#sorry i love the fact that adam expresses himself using his hands and i love portrayals and explorations of grief and its effects in media.

[kinopio-writes]

Hi! Would you be willing to write something for Adam with a sensitive reader?

Everyone knows that he is loud-mouthed jerk, even reader, and she loves him regardless, but one day he crosses the line and says something particularly mean that makes her cry. Like REAL mean. To the point that he pauses because he did not think before speaking (or, well, less than usual lol)

I'm happy with whatever format you feel like using! Thank you!

A/N: I will be more than delighted to write that for you. But would you excuse me for a moment? AHHHHHHDISJDIOEOFJSKXJND—I’m sorry; I love this idea so much. Reading ‘Adam with a sensitive reader’ got me hooked instantly. But I’ll go over that in the headcanons, along with the general stuff. And I’ll add a oneshot at the end that plays the exact scenario of Adam taking it too far.

Holy sh!t. I made it so that the reader being sensitive is their greatest but also weakest point and it turned out pretty angsty. Has a bit of hurt/comfort, though. Did I go overboard? Maybe. That’s why it took so long. Sorry, anon.

Words: 2,328 (edited)

Warnings: Sex is mentioned (only a bit, surprisingly), Angst, Adam being Adam

———

Adam w/ a Sensitive!Reader

• ha, this man is also sensitive himself

• well, sensitive about himself

• he feels his own emotions strongly, so he’s not the caring, easily able to pick up on other’s feelings and empathize type of sensitive

• you, on the other hand, are on the opposite end of the spectrum compared to Adam

• so you experience other people’s emotions just as strongly as yours

• you easily know what makes someone tick

• you’re selfless

• you’re able to admit your mistakes and apologize

• you’re respectful and actively listen to people when they talk about themselves

• you don’t push people down to make yourself seem better

• you try to make everyone feel good and comfortable

• you’re everything he isn’t

• because you fit in Heaven perfectly

• you deserve to be there

• and Adam knows that he doesn’t belong (subconsciously at least)

• you’re able to draw people in just for being yourself

• and he’s envious of it

• so he demeans you and is snarky about everything you do, and every time people give you praise or affection, he tries to divert the attention to himself or just stares at you with utter hatred from afar

• although all of that is just when he hasn’t even had a conversation with you

• after a while of being around you, he’ll cling to you because you give him the reassurance and validation he oh-so craves (he acts as if he didn’t hate you before. What do you mean? You two were always buddy-buddy!)

• you acknowledge all of the things he puts his worth to

• heck, you hang out with him—you sometimes even initiate it—willingly, and you’re genuinely interested in everything he has to say

• but he‘ll only hang out with you where no one recognizes you (so you don’t get all the attention)

• terrible transition here, but he notices that you mimic people’s expressions often

• he definitely makes fun of you for it

• and also mocks you

• up until he realizes that you do the same thing to him, too

• which is fine and all, if only you didn’t do that when he’s upset

• well, you mimic him when he’s joyous as well, but he (already subconsciously) expects you to. I mean, why wouldn’t you? He’s fucking hilarious!

• so you copying his negative emotions just stands out more

• and he…doesn’t like it

• that’s only really what he doesn’t like about you

• and the fact that you hog all the attention

• and the fact that people see you as perfect…

• buuut what happens when he gets to see a new side of you that isn’t exactly upholding that image?

———

Your phone lit up from your bedside table, brightening your otherwise dark room along with the soft glow of your halo. You only moved your eyes to the light, not wanting your tears to spill and dampen your pillows.

You had an inkling as to who was texting you this late—if the fact that your phone lighting up several times in the span of 5 minutes had anything to say.

When the texts stopped pouring in after a few seconds, you heavily sighed, wings ruffling. You resisted the urge to rub your face as you went to grab your phone.

HEY (2:34) HEY (2:34) HEY (2:34) ARE YOU UP? (2:35) I’M BORED (2:35) GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE (2:36) IF YOU’RE UP (2:37) ARE YOU? (2:38) DID I TELL YOU THAT BITCH WITH THE HUGE TITS GOT FIRED TODAY? (2:39)

Figured. Of course, it was Adam. He was the only person you knew who’d be awake at this ungodly hour. And the only person you knew who’d disturb your peace if it meant curing anything that ailed him. Which was now about boredom, it seemed.

You read a few of his texts displayed on your lock screen before tapping one of the notifications and opening the app, scanning the rest of the unread messages.

Adam was going on about ‘that bitch with the huge tits’—her name was Tiffany, you were sure—and how she was rumored to have slept with an archangel to assume higher authority. He also went on to complain about how he didn’t have the chance to bed her anymore since she was basically deemed an outcast and that he couldn’t be seen with someone like her.

You frowned, not believing any of it, but you didn’t have time to think about it enough when he began typing again.

SO YOU’RE AWAKE (2:43)

You barely finished reading the new message when another one popped up.

DON’T IGNORE ME BITCH (2:43)

You frowned deeper, quick to type out a reply.

i’m not (2:43) i was just reading your texts (2:43) don’t worry (2:43) i’ll be there soon (2:44)

When he stopped typing, you placed your phone back on the nightstand, sitting up on your bed as you carefully wiped away your teary eyes. You hugged yourself for a moment, wings functioning as a cocoon while a hand tugged on your hair.

Today had been draining—both mentally and emotionally. Just like the day before, and the day before that. But you didn’t want to think about it, lest you start to cry some more and smear your face with tears this time. What mattered was that everyone was back on their feet again.

Since you didn’t bother changing into your sleepwear when you got home, you only checked your face in the mirror to see if your eyes were puffy or not. You then took in deep breaths, holding up your drooping wings before putting up a charming smile.

You couldn’t stay in the bathroom for long, quickly leaving to tread the path to Adam’s.

•••

“BOO!” Adam’s masked face suddenly peeked from the corner of his hallway, earning an indescribable scream from you as you jerked back. He burst out laughing, brows creased in confusion but also amusement. He couldn’t even make fun of you for getting scared. “What the—what the fuck was that scream?”

Recovering rather quickly as you blinked, you only smiled at him. You were expecting him to wait for you on his couch as his front door was left unlocked, but you weren’t complaining; his action took away any drowsiness you just had.

When Adam didn’t hear you laugh with him, his laughter subsided as he opened his eyes to look at your face. He raised his brows and placed the back of his hands on his hips. “What’s up with you?”

Shit. There was no way Adam was seeing through you.

“Nothing; I just love hearing you laugh.” You heard a tiny squeak in response. “Anyway, what did you make me come over for? Surely not just to scare me.” You moved past Adam and tightly crossed your arms, entering his spacious living room.

“Pshh, fuck no. You’re so easy to spook. Though that was a first. Didn’t know you could hit high notes, (Name).”

You didn’t know what to say to his…compliment? And sort of insult? Was it really either of them? Should you thank him? But in a sarcastic way? No, you weren’t known for being sarcastic, so he might think you were being genuine and look at you weirdly. And it would also seem highly egotistical.

Not as if Adam had much to say about that…

You tugged at your hair when you caught yourself with those thoughts. Shit, that’s so rude! You can’t think that! You shouldn’t think that!

You settled on an awkward chuckle, making yourself appear smaller as you averted your eyes to his TV space.

It was different, certainly. The modular couch pieces were rearranged into a pit sectional. And it looked as though he had chucked a bunch of pillows and one large blanket as an afterthought. It appeared messy, but at least it looked cozy.

“What’s this?”

“Hm? Oh, well, since you were taking your sweet ass time coming here, I thought to switch things up a bit.” You flinched when his head appeared right on your shoulder. “What’d ya think?”

“It looks super comfy.” Adam wore a goofy grin behind you as you walked closer to the area and noticed that he already prepared snacks on the low table. “Is this a way to say you wanna do a movie marathon?”

“You know it, baby.” He flew past you and landed on the sofa, patting the space beside him with a smile you just couldn’t reject.

•••

Heaven’s natural light beginning to peek through the open windows indicated that it was already dawn. Thank goodness you didn’t have work today.

You two—or rather, Adam—had settled on watching the film series, Die Hard. Every single one. You didn’t mind, but you didn’t understand why Adam invited you over if you two were just going to rewatch the film series for the eighth time.

He had also been pretty immersed in the large screen in front of him, so he hadn’t attempted to converse with you ever since the first movie started. In all honesty, he could have just watched them all by himself.

But you didn’t question it. This time was the same as the last seven, after all. You always concluded that maybe he just wanted someone to watch movies with, no talking necessary. Even if the no-talking part sounded a bit out of character.

Was it though? Because he did that quite often. For instance, he constantly brought you along to whatever mundane errands he had to do during the weekdays and never really talked with you unless he found something cool and pointed it out.

Although, the earlier times you tagged along with him on his errands, he kept yapping his mouth off about the ‘totally awesome’ things he does. He talked about music, his own albums, his band, women, sex, and himself as the first-ever man.

As time went on, however, the talking was replaced with silence. You wondered if he just ran out of things to say or if he found it unnecessary to talk anymore.

You also sometimes wondered what was going through his head when he thought you didn’t see him glancing at you while he was doing something he believed was boring.

The sound of Adam’s stomach rumbling broke you out of your train of thought.

You both looked at each other blankly as if either of you were to blame.

He blinked to break the eye contact between you. “(Name), I’m hungry.”

You snorted, facing ahead. “You ate all of our snacks before the first movie even finished.”

“Don’t blame me.” He hugged the pillow he held tighter. “I’m still fuckin’ hungry, though.”

You hummed as you reached for your pocket. “Do you want me to—oh. I…I forgot my phone.” You frowned. You never forget to bring your belongings.

Adam merely stared at you, unblinking.

You averted your eyes and held your legs tighter. “Uhm, We could get delivery if you want. Can you lend me your phone?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” He casually tossed you the device before laying on his back and looking up at you. “I’m down for anything.”

His phone hit your knee before you could catch it, silently landing on the cushions. “Are you sure?” You picked it up, opened his unlocked phone, and stared at his basic home screen.

He didn’t really use his phone that often to know that it could be changed. He only really used it to fetch one-night stands or occasional dates, text, play music aloud, look at outdated memes, take random blurry photos, and right now, order delivery.

“Totally.” His crow’s feet displayed on his mask as he puffed out his cheeks.

“Because last time you said that, you didn’t like what I had to pick.”

“That’s because the 5 ʼn 2 is so fucking overrated!” he suddenly started to complain. Your wings ruffled. “Jeez, I swear, every fuckin’ time I take a chick out and ask her what her favorite eatery is, basic bitches always go, ‘Oh, bREaD & fIsH, ceRTAinLy’ or ‘bReAD & FiSh’S a cLAsSIC’” He used his hand as a puppet to imitate their words before waving it. “Like, helloooo? Can’t you see the joint that’s literally on the other side of the street’s a hundred times superior? It’s cheaper, too, unlike Bread & Fish. Overpriced ass. You get me, right—?”

“Then you pick!” Adam jumped at your volume, and your eyes widened upon noticing yourself. You quickly gave back his phone as you turned your face away from him, and he slowly took it with a weird look.

“Shit, chill, (Name). The fuck’s up your ass?” He kept his gaze on you before turning to his phone.

While he was serious about his opinions of your bland tastes, he didn’t think it was that personal. Your preferences were the same as everyone else and that was boring. He was just being honest. And you usually didn’t take the things he said that seriously.

“Adam, I’m sorry,” you spoke up after a moment of silence and ran a hand through your hair. “I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

“ʼs not a problem.” He was still a bit weirded out, but he was willing to shrug it off.

You insisted, however, “I mean it. I’m not mad at you.”

“Okay…?” he muttered when he saw a notification pop up from Lute. Her message consisted of how some of the exterminators got into a quarrel during roll call and the ones involved got injured in the process. She said she was going to discipline them.

Adam did not want to know what she meant by that and was most likely not going to stop by their place today.

“Really. I’m not. Sorry. It’s just that yesterday’s been…”

“Uh-huh…” At this point, Adam was not listening to anything you were saying. But when he still heard the static noise that was your words, he groaned. “Look, sweetie, I really don’t give a fuckin’ shit about your fuckin’ apology, ʼkay? I don’t fuckin’ care. Now what do you want?”

You saw Adam’s confused yet concerned expression after he looked up from his phone and immediately noticed that you were starting to cry. You instantly turned your face away as you carefully wiped your eyes.

“Sorry. Sorry. I’m not crying because of you.” You didn’t know if that was true. You didn’t know if you were crying because of his words or were crying because of everything else.

That was the first time he ever used a sweet petname for you in a long time. He only ever used that to demean or mock other people.

Shit. Stop thinking—you were going to cry more. But even after carefully wiping your eyes away, new tears kept flowing. You couldn’t stop. This was humiliating. You wanted to disappear. You didn’t want anyone to witness you in this state. It was mortifying.

“Shit.” Adam’s voice came out panicky as he held his hands out towards you, but he hesitated. Hesitated in what, he didn’t even know.

He…didn’t think you could cry.

Adam didn’t know what to do; this emotional shit wasn’t his thing. He couldn’t ask you to leave, he knew that much, but he didn’t want to leave himself. This was his place. Why should he leave?

So, he did the only thing he could do in this situation.

You suddenly felt something warm envelop you.

You didn’t look up, but you knew it was Adam. You could feel the texture of his robe on your hands and the side of your face. You could feel his hands on your shoulder blade, but you couldn’t quite feel his arms on you.

You stopped wiping your eyes for a moment.

No one had ever hugged you before when you were sad.

No one had ever let you be sad.

Adam heard you sob.

Fucking great. He made it worse. What the fuck was he supposed to do then?

But when he went to unwrap his arms, he felt yours slip around his midsection, pulling him closer than before as he grunted from your firm hold.

So you wanted to be hugged? Alright. Whatever.

Adam slowly hugged you back after you muttered a ‘sorry’ and loosened your grip.

The next seconds were silent, so when he heard muffled words coming from you, he looked down. You also looked up moments later when he didn’t respond, realizing he must’ve not heard you.

Your gaze softened as you two held eye contact, and with teary eyes, you smiled. “Thank you, Adam.”

Something about his expression changed, but before you could stare any longer, you felt a hand behind your head push you back to his chest as the arm on your back held you tight.

“Yeah, whatever…”

[unknownunidentified101]

LND HEADCANNONS

WARNINGS | slight angst and suggestive

CONTAINS | Rafayel, Xavier and Zayne

ABOUT | random head cannons with love and deep space men

RAFAYEL

He has a fear of heights, it doesn’t help his job requires him to travel around the world. With that, he will always finds some solace in you

“ remind me why you called me again?” You stood at the entrance of the gateway to the plane. Rafayel tries to ignore your question, submitting his plane ticket to the flight attendant

“ earth to Rafayel?” You were slightly annoyed, having been called at 5am to go to the airport

“ gosh I thought the sight of the airport would answer that question” Rafayel sighs. You remain adamant, waiting for a proper response

“ fineeee. I’m going away for an art exhibition, I wanted to take you with me” Rafayel explained, dragging you inside the awaiting airplane

“ why? Isn’t Thomas coming with you!” You huffed, crossing your arms in a fit. Rafayel pauses and turns back to you. “ you’re my body guard no?” He tries to mimic a puppy’s eyes

“ I am but this sort of thing doesn’t really require protection” you refer to the airplane. Seeing that you wanted to leave, Rafayel grabbed your wrist

“ I’m just scared of heights okay?” Rafayel confessed. You were bewildered. Him? Afraid of heights? You would think he would be use to flights by now

“ why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Your tone softened

“ you would bully me” Rafayel pouted. You felt guilty, you were acting like a brute before.

“ I wouldn’t…in fact, I’ll support you.” You stare down, intertwining your fingers with Rafayel’s . “ if there is no stable ground, I’ll be your land” you vowed

Rafayel parts his lips, in awe at your words. “ just tell me next time” you smile tenderly, leaning upwards to give the man a peck on the lips

EXTRA NOTE : Rafayel made you hold his hand the entire flight ( and you sat in the window seat)

Has thing for holding you very tightly. Most people would give you a squeeze but Rafayel finds himself leeching onto you

“ she said she would be here soon!” Rafayel complained to Thomas. “ I already called her, she will be here soon” Thomas was also getting increasingly annoyed

“ did you even call the right number?” Rafayel whined, Thomas snapped back, “ I did! I heard her voice!”

“ just great” Rafayel mumbled, slumping back in his seat. “ if only you didn’t lose your phone in the accident” Thomas mumbled under his breath

“ I heard that!” Rafayel sprung out of his hospital bed

Before Thomas could utter another word the sounds of the door unlocked. “ [y/n]?” Rafayel’s hopes were exceedingly high

“ Rafayel!” Your frantic voice echoed through the hospital room. Thomas had a relieved expression while Rafayel sprinted to you, ignoring the wires attached to his body

“ Baby!” Rafayel was like a little child, squeezing you tightly. All his resentful emotions were long gone by now.

His lips peppered you with numerous kisses

“ Rafayel” you breathed, or at least you tried too, he was squeezing you like no tomorrow. “ Rafayel! Too tight” you had to mutter

Rafayel instantly let’s go, scared he hurt you. “ I’m sorry! I missed you so much” he held your hand

“ me too. Now get back to your bed mister! I have to lecture you!”

He has frequent nightmares of you killing him or vise visa. It disheartens him to think about it, knowing he can’t cry it out.

Rafayel wakes up in cold sweat. His eyes frantically search the room. You weren’t by his side and that’s what saddened him.

He had a recurring dream, the moment where you perished. It was unbearable for him. With a cold breath, Rafayel hazily stumbled out his room

While arriving outside his room, there was a dim light in his studio. He was confused, usually his studio would automatically have the light off at night

With his guard up, he walked into his studio. However instead of a thief, it was you.

Relief washed over him. You were the only person he wanted to be with right now. “ [y/n]?” He calls your name

Your back was faced to him and as you heard his voice you were startled. “ oh Rafayel! I was just taking a walk” you walk to the man

“ I was wondering where my lover went” Rafayel couldn’t help but chuckle. “ did I worry you? Are you okay?” You asked many questions while carelessly caressing Rafayel’s cheek

“ I’m fine. Just a bad nightmare” Rafayel admitted, rubbing his face into your hand. “ poor you” you coo, wrapping your hands around the man’s neck

Rafayel hums, wrapping his arms around your waist. “ can we go back to the bed now?”

“ okay”

He has SO many moles.

You sat next to Rafayel while he muses about his latest painting. You couldn’t help but realise the small moles on his face

“ your moles are cute Rafayel” you mention. Rafayel stops painting, placing his paint brush down

“ what?” He wants to hear you again

“ your moles. I could kiss them all day” you teased with a smirk. Rafayel’s cheek turn to a hue of pink, “ you know, they say your moles are where your past lover kissed you” you point out to Rafayel’s moles

Rafayel smiles. Ironic because you were all his past lovers. “ Is that so? Should I claim you now then?” Rafayel gains the courage

You were a bit startled by his comment but you gave in to his alluring eyes. Not long after you found yourself colliding lips with Rafayel.

Every time he looks at you, he gets a wave of adrenaline, he vows that one day, he will marry you.

“ beautiful isn’t it?” You pointed at the flowers embedded in the garden. Rafayel only has eyes for you, “ really beautiful” he emphasises, eyes fixated on you

“ are you even looking at the flowers?” You turn to Rafayel’s soft gaze

“ the only beautiful flower I see, is you.” Rafayel gently whispers. “ In fact, you are even prettier than a flower” he adds

You feel butterflies swarm in your stomach at the mention. “ can you promise me something?” Rafayel inquires

Your body faces him, letting him know you were listening to him. “ promise me, you’ll never leave me” Rafayel pulls you closer to him

“ where is this coming from?” You giggle at the mention. Rafayel’s eyes hold seriousness, letting you know he was not joking. You feel his hands hover over your lip

“ never mind. I will Rafayel, I will never leave you” you pinky promise, making Rafayel relieved. “ good, in that case, I’ll marry you then.” Rafayel leaned in for a loving kiss

And indeed, he will marry you again.

XAVIER

Despite always being sleepy and being on the verge of knocking out, Xavier always tries to stay awake for you.

“ and I couldn’t believe it Xavier! The nerve of that woman” you ranted. It was late at night and you just got home after a mission

“ that woman had no sense of respect” Xavier added. “ I know! And she yelled at me” you ranted even more.

You were frustrated and annoyed, throwing your pillows on your bed. “ but I’m sorry for annoying you Xavier, you probably want to sleep” your tone changed

There was some silence before Xavier softly answered. “ no. Keep going. I love hearing your voice.” He muses

“ are you sure? I don’t want to bore you” you lay on your cushioned bed. “ you could never ‘bore’ me dear” Xavier breathed

You couldn’t tell if he was going to sleep or not but nevertheless you chatted your head off. You thought Xavier would fall asleep but he would always hum and give you short sentences in response

He made you feel appreciated

Sometimes when you speak, Xavier can’t help but stare at your lips. His a very bold man, therefore he kisses you to stir you up

“ Tara said she would buy me these” you pout at recalling a fond memory. Xavier stays silent, listening to your rant

“ Is that so?” His eyebrows show interest

“ yeah but she ended up buying this for herself” your pout was abnormally large. Xavier stared with pitiful eyes

You were utterly breathtaking. You put him under a spell he could not resist

“ but you know it’s okay-“

Before you could finish your sentence, a pair of lips engulfed your own. You were stunned to say the least, closing your eyes after registering Xavier’s actions

“ Xavier..” your tone whined as Xavier parted from your lips. “ I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist myself, you were too cute” Xavier teases.

“ you sly fox” you mock, feeling Xavier pull you even closer to him. “ say that again and I’ll give you even more kisses”

You always have your way with him. He always finds himself losing to you. His utterly intoxicated by you.

“ what if you Iose?” Xavier looks at the card in his hand. “ if I lose..?” You begin to ponder

“ if I lose, I pay for the meal tonight” you wager. Xavier is intrigued by your words. “ alright then, loser pays for tonight’s dinner” Xavier readies his cards

You were determined but that wouldn’t last long. You see, despite Xavier not knowing half the rules of the game, he somehow had an advantage over you

The problem was he knew he was going to win. Xavier looks up at your worried expression. You seemed frustrated and it was evident you didn’t want to lose

Xavier smiles. It was never his intention for you pay for the dinner you two would be having that night. Xavier stays silent, closing his eyes

He knew you would take the bait and swap the kitties in the cup. As soon as your shuffling finished, Xavier peeked his eye open

“ huh. The cats position seems off” he plays it off like a natural. “ Is it? Can’t tell” your laughs were stifled

Xavier’s lips stay upwards. “ guess I’m the loser then.” Xavier surrenders. You swayed him into losing and he didn’t regret any bit of it

He did it all for the smile on your face.

“ I’ll pay for the dinner tonight okay?”

He spends majority of his time looking after you. Even when you don’t see him.

“ Xavier are you there?” You had called Xavier after talking with your friends

“ what do you mean?” Xavier tries to make it sound like he just woke up. “ i thought I saw you behind me” you begin to worry

“ I’m at …home” Xavier says after some hesitation.

“ are you? You know the craziest thing happened to me” you begin to retell. “ tell” you could feel Xavier’s nod through the screen

“ I was talking with my friend and suddenly the light nearby went off, so he left me alone” you explained. “ what’s crazy about that” Xavier’s voice seems forced

“ I’m scared to walk home but then a speck of light comes down and guides me” you sounded crazy

“ really..?” Xavier tries to hide his cheeky voice

“ yeah, the light reminded me of you. To bad I never got to finish my conversation with my friend” there was a glint of sadness in your speech

“ you sure? 23 minutes was enough” Xavier spurted out.

You had a smirk on your face. “ how did you know we talked for that long?” It was your turn to tease him. Xavier goes silence, caught red handed

“ you cheeky star.” You joked. “ anyway, open the door, I’m outside your house” you knock on the door

Xavier shuffles and panick envelopes him. “ that is…unless you aren’t home?” You were too smart for him

The sounds of the call hanging up are heard and you hear footsteps approaching you

“ fine. You caught me” Xavier’s voice rings from behind you. “ you really are cute Xavier ” you smile, hugging the man

“ whatever” Xavier hides the sourness in his voice, kissing your forehead.

A HUGE tease

You were relaxing in Xavier’s sofa after he called you over. Playing on your phone you hear the door unlock.

Sitting up quickly, your eyes dart to Xavier. Xavier appears before you, only wearing pants with a towel slinging around his neck

You felt hot instantly, Xavier spots you after he attempts to dry his hair. “ ah, you caught me” he smiled at your reaction

You feel Xavier’s footsteps travels over to your position. “ what’s wrong? Do you have a fever?” Xavier grazes a hand over your cheek

“ or…are you embarrassed?” A sly smirk appears on his lips

“ go away Xavier” you fluster up. Xavier giggles. “ you’ve seen me like this before…so why are you acting all shy now?”

ZAYNE

When you happened to be partying one time, Zayne had to bring you back home. However this was proven to be a challenge when you wouldn’t budge, so instead, he carried you over shoulder his shoulder

“ let’s go [y/n]” Zayne meets you at a night club. Sure enough, you were very drunk

“ party pooper” you mock, trying to drink another glass of alcohol. Quickly and swiftly the drink is swapped from your hands.

“ I don’t like that tone” Zayne softly holds your cheek.

“ hey! Zayne I was drinking that!” You slur to Zayne’s stoic face, Zayne observes your drunken state and smiles softly. “ time for you to go home” Zayne reminds

“ I don’t want to go home. I’m fine right here” you were still in your seat

Zayne is tired, and more over, he knows you weren’t in a stable state. “ i see how it is” He sighs, grabbing your waist while pulling you in

“ what are you doing!” Before you could finish your speech, Zayne lifts you over his shoulder.

“ Hey! Put me down!” You throw a fit while the man couldn’t care any less

“ I told you to go home” Zayne holds you securely. Waving to all your friends. “ this is so embarrassing” you grumble, Zayne’s lips begin to grow a smirk in victory

Zayne sometimes notices the way your desk is scattered with papers and books, being a small clean freak, he cleans things for you without being asked

Zayne passes by your table. It looked like a truck had wrecked your room. Your table had notes scattered everywhere

Sticky notes were folded and pages looked worn out. Zayne sighs, knowing you just had your final exams. You weren’t at home as of currently,

So silently, without being ordered to, Zayne cleans your desk and eventually, your room. He makes sure to keep boundaries, knowing not to mess with your private stuff

Then it was as if time had passed by very quickly. He had finished the work just in time for you to come home from your exams

You were exhausted and pent up. Opening your door you see a rose petal path leading to the kitchen

Smiling at the sight, you follow the path and see Zayne prepare a home cooked dinner for you. “ welcome home dear” Zayne looks back at you

You felt like crying, he was so sweet. You dropped your bags, stumbling over to the man

“ i love you. I don’t deserve you” you sniffle into Zayne’s shoulder. “ me too” Zayne murmurs

“ how did you do all this?” You were breathless, lookng around your decorated home

“ I got off work early, so I came over and cleaned up your place. Then I cooked dinner for you” Zayne make it seem like it was nothing

You felt your eyes water. “ Zayne…you…you are the best” you engulf his body again, squeezing him

“ you are just want I needed after a long day Zayne.”

He has nightmares very often. He always tries to lure you to his house to spend the night

The storm raged outside Zayne’s room. He is less startled than you. “ it’s really pouring out there” you look at the falling rain drops

“ a pity really” Zayne wipes the dishes in his hands

“ but you know I really have to get home” you muster the courage. Zayne looks worried, he stops you. “ how will you get home?” He pouts

“ a taxi I suppose” you huff

Zayne can not allow that, who knows what the night brings to unsuspecting victims

“ you can stay” Zayne points out. You shake your head, “ I don’t want to be a bother” you try to decline

“ I have trouble sleeping.” Zayne says out of nowhere. You tilt your head in slight confusion

“ I would like it…if you stayed” Zayne fiddled with his hands out of nervousness. You realise the severity of his words

“ you should’ve started with that. Of course I’ll stay Zayne” you walk over to the cold man, cupping the man’s cheek

“ thank you” Zayne rubbed his cheek against your hand. “ I should be thanking you” you laugh wholeheartedly, sharing a kiss

Very picky with food so you always end up eating his left overs.

“ Zayne?” Your voice crowds his thoughts. Zayne looks up, realising he had sorted out his food into big portions

“ are you going to eat that?” Your fork points at the pile of carrots on his plate.

Zayne looks down and embarrassingly shakes his head. “ you don’t like carrots?” You piece some information together. “ I was never fond of it” Zayne puts it

You smilel. “ a doctor not liking healthy foods? Strange” you comment

“ that’s a stereotype, who taught you that?” Zayne looks a bit annoyed at your mockery . “ I’m kidding of course!” You chuckle at his expression

“ here, give me the leftovers” you offer. Zayne obligates, passing you his own plate

“ …thank you.”

Looks forward to your daily visits to the hospital. If you don’t show up, he will get more aggravated

Zayne lights up upon seeing the door open. He had been checking the time regularly and he predicted you would arrive by now

“ here are the documents Dr Zayne” his assistant rolls around. Zayne can’t hide his disappointment, his smile was now a frown

“ what? Is something wrong?” His assistant judges him.

“ nothing is wrong” Zayne props up his glasses upwards, eyes now fixated on the computer screen ahead of him. His assistant knows something is wrong and realises the reason

“ your girlfriend should be arriving by now-“

“ why? Is she here? Did she come by earlier?” Zayne seems to have high hopes in his tone. His assistant smirks and Zayne feels a tease coming out of her mouth

“ why are you asking that? Do you miss her?” She places a hand on her hip

“ no. “ Zayne tries to immediately defend. “ you can tell me you know! I wouldn’t tease you” his friend tries to frame him

“ leave” Zayne avoids her gaze. The nurse sighs, rolling her eyes, “ fine whatever” she dismisses, walking out the room

Zayne curses silently, typing away at his keyboard. However not too long after, the door unlocks again. “ I told you to stop teasing me” Zayne nonchalantly scolds

“ teasing you?” He recognises a sweet voice

“ [y/n]?” His eyes are filled with sparkles upon seeing you. “ I’m not teasing you” you repeat with a smile, opening your arms for a hug

Zayne immediately gets up and hugs you without exchanging any more words. “ your late” he couldn’t help but lecture

“ sorry, there were a lot of wanderers today” you pat his shoulder.

“ are you hurt?”

“ nope.”

EXTRA NOTE : on one of your visits, you notice Zayne Keeps a photo of you in his office. If his ever stressed, looking at you is enough to bring him relief. However it is always good to have the ‘real deal’ in front of him.

[undiscovered-horizon]

Hello all well ? I couldn't help but want more of your beautiful story.😍😍

could give us more Morpheus and reader (Imagine being the one who frees Morpheus), where the people adore their new queen but morpheu thinks that I don't fulfill all the duties with his love, he didn't even ask her to marry him or had a coronation, but reader is calm about it.pleases thanks

[Check out the series HERE] || Sandman-inspired playlist

For the record, you weren't an actual queen as in the bride of a king. Despite that, the inhabitants of Dreaming collectively decided to treat you like one and soon you had found yourself to be part of the court hierarchy. Not that you could ever complain about such honour - you received a lot of love and respect for simply giving advice or asking someone to consider their grudge from a different perspective. To the inhabitants of Dreaming, who were used to Morpheus's just but strict reign, a droplet of sweetness and tenderness seemed to be like water is to a cotton-mouthed man.

Morpheus might have appeared oblivious to your social 'promotion' but he was perfectly aware of it. To his dismay, no one ever outright informed him that you have allowed or done something without his council, even if those were small, fairly insignificant matters in the grand scheme of an entire realmn. Morpheus had to rely on his own observations and whispers that seemed to completely disappear whenever he was around. In any case, he had realized that there existed an entire world he was not privy to when he heard someone excitedly whisper 'Our queen' for the very first time. Dreaming did not, in fact, have a queen. Not officially, at least.

Your selflessness captured his heart, which was obvious, but it had also, quite literally, killed you for a moment. Maybe it was his fear of losing you for good or his sympathy towards the struggles you had suffered on his accord, that made Morpheus adamant about having you think solely of yourself for the first time in your life, to finally be at peace after everything you had been through. As one might expect, his desire surely did not include having you fulfil part of his royal duties. The guilt gnawed at him until one day Morpheus found himself unable to ignore the current state of affairs.

He was marching through the crystal halls of his palace prepared to dress you in silk and diamonds or do anything else that would somehow compensate for the bland weight of ruling you had on your shoulders. If he could, if you allowed him to, he'd tear it right off and break his own spine accommodating it.

Morpheus's rushed footsteps suddenly stopped when he noticed you standing on the balcony, leaning against the marble ledge. Your back was turned to him and for a moment he indulged in his selfish desires; watching your dress gently dance on the warm breeze, he wondered whether there truly was something divine about you. Maybe, if he asked nicely, you could tell him what heaven is like as you sure know it like the back of your hand. Or perhaps spring, the mother of hope and rebirth, had recognized its own face in yours, telling the wind and the sun to warm you on cold days. But if you were spring, like Persephone, was he not akin to Hades?

Such thought made him shudder. The quicker he solves his plight, the faster this feeling of dread and shame will dissolve. In fact, it seemed like blasphemy to experience something so bitter and bleak while you were within his arm's reach.

Hearing footsteps against the marble floor, you slightly turned around to see who had decided to visit you. Although the sight of Morpheus did excite your heart, the grim expression on his face, a shadow that towered over his regal beauty, quickly calmed the thrill inside you.

"You should not be fulfilling my duties for me," he stated. Strangely enough, he sounded angry.

Unable to tell what could sour his mood like that, you furrowed your eyebrows. "I'm sorry for upsetting you, Morpheus, although I have to be honest that I do not know what duties you're speaking of. I never meant to cross you, dear."

Morpheus didn't answer. He made his way towards you and did not stop walking until the tips of his shoes were brushing against yours. So far, you couldn't quite tell whether he was oblivious to a certain social etiquette or simply liked being so close to you.

His ocean-like eyes bore into you as if he was trying to enter your own mind and make himself at home there. If you were asleep, perhaps he could but you were awake and that forced him to actually speak his thoughts, although reluctantly: "Are you happy here?"

"What makes you ask that?"

Morpheus pursed his lips at your answer. Perhaps he was expecting a slightly different reaction from you - one that did not include voicing his introspection and making friends with vulnerability. "You tend to my subjects, bring order and prosperity into Dreaming, and yet I have failed to give a wedding worthy of a queen. You are bearing the weight of the crown without its splendour. It is unfair towards you."

"Have you considered that I simply want to spend time with your subjects?" you asked him with a gentle smile. Ever since he sought you out on the cold beach, you've learned that Morpheus cared a lot. Probably more than he himself was capable of understanding. His problem, however, was adequately expressing it. "Treat them as my peers, help them in their plights. You can't be everywhere all the time, Morpheus. Let me help you, just a little."

But he remained unconvinced. "A queen should wear a crown, have the king at her beck and call. The people of the realm shall praise their gods for being allowed in her vicinity." As he spoke, Morpheus reached to gently grab your hand and put it against his chest and though he was a child swearing by their own honesty. His thumb absentmindedly brushed against your skin. "It surely did not escape your attention that I have failed at granting you the honour and glory you deserve."

"The crowns, the dresses, the jewels - they're all very nice but what real difference do they make?" you asked. The question must have elicited some kind of reflection from him as his thumb stopped its soothing movement. "Strip all of that away and there remains only you and I. Believe me when I say, that I need nothing more and wish for nothing less."

His once bleak expression turned into something more gentle as though the yearning of his heart refused to remain hidden any longer. "My heart tells me to drown you in indescribable wealth and yet my mind tells me to let you be as you wish." As it appeared, such dissonance and lack of clarity were exceptionally rare for Morpheus. Gently and somewhat fearfully, he rested his forehead against yours. "How can you, a human, hold so much power over me?" he whispered.

A quiet giggle escaped your mouth. "I believe people refer to it as 'being in love'."

He felt his breath hitch as your lips softly kissed his forehead.

[wheresmymilliondollarman]

hi! still a bit busy, but even tho i’m late i wanted to write a really quick piece in honor of aaron warner’s birthday 🫶 enjoy this drabble (small mature warning for ending)

“c’mon on! we’ve got to celebrate!”

“no, love, it’s not necessary.”

“please.” you tug on the sleeve of aaron’s jacket in a gesture to get him to face you and your puppy dog eyes, one’s you knew he couldn’t resist.

you both were going back and forth on the topic of aaron’s birthday. you were adamant on throwing a small celebration in honor of his 21st. but all aaron wanted to do was nothing, literally. he didn’t even want to acknowledge the day.

so here you both were, on a walk around the park nearest to your place, going back and forth on the decision of how to celebrate aaron’s birthday. but you both now circled your way back to your front door. you were determined to get his permission to plan a party before this walk ended.

aaron sighs, looking ahead then turning his neck down towards you. you can see he’s on the verge of giving in, so you stick your bottom lip out, making a pout.

“alright, fine. if you wish to organize a celebration then i’ll let yo-“

you squeal, cutting him off mid-sentence. a huge grin plasters over your face. you go up on your tippy-toes and plant a quick kiss on his lips.

aaron’s heart warms to see your giddy expression. he would’ve said yes sooner had he known you’d be so excited.

“you won’t regret it. i swear!”

“as long as you’re present my love, i’ll be okay with anything.” aarons says as his hand moves to cup the side of your face.

“great.” you begin, moving your hand to the door knob of the front door. “because i already planned it.”

as soon as your words end, you open the door fully to reveal a crowd of people awaiting in your living room. they all yell out “surprise” as soon as aaron walks into the threshold.

while aaron’s body was unphased, his face gave away how taken aback he was by the sudden revelation.

he shake his head and turn to you with a playful glare, “so you’ve been stalling me this whole time.”

you give him a sheepish look, “i would say sorry, but i’m very happy with how i was able to catch you off guard.”

aaron squints at you and pounces his hands to your side, wiggling his fingers in your most ticklish areas. you squirm in his grip, trying to maneuver a way to freedom, all while laughing hysterically.

his tickle attack comes to a halt, after much of your pleading for him to stop. aaron pulls you into a hug, and you take a moment to catch your breath.

“thank you, angel.” aaron uses a hand to lift your chin up to face him. “for planning this. i adore it.”

“you haven’t even seen the whole party yet.” you counter.

“i don’t need to. the fact you took the time to do this for me is enough to love it.” he responds, looking at you with devoting eyes.

your heart swells with each of his loving words. sometimes it was hard to believe he was anything other than your adoring boyfriend.

“of course. i’d do anything for you, i love you.” you say with sincerity.

“and i love you, my beautiful girl.” he replies.

aaron leaving down to meet his lips with your in a kiss that never fails to make you weak in the knees. it was perfect.

“enough pda, there are children present!” kenji hollers a few feet away.

you break away from the kiss with a laugh while aaron face shifts to the disdain of hearing kenji’s voice.

it was going to be a long night.

-

hours later, when happy birthday has been sung, candles blown, gifts given, and all the guest were on their way to their homes — you and aaron got ready for bed.

aaron already situated himself under the comforter of your shared bed. unbeknownst to him, you were readying one last surprise for the night.

“love, where’d you go-“

“happy birthday dear aaron, happy birthday to you.” you sing the tune to the birthday song as you walk into your bedroom holding a small chocolate frosted cake with wonky letters saying “happy birthday aaron!” & a couple of lighted candles randomly placed. it was very obviously homeade.

aaron grins at your entrance, laughing a bit at your imperfect cake. maybe decorating cales as a job wasn’t in your future, but he loved it anyway.

you bring the cake infront of him, “make a wish!” you encourage aaron.

“how can i, when you’re everything i want and more.” he proclaims.

you roll your eyes, “okay, mr. poet, just blow out your candles before the wax melts in the cake!”

he laughs and does as he’s told, blowing all the fire away in one breathe.

as aaron does so, he gets a look at your attire. you’re wearing a pink babydoll nightgown was lace details. its material is very thin and flowy, allowing him to see your matching lace panties underneath.

aaron warner was hungry for something sweet in front of him, and it wasn’t for the chocolate cake you made.

“hey, love?” he says, grabbing the plate of cake and setting it aside.

“yeah?” you ask with a tilt if the head.

“lay down on the bed and lift your hips for me. i’m gonna unwrap and enjoy my first gift.”

[heyhelloitsmilo]

Mirror, Mirror.

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moon system x gnc/gender neutral reader

word count: 1225 words

=========

‼️ this is based on my own experiences being trans/nb, i don't have bottom dysphoria so like, i don't... i don't reference it in this.

❗️ my spanish isn't very good, i'm still learning so a bit of google translate was used! masculine terms used (1)

✨ might be a little ooc its been a hot minute since i've written a fic! i'm also very sad!

⚠️ warnings: dysphoria, self-misgendering, feminine terms used in reference to reader, reference to scars (via top surgery), pre-transition/pre-hrt, show accurate depiction of DID, petnames used (lovingly)

💛 pairings: marc spector x reader, steven grant x reader, jake lockley x reader, moon system x reader (sorry steven isnt as relevant in this one i promise to make it up later heres an IOU)

💫 summary: dysphoria hits you really hard one evening after your shower and the boys get concerned, remembering your coming out (fluff, comfort)

-----------------------

You gripped the bathroom counter, water dripping from your skull down your skin, glistening in the fluorescent lights, dropping from your wet hair strands. Your eyes were trained on your chest, almost willing the world and the universe to make them stop existing. The subtle whirring of the bathroom fan only made it easier for you to zone out, staring at your body as it slowly dried, imagining a flat chest and scars in place of the things that made you a woman to everyone else.

You didn't even notice the soft knocks on the bathroom door or the quiet, "You a'right in there?" from Steven outside. You just stood there, the bath mat soaked, mind filled with thoughts about how feminine and womanly your body was, skincare routine and hygiene forgotten.

"Hey, if you're not gonna come out, I'm gonna come in there." Marc's words jolted you out of your trance, face whipping to the door, hands grabbing for a towel to cover yourself.

"Wait, wait wait hold on-!"

"Too late." Marc opened the door, looking at you, halfway through covering your body. His eyes darted across your frame, the rest of the bathroom, landing on your eyes. "Good. You're okay. We were getting worried." His voice was gruff, his words revealing how relieved he was. "...Dysphoria get to you?"

You nodded silently, looking away from the man in front of you, fully wrapping yourself in the towel. You felt... ashamed. Ashamed of your body, that is.

Marc and Steven (and by extension, Jake) had known you pre social transition, loved you and dated you before now. And they stayed after the fact, with Jake finally meeting you after then.

You remember when Steven had stayed up all night, researching and reading on transitioning, practicing and mumbling to himself (and the system) to not misgender you. His efforts hadn't been in vain, with all three of them only slipping up a handful of times. And you appreciated them for it.

You remember the day you came out like it was yesterday.

You'd spent the last few weeks in a crisis, researching, hyperfixating about the things you were experiencing, taking 'Are You Gay?' tests online.

---

A knock on the desk jolted you out of your hyperfixation, pulling your attention.

"Hey, baby. About time." Marc pulled up a stool, sitting beside you, taking a quick glance at your laptop. "What's that all about?" He did a vague gesture at your laptop, spying the 'Am I Trans?' quiz open.

"O-oh, nothing, don't worry about it." You quickly closed your tabs, swallowing your saliva. You grimaced at the unconvinced look on Marc's face. "Okay, maybe not nothing."

"Is there something you'd like us to know?"

Marc's words echoed in your ears as you seriously considered his question. You weren't entirely sure how he (let alone Steven) would handle that. But based on his current reaction, he didn't seem all that... surprised? You mean, you'd been a very adamant ally of LGBTQ+ rights, and you'd expressed yourself to potentially be queer, even if you hadn't done any real introspection at that point. But... what if you were faking it? Faking being trans? What if this was all just a phase like so many parents had suggested?

"I mean... maybe. I've been looking into um... potentially being trans." You said softly, the warm light from the lamp gracing yours and Marc's faces. You looked up at Marc, eyes tracing his expression. It didn't look... angry. Or happy. Neutral? Indifferent? Maybe a little confused? His eyes flickered to the window, presumably listening to Steven.

"We love you regardless." Marc spoke finally, leaning in towards you, eye level with you. "We always will." He extended a hand towards you, offering to hold yours. When you put your hand in his, his thumb gently ran across your knuckles, massaging your hand in his. "If you discover that being a man, or being neither a woman or a man, is you, then we'll be right here for you." Marc's voice had a very slight British accent, it seemed Steven was co-conscious, wanting to speak as well.

"I..." You were in a bit of shock. You hadn't really expected anything, but this was simply so warm and comforting that your eyes got misty. "...You really mean that?" You squeezed Marc's (Steven's?) hand gently, tears slowly beginning to well in your eyes.

Marc blinked, his demeanor changing in a split second, nodding quickly. Steven's eyes were soft, his lips curved in a smile. "Really. We always will." His hands held yours so delicately, so lovingly.

"...I think I wanna try using they/them."

"Okay. We can do that for you."

---

Marc walked over, putting his hands on your shoulders, straightening your posture. "Stand up straight. Hold your chin up." You complied, keeping the towel loosely wrapped around your form, looking up at Marc. A soft smile played on Marc's lips, his eyes as he looked at you. "There's my darling. C'mon. Come to bed."

You nodded and hung your towel, walking out of the bathroom with him and into your shared bedroom, getting dressed. Wordlessly, you pulled on a sports bra and a pair of your boxers, as well as one of Marc's shirts (which he scoffed playfully at before gesturing to the bed). You shuffled under the covers, trying to forget about the stretch of elastic cloth around your chest, burying your way into the duvet cover.

"Comfy, cariño?" Jake's voice cut through the silence, getting in bed as well and leaning against the headboard. You nodded, looking up at him from your spot in the blankets, extending your hand towards him, taking his hand in yours. "Bueno." His voice was always softer with you, and though you two usually teased and joked around with each other, he knew better in this moment.

The two of you laid there in bed, Jake stroking your hair as you laid your head in his lap, calloused hands massaging your scalp.

"...Te encuentras mejor?" (Are you feeling better?) Jake asked softly and slowly to allow your mind to process the Spanish, hand twirling your hair between his fingers mindlessly.

You nodded, fiddling with the seams on Jake's pants to keep your hands occupied. "Yeah. Thanks guys." The soft fabric of Jake's sweatpants definitely weren't clothes he would typically wear, but there really wasn't time for an outfit change, not when cuddles were involved. You certainly weren't complaining.

"Hey, amor, lean up a minute so I can lie down." You complied, scooting your body off Jake's lap, watching him shuffle down, lying next to you. The two of you looked into each other's eyes, not speaking, before Jake suddenly scooped your body toward's him, wrapping his arms around your waist. "Gotcha." He fluttered soft kisses to your neck and jawline, chuckling as you giggled and squirmed. The kiss-tickle torment ended after a few long moments, Jake just trying to keep the dysphoria off your mind, Marc and Steven watching the both of you.

You wrapped an arm around Jake's waist, not bothering to finagle your other arm under him to properly hold him. You just relaxed in his arms, his hands against the small of your back, rubbing small circles into you. "This is nice." You sighed softly, nestling your face into Jake's chest.

"It really is, amor."

=========

masterlist/intro

=========

lets say i mightve been projecting a little

hope you enjoyed!

- milo 💛

[shytastemakerthing]

Hello, this is my first ask on tumblr (tho i've been lurking for a while) and I want to ask for a romantic and platonic Obey Me matchup!

I'm outwardly quite quiet and reserved and stone faced when around strangers, but when i get more comfortable I get loud and animated (and I have trouble controlling my volume generally). I'm an optimistic and energetic personality who often jokes around but doesn't really understand if other people make not-so-obvious jokes or sacastic remarks that fly over my head. I love immersing myself into fantasy worlds and writing about these same worlds, and I have been a cosplayer for abooout I think six years now?? And as you might guess from that, I love anime.

I'm currently studying sewing to become a custom tailor (so basically making tailored clothes from scratch) and I'd love to make clothes for any of the brothers! I love all kind of crafts, games and tinkering I can do with my hands. I also LOVE music and singing, since its easy to get lost in, and it expresses and identifies my feelings and emotions in more easy terms since I have trouble doing that myself. I can also play bass and a little bit of guitar.

Thank you already, hope you have a great day! 💕

A/N: Thank you so much for your ask! I'm so sorry it's taken me this long to get this out to you, but I think this Flu is finally making is way out (I can finally breathe again xD)! For this, the romantic headcanon will be first and the platonic will be second!

P.S. I was also a lurker on this sight before doing ANYTHING. I've had this account for almost 6 years and have only been doing actual posts for maybe the past couple months xD

Now, onto the matchups! Our romantic runnerups would include the following, Mammon and Asmo!

I match you with........

Leviathan

• This shy dweeb overhears you talking about a rather popular series from the human realm one day when the everyone was at the table for dinner and the next thing you know, Mammon is shoved from your side and Levi has taken his place and is ADAMANT on figuring out everything there is to know on this series.

• So, he had been watching you for a little while now. Not simply because of the pact you managed to get him into. There was something he coukdnt quite placed his finger on. You were so stone faced around basically everyone but as soon as you were in the company of him or one of his brothers, it was a completely different story.

• We all know that this boy is a shut in in every sense of the word (reminds me of another certain Otaku boy), so this means that you've most likely made the first step, romantically wise. He already put in quite the effort the first time he officially spoke to you on his own accord at the table..... in front of everyone. He'd rather not relive that. Perhaps his favorite snacks and a TSL marathon to help ease into all of this before the big confession.

• Speaking of confession, this man is a fumbling mess as soon as those words come from you and Levi swears he is fifty shades of red right now. You can't just come in like that with a sneak attack with a crucial HP hit when he's vulnerable like that! Now stop laughing and give him cuddles.

• The man is low key touch starved, given we see how he holes himself up on his room all of the time and has rather limited interactions with basically anyone and everyone. He will be a stuttering and red mess for the first little while before he's finally used to it. And once he's used to it? Oh boy, you better be prepared. He wants all of your attention with him and only him. Now, this is also stemming from his envy. After all, he is the avatar of envy and this is something that he feels on a daily basis, at varying levels. It's not like he can fully help it, but this is also something you understand, which he is eternally grateful for.

• Cosplay! We have seen him cosplay as Ruri-Chan and this means that you can both cosplay together! The fact that you can even make your own outfits is something at astounds him every time he sees it. You can bet he will spoil you and buy you more supplies when needed. And you can also bet that he will have a whole list of people he wants to see you cosplay as, and maybe take pictures as well, but only if it's okay with you!

• Make. Him. Something! You make him something and now it is his new prized possession! Carrying it around with him, wearing it all the time, your scent calms him and its even better because you took the time to make something for him BY HAND. He's a happy boi in love.

• Seeing you singing and how immersed you get into music and your own world is something that has him watching you with stars in his eyes. No matter what it is that you do, he could just watch and listen to you for hours on end (in a non creepy way), any maybe he will ask you to sing something soft for him to sleep too........ (this man is a simp).

• Overall, even his brothers can see the literal match made in..... Devildom. The both of you are beyond happy with one another and are supportive of everything that each of you do. You're his Henry. And you always will be.

I match you with........

Mammon

• Long story short, this man is your ride or die pal. Besties, pals, partners in crime, the whole nine yards. Usually when the born of you are around one another, there tends to be chaos. Especially given the personalities between the two of you? Poor Luci is at his wits end.

• While he may not be dating you (he really is happy for Levi. Little bro finally has someone xD), he is your first and he will let everyone know that! You two are thicker than thieves and have been since day one. All those words of his were just for show, he couldn't risk the great Mammon looking weak for anybody!

• If you thought Levi spoiled you, prepare for more of it! Also, it's a part of his Greed, so a lot of this he also can't help. But he just keeps buying and buying and buying you more things. More than you may know what to do with. It's a habit at this point.

• He rather enjoys listening you play guitar. After a long and tiring day, if he actually does any work, then he comes over to your room, and you both casually chill, him scrolling on his DDD and you strumming away. He has fallen asleep many times like this (you have many photos, much to his dismay).

• He loves if you make him something! He may be a little greedy and ask for more, because who can say no to their best friend?! And he also likes to flaunt it xD

• Overall, the two of you are quite the dynamic duo within the HoL. Chaos follows the both of you around, Luci is pulling his hair, Levi finds it a bit amusing even if just slightly (a lot) jealous of how often Mammom hangs around you, and then Satan and Belphie laughing at poor Luci's braincells fading away each second he sees the two of you.

[adammilligan]

none of you understand how obsessed i am with adam picking up habits in his grief in postcanon. like maybe michael never really cared much for life on earth but he had a little fondness for birds or something and he'd watch them sometimes in the moments where he and adam weren't talking. and so now whenever adam sees a bird or a flock of birds he taps his finger twice against the nearest surface. maybe it's a countertop maybe it's a wall maybe it's his knee. but it's two taps. two syllables. like mich-ael. and he doesn't do anything outside of that! he goes on with his day and eventually it becomes so ingrained in him that he does it without even thinking. he even keeps doing it when michael comes back and he never even notices himself doing it anymore. but it stemmed from a place of grief which stemmed from a place of love

[extravaguk]

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

wordcount: 15k

genre: summer!au, ex high school classmaters, kinda frenemies to lovers, tattoo artist!&piercing artist!jungkook, popular!reader

rated: m (fluff - smut - angst)

warnings: you broke jungkook's heart you bitch!! , oral sex (m&f), protected sex (shocking tbh), CL as your bestie it doesnt get better than that! idk i dont wanna spoil too much

author's note: fucking finally dude!! i've been writing this since february but school was kicking my ass. now that i finished my exams and mercury is in gemini i was able to finish it. if you read this, i hope you enjoy it!

Inkphoria

You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping the flyer too tightly, rumpling the paper in your hand until you're pretty much sure it's ruined. It's the first day of June, and it's already too hot. The sun and humid weather are causing beads of sweat to form in your hairline and your white tank top to stick to your skin. Your jean shorts didn't feel this uncomfortable a few hours ago and you're sure the heat is causing your mascara to transfer to your eyelids and lower lashline. You've never needed a slushie and a smoke this bad in forever, even if you knew the later would make your parents lose their shit.

Inkphoria

You read it again. Your brain is trying to guess what font its written in, an excuse to try to steady your heart beat until your nerves ease a little and you can finally gather the courage to step into the damn shop. You've noticed a few people passing by giving you strange looks because maybe it hasn't been fifteen minutes. Perhaps you've been unmoving like an idiot in the middle of the street for longer than you want to admit.

Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.

'Its not that much of a big deal. It's not even that painful, trust me.'

You wish you could trust your best friend, but your best friend is also the same woman who assured you Cats was the movie of the year. Yes, not 'Cats: The Musical'. 'Cats', the movie.

'And this could be a great start to get out of your comfort zone and start living your life exactly the way you want to, not the way people expect you to. Not the way your family wants you to, not the way Adam wanted you to.'

But although her credibility could sometimes be questionable - like that time she also told you she'd tried marmite and 'honestly, it's not as bad as people make it out to be'-, you also didn't trust anybody in this world as much as you trusted her. She had always been your entire support system, the only one around you who never sugarcoated, who always treated you as an equal, who was always there for you to help you discover yourself and, at the same time, remind you of who you were.

'And it's gonna look so hot, too.'

That's it. Sticking the wrinkled flyer on your back pocket, your feet finally start moving. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing open the door.

The first thing you notice is that, thankfully, the shop is empty. The second thing you notice is the bright sky blue walls, a green undertone peaking through. Your eyes scan nervously the interior. Frames with tattoo designs and people modeling other different designs decorate the walls, some skateboards also hanging from the ceiling. A few plants in the corner, and two leather couches on either side of the room. Your scanning stops on the counter, where a girl with short, platinium hair and -what you guess is- the eighty percent of her body inked. Face included. She's been looking at you, a smirk tugging at her lips. Her tone is amused when she speaks

"Hi." she says. "You can come closer, you know? We don't bite."

Great. As if you couldn't feel more out of place, apparently you also couldn't look more out of place.

"Sorry." you gulp as you walk forward. "It's my first time doing anything like this."

She laughs this time, but it's not mean. It's not mocking, thank God, and the smile she sends you is as warm as the weather, friendly, luckily helping you calm down a bit. "A virgin, huh? JK's gonna love this." your eyes jump in surprise, but she's fast to wave her hands in front of you. "Just a joke. So, first time getting a tattoo. You have something in mind, honey?"

"Um, no. Not a tattoo. Not yet, I think." you wet your lips, regretting not reaplying chapstick before stepping inside. "A piercing."

"Oh! Cool!" she claps her hands, too excited for your own taste, pulling from under the counter a catalogue. "So, where will it be? Cartilogue? Nose? A lot of people are getting their septums pierced right now, though, so you might-"

"Nipples. Like, one of them."

Her gaze finds yours in surprise, although her face swiftly transforms again into an amiable expression. "Now, that's badass. Alright!" she skims through the pages of the catalogue until she finds the nipple piercing collection. You scratch your head before wiping your forehead sweat-free. "You can pick either barbells or hoops, although barbells heal faster and they don't move around as much. There's different kinds of metal, too. Gold or platinium. If your skin is sensitive, I recommend titanium. It's hypoallergenic and not as problematic."

The blonde keeps talking as you nod your head, a smile making its way into your face while silently thanking her for her easygoing personality. It quickly makes you feel comfortable and stupid for being so terrified of doing this.

Once you decide, settle on the cost and sign the papers, she stands up from the stool she'd been sitting on. "Ok, I'll go tell my coworker. He's been sketching tattoos all morning, it's time he gets to work!" she laughs, but suddenly your smile banishes and your throat shuts down.

"He?" your alarmed tone halts her motions and she looks back at your frightened expression.

He? A he is going to pierce your nipple? You're about to let a random stranger, a HE, see and touch one of your boobs and then pierce a needle through one of your nipples?

"Oh, baby, don't worry. I'd do it myself if I knew how to, but I only do tattoos. Most of our staff are on summer vacation so it's mostly just him and I. If you don't feel comfortable, which is totally understandable, you can wait until september when Minzy comes back and she can do it for you." It's her turn to scratch the back of her head as she adds: "but trust me, we're professionals. He's not a creep or anything like that. He's been doing this for a long time. He won't cross any boundaries."

September? You won't even be here in september. Fuck.

Sure, you could do it when you move back into the city. But this summer was supossed to be the summer. You already decided after your breakup with Adam that there would be no trace of the old you. That it was time to push yourself, to do the things that you've always wanted to do, unapologetically. To find the new you, the real you. To stop being scared.

So after going through you options for a few seconds and taking a deep breath, you make up your mind.

"It's fine. I can do it."

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"JK, sweetheart!"

Jungkook is finishing drawing a Chinese dragon when Mijoo opens the door without knocking. Again. He puts the pen down, rubbing his eyes. It's monday, a slow monday, not much work, and he had hoped it would stay that way until closing time. It's summer and Jungkook hates summer. He hates the heat, he hates being drenched in sweat, and he hates the fact that he can do nothing about it. Because working in the summer is terrible. Summer makes him lazy, makes him want to bathe in a tub full of iced water and not get out until he turns into a raisin and october comes. It makes him irritable. Summer makes him annoyed by people -like Mijoo, even if he loves her to death- and himself.

"I got a girl here who wants a nipple piercing, her first piercing by the way, so get your shit ready and bla bla bla. Straight titanium barbell. Also, don't flirt and don't be creepy. She almost ran away when I told her a male was going to be touching and piercing her tit, be mindful of that. She's too cute, if you want to get her number you should wait until it's done. I think that's it. I'll bring her in in a minute."

Mijoo leaves as fast as she talks, but Jungkook is already used to it. He's already used to the headaches her mouth causes too. He sighs before standing up, tying his too-long raven hair into the best bun he can manage. He washes his hands, sets the table up, sits on the chair and puts the gloves on. He's too busy sterilizing the jewerly when Mijoo comes back with you.

"Alright, my babies. I'll leave you to it." she turns to you. "He'll explain everything, from how the process will be to how to take care of it after it's done." she leaves before saying bye, closing the door behind her, and then he finally turns to you.

Your eyes meet and suddenly everything stops. He almost drops the sterilizing machine, his whole body tensing, going into panic mode as he recognizes you immediatly. His hands shake.

Of course he does. Of course he recognizes his high school crush. The too goody two shoes, too pretentious and too rich, too good for everybody and, most importantly, 'too good for Jeon Jungkook' girl of his high school dreams. Of course he recognizes the girl he had confessed his stupid crush to when he was sixteen. Of course he recognizes the girl who rejected and broke his young and foolish heart when he was a dumb teenager.

It doesn't matter that six years have passed ever since. He still knows every lock of your hair like the palm of his hand. He still remembers the shape of your lips and the exact shade of your eyes. He can still identify the body he fantasized about -and jacked off to- when he was a hormonal teen, now filled in all the right places. Now a grown woman.

Just one look at you after years and years of pining is enough to almost make him faint. And grow a boner under his jeans.

And by the look on your face, your eyes wide and your mouth agape, you recognize him as well.

Dammit.

He schools his features and clears his throat. Forces his body to relax and compose himself, because he's not a teenager anymore. He's also a grown man, who has matured, who now has much more experience with women than he did back then. He had already embarrased himself enough when he was sixteen to be doing it all over again. You're just another attractive girl in a sea of attractive women.

He turns to you. You still haven't said anything. Neither has he.

"Um, you can sit on the table." he manages, motioning to the set up in front of him. He watches you taking doubtful steps until you're sitting down, your eyes avoiding his gaze. He almost forgot you were here to get pierced. Holy shit, you were here to get pierced. To get your nipple pierced.

You're a professional, Jungkook. You can do this, Jungkook. You've seen boobs before, Jungkook. You've pierced nipples before, Jungkook.

Clearing his throat again and forcing his hands to stay by his side, he speaks. "The... The top." your gaze finds his, like a puppy about to get scolded. You look at your top, realization dawning on you. "You don't have to take it off. You can just pull it down."

So you do, pulling the straps of the white tank top down and dragging the fabric down with trembling fingers. No bra. Jungkook gulps as your breasts comes into vision. As perfect as he had imagined years ago. His cock twitches. Round, full, perky and so damn inviting he has to hold himself back from latching onto one nipple with his mouth around it and swirling his tongue over the nub until you're a pretty, moaning, little mess on his piercing tabl-

He closes his eyes for just a second before reminding himself to act like the 23 year old Jungkook he's tried so hard to become. The confident, assured Jungkook he is.

"Okay, this is how it'll go. First I'll clean it and scrub it to get rid of any bacteria." he's so glad he hasn't stuttered yet. 23 year old Jungkook doesn't stutter like 17 year old Jungkook. He's also glad he can pick the alcohol bottle and the surgical scrub without trembling. When he faces you again, you're watching his motions with your lip caught between your teeth. That has him swallowing the lump in his throat.

Making eye contact with him again, you take a deep breath and offer a small nod, so he gets to work. He can show you and himself he's a grown man. A grown man who can pierce a nipple without appearing like it's the first time he's seen a boob in his life. The sooner he does it, the sooner it's over.

Jungkook wets the paper towel with alcohol before carefully wiping over your nub with it. Your back arches, probably from the cold feeling, he guesses. He rubs it a few times before throwing it in the trash can nearby. He avoids looking at how enticing the soft peak is salluting him when he reaches for the marker. He doesn't say anything when he dots it with it, jaw clenched and his dick painfully stiff.

"Lay back." his voice low as he commands, turning away to get the clamp. When he slides closer, he tries to ignore the view: you, with your hair sprawled and your sweaty, shiny skin and your eyes focused on the cieling, nipple fully erect, like the star of one of his most erotic dreams. He extends his free gloved hand before he can stop himself, fingers carefully working the nub until he's sure it's painfully hard. Almost as hard as he is.

You gasp, your back arching again. He stills and looks at you, your cheeks flushed pink. Probably from the heat, he guesses again. Or at least that's what he tells himself. He can't stop himself from wondering how responsive would you be in a different setting, most likely his bed while his teeth play with your breast and his cock dives into-

"You okay?" he studies your face, your eyes not meeting his and instead still focusing on the white ceiling.

"Mhm." you reply with a small voice.

"Relax, alright? It'll be over soon." his voice is as gentle as he can, his fingers mindlessly caressing your breast to try to soothe your nerves. Or maybe it's just because he's a selfish bastard. Whatever it is, he forces himself to bring the clamp to your nipple, securing it around it.

"Take a few deep breaths. This will only take a second of pain and then it will go away." He misses the way your mouth falls open, but he doesn't miss the way your eyes squeeze tight as the needle goes in.

"Ah!" he definitely doesn't miss that either. He goes rigid for a second, because that didn't fucking sound like a cry of painfulness. It's breathy, and whiny, not too loud and, for fucks sake, if that's how you sound when you're getting fucked, he swears to God-

He feels your heartbeat under his hands when he puts the barbell in and then the bandage over it. He takes a look at you, chest moving up and down. And then you take a look at him and what he sees is almost enough to take you right there.

Reddened cheeks, drops of sweat framing your face and those eyes glazed with something he's seen too much in the women he's fucked throughout his life. They're half lidded, mascara adorning your long lashes and almost smudged, looking right through him.

"Jungkook..." and your voice, as you say his name -acknowledging him for the first time since you stepped into his shop, for the first time since you were sixteen-, it's hoarse, almost inaudible, like you just came all over his-

He's on his feet in an instant like he's been burned. "It may bleed for the first week, and it can be really sore. The swelling will eventually come down." he's quickly tidying up the table, a bottle in his hand that he hands to you without looking directly. "Wash it gently with this soap and warm water once per day. Don't touch it. Wear a comfortable...bra. If it gets crusty, clean it with saline. Not alcohol or any other thing you might clean a wound with. The soap I just gave you or saline. Nothing else."

He's pacing around the room as he takes his gloves off and throws them in the trash bin, too agressively maybe, then he keeps rambling, like he's hurriedly trying to make you leave as soon as possible. "Avoid pools and the sea. It takes about six months to a year to heal, so don't... don't touch it, don't play with it or..." he clears his throat, "don't let anyone else play with it. And if it gets infected, come back immediately and I'll take a look at it." which he honestly hopes it won't happen. When he faces you, your top is back on and you're getting off the table.

"Alright, um...I'll do that." clearing your throat, your hand gripping the doorknob. "Thank you."

But right before you can exit the room, Jungkook says your name.

"_____." when you turn around to face him, it takes a few seconds for him to make eye contact from across the room. "It was good to see you."

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"Let me see!"

It's the first thing Chaelin says when she opens the door to her appartment. It's on the second floor, small enough to compare it to most expensive appartments you'd stayed in throughout your life, but big enough for Chaelin, her cat and her -impressive- collection of acrylic nail kits and pairs of high heels. It's also big enough for her to offer you the only guest room until summer is over so you didn't have to, one, stay at your parents' place, and two, find an appartment in a short period of time for a short period of time.

When you left years ago, you did so with the thought of 'never looking back'. You never really expected to return here, of all places. Maybe visit your best friend for a weekend at most, have dinner with your parents on a saturday and then go back to the new life you'd made for yourself on a sunday.

But that was before you'd caught Adam cheating.

Tale as old as time: childhood sweethearts get engaged, move in together, son of a bitch sleeps with the assistand he told his girlfriend not to worry about, and then the brokenhearted girl packs her bags and leaves the cheating bastard begging for her to come back.

You'd be lying if you said you were surprised.

Throughout your life, you'd learned to expect many things, regardless of being sheltered and babied by your family since you were born. Watched too much Maury and Dr.Phil. Too much Gossip Girl to know what the deal with life really is.

So, thankfully, you'd only shed a few tears, mostly because your ego and self steem were slightly triggered. You'd realize long before that your feelings for Adam started to disappear once he popped the question and you said yes. Your love story began as teenagers but soon after graduating, the two of you went on different paths: you'd matured, grown into your twenties while he got stuck at 17 and never stopped acting as such.

So yeah, whatever, break ups are hard. But they're not as hard when the love is gone and the sole reason to stay with your partner is to please your parents. You were also right when you expected your mom to tell you to 'forgive and forget' because 'those things just happen, it's not a big deal, honey'.

But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

The lanky nerd with braces, glasses and an anime obsession much bigger than his hentai obsession, which is saying a lot. The shy, awkward classmate who'd stuttered his undying crush for you when you were just kids. That one who you had rudely rejected like the bitch you used to be in high school.

But my God, Jeon Jungkook was anything but a kid now.

You were shocked. You were gagged. Couldn't seem to fathom what was happening and what your eyes were seeing. It took you a while to close your mouth when you realized JK was Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

With messy black hair, a smoldering gaze free of glasses, piercings adorning both ears, and his right eyebrow,, the braces long gone showing perfectly straight - but still bunny like- teeth. The clothes he wore were loose, all black, but it was impossible not to notice the muscles of his back and arms, covered with tattoos from his hands to his forearms. You'd bet there were more of them underneath the fabric.

It was awkward at first. You didn't know what to do, or what to say. Didn't know if he rememberd you. So you chose to stay quiet while your body chose to react like it had never been in the presence of an attractive young man in it's entire life.

And oh, did it react.

He was reluctant, his old timid demeanor peeking through his newly adopted persona. But as soon as those hands came in contact with your skin, your whole body was lit on fire. Like you were 16 and losing your virginity over again and it was the first time a dude touched your boobs.

There shouldn't have been anything erotic about it -besides the fact that your entire breasts were exposed-, it should've been just a professional procedure. But those gloved fingers touched and pinched and suddenly you were too aware of Jeon Jungkook and the way you were starting to sweat profously, not due to the heat of the season.

You tried to distract yourself by looking at the cieling and not at his gorgeous face. Tried to avoid thinking about Jeon Jungkook and how his mouth would feel wrapped around you. Tried not to think about the way your panties were a second skin to your folds, and how tempted you were to grind your hips until you recieved some sort of friction with the jean fabric of your shorts. You wonder if he noticed you squeezing your thighs together. You hope not.

And then the needle happened. You never thought of yourself as a particularly kinky person. Sex with Adam was boring for the most part and you'd lost your libido for a long time. Stopped thinking about sex altogether. But the pain. The pain mixed with his hand rubbing soothing circles on your breast and his voice, as sweet as honey, guiding you through it. It made you reconsider a lot of things you'd once dismissed as 'weird' or 'deviant'

You swear you almost came right on his table.

And then your eyes connected, you made the mistake of calling his name like a satisfied woman who still needed more, and it was all gone. He stood up like a scared cat, gave you a bunch of explanations about the aftercare that you barely grasped without even looking at you and pretty much rushed you to leave.

So you walked, all the way from the tattoo parlor to Chaelin's appartment, mortified, and completely humilliated.

"Are you gonna let me see or not?" your friend says expectantly as you finally sit down after chugging a glass of iced water. You sigh, placing the glass on the table before carefully pulling down your top. "Oh my God, it looks so cool!" she gasps and you can't help a smile while she studies it in amazement. "Did it hurt?"

"Um, I guess." you keep out the part where you almost orgasmed, obviously, stopping her hand from touching when she reaches towards you. "Wait, no. He said something about not touching it for like six months or a year, I don't remember."

At that, Chaelin's eyebrows quirk up. "He? It was a he? Was he cute, at least?"

"You won't believe this..." looking away for a few seconds, you take a deep breath. "It was Jeon Jungkook."

There's a pause, a silence that fills the room when Chaelin's jaw drops. "Jeon Jungkook...pierced your nipple?"

You close your eyes, bracing yourself for what you're a hundred percent sure is coming.

"Ha..." there it is. "Ha ha..." you still know there's more. "Ha ha ha..."

Chaelin laughs hysterically for about God knows how long, while you keep drinking your glass of water unfaced, your mind drifting back to Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie, his tattoos and his stupid gloved hands.

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You know he's here.

Everything was cool, you were doing alright, having a great time with your vodka sprite in hand and your cute white bikini on. Chaelin was by your side, the guys were excited to have you back and thankfully, you'd avoided most questions about Adam and they'd avoided digging too deep into the topic. You'd sunbathed the whole afternoon, kept away from the water like he'd told you and ate the Hawaiian pizza Yoongi insisted on ordering despite Namjoon's and Jimin's complaints.

It's at night, when you're a little tipsy and your cheeks are flushed, that you feel it. You'd barely noticed Taehyung disappearing to let in a new guest.

You don't see him, but you feel him.

You're sitting on the pool tile steps, legs dangling and the water baely reaching your belly to make sure it doesn't touch your very sensitive and newly pierced nipple. Your back is facing the sliding glass doors of Hoseok's house, but the moment you hear his voice, smooth but animated as he converses with Taehyung, your body wakes up immediately, back straightening, goosebumps forming on your arms and nipples tightening against the fabric of your two piece.

You don't turn around, instead opting for downing the remaining of your drink and coming to the realization that, of course, Taehyung, social butterfly who'd always got along with everybody and remained friends with most people from high school, still keeps in touch with Jungkook.

You ignore him when he enters the pool, still peering from the corner of your eyes while pretending to be engaged in Chaelin's and Jihyo's conversation. Your mind sabotages you by taking you to that day a week ago at the tattoo parlor.

To the warmth of his hand, to the few strands of hair that his small ponytail couldn't keep together, to the way his eyes focused on such an intimate part of your body, to the endless ink decorating his skin, to-

Great. Now your bottoms are wet and not due to the water.

You don't miss Chaelin supressing a laugh and her not so subtle elbowing. You glance at her in warning and try to keep calm for the next fifteen minutes until Jin proposes moving to the living room to watch a movie.

"I'm gonna stay here for a little longer, guys." you say, after clearing your throat. You needed some time to gather yourself before being in a confined space with Jungkook.

"Are you sure?" Jin stops by your side to place a hand on your shoulder as everybody starts exiting the pool. "It's Mean Girls! You love Mean Girls! You never miss a minute of Mean Girls!"

Rolling your eyes, you wave him dismissively. "I know every dialogue on Mean Girls like the back of my hand, I think I'll be alright, Jin."

When everybody finally leaves, you take a deep breath, covering your face with your hands in an attempt to get him out of your head. Damn Jeon Jungkook and his irresisitble glow up.

"You okay?"

The unexpected voice startles you, a gasp finding its way out of your mouth and causing you to jump on your seat, heartbeat erratic as you instantly recognize who it belongs to. Your hand grasps your chest as if that would do anything to protect yourself against him.

"Shit, don't do that!" you say, the words almost getting stuck in your throat as you see him approaching you, still submerged in the pool. The more he nears you, the less water depth there is and the more visible his torso comes into view. Wich was exactly what you'd been avoiding.

Because Jeon Jungkook was ripped, as you'd imagined when you first encountered him.

Broad shoulders and strong biceps and chiseled abs and veiny forearms. Drenched hair, a full sleeve of tattoos and water dripping from delicious tan skin and all just so very hard. That paired up with a loopsided smile that does nothing but make you shudder.

"Sorry." he doesn't sound apologetic at all when he says that, the smirk adorning his features telling. "You just seemed a little off." you advert your gaze when he pushes his hair back.

"I'm fine, just...just wanted to be by myself."

"Oh" Jungkook's smile disappears. "I can leave, if you want me t-"

"No!" you're not sure where that comes from and neither does he, judging by the look on his face when your eyes find his. Eyebrows raised and mouth slightly parted, he's as surprised as you and there's an awkward silence for a few seconds. "Um, you don't have to. I mean, it's not my house, you can do whatever you want." you sniff and tame your voice, trying to seem cool and collected like you didn't just practically beg him not to go.

Ironic, considering this was exactly what you had been fearing for the past thirty minutes.

And then he smiles. A knowing smile. A smile that says 'you just totally checked me out and now you don't want me to leave'. A smile that you would have never associated with Jeon Jungkook of all people years ago. A smile that makes you want to look away but still keeps you in place.

"Sure." he says, closing the space between the two of you slowly but still leaving enough distance. "So, how's it going?"

You clear your throat, head high and determined not to let this man, or any man for that matter, turn you into a trembling mess. You're still you and you're not easily shaken by the opposite sex. Or at least that's what you helplessly chant in your head.

"Everything's cool. I'm on summer vacation now," a little white lie, "so I decided to-"

"The piercing." he says, the smile never leaving his face. "I meant how's the piercing."

"The pier- right." you almost miss the step he takes forward, all too aware of his height over yours but thankful for the centimeters that being propped on the stairs added to yours. "It's-" you almost, almost miss his knee touching your knee and him slightly separating your legs with his own inch by inch. Or how your thighs open unvoluntarely to welcome him in and how you can barely find coherent words to speak. "It's doing-" or the way his smile disappears and is instead focusing his dark stare fully onto yours.

"It's doing well." you finally say in a whisper, not being able to bring yourself to be louder.

He hums. "May I see it?" Jungkook wets his lips with the tip of his tongue and the action and his voice is enough to make you nod your head, bewitched.

His movements are unhurried, his hand coming up to tentatively come in contact with the flesh of your clavicle. His fingers skim through your skin upwards, his touch is feather-like when it wraps around your throat. You pant, and he stops but he doesn't move away, his eyes still focused on yours, studying you, daring you to pull back, to tell him to back off. But just a simple touch of his and you're fully under his control. It reminds you too much of the day you got that damn piercing.

Your lips are parted and for a moment he stays just like that. His body so close to yours but not close enough, and his hand slightly gripping your neck. Your pussy clenches around nothing and you can't wrap your head around the fact that something so simple sets your entire being alive and leaves you aching.

Then, as slow as he started, his hand travels from the front of your neck to the back, pushing your hair aside to carefully untie the straps of your bikini. He breathes through his nostrils, doesn't make a sound. He seems so collected it's starting to annoy you.

Instead, your breathing is ragged when the top falls down, exposing both your breasts to him. That's when he removes his eyes from yours and his jaw clenches. Your nipples perk up under his gaze, like they remember him and the effect he had on them just a week ago. You're at least glad you're not the only one affected but he seems to be a master at keeping it under wraps.

Then, his hand moves again, leaving goosebumps on your skin as it goes south. Jungkook takes his time, so deliberate you want to scream, until he's cupping your pierced breast, keeping away from the nipple just like he'd advised you a few days prior. You can't look away from his face, from his eyes observing you like you're a full course meal and he's been starving for days. You feel drops of water falling from his hair to your thighs, his thumb caressing your skin so delicately as it faintly nears your still tender nipple. Just nearing it, never touching it.

"Beautiful." his murmur is almost imperceptible and for a moment you think you've imagined it. Your back arches on its own, breast pushed against the palm of his hand, almost like your body is begging him to come closer, to touch you more, to feel you all over. He meets your eyes briefly, gauging your reaction, before going back to your chest. Suddenly, the grip on your breast tightens, fingers ever so softly squeezing your flesh. From your throat comes a mewl, your eyes shut and your legs close around his waist.

"Jungkook, please..." you whisper when you open your eyes. He looks at you, unvertainty written all over his face, lips bruised as if he had been biting on them too hard, gaze as glassy as yours. And just like that, the spell is broken. He blinks and his expression changes completely. Lips forming a straight line and jaw tight. His hand retracts, fixing your bikini top over your breasts before tying it around your neck like it originally was. Meanwhile your eyebrows crunch in confusion. But when you're about to start asking questions, he clears his throat.

"It's healing okay." he steps back, avoiding your eyes. "I'll see you inside."

Jungkook leaves the pool like nothing happened.

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Jungkook is fiddling, fixing the position of his glasses and combing through his straight hair with shaky hands, habits he's tried so hard to get rid of in his sixteen years of existence but still finds impossible to.

He can't help it. He's always been like this: the quiet and awkward kid in class who sits in the back, a misunderstood puppy in a sea of stronger dog breeds that could eat him alive. An outcast. Too geeky for his own good. Notebokes full of Dragon Ball doodles on the margins of the pages, the shelves in his room stacked with Marvel figurines, and a closet filled with outdated clothes that he has been inheriting from his older brother.

He has never been the type to stand out, always being overlooked by people like he's invisible. He doesn't mind though. He'd much rather be ignored than getting picked on by bullies like he used to in elementary school.

He never gets invited to parties. Ever. He's a nobody who barely speaks, and when he does he either stutters or manages to embarrass himself in one way or another. He's seen the look on people's faces when they look at him. Their eyes seem to scream 'weirdo' everytime he gets acknowledged.

So obviously the only reason he was invited to this particular party had a first and last name: Kim Taehyung. The only kid in Jungkook's entire life who didn't look at him in a funny way, the only kid who took the time to entangle in a random conversation with him after class and who seemed geniune enough to make Jungkook feel comfortable.

He's not sure how it happened, since Taehyung mostly hangs out with the cool kids. But somehow it did, and now Jungkook is uncomfortably standing in a living room full of drunk teens, looking directly at you.

You, the one girl Jungkook had been pining on for God knows how long. You, who are obviously too pretty, too popular, and way out of his league. You, with your plaid skirt and your polo shirt and those legs that never seem to end. You, who are sitting with your friends in a couch, drink in hand and visibly tipsy. And yet, he doesn't think he's ever seen anyone pull of the 'drunk-rosy-cheek' look better than you.

He can hear your laugh through the music and he already thinks it sounds better than whoever is playing in the background.

"Come on, Gukkie! Her friends are leaving and she's all by herself now! It's your chance" Taehyung's obviously drunk too because it took Jungkook a while to decypher his exact words. He'd disappeared for a while and now that he's back, he's pushing Jungkook in your direction.

"This was a mistake, Taehyung." Jungkook shakes his hair and steps back, quickly glancing at the front door to prepare his escape. But his new friend's grip on his hoodie keeps him in place.

"Guk, listen. The only thing you have to do, is walk up to her, and say 'hey I think you're, like, really pretty. Just letting you know. Bye!' That's it. Jung- Dude, Guk, seriously, look at me." Taehyung grabs Jungkook's cheeks, squishing them between his hands and forceing him to face him. "You've been crushing hard on her for years, my man. We're graduating and you won't see each other again. What's the worst thing that can happen? Getting rejected?"

Jungkook's eyebrows draw together. "Um, yeah?"

"Exactly! Getting rejected is not the end of the world, bro! It just means keep trying on other girls!" Taehyung releases his hold on Jungkook's cheeks. "I just think you're going to regret not telling your crush she's your crush. Who knows? Maybe in the future you two will get married."

Jungkook snickers, muttering a 'yeah right' under his breath. Still, he can't help the smile that Taehyung's words always seem to pull out of him.

"Now," Taehyung playfully slaps Jungkook before turning him in your direction again. "Go get 'em, tiger!"

"Okay," Mijoo's voice slices through Jungkook's memories. She's sitting on Jungkook's desk, munching on her brownies and looking at her coworker expectantly. "And then what?"

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, sits back on his chair, already feeling the effects of Mijoo's baked goods. "And then I walked up to her, like a damn fool, stutter and all. And I say:" he clears his throat, making an effort to do his best teenage Gukkie impression."'Hey, _____, um, so, I think you're beautiful and I've had a crush on you since seventh grade, haha, just wanted to let you know.'"

Mijoo rolls her eyes, still chewing. "And then what?"

"And then she looked me up and down, giggled, fucking giggled, Mijoo, and said 'Who are you, again?'" Mijoo gasps and Jungkook closes his eyes, trying to force that recollecion out of his head.

"What a bitch." she can't help but laugh before apologizing. Jungkook merely shrugs his shoulders and takes another bite of his brownie. "She didn't say anything else?"

"She said something along the lines of:" he clears his throat again, this time, doing an impression of you. "'That's sweet and all but, you and I... we're not the same. And I have a boyfriend, so...' She said that like I didn't know, like I wasn't aware of the school's it couple! Like I was dumb!"

Mijoo nods. "And now you want to fuck her even more than you did in high school."

"I- No! Well, yes. Fuck, of course I want to sleep with her! But I just... can't."

"Why not?"

"Did you hear anything about what I just told you or were you too concentrated trying to get high?"

It's Mijoo's turn to roll her eyes. "I heard everything you just told me. I just don't understand what the problem is. You two were sixteen. Sure, she was a bitch about it, but Lord knows I've been a bitch my entire life and now I'm not anymore." Jungkook raises an eyebrow at that. "Okay, sometimes I can be nice. But the point is..." Mijoo finishes her piece of brownie before getting off of Jungkook's desk. "It's been, what? Nine? Ten years? People change, JK. You're the best example of that. You want to fuck her and she obviously wants to fuck you too. You're both adults." she wipes her hands on her shorts. "I think it's time you fulfill that high school fantasy of yours."

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You've made up your mind.

And by you, it means Chaelin has made up your mind.

It didn't take long to convince you though. That last interaction with Jungkook cause too many emotions stirring within you. It left you hot, it left you bothered, it left you confused. Sure, it also left you a little bit embarrassed like the first time, but above everything else, that interaction with Jungkook left you absolutely livid.

Because who the fuck did Jeon Jungkook, formerly known as Guk, Gukkie, Jungukkie, and currently known as JK, think he was to come near you, speed your heart rate's up, and then runaway like that?

You've spent days thinking about it. About that face, about that body, about those hands and- shit. You're doing it again.

You've spent days trying to push those intrusive thoughts. Spent days trying to bury what happened. You've spent days trying to keep quiet, not telling anyone about it and just wishing that stupid spark of desire simply went away.

But it has just been simply unavoidable. You haven't been able to ignore the sleepless nights with your brain drifting back to that night and forbidding your hand from slipping under your panties. Or the excessive amount of time during the day where images of him suddenly popped in your head and wouldn't go away, even with you squeezing your thighs to try to make the ache go away.

So you ended up ranting and ranting and ranting to the only person you could confide on, who is obviously your best friend. Your best friend, who's too smart for her own good and knows you too well for your liking. Because apparently your moodiness and snappy remarks couldn't go unnoticed.

And after explaining the fiasco over a bottle of wine -and minutes of endless laughing on Chaelin's part because, again, it's Gukkie you two were talking about and, according to her, this was "the most karmic thing I've ever seen"-, she gave you the best advice an older sister could ever give.

"Fuck him."

"I know right? Fuck him!"

"No. I mean, fuck him."

And now here you are. Right inside that room you stepped in weeks ago, confronting the man in question with the same confidence that has always distinguished you from others and trying to act like the fluttering inside your belly wasn't nauseauting.

"A date."

"Yes."

"You want to go on a date with me." this wouldn't be so hard if Jungkook didn't look so delectable in a plain white t-shirt and ripped jeans. You cross your arms over your chest, doing your best to not look down at the exposed skin of a man who obviously worked out a lot and apparently, never skipped leg day. "What's the catch?"

He's sitting on his chair, back resting comfortably and legs spread, narrowing his eyes at you and probably wondering why the girl at the front desk let you in without an appointment. Also, probably wondering if there was a catch to all of this.

"There's no catch. I just want to go to the fair this weekend. I'll ask Taehyung for your number and text you the date and the exact place we'll be meeting. Unless..." your quirk one of your eyebrows. "Unless you're already planning on how you'll chicken out this time."

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Of course, Jungkook says yes to going on a date with his high school crush but spends the following days overthinking every single thing.

He can't help but feel like it's kinda sketchy. What if you're planning your vendetta on him? What if you don't even show up and he ends up there looking like a damn idiot? What if you hate him and are just messing up with him? What if that incident in high school is going to repeat itself?

"If she doesn't show up, you simply move on and never speak to her again. It's that simple. She can't have that much power over you to cry about something like that." Mijoo had said that same day she let you in the tattoo parlor after you'd asked to see Jungkook. Jungkook's coworker hadn't even question you and just motioned you to Jungkook's room with a knowing smile on her face. Later that day, Jungkook had scolded her about it and she'd simply shrugged.

He considers cancelling, eyes reading the 'won't be able to make it, sorry (sad face emoji)' over and over again and fingers hovering over the send button so many times he's lost count. But then he remembers that comment of yours about him chickening out and Jungkook starts seeing red.

How couldn't you understand he's just terrified of you rejecting him one more time? Sure, Jungkook is now an adult who doesn't get butthurt over stuff like that. He's experienced too much after graduating from high school and he's a much stronger individual than his fragile self back was back then.

But something about you just makes him feel so... weak.

He still finds it impossible to concieve where he got the courage to approach you like that at Taehyung's pool, or how he brought himself to touch you for longer than a minute without coming in his pants. He'd enjoyed it too much. Allowing him to see you so exposed, just for him. He'd be so tempted to kiss you right there and then, to run his hands up and down your thighs and fully wrap your legs around him to let you known how much you'd affected him. Once you called his name, it was like he'd finally snapped out of it and backed away like he'd been burned by you. He spent the next twenty minutes trying to keep himself from pulling down his pants and jerking off in his friend's bathroom.

It's terrible. Because he feels like the teenager he used to be when you're around. Shy, insecure and overall a mess. You showing up in his life after so many years and now apparenly being interested in him seems like a dream that he's not sure he wants to keep being in or wake up from before it's too late and he falls back into that tumoltuous longing that will inevitably end up in heartbreak. His heartbreak.

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It's saturday night, he's standing by himself in the crowded fair at the spot. You're fifteen minutes late and he's already about to turn back and dip out. He feels too awkward and the nerves are eating him alive.

You're not going to show up. You're not going to show up and now he feels and looks even dumber than the time he told you he was crushing on you. You're not even going to show up and now he's going to come back home, get drunk by himself and curse your name for-

"Hey!" he turns around to the sound of your voice and sees you running towards him. "Sorry I'm late! I couldn't find my phone and spent like thirty minutes looking for it. Turns out, Sharon Stone, was taking a nap on top of it and I didn't even notice."

"Sharon Stone?"

"Chaelin's cat."

To be honest, he's too surprised to process your explanation right away. He might also be a little speechless because that sky blue sundress looks too good on your skin and your eyelashes are so long, framing your beautiful eyes, and your lips are all glossy and kisseable that it takes him a while to find his own voice.

He clears his throat. "It's alright." scratching the back of his head, he momentarely adverts his gaze from you in an attempt to not get distracted by how soft your hair looks and how much he wants to wrap it around his hands in a ponytail. "Um, where do you want to go first?"

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Almost an hour and a half later, when the sun has already disappeared and you're both surrounded by colorful lights, Jungkook decides to buy the both of you hot dogs and a drink and you both settle down on a bench.

You've been walking all over the fair, going from booth to booth, playing any game in sight Jungkook dared you to -he obviously had a competitive streak-: from the ballon and dart games, to the shooting games, to the bumping cars, to the ball-in-basket one. To say you were having fun was an understatement.

You'd almost regretted setting the date up. You were sure he wouldn't even show up and if he did, you were scared of how awkward things could get between the two of you. And if things were awkward, you were sure it would only take less than thirty minutes for the both of you to part ways and never talk again about such failure of a date.

To your surprise, none of that happened.

The conversation was flowing, both of you acting like you were strangers on their first date getting to know each other, which, to be fair, that's exactly what it felt like. There was a slight banter, teasing each other when one of you lost in whatever game you were playing while the other was obviously winning. There were laughs and a funny feeling in your tummy whenever you'd walk side by side and his arm brushed yours.

There was no stiffness on his shoulders, no mention of the past or your previous encounters, no acknowledgement of the blatant sexual tension you'd experienced before, not an ounce of avoidance whenever your eyes met his and he was even sure of himself enough to place a hand on your lower back or briefly interwine your fingers with his to guide you through the mass of people.

It felt like you'd both unspokenly agreed on making each other feel comfortable enough to have a good time.

"I didn't think you were going to show up, to be honest." you suddenly say, taking a sip of your strawberry juice and thankful to finally let your feet rest for a while.

Jungkook looks at you, hot dog mid air and eyebrows almost disappearing into his hairline. "You didn't think I was going to show up? I didn't think you were going to show up." you simply shrug, lowering your gaze seepishly, the beginning of a smile on both your faces. He surprises you by tilting your head in his direction with his forefinger. You watch him watching you, a little dazed, a little lost in how his dark hair messily falls over his forehead and his equally dark eyes study your face, his thumb swiping over your lower lip. "You um... There was ketchup right there." he lies.

"Oh" you say, feeling your face heating up. "Thanks. Red doesn't really match this dress." you manage a smile and tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear.

At that, he eyes your dress for a moment, mouth slightly ajar. He's debating on whether or not to say something but you beat him to it.

"I'm sorry, by the way."

"For being late? I already told you it's fin-"

"No." you shake your head. "For... that time when we were young and I was such a concieted brat." you say, looking away , trying to find anything else that's not his pretty face. "I thought I was a queen bee back then. I was annoying and rude, specially to you. I..." you lick your lips. The cherry glittery gloss was already gone. "I thought it was cute, what you said. There was no reason for me to act like that. I know this doesn't make anything right but..." when you turn to face him again, there's still the same expression on his face. "I'm sorry."

A few seconds go by before it's him who's shaking his head. "It's okay. It was a long time ago, anyway." he smiles at you, although it doesn't reach his eyes and seems sorta forced. You sigh, and he takes your hand. "Let's go to the ferris wheel."

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tell you're tense. You're sitting right beside him in the ferris cabin, your back is all straight, you're facing forward and he believes you haven't blinked for what feels like an eternity. He thinks it has everything to do with your conversation a few minutes ago. You were probably not content with his response but what could Jungkook do? There was really no point in apologizing for something that happened years ago, but at the same time, he didn't want to hold anything against you like a resentful asshole because it was really not who he was. But there was still a little bit of stingyness inside of him and he didn't know how to make it go away.

At the end of the day, here you were, on a date with him that you'd asked for, getting along and asking questions about him and laughing at his jokes and trying to start all over again.

But then the ferris wheel starts moving, and he finally understands why you look so uncomfortable.

It's the way you immediately grip his forearm, nails digging in his skin and he swears he hears the smallest gasp forcing itself out your throat.

"Are you... scared?" he tentatively asks.

You say nothing for a while, not moving an inch. He would laugh if you didn't look so pained about it.

"I don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters." you finally say through gritted teeth.

"It's not really that small and ferris wheels are not rollercoasters. " your nails dig deeper and he winces. "Okay, okay. You don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters, and that includes ferris wheels. So why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know. I've never liked ferris wheels but you seemed excited about it, so..."

There's a silence after that in the environment, neither of you exactly sure of what to say or how to act. Until Jungkook moves one of his hands hands until it's resting on the one who's holding onto him for dear life, fingers caressing yours. The warmth of his hand spreads through yours and although it's almost July and you can already feel your sweaty back staining your dress, it's oddly comforting. What's more comforting even, is him twisting his body towards you and talking with the calmest and most soothing tone you've ever heard.

"Look at me." you do instantly, unwillingly, and kinda wish you hadn't. It's almost as if your body will do anything he says without question. Like he has some sort of power over it to just react however he wants. His eyes bore into yours and suddenly the cab doesn't seem so suffocating. "It's just you and me right now. We're not even on a ferris wheel." the corners of his mouth turn slowly upwards. You zone out the environment, suddenly too aware of him and how close he is and how loud the beating of your heart is to your own ears.

"Jungkook."

You swallow the knot in the back of your throat when he removes his hand from yours. It almost makes you protest, - now realizing you've losened the tight grip on his arm- , before it craddles your face, keeping you in place while bringing his body closer.

"You have to stop saying my name like that."

With his thigh touching your thigh, your whole demeanor melts. When he leans closer, and you feel his breath fanning over your lips, your eyes shut closed.

"Tell me I can-" he starts to say.

"Yes." you finish for him. He doesn't doubt on closing the distance between you two. His lips touch yours and your body shakes in excitement. It's just him lightly skimming your lips with his but it's already too much and at the same time, not enough. It has you deepening it, yourself moving closer when he kisses you again. It has you relaxing against him, the tenseness prior disappearing and making you arch your back when his tongue asks for permission.

But it's exactly then, the moment you open your lips to him, that has you losing your mind.

The sparks fly, traveling from your head to your toes and then settling on the pit of your stomach as soon as the kiss starts to turn desperate and rough. When he nibbles your lips with his teeth, it makes you mewl and whine and your nipples tight against the cotton of your dress. It makes the metal barbell to feel uncomfortable, slightly painful. And when he goes back to being messy and filthy with his tongue tangled with yours, your thighs close on their own.

He forces himself to pull his hand back and bring it down, finding the parting of yd opening them for him. "Wait," you say, your fingers wrapping around his forearm as you try to catch your breath."The ferris-" he shuts you up with another kiss.

"We're not on a ferris wheel." he reminds you, a soft whisper against your mouth. And for whatever reason, you believe him.

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"He fingered you on the ferris wheel."

"Yes."

"And you came before the ride was over."

You take a small sip of wine, your eyes focusing on the TV where a rerun of the Golden Girls is playing, although, to be fair, lately you haven't been able to pay much attention to anything else but a certain brunet with doe eyes and kisseable lips. "Yes."

She hums, stealing a handful of popcorn from the bowl between your thighs.

"How long did it took? Like five minutes?"

There's a pause in which you clench your jaw, your fingers twitching around the glass in your hand, and then you answer. "Probably less."

There's another pause, and then-

"Ha...Ha ha...Ha ha ha-"

You let her laugh. It's okay. You knew you had it coming.

Chaelin knows the pillow you throw right at her face is also something she had coming.

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It's not that you're mad.

Jungkook and you had a great time on that fair date, he made you laugh, bought hot dogs and drinks for the two of you and got you off inside the cab of a ferris wheel on record time with those magical, long fingers of his. Technically, there shouldn't be anything to be angry about.

Except it's been a week and you can't stop thinking about him, about wanting more, and about those words that he left you with after the ferris wheel ride ended, when you had tried to return the favor.

'Next time, maybe.'

And there hasn't been a next time.

The thought of texting him or giving him a call to ask for another date is persistent in your mind. It remains while you do the laundry or wash the dishes, while you shower, while you eat or while you spend your days at the beach with Chaelin. There's always the incessant desire to reach out towards your phone, unlock it and dial his number to beg for more.

But you'd never been one to beg, so you resist the urge everytime that feeling starts to creep up on you and it washes over you like a wave. You silence your phone and try to concentrate on making the most out of your summer.

It's one random night, when you're tiredly dragging your feet across Chaelin's apartment's carpet, yawning and ready to succumb to a well needed slumber, that you see your phone screen's lighting up with a message.

Your heart pathetically leaps inside your chest when you read his name.

'you free on saturday?'

You wish you could say you ghosted him, ignored his text and moved on with your life until it was him who begged you for another date. But the truth is you opened it in a matter of seconds and typed 'i'm free, why?' back in a rush with trembling fingers.

So now you're on the passanger seat of his car while he sits on the driver seat, the first saturday night of July, like he's Danny Zuko and you're Sandy Olsson, watching a vintage movie in a drive-in theater which plot you don't give a shit about, even if Jungkook's date plan idea made something inside of you churn with adoration.

And the only reason why you don't give a single damn about the movie playing in front of your eyes, is because you're hot. Way too hot. And the reason and cause is none other than the boy-now-turned-man sitting on your left.

You barely exchanged words when he picked you up, just rode in silence until you got to your destination and you bet he can feel as well as you do the tension in the air.

You've surveyed him a few times from the corner of his eye, noticing him fiddling with the rings around his fingers and shifting in his seat from time to time. And if the sight of his fingers bring memories that you've tried to bury to keep yourself from lunching towards him, a brief glance at his forearms, adorned with ink drawn through his golden flesh -doing a poor job at concieling the veins running underneath- and his skin-tight jeans wrapping those muscled thighs of his is enough to have you be the one squirming in your seat.

A woman can only endure so much, and you come to that realization thirty minutes into the movie.

"I want to suck your cock." you say, a stern expression on your face as you turn your body in his direction.

Jungkook frozes as your voice slides over him. It takes him a couple seconds to look at you, shock widening his eyes and parting his lips.

"Huh?" he manages, his grip on the steering wheel turning his knuckles white.

Without separating your gaze from his, you gather your hair and tie it in a ponytail with the hair tie previously around your wrist. You don't miss the quick glance he sneaks into the curvature of your neck and the valley between your breasts.

Inching forward, closing in on him, you place one of your hands on top of his thigh, the action making his whole body tense. "____..." he whispers your name in a warning that doesn't sound convincing even in his own ears.

You smile, your eyes never wavering from his as your hand inches upwards, slowly caressing over the fabric of his jeans until you finally come across what you were looking for.

His hand flies to your wrist, stilling your movements. "____, this is not-". He starts, but his voice gets stuck inside his throat when you palm his undoubtly growing erection.

"Shh." your shaky breath fans over his cheek and you force yourself on your knees on the passanger seat in a more comortable possition to stop the trembling to reach them.

You fumble with the belt holding his pants in place, then with the button and finally with the zipper. He helps you by lifting his hips to pull his jeans and boxers to his thighs and you have to bite back a mixture between a gasp and a moan at the sight below you. You haven't even seen Jeon Jungkook naked all the way, but the mere sight of his hard cock with pre-cum glistening on his crown is probably the sexiest thing you've ever had the pleasure of appreciating.

It gets sexier when you wrap your hand around the base and his body melts in the driver seat, throwing his head back with his eyes shut. It gets even sexier when you finally lower your head, swirling your tongue over the head before finally engulfing him fully in the wet warmth of your mouth.

"Shit." his voice is tight, uneven as his hand loosely grips your ponytail, as if careful not to accidentally hurt you and break the glorious moment.

Although you wouldn't mind at all. Because the moment your hands are on him, and your tongue is on his shaft, that's the only thing you care about. Your belly is twisting, an undeniable wet spot on your panties as the fabric sticks to your folds, and the more you suck Jungkook, the more you want from him. His earthy taste is addicting and the soft little whimpers he occasionally can't prevent himself from are making you want to milk him until he can't take it no more. There's this desire within you to whorship him and his cock like you had been dreaming for the past weeks.

"This is s-so fucking h-hot." he rasps between ragged breaths, the bobbing of your head, sliding up and down his dick as your hand works the centimeters your mouth can't take is about to make him faint.

"Getting a blowjob?" you joke, your throat starting to feel sore as you kiss his leaking tip.

"N-no." he draws in a rough breath when you take him all of him again. "You giving me a blowjob... T-the f-fact that anyone c-could see us..." he darts a quick glance at your body, your ass up in the air and your dress sliding down, almost exposing you completely. "The fact that-ah! Shit..." he squeezes his eyes when he feels a glob of your spit lubricating him.

There's a sudden need to make you feel the same, to touch your skin and have you shaking the same way you have him. So one of his hands travels from your spine, to your perked ass, finally dragging the cotton of your dress to allow himself to see your thin white panties. "The fact that anyone could see you l-like this," he murmurs, regaining a little bit of control when he squeezes one of your cheeks. "letting t-them see you s-sucking my cock and..." he smirks when he feels you gasping around him, his fingers trapped between your thighs and pushing them inside your heat easily "and letting them see me fingering this pretty little pussy."

Soon after that he's cumming in your mouth while you're cumming around his fingers.

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At first, it's mostly on weekends when you see each other. Weekends of stolen kisses and soft sighs and whispering against each other's lips. Then weekends turn to week days, sitting on grass while sipping on refreshing beverages, drawing each other laughs, elbows touching as you walk around the park side by side because the both of you are too scared to interwine your fingers together.

Jungkook feels content like this: sitting on the sand with you between his thighs, admiring the sunset while nuzzing your neck and inhaling your scent every now. He likes waching you enoying your strawberry ice cream, almost forgetting the chocolate chip one already melting in his hand.

"If you were an ice cream flavor,which one would you be?" you ask him, relaxing against his chest.

"Rocky road."

"Why?"

He shrugs behind you. "Everyone likes rocky road."

You hum, playfully rolling your eyes. "What about me? Which ice cream flavor would I be?"

"Lemon sherbet, in the summer."

"Lemon sherbet? Out of all of the flavours out there, you're rocky road and I'm lemon sherbet?"

"Lemon sherbet, in the summer." he corrects.

"Okay, fine. Why?"

"You're boring and basic."

You gasp, trying to feign outrage but not being able to repress the laugh that escapes your throat. You elbow him, his laugh mixing with yours while taking the time to wrap his arms around your form, the breeze blowing your hair allowing him a spot between your neck and your shoulder. "You're boring and basic, but once you have a taste..." he presses a small kiss on your skin, causing the tiny hairs on the nape of your neck to rise. "Once you have a taste, specially on the hottest day in the middle of summer, you can't stop tasting and licking until there's no more lemon sherbet left."

You suck in on a breath when he craddles your jaw to face him. "It's been my favourite flavor since I was a kid." he kisses you immediately after, his lips swallowing the small whimper now stuck in your throat.

You close your eyes as his tongue opens your mouth, arousal blasting your insides and something much, much deeper that you fear to even name shredding your chest.

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The beginning of august comes faster then you two realize, but what you both do realize is how hard it's becoming to stay away from each other.

It's been thirty days of dates happening almost everyday, sharing high school memories and anecdotes of the time you spent away from each other. Hours of getting to know each other and opening up to each other. From failed relationships to new friendships. Of park dates walking side by side and fingers now interwined because you both realized one day that, fuck it.

It's difficult to sleep when you realize you're starting to catch serious feelings for somebody who was just supposed to be a fling. It's hard to sleep when his face, his voice and his touch and thoughts of missing him when you don't see each other start haunting you at night.

It's hard for Jungkook to focus on work when you're everything that's occupying his mind. Because he has a hundred sketches to make but he's too busy thinking about the hundred different sketches he would make of you.

It's hard not to send him a goodnight text, just like it's hard for him not to reply in a matter of seconds, almost as if he was already waiting to recieve it.

Jungkook thinks of you at night. Of how pretty and absolutely perfect you are for him. Of the taste of your lips, the way your hair feels between his fingers, or the flush on your cheeks when he makes you cum as droplets of sweat accumulate between your breasts. He thinks about your voice. He also thinks about the amount of hours left to be able to listen to it again.

But mostly he thinks about how ridiculous this situation is. Because he was stupidly crushing on you when you were only teenagers, daydreaming about a chance with you. And now his crush is long gone and he's starting to realize that he's falling, and falling fast.

You, too, think of Jungkook at night. Of his ability to bring a smile out of you, to soothe you with just a few words and filling your belly excitement, happiness and feelings you're sure you've never felt before.

Jungkook's managed to imprint himself in your dreams, and you, in his.

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Getting drunk with Jungkook is fun and messy.

It's fun because he lets loose, he stutters a lot like he used to do when he was a teenager and he makes you laugh louder than ever before. It's messy because he has no control over his hands as they explore your body, clumsily taking your clothes off as his mouth laps at the breast he's allowed to touch.

He's more forceful and dominating too, pinning your hands above your head, and commanding you to keep them right there, on the pillows of his bed. When you rebel against it, your fingers finding the hard planes of his chest, he pulls away from you and places them back where he left them. "Don't make me tie you up." he threatens, and your body shudders beneath him.

He sucks, and bites and leaves marks all over your skin, grunting in response to your moans. Creating a path of kisses from your lips to your stomach, his shoulders separating your knees, opening you up only for him. And thankfully, when you reach down to tug at the strands of hair framing his face, he lets you, because he knows you need something to hold on to the moment his tongue eats you up. He leaves his fingertrips on your thighs as he keeps you in place, not allowing you to runaway. Just forcing you to take it as he takes from you.

And when you cum, he doesn't back away. He keeps sucking, and licking and punishing you with his mouth until you're cumming over and ove again, screaming and begging for his cock.

Having Jungkook over you, both completely naked, skin to skin and only sweat in between is more than you could've ever fantazised about. He slurls your name when he puts the condom on. He would do anything to feel you raw, but he also knows he wouldn't be able to last a minute. The sight of you spread open, with your cheeks darkened by a crimson blush and your hair tangled all over his pillow is a picture he wants to keep forever.

He enters you when you call his name, your voice dripping with need. He stretches your warm and wet felsh, slowly easing himself into you at first, until he's fully inside and your bodies are completely in union. A shiver runs down Jungkook's spine when he looks at your contorted face in pleasure, your lips forming an 'O' and your pussy clenching around him.

"Oh, my God." you moan into the dark of Jungkook's room, and even then, he can clearly appreciate every curve of your body lifting off the mattress to connect with his. He lowers himself on his elbows on either side of your head, caging you in and capturing your mouth with his.

"I know, baby." he murmurs. It's hot, in the middle of August but suddenly Jungkook doesn't hate summer as much as he used to. Not with you sharing the heat with him. "It's way beyond what I could ever imagine." You nod hurriedly against his lips, your arms finding their way around his neck as he starts rocking in and out of you.

"It's too good." you cry, when he hits a particular spot that has you rolling your eyes in bliss and gripping his waist tighter with your legs against you. Your fingers thread through his hair, not bothered by the beads of sweat gathered on the nape of his neck.

"Too good..." he agrees, not missing the shiver that's shaking your own frame when he picks up his speed. "You have no idea what I would do t-to fucking feel you with n-no barriers between us," his movements become frantic as his hips slap against yours, his jaw clenched as he keeps talking, "to s-stuff you full of my c-cum over and over again until it won't stop d-dripping."

Jungkook's voice against your ear has you trembling and your orgasm nearing closer, your nails scratching down his back as his thrusts overpower your form. "Would you like that?" he asks with his voice strangled.

"Y-yes. Anything y-you want."

"You'd take all of my cum like a good cum-slut?"

You hate the fact that that's what makes you come undone. The twisting and knotting in the pit of your stomach finally snapping until you're holding on to him like you never want to let him go and he's following soon after.

Because if Guk, Gukkie, Jengukkie was not only able to make you come in less than a few minutes with his fingers or his tongue, but he was also able to make you cum instantly just by calling you a good cum-slut, that means you're fucked. Like, really, really fucked.

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There's a knot in Jungkook's stomach and a suffocating grip around his vocal chords as he caresses your skin. The sun is rising in the distance with the first rays of light entering his room through the window. Your shamphoo is intoxicating him, numbing him and enticing him to bury his nose in the tangled curls pressing against his chest. Your arm is thrown across his stomach, your breathing leavig goosebumps all over his body.

"It's too early. Go back to sleep." you mumble against his heart. He wonders if you can feel it dangerously speeding up.

"I can't." he says, voice struggling to stay balanced. "I have to tell you something."

You hum in response, sleep still interwined with your body, your arm tightening around him. You sigh in content, expecting him to elaborate.

He wets his suddenly dry lips. "I don't want this to end. In fact, ____.... I want more. Need more."

"Jungkook..." your whole body goes rigid right away, untanglling your bodies from each other and sitting up on the mattress.

"No, listen to me." he mimicks your movements, rapidly grabbing your hands to make you look at him. His eyes are expressive, a mixture of fear and hope swirling in his dark irises. "I wake up everyday, and you're the first thing I think of. I go on about my day, and I keep thinking about you, wondering what you're doing and counting down the hours until I get to see you again. I spend every night dreaming about you, and when we'e together, the only thing I can think about is how I wish I could stop time so I don't have to say bye to you the next morning. ____, I-"

"Jungkook, stop please." you shake your head, pushing away from him and in desperate need of air. You press a hand against your chest, beating back the throb of pain while the other curls in a tight fist, the feeling of your fingernails digging into your palm less painful than the ache inside your heart. "This... This wasn't supossed to happen, Jungkook." you start pacing around the room, as if trying to find an exit while avoiding his gaze. "This was just a summer fling. That's all it was, I'm supposed to come back to the city in two weeks and-"

"A summer fling?" a sardonic sneer comes out of him. "Oh my God, I can't believe this is happening again..." he mumbles to himself before rising from the bed. You stop immediately, a shiver quaking through you as his impressive frame intimidates His eyebrows are drawn together and his dark eyes are void of any prior emotion. "You're going back to the city in two weeks? And you didn't care to tell me until now, after I just spilled my guts to you?"

You eyes fill up with uncomfortable tears, reaching one arm towards him. "Jung-"

He flinches, taking one step back. "A summer fling is all I mean to you?"

"Ju- "

"Look me in the eyes, right now, and tell me that's all I mean to you. A summer fling." panic crawls up your throat. There's the need within you to confirm, to stare into his beautiful and stern eyes and tell him that, yes, that's all he is to you. But you've never been a good liar. So nothing comes out. You opt for wrapping your ams around yourself wishing they were his and lowering your eyes to the ground. "I think... I think you should leave."

Those are the last words he says to you, and the last thing you see when you turn around one more time after gathering your clothes, is his back as he looks out the window.

You allow yourself to cry the exact moment you step into Chaelin's apartment. Your friend is sitting on the couch, bowl of cereal in hand and a fresh cup of coffee sitting on the livingroom's table.

"Hey, you're early tod- Baby, what's wrong?"

"Please, don't laugh."

That morning, you lay down for hours on the couch with your head on Chaelin's lap while she softly brushes your hair as you cry, hiccup, fight through the pain in your heart and relate to her as best as you can the latest events.

She doesn't laugh at all.

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"She'll come back." Mijoo's slurred words do nothing to put Jungkook's state at ease that night. He simply shrugs, fingers clenching at his sides, frowing into his drink before gulping down the bitter taste of vodka in one shot. "Seriously, I think she's just afraid. My ex was the same."

"Comparing her to your ex is not the analogy you think it is."

"Ugh, shut up. Things didn't work with my ex because she was a bitch." Jungkook gives Mijoo a pointed look which she responds to by rolling her eyes and sipping on her rum coke. "Your girl is not a bitch. She used to be a bitch. What she did this morning was bitchy, but, like I said, she's just being a pussy. If she only wanted sex with you, she wouldn't have been doing couple stuff with you the entire summer."

"Whatever. I don't care." he lies and Mijoo knows he's lying but decides to drop the subject fo now.

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"We can't keep spending our days smoking weed." Chaelin speaks over Blanche's voice on the TV.

"I know. I'm just sad."

"You have to come back and tell him how you feel."

"I know."

There's a beat of silence before your friend kicks your thigh with her feet.

"I know and I will." you mumble through red eyes and smoke clouds.

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It's September first and it doesn't feel like Jungkook's birthday at all. He's been trying to focus on his work, alternating between isolating in full hermit mode and hanging out with friends to drink away his sorrow. The days have gone by and before he could realize it, he woke up today with over twenty text messages wishing him a happy day and a throbbing hangover.

He dresses up on autopilot. First a cotton shirt, then a pair of jeans and lastly, his Nike's. He doesn't bother tying his sneakers just like he doesn't bother taking a shower. He smokes a cigarette for breakfast, the death stick making him feel nauseaus on an empty stomach. And then he goes to work.

He's been repeating the same routing for the past weeks and he's not thinking of changing it, not even on his bithday.

He spends hours drawing, tattooing and drawing some more between yawns. He ignores texts an phone calls and simply waits until the day is over to go home, go to bed and forget about the fact that you're probably on your way to the city and that he hasn't crossed your mind not even once.

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Inkphoria.

You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping cup of ice cream as it melts down your fingers the more you wait. The shop is already empty and it's starting to darken out side, and still you're so hot. Your shorts are heavy and your tank top is sticking to your skin. You didn't even bother to put on any make, although your eyebags definitely needed some concieling and your lashes some dimension to hide the fact that you'd been crying for the last few days.

'You're crazy about him.'

Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.

You've lost count of how many times your best friend has given your advice, or simply encouraged you to do something you've been too scared to try.

'And he's cazy about you too.'

Chaelin might be wrong about marmite and the movie Cats, but she's definitely now wrong about anything regarding your and Jungkook.

That's it. You briefly close your eyes, inhale a deep breath then release it slowly. You start walking. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing the door open.

The tattoed blonde looks up from the counter the second you come into view. She smiles at the distance between you two. "You can come closer. I won't bite."

You clear your throat, stalking closer to her. "Is he-"

"He's in the back." she replies before you can finish you question. You close your mouth, clear your throat and nod your head.

"Thanks, Mijoo." she gives you a small wink, her smile easing your nerves like she had three months ago.

She watches you disappear. She shakes he head, her smile meeting her eyes. "I told him so."

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Jungkook ignores the knock on his door at first. It's almost ten and the parlor is about to close. He just has to finish this last fucking sketch so he can grab his shit and go the fuck ho-

Knock knock.

He growls, exhasperation cursing through him. He runs a hand through his messy pile of hair, his rings tangling between the strands, making him wince in pain. "Come in." he grunts under his breath. The door opens. "Mijoo, I really have to finish-"

He stops dead in his tracks as soon as he sees you.

"Hey." you say after a moment of hesitation.

"Hey." he replies and although there's something inside, deep in his chest, shouting at him to stand up, run up to you and kiss your face while he tells you how beautiful you look right now and how happy he is to see that you're still here, he decides against it. "Listen, ____, I'm pretty busy-"

"No, you listen to me." you cut him off abruptly. He looks taken aback and is already opening his mouth to say something, but you're not having it. "Please, just... Let me talk."

Silence looms between the two of you for a while, a staring contest defying each other to back down. When you take one step inside and close the door behind you, he sighs and leans back against his chair.

You move towards him slowly, your lip caught between your lip going through your mind for the speech you'd been preparing the last few days. Your hands are sticky due to the the sugary treat liquifying in your hand. "I know there's no reason you should give me another chance after rejecting you in high school, and there's definitely no reason why you should forgive me for the way I shut you out a few weeks ago. You've been confessing your feelings to me since we were teenagers, and now it's my turn to tell you exactly how I feel about you."

"Jungkook, the truth is... I like you so much. I like you more than I've ever liked anyone. Ever. I said this was just a summer fling, and I was lying. I was lying because there's no way a simple summer fling could make me feel the way you do. There's no way a simple summer fling could make me want not just summer with you, but also fall and winter, and spring and every summer that comes next."

You hadn't realize when your eyes filling up with tears until the sight of him starts blurrying in front of you. His fingers reach yours, his thumb comforting on your skin. "____, it's okay-"

"I'm not done yet." you sniffle, gathering enough courage to continue. "I brought you a lemon sherbet because you said it was your favourite. But you also implied I was your favourite, and I want to keep being you favourite, but now it's already melted and-"

The corners of Jungkook's lips start pulling upward as he tugs you towards him, his heart loudly jumping inside his chest. "Shhh, come here."

He takes the ice cream from your hand and places it on his desk. Then he's helping you onto his lap, your head tucked under his chin and your arms wapping on their own around his neck.

He doesn't care about your sticky fingers or the wet stains of your tears in his shirt. The only thing he cares about is the fact that you're right there, letting him engulf your frame and drown in the scent and warmth he'd misses so much.

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The first day of June has Jungkook sweating and wishing for a haircut. Jungkook usually hates summer. He hates the fact that he has to shower at least twice a day, and the fact that the heat is almost unbearable to sleep in and also the fact that he's easily sunburnt.

This year, however, Jungkook likes summer a little bit more.

"Excuse me, miss. Do you have an appointment?" it's the fact that you're starting to wear those summer dresses he loves so much, and the fact that your skin glows under the sun like glitter, and also the fact that he can lick ice cream off of it whenever he desires.

"I am the appointment." your giggle is almost childlike, playing with Jungkook's heart strings. You shut the door behind you, nearing him. You also seem to always have that flush on your cheeks. Although he likes to think part of it is due to him. He doesn't say anything else as he puts his pencil down and instead turns around in the chair to have you immediately on top of his thighs.

Yeah, he also likes the path your lips trace from his cheek, to his jaw, ending at the juncture between his neck and his shoulder. It still makes his body quaver to this day.

"Let me see." he murmurs against you forhear, his hand already working on unbottoning the front of your dress.

"Mijoo hasn't left yet." you whisper back, your smile impossible to supress and the faint whimper impossible to hide when his fingers expose your breast and tug at the titanium barbell adorning the already hardened nub.

Jungkook loves knowing he was the one to do that, and also the only one to play with it. He doesn't hesitate when he dips his head. "As if we'd ever cared about that." he adds, wrapping your sole point in his mouth.

He fucks you on his studio table with your legs around his waist and his tongue playing with both your breasts, the tattoo sketches long forgotten, scattered on the floor as he whispers against your flesh something that sounds a lot like 'I love you'.

[seijorhi]

Reminiscent

i’m (semi) back, y’all, and i come bearing a fic!! fhdjhfjdk it’s for oikawa i won’t apologise

Oikawa Tooru x female reader

TW non-con, drunk/drugged reader, forced infidelity, emotional manipulation, angst, past trauma, coercion, mild(ish?) smut, nsfw

“F-fuck, cutie! Just like – hah– just like that!”

You weren’t the clubbing type.

Not usually, at least – but exams were over and one of your friends was fresh off a bad breakup, one night letting loose wouldn’t hurt.

Walking is… difficult, your steps are sloppy – there’s an arm wrapped around your waist, your own slung over a stranger’s shoulders. Why are you outside? Where are your friends – they… they promised they wouldn’t leave you. 

“She good, dude?”

A soft, pretty laugh rumbles at your side, “Yeah, she’s gonna be just fine.”

And you remember the bar, the overpriced cocktails and the saccharine sweetness of strawberry liquor on your tongue. The dizzying lights and the bass that thumped so loudly you felt it reverberate in your chest. You knew the rules; they’d been drilled into you since you were sixteen years old.

Stick together, don’t accept drinks from strangers, and watch the one in your hand like a hawk - it doesn’t leave your sight.

A tongue between the valley of your breasts, long fingers curling up inside of you. 

“You like that, huh pretty girl? You gonna cum for me?”

They wouldn’t have just abandoned you, right? Maybe you told them to go. Maybe they thought you wanted it; to go home with the handsome stranger.

You never had the guts to ask them, never spoke about that night again. Not to anyone.

Pain. Something thrusting inside of you, splitting you open while he moans and pants atop you. It hurts so much and you want it to stop. 

Please stop. Please. Please. Please.

You’re begging, at least you think you are, but the words come out jumbled and wrong, and he just laughs, hiking up your thigh so he can fuck you deeper.

Why won’t he stop?

When you wake up, bruised and sore and all alone in your bed, it feels like a bad dream. You know it’s not – not with cum still seeping from between your thighs, the scent of the stranger’s cologne clinging to your sheets.

And you scrub your skin raw in the shower, but it isn’t enough to rid you of his touch.

—

It’s nothing like what they show on tv.

There’s no sympathetic detective to pat you on your shoulder while you break down, swearing that they’ll find the man who did this and you’ll get your justice.

You don’t go to the cops because you’ll know what they’ll say. You were drunk, drugged, and even if you could remember what he looked like (his eyes were brown, you think, and there’s a flash of a smirk in your head but the moment you try to focus on it it slips away like smoke) any evidence of rape washed down the drain the moment you stepped into the steaming shower.

At least… that’s what you tell yourself. It’s easier than admitting you’re terrified of judgemental eyes. 

Or worse; pitying ones.

So you pretend that nothing happened. You show up to your classes and throw yourself into studying, make the time to get coffee with your friends, you even pick up a part time job – it’s good to keep busy. 

The nightmares are just that; nightmares.

And things are fine, until they’re not.

—

“Baby, you’re here!!”

There’s barely time to drop your bags before she’s pulling you into a warm hug. “Hi mom,” you reply, squeezing her back.

When she draws back to take you in, one hand cupping your cheek, she frowns, “You look tired sweetheart. Have you been sleeping enough?”

“Yeah, just tired from exams and stuff.”

She looks unconvinced, but mercifully doesn’t push the issue. Of course, you don’t tell her that you missed your last two exams because you’d walked past some guy wearing that same cologne and just choked – that instead of finishing off your semester strong, you’d spent the day alternating between throwing up and crying in bed.

She doesn’t need to know that, because of that, you’ll probably fail both classes and have to retake them again next semester on top of an already full course load. It’s fine; you’ll figure it out.

For now, you work on matching her enthusiasm at having you home, grabbing your bags to bring them inside and into your old room.

“Oh, wait–”

Abruptly, you pause, gazing in confusion from the doorway of your bedroom. There’s a duffle bag lying open and empty atop your bed, a tangled jump rope, some weights, an empty bottle, a sweat towel – even what looks like a spare workout tee scattered haphazardly across the sheets.

“… I didn’t take you for a gym junkie, mom.”

She stops behind you, sighing. “It’s not mine it’s– Tooru said he was going to tidy it up, sorry sweetheart.” She sweeps past you to start tidying it up, but not before you catch sight of her wide eyed, deer in headlights expression.

And you can’t help the lone eyebrow that rises, falling back against the doorframe, arms folding across your chest. “Tooru, huh?” you grin, “And who might Tooru be?”

The flustered, almost guilty look she sends you makes you want to laugh – this is easy, comfortable, this you can do – but you restrain yourself. Just. “Tooru is… he’s– well, he’s the man I’m… seeing.”

She admits it like she’s confessing to a crime, eyes all wide and nervous; anticipating your reaction. And you suppose it’s not unwarranted. As far as you’re aware, she’s been alone ever since the day your dad walked out on you both – raising you was always the priority, or maybe the excuse. But you’re not fourteen anymore, you don’t need another father figure or every spare bit of her time and attention, and she doesn’t need your approval for this.

So you smile at her, “Is he nice?”

She lights up, her features – almost a mirror image of your own – softening as she beams, “He’s amazing, honey. I honestly don’t know how this whole thing really happened, or why he’s even interested in someone like me but… I lucked out with him.”

And so it goes, you prying little bits of information about the mysterious Tooru as the afternoon passes.

She tells you that they met a few months back, at the bakery she likes in town – and how she kept running into him; at the grocery store, and then at the park, and then on her way back from yoga that one night.

She tells you that he’s a terrible flirt, all smooth and charming with warm, pretty brown eyes, but he’s a good man beneath it all and she’s never met anyone like him. 

It strikes you, as you watch your mom animatedly talk about him, that you’ve never seen her look like this before. 

Happy. 

She can’t stop smiling, and when you look at her, really look, she’s almost a different person – younger somehow, a bit more care-free. It suits her, and you wonder with a slight pang in your heart how you never noticed how lonely she was before.

And she’s adamant that they’re taking things slowly, that he still has an apartment of his own in town – which to be honest, you really aren’t gonna judge her on either way – but it is kind of funny simply because whether your mom realises it or not, it’s clearly a lie.

The subtle reclaiming of your bedroom aside, there’s traces of Tooru scattered all around the house; the extra toothbrush and aftershave you’d spotted in the bathroom, the men’s  shoes and the jacket by the door, red wine in the cupboard when your mom’s only ever indulged in white.

You haven’t been into her bedroom, but at this point you’d hazard a guess that there’s at least one drawer full of Tooru’s clothes, probably half her closet cleared out for him as well.

“He’s coming for dinner, but I just wanted today to be just us,” she says, reaching across the couch to squeeze your hand. And you’re grateful for it, because you’re happy for her – you are – but you’re not so sure how you would’ve handled meeting the stranger holding your mother’s heart first thing. At least, not after the last few days.

Not when you still feel all… brittle. 

—

Tooru arrives a little after seven, and to say that he’s not entirely what you were expecting is kind of an understatement. 

She’d gushed about how tall and handsome he is – though personally, you think pretty’s the more accurate word, what with his soft, delicate features, perfect cupid’s bow lips and all. What she’d neglected to tell you was that the man in question, stepping through the front door with a faint smile on his face, has to be at least ten years younger than her, mid-thirties at most.

Suddenly, your mom’s initial reluctance to bring him up starts to make sense.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” he murmurs, stopping by your mom to drop a fleeting kiss to her cheek before warm brown eyes turn to you. 

Your heart stutters.

“Sweetheart,” your mom begins, slipping an arm around his waist and relaxing into his side, “this is Tooru– Oikawa,” she corrects herself.

He smiles at you, friendly and charming, “It’s great to finally meet you, your mom’s told me so much – all good things, of course!”

You force yourself to smile in return, “Yeah, you too.” 

There’s nothing overtly wrong with Oikawa, age difference aside – your mom’s clearly head over heels in love with the guy and on a surface level he seems nice enough, but you find yourself glad for the fact that he doesn’t make a move to step closer, try to shake your hand or god forbid hug you or something like that.

He’s nothing but a gentleman as your mom steps back into the kitchen to finish off dinner, setting the table without being prompted, pouring a glass of wine for your mom and one for himself before he offers a glass to you. 

“Oh, no I’m alright, thanks.”

You don’t drink so much anymore. He shrugs, like it’s no big deal but your mom pouts at you from the kitchen. “C’mon, sweetie. We’re celebrating tonight! One drink won’t hurt.”

“We’re celebrating?” you ask.

She throws you a wink, gaze softening as she turns to glance at Oikawa, already diligently pouring you a glass, “Of course we are. It’s not every day my girl comes home, and it’s nice having you both here with me.”

Oikawa’s fingers brush against yours for a fleeting second as he passes you the glass, and you have to fight to keep yourself from ripping your hand away. It’s nothing, you just– you’re not good with strangers touching you, and as nice as he is and as much as your mom might be infatuated with him, he is still a stranger.

“Absolutely,” he agrees, a playful twinkle in his eye as he clinks his wine glass against yours. “So you’re at uni, right? What are you studying?”

Uni’s the last thing you want to be thinking about right now, but whether or not Oikawa genuinely cares, he’s obviously trying to make an effort to get to know you. For your mother’s sake, grinning innocuously in the kitchen as she adds the last little touches to dinner, you suck it up, plaster a smile across your face and ignore the twinge of discomfort in your gut.

You can handle one night of small talk.

—

You wake the following morning to the sound of voices carrying down the hall.  

Not your mother’s – both are too deep, and your mom left a few hours ago for work. Figuring that one of them at least is likely Oikawa, you pull on a thin, satin robe over your pajamas, tying the sash in a loose knot before you slip from the room.

Those suspicions are proven correct; you round the corner to find Oikawa sitting up at the kitchen counter, a warm cup of coffee in his hand. There’s another man, a touch shorter, but imposing with dark, spiky hair and olive green eyes standing on the other side, hands braced on the marble top, glaring at Oikawa.

They both look up at the sound of your hesitant approach, the stranger abruptly straightening up, while Oikawa merely grins.

“Ah, you’re up,” he observes cheerfully, taking a sip of his coffee.

Your eyes flicker between him and the stranger – clearly comfortable enough in your home and with Oikawa, despite the faint, lingering irritation still visible on his face – and as your cheeks warm, you find yourself wishing you’d put actual clothes on before coming out to investigate.

“I- I heard voices…” you trail off, awkwardly folding your arms over your chest. “Is mom–”

“At work,” he supplies. “Do you want some breakfast? Coffee, maybe?”

You risk another glance at the other man, watching you now with an unreadable expression, dark eyebrows furrowed. You swallow uncomfortably, shifting slightly as you shake your head. “No, I-I’m okay.”

And in an instant, a flash, something like recognition passes through those olive eyes. 

 Oikawa chuckles smoothly, finally tearing his eyes away from you to address his friend, “Iwa, stop being so rude. You’re scaring the poor thing.”

The stranger, Iwa, just scoffs. “You’re a real piece of shit, y’know?”

If he’s bothered by the scathing insult, Oikawa doesn’t show it, merely shrugging before turning his attention back to you with a smirk. “Ignore him, he’s just pissy this morning.”

You’d have to be a complete idiot not to sense the uncomfortable tension between the two of them – and now you. This is your home, but it feels like you’re intruding, like you’ve stumbled into a conversation you have no business hearing, but even if you wanted to leave your feet are rooted to the ground. 

“Besides,” Oikawa continues, “he was just leaving anyway, weren’t you, Iwa?” It’s almost a purr, the way he speaks, but even the silken words can’t entirely mask the razor sharpness that lies beneath. 

Goosebumps prickle along your arms.

Staring at you, Iwa opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but seemingly thinks better of it, snapping it shut with an audible click. He huffs, shaking his head. “Yeah, fine, whatever.”

He spares you another glance on his way out, standing frozen by the hall. For a split second he slows, his scowl softening just a fraction–

“Iwa.”

It sounds like a warning, but he only rolls his eyes and huffs again. You think he’s going to walk out without another word to either of you, but he pauses once more, lingering by the entryway.

“You look a lot like your mother, anyone ever tell you that?”

He’s out the door before you can even think to reply, letting it slam shut in his wake. And you flinch at the harsh sound, something uneasy settling into the pit of your stomach–

“Hey,” Oikawa’s there by your side, his fingers entwining with yours. You hadn’t even heard him move. “Come sit, don’t worry about Iwa. He’ll get over it.”

His voice is soothing, you don’t pay attention to the words themselves, the implications there. You forget for a moment that you’re still in your pj’s, that you really don’t know him that well either, and mindlessly follow when he leads you to the couch and sits you down, taking the seat next to you.

And while your head’s still spinning, an uncomfortable feeling gnawing in the pit of your gut, Oikawa seems entirely unbothered by the turn of events, sighing contentedly as he stretches his long legs out, one arm sliding along the back of the couch behind you.

“Do your… friends usually just drop by like that?”

You don’t know where the words come from, or why that’s the first question on your mind, but when you glance over at him, Oikawa’s just watching you, an odd little half smirk playing on his lips. “Sometimes.”

His answer does little to soothe your unease. It’s really not a big deal, you know it’s not. Officially or not, this is his home too – you’re the one out of place. And if he wants to have people over when your mom’s not around, that’s fine, he can do whatever the hell he wants, but… 

You came home for peace. To hide away for a few days and pretend that everything’s just fine and you’re not one breakdown away from shattering entirely. You wanted your mom and the comfort of your old bedroom and safety and it’s fine – great, even – that she’s found somebody who makes her happy, but this– him and the weirdness with his friend and everything is just too much, and–

You don’t realise that your leg’s bouncing until Oikawa’s hand comes to rest on your bare thigh. It’s enough to make your stomach flip, an icy chill trickling down your spine as his thumb slowly strokes across the soft, plush skin. “Relax, cutie,” he coos, chuckling softly when you visibly flinch and squeeze your eyes shut.

“P-please don’t call me that,” you choke out, fighting against the wave of nausea rising up your throat. And it’s just like last time, his cologne, notes of vanilla and cedar and spice, swirling thick and heady around you. That phantom touch, the warmth of hands gripping too tight, unwanted kisses hot and eager against your skin. 

“No?” he asks, cruel amusement dripping from his tone. “Why not? I think it suits you, cutie.”

You want him to stop, to push him away, slap him – do anything really, but you’re frozen in place, shaking as the memories you’ve fought so hard to shove down come bubbling back to the surface. You can’t think straight, not with his hand sliding between your thighs, the warmth of his body pressing too closely against yours.

“Iwa was right, you know,” Oikawa murmurs, smoldering brown eyes drinking you in as you childishly shake your head, willing him away. His other hand catches your cheek, drawing your face back to him as tears well in your eyes, stubbornly clinging to your lashes. “She does look so much like you, the same eyes even.” 

He whispers it like a secret, nuzzling his nose against yours like a lover would as he sighs sweetly, “It’s the only reason I could stand it.”

And then he’s kissing you, the tenderness of his lips belied by iron fingers digging into your jaw when you whimper and try to wrench yourself free. 

It’s not like the nightmares that startle you awake in the middle of the night, gasping for air; hazy, broken recollections that fade the moment you try to reach for them. No, every touch, every moment of his assault passes in stark clarity.

The feel of Oikawa’s mouth as it trails greedily down your neck, his hand sliding under the cotton of your sleep shorts, even his pleased little hum when he realises you’re not wearing panties. “Such a good girl for me. Fuck, I’ve missed this.”

This time there’s no drugs in your system keeping you pliant and helpless, but that doesn’t make a difference. Not when his words echo in your head, playing again and again until every awful, sickening piece falls into place.

Long, nimble fingers stroke at your folds, and you can’t help the shivery gasp that leaves you when the tip of his middle finger sweeps over your clit. 

“Please– please don’t do this,” you sniffle.

Oikawa presses another fleeting kiss to your shoulder, “Shh, none of that. Let me help you, baby.”

“N-no, I don’t, I don’t– Stop!”

Knocking away the hands that try to push him back, he hooks his fingers over the hem of your shorts and slides them down your legs, your pitifully weak struggles only making things easier for him. It’s only when Oikawa reaches for his own zipper that panic truly strikes home.

You can’t just lie here and let this happen again. You won’t.

And like a switch flipped, you start to trash like a wild thing beneath him, the scream you’ve kept buried inside of you for months ripping itself free from your throat–

Only for the fingers that had been toying with your pussy to be shoved down your throat, cutting you off with a choked gurgle. As you gag, fruitlessly try to tug yourself free, Oikawa leans in nice and close – except this time there’s no gentleness to his expression, nothing but viciousness as he grins and bares his teeth. 

“You wanna yell, pretty girl? Want the neighbours to come running, let them see me fuck you?” He grinds his hips against you, his breath shivery as he pants at the friction of his half hard cock against your side. Nausea twists at your gut, acrid and bitter – you want to be sick, to cry and beg with him to stop but with his fingers still stuffed in your mouth, his thumb digging into the soft underside of your jaw all you can manage is an unintelligible whine. He hums, kissing away the single hot tear that spills down your cheek, “You think if you cry loudly enough, mommy’ll come home and save you?”

And it’s like time stands still as he laughs, cruel eyes glinting when he presses down on your tongue, warm saliva pooling around his digits. “Such a little whore, trying to seduce her poor, innocent boyfriend the very moment her back’s turned. Tell me, cutie,” he coos, “who do you think she’d believe?”

Your breath hitches, another sob catching in your throat – even if you wanted to answer, you can’t and he knows it. “She’s in love with me, you know. It’s almost a little pathetic how easy it was to manipulate her into bed – so lonely… desperate for love, for somebody – anybody – to pay attention to her, take care of her,” he sneers, distaste curling at his lips. “Wouldn’t it just break her fragile little heart to know she’s fallen for the man who raped her baby girl?”

Another garbled cry slips past his fingers and you can only watch in frozen horror as his other hand drifts back to his zipper. “You want to protect her, don’t you?”

His grip relents just enough for you to jerk a shaky nod.

“Pretty girl, so good for me.” Another kiss pressed to your cheek as the quiet hiss of his zipper fills the air around you. “It’ll be our little secret, hmm? She doesn’t need to know just yet, let her be happy a little while longer…”

Sliding down his briefs just far enough for his cock to spring free, he strokes it for a moment with slow, leisurely movements, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he watches your eyes widen. 

And when he pulls you forward, guides your mouth towards it, pre-cum beading at the tip, withdrawing his fingers so you can quickly gasp for air, you just… let him.

The fight’s gone, as quickly as it had come. 

You let his fingers curl through your hair, use it as an anchor when your lips part to force his cock between them. And he moans, low and shivery as your tongue slides along the underside of his shaft and you try not to gag around the sudden intrusion. 

You think that there’s no room left inside of you for shame, but as his other hand creeps back between your legs, teasing at your cunt, you burn with it, clinging to the pyre of your own humiliation and disgust.

And still, you kneel on the couch, letting him fuck your mouth, letting those long, pretty fingers curl up inside of you – moaning around his cock when they stroke that perfect little spot.

“I wanted to – shit – take this slow,” he tells you as his hips jerk upwards, shuddering in breathless delight when his cock hits the back of your throat and it convulses around him. “I wanted to make you want me.”

Wet, messy, gags sound with every unwitting thrust – you’ve no choice but to swallow him down, let him fuck your throat like you’re nothing more than a toy for his pleasure. There’s saliva coating your chin, dripping down the length of his dick, pooling around his balls. You can barely breathe, a task made even harder when Oikawa decides to add his thumb into the mix, teasing your clit while he fucks you apart on his fingers.

It feels so fucking good, and you’ve never hated yourself more.

Your throat burns, hot tears stinging in the corners of your eyes, and yet he’s intent on driving you to the brink of your sanity with every calculated flick of his wrist. Something tightens in your belly, a spring coiled too tight, ready to snap, and you can’t help it when your hips chase his fingers, the needy, shameful little whimpers that leave your lips (still wrapped around his thick, twitching cock) as you search for the pleasure to temper the discomfort.

“You don’t have a clue what you do to me, do you? I could barely sleep last night–” 

You choke back a moan, your pussy clenching around his digits, sucking them deeper as white spots pepper your vision and you shudder out a moan.

“So pretty when you cum for me,” he pants, but you don’t care – can’t, not when you’re riding his fingers, tongue lolling out as he gives you a moment’s reprieve to bask in the rippling afterglow of your orgasm before everything comes crashing back down around you. 

Oikawa lets you fall back against the cushions, breathless, trembling and dazed. You’re not stupid enough to believe that’s the end of it, not when his cock’s still hard, throbbing against his toned stomach when he gives it a slow, cursory pump.

“Lie back, cutie,” he whispers, keeping his eyes fixed on you as he pushes himself up off the couch to shed the rest of his clothes.

And as you shuffle obediently downwards, heart hammering in your chest, you find you can’t tear your eyes away from him either.

Tall and handsome, she’d said, but the words truly don’t do him justice. A body corded with lean, powerful muscle, golden, sun-kissed skin, a light smattering of dark hair trailing from his navel down past the well defined V of his hips… 

“See something you like?” he teases, smirking when you squeak and childishly jerk your face away, cheeks burning. “It’s okay to look, you know. I don’t mind the attention.”

It feels too soft, too intimate for what this is. 

This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. He’s not supposed to be attractive, or to make you enjoy your own assault, and you– you’re supposed to fight it, fight him instead of just lying there and taking it… 

But when he climbs back onto the couch, easing your still trembling thighs apart to settle himself between them, his touch is nothing short of reverent, dark eyes wide and adoring as you squirm uneasily beneath him. 

With one hand braced on the cushion beside you, his cock resting just above your aching sex, he leans forward, easing your top up past your tits. “Perfect,” he murmurs.

And it’s enough to make a fresh bout of humiliated tears spring to your eyes. Your hands curl into useless fists at your side as he settles back onto his knees and takes his cock in hand, hissing in pleasure when he glides the flushed, leaking head along your slick folds.

“Fuck, cutie. I don’t think I’m gonna last,” he laughs, biting down on his bottom lip as he watches hot, fat tears slip down your cheeks. With an agonisingly slow pace, Oikawa lines himself up with your cunt and presses in – even with how wet you are, one orgasm already wrung from you, the stretch burns and you can’t stop the choked gasp that leaves you.

His eyes flutter shut, head thrown back back as inch by inch his cock sinks into your pussy until finally he bottoms out with a satisfied groan. “Perfect for me, so fucking good,” he pants, and you barely have time to drag in a breath before his hips are drawing back, another desperate, strangled mewl escaping you.

Bruising fingers dig into your waist, Oikawa cursing as your plush little cunt flutters maddeningly around him– before he eagerly slams his cock forward, stuffing you full once more.

And as you sob and whimper between every wet, obscene squelch of his dick fucking into your soaked pussy, that all too familiar, shameful heat begins to pool in your core.

“Gonna cum for me again, cutie?”

[whosjunglejim4322]

Best friends brother!Johnny

Warnings: voyeurism, jerking off, blonde johnny bc yes this is a fair and just warning, spitting, inexperienced (of age) reader, finger fucking, teary eyed orgasm

You know it's wrong, on so many levels. You should retreat back to the room, should leave him to do whatever it is he's doing. But it's as if he did it on purpose, cracking his door open after hearing your footsteps and rummaging downstairs as you fixed yourself a glass of water.

It had been closed when you passed previously, warm light illuminated underneath the door, from somewhere inside his room.

There's always been a...tension, for lack of better term, between the two of you for about two years now. It's incredibly hard to not seem so obvious around him, with his plush pink lips and tall, lithe frame. He'd purposely make eye contact with you during dinners or movies, just to watch you squirm and look away, cheeks hot.

Its not fair, he carries a tangible aura around him, the type that makes your belly warm and heat spread throughout your inner thighs. Maybe it's a crush, or simply just you, being irrationally attracted to a man who's pretty and definitely has big dick energy.

But still, you can't ignore the voice of reason that echoes in the back of your head as you fight the urge to sneak a peek, having heard soft, but purposeful expletives in a low voice that could only be his.

It's not even necessarily panick that you feel, inching closer and closer on the tips of your toes, your brain filled with vivid, fever inducing images of what he could possible be doing, even if it's already blatantly obvious.

A part of you wants to rationalize, but the other half has not even a hint of doubt that he's doing it on purpose, a cruel punishment of some sort.

Tonight he'd caught you staring a bit too hard, a bit too shamelessly. Your bestfriend and their parents were engrossed in a coversation after dinner, you and Johnny on opposite ends of the long grey couch.

He was wearing a black tee that fit snug around his biceps in an unmissable way, slim grey sweats on his bottom half that allowed his thick thighs, among other things, to be seen clear as day when he sat down.

As always, your gaze gravitated towards him like a magnet, pupils wide as you divulged in raking over his entire figure. From his tousled, and recently dyed golden hair, to his elegant yet sharp profile, and then lower. And lower. You were confident enough that everyone else was too distracted to notice, that he too was engrossed in the conversation being had.

But then you felt it, his eyes, burning holes into you. This time, when you met eachothers stare from where you were sat, something deranged and idiotic inside of you decided that you wouldn't look away this time, that if he wanted to play this game with you as he seemingly had been for the past couple years, that you'd play along too.

Something about it felt oddly safe, like, what? Your bestfriends older brother is going to rat you out and tell everyone that you're staring at him? Not likely.

So, you glanced from his lips and then back to his hooded eyes, something inside of him whirring at the small but obvious notion.

To your surprise, he was the first one to break. You had almost gasped, as if the whole time you'd been in a trance and forgotten where you were, who he really is. He cleared his throat, running his slim fingers through the front of his hair before standing, quickly.

"Feeling tired, gonna go to bed early."

He'd stated, politely yet in a manner that felt all too unusual in comparison to his usually steady, confident tone. No one else seemed to notice, but you definitely did. You felt stupid, staring at his broad back as he trotted to his room.

Once he was at the top of the staircase, you could have sworn he threw you a glance over his shoulder.

He didn't leave the room after that, and now here you are, being severely unhinged and deciding that it's a good idea to listen closely, and eagerly, to the pants coming from behind his door.

Maybe you're letting your fantasies get the best of you. What if he's not even doing that? As unpleasant as it is to think, what if all this time you've just been this hormonal mess around a person who is just existing as the sexy and somewhat flirty man that he is?

Afterall, he is effortless in nearly everything he does, it's not like it's hard for him to capture the attention of others. Maybe he's weirded out, what if it's all just in your hea-

"Fuuuck, Y/N."

Your eyes go wide, heart pounding so loudly you're almost scared he might hear it. You feel like every nerve in your body has been struck with a live wire.

There's no fucking way.

But then he moans again, louder this time, and you find your inhibitions almost completely disappearing as you saunter in the dark to a position where you can peek inside to get a clear look.

Nothing prepares you for the sight, not the thoughts your subconcious conjures up on nights where the need to relieve yourself becomes overwhelming.

He's so pretty, his head thrown back against his headboard, heart shaped lips parted and eyebrows furrowed in concentration. You don't even pay attention to what he's doing yet, too focused on the way his adams apple bobs as he swallows, the shape of his jaw.

But it's impossible to ignore the way his bicep is flexing under his minisrations, leading your eyes south to where his large hand is gripping the base of his thick shaft.

Fuckfuckfuck.

He's big, the tip slightly darker than the rest, almost plum in hue. You can't take your eyes off of his long fingers, the way they're wrapped around his dick. You wonder how it would feel if it were you, jerking him off like this, being the source of his guttural groans.

It's just all so filthy, the sounds, the way he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth.

You feel slick between your thighs, overwhelmed at the sight of his manhood that surpasses any and every expectation that your daydreams have created, deciding to watch his face again and tuck the memory of his lewd expressions into the back of your mind for later use.

But it's as if your heart stops, when you lift your gaze to see that he's already staring right at you, eyes lowly lidded and indescribably dark as he continues to jerk himself off.

It feels surreal, like maybe this is all a dream and you'll wake up soon and greet him in the kitchen during breakfast or something and all of this will just be another reason to be overwhelmingly nervous around him.

But it is real, in fact you're sure of it because that's his voice, clear and resonant calling your name, beckoning you with a lascivious, yet welcoming cadence.

"Come here."

Your feet move on their own accord, brain not yet in sync with your body, still trying to comprehend the fact that this is all really happening.

You know you look nervous, bewildered as you step into his room, a room you've seen and snuck into many times before with your bestfriend to steal vinyls from his collection. Except now, said bestfriends older brother is stroking his dick while you suddenly rethink being so overly confident earlier tonight.

You instinctively close the door, too worried about someone seeing despite the fact that your bestfriends room is on the other side of the house, his parents on the first floor.

You realize as soon as it clicks shut, that you've solidified it; whatever is about to happen. Though you're not as scared as you thought you'd be, more so fascinated and unbearably aroused as you approach him where he's sat on the bed.

He pats the space between his legs, just below his knees as to not make you apprehensive or nervous. You do so, eyes wide with curiosity and exhilaration. You fold your legs underneath yourself, heart hammering from behind your ribcage as you sit.

"You know," He begins lowly, hand still wrapped around his hard cock, stroking slowly, as if he has all the time in the world. As if this whole thing is as casual as eating dinner together. "It's rude to work me up so much and then not even say hello while you're spying on me."

Your cheeks burn, gut twisting with a mixture of arousal and embarassment. You look everywhere but his eyes, knowing they're on you, examining your every expression.

"I-I'm sorry I wasn't trying to spy, I just heard you and-"

He interrupts with an amused chortle, loving every minute of your shy fidgeting.

"And what? Just had to look, huh? I knew you would, always had eyes for me," He states in a manner that has your sex throbbing between your legs. "You were really bold tonight, I mean look how hard you made me baby, could barely stand it."

You can't resist peering up at him through your lashes now, his countenance hungry and full of desire; it almost has you whining, the source of your sexual frustration sitring right in front of you professing that you're the reason his dick is being fisted in his palm.

"I didn't even know that you thought of me like that, to be honest."

He chuckles, head cocking to the side ever so slightly.

"I do, I have for a while now, after I knew for sure that you felt the same way. You think you're so slick, staring at me like that."

His hand quickens in pace and you finally find some courage within yourself, his admittance leaving you slightly breathless but the comfort of his room and the quiet of the house allowing for an appropriate atmosphere.

As appropriate as this could be.

"Johnny, I want to touch you."

It almost comes out as a whisper, you can see him swallow.

"Go ahead baby, you can touch me."

Your fingertips trace the inside of his thighs before you hesitantly grasp his dick in your hands, disbelief clouding your senses at the realization of what's happening, and that it can't be taken back now. Not that you want it to.

You take mental notes of the moment, the softness of his golden skin, the slight stickiness of his precum and the curve of his length. It's so pretty upclose.

His own hand is suddenly wrapping around yours, dwarfing it completely as he shows you the pace he enjoys, the contact causing you to squeeze your thighs together.

"Just like that," He bites down on his plump bottom lip, a flutter of heat suddenly rushing between your legs. "Have you ever done this before?"

He removes his hand but keeps it close to yours, allowing you to work as you shake your head in a silent confession.

"Are you okay with this? Really?"

You both regard eachother with a shared gaze, the softness of his voice giving you more butterflies than you'd like to admit.

"Yes, yes I'm really okay with it."

At this you pick up the pace, twisting your hand in the same manner you saw him demonstrate earlier, taking pride in the groan that leaves his throat. You feel like you're on fire, but in a good way.

"Y-You moaned my name earlier." You state, free hand wandering over the thighs you've dreamt of riding, and over his agile hips. His skin is silky.

He hums in admittance, cock twitching.

"I was thinking about you, about this. I've been cumming to the thought of you more often recently."

Fuckfuckfuckfuck.

Your surprise must be written all over your face, his arm reaching out towards you, smooth knuckles caressing your sweltering cheek.

More often, as in, he's done it before. As in, you haven't been the only one fantisizing. It feels like your head is spinning.

"You're really so clueless, don't even realize how fuckin' horny you make me."

He bucks into your fist, your senses becoming overwhelmed. It's the arousal fogging your brain that finally leads you to speaking more than just a few words per sentence.

"I just wasn't sure, I spend more time than I'd like to admit thinking of all the things I want you to do to me, all the things I want to do to you," Your palm twists over his tip, his mouth slightly agape as he listens with rapt attention.

"Your dick is much prettier in person, you should feel how wet I am right now."

It feels as if you've just run a mile, out of breath. A bead of pearlescent precum cascades down his frenulum.

"Can I?" He asks, the strain in his rough voice evident. You nod eagerly, gasping as he suddenly reaches out and clasps his large hands just under your arms, to pull you onto his lap, sitting you on his thighs.

"Open your hand for me sweetheart."

You do as he asks, worked up beyond belief and even more so as he purses his lips and spits into your palm.

You're gripping him again as he cups your pussy through your leggings, middle finger tracing your slit through the thin material. It's a foreign feeling, having someone else touch you so intimately; you're not prepared for the surge of desire that washes over you.

He senses this in the way your wrist slows, rythym faltering just slightly. You pick it back up as he slips his hand past your waistband, the warmth of his digits against your slick folds all too much to bear.

You let out a soft mewl, and he slips his middle finger inside of your warm, welcoming walls, sucking in air through his teeth as your slick coats the digit.

He begins to thrust into you in time with the pace you stroke his cock, the sticky sounds of your wetness driving him more wild than it does when he's picturing it inside of his head.

The moment is so vivid, for both if you. His fingers are so much longer than your own, skilled and curling inside of you as his middle digit nudges your cervix. The pressure of him rubbing your sweet spot has you barely holding your eyes open.

"Feels good, sweetheart? You like when I finger fuck you?"

You're fully in it now, senses overtaken with a yearning, a need. You're already so gone yet irrevocably present, the depravity in his voice causing a knot of desire to swirl in the pit of your abdomen.

"Y-Yes I love your fingers J-John- oh!"

You hiccup your words as he adds another finger, his eyes glossed over with astonishment at how wet you are, coating his silver rings and soaking his palm.

"You love em' huh?" He uses his free hand to wrap around your throat, gently but firmly, forcing you to look down at him. The knot of his eyebrows and the parting of his lips is enough to have you twitching around him.

You're using your fist to fuck just his tip now, as you've noticed even despite the haze of your arousal how he's more sensitive there. You wonder if he's as close as you are, as he suddenly pulls you down to his parted lips, pressing your mouth to his.

This feeling is different, it's blissful in an agonizing way. Your body is tingling all over, the pleasure reaching a sweltering peak. He pulls back but doesn't move his lips from yours, delivering slow and sloppy pecks as he speaks.

"I want you to fucking cum, show me what you do when you touch your little pussy to the thought of me."

It feels like you might cry, the sob you let out never reaching past your lips as he places his palm over your mouth; fingers fiercely fucking you through your orgasm. You notice he's cumming too when spurts of warmth drip down your fingers.

Still, he's so focused on you, the way you're writhing. Nothing will ever compare to this.

"Shh shh, that's it baby let it go, fucuuuck-" he grits through his teeth, unbearbly handsome face blurry through the tears that threaten to spill from your eyes.

Your thighs tremble atop his lap, his cock half hard and still in your hands. He slips his fingers from you and brings them to his mouth, tongue lapping at your release.

It has you twitching, underwear almost soaked through.

He finally removes his palm from your mouth just to kiss you again, sweetly and with a softness that gives you whiplash.

"I think I'm gonna steal you, from now on." He mumbles, after the two of you finally catch your breath. You can feel the corners of his mouth lift as you hum in agreement.

"Guess I'll have to stay the night more often." You reply, nibbling on his plump bottom lip. You can hardly believe any of this really just happened.

He grasps your jaw.

"Only if I can have you again for breakfast."

[slytherbun]

jeep

pairing: adam ruzek x reader

summary: in which an innocent day becomes dirty when your boyfriend adam makes a move on you in the car.

word count: 1.4k

warning adam being...well, adam with sexual content.

requested by inactive that used wheel game. (car sex)

note: i don't know what to say about this. let me describe it with though this emoji...🥵

edited note: wheel game is inactive now. <3

you and adam have been dating for a month and were still apart of that beginning obsessive phase where you couldn't keep your hands off of each other.

you were partners for two years before that and currently the case had closed and the two of you were in the grey jeep that he just pulled into the back of the precinct parking lot.

when adam pulled into a spot towards the back corner, you unbuckled your seatbelt and turned so you were on your knees in the seat.

you leaned forward to grab your coat in the backseat since it was chilly this evening and the famous chicago winter was approaching.

adam watched your every move and licked his lips at the sight. you had on your favorite pair of jeans that fit you like a glove and the curves from your hips were in plain view of his eyesight.

he quietly unbuckled his seatbelt so he didn't alarm you and leaned over closer to the middle console that separated your two seats. 

as quickly as adam could, he spanked the palm of his hand right over your whole butt. you bit your bottom lip to hold in a moan.

"adam!" you squealed and turned around. in the process your hair whipped across his face. 

you noticed what happened and sucked your lips in, trying not to laugh. when you sat back down in the seat, you put your fingers through your hair. desperately trying to fix the mess that was made so you didn't have too many knots later.

adam saw your obvious struggle at the unfortunate hair incident and couldn't help but chuckle. "guess i deserved that." he teased.

"guess so." you grinned and he rolled his eyes playfully. "you weren't supposed to agree."

"but adam," you drawed out his name. "hmm?" he questioned and leaned forward to place his hand on your thigh, already knowing where this was going.

"you know exactly what you're doing even when you try to act all innocent." he stayed silent at your confession to see if you'd challenge him. instead, he hummed as if he was confused about the current exchange. 

you sighed and rubbed your thighs together to relieve some tension. he watched your every move and muttered "fuck it," before he leaned over and moved your thighs open.

"what did i tell you?" adam asked almost in a growl. "i don't know what you're talking about." you smirked, using his words against him. adam made a 'hmm' sound at your response and leaned back into his seat.

you raised an eyebrow in his direction and he put his hands out, gesturing a 'have at it' wave and your eyes immediately widened with the fact that he tapped out.

he smirked at your baffled expression and shrugged and put his hand through his hair. his fingertips brushed the hair to the side, to fix the part with the longer strands.

"how about this. if you play with your pussy and come, you can ride me."

you couldn't decline his offer. after all, this was payback from the other day when you didn't let him finish during a blowjob. he'd been teasing you all day today and you had enough of it.

"okay." you said simply and pulled your dress up to flash him with the lacy panties that you were glad you picked out today.

adam cursed under his breath and slightly adjusted the tight pants that he liked to wear. you noticed his subtle fix and smirked while pulling aside the lace.

the cold air blowing from the vent reached your pussy and you shivered from the feeling below. splaying your fingers on your clit, you moaned softly at the feeling and started to rub.

after you found a pace to work with, you used your other hand to reach up and cup your tit. 

adam loved them so of course you had to use his weakness against him. "fuck." you whispered when your abdomen started to tingle and tighten.

"do you like playing with yourself or do you like it better when my fingers touch you?" he asked and you broke out of the trance of pleasure to glance over and see his cock out. 

adam glanced over your body. your hair was a mess and frizzy against the seat of the car. he could see little drops of sweat across the middle of where your scrunched brows met. your nipples were out, budded and hard. 

he could see the wetness from your fingertips and his mouth watered, wishing he was between your thighs instead of your hand.

he must of unzippered himself while your eyes were closed and focused on passing a current forming orgasm. 

the sight of his glistening precum sent you over the edge. "you." was all you could say before you finished all over your fingers.

adam groaned, a little jealous you finished without needing him but he still didn't regret the choice made. "put your fingers in my mouth."

you leaned, closing in on his space and the two fingers that were used disappeared in his mouth. you watched him suck them, his tongue taking in every drop and your eyes dilated.

he finally released them what seemed a slow eternity later with a pop and you smirked at the noise. "that's the noise that sounds like when i just finished sucking your dick." 

adam narrowed his eyes at you for the teasing comment and patted his lap. "come here and take your reward, sweet girl." you nodded, pleased at the nearing end of the proposition.

somehow, you fumbled around and over the console in the car before you were comfortably hovered over his erection. 

your clit throbbed needing to take some tension off and knew you were close to his long, thick member. 

"come on baby. sit down on me." adam encouraged, knowing you needed to be sweetened up to fall over the edge of bliss.

without warning, you hooked your panties aside again and sank down on him slowly. his velvet head disappeared inside your pussy. 

his teeth clenched at the overwhelming feeling. he almost wanted to push your hips down all the way on him but he held out.

inch by inch disappeared while your hands gripped his shoulders, nails digging in his back. the intense euphoria was all too much but a moment later you bottomed out on top of him and moaned.

"shit y/n please hurry up and move." he groaned with his hands wrapped around your ass, fingers pressed into the skin and probably making marks. 

you pulled your body up, releasing his cock but not so he fell out before you went back down again so his pelvis met yours.

he pulled you up again by his grip then pushed you back down quickly in an almost aggressive manner. "adam more," you begged, leaning down to rest your head against his.

he took your plea and used that motivation to grip your hips more steadily before moving you up and down at a quicker pace. 

your hips met his thighs every other second. his cock pounded into you rough and harshly and you gasped in pleasure.

"fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck." you practically chanted. you were so close to finishing, he threw you like a doll up and down on his length, working your hole for his own agenda of an ultimate orgasm.

you blew out a breath to try and get strands of hair away that stuck to your face but they just stayed while he continued to hit every vulnerable spot inside of you.

he started to rub your clit and you almost jolted out of place from the sensitivity. he wanted to feel you tighten around him and mix your come with his. 

adam got his wish and finally, he spilled inside your pussy while you milked his every drop.

he fixed your panties, looping them back around you comfortably again before placing you down softly. 

he rested you against his chest and laced his arms around your waist. you caught your breath, while adam was still practically heaving against you and you giggled.

"what?" he asked you after feeling your back moving from the laughing fit. "i'm sorry it's not funny but the saying about leaving someone breathless." you trailed off and he got the gist of your joke and he slapped your ass again.

"oh!" you moaned, cheeks flushing at the fact you were turned on again even though his cum was still making its way out of you. 

he smirked. "that's what i thought."

[tyonfs]

dress up.

❝ i was trying on something. could you tell me if you like it? ❞

PAIRING ▸ mark lee x reader

WARNINGS ▸ dirty talk, raw sex (pls use protection), overstimulation

WORD COUNT ▸ 2000 words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ this was a request from anon for a frat boy!mark smut! i sort of ran with it, but i love mark lee so it was fun to write ♡

IN RETROSPECT, MARK WAS A BIT OF A CLICHE.

Being a frat boy, athlete, and unfortunately, a bit of a heartbreaker, it was inevitable that he would be classified as bad news. Add you to the equation and he was the physical manifestation of a typical rom-com trope. He figured it was supposed to be you chasing after him, but the fact that it was the other way around took a slight blow to his confidence.

But that didn’t stop him from pursuing you.

And here he was, anticipating your presence on a Friday night at a frat party. He hung onto some false sense of hope that kept him from consuming any alcohol, despite Taeyong and Johnny’s attempts to get him to drink. You and Mark had been flirting for a while now, but neither of you had made a move on each other. Mark was hoping that would change tonight.

“C’mon, Ma-ark,” his friend, Na Jaemin, slurred. “You gotta let loose. Take a shot with me.”

“Jaemin, you’re sloshed, dude. Also, I won’t until—”

A notification flashed across his phone screen, the banner name displaying your name. Mark’s cheeks heated up, his mouth going dry as he stared at his phone for a moment. He turned it off and then on again, checking to make sure the notification was real. He sank back into the couch to make sure only he had eyes on his phone screen.

you: mark

you: you up?

mark: of course. what’s up?

you: i was trying on something

you: could you tell me if you like it?

mark: oh fuck

mark: yeah, go ahead

A few minutes passed by and Mark’s heart was racing. He stared at the texts again, wondering if this was really happening, then cringing at the realization that he had actually sent an “oh fuck” when it was supposed to be confined to his thoughts. Without giving Mark any warning or time to brace himself, you sent the picture.

There was something about mirror pictures that drove Mark crazy. Seeing you posing in front of a full-length mirror with black lingerie hugging your curves and a mini pleated skirt that barely covered the swell of your ass was giving him a hard-on. He wasn’t sure he could contain himself and this shocking development between you two was messing with him.

Mark grabbed a pillow from the couch and placed it shamefully on his lap. No one was paying attention to him anyways, but he had to take extra precautions.

mark: fuck are you wearing that rn?

mark: god, you’re driving me crazy

you: if that’s the case then why don’t you come over?

mark: now?

you: you know where my apartment is

you: i’ll be waiting ♡

Mark got up in an instant and made his way to the door. He had to have saved someone in his past life for this sort of luck. He was caught up in disbelief that you, the girl of his dreams, had made a move on him. There were plenty of girls that Mark had gotten caught up with in the past, but none of them had ever made his heart race like you did.

Johnny stopped Mark before he got to the door, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Whoa, where are you running off to?”

“Oh, shit, I forgot to ask.” Mark grinned, insufferably cocky. “Do you have a condom?”

Johnny’s eyes practically sparkled, digging into his pockets upon his best friend’s request. “Attaboy.”

You looked straight out of one of Mark’s fantasies when you opened the door and let him in. It wasn’t even the short skirt or the lingerie peeking through that got to him. What sent him over the edge was Mark’s sweater over your body; it was oversized on you, but Mark knew it looked better on you than it ever could on him. Mark had given it to you a few weeks ago when you were cold, but he never expected to be the one taking it off of you.

“Hey, frat boy,” you teased, then pouted lightly. “I’m sorry for making you wait so long.”

Mark snapped out of his daze and walked in the apartment as you closed the door behind him. “Wait?”

You tugged at the hem of his shirt and Mark took the cue. He grabbed the back of his shirt at the nape, tugging it off and tossing it to some corner of the room, exposing his bare chest and abs. He let out a hiss through gritted teeth as you ran your hands down his chest and to his belt.

“Wait for me,” you explained. “I just wanted to get you so worked up so you could ruin me.”

That was all Mark needed to hear.

He picked you up effortlessly and brought you to your bed, dropping you down on it and crawling on top of you. He caged your frame with his larger one and crashed his lips onto yours. It was messy and rushed, but so full of passion and longing. Mark poured out his emotions and frustration into kissing you, running his hands down your gorgeous body as you arched your back against him.

“God, I’ve been wanting to do this for months,” he growled when he pulled from the kiss, moving his lips down to your neck. When he heard a soft moan escape your lips, he started sucking harsher, blooming dark hickies along the side of your neck. “I’m gonna make you wish you never made me wait.”

You wrapped a leg around his torso, which he appreciated, if a smooth roll of his hips was anything to go by. But you wanted more—more contact and more friction. You curled your fingers in his belt loops and pulled him down on you.

Mark sat up, pulling you up along with him. He adored your beauty for a moment before tugging his sweater up and off of you. A grunt escaped his lips at the sight of your body, lace lingerie still hugging it. He stuttered out a curse before he kissed you again, tugging your skirt down your legs, which you kicked off.

“Leave the lingerie on,” he ordered, a hungry look in his eyes. He slid his finger underneath the strap along your thigh and snapped it, making you wince. “I can’t let all your efforts go to waste after you dressed up for me, doll.”

“Please, Mark,” you begged, wrapping your arms around his neck, “I want you to stuff your cock in me.”

Mark went to take off his pants in less than a second. You watched him strip down, his bulge not doing much to hide the fact that he was huge. You realized that that cockiness of his is completely warranted. You helped him tug his boxers down, a soft gasp escaping your lips when his cock sprung out, slapping against belly.

Mark gazed into your eyes as he slid his hand up your thigh, making his way to the apex of your legs. He tugged your panties to the side, delighted at how it clung to you. He’d truly be a happy man if he could have you underneath him every day for the rest of his life. Mark slid two fingers against your slit, smirking at how wet you were already.

“Is this for me?” he cooed as your hips bucked up into his touch.

You nodded, eager to just have him in you. You were all for foreplay, but your walls were throbbing with how much pent-up sexual frustration you were experiencing. There were so many opportunities after tonight, but right now, you needed Mark.

Mark suspended himself over you, propping himself up with an arm. He hooked his fingers under the elastic of your panties and teased your slit with the head of his cock. A whimper escaped your lips.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked.

You pressed a kiss to the column of his neck. “Of course.”

Mark’s Adam’s apple bobbed; he was nervous. He was about to fuck the girl of his dreams, so how could he possibly be calm? But when you gave him that dazzling smile of yours, his heart thundered in his chest. He needed you.

He slowly entered you, eyes fixed on your face with rapt attention, indulging in the expressions you were making. For someone so sly and teasing, you had become pliant under his grasp, like a handful of clay that Mark could mould into his own liking.

“Mark,” you whined in an almost depraved way.

“Fuck,” he groaned once he was fully inside of you, your walls pulsating around him.

He started at a languid pace so he could adjust to you. To his satisfaction, you were vocal during sex; you moaned, whimpered, and gasped out Mark’s name whenever he thrusted into you. You were also so damn tight that the slightest movement made you tighten around Mark’s cock.

He held your thighs with a bruising grip as you pressed your breasts up against his chest. Your head went fuzzy as Mark pounded into that one spot mercilessly. But god, the way he growled out your name under his breath as your hips slapped against each other each time was sending you over the edge.

Your nails dug into his back, leaving trails of white-hot pain that compelled Mark into thrusting harder into you. He grinned, a little unhinged, and sped up at the encouragement of your moans. The way he looked at you when he thrusted, though, was so fragile; he found you so heartbreakingly gorgeous, and it didn’t help that he was falling deeper and deeper in love with you.

“Mark!” you cried as you were reaching your high.

He could get lost in the way his name tumbled from your lips. He slowed down his thrusts in exchange for deeper ones that brought you closer to your climax. Mark kissed you again, slower and more passionate. It was somewhat out of place given the magnitude of what you two were doing, but it confirmed for you that he didn’t just want you for sex.

You squealed out his name again, the pressure blinding you. You clenched around him as you came undone, shooting stars flashing behind your eyelids. Mark fucked you through your orgasm without any semblance of mercy. You crooned out a few broken moans, eyes half-lidded as you held onto Mark, your release dripping down his cock.

“Look at me,” he ordered, dark eyes clouding over. He could hardly keep his release at bay, but when you looked up at him with those innocent, doe-like eyes, it became impossible. “God, are you even real? You’re so fucking gorgeous.”

Mark gritted his teeth, a strangled groan leaving his throat as he pulled out and released over you. His cum spilled over your thighs, staining the lingerie you had worn just for him. Mark was completely out of breath so he collapsed next to you, rolling over so he could hold you in his arms. You happily complied, cuddling up to his warmth.

“Please don’t let that be a one-time thing,” Mark murmured in your ear, brushing aside strands of your hair.

“Maybe if you let me be your girlfriend,” you said with a smile, making Mark go wide-eyed.

“Really?” He couldn’t conceal the happiness behind his words.

“On one condition, though,” you said, closing your eyes as that feeling of his cum between your thighs. You reached for his pants that he had strewn aside beside you and reached into the pocket, pulling out the condom that Johnny had given him. “Use this next time.”

“Shit,” Mark mumbled.

You giggled at his reaction, but Mark only smiled brighter, embracing you tightly in his arms. He pressed a kiss against your forehead, cheek, and then your lips. He was a pure romantic when it came down to it, especially when it came to you.

“I also have a condition,” he said.

“Yeah?” you mused. “What is it?”

“Dress up for me next time.”

[cacoetheswriting]

hey!! i ADORED mutually assured attachemebt and was wondering if you’d do a part two? if not that’s totally okay but i loved the dynamic between bucky and reader in that fic and would love to read more about their relationship 😬

hi hello 👋🏼 thank you so so much, i'm really glad you liked it!! 💘 i really wanted to do a part two, but life got a little too hectic for me (im sorry)... you did however inspire me to still explore their relationship a bit more so i hope you enjoy this lil piece of writing!

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader warnings: mainly fluffy fluff and lovable idiots being idiots, set post Endgame and pre-TFATWS, neighbour!bucky, emotions/feelings, mutual pining, use of pet names (darlin'), a swear word or two, brief mentions of alcohol word count: 1.2k summary: bucky and reader watch the "stars", and get a little closer in the process.

a/n: this is technically a stand-alone piece, but in my mind (thanks to this lovely anon) it exists in the same universe as this fic 😜 i hope you like it!

-

Bucky stepped inside your apartment with a case of beer in hand; like he did almost every single evening since the two of you became friends. He was instantly greeted by a rather strange blue glow and about a million neon speckles.

Combined together they were reminiscent of a night sky.

“Do you like my new toy?” you asked proudly while closing the door behind him with a gentle thud. The corners of Bucky’s lips twirled upwards because only you would invest in something so ridiculous.

“Aren’t there enough stars outside?” he teased, placing the case of beer on your coffee table.

He slipped off his leather jacket with ease and made himself comfortable in the armchair you have both unspokenly decided was his spot in your home.

You couldn’t help but playfully roll your eyes, “I don’t know if you noticed, old man, but there aren’t many places left in New York city where you can actually see the stars.”

Bucky smirked at your comment, although he couldn’t argue. He’d be the first to know — and admit — how much the city has changed in the last 106 years.

“And I’ve adored the night sky ever since I was a kid so I recently opted to always be able to look at a fake one,” you quickly added with a light shrug after handing Bucky a beer and plopping down on the sofa across from him.

“Then you would love Wakanda. It has perhaps the most perfect night sky I’ve ever seen,” Bucky reminisced, slowly bringing the beer bottle to his lips and taking a long sip.

You raised a brow, a stupid grin circling your lips, “Are you offering to take me, old man? Just say the word. I swear I can be packed and ready to go in ehm—” you peeked at the watch on your wrist, adding to the theatrics, “—give or take ten minutes?”

The joyful expression illuminating your already faultless features caused Bucky’s heart to skip a beat.

If he was being honest with himself, it wasn’t an entirely new feeling. In fact, the warm sensation that spread through his whole body whenever he was around you, especially when he saw you smile, was becoming all too familiar. And strangely, he wasn’t complaining.

“One of these days, darlin’.”

His bright blue eyes locked with yours.

The air caught in your throat immediately, and your grin transformed into a timid smile. There was something different about the way he was looking at you in this moment, something almost… tender?

“I will definitely hold you to that,” you affirmed, breaking the quiet that cased around the room.

Bucky let out a lighthearted chuckle, “Oh, I don’t doubt you will.”

He took another sip of his beer and swallowed slowly, his Adam’s apple bobbing in the process, before glancing up at your luminous ceiling, “But in the meantime, I guess your fake stars will have to do.”

It was your turn to snicker.

Without saying another word, you hopped up on your feet and hurried out of the room. Bucky almost called after you, thinking he perhaps said something wrong, but you returned momentarily hugging a large blanket.

He watched you — slightly confused — as you moved the coffee table out of the way, almost spilling your beer in the process.

You placed the soft material on the floor, covering your rug, and proceeded to reach for a couple of throw pillows which were situated neatly on your sofa.

When you were finished, you briefly glanced up at Bucky and shot him a soft smile. The man returned the expression, the happy glimmer in your eyes causing his stomach to flip upside-down. He finished his beer while you lay down on the blanket, resting your head on one of the pillows. Gently, you patted the spot next to you and patiently waited for him to join you on the floor.

Bucky’s shoulder pressed against yours as he made himself comfortable and the unexpected physical contact caused the air to once again hitch in your throat for a split second. He noticed. Of course he noticed — after all, he was trained to pick up on these slight changes in people's body language — but out of respect to you, because he promised before not to analyse you, he chose not to say anything.

It probably didn’t mean anything anyway, right?

He swallowed his breath. No — definitely no — because that was not the type of relationship the two of you had. Even though, perhaps, it was the type of relationship he could see having with you.

The two of you silently observed the blue light reflecting through your living room.

Time seemed to stand still in that moment, in a way you wished it had. And as did Bucky, because truthfully he couldn’t remember the last time he felt this peaceful. You calmed him down, without the use of words, just being around you made him feel safe.

He liked it.

“If you squint really really hard—” Bucky lifted his metal arm ever so slightly and extended one finger, “—these few dots together look like the Lyra constellation,” he whispered as you carefully followed to where he was pointing, “Meaning the dot that’s just a little bigger than the rest could be Vega.”

You hummed a content sigh, a small smile circling your lips.

“What about that one?” you asked, playing along and pointing to some random neon speckles gracing your ceiling.

Bucky drew his tongue between his lips, fighting back a smile. “Hmm… it could be Aquila?”

“Aquila,” you repeated in a mere whisper, “I guess being 106 years old has it’s perks, hm? My knowledge of constellations starts with the Big Dipper and ends with the Little Dipper.”

The brunette man laughed, “My age has nothing to do with what I know about the stars, darlin’.”

“Sureeeee,” you teased him, “You mean to tell me you’ve never taken any ladies stargazing and impressed them with your constellation expertise? I mean, and I won’t lie to you, nothing says panty dropper like knowing where Aquila is.”

Bucky’s arm landed on his torso as he continued to laugh. The melodic sound was honestly intoxicating, it made you realise you had never heard — or seen — Bucky seem this lively and cheerful.

You liked it.

As the amusement died down, you tilted your head in his direction. To your pleasant surprise, Bucky was already looking at you.

Slowly — and almost hesitantly — he reached out his hand to gently brush away loose strands of your hair. All the blood rushed to your face the second his fingertips made contact with your skin, and the room fell completely silent then.

You instantly found yourself getting lost in his blue-eyes.

His perfect perfect blue-eyes.

Fuck.

“So— ehm,” Bucky cleared his throat, letting his hand fall back down, “Panty dropper, huh?” A corner of his mouth lifted and you smacked his bicep at the mocking tone of his voice, completely forgetting how you were now missing his touch from a split-second ago. Well… not… completely.

“Could it be your new superhero name?” you taunted him with a smirk, “If I’m honest, I think I prefer it to Winter Soldier,” you briefly stuck out your tongue at him, before sucking it back between your teeth.

The comment earned you an eye roll, “You’re unbearable, darlin’.”

”Bucky Barnes, the Panty Dropper.”

“Shut up.”

-

main masterlist

[red-doll-face]

Here is a request for slashers if they're open. My brain does a thing where I am affectionate w a person but if I get nudged away (even if it's just to readjust the position), it goes "oh no. They don't want u to touch them. Do not touch ever again or they will get mad at u. U disgust them." Even tho touch is my love language & it hurts, I just won't touch. If confronted, I will get confused & panicky cuz "u didn't want me to touch? Im respecting ur wishes? Did I miss something?" Its a mess.

Requests are indeed open, I’m sorry I take foreverrr to do these but i hope u enjoy! I don’t know what to call this tho. For simplicity’s sake I’m calling this nervous reader lmao, idk what else to call these.

Slashers x gn nervous Reader

Jason Voorhees:

Jason can very much relate to the feeling. When he first meets you, he’s sure that you’re frightened. He restrains from being too close to avoid coming off as overbearing, doesn't want to touch you because if you flinch he’ll be so hurt. He just assumes he disgusts you. Based on the reaction all of his other victims have when they see him, he’s sure you’ll probably be the same.

Once Jason is sure that you don't feel that way, he’s a cuddle monster. He wants to be close all of the time, holding hands, letting you sit in his lap, you name it. He’s so starved and quickly decides that touch is his love language too. He’s not even sure how he’s lived this long without it.

The only time I can see Jason maybe gently sort of setting you down elsewhere and walking off is when he senses strangers on the property of what once was Crystal Lake. He’s out the door before he can even see your hurt expression, Which is worse because this might lead you to jump to conclusions.

If you distance yourself from Jason, he immediately is thrown off. He can’t directly ask you if he’s done something wrong and when he tries to initiate affection with you and you don’t reciprocate whole heartedly, he’s at a loss.

He’ll get on one knee while you sulk on the couch and give you a silent plea to tell him what's wrong. You can panic and try and avoid it but he is certain there's something going on and he wants so badly to know what he’s done to put you off. You tell him and he immediately is shaking his head no, he could never be mad at you, never be disgusted with you. You’re the most breathtaking person he’s ever had the pleasure of holding, the first, most likely.

Jason nods because he understands how you feel. In the future, he’s persistent about how you feel when he untangles himself from you, making sure you’re ok.

Michael Myers:

In the later stages of your relationship, Michael is insatiable when it comes to being in contact with you. For a long time, towards the start of your relationship, he didn’t like it. It felt weird. All of the touch he's experienced prior was so clinical and sterile that he doesn’t quite know how good touch is supposed to feel. He’s so touch starved that he’s almost positive he doesn't even need it.

Slowly, he builds a tolerance for it, much like one does with alcohol, constantly checking his boundaries and letting him control the situation and he’s all for movie night, huddled up on the couch, or waking up with his head on your chest. His own personal pillow.

There are, however, moments when his need to make someone tremble with fear and then blodgeon them to death with a can opener from their own kitchen becomes too strong, so he tries to keep away from you. In the past, he might have used you to satisfy similar desires of a sexual nature and may have really hurt you but he knows that it’s not always enjoyable to you.

Then, you stop touching him. Much like Jason, he starts to think you’ve become sick of him. Sick of his coldness, his muteness, his withdrawn demeanor. Maybe you���ve moved on and he tries to tell himself he doesn’t care but he doesn't think he can see himself touching anyone but you now.

It gets to the point where he comes home one day and you look heavily troubled, expressions he’s seen on your face before, only in the event that something terrible has happened. You ask to speak to him and he obliges.

You explain that you don’t think this relationship is working, that you’re pretty sure he’s disgusted with you and how difficult this event is because you didn't even want to talk about it but it's been hurting you for too long.

His response is to stand up very slowly, pick you up and lay down with you over him, simply laying there. Hopefully, knowing you’re the one person he would ever allow to participate in this intimacy is enough to show you that you mean more than you think you do to him.

RZ Michael Myers:

This Michael is more perceptive to your touch than his counterpart, your touch sends little shivers down his spine and as soon as he gets pretty used to it, he’s eager for more. This also takes some time but significantly less. He’s enamored with the idea of returning to a somewhat normal life. Your affection grounds him in that fantasy as much as being a murderer might take him out of it.

As he establishes a relationship with you, he may even be the one to start touching you instead of the other way around. He’s read books and always wondered what it might feel like to have someone genuinely touch him without fear in their eyes. Without malice.

An unsuccessful ‘day at work’ might have Michael feeling a little het up though. He can be moody and more rageful. Neither you nor his hobbies can calm him. He seems colder than usual in these states and can come off as very standoffish.

So when you try and touch him and he shrugs your hand off his shoulder, he can’t or isn't in the state of mind to address your frown and worried look. Michael, instead stomps off somewhere to be alone for a while; maybe take his anger out on something else. Some unsuspecting soul or maybe even a poor animal in the wrong place at the wrong time.

After he’s calmed down some, he returns and almost forgot about that sad little gleam in your eye before he left. Michael remembers when he sees you blankly staring at the TV, pointedly avoiding his gaze even as you utter a weak welcome home. It’s not very welcoming. He sits stiffly beside you, watching you from the corner of his eye. You’re closed off from him and he doesn't like it at all.

Migrating towards you slowly, he eases you into a familiar hug, his big bear hugs that are a little tight but inviting all the same. His huge torso and long arms seem to swallow you in his warmth. You hardly reciprocate. You look a little surprised. Though he never addresses it verbally, (which is probably better for you) Michael offers a single glance that communicates everything he needs to say. Don't ever think that again.

Thomas B. Hewitt:

Thomas’ self esteem issues and self image are not good. He honestly doesn’t like to imagine what he looks like to other people unless it can be as a threatening man you don’t fuck with. Meeting you, he realizes that it’s good to protect his family but he’d rather you not see him as someone only capable of harm. Tries his best to get the point across that while Hoyt may be adamant that horrible things happen to you, he’s not going to let them.

Thomas has received affection but always a familial affection. A pat on the back from Monty, proud claps to his shoulders from uncle Charlie, and hugs and kisses from his dear Mother. Nothing so foreign as a strangers touch over his arm or a soft embrace.

Unfortunately, Thomas can get reactive when you attempt to touch him without his mask on. He’s absolutely settled on the false reality that you’ll see his face and immediately decide that you never want to touch him again. Interacting with you with his bare face? That's a no for Thomas.

He puts on his mask that covers the scarred skin over his face and you look dejected. He was preparing for you to pressure him but instead finds himself trying to find out why you won’t touch him now. It’s not his face, is it? You respond with your reasoning. Thomas is so confused. How could you think that you disgust him? That he doesn’t want you to touch him?

He’s quicker than the others and immediately sweeps you up into his arms and holds you as close as humanly possible. Feeling disgusting and like some sort of burden is a feeling he’s so familiar with and if he can take it away from you, he will.

Will aggressively initiate touch with you for the next week or so just to solidify the fact that he cares about you and won't reject you just as you didn’t reject him.

Bubba Sawyer:

Bubba is a great cuddle buddy and partner. Hugs are his favorite and he hugs his brother all the time, lifting both Nubbins and Chop Top into the air for some brotherly love. If you’re smaller than them he’s all about picking you up and perhaps a little rough housing with you. He’s careful though or at least there are attempts made to be careful

Bubba, though he could easily spend the whole day doing nothing and everything with you, has work. Chores, butchering. Cooking, and tending livestock. Plenty to do at the sawyer house and he does most of it. Suffice to say there are times when you want to lather attention all over him yet he has to go back to work.

So caught up in work that he doesn't get what's going on til way later, when you’ve had time to stew in your emotions, firmly telling yourself that Bubba is annoyed by you probably. He’s baffled and confused at your silence, your crossed arms. The little furrow in your brow. He can already tell there’s something upsetting you.

Honestly, Bubba is so affectionate I can’t see him being the kind of person even capable of alluding to the fact he might be disgusted by you. How, if all he wants to do is love you? You may bring it up as a joke that you thought he didn’t like you and he almost seems offended. Not like you?

Bubba can squash any feelings you may have about that and then some. He will not let you drown in insecurities, not on his watch. This man will do everything in his power to make you feel beautiful because you really are.

I’m sorry these are super long but thanks for requesting!

[tth-pdf]

Burning for love; JJK [02]

Contents: Smut, like a little heavy, but just a little, this just started, dirty talk, supernatural, romance, fluff and another painfully unedited chapter.

Pairing: Werewolf!alpha!jungkook x Omega!reader

Summary: A handsome man is hunting you in the dreams world, making every day more difficult to repress the need to come and find him in the middle of the night to submit yourself to his every wish.

Requests: ON

A/N: Hello little ones, I’m really sorry about this chapter because don’t know if this is what you were waiting for but mainly for the time that I promised before but it actually took me more than I thought and this is a tiny bit longer than what I was used to, so hope this makes something for you, thank you for reading! 😭😭😔😔🥺🥺💖💖

Jungkook wasn’t feeling himself that day and the fact that he did’t really knew what was happening with his mind was not really great, all that plus that attitude of yours adopted after knowing the truth behind the bond between your (by that time) unknown mate, so after that one and only night that you let him have you for himself and just himself he knew that he would never had enough of you. Ever since he was just a little pup learning how to shift, watching you so timid, behind your mom’s legs, smaller in size than him and afraid that you wouldn’t be able to have friends, but in fact every single one of the pups around you wanted to be your friend, your glow was just like that, so attracting even as a kid but sometimes you were a little overwhelmed with the attention, almost on the verge of tears, even at that time, being so little old he would feel the need to drop everything he was doing and just held you, maybe a little kiss on the cheek, but just with you, he would cringe if he had to kiss other girls cheek, he wanted to protect you. So his mother knew before himself, and she would just watch with heart eyes, eventually she would explain to him the paths that the moon weaves on her own to reunite two souls destined to be one, and he thought he was dreaming, but he had to wait, until you were ready. You were always good friends, not too close since you were still too shy, just enough to let him scent you every now and then, let him walk you home and even held your hand in the way to end with just a tiny hug but he started to grow up and since he was two years older than you he presented as an alpha first, he had to learn what a heat was, the pain of being incapable of touching you and showing you how much he wanted to spend his life with you, the pain that caused by having you so close but so far away. His mother and father were watching with concern and living the difficulties with him, everything was tolerable until Jungkook turned eighteen, his wolf becoming stronger and more demanding, clawing at him to come and get you but a little part of his brain reminded him that you were only sixteen and not prepared yet, so his parents, with the intention of distracting his mind sent him away to a camp were other future pack leaders trained to make the best of their abilities and it actually worked, but when he was back, a year and a half later, you being a young lady with new fucking aromas, it felt like you were a damn drug, your hormones changed and you were almost ready, but he couldn’t do anything about his desire so he walked away from you and you thought that he hated you, that somehow he changed his mind about you all this time by himself but boy, you couldn’t be more wrong. You tried, you really tried, tried to forget about how he scented you, kept an eye on you in case you would need help, little gazes around, expressing something without the need of words, tried to forget his puppy eyes and that pretty smile of his, not even mentioning the protective bubble that somehow he manages to create for you, but when you thought that every little detail was finally out of your mind your omega blood kicked you in the ribs and the dreams started to come and go, your mind understanding all the feelings that you had with him, but you didn’t wanted it that way, you wanted to be paired with someone simple, just like you, not really wanting to be the center of attention and being with Jungkook just meant getting hateful glances from the pretty omegas around, Jungkook was wanted in more that one way and transporting both of your thoughts to right now, this moment, you wrapped around his hard body as if your life depended on it, reminded you that after all you would be the one he held at the end of the day, always.

It’s to this point that you don’t have idea how both of you ended in what you supposed is his room or at least a place where he spends a lot of time, judging only by the incredible and strong scent of him everywhere.

“Don’t worry my pretty angel, I built this place just for you. I knew since the very first moment I laid eyes on you that you will be mine and a good alpha is the one who takes good care of his omega, right?”

If your mind was gone before now you feel like floating, but at the same time all that’s in your mind is him, him, him and him alone.

He’s caressing your cheek while he’s talking, the timbre of his voice like silk hugging your sense of hearing, your sense of touch screaming for you to past your fingertips between his silky hair strands and to trace his lips, your sense of taste aching to know every single one of his flavors and your sense of smell… Oh hell, that blessing of a powerful sense of smell, sometimes a blessing and sometimes a curse, but right now there’s nothing more pleasant for the omega blood running through your veins than that, you wish you could melt with him, right now you feel like its not enough, even with you straddling him, nose buried deep in his scent gland and rubbing yourself on him.

“Pretty girl is having a hard time, isn’t she, where do you want me to touch, huh, honey?”

You couldn’t wait any longer so instantly after he finished that words your hand took his to tease yourself a little, closed eyes while you traveled his hand in the middle of your chest, down your tummy and finally over your hot and aching center.

“Gods above, I swear I can smell every little detail, have I triggered your rut sweet baby?”

You felt like simple jello between the fingers of your seductive lover.

“You want me to rub you over all this layers of clothes, don’t you want me to use my mouth on this glorious cunt of yours, knock you up with a healthy litter of pups, with this amazing tits to drink from, gods, such a dream for your alpha”

There wasn’t any rational thoughts in your mind right now, everything was kind of too much, the roughness of the sheets under both of you, the roughness of his fingers, everything was too hot.

“You made me wait so long for you. My little omega does not have idea of the pain I used to feel just by seeing you smile and blush, felt like a sin to me, smelling like one too”

By the time he’s saying that he was changing positions kneeling you right in front of his pretty thighs.

“I’m really sorry for you puppy, but you will have to wait just like me back then”

You were slightly confused, since your mind was all over your man and suddenly losing his warm touch when he kneel you before him.

“Touch me now little one, touch me with that silky hands, put that pretty mouth of yours on me”

You were gone again, you have never sucked someone off but you were entirely being guided by the heat of the moment and natural instincts.

“Pull me out of the pants angel”

You did as you were commanded, a pretty long length was released in front of your eyes, making you salivate just at the mere view, flushed and veiny, definitely pretty.

“What should I…”

Jungkook could only smile at you with that beautiful glint in the eyes, possessiveness.

“Lick me sweet angel, as if I was your favorite sweet”

Once again you obeyed the orders of your alpha, licking a stripe up his pretty cock just to add a little suck to the dripping head, making him release a loud moan, hands instantly grabbing your hair and guiding your head up and down.

“So good baby, such a good girl, little obedient bitch for the one who owns you, suck a little harder baby, not gonna break”

You did it and he let his head fall back, letting you see his neck, his Adam’s apple bob, more veins appearing in his perfect skin but what caught your eye was a single and simple little place, where you knew he had his scent glands, your little heaven in other words, guided just by the thought of it your canines started to grow in size, wanted to mark what was by the law of the moon yours, but snapped back to reality when you heard him hiss in pain, making him met you worry eyes.

“Hey little one, careful there, it hurst a little bad if you use that fierce canines, you will get what you want if I think you deserve that, so work hard”

His eyes were telling you to behave and to keep going so you attached your lips once more to the head of his length licking and sucking what he had to offer for you, taking little breaks to just breathe a little deeper, only for him to grab again your head and stuffed your mouth full, rough and encouraging him to just go deeper, choking you.

“That’s right sweet angel, choke on that cock, hurt a little that throat of yours just for tomorrow to remember that your big bad aloha did it”

He was loosing himself a little too quickly without giving you nothing, so he separated you from his core, watching with love and lustful eyes the way his cock was connected to your lips by a mixture of his precum and your saliva.

“Bring yourself over here precious thing and let me have a taste of you”

Legs guided purely by the desire burning inside your body, not even thinking twice and throwing yourself in the mattress , imagining already the worship of your beloved mate, shyness suddenly hitting you hard and attempting to close your legs and hide your burning core from hungry eyes.

“Come on sweet girl, don’t be so shy when seconds ago you were all over my cock, I will show you exactly how perfect I am for you so you don’t have that stupid ideas again, of giving yourself to another wolf, even knowing that you will always end up in my arms.”

You frown, taken aback by the little sentence at the end.

“How did you…?”

You were a little surprised that he somehow found out that little comment you have made to one of your closest friends, you had made it without thinking, full of anger after you found out who was you alpha.

“You thought that I would never now?, that little comment that made want to rip every throat in my way, especially the one of that little weak alpha you compared me with…He would never have a female like you, only because you are mine, mine and mine alone, remember that we are connected honey, anywhere you go my senses will be right behind you, that’s a little of how much you drive me crazy and you have to always remember that the moon never makes mistakes”

After that sentence he buried his head deep between your legs, licking a long stripe in that delicate and most intimate part of your body making you look up at the ceiling and letting out the most lustful moan in your short life but the fact that you wasn’t looking right at him while he ate you out with all the love and the possessiveness in the world made him mad enough to suck harder and harder on the sensitive bundle of nerves situated right in the center of your core, taking out of you a little groan of pain, not being prepared for his rough teeth and tongue.

“Look at me my sweet angel, why don’t you want to see your alpha praised your body, watch me prepare you to be the mother of my pups, oh yes honey I know you would raise them well, gods above, our pack will see you so pretty with a big baby bump and smelling of me everywhere”

And at this point you wanted everything he wanted, he was yours and you were his, his desires and dreams were also yours, wherever he went you would be right by his side, expecting to fill any need that he might have, as soon as he bruised your skin with that fangs of his, marking you for life, there will be no return.

Tag list: @min-nicoleee, @in-a-way-that-i-should-not, @imluckybitches, @teresaisla.

Next update: ?

All rights reserved.

[padfootagain]

The Adviser

Hey! I'm writing this little fic for @musicallisto's event! I'm using her prompts 4 and 29 for Caspian :

4. “Can you stay with me?”

29.“Their hands on your skin…”

I'm also including a bit of the drunken confessions trope for this one!

I hope you all like it, tell me what you think about it, and thank you again Clara for hosting this event! This is just pure fluff, you know me, it's soft hours time!!!! We love cute clichés here!

Pairing : Caspian x reader

Word Count: 3597 (I've proofread but I've been writing for four hours and my brain is fried, I am so sorry if there are more mistakes than usual, forgiiiiiive meeeeee!!!)

You shouldn't have been drinking like this. Deep down, you knew it was a mistake. But what choice did you have? It was the only way to forget what this princess what doing at that moment.

Her hand was on Caspian's arm, and you didn't fail to notice the way her fingers slipped down the length of his velvet sleeve to brush against the skin of his wrist. You took another large gulp of liquor, but the image was already printed all over your eyelids when you closed your eyes and tried to blink the sight away.

It was more than you could stand. So much more than what you were humanly able to stomach. And the worst part of it all, really, was that none of this was Caspian's fault. He didn't even know about how you felt for him, so how could he have guessed that him letting her touch him like this, being so close to him, were hurting so.

But it did hurt. God, it hurt so bad.

The room was full of noises and conversations. You were celebrating the signing of a new commercial agreement between Narnia and their neighbours. It was exciting, and all the politicians that had been involved in the elaboration of the treaty and its negotiations were now enjoying a much-deserved celebration. The treaty had been signed earlier in the afternoon, and hopefully it was the first step towards a friendship between the two nations.

And you should have been celebrating as well, because after all, this treaty was your baby. You had written parts of it, you had worked for months to convince lords that this treaty was a good thing. You had worked and worked relentlessly for so long on this project. It was your baby, in a way.

When you had begun this adventure, you had envisioned yourself in the position you were finally in now. With a signed treaty resting on the king's desk in his study, and surrounded by lords, princesses and other important political figures, drinking wine and eating pastries and laughing as the future seemed a little brighter than it was before.

What you had never imagined though, was that during the months you had spent working closely with the King of Narnia, you would fall madly, desperately, hopelessly in love with him.

You wanted to slap some sense into your own head for falling for him the way you had, but it would be useless. There was nothing you could have done to avoid it. And every time you looked at him, you were reminded of this cruel truth. Nothing could have prevented you from falling in love with the king, not even yourself, not even him. Nothing, no one, could save you now.

Sometimes, it was driving you mad, really. The way he was so kind, and a little shy around you. You forgot that he was even a king, then. He had a way to make you feel safe by simply smiling at you. There was something in the way he walked, in the way he held himself, that would have betrayed his rank if he had tried to hide it. He was so… inspiring, in a way. More than that, he was magnetic. When he walked into a room, it was clear who he was. A mere glimpse at him, and even if one had no idea what the King of Narnia looked like, they would have recognized him. But then he would blush in the most precious way when complimented, bending his head as if to hide his reaction, and there was so much hesitation in his polite smiles, as if he wasn't sure what to do with himself. Maybe it was that contrast that had make your heart melt. The way he was the most charismatic man when you saw him, and the kindest when you talked to him.

Yes, yes, that was it. Or at least, part of it. Maybe it was the starting point of it all. Then, every single detail that made him unique had sealed the deal, and your heart was his, for good.

At the end of the day, though, no matter how much you loved him and how friendly and kind he was to you, he was still the King, and you were merely a representative. There was nothing special about your ancestry, even if your position now was quite high in the government. But you were one of the King's advisors, that was all, and every time you looked at one of these princesses throwing all their charms and manners at Caspian, you really couldn't hold it against him to fall for them and not you.

If he had known these inner thoughts of yours, he would have been adamant at contradicting you, at telling you that you were just as special as they were. But he was busy talking to one of them, and you were busy drinking. It ought to be the way things were meant to be, right?

After a couple more glasses of wine, your head was starting to spin and Caspian seemed to finally notice that something was off with you. He frowned hard as he saw you reaching for the nearest wall to keep your balance, while you lifted your glass to your lips again. You finished all the alcohol in one gulp. It wasn't like you though, to drink like this…

At first, he thought maybe you were simply letting loose more than usual in celebration for the treaty, but you didn't seem happy at all. On the contrary, your features were twisted in one of pain. Were you sick? A wave of fear rushed to his heart, crushing the little organ in his chest. He hurried to excuse himself and leave the princess he had been talking to. He was aware it was barely polite, but if you were unwell, he didn't exactly care about the etiquette. In fact, all his thoughts were set upon you and his worry now, he couldn't even realize what he was doing as he crossed the room in just a few long strides, ignoring people in the crowd trying to intercept him as he passed by.

You hadn't noticed him approaching, you had settled your attention on the marble ground, in an attempt to avoid seeing Caspian talk with the flirty princess that had been clinging to him for the past hour. Only when his brown boots appeared on the floor right before you did you notice his presence. You looked up in a jolt, your hair growing with fear and apprehension, while your quick movement made your head spin even more than before.

"Your Majesty," you mumbled, trying to stand a little straighter. "Can I… do anything for you?"

Your words were slurred, obvious sign of your intoxication. Caspian's frown only deepened.

"I was about to ask you the same question, you don't seem to be well," the king answered.

"I… I am perfectly fine," you lied.

"You seem to need a bit of fresh air," Caspian insisted. "Let me accompany you to the gardens."

You didn't have the strength to fight against him or argue in any way. Besides, Caspian was right, you did need a bit of fresh air to clear your mind. So you let him take your arm, assuring your balance, while he guided you outside.

The afternoon was slowly dying out into the early evening. The sun was still quite high in the summer sky, but the heat it released had diminished as the hours passed by. A salty breeze was blowing through the roses in full blossoms and the branches of the tall oaks that offered their shades to the visitors. It was quiet though, most of the inhabitants of the castle being either busy with their daily tasks, or at the reception. It was an easy task for Caspian to find a quiet spot for the two of you to walk by.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked, noticing your steps were a little steadier, even if he still kept a careful hold on your arm, just in case.

"I did need a bit of air, indeed. Thank you. I feel better," you nodded.

You tried to give him a smile, but it was harder to hide your feelings when you were drunk. It seemed more like a wince, instead, and Caspian fully turned to you this time, stopping you in your tracks in the middle of the narrow path in between the bushes of roses. He remained silent for a while, the noises of the wind in branches and the bees buzzing in the flowers the only sounds you could hear. And in this quiet place, staring right into the king's dark eyes was even more hypnotizing than usual. You were suddenly very aware that the two of you were alone. And very aware that his hand still rested on your arm too…

"Are you sick? What is wrong?"

Under his insisting tone, you recognized worry. If Caspian had tried to hide it, he had failed miserably.

"I… am quite fine. I think I simply celebrated a little too much…"

"You seemed sad back there," the king shook his head, cutting you off because you could finish your lie. "You did not seem to be celebrating at all. Why? What happened?"

"Nothing. I guess… I must be very tired. The negotiations were difficult and…"

"Why are you lying to me?"

You merely stared at him, not knowing what to answer.

"I know you are lying. I know you. Why will you not tell me what is bothering you?"

"It… is nothing…"

"Is it why you drank too much?"

"I am not drunk…"

"Yes, you are. You can barely stand."

"I can," you replied, even if it wasn't true. You knew that if Caspian suddenly let go of you, you would probably fall down in the roses, and the thought of the many thorns cutting your skin wasn't particularly appealing to you.

Caspian's frown slowly disappeared though. From worry, his expression changed to one of sadness and hurt, but you didn't understand why.

"I am your friend, Y/N. Why will you not tell me? I could help…"

You let out a bitter laugh. The liquor was taking the better of your judgement, for you would have never answered him this way had you been sober.

"My friend? As if we were friends…"

Caspian stared at you with the most puzzled expression you had ever seen adorning his handsome features.

"What do you mean? Of course, we are friends."

"We are not friends. You are the king, and I am… a commoner working for you."

There was so much hurt passing through Caspian's eyes, but you didn't feel guilty. It was true, after all. And the sight of this woman with him… with her eyes all over him, and the way she leaned towards him…

It was more than you could take…

"I thought we were more than just that by now," Caspian answered in a low voice.

"How could we be?"

"Why did you drink so much tonight?"

"Because I cannot take it anymore… I… these feelings I just… I can't fight them…"

"Feelings? What…?"

But then it dawned on him, only, not completely.

Of course, a question of heart would explain your sadness and your drinking tonight, such behaviours that were so out of character for you. He wasn't particularly good at hiding the way his heart broke in his chest at the thought that you loved someone else, though. He had to be thankful for your inebriated state that made you fail to notice his reaction when it was written all over his features.

He opened his mouth to ask who this was about, but you spoke first. The wine was making your mind blurry, your thoughts turning into a whirlwind, bumping into each other and making your usual filters lift. In any other circumstances, you would have never said any of the words you were about to utter, but then, liquor and broken hearts make confessions tumble easily.

"I cannot do this anymore. I want to resign."

"Resign? What…?"

"I cannot handle it. Being around you all the time…" you went on, barely realizing Caspian was trying to speak. "And today seeing her… her hands on your skin and…"

Your voice broke, and you lost your balance for good. Caspian was still here though, and he managed to catch you in his arms right before you would fall to the dusty ground.

His brain was repeating again and again your words, trying to analyse their meanings…

Did it mean that… you… was it about him, then?

"I will take you to your room. You need to rest. Come on…"

With the gentlest gestures, he guided you back inside and to your room, crossing empty corridors and avoiding people as much as he could. No one else but him needed to see you like this.

He helped you settle in bed, and only then did he notice that you were crying.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled.

He brushed your tears away. He had never touched you this way before, and it made his heart pound in his chest like it had never before. He let his fingers linger a little longer on your cheek.

"You must rest. We will talk about this in the morning."

He gave you a warm smile before turning away, but you held him back, catching his wrist before he could walk too far away. He turned to you again with a puzzled look.

"Can you stay with me?"

Your voice was barely more than a whisper, uncertain and fragile. He was used to hearing it loud and confident while you discussed amongst politicians and advisers, it was such a drastic change, it scared him. It was evident you needed someone to take care of you at that moment, and Caspian wouldn't have let anyone else do it in his stead.

He should have gone back to the reception, but how could he leave your side now?

So, he dragged a chair next to your bed, and sat down, offering you a reassuring smile. He held your hand in his, giving it a soothing squeeze.

"As you wish. But you need to sleep now."

"Are you angry?"

"No, I am not. We will talk about it tomorrow. Now, you need to sleep. Close your eyes."

You did as ordered, and fell asleep as soon as your eyelids had fallen. The warmth of Caspian's hand on yours was the last thing you remembered before surrendering to slumber.

-----------------------------

Your headache wasn't the worst thing that happened when you woke up. Nor was your nausea, or the disgusting taste that lingered on your tongue. No, the worst part of waking up was the note you found folded by the side of your bed.

Caspian would be waiting to see you in his office.

If parts of the previous day were a little blurry, you still remembered perfectly your conversations with the King.

He would ask you to resign. Or he might even fire you altogether. He could have asked you already for someone to pick up your things and carry them out of the castle… but then, Caspian was a kind man, and you weren't altogether surprised when you picked up an outfit to dress up and found all your belongings exactly where they belonged.

After your behaviour, there was no other alternative. You had been disrespectful, and you highly doubted that the king would appreciate working with someone who had romantic feelings for him.

But your pride made you decide that you would resign first. You would not let him throw you out of the castle. If you had to leave, which was painful enough already, never to see the man you loved again, then at the very least, you could be spared the humiliation of being pushed away. At least, you would be the one leaving.

You made your way to his office, at last. Taking a deep breath before knocking on the door. Your heart missing a beat when you heard Caspian's low voice answering on the other side. You walked in.

Caspian welcomed you with a smile, he was sitting at his desk, his back to the stained-glass windows that painted colours all across the room. The light coming from behind him made the image ethereal, a vision you could have summoned in one of your dreams…

"Good morning, Y/N. Please, take a sit," he invited you. "Are you feeling better?"

You struggled to swallow, cleared your voice. His voice made butterflies tickle your belly, but you ignored the feeling. You ignored how much you wanted to comply and approach him. This was not the time. Now was the time to be strong.

You remained at a safe distance from his desk, refusing to sit down.

"Your Majesty," you tried to keep your voice steady, but couldn't help the slight shake that accompanied your words. "I am well, thank you."

He opened his mouth to speak again, but you interrupted him, raising your hand to silence him.

"Please, your Majesty… let me speak."

He nodded, letting you continue. You took a deep breath, and finally gathered the strength you needed to speak again.

"I…My behaviour yesterday was… unforgiveable. And I am aware that I have crossed a line. What transpired last night is the proof that I can no longer work for you and serve Narnia at the best of my abilities as your adviser anymore. It is why I would like to resign. I would be very thankful if you would agree to allow me to stay in the castle for one last week, to allow me to look for a new home. My resignation will be effective immediately, and I can write it down, if you want me to."

Caspian remained silent for a moment, before slowly standing up, and walking towards you. His hands behind his back, he only stopped when he was but one step away from you. You stared at him, waiting for his reaction, completely motionless.

"I agree that… your confessions from last night make it impossible for us to continue like this. Things cannot remain the same now."

You fought with all your might to refrain your tears, that merely gather at the corner of your eyes, but didn't fall. You didn't flinch, nor did you back away though.

"I do think that you need to resign from your position in our government. I would not be… proper… to have my advisor be…"

"I will inform the rest of the staff immediately," you interrupted him. Which was incredibly rude, interrupting the king… but you couldn't take it. You couldn't stomach the pain that it would make you feel to hear him say the words he was about to utter.

It was enough that he didn't love you. You didn't need him to say it out loud.

You turned on your heels, but Caspian didn't let you step away. He caught your wrist before you could move away, and you turned back towards him, your eyes growing in surprise.

"I have not dismissed you, yet," he told you, quirking an eyebrow.

"I apologize, your Majesty."

Caspian gave you a smile. You wondered what was worth smiling for though.

"I thought we had agreed that there was no need to call me this way when we are alone."

"Things have changed."

"Not nearly enough, yet."

It was your time to frown.

"There is no need for you to move out of the Castle."

"But I…"

"Would you like to take a walk in the gardens with me this afternoon?"

You opened and closed your mouth a few times, completely confused.

"I… don't understand…"

"Did you mean what you said? Yesterday? Or did I not understand you right? I thought you said you had feelings for me."

You nodded, unable to answer, fleeing Caspian's gaze.

"I did… but…"

"Well, I am asking you if you would like to take a walk with me this afternoon."

"But I… why?"

His smile grew fonder, and you noticed the way his fingertips were shaking when he reached to hold your other hand.

"I… was hoping you would… like to spend some time with me," Caspian added, hesitant this time, a little shy, pinker shades appearing to colour his cheeks. "Not as my advisor but… as… a friend…"

"A friend?" you repeated, stunned.

"Or well… maybe… maybe more than a friend."

"But I… I am…"

"I feel the same way."

He had said the last sentence as fast as he could, forcing the words out like he would have pulled an arrow out of a wound. In one, quick motion, before the strength and courage would fail him.

Your mouth fell open.

"You… you do?" you stuttered, out of breath for some reason. You only just then noticed that you seemed to have forgotten how to breathe altogether.

"I do. And well… I am afraid that you need to resign, for it would be impossible for me to court one of my advisors. But as you have done so, I thought… what about a walk?"

There were a thousand thoughts swarming in your head, and most of them were going against Caspian's idea. Most of them told you this was impossible.

But you chose to simply ignore all of them, and answer what your heart was desperately begging you to say instead.

"Yes. Yes, a walk would be lovely."