#never taking off my mask ever again | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gothgoblinbabe · 2 months ago

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She Wolf

A/N: I said I was gonna get this done and it took me way too long and has an absurd word count but I am incapable of holding in word vomit! Inspired by She Wolf by Shakira cause idc its GOOD and it got me thinking' so here it is. Also you don't have to listen to the song as you read but I think It's fun!

Summary: You've got a crush on your best friend and he's a bit of a dick. He regrets it and tries to apologize but you're already trying to push yourself to move on any way you can, even if it's in some shady club you'd never been to before.

Warnings: MDNI 18+, swearing, Logan's kind of an asshole for a minute, Possessive/jealous!Logan, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), friends to lovers cause that's my fave, fem reader, mutant reader, unnamed creepy guy (?) aaaand Logan absolutely has a pain kink. I think that's it but if there's any I missed please let me know!

Word Count: 7K (im so sorry but I'm not though)

divider credit here

“Are you ever gonna tell him?”

You looked up from your desk towards Ororo’s voice, sighing and taking your glasses off your nose.

“God, I don’t know, ‘ro. I don’t think I should. It’s just going to end with me being humiliated and him never wanting to even be in the same room as me again.”

You’d had a crush on Logan Howlett since the day you first walked through the doors of the mansion six months ago. You’d probably be considered best friends by now with how much time you’d spend together, doing jack shit around the mansion on your days off. Just about everyone could tell he had a soft spot for you and that you had one for him. Logan was a classic ‘tough guy’, constantly trying to hide his kind nature with a hard exterior, but it took only a couple weeks for you to crack that barrier. You weren’t exactly a seemingly ‘soft’ type either.

You’d spent the majority of your life before you joined the X-men hoping from couch to couch and hitching rides with strangers, not really having a destination or a place to call home. You’d been dropped off at a church when you were fourteen, around the time you started to turn every full moon. Your parents couldn’t live with having to chain their mutant daughter in their basement once a month, and so they dropped you where they thought you’d find some ‘help’. You’d been passed from foster home to foster home till you were eighteen, each one passing you up the moment they realized you were not like them. It was always a slip of the mask, something setting you off to make you so enraged your eyes gleam yellow and your sharp canines make an unfortunate appearance. You took off the second you could and being on the road came with its fair share of creeps; men with terrible intentions looking for opportunities. You’d never wanted to hurt anyone - truly - but when cornered by a creep, it was hard to think anyone would miss them. A couple of local newspapers caught on, debating where the wolf that tore men to shreds had gone. You weren’t an animal. You just had teeth like one.

Knowing you couldn’t lurk in town much longer, you’d hitchhiked your way to a camp occupied with people like you; lost with no place to call home. It was there that you’d met a couple of mutants who told you about Charles Xavier and the place that seemed completely unreal until you set your eyes on it. That felt like a lifetime ago by now.

“I think you're underestimating how he feels about you,” Ororo said, bringing you back to reality. She was sat on the edge of your bed, flipping through one of your magazines as you worked at your computer to try and make a lesson plan for the coming week.

“I think you’re overestimating how he feels about me,” you let out a short laugh, shaking your head.

Just as she was about to retort, you both heard someone shout your names from the hallway. You looked at each other curiously and left the room, hearing shouting again.

“Are you guys gonna play Monopoly with us or what?”

You both giggled and made your way downstairs towards Scott’s voice. Him, Jean, Marie, Bobby and Logan were all sat in the living room, the game already set up on the coffee table. Bobby and Marie were picking out their game pieces, assigning everyone else to their own piece.

“Okay, Logan, you’re gonna be the dog,” Marie smiled, dropping the little metal piece into the palm of his hand.

He was definitely not as amused, “why do I have to be a damn dog?”

Ignoring him, she handed another piece out to Jean, “you’re the thimble.”

She then handed the boat to Scott, the top hat to you, and the iron to Ororo. You all began the game after Scott painstakingly over-explained the rules and how to play.

It was a good bit into the game that you all became distracted with conversation, eventually leaving the board game untouched. The topic of compatibility came up somehow, the conversation focused on the joy of Bobby and Marie.

“I think anyone would be lucky to have what you guys have,” Ororo smiled, shifting her gaze between the two of them.

“And what we have, obviously,” Scott joked, hanging his arm around Jean.

“Gross,” Logan chimed in, taking a sip of the beer he’d hidden in the back of the fridge.

“I think someone is jealous,” Ororo said in a singsong voice, poking his arm.

“Of having someone hang on me all the time? No, thanks,” he scoffed.

As stupid as it was, it made you a little sad to hear he had no interest in even entertaining the idea. It wasn’t a surprise, but still a disappointment nonetheless.

Ororo brought up your name and your eyes went huge, silently begging her to keep her mouth shut.

“You don’t seem to mind her hanging on you all the time. I think you’d be cute together,” she said, smiling mischievously at you. Scott and Jean agreed and you had never wanted to smash your head into a coffee table as much as you did in that moment.

“Nah, definitely not my type of girl.”

It was just seven words, out quick without a second thought, and yet it felt like you’d been punched in the gut. You couldn’t take your eyes off the monopoly board on the table, avoiding everyone’s gaze.

Definitely not my type of girl.

“I think I should head to bed, it’s getting late,” you mumbled, keeping your head down to hide your blushed face as you got up from the couch and practically ran out of the room and up the stairs.

“What the hell was that?” Scott scolded Logan the moment you were out of sight.

“That was so mean,” Ororo chimes in, backhanding him on the arm.

“I didn’t mean to be,” Logan said nervously , shrugging his shoulders, “…do you think she’s mad at me?”

“Probably more hurt than mad,” Jean said honestly.

“Shit,” he sighed, putting his beer down to rub his face with his hands, “what do I say?”

“Not that,” Marie replied, “why did you even say that anyway? You could’ve just said no.”

“I think you like her and you’re being mean so that she wont like you back because you’re afraid,” Ororo said after a moment of silence.

Logan sat quiet for a moment, his hands still over his face.

“Am I that easy to read?” His voice was muffled through his hands.

The rest of them couldn’t help exchanging knowing smiles.

“So you finally admit it,huh? You’ve got a crush,” Scott teased.

Logan moved his hands from his eyes to glare daggers at him, “you shut your fucking mouth or I’ll shove that monopoly board where the sun doesn’t shine.”

“I think that’s a yes,” Jean whispered to her boyfriend.

“Talk to her when you see her tomorrow. We’re not going to let you hurt her feelings just because you can’t accept your own,” Ororo advised, lightly patting him on the shoulder.

“Do you think she’s even gonna talk to me?”

“Only one way to find out.”

───────♡──────────────♡───────

Logan tried to catch up with you the next day, always seeing you as you were leaving a room he was entering or passing by and even then, you ignored his calls of your name.

It was a little after dinner now and because it was a weekend, a couple of kids were up playing the PlayStation in the living room. Bobby and Marie sat with them, taking turns with the controllers.

Logan entered the room after about three laps around the mansion, mentioning your name to the both of them.

“Have you guys seen her? I’ve been trying to talk to her all day, she keeps running from me.”

“Can’t really blame her,” Bobby muttered, his eyes never leaving the TV screen as he button smashed.

“She’s in her room,” Marie answered before Logan could come up with a retort, “she went up before dinner, said she wasn’t hungry.”

He groaned, running a hand through his hair, “she’s skipping dinner now too, great.”

“Go talk to her!” She insisted, shooing him away with a wave of her hand.

He made his way to the stairs and up to your bedroom, knocking lightly on your door. Hearing nothing, he knocked again, a little harder. Still, nothing.

“You can’t avoid me forever, you know. I wanna talk about yesterday, I was a dick.”

Silence. Now he was a little worried. He tentatively grabbed the doorknob and turned, cracking it open a bit.

Your bed was made, your desk was neatly organized and you were nowhere to be seen. He noticed your purse was gone from the usual spot you’d leave it in and your closet was open, a couple garments and some shoes strewn about on the floor. It looked like you’d gotten dressed and dipped. He figured maybe Ororo or Jean might know where you were, leaving your room and looking for them instead. He found them shortly after, huddled in the kitchen. Again, he asked if either of them knew where you were.

“She’s in her room, she went up before dinner,” Ororo answered.

“No, she’s not. And her purse is gone.”

Both women turned to each other with the same worried expression.

───────♡──────────────♡───────

Having tried your cellphone about thirteen times from just about everybody’s phones, they all decided they had to tell Charles. He used his ability to connect with every mutant on the planet to try and locate you, visualizing with his eyes closed. Everyone stood in his study, anxiously awaiting his conclusion. After a moment of silence, he started to silently chuckle to himself.

“What’s so funny?” Logan asked immediately, crossing his arms and furrowing his eyebrows.

“I’m afraid you all have your work cut out for you,” he replied, finally opening his eyes.

“So, where is she?” Ororo asked, worry in her voice.

“There is a club called The Nightcrawler - “ Charles began to explain, but Logan interjected impatiently.

“Club? What, like a book club?” He nearly scoffed. There was no way you were at some sleazy nightclub in the city. You were a homebody and an introvert, neither of which made clubbing enjoyable.

“Maybe we should just let her have fun,” Jean began to say, but Logan was already halfway out the door.

Uncharacteristically, you found yourself dressed to the nines in the middle of a dance floor full of people. You’d spent a while trying outfits in your room, searching for something you could actually wear out that wasn’t sweatpants and a hoodie. You’d settled on a halter top that tied at your neck and in the back and a pair of ridiculously tight pants that you’d bought forever ago and never had the guts to wear. You ended up standing in front of the mirror, choosing a pair of very cute but very uncomfortable shoes and looking over the outfit. If you weren’t Logan’s ‘type of girl’, you sure as hell were somebody’s. Trying to get yourself out there may be the best solution to forgetting the heart-crushing infatuation you had with your best friend who would never see you as anything more.

“I feel ridiculous,” you chuckled to yourself, turning in the mirror to see the back of your outfit. You did look good, just super out of your comfort zone. You grabbed your bag and ended up slipping out when everyone was eating dinner. That’s how you ended up where you were, pushing your way through the crowd of people with a drink in your hand. You passed the raised lounge area and felt a hand on your shoulder, making you turn suddenly.

“Hey, you wanna dance?”

He was tall, leaning down a little to shout over the music. He was pretty good looking but didn’t look like Logan in the slightest, which you realized was exactly the point of going out tonight. He was dressed nice and smelled like expensive cologne.

“Sure, why not?”

As you abandoned your half finished drink on a table and let him pull you a little further into him, a familiar song started to thump through the speakers.

“I love this song!” You exclaimed, letting the nameless guy rest his hands on your hips.

S.O.S., she's in disguise

There's a she wolf in disguise

Coming out, coming out, coming out

“Ironic,” you muttered under the music.

───────♡──────────────♡───────

Logan walked ahead of Ororo, Jean and Scott, his long legs taking him much further at a much faster pace.

“Logan, slow down!” Ororo called out, jogging a bit to catch up with him.

“What if she didn’t even want to be there? What if some guy dragged her there?”

“Oh,” Jean laughed, “ I see. You’re jealous.”

“No.”

“Yup.”

“Nope.”

“So you’d be fine if we walked in there and she is with a guy?”

Logan slowed his pace as they approached the entrance, “sure, whatever,” feigned disdain in his voice.

The second the door opened, the bass of the music was overwhelming. It was dim, save for a few colorful lights projecting around the room. The four of them were squished together near the door, trying to pick you out in a sea of moving people.

“This is gonna be like finding a needle in a haystack,” Scott shouted.

“Not necessarily,” Ororo replied, a smug smile on her face.

“What?” Logan furrowed his eyebrows.

She pointed across the room and he followed her gaze.

There's a she wolf in the closet

Open up and set it free

There's a she wolf in your closet

Let it out so it can breathe

You didn’t even look like you. He’d never seen you in anything that showed that much skin or any clothes that even hugged you like that, for that matter.

And you were with a guy.

Sitting across a bar, staring right at her prey

It's going well so far, she's gonna get her way

“So, what did we tell you?” Jean shouted, waving her hand in front of his glaring eyes.

“Just some kid,” he replied dismissively, turning to her, “doesn’t mean anything anyway.”

“You sure?” Scott nudged his shoulder, making Logan look towards you again.

That kid had his hands up the sides of your top with his head craned down to kiss your neck, your back to his chest. You were giggling, playfully smacking his arm. Truthfully, you thought the attention was nice for a change. After trying so hard for too long to get Logan to notice you, it felt good to have someone pay attention to you in that way.

Not looking for cute little divos or rich city guys

I just want to enjoy

By having a very good time

And behave very bad in the arms of a boy

You felt his hands squeeze your hips a little harder, enough for his nails to dig into your skin. Out of instinct, you felt your canine teeth start to poke against your lower lip. You tried in vain to tug his hands from you, only making him tighten his grip.

The switch in demeanor was obvious even from across the dark room, your smile turning into a grimace that bared your sharp teeth. You yanked the sleeves of his jacket to make him finally let go, turning around while he still had his arms ghosted around you.

S.O.S., she's in disguise

“Touch me like that again, you son of a bitch, and I will rip you to fucking shreds.”

You gathered fistfuls of his shirt, bringing him down to eye level so he could see your snarling teeth and gleaming eyes as a hint that you weren’t bluffing.

There's a she wolf in disguise

Coming out, coming out, coming out

Before anyone could even tell him to stay put, Logan had already disappeared into the crowd of people.

“God damn it,” Scott huffed, following Jean and Ororo when they went after him.

“Logan!” Jean yelled, trying to grab his jacket to slow him and only having him slip out of her grip.

There's a she wolf in the closet

Let it out so it can breathe

“Shit, I’m kinda into the fangs. What, you gonna bite me?” He was whispering in your ear, your hands still on his shirt. Before you could do something you were going to regret, you felt someone tug your upper arm and pull you away from him.

“Come on,” Logan snapped, “we’re leaving.”

“What the hell are you doing here? What do you mean we?” You yelled back. You didn’t want to stay anywhere near that guy but you weren’t ready to leave either and sure as hell not with Logan dragging you out like an angry parent.

“Hey, she doesn’t really look like she wants to leave with you, man,” the other guy interjected, keeping a grip on you by looping his fingers through one of the belt loops on your pants.

“Yeah? She doesn’t want to stay with you either, jackass,” Logan moved his hand from your arm to hold your hand instead, “she’s not interested.”

What the hell had gotten into him? You felt like you were in the middle of a tug of war with two dogs.

“No one’s gonna fucking ask what I want, right?” You tried to complain, neither of them hearing you.

“Your little doggy girlfriend here was just about to take care of me. You mad about it?” The other guy laughed and you nearly lunged at him, Logan’s hand tugging you back. He intended to pull you away so he could get to him first, but Scott, Jean and Ororo jumped in just in time.

“Alright - enough, enough, we’re leaving!” Jean yelled, pushing you all towards the door, Logan dragging you the whole way. When you finally were out in the cool evening air, you angrily yanked your hand from his.

“What are you guys doing here?” You asked, turning to Logan, “and what the fuck was that?”

“What was that? You’re welcome - “

“I didn’t ask you to come save me - from what, having a good time?”

“Oh, yeah, it looked like you were having a lot of fun,” he scoffed, “he had you by the hip so hard he probably left a bruise.”

He instinctively reached his hand out to check and you swatted it away, “Don’t - Don’t touch me!”

None of them had ever heard you sound so pissed off and you’d definitely never snapped at Logan like that before.

You took a deep breath and reached down to slip off your shoes, leaving you barefoot on the concrete.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized to the rest of them,” but why are you guys here?”

“You left without saying anything, we couldn’t find you and we wanted to be sure you were safe,” Ororo sighed, hugging you in relief, “we’re so glad you’re okay.”

You hugged her back.

“I just - I wanted to disappear for a while,” you explained apologetically, avoiding Jean and Scott’s gaze.

“Do you know how stupid it was to run off and not tell anyone where you were going?” Logan scolded you, but Jean clicked her tongue at him.

“Shut it! Enough from you! You’ve done enough damage control!”

The ride home was almost silent, your tired body slumped in the backseat between Scott and Jean, until Ororo spoke from the front passenger seat.

“Honey, I don’t mean this in a bad way, but,” she paused, thinking over her words, “what were you gonna do to that guy if we hadn’t stopped you?”

You understood what she meant immediately.

“What, you think I was going to kill him?” you asked, crossing your arms and leaning forward in your seat, “I wasn’t. I don’t do that unless I have to and you know even then I hate doing it.”

“I know…so, what were you doing with a guy like him anyway?” she asked, trying to move on from the question that had clearly made you upset, “he seemed kinda shady.”

Logan was gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles were white, dreading the answer.

You shrugged your shoulders, staring at the synthetic fabric of your pants.

“Liked the attention, I guess,” you answered honestly, kind of hoping you could throw anyone off the idea of you being interested in Logan, “it’s been awhile since a guy has liked me like that.”

“He only wanted one thing from you anyway,” he scoffed from the front seat. Ororo glared at him, about to tell him to mind his business before you stopped her.

“And I can’t want it either?”

That shut everybody up and Ororo turned to him again, a look on her face that said ‘you asked, you got the answer’.

You tried to bolt to your room when you all got home but Logan was quick to follow, catching up with you to stand in your path in the hallway outside of your bedroom.

“What’s going on with you?”

“Leave me be.”

You tried to dodge around him but he stuck his arm out.

“Logan.”

He raised his eyebrows, waiting for you to continue speaking.

“Move.”

“I’m not leaving you alone until you tell me what’s going on with you. You don’t disappear like that, ever. And I wanna talk to you about last night - “

“There’s nothing to talk about. Goodnight,” you huffed, ducking under his arm and opening your door.

“I care about you, you know, I was worried,” he began to explain.

You tried to slam the door in his face but he stuck his foot out, jamming his boot between the door and the doorframe. You let go in defeat and turned away, gathering your pajamas as if he wasn’t in the room.

“Yeah? Why?,” you scoffed, trying with everything in you to bite your tongue but failing miserably, “I’m not your type of girl. What’s there to worry about?”

Logan’s face fell. He pushed the door closed behind him.

“Is that what this is about? That’s why you went out?”

“Why do you care?”

You still had your back to him, furiously shuffling through clothing in your dresser.

“Stop.”

You felt his hands on your arms as he came up behind you, paralyzing you in your spot.

You let him turn you around gently, almost chest to chest.

“I didn’t mean that.”

“You don’t have to lie to spare my feelings -“

“I’m not.”

He leaned back a little to force you to look him in the eye.

“I only said that - listen, I only said that because - “ Logan paused, biting his lip till it nearly bled, but you shook your head and slipped by him again.

“Please, don’t treat me like I’m stupid, Logan.”

You sounded so exasperated, tears forming in your eyes when you turned your back to him.

“Fuck,” he sighed, “I only said that because I didn’t want you to like me.”

You wiped the tear that rolled down your cheek and turned back to him, a confused expression on your face.

“It worked, are you happy?”

“No, I’m not - “

“Well, guess it backfired. Get out of my room.”

You were face to face again, keeping your mouth in a tight line so your lip wouldn’t quiver. It felt stupid to cry in front of him, but you couldn’t really help it once it started.

“Oh, god, please, don’t cry,” he begged, leaning down and actually bringing a hand up to your face to wipe away a tear that rolled down your cheek. You wanted to smack it away, tell him again to just get the hell out , but you couldn’t.

“Why would you do that?” You mumbled out quietly, finally letting the overwhelming feeling of sadness cancel out any rage you had for him. You couldn’t look him in the eye again, concentrating on the throw rug you were standing on.

“I’m so sorry, princess, I am. I’m really fucking stupid,” he huffed.

You were surprised by the softness of his voice and finally tore your eyes from the floor. He’d called you that before, but usually in a teasing way. This time it sounded endearing, like a plea of your name.

“And what happened there, at the club? ‘She’s not interested’, what was that about?” You continued.

He sighed, still trying to figure out what exactly it was that he wanted to say. He realized there probably wasn’t much of a way to beat around the bush and he groaned, closing his eyes as he stood in front of you to make spilling his guts a little less agonizing.

“I like you - like you a lot, and I was an asshole because I figured if you hated me, you couldn’t like me back and it would save you the trouble.”

Hearing no response, he finally opened his eyes to see you still standing in the same spot, your lips parted.

“Save me the trouble of what?”

You were confused, your eyes narrowed as if you were angry.

“I don’t know…having to deal with me, I guess. I - I’ve never felt the way I feel about you for anyone else and it scares the shit out of me.”

You could hear him swallow hard, his eyes looking everywhere around the room except at you.

“And earlier, when we picked you up,” he continued, “I acted like that because I was jealous, alright? Can’t stand to see some asshole on you like that, and you were dressed all nice and - I don’t know.”

You’d never heard him sound so nervous in all the time you’d known him.

“You are my type of girl,” he finally choked out, “only type of girl I’d ever want.”

All you could do was inhale sharply, his words echoing in your mind.

“It’s alright if you hate me, I can’t say I really blame you. Fuck, I’m sorry.”

He began to walk out, convinced he’d fucked up beyond repair.

“Logan.”

Your voice stopped his hand from turning your doorknob and he turned back to you.

No longer crying, you tentatively stepped forward a bit, nervously playing with the front hem of your top.

“You’re not something to deal with, you know,” you muttered, letting your hair fall in front of your face.

You supposed this was the point where it was your turn to explain.

“I’ve liked you for a long time, Logan, probably since the day I walked in here and I just - I think I wanted someone to distract me so I wouldn’t wallow in self pity because you didn’t want me.”

“You were trying to get over me,” he realized aloud, a small smile on his face to hide the hurt, “I deserved that.”

After a moment of tense silence, he spoke again.

“Did it work?”

His voice was low and soft, a tone you’d rarely heard him speak with.

You pursed your lips and finally lifted your head, taking a deep breath.

“No. I don’t think it was ever going to, either,” you laughed a little, “when that guy asked me to dance, the first thing I thought of was that he didn’t look anything like you.”

Your voice trailed off a little at the end, a little embarrassed to confess that even if Logan had already flat out told you he was interested in you.

Without another word, he came close enough to reach for your hands and gently intertwine your fingers with his. He cleared his throat, nervously chewing his bottom lip before he spoke.

“Can I kiss you?”

You must have had this dream a million times over, waking up night after night and feeling so empty because none of it was real. But now, with his hands in yours, it was very real.

You eagerly pressed your lips to his, not wanting to waste another second. His lips were soft and you were encompassed in the scent of his body wash and cologne, smelling of pine and cedar wood. You brought your hands up to play with his hair at the back of his head. Logan moved his arms to wrap around your waist, pulling you further into him.

When you finally pulled away from each other, you were both smiling like idiots.

“We should’ve done that much sooner,” you giggled.

“Agreed.”

His fingers traced small circles on the exposed skin of your back, making you shiver.

He kissed you again, this time with much more intensity. It wasn’t long before your tongues were in each other's mouths and you both had fumbled yourselves over to the end of your bed.

“Wanted you for so long,” he mumbled between kissing your neck and jaw, his hands still sliding up and down your back, “I was so stupid.”

“We both were,” you giggled a little, cut short into a moan when he licked your neck all the way from your collarbone to under your ear.

“L-Logan,” you gasped, unable to hide your blushing face.

He hummed into your neck, bringing his mouth to your ear, “Can I show you how sorry I am? Let me make it up to you.”

His voice made the hair on the back of your neck stand up and you let him pull you onto him to straddle his lap, lost in the feeling of his hands on you.

“Mmm, uh-huh,” you hummed, mouth hung open as he sucked light marks into your neck.

“You have to use your words, pretty girl,” he brought his head up to rest his forehead against yours. He cupped your jaw tenderly, almost as if you’d disappear if he let go.

Before you could answer, he moved his hands to drag your hips over his, grunting when he felt the pressure.

“Y-yes, yeah - please,” you choked out between moans, tugging his hair harder every time he pushed and pulled your hips.

“Please what, baby?”

“You - you can make it up to me,” you groaned into his neck.

He effortlessly lifted you by your thighs and laid you with your back to the bed. You untucked his white t-shirt from his jeans as he crawled over you, desperate to get your hands underneath it. You lightly scratched your nails along his back, making him groan into your ear. He kissed down your neck to the center of your chest, gently slipping his fingers under the hem of your top and around the back.

“Can I take this off you, baby?”

You were already sitting up before he could finish his sentence, reaching to try and untie the knot at the back of your neck.

“Eager, huh?”, he chuckled, “let me, sweetheart.”

He wrapped his arms around your lower back to tug at the knot, feeling it come loose in his hands. He snaked his hands up to the back of your neck, doing the same to the tied strings there. When it came loose, the only thing holding the piece of fabric to you was his hands at the back of your neck. He let it slip from his fingers, a smirk on his face when it fell completely.

You threw the garment somewhere to the floor and tugged on the collar of his t-shirt, bringing him down with you as laid back again and pressed your lips to his. He pulled back for a moment to yank his shirt off and immediately return his mouth to yours, making his way down to your neck. He brought both his hands to your chest and swept his thumbs over your hard nipples, eventually bringing his lips to them and sucking.

“Ah - Logan,” you whined, making him smile against your skin.

“I like it when you say my name, pretty girl,” he mumbled, dragging his fingers down your sides and hooking them into the waistband of your pants. He kissed all the way down to your hips, moving himself to lay on his stomach with his head between your thighs.

Before he could ask you if it was alright to rid you of them, you were already unbuttoning your pants and pushing them down your hips and thighs. He took them off the rest of the way for you and you kicked your panties off with them.

He hooked his arms around your thighs to pull you closer, licking his lips and resting his cheek on the inside of your thigh.

“I thought about you a lot, you know - like this,” he huffed, his warm breath fanning over your pussy.

You had your hands in his hair already, swiping fallen strands of hair out of his face.

“I thought about you like this, too,” you admitted, sighing as he started to plant kisses right above where you wanted him the most.

“Yeah?”

His teasing voice brought goosebumps to your skin and you nodded, gasping when you finally felt his lips graze your clit.

“This what you think about when you fuck yourself?” He mumbled into you, the vibration of his voice making you tighten your grip in his hair. He growled like an animal, trying to push you even further into his mouth by the grip on your thighs.

You were trying to choke out an answer, distracted by the wet sounds of him messily eating you out.

“Y - ah, yes, yeah - not as good as the real thing, though.”

He laughed with his mouth still attached to you and you tightened your thighs around his head, keeping him in place.

He could have spent hours with his mouth to your cunt, practically fucking you with his tongue while you whined his name.

A knock on your door sounded through the room, the both of you freezing in place.

“Hey, I just wanted to check on you. Are you feeling okay?”

It was Scott.

You grimaced, thankful at the very least that your door was locked, but Logan had a terribly smug smirk on his face.

“Y-yeah, I’m alright, just - just tired,” you managed to choke out, stuttering when you felt two of his fingers slip into you effortlessly.

“You sure?”

You sighed, hating and loving Logan at the same time for what he was doing.

“Yup, th-thank you, m’ jus’ gonna go to bed.”

Scott responded with a goodnight and you groaned in relief when you heard him walk away.

Logan was curling his fingers inside of you, still lapping at your pussy and letting you use your grip on his hair to angle his head however you wanted him. You felt the pressure in your lower stomach rise and you tried to warn him, tugging on the hair on the back of his head.

“Logan, I’m - “

“C’mon, pretty girl, c’mon.”

His encouragement sent you over the edge, euphoria blooming from your lower stomach and spreading through you. You had to cover your mouth to muffle your pornographic moans, but Logan reached up to tug your wrist.

“Uh-uh, wanna hear you, beautiful,” he mumbled into you, practically pushing your thighs even further around his head.

“Fuck, L-Logan, too - too sensitive,” you stuttered out, trying to pull his face away by his hair and failing miserably because of his grip around your thighs.

He eventually reluctantly detached himself and crawled back on top of you, sucking the taste of you off his fingers.

“I could do that for hours, you know, if you let me,” he groaned, pulling your hips up to him so you could feel the weight of his hard cock underneath his jeans.

Still sensitive, you reactively gripped his biceps and dug your fingernails into his skin. You were going to apologize and were quickly cut off by the guttural moan he let out into the side of your neck.

“Fuck,” he groaned, rocking his hips against yours.

“You’re into pain, huh?”

You figured it was your turn to tease him, dragging your fingernails from his shoulders all the way down his back.

“You’re gonna pay for that, pretty girl,” he grunted, moving quickly to undo his belt and strip himself of the rest of his clothing.

When his cock sprung up and hit his stomach as he took off his boxers, you swallowed hard; already feeling a wanting ache in your stomach again. You figured he was big - he was already a tall guy, after all - but he was far bigger than any guy you’d ever seen. Logan noticed the way you bit your lower lip, resting himself on top of you again and bringing his thumb up to pull your lip from under your teeth.

“What, are you nervous? It’s alright sweetheart, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

His voice was so soft and gentle, a tone you rarely ever heard from him.

You could feel the weight of his cock against your inner thigh, heavy and already leaking.

“ ‘m not nervous, I want you, please,” you begged, wrapping your legs around his waist. You reached your hand between your bodies to line him up with your entrance, trying to push him in with your legs around his waist.

“You sure?” he huffed, trying with every muscle in his body to not slam into you in one thrust.

You nodded eagerly, scratching at his lower back.

Logan couldn’t help himself and gave in, slipping himself into you.

“So tight,” he groaned into your neck, pushing himself in even further.

“You - fuck - you’re so fucking big,” you admitted truthfully, nearly drooling at the feeling of him stretching you out.

“Feels good?”

It was hard for him to speak when you were so wet that he was nearly slipping out of you as he gently rocked his hips back and forth, trying to be gentle and let you adjust to his size.

“Mm - uh-uh,” you hummed, gasping each time he pushed further.

“Use your words, sweetheart,” he huffed and you groaned, digging your nails into him.

“Y-yes, yeah - want you all the way in,” you whimpered.

That was all it took for him to be buried in you, grinding his hips into yours so that you were pinned to the mattress.

He worked up to a devastating pace, practically slamming your headboard into the wall.

“S-someone’s gonna - someone’s gonna hear us,” you managed to gasp out, out of breath every time he filled you and pulled back again.

“Don’t care, let ‘em,” he pressed his forehead to yours, bringing a hand up to your face to affectionately cup your cheek. It was so sweet and almost disgustingly hot, the caring gesture contrasting the intense feeling of him repeatedly slamming into the sensitive spot inside of you.

He really didn’t have a care in the world about who heard you both, far too lost in the feeling of finally being able to have you under him like that. You had sweat soaked strands of hair stuck to your face, your eyes squeezed shut, and he was almost sure you’d never looked more beautiful.

“So fucking pretty,” he huffed, his thumb swiping your bottom lip. He had an idea, one he’d considered many times when he thought of you under him like this.

“Bite me.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, threading your hand through his hair, “are you sure?”

“Please.”

You forcibly unsheathed your fangs, letting them tentatively poke at his thumb that was still to your lips.

He moved his hand to your throat, resting it there without tightening his grip.

“Please.”

His pleading had the heat in your lower stomach rising and you obliged, sinking your teeth into his shoulder. You felt guilty - you didn’t enjoy hurting people - until he was whimpering in your ear, moaning your name over and over again.

You bit his neck, his shoulders, his lip - all the small puncture wounds healing themselves within seconds.

Having him so pussy drunk and groaning praises into your ear brought the pressure in your lower stomach to a max and you cried out his name, letting him fuck you through your second orgasm.

“ ‘s good, huh, princess? Come on me, c’mon,” he was begging, feeling your muscles tense around him. That drove him over the edge, his hips rutting into you and his thrusts becoming sloppy. He finally let himself go, filling you and letting it drip from you onto the sheets. He pulled back a little to see the mess you had both made, your inner thighs painted with a mix of his release and yours. He went to pull out completely and you clamped your thighs around his hips again, keeping him still.

“Want me to stay?”

“Mhm - please.”

The sexual tension was replaced with loving comfort, Logan keeping you to his chest as he laid you both on your side. His chin rested on the top of your head and your face was against his chest with your eyes closed. You smiled at the thump of his heartbeat in your ear, nearly letting it put you to sleep.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he mumbled into your hair, planting a kiss on the top of your head, “you know I love you?”

The last three words made your eyes shoot open and you looked up at him, worried you’d misheard him or maybe he was just messing with you.

“Really?”

“Of course. You think I would’ve done that with you if I wasn’t in love?”

You thought hard for a second, realizing he was right. It wasn’t that he hadn’t had hookups before, but it had been quite a long time since he’d bothered to even get to know someone like that. He wasn’t the type to lead you on, either - always up front with you, even if he didn’t have to be.

“I love you too,” you answered, unable to hide the wide smile on your face.

“I should’ve told you much sooner,” he sighed, his eyes fluttering closed as you snuggled into him again.

Before you could both fall asleep from exhaustion, he yanked the comforter over the both of you, hearing you mumble sleepily.

“You can make it up to me some more.”

───────♡──────────────♡───────

A/N: If you made it to the end I love you <3 pls lmk what you think and reblog+like if you enjoyed!! also still navigating how to write smut without using cringe terminology so forgive me if that part sucks

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett fic #logan howlett smut #logan howlett fanfiction #wolverine x reader #wolverine fic #wolverine fanfiction #wolverine smut #wolverine

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suguann · 5 months ago

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✎. he tells you they’re the problem and leaves it at that before sliding a plate of eggs and toast in front of you.

tags. fem!reader, mild dubcon, possessive and obsessive behavior, but he's also kinda sweet?? [18+ only]

You like your new roommate.

Simon’s surprisingly better to have around than the last person who lived with you—a girl you knew from college who had an affinity for stealing your clothes and conveniently never had money for rent. He’s the type to make you soup when you’re sick, acknowledge you if you’re in the same room, water your flowers while he rolls his cigarettes on the fire escape, and carry your groceries up the four flights of stairs to your floor.

He’s attractive, too, in the not-so-conventional sense, but in a disarming way, all small smiles and knowing looks and soft hair you know he doesn’t put much effort into—that sometimes curls around his ears when he lets it get too long—yet it still manages to look better than yours on the best days.

He never tells you what he does for work, and you’re too polite to ask. But you have a feeling he makes enough to afford a place on the less crime-infested side of town—somewhere nicer than your cramped apartment with its outdated appliances, leaky faucets, and the bright neon sign atop the building across the street that shines through your windows all times of the day—but he says he’s not ready to live alone.

Something tells you there’s more to it than him being a lonely bachelor, but again, you don’t pry.

“Does this place have wi-fi?” is all he’d said the first time you meet, in a voice so smooth and only slightly broken up by his accent, clad in a shirt that looked two sizes too small around his arms and clutching a duffle bag in one big hand.

Your brain was this shaken-up box of words and syllables that when you answered him, it came out in a nervous stutter. “Y-yeah, I’ll, er…I’ll give it to you—the password, I mean—once you've moved in. If that’s okay.”

He’d dropped his duffle bag in front of the room that would be his. “Consider me moved in.”

The smile he gave you, crinkling eyes and chuckling lightly, only made the stutter worse.

You let his charm roll off you; you always figured it came naturally to him, a characteristic that comes with being attractive and good.

A handful of months later—of finding a routine around each other and lazy smiles in the morning—something changes the night you go out with a guy Mary from work eagerly sets you up with.

His name’s Robb, he’s a doctor, and you both love cats; he has a house in Spain. Did I mention he's my cousin?

(A dull no way concealed behind your teeth.

If you hadn’t said yes, you feared your entire lunch break would consist of her waxing poetic over a man you're unsure about meeting.)

For a flicker of a moment, there’s an unreadable expression on Simon’s face as he watches you touch up your makeup in the hallway mirror and slip your hand into the crook of your date’s elbow at the door. There’s a slight glint of something uncharacteristically cold behind the mask of indifference before a small smile replaces it.

“Have a nice night,” you throw over your shoulder, except you don’t notice that he never says it back.

You mope around the apartment when Robb—who surprisingly exceeded your expectations of mediocre dates, not that you ever plan on admitting that to Mary—doesn’t reach out to you for three days. Then a week. You’re at that age to understand when people get busy, and a nice night doesn’t always mean it’s mutually reciprocated. But you liked him, and it felt promising after he’d kissed you goodnight against your front door.

It had to have been the kiss that turned him off. Maybe he realized it was too much too soon.

When Simon finds you curled up in a ball under your comforter, one thumb gently wiping away your tears, he doesn’t even bring up your date. Instead, he orders your favorite take-out and puts on a sitcom you’d mentioned to him once—somewhat surprised that he remembers—the dreamy doctor who’d ghosted you blissfully forgotten with greasy food and a warm, comforting chest to rest your head on.

Simon’s there again—sweets in hand and a soft voice to soothe you—when another date (Rin from finance on your floor) a month later is a no-show, and a few weeks after that when Rin tells you without context that he can’t see you anymore.

The third time of let downs feels worse. It’s worse because maybe there’s something wrong with you, and when you ask Simon, he’s too nice to rub salt in your wounds. He tells you they’re the problem and leaves it at that before sliding a plate of eggs and toast in front of you.

You've been Simon's roommate for a year, and he doesn't take it well when you tell him you're looking for a new place.

It’s after he comes home from a three-month work trip. The shadow that crosses over his face should’ve been your first hint that something is wrong.

Had you noticed the signs sooner, you wonder if you’d be less like prey caught by the softness of your underbelly, kept in place by the scruff, and sharp teeth at your neck.

"Beg me. Beg me not to cum in you."

"S-Simon," you whimper wetly, "don't cum in—ah—me."

His fingers hold your chin with an unyielding grip, ensuring your gaze doesn’t stray from his in the cracked mirror. You’re embarrassed by what you see, how spread open you are to his dark, inkwell eyes hungrily watching as you twitch when his other hand slides between your thighs.

"Don’t stop begging, love,” he growls, squeezing you tighter, “or I might forget."

There’s that dark look again, the one that sends a shivery feeling up your spine, possessive almost with how he traces every inch of you as if burning the image of you into his memory, the softness washed away by something more sinister.

A little voice in the back of your head tells you to flee, but another knows he'd find joy in catching you.

No one would ever think your sweet, attractive roommate would be the same man staring at you now—everything you thought you knew about him stripped away to reveal a new canvas, bare for splashes of paint to fill in the cracks—teeth marks imprinted along the curve of your jaw, on the inside of your thighs.

He hides it well. His humble personality doing the trick of being the impenetrable mask for what he’s concealing underneath: a raw obsession, an addict finally getting his hands on his favorite drug, someone who can’t recognize defeat and knows how to take.

“What do they have that I don’t? Hm? Must be a desperate little thing. My pretty slut,” Simon’s voice rumbles low against your ear, shy of unhinged. “They won’t treat you as good as I do. Don’t I treat you good?”

You whimper when his grip grows tighter, but he doesn’t seem to notice—like he’s not fully here with you. No trace of the soft, gentle man who keeps the freezer full of your favorite ice cream, who runs to the store when you run out of tampons and comes back with chocolate and a new pair of fuzzy socks. A few words have turned him into someone you don’t know. Perhaps you never did.

“Answer me.”

An indiscernible squeak is the only sound you make.

He chuckles darkly, his head dipping down to rest his lips against the fluttering pulse in your neck, a finger slipping through the alarming amount of wetness between your thighs where his cock rends you down the middle, and begins rubbing firm, tight circles over your clit, pulling a moan from your throat.

“It’s okay, love,” he mumbles, words barely audible above your heartbeat swimming in your ears. “I’ll be everything for you. Everything you need. I’ll show you why I’m better.”

#ghost x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley imagine #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost smut #ghost imagine #cod smut #cod x reader #cod imagine #mw2 x reader #mw2 smut #.things i write

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kooktrash · 11 months ago

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million dollar darling | jeon jungkook

summary: jeon jungkook is well aware of how privileged he is to have been born into the life he was given. it was glamorous and influential yet close-knit and suffocating, something he thought he wanted to escape from. a trip back home to the circle of wealth and snottiness for his best friend’s million dollar wedding has reminded him of all the reasons why he wanted to leave in the first place… and all the reasons he should stay — the main one being you, the spoiled rich girl he knew was utterly perfect for him.

➣ genre/au: jungkook x model!reader [she/her, female anatomy], old money au, smut, plot [soft on the e2l/f2l tropes]

[loosely inspired by ‘crazy rich asians’ movie/book by kevin kwan]

➣19.7k words

warnings: heavy plot. smut. model oc. jk is a wander but he’s really just a rich guy in disguise. oc and jk got heavy tension but good banter. oc is kinda snotty but not really? namjoon x oc [not y/n]. rich, old money snotty bts. sex on a yacht. teasing. foreplay. oral [f and m receiving]. jk goes to town on oc. cunnilingus. unprotected. missionary. oc on top. jk is tatted up in a polo. heavy makeout. breast play. fingering. dirty talk. oc goes down on jk while he’s on the phone with hobi 😭. jk’s villain arc as he slowly turns back into a cocky rich boy hehe. jk gets sex flashbacks at dolce and gabbana

“Come on, it’s my wedding and I want you as my best man. Do it for your best friend.”

The sky had been clear when he landed, a bright blue cloudless sky that resembled the clarity of the sea he had left behind. The air already seemed stiffer and the bleakness of the airport brought his mood down almost immediately.

The only thing to make him somewhat happy to be home was the sight of the person in front of him, a huge grin on his face as he saw him. The man was dressed casual in a pair of sweats and a hoodie but the small details of his watch matched with the luxury car parked outside brought unwelcome attention to Jungkook when people stared.

“I was worried you bailed last minute,” Namjoon said with a grin as he pulled him into a hug, “It’s good to see you.”

“I wouldn’t,” Jungkook reached into the pocket of his oversized black hoodie and slid his face mask off, taking a cigarette and lighting it once they were outside the airport, “It’s been too long without seeing your beautiful face.”

“Yeah, don’t tell Yeonwoo, but I’d marry you if you weren’t such a man,” Namjoon joked, playfully flirting which Jungkook just laughed off.

“Too bad you’re not my type,” Jungkook patted his shoulder apologetically, “Besides, where is the bride?”

“Getting her hair done for tonight,” Namjoon said as they got into a Bentley Mulssane, “Also, please drive, I’m scared.”

“Hyung,” Jungkook scoffed, taking the keys anyway, “If you hate driving so much why buy an expensive car?”

“Yeonwoo liked the color,” Namjoon said as he got in the passenger’s seat of his own car, “Are you staying with your parents? I could still find you an apartment.”

“For a week? Don’t bother, I’m staying at a hotel,” Jungkook said, turning the engine on and driving out.

Namjoon sighed, “So you really are leaving again?”

“Was there ever a doubt I was?” Jungkook asked in surprise.

“Duh, kid. We miss you, you rarely call, you never visit, you barely respond and we know nothing that goes on with you,” Namjoon said, “I thought once you got your fill of life experiences, you’d come back.”

Jungkook didn’t say anything at that, sniffling uncomfortably as he tried switching the subject, “So, who’s my partner?”

This time Namjoon was the one to freeze up, staring out the window with sunglasses on and his jaw locked. With a shy smile, he asked, “Are you gonna bring a date?”

His brows furrowed as he looked at his friend, “Who’s the Maid of Honor?”

Namjoon released a nervous laugh, “Y/n L/n.”

The silence in the car was loud and from the way Jungkook’s jaw tensed and his eyes narrowed, it was easy to see he wasn’t happy about that. You? You were the Maid of Honor and his partner down the aisle?

“You know, her and Yeonwoo are close and Yeonwoo’s always thinking about who looks the best next to her on camera and obviously she’s gonna choose the runway model but listen,” Namjoon could barely catch a breath, “Y/n’s matured more now and she’s going to be there tonight so please be on your best behavior.”

“Tonight? What’s tonight?” Jungkook’s tone was sharper now and Namjoon huffed in annoyance.

“The rehearsal dinner on the pier, it was all in the catalog I sent you,” Namjoon said, “It’s for press. Our parents want to get it on Forbes and Vogue, they want to make it the Wedding of the Year.”

They both laughed at that and Jungkook sighed, “So there’s gonna be cameras?”

“Yeah but don’t worry they won’t focus on you,” Namjoon said with a smirk, “The attention’s going on me.”

When Jungkook pulled up to the hotel he would be staying at for the week, Namjoon left him to settle in with a promise that he would make it tonight so he had no choice not to. A letter from a close friend was sitting on the coffee table and he set his things down to get it.

It was a big envelope with a card and a few things rattling inside that made him curious. Jungkook turned the envelope down so the contents would fall onto his palm and a roll of condoms slipped out.

‘Welcome home buddy, enjoy the penthouse and may all your frustrations come undone — Jung Hoseok.’

The note itself made him scoff in disbelief. His womanizing friend making jokes before they’ve actually reunited. He left the things on the table and left to shower, doing what he could to make himself look presentable for tonight.

Tonight was the beginning of a soon-to-be hectic week of photoshoots, brunches, parties and finally the wedding. You were one of the ones front and center, never taking the limelight from the bride but carrying your own sense of grace that had people turning heads when you walked into a room—or in this case riverwalk.

You vowed to appear your best tonight and opted for a silk, powder blue Prada dress paired with Swarovski crystals on your neck. You did your part as Maid of Honor, directing all attention to your friend, polite smile and gentle assurance when needed in front of a crowd. Yeonwoo found it comical how well you fit into character when you need to.

“The perfect friend,” Yeonwoo joked as you dabbed smeared lip gloss from her lips, “What would I do without you?”

“Oh, I hope you never have to find out,” You said in a gentle voice that feigned innocence and longing. Yeonwoo laughed as she was called toward other people and you let her go as you found the nearest server holding a glass of champagne. You took a glass, turning toward the railing overlooking the shore, tipping your glass back and chugging as much of the drink as possible.

“So this is where the Maid of Honor will be spending her night?” A familiar deep voice spoke up from behind you and a mischievous smile grew on your face. You set the glass down, straightened your posture and turned to him with a soft gaze.

“Now you know that’s not fair, Joon, I’ve been with Yeonwoo most of the night,” you told him, already motioning for another server to give you a glass, completely ignoring the man standing beside him.

“I believe you, darling, now why don’t you come say hi to the Best Man,” Namjoon pushed Jungkook forward who just glared at him in response, “You remember Jeon Jungkook, right?”

“It’s been two years, not ten,” You said, finally looking at Jungkook with a glimmer of annoyance in your eyes, matched by his stare of unamusement.

“Alright well why don’t you two get reacquainted while I search for the gorgeous love of my life,” Namjoon said, making his escape as quick as possible.

“You counted?” Jungkook asked, taking just one step toward you, trying to stop his eyes from trailing down your figure.

“Of course,” You said sarcastically, “I’ve just missed you so.”

He couldn’t stop the roll of his eyes as he turned to the water, “You knew we were partners?”

“Obviously, I know everything,” you said with a scoff that had his tongue pressing against his cheek, clearly annoyed, “Like how you’re staying at one of the Jung’s hotels instead of home. How you plan on leaving still, where you landed, how long you’ve been her—“

“So you’re stalking me?” Jungkook asked, only half joking.

“Don’t you wish,” you laughed, “You’re all over the news.”

His smile dropped. When he had nothing to say, you grew bored and left him behind, making sure to lightly graze your fingers against his arm as you said, “And just remember, you’re the one who despises me, not the other way around.”

With that, you left without looking back and he was left watching the sway of your hips when you walked away.

Money rules the world, even when people want to say it doesn’t. The people who have it are living the dream and the ones who don’t, want the dream. It doesn’t even have to be the luxurious wonders of the world, it could be as little as financial stability or surviving. At the end of the day, it was a Rich Man’s world and this group of individuals were born lucky.

First, the groom: Kim Namjoon. The man with it all, the money, the family, the education, son of millionaires with three hospitals in their name and a line of pharmacies all across the globe.

The bride: soon-to-be, Kim Yeonwoo. The heiress to half a dozen airlines, an airport funded by her family for decades and a beautiful island in her name off the coast.

Kim Seokjin, practically a prince, generations worth of politicians, the highest education and a trust fund worth millions. He was the one you’ll see with the president or in Australia, golfing with men in charge.

Jung Hoseok, the hotel heir to a chain of ten thousand hotels across the globe. He was the one you’ll most likely catch partying in Venice with a princess whose name he couldn’t actually remember—or maybe giving a waitress the night of her life.

Min Yoongi, eldest son of an elite banking firm formed a hundred years ago. He was private about his life, similar to Jungkook, he only came out when he was summoned by one of the others.

Kim Taehyung was wild as Hoseok but more quiet about it. He’ll soon be heir of the billion dollar empire his family built in the Art world of museums and curations and performing arts.

Now, Jungkook’s story was a bit different from the others. His family worked in land development, most of the country being built on the backs of the Jeon’s who brought cities to rural areas and avoided the public’s eye.

They had the kind of old money that everyone knew, even when they tried to stay out of the news.

It was the kind of old money, people could never stop talking about and you understood what that meant most.

There was a mystery to the fortune of your family, it was old money, so old nobody knew where it came from. Some say oil, some claim aristocrats but it was too far back, and too private for any to know. All the public knew were the generous and loving philanthropists and their perfect daughter, the Nation’s Sweetheart, you.

You really were loved by all, the camera, the press, everyone. They all saw the kind, innocent girl in the public’s eye but only a few saw the snotty, spoiled and downright disrespectful side of you that was real.

Where Jungkook craved independence and isolation from his family name, you soaked in it. The attention. The money. The dependence, you were the complete opposite of him and it drew him insane.

One might ask why he was around you if he really did despise you, but for a long time it wasn’t up to him. The group didn’t all become friends one magical night when you compared your family’s net worth.

No, this bond had grown between galas, private academies, horse riding lessons at the country club and family businesses. It was a very elite, classist society where only the ultra rich could really only trust in each other and keep a country afloat off of it.

Do you think Namjoon would have been allowed to marry Yeonwoo if her parents weren’t as rich as they were?

Do you think Seokjin would have married his wife that he met at Oxford if her family hadn’t been international shipping magnates?

It was like a spider web, they were all connected in some way, all controlled and that’s what Jungkook hated.

He loved his friends, truly, but he hated the control. Not a single one of them had real freedom and every little thing they did came with a price and he couldn’t live that way anymore. He understood his own privilege and how lucky he was to grow up in such a way but he knew there was more to life than just that. When he left home for the first time, he didn’t expect to feel so free. It was like a sense of independence he’s not sure any of his friends have felt and now that he’s back he’s reminded once again of how suffocating it all is.

There had to be at least a hundred guests in attendance tonight and he couldn’t find a moment of silence. The suit he wore felt uncomfortable and he hated the way it seemed to confine him, make him more rigid and stiff.

“Please Jungkook, I was only being funny. Did it bother you that much?” Hoseok asked with a tinge of mischief in his voice.

“No,” Jungkook shrugged as he looked around the banquet hall, “I just found it unnecessary.”

“Really? I would’ve assumed the opposite considering you’ll be spending a lot of time with Y/n this week,” Taehyung said with a shrug as the three of them stood off to the side, talking amongst themselves as the guests of the charity banquet focused on your parents who stood on stage making some speech about the importance of giving.

As if on cue, the spotlight turned toward you where you smiled politely and acted shyly for the cameras.

A scoff left his lips as he pulled his gaze away from you, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Hoseok chuckled, “Oh come on man, everyone knows you have a thing for her—you’re really bad at hiding it.”

With a roll of his eyes, Jungkook stepped away from his friends, “You guys don’t know anything.”

He didn’t have a thing for you.

Sure, you’ve known each other for a long time but that means nothing. He’s known them all for a long time and if anything he's made his distaste toward you pretty evident. When you were younger it was only because you were so spoiled and the attention had to always be on you. He hated watching everyone fall for your sweetness and do whatever you asked of them. He almost fell for it himself a couple times but then he would see the way you judged or looked down on people and he just despised you more.

There’s nothing about you that attracts him aside from your looks…

Tonight you were dressed more modestly in a Chanel sweater and skirt set that looked like you would soon be relaxing at the country club. You wore a black headband with a bow on it and satin gloves, looking as polite as ever while you talked to anyone who approached you.

You were the perfect, doting daughter and anyone with eyes could see that.

“So how mad are you?” Yeonwoo asked once you had settled back in your chair next to her and Namjoon. Even Namjoon seemed to listen in on the question, waiting to hear what you would say.

“What do I have to be mad at?” You asked with a tight smile as you reached toward her to fix a slight smudge on her cheek, “ Jungkook?”

“Well, we know you have some sort of disliking toward each other but…” Yeonwoo bit her lip nervously, “Joonie and Jungkook are really close.”

“We know you two don’t like each other but you should have expected this, right?” Namjoon chuckled nervously, “You’re both our best friends and…”

“Am I saying anything?” You asked.

They shared a look with each other, “I guess not.”

You smiled, “Okay, then let’s just make sure everything runs smoothly this week.”

You did in fact feel a type of way about Jeon Jungkook but you weren’t going to admit that right now surrounded by so many people always lingering around trying to listen. You’ve learned to be very careful about how you act in public and there’s no way your friends will get you to act out by asking about him.

Jungkook was not someone you wished to exhort so much energy on. He wasn’t worth anything to you and despite how many years you’ve known him, you’ve never wished to get to know him. You don’t care where he goes when he’s not home or who he talks to, nor what he does. He doesn’t cross your mind at all through your normal day to day and you surely weren’t going to let him in this week. All he has going for him is his money and his looks.

Ever since you learned he would be the Best Man you thought about what that would mean and accepted that he would be the one to walk with you down the aisle. Despite not being happy about it, you managed to hide your resentment quite well.

You know how he feels about you and over time that’s made you develop a disliking toward him which you find only fair. He might dislike you for being spoiled but you dislike him for being so entitled.

For some reason, he thinks distancing himself from this life means he’s better than everyone else and you hate that. He thinks that by moving away and making his own money suddenly makes him different than the rest of you but that’s not true. He just wants to act like he’s self made so he can feel superior to all of you trust fund babies and that is what annoyed you.

After some time third wheeling, you were getting tired and slightly annoyed watching the couple act lovey dovey. You hated couples, they grossed you out even if they were your best friends.

“Mind if I keep you company? You look like you need it.”

With a furrow in your brows, you turned to face the person who felt the need to whisper in your ear and get close to you without permission. A smile spread across your lips at the man standing directly behind you, his arm draping over your front and hugging you.

“Hello, darling, I’ve missed you,” Jimin’s voice was soft yet sultry and you gave each other kisses on the cheek in greeting as he moved to the empty seat beside you.

“I didn’t realize you were back,” You said to him, “How was Paris?”

He released a sigh, “Oh the usual, shopping… a few events here and there.”

“Mhm, and when’d you get back?” You asked, now intrigued by his presence.

“Just last night. I was planning on visiting you earlier but things came up,” Jimin said, adjusting the Swiss watch on his wrist, admiring the shine, “What has happened since I was gone?”

“Oh God, he’s back,” Hoseok rolled his eyes from across the room, “I ran into him in Marseille the other day and the guy wanted to act like he didn’t know me.”

“He’s been insufferable since Uni,” Taehyung muttered under his breath, “I don’t understand why Y/n puts up with him.”

“Who?” Jungkook asked, only half curious. He hadn’t been paying attention until he heard your name and his reason for hearing it was purely coincidental.

“Park Jimin,” Hoseok clarified, making Jungkook look closer at the man who sat very close to you, making you smile and touch his arms when you spoke.

“Am I supposed to know who that is?” Jungkook seemed indifferent as he looked down at his glass of champagne, trying to resist the urge to look back at you.

“Not at all,” Taehyung said, “He’s just some guy we went to Uni with here. I don’t know how he met Y/n though, probably at some shitty party but he’s nobody that matters.”

Well… Park Jimin was the son of starlets. His great grandmother, his grandmother was an actress, his mother was an actress and he’s been in a few independent films here and there. He spends most of his time sailing on yachts or speaking of the Cannes Film Festival. He’s insanely rich, but he’s still not rich enough despite his accumulated generational wealth.

Unlike Jungkook’s wealth which held actual value especially in real estate, Jimin’s just didn’t compare to his or any of his friends for that matter. So why did you seem captivated by him?

He is aware he shouldn’t think this way, it’s only him reverting back to his old self which was all arrogance and entitlement. He shouldn’t think about how much wealthier he was compared to Jimin.

Unfortunately, Jungkook couldn’t seem to drag his gaze away from the pair as he tipped his champagne glass back, liquid pouring down his throat.

“Do you think she’ll take him to the wedding? I doubt Namjoon or Yeonwoo would ever invite him themselves,” Hoseok said and the three seemed like a group of gossips, the way they huddled around each other.

In Jungkook’s defense, he was barely listening to his friends. He was too busy watching the interaction happening not far from where he stood, eyes narrowed trying to understand what was happening.

First, he didn’t like you. He found you unbearable and you were the epitome of everything he hated about the High Society he had been raised in.

Second, he was only looking because you were next to his best friends. Maybe he wanted to see how in love Namjoon and Yeonwoo were but he couldn’t see because of you and your… friend.

Third, he wanted to know how you managed to stand out in your outfit despite the room being filled with people in extravagant clothes.

“I’m not sure, actually, rumors say she might,” Taehyung said and Jungkook couldn’t help but look over.

“What?”

“We’re just wondering if the Maid of Honor would bring her little boy toy to the wedding,” Hoseok said, looking at Jungkook as his jaw tensed, “What do you think?”

“I don’t care if Y/n brings anyone, we’re just dates for the pictures and ceremony,” Jungkook said with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“So are you going to take a date too then?” Taehyung asked.

“Maybe,” Jungkook said as a server came around holding a tray of champagne glasses and he switched his empty one out for a full one. He didn’t bother to look back at his friends as he began walking away, “I’ll be back.”

“It’s so hard for him to act like he doesn’t care.”

“Kook! Come here, man,” Namjoon said with a wide grin as he saw his best friend walking by them. Jungkook didn’t bother glancing down at you as he greeted his friend.

“Kooky, I haven’t seen you all night,” Yeonwoo stood up to hug him, “Please don’t seduce my future husband, everyone has already RSVP��d.”

“Oh Yeonie,” Jungkook softly caressed her cheek, tipping her chin up to look at him, “If I wanted him, I would have had him by now.”

“Joon!” Yeonwoo whined clinging to Namjoon who just winked at Jungkook, further amplifying his fiancé’s feigned sobs. Jungkook smiled watching her squirm and without him meaning to, he let his gaze fall toward you.

“Y/n.”

You met his intense stare with your own and you could hear Jimin say he was going to get a drink but you didn’t look at him. You looked down at what Jungkook was wearing—a plain black Prada suit, how boring. “Jungkook.”

“Is that who you’re bringing to the wedding?” Jungkook asked, looking back at the infamous Park Jimin who stood with Taehyung and Hoseok, all three of them pretending to enjoy each other’s company.

“Maybe, we do get along very well,” you said with a sly smile as you stood up, not yet reaching Jungkook’s height but he didn’t intimidate you, “Is that a problem?

“No,” Jungkook said, voice low and deep, “I was just curious.”

“And why were you curious?” You asked, a mocking tone in your voice that he didn’t like, “Do tell me, how often are you curious about what I do?”

A scoff left his lips as he looked away from you first, “It was just a question, don’t get ahead of yourself and think you matter to me more than you do.”

An evident pout appeared on your lips and for a second his expression changed with worry but the moment was fleeting. You just laughed [giggled, actually] and with a gentle touch to his arm, said, “No need to lie to yourself.”

His eyes narrowed, anger bubbling up inside him when he heard a shutter of cameras going off, flash in his face and without thinking, he took your hand in his and left.

“If you plan on kidnapping me, it won’t work,” You said teasingly as you left to some dark corner behind large pillars.

“I’m not going to put up with a week of your games,” Jungkook said as he let go of your hand, missing the way your eyes fell to the black ink on his knuckles—something you had never noticed before, not even on the yacht when it was dark out.

“Then stop playing into them,” you said with a laugh, “If I drive you crazy, why bother talking to me at all? I think we’re both very capable of ignoring each other enough to not have to say a single word.”

“What I mean is, you can put on this act of yours for the cameras but don’t drag me into it,” Jungkook told you, ignoring the idea you had thrown out there. He was referring to your strange smiles and touches you give him when in the public.

“I’m not dragging you into anything,” You rolled your eyes, “And you seem to forget all eyes have been on you since you got back—heir to the Jeon Corporation. What do you think people will say when they find out you dragged me out here all alone? The Big, Bad & Rebellious Jeon Jungkook and The Nation’s Sweetheart, me.”

His eyes shut with a hint of anger that he tried to subdue, “Sweetheart?”

“That’s what I said,” you smiled sweetly to prove your point making him scoff.

“You’re not a sweetheart, you’re a spoiled brat,” Jungkook said, looking down at you in your pretty clothes with your pretty jewelry and your pretty face.

“Nice of you to finally notice,” you said bitterly and with a roll of your eyes, you pushed into his shoulder on purpose as you walked past him, “But we’re all the same, aren’t we? Just some of us like to act all high and mighty because you leave home craving independence, ignoring your privilege to seem like better people.”

Jungkook felt the jab of your words but he let you walk past him without a rebuttal.

With a sense of frustration, he ran his fingers through his hair, trying to collect himself to rejoin High Society and finish the night with his head held high.

When Jungkook left his hotel the day of the Bachelor Party, he hadn’t been sure what to expect. Hoseok had done most of the planning for it since he had been abroad and when it comes to Hobi, you never know what to expect. It was almost two days of festivities and it was only toward the end that everyone would separate into their respective groups. That meant that once again he was forced into the same place as you.

The yacht sailed toward the private island the events would be at and as big as it was, he couldn’t escape you. There were the main group of friends that were always together and a few added guests, mostly Yeonwoo’s friends. Hoseok had already been hyping up the party tonight more than anything and everytime Namjoon would grow more worried. He didn’t need a big party thrown by his notorious womanizing friend.

“So what do the girls have planned?” Jungkook asked Namjoon as they sat at a table, looking at everyone aboard. Some people wore little clothing, others casual clothes, you wore something in between. It was casual yet attractive.

“ I don’t know, something probably calmer than what Hobi’s got for us,” Namjoon said but his friend had tuned him out after the first part, “Y/n planned it all and leant us the Yacht for the guests.”

“The yacht?” Jungkook asked, looking around at the luxury super yacht.

“14.7 million dollar yacht for Y/n’s birthday last year,” Namjoon explained to Jungkook, “She wanted a Booze Cruise.”

Jungkook couldn’t help but scoff, “So Y/n got a yacht?”

“It comes in handy, doesn’t it?” A soft voice spoke from behind him and his breath hitched. You looked over to Namjoon, “Yeonie is looking for you.”

“The wife calls,” Namjoon said with a cheesy smile as he left you two behind.

“So, are you ready to go party with Hobi tonight?” You asked with a laugh, “I heard he’s got some former Miss Universe models coming in.”

“Oh, fun,” Jungkook said, slightly sarcastic.

“Kook, you’re not old enough to not like partying with models,” You teased making him look over at you. For a moment he wondered if what you said had a double meaning considering you were a model but he didn’t want to speak up about it.

“I’m sorry, I’m not a party animal,” Jungkook said truthfully, only a hint of joking as he looked around at the packed floor, “I think even this is too much.”

“Wow, how could you be a former Socialite if you don’t like partying?” You asked, “Is it all that time in the jungle or desert you spent alone that changed you?”

Jungkook could hear the sarcasm in your tone but he knew it wasn’t in an offensive way. He had backpacked to a small village in Indonesia for a few weeks before leaving to Nevada or Dubai—and he hated that you knew it all. He enjoyed traveling alone and experiencing things alone; he doesn’t need parties with too loud of music or too many drunks. He’s like Namjoon, they want to celebrate with their small group of friends rather than a party full of strangers who don’t even know what the occasion is.

“It might’ve,” Jungkook said, clearing his throat and checked the time.

You didn’t say much else after that and he got the impression that you grew bored talking to him. He looked at you still waiting to see if you would say something else but instead, you just looked off into the distance, not bothering to hide the sudden boredom you must have felt.

He’s sure he could have found something else to say to you but it was no use when he could see you beginning to slip away when you looked down at your cellphone with a bright smile. You didn’t utter out a goodbye as you left him behind to answer your phone, “Chimmy, I’ve missed you. How’s Morocco?”

“Warm,” Jimin said, “I’ve just finished a shoot and I believe I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Oh I won’t be home, remember?” You said as the final thing Jungkook was able to hear from you before you walked away.

Jungkook couldn’t help but look after you, thinking about who might’ve called you and how things were handled and he had to be honest, he was curious. He wasn’t attracted to you but he found you attractive… He thought you were charming and charismatic but not enough for him to want you, maybe…

The two of you just seem so different. He’s seen as the Black Sheep of the group, not because he’s not wealthy or attractive but because his past decisions have apparently been awful ones.

He was never one for parties so he wasn’t wild and defiant. He did make a declaration to leave all the money behind and pursue his dreams—something rich people were not allowed to do. Especially not if you were next in line to inherit it all like Jungkook was.

You are more free than he is and yet you like being in your bubble. You like the glamor and the responsibilities because unlike him, you know how to play both sides. Do your parents care that you’re out wasted at European raves or sailing on your yacht with a foreign prince? No, why? Because you know how to act like the innocent, perfect princess you’re supposed to be.

Jungkook can’t pretend that well. He can’t hide his tattoos or piercings or signs of nonconformity.

So, yes, he finds you attractive but he can’t let himself fall for you when he thinks you’re too different from each other. It just doesn’t stop his brain from thinking about you though.

“Have you seen Y/n?” Jungkook asked Taehyung who had been sandwiched between two women he couldn’t name.

Taehyung, evidently drunk, shook his head no, “Are you ready to confess your undying love for her?”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, scoffing as he said, “Fuck off.”

All Taehyung did was laugh, making the girls he had his arms around laugh too and Jungkook left feeling annoyed. He was just curious to know where you were, that’s all. Namjoon and Yeonwoo are busy making their rounds, greeting and thanking everyone on the boat and his other friends were off doing their own things. He’s already spent too much time sulking by the railing, staring down at the dark blue water that he can’t take it anymore. He doesn’t want to drink to the point that he’s drunk so really, his last hope is you.

“Have you seen Y/n?” Jungkook asked as he went to the rooftop where Hoseok was sitting in a hot tub full of strangers. Hoseok looked like such an asshole [something Jungkook had permission to say] with his designer sunglasses and Vacheron Constantin watch, just barely above the water surface.

Hoseok barely glanced his way as he said, “I don’t know, check downstairs.”

That was all Jungkook needed to know before he was heading down to find you. It took a while of asking any person he passed by, where you might be and through all this, he couldn’t remember why he was looking for you in the first place.

He had no idea where he was going, he just found himself walking down what felt like endless corridors of rooms, following the directions of whatever housekeeper he could find. The boat really was big, and he couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that this was a simple birthday present.

“Now, who do we have here?” You looked down the empty hallway toward the man in front of you. It pained you to see just how attractive Jeon Jungkook really was.

You have to admit, he really knows how to dress for occasions. The rare times he’s photographed in some news article, he’s dressed casually, clearly trying to hide from the public eye but now that he’s back it seems his fashion has picked up. He wore a striped black flannel Dolce & Gabbana shirt tucked into cream colored slacks, and matching velvet black slippers from their newest collection.

“I’m just… wandering,” Jungkook cleared his throat, whatever excuse he had made up earlier, completely out of mind, “What happened to your dress?”

A large red stain adorned the front of your pink dress from the chest down your torso. You looked down at the stain with a roll of your eyes, “Some stupid bitch worker. She’s off the boat tomorrow.”

Jungkook widened his eyes, feeling you brush past him and down the hall, “So you’re firing someone for spilling a drink?”

“Um, this is Valento? Do you know how hard it is to get rid of a stain like this?” You asked with a slight scoff as you went to the door straight at the end, pushing your key card in to open it, “It took the dry cleaners ages last time.”

“I didn’t take you as an Outfit Repeater to be worrying about things like that,” he stopped at the door, already looking around at what was evidently the master cabin. The water out the windows was a dark, midnight blue and it reflected into the room of silver and gray. It had a walk-in closet, and king sized bed with a view of the open water and a private deck. He didn’t dare go in and put himself in personal quarters with you.

You gasped, stopping your movements of rummaging through your closet to say, “I am an environmentalist.”

He couldn’t tell if you were being serious or not and he had to fight back a grin at how un-woke you sounded considering you were ruining the planet with a private yacht of this size.

You pulled out an off-white dress, a Jaquemus piece, ‘La Robe Artichaut’, “Ugh, after this week, I am firing a lot of people.”

“What happened this time?” Jungkook asked, leaning against the doorframe watching you, waiting for you to kick him out but you just went toward the windows overlooking the dark blue ocean. As much as you claimed to not get along, you talked like old friends.

You reached your hands toward your back, attempting to undo the back of your dress on your own, “I told my assistant not to pack anything close to white and she packs this dress? I swear people can’t do anything right.”

“If people ask just say you’re supposed to match me,” Jungkook said referring to his slacks, “Yeonie won’t be mad her Maid of Honor is wearing off-white.”

“I guess,” you sighed, letting go of your dress and not bothering to look back at him as you said, “Undo the back.”

Jungkook stood silently at the door, staring at you with dark eyes. The fabric of your dress was thin and soft to the touch—he could just tell with the way your figure had so effortlessly shaped the dress. It is a real pity you had to change out of it, he’ll admit that, but now he’s been asked—no, demanded—to help you to take it off.

He has no idea why you think you could just boss him around but this seems to have always been the case. The two of you were never close in the past but the very few times you would run into each other… as much as he hated it, there was always some sort of tension there.

With your back to him, you hadn’t seen the way he silently made his way across the room, shutting the door behind him as he went right to you. You could sense his presence behind you, see his reflection in the dark window and feel his rough fingers brush against your back.

“I meant to tell you, I like your shoes,” You said casually, his fingers beginning to work the knot that tied the ribbon of your dress, “My friend wore them in Paris just a week ago.”

“Friend?” Jungkook raised a brow curiously, his eyes trained slowly on the ribbon he was ever so slowly pulling loose. His gaze shifted to your reflection in the window as he pulled a little rougher than earlier, “Is this the one you’re always running off on the phone with?”

“You mean Park Jimin?” You asked, not bothering to react at all to his roughness or his speed, “Yes, him.”

You could feel Jungkook’s deep exhale as he pulled it as loose as he could while still being appropriate, “Are you seeing him?”

A mischievous smile couldn’t help but make its way to your face as you turned to face him, holding your arms around yourself modestly, “Is that what you wanted to talk about all along? You could have asked me earlier instead of spending who knows how long looking for me.”

He had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself agreeing with you, and with a tense jaw he asked again, “Well, are you?”

“I’m going to get changed,” you motioned toward the door, telling him to leave, “Unless you want to help me with that too.”

A scoff left his lips as he took a step back, annoyed that you wouldn’t just answer his question and annoyed he even cared enough to ask. What did it matter to Jungkook if you took a date? He wasn’t in a relationship with you and he barely considered you a friend.

When he wasn’t here and he was traveling, he was perfectly fine not knowing a thing about you aside from whatever article or magazine you appeared in. Why now that he returns and he sees how… glamorously beautiful you are, is he curious about you?

“And just so we’re clear, no, I’m not seeing Jimin,” You told him as he walked toward the door, stopping midway to listen to you, “Because I know it would make you jealous.”

To be honest, you didn’t think he would actually be jealous, it’s just a joke. Something about you just gets under Jungkook’s skin and it wants you to push his buttons that much more. As obvious as it was that he wasn’t at all amused by your sweetness, it was your arrogant charm that seemed to get him every time.

You knew you were beautiful, you knew you had every right to be arrogant and as much as Jungkook could deny he’s attracted to you at all, it’s very noticeable. You’ve never been told no a day in your life. You’ve never been rejected either and you know Jungkook wouldn’t dare reject you if you actually went for it.

Despite how vocal he is about his distaste toward you, you can’t help but still get giddy in his presence. You just want to rile him up and know that he’s attainable to you. You’ve always had a thing for him, he was an absolute gorgeous man and he was wealthy, extremely wealthy. He was educated and had class but at the same time he was rugged and intimidating. You’ve seen the small glimpses of ink on his knuckles and you just know that under all his long sleeves, he had more to show.

Whether you felt seriously for him or if you just figured it’s a spur of the moment situation, you want him.

“Jealous?” Jungkook attempted to scoff but the word caught in his throat with some truth to it, “Why would I be jealous?”

“I don’t know,” You shrugged, sliding the strap of your down your shoulder, “Because then you would have to share my attention with someone else.”

Jungkook knows he should leave. You had asked him to leave yet you kept going back and forth, and it was stopping him from doing so.

He should go.

He needs to go before he does or say something he’ll regret.

If he caves in to your taunts then he’ll be disappointed in himself, like part of him was allowing his return to his old lifestyle of luxury and privilege.

“Y/n, you always say things you don’t know,” Jungkook asked you with a deep voice that had you smiling, practically feeling him give in. His gaze was dark and there was no hiding the growing tension, “And you must think you’re real cute trying to act out now that we’re alone.”

“No, I know I am,” you said, not backing away from the eye contact. “And you know it too.”

“I don’t,” Jungkook loomed over you, eyes tracing down the curve of your nose and to the slight part in your lips, “I think… I think you’re…”

You blinked up at him, “Well say it, or are you too busy thinking about kissing me?”

An annoyed huff left his lips as one of his hands pulled you toward him at your waist and the other tilted your chin up until his lips were grazing over yours. You reached toward him, making the first real press of your mouths together and there was no use in acting like he hadn’t been in fact thinking about kissing you.

Jungkook let his eyes fall shut as yours did and he pulled you closer into his chest with the hand on your jaw sliding down toward the curve of your neck, making sure you didn’t pull away just yet. You kept up with the pace he had set of slow yet hungry kisses, pulling on your lips or letting his tongue slide against yours tenderly.

“Well?” You gasped feeling his soft lips kiss along your jaw, his soft black hair brushing against your face, a light scent of his shampoo or cologne that left you feeling intoxicated. The hand he had on your waist tightened at your words, pulling away with a quiet grunt, he looked you in the eye.

“Don’t ask me any more questions,” Jungkook groaned, the taste of your lips still on his tongue and there was a light sheen of gloss coating his lips from yours.

It’s shameful for him to admit how easy it was for you to break him down into every other man who seems to fall at your feet when given the chance. This is exactly what he didn’t want and now he’s pulling the godforsaken stained dress he undid and watching it slip down your body, revealing your naked form to his hungry eyes.

Above your bedroom was a deck filled with people celebrating the soon-to-be newlyweds while the Best Man and Maid of Honor are in the master cabin, half undressed, and stumbling onto the bed.

Jungkook was gentle but firm, he wasted no time popping the buttons of his shirt open, exposing the toned muscles of his body and the ink covering most of his arm. Your eyes scanned the markings, surprise and wonder evident on your face with how well he managed to hide how much he’s gotten done since he left.

“Surprised?” Jungkook asked, eyes low when your hands ran over his slacks, pulling at his belt and nails lightly scratching at his abdomen. His voice dripped with arousal when you sat up from beneath him, pressing light butterfly kisses to his abs and tattoos.

“You always surprise me,” You admitted, not as teasing as before but with a hint of playfulness still there. You looked up from his chest, the height of your sitting form and his standing one looked endless as he towered over you. “For instance, I didn’t think it would be this easy to get you in my bed.”

You kissed along his neck now, sitting on your knees to reach him better and nipping at his sensitive spots. His hand tightened around the neck of your head, not pulling your hair but definitely getting your eyes on his, “Why do your words sound so dirty when you say them so… “

Jungkook couldn’t even finish his sentence before succumbing to you once more and kissing your lips. With little force applied, he was laying you back down on the bed with his tattooed and muscular body just melting into yours effortlessly. With one hand on your neck and the other sliding down to the curve of your thigh, it felt like he was all over you.

“Let’s take this off you,” Jungkook murmured between kisses down your neck as he began to finally take off the ruined dress that had been in his way since you got him to undo it in the first place, “You’ve been teasing me with this since earlier.”

“Maybe because I wanted to see you get worked up,” you sighed as you made yourself comfortable on the king side bed, your body slowly unveiled to his hungry eyes. Once he had pulled the dress off you completely and threw it to the side, sitting up between your spread legs and staring.

Jungkook didn’t bother with discreteness as he eyed down your naked body still in shock that he was seeing it before him. Your breasts were on full display and the only piece of fabric hiding you was a thin lace underwear that felt so nimble and soft under his fingertips, so easy for him to just tear off of you. You looked gorgeous laying so pliantly underneath him and he couldn’t help but let his hands slide down from your bent knees to your inner thighs.

“Did it work?” You asked just above a whisper as he hovered over you, leaving needy kisses between your breasts while he tugged at the hem of your panties until he was sliding them down your legs.

“It really fucking worked,” Jungkook groaned as he cupped your boobs in his hands, letting his tongue lick at your pert nipples and feeling the way they stiffened underneath him. Your hands went to his hair, legs nearly wrapping around his torso when you felt his teeth lightly press into your nipple, sucking and tugging when needed.

His kisses began to run down toward your navel with his hands replacing his lips and kneading your breasts in the palm of them while he moved down to lay between your legs, “I want a taste, pretty girl.”

“Then get one,” you said in a whiny tone that had his big rounded eyes turning to look at you with surprise. A knowing smirk falling on his lips as he lifted your knees and pulled your thighs apart as far as they could go until he was eye level with your pretty cunt. Jungkook was never one to stop and tease when he needed sex, he had a tendency to get a little rough and take what he wants but it’s so hard to move it along when he’s met with the sight of you laying so pretty for him. He could tell your patience was running thin with how long he was taking to do anything and just before he felt you close to snapping at him, he leaned into you.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped in surprise with the sudden swipe at your clit by Jungkook’a flattened, long tongue and you’ll admit it caused goosebumps to form on your skin. You couldn’t see the way he smiled as his hands circled around your thighs, repeating his teasing flick of his tongue, feeling the way your folds began to react to him.

He felt your fingers run through his soft hair for anchor and for some reason that slight grip you had on him had his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he let himself get lost in the taste of your pussy. No longer up for any sense of teasing, Jungkook lets his mouth fall open, kissing your wet heat with his tongue pressing between your folds and finding your clit. Your hips were slowly bucking into his face, showing him just how much you liked his tongue and he knew just what to do to have you coming undone underneath him.

He sucked your clit into his mouth, his lips wrapped around the hard bud while his tongue swiped against the tip of it. He began a repetition of that and grazing his teeth ever so softly against your sensitive folds knowing he found your weak spot when he sucked your labia into his mouth and had your soft moans filling the cabin.

“Jungkook,” you moaned softly, fingers tugging at his hair roughly, “Oh god.”

He didn’t dare pull his mouth off you to give you a response and instead let his actions grow rougher. He unwrapped a hand from around your thigh and slipped it down to your pussy where he let his finger begin to draw patterns into your labia, so close to your entrance that he could feel your arousal quite literally leak out of you.

Your body was filled by pleasure that Jungkook was bringing you and you couldn’t help but bring your free hand to your neglected chest, trying to fill the void that Jungkook’s hand had left as you groped your breasts. Jungkook looked up completely enamored with the way you played with yourself while he ate you out and without any second thoughts, he pressed his long middle finger into your waiting cunt.

“That’s it,” he whispered, pressing a light kiss along your pelvis, “Cum for me, darling.”

“Jungkook,” you whined as he pushed a second finger in, hooking them upwardward just past your pubic bone and finding that soft, spongy spot with ease. With the way your walls fluttered around his fingers, he knew you were close and all it took was his lips around your clit while thrusting into that pleasure spot of yours, for you to wrap your legs around his shoulders and shake with release, “Oh my god.”

“Mm,” Jungkook groaned with pleasure, feeling your arousal flood his fingers in your release. He looked down at his wet hand, bringing it to his lips where he licked off the release that threatened to drip down his forearm, “Sweet.”

You looked like a mess trying to catch your breath and come to understand what had just happened between you to think too long about the fact that he was pressing his fingers into your waiting mouth till you licked your own release off him. He lifted a brow as your tongue circled around his fingers while sucking on them with your cheeks hollowed in. It had his breath hitching, trying to pull his fingers back out before he came just from that and began to pull at his own pants.

“Condom?” He asked in an unusually low and raspy tone. You blinked, “It’s fine, I’m on the pill.”

He didn’t press for more as he kicked his slacks and briefs off, hard cock pointed up stiffly. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from it. You wanted to wrap your lips around him and take him deep in your mouth because his dick was surprisingly so fucking pretty you just needed it desperately.

With your mind decided, you attempted to sit up when he pushed you back down, cock in his hand as he gave himself a couple strokes to relieve some tension and pulled your legs apart, “I need you now.”

“Impatient, are we?” You asked with a laugh, making yourself relax when you felt his cock head brush against your exposed clit. Jungkook wasn’t paying attention to what you said as much as he was to the way his mushroom tip fit perfectly between your folds.

A soft gasp left your lips as he pushed it against your clit, playing with your labia and letting the clear liquid that dripped out of his tip, coat your clit.

“Fuck,” Jungkook took a deep breath as his cock nearly slipped inside of you, playing with your earlier release to cover his length in it, “Such a pretty pussy.”

With an annoyed roll of your eyes, you grew tired of his teasing and with a quick hook of your leg around his slim waist, you pushed his cock into you eliciting a deep groan [almost growl] to slip from his lips, “Fucking hell, Y/n.”

“You were taking too long,” you moaned, legs falling back again as you tried to ease the slight pain that came from his thick member entering your tight walls. Jungkook’s hair was brushing against your face as he looked down at the way you took him in, “I was trying to be gentle.”

“Did I ask you to be?” You asked with a scoff. Jungkook rolled his eyes, spreading his legs further apart and digging his knees into the bed for support as he covered you with his body, laying down to plant a quick kiss to your lips. “Brat.”

“Jeon Jungkook,” your manicured nails traced down his back until your hands were under his thighs as if ready to make him move on your own, “Are you going to fuck me yet?”

He couldn’t help but scoff in disbelief, an amused smile on his face and without saying a word, he pulled out until on his tip was past your ring of nerves, and suddenly pushed back in. Your lips fell open in a silent gasp as your eyes locked with his and he smirked.

“You need it that bad?” Jungkook asked as he pulled your legs up, pressing them toward your chest and holding them down with his arms as he kissed your neck, dragging his cock back out, “How bad?”

“Jungkook,” you groaned, trying to move your hips but in this position it was useless, “Start moving.”

“Make me,” he kissed the tip of your nose, slowly sliding himself back in just a little. You rolled your eyes, moving your hand to hide your face as you felt yourself getting annoyed.

Jungkook was smiling like this was all just so amusing to him and with his lip pulled between his teeth, he thrusted in with little restraint, starting a slow yet steady rhythm, “Don’t hide your face, darling. I wanna see the Y/n L/n moaning for me.”

“Fuck you,” you shook your head feeling your pussy tighten around him with your legs pulled to your chest unable to escape his thrusts that were becoming more rough by the second.

“Come on darling, you can do it,” Jungkook groaned, feeling like he was on cloud 9 from the way your pussy took him in. He doesn’t know how to explain it but he felt really fucking good right now. He’s not sure if it’s that he hasn’t had sex in a while, or if it had something to do with the fact that it was you, but he was fucking you with all his energy, letting himself relax and just feel good in the moment.

“Jungkook,” you moaned his name, hand slipping from your face so you could wrap it around his neck, “Kiss me.”

“Kiss?” He asked, out of breath as his rhythm faltered and without thinking, he let go of your legs and let them fall back onto the bed as he tilted your chin up with a hand to kiss you. He set his other hand down on the bed for support, getting lost between your lips and your tight pussy.

Jungkook’s tongue licked against yours swallowing your moans, “Y/n, it’s s’good.”

“Mhm,” you circled your legs around him, “Fuck.”

Jungkook kissed down your neck, hands sneaking down to your waist and with one swift movement, rolled onto his back with you on top. He needed a change of pace because if he kept going, he would cum sooner than he wanted to and he needed you to cum one more time for him so if that meant letting you get in top, he would.

And it had been such a good idea because the sight of you sitting on his cock, leaning back and placing your hands on his thighs instead of chest, made him more excited. Your knees dug into the bed and with your fingers scratching at his muscular thighs and raised your hips, lifting yourself off his cock before plunging him back in.

“Fucking hell,” Jungkook groaned throwing his head back into the pillows, a hand on your hip but not daring to take control, “That’s it darling, fuck yourself on my cock.”

“Jungkook,” the new position was having him reach newer parts inside you that had your thighs shaking, “I’m so close.”

“Take it,” Jungkook growled, holding you in place as he dug his feet into the mattress and began to fuck up into you, “Take my fucking dick, fuck.”

“Oh my god,” you fell forward, hands scratching at his chest, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten, “I—I can’t. Jungkook, baby, oh my—“

“Take it,” he groaned, grabbing your hips harshly and moving once again so he was on top, thrusting into you despite how hard it was getting to pull out of your tight walls, “Take it.”

“I—I,” your lips fell open in a loud cry, pinching his biceps for stability, and felt your walls come undone. For the second time in less than hour, your orgasm hit you hard. Jungkook released a string of grunts, feeling your pussy convulse around him and his cock was greeted with a flood of warmth that had his legs shaking, trying to support him but he couldn’t take it. He barely had time to slip out before he was letting go, his cum dribbling down to your thighs as he let out one final moan of your name.

His body seemed to collapse down next to yours, panting and out of breath, “Fuck.”

The two of you were a mess, sweaty and sore and all you wanted to do was lay down and possibly sleep but where you were did not go past you unnoticed. You searched around for your cellphone, knowing you set it down somewhere before trying to change and found it on your nightstand with six missed calls from the Bride-To-Be.

Jungkook took a deep breath, sitting up and looking down at the mess the two of you made on the bed. He got up, not bothering with covering himself up as he found a towel and tried cleaning himself off with it while you got on your phone.

“Duty calls,” you joked with a sigh as he came to your side and began to wipe down your thighs. Yeonwoo sent you a dozen messages talking about a midlife crisis of some sorts. You sat up carefully, thanking him for handing you your robe and you slipped it on.

“What happened?” Jungkook asked with an awkward clear of his throat as he began putting on his clothes again. He’ll admit he was taking his time getting dressed and you left to the bathroom to freshen up.

“I don’t know, something with the gift boxes for everyone. I think Yeonie’s assistant forgot them,” you told him as you found new underwear to wear, making sure you were cleaned before putting them on. You left the door to the bathroom open to talk to him but you still changed into the white Jacquemus dress from earlier.

You walked up to him and he got the memo about zipping your back up and this time he couldn’t help but lean down to press a kiss to your shoulder blade, “Are you going up yet?”

“I’m gonna touch up my makeup first,” you told him honestly, “You go ahead.”

When Jungkook reached upstairs again, finding the party just as he left it earlier, it’s like nobody noticed he had even left for so long. They were all too focused on your new dress — which Yeonwoo absolutely adored on you. He found a glass of champagne and tried to escape from the swarm of people trying to hold a conversation with him when he wasn’t thinking clearly at all.

Unfortunately for the two of you, the matching off-white shade of your clothing and the sudden mark on his neck wasn’t lost on anyone else. Soon, pictures from every angle possible would paint a story neither of you wanted.

There was a sense of guilt that came with disassociating yourself from your best friend’s wedding plans. Jungkook could barely remember what they had done once they got to the island after a surprising night of visiting your cabin.

He hasn’t had an actual conversation with you since that night and he has to be honest and say, he barely remembers the actual wedding. He hadn’t seen you since the yacht before being dragged away by Hoseok the following day to do some activities for Namjoon’s groomsmen. You had gone to do your Maid of Honor duties and he’s felt out-of-loop since.

The entire day had been packed with things to do and he’s aware he looked dashing in every photo the photographers took of him in his 12,000$ Kiton suit. The matching suits they all wore made the groomsmen look classy and cohesive while the Balmain dresses the bridesmaids wore made them elegant and surreal—well at least for you.

That’s what he thinks is the problem.

His best friends got married and yet all he was able to think about was you. It didn’t help that despite the wedding being on a private island, there was still press everywhere, capturing every angle of this beautiful matrimony between nepo babies.

The reception had been filled with various questions from various interviewers that left all your shared friends staring at you suspiciously—especially when questions of the hickey on his neck came forward.

As awful as it sounded considering the 46 million dollar wedding in the mountains of an island was stunning, he could barely remember half of what hadn’t been photographed. He left the day after the wedding with an excuse that he had things to take care of where he’s currently at and his friends bid him farewell.

He got to the mainland a day before the others and it gave him time to return home before he left on another voyage alone.

“How was the wedding?” His older brother asked, swinging his mallet just slightly, trying to find his nail before shooting the ball through the hoop, “I can't believe I was caught up in meetings all week in Tokyo.”

Jungkook looked oddly bright today compared to how he felt and he didn’t want to say it was because his casual and boring clothes he wore abroad stuck out here in ways he didn’t like. That’s why today—his last day home—he visited his family’s 150 acre estate for a game of Croquet and possibly tennis, wearing a matcha colored Loro Piana cashmere polo with short sleeves.

“Um, it was great,” Jungkook said as he brought his cigarette to his lips and lighting the end before inhaling.

“That’s it?” JungHyun asked with a scoff as he motioned for Jungkook to take his turn and he took his brother’s cigarette, “Did you have an orgy with any models or were you your usual gentleman self that won the crowd against me?”

His older brother had been well known in his younger days for many reasons, his partying, his charm, his youth and education. When he was in his mid twenties, you could always catch him in some article their parents tried taking down in regards to driving under the influence or insulting a server. Unlike Jungkook who preferred a quiet life he could escape to, his brother did not and now he’s some big shot finance guy because his attitude growing up had ruined his chance of inheriting everything from their grandparents. Now it will all go to Jungkook—something they’re all aware of—and maybe that’s why JungHyun makes snide remarks here and there.

He’s not asking about the wedding because he’s curious, he’s bitter that despite his perfect appearance and Jungkook’s more intimidating kind, Jungkook was still the most well-mannered of the two and therefore the favorite—if only he stayed and fulfilled his duties.

“No orgy,” Jungkook said with a hint of disgust as he finished his round of the game, one step closer to winning, “Just Y/n.”

JungHyun had been mid-swing when he mentioned you and his aim went astray making him miss the next ring, “What do you mean just Y/n?”

“I slept with her—“

A loud and annoying laugh cut him off as JungHyun let his mallet go, “Ah, so you can’t remember the events of your best friend’s wedding because you were too busy sleeping with the nation’s sweetheart? Oh I cannot wait till father hears about this, maybe your wedding is next and then you’ll finally step up to the plate.”

Jungkook scoffed, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means now that you’re back, and dating the richest girl in the country, there’s no way Father won’t hand you down the company now,” JungHyun said bitterly, “And everyone said you running away would be a bad thing, but clearly it’s reminded you of who you are.”

“I’m not… I’m not staying,” Jungkook said, “I leave tomorrow but I wanted to see you all. And Y/n and I aren’t going to date, it was a… um.”

“Mistake?” JungHyun asked, “Jungkook, don’t be an idiot. You’ve been obsessed with her for years.”

“I have not.”

“You have, you just don’t want to admit that all your talk about being independent and leaving the money behind to be free was complete bullshit,” JungHyun said with a scoff, “Or why would you mess around with her of all people. A relationship with Y/n is going to put you at the top once again and there’s nothing that won’t be handed to you—and she’s someone mother would approve.”

“You’re dramatic,” Jungkook huffed, “One night doesn’t mean we’re dating or getting married or any of that other shit. I still don’t want to run the business… I just want, I don’t know.”

“Yeah, you never know what you want,” JungHyun said, “But whatever, if you’re set on running away again, so be it. I’m tired of trying to make you see how you blindly follow along with everything you seem to hate.”

“Master, your wife is on line three and she’s wondering who is picking up the kids.”

“Fuck, I don’t know,” JungHyun groaned, annoyed and no longer interested in talking to his little brother, “The driver?”

Jungkook watched his brother leave him behind and with a defeated sigh, he left.

“So are you leaving?” Youngi asked him as he watched the bubbles in his pink champagne, “Or have you changed your mind?”

“I haven’t changed my mind,” Jungkook said stiffly as he fixed the suit jacket he was currently getting fit into, “I’m just postponing my leave but I have a few things to take care of here.”

“Like with you and Y/n?” Youngi asked, making sure the fitting room at Dolce & Gabbana was empty aside from just them two. Jungkook didn’t even flinch at the mention of you. Since the two arrived at this store his vision has been filled with large framed photos of you and your dear friend Park Jimin all over the store. Apparently you were one of the brand’s favorite Ambassadors and they made it known you modeled their products. Right now he’s facing the mirror with a picture of you modeling a satin baldonétte bra and high waisted panties. You looked beautiful and seductive and its been hard for him to not just stare at all your pictures since he got here. Now Yoongi is attempting to bring you up and he refuses to give in to the extent his relationship with you has gone.

You haven’t even spoken since the wedding and even that had just been an exchange of pleasantries and no real depth to either of your words.

“No, with my father,” Jungkook said stiffly as he shrugged off the suit jacket and called in the stylist to find something else. Yoongi sat up in his seat slightly more interested, “Really? About what? Don’t tell me you're back in the running.”

“We're going to discuss it,” Jungkook mumbled to himself.

He wanted to make one thing clear, his decision to seek out his father and work out some sort of plan where he can get back into the job he had been assigned to do, while also having freedom had absolutely nothing to do with you. It has nothing to do with the fact that you’re here, and he’s interested in you, and that it would be his parent’s dream for him to stay and be in a relationship with you and also take over the business finally…

This was his decision because his brother’s right. He can't just keep running away.

“And what do you mean, with Y/n?” Jungkook asked, clearing his throat awkwardly as he glanced up at your five foot photo framed above the mirror, remembering the shape of your body against his, moaning his name and tightening your walls around him.

“Haven’t you heard the rumors?” Youngi asked as he got on his phone, “It seems as though you have competition.”

Jungkook didn’t need to be told more as he took Yoongi’s phone from his outstretched hand and read what was on the screen with furrowed brows.

At the end of the article, in big, fat letters, the conclusion said: ‘Now the question is, will L/n choose the best friend, Park Jimin, or the elegant and influential Best Man, Jeon Jungkook—possibly as the country’s newest IT couple?’

When he gave Yoongi his phone back, there was no denying the sudden irritation that contorted his features. It’s not like he expected this to not happen but… he doesn’t like what they’re implying. Yoongi studied him closely to see if he would get a response, but Jungkook gave nothing away. Instead he just ordered the tailor to pack the two suits he tried on so he could buy both, “I’ll meet you out there.”

Yoongi left Jungkook to get changed and while he stood alone in the fitting room staring up at your boudoir photos framed around him, he took his phone and dialed your number.

“Hello?” Your end of the call sounded hectic, louder and busier than his did. You were in the middle of an interview for Vogue and were taking a short break. It seemed like he called at just the right time since you were getting your makeup touched up.

“Are you busy?” Jungkook asked with a sharp tone that fell on deaf ears when the call went silent for a moment. He really did admire the photo of you, remembering just what it was like to trace his hands along your figure.

“Who is this?” You finally asked, making his jaw clench slightly.

“Jeon Jungkook.”

“Oh you see, I wouldn’t have known that considering you didn’t even say a hello or anything,” You told him in a sarcastic tone that made him want to smile but also roll his eyes, “Besides, I am busy.”

As if on cue, the call of your name in the background made your claim concrete. He bit his lip in thought, wondering what it was you were doing and how long it would take, “When can I see you?”

A smile played on your lips as you held up a finger to your assistant who was trying to hurry you along, “Did you make an appointment with my assistant?”

He couldn’t help but scoff as his gaze turned toward a glare, practically imagining that picture of you smiling at him, “I didn’t know I needed one, darling. When can I schedule one?”

“I’m not sure, i'll let you know,” you said and before Jungkook could respond, the call ended and he was left in shock that you just hung up on him. He gathered his things and met Yoongi outside to pay, completely bewildered by the fact that you just hung up on him so easily. He knows you haven’t spoken since the night of the wedding where you were forced to speak but this is all he gets?

“What took you so long?” Yoongi asked as they left Dolce & Gabbana with new things.

xxx-xxx-xxxx: Appointment scheduled for, 6:30 pm today, L/n Residence @ the Northbrook Estates

Jungkook couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief at the confirmation of an appointed meeting with you tonight.

The night on the yacht had been unexpected yet also long-awaited and now that its done with, neither of you seemed to know what to do about it. You wont lie and say you didn’t enjoy that moment with him but you were also realistic. You and Jungkook would just never work out, you’re too different on the outside and that’s why you’re so confused now as to why he called you.

“So, Y/n, its been a busy season for you this year,” an interviewer said as the camera zoomed in on your expression as they continued, “Not only did you walk thirteen shows but I hear you also celebrated your close friends wedding. How was that? You must have been exhausted.”

“You know it was a lot but it was exciting, I hold my friends dearly and I’m just thankful I was able to make time for such an event,” you said and you’ll admit your response sounded scripted. You didn’t dive too deeply which is what you’re sure the interviewer wanted. You should have known that this stupid interview wouldn’t just be about your newly established modeling career.

Whether you’ve become Model of the Year for your catwalk, or for nepotism, you didn’t are much either way. All you cared about was the fact that the interviewer has found a way to slip in questions they didn’t need to know. It’s like you can just sense the things they’ll ask and have already prepared and calculated the exact responses you need to give.

“Of course, and what a star-studded party,” the interviewer continued, “The Best Man being Jeon Jungkook must have been exciting for you.”

“Well, we’ve all known each other for a long time now so…” You cleared your throat, looking a bit disinterested.

“Yes, of course,” the interviewer said with a nervous laugh, “And pardon me, Y/n, but I just have to ask, did anything happen between the two of you on this very intimate trip?”

Your smile strained but you never looked anything less than sweet as you said, “We are all just very close friends. Most of them have supported me in modeling.”

It was a clear attempt on your part to direct the conversation back to what it was supposed to be about. She ignored your last comment and said, “So… I guess we’re all curious, some pictures from the parties were released of the two of you awfully close in certain open waters, and an evident hickey on his neck—not to mention the matching clothes, please, is there something between you and the heir of Jeon Corporation?”

“Nothing that should concern you, no,” you smiled sweetly and the interviewer seemed to freeze up, unsure if she had gone too far in her questions.

Silence filled the space around them and there was no way to cut these parts out since it was a video shoot and after a while of the interviewer struggling to find which questions to ask, a person who worked for you stepped forward, “How about another short break?”

The interviewer released a shaky breath while the both of you made your way off camera and your glam team was quick to touch up your hair and makeup as the director of the shoot approached you, “Y/n darling, how are we feeling?”

“Annoyed,” you answered honestly, “I thought this was supposed to be about my modeling.”

“You’re absolutely right, darling, we apologize for any mistake we’ve done on our part, I—She must have taken it as an opportunity to ask her own questions and I promise you, we will have a deep conversation about this. We aren’t TMZ…” the director said and you rolled your eyes.

“I’m done filming if she’ll be the one continuing the interview,” You told him as you began to walk away from him, not caring for the excuses or whatever and you can hear your publicist repeat your words to him.

It wasn’t even that she was bad at her job or that she asked anything too deep but she just quickly got on your bad side with her persistence to not let the subject drop.

In the end you got your wish and filming ended smoothly before you were driven away to whatever was next in your schedule, trying not to think about the interview or the fact that there was a chance you would be seeing Jungkook later.

Things are evidently strange between you two and its not like you’ve been blind to the articles or posts about you but you don’t want to address anything. That night on the yacht seems like a fluke and like it shouldn’t have happened at all despite how you felt in the moment. Your parents aren’t the type to be invested in what is put in the tabloids but when their lifelong, country club going, friends call them and ask if there’s anything between you and Jeon Corporation’s Jungkook, they’re going to want answers.

It was just one night, one night where the two of you put aside whatever indifference you had toward each other just so you could release tension and this is the consequence for that. Of course everyone would want to know and of course no one was able to turn a blind eye to you. Even Yeonwoo managed to ask what you had been doing in the cabins withJungkook or so long that night and even when you tried to ignore her she kept pressing you for an answer.

In truth you had nothing to say. You were both adults and it didn’t matter if anyone else was dying to know if there was anything going on between you.

You resented each other.

You had sex.

Plus, he’s going to leave soon and you don’t think that bothers you?

When your driver pulled up to the tall skyscraper you called home, you headed inside alone.

“Good evening, Miss L/n,” the lobbyist held the door open for you, “You have a visitor waiting in the lobby.”

Your brows furrowed, checking the time before heading to the library where sure enough, Jeon Jungkook was sitting by the fireplace reading whatever magazine was set out for him. At the sound of your Miu Miu kitten heels, he turned staring at you with his big rounded eyes being the only thing you could see beside his face mask, “You’re early.”

Jungkook wrapped an arm around your waist as he pressed his lips to your cheek in greeting and you did the same, he joined you in the elevator and said, “I like to get to my appointments early.”

“You’re lucky my shoot ended early or else you might have had to wait outside like a dog,” you teased as you pushed the button for the top floor where your penthouse was located. As part of the infinite amount of wealth your family has, you also dabble in real estate, mostly in the country as luxury apartments but you do have some homes overseas: Paris, New York, Argentina, etc.

The place you call home is a top floor penthouse with terrace and rooftop. The floor in which it was located was completely shut off for just you and included a private gym, yoga studio, three walk-in closets, and on top of that an elevator parking garage with a Mary Kay Pink Rolls Royce sitting pretty inside it.

Jungkook has never stepped foot in your home before and it was overwhelmingly stunning with four bedrooms, two living rooms (one on the top floor and one on the main floor too), an open kitchen, poolside terrace, and five bathrooms. You lived in ultimate modern luxury with traditional themes throughout the home like its hand carved wooden furniture and expensive marble walls.

“Is this different from your little magic treehouse in the woods you ran off to?” You asked, tempted to push his buttons as you removed your coat and handed it to your housekeeper who waited at the door.

“Well, considering my magic treehouse is worth 2.6 million dollars, no I wouldn’t consider this that different from it,” Jungkook couldn’t help but boast, feeling like he’s competing. It’s like when he was in school and the students would brag about whatever exotic trip they got to go in the summer and he would have to make sure to tell them what he did was better. “Maybe I’ll bring you with someday.”

Fuck. Why did he say that? Why is he indulging in any of this in the first place? You and Jungkook should never be together, right?

“Speaking of which, I thought you would have ran off now that the wedding is over,” You said as you mumbled something to the housekeeper making her leave, “Drink?”

“Water is fine,” Jungkook said as he made his way down to your 70’s inspired talking pit of suede Anabei sectional couches, “And I thought I would have been gone by now too”

“What changed?” You skied curiously, “Don’t tell me it's because you would miss me.”

You held your hand to your chest as if to seem touched by the thought and Jungkook just rolled his eyes as you continued, “How would all the other girls feel knowing I’m keeping you here?”

Jungkook scoffed as he practically pushed your legs off his lap, “Can you not joke for just one second?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, even if part of you felt confused wondering if this was supposed to be a serious moment or not. Jungkook huffed, running his fingers through his black hair, “I’m here because I wanted to talk to you about all those articles. My parents are working on taking those down, are you okay?”

Your eyebrows knitted together with confusion, “Me? Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because I’ve never seen anything bad written about you and suddenly you’re being painted as a two-timer by spending a night with me while also… doing whatever it is you do with that friend of yours.” He was not jealous. He swears.

To be clear, there really is nothing going on with you and Jimin. You’re just two friends in the modeling world who happen to like attending secret parties together and maybe making out drunkenly every now and then. That’s it. You’ve never slept with him and Jimin has too many girls on his line for you to ever consider him.

“I’ll survive,” You mumbled as you looked over at him, seeing him in deep thought.

“I’m thinking of staying a while longer,” Jungkook said suddenly with a clear of his throat.

Jungkook was not the shy type and to be honest he’s not even sure why he’s letting you know [as if it made a difference] but the words just slipped out.

He did not like you.

Well, he didn’t like you like that. It sounds harsh he’s well aware of that but he was never romantically attracted to you before so how is he going to suddenly feel that way after only a week in contact again. Maybe it was just unresolved sexual tension after years of feeling that way but that can’t be the only thing that’s making him want to revert back to what his life was like before he left to live on his own.

He escaped all this so that he could live somewhere quietly and do what he really wanted to do without worrying about anything else. Now he’s contemplating moving back and possibly involving himself with his father’s business again. Too much is going on for him to understand why.

“For how long?” you asked as your fingers began to softly run through the ends of his hair making him look at you. You couldn’t hide your curiosity and how close the two of you are.

When he had pulled you down to sit with him, it was with your legs thrown over his lap which he had been caressing every now and then.

An arrogant smirk formed on his lips as he licked them, tapping your calf lightly, “How long do you want me here?”

Fuck, Jungkook is staying to get back in business… not for you.

It’s not for you.

It’s not for yo—

His breath hitched as a sudden weight shifted to his lap, his hands immediately went to your waist, helping you get comfortable on him. It’s embarrassing the way Jungkook didn’t hesitate to reach for you when you sat on his lap feeling your arms thrown around his neck, “Here as in…”

You looked down at the short skirt you wore which rolled up a little from how your legs straddled his thighs and said, “Under me?”

A scoff in disbelief left his lips as he couldn’t help but laugh, sliding your hips closer, “Yeah.”

It was attractive the way your conversations never seemed to fall unless you wanted them to. It was a constant cat and mouse game, banter back and forth and he catches on quickly.

You couldn’t help it, okay. Anytime you would see pictures of Jungkook since he left, he was always in a hoodie and sweats or something that just hid his entire body. Right now he’s wearing this Christian Dior white button-up shirt [which he rolled the sleeves up at some point since he got here] and it was messily untucking from his black slacks and he looks so hot right now. His hair was messy in a sexy way and he looked just like he used to, except this time with tattoos and a different sense of maturity.

Without wasting another moment debating if you should or shouldn’t, you leaned down and kissed him. Jungkook’s lips parted against yours, stretching his neck to kiss you with more need. Unlike the first night you kissed, this one wasn’t as rushed and angry. He took his time longer, pulling your bottom lip between his and doing it over again.

You pressed your chest against his, with your tongue swiping against his lip teasingly until you met his. Jungkook’s hands pinched the satin fabric of your skirt, feeling it tighten and rise, unable to stop the growing desire he was feeling for you. His briefs were getting tighter every time you shifted on his lap and whatever he had been thinking before you started making out.

“You want to play?” He asked, shifting his head to deepen the kiss without bumping noses. You pulled away feeling desperate to catch your breath as his kisses began to travel down toward your exposed neck, licking and nipping under your jaw while beginning to make

“Maybe,” you sighed in pleasure, running your hands through his hair when you felt him kiss down your collarbone, closer and closer down the deep-v in your Miu Miu chiffon top. The strap to your shirt slipped down your shoulder as Jungkook’s rough fingers traced down the side of your arms.

You cupped his face in your hands, forcing him to go back to kiss your lips as you felt his growing erection press into you. It was hard for him to ignore the fact that the only thing covering what was under your skirt was a flimsy, thin piece of lace he shifted you closer until his bulge was tucked between your legs, placing your hips right over where he wanted them to be. Now that he moved you, his outline was more evident and had you grinding along him.

Jungkook released a groan with a sharp breath once he felt that sudden move and he couldn’t help but buck his hips against you, feeling the fabric of his briefs constrict his hardened cock. It was a frustrating feeling yet he felt so eager with his tongue down your throat and his covered dick tucked nicely between your covered folds that he couldn’t even think to stop and remove the layers.

His lips were feeling swollen against yours yet he didn’t want to pull away, the friction he was getting from the way you humped him was turning him on with how needy it felt. You kissed along his jaw, grinding against his aching dick while your nimble fingers began to unbutton his shirt.

“God damn,” Jungkook groaned as he threw his head back, relishing in the way your hips moved expertly against him while kissing down his naked chest. He slid his ass down your back, stopping over your butt and pulling your skirt out of the way for him to get a better feel of you underneath. With firm hands, he turned your sensual grinding into harsher and more deep movements that he met with his hips.

He’s not sure he could take just this any longer. Anytime he’s with you now it’s like he can’t do anything but fall for you and despite how annoying it is, he doesn’t do anything to stop it. Instead, he welcomes it and right now all he wants to do and rip off the remaining layers between you so he could have your legs wrapped around him once more. It’s only been days since the first time and he has not been able to stop thinking about it.

The day of the wedding he had been so distracted by you that he barely remembers any of it and now his best friends are on their honeymoon and he’s here thinking about you again.

Giving up on arguing how much he wants to have you, he wanted to get your clothes off and you were letting him. His hands had barely made it to the end of your top, ready to pull it off, when a loud ringtone cut through the living room, echoing off the walls and hard to ignore. The two of you looked at each other confused.

He sat up, reaching his hand into his pocket and pulling out his phone, annoyed that someone had thought to call him.

“Answer,” you said breathlessly as you looked at the caller, already sliding yourself off his lap.

“It’s just Hobi,” Jungkook said, letting out a huff in annoyance as he set his phone back down, turning to kiss you but it rang once again. Your eyes met his and he begrudgingly grabbed his phone and swiped to answer, “Hello?”

“Hey man, I just got off the phone with your Yoongi,” Hoseok said as he sat in a large closet filled with designer clothes, “And why am I always the last to know if you’re leaving or not?”

“What?” Jungkook looked visibly annoyed with his scrunched brows and tense jaw and for some reason that made him hotter to you. His shirt was undone completely and his belt was halfway pulled off and with his legs spread, it was very hard to ignore his hard on.

Your eyes softened with curiosity and you couldn’t help but bite down on your bottom lip as you decided to just go for it. First, your hand rested on his thigh as he listened to whatever Hoseok said, but slowly you made your way toward his bulge.

“You’re gonna start working with your dad again?” Hoseok asked, unaware of the way Jungkook’s attention had drifted down to the palm of your hand, right over his dick. Your fingers pressed against the underside of his member, massaging your palm into it and feeling the way his hips raised. “What happened to not caring about the money and the company and all that blah blah blah?”

Jungkook couldn’t help but roll his eyes, snapping back to his friend instead of what was going on. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, tightening their grip as if in warning. It was a useless attempt considering he tried helping you pull his belt off and saying, “Come on man, it was never like that.”

He could hear his own tone falter somewhere between lying and having his cock free from the confines of his tight briefs with your hand feeling him.

Hoseok laughed, debating what suit he should wear, “No, it’s exactly like that.”

Jungkook’s hand went to your head, softly caressing you as you kissed down his navel, your hand wet with spit, jerking him off while licking just above his dick. He didn’t bother with a response to his friend as he continued speaking anyway, “Is it true you and our princess are messing around? It’s all over the tabloids.”

Sarcasm was evident in Hoseok’s tone but Jungkook was too focused on your tongue licking up the length of his hard cock, wetting it with spit that made your hand movements smoother.

“Look I get it, you’ve had all this tension something was bound to happen but damn, why didn’t you tell me that either?” Hoseok asked with evident shock, unaware of the blowjob his friend was receiving on the other end. Your lips were wrapped tightly around his length and with your hand too, it was hard for Jungkook to keep his reactions to a minimum.

“Hobi, I—I, yknow I just,” Jungkook cleared his throat uncomfortably to hide an evident groan. He was beginning to fidget under your ministrations, especially when you squeezed under his cock, massaging his balls, “Sorry.”

“Sorry?! That’s all you gotta say after chewing me out for giving you condoms as a joke.” Hoseok was lying in a pile of Louis Vuitton suits on the floor, engrossed in his one-sided conversation, “Our friendship seems one-sided buddy. I thought when you came up to me… I thought, ‘Hey, maybe my good buddy Jungkook will get in this dandy hot tub with me’ but no, you know what you do instead? You ask where Y/n is! God I should’ve known—“

Jungkook threw his head back in a mixture of pleasure and obvious irritation that he couldn’t take it anymore. His finger pressed into the red button and the call was cut to end suddenly. As soon as his phone hit the couch, you pulled off his length with a deep huff for air, “That wasn’t very nice of you.”

“He’ll get over it,” Jungkook mumbled as he reached for your hand to pull you toward him, “Come here.”

“I’m not done,” you leaned away from the kiss he was trying to give you but his hand held your head in place, not caring to kiss the lips that had just been around his hard dick. Jungkook wasn’t as gentle as his need grew heavier and with a strategic pull at your top, it ripped down the back, “Jungkook!”

“What?” He asked with a giddy smile, tempted to be playful, “It was in my way.”

You rolled your eyes, sitting up to take your skirt off yourself and prevent another hazard while Jungkook finished undressing himself. “It was custom, asshole.”

Jungkook’s smile dropped with worry, lips parted in surprise until you burst out into a laugh and fell onto his lap, “You should see the look on your face.”

“Ha ha, don’t scare me like that,” Jungkook chuckled, “I was already thinking about the fortune I would have to pay to fix that.”

“Jungkook,” you ignored the fact that the two of you were naked, in the middle of an intimate moment and asked, “What did you mean earlier?”

“When?” Jungkook asked, caressing your leg, “About staying? Yeah, I’m serious.”

“You are?” You crossed your arms over your bare chest, “Why?”

“Why?” He was visibly taken back, “What do you mean why?”

“I mean… just a few days ago you were adamant on leaving right after the wedding and when you left the resort before everyone else we all kind of figured you had left but you’re here now and…” You took a deep breath in thought.

“Do you want me to leave?” Jungkook asked, sounding more hurt than he intended to. All this time pushing and pulling his feelings for how he felt about being here and seeing you was getting to him. He’s very aware how confusing he is and spending a night with you shouldn’t have changed his mind this quickly while he also refused to admit.

“We didn’t talk about what happened at the party,” you said suddenly, feeling Jungkook drape his shirt over your naked figure as the conversation shifted drastically.

“I know,” he dropped his head, “I’m sorry, I was really confused and I couldn’t tell what I was feeling or how you were feeling and I was mad and… I thought you probably didn’t care.”

“I mean, I didn’t,” you shrugged, “But because I figured it was just a one time thing since you were very obvious with how little you thought of me and now you’re saying you’re staying longer while visiting me at home and it just… I don’t get it.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Jungkook was in his slacks again, trying to fix whatever mess he might have made over time, “I just… I was just being dumb. I wanted to act like I wasn’t into you at all because I was mad at everyone else and it wasn’t fair that I took it out on you but I thought you didn’t like me either.”

“And you’re right, you were mean to me,” you nudged him with your foot, “So really, I shouldn’t even be in this position with you right now.”

Jungkook didn’t dare argue when you called him out, “You always pretended to hate me even when you’d get jealous if someone else talked to me and you could never take your eyes off me.”

His brows furrowed, reminded of the trip and how everyone always joked that he wanted you when he was so stubborn on saying he didn’t. He didn’t like how predictable his life was.

“Because I knew everyone thought you were perfect,” Jungkook tried pulling you toward him, “And they didn’t know how you liked to push my buttons and say things you knew would get to my head and how you were actually so unbelievably perfect that it pissed me off everytime I let you get to me.”

“Don’t sweet talk me now,” you teased when he leaned over to lay between your legs, content with the sight of you in his Dior shirt, “How are you gonna repay me for being such a dick?”

“Whatever you want,” Jungkook admitted, “Say the word and I’ll give you whatever you want.”

“I have everything I want,” you ran your fingers through his hair.

“Come on Y/n, don’t make this hard on me,” he whined playfully, “Everyone else is already making it hard and I just want to spend the night with you. I’ll let you use me.”

Your brow raised and with a soft laugh you pulled him toward you for a kiss, “I get to use the Jeon Jungkook? What will everyone say?”

“That they saw it coming,” Jungkook chuckled as he pressed his lips to yours, “So don’t stop the inevitable.”

You rolled your eyes, feeling your arousal from earlier slowly make its return, “You’re so spoiled.”

“I know.”

Jeon Jungkook now knows what an awful liar he’s been these last couple of years. All of this talk about wanting to be different, break free from his family’s influences and the world of money and power, was meaningless in the end. He tried, he really did but his rebellion of running off and doing whatever he pleased, refusing to acknowledge the company, the wealth and the people in it was short lived because he never actually wanted to escape it.

He was still going to be friends with the people he grew up with and fall back to his old routine of country clubs and parading on yachts or private islands.

He was still going to take over his share of his father’s company and dress himself up in designer Kiton suits that he used to despise wearing.

He was still going to fall for you, the person he despised simply for being an exact reflection of himself. You were perfect for him in every way on paper and that made him want to push you away but in the end, he still fell for you like he knew he would.

Some people dream about having the life he does, or growing up the way he did and yet here he was selfishly wishing it all away. It was perfect, it was so insanely perfect and unfair that Jungkook ever thought he wouldn’t be happy with what he had been handed down to him for simply being born.

“This person gathered valuable experiences in the world and has shown such a strong will to portray it all into commitment for the company and that makes me a proud father,” A deep voice spoke from behind a podium with an echoing mic that had the attention of over a hundred people, “Please, welcome the newest V.P. for Jeon Corporation, my youngest son, Jeon Jungkook.”

Jungkook had an arrogant smile on his lips as he walked onto stage, thanking everyone for congratulating him on his quick and easy advance in the company—even surpassing his older brother.

“Honestly, it is a big thank you to everyone close to me, for helping me see how ready I am to step into this role and fulfill my duty as a member of this corporation,” Jungkook said confidently, looking at all his friends who had a mixture of confused yet knowing smiles on their faces.

“What a brat,” Hoseok joked with Namjoon, “And I blame you for this.”

“Yeah, I’ve never seen someone get pulled back into the country’s good graces so easily,” Namjoon laughed, remembering all the articles about how my ridiculous Jungkook was for publicly stating he would never be a part of the company.

“That’s because he’s spoiled,” Jungkook’s older brother chimed in, “Even after he says he’s gonna walk away from it, he’s still gonna be welcomed back with open arms.”

Taehyung released a playful sigh, “I want to be Jeon Jungkook when I grow up, the perfect life just handed to me and I’m just too blind to appreciate it.”

“Tae, you’re rich,” Yeonwoo whispered to him, Taehyung grinning at her reminder and sitting up straighter.

“How was it?” Jungkook asked his friends as he looked around the table.

“Well rehearsed,” Taehyung gave him the thumbs up, “Also, where’s Y/n? I thought she’d be here.”

Jungkook checked the time on his watch, his leg already bouncing underneath the table, “Yeah, I thought so too.”

It shouldn’t be that big of a deal to him. This was all just some flashy way for his father to make Jungkook’s debut in the business widely anticipated and you had other things to do than be here. The two of you aren’t even officially together yet so it’s not like you owe it to him or anything.

“Y/n,” Jimin whined as he watched the valet open the limo door for you, “Please don’t ditch me. I’m your best friend, imagine how much fun we could be having. Everyone’s going to ask where you ran off to after the dinner.”

“Well you can tell them,” you hurried to finish applying your lip gloss, “That I had more important things to do than get drunk at some fashion party.”

“Right, just throw me to the side like I mean nothing,” Jimin said dramatically, “Is this how you treat friends now?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, knowing he was only trying to cause a scene. Jimin knew you would be calling it an early night but he just wanted it to be difficult. With a small sigh, you double checked that you looked fine in the mirror and said, “Okay, wish me luck, I’m hoping I get laid tonight.”

“I also hope you get laid tonight so that I don’t have to listen to you talk about how much you want to see him,” Jimin said as you made your way out the car, “Goodnight.”

By the time you got to the banquet, the cameras had been long gone from the entrance and so you were able to make your appearance quietly. You would have been here earlier if there hadn’t been an ambassador dinner tonight that you had already agreed to do before Jungkook decided on staying and you just couldn’t miss it.

You felt bad because Jungkook had asked you to come be his date but he understood why you couldn’t make it right away. If anything he should be happy that you hurried over from dinner to the banquet without an outfit change. Despite the number of attendants, it was really a private affair with only a couple people from the press but nothing too grand and over the top. It made arriving late less miserable and finding Jungkook and your friends much easier.

And when you first involved yourself with Jungkook in this way, you should have known it wouldn’t all be easy. You were now somewhat seeing the most eligible bachelor in the country and nobody knows about it aside from speculation. Speculation won’t stop spoiled rich girls who want him to themselves and that’s what you saw when you found him.

“It’s so great to have you back Kooky, it’s like… the best thing to ever happen,” some girl gushed at him from the once empty seat to his left. She seemed unaffected by the stares she received from around the table and didn’t care at all that Jungkook wasn’t even glancing her way. He doesn’t know her, she’s probably just the daughter of some wealthy couple who thinks she has a chance with him.

Jungkook stared forward, watching his friends’ faces as their eyes softened, no longer listening to the girl who said, “Maybe we can get together some time.”

A gentle hand touched his shoulder, soft lips brushing against his ear as you said, “Maybe we can get together some time too.”

There was no denying the smile that grew on his face as he turned to look at you and how close you were to him. Jungkook’s lips parted in pleasant surprise, ready to talk to you when someone else spoke up.

“Excuse us, sweetheart,” Namjoon said to the girl, “It seems our table is full, maybe you can try somewhere else?”

She left with an annoyed scoff, making room for you to sit down, “Sorry I’m late, did any of you miss me?”

You had a sweet smile on your face, a camera clicked somewhere else in the distance surely capturing how close you were to Jungkook specifically, who was tracing his hand along your thigh.

“Dearly,” Jungkook said as he leaned into you for a quick kiss on the lips, “Thanks for coming.”

“I told you I’d try and make it,” you said to him, “I missed the speech didn’t I?”

“It was nothing special,” Jungkook’s hand began to slide down the space between your legs—or at least as far as your dress would let it, “Just the usual talk about how amazing I am, it was all very boring.”

“But I love talking about you,” Your tone was sarcastic yet flirty, your hand falling over his in warning when he began to pull up your dress just a little. You were sitting at a table with a large draped tablecloth that hid your legs underneath but you were still very aware of the fact that your friends were all around the table.

“Y/n,” Hoseok called for you from across the table, “How does it feel to have the Jeon Jungkook wrapped around your finger?”

Jungkook turned to his friend with a harsh glare, knowing he was just poking fun at it all but still managing to get under his skin. You looked at Jungkook with a knowing grin, “Like nothing I didn’t expect.”

He scoffed, squeezing your thigh possessively, “I think the feelings are mutual, darling.”

You leaned into him, not caring for being around so many important people with cameras trying to capture whatever moment they can, “They are.”

::.

a/n omg it took me literally forever to write this and idk how I feel about it but yknow what 😭it’s finished and that’s what matters. I was in the mood for some rich kdrama feel fic and I hope I managed to pull that off at least a litttlleeeeeeere

thanks for everyone that waited patiently and please feel free to lmk what you think <3

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @skzthinker @unnatae @beautywine @lilliankoo @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @whoa-jo @marvelbun @sunnikthv @kochycooky @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @dream-cvtcher @jksjx @kissyfacekoo @joyjunk @caro134340lina @hyunjinswifeee @oldermenluverrr @caro134340lina @olivialeesstuff [taglist is too long so I’ll have to make two versions of it]

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luludeluluramblings · 21 days ago

Note

tbh I’m more intrigued by the idea of college-age Reader getting pregnant while unmarried still living in the manor and NO ONE has any idea who the father is (maybe she does, but she’s withholding that for now or maybe he’s not in the picture?) and it’s the biggest freak out ever. that just seems so fucking wild and potentially hilarious to me. and nobody noticing she’s pregnant until she’s farther along? or them finding out randomly?? imagine:

damian: you look pregnant. what is wrong with you.

reader: i am pregnant though

the batfam: ????????!!!!!!!!!! and then she proposes that now that she’s old enough and starting a new chapter in her life raising a baby and all she should just move out! (cue everyone disliked that meme)

Neglected!Pregnant!Reader x Yandere!Bat Family

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Part Two

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Okay, I think I'm about to become a Pregnancy!Reader writer. Which, I'm not mad about. Kind think it would be fun, but I know the trope isn't for everyone. So, if it’s not your thing, I’m sorry.

A/N: Some of this is based off of things from my own pregnancies.

A/N: Oh, no. Frick, I wanna make this a series now. Check the bottom, cause I have a plot idea for this and I want opinions on it. I spiraled, this was supposed to be a quick blurb. I got carried away. Gonna build up to the yandere shenanigans because I’m turning into a writer with a million WIPs.

A/N: Tagging @skay-ali because I like their The Forgotten Daughter series.

Warnings: Fem!Reader, Very minor Yandere Themes (like barely there), minor NSFW, graphic descriptions of pregnancy and medical procedures, Vomiting.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

You don't really remember that night it happened. But, it only happened once and after you swore you'd never drink again. The hangover after that night had been one of the worst of your short life.

In fact, the sticky feeling between your legs and bitter taste on your tongue had also added to your decision to swear of these college parties. Luckily, you have enough of your memory to remember that you and your partner from that night had both been willing even when wasted. Even if you couldn't remember their name. Or, their face.

It takes you a while to notice. One missed cycle wasn't anything to freak out about, and it was exam season. The stress had probably caused the nausea. It wasn't until you were heading down to breakfast one morning and smelled the burnt eggs in the kitchen that Stephanie had burnt that you realized something might be wrong.

You, of course, ignore it. It was just a fluke. Burnt eggs weren't appetizing to anyone. But, then you nearly faint walking through the perfume section after looking to restock your favorite bottle of scent.

The doctor you finally went to another week later had asked about your cycle and the last time you had been intimate with someone. That's when the reality of things started to set in. You hadn't even thought to do an at home test to check. Your doctor was kind though, saying they could just do a quick urine sample and blood test just to make sure. It might be something else.

The next few minutes felt like ages. But, when the Doctor came back to tell you the positive results you panicked. Not as in panicked as in you broke down, but you threw up a mask. You're good at doing that. You must get it from your father.

When she asks you if this is good news or bad news you can't help, but blurt that it's good. Great even. Which causes her to beam at you. Before you know it, you're being handed a complementary diaper bag with formula and tiny bottles while being given the rundown on your possible due date and future appointments. You nodded you're head along with the information, sliding the paper's into the diaper bag as she hands them to you.

But, then she turns to you with delight and tells you that the Ultra Sound tech has an opening and you're just far along enough they can do your first ultrasound. It'll only be a thirty minute wait.

After nodding along once more, you go back into the waiting room. Holding your new bag with white knuckles and falling into deep thought.

This is happening. But, how? Are you even fit to be a parent? You've hardly ever been loved. How are you going to love someone else? How are you going to do this? What will the family think? What will your few friends think? You don't even remember who their father is. This is impossible. You're not ready. You'll never be ready. That churning feeling is in your stomach again and you feel that single piece of toast you had for breakfast about to come back up.

The thirty minutes fly by with those thoughts in your head. They still swirl in your head as your go back into the ultrasound room.

It's dark, but the tech had few soft lights on in the room. Its actually kind of... cozy.

What's not cozy it the tech telling you that she's going to stick a wand up your bits so you could see the baby. Your eyes screwing shut at the cold invasive feeling.

But, when you open them, she turns the screen for you to see. It's almost amazing how fast the image appears on the screen.

And, their moving. Actually moving. You end up laughing at the sight, causing the screen to flicker and the little blob to move. When the nurse plays the heart beat you can feel yours stuttering in your chest.

Watching them bounce in there with each laugh, it’s easy for the next words to spill out of your mouth.

“Oh, I’m gonna love you.”

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Every step after that feels remarkably less lonely. It’s not just you anymore. You have someone who you’re going to love.

You don’t bother telling the Family. Bruce would just lecture you on being reckless while the other’s would judge you for it.

Honestly, you don’t care if they did. This is your baby.

Funnily enough, for a house full of detectives and highly intelligent vigilantes no one actually notices. Not even Cassandra. It’s a bit insulting how much they don’t pay attention. But, your symptoms soon make it so you don’t care.

The waves of exhaustion, the way everything smells strong and certain things make you want to gag. Heartburn that burns your throat. The subtle cravings that make you cry when you can’t fulfill them. Thankfully you finished your exams because you were too tired to even move from your bed most mornings due to strange nightmares.

Eventually, someone does notice. And, it’s not anyone you would expect.

Of all things you cried over on the pantry floor, it had to be salt and vinegar chips. They hadn’t been what you wanted, but it was too late to go get french fries and a smoothie at this hour in Gotham. And, you stuffed them down your throat with angry tears.

It was Stephanie of all people to find you. You gave her a sharp glare when she seemed to grow wide eyed. Normally you avoid her gaze, but you were quite pissed about having chips in your mouth and not fries. As her eyes grew wider, your nose wrinkled in further annoyance at her.

Just as you’re about to tell her off, she speaks.

“Do you— um, want something else?”

It’s pitiful how fast your snarl turns into a pleading pout.

“Yes, please. I want fries. I want Jokerized fries so badly.” You practically blubber when she gives you a pointed nod towards the car garage.

It takes you a bit to get off the floor despite the fact that your bump is hardly noticeable, but Stephanie noticed the extremely subtle curve.

“How far?” She asks hesitantly, looking from the bump to your face.

You also hesitant for a moment, looking up at her with tears on your cheeks and a serious look in your eyes. “14 Weeks.”

Her eyebrows raise and a wiry pout appears on her face. “Damn. You’re smaller than I was at that time, so not fair.”

The slightly surprised that information gives you almost makes you pause. But, if you had you would’ve probably toppled back down to the pantry floor.

“Explain on the way?” You ask, still a bit nervous. The two of you had never been close since you moved into the manor less than a handful of years back.

“Sure.” She grins, leading the way.

As you both walk, she whispers. “Does Bruce know?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care.”

“Ah.” Stephanie managed to hide the winces from you.

When you two finally make into the car, you’re already feeling better about life. You’re about to have your fries, and possibly a shake too. You didn’t expect to have any company, but surprisingly it’s nice.

Stephanie drives, and get the fries to go. Munching on them as Stephanie drives you back to the manor. Her sharing her own pregnancy experience.

"Wait, so Tim dated you when you were pregnant with another dudes kid? Babe, forget being me being small, you got game."

"Damn right I do." She says smugly, stuffing her own fries in her mouth. "So, um, do you wanna talk about what happened with you?"

And, just like that your mood shifts.

"No."

"Oh- Oh! I'm sorr-" She starts up, and you can tell she's assuming the worst.

"Don't you start, Stephanie." You interrupt with a pointed glare. "I don't want to talk about it because it's none of y'all's business."

That makes her cough on her french fry. "Wait, wait, what do you mean? Don't you want help?"

"Nah, I got it." Comes your stubborn reply, glaring out the window as you dip your fry into the cheesecake milkshake.

"... You should tell Bruce." She suggest after a moment of awkward silence.

"What? So he can ignore his grandchild, too?" Your filter is none existent with your hormones all out of wack.

"He doesn't ignore you-"

"Oh, yes the fuck he does." Your firmly state. Growing a bit heated. "Y'all all figgin do."

Stephanie is about to roll her eyes, chalking your words to you just being unreasonable. But, then the thought starts to creep upon her with each passing building when she realizes this is the first time she's actually hung out with you. Ever.

"I'm sorry." She murmurs to you. The silence falling over you both as the cars continues back to the manor.

"... I'm only forgiving you because you bought my fries..."

"Really?! That's all I had to do?"

"What? I was desperate for this- Wait! Hang on. Stop the car. Stop the car-"

"What? Why?! Are you- OH! Fuck!"

You ended up regurgitating up all the fries you had just eaten. Right into your lap.

"Oooo, that's nasty." Stephanie says, cracking the windows.

"Is it bad that I still want to eat them?" You mumble to her, eyeing the remaining fries.

"Please, please, wait till we get back or I'm gonna hurl, too."

"Fine." Comes your reply. Your eyes drifting shut for a moment. "If you tell anyone I'm gonna tell Cassandra about your crush on her."

"How did you- Frick, you are more like Bruce then I realize." Her voice going from panic to begrudging realization.

"Now, that's offenseive."

"Oh, come on. You're kids gonna have some of Bruce's DNA too."

"Eww. Eww. Don't remind me."

The banter between you both coming back with ease.

When you make it back to the manor, parting ways for the night. You feel at ease. You may have made have finally made a new friend in all this and gained a pillar of support.

As you shower and finish off your fries, you can't help but think about the apartments you had been looking at. Wondering what Stephanie will thinking of your nursery ideas.

Down in the cave, Stephanie slowly walks down the steps. Realizing this might have just gotten complicated.

"You okay, Steph?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Soooooo, what if, and hear me out, wee add some baby daddy drama to this?

A/N: Please note, I write a Reader that DID NOT grow up with the Bat Family, which means we could have some really really juicy drama here. But, we could just keep the options limited to just close friends of the Bat family.

A/N: What do y'all think? Baby Daddy drama? One of the Bat Boys the Daddy? One of the other vigilantes? Should I do a Baby Daddy poll? I just feel like this is an opportunity.

A/N: Also, Stephanie was a teen mom in some comics from my research. Which I think adds to this and gives her a better chance of bonding with Reader until shit goes down.

#yandere batfam #yandere batfamily #batfam x reader #batfamily x reader #platonic batfam #yandere dc #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfamily x reader #anon ask #answered asks #pregnant!reader

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bi-writes · 3 months ago

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I imagine that Johnny's "uncle" instincts are so strong that he would do anything for the MOB and Simon's kids, it doesn't matter that "the kids" are cats. Also i think Simon would have a talk with MOB (and Soap) along the lines "if something happens to me he is the person who would take care of you". ~ i spend to much time daydreaming about this fic

mail-order bride

johnny watches with a careful eye as simon disassembles his rifle. he's methodical about it, very careful. he has a clear desk in front of him, and every piece that comes out has a place on the surface, a special spot that it must go.

"ye called fer me, LT?" johnny asks, knocking on the door gently. simon nods, not looking up from where he's sitting. he motions to the chair in front of the desk, and johnny takes a seat, hooking his thumbs into his tact vest and spreading his legs as he sits there. "what do ye need?"

"'ave somethin' ta say," simon mutters. "'n i'm gonna say it, and y'r gonna keep quiet and not interrupt me. and when i finish, ya aren't gonna say anythin' about it. and we aren't gonna talk about it ever again. say ya understand me, sergeant."

johnny swallows, shuffling in his seat before nodding.

"aye," he says lowly. "roger tha'."

simon sniffs, picking up the barrel and using a microfiber cloth to rub it clean. he leans back in his chair, not meeting johnny's eyes.

"tha' last op got me thinkin'," simon mutters. "thinkin' a lot." he sighs, deep from his chest. "wot would happen to my girls. if somethin' were to happen to me."

johnny purses his lips, his palms getting a little clammy. but he doesn't speak, because he's been ordered not to.

"and if tha' happens," simon continues. "i don't want anyone else lookin' after them except for you, johnny."

their eyes meet finally, and johnny swallows hard. it's a long gaze, and they hold each other there for a few moments to get an understanding of one another, to speak without speaking.

johnny stands, shaking his head. it's hard for him to believe that simon could die. he's unkillable. he's ghost. he's a man too capable of staying alive, too good at crawling out of early graves, that he doesn't understand truly what it is he's seeing in his lieutenant right now.

the thing in his eyes, he's just never seen it before. it's fear.

"simon."

your greeting as he steps through the front door immediately makes his shoulders relax. you're in the living room in nothing but one of his old shirts, standing there with a big smile on your face. his eyes rake down your body, over your bare legs and socked feet. your smile is bright and contagious, and he drops his bag off as you come closer to him. as always, your hands find the hem of his skull mask and slip it up and over your head, and you giggle when he blushes as you look over his face.

"you're so handsome," you whisper, and he clicks his tongue, shaking his head. you lean up on your toes and kiss him warmly, smoothing your hands up his big arms and wrapping them around his neck. simon can't help himself; he slides his hands down your back and slips them up the hem of the shirt you wear, cupping your ass in both gloved hands and squeezing hard. you laugh into the kiss, pulling away slowly, meeting his eyes. he looks tired. he looks...sad. "simon...is everything okay?"

you swipe your thumbs under his eyes, smudging the eye-black there, and he just shrugs. he doesn't lie. it isn't okay, he isn't okay, and you kiss him again to say you're sorry, because you don't know if he would want to hear that.

"i, uhm...ordered a pizza," you say softly. "thought we could watch a really bad movie and eat gross."

simon smirks, leaning his forehead against yours.

"i'd like tha'."

as you're plating up greasy slices of pizza, simon passes a piece of paper to you. it's an index card with a phone number on it and an address. the address is far, really far, and you lick the sauce off your finger before looking up at him.

"what is this?" you ask, taking it from him.

"tha's johnny," simon murmurs. "if anythin' ever happens...if ya ever need me...'n i'm not 'ere--" you open your mouth to say something, but simon shushes you gently. "--if somethin' ever happens to me...you call johnny."

you purse your lips, meeting his eyes for just a second before looking back down at the card.

"nothing's gonna happen to you, simon--"

he cups your face in his hands, shaking his head. he's staring down at you, pleading, asking you to just do this for him, to just say yes, to not fight him on this one thing because he needs this.

you press the index card to your chest gently, nodding finally.

"yeah...okay..." you whisper. "i'll call him, simon. if something happens...i'll call him."

if something happens, if something happens, if something happens--

"simon," you whisper, grabbing his eyes again. he blinks, and you compose yourself when you see that glaze over his eyes, the slight shake of his bottom lip. you have never seen him this way. you have never seen him shake ever before. this was your husband. simon riley, made of nothing but dense rock and steel. but his thoughts are far away. his thoughts are somewhere else, seeing a scenario in his mind that you imagine may not be hard to think about, as if he's lived something like it himself.

the unknown. the despair. the aftermath.

the inevitable.

"simon."

your voice brings him back. he's back in the kitchen. he's back at home. he can hear the cats in the living room, the little bells on their collars ringing as they chase each other in little chaotic circles.

he's back with you. in his little bubble. he's praying to a god he doesn't believe in that it won't burst so easily.

"dont worry, simon. i'll...i promise i'll call."

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty #order up

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cursedcola · 20 days ago

Text

Prompt: Couples will evidently begin to mimic their better half after some time. What traits do you steal from him, and vice versa? Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Characters: Everyone - because I want to and I’m amidst fleshing out all my Yuu/Character dynamics + designs Format: Headcannons. Masterlist: LinkedUP Parts: Heartslabyul | Savanaclaw (Here) | Octavinelle | Scarabia | Pomefiore | Ignihyde | Diasomnia A/N: Putting all my brain rot from my notes into something cohesive. Contrary to my love for ripping your hearts out, I've come with some fluff this time around. BTW you may or may not already do things mentioned - I write my works with a specific Yuu in mind for each character so this is based on them. Just a reminder.

Habits You Steal

Sleep like the Dead (Inherited): Nothing wakes you anymore. Leona is as "selfish" as they come, and has no regard for your schedule. He doesn't feel remorse for soaking up your time in the slightest. Why should he? Other people do it for 90% of the day. Take a load off, the bags under your eyes are unsightly. If he doesn't want to wake up in the morning? You ain't either. It's a done deal. If the building isn't up in flames then don't bother asking. Evidently, prolonged and frequent daytime siestas take their toll on your circadian rhythm. You now need just as - if not more - sleep than Leona. Napping out in public and at the rowdy Savanaclaw Dorm bestowed upon you a disturbance immunity. Ramshackle could be in the middle of a raid and you wouldn't move. Not unless something singed your skin or really did some damage. It's become an actual problem. Crewel is considering a sleep study.

"Oi, herbivore...stop squirming so much. You almost crushed my tail. Hah? Class? You don't need it. Just borrow notes from one of those little friends or make the cat go....fine. Gimmie your homework later. I can teach you a thing or two. That is, if you can handle it." <- Grim can't be trusted on his own? Not Leona's problem. You're half of a student. Half. Not full. Half. There's your loophole now go back to sleep. Yap any more and he'll roll on top of you. Good luck talking with a mouth full of hair.

Perfume (Developed): This comes about in an awkward manner. Beastmen have keen smell. It's a given. Bada bing, bada boom, Leona knows your scent. He could point out the Ramshackle Prefect from a half-mile radius. Now he's never said your scent is unpleasant. Quite the contrary, although the lion would never admit it. The issue here is that your scent acts as a calling card, and Leona is clingy. So you ask Vil for the most popular perfume, potion, cologne - whatever - and start wearing it to mask your scent. At least enough so Leona's de-buffed to a one-fourth mile radius. It doesn't work entirely. No perfume is that strong. It's also an active assault on Leona's nose...but it had to be done. Side note - this was his plan all along. He isn't keen on non-human folk sniffing you out easily. Beastmen, most Mermen, and even select Fae have keen noses. Not that his own scent isn't a deterrent, but some masking perfume is worth the occasional nose-shank if it keeps snickering busybodies off your tail when he isn't around.

"Here. Take this and throw out whatever crap it is you've got on. You want me to say it flat? You reek." <- Take the scent masking balm he's giving and don't shop retail ever again. His nose hairs are literally burning off. The balm costs more than your entire dorm to make, but Leona won't ever admit it. You have an ultimatum. It's either this, or wearing one of his old vests around Savanaclaw. Now unless you want to be twinning with him and Ruggie, do the man a favor and comply.

Hair Ties (Developed): Bless his genetics for that wonderful, silky mane - but he needs to tame it. With how smothering Leona can be, you end up with a mouthful of hair at least twice a day. Man is tall, and he loves using his prefect as a leaning post. Which is cute but he sheds. So your arm is perpetually wrapped with hair-ties 24/7 like a cased sausage, because every time you give him one it disappears. It's on purpose, of course. He also snaps them whenever you aren't paying attention. Spiteful bas-

Biting (Inherited): Biting is a common display of affection in beastfolk culture. Not that Leona ever bothered to tell you this. His little nips (in no small amount) were usually passed off as punishments for being annoying. A lie, naturally. One could say it’s the human equivalent of cute aggression? Yet it has more meaning since it’s reserved for close connections such as family and lover. Although drawing blood or leaving a mark behind is reserved for the latter. You had to learn all this from a textbook, of course. No one in Savanaclaw was going to butt into Leona’s affairs, and Ruggie found your ignorance a funny game to taunt his Housewarden with. You were on your own, on a quest to save your skin. Literally.

Regardless, it’s Leona’s way of affection. Bonus points since he can do it without you knowing why. It’s only natural that you return the favor, playing along whenever he has to hold composure. Acting as if you don’t know and relishing in his micro- reactions. It’s only a matter of time before he figures you out, but it’s so nice to have the upper hand for once.

"That's for showin' up late. Don't like it? Not my problem...yawn if is' so bad, just take my bandanna...Why do you care if it's got Savana colors? Ya spend enough time 'round here, no one's gonna say anything." <- If it really bothered you, he'd stop. King of consent and of reading body language. Otherwise it's a go-go. Also if someone did have a problem with you sporting Savanaclaw colors? He doesn't need to kick their ass. Beastfolk got better hearing than most, and if one of his overhears you getting shit for wearing their dorm's colors then the classic night raven pride will pop out.

Habits He Steals:

Vegetables (Inherited): Leona sticks to meat, cheese, bread, and more meat. Bring on the steak. Bring on the beef. Bring on the deluxe cutlet sandwiches. Savanaclaw's kitchen is the most costly of all the dorms purely for how much Beastmen eat. If Ruggie can guzzle down seven plates in a sitting yet still look like a stick? Imagine a Lion's appetite. No one knows how you managed to get this guy to eat a salad like a true herbivore, but it's a cold day in the Savanaclaw dormitory when Leona's facing down a spinach side-salad on top of his lunch. Meanwhile you're happily munching away at the table, picking random veggies off your own plate to put on his. Each instance accompanied by an agitated twitch of his tale, but the lion's eerily silent. Dire Crowley is right. The Ramshackle Prefect is a Beast Tamer indeed...

"Now I know you didn't just pick at my plate, herbivore. Your luck's running thin...Oi. That's enough. I'll sooner eat one of your limbs than another turnip" <- he, in fact, did eat the turnip. The threat scared his underclassmen so much, that seeing you come around still in one piece the next day earned you a warrior's respect.

Correspondence (Developed): Leona's used to getting a sea of letters from ministers, attendants, and a particular little menace back at the palace. Unless it was an urgent message - he'd let the letters go unchecked after skimming them. Replying always took too much effort, and he'd rather not encourage unexpected visits like during the annual Magiift tournament. That is until you start receiving them as well. Nowhere near the amount Leona deals with - but he'd rather die than have his family telling you things without the ability to intercept. Falena blackmails him into responding to Cheka's letters, or else the little furball is going to use you as a penpal for writing practice. Side Note 2.0 - regardless of Leona's 'cooperative' ways, you still write to the mini lion in 'secret'. He knows but gave up caring.

"Another one? Just toss the damn thing. No - hmph. Give me that. I'll respond, just don't start up the lecture." <- You always manage to find the letters Cheka sends over before Leona can get to them. It clicks that you're a middle-man once they start showing up at Ramshackle instead of his dorm. Leona can't wait too long to respond, otherwise you'll start harping him over how cute the kid's handwriting is or whatever picture he drew. He lets you keep them. Cheka's got his own exhibit on the Ramshackle fridge.

Accommodating (Developed): Leona’s not necessarily a ‘verbal’ communicator, despite his smart mouth that always manages to get the last word. He will not openly lend his aid without a bit of pressing before hand - his pride would never allow it. Take the three days you and Grim stayed in his dorm as an example. Inevitably you earned the right to crash in his room, but there was a roundabout to get there. Mainly for show, since in Savanaclaw things are earned not given. You also weren’t close back then. He wouldn’t go easy on anyone, even if they’re from a different dorm or stranded homeless by some octopunks.

The tides change for you, and only for you. His morals are held high, and his ability to treat a partner well is no exception. There is no glory in being above your supposed equal. Everything is shared. This means Leona’s room is now your room, just as Ramshackle is now partly his. He’s clearing some of his closet out, filling it with your stuff, and doing the same back at your place. Doesn’t even ask and doesn’t give a damn that there are dozens of open rooms. It’s the principle. Sharing a space is letting someone see your most vulnerable being. Not that he’d think you could ever do any significant damage (lies) - but considering he doesn’t want anyone within a five foot radius during his leisure time, Leona giving you open access speaks volumes.

"Hah? So what? It's not like I'm forcin' them into it. Got a problem with how I act? Enlighten me." == Talk about nonchalont. Leona is well aware of the imprint he's left on you. He sees it in the way you talk. The way you think. Not just in the chess matches he makes you sit through over and over. Round after round until you can put him into check. You're confident. You're demanding. You're ripe potential that he got to first before anyone else. You chose him, and no amount of backtalk on your end outshines that you like him enough to mimic his ways. The Ramshackle Prefect’s presence isn't something people can overlook anymore, and Leona is damn proud that he's left a mark.

Habits You Steal:

Extreme Couponing/Haggling (Inherited): If you do not think Ruggie spends his Sunday mornings going through sales ads? You are sorely mistaken. This man is an absolute menace when it comes to hitting the market and squeezing a shop-keep for everything they are worth. Sam fears no creature in all of Twisted Wonderland aside from this particular hyena. Screw fighting blot - grab some popcorn and kick back to observe the game of verbal chess those two engage in every week. It's more entertaining than any battle or show. You will become Ruggie's apprentice. Ain't no partner of his going through life without the ability to haggle. Sam stands no chance.

“Ya get this week’s ad? Good. C’mon over and we’ll get the clippings going. I think I saw somethin’ about a buy-one get-two on those candies ya like. Maybe if your nice enough, I’ll shmooze Sam for a bonus!” <- Ruggie honestly enjoys having a coupon buddy. He makes a show about how you take too long, and that if you don’t wake up early then he won’t stick around! Can’t miss the sale, so he isn’t lying there. Except he does grab what you need on the off chance you do miss the meetup. Side note - he doesn’t just take an apprentice without ulterior motives. This is all in preparation for you to handle the slum markets. If you can’t fight off a few broke students, then you won’t last a day back home.

"Shishishishi" (Inherited): There is no escaping it. For the countless times you've poked fun at his little wheezy laugh - imagine the utter mortification when it came not from him! No no. From you. It's unconscious and in the moment you don't recognize anything wrong. You were only laughing over a won victory against Sam. That new lamp you wanted for your work-desk finally within reach, and 70% off no less! Said conman looks at you with eyes blown wide, because great seven there are two of them now. It takes a moment for self-awareness to hit, but you're too late. Two fuzzy-satellites atop a mop of shaggy blonde curls perk up, and your laugh from before echoes from the original culprit's mouth.

“I heard that! You’re doin’ it wrong. Gotta put more air, Shishishi~” <- Ruggie’s a taunting little turd on a good day. Be prepared. You won’t be living this down. Karma’s a bitch, ain’t it? Next thing is to train ya in the art of sticky fingers - no? Ugh. Fine. Ya Goodie-Goodie.

Hands Up! (Inherited): Ruggie has a very unique way of standing. Hands behind his head, laced together to support his neck. One hip normally supports most of his weight, and he's always in a deep-slouch. Bro doesn’t need to cast ‘Laugh With Me’ for his movements to be mirrored, because you’re already following along without realizing. Leona finds the mimicry unsettling. Take that freaky shit out of his line of sight.

Habits He Steals:

Sharing Food (Developed): This is the inner hyena coming out. Just like in the slums, it's demanded to share amongst your own. He might be a sleaze to other people, but not to you. This also backfires into Ruggie thinking that what's yours is his as well - but that's not the point. He'll plop down next to you at dinner and wordlessly offer up half of his meal. You need more meat on those bones, he'll say if protested. In turn he'll then take half of your dessert. It's a sign of trust, instinctively believing that whatever's on your plate is safe to eat. Yet also shows that he's taken you as one of his - and that's a privilege no one at NRC has. No strings attached because everything you both have is shared. On a side note, you'll never be-rid of Ruggie once this comes to pass.

Shared Wardrobe (Developed): Again with the collective treasure hoard, but with a twist. Ruggie can essentially squeeze into most clothing or modify them to his needs. If it works, then it works. So he'll happily offer up any modified dregs he has for your usage, and in turn he will claim whatever clothes you aren't overly attached to. There is also the matter of scent, of course. Ruggie is the type of person to cut up one of your old pajama shirts and fashion arm-bands, making sure to have one knotted around his bicep at all times. You in turn are welcome to swipe his bandanna at your leisure in place of that tacky uniform tie.

“Hey…you seen my blaz - hah? Uh, nevermind. I’ll go grab somethin’ else. Where’d ya leave the heavier coat Gran sent over. Forget it, I’ll just go check myself” <- The first time you snag one of his oversized blazers or hoodies gets him. It gets him bad. Sharing with Leona was one thing but, c'mon. Warn a guy would ya? You're so lucky he's an opportunist on quick feet, so of course he’ll take the chance to steal something you wear often. Ruggie’s great at brushing off any taunts or quips. Being Leona’s right hand gets him stable back at Savanclaw, but that doesn’t take away years of being the underdog. Whether the other beastfolk stare at him openly brandishing your clothes means little, if anything, he enjoys it. Cause once again the underdog’s got a top prize.

Caffeine Addiction (Inherited): Ruggie spends more time and effort running around than most. His *hobby* is doing part-time work. Those overpriced sugar-loaded drinks never appealed to him because why waste money when powering through is just as effective? Or chugging some ice water? Yet you seemingly always have some sort of caffeine to make it through the hell NRC dishes out, and Ruggie being a mooch is always there to steal at least 1/3 of it. Now he’s trained and gets extremely sluggish around mid-day without a dose. It’s your fault if he falls off his broom during spelldrive practice.

"Wha'cha trying to say with that tone, huh? Think I'm not good enough? 's that it? There're way worse chumps to take after. Way I see it? They're learnin' how to make it in this world, sha ha ah! So thanks!...eh, why're you still here? Shoo already." == Considering rumors never have anything good to say about Ruggie's attitude, he's not dumb enough to take the little 'compliment' as genuine. More like as a backhanded sight towards your relationship. Rugs could care less about what those nobodies have to say. Not like they've got anything he's after, just some busybodies that scurry off with their tail between their legs when things get rough. Even if you catch word of it, Ruggie ain't going to get pissy because they're right. Everything they're saying is right, he is rubbing off on you. He is actively trying to. Life isn't a peach and it's not like he's strong enough to protect you from the hardships. It'll be a big laugh if you pull that righteous crap and try to defend his honor, though. Someone better get it on camera.

Habits You Steal:

Paternal Disappointment (Inherited): There was a time, a simpler time, a Jack-less time...when you were a fool. No. You are one to this day, but it is better tamed under Jack's strict aura of perpetual disappointment. Once on the side of being scolded with Ace and Deuce, you are now the one doing the scolding. You are not fun anymore. There is a stick shoved so far up your ass, and it's now part of your internal organ system. Ace dubs you a traitor, as does Grim. You've gone to the dark side in exchange for the morally sound wolfboy to offer cuddles and the occasional snack. I'm sorry to tell you this dear prefect but you've become....*gasp* the (mom/dad) friend.

“Boring? Who said you were boring?…don’t listen to those jerks. You’ve always had a good head on your shoulders. They’re just upset that they can’t get away with murder anymore - Uh, not t-that I was jealous or anything! Don't get the wrong idea! . Hmph.” <- Jack doesn’t take offense when others call him names, but he doesn’t like when you’re brought into it. At all. Especially because he used to be jealous how you, Ace, Grim and Deuce were more tight-knit than with any of the other first years. Like a pack. That behavior is childish, and Jack hates that he used to think that way. As if your attention was something he had to fight over. It's not like he wanted the same bond you shared with those three either, that's friendship and he wanted more. By being with you, Jack knew that it was going to put him on a different tier than the others. That's just what happens. Part of him feels guilty that you might be losing face because of him. His reputation isn’t bad, but he does have a resting angry face. Reassure him in turn and Jack will be over the moon. Any happier and his wagging tail can become a makeshift duster for the dorm (Were he on earth, he’d definitely get the nickname ‘tails’. After the sonic character, just to clarify)

Meal Prep (Inherited): This is actually an amazing influence and is wonderful for someone on a tight-schedule. You're not going to be eating high-protein meals every night, neither wasting away in an attempt to chug down pre-workout shakes. That's on Jack and Jack alone. Helping him prep meals is a nice touch and a pleasant evening spent together once a week. You don't become strict with it, but Jack does convince you to at least prepare some of your favorite dishes as snacks/emergency meals. He also constantly shoves energy water and vitamins in your bag. No more cup-noodle or scrap sandwiches on those nights you don't reach the mess hall on time. Now you have balanced meals, and get to flaunt matching containers with your boyfriend. Very cute. Everyone hates both of you.

"Uh...are all those stickers really necessary? I know we agreed on matching boxes but this is a bit...No! I'm not embarrassed! Gah, just keep it to a minimum. Nothing that falls off or sparkles." <- He is flustered beyond compare after every track meet. At first he barely bat an eye, thinking nothing of the orange bento box with chibi-cactus stickers and his name written in bold bubble lettering on top. You decorated it just for him, and if it meant you would carry around a spare meal then that's even more incentive. Yet the smell of fresh food attracts jocks after a meet like nothing else, and the teasing was relentless. It isn't enough to stop him from enjoying his meal, though.

Lint Roller (Developed): Leona sheds, but Jack? He is like owning six full-grown huskies. He apologizes profusely for the shedding, especially since the NRC uniforms are black. You run through lint rollers like Deuce runs through eggs. It isn't Jack's fault, but man. Ramshackle collects both dust and fur bunnies these days.

Habits He Steals:

Piggy-Back(Developed):Jack carries you everywhere. He's normally very patient but when there's a place to be? Well, he wants to get there on time. Jack has a strict bedtime at 10:00pm sharp and so his free hours are scarce. Do you want enough time to enjoy the lakeside as planned? If so, hop on his back so no time is wasted. Jack also pressures you to join him for morning and evening jogs. He refuses to give up his diligence, but also is acutely aware that there is little spare time he can afford you during the week. Either you have to keep up with him, or you're getting used as a makeshift weight and being hauled across campus. Relationships need quality time to grow and this is the perfect excuse to hog your attention for two hours every day. Not that he'd admit it, but the swish of his tail while you chat is enough to tell Jack's enjoying his runs much more than before.

"Are you comfortable? Just let me know if I'm going too quick. I'll try not to jostle you around too much...if you're tired then take a nap. I'll wake you when we're back home." <- He'd prefer if you didn't sleep. It messes with your circadian rhythm, but the whole point of this is to help you relax. Just knowing you're with him is enough to make Jack happy. Rain or shine, no excuses. If it's cold he'll let you use his hair to block out the chill, although he'd never let you out in anything less than the proper gear. Even if he joins Deuce or Vil on occasion - you're his favorite running partner.

Safety (Developed): Jack asks you to text him twice a day. Once in-between class, even though you’ll be spending lunch together, and once before bed at 9:30pm. The morning isn’t needed since he’s your alarm clock. He understands that as a prefect, you don’t have a curfew like the majority of students. Yet he is communicative with concerns about you being outside of Ramshackle late after dark. Even when you were just friends, hearing the story of when A-Deuce hauled you to that abandoned mine in the middle of the night? The blot monster and how close it came to you guys not making it? Magic or not, that would worry anyone with common sense. It doesn’t help that Ramshackle has no security beyond its resident ghosts.

"- and you just went with them? Because the headmaster told you to? Are you insane!?...No. You're right. What's done is done. Just...call me if something like that ever happens again." <- Thank the seven Jack's hair is already white.

Jack never thought he’d care this much about anyone. When your partner is a walking heart-attack, in the best way possible mind you, one just wants some piece of mind.

Covering Ears (Inherited): It's a natural response to cover your ears when frightened. Like when watching a scary movie and you don't want to hear what comes next. Jack covers his ears because they're sensitive, and loud noises can cause a migraine quicker than anything else. Especially when they're sudden. His hearing is more sensitive than most, being a wolf beastman. It's almost on par with Leona's. Yet his first instinct when there is a loud noise is to cover your ears instead of his. Even though you're human, the instinct to protect them takes over. It's also his way of being within arm's reach in case of a threat. You must be scared being in a new place. Jack will never let himself forget that. Nor how brave you are for continuing on regardless.

"What a relief...huh? Nah, I didn't say anything. Isn't there a test coming up in Alchemy next week? Want to hit the books together?" == The type to divert the topic as quick as possible, on the chance that he lets too much slip. Needless to say that Jack is relieved to hear that you're mimicking him on an unconscious level. It means that you trust him. That you respect him and see him as an equal. It's the biggest compliment Jack can ever ask for. If people are automatically associating you together, then it means he's done his job. You're part of his pack - and outsiders can recognize it at first glance. He'll do a good job at hiding how happy it made him, but expect that tail to wag at torpedo speed the next time he sees you.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst scenarios #leona kingscholar #jack howl #ruggie bucchi #leona kingscholar x reader #jack howl x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #this...took a lot longer than i intended #it was hard to pick without going too in detail with who i view as 'yuu' for each character

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hydrobunny · 20 days ago

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never took me quite where you do

tags: established relationship, fluff, silliness

a/n: based on king of my heart. (which was also my eras surprise song!!)

--------------------------------------------------------

"you haven't had a girlfriend?" you ask, surprise coloring your voice.

rin itoshi stares at you like you've suddenly got infinitely stupider. "not before you."

"that's," you start, then stop. actually, now that you're really thinking about it, it does make sense. "you know what, yeah. seems about right."

offense glares in his eyes as he leans away from you. "the hell does that mean?"

you raise your brows. "what do you think, rin?"

he fully untangles his limbs from yours at that, shoving himself off of the couch. you protest at his motion - a little halfheartedly, but the effort is there .

standing up to his full height, rin itoshi glares down at you.

you blink up at him, smiling with all the innocence you can muster. "yes?"

"do you know how much fan mail i get?" he grits out. "how many chocolates i've gotten on valentine's?"

it takes quite a lot of effort for you to not start laughing. "i do know how popular you are, yes. you should see the edits on tiktok."

"so why-" rin falters. "edits?"

"go on."

it takes him a second. "i could've had a girlfriend if i wanted to," he says at last. "i just didn't."

you nod, still biting back a smile. "mhm. i'm sure all the girls would've loved you after seeing that personality of yours." you scoot over, offering up the space on the couch again.

rin continues to stare, but you can see his will weakening. "not like anyone wanted to date your lukewarm ass either," he says with a finality.

you snort. "i thought you grew out of that word."

he rolls his eyes.

"also- factually untrue. i've had boyfriends before."

and rin's entire demeanor switches. "what?"

you wave your hand, dismissive. "not like a lot, but. an average amount to have for a high schooler, i think. none of it was ever serious. not like you," you grin.

rin doesn't return it. genuine shock bleeds through his face; he turns on his heel. "i'm going to bed."

"wha- rin?"

forty five minutes later, you breeze into your shared bedroom. your teeth are freshly brushed, your skin lotioned, and you're almost ready for a good night's sleep.

"are you actually still mad about- what the hell are you doing?"

rin freezes, one hand still on the computer mouse. from your vantage point, you can see every pixel on that screen.

"is that my high school boyfriend?"

he turns in the swivel chair, very clearly not in bed. the classic 'itoshi indifference,' as you've coined it, masks itself over his face.

you step closer. "rin. is that, or is that not, the instagram profile of my ex."

he nods, slowly.

"can i ask why you're looking at his profile?"

he begins to shake his head, and then changes his mind (a good choice). but rin itoshi has never been too good at keeping himself calm-

"he's unemployed."

there's a beat of silence.

"sorry?"

"jobless. a leech on society. useless as a human being," rin continues. "a complete ass of himself, basically."

you stare at him. he stares at you. and then-

you burst out laughing. "are you serious?"

rin seems surprised by your reaction. it makes you laugh even harder.

"oh my god- you've been stalking his socials? for the last, like, hour?' you broke your stupid athlete sleep schedule for this?" there are genuine tears welling in the corner of your eyes. "for a guy i dated years ago?"

a little self-conscious now, rin stands up. "i was trying to sleep for the first twenty minutes. after that.." he trails off.

and you slam into him with a hug, still laughing. "i love you so much."

he stiffens at the initial contact, but gives into your touch the moment after. "i love you too?"

you hum into his ear. "they don't matter anymore. you know that, right? they never did- not seriously enough. you're the only one."

rin doesn't reply.

"and i know you could have any girl you wanted. but that doesn't matter to me. because you want me. and i will never get enough of you, rin itoshi."

his voice is a low murmur. "me neither. no one's ever compared to you."

and he presses a kiss onto your lips, and it's better than anything you've ever had.

#hydrobunny #blue lock fluff #blue lock #blue lock x reader #itoshi rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #rin x reader #might possibly be ooc but i tried so insanely hard #big day for reputation lovers

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killerpancakeburger · 1 month ago

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Well-placed Trust

As soldiers unpromptedly walk in on a maskless Ghost and you, your solution to protect his face is to shove it in your chest.

Tags: f!reader (boobs involved), civilian!reader, protective!reader, fluff + smut, Praise, Ghost is a menace (positive), boobs worship, 1k words.

Gaining Simon Riley's trust was not something you ever planned to achieve. However, now that you've had it, you were fiercely protective of it.

This would explain why, when you heard the door to Ghost's room randomly opening, and your eyes flew to the skull mask laying on his desk— barely a meter away but it might as well have been on the other side of the ocean—, your first instinct was to launch yourself at him. Bluntly shoving his face into your chest without warning, in hopes to conceal it from the newly arrived trespassers, and wrapping your arms around his head in a desperate attempt to hide his hair as well.

Nevermind that he's trapped right between your breasts.

You throw a mildly accusatory stare at the entrance, and coarse laughs ring out, followed by a barely believable apology.

“Oops, sorry. Wrong door. Didn’t mean to interrupt!”

You let out a relieved sigh as the door closes. However said relief is quick to vanish as you realize Simon hasn’t reacted at all this whole time. Not a word, not even a grunt; not a move, not even to repel you.

You let go of him like you've been burnt, even raising your hands in surrender.

“Sorry! Are you mad? I panicked, I was just trying to—”

Your waterfall of apologies brutally ceases when, after attempting to back away, you're stopped short by his embrace. You don’t know when he wrapped his arms around your waist. His expression still out of sight, anxiety nags at you, despite the logical part of your mind emphasizing that if he was actually angry, there's no way he'd demonstrate it by hugging you.

So you insists.

“Ghost?”

“Mmh.”

The sound is raspy, unbothered. He idly rubs his face against your torso, and the motion is enough to make your crotch throbs with arousal. Inhaling sharply at the unexpected sensation, you clench your thighs together.

“Simon,” you call again, trying to sound severe this time.

You have absolutely zero reservation in granting all the hugs he might crave, but surely they could be performed in a less… compromising position. Lest you end this cuddle session squirming with want. And a burning face. And the imperative need to never cross the lieutenant ever again, for fear that you'd spontaneously combust with mortification otherwise.

“‘M not mad.“

The gruff, familiar voice appeases your tension a little— the emotional one, that is. Not the physical one.

“You're not? You have a right to b—”

“I trust you.”

Your heart skips a beat at the confession. You suspected it, hoped for it— but hearing it out loud is another matter entirely. Simon Riley is a man of few words, but the ones he does pronounce are always sincere, to the point of bluntness. For him to feel the need to spell it out loud, it has to be important.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You've put my comfort over yours, no questions asked. Couldn’t be more pleased, love.”

The gravel in his voice does funny things to your stomach— why, why, why? It never had that effect before.

You try to ignore the signals sent by your body, instead passing a hand behind your neck in self-consciousness.

“Oh… well. It was nothing. I'd do it again in a heartbeat—”

“You've been so good to me, sweetheart. Don't ya think you deserve a reward?”

Your brain short-circuits. Your skin gets even warmer. Surely you misheard him.

He finally unsticks his face from your chest, resting his chin above your sternum, only to stare with the start of some impatience drowned out in warmth and fondness.

He's a vision, one that takes your breath away and causes heat to pool in your stomach.

Heavy-lidded eyes, disheveled hair, ardent stare, he's a languid, lascivious mess.

“I need an answer. Preferably in one word. Yes, no, fuck off…”

In other, normal circumstances, you would have stayed mute from the shock, or helplessly stuttered, but the imperative desire to not disappoint him, to preserve the contentment he displays, takes over.

“Fuck. Yes.”

The low chuckle that escapes him in reaction to the eagerness of your reply makes you bite back a moan. Your hands close into fists on the back of his shirt.

He lifts your shirt— "hold this for me, love"— and effortlessly frees your chest from your bra. The second your skin is bare, he presses his face back into it, nuzzling against it with a blissful sigh.

With one hand busy grasping your top, and the other clinging onto his shoulder for balance, there's nothing you can do but submit yourself to his ministrations.

It's your turn to sigh in pleasure as he proceeds to kiss an invisible line between the bottom and the top of your breast, fingers stroking the curve between your ribs and your nipple.

“Never dreamed you'd let me get my face on those, love.”

Groggy, it takes a conscious effort on your part to register what he's saying.

“Such a generous thing. It's only right you get payback.”

“You're very… talkative all of a sudden.”

“S'that a problem? Think I'm not putting my tongue to use enough?”

Right after that, said tongue swirl around your nipple and you can feel yourself clench around nothing.

“Or maybe that's just not your thing,” he adds, casually, as if he hadn’t been shamelessly gropping, kissing, licking and sucking your chest.

“I never said that.”

Your reply had been straight off, out of fear that he'd take offense and puts a stop to all this.

“You know what to do to shut me up, anyway.”

You don’t react to his provocative tone, but you’re tempted by the invitation nonetheless— to muffle that smart mouth with your bust…

Just as his focus on your breasts threatens to not suffice you anymore, his thumb insistantly rubbs the apex of your thighs, and you push back against it openly.

“Easy there, sweetheart,” he soothes you, but you can see how pleased he is by your eagerness. “M just gettin’ started.”

Soon enough he disposed of your pants, and he's parting your knees to nuzzle against your inner thigh the way he was against your chest mere moments ago. You can’t help but close them partially, and instantly he's staring you down, eyes brimming with taunt.

“Gonna smother me with your thighs, sweetheart? Like you did with your tits, mh? Better be prepared in case we get ‘interrupted’ again.”

“Fucking hell, Ghost,” you groan, half exasperated, half even more aroused, as he finally steers his head towards your crotch.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost cod #ghost smut #cod fanfic #cod fic #cod smut #cod fluff #ghost x reader #forced to repost 😔#mine #1k

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rafeandonlyrafe · 2 months ago

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southern rivalries

warnings: 18+ only, smut, college au, cheerleader!reader, football player!rafe, college football but i dont know anything so please excuse any wrong details, rivals to lovers, p in v sex, protected sex to unprotected sex lol, sixty nine, male and female receiving oral, male receiving handjob, brief injury but no one is seriously hurt

words: 2.3k

“they're not just a different school.” steffie says, placing her hands down on the table as her tone turns way too serious for the subject. “they're our rivals, our arch nemeses. the war has torn families apart.”

“it's football.” you say plainly. “college. football.”

“i can tell you're new here.” steffies friend tiffy agrees (you've always wondered if they purposely chose their nicknames to rhyme considering they seem attached at the hip). “you just don't get it. football is life here in the south.”

“and north carolina are our rivals. even though we are north carolina.” you are trying to wrap your head around the culture at your new school.

“kind of but also, not at all.” tiffy says while steffie finishes the sentiment for her. “we are nc state. the wolf pack. our rivals are unc tar heels.”

“tar heels is a dumb name.” you snort.

“exactly!” steffie agrees.

the conversation shifts, but it never goes to far from football, too far from the rivalry that seems to extend to everything, from other sports to academics.

“did you cheer in high school?” steffie asks.

“yeah.” you nod. “well, not sideline because it conflicted with volleyball. i did competitive though.”

“you should try out for our sideline team. we need more numbers and…” her voice turns to a whisper like she's sharing a deep, dark secret. “my sister is the team captain. you'll definitely get on the squad if i put in a good word for you.”

-- two months later --

“wolf!” you shout with your fellow cheerleaders, listening to the crowd scream back.

“pack!”

“wolf!” you yell again before dropping your poms, quickly learning that most of the girls never did competitive cheer and aren't the best tumblers, leaving you to be the one flipping across the sidelines to the cheers of fans.

you wave and kick and cheer, just happy to have something to do on friday nights. you feel a little guilty for beating out girls that are a lot more passionate about football and your college, but you try your best to put it past you.

you get back in the line, yelling out cheers and keeping your cheeks stretched wide with a smile, occasionally glancing at the clock to see how much longer until your halftime routine (as well as the score… a little bit.)

the seconds are ticking down and you're about to raise your poms again to shake the red and white colors in the air, when you suddenly feel a presence behind you, but before you can turn, you're hit in the back.

“ahhh!” you scream out and fall forward, the football player falling with you as the ball falls from his hands.

“shit.” he groans and quickly rolls off of you. “are you okay?”

you roll over onto your back, coughing and trying to suck in oxygen after the air was knocked out of your lungs.

you realize quickly that the football player now moved to hover over top of you is not one of your own with his powder blue jersey and white helmet.

“im-” you take another deep suck of breath, but this time not in recovery as you see his face through the face mask, blue eyes looking into yours and the most handsome face you've ever seen.

“im fine.” you manage to say before you're surrounded by a crowd, the wolfpack players pulling the opposing player away and your fellow cheerleaders helping you back up.

steffie pushes strands of hair out of your face, getting you back to proper uniform while tiffy shoves your fallen poms back into your grip.

“ew.” tiffy says, wiping the back of your uniform like the tar heel player left a literal stain on you.

“and our cheerleader is back and up on her feet! let's give it up for her as number 19 rafe cameron re-enters the field after their clash.”

you wave your hand in the air as the crowd claps for you, their attention briefly away from the field, but there's only one thing on your mind. rafe cameron.

-- two hours later --

“what are you doing?” steffie yells, snatching your phone from your hand and making you quickly regret agreeing to be her and tiffies third roommate.

“don't you know fraternization is not allowed with tar heels?”

“im not doing anything!” you grab your phone back out of her hand, still opened up to his instagram page. “simply looking at the guy who hit me, okay? i was just curious.”

“mhm.” steffie gives you a glaring look that clearly says she doesn't believe you.

you sigh softly and close out of the account, not that there's many posts to look at anyways, and only a few not on the football field with his helmet off and structured face in full view.

“let's go out.” you say quickly.

“after we lost the game?” steffie shakes her head.

“alright, whatever.” you get up to get dressed in something cute, not willing to let the football teams loss hold you back from living your life, and admittedly you need a breath of fresh air away from cheer or football or your dorm mates.

you're at a club you've never been to before, not one of the ones that plasters wolfpack pride posters to all of their walls and plays the red and white anthem like it's a kesha song.

you show the bouncer your id and step into the music filled room, quickly ordering yourself a drink when you hear loud whooping from a different section.

you look over and find a group of men that you quickly realize despite the clubs colorful lighting are wearing that recognizable baby blue.

“of course.” you groan, just happening to stumble into the same bar as the unc players while you're trying to not think about football or even college despite all your classes being easy entry level.

you're about to pay your tab and leave when a deep, familiar voice speaks from jarringly close.

“another drink of whatever the lady is having.”

“i- no, no.” you shake your head, only briefly glancing at him. rafe. “im fine.”

“you're that cheerleader, aren't you?” he leans his elbow against the table, and the bartender makes you a drink and places it down in front of you despite your attempted disapproval.

“yeah.” you nod. “not that… into all of this i guess.” you shrug, hand waving at the logo on his shirt. “i didn't know y'all came here to celebrate.”

“ah.” he nods. “and your name?”

you realize quickly that you know far too much about him when all he knows is that he accidentally hit you, and that you cheer for his rival team.

“y/n.” you reply, taking a sip of your drink, actually tasting it this time instead of quickly gulping it down like you did the first time.

“im rafe.” he reaches his hand out and you shake it, wondering if the invisible blue stain is somehow going to be picked up on by steffie and tiffy when you eventually make it back to your dorm.

“i never got to properly apologize. i did look for you after the game. i guess it was fate that brought you here tonight.” rafe squeezes your hand, and you quickly realize it's still held in his grip. “im sorry.”

“im not supposed to-” you quickly take your hand out of his grasp. “im not supposed to be talking to you. sorry.”

“ah.” he says again. “that pesty no fraternization rule. im not supposed to be talking to you either.”

there's a pause, a mutual understanding and acknowledgement of the tension brewing between the two of you.

“but that's not going to stop me from asking you back to my hotel room.”

the words barely leave his lips before your mouth is on his.

it's a mess of hands, furiously grabbing and tugging at clothes until you're both down to just your undergarments.

“shit.” you laugh, noticing that even rafes underwear is carolina blue.

“team issued.” he clarifies quickly as he pulls you down with him as he falls back onto the bed. your lips press against his as you straddle his hips.

you press your crotch down over his, feeling the way he's already pressing up against your panties.

“god, let me get my mouth on you.” you groan, sinking down to lick and kiss at the grooves of his chest and abs, trying to commit the taste of his skin to memory, not sure if you'll ever have this chance again.

you reach his blue boxers and press your lips against the clear outline of his hard cock, wetting the fabric with your spit before you're sick of the barrier and lean back only to pull the underwear down his thighs.

“fuck.” rafe moans out when your mouth is immediately back on his cock, this time able to put his length into your mouth as you bob your head up and down, quickly setting a rhythm as you try to coax your throat to allow him deeper.

“y/n.” rafe tugs on your hair, and you groan when you're forced to pull away.

“what?” you snap.

“get your ass up here.”

you move quickly, shucking off your panties and moving so your pussy is hovering over rafes face. he looks up at you for a brief second, just to take a breath and stare into your glistening cunt, before his hands are pulling your hips down and your clit onto his awaiting mouth.

you take his cock in your hand, pressing open mouth kisses and licks all over, not sure how well you can blow him when your moans are loud and filling the hotel room.

rafe mumbles something that you can't might make out, but it may be “delicious.” as his mouth devours your pussy, tongue swiping through your folds obsequiously, paying attention to every moan of yours and what causes your pussy to clench.

“fuck.” you groan, hand moving to take over for your mouth as your jaw drops open, stroking up and down his length that makes your cunt squeeze again thinking about having inside you.

rafe pushes your hips away, and before you can argue or control your body, he uses his strong football muscles to flip you into your back and rest your head against the hotel rooms fluffy pillows.

“i need you.” rafe says, reaching towards his wallet on the nightstand and pulling out a condom, tearing it before sinking the rubber over his length.

“fuck yes.” you moan out. who knew exactly what you needed to feel better was to hookup with the player on the opposing team, the rule breaking only making things even more exciting.

rafe grabs your leg and pulls it over his hip before lining up with your entrance. he sinks forward slowly, eyes on your face in case you show any sign of pain.

“you're so fucking warm.” rafe moans out, dropping to kiss you sloppily as his hips press all the way forward, cock buried inside of you.

he gives you both a minute to adjust before hes hovering over you, strong arms holding himself up as he pounds into you.

“fuck!” you squeal out, one hand gripping the bed sheets while the other reaches up to the headboard, trying to find some stability while he wrecks your pussy.

you hope rafe won't last too long because you can already feel your high building despite not wanting it to be over anytime soon.

one time certainly won't be enough to satisfy you, especially not as you look up at rafes face, still gorgeous and chiseled even as his jaw is slackened as he fucks you with pure pleasure and bliss in his eyes.

“you-” you gasp out. “you feel amazing. so good.”

“damn right i do.” rafe smiles a cocky grin down at you as he somehow manages to speed up even more. “filling you perfectly. this pussy is mine.”

you try (and fail) to not let the words go to your head.

you even briefly think of what your fellow cheerleaders would think if they knew what you were doing right now, how tiffy and steffie would react if they knew just how much that unseen blue has been smeared across your naked body, how much of it is dripping from your cunt.

“im-im not far.” rafe warns, ignoring the cramp in his throwing arm to warn you.

“ffff-” you hold back the urge to curse again as your mind spins. “condom off, please. i need you to cum in me.”

rafe certainly isn't going to argue, even though it might not be the smartest idea. he kneels between your legs, one hand coming to massage your clit while the other pulls the condom off.

rafe strokes himself once before pushing back inside of you, keeping one hand on your clit as your pleasure grows, hips seeming to raise higher and higher off the bed the closer your high gets.

“cumming.” rafe manages to say seconds before he bursts, warm spurts of cum filling your insides, thankfully not being wasted being trapped inside rubber.

the warm filled sensation causes you to tip over the edge too, body shaking as rafe collapses over you, rubbing your clit with his cock lodged inside of you until both your highs have worn out, your pussy sucking and clenching out every bit of cum he has to give.

“god.” rafe rolls off of you and onto his back. “you are fucking amazing.”

“you did most of the work.” you giggle.

“you know.” rafe says as he pulls you into his chest. “you play us at home in three weeks.”

“mmm.” you lift your head up and press a kiss against his jaw before you bare your teeth and nip at his skin. “perfect time for us to get revenge.”

“keep that up and i might just have to tackle you again next game.” rafe laughs, but you just flip over so you're on top of him, straddling his hips as his cock starts to grow again.

“you wouldn't dare.”

“if it gets you in my bed all night then i might.”

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askinkiskarma · 1 year ago

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➸ ʀɪᴅɪɴɢ ʟɪᴇᴜᴛᴇɴᴀɴᴛ!ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴛᴀʀɢᴇᴛ ᴘʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴄᴇ

pairings: simon "ghost" riley x female!reader

a/n: i wrote this for the "praise/degradation" kinktober prompt and it could fit both jake sully and ghost so i decided to publish it for ghost. is it self-plagiarism to just copy paste it and post it for dilf!jake, too? asking for a friend

warnings: pwp under the cut (18+ mdni), pet names (doll, love, princess, kid), implied age gap, slight degradation, some praise, semi-public i guess??

wc: >400 words

ghost masterlist (x)

“Feels… so… good… fuck!”

Bouncing on your lieutenant's cock in a hidden bush after excusing yourself from target practice was not on your list of things to do today, but then again… it never was. But you just couldn’t help it, not when there he was, so fucking hot, giving orders, showing trainees how to shoot all the different guns in the army's arsenal, not when your underwear was uncomfortably sliding against your swollen folds, dripping in slick. The people will be fine practising on their own for a while, right? After all, the target was right there, all they had to do is… aim at it… right?

“Fucking hell, kid…” Ghost's voice was gravelly and low, the thick accent mixing beautifully with the gritty groans that escaped him as you twitched around his length with every thrust that threatened to bruise your already aching cervix. It was maddening, the pace he set, the way he couldn’t help but buck his hips upwards to be even deeper in your tight, soaked pussy, the need to be closer, to feel you, to fill you, ever present and ever growing.

“You look so good taking my cock. So good.”

The best you can do in response is a faint moan, so focused on maintaining the pace he set, thoughts overflowing with how good he felt, how much it all was, how when he pulled the mask slightly upwards and captured your nipple in his mouth, sucking while circling your sensitive clit with his thumb, it all made tears prick at your eyes painfully and free flow down your face as the orgasm drew closer and closer with each passing moment.

“Couldn’t even wait 'til the end of practice, could you? My desperate, needy slut. Always have to have all your little holes stuffed, eh?”

HIs words always had such power to bring you to your knees, or to your orgasm, the feeling overtaking all of your senses, white noise all you were able to see and hear as he continued abusing your convulsing cunt.

“Squeezing me so well, gonna make me cum all over this pretty pussy. But I’m not done yet, love.”

It took no effort on his part to pull you off him and manhandle you in a new position, barely managing to hold your own weight on all fours, so spent and overwhelmed from the onslaught of sensations he was so good at eliciting in you and for you.

“Come on, doll. Face down, ass up. Gotta make sure to fill you up until everyone on that field knows how much you like being fucked until you’re dripping from all sides.”

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lace-coffin · 1 year ago

Note

Hi! Can I ask how the slashers would feel if they ever accidentally hurt their s/o? Gender and everything is up to you!

How slashers would react to Accidently hurting their S/O

Thank you so much for my first ever request ah! I hope you enjoy 💖

Requests are open!

Warning for blood/injury - mild sexual content/reference to sexual activity and power dynamics -unhealthy relationships (I think?)

Reader is gender neutral!

Bubba sawyer

Most likely happened via Bubba playing too hard and Accidently pushing you over or being a bit too heavy handed with you. If it’s a case of them mistaking you for a victim and catching you with their chainsaw before being able to stop then they’ll be even more in inconsolable : (

Stops and stares for a minute to process what’s happened before devolving into full blown panic.

She’ll drop whatever she’s doing to carry you back to the house, even if that means letting the victim escape and having Drayton yell at her.

Will hurriedly explain in rushed sign to either Choptop or Nubbins to go take care of the victim as he’s busy caring for you.

Checks you over frantically. Please explain you’re going to be ok and help them calm down.

Once he knows you’re not in any danger he’ll feel absolutely awful about it and whine apologies to you even if you tell him that it’s ok and it wasn’t their fault.

Please comfort them once you feel better and reassure them.

Will insist you come up with a verbal and nonverbal sign to give if they’re accidently messing around to hard.

Will make you agree to stay in the house out of the way when victims are around so you don’t Accidently get hurt again.

Thomas Hewitt

After another night of Hoyt berating him for things out of his control, Tommy storms off to the basement to cool off. You follow after him, intending to comfort and wanting to help. You place a hand on his shoulder without thinking, forgetting he doesn’t enjoy physical touch without warning, thinking it might help. Whipping around he grabs your wrist a little too hard, causing you to wince.

He snatches his hand back as soon as he realises what he’s done.

Tommy will bring you to Luda may to have her check you over and assess the damage.

Once he knows you’re safe he’ll confine himself to the basement for a few days, only coming out to eat but even then it’s tense.

He’s truly sorry and feels like all those people who called him a monster and an animal were right, he hurt the one he cares about most, after all.

After a few days apart, a lot of hushed words of affirmation and kisses/nose bumps he’ll feel comfortable being with you again.

You know to let him cool off by himself and come to you when he’s ready after a heated argument now.

Michale Myers

You jump out at Michael thinking it would be funny to catch the shape off guard for once and not the other way around. Unfortunately this backfires and he swings his knife at you, thinking it may be an intruder since you’ve never pulled something like this before, You manage to jolt out of the way but the knife still catches you in the shoulder. Thankfully, it’s only superficial and will heal, but it still looks like it needs medical attention.

Initially Michael looks at you unamused, granted it’s hard to tell what he’s feeling underneath the mask. He gives you a kind of “well If you weren’t being dumb this wouldn’t have happened” attitude. However this is a front for the actual panic he refuses to show on the surface.

Having a few cuts and scratches isn’t super uncommon when your with Michael considering his tastes involving knives in bed ; )

Usually hurting others comes naturally and without remorse to Michael, so it shakes him to his core that he’s actively worrying about your wellbeing instead of feeling the usual indifference.

It disturbs him that he actually cares about someone enough to feel remorse for his actions.

After unceremoniously pulling your shirt off and looking the wound over he forces you go to A&E, practically marching your ass out the door.

Since he’s basically an escaped criminal he can’t exactly casually walk in the hospital with you, however he will stalk you the entire time, lurking close by to make sure you arrive and leave safely.

Although he usually has his guard up he vows to try be a little less bristly with you from now on if it means he doesn’t have to see you hurt and feel that awful tug of regret/worry in his chest.

Jason voorhees

You went out looking for Jason one night after he hadn’t returned to the cabin by his usual time. You were worried he’d been overpowered by a group of trespassers or caught in a trap and didn’t have any way to communicate that to you. The woods were beautiful but so dense and vast, getting lost or injured in the thick of them may as well be a death sentence.

Whilst searching for your missing partner you get your leg snagged in a bear trap he had set out previously for the trespassers. You howl in pain as you hear the sickening snap of your ankle between the traps jaws.

Jason was trudging his way back to the cabin when he heard it. Knowing that wasn’t a rougue teen as he’d cleared them out already, alarm bells went off in his head. He stormed to scene as fast as he could.

He could have sworn his undead heart stopped for the second time as he saw you sitting there in agony, murky blood seeping into the forest floor.

He rushes to your side and looks frantically between the trap and your teary face, he knows he’s going to have to disengage the traps and for you it’s going to be..less than pleasent.

He signs for you to grip onto his arm for support. Since he’s already dead and regenerates fairly quickly he feels it’s the least he can do to let you grip his arm for dear life as he wrenches the trap from your shattered ankle. If you cause any damage to his arm (which is very unlikely) it will heal up in no time anyway.

Once he’s carried you back to the cabin he’ll be frantically following Pamela’s directions in his head for what to do and how to clean/ wrap it.

If the damage is extensive he’ll relent and let you go to the hospital, only if a trusted friend takes you though, he’ll be sitting by the window of your shared cabin every minute until you return back to him.

You’re no longer aloud to be out in the woods after dark alone if he’s set traps. You both carry whistles now so if he’s not home and you need to know he’s safe you can whistle to each other and feel more at ease.

Billy Lenz

Interacting with Billy when he’s having an episode is never a good idea. You thought it would be fine to just be in the room though, providing you stay out of his way. As you enter, Billy is in the midst of trashing his attic once again, the disgusting feelings bubbling in his chest too much to bear. You enter just as he’s angrily thrown an old glass christmas ornament at the floor that the sorority had kept in storage. It shatters and flecks of sparkling glass scatter along the floor. One piece catching you in the hand in a nasty glass splinter. You swear under your breath and rush off to take care of it.

Billy doesn’t even realise what’s happened until you return to him, him now having exhausted himself and you knowing it’s safe to try do some damage control. You bring him a sandwich and juice knowing he’ll need it after all the energy and tears he just used up.

Your hands touch as he’s accepting the plate from you with a muted “thank you” and he notices the bandage.

Billy essentially bristles up like an angry cat at the idea of someone hurting his piggy and demands to know who did it and what happened.

Once you tell him it was actually from the ornament he feels horrible. He doesn’t even remember it happening with the state he was in.

He snuggles into the crook of your neck and mumbles apologies into your skin.

Billy will place sloppy kisses over it as an apology until you forgive him. (Not exactly hygenic since it’s an open wound but i mean…you’re dating the attic rat)

Brahms Heelshire

When living with Brahms there isn’t usually much to injure yourself on considering the estate is fairly out of the way from the rest of the village. You most likely caught yourself on a pair of sheers. Brahms is being stubborn about you being out of the house and slings the sheers in your general direction from the door frame when you ask for them. You don’t even notice you sliced your hand when catching them until you see a patch of blood soaking through your gardening gloves about ten minutes later.

You come in to grab a tea towel to wrap your bleeding finger in, not really fazed as it’s only a small cut. Brahms was lurking from the window as you tended to the hedges, not wanting to be away from you but not yet brave enough to tempt leaving the house he’s been in all these years.

As soon as he sees it he’s panicking, it’s only a little cut and you’re not concerned in the slightest but to Brahms you may as well have just came in with an arm missing. He’s instantly flittering around you asking if you’re ok and if you need a hospital.

You stifle your laugh at his over the top concern, you find it rather sweet, it’s not his fault he’s a little bit sheltered.

After cleaning the cut and bandaging it, it’s totally fine. If anything Brahms needs more reassuring and coddling than you do to get him to settle.

He apologises a thousand times for his attitude because he knows If he hadn’t been stroppy about you leaving the house and passed the sheers nicely then you wouldn’t have been hurt in the first place. He promises to try be more composed when he starts getting antsy.

He may need some ✨punishment✨ in order to encourage his behaviour change and to feel forgiven.

He begrudgingly lets you back outside to garden after about a week.

Asa Emory

If you’re the pet of Asa then it’s likely that most of your injuries are purposefully given from him and are no mistake. You’re poked and prodded often considering your residency in the collection. Wounds from experiments and correctional punishments when you disobey or refuse to submit are not uncommon at all. So it doesn’t bother him since he inflicted them. This also assures he cleans them with clinical precision. If you were anyone else he would leave the wounds to fester, if you died from a complication then that was just inconvenient. Not you though, you’ve caught his attention and heart. He loves you in his own domineering way.

If the wound was created by him on accident then he would give himself a hard time, chastising himself for his carelessness.

For example, if he had more trouble with law enforcement than he thought and that led to you to spending way more time in the trunk than you usually do, causing you to develop a sore from sitting in one cramped position for too long.

Asa would realise you’re injured once you’re let out of the trunk, hissing in pain as you stretch. He makes you show him where you’re hurting so he can inspect over it.

Despite Asa’s stony face his stomach is actively sinking. He knows you’re hurt because of him and it wasn’t purposeful or measured like it would be during a punishment. He sees this as failure in his pet care and it takes a blow to his god complex. Gods don’t make mistakes, but here he is, hurting his dolly by being so out of it.

He’ll make sure to clean it for you and even stop putting you in the trunk for a while. This does however still mean you’ll be attached to him via leash or chain connected to the ring sitting on his belt. Just because you’re hurt and his favourite toy, doesn’t mean he will except anything less than your complete and total submission.

He’ll be more tender and soft handed with you than usual for a while after. Punishments will be withheld until you heal. Then it’s back to normal routine as expected.

Predator/yautja

You were wearing a new perfume you’d picked up at the market during the day, You were only supposed to be getting meats and maybe a new fur for the bed but once the alien at the stand had convinced you to sample it you fell in love with it.

Your mate picks up on an unknown scent entering the house, hackles raising and stalking towards it. As soon as they catch the heat signature they throw a wrist blade in warning.

Their eyes widen in horror, rushing to the door as they catch scent of your tangly blood dripping onto the hardwood floor of your shared home.

The new perfume masked your familiar scent from them, making them believe the house was in danger and being intruded on. If their face could loose colour it would, cringing as they see the wrist blade sticking through your palm, groceries discarded at the door.

They start talking at you in rapid clicks before they realise you can’t actually understand. After making sure to keep the object in your hand so you don’t bleed out and that you’re not going to pass out on them, they insist on carrying you their medic instead of going to an ooman one.

They argue that their medicine is far more advanced and will heal your wound much more efficiently then your “ primitive ooman medicine”

Thanks to yautja medicine being far more advanced, It will heal like nothing ever happened in around two weeks. The wound stitched shut and given some kind of injection.

Your mate purrs and clicks for you deep from their chest the entire time you’re having the blade removed to try calm you.

They beg for forgiveness despite it literally being an accident and will need some reassurance that they haven’t failed you as a mate. Once you’re all healed up they’ll bring back an impressive skull from a hunt as an apology even if you’ve already forgiven them.

Whilst it’s healing you’re probably going be kept in the nest of furs and pulled tightly against them whilst they purr and sooth you.

My requests are open if you’d like to send any prompts or ideas for me to write!

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hannieehaee · 5 months ago

Note

what if girls noticed nerd jk was getting attention from mc and that made them curious enough to try and speak to him and mc gets a wittle jealous and possessive 👀👀👀👀🥹🥹🥹🥹

18+ / mdi

content: loser!jungkook, sub!jungkook, softdom!reader, afab reader, smut, situationship implied, jealousy, penetrative sex, etc.

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, extra

wc: 1897

a/n: loved this prompt omg thank u for requesting anonymity<333

masterlist

you weren't a jealous person. that just wasnt part of your personality.

never had you ever had to feel jealous about any boy you liked giving attention to someone else. nor did you think you'd ever have to.

so why was it that you were currently green with envy as you watched an unsuspecting jungkook be bombarded but the attention of three girls?

that was your boy toy, not theirs. you had been the one to find him and take him in and wreck his mind, so why were they suddenly so interested?

the two of you were supposed to meet in one of the many hallways leading to the campus' quad in order to head over to get some lunch before your tutoring session. however, after having waited over ten minutes leaning over the wall in which you'd usually wait for him, you began to grow annoyed. you walked around a bit, attempting to see if he was nearby, only to never locate him. even after a phone call and three texts (three!!!), there was no response from the boy. it wasn't until you walked over to the next hallway that you spotted him from afar, a shy mess as three girls surrounded him with flirty smiles.

one of them kept reaching out to touch at his chest, pulling at the neck of his dress shirt to reveal more of his skin – jungkook shyly took a step back, but the sight still bothered you. another annoyingly twirled her hair as she made eyes at him – jungkook's eyes didn't meet her own, but the implication made you far too angry. the last one had grabbed his phone from his hands, likely entering her contact info in it – this was the one that made you fume the most.

you weren't close enough to hear the conversation, but you could still see every single move and action coming from the girls, all targeted at your jungkook. you'd never felt this jealous in your lifespan.

sure, you weren't official with jungkook, but you still did not dare look at any other guy now that you had jungkook all to your disposition. how could you when you had such a pretty and obedient boy so obsessed with you?

soon enough, you grew far too annoyed at the sight, marching over there decisively, ready to rip heads off it necessary.

you made it close enough for jungkook to finally spot you behind the three girls, with them being too distracted by the pretty boy to realize you were currently standing at a short distance behind them. jungkook immediately perked up, features morphing into those of shock upon taking notice of the annoyance in your face. he opened and closed his mouth a few times, which alerted the girls of your presence, causing them to turn to you.

"baby-," is what slipped out of his mouth, immediately covering it in embarrassment.

rather than shocked or ashamed, the girls seemed bothered by the interruption, giving you looks of disdain and disgust while your eyes remained on jungkook.

"what are you doing with my boyfriend?", you finally spoke up, annoyance reeking from your voice.

"b-boyfriend?", asked jungkook, unable to mask the shy smile making its way to his face.

the most annoying girl of them all scoffed, jungkook's phone still in hand, "boyfriend?", she tilted her head to the side in mock curiosity.

stepping forward, you snatched the phone from her hand, grabbing onto jungkook's hand with the other and stepping in front of him before facing the girls again, "i'd appreciate it if you didn't hit on jungkook. he's taken," you said before marching away once more, dragging a willing jungkook along with you.

you didn't look back at all as you walked away, not even to check on jungkook. still annoyed, you held tightly onto his hand all the way to your dorm, not uttering a word at the boy the entire time.

"i'm so sorry, i didnt- hmph!"

"shut up, jungkook, just- just shut up," you rasped before attacking him with your lips.

the moment you made it into your dorm, jungkook was ready with apologies as soon as you closed your door, turning to you with his pretty doe eyes and a pout. you could tell on your way here that he noticed your discomfort at the previous confrontation, likely scared that you were mad at him.

but you could never be mad at him. you knew those girls only showed interest in him when you first noticed him. it had quickly become a hot topic when you and jungkook began to be spotted together hand in hand, though you never confirmed any type of relationship to anyone. you'd noticed more girls taking notice of jungkook ever since, but these had been the first ones to try and shamelessly take him from you.

so you dragged him home and pushed him up against the wall, not allowing a single word from his lips. you were far too bothered to have a conversation. you needed to confirm to yourself that jungkook was yours and that no one else could even go as far as looking at him with suggestiveness in their eyes.

"'m sorry- they- fuck, i didnt-"

the poor boy kept trying to sneak in apologies in between kisses, but your lips wouldnt stop attacking his own, sucking into his tongue until he submitted to your kiss.

eventually, your lips trailed down to his neck as your hands unbuttoned his dress shirt, wasting no time in running your hands up and down his sculpted physique. sometimes you cursed at yourself for never having noticed such a pretty boy before – especially when he'd been pining after you all along.

"hated seeing you with those girls," you grunted into his skin, nails scratching down his chest and abs, drawing a hiss from him, "so fucking annoying ..." you muttered.

"i didnt- i didnt realize they were flirting with me, i-im sorry," he stammered, too lost in your touch to give you a better explanation.

you disconnected from him, grabbing onto his belt loops and harshly pulling him into your living room, with him numbly following you. pushing him onto your couch, you threw off your shirt and wiggled your pants down before sitting on him, lips immediately finding his again.

"made me wait for you," you whined, "made me watch those girls be all over you ... so mean to me ..." you huffed into his lips.

he shook his head but continued kissing you, "m sorry ... 'm so- so sorry," he pleaded, hands digging into your hips and attempting to make them make contact with his own, but you persisted against it.

"you're sorry?", you asked, pulling away. grabbing onto his hands, you placed them on your bare tits, knowing it always made him crazy when you let him touch you, "you didn't look sorry back there, though?"

his eyes remained on your tits, hands shyly squeezing at them. his glasses were foggy by now, making you have to remove them to wipe them before putting them back on him, "i ... im so sorry," he mumbled again, without much thought. he kept biting his lips and looking down at your tits, head shyly tilting forward to seek permission to get them in his mouth.

"do you want them, kookie? you want those girls?", you sneered, throwing his hands off you and huffing above him, no longer sharing any contact apart from you sitting on him.

this woke him up from his lust-filled trance, "n-no! no, i could never- i want you! i only want- it's just you!," out of character, his hands went to wrap around you, pushing your against his chest. for once, he did not ask for permission as his lips went to your chest, desperately kissing and sucking at it as apologies left his lips.

you sighed in contentment, fingers running through his locks, "my kookie ... you're mine, right? only mine?", you asked, sighing again at how good he worshiped your body. his hands were restless as they felt up your hips and ass, attempting to push you against him so you'd grind on his hardening cock, this time successful.

he groaned at the friction, nodding into your chest, "yours ... y-your boyfriend," he sighed, nibbling at your nipple before softly licking at it.

"need ... fuck, need to show you you're mine," you decided, suddenly pulling away and drawing a whine from him. your hands went in between you to help him remove his pants, pulling them down low enough to pull his dick out.

"please ... show me. need you to show me ..." he cried before breaking his voice with a gasp, hands tightening around your waist when you lowered yourself onto him with no warning.

"m-mine, fuck- you're all mine," you rasped, open mouth against his own, unable to properly kiss due to the sudden stretch.

"t-tell me you're mine too ... please-", he begged, nosing at your cheek.

"'m yours, pretty. your girlfriend, hmm? just like- how you're my boyfriend. right, kookie?", you groaned out in between bounces, catching jungkook's groans right in your ear.

the poor boy did not stand a chance. your words got too him too easily, making him begin to beg to cum faster than expected, and far sooner than he usually did.

but you still needed to punish him a bit. even if he had been aware of the girls flirting with him, you had still been forced to bare witness to their grubby hands on him, a sight that still made you see red.

"can't cum, yet, bunny ... be good and wait for your girlfriend," you commanded lightly, "you'll be good, right, bunny? my pretty bunny ..." you rambled, slowing down your thrusts and leaning back so your clit would rub perfectly against his pelvis. it made you lightheaded.

he nodded without any other words, gasping every so often when you'd tighten around him. hands were greedy in how they dug into your plush skin. likely leaving marks.

"'m gonna cum, bunny," you revealed, "gonna give it all to you ... with me? hmm? cum with me, baby?", you were a mess just as he was, whining out every word pathetically.

yet he fared far worse than you, unable to form any words, simply whining your name as he nodded against your skin.

taking this as a green light, you let yourself go, continuing to bounce crazily on him whilst your orgasm took over you, eyes rolling back when you felt him find his high along with you.

"s-so good ... m-mine ... only want you ... just y-you," he grunted, falling back against the couch with eyes shut close.

you let yourself fall against him, nuzzling into his warm chest and drawing patterns on his skin with your fingers, refusing to make a move to slip him out. wrapping his arms around you, he gave you the impression he also wanted you to remain there.

"i'm sorry," he started, "id never flirt with anyone who wansnt you ... too shy to even flirt with you in the first place," he chuckled shyly.

"it's okay, bunny. just like you so much ... it drove me crazy to see them think they could just have you like that," you grumbled, kissing his skin to calm your annoyance at the memory.

"i only want you," he reassured, hands caressing your back softly.

"me too, bunny."

#bts scenarios #bts imagine #bts fanfction #bts x reader #bts oneshot #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #jungkook smut

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heytheredelulu · 6 months ago

Text

Unbreakable

Unbreakable Part 2 can be found here!

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

ALL OF MY WORK IS 18+

C/W: Oral sex (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, cream pie, language

Summary: You’ve always wanted to be a mother but your husband is too tormented by his past to believe he could ever be a good father. For so long you’ve accepted that it will never be in the cards for you- after all, it’s only a small price to pay to continue to live the life you’ve built with the man you love. But what happens when you finally admit that you want what he refuses to give you? Will you push him away with your confession or will you finally make him realize that he’s not the man he believes himself to be?

A/N: Look, I’ve been hormonal as hell for the last two weeks and it’s got me craving some angsty, soft, needy Bucky-

And some passionate, sensual baby makin’ sex.

So without further ado, please enjoy the longest fic I’ve ever written.

“Doll?” Bucky asked softly, kneeling down in front of you and lowering his head to your level in an attempt to draw your attention up from the book sprawled open in your lap.

You’d been much more reserved as of late and it was beginning to worry him. Your smile seemed a little weaker, a little more forced, and your overall demeanor had reversed; as if the bright light that you always exuded had been extinguished and you were now floating along on the furls of smoke that were left behind- here physically, but mentally you were always elsewhere.

“Hmm?”

You turn the page gently without looking up and Bucky sighs, reaching to carefully slide the book off your lap, snapping it shut and placing it on the coffee table.

“Look at me, angel.”

You let out a slow breath, lifting your head to meet your husband’s troubled gaze, his brows furrowed in concern.

“You wanna tell me what’s wrong, or are you gonna keep hiding out with your nose in a book all day?” He asks quietly, hoping that this time you’d open up, pull back the curtains you’d drawn so tightly and let him into those veiled thoughts of yours.

You shrug, trying to avert your eyes but his hand gently grasps your chin, tilting your face back towards him.

“Angel, please.”

You shake your head, afraid to share with him what’s been troubling you for weeks, afraid to dredge up long washed away agreements.

“It’s stupid.”

He raises an eyebrow, pinning you under his cerulean stare.

“Nah, it’s not stupid if it’s got you this worked up. C’mon.”

He affectionately tucks a piece of hair that had fallen loose when you’d shook your head back behind your ear before offering you a small smile that breaks your resolve and you feel the tears beginning to form on your lower lash line, the translucent beads of heartache obscuring your vision.

“I want a baby.” You whisper, immediately wishing you’d never uttered those four words once you see the corners of his lips begin to pull downwards.

When he slowly stands and takes a hesitant step backwards, that mask of stoicism you’ve worked for so long to peel away slipping back into place, your heart seizes in your chest.

“Bucky..” You plead, a tear slipping down your cheek as you rise from your seat and reach out for him, afraid you’ve pushed him too far with your admittance. “James.. Baby.”

He shakes his head, holding his palm out towards you in a feeble attempt to maintain his distance while he mulls over your confession but you press forward, placing your hand gently on his forearm.

“I need some air.” He mumbles, shrugging off your hand and moving quickly towards the door.

Before you can muster the voice to call out for him again, the door is closing behind him with a soft click and he’s gone, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Why couldn’t you have just kept your mouth shut?

You scold yourself, your mind reeling with the possibility that you may have said too much despite only saying so little when you hear his motorcycle roar to life out in the garage.

He was running again.

You’d known the idea of children was a difficult subject for Bucky. It had only come up in discussion a handful of times before and when it had, he was always quick to dismiss it, stating he’d be a terrible father before descending into a rabbit hole of self-deprecating comments you’d have to reach down and pull him out of with a steady hand of reassurance.

As time went on you’d pretty much conceded to the idea that you’d never have the chance to be a mother if you wanted to continue to live the life you’d built with the man that you loved and you’d grown to accept that fact. At the time it felt like a small price to pay for the joy and love that Bucky brought you but as the years went on and your friends and coworkers grew their families, welcoming new, bright eyed babies, you began to feel a sense of longing for what you had always thought you’d never want.

His behavior was so much different this time, the way he’d clammed up, shut you out and needed to completely remove himself from your presence. His reaction had never been so extreme before and you couldn’t help but wonder if it was how desperate you’d seemed- the tears in your eyes, the pleading in your tone.

Those thoughts and unanswered questions weighed heavily in your mind while you escaped the afternoon inside the pages of your book until the sun began to set through the bay window and you finally dragged yourself up to bed, your restless mind carrying you into a dreamless sleep.

It was nearly 2 in the morning when Bucky crept barefoot into your bedroom, the hall light bathing your sleeping figure in a corridor of fluorescent light as he quietly opened the door. His breath caught in his chest as he lingered in the doorway, this vision of you reminding him just why he always affectionately referred to you as his angel.

He shut the door softly behind him, shedding his t-shirt and jeans before gently pulling back the sheets, his heart and his cock simultaneously swelling when his gaze settled on the image of you in your silk night gown as it rode innocently up your supple thighs.

He crawled silently up the foot of the large bed, lowering himself onto his stomach and settling between your legs, his hands gently kneading the tender flesh of your thighs as a low and shuddered breath blew from his lips.

He carefully pushed the hem of the silk garment higher, exposing your cotton briefs and the soft flesh of your belly, moving to rest his head against the bare skin. His hand hesitantly caressed your abdomen.

All afternoon his head had been plagued with the fear of losing you, the feeling of inadequacy resulting from the pain in your tone when you confessed the desire for something he felt he could never provide.

But once alone with his thoughts as he tore down the interstate on his motorcycle, physically trying to outrun the deep rooted trauma of his past, the pieces began to fall into place for him.

You’d loved him unconditionally through his trauma, offered him unwavering support and shined light to the darkest depths of his soul, always seeing something inside him that he could never see in himself.

But you were fading. Becoming physically and emotionally withdrawn under the weight of sacrificing such a fundamental need that you craved- all for him.

Maybe he’d never overcome his past. Maybe there would always be a darkness beyond the surface that kept its claws dug deep into the innermost reaches of his subconscious.

Or maybe he had already overcome it and had just been so blinded by his own self loathing that he hadn’t realized. Surely if he was as cold and broken as he believed himself to be, he never would have been capable of loving you in the all encompassing way that he did.

You, the one person in his life that could melt the ice encapsulating his heart with only a flash of your warm smile.

He’d never wanted children. He always believed he’d be a terrible father but the desperation in your eyes when you confessed that you wanted a baby with him brought him to consider that maybe it had always been his own insecurities rearing their ugly head as they always did when he tried to imagine himself as anything more than the man he used to be.

His hand stroked idly across your bare abdomen in slow, languid movements as he tried to picture the soft flesh stretched and swollen with his child.

His child.

A life created from the love and the passion that the two of you shared, to raise in the home you’d built together, to nurture with the kindness that you exhumed and to mold into a better person than he could’ve ever hoped to have been with the guidance only someone as patient as you could provide.

He’d never wanted to be a father, never thought he was capable of being a father.

But you, you made him feel as if he were capable of anything and as he had pulled his motorcycle over onto the side of the highway and wept that evening, he knew now without question that he wanted- no, needed you to bring his child into this world.

“Baby?”

Your sleepy voice penetrated his thoughts as you spoke into the dark room and reached your hands down to tenderly run your fingers through his brunette locks.

“You came home.” You mumbled, trying to rouse from your slumber enough to properly talk to him.

Bucky raised his head off of your belly, sliding his hand up your torso, through the valley of your breasts to settle at your nape. He gently cupped your jaw and tilted your head to look at him as he hovered above you.

“Of course I came home.” He says, the hurt evident in his tone. “Why wouldn’t I?”

You catch your bottom lip between your teeth to prevent it from quivering as your emotions begin to rise to the surface again.

“I don’t know. I just-“ You hesitate, worried that you’re toeing a fine line of sending him running again if you don’t choose your words carefully.

“Angel..”

He settles his thumb over your mouth, effectively silencing you as he gently strokes the pad of his calloused thumb across your bottom lip.

“I always come home.” He whispered, leaning down and tracing the tip of his nose across your jawline. “I will always come home to you.”

“I thought I’d scared you off.” You admit softlyly, reaching your hand down to caress his cheek, the light stubble rough against your skin.

He leans into your touch, his eyes slipping closed as he draws in a shaky breath.

“You could never scare me off.”

His jaw clenches and he opens his eyes, looking at you with a haunted gaze.

“If anything I’m scared of myself, doll.”

You move to sit up, wanting nothing more than to take him in your arms, chase the demons from behind his eyes with the comfort of your loving embrace but he’s quick to place a large hand between your breasts, firmly pressing you back down onto the mattress.

“No.”

He repositions himself above you, dipping his head and bracing his weight on his muscular forearms as he trails a line of open mouthed kisses down your bare abdomen.

His breath fans against the soft cotton of your panties as he hooks his fingers under the waistband and removes them at a torturously slow pace.

“I don’t wanna talk about me and my bullshit.” He says in a low voice, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh and sending a shiver up your spine.

“Actually, I don’t wanna talk at all.” He adds, lifting your legs to rest over his shoulders.

“Bucky.” You warn softly, reaching your hand down to push his hair off his forehead. “We really should talk about this. We can’t avoi-”

He steals the words from you when he gently spreads your folds with his fingers, his breathy chuckle warm against your sex.

“I’ve got a much better way to make use of my mouth.” He murmurs, bowing his head and glancing up at you with lustful eyes. The image of him between your thighs, looking at you with such intensity was enough to silence you entirely.

“Let me show my angel what heaven feels like.”

A desperate moan rises from your throat as Bucky laps at your weeping cunt in long, slow strokes with his flattened tongue. He laves upward, tracing gentle circles around your clit, catching the swollen bud between his lips and suckling, your back arching off the mattress in response.

“Fuck.” You whimper, carding your hands in his hair to hold him in place.

He hums, flitting the tip of his tongue downwards and dipping into your fluttering hole, drawing a gasp from your throat as he fucks you with it, euphoria building at the base of your spine.

“For an angel-“ He mumbles and raises his head up, his unshaven chin slick with your arousal, pinning you under his gaze as he sinks two fingers inside you and begins pumping them slowly.

“You sure do taste like sin.” He muses.

He latches back onto your clit, flicking his tongue in quick movements while simultaneously curling his fingers inside you, stroking you closer towards climax with every ministration.

“Baby, I- fuck!”

Fire erupts through your core and you clench around his fingers, tightening your grip on his hair and jerking your hips upward to grind your cunt against his face as you cry out in ecstasy.

He chuckles against your tender flesh as he withdraws his digits, the warmth of his breath causing you to writhe against the sheets as you ride through the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“You’re so goddamned beautiful when you come.” He whispers, wiping his mouth on his forearm and shifting his weight against the bed as he rises momentarily up to discard his boxers.

He positions himself above you, bracing himself on his palms, his biceps flexing as he dips down to press a kiss to your pulse point.

Dazed and breathless, you reach down to guide him to your entrance, pausing when your hand curls around the warmth of his bare cock.

“Shit, condom.” You mumble, working to maneuver yourself out from under him in order to reach towards the bedside table.

He stops you with a loose grasp around your throat, gently pushing you back into the pillows.

“Don’t need one.” He breathes out, settling himself between your slick thighs.

Your brows furrow in confusion and your mouth falls open in question but he carefully slides his hand up your neck to grip your jaw, pulling you into a deep and sensual kiss.

You slide your hands across the expanse of his toned back, returning the kiss with equal intensity before he breaks it, resting his forehead against yours.

He silently guides your hand to his hard and aching cock, closing your fist around it as he releases a shuddered breath against cheek.

“You’re gonna take my cock.” He grunts, peppering kisses across your jawline. “You’re gonna take my cum.”

He bucks his hips against your grip, urging you to bring him against your weeping hole.

“And you’re going to have my baby.”

Your eyes widen at his words, the quiver in his voice telling you this isn’t just some form of dirty talk but that he’s sincere and desperate.

“Bucky, are you sure?” You ask in a broken whisper, clarifying for good measure.

“You are going to have my baby.” He repeats, his voice carrying demand.

You let out a whimper, lining him up with your entrance and withdrawing your hand once he presses the leaking tip of his cockhead into your cunt, quickly burying himself inside you with a purposeful thrust of his hips.

You gasp at the stretch and he stills, his pelvis flush against you, sucking in a sharp breath at the way your inner walls are gripping him, free of the confines of a condom for the very first time.

“Goddamnit, angel. I don’t think I’m going to last very long.” He chokes out, the feeling of your tight, wet cunt engulfing his cock leaving him nearly breathless.

God, what he would do to stay inside you like this forever.

He draws his hips back, retreating almost completely before thrusting back into you. His lips part and his brows knit, breathy moans rising from his throat as he picks up a rhythm, his very soul craving to feel you around every inch of his length.

His hunger for you is apparent with every deep and merciless thrust and that sense of needful longing sets your every nerve ablaze.

He crashes his mouth against yours, kissing you frantically as reaches for your hands, lacing your fingers together in a fervent grip.

Pleasure pools low in your abdomen and you bring your trembling legs up to wrap around his waist, rolling your hips up in sync with his strokes as you chase your climax.

He groans in response and increases his pace, his heavy sack slapping against your ass with every frenzied rut into you.

“Oh fuck, please, baby. Please come on my cock. God, I need to feel you. Fuck, fuck!” He pleads with a shuddering breath that betrays how desperately he’s fighting to maintain his tempo as he climbs closer towards the edge with every passing second.

The sight of this beautiful man barely able to refrain from falling apart for you, begging for you to come on his cock, is enough to break you. White hot pleasure spreads through your core, flooding your body in a wave of euphoria as you cry out for him in choked sobs.

“Bucky! James, baby!”

He pounds into you at a brutal pace, incapable of holding himself back any longer, drawing strangled noises from you as he fucks you through the waves of the orgasm gripping your body.

“I love you, I love you, I-“ You whimper over and over in a cock-drunk stupor, rocking your pelvis sloppily against his movements.

He grunts, his hips stuttering as he stammers out your name in a breathless plea before giving one final deep thrust and he stills, emptying himself inside you with a throaty moan.

Bucky slumps forward burying his face into your neck, words of praise falling from his lips in a whisper against your skin as you remain in each other's embrace, hearts racing and chests heaving in the afterglow.

The steady thumping of his heartbeat begins to lul you towards a state of peaceful sleep and as your eyes slip closed, you feel the bitter emptiness of him withdrawing from inside you only to jerk back to full consciousness at the sensation of his fingertips against the tender flesh of your swollen cunt.

As you start to rise up on your elbows in order to better observe what it is he’s doing, he softly shushes you, smirking as he trails his fingers along your slit, gathering up any of his seed that had managed to escape your aching hole and gently pump it back in with his fingers.

“Not letting you waste a drop.” He murmurs, collapsing onto the bed beside you and reaching an arm around your waist to pull your back against his broad chest.

He envelops you in his warmth, his strong arms wrapped lovingly around you as he rests his nose against the crown of your head, slowly and deeply inhaling your scent.

“What made you change your mind?” You ask softly, snuggling your cheek against the bicep of his flesh arm.

His vibranium arm drapes across your abdomen and he splays his palm above your pelvic bone, gently brushing the cool metal of his thumb back and forth in affectionate strokes along your bare skin.

“You.” He replies, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Me?” You ask incredulously. “How the hell did I manage to change your mind about something you were so adamant about? We didn’t even talk about it, Buck. I just told you what I wanted.”

He sighs, settling his chin atop your head. “You’re right, we didn’t.” He admits in a low voice. “But you know I’m a man of few words, angel.”

“But that doesn’t mean we just avoid the subject completely and then jump headfirst into this. Not that I’m complaining, it’s just that I need to understand how you managed to get here. That was- this was unexpected.” You respond, placing a gentle hand over his forearm and stroking your fingertips lazily across the spray of soft, dark curls adorning it. “You say you’re a man of few words but I know damn well you have a lot to say, you just don’t like saying it. You don’t like grappling with your emotions, Bucky. I think maybe its because you spent so long having them repressed against your will.”

He’s silent for a beat before drawing in a slow breath and in those several moments of quiet you feel a rising sense of dread that maybe you had overstepped with your assessment.

“Do you know why I call you ‘angel’?” He asks quietly, his thumb stilling against your lower belly.

You tilt your head in confusion. “What?” You question, your own fingers slowing their leisurely circles along his arm. “Baby, you’re deflecting.”

“I’m not.” He explains, raising his head, his thumb resuming its languid strokes across your skin. “Just answer my question.”

You huff, resisting the urge to roll your eyes by instead moving them back and forth to follow the movements of his thumb. “It’s a pet name, like baby or doll.”

He shakes his head and lets out a soft chuckle, his breath tickling the back of your neck.

“It’s a pet name, yeah. But do you know why I call you that?” He asks.

You shrug. “No, I guess I don’t.” You reply, tilting your head back to look up at him. “Are you gonna tell me?”

His lips curve into a smile as he looks down at you and in the dim light of the bedroom you notice how glassy his eyes appear, as if he’s just a blink away from a tear escaping his blue eyes.

“Because you saved me.” He whispers with a small crack in his voice that makes your heart ache. You want to ask him how- how he could possibly say something as bold as that you saved him, but your breath is caught in your chest at the vulnerability Bucky is showing you in this moment.

“Baby, when you met me I was so broken. I think maybe I still am.” He continues, resting his cheek against your shoulder in a clear attempt to hide his expression from you because he was stubborn and you were right. Emotion was not something Bucky expressed freely because he spent nearly his entire life with them suppressed so if he had any hope of baring his soul to you now, he couldn’t possibly let you see his face as he did it.

“No one dared to get close to me because they were too afraid of getting cut on the shattered pieces of who I was. But not you. Never you.” He explains, pausing as he draws in a slow and shaky breath while he considers how to express how much you mean to him when he wasn’t entirely sure there were even words capable of doing so.

In his brief pause you shift your weight, rolling over to face him properly before he continues.

“You didn’t care if you got cut because you saw something in me worth believing in and you weren’t afraid to bleed to get to it. You rebuilt me. You saved me.” His voice is hoarse as he struggles to hold his composure and keep from breaking down completely. “Your faith in me gave me hope- it gives me hope that maybe I’m capable of more than I think I am.”

A single tear finally breaks free, slipping free of his lashes and sliding slowly down his cheek in the wake of his heart lay bare to you.

“You give me too much credit.” You whisper, reaching up to brush away his tear with a trembling thumb. Your touch lingers on his skin and he places his hand overtop yours, pressing your palm to his cheek as he pins you under his tender gaze.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit.” He counters.

“Neither do you.”

He opens his mouth to argue but closes it and sighs when he realizes you’re right. You’re always right.

“I love you. I love all of you- every single piece, including ones you say are broken.” You whisper, offering him a soft smile as you gently push the hair back from his sweat-slicked forehead.

“They are broken.” He breathes out.

“I don’t think that’s true. If it were, could you really love me the way that you do? Think about it, Bucky. After everything you’ve suffered? You’re not broken, you’re unbreakable.”

He hesitates, running his hand down his face to mask the way it crumples at your words and wipe away the tears now falling steadily down his cheeks.

“I don’t deserve you.” He whispers.

You sit upright, leaning forward and cupping his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your eyes.

“You deserve everything, Bucky. Life owes you love. It owes you kindness for fucks sake.”

“Not after what I’ve done.” He mutters, the ghosts of his past flickering behind his eyes as he begins to retreat down that godforsaken rabbit hole inside his head again but you won’t allow it. Not this time.

“Especially after what you’ve done. Because you weren’t given a choice.”

He shakes his head, his eyes squeezing shut as if he can’t bear to let you see him this way.

“And what happens when they find out who- what I used to be?” He asks in a pained tone, nodding towards your belly as if he somehow believes his seed has already taken root in your womb. “They’ll find out. We won’t be able to shelter them from the truth.”

“Baby, look at me.” You demand, your expression stern as you rise up and lean forward on your knees. “Will it matter when they only know you as the you that you truly are? How can I make you see yourself the way that I see you?”

Bucky sighs, his shoulders slouching. “What would I do without you?” He asks quietly, resting his hand against your thigh and kneading the flesh beneath his fingers.

“Never have clean laundry or dishes.” You tease in an attempt to lighten the sullen mood. He stares up at you in disbelief for several long moments before unexpectedly delivering a swift smack to your bare ass, drawing a yelp from you that is immediately followed by a string of lighthearted giggles.

“Damnit, doll- I’m being serious!”

“So am I!” You argue, stifling a laugh. “I found a cereal bowl under the bed!”

He groans, covering his face with his hands. “It was one time.”

You smirk, your eyebrow quirking up in skepticism.

“That’s one time too many.”

“You’re ridiculous.” He grumbles.

“But you love me.”

He hooks an arm around your waist, pulling you into his embrace with a dramatic groan and you rest your head against his chest, draping your arms around his neck.

“I do.” He whispers, tracing his fingertips along your spine. “More than I could ever begin to explain.”

“A broken man couldn’t love me. A broken man wouldn’t know how to love me.” You point out. “And God, baby- you make me feel loved every moment of every single day.”

His breath catches and you can hear his heartbeat begin to quicken in his chest against your ear before he rolls over abruptly, pinning you underneath him as he looks down at you with an expression of adoration and that familiar fire in his gaze.

You tilt your chin up, a grin stretching across your face as you place your palm against his chest and state proudly, “You are James Buchanan Barnes and you are-“

He devours the words from your mouth before you can finish speaking them as he kisses you with urgency, stealing the breath from your lungs with the way his mouth moves desperately against yours.

Your hands explore his toned back, the feeling of his muscles flexing under your touch driving you to greedily draw his body closer to yours until he settles his weight onto you.

He breaks the kiss with a smirk on his lips as your head falls back, sucking in a sharp inhale at the warmth of his cock pressing into the soft flesh of your bare thigh, already hard and weeping for you again.

He lowers his head, nuzzling his forehead against your temple as he completes your stolen sentence in a whisper against the shell of your ear:

“Unbreakable.”

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