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[procrastinating-story-writer]

Adorable

Bangtan core ✨

[procrastinating-story-writer]

strawberry kisses 🍓⊹｡ෆ | JJK (18+)

♡chapters: one / two / three / four / drabble♡

​⊹🍓series ❤︎ ˚ ༘ ⋆

❥pairing: badboy!jungkook X virgin!reader // black!reader

❥genre: acquaint. to lovers AU, university AU, angst, drama, smut

❥summary: Jungkook is notoriously known as a f^ckboy who doesn’t eat p^ssy, until he finally gets alone with you…

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❥!!warnings!!: very descriptive virgin talk, reader is a ‘pure’ virgin [hymen], ‘virginity’, ‘v-card’, being scared about sex, eventual slight yandere jungkook, allusions to unsafe decisions and past toxic relationships [PLEASE ADHERE❣️]

❥other warnings: oral fem receiving, fingering, heavy petting, exhibitionism, sex sex sex on reader’s mind 24/7, plotting, princess nickname, fuckboy AND badboy jungkook⭐️, stoner jungkook, weed, alcohol, jungkook’s an undercover munch okay, and some shit he says and thinks is very vulgar, light choking, brown coochie desc [cause yeah tee hee], ‘strawberry’ used a lot, first time experiences, grunge/2000s vibe for their appearances and setting, grunge hottie with a y2k babe🎀

❥word count: 10.8k

-inspo: gif from btsjkgifs on tweet

-jungkook’s weed playlist: so high- dc | party girls- jeremih ft ludacris remix | into it, swim- chase atlantic | in for it remix

-author’s note: I finally got an actual virgin fic started cause I feel like phony virgins or determined virgins don’t get much show time in fics. Usually they’re shy and innocent, but I wanted insert to be that AND very set on what she wanted. I think it’s more realistic this way with how I wanted Jungkook’s character to compliment hers. Plus, I already did a corruption style type for Angel.

I hope you enjoy this and look forward to the next part! I can’t wait to finish 💗

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Jungkook was not the best influence on you.

In just a few months, you skipped more classes than you ever had in your academic life, started going to parties, dabbled in a harmless drug, and got stuck with a needle and ink for your first tattoo that signified this phase.

The stick-n-poke Jungkook did on your thigh wasn’t going to last forever—just as you suspected the friendship. It was lined perfectly though, as he was secretly artistic and a perfectionist.

It felt intimate, since you’d done one on him as well. A spider with a jagged abdomen and seven legs was hidden amongst his growing tattoo sleeve... He didn’t get it. Why you chose a sneaky arachnid as the symbol you saw fit for him, you mean. But he laughed and taunted you about your childish drawing skills, admiring your focused face as you carefully poked across his skin that night by the lake.

In your mind, Jungkook was the spider in your tame and boring life when the friendship started. Dangerous and cunning. You, the curious butterfly—like the ink on your thigh—that got too close to his web. All the hang outs and late nights were him spinning you in silk, around and around until he finally had you stuck and unmoving. He wouldn’t strike unless you moved first to get away.

Then he’d take what he wanted.

And you’d let him.

🍓⊹｡ෆ————————————————————————୨♥︎୧

The sexual tension between you and Jeon Jungkook was too high to ignore it.

But what did anyone expect to come from a blossoming friendship between a ran-through fuckboy with an attitude problem and a phony virgin.

There were lots of lingering touches and kisses and heavy petting to the point that was all you could think about instead of college work. You were more worried about having Jungkook balls-deep inside you rather than your next exam, experimenting on smoking weed or hitting his vape pen with him until morning.

Despite how fucked up he is, he’d been hooked on your mind since the day you met him. He was the one in all black with the tattoo sleeve, the piercings on his face, and a dark gaze that told you he wanted to do really bad shit to you.

Yeah. That guy.

Notorious badboy who lives faithfully by an “I don’t eat pussy” motto that doesn’t deter him from fucking anyone because he’s just that damn delicious to look at. He likes to get his dick wet with no strings attached and no promised special treatment in return.

Maybe it’s a bit misogynistic that he’ll gladly receive head and won’t give it, but he started lining up too specifically with your sexual desires, so you stayed around.

See, Jungkook keeps to himself. He’s a hit-it-and-quit-it, but his hookups are only known because they brag about how big and good of a fuck he is. Surely, he’d just give you the dick and leave. He wouldn’t boast about gaining another body nor would he name drop. Your not-so-innocent deed would remain a secret.

You’ve kissed quite a few guys up until junior year, some nerds that weren’t too shy to stick their tongue down your throat in the back of the campus library, but no one’s gotten far. Hell, Jungkook hasn’t gotten that far himself. Fondling you through your bra is nothing compared to the many girls he’s banged into oblivion.

Nonetheless, the asshole respects your boundaries. He can get real sex whenever he wants. You’re just a fun filler in-between his other hookups, a girl playing hard to get. He enjoys kissing on the cute, shy babe he sits next to in a math class he barely attends. Gets a thrill out of calling you princess to tease you, because he doesn’t know your real name.

What Jungkook also didn’t know was that you were undeniably on the same wavelength as him. Just in a sugarcoated format. You liked to play. You liked to kiss and touch and feel up on another body… But you were still the doe-like glint in your eyes that your makeup couldn’t shield, the timidness in your step that the cuff of your ass in your mini skirts and your cleavage couldn’t distract.

A virgin. With a very real v-card.

And okay, you get it. Jungkook has got to be the worst option to take it. Even now as you gaze at him he’s wickedly attractive, sporting a vintage band tee and a studded belt because his waist is too slutty to hold up his cargo jeans. His hair has grown into a mullet that fits his wild lifestyle and his sculpted face, curling around his neck where faded hickeys someone else has done stain his honey skin.

He’s a walking red flag.

But you can make your own rash decisions.

Jungkook gets to be so fucking easy and the epitome of a typical fuckboy. Why couldn’t you let this one thing happen for once and for all?

He’d do this quickly, too. Take you hard and fast when you tell him you want it. You’ve heard he fucks like a rabbit, so it’d go smoothly. No questions. Only two bodies bumping against each other to get their fill. Well, you wouldn’t know what the fuck you were doing, but he should be too selfishly horny to notice...

“Princess.”

His voice alone brings a plethora of goosebumps to your skin. You blink out of your dangerous state of mind as he blurs back into view.

“Hm?” You respond.

Jungkook smugly grins, dimples popping in his cheeks as his tongue teases the hoop in his bottom lip. He’d been fixated on you as you spaced out. You hadn’t answered his question for a full minute.

So he repeats himself. “I asked why you were soaking wet when I haven’t done anything to you…?”

“O-Oh.” You realize his hand is indeed up your skirt, the other pressing your hips to the door of your dorm room. You can’t remember the walk here or all the flirting done at the frat party to lead up to this. Clearly, you aren’t as calm as you told yourself you would be when Jungkook brought you to your demise.

It doesn’t help how odd and out of place he looks inside your hyper feminine dorm room either—pink decor, Sanrio plushies, and your strawberry perfume permeating the air in a thick cloud. He’s the only dark theme in your room, intruding the soft-core space with his mysterious aura and the smell of smokey cologne and weed.

There isn’t much talk about your girly decoration though, as Jungkook is eager to have you around his dick and invade your bedsheets with the scent of him. You’d been bold enough to finally take him to the women’s dorms you stayed in, sneaking him through the back door he knew all too well. Per university code, he was down to get fucked. You figured he’d understand what this meant you wanted from him…

Jungkook is rough as he presses his body closer, the passionate wetness of his tongue on your neck and the grip on your hips is nothing you’ve experienced before. You like that he’s not going slow, but the raw, carnal desire is terrifying.

Especially when you feel what he’s working with in his cargos. It grows heavier as his hands travel around your waist to underneath your skirt, grabbing handfuls of your ass and teasing the little thong you decided to slip on earlier. He goes as far as rubbing you right where his experienced fingers know your entrance would be, and, fuck, it feels so much different with having someone else in control of your pleasure.

You feel your panties getting stickier than ever at the mere fact that he’s warming you up for the inevitable. How quickly drenched he’s made you and the noise that escapes when he finds a sensitive spot on your skin. You moan his name, gripping his hand to get a sense of reality.

The fuckboy groans back, stopping to look at you. You can’t believe you’ve chosen death himself over the sweet, kind guy who’s been trying to get with you all month. Brandon would have been all lovey about this… but Jungkook is going to murder you. Specifically, your insides.

He knows it, too, with how he smirks at your flustered expression and panting lips. It makes you nervous that you’ve gotten this far, and you’re back to your shy, timid self when you think about what’s to come next. You’re so close to flaking and leaving him with a hard on once again, but you want this.

So you take it upon yourself to kiss him. It’s barely a peck, and you end up brushing his silver hoop piercing more than his rosey lips. His tongue flicks out to lick the residue of strawberry gloss you left on the corner of his mouth, and Jungkook becomes lost in the flavor of you.

He tilts your chin up and kisses you back.

It’s not gentle or polite like the one you gave him. His tongue demands dominance as soon as your lips touch, his muscle smoothing over the flesh of yours which has you thinking of badder things than tongue kissing. It’s sloppy and urges your hands all over each other, your hips flush together, Jungkook’s legs hitting the edge of your bed, and you nearly falling on top of him.

The way your hips begin grinding on him is so alluring... You’re such an enigma to him right now—as if you weren’t already—that he’s determined to use this opportunity to finally have what’s between your legs.

You become a bit more aggressive since you’re trying to keep up with Jungkook’s tempo and not get him bored, but you can’t help but feel anxious when he cups your chest, breaking the kiss to ogle the cleavage of your lace bra underneath your top. You go to move away, but he yanks you back down on his lap.

“Are you getting all shy on me again?” He whispers. “It’s nothing I’ve never seen before, princess.”

True… but you’ve never been naked in front of anyone else. Your fairy lights aren’t dim enough, and you didn’t think it’d be taking this long to get pounded. This is too intimate.

However, Jungkook is quick to divert your attention by rolling over on top of you. Your skirt rides up with the movement, and he gets a glimpse of delicate, pink panties decorated with a tiny bow. That hug your pussy like a present ready to be unwrapped. They correlate with your bra, too, and Jungkook heavily believes in matching sets gracing him with the best pussy he’s ever had. You’re so done for.

Jungkook admiring how the baby pink contrasts beautifully against your brown skin forces your legs shut in fear. You had worn the lingerie for him, but you didn’t expect staring. Where is his urgency to put his dick in you?

Apparently, nowhere to be found as he follows you further back on your bed, eyes curious and enticing, sizing you up. He hovers over you when your pillows and plushies make it impossible to go further, the skull pendant on the silver chain around his neck dangling in your face.

You clearly want this, otherwise you wouldn’t have said what you said at the party or sent those texts all last night. You’re just too shy to go for what you want, and Jungkook finds it adorable. He chuckles at how skittish and scared you’re being, trying to calm your nerves with some humor.

“What are you, a virgin?” He asks.

It’s a joke. At first. Until you bite down on your tongue and avoid his eyes for a second, unable to maintain your faux confidence any longer.

Jungkook freezes.

Shit.

“No way…” he mumbles, looking at how sexy you are laid out underneath him. It seemed he was contemplating on dipping or not giving an ounce of a fuck that you had never done this before.

He’s suddenly conflicted on how you’ve gotten this far undetected. It makes sense when he reminisces about your bashful antics and you pushing him away before things get too far, but he thought of it as simply respecting that you have boundaries no matter the reason. He just never thought it was because you were… untouched.

Jungkook doesn’t do virgins as much as oral. It’s laughable to find out he’s been played along by a phony virgin the whole time.

“Were you trying to hide it from me?” He tsks, tilting his head down at you. “Cute.”

Your lips are shut together, as you don’t know how to answer, because, yes, you have been hiding your virginity from him. It’s not wrong… but maybe it isn’t so right to have him obliviously deflower you.

He doesn’t make a big deal out of it though, instead waiting on you to speak. So you don’t want to make a big deal out of it either, trying to brush it off.

“A-Are you still gonna…?”

“No, I’m not gonna fuck you,” Jungkook says as he leans in. Your chest hitches when his palm rests on your thigh.

“I’d rip you open, princess…” He mumbles softly, round nose nudging with yours. “You’d probably bleed all over my cock, fuck…”

Weirdly, you were not put off by that. He could tell by how your eyes practically sparkled that you were into it… His jeans feel tighter.

“Unless you want me to?”

You swallow. Unable to say it, but begging to be split in half in your head.

“Such a freak,” Jungkook murmurs. He’s heard quiet girls were the freakiest, but, damn, you were taking the cake.

The room grows quiet, and Jungkook moves as if he’s about to free you from his grasp, leave you high and dry like you’d done to him plenty before, but you’ve gotten too close to spend another night fantasizing about what he’d do to you if given the chance.

You grip his bulging forearm. “C-Can you kiss me?”

Making out has got to be so lackluster to him now, but he doesn’t hesitate to do as you ask. Fitting his mouth to yours is like second nature, the sweet oil of your gloss something he’d never say no to and how your bottom lip pricks between his teeth because he can’t help but to bite.

You mewl right into his lungs, hands roaming up tattooed skin to cradle his neck. His erection bumps against your thigh as he shifts to kiss down your throat again, and you realize that this isn’t actually going to stop when Jungkook starts sucking the tops of your breasts. When his lips meet your belly button, wavering over the sliver of skin between your skirt and cropped shirt.

Jungkook has been waiting as long as you to fuck each other. Is he really going to let your virginity be a deal breaker?

You smell like strawberries again tonight, followed by a hint of cocoa and marshmallow that has Jungkook wanting to stick his nose to every inch of your body and just breathe. You smell so fucking edible to the point that he wants his tongue running all over your melanated skin, too. He doesn’t notice that he’s kissing down your inner thigh until you gasp.

“What are you doing?” You ask nervously, blinking down at him.

He’s quiet for the moment he takes to stare up your skirt, at how your pretty, pink panties is nothing but a string of ruined fabric covering your swollen pussy now. You drip right through the lace and onto his fingers when he rubs you.

“Really wanna taste you,” Jungkook says, barely loud enough for you to hear over the thumping in your chest.

Your throat is too dry to say anything when his eyes flick to yours. He grips your knee to push your legs further apart, getting on his to sit up and lean over you again.

You don’t expect his hand to fall to your neck, thumb brushing your lips as his other palm squeezes your breast. You grab his wrist when he applies some pressure, thinking he’s going to choke you to death, but he just smirks at your doe-eyed expression.

“Princess… I trust that you’ll keep this pretty mouth shut.”

Oh. Right. He didn’t go down on his hookups. Or maybe he tells other girls this same thing, to keep hush about it.

At least all of your efforts wouldn’t be wasted. So you nod with his thumb on your tongue. “O-Okay.”

Jungkook hums at your compliance before reaching for your skirt and telling you to “lift up”. You do as he says and allow him to begin undressing you, your body shivering in anxiety when he throws your skirt on the floor and grips the band of your underwear next. You inhale a deep breath and lift up again, Jungkook’s eyes glazing over at the thick strings of wetness that have pooled in your panties as he drags them down your legs.

The fuckboy isn’t a stranger to getting his partners excited. He knows he has a face that can get anyone soaked. But this? He wouldn’t last for shit.

Jungkook likes it super wet and super tight. From all the women he’s fucked, not every girl feels the same. Virgins have been a big no-no in his sex life, but now he’s rethinking everything he’s ever stood for at a mere glimpse of how wet you are and how your hole looks like it can’t even take his fingers.

He’s about to put his mouth on you for fuck’s sake. This is exactly why he’s avoided your kind.

And you, in particular, are extremely dangerous. Playing as if you’ve had experience the whole time this has been going on, plotting this whole night out from suggesting meeting up at the party and coming back to your dorm. It doesn’t take much to notice that you’re completely hairless and smooth everywhere, too. Skin glowing like you took all morning prepping for a proper dick appointment.

Jungkook isn’t complaining. It’s hot that you dolled yourself all up for him in hopes of getting your v-card taken. Wanted to look like the princess he calls you when he takes you. Which you do.

Fuck, you look like the prettiest pillow princess ever as Jungkook lays on his stomach and yanks your hips closer to his face. You shyly glance up at your fairy lights, becoming embarrassed when he spreads your thighs wider and you can feel your pussy lay out for him. You don’t think you can muster eye contact during this, but you notice Jungkook’s eyes taking in your face and your princess parts without a care in the world.

There’s browns and flushed, dark pink hues that has him biting at his lip piercing in sweltering anticipation, and he’s so damn eager to put his mouth there that he doesn’t think twice about what he’s doing and goes with his instinct to lick. You squirm in response, catching a squeal in your throat at the foreign sensation. Jungkook, on the other hand, is already following up with another lick between your folds and then another…

You taste so sugary, and the way your juices are sticking to his tongue in webs makes him wish he’d eaten you out sooner. His blunt nails dig deeper into your thighs as he pushes his face closer so that his nose bumps with your clit. You begin whimpering, and it’s the perfect motivation to get you further.

Your cunt feels uncomfortably slick, but the tingling and tightening in your core that Jungkook is gracing onto you feels too good. You doubt that he’s never done this before; He’s eating you like it’s his craft. All while looking like—the devil.

His face is perfect for pussy eating, hell, face riding even. There’s no way no one else hasn’t witnessed his cheeks flushing, his furrowed eyebrows and rough tongue as if he’s angry as hell… The fluffy mess upon his head tickling your thighs.

You can’t bring yourself to touch it. You can’t believe someone’s pleasuring you and enjoying it. To keep yourself sane, you bury your face into your pillows and promise to not look down. Your moans are already as humiliating as you thought they would be, you can’t imagine your facial expressions.

But Jungkook finds your noises sweetly airy and sensual, desperate, but sexy. Your shaking legs and how you’re gripping the sheets, too, indicates that he’s treating you right. Gliding his tongue at a rhythmic pace, changing it up for a few seconds to nibble and swirl here and there. He doesn’t think he’s doing it correctly although you’re clenching like crazy.

Licking on pussy he hasn’t been in is so out of his character, but “you taste so fucking good” is all that passes through his swollen lips when he pulls away to catch his breath. You’re adorably hiding behind a Hello Kitty plushie, equally out of breath but able to hum at Jungkook’s compliment.

He doesn’t mind your shyness, which he’d expect from a virgin in the first place, but now he wants to see you lose it. Lose all your composure, rut against his face to get off. Cum. You’ve probably never had an orgasm before.

He proves himself right when he touches your slit with his fingers. You jump as if it’s foreign, too, and your cunt slicks up even more when he brushes your entrance. Jungkook’s rubbed you over your underwear a couple of times before, more so to tease, but it’s clear you haven’t had your own fingers down here to do real work.

So he wraps his lips around your puffy clit, sucking as he sticks his middle finger in your pussy to give you more pleasure… but then realizing he can’t go far or even curl his fingers how he wants because you tense up and—

“You still have a fucking hymen?”

Jungkook was partially kidding about popping your strawberry. He thought that was a traditional myth, or that nowadays many virgin women didn’t always have hymens for natural reasons. He figured you would just be a tight fit. Not that he’d have to actually break you in… To his luck, you keep surprising him.

“I-I’ve never done this before,” you mumble, pulling the Hello Kitty plushie down far enough for him to see your eyes. “I told you I was a…”

“Yeah, as in you haven’t had sex before,” Jungkook responds, tone nearing annoyed as he retracts his finger, careful to not tear you. “Not as in you’re some type of pure virgin bullshit.”

You sit up as he moves from in between your legs, your ears burning at how his lips are glistening from your mess. You hug your knees to your chest and use the plushie to cover yourself as he gets up from the bed.

There’s no way he’s leaving you.

“Jungkook—“

But he’s already made it out the door of your dorm, slamming it shut.

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Not that he contacted you much before, but Jungkook doesn’t message you for the next week. Not even to get high with him or go to the lake.

It’s a different type of silence between you both with knowing what happened, and you kind of expected it to go down like this after he got a piece of you anyways, to completely ignore you after getting what he could. It sucks that you didn’t get fucked how you imagined, or got to experience a first orgasm, though another experience to jot down in your diary was still a win.

It’s strangely made you confident that you’ve been half naked in front of another man, especially a seasoned fuckboy like Jungkook. If you can have him on your bed like that, then imagine how down bad you’d have your other option—Brandon.

Jungkook’s easy, but you know Brandon’s been trying to hit at you for a while. You could get him to fold with the snap of your fingers. He’s already so flirty and preoccupied with you as the umpteenth party of the semester goes on, him sticking to your side like a lovesick puppy and paying for your fruity cocktails with his daddy’s money.

You can’t be too stuck up on Jungkook when plenty of men have a dick, and, after all, your v-card can’t be much harder to get rid of. You wouldn’t give up a good time with Brandon.

He’s a popular senior with brown skin, dark hair, a bright smile, and gorgeous, hazel eyes. Very cute and lean since he plays varsity soccer. He’s not in a lot of mess with girls, but everyone knows he gets heavy play outside of the field.

Plus, Brandon is the son of some wealthy businessman. He doesn’t need to do much to pull any thirsty bitch, but you’ve been making him work for it. Other girls want to date and marry into his rich family; You just want his dick and maybe that roll of money he keeps unbundling for you.

Brandon can’t possibly suspect you’re a virgin with how you’re feeding into his teasing and teasing right back, knocking out drink after drink and giggling at everything he says. This is the longest you’ve engaged with him outside of class, so you hope you’re giving off that you’re interested in sleeping together, despite the shy and introverted persona you have.

The soccer player seems to understand your reciprocated desire though as he gets touchier and leans in to whisper how good you smell and how sexy you look—because, when has a mini skirt ever failed? But you catch the big, brown eyes of someone across the floor.

Staring.

Jungkook.

You look away first, as he has no shame in letting you know he’s watching you. While sitting between two girls that were practically on top of him.

Urgh. The nerve to glare at you when he’s been walking past you on campus without a word all week… Asshole.

“Did you want another drink?” Brandon asks, rubbing your arm at the sudden change in your facial expression. You like that he doesn’t meddle in who you might’ve seen and offers more poison.

“Yeah, sure,” you tell him. The alcohol has loosened you up quite a lot, but you can still remember the shit that has you pressing yourself to Brandon, so you down another, thankful that your mind gets fuzzier.

It only lasts for a few minutes before you’re reminiscing the other night, Jungkook’s hand on your throat, his tongue in your pussy, and what could’ve been if you weren’t a virgin. You want to say ‘fuck him’ out loud and forget about it and him in general. But you glance back over to where you’d noticed him to see he’s leaving the party. Alone.

Making quick eye contact with you through the crowd. It speaks for itself.

Fine… Let’s talk then.

You step back from the kitchen counter as you set your cup down. “I-I gotta go.”

Brandon chuckles, although he’s not happy about losing his piece of ass. “Want me to drive you back?”

“I drove,” you say, wielding your Sanrio charm decorated keys from your wrist wallet. “But thanks.”

“You can’t drink and drive,” he claims, and within the second of him pulling you back into him, he snatches your keychain. “I can get you back to your dorm, ________.”

“I can drive fine, not drunk,” you mumble. He’s right, you shouldn’t drink and drive, but you’re going to see someone who you trust more to be inebriated around. “Can you give me my keys?”

Brandon pockets them and shrugs. His nonchalant attitude shift is different than how he approaches you in class. “How about we go upstairs to chill before you go? You’re not sober enough to drive.”

“Then I can walk,” you exclaim. He’s pissing you off. Sure, you had a good amount of alcohol, but you’re highly functional, speaking without slurring. Tipsy, maybe, but not drunk. You can’t tell if he’s trying to protect you or be a jackass about you leaving so soon.

“I’ll give you your keys if you give me something in return.”

Okay. Jackass about you leaving so soon it is.

“What?”

“A goodbye kiss,” Brandon frowns, thick eyebrows furrowed. “You’ve been such a tease to me all night, thinking I’ve finally gotten through to you. I didn’t think you’d still be such a prissy good girl around me outside of Chemistry.”

You suck in a nervous breath, understanding how this might look to him. But still… doesn’t mean you owe him anything, and it sounds like he’s alluding to it. You wanted to have sex at first, but you can change your mind whenever you want, right? He’s acting as if you’ve ruined everything by not putting out.

“Or not want me to take you back,” he continues, wrapping his bulging arm around your shoulder as he takes a swig of alcohol. “You’re not as drunk, are you? Like you said? Let me drive you to your dorm.”

You can’t fathom the words coming out of his mouth so casually, and, suddenly, his sharp cologne is stinging your nose, his varsity jacket is heavy on your neck. He’s turned you all the way off, and you’d be pushing it to let him drop you at campus. What would he ask for then?

You wrench his arm away from you. Fuck the keys. A goodbye kiss because he spent his money on you? And can’t handle the idea of sexing up anyone else in here but you? What makes him so entitled.

Brandon calls out to you as you leave your keys behind and push through the crowd, wanting to explode on yourself for what happened and being blinded by something as unserious as your desire to lose your virginity. Brandon was sweet until he wasn’t, but you don’t know if you’re looking at green flags or red ones.

Maybe he was joking about the kiss and playing around? What if he was worried about your safety for real? Ack… Your mind didn’t feel right, but you know how you love to overthink.

Once outside the frat, a sigh visibly escapes your lips and fades into the cool, night air. There’s as many people here as in, but everyone is lit off their alcohol or whatever drugs being passed around to notice your frazzled state as you step down the porch stairs. You figure to head to your car and wait until Brandon eventually gives you your keys back, scared your little baby may get stolen. However, low and behold, parked right next to it in the makeshift parking lot of grass other college students have dumped their cars across, is none other than an iconic blue and white mustang.

Actually… you don’t mind waiting for your keys. Jungkook leaning there against the hood of his old school gem smoking is going to keep you occupied for a while.

You come to a stop in front of him, anxious, but he’d been the reason for you to leave in the first place. It’s not like you’re unwanted in his presence.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything at first, glances at you up and down in your revealing outfit while you check him out the same. He’s in a fitted black top and baggy, dark wash jeans held up by a belt that accentuates his lean yet muscular figure. A chain decorates his neck, and his fingers are shiny with steel rings as he removes the blunt from his mouth to blow the smoke.

He’s so menacing looking like the bad boy he is, curled hair styled to perfection. You’re too entranced by his handsomeness to notice his hand pulling you closer by the back of your thigh to pass you the blunt to hit.

You puff it for a second and exhale the weed in a sigh. It’s something about you being all dolled up in cute makeup, pink clothing, and your leg warmers that makes Jungkook’s lip quirk up at you engaging in illegal behavior with him. He takes another hit when you give it back, your strawberry flavored gloss sweet on his tongue as he lets the smoke fade into the darkness above before finally speaking.

“What’s with you talking to that guy?” He confronts. “Acting like I don’t give you enough attention…”

He wasn’t about to beat around the bush. No wonder he was death staring you.

“Is that what you brought me out here for?” You ask. “I didn’t say anything when those girls were all over you.”

Jungkook clicks his tongue, sharp jaw tightening. “I have girls all over me all the time, princess. Doesn’t mean I want their attention.”

As if on cue, he looks over at a group of girls clearly giggling and gushing about him a few cars over, despite you standing right there. You scowl as you turn back to him to see a smirk on his face.

“Or need it.”

“I didn’t need his attention either,” you feign innocence. What the hell is he trying to get at? So what if you were on Brandon.

“Didn’t look like it.” He sizes you up before catching your eyes again. “You dress like an attention whore, had your tits pressed against his arm the whole time… You wanted him to fuck you, yeah?”

“If I did?”

A beat of silence before Jungkook chuckles, yanking you between his legs by your hips this time to get nose to nose. “He can’t give you what you want.”

“Y-You don’t know what I want.”

“You want me.” He smiles with bunny teeth, and, god, he’s so fucking fine even though he’s so full of himself. “Right, princess? Don’t give me that pout.”

You step back and immediately fix your face before he reaches up to fix it for you. “Is this all you had to talk about?”

It’s his turn to pout at your pissy mood, but it doesn’t stop him from pushing on.

“I didn’t bring you over here for nothing, princess,” he says.

“Then what do you want?”

“To taste your pussy. I thought that part was obvious…” Jungkook nods back at his car, and your breath runs rapid.

No way he had enough room in there to have his head between your legs. Comfortably anyways.

He’s gotta be fucking with you? Eating you out, walking out on you, and ignoring you for a week to then come finish the job? What a joke.

“You’re insane.”

“A little.” Before you can walk too far away, he grips you by the wrist to pull you back. “Wanna hot box?”

“That’s an even dumber idea, Jungkook…”

“Not like it’s stopped you before.”

What’s his fucking issue? He’s acting like the night in your dorm room never happened and that he didn’t ghost you for days after finding out you were a virgin. As if this whole friendship or situationship wasn’t as unhinged already. Now he wants to ‘chill’ after seeing you cozied up with Brandon. Typical fuckboy!

Your choices in men weren’t great, but Jungkook has this special charm to him that bends you to his each and every will. If he wanted to smoke you high, your body was going to find a way to make it possible. Or his raven eyes are just that majestic to have you whispering “Fine…” in agreement, without weighing the consequences.

Next thing you know, Jungkook’s propped the passenger seat forward to let you and him slide into the back of his old school mustang. The back seat isn’t ideal for his height or yours since the roof is lower and a bit cramped, however, you don’t mind having to lie back and being pressed next to Jungkook’s warm body. Hot boxing with him was a cheat on therapy.

The tinted windows fog up ten-fold due to the chilly weather outside and the fumes filling up the vehicle. There’s music playing from the radio that hugs your skin just right, and you loll onto Jungkook’s shoulder as you allow yourself to buzz after the blunt’s gone. How he knew you could use this moment was beyond your comprehension, but motherfuckers like him always knew when to show up and keep bruising their marks before they disappear.

It’s much easier, in his case, when the butterfly on your thigh has yet to fade. He draws circles on the stick-n-poke he’d done on your skin months ago, thumb as soft as a feather. Fingertips lightly grazing the expanse of your smooth, brown legs over and over.

You suspect he’ll kiss you, make out, go as far as sucking on your throat to feed the oral fixation he gets when he’s faded and to fuel the stickiness you get in your panties at his touch. You can smell his cologne on his neck mixing in with the loud as he leans in closer.

“It pisses me off,” he starts, and the huskiness in his voice has your hairs standing on edge. “When you play in my face, princess.”

Your hooded eyes can barely push up a confused eyebrow. “What… What did I do?”

“Make stupid decisions,” Jungkook tsks. “Your little boyfriend doesn’t know?”

He was still stuck on that shit with Brandon? Men were so damn dramatic, hell.

“He’s not my boyfriend, neither are you,” you explain, annoyed. “You didn’t want to take it... What does it matter if I wanted him to?”

“Are you that stupid to have someone else’s tongue up your cunt?” Jungkook utters, finger coming up to coil a curl around it before making eye contact. “I licked it, so it’s mine.”

You giggle. The weed makes your laugh last longer, but it’s funny, genuinely. Staking claim over your coochie because he ate you out? Mr. I Don’t Eat Pussy pressing you about it is crazy. He has to be high out of his mind, but you entertain him back, feeling a little too bold from the kush and alcohol.

“Yours? When you didn’t even do much before running out?”

The car goes quiet except for the audio lowly bumping the speakers. You can’t believe you said what you’d been so pissed about. He surprisingly doesn’t get mad at you coming for his ego, instead, he laughs it off, tonguing his cheek hotly, dangerously.

“Did you wanna be a brat tonight?” Jungkook responds, hand tightening on your thigh. You didn’t know exactly what he meant by it, but you were not up to find out.

You bite your tongue and shake your head, scared out of your mind at what you’re positive crossed both of your consciences in that moment. Jungkook’s veiny hands adorned in those silver rings leaving your ass welted. You, a whimpering mess and regretful about opening your mouth.

“You sure?”

You nod. “Y-Yes...”

Jungkook finds you fucking adorable as you trail off and blank out. He isn’t used to girls thinking around him, so he can’t help but to stare, move a little closer to see if he can read your mind. Your pupils are big, filled with anticipation. Expecting more.

“Is that why you haven’t texted me?” He breaks the silence. “Cause I didn’t get you off?”

From your perspective, you hadn’t thought of it in that way. He didn’t text you, but neither did you text him. The lack of communication is on both parts, but he always hit you up first to hang. He can’t all of a sudden act as if it’s the other way around, like you’re the one dragging him along for the fun of it.

“It’s because you ran out on me in the middle of… doing it, what am I supposed to think?” You ask.

“Princess,” Jungkook makes a noise and throws his head back against the seat. “You’re so hard to understand.”

“W-What do you mean?” What was so hard to understand about wanting to get fucked into your mattress?

“I mean,” he begins, red eyes flicking to yours past his nose. “Have you even touched yourself? Came?”

You blink. “Came…?”

“Orgasmed,” the fuckboy smirks, cheek dimple popping. “When it feels too good and you just let go.”

The flesh of your cheeks warm as you imagine it, the stuff you’ve seen in porn and those times you’ve tried to get yourself there but embarrassingly failed.

“No… but I touch—I touch myself sometimes. I just… rub it. It hurts if…” You avoid his gaze, unable to say it aloud.

“Cause you don’t know what you’re doing,” Jungkook concludes. “You’re jumping ten steps ahead when you haven’t seen a real cock in person, princess. You don’t know what you like.”

Your dolly lashes blink up at him in guilt yet admiration. You have a serious lack of experience with sex, heavy petting being the furthest you’ve gone with Jungkook, and you come to realize that it isn’t smart or safe to be so willing to give up your virginity. You’re clueless enough for the university’s biggest fuckboy and the police’s worst nightmare to hang morality over your head. Jeon Jungkook. Trying to communicate about your nonexistent sex life instead of getting a quick nut.

Oh, god, why does he care? It makes you want to fuck him more instead.

“I get what you’re saying,” you tell him. “But… does it matter? To you, that I’m…”

“Yeah.” He’s back to playing in your hair again, body facing yours, head tilted to the side as he hums. He’s high, but still in control of his actions and words and… agh.

“W-Why?” You ask.

You feel like any other guy would be dying to be a girl’s first time. Jungkook’s restraint and adulation in this situation is so sexy, despite how disposable you’ve heard he treats women.

“Well, I just wanna fuck you,” he honestly admits. “You might not want that from me.”

Your chest pounds faster as he traces the curve of your neck, thumb grazing the tops of your chest and cleavage. No shocker there that he only desires sex from you, can’t keep his eyes off your body. But that’s what you want, too. A good time.

You boldly grab his hand to place it on your chest, and he immediately squeezes. Jungkook’s surprised by your action, and the peek of the lace bra underneath your top isn’t allowing him to think rationally.

You whisper, “What else do you think I want?”

His eyes roam over your body again, before he blinks back into reality and says, “A boyfriend. Commitment.”

“Because I’m a virgin…?”

He nods and reaches up to touch your face.

“Yes. I think girls like you get attached, princess.” He thumbs your bottom lip. “And crazy.”

He has to be wrong. You don’t think you will turn out like that. Not over sex. You care little about your virginity, and you aren’t the type to take it as extremely and give it to someone you vow your life to in marriage. You could have sex and move on like everyone else.

“I was your first, wasn’t I? When you tasted me..?Why can’t you be mine?”

The fuckboy finds your logic flawed. Oral versus intercourse wasn’t anywhere near the same. “That’s not how it works, princess.”

“Then show me how it works, Jungkook.”

Your determination has Jungkook’s dick hardening in his jeans. His sweet and soft princess is so set on what she wants that he doesn’t want to tell you no. Of course, finding out you were a virgin didn’t make you any less desirable to him. If anything, he wants to break you in half and take you for himself.

But, it’s not right. He’s an asshole and commits crimes here and there, but he’s not a bad person. And he doesn’t want to hurt you, whether that’s emotionally or physically. Virgins are stop signs to him for a number of reasons, some shit he’s dealt with as one himself. He just—doesn’t want to take advantage of you. He’s selfish and unavailable in too many ways he needs to be. You don’t deserve that.

It’s a good thing he’s as good as he is when it comes to women. He can give you what you want, all while still not giving you what you really want.

“Open your legs,” he demands, calmly and assertively. As expected, you freeze.

“B-But—“ you stutter, looking around at the tinted windows of the car. Jungkook knows his windows are pitch black, but he likes how nervous you get about possibly being seen exposed.

“Your legs, pretty,” he repeats, tugging on your thighs. “Spread them.”

You let out a breath and lessen your resistance as Jungkook maneuvers your legs over his thighs and coerces you to spread one, enough to let his palm flatten between them, a thumb pressing up against your cute underwear. The crotch is unsurprisingly damp.

“You’re so fucking easy, princess,” he taunts. “Are you sure you’re a virgin?”

“I-I am.” You don’t know if you’re stuttering because of him or how aroused you’re getting. Jungkook and weed is a terrible combination.

Jungkook greedily pushes his fingers down your panties when your mouths connect to feel all of it skin on skin, clit sticky and fuck, yeah, you are a virgin based on how tiny your hole still feels as he circles it.

It’s insane how internally possessive he grows to be reminded. Sex and pleasuring another leaves him satiated but not wanting more than just a quick fuck. With you, he can’t hit it and done. He can’t push your face into the backseat and cram his cock into you. He has to take his time, wants to give it to you right in every way he can.

Virgins aren’t his thing. Eating pussy isn’t his thing. Not when he’s only done it once… He’s just… experimenting. All while developing new, sick fantasies you’ve ingrained into him.

“Can I touch you?” He breaks the kiss to ask, like his digits aren’t already slipping through your folds.

Your ears burn at the faded yet needy look in his pupils. You think he wants to go further, and here you are again, ready to lose your virginity to the fuckiest fuckboy, despite the attitude he’s given the past week. What was wrong with you? And him?

Who knows… You gladly nod your head.

You slightly lift your hips to let him pull your pink panties down your knees, over your leg warmers and platform shoes. They’re discarded somewhere in the car, and you shriek as Jungkook repositions so that you’re more on top of him and your lower half is over his, pelvis angled to better expose your core. You thought P-in-V was next, but you’re not realizing how serious this is until he moves his fingers back down there. The pretty ones with the rings that look like they’ll break you.

“Y-You can’t, I’m…” Too tight. You were too embarrassed to finish your own sentence. However, Jungkook is already ahead. Stupid you to think you could take cock when one finger is about to make you a wreck.

“They’ll fit, princess,” he coos. “Relax.”

You try to do just that by letting your body mold into his, taking slow breaths, vibing with the music you can hear, trying not to be too in your head about what you’re doing. It’s weird at first when he brushes your clit again and starts rubbing it, but the sensation quickly brightens into pleasure. The little nub grows hotter with every circle, and your pussy aches for more.

You whimper a cuss word at your legs jerking and grip his tatted hand when a figure walks by the tinted windows. The party must’ve began dying down and people were leaving. And you’re here in the backseat of Jungkook’s mustang getting your clit beat, wishing he’d stuff you, because you can feel how badly the inside of your walls want to be full.

“Think you can take it?” He rasps in your ear. You nod and moan as he picks up the speed on your hood, using his other hand to fondle your breasts over your shirt.

Like any other woman, you wet yourself easily at Jungkook’s ministrations. By your heavy breathing and squirming, he can tell you’re dying to get a taste, that you want to cum on his fingers so hard. He kisses you more, rubbing and rubbing along your slit until your pussy is drenched on his fingers, and then does he take the opportunity to prod at your hole.

Your body freezes once you ingulf an influx of air, the foreign feeling uncomfortable yet tempting. You want it, despite the sting you have to endure before your core naturally submits and accommodates his ringed finger.

Your breath falters out of your chest as he pushes, and you dig your nails into Jungkook’s wrist. You feel hot, everything’s so hot, and your walls are clenching nonstop.

“I know, I know,” he comforts you, pierced lips whispering against the side of your neck when you throw your head back in ecstasy. “Let me in, pretty.”

“Ngh, fuck, oh my god,” you moan out, wrapping your arm around his neck to hold onto something. No way it feels this good, and you’ve been missing out all this time.

It’s Jungkook’s middle finger you’re clenching around and babbling over, close to ripping the curly tresses out of his scalp with how hard you’re tugging. A delicious sheen of sweat coats your neck as Jungkook drags his digit in and out slowly for you to experience the motion, and you look so sexy spread out on his lap taking it.

Another shadow flits by the car window, and your pussy immediately tightens in excitement. You start trying to rock against his hand to get him deeper, anxiously watching for outside but still enjoying yourself.

“Jungkook, f-faster,” you beg, reaching for his hand and pressing it more against you if possible.

He listens, adding more movement in his wrist, allowing his finger to slip further and quicker into your silky warmth. He’s as breathless as you when you whine out at the feel of his thumb stimulating your clit.

“Pretty little pussy suckin me in so good,” He mumbles against your skin, strawberry scent blessing his nostrils. “Fuck.”

Now he’s imagining you wrapped around his dick sucking him in just like this. Stretching you out until you’re full of him and crying about how it feels too much. So he uses his other hand to spread your pussy, ring finger sliding in next, obsessed with getting your sex to open up for him. He barely has to try. You’re so slick and relaxed and willing that you take the two fingers with little struggle.

“You’re so tight, princess,” Jungkook moans, barely able to move his fingers despite getting them inside. He figures he’ll hurt you if he tries to force further because of your hymen, so he’ll deal with what he can.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize in embarrassment, a bit uncomfortable too now with another finger since it feels bigger.

He guides you back into bliss, though, not allowing you to slip into that insecurity, and bends his head down to aim and spit on your folds like a professional. “Breathe for me, okay?”

“M-Mmkay,” you sob, because he was mental for having the nerve to spit like a freak and then talk to you as if he really cares about your pleasure and well-being.

He doesn’t press you to go any further, accepting that this may be as far as he can get you. Which is fine. You’re a virgin after all. He doesn’t expect you to hop on his dick, hot and ready. He’s much bigger than the two fingers your pussy can’t handle, not to brag. But it’s okay. Vagina was still vagina, and he knows exactly how to satisfyingly end this.

“Don’t think about it,” He whispers, his voice soothing you to unwind and let him take back control.

“Think… Think about what?” You breathe, voice hitching when Jungkook goes to rub your clit, keeping the other two fingers lodged in your tight wetness. He doesn’t answer you and instead slides his fingers deeper. Not thrusting. All of the motion is focusing on your swollen little button.

You don’t expect the buildup to hit you fast and so quickly. Lashes wet with tears, lip bitten raw from trying to keep noises down. But it rips through you without any remorse that you cry out loud.

Jungkook steadily abuses the nerves to get you there, holding you down to his body so you can’t run away from the climax. There’s fingernail indents reddening on his wrist when he slows down, and you gasp as you continue to cling onto him throughout your orgasm.

That was… crazier than you expected. You feel like you’re floating for a few seconds and have lost your mind. It’s as pleasant as people say.

“Good, princess.”

Jungkook is delighted that he pulled it off. Gave you your first orgasm awakening. He could’ve done better and so much more, but with how your chest is heaving, he would have made your heart explode. He’s happy with this for now.

“Aak!” You suddenly scream when you look down, but cover your mouth to not alert outsiders.

Jungkook leans up at attention. “What?”

“S-Sorry. I felt something… Inside. And it scared me,” you mumble. “Can you…?”

Your fingers gently touch the two still lodged inside your entrance. Oh.

“Yeah.” He slowly pulls them out, careful to not hurt you. And then does the final result of Jungkook’s finger fucking show.

A cloudy stream of cum flows from your pussy and forms a small pool on the crotch of Jungkook’s dark jeans near the zipper. He takes it upon himself to spread your lips for the full view, tiny cunt clenching around air.

“Of course you’re a creamer,” he notes, eyes fixated on the juices on his hand.

You pout. “Is that a bad thing…?”

“No.”

Although he enjoys when women squirt, it fits your entire persona and being that you cream. Some cheesy, aesthetic shit like chocolate covered strawberries and whipped cream is very fitting to the way you smell, dress, and look… Even during sex.

Shamelessly, he brings his fingers to his mouth to lick them.

You taste sweeter than last week. Or maybe it’s been too long to remember the exact way you did, so his tastebuds have forgotten. Either way, he wants your cunt in his mouth. Now.

The tension between you and him grows and grows as he leans in like he’s going to kiss you, and with those pillows wet from your essence, you’re begging him to ‘kiss me more, kiss me more’ in your head.

You can smell your scent on his breath when your lips brush, but your excitement is cut short.

Ruined by a beating on the window glass.

“JEON!”

You freeze.

Jungkook lets out an airy chuckle and hangs his head.

“Fucking hell…”

“JEON!” It sounds like a girl. And a mad one, since she bangs some more, her fist shadowing on the fogged window. “I KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE, YOU ASS!”

You frown. “Who is that?”

“Don’t say anything to her,” Jungkook responds, and slides you off his lap. “I don’t know where I threw your panties.”

The banging and yelling continues, and the doorknob is also yanked on. Your blood pressure rushes into defense mode when a nasty thought invades your brain, but you can’t ponder on it for too long. You’re clearly being rushed out of the car, and you’re half naked.

Jungkook looks down on the carpet for your missing undergarment, but something pink catches the corner of your eye. It’s your underwear. Up there on the dashboard.

More banging.

You don’t think you’ll get it on in time, this was already taking too long.

“Forget it,” you tell him, pulling your skirt down. “You want me to stay in the car, or what?”

“No, fuck,” he groans. He easily pushes the passenger seat forward and unlocks the door so he can get out.

The door flings open. All hell breaks loose.

“Oh? Now you open the door?!” The girl yells.

“Giselle,” you hear Jungkook say, and what sounds like scuffling. “Stop.”

“You got a bitch in there?!”

A bitch…?

Oh, god. You roll your eyes, nervousness catching in your throat. Was this his girlfriend? A hookup? You’d forgotten he was a fucking fuckboy. You should’ve expected this if you were going to be around him in public and in general.

What were you thinking? How much of a piece of ass do you look getting fingered in the back of his car at a party. And then to have some chick yelling at him about his endeavors.

You didn’t have time for this. You got your nut. It’s time to make like a man and bounce.

So you slip out of the car after obtaining your wrist wallet from the pocket behind the seat, expecting to make a quick getaway. However, Jungkook was guarding the passenger door and there’s a girl standing in front of him, fuming.

She’s a popular senior that you’ve passed by a few times on campus, two years above you and Jungkook. You never cared to know her real name, but you did know that she was too old to be red in the face over someone like your acquaintance. Unless… this was her man. But Jeon Jungkook didn’t date.

“Is this who’s getting your dick wet now?” She, Gigi, or Giselle, looks you up and down, flips her dark hair, and crosses her arms. “What a downgrade.”

You blink, honestly not fast enough and too confused to respond because you didn’t expect the insult.

“Cut it,” Jungkook firmly states.

“How about you cut your penis off and stop fucking everything you see?” Giselle steps in his face, and it kinda pisses you off that he lets her and just turns his head to tongue his cheek in annoyance. “What’s on your lips? Gloss? And that cum stain and your boner tells me all I need to know, did I interrupt?”

Ew. What a fucking bitch.

Your face scrunches up at her attitude and the way she’s talking to him. It’s degrading and weird. This can’t be his partner. Jungkook is never one to not voice what he has to say or be talked to any kind of way, so you assume her and him have history. But whatever history it is… It damn sure wasn’t healthy.

“J-Jungkook..?” You mumble, grabbing on his arm that’s blocking you to get him to move. Giselle’s eyes snap towards you, and Jungkook presses you back as she steps closer.

“And whoever you are,” Gigi points a French tipped fingernail at you. “Don’t let me catch you again, bitch.”

Was that a threat?

You know that she expects you to be quiet, too, to not retaliate. Probably because you are docile and sweet looking. And she thinks she can run anyone simply because she’s gorgeous and wears nice clothes and has a reputation to uphold. But you don’t do disrespect. Not over dick and balls.

So you step up to that fucking fingernail in your face, holding her eyes.

“Or what?”

She’s stunned. Eyes freezing at the fact that you opened your mouth to talk back.

You were shy, okay. But you weren’t a spineless bitch. Putting your pussy in Jungkook’s face was number one proof.

It’s quiet between the three of you for a second, just the sound of the breeze and university students laughing and talking as they exit the party. Inside Giselle’s head is loud with anger though.

“Princess, in the car.” Jungkook breaks the silence, coercing you to sit down in the passenger seat.

“You’re gonna let her talk to me like that? Really?” Giselle questions behind him. “Jeon. I’m talking to you.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you hear him say before he shuts the door. You listen in on their conversation as you let out a breath. “We’re not together. She has nothing to do with what we have going on anyways.”

“Fuck you, Jeon! Seriously!” You hear Giselle yell and watch as Jungkook’s figure crosses in front of the mustang. “You should know that I don’t take disrespect lightly. Not with any of the whores you talk to! Everyone knows that!”

Jungkook simply reacts by shaking his head and opens the driver side door, getting in and revving the car up. He glances over at you. “I’ll take you back to the dorms, okay?”

You take a little while to respond as he pulls off of the grass and through other cars. You were too shocked about whatever that was, upset about how she talked to him and her disgusting first impression on you. Sure, Jungkook wasn’t a saint, but she damn sure wasn’t one either. She was awful, and to be a popular figure at the university… You were glad you kept to yourself.

In other thoughts, Giselle had to have been Jungkook’s ex. Maybe they were on a break, and she was being celibate while he still fucked around. It made the most sense for her to be mad over. Then, he said they weren’t dating, so maybe not.

Sigh. You didn’t know. You didn’t want to know.

“Uhm…” you quietly speak up as he nears your dorm building. “Brandon has my car keys.”

“Why?” Jungkook asks.

“I don’t know, I think he was just playing,” you answer. “Sorry… I should’ve said something before you zoomed out of there.”

“No, it’s fine,” he says. “Get inside. I’ll get your keys and car for you by morning.”

“Jungkook—“

“I’ll get them.”

You close your mouth at his sharp tone, eyes fixating on his tattooed hand gripping the wheel. You hope he will get them smoothly. Too much chaotic shit already happened, and you didn’t want to be at fault for anything else.

“T-Thanks… Be nice about it, please?”

He chuckles, and you light up a little at his mood lightening, despite that altercation a few minutes ago. “You can talk your shit, but I can’t talk mine?”

Please. You were not going to go head-to-head with Giselle over dick. Only if it came down to her hitting you first... However, Jungkook’s a fighter, whether he’s hit first or not, so Brandon should think twice about playing with him.

“Still… be nice. Thanks.”

He nods. “Yeah.”

You awkwardly open the door and get out, grabbing a hold of your wrist wallet. Before you can close it, Jungkook stops you.

“Forgetting something, princess.”

You bend down to see him holding your pink panties out to you.

“Jungkook!” You snatch them, balling them up in your hand and looking around to make sure no one saw. Like you both were doing a drug deal.

“I can keep them up here as a souvenir, if you want.”

“N-No, bye.” You embarrassingly shake your head and close the door, biting your lip as you turn and enter the building. Jungkook’s mustang doesn’t noisily speed off until you swipe your identification card and the door clicks behind you.

You palm you warm cheeks as you ascend up the stairs to your floor.

What a night…

.⋆｡⋆༶⋆˙❀༺⋆｡⋆༶⋆˙ .⋆｡⋆༶⋆˙❀༺ ♥︎ ༶⋆˙ .⋆｡⋆༶⋆˙❀༺⋆｡⋆༶⋆˙ .⋆ .⋆༶⋆˙❀

🍓⊹｡ෆ

Your residential assistant brings you your car keys in the morning, saying that they were left on the office desk without a word but your name. You thank her, going to look out your window to see your car parked across the lot in reverse.

How nice of him.

You wonder how Brandon acted when Jungkook approached him for them. Tsk. Probably tucked his tail and gave them up right away. It secretly annoys you that you couldn’t get them back yourself, but hey, sometimes guys won’t listen until another one makes them. Sad to say.

You jump back into bed after doing your morning routine and pull up your chat with Jungkook. You should thank him. For getting your car keys and bringing your car. Not… for fingering you and giving you your first orgasm. That’s weird. And you shouldn’t pry into his situation with Giselle. That would be weird to ask about, too, when you and him are just acquaintances having fun.

Okay. Let’s forget anything else happened. Be normal.

you: hi. thx for dropping my car off

Send.

Except, it doesn’t. The message is green, and you’ve seen Jungkook’s iPhone that he rarely loses sight of.

What?

No way.

You huff, pretty loudly. Chin plopping down on My Melody’s plush head.

You send another message, a period. To act like you forgot to put it at the end. It’s green. And you’re not getting the option to send it as a text message.

You call, too, the call not going past the first ring.

You’re… blocked?

“Wow…” you mumble, not knowing how to describe your confused emotions…

.⋆｡⋆༶⋆˙❀༺⋆｡⋆༶⋆˙ .⋆｡⋆༶⋆˙❀༺⋆｡⋆༶⋆˙ .⋆｡⋆༶⋆˙❀༺⋆｡⋆༶⋆˙ .⋆ .⋆༶⋆˙❀

♥︎pixieknj 🎀⊹｡ෆ

feedback, asks, and requests are welcomed! read more here!

[procrastinating-story-writer]

daddy next door | masterlist

daddy dom!joel miller x f!reader

summary: it’s summer in texas, and when the dashing joel miller moves in next door, your less than favorable life gets completely turned around.

general warnings/tags: MDNI. 18+. foul language. alcohol consumption. no-outbreak!joel. neighbor!joel. non-canon joel. sarah exists. slow-ish burn. daddy kink. dom/sub dynamics. soft!dom joel. dd/lg dynamics (no infantilization of reader). submissive reader. sub space. implied heavy age gap (reader is in her 20s, joel is in his 50s). heavy smut. pet names. size kink. somewhat corruption/innocence kink (all consensual). domestic abuse & alcoholism (readers father). sexual harassment (not joel). major daddy issues. depictions of anxiety. moodboard for aesthetics only. see respective chapters for additional warnings.

ONE | welcome to the neighborhood

TWO | summer lovin’

✧ drabble | darling, hold out your hand (joel’s pov)

THREE | trust fall ✧ chapter moodboard

FOUR | i’ll keep you safe (in progress)

FIVE |

SIX |

SEVEN |

EIGHT |

*total number of chapters undetermined*

EXTRAS ↓

daddy!joel inspo pics

series inspiration tag

adorable edit by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

playlist

[procrastinating-story-writer]

             —   FROM THE VOID, WITH LOVE    !

                             AO3     |     SPOTIFY     |     PINTEREST

a masterpost for the drabble series by yours truly. a revisitation of a well-loved story; watch two forever-lovers fall in love again. canon divergent, set during loki (2020). 

READ ME !  /  completed  ;  8/14/21

1.    the beginning of the beginning  2.    apartment CMY9 3.    dress code 4.    pester pester 5.    absolutely miserable 6.    blunder #1 7.    expectations 8.    control variable 9.    a time disguise 10.  fingers entwined 11.   half a sandwich 12.  beauty sleep 13.  the perfect storm 14.  a million meteorites 15.  keep on 16.  home is the heart 17.  petal-mouthed 18.  rib of adam 19.  desperation 20.  heart-haunted 21.  touch 22.  one more almost 23.  an ode to the void 24.  the catharsis of venus 25.  the end of the beginning

SCROLL ME !

1.   the sacred timeline 2.   the variant timeline files 3.   the tag 4.   the god & the scientist 5.   fan art

[procrastinating-story-writer]

Zen - Grogu and Dust Bunnies | 禅 グローグーとマックロクロスケ — Lucasfilm x Studio Ghibli

[procrastinating-story-writer]

Why a dictionary?...

curious about what's in store for you for 2024? :D

Let AO3 decide!

(Updated from 2023: Up-to-date tag bank, opt-in tag categories, optional dark mode! As always: proceed with informed consent.)

[procrastinating-story-writer]

of beskar and kyber {{masterlist}}

Fandom: The Mandalorian (Star Wars Universe)

Pairing: Din Djarin x Force Sensitive! Reader (the Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader)

Summary: You’ve been on the run for as long as you can remember, from a lot of different people and a lot of different things. Everyone seems to see you as either a prize to show off or a captive to exploit. You had been successful in keeping a low profile and evading brief captures. That is until your mother contracted the Guild and the Mandalorian came to possess your tracking fob. 

Will he be the reason your freedom is no longer something attainable or will he be the one to help you achieve it in ways you never anticipated? 

Word Count: 82.1k - ongoing

Warnings: slow burn, enemies to lovers, plot heavy, very dialogue heavy in later chapters, reader has rich lore that will slowly be explored and brought to light

Keep reading

[procrastinating-story-writer]

tears to shed iii - simon 'ghost' riley

masterlist // masterlist call of duty

requested: no, but requests are OPEN! request: x

A/N: part 3!!any tips or feedback are very welcome <3 one more part after this one!!!!

part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4

wordcount: 6.270 warnings: ooc simon (like, very ooc), corpse bride au, she/her reader, story will (slightly) change from the original corpse bride, she/her graves

An arranged marriage to unite two worlds. But no one would have expected that it would bring together the living and the dead.

To your surprise, Ghost his coffin was actually very comfortable to sleep in. You have no idea what time it is now - it seems to be night here at all times. You stretch your arms, grimacing as the corset seems to poke into your body, as you slowly sit up. You almost expected to wake up in your own room, maybe one in the MacTavish mansion, but upon opening your eyes, you are met with the same view you saw when you had fallen asleep.

"Good morning, love. Sleep well?"

You blink a few times, wiping your eyes as you nod.

"Yeah. Yeah, I uh... not used to coffins. Oddly comfortable, though."

Ghost huffs, nearly snorting as he shakes his head. He was used to the coffin. He got buried in this one, used it as a seat ever since. Everyone here does that - what else are they supposed to do with them?

"Good to hear. I have a question."

You hum in response, pulling on your corset in an attempt to loosen it. The buttons on your back make it nearly impossible to reach for it, but you need to loosen it a bit. Ghost eyes you for a second, standing up from his chair before leaning behind you.

"Need some help?"

"Oh! Yes, please."

His hands skillfully open up the tiny buttons, steady and quick as if he is handling a weapon. His hands almost never tremble or shake - a steady hand is very important in the line of work that he used to be in. You sigh in relieve as you feel the buttons pop open, Simon undoing the ribbon of your corset, loosening it before tying it back up, the buttons closing again.

"What were you going to ask, Simon?"

"My mate, Price, asked to meet you. The man has known me for years, always said I wouldn't marry with my ugly mug," the man lets out a soft snort, finishing up the last button before backing away again, "Would you be up for that?"

"Your... mates?"

You would meet his friends, people that have known him for much longer than you have, yet you are married to him. The situation, in a way, is the same as you would have ended up in anyway. Married to a man that you would have met only mere hours before, being in an unknown place, and not knowing what to do with yourself.

"I would love to."

He holds out his hand to you, the bony one first, but quickly changes it to his 'actual' hand. You let out a giggle, taking hold of it before following behind him. Whiskers takes the warm spot that you previously sat at, meowing once before curling up into a little ball. You still can not believe that you got to see Whiskers again. There are still confusing thoughts occupying your mind. Is this truly what the afterlife is like? Are you meant to be here, or should you get out? Have you died?

The two of you follow the same path leading back to the bar. Ghost is quiet, but it does not feel uncomfortable. His hand is cold and rough, yet it feels more inviting than any other touch you have ever felt. Your body fills with nerves, not quite knowing what to expect. Sure, you met the man with the cigar before, but that was while you were freaking out.

Ghost opens up the door, the music of the bar and the smell of booze nearly hitting you in the face. Some eyes are on you again, but Simon is quick to shield you and guide you to his favourite booth in the corner of the bar. He does not sit down until you do, someone quickly coming over to your table.

"Ghost! What can I get ya?"

"A whiskey."

"And for the lady?"

You look from Simon to the man, raising your eyebrows for a second. You do not drink any alcohol, but you are not sure what else they have.

"Just a water, thank you."

The man nods, walking off to go and get your drinks. It takes only seconds for Price to pop up, a big glass in his hands already.

"Simon! Little lady, how good to see you again. Have you adjusted a bit already? Sim- Ghost here can be a bit cold and rough around the edges."

"Oh!" You look at Simon, an amused smile on your face, "He has been an absolute dear. Why? Are you not used to that?"

Price lets out a loud laugh, moving a chair to the table before sitting down on it. He takes a gulp of the beer before placing it down onto the table. Simon being a 'dear'? Has she met the same man? All that John is used to is the icy and stoic demeanour, the cold stares and low groans. He does have to say that Simon seems... different.

When Price had not gotten any replies from Simon, he immediately thought of the worst. Captured by the enemy, shot on the field - he had to have been dead. It wasn't until a few months after where John himself lost his life, running into one of his life long friends in the afterlife. Simon was sitting at the bar, his gaze set on a half empty glass of whiskey, not really talking or looking at anyone. It was a relief to finally know what had happened to his friend, even if it meant both of them weren't living anymore.

"A dear? I have heard people call him a lot of things, but a 'dear' is not one of them. Good to hear, though," he takes another swig of his beer, "I have known this guy for years and years, never seen him be this nice or trust someone this fast before."

The comments make you feel special. How could you not? Price has known Simon for much longer than you have, and to hear this, kind of makes you feel flattered. Is it weird? You are to be wed to someone else, though. But... You are wed already? How odd that is. How could you even explain that to your parents?

Two glasses get placed in front of you and Simon, whiskey and water respectively. You quietly thank the server before sipping the water. It does not taste any different. Why did you even think it would?

"That is very sweet to hear. Here I was, thinking he would want to get rid of me as fast as he could," you let out a short laugh.

"Now, why would I?"

Ghost lifts up the bottom of his mask, the glass of bourbon lifted to his lips. This is the first time you have seen him without it, even if only partially.

You can't help but stare.

There are scars littering the part of his face you can see and you simply can not help but wonder what the rest of his face looks like. Simon places his glass back down and goes to pull his mask down again, but he can see you looking at him. He glances at you for a second before blinking once, pulling the mask off of his face entirely.

You immediately look back to your glass of water. Had he noticed your stares? It makes your cheeks feel warm, and the action makes Price lean back in his chair, a grin on his face as he lights the cigar. It takes a few seconds before you lift your gaze again, eyes meeting Simon as you breathe in deeply.

Behind this mask, behind the skull, lies what looks like an angel. He might as well be - this is some type of heaven, after all. Every single detail fits him so well. His eyelashes, the freckle on his cheek, his lips, his nose. All of them match together in a way that is absolutely perfect.

"Well," Price coughs, grinning before lifting his cup again, "Have you decided on where you will be stayin'? Simon's house is not very inviting, is it?"

Where will you be staying? Should you even stay in this world at all? Your parents must be worried, right? They will be looking for you, if they even know where to start. God, they must be fuming.

"A coffin is oddly comfortable," you mumble, sipping the water, "Whiskers seems to like it too. But -"

"A new arrival!"

Everyone immediately looks over to the voice, a crowd already forming, the same way as they did to you. You now understand why. Curiosity pulls on you, wanting you to go and find out who it is.

A jug of beer immediately gets brought over to the 'new arrival' and he seems to drink it the second he can. His figure, the outline, it looks oh so familiar. It is not until the person moves to the side that you see who it is.

"Shepherd!"

You jump up from your seat, leaving behind a confused Ghost and Price. You can not believe it - Shepherd is dead? His skin is more pale than you remember it being, but he does not seem to have any scars or wounds on him.

"Miss Y/N?"

"Shepherd... Oh goodness, what happened to you?"

The man scoffs, shaking his head as he takes a swig from his beer. He does not dislike you, you had always been kind, but your parents were an entirely different story.

"Nothing you should worry about, miss."

"Please, Shepherd, call me Y/N," you furrow your eyebrows, looking up at him, "How... How is it up there? How are mother and father? Mister MacTavish?"

"Word is going around, Y/N. You on the bridge, disappearing into the woods with an unknown man. Have you run off? Have you been killed?"

"No! No, I..."

How can you explain yourself? You had accidentally married someone who was not Johnny, now living in the underworld while still being alive. He would not believe that, would he?

"Something just happened and that is why I am here. I wonder if I should go back up," you whisper, "How about mother and father? Are they looking for me?"

The man feels bad for you. Your parents had done absolutely nothing to come and find you, barely getting off of the luxurious sofa to move to their luxurious beds in their luxurious rooms. The only person who seemed to care about your wellbeing was mister MacTavish.

"Sorry, Y/N," Shepherd shakes his head, "Last I heard, nothing happened. Mister and Mrs. Y/L/N have been either in the drawing room or in their chambers. Mister MacTavish seems so be looking for you, but his parents are forbidding it. It is said he is to marry miss Graves, the lady that had come in during the rehearsal. The wedding is set soon, maybe even tomorrow."

Johnny is to marry someone else?

Your heart should hurt, your ego should be dented, yet you don't feel ashamed at all. Maybe she fits him better. She seems put together, perfect, rich and famous. It would help Johnny and his family out - more than your family could. Sure, they had money, but miss Graves seems like the complete package.

"They left me?"

"Sorry, Y/N."

You blink before swallowing, your throat feeling swollen and closed. What else had you expected?

"I will see you around, Shepherd. Thank you for all that you have done for me."

You have mixed feelings. Do you even want to go back up to the surface after knowing that your parents did not care at all? Johnny seems to be the only one that even remotely cared, and even he is not allowed to come and find you. The path back to the table is slow, your mind distracted and your feelings conflicted.

"You okay, love?"

Ghost his cup had already nearly been emptied, while your glass still remained full.

"Yes. Just a familiar face, is all."

It was only the two of you, now. Price had gone off, probably refilling his pint. Simon looks from you, to the glass, and back to you. You seem so... different. Is it the shock from seeing someone you know? He remembers how he felt when Price suddenly stood in front of him.

What are you to do now? You have never felt as at home as here, never felt this cared for, never felt this comfortable. But, is it your time yet? You look back at Simon, thoughts racing through your head as you try to pick what you should be doing. The right thing, the expected thing, is to return from where you came from. But, is that also the thing that you want to do? It seems like no one upstairs cared that you had gone missing.

"What is keeping your pretty little head so busy, love?"

"Do you think I could go up to the surface?"

It is like all the chattering in the room suddenly quieted down, Simon his mind racing and his non-beating heart nearly falling out of his chest. Go back up? Leave him all alone?

"I just... In order for me to stay here, I need to finish things up... Up there."

You have to say goodbye, at least to Johnny. You can't leave him in the dark like that - he must be worried. He must be the only one worried if he was the only one looking for you. If you run into your parents, you might bid them goodbye too, though you know all they will do is be disappointed and maybe even upset that you came back.

You want to come back after it?

The thought feels relieving to him. How can he deny you of it? After all, he kind of brought you into this entire situation, so the least he could offer was to help you work out your final wish.

"I might know a way."

The walk to whatever destination Ghost was heading to, was much longer than the walk to his home. The road is rocky, and the closer you got to the destination, the quieter it seems to get.

"This person knows how to do anything."

In front of you is a discreet building. Small, but very sleek and clean. You hesitantly follow Ghost inside of the building, met with stacks of books and papers. Are you trespassing? What are the laws and rules in the land of the dead?

"Simon 'Ghost' Riley, always a pleasure."

"Laswell. Good to see you."

An older woman walks around the corner, pushing the last pin into her bun as she looks over at you.

"And a guest."

"My wife," Simon nods, looking at the woman, "We need to go upstairs."

"Upstairs?"

Laswell, as Ghost says, walks over to a desk, sitting down on the corner of it while never looking away from the two of you.

"What the hell do you need from upstairs?"

"It's not for me. It is for her," he squeezes your hand, "She needs to say goodbye. Unfinished business, and all that."

"Going upstairs is one hell of a mission, Ghost. You know that."

"I know, Laswell," he groans, "Just this once."

The woman looks from him to you, sighing before nodding. She then stands up, rummaging through some cabinets before pulling out an item.

"My dogtags? You still got 'em?"

"Sure as hell. Copies, even," she nods, "Put these on at the same time, and you will go up there. Don't be too long, Ghost. To return back, all you say is 'Affirmative'. Back to the good old days."

Both of you receive the dogtags, your fingers softly rubbing over the texture of them. 'Lieutenant Simon Ghost Riley, Task Force 141'. It is such a personal item - it does not surprise you that this will take you back.

"Don't take too long. I have no idea on how your body will react by being upstairs."

Simon simply nods, putting the dogtags on himself before you follow his lead. The room gets misty, the dust getting into your nose as you sneeze. The second you open your eyes, you are right back to where you were before. Woods behind you, the bridge underneath you, and Ghost next to you.

It is still the middle of the night, the moon high up in the sky and the streets quiet. It almost looks like no time has passed at all, but according to Shepherd, at least one day has gone by. Though he was up here not that long ago, it feels so different to Simon. The moon here is brighter than it is down below, its light illuminating you in an even more beautiful way than he could have ever expected.

"So," you quietly say, fiddling with your hands, "How should we do this?"

We.

"Don't know, love," Simon looks around. Should he have taken his mask? He had completely forgotten about it, "Where do ya need to be?"

"That tall house, over there."

All lights were already off. They must be asleep. Your mother, your father... everyone is inside.

"Let me walk you there. I will be outside, making sure you're safe."

You gratefully nod, slowly leading him to the home. How will you even enter? Through the front door, or maybe you have to climb through a window? The only person you need to see is Johnny.

When you walk by the side of the mansion, you see the flickering of a candle. Immediately you stop moving. Is someone still up? From inside of the home you hear shuffling, the sound coming closer and closer before stopping in front of the window.

Johnny.

Furrowed eyebrows, his arms crossed, and his eyes fixated on the bridge that you had just come from. He is the only one looking out for you. At least, in this world. It is good that he is on the lowest level - no climbing up balconies.

You softly knock on the window, Ghost standing a few meters away from you, as you try and get his attention. It seems to nearly scare Johnny as he jumps from the sudden sound, his eyes growing big once he sees what caused it. You see him mouth your name before quickly opening the window.

"Y/N?!"

"Shh," you quickly whisper, looking behind him, "Yes, it is me."

"Where have ya been? Wait - come inside!"

"Johnny, I can't. It's... It is a long story, but I could not leave you behind without any answers."

He looks at you with a bewildered look on his face. You are speaking nonsense, the cryptic messages not nearly enough to build up an answer.

"I have to go soon, but none of that is your fault, John," you continue, "I just do not fit in here. My mother and father... I was told they did not even bat an eye when I disappeared. You deserve so much better than that, Johnny. The blonde woman, she seems rich and kind, she can give you the life you need. The one your parents want."

"What if I don't want 'er?" He whispers back, leaning out of the window, "Our parents are despicable. Your parents did not pay any mind to you disappearing, and mine did not let me go out to find you. Neither of us are in good hands."

Should you truly leave him behind? Or do you need to be selfish, just this once? Because, what do you truly have here? Shepherd is down below, your parents do not care, you are barely allowed to have your own opinions... Johnny would be the only good thing left. But down below is where you feel free, welcomed, safe.

"It is a situation that I could not even begin to explain, Johnny," even though you really wish you could, "But they do not care about me. They want to be famous, high up on the ladder... If your parents only need money, you might be better off with the other lady. I care about you, truly, and that is why this sounds like the best choice. Maybe... Maybe I can come by once in a while."

"Yeah," Johnny slowly nods, "But I still don't understand. I have to tell them you're back, I-"

"Love, we have to go."

A low voice speaks up, one that Johnny has never heard of before.

"I'm sorry, Johnny."

"Affirmative."

The smoke engulfs you once more, leaving a confused and cold Johnny behind. Where had you run of to? Why had you left him behind? Whatever is going on, he still has to wed. Miss Graves it shall be.

You are back in the small home belonging to Laswell, the dogtags now in your hands instead of around your neck. You slowly hand it back to the woman, your heart still racing and your mind chaotic.

"Thank you, Laswell."

The journey back to Ghost his home starts, though the way back home seems to go much faster. You feel relieved, in a way. You can now stay here, a place that has accepted you much faster than the other world ever could, no matter how absurd it might be.

"Who was he?"

You look up to Simon, his shiny eyes looking down at you.

"A... friend, I guess. Couldn't leave him behind without answers."

He hums, his thumb softly rubbing your hand. He can not believe that you are here to stay. Finally, after countless years, he has been given the chance to become a husband, and he would love to do nothing more than be the best husband one could ever be.

Ghost opens the door to his home, making sure you are safe inside before closing it behind him again. On his bed - coffin, sit a new pile of blankets and pillows.

"Got Gaz to put 'em there. Figured you might be cold, otherwise."

You smile up at him. You truly are here to stay.

"Thank you, Simon. Truly."

You can't help but stare at him. His face is so beautifully sculpted, so unlike anything you have ever seen. His hand is on your lower back as he guides you to the coffin, sitting down on the seat right next to it.

"You tired, love?"

You hum in response, moving some of the blankets around before sitting down.

"You go to sleep, okay? I overheard that there will be a party when you wake up. Newlyweds, huh?"

A giggle leaves from you as you nod, laying down on the coffin as Ghost leans over, pressing a soft, cold kiss to your forehead before sitting back in his chair. It takes not even minutes before you are asleep, wrapped up in layers of blankets.

After two hours, a knock sounds on the door, much too loud for Simon his liking. Do they not know you are asleep?

He stands up, reaching for the doorknob, but what he sees behind confuses him. Not only John, but also Laswell stand outside.

"Simon, we need to talk."

"Quietly," he whispers. "Y/N is sleeping."

John and Laswell look at each other for a moment before looking back at the tall man in front of them.

"It's about her."

"What about her?"

"Ghost... There is a complication with your marriage."

His marriage?

"What is it? Hope you guys aren't mad that she wasn't quite what you expected. Price, you said you didn't care that she was a breather-"

"Simon," Laswell firmly says, shutting the man up, "That is the entire thing. The vows... They are binding only till death do you part. The situation is... death has already parted you. The vows have never been real. Not in that sense, at least."

You groan softly, the different voices and sounds waking you up. You rub your eyes, though keeping them closed.

"What are you saying? Is she going to leave me to go back upstairs?"

"The chance is always there, Ghost. The vows simply do not bind the two of you together. There is only one way of it working."

"Well?"

"You aren't going to like it. It requires a great sacrifice."

"What do I have to do?" SImon ruffles his hair in frustration, "What do I have to give up?"

"It is not you, mate," Price looks down at the ground, "It's her. In order to get around the rules, she has to be... dead."

Dead?

Why had you never thought of that. 'Till death do us part', but that did not apply to you, Simon had already been dead.

"She will have to give it all up to stay here. She is young, Ghost," Laswell continues, "It is a hard choice. You would have to repeat the vows in the land of the living, and she would have to be poisoned or killed to come back here. Her heart can't be yours so long as it is still beating."

You slowly sit up in the bed, just out of their view. Simon is standing with his back toward you, shaking his head and rubbing his face.

"I will not ask that of her, are you fuckin' insane?"

"You don't have to ask me," you mumble, standing up and walking over to the group, "I will do it."

Ghost opens his mouth to object, but Laswell is earlier.

"If you choose this option, you can never return to the land above again. It is not an easy choice, Y/N."

"I won't miss anything there. They will not miss me, either."

If Simon could, he would be crying now. Are you truly willing to give it all up, for him? To actually make the scary step to be here forever?

"Well, let's get to preparing, huh?"

You can now understand why Price was the leader of his force. In only half an hour, he has organized an entire trip to the upstairs, a well-planned plan of attack, and, even a menu for the wedding. No cockroaches or spiders this time.

You should be terrified. You are going to be dead in a few hours. Is it more comforting to know exactly when you are going to die? You can prepare for it. Besides, you have seen the afterlife already.

Laswell is carrying the poisoned wine, and Price is holding the book with vows. Simon insisted that he should marry the two of you - that was the original plan for any wedding anyway.

It is quite odd how the afterlife is more lively than life itself.

Upstairs, the wedding between John MacTavish and the, now, Mrs. Graves has gone through, the small amount of visitors there seated in the dining area. Johnny sits with a scowl on his face, pushing the food around on his plate. He does not want to say he was in love with you, he had only talked to you for five minutes in total, but he already knew that you would be much better company than the woman next to him.

"Attention, everyone," she stands up with a sickly sweet voice, clinking her glass. No one was talking to begin with, "I am so utmost grateful and I am filled with joy to know that John MacTavish is officially my husband. Fate has brought us together, and nothing can take us apart."

The fireplace between the couple suddenly erupts in big flames, all who came from the underworld, now ascending back upstairs. Chaos fills the room, the living and the dead combined. Screaming, running, trying to leave the house as fast as possible. Even Lord and Lady MacTavish run out screaming, the most emotion they have portrayed in years.

In only a few minutes, the entire room is cleared, except for Johnny and Graves. He only stands there in shock, too confused to even move.

"That's it!" She hisses angrily, turning to Johnny, "We need to take all the money and get out of here! This is ridiculous."

"Money?" MacTavish scoffs, "What money?"

"Don't act stupid. I'm your wife now! I have the right to access your money!"

"We don't have any money," a laugh erupts from Johnny, "I married you for the money. Don't want my parents to end up in the poor house."

"No money?! You are lying!"

"Why? Are things not going according to your plan, Graves?"

Outside, there is an entire parade, all heading for the big church. A wedding has to take place, no matter what. Cakes, gifts, flowers. All are being taken to the venue, ready for the wedding of their beloved corpse husband. Some of these spirits have waited just as long as Ghost to see him get married.

He stands at the aisle already, you slowly making your way down it with a nervous smile on your face. Every seat in the church is occupied, both by the living and the dead. It surprised you, all of them knew each other in one way or another.

"We are gathered here today to join this corpse and this woman in marriage," Price starts, clearing his throat.

Johnny had stormed out of the house, leaving Graves by herself, only to be met with a large group of people outside. Where are they heading at this time of the day? Curiosity pulls on him, and so he decides to follow their trail.

"Y/N?"

A soft whisper, his eyes set on you standing next to this other man, right in the place where he was mere hours ago.

"Ladies first. Miss Y/N, your vows."

You turn to Simon, a big smile on your face as you nod, taking hold of his hands.

"With this hand, I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never be empty, for I will be your wine," just as you had said in the woods, picking up the fancy chalice.

"And now for you, Simon."

"With this hand, I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never empty," he slowly picks up the pitcher, filling up your glass, "For I -"

He stops talking when he spots a figure behind you. John MacTavish, dressed in a neat suit and a flower tucked in the pocket of his jacket.

You blink up at him, furrowed brows and the chalice of poison in your hands.

"For I will be..."

Come on, Simon. This is all you have ever dreamed off. You have fought for years and years, escaped death for so many of them, and now you finally have the chance to settle. To find peace, to find love, to find comfort.

"Go on, Ghost."

"I - Your cup, will never empty. For I will be..."

He can't.

"You will be my wine," you finish for him, a small smile on your face as you look up to him, adoration in your eyes.

You lift the chalice to your lips, wanting to take a sip, but a skeleton hand stops you. Whispers and mumbles fill the church - is the groom having second thoughts? Does he not want to marry you, after all?

"Y/N... I can't," he says, his voice low and gravelly.

"Why can't you? What's wrong, Simon?"

"This is wrong. I... I was a husband before. A groom. My dream was ripped from me," he looks behind you, "And now I am ripping it away from someone else."

Is this the sacrifice that Laswell was talking about? It feels like his heart is being stabbed yet again.

"I love you, Y/N. Heart and soul... But you are not mine."

He gestures at the figure behind you, making you turn around. Johnny stands behind you, shocked look on his face, his hands clammy and sweaty. Ghost his limbs feel like they might fall off, shaking as he gestures at Johnny yet again.

"Johnny?"

He slowly comes walking over, standing on your other side as Ghost slips off the ring that you had put around his finger, placing it in Johnny his hand.

"Oh, how touching!"

A sarcastic voice.

"You nearly had me crying! Two lovers, together at last! Surely this means they can live happily ever after," the woman strolls down the aisle, her dress white and a sarcastic grin on her face. "Yet you seem to forget one thing. That, is my husband."

The woman pulls Johnny as close as she can.

"I will not leave here empty handed. And that is not a threat," she glares at you, "That is a guarantee."

"You."

A low whisper, Simon staring at the blonde woman in front of him. Her shoulders drop, her grip on Johnny loosening for just a second.

"Simon?"

"It's you."

"How are you here?" She stammers, "I left you."

You look from Johnny to Simon to Graves. Is this the woman who, quite literally, broke his heart? Killed him, only to leave him for dead?

The crowd gasps, realization setting in. From a pocket of her dress, she pulls a knife, holding it to Johnny his throat, glaring at everyone in the room.

"Leave us alone! We must be on our way," she hisses, trying to back up and leave the church, but her path is obstructed.

Angry faces, corpses and skeleton alike, surround the woman. You step forward, glancing at Johnny before looking at the woman.

"Let him go."

"Why? Do I have to kill you, too?"

This sets something off in Ghost.

Him being killed is one thing - he was foolish enough to believe her lies. The fake love, emotions, promises. He thought they were real, but you have nothing to do with his past mistakes. He storms to Graves, overpowering her by pushing her to the ground as Johnny escapes her grip.

"Simon!"

You try to get closer to them, to get through the crowd, but that is nearly impossible. People are trying to hold everyone in the church, Ghost chasing after the woman. How dare she threaten you?

But then, she averts her eyes to you. You, the person who came back. The person who is destroying her plan. Instead of running from Ghost, she now runs at you, the same knife in her hands. You are frozen, shocked, confused.

Just as she is about to embed the knife in you, something stops her. You get pushed to the ground, and when you open your eyes back up, you see Simon, towering over you. The knife sticks in his chest, the very same spot where this exact knife landed just a few years ago.

He pulls it out, clenching it so hard that the bones in his hand nearly let loose.

"Touché," Graves hisses, clearly not amused by his little stunt.

"Get out," Simon only responds, his voice so low and dark that you nearly did not believe it was his.

Is this what he was like when he was alive? As a soldier, as an enemy?

"Oh, I am leaving," the blonde laughs, still as cocky as ever, "But first! A toast to dear Simon Riley."

She picks up the chalice that you had put down, filled to the brim with deep red wine. She furrows her eyebrows, a mocking grin on her face as she raises her glass.

"Always the best man, yet never the husband," she raises an eyebrow before putting the glass to her lips. "Tell me, Simon. Can a heart still break once it has stopped beating, hm?"

No response.

An icy look thrown her way, yet no attempt to stop her from drinking the wine. Price looks from Simon to the woman, knowing damn well why he is not stopping her. As a living person, the underworld has no right to do anything. But even one sip of the wine, and they can have their way.

"To you, Simon," the chalice emptied in only seconds, "And thank you, for the wine."

She goes to step off of the platform, one last look before walking back down the aisle. So confident, yet that only lasts for a mere seconds as she doubles over, gasping for breath and her hands gripping the ground.

She is dead.

When she turns around, her skin is lifeless, her eyes big and her hands gripping her throat.

"Go on," Price nods, the group closing in on the woman before guiding her back downstairs. It is what she deserves.

Price is the last one to walk through the door, giving you one last comforting yet sad smile before disappearing.

"Are ye okay?" Johnny his warm hands grip your cheeks, shock still evident in his face.

In only an hour, he has gone from a husband to a widower.

"I... Yeah, I am okay," you whisper, looking past Johnny and at SImon.

The man blinks once, a sad smile on his face, his shoulders dropping as he nods, turning around to walk away. Johnny looks at him and back at you, backing off for a second. If Simon allowed you to say goodbye, then so will Johnny.

You run down the aisle as Simon had gotten quite far already, calling out his name.

"Simon... But I promised you."

"And you kept it. We were married, love," he looks down at you, a lone tear in his eye, "And you made me the happiest person. But you belong with him. It is not your time to go, not yet."

He reaches into his pocket, a pair of dog tags in his hand.

"These are the original ones, no copy from Laswell," he looks at them before dropping them in your hand, "Thank you, Y/N. Forever and always."

And there he went.

Down the street, over the bridge, and back into the soil of the dark woods.

[procrastinating-story-writer]

7th Dimension (Masterlist) (Multi-Chapter Fic)

THIS IS AN X READER FANFIC WHO HAS BEEN BROUGHT TO THE DIMENSION OF JUJUTSU KAISEN

PUBLISHED: FEBRUARY 15, 2022. This can also be found in Wattpad and future chapters will be updated there first. You can find this book with the link here.

UPDATE: CURRENTLY ONGOING

MASTERLIST FOR OTHER FANDOMS

Characters: Gojo Satoru x Small!Naive!Fem!Foreign!Reader

Synopsis: She was known to be a daydreamer. A Walter Mitty. A fantasizer or maybe, a little too much more than that if she was being honest. With a life that shaped her into becoming weary and debilitated, setting one's eyes on a non-existent world that could bring her nothing but death and anxiety would be vast and perhaps a quixotic dream if she was brought in during the life she was currently existing in right now, seeing it as completely futile to begin with.

The world of Jujutsu Sorcery.

Strange to hear by people who knew nothing of the particular series, but exciting to those who actually comprehends.

It didn't help the fact that she was obsessed with a relatable manga or anime entitled Jujutsu Kaisen and a draining life back in earth that made the whole series her comfort zone or in other words, her hidden 'refuge'.

It was the only one that could keep her calm and stable.

What if the genie finally gives in to her commands, her thoughtless wishes just like what the others did? Yet, with an unfortunate fate just like theirs?

A woeful pattern of life that has always been the inevitable.

Being in-love with fictional men and adapting to their lifestyles or dimensions wouldn't bring anything but despair.

Especially, this time---she was bringing evidences of the past and the future of the man she has been smitten with back in earth. A fictional man who she adored, yet people laugh at her about.

As luck would have it, this man was the strongest sorcerer alive in his world. The one and only.

But, life made it seem like she was stronger when she had all the chances of knowing what could happen to everyone in the future which could include eternal rest and surreptitious schemes.

Everything would be a dilemma to her. Howbeit, to Gojo Satoru, it was betting on the odds that it might happen or not.

As long as she gets to remember.

The problem was that, the first time he met her has not been entirely the real her from the start as it was another woman who appeared to be a facsimile---a thorough replica of her physical aspects through another outlandish dimension.

Which can be more of a traumatic experience?

Was it to remember or to forget?

Warnings: This is rated M. Why? I mean, is anybody complaining though? *smirks* Do y'all want no smut in the future? I-I mean---Yeah. Details about blood, injuries or such might be expressed soon enough. Though, I'm having quite a difficult time understanding everyone's abilities, how curse energy is being used versus curse technique that I had to rewatch JJK over and over again, I'll try my best to be detailed where no readers will be left behind or would go 'what the hell is happening',

There will be eventual Smut, I hope. Hehe. Which is why I've rated this book as mature. Mutual Pining. ANGST. Kind of a slowburn. Gojo and his menace self. (I needed to include that in the warnings, right?)

2ND MAJOR WARNING: THERE WILL BE MANGA SPOILERS. The reader has basically already watched the anime and read the manga in this fanfic. This is a major alert because it's a MAJOR part of the plot. You'll understand why when you reach deeper in the story.

Important disclaimer and reminder (Please do read):

This is quite connected (but not entirely) to the series I'm currently writing as of the moment. It's named 'Witcher of the Night' and it's set in the world of The Witcher (Netflix Series). It has 30 chapters now and I'm working on 31. It also has the same X reader or X You vibes. No OC. (I apologize to those who hate the x you vibes) But, to the people who already know how I write, It's probably weird to the point that they're used to it?

To the new readers, you can take a peek at Witcher of the Night to see the truth. Hehehe.

Though, before you start reading this fanfic of mine for the world of Jujutsu Kaisen or Gojo Satoru himself, I'll be explaining it first to retrieve any confusion for y'all.

Think of my current fanfic books as a multi-verse. This fanfic can somehow serve as a slight major spoiler for my other book. I don't know how I reached to this point where I tried connecting both fanfics. If you love 'the witcher' and also 'Jujutsu Kaisen' then you'll be getting the best of both worlds.

There will be no differences (I suppose), if you only want to read this fanfic. The only thing that connects both of this fanfic together would be the special chapter I'm writing for Gojo's gatecrashing moment in that particular fanfic book of mine. (The special chapter is currently not published yet)

Think of it that you have multiple people looking like you but living in different souls and moments which is why you look familiar to him because he has already met a Doppleganger of you but from a different dimension. (Which is from the dimension of 'The Witcher')

I'll be including a picture to explain it further. This is it. It can be like this.

But, not entirely that because I'm not letting Y/N meet all together because I'm too dumb to explain that. 🤣

I'm not fond of using the Y/N a lot unless needed. You'll be having a nickname prepared for you just as how Geralt of Rivia in my Witcher of the Night series calls you 'Midget'.

If I say you'll be teleported with no abilities, there will definitely be NO abilities. Imagine you've basically been teleported right now from earth and to the world of Jujutsu Kaisen.

We'll live! I swear, I'll try my best that we don't die on chapter 1?

Hehehe. Yeah, we'll probably die in an instant by them, curses.

But, Gojo Satoru probably wouldn't let that happen considering he's the main love interest in this? I think? or maybe he would?

Anyways...

Unfortunately, and I just wanna say it again that the special chapter where Satoru will be getting to meet you in the Witcher verse isn't done yet. (I'm currently working on writing future chapters for this fanfic first so I have some chapters ready for publishing) But, I'll probably post the special chapter in this fanfic book once I'm done with it.

Credits go to Gege Akutami for Jujutsu Kaisen. The only thing I own here is the plot I created or the fanfic itself.

HEARTS, COMMENTS and REBLOGS IN BETWEEN CHAPTERS OR PAGES WILL SURELY BE APPRECIATED AS WELL! THANK YOU, BUCKLE YOUR SEATBELTS AND ENJOY THE RIDE!

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 2.1

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 3.1

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 4.1

CHAPTER 4.2

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 5.1

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 7.1

CHAPTER 7.2

CHAPTER 7.3

CHAPTER 7.4

CHAPTER 7.5

CHAPTER 7.6

CHAPTER 7.7

CHAPTER 7.8

CHAPTER 7.9

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 8.1

[procrastinating-story-writer]

Lol...hilarious

Optimus, on the verge of crying: QUICK! What’s your type?!

Y/N, bloody and bruised on the floor: *smirks* You😏

Optimus, internally face palming at his spouse’ stupidity: Sweetspark, I love you but NOWS NOT THE FRAGGING TIME— YOU’RE DYING!

Y/N: Oh! It’s B Positive.

Optimus: I SAID NOWS NOT THE TIME FOR THAT!

Optimus: I need you to start thinking logically

Y/N feeling bad for joking at first but then loses it cause they actually said their blood type:

Optimus trying not to lose it cause now his spouse is crying:

the medic that watched the whole thing and already knew all the answers and has been working on Y/N's minor injuries for like 5 min:

[procrastinating-story-writer]

😂😂

Crosshairs: you’re giving me a sticker?

Y/N: not just any sticker. That’s a sticker of a cat saying “me-wow!”

Crosshairs: I’m not a sparkling

Y/N: fine then I’ll take it back-

Crosshairs: no! It’s mine!

-----------

Y/N: don’t fuck with me, Sam! I’ll fuck your dad!

Sam: my dad is married-

Y/N: *grabs Optimus’ finger*

Sam: YOU SON OF A BITCH

Optimus:

—————

Sam: I need life advice

Y/N, sipping Gatorade and eating cookie dough: you came to the right person

Crosshairs:

[procrastinating-story-writer]

Reminds me of an Ichiruki fanfic I read years ago.

Mischievous co-worker Rukia 📝🐰 || (Extra)

[procrastinating-story-writer]

🤣🤣🤣

[procrastinating-story-writer]

Yes!!!!

[procrastinating-story-writer]

Aphrodesiacs Pt. 9

Miguel O’Hara x fem!spidey reader 

You and Miguel O’Hara were bitten by the same spider…what could possibly happen?

horny and angsty? yes pls.

NSFW. 18+.

Miguel wasn't lying

He didn't let you leave your apartment for the entire weekend.

You definitely weren't complaining but he wore you out tirelessly for hours on end. He fucked you on every surface, christening each space for his own personal fulfiliment. He bent you over, pressed your knees together, threw you to the floor, sank to his knees- he did everything.

"Tell me you're mine. Scream it for me.”

“Always. I always have been.”

The way you said that stuck with Miguel a lot longer than he was expecting or comfortable with, it rolled off of your sweet tongue with an unbridled ease, like you were meant to say it.

“I always have been.” Miguel frowned as his brain placed further emphasis on what you said.

It started on Friday night and now it's Sunday night, he was half expecting you to kick him out but he was still here...lying in bed with you after an entire weekend of fucking each other senseless. It was the most soul-replenishing and fulfilling weekend he'd ever had. The night was starless, grey, and bleak clouds hung over the sky as if to reflect his mood, straying by the second, the rain flooded and pounded against the curtainless window and his senses. As he glanced over your frame, he saw the New York city skyline bean up yellow and red lights. The rumbling of thunder and the flashes of lightning stopped his thoughts in their tracks as he felt the soft inhale of your breath. Your naked body pressed into the mattress, the white sheets covering you in slivers.

Even when you were sleeping you looked so effortlessly beautiful. Miguel glanced at the alarm clock on your bedside table, it was 2 AM. It was Monday tomorrow. That's when reality set in. His work, the pressure of his job, to control that many people and make sure the multiverse was safe. Miguel frowned at the thought. He wanted to spend the rest of his nights here with you, lying in bed with you and watching you breathe. But he loves being Spiderman, he was attached to what he had to do even if he didn't like it, he was so conditioned to doing his job he never once considered what a normal life could be like after what Gabriella- then you came along, destroying any semblance of peace he had left. You mumbled something unintelligible as you sprawled out even further. Your slender hands slid under the pillow, he kept staring at you like a lovesick fool, filled to the brim with anxiety and desperation as he quietly brooded. He felt like you caught him when he saw your eyelashes flutter. A lazy smile played on your lips. You definitely caught him.

“Go to sleep.” You muttered like you were scolding a small child, opening your eyes fully to see Miguel solemn and brooding.

“Can't.” He clipped, raking a hand through his already messy hair. Your mood changed exactly as he did, you flashed him a concerned look. Miguel always found a way to sabotage himself, to find the bad in every spot he was in and you were tired of it. You leaned down on your elbows, pursing your lips in confusion.

“Talk to me.” You say gently but all Miguel could hear was a sensual deity whispering sweet nothing.

Miguel was conflicted, a surge of sadness washed over and tightened his chest but he was very determined not to show it, his eyebrows creased in determination. Trying hard to keep the front he's manufactured over the course of many brutal and unforgiving years, being cold and distant was the only thing he knew to be even if it was you that was trying to pry it out of him. He couldn't just change overnight, not for you, not for anyone but part of him wanted to be better, to be better for you. Miguel's jaw ticked as he mumbled, attempting to conceal the fact that he wasn't particularly in a talkative mood- but you were nothing but persistent.

“Please?” Your hand went to reach out and lay on his chest but he stopped you before you could even touch him, he gripped your wrist and stared at you, his demeanor drastically changing. His grip was tightening and your eyes widened slightly, confused and concerned.

“Don't.” He said softly but stern enough that you got the message, his eyes were gleaming with a faint hue of red. You cocked an eyebrow at his behavior, after an unforgettable weekend, he was acting like you were a stranger- like all your use to him was sex, He was going to treat you like crap when you got to your normal life again. You frowned at the thought as you snatched your wrist back.

“What happens now?” You whisper woefully, a sad look ashening your beautiful face- the moonlight kissed your features perfectly.

"We go back to strangers, hating each other?” You say bitterly.

“What? No.” He shot you a look mixed with confusion and anger as if what you said was stupid.

“So we don't hate each other anymore, we fucked and we're gonna go back to work and act like nothing happened?”

“'I just- I don't know.” His answer didn't dampen your straying frustration at him, you pursed your lips in anger. mere idea.

“This was a one-time thing? So I'm just gonna go back to fucking other guys?” You raised an eyebrow at him, slightly peeved at the idea.

Miguel was internally devastated that you even thought to mention that, his body stilled with rage at the image of someone else touching you the way he did. It was as if his heart was being strangled by your bare aching fists. He wanted to grab you, flip you over and fuck you until his hips fracture but instead, he stayed brooding in silence, a storm brewing in his head.

Miguel's hand shot out and grabbed your cheeks, squishing them together as his talons dug into your skin slightly, you gave him an unimpressed look as he pulled your body closer to his. “No.” He said harshly, completely dismissing the idea of you going out and hooking up with other people like he had that sort of power over you. “Absolutely not.” Although you were pissed at him right now, your body was feeling entirely different, your pussy throbbed. You adjusted yourself, trying to stifle your arousal but it got ten times worse when your nipples brushed and hardened at the slightest contact of the mattress. Miguel was psychoanalyzing your every move, his gaze didn't soften at all, He liked that you were still in heat, even more so when you were trying to suppress it. You were confused when you saw him get up from the bed and then sit at the foot of it, his back facing you, looking more and more pissed with every passing moment.

"Come here.” he turned his head a fraction, enough for you to see slivers of red in his eye.

"Are you kidding?” You scoffed.

“Do I look like I'm asking?” His voice was mean and cold, a ruthless sharp vibration in your ears. Your body ached at the sound of his voice alone.

You were still bitter as you crossed your arms defensively. You rolled your eyes at him and decided to give into his unexplained whims, you got out of the bed with a huff and walked around it, Your naked body gleamed in the moonlight as you stood in front of him, Miguel's eyes were steely and din, unamused by your constant disrespect, asking the questions he didn't want to think about let alone answer, He hated that you brought up the idea of fucking other people and he hated the way he felt about it. This weekend was pleasure and pain combined- he made you feel euphoric, keeping you at that edge and then pummelling you. It was pain but it was perfect pain. Now you were pissing him off and he wasn't in the mood to be delicate and easy. He wouldn't give you the courtesy of telling you what he was going to do to you, he just wanted to do it.

You bit your lip as you stared down at him, he looked up at you like you were a dirty little whore acting unattainable- how ironic.

Miguel's palms traced over the dip of your waist softly and you pursed your lips slightly, acting unbothered. He hated it. we wanted to shock you, his right hand spanked your ass harshly, the sound ripped through the air and you gasped. You were his helpless little whore. Instead of talking about his feelings, he was gonna fuck it out of himself instead.

“Turn around and sit on my lap.” He demanded coldly, the look in his eyes was one of silent fury, His face sere slashes of rough arousal and boiling anger, Your eyes went from half-lidded annoyance to a bewildered shock, he liked it. you unhinged your jaw to say a smartass remark but he raised his eyebrow and that subdued you immediately, you turned your back to him and sat on his lap.

Your back facing his front, your ass nudging his already hard cock. Before you could even properly adjust, he hooked his hands under your thighs and pulled them up, your legs dangling off of his arms. a breathy moan escaped from your throat and Miguel's lips were pressed against your ear.

“I'm going to fuck you like this and you're gonna shut up and not bitch to me, understand cariño?” His hot breath landed on your ear, goosebumps rising at the shell of it. You hung your head back and it landed on his broad shoulder, moaning already.

“Yes, I understand.” You breathed softly. Miguel lowered your down on his cock, plunging into you and stretching you out until the his fangs licked and bit at your shoulder blade. “Ah- M-Mig-“ He pummelled into you roughly, bouncing you up and down as his fangs bit your shoulder blade.

“Run that fuckin mouth again, mention any other guy you fucked and I'll bully your cunt until you're fuckin sobbing, get the picture?” He groans raggedly, biting into your shoulder, specks of blood seeping out of your skin as he bounces you up and down.

“O-Okay! I get it...” You stuttered out, moaning like a bitch in heat as he plowed into you even harder, your slick running down your thighs. Your hands flew back and tangled in Miguel's hair, pulling hard and rubbing his neck.

“You're clenching so hard querida...my horny little bunny g'na make a mess on my cock over and over and over again.” He mumbled drunkenly in your ear, the sound of wet skin slapping against skin echoed throughout the room. His words shot straight to your aching pussy, sweat dripping down the valley of your tits as Miguel kept manhandling you like a little fuckdoll. The tightening coil in your lower gut snapped as you came, dripping all down his cock and thighs. Throughout this past weekend, Maguel had taken you in any which way but he was way more harsh and pissed this time around. You withstood it all happily. As you clamped down harder Miguel's grip had gotten tighter, bouncing you up and down harder. with that one final thrust and clamp, it didn't take long for him to finish, his hot cum spilling out of you. His groans were your favorite kind of music, it echoed through the chasms of his throat.

But Miguel didn't stop, he kept bouncing you up and down, overstimulating you and fucking you through your Earth-shattering orgasm.

“Miguel- It's spilling out.” You warn meekly but your voice gets lost.

“I don't care. I'll be done with you when I want to be done with you. Now shut up and take it.” He grits between clenched teeth, his jaw setting in anger. He kept going and going, stretching you out, hitting that spot he'd hit so many times in the past two days, spot you never even knew existed before him. You milked him dry and he stilled, sparks lighting under your skin.

Miguel's grip on you softened, letting go of your legs, your feet now settling on the ground, his dick still plugged in you. Both of you were softly panting, your breaths mingling as you leaned your head back on his shoulder, mouth slack and lazy. Both of you were still full of conflicting emotions, but it still wasn't properly released. The passion clouded both of you and it made you feel hazy enough to forget about it during the collision of your bodies, but after as you got a chance to breathe- the thoughts and feelings came back up again. Your hair was wild and messy, your body limp in his arms. Miguel wrapped his arms around your waist as you nested between his legs, he softly kissed the shell of your ear but you weren't buying what he was selling. This sudden act of soft affection after he quite literally fucked you full of anger and pent-up frustration- there was something he wasn't telling you but you were afraid to find out.

An embittered look carved onto your face, and that's when you stood up and got off of him, Miguel raised an eyebrow at what you were doing. Your naked body shimmered as the pale moonlight outside lit you up, you were acting unbothered again and he really fucking hated it. “What are you thinking?” He murmured with restraint, leaning back on his hands.

"Gonna take a shower.” you said softly, but your tone was almost as if you were talking to an acquaintance, not a man you gave your entire body to.

You went into the bathroom of your room, turning the light on and then the shower. Miguel watched you intently as you moved swiftly, closing the door- like you were locking him out. A frown settled on his face. He heard you step into the shower, a faint smell of citrus shampoo traveling through the cracks. Miguel sat with himself for a few minutes and decided that he didn't want to stay here alone. Miguel stood up and opened the bathroom door, steam flowing into the bedroom and circulating at the tips of the ceiling.

The glass casing of the shower made for a perfect view of your slick and wet body. Your hands were doing their work shampooing your hair, your ass looked even more perfect. The soap flowed out of your hair with ease, your fingers squeezing out the excess. you heard a slight shift that made you whip your head around, it was Miguel. “Can I join you?” he says uncharacteristically gently.

“Sure.” You said with a lazy smile. He was pleased that you let him get close to you, he loved being near you any way he could, watching you like a lovesick fool. You looked so natural, so pretty.

Miguel slid open the glass door and stood next to you in the shower, in your element, and for a strange reason Miguel wanted to take care of you. You flashed him a bashful look, throwing your head as a signal for him to get under the stream, he did, letting the water flow to all corners of his body, strands of hair stuck to his forehead, he raked a hand through his hair to slick it back. You were gawking at Miguel, seeing how his muscles tensed under the shower, the water flowing down his abs effortlessly. You blinked up at him dumbly and Miguel caught onto It.

“Mind if I-?” Miguel was acting like a horny teenager, even though he's literally fucked you sideways, in an intimate setting like this- he was nervous. He squeezed some shampoo into his palm and rubbed his hands together, lathering it. You nodded softly, turning your back on him, you were still quite far away though. He didn't like that, Miguel pulled your hair back so you could stumble back a few steps, your ass making contact with his cock. Miguel didn't even let you be surprised about it when he started massaging your scalp. It buzzed your body alive, you hummed appreciatively as his big hands raked through your hair.

“Mmmm...I didn't think you'd ever be domestic.” you say with a raised eyebrow, looking slightly defensive and miguel just huffed.

“I'm not..” His tone was clippy and you didn't like it.

"Yeah..”

You shrug him off and go under the stream, twisting your hair so the soap suds and water drain out of it, you didn't give his the privilege of eye contact. You couldn't deny that you were a little sad that once morning rolled around, he would leave and you would go back to working at HQ, ignoring each other.

-

next chapter is gonna be the last!

-

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[procrastinating-story-writer]

TAKING WHAT YOU NEED (m.)

tags: afab!reader, no prns, a smidgen of hurt/comfort, soft!simon as usual, established relationship

cw: wet&messy, masturbation(reader), multiple orgasms, riding him<3, u pin him down and he lets u, creampie, simons uncut bc i said so, tiny praise, overstimulation

note: i wrote this against my will it was supposed to be simon bein lazy and making u ride him and do the work and it turned into a sickening beast. please enjoy it. MDNI!

; in which ur terribly horny and neglected for simon but hes so busy and tired u have no choice but to take what u need &lt;/3

3.5k words

he's been so busy lately, almost distant without meaning to. you still get the sweet little bits of affection he always gives; a kiss to your forehead, and soft hand on your back when he passes behind you in the kitchen, your hand wrapped in his while u watch tv late at night, his hand petting your hair as you lay against his chest in bed.

but you want more, you're greedy.

it's been days since he last touched you. you're not used to the dry spells, simon always willing and ready to fuck u stupid into the mattress until u cant keep your eyes open anymore.

ur fingers simply could never compare to his. he's a man who studied your body, spent the better part at the beginning of your relationship playing with you and learning what exactly made you cum the hardest and easiest -- what your favorite spots and positions were. ur fingers tired quickly, leaving you with an orgasm u knew would be better if simon was the one with his fingers buried in your pussy

what did he expect you to do, honestly? when he came out of the shower with his towel low on his hips? his back to you as he rifled through his drawers looking for something comfy to sleep in, his back muscles flexing with the movement? were you just supposed to be able to roll over and sleep, go take a shower and act as if your panties weren't sticking to you from looking at him?

you wanted him so badly that it actually brought tears to your eyes. you didn't care how silly it was; you wanted him so bad it hurt.

"si..." you whimper, unable to stop how your voice wobbled when you spoke.

his head snaps back to look over his shoulder, brown eyes wide in concern. he briskly walked to the edge of the bed where you crawled to, sitting on your knees looking up at him pitifully.

"what is it, love? what's wrong?" his eyebrows were furrowed as he cupped your cheek, thumbing over the soft skin as his eyes analyzed every inch of you for signs of injury -- a little habit he always had.

"wan' you," you whine, placing your hands flat on his chest, moving down over his stomach where his abs flexed under the ticklish touch.

he scoffs, rolling his eyes before batting your hands away, "thought you were actually upset."

he sounds a little miffed, turning his back to you again to pull out the pair of sweats he had been eyeballing. he lets his towel fall and pauses when he hears you actually whine.

he says your name low in his chest, a warning. whether he actually wants you to stop because he's not in the mood or he just doesn't want to get started with it, you don't know. but it makes you pout a little, flopping back in the bed with a huff.

you hear simon shuffling about, getting changed into the sweats before turning off all the lights, save for a little nightlight you keep on beside you until you're ready to sleep -- on the dimmer side so it doesn't bother simon while he sleeps.

he crawls into bed with a sigh, leaning over where you're still pouting into the pillows to kiss your temple.

"i'm just tired, love," he coos, no malice or annoyance to be found in his voice. his hand comes up to rub your back and you fucking whine again, making him pause, "pouting like this is a little pathetic."

he's teasing you, you can hear the huff of a laugh under his voice. tears prick your eyes again and you petulantly push his hands away to sit up. he's leaning back against the headboard, staring straight at you.

"it's not my fault you've been neglecting me!" you whine, crossing your arms over your chest.

he actually throws his head back and laughs, "neglecting you? 'cause i haven't given you dick in a few days?"

"it's been more than a few days!" you spit back. although he's taking your bratty behavior in stride, you're actually a little annoyed.

he rolls his eyes and holds back a yawn, "you'll live. just...use that little vibrator you've got, it'll get the job done."

he goes to roll over and go to sleep but you make a noise that doesn't sound like your usual pouting -- it sounds actually upset. it pauses him in his tracks and he looks at you through the dim lighting.

"it's not just that," you mumble, flopping forward to smush your cheek against his chest, "i wanna have sex because i like being close to you, si...of course it feels amazing but i like being connected with you like that....'cause i love you."

he's still for a moment before his hand finds purchase on your back, softly rubbing against you in slow circles. he hums in his chest and kisses the crown of your head.

"'m sorry, love," he coos, "didn't think about that."

"it's okay..." you mutter before sobering up and sitting up to smile at him, "u get some sleep, i'm gonna go...take a shower."

he watches you crawl out of bed and root through your drawer, pulling out that vibrator he just mentioned and slink into the bathroom. it makes his heart ache a little but he slowly lies back against his pillow. his eyelids grow heavy as he lays there and before he knows it, he falls asleep.

he wakes again when you crawl back into bed, the smell of soap still fresh and wafting off of you. you keep your back to him as you curl into yourself in that cute little way that you do. it makes him drowsily smile to himself before he closes his eyes again.

but he can't fall asleep. you begin shifting and fidgeting almost as soon as he settles, it keeps him awake. he wonders what the problem is but his tongue feels heavy in his mouth.

you roll onto your back and he hears you sigh to yourself. his eyes crack open and he sees you staring at the ceiling. you glance over at him, not seeing the way his eyes are ever so slightly open.

he watches you slowly spread your thighs and your hand slide under the blanket, watches the way your brows furrow as you begin to slowly work at yourself.

his cock twitches in his pants; as tired as he is, no man would be able to sit there like nothing was happening while watching the one he adored touch themself.

he watches you, vaguely hears the wet, sticky noises of you touching yourself. he wonders if you're just working your clit in tiny little circles or if you've maybe stuffed a finger or two inside to get the feeling of being stretched. his cock hardens even further against his thigh and the sleepiness he felt begins to melt away but he can't bring himself to fully open his heavy lids.

after a few minutes, you make a frustrated little huff and pull your hand out from under the blanket, using a tissue on your night table to wipe your fingers off before flopping back into bed. you don't make another move to touch yourself, instead stare into the very dimly lit room in what he can fully understand is frustration. he even hears your sniffle a little bit.

his heart gives a painful little tug. he watches you close your eyes and obviously attempt to fall asleep. his own cock is throbbing by now and he's sure you're uncomfortably wet.

"got a problem, love?" he asks softly, voice thick and heavy with sleep.

he sees you jump and your eyes snap open before you look at him, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. how cute, he thinks.

"si?" you whisper, "did i wake you? i'm sorry..."

he can actually hear the guilt in your voice as you apologize, "all your tossin' and turnin', not a man in the world woulda been able to sleep through it," you look even guiltier and he reaches out to place his hand over yours that's on your stomach above the blanket, "thought you went and took a shower to take care of that problem?"

you look almost defeated and shrug, then a look of embarrassment crosses your face and he feels the need to click his tongue and tell you none of that, but you speak before he can, "couldn't um...you know...finish..."

he's quiet when you say that. he could tell, obviously. the way you pulled your hand out of your panties and nearly cried in frustration. he huffs through his nose in a noise you mistake for annoyance and give him a sheepish, half-hearted smile.

"sorry, si," you mutter, leaning over to kiss his nose, "i'll be still so go back to sleep, 'kay?"

he watches you lean over and flick the switch to your little nightlight, plunging the bedroom into complete darkness at last. he feels you shift one last time and then nothing.

he should simply go to sleep, he needs sleep. he's got a busy day ahead of him, like always. his hard on is starting to flag from watching the sad little display of you so embarrassed and disheartened. he could easily close his eyes and drift off, get his precious z's in.

but he just can't. knowing that you're going to sleep with sticky panties and completely unsatisfied because you can't seem to make yourself cum despite how badly he knows you need it.

he sits up and leans over you, hearing you make a confused little noise before he flicks the dim little light back on. you're staring at him in confusion but he doesn't offer any answers as he grabs your arm and hoists you out of the blanket you'd nestled yourself under. you let him manhandle you until you're sitting on his lap with him laid back in his pillows still.

"let's get this off you, love," he mutters, hands sliding up the t-shirt of his that you wore.

you make another confused noise but let him strip the fabric off of you anyway, "si..? what are you doing?"

"what do you think?" he asks, shoving the blankets away from him and haphazardly tugging the band of his sweats down so his half-hard cock is freed.

"y-you should be sleeping, si, really--" he interrupts you by forcing you to stand on your knees so he can tug your panties down and off.

you're so wet that there’s a mess of stickiness that clings to the fabric, making little strings that break when he pulls them down all the way.

"fuckin' hell, love," he whispers, his cock quickly hardening completely once again against his stomach, "you were plannin' to sleep while you were this fuckin' wet?"

you look sheepish again, "w-what else was i supposed to do..?"

he grits his teeth because he knows you're right; he hadn't exactly done anything except brush you off and tell you to deal with it yourself. it wasn't like he gave you the green light to ask him for help.

"sorry, love," he whispers, cupping the back of your head to tug you down for a kiss, "shouldn't 'ave been such an ass."

"wha-?" you shake your head, "you weren't, si. you were tired and i was just bein’ too needy."

he huffs out of his nose and grabs your hips, shifting so you sit directly on top of his heavy cock. your eyes roll back a little at the feeling of his hot length against your sensitive cunt.

"nah, was bein' selfish," he mutters, "knew you wanted it 'nd i chose to sleep. you even told me you just wanted to be close with me and i shrugged it off. i've missed you too, love, you know?"

"really?" you ask softly and his heart gives that painful throb in his chest again. had you doubted him? that didn't sit right with him.

"course..." he whispers, biting his lip. he wasn't used to being vulnerable and open with his feelings, so being put on the spot while telling you how he missed you made an uncomfortable feeling stir in his chest.

quickly understanding this, you shift against his cock, grinding your hips back and forth in smooth, slow motions. it makes his head sink back into the pillow; you're so wet that you slide effortless against him, covering him in a coat of slick juices. your motions also make his foreskin slide along his length as well, making him twitch every time the leaky head is stroked.

"fuckin' hell..." he groans through gritted teeth, "c'mon love, you do the work, yeah?"

you desperately nod your head and stand on your knees, gripping his cock to line him up with your entrance. he stops you for a moment with a hand on your wrist, a little glare in his eyes.

"you need prep?" he asks, a sweet little question that makes your heart melt despite yourself.

simon was a lot to take, thick and long. he always bumped against your back wall before he even fully bottomed out. the stretch was a sting that always made you both pause until it went away lest it hurt too much to continue.

you shake your head, "i-i used the toy and my fingers...earlier..." you remind him.

his grip on your wrist slackens at that and you take the chance to slowly and carefully sink down on him, jaw dropping open at the feeling of being stretched so fully by him after however many days.

you're greedy and needy, not even pausing as you quickly descend and take more and more of him in. it's faster than you usually handle it and he moves quickly to grab your hips and stop you, intent on making you take a second to adjust before taking all of him that you can.

you make a strangled noise akin to a sob in your chest and look at him with angry little tears in your eyes. the sight makes him pause and his cock twitch.

you slap his hands away harshly and continue taking all of him despite his apparent protests. he's taken aback by the little show of aggression.

"shit, love," he growls, brows furrowed, "is that how it is then?"

you nod your head and let your eyes roll back. it wasn't very often that you got to ride him, simon was more of a 'do all the work' type of man but this position definitely allowed you to take more of him than you usually could when he had you folded up into whatever positions he wanted.

once you took him as deep as you could, your hand flew down to your clit and with a few little circles and slow grinds of your hips, you were clamping down around him and cumming with a cute little squeal and a gasp.

he felt you soak him with your cum, his eyes locked onto where he was buried deep inside you. when you pulled up, he could see the creamy ring of cum around the base of him.

his head slammed back against the bed as he gripped your hips, your hands on his flexed forearms for support as you began to fuck yourself on his cock with a vigor he hadn't ever seen from you.

you hadn't ever been this needy before. seeing you fucking yourself completely stupid on his cock, only moans and sobs of his name to be heard besides the underlying squish of your cunt being stretched and stuffed.

"fuck!" he groaned, feeling the way your pussy clutched and pulsed around him as you angled your hips just right to hit that tender little spot that made you gush messily around him.

you once again slap his hands away from your hips. he glares at you, preparing to scold you for being such a brat but then you do something that shocks the words right out of him.

you grab his wrists and pin them beside his head on the pillow, using the grip as leverage to really begin fucking yourself back onto his cock. his jaw falls open, little moans and gasps escaping his throat as he watches you work yourself to another peak.

your tits bounce from the way you fuck yourself back on him and he wishes he could reach up and cup them, pinch and roll your hard nipples just the way you like. but he doesn't want to break this little hold you have on him, pinning him down like you think you're in charge. it's cute, really, the little show you're putting on.

it's clear he's denied you so much this whole time that you've simply snapped and now you're determined to get your fill until you've orgasmed so much that your little brain just melts. and he's more than happy to be there, not even lifting a finger and merely being a nice, hard cock for you to cream all over.

he has to admit, it's alluring to see his sweet little love acting so desperate.

he doesn't know how many orgasms you work out of yourself, but it's enough to have covered his cock and thighs thoroughly in your cum. he doesn't mind. you've always been quite a bit messy when he made you cum. but you've never came this hard and this much before. he's not even sure you're giving yourself a chance to come down from one high before you've worked yourself into another.

he's speechless, content to just lay back and watch the desperate show you've put on for him until your movements finally begin to slow.

you go from bouncing on him and pinning him down to grinding against him and cupping your own tits. your body is covered in a sheen of sweat from the workout and he's sure your thighs are fucking burning by now. you're panting and your eyes are half lidded as you stare down at him.

for the first time in a long time, simon feels...small. you had just fucked yourself better than he ever had using his own cock. the thought of that made him twitch inside you and he sees the corner of your lip twitch up and you smile at him. the heady, frustrated, desperate look in your eyes fades and you look so satisfied. the weight that he hadn't realized had been on your shoulders is gone and you lean down.

he tilts his head up and meets your lips in a kiss. your tits squish against his chest and he finally moves his hands from the position you'd pinned him in earlier and he smooths his palms down the length of your back, making you shudder.

"gonna let me cum now, love?" he asks breathlessly.

when you nod, your whole world flips and you find yourself on your back, simon pins your legs open with a rough grip under your thighs and begins working his hips.

it's clear you're painfully sensitive; your clit is swollen and tender, your whole body twitching when he meanly presses his roughened thumb against it. your hands once again find purchase on your tits and you squeeze and tug at your nipples.

he fucks you at a leisurely pace, listening to the filthy, clicking noises coming from the complete mess that you've made of your cunt. your eyes roll back and he rolls your tender little bud under his thumb until you seize up in one final orgasm that makes you kick your feet out helplessly.

“there it is…” he coaxes, tossing his head back to moan when you tighten like a vice around him, “so good f’me. that’s it, ride it out, little love.”

you've no choice but the ride out this final, painful orgasm on his cock as he fucks you through it to his own end. he spills inside you, pumping his hips a few more times, watching his own cum mix with the mess of your own that oozes and drools out of your gooey little cunt.

you flop against the bed when he pulls out, both of you panting and you trembling from the overstimulation.

he flops down onto his side of the bed with a sigh, eyes finally growing heavy once again as his exhaustion catches up with him alarmingly fast.

usually, he would clean you up and fix the mess you both left behind but he just truly can't bring himself to even consider getting out of bed. so he tugs you against him, listening to you whimper when more cum drools out of you from the way you involuntarily clench from the continued aftershocks of your numerous orgasms.

he hums and holds you close, dragging the blanket from the foot of the bed over both of you, kissing your forehead before tucking your head against his chest.

he would deal with the aftermath of the night tomorrow, when you both have clear heads. though, he's sure you're going to be sore. he can't wait to see it, he muses.

property of rowarn; do not modify, repost, or translate.

[procrastinating-story-writer]

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