glass door that led to the pool deck, “I’ve been worried sick about Y/n.”
“Not true, he’s been sleeping!” Hyeri yelled after him, “But you’re the guy who tackled my best friend on our first day here.”
“My reputation precedes me,” Jungkook held his hands up in surrender, “I’m Jungkook. I was just asking if you guys wanted to join us and watch the sun set.”
“How aesthetic, let me grab some bottles of Soju.”
Your attempt to end your time with Jungkook failed and he seemed pleased with himself for that. He was also polite enough to try and get to know your friends too.
He was having a crisis, he thinks. A real life identity crisis because for the first time in his life he thinks he likes someone—in a way he’s never liked anyone before. It’s pathetic and makes him feel so stupid because he barely knows anything about you but it’s the truth. If anything that’s what makes him like you so much. He likes that he can’t tell what you’ll say or how you’ll react to him, it’s exciting.
He just wants to know if he’s on your mind too.
“We’re still on for this weekend right?”
“What are we doing again?” The road ahead was a scenic path between mountain and sea that led all the way to this private property of his childhood home.
“Chae-hi’s birthday trip.” Jimin spoke from the passenger’s seat of the black pick-up truck his best friend paraded in when he wasn’t on his dirtbike.
“Oh, yeah I’m not going. I was thinking of taking Y/n sailing,” Jungkook said with a small smile, looking sideways, unable to miss the way Jimin stiffened and went silent. He looked back to the road, hand tightening around the steering wheel slightly, “What?”
“Nothing,” Jimin scoffed, looking out the window annoyed now. The drive was silent for a while, nothing but the low sound of music and wind blowing through the topless truck.
“What’s up with you lately?” He finally asked, “You barely know the girl and she’s all you talk about. We’ve had plans to go with everyone.”
By everyone he meant their mutual friends—not just his ex and her friend—which made things worse. He’s known them all for years and it’s hard to see them when he wants to move on and do his own thing. Jungkook tried not to let Jimin’s tone ruin his mood and sighed, “Sorry, man, but I’m not going. Are we playing later or what?”
“You sure you’re not busy with your new friends?” Jimin asked, remembering about the night Jungkook had dinner with you. He tried calling him that night to see if he wanted to go out for drinks just to be rejected because Jungkook was too busy with you and your friends.
Jungkook chuckled, “Don’t be jealous, you’ll always be first in my heart.”
“Oh fuck off,” Jimin rolled his eyes, trying to not sound bitter as he asked, “What’s your girl doing anyway?”
“Y/n’s not my girl—yet, I don’t know. She hasn’t texted back,” Jungkook said worriedly, making Jimin stare at him strangely.
It’s not that he had anything against you personally, he just doesn’t get it. You’re a complete stranger who won’t stick around so why has his best friend chosen to hang out with you so much recently. What did you have over the people he’s known all his life? What do you bring to the table?
What did you gain from being around Jungkook?
You couldn’t explain it either. All you really knew was that a cute guy who sort of annoyed you in the beginning was starting to rub off on you. You’ve come to enjoy running into him and forcing yourself to open up because he’ll listen. It made you feel weird in a good way. You wanted to think about how fun it was to be around him and ignore all the worries you’ve had recently.
Even with your close friends, you’ve long since stopped talking about the people you were interested in. It wasn’t because you didn’t trust them or want their advice but sometimes you didn’t feel the need to say anything—especially if it was harmless fun. That’s why when Hyeri approached you about Jungkook, you weren’t sure what to say.
“It’s no fair,” Hyeri picked through a crate of strawberries, dropping them into a basket, “I wanted to find a little beach boyfriend, why’d you get lucky instead.”
“What are you talking about?” You asked dumbly, following her down the aisle of produce at the farmer’s market.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Hyeri said accusingly, “Jungkook.”
“We’re just hanging out,” You said with a shrug that made her laugh, pushing her sunglasses into her hairline. You knocked against one end of a green watermelon, hoisting it in your hands and continuing past her.
“Right, is that what you called your date the other night? Just a nice early dinner with a hot guy who asked to watch the sunset with you?” She said playfully, “You like him, don’t you.”
“I don’t know him,” You insisted. Yes, you’ve talked a lot with Jungkook recently and you’ve begun to talk about real things in your lives but did that really mean anything? “Besides, in a month and a half I’ll be in my new place settling back into the old routine. It’s just fun hanging out with him, nothing more, it’d be too complicated.”
“Whatever you say,” Hyeri sighed.
You’re lying, obviously you’re lying because you do sort of like him but you didn’t want to think about it. You didn’t want to think about what you could become, you only want to think about now and how things progress. Whatever happens, happens. That’s it. Could you pretend like you have no worries aside from who you’ll run into on the beach instead?
When your phone rang, you knew immediately who it could’ve been and although Hyeri walked ahead, acting like she couldn’t hear it, she was clearly listening. When you answered Jungkook’s call, he was quick to ask about your plans for the upcoming weekend.
“You want to take me sailing?”
Despite the early hours where the sun has yet to shine through, you still couldn’t wrap your mind around it. Even walking along the dock following after Jungkook who led the way through the darkness of the starry sky. “Or are you plotting my murder?”
“Which would you prefer I do?” He asked teasingly, looking back at you with a grin, “But seriously, it’ll be fun.”
Fun wasn’t waking up before the sun did, nor was it following a man you barely know out to the sea. If it weren’t for Hyeri begging you to take up his offer, you wouldn’t be here right now.
The sailing yacht was bigger than you expected with a small cabin area below deck to sleep and wash up in. You’ve never been on a sailboat before but you didn’t think they would look this nice and clean.
“This is yours?” You asked, watching him put in the arm work to undo the rope that tied the boat to the dock.
“Um, yeah,” Jungkook answered blandly, “Kinda?”
“Kinda?”
“Yeah, it’s mine,” he cleared his throat, helping you carry your bag down to the room before bringing you back up to the galley, “I used to be on a sailing team when I was in school and after I graduated I got this for my friends and I.”
“Nice,” You looked around, still in shock at the size of the sails. It was a Beneteau Oceanis 48 with such a sleek, clean look you were scared to sit on any part of it. You wanted to ask how much it was but resisted the urge to, scared you’d sound rude.
Still half asleep, you watched Jungkook set sail behind the wheel, his jacket already off and the sleeves of his linen shirt.
“Sleep a little, we’ve got time,” he said lastly.
It went easy between you two, you felt comfortable and for some reason safe with him enough to letyourself relax around him. You can't remember falling asleep but at some point you had and when you were woken up it was with him dropping anchor in the middle of the open sea.
The waves were calm, breathtaking deep blue and you could see the line of gold separating the ocean from the sky. It was beginning to warm up but you still shivered in your thin sweater, looking up feeling awestruck by the view.
"Look who's finally awake," Jungkook said softly as he secured the wheel and came over to where you sat. He grabbed his jacket — that he had grown too hot for — and placed it over your front. You took in the light scent of his cologne that lingered on the Northface and thanked him, "You said I could sleep."
"I know," he sat across from you, looking at you with a gentle look on his eyes, "I did wake you up pretty early, but look at the view. Do you like it?"
"Yeah, it's nice," You leaned against the edge of the seat, staring down at the dark navy blue water, almost catching your reflection in it. The line of gold was beginning to widen and a circle of light was bouncing off the ocean beautifully. "If you plan on pushing me over the edge, now's the time."
"You're dumb," he laughed, kicking your foot with his playfully. You smiled, trying not to laugh as you looked at him, "Aren't you cold?"
"No, it's hard work getting a sail boat out and I was starting to sweat," Jungkook lifted an arm, flexing it, "But these guns never fail me."
"That's too bad, I was hoping you'd want to keep me warm but I don't want you to overheat," You teased, looking at him invitingly and his eyes shifted to the open space next to you. To set it off, you even winked.
"You know what, now that you mention it, being surrounded by this sea breeze is making me a little chilly," Jungkook pretended to shiver as he got up.
"The sun's rising, I'm sure you'll warm up again really soon," You said as he sat next to you, touching your leg and making you put it on his lap.
"Who knows, I'm suddenly freezing, come closer," he rested his arm on the back of your seat, pulling you onto his lap, "I heard body heat is good to warm up."
"You can always just put your jacket on," You pretended to argue making him roll your eyes, almost sassily.
"But you look so much better in it," He brushed hair out of your face that the wind blew over, finger softly tracing the side of your face.
"I hate to admit this but... you're too good to be true," You said honestly, shifting your gaze away, "Like, too perfect."
"But I'm not," Jungkook argued quietly, "I'm just... I don't know, I'm not acting like myself—or maybe I am and haven't realized it but I think it's you. I want to impress you."
You didn't know how to respond but he didn't mind. He was more focused on the soft glimmer in your eye as you watched the sky turn a powder blue with orange, hearing the seagulls and light whooshing sound of the sails.
It's bad how affected you're leaving him and you don't even know it.
"Y/n," Jungkook tried getting your attention again, leaned his head against your shoulder. You didn't have to say anything to know what he was asking. The first soft brush of his lips against your jaw had you succumbing to his effect. He tilted your chin with the tip of his fingers, catching your lips with his, finally.
How do you describe it?
How do you explain how soft and tender his lips felt? How his fingers grazing your skin sent a shiver down your spine and how he was surprisingly very loving with his affection?
This man who you barely knew and trusted too much was making you melt in his arms, kissing you and making it feel like you've never been kissed before.
"This is bad," he mumbled against your lips, pulling back to catch his breath, eyes still closed, "I really like you."
You gave him one quick peck of a kiss, sitting up, "Tell me all about it then."
Jungkook couldn't he'll but crack a grin, licking the taste of you off his lips. He wouldn't be able to shut up if he did.
You're beautiful, stunning, truly.
Even with your face in sand or your hair a mess, a scowl or pout, just beautiful to him. It was so stupid for him to be swayed by that but it's obviously what pulled him in first.
You were so mean—he thought, at least—but it never stopped him from approaching you. It's like he knew it wasn't your intention to come off so cold and when you'd joke back with him, he could see the hint of mischief in your eyes. It made him want to push your buttons or say something he knew would get a reaction from you.
You're different and he wishes it didn't sound so stupid like he knew you would think if he ever told you but you are. You're like no one he's met—really met, beyond surface level interests or habits. You responded differently, looked at him differently, treated him different.
"I won't shut up if I do," he said honestly, "Can't I just show you, instead?"
"How suggestive," you giggled, letting him kiss you again. There was more force to it this time, like he really meant it. The first one was firm and teasing, really testing the waters when his hand disappeared into your hair to keep you from pulling away.
You were spending the golden hour of the late sunrise with Jungkook sailing on a boat in the ocean. The view was amazing and his lips were so soft.
His lip ring is surprisingly warm when it brushes your lips, and his tongue feels slick against yours. He held you closely making you feel secure and safe [?], and at one point you made it onto his lap, practically straddling him.
You pressed closer to him eagerly and the movement makes his hands travel toward your hips for support, his jacket long forgotten on the floor. The seat was hard underneath him but if he mentioned it you might pull away and that's the last thing he wanted in the moment. Jungkook liked kissing you, he liked feeling your lips trail down his jaw and toward his neck where you didn't shy away from leaving open mouth kissed against his Adam's apple or under his ear.
"Y/n—" his hands circled around you tighter, "Have you gotten a good look at the cabin?"
Your brows furrowed momentarily, looking down the short steps to the cabin door where a big bed was seen through the window, "No, want to show me?"
You began to get up from Jungkook's lap, making his hands slide off down your hip, leading you to the cabin.
Jungkook wasn’t as subtle as he hoped to be when he pressed you into his chest, peppering your shoulder with light and teasing kisses taking you further into the room. A small smile played on your lips when you turned to face him, circling your arms around his neck.
He didn’t question it when you walked him toward the bed instead, making him sit down as you kissed and straddling him once more. You were a good kissed and Jungkook could attest to that by the way your tongue slid between his lips to seek his out. It was a surprise for you to be so forward with him but he wasn’t complaining at all. If anything it made him want to take it further. He wasn’t shy with his touches anymore and you could feel his hands circle down to your butt, pressing you firmly into his lap.
It was hard to ignore his arousal from your simple make-out. It was evident in his shorts and it made you want to keep going. You began to rock your hips against him lightly, feeling his growing bulge apply pressure between your legs.
“Can we get this off?” Jungkook asked about your jacket first, feeling you miles away and when you unzipped it, you pulled off your shirt too leaving him breathless, “You’re bolder than I thought.”
“Is that a bad thing?” You asked, watching his fingers trace down your bare sides, looking at your bra and chest. His finger hooked into the hem of your jeans as if to teasingly ask if they can come off next and you gave him the go ahead, starting to unbutton his shirt for him.
“Never,” he sighed, eyes closing when your hands touched his muscular chest. His hands snuck under her jeans playing with your underwear and grinding your hips against his worn more purpose drawing out a small groan in the process.
When your hips began to move on their own, teasing his aching member, he leaned forward to kiss along your neck, finding your pulse points with ease and reaching behind you for the clasp of your bra to get it off next.
Your arms circled his neck, hugging his head close to feel his lips on your skin and moved your hips with more determined rhythm. You’d be lying if you said his kisses weren’t turning you on and sending shivers down your spine. Jungkook slid your bra off letting it hit the floor while you wrestled his opened shirt off his shoulders and hugged him in a kiss.
“You’re so sexy,” Jungkook whispered, kissing the soft mound of your breasts, “Even when I had you in the ground covered in sand that’s all I could think about.”
“And here I thought it was my personality that drew you in,” You teased, letting him finally turn you on your back beneath him. He pulled your jeans off leaving you in your small slither of panty.
“Trust me, it did,” Jungkook said, kissing along your thighs, “Hurt my feelings that the pretty girl from the beach couldn’t care less about me.”
“A real shot to your ego,” you raised your knees
Jungkook leaned forward to catch your lips in a kiss, hovering over your body, “It really was.”
A small gasp left your lips as you felt his hand trace down the curve of your sides, slipping into your underwear and feeling the soft slope of your nether region. Your thighs parted more, letting his finger tease your clit.
“I wasn’t too impressed in the beginning,” You joked, lifting your hips when you felt his finger begin to feel around your folds, surely finding where the slick began to puddle. He used the wetness to coat your clit, raising a light sigh from your lips there he swallowed in a kiss.
“I’m well aware,” Jungkook whispered against your lips. You rose your hips to meet his hand, finding some stimulation that made your body respond with raise bumps in pleasure, “What about now?”
As he asked, his coated middle finger finally pressed into your wet cunt, with his palm against your clit and grinding into it as he pushed his finger into the hilt. You dug your nails into his tatted forearm to ground yourself against the sudden feeling and holding back the loud moan that almost slipped. He smiled, clearly amused by your reaction. He maneuvered his hand around so his thumb could find your clit and with it covered in your arousal it made the slide so much easier.
Jungkook’s long finger slide into your pussy with slight restriction, curling when he pushed all the way in and finding that sweet spot that had your breath hitching and probing at it. You were at a loss for words and he loved it, it made him want to kiss you as he brought you pleasure with just his hand. He wasn’t even asking for a response anymore, he was just trying to tell you how he’s felt while he makes you feel good on an expensive sail boat in the sea.
The sunrise had long been forgotten and replaced by the thought of how good he made you feel and he was happy about that.
"Oh, fuck." You gasped, gripping his armas he hooks his finger at just the right angle. You didn’t even have to tell him that was the spot that made your toes curl, it’s like he just knew it.
"Like it?" He asked, repeating his previous action, kissing along your neck for added stimulation.
He could feel you on edge of orgasm by the way you pinched his arm but he didn’t care about the slight sting. He cared more for the glazed look in your eyes, walls tightening around his finger.
It’s like he knew exactly when the last push would be, and his pace grew more rough, ready to get you there and finally your body gave way to pleasure.
“Pretty,” Jungkook said softly, feeling your release around his hand, letting you ride out your high and pulling his hand back when you were ready. Your breathing was shallow and the sight of your breasts falling and rising with each breath was hypnotizing. When he pulled back, he couldn’t stand the constriction of his shorts anymore. Without thinking, he licked your release off his hand before yanking his shorts down along with his usual Calvin Kleins.
Jungkook didn’t say he was ready to go further, but you could tell just by the way his cock sprung free from its confines. It was pretty and long, not too think nor skinny and fit his physique perfectly. He stroked himself here and there for some friction but didn’t hurry you along. Instead, he let you catch your breath as he watched in awe at the fact that he had you in bed with him.
“Come here,” you motioned for him to come closer with your index finger and sat up, fully naked before him and getting him in the bed with you. Jungkook followed in a trance, kissing you thoughtlessly and nearly biting your lip in surprise when your fingers touched the tip of his dick, feeling the pre-cum that leaked from the slit.
You barely had your hand wrapped around his pretty cock, giving him a small jerk up his length when his fingers circled around your waist to stop you, “Not tonight.”
You tried to read the expression in his eyes but he just kissed you lovingly, “I want to feel you, all of you.”
“What a giver,” You said playfully, kissing the tip of his nose and laying back with him following after you. He held your legs apart, lining his cock at your entrance, “Can I? I’ll pull out.”
You gave a nod of your head, looking down as his cock pressed forward, aching to feel the tightness of your wet walls hugging him.
You’re not sure what came over you then, but the feel of his dick pushing past your entrance made you feel bold. Your leg hooked around his waist, pulling him forward and watching how his jaw went slack. Jungkook looked down at how eagerly you took him and his arms nearly gave out, eyes rolling as he processed the sudden pleasure.
You still needed a moment to adjust to his size and he practically fused himself to your body, trapping you beneath his muscular figure, “Fuck.”
His movements were slow at first, thrusting gently to find what felt good and what didn’t, running gentle hands over your breasts so he could feel the fullness of them. When he thrusted his hard length in, his thumbs were circled your nipples, pulling his cock out and pinching at them. Something about the leg you had around him drove him wild, feeling your territoriality over him even if there was a chance it meant nothing.
“Jungkook,” you moaned softly at a particularly harsh thrust, scratching at his back unintentionally, “Feels good.”
Something was happening inside of him that he couldn’t explain. He wanted to say things he shouldn’t, things that were too soon to admit and he had to bite his tongue to stop himself. The only other way he could stop himself from sounding like a fool was with his mouth on you and the closest thing to him were your perky nipples.
Jungkook never slowed the steady pace he set fucking you but with the added pleasure to your chest, his tongue circling around your nipple and sucking lightly, had you seeing stars. You’d nearly forgotten where you were till you looked out the windows, seeing the clear sky and the pretty water making this all feel more surreal.
Jungkook hugged you close, hand gripping your thigh and inching it higher around himself as he fucked you rougher, taking pleasure in bringing you close again and this time around he couldn’t bother being as gentle. He wanted to, he swears, but he’s so turned on by you that he couldn’t be patient at all. You didn’t even seem to mind when his hips slammed into yours, turning you to lay on your side, fucking yourself on his cock with more vigor knowing he needed release too, and let him manhandle you however he wanted. His free hand snuck into your hair, pulling slightly when he dragged you into another kiss and groaned against your lips.
Neither of you had to say anything to know you were both close, and it made you impatient. You moaned at the roughness, letting yourself get lost in the feeling unripe you couldn’t take it anymore, once again cumming with little control of yourself. He held you so roughly to his body, not letting you go as you struggled to catch your breath and you knew it was taking everything in him to not let go inside you. That’s the only thing that had you pushing away from him, trying to sneak a hand down to touch him but the second you did, his cock spilled thick cum into your hand, creamy and white. You wanted a taste badly.
Jungkook moaned your name quietly, feeling pathetic to cum so easily by your hand but he couldn’t hold back anymore. It took him longer to bounce back than you, and when he opened his eyes he caught you pressing a finger to your tongue, taking a small taste that left him shuddering.
“Don’t do that,” his voice said, raspy and tired tone.
“You did it to me,” You said, licking your finger clean, “And you made a mess.”
“Sorry,” he couldn’t help but pout, looking surprisingly cute to you even with his hair a sweaty mess and the afterglow of sex on his naked body, “Kiss?”
A grin spreads over his face when you lean in to kiss him, happily kissing you back more gently now.
“Would I sound wimpy if I said I needed a nap?” It pained him to even ask but he was suddenly so tired and relaxed in your arms. It made him feel unmanly to even think to ask but he couldn’t help it, he could lay in bed all day with you if it was an option, “We can worry about breakfast later—perhaps when it’s consider lunch or an afternoon snack.”
You laughed softly, snuggling into him further, “Let me at least clean up a little and then we can sleep for as long as you want.”
Jungkook smiled happily, letting you leave to the bathroom as he hurriedly tugged the bedding off. He wasn’t too worried about the boat, knowing he properly set anchor and the water was calm today. If anything the light rocking of the boat could lull him to sleep if you were in his arms.
“Are you sick of me yet?” Jungkook asked, watching you drift in and out of sleep as he drove away from the shipping dock. It was the evening and the hours spent in the open sun was exhausting, even with how sweet it felt. At least he thinks you might feel that way.
If he were being honest, he could still be with you longer. There hadn’t been enough hours in the day for him, “Or do you think we could still get dinner?”
“We can, but I need a shower, I’m sticky and sweaty,” You said absentmindedly, catching the way he bit his lip with a smirk that had you smacking his arm, “Don’t be gross.”
“I didn’t say anything,” He laughed, grinning as he thought about the way you said his name when you were naked in his arms, “But, I want to take you to my family home. My parents are gone for the weekend and it’s closer than my apartment.”
“Are you hiding your apartment from me?” You asked jokingly.
“No, but I live with Jimin and I want to be selfish and have you to myself longer so your place is out of the question too,” Jungkook admitted.
“And what am I supposed to wear? I didn’t really pack clothes,” You looked down at his linen shirt you currently wore, only panties underneath thinking you’d be going home after the eventful day.
“Something mine, you look good in what’s mine,” Jungkook said with a wink, “I’ll make us something nice—maybe get something ordered…”
“Oh I guess.”
You didn’t question the drive away from the houses lining the beach in his pick up truck. You stared out the window and watched the view turn more scenic would hillsides and small rocky edges, more nature-esque.
Songs played quietly that Jungkook would sometimes hum along too with a perfect pitch that had looking over at him from time to time. When he would catch you looking, he’d stop immediately and tighten his hands over the steering wheel.
He was nervous.
His family home was empty and he could go to it whenever he pleased but did he really want to bring you along? Open up another side of himself just for a few more moments alone? Did you mean this much to him?
Swallowing his nerves, he turned down a private road with tall trees and white gravel. It stretched on for a mile before ending at private gates. You sat up, slightly more aware of what was going on when he lowered his window to type in some code, hearing someone speak through an intercom, ‘Welcome home, sir.’
He could feel your eyes on him and he just smiled, “Wash up first?”
“Please,” You said, looking away, staring straight ahead at the colonial house that appeared in view. It was obscenely large with endless windows and greenery surrounding it making it all the more intimidating.
This is his family home, yours couldn’t compare.
Still, you tried not to question it.
Jungkook didn’t bother driving back to the private garage, he pulled up to the circular driveway by the fountain of a water nymph and got out of his truck, opening the door for you. It should’ve dawned on him that something was going to happen. The lights were on when no one should be home.
Still, he’s already brought you this far.
“Jungkook?”
His hand stopped at the handle of your door, just barely pulling it open but with little room for you to step out. You stopped moving instantly, watching the way he visibly stiffened, face hardening as he looked off to the distance.
“You’re here, what a surprise.”
“Mom,” he turned around immediately, “I thought you guys weren’t home.”
“Well, if you would answer the phone, when I call, you would know your father’s trip was canceled,” a women in a tweed Chanel suit and a tight smile stepped down from the entrance, “You’ve brought company?”
As if being summoned, Jungkook looked at you, motioning for you to step out and although you didn’t want you, you did—undressed and exhausted. The woman was stunning and classy like you’d never seen, somewhat taken back that she was the mother of the beach boy you’ve met.
Not to mention, it was too early to meet anyone’s parents. It made you sick to your stomach even as you smiled politely, “Hello.”
“This is Y/n,” Jungkook reached for your hand, “We were just stopping by.”
“When you thought no one was home?” She asked, making you look at him. He was grown, clearly, but still scolded and questioned like a child.
Jungkook didn’t say anything but you could feel him squeeze your hand when her eyes traveled over your barely dressed figure. He at least had on a t-shirt that was in his truck and his shorts.
“Why don’t the two of you clean up, we’re having dinner on the terrace,” She said looking unimpressed, “I’ll have a maid find you something more appropriate.”
“Oh, we don’t want to bo—“
“We have guests so don’t make a scene, I already had to make an excuse for why you wouldn’t be here, you can’t leave now. Even if you do have sudden company.”
That shut Jungkook up quicker than you’d ever seen. It wasn’t that you couldn’t catch on to what was happening, but more so you could wrap your mind around the reality of it. You moved almost as robotically as he did, sneaking into the house unsure what was going on aside from doing as told. He took you into his bedroom, pulling you in the bathroom with him and washing up. His entire demeanor changed and you didn’t know what to do.
“Should I go? I could probably get Hoseok to get me,” You told him honestly. You weren’t upset — not yet. As far as you knew, Jungkook might have a complicated relationship with his parents meeting the person he’s sleeping with, especially considering how recent things are with you. Neither of you are ready to meet the family, it’s just fun summer things. You’d say the biggest shock was that Jungkook seemed to be wealthy and likes to keep that private but does that make you worried?
“No, I want you here with me,” Jungkook said, swallowing hard and opening the door to his room, finding something folded on the edge of his bed. He handed it to you without much thought as he got dressed.
It was nothing crazy, just a light colored sundress and you had to dry off quickly so you could join him downstairs. Part of you wanted to call your friends but what would it mean if you did?
“What a surprise, brother, and I see you’ve finally brought someone new along,” an arrogant voice spoke up from the large dinner table on the terrace. It was a candle lit dinner with six guests aside from the two of you and you immediately reconciled a familiar face.
“Hello, sorry for keeping everyone waiting,” Jungkook said stiffly, “This is Y/n.”
“We’ve met,” Yeaun said when the others looked at you confused. Their greetings were bland and uncaring but you tried not to think too hard on it, “On the beach, right?”
“Yes, I remember,” You tried to smile, looking at Jungkook just as confused as everyone.
“Yeaun is a family friend,” Jungkook explained to you.
“An ex-fiancée,” His mother said coldly, making him freeze.
Why was she saying this?
“Darling,” an older version of Jungkook with salt and pepper hair said to his wife in warning.
“We’re on good terms though,” Yeaun smiled tightly, “Things have been changing recently, haven’t they?”
She asked you like you would know—like you were the reason for it but you were too stuck on what she was to care.
Ex-what?
“So, are you still going with the firm?” A woman sitting next to his brother said to him. That made his brother laugh, “He’s still playing around Jin’s auto shop.”
“Is everyone already eating? What about us?” Jungkook looked at you suddenly, “Should we get served?”
The firm? What firm? What fiancée? What was going on?
“Y/n, what about you? Are you new in town? Who are your parents?” The dad asked, making all heads turn toward you, a member of who you assumed was house staff, began to serve you and Jungkook dinner.
“Dad,” Jungkook tried to say but he didn’t get very far.
“I’m just here for the summer, I’m from the city,” You told him with a smile.
“How’d you meet?” Jungkook’s mother asked.
“On the beach,” You told her plainly. She didn’t say anything in response but you could feel the way her eyes narrowed at you like she was trying to read you. You weren’t lying or anything but it felt like she didn’t believe you. Under the table, Jungkook’s hand touched your thigh but in all honesty you didn’t even want him to touch you. It’s not anything serious, you were just confused and uncomfortable in this situation. He should’ve just taken you home or let you call Hoseok.
“A city girl, huh? You must have a big job, right? What do you do?” His brother asked.
“I’m in between work right now,” You said honestly, just as you had told Jungkook who seemed to be open to that idea and understood why. Sometimes, doing the same routine in a career you didn’t have passion anymore left you drained and you needed a change of pace. You explained this to him and he made it all feel okay so why were you being looked at strangely?
“So wasting your time over here is what you want to be doing?” His mom asked.
Jungkook took a deep breath, wanting to speak up but unsure how to do so. He obviously hasn’t told you anything but his relationship with his family is complicated. The added guests made it all the worse. Has he always been such a coward?
“That’s what it seems like,” You said bitterly, looking over at Jungkook with a cold expression.
You don’t remember much of the rest of dinner, only that you hated every second of it and how you just wanted to go home. You checked out of all conversations after a while and watched the tension between them with little interest. What you’ve learned is that Jungkook is good at keeping things from others even when he begs to know more himself.
The irony, it was annoying. By the end of dinner, you didn’t care to know what any of them had to say, much less Yeaun who everyone continued to remind you was his ex that they all loved dearly. They were saying it for a reason, like if you wanted to take her place and be with Jungkook who belonged to a group of people who won’t let outsiders in.
“Well at least she’s pretty,” you remember being told.
“I’m sorry,” was the first thing Jungkook said after dinner but you didn’t bother to acknowledge him. Instead, you led the way to his truck so he could take you home.
The car ride was so eerily silent that it felt deafening. He tried and tried to talk to you but you just ignored him, not caring at all for whatever might come out of his mouth and he can’t really blame you.
“You lied to me,” You said finally, staring holes into his dashboard.
“I didn’t mean to,” Jungkook admitted, “Everything I’ve said to you is true.”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes and looking out the dark window, “Just take me home.”
“Y/n,” Jungkook reached across the middle console for your hand but you crossed your arms over your chest and shifted away from him even more, “I’m sorry, we should’ve just gone somewhere el—“
“Look, it was never going to work out anyway so just take me home and we can both go on with our lives because clearly we’re nothing alike at all,” You said bitterly, “I was just dumb enough to believe we are. It’s been a long day.”
He wanted to argue but for the first time since he’s met you, he’s left silent. He’s a coward, he’s aware of that now and it felt sickening to realize it finally. He’s always been the type to do what he’s told, follow the plan his parents have set out for him and this is the first time he’s realizing how much he hates it.
When the truck pulled up to the front of your house, he began to unbuckle his belt, quietly saying, “I’ll walk you to the d—“
The car door slammed shut in the middle of his words and although he knew it was better for him to give you space, he just couldn’t. He couldn’t let you walk off on him without trying to really hear him out—just let him get his thoughts together. As pathetic as it sounds, Jungkook feels like a kid again. He feels anxious to be ignored or scolded.
Without a care for gentleness, he swung his side door open to the large truck and got down to follow after you, “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t realize they would be home and if I did I wouldn’t have invited you over. I just wanted to spend more time with you.”
“That’s not the problem, Jungkook,” you said back to him, “The problem is that you’re so secretive about everything and fine, whatever, you don’t have to tell me but don’t act like you want to know anything about me then if I can’t expect the same.”
You released a sigh at his silence, turning away, “Go home.”
Your front door slammed in his face shutting him out and he could see people staring through the window; probably overhearing everything and he wanted to disappear. When had things gotten so complicated for him?
He missed the days when he didn’t have anything to worry about but now that he’s starting to see the people around him more clearly, he’s realizing he doesn’t like it at all.
It took you days to think about Jungkook again, mostly because you wanted to ignore him and he was making it easy for you. He has only messaged and called a couple times before he got the hint that you don’t want to talk to him and gave up.
You can’t tell if you preferred that or wished he kept trying but you had to move on. The two of you weren’t dating, you hooked up on a boat before realizing his family are pretentious assholes and wanted nothing to do with him now.
You know he’s not his family but at the same time these are people he surrounds himself with and if he was attracted to someone like Yeaun, there was no way he was into you too. You barely know her but you know enough to see that you’re nothing alike.
“What are you looking at?” Hoseok asked, looming over your shoulder.
“Apartments, I still can’t find anything good, I think I need to go home for a few days and do some in-person tours,” You told him with a sigh, scrolling through listings, sitting alone in the beach themed living room that looked fresh out of a cape cod magazine.
“It’s not a quick commute,” He said, “Besides, I already said you can stay with me till we find you a place, there’s no rush.”
“I know, but there’s nothing better to do,” You said with a shrug.
“It’s called avoiding,” Hyeri said, sitting on the edge of the couch, “So Y/n’s probably not gonna come back if she leaves now. You’re mad at Jungkook.”
“No, I’m not,” you rolled your eyes, “That’s over and I haven’t done anything but laze around all day. I need to get my shit together.”
You just want to go home.
“What’s up with you? You’ve looked mad all day,” Jimin pointed out as he mindlessly dug his feet into the sand. He’s dragged Jungkook out after days of not seeing him but his friend couldn’t care less about the beach or hanging out with him. He actually didn't want to hang out with anyone.
“Is it the thing from the other night?” Jimin asked like it was so simple, “Yeaun was talking about it, so you’ve introduced your new girl to the family and it didn’t go so well?”
“Jimin.”
“Yeah?”
“Are you really my friend?” Jungkook asked, sitting at the bottom of one of the net posts, squinting up at the sun.
“Are you kidding? I’ve been around since you were in diapers, you’re like a brother to me,” Jimin said with a laugh, “I just don’t agree with some of the decisions you make.”
“Like?” He pressed for more.
“I don’t know, I just think you have a lot going for you and lately you’ve been acting like you don’t,” Jimin said, shrugging, “You passed the Bar Exam a while ago and instead of going to your dad’s firm you’re wasting time at Jin’s. You don’t answer the phone when your family calls and you ignore your friends for…”
“Say it.”
“For some chick you don’t know,” Jimin scoffed, “I don’t get it. It’s always been you and I, Chaehi and Yeaun. Always. Since we were kids and suddenly you break it off with one of the only girls who’s been here for you and find someone new to entertain yourself with. It’s weird.”
“Asshole,” Jungkook rolled his eyes, kicking off the ground and leaving his friend behind. He wasn’t sure where he was going but he just wanted to be alone.
Were you really just some girl? Is that what everyone thought? Yes, things had been incredibly easy with you but did that mean you weren’t anything more than a fling? As dramatic as it sounds, every interaction with you has been probably the best he’s ever had.
You’re funny, pretty, smart, and so much more than he ever imagined. You pulled him in and pushed him away in the best way possible. Of course it’s been strange getting rejected but you do it in a way that tells him to keep going. You were always there to listen to his obnoxious flirting and when he did decide to tell you anything about himself, you didn’t judge.
He’s so stupid for not doing the same. He wanted you to open up to him because he wanted to get closer to you but he didn’t allow himself to do it too. It was unfair so he understands why you’re mad but he can’t stand it.
He wants to call you but would you want to listen?
Jungkook found himself walking toward the boardwalk hoping the bustling energy from midday was enough to distract him. He thinks you remind him of something different, being somewhere different where he didn’t have to worry so much about what he did or who he was with. Jimin’s right that lately Jungkook hasn’t been doing anything to be apart of his family’s plans for him. He’s kind of been trying to live in the moment and clearly that wasn’t so bad. That’s how he met you and besides, it’s not like he hasn’t been thinking about his future. He just doesn’t see it here in this small town where everyone knows his name. He sees himself somewhere far in the city where he could just blend in with everyone else and do what he wants to do, be with who he wants to. It’s you, it’s seriously you.
You’ve opened up his eyes a little and he hates that his lack of honesty has pushed you away. He can’t even blame it on the uncomfortable dinner because if he wasn’t such a coward, he would’ve done more. He can’t deny that there’s something up with him and he has no doubt in his mind that you have something to do with it. Barely knowing you has done so much more for him than the people he’s known all his life.
Your best friends wanted you to forget about your plans on leaving, knowing you too well to believe you would come back. You’re not the type to do so. If you set your mind on leaving, even for a short time, you wouldn’t come back especially knowing you could run into Jungkook whenever. Maybe you were a coward too because all you ever wanted to do was run away when things get complicated and the last thing you had wanted was for this trip to get that way too.
They dragged you out of the house for a late lunch that you weren’t even hungry for and as a way to distract you but it did the complete opposite of that. Instead, you were brought to that restaurant you came to with Jungkook and the same server who you’ve seen now talk with a girl Yeaun was always around. They were friends and it should’ve been the first sign that you would never get him. You were never part of the plan around here, you were a step back to everyone involved with him and it made you bitter.
How’d you catch the attention of someone so unavailable?
“Come on, I haven’t bought a single thing here, I’ve been too busy working on my tan,” Hyeri said, pulling you along behind her to a clothing stand of sundresses, “We’ve got a few more weeks here, I think it’s time I fit the vibe, right?”
“Yeah,” You told her, looking through the rack of dresses absentmindedly. You wandered away just a little, to a table filled with jewelry and ran your fingers over certain metals and gems. You weren’t thinking much on what was going on around you, too distracted choosing between gold and silver to notice the person standing yards away looking stunned.
For the first time in over a week, Jungkook has found you again, on the beach, looking as breathtaking as usual. After all you’ve been avoiding him, he can’t help but hesitate. Does he approach you or not?
“Y/n?”
You looked up, brows furrowed slightly at who stood in front of you, “Yeaun.”
“Hey! How good to see you,” She smiled her usual tight smile that never quite reached her eyes. Up close you could see just how perfect she must seem to everyone from her height to her figure and tone of voice. She usually wore gold accessories and bikini tops or dresses. She was your perfect ‘Girl Next Door’ but if you paid enough attention to some of the things she said, you’d see how backhanded it all seemed.
“It was such a surprise to see you the other night. I guess none of us knew you were with Jungkook,” Yeaun said it so casually even if you could tell she was prying, “Where is he by the way?”
“Why don’t you ask his mother? The two of you seem close,” You tried not to sound bitter but you’re sure your body language gave away that you were. You searched for Hyeri who was looking at dresses on herself in the mirror and Hoseok left to get snow cones so once again, you were alone in her presence.
“Yeah, sorry about that, our parents go way back,” Yeaun said with a wave of her hand, “It’s a small town, y’know. Everyone knew we were high school sweethearts and when we got engaged everyone was so excited. You can imagine their surprise when we broke it off—sorry, you probably don’t want to hear about this again. I’m sure Jungkook has said enough.”
“It might sound strange but he doesn’t bring you up at all,” You told her, failing to say how you haven’t talked to him, “I guess he got over it a long time before anyone else did.”
“I guess so,” her stupid smile once again, “I like you, you’re good for him and I’m sorry if his family seemed closed off. They’re kind of exclusive with who they bring around. They don’t want just anyone around their sons. I’m sure you can see why, Jungkook is perfect, right? A lawyer in the making, athletic, kind…”
“Silver or gold?” You asked, holding up two different sets of earrings. She blinked in surprise, choosing one and trying to carry on, “What I mean is, he’s the whole package so everyone wants him but he also has a lot of responsibilities. If someone isn’t able to stand behind them all and support him… maybe they’re not the right fit—especially if they won’t stick around.”
You didn’t say anything for a moment, setting the earrings back down and smiling, amused by her audacity, “Who broke it off with who?”
“It was mutual.”
“Doesn’t sound like it was,” You said with a smile, beginning to walk away from her, “But don’t worry, I don’t usually like competing for someone’s attention. I guess I didn’t realize you did, so good luck.”
“Meaning?” Her eyes narrowed.
“Meaning, you’re wasting your breath talking to me because I don’t care what you have to say,” You said sweetly, “But it was so nice seeing you again, hopefully next time we’ll have something new to talk about.”
With that, you left her behind, nearly walking past Hyeri on the way, “Where you going?”
“My phone’s dying, I’m going the house,” you told her quickly, continuing to leave before anyone else could run into you.
“What’d you say to Y/n?” Jungkook asked, pushing his way through the crowds of people, getting to the stand too late and watching you walk away.
“Nothing,” Yeaun raised her hands in feigned surrender, “I was just catching up. Why so worried?”
“Where’s she going?” Jungkook asked Hyeri, ignoring Yeaun who called for him.
“To the house?” Hyeri said, confused by whatever she missed but she couldn’t even ask when Jungkook practically ran after you.
You cut through the beach instead of taking the long route down the street. You walked farther and farther away from him but he never stopped.
“Y/n! Can we talk?” He asks, catching you by surprise but you didn’t even act like it. You merely threw him a glance before walking faster.
“I’m kind of in a hurry,” You lied, stepping over the grassy parts in the white sand where you could see more residential properties.
“Look, I’m sorry. I really am, I should’ve been more up front from the beginning but I swear I didn’t keep things from you to hurt you,” Jungkook said, not stopping his pace even when he can see your house in the distance.
“It’s fine, I’m over it,” You told him, not turning back again as you looked up at the back deck of your house. You still walked closer to down the shore than the trail but you would get there soon.
“But I’m not, I… can’t stand the thought of you being done with me,” Jungkook said honestly, “Since I’ve met you all I can do is think about you and I’m kicking myself over letting you find things out in a hard way. I don’t like the way you were talked to and I should’ve said more but I didn’t and I regret it so much.”
“Jungkook, I don’t care,” you groaned, whipping around to face him, “I don’t care that you kept things from me. I don’t care that there’s something seriously wrong with your family or your ex fiancée. I don’t care if everyone thinks I’m not good enough for you and do you want to know why? Because it’s the summer and I’m not from here and it was fun to fool around in the moment but it’s too complicated now. I don't want anything to do with it. Are you getting it now? I want to go home and forget all about this.”
“You want to leave?” He asked, getting closer and closer, “And what happens then? We just never see each other again because I didn’t mean anything to you?”
“I guess if that’s how you’re seeing it—“
“Bullshit,” He scoffed, “I don’t care how long we’ve known each other or not, you want me just as much as I want you but you’re letting everything else get in the way. I’m sorry, I don’t know what else I can say or do to express that.”
“I’m leaving,” You argued, stepping away, “I’m going back to my normal life and you can go back to yours. Stop making this a bigger deal than it was.”
“What if I don’t want to? What if I think you’re the best thing to happen to me in a while and the thought of you just leaving doesn’t sit right with me? What if I say I don’t want this to just be a summer thing and I will follow you wherever you go if it means I get to talk to you more?” Jungkook kept going.
“Oh my god, Jungkook. Open your eyes! Join the real world, please!” You groaned, too frustrated to bother getting away, “We still don’t know much about each other, clearly. You live in this perfect little bubble with people who care about you and have plans for you. Why can’t you see that? Why are you wanting to throw that away for someone you barely know?”
“I’m not mad, I promise,” You tried to say, “Our lives are just too different and I’m ready to go back to mine—“
Your words were cut off by the rough pull into his arms. Jungkook’s touch was tender yet forceful, dragging your face toward his until your lips clashed messily and you kissed him back. Like a fool, you kissed him too despite everything you were saying.
It made your heart race, practically feeling his want for you and unable to help yourself from succumbing to it.
He can’t remember how long the kiss was, but long enough for his chest to grow heavy with a need to breathe that he had to pull away. His forehead rested against yours, “If you still want to leave… okay. I can’t make you stay but I really want you to, Y/n.”
You didn’t say anything, knowing you did want to leave. At this point it was more for yourself. No matter how harsh they were, they were right. You needed to get your act together and stop avoiding the problems in your life and that meant you needed to go home.
“And I promise that I’m going to see you again whether it be here or somewhere else,” Jungkook said.
FOUR WEEKS LATER
Jungkook was enamored by city life, he’s grown to learn about himself. Something about the tall skyscrapers and bustling traffic excited him like no other while other people hated them. Of course he missed the beach, surfing, volleyball, his friends… but this was for himself. He needed to do something on his own even if it meant doing something unimaginable but it was for the better.
He misses working with cars but he knows better. He put all that work into law school just so he could avoid it and do something else and he needed that to stop. Even if he didn’t work in his father’s firm, that didn’t mean he couldn’t get his foot in the door somewhere else.
After you left and all his distractions were gone, he was able to focus more on what he wanted to do. He got on his laptop to look at internships at other law firms and one day, in his endless searching, he found a small office to work in. It was in the city and it didn’t take him long to pack up his things and go to it. It started problems—of course— but it didn’t stop him, especially knowing you were somewhere here too.
You’ve barely talked since you moved back but he still misses you. He missed you and him on the beach or sailing in the sea. He misses making you laugh or roll your eyes and he wonders how you’re doing. He kept in touch with Hoseok and Hyeri after you left and when they followed suit at the end of vacation, he wanted to ask them about you but he knew better. He knows you weren’t just a fling but maybe one day you’ll come back and give it another shot.
“Iced Americano?”
“I didn’t order one,” Jungkook said as he sat alone at a table in a nice cafe. He didn’t look up until the cup was set down in front of him and when he was ready to tell the barista it wasn’t for him, he froze.
“I know, you don’t really give me ‘Coffee Drinker’ vibes but I figured it was worth a shot,” You sat down across from him.
“Are you stalking me?” He asked, dumbfounded and confused but more excited than anything. He couldn’t believe you were here, at the same place as him by chance.
“Well, I was going to ask the same, this is my usual stop before work and I’ve never seen you here before,” You said, continuing the conversation with him like it never ended.
Jungkook couldn’t help but smile, “Well, you see, I’m new to town and trying new places since this is on my way to work.”
“Is it?” You asked, “You must live around here.”
“As it turns out I do,” Jungkook cleared his throat, “It’s a recent move but one I don’t regret.”
“How are you?” You asked with a shy smile and flushed cheeks, the autumn air beginning to take over.
“Better now—after this coffee I mean,” he teased, taking a sip and scrunching his face in disgust.
You bit your lip in thought, “Actually um, it’s good I’ve run into you. I think there’s some things we should talk about but I have to get to work soon.”
“Well I still have your number, and we can always catch up over dinner?”
“Yeah, I’d like that,” You smiled nervously, standing up, “Tonight?”
That made his heart race, “It’s a date.”
::.
holy shit that took forever for me to update
idk how I feel about this but also after a while I think too hard on my work and can’t look at it anymore so please lmk when you think
permanent taglist
most of u are new but I tried to include some of my old, active members of the taglist and if I forgot about u pls lmk <3
permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @saweetspoiled @babycandy111 @jeonninja @skzthinker @lilliankoo @lesoleile @burnahtsw @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @whoa-jo @sunnikthv @kochycooky @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @maryy1300 @annabtsangels @hyunjinswifeee @bangtans-momma @butterymin @kaiparkerwifes @junggukjeonfreakinwife @tridha345 @ily4jknity @ivygguk @ryuzakiswife-blog @futuristicenemychaos @honeybunnykoo @eunhee-jk @aindrila @cherrymoonlightt @parkinglot-nights @llallaaa @crooked-haven @butterflykpop @sakuragongju @ackward-maknae @investedreader @junggukjeonfreakinwife
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kitten4sannie · 4 months ago
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kitten fever
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pairing: cat hybrid husband! sannie x fem! reader
genre: hybrid au, smut
summary: after you put your baby to sleep and head to bed yourself, you come to the discovery that your dear husband just hit his rut and desperately wants to put another baby in you.
w.c: 2.6k
warnings: needy pussydrunk maniac! san, service sub! reader, they’re giving switch energy as well <3, san gets lost in subspace, big cawk sannie, only pet names/praise (baby, mama/mommy (only a few times trust), sweetheart, princess), san likes to be called kitty, san humps reader’s pillow out of desperation, kissing, wet and messy, possessiveness, grinding, nipple play (f/m receiving), lactation kink (muahahahaha), face sitting that turns into a 69, oral (f/m receiving), good ol fashioned unprotected missionary, heavy breeding kink, bulge kink, knotting, creampie, just so, so much cum……
a/n: i did a poll a lil while back to ask what vibe everyone wanted for sannie’s bday fic and soft, sweet love making with husband sannie won by a landslide ~~ but ofc i had to add my lil spin to it and made him a hybrid husband in heat hehe <33 i wrote this all in one go just rn bc i’m a ✨chronic procrastinator✨ so i had less time to perfect it but i hope it’s just as enjoyable as my other fics 🥹🫶🏼 that being said, enjoy lovelies~
song rec: same dream, same mind, same night by svt (this is a love making song and you cannot convince me otherwise 🙂‍↕️) - sex on fire by kings of leon - terrible love by boston manor (“tell me i’m everything you want~ tell me you need me~ give it everything you’ve got, so give it all~” <33)
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“Hush, little baby, don’t you cry, mama’s gonna sing you a lullaby,” you cooed gently in a sing-song voice to the sweet angel laying still inside her crib, continuing your soft serenade until her eyes closed, surrendering to another night of much needed rest after a long day of adventure and learning, her tiny fingers slowly releasing the grip they had on one of yours, her tiny fluffy tail uncurling from your wrist. When you saw that your babygirl had fallen asleep, you gave her a loving kiss on the forehead, before exiting the bedroom and heading to your own.
It had taken a fair amount of time to get your baby to go to sleep, making you wonder if your husband had fallen asleep himself while he was waiting for you to come back. He must’ve been tired, especially after how worked up he was during the day, zooming around the house to get chores done despite there not being a rush, not even giving you the opportunity to make dinner either when he put his signature ‘kiss the cat’ apron on, and somehow still having the energy to run a few miles on his treadmill afterwards, claiming he still had the zoomies.
As soon as you cracked open the door, you could hear whimpering and soft, breathy panting coming from deeper inside the low lit room, a few candles burning away on your respective nightstands. Poor, sweet Sannie was probably having a nightmare of some sort. You would have to wake him.
“Baby, nnngh, need you, need you so bad, wanna be inside you, need to give you more kitties,” San voiced desperately to no one, hunched over and driving his heavy, leaking cock back and forth across the plush, pre-cum stained pillow that was kept on your side of the bed, his sweaty raven bangs sticking to his forehead, his tufted ears splayed out in opposite directions. He lowered his head further to take in your warm, flowery scent, letting out an instinctive growl and bucking his hips forward until he began to emit little breathy ‘ah, ah, ah’s’. He slowly dragged his throbbing cock along the feathered pillow, leaving thick, milky cum shots onto the previously pristine material. “Cummingggg, filling you up so deep, mama, it won’t stop….”
Well, it seems like you wouldn’t have to wake him. Your husband was already wide awake and seemingly trying to impregnate your pillow. You entered the room and closed the door behind you, causing San to look up at you with big boba eyes, his ears now on high alert, sheepishness overtaking his blushing features and a gentle, understanding one forming on yours. “Oh, my sweet Sannie, is this why you were so active today? Are you in a rut?”
San tried to cover up the evidence he left all over your pillow, his long fluffy tail curling shyly around one of his bare legs, his stained briefs riding up a bit near his inner thighs. “I-i didn’t wanna tell you because it’s hard for me to control myself when I’m like this…I can only think of one thing…”
You took a few steps forward until you were standing at the foot of the bed, hovering over San, your hands already making their way to his overheated face to caress it. “And what is that, kitty?”
San just about melted into your touch, his hot breath fanning over your skin when he sighed, gazing up at you past his fluttering lashes. “Breeding my beautiful wife…” he whispered softly, turning his head to press a lingering kiss into the palm of your hand. “I want to make love to you….feel and taste every single inch of you…remind you why you’re mine…” He whimpered, closing his eyes for a second, before they returned to you, his eyebrows upturned with desperation, his glistening lips parted ever so slightly. “I’m burning up just thinking about it…”
You leaned down to press a gentle kiss onto his forehead, then his cheek, leaving one on his trembling lips afterwards. “Then, what are you waiting for, Sannie? Let’s play.”
-
“Baby, your pretty kitty, mmmnn, feels so good,” San panted, breaking the heated, messy kiss you were sharing to moan from the way you were eagerly grinding yourself on his lap, his hardened cock pressing up directly into your slippery, hot cunt, a bit of drool escaping his lips, only for you to lap it up from his chin, before your tongue repeatedly swirled around his. “Wanna knot you…”
“Not yet, Sannie….wanna have more fun with you first…” When San began to whimper and squirm around, you reached past his head to grab onto the headboard with both hands, pressing your forehead to his to keep him locked in on you. “You wanna feel me all over, yeah?” You moved your hips in a more precise motion, the pronounced edge of his cockhead catching onto your clit each time your cunt dragged up and down his length, making the both of you let out a collective moan. You lifted up your body a bit so that your heavy tits were bouncing ever so slightly in his face, watching as your husband fell into a trance. “Wanna taste me too, don’t you, baby?”
“Yes, mama, wan’ it all,” San nodded drunkenly, repeatedly licking at his lips and fangs, bringing his hands up to your tits to feel the weight of them, squeezing into them slightly, his tail quickly slamming against the side of the bed as though he were a dog. He knew they were filled with milk, and it drove him absolutely nuts.
How adorable. Your kitten was too predictable. You pressed your tits together, holding them near his pretty blushing face. “Does kitty need milk?”
“Yes, please!” San opened his mouth up just in time for you to press your chest into his face, his lips closing around one of your nipples, licking and sucking at it until he began to taste the sweet essence of your milk. Deep purrs reverberated from his chest and throat, clearly content, letting go of one tit to focus on the other, pinching your nipple to watch as your milk spurted out of it and landed on his small pink tongue.
“Nnngh, that’s good, baby…” Humming, you ran your fingers through your husband’s soft hair as he gently coaxed more of the milkiness out of your tits one by one, eventually reaching down to rub your thumbs over his nipples, rolling them in circles until he began to let out muffled moans and whimpers. “Sannie’s so sensitive, hm? Even more sensitive now that he’s in a rut…so desperate for Mommy’s kitty.”
San gulped your sweetness down, a few drops dribbling down his chest, before he gasped at the sensation of you pinching his sensitive buds. “Y-yes, Sannie wants to be inside mama so bad….” He nibbled on one of your puffy nipples, dragging his rough tongue over it just to hear you whine, looking up at you to take in your suddenly submissive gaze. “My pretty girl’s sensitive too, I take it.”
“Always, because of that tongue of yours…” you murmured, digging your nails into the headboard when he forcefully pushed your tits together and ran his tongue back and forth over your nipples, biting them with his fangs for good measure.
“S-sannie…!”
When San felt a fresh wave of slick leak out onto his lap, his eyes started to narrow into slits, his instinctive urge to dominate you beginning to slip past the surface of his hazy mind. “So wet for me, aren’t you, sweetheart? It’s all going to waste too….Such a shame…”
“Wanna lick it up, kitty?” you asked sweetly, bringing your lips down to his, tasting the sweetness of your milk on his moving tongue.
“Mm. Sit on my face, princess,” he commanded in a slightly deeper tone, waiting for you to climb off of him so that he could lower himself down onto the bed. Just as you faced away from him and lifted your leg up to go over him, San grabbed you by your soft hips and pulled you down onto his face, immediately getting to work.
San dipped his tongue between your slick lips and dragged it up, painfully slow at first, so that he could savor your warm taste, licking a long stripe toward and then over your clit. He repeated this action until all that could be heard in the room was his wet tongue coming in contact with your soaking cunt, along with the groans he was letting out with each lick. Opening his eyes to admire your pretty plush pussy, he pressed a kiss onto your bud, before sucking on it with varying degrees of intensity, reveling in the way his pretty wife moaned desperately for more. “That’s it, huh, babygirl? Your pussy’s getting so messy, you must be getting close already….”
“F-fuck, yes, I’m close…don’t stop, Sannie,” you sighed out, suddenly distracted by the sight of your husband’s throbbing cock standing at full attention between his thighs. Licking at your lips, you carefully lowered yourself down until you could slurp and suck the pre-cum that pooled out of his reddened cockhead with ease, opening your mouth wide enough to take most of his cock down your throat inch by inch.
“Oh my god, baby, I won’t last if you do that….” San tossed his head back for a second, temporarily losing himself to the pleasure of having his cock buried inside the hot, wet heaven of your mouth and throat, moaning hoarsely all the while. Feeling more of your slick drip onto his heated skin, he remembered about his current mission. Once his tongue returned to your dripping slit, you started to rock your hips in time with San’s lips, your clit even bumping against your husband’s nose, your thighs beginning to tremble.
You took San’s cock down your throat as deep as it would go, using your spilling saliva to jerk off the rest of his length that you couldn’t reach with your mouth, hearing him begin to emit muffled whimpers and curses against your pulsing cunt, feeling his thighs tighten up underneath your touch.
You continued to move in sync, your hips now desperately rocking against San’s splayed out tongue, your moans playing a hypnotic rhythm. You always seemed to fall into this matching pattern of giving and receiving, losing yourselves in each other’s love and pleasure. Just as you began to squirm around, San’s hands slipped from your thighs where they were previously squeezing to your waist, wrapping them tightly around your middle to keep you still as your release poured out onto his tongue.
“Sannieeee, so good, so good, gonna cum,” you whined out once you pulled yourself off of his cock, your lips connected to the sticky tip with a few strands of milky saliva.
“Me too, baby, me too. Fuck, take it for me, okay? Be good and take it all,” San moaned against your convulsing cunt, lapping up the rest of your arousal, just as he began to shudder, forcefully tossing his head back into his pillow.
You caught the seemingly endless stream of cum on your tongue, some of it shooting into the back of your throat. You swallowed it all without hesitation, before climbing off of him and leaning down to press your lips onto his.
He eagerly kissed you back, gently lowering you down onto the mattress so that he could climb on top of you, the both of you desperately exchanging your warm arousal with one another, only breaking the dizzying kiss when neither of you could take a proper breath. “I love you, Y/N…” he whispered near your cheek.
“I love you too, San…”
Gazing deeply into your half-lidded eyes, San gently lowered his body weight onto you, not having to ask to know what you both needed when he positioned himself near your entrance and slipped right in, the both of you moaning in unison.
“Ready for my litter, baby? I’m gonna fill you up over and over, okay? I won’t stop until you tell me to…” Saliva pooled in San’s mouth as a low, deep purr rumbled inside his chest. Part human or not, your husband’s cat-like traits still made themselves present when he was sheathed inside you like this, especially now that he was in a rut.
“Yes, give it all to me, Sannie, I want your kitties,” you begged breathlessly, hardly able to think now that you were getting stretched out by your husband’s thick length, your legs hooking around his small waist once he began to recklessly drill himself into you.
“I’ll give it all to you, baby, have it all, have all of me.” Huffing and puffing, San pounded his cock into you, slipping out a few times due to how incredibly wet you were, taking the time to slap his cock down onto your abdomen, just to show the both of you how his length just about reached your ribs, watching you swallow hard, your hazy, tear filled eyes sparkling with anticipation.
“I can take it, Sannie. I can, I promise,” you reminded him gently, just as he slipped back inside you, pounding your pussy as if he had never stopped.
“Yes, you can, you’re gonna take it all, because you’re mine, mine, mine,” San groaned out near your ear like a mantra, his heavy body flush against yours, your legs hanging off of his broad shoulders, slamming his cock into you like you were just a toy, your cunt taking it like you were made specifically for him, his tail wrapped tightly around one of your ankles, almost acting as an anchor to keep the both of you from slipping out of reality.
“Yours, yours, yours…” you chanted back, your nails starting to dig and rake down his back, starting to fade away once your high rapidly took over. “Sannieeee, give me your knot, please…”
Almost as if on command, San’s knot began to form inside your cunt, stretching you out to the max. He pulled back slightly so that he could press his hands into your abdomen, feeling just how thick and heavy his cock was inside of you. “That’s my good girl…Look at you….my pretty little wife, taking all of my knot like this. It’s gonna break and your womb’s gonna be flooded with my cum, you know…You wanna get knocked up again for me, baby?”
“Mm-hmm!”
He nosed at your neck, taking in your pretty scent, whispering, “Help me breed you, baby.”
“Breed me, kitty….Make me yours forever…” You clutched your hands into his waist and pulled his hips taut to yours, your cunt clenching around his cock just as San melted into you, whispering countless promises of love, mixed with involuntary curses into your ear, the dam finally breaking.
A short, broken cry tore out of your throat as you squirted onto San’s twitching cock, endless waves of hot cum pouring out past your cervix and filling your womb up with his potent seed, rendering you vulnerable to the very real possibility of impregnation by your dear hybrid husband. You wouldn’t have it any other way.
Purring, San pulled you into his arms and began to lick at the tears that had stained your flushed cheeks, grooming you in his own special way. He nuzzled into you, his tail coiling protectively around one of your wrists, his lips ghosting along your jaw, one of his twitching ears tickling your own. “We’ll have to paint our baby girl’s room half blue if we end up having a boy.”
You giggled, nuzzling into your husband’s loving touch. “Bold of you to assume we won’t have another girl.”
San smiled at you, his brown eyes sparkling with love and adoration for you. “That’s fine. I’m a girl dad, after all.”
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© kitten4sannie, 2024.
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doyoulikethissong-poll · 10 months ago
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Nine Inch Nails - Closer 1994
"Closer" is a song by American industrial rock band Nine Inch Nails, released as the second single from their second studio album, The Downward Spiral. It is considered one of Nine Inch Nails' signature songs and remains their most popular song. Lyrically, "Closer" is a song about self-hatred and obsession, but was widely interpreted as a lust anthem due to its chorus.
"Closer" reached #41 on the US Billboard Hot 100, #25 on the UK Singles Chart, and #3 on the Australian Singles Chart. "Closer" did not initially appear on Canada's official music chart during its original release, but it reached a peak of #5 on the Canadian Singles Chart in 2002. It also did not chart in Denmark until 2007, when it reached #12.
Although there were numerous remixes of "Closer", the version titled "Closer to God" was heavily reworked, as the vocals were completely re-recorded and the overall song retained only a few elements from the original version. "Closer to God" was also released as a promotional single separate from "Closer", mainly intended for club-play.
"Closer" received a total of 70,9% yes votes! Nine Inch Nails' music has previously been featured in the polls, at #33 with the remix of David Bowie's "I'm Afraid of Americans" and at #81 with Johnny Cash's cover of "Hurt".
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sundrop-writes · 2 months ago
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BRAINWASHED
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Virgin!Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader
Everything’s clean - except for my thoughts. (Thinking about me getting you off.)
Can’t stop thinking you got me B R A I N W A S H E D .
Summary:
Stiles likes you. He really, really, really likes you. It's bordering on obsession, but he likes to believe that he has it under control.
So when you accidentally leave a pair of your panties in his presence, ripe for the taking, and they're in his backpack faster than he can blink - he realizes that he might not have it as under control as he would like to think. But he can't find it to be too much of a problem when he has those panties wrapped around his cock.
Virgin!Stiles Stilinski x Best Friend!Fem!Reader. Pining!Stiles/One Sided Fantasies. Panty Stealing. Smut/PWP.
Word Count: 8,000
Teen Wolf Masterlist | AO3 Link
Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.
Warnings: the reader uses she/her pronouns and is described as having a vagina; Stiles and the reader have been best friends since childhood and they are in high school now (they are both the same age) (for argument's sake, they are both 18, but the horny parts were motivated by the hotness of a 20-something actor so idc what age you interpret the characters as); the reader's looks are mostly undescribed and left neutral in terms of race, hair texture/colour, height, etc. however the reader is implied to be fat/plus sized; mentions of the reader wearing dresses and tights (things that the other characters on the show would typically wear); mentions of the reader having a cat - I did not give the cat a name so you can imagine it's the same as your cat's name/what you would want your cat to be called if you had one; use of Y/N and L/N (as in Last Name); brief mention that the reader would like wearing bikinis; the reader calls Stiles 'good boy' in non-sexual contexts and it turns him on; mentions of Stiles looking up the reader's skirt when she doesn't know it; some slight dubious consent because Stiles steals the reader's underwear without her consent and uses them in a sexual act (his masturbation); masturbation (Stiles touching himself); this is a one-sided/pining fic - all the sexual acts take place inside Stiles's mind as sexual fantasies while he masturbates; the reader character is described in these sexual acts as they play out in his mind, so that's why she is included heavily in the warnings; Stiles is submissive (even in his own fantasies) and he fantasies about the reader being dominant toward him; Stiles becoming aroused by the idea of the reader not shaving her pussy; technically there is edging - because Stiles edges himself to make his fantasies last longer; panty sniffing (though the panties Stiles took are freshly launder and not used ones); scent kink/sweat kink - Stiles likes the way you smell, including your sweat; kinks and sexual acts mentioned only in Stiles's fantasies (taking place only in his mind in this fic): car sex (in the back of the Jeep (typical, I know)), fingering (reader receiving), degradation kink (Stiles receiving - he likes the idea of the reader insulting him and being mean to him); pussy eating (Stiles fantasizes in depth about this); Reader makes a joke about spanking Stiles and Stiles has a small fantasy about being spanked by her; I think that's finally it.
A/N: Title for the fic comes from the song Brainwashed by Waterparks. Warning - Stiles might be a bit OOC in this because I wrote it before I started re-watching Teen Wolf again (and before I started watching Season 1 for the first time, because previously I had only seen 3B and beyond). In this, I have said that he's flunking classes and he's not really great with studying, while in the show, he's really smart and bookish and really well studied - but it could just be chalked up to the fact that he has a huge crush on the Reader that is distracting him from studying. So, interpret it how you want. I hope that you enjoy it, and please read through to my end notes to find out about a potential sequel to the fic!!
...
Stiles was hopeless. 
That was the only way to describe his current state of being. Completely, utterly hopeless. 
He was a complete and total loser, hopelessly in love with his best friend. And he was getting more stupidly caught up in that crush every single day. And of course, he didn’t even have the courage to admit his feelings for you so that it could be awkwardly out in the open. So that the two of you could get the rejection part over with, at least. 
Basically - his feelings for you were slowly ruining his life. 
Stiles had been in love with you for as long as he could remember. Well, maybe not that long. 
See, you, him, and Scott had all been friends since the beginning of kindergarten, and naturally, Stiles always liked you as a person. He always thought of you as a good friend, even if he gravitated toward Scott more.  
But he distinctly remembered the first moment when he had started to develop a crush on you. It was a very special memory to him - the day when you shifted in his eyes from annoying, slightly nagging friend to a beautiful, fierce woman. 
It was the day when the three of you were out on Halloween night during the third grade - and that was around the time people started whispering about crushes in school, when people would have playground girlfriends and boyfriends that they broke up with every other week. That night, a group of eighth grade bullies began chasing the three of you, trying to take your candy. 
Without hesitation, you picked up the largest rock in sight and threw it at one of them, causing a large cut across his forehead - and you loudly told them to ‘fuck off’ (the first time Stiles had ever heard such a word when it wasn’t coming from his dad). They had run away, somehow terrified of a girl a foot shorter than them. 
That night, you had become his hero. 
And since then, you had been the only object of his affections. 
Of course, over the years, Stiles had plenty of opportunities to tell you about his feelings for you. He just… always felt too cowardly to do so. 
In seventh grade, he had come very close to asking you out to the winter dance - only to have Scott beat him to the punch. When he pulled Scott aside to ask him about it, Scott confessed to him that he also had a crush on you. This resulted in their first ever fistfight. The first ever true rift in their otherwise close, brotherly friendship. 
The boys didn’t speak to each other for days. Which, naturally, annoyed the hell out of you. Especially because, of course, neither of them told you why they were fighting, not wanting you to know that you were the source of the rift in their friendship. And to you, this only made the fight seem more stupid and immature. 
So finally, when you demanded it, they called a truce. They agreed that they didn’t want to lose their friendship or lose you. They didn’t want to make you choose between them when it wouldn’t make any of you happy. 
So Stiles proposed that the three of you should go to the dance as friends, which you loved, and they both got you a corsage, one for each wrist - and the three of you still laughed at the pictures of you holding each of their arms. 
Eventually, Scott grew out of his crush on you and moved onto other girls, and he loved that he got to keep you as a close best friend, someone he could go to for dating advice if needed. Scott kept trying to convince Stiles to simply ‘man up’ and tell you about his feelings, but Stiles kept that same sentiment they had concluded upon years ago. Telling you about his feelings would only ruin the friendship. Not just between you, but between the entire group - it would fuck up the pack. 
Though it felt like the more he tried to ignore his feelings for you, the more they festered like a tumor. While Scott was able to mature past his crush on you, Stiles only grew more intense, and more insane when it came to his ‘crush’ on you. 
Over the years, his crush on you had grown from something sweet and childish into something much more. When puberty truly took over and lust was added into the mix, he now had to deal with the fact that you had grown into a gorgeous woman. He could barely control his arousal when looking at you, hearing your voice, smelling you, talking to you, thinking about you - even simply being in your presence made something in his mind melt. And it was growing much worse with each passing day. There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t wake up with a raging boner fueled by sexual dreams of you. 
And naturally, he would say that not telling you about his feelings for you was ultimately the best thing for him. He would steadfastly refuse to admit that him being distracted by all these fantasies of you was slowly eroding your friendship from the inside out. Slowly, bit by bit, his worst fears were coming true - your friendship was being ruined by his crush anyway. 
But he tried to ignore that. Even if you were the most gorgeous, perfect being ever put on the planet, he tried his hardest to simply enjoy the platonic version of you. He tried to act like he wasn’t stupidly, head over heels in love with you. 
He tried not to act like it. 
But on nights like this, it was just so hard. 
Tonight, the two of you were studying for an upcoming English mid-term that would be worth a decent portion of your final grade. 
Logically, Stiles knew that he should have locked himself in his room and forced himself to study independently. Or he should have taken up Scott on his offer to study with him and Allison. 
But no, he just had to ask you for your ‘help’. 
And you pitied him and said yes, because he was doing poorly in the class. The only reason for that being because it was one of the classes that he shared with you, and he spent all of his damn time staring at you across the room during it. He had tried to tell himself that he really would study tonight, that he would really take advantage of your intelligence here and now to get his shit together in order to up his grade. 
But no. That was just one of many daily lies that he told himself. Since the moment he had set foot in your bedroom that afternoon (and it was dark out now, well into the evening) - he hadn’t been able to focus on anything but you. 
Sure, sometimes that worked to his benefit. Hearing you recite Shakespeare, the words coming off your sweet lips - it did force him to focus on the material at hand for at least a short period of time. But it wasn’t like he was actually retaining any of it. He was just thinking about how gorgeous your voice sounded and how amazing you would be in an adaptation of Romeo and Juliet. One where he played Romeo, of course - and he would get to use someone else’s well-crafted words to romance you, finally getting to kiss you for the first time. 
Again - he was hopeless. 
Currently, Stiles was laying diagonally on your bed, sitting among a mess of books - the English textbooks, the assigned novels, the published copies of the play, along with binders of your notes and other notebooks, stray papers. He couldn’t pay attention to the notes he was supposed to be writing, not for a moment, not if his life depended on it. Not when you looked this stunningly beautiful while busy writing your own notes. 
With the soft lighting from your bedside lamp brushing across your skin, making that skin look even softer, you were a goddess-like vision sitting on the bed across from him. You were wearing the simple dress that you had worn to school earlier that day, your modest tights since shed off in the name of ‘comfort’ (and so that your cat wouldn’t rip holes in them while crawling across your lap, you had remarked to Stiles). When you had stood at your hamper and peeled them off your legs, Stiles had a hard time not letting the drool spill out across his chin. 
Your thighs were gorgeous. Thick, wide, spread out like a buffet for his eyes to feast on every single time you sat down. From his angle, laying down the way he was, he was up close and personal with the dimpling cellulite and stretchmarks you had there. The hem of your dress had ridden up when you had adjusted your position to get comfortable, and he felt absolutely spoiled by how much more of your thighs were revealed to him. 
A few times throughout the evening, he had to physically clench his fingers, tight, to remind himself not to reach out and touch. To remind himself that he wasn’t allowed to touch. The last thing he wanted to do was to creep you out by randomly reaching out and touching your thigh. But he wanted so badly to touch. 
How many times had he imagined what those thighs would look like bouncing and jiggling while you rode his cock? How many times had he imagined those thighs clamped around his head while he licked your pussy? (Far too many times for the good of his own sanity.) 
Not to mention the concentration spread across your face - you were so fucking hot when you showed off your intelligence. Hell everything about you was hot - your sweetness, your laughter, your sarcasm, even your bitchy side. But your bookish side had to be one of Stiles’s favorites. 
The way you would nibble your own lip when thinking, the way your brows furrowed slightly in thought. Everything about you - from the bra strap sticking out of the neckline of your dress to the chipped edge of your nail polish where you had chewed on it - you were a fucking vision. And Stiles couldn’t take his eyes off you, no matter how hard he tried. 
It was a wonder that you didn’t notice Stiles staring at you - not as often as he did it. 
Stiles felt strangely caught when you put down your pen and looked up from your notebook, then. He quickly scrambled to grab his own pencil and start writing something, to look busy. But of course, he just looked like more of an idiot when the eraser end began scraping across the page in nonsense patterns. 
“Stiles,” You scolded him with a sigh, a way he was used to hearing his name come off your lips. “Have you gotten anything done? I told you to copy down at least half my notes-” 
Of course. You pegged his blank page as simple laziness, rather than his brain slowly melting out through his ears due to his inability to think about anything but you (especially when he was in the same room as you). At least he hadn’t been caught staring at you in that creepy way yet. 
You snatched up his notebook to check his work, and his heart dropped - if you looked too carefully, then he would be caught. In the back of that notebook, there were about three pages of his name and yours in hearts, and a few times he had practiced writing his signature as ‘Mr Stiles L/N’. (He was a feminist, and he liked the idea of starting a new tradition.) There was even a drawing he had made designing your theoretical wedding cake, including a cake topper where he was Superman and you were riding on his back while he was flying. 
“Y/N, uh-” 
He quickly snatched the notebook back, causing a glare from you while he sighed in defeat. 
“Fine.” He shrugged, knowing that he had to admit to a smaller crime in order to cover up the larger one. It was something that he did with his father all too often. “I didn’t get anything done. I was slacking off. You caught me.” 
“Stiles!” You scolded him again, reaching out to gently smack his shoulder. “If you keep this shit up, you’re never gonna graduate!” 
Sadly, you were probably right. His crush on you was absolutely going to ruin him. 
“Well, you could just let me copy off you,” He replied, giving you a wide grin that let you know he was mostly kidding. 
You rolled your eyes in reply, and soon your gaze caught sight of the clock on your nightstand. 
“Well, it seems like you have wasted enough of my time for tonight.” You scoffed sarcastically. 
Stiles knew that you had intended this to be a joke - but he couldn’t help the twinge of pain the words caused in his gut. The idea that he was truly just a waste of time in your life. He pressed his lips tightly together to suppress a frown and didn’t say anything more, and then you continued. 
“It’s almost your curfew anyway.” You pointed out, gesturing toward the clock. You were right. Stiles hadn’t even noticed how late it was getting - too busy enjoying his time with you. “We’ll pack it up for the night - but you should meet me at the library tomorrow morning, early, so we can go over everything again before the exam.” 
Of course, you were still invested in the idea of him getting a good grade, even if that seemed unlikely to happen. 
“You’re gonna make me get up early?” He whined, hating the idea of missing out on even ten extra minutes of sleep. 
“Yes.” You stressed. “I want you there at seven o’clock. Sharp.” 
Your ultra serious voice ordering him around was undeniably a turn-on for him. No matter what sexual fantasies Stiles cooked up about you in his mind, he could never picture himself having full control over you. In fact, most of the time, he found himself covered in cum at the idea of you having complete control over him. And it was likely because this was how most of your friendship went - you told him what to do, and he did it. And that was a huge part of why he fell for you in the first place. 
When he didn’t verbally confirm the time, too caught up in his infatuation yet again, you let out a gentle growl of frustration. 
“Stiles!” You called out his name. “You have to be there at seven. So you can’t get out of bed at seven - you have to set your alarm for like six-thirty, got it? Don’t make me come over there and get your ass out of bed like last time.” 
This thought caused Stiles’s stomach to clench. 
The last time you had come to his house to wake him up for school (because he had agreed to help you with some bakesale project and you were pissed off that he wasn’t there early to help you set up tables and whatnot) - you had charged into his house in a fury. You had your own key, of course, and his dad wasn’t there to busy you with conversation or pleasantries. 
And you charged right up the stairs and nearly caught him with a hand around his cock, jerking off to a picture of you in a bikini from the summer before. And he had rushed to shove the picture in his nightstand and cocoon himself in the comforter to hide his body just as you made it to the top of the stairs, shouting at him for being late. Luckily, he had gotten away with the lie that he had slept in, rather than revealing the truth that he had been distracted because he had woken up with morning wood after having a heated dream about you. 
When Stiles didn’t respond yet again, you grabbed a smaller decorative pillow from behind you and lightly hit him with it for emphasis, causing him to burst into laughter. 
“Promise me you’ll be on time!” You said, smacking him with the pillow again. 
“Yes, yes! I promise!” He finally agreed, his face becoming pink from laughter. 
You dropped the pillow then, and leaned down, causing his eyes to inadvertently go straight to your cleavage while you gave him a gentle, friendly kiss on the forehead. 
“Good boy.” You responded, praising him for agreeing to your terms. Obviously, it was another joke. 
But these praising words combined with your lips even slightly brushing against his skin, along with your tits dangling so close to his face, had his cock swelling to hardness nearly instantly. He grabbed the pillow then, trying to look subtle as he put it over his crotch, desperately trying to hide the very obvious bulge that had popped up at the front of his jeans within seconds. 
He was lucky when you shifted your attention away from him, now busy with cleaning off the bed, gathering your textbooks in a pile and moving to put them on your desk in the corner. You being distracted gave him a few moments to try and mentally will his dick down, which worked slightly. Only slightly. 
“You could help me, you know.” You mocked him lightly - distracting him from his thoughts of baseball, trying to will the blood out of his cock. 
He looked up and saw you standing there with his backpack, putting away his textbooks and notebooks now. He had been so dumbly distracted by his own dick that he hadn’t noticed you taking the kind initiative to clean up his things for him too. 
“Right, sorry.” He jumped into action and did so, taking things from your hands and shoving them into his bag with haste. 
“You don’t have to rush out, I just need the bed cleared off so I can pick out my clothes for tomorrow.” You told him. 
“Wait - you actually pick out your clothes in advance?” He asked, thinking that this was entirely adorable, and explained why you were always so well dressed. 
(And it explained why you were always so punctual in the mornings while Stiles was usually a mess - running around his house still half-asleep, shoving his head into a shirt that he had sniffed to see if it was clean, shoving things frantically into his bag in order to get out the door five minutes late.) 
“Well you know not all of us are okay with just throwing on last week’s mustard stained tee shirt,” You said, playfully pointing to a mustard stain that he had on his shirt from lunch. 
He rolled his eyes in return, trying to ignore the slight twist of embarrassment that wanted to swell up inside of him at the comment. 
There had been a point where he used to make a very pointed effort to impress you. Back when his crush on you had first gotten serious - likely around the beginning of high school. He used to get up early every single morning, spending a lot of time being intensely picky about the clothes he wore. He drowned himself in cologne (until you had complained about it), he wore certain colors just because you mentioned liking them. But none of it seemed to garner any more of your attention than usual. 
And so, he resigned himself to be the loser best friend who would always just float at the corners of your life, drowning in his secret affection for you until some better, hotter guy came along and swept you off your feet one day. 
He was just glad that day hadn’t come yet. 
Stiles was hesitant to leave - he wasn’t done being around you for the day yet, too emotionally attached. But he guessed that he would need to get some decent sleep before waking up at the asscrack of dawn in order to see more of you the next morning. (Even if it would include the horrors of studying at the library.) 
“So - I’ll see you tomorrow morning?” He posed, ready to take his leave as he swung his backpack over his shoulder. 
“Ooh, wait one second.” You said, eagerness twinging through your voice. 
His heart pounded hard in his chest for a moment, wondering if this could be the moment he had been waiting so long for - would you stop him there, grab him by the shoulders and kiss him hard, and then tell him that you had been feeling the exact same way as he had for all these years? 
“Which one?” You asked, spinning around from your closet to face him, holding up two dresses on hangers. 
Oh. You were asking for his opinion about what you should wear to school the next day. 
“The blue one.” Stiles said, motioning towards it. “That shade of blue looks beautiful on you - it compliments your skin tone well, and it makes you shine. But ya know, you look gorgeous in everything. You could wear a paper bag to school and everyone would still be jealous of how amazing you look.” 
He rambled on for a moment too long, and realized that his genuine fondness for you - something straying too far into romantic territory - was slipping out. 
“But - uh, yeah. I’ll see you later.” He quickly added on, now eager to leave before you could make any further comments. 
Then he dashed out of your room and down the stairs, getting out the front door so fast that he practically left a poof of cartoon dust behind him. 
He got into the Jeep and tossed his bag into the passenger’s seat - which, he hadn’t realized was not even zipped up. (A habit you often scolded him for - going around with his bag unzipped.) Papers and books spilled across the seat and underneath it, and he let out a loud growl of frustration. 
“Idiot!” He screamed, scolding himself as he leaned down, trying to clean everything up. “Idiot, idiot, idiot!” 
Partially, he was feeling so idiotic because he had just been so vulnerable with you and you probably thought he was weird for it. Actually, that was mostly why. 
As he was picking up his things, he realized that - yup, he was missing his English textbook. He had forgotten it in your room. He heaved out a sigh and collapsed back against his seat. He could leave without it - but then he would get an earful from you in the morning about how he was ‘forgetful’ and ‘irresponsible’. Ugh. 
He got out of the Jeep again and shuffled his way back into your house - your mom was working late, so there was nobody there to question him running out of the house at top speed and then appearing back so soon. All he got was a curious chirp and a head tilt from your cat, who was sitting on the top of the stairs. 
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Stiles remarked to the animal, stopping for a moment to pet him. “I’m pathetic. But you can’t rat me out, okay? I know she thinks highly of your opinion and I need you to put in a good word for me. Got it?” 
The cat purred and pushed his face into Stiles’s hand, so he assumed that was a positive affirmation that he would root for Stiles - or at the very least, keep his secret. 
Stiles linger for a moment to scratch the cat’s furry cheek, and then he stepped over the cat and made his way back toward your room. He passed the closed bathroom door and heard the shower running, and he almost cheered. If you were in the shower, then you wouldn’t notice him slipping back in to grab his book, so you couldn’t scold him for being a forgetful idiot. 
He went into your room, and the second he made it through the mouth of your open bedroom, his eyes locked onto your bed like a hot target. Your clothes for the following day were spread out so neatly, and right there, on top of the blue dress he had suggested - there was a pair of lacy purple panties that were something right out of one of his fantasies. 
Stiles had thought about your underwear before - many times. Too many times to count. 
He had even caught small, passing glimpses of your underwear before - when you had worn dresses without tights and bent over in front of him. But he had only seen enough of it to determine the color, not to know if it was lacy or silk or cotton. And even that was enough to send him into a tailspin that had him rushing to the bathroom to relieve his aching cock. 
In the back of his mind - or truly, the forefront of his mind whenever he jerked off to thoughts of you - he always wondered what kind of underwear you wore. What kind of decorative wrapping your pretty pussy would come in if he ever got the other-worldly privilege of getting his hands up your skirt. 
Would they be simple, practical cotton underwear? Would they be cute? Would they be sinfully sexy? Would they be those underwear with the days of the week written across the front? 
But seeing this now - seeing the tangible evidence in front of him that you actually planned to wear purple lacy lingerie to school - it was something that had all sense draining from his mind as blood rushed to his cock once again. He barely had time to think about it - and he didn’t think about it. Because then, they were in his hands, in his pocket, and he was back in the Jeep, hiding his stolen goods in his bag and hastily zipping it up so he could slam his foot on the gas and race home. 
He didn’t even have a chance to think about the fact that he left without the textbook that he had gone back into your room looking for. He didn’t have the attention span to notice that said textbook was in a stack along with your own - almost as if purposefully kept there like an excuse to lure him back into your room, rather than clumsily forgotten by him. 
… 
When Stiles got into his room, he slammed his bedroom door shut behind him, now entirely frantic, and thankful that his father was working a late shift again. He sat down on the edge of his bed, his hands shaking with anticipation as he unzipped his bag and pulled out the thing he had so hastily snagged. 
His mind was warring with so many sensations. Guilt for taking the panties, paranoia that he would get caught, shame that he even had the urge to take them in the first place - but all of that was easily toppled over and forgotten in the name of lust. Overwhelming lust and arousal that he felt for you. Greed and joy at knowing that he had something so private of yours in his hands now - something so secret that he shouldn’t have. A perfect little piece of you. 
His little secret piece of you. 
He still couldn’t believe that this was the kind of underwear you wore on a daily basis. 
Just imagining that this was what you wore to school - thinking about the fact that this was what you were wearing under your clothes during your everyday interactions with him: it drove him wild. 
He easily pictured this pretty lace sticking to your cunt when you were wet, the lavender colored material getting slick and slightly darker, soaked through and visibly sticky when you spread your legs for him to see. He wondered if your pussy would be shaved or not - but you didn’t have a boyfriend, so currently, you didn’t have anybody to shave for. 
He remembered a conversation from a few weeks ago where Scott had wondered if he should shave his pubes for Allison and you had remarked that ‘putting a razor near your junk’ was ‘ill-advised and stupid’ - so you probably didn’t even like shaving your pussy on principle. 
This immediately put a picture in his mind of your pussy being covered in soft hair that matched the shade on your head - maybe a bit darker. It would clump together with your juices and become soaked when you got wet. The little hairs would probably stick out cutely from the sides of the bikini cut underwear, peeking at him. 
Your pussy would be the prettiest thing he had ever seen, he knew that for certain. 
Stiles imagined getting you in the backseat of the Jeep one night after a game. 
He would still be covered in sweat from his efforts, worn out from trying his best. Sure, he wasn’t the best player, but you wanted to ‘reward’ him for his efforts on the winning side, even if he hadn’t directly contributed to the win. 
So as soon as the game was over, before he even had time to change out of his pads or shower, you hauled him to the parking lot and shoved him into the car. His gear was only half-off, ditched hastily by your feet, and you were in his lap - a perfect prize after all the hard work he had done, sitting astride his already sore thigh muscles while you kissed him - hard. Your mouth greedily sucked the oxygen out of his lungs while you shoved your tongue past his lips, painting his tongue with your sweet spit - and fuck, it felt like he was made for this. 
He got sucked so deep into the fantasy - it felt so damn real. 
He imagined having his hands splayed out against your beautiful, plump ass, gripping you tightly, noting wanting you to separate from him for even a section. While you held on tightly to his face, sealing him into the kiss until his lips were sore. And you would only pull back to look into his eyes with glossy desperation and utter out: 
“Please, Stiles. I need you. I need you to touch my pussy.” 
And what else could he do but obey? 
So he would lift up your skirt - a particularly short skirt that you had worn with nothing else but a pair of knee-high socks. Something that you knew he loved to see you cheer for him on the sidelines while wearing. Even though it was a chilly night, you couldn’t feel too cold when you saw him glancing at you every single chance he got. Of course, those distracted stares had gotten him screamed at by Coach more than once. But he loved the way your skirt would flutter up in the nighttime breeze, teasing him. The way the fucking beautiful thick fat of your thighs would jiggle whenever you would jump around in order to cheer him on. 
He was a man of simple, divine tastes. 
So - he would lift up that perfect skirt to find those purple lacy panties underneath; to find the perfection of your wet cunt waiting for him, growing slicker by the second, more needy for him. You were humping yourself against his athletic cup, which his hard cock was practically dying inside of, bursting to get out of the hard shell of plastic to touch you. But he ignored his own needs for a few minutes longer in favor of yours. Reaching forward, sliding his fingers along the wet spot at the front of your panties, absolutely indulging in the beautiful gasp you let out when his touch grazed across your swollen clit through the fabric. 
“Stiles, please.” 
He could almost hear it - it was so fucking clear inside his mind. The way your voice would be so pitched with desperation, so perfectly needy curled around his name. He wanted so badly to hear it in real life. 
And he would push those panties to the side, pushing his fingers inside of your hot, wet cunt-
Back in the real world, Stiles’s cock gave a needy pulse, leaking into his boxers. 
He heaved out a sigh, his cock practically vibrating with blood. He had driven home the whole time trying to ignore that boner, but he simply couldn’t do that anymore. He just had to give in. 
He hesitantly put your panties aside - already feeling a strange sense of attachment to them - and reached to his nightstand, grabbing the bottle of lube that he had in the drawer. Shamefully, it was already half empty, mostly due to the fantasies that he had about you. He undid his pants and had them around his ankles in record time, and whipped off his shirt for good measure, knowing that he was quite a ‘splasher’ and not wanting to get cum on it to pair with that ugly mustard stain. 
He lubed up his cock more than a healthy amount, knowing that it would contribute to the fantasy of you being so wet around him. It was a distant fantasy that he would never actually get to achieve, but hell - a man can dream. Then he began to slowly pump his cock in hand, wanting to milk it and truly enjoy it, and he let his mind get back to work. 
He thought back to your place. A place he was comfortable, spent a lot of time at hanging out with you. 
He imagined that early that night when he had forgotten his book, rather than you being in the shower, he went back to your room and found that you had been getting ready for bed. You were rubbing sweet-smelling lotion on your arms, pulling back the covers, wearing nothing but a pair of cute little socks, a tiny camisole - where he could very visibly see that you weren’t wearing a bra, with the natural teardrop shape of your breasts bared to the eye, your nipples poking through the fabric - and those purple lace panties. 
When he would appear in the doorway, you would gawk at him and ask: 
“Stiles? What are you doing? Did you… forget something?” 
But you would be positioned half leaning over the bed, taking back the covers so it would be comfortable for you to sleep - and your ass would be unintentionally on full display. Your sweet pussy lips peeking at him from behind, the roundness of your ass so fucking inviting, daring him to leave bite marks across the beautifully fat flesh. 
And after a few moments of him staring so brazenly, saying nothing, simply drinking in the gorgeous sight of your body bent over, wearing so little clothing, wearing those perfect little lace panties-
(Stiles sped up his hand on his cock, the lube sounding downright sloppy in the silence of the room.) 
You would stand up to your full height, come to him in the doorway, put your face so close to his and say: 
“If you’re gonna spend so much time staring at me like a gaping idiot, then you should do something about it.” 
Stiles had to stop the swift movements of his hand and clutch his grip tightly around the base of his cock, making his entire dick throb hard as he edged off his own orgasm. 
He still wasn’t sure why the idea of you calling him an ‘idiot’ in such a brazen tone made him want to cum so hard - but he didn’t have time to unpack all that now. 
He grabbed up the panties again with his non-lubed hand. Something in the back of his mind thought that it would be a crime for him to get them dirty. Another part argued that he would absolutely love to get them covered in his cum, not clean them, and then return them to you. That it would be fucking thrilling to have you wear them in that dirtied state. 
Though he knew that would never fucking happen. 
If he returned the panties to you covered in his cum, then you would slap him, call him a pervert, and likely have Scott beat the shit out of him with his newly harnessed werewolf strength. Stiles pushed this thought to the back of his mind, though. 
Out of curiosity, he lifted the fabric to his nose and took a whiff. They smelled like fresh laundry - a nice lemony detergent. Of course they weren’t ones you had previously worn - they were a pair you had been planning on wearing tomorrow. 
He distantly wondered if that meant you would not be wearing underwear tomorrow, because he had taken your intended pair. And that could have led his mind down a whole different filthy track, but instead - he began to wonder what a pair of your dirty underwear might smell like. 
You should take a pair of used ones. A voice in his mind told him. Snatch them right out of the hamper. Come on, you’re over at her place all the time. She won’t even notice them gone. 
Terrible idea. Terrible rabbit hole. 
But what would they smell like? 
He wasn’t deluded enough to think that pussy smelled like roses. He had never been close enough to one - a real pussy - before to actually know. Yes, he was a virgin. He could have said that he was waiting, ‘saving it’ for you - but every other girl, including you, was smart enough to look past him. There were plenty of other guys who were better looking and more charming than him, and probably better in bed than him, that girls had chosen instead of him. 
He wondered if your pussy smelled like that perfect bit of sweat that you gathered at the end of a long day. Sometimes when he went to hug you before the two of you parted ways, he would catch a whiff of the tiniest undertone of musk, a good amount of sweat paired with the berry scented body spray you had put on that morning, and orange tic-tacs you had popped after lunch. It was a delectable combination. 
He imagined that your cunt would smell like that bit of sweat, combined with the blueberry body wash you used - the one he knew about and loved because of the time you had insisted he use your shower while stinking up a study session because he had skipped the showers after lacrosse practice when he was late to be with you. 
He imagined getting hints of that blueberry body wash smell coming off your thighs when his head was buried between them. What would your cunt taste like? That was a mystery he wanted to solve live. 
He could always imagine the other aspects so well. 
He could imagine the feeling of the heat under his tongue, the perfect feeling of your wetness mixing with his spit. He imagined getting to bounce your swollen clit against his tongue and while feeling your moans and cries of his name vibrate through your body as he pleasured you so well - the feeling of your pubes brushing against his cheeks as his entire face became soaked with your wetness. 
But the taste - that was something he could never conjure up in his mind, no matter how hard he tried. 
He knew that eating your pussy would be perfect. Not just because he would be giving you pleasure, serving you. But he so often dreamed of having his head smothered by your thighs, having you grab his head and shove him tighter into your cunt, you purposeful and demanding. You having that beautiful control over him while he drowned in your wetness. 
He knew that he would likely cum in his pants from eating you out if he ever got the privilege of doing so, and even if you laughed at him - stupidly, he would find that hot too. 
Stiles picked up the pace again, pumping his cock in hand evenly and firmly - even reaching down with the other hand to cradle his balls, gently rolling the flesh in his hand as he got lost in another fantasy of you. 
He imagined the two of you in his bed - textbooks forgotten and pushed off onto the floor, your dress hiked up around your hips, and again, those fucking purple lace panties. He was on top of you, hovering on his knees so that his hard cock wouldn’t brush against you (even through his jeans) while the two of you sloppily made-out. 
It wasn’t long before you pulled away from his kiss-swollen lips. 
“Stiles,” You purred into his ear, kissing along his neck. “You know, you’re so pathetic.” 
These words had his cock jumping, spurting out precum - in his fantasy, it made his underwear messy as you undid his fly. 
In the real world, it made his hand messy as he continued to rhythmically jerk his cock. 
“I’m not gonna let you fuck me.” You told him, contrasting these words with your intentions as you put your hands inside his waistband and shoved his pants and underwear down over his hips - down to his knees until his hard, throbbing cock was exposed. “Not until you prove yourself.” 
Before Stiles could ask the question, the beautiful, fantastic you that he had made up inside his mind gave him the perfect answer. 
“Get yourself off by rubbing your pathetic dick against my panties. And then - I might let you fuck me.” 
In the real world, Stiles let out a throttled moan - a choked sound that surely would have had his father knocking on the door to ask if he was okay if he was at home. And then he rushed to grab the panties again, and without even thinking, he used his sticky lubed up hand to position the fabric around his dick. It was a coarse roughness compared to the slick smoothness he had previously been feeling, but it did wonders to complete his fantasy as he delved back to the you inside of his mind. 
He started rubbing the slightly lube-sticky rough fabric up and down his dick at a very slow pace as he imagined it: 
Being perched between your thighs, with the fabric of the panties stuck to your wet cunt, his cock hard and leaking as he tucked himself right up against you and began to rub his dick against you in order to get off. Just like you wanted, just like you had ordered him to do. 
“Please.” Stiles chanted, the words leaking out of his lips, chanted into his empty bedroom as he pleaded to the imaginary you that would always have a hold over him - just as tight of a hold as the real you had. “Please, please - oh fuck.” 
He moved the fabric over his cock faster as he moved his hips faster in the fantasy, imagining how hot your pussy would feel against him, imagining your nails digging into his hips as you looked up at him with mocking and adoration in your eyes. He imagined you forcing his hips faster, trapping him in place with your knees bracketed around his thighs, showing him absolutely no mercy. 
“Please, please, please.” He chanted, knowing with a distant part of his mind that he must have sounded utterly delirious. “Please, Y/N, lemme cum-” 
“Cum for me, Stiles.” 
Confirmed by that fantasy version of you and truly unable to hold it any longer, Stiles arched up off the bed, cumming all over his own fist. Just as he had predicted, it was an utter, uncontrollable mess. He shot cum all over his stomach, and absolutely soaked the fabric of the panties - making a horrible mess of them. Which, the lube had definitely already done. He laid there for a single moment catching his breath before it truly hit him. 
Fuck. He had fucked up. 
You would definitely notice the underwear missing after a while and he certainly couldn’t return them to you in this condition. 
… 
Stiles spent the next hour in the bathroom, absolutely panicking over how to get them clean. Luckily, he wasn’t a total idiot and he looked up the washing instructions online - and after hand-washing them in warm water with a ‘gentle’ detergent (handsoap was the best that he could do), they came out perfectly clean. 
The only problem? 
Hang to dry. 
He set his alarm for early, earlier than you suggested, and prayed that he wouldn’t sleep through it. In fact, he set three more alarms just to make sure. He couldn’t have you or his father barging into his room to wake him up when he had a pair of your stolen panties pinned to his corkboard in order to properly dry them so that he could sneak them back to you in good condition. 
… 
The next day, he departed for school by 6:45 with the stolen goods hidden away in his bag, ready to sneak them back into your room later that afternoon. He made it to the library ten whole minutes before seven, and you seemed shocked that he was not only on time - but early. 
“Wow.” You said, having just gotten there yourself, spreading out your items at a table - including a tray with some coffees. “You know, Stiles, I am impressed.” 
“You don’t have to act so - so shocked.” He replied, partially interrupted by a yawn. 
You leaned over to get a pen from your bag, and Stiles’s eyes immediately went to your ass, unconsciously trying to spot panty lines through your dress and tights - wondering if you were even wearing underwear because he had stolen the ones you had intended for today. 
Focus, Stiles. Focus. 
“Well, if you weren’t here by seven sharp like I told you, I was gonna pour this in the garbage.” You told him, taking his coffee out of the paper tray and sliding it toward him. 
“You don’t have to be so mean.” He chuckled, airy and light - very secretly annoyed with the way your ‘mean’ streak affected him sometimes. Why did he have to be turned on by you scolding him and punishing him? Why? 
“Hey, if I’m not mean then you never get anything done.” You told him truthfully. “And you know how it works by now. Good boys get rewards and bad boys get spanked.” You told him, letting out a bright laugh - indicating that it was clearly meant to be a joke. 
But instantly, it shook his mind with imagery of you bending him over the table, ripping his pants down and spanking him until he came untouched and cried for mercy, forcing him to agree that he would behave and listen to you. He became downright dizzy at the thought. 
You meant it as a joke - he had to sharply remind himself. But the way you so casually called him a ‘good boy’, said that he was deserving of a ‘reward’ - it sent chills down his spine and already had his cock waking up. Too early. Bad rabbit hole. 
If he was any sort of brave, he would have pushed it more and asked you what kind of ‘reward’ you had in mind. But he wasn’t, and he was too tired to analyze the potential consequences. 
“Oh!” You said, as though suddenly remembering something. You moved to grab your bag again and Stiles closed his eyes to forcefully keep himself from staring at your ass. “You left this at my place last night.” You told him, sliding his English textbook across the table toward him. 
He was too busy trying to calm his own lust that he missed the smirk on your face - the mischief lingering in your eyes, the intention in your tone. He was too caught up, drowning in his own affections for you that he never would have pieced together that you had taken in and hidden it on purpose as a ploy to get him to come back. That you had put out some other bait for him to find. 
“Thanks.” He said quietly. “So - what do we need to go over before the test?”
“Everything.” 
Stiles groaned.
...
Edit to my notes as of Oct. 9th, 2024:
It is now my biggest regret announcing that there is a sequel to this fic in my drafts, but there is one that is fully written and just needs to be edited (but that is something that takes time and effort - neither of which I am going to put into the fic right now). However, it will not be posted anytime soon, and it is delayed infinitely. It will be posted when it is posted (and currently I don't know when that will be), and I would appreciate people not chasing me down and not asking about it.
Originally, my point of having a comment and reblog goal on this fic was so that a certain percentage of the people who read and liked the preview for this fic would have to reblog it, but the ratio on this fic is still absolutely horrendous, and it's clear to me that once people saw that goal was met, they didn't care to reblog this fic or comment on it if they enjoyed it - they only care to nag me and chase me down for the sequel while this fic sits at over 600 likes and less than 100 reblogs and comments (including my replies to people's comments).
If you are reading this fic after the edit, I hope you enjoyed it. I hope you do stick around on my blog while I work on and post other things. But the sequel to this fic will not be coming out anytime soon because I am a person with shifting interests, not a robot. Those shifting interests (and me chasing them organically) is the reason that I can produce 200k of fanfiction in a year and post all of it for free for people to enjoy.
And as always - if you enjoyed this fic, please comment about the body of work that has been written. And perhaps, consider reblogging it to show your appreciation. Please do not comment about the sequel.
If you want to be tagged in the next part, you can ask to be put on my Teen Wolf taglist by interacting with this post, but please know that if you don't follow my taglist rules, you will be removed from the taglist promptly. If that happens, you are still welcome to read and enjoy future fics, you just won't be included in my taglists ever again.
Happy reading, and I hope you enjoyed the fic!!
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batshit-auspol · 10 months ago
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have we talked about the woolworths debacle yet?
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Sigh.
Alright kids strap in, because the culture wars are back and stupider than ever.
So there are two characters you need to be familiar with in this story before we continue:
Woolies (i.e. Woolworths) - One of two supermarket chains in Australia. Not related to the giant Woolworths chain that used to exist overseas, other than the Aussie one swiped the name because the original forgot to trademark the name 'Woolworths' here. Biggest company in Aus, and also the biggest employer. Not a brand anyone with more than two braincells would pick a fight with.
Peter Dutton - Man with less than two braincells, and current leader of the political opposition in Australia. Best known for bearing a passing resemblance to a potato and once demanding that a homophobic song get played for balance when a football halftime show performed 'Same Love'. His reputation is so bad that if you told an Australian that Dutton's favorite pastime was drowning puppies, they probably would believe you.
And to prove our point, here's the best headline a friendly newspaper could come up with to try spin his image:
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The third thing you need to know is that in Australia we have a national holiday called "Australia Day" which is basically a scheduled day for everyone to get into a giant argument.
This is because for the last 30ish years it has been held on the anniversary of the British claiming the land around Sydney as a colony which was:
a) More the founding of an English prison then the founding of Australia, and more importantly
b) from the perspective of the people who were already living here, kindof a very shit day
Now not everyone agrees on this, and even those that don't 'celebrate' will often still have a get together with friends, but it can't be denied that we've shifted a long way from the days when the country used to celebrate Australia Day by kitting ourselves out in Aussie flag budgie smugglers, drinking enough beer to drown Harold Holt, and partying like it's 1789.
(Now a brief break for a real photo of Peter Dutton at a press conference)
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Good luck sleeping tonight. Anyway back to the story.
As a result of this shift away from the trend of showing your patriotism by wearing Australian flag underpants, this year Woolworths decided that they were no longer going to be rolling out their box of southern cross thongs - on the grounds that "this kitschy shit never sells" and they are far too busy with more important things like blaming price gouging on inflation and installing self-checkout machines that think your canvas bag is a crime against humanity.
Never a man to miss an opportunity to act like a massive twat, upon hearing that Woolies had dumped their flag merch, Peter Dutton rushed onto the airwaves to declare that Woolworths had "gone woke" (paging 4chan circa 2009) and called for the country to boycott the store, a story which Australia's media have gleefully put on loudhale for over a week now in order to drive outrage clicks.
We at this point remind you that Woolworths is a company which, as we previously mentioned, basically has a monopoly on selling food in this country. Not exactly something you can boycott.
(Another real Dutton photo break)
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Needless to say Dutton's dumbass plan did not immediately put Woolies out of business, however the relentless media campaign by Rupert Murdoch's minions did result in a bunch of innocent low-wage floor staff being harrassed by The Dark Lord's fanboys and a few Woolies stores were graffitied.
Allegedly being the 'free market' guy, Dutton also kindof snookered himself by demanding the free market not decide the fate of Australia day, but logic was never one of his strong suits.
Anyway, in the end we're just going to keep having this dumb circular argument every year, fulled by a media who love fanning the flames, until a politician has the guts to shift the date to May 8 (pronounced m8), and everyone promptly forgets this was ever a thing.
All in all, that's the long and the short of it. As a final touch we'll leave you with this real tweet by Opposition Leader Peter Dutton, in all its batshit glory.
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We look forward to the absolute dumpster fire of comments this post is going to generate - as is the Australia Day tradition.
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lovemikage · 1 month ago
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𝘽𝙀𝘿 𝘾𝙃𝙀𝙈 : 𝙢𝙚𝙜𝙪𝙧𝙪 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙧𝙖 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ( 𝙛𝙩. 𝙞𝙨𝙖𝙜𝙞 )
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summary: you confess to your boyfriend bachira you think his best friend isagi is cute. he decides to do some meddling of his own. wc: 1.4k warnings: fem!reader, dub-conish (reader isn't aware isagi is there oops), humiliation, praise, gratuitous dialogue a/n: hello hello beautiful people ! this is my submission for @ficsforgaza 's kinktober event, with the prompt bachira & humiliation ! please check out the other writers + fics if they tickle your fancy. i have not written smut like this in ... a year, i think, so please be gentle with me. hope you love it, please comment & rb if you do ! credit to @/cafekitsune for the beautiful mdni divider !
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" he feels the same, you know. i don’t know why you were so secretive. "
your eyes, previously squeezed shut, fly open, and every muscle that had been turned into jelly from your recent orgasm tenses up immediately. you shift with the intention to move away from your boyfriend, but it’s in vain – bachira’s large palm and long fingers splay against your pelvis, pushing you down into the bed. it doesn’t hurt, nothing with bachira ever does, but it’s insistent in the same way his fingers circling your clit are. 
" what do you – ah! – m-meguru, what do you m-mean? " you know what he means, you’re unsure why you’re asking. bachira doesn’t mind, though, he always loves to tell a story. 
“ well – " his tone is sing-song, sickly sweet, and it’s clear he’s having way more fun than he should be ( than you think he should be, anyway ). a lithe finger pushes its way through your folds to slip inside of you, and your hips buck at the same time you whine – too much, not yet, still sensitive. he won’t listen, “ remember that one time you told me ‘sagi was cute? then played it off like you were joking? you were right, by the way, so don’t think i’m mad, promise i’m not. but it got me thinking – "
one finger turns to two and the burn makes you squeeze your eyes shut again. it’s nothing compared to the stretch of his cock, but enough to make you just that little bit uncomfortable. it doesn’t help that you’re so on edge, “ bachira – "
“ shhhhh. anyway, it got me thinking, you know? he’d never admit it ‘cause he’s my best friend, but i know he thinks you’re cute. " the look you give him has his head shaking, “ don’t talk! i’m not done – i remembered, when we first met you he called dibs. you liked me more – obviously – so that didn’t matter, just a funny joke after the fact. regardless, i had the idea to … well, i was eavesdropping on you the other day – "
an indignant sound leaves you and you squirm more; bachira sighs, lets his golden eyes flick down to your ankle, pretty pink panties dangling from them. quickly he pauses, uses the hand on your hips to pick it up. you whimper, both from the loss of movement inside of you and because you know what he’s about to do, you’ve had enough sex throughout the course of your relationship ( more than normal, according to your friends ). you’re proved right when he taps the side of your cheek, prompting you to open up – you do, ever-obedient, despite the red-hot humiliation burning in your cheeks. cotton presses between your lips and fills your mouth, your whine becomes muffled. bachira beams, “ there we go. always so good for me, hm? “ another pat to your cheek. your eyes start to water – you feel like a prized showdog or something. 
“ much better. " you fight the urge to roll your eyes; it doesn’t last long because bachira’s back to hovering next to you, his shadow imposing. you feel vulnerable, exposed and open for whatever he wants to do. right now, it seems like all he wants to do is make you cum in the most embarrassing way possible. he scissors his fingers and grins when you cry out, big and goofy and too lighthearted for what he’s talking about, “ back to what i was saying – i was eavesdropping on you and your friends the other night. sue me, i’m curious. heard you talking about him – agreeing when one of them said he’s hot, you know, stuff like that. kept it in the back of my mind for later. but then – yesterday, when i came home, i got here earlier than you thought i did. found you. ” 
your mind races in an attempt to figure out where your boyfriend is going with all of this. yesterday, yesterday – oh. oh my god. 
“ you’re so cute when you moan, you know? i know i always tell you, but i can’t help it. so pretty, just like – " bachira curls his fingers, lets them brush against that sweet, spongy spot inside of you that makes you see stars, eliciting a low, muffled moan, “ – that. you were doing that, saying my name, like always. i was just about ready to go in when i heard his, too. s’when i realized it was time. "
the tears previously welling up fall, now. big, fat droplets running down your face, taking your mascara with them and smearing the pretty makeup you’d done for your date tonight. you feel pathetic, like you’d been caught. it makes sense, now; you thought you had heard him come in before he announced himself, but it didn’t make sense, so you brushed it off. now you realize he had just gone back out and made a point of announcing his entrance the second time. you want to look away in embarrassment but bachira won’t let you, his fingers picking up their pace at the same time he grips your chin in his hand. combined with the panties stuffing your mouth, you can’t say what you want to – i’m sorry, i’m sorry, it doesn’t mean anything, i’m sorry. 
what’s worse is it all feels so good, bachira’s fingers pumping inside of you at an almost dizzying pace, thumb carefully circling your clit with just enough pressure to make all thoughts leave your head. you can feel your orgasm fast approaching, a knot in your tummy threatening to unravel. it always amazes you, how bachira knows just how to make you fall apart within seconds. he knows you inside and out, could take you apart and put you back together again. sometimes you think he’d probably like to. 
in your panicked state, though, you hadn’t realized what he said – it’s time. time for what?
wide, wet eyes, embarrassed and earnest all at once, meet bachira’s own – tender, loving, with that bit of mischief behind them. the eyes you love so much. 
as always, he seems to read your mind, and his soft, fond smile turns to another shit-eating grin. his fingers don’t stop their pace when he speaks again, “ thought i’d ask him to join us. you’d like that, wouldn’t you baby? oh – " his words break off into a moan, his collected exterior cracking if only for a moment. the way you clench around him tells him everything he needs to know. 
not like he’d just take that as an answer, though. 
“ she likes that, huh? pretty pussy needs two cocks to be satisfied. i know, i know, s’okay – we just need to make sure that you want it. i need to make sure you want it. don’t needa use your words, you know that. be good for me, baby, like you always are. ”
you break, then – you gush around the fingers digging deep inside of you, your eyes blown wide, glazed over from his sweet talk. all embarrassment melts away, your brain mush. while your legs shake and your hips buck you nod, almost wildly, whining and crying around the intrusion in your mouth while bachira fucks you through it all. you do want isagi here, you want them both, you want – everything, really. your hand grips his arm so hard you’re sure you’re leaving nail marks, pulling him close in what you can only describe as an attempt to make him a part of you. your bachira. 
“ fuck this. you’re an asshole, bachira. can’t believe you made me fucking watch. i’ll be there in ten. ”
you freeze, snapped out of subspace in an instant. you register a lot of things, then – how hard bachira is against your leg, cock thick and heavy and leaking; how that voice definitely belonged to isagi, irritated and gruff; and how bachira’s no longer grinning at you but at the laptop set up on his desk. the one you’d thought was off. 
“ don’t be mad. ” again, bachira knows you, which is why he says it the second the call drops. you’re too embarrassed to speak, just looking at him dumbfounded and still fucked out from your previous orgasms, “ and don’t try to clean up. he’ll be sad if it’s not messy. ”
you shut your eyes to try and push away the humiliation. there’s a pause from your boyfriend, and while you can’t see him, you can feel him slinking down the bed, making himself comfortable between your thighs. you crack an eye open to see him looking up at you, almost pleading, “ think you can give me one more? pleaseeeee. he’s gonna hog you when he gets here! ”
you can’t do much else but nod, accepting your fate. it was what you wanted, after all.
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luveline · 1 year ago
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Omg I love the hot bombshell bau reader x Spencer!! Could you write a scenario with them when the team is out drinking and she’s flirting with him even more & she can take it a lil further because they’re not in work? Thank you🥰
thank you for your request! this isn't a perfect fit of what you asked for but I hope you like it! fem!reader, 1k
"Psst! Psst!" Your perfume floats his way. "Spencer!" 
Spencer turns to your whisper shouting, much less whisper than you probably mean it to be. You're as in his personal space as you can manage without falling into his lap. Luckily, the rest of the team seem to be more interested in the previously unheard story Emily's deigned to tell about a Sin to Win weekend in Atlanta, and no one turns to investigate your secret.
"What?" he asks.
"Can you get me another drink?" you whisper. You insisted on sitting next to him, your breath sharp with cherry liqueur. If you hadn't, he would've tried to make it this way anyhow.
It's not fair. You've drunk enough to get cut off and still you look so pretty, bombshell through and through —there's no other word for it. Your eyes are glittering and unsmudged despite an evening of laughter and a pitcher's worth of bourbon bombs, and they're looking at him with this weird pinching pleading that makes his stomach twist. 
"I don't think you should have anything else." 
"Spence…" You put your hand on his thigh. Not cupping it, nowhere inappropriate, just your fingertips pressed to the fabric of his pants as you twist in your seat to beg. "Please, Spencer. Please." 
He really likes you, and this tone you're using threatens to haunt him forever. Resigned, he moves your hand off of his leg and grabs your empty glasses. "A spritzer," he says, standing up from the booth. "That's it." 
"Hey, no," JJ says, her thin brows pinching as she smiles, perplexed. "She's cut off." 
"That's why Spencer's going to get it for me. He's my angel," you brag, words tipping, tumbling all over the place. 
Spencer looks at the disapproving expressions on their faces, Hotch, Emily, Derek and JJ all looking as though they learned how to frown from the same place. Only Penelope and Rossi seem encouraging. Penelope tipsy herself, and Rossi a self-professed believer in, "Living life to the fullest. Get the girl another drink, Reid." 
"A spritzer," Spencer says again. 
You smile gleefully and follow him out of your seats toward the bar. The barkeep gives Spencer a knowing look when he orders your drink but doesn't say anything when Spencer puts the change in the tip jar, which is questionable. Spencer secures your cold beverage and hands it to you, fully intending on walking you back to the booth. 
You pull him off course. He has little power in the situation, a yelp and a yank and you're dragging him toward the bar jukebox. Your spritzer paints your hand as you put it down, lips wet with it as you beam at him from over your shoulder. 
"Pick a song?" you ask. 
"I don't know if they'll have anything I like." 
"Pick one anyways." 
Spencer has to stand directly behind you to read the titles. "Why don't you pick one?" he asks gently. 
You sway. He doesn't know if it's down to the alcohol or the five seconds of music that plays as you scroll through songs. "I don't have a dollar."
Spencer laughs and gets his wallet out, handing you two dollars from the fold. "There. Pick two." 
"You're such a nice guy, Spencer, and I don't mean it like, oh, you're a nice guy, you don't mess girls around, I mean…" You fold the dollars he gave you mindlessly. "I mean, you're just nice. In the best sense of the word. You're gentle, kind…" 
You gasp, sounding pained. Spencer's hand leaps to the small of your back, "What? What's wrong?" 
"They have Out of Touch by Hall and Oates. Hold my spritzer, handsome, I need to put this on before I die." 
Derek comes looking for you both somewhere in the second play of the same song. Spencer's cheeks are bright pink, people staring in confusion at the repeat and the pretty drunk woman speaking the words. Spencer tries to flag Derek for saving, but when Derek sees the way you've wrapped your arms around Spencer's bicep, he chuckles and waves goodbye. 
You look up to Spencer eagerly. You're close enough to kiss him. "You know how to play nine ball?" 
"In theory," he says weakly. 
"Good! If I win you can buy me another spritzer, and if you win, I'll let you take me home." 
Spencer was always going to be taking you home tonight, but for a distinctly different reason. "If you win," he says, licking his lips, "I'll give you another dollar for the jukebox." 
"And if you win?" you ask.
"I'll take you home," he says slowly. "But only to take you home." 
"That's cute." 
No matter what drunken delusion you're under, Spencer does end up taking you home after a third round of Hall and Oates. You're not so drunk as to need help standing, and you manage to get to bed without help. He just wants to make sure you lock the door. 
You kiss him on the cheek, your hand behind his neck like you might turn his lips to yours. Spencer turns his face away. 
"I'm not gonna try anything, Spence," you say, stroking the hair at the nape of his neck. "Just wanted to say thanks. You'll stay, right? Don't get the train." 
Spencer sleeps on your couch. In the morning he wakes to the smell of eggs fried in sesame oil and the heavy scent of hot chocolate. Oh, and you in your tiny pyjama shorts at the helm, completely untouched by the copious booze intake of the night before. "Loverboy," you sing-song. "Come on! I'm gonna sit in your lap and feed you like a Grecian emperor. It'll be fun." 
It'll definitely be something. 
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bueckers · 6 months ago
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² 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 ━━━ 𝐏𝐁
part one. a/n | here’s part 2 ! thank you for the love on the first one & please feel free to send requests to my inbox.
summary: in which the pleasure elicits a confession.
warning(s): car sex, jealousy, p eating, heated make-out, face riding, arguing, & love confessions.
pairing: paige bueckers x fem reader
It had been about two weeks since Paige’s confession, leaving you puzzled. Since then, there had been no texts, no calls, not even a knock at your door with an explanation. Paige had left you high and dry, her silence taking over the spaces she used to fill with her presence.
Today was Azzi’s birthday, a celebration you couldn’t miss despite the predicament you were in with her best friend. The girls hadn’t asked you about the night you stormed out of Paige’s room half naked, but you knew that they all knew now and there was no covering it up. Paige must’ve gave them intel— but it made you wonder what exactly she told them.
Despite this, you and Azzi had always shared a close bond, and you wouldn’t let Paige ruin that. The plan for the evening was straightforward: a night out at the club, drinks with the team, and a few of Azzi’s other friends. It promised to be a casual gathering, one where you could avoid an uncomfortable confrontation with Paige if you played your cards right.
You’d already been at Azzi’s dorm with Caroline, Aubrey, and Paige who had been keeping her distance from you since you arrived. After helping her pick out an outfit and adjusting her hair just the way she wanted it to be, the five of you all headed out and piled into Paige’s car, Azzi in the front and you having to take the middle of the backseat because of your shorter figure.
Everyone stayed engrossed in conversation, yourself only throwing out small comments when it was needed. As the song changed, you immediately became familiar with the playlist Paige was playing— the one you both shared for both intimate moments and late night drives. The voice of Drake’s Heat of the Moment echoed through the car, causing you to dart your eyes up to the rear view mirror to get a good look at Paige, squinting your eyes a bit. You knew the game she was playing.
She must have felt your gaze because, right then and there, she looked up too. You could only see her eyes, but it was enough to read her expression. It wasn’t cocky or teasing; it was filled with longing. There was meaning. Tearing your eyes away, you found yourself staring past Aubrey and out the dark window, as if you could really see anything. Your hands fidgeted in your lap as you waited impatiently to dart out of the car.
After a few moments, you seemed to have arrived at the club. Aubrey snapped her fingers twice, breaking you out of your daze and chuckling a little. “You good?” she asked as everyone began unbuckling their seatbelts. You grinned at her, quickly glancing at the mirror where Paige was already looking at you. That brief eye contact made you revert your gaze back to the girl next to you.
“Yeah, fine,” you assured her, though your mind was anything but settled.
It had been a long night. You weren’t even sure of the time but you’d been about four drinks in alongside Azzi who had definitely had more than you, dancing sloppily with her teammates. It didn’t matter to anyone though as long as the birthday girl was having the time of her life.
You hadn’t seen Paige since you parted ways from the car, and you were prepared to keep it that way. You’d previously been sitting with Jana and Ayanna at the bar before Jana announced she had to use the restroom. With your drunken state, you assured them that you’d be okay by yourself for a few minutes instead of walking through mounds of people while Ayanna accompanied her.
Twirling the straw around in the empty glass that had previously held your vodka soda, you looked around your surroundings innocently, trying to not make it seem like you were looking for anyone in particular. But you were. You were scanning the crowd, hoping to catch a glimpse of Paige, yet she remained elusive. The dim, pulsating lights of the club only added to your growing sense of frustration and confusion. Had she intentionally been avoiding you all night, or was it just a coincidence?
“Looking for someone?” an unfamiliar voice called from next to you. Your eyebrows furrowed as you slowly turned toward the stool beside you, raking your eyes up the body of a female— a very attractive one at that. She chuckled, her curls bouncing with the motion. She bore a slight resemblance to Aubrey, or maybe it was just the alcohol making your perception a little off. Her presence was a welcome distraction, so you didn’t mind it.
You smiled sheepishly, your fingers moving mindlessly around the straw. “Why, you wanna buy me a drink?” you flirted. Maybe Paige was the best at flirting, but you dabbled in it.
“I’m not opposed to that,” she smirked at you before calling the bartender over and paying for your next drink. Her confidence was disarming, and you couldn’t help but feed into it. It was certainly a way to win over a drunk girl. Here was someone who was clearly interested in you, a stark contrast to the ambiguity and distance Paige had left you with. You decided to lean into the moment, allowing yourself to be swept up in the flirtation, at least for now.
Eventually, the girl, Lena had pulled you onto the dance floor, her hand grasping yours warmly. The alcohol definitely loosened your limbs and blurred the edges of your thoughts as Lena stayed close, her own moves fluid, drawing you further into her orbit. You were living in the moment and all things Paige had seemed to be forgotten about.
You weren’t sure how much time had slipped by. You lost count of the songs, your only focus being her presence. You weren’t normally one to get so comfortable with someone so quickly, but Lena made it easy. The crowded dance floor felt like a cocoon, insulating you from any lingering thoughts.
But the spell was broken when you caught sight of a familiar face approaching through the throng of dancers. Paige was weaving her way toward you, her expression a storm of emotions that you couldn’t quite pinpoint.
As she swooped in next to you, you were too shocked to move as she spoke, her hand wrapping possessively around your waist. “There you are, baby,” she said loudly enough to be heard over the music, her voice edged with a sharpness that made Lena’s eyebrows rise in surprise.
“Excuse me?” Lena’s eyes flicked between you and Paige, confusion mingling. God, you felt bad, but you truly couldn’t bring yourself to say anything despite Paige not being your girlfriend or this being her place. Only Paige could make you at loss for words in a situation like this. Only Paige would put you in a situation like this.
Paige didn’t miss a beat. “I been looking for her all night.” she smiled cockily at Lena, who seemed to be just as perplexed as you were. “Come on, let’s get some air,” she urged, glancing down at you as you licked your lips in frustration. You could hear the fake joy in her voice. You barely had time to shoot an apologetic look at Lena before Paige was leading you through the crowd, yourself stumbling a bit as you barely made it.
Outside, the cool night air hit you like a splash of cold water, clearing some of the fog from your mind. You managed to wiggle out of Paige’s grasp, shooting her a look that she found amusing as you both arrived in front of the car. Your figure trailing a little behind her. She turned around, crossing her arms and looking at you with a mix of anger and something else you couldn’t quite place. Why was she upset?
“What the hell was that?” you demanded, your own temper flaring now that you were away from the noise and the crowd. “You always do this shit and I’m so fucking sick of it. You stopped caring about me a long time ago, Paige. Stop trying to remind me that you exist after every fuck up because you know I’ll fall into you every time.” You weren’t thinking about what you said before you said it— you didn’t even let Paige get a word out as you watched her facial expression soften in front of you. The entire situation had sobered you up and you could feel a headache coming in.
Paige took a deep breath, her eyes still burning with jealousy. “I couldn’t just stand there and watch you with her,” she admitted, her voice softer but no less intense. “It drove me crazy.”
“You avoided me the whole night— fuck, a whole two weeks! I think you can handle me trying to get in bed with a different girl.” You couldn’t fathom why she could treat you so poorly but not want to see you with anyone else. It irked you knowing she just wanted to hang onto the piece of you that still cared for her on a deeper level than sex and use it to her advantage. It hurt you.
Paige scoffed, her eyes widening before her tongue began to swarm her mouth in amusement. “Oh, that’s what this is about? The sex?”
You shook your head, becoming annoyed with the conversation and ready to storm off. “You don’t get it. You’re never gonna fucking get it.”
Paige’s eyes darted from yours to behind you for a brief moment, making you whip your head around to see a group of people looking your way, concerned looks on their faces. You both recognized the loudness of the conversation, and Paige was quick to move it. She opened the passenger door from behind her, motioning for you to get in with her hands and eyes.
You stood there, unamused. “I’m not getting in the car with you, Paige,” you said simply, a chuckle following your words. You didn’t want to because you knew being in such close proximity with her while trying to stand your ground and stay angry would not go well for you, especially with how good she looked tonight. But she always looked good— this was nothing new.
However, as you slowly met her eyes from just a few feet away, you ultimately knew just how over it was for you. “Get in the car, (y/n).” Her words were slow yet firm. You only stared at her with an unreadable expression for a few moments before you gave in with a roll of your eyes.
Paige walked around the car to the driver’s seat, twisting her keys around her fingers before opening the door and taking a seat. A silence fell between the two of you before you settled on breaking it, knowing too much of it would result in a certain type of tension. You stared at her, the night’s confusion swirling inside you. “You can’t just pretend to be my girlfriend and drag me away like that, Paige. It’s not fair.”
She looked down, her tough exterior cracking. “I know, I’m sorry. I just… I needed to talk to you.” Her voice was softer now, making your anger waver. God, she made it so hard to stay mad.
The sincerity in her tone was enough to make you gold. “You’ve had two weeks to talk to me. Why now?” you asked, trying to keep your frustration in check.
Paige sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I was scared. After what I said, I didn’t know how you’d react, and then I saw you with someone else tonight and… I realized I couldn’t keep avoiding this. Avoiding you,” she explained.
What did that even mean? Paige hadn’t gotten this open or raw with you since you stopped connecting on a friend level and you wondered where this conversation was leading. “So what now?” you asked, your voice losing some of its edge.
She looked up, meeting your gaze with earnest eyes. “I miss you,” she said quietly. You’d never seen her this vulnerable. She was always so composed, so sure of herself. The admission hung in the air, heavy with meaning.
Your heart ached at her words, a mix of longing and frustration battling within you. What did she miss, the sex or you? “I don’t know what you want from me,” you shrugged. Don’t give in.
“Jus’ want you,” she said simply, her eyes searching yours. “I’ve missed you so much. These past two weeks have been hell. Fuck— the past six months.” She was referring to the amount of time she’d shut you out for, and you were baffled that she had noticed. It wasn’t just some dick move of hers done unpurposely because it’s just instinct for her, there was a reason. Don’t give in.
The lick of her lips and the doe of her hooded eyes was enough to break down the last of your defenses. She studied the contemplation within you, glancing down at your bare leg before she slowly moved her hand to it. It’s like you couldn’t control the lean of your body. Paige hesitated for a moment, then closed the distance, her lips meeting yours in a desperate, needy kiss. It was like a dam breaking, all your pent up emotions pouring out in one moment.
You kissed her back, your hands finding their way to her hair, pulling her closer. Paige responded with equal fervor, her hands roaming your back and pulling on your clothes, holding you as if afraid you might disappear. The world outside the car faded away as if one nosey person couldn’t just peek their head in and see two girls making out, but it was the least of your concerns.
The small space of the car seemed to shrink even more as the intensity of your kiss deepened. Without breaking the kiss, you shifted, moving over the center console to straddle Paige’s lap in the driver’s seat. Her hands immediately went to your hips, gripping them tightly as if anchoring herself to you.
Your fingers threaded through her hair, tugging slightly, eliciting a soft moan from her that sent shivers down your spine. The sensation of being so close, feeling her heartbeat against yours, was overwhelming in the best possible way. Paige’s hands roamed up your back and down to your thighs, squeezing them. If there was one thing this girl loved, it was your ass and thighs. She could never get enough of them.
You pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, both of you breathing heavily. Her lips were slightly parted, her eyes barely open as she looked up at you, her chest heaving with the same desire you felt. But there was also a hint of confusion as to why you pulled away. “Paige,” you whispered, your voice full of uncertainty and hunger. “I can’t do this.” You were only breaking your own morals, and as much as you were feening for her right now, you knew you couldn’t keep running laps with her around a never-ending track.
Paige shook her head, licking her lips. Her expression shifted from confusion to concern. “What do you mean?” she asked, her voice was desperate. “Please don’t say that,” her voice was low as she brought one hand up to cradle your face, you immediately leaning into her touch by instinct.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. “I can’t keep going through this with you. I can’t if it’s just going to end the same way every time.”
Her grip on your hips tightened, her eyes pleading. “It won’t. I swear it won’t.” She paused, taking a deep breath as she searched for the right words. You only looked at her as you waited for what she was going to say, biting down on your bottom lip. “I meant it when I said I loved you.” The confession hung heavy in the air, the honesty causing goosebumps to raise to your arms.
You searched her eyes, looking for any sign of doubt or insincerity, but she was serious. “You really mean it?” you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper. It sounded pathetic to ask, but you didn’t care.
Paige nodded, her blue eyes never leaving yours. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life than right now.”
Without another word, you leaned in once more, your lips carefully moving in sync as it quickly went from tender to passionate. Her fingers traced gentle patterns on your skin as if committing every contour to memory as you pressed closer, Paige pulling you in more if that were even possible. Your hands moved down her chest underneath her shirt painfully slow, your fingers dwindling over her abs. You wanted this stupid shirt off.
You shifted slightly, straddling her lap more securely, your legs on either side of her as you deepened the kiss. The feeling of her touch, the warmth of her body pressed against yours, and just knowing how she felt all made you feel more alive than you had in weeks. Her lips moved from your mouth to your jaw, trailing kisses down your neck, making you gasp softly.
“Wanna make you feel good. Okay, baby?” Paige mumbled. You only nodded in response, eager for any type of friction as you moved against her. The only thing standing between more of it was the thin piece of fabric underneath your hoisted up red dress. You were sure you left a mark of your slick on Paige’s cargos.
Pulling away, both of your breathing far from steady, Paige shifted her gaze to the side of her driver chair, reclining it back. Your mouth fell agape slightly as you realized what she wanted to do, and she only chuckled at you— a smirk not leaving her face. She still sat up as she reached for the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head and tossing it into the backseat with ease. Your eyes raked down her body. She then moved to lay back, yourself still in full view as you stayed sat against her in pure shock. Paige Bueckers wanted you to sit on her face in a club parking lot after confessing her love for you.
“Take those off and come up here, ma,” she urged you lowly, her eyes flickering to the bottom half of your body. One of her hands were behind her head and the other placed warmly on your upper thigh, her thumb stroking your skin way too slow as you became warmer by the second. Your breath hitched as you complied, obviously, moving your legs to one side so you could slip the fabric from under you and toss them to the passenger seat.
Paige’s eyes darkened with desire as she watched you. She’d been wanting to do this all night. The moment your underwear left your body, she guided you to straddle her face, her hands gripping your thighs firmly as she pulled you closer. You hesitated for a brief moment, the vulnerability of the position causing a flutter of nerves. You’d done this before— I mean, the first few months were just full of figuring out each other and what you liked and disliked… but in this moment, it felt different. Like a new chapter.
Paige tapped your leg softly in reassurance as she looked up at you, realizing the way you were surveying the situation. “Come here,” she murmured. Everything that came out of her mouth was dripping with craving. She needed to taste you.
You settled over her, your thighs trembling slightly as you positioned yourself. The moment her mouth made contact with you, a gasp escaped your lips, your hands instinctively gripping the back of the seat for support. Paige’s tongue moved with skill like always, her hands guiding your movements as she devoured you.
“Paige,” you moaned out, your voice breathy. “Shit, that feels so good.”
Her grip on your thighs tightened, her fingers practically digging into your skin as she increased the intensity of the way her mouth moved. She mumbled something incoherent as you bucked against her slightly, lost in the feeling as you threw your head back.
The sensations were formidable, a mix of pleasure and intimacy that made your head spin. You could feel every flick and swirl of her tongue, every gentle bite and suck that sent waves of ecstasy through your body. Your breaths came in shallow pants, your moans filling the car.
Paige pulled back slightly, her breath warm against your skin as she murmured, “I wanna hear you say it.”
You shivered at the command, your mind clouded with pleasure and need. “Say what?” you managed to gasp, your voice trembling as you looked down at her, your legs on either side of her face. What a sight.
“I wanna hear you say you love me,” she said, her eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race even faster than it had been.
You said it without having to think about it. “I love you, Paige, shit.” you whispered, your voice filled with emotion as she unexpectedly plunged into you. “So much.” A satisfied smile played on her lips against your throbbing cunt as she resumed her actions. The pleasure intensified as if your words had given her a new determination, each maneuver driving you closer to the edge.
Your body responded to her words and actions, the heat building between you both becoming almost unbearable. You rocked your hips in sync with her movements, your breaths coming in ragged gasps, your moans growing louder. “Paige, I’m so close,” you panted, squeezing your eyes shut so you could off a little longer.
“Look at me,” she demanded. Your eyes shot open, mouth falling open wider. “Let go for me, baby,” she encouraged, and that was all you needed. “Wanna feel you.”
With a cry, you finally let go, the orgasm washing over you in waves that left you breathless and shaking. Paige didn’t stop, her tongue continuing to tease and caress you through the aftershocks until you were too sensitive to take any more. You collapsed forward, your hands braced on the back of the seat as you tried to catch your breath. Paige gently guided you back to straddle her lap, her lips pressing soft kisses to your skin as you came down from your high, your head resting perfectly in the crook of her neck.
After pecking every inch of your face, she leaned in for one on your mouth before you mustered the strength to push her lips away, giggling. “Ew, no!” you exclaimed.
Paige laughed along with you. “I’ll take it then,” she shrugged, licking her lips and swarming her mouth with her tongue dramatically. After the banter, you gently rested your hand on Paige’s chest as you both reveled in the moment. The fogged up windows had came in clutch so no one could see the aftermath of it all, but you pondered on the thought of anyone actually seeing the two of you in action.
“I love you too, by the way,” Paige mumbled. You looked up at her, smiling.
“Yeah, you better.”
973 notes · View notes
aduh0308 · 2 months ago
Text
see if i can help~? [choi yeonjun]
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summary: you were never afraid to talk about anything personal with yeonjun, which was why it wasn't a big deal when you told him you've been having trouble pleasuring yourself lately... it just doesn't feel as good anymore. what you weren't expecting, however, was him offering to help, saying he can make you feel as good as you want to... and why would you say no? genre: b2l, smut (p with like a lil plot), non-idol au warnings: dom!yeonjun x sub!fem!virgin!reader, soft!dom and slight hard!dom yj, cunnilingus, fingering, edging, vaginal penetration, dacryphilia, slight dumbification, unprotected sex, creampie + breeding kink, bulge kink, slight praise kink, hand holding, alcohol consumption, reader hasnt shaved, reference to reader getting off to the thought of him previously, calls her doll and baby, edging, nipple play for a sec, handjob, slight sub!yeonjun, hes a crybaby lol, semi-public sexy time scene, she calls him 'pretty' and 'pretty boy' and 'good boy' word count: 6.3k 🎧 — gentleman (gallant) + jenny (studio killers) + all mine (plaza) + so high school (taylor swift) taglist: @agustdiv1ne @beom-pyu @yxnjvnnie @junsmintchoco @liverspaghett @sayitdido @fairyofshampgyu @tyungelic an: happy bday yj~~ is this the beginning of adas comeback? who knows 🤭 (this is for all y'all waiting for this since july 2023, i sincerely apologize) + thank you so much to @chyuuiung for being such a sweetheart and proofreading for me ❤️
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Your phone rings and you sigh at the obnoxious song your best friend had replaced the default for months ago. You still haven't changed it, but you're not completely sure why. You obviously don't love the song, but you do love your best friend, and you guess it's just because it reminds you of him that you keep it.
And... it's him calling now. You pick up your phone in your palm, swipe the 'accept' button, and hold it up to your ear.
"YN. GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!!!"
You flinch, holding the phone at arms length. Ears ringing, you yell into the speaker, "STOP YELLING JJUN!!"
"YOU'RE YELLING TOO, IDIOT!" You can hear him even from this distance.
"I'LL STOP IF YOU STOP."
"Fine. Truce accepted." Yeonjun sighs into the receiver, pausing for a moment. You're just about to ask why he's calling when he speaks again, like he spaced out for a second and then brought it back. "You still have to come over, though."
You stare at the state of your desk. A deadline for your college assignment is almost upon you, and you've got multiple papers and electronic devices spread out before you. "Why.. Jjunie, I've got so many things I need to do..."
And this time, you should probably ACTUALLY do them instead of having your hand down your pants.
"Yn.. did you forget what day it is?" His voice is quiet, soft but prodding slightly, and you can't help but feel guilty when you check the date. You had forgotten.
It was your 8th friendiversary, the anniversary of the time Yeonjun had decided to talk to the cute girl who was practically in charge of his Lit class. And every day since then he's stuck by you like an actual idiot.
"Yeonjun, I'm really sorry, I- I forgot and I've got a whole lot of stuff I need to do... I don't know if I can make it tonight."
Your heart is tight in your chest and you put a hand in your hair, looking down at your papers.
"One night, Yn. One night is all we need to celebrate, we do this every year, can't you take off 24 hours?" You can hear the plea in his voice, and it makes you take a deep breath.
You close your eyes and think this through. The paper is due in three days, you're more than three quarters done and that took only four days, that leaves enough time to finish and proofread and...
"Fine. Alright. I'm coming. Give me 15 minutes?"
You can almost hear the smile in his voice when he responds. "See you then."
And 15 minutes later, you're there, on his couch and sipping his wine.
"Tell me what you've been up to, Jjunie. Haven't seen you in at least a few weeks," You grin, smiling at him over your glass.
"You know... Work, school, just the usual."
You raise your eyebrows teasingly, then wiggle them. "Any special girls you have your eye on?"
You say it in a joking way, but deep inside, you hope the answer is no. But you're not exactly sure WHY that would be... you've never been opposed to his previous girlfriends before. In fact, you liked most of them.
Yeonjun lowers his gaze to the floor with a shy smile before looking back up at you, and that's the moment you know. "Well... actually... there IS this one girl I've been thinking about recently."
You smile, because that's what you did every time you've had this conversation previously. "Yes? Who is she?"
His cheeks go pink and he waves you away. "No one. I- No one."
Well, that's different. Usually he told you without hesitation, some girl from uni or a coworker or even someone he met online. But now he's being a little suspicious...
You don't push it, though. That was an unspoken rule between the two of you: you don't push the other person to tell you something unless it really, really matters.
"Anyways, what about you? Any boys on your mind?"
You press your lips together and think for a moment. "Ye- No... wait yes, no, no never mind. I wish though."
Yeonjun raises his eyebrows at you and smiles slightly, adjusting his position on the couch next to you to cross one leg over the other. "And how come you wish?"
His movement had brought him a little closer to you, and, much to your confusion, you can feel your heart rate speed up.
You ignore it and mimic his position. "Cause. I've got a little bit of a problem, and sometimes I wish I had someone to help."
"Problem?"
You stifle a giggle and take another sip of your wine. "Of the sexual variety."
"How so?"
Yeonjun's face is devoid of anything uncomfortable, and you shrug. "Getting myself off doesn't feel as good as it used to. I don't know, maybe I just need to switch it up but... whatever, it probably sounds dumb." You laugh awkwardly, rubbing the nape of your neck.
"Do you have any toys you could use?" he asks, and for a moment you think he's making fun of you, but the way he holds your gaze with his is dead serious.
You nod. "I've tried... it didn't work very well. Just felt like one dull thing the entire time. I KNEW that I came, it just didn't feel like it, you know?"
Yeonjun nods. "And you don't have anyone to fuck you?"
The way he says it is so casual it makes your cheeks grow hot. Almost embarrassed at your inability to find a sexual partner, you shake your head. "No." You're not even sure if he knows you're a virgin.
Yeonjun looks down at his drink for a moment, other hand fiddling with the hem of the black tank he's wearing, the one that makes you focus a little too much on his collarbones whenever he wears it. Then he looks back at you, cheeks a little pink.
"Do you... want to, um, see if i can help?" he asks, and you understand why his cheeks were flushed. Your own are hot, and you swallow slightly.
To be fair, it's not like you don't want him to. Your eyes trace the obviously attractive lines of his body and when he catches you looking, his eyes go wide.
He rushes to apologize for his words, but you shake your head quickly. "No, you're good, don't- don't apologize, of course we can, I mean, you're hot and you're offering and I-"
Yeah, you decide to shut your mouth here, which is probably the smartest decision you've ever made, because holy shit, you just told your best friend you think he's hot.
And he noticed. Now he's smirking at you, eyebrows raised and the most cocky look on his face.
To your surprise, he doesn't say anything else, simply moving to a separate position on the couch and spreading your legs slightly. One is off the couch, the other over the back, and it's uncomfortable but not so much that you mind.
Yeonjun's laying between your legs and he looks up at you from beneath his lashes. Your already speeding heart beats even faster at the look he gives you, tongue swiping over his lips just once.
"Tell me if you change your mind?"
Him checking in is sweet, but you can tell you're dripping right now, and prolonging this is only making you more impatient. You give him your most annoyed expression and he laughs, hooking his fingers under the waistband of your jean shorts. Yeonjun tugs them off with one movement and you can feel his torso tense with a short breath.
You almost giggle to yourself at the way his eyes blow out at the visible wet spot in your panties. You slide them off yourself, watching his reaction again to your bare pussy in front of him, a swallow cutting off whatever words he was going to say.
And all of a sudden, you're hit with a wave of insecurities unfamiliar to you, especially unfamiliar around Yeonjun. 'Does my body look weird to him? Will he not like it? Oh shit, I haven't shaved down there in months, what if he backs off because he doesn't like body hair...'
You try to clear your thoughts, focusing on his expression alone. Lips pushed out in a pout, black hair swept out of his face, and his eyebrows furrowed slightly. You bite your own lip and move to close your legs. "Jjun... is it bad?"
His gaze snaps up to yours so fast its unsettling, eyes going wide once more. They narrow slightly as a smirk finds its way to his perfect plump lips. Ah shit, now you were simping for his lips. Again.
"No, not bad at all, just thinking about how long my best friend kept her pretty pussy from me..."
His words leave you speechless, immobile as he pushes your legs apart once more, slender fingers on your now bare thighs making you tremble. Yeonjun just smiles up at you, bottom lip caught between his teeth. "For someone saying she wasn't sensitive enough, you sure do get wet so easily, don't you, n/n?"
"Fuck you, Jjun, it's not usually like this."
You scowl down at him, because it's never like this... you can feel your slick dripping down to your ass. Shit, he's got you all a mess.
But your words are apparently the wrong thing for the situation, because the look on his face is nothing but cocky. "Am I that hot then? Hot enough that I've got you dripping and I haven't even touched you?"
You can't meet his eyes. Because the answer's yes, it's always been yes.
Since you met him that day 8 years ago, you've had at least a minor crush on him. It would wean itself whenever he had girlfriends-- you're not a homewrecker. But it was always there to some extent, presenting itself through hot cheeks at his compliments, racing heartbeats when he got too close.
As of late, though, your little crush presented itself through your hands shoved down your pants at night. You know it's bad, gross, perverted even, but you can't help it. He came over to your house and you listened to music in your bed together? You're laying in the same bed at night, playing the same music, toying with your clit.
You've even gone so far as to spell his name out against your sensitive bud with circles of your fingertip, gasping out "oh fuck, Yeonjun, don't stop..." as you cum.
You absolutely never expected any of that to come close to coming true.
And now, here he is, between your thighs, awaiting your response with an expectant look.
"I...-" You cut yourself off out of need to preserve your self esteem. "Will you shut up and just touch me like you're supposed to?"
Your gaze settles on the ceiling, unable to give another glance to the sight between your legs.
"Jjun, I swear to god, if you don't— oh, fuck!"
Your hand shot out to grab his hair without a single thought— his tongue had found its place between your folds so fast that your thighs jolted together involuntarily.
"I fucking hate you, why would you just start there? You know I'm— fuck— know I'm a, Jjun, stop!— you know I'm a virgin, n-never..."
He barely listens to you, eyes on your pussy, and just laughs. Laughs when your head lolls back against the couch cushion, your legs shaking. Your grip on his hair doesn't cease, it only tightens the more his tongue laves your soaked cunt.
Yeonjun is your opposite— a master at this, you have no idea how many girls he's fucked before, you know you're not his first. But right now, his face between your legs while he absolutely devours you, you couldn't care less.
He knows exactly where to do what, catching your clit between his lips with a hum. Obscene sounds are all you can hear as he laps at your wetness, acting like you're the best thing he's ever tasted.
His hands are gentle on your thighs, pushing them farther apart to taste you even better. They meet your stomach to push you back down when your hips shift up to rut against his face, and the feeling makes your stomach twist in pleasure.
"Pretty doll's so pretty under me, don't worry, I'll make your first time so good, promise.." Yeonjun's tone is a purr against you, and you whine. He only coos, "Awh, baby, did you think I wasn't gonna take care of you? Gonna make you feel so good, like you've never felt before.."
You look down at him, tears filling your waterline. "Jjun, feels good 'lready, don' know if I can take more..."
"I've got you, alright? You can let go for me baby, never gonna hurt you."
Your mind is fuzzy, pleasure rolling up every limb of your body in soft tingly ways— Yeonjun's lips have you a goner so easily it's almost embarrassing. Not gone enough, however, to skip over the fact that his hips are rolling against the cushions in a rhythm not unlike the one he was eating you out with.
"C-can you use your fingers, please?" you gasp, rolling your hips against his face with so much desperation its almost embarrassing.
But the familiar tightening sensation in your stomach is building, and when the finger Yeonjun's nestled between your walls curls in towards your stomach, your walls are fluttering around his single digit.
A broken whine leaves your lips when the sensation is ripped away from you. Yeonjun looks at your shaking form with a look that makes you melt— eyes soft on yours, lips pulled into a small smile. Lips that are connected to your cunt with a single string of your arousal.
"Why'd you stop, was close..." Your dignity is gone by now, and you have no qualms about sounding pouty and needy to him.
"You're not gonna cum around anything other than dick your first, alright? Gonna make it worth your while," he hums, standing and pulling the hem of his black tank over his head.
Your lips form a small o of surprise. It's not like you haven't seen him shirtless before. You have, plenty of times. But fuck, he really isn't that scrawny boy from grade 11 anymore.
Smooth honey-gold skin, ripples of muscles under his skin cause slight shadows on his torso and arms. His shoulders are broad, broader than you've let yourself realize, and you find yourself holding your breath when he slips his thumb under the waistband of his grey sweatpants.
They're low on his hipbones, which are angular and prominent, reminding you of sex. That could also just be the fact that you're in such a deep stage of need that you can't think straight.
In one deft movement, his sweatpants are off and on the floor, and why the fuck was he wearing Calvin Klein underwear? You swallow once, still laying akimbo on his couch, and he looks over at you with a shy smile.
The sheer quiet uncertainty of his expression causes something to possess you to say, "You look hot. Like really fucking sexy. " You chew your lip when he smiles slightly, his ears pink. "I think you should fuck me now."
Yeonjun laughs out loud at that. "I'm not even naked yet, you're so impatient.."
"Please?"
"Fine..." He moves to tug his boxers off, and you could slap yourself at the little involuntary noise your throat makes.
Oh.
Now you understand why he only laughed at all the jokes you've made about him being small.
He's definitely not small— bigger than average, with a very slight upward curve and a prominent vein winding its way up the underside. His tip is flushed the pink of his lips, leaking dribbles of precum down the side of his shaft.
No wonder he pulls.
His eyes meet yours, he lets out a quiet giggle at your slack jaw. "Is it okay, then?"
You nod once, calm yourself, and whisper, "I don't think it's gonna fit."
"Told you I'll take care of you, won't hurt you, I promise."
Yeonjun joins you on the couch once more and you can't resist anymore. Pressing a desperate kiss to his lips and pulling him closer by the smooth of his shoulders, you can feel him smile against your lips. His are soft and plush and feel like heaven. It's not like you haven't kissed him before— you were 20 and lonely and it was a particularly rough night, not a great combo.
But this is different.
His mouth is warm and inviting, his hands gripping your arms to pull you closer, and you let out a soft whimper when he draws you into his lap. His dick is pressed right against your clit, unbearably tempting and you mumble, "Please, Jjun, need you..."
Yeonjun holds you with almost uncharacteristic sweetness as he moves you under him, and you press your face to his neck, leaving soft kisses to his moles.
His tip grows your entrance and he lets out a soft moan, first erotic noise of the night, and a noise that sends you reeling. Pushing past the tight rim of muscle, he pauses to allow you to get adjusted.
Yeonjun rolls his hips against yours, never letting more than an inch of him inside you for fear of hurting you, and you cling to him, because holy fuck, this was not what you expected.
Fucking your best friend is an interesting experience.
Legs wrapped around his back trying to pull him closer, he only smiles, laughing at your needy whines.
"N-need, please, Jjun, can take you, promise..." Teary eyes meet his hooded gaze as your babbles are met with silence. He presses a kiss to your neck to quiet you, cockhead repeatedly pushing itself inside your gummy walls while you beg underneath him. His thumb presses against your clit and the touch is some relief— but little.
He tsks in your ear moments later, "Need to prep you baby, alright? Gotta get you ready for your first time, 'specially since it's with me, don't wanna ruin this pretty pussy just yet..~"
Yeonjun loves the way you writhe underneath him, trying to force your hips closer to his. It makes his own reserved pleasure that much better.
Your shirt is hiked up from the friction between you two, and he pulls the soft fabric up all the way, practically drooling at the sight of your tits. "Such a pretty body, doll, can't believe no one's gotten to take you yet, 'm lucky it's me.."
You can only nod quickly, gripping his forearm for some sort of grounding sensation, because you can feel the drag of his cock along your walls and it's fucking glorious.
"Jjunie, please, can take you, can take it, I'll be so good for you, take it all, I promise..!"
Your head rocked back, Yeonjun smiles softly, pressing his forehead to yours. "Don't wanna hurt you, too pretty, don't wanna make you cry," he mumbles.
You shake your head hard. "Won't hurt me, can do it, can do it, please."
You watch him wrestle with this mentally, and notice the exact moment he loses it all.
Kissing you hard, tongue meeting yours and taking your breath away, his hips inch closer and closer to yours until your skin is against his. His body is warm against yours, and there's a slight tremor in him that throws you off a little.
Yeonjun's not faring well with you around him. He knew you were going to feel like fucking heaven when he was inside you for the first time, but he needed to seriously work if he wanted to give you more than the five minute fuck his body was going to currently allow him.
When his body is finally pressed flush to you, your mouth drops open in a silent scream. He feels even better than you imagined— filling you up in all the right way like he's the fucking last piece in a jigsaw puzzle. He presses a kiss to your cheek with a pout, eyes wide and concerned. "'s it too much? Please tell me, baby, only wanna make you feel good."
"Feels so good, Jjun, so full, filling me so good..." You manage a cocky smile through the sheer pleasure running through your video. "Told you I could take it..."
Yeonjun huffs out a small breath of laugh, face in your neck, and sucks a purpling hickey onto your skin. "Not even moving yet, want me to?"
"Yes please, need you so bad, needed this for so long..." you mumble out, cheeks going hot.
His face flushes adorably, hips rutting against yours with a newfound desperation you hadn't expected. "Can feel how much you need me," he grins. His pace is faster now, quarter notes compared to the half notes from previous. "Can you feel how much I need you?"
You can. Can feel him trembling above you, sweat sticking his hair to his forehead, tears wetting his lashes at the pure feeling of your cunt clamped down around him.
Your staccato gasps of "oh— oh— oh—" are music to his ears, and Yeonjun makes it a silent mission to hear absolutely every noise you're capable of making.
The head of his cock finds the spongey spot inside you with ease, and the squeak that falls from your lips sends him reeling. The first few tears slip down your cheeks when he abuses that spot over and over, and when he notices, Yeonjun has to look away. Pretty best friend, fucked out on his cock, crying for him... He holds your hand with a gentleness so unexpected you whimper, and he smiles again, kissing up your neck.
"Jjun, need, more— oh fuck— need more, s' close, please, give me?"
The look on your face decides for him, so pure and innocent, and he's fucking into you at a pace so animalistic you're practically screaming, mouth perpetually hung open.
The high that throws itself over you is so intense that you hit it with a noise thats almost a yelp, shaking under Yeonjun. He holds you close, balls deep in you, fingertips on your clit spelling out over and over again something you realize to be his name.
It seems to last forever, as if you're frozen in time itself, alone with Yeonjun's sweet scent winding itself around you.
With a jolt, you're back, pressing a hand to your stomach, where you can feel a small bulge under your fingertips. "Oh shit."
"What?"
He freezes, and Yeonjun's tone is panicked, and he looks down at you with such pure worry, like he's afraid after your peak that you've suddenly realized you made a mistake.
"Feel," you hum, taking his hand in yours once more and pressing it to your stomach, palm down. "Can feel you."
Yeonjun's eyes go wide and he sucks in a breath so sharp you can hear it. He presses his hand even harder against you before quickly yanking it away. "Can't think about that too much, gon' cum too quickly..."
Too quickly? He's been fucking you for 10 minutes, and he's worried about cumming too soon?
"Can.. Can you make me cum again?" You whisper, cheeks hot again, embarrassment winding up every limb in your body. "Never felt like that before..."
Your best friend looks down at you with such endearment in his eyes that your current position is almost funny. "I'll make you feel even better, promise."
His hips meet yours with a new frequency, faster and harder than before, and once again, you're reduced to a mess of babbles and whines under him.
Your head grows fuzzy, only focusing on the repeated action of his dick inside your pussy. Which sounds simple, but it was genuinely perhaps the best thing you've ever felt.
His breathing heavy, Yeonjun is focused fully on your body and the pleasure his ministrations are causing. A small smirk toys with the corners of his lips as you look up at him, mewling, eyes glassy with tears.
"Yeah? Feel good, doll?"
You nod again, swallowing hard, and he sighs out a laugh. "Looking so pretty under me, glad I'm making you feel good, making your first so good, aren't I?"
His pants paint the skin of your neck and make you tingle deliciously, the idea that you're managing to make this beautiful boy feel just as good as he's making you feel.
You tighten desperately around him with every action, and when you do, looking up at him, you can see Yeonjun's losing himself just a little. His eyebrows are furrowed like he's holding back, lips pursed out in a pout more focused than annoyed, and you grip his wrist with a choked noise when his slightly calloused fingertips meet your clit once more.
"'m so sorry, baby, can't do 't anymore, pretty pussy's taking me so good... gon' take you with me, alright?"
You can only smile up at him through your pleasure-induced tears. "Go ahead, can take it, take you s' good.."
Yeonjun's otherwise perfect thrusts fade to imperfection as he nears his high, writing his name on your clit once more, over and over, like he's claiming you as his. His whole body is covered in a sheen of sweat, like he's glowing from within. "Yeah? Gon' be a good girl 'nd take all of me?"
"Can do it, can take you, wan' it s' bad.." you're slurring your words at this point, grabbing onto him out of desperation to keep yourself grounded in reality.
His pelvis ruts into you so hard you gasp, second high somehow even better than the first, and you're left out of body until the feeling of his warm cum painting your insides brings you crashing back down.
Yeonjun's shaking above you, and you chase his lips to press a consoling kiss to them, carding a hand through his hair as he calms down.
Rolling off of you, he takes a moment to catch his breath, eyes locked on his cum dripping out of your abused cunt. His gaze flicks up to meet yours a second later, and he smiles to himself at the fucked out look on your face. Thank god he did you right.
He gets a phone call moments later, and sits to answer it with an apologetic look at you. "Yes?" His tone is devoid of feeling, but softens when he hears the voice on the other end. "Yes, it's all right, I'll be over later, 'kay?"
He hangs up after a moment and looks at you with a tentative look, waiting for something from you. When he doesn't get it, he says, "You can, um, use my shower, if you want?"
As you look at him, the weight of everything that just happened crashes down on you. Oh shit. You just fucked your best friend. You fucking lost your virginity to your best friend. You just let him cum inside you. You're fucked. Literally. And then he was on the call with someone else, some other girl, and this is probably the worst situation you've gotten yourself into
You sit abruptly, avoiding his eyes. "I have to go."
Yeonjun's expression is nothing short of confusion and hurt when you stumble, off balance, to pull on your underwear and shorts once more. "Baby, what's wrong?"
Not the fucking pet name. Not again.
You shake your head. "I have to go. This was a bad idea."
And without another word, you're walking out his door.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
You avoid him as best you can, but it isn't easy when he's so desperate for some sort of answer from you. 10 missed calls and 17 texts later, you find yourself back in the same room as him, much to your chagrin.
It wasn't on purpose! Your friends had decided that your monthly hang out was happening a week earlier than usual this time, and inside Taehyun's living room, you sit as far from Yeonjun as you possibly can.
Dinner is already torture, but after?
You avoid eye contact with him, avoid talking to him, hell, you avoid looking at him at all. Sitting between Beomgyu and Kai, Yeonjun's on Beomgyu's left, perfectly out of your eye line.
You and Kai yapping about Animal Crossing, you can feel Yeonjun's eyes on you, and you try your hardest to act normal. It's hard enough to be able to smell him in the room, soft and subtle but so unbearably there.
You excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, and you hold your head in your hands, hip leaned against the counter.
Maybe you're being overdramatic. It's not that big of a deal to lose your virginity to someone who you've known for 8 years. You're sure it's happened to someone before. It's normal! It's just sex, after all, you don't have real feelings for him, definitely not.
But he's just dyed his hair red, and the thoughts running through your head are not friendly ones at all.
You feel insane. You shouldn't be simping after someone who you've known for so long. It would ruin everything between the two of you, wouldn't it?
You move to turn on the faucet. Washing your hands for no other reason but hope to get rid of the feeling of Yeonjun on your skin, you dry them on one of the hanging towels and open the bathroom door.
Oh, fuck this.
Yeonjun stands right outside the door, leaning against the wall, and when it opens, he straightens up to look at you. "Yn.. can we talk? Please? I-I need you to tell me what I did."
Something in his eyes makes your heart break in two. He looks so confused, so unaware of exactly how you feel, and you run a hand over your hair. "Jjun. You've been my best friend. For eight years. And I let you take my fucking virginity. What do you think you did?"
"Did I not fuck you good?" His voice is small, tentative, and you sigh in frustration.
"No, you fucked me just fine."
"Then what's the problem?"
"That's the problem, Jjun. I let you fuck me because I've wanted this for years, and it was a mistake. I don't want to lose my best friend because I told you I couldn't get myself off."
He runs a hand through his newly-red hair and visibly collects his thoughts. After a moment, Yeonjun says, "Do you not like me?"
"What?"
"You heard me."
His cheeks are red, and there are tears beading in his water line, making his eyes sparkle. You purse your lips out in confusion, and he continues.
"Do you think I'd fuck you if I didn't have feelings for you? Do you really think I'm that much of a whore?" His voice is quiet, searching, and you're genuinely surprised. "Did you even think about the fact that I didn't tell you who I was into? Because it's you, dummy. I volunteered to take your virginity because I've been wanting to be the one who gets to do that since that day you kissed Taehyun. And I realized that I didn't want you to be with anyone other than me."
He rubs the nape of his neck with a small smile through the tears in his eyes. "It's selfish, probably. Isn't it? To want to be the only one for you?"
Your eyes are blown out wide, lips parted in surprise. "What the fuck?! Why didn't you tell me before you fucked me? Or during? Hell, even after instead of making me feel fucking crazy for liking you?"
"You didn't say anything, did you?" Yeonjun smiles slightly.
You press your lips together. "You offered in the first place! I didn't have to say anything."
"Fine. I'll say it now. I like you. I want you. I've thought about you at 2am every night for the past 2 years. I fucked you because I want to date you."
His eyes have a softness to them, akin to the way he looked at you when you were under him, and you don't have the words to respond.
You're pressed up against him in seconds, arms around his waist, lips on his with such urgency that you feel him laugh against you. Yeonjun kisses you back with the same pure passion, hands finding their way to cup your cheeks, and suddenly it feels like all is right with the world.
The atmosphere in the room is soft, intimate almost, when you find yourself on Taehyun's guest bed with a giggle. "You're so pretty, fuck.." you exhale, laughing when he grips the plush of your thighs to pull you closer.
You're positioned on top of him, heart going fast, and you're half subconsciously running your hand up and under his shirt.
He lets out a pretty gasp of a moan when you pinch at his nipple. "Don't, can't fuck with them out there, never gon' hear the end of it..."
The tears from before are finally slipping down his cheeks, and you press a kiss to his cheek to stop them from rolling off his chin. "Won't fuck you, but let me get you off, please? Wan' show you how much you mean to me.."
A soft exhale slips past his lips when you settle behind him, legs looped around his. Your head rests on his shoulder— you can hear his heartbeat through the cotton of his oversized shirt when you run your hand over the front of his pants. You tug the waistband of the loose athletic shorts down slowly, watching his every reaction with a soft smile on your face, and oh, the way the corners of his lips turn up so prettily when you run a soft hand over the entirety of his length.
"Always loved you, did you know?" you mumble, finally tugging him out of his pants with a whine from him.
"Didn' know, wish I did, woulda— fuck, s-slow down— woulda fucked you soon-ner..."
"Shush pretty, don't want them to hear, you can't be quiet 'nough, can you?"
He shakes against you when you slide your fist up his dick again, faster with each repetition, head hanging to his chest as he accepts what you give him, rendered putty beneath your hands. Yeonjun's noises are choked, slipping past the restraints of his lips no matter how much he tries otherwise. His head rocks all the way back when you speed up, and the sight of his collarbones on display has you reeling, wanting to give him everything he deserves and more.
"Doing so good for me, pretty boy, aren't you? So pretty with your new hair, did you do it for me?" humming against his neck while you suck dark hickeys, just high enough above his neckline for them to be visible. He just nods, gripping your free hand in his, and you look down at his dick in your hand with a smile.
Tip peeking through your fingers every time the side of your hand meets his pelvis, you notice a small birthmark on his pubic line and make note of it with a grin. His soft whines meet your ear like a melody from angels. "M— 'm so close, don't stop, don't stop, n/n, please!"
Yeonjun's small cry as he reaches his peak wrenches through your body as if he's touching you, and you let go of his hand and hold up his shirt to keep him from making a mess of it. "There we go, so pretty, what a good boy, love you..." You jerk off his softening cock, milking him completely, and only when his overstimulated mewls reach your ears do you stop.
The boy in front of you is a mess, sweat making his neck shiny, cum painting his tummy in ropes of white, tears streaking his cheeks, lips swollen from the tug of his teeth. But he looks so pretty, eyes glazed, a pleasured smile tugging at his lips as he looks at you.
"Love you too, s' glad you love me back."
You're leaning your forehead to his, going in for a sweet kiss, when you hear, "Guys, where'd yn and Yeonjun go?" from the hallway.
All in a frenzy, you jump up, tripping over your feet on your way to grab something to wipe Yeonjun clean, and you get to him just in time for the door to open.
Soobin stands there with his eyebrows raised, looking at the two of you on the bed, Yeonjun's hot cheeks, and the rag in your hand. He slaps a hand over his mouth before turning on his heel. "Found them!"
"Fucking hell," you mutter, straightening your own clothes while Yeonjun stands on shaky legs, tugging you into his arms.
"Doesn't matter, they were all bound to find out, was too loud anyways..." he smiles, nuzzling your neck, then drags you out and to the others.
Soobin's actively whispering in the ear of Beomgyu when the two of you walk in, and Taehyun shoots an annoyed look your way.
"My guest bed? Really?"
Yeonjun shrugs, checks the time, and grabs your hand again. You're still not used to this sensation— his hand is warm and soft, fingertips slightly calloused, and it fits perfectly with yours, like he was made for you. The thought makes you dizzy.
"This was fun, guys, but we have somewhere to be..." Yeonjun's saying to the others when you tune back in to reality. You gape up at him, but he just smirks down at you.
"In each others pants, most likely," Beomgyu mutters under his breath, and you roll your eyes.
But Yeonjun only winks, pulling you behind him out of the house and into his car, mumbling something about how he'll get yours later, and before you know it, this time you're in his bed.
Yeah, you're not getting any sleep tonight.
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jeon-ify · 9 months ago
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- 𝘫𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘰 - 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 ! ⋆·˚ ༘ *
synopsis: in which the way you look after showering gets your husband worked up.
genre: romance, smut, 18+. mdni.
warnings: dilf yunho!!!!!! yunho is in his late 30s-early 40s here, nudity implied, kitchen sex, swearing, breast play, making out, female reader, big!dick yunho, hand kink, finger sucking (yunho AND reader!!) tit sucking, cervix fucking, choking kink, breeding kink, if i missed anything let me know ! :3
song for the chapter : into it - chase atlantic
happy reading !
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the coconut and lime scent of your conditioner floods the first floor of your home, sending your husband into a faint distraction. the scent runs up his nostrils, up to his brain, and straight down his cock. the music you’re playing blares through your phone in the shower, your husband hearing it through to the second floor.
“I BEEN CATCHIN’ PLANES FOR THE FUN OF IT,”
you sing out extra loud, your husband pausing his speech to apologize for the background noise.
you took an everything shower today, so you already made dinner before showering— considering you’d be exhausted.
somehow, yunho put the pieces together, finishing dinner and making it the right way. you didn’t expect yunho to be so generous tonight— but here you are, standing over the stove and nibbling little pieces of the food while you waited for yunho to finish from a call he was wrapped up in.
you looked around the kitchen out of boredom, looking for things to do before you dived into the food. the way yunho’s shirt sat so pretty onto your body, riding up your thighs as your pink panties peak through the ends of the tee made your man so painfully distracted— holding himself back from fucking you over the piping hot stove.
yunho watched how the ends of your hair weren’t fully dried and how it dripped onto the back of your calves, dripping down your shiny legs. he also watched how your— his— tshirt rode up your legs anytime you reached up somewhere or bent to get something. his eyes did not leave your body.
you were still stood over the stovetop, taking little bites of the greens. you moan in how good the food is, a blend of paprika and garlic seasoning, along with the sweetness of the teriyaki sauce that yunho drizzled everywhere.
but even through the layers of seasonings he put into the food, your scent still broke through it all.
“yeah, sounds good. i’ll put in the CRA request like we mentioned previously, and i’ll email you the forums. just let me know when you need it. was there anything else i could assist you with today, mr. song?” the man on the computer responds and the call comes to an end.
you stare at how attractive he is when he’s working— all the business talk that made no fucking sense to you, but he understands it like his own language, and that in itself makes you weak.
“doll, what do you have on? it smells good.” he finally decides to speak after what felt like hours of him admiring from behind his computer screen.
a much older man admiring your hygiene is something you never thought you’d see, but yunho was drooling on the laptop beneath his fingertips.
“it’s your favorite lotion,” you look up at him through damp eyelashes and flushed cheeks, watching how his nostrils flare with every breath he takes.
it takes yunho everything in his body to not pick you up and throw you over the counter and pound a baby into your small belly. he’s much older than you are, but when he met you, he knew you’d be his companion.
“yu, this smells really yummy. you did a great job, baby.” you walk over to yunho on the other end of the table, wrapping your arms around his shoulders from behind him. he holds onto your hands and throws his head back onto your stomach, looking up at you.
“sweets, the last thing on my mind is dinner. let me taste you, little girl,” his soft and mature voice makes your legs quiver with excitement as yunho takes your hands in his, bringing your middle and ring finger to his mouth, sucking on the digits. you gasp in response, watching how desperate the middle aged man underneath your touch grows weak at your feet.
“i can never get enough of you. wanna fuck you all day.” he stands up to face you, bringing his lips to yours. he sucks and nibs at your bottom lip to gain quicker access to explore the rest of your mouth. you deepen the kiss, the faint taste of cigarettes cloud your small mouth, making you whimper in desperation. he slides a hand between your thighs, thumb rubbing against your clit. you’re not sure if your juices make a patch on your panties or if its from your shower. nonetheless, you are so fucking turned on right now that the last thing on your mind is dinner.
“what have you done to me, pretty girl?” he feels as though you’ve casted a spell on him. everything you do makes him feral; weak in the knees. but somehow, you make him a man.
“i’m just here, yunho. don’t give me all the credit,” you gasp at the feeling of his long fingers pushing into your tight wet cunt. he gasps in sarcasm, exploring your face as he uses your cunt to soak his fingers— bringing them up to your mouth.
you feel his fingers curl into a ‘come here’ motion, your breath hitching as he pushes against your walls. your eyes roll, grasping his forearm as he speeds up his motions. you cry out and beg for him to slow down, but he doesn’t listen.
“so pretty. look at these lips, let me kiss them.” he brings his lips to yours in an open mouthed makeout, gasping for air as he pulls away with a deep-dimpled smirk. your pussy convulses around his long fingers, as your husband groans in response.
your thighs clamp shut in an attempt to calm yourself down from how aggressively his fingers ruthlessly ravish your cunt. yunho, reaching your cervix from how long his fingers are, takes in a deep breath at how fast he’s been moving. “yu- ohh— fuck! please— i’m cumming, please i’m gonna cum!” you chant begs along with his name as if it were a mantra, feeling the way his hard cock presses into your backside.
“yeah, feels good, doesn’t it, baby? now let me feel you cum on my cock.” he brings his fingers up to his mouth, sucking himself dry of your juices. you whimper in need of him inside of you. he lines himself up with your entrance as you’re bent over the counter across from the stove.
he pushes into your soaked pussy deeper, feeling his dick throb ruthlessly inside of you already. lucky for him, he was able to hold himself for almost half an hour on end while he fucks you.
“s-sir, it’s so big! i don’t think i can take y-“ you pull away from his length, feeling like you’re being ripped in half by what feels like 12 inches. he runs his hand along your back from underneath the t-shirt, in an attempt to calm you down and keep you around him.
“tiny girl, you can take me. you’ve let me fuck my cum into you hundreds of times. what’s changed, dollface?” he almost makes you cum from his voice in itself, but you decide to push back while he stays still, waiting for you to adjust to his size for what feels like the millionth time throughout your relationship.
he begins pounding into you at a quicker pace, pulling and tugging at your bare nipples from underneath you. your mouth hangs open as yunho brings his large hand to your throat to wrap itself around it. you grit through your teeth, wishing you could just cum.
you don’t feel like you want to cum, you feel like you’re going to squirt all over his body. “talk to me, baby. what’s it feel like?”
he’s being so fucking annoying and making you focus on anything else other than your orgasm, but you only moan and cry in response.
“i— ‘s too much.” whimpering and shaking in a headlock, you grasp onto yunho’s arm to get a breath of air. from the way his muscular arm wraps itself around your throat makes you cum over, and over already.
yunho gets another quick scent of your lotion and conditioner, making his cock twitch in your cervix.
“i’m almost done baby, give me another one— fuck, you smell so good. the fuck are you doing to me, baby?”
he pounds into you again, harder this time— tugging at your panties to pull you back onto his hips, planting himself deeper in you.
“nngh, oh my god!”
“oh, but i’m the one making you cry like this. give it to me, fucking milk me dry. gonna spill all my cum into your tiny stomach. let me give you my babies, hm? how’s that sound?”
he bends over so his chest is against your back as he nips at your ear. his tongue licks up your tears, planting a kiss on the end of your right eyebrow. his thrusts slow down as he holds you in place to shoot his load right into your baby maker.
“oh my— fuck! yes, so good!”
you cry out in relief that you finally got to spill out your cum onto yunho’s still cock. he lands a sharp slap on your ass before pulling you back up and planting a kiss on your forehead.
“so pretty when you cry for me. should keep a picture in my wallet.”
yunho gets down on his knees before you, licking up your thighs where your juices dried. your fingers run through his pretty softly gelled black hair.
he licks up all of your juices near your heat, using his fingers to push back the cum that threatens to drip from your pussy. your eyes roll to the back of your head as yunho places a kiss on your lower stomach, traveling up beneath your shirt to suck a generous amount of skin on your tit.
“yun— you’re sucking too hard, fuck!” he sucks and bites your nipples as if you were his lifeline,
he slaps the area he sucked on, making you gasp out in surprise. “keep my cum in you until after dinner, i’ll fuck more into you.”
so you sat at the other end of the table with your thighs clenching and unable to think about anything other than your husband pounding a shit ton of babies into you.
————————
🌷🤍🎀
well? dilfyunho anyone?????
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tittiesnhrtz · 1 month ago
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hi hiiii idk if you’re still doing reqs 😭 if sooooo can you write ab eating ellie out while she’s on the phone 😞🙏
my apologies if this doesn't hit 😻
warnings: oral, public sex
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ellie was on her iphone ten again, the poor thing adorned with spiderweb like patterns, having endured more tough days then you’ve ever seen. the light bouncing from it illuminated her face, highlighting the freckles dotted across her cheeks like the cherry blossoms scattered on the streets of the foreign city you both were meandering through.
this was supposed to be a family trip but of course your parents had to wind up in a work related meeting, leaving you with unused plane tickets and hotel reservations. you couldn’t let their money go to waste, so you asked your girlfriend to tag along. if you knew she’d be on that device ever since you both arrived this morning, you’d have cancelled the trip altogether. “just tendin to a niche game, babe. give me ten minutes.” ten minutes stretched into an excruciating five hours and thirty four minutes. not that you were keeping track. not that you were borderline desperate for her attention. not at all.
you cling onto her like a koala, encircling your arms around her torso, seeking for any sort of attention she can offer, even if it’s something as meagre as the faint sound of her heartbeat responding to your touch. “ellie.” you whine out her name, a pout painting itself on your face. in any other situation, she’d be a horny mess, yearning for more of those pretty sounds falling off your lips, but there was a seasonal event going on and she needed to collect all the weapons. “yeah?” she looks up for three milliseconds, “i’m kinda hungry, let’s go eat.” she intertwines your hand with her calloused one, the coldness radiating from her skin blending with your warmth, making you satisfied for now.
“whaddya wanna eat?” your eyes dart around at the cafés and restaurants passing by, lingering on a certain cat themed cafe. “ellie, look.” you beam, nudging her to shift her gaze at the cafe. “eh.” is all that leaves her mouth. “but you love cats.” your eyebrows furrow. “cause you love em.” you know that’s not true. she’d literally adopted a cat with sleek ginger fur from a sordid alleyway even though you’d warned her about the diseases it could carry. she ended up naming him ‘bricked up monstertruck pussy’ or ‘bump’ when she got tired of calling him by his full name. just when your mouth parts open to speak again, she pockets her phone with her other hand, her thumb caressing the back of your hand. fucking finally. you almost break out into a wide grin, biting on your lip to conceal the desperation that previously resided in you.
“babe, we have to go there.” she starts leading you to a sci-fi cafe, her battered converse moving with enthusiasm. a sound mimicking an airlock opening echoes when ellie steps inside with you in tow. “that’s so cool.” she giggles. the cafe is dimly lit with metallic blue lights, the high ceiling painted with an array of alien stars and galaxies. you slip into a booth at the far end, taking a seat opposite of ellie.
the waiter takes your orders; ellie gets a drink with syllables you can’t even decipher and a burger. you decide on a strawberry milkshake, something basic, and the same burger she chose. “that’s so you.” her face splits into a lopsided grin. “what does that mean?” you play with your bracelet, relishing the feeling of her eyes on you. “dunno…like, you’re sweet..like strawberries.” a smile lingers on your lips, nearly making you forget how she’d been technically ignoring you, until you hear the faint buzz of her phone— a fatuous theme song from a movie blaring as her ringtone.
she has the audacity to hum to the rhythm before picking it up to answer jesse. she rambles on about how she’d managed to beat six levels in just twenty minutes, an obvious lie. you know better, you’d been the one suffering all day. five minutes slip by, fleeting like the rocket in the hologram video flickering on the wall. you’ve had enough, you decide.
you sneak under the table, the tablecloth shiny with neon green glitter concealing you almost completely. she’s manspreading on the couch, giving you easy access to settle between her legs. she doesn’t notice you’ve moved until she feels two hands resting on both of her thighs. you let out a small giggle as she looks down at your head peering through the tablecloth, surprise etching on her face. her breath hitches at the sensation of your cheek resting against her thigh, the rasp of denim against flesh. she secures your chin in the palm of her calloused hand to make you look up at her dilated pupils, green eyes taking on an inky darkness. it feels sinful to be looking at you in this angle. even in the dim light, she can make out your doe eyed expression, and her boxers suddenly feel uncomfortable.
jesse’s voice fades away into the background, his words ringing through the other line but not quite making it into her ear. swiftly, you unbuckle her belt and tug on her jeans, the denim whispering down her thighs. you don’t care that you’re in public, the lighting, the very few people and the fact that you’re in the far end of the cafe should obscure whatever you’re about to do. her grasp on your chin releases and her fingers tangle in your locks as she leans back against the couch. with bated breath, she watches your head settle in between her thighs, stifling a moan when you kitten lick at the damp cotton. her hand clenches at your roots, “atta girl.” she mumbles incoherently.
“el, you there?” you pull back, hearing the faint sound of jesse’s voice. you pat her thigh, “answer him.” your fingers hook into the waistband of her boxers, pulling them down to join her jeans. the cool air dances along her warm exposed skin, as the plush of your lips pucker around her throbbing, swollen clit.
“mngh..y-yeah, yeah.” she grunts, pushing your face further, making you bask in her nectar. your fingers glide against her thighs languidly, as your whimpers get muffled against her core. this feels like an atonement of some sort, the attention you’ve been craving so badly, now all yours. you look up at her through your eyelashes, taking in how she’s biting on the palm of the hand that’s holding her phone to hold back the noises threatening to cascade.
“uhm, ellie..you okay?” she barely registers his confused voice over the feeling of your tongue sliding up and down her folds, making her eyes flutter shut. her juices flow down your chin and onto the leather couch below, as you close your eyes too, messily swirling your tongue in circles around her clit now. jesse repeats his question and she brings the phone closer to her again, “dude, i’ll call you lat- fuck.” her words get cut off by a moan at the sudden intrusion of your warm muscle thrusting inside her weeping cunt.
the phone falls from her grasp, landing somewhere on the ground with a soft thud, probably adding a new crack amongst the ones already marring the screen. she doesn’t even care, her mind clouded with pure bliss. both of her hands card through your hair, feeling the softness of it against her roughness. her forehead rests against the table, back hunching as she quietly whimpers, her thighs closing around your head. the moan you let out reverberates through her body, teetering her to the edge. you spread her pussy lips wider with your fingers, gliding your tongue up and down again.
“gonna…fuck..i’m gonna..” she mumbles against the fabric of the tablecloth, tugging on your hair gently. one of her hand moves to rest on the nape of your neck when she comes, seeing the whole of orion belt as her eyes roll to the back of her head. she lets out a throaty breath as she no longer feels your mouth on her core. lifting her head up from the table, she pulls her boxers up the first thing. she tilts your head up and lets out a moan at the sight of your chin glistening with her juices, not even bothering to lower her voice. the pad of her thumb runs along your slightly parted lips before lingering on the bottom one. she leans down to plant a velvety kiss on your forehead, clamping your cheeks together. “you’re so fucking paying for this when we get back to the hotel room.”
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wosofutbolfan · 1 month ago
Text
Remember, Remember
Alexia Putellas x Explorer!R
Sometimes being in a relationship with someone from a different culture can be hard, but so worth it.
3rd part in the Explorer! Verse. Pt 1 and Pt 2 can be found here.
Fluff. 10k.
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We're officially in October and the leaves are crunchy so we're here for the Autumnal vibes. Again, this is a complete vanity piece, and may only make sense to those Brits out there but should be readable to everyone. For those who don't know what Bonfire Night is, good ol' wiki can help, here.
People wanted more of the team involved so this is my attempt at that!
I'm trying to get into my short fluff era but here we are 10k words later. Honestly, those people who can write short, snappy pieces, take a bow.
3rd part in the Explorer! Verse. Pt 1 and Pt 2 can be found here. Again, all can be read alone but are better together.
For those interested, this is the song playing in my head when I wrote this. Did I mention my dreadful taste in music? James Blunt is king.
You threw another log on the fire and with a sigh, moved back and settled more deeply into the rattan furniture you were sitting on. You lay your head back and take in the stars scattered on a blanket of darkness above you, smoke plume rising gently and disappearing into the inky abyss.
With the crackle of the fire being the only soundtrack to your evening, you noted the changing of the season in the crunching of the leaves on the patio, and the lack of cicadas chirping which had become the soundtrack to your new life in Barna.
It had been a few months since your accident.
You called it an accident.
Alexia called it an inevitability.
She hadn’t quite shook off her anger whenever reminded of what happened. She would turn quiet and mutter in fast-catalan to herself, something you learnt she would only do if she was really annoyed and didn’t want you to understand her; “neu estúpida, que fins i tot necessita veure tanta neu de totes maneres”.
But you had learnt the best thing to do in these situations would be to bundle her into your chest and give her your previously injured hand which she seemed to find comfort in massaging, as though reminding herself that there was blood running through the veins.
You’d apologise, and you’d thank her over and over again.
You knew she was never angry, she was scared.
But, you’d both worked through her fear and your trauma, you’d mended physically and mentally. Both going to therapy, surprisingly, after Alexia has insisted on it.
The usually stern captain was a massive advocate of the counseling, finding it helped her during her injuries and time away from the pitch.
You needed more convincing, talking to strangers about feelings did not come naturally to your keep calm and carry on attitude. 
You were much more inclined to put on Paddington 2, lay on Alexia's lap whilst she played with your hair and pretended that she didn't know you were crying.
But after one-too-many nights waking up with a start after feeling trapped by your blankets, or on one bad occasion, shoving your girlfriend out of bed when her arm slung across your stomach had felt like a vice suffocating you, you had agreed. 
For her.  
You’d do anything for her.
You knew Alexia was relieved, with the shadows disappearing from your eyes. She told you that you had your spark back.
You think she was just happy she didn’t have to keep being the small spoon. 
She did miss Paddington 2 though. She loved that damn bear.
You both found your rhythm. And you settled into domesticity that you never expected to adore so much until you met the blonde and you know… almost died.
Alexia looked at you every day like she couldn’t believe you were standing in her kitchen, or settled onto her couch when she returned from training.
It melted your heart every time that look was directed your way, and it tugged on your heart strings when you imagined her coming home to an empty house when you were on an expedition, worried about if you were dead or alive.
You swore to yourself that you would never let that image become a reality again.
But.
You had itchy feet. Naturally. You hadn’t changed that fundamentally as a person, and you knew a jobless, housewife in a high-rise city centre apartment you were not.
So, one day, you had sat Alexia down and held her hands in yours, and told her you needed a job.
“You do not need a job mi amor! I look after us, and you stay safe, I like it. me gusta cuidarte.” she’d proudly exclaimed, practically puffing her chest out like a caveman. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at her.
“Of course I need a job, love. I am not making a life of walking around Barna, watching football games and being a beach bum.”
“I like your beach bum.” she’d retorted, childishly whilst you swatted her wandering hands.
“I know you do bebe…” you’d straddled her lap then and looped your hands around her neck, playing with her baby hairs at the nape of her neck.
You knew she loved that.
That was confirmed as her eyes fluttered closed at your ministrations. “But I want to build a life here and I know what I want to do…” 
“Yes Mi Amor, anything you like, I will help you. I have contacts. I will support you in what you chose.” she’d giddily replied, seemingly doing a 180 on your career decisions once she realised it was a part of you cementing a life in Spain.
“Well you know, I’m kinda really good at what I do…” you saw her face drop slightly, though she quickly recovered, “well… what I did… you know. And I still love it, that will never change even after… everything…” you felt her squeeze your waist tighter at that. “but my skills outdoors, survival, foraging, working knots…” 
Well.
She couldn’t deny that. - you had accidentally become barca’s unofficial shoelace captain after you’d tied Mapis boots once for her when she’d dislocated her thumb, and they had to be cut off. Suddenly you had a whole teamload of girls queuing up for your services, headed by your girlfriend.
She was the only one who got a kiss on the knee as you finished up though.
Alexia immediately declared it a pre-match requirement.
“Si?” she asked, somewhat desperately.
“So I am thinking. I would like to join the British Army.”
A breath of silence, a beat, maybe not even more than 3 seconds until…
“Si crees que voy a aceptar que te unas al puto ejército, estás literalmente loco!, No, No, Absolutely not.” she was up now, you tossed aside as she started pacing… whilst you were on the couch…
Laughing your arse off.
“Que. What is so funny tu idiota?” she took a pause in her pacing, her stern face directed directly at you, hands raised in despair.
“I’m only joking Ale!” you giggled to yourself, wiping tears from your eyes. “Come get back here you big oaf.” you dragged her back into your embrace.
“You are not funny.” You could have camped on that bottom lip as she pouted.
“I am a little funny.” you'd bantered, showing a measurement of how funny you thought you were with your forefinger and thumb, which she pushed together with a huff.
But you noticed that she didn't let go of your hand.
Softie.
“Ok not funny my love I’m sorry. No, never the army. I do not want danger. Or travel for months at a time.  That part of my life is over.”
“sí, lo es” she’d mumbled.
“But, I do still have the contact urge to be outdoors. To share what I know. To show people the world.” you spoke with so much passion that she couldn’t help but nod. It was that same spark that she fell in love with.
“So, I have spoken to Mario…”
A smile appeared on her face. God. She loved that guy. He was a lovable rogue and she loved when he and his tribe of kids would join you at games. Sometimes she’d secretly watch you from the tunnel play with them whilst you all waited for the game to start. It made her heart flutter as they clambered all over you.
“... and he’s up for it too. If we go into business together. Guided tours and expeditions. Like how we met. But permanently. It would be based here, in Spain, and obviously I would be travelling but no more than a week or two at a time, and it would all be very low level and safe. Nothing big…. But if it makes you un…”
You were abruptly stopped in your rambling by her lips on yours.
“You don’t have to ask my permission mi amor. But I support you. It sounds fantastic. Perfecta para ti.”
You knew she’d support you but you still felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. 
“... but not. Like… exactly like the trip we met on. No? No falling in love with other women, si?” 
You’d burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of your girlfriend at that. “No, my love, never.” you’d muttered into her lips.
As you sit now, in your tree-lined garden on the southern edge of the Montseratt national park, only a short commute from estadi johan cryuff, you couldn’t really imagine a more perfect life.
You’d moved away from the city not long after you’d built your business. Turns out alot of people want a tour that a record-breaking explorer was running, and that's how Christopher Colum-Tours became a massive success.
You were booked for years in advance.
Mostly because you made sure you took so few, but well paying jobs. You thought the name was hilarious, when Alexia didn’t you were sure it was lost in translation.
She assured you it was not.
You’d mentioned it in passing to her that you needed more space to store all of your kit, but you didn’t expect her eyes to light up and to wake up the next day with 20 different house viewings booked.
She was literally buzzing with excitement, dragging you around Spanish villas on the edges of Barcelona, pointing out coving and brickwork. You'd never been fancy, you didn't care.
Until you walked into the last house on the list. And you knew you would build your life there.
It was on the southern edge of the national park, more modest than the others you had seen but views from the master balcony were endless and beautiful. It was surrounded by forest and its garden wasn’t as sculpted as you’d gotten used to in these multi million villas.
It was a wild garden with a natural-styled pool and a built-in fire pit.
It blended into the landscape it was built within.
Alexia has found you on the balcony, giddy about beams and authentic features, and all it had taken was one look in her eyes before she was squealing with glee “It's this one isn’t it amor!”.
Alexia had tried to pay outright cash. But you had refused. You both went on the mortgage and you loved that, that piece of paper connected you.
When you tried to explain that to her she’d lovingly rolled her eyes, “only you would see the good side to tens of hundreds of euros worth of debt and interest, Mi Amor.”
But you knew that meant she agreed. And she loved you.
So no, you couldn’t really understand the melancholy that was settling over you at the moment.
You’d just returned from a trip to England for your brother's birthday. Even though you now lived in Spain you’d been able to go to more family events than ever before, with your lack of travelling the world. 
You made the journey across every few weeks, usually when Alexia was away with a game or the national team. And you’d loved being more dependable to your family, with your nieces and nephews, being a part of their growing up.
Maybe that's why you are a bit sad now. It's November 3rd. The Spanish air was crisp but you couldn’t see your breath in the air like you could in England. The smell was all forest and fresh air. The days are still bright. There wasn’t a lingering fog in the evenings, or the smell of burning sulphur with the symphony of rogue fireworks being set off until the early hours.
Because this week was your favourite week growing up.
Mischief week, the firemen who visited your school had called it.
The week between Halloween and Bonfire night when kids lost their minds, hyped up on sweets and adrenaline. Bonfire displays all around your village and fireworks bursting the sky into life. You’d go to the cricket club display every year, warmed by the bonfire and cider. You’d eat toffee apples and hotpot. You’d spend the rest of the week sitting in your living room with the lights off watching the sky light up.
Usually you didn’t even notice what you were missing out on. But you had a home now. And you felt a little sad to be missing out on the festivities that your family group chat was organising.
But Alexia had just returned from National Camp. And she was always a bit down when she returned. Even if she pretended not to be. So you wouldn’t have delayed your return to Spain for all of the world.
You’d picked her up from the airport in your battered truck that she pretended she hated, spent a cosy evening together sharing food and soft kisses.
She’d gone to wash the plane off her whilst you wandered to your favourite part of the house and built a fire.
You tried to not drown in your own melancholy as you stared skywards. You heard the sliding of the patio door and you didn’t need to open your eyes to imagine your girlfriend making her way out to you. Cup of tea in one hand and ginger tea in the other. Scuttling barefoot with a blanket draped over her head adorably, muttering about you insisting on being outside. 
And when you felt a warm mug pressed into your hands you knew your image had been correct, you couldn’t hide your shy smile as you felt a kiss being dropped to your neck as she settled on the other side of the garden furniture, legs draped into your lap. You enjoyed the warmth of her legs as you continued to look skyward.
You didn’t realise how much time had passed until you felt Alexia sit up next to you and stroke your hair behind your ear.
“¿Qué pasa mi amor?” she’d whispered into the silence of the evening. You turned your head towards her, “Nothing, love, sorry I was just in my own world for a second there.” you smiled at her, reassuringly.
“en tu propio mundo…” she muttered to herself, struggling for a moment with the translation. “Ah, well. I thought so, usually I don't need to even think it before you’re massaging my knee, I was practically kicking you there carino and nothing.” she’d laughed lightly, as you flicked her playfully on the nose, whilst still moving your spare hand under the blanket and digging into the flesh of her calf, glad she’d asked for what she wanted.
“Let me in ti mundo, mi amor. What's on your mind.” she asked, lovingly, whilst laying back down, suppressing a groan as your hands manipulated the tissue around her knee cap, digging into the tightness that you found there with practised ease.
“Nada, soy buena.” you’d replied, purposefully timing your reply with a particularly satisfying knead just under her kneecap, making the beautiful blonde groan loudly, “Shhh, Ale. You don’t want to give the neighbours a show.”
She lightly kicked out at you at your teasing comment, rolling her eyes, “We don’t have any neighbours idiota, unless you count that molesta goat that you insist on feeding when he turns up in the garden.”
“His name is Billy and he’s my friend. You keep Billy out of this.” you allow a beat of silence, “And he’s not a goat he’s a mountain goat, he’s manly, don’t upset him…” you raise your voice “Billy if you’re listening ignore her she’s being mean!... Hey! Ale stop kicking me! I am not a ball.”
“You're trying to distract me.” she says, plainly. “What are you thinking?”, the way her eyes look at you with so much love stops any lie that was on the tip of your tongue.
“It’s silly…” another huff from the side of you, “I’m just missing home a little but thats all.” you admit, and her face drops. “No, not home, sorry, England. Home is here with you. Obviously.” you panic, you don’t want to upset her, Alexia is home. 
You don’t know what's come over you but you can’t stop speaking, 
“It’s just this time of year, it's my favourite time of year that's all. I never missed it when I was away, I didn’t have time to. But now I feel so at home here. With you. That it just feels a bit weird to not be doing what I did growing up and if we had kid…” you stop yourself, eyes widening.
Her smile is breathtaking. Her eyes light up and it's all teeth. But she gives you an out.
“And what would you usually be doing at this time of year, mi amor?” she asks,
“You know… Remember, Remember, the 5th of November…” you trail off, speaking in that rhythmic way British school kids are taught. Her blank expression makes you continue “...gunpowder, treason and plot. No? Really? I’m sure I was taught he was Spanish.”
“Amor, you are speaking in riddles. Help me here.” she asks, with a laugh teasing her lips.
“It's Bonfire Night, Guy Fawkes Night, Fireworks Night… whatever you call it.”
“I think Amor, we call it a Thursday Night.”
“Oh. Yeah, no of course. Sorry.”
“Why are you apologising to me? Tell me about it. Tell me what you’d be doing.” she asks, so genuinely that it cracks your heart wide open.
So you do, you tell her.
You tell her all about what you were taught in school. About Guido and his gang of conspirators, about parliament, about gunpowder and about the plan to blow up the King. You tell her about hanging, drawing and quartering, laughing at her squeamishness. You feel yourself getting giddy as you wrack the corners of your brain trying to remember all of the story you were brought up on. 
You tell her about penny for a guy, about kids sitting outside shops with their effigies for pennies, you tell her about your dad setting off fireworks in your street, almost blowing himself up, and then your mum insisting you go only to the official bonfire at the cricket club from that year onwards and watch the effigy being burnt on the enormous fire.
Alexia listened with rapt attention, and as you stopped for breath she spoke; “esperar, esperar, so let me get this correcta. Some guy 500 years ago tried to blow up cortes generales, so they graphically and publicly murdered him… and you celebrate that, as a country every year, by… kids begging and burning him on a fire you all go stand around?... In November?”
“Si.” you reply, with a smile and a nod, eyes moving back skywards.
“Estás todo loco” she laughs.
And you suppose it is. A bit mad, when you think about it really. But you were feeling a bit sensitive and a bit… mocked?
You felt like how you feel when someone would name-call your brother on the playground. You can do that. He’s your brother. But someone else can’t. Because that's your brother.
Alexia can’t mock your traditions. They’re yours. God knows you’d bit your lip throughout all of hers. I mean. If you could get through the explanation of a literal model of a pooping Alexia on your Nativity last year you felt like maybe she would get this. You even graciously accepted your own Canager from Eli with a smile.
You took a moment, a deep breath, you knew you were being sensitive, out of character. 
You knew usually you’d join in with her laughter, maybe tickle her and have a fake argument about it just as an excuse to make up. But you weren’t really feeling it today.
“Well, let’s agree to disagree, yeah?” you turned and smiled, you moved her trouser leg back down under the blanket, gave her knee a pat and moved her legs off you to stand. Whilst she looked up at you in bewilderment, with wide, curious eyes.
“I’m gonna get to bed love, I’m really tired all of a sudden, going to get my head down before I wake myself up again, you okay sorting the fire and locking up?”
She nodded, lost for words for a moment, practically having whiplash at the mood swing. You didn’t let Alexia lock up, or sort the fire. They’re your jobs. Always have been. Keeping you both safe. So she knew you were upset.
“Amo…” she started but she heard the patio door slide closed and moved to throw some sand onto the fire. She noticed your mug of tea on the arm of the sofa where you’d been sitting.
And when she saw that it was still half full she knew. 
She’d fucked up.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“....and then she said, estemos de acuerdo en no estar de acuerdo, and went to bed! And Mapi. She left her tea!” Alexia explained, desperately to her best friend, the next morning at training.
“...It’s only tea Ale.” Mapi tried to reassure her, “It means nothing amiga I am sure.”
“No, you don’t understand. And she was asleep when I went to bed and it wasn't even 10 minutes later. And then this morning, she was still asleep. She’s never still asleep. You know her Maps, she's up with the sun and…” the midfielder lowered her voice further,
“she always makes me a coffee with the cute foam heart and she didn’t but maybe she’s just tired, I thought, but then I looked and I saw she must have been up that morning because there was food out in the garden for that stupid goat… so was she pretending to be asleep to not speak with me?”
Alexia's voice got more and more panicked as she rambled on.
Mapis' heart melted for her friend,  the panic in her face reminded her of the Ale who used to pace the changing rooms with her phone cemented to her hand waiting for word from you. Of the Alexia who missed games because she made herself sick with worry that you were dead somewhere. She hadn’t seen this Ale for a while. She needed to help.
“Keira! Come here!” Mapi shouted over to the red haired midfielder.
“Mapi! Shh. Don’t! What are you doing!” Alexia hissed,
“I think this is a British problem, Ale, we need an expert.” 
“Well, why shout across the room? Lucy is standing right there.” Alexia pointed to the defender who was currently pretending her shin pads were lightsabers.
“Lucy thinks she’s Spanish.”
Alexia hummed. 
Fair point.
“What's up guys? Skip? Why do you have that face on?”
“Say the thing Capi. You know… the spell thing.” Mapi painfully nudged her captain in the ribs… “Que?... Oh…. Remember Remember the 5th of November....”
“Gunpowder, treason and plot, I see no reason, why gunpowder treason, should ever be forgot. Yeah? Why are we doing nursery rhymes” Keria recited, without a pause. Looking at them both, curiously.
“See it is a thing!” Alexia exclaimed, hitting Mapi over the head, “tell her what happened Capi.” Mapi asked, as Keira settled between the two.
As her story came to a close Alexia began to finish up… “and then she said we should ‘agree to disagree’” at this Keria winced but gestured for her skipper to carry on “...and then she went to bed but didn’t finish her tea.” Keira audibly groaned at that, moving to grab the taller girl's shoulder.
“Sorry Skip, In British ‘agree to disagree’ means, ‘I’m really upset but I don’t want to talk about it’ and well… I think it's a crime to leave a cup of tea. She must have really wanted to get out of there.”
“But why! I don’t know what I did!” the blonde groans into her hands.
“We’ll figure it out, amiga” Mapi reassured her, rubbing her back sympathetically.
“Erm…” Keria looked up, unsure.
“What?” Alexia's head shot up, looking at her teammate.
“I don’t want to talk out of turn Skip.. but…”
“No, go on, help me, please. What did I do?” Alexia asks, desperately.
“You can be... Well... You can all be… a bit. Catalan?”
“Que?!” the captain exclaimed, “What does that mean? I am Catalan!”
“No, No I know. And it's not a bad thing. But. You know, there's a lot. A lot to remember, Saint Jordi, all the pan con tomate…the loud dinners, the touching, the human towers… the fire-devil thing. And it's great! I love it! I respect it, And I know she does too but…”
“But…?” Mapi and Alexia ask together, looking everything like school children at a lesson, pencils poised. 
“But. And I am just guessing here…”
“Speak Keira or I will make you run laps.” the captain threatens.
“Maybe, you could… you know… try a bit… and I mean… a little bit. With some English things?” she finishes her sentence as a question, nervous to criticise her well-respected captain in any way.
“What do you mean! I do! I respect her! And all her things!”
“I know it's not on purpose Ale. But how would you feel if she said Sainte Jordi was silly.”
“It’s not silly! It's special, Mi Papi used to get me and Alba a rose every year and I still remember it now. I love doing it every year. It makes me feel… oh.”
“Yeah. And you know, me and Lucy come round for Sunday roast every month and you always go out.” she’d started now so she supposed, in-for a penny in for a pound, “and when she put an orange in your stocking at Christmas you laughed and told her it was a bad football and kicked it at her.”
Alexia looks at her teammate, cluelessly, whilst Mapi sniggers behind her hand,
“Alexia, It’s an English thing. Oranges don’t grow in England. They used to be a luxury so people would give them at Christmas to people they love. Like a sign of sharing?...and on pancake day you told her it went against your diet plan…” 
“Didn't she literally fell a tree last year to make you your own Caga Tio? She asked me where Onas was from, I said Amazon and I'm fairly sure she thought I meant the rainforest…” Lucy joined in on the salt being rubbed into the enormous wound party that Alexia didn't even know she was hosting. 
“Okay, Okay, I get it.” The captain said. Raising her hand. She felt terrible. She did go out on what she’d dubbed ‘English-Night’ when Keira, Lucy and sometimes Ona would invade her kitchen and cook weird food and watch English TV shows.
But she thought you'd want to enjoy your evening in English without her. And the pancake thing… well. It did go against her diet plan. 
You never said it was a tradition. 
She would have made an exception. 
She'd do anything for you.
You happily went along with all of her things, she had never even told you about Caga Tio, you'd found out on your own and done such an incredibly sweet thing that Alexia had cried and slept with it next to her side of the bed for a week. 
Not that she'd tell her teammates that. 
She hadn’t realised you’d been trying to share your traditions with her and she’d been closing it down.
“Why didn’t she say anything?” Alexia asks helplessly,  
“Because she loves you, and she doesn’t care as long as you’re happy I suppose… and also… because she’s English.”
This made her roll her eyes in frustration.
She felt ignorant.
She would fix this.
“Mapi, I need your help.”
—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You’d managed to shake off your little moodswing by the early afternoon.
You’d spent the morning answering a few work emails and planning a few new routes. As you set off for your run you felt noticeably brighter, calculating that if you did a bit of a longer run than usual then Alexia should be back home when you returned.
Sometimes you did that on purpose, and went on a longer run so she would be home when you got back. Like when you go to the toilet in a restaurant and you're excited when your meal is at the table when you return.
A little treat for yourself. 
God you had it bad.
You really wanted to spend time with your girlfriend, you felt a little bad about your moodiness and you wanted to make it up to her.
So when you got home from your trail run to a driveway with just your truck in it you tried to keep the sadness down. Training must have gone on this afternoon, sometimes that happened.
By the time early evening rolled around, you got a bit concerned, just as you picked up your phone it vibrates in your hand.
sorry Mi Amor, training turned into watching film, I will eat with Mapi at the canteen, see you soon, love you, miss you xx
You let out a little huff of annoyance to yourself. It's not Alexia's fault that you wasted your time together yesterday being moody. It's not her fault she's stuck at work.
At least her version of being stuck at work isn't being trapped under a mountain of snow and slowly dying.
Your little internal monologue of darkness makes you chuckle to yourself but your attention is grabbed by a knock on the front door.
“Hola Chica!!!”
You suddenly have a facefull of hair and are pulled into the bosom of a very loud and excitable Alba Putellas.
“Hi Alba! What are you doing here?” you ask, trying to not be rude but also wondering what has dragged the famously city-slicking younger Putellas out into the sticks.
“Que? Can a girl not come and spend the evening with their future cuñada? What's with the million questions hermana!” she blusters past you and into the entryway, leaving you standing with your mouth hanging open at the door as she settles into your sofa.
“... I asked one question” you mumbled to no one as you closed the door with the tornado now inside your home.
You explained that Ale was stuck at work, but Alba dismissed your apologies with a flick of her hand. “I'm not here for her, I’ve spent too much time with her, I think we should spend the evening together. Hermana to future Hermana.”
“Erm… sure.” You got on well with Alba. You got on well with all of Ales' family. They;d welcomed you as one of their own immediately. Eli had taken a vested interest in “getting you back up to strength” after your accident. That mainly consisted of not letting you leave the dinner table until eating 3 full plates of paella.
Usually though, Alba could be found in the bars of Barna, not in your living room, and you had a feeling that she knew Alexia was stuck at work. Which meant that Ale had sent her to spend the evening with you. And you hadn’t gotten away with your melancholy without her notice yesterday like you hoped you had.
Still, the thought of her sending her sister to keep you company warmed your heart.
Hours later your stomach hurt from laughing so much, and you felt ill with the amount of food you’d consumed. You and Alba had spent the evening watching telenovelas and cackling at the erratic storylines. Alba would insist every character was gay and you would nearly wet yourself with laughter when in 4 episodes she was proven right.
It's late when you hear the door slam in the hallway, you glance up at the clock and see its later than you even imagined.
“Hola cariño!” Alexia yells from the hall, and you can hear her shoes being kicked off and bag being shoved into the hall cupboard.
“Hola, my love!” Alba mocks back, voice high pitched and sounding resolutely nothing like yours.
You shove her by her shoulder as you rise to greet your girlfriend.
“Hola, my love.” you repeat as you greet her, settling into her open arms and nuzzling into her neck dropping a kiss against her warm skin you find there.
You take a deep breath of the taller woman. “Ale… why do you smell like… onions?” you ask, curiously.
“Vale, vale, I am going to bed before the show starts.” Alba interrupts as Alexia separates herself from you in order to reach across and slap her sister's head.
“Oh, Si? Si Alba, of course you can stay over. Thank you for asking.” she shouts sarcastically at her sisters retreating from. Grumbling to herself as she turns back to her.
“Oh behave you big grump you love it when she stays over.” you whisper, falling into her arms again, settling into her warmth. “Long day?”
You feel the tension leave her body now she's home. “Si… we got lots done though,”
“Good. Feel ready for the weekend then?” you ask, she had a game on Saturday and you know she preferred to be over prepared.
“The weekend?”
“Si, the game? Seville?” you ask, with a laugh to your voice. She must be tired.
“Oh, si, sorry, of course. I am tired mi amor. Yes. I feel ready.” she replies, moving to face you more closely, large hand cupping your cheek and dropping a quick kiss to your lips.
She moves away but you aren’t finished. You've had a long day of missing your girlfriend. And you pull her closer and deepen the kiss, moulding your lips to hers and groaning when she accepts your tongue in her mouth. As you break apart for breath you hear her mutter a little ‘wow’, which melts your heart.
Seriously, only your world famous, drop dead gorgeous, professional footballing girlfriend can get so worked up over some heavy petting.
It's her turn to pull your lips back together and you enjoy swapping sweet kisses before you pull apart… “Al…” she's moved down to your neck… “Ale… why do you taste like… pepper?”
“Huh?” you can’t see her face as she continues to press kisses down your neck. “Don’t know what you’re talking about amor.” she seems to have decided she's finished with your neck for now as she takes a step back.
“I better go wash the day off me. Meet you in bed?” she asks, and who are you to refuse as you nod your agreement and start to tidy the living room as she leaves for upstairs.
“Hey?” you look up and she's popped her head back into the living room, “I missed you today.” she says, simply. Cheeky smile on her face.
Alexia was the most intelligent and complex woman you knew. But sometimes her ability to be so simple was the thing that made you fall so deeply in love with her. She missed you, so she told you.
“I missed you too, love.” you reply, softly. 
She smiles satisfied, and moves from the doorway again. For 3 seconds until she reappears.
“Don’t go to sleep til I’m there por favor, I want to fall asleep together.” you feel your blush start to creep up your neck and open your mouth to reply before,
“Ay dios mio, perdedora! It's a shower, you aren’t going to drown. How do either of you get anything done!” Alba shouts from the top of the stairs, and your girlfriend's head quickly disappears again, before you hear a scream and the thunder of her scaling the stairs…
“vuelve aquí diablo!”
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You drummed your fingers on the steering wheel as you waited for your girlfriend outside of the training buildings. It wasn’t usual but she’d asked you to pick her up that morning.
As you’d passed her her morning coffee (foam art included), she’d taken a moment longer than usual giving you a soft morning kiss and breathing you in before she asked you to keep the afternoon free.
“I want to take you on a date, Mi Amor.” she’d mumbled, cutely, “Alba will take me back into the city, then you can pick me up after your session at the school, dress warm.”
“I haven’t said yes yet!” you’d teased, with a roll of your eyes, “and hey, what they say is true, el romance esta muerto! I am picking you up for a date you asked me on! Tut. Ale. You used to be suave.”
“soy muy suave.” she’d confidently replied. “You’ll see on our date… that you’re picking me up for”.
A cheeky smile and a pat on the bum later she’d chased Alba out of the house, and suddenly you felt like you were watching the vision that Eli had grown old too.
Two bickering Putellas sisters acting like teenagers on their way to the school bus, hitting each other and Alba chasing Alexia down the drive after one kick too many.
So, you’d done as you were told and after your talk with 28 school kids about basic survival skills here you find yourself patiently waiting for your girlfriend.
The door to the training facility opened and you were surprised to see Alexia emerge bundled up in far too many layers and knit hat cutely adorned on her head. She really was adverse to the cold. Usually she’d be the last to leave training, insisting on a team talk or taking extra free kicks, but she searched the car park eagerly and eyes lit up as she took you in in your beat up old blue pickup truck.
The next surprise she gave you was when she didn’t hurry to the passenger seat, instead making her way to your window and, when you didn’t move, knocking on it with a rap of her knuckles. You roll the window down with a quick of your eyebrow.
“Can I help you señora?” you ask, “Si, mover… por favour. I am driving.”
The absurdity of her comment makes you bark out a laugh, but you do as your told,
“Ale, you hate my truck.”
“I have never said that.”
“Yes you have. One million times. ‘Mi Amor, your truck brings our house price down.’...’Amor, your truck is warming the planet. I thought you liked trees.’...”Amor, your truck is so loud that I think a dinosaur is coming up the driveway…” you imitate, crudely but with a gentle laugh.
She just fixes you with a stern eye as she turns the key, a large grinding sound coming from the engine.
“In gear please Ale!”..."Ah, Si.” followed by the successful roar of the engine.
“Remember love, she doesn't have any heated seats, we listen to my Beatles CD cause its stuck in the player, and the gearbox is a little worn so please… be gentle”
“Weird, usually you aren’t asking me to be gentle.” she dryly replies, eyebrow arched and make you blush. She moves her hand to your thigh and you take it in both of yours as she asks about the school you spoke in, she listens with rapt attention and you bask in the way her eyes light up when she tells you about how Jana finally mastered a trick she’d been working on.
You’d gotten so lost in conversation and checking out your hot girlfriend that you’d forgotten to check your destination until you felt the truck come to a halt.
As you looked around you saw you were in a small car park, a familiar style building imposing in front of you.
A stadium.
You can’t help but be a little disappointed, if Ale’s idea of date night had transformed into football games then you may as well start just going to training with her to keep your romantic life alive.
“Oh. Lovely.” you’d hoped you’d infused as much enthusiasm into your tone as you could. Just happy to spend time with the blonde. “Who’s playing?”
“Barca.” she’d replied, getting out of the car and hurrying to your door, all the while holding her hand up as she hurried past the bonnet indicating to you that she wanted to open it.
She’d taken your hand in her large one and started to walk towards the stadium, you looked around and took in a few people milling about, some with unrecognisable kit on.
You don’t know if a temporary deafness had taken over your girlfriend but she ignored you as she pulled you towards the turnstiles. It was a much smaller stadium than your girlfriend usually played at, and it was quick to get into the grounds.
“Ah, gran admirador?” the steward asked, as he pointed at your trusty blaugrana laces, and you just smile and nod, no idea what's going on.
As you looked up you were at pitch level and you saw a familiar sight of… ‘H’ shaped sticks? You almost broke your own neck at the speed at which you spun to look at your girlfriend who was staring at you with a Cheshire cat grin splitting her face.
“We’re here to watch Rugby!” she practically cheers, clearly very happy with herself.
You’d always used it as a weapon to tease your football-obsessed captain-girlfriend with, that you had been brought up on Rugby. Your brother played and you’d spend weekends down at the Rugby Club cheering on at the side lines. Your dad followed the town team religiously and you’d been dragged down to London more than once for cup finals.
As your world got bigger your love for the game diminished but the familiar smell of tiger balm and clack of metal studs always managed to make you feel 9 again down at the local rugby club.
You felt a childlike giddiness erupt from your stomach as you took in your glowing girlfriend. “Ale, this is… this is…” you feel a bit emotional as you struggle to get your words out, your girlfriend saves you.
“Vamos! Let's go find the best place to watch!” Alexia drags you into the small stands which are sparsely occupied. 
“I didn’t even know Barcelona had a rugby team…” you say as you take your seat,
“Si, they do. They were promoted in 2006 but have been struggling since… they are currently 4th in the league though and today they’re playing 3rd so it…”
You interrupt your girlfriend by pressing a kiss to her lips, unable to stop your affection as you realise how much she had researched for you. “Te amo.” you mutter into her lips. You open your eyes before her and see her sit with her eyes closed for a moment, smile teasing on her lips, dazed.
“yo también te amo cariño” she replies, opening her eyes, “now come, watch. They're kicking off.”
You thoroughly enjoy yourself for the next 80 minutes. You realise that you have never watched a sports game with Alexia. Usually watching her or if she wasn’t playing she’d be sat on the bench with the team. 
She’d usually be too invested and serious to have a fun time. But here, without being impacted by the outcome, nor really having any idea what was going on. Alexia was clearly having the time of her life.
She was giving off serious big dick energy, sitting in her plastic chair like she owned the stadium, legs spread wide and ankles hooked as she took in the pitch before her. Alexia wasn’t into PDA, however, here she pulled you close to her as though you were in your living room, clearly happy that she wouldn’t be bothered by anyone at a sparsely populated Rugby game. 
“Amor, comer aqui. Explain this to me… “ she'd gestured to the pitch before her with one hand and pulled you closer with the other, draping both of your legs over one of hers so your legs dangled between hers, and you sat sideways facing her as she rested her arm around your shoulders. 
You tried to ignore the feel of her strong thigh muscle underneath yours. Noticeable even though two sets of heavy clothing. 
She started to play with the baby hairs at the nape of your neck as you tried to explain a scrum, mauls and drop kicks.
But you found yourself watching her side profile more than the game, her sharp jaw, the curve of her eyebrow. How cute she looked in her little barca beanie, eyes bright with excitement. 
She gives your hair a little tug, “Mira el juego bebe…” she mutters, eyes still looking forward but a grin teasing her lips, “...I paid a good €8 for these tickets.”
You laugh and concentrate on the game before you, laughing at Alexia's commentary throughout, ‘you can use your hands! How is it even that hard!’ until a big hit where she would recoil into herself and muttered ‘nevermind’.
She would cheer every time someone kicked the ball and when you got into the game and shouted “Offside ref!!” she hushed you and insisted that it wasn’t, until you explained the offside rule was different and her mind nearly exploded. 
It was a close game and you found yourself sucked in.
Becoming more animated until the final play of the game, Barca had possession and you couldn’t help it when you stood up and shouted, “stick it up your jumper… go on… RUN….ooooh!”, you looked down and saw Alexia looking up at you with wide eyes, a teasing glint in them, you grew flushed and sat down tentatively, “Amor, I have never seen you so… aggressive… I like it.” she decided, smirk on her lips.
Barca ended up losing but it didn’t take away any of the shine from the day, as you left the stadium you swung your hands between your bodies with excitement, “Ale, that was the best surprise date ever. Thank you.”
You noticed that a look you didn’t recognise flashed across her face as she opened the door for you, guiding you into the passenger seat with a kiss.
“Can we go to Casa Pepe for some dinner?” you ask, looking out of the window and taking in the darkened sky, “No.” she replied, which caused you to turn, and you saw a wry grin on her face, “date isn’t over yet amor, I have plans on plans. Sit back and enjoy the ride.”
Alexia then goes onto stall the truck and take off to a stuttering start, and because she was being so sweet you didn’t say anything but looked out of the window to hide your face.
“Shut up.” she chides anyway.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You’re confused as Alexia drives your truck off road and onto a beach just outside the main area of Barcelona. You see fairy lights in front of you and a huddle of cars and people milling around.
“What's going on Ale?” you ask, trying to take in the look on her face in the darkness of the cab of your truck as she reverses into a semi-circle with some other cars.
She doesn’t have a chance to answer before you are startled by a knock on your window and Mapis' face pressed against the glass with glee.
“You’re here! You’re here! Finally… Capi, can we start it now pleaaaase….” Mapi is silenced by her girlfriend who has made her way over and pulled her from the window. “Give them a second kjære, come, I need your help over here…” and Ingrid winks at you as she leads her excitable puppy of a girlfriend away.
You remain not having any clue about what the hell is going on.
Alexia has slipped out of the truck and moved around to your side, opening the door and you spin on the bench, widen your legs, and pull her between them.
She looks at you with a wide, open expression.
“Remember, Remember, the 5th of November…” she starts, which immediately causes the penny to drop, as you look to the scene on the beach before you.
A large unlit bonfire stands a safe distance from the trunk of your car, you continue to look around and see Eli ordering around most of Alexias team mates and even some backroom staff you recognise from the training grounds, as she stands in charge of what seems to be a crudely put together buffet table. Illuminated by fairy lights you see pots of steaming food which she stirs intermittently.
You even spotted Mario with his newly pregnant (again!) wife and his tribe of kids playing with a small football alongside Jana and Marta.
You can’t help the tears that come to your eyes at the scene before you.
“I am so grateful for you Amor…” she starts, “You have fit so well into my family and life that maybe I missed some things about your family and life…”
“No Ale.”
“No it’s okay, I know you love me. But I wanted to do this for you. But then… well. It escalated. I asked Keira and Lucy for help but then they got so excited about bonfire night that they kind of invited themselves, and then one person turned into another… and then, as soon as Mapi found out there were explosives and fire I couldn’t keep her away. And well, Ingrid had to come because she has a vested interest in keeping Mapis fingers attached to her body. And well. At that point it had got so big that I just invited anyone from the club who wanted to come, and their families. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course I don’t mind! This is the sweetest thing in the world… Is that…” you sniff up… “hotpot?!”
Alexia soon became old news as you scurried over to Eli and the food table, kissing her in greeting and falling into her embrace, there were bubbling pots of Chilli, Hotpot, Mushy Peas and even a tray of toffee apples.
Ingrid had come over and presented a tray of parkin that she had baked, beautifully presented in the elegant way that only the Norwegian could. “I hope this is right, I googled it and Mapi taste tested it and she was happy, but honestly, she’s happy if I give her dog food so i’m not sure she's the best judge.”
“Ingrid it’s perfect.” you assured her, the grin breaking your face convincing her more than your words.
“Can we set the fire yet!” Mapi had shouted across the set up, bottle of accelerant in hand that she had been spraying onto the pile of dried wood. A somewhat maniacal look on her face.
One of the physios took the bottle from her hand gently and pushed her towards Ingrid, taking over the situation when he recognised there was a chance the whole beach was going up in flames if she was left in charge.
As the fire grew and grew, everyone's faces were bathed in the golden light. The chill was still in the air and you felt a large puffy jacket being slung around your shoulders. Alexia standing behind you, resting her chin on your head as you settled back into her.
“Ale. Is that Guy wearing a Real Madrid jersey?” you asked, amused, as you noticed that the traditional effigy had a familiar football shirt on.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about, amor.” she replied, laughter in her voice. Before you had a chance to tease her further she pinched your hips, “come on, lets get some food! I’m starving, and all this brown British mushy food smells so good…”
Well. At least she was trying.
You ate and ate, you don’t think you’ve ever been as full in your life. Alexia had spent all the evening before perfecting her hotpot recipe with the help of Eli and it was good.
She’d even shown you the burn marks on her fingers where the hot toffee from the toffee apples has caught on her skin.
Eli told you how Alexia had turned up at her house with Mapi, arms full of ingredients needing help to make traditional foods, which she then stressed over for the rest of the evening, whilst Mapi paced the kitchen, talking to her ‘fireworks guy’, because of course Mapi had a man with explosives on speed dial. 
You’d told the story of Guy Fawks to an intrigued Irene, Mateo happily munching on a sticky apple on her knee. “Ah, I see… It feels like a cold San Juan. I like it” she’d declared, with an air of finality.
“So… they’re like, guisantes but… pulposa?” you overheard Parti asking Keria, as the ginger was gladly wolfing down a portion of mushy peas. “Yeah! Try them… you’ll love them.”
As a second passes before you hear a distinctive gag and Kerias laughter echoing around you think maybe Patri did not love them. Ona greedily scoffed her own portion down with Lucy looking on, proudly, “Te acostumbras amiga” she jeered towards her retreating friend, who went in search of the drinks table.
The fire dimmed but still fought on and you were shepherded towards your truck by your girlfriend, the hatch had been brought down and you could see that Alexia had stored every spare pillow and blanket from your house and made a cosy nest in the bed of your trunk.
She threw herself in, happy to warm herself in the nestle of blankets, always being more susceptible to the cold. Nose red and beanie pulled low down on her head. She opened her arms invitingly and you settled between her legs, watching the scene before you.
You watched as Alba and her latest girlfriend messed around feeding each other parkin. You watched as Mapi chased Pina around with a sparkler in her hand, the younger girl screaming for her life as Mapi cackled. You watched Eli cooing over Jona’s young baby, looking so confident with the newborn only an experienced mother could. You took in how Lucy seemed to eat her 5th bowl of chilli as Ona chatted her ear off.
The scene was perfect.
Only made more so as you felt Ale move her cold hands beneath your warm clothing, grabbing you around the stomach and resting her hands there, making you hiss at the contact, “buscar mi amor” she whispered into your ear, as you looked to the sky and watched as the familiar explosion of fireworks in the sky above you.
The whoops and hollers of the kids (and Mapi) warmed your heart, as you watched the display you let the the sound of the explosions and the ‘ooh’s’ and ‘ahh’s’ of the families and friends around you seep into your bones. The smell of sulphur invaded your senses and you settled more deeply into the woman behind you.
You quickly snapped a picture to share in your family group chat, quickly joining the tens of fireworks pictures from different displays as you all shared your evening, far away yet able to be involved, thanks to your Ale.
“Tell me about Bonfire Night, Mi Amor, I promise, I do not think it is silly.”
That much was obvious, with the effort she had gone to in such a short space of time. 
You told her about the big fires the village came together to build. How it made your community stronger. The fireworks and how the sky lit up all week. The school projects and crude drawings of fires you would make.  The toffee apples you would get stuck in your teeth and the parkin your mum would bake. 
How the stickiness would sit on your hands for days. How your dad would always throw an unexploded firework into the bonfire without thinking, making him run away from the explosions behind him as you and your brother peeled over with laughter. How the cold would pinch your cheeks and you’d check the bonfire for hedgehogs before it was lit. How you’d spend days building a guy from your dads old clothes stuffed with newspaper. How you would run around with sparklers and spend all the next day picking them up from the streets with your brother and putting them into a bucket.
“It sounds fun, Mi Amor. I am glad you grew up with so much love. I get to benefit from it now.” Alexia had muttered into your hair, and pressed a kiss to your head.
You felt those memories wash over you, and knew that this bonfire night would be right up there with them, cemented as the best times of your life.
Yes, you weren't used to the sound of the waves as you usually watched the bonfire burn, and no, you usually weren’t stood on a bed of sand. No, your usual bonfire night would not consist of Alexia telling off Jana and Patri for sneaking in croquetas behind one of the parked cars, insisting they had to eat the British food prepared.
But the smiles were the same, people coming together around the fire was the same, the children laughing and family enjoying time together was the same, couples falling further in love and cuddling together for warmth was the same, the colours and the sparkles that lit up everyone's faces. The same.
“Thank you Alexia. For all of this. The rugby, this, it’s…It's… perfect.”
“You are perfect.” she’d replied, without hesitation.
You swatted her hand that still rested on your stomach, “Soppy.” you’d admonished.
“Not sorry,” she’d quipped back. You fell into a comfortable silence, enjoying the sound of the fireworks popping above you.
“Our kids will celebrate bonfire night.” she’d let out, suddenly, with certainty. Finishing the thought you’d started to express days earlier. 
Before you had a chance to formulate a thought she continued, “and pancake day. And they will watch Rugby. And football. And celebrate La Mercè. They will know about Sant Jordi. And Saint George.”
“Ale…” you’d let out, wetly, tears brimming in your eyes.
“They will be a mix of both of us. And I will marry you, you know? One day. We will be married.”
There she is again, with her beautiful simplicity.
You don’t really know what to say to that, and you let the silence take hold for a moment.
Where was the woman who blushed in embarrassment when she realised you’d understood her muttered Spanish compliments? Though, you suppose, you’d both changed together. Where was the woman you used to be who would refuse to stay in a postcode for more than 2 weeks?
“ain’t no mountain high enough” you softly sang at her, trailing your fingers down her arm, lightly, it had become your song, between the two of you, when things were bad with your PTSD she would hold you close and sing quietly, in the safety of your bed, her spanish lilt would settle your heart rate and the lyrics would melt the ice in your veins.
Her arms squeeze you tighter, both lost in the safety of your blanket fortress under the stars, surrounded by friends and family but you may as well be the only people on the beach.
“I can’t wait to ask you, officially.”
God if this setup was her idea of a date, you couldn’t imagine her idea of a proposal.
“I can’t wait to say yes” you replied, playing with her ring finger that was settled on your stomach, “officially.” 
You moved back and kissed the tall blonde softly, passionately, until you’re interrupted by Mapi’s aggrieved exclamation;
“Espera! The Guy was ¿Español?”
596 notes · View notes
beannoss · 1 month ago
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So I've been thinking about them:
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Specifically I was wondering what the moment was (if there even was a specific moment) that cinched it for Twilight developing feelings for Yor.
[Spoiler warning: this post references manga chapters not yet animated]
I think for Yor it's pretty quick. Like, this moment here:
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Not that Yor fell in love with Twilight then (ymmv) or that she's fully aware of her feelings, but it's explicit that she felt connected to him here and attached in meaningful ways.
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But for Twilight, it wasn't so clear. For a while I'd kind of decided that it just came over him slowly (and I think there is something to that) and that there wasn't any singular moment which stood out. But that didn't feel quite right. The more I thought about it, the more I thought there were two stand-out moments, only one of which Twilight actually (semi-)clocks.
The first, which I think passes him by entirely, is this:
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In my view, this laugh is an entirely authentic response. I think he is, despite himself, delighted by this woman who 1. just unexpectedly saved him from being stabbed, and 2. did it by sending the guy flying across an entire alleyway.
This is accentuated in the anime, I think, by the jaunty, puckish music that makes up the first part of their marriage theme song. I am dying for the reappearance of this music in some fashion, btw, it's so fun and cheeky and I'm hoping foreshadows their vibe after various revelations and particularly when they start working together as Agent Twilight and Thorn Princess:
The second moment for Twilight, I think, is more subtle for all it's more impactful. Or at least, the degree of its importance passed me by on initial read/watch, and I think it's deliberately downplayed by Twilight himself. Because he does actually clock it but if he looks more closely at it, well... then he might have to do something about it. And maybe that something won't comport with what the mission needs, and then what?
It happens when Twilight first bugs Yor, and then poses with Franky as SSS agents to test whether she knows Yuri is with the SSS.
It's clear in the lead up that Twilight recognises he has some feelings about/for Yor, and he doesn't want to spy on her; he doesn't want to mistrust her at all. He has to convince himself to take seriously that she may be a potential threat.
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And even then, the convincing only sort of mostly works, because he hesitates again:
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Which is, by the way, bananas. At this point, they've been a fake family for maybe a handful of weeks? Twilight is an experienced, accomplished spy with a finely honed and necessary sense of paranoia. Of course he should be suspicious. Her brother is an SSS agent! Canonically, the SSS are both Twilight- and SSS self-described as Twilight's greatest existential threat. It shouldn't be a question whether or not to verify Yor's knowledge here. And yet.
We all know how the rest plays out. He decides that listening in isn't enough, he needs to confront her insofar as he's able. I wrote previously about Twilight's relationship with Anya and the pivotal moment for him in how his view of his relationship with Anya changes based on Anya's (and Endo's) choices. I think a similar thing happens in this scene with Yor.
See, it would have been enough for Yor to continue to deny, continue to not call on Yuri's help, to prove she didn't know, and to put Twilight's mind at ease.
Endo takes it further.
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Y'all: THIS IS ABSOLUTELY WILD. It borders on levels of impulsive foolhardiness that Twilight should actually take as a negative for the person playing his wife for Operation Strix. Yor even alludes later to the problems this could cause!
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The SSS are indiscriminate; if Yor was facing down actual SSS agents, first assaulting and then threatening them would 100000% land her in custody. Were it not for Yuri, it may even get her disappeared, based on how casually and frequently Yuri references having people executed. It would absolutely put the Forgers at risk, in general and in the implicitly sexist Ostanian society, because if Mrs Forger behaves this way, how does Mr Forger behave? And why can't he control his wife? The Secret Police are not known for their leniency, their modesty, their discerning, their temperateness, their mercy. They are known for the exact opposite of those things. And due to being a spy, Twilight probably knows they're actually much worse than even their public reputation.
And here's Yor saying: you can question me but if you threaten my brother or my husband, I will fucking end you. Bodily.
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Of course, it's entirely in keeping with her character, and it's an entirely revealing moment of who she is. And I think this is the moment for Twilight. He's already been trusting her bit by bit, as he says above, intuitively. I'd suggest that maybe even more than that though, Yor taps into something Twilight deeply wants: backup. Someone and somewhere safe. Maybe we could describe a person fulfilling that role in an adult relationship as a partner...?
It's because he doubts his intuition (his wants, his feelings, things he shouldn't be countenancing) that we get to this point where he (overzealously) tests her.
She blows his test right out of the water.
The SSS are basically the group he fears most; this is reiterated throughout the story. He doesn't trust them specifically because of who he is and also just generally. He doesn't trust their judgment. He doesn't share their values or their priorities. He doesn't like them around. He doesn't like them looking. He doesn't like being anywhere near them. (Also, he's right.)
And here's Yor. Not only standing up to them on his behalf but actually going on active defence on his behalf.
(I pause here to note 'on his behalf' is a bit, mm, tricky, since it's actually technically on Loid's behalf and I have Thoughts and Feelings about Twilight & Identity. But for the sake of the impact of this moment on Twilight, we'll take it as writ that in this moment there's no appreciable difference between Twilight and Loid.)
I think from here on out, it's incredibly difficult for Twilight to ever doubt or distrust Yor. He perceives her as firmly in his corner, that if the chips are down — if his worst enemy and his worst fear come knocking — she'll be on his team, unflinchingly. He may not think there will be much she can do (heh.) or much she can offer given the power of the SSS and her civilian status (I reiterate: heh.), but it matters that he believes that she'll be by his side.
And you know what? He's right. She will be.
That isn't something he's had since he was a little boy. Even WISE doesn't seem to offer that to its agents, given Nightfall's thought here:
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Twilight's had to rely on himself for decades and now here's this astonishing woman who will threaten the Secret Police for his sake. Of course he trusts Yor. Of course this moment widens the cracks in his barriers. And further: of course those cracks start to reach into those walls deep, deep inside that protect his heart. This is all before getting to other moments, like when he reflects on how Yor is creating a better world in ways he (thinks he) can never aspire to do himself. That she loves Anya openly, freely, with such dedication, to the point of sacrificing her own needs. That she just never gives up, she persists and persists and persists, always doing her best. That she reminds him it's okay to accept peace and to rest. That she wants and tries to take care of him... On and on and on.
Of course we get to this point:
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I'm particularly taken with his body language a little later in the scene. He manages to get himself to sitting but he's still sprawled, open, even as he can't wrap his mind around what exactly is happening or why, and he's feeling vulnerable for all that. But at the same time, this is Yor. And she's safe.
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In my view, if the Mole Arc hadn't happened immediately between this moment and the earlier where Yor declares herself unhappy, it would have been clearer how much stress he felt specifically due to Yor's apparent sudden unhappiness with their arrangement. The stress got subsumed (conveniently, ahem, Endo) into the stress and violence of the Mole Arc, but I think it rattled him pretty profoundly. It's also additionally why her warm greeting hit him as hard as it did: relief across multiple lines, such that he had to remind himself not to relax, despite Yor's apparent return to normal.
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And there may be added layers to Twilight's reactions to Yor's bad moods due to his familial history, as pointed out by @unhappy-sometimes in this post; the inverse, of course, is that Yor's general good-naturedness would add layers to Twilight's sense of security with her. And the apparent loss of that, all the more devastating.
Rounding out the original moment though, I think this in many ways demonstrates the point:
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Twilight throws away the bug. That is also wild. It isn't like that bug could only be used on Yor; it wasn't somehow modified to only respond to her person. It was a device that could be used and reused on different targets, on people who actually are worthy of being bugged, etc. But instead of pocketing it for later use, Twilight throws it away.
Actually: he not only throws it away, he crushes it first. Perhaps because he couldn't stand to have that particular device around, the device he used when he doubted Yor?
Seems kind of irrational, Twilight.
Seems kind of telling.
I mentioned my last Twilight meta about his relationship with Anya: in that, I suggest Twilight recognised entering into a compact with Anya, which subtly modifies, for him, the motivations around Strix. I think something like that happens here, too. If Yor is willing to go to such apparent extremes to protect him, he'll do his utmost to protect her.
I've had this meta in my drafts for a while, but I'm chuffed by this panel from the most recent chapter, as it kind of underscores all this by Yor's positioning of herself:
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(Of course the point is there isn't a dichotomy: they'll protect each other, as indicated by Yor's if I had to choose: she won't have to choose.)
Back to Twilight, at this point, he can still justify all this as being within mission parameters. Of course he should protect Yor: she is an innocent civilian and if anything happens to her it would threaten Strix. But if/when this line is tested, if/when there comes a point where protecting Yor is actually the option that may put Strix at risk or put him somehow in opposition to WISE, then we'll see.
And more importantly, Twilight will see, too.
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