#literally why invite him in the first place if you want him to be anything other than his very public and easy-to-check brand

[inactivewattpadauthor]

Fujin x Nurse Reader: Neonatal

Context: Fujin, a guest at a pregnant Sonya and Johnny's hospital room, meets a nurse who works on the exact floor.

(Yes, ik he could've possibly been in the void in canon while Sonya was preggers)

Warning: Angst(?) I don't want to spoil my own one shot lol ~~~~~~~~~~~~ The dim white lights flickered as Fujin slowly walked around the room his mortal friends were in.

Sonya Blade is finally due to birthing her first newborn. He felt honored to be invited to visit her and the soon to be father, Johnny Cage, but he felt he had no place in the room while she's in labor.

Not because the blond woman seemed snarkier than usual, specifically at Cage, but really, why should he be there? It wasn't his child being borne.

So, feeling slightly downed, the friendly wind god decided its best he waits out their door. Fujin would be happy to go back in after the child comes into the world.

The pretty silver haired male's boots echoed a slow rhythm down the halls. He really should be happy for them. He is happy for them. But also... he feels sad.

Children were a blessing to have. Little bundles of endless joy. A joy he will never know. And as much as he doesn't like to think, he's envious of the two involved mortals.

Fujin stops in his tracks. He's probably walking a little too far from the room. And he'd rather not cause any alarm to anyone, to whomever catches him in this silent, maybe soothing liminal space of a hall.

The shine of the lights reflected off the light blue tiles. When Fujin turns back, he notices his reflection in the window. However, his quite admirable appearance isn't what he focused on.

Through the window, he saw a tiny little human bundled in a blanket!

The demigod steps closer to the window. The baby was clearly asleep comfortably. So small. So adorable!

Fujin notices more cribs with more babies nesting in each one. Do they all come here soon after they enter the world?

Fujin looked back at the one closest. Placing a hand on the window, he fantasized the newborn as his very own. He wishes he could cradle them. Wish to hold them and keep them safe.

All he could do was smile at the sleepy bean. "I know you'll grow into something great, little one." He whispers.

Silence rose in the ambiance more. Fujin hadn't walked back to the room. All he just wanted to do was stay put and observe the many new babies.

Though it seemed all were asleep, doing literally nothing but breathing correctly,  they make Fujin happy.

"Which one is yours?" A sudden voice spoke up behind and Fujin flinches up.

Just out of nowhere, a nurse comes up on him. A neat smile on her face, not covered my the mask resting on her chin. H/c slightly shown beneath the blue cap.

No footsteps or anything. Not that the Lord noticed.

"O-Ohh... Pardon me. None of these are mine." Fujin informs the lady. "I just wanted to watch them."

From your perspective, you watched this man stand here for nearly twenty minutes, looking at the children. It's quite late. Maybe 2 am. He looks troubled.

"Ah. Are you a visitor?"

Fujin nods quietly before looking back at the window. "My friends are about to have their first child. I thought it would be more appropriate to be at a distance."

You walk to his side and also observe the youngings. "I hear you. Do you have your own?"

"Truly, I wish I could." You could hear the sadness in his tone. The silent assumption you made was based on appearance. He's not a normal human, obviously. You didn't mind!

Earthrealm has crazy things. Maybe he has really important things to tend to than to get settled!

"I hear you. I wish I had mine." You tell him with the same smile.

Your words didn't quite make sense to him. Looking at you, he questions with the need of elaboration, "I'm sorry?"

It's quite a private story indeed, but you don't care. Everything eventually worked out for you.

"I got to hold my baby girl for five months."

His glowing eyes widened at what you were telling him, then sympathy was given off. "I'm sorry you had to endure such an experience. I can only imagine what many pains came with that."

"No need to be sorry for me. Yeah, it drastically changed me, but I'm happy to work here. Like you, I wish I could have my own; but I'm happy to help parents nurture their newborn infants."

Fujin smiles softly at such optimism. "That's a very graceful thought."

"Thank you. I always try."

Muffled crying took both of your attentions. A baby in the row nearest to the window has woken up. Their wails are definitely louder in the room.

"What's wrong with that one?" Fujin asks with concern.

"Could be it's not used to being out the womb. Or just hungry." You casually say.

Patting his shoulder softly, you start to move on now. You're still on the clock. "I best get back to work now. I'm pretty sure I'm the only free one on the unit."

"Very well, I admired speaking with you."

Before Fujin walks back to Sonya and Cage's delivery room, he watches you work gently with the infants.

Your endurance inspires him.

*Boooonnnnussss æeugh*

Fujin was still seated outside the room before he abruptly heard a loud scream, muffled by the walls.

His heart skipped a beat. Should he go in there to check up on all of them? Make sure Blade is okay. She's a string woman, but Fujin doesn't mind at all if he needs to use his God powers to heal.

Opening the door, was the actor walking out in tears. Fujin looks at him, concerned.

"She broke my hand!" Johnny's voice shakes as he showed off the impressively swollen hand.... that was him yelling??

Fujin just looks even more worried as Cage ran off to get his broken hand treated. ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Fujin would casually stare at newborns and be very fond.

I'd give him a kid fr😔

[bananonbinary]

"chuck tingle uninvited to book festival because of his mask and then reinvited because ugh i GUESS if it's an autism aid we'll allow it" is the most ridiculous thing ive ever heard. literally why did they give a shit in the first place, why would they want the author of books that famously have titles like "Pounded In The Butt By The Sentient Physical Manifestation Of My Slippery Slope Argument" to show up, but like, not act "too weird"

wtf did you THINK you were getting

[daisydrabbles]

Maybe it's the Moonlight

- Theo Nott x Female Reader

Pairing: Tutor!Theo Nott x Good girl!female reader

ⓘ When I write within an academic setting it’s a university au and therefore all characters are over 18!

Warnings: slight dubcon, dirty talk, fingering, corruption, praise, mild degradation, power imbalance, unprotected sex, creampie, public sex (there’s literally nobody around but still it’s a public place)

Summary: Theo has been assigned to tutor you in astronomy, but his methods are a little… unorthodox (they involve fucking)

Word count: 3.1k

‘I didn’t take you for the type to sneak out past curfew, doll.’

You looked up from your seat on the edge of the Astronomy Tower to see your devastatingly handsome tutor staring down at you.

As one of the brightest in your year, it was incredibly frustrating to you that you were almost failing astronomy. What was even more frustrating was that Theodore Nott, the infamous man-whore who’d probably never stepped foot in the library (for reasons other than making out behind the bookshelves), was top of the class.

When you requested additional help, you expected to be partnered with someone like Hermione Granger - someone as studious and academically motivated as you. Yet here you were, meeting with one of the most attractive yet most troublesome boys in school.

You two were the definition of an oxymoron: you; good, innocent and studious, juxtaposed with him; bad, corrupt and carefree.

‘I’m normally not,’ you said defensively, ‘but I really need to pass this class.’

‘And you want my help.’ he smugly added as he sat down next to you.

Immediately, you felt some weird tension between the two of you. Why did he look so happy to be here? And why was he wearing such a predatory smile on his face?

Maybe it’s the moonlight you told yourself, as you made a mental note to reschedule your next session for a more civilised location, despite the fact that this one was undeniably practical - what better time and place to study the stars?

You cleared your throat and flicked through the pages of your textbook, feeling rather shy, and desperate to get this study session over with as soon as possible. ‘So, what first?’

Theo tutted and plucked the dusty old book from your hands, before he carelessly chucked it over his shoulder. ‘What’s first is I wanna hear you say it: Theo I need your help.’

‘Hey I needed tha- what?’

He was already having fun with your new dynamic. Whilst you were disappointed with your assigned tutor, he was pleased. In astronomy, the only class you shared, he would watch you intently - in a way not dissimilar to how lions stalk their prey. You were too perfect… he thought often of inviting you over and corrupting you; fucking you senseless and leaving enough marks on your body to prove it. However he knew you would never agree to hang out with him outside in a social setting - his academic arrangement was a perfect way to get you alone.

‘You heard me, miss high-and-mighty, I want you to say the words.’

‘Why?’ you crossed your arms in protest. You didn’t want to admit to needing anyone, especially not Theo Nott.

‘Cos you think you’re better than me,’ he said simply, ‘yet here you are about to fail astronomy, expecting me to help you pass it. You almost sound entitled really, maybe I should just go-‘

‘Fine.’ you cut him off, which only made him grin and look at you expectantly. ‘Theo I… I need your help.’

‘Good girl.’ his grin widened hearing you say those words, whilst simultaneously your eyes widened hearing his response. What did he just call you?

‘Why did you want me to say it so badly?’

He shrugs. ‘What man doesn’t want a pretty girl to say she needs him?’

Cheeky bastard. Nevertheless, you felt your cheeks heat up against your will. He thought you were pretty. Not that that should’ve meant anything, coming from someone like Theo Nott. He was notorious for being a womanizer. A playboy. A man-whore. You so badly wished his reused words had no effect on you, but they did. Looking down at your lap you prayed that your flush wasn’t noticeable in the darkness, for you were almost embarrassed at how he could fluster you with so few words.

It was very noticeable.

At least, it was for Theo, who had been seeking such a reaction and had therefore picked up on it immediately. He wasn’t entirely sure if you even wanted to study at all when you suggested meeting in the Astronomy Tower, with it being a primarily regarded by students as a hookup spot. It surprised him that you actually brought textbooks and came with the intention of learning.

He had other ideas.

He was sick of girls throwing themselves at him, this time he wanted a challenge - but he didn’t just didn’t want any challenge, he wanted you.

He wanted to shut your smart little mouth up with his own; he wanted the satisfaction of taking someone so smart and fucking them dumb. The dirty-minded boy found it cute that you’d so innocently suggested the meeting in the middle of the night - that the impure thoughts he was thinking hadn’t even crossed your mind.

Clearly you hadn’t considered your choice of clothing either. He didn’t miss the way the wind was causing your little pleated skirt to fly up, nor the way your tight blouse clung to your curves and accentuated all the right places. Places he’d love to touch; to kiss.

Alas, he would have to settle for letting his mind wander for now. As badly as he wanted to fuck you, he did also commit to helping you. His hands would have to wander later. Wander up to your perky tits, down to your sensitive cunt…

‘Anyway,’ he shook his head to rid himself of his horny thoughts, ‘is there an area of study you’re particularly struggling with?’

‘Star charts.’ you admitted, your shoulders slumping.

Theo looked as though he was trying his hardest not to laugh at you. ‘Star charts?’

‘You’re supposed to help me, not mock me.’ you deadpanned.

‘I’m sorry,’ he chuckled, ‘I just find it amusing that someone as intelligent as you can’t read a fucking star chart.’

‘I can read a star chart just fine. I just can’t…’

‘Use it to navigate the sky?’ he offered.

‘Exactly!’

Unable to help himself, he dropped his voice to a low and seductive tone and leaned into your ear. ‘Well I’d be more than happy to make you see stars.’

Theo’s hot breath on the side of your neck combined with his dominant tone caused a gush of wetness between your legs. Discreetly, you squeezed your thighs together, silently willing yourself to break free from whatever trance he’d put you under.

This didn’t go unnoticed by Theo, who was thoroughly enjoying watching you squirm.

‘I- if you don’t wanna help me that’s okay but I think maybe I should-‘

‘Believe it or not,’ he cut you off, his tone surprisingly gentle, ‘I’m actually trying to help you.’

A puzzled look appeared on your face. ‘You threw my textbook away when I tried to open it.’

‘Well, let’s not live in the past.’ he waved off your statement, holding out his hand for you to take. ‘Do you trust me?’

‘With what?’ you eyed him skeptically.

‘Jesus are you always this tense? It’s a yes or no question, doll.’

After a moments hesitation, you answered; ‘Yes… yes,I trust you.’ and took his hand.

That was all the confirmation he needed to yank you onto his lap, causing you to let out a little gasp. Sitting on Theo Nott’s lap was not how you envisioned spending your study session, but you were hardly complaining. The faint aroma of cigarettes and the sound of his racing heart should be distressing - a sign of danger, even - but you felt oddly calm. Your back was towards him so you were both facing the night sky as he asked, ‘Can you point out Andromeda for me?’

The feel of his hardening bulge underneath your ass had momentarily stunned you, and you stuttered trying to answer his question.

‘Just relax…’ his fingers caressed your exposed thighs comfortingly, slowly working their way upwards, meeting the hem of your mini skirt.

‘What are- shouldn’t we study first?’ You grabbed his wrist to stop his fingers going any higher.

When you said first, implying that you would be interested in having sex with him later, he felt his cock twitch. Finally, you were granting the opportunity for him to make you his. Luckily for the both of you, Theo was great at multitasking.

‘Tut tut, do you want to get better at astronomy or not?’

Well yes, but you couldn’t see how him touching you was going to help with that. ‘I-‘ you were cut off by your own whimper as you felt Theo’s fingers graze over your clit through your underwear.

‘Then let’s try again. Where’s Andromeda?’

At first, his fingers lightly circling your clit were too much of a distraction. It was obvious he had experience, because he knew exactly how hard to press to satisfy you but still keep you coherent. After a moment of getting used to the sensation, your brain was clear enough to answer his question so, using your finger, you traced the outline of the constellation in the sky.

‘That was correct, clever girl.’

‘Wait, really?’ you bounced up and down in excitement, making the boy underneath you groan at the feeling of you pressing on his hard cock. ‘How did you teach me to do that without teaching me anything?’

‘Your problem is you think too much. I thought if I helped you… relax, you’d be able to focus on astronomy a little better. Clearly, I was correct.’ Theo moved his hand inside your underwear and slipped a finger inside your wet hole. ‘Well done.’

Your mouth falls open at the feeling of his long finger deep inside your tight cunt, stroking your inner walls. As determined as you were to not be another one of his silly hookups, you couldn’t bring yourself to deny the pleasure he was giving you.

‘Fuck, doll, who knew a good girl like you would be this wet for someone like me.’

Theo’s finger teased you for the next twenty minutes as he asked you various Astronomy-related questions, which you answered correctly. He was right, you were clearly thinking too hard at something so simple, and his fingers pleasuring you rid you of all the unnecessary thoughts, allowing you to focus solely on the stars. Every now and then, Theo would increase the pressure on your clit or thrust his finger deeper, just to see you cut yourself off mid-sentence with a moan or a whimper induced by his touch.

‘Theo…’ you whined after answering a dozen questions about constellations, looking up at him. You were asking for something, but you weren’t quite sure what. Just something more.

He pushed a second finger inside you, curling them upwards into you slowly as his palm pressed against your clit. Watching you writhe on top of him and hearing you moan made his dick throb in his trousers, as he internally tried to decide between bringing you to your climax on his fingers first or just freeing his cock and fucking you raw right away.

‘Yeah, amore? You like being finger-fucked out in the open?’ he whispered, even though there was no chance of you being seen or heard by anyone at this time. His words went straight to your core and his previously slow pace started to quicken as he felt you clench around his digits. ‘Fuck- yes right there.’ you cried, feeling his long fingers hit that sweet spot deep inside you.

Not long after, he retracted his fingers, smearing your wetness on your clit teasingly before removing his hand from your underwear altogether. The new, empty feeling made you whimper.

‘Why’d you stop?’ you pouted breathlessly whilst you turned around in his lap, now straddling him.

Locking his eyes on yours, he brought the two fingers that were previously buried inside you to his lips and licked off all your juices. ‘So sweet.’ he muttered to himself, probably not intending for you to hear. ‘Because,’ he said louder, ‘I want to make you cum on my cock, if you’ll let me.’

Your eyes flick down to his now rock-hard erection, still trapped inside his trousers. ‘Yes, please…’

‘Atta girl… but first, let’s get these clothes out the way, shall we?’

You nodded frantically, tugging at the hem of his t shirt as he unbuttoned your blouse to reveal your tits sitting perfectly in a lacy white bra. ‘These are fucking gorgeous.’ he palmed them before reaching round to unclip your bra. ‘I can’t want to watch them bounce as I fuck you.’

He pulled away briefly to discard his own shirt before flipping you both over. How he revelled in the sight of you underneath him, all exposed and desperate. Theo knew that you weren’t like him; you weren’t the type to sleep around. He was honoured to be making you feel this good, and he wanted to make sure you had as much fun as he knew he would have.

After pulling off his trousers he guided your hand to his bulge, making you feel him through his boxers. ‘Can you feel how hard I am for you, amore? How desperate my cock is to sink itself into your pretty little cunt?’

He leaned down to give you a passionate kiss, his thumb finding its way to your clit. Your fingers found his waistband and tugged on it, indicating that you wanted him to discard them. He obliged.

Pulling away from the kiss, your jaw dropped as you saw his erection finally spring free, hitting his stomach. It was bigger than you could’ve imagined, and you suddenly found yourself conscious of how large he was in comparison to you.

‘Theo that is not gonna fit inside of me.’

‘Let’s find out, shall we?’ he yanked your skirt and your underwear down with one harsh tug, leaving you entirely on display for him. With one movement of his hips the tip of his cock found your dripping wet entrance, and he pushed it in it in ever so slightly. The stretch makes you moan; his cock was way thicker than his fingers. ‘See that, doll, your warm little cunt is practically pulling me in. I told you I know what’s best for you.’

Tugging at his brown curls at the back of his neck, you hum in agreement. ‘Please… I need you.’

‘I didn’t even have to ask you to say it that time.’ he grinned before he bottomed out inside of you making you cry out. A bulge was visible in your stomach where is cock was deep inside you, still whilst you adjusted to his size. ‘You okay, pretty girl?’ All you could do was nod, not trusting your mouth to form coherent words with the boy who was meant to tutor you buried to the hilt in your dripping wet cunt. ‘Words, please.’ he commanded as he grabbed your jaw to bring your face closer to his.

‘Yes I’m- I’m more than okay just please…’

‘Please what?’

‘Please fuck me.’ you said in a small voice, surprised at yourself for saying it outright. At your request he started to move, making you bite your lip to keep yourself from moaning at the sensation.

‘Don’t hold back, amore. Your sounds are as cute as your face, I wanna hear them all.’

And with that he began to pound in and out of you, immediately picking up a harsh pace. His large hands pinned your wrists on either side of your head so you could make no attempt to cover your flushed face or muffle your breathy moans. He was no hypocrite either, groaning into your ear letting you hear just how much he was enjoying fucking you raw.

It was even more erotic than he’d imagined. He’d managed to turn a tutoring session with the schools resident good girl and turn it into a scene straight out of a porno. The sight of your tits bouncing as your tight, warm cunt took his thick cock was one he wanted engrained in his memory. Fuck, if you weren’t on a hard wooden floor he’d be tossing your little body around in all sorts of positions. And god, how he wanted to taste you; to suck on your sensitive little clit and lick up your sweet juices. The opportunity hadn’t arose in this particular occasion, but it only motivated him to get you in bed again.

‘You feel fucking incredible.’ he groaned, earning only a whimper in response. ‘Bet you couldn’t answer any astronomy questions now, hm?’

You shook your head, your eyes fluttering shut as he hit that sweet spot deep inside of you. ‘N-no, I-‘ his pace didn’t falter as you felt yourself clenching around him, orgasm building up - if anything, it quickened.

‘Cos I’ve fucked you senseless, haven’t I?’ Although you could hear him, you couldn’t respond. His voice was muffled and your vision was clouded, your pleasure was so overwhelming, you couldn’t think straight. ‘You like going dumb on my dick?’

Theo could tell you were close, so he brought a thumb to your clit, adding pressure in circular motions. That’s all it took for your orgasm to come crashing over you. ‘Theo, I’m-‘

‘Do it. Let go. Cum for me.’

And you do. Just as he promised, you swore you saw stars whilst he fucked you through your high and chased his own. He didn’t slow down to accommodate your now increased sensitivity - his need almost became primal as his thrusts got sloppier the closer he got. ‘Gonna fill you up with my cum, doll. Real deep.’ he grunted in your ear, feeling his own orgasm building. The pressure from your tight cunt felt like heaven to him, but mostly it was the way you were looking at him that pushed him over the edge, like he’d just taken you places you didn’t know you could go.

You both moaned as you felt his hot cum spill into you, marking you as his. And you were his, now. He’d ruined you for anybody else; he’d moulded you to fit him perfectly.

After pulling out, he laid down on his side next to you, tracing mindless circles around your navel.

‘That,’ you inhaled shakily, ‘was amazing. Are you okay?’

His eyes, which had previously been fixed on the sight of his cum leaking out of your hole, snapped up to you. By the looks of it, people don’t normally ask him that after sex, and you immediately felt as though you’d said something wrong. That was, until you felt his hand cup your cheek. ‘Careful, doll, you’re really making me want to keep you.’

‘What?’ you roll onto your side to face him.

‘Nothing.’ he sighed in content. ‘I’m great, are you okay?’

‘Amazing. Same time next week?’ you attempted to joke.

‘Same time tomorrow.’

[slu7formen]

MDNI. luke castellan x fem!reader

just luke discovering he might have a praise kink with you. lord have mercy.

warnings: praise kink, dom!luke, pet names, unprotected p in v (don’t), oral s3x (m receiving)

reminder: english’s not my first language so I apologize for any spelling mistakes

₊˚⊹♡

“Ah. Fuck, baby, do that again”

Luke let out another strangled moan when you gagged around his cock, your throat tightening. He couldn’t believe you would do anything he asked you to.

It happened every single time. You would literally say yes to anything, the only thing he was sure you were not gonna agree to, was to having sex with him.

Boy, was he wrong.

Now he had you on your knees in his cabin, gagging around him over and over again until he wanted to ask you to stop, but how could he? Everything about this was heavenly to him; your warm mouth, the tears in the corner of your eyes, your swollen lips, your nails digging into his thighs whenever you felt him too deep inside your mouth, his hand wrapping around your hair in a loose ponytail and push your head further into him.

But this wasn’t about him, as much as he wanted it to be. He had promised to fuck you earlier during a potent training session, a promise you would not let slip from your mouth until it happened. And it didn’t, yet.

And he didn’t know why he said it, he really didn’t know, but the way your eyes lit up as if he was a god you could worship, the way there was a sparkle held in them, so bright yet so appealing. You looked inviting to him, he wanted to eat you alive, but he knew that things had flipped the other way around when he said it. He had just gently asked you to stop sucking him off; that was it. But Gods, what came after…

“There you go” he cooed, gently pushing your head back. “Good girl”

It made your guts spin in a way it never happened before.

Luke didn’t know what got into you. You were suddenly out of breath, your chest pressed against your tight t-shirt suddenly stopping its movements and you just stared at him in awe.

He got scared.

“Are you okay?” he gently asked, attempting to place a stray of your hair behind your ear, but he only reached to cup your jaw before you spoke.

“Call me that again”

He tilted his head, confused.

“What?”

You sighed. “Call me that again” you repeated, voice thick with desperation. “Please?”

Luke hesitated, unsure or what to make of your request. His mind raced with questions, but deep down, he couldn´t deny the thrill that suddenly coursed through his body. He leaned in, elbows resting on his knees, as he raised one of his fingers to trail it down your jaw. “Good girl” he said.

The effect was instantaneous. Your breath hitched, and your eyes fluttered shut at his tender touch, a soft whimper escaping your lips.

A dark chuckle erupted from him, a mean action. A fucking praise kink, you had to be joking. He didn´t know how to feel about it, mainly because he didn´t expect you to be into this type of stuff. But as he started to dig into his mind; how your cheeks flustered red when someone complimented your skills, how you smiled sweetly whenever people praised your new techniques, or the way you styled your hair, or how good you dressed. He had it all in front of his nose and never saw it.

But he also realized, you didn´t want this from anyone. You wanted it from him; his words, his validation, his encouragement, his approval. You wanted him to tell you how good you were, you wanted him.

He brushed his thumb over your lip. “My beautiful baby” he whispered with desire. “All you want to be is good to me, right?”

You opened your eyes slowly, cheeks flushing red. Your heart raced with excitement when you nodded eagerly, unable to deny the truth on his words. All you wanted was to please him, to be everything he wanted and more. You saw his grin widened when he flickered his eyes into yours, then back to your lips. He leaned in more, brushing his pink and puffy lips against yours.

“You´re so needy for me” he murmured in a seductive tone. “But I like it. I like knowing that what you crave are my words. That you´ll do anything to please me”

Your body hummed in anticipation due to the intensity of his words. You tried to lean further into his touch, you wanted more. Luke´s finger trailed down the column of your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “Tell me what you want, baby” he whispered.

Your head was spinning, leaving you breathless for a moment. “I want you” you confessed in a tiny voice. “I want you to take me, to show me that I´m yours”

“Show you that you´re mine?” he repeated, the mockery evident in his voice. But your eyes glistened, shining with tiny tears due to the previous work he had put you through, and because of the sudden fear that you might have taken it too far. It wasn´t your fault though, it was what you felt. The need to please Luke in any way you could was always there, always with you, and now that you had the chance to do it, you and only you, you didn´t wanna miss it. So, as you looked up at him in awe, mesmerized by his features and figure, like a god, he pressed his thumb over the tiny bit of mascara that had escaped your eyes, removing it, he said; “I can do that”

And he did.

It was not hard to fall into Luke Castellan´s arms and have the need to stay there forever. He was poison, intoxicating in the best possible way. His scent, his touch, his presence —, everything about him had you under his spell, captivated by his allure, by the need to belong to him completely.

With one hand pressed on the back of your head and the other holding a tight grip on your hip, Luke moved with a primal, almost animalistic intensity that left you gasping for air in between the pillows. He sent waves through your body with each thrust, along with a tight feeling on your belly every time the tip of his cock hit that sweet spot.

And his words never seemed to stop.

“You´re doing so good, doll. Behaving like the good little girl you are” he murmured under his breath, loud enough for you to hear.

He had gotten rid of your clothes long ago, after giving you the most intense orgasm thanks to his skilled tongue and fingers, now the only piece of clothing covering your body being your panties, messily pulled to the side, growing damp at scratching Luke´s cock with every snap of his hips.

He was growing his praise to you unconsciously, he had to close his eyes many times to prevent himself from exploding into you. You were just so fucking beautiful, he could just cum due to the sight of you; your hair messily flying over your sweaty back, your hands gripping the sheets, the way your flesh squished together when you squirmed or when his hand would grip tighter.

He had to let you know, eventually. “This fucking body is a crime, baby” he cooed. “It´s so perfect. You´re perfect, taking my cock so fucking well”

Luke´s words sent a cold jolt through your body, electrifying every nerve and sending you further into ecstasy. You felt his words dripping down your spine, flames burning like the intense desire in between you two.

“God, Luke” you managed to choke out. “Don´t stop, please”

He responded with a low growl, his movements becoming more urgent as he began to chase down his own release. Your cunt tightened around him more every time, gripping on his cock inside you in a wet and warm embrace that dripped down your thighs. Each thrust was more intense than the last, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

As your bodies moved In perfect synchrony, the room filled with the sound of skin to skin, punctuated by the symphony of your moans and Luke´s ragged breaths.

“I can´t hold back much longer” Luke confessed, his voice strained with effort. “You feel too damn good”

You clung to him desperately, nails digging into the flesh of one of his thighs as you urged him on. And then, with a final, desperate cry, you tumbled over the edge, body twitching momentarily. Luke followed close behind, his own climax crashing over him like a wave, and inside you.

As your pleasure subsided, you collapsed into each other´s arms, and for a moment, there was nothing but the sound of your ragged breaths as you lay there, bodies still sweaty and shaky due to the aftershock of such an electric moment.

You laughed then, a hand covering your face. “What?” Luke asked, a confused smile painted on his face.

“Nothing” you shrugged off, turning your neck towards him, a shy smile in your mouth. “You´re too good at this”

[catscidr]

// the fatui's alcohol tolerance and drinking habits //  

i. note — after writing this post i started thinking about how the other harbingers would tolerate alcohol and then.... but this is also because of a lovely commenter on ao3, thank u pookie for enabling me ♡ ii. includes — all of the harbingers + pierro and the tsaritsa. gn!reader iii. cw — not proofread, alcohol, various fuckery and headcanons. crack. that's it iv. wc — 1,2k

丑角/Pierro, The director. 

-> tolerance: 8/10, high.   -> habits: has an entire wine cellar in the zapolyarny palace and owns a vineyard southern of snezhnaya. one of his hobbies consist of wine-testing; he’s the kind of person to cleanse his palate with a small sip that he swooshes in his mouth, then swirls his glass to observe the coat, sniffs the wine, takes another sip- you get it. if you asked, he would recommend you a wine based on your taste. you want something sweet but not dry? try dessert wines. want something a little more on the bitter side? get yourself a malbec from argentina. 

he hates anything that isn’t wine. don’t even try to give him a beer, he’ll look down at you with the most vicious glare you’ll feel sorry for being born. 

队长 /Il Capitano, The first. 

-> tolerance: 10/10, very high.  -> habits: doesn’t see the point of drinking so he never has a glass in his hands from his own volition. if he’s drinking it’s either because some coworkers managed to get him to come out for drinks, because he caught one of his agents drinking on the job and decided to have a drink as well, or because you convinced him to drink with you. 

his drink of choice is literally just any hard liquor, he doesn’t really care for taste. everyone is under the impression that he can’t get drunk, but some people just take it as an invitation to try to get him shitfaced (it never works out). 

博士/Il Dottore, The second. 

-> tolerance: 3/10, very low.  -> habits: never drinks and doesn’t see the point in it anyways, because it’ll only hinder his cognitive functions (you tried convincing him that he can get different perspectives that way. you were swiftly rewarded with a flick on the forehead). on top of that, he just can’t really handle alcohol so why purposely leave himself vulnerable like that. he didn’t care enough to give himself a higher tolerance for it when he modified his body, apparently. would probably be the designated driver if he went out to a bar (if he were invited in the first place. if he accepted the invitation, second.) 

the kind of person to get weirdly tipsy after two white claws. 

少女/Columbina, The third. 

-> tolerance: ?/10. What.  -> habits: o̴̻̒f̴̭͋f̵̣͝ė̵͎r̴̻̄ĭ̵̙ñ̶̥g̸͙͋ ̵̦͆ḫ̸̏e̷̺̊r̶̳̈́ ̴͖̓ä̷͖ ̷͓͆d̴̜̆r̴̡̄i̷̪͝n̵͕͂k̵̠̄ ̴͈̈́ŵ̵̭ȉ̶̺l̸̩̃l̵̲̈́ ̵͖͝ö̸̪n̸̘͝l̸̺̈ỹ̷̹ ̴͑͜ṡ̸̞p̵̪͆e̶͈̊l̵͈͌l̶̜͗ ̵̣̌y̵̢͒ŏ̴͔u̴̹͐ŗ̶̀ ̶͎̈d̶̥͑ö̷̧o̶͓̕m̵̘̃.̷̡̽ ̵͙̐ý̴̟o̸̻͝u̵̳͘ ̶̙́s̴̠̿h̶̡͋a̴̫͊l̶̮̾l̷̳̃ ̷͓͝n̶͕͝o̶̢̓ț̵̏ ̶̞͋w̷̹͝i̶̦̚ṫ̴̪n̸̖̉e̶̢͝s̸̝̕s̸͉͒ ̵̗̈́h̸͜͝ě̵̝r̷͙̉ ̶̭̃h̵͍͒o̶̠̅l̸̗͂i̴̞̕n̷͚̓ẽ̴͙s̵̙̀s̵̖̄ ̷̟͐ć̵͈ó̴̭n̴̙̾s̶̠͋ũ̷̙m̷̬̈́ì̷ͅn̶̯͛g̸̯̔ ̴̨͝t̶͙̕h̴̢͝e̵͔̋ ̵̖̀d̵̖͛ë̷͖́v̵̯͂ii̵͖̿q̵̯̽ŭ̴̺o̶͖̔r̵̠̒.̶̺͒ ̵̙͘l̵͑͜e̸̖͗a̷̞͝v̷̉ͅe̵̮̕ ̸̦̎h̸̩̎e̴̪̐r̸̰̀ ̷̩͠b̷̛̥ĕ̸ͅ ̸̪͒e̴̜͂l̸͖̄s̴͖̆ẽ̷̝ ̸̘͘y̸̹̋ô̴̺ṷ̷̓r̸̭̈́ ̸̜̅l̶͖̾i̵͇͘f̵͉̔e̵̜̚s̷̖̏p̴̫̈́ä̷̬́n̷͔͌ ̴̰̑w̵͝ͅȋ̶̫l̶̛̯ḷ̸͒ ̸̡̊s̷̹͠h̶̭͋o̶̹͆r̵̮͂t̵̥̽é̴̡ṉ̷͌ ̶͕̑ĉ̸̰ǫ̶̈́n̶̔͜s̸̺̃i̷͌͜d̸͚̂e̵̺͊r̸̺̄ą̸̆b̷̲͘ḻ̸̎y̶̠͂.̴̣̉ 

in her free time, she likes to practice her bartending skills, like making fresh piña coladas! 

仆人/Arlecchino, The fourth. 

-> tolerance: 8/10, high.  -> habits: likes to unwind with a glass of wine in her office while overlooking a multitude of paperwork. never drinks enough to get tipsy, but she could if she were surrounded by the right company...? if she wanted to, she could probably enter a drinking competition and win, though. whatever that means 

has let some children of the house of the hearth try wine. finds the grimaces they pull after a sip very amusing 

公鸡/Pulcinella, The fifth. 

-> tolerance: 6/10, moderate.  -> habits: the kind of man to drink wine with his meals, but he won’t have more than one and a half—two if he’s feeling particularly pent up. his tolerance isn’t that good because of his weight, unsurprisingly.  he doesn’t get invited to go out for drinks because he always ends up indulging just a bit too much. he then acts like a disappointed dad to everyone in the vicinity.

0/10 don’t bring him to a bar unless you want to be scolded for breathing.

国崩/Scaramouche, The sixth. 

-> tolerance: 4/10, low.  -> habits: hates alcohol but is weirdly competitive when it comes to it, if he’s with the right people. sort of. although alcohol doesn’t affect him in the same way it does regular people, it still makes him feel gross enough to not want to be near it. if he had to pick a drink it would be something like an aperol spritz. he’d wait like thirty minutes before drinking it, letting the bubbles fizz out a bit. hates the “taste” of carbonation with a passion.

don’t even try to get him to try give him a beer, he’ll turn it into a molotov cocktail 

木偶/Sandrone, The seventh. 

-> tolerance: 4/10, low.  -> habits: similar to il dottore, she hates drinking because it impairs her genius mind, but she’ll go out if only to make fun of drunk people (it rarely ever happens anyways). if she’s stuck with a drink in her hands for some reason, she’ll make the dapper ruin guard that’s at her side dispose of it for her. 

will it literally throw it away or will it dispose of it in a less destructive way? don’t stick around to find out. 

淑女/La Signora, The eighth. 

-> tolerance: 8/10, high.  -> habits: similar to arlecchino, she enjoys a good red wine occasionally. the only difference is that she needs to have it while bathing in the most expensive bath salts accompanied by so many candles it would be a hazard for her lungs. the queen of being a diva, has perfected the art of swirling wine in a glass while listening to jazzy music. 

absolutely adores dandelion wine; she always buys crates upon crates despite the ridiculous import fees. has one from so long ago you’re surprised the bottle hasn’t disintegrated yet—the name Rostam is engraved into it. 

富人/Pantalone, The ninth. 

-> tolerance: 7/10, moderate.  -> habits: probably the only normal one out of the bunch (which says a lot). whenever he drinks he always ends up tipsy, and when he’s tipsy, that façade he wears crumbles at the speed of light. gone are the strained fake smiles for politeness’ sake, in are the loud, angry rants about annoying clients. he won’t stop until his voice starts straining from usage. 

his go-to drink is literally whatever expensive wine he can get his hands on; he’ll drink with pierro and analyze wines, on occasion. don’t join them, you’ll die of boredom. 

公子/Tartaglia, The eleventh. 

-> tolerance: 9/10, very high. Debatable.  -> habits: you wouldn’t believe that he can handle alcohol better than most people because every time he drinks, he always gets shitfaced. he’ll insist he’s just testing his limits and building a higher tolerance. don’t bring him out for drinks with il capitano, he’ll inhale 5 shots of fire water in a couple of minutes to “convince” the first that he’s strong. it never works. 

probably the best person to go to a bar with, if you manage to go on a day where he didn’t wake up with the urge to get so stupidly plastered that he’ll try to fight every single man in the building. don’t let him try to show off, there aren’t many bars left that haven’t banned him yet. 

Царица , The Tsaritsa. 

-> tolerance: ?/10. What²  -> habits: ṯ̵̿ḧ̸̤́i̷̹͊s̴̠͐ ̷̧̍i̵̦͝ṡ̴̼ ̵̪͛ä̶̙́n̵͙͆ ̴͆ͅȃ̶͓s̵̜̅s̴̫̀a̵͑ͅs̵̡̓s̷͇̈́í̷̹n̷͕͠a̷̛̱ṱ̴͘i̷̡̕ō̴̻ń̷ͅ ̶͍̃a̵̧͝ṭ̶͝t̶̮̏e̴͉͑m̵̮̈p̵̰̕t̶̼̔.̸̯͆ ̵̗̔y̵̖͝ó̶̡u̶͇͑ ̵̜͌ẁ̶̘ï̵̢l̶̥̈l̶̲͐ ̴̩̔b̴̪͋e̸͎͌ ̷̲̑p̷̲̋r̴̦͐o̷̙͐m̵̟͝p̴͔͛t̷͔̂l̶̪̏y̶̖͂ ̶͊ͅd̵͉̓ỉ̵͔s̵̩̕p̴͖͐o̶͈͘s̵͌ͅḛ̴͂d̶̺̊ ̴̯̓ơ̵̺f̶̠́ ̵̈́͜a̴͙̎t̵̠͋ ̵̲̈ō̵͉n̴̨̒c̸̭͛ê̵͎.̶͓͘ ̵͇̃y̷̡̆ő̵͍ű̸̮ ̸̙͌c̶͈̔ȧ̷̳n̴͍̎ṅ̵͖ŏ̷̪t̵͉͝ ̸̩̇r̷͈̈́u̷͍͝n̷͔̿.̵̮͘ ̷͕̈́w̸̼̄h̴̥̏ý̵̘ ̷͇̀d̶͉̋ii̷̭̎n̶͙̎k̷̢̀ ̵̢̐c̷̣̀o̴͖̍ḿ̵̹i̵̥͘n̵̲̈g̸̫̒ ̵̠̏iͅií̷͎ť̴̻t̷̛̠y̴̟͝ ̴͖̑c̶͔̎o̴̮̽r̷̬̐ñ̴͖e̶͙͒ŕ̵̥ ̴͈̾s̶̙͊t̶̛̫ò̸̲r̶̺͊e̶̮͆ ̶̣̃b̷̰͘ḙ��͘e̸̖̕ṛ̸̏ ̵̖̓ẃ̷̞a̷͕͐s̶̳͆ ̵̘̾a̶͔̓ ̵̣͛g̴̰͐o̴͕̊o̵̲̾d̸̦̔ ̴͓͗i 

drinks wine with la signora and arlecchino sometimes! their girls' nights only happen once in a blue moon and she doesn’t drink much, but she enjoys the slight buzz from a good red wine nonetheless. 

[lcriedlastnight]

Y/n thinks Lando wants nothing to do with her so she goes on a date with someone else and Lando angrily comes to crash it

amazing idea! thanks for your request anon! also i listened to this song while i wrote this and i think it goes so well!

tw: fem!reader, swears, miscommunication i think, idk lmk if you want me to add anything.

w/c: 1.7k

"this is actually exciting! how long as it been since you've been on a date?" your friend asks as she curls a piece of your soft hair around her hair curler. you shrug, a little embarrassed at how long it has been since someone had asked you out. you had invited your best friend to come over and help you get ready. it was some guy called jamie that had asked you out and you were almost certain he was an engineer in the mclaren garage.

so when you both hear a knock at the door two hours before he was supposed to pick you up, you are both in a tizzy. your friend almost burned your neck with the scorching hot curling wand. you throw the nearest thing you can find over the top of your - quite revealing- top. it happens to be a black t-shirt lando had left at yours the last time he had stayed over.

the british driver was the sole reason why you had never been on a date with a guy for a whole two years. you had been friends since his f1 debut but just shy of a year ago, things progressed between the two of you. lando had gotten second in his home race and he was over the moon. you had finally been able to make it to the race, your work schedule finally clearing up in your favour for the first time in a while. to make an incredibly long and complex story short, you had ended up friends with benefits. your agreement had lasted up until last week. the rules were you two had to end things before seeing anyone else but you were to stay friends no matter what and of course, lando had found some girl he wanted to take out so he broke things off. it broke you. you knew falling for lando was a stupid thing to do and you really did try not to but it was difficult, he was lando, he was one of your best friends for a reason. so when jamie asked you out, you had jumped at the chance to try and get over your curly haired best friend.

you open the door to see none other than lando on the opposite side.

"hey, you look good, where you going?" he asks as he walks past you and into your apartment. you roll your eyes at him letting himself in. what was even the point of knocking in the first place?

"she's got a date and we're in the middle of getting ready right now." your friend sasses lando as she emerges from your room, her 'getting ready' playlist, as she had dubbed it, was still blaring in the room. lando looks up at you from his spot on your couch. his eyes narrow.

"a date?" the boy questions. you furrow your brows, unsure at what he is trying to get at.

"yes. a date. you know, like the one you went on last week? one of those." your a little teasing as you throw your words at him. lando rolls his eyes.

"yeah yeah i know what a date is, i'm just confused. i didn't know you were looking to date?" lando says and you were probably making it up but you swore you could sense some hurt in his voice. yeah there was no way that lando was hurt that you were going on a date, he had literally done the same thing and broken it off with you to do so, last week!

"i'm not looking to date. i got asked out and i said yes." you explain even though you don't really need to explain yourself. lando didn't with you.

"you never say yes. who asked you out?" lando interrogates you, it annoyed you to no end.

"does it really matter? i think he's nice. i never asked you all these questions when you went out on your date last week, did i?" you roll your eyes, walking back over to your friend, silently letting her know you wanted to go back through to your room to get ready and to fet away from lando. you don't wait to listen to see if lando responds - he doesn't anyway, keeping quiet. he knew you were right. it was wrong to act like this, to act jealous of this guy, not when you guys weren't even serious. not that you seen it that way. to you, lando was just being protective.

you sit back down with a sigh, while your friend returns to curling your hair. your friend tries to distract you from whatever just happened with lando as you turn the music up and try to get excited for your date. it gets a little hard when there is a lull in the conversation between the two of you and your mind starts working overtime. you start to wonder if lando would even want anything to do with you after him and this girl get closer. you have always dreaded the day one of lando's girlfriends would want you two to create some distance between you both. you had a sneaky feeling that it would be sooner rather than later.

the timing is perfect as you hear several knocks at your door just as your spraying your favourite gucci perfume lando had gotten you from christmas. even going on a date with someone else, lando was with you the whole time. you answer the door with a smile on your face, jamie returning it.

your friend and lando are sat on your couch watching a random show lando had put on while waiting for you to get ready. he did want to apologise but your date was here and he would rather do it just the two of you anyway. when the brunette seen it was one of the mclaren engineers, he feels the anger swell up inside of him. that should be him, lando had finally realised in that moment, lightbulb lighting up in his brain.

you go off with jamie, his arm interlocked with yours. he takes you to some fancy restaurant not too far away. he talks the full time about his job as an engineer and how exciting it was moving from race to race with the mclaren drivers. he babbles on and on about how he has been interested in motorsports since he was a child and how working with an actual formula one team had been his dream since forever. all the guy spoke about was himself. not once asking you about yourself or your own job. you had tried to get a word in but it was difficult when he just did not stop talking about himself since you both had sat down. the only time he was not talking was when his mouth was full of food.

you had gotten maybe halfway through your main course before you hear heavy footsteps heading towards your general direction. jamie is still talking away about how he got his degree and how amazing school was for him like you were actually listening and if he even spared a glance in your direction then he would be able to tell by your face that absolutely were not, in any way shape or form, listening. you probably had not even taken a word in since before the starters.

the footsteps get closer until they stop at your table. you look up and your eyes meet lando's furious ones. you were confused as to why he was angry but you were sure you were both (and maybe the entire restaurant) were about to find out.

"what the fuck are you doing?" lando asks you. this finally made jamie stop talking. you could kiss lando for many different reasons, the main one being he looked hot when he was angry.

"me? what am i doing?" you ask. lando nods his head. "i'm on my date. the one i said i was going on."

lando scoffs. "with one of my engineers? you're doing this to get back at me for ending things." lando straight up accuses you. you gasp up at him, dumbfounded. this causes jamie to speak up again and ask "you two were a thing? i didn't know," he looks at lando "seriously, man i didn't know, she didn't say anything. if i knew i would never have asked her out."

lando just stares at the man. his hand then digs into his pocked and fishes out his wallet, throws cash down on the table, grabs your hand pulling you out of your chair and drags you out the restaurant. once outside and away from anyone, you pull your hand out of his grasp.

"what are you doing? i told you i was going on a date! you have no right to act like this!" you shout at him, finger pointing at him.

lando's eyes roll. "yeah but you didn't mention it was with someone i work with. you are clearly trying to get back at me for going on a date with that girl and ending things with you." lando accuses you again.

"how is that me getting back at you? i already told you i don't care who you want to date. kiss who you want i couldn't care less." you lie straight to his face and lando can tell straight away. instead of arguing about it with you though. he mumbles "i wanna kiss you." then pushes you against the brick wall, gently before his lips are attacking yours. he leaves little nips and bites as he kisses you harshly. letting a bit of his frustrations because of the lost time between the two of you, out in the kiss. you kiss back just and hard. your hands clutch at his shirt as he holds your hips in place against the wall. lando pulls away panting, his forehead resting on yours.

"m'so sorry. i couldn't stand the thought of you with someone else. then i realised that's probably how you felt with me too, then i just had to see you and stop you from spending anymore time with him." lando explains, a little guilty. you smile as you let your hand come up to stroke his eyebrow gently.

"he was a fucking bore anyways." you tell lando who laughs as he leans in for another kiss.

[peachysunrize]

The other Woman ⥃ senator! Aemond Targaryen

Summary: you were supposed to be a secret, his temptation in the dark not his scandal after the taste of heaven you experienced together.

Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut smut, like literally so much smut, p in v, angst (so much angst), age gap (Aemond is 36 reader is 25. It’s not specified but since he’s a candidate he should be over 35), cheating & infidelity, heavy alcohol consumption (one scene), breeding, humiliation (a little bit), oral (f & m receiving ), rough sex, illicit affair, modern westerosi senator Aemond (doing this because I have no idea about real life election and political debates and how they take place and I can change it however I like), near death experience, car accident and driving while drunk, hurt/comfort, happy ending!! English isn’t my first language.

Word count: 8.58k+ (no beta we die like Beesburybury)

A/n: so, this thought was originally a very dark concept, but I changed it because now it’s much more interesting than the first one lol. Long, smutty, angst! The whole political idea is a sideline for the plot but it gives you an idea of what kind of Aemond we’re dealing with! Please reblog and comment and tell me your opinion!

A very special thank you to @namelesslosers for putting up with my crazy ideas<3😭💕

Every time you walk through this hallway, you ask yourself how you got into this situation. Perhaps it was at the first debate when you met him backstage; tall, dark, brooding, and quiet with a lazy smirk on his thin lips, as he pressed a gentle kiss atop your knuckles, side-eyeing your seething father in the process.

Maybe it was when you ran into him at another party, courtesy of being a senator's daughter and getting invited with high-class families. Your father had sent you there, “showing face” he explained, but you knew he wanted information. Aemond had danced around you that night, knowing exactly why you were there, talking and leading you on with conversations in the dark hallway of the mansion you were in.

It could have been the second debate as well. This time, it was not just backstage, but when he saw you in that denty dress you were wearing, he had cornered you and kept his heated gaze on your lips for a hot minute before he reached and pressed his thumb over your pillowy bottom lip.

Does it matter how it started? Certainly not, not when it’s been a good few months since this thing has been going on.

You stop in front of the hotel room; the only suite on the floor. Always cautious, always careful. You’ve been sneaking into this floor for weeks, entering the hotel from the back door to not be seen, taking the workers’ elevator and now, alone in the middle of this red carpeted floor, you ask yours again how you got yourself into this position. And the second you knock, all the worries and fears vanish.

Aemond opens the door, his cigarette burning between his long fingers as he gazes at you. His white shirt is untucked and unbuttoned, his dress pants already tightened by his bubbling desire for you while he waited for hours to get out of his speech and meet with you.

He doesn’t say anything, pulling you in with his free hand, kicking the door shut before he pushes you against it, leaning over you with his forearm on the door and the other on your hip.

“Rough day?” You ask, running your palms over the pale skin of his abs, caressing his chest and stomach as you look up at him through your lashes.

“Your father was unnerving today,” he rests his forehead on yours, breathing in your perfume, “I broke the pen when he started talking about how he’d do everything I wanted to do but better. Who makes a political debate like that? He can’t even stand for what he has planned to do.”

“He has the talent of getting under everyone’s skin, it doesn’t help that he’s a jealous man as well,” you cup his cheek, running the pad of your thumb over his high cheekbones.

“He does, a trait I’m sure I have seen in someone as well,” he bends down, prepping kisses over your cheek, “he told me I was too perfect to become a president. I have no fucking idea what he is after. He talks about me all the time instead of his plans, I think he’s obsessed with me.”

“Pity, I would have loved to see his face when he said that, knowing that the person he called perfect fucks his daughter every day,” you giggle when he bites down on your neck, making you hiss and thread your fingers through his long blonde hair.

“What were you doing if you weren't watching me beat your father to the pulp?” He keeps his assault on your neck, leaving marks and little swollen bites. He breaks away from your skin to take a drag of his cigarette, wrapping his thin pink lips around the paper edges as he inhales the smoke in, a deep hum drumming through his chest when he leans and presses his lips to yours, blowing the smoke into your eager mouth.

You pull him closer, lapping at his tongue while you inhale the burning smoke, moaning in protest when he breaks the kiss sooner than you wished for. You blow out the remaining smoke to his face, biting your bottom lip as you find his good eye taking every inch of you in with his blown and foggy pupil.

“I was buying pretty dresses for you,” you whisper against his lips before grabbing his hand and pulling him gently toward the bedroom, watching with hazy eyes as he inhales another pile of smoke, keeping his eye locked on the exposed skin of your shoulders.

He loves it when you wear dresses that leave your neck and shoulders bare; it’s tantalizing and alluring in the best way possible. They make him lose the tiny self-control he has and let go of his burdens and responsibilities. He likes how free you make him feel, younger and livelier.

“Hmm?” You giggle when he doesn’t realize what question you are responding to, already too drunk on your scent that has his mind in a mush.

“You asked what I was doing,” you guide him towards the bed, “I was shopping for your upcoming party, Mr. Senator. I have a public image to maintain.” “Yes, but not with flaunting yourself like a slut,” he hisses when you push him down on the mattress, and he takes his cigar and puts it out by pressing it on the ashtray atop his nightstand with a bit of difficulty.

“Don’t be mean, sir,” faking a pout, you unzip your dress slowly, knowing how possessive he can get even though you are not his in the eyes of the public, “it’s all for you anyway, I like to see your face when I come with my friends to your mansion, all dolled up just for you but no one can know.” “Ah yes, I often forget how much you enjoy being my mistress,” he says, licking his lips when you kick off your shoes and crawl onto his lap, his large warm palms coming up to rest on your bare hips.

“Don’t put all the blame on me, you said you’d never slept with your wife!” You push him on his back, grinning as you let your nails deep in his soft exposed skin, “You were the one who begged me to sleep with you anyway!”

“Hmm, and I’m glad that I did,” he smirks at you, pinching your hips, making you gasp, “now, I’ve had a very rough day with your father, be a good girl and take my mind off everything else that isn’t your sweet pussy.”

You nod obediently before starting to grind your clothed sex over the tent in his pants, moving your hips slowly but firmly, eliciting a deep groan from Aemond as he lies beneath you with his silver hair spread around his head like a shiny halo. You lean down, leaving kisses over his chest and abdomen as you slowly lower yourself on the floor, running your hands all over his thighs and slim waist, nuzzling your face into his crotch, and looking at him oh so sweetly when he sits up.

Aemond pushes your hair out of your face, running the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip as he watches you prep kisses over the fabric of his pants, fingers fidgeting with his belt, and once you have successfully undid it, you pull it out of the loops and drop it on the floor.

He chuckles lowly when you grab his zipper with your teeth, pulling it down slowly while you stare into his eye — the blue of his iris is completely gone. You pull his pants down when he unbuttons them, lifting his hips in the process for you. Aemond sighs as soon as his cock is free from the confines of his pants, closing his eye as the cool air of the room hits his heated skin. 

“No underwear?” You tease him, reaching to hold his hot and twitching member in your hand, stroking it to full hardness while your free hand rubs soothing circles on his hip bone.

“The weather is too hot to wear anything under these horrendous dress pants,” he replies breathlessly when you lean down and start trailing kitten kisses from the base of his cock up to his tip, humming at the earthy and musky scent.

“And here I thought you were too desperate to give me easy access,” you mutter, taking his tip in your mouth, not letting him come up with a witty answer.

Aemond leans on his elbows, his hand finding its place on top of your head, not pushing down, but just to show you who’s in charge. His chest rises and falls rapidly when you swirl your tongue around him slowly, rubbing the tip of your tongue on the right places that you know make him weak and needy.

He groans, pushing your head down a little; a quick warning for you to remember that a dragon has no patience when the smell of fresh meat fills its senses.

You oblige, taking more of him in your mouth, relaxing your jaw, and guiding him further down your throat with both hands on the base of his cock, stroking what you can’t fit. He angles your face upwards, forcing you to look him in the eye as he fills your mouth and stretches your jaw with his girth.

“I will never get tired of this sight, fuck—” he throws his head back, his exhales getting sharper and deeper, “If only your father could see you like this; his daughter sucking off his enemy like it’s her last meal.”

You moan around him, brows twisted in a deep frown and eyes teary as he pushes you down, bobbing your head along his length at a pace he likes. In return, he rewards you with grunts and puffs of air that rumble through his chest and make you even more determined to bring him closer to his peak, but he pulls you off him as soon as he feels his dick twitching in your mouth, not wanting to come before he fucks you senseless.

You gasp for air when he pulls out, a string of saliva connecting your swollen lips to the head of his glistening cock. He pulls you up by your hair, smashing his lips into yours, pulling you in for a deep messy kiss as he helps you straddle him again. You sit with your knees on each side of his hips, cupping his face in the process while your lips move languidly, fiercely, and harshly. The kiss is full of clashes of teeth and molding of tongues and wetness, something you both enjoy deeply.

Aemond’s hands wander over your naked form, squeezing your buttocks and scratching the dip of your waist with his trimmed nails before he switches your position and lies you down on the bed without breaking off the kiss. Spreading your legs for him, he moves and makes home between them quickly, rubbing his leaking cock to your clothed pussy, growling inside your mouth in desperation.

You pull your lips away from his lips, mouth falling open immediately when he nuzzles his face into your neck and starts sucking and biting on your flesh like a rabid dog, not letting go of your skin until he’s sure there are big and small blue and violet marks littered all over you.

“Fuck, Aemond just—ah!” You whimper when his long fingers rub over the wet patch on your panties, pressing and moving them up and down until you buck your hips to his hand, searching for more stimulation that he is depriving you of.

“Tsk tsk, use your words, darling,” he says, sinking his teeth into your earlobe while he moves your panties to the side, hovering his thumb over the hood of your clit, “how can I give into your every whim when you can’t speak up for you so?” He sounds disappointed, and it only brings tears to your eyes — more tears, considering he had you near crying when he was fucking your face.

“Please, I-I need…” you are cut off by a sharp gasp leaving your lips as Aemond’s thumb rubs around your puffy clit, not giving into your sweet whines and whimpers, not even caring how tempting they sound. 

“Sweet girl, come on, tell me, do you want me to play with your pretty cunt? Hmm?” He asks in a serious tone, too serious for your liking, because when you look up at him with pouting and watery eyes, he tsks again, and you can feel the heat of his thumb near where you need him the most, but his finger is too far away.

“Yes, yes, please—“

“There is my good girl,” he kisses your tears away, finally caving in and giving you what you need, circling over your buzzing nerves gently but slowly, just the right way to have your mind shutting off to the point of the only thought that is left is him and his magical fingers.

You buck beneath him, wrapping one arm around his shoulder and the other one grabbing his waist as he keeps his thumb pressed firmly into your clit, pressing kisses all over your tear-stained cheeks.

“Mmm, tastes so sweet, darling,” he whispers as he licks your tears, pushing a finger inside you as if testing the waters before adding another, scissoring your open for his cock slowly, thrusting them in and out faster than before.

“Aemond, please, I’ve been good!” 

Your voice awakens something in him, something primal and hungry, ready to devour you whole. He groans in response, leaning down to kiss you feverishly, retrieving his fingers from you only to replace them with the tip of his cock, running it up and down against your drenched folds before pressing in slowly.

He pulls away from your lips, giving both of you time to catch your breath and relax as he carves his way within your gummy walls. You both moan in delight as he finally reaches your deepest parts, his hips flush against yours as the two of you try to catch your breath.

Aemond slowly draws his hips back before driving himself forward, knocking the breath out of your lungs as he gains speed. You fist the bedsheets, back arching in response to him hitting your sweet spot rapidly, drawing ragged breaths and little yelps of pleasure from your parted lips.

“So beautiful, fuck, darling,” he groans into your skin, straightening his back a little to hover his face over yours to look at you from a better angle, “I would set this town on fire for you.” “Aemond, I-I’m close—” You gasp when his finger travels down your stomach and reaches the bundle of nerves and starts rubbing it quickly, drawing you closer to your breaking point. 

He isn’t in a better situation either; he is panting with his cock twitching deep inside you as his desire for you overflows his senses. 

His rhythm falters as soon as you clamp around him tightly, gushing around him with a shout of his name, which sends him over the edge as well. He pulls out instantly, ignoring the your whine in protest before he sits on his knees next to your head, stroking his cock with his head thrown back.

“Open your mouth, darling—fuck, there she is, good girl…” he groans when you close your eyes and stick out your tongue, catching the ropes of his cum on your face and tongue. He whimpers out your name, his shoulders relaxing finally, tension leaving his body as he empties himself on you.

“Messy girl,” he taunts you, reaching to pull a napkin out of the nightstand’s drawer, lying down next to you to wipe his cum off your face gently, his other hand caressing your bare stomach and breasts to soothe you through the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“You made a mess out of me, baby,” you say, smiling softly when he leans down to peck your lips after dropping the napkin back in its place, pushing his pants and shirt fully off to join you under the covers.

“Aemond?” you call him, laying your head on his chest when he pulls you closer, “I’m tired of this.”

“This? What do you mean?” he asks, his fingers tracing meaningless patterns on your back while he waits for you to answer him.

“This game of cat and mouse, always sneaking in, my father this my father that… I’m tired of being just a secret.” “You knew what you were getting yourself in when we first slept with each other,” Aemond huffs, “It’ll always be like this, darling. We would have to spend our days away from everyone.” “But Aemond, we can go on dates in so many ways! Please, we can go on a trip to Lys, no one knows you there, and we will leave all of this election and your political worries in King’s Landing!” You try to reason with him, turning around in his arms to look into his eye.

“Sweet girl, he reaches to push a strand of your hair behind your ear, “There is not much time left until the—”

“— election, I know. But you can spare three days to stay with me. Don’t you think it’s worth it?”

“Our lives and future will be ruined if we get caught. It will cause a huge scandal that I and my team are not ready to face. I might become the next president of Westeros, I need to win over your father.” He explains logically, and you feel stupid for mentioning the idea of going out and being seen in public with him.

“I’m sorry, I know… it was a dumb idea.” you avert your eyes away from him, biting your bottom lip as guilt and shame fills you. “Hey, look at me,” he gently switches positions so you lay beneath him again, “I wish we could go on dates and I had the chance to show you off. Maybe after all of this mess, I’ll be able to divorce my wife, but till then…  As long as I have you in my arms, nothing matters.”

•••••••••••••••••••••••

The days pass quickly. You watch your father and Aemond in the news, paparazzi following you and your family around the city bombarding you with questions about things you didn’t care about. Until one day, your father receives an invitation from Aemond Targaryen himself for a party at his house.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise when your father called you and asked — more like demanding — that you should be the one attending this party. After all, he couldn’t put himself past that hatred to go to this party in his rival’s house. Apparently, his daughter could though, as if it wasn’t dangerous to send you to the dragon’s cave with no support.

You agreed a bit too eagerly, trying to play it off cool and keep calm while you panicked from inside. You’d be saying Aemond again, publicly, without sneaking from a back door, or a secret passageway. 

Choosing a dress wasn’t difficult when you had the design of one of Aemond’s mom’s dresses; a knee-length dress in light blue and off-shoulder with a little cut that exposed your lower thigh, knowing how crazy Aemond would get if he saw you in things he has bought for you.

Your curls fall around your shoulders as you walk toward the main entrance of the mansion, catching the attention of all the photographers and guests. You walk up the stairs that lead to the house, eyes searching for the silhouette of the only person you care for in this messy crowd.

You find him easily; his long hair shines underneath the dim light of the hall, and his tall frame and the champagne in his hands stand proudly among the people who look so simple and boring compared to him.

He is wearing a long deep blue coat with thin silver embroideries on it with a black shirt and pants, and next to him… you just catch the eyes of his wife, Floris Baratheon-Targaryen, who is smiling proudly at the ladies and gentlemen surrounding them.

“Ah, love, look who’s here,” she threads her fingers through Aemond’s, excusing themselves as the pair come to greet you. Floris is beautiful with long black hair and a charming smile — no wonder she is Aemond’s wife, the perfect image of a dutiful wife, “It’s such a pleasure to have you here.”

You accept her hand, shaking it gently before you avert your eyes from her to her husband, locking your eyes with his as you try not to let him see any emotion on your face. You are ashamed of yourself, Floris looks like a kind soul, and you have been having an affair with her husband for months, but even now that you have met her, the guilt and shame are not enough for you to step away from what you have with Aemond.

“How is your father? Not too sour I hope,” he smirks, wrapping an arm around Floris’ waist as he has always done with you in the confines of his hotel room.

“Why would he be sour, Mr. Targaryen? Last time I checked the numbers were quite against your favor,” you reply, thanking the waiter who brings you a glass of champagne, “He made sure I show you his gratitude for the invitation. He was horribly upset for not being able to join us tonight.”

“Well, yes,” he chuckles darkly and you can see how his fingers clench the fabric of Floris’ dress, “He is a busy man, he should be thinking of a backup plan after he loses to me.”

“Is that what you are doing, sir? I assume this party…is your way of gaining support now, isn’t it?”

“Aemond,” his wife utters, smiling hesitantly at him, “maybe you should show our new gallery to her, politics can be a hard topic to talk about in such a noisy place.” “Splendid idea, wife,” Aemond kisses Floris’ forehead while his eye is solely focused on you, “Shall we, Miss?” he offers you his arm, looking around the room to see if anyone is paying attention to you or not.

“I would love to,” you say through gritted teeth, an ugly jealousy bubbling inside you as you loop your arm with his, walking side by side to the new gallery. You shouldn’t be feeling like this, it is not your place to have complicated emotions when you are the other woman.

“After you,” he holds the door open for you, his eye scanning you from head to toe, catching the sight of his mother’s designer dress before he leads you inside the gallery, closing the door shut and locking it from inside.

“Didn’t know you were into art, Aemond. It’s a welcoming surprise,” you say, sipping on your drink while you walk past him, not sparing him a glass as you look at the paintings.”

“You need to work on your emotions, darling,” he says, putting his champagne glass on the nearest table he can find before he makes his way to you, “We wouldn’t want everyone to find out how close we actually are.” “No, Aemond, you don’t want that,” you chuckle in disbelief, drinking the rest of the remaining liquor in your glass before you put it on the same table as he did, standing in front of him with a burning rage inside your eyes, “I want them to know! I’m sick of this, I don’t deserve to be a whore for you in secret!”

“This was what we agreed on!” his voice echoes in the room as he grabs you by the nape of your hair, bringing your face closer to his, “whore or not, I can't bear to lose the elections I have been working my whole life for! And I can’t… I can’t lose you either—” You both turn around when a loud banging sound comes from the other side of the room. You look at Aemond in terror, stepping closer to him before you hear the door at the end of the hall is pushed open. He grabs your hand and pulls you toward a narrow and dark hallway that is attached to the gallery. You have a clear view of the paintings and the waiters who are carrying several drinks together, luckily, it can’t be said for them. They would need to round the corner and bend down a little to find this place. Aemond pushes you against the wall, his large palm covering your mouth as footsteps grow quieter when they leave the gallery.

“Aemo—mmh!” he doesn’t let you finish as he silences you with his mouth engulfing yours in a passionate kiss, his fingers clutching your hips like his life depends on touching you, breathing in your scent, and tasting your lipstick.

“Shh, be quiet,” he turns you around, pressing his chest to your back before he reaches down to pull your dress up to your hips, mouthing at your neck as his hand finds the hem of your underwear.

“We shouldn’t do it here, Aemond, we might get caught!” you hiss at him, gasping when he pushes your panties to the side, running the pad of his fingers along your slit, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your face.

“I thought you wanted everyone to know about us, hmm?” He teases you, letting go of your wet folds for a second as he unbuckles his belt, unzips, and pushes his pants down enough to pull his cock out.

“Not like this!” You sigh desperately, hands bracing your weight on the wall when he lines his leaking tip with your entrance, thrusting his full length inside you with ease.

He slaps his hand on your mouth again when he is completely sheathed inside your warm and dripping cunt, muffling your noises as best as he can before he starts thrusting into you with abandon.

In his mind, you look too beautiful, too gorgeous and breathtaking, and the longer he looks at you, the more passionate he is about driving his cock inside you, fucking you with all his love and adoration.

“You make me go fucking crazy,” he nearly growls, his hips pistoning against yours as he nuzzles his nose into your cheek, eye closed and cheeks painted pink. He pushes two of his fingers inside your mouth, his own lips parted as ragged breaths and throaty groans fall from them. 

You are a mess just as he is; eyes closed, hips moving with each of his abandoned and reckless thrusts, while your body floats in pleasure. It’s quick, sudden, and mind wrecking; you come with a muffled scream around his thick fingers, and he follows you as soon as your walls tighten around him, squeezing the cum out of his cock.

He presses you to the wall, groaning and panting as he fills you to the brim, his teeth catching your earlobe while he tries to ground himself with all the euphoria running through his veins.

“Aemond,” you pull his digits out of your mouth, resting your head on his shoulders as the two of you try to regain your breaths, heartbeat slowly dropping back to normal.

“Lys…” he says, and you crane your neck to look at him in confusion, “Pack your bag for a few days.”

“What?” You ask, eyes wide and hopeful as you stare at him, he grins in response, planting a sweet kiss on your lips, “We’re going to Lys.”

“Are you serious?” 

“Deadly,” He winks at you and pulls his softened cock out of you slowly before he makes himself presentable again, his hands finding their place on your hips once again, “now, don’t sulk anymore. You’re too lovely to be upset because of me.”

“I was not sulking, but… but what about the paparazzi? The election? Are you sure?” You shake a little, maybe both in fear and excitement before you cup his face, staring into his ocean-blue eye.

“Shh, don’t fret, I have thought about everything. No one knows who we are and we’ll stay in a yacht. I have talked to Cole to get it ready for us.”

“You… you are amazing, Aemond!” You crash your lips to him, pressing several kisses to his face, leaving careless red marks on his pale skin.

“Anything for my girl,” he whispers against your lips, chuckling as you keep your assault on his face, “but we should head back to the party. I’m sure they’re looking for me.”

“Yes, yes, of course!” I laugh a little before fixing your hair and sneaking out of your hiding place.

“I’ll meet you outside, alright, sweet girl?” He asks you, pecking your lips before pointing to one of the paintings to make it seem you are still busy looking at the new art hanging on the wall while he unlocks and moves out of the room.

Floris finds him instantly, moving towards him with a man who follows her as well, eager to meet him. Aemond clears his throat when they reach the door of the gallery, pulling him into a conversation he has no choice but to join.

Oblivious to him, his wife’s eyes catch the faint red lipstick stain under his jaw.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

If you were told that this country was this beautiful, you would’ve never believed them. Everything is brighter in color, people have no clue who you are which makes everything much more exciting.

You’ve been in Lys for two days already, fucking on every surface of the yacht, quickies in different places around the city, sightseeing, and spending time together.

It was all you’ve ever wanted from this relationship; some peaceful alone time as a couple, not as a secret.

There is a weird feeling of being watched by someone that has been with you since you stepped inside the city as if someone is following you around. At first, you thought it could be a photographer who somehow caught sight of you and decided to make money out of it. But again, no one knows who either you or Aemond is…

You don’t pay attention to it, but the feeling is still with you as soon as you step on the deck of the yacht, your sundress moving with the wind as you gaze over the sea.

“Not very thoughtful of you to leave me all alone in the bed,” Aemond says, walking towards you with his hands in his pockets, “I missed you already.”

“That’s good to know because I’ve missed you too,” you turn around, moving to the cushions that are secured to the deck before lying down on them, stretching yourself as he stands tall above you, “more so your mouth.”

“Insatiable beast,” he calls you, “what have I done to deserve you?” He drops on his knees and crawls towards you, a wicked grin on his face as he reaches your ankle, grabbing and pulling you towards him with ease.

“Your mouth is a miracle, I’ve been blessed to witness it with my own eyes,” you match his tone, spreading your legs for him.

As soon as his eye falls on your bare pussy, he lets out a long sigh in delight before latching his mouth to the flesh of your thighs, kissing and nibbling as he makes his way up to your center, flattening his lavish tongue against your folds, licking a fat stripe of your wetness before humming and kissing your clit.

You lay back, letting him take care of you slowly, building your pleasure until you break under his touch. He starts with slow licks and kisses, making lews sounds as he gains his speed, fingers digging into the fat of your thighs while he keeps you in place.

Throwing your head back, you moan his name, fingers tangling themselves in his soft silky hair as he speeds up and shoves his face further between your thighs, his large nose nudging your clit in the best way possible.

You open your eyes and look around; the view is mesmerizing. Next to where you are is a huge wood that separates the city from Aemond’s private dock, yet the greens of the trees don’t catch your attention but a sudden flash of light does. It happens again, this time a bit faster, a bit closer. It could be anything, maybe a reflection of light, and you desperately hope that is the case and the flash doesn’t belong to a camera.

Luckily, Aemond’s tongue distracts you from your thoughts, and you arch your back when his thumb joins the patterns he is drawing on your nerves. You look down at him, catching the raw emotions that dance in his eye; adoration, love if you dare say. Soon, when he makes you come, all the thoughts of those mysterious flashes are gone, and only pleasure is left for you to focus on — the knot he created, snaps, and ecstasy rushes in your blood.

“Baby,” you pull him up, chest heaving with delight as your legs stop shaking, “I think I saw someone.”

“No one is allowed here, don’t worry, sweet girl,” he says between kisses on your chest as he makes his way up your stomach to kiss you.

“But it looked like a camera flash,” You kiss him back slowly, lying on your side to face him, “Are you sure no one can go past your guards?” “Yes, please, don’t think about it. It’s just you and me, darling.”

Oh, how wrong he was.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

It’s been twenty days since the last time you heard his voice, twenty days of agony and pain. You were caught, you did not imagine things. The day you arrived at King’s Landing, you saw the news; your pictures from your trip with him were all over the internet, the moment on the night, the kissing in the sea, wandering in the city — your illicit affair was publicized. By whom you have no idea. Maybe Aemond’s wife, maybe your father, but at the end of the day, nothing hurt more than when after days of trying to contact your lover, he broke everything off with a single text from his assistant. 

After that, your parents cast you aside; your mom screamed at you while your father cheered in victory. After all, those pictures caused a huge scandal and rift in his rival’s team. He didn’t care what would happen to you as long as you didn’t do anything like this again that would result in his downfall. They closed your bank accounts that they had access to and left you alone on your own. Fortunately, you weren’t too dependent on your father’s money and had persued a career to pay for your necessities, but now, none of it mattered.

Your days pass numbly with hundreds of calls and texts to Aemond. There is nothing left inside you willing to get up and do something, to fix this mess even a little, to pull yourself out of this deep hole you have dug with your hands. 

You read the text again as you curl on the loveseat, sobbing and clutching your phone to your chest. Mr. Taragryen has no interest in being involved with you anymore, and the more you read it, the more your body ache for him. It feels like a knife being shoved inside your chest, twisting and ripping your lungs in the process while you melt under the sharpness of it, taking it because you have no choice left but to do so.

You did it to yourself; what were you thinking? How did you ever think that getting involved with an important man was a good idea? A married and much older one at that. Now you scroll through the leaked pictures with a heavy heart and silent tears running down your face. The headlines are cruel, far worse than you had ever thought about.

Whore of a daughter wins the election for the father!

Aemond Targaryen cheats on his wife with his rival’s daughter; several intimate pictures have been caught during their visit to Lys…

Aemond Targaryen, an honorable man seduced by a younger girl, WESTEROSI reports…

You throw your phone on the floor, nearly falling from the loveseat from how aggressively you move. You want to scream from the top of your lungs, to curse and shout, but it was your idea to go somewhere, for him to take you on a date. It is all your fault.

The doorbell rings and startles you. You get up immediately, thinking it must be your parents or one of your friends to come and check up on you, but when you open the door with bloodshot eyes and find Aemond standing there, your knees nearly give out.

“A-Aemond?” you stutter, eyes watering at the sight of his messy clothes and hair — he looks just as fucked up as you.

“Oh, my sweet girl,” with one step, his arms engulf you in a tight embrace, and you cry. Fat ugly tears run down your face as he holds you close, his own tears falling after days of being apart from you. He couldn't stay away, he had to come and see you. Every day without you felt like a lifetime, never-ending torture he had to endure while Criston and his mother did everything they could to save his public image, and Floris, well, she was quite content with everything.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you…” he presses several kisses to the crown of your head, holding you incredibly close to him as he leads you back into your house, shutting the door behind him. You have your arms wrapped around him, holding onto his shoulders as he sits you down on the couch, making sure to pull you into his lap so you won’t feel alone again.

“Aemond?” you ask, your voice so little, so fragile that it breaks his heart into million pieces.

“Yes, darling?” he lifts your head, his thumb wiping your tears gently while he shushes you, watching your lips tremble in disbelief, “Tell me, tell me what I can do to make you feel better.”

“Why did you let go of me so easily?” you ask, fiddling with the collar of his shirt, “I was so alone, I-I am alone, I have no one! How could you—” you hiccup, a sob wrecking your body as you talk.

“I had to, sweet girl, I had to. My public image, my campaign, everything was near destruction if it weren’t for the distance between us. I had to do it.”

“I lost everything, Aemond! My parents, my friends… I was called a whore, your mistress, a side chick. You nearly lost everything, I did lose everything!” you gasp for air as another wave of pain spreads in your chest.

“What can I do for you, darling? I’m here now, I’ll do whatever you wish for me to do, please,” he begs, the first and probably the last time you’ll hear Aemond Targaryen plead for something.

“I love you, Aemond, please make the pain go away.”

He leans down, capturing your mouth in a slow kiss, painting his devotion on the canvas of your lips as he moves them together. He feels you relax in his arms when you start kissing him back. He lies you on the couch gently, never breaking the kiss as he sucks the breath out of your lungs with each passing second that e tastes you.

You melt under his touch, the fingers you adore so much move along the length of your body. His lips let go of yours for a second before he hovers atop you completely and brings you in for another deep kiss. His fingers are cold against your heated skin as they move your shirt upward, to eventually pull the fabric off your head. 

He breaks the kiss to trail his lips to your neck, leaving butterfly kisses all over your jaw and collarbones as he moves lower until he reaches your bra. He circles his hand to unhook it, and he does, he pushes the strap on one of your shoulders down slowly before he stops.

Aemond stops.

Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach as he moves his face away from your shoulder to kiss you fiercely for a hot few seconds before he pulls away, shaking his head in shame.

“Ae-Aemond, why did you…” “No…” he says, a few tears fall from his remaining eye as he gazes at you past his wet lashes, “I can’t do this.”

“What do you mean?” your voice quivers, and Aemond stands up immediately when he hears how broken you sound, leaving you half-naked on your couch, “Aemond, please!”

“I can’t make the same mistake twice,” he mutters as he moves toward the entrance door, “I still have a chance. I can win the election, I can—” “A mistake? Do you truly feel we were a mistake?”

“I am sure we were. We have ruined our lives for what? For sex, for lust?”

“For love!” you scream, holding your hand to your chest to prevent your bra from falling, “I didn’t want anything from you; not your money, not any status, I wanted you, just you.” 

“I can’t do this—”

“Aemond, please, no!” You cry out running to block his way, “Don’t go, please, don’t leave me again. I can’t take it if you leave me all alone, I have lost everything for you! Please, please—”

He cups your cheek, pressing one last lingering kiss while his own tears fall on your cheek, “Goodbye.” He moves past you and leaves.

“NO!” you break down and fall on your knees, and for once in your life, you feel truly helpless.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

You don’t remember how long has it been since that day; it could be a few days, or months. You don’t even remember how you got into this dingy dirty bar close to your place. It’s dark and gloomy with a heavy rain thrumming outside the window while you drown your sixth shot of bourbon. 

You are not an alcoholic, in fact, the only time you drink is at parties and formal events. Tonight though, you need to let go and unwind for a bit and unfortunately, in a very apathetic mood, you decided that drinking was the best option. 

The lovely bartender glares at you when you ask for another shot but doesn’t say anything and does as you ask, keeping a close eye on you to make sure you’ll be alright.

You keep staring at the rim of your glass, eyes filled with tears and sorrow until someone slides into the stool next to you. Looking up, you see a familiar face, Aemond’s wife. What is she doing here? Does she want to taunt you even more? To make sure you are suffering far worse than she did? “I see you are adapting well to the new changes,” Floris says, pointing at the bartender to pour her whatever you are drinking.

“Are you following me now?” you scoff, drowning the amber liquid in your glass, “Wasn’t my public humiliation enough for you?”

“You were fucking my husband, of course, it will never be enough. You should suffer for how you ruined his reputation,” she looks at you, waiting for you to come up with a witty reply.

“He said you never slept with each other…” You whisper in response, “He loved me.” “How fucking naive you are. He never loved you, he lied to your face and you still defend him,” she sneers, running a hand through her wild black curls, “He used you, it was all a part of his plans. You were just a pawn in his game.”

“He didn’t… he-he…” you take a deep breath, not wanting to cry in front of Floris of all people. He didn’t do these things, Aemond would never do that to you. He has no reason to, or does he?

“Do you truly think these numbers just go up and down because of the citizens? Aemond changed them to his liking, he has never had the intention of winning this year. He wants to be remembered so he may come back stronger than before and take over Westeros—”

“You don’t make any fucking sense! Leave me alone,” You stand up to move away from her, but she grabs your arms before you have the chance to run away.

“He used you to gain information from your father’s campaign! I just helped him speed things up by hiring those photographers,” 

“It was you… you ruined my life,” you pull your hand out of her grip, “You destroyed everything he has worked so hard for! How could you do this to your husband?” “He was cheating on me!”

“So were you! You were cheating too!” you yell at her before grabbing your purse and running out of the bar, crying hysterically. Nothing makes sense, you don’t know how you held that conversation for so long. What she said or what you replied repeats in your head, but it’s all a blur, a mess of words and echoes of high-pitched screams.

You reach your car, stumbling on your feet as you get in with some difficulty. Driving while awfully drunk is not a good decision, but you must get away from Floris, the bar, and everyone. Firing the engine, you pull the car out of the park, driving past the speed limit into the alley without looking around you.

You can’t see, you can’t hear, and all you can do is speed up while heavy tears fall from your eyes once more as you think about everything you shared with Aemond. Was any of it real? Were you a silly fling for him to gain information?

Suddenly, the sound of a horn catches your attention, and you see the light of another car coming your way. You try to break, but every time you press the pedal, the car doesn’t stop. Each time you fail, and you realize too late that you’ll either crash into the other car or you try to do something. 

But time isn’t always on your side, and the last thing you see before blacking out is how your car hits the tree and the airbags open.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

Aemond bolts through hospital doors, repeating your name until someone pays attention and shows him the way to the ER. As soon as he reaches the end of the hallway, the doctor steps out and tries to calm him.

“How is she? What happened?”

“Calm down, sir, she’s alright—“

“I need to see her, please, let me go inside—“

The doctor declines, grabbing Aemond’s shoulders when he tries to step inside the room, “She’s under anesthesia, she probably won’t be up until noon. She has lost so much blood, two broken ribs, and a minor head trauma. She’s lucky she’s alive.”

The doctor leaves him alone, and Aemond slides down on the hospital floor, resting his head on the wall as he thinks about how terrible you must have felt when he left without any further explanation.

He cries softly, shoulders shaking with each sob that shocks his body. He’s not known to be a vulnerable person, but ever since you came into his life, he’s been changing; a bit softer around the edges of his heart, he smiles more, he relaxes more often than not, and he’s been much happier. But now, the thought of you going through such a horrible thing while he was away sleeping in his bed makes him hate himself even more for what he put you through.

He totally forgets about the elections that are taking place today, he can’t care less about what would happen, it means nothing when he can’t have you next to him. He declines every call from his mom and assistant, only sending a text to say he won’t return for the day.

His heart pops out of his chest when he sees the nurses pushing your bed towards one of the rooms.

“How is she?” He asks, looking down at your unconscious body. How beautiful you look even with bruises and wounds over your face.

“She’ll be fine, sir,” one of the nurses says, “all she needs is rest and good company.”

“When will she wake up?” He swallows, watching them closely while they hang your serums and connect different tubes.

“Hopefully in a few hours. Her body has experienced too much trauma and she should take as much rest as she can.”

He nods in agreement, waiting for them to leave before h breaks down, reaching to hold your sofy hand in his, kissing all over your knuckles and fingers, whispering praises of how he’ll cherish you and won’t leave you ever, he won’t put you through what he did again. He falls asleep with your hands in his, dried tears adoring his high cheekbones. He feels a soft hand reaching to wipe the remaining wetness, leaving soft caresses over his skin.

He opens his eye, finding you smiling softly at him as best as you can while fighting the pain. He sniffles and presses his lips desperately to the back of your hand, thanking the Seven for bringing you back to him.

“Hey,”

“Shh, please, don’t talk. You need to rest,” he reaches to push your hair out of your forehead, letting his fingers linger on your face for a little while before he holds your hand again, “what happened?”

“Well…” you cough, wincing in discomfort and pain before you continue, “I got drunk and…your wife came. We argued, she said some…nasty things about you…”

“What did she say, sweet girl?” He asks hesitantly, keeping his lips locked to your hand, “Don’t push yourself too much. If it bothers you—“

“She sent the photographers,” you sigh, closing your eyes for a moment, “she confessed it herself. She sent them because she wanted to help you. She said you didn’t want to win the elections, that you…you just used me to gain information on my father’s doings.”

“I would never do that, love, I would kill myself rather than ever thinking about hurting you.”

“But you did, Aemond. You hurt me when you left me at my house like garbage needed to be dumped. I was so alone, everyone left me, why does everyone leave me?” You ask, teardrops streaming down your cheeks.

“I will never leave you again, I’d never make the same mistake twice.” He reaches to wipe your tears gently, minding your injuries.

“You called our relationship a mistake too, Aemond…”

“I was angry at myself for not protecting us, for not filing the divorce papers sooner!” He says, desperation dripping from his words like honey, “I needed to step away, to convince Floris to be done with this marriage. I’ll be yours forever in a few days.”

“You… you’re getting a divorce? You just lost the election and-and you’re… how are you not freaking out, Aemond?”

“Because none of these matter as long as you’re with me. You brighten up my world, sweet girl. My life orbits around your smile and I can’t… I can’t let go of you again.”

“I won’t be your affair anymore, n-not your other woman…”

“No, sweet girl, you’ll be my only woman.”

[latetaektalk]

love to hate you | jjk [vii]

“when obnoxiously rich and spoiled frat boy jeon jungkook comes up to you one day and asks you to fake date him for money, you definitely should have said no. because before you knew it, you were going on insta dates with him and having lunch with his equally obnoxiously rich and spoiled friends.”

— genre: sexual themes, angst, fluff, fratboy! AU, fake dating! AU, college! AU, rich kid! AU, enemies to lovers! AU

— pairing: jungkook x female reader

— word count: 17.966

— warnings: swearing/cursing, alcohol consumption, jealousy, no communication skills whatsoever

— playlist: to be added

— a/n: after almost two years of no update its done. it would be a lie to say that i was always one hundred percent sure this was gonna see the light of day but its finally here, and im so so so happy to just put it out there and give it to you guys. @koocycle has listened to me bitch abt this one so much so thanks to her, also for kinda inspiring me to get back into tumblr.com and writing !! enjoy!! and once again, this is inspired by To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before by Jenny Han!

“You’re really showing your wealth, you know?” you said as Jungkook slid into the driver’s seat, shutting out the cold air. He raised a brow, handing you the bag for you to hold onto, shivering slightly from the cold, his neck exposed to the harsh wind.

“How so?”

The engine sputtered to life as he slotted in the keys, his phone mounted to the dashboard, showing him the way. You pulled out the one-hundred-dollar expensive wine bottle from the bag, scrutinising it. Some of the glitter from the red ribbon the salesman had wrapped around it in an effort to be more festive and fitting today’s occasion peeled off. 

“This is too much.”

“Yeah, I know, the bow’s tacky but I couldn’t stop Kangjoon from-”

“No, I mean the hundred bucks you dropped on it. It shows your wealth,” you repeated, scrunching your nose. “Also, didn’t know you were on a first name basis with the salesman.”

You let the bottle slip back into its bag, scared Jungkook was going to make a sharp stop and cause you to drop and waste the bottle. God knows you didn’t have one hundred bucks casually lying around like him—even though you were sure Jungkook wouldn’t make you replace it and would definitely just buy it again himself.

“What? Don’t tell me you didn’t like Kangjoon? He’s a great man, very competent.” And just as you were about to tell him that Kangjoon scammed him, Jungkook continued, “Also isn’t that the whole reason why you’re dating me? My wealth?” 

He said it with a grin, turning to you as he let a family of four pass, receiving a thankful hand raise from both of the parents as they ushered their young children across the street. And even though he meant it purely as a joke, his smile and tone indicating as much, his words made you scrunch your face like you’d been stung by a bee. 

“It’s so unnecessary. We wouldn’t know the difference between this and supermarket wine, and Chae literally said not to bring anything. She’s gonna scold you, you know?”

If it had gone your way, you’d have gotten the second cheapest bottle of semi-fancy alcohol they had and called it a day but Jungkook swiped his card before you could intervene, ever so easily charmed. Well, actually if it had gone your way at all, you wouldn’t have brought anything to begin with. Chaeyoung hated it if her guests brought anything anyway.

“Gotta impress your friends, don’t I? Can’t have them not like me,” he argued, and you rolled your eyes.

“First of all, no, you don’t-”

“You don’t want your friends to like your boyfriend?” Jungkook gasped, staring at you with his mouth agape and eyes wide as you came to a stop in front of a red light. You shook your head.

“No, can I speak?” you sighed, frowning as Jungkook laughed, clearly getting his kick out of annoying you. “My friends already like you, and you know that. We’re driving to Ji’s and Chae’s place now for a Christmas party. One that you were explicitly invited to. So I don’t believe you for a second when you say that you got this wine to impress them. Also, Chae said not to bring anything. You just like spending money.”

Jungkook pursed his lips, trying and failing to hide a grin. “Do I now?”

“Am I not exhibit A?”

He gave you a look as if to say touché.

“Okay, maybe you’re right,” he admitted. “But just so you know, I gladly spent my money on that wine if it means I’ll impress your friends and make them like me more. And I’m even more than happy to spend it on you, cabbage.”

He looked at you by the end of his words, flashing you a grin. A grin that made him look so pretty and adorable, that would have made your knees buckle if you hadn’t been sitting, that wrapped your heart into his grip even tighter. A grin that made you wonder if a parachute would be enough to stop your fall for him, or if you were simply doomed for this fate, for the bone crushing landing.

You turned your head to the window, glad to see you had made it to Jisoo’s and Chaeyoung’s place.

“I think you’re just happy to have an excuse to spend your money,” you mumble, pretending to busy yourself with the straps of the bag.

“Sure—” There was a shrug, and you should have prepared yourself for the worst, should know better by now that Jungkook couldn’t just agree with you and leave you in peace. “—or you’re just the love of my life, cabbage, and what’s mine is yours.”

The words remained casual on Jungkook’s tongue, easy as ever. And they remained difficult and frown-inducing for you. 

“You’re-!”

A laugh bubbled up from Jungkook’s upon your silence, and though you were trying your deepest and most desperate to resist, your heart skipped a beat. It was fatal, cardiologists would say. How deeply you’d fallen, it was fatal. Your heart couldn’t be saved.

And as if he hadn’t said the most impossible thing ever, Jungkook pulled into the parking lot and turned off the engine, a grin plastered on his lips.

“Alright, let’s-”

You yanked the door open, stepping (of course) in a puddle. With a groan and wince, you slammed the door shut. Your breath came out white and cloudy, December coming into its full swing. The weather had been harsher than ever—wind dragging on your skin until it was painful and tense, air cold enough to dry out your throat and mouth, every window coloured a milky white, and clouds hanging far and wide in the sky for every hour of the day. The urge to crawl back into the oh so warm car was strong. The urge to run away from Jungkook however was just that much stronger. 

The bottle bumped your hip bone as you rushed towards Jisoo’s and Chaeyoung’s apartment building. You didn’t turn around as Jungkook called after you to wait with a laugh, fumbling to unhook his phone from the dashboard. 

You reached the glass front door rather quickly, a handprint smudged across it that hadn’t been there last time. You cringed, but couldn’t think about it too much, worrying a lot more about the diminishing distance between Jungkook and you as you waited for one of your friends to open the stupid door for you. You knew for a fact they were already there, spotting Hoseok’s car parked on the side of the street. If he was there, Jimin was too, always catching a ride with him.

“Do you really think you can outrun me?” Jungkook called out, just a dozen steps behind you. 

You pulled on the front door as if it made a difference, pressing the bell repeatedly. He slowed his walk, burying his hands into his pockets. All so very smug. Your features twisted into a frown. 

“You’re so slow. You always run from me as if I won’t catch up with you in two-”

For once fate seemed to be on your side, the buzzer cutting through the air. The door almost hit you in the face when you yanked it open. You slammed it back shut again, just right in front of Jungkook’s nose. He pulled on the handle. The lock had clicked in. You watched his features twist as he realised he was too slow. His lips pressed together, curling inwards as he watched the biggest and proudest grin spread on yours.

“What were you saying? About me being too slow?” you said. A smile tucked on the corners of his mouth as he shook his head at you.

“Open up.”

He knocked on the glass, right in front of your nose.

“What? I can’t hear you.”

You put your hand to your ear, tilting your head.

“Just open up.”

“You gotta speak louder. I really can’t hear you with this door between-”

“Cabbage, you better open the door for me now, or I’m gonna make you regret it,” Jungkook said, narrowing his eyes, tongue poking in his cheek. And even though you were certain it was an empty threat—how was he going to make you regret it?—, you contemplated for just a second if maybe you should listen and open the door. 

“I’m gonna count to three.”

You scoffed. Were you a kid? And even more so, what was Jungkook going to do to you? Were you going to cave because of an empty threat? 

“Please do,” you smiled, eliciting one from Jungkook himself.

“Three.”

He raised a brow.

“Two.”

You folded your arms in front of your chest.

“One.”

A moment passed. 

Nothing happened.

“Alright, fine,” Jungkook said before dramatically ringing the bell. And even though you rolled your eyes, you did inch back. He was going to chase you, that one was for sure. 

The moment the buzzer rang, you took off. Jungkook let out a laugh.

“Now, you run?” he taunted, pulling the door open, his steps echoing through the hallway. You took two stairs at a time, yelping when you realised that Jungkook was hot on your tail. Maybe you should have run earlier. Or maybe you should have opened the door for him. But who were you, letting a guy threaten you? No less Jungkook of all people, that idiot.

You made it up the flight of stairs faster than you ever had, your lungs lit on fire. The front door already stood ajar for you. You could distantly hear Chaeyoung call out for Jisoo- A hand wrapped around your waist and pulled you back. Jungkook stood right in front of you, chest bumping into you, the biggest grin on his lips.

Shit.

“Gotcha.”

Your face soured.

“Oh, h-how are you?” you coughed with a smile, and he chuckled, never taking his eyes off of you even as he grabbed the bag from your hands and placed it down. You had completely forgotten about it. “Don’t look at me like this. T-that’s not fun.”

“Neither was having the door slammed in my face.” 

You backed into the wall. Turns out being tough was a lot more difficult when there wasn’t a door to shield you and Jungkook was actually in front of you, just centimetres from your face and staring at you like you were his favourite thing in this entire world. His hand sneaked around your waist, slipping underneath your sweater, fingers grazing the small of your back. His touch was light and delicate, teasing in all the right ways. It was cold too, making you arch and almost wince. And it was all too much—a tingle spreading across your back, rushing straight to your heart.

“Any last words before I make you regret it?” Jungkook hummed, and you should snort and laugh because he should sound ridiculous. But somehow, his words made you tense, the mere thought making your head spin in rounds and rounds. You bit on your tongue, silencing any sound that might just want to crawl up your throat.

You shouldn’t let Jungkook be this close to you. You needed distance for your sanity. But you couldn’t bring it over your heart to push him away. You didn’t have it in you. Not when there was very much a part of you that wanted to find out what Jungkook exactly meant.

He drank you up with his eyes, gaze dark and full of something hazy. Full of something you couldn’t pinpoint. But you loved it, you did. Maybe a little too much even. You loved the way it made your heart thump and rumble in your chest, made you forget that this was too much and far and dangerous, that Jungkook and you should keep your distance because in just a few weeks all of this would be over and you’d go your merry ways. But right now, with your back against the wall and Jungkook caging you in, thrill and excitement rushing through every single one of your cells, you couldn’t stop. You didn’t think you ever could.

“Got nothing to say now, cabbage?”

And when you still wouldn’t respond, he smiled. His face inched closer to yours, his nose brushing yours. Your fingers itched to hold onto something, onto him, curling and uncurling in the air. Because you shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t. But you did, hands gripping his sweater as if you were lost in the sea and he was all you had to cling to. 

You closed your eyes, anticipating and waiting for Jungkook to kiss you, your breath stuck in your chest. Any time now. It was going to happen-

“Oh my God, please don’t do this in my hallway.”

You whipped your head around, your heart dropping to the floor. Jisoo stood in the doorway, face twisted in utter disgust.

“Please, anywhere but my fucking hallway. That's all I’m gonna be able to think about. Seeing the two of you eating each other’s faces.”

There was even clearer disgust in her voice.

Oh God.

“Hello, Ji,” Jungkook smiled, and you expected him to back away from you, but he gave you no distance. He wasn’t even the slightest embarrassed, if anything you sensed the slightest annoyance swinging with his words.

“Please step away from her, Kook,” Jisoo asked, gesturing for him to move backwards. But he wasn’t all too eager to follow, staying cemented right in front of you, hands still around your waist. He paused to think.

“I’ve got a really expensive bottle of wine.” He pointed to the bag. “I’ll give it to you in exchange for five more minutes.”

“Oh, you brought something? Chae’s gonna kill you,” Jisoo laughed before changing her tune, tilting her head to the side. “But how expensive are we talking?”

“Like one hundred bucks.”

You stared holes into Jungkook, mouth agape. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Were you not right here too? Did you become air? It was like you were cattle being sold off. 

“Oh,” Jisoo gasped before shrugging. “Okay, deal-”

“Yeah, no way,” you laughed before doing what you should have done earlier—you pushed Jungkook away, making him tumble backwards a little. You stepped around him. 

“But, Y/N, it’s one hundred-”

“Ji!” you gasped, making her laugh and reach out for you. She wrapped her arms around your neck, giggling as she did. 

“I’m kidding. I’m kidding. I would never,” she told you, and you raised a brow at her. “Right, Kook?”

“Yeah, we were just kidding.”

“I don’t- hey! I can see you two exchanging looks!” you gasped, neither of the two even trying to be subtle. “Do you think I’m blind?”

“Ha, funny, I think-” Jisoo cleared her throat. “—I think Chae is calling for me? Oh my God, do you hear that? Yes, I’m on my way, Chae!”

And as if she hadn’t just stabbed you in the back, she slipped inside. But not without grabbing the bag and thanking Jungkook for it. You rolled your eyes, turning to head inside when he cleared his throat.

Jungkook was staring at you with his brows raised, clearly expecting… something. 

“What?” you barked. He gave you a smile before stretching out his hand. You groaned. “Seriously? We have to get inside-”

But he waved his hand around, not budging. Rolling your eyes and with a long exhale, you took his hand into yours. 

“You’re a child-”

Jungkook pulled you towards him, shutting you up with a kiss. One hand cupped your cheek and the other rested on the small of your back, pushing you into him. The kiss was tender and soft, gentle and light. And still, it was enough to have your heart thumping louder and harder in your chest than ever before. You asked yourself if Jungkook could feel it at all. That heart of yours that was oh so tight in his grip. That heart of yours that was bleeding in your chest. That heart of yours already ached at the thought of this all ending in just a few weeks. 

It was a lovely kiss, a devastatingly lovely kiss.

And when Jungkook pulled away, his eyes so full and beautiful, you felt gutted and empty. Because this meant nothing to him. This meant nothing at all. You looked away. Jungkook laughed, pulling you flush to his side, all too unaware.

“Let’s go?”

You nodded slightly. 

Jimin was first to greet you, leaping up from the couch and pulling you into a hug. “You made it!”

“Took you long enough,” Taehyung mumbled, sipping on his beer, earning himself a look from Namjoon that he simply ignored. “We could hear you two yelling around in the hallway.”

“Merry Christmas to you too, Tae,” Jungkook laughed, and the older one frowned at him. 

“It’s December 10th.”

“In other words, it’s almost-”

“No, it’s not-”

Hoseok greeted you with a hug, ignoring Taehyung’s and Jungkook’s bickering because otherwise he would never get to say hello to you. “Looking good.”

“Thanks.” You stared at his sweater. “That’s one really ugly Christmas sweater.”

He laughed, thanking you. Seokjin and Namjoon were next to give you a quick hug, followed by Jennie and Yoongi, exchanging a few words with each of them. Taehyung and you stared at each other for a few seconds, neither of you saying anything. And though he tried to hide it, a smile formed on his lips. A smile you could only return. You blamed it on the holidays. They made you especially sappy and sentimental.

You were first to reach out. Taehyung reciprocated the hug. It was a little awkward and short and one-armed. It was more than anyone could ask of you. Jungkook nodded in both amazement and approval when you caught his eyes for a split second, and you just scrunched your nose at him.

“So how-”

You tuned out Seokjin, taking a minute to admire the decoration around you instead. Chaeyoung (because Jisoo wasn’t particularly all too fond of Christmas, but did put up with all of it because Chaeyoung very much was) always outdid herself every holiday season: red little fuzzy stockings hanging off shelves and cupboard knobs, cinnamon-scented candles lit up all throughout the place, miniature Santa and reindeer figurines sitting on every surface alongside bowls of chocolates and peppermints with fake snow underneath. There was even a small fake Christmas tree crammed into the corner of their living room with colourful baubles (some of which Jimin had gifted and had pictures of you all printed on them) and equally colourful fairy lights hanging on it. And of course, Michael Bublé was on heavy rotation, his voice carried throughout the home. 

“Where’s Chae?” you asked Jisoo when she came up next to you, both of you standing in front of the Christmas tree. 

“Oh, you know-”

“Ah, great, you guys finally made it as well,” Chaeyoung exhaled, coming out from the kitchen, and seeing Jungkook and you among the other guests. There was a slight edge accompanying her words, and you doubted for no second that her nerves were running high from having to host tonight and needing all of this to turn out perfect. (Even if she chose this fate upon herself.) Her updo was falling apart, strands sticking out in the wrong places. Still, she looked pretty. Especially with her reindeer apron tied around her waist. She had had it since middle school, and seeing it brought back all kinds of memories. You couldn’t help but grin, Jisoo and you exchanging looks. And when your gaze met Chaeoyung’s, she knew. She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. 

“Yeah, I know,” she mumbled, speaking to you too only and confusing the others in the process. Jisoo and you snickered. 

“Anyway—” Chaeyoyung waved her hand around, “—I’ve got some unfortunate news. Dinner isn’t ready. I’ll need at least another thirty minutes. Hope you guys didn’t come too hungry.”

“Do you need help with anything?” Jungkook asked, already getting up from the couch. Yoongi raised his hand, silently extending the offer as well. Jennie nodded, clearly willing to get her hands dirty too.

“Yeah, anything we can do to help you?” Taehyung asked, making an effort to get up too, but Chaeyoung was quick to shake her head.

“No, I don’t need help,” she mumbled, clearing her throat. “I just wanted to inform you guys. You all would help if you guys just busied yourself and didn’t come into the kitchen.”

And before anyone could insist on their help, Chaeyoung disappeared back inside the kitchen.

“Shouldn’t we-?”

“If you wanna stay on her good side, don’t take a single step into the kitchen. Don’t even breathe in that direction, or think about helping her,” Jisoo explained, and Jungkook looked at you as if to ask if this was exaggerated at all.

“Yeah, Chae’s… very peculiar with that kind of stuff.”

“But there are so many of us. Is she really gonna do all of it on her own?” Jennie asked, but Hoseok waved her off. 

“Trust me, she is and she will. Chae gets super stressed, but she also loves to host. If you don’t let her, she’ll be in a bad mood for ages. It’s better to just let her do her own thing.”

“And if it actually gets too much, she’ll come out and ask for help at one point. Trust me,” Jimin added.

“You think? I’m not so sure about that one,” Jisoo snorted and moved over to grab a handful of chocolates. Almost instinctively, she placed a hand on Jennie’s shoulder, and for a moment, you wondered if Jungkook and you ever looked this natural and comfortable with each other. If you looked as much as a couple as Jisoo and Jennie did. “When has she ever asked for help?”

“There’s no way she can do all of this on her own,” Taehyung said, frowning.

“You don’t know Chae.”

“Maybe. But it seems humanly impossible to pull off this entire thing without asking for at least some help.”

Jisoo raised her brow at Taehyung, pausing a moment. “Oh, do you wanna bet?” Her mouth pulled into a grin at the mere prospect of making some easy money. “Ten bucks?”

Hoseok and you exchanged glances over their heads. This was very much typical of Jisoo. 

“Don’t bet with her, Tae. She’s a scammer,” Jimin said, pushing Jisoo’s hand away as she waited for him to shake it.

“I won’t,” Taehyung laughed, taking a sip from his beer. “You know I don’t do-”

The ear-shattering sound of a pan clashing with the kitchen tiles emerged from the kitchen, followed up with a few loud curses and an “It’s fine!”. You cringed when something else you couldn’t identify fell to the floor a second later, eliciting even more curses. Almost instinctively, you turned to Jisoo, nudging her. Because as much as she was right that it was a bad idea to go help Chaeyoung, it would actually be worse not to go in right now when everything seemed to go off the rails.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. My cue to jump in,” she grumbled, begrudgingly making her way to the kitchen, knowing already she would have to endure Chaeyoung’s snappy attitude. She squeezed Jennie’s hand in goodbye. 

“See, she’s getting help,” Taehyung said to no one in particular and righteously took a sip from his beer. Jungkook applauded him sarcastically, and you were about to say something when-

“Oh, this is cute!” Seokjin gasped, coming up to you. You followed his gaze to the bauble he was admiring. It had an old picture of you and your friends on it, faces curving around the porcelain. “How old are you guys there?”

You pursed your lips. “That’s probably senior year? So like seventeen maybe? Eighteen?”

“What are you guys doing- oh my God, you guys look so young.” Namjoon hooked an arm around Seokijn’s shoulder, marvelling at your younger selves. “Look at that one!”

He pointed out one with just Jisoo, Chaeyoung and you on it. It was one of the first pictures you three had taken together. All three of you still stuck in middle school. You couldn’t decide whether to be embarrassed or nostalgic.

“Is that Ji? Her hair, oh my God!” Seokjin laughed, pointing out the blunt bob Jisoo used to rock.

“Don’t be mean!” And yet, Namjoon laughed too.

“You’re lucky Ji can’t hear you right now because she’d kill you,” you said. “But actually, you should see some of Seok’s old pictures. He looks so different-”

A hand snaked around your waist. You tensed. But you relaxed a second later when you realised who it was. You peeked over your shoulder just to check and smiled when you turned out to be right. He placed his chin on your shoulder.

“Hello,” Jungkook whispered, and you squirmed, his breath tickling your ear. He was so close to you, too close. You could practically feel his heart beating behind yours.

“Hey,” you returned, a bit breathless and pitchy. You cleared your throat.

“What are you guys doing?”

“Oh, uh, nothing really,” you mumbled, waving your hand around.

Jungkook frowned, but didn’t ask any further. “Okay, well, I wanted to get you something to drink. You think I can go into the kitchen without getting murdered?”

“Yeah, you’re fine. Ji’s there too,” you said, glancing over your shoulder to meet his gaze. He was already looking at you, eyes big and so full and a smile on his lips.

“Okay, then do you want anything in particular?”

You shook your head. “Uh, no, whatever is fine.”

“Whatever it is.”

But rather than just leave to get you said drink, Jungkook lingered, not moving away from you just yet. You raised a brow at him, making him smile. As if he could read your mind, he loosened his grip around your waist, but not before pressing a kiss to your neck.

“Getting you that drink,” he smiled, backing away. 

You touched a hand to where he had kissed you, gripping, feeling hot all of a sudden. It was stupid, you were stupid. 

“Jesus.”

And albeit, it was quiet and muttered under his breath, you heard it very clearly. You looked at Seokjin, eyes big as he stared back at you with a grin on his lips. There was a fondness in his eyes, a look you always saw on Jimin’s face. Namjoon wore it too.

“What?” you asked when the expression wouldn’t disappear.

“It’s just-” 

He sighed and shook his head.

“What?” you repeated, but Seokjin wouldn’t continue.

“You guys are just cute,” Namjoon supplied.

“Oh, please,” you scoffed, shaking your head.

“You guys are exactly like Jin and Mina used to be,” Yoongi said, coming up next to you, having witnessed the entire exchange from his spot on the couch.

“What?” you laughed, shaking your head over and over again. “I have no idea what-”

“Don’t deny it, Y/N,” Namjoon laughed and looked at you.

“It’s gross really,” Yoongi scoffed, taking a sip from his beer. “How smitten he is for you. How happy and—” He shuddered for the drama of it all but wore a smile on his lips. “—stupidly in love you two are.”

Wait, what?

“It’s cute,” Seokjin corrected, and you stared at him with stunned silence. 

“Is it though?”

“Don’t be like that, Yoongs. When have you ever seen Kook this happy before?” 

The question, though not directed at you at all, made you freeze. And when you looked at Yoongi and he made no effort to disagree, you froze.

“You make him really happy,” Namjoon said with a smile and tilted his head when you didn’t speak or react at all, giving your shoulder a light squeeze. “You know that, right?”

His words hit you like a ton of bricks, crashing down on you and compressing your lungs. Because, no, you didn’t. You didn’t think about it ever, and why would you? It never seemed possible to you because it simply wasn’t possible you made Jungkook happy. You didn’t have that power over him.

Was this really how you looked like to others—two people who were in love and happy? It sounded ridiculous to you, impossible. So much so, you just had to shake your head and wave your hand around as if the words loomed in front of you and had to be physically dismissed. Your heart banged in your ribcage, loud and far too heavy.

“You guys are exaggerating!” you chuckled, voice wavering the slightest bit. “This has nothing to do with me- Finals are over and it’s Christmas, so obviously-”

A single look from them was all it took to silence you. They didn’t have to say a word for you to know what they were collectively thinking.

“Y/N, don’t be ridiculous,” Seokjin said.

“For god’s sake, just look at that boy,” Yoongi laughed, pointing behind you, and your gaze followed his hand. Right then Jungkook came back with two drinks, one for you and one for him. 

He seemed surprised, stilling as he saw that you were all looking at him. But he recovered, mouth pulling into a big smile. Your eyes met his. You would have missed it if you hadn’t looked so close and paid attention to every little thing he did. But you saw it, the tiny smile he offered you, and only you. It was like a little secret. Just for you and him to know and share and see. 

Did you really make him happy?

“Why are you guys staring at me like that?” Jungkook laughed, coming to a stop in front of you and handing you your drink. You took it passively, and purely from the warmth, you knew it was your favourite, green tea. “Are you guys talking shit about me?”

“Oh, yeah, you know just the usual shit talking we do about you,” Namjoon snorted.

“Mhm, the usual stuff. How you always-”

Seokjin’s voice faded away when Jungkook moved closer to you, his arm already lifting to sneak around your middle. But you couldn’t do this. Not now.

“Sorry, I gotta pee,” you mumbled, wringing out of Jungkook’s grasp, his fingers just barely brushing your skin. You didn’t know who you interrupted, but you offered them all an apologetic look but you never quite looked at Jungkook. Your exit seemed natural enough though, you thought. No one made an effort to stop you.

Some of your drink spilt over when you put it down on the coffee table too quickly, and you even almost bumped into Hoseok, but rather than apologise properly and clean up your mess, you hurried into the bathroom. 

The moment the lock clicked shut behind you, you let yourself crumble, knees giving in. If only just a little. 

Oh God.

It wasn’t very environmentally friendly, not very Save the Turtles! kind of behaviour of you at all as you just let the water run and run into the sink and down the drain. You didn’t even wash your hands or face, just needing something to fill the silence as you sat on the edge of the bathtub and let yourself calm down.

You felt ridiculous. You truly did. Insane and crazy even. The behaviour you were exhibiting was probably therapist worthy. The panic. For what? And why? It was behaviour you never imagined yourself exhibiting. No less because of Jeon Jungkook. But here you were, playing his pretend girlfriend for money so he could win a bet. And you got all of your friends involved even! You should have really thought this through-

“Cabbage?”

And somehow, both dread and warmth crept up with his voice. You closed your eyes, thinking for a second to shut off the tap. It seemed just a little too exhausting to do that.

“Yeah?” 

“Are you good?”

“Yeah.”

It was quiet for a few seconds.

“Can I come in?”

“I’m peeing, Jeon.”

A lie. He knew. You knew.

“Fine, come in.”

When you wouldn’t move, Jungkook gave the door handle a try, surprised to see you hadn’t locked it. You had forgotten, and so he did it for you instead. The moment he saw you sitting on the edge of the bathtub with the tap carelessly running, he stopped, features folding into something nice, pleasant, empathetic.

“Stop,” you groaned, rolling your eyes and turning away from him, shutting off the tap as if that minimised how sad you had to look right now.

Jungkook chuckled, burying his hands into his pants, carefully walking towards you. He sat down next to you, knee pressed against yours. Neither of you pulled away. There was a part of you that should tell him to give you space, but you couldn’t. If anything, you turned a little to him.

“How are you always running off into the bathroom when you feel bad? It’s so obvious,” he mumbled, pinching your nose.

“Ow, stop!” you hissed, swatting his hand aside. 

He gave you a look, shaking his head, and you pouted like a child would. It made him chuckle, and you tensed when Jungkook put his head on yours, too tall to lean against your shoulder comfortably, his eyes falling shut. 

“What did they say?” Jungkook asked, breaking the silence after a while.

“What?”

“Joon and the others. What did they say to make you run off like that?”

You pressed your lips together, disliking that you were so easy to read.

“Who sent you?” you snorted, wanting to figure out which of your friends just earned themselves a plus point.

“No one.”

“What?” you blinked, and looked at him, but he kept his eyes closed. “So you-”

“No one sent me. I just… wanted to make sure you were fine myself.”

And hearing that was somehow utterly awful. Because it meant Jungkook cared. At least to some degree, at least enough to want to check on you. It meant that he was able to read you so easily, that he really knew you.

“Now, what did they say? You can tell me. I’ll talk to them for you. Or I won’t if you don’t want me-”

You shook your head, sighing. “Nothing. They said nothing.”

It was true. Because none of what Namjoon, Seokjin, and Yoongi said was worth running off. It wasn’t insulting, or hurtful. 

“Are you sure? Seriously, you can just tell me. I’d talk to-”

“I’m serious,” you interrupted, not even wanting to hear how far Jungkook would go for you. “They said nothing. I just had to pee.” You shrugged. “And I just needed a moment to breathe. It’s nothing. I promise.”

Jungkook sat up, glancing at you with his mouth pursed and eyes narrowed. “So just a moment to breathe?”

Your hand almost came up to cup his cheek, the urge to brush over the little scar on his cheekbone tempting you. It was difficult to resist when he was looking at you like that. There was this need, to plant your lips against his. Kiss him and assure him. But you didn’t let yourself. You turned your head to the other side, curling your hand around the cool porcelain of the bathtub until the skin stretched thin over your knuckles and almost hurt. Just anything but Jungkook and his stupidly pretty face.

“Just a moment to breathe,” you mumbled. 

Jungkook hummed, straightening up. He let his head hang for a few seconds before lifting it up again and turning to you.

“Is it fine if I stay with you then?”

It was a delicate question, an honest question, a devastating heartbreaking question. Because of course, he could. Of course! He could do anything, as long as he remained by your side. And that realisation, albeit not entirely new to you (you were aware of it to some degree all along), was mortifying. 

You closed your eyes, a knot forming in your throat. There was nothing for you to say, a silence stretching between you. A silence Jungkook took as a “yes”, and when his hand gripped yours, it was sealed for you. You didn’t pull away, put your head on his shoulder. What would be the use of resisting? What good would it do? What would it change? Nothing.

So you enjoyed it instead, the moment between him and you. For as long as you could. For now.

“We should probably get back out,” you mumbled when you heard the laughter get louder in the living room. 

“Probably.”

And yet, neither of you moved. A few more moments passed. It was the next bound of laughter that ripped you out.

“We should-”

“I think it’s time-”

You both stopped, nodding, knowing. Jungkook was first to get up, groaning like an old man before turning to you and offering you his hand. With one loud sigh, you took it, allowing him to pull you up. You shared a look and a smile.

It felt like you were walking into another world when you stepped outside, still holding hands. Before it was just Jungkook and you. Now it was everyone else too. And almost as if you had said that exact thought out loud, everyone looked at you as you walked back in. You stopped, the same way Jungkook had when he had returned and found you all staring at him. You frowned, the grin spreading on Jimin’s and Jisoo’s (When had she made it back?) faces worrying you. Jungkook seemed as clueless as you.

“What?”

No one said anything for a second. 

“Can I?” Jisoo asked, pleading with everyone else, and you narrowed your eyes. She was giddy, and her being giddy was never a good sign, especially for you. Most times it meant you’d be miserable.

“Do the honours,” Jimin said, gesturing for her to ahead.

Jisoo leaned back, grinning from ear to ear. She seemed to stretch the moment thin, take her sweet time to reveal to you what exactly entertained her so much. Jennie shook her head next to her, but she wore a smile on her lips, amused.

You kept close to Jungkook, almost instinctively. As if he could protect you. His hand brushed the small of your back, soothing. Taehyung’s irritating snicker grabbed your attention for a second, but before you could frown at him for it, Jisoo spoke,

“Look up.”

Fuck. You should have figured.

“Ah,” Jungkook laughed upon seeing the mistletoe above your heads. 

“You guys are funny,” you scoffed, shaking your head. “And very cute for thinking that we are gonna do-”

“You have to!” Jimin interjected, leaning forward and pointing at the two of you. “It’s the law. The rules of the game.”

You frowned, and the lines deepened even more when you saw everyone from Namjoon, Seokjin and Jennie to Taehyung, Hoseok, Yoongi and Jisoo nodding along. Of course, they found pleasure in your misery. 

“It’s bad luck if you don’t,” Hoseok reminded you of the stupid rules, and you could have thrown something at him. How was no one on your side?

“That’s… made up.”

“Well, if you wanna risk the bad luck, be my guest,” Hoseok chuckled, shrugging, and you rolled your eyes. 

“Oh, please, no one believes that!” 

But you were met with no ounce of support from anyone. You turned to Jungkook, expecting that he was equally as ticked off as you. But he seemed perfectly fine, his features not even slightly twisted into anything resembling irritation. If anything, he was smiling a little when you met his eyes. 

“I don’t know, I’m never one to tempt fate,” he said, and you couldn’t quite decide how to react. Jungkook reached for your hand again, playing with your fingers. “Why risk the bad luck? Also, it’s not like we have never kissed in front of them.” He grinned. “Remember how you jumped me and-”

“Oh my God, I didn’t jump you!” Your voice leapt up a few pitches too high and remained there when your friends began to laugh.

“Now that’s a lie. You practically threw yourself at-”

“Jeon!”

Jungkook cackled, and you could have strangled him right then and there. Your friends laughed too, and you would have snapped at them if your cheeks didn’t warm to an uncomfortable degree. To the point the blood boiled in your ears, so much so you didn’t even hear Namjoon’s holler about how it was just a kiss!

It wasn’t completely lost on you that it was stupid to be embarrassed, considering how boldly you had claimed Jungkook as yours in front of a room of strangers just a few weeks ago. Especially considering that all of your friends had a slight alcohol level going on anyway already and were most definitely moving on the second the kiss happened. But it was different. At the Halloween party, you were positively buzzed, your vision blurry and fuzzy. But more importantly, you were jealous to the point of turning green. It seemed so much more intimate to kiss Jungkook in front of everyone now. And so very vulnerable because you wanted to so much. Kiss him. You always did these days, yearned to. That desire scared you, was mortifying in more ways than you could describe, particularly in this moment because what if they could all sense it? What if Jungkook realised it all of a sudden? That you really wanted this? That your entire heart ached for him? 

And as if you had the fear written all over your face, Jungkook reached for you, tugging on your elbow and turning you back to him. He gave you a smile, his head tilted to the side. A few strands slipped out of his perfectly messy hair, and a soft shadow covered half his face. Right then, he seemed all so delicate to you, so good, so precious. It was instant, your heartbeat dwindled into something calmer and wilder at the same time. Somehow, it seemed almost easy and much more difficult to kiss him and pretend it didn’t dig daggers into your heart. None of it made sense, the effect he had on you, but you supposed a lot of things hadn’t made sense in your life since Jungkook’s first appearance.

“It’s just a kiss, cabbage,” he mumbled, shrugging. 

It was. It was just a kiss, to your friends, to him. It was nothing, a small price you had to pay to entertain your friends. It was fun and simple. It was just unfortunate that it was so much more to you. 

You held your breath when Jungkook placed a hand on your cheek, thumb brushing over your cheekbone, gentle and soothing. He was doing everything right, and yet, you could have thrown up right then and there. Jimin gasped and squeaked as Jungkook inched closer to you, Jisoo grasping onto his arm because oh my God, they were going to kiss! All while you were desperately, almost frantically, fisting Jungkook’s shirt, as if you would float away otherwise and it was the only thing keeping you on the ground.

And Jungkook kissed you all too delicately.

To the point, you could have believed him. That you meant something to him, that he might just be in love with you. It was horrible, to be kissed like that. You weren’t sure if this was how it felt like, to be in love and to be loved. You hoped it wasn’t.

You pulled him closer to you, deepened the kiss, allowed him in. For just a while, you told yourself. Just until you found the strength in you to resist him, until you deemed your own well-being more important than these fleeting highs with Jungkook.

“Alright, dinner’s- oh.” 

Chaeyoung stopped right before she could bump into you, and you quickly pulled away. But Jungkook kept holding you, not letting go of you. Chaeyoung placed her hands on her hips and shot Jimin and Jisoo a long look.

“Ah, who of you idiots did this?” 

“Why do you assume it was-”

“So it was you,” Chaeyoung said, interrupting Jimin and shaking her head. “Take it off. Dinner’s ready.”

Jisoo slapped his shoulder, laughing, clearly enjoying seeing him getting reprimanded by Chaeyoung. Jimin rolled his eyes, mumbling something about how Chaeyoung was no fun but he followed her orders, getting up and reaching for the bundle above your heads. You backed away-actually you jumped. It made Jimin pause and narrow his eyes, his mouth lifting into a smile when he saw the opportunity.

“Oh, what if I hold it over you-”

“No, don’t even!” you hissed, pushing Jimin away from you and seeking refuge behind Chaeyoung. 

“Oh, it’s just one more kiss, Y/N!” Jimin taunted, following you. You shrieked, moving further from him, irritated by the constant laughter spilling from his throat. He was enjoying this too much. Too much!

“Fuck off!”

“Don’t be like-”

“I’m serious, stop!”

“It’s fun-”

“Okay, no, enough,” Jungkook said, stepping in and swiftly taking the mistletoe from Jimin. He slapped him with it lightly, eliciting a gasp from Jimin. “No more chasing my girlfriend with mistletoe, okay? Or you can do your physics assignments on your own.” 

Rubbing his cheek, almost convinced he was allergic to mistletoe now, Jimin gasped as if Jungkook had just declared an end to their friendship. “Kook! How could you say that?”

“Stop chasing my girlfriend then.”

“Oh my God, fine, I won’t,” Jimin groaned, pouting. “You’re so lame.”

When he reached for the mistletoe, Jungkook hesitated, looking over to you and even though you preferred him not to hold it in his hands again, you knew Jimin would get even more offended if Jungkook withheld the bundle from him. So you gave him a nod. 

“Okay, alright, dinner’s getting cold,” Chaeyoung said, clapping her hands together when Jimin was back in possession of his mistletoe. “So how about we take this party into the kitchen, yeah?”

Like you had said he would, Jungkook got an earful from Chaeyoung when she noticed the expensive bottle of wine suddenly appear on the dinner table because how dare you bring something when I clearly said not to? And on top of that such an expensive bottle too. Do you shit money? Somebody needs to teach you how to manage your finances. Rather than come to his help, you left Jungkook to fend for himself which earned you puppy eyes from him, but hadn’t you told him better? Surprisingly however he managed to convince her to open the bottle anyway. You were sure she’d get him to return it, or at least take it home again. Jungkook could be very compelling. But you knew that already. 

“If the teaching thing doesn’t work out—” Namjoon had his mouth stuffed as he spoke, and you caught Yoongi cringing next to him. “—I think you should become a cook, Chae.”

She smiled sheepishly, waving him off. “Oh, please. My mom’s cooking is so much better.”

“I don’t know if I believe you,” he laughed. “This is seriously so good.”

Hoseok shoved a big bite into his mouth, a drop of sauce splashing onto the table. Chaeyoung smiled and wiped it off for him. He thanked her.

“It’s the best food on Earth. I’d die for it,” Jimin sighed, a little too loud and dramatic, his mouth full with food, giving you all a glimpse into what his stomach must look like. His cheeks were tinted a slight pink, the red wine slowly flushing him through. “Like that one Gordon Ramsey meme? Where you know—” He sat up, changing his voice in a failed attempt to mimic the British celebrity chef. “—he’s like ‘Finally some good fucking food.’ or whatever. That’s how I always feel when I eat Chae.”

For a second, there was silence. Jungkook and you looked at each other with big eyes, a hint of a smile on your lips because it was obvious that Jimin hadn’t realised what he had said, blabbering on and on without a second thought.

“Maybe you should calm it on the alcohol,” Seokjin mumbled, pushing Jimin’s glass away from him. But it had the opposite effect, making him reach for it instead and down the entire contents of his glass in one quick go.

“Never!”

“You mean… her food. When you eat her food, you could cry, right?” Taehyung clarified, and Jimin looked at him with big eyes.

“Oh, yes of course! What else would I mean?” he laughed, loud and boisterous. “Chae’s all yours, Seok. Don’t worry. I’m not your competition.” 

Chaeyoung almost choked on the wine, and Hoseok turned a few shades redder. 

“Someone get this idiot some water,” Yoongi snorted, and Namjoon already got up.

You turned your gaze to Jisoo when she leaned into you, taking the chaos as a chance to just talk to you, her hand grabbing yours.

“How’s the scarf going by the way? Are your loops now clean?” she whispered, careful to keep her voice low. You glanced towards Jungkook, but he was busy trying to convince Jimin to drink a few sips from the water at least. And though he hadn’t heard a word, you glared at Jisoo, shaking your head.

“Not with him around,” you hissed, and she rolled her eyes.

“Oh, look at him. He’s not paying us attention. I wanna know. I’m invested now, especially because you always called me a grandma for knitting. How’s it going?” she asked, and you knew it was best to just quickly answer her because she wasn’t dropping this.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it now. It’s almost done-”

“What are you guys whispering about?” Jennie asked, leaning in, eyes wandering between Jisoo and you.

“Y/N’s knitting a scarf for her boyfriend for Christmas.”

“Ji!” 

Your features couldn’t decide whether or not to contort in embarrassment or fear Jungkook had overheard this time. It’d ruin your surprise. You were in luck though because he wasn’t paying your conversation any mind.

“Oh, that’s cute!” Jennie squealed. “I only thought Ji knits. I didn’t know you knit too, Y/N.”

“I-”

“She doesn’t. She just sews a little,” Jisoo said, beating you to it. She leaned towards Jennie as if she was telling her a secret and didn’t want you to hear, but she deliberately kept eye contact with you and didn’t even lower her voice, her lips curling up. “She learned how to knit for her stupid little boyfriend. She asked me so many questions and bought so much yarn too. It was so annoying-”

You kicked Jisoo in the shin, shutting her up. She sharply sucked in her breath, hands flying to her leg, mouth agape in a silent screech.

“You’re talking too much,” you hissed, not remorseful at all even as she rubbed her shin. Jennie laughed. 

“That’s really cute of you though, Y/N,” she said, smiling at you. “I like the idea. He’s gonna love it.”

“It’s just a scarf,” Jisoo mumbled, rolling her eyes, words dipping into an astonishing amount of immaturity. “It’s not that cute. I could knit you a better scarf-”

“Stop bragging. It’s different. You’ve always knit. Y/N made an effort to learn how to for Kook.”

“I’d learn how to do something new for you.”

“So do.”

“What? Like I won’t?”

You took that as your cue to exit the conversation, glancing over to Jungkook instead. He hadn’t noticed your conversation at all. In fact, he was stuffing his mouth full. Some extra sauce decorated the corner of his mouth in his haste. Without missing a beat, you wiped it off with your thumb before cleaning it on his napkin. He turned to you, eyes as big as a reindeer caught in headlights. It hit you only then as he stared at you and you stared at him, what you had done. How intimate the nature of the gesture had been. You might as well have ripped out your heart and told him to keep it. It would have been the same.

“Did… you just-”

“Oh, the wine is actually so good!” Jisoo sighed, putting down her glass, and right now you were very glad she sat next to you. “I think that’s the best wine I’ve ever had.”

Jungkook’s eyes darted between her and you. He was thinking, contemplating if he’d engage with Jisoo in a conversation, or tease you until you were just about ready to be swallowed by a hole. Maybe it was the way you wouldn’t even look in his direction and kept your gaze trained on Jisoo, or maybe because he was planning on bringing it up another time, but in the end, he decided to spare you.

“I’m happy to hear you like it,” he grinned before jabbing you in the side. You flinched, grabbing his hand before he could do it again. “See, and you said they wouldn’t taste the difference.”

“She doesn’t,” you grumbled, brows creased together.

“She’s just saying that because she knows how expensive it is,” Taehyung said, and for once you agreed. Jisoo rolled her eyes at him, mumbling something about not wanting to argue with an idiot and picking a piece of lint off of Jennie’s shoulder instead.

Jungkook shrugged. “Whatever. She likes it, so worth every penny.”

You were about to let go of his hand, feeling any kind of contact was a step too much, a step into a very wrong and dangerous direction. But Junkook interlaced his fingers with yours, holding it firm, thumb brushing over the back of your hand. For a second, you contemplated pulling away because this was too much, too close. You didn’t, not finding the strength in you to do it. 

“Actually, I haven’t learned half of my mom’s cooking. She always makes this amazing pork belly stew for every Christmas. If you love this, you’ll love that,” Chaeyoung said, pulling you into their conversation that seemed to have circled back to her cooking.

“Are you gonna go back home for Christmas? Because I’ll go with you if so. That stew sounds amazing,” Yoongi said.

“Oh my God, if you are, please take me with you too because this is so good,” Jennie sighed dreamily, making Chaeyoung laugh. 

“Excuse me, what about our Christmas plans?” Jisoo gasped with faux upset, and immediately Hoseok, Chaeyoung, Jimin and you exchanged glances. 

Moving fast, Hoseok mouthed and you nodded. You had no idea. At the same time, it seemed to work for them.

“Oh, can’t we just drop by for dinner really quickly for some food?” Jennie tried, pursing her lips into a pout, but Jisoo just clicked her tongue and shook her head.

“Good food is all it takes, huh?”

Jennie laughed.

“Is everyone going home for Christmas?” Namjoon asked, wiping his mouth before grabbing his glass of wine, holding it up to his lips, speaking into it. “I know Kook is for sure.”

Jungkook nodded. “Got me there.”

And even without looking at him, you knew he was smiling and more than excited to go back home. He squeezed your hand, and you could tell he did so unconsciously. You squeezed back, happy for him that he was happy.

“Oh, right, I’ve been meaning to ask!” Jimin gasped, turning rather dramatically towards you. You blinked, unsure of what was about to spill from his lips.

“Is it true that you’re going back home with Kook, Y/N?” 

What?

Everyone turned to you, Chaeyoung raising her brow at you because were you? You stared back at her, mouth opened and closing because no, right? You weren’t, or were you? Your eyes lifted to Jungkook, and he had that same look on his face. Neither of you knew what to say or do. This wasn’t something you had discussed. And why would you have? It’d be ridiculous to assume that you’d be going back home with Jungkook to meet his parents for Christmas.

“Uh-?”

“I’m just asking because Kook’s parents have been asking me if I knew if he’s actually gonna bring you,” Jimin continued, shrugging. And maybe you would have focused on how much you wanted to strangle him right now and needed him to shut up if your mind wasn’t reeling from the fact that Jungkook seemed to have not only told his parents about your existence but also that you would be spending Christmas with them.

What?

“Okay, yeah, no, wait,” Jungkook interjected, a clear panic in his voice, turning fully to you. “I can explain.”

You blankly stared at him, unable to even make a single sound. He dug a hand through his hair, looking even more panicked the longer you said nothing.

“So, uh, my brother saw my posts and stories online and might have told my parents… that I’m dating you. And so they’ve been really curious and asking about you a lot, and it was a little annoying, so I just told them that I might bring you around for Christmas to shut them up. But—” He held out his hand as if to get ahead of you saying anything. “—I didn’t promise them anything. I just said it to get them off my back, you know?”

You continued staring at him, unsure of how to react or what to say because well, you hadn’t thought that either of your parents were ever going to get involved in any shape or form. You hadn’t even played with the idea of telling your parents. And why would you? All of this was fake! A ruse, so Jungkook could win his stupid bet!

“It wasn’t planned, or anything, okay? I wasn’t going to tell them about you-”

“You weren’t?” Jimin blurted out, brows pinching together. He seemed to have lost all ability to read the room, just a glass or two of wine enough to dull his brain. “Ow-!”

He glared at Taehyung, rubbing his arm. It still wasn’t enough to shut him up however. 

“What was that for? I’m just saying I’m a little surprised that Jungkook, the definition of a mama’s and papa’s boy, was planning on keeping his girlfriend a secret when he hasn’t shut up about Y/N for months-”

“No, wait it’s not like that,” Jungkook quickly scrambled, gesturing wildly. “It’s just that my parents, you know, can get a little much. And, I don’t know-”

His sentence didn’t find an end, and Jimin seemed to just take that as a sign to go on, 

“Didn’t Narae meet-”

“Okay, how about you finish your food, huh?” Taehyung interrupted, taking Jimin’s fork and picking up a big piece of meat before shoving it into his mouth. Namjoon and Seokjin exchanged glances, cringing. Yoongi lowered his head, and Jennie slid down on her seat. Chaeyoung looked at you with big empathetic eyes and Jisoo even gave your hand a squeeze. 

If there was anything genuine between you, this would have been devastating. Luckily, there wasn’t. So it couldn’t hurt. And yet, your heart felt like it was bleeding in your chest, a dagger shoved in, a dagger with Jungkook’s name. He was staring holes into you, but you couldn’t look at him, settling on the edge of the table instead. You weren’t hurt. You weren’t hurt that Narae with her perfect smile and manicured nails and beautiful hair and glossy lips got to meet his parents and you didn’t. It didn’t bother you at all! That was what you told yourself at least. Because you couldn’t possibly be hurt. Not when your relationship was transactional and just an act. And yet, to your misery, you were hurt, deeply. You hated it, how you weren’t all that unbothered as you wanted and more importantly, should be. 

You were pulled out of your thoughts though when you saw the glare Hoseok was looking at Jungkook with. It dawned on you how awful all of it had to sound to your friends then. Narae, who never even was Jungkook’s official girlfriend, got to meet his parents, but you, who was officially (at least to them) his girlfriend, he not only didn’t want to introduce to them but also planned on keeping a secret?

“Oh my God, you guys!” you laughed, loud and light, like it was all so very dumb and stupid. With a big swoop, you grabbed Jungkook’s hand on the table, hoping no one saw the shake in your fingers. Everyone looked at you.

“You’re misunderstanding. We had agreed from the beginning that we should take it a little slower, and not tell everyone immediately. I knew he wasn’t going to tell his parents. I told him not to.” You put on your most convincing smile, swallowing the knot in your throat, hoping desperately it was enough. Everyone was looking at you, and you looked right back at them, at everyone except for Jungkook. Your vision almost blurred, hazy at the edges, feeling your composure threaten to slip.

“It’s nothing.”

There was a slight shake in your voice, the tiniest of a waver. You couldn’t tell if your friends noticed, their faces unreadable to you. A moment of silence stretched across the room, the food long forgotten about. In the end, it was slightly tipsy Jimin, the one who started it all, to break the awkwardness.

“Okay, well, do I text them… yes or-?”

You wondered if Jimin was this stupid, or trying to put you through hell on purpose. His question made Taehyung next to him sigh and shake his head, lips pressed together as he stared daggers into the older one.

“What?” Jimin whispered, offended. Maybe you should have taken the wine from him sooner. 

You looked at Jungkook finally. He didn’t seem to have an answer at all, his eyes big and wide like a child’s. There was something in them that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. It almost seemed like he wanted you to agree, say yes, of course, you’d meet his parents. You had to be imagining it. As quickly as it had come, you squashed the thought.

It was up to you. The decision was in your hands. Everyone was waiting for your answer. Jungkook would have to go with whatever you were saying, whether or not he liked it. 

A lot of it was probably spite, spite that Narae met them already and you hadn’t. And how would it look if you weren’t there when Jungkook inevitably made a post about being back home with his family and you weren’t there in the pictures? What would Narae think? You could already see a backhanded Instagram story in front of your eyes, how there was trouble in paradise. It was something you wouldn’t put past her at all, seeing as she had done so before, posting just an hour after Jungkook celebrated your one month anniversary about how cringe some couples could be. Anyone doubting your relationship might just lead to Taehyung doubting your relationship and then to Jungkook losing his bet and all of this would have been for nothing. That couldn’t happen, right? You had to do something against it!

“They probably won’t stop bothering you until you tell them yes, right?” 

You tried your hardest to sound casual, nonchalant, chill as some might say. This was no big deal, you told yourself.

It wasn’t what Jungkook had expected. He thought you’d give some roundabout answer that in the end summarised that you needed to keep things slow and easy. But you agreed. You were going to meet his parents. He searched for something in your features, anything to tell him how you genuinely felt about it. He was trying to read you, but it was like he had the wrong dictionary. 

“If that’s alright with you-” Maybe it was to hit the nail on the head, finish it off, you couldn’t say. But the urge was strong right then, just once to say it. “—babe?”

You turned to him and looked at him almost confidently. It was both your face and the pet name, but Jungkook couldn’t help but laugh. Of course, now you were going to call him babe. A grin spread across his lips.

“Okay, yeah.” He held your hand firmer and tighter. “I’d be more than happy for you to meet my parents. They’d be thrilled.”

He was a great liar. It sounded oh so very genuine.

You squeezed his hand and turned to Jimin. “I guess you can text them I’m going.”

“I think that was it,” Jungkook said, handing you the last few dirty plates. 

“Alright,” you hummed, moving around some of the dishes to make some more space in the dishwasher. 

“Oh,” Chaeyoung exclaimed in surprise upon seeing Jungkook standing there with you, “you can head out first. I’ll help Y/N.” 

She wore a smile on her lips, but you knew better. 

“It’s fine. I’ll just help-”

“No, really, get out,” Chaeyoung interrupted, slipping just the slightest bit and you gave Jungkook a look, almost reaching out for his hand and giving it a squeeze. She was curt, too curt. It surprised him, clearly. “I’m the host. I’ll clean up. Join the others in the living room.”

You offered him a nod, and with that Jungkook slipped out, receiving a more genuine smile and a quiet thank you from Chaeyoung on the way out because she knew he was more than confused by her just now. Before he even had the chance to turn to ask whether or not he should close the door, she did herself. You knew to prepare yourself, putting the stack of dishes aside. She folded her arms in front of her stomach.

This was an interrogation.

In another world (read: in a detective TV show), there’d be a metal table between you and you’d be handcuffed to it. A clock would decorate the blank walls, ticking away in the background, and the air would be chilly and humid, stifling almost. Chaeyoung would dramatically slide pictures across to you, and they would be incriminating ones, blurry but clearly depicting you in the middle of whatever crime you were accused of. She would point at them and tell you how you had one chance to tell her the truth.

“How are you?”

Just the question almost made you laugh. It was heartwarming. You knew exactly what she was trying to get out of you—if it hurt you at all that Narae had met Jungkook’s parents and he had seemingly wanted to keep you a secret. You dried your hands on the kitchen towel.

“I’m fine, thanks. How are you-”

“Are you lying?”

She took this very seriously, her face not even holding a hint of a smile. Again, in another world she’d stare you down, gaze cold and unwavering, and ask if you wanted to try again.

“Do I look like I am lying?”

You were lying about all of it, about most things concerning Jungkook and you these days. But you couldn’t say that. You couldn’t admit that the entire conversation during dinner hurt you to the degree it did, to a degree you would rather not admit, that it hurt at all to begin with. Because being hurt implied you had some sort of right to be, implied Jungkook owed you… something. And that was just not true.

Chaeyoung paused, sizing you up. It was hard to figure out what conclusion she came to, her eyes narrowed and sharp. She opened her mouth, but right then, someone announced themselves with a knock on the door. Without waiting, they poked their head in, and it could realistically only be one person. 

“What did she say?” Jisoo asked.

Were you air today?

“Says she’s fine,” Chaeyoung said, wrinkling her nose.

“You don’t believe her?” Jisoo slipped inside and slowly closed the door, making sure beforehand though that no one was in earshot. Chaeyoung scrutinised you for another moment before coming to her conclusion with a long sigh.

“No, I do.” She paused before looking at you. “You know I’d- we’d rip him into pieces for you, right?”

You had no doubt for a second they would. Actually, all of your friends would, but Chaeyoung and Jisoo would be the first ones to throw a punch.

“I do, and I love you guys for it,” you say, smiling genuinely because God, you did love your friends so much. “But you don’t have to because I’m fine. And like I said, we had talked about it. You know how I am. Parents aren’t my thing.”

“Well, for that you just agreed to go meet them,” Jisoo mumbled, scrunching her nose, and you swallowed. Maybe it was hearing it from someone else, or maybe it was because you were no longer sitting around the dinner table with everyone expectedly staring at you and awaiting for an explanation, but it finally hit you. What exactly you had agreed to. Once your mind wasn’t clouded with the thought of Narae, you realised that oh my God, you were meeting Jungkook’s parents.

It was funny how quickly things could change. How just a few minutes ago, you didn’t worry about it at all, only thinking of Narae and her stupid perfect grin and the fact she had met them, and now you were worried because what would they say about you? Would they like you? What if they were like Jaehwa’s parents and-

“Now, don’t make that face,” Chaeyoung interrupted, putting a hand on your shoulder, noticing your spiral. “They’re gonna like you.”

“Yeah, you don’t have anything to worry about at all, Y/N,” Jisoo reassured. “If anything, they should be on their best behaviour. Because if not…”

And like the amazing friend she was, Jisoo started punching the air, showing you her swift moves that she would put on Jungkook’s parents. 

“Can’t you see? They say one wrong thing, and it’d be over for them. Ji would do these weird punches and knock them right out,” Chaeyoung said. “It’s gonna be fine. Has to.”

“Also, with the way Jungkook acts with you, let’s be honest he’s head over heels for you,” Jisoo argued, putting an arm around you. “I can see him standing up for you.”

“Yeah, I hate to give a man any credit, but he would.”

“And again, if he doesn’t…” Jisoo didn’t finish her sentence, instead showing you her oh so brilliant and not wobbly but actually super fatal kick.

They both turned to you, and you slowly nodded. Maybe they were right. You didn’t necessarily think Jungkook would stand up for you, not because you didn’t believe he would but because you didn’t even let yourself go there. If you did, if you assumed he would do something like that for you, you’d be having expectations for him and you had no right to. But you knew that Chaeyoung and Jisoo would be there for you, and it was a comforting thought. That was enough. Your friends were enough. And maybe, you just liked to believe them too—that it would all somehow turn out just fine.

“Yeah, I guess,” you mumbled.

“It’s gonna be fine!” Chaeyoung repeated, squeezing your shoulder.

Before you could dwell on it any further, a knock on the kitchen door interrupted you. 

“Yeah?” Jisoo said, and a moment later, Hoseok stuck his head in, offering an apologetic smile because he obviously knew what was going on in here.

“Sorry to interrupt, but Jimin asked for you, Chae,” he said, sounding unsure. He clearly hadn’t gotten a reason as to why he was supposed to call for Chaeyoung. She frowned and seemed less than willing to go, but you saw this as a great opportunity to put an end to this conversation and move on. Ignoring the fact you were going to meet Jungkook’s parents wasn’t going to solve the issue, but right now your brain felt mushy and drained. Too much of today’s focus had been on you, you couldn’t do it any longer.

“Let’s just all go,” you said. “We’ve been here for too long anyway.”

Jisoo agreed, mumbling something about how she couldn’t leave Jennie alone with all of the guys outside any longer, not in good conscience at least. She helped you put the last few plates into the dishwasher, and hooked her arm with yours as you made your way back into the living room, her head resting on your shoulder.

“Did he say what he wanted?” Chaeyoung asked Hoseok, the two walking behind you. 

“Probably something stupid.”

And indeed it was.

Because the moment Jisoo and you had made it past the doorstep, Jimin jumped up and pointed at Chaeyoung and Hoseok. The two froze, all eyes on them, and when you turned to look, you found them in the same fate as Jungkook and you had been in earlier.

“Oh, Jimin,” you chuckled, shaking your head. He beamed with pride, chest out and a grin bigger than his entire face. 

“We aren’t-” Chaeyoung couldn’t even finish her sentence, sputtering for words. “No! This is… stupid!”

“You have to. Otherwise, it’s bad luck,” Jungkook grinned. “That’s what you said, right, Seok?”

Hoseok looked positively ready to strangle him, but you couldn’t have been prouder of him right now. Even though Jimin was the one to orchestrate this, it felt like sweet revenge to get back at Hoseok. And really, you were helping him and Chaeyoung. Maybe today was the day finally something would happen.

“Seok and I aren’t- we aren’t-”

“It’s just a kiss!” Seokjin said, and you nodded. Because as much as you felt for them, having been in their position, you knew Chaeyoung wouldn’t have come to your rescue. She might have disapproved, but she would have definitely enjoyed the show and let it go on until you kissed.

“Just do a quick peck,” Taehyung suggested, pressing a kiss to Yoongi’s cheek to demonstrate. The older one wiped his cheek and shook his head, but there was clear amusement tugging on the corners of his mouth too. You laughed at the absurdity of it all, especially when you caught the embarrassed looks on Chaeyoung’s and Hoseok’s faces.

“Also if you hadn’t walked in together like I had predicted you obviously would, you wouldn’t be in this situation,” Jimin said, and Hoseok let out a noise that could only be described as a weak and mangled attempt at faux upset. “You guys are so clearly in love with each other anyway, just kiss!”

“Oh my God,” Chaeyoung let out a scoff, but it sounded pitchy and panicked, “seriously? H-how many times do we have to tell you guys that we are just really good friends? Just like Jimin and Y/N!”

“Don’t be ridiculous here, Chae,” you laughed. “Jimin and I are just friends, but you two? Oh, please.”

“There was an attempt, huh?”

Chaeyoung glared at Jisoo, her cheeks gaining a deeper shade of red with every passing second. In a last ditch attempt, she turned to Hoseok, hoping for some backup from him.

“Tell them-”

This time when her sentence got lodged in her throat, it was for a very different reason. Because Hoseok was looking at her like he was ready to risk it all in front of everybody. Like he was ready to just say it, do something. And Chaeyoung knew, freezing to a statue.

Jisoo and you looked at each other, gasping. Her nails dug into your arm and you held onto her just as strongly. Your breath hitched in your throat as Hoseok placed a hand on Chaeyoung’s cheek, pausing and hesitating for a moment, as if he waited for her to reject him before ultimately kissing her. And instantly, she pulled him closer.

It was like a scene out of every 2000s romantic comedy, the finale of the third act, what you had all been waiting up to. It was a scene to swoon and die for. 

A sense of joy you had rarely felt overtook you, a rush. You began shaking Jisoo, mouth split into a grin. As much as you had wanted and actually still wanted to strangle Jimin tonight for bringing that stupid mistletoe, you were just about ready to kiss him (platonically and only figuratively of course).

“See!” Jimin laughed, pointing at Hoseok and Chaeyoung, both of them flushed red to the tips of their ears. But they were smiling too. This had been good.

“I can’t believe that this is how you guys get together,” Jisoo laughed, Chaeyoung and Hoseok looking at each other, his arm wrapped around her middle. They laughed, shrugging.

Jimin proudly pointed at himself, beaming brighter than a Christmas tree. “All my doing.”

“Shut up,” Yoongi laughed, trying and failing to kick him in the knee. And though his attempt wasn’t successful, it earned him a thank you! from Chaeyoung. Jimin looked over to Namjoon for some kind of help, but he simply shrugged. He scoffed when he saw Seokjin squeeze Yoongi’s shoulder, mumbling something about how he was just jealous.

“I mean… neither did I,” Hoseok chuckled, seeming still completely out of it, unbelieving.

“Thought about it a lot, huh?” Taehyung asked, grinning, and for a moment, you could see Hoseok struggling to answer, decide whether or not he wanted to admit the blatant truth, confess that he’d been imagining this more times than he should have. In the end, he cared less about saving face and looking cool, and much more about who he had his arm wrapped around, finally.

“Yeah, always.”

And just like that, Chaeyoung pulled him down for another kiss. The sight warmed Jisoo’s heart because she turned to Jennie, reaching out for her. With a slight tug, she was at Jennie’s side. You laughed, shaking your head, just to catch Jungkook looking at you. For a moment, you didn’t quite know what to do even though you weren’t the one caught staring. The same couldn’t be said about Jungkook. He didn’t seem to care at all, eyes not holding an ounce of uncertainty. It was obvious that he was much more confident and comfortable with being seen by you. Something you still weren’t at this point, not entirely at least, not right in this very moment, or… actually ever.

Jungkook didn’t say anything as he stretched his hand out. You hesitated, if just for a second. Because maybe you shouldn’t. Not when your heart was beating the way it was. And yet, you did take it, did let him pull you close and hold you and press his lips to the top of your head.

“You don’t have to meet them if you don’t want to.”

He whispered it, spoke in a soft and warm voice. His words floated to your ears, and you knew. You didn’t have to do anything ever actually. Not for him at least. He expected nothing from you. You closed your eyes, and listened to his heartbeat in his chest. Strong and firm. It was the opposite of yours. Yours was a mess, thumping and skipping beats. 

“I will.”

Jungkook smiled as bright as the sun, pressing another kiss to your head. You could feel the excitement rushing through his fingertips, his arm tightening around you. You didn’t know the reason for it, his excitement. It didn’t make sense why he would be, you weren’t his girlfriend after all. You refused to think about it, preferring the bliss of ignorance.

God, you loved him so much. You did. You loved Jungkook to an indescribable amount. And God, was it time to stop all of this.

The video had been playing for less than twenty seconds when the call came in, your phone lighting up beside you. You paused your laptop, his name taking up your entire phone screen. And though Jungkook and you had begun calling each other more frequently now, spending at least once a week on the phone together, you were confused when you glanced at the time. But you accepted the call, sliding your thumb over the glass. Some ruffling met your ears before finally, he came through.

“Hi.”

For some reason, there was a smile on your lips.

“What do you want?” you laughed, glancing at the time in the upper left corner of your phone. 01:24. “It’s late. Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“Could say the same about you,” Jungkook argued, and you rolled your eyes, scoffing slightly, already sensing where this was going. You leaned back into your couch, looking at the ceiling with renewed interest.

“I’m not tired.”

“Neither am I.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Then neither do I.”

“Well, you had a full day of classes today, so you must be at least a little tired,” you shot back, and a beat of silence passed. For a moment, it seemed like you came out victorious. 

“You know my schedule?”

The question hung in front of you, and you were glad that this was just a call. Because you could see it, his stupid face. The proud smile on his lips, the grin that adorned it. He would inch closer to you, push you to answer, and you would cave and crumble terribly. 

“... no.”

And Jungkook began laughing almost immediately, his voice booming through your phone. You cringed, biting your tongue. 

“I’m going to hang up.”

“No, no, no, don’t,” he said, still laughing however. “I’m sorry.”

His apology didn’t sound an ounce sincere, but you were never going to actually hang up. A comfortable silence passed, and you could have stayed on the phone forever.

“Oh, have you watched the newest video I sent you yet?”

“You mean the two hour long video essay about the phenomenal music scoring of Avatar?” you hummed, glancing over to your laptop to see the screen dark already. “Yeah, I was about to watch it when you called.”

Somehow, you could hear his smile forming on his lips. “You should watch it.”

“Yeah, I will,” you said, sighing and rolling your eyes.

There was silence for another few seconds. 

“What are you doing?” Jungkook asked, and you could tell he was genuinely curious. You blinked, having completely forgotten what you had been up to until he called. You looked at the ball of yarn sitting in your lap, your attempt at a scarf hanging between the two knitting needles. But you couldn’t tell him, it would ruin the surprise. 

And so, you returned the question instead. “What are you doing?”

“I asked you first.”

“I asked you second.”

Jungkook sighed. “You’re very fun to talk to sometimes, you know?”

You laughed, not missing the irony in his voice. “Thanks. You are too.”

“Just tell me,” he said, and you frowned at his poor attempt to get you to talk. 

“Why don’t you tell me first?”

He let out a small scoff, and you could picture his face perfectly. The way his tongue would be digging into his cheek and his eyes rolling back because God, you were frustrating sometimes! But there would be an undeniable smile on his lips. There always was. 

“Alright,” Jungkook said, and you raised your brows. “I’m outside.”

You frowned. “Where are you going? At this hour?”

“Why don’t you guess?” 

“Just tell me.”

He paused, hesitated. Somehow, you could hear his grin turn bigger.

“How about you look outside and see for yourself instead?”

Your heart sank in your chest, something strange taking hold of you. You moved without a thought, almost knocking over one of your pothos sitting on your window sill when you pulled the curtain aside. The glass was cool to touch, but you pressed your entire hand against it, just to feel something steady. Because right now, you felt the opposite of it, heart jumping to your throat and beating there like it was bound to fall out. Because there was no way that he was here right now! This wasn’t a cheesy romcom! But you also knew that he wouldn’t lie to you.

And he didn’t. 

There he was, standing on the sidewalk, in front of your building, phone pressed to his ear, head in his neck, mouth in a grin and waving up to you. 

You opened and closed your mouth several times, scoffing in the end and shaking your head.

“You’re so… stupid, Jeon.”

Jungkook laughed, “Well, that’s been established before.”

“You’re such a ridiculous stupid little man, Jeon!” you went on, pressing a hand to your forehead and squeezing your eyes closed for a moment. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, is it a crime now to drop by your girlfriend’s home when you miss her?”

The words rolled off his tongue with a certain confidence and ease. Two things you rarely ever had, even less around Jungkook. It always seemed so very fragile and dangerous, to be so open and vulnerable. You couldn’t snap back, tell him how ridiculous he was because you had just seen each other two days ago at the Christmas party. Hell, you had been spending almost every day with each other—either on the phone or in person driving to Seo’s bakery to pick up your needed batch of cookies or watching Avatar until you both could recite every line. And yet here he was, telling you that he missed you, so much so that he needed to see you in the middle of the night, at 1:42.

Right then, it became blatantly obvious to you—that Jungkook and you had crudely blown the lines you had established beforehand, agreed to contractually, into absolute smithereens, that you two had made new ones, dangerous ones, ones that resembled an actual relationship, and that, even worse, you had not only never talked about it but gotten used to the new rules, comfortable.

And even with that realisation lingering in your mind with big glaring bright red flags hissed high above and every possible alarm blaring in the air, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell Jungkook that this was wrong, that he should go home. You should, it would spare your sanity. But your heart had only grown bigger and fonder of him. And it was horrible because you knew even more time with him, alone, in your own four walls, was the worst thing you could do. There would be nowhere for you to go, run off to. But you couldn’t send him home. Because really, you didn’t want to. Because it did excite you. That he was here. That he had gotten up, changed, and made his way to you. That the cold hadn’t even been enough to stop him.

“Now, open up. It’s freezing. My hands and feet are already blue,” he told you, adding a dramatic shiver to his words.

You paused, frowned, searched and didn’t see it anywhere. It clicked with you. You hadn’t heard the engine or turn signal during the entirety of your call. 

“Did you- did you walk here? Why didn’t you take your car?”

“Felt like it.”

“You’re so stupid, oh my God,” you groaned, rolling your eyes as you repeatedly pressed the buzzer to open the front door for him. “Never ever do that again. It’s freezing outside!”

Jungkook responded with a laugh. It echoed on the walls of your empty lobby, reverberating through the phone. “Alright, I won’t. I promise.”

“Also, shouldn’t you be writing that stupid paper about Newton or Einstein or whatever?”

“It’s not about either of them, but I still have a bit of time until the deadline,” he explained, and you heard him walk up the stairs. “Thanks for remembering though.”

You pressed your lips together. “What if I was sleeping?”

“But you aren’t.” He sounded so incredibly smug and proud. You could have punched him. “Also, I know you, cabbage. You’d rather die than go to bed at a reasonable time.”

And somehow, that admission embarrassed you. It did. Terribly. Because he did, he did know you oh so well. 

You left the front door ajar for him, waiting there with your hands folded in front of you, fingers picking on each other, as you listened to his steps grow closer and louder. His hand was the first thing you saw, reaching and touching the doorknob, and then it was suddenly just all of him. In front of you. He smiled at your sight, and you knew you looked more embarrassed and unsure than ever before. You were relieved you still hadn’t changed the lightbulb that had burned through all those months ago, allowing the dark to obscure you from him, a soft shadow across your face. 

Jungkook shrugged off his coat, hanging it on the hook behind the front door and revealing his maroon knit sweater and black pants to you. When he looked at you again, his gaze softened.

“Hi, cabbage.” His cheeks and nose were brutally red from the wind, but he seemed as happy as ever. “I made you something.”

You noticed the metal lunchbox in his hands only when he pushed it towards you, and when you took it, it was still warm. Like whatever he had prepared, he had packed up the minute it was done and came straight to you. 

“What did you make?” you asked, and you knew he wouldn’t tell you, waiting for you to open the lunchbox instead and discover for yourself. You peeled open the lid just a little, revealing a small corner when the smell hit you. Your eyes shot to Jungkook, and he looked both sheepish and proud. 

“You didn’t.”

A gasp, your features melting. He wrinkled his nose, turned his head to the side.

“I was gonna go get some from Seo’s Bakery, but they- did you know they’re on Christmas break?”

You nodded, eyes unable to take off of him, blabbering, “Yeah, of course. They always are. Every Christmas. Have always been.”

Jungkook made a gesture towards you, shrugging. “Well, so I thought- I don’t know. I’d make you some instead. You gotta fuel your addiction somehow, right?”

There was no denying how many sweet gestures Jungkook had made ever since you’d been doing this (whatever one might classify this as). The amount of flowers and cookies he’d showered you with. The amount of smiles and laughs he’d pulled from you. The amount of love he’d shown you, even if it wasn’t real. 

You put the lunchbox aside, needing to return the gesture at least once. Leaning over your couch, you grabbed the half-finished scarf you’d made for him. You wanted to show him, reciprocate some of the affection and love. But in your haste, you forgot the ball of yarn the scarf was connected to.

“Oh, fuck.”

Like a roll of paper, it unfurled, and though it would be annoying to roll it all up again, you shoved the scarf into Jungkook’s face, uncaring.

“It’s not finished- or particularly well done. But- I made that… for you,” you hesitated, a lump lodged in your throat. “I also just chose a random colour- if you don’t like red, I could definitely change it, you know. It’s not even done-”

He took it from your hands, silencing you. Your brows knit together as you watched him admire the intricate and detailed rows of red yarn. And then, he wrapped it around his neck even though the scarf was still attached to the ball of yarn and the knitting needles were poking into his neck. 

“Wait, no,” you laughed, already reaching to take it off. “You don’t have to wear it or anything- Like I said, it’s not even done. I still have to-”

Jungkook took hold of your hands. Your eyes met his. He smiled at you. 

“You’re so cute, cabbage,” he told you, his gaze so full and soft. And you melted right then and there, your face lit up like a fire. Melted even more so when Jungkook kissed you and pressed his forehead against yours. “I love it, cabbage. Thank you so much.”

“Really?” you said it softly, delicately, anxiously.

As if it was a proper way of responding, Jungkook took your hand and placed it on his chest. You could feel it then, under your palm and fingertips, through the fabric of his sweater, his heart. 

“Really.”

And you let yourself believe him a little.

You don’t know how. It was blurry to you, all of it, but somehow, his head ended up in your lap with your fingers threading through his hair and your back pressed to the side of your bed. You both shared the batch of cookies while you finished a few more rows for the scarf before ultimately calling it, putting it to the side, promising him you’d finish it as soon as possible. Instead, a bottle of supermarket wine found its way into your hands, the glasses always filled with the red liquid. Neither of you said much. And really, there simply wasn’t a need to, the minutes ticking by as the night went on and on. An intimacy lay between you, an intimacy most would never know, an intimacy that could only come from the strange nature of your relationship. 

“What?” you said, almost laughing, sure you had to have misheard him.

“I’m serious. I really like it here,” Jungkook repeated. “I like your home, a lot.”

Your mouth opened and closed before you shook your head and laughed. “But why?”

To you, there wasn’t much to like about your home here. If anything there was more to dislike than like. It was too cramped, too small. The furniture was old and shabby and the lights didn’t even work properly. On bad days, it would get either unbearably freezing or hot in here. And on particularly bad days where your luck had run out, the water would run cold and the electricity cut out. There wasn’t much to love here, except for your big bed and pothos you had on your window sill.

“I feel like I get to see another side of you,” Jungkook told you, shrugging and wrinkling his nose. “You seem much more relaxed at home.”

You frowned. “Where else should I be relaxed if not at home?”

He rolled his eyes at your comment, shaking his head. “No, I just mean… you don’t seem on guard at home.”

“I’m on guard?”

There was a pause. He looked at you for a long time, eyes wandering across your entire face.

“Yeah, sometimes.” He wrinkled his forehead a little. “I think you used to be more on guard, or at least you were around me.” There was another pause, another beat, another moment of suspense. “Wouldn’t you say you’ve opened up to me more since you let me in here for the first time?”

The question stumped you. Because did everything really change then? You couldn’t say. To a certain degree, Jungkook was right. Things had drastically shifted between him and you. Before you would have never been in this position—on the floor together, in your home, his head in your lap and your hands combing through his hair as you shared cookies and wine. But before you would have talked about it, established rules and laws and all kinds of conditions, and gone through every possibility. Now though, the two of you had gotten awfully comfortable with just simply not.

“Why? Because I slept with you?” you quipped, knowing already even in your slightly tipsy state that it wasn’t that.

“You know that’s not what I mean,” he said, sighing. You wrinkled your nose and looked to the ceiling for a few moments, leaning your head back.

“Should I be on guard?”

“Around me?” Jungkook said, shaking his head. “No, never. I’m an honest boy.”

You laughed, even more so when you looked at him and he was grinning proudly into your face, standing by his cheesy words. “You make me want to kick you out.”

“Please don’t,” he said, offering you puppy eyes and snuggling even closer to you. “I wouldn’t know what to do if you did.”

He winced when you tugged on his hair, slightly away from you. “You’re annoying.”

Jungkook laughed, and you went back to silence for a while.

“Are you ever going to tell me what Joon and the others said to you that made you run into the bathroom the other day?”

It was probably the alcohol, all the time you had spent together, sitting there on the cold floor. Your mind wasn’t the clearest anymore, and neither was his. 

“They just told me how whipped you are for me. How deeply and madly you’re in love with me,” you snorted, teasingly inching closer to his face with each word before pulling away. 

He smiled a little, clearly expecting worse. “Really? They said that?”

“I know.” You took two big sips, downing more than half of what was in the glass, not wanting to lose that fuzzy feeling in your veins. “It’s funny, right?”

You snorted, knowing exactly what he was thinking—That was ridiculous! 

“But true.”

Jungkook didn’t hesitate. But he said it softly. So softly in fact you looked at him to check that you hadn’t made it up. When his mouth widened into a grin, you scoffed.

“Oh, shut up.”

“It’s true. I do. I am.”

It sounded so very ironic to your ears. You shook your head and scoffed. “Is that what you told Narae too?”

Her mention from your lips surprised Jungkook, his eyes growing a little wider. You were equally as taken aback. But it was true. Because you did think about it sometimes if he did and said the same things to Narae. If everything you experienced with him had been experienced before, just with someone else, someone with a perfect smile and perfect parents. 

“You don’t know me at all, Y/N,” Jungkook mumbled, and it sounded accusatory. 

Your heart dropped in your chest. It felt like you were shot, the hurt instant. You looked away, teeth sinking into your tongue. But he wasn’t off. You didn’t know Jungkook very well. Why should you though? Not like he and you were anything meaningful, like you shared anything truthful. And it was so very embarrassing, so very embarrassing that you felt hurt at all. 

Jungkook seemed to surprise himself with his words, seemed not to mean it like that because he was scrambling the very next second, lifting up from your lap and pleading for you to look his way. 

“No, no, no, I-I don’t mean it like that,” he said, voice a little higher than usual, reaching for your hand, squeezing. There’s a desperation in his voice, a panic swinging with it that he might have just ruined a perfectly fine conversation. 

“You just seem to,” he hesitated, “have this very weird and funny idea of me in your head. I-I never told Narae anything like that. You’re the first one.”

You looked at him. There was a deep crease between his brows, and he went on when you wouldn’t say anything.

“You’re the only one who’s ever made me do these weird things, you know?” He added a chuckle, but there wasn’t much humour to it at all. You tried to smile for him, feeling this conversation was taking a rather serious turn. It was in dire need of some lightness.

“I make you do weird things?” you mumbled, slightly shaking your head, looking away. “I don’t think I’m capable of that.”

“Do you really think I’d try to bake cookies for anyone else in the middle of the night? Or walk to their home at night, not knowing if they’re even actually home because I wanted to surprise them? Or send every Avatar video essay I come across? Do you really think I’d want to dress up with anyone else in a couple’s costume than you?”

You couldn’t find the right response then, your lips pressing together. It was difficult for you to say whether or not you believed him. Because you didn’t think you did, not genuinely at least, not deep down. You never really did with Jungkook, believe him. Because you never let yourself go there, not fully. In the back of your mind, you knew that this was ending, only started because of a stupid little meaningless bet, that your relationship whichever form it had morphed to had no real genuine basis. 

“Do you really think I’d tell anyone else I-”

You shoved a cookie into his mouth, silencing him. Your gaze turned sideways, it was easier to speak for you then. If you looked at Jungkook, you wouldn’t be able to say anything.

“Alright, I got it, Jeon. Now, eat your cookie and shut up,” you chuckled, and your words were accompanied with a lightness, a lightness you forced out of yourself and hoped was enough to quiet Jungkook. He stared at you, eyes big, before ultimately letting out a chuckle himself when he saw you smile at him. He held onto your hand, squeezing it. 

“If I wasn’t too lazy to reach for my phone, I’d take a picture of you right now,” he told you with his mouth stuffed, matching your tone, keeping it light and fun. It was amazing, how both of you simply moved on. He broke off a piece and held it to your mouth. You took it from his fingertips, letting him feed you. The sugar melted on your tongue. “Really thought you had learned your lesson, you know? That you were less judgemental now.”

“Shut up,” you mumbled, still chewing. He laughed when you rolled your eyes.

For a few minutes, neither of you said anything. It seemed like the moment had resolved as easily as it had come up. You took a few sips from your glass, filling it back up when you emptied it, and Jungkook shared the last bite of the cookie with you, holding the piece in front of your lips and allowing you to pull it from his fingertips. And when he kept his fingers in front of your mouth, you pressed a quick kiss to them. He smiled and took your hand into his again, fingers interlacing. 

“You’re so weird,” you said, the corners of your eyes creasing when you smiled. 

Jungkook returned it, opened his mouth to retort something clever and funny, but it was like the fire died in him, as if he simply couldn’t let the moment from before slide as easily as you both had hoped and tried for it to. He reached for it again, pulling it back on shore. His face changed, morphed into something else. You couldn’t pinpoint his exact expression, but your stomach churned. For a second, you felt this brief need to cry.

“You—” He hesitated, afraid to ask because he knew you didn’t want him to and he shouldn’t but he needed to ask. “—believe me, right?”

And somehow that question carried the entire weight of the earth because you suffocated underneath it in an instant. There seemed to be so much. It didn’t make sense, there shouldn’t be any deeper meaning behind his question. After all, he and you weren’t anything! And yet, he looked at you as if you were. When you wouldn’t respond, looked away instead, Jungkook let out a chuckle. But it sounded empty and dry, and you knew you had hurt him. 

“I’m sorry.”

There was a sadness to your words, and he noticed. It was the same kind of sadness he heard colouring your words when you had told him about Jaehwa and the heartbreak that had come with him. And he knew then not to take it to heart, your inability to believe him.

“I’m sorry. I want to- It’s just-”

There was desperation, hurt, frustration. You buried your face into your hands, eyes closing. It’s just hard sometimes! I don’t really believe anyone really, you wanted to say. But you didn’t. The admission felt too much, too hard to bring over your lips, too honest. You couldn’t do it. 

Jungkook didn’t say anything, and you waited for him to take all of his things and go. The front door would click shut and with that, you would have ruined it, all of it, the past few months. But it didn’t happen. You didn’t hear his steps moving away from you, or the front door opening. Instead, Jungkook cupped your face with both of his hands, a smile on his lips when you finally looked at him.

“It’s fine.”

And you wished it felt like that to you. Fine. But you hadn’t felt quite fine for a while now. Not since your heart began filling up every time you looked at him. 

“Is it?”

His gaze softened, melted like the first layer of snow in the early morning hours. His thumb brushed over your cheekbones, and his touch was so very warm and comforting. You closed your eyes, and he pressed his lips to yours. It did feel fine right then when he kissed you. He held you firmly and strongly, he wasn’t going to let go. Even if you might not believe him and had your doubts. Your hands curled around his shirt, and you were the one to pull it off of him. Because you needed that right now, something simple. 

“Are you sure-”

You silenced him, removing your shirt. He looked at you for another second before kissing you again. You moved up from the floor to your bed. His lips pressed to every inch of your skin, slow and delicately. Your breathing flattened, soft whimpers emerging from your throat when his hands wandered, brushed the inside of your thighs. Jungkook was everywhere, holding and gripping and squeezing and kissing. It made your chest swell, and for a second, you thought you needed a second heart. Another one to hold it all in. All the feelings brewing inside you, all of your feelings for him. It was too much to bear for your one singular heart.

He held you, stayed close. He never allowed any space between him and you, never allowed you to think he’d get up and leave. And you never let him slip away from you, not tonight, caging him in. One day he would, you were certain of it, convinced. The contract was running up with each day, but right now, he was here, closer than ever.

And in the high of it all, your breaths mixed with his, the air smelling of sweat and lust, your faces flushed and bodies sticky, there were words lying between him and you. In fact, there was so much, it felt heavy. You hoped, in vain, he would let it slide, quietly.

“Y/N, I-”

Jungkook stopped when you shook your head, pleading. You knew the ending of his sentence, he had told you it many times before. And right now, the thought of hearing it, hurt you more than it ever had before. 

“I-”

But he stopped again when you closed your eyes and pressed your lips to his in response, hands cupping his face. He hesitated at first before kissing you back, hoping you’d understand either way. That he wanted this. That he wanted you. You didn’t say it, but Jungkook knew not to cross that line, not right now. As if him not saying it would prevent the inevitable heartbreak you’d be going through in just a few weeks, would change anything. As if you didn’t already love him more than you could comprehend. As if loving him didn’t hurt you.

→ thanks for reading !! if you have any thoughts, id love to hear it!

[theemporium]

“You’re shitting me, right?”

“Nope.”

“Max—”

“What?” 

“You have your own jet. How the fuck are you not a part of the mile high club?”

Max frowned a little before shrugging. “It isn’t exactly my priority when I’m on a plane, schat.”

There were many perks you learnt that existed as a Formula One driver after you found yourself in a relationship with two of the best drivers in the world. From invitations to countless exclusive events to brand deals with high-end designers, from travelling the world for their job to having a comfy paycheck to be the best of the best. It was a whole new world your boyfriends introduced you to, and it never failed to make you head spin no matter how long you had been dating them.

But the materialistic perks were some of the easiest to spot—the prime example being the fact Max had his own jet that he travelled in when he flew around the world for the different races.

It had been another one of those races that you were currently flying out to. It had just been the three of you for the long haul flight and the boys had been trying everything in their power to stay awake for a few more hours so they wouldn’t fall victim to horrendous jet lag by the time they landed.

You had decided to try passing some time with games. But UNO was quickly abandoned when Lando kept trying to wind Max up with ‘+4’ cards. And ‘truth or dare’ was a bit pointless when you were stuck in the sky. You didn’t really want to start a full ass game of Monopoly (or question why in loving fuck one of the boys brought it in the first place), otherwise you’d be fast asleep before either of them. And every round of ‘two truths and a lie’ lasted less than a few seconds because you knew each other well.

You were left with a game of ‘never have I ever’ but it slowly stopped being a game, and somehow became some weird competition between the boys to try to outdo one another. Which, to be fair, was very amusing for you to watch. 

Until Max had dropped the bomb on you and Lando that he had never had sex on a plane. Ever.

“But,” you paused before gesturing to the plane around you. “You have the perfect setting!”

“The setting is always a plane,” Max stated bluntly. 

“Yeah but usually you’re both locked in a little bathroom, trying to be quiet and not break anything because you’re literally fucking in a box,” Lando jumped in.

Max shot him a look.

“Hey, just talking from experience,” Lando said as he lifted his hands. 

“But you have the whole fucking jet to yourself,” you continued. “You could fuck as much as you please! In any position you want!” 

He raised his brows in amusement. “Thought about it a lot?”

“Yes,” you replied without a moment of hesitation. “You don’t think about fucking us on a plane?”

“It isn’t the first place my mind goes to,” Max confessed with a shrug.

Lando’s eyes narrowed slightly, as though he was lost in thought. “Do you wanna fuck us on a plane?”

Max paused. “Like right now?”

“We need to preoccupy ourselves,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders, trying to bite back the grin that was growing on his lips. “I can think of a few things we could do.”

Your grin matched his, a glint of mischief in your eyes. “What do you say, baby? Wanna join the club?”

“We’ll teach you the ropes,” Lando added teasingly. 

Ten minutes. The teasing and the taunting and the goading lasted all of ten minutes before Max had you both wrapped around his finger. Because despite your big mouths and all your talk, it took one glance and a hand tugging your hair back before you were putty in Max’s hands, ready to comply and obey with whatever he wanted because he always seemed to be in control.

“Is this what you wanted, schat?” Max groaned as he gripped your hips, bouncing you back on his dick at the speed he desired. His cock was deep inside you, pressing against the spot that made you squirm and moan—though your mouth was otherwise preoccupied. “Wanted me to fuck you on my private jet? Wanted to show my staff what a fucking slut the two of you are?”

“Shit,” Lando whined, his hands tugging on his curls as his cock hit the back of your throat. “Max—”

“Hold it,” Max gritted out, his hands tightening on your waist as his chest heaved with soft pants. “Did I say you could come?”

“But—” Lando started, only to be cut off by his own moans.

“I said no,” Max huffed out with a shake of his head, his chin tucked into his chest as he watched the way your greedy pussy took his cock with such ease. The debauched noises echoing through the cabin only seemed to egg him on further. “Don’t be a fucking brat.”

“Please,” Lando cried, his hips bucking up into your mouth as you gagged and choked.

“Both of you are so fucking impatient,” Max grumbled as he squeezed the fat of your ass. “So quick to brag and cry. And now look at you. Two fucking whores.”

“Just for you,” Lando muttered out breathlessly. 

“Of course you are. All mine. All fucking mine.” Max groaned, his voice low and rough as he felt a rush of pleasure run down his spine. “And mine to fucking control. You come when I say you come, and I don’t think either of you deserve it yet.”

You whined, the sound muffled and pathetic with Lando’s cock down your throat, but it was enough to warrant a slap to your ass. 

“Careful, schat. Or I won’t let you come until the plane lands.”

.

[kykyonthemoon]

Where The Osmanthus Whispers

In another universe where you and Zayne grew up together without ever being apart, you have the chance to celebrate his birthday with him.

Happy birthday to our dear Zayne!

── .✦ Zayne x F.Reader (MC)

── .✦ Tags: AU, fluff, sweet, trope: childhood friends to lovers, really soft fluff, i was literally melting while writing this piece, birthday fic

── .✦ Word count: 2k2

── .✦ Ky Ky's notes: This fic was inspired by Zayne's birthday card "Eternal Attachment", especially the part where he and MC imagined what would happen if they grew up together.

For all the Zayne's girlies out there, I wish you have a blast on his birthday and all the days to come.

── .✦ Masterlist ♡ Request a fic - closed for the time being.

Where The Osmanthus Whispers

"Thank you for taking care of our boy, as well as celebrating his birthday with him on our behalf."

You responded to the two individuals on the laptop screen, saying: 

"It's nothing to worry about at all."

"Every year, we are fortunate to have you there. Otherwise, we can't bring ourselves to relax. Even though Zayne is a grown-up, taking care of his health and spending time dating are still things that concern the two of us the most."

When you were unsure of how you should respond, Zayne's mother piped up: 

"Oh my! Why did you mention that? Look how she's blushing! Surely they're really happy together, right, dear?" 

Auntie immediately turned around and asked, startling you. You attempted to clarify: 

"Ah, the truth is we aren't..."

"I know you'll take excellent care of Zayne. But hey, if he does anything to upset you, make sure to call and let me know! I will always stand by your side!”

"Auntie, we are not—"

"That is all!" We have to go now. We entrust Zayne's birthday celebration to you again this year!"

"—dating…"

Beep. Beep. Beep.

You grumbled and glanced at the screen where the call had just ended. Zayne's parents traveled away from home for business, but every year they sent him presents from the places they visited. This year, as previous ones, the present package was delivered to your address. Surely Zayne's parents knew he was too busy at the hospital all day and night to return home, so they sent it to you instead.

Every year, it was just you and Zayne celebrating his birthday together. When you were children and his family was still around, you went to his house to celebrate. Now that he had grown up, Zayne no longer wanted to throw large parties. Sometimes he even forgot his own birthday. If it were not for the wishes and presents from his parents, or the cake you brought to his place, he would probably let the anniversary slip away into oblivion.

Come to think of it, Zayne's present was sent to you, his birthday party was organized by you, his parents somehow always assumed you two were dating... If only it were like that!

You reclined back on the sofa and turned on your phone. The first name that appeared on its contact list was invariably Zayne. You tapped the call button.

After a ring, Dr. Zayne's face emerged. He was not in the office, and the scene behind him made it clear he was in the hospital cafeteria.

“I'm here.”

You smiled as a greeting. “Is Doctor Zayne on his lunch break?”

“Several colleagues invited me to lunch. What about you? Not skipping lunch, are you?”

“Nope.” You replied. “Your parents have just called. Your present has also arrived at my door."

The corner of Zayne's mouth, which was always straight, curled up a bit before swiftly returning to its natural shape. But you managed to capture that moment. 

“I will fetch it after work.”

“Hello, Doctor Zayne! Can I ask you something about this morning's meeting?” A female voice sounded very close. That was not Yvonne's. Zayne nodded back to the person whose face you could not see, then he said to you:

“Is there anything else you want to share with me?”

"No." You answered a bit bluntly. Something ugly and unpleasant began to awaken in your mind. 

“I'll see you later then.” 

Zayne spoke. Then the screen switched off. You laid down on the sofa and glanced up at the ceiling, mind buzzing with the conversation at Akso Hospital a few days before.

Long story short, you were telling Nurse Yvonne about your plans for a celebration on Zayne's birthday. Greyson overheard it and volunteered to help. During the discussion, he mentioned:

“Recently there have been a lot of female interns coming to the hospital. They all appear to be big fans of Doctor Zayne. Aren’t you jealous?"

"Erm…" You were confused for a second. 

Greyson shook his head, as if he had no choice but to deal with the situation. "You're too subjective. Although Dr. Zayne is incredibly devoted and trustworthy, a little jealousy like this may spice things up and bring the two of you even closer to each other."

“I… Wait, what are you talking about?…”

After then, you were forced to spend half an hour listening to Greyson as the "guru" of your relationship with Zayne. Apparently, he, like everyone else, believed you and Doctor Zayne were romantically involved. You attempted to find a way to clarify it, but Greyson did not give you a chance. So you wondered how a person who claimed to know so much about love like himself could still be single.

In your room, you rolled back and forth on the sofa. At last, you decided to stop being concerned about it and focus on arranging Zayne's birthday party, which was just around the corner.

Everything went according to plan. Even Zayne, who was undoubtedly aware of the surprise party planned for him, followed your requests in a more obedient way. Thanks to the help of Doctors Riley, Greyson and Yvonne, the birthday party at the villa in the woodland happened especially warm and pleasant. Zayne was also genuinely delighted.

But it was not the only present you had prepared for him. As a child, Zayne's parents once told him, "The blessing given to you by the first stranger you meet on your birthday will supposedly come true". That was why you made the effort to ensure that the first person he saw on his birthday morning every year was you. This year was no different.

Zayne arrived at the destination on time. The modest food truck you rented in the forest was stocked with sweets and pastries. Zayne sampled all of the treats, but his absolute favorite was the frosted sugar cookies that you made by yourself. Following that, he proposed that you two go for a stroll around.

The osmanthus woodland was dyed yellow. The mellow fall sunlight, along with the crisp air, was quite pleasant. The dry leaves rustled under your feet as you ventured alongside Zayne. After a time, you decided to break the stillness:

“Last night, I dreamed of something very strange.”

Zayne slowed down and looked at you, wondering: "Is there any dream of yours that isn't strange?"

You threw him a glance, then laughed:

“It really was! Well, I dreamed of us in another world. There, Zayne moved far away from me when he was a child. We didn't keep in touch anymore. When we grew up, you became Doctor Zayne, and I was your patient.”

Zayne remained silent so you could finish your narrative, but he gazed at you as if he were anxious that your dream would come true and the two of you would be separated for a prolonged amount of time.

"In my dream, I always regretted not being with Zayne on your birthdays... But, if we really lost contact with each other many years ago, do you think we would see each other again?”

"Of course." Zayne responded without thinking too much. "Because of your negligence and lack of knowledge about health care, you would most likely need to visit the hospital on a regular basis. Then we would meet again."

You frowned. "Look who's talking! Last year, you tried to work on your birthday. It wasn't until late at night that you returned home to celebrate with me. If you didn't get a break this year, you'd definitely spend the entire day at the hospital, right?"

Zayne's footsteps came to an absolute halt. You had both just arrived at the lakeshore. Sunlight and osmanthus flowers appeared to pour gold into the lake. Shimmering. He turned to you and replied:

"Since someone took the trouble to organize a big birthday celebration for me, I must participate wholeheartedly. Otherwise, she would be extremely sad."

You smiled.

“I know that Doctor Zayne constantly prioritizes the health of others. But to me, your health is equally important. Come to think of it... The me in that dream didn't get to celebrate birthday with Zayne every year... She had many regrets. If we hadn't grown up together, things would be very different now, right?"

“That's right,” Zayne replied, “The me in your dreams would not have someone to celebrate his birthday with every year. The box containing his presents from someone important would be empty. No one would ask him to help with homework but ended up falling asleep instead. He would not know who to comfort with ice cream. His sleeves would not get wet because someone's hand was holding too tightly when they went to the beach for fireworks together. His shadow beneath the moon would be very lonely on the long road..."

Zayne hesitated. He reached out to pick up the yellow blossom that had just fallen onto your hair. 

“But even so, he would try hard to see his childhood friend again. They would be together again, making up for all the regrets during the time they were apart. They would always have each other in the later years. Just as we are now.”

For a moment there, you were unsure of what to say. Emotions surged in your heart, driving you to cry. You suppressed it, turned to face the lake and said:

“I really admire the me in that dream. Because she was free to express her feelings to Zayne… Because she wasn't…”

"Wasn't?" Zayne inquired out of curiosity.

"Nothing. I'm just wondering, if we weren't friends who grew up together, would things be clearer? For instance,... your parents, colleagues, classmates, patients, and others would not misunderstand the relationship between us..."

"Misunderstand?"

Confusion appeared on Zayne's face. You observed a golden flower descending onto his hair. Standing on tiptoe, you assisted him in taking it down. All of a sudden, Zayne grabbed your wrist. His eyes locked with you.

“Are you saying others are misunderstanding us?”

"Yes." You responded quietly. “They think we're… well… dating.”

“Are we not?”

"Huh?!"

The wind whistled. Flowers and leaves rustled together. Above your head, below your feet. But the sound of your heart beating was louder and clearer than anything. Zayne's hand traveled gently around your wrist, eventually grasping the osmanthus flower you were holding. He separated your fingers so that they would interlace with his.

"In the past, when I was about to leave home to attend a far-away school, there was a girl who gathered all of her courage to tell me this, 'Zayne, don't date anyone! I'll grow up soon! Wait for me!’ I kept my word to her. But it appears she has already forgotten what she told me."

The skin on your face was heated. You made an effort to turn away to hide your shyness, but Zayne frantically ran his hand through your hair, keeping your face toward him. You muttered:

"I was still a kid at that time... You skipped many grades and transferred to Linkon… I was so afraid we wouldn't be able to see each other anymore…”

You had said those words, that you wanted Zayne to wait until you grew up. You did not dare to consider the possibility that he would grow up before you did and eventually date someone else. You would no longer be able to be with him. Those childish words of yours were still kept in his heart until this moment.

“That's why I tried to study hard and looked forward to visiting you every weekend. I waited until you graduated, until you started your career. I counted every day off to be by your side. I don't expect you to recall what you said to me in our childhood. But, given how you are always at my side, taking care of me, and sharing your life with me, I assumed everything was obvious by now. That we belong together.”

“Well…” You tried to reorganize the words in your tangled emotions. Zayne and you had always been together like this. You had long been more than just friends. But you were always terrified of crossing that boundary just to discover he would not have the same feelings for you. The bridge of your nose burned slightly as you pressed your face against Zayne's massive palm, which had always protected you.

"I regret not expressing my feelings properly to you sooner." Zayne spoke gently. He took a step forward and hugged you. “Honestly, I am not good with words. I believed that simply being close to you was enough to convey my feelings. But it concerned you even more, which was not my intention."

You smiled softly, arms wrapping around Zayne's back.

"I wasn't certain I was that special in Zayne's heart. So I kept hesitating, doubting you, doubting myself... Now I understand. I know that I am able to freely express my feelings to you, just like the girl in my dream. Thank you, Zayne.”

Zayne's breath merged with yours, carrying the aroma of osmanthus and pastries. He whispered:

“Then I should learn to express my emotions even more. Starting now.”

Zayne's golden gaze focused on the corner of your lips. His fingers caressed your face in such a delicate manner. You smiled, eyelids half-closed. He leaned down to offer you the most tender kiss of all. Osmanthus blossoms fluttered in the breeze, delivering to you and Zayne the blessings of autumn.

[obitos-whore]

How the Naruto men react to their crush kissing their cheek as a "thank you". (Kakashi, Obito, Gaara, Kankuro, Shisui, Itachi, Sasuke, Madara)

────────────────────────────────────

Kakashi

Lets out a soft "Eh??" sound and quickly turns his head towards you, his eyes widened in shock

Thanks to his mask, you can't really see his cheeks heating up and turning cherry red (at least that's what he's thinking)

Will try his best to keep his composure but fails and just shifts his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other

His touch starved mind is a complete mess and can't seem to make sense of your sudden action

Will think about the kiss nonstop and touch his cheek every now and then when you're not around

Obito

Obito.exe has stopped working

Obito's face turns bright red instantly and he immediately begins to stammer like a flustered schoolboy

"Wha-what was that for???"

Tries to somehow not be awkward and accidentally ends up acting even more awkward, much to your amusement

When he is all by himself, he will giggle to himself and will walk around with the goofiest and brightest grin

Gaara

His eyes widen instantly and he stares at you completely dumbfounded and with a light shade of pink on his face

"What... was that for, Y/n?"

Can feel his heart racing and fears it might burst out of his chest any second

Congrats, you just made him fall in love with you even more

Afterwards he looks longingly at your lips ever so often, imagining how it would feel to kiss them

Kankuro

Shy boy

Tries to act tough but fails miserably

He doesn't want to look like a total idiot in front of you, but he can't really stop himself from blushing. And his face painting does absolutely nothing to cover it

Attempts to communicate with you in coherent sentences, without stumbling over his words and thinks he got it (he doesn't)

If Temari was there to witness it, she will never stop teasing him about his 'amazing' performance

Shisui

Grins like a total goofball and playfully offers you his other cheek as well

"You missed a spot, sweetcheeks."

On the outside he's completely chill about it, but mentally he's kicking his feet and giggling like a child in a candy store

Will take this as an invitation to flirt with you and may or may not give you a peck in return (he will)

Brags about this to Itachi

Itachi

Completely lost when your lips touch his cheek

"You kissed me." He states in a matter of fact tone while keeping a cool exterior

He may look unbothered by it on the outside, but on the inside he feels all fuzzy and tingly damn butterflies

Has to resist the urge to just kiss you back

Although he doesn't want to get his hopes up too high, he suspects that you might like him more than a friend. At least a little bit

Sasuke

Instantly pulls away and stares at you like a deer in headlights before regaining his composure and crossing his arms in front of his chest

Pretends he finds it annoying, but secretly likes it

Literally fighting for his life to keep his cheeks from being anything but a healthy peach colour

Can't stop thinking about it and wonders why you would kiss his cheek in the first place if a simple "Thank you" would've sufficed

Ends up doing you more favours, hoping you'll kiss him again

Madara

Lets out a soft grunt with his arms crossed

Tries so hard to not show any sort of reaction but ends up smirking before reaching out, grabbing your chin and kissing you back right at your mouth

"That's how you give a proper kiss, dear."

Basking in your flustered reaction and enjoying every second of it

Gives you another smirk before he walks off casually as if he didn't just steal your lips virginity

[fairyybngtn]

Pairing: Armando Aretas x Black Reader

Genre: Jealousy/Fluff??

Warning: use of the n word and slight smut

Note: this is my first time ever writing anything so it might not be good. I been wanting more Armando fics but people barely be uploading anymore so I had to step in lol. (Also I added Megan in it…am I the only one that seen Jacob and Megan together cause nobody is talking about it)😭

Summary: A night at the club with your coworker, whom you secretly had a crush on, altered the dynamic between you two. What was meant to be a one-time thing spiraled into a whirlwind of feelings you struggled to navigate. Everything shifts when a new girl joins the team, and Armando seems to take an interest in her.

Tired was an understatement. After countless hours debriefing and working on the latest case, all you wanted was to collapse into bed, pour yourself a glass of wine, and binge-watch Love Island. But it was your coworker and best friend Kelly’s birthday, and she was adamant about hitting the club. "Why don’t you invite Armando?" Kelly suggested, her excitement barely contained. You looked at her like she was stupid. “Armando? Really? He doesn’t seem like the type to hang out with coworkers, especially not at a club.” Kelly persisted, oblivious to your hesitation. You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Kelly, I don’t even know if he likes going out, let alone to a club. And besides, he barely acknowledges me at work.”

“He doesn’t have to hang out with us,” Kelly pointed out. “Rita, Dorn, Marcus, and Mike will be there too.”

You considered her words, the idea starting to seem less far-fetched. Still, you were uncertain. “I suppose. But what if he doesn’t even show up? And what if things are awkward?”

Kelly gave you an encouraging smile. “Come on, just give it a try. It's my birthday, and I want all my friends there, including the mysterious Armando. You never know, maybe this will be the night everything changes." Reluctantly, you agreed, sending a quick text to Armando, half expecting no response. But to your surprise, he replied almost immediately, agreeing to join.

After work, you went over to Kelly’s house so that you two could get ready. You were wearing an oversized sweater and sweatpants and had no idea what to wear. Kelly said, "Girl, your body is literally banging. Let’s show it off tonight!” She pulled out a dress that looked too small for you to fit. It was a black, snug dress that hugged every curve. You hated wearing anything tight, but because it was your best friend's birthday, you wore it anyway. You did your hair, deciding to let your curls out instead of the usual slick-back bun, and fixed up your edges. Kelly looked you over and grinned. "You look stunning. Tonight’s gonna be unforgettable."

You two were on your way to the club. When you arrived, the place was packed, and the sound of Sexxy Red’s "Fuck My Baby Daddy" playing got you excited for what the night had in store. You walked until you found the rest of your coworkers: Dorn, Mike, Marcus, and Rita. Mike, flirting as usual, said, "You need to dress like this more often. If I were around your age, I'd be all over you."

You laughed it off, but you didn’t see Armando and assumed he hadn’t come. You sat down with Marcus and Rita, taking your time to warm up to the large crowd. As you did some people-watching, you finally spotted Armando leaning against the bar, and your heart skipped a beat. He wore a fitted black shirt and dark jeans, a gold chain glinting under the neon lights. His hair was freshly styled, and he exuded a confidence that seemed so different from his usual office demeanor. He walked up to the group, greeting everyone. His uncle Marcus said, "Damn, that Lowery DNA is a bitch," seeing the resemblance between him and Mike. Armando looked at you and smiled.

"You look amazing tonight," he said, his eyes lingering on you with an intensity that made your breath catch. This was the most he had spoken to you since you started working together. Your cheeks flushed under his gaze, feeling the magnetic pull between you.

"Thanks," you replied, your voice barely audible over the music. "You look pretty different outside the office too." His smile widened, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Glad you noticed."

"Want a drink?" he asked. You nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. As the night went on, one drink turned into several, and your best friend Kelly soon interrupted your conversation with the others. Her song "TGIF" by Glorilla came on, and she pulled you to the dance floor. Normally, you wouldn’t dance so openly but after seven drinks you had no care in the world and now here you were in the middle of the club with your best friend Kelly twerking together.

Unbeknownst to you, Armando made his way towards you. The distance that usually separated you at work seemed to dissolve. Here you were, throwing it back on Armando, who was catching every movement. The heat between you was undeniable, a magnetic pull that drew you closer with each passing moment. His hands rested on your hips, guiding your movements as you swayed to the rhythm of the music. The crowded dance floor seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your own world.

As the night wore on, the tension between you two intensified. The proximity, the stolen glances, the subtle touches – it all built up to a crescendo. When Armando’s lips finally met yours, it was like a spark igniting a wildfire. The kiss was urgent, filled with pent-up desire and longing. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, and your eyes hungrily traced the outline of his form. His bulging veins, the prominent bulge in his jeans – every detail fueled your growing desire. The kiss deepened, and the world around you seemed to vanish, leaving just the two of you in a whirlwind of passion and longing.

"Let's get out of here," he murmured against your lips, his breath hot on your skin. You nodded, your mind a haze of desire. He grasped your hand and guided you through the swarm of people and out into the cool night air. By the time you reached his car, you were already tangled in each other, the tight space only heightening the intensity of your longing. When you finally arrived at his place, the anticipation was almost too much to bear. The moment the door closed behind you, he pushed you gently against it, his mouth capturing yours in a fierce, heated kiss. His hands roamed over you exploring and memorizing every curve of your body.

You couldn't resist any longer you pushed Armando back against the arm of the couch as you climbed into his lap. He responded eagerly, his hands roaming up your thighs to grasp your ass, pressing you firmly against his growing erection. His grunts mingled with your soft moans as you grind against each other, but it wasn't long before his impatience got the better of him.

With a swift motion, Armando lifted you and carried you to lay you down on the bed, his gaze dark with desire as he took in the sight of you. He moved to climb on top of you, but you were quicker, grabbing his arm and pulling him down so that he was flat on his back, with you straddling his waist. His hard cock pressed enticingly against your clothed cunt, just waiting to be released. His hands gripped your hips tightly as you rocked against him, the friction sending shivers of pleasure through both of you. You could feel his hardness through the thin fabric, driving your desire even higher.

“Me estás volviendo loca" he growled, his thick Spanish accent laced with lust as his eyes locked onto yours.

"Good," you replied with a mischievous smile.

Your fingers worked quickly to undo his jeans, freeing his cock. His breath hitched as you positioned yourself, sliding your panties aside and sinking down onto him in one smooth motion. The sensation of him filling you was electrifying, both of you groaning in unison. Your hands braced against his chest as you began to move, riding him with a rhythm that drove you both wild. The sounds of his rough groans and the intense heat between you heightened the moment, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through you. Not wanting you to reach climax just yet, he flipped you over onto your stomach and pounded into you roughly. His hands gripped your hips firmly, and he leaned over to kiss along your jaw, his lips brushing your skin with each passionate thrust. The sound of his thick Spanish accent giving you praises, mixed with his low moans, pushed you over the edge. With one last powerful thrust, you both came together, the intensity of the moment leaving you breathless and entwined. When you finally sank into each other's arms, exhausted and satisfied, you knew your relationship would never be the same again.

The next morning, you woke up before Armando, the weight of what had happened hitting you like a truck. The whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you was overwhelming, and you left without speaking to him. Armando had always been a distant crush, someone you admired from afar. But now, the lines had blurred, and you found yourself tangled in feelings you didn’t know how to acknowledge. As you gathered your clothes, you glanced back at Armando, a pang of longing striking your heart. All you wanted was to stay wrapped in his arms, but the weight of last night’s events pushed you to flee. Checking your phone, you saw a bunch of missed calls and texts from Kelly, wondering where you had gone. With a deep breath, you dialed her number, ready to face the aftermath.

“Girl, where did you disappear last night?” Kelly's voice was laced with curiosity and concern.

You hesitated for a moment, then blurted out, “I left with Armando. We… ended up at his place.”

Kelly’s gasp was audible even through the phone. “No way! What happened? Spill!”

“Girl, I don’t even know where to begin,” you admitted. “All I remember is us dancing together and then going back to his place... We slept together.” The weight of your confession hit you hard. “I don’t know what to do now...”

“Wow,” Kelly said, stunned. “Are you okay?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure,” you admitted. “I just need some time to figure things out.”

Weeks passed, and finding a new normal became a struggle. The memory of that night lingered in your mind, a constant reminder of what had happened whenever you saw him. At work, things seemed to fall back into their usual rhythm, but the atmosphere was charged with an underlying tension. Armando barely acknowledged you, and when he did, his responses were curt and one-worded. Whether it was during meetings or on missions, he made a deliberate effort to keep his distance, intensifying the emotional strain of your interactions. You found yourself constantly thinking about him, the memory of his touch and the way he made you feel. It was impossible to focus, and the unresolved emotions gnawed at you, making it difficult to move on. Every interaction with Armando, no matter how brief, was charged with unspoken words and lingering glances.

One day, as you passed each other in the hallway, his gaze met yours for a moment longer than usual. There was something in his eyes, a mixture of regret and longing that mirrored your own feelings. But before you could say anything, he looked away and continued on his way, leaving you standing there, your heart pounding in your chest. The tension between you two was palpable, and you knew that sooner or later, you would have to confront it. But for now, you were caught in a limbo of uncertainty, waiting for the right moment to address the complicated emotions that had taken root in your heart.

The next day, Mike and Rita called a meeting to let us know a new person would be joining the tech team. Her name was Lana. When she entered, it was like a burst of sunshine filled the room. She had a vibrant, bubbly personality that instantly drew everyone in. It didn’t take long for everyone, including Armando, to take a liking to her. You watched from a distance as he laughed with her, their conversations flowing effortlessly. He never did that with you, but could you blame him? You never took the chance to talk to him, still holding a grudge against him for what he did to Captain Howard. Jealousy gnawed at your insides, a constant reminder of the unresolved feelings from that night with him.

One afternoon, you walked into the break room to find Armando and Lana in deep conversation so engrossed together that they didn’t even notice you walk in. You felt a pang in your chest, the reality of the situation hitting you hard.

"Hey," you said, trying to sound casual. They both looked up, and Armando's smile faltered for a moment before he greeted you.

"Hey, how's it going?" he asked.

You forced a smile. "Good, just grabbing a coffee." As you turned to leave, you heard Lana ask Armando something, her voice light and teasing. You couldn't make out the words, but the laughter that followed felt like a punch to the gut. Tears clouded your vision, and you quickly left the room before anyone could see you cry. You ran to the bathroom and, with trembling hands, texted Kelly.

"Kelly, can you come to the bathroom? I need you," you typed, your fingers barely able to hit the right keys through your tears. Moments later, your phone buzzed with Kelly's response. "I'm on my way. What happened?" You tried to steady your breathing as you waited. When Kelly finally arrived, she found you sitting on the floor, your face buried in your hands.

"Hey, I'm here. What's going on?" she asked, concern lacing her voice.

You looked up at her, tears streaming down your face. "It's Armando. I walked in on him and Lana. They were so close, laughing, talking... I don't know what to do."

Kelly sat down next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "I'm so sorry. Armando is an idiot if he doesn't see how amazing you are. But you need to decide what you want. Do you want to talk to him and try to work things out, or is it time to move on?"

You sniffled, trying to gather your thoughts. "I don't know, Kelly. I still have feelings for him, but seeing him with Lana hurt so much. I'm scared of getting hurt again." Kelly hugged you tighter. "Whatever you decide, I'm here for you. Just remember to take care of yourself first. You deserve to be happy." You nodded, feeling a bit of comfort in her words. "Thanks, Kelly. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Anytime," she said, giving you a reassuring smile. "Now, let's get out of here and go get some drinks,” Kelly said, helping you to your feet. With some convincing from her, you agreed to head back to the same club. Though hesitant, not wanting any feelings about that night to resurface, Kelly's persistence won you over. Unknowingly to you, Armando was there too. You sat at the bar, waiting to get drinks for you and Kelly, lost in your thoughts, when a familiar voice interrupted them.

"Mind if I join you?" Armando asked, his expression unreadable. You stiffened, but gestured to the empty seat next to you. "Sure." For a moment, neither of you spoke, the thumping bass of Megan Thee Stallion’s “Thot Shit” filling the silence. Finally, Armando took a deep breath and broke the tension.

"I've been meaning to talk to you about that night," he said, his voice barely audible over the noise. "I didn't want things to be awkward between us."

You looked at him, your heart pounding. "It's not just about that night, Armando. It's about everything since then. I know I left without saying anything to you, and I regret doing it, but it feels like you’ve been toying with me. Keeping your distance, giving me one-word responses... and Lana," you said slowly, locking eyes with him.

Armando's expression softened, and he leaned closer. "I never meant to toy with you. Lana and I are just friends. I didn't realize how it looked from your perspective."

"You didn't realize?"... “Nigga really?” you echoed, frustration bubbling up. "How could you not see it? Every time I see you two together, it's like a knife in my heart."

"I know, and I'm sorry," he said earnestly. "I was trying to keep things professional and not make things awkward, but I see now that I ended up doing the opposite." His phone buzzed again, and you saw Lana's name flash on the screen. The sight of it was too much to bear. "See, this the shit I'm talking about just go be with her, Armando."

You got up to go back to Kelly when he reached out to grab your hand gently. "No, listen to me. Lana isn't who I want. You are." Your heart skipped a beat, but doubt still lingered. "Then why didn't you say anything before? Why let me suffer in silence?"

"I was scared," he admitted, his voice raw. "Scared of making things worse, scared of losing you. But I can't keep pretending. I have feelings for you, real feelings, and I want to be with you." The sincerity in his eyes made your resolve waver as this is the most emotional you ever seen Armando. “If that's true, then we need to start being honest with each other. “No more games and hiding how we really feel about each other."

He nodded, a look of relief washing over his face. "Agreed. No more hiding.”

You took a deep breath, feeling the tension start to lift. "Okay. But you have to prove it, Armando. Show me that you're serious."

“Mami, te puedo mostrar cómo puedo demostrarlo.” he replied, a smirk playing on his lips. You couldn’t help but laugh at his comment. As the noise of the club swirled around you, a glimmer of hope began to stir within you. Maybe, just maybe, things could be different this time.

Translations

“ Mami, te puedo mostrar cómo puedo demostrarlo.” - Mami I can show you how I can prove it

“Me estás volviendo loca - You’re driving me crazy

[antimony-medusa]

Someone asked me for notes on writing technoblade so:

this is how I do characterization, just in random order.

deadpan or "dry" but not monotone— he's often quite expressive just in a deadpan way.

FUNNY. Humour is hard though so you can skate by on just being sarcastic and deadpan.

Sarcastic.

doesn't often say that someone is important to him in words, not in a literal fashion— the reason why things like "for you the world" or "my best friend" or "bro" or "good friend and disciple" gets celebrated is because he wouldn't say that sort of thing often. He is not out here calling people sunshine. Techno's out here saying "oh I'm not endeared" and "there's a RACCOON in my basement" and "that's what I'd expect from you, old man", but at the same time in actions he's very clearly showing that he cares— fight alongside someone, give them gifts, invite them to stay. Complaining about being woken up and how he needs his beauty sleep and how he's gonna wither to ashes while he makes you supper and won't let you apologize and sets up the guest room for you. And then says of course he's doing it he values this friendship. and then tells you how you could make anything you want for breakfast don't wake him before ten or he'll crumble to dust

especially with phil, very rarely MEAN/cutting, even while bantering and complaining— he'll call him an old man who's fallen off but he won't make fun of how he talks or call him stupid or a burden or tell him to shut up. He will tell tommy to stop talking but that would be because tommy was yelling his opinions at people like a grackle

anxiety— he wins fights because he overprepares. the beginning of every stream is so much brewing and armour and grinding. The world is dangerous and the only way to face it is to Git Gud. HE WILL BE GRINDING.

loves animals.

general-purpose nerd. people boil this down to english-major a lot, but things I have heard technoblade go on tangents about include math, psychology, greek mythology, metaphor, and How To Balance The Game

canonically into golf? I don't use that but yeah.

it's fair if I can grind the game sufficiently to make it work. will use exploits and edge cases and also expects them to be used against him cause that's just the game we're playing, right?

dark humour. this is a guy who made jokes about his execution and then his cancer. If he is in peril or something terrible is happening he will be joking about it. Most of the time however that is very carefully dark humour that is about, in the metaphor, him on the gallows, not being part of the crowd at a public execution.

Neurodivergent. This Man Has ADHD. in-game he had the zoomies a lot, he jumped conversational topics, he got distracted and missed stuff.

socially uncomfortable but has social skills— you see the discomfort especially on places like SMPearth or when he's not in a highly scripted lore call. He'll be falling back on silence or falling out of the conversation unless he's comfortable with people, and then you see WAY more of the fast joking, on a sliding scale of how comfortable he was with people. You can absolutely tell if he's comfortable with people and it correlates to how much company manners he's putting on. Like he'll make the effort socially, but you can tell he's plotting his escape from this conversation most of the time on SMPearth unless with his allies.

you can get an incredibly long way with dropping your gs, "bruh", and deadpan sarcasm.

kinda guy to use "wanna" and "soporific" in the same sentence. Big vocabulary, informal mode of speaking unless he's giving a prepared speech.

On SMPearth jokes about world conquest and domination, on DSMP jokes about being the bad guy/withers/terrorism, on origins jokes about cancer.

Will talk himself up as the best and powerful while also in a way that implies he doesn't really believe that or think it's important. First Try, Chat, he'll say, while very clearly and obviously going for the sixth try. Didn't even sweat, while a moment ago he was audibly panicking down the mic. Kinda guy to talk about his enormous clout and then turn the conversation around to how Ranboo has higher viewership and he personally has fallen off and is dying and being flattened— not in a complaining way, but in a "you're doing so awesome you beat me so good great game" way.

does not swear while on stream. We know he swore off-stream but those clips are few and far between. You will get people twitch if you have techno swearing though.

I've run out of thoughts, does anyone else have more ideas for Techno characterization?

[anticanonsposts]

Early flirting/relationship things

(I'm just thinking out loud)

SFW:

i feel like when you first start to flirt with him he is kind of oblivious

talking to you already makes him so nervous so I think if you were intentionally being flirty he would already be so nervous that he wouldn’t notice

when you two do officially start going out…

he tends to make very prolonged eye contact when talking to you

especially when you guys go on more ‘traditional’ restaurant style dates 

like his eyes would NOT leave you 

defo from the beginning he pays for EVERYTHING 

even when he doesn’t fucking get anything

one time he invited you for coffee and pastries, you got there, and he didn’t order anything…

he said oh no I’m not hungry but like he wasn’t being rude, he wasn’t doing it for any other reason

but he still insisted on paying 

(he really just wanted an excuse to see you and used food) 

idk why but I feel like at the beginning he would be a little cautious about eating around you

i just feel like sometimes with social anxiety, eating in front of people can be more difficult

so i feel like he would eat a more ‘normal’ amount/portion instead of his normal much bigger amount

but his stomach would give him hell so usually after he took you out to lunch or something, on the drive home or wherever you were going next he’d ask if you wanted to stop somewhere for a ‘snack’ 

then he would eat a whole other meal 

he kept doing this until you were ordering at a restaurant once and you just touched his arm and said ‘is that all you want? Get more if you’re hungry babe’ 

and he realized he wasn’t as slick as he thought 

from then on he’s just your human garbage disposal 

any time you have left overs you don’t want, already taken care of 

considering he isn’t from the US (this only applies ig if y’all are living in the US) 

i always see people from the states go on vacation in other places and they lose weight because the food is better quality/better for you/less banned ingredients lol anywhere outside of the U.S.

i think the reverse would happen for König

one thing about him, guy likes to eat

so I think when he first comes here he’s a little overwhelmed by all of the snack/food options and would gain a decent amount of weight 

also regardless of where you guys live/where you are from/your heritage I think he would love learning about your cultural foods and your favorite foods, he would want to try everything 

not food related…

before moving in together, the guy would get so giddy whenever you spent the night with him

especially when you would forget or leave stuff at his house

it would brighten his day when you aren’t there and he sees something of yours, like a body care product, a perfume (which he would defo steal/hide forever), or a piece of clothing

in the most wholesome way possible, he would love being in bed with you 

just being cozy and feeling your body against his 

he would also start sleeping better the more you guys slept together 

i honestly don’t think he’s super picky about cuddle position, as long as you two are wrapped around each other in some way, he doesn’t give a fuck <3

NSFW: MDNI!!!

things that i think definitely happen before you guys’ first time together…

literally googles ‘how to eat pussy’

idk if I headcanon him as a virgin or not, considering I like to write about mid 20s him, more likely??

for sure he doesn’t have much relationship experience, like bullied, then 17 joined the military, not much opportunity there

but sex, maybe he’s had sex before, but either way would be really nervous about pleasing you 

first time together he really wants you to lead the way but honestly

he gets super into it very quickly and just gets obsessed with how you feel

basically devours your face and neck with his mouth 

when he is finally able to pull himself away he eats you out for so fucking long

at least 3 orgasms with is mouth/hands because he is nervous and making you cum makes him less nervous and because let's face it….dude has a third leg

he wants to make sure you are prepped enough that he won’t cause any discomfort 

i think he would be very attentive to facial expressions and body language during sex, so when you looked a little nervous after seeing how big he was he rushed to comfort you but you just said-

‘don’t worry, I’ll make it fit’ which ngl besides the amount of concern he had for you made him even more flustered 

i also think this man is just vocal in general, but ESPECIALLY at the beginning 

partly bc he wanted you to know it felt good but also because it was just so overwhelmingly good 

[princessreila]

Like fear, like love.

Summary: Some of the diaboys comforting you when you have an anxiety/panic attack.

Characters: Shu Sakamaki, Ayato Sakamaki, Laito Sakamaki, Subaru Sakamaki, Ruki Mukami, Kou Mukami, Yuma Mukami, Azusa Mukami, gn! reader.

Tags/warnings: hurt/comfort, fluff, mentions of anxiety.

❀ Shu Sakamaki.

“The grounding warmth of a blanket in the cold hours of dawn; vivid sun hues on the dull horizon.”

When you are scared or anxious, Shu is the type to pull you down into bed (or whichever random place he happened to fall asleep at) with him. Even if he seems unbothered, his heart literally breaks when he sees you going through trying times.

So he tries to do for you what works for him; trying to get you to rest, even sharing his earphones with you, the soothing notes of a classical melody lulling you into dreams with him.

And you can’t see it, but his ocean eyes soften when you finally calm down, having fallen asleep with your hand still in his.

His free hand brushes stray hairs away from your eyes,

“Sweet dreams.” He murmurs. 

Even though he doesn’t like to see you suffer, he’s happy he can take care of you.

❀ Ayato Sakamaki.

“Sparks of a crackling fire, propagating against the rain, brighter than lightning.”

At first glance, Ayato might not seem like the mist detail-oriented guy, but he is pretty perceptive and intelligent despite his silly moments (and he is not given enough credit for it!)

Especially, when it comes to your feelings and little shifts in your mood.

Initially, he tries to lighten the mood with his usual “Oi, you should be happier to be in the presence of Ore-sama, why are you looking so depressed?”

But when all you give him is a meek hum, then you can see a concerned crease between his brows, that cute expression he does where he goes wide eyed and pouts a little.

The redhead wraps his arms around you, leaning his head on your shoulder, a silent invitation to play with his hair, to keep you distracted.

“If something’s happened, you know I, the great Ayato, will protect you.”

❀ Laito Sakamaki.

“The language of wordless lips over heated skin, the unholy touch of deft hands in the dark.”

Laito’s probably the most versed in understanding another’s feelings out of everyone here. A subtle change in the way you move and carry yourself, the small crease in between your brows, or the way your jaw tightens; those speak volumes to him, and he knows right away that something is not right.

He tries to distract you in the way he knows better: sultry words whispered in your ear, in the dim light of his bedroom; his hand sneaking beneath your shirt, lingering dangerously low on your hips; his sensuous lips trailing your neck and shoulder, pointed fangs sinking in your skin, the afterglow of his kisses ardently addictive.

You try to stop him at first, not because you dislike what he’s doing, but rather that you don’t want to burden him.

To bring back the memories.

To make him feel like you’re just using him to relieve your tension.

Of course, he notices that, too.

“You’re nothing like her, bitch-chan.” He whispers in between lovebites. “So for tonight, give into me, okay? Nfu ~”

❀ Subaru Sakamaki.

“The tender brush of white rose petals scattered into the night, their familiar sweet scent fending off eternal shadows.”

When you’re upset or dark thoughts have you overthinking, the first thing that crosses Subaru’s mind is “is this my fault?”

For a moment, he starts fearing for the worst himself, did he upset you in any way? Did his tainted self hurt you? Would you be better off without him?

However, all of those ideas die out as soon as you cling to him, your face buried in his chest, his cheeks blooming in pretty rose.

Subaru hesitates for a moment, but then he holds you, even if a little awkward at first. 

Needless to say, he wants to punch anyone and anything that made you feel so anxious, but you need him now, in the same way he’s needed you on endless nights when all he knew was despair.

“I love you.” He whispers softly, crimson eyes closing as he nuzzles into your hair, leaving the softest of kisses there. “I’m here.”

❀ Ruki Mukami.

“The soothing truth of irrefutable words set in stone; the softness of blackened feathers; white crows guiding you home.”

Honestly, Ruki is one of the best people to assuage the intrusive thoughts plaguing your mind. Not because he is the most affectionate or soft, far from it, but because the logic he uses to make you see you’ll be okay is pretty much absolute.

Your own doubts scatter away, washed away by the night reflected in the deep ocean of his eyes. Somehow, he always has the power to make you feel like you’ll be safe as long as you stay by his side.

Of course, Ruki won’t leave you alone either. He’ll pull you into his lap while he reads a book, even read it out loud for you if you ask him.

“You’ll be safe with me, livestock. As long as you have your master to protect you, no harm will come your way.”

❀ Kou Mukami.

“A happy melody with lyrics that accompany your tears; not in tune, but a game of opposites, as if understanding you, setting your sights on blue skies after a downpour.”

Kou is another one who will notice right away if your mood shifts. Not just because of his eye; he doesn’t quite need to use it when it’s you.

Even if he now stands on the brightest stages, he knows pain like no other, and he doesn’t like that look on you.

You are his bluest sky. To see it covered by stormy clouds… It makes him sad. Though because he is a performer, he knows how to distract you from your endless night.

He brings you roses or any little gift he noticed you eyeing another time; similarly to Laito, he’ll resort to physical affection and naughty touches if you’re in the mood. 

But you always told him you love his voice, so now, he sings for his favorite audience: you and only you. He’ll teach you to dance like he does if you’re in the mood too, catching you securely in his arms when you trip, teasing you.

“My M-neko-chan is the cutest when they smile… You are my favorite sky, okay? Never forget it.” He tells you, as he kisses the corner of your lips.

❀ Yuma Mukami.

“The familiar scent of a fireplace in the home you’ve so longed for; he is the warmth of the sun on your back and the hues of rustling leaves in late summer.”

“Oi, sow, why do you look so depressed?” 

His rough voice is blazing sunshine amidst thick tree canopies. 

He’s noticed you staring at nothing and probably thinking about too much as you help him in the garden. 

He’s noticed the iron grip you have in the basket of tomatoes, the one now in your hand threatening to be crushed.

He’s noticed the trembling of your form.

He’s noticed you are not acting like yourself right now.

And Yuma can’t stand it. Like the unforgiving freeze of a clouded dawn making flowers wither, he won’t allow for the rose petals you put in his life to never bloom again.

So, as he always does, he lets his actions speak volumes. 

Taking the basket from your trembling hands, he gently throws you over his shoulder. Bathed in the last of the sun’s golden glow, he begins the short trek back to the manor.

“I won’t let anything happen to ya, ya hear me? So stop bein’ so sad, I’m here.”

❀ Azusa Mukami.

“He is the softness of clean gauze over your sore hands; a flutter of butterfly wings brushing your cheek as you wake from a sweet dream.”

Azusa is very attentive, so he can tell the little shifts in your mood when fear wraps their cruel claws around you.

At first, he’ll try to distract you, showing you his knife collection and telling you about the story of each one.

That helps a little, gentle smiles tugging at your lips every now and then as you see him excited to tell you about them.

But he knows that is not enough, that you’re still worried; your mind, a tapestry of criss-cross throbbing wounds.

So he’ll patch them up, no matter how long it takes for the turbulent flow of blood to stop.

He’ll hold you from behind, his ever tranquil heartbeat warm and soothing against your back.

“Eve… You deserve to be happy… My Eve is always beautiful… But I like you happy the most…”

: ̗̀➛ posted to my ao3 too: PrincessReila.

[oimitocat]

IF I TOUCH YA… | OS

༘۠ anton x m!reader

༘۠ nonidol! au + swimmer!anton + swimmer!reader + rivals with benefits + angst + nsfw + shower sex + technically public sex

༘۠ a/n: i’m still new to riize, please spare me. i’m sorry if this suck, i’m literally trying to get back into my writing mojo. [i’m trying because shotaro and sungchan redebuted ;( ] angst cus i LOVE angst ;)

“DAMNIT!” you growl, slamming your fist against the shower door.

anton, anton, anton.

that’s the only thing— the only name bouncing around your head. the (beautiful) idiot beat you by a—

“SECOND. A FUCKING SECOND!” you fume, the hot water running down your back doesn’t help, the steam giving you comedic energy with your emotions.

it’s a reoccurring situation, you beat him one day, he beats you another day. yet this whole week he’s been beating you by mere seconds.

“n/n…” his soft voice comes out from outside the shower stall.

“what.” you grunt, angrily scrubbing the shampoo in your hair.

you know he’s standing outside, fidgeting. what you don’t know is how fast his heart is racing, how anxious he is at the sound of you being so angry. he knows you’re competitive, he is too, yet he had always hoped it wouldn’t affect the friendship or companionship he was trying to have with you.

“the hell do you want, lee?”

he takes a deep breath, glancing back at the shower room door. almost everyone had left, except the coach which said he’ll go to his office and watch his anime.

“are you going to sulk like a sore loser or go home de-stressed?”

he jolts when your door flies open with a slam. you’re glaring at him but his eyes fly down, below your hips. he’s not hiding anything, why would he? he came inside the shower room with purpose, no towel on with purpose.

“so that wasn’t a one time thing?” you question, raising a brow.

he hesitates, looking around and playing innocent. “did you want it to?”

he gasps when you yank him by the wrist. he’s genuinely surprised at how fast you accepted the invitation, he thought you’d put up more of a fight but no, clearly you wanted your vengeance. he almost pushes you away, but your lips on his is just a beautiful feeling. this is the only time you actually give him something other than a glare or competitive comments. he’s all bark no bite, this is exactly how you two tangoed the first time, except that time you only took a blowjob from him.

left his throat sore and his tongue felt heavy during the entirety of the next day, the ghost of your dick in his mouth there.

he’s not a virgin, by no means, but he’s never done something this crazy. fucking in the shower room? what if someone forgot their shampoo or something and tries to come in? what if their coach decided to do his job and actually check up on you two for once?

you grip his hips, pushing him against the stall wall, the water still running. your lips are over his neck, nipping and kissing. he gets lost in that sensation, his hands coming up to mess with your wet hair.

your body is hot, the water burning your skin. he’s not a hot shower person, so apart from him already feeling sweaty in your hands, the steam isn’t helping with his libido. he tugs at your hair when you trail down his chest and stomach. his hips twitch forward as you go lower. he’s so hard it’s embarrassing.

“don’t look at me as if i’d help you with it.”

and you embarrass him. of course you do.

“you clean?” you ask as you come back up and eye his plush, wet lips.

his eyes are naturally doe, you almost find it cute. (who are you kidding, it absolutely is. you wanna to destroy him, corrupt him so bad).

“yeah,” his voice is always soft, yet you fell in love with how hoarse and raspy you can make it sound.

“fine, let me show you how much you piss me off,” you growl, placing your hands behind his thighs and swooping him up in one swift movement.

you grunt, forgetting how tall and built this boy is. he cling to you out of fear, his heart racing. this is new to him and doing it with you just brings out a rush he never new he’d experience. yet, despite the arousal and sexual hunger, he eyes you with a hint of perplexion. are you joking? you don’t actually get pissed off at him, right? but of what? him beating you lately or his existence in general?

he can’t ponder about it for more than a mere second before your fingers spread his cheeks apart. he hooks his ankles behind you, securing himself in your hold as you push in. you make a small, almost silent noise when your tip pushes the moist gland.

“h-hold on, grab me right,” he gasps as his arms wrap around your neck again.

“this isn’t easy, idiot,” you huff, “you’re not exactly small or light.”

he closes his eyes when some water drips from the top of his head. yet, when he feels you thrust he snaps them open and gasps.

“fuck, you’re so warm,” you grunt, pulling him down by the hips to slam into him.

it’s taking everything in you to hoist him up and move him. a hardcore arm workout, but one you know you’ll enjoy. you place a soft kiss, contrasting your brutal movements, onto his wet skin, making him moan— his neck is sensitive to kisses. especially with how wet and hot yours are.

from the rush in the moment, you build the pace and stamina to fuck him into the wall. his arms tighten around you, his airy moans echoing softly. he’s trying to be silent just in case, or at least you think. is he always this soft voiced? you grin— could you make him get loud?

you pull out entirely before slamming back inside. his breath hitches and his eyes snap open again.

“ah- oh fuck-!” he squeaks as you slam him down onto you.

his dick flops uselessly between the two of you. your fingers dig into the softness of his flesh in his ass, nails digging into him. you’ll leave marks, he knows it. yet, that’s what he’s hoping for, because where you’ll look at him nasty for doing the drills perfectly or getting praised for his renewed charts , he’ll know those marks happened when you looked at him with something other than hate.

you aim like you’re on a mission, which you are. the wet sound of skin against skin bounces around the shower walls. the running water isn’t loud enough anymore— you’re grunting as you chase your high and anton is letting out high pitched whines.

he presses his cheek against the side of your face. you feel so good, he can feel you splitting him open. he can feel the warmth of your dick inside his equally warm walls.

“y-y/n, you feel so good,” he pants out. “guess you’re good at something.”

fuck. that literally pissed you off. like, maybe not exactly in a way where his words irked you, but in the sense that it drove you to keep proving him right since he clearly wants to be right.

he grunts and moans when you get brutal. you’re growling and digging your nails into his skin.

“ah, ah,” his thighs twitch around your waist, a clear sign he’s getting close and sensitive.

you let out heavy breaths, a gruttal moan leaves your throat as you feel your climax building.

“imagine coach comes in here and sees his best swimmer getting fucked like a slut,” you cackle between your grunts. you feels his hole clench around you and you can’t help but feel amused at that. “you wanna get caught being a slut? what would the school think?” his breathing turns more erratic, “what would your daddy think?”

“fuck- y/n stop,” he tries but you just feel so good slamming into him that he just sounds stupid.

“the district stars fucking in the shower rooms, what a header,” you grin as you push your hips flush into his reddened ass cheeks, spilling deep into him.

he shudders, your warm seed sending him over the edge. he can’t even bask in the post-orgasm for a second because you pull out and set him back on his feet. you feel the pull in your shoulder blades, this is going to be embedded in your muscles for a while. yet you don’t find yourself showing any shred of care for him when you notice how wobbly his legs are.

“just watch, i’ll make sure you become a good fuck more than a good swimmer, lee.” you grunt, stepping out of the shower stall while glaring at him.

his heart aches, but he just throws you a lazy, lustful smile. because he knows that as long as he beats you, you’ll take out your anger on him.

and that would mean he’ll mean something to you. one way or another.