#meaning she was at least happy about receiving it
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lwh-writing · 22 hours ago
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If I may (forgive me, I don't know how CPS works, I had to make up names, and it's long):
As a correspondent for Casper County Child Protective Services, Julia is unfortunately used to taking plenty of calls, especially for the city of Amity Park.
Julia is also used to getting calls regarding the Fentons. At least half a dozen of her coworkers have their own personal accounts of the peculiar couple and their children, and Julia has twice had to stop by Fenton Works and assess the situation for herself. What she and her colleagues have found is a well-meaning, but feckless pair of scientists that continue to *just barely* scrape by every evaluation. If it wasn't for the fact that Jasmine and Daniel Fenton weren't so perfectly happy, healthy, and loved in their home, Julia knows that the Fenton family would've long-since been broken up.
None of this prepares her for receiving The Call.
Julia's shift ends in a little over an hour. The phone rings, and she pulls up both a new tab on her organizational software and a new page on her notepad. She hopes that this call is for something minor, and that it's the last she'll receive for the day, as she wanted to enjoy the rest of the weekend in peace.
Unfortunately, The Call is neither of those things.
"This is Casper County Child Protective Services. I am--" Before Julia can continue her usual spiel, the sound of a wailing child cuts clear across the line.
"It's Maddie Fenton," the voice on the other end says, just barely heard over the cries.
Julia sighs and begins to pull up the usual file. "What have the Fentons done this time?"
"I think you misunderstood," the voice continued, "This is Maddie Fenton. I'd like to file a--." More cries drown out Dr. Fenton's words, and soon the light sound of footsteps and a closing door can also be heard. The cries don't quite stop, but they are much more muffled.
"....are you reporting yourself and your husband?" Julia asks. It wouldn't be the first time a parent has called CPS and requested that their children be removed from their own custody. Sometimes, bad parents are just good enough to recognize when their child deserves better than them, and other times, good parents know that they are spiraling or hitting a rough patch hard enough that they cannot continue to give their children what they need. Julia has always respected those types of people the most.
"No, I...." Dr. Fenton said, "It's about my sister's son, Timothy Turner."
Julia searches for the name in the Casper County database, only to find nothing. "I'm sorry, that name doesn't appear to be in my files."
"It probably wouldn't be in Amity Park. My sister Luisa and her husband live in Dimmsdale."
Julia expanded her search to the city in question and found a Turner family living in Dimmsdale.
"Right, then. May I ask how old Timmy is?"
"He's six."
She then asked Dr. Fenton to describe the problem that led her to call CPS.
"My sister and I have not always had the closest relationship," Dr. Fenton explained, "Luisa can be a bit flighty and airheaded, making communication difficult. I'd often make a few calls, only for them to be ignored and responded to a month later. It didn't really bother me much until Luisa had a kid."
"Did you worry that your sister's tendencies would make her forgetful in regards to her child's care?"
"There were a few moments, but I didn't think they would stick," Dr. Fenton said after a moment of thought, "I thought there might be growing pains, but I guess I thought having a child might force Luisa to become more mature. But I was wrong. My sister and her husband are obviously not taking their duties as parents seriously, and I think there might be some major problems."
"Such as?" Julia egged on, grabbing a pen and preparing to jot down notes.
"From the beginning, Jack and I noticed a few odd remarks. Thomas, Luisa's husband, really wanted a daughter. When Luisa was pregnant, he would go on about all the father-daughter things they would do together. But when they had Timmy instead, it was as if Thomas and Luisa were never expecting. Thomas didn't once mention any of the activities or other things, and barely mentioned Timmy at all beyond lamenting the fact that he didn't have a 'precious babygirl'."
"That is very concerning," Julia agreed, "Is there anything else?"
"Yes. Whenever we would visit Luisa for weekends or holidays or such, we'd often find Timmy alone at the house. I took Luisa aside and told her that her son wasn't old enough to stay by himself and that he needed a babysitter. She got him one, thankfully, but when we came over next time, Timmy immediately burst into tears and told us how his babysitter would hurt him."
Julia stopped her writing. "Did you tell your sister?"
"Of course I did," Dr. Fenton said, tone irked, "But Luisa dismissed it out of hand. She and Thomas both claimed that Timmy was just lying for attention. But the way my nephew looked, I.... I just couldn't take any chances. So one weekend, about three months ago, Jack and I took the kids to Dimmsdale a couple hours early to see if we could catch the babysitter in the act. And what we found--"
A disgruntled, grunting noise came from the other end of the receiver.
"It was horrible. That vile witch of a teenager had Timmy tied up like a prized hog at a fair, and had dozens of weapons and torture instruments all laid out. We swung open the front door to see her laughing manically at Timmy's tears, nine-tails whip raised in hand. She tried to play it off, but we caught her red-handed and she knew it."
"Jack and the kids stayed with Timmy, but I took the girl aside and made it very clear that if she stepped within ten feet of my nephew again, I would tear her apart molecule by molecule. Then we waited for Luisa and Thomas to get home so we could explain the situation. They finally arrived just before midnight, the both of them tipsy from a date night out. Jack and I tried to explain the situation again, but they dismissed it. Again."
"Did you attempt to contact Dimmsdale police or CPS when you found the babysitter?" Julia asked, wondering what the fuck kind of trainwreck she was getting dragged into.
"Yes, we did," Dr. Fenton confirmed, "The police were useless. Apparently, the babysitter would sit for the officers, and they all claimed that she was an 'absolute godsend' that could 'straighten out even the most delinquent of children'. CPS wasn't much better, and when we went to try and talk with her parents, they seemed just as terrified of her as Timmy was. So Jack and I discussed our options and finally told my sister and her husband that we would babysit Timmy whenever it was needed, no charge required."
Julia made a note to report Dimmsdale CPS to Internal Affairs, all the while encouraging Dr. Fenton to continue. Not that much encouragement was needed. It seemed as if Dr. Fenton was finally releasing weeks' worth of frustration towards her sister, brother-in-law, and overall situation.
"The first time we babysat, we had to drive the two hours to Dimmsdale and get Timmy ourselves. Neither Luisa or Thomas made mention of what their plans were for pickup, or when they'd be done with whatever they were doing. They just absently told us goodbye and drove off. We packed up a few of Timmy's toys-- all of which were birthday and Christmas gifts from us, mind you --and then went back to Amity Park. It was a fun day, but once we were done with dinner, we started calling Luisa and Thomas to see where they were, and we still didn't receive an answer. We eventually decided to drive Timmy back. We came home to an empty house, and didn't leave until the Turners came in a little after two."
"The second time we babysat, Jack and I ran a bit of an experiment," Dr. Fenton confessed, "We picked Timmy up on a Friday after school, packed him a few changes of clothes, and then took him back to our place. We waited the entire weekend to see if either Luisa or Thomas would notice we had essentially kidnapped their son. They didn't call or text once. The only reason we took Timmy back to Dimmsdale was because he had school Monday morning."
"Jesus fucking Christ," Julia swore under her breath.
"And that brings us to now," Dr. Fenton said, "Jack and I picked up Timmy, but this time, we refused to leave Dimmsdale until Luisa and Thomas gave us straight answers as to where they were going, what they were doing, and when they would pick up their son. Apparently, Thomas has a Pencil Conference in Pennsylvania. They assured us that Timmy would be coming with them. Their flight leaves from the O'Hare airport at six. It is currently a quarter past four, I have been trying to call my sister for three hours and received no answer, and my nephew is crying his eyes out because he is a six-year-old child who misses his parents no matter how horrible they may be. And I just... don't know what to do."
Julia let out a shaky breath before creating a new case file and saying to the defeated-sounding woman, "You've done the right thing in calling today, Dr. Fenton."
"...thank you," she said, "I know this is the right thing for my nephew, but my sister..."
"Your sister is a grown woman who has made her choices," Julia dismissed before creating a new file, "Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but it sounds as if you and your husband wouldn't be opposed to housing Timmy as we get this situation dealt with."
"That is correct, yes. The kids love their cousin, and Jack and I just want Timmy to be happy and safe."
"Good. What I am going to do, Dr. Fenton, is contact a judge in Amity Park and tell them to grant you emergency custody of Timothy Turner. I am also going to contact the proper channels to start an investigation into the Dimmsdale CPS, the Dimmsdale police, and the babysitter who terrorized your nephew. What was her name?"
"Vicky," Dr. Fenton spat, "Vicky Carter."
"Thank you, Dr. Fenton," Julia said, writing the name down, "Now, we will try to get you emergency custody as soon as possible, but that usually takes a while. Two weeks, at the minimum."
"Thomas and Luisa said the Pencil Conference lasted a week, and that they were thinking of staying for a while to see the sights."
"Well," Julia said, wondering exactly how serendipitous the events turned out to be, "Well, then that just works in our favor. You will most likely receive another visit from Child Protective Services just to confirm that your household can support three children. After that, it would be best if your entire family could refrain from contacting Mr. and Mrs. Turner, as a legal battle to remove your nephew from their care will most likely follow. Are there any particular charges you'd like to level against the Turners?"
"Child neglect and child abandonment," Dr. Fenton answered immediately.
"Well, then we are of the same mind. Please expect a multitude of emails and phone calls in the near future."
"Of course. And thank you, for the help."
Julia said her goodbyes and rose from her desk. As she was making her way to the Internal Affairs office, a few voices called out from the breakroom.
"Uh-oh, somebody's got their business face on," Tyler teased, "Anything we should be worried about?"
"I got a call from the Fentons."
A few chuckles rose up from the room.
"What they'd do this time, cover the 'Spirit of Clean' mascot with neon green silly string?"
Julia frowned and shook her head. "Dr. Maddie Fenton called to report her sister for abandonment and neglect."
The room went quiet enough to hear a pin drop.
"Shit," Tyler murmured, "How fucked up does the case have to be for the Fentons to turn someone in?"
"You don't want to know," Julia said, turning on her heel and continuing down the hall, "You don't want to know."
✨Au ✨ Moms are sisters
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spiderb00 · 2 days ago
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Scoring points in my heart - Lara Raj
Lara Raj X Reader  Synopsis - In the most important game of the season, your girlfriend decides to surprise you.  Genre – Fluff  a/n - I think it's kind of short, but I think I got the essence of it. <3  (request)
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It was the most important game of the season, you were nervous, your anxiety speaking louder at times. Being calm in those moments was necessary, but as much as you played basketball practically your entire life, you still felt butterflies in your stomach every time the game was close to starting.  
One of the things that helped you calm down was the calls from your girlfriend, Lara, before each game. With Lara building her career and being very busy with her schedule, you and she hadn't talked about going public yet, you both knew you wanted to, but you never had the opportunity. Although Lara didn't come to your games, all the support she gave you from afar helped you and consequently your team to get to today, one of the most important games of the season.   
Today, to your surprise, you didn't receive anything, not a message, not a call, not even a selfie (which she insisted on sending you every day), nothing. Of course you were worried about your girlfriend, you even tried to call Sophia and Rhea a few times, but you got no answers, and since it was already close to the game starting, you thought it best to take a break. 
"No sign of your girlfriend?" One of your teammates asked, they knew you had a girlfriend, they just didn't know that your girlfriend was simply the "rising global popstar sensation, LARA RAJ!".   
"yes, still no answers, I guess I'll have to wait until after the game." You said crestfallen. 
You understood that Lara was busy, and that was the price for dating someone in the industry, but you certainly wouldn't trade that for anything, you faithfully believed that Lara had an explanation for all the disappearance. Then, when the game was about to start, you cleared your head and started to focus, leaving any problems and worries out of your mind.   
When you started running, it felt like there were tons on your shoulders and legs, it felt like you couldn't move properly. Forcing yourself to give your best, you started to be more aggressive, trying to make quick passes and not taking risks and passing the ball more than usual.   
  It ended up not working out, my coach called your attention, directing you to try to score points instead of just passing the ball. That made sense, in fact, you were one of the best players, if not, the best on the team. It seems that wasn't working for you today.   
 At least it wasn't, not until you see a Lara cheering you on in the stands, she looked beautiful, her outfit casual and yet she managed to be the most beautiful girl in the middle of everyone. Lara and the Kats were all screaming and cheering, in the stands you can also see Rhea, and now it makes sense because none of them answered your calls.   
You only came back to reality when Lara blew a kiss on you, a smile on the red-haired girl's face, you could read her lips from afar, a soft "I love you", it was all you needed to regain your confidence. In the end, the game was a success, his team scoring points and winning the championship.   
You were happy, very happy. You ran towards Lara as soon as the sound that indicated the match was over sounded. Hugging the shorter girl and spreading kisses all over her face.   
"Oh my god, Yn! You're all sweaty." She said, laughing and pulling away softly.   
"What happened to you? I called everyone and no one could answer, I started to get very worried, what happened to you? And since you're here, I mean, can you be here? Oh my god, everyone saw me kiss you, I'm sorry, baby, I just..."  
Lara interrupted you by gluing her lips to hers. Her arms wrapped around your neck as you held the shorter girl by the waist. At that moment, you didn't even care anymore if someone was looking, let them look, you have Lara Raj in your arms.   
You didn't care, too lost in all the sensations you felt when Lara was around you, everything was perfect, nothing could make you sad, discouraged or bad when Lara was around.   
"How about telling the world that you're mine, baby?" Lara said, caressing your slightly messy hair.   
"Are you serious?" You asked, incredulous at the possibility that they didn't have to hide from anyone else. 
"Super serious. So what do you think?" She asks, her head tilting a bit as she looks into your eyes.  
I'd love to tell everyone that we're together, baby."  You said, leaning over and giving the red-haired girl one more kiss.   
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sorry if this is too short, i kinda have some relatives over at my house right now, so it might take me a while to respond to some requests.
or I can just run away and write to you, it will depend on how the day unfolds...
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usomads · 1 day ago
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You're My Problem // Tama Tonga x Reader
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Author’s Note -> Hiiii, so idk how I feel about this honestly but I wanted to get my first Tama story out (we’re starving out here lol) and here’s what I came up with. Lmk if you have any recs for him, and as always, happy reading!!!
Plot -> You and Tama can’t stand each other. Locked in a room with him by force, will the two of you make up or will the hate continue?
Pairings -> Tama Tonga x Fem!Reader
Warnings -> Cursing, Choking, Degradation, Oral Receiving (M!Receiving, F!Receiving), Hair Pulling, Unprotected P in V, Creampie, MDNI
Word Count -> 2.4k
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It was impossible to point to a specific incident that led to you and Tama despising each other so deeply, it seemed as if from the moment you met it was clear the two of you would never get along. You were assigned as a producer for the Bloodline storyline, which unfortunately meant that you were working closely with him every single week. None of the other members had a problem with you. In fact, they loved you, but Tama never shared that sentiment. So here you were in the Bloodline’s locker room trying to pitch the promo they’d be doing later in the night but, of course, Tama was being difficult as usual.
“You’re insufferable, you know that? I can’t even get this fuckin’ promo out without you bitching at me every five seconds. God, it’s like you do this shit on purpose-”
“Maybe you just don’t know how to do your fuckin’ job, you ever think of that, Y/N? Oh, I’m sorry, you’re never the problem, right? Shit goes sideways at least once a week but hey, it couldn’t possibly be Little Miss Perfect right?” 
“Oh, so now you think you can tell me how to do my own job? I don’t see the other three struggling with it, so that would just narrow it down to you, right? You wanna talk about me not doing my job right, look in the mirror assho-”
“Both of you, please, shut the fuck up already. It’s every week with this shit, I’m fuckin’ tired of it. Can you just get along, for once?” Sefa groaned, clearly annoyed with the two of you constantly arguing.
“Well if she weren’t such a stuck up bitch then ma-”
“The fuck did you just call me?!” You stood from your seat at Tama’s words, instantly being provoked but was stopped by Sefa stepping in front of you, preventing you from getting in Tama’s face.
“Jesus fuckin’ christ, enough. Both of you need to calm the fuck down-”
“Fuck you mean, ‘calm down’? Did you not just hear what he said? Now get outta my way so I can-”
“No, none of that shit. We got more important business to tend to. Y/N, your promo idea is great, like always. And Tama,” he looked in the Tongan’s direction, “that was fuckin’ uncalled for. I don’t give a fuck how much you don’t like her, callin’ her a bitch is not cool, uce. But both of you,” he pointed between the two of you, “need to figure out whatever this issue is. I can’t have y’all bitchin’ at each other all the time, shit’s annoying as hell. So you know what, I’ve got an idea…” Sefa trailed off. “Me, Jacob, and Tonga are gonna go talk to creative about some shit real quick, and you two,” he and the other two walked towards the door, “are gonna talk this shit out. And I’m not lettin’ y’all outta here until ‘til you do.” You and Tama both tried to say something to stop them but went ignored as Jacob, Tonga, and Sefa went out the door and closed it behind them, locking it in the process. You let out a huff of annoyance, slouching in your seat.
“You realize this is your fault, right?” You spoke out loud, not looking at Tama. “If you weren’t such a fuckin’ dick then we wouldn’t be here right now. Once again, you gotta fuck something up...” 
Tama laughed obnoxiously, “My fault? Oh, don’t act all fuckin’ innocent here, Y/N. You know damn well you had just as much a part in this as I did. Don’t play all innocent now, Sefa ain’t here to defend you.”
You stood up abruptly, ignoring him as you walked to the door and tested the doorknob, finding it was indeed locked. “You’ve gotta be kidding… he fuckin’ locked us in here?!”
Tama stood up and walked over to the door, brushing by you to try the door himself. “There’s no way he did that shit, you’re just being fuckin’ dramatic,” he twisted the knob to also find it locked, you scoffing as he had to try it himself. You step to him, forcing him to look at you as you spoke.
“What the fuck is your issue, Tama? I don’t get it,” you asked, demanding an answer. “Like, what the fuck did I ever do to you? I tried being nice to you at first, I really did, but you’ve been such a fuckin’ prick ever since I met you that you’ve made that literally impossible.” Tama fumed as he pushed your back against the door, stepping dangerously close to you. Your mind felt dizzy as he stood over you, him peering down at you with his intense gaze. Your stomach had all of a sudden become a bundle of nerves as you watched his face, anxious of what he might say or do, but deep down there was a small part of you that enjoyed how intimidated you were by him. You hated how much you enjoyed this, trying desperately to put those thoughts to the side and forget about them completely, but he wouldn’t let you. His stare wouldn’t let you. The heat emanating from his body wouldn’t let you. And his next words certainly wouldn’t either.
“You wanna know what my problem is, Y/N? You. You’re my problem.”
“Well, no shit, I fuckin’ knew that dumba-” your words caught in your throat as he stepped impossibly closer and wrapped a hand around your neck, your bodies nearly touching. You gasped at the feeling and felt your eyes begin to roll to the back of your head, trying hard to maintain a level of self control under his touch.
“My problem is every time you talk back or insult me, I wanna shove my cock down your throat right then and there to shut you up.” He growled. “Been tryin’ so hard not to ruin you since the moment I met you, ‘s why I been actin’ like I can’t stand your ass. But the more bold you been gettin’ with me,” he leaned down to your ear, “the more I wanna fuck that attitude of yours right outta ya.” You bite your lip at his words, trying your best to suppress the moans that are daring to fall off your lips. Tama raises his head and meets your gaze once more, watching you try desperately to contain yourself underneath him. Your breath quickens as his eyes scan your features, looking for any sign of surrender to him. “Not so bold anymore, huh?” Your lip bite morphs into a smirk, finding your confidence at his teasing remark.
“You gonna sit here and continue to talk outta your ass, or you gonna man up and fuckin’ kiss me already?”
He chuckles lowly before smashing his lips to yours, the grip on your throat tightening and a moan swallowed by your lips coming from his mouth. You grab him by the shirt and pull him closer, craving his touch as your lips dance along his. He forces his tongue in your mouth, dominating it as his other hand grips your hip. Wetness begins to pool at your core, the overwhelming sexual desire between you two palpable as you both fight for dominance. The two of you switch positions; Tama’s back against the door as you separate. Your swollen lips paint a smirk as your hands travel to the hem of his shirt, tugging on the fabric and prompting him to remove it. The bulge in his pants is prominent, silently aching for you as your fingers dance along his waistline. Tama watches your actions- watches you toy with him.
“Y/N, if you don’t…”
“Don’t what? You were the one who called me a bitch earlier, might as well play the part…” you begin to back away from him but his hand grabs your wrist tightly and pulls you to him.
“I don’t think so,” his eyes darken as he speaks to you in a commanding tone. “Get on your knees.”
“Make me.”
Tama grabs your shoulders, shoving you down and undoing his pants to free himself. His cock hits his stomach as he pulls his boxers down, veins prominently detailing the thick shaft as precum leaks from the swollen tip. You look up at him through your lashes, Tama taking a mental picture of the sight of your doe eyes making eye contact with his. To him, the sight of you peering up at him with bruised lips, mere inches away from having your mouth on him was the sexiest thing he’s ever witnessed. You give him a wink and wrap your hand around him, spitting on his dick and slowly stroking it. He groans when you touch him, weaving his fingers into your hair. Your tongue slowly trails from base to tip, tracing the outlines of his veins and giving kitten licks to the swollen head, making him shiver.
“Mmm, fuck Y/N, quit teasin’,” he moaned, gripping your hair harder. You didn’t listen, continuing your actions until he tugs your head back to look at him, a gasp slipping from your mouth and allowing him to slide his tip inside. “You wanna play, huh? Fine by me, baby, let’s play.” He pushes your head slowly down his length, forcing you to relax your jaw and throat to open yourself up to him. You feel his cock hit the back of your throat and gag, eliciting a groan from him as your throat tightens around him. “Mmm, you think you’re so big and bad, ain’t so big now with this dick down your throat, huh?” You moan around his cock, your eyes watering as he thrusts himself in your mouth. He fucks your throat violently, his hips bucking at an unrelenting pace as tears stream your face and you choke on him. He pulls out, allowing you to catch your breath but continues to stroke himself as he looks down at you. “Look at you, you’re a mess. Such a fuckin’ slut f’me, chokin’ on my cock.” You whine at his words, you had never been one for name calling but the way it glided off his tongue made you weak in the knees. “Oh, you like that, huh? C’mere, you wanna be my slut so bad imma fuck you like one.” He lifts you back to your feet, kneeling down and taking off your bottoms, leaving you in your panties. He moves them to the side, collecting your wetness with his fingers. “Damn, baby girl, I did all this? You’re a fuckin’ mess for me,” he smirked.
“Tama, I swear to God…”
“Nah, you wanted to play earlier, remember? Now it’s my turn.”
“Tama…”
“Whatchu want, hmm? Imma need a little more convincing than that, sweetheart.” You whined and laid your head against the door, eyes gluing shut as his fingers teased close to your aching core but would never quite touch it. 
“Please…” you mumbled softly.
“Sorry, I didn’t catch that. What were you sayin’?” He smirked, loving how desperate you were for him.
“Fuck, Tama, please. Please, just fuckin’ touch me alre- oh fuckkk.” His tongue making contact with your dripping folds cut you short, your eyes rolling back as his tongue ravaged your pussy. He moaned as he lapped at you, the vibration sending chills throughout your body. He lifts his head and blows cool air on your clit before wrapping his lips around the swollen bud, making you cry out his name and tangle your hands in his hair. He continued to assault your pussy with his tongue, and it wasn’t long before your legs were shaking underneath him.
“S-shit, Tama I-” He stops his movements, slowly rising back to his feet and giving you a sinister look. 
“Oh, you thought I was gonna let you cum so easily?” He turns you around, pressing your front against the cool surface of the door. “Nah, baby, you cum when I let you.” His tip pokes at your entrance before pushing its way in, the thickness of his cock filling you instantly. He places a hand on the side of your head, pushing it into the door as he pounds into you mercilessly. You moan his name loud, unable to control yourself as Tama fully dominates you.
“Fuckk, such a pretty lil’ slut f’me. Takin’ me so well.. you love this dick don’t you, baby girl? Tell Daddy how much you love his cock.” He continues to fuck you hard, your skin slapping echoing the room. “I- I, oh fuck, s-so good. I-”
“That’s it, mama, let the whole fuckin’ arena know who’s fuckin’ you this good.” He grabs your hair and pulls, arching your back and he slams his hips into you. You cry out his name, the new angle hitting your spot in all the right ways. You know you’re close- your pussy tightens around him and he groans. “Lost that attitude, didn’t you? All it took was to fill you full of good dick and you shut right up… fuck, baby, so fuckin’ tight f’me. Squeezing the fuck outta my dick. Keep that shit up and imma fill this pussy up.” 
“P-please..”
“Oh, you dirty fuckin’ slut, you want that, don’t you?” You whimper in response. “Imma give that shit to you baby, gotta cum for me first. C’mon, ma, nut all over this dick.” His hips drive into you deeper than before, daring you to come undone, and you do. You cum hard, your vision turning white and your limbs shaking violently as you release all over him. Your pussy tightens one last time and Tama curses your name, snapping his hips into you and releasing deep inside your pussy.  He stills inside you, allowing his cum to completely fill you as the two of you attempt to catch your breath. He plants kisses on the side of your neck, allowing you to ride out your orgasm. After a moment he pulls out of you, reaching down to your panties and moving them back in place, trapping his cum inside. You two rest for a moment, skin to skin as he holds you in his arms, the both of you stuck in a blissful trance until a loud knocking raps from the other side of the door. 
“Aye, y’all make up yet? Got a segment to get ready for, we’re coming in.” 
Shit.
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youareatragedy · 2 days ago
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As much as people criticize the Archeron sisters (which a lot of the time I can agree with especially when it comes to Feyre), I think we have to remember that these are early-to-mid-twenties women. They’re traumatized and might be more easily influenced by 500-year-old powerful fae.
So while I want Feyre to serve at least a century in maximum-security prison for what she did to the Spring Court alone, I also want Rhysand to receive at least 15 death sentences. Every time he almost dies, they could bring him back just to inject him with lethal poison again. And I want the Illyrian and CoN women to handle at least the first 10 executions. You know what I’m saying?
Yes, I would breathe a sigh of happiness and relief if I never had to hear about Feyre again. But my hatred toward Rhys… toward Cassian… and toward how SJM and the fandom keep portraying them (especially Rhys and Cassian) as “babygirl” or hot dudes who are oh-so-considerate about the well-being of women everywhere? Unmatched.
Rhysand should be in prison for 1000 years for whatever he did as Amarantha’s right hand. And yes, that’s already a reduced sentence because apparently “he was just trying to protect his family and he had no choice” is a valid reason to be exonerated. I mean, fuck justice for the people who suffered under Rhys's own hand, am I right? “He was just doing his job.”
Meanwhile, Cassian deserves a century in a mental institution for thinking it was okay to avenge his mother by slaughtering an entire village. There must have been at least a handful of people who didn’t even know who his mother was or were helpless and couldn’t have done anything to save her anyway. Nepotism, am I right? No real consequences for him, of course. Oh, and what kind of psychopathic asshole tells his mate he feels shackled to her, knowing her self-esteem is nonexistent? Disturbing fucker.
Lord of Bloodshed my ass. Lord of the Night Court? No, it's Lord of Velaris of "I Love Parading My Very Very Young Wife Around Almost Naked And Spreading Her Arousal Scent Everywhere."
Fuck the IC, and especially fuck those two. Stay away from the sisters.
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randomnameless · 1 year ago
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The phrase “we have been aware of the high levels of competency from KT's writers, especially with their work for 3H” is worrying; i'm not going to shit-talk them just for thinking that 3H has a good story, especially when someone's standards for what makes a story good or not is subjective and could be different from ours, but KT's story-telling skills are never going to improve if people keep only telling them that Three Houses' deeply-flawed story was actually a narrative masterpiece, instead of a self-contradicting mess with plot points it introduces solely as gotchas and has no intention of ever following up on in any meaningful way, characters getting assassinated left and right to try and argue that female Ashnard might actually be right and not so different from them in terms of morality and goals (while they're in the middle of fighting for their lives and watching their friends die in battle because she decided to invade their home unprovoked and solely for a landgrab), and an over-powered villain group that should have ended the story long before it even started because the writers decided to give them a stockpile of magic nukes they can launch at anywhere in the world, which was also introduced solely for shock value and without them realizing how much of the story is ruined by making it so that the villains who want to kill everyone and take over the world can just nuke anyone they want (that isn't inside Garreg Mach when they launch it) with no consequences.
I just don't like what it means for the future of FE stories if the worst story in the series keeps getting praised as one of the best, even by separate developers, is all.
Wait and see anon!
For what it's worth, while Engage's sales are apparently not as stellar as Houses in the same timeframe (like House after month 1 and Engage after month 1?), Nopes totally crashed.
Amazon isn't the only market in the world, but in some places in the world (tfw not for amazon.fr) Nopes is now sold at around 15 bucks, which is ridiculous considering older games released on consoles still being in circulation are more expensive than this thing that is barely 1 year old(even the first FEW?).
Also, Engage was supposed to have been released earlier but Covid and Houses being released later than planned meant it was delayed, but Engage was supposed to be Fodlan's antithesis, at least writing wise - you'd think IS would have tried to retrofit more Fodlan themes (maybe more uwu maybe some villains aren't BaD and earl grey because they luf u) but they didn't.
Imo, fwiw, while KT apparently loved how Fodlan was received, IS is aghast and doesn't want to touch it within a 10 meters radius, only if it means selling units in FEH and even there, they sometimes retcon Fodlan units (hello F!Billy/Sothis) or challenge them in various FB (Brave!Supreme Leader, but also in the most recent one, Sylvain harping on his Crust being BaD...) clearly showing how they don't really want to follow KT's direction regarding those units - at times, it's almost as if the CoS receives more development in Heroes than in both Fodlan games!
So I'd like to see what IS has in store for the next FE games (or the next non remake FE game), even if in my opinion, given how Heroes has to retcon/finish the writing (Mercedes reveals more about her Adrestian family in FEH than in two of her games!) for characters just to sell them in the gacha game ffs, speaks volumes on what they think of Fodlan's writing.
On top of that, FE16 was the first game where people received surveys/mails from Nintendo/IS asking them if they understood the game... - so despite Fodlan selling well (better than expected?), imo it's clear the writing isn't to praise, at least for IS, and they don't want anything to do with it (Nopes' DLC was scrapped, when shiny!Rhea's sprite was datamined, so either they made an useless sprite, either this sprite might have been used in a future DLC?)
They can still butcher a future remake (plz no jugdral) by adding pointless supports between units and trying to uwu more than needed the red emperor - or add an OC waifu du jour who will sell merchs and try to uwu her if she is on the side of the red emperor - but I feel like we will see where they will go with a brand new game (since Heroes's writing is... as consistent as a fog and basically circles around "women sad'n'lonely*, men evyl", female playable OC simps after the avatar and is useless in the resolution of the plot because Alfonse will finally find a mc guffin way to defeat the villain of the year).
*i truly hope Vero isn't any indication to what the writing of the future games will be, like heavy retcons from her first apparition to "i was brainwashed and akshually everyone supports me from my home even if i send them to death against askr because the voice in my head told me to do it" because that'd suck, but vero is a young woman, thus she could be monetised for alts, figurines and even DLC content in a main game!
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putredolarva · 2 years ago
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@blostmian said ; ❝ Hey, what exactly are you doing here?❞ / from : 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬
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❝ What I'm doing here? I don't know, maybe I was simply trying to find a loud place to lay down. So far, it seems I've found it. ❞ He grimaces with sarcasm from his spot as he lifts the book he was reading. Waving it lightly from side to side as a matter to further emphasize his words before returning its back once again on top of the mattress where he was laying. Great. He should've known better than to positively keep retelling himself the same tale that even by turning a big side eye to this whole matter, that presence would still somehow manage to make its way into his path- this was the clear example that he couldn't even pretend to be positive about certain things.
❝ Oh but don't get me wrong, I'm happy you decided to oh-so-accidentally barge into my room and pay me a visit; however, I'm having― ❞ and as he speaks, a centipede that casually had decided to gather around him decides to crawl over the yellowed pages of his book, prompting Oberon to lightly pinch it in between his claws and lift it right in front of his field of vision, finding thus the perfect excuse to shoo the caster away from where he was staying. ❝ ―another visitor already. What a shame, just when we could finally get on the same page.. ❞
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joelsgoldrush · 1 month ago
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“crawl home to her” | 7.5k
old man!logan x f!reader
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SUMMARY: Will he be able to control himself once he's near you? In this moment, he feels more animal than human. Creeping, on the verge of crawling, back to you. OR Like a sinner seeking absolution, he finds his way back to you after every absence, as if you're the only salvation he's ever known.
WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni smut 18+ cursing. drinking. dirty talk. some fluff. comfort. feelings. self-deprecation. miscommunication. sort of established relationship. age gap (reader's in her late 20s). petnames. religious imagery. logan's POV. chauffeur!logan. dom!logan. reader wears logan's dog tags and clothes. pussy pronouns. phone sex. oral sex (f and m receiving). 69. fingering. masturbation (he jerks off in the limo). one (1) single spank. sort of rough sex. unprotected p in v. creampie.
A/N: i wrote this as a part 2 of this story, but still, it can be read as a standalone (i'd recommend that you also read the first part as well 👀 you'll understand their relationship better). hope you like this one! <3
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Logan is tired. Bone-deep, soul-crushingly tired.
He takes a slow, deliberate drag from his cigar, letting the smoke curl inside his chest, teasing his lungs. Doesn’t even bother to crack the window open—why would he?—before exhaling, the haze lingering inside the limo like a fog.
One quick glance at his phone screen just to make sure his vision isn’t screwing him over—no older notifications. A pang of disillusionment settles in his being.
Not only is he fighting to keep his eyes open, exhausted from driving the same family around for the past few days while they enjoy their quality time, but he’s also bored out of his mind. 
Where the hell are you?
He adjusts his glasses, pushing them higher up on the bridge of his nose, preventing them from sliding down to his lap. When his phone buzzes, he jolts, nearly hitting his head on the roof of the limo due to his excitement.
His poor heart gallops as he fumbles with the screen, unlocking it with the same urgency as a man starved for contact.
But it’s not you. It’s one of his passengers.
We’re getting out in half an hour, the message reads. By we, she means herself, her husband, and their two kids.
Logan can’t bring himself to type an actual reply, so he leaves her on read. She knows he’s not going anywhere, parked outside the arcade as if he’s rooted in place with no way out.
Family after family enters that hell on earth, kids of all ages bouncing on their heels, voices shrill with enthusiasm. He watches, half-heartedly, as parents get dragged by their little ones, who negotiate how much money they are allowed to spend tonight.
He almost feels bad for those parents. Almost. He hopes that at least they know how to say ‘No’.
All in all, he’s got another thirty minutes of solitude ahead. The radio has long since ceased to entertain him. He’s been parked here for two hours, and his mind is starting to drift. He could stretch his legs, walk around, or maybe grab a drink—but damn it.
He wants to talk to you.
You’d said he could call you after dropping the family off. That was three hours ago. The last message he received from you was still stuck in his head, replaying over and over like a lifeline. Logan knows you must be busy, probably taking care of Charles and—
Okay, he’ll get back to that later. 
You: Just got out of the shower. Call me in five?
Right now, he could die a happy man. Were he a dog, his tail would be wagging furiously, anticipation already building for the simple joy of hearing you.
Logan: Got it.
The next five minutes feel like an eternity. He finishes his cigar, flicking the stub beneath the seat without giving it a second thought. For now, he doesn’t care about being a messy fucker. He’ll deal with the mess some other time.
Priorities.
A quick spritz of some cheap air freshener he picked up from a gas station fills the car, masking the distinctive scent of smoke. God forbid the kids start whining about how ‘weird’ it smells in the limo.
With a grimace, he sprays a little more—floral, of all scents? It feels insulting.
How kind of him to still be this considerate.
His thumb hovers over your contact, and he presses the call button with an agility he hasn’t had in years (thanks to you).
One, two, three rings, and then—
“Logan,” you say softly, your voice a little breathless, like you’ve been hurrying all over the place.
He stops grinding his jaw, the tension in his shoulders easing. He unclenches his fists, fingers uncurling one by one, as if letting go of some invisible burden.
Outside the vehicle, people stop dying, babies stop being born, and the world itself pauses just for him to listen to you.
You can’t see him, but he smiles either way. “Hey, baby.”
“Gosh, I’m so sorry. I lost track of time talking to Charles. We had dinner, and then I just—I felt so gross, you know? From cooking and all that. Took a shower, and it got pretty late.”
You end with a sigh, and he imagines you rubbing a hand over your face. “Please tell me you weren’t sleeping when I texted you.”
“Not even close. Still waiting for them.”
“They’re really taking their time, huh?”
“You wouldn’t believe it,” he murmurs, his fingers drumming a soft rhythm on the steering wheel. “How was your day?”
“Great! I’m already in bed.”
“My bed.”
You laugh, that sweet sound making his heart stutter. “Well, yeah. Where else do you want me to sleep if I’m at your place? On the floor?”
If someone had told Logan a year ago that he’d let someone live in his space, let alone take care of Charles, he’d have scoffed. "Pathetic," he’d have said, rolling his eyes with that familiar growl in his throat. Pretty sure he’d also puffed his chest while saying so.
Because Logan Howlett wasn’t one for accepting help. He’s been on his own since the earth was still cooling down.
But for you? He made exceptions. Plenty of them. And if it weren’t for your altruism, he wouldn’t have accepted this job—a job that pays well enough to cover Charles’ meds and put food on the table. He needs this rich family’s money.
“You’ve got a girlfriend now?” Charles had asked, when Logan explained he’d be staying with you while he went away for a few days.
“Big word you’re using there,” Logan had replied, placing two pills into Charles’ palm. The old man gave him a death stare. “Don’t play dumb. It’s not like you don’t know the drill.”
Mumbling something incoherent before swallowing the pills, Charles had taken slow sips of water between each one, sinking back into the mattress with a weary sigh. “If she’s not your girlfriend, then what is she?”
“A friend.”
“That’s nice. Is that what they’re calling it now?”
He shakes that memory away, forcing his mind back to the call. “Try not to be so kind to him. What if he falls in love with you?” he inquires, a mocking tone weaving through his words. 
And that’s when you drop the bombshell. “You mean like you did?” 
You laugh, but Logan… doesn’t. He can’t do it. He makes sure he’s breathing on command: in and out, in and out, in and out. 
The mention of love unsettles him. He doesn’t feel safe anymore, doesn’t know what game you’re playing. Where’s the rulebook?
Is he—could he be—falling in love with you? Is that what you’re implying? And if so, do you feel the same?
In the long run, you mumble: “It was a joke.” Only then do his lungs fill with fresh air, untainted by the weight of his unease. But he can’t let it pass, the fact you sound disappointed. Defeated.
He promised himself he’d never hurt you. Though he doesn’t intend to, it feels as if he’s just stabbed you in the back, twisting the knife further into your frame—unwillingly.
“Remember the—” he pauses a moment, throwing his head back in frustration, silently cursing himself. “The pills. You’ve been giving them to him, right?”
“Yes, Logan.”
“Please, remember it’s only—”
“Logan,” you try again, cutting through the wave of his spiraling thoughts. He can picture you behind closed lids, looking at him through your lashes, your hand resting gently on his chest. “I have it under control, okay? He’s doing alright. I swear I’m taking good care of him.”
“I don’t doubt that, honey.” Casting a glance at the rearview mirror, he feels an unexpected sense of longing for your presence there, like a ghost haunting his every move, confined to the limits of his brain. “Can’t help but worry. That’s all.”
A soft hum reverberates through the line. He hears the rustle of sheets, the sound of you tossing around in his bed, and his pulse quickens at the thought.
“You said you’re sleepin’ on my bed.”
“Good memory you have.”
“You wearin’ my clothes as well?”
 Thick silence, the kind he relishes.
“Yeah,” you finally reply, shifting the phone from side to side. You take a deep breath, and add: “I forgot to bring mine.”
He hates how you easily find a way to get him riled up despite being miles away. It must be the power of words.
“I don’t believe you.” He knows he shouldn’t, hates himself for doing it, but one of his hands palms the half-hard bulge in his black slacks, suppressing a low groan. “Think you did it on purpose.”
A rush of heat, sharp and urgent, washes over him. Is he really about to do this? Get himself off in the very car he uses for work? Twisted, incredibly sick of him, he thinks.
Still, he craves more. “Tell me what you’re wearing.”
You laugh at his demanding tone, fanning the flames of his desperation. “When did you turn into a horny teenager?”
“Always been, baby,” Logan purrs, undoing the button of his pants, followed by the fly. His eyes flick upwards for just a moment—no cars, no one in sight. He’s presumably alone. It’s all the confirmation he needs to say: “C’mon. Tell your old man what clothes you stole from him.”
He’s never done this before—phone sex. He’s heard about it, sure, but never imagined he’d fall so hard for the idea. The thrill of it sinks into him, electrifying.
What are you doing? Is your lip caught between your teeth? Do your eyes wander down your own body? Maybe your fingers are already skimming over your skin.
“It’s just a random shirt,” you murmur. “Plain, white.”
“What else?”
“There’s nothing else.”
Logan’s breath hitches as his hand moves to his cock, spotting the damp patch on his briefs where the tip has already started to leak. The moment he slides the elastic down past his balls, he fists his shaft in a slow stroke, going from the base to the head. “No panties? And you expect me t’believe this wasn’t planned?”
Your muffled whimper is like molten lava spilling into his ear, bringing him to full hardness. More shuffling follows on your end, driving him wild with the anticipation. “Why do you do this to me if you’re not here?”
“‘Cause I want you touchin’ yourself just like I’m doin’.” He thumbs the head, hips jerking involuntarily at the sensation. He aches to feel your mouth there instead. “Bet that pussy’s been cryin’ out for me, huh? Must’ve got used to me fillin’ her every other night.”
Your breathing grows more uneven, small gasps filtering through the speaker. “I need you here with me. This is—ugh—not enough.”
“What’s not enough, sweetheart?”
There’s a pause as the sound of your phone shifts again, and then he hears it clearly—the wet, needy sound of your fingers working between your legs, filling the silence with the loud squelching of your cunt. “My fingers,” you blurt out, more distant than before, like you’re merging with the bed, dissolving with every touch.
Logan spits roughly into his palm, the slickness of his saliva easing the drag of his calloused hand along his length, good enough to make the movement more satisfying.
He moans aloud, eyes shut tight, your name slipping from his lips, a whispered prayer, as if saying it could somehow summon you to his side. “I spoil you too much,” he rasps, wedging his phone between his ear and shoulder, using every resource available to him, anything to feel something real. “Seems like you’ve forgotten how to make yourself come.”
Your moans follow his, the breathy sounds a clear sign of how close you are, hanging on the edge, your release just a heartbeat away. But it’s not enough, and you need him. He wonders if you can feel his thoughts from miles away, because— “Want your cock so bad, Lo. I m-miss you.”
He has to stop jerking himself to hold off his orgasm, stomping his foot against the pedals. “Fuck, darlin’. You keep sayin’ those things and I swear I’ll be back with you by morning.”
His sole focus now is you—getting you to come. Driven by his growing frenzy, it’s the only coherent thought that claws through the haze in his mind. “Keep talking, please,” you plead, fingers still lost in the heat of your body. “Tell me what you’ll do to me when you see me.”
Logan picks up the rhythm again, his movements faltering as his chest heaves, ragged breaths spilling out while his hand works faster. “Gonna fuck you slow and deep, just how you like it. Face to face, so you can kiss me as much as you want, ‘cause I know my girl loves that, am I right?”
My girl. He’ll regret that one the second the high fades and clarity sets in.
Word after word falls from his lips without thought, uncontrollable, as though he’s surrendered to the storm of desire raging in his being—a storm in which your name is the eye of it all.
You are everywhere, and you take up all the empty spaces he thought were impossible to fill, sinking into the depths of his unconsciousness.
Not a single part of him is left untouched by you, by the power of your presence in his life, consuming him in ways he never imagined.
Your airy mewls ripple through the line, feeding his ravenousness, adding to the tightening knot of pleasure coiling low in his abdomen. His muscles strain, thighs tensing. Each stroke of his hand prolongs this sweet torture. 
“Come for me, princess. You’d make me so h-happy if you came right now.”
And you do, because it’s not just his touch anymore—it’s his voice, and the way he commands you without force. How you’ve become accustomed to him, nodding along to each instruction he mutters.
Beneath your fingers, your swollen clit pulses, and though he can’t see it, he imagines it perfectly, having spent enough time worshiping it.
He knows, even from a distance, what your body must be doing. Your back arching off the bed, thighs quivering and clenching tight around your own hand. Those perfect legs of yours trembling as you reach your so-desired climax.
Loud and unrestrained, you moan, and for a moment, he wants to be with you so badly that he ponders if the theory of traveling across time and space sounds that far-fetched after all.
Logan doesn't need much after that for the thread to snap at long last, his groans dying on his lips as he stares in awe at the spurts of his seed landing wherever his eyes fall: a bit on the top of his pants, on his hand, his briefs. His cock twitches in his grip as he continues stroking himself through the aftershocks, gulping when it becomes too much to handle.
So phone sex is off the list now. Great.
“Miss you, too,” he mumbles once he’s caught his breath, tossing his glasses onto the passenger seat. His forehead feels damp to the touch, and he contemplates when was the last time he came this hard.
The elephant in the room hasn’t been addressed yet. He knows you expect him to say more, something deeper and rawer, but that’s all he can force himself to spit out.
Sometimes, he forgets that you can’t read him all the time. Although you know him better than anyone else, there are certain thoughts and memories locked tightly inside him, things you'd never discover on your own. Secrets he admits he should share with you, but he’s at a loss for how. Words aren’t doable when he needs them the most.
Maybe it's a matter of age—you’re a natural at voicing your feelings.
At some point, you ask: “When did you say you were returning?”
One thing’s clear: he can’t afford to lose you. He’d be an idiot if he let that happen.
“In five days, I think.” Were he with you, he'd hold you in his arms, kissing your lips. God, how he misses kissing you. All of you. “I’ll keep you updated.”
“It’s okay,” you respond, and in his mind, a blank canvas fills with the familiar image of you lying on your side, curling into a ball the way you always do. “I should go to sleep. Talk to you tomorrow.”
“Sure.” Thank you for everything. “Get some rest.” Are you still in love with me? “Bye.” I’m coming back. You know how I feel about you, do you?
So much left unsaid, words he lacks the strength to speak. That, along with his come-stained clothes. And, of course, the limousine now perfumed like a flower shop.
Exhaustion clings to him again.
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His luck has never been this good.
The next afternoon, one of the couple’s kids falls ill. Must be something he ate, the woman tells Logan, her voice light, though he can hear the shuffle of urgency behind her words.
Her husband packs their bags in the background, the muted thuds of luggage hitting the floor. You know how children are. Their hands are always filthy!
What she doesn’t realize is that Logan, in fact, doesn’t know how children are, because how could he?
He’s holed up in the hotel across the street, his only responsibility being to wait on their call, ready to drive whenever they needed him. Needless to say, his accommodations are nothing like theirs. Not that he minds it—he’s not one for luxury, has never needed it.
Truth be told, he’s no stranger to beds that groan if you shift slightly, clogged toilets that spit back water like they’re alive.
Joy rushes through him when he hears the news. He’s coming back earlier than expected, a thrill building in his chest. Twelve days he’s been away, his greed growing with each second in that desolate hotel room.
Now, the beating of his heart quickens, a faint thrumming as he stares out the window. He debates whether to let you know about his early return or keep it as a surprise. Would it be better if he just showed up?
How would you feel, knowing that, by the time the lights are out, he’ll be yours again?
He knows he should feel sorry for the poor kid, but all he can muster is a look of concern that barely reaches his eyes. Each time they pull into a gas station, he listens to the hurried slap of footsteps as the boy rushes for the bathroom to empty his insides.
He watches in the rearview as the kid’s father shakes his head, clicking his tongue with disapproval. “Do you have kids?” he asks, his voice forced into a casual tone, like he’s trying to break the silence that’s settled between them. 
Logan’s only response is to turn up the radio, some pop song he’s never heard spilling from the speakers. The lyrics are a blur of nonsense to him, but it’s enough to drown out the man’s words and the boy’s misery.
Some things never change.
As the sun dips below the horizon, he’s finally free, no longer at anyone’s beck and call. He contemplates the possibility of getting a speeding ticket, weighing his options. It hardly matters. The pull to see you, to feel you, is stronger than anything else.
Even though he tries to think of another time in his life when he felt such a raw need, no memory comes close.
When he does pull up to his place, he does it quietly. Parking the limo, he doesn’t honk, doesn’t announce himself. Fumbling with the keys ever so lightly so as not to wake you up, fitting them into the lock.
His wrist twists, and the door gives way with a soft creak.
Anxiety ripples through him as he steps inside. The smell of freshly cooked food hits him, but it only tightens the knot in his stomach, reminding him of how long it’s been since he last ate.
Later, he tells himself. After. Once he’s sated his true hunger—the kind of hunger that can only be satisfied by sinking his fingers into something real, fleshy, malleable. 
Hunger—yes, it’s animalistic, feral even. Will he be able to control himself once he’s near you? In moments like this, he feels more animal than human. Creeping, on the verge of crawling, back to you.
His feet take him to his bedroom, knowing the path to it very well. Fingers hovering over the knob, he takes a deep breath.
It’s already late, past midnight, yet energy courses through his veins as though he’s just woken from a long, ethereal dream.
He finds you asleep, your body wrapped snugly in the sheets, clutching a pillow close to your chest. Your cheek is pressed into it, breathing soft and steady, lulling him in. Kneeling on the edge of the bed, he kicks off his shoes, then slips in beside you, mirroring your position. 
A lamp sits on his nightstand, one that isn’t his, and he figures you must have brought it from your apartment. There has to be a symbolism for that.
It’s incredible how his entire world can fit into such a narrow bed.
The smart thing would be to let you sleep, to simply watch you for a moment longer. But he can’t help himself.
His thumb lingers near your face before gently cupping your cheek, and the very first contact with your skin sends a shudder through him, the warmth of your skin grounding him. He trails his fingers down to your chin, holding it with just enough pressure to remind himself that he’s here.
Leaning in, he presses his lips softly against your forehead, your typical perfume wrapping around him like a welcome.
Welcome home, Logan.
For the first time, he feels that someone’s been counting down the minutes until his return. He’d always believed a person like him didn’t deserve this. That he just wasn’t built for it.
Countless years had he spent convincing himself he’d never be the kind of man who could inspire love. His life had already been written long ago—predetermined by some cruel hand in the sky.
Destiny, fate, call it what you want—once the cards are laid out, there’s no escaping them. Or so he used to think.
You had taken that pen into your own hands, rewriting his future. You, of all people, had changed his life. No matter what the future held for the two of you, he’d always be grateful. Grateful that you’d seen the dim spark in him that others had chosen to ignore.
Thoughtlessly, his fingers continue their gentle strokes along your cheek, your hair. You stir beside him, shifting in your sleep. Your eyes flutter open, close again, and then open once more, blinking in confusion.
“Logan?” you croak, voice still groggy and thick with sleep, coming to your senses. Before he can respond, you throw yourself on top of him, smothering his face with kisses. “Why—how—”
“Sweetheart,” he says, attempting to hide his grin, but failing when your kisses shift to his neck, your nose nuzzling against his skin. A laugh slips out, warmth flooding his chest.
“You didn’t tell me you were coming home early!”
Home. Had he heard right? Had you used that word knowingly?
Peering into your eyes, he catches his reflection in your pupils, tiredness etched into his features. “Wanted it to be a surprise.”
“You could’ve told me,” you reply, fingers threading through his greying locks, massaging his scalp. You place a tender kiss on the tip of his nose. “I would’ve waited up for you at least.”
“Well, I’m here now,” he whispers back, gaze drifting to your lips, and you close the space between you, his sigh mingling with yours as one hand cradles the small of your back, fisting the fabric of his shirt. His other hand tilts your head, inviting your tongues to greet each other in an unhurried dance.
You move languidly on top of him, and he notices, breaking the kiss and pulling back. “You’re gonna fall asleep on me, are you?”
The way your lashes flutter in response should be illegal. “I could use a human-size pillow.”
“I should shower first.”
“No.”
“Baby, I smell like gas.”
“So?”
A smirk tugs at his lips at your insistence, and he gently lays you back against the mattress. Drawn to your charm once again, he licks into your mouth, mentally scolding himself when he gets carried away, letting the kiss linger longer than intended.
“I’ll be quick,” he promises, pulling the sheets over your body. Resigned, you simply nod, settling on your side.
Ten minutes later, you’re dozing off, teetering on the edge of unconsciousness when he slips into bed, wrapping himself around you from behind. One arm drapes over your waist, the other cushions your head, and there’s not a patch of skin between you left untouched.
Fatigue begins to delve deeper into his bones the longer he stays curled around you, but before the weight of sleep takes him, and the silence steals his chance, he huffs: “I missed you.” His beard grazes your skin in a soft, unintentional caress.
You pull his wrist to your lips, pressing a short-lived kiss to the inside of it. “Missed you, too.”
How the roles have reversed.
In the quietness of this starless night, you leave him no other choice but to believe you.
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3:34 a.m. Still hostage to the lack of light outside. The world remains submerged in the gentle tides of sleep, undulating between dreams, except for him.
Logan wakes up at 3:34 a.m. because he’s rock hard, and being flushed against your back wasn’t helping him with his situation at all. If anything, it only heightened it.
He sits at the edge of the bed, his mind running in circles, debating whether he should jump to his feet and head to the bathroom for another shower—this time, a cold one. Returning to sleep, at least in this moment, is not a viable option.
His gaze drifts to the moonlight spilling through the window, casting its pale glow across the room. Is this your doing? The question lingers, unshakable, in his thoughts. It remains as just that: a question.
When you quietly rest your chin on his shoulder, he stifles a sigh, biting the inside of his cheek. Your voice breaks through the quiet.
“What’s wrong? Can’t sleep?” Wrapping your arms around him from behind, you circle his frame, in an effort to persuade him to sink back into the mattress.
“It’s nothing,” he says, pulse accelerating. Please, don’t look down. “I’ll be back in a second.”
“But what is—”
He doesn’t get to hear the rest of your sentence. You do look down, finding the outline of his hardened cock straining against his briefs, stealing your full attention.
“Wow.”
“Go back to sleep.”
“And leave you like this?” One hand creeps toward his waistband, your breath warm against his ear. “Wouldn’t miss this for anything in the world.”
Your nails trace a path through the coarse hair at his navel, and Logan tenses. His legs feel like jelly as you cup his balls, fondling them gently between your fingers.
Behind him, your low chuckle stirs something primal in him, making his blood thrum hot beneath his skin. He should be the one doing this to you, not the other way around.
“Darlin’, I don’t—” He’s cut off by his own guttural groan when you fist his length, pumping him in rhythm with his uneven breaths. “I don’t need this.”
“Seems like you do,” you whisper, momentarily halting your ministrations to place your palm in front of his face, hoping he takes the hint. You kiss his stubble, pausing just short of his mouth. “I want to take care of you. Always do.”
Your palm hovers before him, inviting. Grabbing your wrist, he licks it, coating it in his spit and guiding you back down to him. Together, your hands glide along his length, and his gaze locks onto yours, the intensity of it making his neck tense.
You beam with delight under his stare. That red organ caged within his ribs—a blood-pumping machine of passion—surges back to life as he sees you.
He had won the battle. He had triumphed over his past; had lived enough lives, endured enough years, to arrive at this moment.
This had to be the purpose of his existence: to share this part of his stay on earth with you.
“You’re so hard,” you say, twisting your wrist at the tip of his cock, reveling in every buck of his hips, each movement a reflection of his exaltation. “Guess you did miss me.”
With a quiet growl, he reaches behind, nudging your thighs apart until they find your mound, cupping you through your underwear. “I’m not the only one who’s been missin’ someone.” He pulls the fabric aside, sliding his fingers through your wet folds. His nostrils flare as he feels how ready you are. “Why am I not surprised?”
Your breath hitches, and you press yourself closer against him, your tits against his back, mouth teasing at his neck. “That’s what happens when you’re gone.” Another kiss on his nape. “You could take me with you next time.”
“Can’t do that,” he answers, teasing your entrance. “No work would get done.”
His movements cease to a stop. Yours do too. Turning his head just enough to glance over his shoulder, he scrutinizes your expression, pride swelling in his chest as he takes in your affected state.
“You’re not goin’ back to sleep, are you?”
There’s the shake of your head. A single word escapes your lips, imbued with pure fervor: “Please.”
He captures your mouth in an ardent kiss, tugging at your shirt (which is, in fact, his) to undress you, his wandering hands roaming beneath it.
As his mouth meets your neck, something cold brushes against his lips, drawing his gaze down to what’s hanging from your neck.
His dog tags. The ones he had given you before leaving for that job, as his way of telling you I’m coming back without having to say it aloud. And you, as always, understood; had even promised to keep them safe, though he hadn’t expected you to actually wear them.
Now, with your shirt discarded, they lay against your bare skin, his name resting in the valley between your breasts.
“You like ‘em?” His fingers grip the chain and give it a gentle tug, drawing you closer so he can breathe over your lips, his breath mingling with yours. “Like knowing you’re mine? You get off on it?”
You nod in agreement. Of course, you do. Though emotionally constipated and not the most expressive, Logan is a lover who knows how to awaken desire—a good lover, indeed. A decent one.
Which is why he agrees to any idea that crosses your mind, like the one you just whispered in his ear.
He may be older than you, but he’s always been more on the traditional side. You, on the other hand, are continually searching for new ways to innovate.
The round globes of your ass jiggle over his face as he spreads you apart, entrenched by how your skin moves above him, your glistening hole clenching around nothing, as if your body itself is calling to him.
With his head propped against the headboard, he watches you take him deeper, your saliva dripping down the wiry hairs of his cock. The slick heat of your tongue traces over his slit, back and forth, driving him to the edge.
When he hears you gag, it stirs something inside him—a deep need to return the favor, to match your devotion.
At the end of the day, he’s a man on a mission, and right now, that mission is you.
Right there, with his nose and mouth buried in you, he wonders why he hadn't thought of this sooner. If he could choose a natural end like any other man, he'd wish for it to be by suffocation—your body his last breath.
Logan inhales deeply, like a man starved, working two of his fingers inside your throbbing center, his tongue flicking relentlessly over your clit, punching moan after moan out of you. Each thrust of his fingers, each stroke of his tongue, sends waves of pleasure coursing through you.
His beard, streaked with gray, leaves a trail of fire wherever your hips meet his face, pushing back against him. Every so often, you pull off his cock just to ramble, panting, about how good he's making you feel.
From where he lies, you’re a sight to behold, nothing short of divine. “Just what I needed, doll. You taste so fuckin’ sweet,” he blurts out, your frantic cries pouring into his ears as he sucks the swollen bud between his lips. “Can’t believe you let me do this to you. You love makin’ your old man happy, don’t you?”
He used to think he'd burn in hell for indulging in the desire to know you like this—raw, ungraceful.
His judgment must be fucked up, because now, all he sees in you is heaven incarnate. You must be the closest thing to it he’ll ever find.
“Shit, I…” you trail off, gasping as he replaces his fingers with his tongue, drinking from your arousal and tasting every bit of you. “I thought about you every day.”
“Bet you did, just like that night I called you. You know how I felt when you told me you were wearing my clothes?” His hand comes down with a firm slap on your right asscheek, drawing a whine from you as your movements falter. “Can smell you all over these sheets. Makes me wonder how many times you made yourself come while I was away.”
You slip the tip of his cock back in your mouth, your hands and lips working in sync. His nose brushes against the plush skin of your thighs before his teeth graze your flesh, biting down just enough to leave a sting. His fingers curl inside you, hitting that perfect spot again and again, and you moan around him, your throat vibrating against his length.
He makes you come like this, knuckles deep inside you while his thumb circles your clit. Overwhelmed by pleasure, you let go of his dick, and it hits Logan’s stomach with a wet pop. His strong arms tug you closer to his face, eyes falling closed as you ride the wave of your orgasm against his mouth, palms pressed flat on his chest.
For a brief moment, he can’t breathe, can’t feel anything but you, your scent, your taste filling his senses.
Later, he rolls you onto your back and climbs on top of you, uncertain of how much time he has spent lapping at your wetness. His hard length glides along your folds, and he lines himself up without pushing in, looking right into your eyes. 
“Remember what I told you that night over the phone?” he asks, his breath coming in quick bursts, and you nod, head lolling back as he pinches your lower lip between his fingers. “Repeat it.”
“Logan—”
“You say it, and I’ll make it happen.”
Perplexity clouds your features. “You said you’d fuck me slow and deep, just h-how I like it. Face to face, because—”. The words escape you, a sob tearing through your throat as he eases the first few inches of himself inside you, your walls instinctively making space to wrap around him.
He’s home.
“Go on. What else did I say?” he teases, relishing in it. He’s guilty as sin. “Or were you too lost in thought touchin’ yourself?”
“F-face to face,” you slur, nails digging into his scarred back, and he keeps plunging his length into your interior to the hilt. Your lips part slightly, craving the kiss that only he can give you. “You said you’d do it face to face so I could kiss you whenever I wanted.”
He hums, low in his throat, as he gives the first thrust of the night, taking great pleasure in your expression: open-mouthed, eyes scrunched, and a slight crease forming between your brows.
Smoothing his thumb over your forehead, he tsks, pausing his movements. “None of that, princess. Look at me, c’mon.”
You obey, forcing your eyes open, and in that instant, he swears he can feel every tremor coursing through you. “Logan,” you coo, your voice aching as you stretch your neck toward his mouth.
The way you say his name—seductively, charged with a fascination that riles him up—manages to ignite a fire only you can kindle. It’s all the invitation he needs.
“I know. Too much, huh?” His tone drips with condescension, teasing in a way that feels almost cruel. He can’t help it, though: it’s in very his nature. “Need to hear you say it. Need you to tell me how much you want this.”
Like everything else in your world, your patience begins to wither, hips instinctively bucking beneath him, seeking even the slightest bit of friction. But he still withholds the kiss you long for, dangling it just out of reach.
“Please,” you beg, voice breaking as you plead. “Fuck me, baby. Missed you so much while you were away. Please, please, please—”
Logan enjoys hearing you beg. He won’t pretend otherwise. There's a satisfaction in knowing he holds this power over you, that he's the only one who can unravel you this way, your body splayed open beneath him.
The thought of others who may have once been in his place, making you fall apart just like this, sets his blood on edge.
Jealousy, sharp and corrosive, crawls up his spine, and it spurs him on, guiding the tempo of his thrusts.
He wonders if he’s ever fucked you this fiercely before, with a passion that pulses from every part of him. You’re given no space for thought, no moment to catch your breath—just his unforgiving pace and the sounds spilling from your lips.
He has a way of breaking you down, turning you into a trembling, whimpering mess beneath him, and you surrender willingly, craving each second of it.
So fuckin’ tight. Can y’hear her? How badly she needs me?
Sex had never felt like this before. He’d grown accustomed to quick, meaningless fucks in poorly lit bars, fleeting encounters that left him questioning if this was all there was. If this wasn’t the best he’d ever know. 
For a while, he’d tried to solve that emptiness, searching in nameless lovers and hollow hearts for the very thing he feared most: love.
And yet, he wanted it, yearned it, guarding his desire like a secret he barely admitted to himself. Until one day, you stumbled into his life, and all the strength he thought he had wasn’t enough to push you away.
He presses deep into the back of your thighs, bringing your chests so close they're nearly brushing. Claiming your mouth in a maddening kiss, all teeth and tongue, leaving no space for softness. As he nibbles at your bottom lip, he feels you tighten around him, your cunt pulling him under, clouding his thoughts.
“Close?” he murmurs, hips snapping against you with an utterly obscene rhythm that drowns out the world, better than any song ever made. “Such a good girl. Gonna come, sweetheart? Let me see how gorgeous you look when you fall apart, making a mess just for me.”
The constant, steady drag of his cock doesn’t seem to get old for you. He’s leaving his mark within you, inside you, carving a space for himself. His tip keeps hitting all the right spots, prompting you to tilt your pelvis to meet him halfway, telling him there, yes, there. More, please.
His hand slides down, rubbing your clit with his fingers. Doesn’t need any extra help when doing so, your arousal providing all the slickness he needs. He feels like a runner on the final stretch, the finish line within reach, so close he can almost touch it, savoring the euphoria and bliss of crossing it.
The way you sing his name never loses its allure, despite all the times he’s heard it spill from your lips. Especially at this moment, with him buried deep inside you, every thrust a promise to make you feel good.
You shamelessly come while he keeps driving into you, vigorous and untamed—like a caged animal unleashed, tasting freedom for the very first time.
Ankles digging into his lower back, a trail of persistent kisses along his beard. You want him inside, that much he can tell.  It’s not like he ever finishes anywhere else, but the reminder doesn’t bother him. It only serves as a reassurance: that you still want this, want him. You haven’t changed your mind.
He sinks his teeth into your neck the instant he feels his orgasm tearing through him, hips stilling and sagging as a string of grunts abandons his being, dampening your skin even more.  He loves to fill you up, it consumes him entirely.
Such an intimate, visceral act, and then he gets to see his seed trickling down your thighs. He realizes that he doesn’t need much to be happy.
You keep kissing him, his neck, his face. It may seem absurd to say that every kiss feels like the first, yet it’s true.
Even after he’s traced all the contours of your mouth and committed every detail of your body to memory, he can’t help but feel that same thrill of excitement he experienced months ago when he dared to push beyond the boundaries he had set for himself.
Staring at each other, naked, all the love in the world seems to fill these four walls. The compassion and tenderness in your gaze remain unchanged. You’re a dream come true.
It can’t end like this. He can’t allow you to drift back into sleep without saying what needs to be said. Something has to happen, something only he can conjure.
“I think…” He hesitates. Starting with I think carries an air of uncertainty. “I don’t—”
“Logan,” you interrupt, your hand finding his. “I know.”
Yes, you do. You always seem to know everything, but that can’t be enough. He can’t lean on your unspoken understanding of his feelings.
“You still deserve to hear it.”
“It’s not necessary.”
“It is.”
More silence. The moon is the solitary spectator of his upcoming declaration. 
“You were right,” he begins, drawing your intertwined hands closer to his face, pressing a soft kiss on the back of yours. His voice drops to a murmur. It’s not just his body that feels completely exposed anymore; something deeper within him stands bare. “I’m in love with you.”
You scrutinize him as if he’s revealing the secret to eternal life. Again, you kiss his cheek, cupping it gently with your palm.
“It won’t get any better than this. There are no more layers to peel away, okay?” He offers explanations you never even asked for in the first place. “This is what I am.” Much to his dismay, you overlook his choice of words: what instead of who.
He glances away, his gaze landing on the dog tags resting against your skin. The same old guilt threatens to engulf him, as it does each time without fail, and that seems to be your cue to lower yourself to his eye level, eyebrows raised.
“I’m not with you because I’m waiting for you to change. I like you just as you are, Logan. And I want all of you, both the good and bad stuff.” A gentle smile breaks across your face as you stretch your arm to retrieve his glasses from the nightstand. Placing them on your nose, your eyes twinkle with contentment. “Do they look good on me?”
“You don’t need them yet.”
“That doesn’t mean I can’t pull them off.”
“Come here,” he mutters, sighing when you nuzzle his chest, cradling your head between his hands. He ponders what to say, what to do next, but no clear idea sounds promising.
And so it gives you the chance to speak up: “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
I hope I don’t, he thinks to himself as he brushes your hair away from your face, fingers caressing your temples. I hope I never do.
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dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! <3
3K notes · View notes
kooktrash · 9 months ago
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lost & found | jeon jungkook
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summary:your college years have never been something you dwelled on for too long. you didn’t want to think of all the chances you lost and that’s why when the guy you had a crush on moves back to town, you try not to let it affect you again. but then he brings up old memories that didn’t go the way you thought they had and you’re thrown for a loop. you’re stuck between finding something new with him and falling back into old habits of never standing up for yourself. it probably doesn’t help that he dated your best friend, where everything seemed to go wrong.
➣ genre/au: jungkook x reader [she/her, female anatomy], mid-20’s friendships. what kind of au is this? smut, plot
➣18.7k words
warnings: heavy plot. smut. a little bit of angst if you squint. tae is oc defender. shy oc. jk is an old college classmate. oc and jk got complicated, misunderstood history :(. oc is kinda insecure? bathroom sex. teasing. foreplay [f and m receiving]. very neeeedddy, long time waited sex.. unprotected. jk fucks oc on the counter, on the door. jk is tatted up but not in his college days. heavy makeout. breast play. fingering. dirty talk. oc goes down on jk as a thx 🤧 jk dated oc’s bestie but there’s HISTORY. oc’s bestie is the real villain im sorry. took advantage of two insecure college kids >:( love lost, love found vibes. just read I swear it’s not that bad 😭 no cheating. FRIEND BREAK UPS. oc gets confident toward the end
song inspo: bff — jesse
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As you settle into adulthood, you learn a few things about friendships. There tends to be a slight divide between those you’ve known since you were young and those you’ve collected over the years. Some might value the friendships they’ve held longer more than those that are more recent but for others, what matters is the trust that comes with friendship no matter with whom it might be with. You’re somewhere in between, you think.
You have people like Taehyung who you’ve only recently started to get to know and have had a chance to grow close with. He doesn’t know everything about you yet but he doesn’t need to, he seems to understand enough now to be an important person in your current life. He’s the kind of friend you're thankful you’ve met on some random occasion.
Then you have someone like your best friend, Miyoung. You’re not sure the last time you had ever been truly without her at your side. From your earlier school years to college, to now when you’re both settled into what would essentially be your careers and private lives. She’s… she's special to you in a way that you're not sure you could ever find in someone else—or at least that’s what she says?
There hasn’t been a time where it wasn’t the two of you practically glued together at the hip and you credit her for her outgoing nature that always seemed to balance with your more introverted demeanor. Of course it didn't mean you couldn’t make friends without her [take Taehyung for example] but she’s always seemed to gravitate people toward you with her energy. That’s why you're not at all surprised by tonight’s events and how everyone seemed surprised that you came alone.
”Honestly, I’m happy you made it, it feels like we haven’t seen each other in so long,” Your friend, Hoseok, pointed out as he led you to the private area of the lounge bar where it seemed like a reunion was taking place, “When Miyoung said she wasn’t going to make it, I thought you probably weren’t going to show up and—“
”Is that what you would have preferred?” You asked with a teasing smile as he began to stumble over his words, attempting to backtrack.
“What? Y/n, don’t you know I’ve been desperately enamored by you since your first year? Don’t make such crass comments,” He joked back, helping you out of your coat as you grew closer to the room filled with loud chatter. He led you with hands on your shoulders and said, “And between us, I’m a little happy she didn’t come. I wasn’t really in the mood for this to turn into a Battle of the Exes fighting ground.”
”What do you mean?” You barely had time to ask as you entered the room where an explosion of your name was heard by old college classmates of yours who all seemed on the border of tipsy and in a good mood. You couldn’t help but smile, looking at everyone at once till your eyes fell on the person in question.
He didn’t hesitate to meet your gaze with equal surprise as you sat across from him, just one person down the line. Immediately the people next to you tried sparking a conversation and you used it as a distraction to keep from gawking at him. When Miyoung told you she wouldn’t make it, you debated coming yourself but after some begging from Hoseok you decided to come along. Despite your best friend not joining, you're kind of glad she didn’t. Hoseok is right, it would have been a battlefield and you did not want to be caught in the middle of it.
“Y/n.”
Ignore, maybe? Just ignore and maybe he’ll forget trying to talk to you and your head won't be on the chopping block. You looked down the table at some of the other people you remember from campus activities or long lectures and tried to ignore the growing smile you could see on his face from the corner of your eye.
“Hungry?” The person next to you asked as he made you look his way. There were platters of hand food across the bar table and you happily took whatever Jimin offered. As much as you hated it, you couldn’t help but look across the table to make sure it really was who you thought it was,
Jeon Jungkook.
Better known as your best friend’s ex boyfriend.
Or worse, the first guy you liked when you started University.
”Hi,” he said in a low voice, catching you in the middle of staring at him. In your defense, he seemed so different—more matured if you will. Now he was covered in tattoos and piercings, he lost that sort of boyish charm but clearly gained something else along the way. He was buff and bigger, more intimidating yet alluring? Safe to say he didn’t look like the ‘Boy Next Door’ you had a crush on in your English seminar.
“You’re here,” was all you could think to say back, giving up on your sorry attempt at ignoring him for no real reason other than saving yourself from an awkward encounter.
”So are you,” Jungkook bit into his bottom lip as he looked at you closely. How is it that someone could look so different but the same all at once? In your gaze he could still see that curiosity in everything that he remembered from back then when he would spend lectures wondering what was on your mind. In your appearance, he can see how much you’ve changed physically. They were surely small differences in everyone else’s eyes but he always had a tendency to pay too much attention to you and it would get him in trouble.
You gave him a polite nod in response to his blatant observation that matched yours and attempted to shift your attention elsewhere but he didnt let it get too far. He cleared his throat, “How have you been?”
“Me?” You asked, “Okay, I guess. Busy with work.”
“So I’ve heard, you’re in marketing now, right? What happened to your writing?” Jungkook asked, seeming genuinely curious to know. He didn’t care for the conversations happening around him more than he did hearing your response now that you looked more willing to give him one.
“It wouldn’t have paid the bills—You remember my writing?” You asked, surprise evident in your features that he couldn’t help but smile.
It was hard for him to forget his biggest competition at the time. He let out a small sigh, ready to go on about being unable to forget a certain piece you wrote when a firm hand was placed on his shoulder. Yoongi stood over him, “Smoke break?”
Say no, he thought. Jungkook could easily reject the offer and continue what he was going to say. Without meaning to, he looked back at you, but you had excused yourself from the table in the blink of an eye. Nodding hesitantly, he grabbed his jacket and followed his friend out while he wondered where you went so suddenly.
You were hiding in the washroom when you got the call from Miyoung, like she had a sixth sense telling her to reach out.
“So how is it? Is it as boring as I said it’d be?” Miyoung asked as she waited in line for some nightclub she was going to with some of her various other friends.
“Um, kind of?” You said without much thought—knowing it was what she wanted to hear. In reality, it was fun. You were greeted warmly that it washed away your earlier worries and you’re being taken care of by old friends you didn't get to talk to as much. Not to mention, you’re seeing Jungkook again after a couple years of hearing and thinking of nothing about the guy, so you don’t actually think it's boring.
Miyoung snorted, “Figures, good thing I didn’t go. I could not sit through more than an hour of everyone going on and on about what they’ve been up to. I mean, yeah I miss Hobi and stuff but I could see him whenever, y’know? Who all showed up?”
“I think everyone,” You admitted with a nervous bite of your lip. It was now or never. You tell her that it seems like Jungkook has come to visit or has come back to stay and you’re not sure how she’ll take that. She might even march over here just to tell him how she's felt these last two years and chances are that’ll ruin the easy vibe for everyone else. You leaned against the stall door and talked with her.
“So you’re back,” Yoongi asked with a smirk as he took a drag from his cigarette, “My Golden Boy’s back? Someone pinch me.”
“Funny guy,” Jungkook said sarcastically as he looked out onto the busy street. Yoongi shrugged, turning toward the bar window looking around to see the group, “Aren’t you happy you came?”
“Yeah, it’s great seeing everyone again,” Jungkook told him casually, flicking the end of his cigarette and watching the ash fall to the cold cement of the street.
“Want to know who surprised me tonight?” Yoongi asked, looking over at him to see if his expression would change at all, “Y/n.”
Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly, “What do you mean?”
He shrugged, dropping ash to the ground, “Y/n never comes out to these sorts of things, and if she does come it’s usually with Miyoung but she came by herself tonight.
“Yeah…” Jungkook zoned out a bit as he thought about it more, “Why doesn’t she meet up with you guys often?”
“You know Y/n doesn't really go out,” Yoongi said, “And she’s busy with work, at least that’s what Hobi says. I don’t know, when Hobi said Miyoung wasn’t coming tonight we both expected Y/n to not show too but… hey, aren’t you happy she isn’t here?”
“I don’t really care either way,” Jungkook confessed truthfully, “But do you know if… y’know, you might have heard something about Y/n and if she’s still seeing someone or—“
“Oh God,” Yoongi couldn’t help but laugh as he put his cigarette out, Jungkook doing the same, “It’s been like three years, man.”
Jungkook watched him laugh as he walked off leaving him to follow, “What?”
Yoongi held the door open for him, “You know what, but I’ll answer your question, anyway. Last I heard Y/n is single, so what now?”
He waited for Jungkook to respond but he wasn’t listening anymore. There were too many things on his mind that he needed to work out before you came back to the table.
“What do you mean you’re leaving? You just got here,” Jimin said to you as he held your hand in his to stop you from leaving, “One more drink.”
“It’s late,” You tried to say, “I’ve got to be up early.”
“Liar, it’s a Saturday night, Y/n. Sit your ass back down,” Hobi said with a firm voice making you sit down immediately. He flashed you a cute smile before asking everyone if they wanted another round of drinks.
“So, what were we talking about earlier?” Jungkook asked, trying to get you to talk to him again, “Your writing? Yeah, how can I forget it? Remember we used to read each other’s essays all the time before… well.”
Before he broke up with your best friend.
“Yeah, I remember,” You admitted, trying to find something to say. What kind of questions would Miyoung want to know? What do you want to know? What should you prepare your friend to know? “How long are you visiting?”
“Actually, I just moved back, I got a job doing graphic design for a local company,” Jungkook told you with the hint of a smile, “It’s my first time meeting up with everyone again.”
You let yourself indulge in small talk with him here and there but usually when he started it. The night had been fine, you enjoyed your time but after a while all you wanted to do was go home and Hoseok couldn’t make you stay any longer. You ended your night wondering if you should go out more.
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Everything has a backstory, right? How it all started and yours seems pretty tacky. You spent the first couple years of University doing what you had to do in school and letting Miyoung drag you to whatever outing she had on the weekends. Some time in your third year, you joined this English class with the most boring, monotonous professor ever and that’s where you met Jungkook.
In all honesty, you thought he was cute from the get go. Sitting through three hours of a boring lecture led people to do odd things and one of those for you was staring at the cute guy who sat down a couple rows from you. It was just a little thing you did to pass time so you never expected anything to actually happen from it.
Then one day most of the seats were taken [naturally, it was a large class] and he seemed to have been running late because his usual cycle of seats were all taken except the one next to yours. Despite all those times you would find yourself ogling the stranger, when he was right next to you, you didn’t say a single word.
It was Jungkook who spoke first and it was just to ask if you could help him catch up. That day you were supposed to read someone else’s prompt and revise it and you chose each other which then trickled down to a routine of it. Without speaking much, he would sit next to you or silently save you a seat whenever you were running late and the one time you decided to switch it up and sit elsewhere…
Well, he was practically pouting the whole day.
It had been a nearly perfect set up to what could have been if you just allowed yourself to go for things but it didn’t happen that way.
One random Tuesday night, Miyoung wanted to go out for some cheap drinks and you found yourselves at a bar not too far from campus where you ran into a senior in one of your classes. Yoongi had come up to you first, just greeting you and making small talk when Jungkook who apparently had come with him, recognized you too.
They drank with you and Miyoung for a bit and you honestly thought it had been fun. You had never had real conversations with him outside of school work and it was nice to have more people to hang with that it just felt natural. Though at some point through the night Miyoung had gotten kind of flirty. She claims she assumed you had wanted Yoongi and not Jungkook and practically called dibs on him despite meeting him for the first time that night.
When she made her intents obvious, you couldn’t help but backtrack.
You always considered yourself pretty self aware about yourself. There was nothing special really and when you compare yourself to Miyoung there just isn’t much competition.
She was the perfect Prom Queen type who always had the nicest clothes or the cutest boyfriends, the best awards and most interesting stories. The amount of guys she would pull who you didn’t even have a chance with was insane. And though you might sound bitter, you’re not. You’ve never been the type to want the spotlight or attention and being best friends with someone so damn perfect was that you could always stay in the shadows.
So when she started flirting with Jungkook, you didn’t really notice his awkward glances or how he shied away from her proximity. You only saw how he smiled politely and listened to her go on and on about how great she is and assumed he was into her like all the others had been.
You tried to act normal after that, you would talk to him every now and then and never questioned why he stopped talking to you as much until he started dating Miyoung but you weren’t bitter. You were understanding.
It made sense he would date her. She was beautiful and smart and someone people pine for. It was a given that that would happen so once again, you didn’t take it personal.
They dated for a couple months [nothing serious at all] and then he dumped her which resulted in Miyoung practically forbidding you from even looking his way at all. You completed your last year without thinking about him despite the various mutual friends you shared and went on with your life when he moved.
That was the backstory and why you felt so awkward seeing him the other night.
You haven’t told Miyoung yet because there’s a high chance she won’t care at all and would get annoyed that you even thought to bring it up. Your friend is very pretty and she likes being in relationships so she’s been in quite a few since they dated and probably doesn’t care to be reminded at all.
The only person you’ve told is Taehyung.
“But did you at least have fun?” He asked as the two of you sat at a small restaurant for lunch. You nodded your head, “Yeah, it was alright. It was just weird, for me at least.”
“Why?” Taehyung asked as he dug into his meal, stuffing his mouth with no care in the world, “I mean it’s obvious everyone was happy to see you and didn’t want you to leave. Who cares if Miyoung didn’t go, clearly it didn’t matter to anyone else.”
You didn’t say anything, taking your time to enjoy your meal as you drifted off in thought. He is right, you know that sometimes it’s just in your head and you overthink things. You always feel like you’re boring to others so it’s natural for you to assume no one would be happy to see just you and not your bubble of joy best friend. There has to be a certain level of comfort between you and another person to show personality and it’s rare people get to see it.
“But how’d it go with that guy? Did he ask you about her?” Taehyung asked with a hint of curiosity.
“Not that I can remember. I don’t know, it was kind of awkward but we talked a bit,” You told him honestly, “He just moved back down so that’s cool I guess.”
Taehyung looked at you skeptically but you avoided his gaze, trying to distract yourself with your phone.
yoongi: throwing a welcome back party for jk this weekend, u coming?
you: idk, if I’m free
yoongi: … ur always free🤒
yoongi: just say yes, bring whoever u want
you: but is he ok with me going
yoongi: y wouldn’t he be
yoongi: he’s the one who asked me to make sure u come
you: okkkkkk 🥹
“Tae, can you come with me to this party please?” You asked, immediately showing your friend your text messages leaning across the table for him to see them clearly.
Taehyung’s brows furrowed as he read through the texts carefully, “Jungkook is the ex boyfriend, right? Why’s he so interested in you going?”
“He’s not,” you said, “He’s probably just doing it to be nice, since everyone I know will be there.”
“What if he’s… y’know, interested?” Taehyung asked curiously and you nearly choked on your drink.
“No, oh my god,” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “We were just classmates and we stopped talking after he dumped Miyoung so—“
“Yeah but did you ever stop to think ‘hm, I’m the one who knew this guy first and then Miyoung went and snatched him from me before I even got a chance to explore’,” Taehyung said in a high pitched voice, presumably mocking yours. You reached over to playfully shove his shoulder making him grin mischievously.
“What? No, it wasn’t like that at all,” You tried to say, “Him and I didn’t even really talk until the night he met her at the bar and… no, that’s crazy. He liked Miyoung right away.”
Taehyung just sighed, giving up on trying to get through to you, “If you say so, but who’s the one he approached first? Because I can tell you right now it wasn’t her.”
Despite how he expresses himself when he talks about your best friend, he doesn’t dislike her. He thinks Miyoung is alright, maybe a little too much for his tastes but that doesn’t mean anything. He understands the two of you are really close and although he has had many chances to befriend her too, he just hasn’t.
He’ll talk to her if you force them to hang out together but he would never go out of his way to be her friend. It might sound bad but Taehyung is pretty protective over you and rightfully so, he feels.
He doesn’t want to badmouth one of his closest friends but you have a tendency to overthink things. You don’t realize how great you are and make yourself seem smaller and he thinks Miyoung and other people like her in your life are at fault. He’s heard some of the things she says to you and it’s like you hold her up so highly there’s no room for you to see how pretty, smart, and talented you are. And before anyone gets the wrong idea, he’s not in love with you or anything.
You’re too good for him so he gave up on that idea long ago.
Plus, now that he’s able to connect some of those pieces from when you were in Uni, some things are clicking into place for him. Miyoung tends to dim your light a bit, or copy something you do and claim it as her own and when he hears this little backstory between all of your old college friends… he just can’t help but wonder if Jungkook was one of those things she claimed for herself.
With that thought in mind, he agreed to go with you to this party and see for himself what is there and what could be. He just wants what’s best for you and for you to be able to go and get it without worrying you’re not good enough or stepping on anyone’s toes.
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When Friday night came, your apartment was filled with loud music and even louder complaints coming from one person in particular. Taehyung was just listening to you and Miyoung go back and forth about tonight’s plans and it got to the point where you couldn’t say anything but the truth about what you would be doing tonight.
“It’s a welcome back party for Jungkook,” You said, trying your hardest not to let your voice sound strained.
“What? When did he get back?” Miyoung asked, sitting up from your bed and tossing your pillow off her lap, “Like he moved back?”
“Yeah, I guess not too long ago,” You said with a shrug, looking in your mirror to see if you liked the way you looked or not, “I don’t know, Yoongi is the one who invited me.”
“Why didn’t I know? Why wasn’t I invited?” Miyoung asked, turning to Taehyung like he would have the answers.
“Probably because you’re his ex girlfriend and you ditched out on their little reunion so you could party,” Taehyung said, not bothering to look up from his phone.
“Yeah but, why’d they ask Y/n? She’s not even friends with him,” Miyoung said with a slight scoff, “You’re not actually going right? We could go out, just the three of us. You already hung out with them, you and I haven’t gone out in weeks, let’s just do our own thing. Unless you’re trading me in for all of them.”
You looked at her with apologetic eyes. You’ve been busy with work recently and she is right. The last people you hung out with aside from Taehyung were all of them two weekends ago so it would only be fair to hang out with her this time. It shouldn’t mean anything that you were invited and that Jungkook wanted to make sure you were going. Miyoung was supposed to be your best friend so how could you go to a party she wasn’t invited to?
Just as you were going to give in and shoot Yoongi a text that you weren’t going to make it, Taehyung spoke up for you. “Why don’t you just come with? One of them said Y/n can bring whoever she wants and I’m already going so it’s not like you have to be by yourself. Plus, aren’t the rest of them supposed to be your friends too? Y/n already agreed.”
“Why didn’t you ask me first?”
“I didn’t realize I needed permission,” You couldn’t help but sigh, sitting on the edge of the bed to comfort her, “We can just stop by, have a drink or two and leave if it’s lame. Come on.”
After much convincing, the three of you arrive at Yoongi’s place which was a small house with good outdoor space and the inside was packed with people already. The amount of party goers made you anxious but at the same time slightly thrilled that surely the attention would never be on you with so many people around.
“Y/n! Miyoung!” Namjoon spotted you two first and he threw his arms around you both with a grin, “Surprised to see you here, Mimi.”
“Yeah, probably because I was the only one not invited,” Miyoung said bitterly, making Namjoon take a drink from his cup and look away nervously.
“Let’s get you guys drinks then,” He said with an awkward clear of his throat looking to Taehyung, “What’s up, I’m Namjoon.”
“Taehyung,” he said, following you to the drinks table. The music played loudly and there were a lot of people having a good time that it was somewhat easy to try and blend in and act normal. Miyoung had a pout on her face, looking around worried but Namjoon brightened her mood and every now and then another friend would stop by to greet her. Taehyung mostly clung to you and only drifted away when a friend would spark conversation with you but you were thankful he was around.
“Y/n,” someone called out to you from across the room. You couldn’t make them out through the crowd of people and it took a while before you spotted Jungkook making his way to your direction.
“Jungkook,” you said with a nervous breath, looking around for Miyoung but she was off with Namjoon talking about god knows what.
“How long have you been here? Why didn’t you say anything?” Jungkook asked, slightly more energetic than usual. His hair was messy, with strands out of place, he wore a basic black tee and baggy jeans so why did he look good? It’s still hard for you to wrap your mind around who this is.
He’s gotten so muscular and just… more intimidating with his tattoo sleeve and piercings and it’s so unexpected but in a good way.
“I, um, you know, I just assumed you were busy,” you lied, looking around for one of your friends. Taehyung was at the table getting a drink and he’ll be back soon to save you before Miyoung looks around.
Jungkook found himself looking around too, as if he could see what you did but he came up short, “Did you come with anyone?”
“Yeah, Miyoung and a friend of mine,” you rushed the words out in hopes of sounding casual but Jungkook didn’t even bat an eye.
“So what are you doing alone?” He asked with a raised brow, taking a step closer to you, “Actually, there’s something that’s been on my mind since last time I saw you and I uh… I haven’t had the chance to say it.”
You blinked nervously, looking up at him and how close he was to you, “What is it?”
He licked his lips, playing with his lip rings shyly, “Well, I was wondering if you would like to get together some time, just you and I. We’ve never had the chance to hang out.”
“We’re hanging out right now, aren’t we?” You asked, feigning naivety that almost seemed teasing. In truth, you could sense what he was possibly asking and you needed him to stop. There was no reason for you two to hang out alone, no matter how much the thought made you giddy.
“I guess,” Jungkook couldn’t help but let his eyebrows knit together in confusion. He took another step closer to you, hand on the wall behind you for support. , “But I was still hoping… I know it’s probably kind of awkward but we’re grown, right? We can get together without worrying about anyone else.”
“Who says it’s because I’m worried?” You asked with a hint of playfulness in an attempt to ease some of the growing tension caused by the way he looked at you, “Where is this coming from all of a sudden?”
That made him crack a smile, “All of a sudden?”
“Yes, all of a sudden,” another voice added in from behind him and you jumped at the sound. Jungkook didn’t bother to turn around, he was more focused on the way you tried to look behind him and meet Miyoung’s glare.
“Where’d you run off to?” You asked, pushing past him making Jungkook slide his hand off the wall and roll his eyes at the disruption.
“Somewhere I felt wanted,” she said bitterly, eyes on Jungkook as she spoke to you, “Let’s go, I’m bored.”
“I thought you were having a good ti—“
“I’m not, Y/n,” Miyoung almost snapped, “You said we could have a drink and go. We’ve been here for like forever and I want to leave. That’s what we agreed on.”
“Okay, jeez, let’s go then,” You said with a sigh, “Let me find Taehyung.”
“Go, then,” Miyoung said, making you take a deep breath, trying to tell yourself she had a right to be upset. She didn’t want you [as her best friend] talking to her ex boyfriend. And you did say you didn’t have to stick around for long…
“What?” Miyoung asked Jungkook with a roll of her eyes as she caught him staring, “Did I interrupt something?”
“You still don’t know how to speak to people like they’re human beings,” Jungkook said simply, “And it’s sad to watch.”
“Screw you,” Miyoung scoffed, “You’re just mad I stopped you from trying to ask my best friend out. My friends are off limits.”
“She was my friend too,” Jungkook said as a reminder, “And I can do whatever I want. You’re just childish.”
She snorted, “Right, says the guy who fumbled me.”
He couldn’t seem to act mature anymore and before he stop himself he said, “Remember, you’re not the one I wanted anyway.”
He walked off without much care for how she felt and found his other friends, wondering who it was you ran off to find.
“Tae, can we go now?” You asked your friend. Taehyung had found himself a group of people to entertain with his stories and had nearly forgotten who he had tagged along with until you pulled him to the side.
“Uh, okay,” Taehyung cleared his throat awkwardly, “What happened? I thought everyone was having a good time.”
“Miyoung wants to leave,” You said with a small sigh, “She saw me talking to Jungkook and I just don’t want it to become this big problem so can we please just go?”
Taehyung placed an arm on your shoulder, leading you to Miyoung who waited at the door, “Yeah, sure let’s go.”
The car had only stayed silent for the first half of the drive to Miyoung’s apartment. Somewhere between the last red light and this short stretch of road, a fire had been lit underneath her which made her start up again.
“So what was that back there?” Miyoung asked from the backseat and you debated just acting asleep or like you were too drunk to listen properly. She leaned forward, looking at you closely.
“What do you mean?” You asked nervously.
“You know exactly what I mean,” Miyoun said with an annoyed tone, “First you get invited to a party for my ex boyfriend and next thing I know the two of you are whispering in the corner looking like you’re about to kiss and like I’m not even in the room.”
Taehyung had to bite his tongue from responding, worried that if he spoke too soon it would only make you seem more weak to her antics. He just tapped his fingers against the window trying to keep silent
“Miyoung,” You started with a sigh, “You’re overreacting. It was nothing, we’re friends—“
“Since when?” Miyoung scoffed, “You’re supposed to be my friend, Y/n.”
“I am,” You said defensively, “And if you want to talk about this tomorrow then that’s fine but right now it’s late and we’ve all been having a decent time so don’t ruin it…”
“Y/n’s right, let’s end the night on a good note,” Taehyung finally said but he seemed to go ignored by you two.
“You’re not though, real friends wouldn’t flirt with their best friend’s ex boyfriend—“
“You two dated for less than five months and it was years ago,” You blurted out, “I knew him before that so don’t act like I’m betraying you.”
“Oh my god, I knew you’d still be bitter I started seeing him,” Miyoung said, suddenly making you hide your face in your hand from exhaustion. “I didn’t know you had a thing for him back then. You should’ve said something instead of holding it against me like you do everything else.”
“What are you talking about?” You couldn’t help but scoff.
Miyoung’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, “You know exactly what I’m talking about and it’s not fair.”
Taehyung took a deep breath, fingers clenched around the steering wheel unable to bite his tongue any longer, “Miyoung I don’t think you’re being fair. You’re clearly drunk and you just want to arg—“
“Shut up, Taehyung,” She snapped, slurring on her words a bit and not even realizing the car came to a stop in front of her building, “I’m not even talking you and you can stop acting like Y/n’s bodyguard because last time I checked she’s a grown adult who could speak for herself. God, I swear everyone is the same. Just because Y/n is boring and insecure, doesn’t mean she doesn’t know how to speak for herself.”
“Get out. We’re at your place so just go,” Taehyung said, annoyed with the harshness she was projecting on you, “Y/n might put up with you but I won’t.”
With an irritated scoff, she swung the back door open, “Fine, screw you guys too.”
The door slammed shut as she stormed up to her apartment and Taehyung waited till she was gone to say, “Fuck, what did that girl drink? Y/n, why do you put up with that? Hey.”
You stayed silent for a moment letting her words sink in. Whatever, she yelled and threw a tantrum, that’s fine, that’s normal. But she seriously thinks you’re just a bore and maybe you’re starting to believe it too. If it weren’t for you always being cautious over how she might feel about you and what you do, you wouldn’t seem so boring.
Or was that just how you were and now you’re trying to say it’s because of Miyoung? Jeez, you just can’t seem to make up your mind about anything but all you know is that… you’re not boring. Well, you don’t have to be. If she wants to think that always backing up whatever she says makes you boring, then maybe it’s time you just do what you want even if she doesn’t like it.
“Tae, can you do me a favor,” You finally said, making him look over at you curiously. The car is still parked in front of Miyoung’s place and he’s been waiting for you to speak anyway, “What?”
“Take me back to the party please.”
Miyoung was wrong, if you were boring it’s because she made you boring. Anytime you did anything on your own, she always had to ruin it and you just let her. You just let Miyoung monopolize your time and make you her right-hand in everything. You’ve never gotten the chance to truly put yourself out there because you firmly believed you didn’t compare.
Maybe you needed to stop overthinking and just do what you want, be confident—or at least act like you are.
“Y/n! You’re back?” Yoongi asked once you made it to the party again, “Let me tell you, I was mad because I thought you left before even talking to me.”
“I’m so very sorry,” You said playfully, “But do you know where Jungkook is?”
He seemed to freeze up, surprise written on his face and he looked down at you questioning. You held his gaze, watching the wheels turn in his head before he was blurting out, “I don’t know. The bathroom?”
You blinked nervously, letting him slip away from you when someone called for him and were left standing there. Your mind was racing with ideas yet you couldn’t think of what to do.
What did you expect coming back?
What does this prove?
You feel anxious and insecure and maybe she was right, you’re boring and you don’t even speak up or do anything exciting.
“Jungkook?” You called out to him as you walked down the hall of doors, knocking or opening whichever door you landed on. You got to the last door with a bated breath, realizing it’s a bedroom and closed yourself in.
Your sense of bravado had been short lived. Whatever burst of confidence you had was completely gone now that you sat alone in the guest room contemplating just going home or not.
In all honesty, this was stupid from the very beginning. You let Miyoung’s words get to you and you acted before you could think. You didn’t need to prove anything. Plus, you don’t want Jungkook. Maybe once before you did… but not… anymore?
God, you felt like an idiot.
“Y/n?”
Your heart dropped with a sense of disbelief as you looked up. The once pitch black room was illuminated by a block of light from the open bathroom door. Jungkook stood at the doorway, brows furrowed as he looked at who sat on the bed.
“Jungkook,” you cleared your throat awkwardly.
“You’re back?” He asked, looking you up and down with a hint of suspicion. You nodded your head silently, making him blink with confusion.
You stood up from the bed suddenly, “Are you done in there?”
“Uh, yeah,” he moved out of your way, watching you closely as you closed the door in his face before he could say anything else.
Maybe this had been a sign that you didn’t want to talk to him but he couldn’t bring himself to leave the privacy in the bedroom to go out where everyone else was. He could hear the faucet running but oblivious to how you wet your face to try and snap yourself out of this strange mood before drying off. When you opened the door, you didn’t expect to see him standing there right in front of you.
“Everything alright?” He asked, halfway in the doorway, walking forward making you step deeper into the bathroom.
“Yeah, everything’s great,” you said with a strained smile, backing away, “Just—what about you? Has it been fun, this is all for you, right?”
“I guess,” Jungkook shrugged, “But it would have been more fun if you stayed.”
“Good thing I came back then,” you couldn’t help but laugh nervously, leaning against the sink counter.
“Good thing,” Jungkook licked his dry lips, “Y/n, about what I was saying earlier… I would honestly like for us together sometime, just the two of us.”
A small, shy smile appeared on your lips as you thought about earlier and repeated yourself playfully, “We’re hanging out right now, aren’t we?”
“I guess,” he blinked in confusion, looking down at you and struggling to keep his composure. Your response was a bit of a let down since he hoped you had come back to see him and he should have known better. You would never take him seriously after his mess with Miyoung and he was always reaching for the stars thinking it could work out.
Plus, you’re too good for him. You always have been.
He can’t explain why, but he’s always felt a sense of ease with you, like everything was perfect. As shameful as it is to admit, Miyoung had reasons to be worried.
When they dated… well, it didn’t stop him from thinking about you from time to time. Miyoung was aware of it too and he looks back on it now and realizes how wrong he was then. It was wrong for him to think about you when he was never able to have you, and he will be much less now.
“Am I wrong? Is it not just the two of us now?” You asked, swallowing the lump in your throat and looking to the bathroom door which was closed some time ago.
“Y/n,” he said it softly but you could sense his warning tone, like you were going to get yourself in trouble. Jungkook wanted to believe you were aware of what this looked like yet he knew there was a chance you weren’t. He couldn’t just go for it.
He could not just go for it.
Not even if you looked up at him with a look in your eyes that said you might want him to…
He could be dreaming it up.
Would you want him to?
No. No way, you would never, that’s how this all started right? You wouldn’t want him the way he wanted you and you’ll go be with someone else while he beats himself up for another failed attempt. He’s not in college anymore, he can’t make the same mistakes.
You do not want him.
“Y/n,” he said with a sigh, “I think we should get out n—“
It was soft but sudden. One second he was giving up on everything he had been hoping for and was ready to go on once again without telling you how he really felt. The next, your lips were on his, barely giving him a chance to feel the tenderness of it before pulling away with a gasp.
“Jungkook,” you covered your mouth with your hand, “Oh my god. I’m s-sorry, I, that was not okay. I shouldn’t have done that.”
You were rambling, apologizing for doing it without asking him first but in all honesty, he couldn’t hear you anymore. There was a strange ringing in his ear that only seemed to stop when he grabbed your face in his hands, and pulled you into a real kiss.
To keep yourself from leaning back too far, you wrapped your arms around his neck and met him the rest of the way. You kissed him back with an equal sense of urgency that had his eyes falling shut and letting himself get lost in the moment. Your lips were soft against his own and his lip rings felt cold on your tongue the first couple times.
At one point you surprised him by nipping at his piercings with a soft tug and it had his hands tightening around your waist, using his strength to pull you onto the counter with ease. It made it easier to kiss you and he let the small sigh you let out guide his tongue between your lips. Your hands were in his dark hair, and you surprised him with the way you took lead of the kiss. It felt like he was melting into you and it was doing things to him.
“Y/n,” he mumbled softly, “I want you so bad.”
You pulled back from him with widened eyes. It was the first time you heard him sound that way and you knew he meant it. He looked at you with an intense gaze and it felt good to be looked at that way by him. You wanted him too, right? That’s why you came back. That's why you were so upset back then. Why can’t you have him now?
What was really stopping you?
Nothing.
The second time he kissed you, you didn’t hesitate from doing more and it had his mouth dropping when he felt your hand trace down his toned chest. He let that feeling motivate his hands to do the same to you and they ran along your sides till he could feel your front. His hands slipped under your top and found your chest, gently reaching to touch you as he kissed you with his tongue.
Your fingers trailed down his navel to the waistband of his jeans, tugging softly and teasingly that you felt the way he sucked in a shaky breath. When he didn’t pull away to tell you to stop, you took it as a sign to go a little farther and undo the button and zipper. Jungkook’s rough fingers caressed your breasts ever so softly but with an added pressure that made you let out a small sigh, especially when he ran his thumb over your nipples.
He released a light groan against your lips when you got more confident in your actions and slipped into the hem of his Calvin Klein’s. You barely touched his growing member but you felt it harden against you, the more attention you gave to it and it was all just exciting to you. His kisses were needy and his rough hands felt so good against your sensitive buds that you couldn’t hold yourself back. You wanted to make him feel good too and you could tell you were.
Jungkook helped you tug his jeans down enough for you to have more reign over him and you touched his bare dick so softly. The first touch was light and teasing, like you were still letting him get lost in the feeling before you actually did anything but it was soft that it made a tingle run down his spine. Goosebumps rose on his skin and blood ran straight to his cock making it easier for you softly palm him to full hardness.
You circled your fingers around his tip, softly running your thumb around the ring feeling him twitch with need and softly sliding down to his base.
His movement grew rougher, he was no longer softly caressing your breasts but more groping, never getting enough for the softness of them. When you began to stroke him gently, he found it hard to keep himself from digging his nails into your flesh to ground himself and it made a hand of his fall to your leg. His palm was wide and flat against your inner thigh, tracing his lips down your jaw and to your neck to try and distract himself from getting too lost into the feeling.
“Fuck,” he huffed, licking his dry lips as he began to slowly fuck into your closed fist, deaf to the sound of music just outside the bedroom you two were hiding in. The bathroom felt even smaller at this point yet he couldn’t bring himself to put a stop to it now. Especially not when your hand began to fuck his cock faster, with more vigor as he twitched in your hold making his nails dig into your thigh harshly.
Your skirt was scrunched up around your hips at this point and he could see the soft blue of your laced underwear and couldn’t stop himself anymore. He had grown too curious to have you and with his hand so close already, he let his thumb trace along your covered folds.
They were already sensitive at this point and his sudden touch made your insides tighten with arousal, your back straightened in surprise and a light moan left your lips. The sound snapped his attention away from his own pleasure and when he did it again, he swallowed your moan with his mouth on yours.
He couldn’t take thing slow anymore, especially not when his dick felt so close to the edge already and was trying not to cum all over your hand and so soon.
You were withering against him, squirming on the counter to feel more of his hand against your heat. Your fingers tightened in his hair when he reached under to the hem of your panties, pulling them down as far as he could. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he tugged them down your thighs. Jungkook pulled away from your lips with a slight groan as he brought his fingers to your lips. He pressed into your bottom lip watching close as you drew your mouth open and took them in. As you licked between two fingers, your hand’s stroking sped up with more pressure that had him pushing them deeper down your throat.
When he pulled them out there was an obvious line of drool connecting his fingertips to your lips and he brought his hand between your legs once more. The mixture between his rough fingers and the slick that now coated them made a tingle run down your spine when they ran along your folds. You pinched the fabric of his shirt as he circled your hardening clit with his middle finger while his index finger began to tease your sensitive labor.
He ran the longer finger down your slit, dipping into the puddle of arousal that formed at your center before using it to wet your clit and massage you gently.
You looked into his eyes as he finally pressed his middle finger into your waiting cunt, giving you a second to respond and he couldn’t help but let his lips slip open with heavy breaths. Your hand stopped its actions as you took in the feeling of him pulling out his finger before pushing it forward once more. Each time felt hotter than the last and it made him want to take things further. When he thought you adjusted enough, he teased the tip of his ring finger in with his middle one and kept a steady pace of thrusting.
At this point you began to stroke him again, rubbing against his mushroom tip where a thick vein was felt along the underside of it. Your hips had began to move with the motion of his hand and you were fucking his fingers into you while fucking his cock with a closed fist. The both of you were left speechless, unsure how long you had been locked away in the bathroom but not caring either.
You felt more impatient than him but you couldn’t help it. You can’t remember the last time you let someone else touch you and none felt quite like this. Jungkook seemed to know where to kiss, where to press or pay attention to and he never left a part of you untouched. Even now as he thrusted his fingers into you, his other hand was at your chest again, fingers pinching your nipple and tugging harshly but it brought little whines from your lips.
“Jungkook,” You were breathlessly calling for him and you’re sure that if your back wasn’t to the mirror, you would be able to see how desperate you looked to him. Your other hand was on his hips, pulling him forward in hopes of getting him to get the hint that you needed more, “Fuck me.”
“What?” He asked with heavy breaths, looking down at the way the tip of his cock pressed against your inner thigh now, “Really?”
“Please,” You found yourself begging, desperately begging for him to give you something and oh, how it worked.
His eyes rolled back at the soft sound of your begs and with a hand on your thigh, he pulled you harshly to the edge of the counter. He placed his hand over yours and stroked himself once, twice, to slick his member with your arousal and his own.
His cock was hot to the touch and pointed straight to your waiting entrance. He had made such a mess of you already that when he pressed his tip into your clit, it nearly slid down from how wet you are. You had to bite your lip to keep from whining too loud when he teased you with that repeated motion, wetting his tip more and feeling the way your walls tightened and released for him.
Your back was fully against the mirror now, legs open waiting for him and you were getting impatient. The anticipo had been building up for too long and you brought your hand between your legs. All it took was a soft push down for his cock to sink into your waiting pussy.
His jaw went slack at the sudden tightness of it, he hadn’t expected it to be so snug. His tip barely pushed against the ring of nerves and your facial expression matched his own when he kept going. He held your thighs open, guiding himself in with a deep breath.
“Fucking hell,” he growled lowly, hands trembling as he kept you open and ready to take him in. He looked up at your eyes, completely enamored by the way your features softened with pleasure. Your eyes were glazed over with obvious lust that made him want to just fuck you into oblivion.
“Oh my god,” your hand circled around his neck, pulling him into a sloppy wet kiss that left him biting your lip softly. He groaned against your lips as he picked up the pace of his thrusting, letting his cock drag against your puffy walls so that you could feel every juncture on his length. Your back was arched into him, your chest nearly pressed against his and he snuck his arm around your waist to pull you firmly against him.
“That’s it baby,” Jungkook groaned into your ear, gripping onto the counter with his free hand to fuck you better. You were on the edge of the sink and he bucked his hips up to reach that pleasure spot he had found with his fingers just moments ago and had you moaned loudly into his ear, “You sound pretty, tell me how it feels.”
“Feels good,” you whispered softly against his neck, lips teasing kisses against his skin that made the veins in his arms bulge, “Don’t stop, please.”
“Ngh, Y/n, beg for me,” Jungkook said with a deep voice filled with lust as he fucked you with all his strength. There were too many layers of clothing between you but neither of you seemed to have the time or energy to tear them off. You were both too focused on the pleasure that came from feeling his skin against yours.
Your legs tightened around his waist forcing more of his length into your sopping cunt and his fingers pinched your sides roughly. Without thinking, Jungkook lifted you off the counter. You clung to him as he stepped back and he needed a second to just feel the way your pussy tightened around his hard, thick cock. He wanted to dig into your guts and it was nasty how badly he wanted to have you cum all over him.
It was so unexpected because you always came off as a quiet, reserved person but here you were letting him tear you in two with his fat dick. Jungkook used his strength to push you against the door, letting you drop onto his length before backing his hips up and pistoning them back into you.
“Fuck, I can’t,” your legs tightened around him with your face digging into his neck, “Jungkook, baby, I can’t.”
“You can,” He whispered, pressing you firmly into the wall, “Come on baby, take it.”
“Too much,” You whined, squeezing your eyes shut as he picked up the pace and you searched around for something to hold. Your hand tightened around the doorknob, trying to anchor yourself as he fucked you so good you could barely focus on anything but the pleasure, “I’m so close.”
Jungkook’s hand held you firmly by the waist while the other cupped your ass, groping you harshly as he fucked you onto his length trying to make you cum, “Cum baby, for me. Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you moaned, “Kiss me, please?”
He didn’t hesitate to do so, kissing you with tongue as you clung to him, moaning into his ear and shaking slightly. His knees buckled tightly to hold you up and just as he gave one final thrust to the hilt, he felt your orgasm hit you.
Your walls tightened around him, nearly bringing him to his own orgasm before feeling his tip get flooded with your release. His thighs shook with the pressure of it and he felt his strength leaving him. His abdomen grew tense and he pushed you back to the counter where you let your head fall back with pleasure. You swallowed dryly, panting heavily, “Oh my god.”
You were sweaty, tired and overall unsure what to think but your mind hadn’t cleared yet. All you could focus on was the way Jungkook’s dick throbbed painfully hard when he pulled out of you with a slight pop. You eyed his red member, slightly hypnotized by how pretty it looked and you dropped to your knees wordlessly.
Jungkook watched you slip down on your knees in front of him and it took him a moment to process what was going on. He was hard, so fucking hard he couldn’t think straight and it wasn’t until your hands held his thighs, eyeing his cock hungrily did he realize what you wanted to do. He brought a hand fo attempt and gently brush your hair back, “Y/n, baby, you don’t have t—oh fuck.”
His jaw went slack when your hands circled his base, your lips on his tip and taking him down your throat suddenly. Your nose brushed against the base of his cock, eyes watering as you tried relaxing your throat around him and he nearly stumbled back with surprise, “Y/n.”
You ignored his call of your name, and began to bob your head against his length, your tongue licking along the thick vein you discovered earlier and feeling his hands sink into your hair to guide you, “That’s it, fuck.”
Jungkook looked at his reflection in the mirror, turned on by the way your head was seen bobbing against his length and his body was overheating so much he had to pull his shirt over his toned chest to cool down. It gave him a perfect view of the way his cock disappeared between your lips.
The thought of having you like this hadn’t dawned on him yet but now he couldn’t forget it. The memory would always be ingrained in his mind and although he doesn’t know if he’ll never get a chance to do this again, he couldn’t hold it in any longer.
You gradually began to pick up the pace, using your hands to hold closed fists around his cock to help stroke what didn’t fit in your mouth. You swallowed and bobbed around his dick hungrily, moaning around him and hollowing your cheeks when you would pull your head back until only his tip was between your lips.
As ashamed as he was to admit it, he wasn’t going to be able to hold himself back anymore. Still wanting to warn you, he tried to guide your head off him, “I’m close.”
All it did was push you to take him deeper, stopping when he hit the back of your throat and sucked. Jungkook’s eyes squeezed shut with a loud growl as his orgasm hit him harder than it had in a very long time.
You coughed as his cum sprayed down your throat, thick and creamy with a bittersweet taste that you tried to lick up. You would’ve cleaned him off fully despite his legs shaking but he pulled you off. He pulled his softening dick out of your wet mouth with a huff, panting heavily as he looked down at you.
“Y/n,” his voice was dry, pulling you up to your feet, “That was…”
He couldn’t even get the words out as he watched you lick the corner of your lips and without thinking about it, he pulled you into a heated kiss. You kissed him back with need, moaning against him as his tongue circled around yours hungrily, not caring for the way he tased on you. You only broke away to catch your breath, realization dawning at you as you looked at his messy appearance that surely mirrored yours.
You sat against the counter for a moment, attempting to catch your breath as Jungkook did the same. The two of you were silently readjusting your clothes again and you needed just a moment to yourself. He looked at you, buttoning his jeans back up, “Is everything… okay?”
“Yeah, um, can I just get a minute,” You said with a hoarse voice trying to pretend like you couldn’t see the way his shoulders slumped down. With a short nod of his head, he left the bathroom to let you wash up and for a moment you just looked at yourself in the mirror.
Your reflection looked different, maybe because what you had just done was so out of character and with your best friend’s ex but… why did it feel right?
Jungkook wondered what would happen now, if you expected him to leave the room or wait for you but he wanted to be with you. He didn’t want to walk out and think that because he got something he’s been wanting for years now, he’ll just leave. He knows the others are looking for him, mostly because he’s gotten a few texts now asking where he’s at but he can’t bring it in himself to care. When you opened the bathroom door into the dark room, he looked like a deer caught in headlights, rushing to his feet, “Are you sure everything is fine?”
“Yeah, yes,” you nodded stiffly, “If you want to go out there with everyone else that’s fine. I won’t be upset or anything.”
“Well, I was kind of wondering if you wanted to come back to mine?”
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The first thing you noticed the following morning aside from the sun shining down on your face was the heavy arm across your waist. It made your eyes flutter awake with a small huff leaving your lips as you attempted to stretch your limbs but it tightened around you, securing you closer to Jungkook’s naked chest.
“Morning,” he mumbled sleepily into your hair as he hugged you closer.
“What time is it?” You asked awkwardly, trying to sit up making his arm slide to your hips instead. You reached for your cell phone, eyes widening by the number of text messages.
miyoung: bye I was drunkkkkkk 😳
miyoung: did I 🤮 at all?
miyoung: r u alive
miyoung: helloooooooo
A quiet sigh escaped your lips as you read it over. Either she couldn’t remember how upset she was in the car or she’s going to pretend like nothing at all happened.
God, what did you do?
“Y/n,” Jungkook grumbled tiredly, “Lay back down.”
“I should go,” You bit your lip nervously. If Miyoung forgot what happened last night then maybe she forgot about Jungkook asking you and won’t know you… slept with him. Fuck, were you a bad friend?
He dated your best friend and dumped her out of the blue making it obvious he wanted nothing to do with her and here you are letting him fuck you in the bathroom. What did that make you? You had a poor lapse of judgment last night, you acted out of character and hadn’t been behaving like yourself at all.
“Why?” He sat up suddenly, “You don’t work today, right? Why don’t we go grab breakfast—well, brunch.”
You looked down at him, unable to stop yourself from taking in his appearance. He had bed hair, no shirt on and his blanket draped over his waist. He failed to take off his jewelry last night so he still wears silver chain necklaces around his neck and leather bracelets. You couldn’t possibly spend time with him still. It wasn’t right, right?
Just as you were ready to give him your answer, your phone began to vibrate with an incoming call. You looked down at the screen and a picture of you and Miyoung displayed on the screen that had Jungkook huffing quietly and laying back down, close to giving up.
In all honesty, you weren’t in the mood to talk to her. It still bothered you by how harsh she was last night but there’s a chance she doesn’t even remember and… “Hello?”
“Tell me why I have a raging headache when I barely drank last night?” Miyoung said immediately once the call went through, “It’s your fault y’know for upsetting me.”
You couldn’t see her but she was walking on a treadmill in her apartment acting like everything was completely normal. Jungkook didn’t care for your conversation either but he was focused on the way you looked first thing in the morning.
You looked cute, undeniably cute with circles under your eyes and a disheveled appearance. You wore an oversized shirt of his so you wouldn’t have to sleep in such uncomfortable clothes and he loved it. You looked good in his clothes.
Without thinking, he sat up and pressed his lips to yours in a short and surprising kiss. You flinched back with confusion, nearly dropping your phone in the process but he backed away with a small smile. You tried to glare at him but you couldn’t stop from smiling and it annoyed you when he placed a gentle kiss against your neck that made you feel flustered. You almost forgot you were on the phone when he leaned in for a kiss again and one you would surely grant.
“But I forgive you,” Miyoung said suddenly.
“What?”
“I forgive you, I’m over it,” Miyoung said with a shrug you couldn’t see, “Our friendship means more to me than Jungkook and I know you would never do anything that you know would upset me so… it’s whatever. In the past.”
“Wait,” You held up a hand to Jungkook as you said it to the both of them, “When did I apologize?”
He stopped immediately, looking at you with concern as Miyoung went on, “I mean, we both know you were going to. I’m just letting you know it’s alright.”
“No, Miyoung, I wasn’t going to,” you couldn’t help but scoff, “I haven’t done anything wrong.”
Technically.
Jungkook raised his brows, surprised by your tone and a little turned on? Was that okay to say?
“I didn’t mean it like that, but you know… you were flirting with the guy who dumped me,” Miyoung said, “It’s fine, whatever, you want to flirt with Jungkook, I don’t care anymore I just thought I meant more to you as a friend.”
You didn’t say anything for a moment as you looked down at Jungkook who couldn’t seem to go more than a minute without attention. He had your free hand in his measuring your size difference and you released a sigh, “You know what, I’m kind of busy right now so I’ll call you later.”
Miyoung wasn’t able to get a word in before you ended the call, turning your attention to Jungkook, “You’re getting me in trouble, sir.”
“I’m terribly sorry,” he said, biting back a grin, “How should I make it up to you? Brunch?”
“You’re still thinking about that?” You asked with a slight laugh.
It was strange trying not to let your best friend’s feelings bring you down too.
“I’m hungry,” Jungkook said, hand on his toned stomach for detail.
“I don’t have clothes or, I don’t know, a toothbrush,” you couldn’t help but sound sarcastic, falling back on the bed with an arm on his chest.
“Don’t worry, I got you.”
In the end you caved to his incessant begging and found yourself dressed as casual as ever with an oversized tee and the skirt you wore last night clashing horribly. The only thing that had you regretting it was what stood [parked] in front of you.
“You’re not serious, are you?” You asked as you watched him walk up to you with a helmet in his hands, “I can’t get on that.”
“You can,” Jungkook said, putting it over your head, “I’m a very safe driver.”
“What about your car?” You asked nervously as he buckled[?] you into the head gear, “Can’t we just go in that.”
“We can but that won’t impress you,” Jungkook snorted a laugh as he got his own helmet on, “Come on Y/n, I won’t kill you, don’t worry.”
With a small sigh you nodded, letting him lead you to the bike and he swung a leg over to straddle it and patted the seat right behind him. Frankly, you didn’t care that you were in a skirt. You know that there’s an appropriate way for people in skirts to straddle something but you cared more about living so you straddled it the way he did. Jungkook couldn’t help but smile as he felt the softer touch of your hands on his waist and without saying a word, he pulled you into him suddenly. Your chest was pressed to his back and your arms snug around his waist.
“Atta girl, no time to be shy now,” he chuckled, feeling you smack his arm playfully.
If he were being honest, he liked this side of you. He’s never seen it before and it was breathtaking and enjoyable. Before when you were just classmates you were still stand offish from him and the only night he got you to open up was the first time he ran into you and met Miyoung. It was short lived and once he dated her, he rarely got to see you alone.
When he got back, you would barely even look at him yet whatever spurred last night’s events seemed to open up new possibilities for you two. You haven’t talked about what happened but he’s expecting it almost excitedly.
Jungkook’s hand ran up your thighs, securing you to him as he started up the motorcycle, feeling the smoothness of your leg and teasing the end of your skirt with a small tug, “Ready?”
He felt you squeeze harder before taking off.
The cafe was small and filled with warmth making this feel oddly close to a date… which is probably because it was? You’re still not sure how to take it.
“Did I really get you in trouble?” Jungkook asked as he cut his breakfast sandwich in half before doing the same with yours. When you looked at him he looked concerned by the notion. You didn’t have to ask to know what he was referring to and you couldn’t help but sigh, “Not really, sorry, it was more my fault than any—“
“Why though?” Jungkook cut you off, “Why is it always your fault? You can’t talk to me now?”
“You know we didn’t just talk,” you bit your lip nervously. You couldn’t meet his gaze and he didn’t like that.
He huffed in annoyance, “But she doesn’t know, or does she? I mean, what does it matter?”
“You dated. She’s my best friend and it bothers her, I already feel guilty for what happened last night—not that I regret it, don’t get me wrong but… well, it’s just confusing and it upsets her,” You rambled, still defending Miyoung even when she was slowly getting under your skin.
“We dated so long ago, it was such a short fling,” Jungkook said with a laugh as he went back to eating, “And she dumped me so why does it matter if you and I get together?”
“I don’t know, I just… she’s my best frie—wait, what did you say?” You met his stare suddenly making him set down his coffee cup to answer.
“She dumped me so why can’t you and I…” he stopped. Did you mean for him to repeat the part about being with you? Did you want him to say it again, maybe use the right words this time?
Why is he saying Miyoung dumped him? You remember the day exactly.
Miyoung called you while you were studying in the library late one night, not fully in tears but clearly under duress and she couldn’t stop herself from letting her emotions get to her. She went on to tell you how Jungkook dumped her suddenly over a phone call because he wasn’t interested anymore and was just using her or something.
You remember because you left the library to go comfort her and you almost ran into him on campus and he wouldn’t even look you in the eye…
He dumped her because he got bored, that’s why she asked you to stop talking to him. He was just like every other guy according to her and you owed her the promise to avoid him. It was you who introduced them anyway and…
Why is it that any guy you’ve ever thought you’ve liked would fall for her instead, only to dump her and in return make her ask you to not speak to them again?
Jungkook wasn’t the first so when she asked you to avoid him, it bothered you a little but you soon got over it and did as told.
You always do as told without questioning it.
“You broke up with her.”
He chuckled, shaking his head no, “I was going to but she beat me to it. I don’t know how honest you want me to be this early in the day.”
“Tell me,” you urged him on.
“I wanted to break up with her but I had this sick feeling that I wasn’t going to be able to talk to you as much anymore or it would be awkward so I stuck it out,” Jungkook said it with a shrug, “But then she dumped me and suddenly you won’t even look at me so it was worse for me, I guess.”
Your eyebrows stitched together with confusion, “What are you saying? Why did you care if I talked to you or not? You went for Miyoung the second you met her—“
“That’s not true, actually,” Jungkook confessed, deciding if you wanted honesty he would give it even if it embarrassed him, “I wanted you.”
“And when I met her, I was obviously there at the bar trying to talk to you but she kept butting in and next thing I know, you were off talking to Yoongi and ignoring me,” Jungkook went on, “To be honest, I was kind of insecure back then, like really insecure and I was trying to get you to notice me but everytime someone would cu—“
“Jungkook, stop, I just… no, you did not like me, you dated Miyoung,” You cut him off, fidgeting in your seat anxiously, “It’s fine, it’s in the past.”
“No it’s not fine and I asked how honest you wanted me to be and you told me to tell you so I’m going to,” Jungkook said more seriously, “I was insecure, alright? I had just moved to the city and I shared class with this pretty, incredibly smart girl who would barely give me any time of day. Honestly it was kind of depressing, I was kinda depressed at the time and I needed a boost to talk to you so I asked Miyoung and… she said you were into someone else so I was pretty bummed out. Then she’s kind of just everywhere and she actually tries to talk to me so when she asks me out, I say yes but I realize I still have to see you.”
“And I liked being around you even though I probably shouldn’t have because technically I was dating her at this point and I realized that I practically screwed up whatever chance I might have had with you,” Jungkook couldn’t stop himself anymore. He was saying whatever was on his mind, barely giving you time to process any of it before continuing, “Yes, I know it’s fucked up because whenever I thought it might work and I might catch real feelings for her, you would came around and they just went out the window. So it was getting harder and harder to keep pretending and I wanted to break up with her but I was worried you wouldn’t talk to me anymore.”
“She beat me to it and dumped me because she was bored and I was relieved, honestly, but then I see you on campus and you can’t even look at me anymore,” Jungkook cleared his throat, “Then life went on, I moved away, moved back, ran into you again and…”
“And what?” You asked breathlessly, lips dry and completely frozen in your seat.
He looked at you warmly, “I found you, everything just came back and I knew I didn’t want to lose you a second time. I wanted to ask you out the first night at the bar but you didn’t even want to talk to me so I tried again last night and you were so ready to blow me off when Miyoung came along. I don’t know what made you come back to the party and I don’t want you thinking I’m some sleazy guy who acts like that with just anyone. I was just… it was unexpected and I had been waiting years for something to happen between us.”
Suddenly, this didn’t feel like an easy brunch inside a warm and cozy cafe anymore. In all honesty, it felt a little suffocating now and you don’t know how to explain it, but you didn’t want to be here. So much has just been thrown at you and you don’t think you can handle it all.
What did he mean that he liked you first?
Why had Miyoung told him you were into someone else? You learned to stop sharing who you liked with her so long ago and had never once told her anything like that in school. Why couldn’t she just have asked you? Why did she ask him out after he made it known he wanted you?
You don’t care that he said yes, that really was in the past for you. Now you’re more focused on why someone who was supposed to be your best friend would act so sneaky? What did she gain from it?
Why did she lie and say he dumped her? Was it just so she can paint him as a villain and make you not want to talk to him anymore? Why would she do that?
“Y/n?” He called your name waiting for you to respond to him but you just sat there stunned, “I’m sorry, I know I was a piece of shit for dating her when I wanted you bu—Y/n.”
Your mind is filled with questions that you couldn’t answer and it was overwhelming. The cafe felt suddenly overwhelming and you just had to get out of there, so you did.
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“Earth to Y/n, I don’t know how long you plan on ignoring the world but I know you’re not too busy with work to ignore your friends.”
Tacky, Taehyung was so very tacky leaving a concerning voicemail. Who left voicemails these days?
And he was being dramatic, he’s acting like you’ve fallen off the face of the Earth but that’s not true. You’ve just been holed up at either the office or your home for the past week, avoiding any call or text from anyone so you could be alone with your thoughts.
Alright it’s been over a week, almost two and maybe it is a little concerning but you’re telling yourself you’re just being dramatic.
“Y/n you better open the door before I break it down,” Taehyung’s muffled voice boomed from the other side of your front door and you begrudgingly went to let him in.
“Relax, I’m not dead,” You muttered under your breath as you let him in.
“Damn near!” Taehyung said loudly as he let himself through the door, “What is up with you? You haven’t responded to any text I was beginning to get worried.”
“Sorry,” you mumbled as you flopped down onto your couch, “I’ve just been tired.”
“Too tired to answer the phone?” Taehyung asked sitting down next to you, “Miyoung, I get. Ignore her all you want but me? What did I ever do to you? What’s up with you? I haven’t talked to you since the party. Did something happen?”
With a small sigh, you let your head rest against the back of the couch, “I slept with Jungkook.”
“Really?” Taehyung seemed genuinely surprised, “So fallout with Miyoung I’m assuming? Look, I personally don’t get why you try to make her happy but she’ll get over it. Did you like it? Like him?”
“Yes, I don’t know, I’m confused, I don’t know what to believe anymore,” you admitted, “And I feel so dumb because this shouldn’t be a big deal.”
“Alright well I need you to rewind and explain things better so my pea brain can handle it,” Taehyung made himself comfortable, “You’ve gone Ghost for over a week, I want to know why. Was it because of Jungkook? Miyoung? If you think sleeping with him makes you a bad friend the—“
“She’s a liar,” you cut in, “And it shouldn’t bother me so much because she’s my best friend but that’s why it bothers me, Tae. I’ve known her for so long, and I’ve always tried to be a good friend to her but it was never enough. So I tried harder and harder because who else would be there for me like her but… now that I’m looking back on it, I don’t think she’s ever cared about me as much as I care about her and it sucks, honestly.”
Taehyung wanted to tell you so many people cared about you but he wanted you to say whatever you needed to say first.
“You know what Jungkook said? He said Miyoung knew he apparently liked me before and still asked him out—and lied about how I felt about him,” You said, “And okay, why would I fight over a guy with my best friend but now that I’m thinking about it… it’s fucked up right? She lied that he dumped her and begged me to avoid him. You saw how she acted the other night just because he talked to me. What was that about?”
You weren’t going to go into full detail about the past because you owed Jungkook enough to not tell Taehyung about everything he said but he needed context.
“And I know it’s in the past so I should just move on but I can’t,” You admitted, “I still like him but if I… I get with him Miyoung would never let me forget that she dated him first, even if he liked me. It’s just all so confusing and overwhelming and it sucks that I’m letting it get to me like this but… it’s not fair.”
Once again, Taehyung didn’t say anything but he could tell you were feeling emotional by the way your voice began to shake.
“I like him, and not in the way I liked him before but I like this new him too, and it’s not fair that even if she lied or even if she snaps at me about shit that doesn’t matter, I will still feel guilty,” You finished.
“Y/n,” Taehyung cleared his throat, “Obviously I don’t know everything that happened back then but… I think that if you feel for him what he feels for you, it shouldn’t matter what she says. And honestly, I just… I wish you could see that there are so many people who care about you so much and you don’t have to put up with being belittled by someone who is supposed to be your best friend just because you have history. It doesn’t matter if it’s in the past, if it’s upsetting you now then clearly it still matters so don’t try to downplay your emotions.”
“But she’s my best friend,” your lip quivered.
“Then what am I?” He forced his lip to quiver as well.
“You’re my best friend too,” you sniffled.
Taehyung mimicked your expression, “Then as your best friend, I’m telling you to stop trying to make excuses for people who don’t treat you right—and go fix it with this guy.”
“Bu—“
“Y/n, I know you,” Taehyung sighed, “And I know that you’re not going to do anything if you think it upsets her but she doesn’t deserve a friend like you. You deserve to go be with whoever you want. I don’t care about what she says and at this point neither should you. I know that right now it’s confusing and you’re overwhelmed but if you’ve been ignoring me you’ve been ignoring him—I hope because if it’s just me that’s cold—and if the girl I had feelings for ghosted me… I’d be hurt.”
Jungkook was not hurt. He was… y'know, perfectly fine and that’s what he kept telling himself. It’s not like you made any real sign of feeling something for him too after hooking up and maybe that had just been a casual, one time thing. He can handle that, he’s grown.
Sure, he sort of spilled his damn heart out to you just for you to storm off on him and not reach out to him in days but he’s not bothered by it at all. That’s why when his two closest friends called Saturday night asking him to go clubbing… he said yes.
It was a chance to possibly let it go, forget it even, but it wasn’t easy. He was aware that he was possibly reading too into what happened the other night but could you blame him? You’re suddenly all about him and spend the night at his place where you wake up in his arms before going out to eat. It was like the perfect set up for a what if yet it went all wrong. Clearly it was his fault for being hopeful.
“So who else did you say is meeting us here?” Jungkook asked Hoseok for confirmation as he passed him a drink. The music played loudly in his eardrums that it was borderline painful and he wanted to leave more than anything but there was that stupid what if in his head.
“Jimin’s joining later on and so is Namjoon and his girl,” Hoseok said as he made sure everyone else had what they ordered, “Oh, and Y/n too, I think.”
“Y/n?” Jungkook tried clarifying. Hoseok smiled, “I know, it’s weird, Y/n seriously rarely comes out but all of a sudden she’s starting to more. I mean, lately she has, probably since around the time you got back?”
Jungkook let his friend go off to do whatever he wanted while he stood there seemingly frozen. Tonight would be the first time in days that he sees you—talks to you—and he’s not sure how to handle it. There’s nothing he can do about it either because he hasn’t confided in anyone yet but it’s painfully obvious that he’s waiting for you.
Yoongi noticed first, like he usually did, and tried talking to him, “What’s up with you? You’ve been antsy since the party, will you finally tell me where you ran off to?”
“Yeah man, don’t think we didn’t notice when you disappeared,” Jin said with a slight wink, “We just want to know with who.”
“Y/n.”
He could see you from the corner of his eye when you joined them at a table they had found. You came with Jimin by your side and a shy smile on your face. He assumed it was Hoseok who had screamed your name considering how he hogged your attention with a huge grin and Jungkook felt nervous all of a sudden.
As embarrassing as it was, Jungkook had nearly forgotten what he was asked until he looked back at Yoongi and Jin who looked at him expectantly. A nervous laugh escaped his lips as he shrugged, “Did you guys miss me too much?”
“Sneaky guy, don’t change the subject,” Jin laughed before letting Jungkook shift his attention back to you, making it painfully obvious where he was focused.
You felt a little nervous to be out tonight but after what you had talked about with Taehyung, you knew he was right. You acted strange with Jungkook after he opened up his side of things to you and it was plain wrong. Part of you isn’t even sure if he’s actually interested or not since he didn’t reach out to you this week and it made you wonder if he was really upset.
And if he was, would that mean that he didn’t want to speak to you?
“I need a drink,” you mumbled to yourself more than to the others but it made a good excuse to at least try. You looked at Jungkook for the first time since you got there and cleared your throat to awkwardly ask, “Jungkook, do you mind going with me?”
“Get me another, will ya?” Yoongi asked with a sudden wink that made Jungkook do a double take. Was he winking over the drink or him leaving with you?
He nodded his head in response and without question followed you to the bar once more. The bar was packed from all sides and Jungkook had to fight his way to the counter working as a barrier from people pushing at you. If he were to be honest, he wanted to skip the questions and get close to you again but he had to stay strong. He needed answers, right?
“Are we good?” Was the only thing he could think to ask.
You looked at him warmly, sitting down on the stool at the counter with him standing close to you, his hand itching to reach for you. Your lip caught between your teeth as you nodded, “Are we?”
For some reason he didn’t expect to be asked that back. It made him wonder if he thought you were. It was undeniably embarrassing to have you walk out on him like that after he thought it had been going good but did that mean he was truly upset with you?
“Yeah,” he nodded stiffly, blinking nervously and looking to the bartender who noticed them a while ago but had to attend to earlier customers first, “But uh, I guess I am just a little confused by it all. Did I do something to upset you? Was it what I said?”
“No, no, I’m sorry, it wasn’t you,” You blurted out, “It was me, I wasn’t thinking straight and I feel really bad about leaving like that.”
“Then why didn’t you just call or even text me?” Jungkook asked honestly, “I… I think that’s what bothered me the most.”
You looked down at your hands, “I'm sorry. I didn’t talk to anyone, seriously, and I did think about reaching out to you but I don’t know, I’m really bad at explaining things.”
“Well can you try? I know it was sudden but I thought it had been going good,” Jungkook said and the longer he tried getting to the bottom of this, the more annoyed he felt that you couldn’t just say it, “I think I’ve made it clear now how I feel about you and all I’m asking is for you to do the same.”
“I—yes,” you stumbled over your words, “I mean, I’m trying to be clear now but I’m doing a shit job at it. I did have a good time with you but it was honestly, really out of character for me to yknow… and then the whole Miyoung thing and I’m sorry but it was just a lot all at once. It’s definitely not fair to you that I acted that way, but I do have feelings for you.”
He let out a sigh, feeling unsure how to take it and stuck between wanting to smile in relief and wanting to be upset. You didn’t text him, nothing. How is that fair? He wanted to reach out to you but after the way you left he thought he would just make it worse if he kept bothering you. The bartender finally got to you two and he let you speak first as he tried gathering his thoughts a little more.
“But what does this mean?” Jungkook asked now, “I want you and you want me, right? So, what does this mean Y/n because right now I’m still confused by it all. If it’s because of Miyoung then—“
“No, it’s not, honestly,” You said, reaching for him, pinching the bottom of his shirt between your fingers to pull him toward you, “I don't care what she thinks anymore, I like you and I should have just said that from the beginning.”
The pull was harsh and had him looking down with his lips slightly parted in surprise, “Y/n, you’re not being fair.”
You knew it. You knew you probably ruined your chance now and coming to see him had just been a waste. You nearly let go of him when he continued, “You can’t ignore me and walk out on me and then just tell me you want me too, expecting everything to be fine.”
He had to be tough. He can’t just let it go even though you’re saying everything he wants to hear.
“You’re right, I’m sorry,” you said with a slight frown, “I can leave if you want me to.”
“Ugh,” he groaned, unable to help himself anymore as he closed the distance between you two. He circled an arm around you and pulled you into a hug, “Why would I want you to leave when I’ve been waiting for you to get here?”
“What?” You asked, hands finding his waist as he held you, “I thought you were mad.”
“I was,” Jungkook said, “So you don’t know how annoyed I am with myself right now. All it takes is for you to sweet talk me a bit and give me those eyes of yours for me to fold, that’s embarrassing.”
“Jungkook,” you said, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have walked out like that. I should have texted you and if you want to be mad, I get it. If you want to think it over an—“
“And what if I don’t?” He asked looking down at your pouty lips and glossy eyes, “What if I just want to let it go and be with you without any more problems? Can I do that?”
His tone was surprisingly firm and you couldn’t do anything but nod, “Okay.”
It didn’t change the fact that you still felt bad because it seemed like you were being let off the hook easily but what else could you do? Jungkook really did seem ready to move past it and that’s why you came here in the first place. You just hadn’t expected it to be so easy and it made you feel bad.
When your drinks were ready, you opened up a tab despite his protests to just put it on his and the two of you got back to the group like nothing had happened. There was still a lot that needed to be talked about before you told anyone about what happened but it’s not like they were all oblivious.
Jimin, for instance, had been keeping an eye on you two at the bar since you left and had seen the majority of your conversation but he didn’t bring it up. Instead he watched silently for your little glances in each other’s direction and shy smiles. It was obvious to Yoongi too that Jungkook was in a much better mood now than earlier and it wasn’t hard for him to figure out why.
Perhaps for the same reason you had suddenly started joining them more often, being more comfortable too.
It had been a slow start for the two of you after the night at the club. Neither one of you seemed to want to rush into things but at times there was a strong pull. Tonight was going to be your first official date but you were keeping that information to your friends until you figure out if this works or not.
Jungkook picked you up from your apartment and drove to a nice restaurant where the two of you sat for dinner. He was very attentive to you, making sure your glass was always full and all your needs met and it was a surprisingly good feeling to be taken care of this way. You’ve dated in the past but you can’t say you’ve always chosen the right ones. You had a tendency to lean toward the ones who were overly forward with you because in your mind there was no doubt they liked you.
At first it would be nice but then you would realize that it was more of a conquering feeling to them than actually wanting to be with you and you would be left heartbroken. That’s part of why you rarely put yourself out there.
Jungkook is different though, he always has been. When you first met him he was forward but aloof. You never expected him to actually like you because you couldn’t see the signs clearly and the way things turned out it just never worked. Now that he’s been back he’s almost like an entirely different person in the sense that he’s ready to go for what he wants and it’s sort of admirable.
If you had been able to do that back then maybe you would have had him sooner but there was no point in dwelling in the past. He was here now and so were you. Honestly, knowing that there's something that’s been brewing between you two for a long time made it easier to feel confident around him.
“Why are you so pretty?” Jungkook couldn’t help but ask even if his mouth was full. He was trying not to smile too as he said that.
“Oh my god,” You felt your face heat up, tempted to hide behind your hand. It took you a moment to think of a response and it was surprising for the both of you to hear you say, “Why are you?”
Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly in hopes of not seeming too affected by your words. It didn’t work and he broke out into a grin, “I wasn’t expecting that.”
Dinner was filled with small flirting here and there. It’s crazy how well you and him seemed to get along when you stopped worry about other things. He made you smile, really smile and you made him feel giddy whenever he talked to you. He wanted to spend his night with you and nobody else.
“Are we going to meet with everyone else after this?” You asked as he pulled your chair out for you and you got up from the table. After some back and forth arguing, he eventually took care of the bill despite your protests and the night felt near its finish much to your disappointment.
It was the weekend and you’ve been trying to go out with your friends more and they had asked to meet up later—but both you and Jungkook had to tell them maybe.
“Do we have to?” He asked, taking your bag in one hand and holding yours with the other, “You think they’ll get a little suspicious if we’re both gone?”
You walked with him across the restaurant toward the entrance. You weren’t paying much attention to the people you passed, “I’m sure they know.”
Your response surprised him a bit and he couldn’t help but ask, “Really? Has it been that obvious?”
“Yeah, Jimin called me out on it the other night,” you shrugged, reaching for your bag to look for chapstick while he led you to the front. You couldn’t meet his eyes because you sensed where this was going.
“What’d he say?” Jungkook asked slowing his pace for you.
You blinked nervously, distracting yourself with your lipbalm as you tried sounding casual, “He asked why we were being so sneaky at the bar.”
Jungkook’s eyes widened slightly, opening the door for you as he said, “Damn, what did you say?”
“I said because we’re together.”
You tried being slick about it and slide past him without much attention but it was useless. He stood in front of you with a smile on his face, “Oh, we are? I don’t remember you clarifying that. Can you remind me when you asked me to be your man?”
“Oh god, don’t act like that,” you whined shyly.
“I’m sorry baby, I gotta hear you say it with your own words. What’d you tell him?” Jungkook blocked your path, hands finding your waist and keeping you from running. He liked making you flustered and you had no idea how you left him with a racing heart.
You pouted, looking at him seriously, “Jungkook.”
The two of you stood outside the restaurant looking like a playful couple that maybe had one too many drinks but it was all Jungkook’s fault. He wouldn’t let it go to rest and even had the nerve to smirk as he teasingly said, “That’s not how you say ‘Boyfriend’.”
“You’re ridiculous, we talked about this,” you said, focused on his chest to hide your embarrassment.
Jungkook just grinned mischievously, “What did you tell him?”
“I said you were my boyfriend,” you mumbled into his chest.
“Your what?” He asked trying to step back and get a good look at your face, “Come on baby, don’t get shy on me now.”
You whined, “Jung—“
“Your what?” He was laughing now, not caring for whoever might pass them and stare because he felt good. Too good to be affected by a stranger’s judgement.
“My boyfriend,” you sighed with embarrassment, “You heard me the first time, goof.”
“That’s what I thought, alright, you ready to go?” He asked with a chuckled as he took your hand in his ready to walk with you to the car.
“Y/n?”
You both stopped in your step, wondering if it really was your name you had heard. You looked back toward the rest, eyes threatening to widen with surprise as you looked at the person who stood at the entrance. She was with a group of people all headed inside but when she saw you, she stopped.
“Miyoung, hey,” You cleared your throat awkwardly, your demeanor changing completely.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” She asked as her eyes trailed behind you where Jungkook was looking at you with worry and confusion. He wanted to make sure everything would be alright, knowing how Miyoung would react. He didn’t want your good night to be ruined over something petty.
“What do you mean? I’m uh, I was just having dinner,” you said stiffly, looking back at Jungkook which proved to be a mistake because it seemed to solidify his presence to her.
“With jungkook?” She asked with a snappy tone. Miyoung shooed away her friends, telling them to go in without her as she approached you.
“Yeah.”
“Why?” Her brow arched with amusement, clearly ticked off and in disbelief by what she saw before her. Like usual, the situation seemed much worse than it really was.
It was time for you to be up front. What’s the point in putting yourself out there and letting yourself open up to him if you wouldn’t have the courage to make it known? You swallowed dryly, “Because we’re… dating.”
Jungkook had stepped back from the situation, not wanting to worsen it so he stood off by a light post not too far for a smoke break. He tried distracting himself with lighting his cigarette but he couldn’t help but freeze up when you said that. It brought a shy smile to his face as he waited for you to finish.
“No, you’re not,” Miyoung scoffed looking back at Jungkook as if betrayed by him too. You blinked with confusion, what did she mean you’re not? Did she expect you to be joking or back down? “We are.”
Miyoung stood in front of you now, slightly taller, “Y/n, you’ve been ignoring me for weeks and now you’re saying you’re dating my ex boyfriend? What kind of friend are you?”
This time it was you who scoffed lightly, looking away from her to try and process what you would say but you had spent too much time already trying to think it over, “The thing is, um, I’ve been kind of wondering the same about you.”
“Me?” She looked down at you genuinely taken back, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat and tried to gather the courage to just say it. You could feel Jungkook around, listening but giving you space and it was like a push start for you to say what was really on your mind, “I’m just tired of feeling like I’m the only one who puts effort into being friends and I don’t see the point in always fighting. We’re not together, we don’t have to be friends if it always has to be some sort of argument. It’s getting tiring at this point and I think maybe it’s best we just distance ourselves from each other.”
“You’re kidding, right? I’m like the only person who really cares about you, Y/n. Don’t act stupid.”
Although that made Jungkook want to intervene and tell her how very wrong she was, he didn’t. He didn’t want to speak for you. He knew you could speak for yourself and he should let you, even if he was itching to cut in.
“No, I don’t think you are. I know you think you are so you always tell me you are, but you’re not. People like me for me and not just because I’m friends with you,” you said coldly and your tone was definitive it left her speechless. It had to be one of the first times you were ever remotely close to snappy with her and she didn’t expect it.
“I know it’s hard for you to think of me as my own person but I don’t have to do what you want,” You said, “And I think you only boss me around and act sneaky behind my back because you’re threatened by me.”
She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. What you said left her rendered quiet. You waited too, waited to see if she would tell you to stand down but she didn’t and you didn’t give her time too, “ But I think I should go, I don’t want to bother your dinner any longer—and uh, maybe we just shouldn’t contact each other anymore.”
Jungkook had forgotten about his smoke break, jaw nearly to the floor at how confident you sounded. It was obvious you had never spoken to Miyoung that way but she couldn’t even deny what you said. You did it so casually and like you couldn’t care less which made you seem mature compared to Miyoung’s tantrums.
“Why was that kind of hot?” Jungkook asked as you finally reached him under the light post. Miyoung had stormed off with an evil glare that he ignored telling you how “You’re done”.
He looked down at you with hazed eyes, amazed and enamored. You scrunch your face curiously, “What was?”
“You, right now,” He chuckled, reaching for your hand in his, “Kind of scary too. Remind me not to get on your bad side.”
“You’re exaggerating,” you tried to laugh it off, “I wasn’t mean, was I?”
It was so dumb of you to still be worried about it but you couldn’t help it.
“No, you were calm and casual but that was so scary,” Jungkook gasped dramatically, “Because I know you were mad at her—… it was mean but only a little and so very very hot, and you’re doing all this in that dress…”
Without meaning to be, Jungkook was sort of like your hype man. You were worried about being too harsh, you still are, but he made you feel better about it. Part of you will never not feel in the wrong for being with Jungkook but you’ve gotten the rest off your chest and it felt good. Maybe you were a bit mean or maybe you weren’t, you could never be entirely sure but Jungkook seemed to be on your side no matter what.
“You like my dress?” You asked him with a teasing smile as he held the car door open for you.
“I really do,” he played with his lip ring, looking down at you.
“Then take it off me.”
“Oh fuck,” Jungkook whispered to himself as he looked around the parking lot, “Here?”
You broke out into a laugh as you sat down. Your words got to him easier than you thought and he sighed, “You can’t say that shit to me, Y/n. I’ll actually do it.”
“Let’s go back to my place and see if you can keep your word then,” you told him, watching him close the door with a tense jaw just thinking about it.
You can’t do this to him. You can’t be shy and cute one second and then act like that. You can’t. That’s not fair to him. How is he supposed to not be affected when you say things that get his heart racing while looking so cute? Was this what it would be like dating you? Just constantly caught by surprise?
He did like the way you stood up for yourself. He liked that you spoke your mind more freely than before and he takes joy in hearing you flirt back. In the beginning it felt like he was the one always trying to get you to talk to him or notice him and now you’re saying things that make his head dizzy.
“You’re gonna be the death of me, yknow?” Jungkook asked after the painfully long car ride back to your apartment. He was removing his coat as you sat on the edge of your bed to undo your shoes.
You let out an amused laugh, “What do you mean?”
“I mean… you act all shy and innocent and then you say shit that…” Jungkook let out a groan, “I can’t explain it, you just drive me crazy.”
“In a good way or bad way?” You asked, following him with your eyes as he closed the space between you two until he was at the end of the bed standing in front of you.
“A good way,” he said softly, “I’m finding more sides of you I’ve never seen.”
“And you like it?” You asked shyly, feeling his hands curl around your jaw.
“I do, a lot,” he confessed brushing his lips against yours, “I don't know what I would’ve done if I lost my chance with you again.”
::.
NO PART TWO
oml yall this took me forever to come up with 😭 I went through at least six other ideas before deciding on this one and I can’t tell how happy I am with it yet but I tried my hardest not the disappoint 🥹 I miss being more active and taking to you all but life has been so busy lately
please let me know how you feel and I promise I’ll try to be more active 🫶🏽
permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @skzthinker @unnatae @beautywine @lilliankoo @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @whoa-jo @marvelbun @sunnikthv @kochycooky @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @dream-cvtcher @jksjx @kissyfacekoo @joyjunk @caro134340lina @hyunjinswifeee @oldermenluverrr @caro134340lina @olivialeesstuff [taglist is too long so I’ll have to make two versions of it]
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adelliet · 2 months ago
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Wolverine x f!reader
MIND READER
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Summary: Your parents sent you to your older sister Jean Grey to spend more time with her. However, you had no idea that one of her colleagues would also want to get to know you, but in a much deeper way.
Warnings: MDNI 18+, strong language, age gap, fingering, oral (f and m receiving), little bit of choking, unprotected sex (p i v), loss of virginity, cum play, aftercare, kinda fluff
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“C'mon sis, don't look so grumpy” Jean said to you as you make your way to the X-men Mansion. You sigh and roll your eyes with arms firmly tangled on your chest.
“It's gonna be fun…my friend's are nice” she keep tried to ease the situation, that you're going to stay in this school for gifted for a week. It was your divorced parents stupid command, to get closer to your sister. You would rather eat a moldy banana with mayonnaise, but unfortunately, you had no other choice. Not even the banana.
When you walk in, your eyes widened as you saw the enormous place from the inside. From the outside, it looked really boring and old, so you were pretty surprised that it looked really fancy. “You're living in this?” you asked Jean and she nodded with a giggle afterwards. “Trust me, this is just the beginning” she said and you follow her through the halls.
You tried to avoid all the students passing by and you immidiately understood why it's called school for gifted. All of them were mutants. You didn't have to read everyone's minds to realize that, some of them were clearly obvious, because of their unusual physical form. Some of them looked pretty normal, but they were giving you a weird energy, not the typical one from a normal human.
“So, act nice and don't be mean 'kay?” Jean stopped at the last door on the end of the hall. You nodded annoyingly and put a fake smile, as soon as she opens the door and walked in. “Hey guys!” you peeked behind Jean and quickly scan all of the people that were in the room.
“So as I promised, I'm here to introduce my little siser!” She stepped aside to reveal you, making you anxious at all the eyes being glued to your face. You waved at them and suck your lips into a thin akward line. “So that's her!” a pretty tall man with a weird glasses on his eyes walked towards you, his hand in front of you. You claim his head and shake it, reading his mind without permission. *She's really just like her sister, beautiful* you made a disgusted face, trying to keep smilling.
“Hey, I'm Jean's boyfriend-“ “Scott Summers” you cut him off and finishing his sentence, leaving him speechless. Suddenly, you felt a painful ringing in your ears that Jean gave you as a warning. You promised her you wouldn't read these people's minds, but you can't help it, it's your natural instinct.
“How did you-“ “Don't worry about that” you cut him off, again, and quickly put a convincing smile. The next person who shake your hand was a blonde pretty girl, that looked really sweet. However, when you tried to read her mind, there was no thoughts about you, but about herself. She wasn't happy with herself, with her powers. You started feeling bad for her.
“Mystique” she smilled, even tho you knew it was fake. You wish you could help her, but this wasn't the best time and place to do that. Maybe another time. “Hey kid” a blue furry beast was approaching you and you startled by his deep voice and visage. “H-hey” you carefully grabbed his hand, which looked like a lego peace in his palm. “Hank McCoy” he had a white labotary cloak, which you inferred he was probably a scientist.
There were three other people in the room, Storm was radiating the sweetest energy. She was even worried about hurting you, when you were shaking her hand. One of the two men was a gentleman sitting in a wheelchair, who clearly informed you via telekinesis, that he could also read minds. His name was Charles Xavier, apparently he is the founder of all this. And the last but not least guy was looking pretty hot, like really fucking hot.
You felt goosebombs jumping all over your body when he walks towards you. His mischievous grin hits you right into your core, which started unexpectedly pulsating. “Hey kiddo” his deep voice tickled your ears and when you grab his enormous hand, your jaw dropped. Again, you read his mind without authorization. There was imagination of you, naked and being fucked by this man right in this room.
You flinched and released his grip. Your shocked face made that man scoff, before he leaned closer to your face. "Logan, nice to meet ya" he whispered before backing up onto his place, where he was originally standing. You were frozen, your mind was keep replaying that image of his, bended over a table that Charles was sitting behind.
You weren't even woken up by Jean's coughing, which was a clear indication that you should move. When that didn't happen, your sister decided to step in. “Alright! We should probably head away now...right sis?" Jean laugh and shake your body, when she grabbed your shoulder. You nodded, still speechless from Logan's thoughts.
"Bye! See ya later guys!" your sister led you out of the room and the moment the doors close, she tightly grabbed your arms and lower herself to your level. “Hey what's wrong with you?" you felt better now, so you finally answered her properly. "I'm fine" Jean was still firmly holding you, raising her eyebrow suspiciously. "You sure?" you nodded and gave her a fake smile, that convinced her.
Of course, she could read your mind and find out what's really going on in there, but both of you promised each other to not read each other's minds. You've honestly followed this rule since you were little, so why break it now?
“Okay, let me show you this place and then I'll help you unpack your things hm?” you nodded, not that you really have a choice, and walk beside her. However, the thought of Logan still hasn't left you. His soft hair shaped into ears of a beast, his sideburns that beautifully accentuated his face and his coffee coded eyes. God, his eyes were the second thing that stuck in your mind, after that deviant thought about you.
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You were folding your clothes and putting them in the wardrobe right opposite your bed. Jean was helping you, using her mind to speed up the job. Few hours passed since you met Jean's colleagues and you still haven't stopped thinking about Logan. You didn't want to mention him in front of your sister, but your curiosity and desire got the better of you.
“So…um what exactly are Logan's powers?” There was pretty quiet silence, before Jean answered. “He has animal-keen senses, which includes healing factor and adamantium skeleton” you hummed and pursed your lips while nodding. Yoi were thinking for a second before asking again.
“So he's immortal?” “More or less... rather delayed aging, but we could easily kill him with our minds” Jean smilled while putting your shirt in the wardrobe. “Why'd you ask?” “Just curious…” surely you weren't just curious, but on the other hand you wanted to know what makes him so speacial to be on the same level as Jean. Seems like having a fury powers pays off.
“And how old is he?” your question caught your sister off guard and when the pieces fell into place, she dramatically gasp. “Do you have a crush on him?!” Fuck. Your eyes widened and you gave her a double look. “No! No I don't-“ “Look at me” Jean knows whenever you lie without using her powers, you always avoid eye contact and play with your fingers. Unfortunately, you did avoid eye contact and played with your fingers.
“I don't I just-“ “Look, I'll be honest with you, Logan is not a good guy,” you finally look into her eyes, when her voice changed into serious one. “He was hitting on me, even tho he knew damn well I was with Scott!” she threw her hands in the air, looking really frustrated while you just innocently stared at her and listen. “He's the type of guy that will use you, before he throws you away like a piece of trash” you incredulously raised your eyebrows. You tried your best to believe, that Jean was lying, but her face was dead serious.
“Really?” You squeal quietly with a disappointment in your soft voice. “Yes…” Jean sigh and came closer to you, when she notice how much that information hurt you. "I want the best for you sis and that's definitely not Logan" she grabbed your arms. "There are plenty of other handsome boys your age, who deserve you a hundred times more than he does" you nodded, even though you were refusing to trust her words. You didn't care about other boys, you cared about Logan.
"I understand, Logan's charm is irreplaceable" Jean acknowledged, making you smirk and nod in agreement. "But still…just don't fall for him 'kay?” you silently nodded, knowing that you already fell for him. You were aware that your sister was just trying to protect you and all that, because it's her responsinility, howerer, emotions cannot be controlled, neither can desire.
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It was late at night, the moon was already glowing through the blinds of your room, which was lit just by a small night lamp. Your eyes were glued to small letters of your favorite book. You read word by word, line by line and paragraph by paragraph, until you turned the pages one by one. Time passed but your appetite for sleep was nowhere to be found.
You've no idea what time is it, but thanks to stars in the sky, which gave more light into your room, you deduced that it was pretty late. You naively thought that reading a book would make you tired, but that didn't happen. You didn't feel the slightest hint of tiredness as your mind was filled with thoughts of the man you were forbidden from your sister.
Every nerve in your body, every muscle wanted and still wants to feel Logan's hand like the first time, to hug him, to smell his scent, to feel him. You've probably never been so miserable like that for a man before. It's strange how much emotions can control you.
Since reading didn't help you fall asleep and you needed some sleep, there was only one possible way how to get tired. Coffee. For all the people you know, coffee gives them a boost of energy and wakes them up, but for you, it has the exact opposite effect. A good coffee with milk makes you tired, therefore you are always 100% sure that you'll fall asleep like a baby after it.
Since it was late at night, you didn't want to bother Jean to tell you the way to the common kitchen, so you quietly tiptoeed around the halls by yourself. It took you a while but your sense of direction did not fail you.
You peeked around the corner and besides a beautifully clean and cozy kitchen, you also saw Logan standing there with a beer bottle in his hand. At first, you thought you were just dreaming and already fell asleep, but it felt too real to be just a dream.
“Hey sweetheart” Logan greeted you when you caught his eye. "Hey" a quiet squeak left your lips, as were trying to find a capsule for coffee machine. “Lookin' for somethin'?” “Y-yeah a capsule…” Logan walked closer to you, leaving you breathless as the distance between you was almost immeasurable. He grinned, before his hand opens a cabin above you and handed you a capsule.
You weren't even able to say thank you when he stepped away from you. He insidiously left you full of anticipation just so he left you and don't do anything. You started to get to know his character, he likes to play with people and that's what makes him dangerous, but also so terribly charming.
You turned around and clicked the capsule into the coffee machine. You awkwardly waited for the coffee to be made, as the annoying noise echoed throughout the kitchen. You subtly glanced to the side and immediately dodged, when you noticed Logan watching you.
"Is there any reason you're getting a coffee at this hour?" he stepped forward, but leaving a fair space between. "I can't sleep" you chuckle as you realize how stupid it sounds. "And coffee helps?" you nodded and turned your head over to him. "No argument against taste" he takes a sip from his bottle, signing that his sleeping aid is beer.
You smiled before a soft exhale escaped your lips. You stared at each other and you couldn't help but read his mind. It was a view from third person. You and him in this kitchen just like now, except that you were sitting on the counter while Logan was hungrily kissing you and exploring your whole body with his hands. Your heartbeat raise and you almost melt at the image, when suddenly you went back to reality as a beeb sound from the coffee machine rang in your ears.
You subtly cleared your throat and poured coffee into the mug. But before you could turn around to get a milk from fridge, Logan overtook you. Without a blink of an eye, he was behind you and holding a cartoon milk box. "Need this?" he was standing so incredibly close, his breath was brushing your cold ears. You inhale shakily and nodded.
"Tell me when to stop" he whispered, pouring the milk into the mug already half filled with coffee. You started feeling your core pulsating, but as if that wasn't enough, his free hand touched your weist. You gasp, breath caught in your throat as his grip on your hip tightens. "Tell me when to stop" he repeated himself, his lips now touching your ear, the milk still pouring and his hand on your body slowly moved downwards.
You realize that his sentence had two meanings and wasn't just about milk. When the milk almost overflowed from the mug, he put it on the counter and finally had the opportunity to give you all his attention. Both of his hands were on you, one was going down, second up. You knew this was wrong, that you should've already stop him, but you couldn't. You wanted this, you needed this, you longed for this.
You could sense from his touch that he's being really careful and gentle, which is hardly against his nature. But he would do the sacrifice for you. One of his hand was already up your neck, hugged it lightly, so that he had you under control, while the other was getting dangerously close to your private part. Your eyes were keeping flickering, trying so hard to keep your vision clear but Logan's fingertips were leaving you breathless.
"Do you want it?" he groans, his low voice makes your pulsating faster. You nodded harshly, wanted to say something but all you could manage to do was just a quiet tiny moan. That was enough for Logan. His hand slides under your pajama shorts. He chuckle and moved his head even closer to yours, when he realized you're not wearing any panties. “Coincidence?”
Like everyone, you don't wear any underwear underneath your pajamas, because it's way more comfortable. However, you certainly didn't plan on deliberately not wearing panties, if something like this happened. However, Logan believed the version in his head, that you predicted the future and decided to not wear panties on purpose. Either way, the conclusion is the same, Logan has better access to your core.
You close your eyes and exhale softly, when you felt his cold fingers against your wet folds. "So wet, just because of me?" his rhetorical questions was turning you on even more. His dominance knew no bounds and so did his fingers, that were gently rubbing your labia. You bite your lips when he puts more pressure into his movements, trying not to look like a needy slut, even tho you were.
Everything around you started fading away, the only thing you could focus on was Logan and his fingers on your pussy. You could feel his growing dick trapped in his pants, poking your ass. Your instincts made you move your hips towards his fingers, rhythmically and without realizing provoking his dick. His breath started being cut off more frequently, you tortured him. You desperately wished you could read his mind right now, but you were too overhelmed to do so.
You lost yourself when he slowly insert his finger inside, finally making you whimper and throwing your head back, so you were leaning againts Logan's shoulder. “Oh you like that don't you?” He grinned, watching your scrunched face as he felt your throbbing arousal. His hips lightly rubbed against your ass, trying to feel some friction too.
You started seeing stars even so your eyes were tightly closed. Logan's handy finger was curling inside you, reaching that good spot you could never reach yourself. Wet juicy sound wafted through the kitchen and for a moment, you forgot where you are or what your name is.
“Good girl” he complimented you as he subtly slipped a second finger in. Stretching your walls while holding your neck tightly, showing who's in control, even though it was clear from the beginning. You were enjoying it so much, you had never felt such pleasure before. You move on your tiptoes as you felt the heat, spreading from your crotch to your whole body.
Logan's curling inside you picked up the pace, his hot breaths turned into chuckling, as he felt your clenching around him. "Come on baby" he supported you giving you a last straw. You left a load moan and cum on Logans fingers, before you relaxed and came back from your high. Your chest was moving rapidly, as you tried to catch your breath. Logan laughed and pulled his fingers out of you which he tasted and grunted. He didn't need to say anything to prove how delicious you are.
He released your neck and leaned his elbow on the counter, watching your red face. "You've never been touched before, have you?" he smirk, but before you could answer you heard a familiar coughing. You turn around and saw Jean, leaning against the doorframe. "What're you two doing here?" her arms were crossed and eyebrows furrowed. You had no idea how long she's been standing there, but you hoped not too long.
"Just talkin'" Logan saved your ass and wanted to leave the kitchen, but Jean grabbed his wrist and looked him deadly in his eyes. "Let me talk to you for a sec" she dragged him into the corridor without leaving him a choice. Jean pathetically thought she tricked you into not hearing their conversation, but she still doesn't realize how strong your telepathic powers are.
*Stay away from her* your sister angrily whispered to Logan, making you feel embarrassed, like you couldn't stand for yourself alone. *If you hurt her, I'll kill you* *Jesus calm down woman! Why should I hurt her?* You were deciding whether to leave or stay, but the second option seems better. You sip from your coffee as you were listening to Jean's confrontation. You couldn't help but think back to Logan's hand placement and even though it was just a few minutes ago, you missed it.
*If I ever see you with her again I-* *Don't worry, you won't, trust me* after that, you heard footsteps walking away. You quickly straightened up and peeked who walked first. When Logan made a quick eye contact with you, you got anxious. What if Jean really intimidated Logan and he meant all his words? But all these negative thoughts fell aside when he winked at you, before leaving your sight. You smiled and giggle under your nose, as you took another sip from your coffee.
"Fuck me sis" Jean breathed out, feeling exhausted like she just ran a marathon, even that it was just a stupid argument with Logan. You raised your eyebrows, your smile not leaving your face. "Somethin' wron-" "Are you serious?" you provoked Jean by pissing her off even more than she already was. "I told you to stay away from him" "Hmm no, you said not to fall for him and that he's a bad guy" you corrected her, keep smiling. She gave you a real nasty look that you've seen just couple of times. Now you knew you are fucked.
"Fine, I'm saying it now. Stay away from him, okay?" you wanted to pull up the fact that you are an adult so that she has nothing to command you, but you didn't want to piss her off even more. She already looked quite tired and it must've been pretty late. That's why you decided to be a good girl and submissively agree to her order. "Great...now go to sleep" satisfied with your answer, she exhaled and gave you another order to fulfill.
"Night sis" you walked past her, devilishly smiling while holding your cup of coffee with both hands. You knew that Jean was losing her temper with you, but you enjoyed it. On the way to your room, you could already feel the fatigue falling on you. But you still thought that if you didn't go get coffee, Logan's fingering would be plenty enough for a sweet sleep.
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The next day went smoothly. You started smilling more, stopped being grumpy and helped with cleaning the school. All that happily surprised your sister, but she didn't complain at all. Your work was helpful. You mopped the floors, swept the dust and sorted the textbooks in a library. However, under normal circumstances, you wouldn't do these chores at all. Logan was your only and sufficient motivation.
Since the moment you woke up, you couldn't stop thinking about him. About his husky breath tickling your ear, his hand tightly holding your neck, his soft fingers curling inside you, poking your walls until you came. You couldn't stop thinking about him. Your highest record of the day was one minute, when there was uncleanable dirt on the floor and you had to go on all fours and scrub it with great force.
Your heartbeat raises whenever you met Logan in the hall, who gave you a slight smile and wink, creating a waterfall between your legs. The enthusiasm was so strong that you really volunteered to clean everything you could, even with joy. Logan brainwashed you so much without hypnotizing you in any way, he's really dangerous.
The whole day went by pretty quickly and before you blinked twice, it was dark outside again and the moonlight glittered nicely in the reflection of the flying dust. In addition to the high praise and involuntary hug from Jean, you also received recognition from Charles, which is said to be rare or something. Of course you appreciated that, but you didn't do it just for some praise. Your main intention was to meet Logan whenever and wherever you could. You were quite limited, since that order from Jean yesterday, but you always managed to throw a flirtatious smile at each other.
Just as yesterday, you were laying in your bed, reading your favorite book, which you've already read like five times. Even so, you get goosebombs all over your body, whenever you're done reading it. But today was a little different. You were already quite tired. After all, you were like a maid all day and you deserve a long rest, but your body needed something else. You need to feel Logan, at least see him, somehow interact with him. It felt like he was a part of you, of your body and without him, you wouldn't survive a day.
It was pretty late, when you checked the clock it shows an hour after midnight. All the students, including the teachers, are definitely asleep, except for you. Your sexual scenarios about Logan in your head couldn't leave you and your desire grows every second you think about him. If you could, you would have searched his room already, but the fear of Jean catching you again was bigger and kept nudging you in the back of your mind. What if she caught you durring the act? She would definitely send you back home and you can't risk that.
That's why you sigh with disappointment and decided to turn off the lamp and go to sleep, when suddenly your heard a soft knock on the door. You froze, deciding whether to go open the door or just shout from your bed. The first choice seems calmer and quieter. "Hey" you froze when you saw Logan standing in front of you. For a moment there you though his hidden power is mind reading too.
“H-hey” nervously with incomprehension in your voice you widened your eyes, that were filled with expectation. "I hope I didn't wake you up" he gave you puppy eyes that made your heart melt. Yesterday you didn't even have time to take a good look at his majestic face, which you saw properly when you met him for the first time.
"N-no I couldn't sleep anyway" you cough akwardly, your face still surprised from that shock. "Okay and um sorry to bother it's just…I ran out of toothpaste and I was wondering if I could borrow yours?" he shows you his toothbrush and empty toothpaste, looking at you through his thick eyebrows. You look down at the toothbrush, then back up into his chocolate coffee eyes, where you got lost for a moment.
“Yeah, sure come on in” you stepped aside and opened the door wider, leaving space for Logan to walk in. “Thanks, you're a life saver” you chuckle and close the door behind him. Adrenaline was starting to run through your blood at the thought of being alone with Logan in your room this late at night. If Logan could finger you in the kitchen last night, what can he do in your room now?
"Bathroom is?" "Oh right there" you pointed at the door right next to the massive wardrobe. He nodded and smiled, before disappearing in that room. You sat down on your bed, right in front of the bathroom door, staring at them, your mind filled with millions of scenarios about Logan. Was that a sign that he appeared in your room just now? Or did he do it on purpose? Or was that a fate? Those, maybe pathetic questions, filled your head together with the imaginations and your mind was a total mess by now.
You were so busy with your thoughts that you didn't realize how fast time was flying and suddenly, Logan emerged from the bathroom. You quickly shake your head and smiled at him. “Thank you” he smiled back and walk slowly towards you. Your smile fade away and your face turned into craving one. "But there's something else I need" he licked his lips, his eyes flicked from your bottom to your eyes. You knew what he was implying and you shivered with anticipation. "W-what is it?" you harshly asked, your heart beating really fast, in a moment you though it would even burst out of your chest.
“You know damn well princess” he put a strand of hair behind your ear before cupping your cheek. "Read my mind" he commanded and didn't need to tell you twice to do that. You saw an image of you and Logan, in the exact same place as you are right one, just with one difference. You were sucking his dick. Your eyes widened when you went back to reality, looking deep into Logans eyes, which were black, full of lust.
"Can you do that for me darlin'?" he rubbed your cheek as you were leaning into his touch. The warm from his palm spread all over your face. A flame of fire began to form between your legs, making your core pulsating and clenching around nothing. When you pit yourself together, you nodded and grab the waistband od Logan's pants. He watched your every move, his erection already twitching with impatience.
"That's right..." he whispered, caressing your cheek and hissed, as his pants fell on the floor and the cool air touched his dick. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw him in his full beauty. You've never seen this in real life, moreover, so close and so huge. The thought of him being inside your mouth or inside you excited you, but also scared you at the same time. You licked your lips as your mouth filled with saliva.
"Come on, open your mouth" Logan slides his massive hand into your hair, scratching and massaging your head. You swallowed loudly before opening your mouth and approached his tip. “Grab it” he quickly ordered before your lips even touched him. Your eyes met his, as you wrap your hand around his base, making him breathe out loudly. "That's it, now your mouth" he gently, with a little bit of strength, pushed your head closer to his penis, till his pink tip was fully covered with your wet lips.
He kept pushing you forward, hissing. "Yeah baby...that's it" you were already halfway through, his tip touching your throat already. "Now your hand" you instantly understood his short sentences. You slowly began to stroke him off, but your mouth was stiff. Logan helped you, pushing your head back and forth. Your eyes were glued on his, as you were watching him licking his lips and quietly whimpering. “Mhm good girl”
Your eyes started filling with tears as the pace of your sucking and the strength of your hand quickened. Logan was slowly losing his senses as he tried really hard to reach his climax. His hips thrusting inside your mouth, slowly at first, but gradually speeding up. Your innocent face from tears, while you had his dick in your mouth, was driving him crazy.
"Yes...yes" he clenched his teeth, the wolf look on his face makes your panties soaked. "Ohh yeah" he threw his head back, your hot mouth felt like the best pussy he ever had. He couldn't last long, few more moves of your head makes him curl his toes and dropped his jaw. "Fuck!" that was his final moan, before he emptied his balls inside you, pushing your head so far, that your nose bumped into his lower stomach.
His heavy breathing was the only thing that could be heard in the room. He gave you a soft grin, gently wiping your tears from your blushed face. "You're so beautiful" Logan grunted, making you chuckle as you lick the remains of his cum from your lips. "But I'm not done with you" he got on his knees and gave you a lustful smirk. Before you could manage to recover from previous activity, Logan held your thighs tightly, spreading them far enough to make your pussy peek through the soft fabric of your pajama shorts.
“God..." he huffed as he saw your wetness already leaking on the sheets. "You are the muse of all my wet dreams" he groans as his face was dangerously fast approaching your core. "From the moment I saw you," his hands slides under your shorts. "I wondered how you taste" without a second thought, he tore off your shorts and tossed them aside. You gasped, adrenaline racing through your body.
Logan gave you one last devilish grin, before burying his face into your pussy. You immediately throw your head back and grab his silky hair, as you bit your lips tightly. His tongue was briskly without mercy moving around your labia, sometimes gently slipped in, but he always doubted only on the surface. You tried your best to keep your moans and whimpers in quiet, but it was impossible.
"Logan" you rolled your eyes as his nose poked your sensitive clitoris, pushing you further to the edge. Your hands tugging his kitty hair, whenever he find that good spot. However, this was all just a foreplay, as the real fun began when he finally slid his tongue inside you.
Your jaw fell open and you put your head back in place as you watched Logan's face. His sideburns brushing and tickling your skin, leaving red marks. His eyes met yours, they were so dark that you could see your reflection in them. You loose it all when he smiled at you, his teeth brushing against your core. He held firmly your thighs, as your natural instinct made you move your hips to the rhythm of Logan's tongue.
His groans send pleasurable waves into your lower stomach, sending you even closer to your orgasm. His clever tongue was stretching your walls, tasting your juice and sucking your skin as much as he could. He sense that you were close, not only because of your uncontrollable moaning of his name and not only because his animal instincts sensed it, but mainly because of your clenching around his wet hot tongue.
You tried to ride on his face, to finally reach what you desired all day and what you deserve, but Logan was too malicious to indulge it to you that easily. He removed his tongue from you just a second before you'd finally release. You let out a disappointed breath, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion as you look at Logan.
"Not so easy princess" he climb on top of you, making you fall on the bed submissively. "I wanna feel you" he kissed you hungrily, not wasting any time and pushing his tongue inside your mouth, making you taste yourself. You immediately started cooperating, not only with your mouth but also with your hands, which you wrap around Logan's neck.
His hands were traveling through your whole body, trying to memorize every inch of you just by a touch. Soft moans left your mouth matching with Logan's impatient growls. You were relaxed until you felt something poking in your inner thigh.
Your eyes almost popped out of their sockets, when you came back to your senses. You stopped kissing him and pushed him away a little. "What?" he whispered, his eyes full of lust but his eyebrows were furrowed, confused. You hesitate for a moment, whether to tell him or not, but every time you felt his tip against your private area, you heart skipped a beat and the stress level were rising incredibly fast.
"I am um...virgin" a really quiet, almost silent whisper left your lips and your cheeks started turning red. The embarrassment and shyness raced through your blood, as you waited for Logan's reaction. He chuckled, showing his bright white teeth. "I know" you gave him a confused expression. Your mind started wondering who told him that and started suspecting Jean. "I don't need to read minds to figure that out"
Before you could recover from Logan's words, his lips were on yours again. You were relieved that he took the information in stride and you weren't so nervous anymore. It wasn't long before his hands were under your t-shirt which was gone in the blink of an eye. Likewise, Logan's shirt also ended up somewhere on the floor and your naked bodies were firmly attached to each other.
Your heart was beating, your veins were pulsing and your core was already clenching around nothing, yet. After a long make out session, Logan pulled away from you a little. His eyes looked into yours and he could feel your fear and excitement at the same time.
"I'll take care of you" his palm cupped your cheek, rubbing it with his thumb. You close your eyes and nodded, trying to calm your breath down. He really gave you the sense of security that you needed the most at the moment. Logan gently kissed you, before you felt his wet tip inserting between your labia.
You squeak between the kisses, the pain started increasing as Logan pushed deeper and deeper. "It's alright it's alright" he whispered, his lips still glued to yours as his hips moved forwards. Your face tensed while trying to ignore the pain. It felt like his dick is endless and he kept pushing, leaving no room for anything else inside you. Before long, he was fully inside you. Logan waited, the kissing sound filling the silent room and your walls got expanded.
It only took a few more passionate kisses and eager touches, before you got the urge for some friction and started really slowly moving your hips. Logan smiled devilishly as his lips were still firmly fixed on yours, a low chuckle left his throat. "Oh someone is eager?" he started moving his hips too, matching your motions. At first he moved slowly and carefully, his intention wasn't to hurt you but to please you.
His pace was smooth and gentle, whenever his balls touched your ass, you whimper as much as your vocals let you. Logan tried to keep kissing you, but when his thrusting started to pick up the pace, he couldn't focus on your lips anymore.
You lost all your senses the moment Logan's tip reached your cervix and started poking into it. His eagerness to reach his orgasm took over him so much, that he lost control of his hips. He was thrusting into you as fast and hard as he could, your moans getting louder and caressing Logan's eardrums. Your room was filled with nothing but synchronized sighs, wet clapping sounds and bed creaking.
“Jesus….fuck” it was clear from Logan's choppy moans that he was on the edge. His tip was twitching inside you, every vain was about to burst and drops of sweat from his forehead fell on your naked body. He looked like a wild animal and that only added to the atmosphere. You started feeling the heat in your lower abdomen and the need to pee was increasing. Your nails dug deep into Logan's back, while he was clenching his predatory teeth.
"C'mon darlin'" he caressed your cheek a few times, wiping your tears away. He knew you were close thanks to your clenching core that sends him even faster to his orgasm. One, two and on the third hard thrust, you tensed your whole body before you completely relaxed and cum on his cock. You arched your back and moaned loudly, tears falling from your eyes. Logan was still going, desperately trying to reach his orgasm too. Your face makes it easier to finally inject everything into you and before you recovered, he pulled out and cum on your stomach.
White sticky liquid was covering your stomach, while both of you tried to catch your breath. Logan collapsed next to you, closing his eyes and gaining some energy, before he hugged you and pulled you closer to him. You automatically cooperate and laid your head on his muscular shoulder. You were quiet, your nostrils were massive as you were still trying to catch up the oxygen that you lost during the previous act.
You looked up at him, admiring his red sweaty face, which still looked majestic. It didn't take long, until Logan locked his eyes with yours and smiled, as he rubbed your arm. "What're you thinking about hm?" without realizing, your smile fades into a neutral expression. You sigh sadly and break eye contact. "I'm thinking about Jean's words..." it was quiet briefly. "What words?" you were thinking, whether to tell him the truth or not. "She told me that you just going to use me and then throw me away like a piece of garbage..." you decided to tell him the truth, even if it might affect him.
"Really? Is that what she said?" he chuckled mockingly, making you look at him again. But your disappointed and thoughtful face didn't change. Logan sensed your worry and sighs. "Read my mind" he said with a low rough voice, waiting for you to do so.
You saw yourself and Logan, sitting at a checkered blanket in the middle of the park while Logan fed you with strawberries. You giggle, but it wasn't the only vision that warmed your heart. Suddenly you were at the cinema, holding hands and while you were paying attention to the movie, Logan was mainly watching you. The next vision was in the kitchen, you baking cookies together. You also couldn't notice the small detail, that you were wearing his sweatshirt. These were enough reasons to make you blush and conjure up smile from ear to ear.
"I don't want to use you and I definitely don't want to throw you away like a piece of trash..." he pulled you even closer. "I'm serious bub" Your teeth started showing, as you couldn't stop blushing. "I really like you like a lot and uh…” you cut his speech by kissing him. It was cute but a soothing slow kiss that reassured you both, that you meant it. When you pulled out, Logan tiredly grinned and placed a soft kiss on your forehead.
You just watched each other for a while, enjoying each other's presence while you were still naked and your stomach still dirty with Logan's cum. "You tried it on Jean even though she was in relationship?" you asked suspiciously. Logan chuckled and shook his head. "Yes but not anymore" "Uh huh" you jokingly agreed, making Logan furrow his eyebrows. “You don't bealive me?" "I do" you agreed provocatively.
Logan devilishly smirked and attacked you, making you laugh and giggle. After a short tickling and prodding, Logan finally stopped. "Let's get you clean up bub" he said after he noticed his semen still laying on your naked body. He picked you up like a princess and carried you to the bathroom, where you both showered with a few passionate kisses and ended up clean and fragrant under the covers.
You fell asleep in his arms, being the happiest person in the whole world at that moment.
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You woke up thanks to the rays of the sun that annoyingly shines directly into your eyes. You inhale before looking up, smiling as you saw Logan's sleepy face. His hair was tousled and he smelled like home. You wanted nothing more.
However, this beautiful early morning moment was interrupted by footsteps approaching your door. You knew right away that it was Jean and before you could wake Logan, she quietly opened the door. "Good mornin'!" she whispered and smiled. You nervously smiled back, unfortunately broking your promise. You controlled her mind so that she wouldn't see Logan sleeping right next to you, naked.
It must've worked because she was still looking at you with a massive smile on her face. "I won't bother you anymore…just get ready for breakfast, then you'll go help me with books!" You grunted in annoyance before Jean finally closed the door, leaving you two finally alone.
You dropped your head and sigh. "You cunning woman" you heard a dark raspy voice next to your ear, before Logan showered you with millions of meringue kisses on your cheek. You playfully giggle, trying to push Logan away, but it was useless.
"Did you sleep well?" he asked after he finally let your face go. You nodded, giving him a questioning look that asked him the same. "Well, since I slept next to the most amazing girl in the world...I slept great" he gave you another passionate kiss, filling your stomach with butterflies.
You don't know how to say it or explain it to Jean yet, but the only thing you know 100% is that Logan fucks really good.
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targaryenluvs · 11 months ago
Text
RAVAGE
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pairing: dark!president!coriolanus snow x innocent!wife!reader
summary: he’d won the election, much to your elation. now you’d have to navigate the fame, fortune and status as the first lady of panem. but coriolanus just wanted you all to himself, and he’d do anything to scare you into his arms.
warnings: possessiveness, murder, robbery, bad smut, controlling, tears, babying, kisses, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v, kinda subby corio/dom, praise, sense of entitlement? breeding kink, tummy bulge, overstimulation, little bit of aftercare
word count: 2k
a/n: i’m such a bitch for making everyone wait so long for a delicate part two 😌 and i finally have the confidence for smut so heheh - yes i’m using tvd names a lot - corio/coryo use - tried out a new layout 👀
part one of delicate
you couldn’t believe it.
coriolanus snow, president of panem.
all of his hard work has finally paid off and you couldn’t be more happy for him. you wanted to give him a gift but you still had no idea what he would want. it seemed the two of you practically had everything overnight, so a measly gift seemed to be difficult to acquire, one that he liked? even harder.
so you’d decided to go out, the idea of surprising him exciting you so much you’d forgotten to tell coriolanus where you were going to.
so imagine his surprise when his assistant told him you’d left the house, viewing you on the security cameras.
which you had no idea were there.
coriolanus saw it as an act of defiance.
he had to move about this correctly, he couldn’t have you injured, but he needed to scare you back into his arms. to remind you of the horrible place that panem was.
over twelve stores, and nothing. so you’d decided to enlist the help of one of your few friends. “not a single clue of what he’d want?” elena asked as you stabbed at your fries, “nope.” you answered as you placed a fry in your mouth.
“well if he has absolutely everything then his gorgeous wife should be a nice gift after an extremely long day no?” you looked up at her, confused, “what do you mean?” she giggled, “oh god, i forget how you don’t know that much. you, y/n.” at your adorable puppy face she leaned in, “your body.” you jumped back at her words, “i… i’ve never.”
“you’ve never?!” elena slapped her hand over her mouth at your admission, “how? i mean you’re absolutely stunning sweetheart, how hasn’t he yet?” you played with the table cloth in your hands, “i don’t know.” elena twisted her fork around her pasta, “okay has he never made a move, or, have you never noticed the signs?” you took a sip of your wine as you stared back at her, “what signs?” elena sighed, rubbing her temple, “there are signs, moments. the two of you, sitting on the couch and his hand trails higher. his breath quickens at the sight of you in a dress. the little things.”
“and what happens if you notice these signs, act on them?” and this was exactly her expertise, she wiped her face with her napkin before paying the bill. “if i’m going to explain this in detail then we need to go to my house. or a dirtier part of town. my dear girl, i’m taking you to your first ever bar.”
coriolanus has to hold on to his mask of self-restraint, you’d been spotted at a bar, with one of your friends that he despised. but at least his plan could take full effect without a hitch.
your mind had been blown, irrevocably and utterly blown. the way elena had described it all, she made it sound like heaven. but she did tell you about other men, some care for themselves more so than the girl. and you had no clue what type of man corio was in bed.
you’d been so absorbed in your own thoughts you hadn’t noticed the man following you, not until he attacked you. he’d been going after your bag of course, but it was a gift from coriolanus. the man was unrelenting as he shoved you against the cold wall, grimy hands pushing and pulling with you as you tried to regain hold of your purse. “let go!” you cried out before he slammed you into the wall again, loosing grip on the purse coriolanus had just gifted you.
what would he say? it was his gift to you!
you woke up with a throbbing headache and corios hands brushing away strands from your face. “there you are sweet thing. you feeling okay?” you peered up at him, unable to move due to the millions of blankets on you. noticing your struggle he smiled before shifting them off, “better?” you nodded before sitting up with his help.
“corio, i lost the bag you gave me. the bad guy he- i’m so so sorry. please don’t be mad with me i didn’t mean to-“ he laughed, although it didn’t reach his eyes, “you think i care about the bag y/n/n? i could buy you a million bags, better bags. i’m just glad you’re okay. those guys, they won’t bother you again.” all you could do was sob and hug him, pondering the meaning of his words.
AN HOUR AGO
“hey, what the hell man? you said to attack the girl and take the bag!” the man shouted as coriolanus undid his cuffs, adjusted his sleeve, pushing it back on both arms. “i told you to go for the bag, yes. but i specifically remember drilling it into your head not to hurt her. and now she’s lying in bed, has been for the past three house with bruises everywhere. and for that?”
shouts and screams of pain echoed through the abandoned building as coriolanus struck the man with a hammer, over and over and over. the job had one guideline. and this idiot couldn’t get it right.
don’t hurt his delicate girl.
PRESENT
you’d been so absorbed with worrying over the purse and apologising for your tears you hadn’t noticed corios hungry eyes. “i really did like that purse.” he murmured, “oh corio, i should’ve tried harder to keep it. what can i do?” hook, line and sinker. he had you where he wanted and he’d finally get what he deserved.
“let me fuck you. please.” and who were you to say no? your naivety led to him laying you down on the bed, head between your thighs. you’d heard about it from elena, a man pleasuring a woman, but it was a million times better than you could’ve imagined. coriolanus was messy, and desperate. he’d been waiting for so long and god was it worth it.
his heart raced with both excitement and nervousness as he held your thighs in his own hands, tracing up and downwards, feeling the warmth against his own skin. coriolanus couldn't resist the opportunity to tease you. “you wanna cum?” corio mumbled as he continued sucking on your swollen clit, “mhm.” you could hear him laughing at your pathetic excuse of agreeing.
coriolanus wholeheartedly believes you belong to him. the second you were married, and even before, you were his. your submission would prove it, and he would do anything for it. you were his and he was yours. his bold blue eyes ravished you, all of you, “who’s making you feel this good?” your hips squirmed away from him but he just pulled you back, pushing two fingers into you.
corio reveled in your naivety, the way you responded to his touch, the way you whispered dirty words as if it were a sin. and right now, you still couldn’t bring yourself to name what you needed. his pace was brutal as he lapped at your cunt, a third finger curling inside of you as they went in and out. your gasps and cries were music to his ears, he’d been denied this all too long, and he wasn’t sure how he’d ever done it. “cmon, say it.” and you did, over and over again. “it’s you! you, coryo.”
“coryo, ah, your fingers feel so good,” you mewled, tilting your hips more trying to lean into his touch. coryo withdrew his fingers to play with your clit, rubbing circles around your sensitive nub that resulted in you crying out in pleasure.
“such a good girl, getting all wet for me,” you nodded along dumbly, “for you, all you.” you babbled as he kissed you deeply.
coryos hand dragged up and down your folds, “your pussy is soaked, baby. look at that,” you whined at the feeling of him not touching you, your cheeks flushed at the sight of your arousal. coryo pulled his pants down, throwing them away over his shoulder. you hid your head into the pillow as coryo tutted, “you have to look pretty girl, look at the mess you made.” coryo taunted as he rubbed your slick juices all over his dick, trying to humiliate you, get a rise out of you. coryos hand holds onto your neck, tightening as you clutched on with both hands, “please, coryo, i’ll be so good.” he rested his forehead on yours, noses touching.
“i love you, i love you, i love you.” he whispered in your ear, “my beautiful wife, you’d look so good with my baby in you.” the idea of having his baby had you pressing your lips to his as he bit down on your lower lip, making you gasp as your lips part, his tongue pushing inside your mouth, exploring every bit of you he’d ever wished to. his hunger hadn’t fallen, only increased.
“ i need to fuck you,” he panted, you having stolen his breath. coryo teased your folds with the head of his cock, “need to fill up this pretty little pussy of yours,” he pushed into you, warm walls coating his cock as he groaned, “you feel so good.” he moaned into your neck as your hands clutched onto his broad shoulders. he wasn’t sure if he’d last long but then again he didn’t care, it’s not like you knew it was a short time.
the way you clenched down on him was more than enough proof of your virginity. your cries fueled him on as he pinned your hips down into the mattress, rutting against you wildly. “you feel that?” he was everywhere, filling you up. his dick making an appearance through the bulge in your tummy. “uh-huh. too much i can’t-” he stopped you before you could finish by pressing down on it with his palm, “yes you can baby.” you shook your head, “coryo i can’t, you feel too good.” you begin, crying from how good he was making you feel, from how dumb and desperate he was making you.
“m’ gonna fill you up, gonna give you my baby.” he was driving you crazy, his heavy panting, hands on either side of your head, his voice was deep and filled with fire. “yes, yes please inside me.” coryo’s eyes squeezed shut and his brow furrowed you were too much, fuelled on by the idea of a pregnant wife, pregnant you. swollen belly, heavy breasts, relying on him to help you out of bed. his hips stuttered and faltered as he came inside you with a low groan. he didn’t care about pulling out and neither did you as your release came down on you again. “feels so good coryo, thank you.”
he couldn’t help his smile as you continued to thank him for making you feel so good. his ego was sure as hell swelling as he pulled out of you, collapsing on the bed. his hand caressed your face, kissing you all over, praising you.
“you did so well f’me. proud of you baby.” you grinned up at him as you snuggled into his neck. “only for you coryo.” all for him. “i’ll clean you up okay?” you nodded along as he got out of bed.
coriolanus deemed the night a success, but for some reason he didn’t feel complete. he wanted more. but as he looked up at your sleepy eyes and tired out body he wanted to let you rest. but the idea seemed to slip out of his head once he was levelled with your core again, his release spilling out of you and the warm towel forgotten. he didn’t stop himself when he began to lick at you, his tongue working his way into your entrance as your head shoved at his face.
“coryo, i’m sensitive. coryo please stop.” you attempted to crawl away but his hands dragged you to the edge of the bed, legs around his head. your body fell limp against the sheets as pleasure took over. your hands laced with his hair as you cried out.
it was going to be a long night.
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winxanity-ii · 2 months ago
Text
FATHER, FORGIVE ME
ship: father charlie x fem!reader warnings: nsfw 🔞 ( oral sex/f. receiving; overstimulation; coercion/dub-con?; sacrilege, heavy religious imagery ) word count: 4.1k a/n: ahhh….I just want to say I'm so thrilled with all the love and support for the mini Devotion series! It means the world to me to see you guys enjoying it as much as I do. And a huge thank you to everyone who wished me a happy birthday! I got drunk asf, and here's the rough draft I made while tipsy, lolol. Hope you all enjoy~ 😈✨..
★·.·´ɢʀᴏᴛᴇsǫᴜᴇʀɪᴇ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★
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You wouldn't say you were a bad person.
Selfish? Maybe. Impulsive? Absolutely. But "bad" seemed a bit of a stretch.
It's just that, when you saw something you wanted, you didn't hesitate to take it—and, honestly, you had no regrets. Not until now, at least.
Sitting here, surrounded by the smell of old hymn books and dusty incense, listening to some wrinkly old man in a white robe drone on about salvation.
The whole thing was your mother's doing. She had this recurring phase, like clockwork, where she'd get bitten by the "Bible bug."
For a few weeks every year, she was the most devoted Catholic you'd ever seen. She'd call, text, guilt-trip—anything to get her kids back on the straight and narrow, even if just for a Sunday morning.
For the last seven years, you'd managed to dodge it. Moved out at eighteen and never looked back, leaving the duty of church attendance to your three other siblings.
Usually, someone would take one for the team and tag along with Mom until her enthusiasm fizzled out again. But this time, it seemed your luck had run dry—your sister had finally roped you in, and here you were, seven-year streak shattered.
You sighed deeply, eyes half-lidded as they flicked across the stained glass windows—all those saints staring down at you in judgment.
You couldn't help but think of all the things you could be doing right now. Sleeping, for one. Your bed sounded like heaven compared to the hard pew beneath you.
Or brunch with your friends—mimosas and laughter, not these monotone chants and the faint smell of mothballs.
Hell, you could've called Kevin over and gotten dicked down instead of dealing with this—
Your thoughts screeched to a halt, slamming against an unexpected sight.
The old priest, the one whose croaky voice was practically white noise at this point, stepped away from the pulpit. In his place was someone else—someone younger, someone whose presence commanded attention.
A man, tall, dark hair neatly combed back, with a crisp black cassock that hugged his broad shoulders just right. He moved with a sense of ease, like he belonged up there.
And damn, was he handsome. Handsome enough to pull your focus completely, which was a feat in itself given the circumstances.
Your eyes tracked him as he approached the podium, his voice replacing the rasping chant of the old priest. It was smooth, warm, resonant. Nothing like the man you remembered from years ago.
He spoke about community, faith, redemption—but all you could think was how someone like him ended up in a place like this.
You found yourself leaning forward, just slightly, as if drawn in by some invisible force. Your irritation melted away, replaced by a strange curiosity.
Maybe… maybe this wouldn't be the worst way to spend a Sunday after all.
The priest stood quietly at the altar, his figure framed by the soft light filtering through the stained glass windows. A faint scar traced its way down the right side of his forehead, a mark that spoke of some unknown hardship or past misadventure.
He was youthful but with the stillness of someone who’d seen enough to understand patience and humility.
With each breath, the man seemed grounded in his presence, shoulders relaxed but broad, the fabric of his robe resting comfortably against his chest.
His appearance was almost angelic, yet the subtle scar and the weight in his eyes hinted at something more complex beneath the surface—a man of God, perhaps, but one who had walked through fire to find his faith.
"Oh?" You raised an eyebrow in appreciation as you stared at the handsome man up there. You leaned over a bit to your mother, eyes never straying from his figure. "Ma, who's that? Is he new?" you whispered to your mother.
She looked up from her phone, Candy Crush flashing on her screen. You silenced the snort that wanted to come out. Looked like she might retire from church early this year, you thought to yourself, seeing her early signs of disengaging.
She glanced up at the front, giving a quick look before going back to her game. "That's Father Charlie Mayhew. He was brought in about two or three years ago, I think," she murmured absently, barely paying attention.
Father Charlie.
You watched as he spoke, his voice strong yet gentle, his eyes sweeping over the congregation with a genuine warmth. He wasn't like the old priest—this one seemed to genuinely care, as if each word held weight.
You wondered if that scar came from something dramatic, some story worth knowing. Your gaze lingered, taking in the slope of his shoulders, the way his lips moved with each word. Something about him felt... magnetic.
You found yourself sitting up straighter when the two of you made eye contact—he blinked, his words stumbling just slightly, a brief hitch in his otherwise smooth delivery. "I, uh... I apologize," he stuttered, looking off to the side, the tips of his ears turning pink.
You caught the way his eyes shifted nervously, almost as if he was trying to regain his footing. It was subtle, but you could see it—the way he tried to pull himself back together, to get through the rest of the sermon without any more disruptions.
He cleared his throat to continue, "As I was saying... uh, the importance of faith in our lives cannot be overstated. We must always strive to, um, to do what is right, even when it's difficult..." His voice trailed off slightly, but he managed to steady himself, his eyes avoiding yours as he focused on the rest of the congregation.
It made something stir in you, a mix of curiosity and amusement.
You bit down gently on your lower glossed lip, eyes trailing over his form, taking in every subtle detail. The way his hands gripped the edge of the podium, the faint flush creeping up his neck—it was all so telling.
He seemed innocent, reactive.
You smiled to yourself, letting your gaze linger as he continued, noting the way he seemed to avoid looking in your direction now, as if afraid that another glance might trip him up again.
Maybe you should pay a visit to Father Charlie—see if you could break that serene composure of his.
You could already imagine it—the way he might tense up under your touch, the way his voice might crack if you whispered something just a bit too forward.
The thought alone made your heart race, anticipation bubbling up inside you, like something in you just knew—he'd be fun to unravel.
You leaned back in your seat, a slow, satisfied smile playing on your lips. Oh, this was going to be fun.
The sermon ended with a quiet murmur of 'Amen' from the congregation, followed by the gentle shuffle of people rising from the pews.
You glanced around, watching as people slowly made their way to the exits, some stopping to chat while others lingered near the back of the church.
The old priest was nowhere to be seen, but Father Charlie remained, standing at the front as he spoke softly to a small group of parishioners.
Your mother, of course, made a beeline for him. You heard her voice carrying over the hushed conversations, gushing about how moving today’s sermon was.
You rolled your eyes, unable to help yourself, and slowly rose to your feet, making your way over with an almost lazy stride.
As you approached, you could see your mother perk up, her eyes lighting up as she turned to you. "Oh, there she is! Father Charlie, this is my youngest, ____." She gestured towards you, her hand lightly resting on your arm to pull you closer. "You've met my other children over the years."
You could see the change in Father Charlie almost instantly. His posture shifted, his back straightening just a little more, his eyes rounding as they landed on you. He seemed almost like an eager puppy, his gaze bright and attentive.
He quickly pulled his eyes away, turning back to your mother with a polite smile as he nodded. "Yes, I remember," he said, his voice a touch softer. Then he turned to you, his eyes meeting yours as he gave you a gentle smile. "It's nice to finally meet you. I don't think I've seen you here before... ?"
Your mother gave a sort of laughing scoff, waving him off as she caught his attention again. She chuckled, shaking her head. "Oh, Father, the day she willingly comes to church without an incentive is the day the devil is welcomed back into Heaven's gates."
You kept your eyes on Father Charlie, a small smile tugging at your lips as you tilted your head slightly. "Maybe I just hadn't found a good enough reason to come before," you said, your gaze locked on his, your voice light but carrying a hint of something more.
His eyes widened just a little, and you watched as a faint blush spread across his cheeks, his lips parting slightly as he blinked, clearly caught off guard.
Before he could say anything, your mother’s name was called from behind. It was one of her church friends, and in an instant, she was off, waving a quick goodbye and leaving you standing there in front of Father Charlie.
You didn't waste a second, taking a daring step forward, your eyes fixed on him. "So..." you said, letting your gaze roam over him before meeting his eyes again. "You seem awfully young to be running a church like this. I have to say, I'm impressed."
He looked bashful, glancing down for a moment before looking back up at you. "Oh, well, thank you. I just... I do my best," he said, his voice soft, the pink on his cheeks deepening.
You smiled, tilting your head just slightly. "Do you do one-on-one sessions, like other churches do?" you asked, your voice carrying a hint of mischief.
He blinked, clearly confused for a moment, before his eyes widened in realization. "Oh, you mean confessionals?" He nodded quickly, his expression shifting back to something more serious. "Yes, I do. In fact, I was planning on doing confessionals later today, after the services. Not many people take me up on it, but I think it's important to always offer the option."
"Oh, really?" you said, letting your voice drop just a bit, your head tilting to the side as you watched him. You let a small smile curve your lips, your gaze never leaving his. "Well, you wouldn't mind if I came to see you and... confessed, would you, Father?"
He stuttered, his blush deepening as he quickly nodded. "N-No, of course not. You're more than welcome to come by, anytime," he said, his voice a bit shaky.
You smirked, giving him a nod. "Perfect," you said, your voice smooth, before turning on your heel and walking away, back towards where your mother was waiting.
You could feel his gaze on you the entire time, the weight of his eyes almost burning into your back. And you loved it.
This really was going to be fun.
The church grew quieter as the service officially ended, people slowly trickling out while you lingered, waiting for your moment.
Eventually, you made your way to the confessional booth, the small wooden space feeling cramped as you settled in. The air was close, the scent of polished wood and incense hanging heavy.
You could hear Father Charlie shuffling on the other side, the sound of the door closing behind him, the rustle of fabric as he got seated.
You took a breath, letting the silence stretch for a moment before you began. "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned..." you said, your voice soft, but there was an edge to it that you couldn't quite hide.
There was a pause before you heard him clear his throat, his voice coming through the small screen that separated you. "The Lord is always ready to forgive. Please, tell me your sins, my child."
You sighed, leaning back slightly, your fingers brushing against the hem of your dress. "I fear I desire a man that is just out of my reach," you said, your voice carrying a hint of frustration. "It's wrong for me to want him... but I can't seem to help myself."
There was a moment of silence, and you could almost picture the look on his face—concerned, earnest, wanting to help. His voice was gentle as he responded. "Desire can be difficult to control, but it is not inherently sinful. It is what we choose to do with that desire that matters. You must pray for guidance, ask for strength... and remember that God understands our struggles."
You hummed softly, your eyes half-lidded as you listened to him, but your mind was drifting. His voice was soothing, and you found yourself imagining what it would be like if things were different.
If there wasn't a screen between you.
If you could reach out, touch him, feel that innocence melt away under your fingers.
Your hand trailed down your side, your fingers brushing over your thigh as you let out a soft sigh.
His voice cut through your thoughts, sounding a bit uncertain. "Sister ____... are you alright? Do you hear me?"
You smiled to yourself, your mind made up. You leaned closer to the screen, your voice dropping to a near whisper. "Father," you began, your tone coy, "I must confess... I find it difficult to focus when you're speaking. You have such a... soothing voice."
His breath caught audibly, and you could almost hear the way he was struggling to gather himself. "W-What do you mean, sister?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly, laced with confusion.
"It makes me think... sinful thoughts."
You could hear the slight hitch in his breath, the rustle of fabric as he shifted. "S-sister," he stammered, clearly taken aback. "This... this is not appropriate."
You ignored his protest, your voice growing softer, more intimate. "You know, Father, I've always heard that confession is good for the soul. And right now... I think there's only one thing that could truly absolve me of these desires." You let the words hang in the air, knowing exactly what you were implying.
"Sister, this... this isn't..." His voice was shaky now, the uncertainty clear. "I don't think—"
"Come get me, Father," you whispered, your tone daring, challenging him. "You wouldn't leave me like this, would you?"
There was silence for a long moment, and then you heard it—the slow shuffling as he moved. The sound of his door opening, the soft creak of the confessional booth as he stepped out.
You pushed your own door open, stepping out into the dimly lit church. Father Charlie was standing there, his head downcast, his face flushed a deep red. He looked like he wanted to say something, but no words came out, his eyes flickering up to meet yours before darting away again.
You took a step towards him, your movements slow, deliberate—like a predator closing in on its prey. His breath hitched as you approached, his shoulders tensing. He cleared his throat, his voice barely above a whisper. "Sister, I... this isn't right. We shouldn't—"
You reached out, your fingers brushing against the front of his chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his breath beneath your touch. You let your hand slide down, your voice a low purr. "Father," you purred, your eyes locking onto his, "I want you to take me somewhere... push me to a higher calling, yeah?"
His eyes widened, the pupils dilating as he stared at you, his lips parting in shock. For a moment, he seemed frozen, and then, almost as if the word was pulled from him, he whispered, "Okay..."
His hand was trembling slightly as he reached for yours, and you let him lead you out of the main church area, his eyes flicking nervously around to make sure no one was watching. He led you down a dim hallway, stopping at a small door that opened into a cramped janitor's closet.
The second the door clicked shut behind you, you were on him.
You pushed him back against the wall, your lips crashing against his. He gasped, and you took advantage, licking into his mouth, tasting the hint of mint on his tongue as a low groan rumbled from your throat. His hands hesitated for a moment before resting on your waist, his touch light, unsure.
You deepened the kiss, feeling the way he shivered beneath your touch, your hands pushing up under his cassock, fingers skimming over the hard lines of his abdomen. His muscles tensed under your fingertips, a shudder running through him as he let out a shaky breath.
You pulled back, just enough to see his face in the low light, and he chased your lips, leaning forward as if he couldn't stand the sudden loss of contact.
You let out a dark chuckle, your hands coming up to cup his flushed cheeks, squeezing gently. His face was a deep shade of red, his eyes half-lidded, his breath coming in short, uneven pants. He looked almost dazed, completely overwhelmed, and it only made your smile widen.
Your thumb grazed over his plump bottom lip, pressing gently before dipping just inside his mouth. His eyes fluttered, his tongue flicking out hesitantly to brush against your thumb before retreating. You let out a soft sigh, a hint of a teasing smile tugging at your lips. "Oh?" you murmured, raising an eyebrow, your gaze fixed on him.
Charlie swallowed hard, his eyes locked onto yours, his breathing ragged. You stepped closer, rising onto your tiptoes, your lips just barely grazing his as you spoke. "You did so well during the sermon, Father," you whispered, your voice low and dripping with suggestion. "It makes me wonder... what could such a blessed mouth do somewhere else?"
His breath hitched, his eyes widening slightly, but he didn’t pull away. You gripped his shoulder, your fingers digging in just enough to make him shiver, and tugged him downwards. "On your knees," you said, your tone commanding, leaving no room for hesitation.
Slowly, almost as if in a trance, Charlie sank to his knees, his eyes never leaving yours. His gaze was filled with a mix of confusion, desire, and something almost like reverence, and it sent a thrill through you.
You watched as he knelt before you, his lips parted, his chest rising and falling with each shaky breath. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the part of him that knew this was wrong, that wanted to resist—but the desire was stronger, and he couldn't bring himself to stop.
You smiled, running your fingers through his hair, your touch surprisingly gentle. "That's it," you murmured, your voice softening just a fraction. "Such a good Father... doing exactly what you're told."
You took a step back, your eyes never leaving his as you moved to the nearest wall, leaning against it comfortably.
With slow, deliberate movements, your hands reached down, unzipping your mini skirt and letting it slide down your legs, pooling around your ankles. You made a show of it, your fingers tracing along your thighs, sliding over your hips, and letting out a soft sigh as you watched him.
Charlie's eyes widened, his gaze following every movement, his lips parted, his breath catching in his throat. The flush on his face deepened, his eyes locked onto you with something like awe, mingled with pure, unfiltered desire.
You smirked, lifting one hand and curling your fingers in a come-hither motion. He hesitated only for a moment before slowly beginning to crawl towards you, his eyes never breaking away from yours.
The sight sent a thrill through you, a shiver of excitement running up your spine. He reached you, his hands carefully coming up to rest on your legs, his touch light, almost reverent.
His fingers traced along your calves, moving upwards with a hesitant slowness that made you release a shaky sigh, your back arching slightly as his touch grew bolder.
His hands were trembling as they reached your hips, his fingers brushing against the edge of your underwear. He swallowed hard, his gaze flicking up to meet yours as if silently asking for permission.
You gave a small nod, and he let out a shaky breath, his fingers hooking into the waistband and slowly slipping your underwear down, his eyes fixed on you the entire time.
Once they were off, he shifted closer, his breath ghosting over your bare skin. He surprised you by gently lifting one of your legs, settling it over his shoulder as he pulled you closer, his face inches away from your most intimate parts.
He let out a deep, almost pornographic groan as he leaned in, taking a slow, deep breath, as if breathing you in. The sound sent a jolt through you, your fingers tightening in his hair.
Charlie looked up at you one more time, his eyes searching, as if asking for final permission.
You smiled, your fingers sliding through his hair before giving a gentle but firm scratch along his scalp, your silent approval. He closed his eyes, letting out a shaky sigh before leaning in.
At first, his movements were hesitant, his tongue slipping out to give an experimental swipe. He was sloppy, uncoordinated, his lack of experience clear, but there was a determination in the way he moved, as if desperate to please.
You let out a soft hum, the sound encouraging him, and he grew a little more confident, his tongue pressing more firmly. He licked a long stripe up, his tongue swirling at the top, and you couldn't help the small smile that tugged at your lips.
"That's it, Father," you murmured, your voice a soft purr. "You're doing such a good job."
The praise seemed to light something in him, a low groan vibrating against you as he pushed in closer. The sound made you gasp, your back arching slightly as the vibrations sent a rush of pleasure through you, your fingers tightening in his hair.
He grew bolder, his tongue delving deeper, slipping inside you as he began to eat you out like a man starved. He was messy, the wet sounds filling the small space, his lips and tongue moving with increasing fervor, as if the more he tasted, the more he craved.
He bullied his tongue into you, his nose brushing against you as he lost himself in the act, his hands gripping your hips tightly, holding you against him as he worked.
You bit down on your lower lip, trying to keep quiet, but the soft, wet sounds filled the small space, making it impossible to ignore.
Your hand moved up, your teeth sinking into the back of it as you stifled a moan, your thighs trembling as he continued. His tongue moved with determination, pressing deeper, swirling before retreating, then focusing on your most sensitive spot.
When his lips closed around your clit, giving a particularly hard suck, your vision blurred, and stars burst behind your eyelids. Your back arched, your body pressing against his face as the waves of pleasure rolled over you, your breath coming in ragged gasps.
Your thighs shook as you slowly came down, your body relaxing slightly against the wall. You let out a shaky breath, your fingers still tangled in his hair, tugging gently. You gave Charlie a small shove, pushing him back just enough.
He hesitated, his tongue giving one last languid lick, followed by a reluctant suck before he finally pulled away, his lips glistening, his breath coming in low, heavy pants. His bottom face was a mess, his eyes half-lidded, dazed as he looked up at you.
You leaned down, your fingers cupping the bottom of his face, your thumb brushing over his flushed cheek as you gave him a swift peck on the corner of his lips. He blinked, his eyes widening slightly, a blush deepening across his face.
Straightening up, you reached down, picking up your discarded thong, folding it neatly before slipping it into the pocket of his cassock. He stared at you, his lips parted, his breathing still uneven.
"Thank you, Father~" you purred, your voice dripping with satisfaction. You watched as his blush deepened even more, his eyes darting away from yours. "You know," you continued, your tone teasing, "I might just have to come back for confession more often."
He swallowed hard, his eyes flicking back up to meet yours, a mix of confusion and something darker swirling in them. You smiled, giving him a wink before turning on your heel, striding out of the closet, leaving him kneeling there, his breath still shaky, his face still flushed.
As you walked away, a satisfied smile playing on your lips, you couldn't help but think that maybe church wasn't going to be so bad after all.
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A/N: hehehe, dont mind me, just wanted to see charlie's and y/n relationship in reversal...
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daincrediblegg · 8 months ago
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no you know what I'm going to scream about the stuff I talked about in the tags of this post publicly
I'm tired of the well-meaning "don't feel bad if your work only gets 20 notes your genius is what counts and do it for you!" bullshit. I've had a good handful of friends who have straight up DEACTIVATED in recent months because their work was not getting reblogged AT ALL. No, it wasn't from lack of not being well-liked, no it wasn't from lack of trying to make sure it was getting out there to the people they knew would engage with it. It was because no matter how much they were praised privately for their work, when push came to shove, absolutely NOBODY reblogged it and gave it the audience that it was due, and I'm tired of people shoving the "unsung genius" narrative as an excuse for it. Nothing excuses that. And the boop event really proved that.
because I know given the opportunity, indiscriminately pressing a button (sometimes 10 thousand times, as I did) is not beyond this website's capability. y'all loved doing that. and look at what it wrought. nothing but love and affection and happiness. just from a couple of quick clicks of a little paw button. sure. nobody knew who you booped but the other person (which is how likes used to work on this website, btw). there was an element of anonymity to it. but that is kind of the core of this website that no other social media platform still has: the ability to be anonymous. and hyper-curating a blog on here like you might on twitter or instagram to project an image is simply not viable. and hey. you wanna know a secret: literally nobody cares what you post or whether it goes with the "theme" of your blog or not. yeah. I know. CRAZY concept in this day and age. but literally. I myself have reblogged things that have had nothing to do with whatever I am currently fixated by and you know what happened to my follower count? not a damn thing. in fact, I actively try to reblog things specifically BECAUSE it's my friends who made them (even though I'm not always good at KEEPING UP WITH HOW MUCH THEY POST @prismatica-the-strange will NEVER GO UNRECOGNIZED by me).
And you know what fucking sucks? I have to deal with this too. surprise right? you ever wonder why I reblog fics or art I post like 20 times the day that I post them? do you ever wonder why I ask about tag lists and beg for asks all the time? IT'S BECAUSE EVEN I GET LIKE. 5 LIKES ON THE THINGS I POST. AND THE REST OF THE REBLOGS ARE MINE SO I CAN MAKE SURE THAT PEOPLE WHO WANT TO SEE WHAT I MAKE GET TO SEE IT. and I say that knowing that I'm certainly not an unpopular blog, or an unpopular writer. I know that people love the stories that I create. Hell, half of the people that I've talked to about lady terror have told me that they consider her to be canon (AND EVEN SOME!! THOUGHT SHE WAS!!! WITHOUT EVEN HAVING WATCHED THE SHOW! WHICH IS STILL SO SO WILD TO ME!!!) But especially in the last 4 years (which really dates this phenomenon), my posts, no matter how well received they've been amongst people I've talked to about them directly, I still go into the notes and at least half (often more than half) are MY reblogs to make sure people saw what I posted. and it happens every single time, and I can't tell you how much it crushes me considering that it used to be that I would be able to post it only once, and people would reblog it sometimes even HUNDREDS of times.
It's not about popularity. it never has been. it's not about anxiety. or shifting website cultures. even if you lurk, the simple fact is, that if you want people to keep making what you love. you have to reblog. your theme won't suffer because you reblogged a fanfiction that you really admire. your posting won't be ruined because you reblogged some fanart from someone in a different fandom. really. I promise. and if people do unfollow you for that? who needs em. followers come and go but you should NEVER have to cater to them. on this website it has ALWAYS been the other way around. lean into it. make it yours. put stuff you ACTUALLY WANT to be seen and that you love and appreciate on your blog. no matter how old it is, how new it is, no matter how niche or off-theme it is.
so please. if you really want to show your appreciation for someone's work? you reblog. it's really as easy as that. check the tags. add some when you reblog if you like. but please for the love of god reblog. it's as easy as booping and even more rewarding for the people who you reblog from. if you want to let someone know that their work is genius and appreciate it? show it. reblog. then DM them if you're too nervous to say what you want to say but not in a public forum. but for christ's sake. REBLOG.
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emberwhite · 10 months ago
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I spent the last 11 months working with my illustrator, Marta, to make the children's book of my dreams. We were able to get every detail just the way I wanted, and I'm very happy with the final result. She is the best person I have ever worked with, and I mean, just look at those colors!
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I wanted to tell that story of anyone's who ever felt that they didn't belong anywhere. Whether you are a nerd, autistic, queer, trans, a furry, or some combination of the above, it makes for a sad and difficult life. This isn't just my story. This is our story.
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I also want to say the month following the book's launch has been very stressful. I have never done this kind of book before, and I didn't know how to get the word out about it. I do have a small publishing business and a full-time job, so I figured let's put my some money into advertising this time. Indie writers will tell you great success stories they've had using Facebook ads, so I started a page and boosting my posts.
Within a first few days, I got a lot of likes and shares and even a few people who requested the book and left great reviews for me. There were also people memeing on how the boy turns into a delicious venison steak at the end of the book. It was all in good fun, though. It honestly made made laugh. Things were great, so I made more posts and increased spending.
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But somehow, someway these new posts ended up on the wrong side of the platform. Soon, we saw claims of how the book was perpetuating mental illness, of how this book goes against all of basic biology and logic, and how the lgbtq agenda was corrupting our kids.
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This brought out even more people to support the book, so I just let them at it and enjoyed my time reading comments after work. A few days later, then conversation moved from politics to encouraging bullying, accusing others of abusing children, and a competition to who could post the most cruel image. They were just comments, however, and after all, people were still supporting the book.
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But then the trolls started organizing. Over night, I got hit with 3 one-star reviews on Amazon. My heart stopped. If your book ever falls below a certain rating, it can be removed, and blocked, and you can receive a strike on your publishing account. All that hard work was about to be deleted, and it was all my fault for posting it in the wrong place.
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I panicked, pulled all my posts, and went into hiding, hoping things would die down. I reported the reviews and so did many others, but here's the thing you might have noticed across platforms like Google and Amazon. There are community guidelines that I referenced in my email, but unless people are doing something highly illegal, things are rarely ever taken down on these massive platforms. So those reviews are still there to this day. Once again, it's my fault, and I should have seen it coming.
Luckily, the harassment stopped, and the book is doing better now, at least in the US. The overall rating is still rickety in Europe, Canada, and Australia, so any reviews there help me out quite a lot. I'm currently looking for a new home to post about the book and talk about everything that went into it. I also love to talk about all things books if you ever want to chat. Maybe I'll post a selfie one day, too. Otherwise, the book is still on Amazon, and the full story and illustrations are on YouTube as well if you want to read it for free.
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greenwitchfromthewoods · 4 months ago
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the anniversary. l Joel Miller
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Summary:  he forgot about a very important date for you
Warnings:  +18, smut, angst, unprotected sex (don't do that), fingering, oral sex (f receiving), cum play, breeding kink or just talking about kids
 A/N:  somehow it came out the same way. I hope you like it. Thank you for every feedback, it means a lot to me.
The car quietly pulled into the driveway and after a moment the engine and the lights were turned off. He didn't get out right away, he just reached for the phone lying on the passenger seat and glanced at the last message Tommy had sent him.
He cursed quietly under his breath. This renovation had been causing them problems from the start and they wanted to finish it as soon as possible, but Joel's blood pressure rose every time he saw or heard that something would extend their work again. This time it was the same.
"Fuck." he hissed under his breath, resigned.
His gaze rolled over the quiet area immersed in sleep. It was already around midnight. Once again he had spent way too much time at work.
The car door slammed shut and his steps headed towards the door. The lights inside were dimmed, you had left them on just enough so he could safely move around the interior.
His gaze wandered to the couch in the living room, he was probably secretly hoping to see you there, but it was so late that he knew it was a foolish hope. You worked too, and you looked after the house and were there for Sarah while he was at work, which was... for too long lately.
His legs took him to the kitchen and the fridge, but when he opened the door he froze for a moment. There were several containers full of food on the shelves, and he definitely hadn't seen them there this morning. The cardboard box from your favourite cake shop looked completely untouched. And that bottle of champagne.
A cold shiver ran down his spine. Joel swallowed hard, feeling his throat tighten and a heavy stone sinking into his stomach.
Something was wrong. Very wrong.
More pieces of the puzzle started fitting together in his head. Fresh flowers in the living room, candles standing on the kitchen counter.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck."
When his eyes stopped at the calendar hanging on the wall he knew he had fucked everything up.
His hand went to his hair and he ruffled it wondering how angry you could be at him. Joel would probably rather you were angry because the disappointment in your eyes would kill him.
He couldn't hide in the kitchen forever though so he headed upstairs. He glanced through the ajar door to Sarah's room. Her bed was empty. That's right, for a few days you both told him that she would be staying at a friend's.
Another stone fell into his stomach.
The bedroom you shared was dark, but a small lamp was on by the bed, your silhouette was outlined under the sheets. This view was one of his favorites. You were sleeping quietly breathing.
Joel took off his shoes and shirt, throwing it towards the laundry basket. He climbed onto the bed and gently kissed your shoulder, then once again until you purred quietly.
"J-Joel?" your voice was quiet and sleepy "Is something wrong? What time is it?"
"Late. Midnight or something." he replied, resting his arms on either side of you "Baby, I'm so fucking sorry..."
You groaned, hiding your face in your hands so he wouldn't see your embarrassment. You hoped that this conversation wouldn't happen, that you'd forget and go back to normal. But Joel didn't like unfinished business.
"I felt really stupid." you finally spoke up "For a moment I even wondered if I hadn't mixed up the dates. So I found the marriage certificate…"
"I messed everything up. I remembered that, at least at the beginning of the week."
"Yeah, I know. You worked a lot." your hand stroked his scratchy cheek "At least we have so much food that we don't have to cook tomorrow. And Sarah will be really happy about the cake I bought."
"That's not fair. You worked too, and then you came home, did all these things, and remembered our anniversary."
"Multitasking."
"I told you, you're better than Wonder Woman." you giggled, and that brought him relief "I'm so sorry, baby. I really am. I fucked it all up."
"You fucked up." You nodded, but your smile softened it "But we can still do something about it."
"Yeah?"
A sly smile appeared on his lips as your body settled beneath him. Your hands slid gently over his chest to his soft belly where your nails scratched it pleasantly.
He leaned down and his lips brushed yours, nibbling gently before his warm tongue slipped inside, caressing you pleasantly. A quiet groan escaped your throat.
You couldn't remember the last time Joel kissed you like that. The last few weeks had been quite hard, his late homecomings didn't make anything easier. In the evenings, you both fell into bed and before anything could happen, you fell asleep deeply.
Now, you had time and the house just for yourselves.
"Joel?" you murmured quietly as his lips moved to your neck. "Maybe you're tired, huh? I don't want you to be unconscious at work tomorrow."
A single movement of his hips and the large bulge hidden in his jeans rubbing against your thigh was a clear answer. He kissed your lips again and then sat up, removing the sheets from you.
"Oh, baby..." he sighed seeing that you were only wearing his shirt and panties "Even if I was on my deathbed I would ask for the opportunity to eat you out."
"God! Miller!" you laughed "What's that supposed to mean?"
"You won't understand." his large hands slid down your thighs squeezing them lightly "It's such a man thing."
His fingers reached for the hem of your panties and he slid them down without much trouble. He spread your thighs apart and you felt the heat flooding your neck. You were totally exposed to him, but Joel always made you feel totally sexy and desired even in a situation like this.
He settled himself between your thighs giving them a few kisses and squeezes. It was like a final countdown to what was about to happen. One, slow lick and the air left your lungs.
"So pretty." Joel mumbled and you bit your lip "I'm a lucky bastard."
You didn't have a chance to respond as his mouth closed over your heat. His tongue teased your button.
"Jesus!"
That was all that could escape your lips as you tried to catch your breath and control your body. Joel made sounds like he planned to eat you out completely and leave you barely alive. Unconsciously, your hips jerked trying to break free from the pleasure his mouth was giving you, but his hands held you tighter to the mattress.
"Stay." he mumbled "You're not going anywhere."
One of your hands tightened on the headboard of the bed and the other tangled in Joel's hair. You felt him slide his tongue into your heated pussy, in and out, his thumb making small circles on your clit. You felt his scratchy stubble on your thighs, his hands pressing you down to the mattress.
"I'm so close...so close..."
"I can feel it, baby. C'mon, let go."
His two thick fingers slid into you without a problem, finding the right spot. You clenched your thighs tighter, but that didn't stop him, his fingers moved faster and faster and after a moment, indescribable pleasure spread through your body.
"Oh my God!" you moaned "Fuck!"
Joel didn’t wait, freed himself from between your legs and unzipped his pants, freeing his hard cock. He gave it a few pumps, his hands were slick with your juices. But it was his eyes that were the most hypnotizing. Those beautiful, brown eyes turned almost black. You knew he wanted you so much.
Not a word was said. His cock touched your pussy and after a moment he easily slid into you, stretching your walls pleasantly. Joel lay on you, pinning you harder to the mattress with the weight of his body. His fingers slid into your hair and his lips crushed yours. You only had time to wrap your legs around his waist before he thrust in for the first time.
His cock pushed in harder and deeper. You wanted to catch your breath, but Joel's mouth was swallowing you and it wasn't until he buried his face in your hair, moaning loudly, that you managed to do it.
You loved it when he made such dirty sounds, but living with a teenager, he had to hold back. Now Joel gave you a real concert.
"You're so tight, baby. So fucking good for me." he moaned in your ear. "I missed that pussy so much. I want to fuck you all night long."
You couldn't answer. No grammatically correct sentence was able to form in your brain. Your pussy took over and the only thing that slipped out from between your lips was:
"Harder, Joel… Fuck me harder."
Joel got up and knelt on the mattress. He threw your legs over his shoulders and held them tight, then began to pound into you harder and harder. Every movement was precise and hit exactly where you needed him. His cock moved hard inside you and you felt yourself getting closer to the edge really fast.
"I'm close, baby!" he panted "Cum for me, I want to feel you."
"Joel..."
"C'mon, baby." His thumb found your clit again and rubbed it hard "Fuck, c'mon!"
Your body arched. You could feel your walls squeeze his cock, the muscles in your legs quivering, but Joel didn't slow down. A few more hard thrusts and he filled you to the brim, a groan of pleasure escaping his throat as he tilted his head back.
"Sweet Jesus..." he mumbled, lowering his arms and letting your legs fall onto the bed, "Fuck, I've missed this so much..."
His cock slid out of you, and some of his seed flowed out of you after it. He watched it for a moment, then his fingers lazily pushed it back in.
"You know..." he began as his eyes moved to your face, "We should start talking about this eventually."
"About what?" you asked.
Joel laid down next to you, sliding down his jeans and laying completely naked, still breathing deeply.
"About kids." he replied calmly, turning his head to face you, "I'm not getting any younger, and I'd really like to have a kid or two with you."
"A kid or two?" you laughed.
"Yeah, why not?" his eyes shone so beautifully when he spoke about it "I would like to see your belly grow full of our baby. You will be even more beautiful. Besides, you are a wonderful mother to Sarah, she adores you. Would you like that? Because if you are not ready, baby, we can wait with it. We still have time."
You stroked his cheek, smiling fondly at him.
"I think I am ready, sweetie. It would be a wonderful journey together, don't you think?"
"Definitely."
You moved closer to him and snuggled into his arms. You were happy and you didn’t want to give up this moment for anything in the world.
☆☆☆
Thank you for your time.
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obsesssedblerd · 4 months ago
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please please please, I need a part 2 to your loving dad Toji/ Preschool teacher reader fic💖💖It’s so good😭
"Who's your new teacher?" (Pt. 2)
Synopsis: Toji gets the phone number of Megumi's preschool teacher that he's been crushing on. [Pt. 1 here]
Contains: plenty of fluff, crack, megumi is four, tsumiki is seven, toji is still toji (but like he's soft for his kids and he takes care of them), reader is a preschool teacher, reader and toji are around the same age, toji being soft and a little shy, mentions of shiu, everyone is happy bc i said so
a/n: sorry that this took a while! also, barely proof-read. sorry for mistakes!
update: part 3 here
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3:30pm, which means that it’s about time for the children to get picked up from preschool. Until they’re picked up by their parents, they run out any additional energy they have on the playground.
All except one. 
Instead of playing with the other kids, Megumi Fushiguro sits next to you at one of the tables of the playground with his dog plushie occupying the space beside him. He’s quiet, but relaxed and happy as he fills a page in the coloring book you bought for him and only for him. You notice him digging for a green crayon, and you hand one to him. His eyes light up as he accepts it from you. “Thank you,” he says softly. 
You smile at him. “Of course.” Your heart melts when the four year-old returns your smile, then goes back to coloring. Though you enjoyed all of your students, there was no doubt that Megumi was your favorite. According to some of the other teachers, Megumi barely spoke to anyone and always distanced himself. However, he loves being in your presence. He always lets you hold his hand when walking anywhere, or fix his hair,—you still wonder how it’s so spiky—and he talks to you the most. You enjoy his stories about his family, and his love for dogs.
“What are you drawing?” You ask when you notice that he’s drawing on a blank page instead of filling in the lines of the coloring book.
Megumi covers it and pouts slightly. “It’s a surprise. You can’t look until I’m done.” 
“Okay. No problem.” 
“Hi, Gumi! Hi, Ms. [Y/L/N}!” The familiar, happy voice fills your ears, and excitement swirls in your stomach. Tsumiki Fushiguro skips over to the table, putting her backpack down and gently hugging her little brother, careful not to disturb his coloring. Then, she wraps you in a hug, one that you happily receive. “Hello, sweetheart! How was school and soccer practice?” 
“It was fun! We’re going to have a game soon!” 
Your eyes scan the playground. If Tsumiki was here, then that meant that—
“Looking for me?” The low, smooth voice sends a small shiver down your spine.
There he is. 
You turn around and look up at a smirking Toji Fushiguro, who is without a doubt the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life. Tall, muscular, dark hair with a scar on his lip, charming, and so gentle with his two kids. Behind him was his friend, Shiu Kong, who you had seen a couple of times. He would pick up Megumi if Toji was held up at work. 
“Yeah,” you answer as you release Tsumiki and stand up, mirroring his smile. “I was. How was work?” 
Though you enjoyed the activities of your job, this was your favorite part of the day. Nearly every afternoon for the last month and a half, you would spend some quiet time with Megumi during pick-up time, greet Tsumiki when Toji came, then spend at least twenty minutes talking with him while the kids played. A few of your coworkers picked up on how often you were smiling with him, and lightly teased you for having a crush. At first, you denied it, but when you caught yourself daydreaming about him for the umpteenth time while at work, doing chores at home, or before bed, you finally accepted it. 
“Work was fine,” he answers, then gestures to Megumi. “How’d he do today?” 
“He’s perfect, as always.” 
“Done!” Megumi springs up, then stands in-between you and Toji, raising his arms above his head to show you two the picture he was drawing. 
Toji smiles down at his son. “Aw, that’s sweet, Megs. What is it?” 
You look down to see four happy, smiling figures on the paper, and even though you can tell what they are, you still let Megumi explain them. “This one’s me,” he says as he points to the smaller figure with dark hair and t-shirt with a dog on it. Next is the taller girl beside him. “This is Tsumiki!” He tilts the paper towards his sister, who ‘awws’ in response. Then he smiles up at you as he points to the woman. “This is you, and then right here is Papa.” In the drawing, you’re wearing a brightly colored dress and standing next to Toji.
Toji peers down at what Megumi drew, and asks, “Hey, how come my cheeks are pink?” 
Megumi raises a brow, looking up at him in confusion. “Your cheeks are always pink when you’re around Ms. [Y/L/N],” he says matter-of-factly. 
Toji’s eyes widen, and Shiu turns around, doing his best to stifle his laugh. “That’s not— No, they’re not-” As Toji fumbles around his words, you catch it—the faint dust of pink on his cheeks, almost missed due to the sunlight on his face. 
You don’t point out the small detail that you’re also blushing in Megumi’s drawing. 
Toji’s phone buzzes, and he fishes it out to silence the notification. “Crap. We gotta get going. Megumi has a doctor’s appointment.” 
At that, Megumi whines and clutches your hand. “I don’t wanna go, papa.” 
Your heart squeezes at the utter fear in his eyes, and Toji kneels in front of him. “Megs, I promise, there’s no shots this time. It’s just a little check-up to make sure that you’re healthy.” 
You also kneel down, and the small boy wraps his arms around you. “Don’t wanna go,” he repeats, and he sounds like he’s on the verge of tears, “it was scary last time.” 
“Aw, it’s okay, Gumi.” You rub a comforting hand up and down his back, then through his hair. “Your dad wouldn’t lie to you, and he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you. I understand how you’re feeling, though. Doctors can be pretty scary. How about this? Be brave during your check-up, and I’ll have a nice gift for you tomorrow.” 
Megumi looks up at you, and excitement replaces the fear that was in his eyes before. “A gift? What is it?” 
“You’ll have to see. It’s a surprise,” you say, and you watch as he takes a big breath to calm himself. “Okay.” He hugs you once more, and you see a relieved Toji mouth the words, ‘Thank you’ to you. 
As you help Megumi gather his things, you see Toji whispering to Tsumiki, who looks like she can barely contain her excitement. Once she’s ready, she bounces over to you. “Ms. [Y/L/N]?” 
“Yes, sweetheart?” 
“Papa wants to ask for your phone number,” then she lowers her voice to a not-so-quiet-whisper. “But he’s too shy. Also, can you come to my soccer game pretty, pretty pleaseeeee?!” 
Toji lets out a loud, mortified gasp. “Tsumiki, you were supposed to mention the soccer game and then the phone number— oh, my god.” He buries his face in his hand, and this time, Shiu Kong can’t hold back his laugh. 
You also laugh, then pat the top of her head. “I’ll come to your game, Tsumiki. I can’t wait to see you play!” 
“Yay!” She cheers, completely ignoring the fact that her father’s about to die of embarrassment. 
You approach Toji, who bashfully rubs the back of his head. “That completely backfired. I’m so sorry. If you don’t want to, I completely understand-” 
“No, I would love to. Yes to Tsumiki’s game, and yes to giving you my phone number.” 
He hands you his phone, watching you as you put in your number and texting yourself so you had his. You hand it back, then he effortlessly scoops up Megumi. “I’ll text you the details later.” 
“Perfect. See you soon.” 
Toji’s eyes soften, and he uses his free hand to push a strand of your hair out of your face. Your heart pounds fast in your chest, and your cheeks heat. “See you soon, doll,” he says.
You nearly stop breathing at the new nickname. As you wave them all goodbye, you let out a slow, blissful sigh. You got his number. Soon, you’ll be going to Tsumiki’s game, then maybe on a date with him, then—
You snap yourself out of it. Don’t think too far ahead. Focus on now. You can freak out about everything else later. 
Right now, you have to get a present for Megumi when he’s done with his doctor’s appointment.
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tags: @sad-darksoul @binnieonabike @byul9158 @sugurubabe @namjooningera @xxkay15xx @eternallyvenus @chosoyukisgf
sorry if I missed anyone! went based off the replies in part one <3
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hansensgirl · 1 year ago
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☠️ — 𝐒𝐚𝐥𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝
summary. | Steve Rogers and his wife have a precarious arrangement in which she can have as many affairs as she likes, as long as she doesn’t ask for a divorce. But a man like him only has so much patience. And there you are, his child’s babysitter, too sweet to resist.
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pairings. | Dark!Steve Rogers x baby-sitter!fem!reader, Steve Rogers x Peggy Carter (brief), Peggy Carter x numerous OMCs (implied/mentioned).
warnings. | NON/DUB-CON (leaning more towards dubious consent), smut, age gap, Halloween celebrations, deceit, manipulation, Steve is mean to his wife, obsession, possessiveness, implied murder (not the reader), mentions of masturbation (m), fingering (f), kissing, nipple play, Sir kink, mild Daddy kink, creampie, dirty talk, power dynamics/imbalance, praise, mild degradation, pet names (sweetheart, sweetie, honey, baby, love), missionary, rough sex, mentions of exhibitionism, mentions of riding, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!
word count. | ~4.8k
author’s note. | hello! happy belated halloween! i know i’m a bit late—i’m sorry. here’s the dark!steve fic i was talking about. it’s a Deep Water!AU. please enjoy and heed the warnings! thank you @cuttlefjsh for beta-ing and putting up with me! let me know what you think. thank you for reading! taglist: @hansensfics. MINORS DNI! 18+ ONLY
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The leaves fall apart underneath the pace of his feet. The hill slopes downwards, and the branches snap and hit the ground. Steve keeps pushing—keeps running even though he’s long devolved from a jog. The burn in his lungs is beautiful. He’s breathless.
For once, he doesn’t have to think about little Sarah and her mother. He doesn’t have to worry like a housewife, even though he was once the man of the house.
Millions in revenue. Two vacation homes. Endless income. But it’s never enough for her.
When Steve reaches the creek, he stops. The Apple watch on his wrist clocks in an unhealthy amount of steps. Unhealthy for everyone else, at least. He’s always been above average, and now he’s just like the rest.
Another greying head in the sea of a crowd. Another typical client his shrink has with the same old problems—a cheating wife, a midlife crisis.
His phone buzzes, and Steve half-expects a reminder he doesn’t need. But it’s better—so much better than he could ever predict.
It’s you—your name with a heart. His spouse doesn’t even have that—she’s just got her entire government name with “wife” in parentheses.
Hi, Mr. Rogers. Hope you enjoyed your weekend! I wanted to confirm that I’m coming tonight. I texted Mrs. Rogers yesterday, but I haven’t received a reply yet. Sorry to be pushy. I just need to know in time. Thanks, and Happy Halloween! 🎃
He sighs. He’s never understood why you always go to Peggy first, even though you’ve seen her incompetency more than you do your own family. He’ll have a talk with you tonight—while Peggy is out on a date with her latest suitor.
Hey, honey. I hope your weekend is as wonderful as you are. Yes, we’re still on for tonight. Don’t worry about my wife. From now on, just come to me, okay? Be here by 7:00, please. Thanks. Happy Halloween! 👻
Steve replies a few minutes later, but you read his message immediately. The timestamp makes him smile. Soon, the ‘typing’ icon pops up and following it is your message.
Great, thank you so much! See you then :)
You even leave a ‘heart’ on his text message; he does the same to yours. A sigh escapes the older man’s chest. His heart has returned to its regular rate, and the sweat on his back has cooled.
The scene before him is gorgeous—but doesn’t even hold a candle to your beauty. The thought of you is more addictive than any illicit substance. It calms him down when he needs to and riles him up at the worst times.
Steve says it’s not fair. Peggy shouldn't have all the fun with her boyfriends—even when her husband gets rid of them quicker than need be. It’s exhausting to deviate from law enforcement for a woman who doesn’t care about her own family.
She gets to devise grand schemes and say mean words to him. She doesn’t bother with her own daughter. She doesn’t lift a finger or pay for a thing with money she earned. Steve has to live in the shadows—and he’s tired of it.
The almost 50-year-old man follows his usual trail back home. Sirens pass behind him, heading toward some emergency that he undoubtedly has nothing to do with. Not this time, at least.
He feels like a dog in the manger. Everyone can have Peggy (to a certain extent), but he can’t have anyone himself.
Fake cobwebs and pumpkins sit outside houses on each side of the road. It’s the spookiest night of the year, yet you have no plans. No parties to attend with some stupid little boyfriend who wouldn’t know how to fuck you the way he would.
When Steve unlocks the front door, he finds his wife’s heels strewn on the floor and his daughter watching cartoons in the living room. He kisses Sarah’s head and ensures she’s eaten the entirety of her breakfast. He tried his best with ghost-shaped pancakes, though they turned out more like blobs than anything. She doesn’t mind at all.
Sarah’s a brainiac, her new hobby being those kits that teach you how to hook wires into potatoes and other vegetables. Steve applauds her creations every time she shows them off, noting the little technological genius in her that he must’ve contributed to.
That is, if he’s her biological father.
The television screen plays her choice of cartoons, with a Halloween theme for the special day. He smiles when she laughs before heading upstairs.
Peggy has the largest room with the nicest furniture. She spends little time there unless she’s getting ready to go out or recovering from a hangover.
Steve knocks on her door. Despite there being no answer, he unlocks it and lets himself in. His wife is wide awake, eye makeup smudged a bit, but she’s wearing her signature jeans with a tank top.
She turns around and smiles at the sight of him. “What do you think?” she asks, gesturing to the costume she has laid out.
It’s a vampire—that’s as much as he gathers. The little voice in his head tells him how fitting it is—Peggy has sucked the life out of him for the last seven years.
“Perfect,” Steve tells her, giving her his most forced smile, and they both know she sees right through it.
“Good. And what are you going as?” she questions, turning her back to him. He genuinely contemplates this for a second.
For the last few years, he’s always worn a cheap cape and said he’s a superhero. But he’s tired of the same thing all the time.
“I’m not sure. I’ll come up with something, though. What time are you leaving?” Steve asks. “Oh, probably around six. Don’t wait up for me. You’ll take Sarah trick-or-treating, right?” Peggy smiles, unwilling to take ‘no” for an answer.
Steve says nothing and simply leaves. He takes his phone out of his pocket—sleek screen and a photo of you and Sarah as one of his wallpapers—and pulls up his conversation with you.
Hey, hon. Do you mind coming a bit earlier? 6:30 will do.
He doesn’t even have to wait for your reply.
Sure! Do you want me to stay the night, too? I don’t mind.
Always diligent. Always a sweetheart.
Please do. The door will be unlocked.
You give his message a thumbs-up, and he sighs.
Tonight will be the night. Tonight, he’ll finally get what he wants, and no one can stop him. Not even you.
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You give the door a knock three times, even though you’re more than welcome to simply enter. It feels wrong, though. Too familiar, too casual.
Halloween is one of your favourite holidays. It’s a day full of excitement and creativity, and the month leading up to it is terrific. The turning leaves and the cold weather that lets you wear your coziest sweaters. The candy is the cherry on top of the entire delicacy.
You’ve never been on for extravagant costumes due to your procrastination. Tonight, you’re an angel. You don an all-white get-up; a lace dress, sheer tights, and matching shoes. You have a borrowed halo on your head and floppy wings on your back. It’s the best you can do for now.
Steve opens the door a few moments later, and he’s wearing a black suit. His hair is gelled, and he has a toothy grin—a change from his usual scowl. You smile at the sight of him.
“Happy Halloween!” you cheer, and he laughs. “Happy Halloween, sweetheart. What are you supposed to be? The devil?” he jokes. “Hardy-har-har. I’m an angel. But what are you? A CEO?” you ask, raking your eyes up and down his body.
The older man basks in your attention, his ears burning red.
“Actually, I’m a groom. Something different from the superhero thing, you know? It was the only thing I could come up with,” he sheepishly admits, and you wave his shyness away. “I love that! I never see anyone do something simple yet unique. But no decorations?”
You glance back at his front lawn and see nothing but withered flowers and yellow leaves from the neighbour’s over-arching tree. His porch simply has a bowl of candy with a threatening “TAKE ONE (1)” sign, assumingly written by Sarah.
“Nope. But there’s always next year!” he reassures. You giggle and nod your head. Your cheeks burn from smiling so much. Do you find him amusing? Or is it forced? Steve has numerous questions running through his mind, some exciting the butterflies in the attic that is his stomach, and some boiling his blood.
“C’mon in. No jacket? You must be freezing. You’re better than that, honey,” he chides like the father he is. He locks the door behind you—chain and all. “I didn’t think it’d be this cold,” you admit, removing your shoes. Steve takes them from you and places them on the rack where Peggy’s usual ankle boots would be.
You note the absence of her items and the lack of noise from the television. You don’t pay them much mind.
“Ah, rookie mistake. If you want, you can borrow a jacket from me,” he offers, picking up a stray black feather from the floor. You set your small backpack on the bottom step and follow his lead.
“So… What’s Sarah’s costume? She kept talking about being a minion, and then a cow, so I’m not too sure,” you laugh, and Steve does the same. “Peggy wanted her to be one of those Mario characters, but you know Sarah. Tonight, she’s Albert Einstein. Including the wig, of course.”
When you enter the clean living room, you expect to see her adorable face dressed as the notorious physicist. But she’s not there—and neither are the family photos.
“Um, sir, where is she?” you question, and he gestures to one of the sofas. You take a seat and wait for his return. He comes back with two drinks and hands you one of them. “Sarah is at her grandma’s. Peggy is at one of those parties she always goes to,” Steve coolly explains.
“Oh, are we going there? Or do you want me to stay back and give candy out?” You take a sip of your drink—a cherry limeade you once raved about to him. The sparkling water fizzles on your tongue. “No, she’ll be going trick-or-treating with her cousins.”
There’s a beat. A moment. And it lasts for a while.
“Uh, so what am I doing here?” you query. “Sweetheart. I’m a bit disappointed. You probably think that’s all I want you here for, don’t you? C’mon, you’re more than a babysitter to me.”
Steve places emphasis on his last word. “I’m sorry, Mr. Rogers, but I really don’t understand what you’re implying,” you profess, downing more of your drink out of sheer nervousness. Are you being fired? Are they moving? Did you do something wrong?
“Oh, honey, c’mere,” he says, even though he comes to you. He moves from his position across from you—standing tall in his full, towering height. Steve sits down next to you and places his large, warm hand on your cold left thigh. “Don’t be scared. M’not gonna hurt you. You’re not in trouble,” he says in a low tone.
When he’s this close to you, you can see the details of his face entirely. Whenever you’ve tried to admire him from afar, it’s like he knows when you’re looking.
“You’re so sweet… So pretty. I bet you’re nice and soft, too, hm? And you’ll be a good girl for me?” he asks, and you furrow your brows. You open your mouth to say something to him, but you’re quickly shut up with a searing kiss.
Steve presses his lips against yours, and it’s better than anything he could have ever imagined. The fantasies he’s had during those late nights or showers with his fist wrapped around his cock don’t even compare.
He takes charge, pushing his tongue inside your mouth and exploring within. His strong hands scoop you into his lap, one of them holding the back of your head. You lean back as Steve’s forwardness dominates you. You’re not sure what to do, so you place your palms on his shoulders and use a bit of force to try to push him away.
The married man doesn’t budge. It’s getting hard to breathe, and you feel like he’s sucked the air out of your lungs. You sink your teeth down lightly on what you think is his tongue, and he hisses as he pulls away.
“Sir– We can’t do this. It isn’t right. I– I mean, you’re my boss, and you have a wife—and poor Sarah, she doesn’t deserve this–”
“Fuck Peggy. Do you really think she cares? I don’t love her, never have. I only love you, darling. Now, what you just di–”
“Love me? Mr. Rogers, I think you’re mistaken. Maybe it’s just because we’re alone, or you and Peggy have been distant, but you don’t love me, Sir. I won’t mention this to anyone, I swear. And I’ll find another job if you’d like,” you breathlessly explain, shaking your head.
Steve shushes you with a snarl. “You’re not leaving me.” His voice is stern, and his tone says it all—there’s no arguing. “Please,” you try to get off the older man’s lap, but he holds onto you tightly. “We’re perfect for each other, honey. Don’t you see? Sarah loves you, and you love her. And look! I’m your groom, and you’re my angelic wife,” he exclaims, pulling the halo and ripping the wings off.
You gasp at his strength and audacity. You’d try to fight him, but you know you’d end up more hurt than anything. “Please don’t make this difficult,” he demands, adding your name. The mention makes you flinch, as he rarely says it.
“Look at those eyes… All blown out. I bet you’re soaking, aren't you?” Steve asks, but you don’t reply. His blue irises seem much darker in the dim lighting. His pupils are wide, and it’s like looking at a man who’s been possessed. “You’re probably making a mess of your panties, and we’ve barely even started. Does that always happen when you’re around me? Gosh, I bet you smell so sweet.”
His words make you whimper, and he smiles. “Oh, and look at those perfect tits,” he hums, groping them. Your nipples are stiff as peaks, and the rough touch from Steve has you shuddering. “Pl– Please,” you beg as he pulls at the nubs. The pain teeters on pleasure, and you squeeze your thighs to put an end to the thrumming at your core.
“‘Please,’ what, sweetie? Hm?”
“Please, Sir,” you whisper.
The title makes him groan. “Fuck, you don’t know how long I’ve been wanting you,” Steve expresses. You don’t want to know. “Ever since we met… D’you remember that floral dress you wore? That you kept pulling up? God, I wanted to take you right there…”
You remember that day all too well. Seeing Mr. Rogers in all his glory was riveting, and the slight crush you developed lives on. Now—you’re not sure. Your brain is a mess, and you can’t think straight.
Your boss lifts you up bridal style, and he doesn’t let this go unnoticed. “See? We were meant for each other, honey. And we don’t even need a wedding.”
He sets you down on the bed in the room on the main floor. You’ve stayed here from time to time when Peggy likes to come out at two in the morning, and Steve is beyond worried for her.
Was it all a farce? You remember those times and how he never called her or insisted on picking her up.
Steve’s hands pull at your cheap dress, and he rips it down the middle. You regret your choice of not wearing a bra, but either way, it would’ve done nothing.
He cups your breasts, and you moan at the touch. He latches his mouth onto one nipple as he plays with the other. His mouth is skilled—his tongue flicking and teeth slightly grazing the sensitive skin.
Mr. Rogers’ fingers are just as talented. They pinch, pull, and twist at your other peak simultaneously. He switches eventually, and you’re a puddle beneath the imposing man.
Your back is arched slightly, and you’re practically pushing your chest into his face, and he chuckles. “So desperate. You need me so badly, don’t you?” he says, nodding his head and smiling when you mimic him for a split second. “Atta girl—so good for me.”
Steve pulls back, and you whine. He soothes you and pulls his jacket off. You can see the ripples of muscle beneath the white collared shirt. He unbuckles his belt with swiftness. You gnaw on your bottom lip despite its swollenness.
Soon, he’s back on you. Your boss hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties, and he pulls them down your legs, admiring the strings of slick that break from the distance. He pushes the cloth into his pocket, and you clench when you think of the things he’ll do with it later on.
In your mind is a tiny voice that chides your every wrongdoing—how you haven’t fought back as much as you should. But there’s a louder one that was once lovesick over the married man before you, and it’s far more convincing.
Steve spreads your legs and curses at the sight of your sopping cunt. You involuntarily clench from the exposure. “You’ve got such a pretty pussy, baby,” he murmurs, leaning over you. One arm keeps him up, and the other bends your knees, giving him better access.
His fingers slide against your folds, collecting wetness as he caresses your lips. You let out a pleasured sigh, secretly wishing he would stop tormenting you and just get it over with. “So sensitive, too. I bet you’ll make such a mess on my cock.”
You never knew Steve could have such a filthy mouth—and God, do his words have your head spinning.
He quickly finds your swollen, throbbing clit and lightly touches it. The sensations on your little pearl are mild, but they’re enough to have you writhing beneath Steve. He draws light circles with the tips of his fingers. Your mouths brush against each other, and he teases you until you’re whispering pleas against his lips.
“Shh… It’s okay, love,” he reassures. Once he knows he has you worked up enough, Steve pushes the first digit into your pussy. The intrusion has you gasping, which turns into a whimper when he shoves another in. “Lookatcha, honey. You’re takin’ my fingers like a champ. This cunt is so tight, though. I’m really gonna have to stretch ya to fit my cock in there.”
The idea of his large cock barely fitting inside you makes your muscles involuntarily constrict against Steve’s fingers.
It takes a moment for you to adjust to the intrusion, though your walls welcome him like a familiar friend. His fingers are longer and thicker than yours, and with ease, he reaches that sweet spot most boys your age miss.
Eventually, Steve begins to fuck you on his hand. His digits slide in and out of you with ease as he picks up the pace. The skin glistens from your slick, and it’s a sight to behold. He creates a scissor motion with his two fingers every now and then, stretching you out while having you at his mercy.
It doesn’t take long for your moans to get louder while your face forms a frown of pleasure. The squelching sound of your cunt and that build-up just above your core are tell-tale signs that you’re about to come. “Oh, sir…!” you wail, and Steve picks up the pace.
“I can feel that cunt clenching on me, honey. God, you’re so beautiful this way. C’mon, make a mess on my hand. Come for me,” he rasps, rubbing his cheek against yours.
Your eyes squeeze shut when you come undone on Mr. Rogers’ hand. Your aching hole squeezes his fingers, and he makes you ride your orgasm out. Your back arches, and you let out a loud moan as pleasure shocks every nerve in your body. The lewd sounds of your cunt are noisy.
You find yourself immediately wanting more, even though you shouldn’t.
“Good girl—such a good girl for me,” Steve coos before slowly sliding his fingers out your channel. Your inner walls already miss the presence of his digits. You struggle to catch your breath, but in the midst of it all, you hear your boss pull the zipper to his pants down.
“I can’t wait to get inside of you, sweetie. I need you so badly it hurts,” he says while pressing kisses against the side of your neck. Steve climbs on top of you as he frees his aching cock from the confines of his boxers.
He grips himself by the base, his entire hand wrapped around his hardness. He gives himself a few strokes as pre-cum leaks from his slit, sliding down his bulbous head. His size is marvellous, a raging purplish-red with a thick base. Steve slaps the tip of his cock against your clit, and you flinch from the unexpected jolt of pleasure. “Fuck…” he curses.
“Are you looking, sweetie? This is such a special moment for us—I hope you remember it well,” he hums in your ear, and out of your natural obedient instinct, you lift your head to where you two are about to be connected. The sight of Steve’s cock makes you whimper. “Shit, what a good little slut.”
He drags the head of his dick through your dripping folds, and then he pushes in. The sudden stretch causes your skull to fall back against the bed. You try to close your legs, but Steve’s presence makes that impossible. He refuses to let you hide what’s his.
The older man completely sheathes himself inside your pussy. The squelching sound has you cringing in shame, but that quickly disappears when the feeling of fullness takes over. Steve’s balls touch your ass when he bottoms out, and your breathing is rapid from the sensuality of it all.
A hand wraps around your throat—though gentle, it scares you at first. Your eyes meet with Mr. Rogers’, and he looks at you with what appears to be adoration.
“You feel just like heaven,” he simply tells you. “I’m never letting you go after this—never was plannin’ on it, anyway.”
Before you can even process his words, Steve starts to fuck you. His pace is slow at first, and he hits your sweet spot with ease—a feat most boys your age are incapable of. Your moans are wanton and loud, teetering on the verge of pathetic for someone who was fighting against him at first.
“Oh, fuck,” you whimper, and your reaction makes Steve smile. “You love this, don’t you? Yeah, always knew you needed a real man to fuck this cunt.”
His thrusts are a bit quicker now, and he pulls in and out of your wet pussy roughly. The sound of skin on skin is thunderous, nearly covering up the wet noises from your stickiness. His thick cock shines from your juices. Steve ruts into you like a starved man—because he is one.
His pelvic bone hits your clit every now and then, and his swollen, heavy balls are against the curve of your ass. He’s relentless in claiming you as his, sucking, biting, and licking at the skin on your neck.
“Oh my God—Steve–” you mewl, the pleasure blooming inside you almost too much to handle.
“What’s wrong, honey? Are you gonna come again?” Steve questions with faux pity. He punctuates each word with a thrust, fat cock pushing into your tightness. “What a pathetic little slut, making such a big mess on her boss’ cock. And I’m married too. You just can’t help it, can you?” he teases, and his filthy words have you squeezing his length from the filthiness. He lets a groan out from the feeling, and he keeps the fervour going.
That elastic band inside your stomach begins to tighten, and you can feel another orgasm build up quickly. “Go ahead. Make a mess on Daddy��s dick, baby,” he urges, and as if on command, you cream around his thickness.
Your back arches off the bed, but you don’t go anywhere far with Steve’s chest keeping you pressed down. Your hardened nipples rub against the cloth of his shirt, and the added friction makes your climax all the more breathtaking. The older man pounds into your cunt vigorously.
Stars appear in your vision until you come back down. Mr. Rogers doesn’t stop fucking you, forcing you to endure the overstimulation. Even with your legs shaking, he refuses to give up. “Good girl—such a good whore for Daddy,” he praises. The tip of his cock pummels against your G-spot continuously.
Your tits bounce with each push of Steve’s cock. Sometimes, he grazes your cervix, but the mild pain dulls away when he presses chaste kisses to your face and brutalizes your g-spot. “‘S too much,” you mumble, legs involuntarily trying to close. “Nu-uh—It’s enough when I say it’s enough. Don’t worry, Daddy’s gonna fill up that pretty pussy real soon,” he says, and as if on cue, there’s a change in the way he pounds into your cunt.
His thrusts become more sloppy, but they keep the same passion and desperation that he started everything with. There’s an intensity you can’t describe because it just feels so fucking good. The hand on your neck moves and begins to caress the rest of your body. Your pulsating walls hug him, practically refusing to let go. Your skin is hot and sticky, just like his—if not more.
Wandering hands grope your body, going pliant underneath Steve. Guttural groans leave Steve’s mouth while you’re gasping endlessly. “Shit—you were made for taking this dick, sweetie. I’m gonna fill you up until you’re leaking down your thighs,” he promises, and the threat of it sounds terrific to your fucked-out mind.
“Be a good girl and soak Daddy’s cock one more time,” he orders. The blur between your previous climax and the one that takes you over now has your head spinning. You grasp the bedsheets from the overwhelming pleasure. A silent scream leaves your mouth, which Steve accompanies with a grunt followed by a string of curse words. “Fuck.”
You squeeze Steve’s length tightly, soaking him in your wetness. Electric shocks run down your spine and unto every nerve in your body. You feel like you’re floating for a split second. You’ve never come that hard—ever. It’s difficult to breathe, and Mr. Rogers is mean enough to make you take the euphoria he’s doling out.
Wetness stains the skin that surrounds where you two are filthily connected. Your ass is sticky, and some of your cream stains the trimmed hair at the base of Steve’s shaft. It’s a mess—one he intends on adding to with his semen.
His cock twitches inside your pussy, and with a final shove, he stills with his pelvis pressed against your clit. Steve’s balls clench, and he shudders as he reaches his own high. Ropes of cum spurt from the fat tip of the older man’s cock, painting your insides. The feeling makes you whimper as you’re filled to the brim with his seed.
For a few moments, Steve stays in that position, catching his breath while he recovers from his orgasm. Your eyes dance along his face, taking in the pinched yet relaxed look he dons.
Eventually, your boss resurfaces from the depths of his climax. You’re more than exhausted and have half a mind to fall asleep right then and there.
But the sound of the front door opening and closing shocks you from your stupor. Worry is written all over your features when Steve looks at you. “Aw, don’t worry, honey,” he hums, and though it may seem impossible, you can feel him get harder inside your pussy,
Whether it’s your evident fright or the thrill of getting caught, you’re not sure. Both make you dizzy.
Peggy’s notable accent slurs a call for Steve. “Think we should put on a show for her?” he jokes, grinding his cock further into your pussy.
You’re sure that no matter what you say, he won’t listen. And what will follow will be a nightmare you can’t escape.
But those thoughts ebb away when you hear your other boss curse a storm and abruptly leave, even though she hasn’t walked in on the pornographic scene that’s taking place in the guest room.
“Well, there’s always next time—if she’ll even make it,” Steve grumbles under his breath, but the words are too vague for you to dwell on them. “Think you’re up for round two, love? I wanna play with those tits while you ride my cock.”
For the nth time, your body betrays you and tells him your true desires. Either way, he still would’ve gotten what he wanted. Steve Rogers always gets what he wants.
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