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aphroditesmoon · 9 months

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wish you'd ask me

clarisse la rue x fem!demigod!reader

summary: you're not good at reading subtle hints, clarisse realises that maybe she should've been more upfront with her feelings for you.

warnings: fluff, oblivious!reader, clarisse is down bad, reader is very neurodivergent coded, kissing, flirting, title n fic inspired by 'Wish You'd Ask Me' by Matt Maltese.

A/N: thank you for 1.9k followers!! I love you all dearly, my ask box and dms r always open, im glad that my writing is being enjoyed by so many people<3

wc: 4.5k

You have been in camp half blood for more than 4 years. You have made yourself at home for the last several years.

It was easy to view yourself as lesser or inadequate in comparison to other mortals during your days in the real world before you were sent to camp. The world has never failed to remind you of how different you were. Always too much or not good enough, always special and never normal

And it wasn't like you were dying for some sort of diagnosis to justify why you are the way you are, but upon discovering that you were actually a demigod, it felt like all the questions you've been harboring to yourself was finally answering themselves.

Everything clicked. Everything made sense, though at the same time, it felt impossible. You were a very confused little girl when you first arrived at camp. A girl who just wanted someone to tell them that it'll all be alright in the end.

And you still remembered the first person to hold you by your shoulders and made you look into their eyes as they told you that it was all going to be okay.

The girl with beautiful long curls and dark piercing eyes. The girl that everyone else, apparently, was afraid of.

But you could never be afraid of Clarisse La Rue.

Not with the way she smiles when every time she sees you, the way she never fails to make you feel included even in activities you're not capable of participating in. Not with the way your whole body electrifies every time your skin touches, when your hands brush against each other.

It didn't matter what anyone think, because no one could change the perception you've built of her. Clarisse La Rue is good. Or at least she is to you.

When you first heard of the rumours surrounding her, you did think better than to force a friendship on her. You strayed away from her and stuck to your cabin siblings and your books, but you noticed daily how she'd still go out of her way to talk to you at least once a day.

It didn't need to be a long conversation, just a passing acknowledgement. An easygoing 'hey, how've you been doing.' Sometimes she'd even go as far as cracking a joke with you.

With how serious her face is whenever she make the jokes, you'd have to think twice as hard and thrice as faster than another person to try and guess if she was being genuine or not so you could fit in a necessary laugh when you needed to.

Even as her anger became more apparent because of the new kid's accidental climb to fame and embarrassing the Ares' cabin, she still found time to make a conversation with you.

It had been long since you tried to ignore or avoid her. You learned that her attention towards you is harmless, and that she seemed much more comfortable telling you certain things compared to others. If she has been viewing you as some sort of safe box, then you don't really mind it. You liked listening to her talk and keeping her heart's intent as your secret.

You too, talking to her. To some people, you are reserved,

and to others, talkative. Either way, people find it easy to discard you at any moment they decide you are irritating.

But Clarisse listens. And she asks questions, she's patient- much patient that anyone could anticipate or guess.

It may be hard for others to believe, but Clarisse is more complex than she seems. She had the capacity to be gentle, and she had the capacity to respect boundaries. The more time you spent with her, the more that side becomes easy for you to access.

Today, however, marks a new record for your friendship with her. A few weeks ago, she had informed you of her newfound interest in the history of folklore monsters. What a coincidence that you were currently self-studying on that specific topic.

She insisted that you hook her in on whatever it is you're learning. She had even gotten you a doughnut to eat together outside the library as you told her of your insights of dragons and their theorized blindness and incapability to differentiate a variety of prey.

The conversation went well, she seemed immensely in awe of your knowledge and had no problem telling you how she felt.

You even gave her some book recommendations, though you knew she wasn't much of a reader.

You felt a shift in your relationship that night and had spent the next three days studying more and more about the topic. And today, you had asked her to spend the evening with you.

You shouldn't feel so nervous asking her to hang out. That is what friends do, after all.

She found you in the library, sitting on the floor in between two large bookshelves. She had been right on time and enthusiastically so. The two of you sat together, hidden by the shelves as some semblance of privacy.

Clarisse looked confused when you had explained that you indeed wanted to spend the rest of the day in the library, but she accompanied you anyways.

You could never get sick of the smell of the books. Old and new, they all have some nostalgic past tied in between the pages, begging to be discovered.

You had your back on the walls with tinted windows above your head as she's seated opposite of you in a criss-crossed position.

Today, the library isn't as packed as usual. There were still people walking in and out and checking out the books on the counter, but not too many that it became obnoxiously loud and annoying.

After finishing another book of Monsters and how to spot them, you're feeling knowledgeable enough to explain the lore of the Giants to Clarisse, she had asked you about this the other day, giants have been long extinct to the point that some might even say they may have never even existed. And so you were interested in sharing with her all of the information you have learned about the majestic species of a beast.

You started with the general information. The basic understanding of what a Giant is the mythhs of Giants and the validity of those sources. Clarisse listened closely in the beginning, never interrupting you unless she had an actual question.

She seemed in awe of the stories you tell her of. You don't blame her, for you yourself have been most interested in the topic of Giants.

You were an hour an a half in when noticed her attention faltering. She leaned against the cases of books, her eyes twitched slightly when you began to explain the different types of giants, and the difference of how they operate.

Her hands are folded together on her lap, and you can feel her listening in on everything you're telling her as she adds in some commentary here and there, but you also felt that she wasn't entirely in on the conversation.

The dim lights of the library made the atmosphere feel warm and secluded, even with its vast space and many other campers hanging around in the other tables and shelves. You made sure to keep your voice low as you spoke in fear of the librarian kicking you out.

You had a good reputation with the library workers, they liked how organized and polite you were.

"A lot of people think their greatest strength is their size, which is valid, they are huge, but their real weapon is their mouth." You told Clarisse, ignoring the litter of books by your left that you had brought over for reference.

"They kiss you to death?" She asks suspiciously. You laughed shortly and shook your head. "No, I mean their breath."

She responds with an 'ohh.'

"They're giants, so their mouth is large too, and you can easily tell what they had for breakfast even from their tall height. Their breaths are also known to be so rancid it could kill you, because they don't exactly eat what we eat."

She raises a brow as she stretches her hands upwards. "Isn't that ogres?"

"It's both." You confirmed.

You were about to continue your explanation but halted by instinct as you notice how her mouth keeps pursing together as if unsatisfied, and she has that look on her face that mimicked a confused expression. You're don't think there's anything to be confused of.

"Are you okay?" You asked her worriedly. Clarisse sits up straighter at the question and waved a hand off to assure you she's fine. "Of course, no yeah- I'm fine."

"You seem bored, you're not really interested in what I'm saying are you?” She opens her mouth to counter your words but hesitates to say anything.

"I- well, I like giants-" She attempts, "-no you don't. "

"No. I don't." She admits with a sigh. "But I thought you said you were interested in these kind of stuff?" You questioned her. "Well, yeah, like the general idea of it. I mean, I don't hate it, and I like hearing you talk about it." She answers with a shrug.

"Then why do you look disappointed? If you didn't want to come, you could've just told me. I wouldn't get mad." You told her honestly. It was conflicting for you to see her so confused on what to say, being so picky with the words she chooses.

You figured she's probably reluctant to hurt your feelings. That is a notion you're used to. You'd rather she tell you the truth to your face than to be catered around like a time ticking bomb that everyone's so afraid might explode at any time.

"When you asked me out yesterday, you told me this would be an 'evening to remember." She tells you with such confidence like it was an explanation to her weird behaviour today.

"You don't think this is an evening to remember?" You sincerely inquire.

"No, I do! I just- well, when you said that I didn't think you'd mean we'd be doing this." Your frown deepens as you try to figure out what she means, eyeing her body language closely. “What do you mean? I told you I wanted to hang out.”

A part of you is offended. She was the one who had said she liked hearing you speak, why would she be disappointed that this was your idea of spending time together?

"I don't know, I thought we'd just be doing...something else?"

It didn't matter what she had really meant with that. You felt completely embarrassed once she finished her sentence. Why was it that everyone else had no problem having long conversations with their friends, but when it came to you, it's all too awkward, unnecessary, and odd?

You liked Clarisse, you considered her your friend. Sometimes you wonder if it could ever be more, but you never entertain those thoughts because you don't want to ruin what the two of you already have.

But moments like these resemble a huge slap in the face by the universe.

You couldn't even be good friends with her, how ridiculous of you to think that there could ever be something more.

"Okay, um, maybe we should just go back to our cabin." You decided whilst standing up and picking up the stack of books you're currently borrowing from the library, ready to leave the place without waiting for her.

"Hey, wait." She called out as you walked past her. You spared her a glance, trying your best not to show how upset you are. “We're friends." She says it so much like a question that you weren't sure if she's even sure of the fact herself until she continued speaking. "I like hanging out with you."

Another thing that you weren't sure if she really meant. "Sure." You replied thinking it's the most suitable response.

Before she could say anything else, you turned around and started picking up your pace until you disappeared out of her sight.

—

You have been consistently ignoring Clarisse. Which proved to be harder than expected.

When you pass by her camp or the training ground, you make a mental note to always look down or to your front as to never accidentally cross eyes with her.

And everytime you hear her call out your name, you keep walking like you didn't even hear her, knowing that she wouldn't be bold enough to call for you again. After all, she still had a reputation to uphold.

If ignoring her wasn't hard enough, having to deal with how you felt for her is worse.

You've been avoiding confrontation with yourself for weeks even before you decided to go no contact with her.

And so far, you thought you've been handling it pretty well. Except for days where you don't see her where she's expected to be. You tell yourself that you don't care as you make your way to training in the day and reading in the evening, and yet you still go back on your own words when you asked a passerby Ares kid on where his cabin leader was.

"She's dunking some kid's head into a toilet bowl." Of course she was.

You thanked the dude and went back on your way to your cabin. It's close to dusk, the sky is turning orange and the sun is dipping itself below the earth. You take your time returning to your cabin as you enjoy the way the sun slowly removes itself from anyone's viewing.

You wondered to yourself if things like these are what makes you weird or off-putting to some people.

Was enjoying nature and having niche interests only cute when it's done by girls pretty enough to be cool or if it's only in romance movies or books.

You don't find yourself weird, in fact you think all of your hobbies are pretty common and usual, and yet the way Clarisse had spoken to you at the library last week had made you feel unnatural.

You had wanted to do normal people things with her, but maybe your perception of normal is different to her.

Either way, you are pretty hurt with how she reacted. You loved her still, of course. It's kind of hard to unlike the girl you've been obsessed with since you were 15.

Once you finally reach your cabin, you quickly put down all of your books and your tiny sling back by the side before making it to the shower to refresh yourself before dinner.

You thought it hilarious of how hard you're trying not to care about Clarisse, and yet as you're cleaning yourself up, changing your clothes and attempting to read at least 15 pages of your World's Most Dangerous Beasts book, you could only think of her.

What would it take for her to think that you're cool, what kind of things did she want to do instead of listening to you yap around for 2 hours on what is an equivalent of a boring dinosaur facts, not that you really think dinosaurs are boring.

During dinner, you kept to siblings and had to make yourself finish your plate as your anxiety wrecking thoughts have a way of deriving you of an appetite. You also had to convince yourself to not search for her at the other tables which took more strength than one would expect.

But you succeeded, and you were now sure that the only obstacle left for the day was to try and fall asleep without the thoughts of her keeping you up.

Clarisse is a force, a fierce daughter of Ares, and a cabin leader who had much better things to do then hole up at quiet small places with you.

And just because she was nice enough to mantain a good relationship with you for 4 years, does not mean that you're worth her time. Or at least that's what you tell yourself.

That night, you managed to fall asleep after an hour of recalling Harpy facts in repetition. Counting sheeps had never worked on you, so you had to find something much more active to tire out your brain.

You dreamed of Clarisse with her hair down, holding your hand and pulling you closer so she could slip a flower on your ear.

And just as she's looking down at you, moving closer to do what it seemed like to kiss you, you awoke with a jolt, swearing under your breath as if you'd just gotten jumpscared by a ghost.

Someone's palms moved to shut your lips as you're met with a girl, hovering over you in the dark. Clarisse's dark eyes were recognizable, but it sent a shot of adrenaline through your body still.

"Shh." She whispered to your face, hand still keeping your mouth shut. "I'm going to remove my hands now." She whispered again. You nod in understanding and waited for her to pry her hand away from your face.

"What are you doing here?!" You exclaimed as quiet as possible as she helped you sit up.

"I'm sneaking you out." She answers with a wink. "It's 2 in the morning." You waved your hand around at the darkness and sleeping children. "3 in the morning, and yeah, I know. That's why it's called sneaking around." She corrects you with a grin so devilish that if you hadn't known her for a long time, you'd assume she's about to turn you into a new toilet bowl or dumpster boxing victim.

You sighed loudly and glared at her despite your fast beating heart. Her hand remained on top of yours until the minute becomes more awkward and she removes it as if she just remembered that she's been holding your hand.

Without explanation, she climbed out of your bed and tiptoes to the open cabin door. You're still sitting up and looking at her with conflicted feelings.

Only after she turns back to you, cocking her head towards the entrance, do you give into her request and softly leave the comfort of your bed and trail after her.

"Where are we going?" You asked after her as she kept walking. Instead of responding, she asks you another question back, "Can you swim?"

"We're going swimming?" You watch her shrug in return from behind her and became even more distressed.

"So, is this your idea of having fun and hanging out then?" She laughs drily and slowed down so you could catch up. You walked fast enough until you're beside her and waited for her to talk. "You sound surprised, I would've thought that after 4 years of friendship, you'd know by now that I love doing things that includes active movements."

You did know that, it's a bit hard to not notice how much working out, training and running fuels her even more.

"And why are we doing it in the middle of the night?" The walk towards the lake by the back of the forest was short, considering that your cabin is the closest to the location.

You almost tripped and fell over a stick, but Clarisse was quick to scoop you back up by the back of your shirt. "Thanks." You mumbled to her. "And you haven't answered my question."

Clarisse pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it on the ground without caring of your presence. You, having more moral obligations than her, twisted your face to your left when she began to pull her trousers off. "Too many people in broad daylight." She tells you.

That is a valid reason, this lake is mostly known as a hook up spot, and true to it's cause, many dating campers have been caught together here during dawn or late evenings.

You braved yourself to turn towards her again slowly and realised that she had already hopped into the water. She had a sports bra on and a boxer.

And though you yourself had a tank top and shorts on, you contemplate the idea of suicide as a better choice than having to strip in front of her.

"Are you gonna get in, or are you just gonna gawk at me from there?" You were grateful for the dark being able to hide your flushed face from her, but deep down, you knew that she probably saw it anyways because of the shining bright moonlight.

"I can't swim." You told her.

"That's fine, the water's not very deep." You ransacked your brain for reasons to decline her offer, but at the same time, a small part of you yearned to take this risk that you've been so afraid of for gods knows whatever reason.

Clarisse is there, in the water and under the moonlight. You are only a few steps away from her. And like she said, the water isn't deep, only waist length. She stares back at you with a raised brow like she's challenging you to join her.

"Turn around first." You tell her. She smirked slightly before slowly spinning to the opposite direction. "You know I've seen you naked before right?"

"What?" You choked out, aghast. "Who do you think changed your clothes for you when you first got to camp." Oh, that.

Your shoulder relaxes as you realize she's talking about the first time you met. "That's was a long time ago." You noted. She hummed im agreement. "Yeah, we've both grown since."

You told her she could turn around once you're inside the water. Forgetting about the heighy difference between you two, the water was high enough to reach your chest, trying your best not to trip underwater the way you always do on dry ground, your hand instinctively reached outnfor her shoulder.

Clarisse held your forearm tightly and drew your closer to her until you're inches away from eachother.

You breathed in sharply and felt the need to fill in the awkward silence. "So, you...like swimming, huh?"

"Yes, evidently so." She answered. "Right right, can't sit still and all that." She actually chuckled at your sarcasm, making you proud of yourself.

"You know, even before I came to camp Half Blood, I use to be a pretty active person, running track, volleyball, sometimes swimming." Your eyes widened in curiosity. "Really?" She nodded.

"The counselor told my mom that I just had so many untapped energy, which I guess is a code for anger issues." Her grip on your forearm moves higher until her palm is over your shoulder. "She told her that it'd be best for me to find a...healthy way, to channel that energy, and for my strong competitiveness. So I joined what I could, and that's how I spent most of my free time there. Besides, I never was that good academically. So, I ought to at least be good at something, right?"

"You are good." You blurted out. Your embarrassment faded away when you saw her smile. "You think so?"

"Yeah." You assured her. Her other hand had snaked around your waist without you noticing. Only when you moved slightly do you notice her holding you softly.

"The moon is really nice tonight, isn't it?" You said, trying to diffuse the tension. You pointed your finger up to the sky at the singular white orb.

She glanced up and let out a 'huh.'

"I like it when it's bright and whole like this, the moon in all of its glory. You don't even notice the starts around it when it's glowing like that." You could stare at the moom forever, even longer than the way you've been staring at the sun.

You believed in it the way children do with their birthday candle. To you, the moon has always been a symbol of hope or comfort for your future. Your fascination for it existed from when you were a child, the way it'd follow you from behind as you gazed upon it from the back of the car seat whilst your parent drove down the road.

The way it moved above you as you walked home from school, like one of the gods themselves watching over you.

"Nothing compares to the moon." You announced aloud, watching as the clouds around it began to gather over it. "Yeah, It's beautiful." You hear Clarisse speak.

As your head snapped back to her, you found that she had already been facing you.

"I like the moon...but not as much as I like you." She whispered loud enough for your ears only. Her face leans closer to yours, your noses brushing together. "Not as much as I like to hear your voice, when you tell me about your little harpy facts-"

"Oh, I haven't told you about the harpies yet." You cut her off. "I just finished that chapter this morning actually and-"

"-and, you can tell me about it after I'm done talking." You blushed and became silent, letting her speak.

Clarisse exhaled breathily, fanning your face with the subtle warm air. "I like doing things that friends do with you, but I don't want to be your friend anymore."

"Oh."

"I want to be more than friends." She elaborated.

"Oh." Oh.

You feel a sudden tightness in your chest, from anxiety or from butterflies is undecided. "You want to be best friends?" You joked, laughing nervously.

Clarisse snorted at your joke, but she was still grinning widely. "Best friends, If that's what you want to call it."

There was a moment of understanding shared between a second of shared gazes before her lips attached themselves to yours. An urgency, approval, meaning that can't be described by words.

Whatever gentleness there was inside of her before had vanished. Clarisse kissed you like a starved woman. Her lips craved yours like it'd be the last time she'll ever know how you taste like.

Your hands clasped on her shoulder and neck for support as she embraced you tighter to her body. You let her tongue slip into your mouth, meeting your own.

And as they danced together, inhaling all there is in your lips, every secret and every confession that have died on the tip ofnyour tongues, you are sure that no heaven nor hell could tear you open to see you back together like this.

You push her back abruptly, letting fresh air fill your empty lungs. "What's wrong?" Clarisse inquired worriedly.

"Last week." You sighed out, chest still heaving as your thoughts clicked together. "You thought I had asked you on a date, that's why you were disappointed."

She winced at the reminder, and for the first time in your life, you had been lucky enough to witness a flustered Clarisse.

"I'm right." Her silence confirmed. "Oh Clarisse, why didn't you just ask me?"

Huffing loudly, she rolls her eyes in irritation. "I thought I was obvious enough. "

Thinking back on it all, it did seem pretty obvious, but gods were you oblivious. The way you intepreted it all so wrongly.

"I've liked you for so long too." You admitted to her. Her scowl was gone at that, replaced by a teasing smile. "And what are you gonna do about it?" Her mouth returned to yours, letting go of all your fears and holding on to Clarisse like she's your anchor, you close the gap between your lips, welcoming the kind of pleasure that you've never tasted before.

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #pjo series #pjo x reader #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson #dior goodjohn #wlw

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minniesmutt · 2 months

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☞ e n t e r t h e c h a t r o o m

❤︎ ━━━ P A I R I N G : SEUNGMIN X READER

❤︎ ━━━ S Y N O P S I S : There's two sides to every coin. Who would of guessed guy you'd been talking to and flirting with on twitter was the shy kid in class?

❤︎ ━━━ G E N E R A L C W : Cam boy!Seungmin, Cam girl!Reader, smau, smut, angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, only fans au!

❤︎ twt hoes | ❤︎ bane of my existence

chat one ❤︎ hands

chat two ❤︎ twitter dms

chat three ❤︎ delulu era

chat four ❤︎ hook up culture

chat five ❤︎ still fuckin?

chat six ❤︎ bbq

chat seven ❤︎ dynamic

chat eight ❤︎ what are you into?

chat nine ❤︎ we're similar…

chat ten ❤︎ be safe

chat eleven ❤︎ partners

chat twelve ❤︎ willingly??

chat thirteen ❤︎ in his sleep

chat fourteen ❤︎ together??

chat fifteen ❤︎ party please

chat sixteen ❤︎ streams

chat seventeen ❤︎ bar night

chat eighteen ❤︎ just ask

chat nineteen ❤︎ my sub?

chat twenty ❤︎ sexting

chat twenty-one ❤︎ questions

chat twenty-two ❤︎ party

chat twenty-three ❤︎ picked up

chat twenty-four ❤︎ SOS

chat twenty-five ❤︎ we need to talk

chat twenty-six ❤︎ crying

chat twenty-seven ❤︎ feelings

chat twenty-eight ❤︎ homicidal

chat twenty-nine ❤︎ check-ins

chat thirty ❤︎ make right

chat thirty-one ❤︎ hey…

chat thirty-two ❤︎ first date

chat thirty-three ❤︎ annoying

chat thirty-four ❤︎ sky blue

chat thirty-five ❤︎ marked

chat thirty-six ❤︎ open mic

chat thirty-seven ❤︎ the night

chat thirty-eight ❤︎ petty

chat thirty-nine ❤︎ tweets

chat forty ❤︎ idea!!

chat forty-one ❤︎ collab??

chat forty-two ❤︎ finale

bonus chats!

streaming screens !

#☾━━━━ [𝐊𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒]#stray kids x reader #stray kids #skz x reader #stray kids x reader smut #skz x reader smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #seungmin x reader #seungmin x reader smut #seungmin smut #kim seungmin x reader #kim seungmin smut #kim seungmin x reader smut #𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 chatroom!! {seungmin x reader}#seungmin smau #stray kids smau #skz smau #kim seungmin smau

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1-800-kami · 1 year

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R U MINE? feat gojo satoru (II)

gojo satoru has got to be the picture definition of a stereotypical college frat boy. he’s cocky, loaded with his daddy’s money, and dangerously handsome. it seems like common sense to stay away from him since you’ll never get more than a one-night stand out of it.

that’s why you choose to turn a blind eye once you’ve come to the horrific realization: you’re in love with him. and you’re just itching to ask…

“are you mine tomorrow? or just mine tonight?”

IMPORTANT: this is part TWO (and the final part) of the r u mine? mini series. make sure to read part one of this fic before proceeding! :)

content: 5.4k words, afab!reader, rich college frat boy gojo, SMUT (fingering & unprotected sex.. wrap it before u tap it kids!) ANGST, (i listened to deftones while writing the breakup era LMAOO i was in my feels 😔) gojo "everything reminds me of her" satoru is really going thru it, idk how to feel about the ending tbh, cheating implications, kinda proofread ig, more emo gojo (u luv to see it)

author's note: guys. where do i even start?? first of all, thank u for all the support on the first part of this mini series!! we also hit 100 followers on this blog so tysm for supporting me n my writing <3 here's the long awaited part two (n also the finale) as i promised that i would get it out over the weekend! just a quick announcement that i may be a little bit more inactive from here on out.. mainly because classes r starting again nd im starting to get busier. i do have more fic plans though, (and a geto smut in my drafts? 👀) so i'll make time to write when i can! happy reading and thank u for all the support on this silly little series :)

tags: @soley613 @feariteriu @bear-likes-mushrooms @96jnie @keilaq1 @whydohumansss @luftyluft @fatbootymuncher (bold = i'm unable to tag u)

reblog and interact for a kiss ;)

everything’s been hazy.

you don’t really remember how you got home– you either waved down a cab or walked until you somehow found your house. either way, the alcohol is worsening the pounding in your ears. the straps of your dress are clinging terribly against your skin–you want to take it off, you want to wear something more comfortable, you want to just go to sleep, preferably forever… but you can’t bring yourself to.

you can’t even bring yourself to move.

so the rumors really were true? but why did gojo pursue so far just for you? why did gojo say those words to you when you spent the night together? why did gojo try so hard to convince you that night that he wanted to have sex with you because he loved you–and not solely because he wanted to have sex?

why did gojo lie to you?

another series of pings sound throughout the room, and you finally move to silence your phone. the noise is all so overwhelming. why the hell is your phone blowing up?

you check your notifications–mostly dms from people you don’t know, either asking if you and satoru were dating, or questioning you about what the hell happened at the party. you know that you’re gonna be the subject of gossip once you’re back at campus, and you hate it.

you were surprised at the numbers once you scrolled down your notification list a little further. ten missed calls from satoru, accompanied by a series of fifteen panicked messages. you open it, and you stare sadly at his contact photo and name, remembering the fond memory behind it. once you two actually started dating, you were merciful enough to add a heart next to his name, and even updated it to “toru”. he was elated at that.

you think you can barely even call him gojo now.

the most recent message was barely sent a minute ago. like it was on cue, you see the bright headlights pull up outside of your door. you wanted to sink into your couch and never resurface ever again.

you hear suguru’s car door open and close, and then frantic knocking outside. you walk to the door while sniffling, looking through the peephole just to confirm your suspicions. it was satoru.

“i can hear you crying through the door, y/n. i know you’re there.” he takes a deep inhale, and the tears start rolling down your cheeks again once you hear the complete and utter vulnerability in his voice. you just don’t know what to believe anymore. “shit, i’m crying too. well, i’m gonna explain myself even if you don’t care enough to listen to me. uhm, believe it or not, what happened at the party wasn’t my doing… at all. when you went to use the bathroom, this girl went up to me and started flirting with me, like she was waiting for you to leave or somethin’. i was g’na tell her to go fuck off but she pushed herself on my lap and before i could do anything about it you walked in and it was just all horrible timing and- god. i know it sounds unbelievable, right? you must think i’m terrible right now.”

“you don’t have to believe me. if i were in your shoes i wouldn’t know what to think either. i’m just… explaining what happened.”

there’s a long period of silence between you and satoru, aside from the occasional sniffling on both ends. you don’t know what to say. you want to believe him. you want to do nothing more than to open the door and let him hold you in his arms again, but you just don’t know what to think anymore. you poured your entire heart out to a man who you knew you shouldn’t be messing with, and now you don’t know who or what to believe. you feel like a fool, and you’re just tired. so damn tired. the silence feels asphyxiating, like it's tearing your relationship with satoru further and further apart the longer it draws on.

satoru is the first one to break the silence. “i’m guessing from the silent treatment that you don’t believe me. it’s okay, y/n. i’ll wait an eternity for you to forgive me because i’ll always choose you- fuck… over anything, and i hope you know that.”

your mind is a mess, and satoru’s words make it even messier.

i’ll wait an eternity for you

i’ll always choose you over anything

you put your head in your hands and sob. it hurts.

a minute passes–gojo hears you get up from where you’re sitting behind the door, and his heart fills with hope.

“i just… i just don’t know how to believe you, gojo.”

his heart breaks when he hears the door–presumably to your bedroom–open and close, leaving him alone with his shattered heart. his heart breaks when he takes in your voice, noticing how weak and exhausted you sounded. he wonders how much you’ve cried just from this past hour alone. his heart breaks once he realizes that he’s alone with his thoughts again, alone with the voice in his head that was berating him for not being able to prevent all of this if he hadn’t frozen up and just pushed her away the second that girl started flirting with him. finally, his heart breaks once it registers that you called him gojo–the last name that he shares with his corrupt and money-crazy family… the family he tries so hard to get away from. it was also the name you called him during the days that you barely trusted him.

now, he’s back to square one, and he has none of your trust again. this time, satoru swears that he’ll do anything in his power to get it back once more.

you didn’t come to school today.

there’s been nothing but radio silence on your end. gojo has sent you countless messages over the weekend asking how you’ve been, with the occasional desperate voicemail where he tells you that he loves and misses you. you’ve turned off your read receipts, so gojo doesn’t even know if you’ve seen his texts or listened to his voicemails. he’s concerned for you, even though he knows that he’s the reason behind all of this. he was hoping to talk things out with you today.. but you weren’t even here.

one thing gojo knew about you is that you cared deeply about your academics, and you wouldn’t miss attendance even if you were sick. it pains him to know that he was the reason that you weren’t here today. you were avoiding him, and he felt helpless.

he’s talked to geto—and the best advice that his best friend could offer was to “find proof that you didn’t cheat on her.” he’s right, though. the last thing you had said to gojo was that you don’t know how to believe if he’s telling the truth or not. gojo has absolutely no idea how to prove his fidelity to you, since words clearly weren’t enough. it frustrates him to no end.

gojo now knows that he feels absolutely lost. all when he’s not with you.

it feels nerve-wracking to walk the halls.

he remembers telling you the night that you slept together that he’d learned over time to drown out the rumors about him. he learned not to care about what other people thought about him, and he eventually became unaffected by the school’s gossip.

however, this time was different.

this time, he finds it difficult to drown out the rumors when he hears your name in them. he flinches every time someone whispers your name and his as he walks the halls, feeling that all eyes are on him. “i heard y/n and gojo broke up…” “they were dating?!” “yeah.. i didn’t believe it at first, either! apparently he…”

he doesn’t want to hear it, so he walks a little faster. it hasn’t felt this suffocating to be on campus in a while.

maybe that’s partially why you didn’t show up. rumors are hard to ignore if you don’t know how to shun them out.

gojo lets out a sigh. he decides that he’s going to ditch the rest of class. you weren’t here, he couldn’t talk to you, and he felt he was gonna go mad if he heard your name spoken by someone again, so he turns to leave, but flinches as he feels a hand lightly tap his shoulder.

“gojo-san?”

he turns around, with a girl that he’s never seen before standing in front of him… not that he pays attention to them in the first place, though. he raises his eyebrow in question, and the girl looks so nervous she might pass out. “i have to tell you something-“

“if it’s a love confession or whatever, i don’t want to hear it-“

“-no!” she flushes a deep shade of red, and he fights the urge to roll his eyes. she coughs awkwardly at his expression. “um, no.. it’s not that. please, just give me two minutes in the library. i have something to tell you.”

he decides to entertain this girl for a bit. he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t curious about what she had to talk to him for. gojo sighs and says, “two minutes. that’s all you’re getting.”

“this is about the party last friday, no?” he says while taking a seat near one of the tables. he feels sick just being here. he’d never gone to the library before meeting you–as he had no reason to go here at all. then, he started accompanying you everywhere as he tried to win your heart. “study dates” were frequent here, and he even remembers forcefully changing his contact name and number on your phone during one of your dates.

gosh, everything literally reminds him of you. he can barely live like this.

she takes a seat across from him, and she shamefully nods at his words. “i went to the party on friday, and i just want to say i’m sorry-”

gojo gets up to leave. he can’t do this. he doesn’t need anyone’s pity. pity can’t change the fact that you still won’t talk to him. she panics as gojo is about to walk away. “wait!”

the librarian tells her to quiet down, and she mutters an apology. still, she persists. “please, just wait for two minutes… i need two minutes to explain myself. you promised you’d give me that.”

she stares at gojo, who hasn’t left yet, and takes that as her opportunity to speak. “i was a friend of… her,” he doesn’t need an explanation to know who she was talking about. “the reason why she came up to you was because of a dare i told her to do. she’s had a crush on you for a while now, so of course she was willing to flirt with you.”

“um, that was the dare, by the way. my friend told me to record it, because we were all drunk, and we thought it would be funny. just another memory to laugh at in the future, right? we didn’t know you were dating the girl you were with at the party. sorry but, we assumed she was just a fling… or something… we didn’t know she was your girlfriend.”

“yeah, i was dating the girl at the party.” gojo scoffs, and he feels his anger bubbling up again. “then your friend had to do that stupid dare, and she won’t fuckin’ talk to me now.”

“i’m sorry-”

“i don’t need your apologies. is that why you came up to me? to apologize so you don’t feel guilty about what happened anymore?” gojo sneers. he was right, though. guilt is ridden all over her face, and she can’t even meet his eyes. he’s about to leave, thinking that this entire conversation was useless, but gojo thinks back on what she said earlier.

“...my friend told me to record it…”

he turns back to look at her, which surprises her, to say the least. “hey, you said you recorded the dare, right?”

“uhm, yes.”

“so you still have the video?”

“it should be in my camera roll somewhere-”

“if you came here to apologize to me, then you should send me that video.” she looked a little horrified at his words, and gojo could almost laugh. “what? i’m not gonna do anything bad with it, god.”

she thinks about what gojo’s intentions could be with that video, and her eyes light up in recognition as she connects the dots from what he said beforehand. i was dating the girl at the party… then your friend had to do that stupid dare… and she won’t fuckin’ talk to me now.

she nods in understanding. this is the least she could do for him. she pulls out her phone, looking for the video, and says, “i hope you two make up soon, gojo-san.”

gojo satoru walks- no, runs out of that library with determination. determination as he finally has the video evidence of what happened at the party–his saving grace so he could finally get you to forgive him.

you miss him.

you miss him like hell, actually, and you blink at the messages he just sent you in complete disbelief.

you didn’t show up to class today because you were afraid. you were afraid to see satoru again, yes, but you were also afraid of what everyone else would say about you. the party was one thing, but the after-effects and the rumors were something completely different. you didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with that, unlike satoru, so you stayed home. all because you were afraid of what would happen on campus.

you just wish things would go back to how they were before… all of this happened. you didn’t want to admit it, but you’ve read all of satoru’s messages, and you’ve listened to all of his voicemails. you’ve cried to them. and it hurts because you’re still torn apart in the midst of your own feelings. and now, satoru wants to talk to you, because he’s been wanting to do nothing but fix everything between the two of you.

the doorbell rings, and you almost jump out of your skin.

you didn’t even know if you would open the door or not. despite that, you felt your body moving on its own, like you were relying on your own instincts. you washed your face to get rid of the dried tears on your cheeks, brushed the tangles out of your hair, and dressed into something more presentable. the next thing you know, you’re leaning against the wall next to the front entrance. your shadow is visible underneath the door, so satoru knows that you’re here.

“hi, y/n..” he sounded so nervous that you almost laughed, but you felt equally as terrified as him. “i have something to show you… uh, on my phone. if you don’t want to see me, it’s fine, i’ll just send it to you, but i’d really prefer if you open the door and we’ll talk about this inside-”

your hand is already reaching the door knob before you can even think about it. it’s such an impulse decision that you look at him in surprise once you open the door. it’s the first time you’ve seen him ever since you were at the party. it’s only been three days, but you can’t help but notice how his eyebags are more prominent, his eyes are a little redder, and he looks nothing short of exhausted.

“hey,” he manages to breathe out, his eyes meeting yours. “can i come in? please?”

you nod, too stunned to say anything, and he exhales in relief as he walks in. the two of you sit on the couch, and gojo notices how you’re keeping your distance from him. it breaks his heart a little.

he looks for the video on his phone and gets ready to show it to you. this is it. his last ditch effort for your forgiveness. he’s really fuckin’ hoping that this works. “i got this video from a girl who came to the party. it’s a recording of, um, what happened.”

he hands the phone over to you, and you take it skeptically, still choosing to keep silent. you press play, and you watch the recording. a shaky hand holds the camera, and the person behind it says, “holy shit, she’s actually doing it!” they're presumably talking to their friend, and the camera focuses on a girl walking over to gojo. your heart is pounding, eyes widening in recognition as you stare at her... the one who caused all of this in the first place.

the all too familiar girl comes up to him, saying something out of earshot. when gojo looks at her, completely uninterested, she pulls that move. the scene you saw at the party before you ran out. tears fill your eyes again, and you almost want to stop the video, but your interest is piqued at the next part.

..this… this part was something that you didn’t see. gojo angrily reacts at the girl’s move, with her falling on the floor as she looks at him, stunned at how furious he looks. the person behind the camera gasps, continuing to record out of shock as a crowd of people turn to stare at the two. geto eventually comes into the frame and takes gojo away from all the chaos. the video ends there, and you grip gojo’s phone shakily.

holy shit.

tears roll down your face, but this time, they’re tears of relief. you waste no time in hugging satoru, crying your heart out as you bury your face in his neck. you’re happy. you’re so fucking happy, and so relieved knowing that he didn’t lie to you. of course he didn’t.

“m’sorry-” you sniffle into his shoulder. gojo is so shocked at what was happening that it takes him a second to hug you back, but when he does, he starts crying. “m’so fucking sorry i didn’t believe you-”

“shh, it’s okay, it’s okay…” he says, and you only hug him tighter. “m’so tired, you know that? these past three days fucking sucked. i’m just so glad you’re in my arms again, fuck-”

“-i love you, i love you, i love you so fucking much, toru.” you repeat, laughing as you kiss him all over his face. it’s been a while since you said that to someone. you wipe his never-ending tears away, still in disbelief, and whisper, “you’re real. right? you’re actually here with me right now ‘nd i’m not dreaming, right?

“i’m very much real, baby.” he says, putting his forehead against yours as you take in his features again. “god, i missed that pretty face so much.”

he finally closes the gap between you two, pulling you into a much needed kiss. it’s a kiss filled with so many emotions–desperation, happiness, relief. satoru thinks his heart is finally whole again. he’s missed you. he’s missed you so fucking much, and you’ve missed him too.

you’re like an anchor to satoru. the light of his life that keeps him grounded. and god, he’s been apart from you for too long.

you reposition yourself as you’re deepening the kiss. you’re on his lap now, and you wrap your arms around his neck, tugging on his hair in desperation. “oh yeah? ‘y gonna do anything about it?"

“of course i am,” he says, hands roaming underneath your shirt as he caresses your bare waist. fuck. he needs you. right now. especially after thinking that he was about to lose you forever–for something that he didn’t even do. “i’m gonna show you just how much i missed you, baby.”

gojo can’t let you go.

you’re in your bedroom, and both of you waste no time undressing each other. he takes you in–all of you, in awe of every crevice of your body as he trails his hands further down your waist.

god, you’re so beautiful. “i can’t believe i almost lost you.”

his words are shaky, like he’s still uncertain that you’re real and you’re in his arms again. he can’t seem to break himself away from you, almost like you’ll disappear if he lets you go. “but i’m here now, toru.”

“i’m here to stay, and i’ll never let you go again… ‘m yours,” you whisper, and your words set a fire in him, fueling his body with nothing but desperation. desperation to have you right here, and right now.

he wastes no time in plunging two of his fingers in your cunt, and he groans at just how wet you are. “satoru-”

“fuck, you’re so wet… and it’s all for me,” he mutters, spreading your legs effortlessly when you try to close them, thighs shaking in pure pleasure. he adds another finger, and you already feel stretched to the brim, and you haven’t even taken him in yet. the thought of his cock inside of you makes you even wetter than you already are, and you look up at satoru with eyes full of lust and desire. “missed you so much, baby. missed you and your pretty little cunny,”

his fingers are long, and you whine at how full you feel right now. you’re so loud, and you don’t even care. right now, it’s just you and satoru finally feeling each other again. it’s only been three days, but it feels like you’ve been apart for years.

everything about this was filthy. from your erotic moans and the way your cunt squelched against his fingers… not to mention the vice grip you had on them- fuck, satoru thinks he can cum untouched just from watching you like this.

“haa-” you whimper when his fingers curl and hit that spot in your cunt that you can barely seem to reach on your own. it’s exhilarating, and only fuels the growing heat in your stomach. “toru- don’t stop- please, i’m close-”

“really?” he taunts, and it feels so fucking good–your head is numb, and the only thoughts filling your head are thoughts of satoru. the pleasure is too much, and you try to get away from him, but he keeps you in place, curling his fingers faster as punishment. “don’t run away from me, baby… be a good girl and just take it, yeah?”

“toru- fuck- i’m gonna cum, please-” you’re on the brink of release, but suddenly, he stops, ruining your orgasm. “no- wait-”

he pulls his fingers out, and you whine at the loss of stimulation. you were so close–why did he take that away from you? you try and swat at his hands, but he just takes his fingers and puts them in his mouth, locking his eyes with yours with a sly smile. “you taste so sweet, i can’t help it,”

“aww, is my baby mad ‘cause she didn’t get to cum?” he coos sarcastically, caging you in between his arms as he tilts your face up with his finger. “too bad… the only thing you’re cumming on tonight is on my cock.”

and with that, he eases his painfully hard member into your walls. your insides hugged him perfectly–it was like you were made just for him. you gasp once he’s fully sheathed himself inside of you. his fingers were already a lot to take in, but his cock was something completely different. he moans your name, barely keeping his cool. “fuck- you’re squeezing me so tight,”

“missed everything about you, baby. i need to hold you, please,” he pleads desperately, clasping your small hands against his. the size difference alone between the two of you almost makes him cum, but he holds himself back, choosing to bask in this intimate moment. he’s missed every part about this. “you ready f’me?-”

“-just fuck me, satoru, please-” he doesn’t need another confirmation from you.

he can’t bring himself to hold back. next thing you know, he’s fucking you into the mattress, and you feel the headboard shake at how fast satoru is going. fuck–you feel every part of him, every part of his cock as it slams against your tight hole. he’s so big, you feel yourself gasping for breath, and you moan out loud as you notice the prominent bulge forming in your stomach. it’s him, it’s all him, and it’s driving you mad.

satoru follows your eyes in the midst of all of this, and he watches everything in fascination. he decides to be a little mean, and presses his free hand against your stomach–it feels so good, you could almost scream at the pleasure. “you feel that, baby? that’s all me inside of you, hmm?”

“please-” the onset of pleasure feels so overwhelming, and tears fill your eyes. you feel an oncoming orgasm coming, and you know your release will hit you like a tidal wave. your heart is pounding, but satoru only grips your hand tighter and fucks you even harder. “oh, fuck!”

“m close, baby. are you g’na cum too?” he manages to say between pants, and you somehow nod, mind hazy and your release only coming closer. you feel your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “cum inside of me, toru- please- i need to feel you-”

gojo groans at your words, and you both cum together. you ride out your high, screaming as you spasm around his cock, the pleasure overfilling your senses until you’re trembling from it. he fills you up, staying inside of you as the two of you catch your breath. everything’s hazy, and you’re barely aware of your surroundings… it takes you a few minutes to recover.

“angel, are you with me?”

“yeah, fuck, just… give me a second.” you say, and gojo thinks that he would gladly give you all the time in the world if you needed it. he pulls out of you with a hiss, and his warm seed drips out of your cunny. it makes his cock twitch, but he knows that you’re probably not considering a round two right now.

when you come to your senses, you notice satoru–who put his clothes back on already, wiping your legs down with a rag. his touch is so soft, like he’s afraid to break you, unlike how he handled you just a moment ago. you look down and notice the bruises starting to form on your legs and waist. satoru looks guilty as he stares. “i didn’t go too rough with you, did i?”

“not at all,” you reassure him, and you see him soften up a little. “it felt really good, actually… thank you, toru.”

“s nothing. you know my girl only gets the best,” he teases, and you laugh. “i’m gonna go get you some new clothes and some water… i’ll be back, okay?”

you nod, closing your eyes again as satoru leaves the room. he’s back in two minutes, and he’s gently changing you into new clothes that he found in your drawer. you’re so tired that you can hardly move, so you let satoru do all the work. he caresses all of your bruises, apologizing again even if you already said that it was okay. he’s so gentle, a swift juxtaposition to what just happened beforehand, and so soft with you. once you’re clothed again, he brings a glass of water against your lips, and you greedily gulp it down as he keeps a hand on your back. he places it on the nightstand once you’re finished, and you grab his wrist after, tugging him back to the bed. “lay with me for a bit, toru.”

satoru doesn’t hesitate, laying down next to you on the bed and placing your head against his chest. your breathing is back to normal, and you feel his heart thumping against your ear. you wrap your arms around him, and satoru thinks that this moment is so domestic that he can’t help but daydream. he looks at your face, memorizing every feature about you with a lovesick look in his eyes. you’re so beautiful, so perfect, and he’s just so fucking glad that he didn’t lose you.

satoru thinks he could wake up to this everyday.

“you’re starin.” you say with an amused look on your face. gojo doesn’t even try to play it off. “what’s on your mind?”

“nothing. i just… love you so much, y/n.” he says, pulling you closer and kissing your forehead. satoru would trade anything if it meant that this moment wouldn’t end. “m so glad you chose me.”

“i think it’s the other way around,” you tease. “you chose me. ever since you saw me at the party, you’ve done nothing but try to win my heart.”

“how could i not? there was just something different about you compared to everyone else.” he reminisces about that night at the party, and how far he’s come with his relationship with you. he remembers that night like it just happened yesterday.

you sigh, almost like you were thinking about that night too. you pull him into a kiss, finally finding the courage within you to say a proper “i love you.” to the man who meant the world to you.

“i love you too, angel.” he says, and you snuggle into him tighter. “you know i’ll always choose you…”

“..from this life and into the next. i’m so glad you gave me a chance, y/n. i’ll forever be grateful to now be called your husband. i’m the luckiest man ever knowing that you let me into your life, and i’m the one who gets to read these vows to marry you. i cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with you. i love you so much, y/n gojo.” he’s crying. gojo satoru is crying, and he’s hardly ever cried before. though, that changed after he met you.

the last time he cried was during pre-k, and now he’s done it time and time again… all because of you. he cried once during your first argument with him, another during the night he thought he’d lost you forever, and then another when he finally had you in his arms again once he proved his innocence… and now, during his wedding, when he finally gets to call you his wife.

and when you share your kiss at the end of the ceremony to symbolize your togetherness, you hear all your friends cheering. mainly shoko, utahime, and geto. if you showed this very scene to shoko during your university years, she’d call you crazy, saying this would never happen. gojo satoru was once a man who’d never willingly committed in a relationship before, but you came into his life and you changed everything about him. it was like magic.

you pull away from the kiss, wiping his tears away and whispering against his lips, drowning out the crowd, “thank you.”

for memorizing all my favorite foods so you could buy them for me. for walking me to class every day. for making me fall in love with you that one day at the park. for waiting for me to slowly love you even when i was scared to love. for waiting for me even if i didn’t trust you. for loving me. for proving those rumors wrong. for proving that satoru gojo is actually capable of falling in love and pouring his heart out to the one he loves the most.

for everything that you have done to love me.

it was like gojo could hear all of your unspoken words. he smiles, letting one more tear roll down his cheek, and says, “it’s all worth it if it’s for you.”

thanks for reading <3 -kami.

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btsgotjams27 · 6 months

Text

things you didn't say | jjk

summary: with the recent interactions with jungkook, you try to downplay your feelings, but your friends encourage you to acknowledge your past and move forward.

✨ title: things you didn't say | tydk couple ✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader ✨ genre/au: angst | ex-best friends to friends/lovers(?) ✨ rating: R/18+ | ✨ word count: 7.3k | ✨ playlist ✨ warnings: minor language, lana threatens oc with a fork, drinking, game of truth or dare, confessions, kissing ✨ a/n: hii--i'm sorry i've been a bit MIA in regards to writing. it's been such a struggle to get anything written. i've been thinking a lot about these two and i hope this last part gives us all some kind of resolution. enjoy. (and there's a small nod to something that'll happen in a different jk wip i'm working on hehe). and if you haven't read part one or two, please do so before reading this part.

✨ read part one | read part two ✨

The clock is nearly midnight, and you’re not ready for the magic to disappear.

All night, you’ve kept your heart at bay, questioning every move and word being spoken. Only you can see it, but a dark cloud is looming over you. Doubts linger like a predator waiting to pounce and take its prey. You want to avoid getting it wrong or being let down.

And your heart is the ultimate betrayer, but it doesn’t lie.

You’re caught up in sentimental memories from the past. His nose scrunches and boisterous cackles are reminiscent of the boy you remember. Hanging out and reliving past adventures felt like no time had passed, yet life updates from then to now made him feel like a stranger.

Giggles and claps, along with snorts and dribbles of wine, glide down the side of your mouth. The third wine bottle is on its way to being destroyed by the pair of you.

He’s careful to avoid the subject of Josie, for which you are grateful. If you could be honest, you would ask him why he was still with her and what he saw in her. But it’s not your place, nor are you in the position to pry.

Your eyes fall on the plants sitting on the corner shelf in the dining area—an array of pothos, snake, and rubber plants. They’re your typical plants, but it’s the planters that they’re sitting in that make you smile. The planters have stubby arms and legs with smiley faces.

Jungkook follows your gaze. “What are we looking at?”

You point to the planters. “Those little guys. They’re cute.”

“Thanks,” Jungkook says. “I made them.”

“The planters or the plants?”

He swirls his wine glass, letting out a small laugh. “The planters.”

“You made those planters?” You stand, walking over to them.

“When I get bored, I try new creative outlets and ceramics was one of them,” he says, taking a sip of wine.

“Wow, you have a knack for things like that, huh?” You pick up a planter, inspecting it before setting it down. “You could open up your own Etsy shop or something. People would buy these in a heartbeat.”

“Eh, I suppose. I just like doing things with my hands. It makes me feel useful.” Jungkook shrugs. He watches your every move as you continue eyeing the different ceramic pieces he’s made: vases, candleholders, etc. “Do you think people would buy the things I make?”

You lift a coiled vase, turning to him. “Are you kidding me? People would eat this shit up. Once your pieces sell like hotcakes on Etsy, Urban Outfitters will slide in your DMs.” You’re not surprised Jungkook easily excelled at something like ceramics. He’s always been talented at anything he picks up.

“And you were good at anything creative when we were in school—art class, wood shop. I would’ve failed wood shop if you didn’t help me finish my project.”

“Yeah, your birdhouse was fucking terrible.”

You scoff, walking toward him, playfully shoving his shoulder. “It wasn’t that bad.”

He deadpans. “Even birds would avoid your birdhouse.”

“Shut up! I tried my hardest.”

“Didn’t try hard enough,” he teases, his eyes crinkling at the corners with a grin on his face.

The pair of you continue to bicker about nothing, but the constant buzzes of notifications from his phone are hard to ignore. You’d catch Jungkook peering, tapping his fingers, debating if he should reply.

You sip from the bottle of dessert wine, you find it sweet and refreshing on your lips. “If you need to get that, then don’t let me stop you.”

Jungkook lifts his phone. “Nah—it’s nothing,” he protests before his phone vibrates in his hand. He glances at the illuminated screen and he finally picks it up. “Sorry, let me answer this. I’ll be right back.”

He hurries out of the kitchen and into the darkened living room. You can only hear Jungkook’s stern, hushed voice, but you can’t make anything out. His change in demeanor hints at one person, and it’s Josie. Which meant it was your cue to leave. You’ve overstayed your welcome.

You raise your wine glass, gulping the golden honey peach Moscato. Thank goodness they’re easy to guzzle. A drop runs down the side of your mouth, and you swipe it away as Jungkook walks back in.

“I’m so sorry about that.”

“Hmm? Oh—don’t worry about it. I, um, I’ve probably overstayed my welcome, so I should get going.”

“What? No, stay. We have to finish our Moscato.”

A nervous chuckle leaves your lips as you contemplate his proposition. There’s a tug in your heart, wanting to stay into the early hours of the morning, but there’s your brain telling you to take it slow and go home.

“I wish I could stay, but I should head home. I have a load of laundry to fold and sadly, it won’t fold itself.” You stand up from the bar chair, feeling a bit wobbly on your feet. Jungkook rushes to your side, gripping your waist, but you catch yourself by holding onto the counter.

“You can’t hold your liquor?” He asks with a wide grin, pulling you upright.

Clearing your throat and flattening down your jeans, you spit out, “Ha-ha. I can hold my liquor just fine. I merely tripped.”

Jungkook chuckles. “You’re a terrible liar—see, I still remember that.”

You gasp sharply, with a hand over your chest. “I’m surprised that big ‘ol head of yours can remember anything. I thought it was only filled with games and girls.” Sticking out your tongue, you conk him on the head with your knuckles.

“Ow.” He rubs the spot as if you had knocked him with a bat.

Taking out your phone from your pocket, you pull up Uber.

“Let me take you home, at least.”

You give him a look, slowly blinking your eyes at the devilishly handsome friend. Could you even call him a friend again? Maybe it was too early for that.

“Did you forget that we both had too much to drink tonight? So, you shouldn’t be driving me. It’s fine, Kook. I’ll get an Uber.”

Jungkook sighs, knowing he can’t convince you otherwise. “Fine. I’ll wait with you outside until it gets here.”

“Well, it’s not like I can stop you.”

The pair of you are sitting on his front steps, watching cars drive by and cats strolling through the neighborhood. His place is in a newer part of town, one that was built while you were away. It’s familiar and odd, just like you and Jungkook. As much as you want to forget the past and move on, there’s a part of you holding onto what the two of you had. Would you ever become best friends again? Would you even consider letting him be a part of your life? Those were questions for another time, but it felt like you had your best friend back, even if it was just for tonight.

As the alcohol in your system dwindles, the brain fog becomes clearer, along with your hearing. A nudge from Jungkook makes you come back to reality. “Hmm?”

“I asked, ‘Do you still go stargazing’?” He chuckles, shaking his head.

“Yeah, I do, but the spot I went to during college isn’t as good as the one we used to go to.”

Jungkook hums, avoiding your gaze as he picks up a small pebble from the ground. “We should go there sometime,” he mumbles under his breath. He continues toying with the pebble before throwing it into the bushes.

You’re trying to suppress a smile and swat away the butterflies growing in your stomach. It’s dumb to think things could go back to the way they were. It’s unrealistic and you don’t want to get hurt again.

Turning toward him, you want to set the record straight. “Let’s um, take this whole friendship thing slow, Kook. Dinner was great. It was nice talking to you again, but you do understand where I’m coming from, right?”

He nibbles on his bottom lip and nods. “I’ll follow your lead.”

You check your phone again. The Uber is two minutes away. As you click it off, you turn and see Jungkook staring. Something is brewing behind those starry eyes. With a raised brow, you ask, “What?”

“Can I call or text you sometime?”

“Just don’t, uh, go texting me all day and night. Your girlfriend might get jealous. Might even put a bounty on my head,” you tease, reaching to pull his black CK cap over his face.

He takes his cap off, carding his hand through his hair before placing it back on his head. As you’re immersed in your phone and looking up at the street for your Uber, Jungkook silently observes you like has for the past few years. Some might say it’s a red flag, but how else was he supposed to know if you were happy? That’s all he’s ever wanted—for you to be happy, loved, and have all your dreams come true, even though he wasn’t there to cheer you on. For seven years, he has been tormented by what he did, and he didn't want to jeopardize any possibility of any kind of relationship with you. It doesn’t even have to be like before, just as long as the two of you are on speaking terms. He could live with that.

A dark sedan pulls up alongside the pair of you. You grab the door handle, pause for a moment, then turn back to Jungkook. “We’ll talk soon?” He raises both eyebrows and hums softly, giving a thin smile. “Bye, Kook.”

Two weeks passed, and there was no text or call from Jungkook. Plenty of thoughts ran through your mind, the number one being Josie had found out about your little dinner and locked him in a basement, cutting off all contact with the outside world—especially if it was with you.

But you’re a big girl. Why should you be waiting around to hear from him, anyway?

If there’s one thing you hate about adulting, it’s cooking. You missed the days when you were in your angsty teen phase, headphones in, and hating the world, then your parents would yell ‘Dinner’s ready’. And as much as you missed home-cooked meals, you loved that your parents were off gallivanting around the world, living their retirement dreams. One day that’ll be you, living off your retirement and eating out 24/7, but for now, there’s a decision to be made about what will go in your salad for the week.

Cucumbers.

Strolling in the veggie section, your eyes scan for the green vegetables before landing on them. You stood debating on which one to get. Why are there so many varieties? But according to Google, Persian cucumbers go great in salads.

As you grabbed a second cucumber, you looked up to see the man who betrayed your trust. And no—it wasn’t Jungkook. It was his roommate, Jimin, aka ‘the trickster’.

With a stomp in your step and a cucumber in your hand, you march over to him, striking him on the shoulder with it.

“Ow!” Jimin exclaims, rubbing his shoulder as he turns around. His brows furrowed, lips in a full pout when he finds you standing behind him. “What the hell?” He looks to see the weapon in your hand. “Did you just hit me with a cucumber?” You hum. “Why’d you do that?”

Tossing the cucumber in your basket and crossing your arms, you huff out, “Because you deserved it!”

“Deserve what?”

You roll your eyes at the not-so-innocent man. Was he trying to play Cupid or something with you and Jungkook?…Because his stupid plan kind of worked. You truly had a great time at dinner, and it was nostalgic, just like how things used to be.

“Mmhm. Count your days, Park,” you quip, turning around to head in the other direction. Jimin’s calling after you to wait for him, but you keep on walking.

As he catches up, standing beside you, he nudges your arm. “Oh, come on. I was just trying to help a friend out,” he finally admits.

“Well, don’t.”

Jimin strides in front of you, stopping you in your tracks. “Hey—” You attempt to go around him, but he’s unrelenting. “Just hear me out, okay?” You sigh, waving for him to continue. “I’m sorry I ambushed you, but it was the only way you’d hang out with Jungkook. I know the two of you had shit go down in the past, and I just wanted to help you both move on to being friends again.”

“Why does it matter to you?”

“Because,” he pauses and straightens his back with his chin up. “I like you and I like Jungkook, and who wouldn’t want to see their friends be happy, hmm?”

Jungkook’s laughter echoed in your mind. You knew it was dumb to miss something as simple as a laugh, but you had heard it for so many years, and then it stopped for a long time. It felt nice to have a piece of an old friend back.

Jimin gives you a look and a grin sweeps across his face. There’s a satisfaction behind that grin and you wish you could wipe off.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, Park Jimin,” you say, stepping off to the side as a customer rolls by with their cart through the two of you.

He laughs, showing off his pearly whites. “I should check out and head off—don’t want you to start getting any ideas and start a food fight here in the grocery store.”

“Yeah, you should run.” You pretend to grab the cucumber and watch him run off to self-checkout.

A buzz from your back pocket alerts you of a notification and, to your surprise, it’s a text from Jungkook. It looks like he hadn’t forgotten about you.

Jungkook 1:34 PM Hey. I’m throwing a small dinner for Jimin’s birthday on Friday at 7 pm. Say you’ll come.

You 1:35 PM Define small.

Incoming Call Jungkook

“If I come and it’s a big party like last time, then count me out.”

“Hello to you, too.”

“Right—hey. No, but seriously. I’m not a big crowd kinda gal.”

“Including me and you, there would only be six people. That’s not a lot, right?”

It’s not, but you’ll have to save your social battery for the dinner party.

“No, yeah, that’s fine.”

“And don’t worry, you know everyone—Lana’s going too.”

The big question is: will Josie be there?

A beat passes and you realize you’re standing in the middle of an aisle, probably blocking someone’s way.

Jungkook’s voice comes through your phone, calling your name a few times. “Hello? Hey. Are you still there?”

You turn to make sure no one’s around. “Yeah, sorry. I’m still here. Is, um, ‘who-shall-not-be-named’ coming?” You ask, nibbling on the inside of your cheek. It’s a name for fuck’s sake, but you can’t bring yourself to say it.

He chuckles at your subtle attempt to avoid the Josie topic. “I can promise you that she’s not coming. Is that why you’re hesitant to say yes?”

“Pfft–what! No!” you blurt out, lying through your teeth. Truth be told—yeah, it is. You don’t want a repeat of Jimin’s party.

You clear your throat, “Anyway, yeah, I’ll come. Count me in.”

“Cool! See you on Friday.”

“Can I bring anything?”

“Nope–just yourself. Oh, and it’s a surprise, so don’t say anything to Jimin.”

“‘Kay…sounds good. I’ll see you Friday.”

“Can’t wait to see you,” he said with enthusiasm before hanging up.

As you’re mixing the salad, you’re staring absent-mindedly at the abstract painting that’s framed on your wall because those five words rang in your ears on the drive home.

You mumbled those words in different tones, trying to make sense of the innocent expression. It’s completely normal for Jungkook to be excited. He hasn’t seen/hung out/talked to you in almost seven years. Yeah, that’s it—at least it’s what you’re telling yourself.

Lana waves her hand in your face. “Um, hello! I don’t think you can mix the salad anymore!”

Looking down, a few springs of leaves have been tossed out of the bowl and onto the counter. Oops. You pick them up, throwing them in the garbage bin. “Sorry—I was distracted.”

“Clearly.”

As you push the bowl aside, your focus is on the unopened bottle of wine.

“Are you going to tell me what’s distracting you, or should I wait until the wine settles in?”

“You can wait until the wine settles in. It’ll give me time to forget about it.”

Lana picks up a fork, threatening you with it. “I swear to god if you don’t tell me—”

“Okay, okay. The other day, Jungkook called to invite me to Jimin’s dinner party.” Lana narrows her eyes and hums, intently listening. “At the end of our conversation, he said, ‘Can’t wait to see you’, and he seemed excited.”

She nods her head, waiting for the rest of the story, but you don’t say anything else. “That’s it? God–that’s so boring. I thought you guys kissed or something.”

“Lana!” you cry out, almost knocking over the wine bottle.

“What? I thought he would’ve made his move by now.”

You roll your eyes. “There’s no move to make. He’s with Josie, remember?”

“Josie Schmosie—she’s old news, but you,” she points and grins, “You’re back and here to fuck things up,” she claps with a gleeful smile.

“Oh, will you stop it? I’m not back to do anything—and what the hell, Lana? You’re not helping!”

Lana chortles, covering her mouth. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m sure what Jungkook said to you is just a simple expression of how much he can’t wait to see you and get you underneath his sheets.”

You sigh, shaking your head. “I don’t even know why I bothered you with this.”

“Okay, I’ll stop. I promise—just kidding. Can I ask one more thing?” You wave your hand for her to continue. “You’re telling me you don’t even want to revel in the idea of the two of you being something more than just friends?”

The iciness of the tiled counter becomes apparent underneath your fingers, and you’re faced with a question you never wanted to answer—aloud, at least. Considering that he’s tried breaking up with Josie multiple times, but somehow is still with her, you’re unsure what will push Jungkook to cut off the head of the snake.

You hate that Jeon Jungkook has been—scratch that—is your Roman empire. He’s the one thing you’ve come back to even when you didn’t want to. It’s the same three questions you’ve had: Is he okay, is he happy, does he miss you too?

And if you’re completely honest, the answer is yes. Of course, you’ve reveled in the idea of you and him.

“I don’t know, Lana. I mean yes—the thought has crossed my mind. I’ve liked him since senior year, but it takes two to tango, and Jungkook can’t do that right now. Besides, I won’t wait around for him to come to his senses.”

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me, that’s the expression, isn’t it?

You can’t imagine going through another heartbreak from the same boy.

Things happen in life that don’t make sense.

Especially for the price of a pair of earrings, you’re currently looking to purchase as Jimin’s birthday present. The sales associate senses your hesitation and brings out a similar pair that’s on sale.

“Ah—that’s more like it. I’ll take those and do you still provide gift wrapping?” you ask, looking at the sign you saw on the way in.

“Yes, we do. Let me go into the back and wrap it up for you.”

The associate disappears through the back door, probably to talk shit about you to their co-workers, but hey–a girl has to save money where she can. It’s a fragile economy.

You roam, looking through the display cases of bracelets, rings, and watches. A gold Casio watch catches your eye–it looks like one Jungkook used to wear. He treasured the vintage-looking watch because it was his father’s. Come to think of it, you haven’t seen him with it when you saw him. Maybe he lost it or replaced it with something else.

Either way, you continue eyeing pieces of jewelry you’ll never purchase for yourself, and it’s when you look up to catch a glimpse of a girl you recognize. But it’s the man marking her neck that isn’t your ex-best friend. You’ve locked eyes with which she-who-must-not-be-named, and maybe it’s not too late to pretend you didn’t see her.

The sales associate returns the wrapped gift along with your credit card. You quickly thank her, looping your arm through the gift bag. Your eyes scan everything in view to see if the coast is clear. There’s no sign of your enemy, so you dart out of the store only to find Josie and this mystery man looking at the window display at the neighboring boutique.

Fuck, just go on your way and don’t engage. Don’t engage! You say to yourself, swiftly walking past them.

You’re busy berating yourself to hear someone calling your name. Stopping in your tracks, you sigh, waiting for Josie to catch up.

“Hey!” Josie chirps like the two of you are friendly.

“Hi…” you say glumly, with furrowed eyebrows. She’s never been nice to you before, so why should you start now?

“Can you not tell Jungkook what you saw?”

You tut, blinking your eyes at her like you owe her a favor. “Look Josie—what you do doesn’t concern me, okay?” you say, walking past her. It’s been a few weeks since you last saw her and she’s cheating on Jungkook with some guy? God, if only you could smack him upside the head right now—Josie too!

You’re a few steps ahead before you stop in your tracks and turn, walking back to her. You huff, “Tell me one thing. If you’re off with some guy behind Jungkook’s back. Why are you still stringing him along, then?”

Josie looks at you, ready to answer, but you raise your hand, stopping her. “Forget I asked. It’s none of my business.”

As you walk off again, there’s a revolting feeling in the pit of your stomach having to keep this to yourself. Jungkook deserves to know the kind of person Josie is, but it’s not your place to say anything. You’re not his best friend anymore. Honestly, you’re unsure what the two of you are and sometimes, there are some things you just shouldn’t say.

Whenever you think about seeing Josie and that mystery man, it makes you want to gag, and throw something at the wall, but mainly at her. Who knows how long she’s been cheating on Jungkook? You tossed and turned in bed, debating whether you should say something to him.

The dinner party is tonight, and if you happen to be alone with him and the Josie topic comes about, then you’ll mention it.

Another thought crosses your mind, what if he thinks you’re making this up because you’re jealous of Josie? Ah, fuck. Either way, you’ll turn out to be the bad guy, right? You’ll either break his heart or you’ll sound like a jealous person.

You don’t want to ruin whatever the two of you have, because you’ve missed the comfort of an old friend and you don’t want to lose it again.

Even though you know the code, you don’t press the four digits. Instead, you knock, waiting for someone to open the door.

“Hey!” Jungkook says, eyes dropping to your hands. “I said you didn’t have to bring anything.” He takes a step back, letting you through, and grabbing the box of Soju.

“I know, but Lana always says, ‘Don’t go anywhere empty-handed’,” you say, flashing a small smile.

“Ah, well, the Soju will go great with tonight’s menu.”

The aroma from Jungkook’s cooking is immaculate. You can almost taste the different dishes he’s prepared.

“Oh my god, it smells so good–like how your mom used to make food for us all the time.” You walk over to the dinner table, displayed with grilled meat, japchae, tteokbokki, buddaejjigae, and a plethora of banchan. “How is your mom? I miss her and her cooking.”

Jungkook chuckles softly. “She’s doing great. Her cooking, though? Not so much. It’s become too salty for my taste—Don’t tell her I told you that.”

You rub your hands together. “Oh, you bet that’s the first thing I’ll say after giving her a hug.”

“Don’t! She’ll disown me. She already hates that I’m a better cook than her,” Jungkook says, opening the box of Soju.

“You should become a private chef or something.”

He opens the refrigerator door, placing the Soju to chill. “Nah—I’ll just cook at home. I’m still learning, testing the waters, y’know?”

“I hate you.”

His eyes perk up with concern. “What did I do this time?”

“You’re good at everything you do—it’s unfair to the rest of us peasants.”

Jungkook relaxes at your answer, thinking he did something wrong again.

Placing the last Soju bottle in the fridge, he turns back, scanning you from head to toe. You’re dressed in an oversized Linkin Park band tee and jeans. He recognizes the shirt, the one you wore religiously during your emo teenage years.

“What? Is there something on my face?” you ask, touching your cheeks.

He shakes his head no and clears his throat. “I, um, wanted to talk to you...about something.”

“Oh?” Your eyes and ears perk up, but you’re interrupted by a commotion coming from the front door.

“The birthday boy is coming! Hide!” Lana says in a hushed tone. She rushes over to you, crouching down behind the counter, pulling you down with her. You chuckle, shaking your head.

With the front door open, Jungkook’s other roommate, Namjoon, walks in first–hand in hand with his girlfriend, and then following is the birthday boy.

Lana peers above the chairs to see if they’ve come in. “Surprise!” She cries out. Everyone’s ears must be ringing at this point.

Jimin gives a half-smile along with a chuckle. “Lana, you ran past us in the driveway.”

Her mouth turns into a cheesy smile. “You caught me. Sorry, I kind of ruined the surprise.”

“Happy birthday Jimin,” you say, walking over to him, arms out for a hug.

“I’m glad to see you and Kook have made up,” Jimin utters. “He needs someone like you around.” He pulls back, squeezing your arms before letting you go.

Namjoon and his girlfriend, Nora, greet you and Jungkook and then take a seat at the dinner table.

You look at Jungkook. “We’ll talk later?”

He hums in agreement. “Yeah, later.”

You’ve missed this—hanging out with old friends. It’s fun to be around people who you’ve known for a long time. You remember Namjoon being a senior when you were a freshman and the stories you’d hear about him—prom king, valedictorian; he did it all when he was in school. And Nora was the perfect woman for him. They’re both working toward their doctorate in philosophy. Their IQs were the equivalent of yours, Lana, Jimin, and Jungkook’s combined.

“Wow, I feel unqualified to be sitting at this table,” you say jokingly. Being an HR specialist was never the plan, but you’ve come to enjoy your job because you like to think you’re a good judge of character when it comes to hiring.

“Let’s stop talking about work, and have some fun! After all, it is Jimin’s birthday. How about a game of Truth or Dare?” Nora asks, looking around the dining table to get some confirmation. “I need verbal consent, please.”

Everyone glances at each other, awaiting answers. There are various responses, and everyone agrees to play.

Nora claps with a joyful squeal. “Okay, Jimin gets to ask first since it’s his birthday. Choose your victim, and anything’s fair game!”

There’s a groan from you and Jungkook. You have a feeling this night will become interesting.

Jimin rubs his hands together and then points to each person. “Eeny, meeny, miny, moe…” He continues the rhyme, and you know he’s itching to choose you or Jungkook, and his finger lands on Jungkook.

“Oh-ho-ho. Please pick dare, or I’ll make you answer something you don’t want to,” he says, playfully sticking out his tongue.

Jungkook narrows his eyes at his devilish roommate. “Don’t test me, Park. I can make your life a living hell, too.”

“Ah yes, I’d like to see you try.”

Your heart’s racing, and your hands are sweaty while gripping the chair’s armrest. Jimin has always been sneaky, and you’re sure he’ll make Jungkook kiss you.

Everyone’s waiting for Jungkook’s answer. He groans before replying, “Fine. Dare.”

Both Lana and Nora let out muffled squeals while you’re holding your breath.

“I dare you…to say something dirty to ____.” Jimin grins from ear to ear, staring at you.

You knew Jimin would be unrelenting when it came to you and Jungkook.

Turning to Jungkook, you say, “If you’re uncomfortable, don’t do it. It’s just a dumb game.”

“Hey! Nora said anything’s fair game and my dare is completely harmless. I could’ve asked you to do something else, but I didn’t,” Jimin refutes.

“It’s fine,” Jungkook says with a scowl. Turning to you, he leans over. His breath is warm against your ear, goosebumps are trickling on your skin, and your hair is standing on its end. He whispers, “You look so pretty—wish I could do this forever.”

“Hey, hey, hey! You’re supposed to say it aloud for everyone to hear,” Jimin protests.

You visibly gulp, returning to a straightened position in your chair. The ten words he said shouldn’t affect you, but it does. The room has grown warmer and you’re practically melting like butter in a hot pan. It’s just a silly game and you’re so over Jimin and his antics.

“Your dare was ‘to say something dirty to ___’. You didn’t specify if it was a whisper or if I had to shout it from the rooftop,” Jungkook chirps, quickly glancing in your direction to make sure you’re okay.

Jimin glares at Jungkook with a blaze of a thousand suns. “It’s implied that you say it out loud so everyone can hear.”

Lana elbows Jungkook. “What did you say? How dirty was it? Like, give us a rating, PG-13, R, NC-17?” He doesn’t answer her, but she looks at you, pointing her fingers to her eyes and then back to you, indicating that you’ll tell her later.

“I’ll let it go this time, but from now on, no whispering, and everyone has to hear what everyone says,” Jimin demands, awaiting confirmation from the group. “Okay, Jungkook, it’s your turn.”

He turns to Lana and bluntly asks, “Would you ever sleep with Jimin?” Jungkook peers at Jimin because he knows that Jimin’s had a crush on Lana since high school.

Lana’s mouth twists before answering, “Yeah, I guess.”

Jimin scoffs, offended by her response. “You guess? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know if you’re any good in bed!”

“And I don’t know if you’re any good in bed!” he chirps back.

“Please—I’ll be the best sex you’ll ever have,” she jeers, crossing her arms.

Jimin stands. “Oh yeah? Prove it.” He retorts, raising his chin in defense.

Everyone ‘oohs’, staring at the two like they’re in a stand-off.

“Prove it! Prove it!” Nora urges, pounding her fists on the table.

Namjoon fakes a laugh, muffling his girlfriend’s pounding. “I’m sorry. She’s had too much to drink. Don’t listen to her.”

Jimin leans forward, hands on the table. “Yeah…prove it.” He raises an eyebrow, wondering if Lana will back down or take on the challenge.

“Right now?” She tilts her head, scanning him from head to toe.

He shrugs. “Mm, what a shame. I guess you’ll never be able to prove it,” he says with a tut.

The chair legs squeak when Lana pushes herself to stand. “When’s the last time you got tested?”

“A month ago,” Jimin quickly replies like no one else is in the room. “I’m clean. You?”

“I’m clean too. You got condoms?”

You sink in your chair, wiping your face, watching these two go off on each other. Honestly, you can’t believe you’re witnessing this.

“Got a whole box ready for you.”

Lana marches over to Jimin, grabbing his hand. “Well, come on birthday boy.”

Your mouth drops, watching the two-run upstairs. “They’re not gonna fuck, are they?” Lana has been in a dry spell for the last year, so you don’t blame her for wanting to get laid.

“Yeah, I think they are,” Jungkook answers. “Yah—” he turns to yell toward Jimin’s room. “Keep it down, will ya?”

The rest of you continue the game, but they’re just questions to get to know each other.

“Jungkook, if there’s one thing you could take back. What would it be?”

He looks in your direction, then plays with his Soju glass, spinning it a few times. You’re biting the inside of your cheek, eyes bouncing from him and then to Nora and Namjoon.

“Um, I’d go back to the day I broke ___’s heart—take everything back.”

The couple looks at each other, forcing a fake laugh. “Well, I can sense the tension between our friends here,” Nora says. “Joonie, baby, didn’t you wanna show me that thing in your room?”

Namjoon’s eyebrows furrow. “What thing?”

Nora stands, tugging his hand, and drags him down the hallway to his room. You can hear the two bickering before the door closes.

You’re silent. Unsure of what to say. You want to move forward, but the past keeps haunting you. Will it always be like this with you and Jungkook? And certainly, there are things you didn’t say that you should say now, but what’s the point?

“We should clean up,” you say, picking up a few plates to stack them. Jungkook follows your lead, helps clear the table, and walks over to set them in the sink.

Turning on the faucet, you rinse off the plates. Jungkook leans back against the kitchen island, eyes scanning over you.

“I meant what I said earlier.”

You close your eyes, then breathe out a sigh. Looking at the boy who used to be your best friend. His eyes hold the galaxy and you get easily lost in them. You’re an explorer longing to find the next big discovery. It’s right in front of you, but at a moment’s notice, you might lose him like you did before.

“Kook…we were kids back then, and you can’t change the past.” You continue to wash the dishes, but it’s hard to focus when he’s near.

Jungkook reaches to turn off the water, gently squeezing your arm to look at him. “Yeah, I know, but I can try to fix it now, right?”

Your hands grip onto the sink, your eyes focused on the water dripping from the spout. You fixate on Jungkook’s words. How can he reconcile a friendship he tore apart? And for what? A girl?

He calls your name, breaking your focus. “Talk to me.”

There’s a tightness in your chest as you turn to him. “Fix it? I don’t want you to fix it.”

“O-kay…then tell me what you want and I’ll do it.”

If it was only that easy.

You close the distance between you, looking at him. “What do I want?” He hums. “I want you to be broken. Wrecked—just like how I was. It took me years to get over you—our friendship. I hate it, Jungkook.”

“I hate what I did to you—”

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “You don’t understand, Kook.” Your heart is aching—like someone reached in, squeezing it as hard as they can.

“Then explain.”

Your eyes meet his. “You. Own. Me,” you say, your index finger pressing into his chest with each word. “These last few weeks have been excruciating. I don’t know who I am when I’m around you. No matter how hard I try to convince myself that I’ve moved on. You’ll always be the one thing that I’ll never be over.”

Your heart is pounding, and every inch of your body is burning to the touch. You didn’t think anyone could ever make you this livid. But as much as you want to hate him, moving back home simply confirms everything you’ve been attempting to hide for the past seven years—you love him.

“I was hurt, too. You don’t think I was?” Jungkook says softly, lifting your chin so you can meet his gaze. “I was devastated, knowing how much I hurt you. I couldn’t eat or sleep for days. Seeing and talking to you every day and then it just stopped. My world was falling apart, and I didn’t know how to fix it. I watched you go off to live your life while I was stuck here with you, haunting me everywhere I went. Philz, the damn grocery store, the park–you were there. There was no escaping you. So yeah, I was wrecked and broken, just like you.”

The narrative you created in your head of Jungkook and Josie was something out of a fairytale. Boy meets girl, they fall in love and live happily ever after. But according to Jungkook, it was hardly the case. You haunted him as much as he haunted you throughout the years.

Chuckling to yourself, you think about how this could've been avoided if one of you had just spoken up. Stepping back from him, you take a breath to calm your nerves. You lean back against the sink, arms folded. “Can I ask you something?”

Jungkook’s eyes flick to you and his body mirrors yours. “I’m an open book, ___.”

“Why did you give up so easily? Why didn’t you fight for me? Our friendship?”

A beat passes, and he doesn’t respond. It’s foolish to think he’d have an answer for you.

Your lips thin, and you breathe out a sigh of frustration. “It’s fine, Kook. Don’t answer. We’ll just go back to the way things were. Have a good life.” You walk off toward the living room and he follows.

“You don’t get to walk away,” he says, shutting the front door when you try to open it.

“Yeah? Watch me!” You turn back to the door, attempting to open it, but Jungkook’s hand is holding it shut.

He grips your arm. “I was scared, okay? I was young and stupid, and scared.”

You turn around and push him back. “Scared? You’re still scared! That’s why you can’t even break up with Josie! She’s cheating on you, by the way! I saw her with some guy glued to her neck. I don’t understand why you can’t just let her go.”

“I’m not scared of breaking up with Josie. I just got comfortable with her being around and didn’t think I could do any better.” Jungkook steps back and reclines on the couch’s armrest.

“You don’t think you can do better than Josie? You’re Jeon Jungkook, of course, you can.”

He forces a laugh, shaking his head no. “I barely graduated high school, practically failed my college classes. I don’t have a steady job and I have no idea what I’m passionate about. So yeah, I didn’t think I could do any better than Josie, until…”

“Until…?”

“Until I saw you at the party. I know it sounds cheesy, but when I saw you standing in the living room. It was like a sign from the universe, waking me up from this auto-pilot life I was living in. Seeing you again really shook me up.”

You could say the same thing about seeing Jungkook again. The universe loved to toy with the two of you, didn’t it?

“And then after our dinner two weeks ago, I broke up with Josie–like officially. I gave all her stuff back. I’m not answering calls or anything. So, I guess when you saw her, she must’ve moved on to the next guy–that’s what I wanted to talk to you about, me breaking up with her.”

There was a sense of relief when he said that because you were ready to fight Josie.

“Oh,” you say softly, taking a step toward him. “I guess I was wrong about you—being scared, I mean.”

Jungkook’s toying with his necklace, circling it around his neck. “I’m still scared.” He steps toward you, waiting for you to look at him. “I’m scared I’m gonna mess this up,” he says.

“How are you going to mess this up? We’re just friends.”

“That’s the thing. I don’t want to be ‘just friends’.”

Your gaze flicks to him and then drops to his lips and back up again. You know what he’s alluding to, but you need to hear those words leave his lips. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He knows you’re teasing him. “Do I really have to spell it out for you?”

“Yes.”

“Because I love you, okay? I’m in love with you. Have always been in love with you, and I’m scared to lose you again.”

Your eyes are glossy, fighting back tears. You’ve longed to hear those words from Jungkook, and like him, you’re afraid of an unknown future, but right now, all that matters is him.

As a tear falls down your cheek, you’re ready to let love in. Let him in. Discover new things. Rediscover old things. You’re ready to be vulnerable, move forward from the past, and let go of the heartache and pain.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe.

Jungkook steps toward you, cupping your face. “No, no, no. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

You shake your head. “No, I do. I’m sorry I didn’t fight harder for you–for our friendship. It’s my fault too.”

His thumbs caress your cheeks. “Hey, can we agree to let the past be in the past and just focus on us now, in the present?”

Your hands cover his, and you nod, flashing a soft smile. “Mhm. I’d like that.”

Jungkook wipes your tear-stained cheeks. “Now, can I do something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time?”

“What’s that?”

His lips finally touch yours. It’s not fervent or haste. It’s soft, uncertain. But you kiss him back. You’re savoring each point of contact. His lips overlapping yours, capturing a hint of your cherry Chapstick. Your eyes are half-lidded and you pull back for air, but he leans in, bringing you back in for more. His nose bumps into yours as he turns his head, deepening the kiss. Your body presses against his, your fists balled up, tugging on his white t-shirt. There’s a glow of excitement and nervousness rushing throughout your body when one of his hands grips your waist and the other is on the small of your back, pushing you further into him.

A low whine leaves his lips when you withdraw. He reaches for another kiss, but you stop him.

“Kook—” you whisper as his forehead touches yours.

“I don’t want to stop kissing you,” he says, kissing your cheek and tracing your jawline. “Don’t think I can ever stop.”

You chuckle. “I don’t want to stop kissing you, either. Maybe we should take this to the bedroom?”

While lying in bed next to Jungkook, you simply enjoy each other’s presence. Your fingers trace stars across his chest and you love how he breathes–his chest rising and falling ever so softly. The sound of his voice vibrates through your fingers and into your body. With one arm wrapped around you and the other resting behind his head, Jungkook tells you about the dreams he had but never dared to pursue–you being one of them.

And as the clock strikes midnight, the magic of you and him didn’t dissipate. It’s here. It’s real.

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagines #fic: things you didn't say

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i-n-t-e-g-r-a · 21 days

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lonely and abandoned 🥺

[send dms and fill my inbox if you'd like to]

#i-n-t-e-g-r-a #lonely #abandoned #lol #doggo #pet #Holly #sis #home alone #dms open #dms welcome #dm me #keep me company #no pervs #let's chat #ask me anything #fill my inbox

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romugh · 2 days

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SENSUAL UNRAVELING- NR

pairing- avenger!natasha romanoff x gp!avenger!reader

cw- 18+!!; top!reader, bottom!gp!natasha, fleshlight use, blowie (n rcv), oral play (fingers; r rcv), slight humiliation, praiseee, i think that's it? :o nerdy'ish'!avenger!nat is my favourite i think guys

wc- 4.8k!

a/n- PART ONE [out of 2 for now; 2nd part out oct, 5th (kinktober list here)] requested! thanks for that, anon, loved writing it :p

request- hey, for nerdnatasha, i was thinking about yn gives a gift to natasha, that it was a fleshlight for when she misses her. So one day natasha was using it because she was feeling horny and yn caught her but she doesnt know, because yn was watching her and wanted to know if she could last enough time or if she would cum as fast as she does with her. and after that you could write whatever you want.

synopsis- you give natasha a gift, end up catching her trying to use it, and help her out.

taglist?- @lost-mortemanghel, @esposadejoyhuerta (feel free to shoot me a dm or comment to be added to my general/specific taglist!)

It had been a rare moment of peace—a quiet night off after days of non-stop missions, a time for you and Natasha to actually relax. You found yourselves in the comfort of your shared room in the compound, with no looming threats or world-ending emergencies. Natasha was nestled on the bed, her glasses perched delicately on the bridge of her nose, engrossed in a book. The sight never failed to stir something warm in your chest. She was so different from the image the world had of her—the fearless Avenger, the Black Widow.

To everyone else, she was a force to be reckoned with, the epitome of confidence and skill. The rest of the Avengers saw her as unshakable, always maintaining that sharp edge, even in the rare moments when she let her guard down. Sure, they’d seen her be softer around you, maybe even affectionate, but never like this—never this open, never vulnerable. This side of Natasha was reserved only for you.

You crawled onto the bed beside her, watching her for a moment, unable to suppress the fond smile that tugged at your lips. “Hi, Natty,” you said, breaking the silence.

You set a small, plain box down beside her. “Got you something,” you said casually, trying to keep the amusement out of your voice.

Natasha blinked, glancing up at you and then down at the box, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “What’s this?” she asked, already wary of your playful tone.

“Just a little something for when you miss me,” you said with a teasing smile, leaning back against the headboard as you watched her reach for the box.

Natasha set her book aside carefully, her fingers hesitating over the lid of the box for a second before she flipped it open. The moment her eyes landed on the fleshlight inside, her entire face turned beet red. Her hand froze mid-air, and she looked up at you in pure shock, as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing.

“I—” she spluttered, her cheeks bright red. “I... What is this?”

Her voice cracked slightly, and you had to bite back a laugh. The poor Avenger looked scandalised, staring down at the fleshlight as if it were some alien object. You knew, even at her most relaxed, Natasha always carried herself with an unbreakable facade around her teammates. They’d never seen her like this—completely disarmed, flustered, and shy. Only you ever got to witness this side of her, the part of her that wasn’t the world’s greatest spy or assassin, but just your Natty.

“Exactly what it looks like, sweet angel,” you said, grinning as you crossed your arms over your chest. “It’s for when I’m not around.”

Natasha’s mouth fell open, her eyes darting between the toy and you, completely flustered. She looked as if she were about to explode from embarrassment. Her hands fumbled with the box, and she quickly tried to push it away from her, glaring at you with wide, mortified eyes.

“You can’t just give me... this!” she squeaked, her voice rising in pitch. “It’s—it’s indecent!”

Now you couldn’t help but chuckle. The way she was trying to scold you, still holding the fleshlight awkwardly in her hands, only made her look even more adorable. She huffed, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose, which had gone as red as her cheeks.

“I thought it was a pretty thoughtful gift,” you teased, your grin widening. “You know, for those moments when I’m not around to... help you out.”

Natasha’s mouth opened and closed like a fish, her brain clearly scrambling for a response. She shook her head, still holding the toy like it might burn her. “I don’t—You can’t expect me to use this!” she stammered, her voice dropping in embarrassment.

This side of Natasha—the shy, blushing woman unsure of how to handle intimacy—was something no one else could ever imagine. To the world, she was known for her strength and control, the embodiment of confidence. But with you, things were different. Your relationship was still new, though the feelings between you had been simmering beneath the surface for some time. Natasha had only recently mustered the courage to ask you out, stepping out of her comfort zone. Initially, she had tried to maintain her tough facade, but it didn’t take long for her to realise that you had already seen her softer, vulnerable side during your friendship. With you, she didn’t need to pretend. She wasn’t Black Widow, the skilled seductress; she was simply Nat, unpracticed and a little unsure when it came to intimacy for her own sake.

You leaned in, your eyes glinting with amusement. "Oh, you’ll grow to love it," you murmured confidently.

She shot you a wide-eyed glare, but the effect was ruined by the way she couldn’t seem to stop blushing. “I will not!” she protested, though it came out far less convincing than she intended.

“Oh really?” You raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by her flustered state. “We’ll see about that.”

Natasha shook her head, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity, but her hands kept betraying her. She was still holding the fleshlight, inspecting it nervously as if she wasn’t sure what to do with it. “I wouldn’t even know how to...” She trailed off, cheeks practically glowing.

You softened, realising that this was still new territory for her. Natasha’s experience with her own body had always been limited, and when she had used it, it was only as a tool for her missions—nothing more. Pleasure was an entirely different concept. She had told you once, with a mixture of shyness and honesty, that she had never really thought of her body that way before meeting you.

But you were patient with her. Always.

You leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. “That’s okay, baby. You’ll figure it out.”

Natasha swallowed hard, her breath hitching at your touch. She glanced back down at the toy, still overwhelmed by the idea. “But... I’d rather have you,” she admitted softly, her voice so innocent it made your chest tighten with affection.

You tilted her chin up gently, making her meet your gaze again. Her wide eyes were still filled with embarrassment, but there was a flicker of curiosity there too.

“And you will,” you reassured her, brushing a strand of hair away from her flushed face. “This is just for when I’m not around to take care of you.” You leaned in closer, voice dropping to a soft whisper. “Think of it as practice.”

Natasha’s blush deepened even more at that, and she fumbled with the toy again, clearly unsure of how to respond. “I... I don’t think I need this kind of practice,” she mumbled under her breath, trying once again to push the box back towards you, but you could see the way her curiosity was slowly getting the better of her.

You chuckled softly, ruffling her hair affectionately. “You say that now, but trust me—once you get used to it, you’re going to love it.”

Natasha groaned, burying her face in her hands. “I can’t believe you...”

“Believe it, Nat,” you teased, pulling her hands away from her face so you could see her flushed expression again. “I’m just a phone call away if you get stuck.”

She shot you a withering look, but there was no hiding the fact that she was fighting a smile. Her fingers lingered on the edge of the box, her eyes flicking back to the toy with a mixture of uncertainty and intrigue.

“You’re terrible,” she muttered, though there was no real bite to her words.

You grinned, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Maybe, but you’ll thank me later.”

Despite her embarrassment, there was no denying she was curious. You knew her well enough to understand that her inexperience and uncertainty just needed a little nudge—and you were more than happy to give it.

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

It had been a long two weeks away on a mission, and your days were consumed by a flurry of burner phones, quick, coded messages, and just a few stolen moments of communication with Natasha. Calls had been scarce—limited to one every three days due to the high-risk nature of the mission. Whenever you spoke, Natasha’s voice had been warm but slightly strained, trying to keep her usual composed tone, though you could hear the subtle edges of worry creeping in. She had missed you, even if she wouldn’t outright say it. The way her voice would catch slightly when she asked, “You’re safe, right?” gave her away every time. She wasn’t used to missing anyone—not in this way.

And truth be told, you missed her just as much. Every message she sent—brief and seemingly innocent little texts like “Just thinking of you” or “Hope everything’s going okay”—made you smile. You knew they were more than they seemed. You could almost picture her sitting in your room, wearing your shirt, her glasses perched on her nose, probably curled up on your bed or buried in a pile of paperwork, trying to distract herself from the fact that you weren’t there.

But now, after those long two weeks, the mission was done, and all you could think about was getting home. The thought of seeing Natasha again, hearing her voice without the distortion of a bad connection, touching her after what felt like forever—it had kept you grounded through every challenge and fight. You imagined how her face would light up, how she’d probably try to hide that small, relieved smile she got whenever you returned from missions safe and sound.

As the lift doors slid open, you stepped onto the shared floor of the Avengers Compound, letting out a sigh of relief. The space was quiet—eerily so—considering you expected Natasha to be in her usual spot on the couch, her legs tucked under her, probably with a book in hand. It was her routine. Whenever you returned, she’d be there waiting, pretending she wasn’t counting the minutes until your arrival. She’d look up casually, as if she hadn’t been thinking about you the entire time.

But today? Nothing.

You furrowed your brow as you dropped your bag by the door, your eyes scanning the empty space. “Nat?” you called softly, half expecting her to pop up from somewhere in the apartment, maybe having gotten caught up in something in the kitchen or the bathroom.

No answer.

Your stomach twisted slightly, a brief flicker of disappointment settling in. Maybe she was out with the team, or training in the gym. It wasn’t like her to not be here when you came back, but you tried to push the thought aside. She could have been anywhere in the compound, after all.

Faintly, though, you heard something else—a soft noise, so quiet that if the apartment wasn’t this silent, you might’ve missed it. Your curiosity piqued, and you followed the sound down the hallway towards your bedroom, heart racing in anticipation. As you approached, the noise became clearer. Ragged breathing. A few soft gasps. And then your name, whispered so delicately it made your pulse quicken.

You froze just outside the door, heat already building in your chest. Natasha’s voice was unmistakable, but it was the tone—the need in it—that sent a wave of heat coursing through you. With a mixture of excitement and pride, you realised exactly what was happening.

Slowly, you inched the door open, your eyes adjusting to the dim light of the bedroom. There, on the bed, was Natasha. Your Natasha. She was sitting up against the headboard, her shirt bunched up around her waist. Her hair was tousled, and her glasses—those adorable glasses—were still perched on her nose, slightly fogged from her body heat, smudged, and slightly askew, as if she’d tried to adjust them earlier. The fleshlight was clutched in her hand, and she was trying, desperately trying, to use it. But the sight before you was more than just arousing—it was endearing in a way only Natasha could pull off.

Her movements were awkward, hesitant, and her face was flushed with a mix of frustration and desire. You could see it in the way they were clumsy, uncoordinated—she didn’t know how to use it properly. Her brow was furrowed in frustration, and her breath came in short, needy gasps. Her hips stuttered as she awkwardly thrust into the toy, but it wasn’t enough.

Natasha bit her lip, her brow furrowed in concentration as she tried to work the toy over herself. But you could see it wasn’t working. Her hips stuttered, and her breath hitched, but there was no rhythm, no real pleasure in what she was doing. You knew why. Natasha had never been good at pleasing herself. She needed you—your touch, your guidance. Without it, she was lost.

Her whimpers filled the air, soft and needy, as she tried to imagine it was your touch, your body. But it wasn’t. The toy couldn’t replicate the warmth of your hand, the slickness of your fingers, the way you knew exactly how to take her apart.

For all her skills as an Avenger, Natasha was unpracticed in this realm. She had never had to learn how to bring herself pleasure before you entered her life. She was still learning—still new to the idea that her body was hers, that it could bring joy and intimacy instead of just completing a task. You’d been patient with her, guiding her through these moments, helping her understand that she could be vulnerable, open, even needy, and it was okay. But now, you stood in the doorway, watching, knowing that she was trying to fill that space without you. The soft gasps escaping her lips, the quiet, frustrated whimpers—she was trying, but it wasn’t working.

The pride in your chest swelled. Natasha had never needed anyone like this before. She had been fine for years on her own, never relying on anyone emotionally, let alone for pleasure. But now? Now she was here, lost without you, and the sight of her in this state—glasses fogged up, brow furrowed in frustration as she chased a release she couldn’t quite reach—was enough to make your heart race.

You watched, your heart pounding with a mix of arousal and affection. She was so desperate, so needy, and yet she had no idea what to do without your control.

You pushed yourself off the doorframe, a small smile playing on your lips as you approached her. “You know,” you said casually, breaking the silence and causing her to freeze, “you could’ve just told me when we called two days ago.”

Natasha’s entire body jolted, and her head whipped around to face you, eyes wide with shock. The toy slipped from her grasp as her hands flew to cover herself, her face turning a deep shade of red.

“Wha—” she spluttered, clearly mortified, her voice caught somewhere between a gasp and a whimper. Her glasses had slipped down, askew, fogging up even more from the heat of the moment. “You-You’re home early!”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms as you took a few more steps into the room, feigning innocence. “Am I? Or am I right on time?”

Natasha groaned, burying her face in her hands, clearly embarrassed at being caught. She tried to pull the sheets up over herself, but her hands were trembling too much to do so properly.

“You didn’t have to do it all on your own, you know,” you teased, your voice soft but dripping with amusement. “I’m just a phone call away, remember? Isn’t that what I said when I gave you that thing?”

Her blush deepened, and she turned her head away, mumbling something unintelligible under her breath. But you caught the embarrassment in her eyes, the slight frustration as well, as if she’d been trying so hard and just couldn’t get herself there.

You took a step closer, sitting down on the edge of the bed, your tone softening. “You tried, huh?”

Natasha swallowed hard, still refusing to meet your gaze, her cheeks flushed. “I... I didn’t know it would be... like this,” she admitted quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Like what?” you asked, your voice soft now, coaxing.

She bit her lip, clearly struggling to find the right words. “It’s... different without you,” she confessed, her voice so small and unsure that it tugged at your heart. “I didn’t know it would feel so... empty.”

You felt a surge of affection for her in that moment. For the Avenger who could take down armies, outwit anyone, and yet here she was, vulnerable and flustered, struggling with something so deeply personal. No one else in the world would ever see this side of her, and that made it all the more precious to you.

“Well,” you said, reaching out to gently tilt her chin up so she could finally meet your eyes. “Good thing I’m home now, huh?”

You could see the mix of anticipation and nervousness flicker across Natasha’s face as she sat there, her body still flushed from the earlier attempt. Her breath was still shallow, and her glasses had slipped slightly down her nose, a subtle reminder of how overwhelmed she had been. You took a deep breath, the moment charged with a heady combination of tension and affection. “Close your eyes for me, Natty,” you said softly, your voice a warm caress. “I want you to just feel, okay?”

Natasha hesitated for only a moment, but the trust she had in you made her comply. Slowly, she let her eyelids flutter shut, her body relaxing ever so slightly as she surrendered herself to you.

You reached for the discarded toy, holding it up between the two of you. “So,” you began, your voice teasing but soft, “I’m going to show you how it’s done.”

Natasha’s breath caught in her throat, her eyes remaining tightly shut, just as you had asked. Though she couldn’t see the toy, you could feel the way her body reacted—still flustered, still embarrassed, but with a spark of curiosity that had driven her to try in the first place. Slowly, hesitantly, she nodded, her voice barely a whisper. “Please.”

You smiled, the warmth in your expression making her heart flutter even though her eyes stayed closed. “Good girl,” you praised softly, and the words sent a shiver down her spine. Her body tensed, but not from fear—rather, from the anticipation of what was to come. You could see the way her breath quickened, the way her hands trembled slightly as you moved closer.

Gently, you guided her back against the headboard, your fingers trailing down her arm as you coaxed her to relax. “First,” you whispered, your voice low and soothing, “you have to be patient. Let yourself feel every little touch. Don’t rush.” Natasha nodded, biting her lip as she tried to focus on your words, but it was clear that she was still nervous, still unsure.

You could feel her tension, the way her muscles were wound tight from the anticipation. But you were in no rush. Slowly, deliberately, you leaned down, your lips brushing against her neck as you murmured, “Relax, baby. I’ve got you.”

Your hand slipped down to her thigh, your touch firm but gentle as you parted her legs, creating space between them. Natasha’s breath hitched, her body responding instinctively to your touch. She was still embarrassed, still blushing furiously, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned into you, her body seeking comfort in your closeness.

Carefully, you positioned the fleshlight, your fingers wrapping around its base as you guided it toward her. “I’m going to go slow, okay?” you whispered, your lips brushing against her ear. “Tell me if it’s too much.”

Natasha nodded, her eyes fluttering open slightly as she braced herself for the sensation. Her breath came in soft, shaky gasps as you slowly eased the toy over her length, your movements deliberate and controlled. You could feel her body tense, her hips instinctively bucking slightly as she tried to adjust to the sensation.

“Shhh, easy,” you murmured, your hand gently pressing against her hip to steady her. “Let me do the work.”

Natasha whimpered softly, her breath hitching as you began to move the toy, your strokes slow and rhythmic. Her body trembled under your touch, and you could feel the way her muscles quivered with every gentle glide of the toy. It wasn’t long before her hands gripped the sheets, her knuckles turning white as she tried to hold back the moans that threatened to escape.

“You feel that?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you continued the slow, deliberate movements. “That’s what you’ve been missing.”

Natasha’s response was a shaky nod, her lips parted as she struggled to catch her breath. She was still so shy, so uncertain, but you could see the way her body was responding to the pleasure, the way her hips bucked ever so slightly in time with your movements. She was learning—slowly, but surely—and the sight of her in this state, so vulnerable and needy, made your heart swell with affection.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” you whispered, your voice filled with praise. “Just let go. I’ve got you.”

The sound of your voice seemed to soothe her, and slowly, Natasha’s body began to relax. Her whimpers turned to soft moans, her head falling back against the headboard as she surrendered to the pleasure. You could see the way her body responded to your every touch, the way her chest rose and fell with each ragged breath.

You leaned in closer, your lips brushing against her ear as you whispered, “I love seeing you like this.”

Natasha’s breath hitched at your words, and she moaned softly, her hips jerking involuntarily as the pleasure began to build. Her hands gripped the sheets tighter, her body trembling as she teetered on the edge of release.

And then, with one final, deliberate stroke, you pushed her over the edge.

Natasha’s moan was loud and unrestrained, her body arching off the bed as she came, her release crashing over her like a wave. You held her through it, your hand gentle but firm as you continued the slow, rhythmic movements, guiding her through every shudder, every tremor of pleasure.

When it was over, you discarded the toy to the side as Natasha collapsed back against the headboard, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. Her glasses had slipped down her nose again, but she made no move to fix them. Instead, she lay there, completely spent, her body trembling with the aftershocks of her release.

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead as you gently wrapped your hand around her still semi-hard cock. “See?” you murmured, your voice filled with affection. “Told you you’d love it.”

Natasha let out a shaky laugh, her cheeks still flushed from the intensity of it all. “You were right,” she admitted softly, her voice hoarse with pleasure. “I guess I owe you a thank you.”

You hummed softly, stroking her with care, feeling the way her body reacted to even the gentlest touch. “Mmm, you do,” you teased, leaning down to kiss her collarbone. Natasha’s breathing hitched, her body still hyper-sensitive from the release. “But first, let me clean you up, Natty.”

Her gaze flickered down toward her softening cock, still glistening with her own release, and you saw the way her face flushed in embarrassment. You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “No need to be shy, baby. You did so well for me.”

Natasha swallowed hard, her blush deepening, but she nodded. She always got a little embarrassed after, unsure of herself. But you were never in a rush, and you wanted her to feel cared for. You kissed your way down her body, your lips ghosting over the planes of her chest, across her stomach, until you reached her cock.

The moment your lips brushed the tip, Natasha’s entire body shuddered. “Wait—” she breathed, her voice barely a whisper. “I’m... still sensitive.”

“I know,” you replied softly, kissing the underside of her cock, your tongue teasing the slit just enough to make her whimper. “But I want to make sure you’re clean, okay? Just relax for me.”

Her body tensed beneath your touch, her legs trembling as she tried to hold still. You were gentle, your tongue tracing along the shaft, cleaning the lingering slickness with slow, deliberate strokes. Natasha’s fingers dug into the sheets, her breath ragged as her body tried to process the mix of overstimulation and pleasure.

“Shh, baby,” you cooed softly, your tongue flicking over her again. “You’re so good for me. You can take it.”

She moaned softly in response, her hips jerking slightly, though she did her best to stay still. You felt her cock begin to twitch in your hand, and you grinned up at her, watching her as she tried to hold back the sensations overwhelming her.

As you continued, your hand slid up, brushing her lips with your fingers. “Open,” you commanded softly, your voice gentle but firm. Natasha hesitated for only a moment before parting her lips obediently, allowing you to slide two fingers inside her mouth. Her eyes fluttered closed, her tongue immediately lapping at your fingers.

“That’s it,” you murmured, your voice low and soothing as you continued to clean her shaft, making sure not a single drop of her release was left behind. Your tongue moved with purpose, licking and slurping her clean, all while your gaze stayed fixed on her. The sight of her lips wrapped around your fingers made your heart race. “Such a good girl,” you whispered, the words slipping out like a soft caress, watching the way she responded to every touch, the way your warm breath contrasted her cold, damp cock.

Her moans were muffled by your fingers, but you could feel the vibrations as she sucked on them, her lips quivering with each gentle motion. You could see the way she was still sensitive, overstimulated but completely surrendering to you. Slowly, you added a third finger, watching the way her mouth stretched to accommodate them. You pressed against her tongue, feeling her throat constricting as she tried to adjust. Natasha whimpered around your fingers, her eyes squeezed shut, but she didn’t stop.

“Good job, baby, look at you take all three for me,” you whispered, your voice soothing as your fingers kept pressing gently against her tongue. “You can do it, baby. I know you can.”

Her breath came in shallow gasps, her body quivering, but she nodded, determined to please you. She took your fingers deeper, her lips closing around them fully, and you could see the way she was giving herself over to you completely.

“Good girl,” you murmured, your thumb brushing over her cheek as she sucked on your fingers, her moans soft and needy. “You look so beautiful like this.”

Natasha moaned again, her body trembling beneath you, her cock twitching in your hand as you slowly stroked it, relishing the way she reacted to your touch. Having cleaned her thoroughly, you now took her completely in your mouth, intent on keeping her pristine and ready for what was to come. You could feel her release building, evident in the way her hips jerked in small, involuntary movements, and you knew she was close. Your careful, deliberate movements brought her right back to the edge, and you were determined to swallow every drop.

You kept her in place, your fingers pressing deep into her mouth, feeling the slight gag and the way her throat kept constricting around you. Her entire body quivered as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her, her release pouring into your mouth as you took everything, not letting a single drop escape.

When she finally came down, her body slumping back into the bed, utterly spent, you withdrew your fingers gently, wiping away the tears that had gathered in the corners of her eyes. Her breathing was ragged, her cheeks flushed, and her glasses, now completely fogged, sat crooked on her nose.

“There,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple. “All clean.” You smiled, leaning in to kiss her softly on the lips. “Perfect,” you whispered, your voice filled with warmth and affection.

Natasha blinked up at you, her eyes heavy with exhaustion but also something else—a deep sense of trust and surrender. “You didn’t have to,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, but you heard the emotion behind it.

“I wanted to,” you replied, brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face. “Besides, you’re mine to take care of.”

She smiled, her eyes shining with affection as she sank deeper into the bed, her body trembling with the aftershocks. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice soft and content.

You kissed her again, slow and tender, as she relaxed fully into you, the taste of herself lingering on your lips and in your mouth grounding her in the moment. “No need to thank me,” you murmured against her soft lips. “You deserve all of this.”

#romugh slays #romugh writes #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff reader #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #romugh's requests #bottom natasha romanoff #romugh's nerd!natty #nerdy natty forever my love

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