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#THANK YOU I WAS HOPING SOMEONE WOULD ASK ABOUT THE ANGST <3
eternalbuckley · 3 days
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Together. — aemond targaryen
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SUMMARY: Aemond and you still love each other even if you weren't together anymore. So what happens if you're hanging out with your shared group friends and he invites you to a drink in his apartment? You might end up tangled with each other in his bed and talk about your feelings the next morning.
word count: 5,658
genre: slight angst with fluff, smut with plot | afab!reader, queer!reader, bipoc!reader and plus-size!reader friendly
warnings/tropes: modern au, 18+ MDNI!! NSFW (this part is divided with dividers so you can skip the actual smut part if you want), p in v sex, no use of protection (wrap it up folks thanks), cunnilingus, creampie (again, use protection), descriptions of alcohol use, mention of tipsy reader and aemond, slight cursing, use of they pronoun once, english is not my first language, slightly proofread — if I forgot something, please let me know!
a/n: it's my first time writing p in v smut, so please bear with me, i'm still trying to figure it out! this entire fanfic turned out to be the longest piece i've ever written lmao.i hope you'll enjoy it <3 reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated and highly welcomed!
disclaimer: please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work or post this anywhere without my consent. do not translate my work and post it anywhere — i give you no permission to do that. i only post my stories here, so if you find my work anywhere else please let me know!
18+ MDNI divider by cafekitsune
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The breakup between Aemond and you was mutually decided. Both of you were quite busy with your jobs and barely had time for each other anymore, which ended in a lot of arguments. Many of them were based on miscommunication or if anyone of you felt like the other one wasn’t giving them enough attention and love. This was the reason why you both mutually decided to break up after you’ve been together for a few years, both of you thinking it was the best decision during this time.
You still loved and cared for each other, but it wasn’t the right time to be with each other, as each one of you had a stressful period of your life, and the constant arguments outweighed most of the soft moments between you. You tried to be each other’s support, but it ended up in the opposite way during this time. It was clear, to everyone who knew you, that you two were still longing for each other over the months since you broke up. You tried dating other people in hopes you could fill the void that has been there ever since you parted ways, but it didn’t work out for either of you.
Aemond and you shared the same group of friends, or at least shared a few friends that hang out together every two to three weeks. Two times you and Aemond invited the people you were seeing to hang out with your friends. Meaning you and him would see each other as well. This didn’t work out quite well because the people you were seeing noticed how you and Aemond constantly looked in each other’s direction. They quickly realized that neither Aemond nor you stopped loving one another or knew that you still had some sort of feelings for the other one, even if you both tried to ignore or deny it, you knew the truth.
Your friends noticed this longing dynamic between you two ever since you told them that you decided to part ways for now. No one could say that they didn’t see the longing stares both of you had whenever the other one wasn’t looking, or the gentle touches you had on each other from time to time that were just lingering quite too long for friends.
Many times, Aemond would ask his sister, Helaena, who was one of your closest friends, if you had already found someone else or how you were doing. Especially if he noticed that you seemed off one day you and your friends hung out, he’d immediately try to find a moment to get to text or talk to Helaena alone and ask her about it. If she was able to tell him something, she would give him a few details. And you would do the same if you noticed something different about him and asked Helaena most of the time. Sometimes you would go to Aegon, in hopes that he hopefully might know something. It would depend on the situation. It was hard to ignore or deny that you two still deeply cared about each other.
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Both of you were currently hanging out with your friends again, sitting next to Helaena and having your legs over hers as you laughed with her. Watching the boys as they turned on the fire of the campfire. Aemond sat opposite from you and Helaena and tried not to look over at you too much and to focus more on the conversation he had with one of your friends. It was a cozy and quiet night; everyone was having a good time. Helaena excused herself for a moment to get herself another drink as you took a swig from your own bottle. You noticed how she slightly nodded in Aemond’s direction as she went back into the kitchen of the house. A few seconds later, you saw how he slowly walked over to you.
“Can I sit down?” He asked with a soft tone in his voice and motioned to the seat next to you. You looked up to him and nodded, slightly scooting to the side to make more room for him to sit down. Your arms brushed against one another as he sat down next to you, sending a slight shiver down your spine, but you tried to play it down and didn’t pay attention to it.
You took another swig from your bottle, even if it was almost empty. You could have gotten up to get another bottle, but you didn’t want to ruin the moment with Aemond. You haven’t really had any conversations with him in the past few weeks, only having your eyes on each other. It was quite a comfortable atmosphere between you, as you watched the fire and listened to its crackles, but he had his eyes on you, admiring you as the fire cast a beautiful light on your face. He reached out and removed something from your hair, causing you to look at him for a moment, slightly confused. But in the short moment his fingers brushed over your hair sent a warmth through your body.
“It was just a tiny bug,” he tried to keep his voice low. Your lips turned into a small smile, “Thank you.”
Neither of you really knew what to say, you wanted to have a conversation with him, but you didn’t quite know what you could talk about. You could have asked him about his life, what he was up to at the moment, but you weren’t sure if he was even ready to talk about it.
As you wanted to ask something he got pulled away by Aegon. “Sorry, my lady,” he had his hands on Aemond’s shoulders and grinned, “I need my brother for a moment! He will be back at your service in a moment,” he giggled, clearly drunk as he dragged Aemond away.
You sighed with a smile on your lips and didn’t stop him, sometimes it was hilarious when Aegon was drunk. Occasionally, you wished things were different, but it was what you and Aemond had decided, so you must stick with it. You slowly nodded to yourself and got into the house to get another bottle, joining Helaena and completely missing the way Aemond longingly looked over to you as his brother talked his ear off.
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A few hours later, you were talking with Helaena again, sitting together with Aemond on a bench in front of the campfire. He sat next to you, and you felt the warmth of the flames and his body, it was a pleasant feeling that filled you. His arm was resting behind you on the backrest of the bench you were sitting on. Helaena left you and Aemond alone for a moment after she had finished her story.
When she left, he slightly leaned into you and whispered into your ear, his voice casual. “Would you mind joining me for a drink back in my apartment?” He was nervous about how you would react. He already expected that you would refuse him, but he raised his eyebrows for a short moment as you accepted his invitation. Aemond cleared his throat and nodded, happy that you said yes.
A few minutes later you and him said your goodbyes to your friends. Helaena had a smirk on her lips as she hugged you. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do with my partner, babe,” she teased you and whispered into your ear.
He was slightly nervous as he led you to his car and opened the passenger side for you. You occasionally looked at each other during the drive to his apartment but didn’t really talk with each other, perhaps both of you were too nervous?
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One drink turned into two, and two into three. Both of you were slightly tipsy by now and were talking with each other as if nothing had ever happened. You sat next to each other on his couch, and he had one arm on the backrest, resting behind your head. Your legs were slightly bent in his direction. You noticed the way he looked down at them sometimes, and you wished he’d just grab them, but both of you knew that neither of you would dare to cross the line without completely knowing if the other one wanted it too. But you both wanted it deeply. The conversation died down between you a few minutes ago, you’ve just looked at each other. The air had already been thick before, but it was getting worse in that very moment. You found yourself looking down on his lips, and he did too. Both of you leaned into each other but stopped when you were only a few movements away from each other’s faces. Should you really give in to what you’ve wanted ever since you broke up all these months ago or not?
You felt his breath on your face and just wanted to give in, you wanted to feel his lips on yours so badly. You could swear you stopped breathing when he carefully brushed your hair out of your face and cupped your cheek, you leaned into his touch and held his gaze.
“Aemond…” You dared to break the silence with a shaky whisper. You craved his touch, as much as he craved yours. Your lips were parted as your gaze went down to his lips.
“Tell me to stop if you don’t want it,” he looked up from your lips into your eyes to find any hesitance, but he saw the way your pupils dilated as he held your gaze again. “I don’t want you to stop,” you whispered eagerly and hummed as he immediately captured your lips in a passionate and desperate kiss. Both of your tensed shoulders relaxed eventually,
His hand still cupped your cheek, stroking it with his thumb, your hand found his cheeks immediately and pulled him into you, while his other arm, which was resting on the backrest of his couch, wrapped around your waist to pull you into his lap. You straddled him and deepened the kiss as both of you opened your mouth to feel each other’s tongue, completely losing yourselves in the kiss. It’s what you’ve both been craving, and neither of you wanted to stop the moment. You didn’t want to think of the possible outcome or how it would change the current dynamic between you two, maybe you would find your way back to each other or it wouldn’t change a thing. Maybe it would just stay at making out with each other, but both of you wanted and needed more.
He missed to feel your skin against his, the way your curves felt when he traced them. The way you’d always react to his touch, arching your back whenever his hand found its way between your thighs. The way you always reacted to his kisses, whether it was a more heated or soft and slow kiss. You loved each of them, and so did he. Aemond loved the way your hands felt on his skin, the way you’d always end up tracing his arms, hands or face whenever you cuddled or were next to each other. He appreciated and missed these moments with you. It may only have been a few months since you two broke up, but the more intimate moments between you had been missing way before you eventually parted ways.
Both of you slowly pulled away from each other, faces still close as you spoke against his lips. “Are you sure we should be doing this?” You whispered, your voice slightly raspy from the lack of air in your lungs. Both of his hands had found their way to your hips and gently circled his fingers on your clothed skin, squeezing your skin.
He nodded. “I… I just need you, darling. I’m sure,” his voice was low and raspy as well. His good eye filled with desire as you looked at him and kissed him again. “Me too,” you whispered between kisses.
Aemond lifted you by gripping down on your thighs and placed you underneath him on the couch. He pulled away from you with a cheeky smile and kneeled in front of you as he pulled you on the edge of his couch. His hands roamed over your thighs to the button of your pants. Aemond looked up to you, slightly asking if he could continue. You nodded and didn’t break eye contact with him as he slowly opened the button of your pants and motioned for you to lift your hips so he could pull off your pants. His gaze never left yours, and he noticed the way you had your lower lip between your teeth as you lifted your hips eagerly, knowing what would follow. His fingers gently traced over your now exposed skin. His lips found the skin of your hip bone, which was still covered only seconds ago. His eye closed for a moment to capture this moment in his mind.
He pressed open kisses on your covered and uncovered skin, “I missed this so much,” he mumbled as he firmly but also gently gripped down your thighs while looking up at you again, silently asking if he could part your legs. You slightly sat up and parted them, causing him to smirk and move between them. His hands brushed over the flesh of your thighs and caressed them as he slowly moved them up to brush over your panties. Your breath hitched as he brushed over your still-clothed heat.
“Please, Aemond,” you whimpered as he teased your clothed clit with his finger while a smirk was on his lips. You hated how desperate you were for him, but you finally needed to feel him again. In every way you could have him. “Don’t tease me now.”
“Very well,” he hooked his fingers with the fabric of your panties on your hips and slowly pulled them down. You lifted your hips again, so it was easier for him to take your panties off.
A soft hum left his lips as soon as he tossed your panties away and saw your already glistening heat. He leaned down and pressed more kisses on the area of your heat, but not where you needed him. It frustrated you, and that made him chuckle. He always used to love to tease you, but he knew it wasn’t the perfect time for that right now, as it only tortured him as well. He couldn’t wait any longer and just wanted to get his mouth on you, his growing bulge in his pants could wait for a few moments. He wanted to give you the pleasure first. A moan left your lips as soon as he pressed his lips on your clit and made eye contact with you again. Aemond took a long drag through your slit with his tongue, your mouth stayed slightly open. He groaned into you as you grabbed one of his hands that were still on your thighs and held on to him as he devoured your cunt. He missed those pretty sounds that left your lips, especially how you tasted. For a short moment his mind went completely blank.
He started sucking on your clit and licked through your folds, causing you to tighten your grip on his hand, nails digging into his skin and your moans to get louder. He flicked his tongue in long and slower licks and changed the technique every so often to a faster and shorter pace. Completely devouring everything he could get from you. You didn’t even think about keeping it quiet, as it was overwhelming to feel his tongue on you. All the build-up tension over the past months is finally being relieved. Who would be better than him? No one.
You felt the all too well-known knot in your stomach, signalling that you were close to your climax. Aemond knew you were close as he noticed the way your panting increased, and your head fell back against the backrest of his couch. You cried out for more and wrapped one of your legs over his shoulder, which caused him to moan into you.
“Fuck– Aemond, I’m close! I…” Your grip on his hand tightened even more, if that was even possible, your back arched, and eyes closed as you focused on the building pleasure in your stomach.
“Don’t hold yourself back, darling. Come all over my face,” he panted against your cunt and got his mouth back on your swollen clit to sloppily circle his tongue around it, savouring each second while being between your thighs. Your mind turned blank as he continued to pleasure you, he still knew how to take care of you perfectly.
A strangled moan left your lips as you came on his tongue a few moments later, your legs slightly shaking as he fucked you with his tongue through your orgasm. Aemond could swear he almost lost his mind as he heard your moan and tasted you on his tongue, his hips humping into his couch. A soft chuckle left your lips as you exhaled and looked down at him. He was still kneeling between your legs, and his chin was glistening with your arousal and some of his spit. After you gained some strength again, you leaned forward and kissed him while your hands were on his cheeks, moaning as you tasted yourself.
“You did so well for me,” he praised you with a whisper as he pulled away from the kiss. “Can I take you to my bed or do you–“
“Please,” you nodded eagerly with a hushed voice, “Please do, Aemond.”
He gently picked you up, his hands digging into the skin of your thighs and placed open kisses on your exposed neck as he carried you into his bedroom, kicking the door as you were inside to close it behind him. He carefully placed you on his bed and hovered over you as he continued to kiss your neck and jaw. Your hands found the hem of his shirt and pulled on it, he moved his head away from your neck so you could pull off his shirt. You tossed it somewhere into his room, not caring about where it landed and traced his chest tenderly. He captured your lips in a kiss, his hips slightly buckling against you as you wrapped your legs around his hips to pull him closer to you. You took off the rest of your clothes from each other in a few motions, leaving both of you naked as you straddled his lap. His hands roamed over your thighs, caressing them as you leaned down to leave kisses on his chest while feeling his length underneath you.
He sharply inhaled as you wrapped one hand around his aching cock and stroked him a few times which already left him gripping down on your thighs, and he wasn’t even inside you yet. You smirked because of his reaction, you understood how he felt and eventually positioned his tip at your entrance and slowly sank down on his length, feeling how he stretched your walls. A low, needy moan escaped both of your lips, your hands on his chest, holding him down on his mattress, and his were holding you by your hips. You waited a few moments before you started to roll your hips, finding a pleasant rhythm for both of you. Aemond was completely at your mercy, it took him his entire strength not to come immediately. The sounds you made and how your hands roamed over his torso only added more levels to the pleasure he felt because of you. His body shivered, and his heartbeat increased. He felt you clenching around him and groaned with a hitched sound.
“Fuck you feel so good, darling,” he moaned. Your gazes met again, and you wished you could stay like this for eternity. His face was flushed, his back slightly arched, and his mouth agape as he didn’t hold back any sounds anymore.
This only reminded you of the beginning of your relationship, he barely voiced any hints of his pleasure and barely made any sounds whenever you slept with each other, but over the time, he let his walls down and started to be more vocal. This meant the time you were apart didn’t change that factor about him, and you loved it even more. You slightly leaned forward, feeling him deeper inside of you and grabbed his hands to intertwine your fingers, the slightly changed position adding more pleasure to both of you.
You continued to roll your hips and to hold eye contact with him, moaning his name repeatedly. After a while, you pulled him up against you, a soft gasp leaving your mouth as you captured his lips in a heated, passionate kiss, and he wrapped his arms around your waist. You wrapped your arms around his neck and stopped moving for a short moment, enjoying the close and intimate moment between you as you kissed each other. He lifted you from his cock in a quick movement, both of you whimpering at the loss of each other. He rolled on top of you and gently placed you underneath him, your legs on either side of his while he slowly slid into you again and captured your lips in a kiss again. A soft gasp left your lips, and he used the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. He held him up with one arm while the other held you by your hip and thrust into you with a steady, slow pace. He swallowed your moans as he continued kissing you. You gripped on his biceps, leaving crescent marks in his skin and had your eyes shut.
He fastened his pace as he felt you clenching around him.  “I can’t get enough of you, darling,” his voice hitched as his climax neared, “I don’t think I can go much longer.”
Skin slapping against each other, and moans filled the room. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck and placed sloppy kisses on there as his hips snapped against yours. You knew he was getting close to his climax as his movements were getting sloppier. He tried to hold on, wanting to get you close for a second time the night, but it only left him whimpering against your lips as he kissed them.
“You can come inside me, Aemond,” you panted, your eyelids half-lidded as you met his gaze. “Are… Are you sure?” His breath hitched in his throat. He groaned after you nodded and lifted his head, so he could look at you as he thrusts into you once more before you felt his seed filling you up, his cock twitching inside of you.
He had a satisfied expression and moved one hand between your bodies, his thumb rubbing on your clit to get you over the edge as well while he continued to thrust into you. A cry left your mouth, and you pulled his face close to yours.
“Come for me, angel,” he exhaled.
You clenched around him, which caused him to whimper from feeling slightly overstimulated as you came shortly after him all over his cock, your legs shaking and moaning. He continued to pound into you in a slow pace to help you ride out your climax. Both of you tried to catch your breaths from the pleasure you both just felt after months of not feeling it both of you fucked out. With a low whimper, he slowly pulled out of you, and collapsed on top of you, your arms wrapped around him. Both of your bodies were covered in sweat and were heated up, your chests heaving. His face was in the crook of your neck, your fingers gently tracing his back, which caused him to get goosebumps. He occasionally placed soft kisses on your neck while he gently traced the sides of your body. After a while, he got up and helped you to get up, holding you as your legs slightly gave up for a short moment.
“Do you want me to help you clean up?” Aemond asked, a tender tone in his voice, but you shook your head. “You can wait in your bed for me,” you smiled at him affectionally, which he happily returned. He was happy that you would be staying over the night. He gave you his shirt so you could go to the toilet after he made sure you were able to stand. When you came back, he already laid in his bed and waited for you to join him. He pulled the blanket over you and him.
Neither of you said anything and just enjoyed the moment while it lasted, even if it meant you wouldn’t speak about it the next morning and act like you just didn’t have your best sex in a long while. Both of you wrapped your arms around each other as you slowly drifted off to sleep. You and I finally had a good sleep after months again, laying arm in arm felt right. And it was right, was it?
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A soft hum left your lips as you slowly woke up the next morning, feeling completely comfortable but slightly sore. Your eyes immediately opened and widened as you realized where you were and what you did last night with Aemond. Your back was turned towards him with his arm loosely over your waist. You let out a quiet sigh and slowly wiggled yourself out of his grip, trying not to wake him up. After you successfully got out of his bed without waking him up, you noticed that you were wearing his shirt. As you picked up your shirt, you quietly left his bedroom and got dressed after you picked up your panties and pants that were in his living room. You put his shirt on the backrest of his couch as memories from last night flooded your mind. The pleasure you felt, god it was so fucking good. You missed him and how well he always treated you and exactly knew how to get you over the edge quickly, but what if he regretted it? You didn’t want to face him or the situation, you were afraid of what could happen when he would wake up.
You deeply inhaled and made your way to the door to put your shoes back on, took your handbag and were ready to leave without saying goodbye. But you sighed as you grabbed the door handle.
What if this night was a sign for both of you? What if that was the sign that you were ready to be with each other again?
You cursed yourself, took off your shoes again and left your handbag on the floor next to them. You were willing to see what could and would happen as soon as he would wake up. You decided to wait until he did, waiting on his couch. Saying you weren’t nervous would be a lie. While you waited, you paced his living room a few times, thinking about what you could possibly say to him.
You nervously waited almost an hour until you heard noises from his bedroom. He woke up with a low groan and stretched his body, the events from last night filling his mind immediately. He sighed as he opened his eyes, rubbed his good eye and noticed that the side you slept on was already empty. He immediately sat up, and his eye roamed the room, he noticed that your shirt wasn’t on the floor anymore. ‘They already left…’ He thought and groaned as he cursed himself for having possibly ruined the only chance to get back together with you. He wanted to make things right and give you the love you deserved, not like this immediately.
What if the events of last night chased you away from him even further? What if there was no chance left anymore with you?
You fiddled with your fingers and immediately looked up from them as you saw him walking out of his bedroom. He yawned and rubbed his good eye again. Maybe he hasn’t noticed you yet? But as soon as his eye focused on you, he stopped in his tracks. “I… I thought you had already left.”
“I… Well, I was about to leave but…” You stood up from his couch, “But I don’t think this would have been my best option.”
 “Oh… I…” He slowly nodded, considering what to say, and walked into his kitchen, which was connected to his living room. You nervously fiddled with your fingers and followed his movements with your eyes but didn’t move the rest of your body. “I’m glad you didn’t leave,” he mumbled as he made himself a coffee, but you heard him, and a small smile formed on your lips.
“Do you want one as well?” He pointed to his coffee mug, but you shook your head and thanked him for the offer. He poured the coffee into his mug after it was done brewing and then walked up to you.
Both of you sat down next to each other, but there was a tiny distance between you. Neither of you said anything for a moment until he broke the tense silence between you. “Do you… Want to talk about last night?” He spoke softly, the nervousness in his voice was noticeable.
You nodded and turned your gaze in his direction, turning your body towards him, “I think we should.” Aemond inhaled and nodded as well, unsure what to say for a moment before he continued. “Do you regret it?”
“No,” you paused for a moment, “Not at all.” His shoulders relaxed immediately, “Neither do I.”
“Can I be honest with you?” You asked, a hint of nervousness in your voice again. After he nodded, you continued, “I… Uhm… I miss you. I miss us. I know we decided to part ways because of all the things that were going on back then but… I never stopped thinking about you or the time we shared. And last night… Maybe it was a sign? And maybe it was what we needed to realize that we’re ready to be with each other again.”
Aemond didn’t respond immediately, he was quite stunned, but he felt the same and agreed with you completely. He noticed how you continued to fiddle with your fingers and put down his coffee mug to gently lean to you and grab your hands to distract you. The contact calmed you down a little bit. You looked down at your hands as he brushed over the top of your hands with his thumbs. He still knew what calms you down, and you appreciated it a lot.
“I feel the same, darling,” he whispered softly, “I tried to move on, but it was impossible. There was always something missing in my life without you. I couldn’t stop looking at you whenever we hung out with our friends, and I…” He paused, “I still love you. I never stopped loving you, and when I woke up and thought you had already left, I was angry with myself for possibly having ruined any chances with you. You’re… You’re simply the best thing that has happened to me, and I don’t want to lose you entirely.”
You squeezed his hand and looked at him, “Nothing is ruined. I… I never stopped loving you either, Aemond.” You loved him, you always have. Many nights, you’ve found yourself thinking about the rest of your life with him together. How you’d grow old with him, maybe living somewhere peaceful. Together. Maybe you’d have a dog or more than one? Maybe a cat? Or any other animals you could take care of together. Both of you even had thought about adopting a dog or cat together when you were still together. You two already had different name ideas, one of them being Vhagar.
He smiled and scooted closer to you to lean his forehead against yours while he still held your hands tightly and gently. Maybe you were able to have a chance again. “Do you want to give us… Maybe another chance? I… I can’t continue living like this anymore. Every night, I think about you before I fall asleep, and you’re the first thought in the morning when I wake up. Wishing you were in my arms like you always used to. I just… Miss it,” he admitted quietly. His vulnerability was noticeable.
“I’d like to try again,” you smiled while tears built up in your eyes, completely out of happiness. You’ve been hoping for this moment for so long, and now you were sitting here together. Where it all started first because the first kiss you had with him before you were a couple happened in this apartment, on his couch in the same place you sat on currently.
Both of you smiled and fondly looked at one another before you eventually finally leaned in and captured his lips in a slow and tender kiss. He continued to brush his thumb over your hand and hummed into the kiss with a smile. He was truly happy. He pulled you into a hug after you pulled away from each other, stroking your head as he put his on top of yours. You closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around his waist. It was everything you needed, and maybe the break between you was needed to find each other again with a better mindset.
“I missed this,” you whispered after a while. “I missed this too. I missed you,” he admitted and kissed the top of your head. You finally had him back, he was your safe space, and you were his. And you both won’t let the other one go again. No matter what, you’d be able to get through everything together.
286 notes · View notes
firewolf111 · 2 days
Note
Hello!! If you’re still doing these-
Could I maybe have like a Prinxiety one please?
Maybe angst and then a happy-ish ending, like the others are being jerks to Roman in just the canon-ish fashion, and he like gets upset (I headcanon, for example, that sometimes this happens and he goes nonverbal), and Virgil notices and kinda quietly goes to help him calm down? Idk just the first thing that popped into my head, if you do this, do what’s comfortable/what you want‼️
Thank you for reading this!! Have a good day/afternoon/night😁
Thank you for the request! <3
Took me a bit and turned out much longer than planned. But I hope you enjoy!
Also, I based Roman's troubles speaking off of my own experiences, so it may not be perfect.
Roman stands with his hands clasped in front of him. It's a basic meeting to discuss video ideas, yet his hands fidget with each other and he fights the urge to pace. Each flip of the page has him closer to giving in to that urge. The silence is loud, only interrupted by the occasional hum of thought and the flipping of notebook pages. He is on the verge of giving in to the need to break the silence when finally someone speaks.
Logan: None of this is usable.
Roman: *freezing as his blood runs cold* Pardon?
Logan: I said, none of this is usable. Were you too distracted by your frivolous daydreams to listen? That would explain the lack of quality in this work.
Patton: I'm sure it's not that bad.
Silence once again returns as Logan hands the notebook to Patton. Patton flips through it. His expression is one of hesitant disappointment. The truth is in his eyes, though it is clear he is reluctant to admit it. He hands the notebook to Janus, who until then was watching the whole thing with an unamused expression, opting to check his gloves instead of even bothering to look in Roman's direction.
Patton: Hey, Jan? What's your opinion?
A small anger flickers in Roman's chest briefly before sputtering out. He shouldn't be surprised that Patton is asking for Janus's opinion instead of offering his own. It means he can simply agree without having to be the one to break the bad news. It's a familiar dance, though it didn't use to be Janus he would ask, he had become the most common side he'd ask recently. He wishes Patton would just outright tell him he is a disappointment instead of playing the good cop, bad cop game he does.
Janus: Hmmmm. Logan is right. None of these are useful. Best to toss them and start again.
Roman: But-
Janus: There isn't much argument to make. It'd be quicker to just start over than to try and fix these. The viewers do expect a video soon. I doubt you'd want to disappoint them.
Roman: Well, no-
Patton: Well, there we go. Problem solved!
Roman: Hold on-
Logan: I expect the new ideas by the end of the week.
Janus: Well, this was eventful.
Virgil: *glancing between Roman and the others who have began packing their stuff up and preparing to end the meeting* Hold up guys-
Roman: You're not listening to me!
Everyone freezes and looks at him. Surprise quickly gives way to frustration, disappointment, and annoyance.
Logan: Now you don't need to throw a tantrum.
Roman: I'm not throwing a tantrum!
Janus: Mhmmm. Clearly not.
Roman: Well, it's not my fault you guys are out here talking about my ideas when you don't know what it takes to make them. You wouldn't know a good idea if it knocked on your door and introduced itself.
Patton: Now, Roman, let's play nice.
Logan: *scoffing* Clearly, you're the one who doesn't know what a good idea looks like if you think this *Gestures to the notebook* counts.
Roman: Do you know how long I worked on those?
Janus: Hm. Clearly not long enough.
Roman: You stay out of this, snake!
Patton: Roman!
Janus: Well I may be a snake, but you're the one throwing a hissy fit.
Roman: I am not throwing a hissy fit!
Patton: I mean...you kinda are. But that's okay! You're upset that your ideas aren't as good as you expected them to be. Of course, you're upset. But how about we channel that energy into something more productive.
Roman rubs his palms against his pants. Leave it to Patton to treat him like a child. He wants to scream. He wants to cry. He wants to run and hide. He wants to show them what a tantrum really looks like. His eyes remain on Patton's. He doesn't move or speak. He remains quiet, like a good little child.
Virgil: Guys. Don't you think you're being too hard on him? Surely, they weren't that bad.
Roman: Thank you, my violent violet.
Virgil: No problem. Though, don't let your ego get too big. Your singing is still annoying.
Roman: *rolling his eyes* At least I can sing. You sound like a dying cat.
Virgil: *opening his mouth to retort* Oh yeah. Well-
Patton: Roman! Now that was rude. Apologize.
Roman: What?
Patton: You heard me. Apologize.
Logan: And perhaps apologize to the rest of us for the time waste. Especially since you can't seem to be bothered to stay on topic.
Roman: But Virgil-
Patton: No excuses, mister.
Virgil: Guys. It's fine. I'm not at all offended. Besides, I was the one who pulled him off topic.
Logan: That's kind of you, Virgil, but Roman needs to take responsibility for his own actions.
Roman: *sighing* Fine. Virgil. I'm sorry for insulting your singing. I do actually quite like it. And I'm sorry for getting off topic and wasting your time.
Logan: Good. Now, back to the discussion. You are going to have new ideas by the end of the week. Correct?
Roman: But-
Logan: And these ideas will actually be usable and decent?
Roman: *swallowing* Of course, but-
Janus: *scoffing* You might be asking too much of him there, Logan.
Roman: *glancing at Patton, who says nothing*
Logan: Maybe. But does this sound agreeable to you, Roman?
Roman takes a breath before he becomes aware of the fact that his tongue feels like lead. He goes to speak, but only air comes out. He begs, not again, not now.
Logan: Well?
He tries. All he has to do is force the words out. He's done it before. Just force the words out. No matter how hard or uncomfortable. He manages to get his throat to move and his mouth to form the words, yet his vocal cords refuse to work. He can talk. He knows he can talk. He has forced himself through this before. It's all in his head.
Janus: I think you hurt the Prince's feelings and now he's giving us the silent treatment.
Logan: *sighing* Real mature, Roman.
It takes a few times, but he manages to get a few words out
Roman: sor- *he swallows and takes a deep breath* sorry. Was lost in thought.... *he takes another breath* I'll have it done by the end of the week.
Each word feels like it was dragged through his teeth and forced from his mouth, but he got it out. He can speak. He was just being over-dramatic. It doesn't matter if he had to force every word and overthink each syllable. He can speak. He just has to stop faking.
Logan: Good. Glad we figured that out. If that's all, I believe we can finally call this meeting to an end. An actual end this time.*He gives a pointed glare at Roman*
Roman just simply nods. He doesn't think he could argue again even if he wanted to. As everyone leaves, he heads to his room. Too wrapped up in his thoughts and the weight on his tongue, he doesn't notice Virgil's concerned looks as he walks away.
The door gets looked behind him as soon as he is in the safety of his room. He flops onto his bed and curls up into a ball under the blankets. He should start on coming up with new ideas, but he doubts he could focus at that moment. He'll start tomorrow.
The silence sits heavy in his mouth. It weighs down his tongue. He swears he can feel it slipping down his throat and curling up uncomfortablely in his chest. The silence converges on him. It squeezes his head and drills into his ears. It weighs heavy on his shoulders. Silence runs through his blood and veins and he hates it. Hates the way it feels tangible on his skin. He wants to claw the quiet away, to force out the words if only to get rid of this feeling.
He remains in his misery for 5 minutes, though it felt like an eternity, before there is a knock on the door.
Roman opens his mouth to respond, he isn't sure whether "come in" or "go away" would have been what came out, but it doesn't matter as nothing comes out. He exhales and opens his mouth to try again before deciding it isn't worth the energy. He reluctantly stands and opens the door, mentally preparing himself for a lecture from Logan or a "I know you can do better" speech from Patton, or even just some simple mockery from Janus. Yet, what greets him at the door is none of those things. It's Virgil.
Virgil: Do you mind if I come in?
Roman is tempted to turn him away, but he longs for the company to drive away the silence. Especially if it's Virgil. So, instead, he steps back and gestures Virgil in.
Virgil: *entering and watching Roman close the door* Are you okay?
Roman opens his mouth to speak, wanting to assure Virgil he is fine. He just has to force the words out. He can speak. There is nothing keeping him from speaking. He has forced himself out of moments like these before. He just has to speak. Just speak. Force it out. Suffer through it. Just. Speak.
And he almost manages to force out the words before Virgil stops him, realization clear in his face.
Virgil: You're nonverbal right now, aren't you?
Roman shakes his head. Because he isn't. He can talk. He's just being over-dramatic. There are people who are actually nonverbal or semi verbal. He was just being over-dramatic. He can talk, which means it isn't actually him going nonverbal or having a verbal shutdown. He can talk. He can. He just has to force it out. But he can talk.
He opens his mouth to tell Virgil that much when Virgil beats him to it.
Virgil: *opens his mouth, ready to argue before shaking his head* Okay. Do you want to talk right now?
Roman pauses. Was not speaking actually an option? Forcing words out seems like so much energy and it wasn’t the most comfortable. He wouldn't necessarily mind not talking. But would Virgil be okay with that?
Roman: *shrugs*
Virgil: That's okay. You don't have to talk if you don't want to. Do you want me to stay?
Roman: *nodding without hesitation*
Virgil: Okay. Do you want *he holds up one finger* silent company,*he holds up a second* comfort, *he holds up a third one* or a distraction?
Roman: *flips between two fingers and three, torn between the two options*
Virgil: Both comfort and a distraction?
Roman: *nods*
Virgil: Okay. How about we cuddle and watch a movie?
Roman: *considering it for a moment before nodding*
Virgil: Disney?
Roman: *giving him his best "do you even have to ask" look*
Virgil: *understanding the expression and chuckling* Fair enough
It doesn't take long for them to get the movie on and to curl up under the blankets. Roman ends up curled up against Virgil's chest, one of Virgil's hands carding through his hair as the other holds him close. As the intro plays, Roman can feel the heavy weight of silence slip off his skin and he no longer feels the need to force himself to speak. The room is filled with music from the movie. He breathes a deep breath and feels at peace, even if his tongue still remains lead in his mouth. He simply whispers airy whispers beneath his breath as the first song plays. He doesn't bother forcing himself to hum or sing or even bother making the words into something more than a simple breath. He just let's the quiet rest gently on his tongue, and he is at peace.
He doesn't need to speak. Virgil understands.
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friesian · 2 years
Note
HI for the oc music meme, 2 & 3 for marwyd :eyes:
(@commander-winterberry)
OH YOU PICKED THE GOOD ONES. OHOHOHOOooo 2. THEIR PERSONALITY?
this song inspired a WHOLE rp thing me and my friends did. but it's him. it's very much how he interprets himself. and also how he acts to most anyone who isn't in his close circle that gives him the wrong vibes. he's not a good person. nothing will ever make that right!!! 3. THEIR ANGST?
i don't think i need to elaborate on this one.
🚶‍♂️🚶‍♂️🚶‍♂️
(SONG FUCKS SO HARD THOUGH)
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i'm down on my knees, i wanna take you there
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summary: you are suiting up for your first mission, the only problem being everyone "forgot" (intentionally withheld) this information from Logan wc: 2.3k a/n: thank you thank you so much for all of your support about my other Logan fic!! I am really enjoying writing for him, and have a few ideas for this Logan as well as some for Worst!Wolverine aka Deadpool 3!Logan as well! More info about empath!reader's powers and her role at the school in this one <3 warnings: slight (incredibly) slight angst, protective!Logan, a bit of a hurt comfort vibe, Ororo, Scott and Jean are meddlers this is the previous fic with these two, not required reading at all, though!
The leather was cool and surprisingly soft against your skin. There had never been reason for you to have to accompany a mission requiring one of the suits before, and you were shocked at how comfortable the uniform was. Typically, when you were asked to help with a mission, you were there for intel. Scope the place out, get a read on the general vibe of the place. Your powers didn’t provide the same level of protection as laser eyes or a strong regenerative healing factor. You would typically arrive with Rogue, in clothes from your own closet and one of the least fancy cars from the garage. You would slip in, get your read, and get out. 
It wasn’t that you didn’t want to help, you just lacked the training that the other members of the team had. And after all, someone had to stay back to mind things at the school. When Charles had approached you a few months ago about some possible applications for your mutation that would come in handy on missions, you’d been hesitant. It was so outside of your comfort zone to load yourself onto a jet that you’d never even considered the possibility. You were far more comfortable in the library where you held English classes for the students, or helping Charles keep students calm while exploring their powers. Neither scenario included the possibility of a lot of violence. 
Ororo helped you finish zipping yourself into the suit, smoothing her hands along the sleeves before giving you a final nod of approval. Jean and Scott granted you small smiles and you did your best to look as confident as you knew they felt. 
They’d promised it was a simple mission, the kind they usually took students on when Charles felt they were ready to join the team, if that’s what they decided to do after wrapping up their schooling. Charles had heard word of a young mutant who had some kind of telekinetic powers and had recently had an eruption while at school. Everyone agreed that it would be best to find them and convince them to return to the school for some training with as little force as possible, only expedited by the fact that Charles had found them hungry and afraid after running away from home using Cerebro. In the past, the kids had been resistant due to huge amounts of fear, causing them to lash out. You knew they were right that your powers would be useful at times like these, and if you were able to help in any way you were inclined to. 
“The fuck do you think you’re doing to her?” You sighed. It wasn’t that you were all conspiring to keep this a secret from Logan. It wasn’t a discussion that you’d had to agree on group espionage. It just seemed that all of you had a sort of understanding that it might be better to ask forgiveness rather than permission. Not that you needed permission. 
Logan looked furious, and what’s worse, he felt furious. You and Charles had been working to extend your powers over further distances, no longer needing to touch someone directly to know how they feel. Though it certainly doesn’t hurt matters. You’d sensed him upstairs, seemingly pacing around and seething. You’d hoped one of the kids had gotten on his nerves, or something on tv had set him off. You could see that was foolish now. 
“We aren’t doing anything to her,” Scott had his visor on, blocking his eyes from view, but you didn’t need to see to know that he was rolling his eyes. “She’s chosen to accompany us on a mission.” 
“A small mission!” Ororo chimed in, doing her best to give Logan a reassuring smile. 
You checked back in with his aura. Still furious. But it was a nice try, you supposed. Logan’s hackles were raised, his chest heaving. This certainly wouldn’t do. “Can I have a moment with you,” you glanced around the room, briefly meeting the other three mutant’s eyes. “Alone?” 
Logan was still staring daggers at Scott. He wasn’t even the one who suggested you were ready to come along. Jean and Charles had approached you this morning. You laid a hand against his arm, hoping to lead him out of the room, but he flinched away. The pang in your heart was immediate. Did he really think you were so callous that you would ever use your powers without his express permission, or some kind of emergency. You could feel the tears starting to gather in the corner of your eye, your arms wrapping protectively around your midsection. 
Jean slipped one arm through Scott’s and took Ororo’s hand with her other, gently leading them out of the room. “We are going to check a few things with the jet, last minute.” She began to hustle them out of the room. “Call if you need anything!” 
The door shut firmly behind them, and you were left alone with Logan, who looked like he was going to start shaking. “I wasn’t going to-”
“You don’t think I know that?” You can’t help but recoil. You have never been afraid of Logan, even when it may have been in your best judgement to be wary, and you still aren’t. But you can’t deny that it hurts when he snaps at you. Especially when you thought, well. You thought you were growing close. You started to turn away, but before you could, a warm hand caught ahold of your arm. “I’m not… fuck.” He took a heaving breath, shaking his head as if he could clear whatever thoughts were bothering him. “I’m not mad.” 
Despite the serious energy of the conversation, you couldn’t help the incredulous look you shot his way. He tried his best to hide it, but you could see the corner of his mouth turning up at you. “Fine, I’m not mad at you.” 
“You know, you really can’t be mad at anyone, they were just doing-” you were cut off when you fell Logan’s hand traveling down your arm, and pushing your sleeve up gently from where it was covering your hand. He slipped his hand into yours and you felt yourself relax a bit. “Just, take a look, yeah?” 
“Are you sure you want me to?”
“I trust you, bub.” You searched his eyes for any sign of hesitancy, but all you found was trust. Complete and utter trust. You nodded, tightening your own grip on his hand. Doing your best not to let the gentle rub of his thumb against your knuckles distract you, you took a deep breath and opened yourself up to his feelings. 
At first you did feel anger, bright red and hot. You sifted past it, steeling yourself. The first time you had encountered such strong anger, you had felt as if you were going to collapse. But you were stronger now, more prepared to deal with these kinds of feelings. The anger was strong, but also surprisingly shallow. In the depths of his emotions, Logan was worried. Terrified. A deep dark purple that made your own hands shake. His grip on your hand tightened, effectively drawing you back to yourself. There was more, a soft inviting pink that you didn’t dare to touch and shiny bright gold, which told you he was proud. 
You opened your eyes, fighting back the heat you felt creeping onto your cheeks. His expression hadn’t changed, pure trust and tenderness. It should have been disarming, or at the very least surprising. Logan wasn’t so open and honest with people. But the two of you had always had different expectations for the other. 
You couldn’t help it, a smile crept over your features. “You’re proud of me?” 
He rolled his eyes, but his smile only grew. He took your free hand in his, pulling you in closer. “I’m always proud of you.” He hesitated for a brief moment, and you did your best to bite your tongue. You could tell Logan had been making an effort to open up lately, and not just to you, but that didn’t make prolonged silences and easier to bear. “I know it’s not my place to demand anything of you.” 
“You’re my… friend.” You cut him off, wincing at the pause. It didn’t feel like the time to pressure him into labeling whatever feelings may be floating around. “And I always want to hear my friend’s opinions. What’s bothering you so badly?” 
“I could hear your heartbeat from upstairs.” Your eyes grew wide, too shocked to try to school your expression. Logan had told you several times that he had learned to block out his enhanced hearing when he was quite young. Usually to tease you when you got on a long tangent about something you enjoyed. He pretended to zone out and ignore you, but he would always remember small details about your rants, bringing them up nonchalantly at a later date  “I, uh, keep an ear out sometimes. Helps with the worry.” 
He worries about you? Even more surprising, he’s listening to your heartbeat like background music to his day. You promise yourself you will ask him about it when you don’t have a room full of your friends waiting on you. “I thought we’d covered this. I can take care of myself.” 
He sighed, bringing a hand to rest gently where your jaw meets your neck. “Sweetheart, I know you can. But that doesn’t stop me from watching out for you.” 
Your hand moved to rest overtop of his. “The good news is that I will have lots of people watching out for me. You know they won’t let anything happen.” You receive a single huff in return. He’s not convinced. “You know that these are the kinds of missions we send the kids on. I’ll be fine.” 
He considers for a moment, before dropping his hand and nodding. “Give me a second to get changed, and we will head out.” 
You grabbed for his hand, but he was already out the door, and moving too fast for you to stop. “Logan, don’t be ridiculous.” 
“What’s ridiculous is you thinking that I would ever let you go out there alone.” 
“As we already established, I have three very capable friends coming with me. I am only going as a contingency plan.”
“Well then consider me the contingency to the contingency plan.” You huffed, following him next door. 
You darted around in front of Logan, pushing against his chest with all your strength, even if you were fully aware that it was the equivalent of a fly buzzing around him. He stopped all the same, eyebrows pulled together in frustration. “I know you’re worried and I know that this is you trying to help.” Logan had his I’m about to interrupt you look on his face, leaving you to shove him again. Thankfully, he understood your intention. “This is important to me. You can’t be there every time, and I have to stand on my own two feet. I want to contribute to the work we do here more than just teaching kids about how awesome Shakespeare is.” The look was back. “Which is still an important contribution.” You added, which seemed to appease him. “But, I don’t want it to be my only contribution. So I am going to go and make sure that this scared kid who is all alone out there makes it back here safe. And you are going to stay here and make sure that everyone gets dinner and help with their assignments. And then when I get back, we are going to have a talk about all this.” 
“All this?” A smile crept back onto your face, hearing the teasing tone in his voice. 
“Oh my god shut up!” He caught your hands before they made contact with his chest, but he was slow to let go this time. He brought the back of both of your hands to his mouth, dropping a small kiss on each one, before returning your hands to your side. 
“If you come back with so much as a bump to the head, Scott’s dead.” 
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, and pointing out that this was exactly what you were talking about earlier did little to sway him. So you gave in, agreeing to give him a full report before slipping your hand into his and tugging him towards the jet. 
“We’ll be back in a bit.” You promised. You could feel the others staring from just inside the jet, but you barely noticed. Logan was checking over your suit meticulously, tugging zippers a few more clicks up and making sure that the collar wasn’t too tight around your neck. He kneeled down, checking to make sure the laces on your boots were double knotted. “Logan,” you laughed, reaching down to tilt his head up to look at you. “I’m too seconds away from sending a lot of exhaustion your way and leaving you passed out in here. You have to let me go, it’s going to be fine.” 
He remained kneeling for a second too long, a look in his eyes you couldn’t entirely place. The sound of the jet powering on broke the both of you out of your trance. He was on his feet in a flash, checking over you one final time. You rose up on your tippy toes, balancing by resting your hands on his shoulders, before gently kissing him on the cheek. You pulled back, nose scrunched up from the tickle of his facial hair. “We’ll be back in a few hours. Hold down the fort for us, yeah?” 
He nodded, pupils slightly blown out and a dreamy look on his face. You giggled, walking backwards for as long as you can before turning around and finding a seat on the jet. You could feel Jean and Scott’s eyes on you as Ororo began maneuvering the jet out of the garage. “Don’t even start.” You muttered, settling firmly into your seat, doing your best to soak up the pride and confidence the others were projecting into the cockpit. 
as always, feedback is so appreciated! if you have any requests for these two/wolverine in general, please leave them here!
next part
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briefinquiries · 25 days
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Tyler Owens x Reader: Read Between the Lines
Request: anonymous said: "I was wondering maybeeee if you could write some protective bf Tyler ( because i would be swooning ) maybe either someone keeps hitting on her so he steps in or someone maybe in another storm chasing crew is being mean so he steps in and defends her <3 idk"
Word count: 3.9k
Warnings: language, mild fighting i guess?? slight angst
A/N: sorry I haven't been posting as frequently! I started work up again and ya girl has been BUSY. Anyyywayyy, thank you for reading! please keep the comments coming! I love to see all your requests and I promise i'm getting to them as quickly as i can :)
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“Need anything?” Tyler asked, leaning against the hood of the truck in a way that shouldn’t be as adorable as it is. 
“I’m good,” you said, offering him a gentle smile before brushing a few loose strands of hair from your sticky forehead. 
“You wanna come in with me then?” 
You shook your head– the idea of sitting in a stale diner with no AC was just about as unbearable as the thought of driving another second. “No, I think I’ll stretch my legs out here.”
“Okay,” he said in a tone that indicated you’d be missing out. He gave the truck a pat before adding, “We won’t be long.”
“Take your time,” you assured him. 
He offered one final nod before turning and following Dani, Boone, and Lily across the parking lot. Dexter also stayed behind. Instead of shitty diner food, he’s opted to take a nap inside the RV accompanied by his noise canceling headphones and a fan blasting right at his face. 
You were exhausted, down to your bones. You and the rest of the team had driven nearly six hours that day tracking a cell that hadn’t ended up amounting to anything. You were stiff and tired and irritable– just like everyone else. But you hoped that some time alone outside might help at least level out your mood.
You extended your arms over your head, groaning when you felt something lightly pop in your back, before craning your neck from side to side. The air was stifling– thick and humid with little to no breeze for any sort of relief. The heat hadn’t broken in nearly a week, and unfortunately for just about everyone, the truck’s AC didn’t work as well as it used to. 
The parking lot to the diner was relatively empty. Aside from the crew’s RV and truck, there was an SUV parked in one of the front spots and a small sports car with a steady cloud of smoke pouring out the cracked window.  
You let your eyes wander past the diner parking lot at the sprawling field across the road. The windmills were agonizingly still in the stale air– like even they were desperate for some reprieve. 
Your eyes fell shut as you took a few deep breaths, trying to get your bearings. 
Your peace lasted for about thirty seconds. And then the sound of blaring music and screeching tires had you turning your pulsing head. Instantly, you rolled your eyes at the sight of the familiar vans pulling into the lot beside you. 
Merrill Anderson and his crew started chasing in the area almost thirteen months ago. You knew because each and every moment that you’d known about their existence had been more painful than the last. 
Anderson was a meteorologist out of Texas that wore a cowboy hat almost as big as his mouth and an inflated ego to match it. He made sure you and everyone else around him knew that he had a PhD, and therefore, in his opinion, was automatically more entitled to chase. Him and Tyler had hated each other from the moment they met while chasing an EF2 in Arkansas– their feud only grew each time their paths crossed. 
Anderson was grinning at you through the window as soon as his van rolled by. You did your best to avert your gaze– hoping that lack of eye contact would avoid any sort of conversation. 
Unfortunately, you weren’t so lucky. 
“There she is,” he announced, boots scuffing against the dirt parking lot as he hopped out from the driver’s seat. 
“Now what're you doin’ out here all by yourself? Your team finally leave you behind? Realized they didn’t need two uni drop outs on their team?” he asked, tone already dripping in sarcasm. 
He was an antagonizer who got off on provoking others. And although you and Anderson had your fair share of unpleasant exchanges, you knew he only ever bothered you to get under Tyler’s skin. 
Tyler’s biggest weakness was that he was endlessly protective of the people he loved. You saw this particular trait as a strength– but you knew that Anderson fed off Tyler's anger, which you could only imagine was his intention now. Thankfully Tyler was in the diner– hopefully gorging on raspberry pancakes as you spoke. Because if he were to see Anderson talking to you– you knew this whole interaction would escalate quickly. 
“Anderson,” you sighed, leaning casually against the hood of Tyler’s truck. The smile you forced on your face was almost painful. “So lovely to see you, as always.”
You hoped if you withheld from his taunting, he might move on quicker. 
Instead, to your despair, he backtracked from his van to stand across from you. “You guys go ahead,” he instructed his crew. “I’m gonna spend some time with my friend here.”
They nodded before heading towards the diner, leaving the two of you alone. 
“You should teach that hillbilly- boyfriend of yours some manners. If I remember correctly, last time I saw him, he drove through a puddle to splash me.”
You bit back a grin as you recalled the moment he was referring to. “I’m sure it wasn’t on purpose,” you lied (it was absolutely on purpose). 
Anderson chuckled. “You know– I don’t know if we’ve ever had a conversation just us, without him lingering around. You’re much more pleasant. Both in conversation and in looks.” 
You felt a chill run down the length of your spine at his words– but the way he was looking at you was infinitely worse. You watched as his eyes flickered from your face to your chest– currently more exposed than you would like in the tanktop you wore in the stifling Oklahoma heat. You wished you had grabbed a shirt to cover up in– but they were all either dirty and packed away somewhere in your duffel. 
Clearing your throat, you stood up straight and crossed your arms, attempting to shield yourself from his lingering gaze. 
“Oh, hey now darlin’, don’t cover up. I’ve been stuck in the van all day with these jokers, this is the most action I’ve gotten all summer.” 
You could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks as you tried desperately to remain level headed. Anderson was a jerk– and he’d definitely make you uncomfortable… but you couldn’t imagine that he’d ever actually do anything to harm you.  
Then again, you’d never interacted with him for longer than a minute or two with Tyler and the rest of the crew at your side. This was uncharted territory that you didn’t care to explore. You felt your earlier determination to handle him on your own fade away with uneasiness.  
You turned your head towards the diner, hoping you might catch Tyler’s gaze through the window or something. Of course you were too far away for that– all you caught was the glare from the sun. 
“You know I’m not used to seeing you in clothes like this, usually you’re all covered up,” Anderson whistled. 
As soon as he took a step closer, you instinctively moved too. Except your legs collided with Tyler’s truck– preventing you from actually going anywhere. For some dumb reason, you felt obligated to hold your ground– to not let him see how uncomfortable he was really making you. But with each passing comment, you grew more and more fearful. 
Anderson now had his body angled towards you with a look that could only be described as predatorial. “God, it’s true you don’t know what you’re missin’ til you see it. We should have these heat waves more often if it means I get to take a look at this every day.”
You tried and failed to remain stoic. You wanted to yell– to tell him to shut the fuck up. But for some reason, your body and brain weren’t connecting. 
“C’mon, where is she?” he taunted. “You know, your sweet side has its perks. But I much prefer ‘em a little spicy.” 
He took another few steps closer to you. It was subtle, but you noticed. Anderson was so obviously getting a kick out of whatever the hell he was doing here, and you were doing a piss-poor job at withholding from it, like you’d originally planned. 
“Why don’t you come on back in my van with me,” he winked. “I’m not sure how your hillbilly does it, but I can show ya a real good time.” 
Get away from me, you wanted to scream. But your mouth wouldn’t move– your voice was lost somewhere inside of you. And all you could get your body to do was lean away from him slightly. 
“Don’t be like that, darlin’,” he cooed. He was so close that you could almost smell his breath. Your brain told you to fight– to shove or kick or do something to get him away from you. But all those previous instincts you had to fight back faded into paralyzing fear. 
Anderson reached across the space between you to move a loose strand of hair from your face as you began to tremble. “And don’t be afraid, baby doll. I don’t bite… too hard. Owens ain’t gotta know–”
“Anderson!” 
Your head snapped at the sound of a familiar voice… Not just any familiar voice– Tyler’s voice. He was currently storming across the parking lot with a look of pure hatred across his face. The second his eyes landed on you– undoubtedly and obviously terrified, that anger only intensified. 
“Get the fuck away from her,” he demanded. His eyes were narrowed and shockingly darker than their normal shade of sage. 
“Here he is!” Anderson taunted. “Her douche bag in shining armor.”
You couldn’t help but notice Anderson didn’t step away. In fact, if anything, he looked like he was about to step closer, just to really test his limits. But then, to your relief, you saw Boone, Dani, and Lily storming out of the diner in Tyler’s wake– all coming to your rescue. 
In an instant, Tyler was there, stepping between you and Anderson– forming the protective barrier you needed to finally feel safe again. Without thinking, you fisted the back of Tyler’s T-shirt for good measure. 
“Easy, Rambo,” Anderson sneered. “I was just tellin’ your sweetheart here how much I enjoy her new look. Who knew she had all this hidin’ under those baggy shirts? That the reason you keep her hangin’ around, Owens? I knew she had to be good for something–”
But Anderson didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence. Because before you knew what was happening, Tyler was lunging forward and connecting his fist with Anderson’s nose. 
The crack as it broke was deafening, you released Tyler’s shirt to cover your mouth in shock. Tyler hit him with enough force that he went staggering back a few steps, his hands instantly moving to cup his face. 
Tyler was still shaking off his hand when Anderson stood up straight, blood pouring out of both nostrils. 
“Damn, that bitch must be as good as she looks if she’s worth all this,” Anderson continued to taunt. Even with a broken nose, he didn’t back down.  
Without even hesitating, Tyler moved to strike again. But as soon as he did, Boone and Dani were both stepping in front of him to break things up. 
“Easy, T–” Boone said. 
“Stay the fuck away from her,” Tyler snarled in warning, pointing his finger over Boone’s shoulder. You’d never quite heard his voice so malicious or threatening before, and even though it was in your defense, it sent shivers down your spine.   
Suddenly, Lily grabbed your hand from the side, causing you to flinch. “It’s okay,” she said, tugging you a few steps away from the chaos– like she knew how badly you needed space from everything. “You alright?”
You nodded, flustered.  
“Next time you want to settle this without your little army of strays, you let me know, Owens. And next time you want a good time, Y/N, you know where to find me,” Anderson said, offering you a wink that churned your stomach. With that, he wiped some blood from his nose and began sauntering back towards his van. 
“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” Tyler snarled, still being physically held back by Dani and Boone. 
“Yeah, and he’d deserve it. But he’s not worth catchin’ a charge,” Boone said. “It’s been a slow season and we don’t got the kind of money to bail you out of jail.”
“Take a breath, T,” Dani said. “He’s walkin’ away. Take a breath.”
You watched Tyler slowly come back to his body. He listened to Dani and took a deep breath– his shoulders visibly relaxing when he exhaled. It seemed to be enough for his friends to finally release him. 
As soon as he was free from their grasp, Tyler turned around– his attention landing on you. “Are you okay?” he asked, his previously menacing voice now laced with so much care and concern. He stood in front of you– his body blocking all views of Anderson and their vans. His hands moved to cup your cheeks gently. 
“I’m fine,” you said, attempting to convince yourself more than anyone else. But even you knew it didn’t sound convincing. Your voice subtly cracked on the final word. 
Tyler stroked his thumb along your skin. The look on his face told you he didn’t quite believe you as his eyes flickered down to your trembling hands. Thankfully he didn’t ask more. 
“I gotta say that was a nasty right hook, T,” Boone said, clapping Tyler on the back as he approached. “I didn’t know you had it in ya.”
“What’d that asshat say to you?” Lily asked. “You looked really shaken up when we saw you out the diner window.”
“Nothing,” you mumbled, too embarrassed to repeat his taunts. You were shocked by how self-conscious you suddenly felt with everyone’s eyes on you. Anderson’s previous words had made you incredibly aware of every inch of yourself– like there was an electrical current humming underneath the surface of your skin. 
“Just the usual shit,” you tried to brush it off.  
You felt grateful when they didn’t push. 
Eventually, the crew disassembled– everyone focused on getting their stuff together to hit the road again. Anderson didn’t reemerge from his van, but as you sat idly in the passenger seat of Tyler’s truck, you didn’t take your eyes off from where it was parked– like you were anticipating some sort of retaliation. 
You remained hidden from the team– feeling so awkward and uncomfortable– like you didn’t want to be perceived or noticed by anyone. And you hated that Anderson’s words were the ones to make you feel that way. You couldn’t find any shirts in your duffel bag that weren’t disgusting. And currently you didn’t have the time or patience to dig through your second bag in the RV. So instead, you wrapped your arms awkwardly over your chest, trying to make yourself as small as possible just as Tyler climbed into the front seat. 
“Everyone else is riding in the RV, it’s just us,” he said, eyes lingering on you. 
“Okay,” you said, trying your best to sound casual. You wondered if he ordered everyone in the RV so that you’d feel more comfortable. You made a mental note to thank him for that later, he was always so good at reading between the lines.  
Tyler instantly noticed your uneasiness. “Baby, what’d he say to you?” 
You shrugged, refusing to meet his gaze out of sheer embarrassment. “I mean, I think you caught the gist of it at the end there… Just a lot of that.”
You heard his loud exhale. “Just say the word and I’ll barge into that stupid van and kill him right now.”
The corner of your lip tugged into a small smile. “I just want you to stay here,” you admitted. 
He nodded solemnly. Without another word, Tyler passed you something he had scrunched up in his fist. It was one of his T-shirts– like he knew you wanted to cover up without even having to say it. You took the shirt– the thanks you wanted to offer him remained stuck in your throat, but Tyler didn’t seem to mind. 
Instead, he pretended to fiddle with the radio while you silently slipped the shirt on. Almost instantly, you felt like you could relax underneath the fabric of his clothes. 
You curled your arms around yourself and tucked your knees to your chest. When Tyler asked if you were ready to head out, you nodded without another word. 
It was only seven when you arrived at the motel. Tyler went into the lobby to book the rooms while everyone else hung back. Boone and Lily were going on and on about using the pool later that night, but once you’d grabbed your bags from the truck, you sort of tuned it all out. 
Tyler found you sitting on the curb once he’d passed out everyone else’s room keys. He picked up your duffel from the ground before speaking for the first time in almost an hour. 
“You ready for bed?”
You nodded, offering him your best attempt at a convincing smile.  
“C’mon,” he motioned his head to the left. “We’re upstairs.”
Tyler led the way to your room– and even though this was a dingy motel, you’d never seen anything more perfect. The shades were dark, the AC worked, and there was a single, plush-looking queen bed in the middle of the room just screaming your name. 
Tyler let you shower first. And when you emerged from the bathroom, all the sweat and grime finally washed from your skin, he was gone. But in his place, he’d laid out one of his T-shirts and a pair of his boxers on the bed for you to use. You almost teared up at the sight of just how thoughtful he was… Still reading between the lines. 
You’d spent the entire duration of your shower trying to convince yourself that what had happened earlier wasn’t that big of a deal. Anderson was a jerk– of course he was going to say some jerk-ish things. It shouldn’t have been a surprise– and yet, you couldn’t shake the discomfort you felt. It was like all the words he’d said to you had nestled underneath your skin and made a home for themselves. 
In an attempt to shake the thoughts away, you quickly shrugged on Tyler’s clothes before sitting on the edge of the bed and wrapping your arms around yourself. 
Almost as soon as you sat down, you heard the front door to the motel open up. Tyler stepped into the room carrying his own bag and a couple of water bottles he must’ve grabbed for the two of you. 
“Better?” he asked, handing you one. 
You nodded and cracked it open. “Much.”
Tyler sighed before joining you on the edge of the bed. “Baby, are you sure you’re okay?” 
“I-” you started and then stopped. Your hands were shaking, but you jumped when you felt Tyler’s hand close around yours, steadying them. His touch gave you just an ounce of courage to speak. 
“It wasn’t even anything that bad–” you admitted. “I meant it earlier, you heard the worst of it… I just, I don't know, I can't explain it. But everything he said made me feel so gross… and dirty, and…” And, well, you didn’t quite know what else. Words were hard to come by tonight. 
“Oh, baby,” Tyler exhaled. He released your hand to wind his arm around your shoulders, tugging you to his chest instead.  
It wasn’t until he shushed you that you even realized you were crying, but it came out in a rush. You clung to him, instantly impressed by his ability to just make you feel so much safer. 
“I’m sorry,” you said. 
“You don’t have to be sorry,” he assured you, only squeezing tighter. 
“I don’t know why this bothered me so much–” 
“Because Anderson is an asshole and he intentionally said some gross shit to shake you up,” he answered for you. “You’re allowed to be upset by that.” 
You exhaled against his shirt, and when you licked your lips, you tasted salt. 
“I’m the sorry one,” he said. 
“What?” you shook your head. “You don’t have to be sorry–”
“I should have been there.”
“You were there,” you reminded him. “Unless I blacked out or something and I was really the one who punched him in the nose…”
Tyler chuckled softly, you felt the vibration against your chest– instantly soothing you. 
You sighed after a moment, trying to decide if you wanted to share what was really bothering you. You bit the inside of your cheek. It was so tempting to keep it to yourself, but more tempting than that was the idea of finally feeling a little more at ease again after just telling Tyler the truth. 
“I just–” you paused again. “I–” 
“Hey,” he said. You looked up at him briefly. “It’s just me.” 
That was the problem– it was Tyler. And you didn’t want Tyler thinking less of you because of what had happened. 
“I didn’t fight back,” you said quietly. “I just froze up– it was like I couldn’t even think straight. And he kept going and going, and I just stood there– taking it.”
Tyler ran his hand up and down your arm reassuringly. “What are you talking about?”
“It just felt like…” your voice tapered off. 
Tyler waited a moment before asking gently, “Like what?” 
“It just felt like I didn’t do anything to stop it,” you whispered so quietly you weren’t even sure he’d heard you. “Like I let it happen.”
“Baby,” Tyler sighed. “Baby, no. Anderson is such a jackass, it wouldn’t have mattered what you said–”
“But I could have told him to get the fuck away from me–”
“You were just trying to keep yourself safe. Baby, we can’t control how we react when we’re scared. It’s fight or flight–”
“Or freeze,” you mumbled, embarrassed. 
“Or freeze. I’m pretty sure fawning is one too, now,” he said. “But it doesn’t matter– what matters is you can’t control that you froze. Just like–”
“Just like you couldn’t control punching him in the face?” you asked. 
You glanced up just in time to see Tyler’s lips tug into a smile. “Exactly,” he said. 
“I just wish my fear reaction was a little more effective,” you pouted. “Freezing didn’t do much.”
You let your eyes fall shut when Tyler tugged you closed to his chest. “I guess it’s a good thing you have a douchebag in shining armor to come help whenever you need it,” he smirked. 
“Thanks for protecting me,” you said quietly. 
“I’ll always protect you, you know that,” he said, planting a soft kiss on the top of your head. 
You smiled against his chest. You really did know that. “And thanks for punching him in the nose.”
Tyler snorted. “Anderson’s had that coming for a long time.”
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monzabee · 2 months
Text
the smallest man who ever lived - cl16
masterlist || part 2 || part 3 ||
Summary: The one where you’re thrown into a conundrum when you learn the news of your husband, Charles’, infidelity.
Pairing: charles leclerc x wife!reader; carlos sainz x reader
Word Count: 4.5k
Warnings: angst, cheating, crying, manipulation(?), charles is an absolute asshole (but so is the reader) (but she’s kinda also badass?) (toxic relationship?), even more assholish carlos (gasp), blackmail, mention of pregnancy, mention of sex and sexual acts, physical confrontation (literally just pushing someone off but still)
Request: “Hey girl can I request something angsty with Charles? Maybe Charles cheating on Y/N (we’re already famous and have been married to Charles for years) and the fighting, the finding out, his guilt, angst, etc.”
Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! thank you to the anon who requested this because i had the time of my life working on it, and it might be the first fic i wrote in one go for the last six months or so!! also thank you to the getting cheated on playlists i found on spotify and amy dunne for giving me the inspiration to make the reader as toxic as i could. special thanks to @norrisleclercf1 and @percervall who had to listen to me talk about this fic NONSTOP. this is definitely something very different to what i usually write, but i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee
Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 
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There are moments in life where you feel like a complete and utter idiot. Although it could be for no apparent reason at all, there is a perfectly explainable reason why you feel like that right now, in the middle of your trailer on the set, with your manager and publicist both looking at you like you could explode at any given moment. It took you a good amount of time to wrap your head around the news, the news that wrecked you into a million of pieces which left you as the only person who can put them back together.  
“Let me get this straight,” you start, still trying to wrap your head around the news, “they were photographed leaving the club, and there’s a–?” 
“Sex tape, yes.” Your manager mumbles, earning himself a side-eye from your publicist. “It was so kindly attached to the email.”  
“And it is anonymous?” You ask, earning curt nods from both. “Well,” you manage to get out, pressing your lips together not to let out a sob, or a laugh, both? “That is very ambitious of him.” 
Your publicist shares a concerned look with your manager, then turns to you, “I guess so? How would you want us to handle this? I can buy us some time until these are released to public, but I think getting a statement ready just in case is essential given the fact that both of you are public figues. We can say that you’ll attend marriage councelling–” 
Your loud laugter cuts her off in the middle of her sentence. “And just why would we do that?” 
“I–” She gives you another concerned look as she softens her voice, which is quite uncharacteristic for her, you realise. “How would you want us to approach it then?” 
“I don’t want you to approach it at all.” You voice cuts through the tension, your gaze fixed on her. “I’ll handle it.”  
“But Charles–” She tries to reason, but you cut her off again.  
“Decided to get his dick wet where it certainly didn’t belong, he’s a big boy – he’ll survive.” Fixing her with a final look, you turn to your manager instead. “I don’t want this going to Charles or his team’s ears, that’s what the email said, and we should honour it, no?”  
His expression turns into a smirk, matching the one playing on your lips as he nods in thougt, “Would you like us to do anything else? We can talk with the production if you need a couple of days to… well, recuperate. Greta would understand.” 
“No.” Your answer is final as you shake your head. “She thinks this is an Oscar worthy project, I’m not throwing it away because my husband decided to think with his dick and not his brain. Just call my lawyers and tell them to be on stand by.” 
“Should I also book you tickets to Monaco still?” He asks in a monotone tone. 
“Well of course,” you reply in a sweet voice, widening your eyes for dramatic effect, “it’s a family event.” 
Your publicist eyes the both of you, “Okay,” as she drags the word out, “are you sure you don’t want to take a couple of days off?” 
“Positive. I have an EGOT to win.” Raising the script you have in your hands in the air, you announce, “I have lines I need to go over, is that all?”  
And as they leave your trailer to give you some space to ‘go over your lines’, you let a few tears escape your eyes, promising yourself that you would make Charles feel a thousand worse what he made you feel in the moment. 
It is not surprising or a sudden revelation that Monte Carlo has good weather all year around. But as it happens with the last few weeks following you learning about your husband’s infidelity, all you feel is cold – and no amount of warm weather is enough to make your heart feel warmer again. As you stand at the terrace of Café de Paris, overlooking the cityscape of Monte Carlo, all you can think about is how you just want to get this part of you plan over with as fast as possible.  
“Chérie!” The voice you hear makes a lump perpetually situate itself in the middle of your throat, but you brace yourself for the worst as you turn on your heels to face the person you’re most scared of facing in this whole situation. “Look at you, you look incroyable! You had me scared when you told me you were catching the redeye, and that we just had to talk!” 
“Pascale,” you breathe out as the woman pulls you into her arms with the warmness of any mother would do, and for that brief moment, you feel better than you have in weeks. “It’s so nice to see you again,” giving her the warmest smile you can muster up in the circumstances as you pull back, fixing your gaze at the figure behind her as you nod your head in acknowledgement, “Arthur.” 
“Maman is right,” Arthur says as he opens his arms, “you do look good.”  
“Well, thank you.” You reply as you give him a quick hug, and motion the table as you pull back. “Shall we?” Call it common curtesy, or cowardice, the fact that you don’t directly get to the point. Either way, you talk about what you’ve missed in the couple of months in which you’ve been away filming. You’re not necessarily paying attention, though the endtail of Pascale’s sentence catch your attention. “Excuse me, can you repeat that?” 
“Well, I was just telling how sad I was that Charles doesn’t come home as often this season. Though I understand he’s coming out to see you on set, distance can be so hard even for–” 
“He’s not coming out to see me, Pascale.” You voice is softer, and appears more broken than you would want it to be, but your words convey the message enough. It takes you a couple of moments to organise your thoughts, and Arthur calling out your name, to get you back into the moment. “There’s something I need to talk with the both of you, something I’ve already talked with Lorenzo, but I thought it would be better for you to hear it from me.”  
“Okay?” Arthur mumbles, then gives you a supportive smile, “You can tell us anything. Though don’t tell me I’m about to be an uncle because I don’t think my ego can take it at the–” 
You attempt to swallow the lump in your throat as you direct your words to the woman sitting across from you. “I’m divorcing your son, and I thought you should hear it from me and not him.”  
It takes a few minutes for both Pascale and Arthur to say something, and it concerns you that you somehow managed to give your mother in law a brain aneurism, but eventually, she manages to get out, “What? How? Why? Are you okay?”  
“I’m… fine.” You reply, albeit it comes off calculated. “I found a couple of weeks ago that he was cheating on me, I’ve came back to give him the papers myself.”  
“He what?” Arthur exclaims, then realises the level of his voice, and lowers it down as he asks, “Are you sure this is not a misunderstanding? The guy has been in love with you for over a decade, he wouldn’t do this.” With a resigning sigh, you find what you’re looking for in your phone and hand it over to Arthur. Who then, upon seeing what you have pulled up, immediately hands it back to you and turns to his mother, “Trust me you don’t want to see it.” 
“I’ve came to tell you the news, and well, to apologise.” You turn to face Pascale again.  
“Apologise?” She repeats, “Why on earth would you apologise to me when my son cheated on you?” 
“You’ve been nothing but kind to me ever since we’ve met, both of you.” You acknowledge Arthur with a look, and then focus your attention back on the woman, “Though I will make sure you don’t get caught in the crossfire in any way, I wanted to apologise for what I’m about to put your son through.”  
You honestly don’t know how you manage to act as if everything has been going fine in your life during race day. Given the fact that your husband doesn’t expect you to be at his race due to your rigorous filming schedule, and his family members being willing to hide your existence from him, you have no obstacles in your way to carry out the rest of your plan in motion. Which is exactly why you’re sat in the dark, waiting for your husband to walk through the doors of your apartment overlooking the city. With you seemingly being absent for the weekend, he has no reason to not believe that he is coming to an empty house.  
So, imagine his surprise when he enters his home; with his girlfriend in his arm, no less, and sees his wife sitting on the couch with her legs crossed and a drink in her hand. The look on his face is priceless, and despite all the pain and frustration you’re feeling, it manages to bring you some semblance of joy, knowing that it’s going to hurt him just as much as it hurt you.  
“Ma chérie,” Charles stammers, eye wide as he looks at you like a deer caught in headlights, “I – I didn’t know y–you were coming back this weekend.” 
“Well obviously,” you scoff, taking a generous sip from the drink in the glass tumbler in your hand, “otherwise you wouldn’t bring your little girlfriend into my house to fuck her.” You hear a gasp from the scaredy brunette wedging herself closer to your husband’s side, and for the first time you take a good look at her – young, much younger than you, tall, leggy; all the telltale signs that she is exactly your husband’s type. Tilting your head to the side, you rest the glass on the arm of the armchair you’re sitting in, “If you could leave now, I would greatly appreciate it.”  
You hear Charles whisper something in her ear, probably telling her to leave and that he’ll contact her tomorrow, and watch as she gives him a scowl, screeching, “You’re just going to let her throw me out?” 
“Well, considering the fact that this is my house, yes.” You give her a look of pity, watching her face light up with anger.  
“Listen to me, you bitch–” She starts, but your husband quickly cuts her off.  
“Mon cœur!” He exclaims, “S'il te plaît!” 
“Yes, listen to him, like a good little girl,” you egg her on, a smirk widening on your lips as you start swinging the leg resting on your lower one, choosing to focus on your nails instead of your husband trying to soothe his lover. 
You hear her scoff, take a few steps as her heels click on the marble floor of the entrance, “I wouldn’t be so calm if I were you, I’m not someone you want to be on bad terms with, considering the fact that he’s going to leave you for me!” 
“Oh, honey,” you coo, focusing your attention back on her and seeing the look of concern in your husband’s face through the corner of your eye, “and when did he tell you that, like a year ago? Two? Three?” A realisation dawns on her face as the smug expression starts to fade. “Don’t worry, though, you can have him when I’m done with him.” Pushing yourself off the armchair, you down the rest of the drink in the glass before slamming it down onto the glass coffee table. “And not only do I not care if you think I'm a bitch, but I hugely prefer it. Now get the fuck out of my house before I call security and get your ass thrown out.”  
You watch as she looks at Charles with indignation, lets out another screeching sound and slams the door behind her as she stomps out of your apartment. Only then you turn your gaze back to your husband, who has the guts to look at you with a worried look on his face. “How long have you known?” Is the first thing he asks you, taking a few steps closer.  
“A couple of weeks, a month, maybe?” You answer him, leaving your place to get to the small bar in the corner of your living room to get another refill of your drink. “There’s a video of the two, it somehow got into my hands, and it has very graphic details of the two of you having sex.” Popping a lemon into your cup, you make your way back to the armchair and sit down, “Are you stupid enough to cheat on me and make a fucking sex tape, Charles?” 
“I-I didn’t mean to–” He tries to plead, but you cut him off with a shake of your head.  
“You didn’t mean to what?” You ask him; your voice soothing, almost understanding, and it does the job of fooling him. “Cheat on me? Fuck another woman in my bed? Break the vows you’ve made?”  
“Ma chérie,” he whispers, “please.” 
“No.” Your voice is colder all of a sudden. “Tell me how long this has been going on for. Was I right? How many years?” 
“It started five years ago,” his voice is soft, somber and he tries to appear as genuine as he can in the situation, you suppose, “but I knew her, from before...” 
“Before what?” You’re seething now, the complete opposite of his calmness, “Did you fucking cheat me when we were dating, Charles?” 
“Ma chérie,” he gives you another pleading look, “please, I can change. I’ll go to therapy.”  
Now that, manages to get a bark of laughter from you. It’s ripped from the back of your throat, making you throw your head back as you lose yourself in the laughter to the point that there are tears in your eyes when you finally manage to calm yourself down. Putting the glass down on the coffee table once again, you wipe them off, mindful of your mascara, as you shift your attention back onto your husband. “Are fucking kidding me right now?” He gives you a concerned look, hands on his hips as he opens his mouth to answer you, but you quickly shut him down again. “You were bringing her into my house to fuck her, I caught you, I have your fucking sex tape – which is going to be streamlined for the world to see within twenty-four hours, do you honestly think I would go back to you?”  
“Wait, what?” He exclaims, looking at you with wide eyes and a shocked expression. “What do you mean they are going to streamline it, why didn’t you go to the lawyers? 
“I did go to the lawyers,” you shrug, innocently, “my lawyers,” you point out. “Why would I cover up your mistakes after everything you’ve done?” 
“Because I’m your fucking husband!” He barks, his arms widening to his sides as he finally loses his mask and his composure.  
His little tantrum only makes you let out another laugh, “Now, you’re my husband? Not when you’re cheating on me when I’m away shooting, but when you need me to clean up after your mistakes?” 
“How did you even get the video?” He asks, eyes narrowing down, “Who- who– who?” 
“Who? Who? Hoo? What are you, a fucking owl?” You exclaim, this time raising your voice. “You’re honestly more concerned about where I got it and not about the fact that the entire world is about to see you fucking someone other than your wife?” 
“What are we doing to do?” He asks, “Fuck, I have a race tomorrow.” 
“We’re not going to do anything.” You shrug, leaning forward to grab the glass and take another sip, “Or scratch that, we’re actually going to do something.” You stand up from the armchair, walk towards the table and hand him the file. “Congratulations, we’re getting a divorce.” 
“That is not happening.” He scoffs, not even bothering to look at the papers.  
“I don’t think you’re in the position to bargain with me, Charles.” You seethe, “You’re going to sign the damn papers, and you’re also going to sign away your rights to the baby.”  
“What the–?” He looks at you in disbelief, “You’re pregnant?” 
“Congratulations, it’s a boy.” You bite out, “Like you wanted.” 
“You’ve been drinking the entire night.” He points to the glass, “Do you expect me to believe you’re pregnant?” 
Offering him a sweet smile you hand him the glass, tipping it towards him, “It’s soda water, would you like a sip?” 
“Don’t make me do this,” he pleads, “give me another chance.” 
“I would’ve, if you were honest with me from the start.” You resign, a sincere look in your eyes. “I’ll give you a choice: us, or her.”  
He rears back with the offer, looking at you in disbelief. “What?” 
“You either choose me and the baby or you choose to be with her, and in that case, I will never let you near my baby, Charles.” You shake your head, wrapping your arms around your stomach protectively.  
For a second, his eyes linger around your stomach.   But you know his choice when he meets your eyes again.  
“What have we done to each other?” He whispers, and you can barely see the tears in his eyes.  
“We didn’t do anything, Charles. I gave up everything for you, but you just took me for granted.” Walking back to the dining table, you grab your coat and bag, and when you come face to face with him again, your voice is soft despite all the anger you still feel towards him. “You, Charles Leclerc, are truly the smallest man who ever lived.”  
The hotel lobby is calm and empty as you sit at the bar, and it’s surprising when you consider that fact that it is the weekend of the Monaco Grand Prix, meaning that there must be hundreds and thousands of motorsports fans visiting. Not that you’re complaining about the silence, of course. After the night you’ve had, silence and calmness are all you could ask for.  
“I’ll get a whiskey, please, whatever top shelf stuff you’ve got.” A voice cuts through the moment you are having, and you instantly recognise the distinct accent of the stranger sitting next to you. “Thought you were in the States, finishing off filming.” This time, the comment is directed to you, and you roll your eyes as you push the empty glass towards the bartender on duty.  
With a sigh, you turn to the man on your right, “What do you want, Carlos?” Your voice conveys your lack of energy, and Carlos is not dumb enough not to notice the dark circles under your eyes beneath your makeup.  
“I came to check on you.” Is his answer. Simple, curt and to the point. You’d certainly appreciate it more if you had the patience for his antics.  
“Well, you did, have a good night.” Slamming down a hundred-Euro bill onto the counter, you make a move to get up from your place, but a gentle hand on your wrist stops you. “Let me go.”  
Though there is no venom to your voice, Carlos knows that it is not the time, nor the place, to test your patience. “I’m sorry,” he starts and when you take a good look at him, you can tell that he’s being sincere, “I really did want to check up on you, and considering the fact that you have a perfectly good penthouse but instead in a hotel, I think I was right to do so.”  
Crossing your arms across your chest as you get back onto the barstool with a huff, you glare at him lightheartedly, “I didn’t want to stay in the same house as him,” raising your eyebrows, you continue with a lower voice, “thanks to [email protected], but I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.” The way his cheeks redden under the dim lights of the lobby bar would make you chuckle under normal circumstances, but you push the thought aside, “Honestly, what were you thinking? You’re lucky it was me who realised it was you, if it was my agent or publicist, we’d have another scandal to deal with.” 
“Yeah, yeah,” he brushes you off with a swat of his hand, “I’m sorry I put you into that position.” 
“Don’t be,” you mumble, tilting your head to the side, “I wouldn’t have known if you hadn’t sent me the video. Just tell me why you did it.” 
“What?” He turns you with a confused look on his face.  
“Why, Carlos?” You ask, voice encouraging yet soft, “Why did you send it? Why now?” 
He keeps quiet for a while, not answering your questions but not taking his gaze off you either. Eventually, he exhales a deep sigh as he gives you a sheepish shrug, “I didn’t like the way he treated you. And I didn’t want to make you worry about it without concrete proof, so I guess everything just... worked out.”  
“Huh,” you let out a small hum in agreement, “I guess you’re right.”  
Expecting more than the words you chose to answer him with, he raises an eyebrow as he takes a big gulp of whiskey from his glass. “That’s it?” 
“Well, what more is it there to say?” You ask, sheepishly shrugging. “We’re getting a divorce; he’s going to move out and I’m gonna make sure the entire world knows just why.” 
Carlos flags down the bartender as he mumbles, “I feel like you need a stronger drink if we’re going to talk about your impending divorce, cariño.” 
Taking a deep breath and exhaling an even deeper sigh, you shake your head. “I can’t.” Thank God Carlos is one of the people who is the proud owner of a braincell around you, because he catches your insinuation quickly.  
With widened eyes, he quickly turns towards you, eyes softening as you offer him a sad smile. “Dios mío,” he murmurs, eyes running over you worriedly, “are you okay?” 
“Well... no.” You let out an unexpected laugh at his expression, patting him on the shoulder lightheartedly. “I’ll be fine, Carlos, I’m a big girl. I can handle this.” 
“I know you will,” he assures you, “but does Charles know?” 
Now that manages to bring a grimace to your face. “He signed his parental rights away along with the divorce papers.” The look he gives you after hearing your words has you worried that his eyes are going to pop out of their sockets, but you try to calm him down as best as you can. “Carlos, it’s fine.” 
“It’s most certainly not!” He exclaims, his voice echoing in the almost empty hotel lobby. “Is he out of his mind?”  
You give him an awkward smile and another shrug of your shoulders. "I... feel like whatever I’m going to say is going to be wrong. So... yes?”
“Cariño,” he says, exasperated, “how are you so normal about this?” 
“Lots of women raise their kids as single mothers while working, Carlos.” Your expression quickly taking the form of a frown, “I can handle this, I don’t need Charles or anyone else to hold my hand and tell me I’m doing such a good job.” 
“I know you can do this alone, tonta,” he rolls his eyes as the endearment making you roll your eyes, “but you’re not going to be alone. Because I’m here.” There’s a certain finality to his words. And just as you’re about to object to his words, he quickly shuts you down. “I know you can do this on your own, but you don’t have to, okay? I’m going to be with you every step of the way.”  
“What if I need waffles in the middle of the night?” You ask, your eyebrow raised in a skeptical way.  
“I’ll adjust my pancake recipe.” His reply his immediate, and he shrugs lightly as he adds, “Pancakes are better, anyway.”  
Rolling your eyes you continue, “What if I need someone to hold my hand in the delivery room? It can get quite gruesome, you know?” 
He provides you with another nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. “I’ve never really been affected by it.”  
“Okay, this is ridiculous, Carlos!” You exclaim, pushing yourself off your seat as you turn your body to face him. “I don’t need you to bail me out, I don’t need your help!” 
“I know you don’t,” he nods.  
“I am capable of doing this on my own!” You shriek, and the fact that your face is starting to get progressively redder worries Carlos.  
“I know you are, but–” he tries to reason.  
“No buts! I’m going to be a good mother, okay?” You point an accusatory finger towards him. “I’m going to choose him!” 
The way your voice breaks at the end of your sentence has Carlos instinctively pull you into his arms, which is not that hard given the fact that you are almost the same height as him as you stand in front of the bar stool he’s sitting on, and he doesn’t say a word as you sob into his chest – letting out all the emotion you’ve bottled up over the past few weeks, no less. He doesn’t you offer you empty promises or tries to soothe you with cliché phrases. Instead, he stands still, holding you between his arms as you sob continuously into his chest. Giving the bar tender an awkward smile over your shoulder, he hands him his card to close out your tabs.  
He only starts talking again once you’ve pulled away and trying to wipe the remnants of your tears from under your eyes. “Do you feel better now?” He asks, handing you a napkin.  
“Yeah,” you mumble, sniffing as you play with the corners of the napkin. Then, you flip your eyes toward his, and fix him with a glare. “You are not becoming my kid’s stepdad.” 
“Of course not, cariño,” he assures you, “I’ll be the dad that stepped up instead.” 
You let out a teary chuckle as you slap him lightly on his chest. “I’m serious, Carlos.” 
“So am I.” He replies softly, and you can see the genuine look on his face. “You’re not alone anymore, I’m choosing you.” Tentatively, he presses his hand softly against your stomach as he maintains your gaze. “Both of you.” 
And though the last thing you want is a promise, this one seems like a real one. So, you let yourself believe that he might just keep it up. 
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Text
Of Oblivious Minds (4)
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Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: You're positive Azriel is in love with Elain. It seems so obvious. But Cassian is laughing at you and suddenly nothing makes quite so much sense anymore.
Word count: 3k
Warnings: Angst
a/n: Thank you for reading and sorry for the wait!! I hope you enjoy :) Let me know what you think ❤️
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
~~
You were leaving today, and suddenly—with your bags at your feet and the air around you filled with stagnant silence—a few days seemed so juvenile. So… inconsequential in the grand scheme. 
You would leave, and when you returned everything would be the same. Azriel would still love another and you would still be left with the bleak realization that you had spent the last few centuries denying a love that you knew to be fruitless. 
Nothing would change if you were to be gone only a few measly days. 
But if you were to be gone a month? A year, even? 
Much of your work for Rhysand could be done from afar, especially with the library in Day Court. Helion wouldn’t mind; he’d asked you to consider an extended stay in the past. And maybe there could even be something there, something to take your mind off of your true home. 
The home that wasn’t Velaris. 
You saw him every time you closed your eyes. His rare smiles, his even rarer laughs; you saw the way his watchful eyes skated across every room you entered and reminisced on each twitch of his hands—the way you could feel it against your fingers when you grabbed for him in the busy streets of Velaris. 
Azriel was inescapable, even when you battled against your vision and attempted to drift to sleep. 
He was everywhere, everything. 
But he wouldn’t be in Day Court, and although that wouldn't stop your thoughts, it would be something. It would be distance. 
With a flick of your wrist, you sent your bags away to Day Court and heaved in an uncomfortably large breath. You knew he would do little to deny you, but you still needed to ask Rhys. He was your High Lord and employer, above all your friend, and you knew it would take a little persuading. 
Maybe tears. Yes, tears were very moving and equally as conjurable at the moment.
It only took one step before the knock on your door left you still. Your shoes made a dent in the carpet and you could hear him breathing on the other side of the ornately carved wood. You could always tell when it was Azriel. 
You shifted your weight from one knee to the next, gripping your skirts at the thigh. Azriel knocked again, this time in a faster pattern—more rushed. 
You bit into your lip. You hadn’t planned to see him again, not before you left. You would deal with the repercussions of such an act later on, but not now. Not when you had finally gotten your emotions under control for long enough to have a conversation with Rhys. 
It made sense to you now why you had repressed this for so long. 
The sound of your voice was startling. “Come in.” 
The door creaked, but the sound was overpowered by Azriel’s boot clicking against shining marble. The shadowsinger entered before his shadows, but the wisps followed close behind, quickly abandoning their master in favor of darting toward you. They twisted up your legs and elbows, rolling into your hair and dancing along your fingertips. 
Something like fear, love, crushing defeat tugged and tugged at your chest. 
“Azriel,” you greeted, aiming for a surprised tone and failing. “Have you come to see me off?” 
The spymaster didn’t smile. “Rhys sent me. He said you might have a message for him.” 
That cauldron-damned meddler. Of course he somehow knew about your reservations. You doubted he knew exactly what you had to say, but you had been dragging your feet all morning and were currently about an hour late for your own departure. 
And of course he had sent Azriel of all people. 
“Oh! Well, I suppose I could go and—” 
“Why is half of your vanity gone?” 
You blinked, startled by the words. If Azriel was anything, he was polite and never one to cut someone off. You went to search Azriel’s expression but found him zeroed in on the table pushed into the corner of your room. 
“What?” It was all you could think to formulate. 
But Azriel was quick to respond. “Almost all of your things are gone. Your perfumes and the pots of cream you keep on the side. You’ve only left the items you don’t use anymore.” 
“How do you know—” you cut yourself off this time, ignoring the glaring question that tried to blind you. “Azriel, I’m going away… to Day Court. You know this.”
But Azriel only shook his head, stalking over to the table and yanking the drawer open so harshly it shook the mirror. When he didn’t find what he was looking for, he went to your closet, throwing open the door, shoulders rising and falling with more effort. 
“Azriel—” 
“You’ve packed too much.” He turned to you, some of his shadows returning to wind around his chest. “You’ve taken most of your clothes.” 
“You know I always overpack,” you laughed, but the laugh sounded fake, painful. 
You fought the urge to cower under Azriel’s scrutinizing gaze. It was as if he was on fire, as if he was aflame and filled with something that had been pent up for far too long. If someone, anyone, were to look inside of you, they would see the same thing. 
Which is why you needed to get far, far away from this situation. Away from him.
But the longer you looked back at him—the longer you tried to slap that easygoing smile on your face—the longer he stared back with the same steady intensity. 
“Is something the matter?” you tried. 
Azriel’s hand twitched. 
That feeling crept along the edges of your ribs once again. 
“Is something the matter?” he parroted, jaw so impossibly tight the words came out pinched. 
You finally looked away, playing with your fingers. “Yes?” 
He started laughing. But it wasn’t the kind of laugh that made you feel light. It didn’t fill you with pride for eliciting such a sound from him, nor did it make you want to laugh in return. It made you feel dark; as Azriel laughed, you wanted to heave the sound back within the depths it flowed from. 
“There are several things that are the matter, y/n, but I’d say the most pressing is that you have been avoiding me for weeks. That every moment I’ve tried to spend with you has been promptly evaded and now you’re leaving and you had no intention of saying goodbye.” 
“I was going to—” 
“Please,” he pleaded, eyes soft yet so achingly desperate. “Don’t lie to me. Not right now.” 
The indent in the carpet was becoming permanent; you couldn’t seem to move. 
“I’ve been… I’ve been going through a hard time. Leaving seemed like it was the best for me. Just for a little while. Just until I could sort a few things out.” 
“For how long?” he asked, voice cracking along the precipice of the last word. 
You paused then, staring hard into his eyes. “A while.”
A shaky breath left the shadowsinger, his chest reflecting the sound. He ran a hand into his hair and tugged at the roots, an action you hadn’t seen him do in years. A sickening sort of pity ran through you—a sort of responsibility. 
Because Azriel was your friend, and he was going through something, too. You had no idea if his mate reciprocated his feelings. You found it hard to believe that anyone wouldn’t love Azriel, but the conversation you’d overheard last week gave nothing away. 
Maybe Azriel hadn’t told her yet because she didn’t love him. And maybe you were being a bad friend by not being there for him. 
Tossing your hurt to the side, you took a step forward. Azriel watched the movement, eyes flickering behind you to catch the previous imprint of your feet on the carpet. 
“I’m sorry,” you began, resolute. “I’m sorry that you felt you couldn’t tell me. And that you’ve been… having a hard time. I know I’m not leaving at the most opportune time, but you can write to me and I can help you.” 
Some of the brokenness on Azriel’s face morphed into confusion. “Help me?” 
“With your mate.” 
And it was as if Azriel had been shot. He physically recoiled, his right foot coming down to catch him as he fixed his imbalance. 
“I know you wanted to keep it private, but I overheard. Azriel—” You swallowed. Hard. “—It’s so wonderful that you’ve found your mate.” 
Something was set in motion, and Azriel was shaking his head. His gaze was fixed on you and his eyebrows were pushed together in a painful expression and he just kept shaking his head as your chest caved and it became hard to breathe. Something pulled from within and it felt like your heart was unraveling. 
Couldn’t he see how hard this was? How much it took from you just to acknowledge that he was destined for someone else? 
The shadowsinger seemed unaware of your inner turmoil, instead taking long steps across the room until he reached you. He leaned down, brought his hands up to your face, and he broke another piece of you as his forehead touched yours. 
He was whispering something, words so low even your fae ears couldn’t catch them, but you knew they were fast. Fast and incoherent and you weren’t even able to find their meaning in his expression because his eyes were squeezed so tightly. 
“Please, just notice. See it, angel, it’s there.” 
Your jaw quivered. He was so close to you. The few words you were able to make out were confusing. 
“My oblivious girl. Please.” 
“Azriel—” 
When he opened his eyes, the world fell off its axis. The fear in your chest—the feeling that had been unraveling you and leaving you weak—alighted. It pulled and pulled but this time it didn’t hurt. It no longer left splinters embedded in your ribs or took the breath from your lungs. 
As you looked up at Azriel, it was only soothing and warm and—
Mate. Azriel was your mate. 
You pushed back from him, stumbling and catching on the rug as you went toppling down to the floor. There was no pain from the fall; a numbness overtook your body where the warmth once flowed. 
“You’re my—Azriel, you—” 
There were no endings to the sentences you began. Azriel tried reaching a hand down, but when you wouldn’t take it he joined you on the floor. He sat with you between his legs, bringing you forward until your knees curled against his chest. And then he wrapped you in his arms and then his wings, taking calming breaths as yours ran rampant. 
“I am your mate,” he finished for you, so much more soothing than you had ever heard him speak.
“But Elain,” you gasped out, finding solace against his chest. You leaned your forehead against him and relished in the heat. 
“What of Elain?” Azriel asked, bringing a hand up against the back of your head. 
“You love Elain.” 
“I do not love Elain.” 
“And Mor?” 
“I do not love Mor, either.” 
You nodded against him. This would take longer for you to come to terms with later, but only simple answers were getting through to you now. And the bond—the bond—sang as you touched Azriel. The bond didn’t care if you were confused or hurt or disbelieving.
Your mind swam as a new influx of emotions filled you, but there was a distinction to them and you knew they weren’t your own. At first, it was hard to pick through them all; there were so many that they all blended together. There was an obvious tender love, but also a crippling fear that mingled with a darkness you couldn’t place. There was adoration and hopefulness and a sense of peace that lay at the bottom of all else. 
But you could tell this peace was new. It wasn’t as deeply ingrained as the others. 
Azriel leaned back, craning his neck down to catch your gaze. “Do you feel that?” he asked. When you nodded, he continued. “Those feelings have always belonged to you. All of them. I know there is not a lot of proof of that, and I will spend the rest of my life making up for that, but they have always belonged to you.” 
“Have you always felt mine?” you asked, voice sounding unused. 
“Since I’ve felt the bond,” he nodded. 
“How long have you…” 
Azriel sighed, but it wasn’t out of irritation. The bond told you as much. “Months.” 
Tears burned at the back of your eyes. “Then why did you never—” 
Azriel shushed you as your voice cracked. He ran both hands behind your head and held you steady as his lips pressed to your forehead. 
“I didn’t want to lose you.” 
Throat still closed, words still choked, you replied, “That is idiotic.” 
This time, when Azriel laughed, you felt that pride spark up in your chest. “I know, angel. Gods, do I know that.” 
There was a brief pause, a respite to the revelations and emotions in the room. You counted your breaths as you pressed against Azriel, and he ran his hands up and down the length of your spine, chaste kisses pressed to your head as the minutes ticked by. 
“Don’t leave.” Azriel broke the silence. “Stay. Please.” 
When you didn’t answer, he kept talking. 
“You don’t have to love me. I know that is a lot to ask and there are still so many questions left unanswered. But, y/n, I have loved you for a long, long time. I couldn’t bear it if you left. It has been difficult to even function this past week with you avoiding me. If you were to leave—”
“I only avoided you because I thought it wasn’t me,” you interrupted, pulling back once again to meet his gaze. “I thought you didn’t love me and I couldn’t stand it, so I wanted to leave.”
A grim line set into Azriel’s mouth. The desperation returned to his eyes. “We have wasted so much time.” 
“I wouldn’t say wasted. Not when you were here. Not when I was still with you.” 
“Angel.” The word came out like a plea, and then his lips were on yours. His hands pressed you closer and his mouth was hot against yours and it was everything you’d spent three centuries ignoring. You loved him, gods did you love him, and in this kiss was every proof that he loved you. 
You tangled your fingers in his hair, musing the already displaced strands. His wings quivered as you kissed him more, the action sending little pools of light into the bubble he had created. They felt warm against your eyelids, and when you pulled away to see the cause, Azriel moved his attention to your jaw, your cheek, your neck. 
“You are my mate,” he affirmed against your skin, low and gravelly. “Mine.” 
You pulled his head away, leaning your forehead against his own. “And you are mine.” 
“I love you,” he said. 
And you couldn’t say it back, not yet. Azriel seemed unperturbed by this and accepted your small smile as a reply, reciprocating it tenfold. His smile shone in the pockets of light created by his wings and his eyes no longer looked sad. It made you want to say it back.
When that guilt flooded you and your mouth parted, there was a tug at the bond instead. You gasped at the feeling, blinking up at Azriel with owlish eyes. 
“I’ve wanted to do that for months,” he admitted, smile softening as he ran scarred fingers along your cheeks. “Every time I felt your doubt or fear. I figured I could startle it out of you.” 
You rubbed at your chest. “It feels warm. And…” You couldn’t find the words.
“It feels good, angel. This bond was cold and it hurt, but it—it feels good. Like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.” 
A breathy, awestruck laugh escaped you. “You know, I still have to go to Day for the weekend. It’s court-appointed.” 
Azriel groaned, burying his face in your neck. “Then I will come with you,” he grumbled, words muffled against your skin. 
“You cannot. But you can wait for me to return and I will come right back here.”
3K notes · View notes
hongjoongscafe · 9 months
Text
Peach.
One-Shot.
Pairing: professor!jungkookxcamgirl!reader.
Genre: smut, angst, fluff, forbidden au, uni au.
Summary: where his lust and admiration fell for a camgirl.
Word count: 15.4k+
Warnings: age gap (oc: 21, JK: 30), masturbation… lots of masturbation, sort of online bullying(?), kind of public masturbation, toys, name-calling, sir/daddy, pussy eating, fingering, unprotected sex (Namjoon will bonk your head if you don't use a contraceptive), spanking, spitting kink, cum eating, choking, overstimulation, a little bit of degradation, pussy spanking. (and that anime-ish picture has nothing to do with the fiction. Imagine the characters however you want!)
Masterpost
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“Oh fuck!” Jungkook's voice trembled as he palmed himself through his sweatpants. The thin shining layer of sweat made his face look sexier. His teeth were gritting and his eyes could barely focus on anything but the screen.
He had sworn to make himself wait until he could not wait anymore. He wanted to tease himself until he felt like bursting through his high. He wanted the pain of pleasure to run through his muscles and explode when it was too much to fill his body.
His ears were red from arousal and his veins were popping from lust.
He waited for a whole day to end just to tune into his favourite girl's livestream and tease himself as long as she teased herself.
Through his screen, he admired how her legs were wide open with a camera between them showing her gushing core. The livestream only started about five minutes ago. And he was already so ready to burst in his pants.
He was packing (giddily) to go back home after his day was over at the university to watch her, he was smiling widely. However, his smile dropped when he saw Mr Jameson (the director of the university) standing on the threshold of his office room.
“Mr Jeon, kindly visit conference hall 2 for a staff meeting in ten minutes.”
His lips frowned but nodded and sighed thinking that he probably wouldn't be able to make home soon enough to watch his MissPeach.
The meeting went longer as expected. It was nothing but about exchange students. Jungkook had ten exchange students in total and about three in each lecture he was assigned.
He made it home just in time. While he was juggling the key in the keyhole, he opened the stream and it was on its final countdown till the stream started. He sighed with relief and finally went inside and jumped on his bed, not bothering to turn on his lights. The burnt yellow guiding lights in the hallway and in his room were enough for him which turned on automatically when the sun kissed the ocean through his window and the night began to fall.
“Today, I thought I must not make you all wait,” Miss Peach's soft voice finally speaks. “So I’m going to skip teasing and just jump right into it,” she giggled when the chat went crazy with thank yous and asking for more or some who loved to get teased were upset but so ready to see.
Jungkook’s cock twitched after hearing her seductive yet innocent voice. She never showed her face but he knew she was smiling.
“I’m tired today, so I will use my sex machine instead. I hope it is alright,” she hummed.
Jungkook quickly tapped his screen with a frown of worry.
Bigdaddyj: Baby, it's alright. Relax and just let go, yeah? Don't worry<3 If someone has any problem, Daddy will handle —$200
The ping on Peach's side made her look at the chat. “Thank you, Daddy,” she chuckled. “You are always so generous.”
Jungkook could see her pussy throbbing as she said daddy. He bit his lip and saw a fake cock attached to a machine. Peach rubbed the lube all over it and aligned it with her pussy. She started it at a slow speed.
“Oh,” she gasped as it slowly started to push in. “This feels so good.”
He whimpered imagining his cock pushing into her pussy. Lowered his pants and pulled out his throbbing cock and squeezed the head, trying to feel how it would feel if he were that fake cock. His cock would look prettier and feel better than that thing. But at the same time, he wanted to suck that toy and lick all of her sweet juices, too.
“You fill me up so good,” she rasped. “Please fuck me,” Peach panted as she raised the power and the thrusts got faster and wetter.
“Fuck,” he couldn't control and gave in. His fist picked up the pace of the toy and looked at her pretty pussy swallowing the toy. Her sweet moans and whimpers only fueled his desire.
Not much later, he came all over himself, ruining his white shirt and black pants. But it was worth it.
“That was quick,” she giggled as she panted. Her pussy was red and swollen just how he loved it. “I hope you all came as well… tomorrow I was wondering if we could do qna type of thing? Not the usual stream but just something. I kinda wanna talk. I don't get to do that enough so…”
Jungkook was quick to reply.
Bigdaddyj: aw Peaches I would love to talk to you, baby girl. It will be fun. ^^ –$300
Reading the chat he sent, she hummed cosily. “You think so, daddy? I'm glad. I'll be seeing you all tomorrow then.”
With that, the stream ended and Jungkook slumped against the headrest.
Jungkook used to share a staff flat on campus with two other professors. It was going fine until he found MissPeach. Watching her was becoming a huge task with the other two men in that small flat. It was always obvious whenever he would jerk off.
On many occasions, his roommates would catch him after looking at his flushed face after one of his “sessions”. They said that his face could never hide the fact that he just jerked.
He started to wear makeup but it was frustrating and ended up moving out and eventually purchasing his own apartment off campus. It was rather convenient.
His obsession, however, grew ridiculously embarrassing. And having his own apartment helped him live it. Whenever MissPeach would go live, he would watch without caring about someone disturbing or making fun of him.
Sometimes he felt utterly embarrassed whenever he sat in front of his gigantic TV in his living room with a football game, his one hand holding his mobile with MissPeach's livestream on it and the other hand wrapped around his aching cock. He couldn't miss either.
It all worked out for him.
The next morning, Jungkook walked into his lecture hall dressed in a black shirt and black pants, his feet clad in the infamous black boots that made him look professional at the same time a character out of a dark romance book.
“Good morning, class. I hope you all had a long night. I have a job for you all,” he cleared his throat. “I'll be handing you guys a worksheet. You have this whole lecture which is sixty minutes. Take help from your sources and complete it. It's been one month and four more to go. So I want you all to revise what we did this month. I think there is no better way than this. What do we say? Do we agree?” he asked with his bubbly smile that he knew no one could resist.
The students agreed. Soon enough, everyone had two sets of five-page-long worksheets on their desks. In this specific batch, he taught biology. But he had chemistry as well.
You loved biology. And even more now because Jungkook was your professor. You were an exchange student and joined this semester.
On your first day, when he walked into the class, you were positive that he was one of the students but when he stood behind the teacher's desk and started his lecture, your jaw was barely holding up. He looked ripped and broad. The buttons on his shirt were fighting against the monstrosity of his chest. You swore you saw his nipples poke through his shirt at some point.
Even now, when you are sitting in your seat you can't help but look up and steal some glances towards him. He was sitting on his chair, reading something on his laptop with his glasses perched up.
You felt your pussy tingling. Since the first day, you have been masturbating to him. But your pussy just wanted his finger, mouth, and cock.
He never noticed you. You preferred to stay at the corner at the back and just exist. Socializing was not your forte. You had one too many insecurities to even say hi to someone. Even when some of the girls approached you for you to join them around, you always politely declined.
And the rest were not as nice. The thing was that you were a scholarship student at a private university. You barely afford to live. And the others barely kept money in their banks but still had too much money. They were everything you could never be and sometimes they took it as an advantage.
So you preferred to stay away and not get involved with anyone.
You were focusing on your worksheet when Jungkook’s chair screeched against the floor, looking up, you saw him slowly walking around and inspecting if someone needed help. So far, it was not bad. He had taught everything perfectly.
You focused back on your work. You could hear his footsteps. Here and there, the girls asked him some silly questions. You wanted to ask, too. But your confidence was a bit above -200.
So no, you weren't going to ask.
Soon enough, the musky scent invaded your senses as Jungkook was closer to you. He stood by you and looked at your work. You hid your hands under the desk to hide the trembling. It was the first time that you saw him up close. He never took a round, most probably because it was never needed. On the other hand, there weren't any emergencies or something that would make you knock on his office door.
Your eyes met with his as he asked “Miss Park, do you need any help?”
You shook your head, not trusting your voice.
“As expected,” he smiled. He fucking smiled at you. You bit back a silly smile, cleared your throat and looked down.
He moved along and you finally took a breath. He is rather enchanting and you just couldn't rebel.
How could you? That big Professor was a god himself.
“After you are done, you can hand your sheets to me and leave,” he said and took his seat.
You had completed the worksheet about twenty minutes earlier but there was no way you were going to get up and attract any attention. So you started to go through Chemistry.
Chemistry was not your best subject but it meant another hour in Jungkook’s class.
Your concentration enveloped you and made you lose the passage of time. You slightly flinched as Jungkook called your name.
“Miss Park, it has been ten minutes since the lecture got over. You can take the worksheet home if you want and submit it tomorrow if you are finding it hard. Or I can help if you want,” Jungkook offered.
You looked around the empty class and back at your professor. “Ah,” you nervously chuckled and started collecting your stuff. “It is all done,” you said in a small voice and finally gathered everything.
You walked towards him and handed him the sheets. Awkwardly, you bowed and stepped away. However, Jungkook stopped you.
“Miss Park, please write your name and ID number over here, please,” he smiled… again.
You could feel your ears heating up with embarrassment. “Sorry,” you whispered.
“It’s alright!” as you were writing your name and ID number on your sheets, Jungkook took notice of your hands. They looked familiar. Way too familiar.
The images of his MissPeach flashed in front of his eyes. That glistening, pink pussy. His cock twitched in his pants. He shook his head to get the images out. “There are many similar hands, JK!” He scolded himself.
“How are you keeping up, here?” Jungkook asked to distract himself.
You slid the now-named sheets back to him. “Um, it's nice here.”
Jungkook’s eyes twitched at the familiarity of your voice as well. “That’s good. If you ever have any problem, you can come to me. We have two classes so feel free to reach out. You are already so far away from your home so don’t hesitate to ask for help.”
You looked him in the eyes and smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind.” with that, you finally left with a racing heart and wet panties.
Jungkook looked at the closed door. “Ah, I should stop watching her. She is messing up my brain. Y/n can't be her. She is too innocent for that… right?”
But who was he kidding, he was obsessed with MissPeach.
You felt embarrassed when you walked out. His mere smile and thick voice made your pussy clench around nothing and your panties wet. You could feel the wetness on your thighs.
He had an effect on you more than your body could handle without making you feel like his whore.
But you knew he would never look at you the way you wanted him to. To begin with, you were his student and if there was any chance that he would get involved with one, that certainly wouldn't be you.
There were many painfully beautiful girls around you who had maintained themselves like Queens. They had proper skin care, a pretty makeup routine before they came to university and a relaxing night routine. Whereas you, you splashed your face with water and soap and slapped basic cheap face cream on your face.
Most of your money from your “job” was sent to your parents and for your apartment rent. And not to mention, that where you came for an exchange programme, even farting costs money.
Sighing, you walked through the crowd of students and looked around. Everyone was busy with their stuff. In the canteen, groups of friends were sitting and enjoying the food. You brought your own meal but today you were running late and packed nothing. So you walked towards the cheapest of the options, a vending machine.
You bought some rice balls and a can of Sprite. Quickly, you left the canteen and sat on the empty staircase which rarely anyone visited which led to the abandoned old green room.
It didn't take time for you to finish your food. The thought of your hot, ripped professor was still fogging up your mind and probably the sane side of your brain, too. And the more it did, the more your panties became wet.
The image of his beautiful long fingers teased you. You wondered how his tattooed fingers would look while playing with your pussy. Oh, you just wanted just that.
His lip ring was the end of you. You wanted to sit on his face and feel the piercing over your pussy. You always paid attention to when he played with his lip ring with his tongue and just wanted to know how it would feel teasing your clit.
You couldn't take it anymore so you opened the secret pocket of your bad and took out a tiny bullet vibrator that you carried after realizing that Mr Jeon was a sexy man that you just wanted fuck.
Looking around the empty staircase and hallway above, you opened the button of your pants and slipped your hand inside your panties. You positioned the toy over your clit and buttoned up your pants back on.
From your mobile, you turned it on. The low vibrations of the toy shivered you up. You closed your eyes and rested your head against the railing, slowly turning up the power.
It was a perfect gift from one of your viewers who watched almost every stream, Bigdaddyj. You loved this toy the most. It didn't make any noises and was easy to carry around in your bag… or inside your panties.
Soon the vibrations got stronger, leaving your mouth wide open. Your hips thrust in the air and your legs trembled.
A strangled moan forced out so you slapped your hand over your mouth to make no noises. You imagined Jungkook between your legs fingering your hole and sucking on your clit. Thinking of him humming and moaning on your pussy sent you to the edge.
Not so long after, your body seized up and climaxed.
You whimpered at the sensitivity and turned off the toy. It was hard to bring your breath to normal but you somehow managed and stood up yet again questioning your existence.
“So I see many of you tuned into this live… I was not expecting this,” you giggled looking at the viewer bar. There were about one thousand viewers. They could only see your boobs clad in a black satin tank top. “Shall we start with the QnA?”
Jungkook was lounging on his sofa with a glass of whiskey. He looked at MissPeach’s boobs. He just wanted to squeeze them and pamper them with kisses and just… keep on worshipping her.
Bigdaddyj: You look fabulous, pretty. How was your day?
You looked at the chat, it wasn't as crazy as when you bare your boobs and pussy. Your heart fluttered when you saw the name of your regular who insisted you call him daddy. “Thank you, Daddy! I'm fine, just a bit tired. It was a long day,” you hummed.
Bigdaddyj: Aw, baby. You should rest. Drink something warm and sleep.”
You smiled at his chat. Playing with the top of your tank top, you replied, “I will. But I have some other things to do and study for a bit.”
Jungkook watched MissPeach play with the top. He couldn't help but pay close attention to the hands. They were similar, he was sure of that. However, he shook his head and paid attention to MissPeach’s chat.
Cummingdick: show face
Natehell: Do you meet in private?
She answered that question, “No, I don't meet in private.”
Then Jungkook asked the question that had been bugging him all-day.
Bigdaddyj: Baby, yesterday you said that you don't get to talk a lot. What is that? Do your friends don't listen to you?
You looked at the question. Your smile faded, lucky you never showed your face. What were you supposed to answer? But it was Daddy who asked it so you had to answer.
“Well, I'm not a very social person. Plus I moved to a different country recently. So I don't have friends here. I prefer staying by myself anyway. It works for me!” you tried to be enthusiastic.
Patrick: show tits, bitch
Fuckboi2000: it's always the quiet ones who whore around
Lovethatpus: I thought you had fucked the whole campus
Jungkook didn't feel good. He heard that strained voice and could tell it was deeper than that. He felt rage reading mindless chat, on top of that. He always saw that innocence in her. Even though she was a camgirl, her demeanour reflected the innocence that he wanted to protect.
Bigdaddyj: it's alright, baby. Try to get along slowly. I'm sure you will make a good friend. Don't be alone, my darling.
The chat from Bigdaddyj brought a smile to your face. Where everyone was requesting you to remove your top and spread your legs, he was making sure you felt heard.
“I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you, Daddy.”
The chat progressively got disappointing and soon turned into a mess. The viewers dropped down when you didn't remove any clothes.
There weren't many questions, in fact, nobody asked a proper question except Bigdaddyj.
Cummingdick: this sucks
Fuckboi2000: Man, you wasted my time, you fucking stupid cunt.
Ridemycock: never turn up if you not gonna show that pussy
Hideme: You're not as interesting as your pussy
Lovethatpus: No wonder why you don't have friends, bitch. Other than your pussy and tits, you are fucking boring
Boobieman: I would just use you and throw you. Boring ass bitch
You sighed. Maybe you shouldn't have done this. What did you even expect? Talking on a porn website? You shook your head and just looked at the chat, not answering any questions.
Soon, there was only one viewer left. And you were certain who he was.
“Daddy?” you called in a low, soft voice.
Jungkook's eyes widened when MissPeach called him. He wasn't expecting her to know that he was still tuned in. Half of him was burning with rage because of those stupid assholes who had to degrade you instead of going somewhere else.
He quickly typed.
Bigdaddyj: yes, baby?
“Do you wanna know a secret?” she hummed.
Bigdaddyj: yes, of course, baby. What is it?
You didn't say something for a few seconds and then stood up. Taking a tissue next to you, you poured some micellar water on it. “Look here, okay?” you said and took a deep breath.
Jungkook typed a yes and looked where she had lowered her pyjama shorts, brought the tissue and pressed for a few. It was above her hip bone on the left side.
Slowly, the tissue swapped and showed a tiny coloured tattoo. It was a cute little pastel pink peach.
Jungkook's mouth parted and looked at the tattoo. He felt his cock twitch in his sweats.
“I got this when I turned nineteen. But I always hid it. It's tiny but I always feel like not wanting to show this to anyone. But I only put on concealer whenever I come live or when I wear cropped tops or something like that,” MissPeach said.
Again, Jungkook’s fingers tapped across the keyboard.
Bigdaddyj: That has to be the most adorable tattoo I've ever seen, baby. I wanna kiss it.
A soft giggle left her. “You can kiss it, Daddy.”
Jungkook smiled.
Bigdaddyj: Tell me, pretty. What other secrets are you hiding?
She sat down again. Her delicate fingers tapped the tabletop. “There are some secrets that I have that no one knows. Will you keep them as secrets if I tell you them?”
Jungkook didn't need to think at all.
Bigdaddyj: Of course, baby. I'll keep them for you.
At this point, Jungkook just wanted her to talk about things that she couldn't talk about or didn't have a friend to talk to. He loved this. Just talking and existing at the same time.
He knew he was fucked. How could he get attached to a faceless person like this?
“I used one of your toys today…” she rubbed the back of her neck. “At university at lunchtime.”
Jungkook’s cock hardened right away. She used his toy at her university.
“And you know what's worse? I've been taking it every day with me and using it often at the university. I keep it in my secret pocket in the bag. I always feel dirty using it,” she confessed.
“Fuck,” Jungkook cursed.
Bigdaddyj: You always feel that horny, baby? What do you think about when you use it?
She paused for a moment, “will you be angry if I tell you the truth?”
He frowned. “So not me,” he mumbled. “Why would she? She has never seen me before.”
Bigdaddyj: Not at all, pretty.
“Hm… I always think about my professor,” she revealed.
“Fuck me,” Jungkook moaned. Even though it wasn't him, the thought of her masturbating to a professor made his cock harder.
Bigdaddyj: You are one nasty little girl, baby.
“I can't help it, Daddy. I really can't.”
Your morning class was supposed to be Chemistry but Jungkook couldn't show up for the lecture. Instead, he sent the worksheet to the students through an adjusted professor.
The instructions were similar to what they were for biology. However, this was not easy for you.
It took ten extra brain cells to solve one damn equation. There was no way you were going to get this worksheet done in time. You scolded yourself in your mind for taking this ungodly subject just to spend one more hour with Jungkook who truly never noticed you.
Later in the day, it was your Biology lecture. And to your luck, Jungkook was present in this class and had brought back the worksheets with him.
“You all did an excellent job with this worksheet,” he said as he stood up and smiled at all. Oh, that fucking killer smile that you wanted to eat up. “However, there was one person who did an exceptionally great job!”
His eyes roamed around and stopped at you. “Miss Park,” he called, making your breath stop. “Not a single mistake. Everything was written so beautifully and accurately. I'm impressed by your work. That one diagram was drawn with perfection even in a limited time. And all those diagram with other processes were great addition. One could tell you know what you are doing. Keep working like this,” he gave you a toothy smile and thumbs up.
Your cheeks turned into rosy red. Not trusting your voice, you quickly bowed to him from your seat and gave him an awkward smile.
The lecture passed by with him starting a new chapter and passing on the introduction of sub-topics to make everything easier when studied in detail— one of his tricks for learning that was your favourite.
As the lecture ended, everybody started to leave and you were packing up as well. It was only 2:00 PM and you were planning to go back to your apartment.
“Miss Park,” Jungkook called your attention. “Do you have time for a moment? I've something to discuss.”
You nodded.
Soon, you found yourself sitting in front of your professor. The same one who made you masturbate in public and that you confessed to a stranger who watched your stream regularly.
“Miss Park, you did an outstanding job in Biology. I'm impressed, actually. When I was handed your performance chart from your university, I knew I didn't need to be worried about you. No one gets into this university without any reason. It's harder. You either need too much brain or too much money,” he said. “I was actually quite eager to go through your Chemistry worksheet.”
You dug your nails into your palm, knowing well that you had disappointed him.
“I can see that Chemistry is difficult for you. Or if I rephrase it, you are thinking that it is difficult for you,” he pulled out the worksheet. “You haven't answered all the questions and there are some mistakes. From the look of it, it seems you have a problem with your basics. I'm pretty sure it will be all right once the lab starts but I think it would be much helpful if you understand things in theory better.”
You fumbled with your fingers and avoided his eyes. Your body was tense and he could see right through it.
Jungkook removed his glasses, “Miss Park, May I ask why you opted for this subject? I see you only had Biology before. Why the sudden addition of Chemistry?”
Taking a deep breath, you finally spoke up. “I'm sorry, Mr Jeon. I didn't mean to disappoint you in any way… I just took chemistry for extra credits.”
You lied. Oh, you fucking lied to your professor and you wanted to run away. Lying to him hurts you more than it should have.
Jungkook chuckled, “I’m not disappointed in you, Miss Park. I think with a little extra attention, you will be able to perform just as well as you do in Biology.”
You looked into his twinkling eyes. “I-I’m not sure if I can be that good in Chemistry. It's- it’s stupid, I should probably get it crossed. I think I still have time for that. Yeah, that, I'll do that,” the panic settled in.
Jungkook looked at you and found you a fragile little thing. He had never paid much attention to you knowing you were all good in your studies.
But right now, he wished he did.
You were a simple girl with a straightforward goal. He never saw you messing around or heard any gossip about you other than that you do not get mixed up well with others. Considering the fact that you had just moved out and still settling in, it was normal for not mixing up. It takes time.
“Miss Park,” Jungkook leaned in and patted your shoulder. “You don't need to panic. How about we try solving this problem for a couple of weeks and then see if you get any better, hm?
You sat frozen in your seat and just took in the feeling of his hand on your shoulder trying to calm you down. “What if I don't?”
Jungkook smiled, retrieving his hand and making you want more. “Then you can get it cancelled from your major.”
You nervously asked, “When can we start?”
“If you don't have any other class for the day, we can start right now! Do you have any classes?” you shook your head. “Alright, follow me to my office, Miss Park.”
Almost an hour since Jungkook has been focused on you. He was damn sure that your hands and voice were similar to MissPeach. He has been watching her for a month and he knows her perfectly. Her moans, whimpers, begging, sniffles, everything to the point she showed or let him see, he noticed.
However, he couldn't risk any false situations.
The picture of the peach tattoo flashed in front of his eyes. How MissPeach confessed to masturbating in university and that too while thinking about a professor… right into feeding his fantasies.
Not that he dreamt of that before but since MissPeach and you blocked his mind, he couldn't help but want this to happen. As forbidden as it was, you were a fully grown adult.
His pants started to tighten, his cock begging for a touch. But he pushed the need behind his head. He shouldn't think such filthy things while you are struggling to solve the equation in front of him.
He loved how your bangs caressed your soft cheeks. He wanted to caress your forehead to get rid of the tension lines you got while concentrating. He loved it when your nose scrunched up whenever you got stuck on a specifically harder equation.
He wondered why you had tiredness kissing your face. He hated that and wanted to take you in his arms and hum you to sleep in his lap.
Oh! He would do anything just to free your lower lip from the confines of your teeth and caress it with his thumb… kiss it with his lips and taste your pretty mouth.
His eyes widened at his wild thoughts. Fuck. He thought.
But something in his mind said that he needed to know if you were MissPeach or not.
Tattoo… he needed to keep an eye for it. She herself said that she always hid it whenever she came live or when she wore something like cropped tops.
It was the fifth day of the extra classes. You were waiting for Jungkook in his office with your notebook and textbook out as commanded by him. He informed you earlier that in this extra class, you will be joined by someone. You had no idea who this person was.
After about five minutes, the door opened. Along with Jungkook, another girl walked in. Margot.
There was nothing good about her. At least when it came to you, it wasn't. She was the only daughter of a realtor father and an advocate mother. Her nose was always high in the sky and her eyes looked down on people like you.
For her, you were not worth the hassle.
“Miss Park, Miss Bell was having trouble with the topic we are going to cover today. So I thought maybe we could work on it together!” Jungkook said as he took his seat in front of you and Margot on your left.
You nodded.
“Oh, well… I would have preferred this to be a private session, Mr Jeon. You know, it's better with personal attention and not,” Margot looked at you with a side eye, “share it with a scholar.” She spat the word scholar as if it were a pesticide.
Her voice was animatedly high-pitched and it annoyed you to no end.
“Really? I don't think so. Instead, I think that this is better. If you have any doubts, it can help Miss Park as well. And if Miss Park has any doubts, it can help you. Knowledge is never private, Miss Bell,” Jungkook sweetly said. You admired his thinking. He wasn't only hot and intelligent but also highly respectful as well. “Now without wasting time, let's start, shall we?”
It was only fifteen minutes in when Margot started to shit from her mouth.
“Mr Jeon, are you single?” she asked.
Jungkook looked up from his laptop and lowered his glasses. “Why do you ask?”
“You don't look single. There must be someone just as hot as you that you are dating,” your eyes widened at her choice of words.
Jungkook chuckled. “No, Miss Bell. I'm single.” His eyes stole glances at your face. You were buried in your book but he knew you were listening.
“Such a waste of hotness,” Margot tsked. “I think you deserve someone with pretty eyes, a sharp face and an intelligent mind, and money as well— ‘cause you know, there are many who would anything for money if they don't have it themselves! I'm sure you will go for someone who looks like a princess. With dusty blond hair,” At this point, she was just pointing out her own features.
“Miss Bell, I don't think you should be discussing such stuff. Plus, Miss Park must be getting disturbed,” his reply made your butterflies jump.
“Who cares? This is not all, you know? A girl must keep herself up to standards. No one will look at her if she keeps on being like this. A girl must wear good clothes, wear shoes that have solid soles and not hang by a single thread. Get a proper manicure done. Have some sense and class with good brands. And knows how to properly use make-up and not just use some cheap ass shit that cakes up,” you fisted your hands to hide your chipped nail paint as you felt the redness and shame crawling up your neck.
“Stop, Miss Bell! Thi–”
“I- I need to go,” you interrupted Jungkook and stood up. You messily collected your books and ran out without even putting them in your bag. You felt suffocated.
Jungkook could never be yours. You had nothing. You were average-looking, had no money to buy big brands, and had the most average life. and not to mention how you chose to bare yourself on the internet in front of strangers for money instead of going for an actual job.
You had nothing against people who did this with choice but you had never been this open-minded about it. Hell, you were still a virgin.
Long ago, your parents had a small business which earned enough for a healthy living. But because of your father's sudden illness, everything went to nothing. To pay the bills, your parents had to sell almost everything little by little and in that, the business went crashing. They sold the house and moved into a smaller house. It was still expensive. Hospital bills were stacking up. Most of your money went into that. It wasn't your choice to move away and stay like this. But desperate times bring desperate measures.
Why would Jungkook like you when you had too much shit to handle? He would probably walk away. Would he even look at you like you wanted? Never. You were his student, a twenty-one years old but still a student. While he was thirty years old successful professor.
It has been a week since MissPeach last came live.
You were kind of not feeling going on live after your qna. People, other than Daddy, made you feel like a worthless object that deserved nothing but to bare herself for the world to see. They had forgotten that there was an actual person with a heart that gets hurt as well.
So when you went live without any previous notice, you preferred to not talk at all and just release your stress. Plus you needed money to send it to your parents.
After coming back from your extra class with Jungkook, you could feel your arousal running down your thighs. Even though you weren't feeling good, your pussy had its own mind.
You were going to take care of your problem in private but you needed that money.
When the notification popped on Jungkook's phone, he quickly turned off the heat under the pasta and sat on the couch. He wasn't expecting you to go live but it was more than fine. He gets to talk to you.
The live started. You were sitting on your chair, wearing your underwear. A pastel blue set. Jungkook was quick to type the compliment and donate some money.
Bigdaddyj: My pretty baby looks so beautiful as always <3 –$300
He waited for you to say something but it never came. It was odd, you always replied to him.
You didn't say hi or ask how everyone's day was. Nothing.
Bigdaddyj: Baby? Everything alright?
You leaned back and sighed. Hooking up your thumbs with the corner of your panties, you removed them showing glistening folds.
Cummingdick: thank fuck this slut decided to show some pussy.
Randomdude: wanna fuck that hole so fucking bad💦
You slid your hand between your legs and teased your folds, not touching where you needed them the most. The slick was dripping down on your bed.
A blissful sigh escaped your throat when your cold fingers finally touched your throbbing clit. “Daddy,” you whimpered. It was your way to make him know that you acknowledge him and him only.
Jungkook’s cock hardened embarrassingly quickly. He knew something was not right and that MissPeach was feeling off but now when she moaned what she called him, he couldn't resist. He was sure that she was thinking of that professor but fuck he would be lying if that didn't just make him want to be delulu.
You picked up a lipstick and opened it. Dropping the cap, you picked another big blush brush with a metallic multi-coloured stick.
You pressed the button at the bottom of the lipstick and it started to buzz. Bringing it down to your clit, you gasped and moaned lewdly when the high vibrations buzzed through your veins.
“Oh my god, fuck,” you moaned.
Jungkook took out his cock from his sweatpants and stroked himself. This was one of his favourite toys that you owned paired with the brush wand in your hand. He always complimented her about it.
Bigdaddyj: Such a good girl, you are. Using Daddy's favourite toys. Hm? –$500
The ting of the donation made you look at the screen and made you moan knowing it was from Daddy. You turned on the brush and teased your hole with it. The double vibrations left you with your mouth wide open in a silent scream.
Slowly, you pushed the brush inside you. “Ah, Daddy please fuck me!” you screamed.
You closed your eyes and imagined Jungkook. He has been leaving subtle touches– not sexual. But they were enough for your weaker self.
You imagined his fingers rubbing your clit, spitting on it as his cock plunged into your filthy cunt. The vibrations against your G-spot made you see the stars.
It was embarrassing to admit that you had seen his huge bulge in the classroom sometimes.
You imagined how his hot cock would feel in your pussy as you rode him while his hands played with your tits, pinching your sensitive nipples. You just wanted him to wrap his hands around your throat and choke you as you lay under him with your knees touching your chin.
The overwhelming feeling of vibration from both the toys and the image of Jungkook ruining your cunt.
Jungkook matched the pace of your hand thrusting the damn thing in your swollen pussy. He was so close.
He had never seen MissPeach so out of it. He loved it.
His balls tightened, ready to burst anytime. Soon enough, his cock twitched and he emptied himself all over his white shirt when you moaned out loud and squirted. The brush slipped out of your cunt.
You dropped the lipstick thing and slapped your pussy as you squirted more and more with the image of Jungkook between your legs, lapping up your juices like the gentleman he is.
Your eyes and breath took time to adjust and when you felt normal, you turned off the live and sat there thinking about what just happened just like Jungkook who was hard again after seeing you squirt like a broken faucet.
You had never squirted in your whole life.
There was complete silence in Jungkook’s office. You were sitting in front of him, working on some theory. Your concentration was strong and you grasped everything perfectly.
Everything about you was quiet. You walked quietly, talked quietly, and even your breath was quiet. Not a single noise that you have ever made. However, you were even quieter after that class with Margot and that didn't slip from Jungkook’s attention.
Whenever you had any doubts, you would just slide your notebook or textbook across the table with a circle around the doubt.
He missed your voice.
Subconsciously, he noticed everything about you. You never talked to anybody. Never hung out in the canteen. Heck, he didn't even see you outside of these classes. It was as if you vanish after classes and only appear in the class.
Considering your age, he expected to catch you with a boy or a girl here and there. He had caught almost the rest of the students in such a compromising state. And he wasn't too old himself, just thirty years old, he knew what this generation's needs were.
He was, to say the least, concerned about you.
“Miss Park?” He called.
You looked up from your book and waited for him to continue. “I know it might come out as inappropriate but I couldn't help but notice how you are always on your own. Like, I've never seen you with someone else before and never outside of the classes. Is everything alright?”
You were wondering why he was suddenly interested in your pathetic life. “I don't think I get along well,” you whispered, thinking it should be enough and focused back on the book.
“Why not? You are smart and intelligent. I'm sure there are many who would want to be friends with you,” he said with enthusiasm to encourage her to have friends.
You just looked up at him again and shook your head and looked down again.
“That’s not the spirit, Miss Park. Trust me, friends come a long way. I have my childhood friends and other friends still in contact. Any need? They are right there for me,” he tried to reason.
You sighed, “Mr Jeon, I'm happy that you have such friends. But it's not everyone's thing. Not everybody is able to make friends. Sometimes it's better to be just… left alone. I would rather focus on studies, pass, and get out of here. I have no time for anything else.”
There were unspoken words left. Jungkook wanted to hear those. But he didn't press you much. He could see the wave of sadness that shifted on your face. He hated it.
He still blames himself for bringing Margot with him to the class. There was too much that these rich students (of course, not all but some) didn't understand. And he could see the maturity that you attained. He knew things were much deeper than mere relatability.
“Do you bring your lunch from home, Miss Park?” he abruptly asked.
You frowned but nodded.
“Did you bring it today as well?”
You nodded, again.
“Great! You should eat here. With me. I made some Jjajangmyeon and was wondering if I could have some company during lunch. It doesn't feel right without sharing… you can share your lunch with me!” he smiled, closed his laptop and placed the book he was going through away.
“I don't think you would want to have my lunch,” you nervously whispered.
“Oh, hush! Now pack up, it's lunchtime!”
Not even five minutes later, there were two bowls with noodles in it. Jungkook started to mix his bowl and pointed his eyes at yours with a smile, asking you to eat as well.
Jungkook had happily taken half of your sad American cheese sandwich and ate it with a huge smile. He had said that it was really good and you didn't believe him at all. But his following lines almost made you cry. They were— “You know, Miss Park, I always love food. It could be as simple as bread and butter or as complex as Korean BBQ. In the end, it's food. Not everyone gets to eat it. So I'm thankful for what I have and what I eat. No one should be ashamed of what they eat. As long as it fills up your stomach, it is good.”
This only added another reason why you loved hi–
Loved?
The moment you and Jungkook stepped into the library, he kept his eyes on you while you tried to find a specific book for your extra class.
Ever since he started giving you extra classes, he has paid more attention to you. And not from an academic perspective but as in you. He was hurt, to say the least.
You were alone. And he saw that right through your eyes.
Being away from one's home country and staying with ruthless rich young adults was not something as pleasant for someone from the working class. He felt for you. No details were needed to know that these people must have made your time here harder.
Since Margot, he had seen an utter decline in your health as well. Even in the stream, he noticed how your body had gone thinner.
Yes, he was certain that it was you, the MissPeach. But still, the odds were there.
After that lunch from yesterday, he had been thinking about you without any break. He couldn't even set the worksheet for juniors just because he was consumed by you. He kept seeing your tired eyes and the dark circles that stuck to them.
It took all the will to keep his fingers from caressing them and kissing them away. A strange wish to protect you and keep you arose within him that he never felt before.
It shook him, how much he had grown to care for you in just two weeks. He was afraid that you might break down at any moment.
You were this fragile little doll and yet so strong. He admired you. You were everything he ever wanted… scratch that, you were more than what he ever wanted. It was like he asked for an Apple but he got a basket full of apples with an apple pie. And love beside it.
Jungkook kept looking at you from where he was standing and smiled as you looked through the shelves of books to find what you needed. The tiny scrunching nose and your baby hair falling over your face… just adorable. He wished he could thread his fingers through them and tuck them behind your ears as his fingers brushed your nape, raising your goosebumps.
He smiled when he saw your eyes light up after you spotted the book you were finding. It was way above the shelf and you tried to reach it.
You looked too good to be true.
You tried reaching it with your right hand, and when failed, you switched to your left. As if that arm was longer than the other.
Jungkook chuckled and took one step to help you but instead, he froze in his place. His eyes wandered down and stopped at the naked skin just above your left hip. There it was. The pretty peachy peach sitting on your skin, taunting him.
His heart stopped for a moment and then ran faster like the wind in the thunderstorm.
Something feral ticked inside his guts.
You tried to reach for the book but it was too far up. Just as you were about to turn around and fetch the stool, a warm body pressed against your back and a hand rested on your covered right side. You didn't need to know who it was… that musky earthy scent was enough to make your heart beat like crazy knowing it was Jungkook.
You dumbly looked at his hand slowly grabbing the book and bringing it down to you. His hot breath fanned against your ear and his lips brushed against the shell of it.
And then he said in a deadly deep, low, and raspy voice, “I think, next time, you need to be more careful with your tattoo… MissPeach.”
The book dropped on the ground. Your eyes widened and your mouth parted open. Daddy. No one but Daddy knows.
Millions of haunting thoughts swirled in your head making you feel lightheaded. You were sure he was going to expose you and get you expelled.
“Meet me in my office, Miss Park,” he said and lightly kissed your ear. “Right now.”
The coldest warmth disappeared. So did your last brain cell.
You were doomed.
When you knocked on the door to the office, your soul almost left your body, trying to free itself from the humiliation.
The ever-soft “come in” made you realize that there was no going back. You fucked up.
How could he be Bigdaddyj? That shocked you to no end. You shouldn't have revealed that fucking tattoo of yours that night. But you felt a need to share at least one thing with that faceless stranger to feel something. To feel like you, too, had someone who knows your dirty secrets. Oh! The worst of all… the confession about masturbation.
Talk about sharing secrets. You scoffed at yourself.
Hesitantly, you opened the door and entered the room without looking up. You shut the door behind you extra tightly, making sure no one on the other side could hear anything. Unless they stuck their ears to the door.
Your body trembled as you stepped in front of his desk and stood there like a shivering statue. The inner screaming made you restless. This was too embarrassing to handle.
Your professor whom you have been crushing over since day one has seen you masturbate on the internet and the worst part is, he donated you good money as well.
He was going to ask for money, wasn't he? You cringed at yourself. How were you going to repay?
“Miss Park, I guess we both know what we are going to… discuss,” he started. You nodded. “Words… Miss Park.”
“Yes, Mr Jeon,” you whispered.
Jungkook stood up from his chair, “We had a nice talk in that stream, didn't we?”
The tears pricked your eyes so you kept your head down, keeping the sight of your face away from his expensive eyes.
He slowly walked around the table and stood behind you, caging you with his arms around you and placing his hands flat on the table. “It’s interesting, you know? To know that one of my students is a camgirl,” he whispered in your ear. “Do you want me to keep this dirty little secret for you, too?”
You nodded to you a few times, praying so that he could indeed keep this a secret. “Please,” you whispered in a weak tone.
“Hmm… but I want to know one thing in return, MissPeach…” his chest plastered with your back.
“Tell me one thing. Who is that professor whose thoughts make you wet, hm?” his jealousy made his brain fog up and let it out on you. “The one who gets you so fucking horny that you play with that pretty pussy in university with the toy that I sent you. Who is he? Is it Jimin? Or Namjoom? It has to be Namjoon. Big, ripped. He is the definition of hotness. I'm sure you imagine him licking your pretty pussy,” you couldn't imagine yourself. You felt dirty thinking about the image he was pasting. The only time you didn't feel dirty was when you imagined Jungkook and only Jungkook. The idea of being with any other professor made you cringe harder.
The more he talked about you being with some other person, the more tears dropped down your cheeks. You didn't want to admit that it was him. You promised yourself that you would let him paint whatever picture he wanted and never tell him the truth.
“Imaging his dick in your pussy? Isn't it? You would love that, wouldn't you? Having Namjoon’s dick in you and just ju—”
“You!” you screeched when he didn't stop. Into the well went the promise. It was too hard to listen to him.
Jungkook went rigid, “what?”
Your body trembled violently, “it’s you that I think about!” you let it out as your voice cracked.
“Y/n,” you felt his hands on your arms turning you around to face him. “Look me in the eyes, please.”
You looked up and he felt his heart break. Your face was red with tears running down. “Please, Mr Jeon. I beg you to keep this a secret, please! I will do anything you want. I-I’ll do better at Chemistry. But keep this to yourself. I can't– I can't afford to get kicked out. Everything will get ruined. Please n—”
Your words died when your face squished against his warm and hard chest. His one hand threaded through your hair and the other one rubbed your back.
“I’m sorry, Princess,” he whispered. “I won't ever tell this to anyone, baby. There is nothing wrong. I may have– no… I definitely let my jealousy take over and act like an idiot. You have done absolutely nothing wrong.”
Your eyes were wide open but they relaxed. Your shaky hands reluctantly circled around him and hugged him back. You felt warm. Not only on the outside but inside as well. The ice of burden melted for a while with the warmth he gave you. His fingers caressing your scalp made your head feel better. His hand running along your spine calmed your inner screamings.
Strangely enough, he was all you needed at that moment.
You just wanted to melt into his warmth and become a part of him.
As ridiculous as it looked, it was magical. Healing even.
You felt his nose against your head and he sniffed before pulling himself away just a little to see your face.
Jungkook gently wiped your cheeks and tucked your loose locks behind your ears. Your soft gaze softened his heart and he kept looking into them.
His hands cupped your face and pulled you closer to his face. Your nose touched with his and his minty fresh breath fanned your face.
Without using any words, he asked for your permission. As much as your brain was screaming to push him and run away, your mind made your head nod.
His eyes smiled.
And then he let his soft lips be on yours. Everything about him was warm and soft.
His lips lapped yours in a slow kiss. It was not lusty or heated but the one where he expressed more than he could say. The care, the love, the admiration. He didn't only kiss your lips but your soul. Dramatic but made sense.
Your lips moved in sync.
Jeon Jungkook was your first kiss.
He was careful trying not to hurt you. He held your face as if it was made of glass. Your hands were clutching his shirt as if you let go, you might actually break. It felt like a fever dream, the one from which you never wanted to wake up.
Your lips parted away from his and your forehead rested against his. You opened your eyes unhurriedly and saw him already looking at you.
“Jealousy?” you asked.
Jungkook’s hands slid down and held your waist, “you might have stolen my heart, Princess,” he deeply whispered. “Let it be MissPeach or Miss Park… your both of those sides snatched my heart. You have no idea how bad I've been wanting to be with you, baby,” his thumbs drew circles on your waist. “At first it was the fascination of MissPeach but since I have started to get to know you, I've been dying to make you mine, Princess. You fucked up my mind… And I love it. I love it more than I should,” he breathily chuckled.
“How did you know it was me?” your mind was blurred with proximity.
“Believe me or not but it was your hands that made me realize and when you talked, I knew it was MissPeach,” he said and kissed the tip of your nose.
“My hands?” you frowned and looked at your hands. You turned them around to see what gave them off.
Jungkook chuckled and held your hands in his large ones. Bringing them closer to his lips, he pecked them. “Everything you allowed me to see and hear, I know them. A single look and a single noise of you will always make me know that it's you, Princess.”
You were at a loss for words. “But why would you pay attention to a girl who fucks herself for everyone to see?”
With two fingers, he lifted up your chin and looked into your eyes, “You are not just a girl, Y/n. You are my girl. And don't think of yourself any less just because you are a camgirl. I know you and know that you are better than anyone I have ever known.” You could see the concern swimming in his pebble eyes. “I want you to be mine, baby. Is that too much to ask?”
“You are my professor,” you voiced your fear. “What if someone finds out?”
“Not forever,” he kissed your forehead. “And no one will find out. Just one and a half more years, baby. Then we can be free and be ourselves. Give it a try, okay?”
You had nothing to lose.
“Okay.”
Little peeking and pecking kept going on between Jungkook and you. Small smiles and reassuring pats on the back were a new routine that the two of you followed.
There was no need for any extra classes anymore but it only felt right and it was the only way to spend some time without anyone interrupting or feeling highly alerted.
You were sitting on the chair, working through some practical problems on your own. Nothing was better than this. Sitting in your professor's office, studying peacefully, stealing some kisses and praises, and just existing together— no more existing alone.
Jungkook was leaning against the table next to you, running his fingers through your luscious locks. It was his newly found habit that he loved the most.
His fingers traced your forehead, moving along your temple down to your chin, he raised your head and looked deep into your eyes. His thumb grazed your lower lip. His eyes were taking in the softness of your lips.
Leaning down till your foreheads touched, he said, “Have I ever told you how fucking beautiful you are, Princess?”
“Like ten minutes ago,” you closed your eyes and took in the closeness.
“Really?” he gasped. “I should tell you that more often than that,” you giggled. Something in his chest warmed up. “You are the most perfect person I have seen, baby.”
“Yeah?” He hummed in answer. “But don't you think that other girls are perfect and I’m nothing in front of them? They have perfect features and perfect bodies. Their hair is always well-styled and their makeup is seamless. And their skin looks baby-soft all the time.”
It was odd to unfold your insecurities like this.
Jungkook inhaled, “look at me, baby,” he asked in the softest voice. When you opened your eyes and looked into his eyes, he began, “They are pretty and perfect. Just not for me. Everyone is pretty and perfect in their own little ways. And you, my darling, are the most perfect and breathtaking woman I've ever seen in my life. They are pretty in my eyes, but you are prettier. They might have the softest skin but I only want to caress your sweet cheeks. Their hairstyles take much effort, probably but yours are the ones that make my heart flutter. Everything you do is far better than them for me. So, never say that ever again. Of course, if you feel insecure, you tell me. I'll make sure to make you feel like the queen that you are. And if anyone touches you to tell you otherwise, they will be seeing a version of me that nobody asked.”
Your heart quivered. No one has ever made you feel the way Jungkook did. Older men like him always know how to be a gentleman. Nothing compares to him. You were sure that he was a cleaner version of Zade Meadows.
Something else has been bothering you. “Mr Jeon…”
“Yes, baby?” he caressed your cheek.
“I–I masturbate on live streams. Doesn't that bother you?” you looked everywhere but his eyes.
Jungkook straightened up and walked back to his seat and sat down. “Come here,” he patted his lap.
You stood up and shakily walked to him. His hands clutched your sides and made you sit on his lap, your legs on his either side and back against the table.
His hands rubbed your sides to calm your trembles. “Why do you ask that?”
“I don't know,” you whispered.
“You didn't go live since that day, baby. Why is that?” you rested your palms on his shoulders.
“I wasn't sure if you would like that, me going live after everything happened between us,” you hated to talk about this but it was necessary. And the sooner you talk about this, the better.
“Do you enjoy doing lives? Tell me honestly, okay?” he asked. His eyes held nothing but understanding. That made it easier for you. But you still took some time. Were you really into this whole ordeal? “Baby?” Jungkook shook you out of your head.
“I don't,” you blur out. Jungkook's eyebrows raised in half surprise and half question. “Well, not as much. I guess the more I did the more I became used to it. There are things I don't like about it. And if I had other options, I would have never gone this way.”
His hands moved to your back, and seeing your shiny eyes made his heart ache. He pulled you closer to his chest, your head resting in the crook of his neck. “Then why are you doing this, pretty? Why is there no other option?”
You inhaled his intoxicating scent before you began, “My father had a business. It had about two million worth of average turnover. It was going perfectly. My mother was a housewife. We were living a perfect little life like any other middle-class family. We had a two-story house in the city and two cars. Nothing else was needed. However, everything came crashing down one day…” Jungkook felt wet against his neck, it squeezed his heart but he kept listening as he rubbed your back.
“He was rushed to the hospital and we got a call. My father had a brain tumour. It was bad. It affected such parts of the brain that made his body non-functional. I was still a minor and wasn't aware of much. Things took a great turn and in a span of a few years, everything that my father built from scratch was gone.
His medical bills were amassing up. We had to sell everything. We sold one car. A year later from that incident, we sold our house,” you choked on your words. Your hands clutched Jungkook's shirt tightly in your fist. “We moved closer to the hospital but outside the city. It was a one-room apartment. It had no rooms. Just a space which had one kitchen and one door that led to the bathroom. Nothing else.
We lived there. My parents still live there. I worked hard every day to get a scholarship. I forgot what it was like to sleep or have fun. In that little space, three of us were… we were just there. Not really alive. But just three beating hearts. I passed my exam. I got the scholarship,” you took a deep shaky breath.
“I got into the University I always wanted. I maintained my grades so that I could change my and my parents’ lives. My professors there were impressed with my performance so they persuaded me to give my name in the student exchange program. I wasn't sure before but they said that it was only going to help me and make my resume look like a quote-unquote shining star
“Good things come with their own bitterness. Even if the fee was forgiven, I still had to reach here. We didn't have enough funds for that so we ended up selling our second car. I preferred to live off-campus. It wasn't the most sane idea but it was harder to be in a dorm.
“So when I came here, I found a job as a barista but that didn't pay any of my bills. And my parents needed money as well. My mother couldn't work because she needed to look after my father all the time. So, I took responsibility because they spent too much on me for me to come here. And I didn't want to be a burden.
“So the only option I was left with was live streaming. It pays my rent and the rest goes to my parents. For hospital bills and all. Nothing else earned me enough but this. So I had to do what I do now.”
It was a dead silence. Jungkook's hands on your back stopped moving somewhere in between. You wanted him to say something or at least run your back to comfort you. But when you raised your head and looked at his face, silent tears were running down his closed eyes. He was biting his lip so that no voice escaped him.
He wanted to comfort you by staying strong but it was harder than it was in his head.
“Jungkook,” you first time took his name. It made his heart flutter. He opened his eyes and just looked at you. You looked tired and it all made sense to him. You stayed away from everyone and closed yourself off just so you could work hard towards your goals and make something out of your life. To make a difference in the family and help them.
You took steps out of your liking and comfort zone just so your parents could have a little bit of ease on themselves. You were beyond perfect. You were more than an angel.
You were too good to be true.
He choked on his words, “I’m sorry, baby. I didn't mean to cry but I just can't help,” his last three words were almost inaudible.
Your heart clenched and fresh tears poured out of your eyes. Holding his face in your tiny hands, you wiped his tears and kissed the tip of his nose. “Thank you,” you whispered.
“For what, baby?” he sniffed.
“…just take it,” you kissed his cheek.
He smiled and pecked your glossy lips. “You know that I’m so proud of you, baby. And you just keep on making me prouder every single day. I admire your will and strength. There is nothing that can stop you from chasing your dreams, pretty girl. And I'll be right next to you to make sure that you have everything in the world you need to keep you happy. I'll take all of your tensions and work on them with you. You don't have to worry about anything. Let me know the bank details and I'll take care of your parents’ expenses from now on.”
“No,” you said. “I don't want you to do that at all. All I want from you is to be here. Let me take care of my parents, please. I don't wanna take anything from you. The only thing I want is you and nothing else,” you were aware of the blind money that this university paid to their A-listed professors and Jungkook happened to be one of them. But you weren't here for money but for him.
“I will be always here with you just like right now,” he whispered against your lips before joining them.
He bit your lip lightly making you gasp. The innocent kiss turned into a heated one. Taking the opportunity, he shoved his tongue inside your mouth. You let him explore your mouth as you did his. He sucked your lower lip and let it go.
Your jaw was littered with kisses and licks as he found his way to your neck. It took him two seconds to find your soft spot and sucked on it, making you hum. Your hands threaded through his hair and fisted them.
Your nails against his scalp made his cock twitch in his pants and it got harder the more you moaned. He looked into your eyes. “Baby, we need to stop before I do something else,” he warned you.
You whined, “No, please don't stop now,” you begged.
“But you are not fine right now,” he tried to reason.
“I won't be if you don't touch me! Make me forget everything but you, Mr Jeon! Make me feel free… Please fuck me!” you begged.
Something ticked inside him. His eyes went feral. The blood left his brain and rushed straight into his cock. He swiped everything from his table and dropped you on it. He hastily removed his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. He came closer and attached your forehead with his As he looked into your eyes.
In a low, deadly voice, I’m going to fuck you senseless, baby. I'll make sure we leave this campus with you in my arms and not on your feet.”
Jungkook removed his shirt and shortly his pants followed behind. He lets you take in his body. Your jaw slacked open. He had a murderous figure. His chest was big and his abs were defined. What made your pussy throb like a bitch was his right arm which was adorned with tattoos. You knew about the hand tattoos but you never knew about the arm. He was full of surprises.
His thighs were big and stiff. You knew it. Every time he made you sit on his lap, you knew they had their own glory and you wanted to ride it anytime.
It looked like God himself— no, the Devil himself carved this man. There was no way that God would create something this sinful.
“Like what you see, Princess?” if you knew his voice could go any deeper, you would have controlled yourself better. But you let out a loud moan just by hearing his voice while shamelessly looking at his body. The outline of his humongous cock didn't go unnoticed.
“Oh my God,” you shakily whispered.
Jungkook didn't wait any longer, his patience was already running low. His fingers played with the hem of your blouse, waiting for you to give him the green light.
It took a shy smile and a nod from you for him to go wild. He removed your shirt and captured your lips between his. Your tongues fought for dominance.
The bra was next to go. Your sensitive nipples hardened as the cool air touched them.
Then his eyes fell on that little tattoo that made him untamed. That little peach above your hip teased him. “That is going to kill me someday, baby,” he grunted.
Jungkook cupped your tits and kissed his way to them. He pushed you down on the table and lapped on your left nipple. His left hand cupped your other tit and his right hand fondled with your pants button.
He opened it and slid his hand in your panties. His fingers touched your leaking pussy and slid lower to your hole. He brought his wet fingers to your clit and rubbed it slowly making you moan out his name.
He chuckled darkly, “Look at you, all wet for me,” he teasingly bit your nipple as his eyes were fixed on your face. He loved how your face scrunched up with pleasure.
He took the other nipple in his mouth and repeated the assault on them. Slowly, he kissed down your sternum. His warm lips hovered above your tattoo and then he kissed it. You thrashed under him as he kept licking and sucking the spot. He was satisfied when the pastel colours of your tattoo had a deep red and purple hue around it.
He waited for this, to see your face while the tremors of pleasure ran through your body. None of your lives could compete with the real thing that you had. And Jungkook worshipped it.
He pinched your clit and made your back arch, pushing your breast more into his hungry mouth. He loved how your body reacted to his touches. And the forbidden nature of the relationship made him hornier.
It was so wrong yet so right.
“This needs to go, baby,” he rasped. His hands impatiently removed your pants along with your panties. “Fuck,” he grunted.
No, seriously… the real thing could never match the screen.
Jungkook took a seat and pulled you closer by your legs. He dropped your legs on his shoulder, kissing his way up to your pussy. Your legs trembled around his head as he got closer.
Supporting yourself up with your elbows, you looked into his mischievous eyes. You had never seen such a look in his eyes. Your heart felt glad that it was that way. Not in a million years, you wanted him to give this look to someone else.
He teased your pussy by giving light kisses on your folds. But he gave in as you started to whine. The moment you felt his hot lips pressed onto your pussy, your eyes rolled back as you fell back. His lips wrapped around your throbbing clit and sucked it.
Your nails scratched the wooden table as his tongue played with you. He lapped your dripping hole and moaned as your sweet taste coated his mouth.
The vibrations of his moans made your legs wrap around his head harder but he slapped them away. “Be a good little kitten for me, baby.”
“Please,” you moaned.
“Please what?” he bit your clit.
“Please, sir.”
“Oh, fuck!” he grunted as he found out his new kink. His cock got harder, which surprised him. “What do you want, Princess? Tell me, baby. Tell your professor what your needy cunt wants.”
Another wave of sinful shocks travelled your belly as he talked dirty making you cry out in bliss, “Your fingers! Please, sir!”
He smirked at you and licked your clit just as he pushed two of his fingers in your cunt. Your brows scrunched up and your mouth fell open.
His long, thick fingers filled you up. They moved along with the rhythm of his tongue and did come hither motion, teasing your g-spot.
His fingers picked up the pace and fucked you. He could feel your climax coming closer as your pussy throbbed around his fingers. He didn't stop and soon enough, your back arched, your mouth opened in a silent scream, and came all over his fingers.
Jungkook almost came in his boxers when your needy cunt squirted all over him. He didn't stop sucking on your clit and plunged his fingers until he got everything you had for him.
He removed his fingers and looked into your eyes as he licked his fingers clean. He bent over you with his arms next to your head, “You taste so fucking sweet, Princess. So fucking pretty.”
You pulled him in and smashed your lips against his lips and tasted yourself. “You know, that day on live, it was my first time squirting and I was thinking about you doing exactly this.”
“Baby, you are going to fucking kill me,” he said as he cock twitched and begged to be released. He made a quick move in discarding his boxers and freed his cock as it smacked against your pussy.
You pulled apart and looked down at his angry, throbbing cock. Your eyes bulged out at the length and the girth of it. His cock was bigger and fatter than any of your little toys. You weren't sure if he was going to fit.
“I don't think that will fit in,” you whispered, still glancing at his monstrosity.
He chuckled darkly and pecked your lips, “Baby, my dick was made to serve your pretty little cunt,” he hummed in your ear as his hand slid his cock on your slit, making it slicker with your cum. “So, your cunt will take,” he aligned his cock with your hole, “this,” he pushed his angry head in, “fucking,” your eyes rolled as his cock practically ripped your insides, “dick,” he shoved it to the hilt.
His breath came out in pants. He kissed your lips as you got used to his size. “So fucking warm and tight,” he mumbled against your lips. “It’s all mine… all mine.”
“More,” you gasped. “Fuck me like I’m your slut!”
Jungkook smirked as his cock twitched in your cunt. He slowly pulled out a few inches and shoved his cock back, making you moan. His veiny cock rubbed your walls perfectly and the curve of his cock made his hot head caress your G-spot.
It was an overwhelming feeling but in a good way.
Slowly he picked up his pace and fucked you. His right hand went between your body and rubbed your clit. “Oh my God!” you moaned.
He looked between your bodies where you were sucking him in. His cock twitched seeing how your pussy was all spread open around his cock. The velvety warm walls of your cunt made it harder for him to stay sane. He was trembling just like you.
“So perfect for me, baby. So perfect,” he whispered as he kissed your neck. “I’m gonna fuck you do good. I'm gonna fuck my pretty little slut so good that she forgets everything but me.”
“Jungkook!” your moan turned into a gasp when you felt a sting on your ass cheek. Jungkook rubbed the area where he had just spanked you. He looked you in the eye with a murderous glare. He stopped his thrusts.
“What do you say, slut?” he growled. “I think you are asking for a punishment. Hm?” you screamed when his heavy hand landed on your sensitive clit.
“I’m sorry, sir,” you whimpered as another hard blow landed on your other asscheek. Your pussy clenched around his cock. He loved it. He loved how you took everything he gave you. Such a pretty little slut for him.
“You like being spanked, don't you?” His thrusts were slow and hard. Your tits jiggled with each stroke. “Look at you, your cunt is practically suffocating me.”
You cried, “Please, sir. I'll be a good girl. Please, harder.”
He leaned in, shoved his tongue down your throat and pushed your legs up. He picked up an animalistic pace and fucked you to oblivion. The sound of skin slapping got louder. His balls slapped your ass.
“Open your mouth,” he ordered.
Like an obedient little slut, you opened your mouth and slipped your tongue out. He collected the spit in his mouth and spat on your tongue. “Swallow,” he moaned as you clenched so badly around his shaft. You swallowed his spit and showed him your mouth. “Good Girl.”
He wrapped his free hand around your neck and squeezed it just enough for you to breathe properly but tight enough to make your pussy throb like a bitch.
“Such a perfect little slut for me,” he grunted. “So fucking kinky and dirty. Just as I love it,” he pinched your clit.
“Only for you!” you gasped.
“Yes, baby. Only for me. I'm never gonna let you go. Do whatever you want, pretty. Do as many lives as you want but only I can touch and fuck this pussy. Only mine,” he bit your lips.
Jungkook could feel you throb around his cock, telling him that you were close. “So close,” you whimpered against his mouth.
“Cum, Princess. Cum for Daddy,” your legs trembled and your back arched as let you cum all over his cock and helped your ride through it.
“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod,” you screamed.
Jungkook held your legs and fucked you ruthlessly as he chased his own high. He could feel your cum coating his cock. His head felt light as he finally came inside your pussy.
His hot cum filled your pussy to the brim. You felt a small wave of orgasm hit you as he came.
He panted and hugged you closer. His head rested on your chest and listened to your running heartbeat. He loved it. He loved feeling you all naked on his desk. Your hands found their home in his hair as they caressed his scalp. “Baby, are you alright?” he asked.
“Yeah,” you panted. You took in the closeness and appreciated every moment with him.
After a moment, Jungkook pulled and looked at your pussy leaking your and his mixed cum. If it were someone else, the thought would never have crossed his mind but looking at your pussy, he wanted to eat it clean. It looked so delicious and creamy. It was as if she was inviting him and taunting him. He needed to eat you.
So he did that.
He sat on his chair and pulled you closer to him and without a warning, he licked your sensitive pussy from your hole to the clit.
You whimpered as he overstimulated your pussy. “Too sensitive.”
“Give me one more, Baby. Just one more. I know you can,” he said and shoved his tongue into your hot cunt and ate till you came on his tongue once again.
You were a trembling mess. You could still feel his cock in your stomach as he got up to clean you. When he gently wiped your pussy with a wet tissue, you flinched but he rubbed his free hand on your side, down to your leg, soothing you and getting you through this.
You looked at his face which was glowing and had an admirable smile on his pretty face. His cheeks and ears were red. He looked at you with stars in his eyes and felt like crying.
Nobody had ever looked at you the way he did. But again, nobody was Jungkook but him.
“Let's go to my place, yeah? I don't want to leave without you. I need you to be closer to me. We can cuddle, watch movies, have dinner, and do anything you want, okay?” he said as he cleaned his softening cock and got dressed up.
You thought for a moment, “Okay…” you didn't want to be alone either. You craved his touch and warmth. This was your first time, it only made you want him more.
“Let's get you dressed up as well,” he smiled.
Jungkook held your hands and helped you off the table but your trembling legs gave up. He caught you and hugged you against his chest. You looked up with your mouth open as you felt sore. He gave you a knowing smirk.
To say the least, he ended up carrying you out of the university to his car.
“Oh my God!” you sulked in the corner of the couch as you curled into a ball. “Someone could have walked in!”
It was amusing for Jungkook to watch you just realize that you two had sex in his office at the University. He wondered how only now you registered it and not before while he was buried in your pussy.
“I had my door locked, sweety. Don't worry,” he chuckled as stood by the dining table, mixing the chocolate cake batter.
“Some could have knocked or worse,” you looked up at him with eyes wide open and your expression morphed into horror, “heard us!”
He left the bowl on the dining table and sat beside you, pulling you on his lap. He cupped your pouting face and kissed your lips softly. “Nothing happened, right? So don't worry, my love. Come help me bake the cake and then we will have dinner.”
You hummed and pecked his lips. “Okay, Mr Jeon.”
“Jungkook. It's Jungkook for you, Princess… or Daddy. The choice is yours,” he winked, making you laugh.
Later that night, Jungkook kissed every inch of you. He started from your forehead to your toes. He loved the idea of having you in his bed. He lent you his shirt that was too big for your frame. You wore nothing else under that shirt. He fanboyed over you and worshipped you.
“You look effortlessly beautiful,” he mumbled as he kissed your jaw. “You have me wrapped around your pinky finger in just a couple of weeks, hm.”
You giggled as you rubbed your hand along his tattooed arm. “I never knew you had tattoos.”
Jungkook laid beside you and in his arms and looked at his right arm. “I never show them in the University. When I had recently joined, everyone used to stare. It was a distraction so I started wearing full sleeves.”
“Of course, they will be distracted. And now I will, too! Now whenever I'm going to see you, I will see what's beneath your clothes,” you said.
Jungkook smirked, “Yeah? You will imagine me naked in the class now?” he teased. “I’m your Professor, Princess. Have some shame.”
You narrowed your eyes. “Where was your shame when you ripped my pussy with that sinful thing you call your dick?”
His chest rumbled with a laugh, making you smile. “Touché… I can't really complain, can I? I'll be seeing you naked, too,” he kissed your lips tenderly. “You fucked me up, Princess. I thought it was just lust for MissPeach but fuck, I would be lying if I didn't say I feel more than that and feel like protecting you from everything… Thank you for giving me a chance, love. I'll make sure that you are happy from now on. I'll take care of you from now on.”
“But—”
“Shh,” his finger on your lips shut you up. “I know that it is too soon but please move in here with me, yeah? You don't have to worry about the rent, I own this place. I don't feel good about letting you live alone. It is too soon but you can try, please. As I said before, you can stream as much as you want and support your parents. But let me take care of you. It hurts me to see you tired and not taken care of. So, let me do it. And if someone suspects something. Just say that I rent you a room in the apartment and if they still have any issues, bring them to me and don't hide if someone is rude to my pretty girl, okay?”
“I don't deserve your kindness, Jungkook,” you smiled with watery eyes. “But I'll be selfish for once and take it.”
He smiled and kissed you again. “That's my good girl,” he whispered and turned you around.
Your back was plastered with his warm chest. His arm circled your body and his hand pathed its way between your legs. He cupped your pussy and shoved his two fingers in. His other hand slid under your shirt and groped your breast.
You gasped, “what…?”
Jungkook kissed your shoulder, “you will sleep better. And I get to be closer to you,” he whispered. “Now sleep, Princess.”
You bit your lip and melted in his chest. Your insides exploded with giddiness. It did indeed feel good to have his fingers in your pussy as you fell asleep.
It was the best night ever.
“You deserve all the kindness in the world, Baby.”
Epilogue.
12 years later.
The heel of your red bottoms tapped on the floor as you walked down the corridor and you reached your apartment door.
You weren't supposed to go but there was an emergency at the hospital where you were an Oncologist. Luckily, everything was under control and you got to leave sooner. But it was still late.
You entered the passcode and opened the door. However, you were left surprised.
The lights were off but the living room was blooming with candle lights. The floor was covered with roses. There was a lingering scent of your favourite candle along with the mouth-watering aroma of the food.
You walked in and saw Jungkook standing in the middle of the living room. His face was glowing with a perfect toothy smile. “Happy 10th anniversary, Princess.”
You dropped your bag and ran into his arms. He chuckled as you jumped on him. He caught you, spinning you around. Yours and his giggles filled the happy place.
“Happy anniversary to you too, love,” you whispered in his ear. “You didn't have to do any of this.”
“But I wanted to,” he smiled. “Did I tell you that you are gorgeous?”
“About billions of times,” you giggled.
“Ah, still not enough,” he kissed your lips with passion. “I need to tell you that even more.”
“You will go crazy,” you cupped his face.
“I went crazy the day I actually looked at you, Baby,” his nose touched yours. “I love being crazy for you. I love being crazy in love with you. The day you let me have you was the day you made me go insane. I still cry thinking about how the fuck I got so lucky to have you. You are so intelligent, smart, and strong. You did everything for your parents and I don't know how I got you but it's all I ever wanted. Being in love with you makes me realize how addicting you are. All I want is you for me to settle my cravings.
A shy smile tugged at your lips as your eyes watered. “I love you so much, Jungkook. I have no words for it.”
“I see it, Love. I know it,” he hugged you tightly. “Come on, dinner is getting cold.”
In these years, you have come so far. You were no longer a streamer but a well-known Oncologist.
You worked hard towards your dreams and Jungkook stood by your side and supported you. You had nothing to worry about because he was there. Everything fell into one place.
Your father got operated on. Things turned out to be better. He was recovering. But he was fine. When you were settled enough, you asked them to come here. They did. It was the best feeling ever.
Through physical therapy, your father was able to move his body and showed a huge difference in a small amount of time. However, he was still suggested to keep the wheelchair around outside. He was weaker but better.
They were living at the apartment where you lived with Jungkook in University. Along with them, Jungkook’s parents moved into that apartment to help them around. It was fun to have them around, all four of them. They formed a perfect bond in a blink of an eye.
You both bought a new apartment when you found out about your pregnancy four years ago. Jungkook was over the moon and stuck by you like a monkey. He took care of you and the baby.
Two years later you gave birth to another baby. It was a complete family and nothing else was needed.
Jungkook always wanted two kids, a girl and a boy. Now that you had them, he was satisfied with his life. He bragged about you and the babies to everyone. Even at University, he would show baby videos to all of his colleagues.
He proposed to you for marriage right after you completed your degree. He was excited to make you his. He spent hours planning for the wedding that you both wanted.
Everybody teased you about how crazy he was for you.
In the beginning, everyone was disgusted and unaccepting of your relationship. However, everything settled when they saw how genuine you two were. It was as if you two couldn't breathe without each other.
When you became a Doctor, Jungkook cried happy tears and told you how proud he was and that he knew you were going to do big things in life.
That night he showed you so much love.
“Where are Seol and Jae?” you asked about your kids.
“I dropped them at our parents’. I wanted to have you all by myself. In the end, it is our anniversary,” he winked at you with a devilish look on his face.
“Is that so?” you smirked.
“After dinner, be a good girl and go into our room… naked and ass up for me,” his hand grabbed your ass and squeezed it as you looked at him with a slutty look.
“Yes, sir.”
…..
Taglist:
@veneziamadness @cheline @sansmilkbread @jayb17 @constantlydelulusional @8tinytings @tea4sykes @chimmisbae
Have a nice day/night💓
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ellecdc · 3 months
Note
hi! i absolutely love your works, particularly your poly!marauders(w/lily). i think you write them so beautifully and harmoniously that you can't help but fall in love with them.
i wanna compliment you on your recent two-parter about remus and the whole revealing the werewolf thing. the angst to fluff had me on the edge of my seat. thank you for writing such a piece! 🤍
i hope its not too much to ask but in part 1, there's a brief mention of sirius receiving letters from i can assume is his family that lily confiscates and the group tends to love on him a bit more. let's say reader isn't in the loop about sirius' family life and she feels a bit sad that she can't comfort sirius like the rest can, and in general feels lost because it's another thing she isn't 'let in on'. i was wondering if you could write a little something on that? maybe some misunderstandings with a fluffy ending?
i hope this is something you're ok w writing 🥹 if not, its ok! still wish u the best always!
this is so sweet - thank you! & thanks for your request - hope you like it!!
pt 1 // pt 2 // pt 3 // pt 4 // pt 5
poly!marauders + lily x fem!reader who find's her own way to comfort Sirius - 2.1k
CW: brief mention of Sirius' childhood, allusions to anxiety, our shy Hufflepuff reader, hurt comfort, Sirius-centric
There was this saying that you never really understood before.
Love makes you do crazy things. 
And while the definition of crazy may be up for debate, you’re quite sure it could be understood as acting completely out of character.
So here you were, acting completely out of character; voluntarily marching towards a secluded end of the library where three Slytherin’s were sitting that you had - up until this point - managed to avoid completely. 
But you couldn’t, wouldn’t, avoid them any longer; not now, not for Sirius. 
The dust settled relatively well after the news of Remus’ lycanthropy had been shared with you; the five of you seemed to find a sort of freedom in not having to hide from one another anymore. Remus could be himself, the other’s could love him appropriately, and you could too. 
But another one of those black envelopes with  a green wax seal showed up at breakfast yesterday, and the group delved into their usual hide-the-envelope-and-coddle-Sirius practice. 
Lily took the envelope and disposed of it, James and Sirius had a floo call with the Potter’s, and Remus’ mum and dad sent baked goods from Wales via owl. 
You had since gathered that these letters were coming from his parents, or at the very least from someone in the Black family; you had also gathered that the contents of the letter’s were hurtful or upsetting to Sirius. And even though he never got to read them, a heavy cloud seemed to form and follow the young ex-heir around. 
And your heart felt heavy; not because they were keeping anything from you, per se, but rather because they seemed to have a routine that didn’t include you.
And while you didn’t want to encroach in spaces that you weren’t necessarily invited in, you couldn’t help but feel like you should be doing more. 
Lily, James, and Remus all had something they could offer Sirius; they all had some way that they could support him. 
You didn’t.
And it wasn’t for a lack of trying on your part, but rather that no one seemed particularly inclined to burden you with any negativity. 
“Don’t worry about me, babydoll; this is standard Black stuff. I’ll be just fine.” Sirius had said when you asked if he was okay; his usual salacious smile significantly dimmed as it seemingly took the majority of his effort in his response. 
The others hadn’t been much help either; Remus and James effectively telling you that you were too sweet to have to worry about such horrid people, and Lily trying to assure you that they had it under control and not to worry - Sirius would be okay. 
And that was all well and good, but it wasn’t enough for you - it was about sodding time you started pulling your weight in this relationship.
So - with nothing more than the teeniest bit of courage you were sure you pilfered from your four Gryffindors and perhaps a healthy dose of delusion - you forced your feet to take you in the direction of the only person in the entire castle you thought might possibly be able to help you. 
“My, my, my; to what do we owe the absolute pleasure, little Puffle?” Barty Crouch Junior mocked as you paused at their table; Evan Rosier and Regulus Black picking their heads up to look at you incredulously and bemusedly respectful. 
“Did ya get lost there, L/N? Need me to find you one of your Gryffindor’s?” Evan taunted, earning him what looked like a kick in the shin from Regulus, though you couldn’t be certain on account of the table impeding your view.
“Erm…I-I was sort of wondering if I could speak with you, Regulus?” You managed to murmur awkwardly.
The three Slytherin’s seemed to have a silent conversation as they shared glances before Barty shrugged and Evan rolled his eyes; both standing and leaving the two of you some privacy. 
Regulus watched as you cast a hasty muffliato around the table - another trick you’d picked up from the Gryffindor’s - and as you helped yourself to a seat with your boyfriend’s younger brother. 
“Is Sirius okay?” Regulus asked quickly, his voice no more than an urgent whisper as he looked at you imploringly.
His intensity caught you off guard; you were so certain getting anything out of the notoriously stand-offish Slytherin would be next to impossible, but he had beat you to the conversation and seemed to be just as worried about his brother as you were. 
You remembered then why you liked Slytherin’s so much; you often found a kindred spirit in them, for one thing that a Slytherin valued most was a sense of loyalty.
Well, didn’t you have enough loyalty to use to your advantage. 
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You wondered rather belatedly if you had overstepped. It was admittedly too late to ask yourself this now; standing outside of the boys’ dorm with a package in your hand.
What’s done is done. You had a one-track mind, and that was to help Sirius.
With this, you raised your hand and gently knocked on the door.
It had been James to open the door; his jaw tense until he saw you, which seemed to cause his face to melt into an awkward expression you couldn’t quite decipher.
“Hi angel.” He greeted apologetically. “You okay?”
You were confused by his greeting, and his question, and the fact that he hadn’t moved out of the way of the door to invite you in as he usually did.
“I’m fine.” You responded quickly, trying to look behind him. “What’s wrong?”
James made a sound of discomfort in the back of his throat as he looked over his shoulder, still not moving to allow you entry. 
“Listen, sweetheart; I’m not sure now is a great time…”
“It’s Sirius, is it?” You asked quickly. His responding grimace proving your suspicions. “I need to see him.”
“Sweets, maybe you could come back la-”
But later wasn’t good enough, you see. You had a one-track mind, and that was to help Sirius.
So, in the name of love making you do crazy things and still acting completely out of character for you, you shoved your way past James’ hip, bending under his arm to allow yourself your own entrance to the boys’ dormitory. 
Lily sat at the end of Sirius’ bed where she had one hand resting on his ankle; her thumb stroking back-and-forth over his achilles tendon.
Remus sat against the headboard with Sirius in his arms; his lips pressed against his hair as he murmured sweet nothings to him.
And as you stepped closer, you could see an indent where James had been sitting, opposite of Lily likely serving the same support as your red-headed girlfriend.
“Siri?” You asked quietly, causing him to stiffen significantly before sitting up and feigning nonchalance.
“Hi doll.” He croaked then, wiping angrily at the tear tracks on his face and pasting on a smile. “Didn’t mean for you to see me like this. What’s up?”
You hated the faux blase act he was putting on for your sake, but you reminded yourself why you were here.
To help.
“I have something for you.” You offered quietly, procuring the parchment wrapped package and holding it out for him. 
“Awe.” He chuckled wetly with a sniffle. “You didn’t need to get me anything.”
“Well, I suppose I can’t take all the credit for it.” You replied, watching him pause in the process of opening to look at you in confusion.
“Open it.” You encouraged.
He finished ripping the parchment from the box before lifting the lid.
You felt your heart stop as the lid fell unceremoniously from his hands and a small gasp left his lips at the sight of the small, stuffed black cat sitting inside.
You’d spent the afternoon learning about the tail of two toys; Splash the cat and Padfoot the dog. The only toys the two young Black family boys were given came from their Uncle Alphard in the form of a plush cat and a plush dog; both with black fur as a nod to the family name and the boys’ hair colour. 
Even though Uncle Alphard had given the dog to Sirius and the cat to Regulus, the boys often traded, depending on their current circumstances. 
You learned that when Sirius went to Hogwarts, he had left with the cat. 
When he returned home after having been sorted into the wrong house, Regulus had given him the dog.
And when Regulus joined Sirius at Hogwarts only to be ripped from his brother - possibly for good - after being sorted into Slytherin, he pilfered the dog from Sirius and left him with the cat.
They never discussed those plush toys again.
And when Sirius fled Grimmauld place one horrible night in June between fifth and sixth year, he left with nothing but his wand, the clothes on his back, and his school trunk.
Left behind was poor Splash the cat.
Regulus - fearing his mother would go on a warpath and completely destroy everything in Sirius’ room - quickly grabbed the cat and had kept it hidden in his school trunk ever since.
Until today. Until now.
Now, he left Splash with you; trusting that you would return him to his person, the one who needed him the most.
“How…” Sirius whispered as he quietly pulled the plush toy from the box; hands painfully gentle as if the toy would simply turn to ash should he jostle it. “Where did you get this?”
“I didn’t steal it, if that’s what you’re asking.” You tried to joke in an attempt to keep the moment light. Sirius simply turned his disbelieving gaze from the toy to you.
“You spoke with him?”
Suddenly, your fears that you had completely overstepped came flooding back; a nervous sort of nausea settling deep within your stomach that threatened to make this awkward moment horribly worse.
“I…I did- I didn’t say anything, of course! Because there was nothing to say, because I don’t actually know anything, which is fine too! I just…I couldn’t…well, you see, I just had to do something, you know? I couldn’t just-”
Your ramblings were (thankfully) cut off when the air nearly completely left your lungs as Sirius attached himself to your middle; his arms winding tightly around your body where they met in the middle of your back. You could feel the impression of Splash against your back from where he was still in Sirius’ grasp.
“I’m sorry if I upset you - I know it wasn’t my place, but-”
“You’re incredible.” Sirius whispered then. “I can’t believe you’d do this for me.”
“You’re not mad?” You whispered back, causing Sirius to pull away from you, only far enough to be able to look into your eyes with ill-hidden admiration. 
“My sweet shy girl; approaching Slytherin’s for me.” He murmured, causing Remus and Lily to snort and James to gawk.
“You did what!?” 
“You do know that a quarter of our school is made up of Slytherin’s, right?” You asked James then; Sirius pulling you back into his chest when you dared to remove your gaze from him.
“That’s entirely too many Slytherin’s, my girl.” James muttered, though he relented in his admonishment of you for your crime of daring to speak to your classmates in order to sit beside your other two lovers. 
“I can’t believe he gave this to you.” Sirius whispered; holding the cat up behind your back so he could examine it over your shoulder.
“He didn’t give it to me, Sirius.” You whispered back as you pulled away from him so you could look into his eyes. “You have a lot of people in your corner; more than you know.” 
His eyes seemed to well again, though he didn’t look nearly as heartbroken as he did when you first walked in, so you counted that as a win. 
“What did I do to deserve you, hm?” He asked then before pressing a lingering kiss to your lips.
You’re sure you could have counted at least seventeen ways in which Sirius Black deserved the nicest things you had to offer, but right now you were more focused on the feel of his lips against yours.
If love made you do crazy things, and those crazy things brought you to this; this being Sirius moulding himself to you as if he hoped he could make a home for himself inside of your soul, then you would happily spend the rest of you life mad as one could be.
You hadn’t fixed anything, not by a longshot; but you had helped, even if only just a little.
His lips tasted of salt and perhaps some sadness, but also of hope.
And for now, that was enough.
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awrkive · 1 month
Text
NEIGHBOR BLUNDER, pt. 3 — JJK
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in hindsight, you should have seen it coming. had always known your luck – or lack of it, thereof – and the universe's meticulous plan of your downfall made it easy for you to get tangled up in a series of unfortunate events, which presents itself as the neighbor that lives across from you, jeon jungkook.
PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader
GENRE r18+ (fluff, angst, smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
CHAPTER WORD COUNT 18.7k
CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC neighbor!jk, bsf!jimin, accountant!oc software engineer!jk, jk and jimin are chaebols lol, minjoon boyfriends <<<<3, mature language, lots of screaming into your pillow moments, litol bit of #domesticity, FLUFFY FLUFF FLUFFFFFFFFFFFFF, angst if you squint??????????, the x file spoiler lol, suits cameo (me inserting my niche interests into conversations), the biggest warning of this part is: naked jungkook 💀
NOTES sorry for being almost 3 hours late efhkjdhfd i overestimated my abilities a bit mb mb anyway, AGAIN, i want to thank you guys for the overwhelming support! i want to take this opportunity to announce that i'll be taking a break from nb for  around 2 weeks to work on my new jungkook one-shot fic that i will be posting for his birthday ❤️ if you are interested, i have posted the teaser on my tumblr page. LASTLY pls let me know your thoughts!! i LOVE LOOOVEEE reading every single one of your replies/reblogs/asks. i hope you enjoy this one and have a good weekend ahead!!!!!! 
NB!JK VISUALS | TAGLIST OPEN (REPLY IN THE COMMENT SECTION. PLS DO NOT SEND AN ASK ABOUT IT)
READ ON WATTPAD | AO3
PART ONE | TWO | THREE
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You always wonder how a company this big seems to not have any budget lent for a copier that actually works – something that one doesn’t need to violently slap just for it to function perfectly.
You’ve been a victim not just once but five times to its inefficiency, the recent mishap being a month ago when the ink blots jumped right over the cuff of your shirt. 
With the way that you’ve been harassing the copier at the very moment, you’ll say it’s about to do you wrong for the sixth time and you absolutely can’t let it happen anymore – not when you’re currently wearing a white polo shirt that stupidly costs a little too much more than anything in your wardrobe (you decided to spend a little more than usual last New Year’s).
So, with a last unnecessary kick to the bottom of the machine (out of pure spite) you left the copier room of your floor and think, fuck it – go to the IT department and ask Taemu to back you up from his supervisor so you can use their copier instead – which is something you’re not so sure of. 
It’s embarrassing to go there just to ask him for help. Not with your history. But admittedly not that much of a history. After all, he seems to be cool with you and everything seems to be pretty chill. You can just go there; ask a little favor from a friend, and then hurry down to your floor.
There are some other options, though. Like, you can always ask the intern to do it for you. But the thing is, you kind of feel bad for those three. Your co-workers are doing a lot already; asking to fetch them things all around the building, buy them snacks, stuff like that. There’s another one but she’s way too quiet and didn’t really take shit from any of her seniors… which is kind of intimidating – but she's someone you wish you were when you were also an intern. You personally don’t want to help cultivate a somewhat toxic journey for the other three because you also started the same way as them. Beyond that, it would also be too rude to ask favors from Taemu indirectly.
You’re ultimately left with little and only one choice.
The elevator dings and the doors open after it does so. 
One of the people in it is a woman you’ve never met around before. Long, black hair; tailored suit, slender figure, and a posture that screams she’s never hunched her back in her entire life. 
Other people that entered at the same time as you start to bow their heads down slightly and greet a polite, “Good afternoon.” 
You mirror their gesture as well. 
As you step inside and settle on a spot, you wonder who she is. 
An executive, maybe? She looks very put-together, and there’s authority that hangs over her frame… but exceptionally young in the physical aspect. Jungkook is also young, though – and he’s an executive, so that’s entirely possible. Additionally, others seem to know her. Or they're just pretending to know her like you did. Did you miss a ceremony? A meeting? Or did you gloss over some HR email again? You’ll have to check later to find out if that’s the case. 
Anyway, your curiosity doesn’t last long when the elevator doors open once again, indicating the IT department floor. 
You already texted Taemu awhile ago that you were on your way so he should meet you on-time. 
As you walk down the hallway with your phone in your hand, your attention is caught by a familiar voice.
“Hey,”
You look up from your phone and see Taemu waving not too far away, heading towards your direction. It doesn’t take him long to get near you. When he does, you give him a smile.
“Taemu, hi.” You say as a small greeting. Taemu lifts his hand and you thought he was going for a high-five, so you lift your hand as well to meet the gesture. But then he leans in closer, one arm about to enclose your waist, and that’s when you realize he was actually gearing up for a hug.
Taemu seems to register that you weren’t exactly going for the same thing, so he steps back. He seems shy when you look at him in confusion.
“Oh, okay, sorry,” He offers his hand again, but just when you’re already thinking about hugging him because that was what he originally meant to do, he speaks just as you lean in closer to hug him. “I thought we were high-five-ing?” 
Embarrassed, your hands retreat to yourself.
“I thought... you wanted to hug?” You chuckle. 
“Okay, let’s just—” Taemu steps closer again and this time, it’s more than clear to you what he wants to do.
You reciprocate the hug he gives.
“This is so stupid.” You say, chuckling against his neck. The contact is quick as you two simultaneously break apart.
Taemu laughs at your remark, nodding his head. Then he gestures ahead, pointing to the direction of the copy room.
“Your copier not working again?” He asks as you walk down the hallway together. 
You heave a sigh. “Yeah, they really need to change that one. Anyway, have you told Mr. Lee?” You ask, referring to his supervisor. 
Teamu nods his head, opening the door to the copy room for you. 
“Yeah, it’s fine with him. Just sign the logbook and stuff.” 
“Thanks, Taemu.” You say, quickly getting to work, feeling slightly delighted at how their machine smoothly does its job and not like the one at all in your department. “Hey, I’m really sorry for bothering you with this.” You lament as you wait for the paper to slide out.
Taemu waves his hand, shaking his head at you. “It’s fine.” 
You purse your lips into a thin line, giving him a somewhat apprehensive smile. The paper comes out and you get your thing. After a quick scan to see if the copier got everything right, you look back at Taemu to say, “Thanks again, Taemu. I really appreciate this.” 
“No worries. Anytime.”
When you announce that you’re done, Taemu calls your name.
“Hm?” You hum, looking at him and wait for his next words.
He looks coy when he rubs a hand on the back of his head.
“Can I take you out for lunch?” He says, and you still in your position. Taemu seems like he surprised himself with his own words. You open your mouth to speak but then he beats you to it quickly, “It’s not a date. I phrased that as a date – but it’s not – ah, this is all coming out wrong,” Taemu chuckles, interrupting himself. With his hands in his slacks' pockets, he leans to a random table inside the room and looks at you with a more confident stance this time, as if he just gave himself a quick internal pep talk after jumbling his words. “What I meant to say is, if we can go out for lunch together today?” 
You chuckle. You were just about to say yes. Contrary to his assumption, you didn’t really take his first question as an invitation for a date. Besides, he helped you with the copier today.
Nodding your head, you offer him a grin as you say, “Yeah. I’ll go to lunch with you.” 
Taemu walks you to the elevator even though you said he doesn’t need to. He's insistent but you let it, anyway.
Taemu puts his hands on both sides of the door before it closes. The ride is pretty much empty except for yourself.
“When are you off?” He asks.
You think about it for a moment. “Is 12:15 okay?”
Taemu nods. “Sure. See you at 12:15?” 
“Yeah. Later.” 
The elevator closes and you laugh to yourself when you catch Taemu awkwardly waving his hand at you goodbye.
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“No, you didn’t, I kicked your ass at mini golf!” You say, laughing as Taemu looks at you with squinted eyes, obviously saying that was absolutely not what happened on your date a few months ago.
“Uh, you disregarded all the rules.” 
You roll your eyes. “Okay, fine. Rules do not matter, though. It’s just some stick and a ball and… fake grass.” 
Taemu laughs, surrendering his hands to the air, nodding when he says, “Fair, fair.” 
You’re currently at a restaurant not too far away from your company building. It took Taemu and you about five minutes to get here; just a quick waiting time to cross the pedestrian lane to get from one street to the other.
Looking around, you can actually see some people inside wearing your company lace. The restaurant’s sort of like a famous spot around the company, though, so it doesn't necessarily surprise you. You’ve also had a few company dinners here some time ago. 
Safe to say, lunch with Taemu is going… okay so far.
No – actually, it’s way better than you thought it would be.
You could have never, ever predicted that you’ll be out with him alone again after… you know, ghosting him. Your whole assessment of his character has also changed a bit after the whole fiasco.
See, some guys start feeling entitled over your permission and consent when you entertain them even just for a bit. When you go on dates and you break it to them that it’s just not working out between you two, they start to act weird. Like you’ve hurt them. Or that you lead them on – even though it’s absolutely not the case. 
But Taemu’s proving himself to be different. You honestly expected him to act like that guy because he seems the type after your first date. But he surprises you by acting the total, complete opposite.
He’s so… nice. So casual. Like nothing happened. You feel bad because right now, you've officially confirmed to yourself that you totally misjudged him. 
You can’t believe you’ll say this, but Taemu is not an asshole. Like at all.
Even now, you’re recalling what happened to your date and laughing about some of the memories of it, and it feels so long ago you’re starting to remember it differently.
“Anyway, this milkshake’s really good,” you say, taking your glass and looking at it curiously. 
“Yeah? I told you,” Taemu grins, eating from his own plate. 
“You always come here?” You ask out of curiosity since he seems to be familiar with the menu. 
“Sort of? I mean, I try to take in the city as much as I can.” You nod, recalling what he told you before. He came from Daegu, and it’s his first time in Seoul.
Before you can say anything to that, the waiter comes to your table and gives you your bill. 
Taemu and you simultaneously take out your wallets. When he sees you do it, though, he’s quick to shake his head, gesturing for you to not bother.
“No, no, it’s fine. I got it.” 
“I got it, too,” You say, smiling at him, already picking out your card, ready to put it inside the check presenter.
“__,” Taemu says your name while chuckling. “I swear, it’s fine. I was the one who invited you for lunch.” 
“Taemu,” You call him, using the same tone he used. Taemu grins at that. “I think we should split the bill.”
It’s only fair, you think. You ate pretty much the same thing.
You hold what felt like a minute staring competition until Taemu gives in and lets you stack your card on top of his in the booklet.
You’re about to resume eating – pick up on the conversation you left a few minutes ago – when your phone dings on the table, a message popping out on the notification center.
When you read the contact name, your eyes widen but you relax your face real quick lest Taemu asks questions. 
“Sorry,” you say, pointing to your phone. Taemu nods, understanding. You pick the device in your hands, turn to your other side to not be rude, and read the text from Jungkook. 
Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:47pm]: hey I bought you lunch Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:48pm]: i was gonnna ask you to go with me earlier but I got busy with some papers 
Shoot.
You’ve done a pretty good job of not thinking about Jungkook at all for the entirety of the day. You woke up so early this morning that you waited for twenty whole minutes for your bus just so you can avoid seeing Jungkook because everytime his name pops up in your thoughts, you remember what you did the night before and it just messes with your head so much.
Listen, you aren’t embarrassed about trying to get yourself off. It’s just masturbation. It’s a carnal need and it’s totally normal. What you are not proud of is the way you thought about him – out of all people – and how it actually made you feel… a little more motivated to get yourself there. 
But it’s a slip-up. A big mistake. 
How are you supposed to look him in the eyes after that and act like you didn’t do what you did? Granted, you did stop before it escalated. But still, the point is that you thought about him while you were pleasuring yourself. Even if it was for a tiny bit second, it still counts!
Stupid fucking ovulation, you think to yourself with bitterness. You’re a much better person without it, you swear. You don’t go around thinking about men when you try to get yourself off, not at all! Personally, your head is mostly blank when you go through it.   
But Jungkook left two texts. And he’s probably seen the read tag on his end already. 
You [12:49pm]: I just got lunch ): thank you for buying me one tho that’s really nice ofu
You turn your phone off after sending your reply, placing it on the empty space of your table. When you look at Taemu, he’s eyeing something behind you. With furrowed brows, the question about what he’s looking at is on the tip of your tongue when he suddenly says,
“Isn’t that Mr. Jeon?” 
“W-what?” You stammer, not sure if you heard him right.
The knots on Taemu’s forehead fades, and then he nods to himself. “I’m pretty sure that’s Mr. Jeon. He’s going this way.” 
“Wha—”
“Good afternoon, Mr. Jeon.” Taemu stands up from his seat and does a slight bow for greeting. 
Without thinking about it, you mirror Taemu’s action, bowing your head longer than necessary. 
“Good afternoon, M-mr. Jeon,”
It’s no use to avoid his gaze, though.
When you look at Jungkook, he seems pretty much just as surprised to see you. You look away, but your eyes fall to his hand, and you see that it carries a take-out paper bag from the restaurant. You think about his text. 
“Good afternoon.” Jungkook says with an easy-going smile. He goes from surprised to casual real quick and glosses over you as if he doesn’t know you. 
You don’t really know how that makes you feel. 
“I was just going, have fun with your lunch.” He says and politely bids his goodbye, going straight to the direction of the restaurant’s door. 
“He’s really cool, you know?” Taemu brings up when you both sit down again. 
“I— huh?”
“You must have heard about the new project they’re starting at the end of this month, right?” He asks curiously.
You sit there stunned. Stunned from earlier’s interaction with Jungkook but also because you don’t really know what the hell Taemu’s talking about.
“No… I didn’t get any memo…?” You say instead, trying not to act way too oblivious lest he thinks you’re lazy or something. Not that it matters! You’re not trying to impress him or anything. 
Taemu nods. “Well, you’ll probably know about it soon.”  
But your head's too far gone now, still stuck on what happened a minute ago.
You look over at your phone while Taemu speaks, hoping for it to light up with a new notification from the messaging app. 
A few minutes passed by and it doesn’t, even when you leave the restaurant.
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You don’t really know why you’re here. 
It’s been three days since that night in Jungkook’s place where you tried to bake in his kitchen, so it’s also been three days since you started practicing during the nights after work to perfect your cookies. Tonight, it just so happens that the cookies finally taste edible and honestly, it’s more than okay. 
So, maybe that’s why you find yourself in front of Jungkook’s door with a plastic container in your hands, decently-baked cookies prettily arranged inside. 
Jungkook was with you when you made those pathetic excuses for cookies, so you thought it’s only fair for him to try these ones and tell you what he thinks. Brag a little. Maybe have a little chitchat if he’s free or whatever.
It’s also… sort of like a peace offering for something he doesn’t need to know about. You can’t tell him you’re sorry for thinking about him when you did the deed because that’s just plain weird. 
Speaking of weird, though, the interaction from yesterday left you feeling a little empty. There’s this gnawing feeling inside of you that something went wrong – but you can’t exactly point out why. Jungkook also hasn’t texted you after that – which isn’t out of the ordinary. You don’t text everyday and you don’t meet every single day, either – for the record. You’re both busy people. You can only imagine Jungkook’s schedule.
Anyway, if there’s anything that you learned about your friendship with Jungkook, it’s that you don’t need to lie to him. You just have to knock on his door and he’ll unintentionally clear your doubts by being the voice of reason because he’s nice like that. 
You do hope though that tonight clears any weird air between you. Maybe you’ll find out later on that there’s nothing weird going on at all and you’re just overthinking stuff as usual. 
You’re about to ring the doorbell twice when the door finally opens, showing you Jungkook still wearing his polo shirt. He looks like he’s just gotten home from work, red tie undone around his neckline and a few buttons popped open. 
“Hi.” You smile. 
“Hey,” Jungkook looks at you, obviously wondering what brought you to his door.
“I wanted to give you this,” you hand him the plastic container which he takes with a confused look. “Those are cookies. I baked them. I didn’t give you anything when I baked two nights ago because they were bad.”
“Ah,” Jungkook nods, looking down at the plastic. He smiles, then leans on his doorway. “So it’s good now?” 
You gesture a so-so with your hand. “Don’t set your expectations too high. It’s not exactly Poilâne. But it tastes like matcha cookies, I swear.” When Jungkook doesn’t say anything for a while, you decide to add, “You also won’t get food poisoning, if you’re worried about that.”
Jungkook gives you an amused look. “I wasn’t… worried about that.”
“It’s a simple disclaimer. Just in case, you know, you suddenly feel weird in the stomach…” Jungkook arches his brow while you trail off. You roll your eyes lightheartedly. “I’m kidding.” 
He lets out a chuckle and then stands upright. “Thank you for this.” 
“No worries,” you say. You shift your weight from one foot to another. “Uh, do you wanna grab dinner? Right now?” 
Jungkook looks at you apologetically.
“I really wish we could, but I have to finish something tonight. Work stuff.” 
“Oh,” You nod immediately. “Okay. Uhm, good luck with that.”
He smiles at you. Lifting the container up, he arches his brows, saying, “Thank you, again. It looks good.” 
“Yeah, I hope you like it,” You say. Realizing that there’s nothing more left to say, you turn on your heel ready to go. But before that, you look back at him one last time. “Bye.” 
Jungkook grins.
“I’ll text you what I think about them.” He says, pointing to the cookies. 
“Okay, Anton Ego.”  
You both laugh at that, and you enter your apartment with a small smile on your face.
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You don’t want to admit it even to yourself, but you might have taken Jungkook’s words about reviewing your baked goods too seriously that you waited for it last night longer than necessary. Even when the night ended and you go to work the next day, which is today, none of his texts come, and you don’t think anything’s coming anytime soon. 
You try not to think about it too much because he did say he’s busy with work. You’re sure that’s the case, so you feel slightly bad for him. 
Right now, you’re looking for Ms. Seo to get her signature on a document. So you head to the elevator, rushing a bit to get inside the one that’s about to close. It’s a little urgent, so you cannot waste any more time.
As soon as you enter though, you notice who’s in it.
It’s Jungkook and the woman you saw in the elevator two days ago. 
You’re starting to think you need to start using the stairs from now on because your elevator trips are getting too ridiculous. 
It feels like you’re running on auto-pilot when you greet them both, walking to the side to make space for the other people entering. 
You wish you went beside the woman instead and not Jungkook’s side because you then have to try real hard not to look at him.
It proves to be an uneasy task when more people squeeze in as the elevator takes a few stops in between floors. You had to taut all the muscles in your body just to not get into any contact with Jungkook, but even with all the effort, it goes unsuccessful, as you brush his arm when you step back to move a little. 
Jungkook looks at you the same time you do.
“I’m sorry.” You utter, low enough to not cause any unnecessary attention.
A few do turn to stare, anyway. And you can’t help but notice the way the woman’s hand moves towards Jungkook’s to hold it as she takes a look at you. 
Jungkook, meanwhile, gives you that same professional smile he seems to have reserved for every employee that greets him around the building, warm voice saying, “It’s okay.” 
You’re thankful that the next floor is where your stop is.
As you go back to your cubicle, you wonder who the woman is. Again.
There's something about her that feels familiar. She looks familiar. Like you’ve seen her before. You can’t just figure out where exactly. 
“__,” Sol calls beside you. 
“Huh?”
“You’re not having lunch?” She asks.
“Oh…” Right. It’s currently your break time. “Are you guys going out?” You say, looking at Joonhwi who’s two cubicles away from you.
Sol shakes her head, taking her coat from the back of her chair. “No, just at the cafeteria.” 
You nod your head. “Okay, I’ll follow in a few minutes, just need to look over some stuff here,” You point to your computer. 
“Okay. Just text me.” 
You give Sol a smile and watch as she and Joonhwi head out of the office. 
Your gaze falls to the time on your computer.
12:10pm. 
Is Jungkook possibly having lunch right now? You remember him buying you one two days ago and feel a little sense of regret about not taking it even though it isn’t your fault and he should’ve told you first to give you a little heads-up.
You never really talked about it. You never really talked for the past three days.
But then again, he seems to be busy.
With a little hope in your heart, though, you pick up your phone and decide to send him a text. 
You [12:12pm]: hey do u want to go out for lunch? 
Or should you just buy him one like he did for you? It’s not like you’re trying to up him in a kindness competition. It can just be a small, thoughtful gesture from a friend to a friend. 
You receive a reply a few seconds after. 
Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:13pm]: hey __  I’d love to
Your lips curl down when you read the next one that comes in a second.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:13pm]: but I have a work meeting in 5mins
Oh. Okay. That tracks. 
You [12:14pm]: okii!! That’s totally cool! good luck with work 😊
You stand up from your chair and take out your wallet from your bag, going out of your office and sending a quick text to Sol that you’re coming to the cafeteria. 
When you get there, your peripheral vision catches a familiar figure. 
You look back, trying to see if it’s someone you know.
Turns out it is. Because it’s Jungkook.
You’ve seen him in the elevator this morning and he wore a grey pair of suit. You’d also recognize his stature anywhere, but just like how it was inside the elevator, he’s with the woman again; long hair down like it was yesterday, this time adorning a suit dress that hugs her figure really well, her stilettos making her legs look longer but somehow Jungkook still stands a little taller.
For the very brief moment that you laid your eyes on them, you saw how Jungkook had his hand placed on the low of her back, how she laughed at something he said, and how they looked good together from your point of view. It seemed like they were on their way somewhere.
You realize that was what Jungkook meant when he said he’s busy.
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They say a silver lining comes in every worst situation possible, and you’re more of an optimist rather than a pessimist so usually, you believe in the concept of silver linings even though right now – it looks like it’s going to be winning the jackpot in the lottery or… free education for everybody across the world.
“The contractor estimates it would be a week-long repair.”
“One week?” Is your immediate response, disbelief coloring your tone. “I’m sorry—” You try to fix your tone, salvaging yourself from being seen as outright rude in front of your building manager. “You mean seven whole days?”
The building manager, Mr. Han, nods his head. He looks genuinely apologetic as he delivers the news, for the record.
“That’s… really long.” You say, albeit calmer now. But you still can’t imagine it.
“It’s just an estimate. Contractor said it might be faster than that, but they still need to do a full assessment of your unit tomorrow, together with the water damage restoration company. We’re doing all we can to respond to the situation. We’re also talking to your upstairs neighbor about the stipulation of his negligence.”
You nod along to his words.
Obviously, it’s his job to ensure everything’s taken care of, but still, you’re appreciative of the way they are going about the current situation. You’ve heard horror stories about tenants getting into arguments with their building managers or landlords when their apartments experience accidents.
“Can I ask about relocation?” You ask. You have to read your lease again to make sure.
“Unfortunately, it’s not indicated in your lease policy, but your renter’s insurance should cover it. You can also talk to your landlord about reducing your rent for this month due to the inconvenience.”
You nod, giving him a small smile. “Okay. Thank you.”
The plumber and some of the help the building manager employed to dry up your place from the accidental flood had already left a while ago, and soon, Mr. Han’s figure disappears entirely after a few seconds as you watch him walk down the flight of stairs and away from the building.
You can hear the loud whirring of the air movers placed inside your unit from where you stood on your porch. Your hair’s damp, including some spots on your work clothes from the water that trickled down your ceiling as you panicked earlier to pack some of your belongings in a medium-sized luggage you managed to grab in the timeframe.
It’s the state that Jungkook catches you in when you see him emerging from the stairs, looking like he also just got back from work.
“Hey, what happened?” Jungkook, with his brows furrowed, looks at you with worried eyes, sounding equally concerned.
You sigh. “Hey,” you greet weakly. “My apartment got flooded.”
“What?”
“It’s the upstairs neighbor. He apparently left his tub running while he went to work this afternoon,” You take a sharp breath, getting pissed again at the negligence. So goddamn stupid, really. “He flooded his own place and the water leaked to my ceiling, and when I got back home from work I was welcomed with two inches of water on my floor.”
“What the hell?” Jungkook says in disbelief. You nod at his reaction. That is exactly what you said when you heard the story from the property manager. “Are you okay?” He asks, and you appreciate it.
“Not sure about that.” You answer honestly.
Jungkook furrows his brows. “You called your landlord immediately?”
Letting out a sigh again, you nod and move to sit on your suitcase – the lonesome bag that you’re planning to bring with you to wherever the hell you’re going to stay tonight. You don’t even think you have enough clothes in it.
“My place is a complete wreck. Most of the water’s drained, though, and the building manager brought some help inside and they put air movers inside to dry the place right now.” You blow air to the strand of hair that escapes from your ponytail out of frustration. “It’s a shitshow, I know.”
“Good that they responded fast,” Jungkook comments, but concern is still etched on his face as he asks you, “Have you called your insurance company yet?”
“Yeah, we’re emailing right now.” You tell him, showing your phone. You hate sending email through such a small device but you left your laptop back at the office – which is kind of a good thing, now that you think about it – because it would’ve gotten flooded had you left it in your place.
“Did you document everything?”
Your response comes in a little curt.
“Yes, Jungkook. I did.” The onslaught questions just somehow seemed to prompt irritation in you, and you can’t help but add, “I know everything I have to do. I’m an adult.”
Predictably, you render Jungkook surprised.
“I— I didn’t mean it like that. I apologize.”
When you look up at him, you see his expression softening – and you feel bad for what you just did.
Chill, __. He’s just asking logical questions.
“No, I’m sorry,” You shake your head, feeling a little ashamed for bursting like that. You shouldn’t have talked to him like that, anyway. “I don’t know why I snapped, you’re just asking the important questions.”
Jungkook hesitantly hovers his hand on your shoulder, and the look he gives you seems to be asking for permission to touch you. You don’t even know if that’s his intention, but you give him a nod.
He smiles, tapping your shoulder for a brief second, saying, “It’s okay. You must be really stressed right now.”
“You think I can’t be calm in this situation?” You look at him with a blank expression. Jungkook’s taken aback and you witness the very split second his smile drops form his face, probably thinking he said something wrong. Then you can’t help it, you break. “I’m just fucking with you.”
Jungkook’s brows furrow as he sees you bursting into a gentle laugh, breaking your serious demeanor.
He shakes his head slowly, seemingly incredulous of the stunt you just pulled.
“You and your jokes…”
“You should’ve seen your face.”
“You got me.” Jungkook chuckles.
“I’m sorry… it’s just me trying to ignore the fact that my apartment literally got flooded and those loud and big ass fans they placed inside are about to tear my ears off.”
You see the way Jungkook’s face winces.
“Where are you staying for the night, then?” He asks.
“I don’t know,” you shrug, genuinely not sure about your options. “Probably gonna book a hotel or something.”
Of course you’ve thought about Jimin. He can probably easily help you find a place for the meantime but it’d probably be hard with him not being physically in the country just yet. Sol also crossed your mind, but you remember she has a roommate.
Getting a hotel to temporarily stay at is the most obvious option there is. It would be too much of a hassle, not to mention expensive, but—
“You can stay at mine for the night.”
You think you’re getting around to Jungkook offering you help without you even asking – but it doesn’t mean you still don’t get a little taken aback when he gives it so willingly and so quickly like this.
“No.” You shake your head.
“Seriously.” Jungkook stares at you.
You stare at him right back.
“I can’t.”
“Why?” He raised his brow.
“I can’t think of reasons right now.”
“You don’t need to think at all.”
You squint your eyes at him, he does the same.
Soon enough, Jungkook breaks first and laughs.
“Come on! You’re gonna freeze in here.”
Hesitantly, you say, “… Are you sure?”
“What are you worried about?” He cocks his head to the side, awaiting your response.
Well. There’s a lot to be worried about.
There’s the thing where you always just seem to be caught into some shit and then he catches you right exactly in it. It’s starting to get embarrassing.
But Jungkook just doesn’t really seem to mind it.
“Nothing, really.” Is what you weakly settled for.
“Okay…” He trails off, raising a brow, obviously a bit confused. “Then what’s the big deal? Do you really want to go through the hassle of picking out hotels and booking a room at this hour? You have to go to work tomorrow.”
You visibly wince at the mention of work.
He’s right and you kind of hate it.
“You’re right…” you say after a while.
“You’re staying at mine?” Jungkook asks again, in which you nod your head in confirmation.
You stand up from your suitcase and pull up the handle. Then you look at him sincerely to give him a smile. “Thank you. I think this is like the five hundredth time this kind of thing happened between you and I.”
“Not counting.” Jungkook shrugs. “Have you had dinner yet?”
You nod your head. “I went with a friend— a co-worker.”
Jungkook visibly stills.
“The guy from a few days ago at the restaurant around work?”
You perk up at that, surprised he still recalls that day.
“Yeah, that’s him. Taemu. From the IT dep.”
He nods. You don’t know if he’s interested or not.
You think it’s a bit random that he brought that up, though, but you shake the thoughts away and call his name.
Jungkook looks at you.
“Thank you.” You say, hoping he hears the sincerity in your voice.
He chuckles. “You’re welcome,” Jungkook then gestures to the luggage you’re holding. “Let me.”
Jungkook doesn’t wait for you to say yes before he takes the handle from you and carries the luggage with him to the direction of his place just across from yours.
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You consciously try to make your steps lighter as you walk out of the shower box, making your way towards your suitcase to check on the clothes you packed.
When you open it, you thank the heavens that there are underwear – and a lot of them, for the record – but as you rummage around some more, you find that other than your work clothes, you only have nightwear inside. And when you say nightwear, not the comfortable cotton pajama kind but the nightie one – and that basically means the baby blue silky set of tiny camisole and shorts that can pass as a pair of panties.
I can’t possibly wear these, you think to yourself, hastily burying the pieces of clothing in the bottom of your luggage.
It shouldn’t mean anything – those are nightwear after all! But it was already embarrassing to ask Jungkook earlier if you could use his shower and his towel. You can’t come out of the bathroom wearing clothes that Jimin once tagged as “slutty pjs”. Not when you’re in Jungkook’s place.
“__?”
You look over to the door when you hear Jungkook’s voice, a knock following.
“Yes?” You answer.
“Do you have clothes in there?”
At the question, your gaze automatically falls to the suitcase where the thin strap of the camisole peeks out in between some other clothes that are completely useless for the night.
With hesitance, you say, “Uhm… do you possibly have a shirt I can borrow? I promise to clean it and return it to you tomorrow, ASAP.”
You hear him chuckle from the other side. “I brought you some. There’s also a pair of sweatpants but I’m not sure if they’ll fit you.”
It’s hard to not celebrate silently when Jungkook says that – but you might have jumped a little at his words.
When you walk towards the door and open it, you give Jungkook a huge smile as you tell him, “Thanks!”
He stops. And then you stop.
You realize you’re only in your towel – his towel, to be exact.
You feel the blood rushing to your cheeks the moment it registers.
Before you can do or say anything, Jungkook moves on quickly and stretches his arm, thrusting the clothes he’s mentioned into your way.
“There.” He says simply, smiling at you.
You take them from his hand, giving him a smile too, albeit a bit awkward.
“T-thanks.”
Jungkook turns on his heel to leave, and you lock the door to the bathroom as soon as he walks away.
You settle his clothes on top of the flat surface of the lavatory, physically shaking your head as you look at yourself in the mirror to shake your thoughts away.
Thoughts of his slightly parted lips when you opened the door while you’re only in a towel.
But it happened in such a split second that you’re not sure if it even happened.
When you take his white shirt, it feels soft to the touch and there’s a scent of fresh laundry that wafts through your nose when you wear it on yourself.
It’s loose on you, the sleeves almost covering your whole arms and the hem stopping mid-thigh. But because of that, it feels comfortable – like the oversized shirts you wear to bed that you, unfortunately, weren’t able to pack with you in the heap of panic.
But the pants show a different case. It’s so big that it drags on the floor as you wear it.
You made do, though; drawing the strings tightly and and knotting them together, pulling up the gartered hems up to your calf.
When you come out of the bathroom, Jungkook welcomes you with nothing but a towel wrapped around his lower half.
“H-hey,” You stammer, eyes meeting his own to avoid looking at his naked torso.
“I was just going in. You done?” He casually says, as if he doesn’t mind being naked in front of you.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m done. Thanks for the clothes.” You say, gesturing across your body.
“Looks good.” Jungkook comments before entering the bathroom.
You think your cheeks just got impossibly hotter.
The sound of water running is heard before you scramble to the living room.
Why was he naked?!
Okay, he wasn’t actually naked naked but still, he had no clothes on. Why did he have no clothes on? You’re trying to erase the image of his torso, the lines that draw an obvious four-pack, his firm-looking chest, and the way the tattoos over his right arm apparently go way above his shoulder. It’s obvious that he goes to the gym and works out from the way those polo sleeves of his always hug his biceps a little too tight – and with a body like that, you completely understand why he wouldn’t mind parading it around.
The AC in his unit is turned on, but it suddenly feels way too hot from where you currently sit on his couch.
Shut up. Ugh. You tell yourself internally.
Completely wanting out of that headspace, you decide to take out your iPad to get in contact with your insurance company to discuss your current situation, and it does a good job of keeping your mind off Jungkook for a while.
You’re so deep in the activity that you don’t even notice a few minutes has already gone by, and with that, you don’t notice Jungkook coming out of the shower.
When you see him in your periphery, he’s now thankfully dressed in a shirt and some basketball shorts. He’s drying his hair as he walks over to your direction in the living room.
You look at him in surprise when you notice the pillow and comforter he has in his hands.
“Sorry. You should’ve called me, I could’ve helped,” you say, standing up from the couch, ready to help him with it, assuming that you’ll be on the couch tonight.
Jungkook looks at you with furrowed brows. “I’m taking the couch.”
You stare at him, ready to hear him say he’s kidding or something but he doesn’t look like he’s joking.
You shake your head vigorously.
“No, that’s ridiculous.”
“What’s ridiculous about it?” Jungkook says, putting the pillows on the couch, starting to make it all the while looking at you through the process to engage.
“It’s your place.” You reason.
“And you’re my guest.” He says as a matter of fact.
“But—”
Jungkook cuts you off before you can even finish your sentence.
“__, it’s fine, really. You can take my bed. I insist.”
“Jungkook…” you trail off, sounding more like a whine.
He laughs and then looks at you with a playful smile. “Okay, should we compromise? Like, what, share the bed or the couch?”
You ignore the way your cheeks heat up at the suggestion.
You honestly don’t know why Jungkook says these kinds of things. You know it’s just his usual teasing, but he’s about to confuse you one of these days…
“God, no.” You respond with a shake of your head.
He chuckles. “Oh, is sleeping with me that repulsive to you?”
You push a little at his shoulder and roll your eyes.
When Jungkook’s done fixing the couch, he gestures to the door by the far end of the room. “Come on, I'll take you to the bedroom.”
You both walk towards that direction and as much as you’ve been over his place for more than once now, you’ve actually never seen his room – and for the record, why would you?
But it looks nice. Just like the rest of his apartment’s interior, his room is also almost the same. Kind of bare, but there are some sleek furniture that add character to the whole place.
“Too cold?” Jungkook asks, and you look at him to see him holding the remote of his AC.
“The temp’s fine.”
He hums and puts down the remote.
“Alright, then. Just call me if you need something.” Jungkook says, gesturing to the door. He’s about to leave when you call him again.
“Good night, Jungkook. Thank you for your bed.”
“Good night, __. Uh… sweet dreams?”
You roll your eyes. Jungkook laughs.
When he leaves, you sit on his mattress covered by black duvets and sheets. It’s soft, and you let yourself bounce on the fluffy surface, delighting at the feel.
It’s about the same size as yours, and when you lay on it, you smell that usual scent that Jungkook always emanates. Clean, crisp, a little sweet. Like fresh apples. Or fresh laundry. He just always smells so… clean.
You feel a little sense of strangeness at the different environment you’re in, but the bed is too soft that you feel like you’re almost floating – and maybe it’s because you are tired from work and drained from the whole fiasco at your apartment, but you fall asleep fast and heavy within just a few minutes.
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You almost jump from the bed when you open your eyes and see a different type of bedding, only to realize that you’re actually not in your apartment and in Jungkook’s instead.
After processing that, you begin to do a little stretching, finding that you slept quite well. As you do so, your eyes catch the digital clock on the bedside table, and you read 4:30 am.
It’s a bit too early to start getting ready for work, but maybe if you start prepping now, you’ll be ready to go out just as when Jungkook is waking up.
When you stand from the bed, you discover the absence of pants around your waist, the cold air sending goosebumps over your bare legs – and as expected, you see the sweats getting caught in between the heaps of dark sheets on the bed.
You must have taken it off in the middle of the night. It’s why you usually forgo pants when you sleep.
You decide against wearing it again, though, assuming that Jungkook is still sound asleep by now so he can’t possibly see you walking around his place naked from the waist down. Besides, the shirt’s big and almost serves as a dress.
Carrying the pants with you, you silently open the door to his bedroom to tiptoe on your way to the bathroom.
“Hey,”
“Jesus christ!” You clutch your heart at the sudden sound of Jungkook’s voice booming across the unit.
When you look at him, he’s… working out. Apparently.
Jungkook takes out the airpods from his ears and drink from his tumbler.
“What are you tiptoeing for?” He asks, brows furrowed.
From where you stand, you see droplets of sweat on the side of his forehead, his chest heaving from the push-ups you catch him doing a few seconds ago on the mat that he laid on the floor. There are small weights on the side, and Jungkook is still wearing his clothes from last night.
Did he possibly just… wake up and then choose to exercise? Is this his everyday routine?
“I didn’t want to wake you,” you make up an excuse that’s kind of partly true. He slept on the couch in the living room, after all. And from the sala, everything is pretty much visible to the eye as the unit has an open layout. So one single noise could’ve awakened him.
“Too late for that,” Jungkook chuckles. He looks at you longer than a second and you’re just about to get conscious when he asks, “You get ready for work at four?”
You purse your lips into a thin line. “Sort of. I also have to check my place.” Jungkook nods, understanding. “Uh, Jungkook?” He hums to acknowledge you. “Can I use your shower? Again?”
He laughs at the way you smile at him awkwardly. “Sure. Your towel’s just over the rack.”
“Thanks.” You smile at him and go straight to the bathroom.
You make quick work of washing yourself, and the shower, just like last night, isn’t your usual routine because of course, most of your stuff are still over at your place. Though Jungkook is kind enough to lend you some of his unused products – even giving you a spare toothbrush which now sits beside his own on the bathroom sink.
When you finish showering, you wear his shirt and his pants once again. As you go out of the bathroom, the sound of oil popping from the kitchen doesn’t escape your ears.
“I made breakfast.” Jungkook says as you make your way towards the kitchen island. He’s a few steps away, working around the stove, frying up some sausage. He takes some eggs and then turns to you. “How do you like your eggs?”
You’re sure he doesn’t mean anything by that, but then you both laugh at the realization anyway.
“Sunny side up.” You say after a while, seating yourself on one of the high stools. “Can I help you?”
“It’s okay, just sit there.”
You put your elbow on the island as you watch him work. “Wow, do you really treat all your guests like this?” You tease, deciding to poke a joke.
Jungkook laughs as he starts breaking eggs into the frying pan.
“You’re the first one.” He raises a brow your way, lips tilted into a playful smile.
“Awe.” You pretend to curtsy which makes Jungkook laugh.
It doesn’t take long before Jungkook serves you a plate of sausage and perfectly-made sunny side up. You say a delighted “thank you!” in which Jungkook returns an adorable smile for.
You thought he was going to eat with you, but he only ate the sausage and began to work on cutting up some bananas while you continued to eat.
“What did they say about your apartment? How long is the repair?” Jungkook asks while he takes out a mixer.
“Week-long,” He visibly winces at your answer. You purse your lips. “I’m trying to look for a place to stay for the remaining days.”
Jungkook furrows his brows. “Lease doesn’t cover relocation?”
“Talked to the building manager and the landlord last night and they said it doesn’t. I also read the policy again myself last night, though, just to be sure. Anyway, landlord’s cutting my rent this month for up to thirty, so that’s something.”
“Okay… how about your stuff?”
As you watch Jungkook during the whole conversation, you realize that he’s apparently making a protein shake, and when he finishes shaking the bottle, he gestures it towards you, silently asking if you want to try it.
You shake your head, also answering his question. “I already filed a claim on it with my insurance company, so they’re handling it for me. They’re probably going to seek reimbursement from my upstairs neighbor’s insurance if he has one,” You shrug. “And I’m also gonna have to ask him to pay for the deductible.”
Jungkook nods, consuming his drink. You watch as he leans back on the kitchen sink, putting his protein shake down and crossing his arms, looking right at you.
“Why don’t you stay here for a while?”
You look right back at him weird.
“You’re not serious.”
“When am I not serious?”
You hold a staring competition after that, but Jungkook’s eyes are way too intense so you break away first.
“I just can’t.” You say, interrupting the silence.
“It’s friend to a friend. I bet you’d do this for me too.” Jungkook shrugs.
He doesn’t understand, though. Staying at his place for the remaining six days would mean that you’d be both living under the same roof together, and while it’s true that you would probably do this for him if he was in your shoes, it’s just not the same.
But you don’t want to get into all that. It’s too complicated to explain, even to yourself.
So you decide to joke a little.
“Probably not.” You tease.
Jungkook chuckles. “Mean.” He comments, shaking his head at you and playfully clicking his tongue.
“I’m joking,” you smile apologetically. “It’s just for six more days, though. The manager told me it might take faster.”
“Where do plan to stay, anyway? A hotel would be really inconvenient. The nearest one around here is too far from work, not to mention it’d be expensive as well.”
“There’s loss of use coverage,” You say, even though you know the stipulation, and your apartment flooding because of your neighbor’s negligence might probably not be in the clauses.
It’s just to reason with Jungkook, but he’s quick to present another point.
“It’s gonna take a long while, no?”
You pout. Sighing, you say, “You’re right.”
“Okay, so why not stay here?” Jungkook asks curiously. “You know I don’t mind. I won’t mind.” He says and it sounds so convincing and genuine.
You decide to deflect a little because you feel like giving in any seconds now.
“You say that but wait until you find that I’m not very likeable as a roommate.”
Jungkook raises a brow. “Shoot. Hit me.”
Pursing your lips into a thin line, you try to think of your bad habits.
“I…” you trail off, but it stretches into seconds way longer than necessary.
Jungkook chuckles. “See, you can’t even list one.”
“I don’t cook.” You point out.
“I already know that.”
You frown. “So we can’t take turns cooking while I stay here.”
Jungkook only shrugs. “There’s take-out.”
“You’re gonna eat take-out for a week?”
“I can cook.” He chuckles.
“Okay… but sometimes, I get super cranky.”
He nods. “I’ll be out of your way, then. You won’t even notice I’m here.”
You sigh, out of reasons now.
“I’ll try to be helpful with you in the kitchen for the next six days. And I’ll also be nice.”
Jungkook’s brows perk up. “You’re saying you want to stay here?”
“Yeah,” you nod. “But… I wan to pay you.”
“__, the whole reason why I’m offering is because a hotel is gonna cost you,” Jungkook laughs.
That prompts you to put a frown on your face.
“Fair point. But I’m going to take your couch the entire time, okay? And that’s final.”
It takes a little longer for Jungkook to agree to that. But he nods his head, anyway, saying, “Sure.”
It sounds so non-committal. You think he's going to still try insisting taking the couch.
“Okay.” You say, ignoring that thought, smiling at him. “Thank you.”
“You know you’re always welcome, right?” Jungkook says.
You’re thankful he turns around after he says that to tend to the stuff he used a while ago in the sink, giving you a perfect leeway to avoid his gaze lest he takes notice of the way you can’t help a big smile.
“I’m gonna take a shower. Finish your breakfast.” He says, pointing to your unfinished plate. 
You give him a small salute.
Before he goes to the direction of the bathroom, Jungkook turns around to ask. "Do you want to go to work together?" He raises a brow, but then a second after his question, he puts a hand up, effectively stopping you from answering. "You're gonna say no. But I insist. Say yes, I made you breakfast." 
You laugh at his squinted eyes. 
"I was going to say yes, anyway."
"No, you weren't." Jungkook fires back. 
You shoo him away playfully before he finally leave for the shower.
All you can think about is that maybe silver linings are indeed true.
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Sharing a space with somebody has always felt… weird.
You had a roommate back in college for the whole four years, and while it wasn’t the worst thing that ever happened to you – it was just an experience that didn’t really strike you as something memorable or fun. Min Heeji was a Bio major who was an extreme introvert, and past the casual hi’s and hello’s, you both just never hit it off.
After moving out of your dorm, you rented around Itaewon. You found the unit through a listing you saw on Facebook – some woman who was finding a roommate to split the rent with. You found out later that the reason why the previous people before you left was because she was quite an interesting lady… let’s just say – she was a person who dabbled on the arts of illegal drug trading. Jimin jokingly told you he wondered about how her weed tasted like. Sometimes, you want to smack him on the head.
You pretty much decided on being against roommates for the entirety of your life after that.
But Jeon Jungkook is thankfully not a total hermit, nor does he sell weed.
It’s been long since you lived with somebody, and being under the same roof as him is different – the good kind of different, to be clear.
He’s somewhat a clean freak so it’s almost embarrassing to do anything in his place because it’s always so spot clean.
One thing that you learned though is that he’s a busy man. You had an idea about a packed schedule and non-existent free time for an executive person like him – but the idea feels more real now that you’ve witnessed it.
On the first day of your stay, after your apartment got flooded, he drove you both to work just like he offered. During the night, though, he seemed to have come home late. You slept at around 10pm and never saw him entering the door, and when you woke up the next day, he’s gone, only a note on the fridge telling you that he’s prepared some breakfast you can heat up to eat.
Nonetheless, you feel into quite an easy routine with him.
After a great deal of insistence from your side, Jungkook is rightfully assigned in his bedroom while you lay on the couch. It’s a bit bigger than the one you have on your own, so there’s space for moving around. Even when you wake up with shitty back pains in the mornings, sleeping on his couch is better than sleeping in your current wreck of an apartment as the contractor is already repairing your place.
As of the third day since the incident, they’ve already changed your ceiling, the flooring coming next. It was starting to look good as per your visit.
That made it clearer to you, though, that you’re indeed staying at Jungkook’s for another four days.
Jungkook was so busy that he even worked on a Saturday – told you that it was a hectic week for his team over a shared dinner that you thought will happen only once during your stay with his packed schedule. On Sunday, you kind of assumed that Jungkook will still be at the office, but he surprised you when he came barging in the bathroom while you were in it.
You had your leg propped on the edge of the bathtub, squeezing the bottle of lotion in your palm and spreading the cream over the skin of your shin, adjusting the towel up your thighs so you can cover your entire leg with the product.
You did so mindlessly, part of your usual after-shower routine, completely unassuming of the sound of the doorknob clicking and Jungkook suddenly barging inside the room with a hamper in his hand.
Frozen in your position, your eyes locked into his own as he stepped a foot forward on the tiled floor. You realized the hamper is his laundry.
“Sorry, I didn’t know you were here,” Jungkook apologized, and he looked genuinely bashful.
“I thought you were at work.” you said, adjusting the towel on the top of your head.
Jungkook raised a brow, but there’s a smile on his lips. “On a Sunday?”
You narrowed your eyes at him which prompted him to laugh. A beat of silence, and then you noticed Jungkook’s gaze. You felt his eyes to the direction of your raised leg on the porcelain tub – and if your own sight didn’t deceive you, you could’ve sworn he’d made a quick glance-over to the expanse of your bare leg before he snapped right back into looking at your face.
“Anyway, I was just gonna do my laundry,” Jungkook twisted himself away from the bathroom’s door. “I’ll wait for you to finish, though. I’m sorry again for barging in.”
At that, you quickly shook your head and planted both your feet on the tiles, standing upright.
“No, it’s fine. I’m done, anyway. Are you in a hurry? I just need to change into some… clothes.” You said, glancing at the heap of some pajama pants and a t-shirt on the bathroom sink.
“Not in a hurry. You can change here.” Jungkook gave you a small smile.
You nodded your head. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry. I’ll be super quick.”
Your lips curled into an apologetic smile, but Jungkook waved you off.
He took one last look at you before he locked the door – one thing that you forgot to do in the very first place.
You blamed it on your habit of not really being mindful about it since you were used to living alone.
The day after that – one fateful Monday – Jungkook once again was MIA at his own place. You woke around 6 am, and as you got ready for work, you noticed a note on his fridge that he went to work earlier than usual that day, and he’d also be working late so you should lock up at night.
At the company, you did not even catch a single glimpse of him.
You bought some food on your way to his place later that day, thinking that maybe you could share a meal together – nevermind the fact that he had told you he was going to be home late. But you did not expect his “late” would exceed past 11 pm, and since you were also pretty much tired from your own activities for that day, you fell asleep on the couch without making it, lying on the surface with no pillows and comforter over your body.
In your dreams that night, you felt like you were floating.
Somebody has tucked their arms under your knees and neck, taking you off the previous surface you were lying on. The unfamiliar man cradles your body against his, carrying you somewhere and putting you on a much softer place. A mattress. A big, soft, mattress. And you noted that the man smelled of green apples and laundry. An almost familiar scent.
Needless to say, your dream was quite vivid that night.
When you woke up the next morning, you were welcomed with the familiar grey paint of the walls – the white ceiling, and the dark sheets and pillows that surrounded you. A waft of fresh laundry smell. The Iron Man figurine on the top shelf of the cabinet in the corner of the room. The black slippers on the side of the door that are way too big to be yours.
Jungkook.
The strange man in your dreams was Jungkook. And it wasn’t a dream at all.
It was Jeon Jungkook who carried you all the way to his bedroom from the sofa so you could sleep comfortably on it.
When you went out of his room that morning, ready to thank him and tell him he didn’t have to do what he did, feeling bad at the thought of him sleeping on his couch at his own place, Jungkook was nowhere to be found.
But as if it was becoming tradition, there was a note on his fridge that told you: I hope you don’t mind that I brought you to my room. I found you uncomfortable on the couch last night. Didn’t cook us breakfast because I have to go to work early again today, but I’ll have food delivered at around 7. Good morning, __ :)
     — Jungkook.
That night, though, Jungkook miraculously came home early.
He arrived an hour after you, just in time as you finished doing the prep for the bibimbap you were planning to eat on your own, assuming Jungkook was going to be late again. When you saw him entering the door, you decided to make the portions of the ingredients bigger, thinking that it was the perfect opportunity to say thank you for the other night.
And you did not forget to say that either.
“Thank you for last night. You didn’t have to…” you trailed off, giving him a sheepish smile across the dining table as you both ate.
Jungkook, with his mouth full of rice – seemingly (thankfully) enjoying the meal you prepared for him – munched on it before he said, “You looked real tired. And uncomfortable, which reminds me, you should sleep in the bedroom as well tonight.”
You shook your head. “It’s fine, Jungkook. Last night was just – uh, I was waiting for you to come home because I didn’t want to just lounge around your living room while you aren’t around, but then I guessed you arrived a little late.”
Out of all the things you’d said, it seemed Jungkook only remembered one thing.
“You were waiting for me to come home?” He said, his hand reaching for the side dish pausing mid-air, eyes trained to you. Curious, his brow piqued in what seemed like genuine intrigue.
You stopped. You went over your words, not realizing those came out of your mouth.
Obviously, you didn’t mean for that to slip out.
So, you shook your head slowly. Hesitantly, you reasoned, “It’s just you’re always in your room first before I fix the couch for bedtime. So.” You shrugged, knowing your explanation didn’t suffice.
Jungkook gave you a nod with small a smile on his lips.
“I’m sorry for making you wait, then. It’s just extra busy at the company these days.”
Your brows furrowed in curiosity, “Yeah, I heard about the collaboration with Kang Tech.”
You found out about it at work that day. It’s in the accounts payable you’ve worked on the past few days, and when you asked Joonhwi and Sol about it, they confirmed the recent moves the company is recently making.
You also realized then that the reason why the mystery woman in the elevator was familiar to you was because you’ve seen pictures of her before.
Of course you’d know her. She’s the woman Jimin’s parents are trying to set him up with. The one and only Kang Heesu. She took over as CEO just very recently at Kang Tech.
Apparently, Blue Nexus and Kang Tech are collaborating on a product that will be announced later during the month – which explains her being at the company oftentimes, Jungkook being busy, drowned with work stuff – them working closely together.
Whatever you felt on that day you saw them together – you’d like to dismiss that as just a blip in the system. Your system, to be exact.
It isn’t any of your business whoever gets around with Jungkook. Whether he’s close with Kang Heesu outside work or not (like what you’ve pondered about ever since finding out about the information of their collaboration) – that’s their thing.
“Yeah, the team’s been working overtime because of it.” Jungkook added to your words from earlier.
“So, you’re more tired than I am,” You pointed out, noting the obvious. He went to work at the ass-crack of dawn, went home late, and whenever he was home – all he faced was his laptop.
You even doubt he was getting enough sleep. There were bags under his eyes that weren’t there the past month you first met him – and even though he carried them with a certain grace, you could still see that some of the shine in his eyes was becoming absent.
You were glad you were able to prepare something for him. Did something for him. You didn’t have to – but you did. Because you wanted to be a helpful roommate.
“Does it show?” Jungkook chuckled, leaning back on the chair, a bashful expression on his face.
You shook your head. “Nope. But yeah, you don’t need to give up your bedroom tonight. I’ll be fine here.”
“I actually bought something. Wait a minute,” Jungkook suddenly said. Your brows furrowed when you watched him saunter over the living room and in towards his bedroom. When he came back to the dining area, he was carrying a huge paper bag. You looked at him, visibly confused. Jungkook cleared his throat as he sat back down on his seat. “I was thinking you could use this. It’s a foldable cushion or whatever so you can sleep more comfortably on the couch.”
You gawked at the paper bag, and then at him.
“What?”
“I went to the mall yesterday and the lady told me this is one of their best sellers… I don’t know. Do you want to have a look at it?” Jungkook said, worry seeping in his tone.
“That’s a… cushion? For the couch?”
He nodded.
“Oh.” Was the only thing you could utter. You didn’t really know what to say. “I… this is really thoughtful. You didn’t have to, you know that, right?”
Jungkook shook his head and gave you a small smile.
“Thank you, Jungkook.” You told him sincerely.
“It’s nothing.” He waved you off. “I got that dry-cleaned already, by the way, so you can use it tonight if you really insist on sleeping on the couch.” Jungkook said with a teasing smile.
“That,” you point to the paper bag, “will single-handedly get me to want to live here for another three months.”
Jungkook raised his brow. “Really?”
You chuckled, leaving the conversation up on the air.
When you both finished your meal, you offered to do the dishes yourself, but Jungkook was insistent to do it, saying you’ve already done a lot for the day. You begged to differ, but you relented, anyway.
After you showered and made the couch, geeking internally at how soft the cushion he bought was, you couldn’t sleep right away, your mind finding it hard to focus on the lull of the crickets. So, at around 11 pm, you opened your laptop to pull up an X-Files episode, thinking it could condition you into being sleepy.
You promised yourself you were just going to finish one more episode, but the next episode button was too tempting and you found yourself binging the show into the wee hours of the night.
“__?” A voice coming from the far end of the room called, followed by the clicking sound of the lights turning on. With that, you found Jungkook standing on his door with his eyes half-lidded, hands rubbing his chest, seemingly having just woken up from his sleep.
“Jungkook,” you acknowledged him, straying your attention from your show. Jungkook started to trot towards the direction of the kitchen, and your eyes followed him as he stopped in front of his fridge, taking some water out and pouring it into a glass.
After he drank it, he looked at you to ask, “Can’t sleep?” You nodded your head. He made his way towards the couch, pointing at it. “Would you mind?”
“No, do you want to?” You adjusted the duvet you put all over your back to make room for him, and Jungkook placed himself beside you, peering over the screen on your laptop.
“What are you watching?” He asked, voice a little groggy.
“The X-Files. You know the show?”
“Heard about it a few times. Never gotten around to watch it, though,” Jungkook said, leaning on the back of the couch, eyes still glued to your laptop.
You smiled. “Maybe you can start it now.”
“What’s it about?”
“Uh… aliens,” you started off, feeling a little silly about it. Gauging his reaction, you waited for him to give you a judgmental look but he seemed to be intrigued when he looked at you, asking for more details. You perked up that, feeling suddenly excited. “Okay, so, the guy here – his name’s Mulder. He’s an FBI agent who’s tasked on cases that have, you know, unexplainable nature. Basically, he believes in aliens, all that ET stuff,” you explained. Right on time, Gillian Anderson appears on frame. Pointing at her, you looked at Jungkook as you introduced her to him, “And the woman – she’s so pretty – that’s Scully. She’s a skeptic. She’s an FBI agent who’s also a scientist and was assigned to be with him to debunk his work.”
“So, they investigate cases together?” Jungkook added.
You nodded your head. “Yeah, and it’s different for each episode. There’s the alien storyline which is like, the main plot of the show, but there’s the fun filler episodes. Monster of the week, they call it. I’m rewatching one of those right now ‘cause they’re fun and don’t have a backstory.”
“It sounds good,” Jungkook looked impressed, training his eyes back on the show.
You weren’t sure if he was just trying to make a conversation, but he seemed genuinely interested as you both watched the show, which tickled your excitement more. You’ve tried to get Jimin into it but he wasn’t really an avid fan of watching long shows, so you’ve given up on trying to convince him to be as obsessive of the show as you.
“Do they kiss?” Jungkook suddenly asked mid-episode, brows furrowed as he watched Mulder wiped something off the side of Scully’s lips. It’s the episode when Scully just got back from being abducted.
Amused, you looked at him and let out a chuckle. Jungkook turned to look at you, confused at the reaction.
“Hm?”
You shook your head. “No, it’s just funny. So, there’s a thing in this show, right? Scully and Mulder are not supposed to be a couple, but they act like one.”
Jungkook let out a seemingly enlightened, “Ah.” Then he looked at your screen again, “I’m watching it right now out of context and I’m assuming they’re a couple.”
“Right? They have such insane chemistry. It’s why I love this show so much.”
“Wait. They never get together? Or kiss, romantically?” Jungkook asked curiously.
“They kiss on the seventh season. We’re on the second one.”
“Wow,” He breathed, genuinely surprised. “That’s a long wait.”
“I know,” you chuckled.
You both sat beside each other as the episode finished. Jungkook would have some questions, and you happily answered each one. It was also fun to share some lore about the show – and you didn’t know if you were coming off too geeky about it – you were just unbelievably excited that he seemed to genuinely like it.
Time passed without you both noticing, and it was 2:23 am when you became hesitant on clicking the next episode button.
“Do you still want to watch another one or…” You trailed off, eyes glued to the screen, waiting to hear Jungkook’s response. But then a few seconds passed, and you didn’t receive one. Turning your head to the side, your eyes widened when you see the state Jungkook was in.
He was leaning far back on the couch with his head resting on the backrest, arms crossed over his chest, lips slightly parted with his eyes shut closed. You could see his chest rising and falling from the way he breathed in and out of sleep, looking quite peaceful regardless of his seemingly uncomfortable position.
You shut your mouth and closed your laptop quietly, trying to be careful with your movements so as to not disturb him and accidentally wake him up. Stretching your back to lean down, your breath hitched as you tried to set the laptop down on the coffee table, not daring to graze any part of Jungkook’s body, especially when his thigh was so closed to your own.
When you successfully put away the device, you went back to sitting beside him, contemplating on your next move.
You ended up staring at him, noting the way his biceps are bulging out of the sleeves of his white shirt with a thin material from their crossed position. Your eyes trailed down to the veins on his forearms, and naturally, you focused in on the one with the swirls of ink around it. It was a body of art on the first look – but looking at it at that moment – close up and free, you took time to identify the drawings on his skin.
There was that snake that trailed down close to his hand, the skeletal rock n’ roll hand, and the script that says “rather be dead than cool”. It was a shame that you couldn’t see from your current view the flower tattoo you were always curious about, nevertheless, the entirety of his inked arm was just… breathtaking, to say the least.
You wanted to ask him what they meant – or if they even meant something. You knew by now he only got them in college – when he moved to the US – and you were just curious about how he decided to get them; about the backstory, anything… Would love to trace down your fingers on his skin as he tells you the exact moment.
And then you realized what you were doing and suddenly looked away.
You felt like a creep. What were you doing, staring at him while he was unaware, unconscious in his sleep? It was not right, and you were supposed to scoot over to the edge to give him plenty of space all for himself.
But as you looked at him again, your eyes stopped at his face, and you couldn’t help but stare at it.
Again.
His nose was something you weirdly have a liking to, and there’s a scar on his cheek that once again bubbled up another layer of curiosity within you.
“Stop it.” You mumbled out loud – not loud enough for Jungkook to hear – but just enough to snap yourself out of the trance you were in.
It was stupid. So stupid. To stare at a sleeping man and have those thoughts inside your head. Jungkook would never do anything like this to you, and at that sentiment, you stood up from the couch to get away.
You caught a sight of the duvet that you used a while ago. As you looked at Jungkook, he seemed to be in dire need of one, so you made quiet steps to put it over him, stopping your breathing in case you did it too loud and he wakes up.
As you carefully laid out the blanket on top of his body, Jungkook stirred, and your breath hitched as you stopped on your tracks.
He mumbled something incoherent, his neck craning to lay on his cheek. Regardless, he stayed on his position, arms still crossed, seemingly going back to his deep sleep instantly.
You stepped out in front of him, letting out a breath of relief.
Standing there for a few seconds, you wondered about where you were going to stay. Jungkook was on the couch and unlike him – you could not carry him to his room without him noticing.
Looking at the direction of said room, you thought about staying there for the night, but decide against it. You didn’t get his permission to do so, it’d be rude—
But the couch is only one, though. And you could feel a yawn ready to come out of your own mouth, sleep lurking at the back of your head.
You could try to wake Jungkook up to tell him to go to his room so he could sleep more comfortably, but you couldn’t do it. The past few days, he had been so busy with work and seemed like he wasn’t getting enough rest. What if you woke him up and he couldn’t go back to sleep anymore? That would just make you feel bad.
Getting the pillow strewn over the edge, you walked towards the direction and fixed it against the arm rest, sitting on the spot and making yourself comfortable on it. Of course, it wasn’t – you were craning your neck too far to the side to try to lay your head, and your body was sprawled in a weird sitting and lying position.
It was fine, though. Jungkook was about two feet away from you, and you felt like you could sleep in the state.
But it was a few long minutes before it completely overtook you.
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There’s a feeling of a hard plane against your back when you feel yourself waking up.
You’re in a curled position, hands tucked under your cheeks. As much as you’re starting to slowly feel conscious, you’re still not a hundred percent aware of your surroundings just yet. It’s why you ignore the blow of hot air against the crook of your neck.
When you blearily open your eyes, you’re welcomed with the sight of the back of the grey couch you’ve accustomed yourself with over the past few days. The white foldable cushion you’re lying on. The familiar scent of Jungkook’s apartment.
It’s another usual morning, as far as you’re concerned.
So, you stretch an arm up as well as your leg, groggily mumbling something as you go back to closing your eyes again to hopefully sneak in a few more minutes of sleep.
“Hmm…”
At the sudden sound, your eyes snap open, surprised at the embodied voice that came out somewhere that’s definitely not from your own mouth. It was close, though – something close to your neck; you felt it so – and at that realization, your eyes trail down to your waist, and your breath catches in your throat when you see an arm wrapped around it.
Under your head is another arm that adorns a familiar sleeve tattoo.
When you crane your neck to look behind you, you’re welcomed by Jungkook’s locks of black and messy hair, his face apparently buried in the crook of your neck.
He must’ve felt you move because he stirs in his position, mumbling something, arm tightening around you.
You feel your heart starting to beat faster than usual as you feel the tips of Jungkook’s fingers resting on the bare skin of your stomach due to your camisole riding up, and your eyes continue to widen when you saw that the shirt he’s worn last night is now lying haphazardly across the coffee table where your laptop is.
When Jungkook pushes himself against you closer, that’s when you feel something hard against the cleft of your ass.
“Oh my god!”
“What the fuck!”
“I’m so sorry!” You immediately say, retreating your hands that just pushed him off the couch once everything registered in your head.
You just… slept with each other! You woke up with Jungkook spooning you! The hard plane against your back that you felt earlier was his chest and the hot air blowing in your ear was his breath! You both fell asleep together on the couch!
Jungkook – the poor man – visibly winces as he cradles the back of his head, adjusting himself on the floor after you forcefully yeeted him off the couch.
He didn’t expect that, of course he didn’t! He still looks like he’s half asleep when you kneel on the floor in front of him, grabbing his shoulders and craning your neck to check if you’ve done damage to his head.
“What the hell was that for?” Jungkook asks, still lost about what just happened.
You grimace as you hesitantly put your palm over the back of his head and rub to soothe the pain you’ve caused him.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push you. I was just surprised and shocked when I–”
You stopped speaking when you notice that Jungkook is looking up at you, eyes half-lidded from sleep. Stopping your ministration on the back of his head, you retreat your hands to yourself and look away.
“We slept together.”
“What?” Jungkook asks, his tone incredulous, but more like confused. When you train your eyes to him again, you see him looking down on his body and then yours.
Your cheeks heat up when you realize what you just said.
“Oh my god, no! Not slept slept with each other! I mean, we slept together. Like, literally.” You say, looking at him in panic.
Jungkook furrows his brows. And then after a beat of silence, he lets out a low, “Oh.”
“Oh?” You parrot back.
“Yeah, oh,” He says drily. Jungkook rubs his eyes with his fists and then looks at you again. “I’m sorry, I feel disoriented. I just woke up.”
You wince at that, feeling bad for pushing him again.
It was just a reflex thing, okay! Especially when you felt that certain something in your ass.
When Jungkook stands up from the floor, you notice the strings of his grey shorts getting undone, and your eyes betray you as they pay a look at the noticeable bulge on his crotch.
Jesus H. Fucking Christ.
You stand up quickly, following after him, feeling your heart hammer in your chest.
Okay, boo-fucking-hoo! Men get boners in the mornings. What’s the big deal about it?
“What time is it?” Jungkook asks, brushing his hair back, and you have to physically look away and try to busy yourself by looking for your phone so you can ignore his naked chest on display and his abs and stupid big arms.
You spot your phone nearby and turn it on.
“Six thirty.”
“Shit.” Jungkook hisses.
You’ve never heard him let out so many curses before.
“What? It’s still early.” you say, in case he was referring to work.
Jungkook shakes his head. “Yeah, no. I was supposed to get ready at five am sharp. Need to go there early.”
“Oh.”
He groans, and the sound makes your stomach feel a little weird.
“I have to go shower,” Jungkook says, picking up his shirt from the coffee table. “I’m sorry about earlier.”
“Huh?” You realize what he’s talking about and is then quick to shake your head. “No, not your fault. I, uh, you fell asleep on the couch last night and I didn’t want to wake you.”
He nods, more like to himself. “How did we…?” Jungkook points between you, eyeing the couch.
“I didn’t want to use your bed without your permission, so I slept on the couch as well,” But then you decide to add, “But I didn’t sleep beside you, I was like –” you point to the edge of the couch, “there.”
“Ah,” Jungkook follows your eyes, and then nods. “Okay.”
“Yeah.” you purse your lips into a thin line. “Sorry about that. I should’ve just woken you up, huh?”
“Nah, it’s fine.” He dismisses you with a wave of his hand. “Well, is it okay if I use the shower first?”
“Of course.”
Jungkook smiles before he saunters towards the bathroom. You try not to stare at the hard lines of his retreating back, taping down to his narrow waist.
You failed to do that, obviously.
Sighing out loud when you’re sure he can’t hear you, you busy yourself in the kitchen to make some toast.
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After work, you paid a quick visit to your apartment to see how it’s going, since you’re supposed to be able to come back tomorrow.
Your building manager told you that you can pretty much move back already, but there’s no water yet, so you will still have to stay at Jungkook’s place for the last time. At least for another night.
Speaking of him, when you step out on your porch, you see him in front of his own unit, back turned to you, opening his door.
“Hey,” you call. Jungkook turns on his heel, and he smiles as he sees you.
“Hey,” He greets, his hand pausing on the door. Jungkook gives you his undivided attention as he looks at you. “Your apartment’s fine now?”
You nod happily, grinning widely. “Yeah. But I have no water yet. They’re turning it on tomorrow.” You saunter towards his direction and stop beside him. Pointing to the paper bags in his hands, you ask, “What’s that?”
Jungkook lifts them up. “Soju and Midday Miso take-out.” Then, hesitantly, he looks at you curiously. “Do you drink?”
That prompts you to laugh.
“Of course. Are you drinking tonight?”
He nods his head. “Yeah. I was gonna ask you to drink with me… but if you’re not up for it, I’ll just be in my room.”
You cock your head to the side.
“What’s the occasion?”
Jungkook chuckles. “Nothing. Just thought I could loosen up.”
You nod in understanding.
You think about asking him how work’s been, but decide against it, not wanting to pry in case he doesn’t want to talk about any of it.
As you both enter his apartment, it’s almost so domesticated how you take off your shoes and put them in the rack in the threshold. Jungkook wears his black sliders while you wear your baby blue ones. Following him into the living room, it’s almost wild to see yourself being so familiar with his place already.
“Where can we watch The X-Files?” Jungkook asks suddenly after he set the bags on the table, going for the remote and turning on the TV.
You look at him in surprise, not expecting him to ask that.
You answer nonetheless, and Jungkook clicks on the show once it shows up on the screen.
“Do you really want to start with the pilot episode?” You chuckle when he hovers over it.
Jungkook grins. “I enjoyed it last night. Maybe this could be a new favorite.”
“Woah,” you breathed, shaking your head. “Do you know how much I have to convince Jimin to watch this show?”
“Jimin doesn’t like shows. I wanted him to watch Suits but he said he couldn’t stand Harvey Specter – which is fair.”
“Oh my god, that’s also what he told me when I recommended Suits!” You say. You narrow your eyes at him, excited about the information. “So… you like Suits?”
Jungkook nods. “Sort of like a guilty pleasure? I used to watch it a lot in college. My roommate studied law and started telling me about how inaccurate it was, but it’s fun regardless,” He says with a shrug. “Sue me.”
“I know, right! People always wanna be smart about procedural dramas, but I think it’s just camp they can’t comprehend,” You shake your head, feeling a certain high bubble inside you. You lean your elbows on the coffee table. “Okay, okay, thoughts on Jessica Pearson?”
Jungkook grins. “A dream.”
You breathe a sigh of relief.
“I’m so glad you have the correct opinion.”
Jungkook laughs at that, and you begin to eat the take-out he bought, The X-Files playing on the big screen before you.
“You went home early today,” you comment as you take the shot glass he offers you.
A few minutes has passed already and you’re beginning to open the bottles of soju, Midday Miso take-out boxes all finished.
“Managed to finish early tonight. That’s probably why I wanted to drink,” Jungkook says, tipping his head back to drink from his own bottle. “Also, it’s your last day here.”
You nod. With a teasing smile, you jab, “Are you going to miss me?”
Jungkook looks at you briefly.
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?” You ask incredulously, feigning hurt.
He chuckles. “I liked your little dance in the kitchen last Sunday.”
Your lips part, recalling that time when you reheated some pizza during the night. As far as you were concerned, Jungkook was in his bedroom at that time!
“You saw that?” You say, embarrassed.
Jungkook must’ve noticed, because he chuckles and begins to sound comforting when he says, “Some part of it, yeah. Megan Thee Stallion would love to perform with you, I think.”
“Oh my god, no,” You giggle, covering your face with your hands because if he caught you during that part, it means he saw you trying to throw it back. “Yeah, I think I’m packing my things right now.”
Jungkook laughs, and his eyes crinkle as he does so, overjoyed at your tactics.
“I thought you wanted to drink with me?”
You squint your eyes. “Just because I feel sorry for pushing you off the couch this morning.”
He shakes his head, still chuckling. “Yeah, that hurt. I think I have a bump on my head right now.”
You stop, eyes widening. “Seriously?”
Jungkook presses his lips together and nods. You grow concerned, ready to lean over the table to check the back of his head, but as you do so, Jungkook makes a sound of stifling his laugh and you realize he’s fucking with you.
“That’s so mean.” you say, going back to your side and pouting at him.
“Not meaner than you pushing me off the couch.” He wiggles his eyebrows.
“Ugh, I’m sorry. You just surprised me, 's all!”
Jungkook laughs and nods his head. “I know, I know. I’m sorry about that. I have a habit of being able to sleep anywhere.”
You scrunch your face. “Me too.”
And then a beat of silence.
Jungkook tips his head back for another sip of his alcohol. When he looks at you again, a gentle smile is playing on his lips.
“I had a good night sleep, though. Did you?”
He looks at you with something in his eyes – something soft and gentle – his gaze making the hair on your nape stand and your cheeks burn.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
The night continues to envelope your surroundings and as time passes by, the empty bottles of soju multiply.
You’ve always had a high tolerance for alcohol – and soju, in particular, is generally not too strong for you personally. With one bottle in, you don’t feel hammered just yet. There’s a daze at the back of your head that you’re starting to feel, though. One and a half is your limit, sometimes two – you’ve had that down since college.
Jungkook seems to share the same trait, it seems like. You noticed he’s on his second one, and even though his cheeks are starting to get painted red, he still speaks with you like he’s a hundred percent conscious and not like alcohol’s hit his system already.
“It’s so hot,” you say, popping open the first two buttons of your shirt. Jungkook’s coat has long been disposed on the couch, and his ties are loosened, with the long sleeves of his dress shirt pushed to his elbow, showing his tattoos.
“Should I adjust the AC?” Jungkook asks, looking at you as you gather your hair up in a ponytail.
You manage to secure it even without a tie and answer him, “No, it’s fine.”
When you feel like you can breathe again, you look at Jungkook. As you think about what to say next, you giggle lightly.
“Let’s have some fun with these,” You point to the empty bottle of soju. Jungkook quirks his brow, which prompts you to continue. “Let’s play spin the bottle. When it points at you, you have to answer some questions. If you don’t want to, then you’ll have to drink.”
Jungkook snorts. “Truth or dare? Really?”
You roll your eyes. “No, not truth or dare. Just truth because I’m sophisticated like that. Besides, are you going to entertain me if I dare you to wear a rainbow suit for work tomorrow?”
“This is your idea of fun?” Jungkook says, teasing you. Playful with a boyish grin.
You shrug. “I mean, it’s quite fun, actually. But I know about how thirty-year-olds get. If it’s past your bedtime, then…” you glance at the door to his bedroom.
Jungkook bursts out in laughter.
“You like making it sound like I’m sixty, don’t you?”
“Are you?” You pout.
Jungkook chuckles, although relenting to your game proposition.
“Alright…”
You do a little shoulder dance which makes Jungkook shake his head. As you spin the bottle, it stops and points at him. You let out a little sound of enthusiasm.
“Okay. What’s that mean?” You ask. Jungkook looks confused as he tries to see what you’re looking at. His arm. “That flower tattoo – or if it even has a meaning.”
“Oh,” Jungkook utters, realizing. He lifts up his right arm and twists it so that the flower tattoo is within both your sight. There, you see a full view of the flower drawing tattooed in orange ink. You find yourself staring at it as Jungkook starts to speak, “It’s a tiger lily. My birth flower. It means…” You can see Jungkook hesitate for a little while, and you’re just about to take back your question when he continues to say, “It means please love me.”
“Wow.” You gasp. “That’s… so pretty.”
Jungkook caresses his forearm, staring quite lovingly at the art. “I know. My tattoo artist did a really good job.”
He takes it to himself to spin the bottle again, and this time, it points at you.
“Well… do you have a tattoo?” Jungkook asks, and it’s obvious he meant to tease.
You nod your head. His playful smile drops.
“Are you serious?”
You raise your brow at him. “Sorry. Only one question gets entertained.”
He clicks his tongue playfully but then begins to spin the bottle one more time. When it points at you again, he gives you a smirk.
“Can I see your tattoo if you’re saying you have one?”
You scrunch your face, cocking your head to the side.
“Hm. I don’t think so. It’s under my boob. So.”
Jungkook stills, and you watch as his eyes trail down from your face down to your collar – although he did it quite subtly.
“Oh.”
You grin. “Yeah, “oh”,” you chuckle. When he shakes his head, you tell him, “What?” You look at him weird, regardless of the smile on your lips. He stares right back at you, and you narrow your eyes at him. “Ohh, I see. You think I’m lying.”
“No, I’m not,” he scoffs. “I just thought…”
“You just thought what?”
“I just thought you wouldn’t have one. Or if you did, it’d be a like a small thing on the leg or something. I don’t know.” He shrugs, still smiling.
You grin. “Interesting insight.”
“Nevermind that.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, spinning the bottle again.
When the rotation stills at his direction, you clap a little and put your elbows on the coffee table.
Your next question sounds stupid in your head, but you let it out anyway.
“What’s your ideal type?” You ask.
“Oh, are we doing that?” Jungkook says, sounding intrigued. “Are you going to ask me about my first kiss next?”
You snort. “This feels so high school. But answer my question.”
“Yes, ma’am,” He playfully gives you a salute. You couldn’t help but giggle. “Okay, well, I like women who are smart and… funny,” Jungkook says, and when he looks at you, you move back a little. With a soft smile, he adds, “And pretty.”
You break the eye contact. Raising your brow, you nod your head. “Pretty women. Like Kang Heesu, right?”
Jungkook looks surprised when he hears the name.
“How do you know her?”
“How can I not? Jimin’s mother has been trying to set him up with her for months now.” You shrug.
Jungkook chuckles, as if he knows exactly what you’re talking about.
“Yeah. You’re right – not about the part that she’s my ideal type, though.”
You can’t help but let out a scoff.
“That’s such a cop-out answer, Jungkook.”
He looks at you incredulously, chuckling as he says, “What? It’s not a cop-out, it’s the truth.”
“You’re awfully close with her. I heard from my coworkers you’re both dating.” You raise a brow at him.
It’s true. Words are starting to get around the office that Jungkook and Heesu are more than just collaborators.
Of course, you know to ignore that. Not because you want to be in denial or anything – but because you just don’t think it is actually true.
But maybe poking fun at it will get you the confirmation. Or whatever. It doesn’t matter.
Jungkook laughs at your previous words, though, as if you just told him a big joke.
“God, no,” he shakes his head, as if he couldn’t believe it. “They’re really saying that?” You nod your head, your lips pressed into a thin line. “I ought to make everybody know we’re just working together. You know about the project the company has in collaboration with Kang Tech, right?”
“Yeah.”
“There you go,” Jungkook chuckles. “I’m not dating Kang Heesu.”
The words feel a bit different in your ears. Paired with the way he looked at you as he said it, he sounded as though he was… almost assuring you.
But of what?
You shake off the idea in your head.
“Okay. Next one.” you interrupt the silence to change the subject. You curse in your head when the bottle stops at you.
“Your turn. What’s your ideal type?” Jungkook asks as if his tongue is just itching to ask you that. You know he’s just excited to get back at you.
You think about it for a moment, though, and you find you don’t really know what to say.
It’s not a thought you ponder over a lot. The guys that you’ve been with were so… different from each other.
“I—I’m not sure,” you shake your head, genuine.
Jungkook points at the shot glass. “New rule. I’ll count to ten and if you don’t answer, you drink.”
You glare at him; he just gives you a grin.
“I really don’t know! I mean, my past relationships are so different from each other,” you say, pouting. “But— okay. I guess I like guys who are… confident,” You look at Jungkook and then let your mind float. “And I guess I also like somebody who’s…” You watch as he leans in closer to wait for your next words. Your feel blood rushing to your cheeks as you finish up with, “Attentive. I like good listeners. Yeah.”
“Ah,” Jungkook nods. And then, he adds, “Is Shin Taemu from the IT department a good listener, then?”
Your brows furrow. “Shin Taemu?” He nods. That earns a laugh from you. “No, we’re friends.”
“Friends?” Jungkook asks curiously.
“Well, we – uh – did date. Didn’t work out. So. We’re only friends now.”
“Date, as in, a long relationship?” His eyes are so full of genuine curiosity that you cower away from them.
You shake your head at his question. “No, no – not long relationship, it wasn’t like that. I meant date as in – dinner date. Once.” You look at the shot glass and down it because of the sudden nerves that enter you. “We’re doing this game wrong.”
Jungkoon chuckles at the way you drink another glass. He mirrors your action, though, and ask, “How so? We’re questioning each other.”
“Yeah, but it’s too many questions!” You complain, jutting your lips into a pout.
“You said you only wanted truth, so there goes your questions,” Jungkook says. You roll your eyes, which makes him laugh. “Okay, just so I can amuse you, I’ll do a dare if it points at me, and you’ll do one if it stops at you. Deal?”
When you nod, Jungkook spins the bottle. He did it quite forcefully that the bottle takes a longer time to stop. You both watch keenly as it begins to slow down. Nervous, you pray it doesn’t stop at you, and you let out a sigh of relief when it finally points to Jungkook.
Jungkook shakes his head when you let out a contained, “Yes!”
“I dare you to…” you trail off, watching as he looks at you curiously. “Let me pluck your brows.”
“What?” Jungkook asks incredulously.
“A promise is a promise.” You remind him.
“Like all of them?”
“What? Of course no!” You chuckle, seeing the genuine panic in his eyes.
“Oh.”
“You silly,” You say, laughing at him. “Not right now, though. I actually feel like I’m about to pass out. Oh my god, I have to tend to a hung-over tomorrow.” You let your face fall into your hands and stifle a groan.
“I’ll cook us some porridge or something, don’t worry.” Jungkook says. Curiously, he asks, “Why do you want to pluck my brows?”
You stare at him, and then focus your eyes onto his brows.
Pouting, you let your shoulders deflate as you sigh. “They’re so thick.”
“What?” Jungkook lets out, laughing incredulously. “I’m so confused.”
“You wouldn’t get it.”
“Okay… well, would you let me pluck your brows?”
You try to think about it.
“No,” you shake your head. You add, “Unless you’re flirting with me.”
Jungkook stops. And then raises a brow. “Unless I’m flirting with you…”
You snap your eyes to look at him. Mirroring his brow, you ask, “Are you flirting with me?”
“Maybe,” Jungkook looks at you, lips tilted into a barely-there smirk that suddenly makes your cheeks burn with heat. “Do you like it?”
It takes you a while to answer, processing his words. You don’t know if he’s joking or what. Is this just his usual teasing? It feels different this time.
But why are you denying it again to yourself, though? You may be stupid sometimes, but you know his teasing gets a little… borderline flirty. You’re scared to ask him about it outright, though – afraid to be faced with the possible truth that it’s just your head playing mind-tricks for you; that Jungkook, with his teasing, is not flirty at all and you’re just flattering yourself to think about it that way.
But right now, his question feels real.
If he is flirting with you… do you like it?
You pour a drink into the shotglass and down it quickly. You feel your vision starting to get a little hazy as you put it down the table.
Jungkook realizes what you just did, and then throw his head back to laugh.
“Now, that was a cop-out.” He says, pointing to the trick that you just did.
You give him a smirk. “No rules about not answering except down a drink.”
Jungkook chuckles. “Smart girl.”
He watches as you stand up, but when you trip over the carpet, he’s quick to follow and go over to your direction to hold your wrist, his arm going around your waist to guide you to stand upright.
“You okay?” He asks. When you look up, your faces are just a hair's breadth away.
“Hm.” You hum, blinking your eyes up at him. You find it’s because your lids are starting to get heavy.
“Be careful.” Jungkook says, but he doesn’t let go of your waist, nor your wrist.
You stand there in the middle of the living room with that position, and weirdly enough, you feel like you’re both glued on it.
You can’t move – or don’t want to. You wish you want to. But you don’t, and it’s why you let Jungkook’s fingers trail softly to your waist.
“You look real sleepy,” he comments – whispers, more like, his bated breath hitting your skin.
“I am a bit dazy.” You say, finding yourself indulging in his touch.
Somehow, Jungkook never makes a move to get away even when you’re already steady on both feet. You feel that fading away so soon though, your knees starting to feel like they’re about to buckle at the way Jungkook’s eyes bore deep into your own. You feel a sort of heightened sense within your body, his hand on your back making something in you tingle.
It’s so intimate – the position. Jungkook looms over you with his much bigger frame and with his support on your back, you can just let yourself fall back.
Can you, though? Are you sure he’s going to catch you?
“You do look a little dazy,” Jungkook comments, but his eyes have traveled down to your face, and you can see them stop at your lips.
That makes them part.
You see Jungkook’s adam’s apple bobbing at the action.
“I do feel dazy,” you say, parroting back his words. Maybe they’re coming off slurred. You don’t know. You find you don’t care.
Jungkook’s lips tilt into a gentle smile. Soft like his demeanor. Soft like his arm that somehow found a way to tighten its hold around you even though you don’t need it. But it’s Jungkook though, and as much as you deny it even to yourself – you do like his touch.
“Yeah, you told me so.” His voice becomes an octave lower. His hands start to rub your clothed waist, and the ministrations of his thumb distract you a bit.
You roam your eyes around his face – noting the scar on his cheek which story you want to know so bad. When you trail you eyes down to his lips, you see the mole under it. You don’t think you were being subtle at all – it’s quite obvious that you’re just staring.
And you know Jungkook notices.
“Jungkook,” you breathed out, calling him about nothing in particular.
His only response is a small, gentle hum.
A beat of silence, and you feel Jungkook’s face leaning closer to yours.
You don’t make a move away from him, just let your legs stay where they are, letting Jungkook slowly pull you to him. You can tell his movements are slower than usual – like he’s testing the waters, searching for something in your eyes, quietly asking if it’s okay – if what he’s about to do is okay.
It makes your heart hammer against your chest – his breathing becoming more audible in your own ears. His mouth reeks of the soju you both drank earlier, but you’ve always liked the smell of it, especially when it comes with a man as breathtaking as him.
You feel the tip of his nose touching yours, your chest pressing against his own, his hand travelling from your waist to the back of your head.
When Jungkook leans down to close the gap, you swerve your face just in time to have his lips press against your hair instead.
“I’m sleepy.” You say quietly, a nervous lilt to your voice. You duck your head a little lower, laying your face on his chest and bury it with his scent.
You can feel Jungkook freeze in his position, taken aback by the sudden turn of events. You hope he doesn’t feel the way your heart goes abnormal in your chest with such proximity – but right now, all you want to do is hide. Hide your face away from him because if he sees you, he’ll know exactly what you’re thinking.
He’ll know exactly the effect he has on you.
It takes a few seconds of silence before Jungkook comes back to you.
“Hm,” He hums, and you feel his hand letting go of your wrist to wrap around your waist, squeezing for a brief moment. Jungkook’s other hand cradles your head to his chest, swiping his hand against your hair in a repeated manner, and with the way he rests his chin on the crown of your head, you feel comfort in the whole thing. “We should sleep.”
“Yeah…” you trail off, and you can just feel your lids getting heavier at the remark.
“Yeah?”
“Hm.”
“I’ll take the couch. Do you want to shower first?” You shake your head against his chest. You feel it vibrating when he chuckles. “Okay.”
“My body feels like jelly.” You say, and you feel that to be actually true.
“Is that code for “carry me to your bed, Jungkook”?”
You’re thankful your face is buried in his chest as you smile widely.
“Do you want it to be?”
“I don’t mind.”
You nod. “Good. I think I’ll get alcohol poisoning tomorrow.”
You feel Jungkook lifting his chin off your head as he sounds scold-y when he says, “Don’t joke like that.”
You giggle against his chest.
“Carry me before I pass out.”
Jungkook snorts. “Ohh. Bossy.”
“It’s my last day here. I deserve some slack.” You grumble.
“Fine.”
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TAGLIST: @mortal-body-timelesssoul @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @lachimolalajeon @miniesjams32 @parkinglot-nights @peterstarkchrishiddleston @aznstoner @chuberry22 @tae-hibiscus @jungkooksmytype
note: pls check your account settings if you are enabling ur profile to be tagged.
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rynbutt · 6 months
Text
pierced. pt. 3 | spencer reid.
Spencer wanted this date to go perfectly, he wanted to treat you like a princess and maybe even land a second date... but why is Hotch calling?
pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 4
cw: fem!reader, kissing, slight angst, fluffy
a/n: kicking my feet fr
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You started getting ready two hours earlier than you normally would.
Sure, you had been on dates before, but you could confidently say you’d never been this excited to go on a date before. You’d been on the odd blind date that your friend from back home set up, but they usually went as well as you’d expect a date with a misogynistic frat boy with mommy issues to go… not great. After Spencer had walked you home, and called to ask you out for dinner, you were utterly giddy. 
You barely got any sleep that night, your mind and heart racing a mile a minute thinking about the kiss you shared outside your apartment building. You spent the most of the afternoon picking out an outfit, staring at your body in the mirror while you turned side on, front on, side on again to make sure your ass looked good (it did).
You asked Spencer to tell you where he was taking you, because you really didn’t want to be underdressed or overdressed. He insisted it was nothing fancy but a man’s idea of fancy and a woman’s idea of fancy are very different things.
You picked something that felt like the best of both worlds, a semi-formal mini dress and dressed down with your favourite knitted cardigan. You spent the rest of the afternoon getting ready, styling your hair, picking jewellery and shoes and doing your makeup. 
You had been excited the whole day but as 6pm got closer and closer, you started to get nervous. It had been a while since you’d gone on a date with someone you felt you really liked and wanted to impress, it was a strange feeling.
Spencer knocked on your door at exactly 6pm. You were in the middle of pulling applying your lipgloss when he knocked. You cursed quietly to yourself, thinking you had way more time than you actually did. You’d hoped he’d be at least a little bit late. He was a genius though, punctuality was kind of his thing. 
You almost tripped over your shoes running to the front door, a cleaning task you would tackle when you got home. You pulled the door open with a smile beaming across your face. Your heart fluttered at the sight of Spencer’s precious face peeking over a bouquet of pink tulips.
“Hi,” he said softly with a tight lipped smile. He held the tulips out toward you, “for you.”
“Spencer…” you pouted at the gesture, taking the tulips from his grasp. “They’re so beautiful.”
“Garcia said flowers would make a good impression,” he lied, he actually read a considerable amount of articles and first date guides all day at work. But Garcia did help him pick the flowers.
“Well, she was right. Tulips are my favourite,” you grinned, turning back into your apartment to find and fill a vase. “Come in, I won’t be a minute, I just need to put my shoes on and grab my purse.”
Spencer awkwardly stepped into your apartment, glancing around at the now fully decorated space, a far cry from what it looked like just 3 weeks ago. You quickly went to put your shoes on and put some money, your lipgloss and perfume in your purse. You closed the door to your bedroom and paused, staring at Spencer as he squatted down and rubbed Tofu’s belly.
“Made a new friend?” You asked.
Spencer smiled with utter delight, “She’s so fluffy.”
You giggled at Spencer’s response, grabbing the keys for your apartment off the kitchen counter. Spencer dusted the cat fur off his pants before spinning on his heel to face you, “ready to go?”
“Yeah,” you smiled. You stepped closer until you were just in front of him, you reached up and adjusted his tie gently. “You look very handsome.”
His cheeks felt hot, “T-thank you… You-! You look really nice too- beautiful! You look beautiful…” he stammered, exaggeratedly gesturing at your appearance.
You giggled softly, “thank you, Spence… Shall we?”
“Yes, yes, right,” he replied, quickly scurrying to the door to open it for you.
The two of you made your way down to his car and he made a point to run ahead of you when you left your apartment building to open his passenger door for you. He was intensely determined to be a gentleman, wanting to give you a good impression so maybe you’d go on another date with him, maybe even come to Rossi’s dinner party next week. But he was getting ahead of himself, he should probably focus on the road.
“...So where are you taking me?” You asked, glancing out the car window at the city speeding by. 
“It’s one of my favourite places,” he replied, hands nervously gripping the wheel. “I… hope you like it.”
“I’m just happy to spend time with you, Spencer… We could sit on the pavement outside a seven eleven and I’d be thrilled,” you grinned, folding your hands in your lap as you watched him glance at you. You watched him for a moment, chuckling to yourself whenever he would glance down at your lap then clear his throat.
Spencer was really trying to keep his eyes on the road, but your plush thighs in the corner of his eye were proving to be very distracting. He had never had a pretty girl in his passenger seat before, especially not a girl he was taking on a date. 
Spencer drove for maybe 30 minutes before he pulled into a parking lot. Once he parked, he quickly got out of the car and did a little run around the front to open your door for you, reaching to help you out of his car.
Spencer held his elbow out for you and you linked arms, your hand gently holding his upper arm. There was a long line up outside the restaurant, people talking and laughing, clearly it was a popular spot. Spencer was stiff with nervousness, his hands clammy as you leaned your temple against his shoulder.
“You okay?” You questioned gently.
He nodded quickly, “Yeah, just… I’ve never been on a proper date before.”
You pouted, “well don’t be nervous. I’m only here for you, Spence. I’m sure it’ll be perfect.”
Spencer’s phone suddenly rang in his jacket pocket. You quickly let go of his arm as he pulled it out of his pocket, staring at Hotch’s caller ID. He hesitated for a moment, knowing it was work and he would likely have to leave. Spencer looked at you with such sadness and disappointment in his eyes.
“Work?” You asked softly.
“Yeah… But I-”
“It’s okay, Spencer,” you smiled sadly. “Your job’s important.”
Spencer sighed before stepping away from the line and answering the call. You couldn’t hear what he was saying but he sounded upset given his gestures and frantic running of his hand through his hair. After a minute he hung up, slipping his phone in his pocket. He looked at you sadly, opening his mouth to say something but you cut him off.
“It’s okay, Spencer,” you held his face softly. “You go, I’ll get a cab, okay? And when you get back you can tell me all about how you kicked ass, okay?”
Spencer breathed out a laugh and nodded timidly, “Okay.”
“Go,” you said, letting go of his face as he quickly darted away to his car. He was almost out of sight when you watched him turn back, running back to you. He quickly planted a kiss on your lips, breathing hard against you. You smiled against his lips and held his cheek in your hand. He pulled away just as fast, your lipgloss smeared along his lips. You wiped it off with your thumb, “okay, now go.”
“I’ll call you,” he breathed, kissing your cheek quickly before running off.
It killed him leaving you there. Spencer wasn’t someone who got angry that easily but he was in a bad mood about this. He charged through the bullpen that night like a bulldozer, ready to set fire to anyone who dared ask him ‘how he was’. Morgan, JJ and Emily sensed the crankiness the moment Spencer pulled his chair out and sat down with a thud, crossing his arms angrily. 
“Rough night, lover boy?” Morgan asked, trying to lighten the mood.
“Wasn’t much of a night at all, really,” Spencer retorted with an attitude.
“Woah, woah, what happened?” Emily questioned, eyes narrowing at Spencer.
“I had a date, okay? That girl you met last night? Y/N? I was taking her to my favourite restaurant and then Hotch called and I-” Spencer had to stop himself before he blew up. His lips formed a tight line as he stared at the table, not daring to look up.
“Aw, Spence…” JJ sighed, “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t help,” Spencer mumbled. He spent the rest of their meeting in a foul mood, barely listening to JJ as she listed the details of their next case. They were never usually called in on their days off but after almost twenty bodies, the BAU had a lot cut out for them.
“We’ll leave in two hours,” Hotch dismissed. Spencer was first up, grabbing the small stack of files and pushing toward the door to go to his desk. Morgan and Emily looked at each other, sharing a look of disbelief over Spencer’s crankiness. 
Spencer sat at his desk pushing his pen around, barely touching the cup of sugar with a splash of coffee that JJ got for him. All he could think about was how you probably wouldn’t talk to him again after this, he knew this job came with sacrifices, but he just wanted one thing, one thing, to himself.
“You okay, Reid?” Penelope asked softly. 
Spencer glanced up at her, letting out a sigh, “I was on a date with Y/N before this… We didn’t even get to sit down.”
Penelope’s shoulders slumped at his words, “I’m sure you’ll be able to make it up to her,” she said hopefully. 
Spencer nodded slowly, “I hope so.”
Penelope stepped away to answer a phone call and Spencer was left feeling sorry for himself at his desk for the next 30 minutes, going through his mind the different things he could say or do to make it up to you. Maybe he should call you? Text you? Drop by when he gets back? Or maybe he could buy you another cat as a peace offering-
“Is this seat taken?”
Spencer’s head shot up from his desk, coming face to face with you, your hand resting on the empty chair by his desk.
“Y/N? What are you-”
“I called Penelope,” you answered, “She told me you weren’t leaving for another hour so… I thought I’d bring dinner?”
You held out a plastic bag of take away food from the restaurant he took you to. You asked Penelope what his favourite thing on the menu was and bought some extra for yourself. Spencer looked like a kicked puppy as he stared up at you in disbelief.
He stood up and quickly hugged you, making you chuckle at the sudden affection. You felt your face heat up at all the eyes suddenly on you and Spencer. Morgan whooped from his desk, cheering loudly and obnoxiously, prompting Spencer to pull away from you.
“I’m so sorry,” Spencer whispered.
“You don’t have to apologise, Spence,” you replied. “You love your job and it’s important,” you shrugged, placing the plastic bag on his desk.
“God, you’re so sweet it’s killing me,” Emily grumbled, walking by with a fresh cup of coffee. She pointed at Spencer, brows raised, “keep her.”
You and Spencer shared a laugh before he pulled a chair over closer to his for you. You sat down and pulled your takeaway dinner from the plastic bag, letting Spencer tell you all about the restaurant and why this specific meal was his absolute favourite. His knees brushed against yours under his desk and he just revelled in the comfort of your company.
“So, what’s your new case?” You asked, taking a sip of your drink.
“Uh, well,” he trailed off.
“You can’t tell me, huh?” You chuckled.
“Not really, sorry,” he replied. “I’m sure it’ll be on the news tomorrow.”
“Right, well. I’m sure deep down I don’t really wanna know,” you shrugged.
He nodded, “the cases we work aren’t exactly pleasant.” Spencer sighed, “I wish we could have actually had a date.”
“This is a date,” you replied. “Is it not?”
“Well… I mean, it’s just not what I wanted for our first date.”
“Like I said Spence, you could take me to a seven eleven and I’d have a blast,” you chuckled, reaching over to run a thumb across his cheek. “You can make it up to be on our second date.”
Spencer quickly looked at you, “Second date?”
“Yeah… only if you want to?”
“Yes, yeah. I want to,” he replied almost too fast. You smiled sweetly at him, a piece of your hair falling from behind your ear. Oh yeah, he’s done for.
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a/n: had you in the first half, didn't i... dare i say you've pierced his heart, HAHAHAH
taglist: @crazycat-ladys-blog @cillsnostalgia @secretly-tumb1r
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a-lexia11 · 16 days
Text
Crossing the line (part 2)
Ingrid Engen x Putellas!reader
Alexia Putellas x sister!reader
Word count:Around 4k
Warning:some angst
Part 1, Part 3
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The days that followed were a whirlwind of emotions. Ingrid and you began texting—nothing too serious, just light conversation, sharing random thoughts and funny memes.
But even through the screen, you felt something shift. Each message from her made you smile, your heart race, and gave you hope that maybe, just maybe, this could turn into something more.
Yet with each text, a sense of guilt started creeping in.You were hiding something from Alexia, and you knew deep down she wouldn’t be okay with it. The more Ingrid and you talked, the heavier that secret felt, like a weight pressing down on you.
You tried to act normal around Alexia, but it was difficult. Every time she asked about your day or what you’ve been up to, you had to hold back from mentioning Ingrid. Lying to her felt wrong, but you didn’t see any other option.
If she knew—if she even suspected—that you had a huge crush on Ingrid, especially after you exchanged numbers and started texting constantly, she would step in without hesitation.
Alexia’s protective nature would take over, and she’d end things before you even had a chance to figure out what this could be with Ingrid.
The texts between Ingrid and you weren’t anything overtly romantic, but there was an undeniable undertone. A lingering question in every exchange
A “what if” that neither of you said out loud but both of you seemed to feel. There was something simmering beneath the surface, and it was getting harder and harder to ignore.
——
One evening, after an exhausting day, you found yourself lying on your bed, phone in hand. Ingrid had just sent you a photo of her latest painting—an incredible piece bursting with vibrant colors and raw emotion.
You admired the artwork, but more than that, you found yourself admiring her—someone so strong, talented, and kind, someone who seemed to draw you in deeper with every passing day.
Just as you were about to reply to Ingrid's message, your phone buzzed again. It was a call from Alexia. Your heart skipped a beat.
“Hola, Alexia” you greeted, trying to sound as casual as possible.
“Hola, cariño” she responded, her voice bright and full of warmth. “¿Qué estás haciendo?” (What are you up to?)
“Solo descansando” you replied, glancing at Ingrid’s message again “¿Y tú?” (Just relaxing,What about you?)
“Acabo de terminar de cenar con algunas de las chicas” Alexia said softly. “Pensé en llamar a mi hermanita favorita” (Just finished dinner with some of the girls. Thought I’d check in on my favorite little sister.)
A smile tugged at your lips, but the weight of the secret you were keeping made it hard to fully enjoy the moment. “¡Oh, le diré a Alba que dijiste eso!” you teased, hoping to keep things light. (Oh, I'm telling Alba you said that)
She laughed, the sound comforting and familiar. “De todos modos, estaba pensando… ha pasado un tiempo desde que tuvimos un buen rato de hermanas. ¿Qué te parece si vamos a cenar este fin de semana? Solo nosotras dos.” (Anyway, I was thinking... it’s been a while since we’ve had some proper sister time. How about we grab dinner this weekend? Just the two of us)
The idea of a quiet evening with Alexia should have made you happy, but your heart sank.
Spending time with her, knowing you were hiding something that could hurt her, felt like a betrayal. Yet, there was no way you could say no without raising suspicion.
“Sí, suena genial,” you said, forcing your voice to stay steady. “¿El sábado?” (Yeah, that sounds great, Saturday?)
“¡Perfecto! Haré una reserva en algún lugar bonito. Te lo mereces.” (Perfect! I’ll make a reservation somewhere nice. You deserve it.)
Her words only made the guilt gnaw at you harder. “Gracias, Ale. Estoy deseando que llegue” (Thanks, Ale. I’m looking forward to it)
“Te extraño, Y/N,” she said, her voice soft and sincere. “Las cosas han estado tan locas últimamente con el fútbol. Siento que no he pasado suficiente tiempo contigo.” (I miss you, Y/N. Things have been so crazy lately with football. I feel like I haven’t spent enough time with you.)
Her words hit you harder than you expected. Alexia had always been there for you, always protective, always your biggest supporter.
Now, you were keeping something from her that she would never expect. “Yo también te extraño,” you said quietly, your throat tight with guilt. (I miss you too)
“Bueno, solucionaremos eso este fin de semana,” she promised, her tone lightening again. “Te enviaré los detalles más tarde. Te quiero, cariño.” (Well, we’ll fix that this weekend. I’ll text you the details later. I love you)
“También te quiero, Alexia.” (I love you too, Alexia)
After hanging up, you sat still for a long moment, staring down at your phone. Your lock screen showed an old photo of the three of you—Alexia, Alba, and you as a baby.
In the picture, Alexia was holding you, kissing your cheek, while Alba smiled brightly at the camera, clutching your tiny hand.
The image filled you with warmth, but also deepened the ache in your chest.
How could you keep this from Alexia? Eventually, she would find out, and the thought of how much it would hurt her weighed heavily on you. Disappointing her, breaking her trust—it was something you couldn’t bear.
But at the same time, you couldn’t deny what you felt for Ingrid. Every conversation, every laugh you shared, made your feelings grow stronger.
The spark between you two was undeniable, and it made you feel more alive than you had in ages. You couldn’t just walk away from that, even if the risk was high.
You sighed deeply, running a hand through your hair, lost in the swirl of emotions. Your phone buzzed again, and your heart leaped, expecting it to be Alexia texting you details about dinner.
But it wasn’t.
It was Ingrid.
Ingrid: Hey, you still awake?
Your heart jumped a little when you saw her message. You hesitated briefly before quickly typing a reply.
Y/N: Yeah, I’m up. What’s going on?
Her response was almost instant.
Ingrid: You didn’t answer my last message, so I just wanted to check if you were asleep—and see how you’re doing.
A soft smile tugged at your lips, even as the guilt you’d been carrying gnawed at you. Somehow, Ingrid always had a way of making things feel lighter, even when everything was complicated.
Y/N: I’m good. Just relaxing. What about you?
Ingrid: Same. Been thinking about you, actually. Remember when we hung out at the park? I really loved that day.
Your heart fluttered at her words. Knowing she was thinking of you, too, made something in your chest stir.
Y/N: Yeah, me too. That was a really great time.
There was a short pause before her next message appeared.
Ingrid: I was wondering... how about we grab coffee again sometime? Or maybe something more? Like dinner?
Your breath caught in your throat. Dinner? Was this her way of asking you out?
A big part of you wanted to say yes right away. But the other part, the one weighed down with guilt and worry about Alexia, hesitated.
You stared at her message for what felt like an eternity, fingers hovering over the keyboard, before finally making a decision.
Y/N: I’d love to.
As soon as you hit send, a mix of excitement and dread washed over you. You were walking a fine line now, and you knew it.
But you couldn’t stop yourself. You wanted to see where things with Ingrid would go, even if it meant more secrets.
Ingrid: Great! How about Saturday evening?
Your heart sank a little. Saturday—your dinner plans with Alexia. Panic surged through you, but you quickly pulled yourself together.
Y/N: Actually, I have plans with my sister on Saturday. How about Sunday instead?
Ingrid: Sunday works! Let’s make it a date, then. 😊
A date. That word sent a rush of excitement through you, but it also tightened the knot of anxiety in your stomach.
This was it—you were crossing the line, stepping into something that might hurt Alexia if she found out.
But it was too late. You were already in too deep, and part of you didn’t want to pull back.
Y/N: I’m looking forward to it. 😊
Ingrid: Same here. See you Sunday. Sweet dreams, Y/N.
Y/N: Sweet dreams, Ingrid.
You set your phone down, leaning back against the couch and staring up at the ceiling.
Your mind was racing, spinning with everything that had happened recently. You were torn—caught between your loyalty to Alexia and the undeniable feelings you were developing for Ingrid. And you didn’t know how to make sense of either.
All you knew for certain was that Sunday couldn’t come soon enough.
——
Sunday arrived sooner than you had expected, bringing with it a whirlwind of emotions that you could hardly contain.
As you got ready, the nerves were almost overwhelming, but excitement pulsed just beneath the surface.
You spent Saturday evening with Alexia, trying your best to act normal as you laughed and reminisced over dinner.
It was like old times, just the two of you—but all the while, a gnawing guilt tugged at your chest.
You couldn’t tell her. Not yet. The weight of the secret was almost suffocating, but you pushed it down. You had agreed to the date with Ingrid, and despite the turmoil, part of you was incredibly excited.
It had been so long since you’d been on a real date, and Ingrid… well, she was someone you hadn’t expected to feel this strongly about.
You decided to meet at a small, cozy restaurant near the city center. It was intimate, perfect for a quiet evening, away from prying eyes.
You arrived a little early, trying to calm the nervous fluttering in your stomach as you checked your phone repeatedly. You were barely paying attention when you looked up and saw her.
Ingrid approached, looking effortlessly stunning. She wore a simple black dress that hugged her in all the right places, with a light jacket draped over her shoulders.
Her dark hair was tied loosely in a ponytail, and as she got closer, you noticed the soft, nervous smile on her lips.
“Hey,” she greeted softly when she reached you. “You look… incredible.” She wrapped her arms around you in a light hug, her perfume enveloping you in a scent that was both comforting and intoxicating. You could have stayed like that forever.
You felt the warmth rise to your cheeks as you pulled back. "Thanks. You look amazing too," you replied, feeling self-conscious but also grateful for her compliment.
Her blue eyes twinkled in the soft evening light, and she gestured toward the entrance. “Shall we?”
You walked inside together, and as you were shown to your table, her hand brushed against yours. The touch was brief, but it sent a shiver up your spine. You could feel the tension already building between you, subtle yet electric.
The dinner started easily enough. You talked about football, music, books—everything that usually filled your conversations. But tonight felt different. Every smile, every laugh seemed charged with something more.
As the night wore on, the topics turned deeper. You spoke about your families, your fears, and even your past relationships—or lack thereof.
You found yourself opening up to Ingrid in ways you hadn’t with anyone in a long time. There was something so comforting about her presence, like she really saw you.
After dinner, neither of you wanted the night to end, so you decided to take a walk through the city. The streets were quieter now, the evening settling in, and you found yourselves near the beach.
The sound of the waves crashing softly against the shore filled the silence between you as you made your way down to a large rock by the water.
You sat there together, so close that your arms touched, and it felt so natural, so right. Your heart was racing, and you could feel the heat from her body next to yours.
Ingrid broke the comfortable silence first, her voice softer now, more vulnerable. “I’ve never really been in a serious relationship,” she admitted, her eyes focused on the horizon. “I guess I just… never found the right person.”
Her words surprised you. Ingrid always seemed so confident, so sure of herself, but hearing this side of her—this vulnerability—made your chest tighten with emotion.
You swallowed hard, your own feelings bubbling up. “Maybe you just haven’t been looking in the right places.”
She turned to look at you then, a small, shy smile pulling at her lips. “Maybe.”
The air between you thickened with tension, the unspoken attraction growing stronger by the second. You could feel her eyes on you, the way her body leaned slightly closer, and your breath caught in your throat. Your heart was pounding so loudly, you were sure she could hear it.
And then, without another word, Ingrid leaned in. Her lips brushed against yours in the softest, most tentative kiss. It was gentle at first, testing, as though she was waiting for you to pull away—but you didn’t. You couldn’t. Instead, you leaned into her, your heart racing as you kissed her back.
The kiss deepened, her hand coming up to cup your cheek as you wrapped your arms around her waist, pulling her closer.
The feel of her, the warmth of her lips, sent a surge of electricity through your entire body. Time seemed to stop. Nothing else existed in that moment but you—her lips on yours, her body pressed against yours, the world fading into the background.
When you finally pulled away, you were both breathless. Ingrid’s cheeks were flushed, her blue eyes wide and bright as she looked at you, her lips slightly parted.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I… I couldn’t help it.”
You shook your head, a breathless laugh escaping you as you touched her hand. “Don’t be sorry.”
She smiled, a mixture of relief and something deeper flashing across her face. For a long moment, you just sat there, staring at each other, the reality of what had just happened settling between you.
Then, without warning, she leaned in again, this time more confidently. Her lips found yours again, the kiss slower, more lingering. Your heart raced as you kissed her back, your fingers threading through her hair, pulling her closer.
Her hands roamed softly down your back, sending shivers through you as the kiss deepened even further. Every touch, every movement felt like fire, and you couldn’t get enough of her.
You kissed again and again, each one more intense than the last. You could feel the desire building between you, the heat of her body against yours as you held each other, lost in the moment.
The world around you seemed to disappear, and it was just you—just Ingrid and you, your lips, your hands, your hearts beating in unison.
When you finally pulled away for air, you were both panting, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. You couldn’t help but smile, the thrill of it all coursing through you.
“Ingrid…” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. “I don’t want to stop.”
She smiled softly, her fingers brushing against your cheek. “Me neither.”
You stayed there for a while longer, exchanging soft kisses, wrapped up in each other. It felt so perfect, so right, and yet, there was a part of you that knew this wasn’t going to be easy.
As much as you wanted to stay in this moment forever, reality was waiting, and with it, the complications of your lives—of Alexia.
Ingrid seemed to sense your hesitation because she pulled back slightly, her eyes searching yours. “Y/N, I know this is complicated. With Alexia and everything. But I want you to know that I really like you. And I don’t want to keep hiding how I feel.”
Her words were like a punch to the gut, but in the best way possible. You nodded, feeling the weight of everything you were getting into. “I like you too, Ingrid. So much. But…”
“But Alexia,” she finished for you, her smile turning bittersweet. “I know. It’s not going to be easy.”
You sighed, your heart heavy with the reality of it all. “She’s going to be furious.”
“She’ll understand… eventually. She loves you.” Ingrid’s thumb stroked the back of your hand soothingly. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”
Her words brought you a sense of comfort, even though you knew the road ahead wouldn’t be simple. But for now, all you wanted was to hold onto this moment with her. To let yourself feel the happiness you hadn’t felt in so long.
“Okay," I whispered. "We’ll take it slow.”
She smiled, leaning in for one last kiss, her lips soft and lingering against yours. “Slow sounds perfect.”
And with that, the world seemed to fall away once more, leaving only you—two hearts intertwined, the future uncertain, but the present full of hope.
——
In the weeks that followed, you and Ingrid continued to meet in secret, cherishing each moment like it was something fragile and precious.
Whether it was meeting for a quiet coffee in a tucked-away café, taking long walks through hidden parks, or sneaking in a few more intimate dinners, being together felt like an escape.
Each time, the world around you blurred, leaving just the two of you cocooned in your own private bubble.
It was impossible not to be swept away by her. The way her eyes lit up when she laughed, how her smile seemed to make everything else fade, or how she looked at you like no one else in the world existed—it was intoxicating.
Every kiss you shared, every hug, felt like time slowed to a standstill, as if nothing else mattered but the feel of her warmth against you.
You hadn’t defined what this was yet, hadn’t put labels on the connection between you. But it didn’t need words to be felt.
The pull between you two was undeniable, and you knew, even without saying it out loud, that what you had with Ingrid was real—and strong.
One evening after a late dinner, as the two of you strolled along the street of Barcelona, Ingrid paused, turning to face you.
Her hand reached for yours, fingers intertwining with a softness that made your heart flutter.
“Y/N,” she began, her voice low and thoughtful, “do you ever think about what we are? I mean… I know we haven’t talked about it, but this, what we have… it’s more than just casual, right?”
You felt your breath catch for a moment, the reality of the situation pushing against the feelings you had for her. You nodded slowly, unable to look away from her eyes.
“It feels like so much more,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. “I think about it all the time. I think about you all the time.”
A small smile tugged at her lips, and she leaned in, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m glad I’m not the only one,” she murmured, her breath warm against your skin.
The moments you spent with her felt like everything, yet the weight of what you were hiding from Alexia gnawed at you.
Every time you were with your sister, the guilt grew heavier, impossible to ignore. Alexia had no idea what was happening between you and Ingrid, and each time she mentioned her in passing—a casual comment about training or a game—you had to fight the urge to spill everything.
One afternoon, as you sat with Alexia after one of her games, she casually brought up Ingrid again. “Ingrid estaba imparable hoy, ¿verdad?” she said, her tone light as she scrolled through her phone. “Me encanta cómo siempre lo da todo” (Ingrid was on fire today, right?. I love how she always gives it her all.)
Your stomach twisted at her words, a pang of guilt creeping up your spine. You forced a smile, trying to keep your tone even. “Sí, estuvo genial” (Yeah, she was great.)
But inside, you were crumbling. How much longer could you keep this secret? The fear of Alexia finding out—of her being hurt, angry, or worse—was constant, always lurking in the back of your mind.
You wanted to believe she would understand, that she would see how much Ingrid meant to you, but there was no escaping the possibility that it would change everything between you.
Later that night, as you lay in bed, your phone buzzed with a message from Ingrid.
Ingrid: Are you okay? You seemed quiet today.
You hesitated before replying, your heart heavy with conflicting emotions.
Y/N: I’m okay… it’s just… Alexia. I don’t know how much longer I can keep this from her.
A few moments passed before Ingrid responded.
Ingrid: I’ve been thinking about that too. I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide this, hide us. But I get it… it’s complicated.
You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you stared at the screen. The truth was, no matter how much you tried to act normal around Alexia, it was getting harder.
She had started to give you these curious looks, as if sensing that something was off. You were doing your best to keep things steady, but the cracks were beginning to show.
And the worst part? You didn’t know how much longer you could keep pretending.
The next time you saw Ingrid was for a movie night at your apartment, a special occasion since she would be staying over. Your heart fluttered with a mix of excitement and nervousness as you prepared for the evening.
When Ingrid arrived, you greeted her with a warm hug. “I’m so glad you’re here,” you said, your voice filled with anticipation.
“Me too,” Ingrid replied with a gentle smile. “I’ve been looking forward to this.”
As the night unfolded, you both settled on the couch, choosing a film and making popcorn. Ingrid was her usual charming self, and her laughter filled the room as you joked and chatted about the movie.
At one point, as you sat close together, Ingrid’s hand brushed against yours. You felt a flutter in your chest, and she looked at you with a soft, understanding gaze.
“I hate that this situation with Alexia is causing you so much stress,” Ingrid said quietly, her voice tender. “I don’t want to be the reason for that.”
You squeezed her hand gently, feeling the weight of her words. “It’s not you, Ingrid. It’s the situation... and Alexia. I care about you so much, but it’s becoming really difficult to keep this from her.”
Ingrid’s expression softened with empathy. “Maybe it’s time we talk to her. Together.”
The thought of confronting Alexia was daunting, but there was comfort in the idea of facing it with Ingrid by your side. “I know you’re right,” you said softly. “I just don’t want to lose her... or you.”
Ingrid leaned in, her forehead gently touching yours. “You’re not going to lose me. I promise. We’ll get through this. But we can’t keep pretending this isn’t real. It’s too important.”
Her words, filled with reassurance, were followed by a slow, tender kiss. Her lips were soft and warm against yours, and the kiss seemed to hold all the promises and fears you both shared.
It felt like time had stopped, and for a brief moment, everything else faded away. It was just the two of you, cocooned in your own little world.
When you finally broke the kiss, you both agreed it was time to end the evening and headed to your bedroom.
As you both lay on the bed, you hesitated, unsure whether to cuddle, given it was your first time sleeping together.
But Ingrid looked at you with a loving, inviting smile and opened her arms. “Come here,” she said softly.
You smiled and settled into her embrace, your head resting gently on her chest. Ingrid’s arm wrapped around you, pulling you close, and her fingers began to softly caress your hair.
The tender touch was incredibly soothing, and you felt your body relax completely.
You fought against the pull of sleep, not wanting to fall asleep before Ingrid. She sensed your struggle and whispered, “It’s okay, baby. Go to sleep. I’m right here.”
Her voice was soothing, and she placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. You let yourself drift off, comforted by her warmth and presence.
Ingrid fell asleep a few minutes later, her breathing steady and calm underneath you.
The night unfolded serenely. You lay slightly turned away, with Ingrid nestled close behind you, her arm wrapped gently around your waist and her head resting in the nape of your neck. The room was calm, the only sound being the soothing rhythm of your breaths intertwining.
Suddenly, you were abruptly awakened by a loud voice that broke the peaceful silence.
“Qué coño está pasando aqui?!” (What the fuck is happening here)
———————-
For the people who wanted to be tagged:
@marvelwomen-simp @wososapologist @multifandomlesbianic
504 notes · View notes
norrizzandpia · 7 months
Note
Heyy, hope you’re having a good day.
Don’t know if your requests are open but I really wanted to ask something. Could you write Oscar with baby fever, but like a lot, to the point that Lando knows about it and makes fun of him, and he is always trying to convince reader that they are ready to have a baby and how he would love to see her pregnant and obviously showing all the time vídeos o cute babies. Then to make it a little longer you could make some embarrassing moment of this baby fever, like Oscar getting flustered (or more lol) when seeing reader with a baby or like zac listening him saying some weird stuff, something like that yk. Then after months she accept. (If you are felling writing a little angst, you could write in the same one or another part, they trying to get pregnant but they can’t and Oscar gets very frustrated and ends up venting with Lando or so and little time later they discovered she is pregnant just to end in a cute way).
If you like the idea and decide to write it, feel free to make any changes you desire, I love your writing and I’m sure you’ll make my idea a thousand time better. Thank you <3
It is CRIMINAL how long it took me to answer this superb request.
Let’s Have A Baby, Baby (OP81)
Summary: There is nothing Oscar wants more than for Y/n to get pregnant with his kid, and everyone knows it.
Warnings: sexual conversations, language, Oscar has no filter at all, an extremely graphic and sexual conversation that has Zak traumatized (pray for him), tooth rotting fluff idk where any of this came from
Note: i didn’t put any angst in this because THIS WAS TOO CUTE TO ADD ANYTHING BAD THIS COUPLE DESERVES EVERY BIT OF HAPPINESS AND MORE WITHOUT ANY COMPLICATIONS I MEAN IT.
How do you tell someone having a child at the ripe age of 22 is not a good idea?
Y/n sat at the end of the bed, watching Oscar pace back and forth as he rambled about how much he wanted to get her pregnant.
“Baby, you’d look so pretty. Please? You know how good the sex would be.” He turned toward her, eyes holding hers as he looked at her with his persuasive doe eyes.
Y/n groaned as her head fell back, “Osc, the sex is already good. Why do we need to add a child to the mix?”
Oscar fell to the floor, kneeling in front of her with his hands resting on her knees as he tilted his head, “Because it’ll be fun! And you could dress them up in little clothes and…” He trailed off, his eyes shifting toward the floor before meeting hers once more, “We’d be a family.”
Y/n’s lip pouted out, emotions running strong in her body as her boyfriend held her hands so tightly, “Oscar,” She rubbed lightly over his cheekbone, “I would love to be a family with you, make a family with you, but I just don’t think I’m ready for that right now. Your career is just taking off and I’ve just barely started to figure out what I want to do with the degree I just earned. It’s not the right time.”
Oscar sighed, head lulling forward and into her lap, “Fine. I guess you’re right.”
Y/n smiled softly and folded forward, planting a kiss into his hair as she scratched at his scalp. “This doesn’t mean I don’t ever want kids, you know?”
He gave a small smile into her lap before looking up at her, “I know. I think I’m just a bit crazed with baby fever right now. You’re right. It’s not a good time to have a whole ass kid now.”
Y/n giggled, “Glad we’re on the same page.”
Oscar stood up, moving to sit beside her on the bed. His arm hooked around her waist, pulling her into him and kissing her hair quickly as he murmured, “I still think you’d look good pregnant. With my kid, to be precise.”
“Y/n, are you seeing this?!” Oscar exclaimed as he shoved his phone in his girlfriend’s face. The TikTok he was showing her was of a little girl giggling continuously as, from what Y/n could gather, the child’s father tickled her stomach.
She blushed, “Yes, very cute, baby.”
Oscar rolled his eyes, “Exactly. Baby. I want a baby.”
“Mate…” Lando said with exhaustion, his head lulling back onto the couch he was sprawled out on. The McLaren crew members off to the side, getting coffees from the hospitality center, snickered.
Oscar’s head snapped to his teammate, “What? You’re just jealous you don’t have a girlfriend to have a kid with.”
“Oscar!” Y/n yelled, hitting his arm as a warning while Lando just keeled over in laughter.
His face was red as he got out, “Oscah! Who taught you to talk like that?!”
Oscar just smiled, “You.”
Lando leaned back, gasping for breath as he came down, “Does that mean I can be its uncle?”
Oscar shook his head, “I’m thinking godfather.”
Y/n scoffed, “We are not having a child! Stop dreaming of something that is not going to be happening for a few more years.”
Oscar shot her a quick glance with a grin, “Just wait till I give you a preview of what having a kid could let us do and I’m sure your mind will change.”
Lando’s mouth fell open, “I need to be removed from the country after hearing that come out of your mouth.”
“Oscar, there is something mentally wrong with you.” Y/n hit his arm once more, shooting him a warning look.
He sidled up to her, “Think a baby could fix that?”
Y/n groaned and Lando laughed, “OSCAR!”
“Y/n! Oscar! Do you guys think you could watch Mila while Sav, Ollie, and I all go for a walk on the paddock?” Lando asked hesitantly, eyeing Oscar with his niece in his arms.
From the way they were staring at each other, Y/n knew Oscar had put Lando up to this. Nonetheless, she smiled, “Sure!”
Oscar beamed.
Y/n took Mila from Lando’s arms, turning to Oscar as Mila stared after her uncle as he walked away. A shy child, Y/n knew Mila would do well with a bit of childish conversation.
“Mila, who’s your favorite? Uncle Lala or Oscar?” Y/n smiled, pinching Mila’s cheeks to draw a few giggles from the little girl.
Mila squealed, “Uncle Lala!! Lala!”
Y/n’s heart warmed at the way the cute child screaming the sweetest nickname. Oscar looked down at his girlfriend and, in his delusions, their child.
He cocked his head, “You fall into the role quite well.”
His comment went ignored by his girlfriend as she continued poking Mila lightly, laughing along with the young girl as her head fell into Y/n’s chest from the tickling.
Y/n smiled up at him before turning around, wandering off into the McLaren garage with Mila still tucked under her arm. Oscar wished he could take a picture. Save it for later. He loved everything before his eyes.
When he was done getting lost in fairy land, he jogged in the direction his girlfriend had taken. What he found was a sight so dear to his heart. Y/n in conversation with Mark, a sleeping Mila in her arms. Part of the reason why he loved the image so much was how comfortable Y/n looked, how Mila laid against her body so easily and how Y/n swayed as if it was second nature.
He wished she could see what he saw.
Mark nodded at him as he came to stand next to Y/n, pulling her into him by the waist and trying to decipher the topic of conversation. “You’re talking about Otmar leaving Alpine?”
“Yeah, good riddance.” Y/n sighed, hand rubbing up and down Mila’s back.
Oscar squeezed her hip softly, “I want to leave that man in my past.”
Mark rolled his eyes, “Don’t we all.”
“There isn’t any corner of the world he could be that is too far from us.” Oscar murmured, face grimacing at the thought of the horrid man.
Y/n laughed and kissed his shoulder, “It’s okay, Osc. You don’t have to deal with him anymore.”
Mark nodded along, eyes entranced with the picture in front of him. He knew Oscar yearned for kid with Y/n, but it had never looked so real before. The boy he had watched grow up, helped fight for, had all of a sudden grown into a man who pushed for children with his girlfriend. Mark knew Oscar was still young, too young for kids, but it still felt a bit odd to see him as someone’s father. It was sobering to see Oscar, his girlfriend, and a child all at once, in a position that made them look like a family. Truthfully, a part of him felt at peace to know the war was over. Oscar had found a seat, a team that prioritized him, and a person who loved him wholly. There was no need to worry about Oscar anymore. What was he to do now?
“Can I take a picture of you two really quick?” Mark asked, a question so surprising Oscar and Y/n shared a strange look.
“Sure?” Y/n said, not fully understanding the reason behind his request.
Mark moved back an inch, position his camera as Y/n and Oscar smiled. Y/n leaned her head against his shoulder while Mila stayed in her arms, still asleep against her body. He turned his camera around to show the couple what he had just captured and Y/n’s heart squeezed. Oscar almost screamed and ripped his hair out. He wanted what this picture implied so badly. With her.
He kept his composure, “We look cute, no?”
Y/n hesitated, a lingering grin on her face as she stared down at the image. Though, her smile lengthened and she tilted her head, “Can you send that to me?”
Oscar was in rare form. From the moment he had woken up, he was making suggestive comments in Y/n’s ear. To put it shortly, he was horny for the woman by his side. When Oscar got like this, he became impulsive and threw caution to the wind. Therefore, Y/n wasn’t surprised when he started rambling to her in the middle of the McLaren garage.
“All I’m saying is that you would look damn good carrying my kid.” He giggled, hand dangerously low on her back.
“Oscar…” She whispered, eyes darting around them in an effort to show him how public he was making their conversation.
He shook his head, “No one can hear what I’m saying. They’re too wrapped up in their work. They don’t know that I’m telling you how good it would feel to fuck you raw.”
She blushed, “Oscar,” She tried once more, though her voice was beginning to lose his edge.
His hand brushed her hair out of the way, leaning down to whisper in her ear, “Do you like that idea? Like the thought of me coming inside of you? Like the thought of everyone knowing you’re mine because you’re carrying my child?”
Her hand brushed up against his abs as she turned to look at him, his eyes boring down into hers. “Oscar, you are working.”
“So? We can go try for one right now, love. Just say the word.”
She tried to hold her composure, “Oscar, you are so bold.”
He kissed her softly, “Yeah? Or am I just attracted to the idea of seeing my cum leak out of you? I’d fuck it back into you with my fingers. Make sure it takes.”
Y/n rolled her eyes, but her insides clenched together.
He tried once more, “I can tell you want it. I can feel your skin getting hotter under my hands,” He brushed his fingers against the skin peeking out from her crop top, “I could be feeling you cum around my bare cock too.”
She opened her mouth to respond, but a loud throat clearing stopped her.
Oscar froze, Y/n paled.
The couple turned their heads slowly behind them, Zak side glancing them from his place inches away from them. Oscar opened his mouth to apologize, but Zak put up his hand.
“I never want to talk about this ever again.” He said, his voice so sharp it could cut ice.
Oscar’s hand flew to his mouth, “Zak, I’m so incredibly sorry. That wasn’t meant to be hear-”
Zak shook his head, “Oscar, I don’t care what the hell you do on your free time. Hell! I think it’s endearing how much you want to have kids with your girlfriend. But, I swear to God,” His eyes closed as he took a deep breath, “If I have to hear you talk about doing anything physical with your girlfriend, I will give you a bad car.”
Oscar nodded shortly, “Understood. I’m so sorry.”
Zak grimaced and shivered before giving the couple one last glance. A whisper loud enough for them to hear, “I’m so unsettled.”
Oscar turned back to his girlfriend. The woman so horrified, she refused to look at him.
He tilted his head, “It’s not that bad?”
Y/n snapped her head up at him. Her gaze fiery, it turned Oscar on. “You will never speak to me when we are near Zak, yeah?”
She walked away before he could respond.
“Y/n, that’s insane!” He screamed as he ran after her.
Lando chuckled to himself at the scene. Not knowing what Oscar had said, but inferring from the way Zak stared at a trash can like he was five seconds from vomiting into it.
Oscar stared down at Y/n as they laid in bed together, post-sex haze slowly depleting. His hand pushed tangled hair out of her face as he laid small kisses on her face, “I love you,” He whispered.
She smiled softly, “I love you too.”
From the way his eyes softened, Y/n’s being found peace. When she was younger, she had been so convinced she would never find love, never find a man who wanted to love her. Part of her wished she could go back in time and show her 16 year old self a picture of Oscar, detailing the man she would later find. Even though they fought and he got her so annoyed sometimes, he would always live to show her that what she had thought was unrealistic in love, was completely attainable. She had loved romcoms, yearning for that kind of feeling for someone else, but she was always lectured on how impossible that was. Oscar was the living counter argument to that statement. From the way he looked at her to the delicate nature of how he held her hand, she was secure in his love for her. A child was a lot, but a child was also a statement of forever. She wanted forever with Oscar, he did too. She wanted to share something so intimate with him beyond sex and vulnerability.
She wanted a kid with him.
In the silence of the night, she lightly spoke the words, “I think I’m ready for a baby.”
A year later and the sentence finally met his ears. Oscar stared at the wall behind her for a moment before letting his gaze fall to her.
“What?” Is all he could find within himself. The woman and the words of his dreams, finally a reality.
She giggled, “I’m ready to try for kids, Osc.”
His hands flew to cradle her face. He shook her head lightly as tears flooded his vision. His voice broke, “What?”
He couldn’t begin to muster another syllable, the staring was all his body could take. He wanted to memorize the twinkle in her eye as she completed his world. He wanted to think back on this moment and remember the way her hand felt against his rapidly beating heart, the way his hands got lost in her hair, the smell of her faded perfume, and the sincerity in her words.
He kissed her lips, soft and gentle as tears fell from his eyes. When they pulled back, she laughed and wiped the wetness on his cheeks, “Why are you crying, baby?”
His mouth opened and closed before speaking, “Because we’re having a kid… and I’ve found you, found the person I know the rest of my life was meant to be shared with. I think I’m just…” He trailed off, trying to find his words amongst all the things swirling around in his body, “I always knew I would be proud of myself if I got into F1, achieved a seat in the sport. I thought that would be the greatest achievement of my life, the most proud I would’ve ever been of myself. But, that’s not true because, in this moment, I am so much more proud of myself for being worthy enough of you and having a kid with you than getting a seat in Formula 1. I never thought about who I would settle down with, but now that I know it’s you, I can’t believe it was ever something that wasn’t on my mind. You are everything I ever think about. The life awaiting us and whatever tries to ruin our plans, I want it all. You are the beginning and end of my life.”
Y/n’s eyes were teary by the end of his confession, feeling as if she was drowning in the love of the moment.
When they kissed again, it felt more solidifying. Solidifying in that tomorrow, when they were filled with energy again, they would try for a baby. Solidifying that sometime, whether that was five years in the future or next week, a positive pregnancy test would sit brightly on the counter of their bathroom, affirming the forever they already knew was in store.
(ONE MONTH LATER)
How do you tell someone they’re 23 and going to be a dad?
Y/n snuck through the McLaren building at the Australian Grand Prix. Lando was in tow behind her as well as Mark and Oscar’s family, all eight of them tiptoeing toward Oscar’s room with large smiles.
Y/n clutched the pregnancy test in her hands, palms sweating heavily moments before she presented Oscar with news that would send him into sobs. No doubt.
“That one,” Lando whispered, pointing toward a black door at the end of the hallway. When they reached it, Y/n turned back.
“Who’s recording?” She asked quietly as Mark smiled and shoved his phone out in front of him.
Y/n giggled, “Screenager,” before sending him a playful glance, her teasing out of love.
With another look to the group, her knuckles rapped on the door.
“One sec!” Oscar’s voice yelled, a few moments passing before he was flinging the door open with a smile. That smile, however, soon fell slightly at the sight of everyone he ever loved standing before him.
“Oh, no. What have I done?” He asked, face dropping as he made eye contact with his beaming mother. “What’s going on?” He asked, slightly confused at the manic faces of his family and closet friend.
“Oscar,” Y/n whispered, his attention drawing to her immediately.
His head cocked to the side, “Baby, what’s going on?”
Y/n smiled, “A baby.”
His confusion grew, “What do you mean ‘a baby’?”
“Oscar…” She said once more, hands shifting in their grasp.
In the tone of her voice, he found happiness.
“No,” He whispered.
Her hands came to rest between their bodies, the pregnancy test on clear display, “Yes,”
A very concerning scream erupted from Oscar before be flung himself into the arms of his girlfriend and, therefore, everyone behind her. There was loud squeals and laughter before Oscar pulled back.
“THERE’S GOING TO BE A BABY?!” He screamed, the volume bouncing off the walls and most likely down to the garage.
Y/n nodded, “OUR BABY!”
Another scream that Lando would have to make fun of Oscar for later. The couple hugged each other tightly, jumping and down in the most giddy way. Truly embarrassing for Oscar, according to Lando, but the Brit also knew how much his friend had pleaded for this.
It was clear in the way he choked back tears; clear in the way he held Y/n; clear in the way he stuffed the pregnancy test into his pocket, mumbling to himself about wanting to put it in a scrapbook for their first child.
Maybe the moment could have been left to just Oscar and Y/n, but, as they all conversed excitedly about nine months in the future, Oscar found everything he ever needed.
Formula 1 was a bonus.
This was his dream.
Y/n and Baby 1 were his drea-
Y/n and Baby 1 were his reality.
2K notes · View notes
onlymingyus · 3 months
Text
Somebody [SVTHUB world tour collab] (teaser)
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pairing; choi seungcheol x f!reader
genre; smut (minor dni), fluff, angst, romance, fake dating au
summary; When you need someone to help you out of a bind quickly, you pick the first person you see to be your “boyfriend”, you just didn’t expect it to be your single hot dad neighbor, Choi Seungcheol…
content warnings; single father!seungcheol, teacher!reader, seungcheol has a child (obviously), eating/drinking, jeonghan/joshua (implied relationship but not stated), betting metioned, alcohol, medical field - doctor!seungcheol, doctor!joshua, mentions cheating in past relationship, mentions death/accident of spouse - widow!seungcheol --- i am sure there are more, if there is anything important you want me to add let me know
smut warnings; unprotected sex (birth control mentioned), creampie, fingering, oral (f receiving), begging, crying (pleasure), multiple orgasm, lots of pet names, marriage kink, seungcheol carries the reader and is larger than the reader, manhandling, shower sex...again if I miss something let me know.
w/c; 25.2k and some change (623 extra words for patreon bonus) [1.1k this teaser]
svthub world tour masterlist
a/n; thank you to my @junkissed for proofreading for me once again, i love you so so much. i really hope you guys enjoy my little addition to the svthub world tour and those on tumblr will join me in Barcelona for the bonus 💕
this fic will be released 7/15 at 3 pm est to read it now subscribe to my patreon and click here
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Forcing a smile on your face after a long day, you stand up as the bell rings and parents start to move into the room to collect their children. Taking your time, you note each one, telling them to have a good evening and that you will see them in the morning. 
It wasn’t that you hadn’t enjoyed your day, but you could feel a headache behind your eyes and fifteen screaming five year olds was a lot for anyone. So as the numbers started to dwindle, you could feel the anxiety starting to fade from you. 
“Hey, buddy!” 
Glancing up as Matthew squeals happily, you watch him run towards a slender but fit man that you vaguely recognize. Perhaps he had been on Seungcheol’s walls in one of the pictures, but you didn’t have a name to put—
“Uncle Jeonghan!”
Ah, so this was Uncle Jeonghan that Matthew talked about so much. Picking up your clipboard, you furrow your brows, moving over to him and the man as you quickly make sure the man’s name is listed as someone authorized to pick up. 
“Have a good day? This must be Miss Y/N that your daddy talks about all the time.” 
Lifting your head from the clipboard, you meet the man’s eyes as your cheeks start to burn. Opening your mouth, you close it quickly as he smirks at you and ruffles the boy's head as he clings close to him. 
“I—Yoon Jeonghan? If you could just sign for Matthew, since you're not his legal guardian and only listed as an authorized person, it’s policy.” 
Taking the clipboard from you, Jeonghan grins as you seem to shy away at his words. He could see the appeal. You were beautiful and seemed responsible. You were exactly Seungcheol’s type. 
“No problem; Y/N. Cheol had to work in the ER today so here I am to save the day. I honestly don’t know why he didn’t just ask you to bring him home.” 
Scoffing in surprise, you watch as Matthew gasps and looks up at you like a new toy. 
“That’d be so cool! Miss Y/N, can you one day? I can show you my toys.” 
Not wanting to disappoint the boy, you give him a strained smile and meet Jeonghan’s eyes, realizing he was an enabler. Seungcheol should have warned you about him, but maybe he didn’t even realize how your first meeting with him would go. 
“Maybe… I’m your teacher, Matthew. We play at school—” 
“Well and his neighbor and his daddy’s girl—” 
Shaking your head, you watch as Jeonghan bites his lip to stifle a laugh before nodding and holding up his free hand as a way of surrendering. Apparently Seungcheol had shared some details of your “relationship” with his friend. You wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out, but you had a feeling this man was the type to pull you out and back into the spotlight. 
“Maybe one day, Matthew... but let’s not get our hopes up.” 
Pouting up at you, Matthew just nods and moves away from you both to go get his things. Letting out a breath, you take back your clipboard and put it down on a shelf behind you as you and Jeonghan glance towards the small boy as he pulls on his jacket. 
“He’d let you take him home.” 
Furrowing your brows, you glance over at Jeonghan and shift on your feet at his words and the implication behind them. Noticing how you seem to nervously shift from foot to foot, Jeonghan smirks and glances down at his phone in his hand, answering a text from Seungcheol as he speaks to you. 
“One day he’ll man up and ask you out for real. This fake dating shit—” 
“Don’t curse in my classroom, please.” 
A laugh slips from between his lips as he glances up from his phone to offer you an apologetic smile before nodding and continuing. 
“Sure, sorry. As I was saying, this fake dating nonsense you two have going on right now isn't going to work. I can already tell you like him.” 
Insufferable. That's how you’d describe Yoon Jeonghan. You had known him for less than ten minutes and already you knew he was going to be an issue in your life. Crossing your arms, you start to sigh into your words, a dramatic big breath, when Alex’s voice once again ruins your moment. 
“Matt, buddy, let me help.” 
Jeonghan watches as your head moves like prey sensing a predator towards the other teacher, who was now helping Matthew with his bag. His eyes move to his godson’s face as he grimaces as the man tugs on the straps, keeping them tight on his arms. 
“He’s fine, Mr. Alex. Thank you.” 
You still sounded like yourself, with that sweet tone to your voice, but even Jeonghan could hear the hint of malice behind it. So this was Alex, and now Alex thought it was okay to mess with Seungcheol’s son. The “fake” dating made sense. This man did not understand boundaries and used everything in front of him as an open door. 
Stepping in front of Alex, you smile at Matthew and the smile transfers to the boy’s face. Jeonghan feels relief wash over him at the sight as you kneel down, adjust the straps back to where they were and then tie his shoe properly. 
“I was just helping out a student, Miss Y/N.” 
Oof… There was so much tension in this room that even Jeonghan felt like he was going to drown in it. Stepping forward, he clears his throat and offers his hand towards Matthew, letting him take his fingers. 
“And while I’m sure she appreciates that, and the parents do... I don’t know you, Mr. Alex, was it? From where I was standing, some strange man was touching my godson, which honestly made me nervous for a moment. I’d be more careful; this isn’t your classroom.” 
Standing up, you feel your cheeks burn under Alex’s eyes as he looks to you to defend him, but you don’t. Jeonghan had a point. Not every parent or guardian knew who all the teachers were, not even the students knew the other teachers. Simple acts could be misunderstood and while he was doing something to “be nice” and it was innocent, you knew there was another reason he was inserting himself into your and Matthew’s lives. 
“Well, I do apologize for the misunderstanding. My classroom is right down the hall. I was just coming to see Miss Y/N. We are very close.” 
Jeonghan just smirks at the man and shoots you a glance before looking at his phone and seeing a reply from Seungcheol. 
“I’m sure you are.” Dismissing the man, he looks at you and smiles brightly. “Y/N, dear… Cheol asked me if you wouldn’t mind helping me with Matthew once you get home? I’m an awful cook.” 
Opening his mouth to say something, Alex stops when Matthew squeals with delight and grabs at your shirt, begging you to come over. 
Another point to you and Seungcheol. 
READ THE FULL FIC NOW ON PATREON
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patscorner · 4 months
Note
Kk or Emily defending her girlfriend from toxic fans?
Maybe on live or in person
on it!
I'M ALL YOURS
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Summary: After an amazing game, you, your girlfriend, and the team go out to celebrate. But, it doesn’t go as you wished.
wc: 1,479
contains: slight angst, fluff
______________________________
“Careful, ma, that’s shot number 3.” Emily informs you, her hand squeezing your thigh. You roll your eyes, before putting your hand on top of hers.
“Relax, baby, we’re celebrating! You should have another.” you smile.
The Mystics had just beat New York Liberty in a double overtime, so obviously, the team went out to celebrate their win. The game was close, the Mystics only winning by a half court buzzer beater from Brittney Sykes.
So after all the press and interviews, the team made their way to a nearby bar. “I would, but one of us has to be sober.” She laughs, sipping her drink. You shake your head and sip your drink as well. After having a conversation with your girlfriend for a while, you decide that you want to dance, so you drag Emily off of her stool and onto the dance floor.
It’s not super crowded, but there were enough people to where you were always shoulder-to-shoulder with someone. You and Emily dance to the music, her hands on your waist as you let the alcohol take over. Eventually, you get tired, and Emily guides your unsteady body back over to the bar, asking the bartender to give you some water.
As you chug the water, a girl comes up to Emily.
“Hi! Are you Emily Engstler?” she asks excitedly. Emily smiles at her, and nods.
“Oh my god. Okay, can I please get a picture, I literally love you so much.” You’re no stranger to people asking for a picture with Emily, because well, she is a basketball star. So, at first this interaction is normal, and you see no reason to intervene. Until the girl offers to buy Emily a drink.
“I mean, if you want to, of course.” The girl says when she notices Emily’s hesitance. You’re listening now, awaiting Emily’s response.
“Uh, no, thank you. I’ve got a girlfriend.” Emily said, motioning to you with her head. The girl looked around Emily and you waved. She frowned, looking back at Emily.
“Her?” she asked with her eyebrows raised. Emily furrows her eyebrows, looking back at you, and you’ve glaring at the girl with a stare that could kill her.
“Yes, me. Is there a fucking problem?” you ask, standing up off of your stool, causing Emily to look at you worriedly.
The girl scoffs, looking at you up and down, seemingly amused by your size. You're on the shorter side, and not the buffest person on earth, but you had a mouth and a temper. “No, babe, I just thought Emily here would have better taste, but-” She looks at you up and down again. “I guess I was wrong.”
Emily stands up now, before you can react. She knew you could hold your ground but she did not want to wait until you had to. She’d rather shut it down now, and avoid the press and interviews.
“I think it’s best if you walk away. “ She spoke at the girl, her voice flat, lacking any sympathy. She hated having to be mean to fans except for when they openly disrespect her girl. The girl scoffs, and makes one big mistake.
“Ugh, I should’ve known. All you basketball players are fucking assholes. You guys aren’t even that good of a team. I hope you tear your ACL or some shit.” she then turns to you. “And you. I want you to know that pretty doesn’t know your fucking name. Your main concern should be someone trying to steal the beautiful, but unfortunate bitch you call your girlfriend. Maybe instead of being jealous when someone offers to buy your girl a drink, be flattered, and maybe attempt to live through her, because you sure as hell won’t have to worry about it.”
And with that she turned around and stormed out of the party. Emily starts after her, but you grab her arm, and she looks down at you. “Don’t. Don’t worry about it.”
“But, baby, she-”
“I know.” you say, sadness lingering in your voice. Maybe it was the alcohol, but for some reason, that girl’s rant got to you more than it should’ve. While you know most of it was jealousy and embarrassment on her end, you couldn’t help but doubt yourself. Was she right? Were you not good enough for Emily, like she implied?
“Just-let it go.” you smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes, and Emily noticed. You felt your skin grow hot, and an ache behind your eyes. You clear your throat. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom. Be right back.”
“Ma-” Emily starts to follow you, but you stop her.
“I just need a minute, Emily. I’ll be right back.” She stops in her tracks and opens her mouth to speak. “Okay. I love you.” she whispers quietly, but loud enough for you to hear over the music. “I love you too.”
You turn around and head to the bathroom. It quickly became your place of solitude as you broke in tears. You don’t know why you were crying, possibly the initial shock of it all wearing off. Or maybe because deep down, you had your own insecurities about yourself, and how you were seen by the public. It shouldn’t matter or affect you, but it does.
Emily had made sure she kept you off of social media, or at least that side of it, knowing how toxic it could be. But that doesn’t matter if the fans came up to you in real life, like tonight.
You hear someone knock on the door, and decide it was time to fix yourself up. “Be out soon!” you call out. After you wipe away your runny mascara, you fix your hair, (that was messed up from you running your hand through it), you open the door.
On the other side is Shakira and Didi, who noticed your botched makeup and disheveled hair. “Hi- oh, shit, are you okay?” You nod unconvincingly, before pushing past them. The girls share an unconvinced look, and turn around to watch you leave the bar.
You don’t know how long you’ve been outside, but you do know you’ve been through 4 cigarettes. You’ve been sitting in silence for a while, letting your thoughts consume you. You don’t even notice when Emily comes and sits down next to you. You only make notice of her when she takes the cigarette from your mouth.
You don’t look at her, but you hear her shoe stomp it out on the cement. She scoots closer to you but doesn’t touch you. She knows how fragile you are, and how you hate crying in public, so she opted out of being the bend that breaks the camera’s back.
“You know she’s wrong, right.” she finally speaks, softly.
You don’t acknowledge her, just continue staring at the passing cars. You hear her, but you don’t have the energy to speak.
“Right?” she whispers. The softness of her voice isn’t something that’s uncommon for you, but to everyone else, it’d seem unusual. But Emily was comfortable enough around you to let her guard down. She was a big softie.
You let your head hang as you feel the tears start to fall from your eyes. Emily gives in and reaches for your hand.
“No one means more to me than you do. You are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid eyes on.” Emily sighs as you remain silent. “Look at me.”
When you don’t answer, she gently grabs your chin and forces your eyes on hers. You sniffle and close your eyes as tears fall down your face.
“Oh, baby.” she whispers, cupping your face and using her thumbs to wipe your tears. Finally, you let a broken sob escape your throat.
Emily pulls you into a hug, shushing you as you break down in her arms. “Shh, ma, I know. I know. It’s okay.” she rubs her hands up and down your back. “You can’t let ‘em get to you, baby. There’s always gonna be someone that has some shit to say.”
She pulls away, and wipes your cheeks once again. “And as for me, I’m not going anywhere. I’m all yours, and you’re mine. Nothing anyone says is gonna change that. Understand?”
You nod and she pulls you into a soft loving kiss. “Can we go home, please?” you whisper as you pull away. Emily smiles sadly and nods.
After that night, Emily posted on her story, calling out the girl who approached her that night (who you later find out has done the same thing with a lot of other teams).
Even though you have your doubts about yourself, there’s no doubt in your mind that Emily loves you. No matter what anyone else says, she’d love you regardless. No amount of stuck up bitches would change that.
She was yours, and you were hers.
______________________________
taglist: @bueckerslover @wintersstan @lilia22hicks @fake-intelligences @breeloveschris
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beomcoups · 4 months
Text
F.U.C.K.
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𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: ex!bf Seungcheol x fem!reader
𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, smut, small fluff, lovers to exes au, 18+
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 3.1k
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You've been on and off forever and you couldn't leave him alone if you tried. You have an itch only Seungcheol can scratch.
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex, oral, missionary, riding, praise, dirty talk, creampie, clit stim, multiple orgasms, a bit of overstimulation, Coups is a lover boi, angsty feelings about the relationship
𝐀𝐍: Thank youuuuu @hobeemin & @wongyuseokie for reading this for me and Beezy you are the best hype woman ever <3. Also thank you @aaagustd for making this sexy ass banner 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: 💿 F.U.C.K- Victoria Monet, Dirty Dancer- Orion Sun, Idea 686- Jayla Darden, Strings- iyla, Behind- Woodz, Forgive Me- Chloe x Halle, Art- Tyla, I Could Imagine- Alina Baraz, Good& Plenty- Alex Isley, Masego and Jack Dine, Skin Tight- Ravyn Lenae Steve Lacy, Idea 683- Jayla Darden, Body and Soul- Emotional Oranges and Biig Piig, Butterflies- Tyla, Between Us- Alina Baraz, Nasty- Tinashe, Under The Moon - Alex Isley, Jack Dine (spotify)
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It’s complicated. Your Facebook relationship status has been that way for over a year. If someone asked, you wouldn’t know how to define your relationship with Seungcheol. You can’t say you’re just friends when the love is still there, but you can’t stay together longer to just work. Something happens, and you argue and split up. Months, sometimes years, can go by, and you feel like you’ve finally moved on, but all he has to do is call, or you have an itch that needs scratching, and there he is, ready to make it go away.
He stands there in front of you, his dark hair clipped and trimmed perfectly, highlighting the handsome features on his face: his dark, round eyes, high cheekbones, and plump pink lips. He comes dressed in a simple white tee and sweats, with an overnight bag in hand, as he knows he is staying the night. Seungcheol smirked as he walked in, placing a small kiss on your temple. 
“Well, hello to you too,” you say, shutting the door behind you. You watch him take off his shoes, walk into your living room, and admire the view of the city through your picture windows. You just moved into your high-rise condo a couple of months ago, and your job promotion allows you to level up in life and enjoy nice things for once. Your place looks straight out of a movie, with your tastes added. Your favorite color is blue, and you included it in your decor. 
“You kept the couch?” Seungcheol points at the royal blue sectional sofa with matching gold-trimmed throw pillows you bought from your favorite thrift store. “Yes,” you say proudly. “That couch is my pride and joy. We’ve been through a lot together.” Memories about the many times you spent together on the couch, clothed and unclothed, cloud your mind. He chuckles as you sashay to the kitchen, grabbing a bottled water. You offer him one, and he shakes his head, returning his attention to the city's shining lights. He’s been in your life for five years, meeting at a grocery store with both of your hands on the last bag of cherries. He relented, letting you have them in exchange for your number. You didn’t give it to him, hoping that you would see him again. At the time, you just moved to the city, and if you were meant to meet again, you would give him your number. A couple of weeks later, you did when you went to a birthday dinner with your former roommate. His eyes twinkled when you exchanged glances, and you felt like it was fate.  “You did it,” he felicitates you. “You did everything we talked about doing all those years ago. I’m proud of you.”
You would have late nights with him in your shitty old apartment, eating Chinese takeout in bed and talking about your hopes for the future. Seungcheol wanted to have it all: a nice house, cars, and riches beyond his dreams. All you wanted was a good life. You grew up poor, raised by a single mom who worked two jobs to ensure you had a roof over your head. You understood each other in that way, and it worked between you two for a while… until it didn’t.
“You got your high rise before me,” you appear beside him. “What does it feel like, being the top broker in your firm?”
“It’s nice,” he nods. “It keeps me busy.”
You knew that all too well. One of the reasons you broke up was time. His work felt more important than maintaining a relationship with you. You swear if someone called in the middle of the night, he would answer in a heartbeat. It’s not like you aren’t busy; you work on Wall Street. But you still made time to be with him at all important events and when it mattered most. The energy wasn’t reciprocated.
“I see nothing has changed,” you say, taking a swig of your water.
“Yeah,” he mumbles. “I think I am ready for it, though.”
“Are you now?”
“Yeah. There is no point in having all of this if there is no one to share it with, right?”
You didn’t have to say anything back because he was right. What is the point of working hard, making more money than your parents could ever dream of, traveling, and having life experiences without having someone to share them with? It also incredibly frustrates you. Why did it take five years for him to get to this point? The back and forth, blocking each other on all accounts. Was it worth it?
You two are silent, watching the city lights twinkle in the distance. His fingers slip in between yours, pulling you closer to him. Just being near him makes your heart skip several beats. No one like him can melt you just by his touch and presence. Yes, he can irritate you to no end, but he also makes your soul smile.
“I missed you,” he says, gazing at you. 
“I know.” 
You kiss him, the magic stirring in your chest as he returns your feelings; sparks all around you two like fireworks. Your hands explore him fervently, pulling off his shirt and throwing it on your couch. He unhooks your bra, helping you out of your shirt and exposing your breasts. He bites his lip as he palms his growing bulge, the very thought of his lips all over you making you hot.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispers. 
You take his hand and guide him to your bedroom, climbing over your king-size bed. He follows you closely, his index finger sliding up your thigh. It feels electric, having him touch you again after so long. You have tried moving on, going on dates, and having one-night stands here and there. But deep down, those people weren’t him. Seungcheol knows your body, what makes you tick, your boundaries, and what drives you crazy. It’s exhausting trying to find that chemistry with someone else. Too bad you can’t just make it work. 
He slides your shorts and panties off with one hand, your naked body being illuminated by the moonlight. He notices your sheets, trying to hold it in before succumbing to a belly laugh. 
“Cherry sheets? Really?” He says in between breathes.
“Come on now,” you chuckle. “You know I love my little house on the prairie sheets.” “I swear you were born in the wrong generation,” Seungcheol expresses, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “Yeah, maybe,” you muse over his words. “I’m glad I met you in this lifetime, though.” He admires you, his thumb caressing your cheek before he kisses you again. This time, it’s more heartfelt, your bodies hungry for another as each minute passes. His hand travels down to your inner thighs, spreading your legs apart and slowly entering a digit into your wet core. Seungcheol licks his lips, watching your eyes roll back as you unravel his arms. “Shit,” you moan. “Keep doing it just like that.”
“I’m going to do more than that,” he whispers in your ear. 
Seungcheol was already great with his fingers, slipping one more in you as his tongue played in circles on your neck, your sweet-smelling perfume intoxicating to him. He loves the way your brows furrow when he goes deep, your mind focused on nothing else but cumming all over his hand. You play with your clit, drunk on the pleasure he’s giving you, with your wetness pooling onto your sheets. You two are connected in a way, in your own little bubble surrounded by ecstasy.
“Fuck baby,” you pant as pressure builds up in your stomach. “I’m almost there.” He pulls his fingers out of you quickly, snapping you out of your zone, and you whimper in protest. He aggressively pulls down his pants and briefs, revealing his hardened cock already leaking with precum. He slides down to your entrance, his face nose deep in between your legs before he dives in; his tongue attacks your sweet nectar. Sensational couldn't even begin to describe how you feel. He eats you with an enthusiasm that almost makes you laugh despite the deep pleasure he brings you. “You taste better than I remembered,” he mouths. “Cum for me.”
Your body is at its brink, ready to fall, when Seungcheol slips his fingers in, working together with his tongue to make sure you hit that pool of ecstasy. Your hands grip his hair, and your orgasm hits you like cool water on a warm day. You feel him smirk against your thigh, leaving you with lasting, small kisses before lifting his face and revealing your essence on the lower half. You cover your mouth to hold back your giggles, and he rolls his eyes, leaning over and kissing your lips. “I’m not sorry,” you breathe. “You knew what you were doing.”
“You shouldn’t be,” he smirks. “Especially when I’m going to make you do it again.”
Seungcheol lifts your leg, pulling himself back as he rubs his throbbing dick against your entrance. Your eyes grow wide as he taps your sensitive, swollen clit, a mischievous grin on his face. 
“Don’t worry, baby,” he says as if reading your thoughts. “I’m going to start slow.” “You don’t want me to blo—” you start to protest. “No, I’ve waited long enough,” his deep and velvety voice serves as a warning. FUCK.
He enters you inch by inch, stretching you out the way you like, your fingers already gripping the sheets. You look at him through a hazy daze, his focus on burying himself deep inside of you, bringing you a deep satisfaction. You enjoy watching his Adam’s apple shift when he moans, his voice barely audible while he dives into you. You remember the first time you slept together; he had your legs over his shoulder, fucking you long and deep on top of your blue couch at your old place. You both didn’t intend for it to happen that way; you were caught up in the highs of seeing a band you both enjoy, and one thing led to another. His dick is long with a bit of a curve, fitting perfectly like your pussy was molded and made for him. No one has even come close. 
“Give it to me,” you breathe. “Please, I need you bad.” Seungcheol loves it when you beg for it, and he obliges, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper. Maybe it’s because you love him, but he is the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. The way his hips roll as he snaps into you, watching him come in and out of you with your wetness coating him, turns you on. Your hands grasp his face, your thumb slipping into his mouth as he fucks you silly. You can barely form words in your head, let alone say anything else but “fuck” and “make me cum”. He fucks you in a way that makes you have wet dreams and leaves you with a puddle in your sheets. If he were a Greek god, he would be Eros, the god of love and sex. That’s how bad he has you. “Turn over,” you grit your teeth. You lean up and flip him over, his throbbing cock still inside you as you are on top of him. You let your body take over, riding him while his hands are placed firmly on your breasts. You set the pace, and he follows, a harmonious rhythm between the two of you, your senses heightened to another level. You are on this incredible high, sliding on his shaft while you vigorously play with your clit, ready to cum. “Did you miss this?  He teases you as he grinds harder into you. “Did you miss sitting on this dick until you cum?” You nod fervently, your hand still playing with your clit, and you are ready to explode. 
“Fuck,” he grits his teeth. “I’m close. Let’s come together like we always do.” You erupt, screaming his name while he sloppily pumps into you, his hair sweaty and his succulent lips red from biting. He leans up and kisses you hard, your moans and words of praise swallowed and digested. Whatever you were going to say, he felt it more, your hearts beating in unison powered by your feelings for each other. He talks you through it, helping you come down from your high before he releases his own, spilling into you until he is completely spent. You’ve been on birth control for years, and Seungcheol is the only person you’ve let hit without a condom. It just feels so right with him. You roll off of him, collapsing on your pillow as you try and catch your breath. His breathing is relaxed, and when you gaze at him, his eyes are closed, already half asleep. You attempt to get out of bed, but he grabs your arm, pulling you close to him. 
“Stay,” he kisses your shoulder. “I sleep better when you’re with me.” 
You can’t deny him when he is in this state, pulling on your heartstrings like that. 
“Fine, you win,” you say without much effort. 
Glancing at the time, it’s after 12, and fatigue finally hits you at least. Snuggling into him, you fall into a deep sleep, but not before admitting that you still love him and would do anything for him. 
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The sunlight is not kind as it peers through your windows and wakes you up a little after 9. You had forgotten to draw the curtains before you fell asleep, but you didn’t have much energy left after the night you had. You woke him up after three, sucking his cock until he exploded down your throat, and he returned the favor by eating you out until you were ripe from overstimulation. You made such a mess that you had to change your sheets and listen to him teasing you about your “old lady” sheets. Whatever, you liked them.
You rolled over, and Seungcheol was already awake, scrolling through his phone. He notices you and kisses your forehead before removing your blanket and smacking your ass.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he says, leaning back against the headboard.
You chuckle as you get out of bed, grab your silk robe, and walk into the bathroom. You feel sore; last night’s shenanigans are indeed catching up with you. You just want to lay in bed and relax, but you have this nagging feeling in your stomach. You could brush it off and deal with it later, but knowing you, you will overthink, turning it into something it's not. You have to know how he feels.
Finishing up in the bathroom, you leave to find him setting orange juice on your nightstand with a couple of ibuprofen. He is only dressed in his sweats and nothing underneath, your center aching for him despite the tenderness you feel.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, reading your look. You have never had a good poker face.
You sit down on the bed, take your two pills, and wash them down with orange juice. You allow yourself to get your thoughts in order. You're unsure what to say, but you know the conversation needs to be had.
“What are we doing?” you blurt out. “I love you, and you never stopped loving me. Why can’t we just get it right?”
The silence is too deafening for your liking. It would be like you to tear the band-aid off first thing in the morning. But you hate being in the dark, not knowing what the future will hold. You’re not saying that you have to jump the broom, but you have to know if there’s any chance he feels the same way you do.
“I-I-m sorry,” you shake your head. “I shouldn’t have sprung that on you first thing in the morning. Forget I said anything.” 
You attempt to leave the room before Seungcheol catches your arm and motions for you to sit down. Grudgingly, you do, sitting on your ottoman and facing him. “You didn’t even give me a chance to respond,” he complains. “You can’t always assume how I feel is something bad. Give me a chance.” You nod, knowing deep down he is right. “You are right,” He admits. “I love you, and this song and dance we’ve been doing for years is tired. I came to you last night because I missed you and I need you. You’re the only one in my life who has always kept it straight with me, even when you get on my nerves.” You smirk at his comment, knowing it’s true. “But we have also been apart for a long time, and as much as I want to jump back into our usual routine, I recognize we have grown up a bit and need to get to know each other as our different selves.” You nod slowly, mulling over his words, unsure what to say. “I also don’t want to see anyone else,” he breathes. “You are the only person I want to see, to do this with.” He points at the sheets, and you roll your eyes. It would be like him to somehow bridge it back to sex. 
“So…” your voice trails off. “What are we then? We are more than friends but not together? I don’t understand.” “I want to be with you,” he grabs your hands. “If we fight and storm off to our houses, I’d rather it be that then we break up and don’t talk for months at a time. I hate that.” You nod, finally understanding what he is saying. He is scared of the future, just like you are. But in this life, you would rather go through it with him than anyone else. You have too much time and feelings just to throw it away. “Maybe we can try talking to someone about it this time around?” You say. “A therapist or something? I want to be with you, and maybe working through our issues to understand each other better sometimes is what we need.” “Yeah, I’m open to that.” He hugs you, embracing you tightly before leaving sweet kisses on your face. You are deathly ticklish, and he knows it. He moves his kisses elsewhere until you find yourself in your bed, his body towering over yours. He leaves you one more kiss on your lips before laying his head on your chest. “We’re going to be okay,” he whispers.
You look down and smile, caressing the dark stresses in his hair.
“Yeah. We will be.”
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