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gimmethatagustd · 2 days ago

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paint me naked | jjk

After the mysteriously hot guy in your university class starts taking an interest in you, should you really trust that he’s not like all the other college fuckboys? Especially when his best friend is the guy who broke your heart?

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (past Taehyung)

Rating: Explicit

Genre/Trope: College AU, friends to lovers, fluff, smut, light angst

Word Count: 17,025

Content Warning: Self-esteem issues, alcohol, marijuana (of course, it's a jai fic), brief mention of drug dealing, it's very "hehe I have a crush" y'know, kinda YA of me jshdfks rip, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, cunnilingus, can you tell I was a depressed poetry student in college??

A/N: This ended up being my most popular fic back in the day (lol like a year ago). I'm ngl, I don't think of it as highly as I do the other fics I've written, but this was I think the second fic I ever wrote?? Back in 2022. Crazy times. So y'know, growth and whateva. The funniest part is that probs 85% of this fic literally happened to me sjdfks. Except the "Jungkook" was only my friend and we just got stoned and vibed, and instead of painting a naked woman, one time during our studio sessions he painted an abstract rendition of my "soul" but it really just looked like a thumb I'm ngl. All my friends said he was in love with me cuz who paints portraits of someone's soul??

Soundtrack: Paint Me Naked - Ten

“Jungkook, I don’t think this is gonna work.”

“Let me try.”

Your eyes strained to see the boy standing in front of you, but the room was pitch black. It was good, though. You’d purposefully blocked out as much light as you possibly could. It had been a surprisingly difficult feat, mostly because the two of you hadn’t thought this through very well. A rolled up towel was shoved against the bottom of the bedroom door to keep the light from the hallway out. Blackout curtains had already been drawn over the windows when you got there, so that made the window problem easier. Luckily, you’d remembered to unplug the digital clock sitting on the nightstand next to the bed, the last piece of light you could have some control over putting out.

To make things weirder, you were in Jungkook’s parents’ room.

“It’s the darkest room in the house!” he’d insisted and you hadn’t objected because, well, it seemed on brand for the way the entire night was going.

With arms stretched out, your fingers pressed into something bumpy and hard. You could hear Jungkook’s breathing beside you and a light laugh alerted to you that he was much closer than you’d initially thought. After a quick prod, fingers gliding slightly upward, you realized you were grabbing his abdomen. The hard ripples you’d felt were his toned abs beneath his thin t-shirt.

“Sorry,” you whispered, though there was no need to be quiet. Jungkook’s hands wrapped around yours and took the objects you had clutched between them: scissors and an undeveloped film roll.

Drawing your hands back to your side, you waited in silence. The sound of metal scraping against plastic was the only sound in the room aside from the quiet rustle of wind blowing through leaves outside. You don’t think you’d ever felt silence before until that moment. It was electric, a pulsing sizzle that sparked up your fingertips and jolted into your heart as you stood beside Jungkook. The harmony your breathing had fallen into made the moment feel far more intimate than you’d expected. Why was standing in the dark with someone so intimate?

“Fuck,” Jungkook muttered, and you heard what you imagined was him stabbing the scissors into the film.

“Oh my god, please don’t cut yourself, okay? I don’t know where the hospital is from here.”

His only response was another quiet laugh and you knew from the sound that his nose was doing that scrunched up thing that it always did when he was making fun of you. After only a few months of knowing Jungkook he was certainly very comfortable teasing you. He was pretty comfortable with you in general, you were beginning to realize.

And why were you here? Standing in the dark with a boy you barely knew from a shared university class, one who towered over you in height as well as being much larger than you physically. Trying to pop open film because Jungkook somehow thought you could actually develop this film without having access to a real darkroom. Sure, all throughout high school you’d taken film photography classes. You had the development process memorized by heart, from the length of time the film needed to soak to the different types of chemicals needed and what order you were supposed to submerge the prints in. You’d even emailed your old high school teacher to double check.

But doing all of that in Jungkook’s parents’ house? You knew it wasn’t going to work, but the guy had insisted on you helping him. Was it concerning that he had all these chemicals stored in a plastic tub in his closet? Maybe. And was it the safest decision to use scissors to pop open the film instead of the proper tool (which Jungkook had forgotten to order off of Amazon in advance)? Absolutely not.

On top of that, no one knew where you were; you’d simply told your roommates that you were going to hang out with the guy from your university poetry class.

“Jungkook? The weird one with all the tattoos and piercings?” Your roommate, Amiriah, had asked.

“He’s not that weird.”

“Y/N, he wrote a poem about eating pussy for a class assignment. You said so yourself. Please tell me how that’s a normal thing to do.”

“And didn’t he have to read it outloud to the class because he turned it in late?” Now it was time for Courtney to pipe in from her position lounging on the couch, an episode of Love Connection paused on the TV screen.

“Okay, yes, he did do both those things. But I swear he’s actually really sweet. He’s just misunderstood.”

Courtney had launched a pillow at you, though the object zoomed past your head and landed against the refrigerator, knocking down multiple of Amiriah’s magnets. Much to her dismay.

“Maybe we should take a break.”

Jungkook’s voice brought you back to reality, or at least some semblance of it. You couldn’t understand how someone could have such a soft voice. Listening to Jungkook speak was like floating on a cloud. His cadence was a gentle caress against your skin, a sound that could easily flutter your eyes and lull you to sleep. It didn’t matter what he was saying; everything sounded better coming from Jungkook’s mouth.

You nodded, forgetting that he couldn’t see you. A few moments and a bit of shuffling later, the lights sprung on. Your eyes instantly shut and slowly pried open again from the blaring brightness.

The poor film looked like it had been mauled by a bear, but it was still somehow intact. Jungkook slipped it into his pocket for safekeeping and turned to look at you. He had this thing about eye contact that really made you uncomfortable. When he met your gaze, he looked straight into your eyes, as if he was looking into you rather than at you.

“Do you want a drink?”

His question caught you off guard, but he was already picking up the towel from the floor to open the bedroom door. Without answering, you followed him through the house and into the kitchen. You stood in the doorway, hands clasped in front of you, eyes following his large frame navigating the kitchen cabinets.

“All my parents have is rosé, is that okay?”

He uncorked the chilled bottle and poured each of you a glass. Then he did something that your roommates could add to the list of weird things they’d developed for him.

He sat on the floor.

You stared at him with your lips slightly parted, unsure if you were supposed to follow him. There was an entire kitchen table with multiple chairs. Why was he sitting on the floor with his back leaned against the doorframe? Bottle of rosé sitting on the tile next to him. He looked up at you with impossibly soft doe eyes and you couldn’t just stand there with your glass. So, you slowly sank to the floor, your shoulders brushing against each other as you sat next to him.

“Y’know, I just realized the film you have is color film.” You spoke slowly, hating that you were about to burst his bubble. “You wouldn’t be able to develop it at home, anyway. The chemicals you bought are for black and white film, and color film has to be developed using heat.”

“Damn.” Jungkook tipped his head back to take a very deep drink of his wine.

“We gave a valiant effort, though.” You flashed him a small smile and the grin you got in return made your face grow hot.

Your roommates weren’t really wrong. Jungkook didn’t have the best reputation on your university campus. There were rumors that he sold drugs (marijuana and acid, specifically) and had gang affiliations. He was quiet, kept to himself, and didn’t seem to have a whole lot of friends aside from a few guys who were equally just as questionable. Yes, you knew he’d gotten arrested the day before spring break started for getting into a fight with a guy on campus, but based on what your friends had told you, it was definitely the other guy’s fault.

You’d also heard he had great head game, but that was a whole other thing. You just had a really hard time believing all the bad things people said about him, even when he’d admitted to a lot of the rumors being true.

“A gang tried to recruit me when I was fresh outta high school, but I like selling on my own. Can’t trust people for shit.”

He’d said it so casually, and you wondered what was wrong with you for finding a conversation about dealing drugs attractive.

The thing your roommates, and a lot of other people, didn’t understand was that there was more to Jungkook than whatever dumb rumors got spread around (real or not). He was an exceptional writer. His poetry weaved in elements of hip hop, almost sounding like eloquent and lyrical rap lyrics rather than your typical stuffy poem that other students in your class tried to pass off as profound. He didn’t shy away from writing about mental health, sex, relationships, and loss. Everything he put down was raw, and you liked that it made other people in the class uncomfortable. Jungkook wasn’t afraid to be himself. Wasn’t that what art was supposed to be all about?

And he was artistic in every way. Not only did he write well, but he was obviously into photography, and he also dabbled in multimedia sculpture. But the most impressive was probably his paintings. You’d seen the work he’d posted on Instagram, and during one of your hangouts he’d told you about how he’d been commissioned by the city to work on a public mural with another local artist.

Very few people knew these things about Jungkook. They saw the tattoos, the piercings, the occasional blunt wedged between his lips, and they painted him in a way that was so distorted it annoyed you.

“Thanks for helping me, though. I appreciate you.”

You bit your bottom lip into your mouth to suppress another smile, instead opting to simply nod your head and cover up any expression by taking a drink.

At this point, the two of you had been hanging out at least once a week. Usually you just sat outside on his parents’ front porch and smoked and talked about life. His parents seemed to always be out of town, and although Jungkook lived across the hall from you in the university dorms, he stayed at his parents’ house a lot to take care of their dog.

It felt weird, though, hanging out with Jungkook. It was like all your interactions could only happen during those moments; otherwise, he didn’t talk to you when you saw him around campus. Even in your advanced poetry class, he would lock eyes with you across the room, but he never said a word.

And it didn’t help that he was best friends and roommates with Kim Taehyung, the campus casanova who’d fucked you like you were the only girl in the world for an entire semester until you saw him cuddled up at a party with some other girl who didn’t even go to your university. The next day he was standing at your dorm asking for his skateboard back, weaving some lie about how summer break was the time to be single and have fun, but that he would “never forget” the fun times you’d had.

Then Taehyung got a girlfriend.

So maybe you were a little bit bitter over how things ended with Taehyung (and maybe you’d spent the entire summer crying yourself to sleep at night and aimlessly scrolling through Tinder, looking for anyone who might replace him and finding nothing). But the worst part was knowing that Taehyung had probably talked to Jungkook about you, and you had no idea what he might have said.

“Hopefully the film is still okay,” you said after a moment, trying to pull yourself out of the cyclical negative thoughts you were often consumed by.

You finished your glass, shaking your head at Jungkook’s offer for more rosé. He nodded, pushing himself up to stand and reached out to take your empty glass.

You watched him from the floor as he washed the glasses in the sink. Your eyes lingered just a bit too long on the way his forearm muscles flexed while he cleaned, a few veins popping out along the back of his hands and the inside of his arm. Tattoos and piercings hadn’t ever been your thing, not that you didn’t appreciate the allure of body modifications. You’d just found yourself going after boys who looked polished, good boys to take home to mom. Jungkook had been the one to initiate your friendship, asking to hang out while you worked on your poems or read the many poetry collections due for class. You’d be a liar if you said his sudden interest in you hadn’t sparked your own interest in him.

Just one glass of wine was enough to make you a bit lightheaded, and Jungkook was a heavy pourer, apparently.

“You good?”

You blinked and stared into Jungkook’s face. He was drying off his hands now, watching you with an amused look on his face.

“Umm, yeah. Just a lightweight,” you said with a breathy laugh that sounded a little too forced for your liking. Jungkook didn’t seem to notice.

“You wanna go to my studio with me? The one on campus?”

You looked down at your phone, a few text messages popping up from your roommates demanding to know where you were. Swiping to clear the notifications, you looked up at Jungkook and gave him a small smile.

“Sure.”

“That thing so fire baby, no propane. Got good pussy, girl, can I be frank? To keep it 100, girl, I ain’t no saint.”

Music came blaring out of the car’s speakers at an alarmingly high volume, causing you to exhale a startled shout. Jungkook quickly lunged to turn down the volume and accidentally honked the car’s horn when his shoulder leaned against the steering wheel.

“Shit, sorry.”

“Talk about fucking sensory overload, fuck,” you mumbled, heart still dazed in your chest.

“It was actually nice outside for once. I was whippin’ with the windows down, so the music’s gotta be louder.”

All he was getting from you was rolled eyes and the sound of your seatbelt clicking into place.

Jungkook turned around to look over his shoulder as he backed out of the driveway. He grabbed onto the back of your seat to position himself; once again, you found yourself eyeing his arms, exploring the exposed tattoos. It kind of pissed you off how hot it was when guys drove backwards. What was evolutionarily advantageous about that attraction?

“If you wanna change it, I got a couple CDs.”

Jungkook motioned to the middle console. You flipped through them, finding the album that was currently playing. You’d recognize it anywhere; he was one of your favorite musicians.

“Bryson Tiller?” You turned the CD case over in your hand, eyes scanning the tracklist on the back. “You listen to sex music while you drive? And off a CD instead of Bluetooth, no less?”

Jungkook barked out a laugh, all teeth and crinkled eyes that you could just barely make out as the streetlights streaked over his face.

“Yeah, I guess I do. You got a problem with Bryson?” His fingers lazily tapped against the steering wheel to the relaxed beat of Don’t - which happened to be your favorite song on the album. “This car is twenty-one years old. You’re lucky we’re not sitting here listening to cassettes.”

“Who doesn’t like Bryson Tiller? That’s the baby-making music of our generation,” you said with a laugh. “Honestly, I can’t believe this song came out in fuckin’ 2015. Why does that feel like such a long time ago?”

Jungkook sat in the driver’s seat with his legs spread as much as possible; this position was what had made you realize just how thick and nice his thighs really were. Plus, he drove with one hand on top of the steering wheel, left elbow bent slightly. He usually let his right hand rest against his thigh, though sometimes he held onto the gear shift in between the two of you.

There was rarely any traffic in your college town, and especially not at 10pm on a Tuesday night. The two of you fell silent, Bryson Tiller’s soulful lyrics swirling through the car in the absence of conversation. Jungkook was typically a man of few words. You’d grown accustomed to carrying the conversation. With most people, that would have bothered you, but with Jungkook it was different. You knew he was paying attention when you talked; you could see it in the way the corners of his mouth twitched when you said something dorky (which was, apparently, all the time).

And when he did have something to say, it was always worth the wait.

“You’ve got good taste,” Jungkook said after driving a few blocks. “Guess I should probably add him to my sex playlist.”

Before you had time to process his comment Jungkook was pulling into the east parking lot of your university, the part of campus that was off to the side and only held art-related facilities.

He led you to an unmarked backdoor of the building closest to the parking lot. Pushing the door open, he held it for you with a sweep of his hand.

“Ladies first, noona.”

Scowling at the honorific, you still obliged, entering a long hallway. The walls were bare, just an eggshell white, a few black scuff marks here and there, as if someone had been carrying something large and struggled to fit it through the narrow space. Jungkook maneuvered past you to lead the way to another unmarked door.

The studio was a lot larger than you expected. One side of the room had a large rack of painted canvases to dry. You turned to inspect the left side of the room, finding multiple easels with additional canvases of varying sizes, most blank or seemingly half-finished. A rather worn-looking couch was placed in the middle of the room. Beside it was a coffee table and a Bluetooth speaker. (So Jungkook did know about modern technology.) Paint-covered tarps protected much of the concrete floor, and there were paint buckets and other supplies scattered in every corner. The entire room was pure chaos, but it seemed like there was an organization to it that only Jungkook knew.

“So… yeah. This is my studio.” Jungkook closed the door behind you and locked it.

Your heart skipped a beat at his action, but you swallowed down the spike of fear that had threatened to bubble up inside of you. You’d spent plenty of alone time with Jungkook. There was nothing to worry about.

“I had to practically beg the school to let me have my own space since I’m not an art major, but they eventually let up,” Jungkook continued with a shrug.

You were impressed, honestly. Jungkook wasn’t known for being the most reliable student academically; it was surprising they’d given him such privileges.

“I like it,” you said simply, eyes still roaming the space. You weren’t sure what you were supposed to do now. Studio art wasn’t really your thing, poetry was.

Luckily, Jungkook had a knack for reading your mind.

“You can sit on the couch if you want. I got a project due tomorrow morning, so I’m gonna work on it. But if you wanna paint, just lemme know.” He scrolled through his phone as he spoke, and eventually more R&B music started playing from the speaker.

“Tomorrow morning? JK, it’s fucking 10:30.”

You stared at him with your head tilted to the side in disbelief, but you were only met with another shrug and a grin. Living on the edge. King of Procrastination, Jeon Jungkook. You were already getting secondhand stress.

With a quiet hum to himself as the music took over, it was clear to you that Jungkook had switched to his serious side. He began prepping one of his easels with various paint brushes and paints. Dragging a heavy-looking but small filing cabinet next to the easel, he used the surface to store his supplies while he worked.

You flopped onto the couch, adjusting so you could have a clear view of Jungkook. He looked cute in his jeans and black hoodie, a blunt pencil tucked behind his ear. His lips pouted slightly as he planned what he was going to do with his painting. Occasionally the pencil would be plucked from his ear and a few sketches appeared on the canvas, too light for you to see what they were from your position on the couch.

The vibration of your phone tore your eyes away from Jungkook’s figure. It was no surprise that your roommate group text was blowing up.

Courtnayyy 😘 [10:00] BITCH WHERE ARE YOU A Mili Amiriah 👑 [10:01] pls tell me the weirdo didn’t murder u Courtnayyy 😘 [10:04] If he did can I have your Mac Miller poster? A Mili Amiriah 👑 [10:15] court how tf would she approve of that if she’s dead? she ain’t gonna see this shit Courtnayyy 😘 [10:18] Ouija board A Mili Amiriah 👑 [10:25] stfu 🔫 A Mili Amiriah 👑 [10:25] Y/N you better answer ur fucking phone right now A Mili Amiriah 👑 [10:40] hellooooooooooooooooooo

You let out a sigh loud enough for Jungkook to look over at you, eyebrows furrowed.

“My roommates think you killed me.”

Jungkook grinned and turned back to his easel with a shake of his head. You’d expected him to say something, but then the reminder that Jungkook was… unconventional slithered into your mind.

[10:45] I’m alive. Can you pls stop blowing up my phone now? 💀 Courtnayyy 😘 [10:46] FUCKING FINALLY A Mili Amiriah 👑 [10:47] what are you doing?? [10:50] We’re just hanging out at his studio. I’ll probably leave soon

You tossed your phone next to you on the couch and lifted your arms into the air to stretch. It was rather warm in the studio and the smooth music of whatever playlist Jungkook had on was making you feel sleepy. What kind of lame college student were you?

“I was serious about what I said.” Jungkook didn’t look at you while he painted, too focused on mixing the right shade of brown.

“About what?”

“You can paint if you want. All the paint and brushes are in the cabinet.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, eyes flitting from the filing cabinet next to Jungkook to the easel off to the side with a blank canvas. What if whatever you painted looked like shit? You had no idea what you were doing.

But when did you ever get to paint in your adult life?

Pushing yourself off the couch you approached Jungkook to start rummaging in the drawers for supplies. You were stopped in your tracks, however, the moment your eyes landed on his painting. Considering that much time hadn’t passed, Jungkook was far along in his work. You came face to face with a woman, or at least the naked body of a woman. She was painted in soft earthy tones, curves accentuated by what looked like a gold silk ribbon that wrapped around her. The painting was certainly abstract because she was missing a head and her limbs weren’t finished, but just having her strong torso and thighs, and a long regal neck, somehow made her feel complete.

“That’s beautiful, JK. She looks so realistic… How can you do all those little details so quickly?” You spoke quietly, desperately wishing you could touch the canvas.

“Painting nudity is easy.” Another classic Jungkook shrug. “That’s why it’s so overdone. There’s nothing more beautiful than humans in their purest state, right? We’re the original art.”

You would have never considered nudity to be pure, but you liked Jungkook’s analysis. Society saw nudity as all about sex. Despite his depiction of breasts and genitalia, Jungkook’s painting was a reflection and appreciation of a body.

You wondered if it was anyone’s body in particular.

The thought soured your mood a bit, and you quickly returned your focus to finding the supplies you needed. Satisfied, you took up the easel beside Jungkook. What the fuck were you going to paint? Especially now that you had this beautiful work blooming next to you.

“Don’t think about it so much. Just go for it.”

There was Jungkook reading your mind again.

You weren’t sure how much time passed with the two of you working silently. At first you’d considered doing something abstract, but eventually you felt compelled to do something a bit more realistic. You’d retrieved your phone (ignoring your roommates’ texts again) to pull up a photo for reference as you painted.

After a while Jungkook lifted his finished painting and carried it to the rack to dry. By the time he had completed his painting, you were putting your final touches on yours - one that was far more simplistic. You found it entertaining, though.

“Who is that?”

You’d been so absorbed in getting those final details perfected that you hadn’t noticed Jungkook standing right behind you. You jumped slightly and that elicited a chuckle from the boy.

“It’s a portrait of Bad Bunny.” Your greatest celebrity crush.

“He’s cute. You did a good job considering you looked so scared to start.” His comment left your cheeks burning. You’d hoped it hadn’t been so obvious, but Jungkook was too observant for his own good (and for yours, too). “Maybe I should hire you as my assistant.”

“Thanks. It’s not as good as yours, though.”

Jungkook waved you off and the action made him realize he had a good amount of paint on his hands. Rather than find a towel, he simply rubbed his hands against his thighs. You watched him, eyes lingering on the way his thighs stretched the tight material of his jeans. Looking up to return to his face you were met with a smirk. You were doing a real shitty job at being subtle, apparently.

You chose not to say anything and focused your attention on finishing your painting, not wanting Jungkook to be waiting for you longer than he needed to. He sat down on the couch, now distracted by his phone.

“So,” you spoke as you lifted up your finished painting, following Jungkook’s instructions to put it on the drying rack. “What was the inspiration for your painting?”

Was it a bold question? You were trying to play it off like you weren’t going to cling to whatever his answer was.

Jungkook patted the space next to him to encourage you to sit down. Once you were sitting next to him, your body turned slightly to face him, Jungkook leaned forward. His face was mere inches from yours and you could feel his breath tickle your cheek. He watched you with those brown doe eyes, such an innocent feature on an otherwise devious-looking face. The smirk that formed on his lips strongly contrasted the sweetness of his eyes.

Jungkook’s tongue poked out to play with his lip ring before he answered your question. It was impossible to look away from his lips, and you thought you felt your heart stop.

“The deadline.”

The smirk grew deeper as he pulled away, running a hand through his hair. You were more than disappointed, feeling yourself deflate and finally realizing you’d been holding your breath. Your shoulders slumped slightly, but you managed to mask the reason for your disappointment by pretending you were disappointed in him.

“Boy, you need to work on your assignments earlier so you can come up with something good,” you huffed, crossing your arms against your chest.

“Was it not good?” He grinned, a cocky twinkle in his eyes, no longer doe-shaped but narrowed in mirth. “Come on, let me drop you off. It’s almost 2.”

“Fuck, I have an 8am.”

With a quick check on your phone you saw that it was indeed almost 2am. How had you spent almost four hours in the studio without realizing it? Nevermind the fact that you’d spent another three or four hanging out with Jungkook before you’d even gotten to the studio.

“I’d skip if I was you.”

Jungkook led you through the art building and to his car, making sure that the music didn’t startle you half to death when he started the car this time.

“Unlike you, I’m a good student, thanks.”

It wasn’t a terrible dig because you knew Jungkook enough to know he didn’t give a shit. All he’d do was give you a small smile and melt your heart with the confusion of how it was possible for someone to look both so soft and so dangerous.

Your dorm was on the other side of campus, so the drive over was quick. But rather than drop you off at the sidewalk, Jungkook pulled into the parking lot, much to your surprise.

“I thought you were staying over at your parents’?”

Jungkook kept the car running, but he unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned back in his chair.

“Me and Tae are gonna go smoke. I got this new strain of indica we wanna try.”

He didn’t look at you when he spoke, instead facing forward to peer out the window. Once he brought up weed, you realized you could smell the remnants of weed smoke in Jungkook’s car, partially masked by air freshener.

At the mention of Jungkook’s roommate you felt your stomach drop. The feeling was only intensified when you followed Jungkook’s gaze to see a figure with long legs and broad shoulders make their way down the sidewalk, heading right in your direction. You felt ice shoot through your veins and panic settle into your chest.

“Oh,” you squeaked out. You needed to escape, but you couldn’t force your hands to unbuckle yourself and open the door.

“Do you wanna come with us?” Jungkook took your lack of movement as a desire to get high.

You looked at Jungkook with an open mouth, but nothing came out. And even if you could speak, Taehyung was already flinging the car door open.

“Oh, shit, Y/N. I didn’t even see you there.” Taehyung leaned against the car door, eyes sweeping over your small figure as you attempted to look as relaxed as possible.

Did he lick his lips or were you just imagining that?

“Want me to sit in the back?”

Taehyung leaned down so he could poke his head into the car and talk to Jungkook right over you. The position gave you a perfect view of his neck and his collarbones peeking out from beneath the silk button-up shirt he was wearing, the first few buttons undone as usual. His cologne smelled like cedar and you could faintly smell something fruity, likely the strawberry-flavored vape he smoked.

All of that was enough to send you mentally screaming into the void.

“ThanksJungkookIgottago,” you sputtered, doing your best not to touch Taehyung as you moved around him to get out.

“Y/N!”

You ignored Jungkook’s call, not daring to look back. Despite your exhaustion you took the stairs two at a time until you made it to your dorm, nearly dropping your keys as you unlocked the door. The kitchen and living room were dark, so you knew your roommates were asleep - or at least in their own rooms. You didn’t even bother to do your nighttime routine, opting to strip down to your underwear and collapse into your bed face-first.

Darkness and silence brought you no solitude; quite honestly, they had the opposite effect. All you had in your head was Taehyung’s face… in your ears, his voice… in your nostrils, his smell.

Groaning, you flipped onto your back and grabbed your phone to put on your favorite thunderstorm white noise playlist. In the middle of picking the perfect sound, your phone buzzed with a text.

Jungkook (Poetry) [2:15] you good?

You bit your lip, not wanting to leave him hanging so late, but also knowing if you went down this rabbithole you’d never fall asleep.

[2:16] I’m fine

Your phone vibrated almost immediately, but you forced yourself to put it away. Whatever Jungkook had to say could wait until the morning. Or until never, because right now you never wanted to speak to another human ever again.

Jungkook (Poetry) [2:16] you don’t have to lie to me Jungkook (Poetry) [3:02] lying destroys our intrinsic value as human beings by corrupting our ability to make rational choices and have free will Jungkook (Poetry) [3:03] immanuel kant said that

You didn’t realize you’d be hit with a philosophical lecture the moment you woke up, but then you remembered that Jungkook had gone smoking with Taehyung. The two of them got all philosophical when they were high, as if they really could achieve some kind of superior knowledge.

They were idiots.

“Oh my god, when the fuck did you get home last night?”

Anyone speaking that loud and harshly so early in the morning was an assailant. You glared at Courtney, brushing past her to get to the bathroom. You shouldn’t have been surprised that the girl stayed outside the bathroom door as she waited for you to finish.

“It was definitely after 1am ‘cause that’s when we went to bed,” she kept on talking even when you turned the shower on. “What could you guys have possibly been doing that whole time? Did you hook up?”

“No.”

“What?” Courtney strained to hear you over the sound of the high-pressure water.

“I said, no!”

It was ridiculous that you were standing there, rubbing your naked body down with lavender exfoliating soap, while you discussed your alleged hook up with a guy you barely knew.

You thanked the Lord Almighty that your schedule didn’t line up with your roommates on Wednesdays, or else you would have had to suffer Courtney and Amiriah’s interrogations the whole day.

Instead you sleepily dragged yourself through two morning classes and a work shift at the university library before you’d eventually have to face Jungkook head-on.

Your Advanced Poetry class was small enough that all the students could sit around a large table together. The small, intimate class size made it easier for collaboration and made workshops feel a bit less ruthless. You’d gotten to the point that you could read anonymous poems from each of your classmates and know exactly who wrote what. You were like a little family who met every Wednesday evening for two hours and poured your thoughts, dreams, fears, and goals into each other with every written piece. This class was going to be what broke your heart when the semester was over; you could already feel yourself missing it.

“Alright, y’all, we’re going to workshop the imitation poems from the exercise last week.”

You felt your heart drop to the pit of your stomach. Whatever else Professor Mendez was saying didn’t compute; she sounded like she was speaking underwater and all you could do was shift your eyes to look at Jungkook across the table from you. You hadn’t expected him to be already looking at you nor for him to hold your gaze until you quickly looked away.

The poem you’d written for the exercise was about Taehyung.

You’d thought only your professor was ever going to see it. And now she was calling on you to read yours aloud first. No one else would know who it was about, but you knew Jungkook would know.

“Y/N?”

Professor Mendez looked at you, her star pupil, with an encouraging smile. You swallowed, avoiding Jungkook’s gaze though you felt him staring. If you kept the piece of paper on the table in front of you, you wouldn’t risk showing everyone that your hands were slightly trembling. And then you opened your mouth.

I SAW YOU ONCE IN A FEVER DREAM (After Kaveh Akbar) I saw you once in a fever dream shirtless swaddling me in a hammock hanging from cedar trees When you smoke it gets stuck in your hair Save it for later The smell of marijuana and strawberry vapes lingered in my clothes In another fever dream you were my mother The doctor asked if I am allergic to any medications and I should have said yes but it is only you I have felt love flow through me I have never felt it given My friend once told me there is only so much you can do At what point am I the problem Sometimes I stare at the wall and peel the nails off of my fingers for every time you broke me Somehow it feels better this way

It was depressing, pathetic even. Sure, you’d imitated Kaveh Akbar’s unique writing style to a T, but now you looked stupid for writing about a man you’d never even dated, who had unofficially “dumped” you last spring semester. Jungkook had to know. Unless he was completely oblivious (which was honestly likely, when you really thought about it). And maybe you were being too cocky, assuming some guy who you meant nothing to would care or even pay attention to the fact that his friend had fucked you into a broken heart.

You sat with tight lips as the class discussed your poem, a few people put off by your use of space on the page, others praising your unique way of formatting the stanzas. Jungkook never spoke, but he never did until the end of class when Professor Mendez called him out for being silent. Then he would provide feedback for whoever had gone before him, his opinion usually directly contradicting whatever your professor said. She knew he wasn’t being defiant, and she welcomed his creative challenge of the status quo. But sometimes he was a bit much.

“Well, Mr. Jungkook. Let’s hear yours.”

You could feel the entire room both tense and lean forward, as if scared but also unimaginably eager for whatever it was they were about to receive.

“I didn’t finish, but I can read what I have. It’s a prose poem.”

UNTITLED I met her in the evaporated residue of a midnight bong rip. Among glimmers of artificially-simulated worlds, of over-saturated hues. Hurried hues of a purple-pink bruise, bloom, slippery between thighs. Tongue flicks. Slide. These things only happen behind closed doors. An eternity of almosts, she likes to wear my hand as a choker. Drag me whole into desire, into pink folds and broken promises. Drip slick slow stroke glide and move inside, eat feast thrive. Beat it up every time. Pulsate. Pulsate. Own it. My hands on your hips. Blindfold over your eyes. Selfish fuck. I am a decomposing mind; her body whispers otherwise.

Jungkook could have written a poem about dog shit and the way he recited it would have been breathtaking. It didn’t matter that his lines were verging on pornographic for an academic setting; simply the way the alliteration flowed like honey from his mouth was enough to send shivers down anyone’s spine. The words came out like a gentle lullaby of filth, a smooth mantra, a promise of sin. It was no wonder the classroom fell silent. Even Professor Mendez stared at Jungkook with an unreadable expression on her face.

“Thank you, Jungkook,” she said after a moment.

He nodded politely and slouched into his seat again.

Professor Mendez looked around the room for the first volunteer to take a stab at critiquing Jungkook’s poem. Only a brave soul could manage, and you were determined to keep your mouth shut. You could already visualize the way your classmates were going to gossip about this once class was over. You wondered how long it would take for Courtney and Amiriah to find out.

“Who would like to go first?”

It appeared the class had very few critiques, likely because no one wanted to dive too deeply into the abstract and overtly-sexual writing that had been.

Professor Mendez went on a mini rant about the importance of knowing how to keep the flow of a prose poem that somehow derailed into a story about her new puppy. Perhaps someone had gotten her going to kill the last few minutes of class until it was 8pm and she was forced to let the group of you go into the night.

You always managed to be the last person leaving the classroom every Wednesday night. Usually it was due to your prolonged conversations with Professor Mendez, the two of you gushing over a new poetry collection or the latest episode of a TV show. Jungkook, on the other hand, was typically the first to leave. Likely to go find his little crew of delinquents to do drugs with or whatever else they got themselves into.

Except apparently not today.

As you waved a goodbye to Professor Mendez, you headed down the empty hallway fully aware of the second pair of shoes echoing in the silence along with yours. Your insides were still scrambled from the series of exceptionally unfortunate events that had involved Kim Taehyung in the past twenty-four hours. You had no desire to entertain Jungkook, especially not after him staring you down all of class. And reading that fucking poem.

“Are you really gonna ignore me?”

You squeezed the straps of your backpack and stopped in front of the door to leave the academic building. If you acted bothered it would make you more suspicious. And it would let Kim Taehyung continue to rule your mind. You were better than this…

So you turned around to face the doe-eyed boy and tried not to imagine his hand squeezing your throat.

“I’m not ignoring you.” You cocked your head to one side in feigned confusion. Jungkook met your look with a small pout.

“I’m sorry if I did something to upset you yesterday.”

So, he didn’t know. Either that, or he was lying. But didn’t Immanuel Kant say lying is bad? You did everything in your power not to scowl to yourself.

“I’m fine, Jungkook. I swear.” You let out an irritated sigh, casting a glance behind your shoulder as you heard thunder ripple through the air outside. You’d obviously forgotten to check the weather that morning, looking down at your t-shirt and shorts.

“Okay…” He eyed you skeptically, but he didn’t want to push you further and threaten pushing you away completely. “Can I walk with you?”

“Of course.” He lived literally across the hall from you. You could open your door and be face-to-face with his.

“Okay… Can I give you a hug?”

You rolled your eyes so far and deep inside your skull it was a surprise they didn’t detach and disappear somewhere. It wasn’t fair that you were taking out your frustrations on Jungkook simply because your ego was hurt. That self-awareness was what made you nod your head with your arms outstretched.

Jungkook enveloped you in his large frame, the side of your face pressed against his chest. One of his arms wrapped around your waist, and he held the back of your head in his free hand. There was something about Jungkook’s closeness that caught you off guard. Perhaps it was because this was the first time you’d ever hugged each other; you’d never been this physical with each other at all, actually. You weren’t much of the hugging type, anyway.

Jungkook’s warmth made you settle into his embrace for much longer than you’d expected. He felt soft, safe. Even the chemical smell of paint that had seeped into his hoodie was welcoming. Despite the rumbling of a heavy thunderstorm outside, you could still hear his heart beat beneath you. Something about that realization made you pull away from him suddenly. It was just too… close.

He stared at you with a wrinkled brow and the pout was slowly coming back, but he stayed silent. You couldn’t meet his eyes.

“Ready?”

With raised shoulders you braced yourself for the downpour.

By the time the two of you had sprinted across the courtyard, you were completely soaked. You felt your earlier frustrations melt with the water droplets gliding down your arms as you leaned against Jungkook’s equally-soaked body. He was nearly doubled over in laughter, shoulder pressed against the wall next to the front door of his dorm room.

“You look like a wet cat,” he teased.

“Oh yeah? Well you look like a wet dog.” Your poor hair was going to get embarrassingly frizzy if you didn’t take care of it immediately.

Jungkook flashed you an evil grin and violently shook his head, sending water spraying all over.

“Jungkook, stop!” you hollered, giving him a shove. “I feel so gross already.”

You twisted around to fish out your dorm key from your backpack, but your fingers scraped the bottom of the pocket. No key.

“Fuck,” you cursed, setting your backpack on the ground to search through more pockets. Giving up on that possibility, you checked the pockets of your shorts. Nothing.

Unlocking your phone, your thumb hovered over your roommate group text, unsure if you should interrupt Amiriah and Courtney. It was a little after 8pm… Both of your roommates would be in their weekly sorority meeting that usually lasted at least an hour, if not two.

“What’s wrong?”

“I… locked myself out.” What a fucking rookie mistake. What was this, freshman year? “I’m pretty sure I left my keys on the kitchen table.”

Now you were stranded in your hallway, cold and soaking wet. You could go downstairs to ask your RA to let you in, but she was a bitch.

“You’re a mess. Come on, I’ve got clothes for you.”

He didn’t give you the opportunity to protest; instead, he stepped inside his dorm without even so much as a look over his shoulder at you.

Apparently your desire to be warm and dry was stronger than your fear of entering the Dorm Room from Hell. You’d never been in Jungkook’s dorm before, mostly because you didn’t want to run into Taehyung.

The layout was the same as yours: full kitchen with adjacent living room, long hall with individual bedrooms that ended with a bathroom. The decorations practically screamed “guys who smoke weed” considering the giant marijuana leaf tapestry hanging in the living room and the multicolored string lights that hung on the ceiling casting a psychedelic glow throughout the dorm. An incense that smelled interestingly like the ocean was burning on the coffee table.

You were pretty sure burning incense wasn’t allowed on university property. Then again, neither was smoking weed in the parking lot, but Jungkook and his roommates did whatever they wanted.

“Are you just gonna stand there or…?”

Jungkook led the way down the hall, you trailing a bit behind him as you continued being nosy. As you passed the first bedroom, the door suddenly swung open, causing you to yelp when you were face-to-face with a rather grumpy looking man with shockingly green hair. The bleary look of his eyes told you he’d been asleep.

“Why the fuck are you wet?”

You did a double take, shocked at the roughness of the question from a stranger. Before you could answer, Jungkook was pulling you forward by the wrist.

“Hyung, I went to the grocery store today. There’s tangerines on the counter.”

The green-haired roommate grumbled a thank you and shot straight to the kitchen.

“Just ignore Yoongi,” Jungkook whispered, stopping in front of his bedroom. “He’s a fifth-year senior and probably ready to burn the entire university down.”

Jungkook’s bedroom was the exact opposite of what you’d expected. After seeing the chaos of his art studio, you’d thought his bedroom would be much of the same. Instead you were met with a simple, organized room. No clutter, no mess. Everything had its place, not an art supply in sight. Peaking over his shoulder, you saw even his dresser drawers were organized, each article of clothing neatly folded. That was likely why Jungkook was able to quickly pick out a t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts to hand you.

“Oh, and this,” he tossed you a towel, as well. “You can use the bathroom. I’ll be in here.”

“Thank you,” you said with an appreciative nod.

The skin on your fingers had wrinkled up from the rain and you pressed them into the towel to find some relief. Who knew the feeling of wearing dry clothes would be so sweet? You took your time in the bathroom, rubbing down every inch of your body. Unfortunately, even your underwear and bra were soaked. If you put on dry clothes over them, the water would surely bleed into the fabric. So you opted for going commando, to your dismay. At least Jungkook’s t-shirt was baggy enough that your chest wasn’t on full display, and it wasn’t like anyone would know you weren’t wearing underwear.

You caught a look at yourself in the mirror and laughed at how ridiculous you looked. It was like you’d come out of a really bad hip-hop music video from the early 2000s, literally drowning in baggy clothes.

“Hey Jungkook… Do you have something I could put my clothes in?” You stood in the hallway in front of Jungkook’s bedroom, wet clothes in your hands. The door was closed and you were afraid of opening it if he was still changing.

“You look cute.”

You instinctively squeezed your bundle of clothes, turning your head to the side at the sound of that Mother. Fucking. Annoying. Ass. Voice.

Taehyung raised an eyebrow at you, probably utterly confused as to why you looked the way you did, standing there in his dorm. You were determined to give him absolutely nothing.

“So, you and Jungkook, huh?”

A small smirk twisted at the corners of his mouth. By the way he was standing with his hands in the pockets of his jeans, it was clear that he wasn’t planning on walking away.

“We just got back from class,” you said matter-of-factly.

You focused on a spot on the wall to the right of his head when you spoke; it made it easier to look at him without having to stare into his eyes. Even though you found absolutely nothing about your statement funny, Taehyung started laughing. It was a low chuckle that brought that stupid smirk out even more.

“Were you coming back from class at 2 o’clock this morning, too?”

His eyes glinted with something that made a shiver shoot down the length of your spine.

Luckily, Jungkook’s abrupt presence swinging the bedroom door open gave you and Taehyung someone else to focus on, and you could safely escape the fact that you didn’t have a witty comeback to shove in Taehyung’s face for teasing you about Jungkook. There was nothing there with Jungkook.

He just gave nice hugs. And you respected his creative mind. And he had great taste in music. And you felt a little bit bad for him because people didn’t seem to give him the chances he deserved. And, wow, he was standing in the doorway of his bedroom wearing form-fitting gray sweatpants that sat low on his hips and you could tell that they sat low because he was shirtless. And your eyes were skipping down the path that his happy trail was leading from his belly button down to the strings of his sweatpants that hung down just on top of where you could make out a slight bulge in the fabric.

“Y/N?”

You quickly tore your eyes from Jungkook’s crotch to look at his face, not missing the way Taehyung’s smirk was growing even wider. You opened your mouth, then looked down at your clothes, then back at Jungkook.

“She wants something to put her clothes in,” Taehyung admitted once it was clear you weren’t going to cooperate. “I’m going over to Natalie’s. Oh, and I dipped into your Trojan stash. Yoongi hyung didn’t have any and you have too many.”

He flashed Jungkook a grin and pushed himself from his leaning position on the wall.

“Have fun,” he offered over his shoulder as he walked away, heading to go fuck his girlfriend’s brains out.

You were going to throw up.

“What a fucking asshole,” you breathed through gritted teeth.

Rather than be surprised at your cursing, Jungkook gave you a sympathetic look as he took your wet clothes from you to put in a small duffle bag.

“I’m sorry…” he said after a moment, gesturing for you to step into his bedroom. He closed the door behind you and hopped onto his bed. Just as he’d done in the studio, he patted the space next to him to get you to sit with him.

“C’mere.”

“Jungkook, I don’t wanna bother you anymore. You’ve had to deal with me a lot the past 24 hours.”

“Do I look bothered?”

You gave the boy a tight shake of your head and clambered onto the bed beside him, careful to sit hunched over a bit so your chest wouldn’t be too obvious. For once, he no longer smelled like paint. Instead your senses were overwhelmed by the strong scent of his laundry detergent, something akin to the ocean breeze of the incense the roommates were burning in the living room. He leaned his back against the headboard, but he turned at an angle to look at you from the side.

“He told me about you two…”

You felt your body stiffen at his confession and Jungkook rushed to finish his thought.

“Not the details or anything. But just that you were hooking up.”

Great. This was perfect. Leave it to Taehyung to treat you like a secret yet blabber to his friends. You hadn’t even told any of your friends about Taehyung. To this day, Courtney and Amiriah had no idea. And could you even trust Jungkook when he said the details were spared? Didn’t boys love to talk about their sexual conquests?

“I’m sorry he’s such a fuckboy.”

“Oh, like you aren’t, too?”

“What?!”

Jungkook stared at you incredulously, shocked by your sudden aggression. But you couldn’t stop yourself. The anger you’d let fester in you from countless boys quite literally fucking you over was all spilling over the top. It was just unfortunate that Jungkook was there to bear the weight rather than Taehyung; but you didn’t think he was wholly innocent either. College boys were entitled and selfish. Even though Jungkook had never done anything to you, you’d seen how some girls followed after him like he was some kind of mystery meant to be solved. He never explicitly talked about his love life with you, but you only took that as a bad sign.

“Oh don’t act brand new, Jungkook. You literally make everything about sex. Literally all your poems are about eating pussy. You made that fucking painting of a naked women. And what the fuck is that?”

Your arm shot out to point at a painting hanging on his wall that looked vaguely like an abstract rendition of a vulva. It somehow felt like the icing on the fucked up cake.

“It’s called artistic appreciation!”

“You’re just as gross as Taehyung and all the other guys who just use women for their bodies and don’t give a fuck about how we feel or-”

“Stop it.” Jungkook’s voice hit you like ice. You dropped your arm down and whipped your head back around to look at him, lips falling open at the harshness of his tone.

“Don’t compare me to Tae. You don’t know what I’m like. You barely know me at all.”

“That’s not-”

“I said stop, okay?” he interjected again and the glare he sent you was enough to shut you up for good. Being scolded wasn’t exactly high on your list of favorite activities, especially not from someone you considered to be a friend. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire and you struggled to swallow down your words, shame creeping up your face in waves.

“I’ve spent the last four months in that poetry class watching you write about feeling broken and alone and misunderstood. And you know what I do? I invite you over to do homework ‘cause I know none of your other friends are studying English. And I asked you to go to Morgan Parker’s book reading with me ‘cause I knew you didn’t have anyone else to go with. And I invited you to my studio ‘cause you said you wish you were good at art and I wanted you to see that you could be good if you tried.”

At this point his cheeks had turned bright pink and his hands were bunched up into fists in his lap. As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t look away from the fire in his eyes.

“I’m not trying to make you feel like you owe me anything or to get some kind of recognition, okay? But just don’t fucking compare me to Tae when all I’ve ever tried to do is make you feel less alone. I like you, a lot. And I don’t even care that you’re not into me and you’re still caught up on him. I genuinely just want you to be happy.”

With his monologue over, Jungkook turned his head to stare down at his hands, leaving you to peer at his profile with your mouth hanging open.

It was the most you’d heard Jungkook speak, ever. It was also the most expressive you’ve ever seen him. Despite his passion for art, Jungkook was a very level person; he was collected even in the most stressful situations. To see him visibly shaking as he raised his voice was upsetting.

“Jungkook…” You reached out to touch his arm and your heart broke into a million pieces when he flinched.

“It’s whatever.”

But it wasn’t.

You felt like shrinking into the smallest version of yourself and disappearing. You’d spent so much time aching over the wounds Taehyung had left that you hadn’t considered what you might be missing out on, or how you might have been hurting someone else. Your head was lost in the dark cloud hanging over you; your heart couldn’t see anything in front of you. Blinded by your own pain, healing long overdue.

You were so fucking stupid.

“JK…” you started again. Lifting your hand, you brought your fingers to his chin and encouraged him to turn his head to look at you. “I’m so sorry. I really am. I just… It hurts? I don’t know what to do with the hurt.”

From Taehyung and every other reckless boy.

You let go of his face and waited, holding your breath until your lungs burned. Much to your disappointment, Jungkook maintained that cold stare, his eyes boring into yours so deeply that you felt like he was seeing something inside of you that even you didn’t know. You were afraid to look at him, shame making it difficult to hold your head up.

“Give it to me.”

“What?” It was your turn to cast your eyebrows down in confusion.

“Give me the hurt. You don’t have to hold onto it anymore. I can take it.” His large hand enveloped your own, thumb running figure 8s into your skin.

You tried to speak, but you couldn’t choke out even a whisper as his words repeated in your head. Give me the hurt. Your hands shivered beneath his and you looked away quickly, feeling that horrid prickling in the corner of your eyes. You were not going to lose it just because you were touch-starved and never once in your life had someone so soundly declared their desire to take on whatever pain it was that you were feeling. You liked to keep your pain a secret, only letting out emotions through your poetry. And even then, you wanted to separate yourself from it. Writing was like putting down your emotion, letting it exist outside of you, so you could live free from it. But that didn’t always happen the way you wanted it to.

You blinked quickly, losing focus on Jungkook’s face until you felt something hot slip down your cheek and you realized you were crying.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, embarrassment flooding your chest as you tried not to hiccup. What kind of emotional disaster were you? As Courtney would say, it wasn’t very girlboss of you.

“I can take it.”

This time the embers had gone out in his eyes. Instead, his irises were pleading with you. You tried to cover your face with your hands, but Jungkook held them down. He brushed your cheeks dry with his thumb, cradling your chin in his palm.

“You deserve better, okay?”

It was difficult to believe, but the soft gaze Jungkook held made you want to think maybe he was right. But how could it be possible for someone to want to carry your burden for you? He had no reason to.

“I’m good now,” you said after a moment, the tears dried and your breathing returning to normal. You wanted to give him an out, let him have the opportunity to feel like he’d done his part in case he didn’t really mean what he said. You refused to let yourself fall for anymore bullshit.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You don’t have to lie to me…”

There was that familiar line. You felt your eyes instinctually roll and you couldn’t stop the next snarky comment from slipping past your lips, using biting humor as a defense mechanism to cope.

“Okay, Immanuel Kant.”

Jungkook snorted, matching your eye roll, but he gave you a smile that reached his eyes. A classic Jungkook grin that had you giving a small smile in return and making your stomach flip like a fucking gymnast. It made you slowly float back down to reality and you remembered you were sitting in a shirtless Jungkook’s bed, his body leaned forward out of concern for you, his face mere inches from yours. Hand still cradling your chin.

“Jungkook…”

Your voice got caught in your throat with what little breathing you could manage. Then you watched his eyes drop to your lips as you whispered his name, and the melancholic look he gave you when his gaze returned to yours made you squeeze your eyes shut with guilt. He’d confessed his interest in you and you’d completely glossed over it. Not on purpose, but somehow you were making your feelings the priority once again. And now he looked at you like you were already gone.

“Yeah, Y/N?” You opened your eyes at his call.

“I…”

You wanted to tell him how you felt, you really did. But life had taught you that in relationships there was always someone who cared more, and that person always got hurt the most. You just couldn’t keep being that person.

Jungkook studied your face for what felt like an eternity. If he was expecting you to finish your sentence, he was certainly being patient. But it was the way his mouth turned downward into a small frown and his eyes traveled off somewhere behind you that told you he’d lost hope.

Until he was staring at you once again and his grip on your chin tightened so subtly you almost didn’t notice.

“Can I kiss you?”

His voice came out low and thick. The tone sent a shiver down your spine and made goosebumps rise along your forearms. You’d never heard his voice drop so deep before, nor had you seen his eyes darken the way they had now. A spark of desire fluttered in your stomach and you felt nearly lightheaded from the way your body was hitting a peak level of anxiety over his question. If you said yes, were you just giving into yet another boy who would ruin you? And you believed Jungkook could ruin you. He was an artist; they were always trouble.

But there was no denying the fact that your nervousness was merely a physical response to your interest in Jungkook that had grown exponentially over time. You were weak, and he was right. You did feel broken and alone and misunderstood. And you knew that sometimes Jungkook felt that way, too.

Just when Jungkook began to pull away with a look of rejection written across his face, you nodded. Unable to speak, you watched Jungkook’s tongue swipe across his bottom lip as he leaned in even closer.

You were prepared for something much more lewd than what Jungkook gave you. Though your lips were parted, he didn’t invade your space. Instead of tongue and lip biting, you were met with a chaste kiss. His lips were soft and gentle, and the way his hand cupped your face made you feel secure, just as you’d felt when he hugged you. You’d never felt a sense of security with someone from a simple kiss.

And then he was ending the kiss just as quickly as he’d started it, finally dropping his hand from your face.

“Sorry,” he sighed, no longer meeting your eyes when he spoke. “I shouldn’t have asked. I don’t want you to feel like you had to agree to that…”

It was your turn to shut him up. Maybe it was the remaining hormones swirling in your brain from having cried so much, or the adrenaline from being kissed by a man you’d tried to shoo out of your mind, but you felt bold enough to take his chin in your hand as he had done to you. You pressed your lips against his, this time forcing his mouth into a faster, deeper rhythm. The kiss was heavy and more desperate than the first. It was what you’d initially expected Jungkook to give you; a makeout that went hard and fast from the beginning, 0 to 100. That was what fuckboys did, wasn’t it? Anything to get their dick wet the quickest.

It was what you were used to.

Your small hands found the tops of his shoulders, fingers running along his smooth, warm skin before you pushed him against the headboard. Swinging your leg over his, your knees sank into the soft bed as you straddled him. You adjusted slightly in his lap and the shift made your core press directly on top of the bulge in his pants that you’d admired earlier. This realization made the sudden heat between your legs melt like lava, and you ground your hips into his in a smooth but firm motion.

The movement elicited a deep groan from the back of Jungkook’s throat, another sweet sound you’d never had the pleasure of hearing fall from his lips. With his lips parted from groaning, you took the opportunity to slip your tongue inside of his mouth. His hands pushed up the hem of your shirt just enough to allow him to reach the skin of your waist, gripping you hard as your body moved against his.

“Y/N, wait.”

Jungkook pulled back to lean his head against the bed’s headboard and you were met not with lust-filled eyes as you expected, but eyes that looked so deeply pained you almost wanted to avert your gaze.

“I don’t wanna be a rebound. I want this to mean something, or else I can’t do this.”

Jungkook’s voice came out hoarse, and it trembled. His eyes still held that undeniable sadness that reminded you that, once again, you had failed to see how your own fear of rejection had made you ignorant to the feelings you were instilling in him. Here he was, willing to give himself over to you, holding back because he was afraid that you would hurt him.

Once again, shame flooded your face as you frantically searched for a way to show that you needed this to mean something, that in just a few months he had become the most constant person in your life, the person you were most comfortable with even when all you often did was just sit and talk about life.

There was an obvious way to fix this, but you still had that gnawing feeling holding you back.

“I like you, too, Jungkook.” Squeezing your eyes shut, you spoke just barely above a whisper. If you didn’t look at him, the vulnerability of the moment would be easier to manage. “You’re kind and smart even though you’re always toeing the line of academic probation.”

Your words came out rushed, the last comment making you let out a laugh that sounded more like a short burst of air, and you held onto his shoulders for dear life.

“And you’re the most creative and imaginative person I’ve ever met, but you’re so lowkey about everything. You deserve more than you give yourself credit for,” you continued, eyes still closed. “And… I guess you’re kinda hot…”

With that you slowly opened one eye to peek at Jungkook’s face. It was embarrassing to say that the grin he wore made your heart soar and it was only then that you noticed the way his fingertips were running along your sides, tracing invisible designs onto your skin.

“Only kinda hot?”

“Oh shut up.”

You gave him a playful slap against his chest. You let your hand linger there, palm pressed against him to feel the strength of his pec muscle. With your bottom lip pulled between your teeth, you ran your hand down the length of Jungkook’s chest and along his abdomen until you reached between your bodies to access the hem of his sweatpants.

Without warning you gripped his cock, palming it over his pants. You felt it twitch beneath your fingers, already semi-hard and warm even through the fabric. Jungkook let out a low groan, hips slightly bucking into you. Suddenly aware of how painfully clothed you are, Jungkook slid his hands back up your sides, pushing his t-shirt off of you in the process. Ruining the orderly look of his bedroom, he tossed the t-shirt and brought his attention back to you.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he hissed, realizing that you weren’t wearing a bra.

You shuddered at the gentle way he ran his fingers up your sides once more and you leaned forward when his tattooed fingers lightly pinched one of your nipples until it went hard. Then he moved onto the other one, tweaking it slowly.

After a moment you let go of him and reached for the hem of his sweatpants, waiting for him to lift his body so you could pull them down his legs.

He’s big, bigger than you’d expected. You’d imagined he would have a nice dick, purely because it seemed like the most mysterious, standoffish guys always did. They didn’t have to compensate by being boisterous and arrogant; they knew what they were packing and that was enough. But Jungkook was quite possibly too much. You were a small person, for fuck’s sake.

“We don’t have to do this. If you’re not ready, we can stop.”

There was Jungkook reading your mind, yet again. How was it possible for him to know exactly what to say every single time? Were you just that expressive? If so, no one else in your life read you so well.

“Stop talking,” you repeated his earlier command, but you didn’t look him in the eyes. Instead you were focused on how heavy and soft his cock felt in your hand as you admired him. You ran your fingers along the prominent vein on the underside of his cock, then you glided your thumb along the tip to smear the bit of precum that was already leaking. The action made Jungkook whimper and the sound sent a jolt straight into your core.

But just before you could lower your head down to give him what you knew he wanted, Jungkook’s hand was cupping your chin once again. He pulled your face upwards to guide you back to his.

“I’m fine, Jungkook. I want to do this,” you assured him, but he slowly shook his head.

“You’re going in so fast, and you don’t have to. I’m not some asshole hookup. The point of all this isn’t just to get me off and make you put in all the work.” He leaned forward to kiss you on the tip of your nose and you’d never felt more wanted in your entire life. “You deserve to feel good for once.”

Snaking his arm around your waist, Jungkook gently flipped you onto your back. Spreading your legs apart with his knees, he kneeled over you as he began laying hot kisses down the length of your neck, pausing only to suck at the soft skin where your neck and collarbone met.

“Jungkook…” you sighed, squirming underneath him once his mouth began to travel further down.

He flicked his tongue against one of your nipples, drawing a circle around the erect mound. He let out a deep hiss of approval when you moaned, arching your back to push yourself against his mouth. While his tongue was busy exploring your chest, Jungkook took his sweet time pulling his basketball shorts off of you, those too flying across the room.

When he moved back into a comfortable position between your legs, his thigh brushed against your core and he let out a moan loud enough you were sure his roommates would hear him.

“Fuck, Y/N, you could’ve warned me you weren’t wearing any underwear,” he groaned, his thigh now glistening with your arousal.

“Sorry I didn’t think to tell you while I was crying.”

“So dramatic.”

You covered your face with your hands in embarrassment that bore even deeper into your soul when a pathetic whimper escaped your lips the moment you felt Jungkook’s hand slip in between your thighs.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he sighed, effortlessly sliding his fingers along your folds. He ran his fingers up and down slowly as if he were memorizing each crevice and the way your legs jumped when he hit a certain spot, especially once he began stroking your clit.

He was exploring, you realized. He was learning your body and there was nothing more embarrassing. All you could think about was the fear that Jungkook might not like what he saw. Or that he was comparing you to his past fucks. Or that Taehyung had told him things about your sex life.

“Why are you hiding from me?”

You felt your hands being pried from your face and lifted over your head. Jungkook pinned your wrists above you, his face now inches from yours. You could see a restrained wildness in his eyes, but his eyebrows were knitted together in frustration.

“Why?” he repeated.

You shook your head, but another irritated call of your name made you question your decision to defy him.

“I just don’t want you to be disappointed…” you whispered, avoiding his gaze.

“Does this seem like disappointment to you?” Jungkook rolled his hips into you, his now rock hard cock sliding against your dripping folds.

“Ahh, n-no,” you gasped, wiggling under his hold.

“Okay, so don’t hide from me. Let me take care of you.”

Letting go of your wrists, Jungkook got off of the bed. You watched him with confusion that slowly melted into a mixture of anxiety and sweet anticipation as he hooked his arms around your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the bed. Falling to his knees, Jungkook let your legs rest on his broad shoulders. You could feel his breath against your skin and it took everything in your power not to begin squirming again when you felt his tongue lick a hot stripe up the inside of your thigh.

“I want you to watch me while I eat you out,” Jungkook murmured, his dark eyes locking with yours as he leaned forward to plant a kiss against your lower lips. “Okay?”

You had no choice but to nod in compliance, propping yourself up on your forearms so you could get a better view even though everything in you was screaming to break your gaze. You could hardly believe it was Jungkook staring at you through his bangs from between your legs. Not to mention you were usually very shy when it came to being sexually pleasured - mostly because it rarely happened. Guys were always expecting you to do them favors, not the other way around. You couldn’t even remember the last time a guy had gone down on you.

But there was no time to be shy when Jungkook abruptly plunged his tongue into your folds. You let out a loud yelp and immediately slapped your hand over your mouth to muffle the remaining squeals threatening to slip from your parted lips. Jungkook chuckled at your response and the vibration made your cunt throb.

Still, you kept your gaze locked with his as he lapped up your juices, no matter how dirty it made you feel to have those blown out pupils bore into yours. Your eyes only fluttered when his lips found your clit and began to suck on it while his tongue flicked a steady rhythm against it, the two sensations proving to be almost too much for you to handle. Your breathing became ragged as you felt your abdomen tense up.

“Jungkook,” you whispered a moan, hands gripping the bed sheets so tightly your fingers started to hurt.

“Hmm, baby? You’re gonna have to speak up.” The new nickname made you whimper.

As if to encourage you to find your voice, Jungkook slid two fingers inside of you as he returned to pleasuring your clit. The sudden stretch immediately ripped a strangled moan out of you and your hips involuntarily bucked into Jungkook’s face.

“I’m sorry,” you quickly apologized, but Jungkook only fucked into you harder, expertly curling his fingers at just the right spot to make your legs start to shake.

“Don’t apologize. You can fuck my face all you want,” he lifted his head up to lick his lips, sending you a wink that made your heart stop.

He could sense your orgasm coming soon by the way your walls were clenching around his fingers, but he was determined to make it as mind-shattering as possible. Fitting a third finger inside of you, he continued to suck on your clit, tongue swirling to the rhythm of his fingers.

“Ohh, oh my god,” you sobbed, tears pooling in your eyes as you finally reached your climax. You let out a loud cry, fingers tangled in Jungkook’s hair as you struggled to still your shaking legs.

Licking a final stripe up your lips, Jungkook lifted his head from your thighs and gave you a satisfied grin. He was truly a sight for sore eyes with his mouth soaked in your arousal and his hair a mess from your fingers running through it. You fell flat on your back, legs dangling off the edge of the bed.

“You good?”

“I’m going to die.”

Your eyes were on the ceiling but you heard him laugh and you felt his strong arms lift your legs back onto the bed, adjusting you so you were comfortably in the center of the mattress again.

“Damn, I didn’t realize I was gonna make you tap out so fast,” he teased, lying down beside you. He pressed a kiss against your throat.

“Everyone says you have great head game and I should’ve taken them more seriously.”

“Who says that?!”

You turned onto your side to face him, already rolling your eyes. “Don’t you know the rumors that get spread about you?”

Jungkook gave you a small shake of his head. “I don’t worry about people. I’m only worried about you.”

The warm fuzzy feelings his words gave you were too much for you to bear, so you pushed them away by pulling him closer, crashing your lips into his. Jungkook wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you flush up against his chest. You could feel his cock still hard against your leg and it reminded you that this whole situation felt so foreign to you. Never had you been pleasured by a man who expected nothing in return.

“You are art, you know that? A fucking masterpiece,” Jungkook sighed against your lips, pulling away to nuzzle against your neck.

“Jungkook.”

“Yes, baby?” There was that fucking nickname again making your pussy flutter back to life.

Instead of answering him, you reached down to grab his cock. He groaned against your throat as you gave him a few slow pumps. He’d taken care of you just as he’d promised, and now you hoped he’d let you take care of him. Not because you felt obligated to, but because you genuinely wanted to.

Wordlessly, Jungkook rolled you onto your back so that he was hovering over you, his forearms on either side of your head.

“I want you so bad,” he growled against your ear, hips rolling into your open legs.

“What are you waiting for?” you whispered.

“Fuck…”

You blinked and he was no longer on top of you. Instead he was rummaging through the drawer of his nightstand, eventually pulling out a shiny square packet. For someone normally so calm, Jungkook’s fingers were shaking with need as he rolled the condom on.

“Is this okay?” He returned to his position between your legs as you laid on your back. Your heart stung at his thoughtfulness, shocked that he was asking you what position you wanted him in. You nodded, spreading your legs wider for him. Jungkook ran his fingers along the inside of your thighs, his head dipped down so his bangs fell forward, partially obstructing your view of his face.

You gasped when you felt something wet hit your cunt. He’d spit on you. You could feel the extra lubrication slide down your folds and the lewd act made you shiver. Sure, maybe that was fairly tame for some people, but it had your head reeling.

Holding the base of his cock, Jungkook rubbed the tip along your folds, further smearing his spit and your arousal together.

“If you want to stop, just tell me,” he said hoarsely, and that was the warning you got before he was sinking his cock into your entrance.

Despite how relaxed and turned on you felt, the stretch was considerable. You tensed for a moment and Jungkook froze, his eyes meeting yours. With a nod of approval from you, he pushed himself in further, finally bottoming out and holding the position as he waited for you to adjust. You felt so unbelievably full with him inside of you and the pressure of him against your walls was enough to make your legs shake once again.

After giving you a bit of time, Jungkook began to move his hips, starting with slow but long strokes that got increasingly deeper.

“Oh god,” he moaned, head hanging down so he could watch his cock disappear into your cunt over and over again. After a while he lifted one of your legs to rest it on his shoulder so he could adjust his angle to thrust into you that much deeper, and the next slam of his body into yours that had his cock make direct contact with your g-spot made you scream.

“Shit, Y/N, Yoongi’s gonna kill us if you keep screaming like that,” Jungkook said with a grin that very much made it seem like he wouldn’t mind dying for such an offense.

“You… just feel s-so g-good,” you cried out, your nails clawing at Jungkook’s arms as you searched for something to hold on to.

He couldn’t possibly have been concerned considering he only thrusted into you even harder. The thing about Jungkook, though, was that he was going hard but he was going slow. He was savoring every time he slid into you, savoring the glisten of his cock as he pulled out. Turning his head to the side, he kissed the leg he’d draped over his shoulder, one hand running down the smooth skin while his other held on tightly to your hip to keep you in place.

“Fuck, yes baby,” Jungkook groaned. He pressed his fingers against your mouth, gently prying your lips open to stick his thumb in your mouth. The action surprised you, but you obediently sucked on his thumb until he was pulling away again. Reaching between you, he pressed his now wet thumb against your clit and began rubbing circles as he fucked you.

You whined at the sudden stimulation, your walls fluttering around his cock as your breathing turned into panting. “I’m gonna…” you let out another moan, your walls clenching around Jungkook’s cock. “I’m gonna come again.”

“That’s right, come on my cock for me, baby. Let go for me.”

How could Jungkook make dirty talk sound so alluring? So supportive? It was just like his writing, a gentle lullaby of filth. From the look he’d given you earlier, you knew there was a less tame side of him you’d yet to tap into. The memory of his poem flooded your mind, daring you to take things a step further… she likes to wear my hand as a choker…

Reaching out, you grabbed the hand that was holding onto your hip and brought it to rest on your neck. You saw that same wild look flash in Jungkook’s eyes once again, and you knew the action had affected him because his thrusting faltered for a moment. With your lips slightly parted, you tilted your head back slightly to expose more of your throat for him. Jungkook wasn’t sure he’d ever seen a sight more beautiful.

“Shit, you keep acting up like this I’m gonna fall in love,” he grunted, biting down hard on his bottom lip as he opened up his palm to get a firm grip on your neck. As he resumed his rhythmic thrusting, he squeezed your throat. At first, the decrease in oxygen had you gasping in your body’s natural drive for self-preservation. Once your body and mind adjusted, though, you succumbed to the way your body tingled with excitement. When you moaned, your eyes fluttering and rolling back, Jungkook applied even more pressure.

You’d never imagined you’d have another orgasm somewhere inside of you so soon after the first, but you were convulsing around Jungkook’s cock just as he asked you to, calling out his name in the sweetest song.

It wasn’t long before his thrusts became sloppier and his grip on your throat became almost too tight. The string of profanity he growled in your ear as he came made you shiver. Was it really possible that you affected him so deeply?

Jungkook hovered over you for a moment, attempting to catch his breath.

“I think that’s the hardest I ever came in my life,” he said weakly, finally mustering up enough strength to pull himself out of you. He left the bed to throw away the soiled condom, you musing at his cute little butt as he sauntered away.

“You’re welcome,” you said with a grin, though the hoarseness of your voice startled you. You pressed your hand against your throat and winced, not because your throat hurt, but because of the way Jungkook looked at you with deep concern.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked softly, climbing into bed beside you.

“Please,” you sighed, snuggling against Jungkook’s chest. “You did me too good.”

“I’ll fucking do you again, too, if you don’t stop rubbing your thighs against me,” he murmured in your ear, causing you to chuckle lightly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

A loud knock on the door made you jump, your arm instinctually covering your chest though you knew Jungkook had locked the door.

“What the fuck,” he whispered, silently willing whoever it was to go away.

The knocking continued, this time a bit more aggressively.

“Open up, bro, the light’s on. I know you’re in there,” Taehyung complained from the other side of the door. “You’ve still got my pen.”

Your eyes grew wide as you looked at Jungkook.

With a groan, Jungkook got out of bed once again. Grabbing the basketball shorts you’d been wearing, he pulled them on and snagged Taehyung’s vape pen from where it sat atop his dresser. He didn’t bother to put a shirt on or fix his sex hair.

“Wait,” you whispered. “What about me?”

“I don’t give a fuck,” Jungkook spoke at a normal volume as if to demonstrate how serious he was about not caring if Taehyung saw you there.

“Seriously, JK?” Taehyung clearly thought Jungkook’s comment had been directed towards him.

You quickly grabbed Jungkook’s t-shirt and pulled it on seconds before Jungkook swung the bedroom door open.

You watched Taehyung’s eyes slowly scan over Jungkook’s appearance. His mouth twisted as though he were about to speak, but then he locked eyes with you where you still sat in Jungkook’s bed, probably looking just as fucked out as Jungkook did.

“Here.” Jungkook dropped the vape in Taehyung’s open palm. “Need anything else?”

Taehyung’s eyes made their way back to Jungkook and whatever snarky comment he’d been prepared to make before was now gone.

“Nah, that’s it, thanks.”

After a week of being exclusive with Jungkook, you felt the need to loop your roomates into the whole situation. Courtney and Amiriah were your best friends, after all. The three of you had been your own Golden Trio since day one freshman year, ending up in the same peer mentor group. The first time you’d all hung out together you’d gone to an off-campus frat party. Barely an hour in and Courtney had been throwing her guts up right into the pool. Needless to say, the three of you had never gone back to that house. As horrifying as it was, you felt like it painted the perfect picture of your relationship. You were all in it for the long haul, no matter how messy.

But now you had to tell them you were dating the weird guy.

You kept looking at your phone, checking the time. The two should have been out of their sorority meeting by now, which meant they could arrive at your dorm at any moment. Waiting was nerve-racking. You gnawed on a hangnail, only pulling your gaze from your phone when you felt Jungkook’s strong arms wrap around your waist. He pulled you into his lap on the couch and leaned into you, lightly brushing his lips along your neck, making you shiver.

“Why do you act like you’re having me meet your parents?” he asked with a small chuckle.

“Courtney and Amiriah are important to me,” you started, trying to find the correct words to explain your friends. “They’re also really… judgmental, but because they care about me. And they don’t trust men.” Which was fair. You did your best to look out for them as well.

Jungkook hummed in response but didn’t speak. That didn’t surprise you. A man of few words, you knew he liked to have time to decide how he felt or what he wanted to say about things.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” you announced, standing up. Jungkook nodded and leaned back into the couch. Was it a good thing that he didn’t seem nervous?

Of course the moment you entered the bathroom, Courtney and Amiriah came bustling through the front door. Their loud chatter quickly halted when their eyes fell upon Jungkook lounging on your couch, legs spread and tattooed arm draped across the back of the couch.

“Hey,” he greeted them with a grin and a nod of his head.

“Oh, um, hi?” Courtney’s greeting was more of a question.

“Where’s Y/N?” What Amiriah wanted to ask was how he even got into your dorm, but she didn’t want to be rude.

“I’m here!” You shuffled into the room, giving your friends a little wave. “Jungkook wanted to hang out here for a change.”

The boy quirked his eyebrow at you and gave you an amused smile, noticing how you’d made it sound like it was his idea when it most certainly had been yours. Not that it bothered him. If anything, he wanted you to deflect onto him. He’d told you he could take anything you needed to give him, and he’d meant it.

Jungkook got up from his seat and walked over to the three of you, hands in the front pockets of his jeans. The pose made his biceps and chest more prominent, and you couldn’t help but stare for a moment. God, he was too pretty.

“I feel bad it’s the first time I’m finally meeting you,” he said in a warm voice. “Y/N never shuts up about how great you two are. Pretty sure I’ve heard the story of The Great Edible Debacle at the Dolph concert about fifty times.”

You were shocked by how charming he was being. Really laying it on thick.

“That is a horrible story to be telling people, Y/N! What the fuck,” Amiriah said with a laugh. “We’re only a little bit insane.”

“And stupid,” Courtney chimed in.

The four of you continued your bantering as you lounged around the living room, snacking on some food your roommates had brought as leftovers from their sorority meeting. Jungkook fit into the conversation rather neatly, talking a lot more than you’d expected, but still knowing when to sit back and let the girls dominate the conversation. He sat with his arm around your waist, keeping you close but not dipping into any PDA, knowing it would bother you if he did.

The conversation came to a pause when Jungkook’s phone began to ring, all three pairs of eyes pointed in his direction.

“Ah, fuck. Tae’s calling me,” he mumbled. “I’ll be right back.” As he stood up, he cupped your face for a moment, running his thumb across your cheek before he was bringing his phone to his ear.

“Hyungie, what’s up?” Jungkook stepped out into the hallway, closing the front door behind him.

“Girl, are y’all fucking?!” Amiriah leaned forward with a harsh whisper, excitement dancing in her bright eyes.

“We’re dating, actually.”

Courtney let out a squeal, bouncing on her knees where she sat on a pillow on the floor, wrapped in a fluffy blanket. “I knew it, I totally knew it.”

“I’m gonna admit, weird or not, that man is foine now that I’m seeing him up close.” Amiriah loudly sucked her teeth and shook her head. “He’s got that snatched little waist. And those thighs? He could smash a watermelon.”

“Okay, okay, but we gotta ask the REAL question here.” Courtney was now plopping down on the couch between you and Amiriah, blanket still in tow. “Did he eat it right?? In the words of Nicki Minaj, do he got good form??”

You slapped Courtney on the arm in protest, but you were grinning as you spoke. “I almost started crying, it was so good.”

“WHEW girl, stop it,” Amiriah grabbed your arm and shook it. “Are you willing to share? For charity?”

Before you could scold your friend for trying to get her hands on your man, Jungkook returned. The shift in the room’s atmosphere was palpable, and the way Courtney and Amiriah watched Jungkook with new interest was almost too obvious.

He gave you a confused smile as he squeezed onto the couch next to you.

“So, Jungkook,” Amiriah began and you prayed to God she wouldn’t say anything stupid. “You said you heard stories about us, but we didn’t talk about all the fun things we’ve heard about you!”

You shot your friend a glare but she was already on a roll with Courtney on her heels.

“Yeah, we’ve heard all about your poetry,” Courtney added.

You don’t think your roommates were prepared for the low chuckle that rumbled from Jungkook nor for the dark look in his eyes as he turned to you. He grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers, and you silently pleaded with him to behave.

“Yeah, I was trying to give Y/N a preview of what she could be getting.”

“Jungkook,” you gasped and your friends started talking all at once, but all you could focus on was the way your boyfriend was smirking at you, his tongue playing with his lip ring how he knew you liked.

He leaned into you, his lips ghosting your ear and sending goosebumps up your arms as he whispered,

“Just wait until you come over tonight.”

Living with Jungkook meant living with the constant smell of paint. Sure, you only just moved in together less than a week ago, but that was certainly long enough to know. And you were already finding little splatters on the floor and in the kitchen sink.

Living with Jungkook also meant that you were required to use the word magnets on the refrigerator to write him a poem every morning, just like he was going to write one for you. This was established as a house rule while the two of you discussed whether it would be a good idea to live together.

You thought the rules were going to be about who does the laundry, but you had to remember, this was Jungkook.

You tiptoed around the cardboard boxes full of all the stuff you two moved in with, but had yet to unpack. The hardwood floors glistened in the afternoon sunlight streaming through the flimsy blinds. Specks of dust glittered the air.

Jungkook was laying out a tarp in the entranceway of the apartment. An array of paint cans were placed around the tarp to hold it down.

“JK, what are you doing?” you inquired with your hands on your hips.

“Painting,” he said with a simple smile before turning back to his work. It was then that you noticed a large tray with fresh paint, and a variety of brushes sticking out of Jungkook’s pockets.

“Here? This wall is the first thing people see when they walk in,” you pointed out. Leave it to Jungkook to start on a project before he’d even unpacked all his underwear.

“That’s the point.” He didn’t look at you as he spoke, instead focused on mixing the color he wanted.

You let out a small sigh. This man…

“What are you going to do? Please, I beg of you, please do not paint genitalia of any kind.” It wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy your boyfriend’s artwork. You were obsessed with his creativity, actually. It was part of what made you fall for him. But there was no denying that he was… unconventional in his taste.

Jungkook let out a chuckle, his nose scrunched up and his cute front teeth exposed. It was the laugh that meant he thought you were being ridiculous.

“It’s gonna be something even better.”

That was not reassuring at all.

“Jungkook, my parents are coming to visit in a week!”

Setting his brush down in silence, Jungkook extended his arm to hook a tattooed finger through the belt loop of your shorts. You begrudgingly let him pull you forward until you were pressed against his chest. Your arms circled his tiny waist and you forgot you were supposed to be annoyed with him when he started caressing your head, careful not to mess up your hair.

“I’m gonna paint a mural of my muse,” he said in the wispy tone his voice took on when he was thinking through his plans. “That’s you, in case you didn’t know.”

You lifted your head to look up at him, your chin resting on his chest. “No.”

“What?!”

“You are not putting up some kind of shrine for me in the middle of the apartment.”

“Why can’t I let everyone know that I worship you?” Jungkook whined, letting go of you. You weren’t prepared to be set free, though, and you stumbled backwards. With wide eyes, Jungkook grabbed a handful of your shirt to stop you from falling, but it was too late. Your foot stepped directly into one of his open paint cans.

“JUNGKOOK!” you shrieked, lifting up your foot to see gloopy red paint drip from your toes.

Jungkook’s cheeks grew puffy as he tried to hold in his laughter while he searched for his towels. It was a failed attempt, though, and you were glowering even harder as you watched the laugh come bursting from inside him.

“I’m-,” Jungkook wheezed, holding out a paint-stained towel for you. He was laughing so hard his hand shook. “I’m s-sorry, baby, I-”

He abruptly shut up when he felt your hand swipe his cheek and a thick liquid rolled down his neck.

“That’s what you get for laughing at me!” you said with a wicked grin, admiring how you’d smeared paint all over the side of his face.

Your grin slowly fell as you watched Jungkook lean down to drag his fingers through his tray of baby blue paint.

“Don’t you dare,” you warned, pointing your finger at him.

“What? I’m not doing anything.” Jungkook gave you the sweetest smile and reached for your legs. You felt his wet hands slide down your bare thighs and you shrieked again as he threw you over his shoulder.

“Put me down! Kookie, you’re going to get paint all over the floor.” You gently beat his back with your fists, but your laughter made your actions less convincing.

“Me? You’re the one ruining my painting area.” He tried brushing his bangs out of his eyes, but ended up smearing paint across his forehead and into his hair. “Now I have to clean my baby up.”

You could hear the pout in his voice as he carried you down the hallway to the bathroom, dripping red and blue paint. The two of you were certainly going to leave your mark on this place.

@rkiveslibrary @mar-lo-pap

#bts fanfic #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #bts fluff #bts smut #bts angst #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #gimmethatagustd #paint me naked #pmn

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nevershootamockingbird · 14 hours ago

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[ Image One: A screenshot of a reddit post that reads: "AITAH for "training" a guy "like a dog"?

I (23F) have recently started seeing this guy (26M). he's super pretty, but he's kind of emotionally unavailable and he's alluded to an unstable/ unhealthy childhood.

for context, i also work w socializing abused and neglected dogs at a local shelter and i think about how much time i spend w the dogs is impacting the way i interact w ppl.

when we were on a date i started subconsciously making mental notes abt him like the notes id make abt a dog. for example, i noticed when we went out to dinner and i noticed he ate really quickly and was very anti-sharing (resource guarding) but when i offered to pay and suggested dessert it seemed to make him really happy and a little calmer (food-motivated); he likes when i pick where we go/ what we do (eager to please), etc. so, ive started using the tactics id use on a dog w similar problems.

recently a friend (22F) pointed out that it's weird that i keep peanut M&Ms on me w the specific purpose of offering the guy one when i see him, and offering them again whenever i can tell he feels vulnerable. she said that im being an asshole bc he's a person, not a dog so i shouldn't be "training him like one."

i don't think thats fair, im not trying to control him or anything, i just want him to feel comfortable w me the same way i need the animals im helping to be comfortable w me. humans and animals aren't THAT diff after all, we all just want to feel safe and cared for. the guy hasn't noticed yet as far as i can tell. the problem is, my "technique" is yielding really positive results.

AITAH? should i stop?"

Image Two: A screenshot of a reddit post that reads: "UPDATES/ CLARIFICATIONS

for everyone asking me if i've seen the big bang theory ep w this plotline: i have not

for everyone saying they think i am autistic: probably, yeah. i haven't been tested but maybe i should

i do not have loose m&ms in my pocket bc then they'd get all melty and gross - i keep them in a bag in my purse

ik the title was clickbait-y so i want to make some things clear. i didn't think of it as "training" til my friend said it was like i was training him, and that made me feel weird (and it's why i made the post)

i am not and never have been trying to "modify" behavior. what i noticed in him and what i notice in animals were stress responses. we only get aggressive over our food if we believe someone's gonna take it away. we get defensive over our spaces if we reasonably feel like they'll be violated. applies to both animals and ppl. i was trying to establish trust the way i best know how to lol

if he never shared fries and never wanted to park next to a car w wide doors again, that'd be fine w me tbh. i know he's not a dog, so he's not at risk of being euthanized or something"

Image Three: A screenshot of a reddit post that reads: "ON TO THE UPDATE PROPER YAY!"

so, to all of the ppl who told me i should tell him what im doing - you were right and that's what i did. turns out i was VERY WRONG abt him not noticing what i was doing - he apparently put two and two together pretty quickly after i started doing it. he didn't tell me he was on to me tho, bc he liked it and was worried id get embarrassed and stop if i knew that he knew. so we talked it out and it ended up not being a very big deal at all and im probably gonna keep having m&ms bc they're good. that's all i got for yall lol" / End ID ]

sickens me to my stomach. how dare this guy get to live my dream.

#long post #god. incredible. you love to see it #sloane tag #going both ways #fly me away tag #and this too can be melangdon etc etc #q

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frightfullytreeish · 14 hours ago

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buck has jee-yun for the day and eddie tags along bc he's feeling wistful for when christopher was that age, and inevitably they end up in a claire's accessories where jee demands one of these bad boys because she's started pre-school now and has a Best Friend

but then because 5 year olds are tyrants she demands that buck and eddie also need to get one and she stares at them until they put it on. and they're both like haha okay if the lady insists! ;) and they fight a little over who gets to be best and who is relegated to friend (you should be friend, buck tells eddie, purple looks good on you) and then they put on their necklaces and chuckle a little, while jee nods in approval, and for the rest of the day whenever they catch sight of their necklaces (hard to miss, very sparkly) they grin at each other

and then they take jee back home and life goes on and when buck's alarm goes off the next morning he knocks the necklace off his bedside table while grabbing for his phone, and he decides it'll be funny to wear it to work as he is best after all. when he gets to the station chim clocks it immediately, oh he says you two are adorable, and buck turns to see eddie in the changing room also with his half of the sparkly heart. they fistbump (obviously) and then fit the two halves of the heart together (obviously), which means leaning in really close as these necklaces were intended for children not big beefy firefighter necks, close enough that their faces end up a little smooshed together and buck says we uhh we might need longer chains and eddie shrugs and says I dunno I kinda like it and he pats buck's pendant where it sits in the hollow of his neck

Also bobby is there

#9-1-1 #buddie #weewoo husbands (i'm sorry)#anyway obviously they end up fucking whilst staring intensely at their necklaces #buck feels some feelings about this stupid sparkly half a heart next to saint christopher #bobby is not present for this part but he remains 100% alive

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ssapphosviolets · 3 days ago

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Acts of Service

Sevika x gf!reader

Inspired by part of my recent work:

Sevika's job is cruel and grueling, but providing small acts of service makes her feel like a normal person at the end of the day. It's a reminder to herself that she's a lover, that she hasn't lost her way of caring, that she is more than her job. If it was up to her, her girlfriend wouldn't ever have to lift a finger again.

or; Sevika's acts of service

(lowk adhd coded reader bc samesies)

.oOo.

Sevika sighs when she steps foot into her and her partners shared closet, or should she say stepped foot onto her partners clothes. She sighs; not out of annoyance or frustration, maybe a little out of inconvenience, but she's unable to feel any real malice behind it. She's always known, even before moving in together, how forgetful and messy her partner could be.

Messy isn't Sevika's choice of words though. Her girlfriend certainly isn't dirty or slobbish. She just has a tendency to become very easily distracted, often leaving traces of her forgetfulness behind as her brain had already moved on to its next task. Maybe disorganized was a better word. But that didn't seem right either. It's not the first time Sevika has failed to capture her partner in words though.

It's not uncommon that there's forgotten clothes left behind as her girlfriend rushed to get ready for work earlier that morning. Or that there's jackets and sweaters left on the couch and the backs of chairs that had been forgotten about. Or that only Sevika's side of the bathroom sink has more than an inch of visible counter space. Or that there's a pile of laundry sitting on top of the dryer that her partner swore she would put away "tomorrow".

Sevika loves this about her partner. While at first her girlfriend was shameful of this forgetfulness, always profusely apologizing at the realization of her mess, Sevika had done more than enough to reassure her that she really doesn't mind. Sometimes to this day her partner does feel apologetic, but it's no longer from guilt or anxiety, it's more so out of frustration with herself.

Sevika appreciates that it gives her an easy service to do. For most people, coming home from work to almost tripping over a small pile of clothes would be enough to set them off. When Sevika comes home from a long day to a pile of clothes, she uses this task to allow herself a release from that hard and rough front she puts on all day at her job. It took 10 seconds to put away her girlfriend's clothes, and 10 seconds to be reminded of who she really is. She's still a human who has the ability to do no harm. Who is not only capable of loving, but also of being loved.

This mess is an indicator of her and her girlfriend's safety. She's safe, in their own home, where expectations and pressures are non-existent. Her girlfriend is safe, even feels safe enough to leave a mess in the first place. The ability to let yourself be messy around someone is something only a deep trust can bring about.

Sevika turns those 10 seconds into 30 as she chooses to fold up one of her own shirts, placing it on top of her girlfriend's side for when she gets home from work.

.oOo.

While her partner may be forgetful, Sevika always remembered. She never minded having to remember for the both of them. Though sometimes the questions of "Do you know where-?" can get quite repetitive, Sevika knows it's only asked because her girlfriend knows she has it handled. Sevika takes great pride in the underlying confidence and trust that her girlfriend has in her to take care of things.

"Do you know where my lighter is?" Sevika looks up from her place on the couch, where her eyes were buried in a book. "You have probably 10 around the house, babe. Which one?" She easily averts all of her attention towards her partner, not minding the interruption one bit. Not from her, at least.

"I don't know, just any of them?" She hears the opening and closing of drawers as she searches. Sevika sighs and shifts, her hand grasping onto the circular clipper lighter, and she gets a quick flash of pink and grey in between her fingers as she pulls it out. It's one of her girlfriend's lighters, to be exact.

"Here, Hun." She holds the lighter above her head so the girl can see it from behind the couch. She hears the immediate footsteps on the creaking wood of their living room, until the lighter is gleefully snatched from Sevika's fingers. Her partner leans over the back of the couch, pressing a kiss to the top of Sevika's head. Sevika's own hand snakes around to hold the back of her girlfriend's neck, and she tilts her head up to capture her lips before she has a chance to pull away.

"I want that one back though, it's always my backup for when you lose your other nine." Sevika teases, nothing but adoration showing through not only her eyes but her tone as well. She can't hide the smile that graces her dark tinted lips when she sees how flustered the girl gets.

.oOo.

Sevika has a love-hate relationships with mornings. She loves the quiet moments she spends with her girlfriend as they get ready together, but hates when they inevitably have to part ways for the day. So she cherishes every second of their quiet mornings.

She finally rolls out of bed when the bathroom light has remained on for a couple minutes too long, sleepily trudging through their shared bedroom to reach the light. She's met with her favorite sight: her girlfriend leaned over the sink as she does her makeup for the day.

Sevika was never one for makeup, but there was something so attractive to her about watching a partner do it. Maybe it was because she loves the femininity of it, or maybe it was the intimacy of being allowed to share such an important part of a daily routine with someone. She's too tired to really consider the "why's" at the moment.

She takes a step towards her girlfriend and presses her own front to her back, her arms wrapping around the girls waist. Sevika watches in the mirror as her girlfriend's smile grows. "Morning, Vika." Her partner mumbles tiredly, adoringly. "Morning, hun." Sevika responds in a similar tone.

She stays where she is as she watches her girlfriend brush on her mascara, before deciding she should stop being a lovesick little puppy and actually help out a bit. She pulls back only slightly, just enough to reach for the necklace laying down on the counter beside her. The necklace her girlfriend has had for years, that one piece of staple jewelry that she is never seen without.

Sevika wordlessly wraps it around her girlfriend's front, and carefully clasps it around her neck. Her girlfriend had moved on to her lipstick by the time the chain and charm rested firmly against her chest. Sevika grabs her rings next, and once she's sure her girlfriend can finish her task with a single hand, she softly grabs the other in her own.

She slides on each of the rings, knowing the exact placement of each one. She intertwines her fingers as the last ring is in place, and repeats the same process on her other hand as soon as the lipstick is set back down on the counter. Not a single word has to be spoken, but when they lock eyes in the bathroom mirror, a silent appreciation is made known.

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neeeooon · 3 days ago

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shut me up ;

34 | unread text messages

ft. fem!reader & shidou, isagi, chigiri, nagi, kunigami, reo, bachira, sae, rin, kurona, kaiser

cw. cussing, depictions of injury, angst (IM SORRY), lots of comfort i promise, boobs mentioned (once)

“the internet thinks you’re dead. or pregnant. maybe both?” bachira said with a shrug before tossing his phone onto your couch.

you sighed through your mouth, wincing slightly when you tapped on the bandages around your face and nose. the bruising along your under eyes had subsided, but was still noticeable.

bachira gave your shoulder a squeeze and handed you a water bottle with a straw in it, smiling when you thanked him. “does it still hurt?” he asked.

“a little. it’s more sore than painful, though. did the guys say when they’re coming over?”

“are you ignoring the fact that the internet thinks you’re dead or pregnant?”

“yes,” you stated, grinning a little when you caught his eye. “the guys?” as if on cue, your front door was kicked in (it was already open), and shidou appeared with a very tired-looking itoshi duo behind him. when he saw the bandages and bruising around your eyes, his smile faltered. shidou did his best to put it back a second later and crashed onto the couch beside you.

“y/n, looking as gorgeous as ever!” he kissed the back of your hand, eyes softening when you laughed.

“whatever. are we having movie night or what? where are the others?”

sae placed two pizzas on your counter and searched around for the paper plates. “isagi and kurona went to get drinks. i reminded them no cans, you baby.” he said it like an insult, but the smile he sent over his shoulder told you otherwise.

“and kaiser?” the question slipped out before you could stop yourself, and it got quiet. frustration hit you hard enough to re-break your nose, and you sank deeper into the cushions.

shidou gave your thigh a squeeze and leaned forward so only you (and bachira, who was hovering on your left) could hear. “honey… i think you should leave it.”

your eyes burned. you hadn’t heard from kaiser since the incident. not a peep. all you knew was that he was back from the hospital and locked up in his room. he must have been sleeping in his living room, because your bedroom wall was silent.

bachira nuzzled his nose against your bare shoulder. “we don’t want you to get hurt again because of him.” you wanted to argue that it wasn’t because of him, but shidou beat you to it.

“you know it’s not his fault. it’s that crummy dad of his.”

“who he keeps in his life by sending him checks every month. of course, the dude’s gonna reach out when his source of income suddenly ghosts him.”

“what should he have done instead?”

“not get involved with our friend when he knew his dad was going to retaliate? warn her? go to the police like we’ve been saying he should do for years?”

you stood up and moved to a barstool in the kitchen, where the brothers were silently picking at their food. they stared at you for so long you felt a third eye growing. “what?” you snapped. at least, you wanted to sound snappy. instead, your voice came out stuffy and sad.

sae took the open stool next to you and gently nudged your hand with his. “it’s best if you forget about him for now.”

that’s it. pushing yourself away from the counter, you walked into your bedroom and locked the door behind you. your eyes ached as you cried, tears dampening the bandages and leaving hot trails in their wake. all you wanted to know was if he was okay. the not knowing, paired with the constant advice to leave him be, made your chest hurt and your head spin. you wanted to see him, even if it meant having him see you bruised, just as you were.

a quiet double-knock on your door made you wipe delicately at your face, and when you cracked the door open, kurona slipped in without inquiry. you opened your mouth to ask if he needed something when kurona suddenly pulled you into his chest for a hug. you stood, shocked, as he awkwardly patted your back.

“he’s okay,” he whispered, and you sucked in a breath so sharp it stung your lungs. “it’s okay to love someone like him.”

the breath left your lips as a choked sob. you threw your arms around kurona, hands gripping his shirt to stabilize yourself.

☆ 🎸

kurona helped you clean yourself up and pretend like nothing happened when you finally calmed down. he had to borrow one of your oversized band tees since his was wet with tears. the guys didn’t speak much the rest of the night, all focused on the film except for isagi, who let you fall asleep on him after noticing the puffiness not caused by your broken nose. the bandmates cleaned up as you napped, and isagi woke you up only after they’d all left.

“they’re kind of split,” isagi commented when he noticed you scrolling through your numerous unread messages to kaiser. you looked up to find him gnawing on his bottom lip. “i don’t know what’s gonna happen, but i know everything will be okay. we were able to send his dad to a holding cell in germany with all of our statements, right? even if kaiser doesn’t press charges, that… thing isn’t here anymore.”

“then why is kaiser still ignoring me?” you asked, breathlessly. “i like him, isagi. i care about him. i want him to be okay, and knowing he’s cut me out hurts.”

isagi stopped chewing his lip to run his tongue over it anxiously. he helped you stand and leaned against your bedroom door as you searched for some pajamas, awaiting his reply. isagi turned around so you could change and rubbed awkwardly at his nape. “i won’t say i know kaiser better than the guys, but i’ve known him longer. i know he uses his sex appeal or whatever as a way to cope with his past and how shitty life can be. i know he stopped when he got to know you, and i know he cut contact with his dad as a way to move past everything.”

you paused your movements to listen.

“i don’t know if kaiser is capable of feeling love for anything, not even himself, but i know he feels something for you. it’s strong enough to make him fight back in his own way.”

you didn’t want to cry anymore, but your voice wobbled dangerously as you asked, “is that why he won’t see me? cause i remind him of… of him?”

isagi spun around on instinct and thanked every higher being that you were completely dressed. “no, what?” he stepped forward and hugged your shoulders. “dude, no. never. i think kaiser is ashamed of how things went down. he may ever think he’s the reason you got hurt.”

“but he’s not—“

“i know that. i don’t think he knows that, no matter how much we tell him otherwise.”

your vision shook as you bumped your head against isagi’s collar. “i hate this.”

“i know. i’m sorry.” he gave you one last squeeze before pulling away. “also… not that it’s any of my business, but you should probably text your friends. i think they’re about ten hours away from calling the police to report you missing.”

☆ 🎸

“y/n!” chigiri screamed into the phone, snatching it out of nagi’s hands before the white-haired guy could even open his mouth. “what the fuck?! why are you ignoring us? why are the bastardz postponing their show?! where have you been?!”

releasing a shaky sigh for only you to hear, you angled the camera toward your face. you watched as chigiri’s face dropped. “y/n…”

the phone was snatched back and froze in nagi’s grip. you watched your best friend work his jaw as he tried to keep himself calm. “who. i’ll kill them.”

“nobody you know, i promise.” you pushed a hand through your hair and glanced at your picture on facetime. you’d taken the bandage off, but the bruising around your nose wasn’t too bad. the top was still a little swollen, and it was your eyes that gave away that something had broken.

reo gently pried the phone from nagi’s now-trembling grip and forced a smile to his face. “nothing a little makeup can’t fix.” he turned away from the camera and flinched when the sound of a door slamming echoed through your phone. you watched him swallow before facing you again, angling the phone so that chigiri appeared with an orange cat.

you gasped. “is that garby? he’s so big!”

the duo successfully managed to distract you with the cat for nearly ten minutes before somebody started abusing your doorbell. you glanced at chigiri and reo, who were giving you tense smiles through the screen.

“he was really worried,” reo said, and you stood up with the phone in your hand.

“i’ll text you guys later, i promise.”

“don’t forget!”

placing your phone down, you opened your door and let out a surprised yelp when nagi fell against you. you bent under his weight but didn’t shove him away as he buried his face in your neck and clung to you like a sloth would a tree. “you can’t do that,” he mumbled, words muffled against your skin.

blinking, you leaned your head against his and ran your fingers through his hair. “i know. i’m sorry.”

only when you hugged him back did you realize he was shaking. “i-i know they’re your friends, too. i know you hang out with them a lot. but you’re my best friend, okay?” pulling his face from your neck, nagi looked down at you with wet eyes that immediately made you cry. “you have to tell me these things, too. if you’re hurt, i wanna know. i can’t raise choki on my own, ‘k?”

he tried for a smile, a weak one, but you jumped up to toss your arms around him and let yourself sob into his hoodie. “i’m sorry—i didn’t want to worry you. i know it sounds stupid now, but it’s true. you’re my best friend, too, sei. i love you.”

nagi ran a hand through your hair and gripped the ends as he said, “love you, too.”

☆ 🎸

nagi fell asleep on you, his head squishing your boobs like old times, but you missed him too much to complain.

laying on your bed, you stared at your chat with kaiser. there were over a dozen messages from you, all marked delivered, all asking if he was okay or willing to talk to you.

your thumbs hovered over the keys, hesitant to type out another message, when suddenly the delivered sign under your most recent message turned to ‘read.’ you watched with wide eyes as finally, finally, three bubbles appeared on his side of the screen.

masterlist // previous (ch 33) // next (ch 35)

notes -> my period must be coming cause why is kurona making me tear up UGHHH I LOVE HIM ❤️‍🩹 a lot going on this chapter, it just kept coming out idk why but hopefully you enjoyed!

tags -> @x3nafix @n0tbelle @nensi @ohagiyoo @tired-child00 @melinana @chaoslibra @kaidostwin @bubybubsters @miss-aesthetic-13 @ihsoti @arwawawa2 @lonigiri @realrintaro @mivqko @sorasushik1 @pookalicious-hq @higuchislut @tofumiarchives @p1z-d0n7jud6em3 @rainychi2 @ch4rstxr @sapph1r3x @sagging-saging @5-laska @tuna-toes @seinuis @sindulgent666 @evilari111 @newinhalerpls @kisses2kanao @sugacor3 @meizumi @90s-belladonna @meowstertruck420 @kyutiipie @ranzess @cookiesandcreammy @nevvynev @stwberri @mikeymyfav @dontmindtheevie @kaikaidenkai @mizukiblogs @ravenbc @yvanllie @cyberasterrr @lily-isalittlegirl @yourlocaleffy @hanamatopoeia

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hanquokkasjeekies · 2 days ago

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[how they react to you being angry/horny] - felix

stray kids scenarios/headcanons

idol!felix x f!reader word count: 0.7k genre: smut, established relationship, angst warnings: kissing ⋆ highly suggestive ⋆ implied sex

ot8 list

~ ~ ~

souvenir

felix is finally coming back from japan after three weeks. that means the three whole weeks of missing him would be over. and it wasn’t just missing him that had been hard; it was not being able to make him breakfast or snuggle with him in the evenings or having to sacrifice three hours of sleep each night (we all know why).

obviously you missed felix more than his dick… but having to survive on toys and your own fingers, that were nowhere near as satisfying as his, made you even more desperate to finally see him again.

it’s past 11pm and your patience is almost gone. ‘just a little longer’, you tell yourself, rubbing your thighs together, trying to get some relief.

something snaps in your brain and you hit the cushion beside you.

“where the fuck is he??” you mutter under your breath.

*click*

felix walks through the door, hair all messy and breathing heavily as he drags his bags inside.

he sees your unimpressed expression and slight pout and he knows he’s messed up.

“i’m so so sorry… we missed our flight and then the members– they made me go to karaoke with them”

a missed flight is understandable but… karaoke? and he didn’t even bother to let you know before?

you sigh, trying not to overreact and then you remember what you asked him for three weeks ago.

“wait, lix– did you get me that chocolate from japan i asked for?”

felix’s face has turned from apologetic to pure guilt. “babe, i-”

“no. you’re actually the worst.” you say before walking out of the room, hoping he doesn’t see the way your eyes are welling up.

felix stands there for a while, thinking about what to say that’ll make you believe he really did just forget; since that’s exactly what happened.

he walks in on you hidden under the sheets of his bed and sits next to the lump on the bed where you’re balled up.

there’s a long moment of silence before felix rests his hand on where (he thinks) your head is. you flinch but let him stroke your head through the sheets. you relax slightly under his touch and felix senses it, making him slightly relieved that you aren’t rejecting him completely.

“how… can i make it up to you?” he asks softly.

“I promise i’ll get you the chocolate one way or another”, he adds quickly, “but what can i do to make you forgive me?”

you sit up to face him, still wrapped in your bedsheets.

“mm, give me some options then.”

felix knows it should make him feel worse seeing you like this but you just look so gorgeous he can barely think. and who can blame him when you’re staring up at him, pouting, your eyes still wet from crying and cheeks pink from the lack of oxygen under the sheets.

he’s so busy staring at you, he nearly forgets to answer.

“um, options! yes, uhh– would you like me to bake you something? or how about we take a bath together- and i can massage you after? or, um… i could-”

“-eat me out?” you interrupt, looking up at him sweetly.

his jaw drops slightly the words leave your mouth.“yes, my gosh– yes. please, baby, i’ll make you feel so good you’ll forget all of this even happened, yeah?”

“but are you sure you don’t want something else? you don’t even have to ask for this type of thing, you know?”

“just shut up, felix. put that mouth to a better use, ‘kay?” you say, crawling into his lap.

he just nods, his tongue running over his lower lip as he turns you around so he has you face-down ass-up on the bed. he holds you up by your hips and kisses your cunt through your panties, the sweet scent already making him hard.

he can’t help moaning at how soft you feel, “fuck, baby, i’ve missed this pussy so damn much.”

“mhm i’m sure you have, lixie, so why don’t you show me just how much~ ♡”

and felix doesn't need to be told twice.

#skz imagines #skz smut #skz x reader #skz #skz scenarios #stray kids #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #skz fic #felix angst #felix smut #lee felix #felix skz #felix stray kids #skz felix #skz fanfic

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nanamisbbygirl · 1 day ago

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uv index

type: nsfw minors dni

includes: pervy best friend gojo + geto x afab!reader

summary: it was a big mistake to ask for help applying lotion at the beach, especially when you’re with geto suguru and gojo satoru.

cw: threesome, fingering, unprotected p in v, oral sex (m!reciving), cream pies, lots of fondling, public indecency and gooner behaviour lol

a/n: come get your dinner y’all i put my whole pussy into cooking it up.. enjoy!

the beach was perfect this time of year, especially with the way your skin felt as it soaked up the summer sun. you laid on your belly, as you shared the abnormally large towel with your friends, suguru and satoru.

suguru was sitting to your side, staring out at the ocean as satoru reemerged from the water, droplets dripping down his body. he met you both with a pout on his lips.

“are you guys coming in or what?” he was disappointed in the fake he seemed to be the only one enjoying the beach for what it was.

“soon,” you hummed, “let me tan a little longer.” you reached for your beach bag, pulling out some tanning lotion.

“you know that stuff isn’t good for you,” suguru grumbled.

“yeah neither is smoking” you remind him, causing him to scoff a little. although your next question appears to snap them out of their grumpy moods. “can one of you rub this on my back— i can’t reach it myself.”

both boys perked up, fighting over who would go first. suguru held the bottle in his hand, squirting the lotion along your back. they looked down at how suggestive it seemed to be, gulping, he reached forward to touch your skin.

his large hands caressed your back, massaging the tenderness of your flesh. you let out a relaxed sigh, as suguru’s hands made their way down your body.

you felt him stop at your mid back, teasing the hem of your cheeky bikini bottoms, wondering how far he should go. that’s when you felt a second pair of hands— satoru had joined in, apparently itching to have a turn.

he had lathered his hands with the tanning lotion, creeping his way up your legs, his fingers faintly lining your inner thighs.

suguru took initiative, lowering his grasp, making sure to coat every inch of you with the lotion. his fingers slipped under the thin straps that were holding your bathing suit in place, tempted to untie them.

before satoru got the chance to, his friend had claimed his spot hovering over your butt, palms pressing into your perky cheeks. his hands moved carefully in circular motions, being sure to pull at them, allowing him little peeks at your lips — you wanted to tan everywhere, right?

the black haired boy was drooling over you, once again leaving satoru to feel left out. although; he didn’t whine this time, instead leaning towards your ear while his free hand met the spot where your top tied together.

“you might want to take this off— wouldn’t want to get tan lines.” he whispered delicately, as though he wasn’t fulfilling his devious desires. you didn’t have the chance to protest as he undid your top in a blink of an eye. you hugged your breasts, hoping that nothing would slip out.

“we’re in public guys!” you squealed, as both their hands temporarily stopped. suguru and satoru looked around them.

“no one’s around, don’t worry and don’t fuss.” suguru declared, but it still put you on edge. it was hard to think straight with the stimulation they were providing you with.

satoru begins to reach for your breast, hoping that you’ll easily comply with him.

“cmon don’t you want your front side to tan a little, too?” just like that he was able to flip you effortlessly, leaving you to cling to your now ill fitted top.

you get a look at both of them, how they’re glowing in the sunlight, their swim trunks becoming extra tight. you can trace the outlines of their dicks with your eyes, holding your breath at the situation you managed to get yourself into. they both stare back at you, an animalistic urge in their eyes.

suguru splashes the lotion against your stomach then placing some into satoru’s greedy hands. it’s almost too much to take in all at once, you feel yourself wiggling around trying to pick who to focus your attention on first.

satoru rubs his hands together, making the most of the lotion suguru provided him with.

“move your arms, peach.” he laughs with the pet name. he nudges your arms and judging by the look on his face he wasn’t gonna let anything stop him from having his way.

so, you complied with satoru’s demand. you removed your arms, placing them to the side of your head, causing the bikini top to begin to slide up, revealing more of your tits. this made satoru grin.

while all this was happening, suguru was still working away, making sure every part of your body was oiled up, reflecting the sun. his hands carved out your body as if he was a sculpter, rubbing his thumbs against your hips before pressing down on your lower stomach. he continued down, outlining your cunt, carelessly running his hands under your bottoms and groping your soft butt.

he pulled you into him, forcing you to straddle his waist as he rests you on his thighs. you can feel his bulge against your pussy, it’s driving you crazy how close you are but how distant your pleasure seems to be.

you can no longer pay attention to suguru, as you feel your nipples being gently rolled around in satoru’s fingers. he gives them cheeky little pinches before kneading your breast, squishing them with his huge hands.

“fuck you’re so hot,” suguru mutters, grinding up and drown, chasing the friction between the two of you. you whimper as satoru fondles your breasts, flashing his friend a mischievous look.

“she seems pretty desperate doesn’t she?” satoru asks suguru. “as if this wasn’t her plan the whole time. do you think we should give her the attention she wants?” he says this without missing a motion, taking as much of your boobs into his hands as possible. you can tell by the way he licks his lips he wants to put them in his mouth, but he’s holding back, as if to get suguru’s opinion on the matter.

“depends,” he huffs, holding onto your hips, “how bad does she want it?” they talk about you like you’re not even there, as though you’re not already in such a vulnerable state for them.

“whaddya think, peach? what should we do?” satoru looks down as you, holding your left breast tightly as he anticipates your response.

“i.. i want more,” you say, but it’s not the response he’s looking for as he pinches your nipple.

“gotta try harder than that: be specific.”

you take a shaky breath, looking back at suguru to see if there’s any sympathy and maybe he would be kinder without having you embarrass yourself more in front of your friends.

“you heard what he said, peach, tell us what you want.”

throwing your head back, you gulp: “please fuck me.” you start, “use me however you want.” you say it quietly the first time, which again, was not to their liking.

suguru leaned forwards, slapping your one breast, “say it loud and clear, or else you get nothing.” his stern tone make a chill roll down your hot back.

“i want you to use me,” you say, choking back a whimper, “to fuck me— both of you. please?” your lip quivered, making satoru let out a deep chuckle.

“well how can we say no? considering you asked so nicely.”

with that, suguru pushed your bottoms to the side, starting out with a single finger. he started at your hole, making his way up to your clit and then back down again.

“shit satoru, she’s so fucking wet.” he circles your open, making you twitch. he sinks the first finger into you, feeling just how your cunt clung to him, gushing all over his wrist.

“greedy girl,” he mumbled under his breath, adding a second finger. his hand flicked up, pumping in and out while satoru finally locked his lips against your breasts.

pecking them with kisses, his groans vibrated onto your skin, as he licked his way towards your nipple.

“feels so good,” you moan, feeling how your walls pulse around suguru. it was pure bliss, basking in the pleasure that was crashing over you like a wave.

“m close” you informed them as that familiar knot began forming in your stomach. just as you prepared for the best, suguru’s rhythm stopped.

“not yet, you haven’t even felt my cock yet.” you let out an embarrasing whine. suguru takes one of the fingers that was just inside you and glides his tongue across it, humming about how good you taste. “try it satoru.”

the white haired boy listened, detaching his hungry lips from your nipples and reattached them to suguru’s finger.

“mm—you’re right, so sweet!” he began a palming at his swim shorts, tired of the built up tension. suguru feels the same, and you hold your breath as they reveal what they’d been hiding all along.

both of them having their bathing suits pulled down just enough to expose their dripping cocks. both of them are long, although suguru’s seems to be a little bit thicker. their tips are flushing, sticky with precum, anticipating just how roughly they’re gonna use you.

suguru flips you on your stomach again, and you’re face to watch with satoru’s cock. his angry head stares down at you, making your mouth water with the way he strokes it.

from behind you, suguru drags his dick against your pussy, rubbing a circle into you swollen clit.

“please fuck me su, please” you beg, and they both laugh at how needy you’ve become for your friends.

“looks like she’s already learning how to be a good slut,” suguru exclaims, lining himself up with your tight cunt.

he slams his hips into you, grabbing your waist and driving you deeper and deeper on his cock. your eyes feel like they’re rolling behind your head, and your mouth falls open only for it to be filled by satoru.

he starts with his thumb, like he’s checking just how wet your mouth is. you swirl his digit on your tongue, fluttering your eyes open in order to look up at him. he can sense your hungry eyes and only juts his hips forward, giving you unfiltered access to his dick.

kissing his tip, you hear how much he’s enjoying it. saying your name softly under his breath, like he’s ready to crumble already. you stroke his cock carefully until he orders you to open wide, and you follow directions to a tee.

he paused for a moment, watching his friends steady pace, trying to match it. while suguru has pulled back a bit from your sloppy pussy, satoru fills your mouth. his dick as a slight upturn, hitting against the top of your throat.

both litter the air with their curses, praising how sexy you were, a cheeky little peach, a slut just for them. their thrusts soon become synchronized and while satoru is pushing your head closer to the base of his shaft, suguru reaches around you, stimulating your clit.

“her pussy’s so tight right now,” suguru tells his counterpart.

“trying to make me jealous?” satoru grunts.

“maybe,” suguru snickers.

they both intensify the speed at which they fuck you. geto slaps your ass as if bounces, swallowing his cock with every backwards motion. being in the position that he’s in, he can feel how you’re tensing up, your insides are tingling— you’re close. he can feel his own release building up, but he can’t finish before the two of you.

“are you gonna cum around my cock?” he asks, placing kisses along your back.

satoru groans; still not wanting to be left out of all the fun. he continues from where suguru left off: “are you gonna cum with my dick in your mouth?” he lets out a breath, “are you ready to have two holes filled with cum at the same time? wouldn’t that be fun?”

at that moment your toes curl, your back arching, tearing rolling down your face. as you unravel, the boys follow behind you. when they ask you about it later, you can’t remember who finished first, as every thought in your mind had vanished, all you could think of was how stuffed you felt.

cum gushed from your pussy and your mouth, swallowing as much of it as you possibly could.

satoru’s hand pet the back of your head, watching in delight as he cleaned up the last drop from the corner of your lips.

suguru let his cock rest inside you for an extra moment, groaning as you removed himself, eyeing the trail of semen that was slipping down towards your slit. he brought your swim bottoms back to their original positions, giving your cunt a pretty little tap.

“maybe we should come to the beach more often.” suguru laughs, seeing how you lay against the towel, surrendering yourself to them.

a/n: don’t forget to like and reblog if you liked it!

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gay-dorito-dust · 3 days ago

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*Shuffles in* Prehaps, I could request John Walker with dark magic witch user dating hcs, please and thank you 🥹👉👈 If not, than maybe this prompt with Jaoquin!!

i just wrote joaquin as a bonus as i can't pass up writing him.

you probably didn't get off on the right foot, but that's neither here nor there, and after saving his ass on multiple occassions with your magic and the growing tension between the two of you a relationship was inevitable to happen. Even if it was in an unconventional way but no one is perfect and certainly neither were you or john.

John’s not so much a believer in magic, seeing as it’s not something he’s seen a lot in his life nor was exposed to, so needless to say he thought your magic was nothing more then parlour tricks for kids.

That was until he saw your dark magic in full display as you manipulated the shadows, shaping them into hellish demonic beings to hunt down and hurt your enemies on your behalf, or the time you had manipulated reality so that when someone tries to run away from you, they’d ultimately be warped into running into you time and time again until they cave in.

Your magic wasn’t pretty and he knew that, it was demented, forbidden, looked down upon and vowed to be eradicated for good by those who thought all who wielded dark magic were destined to be harbingers of destruction and evil.

However your personality shone brightly in a room where your magic had darkened it, the contrast between you as a person and your magic was so jarring that it in of itself was dangerously deceptive, and something that you could use to your advantages should you so wish.

Yet while John might not be a firm believer in magic or the mystic arts or whatever you wanna call it, but that doesn’t mean he’s no less impressed with the feet’s you are able to accomplish in due to your magic and control over it as well as execution as though it’s become second nature to you. Yet you do have days where your magic did act out and people got hurt, which resulted in you being publicly scrutinised for your seemingly ‘lack of control’

John had seen you scowl down at your phone multiple times, reading the same articles over and over again, so much that he had to take your phone off of you -something you did to him whenever he did the exact same thing- and sit down next to you and hold your hand within his own, his thumb rubbing the pulse in your wrist in a manner he hopes is soothing.

‘Why are you listening to the public opinion of others when you know what you’re capable of?’ He’d start. ‘You can fly, control shadows, manipulate reality and perception, absorb light and generate darkness from it, and so much more. They-’ he raises your phone in his hand. ‘-Can’t even leave the keyboard alone for a single second?' he's been where you've been, hell he still is but he didn't want some keyboard warriors words to get in your own head, make you think lesser of yourself becuase everyone was scared that you'd do when unleashed.

'don't give them power over you becuase you will spend your life appeasing people who's oppinons on you will never change, no matter how much you yourself have changed.' John finishes as you look at the way he held your hand, strong, firm and says all the words he couldn't dislodge from his throat, it was grounding and reminded you that the only opinion you should ahere by was your own and his.

for someone who considered himself a broken toy, John was all too well put together and a source of reassurance for you, a shoulder to lean on even if he did stiffen before relaxing afterwards, you were both learning and overcoming the hardships your relationship would undergo together, hands clamped tightly.

you even use your magic to tease john, whether it'd be by making his shadow tap him on the shoulder, or stealing his shield by making it seem as though it was waddeling away from him. forcing him into following after it until you have the shield in your posession , smirking at him while he looked at you unamused. 'you and your parlour tricks.' john would say as you shrug.

'you still fell for my parlour tricks regardless john. you're dating me remeber.' you replied as you kissed him on the cheek before giving him back his shield and walking away. John swears you'd be the death of him.

nightime is the when the worst swarms john's mind, leaving him restless and incapable of sleeping after waking up once and this is when your magic works it's...well magic. sure your magic is rooted in dark magic and it's fuled by your anger and hatred but you could still use it to manipulate John's dreams to ones that were more pleasent for him, to have him unlcench his jaw and lossen his shoulders and have his eyelids droopy enough for him to fall asleep for the rest of the night.

you always ask him if you could as you never wanted to use your magic without his conset, john would only hum and bring your hands up to his temples while resting his head agaisnt them, silently displaying his trust in you and allowing you into his mind to help him in a way he's never asked for before. you always make sure to never delve too deep within his mind, there was alot to unpack there and most of it wasn't anything that you should make your own buissness, and instead focus on reminding him of the good times you shared together and how you see him.

it might not be enough but it would do until you both decide to have a deeper conversation about it. There was a mutal understanding between the two of you that didn't need any words and never would as you understood each other on a deeper level then most, which often lead into bouts of over protectivness from one another on most occasions. not unexpected and not unwelcomed either.

if you ever were to overexert yourself in due to your magic -especially on a mission- he's stubborn in making sure you were okay as he made you food, make sure you were comfortable by fluffing your pillow and even insiting on endurance training so that it wouldn't happen again, for the betterment of yourself and him as well as future missions.

john was a secret worrier and thought the worse at the time as he hovered over you, checking your pulse but still being worried as he kept you safe until the rest of the team joined up with the both of you. he's a feral man on a mission to make sure nothing happened to you while you were in such a vulnerable state, wide eyes and his shield wielded like a weapon instead of something made to defend and protect.

he didn't care, he just needed you safe and would go to many lengths to ensue it.

he honestly loves whenever you used your magic, seriously you swear you've never seen a man's eyes become as wide as his as you manilpuated shadows to do your bidding with a flick of your wrist or using simple tricks to complete mundane tasks when you're feeling a little lazy to do so yourself.

he finds every bit of your magic fasinating even if it's origins aren't so favourable in the eyes of your fellow magic users. he's your reminder that your magic could never be evil if Joaquin is looking at you as though your had light emmiting from your palms instead of darkness and destruction.

‘Is there anything you can’t do?’ He would ask when you told him about how you could walk through shadows, trap people within prisons of utter darkness and audial illusions of their worst fears and memories, minor reality manipulation, consume light and even generate it into dark magic, teleport, telepathy, flight amongst many other abilities you have honed overtime and with experience.

You shrug. ‘I’m sure there’s somethings I can’t do but I won’t know until I get there.’ You tell him before adding. ‘But having such…power is draining and I don’t mean when it’s in terms of overexerting myself.’ You tried to joke but from the way Joaquin fell silent told you that it didn’t land how you’d wanted it to.

'you're doing your best.' is what he says in response.

'people still fear me joaquin,' you tell him, 'it'd been months and i'm still seeing no change in how people see me.'

joaquin's jaw clenched as he brings you into his arms, kissing your forhead as he rubs your back soothingly, not liking how you resented your magic because people didn't understand. joaquin understood you, admired you and sees you as a fountain of strength and power. 'then don't look at them, look at me when you feel lost, i'll always be there for you no matter what.'

'even if it means going agaisnt everyone that sees me as a disaster waiting to happen?' you asked him, burrowing your head against his neck, nosing his pulse.

'especially then.' joaquin promised as he continued to cuddle you against him in hopes it would give you comfort, give you something to remind you is real whenever you felt lost amidst your own power at times.

you swore he had magic within him aswell with how effortlessly he brought warmth and comfort to your life unlike anyone else in your life. he was bright, smart, warm, a sense of peace and hilarity that your life oh so desperately needed right now.

Joaquin was beautiful, calming and grounding for you as you wordlessly cling to him, safely knowing that you wouldn't be pushed away and instead brought into his embrace and melting into him as you felt yourself able to breath.

he might think your made out of magic but you thought he was the embodiment of magic even if it was small acts he did, he just radiated something beyond describing as it wouldn't do him justice.

joaquin would also ask if there was anything else that you haven't tried with your magic before pulling out a whole list as you both spent going through together, taking it as an oppertunity to spend time together however you could and treasuring it and the way he spoke as though he was on a time limit, how animated he is when talking about your magic and his over usage of hand gesutres of how he seen you use magic.

he was also your hype man too, whenever you did something cool with your powers, or just did anything in general, he's smiling widely and giddy as he possibly could. 'that's my baby!' he'd exclaim. 'looking good honey!' he'd add when he noticed that you had heard him.

sam finds the interactions between you and joaquin funny as he watched joaquin grab your hands and rub your palms where your magic resided, speaking sweet nothings to you, displaying an exciment when you made a bit of your magic weave between yours and his fingers.

joaquin even asks if you could fly with your magic, if you could then expect flight dates to be a very common thing between the two of you, even becoming healthy competition between you and him to see who could get to the rooftop of a building first, where waiting was a picnic blanket, fairy lights and food that was set up by joaquin hours prior. it's cute and you loved every second of it as it was just another thing about joaquin that you very deeply loved.

you even use flight competition to see who had to do what. ie; who had to do the dishes, who got to cook, who got more kisses and cuddles, who's the big spoon, and other things that many would probably be viewed as silly or unnecessary but neither of you cared, it was something that was yours and yours alone.

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beanarie · 1 day ago

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@bucktommywhumpweek day 1: oxygen

It's barely an injury. This is definitely the most minor reason he has ever been stuck in an ER cubicle. Buck should be annoyed it's taking so long to send his hairline fracture to radiology, but the moment the nurse ordered him onto the gurney, he remembered how long it's been since he slept more than a couple of hours at a time. Every cell in his body sank and then seemed to make an audible click. He's never felt so much like a phone in a docking station. With only a little regret for the fire his team is still fighting, he drifts.

He resurfaces to a heart monitor going absolutely insane.

It's not his; he's not hooked up. But it's so close it must be in the next cubicle.

"Hi," says the nurse who smiled in response to Buck's thumbs up earlier, before he took his snooze. "You're at First Presbyterian Medical Center. You have a head injury, so you might be a little confused. It's okay. We're going to take care of you."

There's grumbling and a distressed wheeze. Someone shouts in alarm. Buck is now fully awake.

"What's his name?" a man asks. "Where's Greg? And Mathias? We need all hands here."

"Thomas, they said," the nurse says, and Buck's pulse speeds up.

"Thomas?" the man says with another grunt. "Please work with us."

"Hey," another woman says in surprise. The wheezing is almost unbearable, like a teakettle the instant before his mom would take it off the burner. His head swimming, Buck takes down the guard rail on one side of his bed. "I know him. He's a medevac pilot."

Buck inhales deeply and launches himself to his feet.

"Shit," someone says, as they all cry out in protest. And then Tommy is in his cubicle.

Blood is trailing down from his temple, covering one sharp cheekbone.

"Tommy?" Buck says. "Tommy." Wild eyes swing in his direction. They narrow slightly before going soft. Okay, good. He recognizes him. He does not say a word because he doesn't have the air to speak. One arm is wrapped around what must be a sucking chest wound. The veins in his neck are sticking out. He's trying so hard.

Buck lifts his hands to show he's safe. "Hey. Hey. You okay?"

Tommy stares, uncomprehending. His pupils are different sizes. Buck gestures at his bed. "Y-You look tired. Do you wanna sit?"

"Evan," he says soundlessly, forming the name with lips gone faintly blue.

"Yeah, it's me, Tommy. Come take a load off. It's okay. You look like you're gonna fall over."

Hopping on one foot, Buck takes Tommy's free hand and guides him onto the gurney, the medical team hissing at each other and vibrating behind his back. Tommy's chest is heaving, his fingers digging into Buck's wrist.

"Look at me," Buck says calmly, beckoning them as Tommy falls back. "You'll let them help, all right?"

Tommy spies their approach in his periphery and clutches at Buck, trying to lever himself off the bed. "It's okay. It's okay. Stay put."

Several things happen in rapid succession.

The nurse starts a new IV.

Tommy goes limp and boneless, his eyes falling shut, his chest unmoving.

Someone shoves Buck out of the way and his broken foot seems to disintegrate underneath him, causing the room to shift and then go black.

#bucktommy #tevan fic #bucktommy whump week #my writing #things by beanarie

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tubborucho · 3 days ago

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"Me and Guqqie just got given jerseys with each other's names on them"

Pangi can't describe what he feels right now.

There is a buzz in his ears that makes it hard to hear anything around him, while him and his team are standing in the middle of the stage, cheered on and hyped up. Blood is running through his veins on what it feels times 2 speed. He is happy. He is excited. He is overwhelmed. He is grateful. He is a little mortified for no good reason.

"Me and Guqqie just got given jerseys with each other's names on them"

"Awww I am so lonely"

They walk away behind the stage, immediately getting bombarded by all their friends: the ones, who were on other teams, and those, who managed to slip through security to them.

There are so many people. Even too much, because he is in a weird dissociative state where he simultaneously feels crowded and almost away from everyone. He is getting hugged, congratulated, he says stuff back, but there is no way he will remember anything he just said later on.

More people, his dear friends, Zam is definitely next to him, and he can hear Derapchu exclaiming 'WE ARE LIFESTEAL', making everyone laugh. He laughs as well.

"Awww I am so lonely"

Somebody lifts the crown from his head, and Pangi turns around on a reflex.

Just to be met with a view of Lukey putting the MCC crown on his own head with a cheeky smile.

(Pangi has never experienced this rush feeling of being somewhere far one second and suddenly getting grounded the next. He absentmindedly thinks that this might be what enderpearling would feel like in reality).

"Do I look good?" Lukey asks him, his voice is warmth and calm in the sea of emotions around Pangi.

"Got given jerseys with each other's names on them"

"Is Lukey here? Lukey, I might need you to win. Run past security, I give you a permission"

Lukey: I am on your left man

"Hey, chat, Lukey was here, I can do anything now"

"Are you okay, dude?"

Pangi doesn't even realise he got frozen, staring, until Lukey's voice cuts through to him again. There is a slight worry in the wrinkles on the other's face, and the crown is almost ridiculously big on Lukey's head.

Pangi stares.

"Lukey was here, I can do anything now"

Oh.

Pangi clears his throat.

"Uh, yeah, yeah I am okay", he says finally. He is not even sure Lukey can hear him over people talking next to them. However Pangi can't hear anyone else but Lukey. "You look ridiculous".

His voice is soaking with fondness.

Lukey chuckles.

"Okay, Mr. MCC Winner, have your crown back".

"No!" Pangi exclaims the second the other lifts the crown from his head. He almost chokes on air under the confused glance from Lukey (and a couple of other people). "Um... keep it. For now. Let's take a photo and farm people's reactions or something".

Yeah, this is just for the fans. Mhm.

"Sure", Lukey agrees easily. "We should start moving now, I think, others are leaving".

His eyes twinkle so bright from pink lights, Pangi's team colour.

Oh.

#liss writes posts #pangkey #liss writes fanfiction

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last-words-ofashootingstar · 8 hours ago

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hihiii sooo 'should i?' is my favourite of your au's can i please request for hongjoong with 219, 203, 207, and please please 214!!!! maybe filming a cnc video.... god i'm drooling just thinking about it

➯a/n: i'm gonna faint 🫠 hongjoong is my bias and "Should I?" hongjoong is like hdvsjejabdeo anywho- ENJOY, I WENT OVERBOARD ! WHOS SURPRISED ? NO ONE LMAOOO

Cash, Grass, or Ass? (Nobody Rides For Free)

Should I?: Part Four

❥Kim Hongjoong x fem reader

❥K.H. x J.Y. x S.M. x fem reader

207 + 214: bondage/restraint + cnc

✈︎queued for: tues 3rd

(>ᴗ•)genre: smut, amateur p0rn⭐️ au

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: not proof read ( sorry, i'm impatient ), 219 dacryphilia, filming, roleplaying as strangers, reader wears "girly-girl" clothes, 207 bondage/restraint: with rope, mean rough nasty dom joong, 203 praise + degradation double whhhhammy !!, finger sucking, safe word in place but not used, getting into subspace, dumbification, a few hair pulls, stocking / sock kink, squirting, choking ( with hands + cock ), knife play ( omg i never wrote for this before but 🫣 ), road head + rough blow job: face fucking / head pushing / gagging / messy, spit, cock warming via mouth (?), a few slaps, messy cunnilingus, 'forced' orgasms, creampie, aftercare, 214 cnc: reader cries, struggles, begs, 'stop' & joong forces, mocks, threatens but everything is previously agreed upon !! this is depicting roleplay ! name calling including: stupid, girl, slut, brat / sicko, pervert. pet names including: little siren ( still have not moved on tbh ), princess, sweetheart / sir, captain

➯cnc disclaimer: CONSENT IS SEXY. all parties are and always will be consenting in my stories. cnc is a way to explore power dynamics and it's attractive to many people, it does not "promote s/a", the first c is CONSENSUAL. you should only ever do it with someone who you trust. be safe and stay freaky !!

♡masterlist + tag form !♡

₊‧⁺stardust˖⋆ @everyonewooeverywhere @willowwyy @sousydive @sunnysidesins @onyxmango @devilzliaison @ateezswonderland @queenofdumbfuckery @emilysecresy

➯a/n2: little treat for an idea i have for another chapter at the end kkkkk

18+.MINORS GET LOST.

━༻❁༺━

"Need a ride?"

Hongjoong's voice makes your heart flutter.

Six and a half months after you first met in person; you find yourself in the middle of nowhere on a seemingly never ending desolate road in the countryside, his car pulling up next to you.

It's far from the first time you've ever been alone with him. But something feels different. Knowing what's in store is making you flustered — more so than usual.

Hongjoong was so excited that he fell out of his seat when you said you wanted to role-play a non-con scene with him; crawling on his knees to you and putting his hands in a prayer stance as he eagerly accepted.

You, Mingi, and Yunho had made a few videos like that before you even met. And all of them are still, to this very day, in his liked videos. His favorite has to be the one where Yunho was 'teaching' Mingi how to fuck — using you, all tied up and crying, as a demonstration doll. He fantasized about tying you up himself, probably one too many times to be sane, as he recorded his own videos.

In your liked videos, along with the one where he fucks a fleshlight so hard that he breaks it, is one of him talking about how he wants to tie up a pretty girl and make her choke on his cock. Not knowing that he was talking about you until he admitted it a few months ago. He wanted to do the same to Mingi, to 'see his little puppy dog eyes while he tries to get away'.

But — you were first. You knew, generally, what to expect. All of you are very open about what is and isn't on the table, and you all respect each other's boundaries. What you didn't know, is just how much it would make your heart thud while pretending that Hongjoong is a stranger.

In your mini-skirt, you saunter over to his car. Folding your arms on the lowered window, you lean down; giving him a good look down your loose tank top. Showing off your lacy bra.

He's already hard. The idea of what's about to happen had him hard the second he woke up — knowing that today's the day. Yunho had given him a blowjob to take some of the edge off, but it's already back. And the cute little outfit he had yet to see was making his hands twitch. Wanting to grab at you and get the show on the road.

"Yeah, my boyfriend dumped me on the side of the road." Which, technically, isn't a lie. Mingi had drove you out and gave you a kiss and a smirk, telling you to 'have fun'.

"Sounds like he's an idiot." He reaches over and pops the door open for you, "leaving such a pretty girl."

When you open up the door, his member twitches in his pants. He had seen it from afar, but up close was always something different. Your long socks. White and lacy, just like your bra.

The camera on the dash catches his smirk as he eyes you while you settle yourself in the passenger seat.

Oh. You think as you look over at him, he's going to fuck me up so good.

"So," he leans forward a bit, and you have to remind yourself to lean back.

"Cash, grass, or ass?"

"...what?"

"Which one are you going to pay me with?" He reaches over and touches your hair, in a way that could be described as affectionately — if not for the burning lust in his eyes. "Don't you know? Nobody rides for free."

"I don't have anything- I- I left my purse in the car."

"Ass it is."

He had locked the doors before you even had a chance to try and grab the handle.

"What the fuck, dude?" You pause as you turn back to face him, coming face to face with the pocket knife that he brandishes at you nonchalantly. He raises his eyebrow, smirk planted firmly on his lips.

"Ass it is?" He asks, tracing the flat of the blade on your jaw. "I'd hate to ruin such a pretty face."

God, he should be an actor. You think, gulping as he trails the knife down slowly. He would never hurt you. But the fact that he could...

You know he's going to mock you for how wet your panties are becoming.

"Ass it is."

"Smart choice, sweetheart," he places the knife on his thigh, holding it there as a 'reminder' as he starts driving. "Come suck my cock."

You almost choke on your saliva. He's always blunt and direct with his orders, but the edge in his voice is extra sultry today. "If you make me cum before we stop, I'll let ya' go. Deal?" You have to hold yourself back from jumping his bones.

"You will?"

"You have my word." Both of you know that even if he cums, you aren't going anywhere.

You take a steadying breath, sliding into the middle seat. "You're a damn sicko." You mumble with a small smile, trying to hide it as you unbutton his pants.

"And you're a stupid little girl." He catches the way your thighs press together in his peripheral vision, his tongue instinctively wetting his lips — wanting to have a taste. "Didn't your Daddy ever tell you not to trust strangers?"

"Fuck you-"

"Mh~ Feisty," he grabs you by the back of your head and shoves your face into his lap, "I like that. Let's see what else that mouth can do."

With a small groan, you unzip his jeans. "C'mon, princess~ Hurry up, before I pull over and fuck you in the middle of the road." While you would love that, you'll save it for another day. You pull down the elastic band on his boxers, his girth all but springing out; slapping you on the cheek and making you both moan.

You feign a gasp, trying to pull away and getting shoved right back. His knife is in the same hand that holds your head, the other on the wheel. "Get to work."

The overhead camera watches as you lean down, giving a kitten lick to his head and making him hiss. He grips your head tighter, "you think you're gonna make me cum like that? It's like you want to be fucked."

He almost lets his eyes roll back as you sink down on his pulsing length, bobbing your head quickly over the first inches of it. He pushes you down further, laughing airily when you gag as he keeps you held there.

Your scalp stings as he yanks you back up, letting you gasp for breath for only a few seconds before leading you back down. "Mhm~ Not so mouthy now, huh, brat?" You grab at his jeans, digging your nails in as you breathe through your nose. "Suck."

You muffle a disagreement, making him shiver as the vibrations run through him. "Have it your way, then."

He keeps you there, gagging on his cock for a good few minutes. Spit is soaking his boxers and your jaw is starting to ache by the time he finally stops the car and yanks the keys from the ignition. "Get up," he doesn't give you a chance to act for yourself; pulling you up by the hair and allowing you to suck in some good, deep breaths as you massage your jaw.

"Pretty little brat~" He slaps you, pretty gently based on what you know he's capable of. "I'm gonna have a lot of fun with you..." His eyes scan you for a moment before quickly leaning in and licking up your messy chin.

You turn your moan into a whine, pushing at his chest. "You're so nasty!"

"You don't know the half of it, sweetheart~"

━༻❁༺━

You had paused your scene as he carried you inside the rented cabin, letting him tie up your ankles and wrist without a fight as he asked how you were feeling so far.

And the answer was 'unbelievably horny, hurry up, please'.

He gives you a tender kiss before rubbing his hand down your side while sitting up on the bed next to you. "Give 'em a try, baby." You tug at the rope on your wrist — nothing. "And those?" He looks over his shoulder as you try to pull your ankles apart — again, nothing. "Good."

"Ready?" You ask with a sparkle in your eyes, leaning into his touch as he pets your head.

The camera is already set up next to the bed, recording the soft moment before you get nasty.

"Oh, yeah~" He chuckles, leaning to land another peck to your lips, "you trust me, right?" You nod against his forehead as he places his against yours. "I'm going to be rough- gonna be mean. That doesn't mean I care about you any less. We're just pretending. If at any point you forget that, do you remember your safe word?"

"Pause."

"And if you can't speak?"

"Two hits."

"That's a good girl~" His hand slides down from your jaw, giving your binds a tug before continuing downward. "Action."

At his word, you snap back into your role; fidgeting below him while he shoves his hand between your thighs and cups your heat through your panties. Like a flipped switch, you're both back into the scene in a millisecond flat.

He all but jumps on top of you, crushing your legs to the bed with his own as he squeezes your heat. "Damn, you've got a hot little cunt," he groans, free hand slipping between your bound arms as you push at him; landing it at your throat and squeezing that as well. It's his favorite things to do, in any scene — even outside of filming.

Even when it's just you and him, neither of your boyfriends and no cameras, he can't help but put his hands around your neck. To remind you of your place, to remind you that he's got the control. Make you remember that he cares enough about you to cradle your jugular and squeeze it only hard enough so that you see stars in the edges of your vision.

"I can't wait to fuck it raw."

You start fighting harder, twisting and turning your hips, "no, p-please!" You should be an actor, he thinks; smirk wide on his lips as he looks down at you wildly.

"Yes~" He squeezes your neck tighter for a moment before slapping you suddenly, making your head turn to face the camera. "I'm gonna fill up this bratty pussy and teach you a lesson."

You gasp, genuinely, as he grabs the pocket knife from the bedside table and flips up your skirt. He cuts through your panties with zero hesitation, ripping them the rest of the way off. He can see the wet patch on them as he tosses them to the side to be forgotten.

His tongue darts over his lips again. Really, he shouldn't — not for this scene — but he wants to eat you out so badly that his cock is twitching. He tosses the knife onto the floor as he stares down at you.

"I wonder how hard you'll fight me after I make you cum on my tongue."

"Wait, wait, waiiiit~" Your pleads fall off into a breathy moan as his slides down and hugs your thighs, stuffing his tongue into your pressed together pussy lips. "Fuck! You pervert! Stop- please stop!"

His chuckle tickles your wetness, and he shakes his head with his tongue on your clit; giving it a lick as he pulls back. "Nah~"

You bring your wrists to your face, hiding your face as you tear up. It feels so good as he laps at your needy slit. You're so worked up from the role-playing that you fear you'll cum in mere minutes.

He slides his hands up and grips your ass, grinding against your legs as he licks and sucks your cunt like a man starved. Drooling and slobbering all over you. He pulls back and adds to the mess — a fat wad of spit hitting you and making you jolt.

"Get this cunt nice and sloppy so I can slide right in~"

"Sir, please-" He pulls out his cock quickly, stuffing it between your socked calves and moaning. Loud.

"Keep begging, princess," he spits again, reveling in the way your hips jerk, "makes me want to fuck you more."

You sob into your hands — not from his words. To bite back your pleads for him to do it. It's hard to remember the scene when he's making you gush on his pointed tongue.

"Fuck- fuck!" You can't help the string of moans that tumble off your lips as he makes you cum all over his mouth; using his grip on your ass to make you grind into him as you slump and tremble.

He doesn't give you any time to recoup. He drops your hips to the mattress; making them bounce a bit, and climbs over you, manic grin on his slick lips. "You slut~" Using the rope in your wrists, he pulls your arms down so he can see your heated, teary face.

His hand finds its way back to its rightful place on your throat. Just resting there, maybe to ground you in your post orgasmic bliss. Maybe to keep you in place as he shoves his tip into your fluttering hole.

"Ah!" You gasp, eyes squeezing shut and jaw tense. He's definitely the thickest man you've ever been with. And this position — having your legs and subsequently, your heat, stuck together adds to it. A lot. You can't spread your legs, can't try to accommodate for his goliath girth. All you can do is take it. Every single inch as he pushes into you, nice and slow so he can watch all the cute twitches in your face and beautiful tears that slide down your temples.

"Fuck-" He nearly collapses on top of you as he bottoms out in your pulsing walls. "Such a tight fit, you're begging for my cum..." His blue hair tickles your neck as he nuzzles into it, kissing your collar bone. "Your warm little hole is perfect, sweetheart."

You lean into his delicate touch as his hand moves up to cup your jaw, the other holding onto the rope on your wrist tightly. "I might just have to keep you." He moans deeply as he gives a sudden thrust, making you yelp.

"Gentle! Please, gentle... Y-you're gonna split me in ha- in half," you cry into his hand, nuzzling into it as he does to your neck.

"Oh, s-shut up," he stutters as he starts sliding in and out of you; slow and deep. "You love it. You love my fat cock breaking you. You know how I know?"

"No..?"

"Cause your cunt is drooling all over me, little siren~"

His special nickname for you makes your eyes roll into your skull and stay there as you convulse under him — slammed with an orgasm so rough that it makes you wail brokenly.

You're so far gone in your pleasure that you don't realize he's slipped his thumb into your mouth and you're now sucking at it to ground yourself as he slams his hips into you mercilessly. Don't recognize that he's staring down at you with fully dilated eyes and heavy breaths. You have to blink a few times — and the sight makes his stomach flutter with butterflies.

"Fucking told you," he coos the mean words as he tries to fuck his way up to your guts, "you were made to be my personal cock sleeve, huh?"

"Mhmm~" You moan around his thumb, your brain so pleasantly numb with tingling ecstasy that you've forgotten about the role-play completely. Your subconscious is taken over, making you soft and pliable beneath his rough pounding; teary eyes so sweet that he can't help but smile. Trusting him completely and taking whatever he gives because you know you can.

"Such a sweet, obedient, little slut," he snakes his fingers between yours and holds one of your hands tightly. "You dumb on my cock, sweetheart? I fuck your brains out?"

"Mhm~" You hum, head bobbing lightly as you suck on his thumb, hand squeezing his as tightly as possible while he presses against your g-spot repeatedly with his bulbous tip.

"You want my cum?" He knows the response he's going to get when you're so deep in sub-space. Smile spreading even further on his lips as he's proven right.

"Please, Captain," you slur out quickly before your lips are back around his thumb, melting into his soft cupping of your jaw.

"Fuck-" He grits his teeth, fingers twitching as his peak rapidly grows closer, "yeah, you do~ Of course you do, my dirty little siren~"

You didn't even feel it coming until a sharp peak slaps you cunt first, making you gasp and arch below him. Each of his frenzied thrusts send a spurt of your release splashing; soaking your skirt on your waist and his shirt, dripping off you and wetting the bed.

He crushes you below him, kissing all over your face as he fucks his load into you as deep as possible, moaning soft praises as you shake with sobs.

You start breathing fast, eyes dizzy and heart pounding so fast it makes you sweat as he stills deep inside of you.

"Shhh~" He shushes you with a smile, bringing both of his hands to wipe your tears with an easy touch. It feels like you've had your entire world rocked, and seeing him so calm and collected makes you relax. "I've got you, Hongjoong's got you, sweetheart."

"H-" You huff in a shaking breath, "hold me?"

"C'mere," he hums, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and blanketing you with his body. His cock still heavy inside of you, his weight on your chest, his lips planting kisses on your teary cheek. "You did so wonderfully, princess. Did you enjoy yourself?"

"Yes," you moan softly as you close your eyes blissfully, fingers playing with his shirt from their place stuck between you. "Thank you, Captain~"

"Thank you, little siren~"

━༻❁༺━

"Check this out," Mingi flops into bed next to you a few weeks later. He slides an arm under your neck and snuggles to your back as he shows you his phone.

"What am I looking at?" You hum tiredly, rubbing your eyes before looking at the screen again.

"We have a fan-boy~" He chuckles, scrolling on the page slowly. "Been re-posting our stuff for like two months, he's really into you- oh, look at this one."

It's a screenshot from the beginning of you and Hongjoongs role-playing video. Both of you laid in the bed and recording a disclaimer to stay safe and consensual. As you were saying that you had given him clear permission to do the things he did, he was looking down at you with a fond smile; petting your head softly as you laid on his chest.

'Why did the way Captain looks at Princess make me hard before they even started? I don't know who I want to be more. I would let him ruin me and I would absolutely wreck her >:( She's so adorable, I would love to rearrange her guts while her boyfriends film us. I want her to scream my name. The dream.'

You take the device from him with a small giggle, "for real? I knew we had our regulars but I didn't know we had fans."

A clip of you fingering yourself is his pinned post. The caption:

'Poor Princess can hardly make herself squirt... I can do it, don't worry<3'

The attached picture of the man's slender hand makes you gulp. "Wow," you scroll more. Every few days, a slew of posts of the four of you are made. Something catches your eye. "Mingi-" You reach back and slap his side lightly, "why do you follow him?"

"He's got pretty hands-"

"Yo! That's what's I was thinking!"

You click back to the top and scan his profile, "Hwa? That's a pretty name."

"Mhm," he slides his hand down your waist slowly, "maybe we should make a video, you can moan his name~ I bet he'd cream in his pants."

"You perv... Let's do it~"

━༻❁༺━

#stars ask and receive #request #ateez #ateez smut #smut fic #ateez smau #kim hongjoong #hongjoong smau #hongjoong fic #hongjoong fanfic #hongjoong smut #hongjoong x reader #ateez x reader

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shabbytigers · 19 hours ago

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other trans people: best practices for hiding stubble for people with light skin and dark hair? i gather “peach to orange color correction” is the top line, but it seems rife with chances to fuck up on color, texture, etc. is there a go-to first-line product for dummies? i’m looking for the equivalent of maybelline great lash mascara here, something reliable that isn’t a major investment

the situation here: five o’clock shadow 24/7 including when my skin is still damp from shaving. the shave is fine but much of the hair grows sideways and stubble is literally visible well before it physically emerges from the skin. improved shaving methodology and/or midafternoon touchups are unfortunately not going to be a solve

i would consider this a straight up lotto win, i’ve been passing 75% of the time instead of 1% for a couple of months now, but i’m actually trying to maintain gender presentation optionality for professional purposes 😭 i’m a freelancer (dependent on my established reputation with no invested employer to ask for support) and a dual citizen (my legal name and gender marker need to be consistent across passports, so the one from the neofascist regime where all my employers are dictates what i can do about the other one, if i am to travel safely and keep all the taxes on the up and up), so coming out professionally isn’t as simple as scheduling some tricky meetings and making a brave™️ linkedin post, it’s a legit hard problem

i should have considered all this before starting t, you may observe. in my defense, eight to ten years of judicious and prudent dithering allowed a lot of reading about transition and it all said beards are a late development and to set my expectations by cis guys mostly not having full beards till their twenties or thirties, so i figured five years or more. it’s been one year and nine months on the t that works (gel didn’t for me). in 20/20 hindsight i should have thought to ask other ashkenazi jewish guys about the hair thing. also, i had a full-time remote job and every reason to think it was stable, stellar rep, happy clients, sponsorship of both the agency ceo and the next-up holding-company guy. i could have geared myself up to come out there and/or five to ten more years of nyc-to-berlin payscale arbitrage would have put me in a position to semi-retire. sadly large-scale 2023 layoffs and a bad 2024 election = not as sanguine about it

regardless, i’m already old, there’s only so much of my life left to waste, no regrets. but also, this is a real problem (my effing parents clocked me in april ffs? they’re perfect i love them) and one that should be addressable, let’s gooo

#idek how to tag this. help lmao

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 13 hours ago

Text

Ugly Side To Fame

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~3.7k

Warnings: fluff, angst, being kidnapped and forced to act out a fantasy, implied smut

Request by anon: can you do a Spencer x reader where the reader is like a famous singer model actress (what ever you want the reader to be) and she is gorgeous and no one on the team knows because her and Spencer what to keep it private because of how famous she is and Garcia is her biggest fan and one day she never shows up to her and Spencer dinner date and he is worried about her so her goes to her condo house and sees that the door is wide open and the house is ransacked and there is blood and he call the team and they open a case for her but then they get specious of why he was at her condo and he comes clean to them about dating her

Summary: You’re a famous model with lots of fans who adore you. When one of them crosses the line between fan and stalker, it’s up to Spencer’s team to save you before it’s too late.

Square Filled: forced to hurt someone for @badthingshappenbingo

Author’s Note: just a reminder that there are models of all sizes, and each of them is beautiful!

You arch your back and tilt your head slightly to the right, staring at the camera as you do. Fans blow all around the set to keep the models cool, but you can feel the baby oil sliding down your skin into places where it shouldn’t be. You’re hot, sticky, and sweaty, but the position is perfect.

“Great work, Y/N! Now turn toward Gio and put your hands on his shoulders lazily.”

You turn toward your coworker and sling your arms around his shoulders naturally, leaning into him slightly.

“Fantastic job, you two. Don’t look at the camera.”

The photographer snaps a few dozen photos from different angles, and she grins when she’s done. You feel a sense of pride when she grins like that. It means you’re doing your job right. You’re a famous model, shown all across the country and different parts of the world in billboards, ads, magazines, and even fashion shows. You’ve even gotten a spot in the next Victoria Secret show, and that’s something you’re looking forward to.

People are coming and going from this set, so you don’t think much of the chatter until you see him. The love of your life. Your rock. Your love. Spencer Reid. He must have gotten off work early and decided to come see you.

“Okay, take five while I reset everything.”

You break away from your coworker and immediately go to Spencer’s side, pulling him in for a hug. You’re careful not to get too much baby oil on him, but he doesn't seem to mind.

“I’m so happy you’re here!” You lean up and kiss him. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you. We don’t have a case this weekend, so be prepared to spend every minute with me.”

“Sounds like a dream.” The five minutes are up, and you look back at set. “I should be done in thirty minutes. Wait for me.”

You scurry off to do more poses with your coworker. Spencer has never been the jealous type. He’s secure in his relationship with you. Yes, you’re a model. Yes, you have a lot of fans who adore you. Yes, you do often pose with half-naked men. However, he’s the one you’re going to go home with at the end of the day. You never fail to show him how much you love him. He loves seeing you on ads and billboards, and he made sure to secure a spot at the Victoria Secret fashion show next month.

He could not be more proud of you.

After the shoot is done, and you’ve taken a quick shower, you two leave hand in hand. He doesn’t drive, but you don’t mind the walk to your house.

“So, when am I going to meet your friends?”

“Is it so wrong to want to stay in this bubble with you?”

“Have you even told them about me? That I’m a famous model?”

“If I have, you’d know about it. Penelope is your biggest fan.”

The topic of meeting his second family has always come up, especially recently. It’s not that he’s hiding you or wants to hide you. He knows how people can get, and he wants to keep you all to himself. You’ll meet them eventually, but tonight won’t be that night. You don’t feel shame from him, so you know that's not the issue. It can be overwhelming, especially when the love of your life is so much more famous than you. Spencer is setting high expectations for his friends. What if they don’t like you? What if they do? What if you get hurt because of him and his job?

You get to your house and immediately go to the kitchen to put a frozen pizza in the oven. It’s quick, and you don’t feel like cooking a whole meal after a long day. Being a model doesn’t mean you get to skimp out on what you eat. You work out regularly, and with the right balance, you can have both a model career and eat what you want. Models like Kendall Jenner and Gigi Hadid look great, but you know how strictly they set rules for themselves.

When you became a model, you promised yourself you weren't going to be like them.

You and Spencer enjoy pizza and a movie, but you’re in the mood for some dessert. Before the movie ends, you slink closer to his side and attach your lips to his neck. Spencer relaxes against the couch and pulls you onto his lap so you’re straddling him. You suck on the sensitive spot underneath his ear, and he grows harder underneath you.

He cups your cheeks and pulls your lips to his, and he kisses you passionately. He hooks his hands under your thighs and stands with you in his arms. The night is filled with steamy passion, one that leaves you shaking for more.

On Monday, he arrived at work before you got up. He left a note on his pillow that he’ll see you for lunch. He’ll call you later with details. If he looked into a mirror before he left, he’d have seen something he never wanted his friends to see. The girls are around JJ’s desk gossiping about what they did over the weekend.

JJ is about to share what she, Will, and the boys did when she sees it. Her mouth parts, and the girls turn to see what JJ is looking at. At first, they don’t see it until Spencer turns his head. Right on his neck is a big red spot from where you were sucking.

“Who, Spencer, who knew you’d be the type?” JJ chuckles.

“What?”

“Damn, here I thought all you did was read and do research,” Tara laughs.

“What are you talking about?”

Matt and Luke walk over to see what the girls are giggling about when they see the mark on Spencer’s neck.

“Who, Spencer, who’s your little girlfriend?” Luke grins.

Spencer looks at everyone and finally realizes what they’re looking at. His hand flies to the side of his neck where he knows your mark is, and his cheeks redden.

“I burned myself.”

“With that, a curling iron?” JJ smirks.

“You have a girl we don’t know about?” Luke asks.

“What? No.”

“Oh, so then you’re hooking up with people?” Tara smirks.

“No. Okay. Yes, I’m dating someone, but she’s not ready to meet you all yet.” That’s a lie. It’s he who isn’t ready. He’s content with staying in this bubble for as long as he can. “Can we return to work now?”

Spencer leaves before anyone else can ask more questions. They’ll come to know you soon enough, so he wants to avoid those questions as long as he can. Like last week, there isn’t an active case since the B team is out, so he focuses on the files he has open. Time flies, and it’s lunchtime before he knows it.

He takes out his phone to call you, but you don’t answer the phone. You must be caught in a shoot that’s running long, and he doesn’t want to bother you. He leaves a voicemail saying he can do a late lunch, but you don’t return his call. He doesn’t think much of it and returns to work. By the end of the day, he starts to become worried that you haven’t answered any of his calls. It’s weird, but maybe work ran late.

However, the set is closed when he arrives to pick you up. If you’re not at work, then you have to be at home, and you should have answered his calls. As he walks to your house, he calls you. All of them have gone to voicemail, and he immediately becomes suspicious. That suspicion turns to worry when he sees your house.

The front door is wide open which is Spencer’s first indication that something is wrong. He walks inside your house carefully as if someone will pop up and scare him. The living room is to the right, and the furniture is toppled over as if you were running from someone or something.

The kitchen is worse with every drawer and cabinet open, and knives on the ground. He doesn’t even want to see what upstairs looks like, but he goes up there regardless. The first thing he notices is the pool of blood on the carpet. He doesn’t need to see the rest of the house.

He knows what he needs to do.

He pulls out his phone and calls his team. Only they are going to be able to help. He doesn’t trust the local PD to be able to solve this. If you’re hurt and suffering, he needs only the best to track you down. Soon, your house is crawling with officers, CSIs, and his team.

“Look, I know I said she wasn’t ready to meet you all, but it was me who wasn’t ready. I guess I wanted to stay in this bubble we created. My girlfriend is Y/N, the famous model. I don’t know what happened here, but we were meant to get lunch together. I thought she was at work because she never answered my calls. I just came here to see this. I don’t know what happened.”

Everyone is shocked that Spencer is dating. No, not that he is dating. It’s that he’s dating you. They never pictured him with a model. They’re happy for him, of course, but it’s a little shocking when they never expected it.

Still, this is a crime scene, and everyone snaps into focus. A sample of the blood is taken to the labs for testing. If it doesn’t come out as yours, then whoever was in this house after you is hurt. The local PD is tasked with gathering as much evidence as they can from the scene alongside Matt and Rossi.

With being a famous model, you have a lot of fans from all over the country, the world, even. If you were attacked in your home, then the person who did this to you might have been a fan. Spencer, JJ, and Penelope are tasked with going through your social media and laptop to see if there is someone who has taken a special interest in you.

Luke is going around to your neighbors in hopes someone might have seen something, so Spencer heads back to the BAU with JJ and your laptop. Penelope heard the news as soon as Spencer called, so she tried to contain her excitement about potentially knowing her favorite model.

“I’ll be sure to introduce her to you after this, but here is her laptop,” Spencer says and hands it over.

“Sure, of course. Don’t worry, Spencer, we’ll find her.”

Getting into your laptop is light work for Penelope, and Spencer and JJ go through your social media accounts. Spencer has the passwords to all of your accounts because you’re so forgetful, and you don’t want to put your passwords in your notes just in case you get hacked. One of your friends was hacked a year ago and had all of her information stolen. Plus, why remember when you have a super smart boyfriend to remember for you?

“Look at this, Spence,” JJ says, showing him her phone. It’s one of your DMs on Instagram. “Y/NSBOY_69 has sent her multiple messages talking about how beautiful she is and how he’d love to meet up with her. She never accepted the request, so all of them are left unanswered, but it looks like she has a fanboy.”

“I’ve noticed.”

Spencer’s brow furrows as he reads through your TikTok, Facebook, Snapchat, and Twitter messages. The ones that aren’t from friends and family are from fans who seem to have some sort of obsession with you. None are as bad as Y/NSBOY_69. He has liked every picture you have posted, commented multiple times on them, and has messaged you asking when you two are going to get together.

“This guy is seriously all the way creepy,” Penelope says. “I have messages asking her to carry his babies.”

Anger flares up in Spencer’s chest, but he tries not to let it show. He’s usually a calm person when it comes to you. He knows you get messages from obsessed fans, but he never knew it could get this bad. Sure, he’s seen what obsession looks like, but it’s different when it happens to someone he knows.

“I can’t wait for Rossi and Matt to finish up at her house. I know this guy is the one who attacked her. How, I’m not sure. Maybe he followed her home and forced his way in.” Realization passes over his face. “What if she let him in?”

“I highly doubt that,” JJ scoffs. Just then, the others come back from the crime scene. “Find out anything?”

“One of the neighbors noticed something as she was out walking her dog. She was on her way out when she noticed someone tall and lanky sneaking around her house, looking into her windows. When she came back, the door was wide open. Y/N was already gone.”

“So, he was stalking her. You should see her social media accounts. Tons of comments and messages from a single account that I’m sure Penelope is looking through.”

Spencer frowns in thought. He never knew the kind of behavior you’d see daily. You keep a good front for someone who knows there is a stalker out there obsessed with you.

“You bet your ass I am,” Penelope says. “This guy is not trying to hide at all. He doesn’t even have safety measures to prevent someone like me from getting through. His name is Charlie Jones. His address and work have been sent to your PDAs.”

The team splits into two with one half going to his work and the other half to his home. Luke kicks in his front door, and Spencer and JJ follow him inside with guns raised. It’s a two-bedroom apartment, so the team quickly clears it. Charlie isn’t here. However, it’s not a total bust. In a bedroom, the walls are covered with pictures of you. Not just the pictures you’ve posted online or you in ads. Pictures of you out and about. Some even with Spencer in them. His face is crossed off in every single one of them.

This isn’t just an obsession. This is something else entirely.

Spencer takes out his phone and calls Rossi before connecting him to a call with Penelope. “He’s not at his house.”

“He’s not at work, either. Turns out, he’d been fired a few months ago for bad behavior,” Matt informs.

“We found something at his house. One of the bedrooms has pictures of Y/N in it. He was completely infatuated with her. Pictures of her going about her normal life. Garcia, is there anything else you can dig up on this guy? Another property he might own?”

“He doesn't have any other property in his name. However, his parents do. They work in Asia, but they do have a farmhouse they bought several years ago. I guess they wanted to try their hand at farmlife, but it never stuck. It looks like the place is abandoned.”

“I bet he took her there,” Spencer says.

“Address already sent. Please be careful.”

When the strange man broke into your home, you fought hard. You fucked up your house trying to get away from him. You even managed to cut him with one of the kitchen knives. Still, he came prepared and managed to trap you inside your bathroom. He stuck a syringe in your neck and injected you with something that caused you to pass out.

You woke up in this farmhouse to him crying over you, apologizing for hurting you. He smothered your face with wet kisses, and you did your best not to vomit. All he wants is to be with you. He created this fake life with you in his head, and now he wants it to become reality. Besides injecting you, he hasn’t hurt you.

Maybe it’s because you’ve been complying knowing you have to save your energy for escaping. As soon as an opportunity presents itself, you’re taking that one-way ticket out of here. If Spencer didn’t know you were missing when he attacked, he surely does now. He and his team are going to find you.

You just have to stay alive long enough for them to save you.

“How is your neck?” he asks.

“Good. It doesn’t hurt anymore,” you lie.

It hurts like a bitch since he wiggled the needle in you to make sure it stuck. The last thing you’re going to do is tell him that.

“I’m sorry, baby. I had to do that. You were fighting me.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

He reaches up and touches your cheek. He pulls you in for a kiss, and you lean in hesitantly. “Never be sorry. You’re too perfect to apologize for anything. Now, go get the food you cooked.”

You eagerly leave his side to grab the food you’ve been cooking for the past hour. You sit across from him and push your food around. You lost your appetite long ago, but Charlie scarfs his food down as if he hadn’t eaten for days.

“Am I ever going to go home, Charlie?”

“You are home. This is our home now. Y/n, it’ll be perfect. I’ll fix up the house and make it perfect for you. You’ll be here with the kids, and I can tend to the farm with all kinds of animals.”

“Kids?” you squeak.

“Four of them. I’ve always wanted a big family,” he grins.

Oh, hell no. You don’t care if this will kill you. You need to get out of here now. The front door doesn’t seem to have a lock on it. He must be so confident that you’d want to stay here with him that he doesn’t care to lock the front door. Or, maybe it is. Either way, you have to get out of here.

“I’ve made dessert. Are you ready for that?”

“You are the dessert, my love.” Like fuck are you going to let him touch you, but you don’t tell him that. “But yes. I’d love some.”

You get up from the table and walk into the kitchen, his back still turned to you. There are no knives around, so you grab the pan you used to cook. You grip the handle tightly and sneak over to Charlie on light feet. Without thinking, you swing the pan across Charlie’s head, gasping when he is tossed onto the floor from the impact. You drop the pan in shock before your fight-or-flight response kicks in.

You jump over Charlie and run to the front door, yanking it open. Thank fuck it’s not locked. There is a car pulling up to the farm, and you scream for help.

“Help me!” You cry out in pain when Charlie grabs your hair tightly. He yanks you away from the door and slams it shut. “Let go of me, you psycho!”

The front door is kicked in, and the FBI swarms in with guns raised. Charlie puts you in front of him and presses the sharp tip of a knife to your throat. Where the hell did he get that from?

“Charlie Jones! Drop the knife,” Emily demands.

Your eyes immediately find Spencer’s, and you know you’re going to be okay. Even if he stabs you. Spencer is here. He always takes care of you.

“I’m not going to do that. You don’t understand. We were meant to be together!”

“Look at her, man,” Luke says, “you’re scaring her. Do you really want to do that to the woman you love?”

“She’s scared because you’re pointing your guns at her!”

“Okay, I’m putting my gun away,” Spencer says as he steps forward. No one else does, but Charlie isn’t focused on them. “I know you love her. I saw your wall. You don’t like me very much, do you?”

“You took her away from me,” Charlie growls.

“You can have her.” You try not to be hurt knowing he is just trying to talk him down. Spencer is just saying anything to get Charlie away from you. “If you care about her, Charlie, if you want a life with her, then you’ll let her go. She can’t give you children if she’s hurt or dead.”

“She was always meant to be with me.”

“I know. I just need to know she won’t get hurt. I care about her, too, but I know you love her. Just let her go, and you two can go back to your life here.”

The hesitation on Charlie’s part is all Emily needs to take the shot. He loosens his grip on you, and you duck just in time for Emily to shoot Charlie in the head. You immediately run into Spencer’s arms, and he holds you tightly as the others make a quick sweep of the place.

“You’re safe, Y/N. I’m sorry for saying those things.”

“No, you saved me.” You lean up and kiss him. “I love you.”

The paramedics come to check you out, and Spencer is by your side the whole time. The rest of his team is standing by their cars, whispering to each other. It’s out now. Everyone knows Spencer is dating the hot model.

“Spencer, I think they know now,” you giggle.

“Yeah, I know. I’ll introduce you.”

Charlie injected you with a local anesthetic to knock you out, so you’ll feel much better in the morning. You’re good to go. Spencer walks you over to the group, and he sees that JJ is on FaceTime with Penelope.

“Guys, this is Y/N, my girlfriend.”

“Hi, I’ve heard so much about all of you,” you smile.

“Funny. We never heard a thing about you.”

“My fault. I know.”

“I’d love to get to know all of you. Maybe next week we can all have lunch at my place. You know, after I get it all cleaned up.”

“Are you okay? He better not have hurt you. I’ll beat his ass in the afterlife,” Penelope says protectively.

“No, not much. He just had me make him dinner. He kissed me. It was gross.” You lean into Spencer. “I’m okay now.”

It’s nice to finally be able to talk to the people he calls his second family. There will always be people like Charlie out there who want to hurt you, but you know you’ll be okay with a whole team of FBI agents behind you.

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds angst

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microwavedzebras · 2 days ago

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IN DEPTH BATTLE AT THE BOWL SPOILERS

🚨THIS POST CONTAINS MANY SPOILERS FOR DIMENSION 20: BATTLE AT THE BOWL. DO NOT READ IF YOU DONT WANT SPOILERS🚨

Again, if you don’t want spoilers, please block the tag #battle at the bowl spoilers and do not read this post!!

If you Only want to see who lived/died and dont want any other spoilers, check out my previous post about the show! That one only has the spoiler of who lived/died and no other spoilers!

This post is gonna be a summary of the whole show!

- Brennan was wearing a pirate shirt and hat but took the hat off for the show. All of their outfits were really cool though, especially Siobhan (wearing a denim jumpsuit) and Emily (wearing a puffy black dress and tights)

- Ayda announcing pride month and immediately ratting out to Fig that Fabian got Riz to spy on Gilear and try to dig up dirt on him (the dirt was that he constantly rewatches disc 1 of season 7 of Bones bc the library doesn’t have disc 2)

-Fig trying to plan the wildest action-packed weekend for Gilear’s bachelor party, calls him a dilk (dad I’d like to know), and Ayda helps her decide that the knife throwing event should be moved to the final event of the bachelor party (but then Ayda has to leave to take care of some business at the library)

- Gilear goes to Lids once a week and tries on hats and then gets too scared to buy them and leaves

- Unit flirting + rubbing his nipples (does he even have nipples???) and pretending to be multiclassing as a barbarian to hang out with Gorgug but Gorgug rejects him bc he has a girlfriend now :(

- Fig is about to fight Riz for spying on Gilear but then Fabian’s nemesis alert pings and pings again as Chungle-Down Bim approaches

-Chungle-Down Bim appears and calls himself the bad kids’ greatest enemy even though most of them have never met him lmao

- THE BAD KIDS (except Fabian) ALL GET A SPELL PUT ON THEM THAT TURNS THEM INTO CHUNGLE DOWN’S PIRATE CREW AND THEY ALL HAVE PIRATE ACCESSORIES AND EVEN LOU DIDNT KNOW THIS WOULD HAPPEN

- Emily said she was wearing pirate tights and Lou said he complimented those tights earlier and didn’t know they were supposed to be pirate-y

- Ally’s “pirate accessory” is basically just a bandana wrapped around their head like a babushka 😭

- Fabian and Gorgug roll the lowest initiatives

- Murph has the highest initiative and fucking crits against Fabian

- They all take 1d6 psychic damage if they try to resist pirate-ification (from just trying, doesn’t matter if they succeed or not, they still take damage)

- Michael Shaubach comes out with a t shirt canon whenever someone crits and shoots one singular t shirt into the audience (I was not close enough to the stage to get one)

- Ally , while acting like Austin powers, rolled a box of doom roll and temporarily breaks out of the spell and was able to dispel magic on Gorgug and make him fully normal

-even if the characters break out of the spell it’s only for a turn and on Chungle-Down Bim’s next turn he can reassert control over them. The only way to fully free someone from the spell is to cast dispel magic on them

- Fabian and Gorgug both have fly cast on them and run away (Gorgug’s fly spell is a propeller that he attaches to his head)

- Intermission

- Fabian and Gorgug go to Basrars because that’s where Fabian goes when hes scared, he tells Basrar that someone’s after him and as soon as he says Chungle-Down Bim, Basrar teleports away

- Fabian has accidentally been butt dialing Gilear for the past 20 mins, and Gilear tells him a bunch of boys are bullying him and that he’s been trapped in the Lids changing room

- Fabian just hangs up and calls Jawbone instead, but Jawbone instead lectures him about feeling his feelings and not using violence

- Gorgug calls Mary-Ann but she’s at a quokki-pet tournament

- Fabian calls Mazey and she is also busy but says she’ll head over as soon as she can

- Fabian also calls the hangman to him

- Chungle-Down Riz rolls a really high investigation check and finds Fabian and attacks him

- Chungle-Down Bim and the other bad kids prepare a spell to destroy Elmville

- Kristen breaks out of the spell but instead of casting dispel magic on the others or attacking Chungle-Down Bim she just decides to look out the window and try to get answers from the sky

- Fabian only has 20 hit points left, and the hangman bursts in and says “I’ve always hated you” to Riz and dispells magic on him and Riz is like “I could hear what you just said!”

- When Fabian says he only has 20 hit points left, an “in memorium” slide of Fabian starts playing on the screens

- Most of the audience participation rolls were for the dispel magic rolls. We got a nat 20 on one of them!

- Brennan lets Fabian turn one of his bard spells into a dispel magic

- Chungle-Down Bim and the other bad kids arrive in the parking lot of Basrars and Kristen finally casts dispel magic on Adaine

- Chungle-Down Bim attacks Fabian and Brennan is like “Fabian could die on this turn. It’s not likely, but it’s possible”

- He does just enough damage to drop Fabian to zero and another , fully different “In memorium” screen plays (it plays a total of 3 times and they’re all different)

- Fabian sees his dad while he’s passed out and his dad says that he’s in his corner and he’ll heal him if he wires him a bunch of money. Fabian is like “Im unconscious” and Bill tells him to figure it out

- Fabian decides fuck healing and becoming a better person, just for today hes gonna fucking destroy chungle-down bim, and then he’ll go back to his healing journey afterwards

- Bill is also unlearning toxic masculinity and has been doing yoga

- Gorgug heals Fabian for a couple hit points and Fabian Venmos his dad and gets a bunch more hit points back

- Kristen kills Upchungle and wears him as a hat

- Gorgug is the first person to actually rsvp to the bachelor party and Fig is un-Chungled

- Murph flossed and dabbed

- Adaine casts a spell on Chungle-Down Bim that makes him incapacitated until her next turn

- Everyone just fucking hits him until he dies, Fabian and the hangman get the last blows and they kill Chungle-Down Bim

- Chungle Down Bim asks Fabian the existential question while hes dying, “will you shit in my mouth?”

- Fabian decides that he will, but he’s nervous to do it in front of everyone else, so Gorgug holds his arms and another person casts invisibility on him

- Mazey arrives, just as invisible Fabian is shitting in Chungle-down Bim’s mouth and Riz panics and casts fairie fire so she can see the whole thing, but she’s proud of Fabian

- They get up from their seats and Brennan lays on the ground, Lou squats over his face, and Zac holds Lou’s hands and they act this out

- There is no in memorium slide for chungle-down bim at all

- They all decide to eat ice cream together and Fabian is just staring off into the distance

-Gilear calls Fig and is like “hey Im having a bad day and it would just make me feel better if you knew anyone who might be having a worse day” and Fig is like “friends lie for their friends” and says “no. You are having the worst day”

#dimension 20 live spoilers #dimension 20 live #dimension 20 spoilers #fantasy high spoilers #rumble in the chungle spoilers #rumble in the chungle #battle at the bowl spoilers #battle at the bowl #chungledown bim

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rivwritesiguess · 3 days ago

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Focus

Word Count: 3.9k Hurt/Comfort Zayne x Xavier x gn!reader Summary: You and Xavier go on a mission together to take care of an area that is a hot spot for wanderers. It seems to be going well, until you get hurt and Xavier has to rush you to the hospital where the other person in your relationship is taking the night shift. Warnings: Injuries, surgery (probably a lot of surgical and medical inaccuracies) Notes: I'm trying a bit of a new format of things in general for my fic, adding dividers and yapping too much at the beginning like I'm doing rn. This is also my first time writing in 2nd person and publishing it, and I think I prefer it for reader fanfic. This is the fic I was referring to in this post. Zayne and Xavier are probably ooc in this, I struggled trying to portray their part of the relationship, but I tried my best since the fic is mainly them interacting. The fic focuses on Xavier and Zayne, the reader literally doesn't say a word throughout the entire thing and is unconscious for nearly all of it 💀 Photos from Pinterest (Xavier and Zayne) and little divider thing made by me with Photopea :) Navigation

It all happened so quickly. One second you were next to him, the next you were thrown to the other side of the field by the force of the wanderer’s hit. You hit a tree with a loud thud. You fell to the ground. Xavier continued fighting, horror overtaking him when he realized you weren’t getting up. You were completely still.

Xavier had to stay focused. He had to get rid of the wanderer. The wanderer was eyeing your collapsed form against the tree. Xavier couldn’t let the wanderer get the chance. He couldn’t risk it. He had to protect you.

When the wanderer fell, Xavier didn’t even look at the protocore it dropped before running to your side. He kneeled next to you, carefully putting his hand on the side of your face. His thumb ran over your cheek a few times as if you were sleeping, and doing this would wake you up. However, you didn’t move, still lying still aside from the rise and fall of your chest.

Xavier glanced over your body, not knowing if he felt relieved or not upon not seeing any blood. Sure, there was no blood on the outside. But what does the inside look like? What injuries are hiding beneath your skin? How much pain will you be in when you wake up? If you wake up?

When the thought crossed his mind that you might not wake up, Xavier jumped into action. He couldn’t call for help, not with this area being an active wanderer hotspot. Sure, there were none here right now, but that doesn’t mean they might not pop back up. He had to move you himself.

He carefully rolled you onto your back. He checked your breathing, making sure it wasn’t too shallow or fading. He untucked your shirt, lifting it enough to see the area around your ribs to check for any weird bumps. If you’ve broken a rib and it’s positioned against your skin, that will make this ten times harder.

The only thing he found was some intense bruises forming. Sure, it was bad, but it wasn’t your bones sticking out of your skin bad. He put your shirt back down and carefully proceeded to roll you onto your stomach. He lifted your shirt once more, feeling along your spine, checking for any deformities or misaligned vertebrae.

Nothing.

He moved to your hips. He wanted to move your pants down to check for bruising near your pelvis, but it felt wrong. Instead, he pressed gently with his hands on each side of your pelvis bone.

He was relieved when you didn’t give a reaction to the light pressure he was applying. Sure, it reminded him that you were passed out, but it also meant the pain wasn’t enough for you to make any noise in your current state.

Unless you physically couldn’t make any noise. Just how unconscious were you? Should you be reacting? Should he be doing this? Is he doing it right? Is he even fast enough to get you to a hospital in time? Is there any time? Were you going to stay asleep? Was he going to lose you?

He shook his head slightly, snapping himself out of it. Now was not the time for panic. He had to stay focused. You needed him to get you out of here.

You needed him.

With the small reassurance that there was nothing wrong with your spine, he took the risk of moving you around once more. Carefully, he sat you up, one hand on your back and the other keeping your head aligned with your neck. Then, he moved next to you, wrapping your arm around his shoulder and then slowly standing. He leaned down enough so he was able to lift you over his shoulders once he stood up properly.

He put one hand over your legs, holding them to his chest. The other held your hand that swayed in front of him. Your head lulled a bit too much for his liking. He wondered if he should’ve figured out a different way to move you. Maybe he could’ve laid you down on his jacket and pulled. Maybe he should’ve.

He doesn’t have time for this. He moves as quickly as he can without jostling you too much. He gets through the trees and after about two minutes, he makes it out of the woods, seeing the car you two had taken waiting just a couple yards away.

He suddenly felt incredibly grateful about Zayne’s insistence that the two of you drive in a car. You and him had been talking about taking two of the Association’s motorcycles. Zayne overheard the conversation and mentioned it would be raining around the time the two of you left. You and Xavier had brushed it off, saying you could both handle a bit of rain. Zayne, however, wasn’t having it, insisting that you take a car instead, claiming the roads would be too wet and a car has better traction and motorcycles are dangerous enough anyway and listen to him or else he won’t cuddle with the two of you tonight.

Xavier walked over, opening the back door. He bent down as best as he could while carrying you on his shoulders. He let go of your hand, leaning slightly to the side where your hand had been to keep you on him and not falling off. With his free hand, he moved the back seat to lay down flat.

He nearly flinched when he heard the soft groan leave you as your body twitched slightly. He froze for a moment, wondering if you were waking up, but you didn’t make any more movements.

He continued, carefully maneuvering you on his shoulders so he could lay you flat in the backseat. Then, he took off his jacket, placing it to support your head and neck through the ride to the hospital. He put his backpack and your backpack on either side of you, hoping it would limit the amount of jostling.

He checked your breathing one last time to make sure he wasn’t losing you. When he didn’t hear any abnormalities, he quickly moved, getting into the front seat and starting the car. The car navigation was saying that the ride to the hospital would be twenty minutes using the legal speed limit.

It was late at night. He would mostly be on the highway. No one else would be on the road. The rain would’ve mostly dried.

He was not going to be following the legal speed limit.

His hands were trembling on the wheel. He thanked whatever God or gods there were for the lack of red lights. When he got off the highway, he mainly slowed down to make sure the turns he was taking weren’t too sharp. He started slowing down when he was about thirty seconds from the hospital, making sure he wouldn’t be stopping too fast with you unbuckled in the back seat.

He got to the hospital in 13 minutes. He immediately felt regret over not calling ahead, but he didn’t let himself dwell on that as he stopped the car near the sidewalk and got out, running into the ER.

The next few minutes went by in flashes. Xavier didn’t remember the in-betweens. He remembered moments.

There were his words when he went in. He partly understood what he was saying, but a lot of it was also from Zayne’s lectures on different types of injuries. The doctor had wanted you and him to know what to say to any emergency responders in a situation like this. Judging by the way the people seemed to drop everything to get to work, Xavier assumes what he said means a lot.

“My part- coworker is in the car, they're a hunter, they’re unconscious. They got thrown against a tree. Blunt force trauma, possible head injury. They’re breathing is stable but they aren’t responsive. I checked their body but I didn’t see anything abnormal for a spinal injury but I don’t know for sure, I carried them to the car and drove them here, I-”

The hospital workers had interrupted him. Three had already come over to him when he came running into the room. He heard someone ask for the keys. He handed them over, seeing the keychain that you and Zayne had gifted him for his birthday swinging as the three people rushed outside, one wheeling a stretcher out with them. He went to follow when another person stopped him.

The next thing he remembers was when you were being wheeled in. The nurse who had stopped him had been saying words, asking him more questions. He doesn’t remember answering. He barely remembers the face of the nurse.

He remembered seeing you. The stretcher rolled along the floor smoothly. You had a brace on your neck, keeping your head stable. Your eyes were still closed. He only got a flash of your face before one of the ER workers was moving near you and blocking his view. He tried to follow them as they went into the back, but he was stopped.

The next chunk was when he’d sat down. He was deadly still, staring blankly at the floor. His mind raced, not knowing if he’d done everything right or if he might’ve killed you himself.

You weren’t going to die. He’d seen others recover from circumstances far worse than yours. They were fine, so you would be too. Obviously.

Xavier hadn’t even thought of it when he first went in. He didn’t think about what hospital he was in. He didn’t think about his other partner’s shift schedule.

He didn’t think of it until he saw Zayne walk through the doors, walking over to one of the nurses with a clipboard to ask questions. For a moment, Xavier didn’t know what to do. Would Zayne be upset? Would he freak out?

Zayne didn’t freak out. Not outwardly. He and Xavier were similar in that way. They experienced their emotions internally. Sure, Xavier was definitely panicking. He’d been panicking ever since the wanderer hit you. But it was in his head. Zayne’s panic was normally there as well.

You, on the other hand, were not like that. You were such a contrast to them. You wore your heart on your sleeve. Around them, you never masked your emotions. You were happy to tell them how you felt, even if how you felt was the opposite. They always listened to your expressive rants, whether you were excited or angry.

And yet, when Xavier had seen you just a few minutes ago, you were so… neutral. Like him and Zayne. It isn’t right. He couldn’t even tell himself that you were just sleeping. Not when he had seen you hit the tree. Not when he saw you fall to the ground. Not when you didn’t move, even when he was attempting to rouse you.

Zayne didn’t notice Xavier at first. He asked the nurse at the ER desk to fill out the paperwork he was handing them. As he handed it over, he took a quick glance around the waiting room, getting ready to ask the nurse about the recent admissions.

His gaze immediately froze on Xavier, standing a few feet away from where he’d just been sitting. It wasn’t right. Xavier was supposed to be with you on a mission right now. If he’s here, in this room, and you’re not…

“Where are they?” He said, dropping the clipboard and quickly going over. “Are you alright? What happened to them?”

“We thought we’d gotten rid of all of them, but a wanderer popped up out of nowhere. It got them, hit them with full force. They went flying and hit a tree. They were knocked unconscious.”

“Immediately? Did they wake up before you got here?”

“No, they- they didn’t, I haven’t seen them in a few minutes, so they might’ve by now, but- but I don’t know. The workers took them back about five minutes ago.”

Zayne nodded, more to himself than Xavier. He took a moment, thinking. Then, he reached over, pulling Xavier into a tight hug. It was only for a moment, but it did help Xavier relax slightly. Zayne was here now, and he was the expert. If he was hugging him, then it meant that going to you wasn’t an emergency. You’d be fine.

Zayne was doing it for one of two reasons. He wanted to calm Xavier down, of course, but he also needed the hug. He needed to feel that it wasn’t both of you. That one of you was okay and here with him, not back being examined for the full extent of whatever injuries you have.

He pulled back, looking at Xavier with calm eyes.

“The people working here have their full attention. I’m the only surgeon on call right now. I haven’t been called back, so they’re not in need of any emergency surgeries. It’ll probably be another twenty minutes before someone comes out to talk to you.”

Xavier nodded.

“Will they let me go back to see them?” His voice was quieter than he wanted it to be, but he couldn’t change it. Not when Zayne was now here, telling him you’ll be fine. That’s the reassurance he needs. He’s not going to feel entirely better until he sees you, but seeing Zayne helps. It definitely helps.

“They’re going to allow both of us to go back and see them.” Zayne didn’t elaborate much, but judging by the tone, Xavier got the feeling that it wouldn’t be normal for them to be allowed to go back so quickly and that Zayne might be pulling a few strings with his position here. It definitely wasn’t ethical, but Xavier wasn’t going to call him out on that. He’d do the same thing, maybe worse.

It was going to be fine. It was all going well. You were going to be fine.

At least, that’s what Xavier and Zayne thought. However, right as Zayne was prepared to ask more questions, his pager went off.

Emergency surgery: Patient with internal bleeding in the abdominal area and a hemothorax.

“I have to go.” Zayne pressed a kiss to Xavier’s forehead before quickly turning.

“Is it them?” Xavier said, quickly following as far as he could.

“I think so. Emergency surgery with the description of the injuries they have. Stay out here. I’ll be back out as soon as I can.”

Zayne walked through the same doors you’d been wheeled through less than ten minutes ago.

Xavier was alone once more, only knowing that your injuries were bad enough to warrant emergency surgery.

Only knowing that your injuries were bad enough for Zayne to show a small flicker of fear in his eyes.

Zayne watched as the anesthesiologists placed the mask over your face. You’d woken up for a moment, a bit dazed. He didn’t have much time to explain what was going on to you, but he simply told you to trust him. He told you you’d be fine.

He had no plans for what he said to be a lie.

The surgery was one he’d been prepared to have to do. He had nightmares that went like this every time you and Xavier were out on a mission and couldn’t give him updates. The nightmares were all the same.

You or Xavier being brought into the hospital. Him being the only one able to do the surgery. Him cutting into either of you in an attempt to save your lives. The blood…. So much blood.

And the worst of it?

He never saved you or Xavier. You always ended up dead on the surgical table, either due to his own error or you having been too far gone.

But that wouldn’t happen this time. He knew exactly how to handle your injuries. He had done this hundreds of times before on hundreds of different patients.

He just had to focus.

It was just a bunch of steps he had to follow. Make the incision. Find the source of the bleeding. Stop the bleeding. Clean out the blood. Confirm the bleeding has stopped.

The internal bleeding was handled.

He didn’t want to be the one to put a tube in your chest cavity, but the bleeding there had to be drained somehow. He never felt weird about doing it on others, but this was you. It was different. You weren’t supposed to be in this position.

And he shouldn’t be the one treating you. It was a conflict of interest. But he wasn’t going to wait until they could get another surgeon here. He’ll just need to file some complaints about the lack of help available at this time of night. You’d think with the size of the hospital they’d have more than one surgeon on call at night, but apparently not.

With the bleeding controlled and the organs checked to not be affected, Zayne and the assistant in the room started working on closing you back up. The dressings were applied. You were cleaned up and brought to the ICU.

Zayne wasn’t able to follow immediately. He had to get himself cleaned up and sanitized. He did it as quickly as he could while still being thorough.

Once he was done, he went immediately to find Xavier. The other man was still in the waiting room. He was sitting in one of the chairs, head resting on his hand as he slept. His other hand held his phone loosely.

After a few hours in surgery with you, Zayne was getting a bit tired of seeing his partners passed out in the hospital. He walked over, lightly tapping Xavier’s shoulder.

The hunter let out a soft sigh as he started waking up. He went to rub his eyes with his hands, accidentally dropping his phone. A small smile came to Zayne’s face watching the process of Xavier waking up that he’s seen hundreds of times. He bent down himself, picking up Xavier’s phone.

Xavier quickly remembered where he was when he recognized that Zayne was wearing his doctor’s coat. He muttered a quick thank you before quickly standing up, much to Zayne’s dismay. Zayne never liked when Xavier or you got out of bed so quickly. With the work you two do, you need to allow yourselves time to relax. Of course, every time he tells you two this you both flip it back on him, quickly ending the argument.

“Are they alright?” Xavier asked. Zayne nodded.

“The surgery went well. We were able to get the bleeding under control. They have a chest tube in right now to drain the blood around the lung.”

“They’re still bleeding?”

“Yes, but it’s not what you think. It’s residual bleeding. It’s expected to stop within a day.”

“So they’re going to be fine?”

“Yes. They’re going to be fine.” Despite his reassurances, Zayne could see Xavier was still anxious. He grabbed Xavier’s hand. “You got them here in time. You helped them. If you hadn’t, there would’ve been complications that the team might’ve not been able to handle. You got them here, and now they’re going to be just fine. Our love is going to be fine.”

Xavier gave a small nod along with a squeeze to Zayne’s hand.

“I know, thank you, Zayne.” Though Xavier took in Zayne’s words, he still couldn’t fully grasp you being okay until he saw you. Zayne could see that in Xavier’s eyes.

“Come on. They’re not awake just yet, but they should be settling in the ICU.”

The walk to the ICU was quick. Xavier was ready to get to see you. He knew you wouldn’t be awake yet, but he hadn’t seen you in over five hours. He didn’t care whether you were asleep or running around like some crazed maniac. He just had to see you.

Once they got there, it was hard to see you. You were intubated in order to keep your airways clear. The ventilator hummed steadily next to the bed you laid on. You laid completely still.

Xavier sat down in the chair next to yours. He reached out, holding your hand. Just the simple act of feeling your hand in his filled him with relief. He relaxed into the chair, feeling much better.

Xavier was ready to go back to sleep when he realized something: Zayne wasn’t sitting with him. He looked back and saw Zayne still standing near the door, looking at you with caution. As if you were going to break apart any minute now. Xavier glanced back at you, giving your hand a small squeeze before standing up and walking over to Zayne.

Just like Zayne had done earlier for him, Xavier took his hand.

“You saved them. They’re going to be just fine. You can relax now.”

Zayne stared at you for a moment before looking at Xavier. He looked into the man’s eyes, taking in the sincerity and calmness. He let out a soft sigh before nodding. A slight smile came to Xavier’s face.

“I think you’ve done enough work. Let’s take this-” Xavier let go of Zayne’s hand, reaching for the buttons. “-off. You’re off duty for now.” Zayne didn’t move to help Xavier but didn’t stop him either.

Once the coat was unbuttoned, Xavier grabbed the coat and lightly tugged it off Zayne, who limply lifted his arms to somewhat help with the process. Xavier placed the coat on the hook on the door. He led Zayne to sit next to the bed with him, but not before taking the page out of his front pocket, pressing a button that said Dr. Zayne was unavailable, and putting it in the pocket of the coat.

Xavier let Zayne take the chair he’d just been sitting in, walking around the bed to grab a different chair and bring it over to sit near Zayne. He sat to Zayne’s side while facing you.

“Come on, Zayne,” He said quietly, grabbing Zayne’s hand. Then, he lifted it and placed it on top of yours. He placed his hand on top of Zayne’s. “They’re alright. We’re all going to be alright.”

Falling asleep happened pretty quickly for the hunter and the surgeon. Xavier leaned in his chair towards Zayne while Zayne did the same towards Xavier. Zayne’s head rested precariously on Xavier’s shoulder and Xavier’s head did the same on Zayne’s. Xavier’s hand had fallen off of yours and Zayne’s, ending up resting on Zayne’s knee. Zayne’s hand was still on top of yours, now holding your hand.

Waking up was an experience you didn’t like. Being intubated was the first thing you noticed. You wanted to cough to clear your throat, but you physically couldn’t. Your mouth felt dry. Your breathing felt… wrong. It didn’t feel right. But you couldn’t fix it.

You felt weak. You couldn’t move properly. You wanted to move your arm, figure out exactly what was going on around you, feel the tube you can feel coming out of the side of your chest and the tube in your mouth. But you couldn’t.

For a moment, you almost panicked. You were confused. Scared. Disoriented. But then, you felt another thing.

Zayne’s hand is on top of yours. You tilted your head slightly, looking to the side. There were your two boyfriends, passed out in two chairs next to your bed. The panic you had just started to feel faded as it was replaced with a warm feeling.

You were still uncomfortable. You were still in a bit of pain. But seeing your boyfriends like this made you able to focus on something else.

You were able to focus on them.

#love and deespace #love and deepspace x reader #zayne x reader #lads zayne #lads x reader #lads #lads xavier #xavier x reader #zayne love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace #zayne x you #xavier x you #zayne x xavier #snowstar #snowstar x reader #chat i might be a bit gay for these men what can I say #i love them <3 <3 <3

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