#that he decided he'd make something of the inconvenience

[in-class-daydreams]

Imagine ex-husband Gojo doing things for his new love interests that you begged him for while you were married.

After a joint meeting between the sister schools, you overheard Suguru asking him who he was texting during the meeting.

Satoru replied, "Just letting my date know I'll be a bit late tonight since we ran long here. Todo can yap, huh?"

"Seriously!" Their voices faded as they walked down the hall.

You stood just outside the meeting room watching the corner the disappeared around. If you had to pinpoint the number one reason your marriage failed - more than clan pressure, more than the strain of being young parents, more than back to back to back missions - it would be the fact that Satoru can't communicate for shit.

Part of it wasn't his fault. His brain just didn't work like that. An inconvenient side effect of limitless is that everything makes sense in your head, but it's hard for a person with the gift to explain their thoughts to others.

So the no-call, no-shows to dinners was technically a side effect of limitless, as was his inability to articulate his feelings like an adult or the fact that he would just do things without even telling you there was a problem in the first place.

"Quit doing that with your face, brat." Sukuna emerges from the meeting room. He's out of his Ryomen form at the moment, as he usually is during meetings so that he can actually fit in his chair. "How long are you gonna let what he does affect you?"

"It doesn't!" you insist.

Sukuna rolls his eyes. "If that helps you sleep at night."

Imagine reminding yourself that you can't be mad at him.

You're seeing other people now, too. Hell, you've been divorced for over a decade, it's insanity that you care at all.

It's just. You never doubted his love for you. Not for a second, not even now that your marriage failed and you largely raised your son on your own.

"Mom?"

Maybe your divorce was his motivation to be better. You're not sure. But if he's capable of change, capable of being attentive and communicative, why couldn't he change for you all those years ago?

"Mom."

Could it be that you were his childhood companion and he loved you, but he was never in love with you? Was his love for you less than your love for him?

You hardly notice your son calling out to you until he springs into action. "Mom!" Sen nudges you away from the stove to turn of the burner. When did smoke fill the kitchen? The roux you were trying to make was burnt to a crisp, stuck to the pan and emanating an unpleasant smell.

Sen gently pries your hands off the handle and drops the ruined pan in the sink to soak. Then he makes sure the burner's off before turning to you with a conflicted expression.

He may have inherited a hybrid of both your and Satoru's personal brands of emotional stuntedness, but he could put two and two together between how distracted you've been and the rumors of Satoru dating again - What with it being huge news among jujutsu society (aka power hungry clans with eligible daughters.) Your son had his own complicated feelings regarding his father and as much as he'd prefer Satoru stay away from you, it hurt him to see you like this.

Though, watching you try to keep a stiff upper lip for his sake during the divorce is the reason he doesn't want his father anywhere near you.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart." You wipe your hands on a dish towel. "I wasn't paying attention. Hang tight while I make you something else."

He could kill Satoru right now. But you wouldn't like that, so he won't.

"Mama, I--" He shuts his mouth. You've been protecting him from the details of the divorce his whole life. What did he know about comforting you? But while he may not have been able to protect you then, he can sure as hell try now.

"Mama, why don't I take you out to dinner? My treat."

Imagine that Sen decides he needs to stop having ideas.

He brought you to a local okonomiyaki that you've been going to since he was little to the point where the owners knew you well and liked to give you little extras from the kitchen. Today's treat was a side of pickled radish.

It was your happy little hideaway. Away from jujutsu and clans and curses and your broken home.

Sen insisted on cooking the okonomiyaki for you, saying that, "My treats means I'll take care of everything!" The weak smile you gave him made his heart soar.

You giggle while he jokes around and tells you about school like how Hikari fell asleep for 45 minutes out of an hour long test and still got a better score than him. Hearing about your son and his happy school days always made you feel better.

Sen was ready to give himself a pat on the back for cheering you up when he hears the front bell jungle and a woman's laughter carries over.

"Fancy places are like that, though!" the woman laughs. "They give a bite of food per plate."

Then a familiar voice replies, "Yeah, but it was good, wasn't it? And now we get to fill up at a cute place like this."

Even though he's the one facing the door and not you, the look on your face tells Sen all he needs to know. What breaks his heart is that you've sunk lower into your seat to make yourself smaller.

Sen could kill his father right now.

Hooray, angst!

Click [here] to keep up with ex-husband Gojo and his estranged family | Ask stuff about Sen and the fam [here]

[dennisboobs]

now that we know 100% for sure that dtamhd is going to be based on glenn's tesla story i'm bringing back these tags

[anantaru]

— comforting you on a bad day

including — scaramouche, wriothesley, alhaitham, childe x gn! reader

genre — fluff, hurt -> comfort

— scaramouche

scaramouche finds you sitting on the couch, burying your face into your hands.

easy to see, he knew you must've had a bad day or that something inconvenient must've happen to you— and unquestionably, he feels a slight function of heartache when you're suddenly pulling your head up to look at him walk towards you, gloom settling on his countenance.

scaramouche doesn't say anything at first, he doesn't want to make you overwhelmed or like you had to talk about it, it was up to you if you wanted of course. but it was interesting to see how dependable he was on your happiness, because the man detested seeing your smile fade, he'd do anything to bring it back— as soon as you're sad, unahappy or dejected, he's beginning to feel it with you.

he was angry— bend out of his usual shape because he cannot find a quick solution to this, he just doesn't want to see you covered in a gloomy mask.

however, instead of resorting back to his past methods of handling situations such as those, especially the ones that come close to his own emotions, scaramouche decides to take a seat right next to you before placing his hand on his knee, but with his palm facing up— you see, as if to invite you to take it.

hopefully you do.

"you're quiet," he inquires shortly after, tilting his head to look at you, "on any other day, you'd greet me the moment i walk through that door," he purses his lips a little, the hand on his knee quietly turning impatient, like he's scared you won't take it— or even worse, what if he's the reason you felt this way?

troubled, scaramouche proceeds to look at you, and it might not come across like it since it can be quite difficult for him to show his proper feelings— but he'd do anything for you right now, if there's something he could do in order for your smile to appear again, he'd do it without batting an eye.

his throat lets go of a dry sigh when you take his hand sweetly before resting your head against his shoulder, holding your breath as you exhale through a crumbling heave.

scaramouche's grip on you tightens, "who did this to you?" he decides to ask, his voice growing an octave louder, ultimately signalizing the despair he felt from seeing you like this, "is there someone who made you feel this way? someone i should be aware of?" scaramouche had to know if there was a third party that was involved and most importantly, responsible for this— if so, you could easily leave it to him to take care of it.

you sniffle, the grip your hand had on his palm strengthening, "no one, it's just me," you embarrassingly rub your cheek against his shoulder as he leans back into the couch so you could make yourself more comfortable, "i just had a bad day, that's all," and as badly as your eyes wanted to flutter shut, you were frightened to do so due to possible tears dousing your cheeks.

for some reason, you didn't want him to see you cry— despite the fact that you would never be judged nor laughed at by him.

the man loves you dearly, he could tell the entire world about it— draw warm and tender words on a pavement blossoming with roses. it's truly a magical feeling, turning to dizzying deeds and actions when he gets to kiss and hug you, touch and caress you.

scaramouche whispers your name softly when he slowly runs his thumb to circle around your hand, "hey, you don't have to be sad anymore," at his sentence, you curiously turn your head up as best as you can when his eyes flitter down at you.

"i mean, since i'm back from the akademiya now, we can spend all night together," you make a hum of appreciation before shifting yourself into him so you're lying as close to your boyfriend as possible, "—besides," scaramouche continues as he rests his head against yours, his mind and spirit soothing yours, "if someone is, in fact, responsible for your sadness, i might need to take care of something else first."

you chuckle, believing he's joking before opting to peck his cheek as at the same time, he pulls you in for a proper kiss— ah well, how sweet, you're smiling now, he can sense it as denseness lifts from your shoulders.

strongly invaded by a warm cradle around your whole face, scaramouche silently takes your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, "i told you," he sternly reminds you, whispering his words as his brows narrowed, the muscles in your face beginning to soften upon receiving his homely touch.

"i won't let anyone or anything sadden you, doesn't matter what it is, i will make sure you're being taken care of."

— wriothesley

you do not move an inch, your body hemmed in a draining blanket that fueled a negative spot in your heart, but do not be mistaken because within this cold, you can feel the warmth of wriothesley's love all the more.

you're like a sheet of glass right now, utterly still, eyes open as if gazing into a dark hole, unable to move a single muscle by how challenging this day had been for you.

as soon as he shrouds your body against his arms and pushes you into his chest, your eyes are glazed in warm liquid that cover the majority of your cheeks, slowly eating away at your skin. your boyfriend doesn't mind when you're crying in front of him, quite the reverse actually, he sees it as you trusting him so much, that you're willing to be vulnerable in front of him.

as soon as he kisses your forehead in reassurance, the force of the impact your emotions have caused on your mental state lift a little, paired with your general feelings resulting in you stumbling forward into his embrace, your hands clumsily scrambling at his jacket as you sniffle into his chest.

in your relationship you didn't need to hide your raw emotions, not only would wriothesley see through you right away, but it's, bluntly saying, pointless to do that in the first place. the man knows that in this moment in time, he needs to be there for you, and he doesn't expect you to be happy and positive all the time.

yet seeing you like this feels like losing a limb, because you're completing wriothesley in a way, you're like a puzzle piece fixing his heart— the fear of being unable to help you, give you what you need was scrambling into his body and mind, and if you ultimately sought after it, the duke would gladly destroy anything to make you happy, including himself.

"sorry, am i being too much?" you sniffle out before rubbing your eyes to get rid of the blur, honestly clueless as to why you're apologizing in the first place, "i think you must've expected our date to turn out differently," you continue, it was all you could shove past the heavy lump in your throat. you're holding yourself on a single thread, deep breathes and hefty swallows, your soft fingers slipping beneath the back of his neck.

wriothesley smiled, feeling the pull of it behind his heart, he disliked whenever you were apologizing for things you cannot control, not to mention when they were so human too.

"not at all, do not say that," he answers, holding you close, "you will never be able to be too much for me," he promises as he sighs out, one last octave teasing the following as his lips slowly move with a warm tenderness on your forehead once he places a kiss on you.

— alhaitham

alhaitham will not touch you, yes, he will sit next to you and offer a shoulder for you to lean on if you so seek it, but he will not begin to speak first nor say anything at all— wether it's questioning your current state or beginning to somehow figure it out on his own.

instead, he just listens to you.

you can talk to your boyfriend about everything, he does not care if it's pointless gossip you've overheard the other day, or you talking about this new, exciting hobby you found or like now, something that has pulled and squeezed at your heart like you're unable to breathe anymore.

he will not interrupt you, the man will make sure you can scream your heart out of your chest if it means that you feel better afterwards. he's a good listener and when you tell him everything that's on your mind, alhaitham will subconsciously ponder about possible solutions on how to help you out.

"nothing could be more human than this, don't ever feel like you have to hide this from me," he says as your tears slip beyond your control, rushing uncontrollably. alhaitham desired you beyond any significant reason, he has fallen for you and such fact will never falter, it's beyond native intelligence, beyond common sense.

although sometimes, he can trail off, it's cute, especially when he's catching himself admiring his darling, "you're so beautiful, have i told you that today?" for a second, right after you tipple over his words, your body is unable to react, and then you cannot help yourself but let go of a chuckle.

his sudden compliment came so unexpected regardless of your boyfriend being blunt by nature, "you're telling me this while i'm crying and looking like a mess?" your lips curve into a flustered smile, cutting through your initial weary facade. the chilling waves that flung into your body surely caused havoc, but it was almost frightening by how fast alhaitham could change your mood. 

"I thought you should know," he ponders, softly pushing your head up so you could look at him, "you're always beautiful to me, that has nothing to do with how you're feeling,"

shortly after, you lean into a tender kiss, chasing the love he was always providing you with— this time, simply feeling him once wasn't enough, so you kiss him again, again and again, leaving him with enlarged pupils as he pulls gently away.

— childe

childe will find things to make you feel better, heavy emphasized on the find.

it's something he has to get done and despite the fact that he might not seem like it, he feels it with you, everything, it impact him, regardless if you're being drained that day, saddened or if it even has anything to do with him in the first place.

naturally, he'd also pamper you so you're feeling more comfortable, but such wasn't necessarily a new in your relationship, he clearly has a habit of spoiling you to bits— the celestial bodies decorating the world, yes, ajax would reach for the stars in the sky if you so wished for them.

you're aware that he's mostly absent due to his work requiring him for the most times, but he'd make sure to be by your side the moment he realizes you're genuinely not feeling well. childe is quite adapt of finding a way to make what he wants to achieve possible so do not worry yourself, he will never let you down.

for all that, do not get greatly surprised when he's starting to throw around unfunny jokes his brother might've told him or tell you a story about how hilariously weird his fellow colleagues can be, not to mention scary which was rib-tickling in its own manner.

the man will get nervous too and it's cute, it's his first serious relationship and he doesn't want to do anything wrong. also, important side note but it goes without saying that him being this adorable will already lift your mood a bit.

he's also a little overwhelmed by the situation and is scared to make it somehow worse for you. little does he realize that you're so thankful to him, in fact, you do not need him to magically solve the problems for you, your boyfriend just being here and listening was enough to find comfort.

it's all the more charming, he is, how he smiles from head to toe when you're searching his snug, pleasant hugs when he lets you sob into his chest.

"you're so comfy," you mumble into his jacket before rubbing your cheek over the place where you could faintly notice his fastened heart thumping beneath his ribcage.

your message makes him immediately blush, scarlet red catching his skin and setting it ablaze as he averts his gaze a little to conceal it.

childe doesn't necessarily think he's good at comforting somebody, but he shows you another smile when you gaze up at him, his grin close-lipped but bright as a bared tooth, "i'm sorry, i know i have neglected you recently," you recognize the weary weight of his words, how they're crumpling off his face, "my work, ugh, i know i should've been there for you more," he groans, "you don't deserve to be alone all the time,"

"it's not your fault," you draw a shaky gasp, panicked arms flying to his neck to wrap around him, "you're here now, aren't you?" your eyes glow, flickering with an impression that he cannot forget, it's boiling over until reaching the surface of your complete countenance, "can you stay for the night? only if it's possible," you reluctantly continue.

it's important to note that you really do not fault him, childe was not only providing for his family, but he wanted to give you a life where you do not have to worry about the material aspect of living.

ajax slides his large palm soothingly along the shiver of pain wracking your frame as he listlessly rests his head against yours, "i'll stay as long as you want me to, until you're feeling better, until you can smile again."

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

Touch Tank

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 5.5k (look it wasn't supposed to be this many- my characters got away from me)

Warnings: sheesh, oral (f receiving), fingering, handjob, creampie, Loki is very soft and worshiping, unprotected sex (be safe) I think that's it idk this is kind of mild compared to some of my other stuff- could be waaaay more raunchy lmao

Genre: fluff, smut

Summary: Loki is not the easiest person to get close to, but you're not deterred by his standoffishness. He deserves a friend in the tower and you're determined to be at least that much.

He's so pretty when he goes down on me // he tells me he's gentle when he wants to be // I think he wants to be gentle with me ~ Touch Tank by Quinnie

***

You rush down the hall, excited for your night out with a group of your non-Avenger friends. You make a point to see your other friends as often as you can to balance those relationships with your ones on the team. After all, living with the Avengers means that you see them all the time, but being an Avenger is not all there is to you. Walking into the main room you're surprised to see Loki sitting at the kitchen counter, just kind of staring at nothing.

"You alright Lo?" You ask him carefully. Your question seems to pull him out of whatever trance he was in.

"I'm fine." He says, though his face isn't convincing.

"Okay? Happy staring- I'm going out so- I'll see you later then." You frown heading over to the main elevator. Loki's not exactly close to anyone in the tower except Thor, and even that he'd argue is false but you always make a point to include him even when the others ignore him a bit. As you ride down to street level you can't help but wonder what has him so pensive up there by himself. On the street, waiting for a taxi to flag down, you can't get yourself to shake Loki from your mind so- reluctantly you dial one of your friends.

"Y/n!" Your friend's excited voice practically yells down the line.

"Hey! Listen, you know I hate to do this, and I wouldn't if it wasn't important, but I'm not going to be able to make it out tonight, something's come up. I'm okay, I just can't come. You guys have fun! I want loads of pictures and a play-by-play once one of you returns to life tomorrow yeah?"

"Aw we're gonna miss you!"

"Ditto! But I'll see you guys soon! Tell the girls I said hi!" You say.

"Of course! Take care, and call if you need anything!"

"Same to you!" You blow a kiss as you end the call and sigh. "Dammit Loki." You roll your eyes as you turn around and go back inside. You ride the elevator back up to the main floor where Loki is still sitting at the counter. You knock on the counter in front of him and grab a bottle of water from the fridge.

"Aren't you meant to be going somewhere?" Loki's eyes narrow at you.

"I was, but I called my friend on my way down and she's actually not feeling too hot so we decided it'd be best to reschedule once she's feeling better." You shrug. You know better than to tell him you cancelled your plans because you saw him moping at the counter. He'd flip at the first possible hint of you pitying him, even though that isn't what this is.

"I see."

"Do you want to watch a movie or something?" You offer.

"What?" He scoffs.

"Well- I was supposed to be spending time interacting with people tonight and that fell through but I'd feel kinda bummed if I spent the whole evening alone now after all the mental prep to be social so if you can be so terribly bothered to hang out for a bit I'd- value that." You say. Loki looks you over as he considers your words and then he sighs.

"I suppose I could spare a few hours, but only because I can't stand watching you mope around the tower the way you do whenever you're disappointed, it's pathetic. But this favor is a huge inconvenience to me I just want you to know that." He says and you have to fight the urge to smile. You know the show of bravado is for his own sake more than anything, and you're willing to let him have it, but it's funny to think of how much rationalizing he's doing to convince himself it's alright to spend time with you.

"Your sacrifice is both duly noted and greatly appreciated. I can offer you compensation in the form of a meal or freshly baked cookies." You say. Loki's eyes light up very briefly at the offer of cookies, he'll never admit it out loud but he loves your baking, he always eats almost half a tray when you make them.

"You know Midgardian food has very little appeal to me, but I suppose a batch of cookies will do." He says with feigned disinterest.

"Do you want them now or at a later date?"

"I have no interest in dragging this out, so now would be better."

"Alright, give me five minutes to change, I'll make you some cookies and we can throw on a movie." You smile at him. You change out of your dress and into a hoodie and shorts. Twenty minutes later you're sat with a tray of cookies and a few other small bites with some random sitcom on the TV.

"I don't understand the point of this. Is there even a plotline?" Loki scoffs.

"Yes but only a little one."

"A little one?"

"So there are a number of shows that you can throw on and watch out of order with little consequence. Like if you do watch every episode in order there is a throughline of like character development and life changes but if you jump into, let's say, season 3 episode 2, you'll just see some funny little antics that are mostly inconsequential and chances are will not come up again until maybe the finale where they recount all their little goofs over the years." You explain.

"Why?"

"Mindless entertainment? It's nice to have something to watch that you don't have to be aware of watching." You shrug. "Lots of shows have complex storylines and characters that need to be paid attention to in order to comprehend what you're watching. Sometimes you don't want to do all of that." You shrug.

"If you don't want to think about what you're watching, why watch anything?" He frowns.

"Pass the time, fill the silence, any number of things. Like we have one on but we're talking now so we're not really paying it any attention, but because it's a sitcom we're not missing anything vital because there's nothing vital to miss. And when this conversation lulls to a stop we'll just tune back in and pick up wherever it's at."

"Your Midgardian habits are very strange." Loki hums.

"What do you do when you're bored and want to be entertained without much effort?" You ask him.

"That specific phenomenon I'm not quite familiar with. If I'm bored, I read, practice spells, on Asgard there wasn't much time for boredom." He shrugs.

"Well, things are different on Midgard. And seeing as you hate everyone and everything about this place you may find yourself well acquainted with that specific phenomenon sooner than you might think." You say.

You gotta say you're pretty proud of your ability to interact positively with Loki. When he first started living here you never would've guessed you'd be watching movies and having silly conversations like this. He's always been rather closed off from the team but perhaps that's something you can actually work around.

*~*~*

"Loki!" You call when you catch him in the hall.

"What?" He rolls his eyes.

"Are you busy?" You ask.

"Why?" His eyes narrow suspiciously.

"Well I was meant to go to the aquarium with Thor today-"

"Thor is on Asgard." Loki says.

"Yes exactly." You nod. You weren't meant to do anything with Thor today, but it seems the key to the trickster god is minor deceptions.

"Did he forget you were going to this 'aquarium' today?"

"It would appear so. Which- I'm not mad about really but these tickets did cost money and I can't exchange them for another date so I was hoping you'd be able to replace him that way the ticket doesn't go to waste." You explain to him.

"You don't have anyone else you could ask?" He huffs.

"Not on such short notice." You shake your head.

"How short is short notice?"

"We need to be there in forty minutes."

"Oh you have got to be kidding me." Loki scoffs.

"If you come with me, when we get back I'll bake you a batch of cookies." You offer. It seems to be the easiest way to get him to do things. You watch Loki contemplate for a moment before he caves to his inner discussion although you're not sure there was much of a debate once you offered baked goods.

"Very well, I'll go so you don't waste your money, but you can't keep bringing your nonsense to me in exchange for cookies." He says.

"Of course not!" You smile knowing damn well you will be doing it again if you see fit. Loki will never admit to enjoying your company or wanting you to make him cookies, but considering he always accepts your offers and never truly complains when you're together, you know the irritation is only a front. "We'll leave in 15 minutes 'kay?"

"Very well." He says. You head back to your room to get yourself together and 15 minutes later you meet Loki by the kitchen.

"Ready Lo?" You ask.

"Yes let's get on with it." He says. You loop your arm through his as you leave the tower and you're surprised he doesn't protest the contact, but you won't bring it up. At the aquarium, you excitedly talk about all your favorite exhibits as you walk from section to section. "So what was the plan exactly?" Loki asks.

"What?"

"With Thor, why were you bringing him here in the first place?"

"Oh! Well because there's a lot he still wants to learn about Earth so I've been trying to take him places where he can learn a number of things at the same time." You shrug.

"And how is that going?"

"We've done the zoo and a couple of museums already so I'd say not bad. Oh, we're by the jellyfish, you should see the touch tank!" You say.

"The what now?" Loki frowns. You grab his hand and lead him to the shallow tank of water off to one side.

"This is a touch tank. These are jellyfish, they're like 95% water and don't have brains, some of them are dangerous, but these ones are pretty harmless and you can touch them! Only on the tops of their heads though. Like this." You lift his hand up and push down all but two of his fingers and then slowly, you guide his hand into the water. "You have to be gentle." You tell him softly as you let his fingers touch the top of a moon jelly in the pool. You turn to Loki with a small smile only to find him already looking at you very intensely.

"I'm quite gentle when I want to be." He says quietly. You step back a bit and clear your throat, dipping your own fingers in to touch a jellyfish for yourself.

"Well I hope you want to be gentle with the moon jellies. This is one of my favorite things here." You tell him.

"So anyone can just walk up and pet the jellyfish?" 

"Yeah! Isn't it cool?"

"Sure." He nods.

"Wait till you see some of the other Jellyfish they've got here! They're insane!" You take his hand again and walk further into the jellyfish exhibit.

"They have more open tanks of creatures?"

"Oh- no all the other Jellyfish are in closed tanks." You giggle.

"Just as well, you said some are dangerous, no?"

"Well, yes, but aren't they just so beautiful?" You say looking at one of the tanks.

"Breathtaking." Loki says before he can help himself. He clears his throat, lucky you're so captivated with the floating water creatures that you don't even notice his eyes on you as opposed to the exhibits.

"Thank you for coming with me." You tell him.

"You bribed me."

"True- but you still could have said no. Especially since you're not even a fan of our, how do you say it? 'Mediocre Midgardian food'."

"Yes well, you pout when you're disappointed and it's incredibly displeasing to see. The whole tower suffers your moods. And while Midgardian food is mediocre yours is- the least. Plus I can rub this in Thor's face."

"I see you really weighed those pros and cons." You chuckle.

"I must. If I'm to disrupt my entire afternoon on such short notice." He shrugs. You roll your eyes and pull him through to the next exhibit but the smile on your face can't be hidden.

~*~*~

You hum to yourself as you enter the tower library.

"Good morning Loki." You say immediately spotting him on one of the lounge chairs. He's always in here, it's like his sanctuary and over the last few weeks you've found it easy to interact with him.

"It's 3pm y/n."

"It's morning somewhere Lo, time is arbitrary, don't be a grump." You shrug.

"What are you doing here anyway?" He rolls his eyes.

"Utilizing the insane collection of books we have considering there's only like 3 people living here that would ever pick up a book for from here."

"You've been coming here a lot lately."

"Why should you be the only one taking advantage of this big otherwise undisturbed room?"

"The best part of this room is that none of you come here."

"If you want to not run the risk of having to interact with anyone who lives here to might I suggest your room which has a lock on it." You smile brightly.

"Very funny." Loki scoffs.

"I thought so too!" You snap back. Loki gives you a dry look.

"Must you be so-"

"Charming? Witty? Adorable?"

"Not quite the adjectives I would've chosen." He says.

"Well next time finish your sentence." You wink at him.

"Are you trying to get under my skin?"

"Of course not! But it's pretty easy."

"Why must you bother me?" His eyes narrow.

"Maybe because you like talking to me more than you want to admit."

"And why would you think that?"

"Because you always do."

"Do what?"

"I'm sure you can figure that out." You say turning to leave the library.

"Do what y/n!?" He calls after you. "You didn't even get a book!" He shouts as the library doors close behind you. Loki frowns to himself for a moment and then decides to contact the only person he'd ever go to for advice on any subject. A looking glass spell slowly brings Frigga to life above his palm.

"Mother." He gets her attention.

"Loki?" Frigga picks up her looking glass with a smile. "Hello my darling boy. So lovely to hear from you. Thor tells me you're well."

"In the physical sense, yes." Loki nods.

"What troubles you my dear son?"

"I think Midgardian women might be more confusing than those on Asgard." Loki says.

"A woman? Do you feel for her?"

"Don't be ridiculous mother." Loki's words come out as a breathless chuckle.

"It is not ridiculous. She plagues your mind. Why, if you do not feel for her?"

"Truthfully I'm not sure." He frowns.

"Have you considered that you feel for her?"

"How would I know?"

"I believe the fact that you are asking may perhaps be a strong indicator already. This girl, do you see her often?"

"She lives here so yes." He nods.

"I mean intentionally darling." Frigga smiles.

"What?"

"Walking past her in the hallways is not quite what I'm referring to."

"Oh- well she's the least insufferable person here so- sometimes, yes. Though it's usually her bribing me to do things when her other plans fall through."

"What do you mean?"

"Well she invited me to this water creature house they call an aquarium a couple of weeks ago because Thor forgot he was meant to go with her."

"Are you sure Thor was meant to go with her?" She asks.

"I don't follow." Loki shakes his head.

"I wonder if this girl is playing tricks on my trickster." Frigga smiles knowingly.

"Do you overestimate her or underestimate me to believe I could be outsmarted by a mortal?"

"It is not a blow Loki, be calm my son. She plagues your mind when she is not there, she has made her way to a spot many people never have the pleasure of knowing within you. I believe she has stolen your heart and even you do not know it yet."

"What makes you think that?"

"In all your years Loki you have never once asked me about a girl. And this one seems to have you quite... wrapped."

"I resent that notion." He scoffs.

"What made you contact me?"

"Well she was-" Loki stops himself, his mother has already decided Loki is a goner, perhaps he shouldn't feed her any more information.

"She was with you Loki?"

"I spend a lot of time in the library. She came by and we had a short conversation that's all."

"What did she say?" Frigga asks.

"She thinks I like her more than I do. Or rather more than I will admit. I asked her why and she refused to answer."

"Well- what would lead her to believe that?"

"I have no idea." Loki scoffs.

"How is your relationship with her different than with the others?"

"I don't speak to the others. I only speak to her and Thor."

"Tell me about her."

"She is- happy, but not like Thor- his happiness is loud and aggressive she is- a calmer happiness. She seems to be crucial to the peace in this madhouse. Not for me, for everyone. She's also frustratingly smart, she has a comeback for everything and- it's nice to feel as though someone on this dreadful planet can match me- even if I find it vexing at times. Also she bakes- I don't quite enjoy Midgardian food but her treats are quite good though I refuse to tell her that-"

"I'm sure she knows." Frigga says with a soft smile.

"Why are you smiling like that."

"If you could see your face when you speak of this girl you would know like I know that your heart is no longer yours."

"My heart is very much still-"

"No darling. You may not realize but your mind has already given your heart to her. Follow your heart to her. Allow yourself to go there. It will do you good and you deserve it."

"Mother I cannot." He shakes his head.

"You can, and I suggest you do soon. If you do not tell her she has your heart you risk her unknowingly breaking it. Though I sense she is more aware than you may think. Certainly she's more aware than you are."

"You keep saying that-"

"There was no day planned with Thor. I would bet money she wanted to go with you, but you are a tricky thing. To catch fox you must think like one."

"What do I do mother? If you are right and this girl does have me, what do I do?" Loki asks.

"Be kind, be honest, be true. Don't wait too long." Frigga warns.

"Don't wait too long?" He frowns.

"Yes child, that woman will not wait forever for you to wake up."

"What if she is not waiting?"

"You misunderstand. I'm not saying she is waiting on you to come to your senses what I'm saying is that affections change one day she may not enjoy your time as she does now, someone serious may woo her and you miss your chance entirely, stars forbid it but something could happen to her or you. Do not get in your own way Loki, you have a tendency to do that."

"I do not get in my own way."

"Loki." Frigga says, leveling her son with an unimpressed look.

"I will consider your advice mother thank you." Loki cedes.

"Good. I will expect an update soon so be prepared for me to check in."

"Of course mother. Take care."

"You too my son." Frigga sets her looking glass down and Loki disconnects his end of the spell with a sigh. If Frigga is correct, Loki has much to consider, and rather quickly based on her warnings.

*~*~*

When the door to the library opens you don't bother looking up. The book you're reading is far too interesting to stop mid-page.

"What are you doing?" Loki jumps when he walks passed you. You look up momentarily, debating how badly you want to make a stupid joke.

"I'm practicing my backhand spring." You say flatly.

"You're sitting on the couch?"

"I'm also holding a book and yet you asked what I'm doing. I don't know what answer you expected honestly." You shrug.

"I just meant you're not usually sitting around in here."

"Is reading in the library that odd to you?" You chuckle.

"Well- no. I was just expecting the library to be empty." He says.

"Would you like me to leave?"

"Why would you offer to leave? You were here first."

"Yeah but I can read anywhere. Your hermit tendencies limit your spaces far more than mine."

"I am not a hermit." Loki rolls his eyes.

"Of course not." You hum.

"I'm not. I just have no desire to waste my time having unintelligent conversations with the uncultured morons that live here."

"Well don't let me bother you then."

"Not you, the others. And you can obviously stay."

"Why thank you for deeming me worthy enough to stay in your presence." You quip dramatically.

"It's not as if you care what I deem anyhow."

"True, that was sarcasm. Happy reading." You turn your attention back to your book and though Loki would like the conversation to continue he can't think of anything to say to justify pulling your focus from the book you're so clearly captivated by. You're in the library with your book for a few more hours and during that time Loki cannot help the way his eyes wander to you every so often, he doesn't even realize it's happening at first but once he does his mother's words that have been in his head for the past 2 weeks ring even louder.

~*~*~

"Y/n!" Wanda practically sings as she walks, no from the sound of it she's skipping, over to you at the kitchen island.

"Yes Wanda my dear?" You chuckle, setting your sandwich back on its plate.

"You know our coffee shop?"

"Around the block?"

"Yep!" She nods.

"What of it?"

"Well I heard through the grapevine that someone who works there has a crush on you."

"You heard- through the grapevine?" You quirk up an eyebrow at her.

"Cassie told me."

"How did you end up in that conversation?" You chuckle.

"Not the point, we should go down there!" She suggests excitedly.

"I'm eating a sandwich-"

"Not right now, tomorrow morning."

"You wanna tell me- who this mystery crush is? Because I'm not going anywhere if you don't tell me." You say biting your sandwich.

"It's Elliot."

"Oh he's cute-"

"Wanda." Vision calls as the main elevator arrives.

"Soooo we'll game plan when I get back?" She asks walking backwards.

"Fine." You shake your head and chuckle as she disappears in the elevator with Vision. You take a bite of your sandwich, presumably alone again, only to hear a throat clearing from behind you. You look over your shoulder to find Loki the source of the sound.

"Oh hi Loki." You say covering your mouth.

"Hello." He mutters.

"What brings you out of hiding today?"

"I'm not a hibernating bear you know."

"Of course not." You hum. Loki opens the fridge to grab something to drink, although it's mostly just so he can convince himself to bite the bullet and confess to you before this 'Elliot' from the coffee shop has an opportunity to turn your head like his mother warned him of.

"Do you have a moment? I know you're- eating but I'd like to talk- about something." He says awkwardly.

"Sure. I can use multiple senses at once. What's up?" You ask taking another bite of your sandwich. Loki opens his mouth a couple of times before he frowns. "Is something wrong Loki?"

"I don't know." He says, brows furrowed as he looks at the floor.

"You don't know if something's wrong? Are you dizzy? Dehydrated? Feverish? Do you need to sit down?" You sit up, concerned.

"No, I don't."

"You sure? You look kind of- constipated. I think you should sit down."

"I don't want to y/n." He grits out.

"Okay, calm down no need to get angry with me for caring."

"You said I look constipated!"

"Well you do! But only a little bit!"

"This is not going at all how I planned it?"

"What are you on about Loki?" You frown.

"Nothing it was just way easier to do this in my head."

"Easier to do what?"

"Never mind. Enjoy your lunch." Loki pivots and you almost knock over your barstool trying to stop him from leaving the kitchen.

"Not so fast god of mischief tell me what it is you're so panicked about."

"It's nothing y/n." He rolls his eyes.

"Nonsense. If it were nothing you wouldn't have made such a big deal out of it in the first place." You tell him.

"Yes, I over reacted, which is what I just realized and why I'm no longer interested in having this conversation." He says completely avoiding your gaze.

"Don't be a coward Loki." You snap.

"I beg your pardon?" His eyes widen.

"Don't be a coward. I've never known you to shy away from sharing your thoughts even when nobody asked don't tell me suddenly you're incapable of speaking your mind."

"I am far from incapable." He says.

"So spill it." You push.

"And if I don't?"

"Then you're not who I thought you were."

"Over a personal thought?" His eyebrow raises.

"It's the principle. What have you got to lose that makes you so fearful of your own voice?"

"Something I didn't even realize was important to me until recently." He says quietly.

"What's that?" You ask. Loki's eyes scan your face for a long moment, and if not for how close you are you'd swear he's holding his breath for how shallow it is.

"You." He whispers.

"I'm not going anywhere." You shake your head.

"I'm afraid you may take that back if you hear that which I refuse to say." He says.

"Is the reward worth the risk?" You ask.

"If I'm lucky."

"I'm disappointed that you see me as someone so easily run off Loki."

"That's not what this is." He shakes his head.

"No? It sounds like it."

"Do you see me as somebody that could be loved?"

"Of course I do. Thor loves you unconditionally. Your mother too from what I've heard."

"Do you see me as somebody that could be loved, by you?" This question is far more hesitant.

"Is that what you want?"

"In time, yes." He nods and a stray giggle escapes your lips.

"That's what you thought would drive me away?!" You shake your head. "Maybe you haven't noticed but I put quite a bit of effort into creating time to spend with you."

"Oh come on it's mostly coincidence, your friends canceling or Thor forgetting you had plans."

"You silly trickster. I chose to spend that time with you." You say.

"To be clear- does that mean you're as taken with me as I am with you?" Loki asks.

"You're taken with me?!" You blink at him in shock.

"Yes was I not clear about-"

"I'm joking Loki I just wanted to hear you say it directly." You smile.

"You vex me." He breathes out.

"And yet you like me anyway. Even more than I expected."

"Don't boast."

"How can I not?" You ask.

"I can think of a few ways to stop you."

"You can try Loki but I'm not so easily swayed." You taunt. Loki's hand comes up to your cheek and he kisses you. His lips are soft and he kisses you as if he's got all the time in the world. When Loki pulls away your eyes flutter open with surprise.

"How's that for sway?" He smirks.

"I'll admit that wasn't a terrible start." You breathe.

"Oh yeah?" Loki lifts you into his arms suddenly and you squeal in surprise as he carries you to his room. He lays you gently on his bed and kisses you again. "Not a terrible start is not enough." He hums trailing to your neck, peppering your throat with kisses and light nibbles. Loki pulls your shirt over your head. "Stars above you're beautiful." He mutters trailing his fingers delicately across your newly exposed skin.

"I'm not a flower you know." You giggle, the soft touches making you feel ticklish.

"What do you mean?" He frowns.

"Nothing bad. You're just being much more gentle than I'd have expected." You tell him caressing his face. He pauses for a moment as you trace his features.

"Do you remember what I said at the aquarium?"

"About the hammerhead shark reminding you of-"

"No about being gentle you silly girl." He says with a disbelieving chuckle.

"Oh! Yes that you can be when you want to be."

"Precisely."

"I didn't realize it applied elsewhere."

"Do you not like gentle?"

"Gentle is good." You shake your head. "Just unexpected." You smile. Loki returns your smile and leans down to press kisses down your abdomen. He pulls your shorts and panties off together, kissing your calf ones you're freed from the fabric. Loki's eyes are on you as his lips glide up your leg, opened mouthed kisses until he reaches your thigh where he bites at the skin, just enough for you to feel it. With one last kiss to your hip, Loki buries his face in your heat. You gasp at the first feel of his tongue against your center. His movements are unhurried as he watches your reactions to his mouth. When he finds the rhythm that you react the strongest to he sticks to it, enjoying the whimpers and moans he pulls from you and the way your body grinds against him.

"Oh god." You pant, one hand tangling in his hair. When you feel two of his fingers slowly glide into your entrance and curl upwards your eyes shoot open with a whine that makes Loki hum against you. You glance down at him, surprised to see his green eyes peering up at you with something akin to adoration shining in them and despite the pleasure building in your belly all you can think about for a brief moment is how... pretty he looks. Of course, that train of thought is lost when Loki wraps his lips around your clit, focusing his attention on the sensitive bundle of nerves. Between his tongue and his fingers you don't have a chance of staving off the orgasm that washes over you soon after. Loki works you through it, only pulling away when your breathing starts to steady.

"You are a vision in the heat of release you know." He says a hand on your chin to guide your attention.

"No, I did not know that." You smile reaching up to undress Loki. You pull his shirt over his head, littering his chest with kisses as you undo his pants but don't pull them down. You slip your hand into the waistband of his underwear stroking his hard hot dick.

"F-fucking hell you might be the death of me." Loki breathes out shuddering beneath your touch.

"I sure hope not. I quite like you alive you know." You joke with a giggle. Loki grabs your wrist and shakily pulls your hand from him.

"Right, if this goes on I'll embarrass myself." He says with a slight chuckle shifting to pull his pants down enough to free himself. He lines himself with your entrance and slowly works himself passed your walls with short rolling thrusts, deeper each time.

"That's nothing to be embarrassed about you know Loki." You tell him, admittedly a bit winded as he fills you.

"Maybe not, but I'll admit it's not ideal for our first time together." He groans as he bottoms out.

"Don't get caught up in expectations Loki." You tell him.

"Only my own darling." He says. Loki holds still for a few moments, allowing you to adjust to his size, only moving when you begin to grind against him.

"Move, Loki, please." You groan. Loki lets out a breath as he starts a steady rhythm. He's immediately a string of groans and curses in your ear as he fucks you, his sounds mingling with yours beautifully.

"Gods you feel even better than I could've imagined." He pants out between thrusts.

"Don't stop baby. God you feel so good." You moan, grinding up against his hips to meet his movements. Loki reaches between your bodies and his fingers find your clit, rubbing tight circles against the bud that turn your quiet moans to loud whines.

"Come on darling, I want to feel you cum on my dick. Please y/n- let go for me." Loki coaxes, kissing at your throat again and it doesn't take long for your body to tense with the feeling of another orgasm. Loki groans deeply as your walls tighten around him from your release.

"Did you like that Loki? Feeling my pussy clench from cumming for you? You're close aren't you? Come on baby, cum for me."

Loki's thrusts speed up a bit, then falter, and stall altogether moments later as you feel the heat of his release inside you. Loki kisses your shoulder gently as he comes down from his orgasm, your fingers stroking his hair a comfort he wouldn't have thought he'd enjoy.

"You know- I know you were trying to get me to stop boasting but if boasting always ends with us like this I'm inclined to do it more often." You say after a few moments of silence and Loki chuckles against your neck.

"Boasting is not a prerequisite my darling." He says sitting up. Loki conjures a damp cloth and gently dabs first your face, then your neck, and carefully between your legs before helping you into his shirt.

"Well what is?" You ask.

"There isn't one you tricky girl." He chuckles pulling you into his chest.

"How am I the tricky one here?"

"You caught the fox, I think that's worth some tricky points."

"What fox? Are you the fox?"

"Mhm." He nods.

"Well- then that's by far the best thing I've ever caught." You smile up at him.

"The fox isn't complaining either." He hums and you cuddle closer to him. This hadn't exactly been your original gameplan with Loki but this is way better than any outcome you could've expected.

***

[mypoisonedvine]

Tommy’s teenage love, whom he got separated from when he went to france.. Sad, bitter and heartbreaking end for them.

But now years later he sees her again, and the tension is 👀👀

I know this doesn't have to be dark but of course I made it a little dark 🤣 tommy just can't take no for an answer...

warnings: DUBCON DARK SMUT 18+ ONLY!, yandere, infidelity/cucking, breeding

It wasn't until he tried to kiss you, and you backed away, that he really got angry. Up until that point, it seemed like he'd thought the life you'd made for yourself while he was gone was just a minor inconvenience at most-- but your resistance irritated him. You didn't remember being so nervous around him when he was upset.

"Why won't you kiss me?" he asked softly, and you weren't even sure how to answer that question... wasn't it obvious?

"Thomas," you mumbled, "it was nice to catch up, but..."

He tightened his fists as you trailed off, making you feel oddly trapped while standing in your own kitchen. "I kept my promise," he told you firmly. "I never loved anyone else."

"You can't be angry with me," you scoffed. "Tommy, we were children! We didn't understand what any of it really meant--"

"You didn't really love me?" he assumed sharply.

"O-of course I did," you sighed, "Tommy, of course. I loved you so much. But I grew up."

Your fingers absent-mindedly twisted your wedding ring around your finger, guilt stirring in your chest. If you were honest with yourself, you knew you never moved on from Tommy completely-- no one ever forgets their first love. But you'd managed to put it all in the back of your mind, telling yourself that was all over... until you saw him again. Your heart could've stopped, seeing him at your door; it was like seeing him for the first time all over again, even though you could see how unkind the years had been to him.

But you had to shove all those feelings down now, and think of your husband. "You should go," you whispered, "before he gets back."

"I grew up too," he sneered, taking a step closer that made your heart race for multiple, conflicting reasons. "You have no idea the man I am now. People do what I say or they suffer consequences."

You swallowed thickly, horrified to see the darkness in his eyes-- something totally unlike the gentle, passionate young man you'd known all those years ago.

"If I want something, I take it," he continued. "Doesn't matter if it's a horse, or a gun, or another man's wife."

"Tommy," you whimpered, "my husband will be home soon... you need to leave before he comes back."

He stepped closer again, grabbing you and holding you tightly against him when you tried to step away. "Good," he decided flatly. "He can see what a little whore you are when a real man takes you."

He shoved you down onto the table harshly, ignoring your whine of pain as he pushed the bowls and plates out of the way, most of them falling off and shattering; none of that bothered him, he was too busy roughly pulling up your skirts, unfastening his trousers, holding you down. "T-Tommy, please," you choked.

"I know," he sighed, "I know, you need me so badly. How long has it been since anyone properly made love to you, darling? He could never take care of you like I do."

Sliding his fat head through your folds, you choked on a little sob.

"You still get so wet for me," he grinned happily, "still dripping, just like I remember."

Truth be told, your body still responded to him... that couldn't be denied now. You had a natural urge to give in and let him take you, let him bring you the pleasure you hadn't known since he left; but your logic and your dignity kept up the fight, though it was pretty useless against Tommy's strength-- with only one hand, he held you down while he guided his cock to your entrance.

He sighed a heavy, dark sigh of relief as he sheathed himself inside you, relaxing all over like a burden had been lifted off of him. "Oh, love," he purred, rubbing your back soothingly to try to help you stop shaking. "Oh, I'd nearly forgotten... nearly lost the memory entirely of how warm you are inside..."

You, meanwhile, were whimpering and willing your legs not to shake-- you couldn't let him see how much you loved the feeling, how you'd longed to take him inside you again, or he'd never leave you alone.

"My beautiful," he panted, "my darling..."

Setting a rough and desperate pace, his hands grabbed greedily at your body, forcing you to bite down harder on your lip to keep from moaning.

"You wouldn't believe how I missed this," he breathed. "Thought of you every day in France-- only way I survived, thinking of you... said you'd wait for me, love..."

You tried to hold back your tears, all of this bringing back emotions you thought you'd buried forever-- I would've waited for you forever, Tommy, you wanted to say, I wish I had, but I was scared that I'd never see you again.

You didn't say it, though, because you wouldn't be able to keep yourself together. You were struggling enough now, impossibly conflicted by what he was doing to you. For years you'd imagined seeing him again, but it never went quite like this in your head.

"T-Tommy," you managed choke out, and he cooed your name back at you sweetly.

"I know," he offered again, "it's really me, love-- we're really together again. I won't let you go this time."

You hadn't been lying about your husband coming home soon-- maybe Tommy thought you were, as an excuse to make him leave, but you weren't. You sobbed in shame and fear as he unlocked the door and walked in, finding you two in the kitchen with the most (understandably) bewildered look on his face.

Tommy didn't even stop.

"Wha-- Christ?! Who the fuck are you?!" your husband spat out, stammering over himself.

"I'm Tommy fuckin' Shelby," Tommy growled.

"O-oh," your husband choked, stepping back shakily towards the door. You hid your face, unable to look at him, so you only knew he left when you heard the door shut a minute later. Tommy purred and leaned down to rest his head on your back, between your shoulder blades.

"Don't think he's gonna give us any more trouble," Tommy chuckled darkly. "Fuck, love, I'm so close already-- never knew how to control myself with you..."

The way he breathed against your skin-- that hadn't changed at all. You hadn't even realized you remembered it until you heard it, and it was like you were that girl again, the girl he loved so long ago-- but you weren't anymore, or at least, that's what you had thought.

"Almost ready to fill you up nice and deep, hm?"

"Tommy," you choked, tensing up under him, and he groaned happily.

"Can't wait for our little family, darling," he cooed, "all the babies we're gonna have-- like we talked about back then, remember?"

His thrusts came faster and harder, shaking the whole table under you, and you kept hiding your face so you could try to deny your pleasure. Maybe you could hide it from yourself, but it was useless trying to hide it from him.

"I know how badly you need it," he groaned, "how long you've wanted this-- I'm yours, love, all yours again. You'll never have to be away from me again."

You knew what that really meant was that you'd never get a chance to be away from him again. It scared you just as much as it comforted you.

He came deep inside you with a long, low moan-- and for a long time, he just stayed within you, catching his breath. He only pulled out so he could lift you up a bit, turning you to face him, and finally getting you to kiss him this time. You struggled to focus on kissing him back when you could feel his come running down your thighs.

"You were always mine," he informed you with a gentle whisper against your lips. "Doesn't matter whose ring is on your finger. You'll always be mine."

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

What You Do to Me

Pairing: Jake Hangman Seresin x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only. Any minors interacting will be blocked

Notes: This was an abandoned Kinktober prompt from forever ago, so. Enjoy.

Not beta-read. Will probably spot 80 typos as soon as I post. Also posted it to the wrong blog the first time, whoops.

Length: 4.9K

Warnings: Best friend's dad Jake; age gap; praise kink; scent kink; masturbation; oral sex (female receiving); vaginal fingering; finger sucking; safe sex

Summary: You'd had a crush on your best friend's father for as long as you'd known the guy. It had been years. You'd gone on dates with other people; you'd had a couple of relationships, but you were never able to get the man fully out of your head. Jake made you so nervous, and it didn't take much—a hand on your back as he passed you in the kitchen, a smile across the table, a cheeky wink as he said pointedly said something so deeply uncool that Rebecca groaned in frustration. He was so intimidating, and brilliant, and gorgeous—and despite your intelligence, he just scrambled your brain.

GIF by stilinskiderek

“I’m sorry about this.”

It had to be the fifth time you said it, but you seemed not to be able to think of anything else to say. You almost never could when Mr. Seresin was nearby. The soft chuckle that he loosed now did absolutely nothing to lessen your embarrassment—which was insane.

You'd been coming to the man's house for years, but you couldn't shut off the part of you that was so nervous in his presence. He glanced back toward you, shifting your duffel bag in his hands as he watched you hang up your coat on what had essentially become your hook in his home. 

“It’s alright,” He insisted. “Are you hungry?”

You were starving, but you didn’t want to inconvenience the man more than you already had. Your old college roommate and best friend, Rebecca Seresin, wouldn’t be home for a full day, so you’d be alone with Mr. Seresin the entire time.

It was your own fault—you’d misread one of her messages and thought that she would be home when your train got in. You just wanted to keep yourself busy for the next day and not bother Mr. Seresin any more than you already had. 

“No! No,” You fibbed, shaking your head. 

But his little smile and knowingly raised brows told you that he didn’t buy your insistence for a second. 

“Well, I was planning on ordering pizza anyway. You’re more than welcome to it when it gets here.” He turned away from you, adding, “Make yourself at home. I’ll go put your bag in your room.”

You bit your lip. Your room. It was his guest room, but you'd stayed there so often that he'd come to think of it as yours. It made you giddy. You’d been to the Seresin home so many times over the last few years, a few of your standard toiletries and a couple of spare pairs of clothes had their place in the guest room. When Rebecca had first invited you over for Thanksgiving break years ago, you couldn’t have known that you’d wind up spending so much time at the Seresin house. 

You knew where everything was, you did the occasional load of your laundry, you knew where they hid the spare key. You were comfortable. Well—you were usually comfortable. Finding yourself alone with Mr. Seresin like this was pretty out of the ordinary.

You'd had a crush on your best friend's father for as long as you'd known the guy. It had been years. You'd gone on dates with other people; you'd had a couple of relationships, but you were never able to get the man fully out of your head. Jake made you so nervous, and it didn't take much—a hand on your back as he passed you in the kitchen, a smile across the table, a cheeky wink as he said pointedly said something so deeply uncool that Rebecca groaned in frustration. He was so intimidating, and brilliant, and gorgeous—and despite your intelligence, he just scrambled your brain.

You walked deeper into the home, glancing around the familiar surroundings. You’d take your time heading up, you decided. You wanted to shower; you felt so gunky from the hours-long train trip. You walked into the kitchen, opening the fridge and looking through the things in there. 

There wasn’t a lot, so maybe he really had been planning on ordering a pizza before you called him to ask him to pick you up from the station. You eyed the six pack of beer before you glanced back, as if expecting Mr. Seresin to pop up and shoo you away from the alcohol like a bad puppy. When he didn’t, you reached out, taking one of the cans and shutting the fridge. You pushed yourself up onto the counter, opening the beer and taking a sip.

Your stomach flipped at the sound of Mr. Seresin’s footsteps nearing again. You tugged your phone out of your pocket, eyeing the screen and swiping through various apps to occupy your attention. His footsteps slowed, then seemed to still. You could feel his gaze lingering on you. It was a feeling that you’d grown more and more familiar with, and longed increasingly over the last few years. 

“You gonna ID me?” You finally quipped as he came closer. 

“I know you’re old enough. Have been for a while.”

You watched him round to you, leaning heavily on the counter as he drew out his phone. He seemed to swipe through a few things with a deep knit to his brow. You let yourself just watch for a few quiet moments. You’d rarely had the opportunity to look at him like this, to admire his features so openly, without fear of your friend catching you. His tongue poked out, and your stomach fluttered as he swept it along his lower lip. 

“Extra cheese alright for you?” He asked. Your stomach flipped again as his eyes darted up to yours, catching you staring. 

“Sure,” You agreed. You reached out to take a sip of your beer, but he took it before you could, raising it to his lips and taking a deep pull. You scoffed a stunned laugh, brows raising. 

“Excuse you,” You reached out, prying it from his hand, and trying to ignore the skittering of goosebumps that ran up your arm as your fingers brushed his. 

“My house, my beer,” He reminded you. 

“Well, I licked it, so it’s mine.” 

It was juvenile nit-picking, but you didn’t miss the way his gaze dropped to your lips before he hurriedly looked down at his phone, clearing his throat. Hell, you needed to get out of there. 

“I’m gonna go freshen up.” You slid off of the counter, leaving the beer on the counter and sliding past him. 

“Pizza should be here in twenty.”

“Sounds good!” 

--

The guest room was just as you remembered it—sky blue walls, queen-sized bed, low walnut  dresser and all. You crouched beside your duffel bag, fishing through it for a pair of sweatpants and a long-sleeve shirt. You hesitated as you drew them out, lips twisting thoughtfully. The combo was comfy, but it wasn’t the cutest thing you’d brought with you. You reached deeper into the bag, drawing out a pair of tight-fitting leggings and a tank top with a low back and a sweetheart neckline—

No! No, why would you do that? Mr. Seresin wasn’t looking at you that way…But, if he wasn’t looking, what was the harm in dressing this way? 

You shoved the sweatpants and long sleeve top back into your bag before straightening up, stripping off. You kicked your clothing into a pile beside your duffel bag. If you’d only been there a time or two, you might’ve been more wary of leaving your things that way, but the Seresin house felt like a home away from home. You’d neaten up later. 

You headed into the bathroom, kicking the door shut and cranking on the shower. You began to hum that you’d had stuck in your head all day, dropping your clothes on the counter to change into. You got into the shower, tugging the curtain shut. You took your time cleaning up, using the water’s cover to transition from humming to singing softly under your breath. 

You managed to lose track of time, only realizing how long you’d taken when you heard a knock on the door. Your eyes widened as you heard the door open just a little. 

“Pizza’s here.” 

“Okay!” You squeaked, “Thanks!” 

You pushed out a breath as you heard the door close again. You shut the shower off, listening closely for the sound of the bedroom door closing as well. You snagged your towel from the bar outside of the shower, drying yourself off before stepping out. You eyed your outfit again. It was going to be fine—if he really didn’t care, then it really wouldn’t bug him, right? And if he did…A thrill of excitement trickled over you as you dressed. You gave yourself a look in the mirror, eyeing the expanse of your back revealed by your top. You gave a little shimmy, grinning at yourself before opening the door. You drift back into your room, bending down and scooping up your clothes to toss into the hamper. You glanced through it, frowning. 

Didn’t you…

You turned, glancing between where you stood and where you’d dropped your things. 

Where did your underwear go? 

--

“You’re not seeing anyone?”

Maybe there was some wishful thinking on your part, but you were almost certain that Mr. Seresin was flirting with you—and that question wasn’t helping. The conversation hadn’t just been limited to the typical topics that you tended to discuss with Rebecca present. Sure, he’d asked you about how work was going, but it had moved on to what each of you liked to do in your free time, what you wanted your future to look like, his favorite places that he’d traveled, and where he’d like to go in the future—and now, whether or not you were seeing anyone.

You shrugged a little, poking a few remaining crumbs on your plate. 

“Guys my age just don't interest me. They’re all immature little assholes.” 

“I seem to remember being like that.” 

“You’re not anymore?”

“Ouch!” Jake had laughed, slapping his hand over his heart. “That hurt me.” 

“What about you? Are you seeing anyone?” You couldn’t resist the opportunity to ask. Jake’s brows rose a touch before he gave a short shrug. 

“I haven’t for a while.” 

“Why not?” 

“Just haven’t felt the need.” 

Your brow furrowed, your head tipping to the side as you considered that. 

“Becca’s moved out, you’re here all by yourself…Doesn’t that get lonely?” 

“Work keeps me busy.” 

“That’s not what I asked.” 

Your stomach flipped as Jake’s eyes narrowed. He finally looked down at his food, shrugging again. 

“I don’t think about it much.”

You weren’t sure you believed that—and it certainly wasn't a no.

-- 

“You don’t have to do those.”

You kept your focus on the dishes in front of you, even as he joined you at the counter. 

“I really don’t mind.”

“You’re an angel.” 

Angel—that had no right sounding so goddamn good coming out of his mouth. 

“That’s probably a bit much, Mr. Seresin.”

“You can call me Jake, you know.”

“I know,” You chuckled. “Just…Just a habit, I guess.” 

“We’ll have to break you of that.”

The assertion made your stomach a flurry of butterflies. You hadn’t been blind to the speculative little looks that he had given you throughout dinner, or the change in his tone as you’d asked about him being lonely.

“Want another one?” You heard. You glanced back toward Jake to find him taking another beer out of the fridge. 

“Sure,” You nodded, “Thanks.” 

You bit your lip as Jake sidled up beside you again, setting the beer down by the sink and taking a sip from his own.

“I’m gonna head up in a bit,” He warned, “But you’re obviously welcome to stay up, do whatever you want.” 

You nodded, trying to ignore the pangs of inadequacy and disappointment that made a home in your chest. 

“Sounds good,” You fibbed. “Long day?” 

“Yeah, and I’ve got a few emails to wrap and send off before I head to bed.” Jake raised the beer to his lips. “Holler if you need anything, though.” 

“Sure! Thanks. And thanks again, for,” You raised a hand, waving around the kitchen, “You know.” 

“Anytime,” He smiled. He patted your back, holding your gaze. “Goodnight.” 

Damn, his hand felt so wide and so warm against your skin. You fought back a shiver, but couldn’t help pressing back into his touch just a little. 

“Night,” You murmured. You saw a slight flicker in his expression, but before you could read into it, Jake was pulling back, his hand falling away. You turned back to the dishes, sighing as his footsteps receded. You could still feel the warmth of his palm against your skin. It was scant contact, but you were pretty sure you’d be thinking about that all night. 

You shut off the sink, looking around. The house was so quiet. What the hell were you going to do? You supposed you could watch something? They had, like, every streaming service known to man, but you didn’t really want to watch anything. You sighed heavily, resigning yourself to a night of reading and fantasizing in your bed.

--  

He shouldn’t have taken them. What the hell was he thinking? Jake eyed the pillow that he’d tucked your underwear beneath, swallowing thickly. He’d spotted them as he’d been leaving the guest room, just plopped atop a pile of clothing next to your duffel bag. He’d been thinking about them all throughout dinner—the dirty little secret waiting for him in his bedroom. He found himself listening for your footsteps, but…Nothing. Maybe he could just sneak them back into your room without you noticing? He could—He was sure he could. 

Jake lifted the pillow away, taking up the scrap of black lace. He hesitated, heart pounding in his chest before he raised them closer. He took a whiff, then moaned quietly, pressing his face fully into the fabric as his dick twitched in his pants. Fuck, he could get addicted to that scent. He glanced back toward the closed door. You wouldn’t be up anytime soon, right? You’d probably stay downstairs, watch something before you headed up. He’d have time to put them back. He could be quick. 

Jake hurriedly stripped off and grabbed some lube before he climbed onto his bed, taking up your panties again. He laid back, grasping himself in his slicked hand and holding the panties to his face with the other. He drew a deep breath in through his nose, humming low in his throat as he jacked his hardening cock. 

You’d been damn near irresistible at dinner. The swell of your breasts had been tantalizingly visible as you’d leaned over your plate. The low back top exposing the expanse of your smooth skin had nearly driven him to distraction when he’d seen you at the sink, and the leggings you’d opted for had made him want to peel them off of you and bend you over the goddamn counter.

Were you still downstairs, laid out on the couch? He’d seen you make yourself at home before, one leg on the cushions, the other on the floor. Jake wanted to push your thighs wide and bury his face between them. He wanted to feel you grind against his lips, hear the little gasps and whines he was sure you’d make. He’d felt you press against him in the kitchen—he was willing to bet you’d be fucking gag for it. 

Jake took in another heady breath, groaning, “Fuck,” Aloud before he could stop himself. 

-- 

You froze at the curse. You’d been on your way to your bedroom when you’d heard it. Was Jake…Okay? Maybe he’d stubbed his toe, or dropped his phone behind the bed, or— 

Your jaw dropped, heart pounding as you heard him moan. There was no way he was making that sound because of a stubbed toe. You bit your lip, creeping closer and pressing your ear to the door. You couldn’t hear as much as you could if you just….Opened the door a little. 

You bit your lip, shaking your head. No way, there was no way you were going to do that. It would be a gross invasion of privacy, he’d surely kick you out of the house if he caught you. But you could listen just a tiny bit more, right? You pressed your ear even closer, letting your eyes slide closed as you heard him panting, cursing.

Was he naked? Had he just tugged his cock out of his sweatpants for a quick one? You slipped your fingers beneath the band of your leggings, toying with your neglected, tingling clit. You breathed softly between your parted lips as you ground against your hand, straining to hear the needy grunts and groans on the other side of the door. Fuck, you had to be quick. If he caught you—

Your heart plummeted into your stomach as you heard him say your name. Your fingers stilled, eyes popping open as you stood outside of his bedroom with your hand in your pants. Could he see your feet beneath the door? Had you made a sound and not realized? What as he going to do—

Jake groaned your name again, the sound chased with a ragged-sounding, “Angel…Mm, fuck, smell so fucking good…” 

You slowly slid your hand out of your pants as you stared down at the doorknob. You could just hardly hear him over the blood roaring in your ears. You swallowed thickly before you raised your shaking hand to the knob, slowly turning it. You opened it slowly, wary of the door creaking. You finally opened it just enough to see the bed. Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of Jake splayed out on top of the sheets, thrusting up into his hand as he pressed something to his nose. He murmured your name again, thighs tensing as his thumb swept across his cock head. You got a better look at the fabric in his hand as your focus adjusted to the dim light of the room. 

You swallowed thickly. You could still leave—he hadn’t seen you. But when would you ever have another chance like this? You’d caught him red-handed. You drew in a deep, steadying breath as you gathered your courage.

“Finish answering those emails?” 

You watched as Jake started, scrambling back and yanking his sheets up to cover his body. You took in his wide, almost wild eyes, and the flush rising in his cheeks. He swallowed thickly. 

“What are you doing in here?” 

“Looking for those,” You nodded toward the panties where they were still balled in his fist. His grip tightened on them as his glance darted to the lace. You climbed onto the bed, straddling his hips. 

“What are you doing?” He asked lowly. You shifted in his lap, thrilling at the feeling of his cock beneath his sheets. 

“What we’ve both been thinking about.” 

“This isn’t right.” “Neither is stealing my panties, but that didn’t stop you.” 

He heaved in a deep breath, jaw going tight. 

“I shouldn’t have taken them and I’m sorry. You—” He sucked in a breath as you shifted in his lap again. “You need to leave."

“Why? So you can finish the job up here yourself?” You searched his face, letting your focus travel down to his broad shoulders and muscled chest. You’ve often seen him in sweat-soaked shirts, caught the slightest patch of skin as he’s raised his shirt to swipe at his forehead, but the glimpses have always been so brief, and few and far between

“I mean I could, but…” You leaned in, raising your pussy-slicked fingers to his face, sliding them against his lower lip, “Then we’d both have to deal have our fun alone.” 

Jake’s tongue swept across his lips, just barely grazing your fingertips as you pulled them back. You watched his eyelashes flutter, his nostrils flare as he took in the scent of you. He tipped his chin up, tongue darting out to sweep across your fingertips. You smoothed your hand over his cheek, stomach swirling with butterflies as he turned his face into your palm. You pressed closer, brushing a kiss along his tight jaw. Jake drew in a deep breath, shaking his head. 

“We shouldn’t,” He mumbled—but the insistence wasn’t nearly as stern as it had been just a few moments okay. You rolled your hips down against him, resting your forehead against his. 

“Do you want me?” 

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is?” You reached down, taking hold of his hand. He let you lift it, fingers trailing gently over your side, around to the band of your leggings. You let it linger there for a moment before you guided it beneath the fabric. You sighed softly as his fingertips grazed your aching clit, and smiled as he reached further down, swiping against your  slick folds.

“You feel that? What you do to me?” You whispered, tipping your hips into his touch. “That’s all for you, Jake.” 

You heard him moan low in his throat, and your heart stuttered as he tipped his chin up, his lips brushing yours. 

“Fuck, angel,” He murmured, “What are you doing to me?” 

Jake’s lips crashed into yours, sending you swaying back, then into him again. You moaned, parting your lips and sharing heated kisses. You whined as Jake leaned back and slid his hand from your leggings, wary that he was changing his mind. Instead, you watched as he lifted his fingers to his lips, sucking them into his mouth before he shoved them into yours. 

You gagged at the sudden intrusion, raising your hand and grasping his wrist as he stroked his fingers along your tongue. You sucked in a greedy breath as he yanked his hand away again, grasping the backs of your thighs and tipping you onto the mattress. You pulled your top up, tossing it off as he grasped your waistband, tugging your leggings down and flinging them away. Your mouth fell open as he dove between your legs, his shoulders pressing your thighs wide. Your eyelids fluttered as his tongue swept across your pussy. 

You shuddered at the slick, heated slide of his tongue against your plumping cunt. His lips brushed, then wrapped around your clit, sucking it tenderly. Your mouth fell open with a moan, your hand sliding down into his closely-cropped hair. You didn’t need to urge him on, or plead. Jake tipped his head from side to side, teasing you messily. You could feel the wet slip of your juices spreading between your thighs with each lash of his tongue. You raised your other hand to your breasts, smoothing your thumb over your pebbling nipple, arching up as your pleasure began to swell. 

You felt so close so quickly, and riled up further as he speared a finger into your throbbing pussy. You felt his head lift, his tongue sweeping from side to side as he pumped and curled his finger, then added another. You bit your lip as your cunt clenched around him, unable to help leaning into the sensation. 

“Jake,” You warned, “I’m— Oh god.” Your warning was bitten off as Jake’s eyes crinkled with his smile. He didn’t let you get another word in as he leveled sucking kisses to your clit. Your mouth fell open, your grip tightening on his hair as your hips bounded down against his lips. He groaned against you, the vibration sparking every nerve in your body as you let yourself go, your eyes squeezed shut as waves of pleasure pulsed through your body. You sagged back against the mattress, heart pounding as Jake drew his fingers from you. His kisses trailed up over your belly, brushing across your breasts before he caught your lips in a filthy kiss. You shivered at the taste of your arousal as it lingered on his tongue. 

You felt his hardened cock brushing against your slick inner thighs as he ground against you. You reached down, curling your fingers around him, and thrilling at the feeling of him in your grasp. You’d seen him earlier, of course, but the light had been dim, and now, with your fingers wrapped around him, he felt so damn big—Not just long, but thick. 

“What do you want, angel?” Jake murmured between kisses. “Anything, ask for anything, I’ll fucking give it to you.”

“I want you to fuck me, Jake.” 

A wide grin split across his face as he pressed his hand between your legs, palming the slick, tender flesh.

“Your wish is my command.” 

--  

“That too much for you?” 

You would’ve been more self-conscious about your needy whimper if it wasn’t for the slight note of strain in his voice. You’d know that you were in for a wild ride when you’d rolled the condom on, but this was next level. You swallowed thickly, your eyelids fluttering and blinking against the well of pleasurable tears. 

“N-no,” You breathed. 

“Good girl. Almost there, angel.” 

Almost? 

“How much more is there?” 

Jake chuckled through your incredulous question. 

“You’re taking me so goddamn well.” His praise made you arch up against him, your breasts brushing against his muscles as you pulled in a shuddering breath. 

“Fucking made for my cock—mm.” His voice dropped to a breathy murmur as his hips finally pressed flush against yours. Your nails dug into the strong, tanned skin of his shoulders. Your cunt clutched at him greedily, adjusting to the almost harsh way his girth spread you. You let your eyes slide closed as he planted his knees on the mattress, levering your hips against his and gaining better purchase. 

Despite your somewhat leisurely preparation and the tender way that he eased into you, the first snap of his hips was almost brutal. Your moan choked out of your throat, a broken yell of his name leaving you as your nails dragged harshly across his skin.

“You have any idea—How long I’ve wanted you?” He grunted between deep thrusts. “How badly I wanted to—fuck—bend you over the goddamn counter earlier?” 

You couldn’t stop the satisfied, thrilled grin that spread your lips, finally certain that your flirty gambit had hit the nail on this particular head.

“You mean you didn’t just steal my panties for fun?” 

Jake huffed a strained laugh as he dipped his head down for a deep, searching kiss. You curled your arms around his shoulders, keeping him close as your hips drove up against his. He broke your kiss with a gentle nip to your lower lip, and a mischievous glint in his eye. 

“Hold on tight, pretty girl.” 

He set an almost furious pace, the sounds of your slapping skin nearly drowning out your whimpers. Your arms tightened around him, clinging to him as he took and took and took. You peered up at him almost wondrously, watching the flex and clenching of his muscles; the roll of his hips; the shine of your juices on his condom covered cock as he fucked you. Your toes curled in the sheets as your legs wrapped around his. 

“Jake,” You moaned, “You feel so fucking big—Fuck, just like that.” 

His growl-edged groan tore through you as his pace seemed to stutter a little. 

“Harder?” You begged. He chuckled cruelly, thumbs swiping against your hips.

“Angel,” He shook his head, “Any harder and I’d break you.” 

You tipped your head back against the pillows, surrendering to his whims—his thrusts, curses, kisses, nips, bites. You cunt throbbed as he drew his cock back, the tip still nestled in your entrance. He watched you closely, eyes dark with want as you strained against his grips and tried to draw him back in. 

“Do you think you could cum just like this?” He murmured. “Hm?”

“I want your cock, Jake.” 

“You have it, angel. You feel that?” You whimpered, wriggling against the sheets as he eased himself back in, inch by tortuously slow inch. “You feel what you do to me?” 

You nodded blearily, growing closer to your orgasm as he grasped your wrists in one of his hands and pulled them up over your head. He curled close again, chest brushing yours as his hips ground into you deeply.

“Jake,” You sighed, forehead knocking against his, arching up against him. “I’m almost—fuck, ‘m so close, please.” 

Jake grinned brightly, sliding his hand between the two of you and toying with your tender clit. Your jaw dropped at the onslaught, your pussy tightening and throbbing as you came. Jake followed close behind, a low, rough growl pushing against your neck as he followed close behind. Your eyes closed as his hips bounded, then stilled. He sighed into your neck, breath hot against your neck as the two of you settled. He tipped his head up, nuzzling your temple as you smoothed your hands over his back.

He drew out of you slowly, your cunt aching and clenching as he pulled away. You swallowed thickly, peering up at the ceiling as you heard Jake get out of bed. It was chased by the click of him turning on his bathroom light, and the hush of running water. 

Oh…God, that was good, but you hadn’t thought about this part. Was he going to ask you to go back to your room? Should he even have to ask? You know what, maybe you should just go right now, before he had to say anything—

You propped yourself up on your elbows as Jake climbed back into bed, gently pushing your thighs apart and wiping you down. You bit back a bashful smile as he pressed a kiss to your hip. You watched him lob the washcloth toward the hamper before he cuddled close, propping his hands up beside your elbows. 

“Going somewhere?” He asked. 

“Bed?” 

“You’re in one, angel.” Jake lowered his head, brushing his lips against yours. “But you’re welcome to go back to yours if you like.” 

You leaned up, taking his lower lip between your teeth and giving it a tug, grinning as he pressed closer, lowering the both of you back onto the sheets.

Tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @amneris21 ; @ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; @millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa​ ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices​ ; @missswriter ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce ; @lorecraft ; @kmc1989

[ieatfanficforbrunch]

People Pleaser Steve

Steve is a people pleaser. Years of living with his parents and their demeaning stares and harsh words have destroyed his sense of self preservation.

"Keep Eye Contact, Steven," his mother would say. "Stop Complaining, You need to make our guest Comfortable." His father would say. Until the age of ten all Steve got was criticism. Constant reminders on how to behave perfectly and how to appease his parents.

The morning they decided he was old enough to stay home himself, coincidentally on his 10th birthday, they packed up and started renting an apartment in Chicago to better monitor their Business. They sent him money for food, got him a bike so he could go to school, they even sent a few extra 20s every other month so he could get new clothes as he grew.

Of course, Steve never complained. This was how he kept the peace, how he avoided the cold glare from his parents.

The pattern continued into adulthood, Steve practically raised himself for the last 8 years of his childhood, he only saw his parents when they needed him.

When he (accidently) became the mother of the nerdiest bunch of kids in Hawkins, he made himself a promise, No matter what he'd be there. Every recital, every birthday party, every holiday, and every time they needed a ride; he was there.

When Christmas came around after everything had happened, after Max had recovered and Eddie's wounds had healed perfectly, he decided he would make it the best Christmas they'd ever seen. Just to make them happy.

He decorated the entire house, made enough food to feed his small football team of a group, he got so many presents for everyone that he had to skip out on food three days a week for two months just because he wanted it to be perfect.

The kids came over on Christmas Eve night to spend the night together, slept in sleeping bags he bought special for them. Eddie came to help wrangle the crazies until Robin got back from visiting her grandparents in Ohio.

They ate like they were starving or like it was their last meal. All except Steve, who was too afraid to overstep or take away from someone else to even try one of the many kinds of food he made.

The games died down and the food was gone by midnight. The kids slept peacefully in their sleeping bags. Steve let out a small sigh, a smile on his face as he stood and took empty platters and plates to the kitchen.

He washed the dishes in silence, a baggy crew neck sweater replacing his usual polos. He knew if he wore them the others would notice he had lost weight and he didn't want to inconvenience them. It was rude to burden others with your problems. He honestly thought he had gotten away with it until a familiar Metal head guided him to the kitchen table.

"Ok Big boy, This isn't working for me," He said in a soft voice.

Steve immediately looked up, "I'm sorry, it won't happen again," he whispered, not even sure what he did.

Eddie sighs and says, "Steve, You think you're hiding it so well but you aren't. You take care of everyone and everything all of the time. Let me take care of you."

Steve couldn't move, couldn't respond, How Was he supposed to behave? He didn't know so he merely nodded.

Eddie smiled and immediately made Steve a bowl of cereal, something small and quiet. When he was positive Steve would eat it, he finished the dishes for him.

Steve looked so beat down and tired, the bags under his eyes told so much and Eddie knew that from now on he would do Everything to keep them away.

He took the empty bowl and washed it before walking over to Steve. "I know it's a bit early but...I got you something," he whispers, pulling out a small box from his back pocket.

It was a light blue box with a thin red ribbon and white trim. Steve's thin fingers removed the lid to find a locket in the shape of a guitar pick.

Inside there were two pictures, one with the kids, and one with Steve and Eddie. It was the picture from when Eddie was discharged, the day Steve agreed to get treatment for his wounds. Eddie's arm is around Steve's shoulders, it's the only picture in the world with Steve's Real smile. His eyes swelled with tears. It's the only gift he's gotten since he was 10, since his parents left to run their company, since Everything.

"Shit I didn't mean to make you cry again! I just-" Eddie is cut off with the tightest hug he's ever gotten.

"It's Perfect," Steve whispers.

He's met with calloused hands on the back of his head, gently massaging his scalp.

"Merry Christmas, Harrington."

"Merry Christmas, Munson."

[bythepen98]

Doodles || Tomarry || Childhood friends/Growing Up Together au

(Ignore the not-so-time-period-accurate outfits)

Think of this as a timetravel au where Harry accidentally gets sent back to the past in Wool's orphanage at a young enough age where he barely notices the changes caused by the time displacement and thus grows up nonethewiser to his destiny as the Chosen One. Even when, objectively, his life at the orphanage could be considered worse considering the growing lack of food, his environment's state of decay and overall unrest happening outside the orphanage's walls, something about his situation felt right(?).

He'd always felt disconnected and out of place based on the few memories he still had from living with the Dursleys but now, it felt like he was home in a way. Like something finally clicked in his brain, his soul.

His instant connection to Tom helped cement that fact. It wasn't easy at first because the pull they felt when they first met was so strong that it scared Harry shtless and Tom, already half-full of resentment by this point, was horrified feeling anything to anyone that wasn't disgust. In the end, it didn't take long for them to meet halfway since they were still children and curiosity at the connection lured them in like candy; Harry wanted a special friend of his own and Tom convinced himself that Harry was worth his time because there was no way anyone ordinary could elicit such a soul deep response from him.

Tom has a mean streak and is more bloodthirsty than his charming facade would show but is honest about it with Harry. Although he doesn't have much to his name, Tom is serious about his self-imposed role as Harry's provider, giving him gifts (from the money he steals) during his birthdays and keeping him as warm and well fed as possible (by bullying the other kids into surrendering their share).

Sometimes, Tom....worries.....that his methods would eventually drive Harry - who has such an inherent goodness in him, so often kind to people who don't deserve it - away but what he fails to understand is that Harry's love and loyalty to the first friend he's ever made trumps any kindness he has for others. He'll never like needless violence and won't react if he was being targeted but all bets are off if he even a catches a whiff of plots against Tom. If he has to help hide a body or two in the future so that they won't be separated by something as inconvenient as jail or the law, then that's nobody's business but his own.

P.S. This Harry will probably go to Hufflepuff instead of Slytherin like in other fics. It just feels right. Probably should've drawn him wearing a yellow tie but only just got the idea as I'm typing this. Tom would rather eat slugs than go to the Hufflepuff common room but he's more than willing to entertain Harry at the Slytherin common room at every available chance. They have their own seat there and everything.

P.P.S. They also co adopt a tiny(??) baby snake when they realize they can both speak parseltongue and bring him along to hogwarts. Imagine being parents at the big old age of 10 to a possibly magical snake that may or may not grow past nagini-level size.

P.P.P.S. Future power couple in the making. Didn't think that far ahead whether I wanted Tom to go the political route or Dark Lord Voldemort style minus the horcruxes. Don't ask for me the details, just know that with Harry's help, Tom finds a way to prolong their lives without the consequences that come with using horcruxes. They may or may not discover that Harry is in fact a horcrux of Tom already but will never get the answer as to how it happened. Harry worries but Tom just chocks it up as the universe's way of paying him back for his shtty pre-Harry childhood. Ironically the type to believe in soulmates and destiny while Harry is a bit more skeptical on that front.

Alternatively, they could also decide not to do anything too significant -politically- at all and instead retire to the country side while doing research on as many branches of magic as they can. A bit laughable because of Tom's world altering ambitions and Harry's indulgent, enabling behavior but at the same time, anything's possible.

[dreamsinmoonlight]

Angel Massages

(Welp as promised, the sequel to Angel Cocoon, as voted on by the public. Rejoice!

Definitely didn't write most of this with my Adam plush on my lap, don't know what you're talking about

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Characters: Adam, angel!reader

Pairing: Adam x reader

Genre: Comfort, fluff (this time with a tiny bit more spice)

Summary: You deserve a medal for loving this idiot as much as you do. Aka Adam gets a massage and care.)

“This is your own fault you big goof.” The grumble you got in response was expected.

Mornings in heaven, with a lover like Adam, were pretty routine: you woke up, you found yourself encased in a cocoon of feathers and slightly squishy flesh, you'd end up laying there until finally the man himself decided to wake up, and then this. Without fail he woke up, blinking in that lazy sleepy way of his, and took note of your presence; this then turned into him giving one of those smug grins of his and holding you closer, rubbing his face against yours. This as always caused you to whine and complain, playfully of course, because of his stubble and you pushed at him to no avail as he stretched out his wings and you finally were able to a) see your room and b) get up.

“What babe, don't like a little early morning affection?” he asked, as if he didn't know exactly why you were trying to get free; he snickered and one hand found it's way further down, trailing down your body with obvious intent, “Maybe you'd prefer it a different way?”

Adam snickered and stuck out that tongue of his and you did your best to resist him, pushing at his chest. He was considerably larger and stronger than you, meaning he could easily hold you in place if he so wished, but he decided to be kind enough to let you get free and you shook your head at him. “You're incorrigible I swear.”

This made him laugh, and to say the sound of it didn't do things to you would be a lie. But you knew what was coming and like clockwork it did; he laughed and his wings stretched and then his expression turned annoyed and grumpy when the effects of sleeping with his wings wrapped around you two inevitably hit him. The soreness caused him to start whining loudly and lower the appendages, practically dragging them on the bed.

You sighed softly and climbed out of his lap, watching and listening to your giant manchild of a boyfriend complain. “Lay down already, Adam.”

“My wings are so sore,” he groaned, with the kind of tone you'd expect of if he was dying; it had occurred to you a while ago that to him, any sort of inconvenience was no different than that, a fact you were not sure if it was him exaggerating or actually so. It was always hard to tell.

You did your best to try not to laugh or smile too much at how he was acting, it tended to make him act out more and honestly you just wanted to make him feel better quickly so he'd go back to being his usual smug, grinning self. Again you sighed and got up, stepping around the bed to gently try to push him forward. “Adam, come on, please lay down.”

He continued his complaining but eventually did as you instructed, laying down with his wings stretched out. The first time you did this you had been struck with the beauty of his wings, to the point of distraction honestly; it was hard to concentrate when you're faced with something so pretty as those golden feathers on those long thin wings. The bed, large as it was and it was fairly big, couldn't really handle the full length of them so while they were not folded persay, they weren't actually entirely stretched out. You though were used to that and so was the crybaby continuing to act like it was the end of the universe and his wings were going to fall off or something.

For the thousandth time you thought about how much you loved this stupid, reckless, egotistical moron but aloud told him how this was his own fault before taking one of the wings gently in your hands and starting to manipulate it. You'd done this enough times, you knew exactly where to press and where to knead, and you couldn't resist smiling as you felt those warm feathers under your fingertips, the muscles and tendons and bones that all made up those magnificent wings; you felt them twitch and move, responding to even the lightest touch from you. You started near the middle and went outwards towards the tips, easing the tension out little by little before going inward again, moving towards there they joined into his back. It was a seamless point, as it was on all angels you suspected, but you moved it nevertheless, the way the soft down of Adam's wings became the warmth of his flesh and back as you moved to the other wing. You took your time and you bit your lip as you heard his complaints and whines and moans turn from pained and irritated to far more pleased. Maybe a little too pleased.

“God babe, you know how to make me feel good,” he groaned and the slight rumble to his voice could be felt down below.

“I'm not done yet,” you warned, feeling him shift and move, knowing that Adam had only a few true virtues and patience was 100% not one of them.

“Then go faster.” Not a request, a demand, and one you were going to ignore no matter what he said or did or made you feel with that voice of his.

“And risk your wings still being sore later? Besides we both know you like it when I go slow with this.” You smiled, feeling a bit playful as you continued what had become your morning routine; currently working on his own wing, going slow and deliberate as usual, you pressed your fingers into one particular spot, reveling in the reaction you knew you'd get.

You'd found it entirely by accident the first time, a little after this whole thing started, and usually you did your best to avoid touching it too much for this exact reason. It seemed to send a shock of electricity through his whole body and the noise that came from him was best described as “fuck yes”; his wings shuddered and stretched to their full length, causing one side to end up over the side of the bed and brushing against the carpet and the other side to very nearly slam directly into the wall. You managed to keep that one folded enough to avoid that disaster, that would have been counterproductive. Adam buried his face in the sheets and you were certain you heard swearing, he hated that you knew about that spot and hated it even more that you weren't afraid to use it for your own amusement and delight. But probably, you were certain, he hated it the most that his ears turned bright red and were not so easy to hide. There was definitely some growling and you leaned down to place a kiss between his shoulder blades with an angelic smile. It was easy since you were indeed an angel.

The fact he behaved after that was a miracle you were certain but not one that was going to end well for you. You knew too well your boyfriend, and you knew that while patience wasn't his strong suit, vengeance was. You took your time with his wings, enjoying every second of peace you got from this, knowing full well of what would happen next and doing your best to mitigate the damage. You completed your ministrations upon his wings and were about to massage his back, usually a good idea considering, but your hands never got close to touching that space again.

Despite his size Adam was a dangerously quick creature. He was dangerous in many ways as you knew. And the glint in his golden eyes as he managed, with agility and speed one wouldn't easily expect from someone like him, to pin you under him, his hands holding your wrists to the bed, it was enough to send your heart rate racing.

“You're a naughty girl making me wait, sugartits,” he spoke, his teeth showing in the shark grin he had now, that he so often had, “Lets see how you like it.”

His teeth found your neck and you let out only the smallest of complaints. Maybe, just maybe, you shouldn't have teased him. Now it was going to be you who was sore.

Oh well.

[personasintro]

Mutual Help | #33

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, mature content

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.9k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 

December rolls quickly, along with the first snow of the year coating buildings' roofs and the roads. As much as you were excited when you saw the first snowflakes dropping from the sky and melting right away, with your troublesome car it has become inconvenient. You pray every morning that your car's battery isn't dead or there won't be any other trouble waiting for you the second you sit into the car.

Snow has been one of the few things, your favorite things, you appreciate about winter. You don't like the cold that much, wearing too many layers of clothing that it becomes hard to move in, it never has appealed to you that much. Christmas, the family holiday that is approaching very closely, is a part of your favorite things in and about winter. Which reminds you you should buy presents sooner than two days before Christmas like you did last year.

You're planning to go back to your hometown, obviously spending a family holiday with none other than your own family. And even though you've in mind what to get to your parents, you've no idea what to get to Jungkook. You know him, knowing what he likes and does in his free time but fuck, it's so hard to buy him something. The man is successful enough to buy anything he likes, and he does enjoy expensive things. Things you probably can't afford with your bills and additional expenses for your car. The bar pays well, in three months or so, you'll be able to actually look around for a better car. And although you know if Jungkook heard your thoughts and struggles about his Christmas gift, he'd assure you not to buy him anything. But you can't exactly do that, can you?

Coincidentally, the mentioned man is right in front of you in his natural habitat and by that, you mean doing one of the things he loves most. Taking pictures. Apparently Junho has been so pleased with the outcome of Jungkook's pictures he provided for the company last month, that he has decided to call him over again. This time Jungkook prepared you for his presence, not forgetting to point out that Junho must like him since he called him personally and asked him to do today's photoshoot.

Poor women are in their bikinis, just a casual set of beige bikinis, nothing too sexy, probably freezing even though there are a set of heaters around them to keep them warm. Jungkook is making sure to work quickly, you notice the way he eyes the women with worried eyes when he sees one of them shiver slightly.

Although you've seen Jungkook taking pictures countless times, there's something different seeing him doing it while actually working. It's not for fun or his personal interest, he's working while being professional. You're not blind, seeing models eyeing the young photographer with tattoos on display while they suddenly don't mind the cold that much is somehow relatable. However, you're not freezing and you're behind the scenes of it all, but still having a perfect view of Jungkook's back. Even from the place you're standing, you can notice his arms flexing each time he pulls up the camera and takes a few shots. With each model he's done, doing solo but couple shots as well, he starts reviewing the pictures with a prominent and focused frown.

"Is it just me or it's suddenly hot in here?"

Glancing at your co-worker, you see him fan his face before he gives you an obvious mischievous smirk.

"The heaters do an amazing job." you comment, straightening yourself as you hand a fluffy robe to one of the models that walks to Jungkook, looking at the pictures he has taken of her.

You notice the way she stands right behind him, making sure her chest brushes against his shoulder but Jungkook being a total gentleman and too busy working, he apologizes softly and gives her more space by scooting a little. You suppress a snort that wants to get out but Yoongi is quicker, his own snort sounding beside you. The only difference is, his reaction isn't aimed at what you just saw but on your very own comment.

"I'd say your boyfriend does an amazing job." he muses, earning a glare from you because obviously, he's doing and saying it just to get on your nerves.

He knows he's not your boyfriend, he even knows he was never one in the first place. You're still not sure how he knows that, it feels like one second he was determined that you and Jungkook are a real thing and the other he already knew the truth. Of course, you realize you've told him when he kept being annoying but still... you can't believe he knows.

"Are you trying to get on my nerves, Min?" you murmur, clearing your throat while staring ahead at the staff preparing the studio for another photoshoot.

"I thought I already got on your nerves." he says innocently, feigning innocence of course. There's no way this man is innocent or is capable of anything like that.

You look at the watch that hugs your wrists, aware of Yoongi's eyes on you knowing he's waiting for your reaction. Surely, you could just ignore him but where's the fun in that?

"Just two more hours." Is all you say, sighing underneath your breath knowing very well he hears you.

Two more hours and then he won't be getting on your nerves. Somehow, you've slowly grown resistant to his remarks and they don't piss you off as much. However, that doesn't mean he doesn't piss you off at all. He does. A lot.

"You're not getting rid of me that easily, grumpy."

Grumpy. Yes, somehow that became your nickname. You do have to admit, you're grumpy whenever Yoongi is around but that's completely not your fault. The person at fault is standing right beside you and calls you that stupid nickname. One thing you learned about Yoongi is, the less you react the more he lets you breathe.

"Two hours and then I'm out." you remind him of your actual working schedule but all he does is smirk in return.

"Hmm, we'll see about that." he hums, causing your brows to pinch in confusion and before you can question him, Sophia, one of your co-workers calls out for him to help her with something.

He grumbles but moves his legs across the room to help her with whatever she starts telling him. Junho calls out for a short break, reminding everyone that it's only a fifteen minute break and then everyone is going back to work.

The models wear their robes quickly, going to one of the dressing rooms to prepare for the next photoshoot while you reach for your already cold tea, slowly sipping on it. You notice Jungkook putting down his camera on the table, beside the laptop and a set of cables before he makes his way towards you.

There's a glint of amusement in his eyes which you recognize immediately. "I don't think I've ever seen you so annoyed like when you're next to that guy." he jokes, sitting on one of the stools in the back of the room as you join him, sitting beside him.

You follow his vision of eyes, noticing he's looking at Yoongi who sports the same frown as he grumbles something under his breath. "He likes to annoy me, that's why. I've to hold myself from punching him in the face, Junho would have me fired if I ever did such a thing." you grumble, causing Jungkook to glance at you as he tries to recognize if you're all serious or partly joking.

In this case you're partly joking. You're not a violent person, even when it comes to annoying a human being such as Yoongi. You wouldn't actually hurt him, but you do imagine punching him sometimes. It eases your mind whenever he has one of his famous remarks.

"Is he treating you badly?" Jungkook asks, frowning while he sends a glare to completely oblivious Yoongi across the room, ready to fight him if you tell on him.

You chuckle, shaking your head. "Calm down, you hero. He's just annoying, that's all. He helped me to find a job at the bar, he's the one whose brother owns it. He is annoying but he's not a bad person. Fuck, I hope no one heard me right now." you mutter, jokingly looking at Jungkook as he snorts.

"Maybe he likes you." Jungkook shrugs after a moment while grinning at you teasingly, eyes glancing back at Yoongi.

You let out an ugly snort, looking around to see if someone heard you. Thank God, no one did, besides Jungkook but he's used to your weird and ugly noises.

"He probably likes you more than me." you state, earning a confused look from Jungkook.

Before another word can be uttered between you two, Junho comes rushing back into the studio, ushering everyone to get back to their places. Jungkook looks at his expensive watch, glancing at you with even bigger confusion than from your previous words.

"Five minutes only passed." he informs you while you almost snicker at the innocence of his features and the soft voice.

It's usual Junho gives everyone a break but shortens it himself when he feels like it. There's no explanation for that, just describing how big of an asshole he truly is.

"Welcome to my world." you chime, standing up from your seat while Jungkook pouts at the short break but follows you nevertheless.

Perhaps Yoongi is annoying co-worker, but Jungkook's presence does bring at least some kind of comfort even though he barely has the time to speak to you. However, whenever there is time he always makes sure to stop by and chat with you, ignoring the heart eyes from the literal young models just so he can talk to you.

Working in a bar has become essential to your daily life. Sure, you're working your ass off to be able to get yourself a better car and you wish your Saturdays and sometimes Sundays would be free, but you can't really complain about the job itself. You were a little worried at first, not knowing what to expect because the thought of you working in a bar full of horny and sweaty people didn't sound that appealing. It still doesn't. But everyone is so nice, Mark has been a huge help and a support, praising your work even in front of Yejun which is always nice since he's the boss.

Sometimes he'd help at the bar, making a small chat with you to question your contentment with the job. He's more around than you thought he'd be, considering he's owning this club and has employees for almost everything. Even just from the two months you're working here, you could notice how much this place means to him. Yeah, it's a club but it doesn't mean it's dirty business or something. According to Mark, his parents weren't too happy with Yejun investing all his money to make this club what it is today. He started from scratch, risking a lot if you must say.

Mark gives you a wave when he sees you entering the club, later than usual which you hope nobody will scold you for, and you quickly wave him back making your way to the dressing room. Good thing is you managed to take a nap before you came here, resulting in you sleeping longer than you were planning. In the middle of your deep slumber, you somehow managed to turn off the alarm that you reliably set on to make sure you don't sleep over. Of course, you did. Only for you to snap your eyes open when you suspiciously slept for a long time.

You nod at the bouncer sitting at a bar, waiting for the opening hours which starts in less than ten minutes before you barge into the dressing room.

For a moment you completely ignore another presence in the room, rushing yourself to get ready as soon as possible but knowing Mark and everyone else seems to be already getting things around the club ready, your eyes snap at the person shutting one of the lockers.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," you gasp, eyes widening at the sight of smirking Yoongi wearing white shirt with club's logo (which everyone who works as a bartender here is wearing) with black jeans and some white sneakers. "What are you doing here?"

You're speechless, not understanding his sudden presence or the fact he's wearing the club's attire.

"I told you you're not gonna get rid of me that easily," he muses, obviously pleased with your reaction because he's that evil. "My brother is away and asked me to help out a bit."

You're slightly caught off guard hearing him explain his reason behind being here, you thought he would care less to give you an explanation. Nodding, you let the door shut behind you with a louder bang as you warily stare at him.

"What?" he barks. You're not surprised by his reaction at this point, expecting it. He's not the only one who gets on your nerves. You can do the same thing.

Opening your locker, you hide your grin behind it as you pull out your working attire. As you shut the locker, you look at him with a raised brow. "Do you mind? I've to change." you tell him sweetly, battling your eyelashes at him as he stares at you with a frown.

He doesn't look too shocked, but you know he's surprised by the sweetness of your voice. He expected you to bark back. Thus, that's why you haven't done it. Just when you think you got him, a pleased smirk about to curve on your lips, you watch his own lips to do the same before you can.

"Ah," he pouts, "You won't give me a show?" He even has the audacity to eye your body, mockingly chuckling at the sweatpants you're wearing.

In your defense, you've worn something comfortable knowing you'll change your clothes in the club anyway. And the sweatpants are nice and like you said, comfortable. Okay, maybe with the black winter jacket you're wearing you may look like you're about to take the trash out, but that's completely irrelevant.

"Get out." you mutter through gritted teeth, seeing him beam you with a pleased smile.

"Gladly." he sings out, waving you off as he leaves you in the dressing room alone.

When the door shut, you shake your head with a snicker escaping past your lips. You've no idea how you'll make it tonight without actually killing him. Being with him during the day is one thing but being with him after it is another.

Surprisingly, when the club opens and everyone starts working, Yoongi minds his own business and is actually doing an amazing job at managing the club and replacing his brother. Even everyone out of your co-workers seems to be thrilled that Yoongi is here.

"Mark, can you grab the kitchen wipes from the back?" Yoongi yells at Mark who's on the other side of the bar with two more barmen.

He looks at Yoongi immediately, nodding while a soft blush spreads on his cheeks. You can notice it even from the distance and in such lightning. He even smiles shyly in Yoongi's way before he scurries away to the storage room.

You're wiping the counter, stealing a glance at Yoongi who's already looking at you with a grin. "What?"

"What was that?" You don't beat around the bush, voicing out your curiosity as you can't help but smirk at remembering Mark's shy face. You've never seen him being so shy and Yoongi is obviously the reason why he reacted that way.

"We hooked up a few times." he shrugs, revealing the information freely to you as you choke up on your spit, eyes widening.

You stop wiping the counter, turning yourself to Yoongi who has an amused grin on his face. "You--you two hooked up?" You'd never guess it.

"Is that so hard to believe?" he asks, pursing his lips in amusement as he takes the wipe that got neglected by you and starts wiping the rest of the counter.

"No, I... I'm just surprised. I'd have never guessed that you and Mark... are you dating?"

You wouldn't admit it out loud, but Yoongi seems like a mystery to you. You know him but you don't. Every little information about him is interesting and that's because you're so damn curious.

"No, I don't date." he chuckles, finishing wiping as he tosses the wipe into the bin.

"Isn't that what people usually say? And then they'll fall in love with someone and change their opinion about dating?" you muse amusingly, hearing him chuckle as he shakes his head.

"I'm not against dating. It's just not my thing but I don't rule it out." he answers, surprising you by the honesty in his voice.

There are times when the two of you are civil and can actually talk to each other without any bickering, or something that would cause the two of you to be irritated with each other.

You nod, sighing as you look at the busy crowd. You don't comment any further, you already got enough of an answer and your mind is preoccupied by the sight in front of you. The dance floor is filled with sweaty bodies and everybody humping each other, which isn't quite an unexpected view but you also don't let your eyes drift elsewhere like usual. You look at the young couple, dancing near the bar, in their own world as they look like they're five seconds from fucking. You can't see the guy's face clearly but you can tell he's well built and obviously knows how to move. The girl he's dancing with is pressed against his chest with her back, grinding her ass into him while he holds her tightly, lips brushing her ear.

You gulp, looking away with red cheeks when you realize you've been staring at them. You've never missed sex that much like you'd go crazy if you haven't had it, but you've already experienced what it feels like to be sexually frustrated. However, there was Jungkook who helped you with that at that time but he's not available to do that anymore. Unfortunately, your hands don't do much and even though the shower head can bring you at least some kind of orgasm, it's nothing mind blowing. Jungkook literally ruined your sexlife because even you are not enough to make yourself feel good.

He has shown you how good you can enjoy yourself and now there are times when you think about all the times he pounded you to the mattress. It's wrong to think this about your best friend, you two are no longer hooking up. You both act like it has never happened in the first place. You're glad you were able to go back to just being best friends who don't fuck each other. It hasn't been weird between you which you're thankful for. None of you do a big deal out of it and you've no idea when this sudden frustration is coming from. Okay, maybe it's not sudden. Jungkook isn't only attractive but brought the best orgasms to you. It would be a sin to forget what you experienced with him in bed (or anywhere else he has taken you).

"Is there someone you like?"

Your thoughts fade away as soon as you hear Yoongi, met with a cocky smirk. Fuck, of course he enjoyed you eyeing the couple.

You look back at the couple before you realize what you're doing, seeing the guy interweaving their fingers as he leads her out of the club. Great, at least someone is getting laid.

"No," you answer, looking at Yoongi who takes a gulp of his water bottle. "Not at all." you murmur, avoiding his grin that he's trying to cover with the bottle while he's drinking.

Ignoring the fact Yoongi has caught you staring at the couple, you hear him chuckle. "You can go home."

You raise your brows in surprise, glancing at the small clock to see you still have half an hour to work. "You sure?" you ask, head tilting towards the crowded dance floor.

It's half past eleven and your shift ends at midnight. One of the things you appreciate about working in this bar and Yejun as a boss, you both agreed you won't be working until closing time which is around two in the morning, if it's not completely necessary. This way you get to earn some money but still get enough sleep.

"Don't make me repeat it," he murmurs and rolls his eyes, before he stares at you with a grin. "Yeah, Tania is supposed to come in a few minutes,"

Tania, one of the other bartenders you still haven't met yet. You remember Yejun and Mark mentioning her once but that's it. She usually comes after midnight and helps around the bar until it's closing time.

As much as you wish to lay in your bed and rest your eardrums that shake from the loud music, you need the money and Saturdays are the only days you can work. You usually keep your Sundays free, considering you've got your job on Monday and even though you need money, you still need a rest too.

Yoongi notices your hesitation, probably knowing the reason behind it. "I won't tell anyone, you'll still get paid as if you stayed until midnight." he says, noticing the way your face lights up but then you look at him with a suspicious frown.

"This won't backfire at me, right?"

He laughs, actually laughs as his shoulders shake while he shakes his head at your absurdity. Well, he can't blame you for being suspicious about him being good and doing you a favor without you even asking for it.

"Believe it or not, I'm not that evil." he says, an amused grin spreads on his lips as you think it through.

Fuck it. You're tired and Yoongi is the boss now (not that you'd tell him that), it'd just boost his ego.

"Okay, thank you." you tell him, seeing him giving you a nod as he waves you before one of the customers is ready to order drinks, stealing his attention.

Freshly showered and wrapped in your soft sheets, you toss around for like a hundredth time causing you to groan in frustration. You've been yawning ever since you laid into bed but can't seem to sleep. Somehow, your mind doesn't let you and thinks it's better for you to stare at the dark ceiling or toss around. No matter how many times you do that, your body doesn't find the comfortable position to fall asleep in and your mind keeps drifting to the time when you didn't have to worry about not getting enough pleasure. Jungkook has always made sure your needs were taken care of. And fuck, it's so wrong for you to think about him or the time you got to spend together (time when he fucked you, so all that left your mouth were moans and hs name). But you can't help it, your mind keeps going back to him and you let the memories replay.

Memories of him touching you, tasting you and stretching you with his thick length. You remember tasting him for the first time, intimidated by his size before it all went away as soon as you tasted him. It was so hard to get him to let out a sound of pleasure, making you think you're not doing that great job at it. But then you let him fuck your throat, him being the first to have the privilege to do that and fuck, was he excited to. Or the time he spanked you and warned you when you forgot to count how many spanks he gave to your already red ass cheeks. You find yourself thinking about him letting his fingers slide into your heat while you were taking a shower, or all the explicit things he used to say to all the time. Jungkook is sex on legs, that much you're certain. He wouldn't even touch you between your thighs to get you aroused and all wet for him. His mouth and words coming out of it were just enough.

Yearning for someone else's touch (or specifically Jungkook's but you'd never admit that, not even to yourself) it's not that hard for you to get the wetness pool between your legs. You shift uncomfortably, wondering if this is the right time to touch yourself when you know your fingers aren't enough. Another idea pops in your head, your teeth nibbling onto your lower lip as you think it through. You said to yourself you'd never do that, not alone because you insisted on not needing that. But the temptation and the wetness uncomfortably spreading over your pajama pants persuades you.

Groaning, you toss away the blanket and turn on your night lamp. Your legs move on their own and you're already getting out of bed, crouching in front of it to pull out the box you've hidden there. You stare at it, remembering when Jungkook handed it to you like it was yesterday.

You remember when Jungkook sneaked it into your travel bag once you've stayed over at his place. You didn't have to wonder what's in the box because how could you forget? His number was quickly speed dialed and you waited for him to pick up, barely letting him to greet you as you bombarded him with questions. He had the audacity to laugh and inform you he cleaned the toy since the last time you've used it, no... since the last time he has used it on you. You grumbled something along the lines he's stupid for thinking you'll use it.

If he could see you right now, crouching on your bedroom floor and opening the box, he'd certainly feel all too smug about being right.

The toy looks just like new, no trace of being used before. You're stupid. What else have you expected? Your cum dried on it? You cringe at your own thoughts, feeling slightly embarrassed as you take it into your hand and press on the button, jumping in shock when the toy comes to life. It keeps vibrating in your hands, the soft buzzing sound making the tip of your ears red. You turn it off, gulping at the sight of it because it's almost too identical to Jungkook's own dick.

"Fuck it," you whisper to yourself, hopping back on bed with the toy in your hand. You shimmy out of your pajamas, glad for the heating being turned on so you're not cold. It'll take a moment for your body to warm itself from the arousal.

Placing the toy beside you, you make yourself comfortable as you start by cupping your breasts. Your hands are small, way smaller than Jungkook's and the touch doesn't do much. Sighing, you don't let it discourage you as you trail your hand between your legs, while the other one pinches your nipple. Your fingers circle your clit, imagining they're not yours but it's not that easy. You're surprised how wet you already are, the months of absence from sex taking its tool on you and even though you're much more sensitive now, it doesn't do much. You retrieve your hands off your body, reaching for the toy. Nobody's got the time for this bullshit when you feel yourself not being that aroused from it. You bring the toy back to life, the buzzing still makes you slightly embarrassed which causes you to chuckle at your absurdity. People do this all the time. Why the fuck are you so weird about this? It's just Jungkook's stupid head and face popping up in your mind and the fact he ordered this for you. Best friend in the world for sure.

You let the toy press against your clit, a shivered breath leaving your mouth as you feel the first vibrations of the sextoy. You press it harder, circling it over the sensitive bud as you hear the wet sounds of your juices meeting the toy. Doing this for a couple of minutes, you quickly grow bored and not as aroused as at the beginning, so you decide to let the tip slide into you. It feels good but not what you expected. You don't give up and start pushing the toy deeper, barely halfway before you pull it away. It's not that bad. You repeat the process, pumping the pink vibrator while it vibrates against your walls.

Surprisingly, you even let out a couple of hushed moans while you try to roll your hips into the toy, but that's it. You try taking more of it or even quickening the pace, nor touching your breasts or clit helps that much. So, you shamefully think about the times Jungkook fucked you so hard he made you see stars. The sound of his body colliding with yours is almost distant, sounds so explicit that used to make you wet even more. Or you remember when the two of you fought and then had sex. He slowed down his usual feral and rushed pace, muttered with his deep and raspy voice how good you feel and how sorry he is. It was slow but intense just as much, full of emotions where you could feel how sorry he is without him even saying it, even though he made sure he said it. You do this for a few more minutes before you come to the conclusion you won't orgasm like this. It doesn't feel better, even worse as you feel yourself not being that aroused or wet. You're not Jungkook and he's not here. Pulling out the toy, you throw it onto bed frustratedly as you let out a groan.

"Fuck," you curse, rubbing your palms over your face. Just as arousal came, it leaves and leaves you disappointed all over again. "Fucking Jeon, what have you done to me?" you mutter, voice muffled by your palms.

He showed you there is possibly no one who could fuck you better. Not even yourself. That's what he has done to you.

Starting your Monday by being back to work and having to make constant phone calls has busied you enough to the point, you don't think about the Saturday failure of trying to make yourself orgasm. Probably your biggest fail this year, if not of your entire life and that speaks volume.

"That's a wrap for today, guys!" Junho claps his hands, showing one of his rare smiles while everyone seems more than revealed by the information. You can't blame them, the very few people from stuff that have decided to work overtime have been here since the early morning. You included, since one of the companies in Japan that holds a fashion show every year has asked for a collaboration with your company, wanting some of the models from the agency.

Junho had been more than eager to jump at the opportunity, nor you can blame him. Some of these people in this very room came all the way from Japan, just to make sure they're present and met everyone which could've been easily done through a video chat like you'd expect them to do. They pleasantly surprised you, proved to be professional and very kind like it's been said about them.

You listen to Junho voicing out his appreciation, which surely is just his tactic to kiss your new business partners' asses, thanking everyone while you're packing your stuff like the rest of the people in the room do, praying he'll shut up soon. You even notice some raised eyebrows coming from your co-workers at Junho's forced politeness and kindness which, to be honest, wants you to let out an amused snicker.

"Be careful everyone, the roads are crazy right now." he says at the end, which makes you look out of the window and notice the snow hasn't eased that much since this morning. It's noticeable even in the darkness of Monday's evening.

Whether his words are honest or not, it's still nice he pointed that out.

As much as you love snow and when it's snowing, you can't find much joy in removing the snow off your car. Once you finally get to your car, you're freezing your ass off while you pray your engine will start working. You haven't had that much problem with it, a few times Yoongi had to come to your rescue while he kept grumbling under his breath but nevertheless, he helped you. It wasn't for free, you're not that heartless to let him help you just like that. You made sure to bring him his Iced Americano a few times, even in December because apparently, he doesn't give a fuck and loves it even in this season. However, Yoongi is already back at home, or wherever he went after his shift ended. To say it this way, if you'll have trouble with the engine again, you would have to ask one of the people that are coming out of the company anyway and pray there'll be someone able to help you, or you'd have to call one of your friends to rescue you.

Luckily, the sound of your engine starting and working is probably one of the nicest things of today and you let out a relieved sigh. Setting up the radio, you put on your playlist called 'chill drive' which you created purposely for reasons when you're driving. You don't forget to turn the heating on, hoping it'll do its job before you can actually make it home, otherwise your ass will really freeze.

You drive out of the parking lot, listening to music while humming the soft and melodic tune as you drive onto the road. You're being careful, driving slower than usual which probably annoys the rest of drivers but you could care less. Other drivers probably don't care about their safety or the safety of others as they speed up through the roads while it keeps snowing, the snow practically pouring from the sky. You keep the speed steady, more comfortable once you make it out of the streets and drive through a long driveway with three lanes.

You're focused, your eyes on the road while you listen to a soft and melodic voice humming in the background. And you've no idea how it happens because one minute you're sure nothing could go wrong but then the car, that's been driving fast and is in front of you, suddenly stops at the red light. Your legs automatically press the brakes but your car weirdly shifts on the snowy road and you make a mistake by taking your leg off the brakes. The issue is that you panic, aware of the state your car has been lately and you feel the steering wheel turning under your fingers. You barely have any control of it, trying to hold it tightly while you press the breaks fast again. In a split second, your car is moving to the side and it spins, the side of your head harshly meeting the window.

And the other second you feel the impact of your head and glass colliding.

[fraugwinska]

Dude, i had an idea out of nowhere, and in my head it's so funny for no reason ☠️☠️ So, you know that theres like, that canon drawing that Alastor made for Angel's birthday?

((https://twitter.com/HazbinHotel/status/1642135435085217793?t=U6Kzncfye-QAjtJYy8R23A&s=19) This one)

So like, imagine that is Alastor's S/o birthday, and he decided to make her a drawing like that ☠️ idk it's weirdly funny in my head

So - a few things need to be said.

1. I know that Alastor canonically likes to doodle, and ever since episode 1 we really know just how awfully funny these doodles are.

2. what I didn't know was what the hell you were talking about, so I looked it up and... my god. The snorts I snaughted, the wheezes I whoze, the cackles I cuckled. He may be a 'gentleman', he may try to behave cordial and appear classy, but Doodle-Artist-Alastor is a fucking menace, no filter and so snappy, holy shit.

3. Now, for my highly professional opinion (*cough cough*) of what would happen if you, Alastor's s/o, would get a picture like this as a birthday gift. In front of everyone.

❤️ You agreed on celebrating your birthday, as redundant as you thought it was, only under the condition that no one would buy you a gift. If they wanted to hand you a present, you wanted it to be a small, handmade thing, valuing their time and thought behind it much more than the actual thing.

❤️ Everyone would hold true to this request, and the gifts you get match the giver perfectly.

❤️ Charlie and Vaggie crafted together, handing you a bejeweled jewelry box covered in glitter glue and snippets of photos they had taken of you and the gang over the time you were guest in the hotel.

❤️ Niffty, being both skilled in sewing and the chaos gremlin she is, presents you with a abysmal looking pile of different, sewn-together fabrics. You turn and twist it in your hands, thanking her without knowing what it is, until you find a golden snap lock hidden in the masses of layers. It's a very inconvenient coin purse.

❤️ Opening Angels gift has everyone holding their breath - preparing for something phallic, kinky or lewd. instead, you squeal as you pack a crochet version of Fat Nuggets, including his stubby little horns. Angels smug expression at the sheer surprise at his very unusual (and unexpected) talent of the gang quickly turns to a sweet smile as you crush him with your hug, telling him how much you love it.

❤️ Husk's gift for you is nothing corporeal. Instead, he announces he'd teach you one of his many magic tricks he often did for your sheer delight at your many evenings at the bar. He blushes a bit when you thank him with a kiss on his cheek.

❤️ Alastor would wait to be the last one to present his gift - it's known the best is always saved for last. He hands you a large envelope. Curiously you open it, careful not to tear it, and pull out a thick sheet of paper

❤️ Five heads hang over your shoulder, five pairs of eyes widen at the sight: The paper is full of scribbled doodles, a crude, macabre looking version of yourself in the middle, around it splatters of what looks like blood, grinning faces, and scribbled words: cutie pie - talks in her sleep - MINE MINE MINE - I love Alastor (in a speech bubble over your head)

❤️ Reactions would be mixed, Charlie would find it weirdly adorable, Niffty would point out anything she likes with bashful giggles, Vaggie would be as disturbed as Husk, while Angel would make fun of it, laughing while mocking the quality of the drawing.

❤️ you however, would be torn between genuine laughter and earnest emotionality you've never received something handmade from Alastor. He'd often shower you in little tokens of care, a bouquet of flowers, a new necklace, a dress or a scarf he's seen at Rosie's. You found it not only endearing, the thought of him, dressed in his pompous attire sitting at his bureau, drawing this made your heart ache with affection.

❤️ Quietly staring at the picture, Alastor would interpret your silence as veiled ridicule, and vanish into shadows, retreating. He had failed, his gift shown to be juvenile and lacking. Sulking, he would avoid you for the rest of the evening, only returning to your shared room when night already fell and everyone was fast asleep

❤️ He would find you in deep slumber, cheeks a bit puffy and shimmering from trails of dried tears. He'd tilt his head in curiosity, wondering what would've possibly made you cry, then he sees it - his painting, clutched in your hands and pressed to your heart.

❤️ He'd hurry to change for the night, scolding himself for drawing hast conclusions - he should know you better. When he gently pulls the paper from you to set it aside, youd awake, reaching out to him, starting to apologize for not giving him an appropriate reaction.

❤️ alastor would shush you, slipping into bed with you, and give you your other, much more intimate present.

[talekinesis]

Thunder Storms

So I've decided to make this an AU where Dale doesn't completely suck. Like he's still the mostly canon Dale, where he kinda sucks, Dev looks for affection and approval, and he can be kinda aloof, but in this AU, he actually recognizes this and does make an effort to be a dad to his kid

I'm stuck between calling it the "Okay Parent AU" or the "Dale's Not Terrible AU (DNT)"

He does care about Dev he just sucks at showing it basically. I will expand on this more in later posts, this us already super long

Summary: It's storming and Dev is scared

Dev laid there, curled up under the covers, as still as possible as if he could hide from the flashes of light outside. As a loud, rolling boom sounded he froze and began to shake slightly.

His blue eyes flicked over to his "dog," laying at the foot of his bed. He wanted more than anything to wake Peri up, but he knew he was still recovering from Magical Back-up and needed the rest. So carefully, he pushed the blankets back and slipped out of bed, shivering as his bare feet hit the cold floor.

He crept out of his room and down the hall, freezing with a frightened whimper each time lightning flashed.

For as long as he could remember, he's always been afraid of storms. When he was much younger, maybe five, he used to run to his dad and stay with him until the storm cleared. At five, your dad is indestructible, and the safest place in the world.

Now at eleven, he found himself tiptoeing toward his father's room again. He hadn't done this in a couple years, having tried to convince himself he'd grow out of it, but the thunder was shaking within the walls, and the kid was scared.

He wasn't entirely sure how his father would react to him coming into his room this late, and for a storm no less, so he tried to think ahead. Maybe he'd sleep on the floor, or just sit in the doorway until the storm cleared up. But the problem with that, was he didn't know when it would clear up. It could take the rest of the night for all he knew.

In the past couple of years, Dale had told him it was silly to fear storms because they were outside, and they couldn't get inside. That it was just rain and some noise. That he'd grow out of it. He knew his father probably hadn't meant to dismiss his fears, but that's definitely how it felt.

He pushed the door open and let his eyes adjust. His dad was asleep and facing the doorway, so he had to be careful. Dev crept further inside and toward the bed, his heart racing.

Logically he knew that, worst case scenario, his dad would wake up and just send him back to bed. But the idea of waking him up over something this silly scared him. He hated to upset, inconvenience, or irritate his dad. Dale had a short temper and wasn't always tactful when trying to get Dev to listen to him.

Thunder and lightning both struck, startling the child into just dropping to the floor with a soft thud, accidentally shaking the bed a little as he pressed himself against the side of it.

His heart was racing and tears started to sting his eyes.

It's just rain and some noise. It's silly to be this scared of some weather, and one day he'd grow out of it. It's just a silly, irrational fear.

He was pulled from his thoughts as a large hand clumsily felt around the side of the bed until it landed in his red curls. He heard a groan and a body sitting up before he was lifted off the floor and placed in bed next to his father, who promptly laid back down, exhausted. Blankets were pulled up over them both, and Dale's breathing soon evened back out, signaling that he had gone right back to sleep.

Dev laid there for a moment just processing what had happened before he turned onto his side and curled up, his eyes heavy. Now that the panic was gone, his body was screaming at him just how tired he was. He scooted just a bit closer to his dad and started to fall asleep.

Not a single word was spoken between them but the message was loud and clear.

___

Bonus:

Thunder boomed and rattled each window in the apartment. Hazel sat up and yawned, getting out of bed. She grabbed her blanket, wrapped it around herself, and slipped into the hall, heading for her parents room.

She opened the door, and just let herself flop to the floor, right there in the door, her legs still in the hallway.

Having heard the thud, and knowing the routine, her mother just barely woke up and cracked her eyes open.

"You gonna stay in the doorway, Haze?"

"Mhm.."

"Okay baby, good night."

"G'night.."

[lovings4turn]

୧ ‧₊˚ ☕️ ⋅ ☆ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭…

— in desperate need of caffeine, logan stumbles into the first cafe he comes across. little does he know, this will be the start of something great.

+ the first part of my whole latte love series , aka my child , so i hope you all enjoy <3 this is set in the uk , but reader isn't specified to be any particular nationality !

+ dividers from benkeibear !!

there were many sacrifices logan sargeant was willing to make in his life.

flying halfway across the world aged only eleven to pursue his dream of racing, for one. on a smaller scale, always allowing his brother dalton to ride shotgun on family trips, despite the fact that the backseat caused his legs to cramp up after a few hours.

but, no matter how late he was running, logan had promised himself he would never, ever deprive his body of a hot, caffeinated beverage before a meeting. 

on this particular morning, though, logan was running especially late. normally, the jarring sound of the iphone alarm would snap him from his deep sleep within seconds, the noise sparking an instant feeling of dread within him even when it wasn't coming from his phone. 

he’d learned that alex had a habit of setting alarms for various things throughout the day, before promptly forgetting what he’d set it for, leaving logan to go through the five stages of grief at least four times a weekend. 

but it seemed today the universe had been a little bored, and so decided to find entertainment in burdening a poor, unsuspecting american race car driver with one minor inconvenience after another. 

firstly, his alarm hadn't woken him up. correction: it had woken him up, just thirty minutes after it was supposed to.

secondly, his pride in managing to get dressed with an impressive five minutes to spare was quickly dissipated when he couldn't find his keys or wallet. the hunt had set him back another ten minutes (because why on earth would he think to check the cutlery drawer until he had run out of other possible options?).

and, for good measure, he'd tripped over his own welcome mat in his mad dash out of his apartment. so, yeah, it had been a morning, to put it lightly.

logan cursed to himself as he all but jogged down the busy street, eyes desperately scanning every building he passed in search of a cafe. he was too frantic to read any shop signs, but when he witnessed two girls walking out of a doorway clutching two paper cups, he knew he'd struck gold.

fucking finally.

logan offered the pair a tight lipped smile as he slipped past them and into the cafe, letting a sigh of relief escape his lips as the familiar smell of strong, freshly brewed coffee hit him. 

this was more than worth being late for, he decided. he'd pick up a few extra coffees, as an apology, a courtesy of some kind. who could be mad with a cup of coffee in their hand? though logan figured he was allowed to be a little lax in his timings anyways, since he was no longer in his rookie year at williams. the team would forgive him quick enough.

trainer-clad feet led him towards the back of the fairly short queue leading up to the counter, and logan took the opportunity to slip his phone out from his coat pocket and shoot a quick text to alex. he hoped his teammate wouldn’t mind bearing the responsibility of updating the rest of the team on his whereabouts. 

‘sorry, overslept. omw now though, bringing coffee as an apology and effort to keep my head’.

three laughing emojis quickly flared up onto logan’s lockscreen, and he took that as a positive sign. 

it was only when logan placed his phone back into his pocket that he realised just how close he was to the front of the line, and immediately began rehearsing his order. sure, he ordered the same thing practically every single time he got coffee, but with the day he was having, he’d probably find a way to absolutely butcher the simple order.

all he needed was his oat milk latte, a black coffee for james, and some sort of sugary, overly sweet concoction for alex. he doubted this place sold the pumpkin spiced lattes that he loved to tease alex about ordering, so he’d just have to find the next best thing.

only, when he finally stepped up to the counter and opened his mouth to order, his mind went blank.

standing only a few feet in front of him was the most gorgeous person logan had ever seen, and considering he’d travelled the world and met countless different women and men over the years, that was an impressive achievement. 

you, luckily, hadn’t noticed the internal reboot logan was experiencing, and focused instead on offering him a warm smile and greeting.

“morning! what can i get for you today?” you asked, finger poised and ready to input his order into the till in front of you.

logan barely managed to stop himself from physically shaking his head in an attempt to clear it, before pasting a crooked grin of his own onto his lips.

“good morning,” he returned, voice a little quiet before he cleared his throat and spoke up again. “can i just get a large black americano, large oat milk latte, and uh,” logan paused, eyes quickly scanning the board in front of him as he weighed up all of the different syrups available. 

vanilla, caramel, hazelnut, and oh, thank god, cinnamon. that was close enough to pumpkin spice, right?

“and a large cinnamon latte, please. oh, to take out.” he finished, finally returning his eyes to you as you skillfully rang through his order.

“ah, great choice,” you commented, your smile still never having left your lips. 

from the moment he’d opened his mouth, you’d quickly registered the accent, though opted not to comment on it despite how pleasing it was to your ears. of course there were no shortage of americans stepping into the cafe everyday, but there was something about his in particular that caused your ears to perk up a little more. maybe it was down to the person it was attached to, instead. 

“and is that everything for you today?” you continued, snapping back into following what you’d aptly dubbed your ‘service speech’, a routine that ensured you didn't stumble over your words to every customer you served.

“that’s all, yeah.” logan responded with another small smile. 

“perfect. that’ll be nine eighty there.”

"great, thank you."

logan quickly pulled out his phone to pay, though as his eyes caught the small jar sat on the counter, ‘tips’ scrawled onto a label in nice handwriting, he wished he was paying by cash. a flash of hope ran through him as he dug his hand into his jean pocket, and he had never been more relieved to feel some spare change brush against his fingertips. 

barely even bothering to count how much was there – it looked to be about three pounds, but he could have been wrong - logan dropped it into the jar, offering you a sheepish smile. he felt a little foolish, paying by card and fumbling around for some cash, but the look on your face was more than worth it. 

“thank you,” you repeated with a soft laugh. “should be ready for you in two minutes.”

logan couldn’t bring himself to speak again, so simply nodded and moved to walk to the point he would collect his drinks from. before that, though, he would grant himself one, small privilege. 

his eyes quickly found your name badge, and he scanned it as subtly as he could before he walked away, the name replaying over and over in his mind like a broken record. but, no. broken records were annoying, an inconvenience, something to fix or throw out. your name was anything but. 

not even five minutes after he’d placed his order were his drinks placed onto the counter, each labelled appropriately to save for any confusion. a cupholder had also been provided, which logan was eternally grateful for. he didn’t think the three drinks would survive the short journey otherwise. as a treat to himself, he took a small sip from his latte and almost swore. logan didn’t believe in magic, but he was sure that this coffee was somehow laced with it. never had a simple oat latte tasted so good to him.

and, he thought, a little embarrassingly, never had someone looked so good making one, either. 

“see you later!” you called from behind the till, lifting your hand in a gesture that could be perceived as a wave, but also an attempt to smooth your hair a little. 

logan nodded and gave you a smile. you would definitely see him later. he had just found his new favourite coffee shop, and he wasn’t going to give it up any time soon.

☕️ . . . there it is , the first instalment !! i loved writing this so much - and actually did so with a cinnamon iced latte of my own , as alex and i are actually one and the same ! hope you all enjoyed , and thank you for reading <3

[seosracha]

CUPID'S ARROW! lee heeseung x f!reader

SYNOPSIS-> you and heeseung, the schools hot topic and archer, have always despised one another. ruining each other's presentations, tripping each other in the hallways- you name it. so when the boy stops tormenting you due to his new girlfriend, you realize maybe you wanted him more than you thought you did.

PAIRING-> lee heeseung x fem!reader

GENRE-> enemies to lovers, highschool au, fluff, a little bit of angst maybe?!:!:??' oneshot

WORDCOUNT-> 9k ! (hello ?)

AUTHORS NOTE-> in honor of my favorite libra i decided to comeback🤗 if this flops im leaving again Okiiiii Purr👌 this took me 5 years By The Way. I dont even remember if i had a perm taglist Hel! Update i found itReblogs are greatly appreciated let your favourite enha tumblr senior pop off

PERM TAGLIST-> @bubblytaetae @qghosty @viagumi @artstaeh @bigtoewinwin @strwberrydinosaur @enhacolor @rendezrei @shinsou-rii @notrosemary

The school's atmosphere was always bustling, you and your small friend group never felt like outsiders in these rusty walls. Graduation was right around the corner and as much as it should have been a good thing, you felt as if a huge part of your life will be taken away from you. Instead you'll receive a piece of paper for the countless sleepless nights and mental breakdowns. You wondered where all the time between freshman year and the last months of senior year had gone. 

Niki. He was with you since birth, or at least you liked to believe that. It was the perfect cliche, next door neighbor and family best friend born on the same day. You always called him a walking red flag for the numerous times he'd do something against the norms. It was small things like pouring his milk first or more concerning instincts where he’d tie his shoes before actually getting into them. He’d defend himself with the barrier of time saving, but you doubted it was even true. But aside the weird things he’d do, the true him was a sunny and caring person. He liked the feeling that making people happy gave him. He put the people closest to him before himself. In Conclusion, he had a heart of gold but a brain full of air. 

Jungwon. It has always been hard for you to give a coherent depiction of his personality. Every first of the month he became a new person. In September he made ‘deez nuts’ jokes but as soon as october came they were old and cringe. His confusing being made Jungwon an interesting and alluring person. Although he changed his identity every month or so, his heart and kind nature never changed. He was your personal 911, under the phone for every small inconvenience or big downfall. You loved every part of him and would never trade the clumsy boy for anyone else. 

Yunjin. She was outgoing and so talkative it was almost impossible not to fall asleep during one of her storytimes. In freshman year you told her to befriend the school's most envied girl, Miyoung. The moment you almost lost her to the shit person Miyoung was, you realized how much your friendship really meant to you. Yunjin was stubborn so it took you a lot of courage to confront her about the problem. She also pulled the swim team's captain, Jake . Most people envied her for the bond she shared with him, some wondered how these two people even got together in the first place. It was true. Yunjin was nothing like Jake, but maybe her true self was the reason she fit so well into the mold he gave her. 

 You all assumed the entirety of your small town was or is in this school. The people were welcoming and talked until their tongues went dry. You all internally agreed on making the most out of the time spent in school before going on with the miserable life this town was offering. 

The only exception was Lee Heeseung. 

He tried to make your life miserable even before graduating. One dirty look could make you shut off for the entirety of the next period on your time table. And if that wasn’t enough he’d try to ruin everything good you had left of that day. Sometimes he’d leave you alone, just to make you believe it was all over. Those days always felt like the rain before the storm. He was nothing but a full of himself asshole who rode off of academic success and school popularity. Girls admired him for his archery achievements and tall, sporty figure. 

It was hard to tell exactly where it had all started, the competitiveness and hatred he shared towards you. How did sitting together at lunch, or attending his competitions turn into something so disastrous and sad. 

Perhaps it was the track you both took up, and had to compete against each other in. Or maybe your final results that topped his. On the other hand it could've been the brief relationship between you and his best friend, Park Sunghoon. But you’d rather believe it's just pure jealousy. You were always better than him in everything except that pointless arrow shooting he cherished so much. No one performed as well as him in archery so maybe that was the reason he liked to rub it in your face every chance he got. 

You got to know him from both sides, and sometimes you’d deny the fact you missed him before he got brainwashed by the meaningless highschool fame. 

“It’s eight, right?” Heeseung asked, pen pointing towards the answer in the middle of all his scribbles. 

His glasses were constantly sliding off his nose, as he used all the brain power left after the tiring school day to solve his algebra homework. The numbers started to look all the same, and he wondered if x was a number or the problem he had to solve. 

“I got 4” you said and he sighed. 

His head hung low as he scribbled over the answer once again. Heeseung’s eyes traced over the equation, looking for the moment he made a mistake. He looked disappointed, and you felt bad for being the smarter one at that moment. It’s not like you corrected him to boost your own ego. 

“How do you do it? Why do you always get the right answer?”he asked quietly, embarrassed with himself. 

You had wondered yourself. Why did you always have the right answer to everything and algebra equations? It came to you naturally, and you never thought of it as something others didn’t possess.  

“Show me your paper, Heeseung, '' you asked politely. His wrought hand slid the paper towards you, avoiding any eye contact. “2608 divided by 652 isn’t 8”you pointed to the set of numbers. 

He said nothing, just wrote down his final answer on the spot under the question on his work sheet. 

A beat of silence came in the library, and you just noticed how quiet it has gotten. Usually the small whispers of other students caught your ear, but now it felt as if you two were the only ones in this modest room. Your eyes trace the study desks and contrary to your belief, all of them were packed with groups of students studying. Some were deeply focused on their literature assignments or chemistry homework, others rather spoil the learning process for the rest. 

“I think I’ll just give up. This is pointless” Heeseung murmured, packing his things back into the emptiness of his backpack. 

“If you give up now, later it’ll be even harder for you. We’re only in freshman year” you said, grabbing onto his hand. 

It was cold, and you felt the feeling of failure radiate off of him.

“Heeseung, I believe in you, I promise. Let’s just finish this and I’ll reward you with some dinner after this. How does that sound?”you sounded like a mom, but he didn’t seem to care. 

A smile briefly decorated his face, as he brought the black backpack back up to his chest to pull out the worksheet once again. He grabbed a pen from your pencil case without asking, and continued to focus on the next question. 

“I think that sounds nice,” he answered in a moment of comforting silence. 

The thought of that day brought you back to the memory of the Heeseung you learned to like. 

///

“Oh c'mon I have no money!” Jungwon said cuddling up to Niki. 

Niki’s lunch plate was full of delicious food and the most random items the school's cafeteria offered. He looked at Jungwon and just slapped his hand away, pushing a handful of chips into his mouth. To show off probably. Jungwon sighed and moved onto his next target. 

“What about you Y/nnie? I’m so hungry, can you hear my stomach rumbling?” he questioned giving you puppy eyes. You just scoffed and slid your extra sandwich towards him. 

He squealed in excitement, and took the smallest bite, savoring the treasure in his hands. Niki  just shook his head, and kept on eating what his plate gave him. 

“I thought we agreed on sabotaging Jungwon every lunch?”he commented, and Jungwon glared at him confused. 

“What do you mean by that?”he asked, concerned for himself, and his empty wallet that accompanied him to every lunch period. 

“Where is Yunjin?” Niki asked, dogging the older boy's question. 

Jungwon just sighed and finished whatever he had left of the sandwich in his hands. 

“With Jake, I’m not sure,” you replied.

“They're probably making out under the bleachers again. I mean it’s summer time” Jungwon  said, wiping his fingers on the soft material of his pants. 

Every summer time, Jake and Yunjin would be caught under the bleachers of the football field. They’d usually get detention, and continue it there. All of you saw it as their little tradition, as disgusting as it was. The bleachers reeked of the most disgusting smell, probably not being thoroughly washed since they were built. 

Jake seemed like the typical player type, full of himself, and way too proud of his athletic achievements, but he was the complete opposite. He liked to hide away in the depths of the school, never interrupted class with the stupid jokes boys his kind made, and loved small gestures people directed towards him. Jake liked Yunjins company because she brought out the best in him. She brought him to heights he's never seen, and that is not in a sexual context only. People didn’t envy her for being with Jake, but rather for being the missing piece in his puzzle. 

“We should go to the football game next week!” Jungwon asserted excitedly at the thought of Yunjins and Jake's tradition.  

“Isn't that something straight people like doing?” Niki snorted. 

He didn’t see anything special in seeing the boys of this highschool compete against some other highschool nearby. He had a point though, our school is going to lose either way.  

“I thought you and Sunoo were friends?” you said,  remembering Kim Sunoo was a famous quarterback. He was tall, really attractive and actually looked decent on the field with all that gear. 

Even you found yourself crushing on him in the beginning of sophomore year. He had a charming aura that you wanted to get to know better. It obviously didn’t work after he indirectly rejected you. Looking back at it now, you aren't sure what went through your mind.

“Well my friendship with him doesn’t mean I care enough to watch him throw a ball around” Niki shrugged. 

It was hot and dry, the sun peeked through the large windows. It hit your back, warming you in a not so comfortable way. 

“I could really get a cold water right now” you sighed and looked over to Niki who despite having an overflowing plate, didn’t possess any drink at all. 

You regretted voicing your inner thoughts as the chair behind you jerked. It was like you could predict the future when Heeseung’s tall figure covered the boiling sun that spread through your back.  

“You want something to drink, Y/nnie?” Heeseung said and you could feel his eyes burning a hole on the back of your head. 

His arms extended to grab the Sprite off his table. Sunghoons hand stopped him. 

“Leave her alone dude” he said calmly. 

Jay and Sunghoon have grown tired of Heeseung’s childish antics. They knew he had absolutely no reason to keep on making you miserable. They’ve called him out on it countless times, but he doesn’t seem to care at all. 

“And what if I don’t? You’re not her boyfriend anymore”he whispered and groped the drink in his hand. 

He turned back to you smiling, your body was already facing his, a look on your face he knew well. It was you signalizing you knew what was coming. It’s not like he hasn’t pulled this ‘prank’ at least forty times this year. 

“Back to you. What about a Sprite, hm?”he said with a sly smile. 

“Can you just leave me alone, seriously?” you said, unfazed by his dominant act “You already spilled coffee on me last week, Heeseung”you added and he chuckled. 

“Yeah I did, and it was fucking awesome” he said twirling the can in his hand. 

You felt the fizzling liquid quickly move on from your freshly washed hair to your forehead and along the length of your shoulders. You felt sticky, and disgusting. Heeseung laughed, probably being the only one who found the incident funny. 

The chair jerked once again, and Sunghoon stood up pushing Heeseung away from you. He took the tissues from the pocket in his jacket and handed them to you. 

“You don’t have to help me, you know?” you said avoiding eye contact. Sunghoon shrugged. 

“This is the least I can do to make up for having an annoying and childish friend”he mutters, but the admission alone was enough to calm your heart. 

Your warm hand trembles slightly as you grab the tissues from him. You wiped whatever you could off your face, and put the wet hair into a messy ponytail. Words leap at the tip of your tongue as you hold back everything in you to keep yourself from wrestling Heeseung to the floor. 

“I think we need to talk, Heeseung” you say and he calms his laughter down. 

“For what? No need to waste anymore time on you today” he laughs and gives you that dumb face you hate. 

You exhale yet another breath of annoyance “I don’t think you have anything better to do, if this is the peak of your day” 

“I do, right Sunghoon?” he asks, hoping to get the answer he wanted but Sunghoon stays quiet, observing the scene before him. “Why do you still act the way you did when you two dated? Seriously, it’s so annoying” he huffed. 

“Cause you’re being an asshole, Heeseung” Jay interjected, still seated by the trios usual table. 

“And you’re being stuck up. What's wrong in having a little fun?” he sighed. 

“You’re the only one having fun, Heeseung” you said, and he stared into your eyes. 

He wasn’t fazed by your words or anyones in fact. He wanted the high ground in life so going under the influence of peoples opinion wasn’t even an option for him. 

“I have to put myself first” he giggled, and you rolled your eyes at his stupid comment. 

He was standing inches away from you, and you could swear the heat was radiating off of him. He smelled of Japanese cherry blossoms. You found that strange, expecting a man like him to wear the strongest cologne out there. 

The truth was, Heeseung always went for a softer look. He had the whole package from the hair to the shoes. Maybe it was one of his tactics to stand out and showcase his individuality as best as he could. 

“Can you just let this go? The whole act you have going on. It’s become old”you say, your voice monotone. He looks around the cafeteria. 

“I don’t see anyone better to make fun of” he states, and grabs your hand “Consider that as a compliment” he adds, and smiles brightly. 

No matter how much time has passed from the day you met to this moment, his sweet and charming smile never changed. It was made to mesmerize others, and sometimes you couldn't help but get excited. 

Your hand jerks away from his “Fuck, just cut it out, please. Just let me have some fun with my friends before graduation” you plead. 

Heeseung has never seen you actually beg him to stop. As much as an asshole he was, maybe you were right. He didn’t think about graduation until now. 

Heeseung was scared to graduate and leave his school career behind. He knew whatever accomplishments he had in archery would give him nothing in return in college. He knew the adoration of younger girls wouldn't transcript to college. And he knew his friends wouldn't waddle after him. He knew he’d be alone again. 

He stayed quiet. The only thing consoling the immediate silence in the small circle you made, was the chatter of other students placed around the cafeteria. Heeseung’s heart courses unsteady blood through the canyons of his uneasy stomach as he exhales a rocky breath. 

“Whatever” he murmurs into the sunshine, leaving you and his friends behind as he walks out of the large lunch hall. 

/// 

The school days became more steady and quiet. No clouds in the sky, and no interruptions during lunch. No dumb comments when you spoke in class, and certainly no cocky notes in your locker. 

You didn’t see Sunghoon’s and Jay’s smiley faces waving at you anymore as you sat down at your usual lunch table with Niki, Jungwon and Yunjin, since they didn’t sit behind you anymore. At first you wondered why, but you just assumed it was a blessing from the god above. Not that you hated Sunghoon or Jay, you could never, it was more about the boy you despised. 

Sunghoon and you used to date, and you knew he couldn’t get enough of the comments Heeseung made about it on a daily basis. He started using it as an insult, and scolding him everytime he tried to help you after one of Heeseung’s foolish pranks. The reality of your relationship was pretty sad. Cause not only is Heeseung using it as a taunt towards your now ex boyfriend, but he was the authentic reason for your breakup. He felt as if you stole his best-friend from him, so he made your lover choose between you or him.  The choice is probably obvious by now. I mean he had no certainty this love would last. 

“It’s been pretty quiet without Heeseung coming around, hm?” Yunjin whispered, doodling hearts around her English worksheet. A smile perks up on her lips as she writes Jake's name in one of them. 

“Well, finally”you reply shortly, focusing on the question before you. You twirl the pen between your fingers, as Yunjin chuckles softly. 

“Weren’t you used to it by now? I mean isn’t it weird to not have him spill drinks on you anymore?” she nagged you once again, knocking you out of your trance.

“Who wouldn't be used to it? But I definitely do not miss having wet hair and clothes for the rest of the day”you smile, and write down one of the answers. 

Of course you felt like something was missing, but you’d never actually admit it. You knew something was missing, but coming to the full realization of what that was, belittled you. 

“Didn’t you ever like Heeseung? Like at some point you had to like him. Especially when you two were practically besties!”she exclaimed, and you had to hit her, afraid Jay might hear. 

Jay sat next to Yeonjun, head in hands. You snook secretive glances at the boy, and he seemed just as confused as you were. He kept asking his deskmate for answers but from what it looked like, he didn't have them either.  

“I don’t know, Yunjin. Maybe, but it surely wasn’t anything big. You know, Heeseung used to be pretty fucking cool back then”you smiled, your mind rushing back to the memory of freshman Heeseung. 

“Niki was so jealous of him, I’ll never forget that” Yunjin giggled, and grabbed your pink highlighter to color in her heart dedicated to Jake. 

She smiled as the heart filled with a bright pink color, fading her boyfriend's name a bit, but she made sure to correct it right after. 

“Don’t you ever hang out with Heeseung? Especially since you spend so much time with Jake?” you asked curiously. 

She chuckled and shook her head. 

“We never hang out with a third person. We’d probably make them really uncomfortable,“ she answers, and you laugh along with her. 

“Back to you, Jake told me Heeseung doesn’t even talk about you anymore. Can you believe that?” she huffed, as if it should have offended you.

You shrugged. The less embarrassing things Jake, Sunghoon or Jay knew about you, the better. But you wondered why he’d talk about you in the first place. 

“He’s also been really secretive lately. They were supposed to go play some games at Jay’s, but he bailed out. Jake said he never does that '' she exclaimed dramatically. 

“I really don’t care, Yunjin. Maybe he finally realized what a shit person he truly is” you explain, and she just laughs. 

“I hope so too” she whispered a short response “Are you still coming to the game? I finally convinced Niki to come ‘see his friend throw a ball around’ ”she made air quotes, and you chuckled. 

“Yeah, me and Jungwon wanted to go from the start anyways” you say, and she squeals excitedly. 

/// 

“Can we sit here?” Sunghoon’s voice caught your attention, as he stood alongside Jay and Jake. 

Yunjins face lit up at the boy standing in front of her “Yes!” she squealed, and clung onto Jake’s side “You never sit with me at lunch, baby” she murmured into his chest, and he giggled. 

“She’s right, you guys never sit here. What happened to mood killer Heeseung?” Jungwon asked, and they shrugged, just as curious as him. 

You looked around the cafeteria, but in fact a six foot, blue haired man was nowhere to be seen. You always wondered why he chose a hair color that could potentially make him look like an idiot amongst the towns people, but you couldn't lie and say it didn't fit him. 

“He’s not here, and he’s not answering our calls, I think he’s skipping,” Sunghoon said tiredly. 

“I heard he’s been ditching you guys quite often lately” Niki asserted sarcastically , picking at his lunch uninterested. 

His parents cut off his money after he failed his math exam, so he no longer had the option to buy out the whole buffet. He was stuck with the disgusting, soggy food the school offered for free.

“Yeah, he has. I don’t want to offend anyone, but after the lunch incident it’s like something has changed in him,”Jay said, being a witness of the scene. 

“Why would I be offended by all people, the more freedom, the better” you said, and Jay silently agreed with you. 

Getting rid of the fear's tight grip, really washed a lot of other things off of you. It made you so much more comfortable and especially much cleaner, literally and practically. But his sudden ignorance and complete change in demeanor wasn’t all pluses, but maybe it was too early for you to realize that. 

“Seriously I should've studied for that exam” Niki muttered, pushing his plate of soggy pasta away. He reached for his backpack but found nothing edible inside. 

“What’s wrong with him? That pasta used to be the highlight of my day in freshman year” Jay hummed. 

“There is something seriously wrong with you, man”Niki responded “That pasta tastes like battery acid, and maybe like the crumbs on my bed on a good day” 

“You eat the crumbs you find in your bed?” Sunghoon asks, disgusted. 

Another red flag Niki carried around with him. 

“Yeah, you don’t? I thought everyone eats the crumbs in their bed” he said, and nobody agreed. 

“First of all, I wash my bedsheets and don’t eat in my bed” Sunghoon said, and Niki scoffed. 

“You’re seriously mentally ill, all of you actually. Bedsheets are supposed to be changed every two months or maybe every month if I feel generous”he educates them. 

“Me and Y/n once slept over at your house, and I woke up with crumbs in my ass” Jungwon said, and Niki rolled his eyes. 

“Could have slept on the floor then”Niki asserted, and sneaked one of Yunjins fries into his mouth. She was way too occupied with Jake to even notice or have any awareness of the people around her “Okay I think we should stop talking about my crumbs now, please”

“Trust me, no one wants to know about your disgusting ass habits,” Jungwon sniggered. 

Somehow you found yourself looking around the hall for that one familiar face, yet as good as your vision was, you couldn’t spot him anywhere. Why did you want to see him so bad?

“What about you, Y/n?” Jay asked, and you had no idea what the initial conversation was even about. 

Jay had changed the subject, moving on from Niki a long time ago, but your mind was focused on something, or rather someone else. 

“What?” 

“I asked what you plan on doing after graduation” he smiled, and you pushed your focus back onto the group around you. 

“I don’t know yet. I do want to go to college, a lot actually, but what for, I’m still trying to figure that out” you said quickly. Jay nodded understandingly. 

“What about a boyfriend?” he smirked and nugged Sunghoon. He just rolled his eyes and moved away from the boy. 

“I don't think I need one at the moment”you answered with a smile.

It went quiet as Jungwon's face changed drastically. He saw something others couldn't make out just yet. 

“Speaking of boyfriends and girlfriends,, is that fucking Miyoung?”Jungwon exclaimed, and the mention of her name made Yunjin jump away from Jake’s arms. 

“What are you talking about?”she said, her body trembling. Her heart began racing as Jungwon pointed to the entry door. 

You didn’t want to look, suspecting the outcome. 

“So that's where he went,”Sunghoon laughed, and before he could call them over, Niki stopped him. Sunghoon quickly realized, and gave up on that idea. 

“No way he actually started dating Miyoung, isn’t she like a total bitch” Jay said, directing his words towards Yunjin. 

“She is the most awful person I’ve ever met,” Yunjin said, her gaze still glued to the couple. 

“Well that explains why Heeseung’s dating her now,” Jungwon chuckled. 

There was the confirmation you didn’t necessarily want. 

Heeseung and Miyoung are dating now. 

“So that’s why he doesn’t bother you anymore! He doesn't want to make his girlfriend jealous” Jay exclaimed, you just laughed quietly, and tried to completely cut out your friend's words with the company of your own phone. 

“This has got to be a serious one if he gave up on teasing Y/n” Sunghoon said. 

As much as it made you happy he left you alone, the reason behind it did not fire up that same emotion in you. But you could not stop life from moving onwards, and if this is what makes him satisfied then so be it, right? 

“Why did you stop being friends with her anyways, Yunjin?”

…

“I can’t, me and Miyoung are going to the movies” Yunjin said excitedly, but you couldn't quite return her feeling. 

Once again, you were being ditched for Miyoung, and it felt pretty fucking shit. It felt as if Yunjin was drifting away from you for some new girl she barely knew. But you couldn’t stop her, she was your best friend and her happiness was your priority. 

So when Yunjin and Miyoung were enjoying the movies you and she loved, Heeseung was by your side. He listened, and helped you cope with the pain of being replaced. You remember him holding your hand so tightly, telling you how much you mean to many people, and to never doubt Yunjins platonic love for you. It was a new thing for you and him. You were usually at each other's side when exams came, and when he competed for the gold medal, but never when a crisis striked. 

You wondered why he did it. Did he just feel bad for you and didn’t want to make you more miserable when you came to him?  

Miyoung was your complete opposite, she was more like Yunjin. That’s why they connected so fast. You envied their friendship despite the fact you were still considered Yunjins best friend. 

When Heeseung heard all about Miyoung, he couldn't hold back the shit he had to say about her. Every bad thing he recognized within her, from him, sounded fifty times worse. It was his way of helping you realize Yunjin will grasp that soon enough too. 

And he was right. Miyoung had nothing but bad intentions towards Yunjin. 

…

Maybe seeing him all over Miyoung hurt ten times more  because he was there for you when no one else was. He was there when his now girlfriend wanted to tear your friendship apart.

/// 

“You’ve been acting really off recently” Jay commented, while you two accompanied each other on the walk back home. 

Jay lived in the same apartment complex as you, but you never cared enough to notice him. Usually it was only you and Niki ignoring the rest of your neighbors. 

“I think it’s just your imagination, Jay '' you laughed, and took another bite out of Jay's candy bar. 

He made a sad and offended face when half of his chocolate bar was gone. 

“No seriously, even Jungwon noticed, and I trust him”he said. 

“You and Jungwon really hit it off, hm?”you asked, trying to bring the spotlight off of you. 

You guessed it worked when Jay's face lit up “Yeah, we did! He actually seems to like spending time with me”

“We all love spending time with you and everyone else, Jay” you smiled brightly, and he laughed. 

It was true. Ever since Heeseung completely cut them off for his girlfriend's company, your friend group adopted them. Yunjin couldn't be more happy now that she got to spend every second of her day with Jake. And you felt happy cause they gave you the little unreal pieces of Heeseung you found yourself missing. 

Seeing him with Miyoung, turned something upside down in you. It didn’t let you function properly and it felt like you've hit rock bottom. You couldn't help but wonder, why her? Although anybody else wouldn't make the growing feeling in your stomach any better. It was still a new thing to you, and you couldn't quite put into words what it was. 

“Do you miss Heeseung? Or at least the person he used to be?”you asked, and Jay wasn’t expecting you to be the one to initiate a conversation about Heeseung. 

“Well obviously. We still talk, but it isn't the same at all. I really want to go back to the day when it all went downhill, maybe I could've done something,”he answered with a fabricated confidence. 

“Don’t blame yourself for something you can't control,” you said, holding his hand. It was a habit you picked up from the one and only Heeseung himself. “For the short time I knew Heeseung, he’s just like that. You never know what's coming until it's already done”

“Short time? You and him were constantly talking in freshman, I’m really shocked you didn't catch feelings for him back then”he laughed. 

Feelings. Now you realize that maybe after all you did like Heeseung. It came to you after you found yourself reminiscing on the memories you shared. He used to mean a lot to you, and when he started changing his demeanor towards you, it wasn't easy to let go. You tried to fix it but you didn't have any tools. You just had to buy a replacement, but there weren't any others like him in stock. That’s why you started dating Sunghoon, because he was the closest you could've gotten to Heeseung.

“I don't think I catch feelings that easily,”you laughed. 

Lie. 

You lay in your bed helplessly, the sheets clinging onto your sweaty body. Your room elopes you in a constant darkness, and the wind blows softly through your open window. You can’t focus on anything, your heartbeat picking up at every sharp inhale. 

Your mind was racing from one thing to another, but someone who stayed consistently flooding your brain was Heeseung. Because you have finally come to the realization this was never about Miyoung or the childish pranks, it was about him. 

It was an untypical connection you longed to study. 

/// 

“I know what's going on so you either say it yourself, or I’ll just be blunt about it right now”  Niki said through the speaker of your phone as you kept on straining from the real purpose of the call. 

You trusted Niki, but this is something bigger than the time you told him about Sunoo. Back then the only thing you two could do about it was laugh and make up fake scenarios with you as the main character. 

“If we both know then why talk about it? It doesn't matter anyway” you murmured, fiddling with the settings of your fan. 

“Because I want to help you, and if you don’t tell me the full thing I have nothing to stand on” he explained, and you sighed. 

On one hand, you wanted to hear Nikis advice, but would that really help? Would any of this really help your already fucked up situation? 

“I don’t even know where to start, Niki” you said and he let out a sound of understandment. 

“Just tell me everything, don’t hold back. You can trust me with this” he told you after a brief moment of silence. 

You stayed quiet, attempting to process everything through. The admission alone was hard enough, but spilling out the truth to one of your bestfriends was the real challenge. 

“Niki, I’m not sure myself, if what I feel is real. I’m wondering if any of this is real” you started softly, and he kept quiet signalizing for you to continue.  “I want to have him all for myself, and I know it’s selfish, but what can I do anyways” 

“Do you seriously want this?” he asked. 

“I don’t know Niki, I don’t know anything just yet” you responded. 

“I think it’s okay to not have answers,” he assured. 

There was nothing that could help your blossoming feelings for Heeseung. Even after he embarrassed you on multiple occasions you couldn't do anything but fall deeper in love with him. Maybe it’s because you still had the feeling his freshman self was still somewhere inside of him under the pile of shit he’s been consuming lately. 

“Okay” you mutter. “Just be realistic with me” you ask of him, and he nods understandingly. 

“I would never lie to you, Y/n” he whispers “Just follow your gut, okay? I know that may be hard, but if you actually want to try, do it. There's nothing to lose here anyways” he says. 

You nod, unable to say anything. It’s weird, the feeling you're experiencing. It leaves you uneasy, the thought of your current situation. You’re unsure of anything going on. 

“I want you to be nothing but happy, if it's with him, or anyone else, but sometimes things don't go the way we want them to because we don't trust ourselves” he adds, noticing you've been awfully quiet. 

“I don’t want to embarrass myself again, Niki '' you mutter. 

What were you thinking, seriously? Heeseung was the unreachable boy, only the prettiest girls of this school could have. Miyoung was one of them, drop dead gorgeous, skinny with porcelain skin. You didn’t see those features in yourself, but maybe it was just your insecurities getting the best of you. 

“You can’t embarrass yourself if you don't even try. Even if you do, what's wrong with that? You know you have us, we’ll never make fun of you” he assured with a soft smile. 

“Is it even worth it? I mean I don't have any assurance this would last if anything. What if we just went back to hating each other, and I’m left all alone again” you ask, and he shakes his head. 

He gets closer to the camera, head in hands. “Just because of what happened with Sunghoon, doesn't mean you have to kill any hope you have of a relationship with others.  That's not how it works” he tells you softly. “Just trust yourself, and the process, okay?”

/// 

You had a goal. 

Win Heeseung back by graduation. 

You always considered  yourself to be a competitive person, not exactly in the right field, but competitiveness always lingered somewhere in your gut. And that’s exactly why you would do anything to feel his touch again. 

It didn't take you long to realize you took his teasing for granted. Your mind was begging for him to leave you alone, but your heart perhaps liked the constant attention, and the fact he’d think about you more than anyone. It was stupid, but what could you do? It was hard not to miss the not-so sweet nicknames he’d give you. It was hard not to miss his dumb pranks and sweet laughter. 

How were you going to reach your goal? You didn’t exactly know. You just decided to follow your gut, just as Niki said days before. Maybe you were reaching too far, but what's wrong in admiring the stars? 

“Sunoo said the team has been actually working hard this month. I’m starting to gain hope in our schools first win” Niki said, clicking away at the Superstar SM on his phone “Fuck, I lost” he groaned. 

“Only the best can do Kick It on hard mode” Jay shrugged, receiving a death stare from Niki, who loaded up the song again. 

“I don’t think you should get your hopes up too high, Niki. Sunoo said that last time, and guess what?They lost” Sunghoon murmured, copying Jake's chemistry notes. 

You silently agreed with Sunghoon. The only reason you all tagged along for the game was the free food your school was giving out on match day. It was probably their way of compensating for the awful game our football team was about to present to us. 

“You’re seriously so bad at this, '' Jay laughed, and pulled out his own phone when he saw  Niki lose once again. 

“Don’t be a show off, I’m just having a bad day. Look, I literally have two stars on Cherry Bomb” he shoved the phone into Jays face. 

“Stop being annoying, Niki” Jungwon commented, and the boy looked like he was about to kill him. 

“It’s not my fault, he started it!” he said, offended. 

“I just got an S level Doyoung!” Jay squealed. 

“No way, you’re such a liar, '' Niki said, sliding over to Jay's side. 

While the two boys were preoccupied with the beloved game, and Jake was busy keeping Yunjin her special company, Sunghoon and Jungwon were copying Jay's notes, you couldn't stop looking over at Heeseungs table. He seemed to find himself new friends amongst Miyoungs circle. He sat there laughing with Kwangsun and Taehyun, keeping his arm around Miyoung. 

Kwangsun and Taehyun were Jakes teammates so you knew them very well. Not only were they the worst on the swimming team, they also had the worst personality. Talking to them was like talking to a wall, they lacked any sense of humor and interest in the world around them. You wondered how Heeseung was talking to them so comfortably. Probably because they weren't responding so it didn't even matter what he said.

“How are you feeling? Everything alright?” Sunghoon asked, keeping his eyes on the notebook. He didn’t look at what he was writing down, just blindly copied Jay's work. 

“I’m okay? Why are you even asking?” you answer with a question. 

He laughs, and drops the pen. Jungwon takes the opportunity, and slides the notebook closer to himself. 

“You’ve been awfully quiet, you know?” he states softly. 

“You shouldn't worry about me, Sunghoon. I see you have a lot more to copy, seriously do it before lunch ends” you say trying to change the subject. 

Was Sunghoon suspecting something? Did he know something you didn’t? It was hard to tell, and that was making you even more stressed than you already were. 

“I’m your friend, I worry about you, Y/n. But i respect it if you don’t want to talk about it now” he smiles and picks up his blue pen “Give that book back” he groans, and slides the book back over to the middle. 

“This is unfair, I can barely see what's written there!” Jungwon fights, but the boy next to him just shrugs. 

Were your friends catching on? Were you really that obvious? 

“Life is still going on, three rainbow stars, beat that” Jay exclaimed, a cocky tone to his voice. 

Life is still going on, right. 

/// 

“I’ve been waiting for this for so long!” Niki exclaimed happily, as his eyes scanned the buffet in front of the football field's bleachers. He looked like he was ready to stuff his face any moment now. 

“Don’t get too excited, we might not be able to pack you into my car after this” Jay said, taking a sip of his drink. 

“Very funny, Jayshit. Let a man enjoy his food” Niki responded, grabbing the first pastry in sight. “Sunoo claimed some really good seats for us, by the way” he added bluntly. 

“Maybe you really are useful sometimes, Niki,” Jake said, and got a middle finger in return. 

“I remember last time we got some nosebleeds,” Jungwon said, helping Niki sneak half of the buffet into his backpack. 

“This is why I am always useful,” Niki said, smiling at Jake. 

“That makes no sense, if you were useful you’d get the good seats too last game” Jake asserted. 

“Shut up, Jake. Don’t you have a girlfriend to take care of?” Niki rolled his eyes. 

You chuckled at his child-like behavior, and grabbed Jay’s drink to take a sip yourself. 

“What's up with you and always stealing my shit, get some yourself” Jay said, and jerked the drink away from you. You laugh, and smile at him. 

You look around for any familiar faces, but it seems as if no one has arrived yet. That's what you get for being two hours early, just because Niki can't miss out on the strawberry donuts. 

“Isn’t that Miyoung, and Heeseung? I  thought he hated football” Jake chuckles. 

They're here too? It can't get worse can it? 

“Miyoung likes it. Her brother is on the team” Yunjin says, and Jake nods. 

You drop your head to the ground, and start playing with the strings of your hoodie. Maybe if you don’t say anything you’ll sulking will go unnoticed. 

“He hasn’t talked to us for a good two weeks. He really is down bad” Sunghoon comments. 

“Do you think Miyoung forbade him from talking to us?” Jay asked, hoping for Yunjin to answer, since her brief friendship with the girl might allow her to know. 

“She usually does when she doesn't like her partner's friends” Yunjin fulfilled Jay's wish. 

“Why so? Especially since I have probably never talked to her” Sunghoon said, a confused look spread on his face. 

“I wish I knew that one,” Yunjin said. 

Seeing Heeseung with her was different for you this time. It's like something turned inside of  you. Maybe it was because of the fact he loves her enough to sit through a game he hates with his whole soul and heart. You wonder if he’d do the same for you. 

The scenery was beautiful. The sound of soft chatter and the summer breeze swayed through your features. The sun hid behind the clouds, the only source of light being the large lamps placed around the field. It was the perfect highschool cliche, but your mind was constantly at war with the bound feelings. It never left you alone. Before you fell asleep, while you ate breakfast, while you showered or brushed your teeth. He always flooded your brain. 

“I think I’ll get in a quick bathroom stop before this mess starts” you smile, and get up from your seat next to Jungwon. 

“You want me to go with you?” Yunjin asks, averting her gaze from Jake to you. 

“Sorry, I don’t really feel like making you hear me pee, I’ll be back soon” you smile, and Yunjin just giggles, setting her head back on Jake’s soft shoulder. 

You can’t look at her being happy with him anymore. It makes you want to throw up. 

The gentle sound of the latest pop hits poured from the speakers mounted in every corner of the school building as you made your way to the restroom, feeling helpless. Various students hastily made their way to the field. 

Yeah, sure, you did hate him. But one look at said enemy, all those words could be shoved out the window. 

The air felt so heavy, as you sat on the sinks marble. No matter how hard you searched, there still was no answer. There was no escape and you’ve already lost any control of yourself. You were going insane each sleepless night thinking about him. 

You looked into the mirror's reflection and didn’t recognize yourself anymore. Have you changed out of your own pure will, or was it because maybe you weren’t enough for Heeseung when he left. Was it the way you looked, acted or was it any of your other flaws? There’s no answer. 

You completely lost track of time, but nobody seemed to be looking for you anyways. 

A quiet sound echoed through the bathroom. You didn't even bother to look, expecting Yunjins voice to hit your ears anytime now. 

“Do you know how much I hate you?” a so familiar voice reaches your ear. 

It still hasn’t hit you. The same person you were bawling your eyes out over, was so close to your helpless figure, yet the calmness of your heart didn’t let the feeling sink in just yet. It was probably the years of Heeseung’s torment that made you believe he was here only to return to his old antics. 

You can’t bear to look at him. It’ll just go full circle, and explode, really.  

“No” you respond, still avoiding eye contact. 

“Words can’t describe” he says, and you can feel him smile. “I go fucking insane whenever I think of you” he added breathily. 

You shiver at the harshness in his voice. You didn’t remember it being so coarse. 

“Don’t do this, Heeseung” your voice shakes. 

“Look at me,” he whispers, and harshly lifts your chin up to make you eye to eye with him. 

A long drawn-out sigh from the bottom of his chest leaves him. He slowly lowered his head, and immediately froze in position; making the closeness between you much more intimate. The air around you felt warmer as his eyes pierced through you, studying every detail of your face. 

“I’ll show you just how much I hate you” he finally speaks, 

Any thoughts you had before Heeseung stepped into the pity party you were hosting in the bathroom, flew right out as his lips smashed into your soft and delicate ones. Your heart heaves uneasily, as you give into the feeling of him against you. 

The kiss is lustfull, full of anger he had stored up ever since you went separate ways. He didn’t hold back, his tongue relentlessly prying your mouth open until you gave into his action. The lack of oxygen pulled you apart, your mouth still open from the initial shock. 

Yet his lips felt like a magnet; pulling you closer and closer, un-allowing any resistance. You couldn’t stop yourself, leaning over again, wanting to feel his soft lips once again. There really was no turning back.

“Could Sunghoon make you feel this good?” he asked breathlessly, as his lips planted softs kisses on your jawline. 

“No” you breathe out, and he smiles. 

“That’s what I thought” he smirked, caressing your warm cheek. 

Even the mere thought of you and Sunghoon made him burn inside. He liked having you all to himself. Sharing was never an option. 

It suddenly hit you. 

“Heeseung, why are you doing this?” you asked, backing away from the boy, throwing his hands off your face, feeling a sudden disconnection between the two of you. 

“You know how obsessed I am with you?” he whispered, maintaining eye contact. “You remember when you asked me to leave you alone, because you wanted to have just a little bit of fun before graduation?” 

You nodded, not knowing exactly what this was about. Hearing all the sweet, yet concerning things that came out of his mouth, made you want to forgive him right there and then without any good explanation to the years of hell he gave you.  

“It made me realize, you know, maybe I wanted you more than I thought I did” he finished and although he tried to maintain a dominant act, you could still see his sly smile peek through. 

You couldn't give into him that fast. 

“Oh so you decided to start dating Miyoung? Makes so much sense Lee Heeseung” you scoffed, trying to intimidate him at least a little bit. 

It obviously didn’t work because Heeseung seemed to be unfazed by your words. 

“Feelings get caught up in the mind” he said calmly “But loving you long makes it feel a little better” 

Whatever he was trying to say didn’t matter, because really you didn’t care. You weren’t gonna lose the opportunity you’ve been manifesting ever since he left. 

“Promise this is the last time you pull this type of shit?” you ask after a minute of silence. 

Heeseung lets out an airy laugh and smiles. He lifts up his pinky finger, and intertwines it with yours. 

“Promise” 

Heeseung really wasn’t that tough after all. 

/// 

Heeseung can’t exactly go back to the moment he started to fall in love with you. Maybe it was the day you helped him with his math homework, or maybe the time you cheered him on while he competed in the archery finals. 

But he knows exactly when he realized it. 

“You promise you won’t tell him, right?” you ask, smiling. 

The two of you sat at the back of the library for your weekly study session. You’ve been giving him hints of a recent love interest, and as an unusually curious man he wanted to know more. 

“Who's he, just tell me! And I know him, interesting” he laughs. 

“It’s Sunghoon. Yes, your best friend Park Sunghoon” you announce and he feels his heart drop. He hoped you’d take him by surprise, and let the words, ‘You Heeseung, it’s you whom I like’ leave your lips. But it was Sunghoon. 

Fucking Sunghoon.

Of course, he wouldn’t let this ruin his friendship with Sunghoon. He was sure his friend didn’t even like you back, and soon enough he could be helping you get up after the heartbreak. 

But what he didn’t expect was for you two to actually start dating. 

At first he held all his anger in, trying his best to avoid any contact with you. Soon it turned into ignorance, and he found himself completely overlooking you. He thought of it as the better way out. When it got to the point he couldn't look past anymore, he made Sunghoon choose, knowing what would be the result of it. Sunghoon chose him, but you submitted to the feeling of hatred. 

/// 

Now, after all this time, Heeseung could watch you bicker with your friends over the tiniest things with his own eyes. He could finally sit down at your usual spot in the library and receive the most prized tutoring from you once again. He could watch you accept your diploma, and run back to him with the biggest smile on your face. 

Expressing love for you was different. Years of uncountable pranks, and hateful messages were all just the sweet feeling in disguise. 

[alphabetboyluvr]

throttle │ jjk - two

one / two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight / nine / ten / eleven

warnings - just a littleeee (read: mostly) smut... fingering, titty sucking (his fave <3), unprotected sex, multiple orgasms (female), creampie, post-creampie-pussy-eating, cum swapping, a little spitting i guess, titty worship, ?? more, maybe ??, idk, you get the idea. oh, and also dangerous driving and jk being down bad within like 5 seconds flat

word count - 13.4k

minors dni // posted to wp late 2021 // series masterlist

Jungkook's cheeks are red, his nose blushed from the chill of the wind by the time you reach his place. It's just on the outskirts of town, past the jewellers' district and out towards the station, and it has you wondering why he's always getting fuel from your neck of the woods. It seems inconvenient, and if you were sober, you'd be questioning it. 

Sober, you might have even made assumptions about it.

Hell, you know you would be making assumptions about it.

But you're not sober, and he's got a hold on your hand like you're one of the priceless jewels in the windows you've just walked past.

You're gold dust; a diamond in amongst the rough of downtown Daegu.

In fact, he's holding you so tightly that it's almost as if there's a price on your head, and he wants to be the one to reap the rewards. No sharing. His, all his.

He doesn't loosen his grip on your hand as he begins to punch in the code to his apartment door. It's steel, and robust, hiding everything that Jungkook is behind it. You don't know him, not really - not like you want to - but there's something so painfully intimate about being invited into his space. Has you thinking that maybe you'll get the chance to know him. For a few hours, at least.

The lock beeps, a mechanical whir sounding as the bolt retracts, but he pauses as he puts pressure down on the handle.

"Can you, like, close your eyes?" He grimaces, glancing back around at you. His tongue is tipsy, about to make admissions he never would do sober. "I left in a rush, and there are clothes everywhere 'cause I couldn't decide what to wear and I-"

"Wait, wait, wait," you grin, eyes centred on his. "Did someone get pre-date nerves?"

Jungkook presses his eyes shut, smiling as he rolls his head back. He's never nervous. Always cool, calm, collected - but he can hear your little drunk giggles, and his heart rate is up, and shit, he thinks he might be nervous.

He knows he was nervous before he left. 

"I just-" he says with a frustrated groan, too exasperated to finish his sentence before he starts laughing, too. 

You're both a little tipsy, swaying, drawing closer to one another. It's innate, the way your body leans into his, with zero resistance from Jungkook as your hands grip the front of his coat for support.

"Shuuuush," he whispers, all giddy and coy, holding his index finger to your lips. It's almost as if he gives a fuck about his neighbours.

He doesn't.

He's just using it as an excuse to get closer to you.

"You shush!" You whisper back, mirroring his actions and holding your finger to his lips, too. 

His smile is so big that his dimples are on full display. They're as deep as his eyes are dark, and you just know he must have broken his fair share of hearts in the past. His hands cup your jaw, thumbs resting on the edges of your smile as if he's framing a work of art. He'd argue that he is. 

You look so dainty in his hold, and he finds himself overwhelmed with the need to savour your pretty little laugh. It'll taste just like his, but he doesn't care. Thinks it'll be sweeter coming from your lips. 

And, so, somewhere between your simpering laugh and his darting eyes, as a flickering light in his hallway beats in unison with your hearts, his lips find yours. 

He's still telling you to shush as he does so, and you tell him it back -  but neither of you actually shush until your tongues are in each other's mouths. 

He fumbles the keypad of his door again, getting you both through the threshold and into his tiny studio before you can even look at the mess of clothes everywhere.

The nerves he once had are gone, because he's confident about this; about you.

The movements of your bodies bleed into one another, neither one of you taking the lead. Instead, it's as if you're a pair of figure skaters gliding through his apartment, eyes closed - not that it makes much of a difference. The lights are off, and a string of fairy lights left up since Christmas provides the only source of illumination. 

Jungkook hadn't entirely planned on stumbling home drunk with you, but he knew he'd be stumbling home in some capacity, so leaving them on had seemed like a good idea at the time. He's proven right.  

And even though this night hasn't gone exactly how he had planned, he's not complaining. Especially not when your hands begin to fumble with his jacket. You undo it, push it off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor. 

Casual arrogance graces his lips as he smirks against you, unbuttoning the top of your skirt.

"I don't fuck on first dates," you tell him, but you don't stop him as he pushes the black denim over your hips and lets it fall to the floor. In fact, you're kind of giving him mixed signals as you reach for his belt, sliding the leather through its buckle.

"We've had, like, 300 GS25 dates," he mumbles into your lips between kisses, so casually that it's almost believable.

He pulls his shirt over his head, tosses it to the floor, and grabs your face just to kiss you again as soon as he can. 

It's about now, just after he's finished evaluating your 'dating' history, that you notice the pressure of two small metal balls flicking against your tongue. They're evenly spaced across the centre of his own tongue, and the mere acknowledgement of them has your legs clenching together. The lip ring was bad enough, but a tongue piercing? Fuck. 

He smiles as you moan into his lips, and assures you: "I think it's okay if we fuck."

Your hands are in his hair, his gripping onto your waistline before he rids you of your sweater, and all you can do is nod. Playing hard to get is a game for fools, and you're not really sure why you tried it in the first place. You're gonna be winning either way.

"Yeah, you're right," you mumble into his mouth. "We're basically married."

He laughs, and for a second you think that he must have been made by the Gods. It's the only way to explain how a human could be created so heavenly, even when they're about to commit enough sins to send them straight down to the pits.

"Happy honeymoon," he smirks, assisting you as you begin to push his jeans past his ass and down his thighs. Teamwork makes the dream work, after all.

You're both in your underwear, yet neither of you have even looked at the other's bodies yet. Too preoccupied. Too eager. Too consumed by the overwhelming need to feel one another.

His skin is warm, but the ridges of his torso are so hard that you'd be forgiven for thinking he's carved from stone.

Nudging his parted lips against yours, you gasp as his fingers curl in your hair.  Jungkook just claims your breaths as his own, pressing his lips firmly shut against yours.

One hand clasps your throat, keeping you secure, as the other trails up your thighs.

"Sure you wanna consummate this marriage?" He asks a little breathlessly, playing on the narrative you built up for this moment, just checking before he does anything he can't take back.

But you're impatient, and you don't think you could be any clearer even if you tried.

"Oh my god," you whine. "Just finger me already." 

Your words have him laughing all over again. He likes this, likes that you're not afraid to ask for what you want. He hadn't expected anything less, but it's satisfying to have his assumptions proven right. He kind of gets why you like making so many of them, now.

He fumbles about a little bit, not bothering to turn on the lights. It's not his first rodeo, and he doesn't think it's yours either - in fact, he knows it isn't. You wouldn't be so bold if it was. He doesn't embarrass easy, and knows that there are lessons to be learned with every new woman he acquaints himself with. You're no exception. 

"Gotta tell me what you like," he notes as he presses a kiss against your neck, the smell of your perfume so divine that he thinks you must be some kind of lorelei. It's like a meeting of black cherry and vanilla, but when his nose nestles into your hair, he can smell gasoline - and he thinks it might just be the hottest thing about you. 

You hum a response, the anticipation causing your heart to beat a mile a minute. He pushes the lace of your underwear to the side, his middle finger running between your folds. You're slick from his kisses alone, but so is he is. As you palm at the bulge in his pants, you can feel the wetness of precum leaking from his tip. He wants this just as much as you do.

"You can do better, little miss clutch control," he teases you. "Speak up."

Part of you wants to kick him in the balls. He's so sexy but so fucking annoying - he can hear how much you're enjoying his touch. He doesn't need confirmation - he just wants the gratification of hearing you say it. It's a power trip for him. You don't like giving men power.

"I like it when you shut the fuck up," you reply, hands in his hair, pulling him in for a kiss. If your words won't do it, then at least your lips will. The vibration of his laugh hums into your mouth, before he pulls away - only by an inch or so.

"That's more like it."

His lips return to yours, as quickly as they left, while he continues to roam. His fingers stay in your underwear, the very tip of his index finger mapping you out. Your body shudders when he brushes your clit, the direct contact a little too much.

He dips down to your entrance, pauses, and says "been thinking about this since the moment I met you," and then pushes two of his fingers into your cunt.

Your walls are tight and hot, but oh-so fucking wet. There's nothing about your pussy that he doesn't love. His thick knuckles are celestial inside of you, just as cosmic as the reflection of his fairy lights in his eyes, and you find yourself thinking that maybe those tattooed hands of his are something special, after all.

"Bra off," he husks, and you do as you're told. He'd have done it himself, but his hands are a little preoccupied. 

He adjusts the pair of you as your bra hits the floor, encouraging your legs around his waist.  Hoisting you up before you really have a chance to comprehend what he's doing, you're pretty certain that this is just an excuse to display his strength. You're impressed, so it's working, but you're also unable to really think about anything other than the way he feels inside of you.

Your back is against the wall, the weight of his body keeping you pinned in position as he fucks his fingers into you. There's no real calculation to his movements, just an awareness that he absolutely cannot fuck you yet. He'll simply finish too quickly. 

It's not that he doesn't enjoy a quickie - truth be told, he finds them far more convenient - it's just that it would be mortifying. 

He's not sure he'd actually be able to show up at the gas station ever again if you heard him whine like a little bitch and unload himself in five seconds flat.

Equally, he doesn't want you to dread his car coming into the forecourt. 

He wants you daydreaming about him, all hazy-eyed, like you are when you're drunk, waiting for his car to roll in. He wants you musing about the way his tongue feels against your neck, and your coworker asking why you're smiling so much. He wants you blushing as you try to think of a justification, and he wants you excusing yourself to go to the bathroom to sort out the wetness pooling in your underwear. 

So, yeah. A quickie simply won't do.

He grips onto the side of your neck with his spare hand as he sinks his fingers into your pussy again. The way you gasp is like music to his ears, every single one of his senses overrun by the entity that you are. 

It's mutual though. You're consumed by everything that he is; his scent, the sound of his laboured grunts, the taste of his tongue and the feel of his hands all over your body. The only sense he isn't violating is your sight - but it's only 'cause he's making you feel so good that your eyes are forced to rest shut. 

Jungkook, on the other hand, exclusively watches you. He marvels at the way your head leans back against the wall, neck exposed for him to leave a trail of pretty purple bruises. He knows he shouldn't. Knows he shouldn't leave a single mark on your skin. Knows better than to leave evidence of his crimes, but it's a sin he thinks he'd quite like to commit over and over again.

You're pretty good at faking it. A string of careless lovers, of whom you used to entertain prior to learning your worth, had helped you to perfect a moan. You can manipulate your body, make your chest heave with exertion, your pussy throb around their fingers, their cocks. You can make it leak, get yourself looking like a fucking mess for them, as if it's because of them. It's a fine art. 

Botticelli would admire you, you think. His Venus couldn't compete with you. Femme fatal; a kisser of jaws, a killer of the men you have to let down gently because they fall too in love with you for your liking. Understandably, given what you can do. You've mastered it. Mastered men.

And it's for this reason, that you don't fake anymore. If someone isn't pleasing you, you let them know. You view it as a way of helping humanity - or their future girlfriends, at least. Why waste time letting someone else think they're getting you off, when it's you doing all the hard work?

You'd gone into this prepared; ready to remedy what would inevitably be a disappointing shag with a near stranger.

But you're not throbbing around Jungkook's fingers - you're trembling. There's no self-made stutter in your chest, but there's one a little lower down, one that you've got absolutely no jurisdiction over. Y'see, the way you're gasping, like you're struggling against a riptide, caught in the wave that is Jeon Jungkook, can't be faked. 

It's what has him smirking as he puts pressure behind the kisses he's placing on your neck. It's the fact that every time you try and speak, even if it's just a curse or the sound of his name, it's cut short. You've no control. Fuck all. It's all on him, on account of him being inside you. If he's learnt anything about you in the short time that he's known you, it's that you're never speechless. Always getting that last word in. 

But you can't even formulate one now, his fingers pumping into you at such a speed, that the lewd wet noise is almost louder than your moans. Almost.

Jungkook isn't a jealous kind of guy, especially not when it comes to casual hookups - but he kind of thinks he's jealous of his own fucking fingers. 

Every single part of him wants your pussy; his tongue, his cock. You feel so good around him that he regrets not making a move sooner. Should have asked to fuck you as soon as you started talking about his car on his first visit to the gas station. Lord knows he thought about it.

His lips are on yours, not really kissing you, resting open, his breaths heavy and laboured. The way he's pushing into you, deeper, deeper, has you mirroring his expression, small moans pouring into his mouth. He wants to eat them up, devour them, use them as fuel.

You loosen the grip you have in his pale hair, gripping onto his neck with one hand, the other falling to his bicep. He likes the scratch of your nails against his bare skin, but there's a distance between you both that he wants to close. He pulls his hand from beneath your ass, relying on his core strength alone to keep you pressed into the wall, and reaches for your fingers. Intertwining them, he places his hand, with yours beneath it, back against the wall, above your head. 

The change in position has your chest lifting, almost as if your tits are begging to have his lips around them - and who is he to refuse?

His tongue finds your nipple, flicking against the hardened nub before sucking it between his lips. The vibration of his studs against your sensitive bud has your back arching. He sucks you further into his mouth, tongue lapping against you, before he releases your nipple - but it's so puffy, and wet, and perfect, and fuck- he can't help himself, teasing at it again with his tongue. 

So fixated on how you feel in his mouth, he's forgotten that he meant to be fucking you. His cock throbs beneath his boxers, as his fingers are kept warm by your walls, slick wetness creaming around the base of his knuckles and dripping down his palm.

His apartment is small, so it only takes him a moment to move you from the wall and toss you down into his sheets. There's a waft of his fabric conditioner as he does so, floral and soft. It's hard to imagine a man so broad, so handsome, so god damn irresistible, paying any attention to laundry - but you suppose it must just add to his charm.

"C'mere," you whine, as he takes a moment to take in the sight of you. Missing the way he feels, you pull him down onto the bed -  but he's scared that even just rutting against you will have him spilling himself all over your stomach. Instead, he places himself beside you, and gets to work.

There's a familiarity now, his mouth taking your nipple again, wet and wanting, as his fingers toy with your pussy. He's not sure which he prefers, your pussy or tits, but he's more than happy to play with them both. His thumb presses on your swollen clit, and you writhe beneath him. "You like that, huh?"

You try and respond, but his thumb begins to rub languid circles against you. If you couldn't muster a word before, then like fuck can you speak now.

"Huh?" he teases, teeth grazing your hardened nipple, now. His finger strokes at your walls as he sinks into you once more, on the hunt for something that no one has ever been able to find, except you. The way your legs are tensing lets him know he's close. 

"I asked if you like that." He's only a knuckle deep, stroking pretty little circles against your walls. Closer. You whine. "Don't go all shy on me now, doll."

Your body writhes beneath his, toes curling, teeth digging down on his shoulder in a failed attempt at keeping quiet. He hopes you'll leave a mark. His thumb presses a little harder against your clit, encircling it with pressure so deep that you're almost certain you'll die from his touch.

"Don't stop," is all you can manage. "Don't stop- fuck."

"Better," he says, pressing a kiss into your neck. You can feel his precum leaking onto your thigh, and the idea of him dirtying you has you insatiable. He can tell you're at his level now, so close to finishing that it won't be embarrassing when he's done in five-seconds-flat -  but the way you're putty in his hands has him unable to stop himself. He's gotta make you cum. Needs to. 

He presses his thumb down, fingers up, as if he's pinching them together, and then he's stroking and - "Oh, fuck it. Right there. Right fucking there." - he's found it. 

He's fucking found it, the little ridge in your pussy that up until now has been just for you. You've lied before, told guys they've hit your g-spot and faked a little something that convinces them of it - but it's never been like this. Ever. Not even when you find it. 

Jungkook follows your commands. He won't stop, doesn't stop, not even when your nails grab at his wrist because the pleasure is so unbearable, so intense, that it fucking hurts. 

"Like that," you encourage, knowing your grip probably says otherwise. "Like that, fuck."

He does as he's told, and keeps like that, lips latching onto your nipple, sucking just as hard as his fingers are massaging. The slickness of your walls compared with the texture of your g-spot has him going insane. He doesn't think it's his first time finding such a sacred spot, but it's never been this easy, and the reaction has never been this good. 

You moan out his name, 'cause he's all you can think about. Any and all articulation of your pleasure goes on him.

"Yeah, baby?" he asks, forgetting that he doesn't know you nearly well enough to be addressing you like that, but he doesn't slow down. You just moan. He can call you whatever the fuck he wants at this point. It's too good. Too much.

"Kook, I-" you try, but your hips are bucking, and there's fuck all you can do to stop it.

"Just a little more, baby," he promises you. 

He will make you cum. Will do whatever it takes, if needs be. The tip of his cock is red and leaky against your thigh, ready to fuck into you, but he doesn't give a shit. Your walls are hot. Burning hot. And then they're throbbing, and your torso begins to tense. You whisper his name like a secret prayer, legs trying to close around the welcome intrusion of his hand. 

"That's it," he keens. "Cum for me, doll. All over my fingers. That's it."

You're fucking mewling as your body shudders against his. There's no dignity left in your body. It's pooling in the palm of his hand, slick and slippery, just where he wants it.

"You're unreal," he hums, drawing the last of your little death from you. "Fucking insane, babe. So fucking hot."

Turns out the Grim Reaper had made an appearance that evening, just in the form of a 6-foot adonis, who knows his way around a pussy like he does a bloody electric switchboard. 

You're panting, and so is he, his lips curving against your skin. Neither of you speaks for a minute, both casually aware that it - this, the night - isn't over yet. 

And then Jungkook just thinks to hell with acting coy, or playing it cool. You're naked in his bed, and so is he. No point in beating around the bush (unless you're into it).

"Wanna eat you out," he says as he presses a kiss into your neck, placing himself more centrally over you. Your chest is still heaving, and the thought of cumming again makes you feel all dizzy. His elbows are rested by your head, cock stiff against your tummy. You wrap your arms around his neck, toying with his pretty blonde hair. "Wanna fuck you first, though."

There's a logistical step to be taken there. You're on birth control, and the subject of regularly testing had come up during a particularly suggestive conversation over dinner. You both know he'll be fucking you raw - which means he's finishing raw, too.

"But-"

"I don't care," he mumbles into your lips, a little rough, claiming them as his own. He really doesn't give a fuck if it means eating his own cum. Not like he hasn't done it before. He's probably just gonna spit it into your mouth, anyways.

He pulls his hips back to line himself up. The tip of his cock nudges into you slowly, gently, and then he eases himself forward. It burns, the thickness of his shaft spreading you in a way that his fingers couldn't. It's bliss. Divine. Heavenly, and yet absolute sin. 

He revels in the way you feel, for a moment, letting your walls stretch before he sinks into you fully. You curse as he does so, the pain overridden by pleasure. His hips begin to pick up pace, eyes on yours to make sure that you're okay as he ploughs into you. 

It's like he's digging for diamonds, almost. Funny thing is, when you gasp, eyes all wide and focused on his, it's looks like he's found them in your eyes. It's just the reflection of his fairy lights, but the illusion fools him.

Looking at you is too much for him to handle, so Jungkook kisses you as his hips begin to stall. He really wasn't kidding when he figured he'd finish in no time at all. His brows are creased, moans muffled against your lips. His torso shudders, abdomen as tight as his balls.

"Gonna make me cum," he drowsily mewls, fucking himself into you like it's where he belongs. 

His body is clammy against yours, stamina impressive but dwindling. His thrusts are getting sloppy, and so are his kisses, but you kind of love it like this; Jungkook so out of control he isn't even trying to keep a pace anymore. The rhythm of your body beneath his, the way he fits inside of you, how soft and warm your tits are as they pillow against his chest, it's all too much for him. 

He's so deep he's practically kissing your cervix with the tip of his cock, and yet he still hooks your leg over his elbow. He needs to be deeper. 

"Gonna make me cum so much. You want that, huh? Wanna be the reason I cum?" he grunts, and then his words become needy. "Tell me you want it, doll. Tell me."

He licks into your mouth, toying with your tongue before you even get a chance to respond.

"Don't want it," you pant, his harsh thrusts interrupting your words. He's about to be offended, all needy and pouty while he's buried inside you, but you're biting down on your lip and - oh, god - he's obsessed. "Need it. Cum for me. Want it so bad."

He smiles against your cheek as his hips move languidly between your legs. One of his hands comes down to your hip to help him control himself, but he can't. Not when he can feel you smiling, too. He laughs a little, soft and mellow against your skin - and when you do the same thing back, Jungkook knows he's absolutely done for.

"I'm gonna-" he rasps, unable to finish his sentence. "Where? Where do you want me?"

You don't say anything, just tighten the grip of your legs around his waist. You're a fucking mess, mentally, physically. He's ruined you in every sense of the word.

"Sure?"

"Sure," you pant against his skin, before repeating your earlier claim. "Need it. Need you."

It's a lie. You don't. You barely know him - but you feel so in tune, so aligned, when he's inside you that it feels like your pussy is the only place his cum deserves to be. It'd be wasted on your tits (though Jungkook would definitely disagree).

"God," he groans. "Don't say shit like that."

Jungkook has severely underestimated just how much of a little bitch you can be.

"Like what?" you pout as his thrusts get even sloppier, his skin slapping against yours. "What can't I say? How much I need you?"

He curses your name, lips showering you in pretty kisses. His tongue finds its home inside your mouth, but it's just an attempt to shut you up. A pretty good one, in all fairness. The way his studs feel against your tongue has you dripping around the base of his cock.

You can hear it; Jungkook slipping in and out of your soaked pussy like you're fire and he's ice.

"Need you," you simper again, just to fuck with him a little more. "Need to feel you fill me up."

"You want it that bad, huh?"

He pulls himself back a little, sitting up on his heels, holding onto your hips as he fucks himself into you. Your tits pillow on your chest, bouncing in time with his thrusts, hypnotising him, almost. You're smiling as your forearms cover your eyes, a little shameful of being caught in such a compromising position, but loving it nonetheless.

"Looking a little shy, there," he says, but his tone is so low it almost sounds like a growl. You pull your arms away, and he's amazed that you can still manage to raise a brow and throw him a pissed off glare even when he's balls deep in you. Truth be told, it just makes him want you even more. He's fond as he smiles at you. "There she is."

Even if you can't fake your orgasms for him, you can still fake annoyance.

"You gonna cum, or what?" You sigh, and then he's laughing, sinking back down, elbows either side of your head as he kisses you. "All men do is lie."

"Not gonna cum," he says, and you're right - it is a lie. "Just gonna keep fucking you forever."

"I have work tomorrow."

"Fuck if I care," he sinks his tongue back into your mouth, briefly, just to remind you who's really in control here. "Said I'll fuck you forever, so forever it is."

There's a bell chiming in your tummy, and you're not able to convince yourself that it's just another building orgasm. It's still him, though, in a round about way.

"We're not allowed to bring our pets to work," you deadpan. "No can do."

Jungkook stops thrusting, and pulls his head back, almost to look at you in disbelief. He's smiling, and he's so desperately turned on that his balls fucking hurt, but he's never been more perplexed in bed. You're equal parts a siren and a little shit.

You're grinning too, pleased to have rendered him speechless. "What is it, huh? Cat got your tongue?"

He smirks, now. "Nah. Not yet. But it will."

And then he's back at it, hips erratic, building such a pace that you can't even think, let alone come out with some dumb remark.  

"Still need it, huh?" He recites your words back to you, voice raspy and hushed, so close it feels like his body could give out at any second. He's edging himself, trying to make it last just a little bit longer, but it's so wet, and you're so fucking tight, and he's throbbing, and grunting and - fuck - it's so fucking good he might just die. 

"You're gonna look so pretty when I fill you up," he moans, before correcting himself. "Already pretty. So fucking pretty."

His hips slap against yours, once, twice, and then it's happening. 

He buries himself in you, body tense as a shiver runs down his spine. Your nails dig into his back, a hushed whine escaping from his mouth and getting lost in your hair. 

His cock unloads thick creamy spurts with every stroke of your pussy, coating you with the very essence of everything that he is. It's overindulgent and unrestrained. Fuck if it isn't the most full you've ever felt, ropes of thick cum spurting into you like he was built to fucking breed.

He pumps himself gently inside you for a moment or so, just to ease the remainder of his hot cum into you. The sound is lewd as he adjusts, his job very much done.

Neither of you speak for a moment, hedonism taking heed. The way his heart beats in his chest is unlike anything you've ever felt before. In fact, you're almost in a state of shock, and so is he.

Only for a moment, though. He's not actually done yet.

Your first orgasm was cute - but there's no way he's letting you see him that pathetic, that weak, without making sure you end up in the exact same state. 

He presses a few kisses to your damp neck, laughing softly. "Get what you wanted?"

Looking at you, brown eyes all big and sparkling, he pulls his torso back up, ass resting on his heels, before checking the state of his cock as he withdraws himself. 

You're smiling as you watch him stare at where the pair of you meet with such devotion that it's hard not to feel a little enamoured with him. Even if it is just a casual fuck.

"Got what I wanted." Your voice is light and airy, like you're a Disney princess waking up from centuries of slumber. Might not have had true loves kiss, but you bet none of them has ever had a fuck like Jungkook. 

You pout a little when he finishes pulling out, sad to have lost the feeling of fullness. He catches your expression, and smiles. 

"Cute," he says a little mindlessly, articulating a thought that wasn't meant to be shared.

"Shut up," you reply, embarrassed, but he doesn't mind. Not in the slightest. In fact, he loves that you didn't want him to leave. Kind of wishes that he could have kept his cock buried inside you, instead.

But Jungkook is a man of convictions, and a firm believer that he'll simply die if he can't eat you out.

You sort of think the moment has passed, that it was something he said in the heat of the moment. Figure now he's orgasmed, he's finished - but Jungkook is an endurance athlete, not a sprinter. There's still a hurdle left to jump.

He presses your legs apart so that he can look at you. Your hole is creamy and fucked out, his load slowly seeping out of you with every beat of your heart. His fingers dip just beneath your entrance, collecting his cum on them, before he pushes it back into you. He doesn't look at you, just your cunt, as he says, "told you you'd look pretty full of my cum."

The way he's staring at you, like a man who hasn't eaten for days being presented with a three course meal, has you feeling all hot and bothered.

You're satisfied. The sex you just had was enough. More than enough - but you're getting weak at the knees again, his desire infectious. You can't remember a time you've ever wanted someone as badly as you want him. Not for any deeper reason than the selfish fact that he makes you feel good. It's pure lust, no romance about it.

His fingers continue to push his cum into you, stroking up and down your walls, applying just enough pressure to let you know he's there.

He moves his body back, keeping his fingers snug inside you - and then he lowers his body, just a couple of inches from you. His breath feels cold against the slick wetness covering your pussy. 

"Also told you I wanted to eat you," he adds, as if you need reminding.

His spare hand strokes down the inside of your thigh before it reaches your hot core, and he begins to toy with your pussy. He spreads your lips open, just like he did your legs, and then he's studying you. Figuring out ways he can get your squirming. 

The first initial contact is brief; the tip of his tongue licking across the top of your clit. A parched moan escapes your lips, and he smiles. "There?"

"There," you moan, eyes closed, head pushed back into his pillows. 

He does it again, tongue a little flatter, a little firmer. You feel his piercing against you this time, smooth and hard. Your clit is snug between the two studs, like it was made to be there. He does it again. Wetter, deeper. And again. Slower, harder - and then his speed builds. 

He licks up and down across your clit, rolling it beneath his tongue, once, twice- and then you lose count, so lost in ecstasy that all you can think about is his tongue lapping at your cum-filled cunt, plugged with his fingers.

Occasionally, he sucks gently on your clit, just to earn a little extra moan from you. It works every single time.

You're leaking around his fingers at this point, so close to cumming again that it's impossible to keep your legs open. He feels the pressure of your thighs against his head, and it only serves to encourage him. His speed builds, both his tongue and his fingers meeting with your pussy at such divine speeds that you're sure you'll cum in such an undignified manner that'll he'll perhaps regret his choices.

As your muscles begin to tense, his head in a literal death grip, he smiles, dimples deep and lips pretty against your pussy. Jungkook is utterly enthralled with how it feels to have his face between your thighs. 

He keeps his eyes closed, letting himself experience the sensations of your body completely unadulterated. If he could see you, he'd be so obsessed with the view that he might not savour you in the way that he wants to. He wants to taste you, to smell you, to feel how soft and warm you are. If he wasn't obsessed before (which he was), then he definitely is, now.

The pressure builds, his tongue lapping against you, one of your hands tangled in his messy blonde hair, the other holding one of your boobs for a little moral support. 

You're too far gone to even let him know you're about to come undone all over again. He knows, though. He can feel you pulsing, and then you're gasping, and panting, and mewling and fuck, he loves the way you sound.

Your muscles throb as he brings you to orgasm. It's so undignified that you're certain you'll never cum like this again. Your abdomen flexes involuntarily, making sure your orgasm is signed, sealed, delivered to you. He pushes your legs apart again, glancing up towards you as he licks one final stripe up your exposed mess.

You ignore the slick on his fingers that's now coating your thigh as he spreads them apart, too busy with the fact his chin is soaked, hair a mess, nose blushed. He's watching your entrance seep; a mixture of himself and you. 

It's hard to know what belongs to who, but as he dips down and licks it up with the tip of his pointed tongue, the ownership is clear. It doesn't matter whose is whose, because your pussy belongs to him, now. 

It's all his. 

He gathers the creamy slick on his tongue, and then he pulls on your hand to encourage you into a sitting position.

You're putty in his hands, doing whatever he tells you, which is albeit very little. In fact, he doesn't say anything - just looks at your lips, then your eyes, and clasps your jaw. 

He opens his mouth and pools his tongue, letting the mess that you've both made sit prettily in his mouth, dancing over his studs. He nods gently, moving his thumb from your jaw to your pillowy bottom lip, pressing down on it. 

Open. 

He's insatiable. Wants his cum on your tongue, but wants yours on his, too.

You spread your lips apart, eyes exclusively on his. Your tongue flicks against his thumb.

And then you nod.

Please.

Jungkook is slow in his approach, tentative as he holds your jaw, bringing your closer to him. His tongue licks into your mouth, swiping against yours, swapping his cum between the pair of you. It's a languid exchange, slow and sensual, neither of you caring for the boundaries that are being crossed. 

He pulls away from you, hand gripping your jaw again. You open your mouth instinctively, just like he wants you to. Neither of you pay any attention to his phone, which is flashing on the floor next to his bed. 

Spit gathers in his mouth, rinsing himself of the pair of you as he draws you closer to him, your mouth still resting open. He spits directly into it. You whimper a little as he does so, his grip on your jaw keeping your mouth open for him to observe just how messy it is; all thanks to him.

"Swallow," he tells you, easing his grip, and so you do. 

Lips closed, you swallow everything; his spit, his cum, your cum, all of it. When he grips your jaw again, you know the drill, but it doesn't stop him from commanding you. 

"Open."

He's pleased when you do, mouth all pretty and clean for him to ruin again - but instead, he just kisses you softly, hands on your cheeks, pushing your bodies back down into his sheets. There's a tenderness to the way in which he touches you; as if he realises you sacrificed a little dignity for him, so he's trying to restore it.

He's hard again - had never really softened, in all honesty - but he's too sensitive to do anything about it.

"Stay," he mumbles against your lips. Your hands are in his hair, keeping him close, as your legs wrap around his waist. "Stay the night. Wanna wake up to this."

You moan into his lips. His cock is firmly pressed into your stomach, his naked body warm against yours. 

There's something about the weight of his body, the firmness of his muscular chest against the soft pillow of your own, that is unrivalled by any other sleeping arrangement you could think of.

And despite knowing exactly what he's saying, and being far too skeptical to think he means anything other than sex, you still choose to toy with him a little.

"Wake up to what?" You purr into his lips, aware that your hips are languidly rolling against him again. 

He kisses down your neck, laughing softly to himself. His smile vibrates against your skin, and, for a moment, it's your favourite feeling in the whole entire world.

"To you."

You're pretty sure he can feel the way your pulse skips a beat in your neck. But again, you're difficult. And this arrangement definitely isn't anything more than just sex.

"You mean to my pussy, right?"

He presses pretty little kisses back up your neck, along your jaw and into your lips. They're cute. Kind. Romantic, even. 

"Oh, a hundred percent," he grins against your lips, and then you're laughing too.

"You're so mean," you pout, as if you weren't the one to put the words into his mouth. There's a dimple etched into his cheek, eyes all hazy and sparkling as he shakes his head. He thinks you look adorable when you pout. So damn cute. He steals another kiss, and protests.

"Made you cum twice," Jungkook says, and has the audacity to scrunch his nose, acting all cute and shit. You're embarrassed, bringing your hands from his hair to cover your face, which you just know is flaming red. "I think that's actually pretty nice of me." 

He pulls one of your hands away from your face, and kisses your knuckles. His smile matches yours - because while yes, you're embarrassed, you're still riding the post-fuck high, too.

"You also spat in mouth," you remind him, and then he's cringing. Jekyll and Hyde have nothing on Jungkook when it comes to him and, well, him in bed. "That's not very nice."

He covers his eyes with his hands, but his teeth are still on show, smile prevailing. "Shut up."

And then he's kissing you again, 'cause fuck it, he just can't stop himself. 

It's been a while since he last got like this. In fact, he probably hasn't been this giddy post-fuck since he was a teenager. He's normally in the shower by this point, ridding himself of whoever he's been inside - but he doesn't have the compulsion to do that with you.

He knows that when he breaks from the spell you've cast upon him, he'll be back to reality. The fairy dust will settle on the ground like ashes, and the magic that once was will become nothing but malice.

There's a bridge to be crossed.

Jungkook has been fixing it up - repairing the cracks, making it sturdy - but he's not sure he wants what's on the other side, anymore. Not when you're in his bed, not when he can feel your chest wobble with every little laugh you do, and not when your nails are tenderly scratching at his scalp.

See, he likes being on this side of the bridge. Likes being with you.

But if he doesn't cross it, the trolls beneath it will inevitably come for him.

And so he asks you to stay again, but this time he says it like he means it.

"I want you to stay with me," he speaks quietly, rolling off of you and curling up beside you, reaching for the duvet that ended up at the end of his bed. He brings it back over your bodies, as if he's locking you in. You have to stay now.

You turn to face him, curling up too, mirroring him. Your fingers delicately tuck strands of his beautiful blonde hair behind his ear, ignoring the way his eyes are focused on you. Instead, you watch your hand as it moves, curiously touched by the fact he wants you to stay. You don't peg him as guy who often wants a girl to stay.

You're right to assume that.

Right to assume that he normally doesn't do this.

One night stands? Yeah, sure. He's had a handful - but never at his place. He doesn't like inviting people back to his apartment. It feels too personal. He likes being able to leave. He doesn't do the whole waking up together thing - no matter how much he likes morning sex (of which he does ( a LOT)).

But Jungkook's thinking about that bridge again.

He's thinking about the fact he knows shouldn't be at home right now.

He's thinking about the fact that you should be at home right now.

He's thinking about the fact his phone is on silent, and that Namjoon is probably cursing him out on voicemail right now.

But then you kiss him, and for a moment, he forgets again.

"I get grouchy when I'm hungover," you warn him, giving him an out, just in case he wants to retract his offer.

"Mhmm," he hums, pulling you into his chest. Your legs intertwine as he squeezes you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "You're grouchy when you're not hungover."

You laugh, cheeks plump and full, resting right where his heart is pumping a little faster than usual.

"You're lucky you're a good fuck, or else I'd be out of that door ASAP."

It's a lie, and you both know it.

"Thank god for my cock," he says, grinning like an absolute twat. 

He decides that he's still really drunk. It's the only way to explain how his body feels all disjointed but perfectly together at the same time.

"Thank god for your cock."

────────────

You're still awake as the sun begins to rise. He's mumbling, saying something about how a town in Alaska has a cat for a mayor, while your head rests on his bare chest.

He's a little clammy, the smell of sex stuck to him. Neither of you have showered yet. You enjoy the way your bodies are a little sticky, skin on skin, as if you're made for his bed; for him.

Every now and again, his hands roam out of the realm of safety, and you find your breath hitching, toes curling, lips parting. It's always accompanied by the sound of an airy smirk from Jungkook.

You learn that he's obsessed with your chest. Your tits, more specifically. So pillowy, so soft. A gift bestowed upon you from Venus herself, he thinks, or at least he would, if he knew who Venus was.

He just wants to hold them forever. In his hands, in his mouth, he doesn't care. He'll put his dick between them too, eventually. Another time. He's too sensitive right now. But definitely one day, and definitely soon.

A little sunlight pours in, and you watch speckles of dust as they dance around in the air. When he laughs, soft and serene in the hazy atmosphere of a post-fuck come down, it's nice. You imagine that you'd quite like to do this again. You hope he feels the same.

"Just think it's funny," he says, toying with your fingers. "How a cat can do a better job than fully grown men."

"Pussy power," you smile, and so does he, before he presses a kiss into your hair. It still smells like gasoline and he still thinks it's the sexiest thing in the world. It's funny, 'cause if you knew it smelt that way, you'd feel insecure about it. It's why he doesn't mention it. Doesn't want you withdrawing from his touch.

He nestles down, shifts his naked body beneath his duvet but keeps you close. His legs interlock with yours and his lips find a home on the curve of your shoulder. "I'm really glad you said yes."

The comment seems out of the blue, but it's not. Your thoughts have been echoing in his mind, too. It sounds a lot like vulnerability. To him, it feels more like he's laying down a safety net. Making his intentions clear. Doesn't want you second-guessing. Not this, at least. He knows the way you like to theorise.

"You didn't really give me a choice," you rib, as if that chime isn't back in your diaphragm.

He squeezes you tightly. "Don't say that. You could have said no."

You shuffle down, tilt your head, and press a kiss into his chest, just between his pecks. Sweet like honey, your lips trail across, placing delicate kisses in pride of place.

His firm muscle; one, two. His dark nipple; a flick of your tongue, one, two. Just above his beating heart; one, two, three.

Your lips feather across his collarbone and land where tattoo leaks ever so slightly onto the top of his chest. You sign the art with your kisses like the ultimate thief. Stolen. Yours, now.

"You'd have still shown up regardless."

And you're right, he would have done.

Not for any grand romantic gesture, nor to coerce you into something you didn't want. He's just got a job to do, that's all.

He doesn't respond, but you don't really notice.

By the time you're dressed and leaving his apartment, the 503 is running. He offers to pay for your fare, but you tell him that it's fine, and hop on the bus as if your insides don't burn. It's been a while since you had a workout that vigorous.

There are a few old women and a middle-aged man in a business suit taking the same journey as you.

Your cheeks flush crimson when you start to think about the ache in the pit of your stomach, right beneath that little chime that likes to ding every now and again. That feeling? The one that made you quietly gasp as you sat down? That's Jungkook.

The acknowledgement ruminates. It's insidious. Has you feeling all dirty.

You wonder if they know. The people on the bus, the one's sat around you. They couldn't possibly know, not really, but you brood over the notion that you give off an aura; one that says you've just been fucked by the most beautiful man you've ever laid eyes upon.

You wonder if the old ladies glance at you and long for the days when they'd go home with strangers.

You wonder if the middle-aged man is responding to the pheromones you're releasing without realising it, cock a little plump in his pants.

It's a morbid curiosity, but one that makes you feel all hot, and sticky, and sordid. Makes you feel good, too. A little dangerous. A little bit like you wanna get off the 503 and leg it back to Jungkook's place.

It has you reaching for your phone, pulling up kakaotalk and clicking through on your most recent contact. There's still a message at the top of your thread, warning about spam, or fraud, or whatever it is. You don't read it. Too busy typing away.

You're about to press send on a poorly thought out message when your phone vibrates in your palm. You pause. Cringe. Are aware that Jungkook will have seen how quickly you read his own message that's just come through to you.

꾹:  i wanna do that again.

You: the galbi or the sex?

꾹: both.

꾹: mainly the sex, though.

꾹: the galbi i can take or leave.

Your legs press together, and realise you're squirming in your seat. It's subtle, but anyone who's looking at you must know.

You: funny, im the opposite.

You:  id die for the galbi.

You:  sex was alright.

꾹: wow, a glowing review.

꾹: can i add it to my tinder profile?

Like fuck you can, you think to yourself. If he's still active on tinder after the night you had together, you'll do the reasonable thing and learn witchcraft just so you can hex him. You tell yourself you're just joking, but honestly, the idea is tempting.

You: uh-huh.

You: you can put it right beneath a bullet point where you let them know how much you like eating your own cum :)

꾹:  technically, you ate it.

꾹: i just delivered it :)

You: thank you for your services.

꾹: any time.

You: tonight?

꾹: please.

And so he arrives at the gas station just before nine, hood up, angelic strands of blonde hair tickling over his eyes. He's got a mask on, like he usually does, a black turtle neck resting prettily around his throat. An earth-toned flannel shirt peeks out from the bottom of his jacket, where the hem meets a pair of black jeans. He has a charm about him that makes the world stop turning for a moment when you first look at him.

He's not really sure how to greet you. With a kiss? A high five? Neither of these seems like a good idea, so he just does an awkward half-bow, which leaves cringing.

"Just gotta cash up," you smile from behind the kiosk. "You walked?"

He shakes his head. "Parked around the corner again. Didn't wanna block the forecourt."

It's a reasonable enough excuse, even if a little weird. You finish what you're doing, cash up, give Jieun the keys (and ignore the way she's grinning at you) and then toss your jacket over your shoulders. He walks beside you as you leave the store, popping your hood up again just like he did the night before. "It's windy."

The forecast said it would rain, too, but Jungkook doesn't know this. Doesn't actually give a shit about the weather. Just needs excuses to put your hood up.

"So I've been thinking," he says as you make your way to the side lane.

"Dangerous," you quip, but he ignores it - though he does nudge you a little. You let your body move in accordance with his, swaying back into him slightly. Like a swinging pendulum, you're about to recoil, but Jungkook's arm drapes around your shoulders, keeping you close. The scent of his clothes is a mix of fresh cotton and WD-40. It makes you laugh, how much a walking juxtaposition he really is.

"I've been thinking," he reinforces, and pauses just in case you're planning on interrupting again - but you don't. You want to hear his thoughts. All of them. No matter how big or small. "What if... What if we skip the sex tonight?"

You don't respond immediately, walking around to the passenger's side of his car. He clicks down on his key, opening up the locks. The lights flood your features, illuminating you in warm hues, reds and oranges, as if to send Jungkook a warning: she's dangerous.

"Skip the sex?" You raise a brow, ignoring the butterfly atrium that has spontaneously constructed beneath your ribs. "You lured me here under false pretences, Mr Gimbap."

He doesn't question the nickname. Figures he'll find out its origins this evening. After all, all he wants to do is talk.

Talk about you, where you come from, where you plan on going. He wants to know more; what makes you tick, your favourite chocolate bar wrapper joke, if you really meant what you said about not fucking on first dates. Wants to know if he's special. Wants to know if he gets to you the same way you do to him.

He'll ask you about your favourite Shakespeare play, and he'll hope that you'll say Romeo & Juliet. It's the only one he's read.

You'll tell him that it's not a representation of love, and he'll say he knows. He doesn't - he just won't want you to think that he bases his idea of romance on such ill-fated endeavours. Thinks it's about stars-crossing, illicit affairs, love that prevails. Shit like that.

He isn't really sure what it all means, but he's seen the Baz Luhrmann adaptation, and that's enough.

You'll say that Romeo is an ass, and he'll feign offence and tell you that you'll never be his Juliet. It'll earn him a laugh from you. That's fine; you never wanted to be her.

You're a Beatrice in search of her Benedict, after all - and the way that the pair of you bicker, it seems like you might have just found him - even if he does think he's a Romeo. Twat.

"I didn't," he laughs in response to your earlier statement. "I just like to know the girls I'm sticking my dick in, that's all."

"Ohh, romance," you whistle through pursed lips, throwing him a coy smile.

He nods towards the buckle by your seat and tells you to do the belt up, as his key turns in the ignition. There's a small rumble, his exhaust rattling as fumes begin to bluster around the end of the pipe. He's listening again, revving the engine ever so gently, foot on the throttle.

The way he cares for his motor makes you laugh. He's so temperate, so careful - but you know he abuses the engine like no tomorrow whenever he races it. He treats it almost as if it's a racehorse; something with actual feelings.

You do as you're told, clicking the belt into place, and remind him to do the same.

"The girls?" You question as he passes you the aux. "Multiple?"

There's a static click as you plug it into your phone, before your playlist starts up again. His hands move like machines, smooth and automatic as he slips into first gear.

"The girls," he echoes, eyes flicking up to the rear-view mirror, and then over his shoulder to check the blind spots, before easing onto the main road.

"Charming," you say dryly.

It's not like you hadn't assumed this already. You had already decided that he at least had a friend with benefits lurking about (even if she had become too clingy (actually, no, especially if she had become too clingy)).

You'd figured that it was where he had been on the night that he was a no show - but then he'd shown up all apologetic and shit. You had let his innocent eyes win your skeptical mind over.

"Guys aren't really my thing," he follows up, sensing your discomfort. He knows he's beating around the bush, not giving you the answer that you want - and he also knows that you're getting in your head about it. Knows you'll be questioning what he means, and if he's sleeping with anyone else. He'd be within his right to. You barely know each other. Where he sticks his dick isn't really any of your business. "And I'm hardly a virgin, am I?"

"Gasp," you say. "You're not?! Could have fooled me."

He's smiling again.

You like how much he does that around you. Wonder if he's like that around other girls, too.

"Was I really that bad?" He flirts.

Jungkook knows how to fuck. He's been given enough positive reviews to know that he's anything but bad. Although... he kinda is. But in a good way. In the way that you want him to be bad.

"I've had better."

Liar.

"Ouch," he laughs as he presses down on his indicator for the next left. "Guess I'll just have to keep practising."

City lights cascade over the pair of you as his car rolls through the quiet streets, splintering like refractions of a mirror ball. He hates that he has to keep his eyes on the road. Wants to drink in the way you look almost as much as he wants to drink up the way you taste again. The night is dark, the moon hiding behind a fluffy cloud that looks like charcoal cotton candy beneath its radiant light. Jungkook loves nights like these; likes them even better with you in his passenger seat.

Green flashes over your features as he passes beneath a traffic light. You cross your legs, adjusting your posture. It's so subtle that you don't even realise you're doing it - but Jungkook does.

"On your other girls?"

There she is, he thinks. It's what he's been waiting for. Confirmation that the idea of him fucking other girls irritates you. He reaches across and taps your knee. He enjoys the predictability of you.

You resist the gentle nudge of his hand, the pads of his thumb and fingers resting on your kneecap. Your legs remain crossed, just as his hand remains on your knee. The stretch of road you're on is straight, requiring no gear change for a little while. He can play this game, if you really want him to.

"No," he says. There's pressure beneath his fingertips now. "Be a waste of time, wouldn't it? Everyone's different. If I wanna get better at fucking you, specifically, then I gotta keep fucking you."

He's not wrong. You can't fault his logic, and in all honesty, the way he's talking is so abrasive, so raw, that it's got you feeling all hot and bothered again. He may as well be stroking your pussy, not your knee, with the impact he's having on you.

His grip tightens, then pulls your knee back over. Commanding, not requesting. Your legs part for him, because of course they do. There's something about knowing he has options, knowing that he could be with someone else, but is choosing to be with you that gives you a little ego boost.

"Maybe I've changed my mind," you feign indifference, but Jungkook knows there's a handful of feelings beneath your words. "Maybe I don't wanna fuck you anymore."

He strokes his broad palm along the inside of your thigh. It's warm, wrapped in the sheer nylon cover of tights, and he'd obsessed with the way they feel. So smooth, so soft, so perfectly pristine. He wonders if you're making a mess of them. Hopes you are.

"I don't like maybes," he says. "Either you wanna fuck me or you don't."

"I don't like fucking boys who fuck other girls."

"Who said I was fucking other girls?" he smirks, and lets his hand trail a little further up. He squeezes the flesh of your thigh, getting a feel for you.

"You did."

"No," he corrects. "I said I've fucked other girls. Past tense. Never said I'm currently fucking other girls. You really gotta stop making assumptions, little Miss Clutch Control."

"I hate you," you say with a smile, and you really do mean it.

"I like girls who hate me. Makes the sex so much hotter."

"Despise you."

"Ugh," he grins, as he lets his hand reach the top of your thigh. He squeezes again, and you hum a little moan for him. "Doesn't sound like you hate me."

You giggle, soft and serene in the safety of his car. Reaching a junction, he pulls his hand back to change gear. You're at a four-way intersection, the light only just hitting amber, so he reckons he has a least a couple of minutes to toy with you.

When his hand returns to your thigh, just like you hoped it would, it's beneath your skirt. Right at the top. Right where it belongs. The pressure beneath his palm is firm, fingers sinking into the softness of your leg.

"But I do," you say, voice quiet, anticipation lacing your breath.

His pinky finger stretches out a little, just to stoke over the mound that rests between your legs. He can already feel the heat, but what surprises him - and excites him - is the slick that's seeped through your panties and onto the outer side of your tights.

"Doesn't feel like you hate me, either."

"No?" You toy. "Feel again."

And so he does. He points his index and middle finger, and holds them flat against you. They're instantly met with a slippery mess. He slides them up and down, once, twice, three times, and then cups your pussy with his palm. You're fucking pulsing in his touch.

"See?" You speak as if you don't wanna whine his name. "Loathe you."

"So you do," he mumbles as he presses his palm tight against you, inhaling sharply as he does so. One glance at his lap and you can tell he's just as turned on as you are. His cock is solid beneath his trousers, jeans tight, keeping him concealed. Part of you feels a little bad. Looks painful. He's too big to be confined by such unforgiving material.

"Still wanna skip the sex?"

Jungkook presses in index finger against where he can feel your entrance is. You're so wet that his fingers are already coated in everything that you are. He wants more. Wants your tights gone. Wants his fingers inside you.

But he's a stubborn asshole, and hates being proven wrong.

"Sex?" he pulls his fingers back, and rests the heel of his palm on the top of his steering wheel. They're covered in your juices. He considers licking them clean, but figures that might be a bit too brash - and then thinks fuck it, and does it anyway. There's a sweetness to your taste, one that has him holding back a moan. Absolutely fucking divine. You don't even realise that you're staring at his hands - the way they sink into his mouth - until he pulls them back out. He looks at you. Shrugs. "Yeah. Not really in the mood."

"Thank god," you say, not skipping a beat. Even when your need to fuck him is so intense that it manifests into a physical form and leaks onto his passenger seat, you're still able to bicker with him. It satisfies him like nothing else. Makes his cock so hard. "Me either."

The light turns to green, his hand is back on his gear stick. You stick to looking out the window, not favouring looking at him. The temptation to palm his crotch is overwhelming, but you're just as stubborn as he is. If you've said you don't wanna fuck, then you're damn well gonna act like you don't wanna fuck, until you simply can't take it anymore.

"Glad we agree," he says. "So let's talk."

You half wonder if this was his plan all along. You actually do think you hate him - but only cause he makes you feel weak. You don't enjoy that feeling, but you enjoy him.

"I'm an open book," you lie.

He flicks his eyes to the rearview and mutters under his breath, "shit."

"What is it?" you glance over your shoulder, noticing a pair of headlights flashing Jungkook. You can't make the car out. Its lamps are on full-beam. Blinding.

Jungkook leans over, the fingers that had been stroking against your pussy now pressing down into your buckle. There's a click as it releases, before he moves down and pulls up on the lever by the front of your seat, dragging you forward.

"Get in the back," he says, as if he isn't still driving. You go to question him, but he cuts you off. "In the back. Now. Middle seat."

You stare for a second, until he glances over to you, jaw tense, with no hint of a smile. "Don't argue with me, now. Middle seat. C'mon."

"Kook-"

"Now."

And as unsafe as it feels, you find yourself twisting, hands gripping onto the back of the passenger seat as you bring your legs up to crouch.

"Quickly, babe," he says, his hand reaching over to tap your ass gently. Your back is to the windshield, and Jungkook's terrified that the fucker behind him isn't gonna wait for a respectable start - but he's also anxiously aware of the fact he isn't explaining himself to you, and that it's gonna make you hesitant. "Please. Trust me."

And so you do. You wobble a little as your leg dips over the centre console, his hand still on your ass to keep you stable.

"That's it," he encourages. You make your way into the back, a little squeal as you leap soundtracking the move. "Seat belt. Now."

The leather of the backseat is cold against your tight-covered thighs, legs pressed together, feet firmly on the raised centre of the footwell. You do as you're told, all rather quickly.

"Hands on the seats," he tells you again, and you don't question it, even though it's all that you want to do. There's a time and a place for bickering with him, and while it's the perfect place, the urgency of his commands suggest that now isn't the right time. You grip onto the seats in front of you, and Jungkook reaches up to feel your hand, just to make sure it's where he wants it. His hand is clammy and warm, safe against yours. He lingers for a second, not wanting to lose the way your feel against his skin. "Hold tight."

He slows to a near stop, and you almost laugh when you realise where you are. That fucking bridge, again. The car behind you pulls up beside him, but it's hard to make it out through his back windows. They're so intensely tinted that all you can figure out is the rough shape. "Is that-"

"Yep," he cuts you off, knowing what you'll ask. "Car from the last time. It's cool. I got this. I will warn you, though, he's a little pissed with me at the moment."

"A little?"

You can hear the engine revving. Sounds more than just a little pissed.

"We're friends. It's okay."

Friends is a loose description. It would have been the right term, once. Jungkook thinks of him more as a colleague these days. A pain in his ass.

"Doesn't sound very friendly."

"I'ma need you to be quiet, babe," he says, voice soft. He isn't trying to be rude, he just needs to concentrate. Needs to win this. Needs to get Namjoon off his back. Needs to get you away from, well, here.

"Noted."

Jungkook watches the lights. It's how races like these work; the impromptu kind that first got him acquainted with Namjoon. They wait for the lights to shift, throttle teasing on amber, rubber-burning on green.

His gaze is on the lights and the lights only. The leather binding of his wheel almost squeaks as he grips against it, shoulders rolling back ever so slightly. Glancing over to the black SsangYong, he nods, and then his eyes are back on the lights. The lack of a flagger has never bothered them. In fact, Jungkook prefers racing without one. Fewer variables. Less chance of things going wrong. He knows the time of the lights. Trusts them. Trusts his muscle memory to do the hard work for him.

You can feel that chime in your stomach again - but it's different this time. It's a warning bell. The kind that tells you to get out of the situation you're in. Fat fucking chance.

There's a purr as the lights flicker into amber, Jungkook's rev count building. The sound of the SsangYong rips through the windows, letting you know just how powerful it is. Ain't no way Jungkook's fucking Pony is beating it. His grip adjusts, foot sinking further down onto his throttle. He builds it, 2, 3, 4 - and then the light is green.

The way Jungkook moves is as if he's at one with his car.

His movements are slick, well-oiled.

There's no hesitation, just an innate understanding of what needs to be done. His car tears from the starting line, and you forget all about the SsangYong he's racing.

It's hard to think about anything at all, in all honesty. Hard to comprehend the speed he's built so quickly; the control he has. There's a rush pulsing through you that you haven't felt since, well, ever. You don't enjoy racing, not really. You hate it whenever Yoongi rags his car about, but you trust him.

And you find yourself trusting Jungkook, too.

Maybe it's because you've already seen him tame his car when it's been out of control, or maybe it's because you've already trusted him with your body, so what difference does your life make?

His tyres are almost silent, moving at such a pace that there's no chance for anything to reverb. He grunts a little, pushing the car up to fifth, building, building and then -

"Corner," he braces you.

You're pretty certain you're going to throw up.

It's a route that Jungkook knows well, just a short circuit, over the bridge, sharp left out along the riverside road until they reach Kang's. Same every time. Hasn't yet thought about what he's gonna do when he gets there. Just knows he has to get there first to buy himself a little time.

He knocks the car into neutral, clutch down, brakes too, and then he's turning the wheel just a little. Not too sharp. Doesn't wanna oversteer. He coasts it round the bend, knowing better than to be in neutral, but he isn't thinking about that right now. He's thinking about the fact that Namjoon's car is fucking faster, and he needs every gain he can get.

Your hands grip into the padding of his seats, desperately trying to stop yourself from toppling over. Elbows locked, it's hard to determine the sheer amount of force you're putting behind your bones.

There's a screech as the tyres burn against the road, no doubt leaving thick black streaks on the tarmac. You're so used to seeing them on your way to work that you never really consider how they get there. Now you know.

He pummels the car forward, knocking it back into third, and then up into fourth. It's a miscalculation. Should have jumped right up into fifth - but he can lament that later.

He corrects his mistake. Strikes it into fifth. Namjoon is trailing. Jungkook has got this.

Eyes hard against the horizon line, Jungkook has no time to think. He flicks his eyes up to the rearview, catching sight of the SsangYong's bonnet. He's miles ahead.

Well, no. Not even a metre - but it may as well be miles. He just needs to keep up this pace.

Foot to the floor, he's tanking it. The shops you dart past become a blur of neon lights, nothing for your eyes to absorb other than the chaos of light beneath a dark sky. In the distance, you see Kang's.

"Shit," he hisses as the light at the intersection ahead begins to flash amber.

"Hold on," he says, as if you've even thought about letting go. Hands clammy from nerves, you adjust your grip. Tighter. So tight, your nails will leave prints in his leather.

He pushes further, further, further, but the lights are flashing quicker, quicker, quicker. "C'mon, beauty. C'mon."

He hits the junction line.

The lights are still amber.

And then he switches from gas to clutch. Easy does it.

Jungkook pulls the handbrake up. Clicks it into place. Pulls the car round with a single hand on his steering wheel.

He has full control over the vehicle as it roars into position right in the middle of the cross-section.

There's a blaring horn sounding behind you - but it's not directed at the Pony.

It's directed at the SsangYong, which has screeched to a halt. The oncoming traffic has been set free, lights fully changed. Jungkook made it just in time.

"He's stuck," you tell Jungkook, head over your shoulder, making sure that the SsangYong hasn't moved. "Can't get past the traffic. You're good."

You expect Jungkook to ease off the throttle, but he doesn't. He takes a sharp right instead, and begins to tunnel down back allies. Right, then left. Then left again, and another right. Takes so many rogue turns that you don't even know which direction you're facing in by the time he comes to a stop. It's been nearly five minutes since you lost the SsangYong - and yet he just won't ease off the gas. Not until he's certain Namjoon isn't lurking in the shadows of his exhaust fumes.

By the time he does eventually stop, his chest is heaving. Breathless.

You're down a back alley, across the other side of town. You don't recognise it.

Pressing down into the buckle, you undo your belt and clamber forward into the passenger seat again, feet up, body facing towards him.

He doesn't look at you for a while. Just stares ahead. Inhale, exhale. You can see his jugular vein beating.

"Hey," you reach out to his wrist, and stroke on his arm gently. He doesn't respond instantly. Just lets his eyes close. It's nice, the way you're so gentle with him, he thinks. So nice. So soothing.

And then his body acts before his mind does. He pulls on your wrist, grip firm, as his other hand pushes down the lever by the front of his seat. Weight on his feet, he pushes himself back, making space for you in his lap.

The way you clamber over the centre console is less than elegant, but he doesn't care. Just needs you on his thighs. Needs to suffocate in the scent of your gasoline tainted hair, and taste the sweetness of your tongue in his mouth. Needs to remember everything that you are, so he can forget who he is.

His hungry lips find yours, a hand in your hair, the other on your cheek.

There's really not enough room, your legs straddled over his, trapped by the door on one side, the gear stick on the other. It's tight and claustrophobic, but he likes it. Likes how ensnared he is by you. Wants to be even more trapped.

He licks against your lips and begs for permission to enter - as if you'd ever refuse. His tongue strokes against yours, the studs you'd (somehow) forgotten about making you whimper. He's rough and aggressive with his kisses, the adrenaline manifesting itself in the form of intimacy.

"I lied," he says breathlessly. "About the sex. I want it. Let me fuck you."

He wants to lose himself in you. Needs to.

"Backseat?" you moan into his lips as he begins to encourage the movement of your hips against his painfully hard crotch.

"Backseat."

minors dni // posted to wp late 2021 // series masterlist

[wyvernest]

Miguel vs very angry reader? Miguel is usually the one who is grumpy and broody but for a change has to deal with his usually cheery lover being unbelievably Moody and angry!

lo siento, mi alma

pairing: miguel o'hara x spiderwoman!reader

warnings: angst, comfort, fluff, happy ending, miguel kinda being a dick

summary: coming to miguel for comfort leads to a fight, his duty coming right between you

Usually, you would feel so happy and excited about visiting Miguel at HQ. You'd find yourself smiling so stupidly on the way there, surprised with your reflection in a nearby skyscraper, instantly reminded that you're so in love with him. 

But today wasn't one of those days.

Today, your monthly hormonal storm has decided to mess with your mood and patience in a way you weren't looking forward to. Usually, you'd feel more clingy and emotional, yearning to be close to your boyfriend, to be held by him, to cry in his arms because you were out of your favourite snacks. 

But then again, today remains odd among the usual habits.

Today, you felt anger boil in your throat, ready to burst at the slightest inconvenience. And plenty have already tested it. Miles scared the crap out of you by swinging an inch from hitting you, right before scurrying away with an echoed "Hello!" that rang so stridently in your ears. Peter also intercepted your wish-to-be-hidden trip to HQ, unsolicitedly informing you about the last thing Mayday ate, how cute she looked, and how she's been learning to use her webs with more agility. You held back your bubbling nerves, deep down knowing he only meant well.

Finally inside Miguel's extensive laboratories, you look up to spot the platform he usually inhabited empty. 

Great. Fucking hell.

And because expecting something good to happen and then having it snatched from you like a chocolate from a toddler makes you unfathomably angry, you feel hot tears sting your eyes.

You had wanted the comfort of his embrace so bad. It was the only thing that could've soothed your mood. So you found a flat surface to sit on and wait, probably one of the many machines and equipment he spent his whole time creating and testing instead of giving you the attention and love you craved so much, you thought.

It wasn't long before a long, sharp, red blade cut through the fabric of space, followed by the familiar silhouette of your beloved boyfriend. His mask dissolved away, revealing a terribly tired face, hair messed up and cheekbone slightly mauve with a forming bruise. 

He sensed you in the room, not bothering to offer you anything more than a turn of his head in your direction to meet your eyes before sprinting to his platform. Layla also glitched into the room, relaxed as usual. 

You squint, making out "canon divergence RESOLVED" on one of his screens, some hope blooming in your heart at the thought that maybe now he'd have time for you. But before you can inhale to speak, he opens up another portal.

You can't believe it. He didn't even speak to you, like you aren't his heart and soul, as he had told you so many times. 

So you snap.

"Miguel!" You shout, quick and harsh, wanting him to feel a fraction of the frustration that's gutting you right now.

He doesn't flinch.

"I'm busy. Wait for me at home." He speaks with authority and the confidence of a man who knows it wouldn't take much to make you listen to him.

You feel your pulse quicken, heart stuttering with anger and bewilderment.

"That's how much my emotions matter to you?" You shout up to him after a second of weighing his words. "That's the support and consideration I get?" Your voice cracks and you hate that he now knows how affected you are.

"I'm not even a fucking priority at this point. I'm at the bottom of the list."

"I can't deal with this right now. I still have the damage the last anomaly has done to deal with." He raises his voice at you, the words vibrating through the laboratory.

"So I'm on hold until Miguel O'Hara is fucking available? Will you also notify me so that I can present myself back to HQ, sir?" Your tone is dripping venom, sarcasm and sour tears threatening to burst into streams down your cheeks. You do, consider, in the back of your mind, that you're exaggerating. But the way he dismissed you is not an easy thing to get over. No greetings, no emotion, no nothing.

Just "I'm busy.".

No excitement to see you after a mission.

How are you any different than any other spider-person bothering him then? Where is the love he has for you when he's working?

He grinds his jaws together, not wanting to say something he doesn't mean, that he'll regret later. He knows you're particularly sensitive today, but he can't allow himself to soften right in the middle of a job. It's not how he works. He gets distracted.

"I said go home, cariño." He doesn't even face you as he speaks, as if you're a child throwing a tantrum.

You feel small. Irrelevant. He isn't even touched.

"Oh I will." You yell through a sob, your pain arrowing right through his chest.

"Only not to your home." 

You storm out without looking behind. Your ego soared and anger kept rising to your senses. 

You knew you wouldn't break up, or even move out. You just wanted him to feel something. 

You wanted to see him want you. To see him make the slightest gesture towards wanting to keep you by his side.

But the doors closed shut behind you, and you found yourself walking slower, just to give him some time to run after you.

He didn't.

You did your best to hide your teary eyes and runny nose, not wanting to deal with any unwanted attention, any questions, anyone knowing that you and Miguel just had a fight.

You didn't want anyone else's attention but his, and it killed you to acknowledge that.

You got home, finally breaking into tears. You let yourself fall face down into his pillow, still seeking the comfort he never gave you. The smell of him, the imagined, simulated warmth of his embrace.

He had a duty, you know he did. You just wanted to be more than a chore to him. You wondered if this relationship really was for you, head spiralling into the hormones, stress, and wrath. 

You, a needy, extremely loving girlfriend, with a man like him, with a full time job that entire universes depended on. You loved him, you really did. But you loved yourself too. 

The train of thought drifted towards sympathy as the flames of rage ran cold within you. Maybe you were too hard on him. Maybe he really did have urgent things to tend to, and was just trying to keep cool. He hasn't always been the best at showing emotions. 

You whine softly into the pillow, the scent of him flooding your already fluttering heart.

You don't know how much time has passed. You felt your tears dry on your cheeks and your eyes puffy. A creak of the bedroom door makes your heart beat right out of your chest, yet you attempt to stay calm. Heavy footsteps near you, before you see his shadow engulf your shape on the white mattress. 

He hesitates, looking at your quivering body, knowing he should haven't arrived earlier.

If only he could.

Your brows shoot up in surprise at the sight of a bouquet of roses he places on the bed next to you, but you don't get to think of what to say as he kneels at the edge, encircling your waist in his arms, placing his head on your shoulder, close to your own.

"Lo siento mucho, mi alma. Forgive me."

You snivel, humming a fragment of his name. He shuffles closer, seeing no retreat from you. He brings his lips to your stained cheeks, pecking over the salty traces. 

You instinctively shift into his warm embrace, chasing the comfort and touch you had wanted all day. 

"I'm sorry," you begin, "I shouldn't have-"

"Shh, no need" he stops you, pressing a sweet kiss shy of your lips. "No need, mi vida."

His arms tighten their hold around you as he pulls you to his chest. You grab at his biceps, pulling him on the bed. 

"The roses-" He whispers, hurriedly.

"Miguel!" You whine, entrapping his waist with your legs. He complies without another word; suit on, flowers still on the white sheets. With his massive body wrapped around you, finally content, you drift into a sweet slumber.

"Lo siento."

His voice rings low and quiet in your ears as you fall asleep, head on his chest.

translations: Lo siento mucho, mi alma - I'm terribly sorry, (my soul)

a/n: before yall beat my ass for the angst this is the best depiction of miguel x reader x anger issues from both that came to my mind, really hope you like it😭